#and gold/golds from golden guard

[pencilofawesomeness]

If I had a nickel for every time I have grown fond of a blond male homunculus who (at one point) wants to make their morally problematic creator proud......

[wingedarrows]

Kintsugi for the Wounded Soul

Should I probably have actually posted more of my art of Valor before posting this? Yeah probably. Am I doing that? No. Woe, album art and playlist that tells the story of my grimwalker oc Valor Firemantle be upon ye, whether you have the context or not.

[wikagirl]

[muffinpink02]

Taking Your Crown

Alexia has booked you for a special night.

Warning - smut, fingering, anal play, choking, strap, bdsm play, fluff & after care

‘Ping’ 

You heard a notification come up on your phone, you looked at the screen.

“Gold Package Booking’ 9pm - 9am Tonight”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, this was the most expensive service you provided. You looked over the details, not that there really was much detail, there never was. Not in your line of work. 

You did look at the tick box that they had to fill out before submitting, their “wants and needs”. And surprisingly they had ticked many of the options. 

Foreplay (Yes), 

Penetration (Yes),

Giving (Yes),

Receiving (Yes),

Praise kink (Yes), 

Pain threshold - (High), 

Toys - (Yes),

Anal play (Yes), 

Air Restriction (Yes), 

Bondage (Yes), 

Orgasm denial (Yes), 

Sensory play (Yes), 

But what really made you smile was seeing that it was a woman who had booked you. You had women book you before but they weren't your most regular customers. Maybe 1 in 30 bookings would be a woman, but most of the time it was men, rich men. Business men, famous men, men in oil, men in tech, men in law, men in government, you had even had a Prince once.

But you never had sex with them, that wasn’t part of your services, not for the men. That was the ‘silver package’, The silver package included many things but nothing that involved you and the customer having any sexual intercourse. Not even kissing, you hardly really touched them. The ‘gold package’ was only for the ladies. And the only package that included sex. 

With the gold package she had the option to pick your outfit, and this particular woman had picked your personal favourite. It consisted of your leather thigh high boots, the heels stood just short of 6 inches. A fitted black leather corset, that showed off your breast perfectly. She requested for your hair to be tied back in a slicked back ponytail. 

You studied her safe words, her ‘do’s and don’ts’. This was always sent over beforehand so you didn't have to break character during your session, or constantly ask if she was okay, unless you felt you needed to. You began to get yourself ready for your night ahead, starting with a long hot shower. You couldn't help but be intrigued on who she was. The customers that booked you had to have money, you weren't cheap, and the company you worked with was a very high brow type of organisation. Only the rich and famous were able to be a member of your place of work, and sometimes not even all of them were allowed to join. It was a very exclusive club. You had to be somebody, and even then you weren't always guaranteed to be a member.

You had to book months in advance to see certain ‘workers’ and you were one of them, you were one of the best after all. Even, you didn't find out anything until that day, like the message you got this morning. Giving the customers the discretion they paid for.

After your shower you got yourself ready in the customer's desired outfit of choice. You got in your car and made your way to your destination, but not before covering yourself with your long brown trench coat of course. This view wasn't free. 

You pulled up to the gated fence. “Good evening, Miss Porsche.” The security guard who had been working there since even before you, smiled politely, opening the gates for you. ‘Miss Porsche’ wasn’t your name, he didn’t know your name, it’s what he called you as that was your car of choice. 

“Hey, Frank.” You nodded and smiled at him as you drove through the gates. You didn't know his name either, he just looked like a Frank and he never corrected you.

You drove up the pathway to the main entrance of the Victorian manor, parking your car in your usual spot.  You climbed the old wooden staircase, passing large golden floor length mirrors that draped the walls, mirrors that you had seen yourself in many times, in many different positions, from an array of sex parties.

You made your way to your room, you unlocked the door and got yourself ready. No one but the cleaners was allowed in your room. Everyone who worked here had their own private rooms, giving the customers full privacy. No one entered or left at the same time, it was a tight clock. 

You made sure the room was perfect, you had scented candles lit, making the room smell of vanilla and coconut, the lights dimmed low. The room was a naturally dark room, a four pillar wooden king size bed sat in the middle of it. The oak pillars stood tall giving it a royal feel to it. The small fire burning gave the room the perfect temperature, you wanted to keep your guest comfortable after all, there was nothing worse than a cold room when having sex. You looked over her checklist once more, smirking as you read it. You had a feeling you were going to have fun with her. 

That's when you heard a knock on the door. Show time.

“Enter.” You called out.

The door opened with a young woman standing behind one of the “Toys” Both their faces half covered with masquerade masks. The ‘toys’ were like house butlers but half naked, they greeted the guests on arrival and escorted them in and out of the building. They confiscated phones or any kind of device that could record, you wanted your privacy to. They were in charge of taking the customers to change out of their clothes and into something more appropriate, and into the robes provided. They were young apprentices, shall we say. They got the name ‘toy’ because they were ‘played’ with constantly by workers like you in the best kind of way, of course, they were like shiny new toys, hence the name. You and other workers taught them the ways of your work, they were literally learning on the job.

“You, come in.” You pointed at your partner for the night. She hesitantly took a step forward into your room. 

“Leave us.” you said to the ‘toy’.  She took a step back, closing the door behind her. 

You locked the door, giving yourself and your guest privacy. You turned around to see the blonde woman standing straight ahead, her body looked rigid, most of them did when they first entered. 

“Take off your robe.” You said it softly, but with a dominant tone.

The blonde took a deep breath and removed her robe down to her waist, she was nervous to take it completely off. But that's why you were there.

“All of it.” You demanded.

She took another deep breath and allowed the clothing to drop to the floor. You smiled.

You took a good look at her body, she was stunning. She was wearing a beautiful, very expensive looking red laced set that complimented her olive skin perfectly. You could tell she worked out, her muscles in her back alone were impressive. Your eyes drifted down to her pretty perky arse, her red thong sat neatly between her cheeks and fuck, it was perfect. You had the urge to slap those perfect cheeks and watch them jiggle, but that could wait, you had 12 hours to play with her. 

You could see she had tattoos scattered across her skin, her blonde hair flowing down her back was covering parts of the art. Her muscles were tensing beneath her skin, you could see she was nervous, you wanted her in many ways, but nervous was not one of them.

You stepped closer to her, gently touching her shoulder, she jumped at the contact. 

“Oh we don't want that, no need to be nervous around me.” You purred.

You finally stepped in front of her, and you nearly lost your own nerve. Even with the mask you knew who she was. The women standing in front of you was none other then Alexia fucking Putellas. Fuck.

You didn't have many celebrity crushes, you weren't really one to obsess over the latest hot new movie star. But, you were a sucker for a female footballer. And in some sick twist of fate, the one you lusted over most was standing half naked right in front of you. Ready to be dominated.

You prided yourself on being a professional, you have seen many faces that you recognised in this room before, faces you saw in films, in music, even in politics. You had never batted an eyelid. You would even use it as part of your play with them. Use it as a tool to either put them down or build them up, depending on the service of course. 

You were a little taken back when you recognised her, you nearly faltered, nearly. But you were a professional, this was your job, but god, this was going to be hard. 

You stepped closer to the Spaniard, you put your finger under her chin and lifted her head slightly, making her look at you. “You’re a pretty little thing aren't you?.” You smirked.

The blonde casted her hazel eyes to the floor, a small smile at her lips. “Thank you.” She said quietly. 

You were a bit shocked to see the footballer so timid. On social media she seemed a lot more confident, but you knew more than most people, that not everyone was the same in and outside of the bedroom. 

You looked over her body one last time, before you left her where she stood. You sat on the end of the king size bed, spreading your legs wide. 

“Come here my pretty pet.” You point to the space between your legs.

Alexia looks between your legs and back up at you, almost scared to be caught looking. She starts to walk but you stop her.

“No. Not like that. On your hands and knees, crawl. You’re my pretty pet.” You smirked devilishly at her. 

She looked a little taken back but she got on her hands and knees like you said and crawled to you. Her perfect arse swaying as she did. You felt a little excitement in your stomach at the view, but you knew you had to keep it professional. Crush or no crush. She was still your guest.

You looked down at the girl between your legs, she kept her head down, you watched her hazel eyes look everywhere but at you. Even behind the gold mask you could see she was still nervous. You gently placed your hand on her cheek, she leaned into your palm instantly. You were definitely going to have fun with her tonight. 

“I like the name 'Pretty pet' for you, you are so very pretty. Are you going to be a good, pretty pet for me?” 

She nodded. That wouldn't do. You grabbed her chin, her cheeks were squashed between your fingers pushing her lips out.

“When I ask you a question I want a verbal answer.”

“Sí. Yes, s-sorry.” She stuttered.

You roughly released her face, leaning back from her. 

“You’re not the queen in this room, do you understand?”

“Yes.” She nodded.

“Good. In fact you will refer to me as Miss Queen.” 

“Yes, Miss Queen.” She nodded.

You smiled. “Good, I like an obedient pet. Let's take this mask off you. We don’t need it anymore.” You untied the mask and removed it from her. Finally seeing her full face, she was even more beautiful in real life.

You take your time looking at her, this stunning woman in front of you was specifically here for you, for her pleasure. 

With this kind of job it was easy for it to get to your head. You have someone paying thousands to specifically spend a night with you, just to fulfill their own sexual needs. But you had learnt from early on that it wasn't just a sex thing, it was almost like a therapy session for your guest, something they needed. Fantasies that society made them feel weird for wanting, so they seeked out their pleasures privately. It was a safe space for you and them, a place where nothing would be used against them. And if you were rich and famous then it was the perfect space for you. And you were there to provide that service for them.

You smiled down at the girl below you, you caught her eyes on your sex, her hazel eyes locked with your own, she looked embarrassed to be caught red handed.

“Like what you see, pretty pet?”

She nodded. “Yes, very much Miss Queen.”

You hummed. “My thighs need some attention, give it to them.” 

“Yes, Miss Queen.” Alexia shuffled closer on her knees. She started to place gentle kisses on your skin, your leather boots covered half of your thighs, only giving her lips space closer to your pussy, not that you minded. She began to use her tongue, slowly licking and sucking on your flesh. You leaned back, stroking her hair, watching the girl beneath you. You watched as her tongue darted out, and then her lips would suck. She got closer to your pussy, as she sucked at the crease of where your thigh and leather suit met. 

You let out a sigh.“That's good my pretty pet. I can see your pretty mouth can work, I’ll definitely enjoy that later. Stand up” 

Alexia stood in front of you, her red lingerie hugged her body perfectly. You stood up right in front of her, even with your heels she had the height leverage, not that it mattered. Not in this room.

“Stay facing the bed. Put your hands up.” 

Alexia did what she was told. You grabbed the restraints that were hanging from the top of the beds banister above her head, you secured her wrists to the restraints, keeping her in place. You walked over to your draw of toys, looking specifically for a certain item. You smirked as you found it. 

You walked over to her, the accessory in your hand. Her beautiful body was tense, as her muscles in her arms and shoulders flexed from the position. You stepped closer to her, enjoying your view up close. You pressed your body against hers, her own body tensed instantly on feeling you. You were close enough to smell her perfume, it smelt expensive. 

“I’m going to give you 10 lashes and the only thing I want to hear coming from your mouth is ‘Thank you Miss Queen.’ Understood?”

“Yes, Miss Queen.” 

“Good, if you’re a good girl for me, you’ll be rewarded. Does that sound good, my pretty pet?” 

“Yes Miss Queen, thank you.”

“Perfect. Let’s begin.” You kissed her shoulder, Your eyes roamed her pretty arse, her perfect pretty arse. Just waiting to be red like her thongs. You brought the black leather paddle board up, and lashed it across her cheeks. 

Crack. “Thank you Miss Queen.” She took the first hit well. You brought down the paddle again, watching her arse shake from the impact. 

Crack. She hissed out. “Thank you Miss Queen.”

You got to the 8th slap, and her body was shaking, her breathing was hard. 

“You are doing so well, you’re such a good pet.” 

“Thank you Miss Qu- ahh!….Queen.” Crack. 9th hit.

“Last one. It's a shame, I enjoy watching your pretty arse shake.” You smirked.

It was the last one and your hardest one. Her head flew back, as her body shook from the feeling of your paddle. “T-thank you, Miss queen.”

You knelt down and gave both her cheeks a delicate kiss. Humming as you did. “Thank you, pretty pet. I'm going to have so much fun with your arse.” You peppered her cheeks with your lips. She slightly flinched from the sensation, her arse was more than likely on fire, but she still signed in pleasure.

You took a step back, looking over her red cheeks. “You’re just perfect aren't you? Turn around, let me see you.” Alexia turned her body, now standing in front of you, her face was flushed, her cheeks a cute shade of pink. Her red lingerie hugged her body perfectly, but as pretty as it was it needed to come off.

You took a step closer to her, your face inches from hers. You looked between your bodies smiling. “Thank you for making such an effort for me tonight, pretty pet.” You glided your fingers over her bra, you could feel her erect nipple through the thin fabric. 

Alexia suddenly became shy at the compliment, it embarrassed her that you knew she tried to make an effort, buying the outfit specifically for tonight, for you. 

You gently cupped her chin like you did earlier. You moved your lips inches from hers, you could see the desperation in her eyes. “Even though you look so pretty in your lingerie, I want to see all of you.”

“Please.” She begged.

You gripped her face tighter. “Are you losing your manners, pet?” 

She shook her head as much as she could with your tight grip. “No. Sorry, Miss Queen. I’m sorry.”

You smiled at her, your eyes glazing over her lips. “Good. Don’t upset me.” 

You untied her from the restraints and removed her bra from her chest, revealing a beautiful pair of breasts.

“Pretty girl.” You whispered. 

You slowly took her left nipple into your mouth, sucking on the perked flesh. Her head tilted back as a quiet moan escaped her lips. Just like she did before, she moved closer to your touch, desperate to feel you. A simple gesture like that made you understand the kind of touch she needed tonight. You moved over to the other side, gently squeezing her tight bud between your teeth, earning you a beautiful moan. 

You released her nipples with a wet pop from your lips. “Turn around, get on the bed. I want that pretty arse in the air.”

Alexia got on the bed, shuffling on her knees, just like you told her to. You went back to your draw of toys, looking for the item you had in mind. Once you found the object, you accompanied it with a bottle of lube.

You turned around to see a truly pornagraphic site. Alexia had her arse in the air, her face down on the bed waiting for your next command. You stood behind her, greedily looking over her body. You stroked her thighs, making her jolt at your delicate touch. You moved your hands up to her red thongs and peeled the skimpy fabric down her thighs. 

Wow.

The girl was drenched, you watched as her shiny streaks of wetness clung to her lips, as you removed the clothing. You felt your mouth water at the sight, you let out your own appreciative groan. Of all the female footballers that could have been in your room tonight it had to be the one you lusted over the most, the one that you literally pictured in this room many times. Now here she was. All wet and waiting.

Alexia heard your moan, it made her chest swell with pride. It felt like she had done something right for you. 

“Look at you, you may have the prettiest pussy I have ever seen.” You smiled as you took a swipe from her wet lips. You lifted your wet finger to your mouth and smeared her essence on your lips, like she was your own personal lip gloss. 

You groaned. “Fuck, she taste pretty too, what a sweet little thing you are.”

Alexia moaned from your words, you could tell the girl was starting to visibly relax.

“I’m going to play with your pretty little arse for a little bit. I have a beautiful red diamond plug that I think will suit you perfectly.”

“Yes, Miss Queen. I’d like that.” her voice trembled.

You had a feeling you knew why Alexia had booked with you, it was always the same. People who booked with you who were always in a leading role, a job that everyone counted on you to make the decisions. The people who got the most blame for a mistake that wasn't even theirs, it was just because they were the main face that they would get the most backlash. And with jobs like that they were always in charge, so coming here was a break, a release from the stress. They didn't get to make any decisions here.

You smirked as you covered the plug generously with lube, but not without covering your fingers too. You slowly started to ease one finger into her tight hole. Her breathing picked up straight away, small moans left her mouth as you got the tip of your finger past her tight muscles. “Such a good girl.” 

She moaned at your words. Her back arched as she felt your finger slowly ease depper in, she clearly wasn't a stranger to this, you couldn't help imagine her outside this room and in your own bed training her arse to stretch. After some slow and gentle pushing your knuckle was pressing into her hole. You allowed her to get used to the feeling, ever so slowly moving your finger in and out, stretching her out. Her soft moans were beautiful, you watched as she held onto the bed sheets needing something to hold.

You stroked her back with your free hand. “So good.” She pressed her arse back into you, she was definitely a praise kink kind of girl. Your favourite kind of girl. After a while of manipulating her hole, you slowly removed your finger and began to ease the shiny but plug.

“You’re so good, taking this like a pro. You’ve done this before haven’t you? Hmm? You like your pretty arse played with.”

“Sííí. Sí M-miss Queen.” Alexia groaned.

“I thought so. Such a dirty pet.” 

Finally the plug was sitting perfectly between her cheeks. You looked down proudly at your work, a red gem next to her red cheeks. Another shiney substance caught your eye, that’s when you noticed her juices had dribbled halfway down her thighs. 

“Oh my poor pretty pet, you've made such a mess of yourself.” You said it with a hint of tease to your voice. “Let me clean you up.” 

You got on your knees in front of Alexia’s thighs, you dipped your head closer and ran your tongue up each strong thigh, catching her body's juices. Alexia let out a groan at the feeling of your tongue, cleaning her up. You had tasted many girls in your time but wow, Alexia was something special. You sucked and licked on her skin, you grabbed her cheeks as she began to push backwards, clearly wanting your tongue somewhere else.

“Ohh she's a desperate girl.” Your voice was teasing.

She really was, Alexia had been looking forward to this appointment for months, she found out about this establishment through a friend of a friend, and when she came across your profile she enquired instantly. 

You began to kiss up close to her sex, her lips were dripping. You slowly moved closer to where she wanted you most, but teased her with purposefully slow kisses, inch by inch getting closer. You smirked as you heard her breathing getting quicker. Ever so gently you kissed her lips, your own lips topped back up with the beautiful gloss that was Alexia. 

A whimper dripped from the girl's mouth, god she was desperate. You could tell she needed this. You kissed her again, this time you pushed your tongue past her lips and into her velvety folds, finally having her on your tongue. You weren't ready for the filthy groan she let out, making your own pussy throb. 

You lapped a few times before you began to eat her out properly, your tongue stroking teasingly at her hole, but not once touching her clit. She tried to open her legs further, but her thongs still on her thighs only allowed her so far. 

As much as it pained you to do, you pulled away from her. You wanted to have more fun with her before she was allowed to come. But of course she protested when you stopped. 

“Please Miss Queen. I’ve been so good.”

Fuck. Alexia begging was music to your ears. “You have been good, so good, but I’m not done playing with you.”

The blonde let out a moan, but before she could even finish your hand smacked her arse. Making her yelp.

“Lay on the bed, on your front now!” You put on your most dominant voice. 

The girl couldn't move quicker, she laid on her front waiting for you. You pulled her thongs down off her thighs, freeing her legs. “Put your arms up near your head.” You commanded.

She did as she was told. You grabbed her hands and locked her wrist in the restraints attached to the front of bed. Her naked body laid there waiting for you. The red gem between her cheeks caught your eye as you approached her.

“I’m sorry, Miss Queen. I j-just. Your tongue feels so good.” 

You stroked her hair from her neck, you moved closer to her ear, licking the shell as you did. “You wont get my tongue if you carry on being a brat. Is that what you want?”

Panic set in her eyes. “No, no. Please. I’m sorry, Miss Queen. Ho sento molt” 

You hadn’t prepared yourself for Alexia speaking in Catalan. You felt yourself becoming wet again, but you gritted your teeth and held down your own hornyness for now. You grabbed a fistfull of her hair and yanked her head up. “Make me angry one more time. I promise you won't like it.”

You released the hold on her hair and walked over to the candles on the side, picking up one in particular. This one had a lip on the side for a certain use. You walked back over, your heels hitting the wooden floor boards with purpose. You climbed on the bed and sat just below Alexias arse. 

“Make sure to breathe, baby girl.” 

“Yes, Miss Queen.” The Spaniard breathed out.

You tilted the candle slowly on its side and watched as the hot melted red wax dripped over her back, she cried out as the burning liquid came into contact with her skin. 

The noises she let out made your own eyes roll back. Alexia was writhing underneath you. The hot sensation of the wax made every nerve in her body scream. It felt like a bolt of electricity had coursed through her skin, she gasped as she felt more drips gather just above her cheeks, the feeling was intoxicating, she could feel her cunt pulsate from the burn. 

“I would normally gag my pet but the noises you make are delicious.” 

“Graci-gr- ….aghh. Thank you. Th-ank you, Queen.” 

Her accent had become thicker, she was clearly struggling to form her words, you loved it. You didn't even care that she messed up. “Hmm, such a good, pretty pet.” You moved the candle away, you watched as the blonde breathed hard beneath you. You climbed off her, putting the candle back on the side.

You went into your dresser to get your next prop. “You ready to be a good girl? Be my good, pretty pet?” You began to remove your corset, the Spaniard's hazel eyes popped open comically as your corset hit the floor, she watched you like a hawk. You were now completely naked other than your thigh high boots. You slinked over to her, she was still trapped by the restraints, unable to move. 

“Sí Miss Queen, I want to be your good girl, please.” Her voice was raspy. 

You smiled as you stroked her hair, she was such a good submissive, it nearly took your breath away. You began to attach your item in your hand around her neck. She watched you closely, her hazel eyes were dripping with want, she looked at you like she wanted to devour you. As much as she was a sub you could tell she could switch it up. The look she gave you almost made you nervous, almost.

You untied her from her wrist restraints but she was now attached to a new type of restraint. “Come pretty girl. Follow me. I think you deserve a treat.” You smiled devilshy at her, and she smiled back, fuck, this girl was breaking your resolve. You watched as Alexia followed you, you held the lead in your hand that was now attached to her neck. You walked backwards watching her movements. My god what a sight it was.

You walked in front of the lit fireplace, and stood in front of the big black leather chair. A chair fit for a queen. You gently pulled the blonde closer by her lead, just shy of your mouth. You could feel her heavy breathing on your lips. You smirked up at her, her hazel eyes were locked on to your mouth. She truly was beautiful. 

You slowly inched impossibly closer to her mouth, your lips millimetres from touching hers. You scraped her hair back gently and slowly attached your lips to hers, kissing her for the first time tonight. You kept it slow, her lips were so delicate and soft. You were exploring her mouth the way you wanted, you gently dipped your tongue past her lips, earning you the cutest groan. 

Alexia could kiss, her mouth fit perfectly against yours, both enjoying the feeling of the other. She delicately slipped her tongue in your mouth, you allowed it as it was still the pace you set. Her skilful tongue danced over your own, making you groan. She clearly liked that she was able to pull a noise from you, as she made small muffled noises that made you want to throw her on the bed and fuck her relentlessly. 

That's when she forgot her place.

You felt her hand come up to touch your hip slightly squeezing you, just as she decided to push her tongue further, trying to control the kiss. You pulled away, her eyes were still closed as she tried to chase your lips. You chuckled at her neediness, but really you just wanted to give her anything she wanted. Fuck. Get it together. 

You pulled her lead again close to your mouth, eyeing her up. “Has someone forgotten who's in charge here?” Before she could answer you pulled her leash harder. She gasped from the jolt. “Because I know for a fucking fact it isnt you.” That knocked her down a peg, but you knew you'd give it to her later. She knew it too. 

“I’m sorry, Miss Queen, your mouth is perfecte.”

You pulled the lead, making her pant. “On your knees, pretty pet.” She obeyed and slowly dropped to her knees, never taking her eyes off of you. The glow from the fire illuminated half of her face, causing her hazel eyes to glow a golden colour, making her look even more beautiful. She stared up at you like you were some kind of god, like she was ready to drop any religion she believed in before tonight and worship you instead.

You sat on the leather chair, spreading your legs wide. Her eyes went straight to your core, she saw instantly how wet you were, causing an excited look to flash across her face. Her mouth was slightly parted; you didn't miss the way her tongue darted out, wetting her kiss swollen lips. You let out a deep sigh as you leaned back into the seat, making yourself comfy, your cocky bravado on full show. You lent your hand under your chin, a devilish smile plastered your face. You looked at the girl sitting in front of you, she was a completely different girl from the one who walked in this room tonight. There were no nerves in sight, no more tense muscles, and you hadnt even fucked her yet. You gently pulled the lead to get her attention, as she was still unashamedly gazing at your wet lips. 

“Are you ready for your treat, pretty girl?” 

She nodded quickly. “Sí, sí. Please Miss Queen, I’m ready.”

You smirked. “Good. You’ve made me a bit of a mess. Come and clean me up.” 

She shuffled closer to you on her hands and knees, you placed your heel on her back to rest and to remind her who was in charge. You jerked the lead just before she could inch any closer to you.

“Do not stop until I tell you to.” 

“Sí, Miss Queen.” Her voice was desperate.

“Clean me up.” 

She began to kiss up your thigh, but made quick work of it, clearly impatient as her tongue was on your clit a lot quicker than you wanted. You yanked the leash, moving her away from you.

“Do not rush. Do not make me warn you again, or you'll be tied up and spanked until you can no longer feel your skin. Do you understand?”

She bit her lip in remorse, and once again it nearly made you slip, this girl was driving you crazy and you had a feeling she knew it too. “Ho sento, Miss Queen.” She kissed your thigh gently.

“Good, get back to it. Make sure to swallow, don’t waste a drop.” You pulled her closer by the leash, not giving her time to respond. This time her lips were slow on your thighs, licking and sucking gently. She took small bites on your flesh, making you grit your teeth. “Good girl.” You rewarded her. Her golden eyes looked up at you, clearly happy to be praised again. She kept her eyes glued to yours as her tongue finally made contact with your wet lips. You made a point not to react, she was going to have to work for this. You didn’t want her to get any more cocky than she already was. 

Did it annoy Alexia? Yes. She knew she was good with her tongue, actually if she was being honest she was amazing with her tongue. When she saw you didn't even flinch it jarred her, she didn't really know why but she wanted to prove herself to you, but she didn't mind putting on a show for you. She dipped her tongue into your cunt and up your folds, soaking her tongue in your juices, she leaned slightly back so you could see just how wet you were. 

You watched as your shiny wet streaks clung from her tongue to your core, she looked at you as she greedily licked your arousal into her mouth and swollowed. Fuck, this was going ot be hard. She got to work on pleasuring you, lapping her tongue through your velvet folds, her eyes closed in concentration, slurping and swallowing your juices. The sight before you was breathtaking, you had Alexia Putellas on her hands and knees eating you out like she had a point to prove. 

The fire's flames licked over her body, her olive skin was glowing from the small blaze. She moved her tongue higher, you couldn't hold the moans any longer as her talented tongue toyed with your clit. You brought your hand into her blonde hair, pushing her head closer. She groaned from the touch, happy to feel your contact. 

“Quite a talented mouth you have on you. You feel so good, pretty pet.” You praised her.

You pushed her further into your pussy, she was building you up quicker then you normally would like, but a part of you didnt care, she felt too good, and she was definitely making a point. She sucked gently on your swollen bundle of nerves, your hand in her hair getting tighter as she sucked and licked. You could feel the coil in the bottom of your stomach start to build. Your moans only pushed Alexia further, wanting so badly to make you come. As your pleasure built you heard a small noise come from the girl below you, she started to fucking whimper as she suckled on your erect clit. You looked down at her, her eyes were closed as her head bobbed up and down between your legs. 

“You’re such a good, pretty pet. I’m going to come in your pretty mouth. S-so good. So fucking good.” You rasped out.

Her noises alone made your hips start to move, you began to push into her mouth, she had the most perfect suction on your bundle of nerves. You pulled on her leash to get her closer, her whimpering getting louder as your hips moved against her tongue. The heated wave of your orgasm rushed through your body, you grabbed her head, needing her to stay exactly where she was, you pushed her impossibly closer as she sucked on your clit. Her name was on the tip of your tongue, as you shakily whimpered out, but you were able to hold it down. 

Alexia was in heaven, she felt your juices seep out and coat her tongue. She swallowed you down like you told her to, her own head swelled at seeing you so out of breath. She stayed on her hands and knees, lapping you up. You were sensitive but you allowed her to stay on, you watched her tongue lick between your folds, it wasn't long before she coaxed another orgasm out of you, making you completely fall apart. 

You let out a shaky breath as you moved her head away. You hated to admit it but no one had ever made you come like her, most of the time your guest wasn't even able to make you come, let alone twice. You watched as the blonde sat on her heels, her mouth was smeared with your essence, she smiled up at you, clearly happy with herself. 

You chuckled. “Wow. Not just talented on the pitch then are you.” 

You saw the glint flash in her eyes at the praise, she broke out in a genuine smile, a smile that melted your insides, fuck sake. You would only praise her from now on if that's how she reacted. But you still had to remind her who was boss.

“Come pretty girl, unzip my boots.” 

Alexia unzipped your boots, pulling them off you and placing them to the side.

“Up.” You snapped.

You both stood up, you were glad to be out of your heels as your legs felt like jelly as you stood.

“Come pretty pet.” You pulled on the leash and Alexia followed. 

You snapped your fingers, pointing to the middle of the bed. “On your back, arms up.”

Alexia did what she was told and climbed on top of the bed with her arms up.

You heard a small gasp come from the girl. “A mirror?” She smirked. 

You had a large mirror placed under the roof of the bed, so your guest had a view from the angle on their back. 

You smiled. “Best view in the house.”

You attached her wrist to the restraints on the bed, making sure they were tight. You could feel her eyes watching your every move. You untied the leash around her neck, you wrapped your fingers gently around her neck and squeezed her throat, earning you a whimper. 

“Hmm, I love the sounds you make.” You gently squeezed again. 

She moved forward trying to connect her lips to yours, and you gave in, gently kissing her. If that’s what she wanted then that’s what she would get.

The Spaniard was giddy, you could see she was excited. And so was you. You walked over to your drawer of goodies and grabbed the harness you wanted, you slipped it on with the 8 inch dark navy dick attached to it. Alexia was staring at you, her muscular thighs were already rubbing together. 

“Is someone desperate?” You teased.

“Sí, Miss Queen. I-I need you.” 

“You need me? Hmm, la Reina needs me?” 

“Sí, so bad. My queen.” 

“Hmm I like that.” You chuckled. 

You covered the strap with lube, and made your way over to the bed. You sat kneeled at Alexia's legs that were closed.

You eyed her up. “Open.” 

She almost looked hesitant to do it, but she did, she shakily opened her legs and you nearly forgot how to speak. She was dripping wet. You felt your core tighten just at the sight. The red diamante plug was covered in her wetness, what a sight to see.

You smirked deviously.. You pushed her legs open wider. “You’re a messy kind of girl aren’t you?”

“I-I don’t normally. I’ve never been this wet before.” She said it so quietly it nearly broke your heart. 

You rubbed her thighs soothingly “That's okay my pretty girl. It’s exactly how I want you.” 

She smiled, letting out air that was stuck in her lungs. 

You moved your hand to her soaking wet entrance and circled her clit. 

“Merda.” She husked out. 

You watched her face as you ran your fingers through her folds, just feeling her, remembering her, she moaned and wiggled under your touch. Then without warning you pushed two fingers inside her. The groan she let out made your pussy clench. She closed her eyes, her mouth gaped open from the sudden intrusion. You allowed her to get used to you before stroking your fingers in and out. 

You slowly rubbed your thumb on her erect clit, causing the blonde to tense on your fingers, you could feel her walls already starting to shake. You dipped your head and replaced your thumb with your mouth, wrapping your lips around her swollen pink head. 

Alexia’s moan was pornagraphic, her hips came off the mattress, her back arched as you suckled on her.   

“Please, déu mio.” Her eyes were screwed shut as she begged. You moved your fingers harder in her, making sure to hit that beautiful g spot of hers. Your tongue eagerly lapped at her clit, flicking it, pushing her closer. Her wetness was seeping into your mouth, almost making it hard to breathe, you swallowed as you sucked, making sure she could hear your throat gulp her juices down.

It didn’t take long before her body started to completely shake, she pulled her arms on the restraints, wanting so badly to touch you. She would normally have some kind of control when a girl was in between her legs. She felt her muscles tighten as her body tipped over the edge, she came hard, she cried out as her body rutted against your mouth.   

You kept your mouth on her until it was too much, she faintly cried out. “I can’t take anymore.” You reluctantly moved your head away, kissing her thighs on the way up. You sat up, your mouth gleaming with her essence. You lined yourself up to her entrance, one hand on her thigh, one hand holding the 8 inch appendage. You started to tease her entrance.

“Tell me what you want.”

“You.”

“What do you want from me, pretty pet?”

“To fuck me, hard.” She huffed.

“Hmm I don’t know if you can take it.” Your voice was teasing.

“I can take it.” She rolled her eyes and smirked. 

“Hmm, but do you deserve it?”

“Yes. I’ve been so good. Please.” God she was desperate

“You’re so needy aren't you? Such a needy pretty girl.”

“Sí. I need you so bad.” Her voice was straining now.

“Tonight this pussy is mine, got it?” You circled her clit gently.

“S-sí, it's yours.” She moaned.

“You are mine, isn't that right pretty pet?” 

“Sí, I'm all yours. All y-yours, I belong to you.” She husked out. Her eyes were full of lust, her face and cheeks blushing red, her hair was a slight mess. She looked perfect. “Please amore.” 

You smiled at the term of endearment. “Only because you asked so nicely “Ready?”

“Sí, please. Sí us plau fot-me.” 

You slowly pushed the head of the dick into her core, watching it enter her inch by inch. She started to let out small gasps as the girthy dick stretched her out, it almost felt too much, the air felt cold as it left her lungs. 

“Breath, baby girl.” You didn't move, you were only half way in but you allowed her to get used to the thickness of you. You watched her take a few deep breaths, and her body relaxed. She lifted her hips for you to keep going. You squeezed her thighs as you began to push deeper, her whimpers were errotic, the noises this girl made were something you wish you could have heard every damn day.

You slowly began to pump your hips, you were kneeling between her legs, able to watch and move at the pace you wanted. You couldn't stop staring as you sunk in and out of her, her pussy swallowing each thrust. You began to move faster, her moans becoming louder as you stretched her out. 

You placed your hands on the back of her thighs for support as you started to really fuck her. The sounds of her moaning and wet pussy were filling the room. You pushed her legs further to her chest and began to move your hips at a relentless speed. She tried to moan but no sound came out, your hips were moving like they were on speed. 

“Perfect girl. So perfect. Taking my dick so well.”

Alexia just had to lay there and take the rough pounding you gave her, watching you fuck her in the mirror above, her hands were still restrained above her head. She tried to respond but she was a mess of filthy moans. Her face was pure bliss as you hit deep in her tight walls, pushing her body deep into the mattress below, as you pressed your body into hers.

You were close to her face now, you kissed her roughly, she was just about able to form a kiss, you sucked on her lower lip and sunk your teeth into her plump flesh, causing her to whimper. You let go of one of her legs and moved your hand to her throat, wrapping your fingers around her neck. You squeezed with just enough pressure to hear her moan slip into a broken cry.

You could have stayed like this all night, if her body would allow it, just watching her face as she was fucked by you, you could feel your clit throbing from the site. You kept your pace up for a while, you felt your body start to sweat, making both your skin stick, the fire in the room was definitely keeping you warm.

That's when you felt her legs begging to shake, she wrapped them around your waist pulling you deeper, her moans became high, her head flung back into the pillow. You leaned into her ear.

“That's it, pretty girl, let that pretty pussy come over my dick. You’ve been so good, taking me so well.”

You thrusted faster, you grabbed her face and kissed her, her whimpers vibrated on your lips, her eyes were shut as her body started to rut. “Estic venint!” You were glad you knew enough Catalan to understand that was a good thing. Her body shook as she came, you kissed her as her body became dead weight. You dropped her legs and gently pulled out of her. You wanted her in a new position, not caring about her protests.

“Turn around.” 

Before she could even move you moved her body for her, you brought her hips up in the air, putting her on her knees. The ruby coloured plug was still in place. You didn't wait around, you sunk your dick inside her, right until your thighs were slotted with hers.

Alexia's eyes rolled into the back of her head, the pressure from the plug in this position was a whole different feeling, she could feel your dick pressing against the plug between her walls, the pressure was amazing. She didn’t have time to get used to it, you began to fuck her hard. 

You pushed her head down as your hips slapped her cheeks on every thrust, you thought you’d heard her moan before, but nothing compared to this. She gripped the bed sheets as you went to town, her moaning made your own eyes roll. You stole a glance upwards at the mirror above, you watched her cheeks slap roughly against your thighs, your clit was rubbing perfectly against the base of the strap. You looked down at the ruby plug sparkling between her cheeks, your eyes then panned to the blue dildo, working in and out of her pussy. You smirked to yourself, they were the colours of Barcelona's kit. 

Alexia was mumbling and moaning in the bed sheets below, you could make out some words, most of it in Catalan, swearing and gibberish. You pushed deeper, feeling a perfect spot for your clit, you could feel the warm pressure in your stomach begin to rise, but Alexia was already close. Her legs began to shake again, her moaning becoming high pitched. 

“No baby, wait for me.” You demanded.

“I-I can’t” She groaned.

You slapped her arse hard. “You will.” 

But it was too late, Alexia tried when she heard you but the slap of the arse may have been the thing to push her. She came hard around your dick, her choked moaning was loud, her throat would definitely hurt tomorrow. She realised what she did, apologising instantly.

“I’m, I’m sorry. I didn't mean to I - merdaaa!” 

You started to thrust again, not caring about how sensitive she was, she disobeyed you, she would have to wait for you to come now.

“You’re going to take it until I come. Do you hear me?” Your voice was harsh.

“Sí, sí I’m sorry.”   

Your hips went at a back breaking pace. Alexia started to moan, her body was in complete overdrive. You pushed her closer to the head board, where her restraints were attached, and pulled her body up so her back was against your front. You sunk your teeth into her neck as you fucked her, the wet noises coming from her pussy were filthy. She whimpered at the pleasurable pain from your teeth and your dick thrusting into her. She was so sensitive, it was a lot, her whole body was vibrating, thrumming from the pressure between her legs. 

She gritted her teeth as you used her body to come. She knew she could say the safe word and you would immediately stop but it turned her on knowing she was being used in this way. And yeah, that she maybe disobeyed your orders on purpose to be a brat, so what. 

You pulled her right up against your body, you grabbed her throat holding her neck giving you full access. You began to suck and bite on her pulse points, feeling her heartbeat thump under your tongue. Your hips never stopped, her whimpers and cries were right in your ear, pushing you to the edge. 

“So good. Your moans are so fucking good.” 

She couldn't respond Alexia was teetering on her 3rd orgasm of the night, and you were right behind her (literally) You felt her legs shake, you pushed your fingers on her clit, rubbing her at a furious rate. You pushed her down at the head board to grab. You leaned into her putting the pressure you needed on your clit. You felt the rush of your pleasure sweep through your body as you came against the strap, you grinded against her pushing your orgasm right to the edge. Your fingers stopped on Alexia as you caught your breath.

“Please, please don’t stop.” Alexia begged.

You chuckled roughly into her ear, making her shiver. “You are such a good girl, such a good pretty girl.” 

You picked the pace back up and rubbed on her erect, sensitive clit, you brought her back up against your chest, both your bodies were slick with sweat, it didn't take long before she started to scream, she threw her head back, you captured her lips in a fierce kiss. That's when you felt a gush of water splash against your legs, Alexia had squirted all over your dick. This night was only getting better.

“M-merda.” She was completely out of breath.

You laughed softly, gathering her hair in one hand and blowing air on her sweaty neck. You both just stayed there catching your breath. 

“I’m going to pull out okay?” 

“Sí, slowly please.” 

“Of course.” You kissed her shoulder as you gently pulled out. You climbed off the bed and unlocked the Spaniard from the restraints. She fell to the mattress, clearly exhausted from your activities. It made you smile. You walked into the onsweet bathroom and started to run a bath. You put plenty of lavender soak in to make it bubbly, and started to light the candles that sat alongside the bath. You came back in to see Alexias hooded eyes looking at you, a satisfied smile plastered her face. 

“Looks like my pretty pet is all fucked out.” You smiled playfully.

She let out a throaty laugh. “Hmm, no. I think you are.” 

Your smirk was sadistic. “No honey, why do you think you still have the plug in?” 

Before Alexia could respond you grabbed her by the legs and turned her arse to the edge of the bed. You knelt to your knees and started to suck on her clit. She cried out her hands grabbing the sheets, too scared to touch you in case you stopped. Her body was so sensitive she was already guiding towards her 4th orgasm, you pushed two fingers into her core, at a fast rate. The blonde let out a throaty moan from the pace. You brought your other hand to her arse and began to push the plug in and out of her whole. That's when her hand did find your hair. But you allowed it.

You felt her legs start to shake, you sucked and licked at her very swollen, very sensitive clit, your fingers still thrusting deep inside her cunt. That familiar sound of her whimpers started to drip from her mouth, those sweet beautiful sounds. She pushed your head down further into her. That's when you felt her pussy pulsate around your finger and at the same time you pulled the plug out of her arse. The Spaniard let out a deep throaty scream you hadn't heard tonight as she came completely undone, giving her a whole different kind of sensation.

Her chest heaved heavily as she struggled to catch her breath, you kissed her thighs as you came up from her between her legs. You got back on your feet looking down at the girl, smirking at the mess you made of her. You wiped your thumb across your lips, gathering her wetness, her eyes were on you now. You sucked her wetness off your thumb and winked.

“You may be my new favourite flavour.”

Alexia's mouth gaped open, she groaned as she covered her eyes and laughed. Her laugh was rough, probably from all the screaming she had done tonight. 

You quickly checked the bath and it was the perfect height, you turned the taps off and made your way back to Alexia. 

“Follow me.” You put your hand out for her to take and she eagerly did. You guided her to the bathroom on her jelly like legs and helped her into the hot tub. You tied her hair into a bun, and showed her where everything was, if she needed it.

“Just relax okay, I’m just going to get this room sorted, do you need anything? I’ll get us some water, but would you like anything specific?”

She looked to be thinking. “No, I’m good. Water is fine. Gracias.” She smiled. Her voice was hoarse. 

You nodded and smiled, you closed the door and called the number for room service. 

“....Thank you, yeah erm, let's have a selection please, great, thanks chef.”

The cleaners came and changed the sheets at a rapid speed. Once they were done you thanked them and returned to Alexia.

“Hello pretty pet, how are we doing?” You smiled at her.

This was also part of the package, the after care. It was just as important as the sex side of things, it could sometimes get rough in the sheets and the body and mind sometimes had a habit of going into a weird kind of emotional shock if not properly looked after.

You helped her wash her body and helped her out of the bath. You wrapped her up in a warm fluffy towel and walked her back into the room. “There's fresh pjs on the bed. You don't have to wear them.” You winked, and she giggled. Fuck. You felt your knees go weak. You continued. “Fresh water is just on the table. Relax and make yourself comfortable. You kissed her forehead. “I’m going to take a shower and once I'm done I have a special cream for your arse that I’m going to apply.” 

“Okay, thank you Miss Queen.” She smiled with teeth. What a completely different girl.

Once you were done you wrapped yourself in your robe and came back to the room. Alexia was watching TV laying on the bed completely naked. 

“No pjs for you?” You smirked playfully. “Would you like a preference for me?” 

“Oh erm, no, whatever you’re comfortable with. But I do like you naked.” She smiled shyly.

Just before you could answer, room service was at the door. You opened only enough to take the tray from the toy butler. 

You turned around with a silver tray with a variation of ice cream. Alexia looked over and smiled.

“What's this?” 

“For your throat, it helps trust me.” 

The smile that spread across her face was breathtaking. “Gracias. Thank you so much.” She beamed.

“That's okay. I asked for a couple of flavours, as I wasn’t sure, but if these aren't what you like I can ask for whatever you want.” 

“No this is perfect, thank you, Miss queen.”

You both ate ice cream naked, while you watched ‘The office’ on netflix, a completely different atmosphere settled in the room. Once you were done you left the bowls outside. 

“On your front, let me cream that perfect arse.” 

Alexia laughed and did what she was told. You gently applied the cream to her cheeks, it was a cream to make sure the blisters would heal. The blonde was close to falling asleep, yawning as you creamed. You laced kisses up from her cheeks up to her neck.

“Done. Are you ready for bed, pretty pet?”

She smiled with sleepy eyes. “Sí, thank you for that. It feels good.”

You got into bed and before you could ask, Alexia threw herself into your chest, laying her head just under your neck. You instantly held her closer, you could feel her warm breath on your skin, making you shiver.

“Is this okay?” She asked, her voice almost sounded worried.

“Definitely.” You kissed the top of her head. Both of you fell asleep in each other's arms.

The clock alarm went off the next morning, pulling you from your deep sleep. Alexia started to stir before you could turn it off. You had 3 hours left with the girl, it made your heart break a little. The blonde made a cute but very sexy groan as she stretched her body, she nuzzled her nose and lips into your neck. “Nu vull.” Her morning voice was raspy.

You laughed at the childlike version of Alexia. You kissed her head as you pulled her closer. You stayed there for a couple of minutes, stroking her back, feeling her soft skin under your fingertips. She let out a deep sigh as she moved her hips a little into your thigh that was between her own. You pushed your thigh deeper into her and to no surprise you were met with wetness. You smirked as you pushed deeper, making Alexia groan. 

“Is my pretty pet wet for me already?”

Her sleepy smile gave you butterflies that you knew had no right being there.

“Sí” She grinded her hips harder on your leg, making a point.   

You started to kiss her neck, making sure to kiss every spot, she smiled as she felt your lips press against her skin. You pushed her gently on her back and started to move down her body, you sucked and licked at her olive skin, you could smell the lavender on her skin from the bubble bath. You kissed at her nipples that were still soft, clearly not as awake as Alexia's other regions. You sucked the soft flesh into your warm mouth, you couldn't help but moan as you felt the nub begin to perk under your tongue. Alexia watched you as you worshiped her body, you sank further down in between her legs, her lips glistened with her morning arousal, it made your mouth water, you could feel your own wetness begin to pool between your legs from the sight alone.

You gently ran your tongue between her wet lips, Alexia groaned above you, her body waking up to the feeling of you. You were slow with it, just taking in her body, her flavour, her sounds, the way she bit her bottom lip when you sucked her in a certain way, the crease between her brows when you pushed your tongue inside her, lapping and drinking her down. Her hands laced your hair, you couldn't stop her, not when she looked so good, you also wanted her to do what she wanted, if this was the way she wanted things to go then you wouldn't stop her. 

She slowly began to move her hips, pushing herself deeping into your tongue. Her morning voice mixed with a ragged throat from last night made her moans sound rough. “La teva boca és perfecta.” She whispered, you watched her as your mouth worked against her. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open, just feeling you eat her out, she didn't mind that you were taking it slow, she loved the thought of you just being there, she was in heaven. A new wave of wetness dripped into your mouth every so often, you could hear how wet she was as you lapped at her folds. You gently wrapped your lips around her soft clit, sucking the nub into your mouth.

Her fingers laced your hair, pulling you closer, she began to make the cute little whimpers she did ash she got close. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” She begged. 

You didn't dare stop. You allowed her to gently fuck your face as she came in your mouth. She let out a deep groan as her legs clamped around your head. You stayed between her legs for most of the morning, sucking on her clit until she came 2 more times. When you finally released her she looked spent. Her face was a picture of bliss. 

You ordered room service for some actual breakfast, even though you wished eating pussy classed as a meal it wasn’t sustainable. You both sat out on the balcony of your room, in your robes as you ate your breakfast. You spoke about her upcoming match, in a week. Sometimes you dreaded these mornings with the women, they could sometimes be awkward, no matter how hard you tried, but it wasn't like that with Alexia, she was completely at ease.

She even asked about your work, only one other guest asked about it before, no one ever asked, it was like they became weird at the fact that they paid for this service, but didn’t mind when you was fucking them an hour before. Alexia looked to be deep in thought when you spoke about it, she asked so many questions and you didn't mind answering.

“So no sex with men?” She asked.

“Nope. Just punishment, name calling, make them clean my room. Things like that.” You drank your oj. 

“I see, this is good, no? They pay you, but they clean.” She giggled at her own joke.

You couldn't help but laugh at her, she was a completely different person from what you saw in the media, she was funny, gentle and a complete softy.

“I want to ride you.” She smirked into her glass as she said it.

But clearly she still had the confidence to take over a room. 

“You’re going to suck it first.” You winked.

10 minutes later you found yourself on your back with the goddess that she was, riding your dick, she moaned as she fucked herself. Once again it wasn’t rushed, her hips moved slowly on you. You pinched at her nipples as she whimpered at the sensation, her eyes never left yours, it felt like you were making love to her. It was different but it was nice, it was what she needed. You circled her clit gently, teasing her, you made her beg for it. You reminded her who she belonged to. You told her she had to think of you when she touched herself, to remind her that her pussy was yours. 

She came with a low groan, her throat sounded like it couldn't take anymore, her back arched, her head tilted back. You kissed her chest as she came down from her high. She helped you take the harness off and before you knew it her head was between your legs, you clit in between her lips. Just like you did, she was slow, painfully slow, you could feel her tongue exploring every crease of you. You came embarrassingly fast, but you couldn’t help it, Alexia had put some kind of spell on you. The second time wasn't so fast, her three fingers in you made you crumble beneath her, she kissed your mouth as you came, making you whimper into her lips. 

Your time with her was coming to an end, you called room service to bring up her bags. You both showered, together of course. You couldn't help but find your hands between her legs once more, pinning her to the shower wall as your fingers fucked her roughly. Her moaning bouncing in the tiled room sounded even better. 

You were both dressed now, you held her hands kissing her knuckles, you couldn't believe how quick the time had gone with her. 

“I don’t even know where to start. Thank you so much for everything.” The blonde smiled shyly. 

“You’re more than welcome. I’ve had a lot of fun with you.” You smirked.

“I don’t know if you would want to but I have some spare tickets for my gam -, No sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I - I - erh,”

You stopped her with a kiss. “I'd like that actually.”

Her eyes lit up. “Yeah?” Her cheeks blushed for a whole other reason.

“Yeah, you can get my details off the team. I’ll let them know I’m okay with it.” You smiled.

“Okay, great. I can't wait.” She kissed your cheek. 

“Yeah, Lucy Bronze is my favourite, I can't wait to see her.” You smirked.

She gave you a fake laugh and rolled her eyes. Smiling as she nudged you away. “Ha ha! So funny.” 

What was happening to you? You never allowed this but Alexia was something else, someone completely different, you genuinely liked the girl. 

“Good bye, my Queen” Alexia kissed your lips. 

You pulled back “Good bye la meva Reina.”

You opened the door, one of the ‘toys’ was waiting outside to accompany Alexia out. You said your final goodbyes and watched the Spaniard leave. A weird feeling sat in your stomach, you had never felt like this before, but a weird empty space had overtaken you. The only thing you could hope was that she didn't chicken out wanting to see you next week.

—---

A couple days had passed and you hadn't gotten anything from the girl you assumed she didn't do it, or she changed her mind. Until one evening you heard a notification on your phone. You smiled as you read it.

‘Link Attachment - Tickets, VIP access for Barcelona grounds.’

Alexia - Sorry it took a while, my team hadn't sent it over. I hope you can still make it x

You - I was starting to think I’d have to watch it from home lol. Thank you, I can't wait x

Alexia - ahaha, no! I got you amazing seats. How have you been? X

You spoke throughout the night, you couldn't get over the way Alexia made you feel. There was a connection you had with her that felt so natural, butterflies fluttered in your stomach for the next week, until you were face to face with La Reina again.

[youryanderedaddy]

Summary: You're a princess locked in a tower and guarded by a big, scary dragon. But is he as scary as it seems? tw: female reader, deceit, manipulation, murder (not reader), stockholm syndrome(?) My ko - fi <3

As the youngest princess, you'd always known you would end up like this. In some far off land with little to your name other than some jewels, stuck in a tower just like your mother had been before she got married to a foreign lord, and finally allowed to re-join society. It was such a cliche it was funny at first, but now you just felt like screaming at the top of your lungs from boredom.

At first you didn't feel the unknown presence. The tall man was lurking in the shadows, as if part of the ancient building. You could smell the herbs in the air around him - the minthy fragrance trailing long after he had retired to his chambers. Then little by little you started to recognise him - in certain shades of sunlight, in the back of mirrors, in the tiny lizards crawling at the corners of the stone walls. But nothing could prepare you for that first morning when you saw him - really saw him.

You had woken up early, startled by noise reminiscent of that a bird makes during flight - but multiplied tenfold. You had looked through the window with a weak, fluttering heart. And then you saw his true form - massive yellow wings covered in what looked like pure gold burning brightly in the sky. Long, hard body made of sun - kissed flakes; so sharp they could be used as arrows. And a thin, curled tail drawing circles around your tower.

One of his empty moonlit eyes turned towards you, and it was all over. He immediately dissapeared into thin air, the only evidence of his existence being miles of thick gray smoke. But you weren't going to let the only living creature around run away so easily.

"I saw you!" You screamed long before you could even begin thinking of proper etiquette. Ladylike behavior be damned, you were dying of loneliness in this stupid tower. "Please..." You begged, voice hoarse and desperate from weeks of forced silence. "Come here." You continued ruefully, playing with your hair, chest riddled with anxiety - after all you hadn't spoken to a human being in so long.

You heard a long, almost pained sigh, which made you turn around. You were greeted by a tall brooding figure. It wore the face of a man, but its long golden hair and broad, muscular shoulders pointed to something a lot less human and a lot more devine. He must have been twice your size - trully intimating in all his shining glory. Even in his human form his skin seemed to glow just like his sharp almond - shaped black orbs, constricted in his yellow pupils.

"I'm always here, Your Highness." You remember his exact words simply because you were taken aback by how soft his voice was - just like fine silk. It wasn't the voice of a dragon, but the voice of an angel. "You just never see me." He added with what you then assumed was a hint of playfulness, but now recognised as annoyance. With that he leaned against the wall, crossing his hands together.

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

Many months passed since that fateful day. You slowly got to know your new companion - or perhaps, guardian. You learnt that many called him Cain after the fallen son* - once a strong soldier of the Lohemian Kingdom, his injuries had made it impossible to keep fighting. That's how your father found him - abandoned by his brothers, lying in a mudded puddle of his own blood. The rest was history.

He didn't speak very much - but he never left your questions unanswered.

"Cain..." You'd call out with practised uncertainty. Even so far removed from your peers, you still couldn't escape the twisted societal ideals of propriety. You could never be too eager to speak to a man - even if he wasn't fully human. "Is that your real name?" You wondered, genuinely curious. You slowly looked away from the book you were holding and towards your friend, the book long forgotten. The dragon was sitting in the other corner of the room. Despite all the time you had spent together so far, he was still hesitant to come near you. There was a certain stiffness in his strong shoulders - as well as his jaw.

"Princess..." The man mumbled softly, your heart aching by the sheer tenderness of the term. Usually you'd pay it no mind as it was your right from birth, your title - but titles didn't matter here. There was no place for status or riches between those four intimate walls that always felt small despite the spacious squares. "Don't you know curiousity got the cat's tongue?" He responded with a crooked smile that didn't quite reach his eyes - even his smiles were serious and stoic.

"You have it all wrong." You huffed, standing up from your comfortable chair just to make a big, dramatic gesture with your hands. "It's curiosity killed the cat." You stated confidently, waving your finger at the dragon. He let out a soundless chuckle and averted his gaze away from you. He still couldn't get over the fact that you weren't afraid of him.

"Whatever my Princess says, goes." Cain teased, eyes narrowing further - now they looked like two pitch black slits. He tuck one disobedient lock of gold behind his pointy ear, making the glass beads of his earring jingle in tone. "Just don't say I didn't warn you." He whispered with slight condescension, toying with the dancing little crystals. "My name is Kaajin, if you must know. I doubt you can spell it. It's in Lohemian." He suddenly stared at you as if in a challenge. "Does this change anything? Anything at all."

You shook your head - of course no. There was little your protector could do to make your feelings change; not when you had been so terribly alone without him. Not when he looked at you as if you were precious - breakable, yet precious.

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

The days went by slowly. There was nothing there to help pass the time - just your voice and his voice blending together in the echo of the tower. Again and again and again.

"Entertain me." You asked authoritatively, looking at your friend from down below while you were sitting on the ground. You were bored - so very bored. "I don't remember ever signing up to be your personal jester, my Princess." Cain, no, Kaajin replied succinctly, showing off two pointy fangs - and you couldn't help recalling the story of the Sleeping Beauty and the spindle that sent her into deep, eternal slubmer. You wondered how his teeth would feel against your finger - and your throat. Whether they'd tire you or save you with the kiss of true love.

"Please?" You asked sweetly, just the way he liked - just like you had done that cold winter day in December when you first met face to face. It seemed to work, because soon after that you could feel him move through the room with a tired step - ever so dramatic, closing in on you. "Sure." The dragon breathed in your ear, enjoying the way the flesh quickly reddened with emotion. He reached behind the sensitive shell and slowly waved his fingers just short of your nose. In his hand just milimeters from you was hanging a thin silver chain with a little red rose dangling down. "Here. Have fun." He let it slip past his slender fingers and you swiftly reached to catch it before it could break in thousand pieces.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" You asked, puzzled - still looking at the delicate bracelet and the way it seemed to come alive under direct sunlight. "I am not a child." You suddenly puffed, stuffing it into the pocket of your long skirts. Kaajin only clicked his tongue, gently tugging at your wrist until you took it out of your pocket. "Don't be so ungrateful." His strict yet plush voice took you out of your little outburst, and you finally looked up. His eyes were measuring you up, scanning for any hidden movement - any secret emotion. "I am a dragon, remember? We tend to be awfuly protective of our things."

Your eyes filled with curiosity once again. "You mean your jewels?" He nodded rhytmically, trying to keep his composure at the mention of his old, forgotten customs. "I've read some stories about dragon kings stealing piles of golden coins and locking them away for all eternity. "You chuckled to yourself. "Like they could ever use them." Even after all those years you still found the thought amusing. Humans spent their youth slaving away so they could waste the money gained once they were old and wise. Dragons, on the other hand, were satisfied with holding onto wealth and jewels and all those shiny human things - with little understanding of the subejctive value they held in the human world.

"Yes. It's true indeed. Dragons-" Your guard nodded yet again, now somewhat uneasy. "We take good care of our..." He averted his eyes far away from you. "treasures." He finished stiffly, gaze basically burning the ground. "So you shouldn't take my gift lightly. You should wear it with pride. And perhaps in time you'd find another use for it, too." The man explained, a slight blush spreading across his usually high, cold cheeks.

You smiled gingerly, kissing your fingers around the chain before pressing it to your chest - close to your heart.

"I shall cherish it forever, then." You exclaimed, feeling warm inside. You were uncertain as to why, but your stomach was spinning wildly, as if filled with bubbles. "But you still owe me some fun." You giggled, running to start the old phonograph in the corner of the room. It was your favourite thing in the whole world - which didn't mean a lot up here, but it was enough to make your legs move on their own.

As you danced to Vaarlen's famous spring waltz, the air seemed lighter and the cramped hall just slightly more grandiose. It was easier to breathe. You extended your hand towards your dragon, asking him to join.

"You know I don't dance, princess." He grunted, his mood souring. He never told you why he hated it so much, but the man was never too fond of music. Still, you decided to try again. "Oh, come on. Just this once." He didn't seem convinced. "Let me teach you as a thank you gift. I'm serious." You tapped your chest playfully. The man rolled his eyes, then gently took your hand in his. You almost broke into a giddy giggle - for the first time since your family locked you up in the rotten tower you felt happy.

And he always gave into you.

So you two danced, both lost to the music and your own racing thoughts. Kaajin kept his distance, but his hold was strong onto your wrist - unrelenting, like he never wanted to let go. Your body twisted and turned, perfectly synced to the chords, blind to the pass of time. You only realized it had become evening once your back hit the window - it was dark outside. Yet another day gone. Yet another day lost.

"Kaajin..." You could feel the tears burning at your wet lashes before you could stop yourself. You had promised yourself not to think about it anymore - not today, or ever for that matter, but it was impossible once you were faced with the Creator of All. The Master of everything, of everyone - time. How could you ever pretend otherwise?

"Do you think-" You bit the inside of your cheek, your hands fighting the guilt as you let go of his. "Do you think my father would ever let me go into the outside world?"

The guard gulped dry, taking a step back to give you space.

"I-" He took a deep breath, gaining the courage to look at you. "I don't know. The war is still going. Your kingdom has lost many brave men and women. Even the strongest soldiers are starting to capitulate." He couldn't bear to look at your pretty face all messed up by the pain and sorrow, but it was for the best.

"I understand." You muttered, turning your back to him - curling back into yourself. You felt his arms wrap around you, and you remained quiet - neither fighting it, nor embracing it. "Don't cry, my princess." The man whispered. "No matter what happens, I will always be by your side." He meant it. You knew it by now, and that only made it all the more tragic. "I swear on my life." You believed him, you had no reason not to - he was the only one you had left.

As for your father, he couldn't really give a proper order now, Kaajin thought. After all, dead men tell no tales.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Teenage Dream [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A trip to Asgard means a visit to Loki's childhood bedroom - and his teenage fantasy. (w/c 1.9k) Warnings: 18+ only. Loki x Female Reader. Established relationship. Smut. Body fluids etc etc. Language.

“This is your childhood bedroom?!” Loki’s arms spread wider, turning in a lazy circle as you gape at the high ceilings and golden cornicing. Open archways lead to a balcony which runs along the full side of one wall, Asgard sprawling below in afternoon sunlight. It’s huge.

“What did you expect?” Loki shoots a lovingly indignant look over his shoulder. “Some kind of hovel-sized quarter the kind of which Stark has bestowed on Lang?”

His boots thud in quick succession on polished marble before he jumps through the air and lands on the modest queen-size with a bounce – a hand balled at his temple. The sheets have clearly been replaced since he last laid in it, but old habits die hard. The green and gold of his colours is in full effect in this room from the curtains to the tapestries and the quilt draped across the mattress. “Lie with me,” he says, looking up through his lashes. “Please?”

Something about seeing Loki dressed in his, what he still calls, ‘Midgard garms’ suddenly seems ridiculous in one of Asgard’s royal bedchambers. A pair of tight black jeans cling to his muscles, denim shifting as he draws one knee over the other to rest on the bed. His forest green t-shirt has ridden up at his lower stomach, a victim of the obscene measurements of his stretching body. He chuckles lightly, making a thick line of his obliques tighten as he slips his fingers further into mussed hair. "I told you I was a prince," he says sheepishly.

You make your way to the bed and he flips to his back, releasing a happy groan as you straddle him. His eyelids droop, a flash of his upper teeth as he bites his bottom lip. "Frigga will be expecting us," you say as you roll your hips against his crotch. "Uhhh...gods-" he grunts, large palms rubbing up your thighs tight on either side of his chest. ‘Frigga can wait. I said I would give you a tour, and give you a tour...I shall.’ "Not from down there you won’t."

You yelp as Loki sits up and his lips fasten to yours, hand cradling the back of your head and forcing you in a violent kiss. He bites your bottom lip, sucking out gently. You moan softly as his hands begin to rub your thighs again. He’s needy. The sentimentality of bringing you Asgard for the first time is doing a real number on him. Your fingers run down his neck, down the hard dips and ridges of his abdomen through the t-shirt.

“I used to pleasure myself in this bed, dreaming of a woman like you-” he says huskily, beginning to thrust upwards. The painfully tight erection bursting against denim rubs against your gusset, toying back and forth. You feel a swell of arousal web between your folds as your eyes dart towards the open door. Just a crack, but it’s enough. The guards are never far in the palace it seems, even for a Prince who’s all grown up.

“Say more,” you tease. It’s a whisper, but it seems to echo. Loki chuckles quietly into the curve of your neck before he tips you easily to the side. You meet the mattress with a bounce, your head disappearing between the crevice of two plush pillows. Loki’s long form rises above you, impossibly rectangular, spread on his knees, the denim screaming around his crotch.

“It may come as a surprise to you that I was an awkward young man,” he starts, riding up the hem of his t-shirt. His leather belt sits maddeningly at the dent of his hips, perfect alabaster skin of his stomach flashing into view. “No!? I would never have guessed...” you joke, surprised at your ability to think straight as Loki’s shirt pops over his head. He throws it away, skittering gently across the marble floor. His eyes flash mischievously.

“But I had urges, of course; fucked myself night after night like a demon; elaborate fantasies formed in my head with excruciating detail.” He falls forward against the pillows, the bulge of his shoulders tensing as he cages you.

“I wouldn’t let myself cum until every detail in my head was perfect,” he breathes, letting long tendrils of hair drag against your throat in time with the filth of his dulcet syllables. “Again and again. It was enough to drive a young man to madness.”

“Did you ever have-?” you start, cut off by a pathetic moan as Loki drags his bound cock against your clit. “Never," he whispers. "This bed is as virginal as myself when I left it.”

The warm glow of his magic pulses from his skin. Loki’s jeans are gone, replaced by a green silk robe open at the waist. It's Asgardian craftsmanship, that much is obvious. Gold weaving edges the hem, its age betrayed only by the sleeves which are a little too short. The sage shimmer melts into the wave of his hair, and for a second you can’t bring yourself to believe there wasn’t a line forming outside his bedroom every night after he came of age.

He rests back on his haunches between your legs, flipping out the robe at the nip of his taut waist. Loki’s eyes smoulder, waiting for you to ask.

“Which one do you want?” you say. It times perfectly with a twitch of his proud cock as he draws a finger back and forth along its length. His chin dips and a small smile creeps at the corner of his lips.

Loki raises a hand, a theatrical snap of his fingers making the ceiling height door to the chamber swing closed with an almighty clang. Even under normal circumstances, doors don’t close quietly in the palace; it is by design.

“My goddess riding me,” he says, raising his gaze to yours. “Then once I’ve filled her, she crawls to my face; smothers me with her perfect, dripping sex; calls my name so loudly in ecstasy that my brother hears it all the way in the taverns.”

Your brows raise. “That’s quite specific.”

Loki shrugs. “I told you. It needed to be perfect. I spent a lot of time thinking about it.” You shuffle up on the pillows, curling one side of his silk robe in a fist and pulling his mouth to yours. He manoeuvres around, lying back against the pillows with bright eyes while you crawl on top of him once more.

“Are you my sweet virginal Prince?” you ask, batting your lashes. Loki snickers. "If you like." “I do.” “Aright then,” he sniffs. “Although I should warn you, for a virgin – I am rather an expert.” “Shhh-” You press a finger to his lips. "I read a lot of books," he explains with overly-earnest eyes, muffled against your finger. “Let’s get you some practice, then..” you whisper, rolling your hips up the length of his cock. Loki whimpers, brows slanting. You can't tell if that part is for show. With a slip of his hand against your ass you feel your dress dissolve, the nip of a breeze through the open arches making your nipples stiffen. Loki’s head leaves the pillow and catches one in his mouth as your hand guides his cock between your legs. You rub the tip against your slit, slipping back and forth as guttural groans roll in his throat.

"My virgin Prince," you coo.

Loki’s head falls back to the pillow, a warning brow rising. But his eyes sparkle. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock; each hard inch of muscle tugging against your walls as you settle to the hilt.

“Every time you do that,” Loki rasps, “it’s everything I ever dreamt of in this bed, I swear.” You flatten a curl of hair back from his forehead, rocking your hips back and forth. His hands slide up your waist, cupping your breasts as he pants beneath you. A vein in his neck throbs as he grits his teeth to the ceiling. He won’t last, not today. And that’s just fine.

You press his shoulders down, limiting his thrusts. If he wanted to, he could overthrow the touch in an instant. But he wont, not today; not in this bed. Every time you reach the tip of his cock you squeeze and his lips part; every time you sink him deep into your cunt they press together, like he doesn’t trust himself not to howl. The squelching is louder now. The moaning, too. You and Loki have fucked many times, in many places – in every conceivable position, each time you think you could never be more aroused, he proves you wrong. But something’s different about him here. When his beautiful eyes open, the dark fan of his lashes seem to pop against the vibrant blue ringing blown pupils.

Loki’s fingers sink deep into the plump of your ass. He pulls in time with your rhythm, drawing the flat of his feet up. In seconds, he sits up to meet your mouth; his tongue lapping against yours with quiet desperation. Your fingers run down his abdomen and you feel his stomach clench.

“Fill me, baby-” you whine into his open mouth, “show me what Asgard’s finest cock can give me.” Loki grunts in pleasured anguish, thrusting in erratic shudders as he erupts inside your heat. The angle is tight. Fresh seed creams at the seal of your slit and wells around the rim of his half-sheathed cock as he comes undone with a ragged exhale of your name. He captures you in a messy kiss, falling away from your mouth to your chest before collapsing back to the pillows. He squints with one eye, a lazy hand beckoning. “You sure?” There’s an unusual shyness in your voice. Loki nods with a wolfish, lopsided grin; drunk on sex. You shuffle up his abdomen, feeling a thick roll of hot cum settling against your inner thigh. Your fingers curl around the wooden headboard, Loki’s large palms settling on your ass and keeping you high. His head tilts, warm tongue tracing your inner thigh and sucking his seed from your skin. A violent shiver of desire rolls down your spine, making you thrust towards his face.

“I’ll try my best-” he purrs in character from between your legs.

His eyes are all you can see as his tongue outstretches. They disappear as he dips further back, running his warmth between your folds. He tilts his chin up, a white pool collected on his tongue. Loki of Asgard looks up from bottomless eyes, the planes of his cheekbones sharpened. You shoot down and jam your tongue into his open mouth. His cum swirls within the kiss, mingling with the earthy taste of your own pussy – swallows and moans and filth sliding down your throats. Loki gasps loudly as your kiss breaks with a slurp. “Was that in your fantasy?” you ask innocently, resuming your position above his head. “I regret now, that even in the depths of my teenage depravity, it was not,” Loki growled, squeezing your ass-cheeks. He nudges you closer. “Now, finish me,” he orders as he pushes you down against his face. The flat of Loki’s tongue meets your plump clit. Each flush and fat stripe of the muscle has no pretence – he intends to make you climax; and climax hard. Your nails dig into the headboard, scratching down pristine oak lined with gold. Images of Loki as a virginal youth rear in your mind, thrashing in these sheets, under this very ceiling, twisting and unravelling beneath the beat of his fist. Your thighs begin to tremble, held steady by his fingertips sinking deep into the curve of your ass. Loki’s tongue is relentless; it swirls and captures every flush of sparking orgasm and tends it with the next lap of his attentions. Before long, your legs tense – and somehow, one of your hands has tangled in his hairline, pushing him deeper, his nose slotted perfectly at the lip of your mound. The sight is all it takes. “Loki-” you choke, punctuated by a final devastatingly soft lick of his flat tongue over your sex. “Mmrph…” he grunts, brow furrowing. You hold your breath as climax shatters you, the exhale a strangled sob of his name that sings around the ceilings and tumbles out the archways.

You collapse on his chest, the two of you panting heavily. A thin sheen of fresh sweat clings to his skin. You trace the angle of his jaw, smiling as a dream-like peace descends on his features. “Do you think Thor heard?” “From Midgard? I doubt it,” Loki sighs, letting one of his legs fall open to the side. He’s hard again. “But I can let that part of the fantasy slide. Everything else was...perfection, my love.” You prop a fist beneath your chin. “Maybe we just need to try harder.”

“Fuck harder, you mean?” Loki says, a smirk curling the corners of his lips. “You did promise me a palace tour…” you say, drawing your knuckles up the velvet skin of his cock stretching against his stomach. Loki’s smirk grows wider.

Tags (continued in comments)

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[tarjapearce]

Lips anon! Dark King Miguel and the gentle princess. The original one except Miguel is the king you dread to marry. Even more so when you meet him. He's a hulking man adorned with obsidian armor laced with gold. Cold piercing red eyes. If you weren't terrified, you would have seen how handsome he was, and that his gaze was filled with intrigue rather than hatred.

He takes your hand in armored claws, and kisses it. Now you blush.

You were to spend a good chunk of time in the palace with him until the day of the wedding. At first it's a nightmare because you are with someone who's slaughtered thousands of men, but he's gentle with you. Not exactly kind. But gentle.

Oh oh, imagine she took a little diary with her. She records her time in his lands, and he finds it while snooping in her room (checking for any weapons and such). He reads it and finds quite a bit about her. He rolls his eyes at the passage of her describing her dream man, but he is very intrigued about her wanting a bunch of children. He can give that to her, he wants many heirs too 🤭

Im such a sucker for these sort of tropes :'D ❤️❤️❤️ (Had to write this twice cause Tumblr erased the draft midway 😭😭)

You fretted in your chambers.

Despite the kingdom's overall economy and exterior political relations were thriving, the feeling of wariness set heavyly on your chest. The Queen and King had forbidden your stay at the most recent council's meeting, and when you demanded an explanation, you were met with nothing but silence and pained looks.

"Your Majesty! Come back here! You can't go inside!"

"They are hiding something from me, Lucille. I know it!"

"But you just can't interrupt!" Your maid and friend had been trying to prevent to get in the throne room. She caught your arm and looked solemn for a moment.

"You... You too?"

She shook her head and sighed, pulling you to a more private spot.

"You must be very quiet, ok?" Lucille guided you through a secret little passageway you didn't know the castle had. Hidden in plain sight that took you exactly where you wanted, a small hole on the wall enough for you too take a glimpse of the room.

Sparse, war table on a side, some guards you couldn't recognize stood next to a chair, partially revealing who sat in it. You could only get a small reveal of his arms. Dark skinned, strong arms clad in obsidian and golden that ended in a claw like gauntlet.

"Your Majesty" Your dad spoke, a slight tremor in his voice, "I think we are rushing into conclusions, ser. You'll see our men-"

"I don't want your men, neither your women. My army is more than enough and if I wished, your kingdom would be wiped out at my command."

You father stressed kn his chair as your mother just watched with keen eyes the display of power.

"We might not be a large kingdom, your majesty-"

"You're right, ser. You're like a tiny and annoying stone that got in my greaves, but I have had enough bloodshed for now"

"T-Then what is it you want, your majesty?"

You frowned at the armored man's attitude as dread crept up your bones. His gauntlet curled on his head, pondering as he slicked his soft, wavy and dark locks back.

"Surprise me, your majesty" He sneered the two last words and you swallowed.

"I will give you the most precious thing I possess, your highness." Your mother spoke confidently as her eyes were casted at the man.

"Being?"

"My daughter. The princess."

Lucille gasped and you quickly covered her mouth. His ears perked at the sound and tensed, but ignored it since he just chuckled.

"I came here in order for you to understand why I need the West passage of your borders open, not to get married." He stood and it was yout time to gasp at the size of him. He looked gigantic, your father had to crane his head up to meet his eyes.

"Think about it, your highness." Your mother pressed as she also stood.

"We can't open the passage due to political differences between our Kingdom and Erunia. It's closing wasn't to meddle in your affairs, but more like a preventive solution in our safety, in case an invasion happened. The least of things we would want is another war against a powerful kingdom we know we have no chance against. "

The obsidian clad man seemed to pay attention to your mother's words

"Sure, our Kingdom is thriving again, and economy and politics seem promising, but you must also understand we have nothing much to offer you when we are still recovering from a war. We still mourn, and we are getting on our feet again."

Your throat tightened upon her mentioning mourn. Your brother, the prince had died in battle.

"And for me to offer you, this kingdom's most precious jewel... I'll leave it to your interpretation."

The man seemed to relax slightly. Political things weren't your strength but, you didn't have to be a genius to know that tension had been rising within the neighbor kingdoms. Yours was a small one that served as a bridge among the others. Without you, the rest would collapse bit by bit.

"I offer you protection, in exchange of your daughter."

Tears welled up in your eyes. They were using you like an object. The deal was sealed, and so was your fate.

------

You had refused to see your parents after that, your mother had explained that it was for the kingdom's best interest.

"But what about me? I know that is selfish to think this way but, this is not what I want."

"It's not about what you want, more like what must be done. Your duty as a princess is to see for the people's interest, my dear. Our wishes matter little when the men think it's funny to play war."

"But mother, how could I possibly marry someone like that? Arachne kingdom is ruthless! And so is it's ruler!"

"We had no choice, my dear. Your brother... Im sure your brother would have chosen to try and wage a war against him to keep our autonomy... There is enough bloodshed as it is for now." She cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead.

"Besides, he is not that bad. He was... civil and wise enough to hear us. And now, thanks to you we have his protection and a new chance of being the kingdom we used to be."

-----------

You were set to depart to Arachne's kingdom within two weeks, and you made sure to enjoy the last bits of your freedom in your home. The wedding was set within 3 months. Or so the dark scroll the mysterious man had sent, said.

And when that day arrived, your carriage departed between sobs, anguish and heartfelt goodbyes. You didn't like the feeling of being seen as a martyr, but it gave your people hope.

----

If you had to describe Arachne's beauty you'd settle for twisted. A contradiction of many types of beauty melded in a single space. The outskirts were full of thorns so thick you thought your carriage would be crushed before even reaching the castle, but the more your caravan approached, the sceneries changed into something less harrowing to a more utopic sort of settling.

Tall towers stood proud in the different cities, but one thing you couldn't help but notice were the elite guards. Mostly clad in a light armor, red and blue, a spider-skull like emblem on their chest. You weren't allowed to bring Lucille with you, a strange petition from this... Miguel King.

Miguel O'Hara. Ruler of Arachne. Commander of an elite force with abilities that surpassed the common guard forces. Many said it was his secret to get him where he was. Despite the rumors about the kingdom being desolated and hunger stricken, witnessing the opposite with your own eyes made your heart a little hopeful.

After all he had sent a small crew of four to guard you during the trip. A blonde girl with a left side of her head shaven, a tall dark young man with braids on each side of his head slicked back with a look that pierced your soul, Another black man with many perforations in his face, with the strangest hairdo you had seen in someone, and their commander. A tall, black slender woman with a red and obsidian armor. None of you talked during the trip. But the pierced face young man and the blonde girl offered you small, almost sympathetic smiles your way.

----

Your arrival at the castle was announced. Your four escorts guided you to the main hall and kneeled before the man you had only caught a minimal glimpse of. Red eyes regarded your form, clad in a emerald green with golden trims dress.

You could notice his eyes widening just slightly as you entering the room. And then he stood. Your breath was caught in your throat and just as your father, you had to crane your head up to meet his eyes. Captivating yet full of unspeakable things. But you were certain, hatred wasn't one of them, rather wonder. He stared at you with mild curiosity.

You revered before him.

"Princess (Name) of Theleria, at your service, my lord." Sweet and soft spoken. A stark contrast of his overall aura. He noticed the small tremor in your hands and chuckled.

"Welcome, Princesa." Despite his imposing and intimidating looks, his royal etiquette shone through.

"Make yourself at home" Or so it did it's best. He returned to his work. He wasn't much for words as you were escorted to your own chambers. You certainly were swooned by the place grandeur and the elite force you had heard so much.

"Your Majesty sends his apologies, he won't be able to meet you during dinner. Would you like to eat on your chambers, or in the dining hall?" The man wore another red and blue armor, you had noticed that only commanders wore a certain type of armor.

"In my room, ser. Thanks."

He nodded with a smile and left. Your room was enormous, easily mistaken for a whole wing. You had dinner in your room.

--------

"Where is she?"

"In her room. She preferred to eat inside."

"Hm." Miguel hummed as he spreaded some map before him. Peter looking at him.

"Want me to arrange a tea meeting with her?"

Miguel's nose scrunched and he shook his head.

"Make it a lunch. I don't like tea."

"I know, coffee guy. You think her parents will keep their word?"

"They better, if not, we'll wipe them."

"Wouldn't that be harrowing for your future bride?"

Miguel arched an eyebrow at him

"Merely political affairs."

"She's pretty"

"Hm and gentle. You know what happens to gentle people."

"They get an arranged marriage with a ruthless belicist of a king." Peter couldn't help but giggle at his mortified expression.

"One more-"

"And I'm out. I know, I know pal. Get some rest. Your eyebags are packing for vacation already" Peter smiled at his annoyed sigh, then left him be.

-----

The lunch never came, as you were stood up, again. You had expected much, after all it was an arranged marriage, of course the desire of knowing eachother just for pretense was only in your imagination. However you had noticed that his gaze lingered on you for more than he actually let on.

You had been sorted through the city, to meet it's people, and so far mostly looked happy? Children ran around a fountain, merchants exposed and sold their goods, art supplies and a small leathery notebook, caught your attention. The extense array of colors had you grinning and marveling at things you had never seen before. Charcoals, complete drawing kits, turpentine, canvas made out of the richest materials.

Arachne's people were kind, welcoming and it just made you wonder how such kind of people had a blood thirsty man for a king? Not that he intentionally waged wars just for fun and giggles. Peter watched you with a lazy smile, occasionally recommending things to try. He and the blonde girl, whose name happened to be Gwen, we're kind enough to answer each of your questions. You didn't dare to ask about Miguel. He seemed too busy to be disturbed and by the way his face was always set in a permanent frown, made you wonder how would things would be in your wedding day.

He was aloof, too buried in his own world of War and battles. You couldn't help but nod with an absentminded expression at Peter saying he won't be for dinner either.

"Of course." That's all you uttered before you returned to the castle and retreated to your room. Your chest constricting tightly.

-----------

"You know, getting any sort of contact with her wouldn't hurt you." Peter spoke as he was polishing his gauntlets.

Miguel remained silent, eyes too focused on the scroll before him.

"How was the trip?"

"She was like a kid in a candy store when we stopped in an art shop."

"Something she liked?" Peter smiled and scrubbed the wax away from the gauntlet

"Paintings and art supplies. She loved the cherry pie and couldn't stop marveling at how dreamlike the city looked"

"Hm. Her kingdom is... small. Nothing much to look around. Anyways, get her what she liked. "

"Beg your pardon?" Peter blinked at him

"Told you to get her what she liked."

"Of course. "

-----

The following days you were either holed up in your bedroom, or in the gardens making small talk with the servants. They seemed good and easygoing people, and it kept you from giving into the loneliness feeling that seemed to loom over your head with each passing day.

Sometimes you'd caught glimpses of him, a small group of elite soldiers tailing behind him in scary synchronization. Your eyes would meet for seconds, but he'd just look away and continue his work.

At this point you knew what the apologetic look on Peter or Gwen meant. He wasn't showing up.

"I'm sorry."

"Have I done something to... upset him this way? To the point of him maybe finding my company repulsive? "

Peter seized you with a frown.

"I know he is a busy man, wars don't wage on their own, I know much. But..." You shook your head and sighed, "Nevermind that. I'm just being pretentious. Bid you a good evening, ser Peter."

You bowed to him and left to your room. You had refused kindly your dinner.

---------

The next day a couple of guards entered your room as you were writing a letter for your parents. They saluted Peter and left.

"Your Majesty." He bowed and guided your to the medium sized wooden box.

"A gift from the king" Your eyes widened in surprise, your cheeks growing a bit warmer.

"Thank you, ser Peter." You smiled and rummaged through its contents, small squeal upon looking at the leathery notebook you had seen before. Peter left and you wasted no time into enjoying your gift.

Papers, watercolors, oil paints, colored waxes, painting brushes, paint remover, it felt like a dream. Your chest felt giddy at the idea that showed up in your mind.

-----

You gave Peter a small box with something you had done.

"Ser Peter?"

"Yes, your majesty?"

"Could you give this to the King?" You handed him a small velvet pouch. A small canvas in it.

"Do you think he would like it?"

"I'm sure he will, your majesty" Peter smiled.

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

Miguel took the pouch suspiciously, but his eyes widened at the small painting of himself with a small piece of scroll. A fancy and curvy scribblings on it

Thank you for your kindness, my lord.

Your penmanship impeccable, years of princess etiquette and training reflected on it. his lips curved a bit. You had gotten a good angle of him.

---------

He snuck in your room as you had gone to the city with Peter and Gwen again. This time, the man with the pierced face came along.

He didn't expect it to be so you. Paintings you did, dried on the window, drawings of things that caught your interest the most; cherries, birds, nature, and kids. Not that he didn't trust you, he just wanted to see with his own eyes what you had done so far with his gift.

He was glad to find you hadn't wasted it at all. The leathery book however made him to pick it up. It was your own diary. His hands carefully flipped the pages, reading into his contents.

A drawing of him with the caption "king of Arachne and quite aloof." the latter in small letters. He sighed and flipped the pages.

The bakery man is such a gentleman! And his pies so scrumptious.

He chuckled at the little pie drawing you did. He found more descriptions in what seemed to be this type of ideal man for you. He rolled his eyes. But the last lines of the pages caught his interest the most.

After losing my brother, it has come to my thinking. I would love a big family on my own.

You wanted kids. Heirs.

The steps outside alerted him as he tossed the diary back on your bed, and soon you'd enter through the door. The way your eyes looked at him with surprise made his heart to flutter softly. He had met rivals in the battlefield, all giving him a horrifying look, begged him to not come closer. But never he had someone to look at him like you were.

His eyes softened as he walked over you. Lips pressed together, you bowed.

"My lord."

He bowed too, adding more wide at your surprise.

"Enjoying your gift?".

"Very much. Thank you." His thank you gift came into mind.

"Did you... receive mines?"

"Of course."

"Did you like?"

Sweet face looked at him, expectantly. His pulse quickened.

"Si." He mumbled and you looked at him confused for a second.

"I'll take it as a yes?" You smiled.

So so sweet.

He relaxed.

"I'll see you in the dining hall."

"Oh?"

To your surprise he looked at you as he took your hand and kissed the back of your soft palm.

"Don't be late". He left.

[giuliettagaltieri]

Cry of Outrage

Pairing: President!Coriolanus Snow x First Lady!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: The Saviour

Warning: elitism, vulnerability, violence, injury, blood

Word Count: 2748

5 of 6

Y/N Swansworth-Snow.

The first thing that Coriolanus did when he became President was to give you his last name.  You, his ally, his accomplice, and now, his First Lady.

The entirety of Panem celebrated with you.  No, not just the Capitol.  All the other Districts fell in love with the two of you.  Having been blinded by your tour that was so successful, it ruined any doubts they had for the new President.

And to make it even better, the ruse between you and Coriolanus gave way for true affections to blossom.

But having the love of the said President does not mean that your marriage will be anything similar to a typical couple.  You are the leaders of Panem after all.

Most of your day is taken up by meeting other politicians and studying bills to further strengthen the Capitol and subdue thoughts of rebellions from the Districts.

Your evenings are also spent attending the invitations of your supporters.

“Heavens!  The party is in five hours and I have absolutely nothing to wear.”  You groan in your seat as Coriolanus chuckles as he taps at the steering wheel.

This was one thing that he requested for the both of you.  No chauffeurs.  Not that your security is at risk when you are sandwiched between two cars loaded with the presidential guards.

The two of you had been spending your luncheon with the Plinths.  Had it not been for your assistants reminding you of a party this evening, you would have forgotten.

“You should wear that gold dress I bought you last month.”  He hums.

“The one with actual gold in it?”  You frown.  “We are only meeting the District 1 representatives, is it necessary to wear such a pretty gown?”

You stop at the red traffic light and Coriolanus turns to you, his knuckle brushing your cheek.  “You’re not wearing it for them, my love.”  His voice is calm but there was something about him that made you feel like he was scolding you.  Of course, you try your best to keep a straight face but the way you fiddled with your seatbelt did not go unnoticed by him.  “You will be wearing it for me.  Always for me.  Understand?”

You nod at him.

“Words.”

“Yes, Corio.  I understand.”

Ever since you got married, you have somewhat changed.  You are still the same calculating Y/N Swansworth, but you are more docile, easily flustered, almost shy.

“Mmh, there’s a good girl.”

His thumb caresses your cheek before focusing back on the road.

Coriolanus Snow takes pleasure in his discovery of this attitude from you.  How you are the commanding First Lady in the public, and a sweet little wife to him when he has you all to himself.  You did not grow out of that crush you had for him, it seems.  You got better at hiding it while he was away, but in the end, you were still his, body and soul.

As you get ready in your vanity that night, your eyes scan the files of the guests that will be attending the party as you add the pigeon blood ruby earrings in your ears.

“Darling, my tie, have you seen it?”  Coriolanus calls as he comes out of your shared closet.  His dark red suit compliments your golden gown. 

“In here.”  You reply as you hurriedly put on the other pair of earrings.

You walk over to him to fix his golden tie for him.

He checks his appearance and his hand snakes to the small of your back.  “You look ravishing.”  He pecks your exposed shoulder.  He knows better than to ruin your lipstick.  He will never hear the end of it.

“You are looking pretty sharp, yourself.”  You say as you look at him proudly.  This fine gentleman, one ever so sought after, once the prime bachelor of Panem, is your husband.

Not everybody understands that.

And it infuriates you to no end.  But jealousy can come later, in the present, you must focus on your task at hand.

As you enter the party together, you both agree on a strategy, to part ways and conquer them one by one.

“My brother is likely the one who will follow my father’s footsteps.”  Says the official from District 1.  His suit is a fine one, the best quality.  But the clothing’s value can easily be overlooked by how the wearer parades in it.  “He was always the favorite.”

You look at him in well-practiced sympathy.  “I am terribly sorry.  Here, have a glass of water.”  You snatch one from the passing server to hand it to him.  He has had enough alcohol for tonight.

He gulps it quickly and he nastily wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his beige suit, ruining it with a wet stain, you try to conceal your disgust.

“Phah!”  He spits.  “As if my brother is any good.  He is always at his shooting range with his buddies.  Always buying guns and losing them!”  The man continues to ramble and you sip quietly from your flute.  “I am really grateful that you are keeping me company tonight, Madame First Lady.”  He suddenly grabs at your wrist, his thumb caressing your skin.  Apparently, not grateful enough to observe boundaries.

You smile kindly as you place your other hand atop his.  “No worries, it is my pleasure to be of some service to the people of Panem.”  You gently remove his hand from yours.

He groans, throwing his head back.  “You are a goddess, Madame First Lady.”

“And you are drunk, Mister Sterling.”  You comment as you sip on your champagne once more, eyes scanning the party for whom you shall extract information next.  But your eyes met his.

Coriolanus had his eyes on you the entire time.  He was in a small group of men, all who were talking animatedly.  Coriolanus throws in his inputs in the conversation but his eyes never stray away from you.  He does not look too pleased.

You struggle to look away from him, and you discreetly attempt to swallow the lump in your throat.

“My apologies, you will have to excuse me.”  You smile at Sterling and before he can respond, you are already on your feet, gliding smoothly away in utmost elegance, definitely not scurrying.

You make it to the powder room, nobody suspects you of running away when you look as if you own the place.  But Coriolanus knows better.  He also excuses himself from the other men and follows quickly after you.

He smiles at the people he passes but he is determined to get to where you would be right now.

And there you were, twirling in front of the tall mirror of the bathroom.  It appears like the First Lady of Panem is checking herself out.  Coriolanus leans by the door to enjoy the show, a sly little smirk on his lips.

You slide down your hands on your waist and you turn to observe the curve of your behind and nod.  You then get closer to see your make up in a closer angle, watching for anything that is not in place.

“I was going to wait for you to finish but I cannot keep myself away for much longer.”  His smooth voice echoes around the empty powder room.

The look of surprise on your face brought strange satisfaction to him.

Coriolanus stands behind you and looks at you in the mirror.  His eyes shamelessly roam over your body, and by God! The dress really does suit you.

“You should let me choose your dresses more often.”  He spoke silently and you chuckled at that.

“Do you find me pretty, wearing your gifts, Mister President?”  You tease as you fix your hair.

Nodding, Coriolanus hooks an arm around your midriff to pull you flush against him.  “Prettiest.”  He groans against your nape, his hot breath sending you to a fit of giggles.  “And you’re not leaving my side for the rest of the night, you understand?”

You lean against his sturdy chest and nod like the obedient girl that you are.  “I have a lot of bad news for you, Corio.”

His brows pinched but he didn't let it disturb him from tasting your skin.  Leaving a hot wet trail in his wake.

“Rebels?”  He asks breathily.

Your breath hitches when he gently nips on your ear.  “Might be.  I’m suspecting smuggling of firearms.  I will have my men investigate it first thing tomorrow.”

He hums in approval.  “What would I do without you, wife?”

Your ego is stroked with his words and you can’t help the smile on your lips.  “You would be helpless without me.”

It is a dangerous thing to say to a man like Coriolanus Snow.  Provoking him and threatening his status with words will not end well.  Unless it is you.

“I would crumble, wife.”  He groans to your skin and pulls you closer.  “I would be reduced to nothing.”

When Coriolanus speaks like this, he just manages to sink himself deeper into your heart.

“Good.”  You smile.  “Because I desire you just as fiercely.”  You place a hand on his bicep and you rest your head on his shoulder to press a kiss on his neck.  “You have a speech to make.” 

Coriolanus sighs.  “Just a bit longer.”

You indulge him, tracing patterns on his cheek as he inhales your scent.

Had it not been for a knock on the door, Coriolanus would have held you there forever.

He takes your hand and guides you on stage with him, his darling wife.

The music fades to a gentle melody and the crowd hushes to listen to the speech the President is about to make.

“Our gathering today is not just an event, it is a celebration of collaboration, shared goals, and the strength that comes from unity.”  Coriolanus starts and you position yourself behind him with the kindest smile you can muster.  “I am deeply honored to stand before a group of individuals who bring diverse perspectives, talents, and experiences.” 

A man shakes his head in the corner and you watch him closely.  He seems agitated, his movement jerking as he scratches at his neck, making the skin raw.  He does not look familiar.  He is not in the files you had.

“Your presence here is a testament to the power of coming together, the power of dialogue, and the power of collective effort.”  You step closer to Coriolanus when the man leaves his chair.  The peacekeepers slowly march closer to the man who glares hard at your husband.  “In this room, we have a wealth of knowledge, creativity, and passion that, when harnessed, can propel us to achieve great things.”  A glint from the man’s coat has you tugging Coriolnus behind you by his suit.

A resounding bang fills the air and your body freezes.

It’s wet, you feel the wetness seep your dress and you look down to see a spreading stain of crimson in your side.

Oh…the bullet did not hit Coriolanus.  That’s good.

Screaming rings in the air and it is getting more and more difficult for you to stand.  You feel Coriolanus’ warm hands around you, but your eyes return to the shooter.  Has he been apprehended?  Is your husband still in danger?

“Corio…”  You whimper.  “It’s not safe for you.”

He grits his teeth as he pulls at his tie to wrap it in his fist to press into your wound.  The pressure had you whimpering, clawing unto his sleeve.

“I’m sorry.”  He whispered against your temple.  “You’re gonna be alright.”

You try to laugh but it comes out as a wheeze.  “Of course, I would.”

You are in the arms of the most powerful man in Panem.  No place else is safer.

The noise slowly gets muffled, something akin to your head descending underwater.  The lights blur and the colors mix together.  You blink multiple times just so your husband would come to focus, but your eyelids get heavier and heavier.

He was the last thing you saw before your eyes closed.

“Your daughter seems to have taken a fancy to my son.”

A loud boisterous laughter echoes.  “Nothing but a harmless fascination.”

“The two of them would make a good couple, don’t you agree?”

“That is if they don’t destroy each other first.”

Coriolanus wakes from his slumber in cold sweat.  He runs a hand on his platinum hair, feeling its dampness.  His chest heaves, breathing labored.

What a nightmare to have at a time like this.  His pale eyes search the darkness and he spots you in your marital bed.  He leaves the chaise lounge to walk over to you.  You have been asleep for a day now, recovering after the bullet misses anything fatal.  The events last night shocked him to his core.  He had never been more afraid.  Not even when he saw the dead being hacked to pieces in the dark days.  Or when the arena was bombed when he first mentored, and definitely not when Lucy Gray set off a snake to him.

When he saw you bleed.  It unraveled all there was in him.  His gut twisting, his mind in shambles.  He was angry and afraid.  And the self-loathing that came afterwards was almost unbearable.  That bullet was for him to take, not you.

Coriolanus watches the steady rise and fall of your chest.  It brings him peace to see you still breathing.  Gently, he lies next to you but he was afraid he’d hurt you so he scoots lower until he faces your bandaged abdomen.  He lies curled by your side and he reaches for your hand.

It’s warm, you are with him.  His lips press on your pulse, you are with him.

A lone tear slides to his temple and the sheets greedily soak it in.  It was one of many that he shed for you while you were asleep.

A deep shuddering breath has him sitting up.  Coriolanus observes your face closely. 

“Corio?”

“I’m here, my love.”  He rushes to you and he smiles painfully when you open your eyes.

“Are you hurt?”  You ask worriedly and he almost laughs had his heart not been teared open.

He shakes his head.  “No, you saved me.”  He presses a kiss to your temple.  “You took a bullet for me.”

You grimace.  “How’d he get that gun inside, anyway?”

Coriolanus pursed his lips.  “It was planted in the area prior to the event.”

“Did you find out who he is?”

He nods at you and he pulls you closer.  “From a fallen house here in the Capitol and a servant to the Cranes.  He has more morphine than blood in his veins.  He is being detained now, he will be executed in two days.”

You nod at him.  It all falls into place now.  

Hesitantly, you ask.  “Him and Arachne?”

Coriolanus sighs.  “Or just him.”  Arachne was a true narcissist, she would have never associated with a nobody in such ways.

It is surprising how even after all these years, the ghost of the past can still haunt you.  The visit from the District 1 officials must have triggered such an act.

Love really is the sweetest poison.

“No matter.”  Coriolanus dismisses the topic.  “I refuse to spend another second thinking about a man who dared to hurt my wife.”

You smile as you close your eyes trying to get comfortable in his arms.

“I guess you owe me your life now.  I would expect more pampering as payment.”  You hum and he scoffs.

You ignore the fact that this makes you even after he saved you in District 4.  You will use every opportunity to exploit your dear husband.

“That is what you are concerned with?  You were just shot, wife.”  He spoke unimpressed but you squeezed his hand.

“I’ll get a nasty scar but I’ll live.  His aim was really bad.”

“I most definitely agree.”  Coriolanus nods a small grin in his lips.  “That worked in our favor though.”

It frightened Coriolanus.  The limit to your self sacrifice for him seems to be nonexistent.  He humbles himself and prays to the gods that this will not cause your end. 

You did not question when he pulls you closer.  His behavior is desperate as he burns the feel of your body against him in his head.

You spend the rest of the night talking to him until your eyes turn heavy, your breath syncing together peacefully.

Hunt for Glory

[xxrougefangxx]

Jason Todd x Reader fic recs

This is originally made for @marinas-trench , but anybody can use this. Will update as I find more

Added little notes in pink to specify some stuff

Anybody who does use these recs please make sure to reblog works- that's the Tumblr algorithm likes don't do anything- to help the authors out <3

-----

Authors because I can't pick a favorite work:

DC Masterlist by @sanguineterrain - The works speak for themselves.

@jasmines-library - Includes lots of platonic batfamily x reader and the hurt/comfort is just *chefs kiss*

@morverenmaybewrites Ao3 link- Her works are just godsend. She portrays Jason in such a beautiful way and acknowledges his trauma as well.

@minnieearsposts Ao3 Link - Jason works are 10/10, but she also has many other fics that connect with each other. Definitely recommend

@xxgoblin-dumplingxx - All of the au's are just magnificent! There's no master list but you can check the works out using tags.

Batfam masterlist by @book-place - All works are platonic

@writersfailure - Honestly a gold mine, check out their dc master list and other fics as well!

@wh1sp3rr - The jackpot at the end of the rainbow. That's all I'm going to say

Series :

love is not designed for the cynical by @thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels - The thoughts and emotions are portrayed SO BEAUTIFULLY!!! And while Jason is just spectacular, I also recommend the other series as well.

What we want by @sophiethewitch1 - It's with all the batboys

Crimson Red by @ravenna-reid - Has multiple parts all located on the master list.

Headcannons/Drabbles:

Girl!DadJason by @in-som-niyah

Reaction to you letting go of their hand by @gay-dorito-dust - Its paired up with both Dick and Damian

Existentional Crisis by @millyhelp

College student!Jason by @orchidsangel

BabyDaddy! Jason fic idea by @kuromitos

Fics:

JasonTodd x Fem!Reader by @spidernuggets - reader gets stuck in a time loop to save Jason

sickly sweet romance of u & jay by @wh1sp3rr

Unnamed by @millyhelp

tired and touchstarved!Jason by @indulgentdaydream

Guard Dog by @mostly-imagines

A Spoonful of Honey by @stararch4ngelqueen

Golden by @orionremastered

Reader who likes Superman more than Batman by @spidernuggets

Reader who prefers Superman more than batman (different fic than above) by @gay-dorito-dust

Rescuer by @kimberly-spirits13

graceless by @udiudijaye - platonic batfam x batsis but love the fic and had to recommend

Take care by @batsycline69

Forensic Psychologist Reader by @ravenna-reid

What are you doing here? by @a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all

What a night by @batboysandgirls

call me your fool by @jasonsmirrorball

18+ Works MDNI

Til Death Do We Part Brings Us Together by @luvf4ngz - I love the au idea!

Jason distracting you from studying by @millyhelp

Slumber Party by @dollwritesarchive - Includes Dick

Thoughts on Jason being rough by @midnightorchids

jason 'don't run from this dick' todd by @killakalx

BabyDaddy!Jason by @hanasnx

Say Sorry by @dancewithdeath11

Jason fucking reader in the Batmobile by @martiniluvr

Series 18+

guns and roses masterlist by @jayswhorex

[upsidedownwithsteve]

A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [5.9K]

THE TIMELINE

"Oh no, you know you know I'd be lying if I said I wasn't dying, For someone I could die for, someone I could try for Fall apart and cry for, go 'head, risk my life for."

-Someone I Could Die For by Lewis Capaldi

II. ROME, ITALY: 49 BC

The roar that came from the bowels of the Colosseum never became easier to hear. 

The noise seemed to make the city shake, the streets empty, the market stalls abandoned in favour of bloodshed. The games took place in the summer, when the skies were an endless blue and there were no clouds to tamper down the climbing heat. The sun bore down on the sandy pit of the enormous Amphitheatre and the seats were filled, the doors that had already been closed still surrounded by regretful stragglers who were forced to listen to the chaos from outside of the walls. 

Fourteen men had died already, three from the jaws of the lions, two from the bears and eleven from the swords of other imprisoned slaves. The cheering from the crowd made your stomach curl. The floor of the stage was covered in red, the sand streaked with spilled blood and the animals that were bullied back into their cages had their jaws tinted pink. 

It wasn’t a joyous occasion, no matter how many people celebrated in the name of their emperor. The leader of Rome was sitting mere seats away from you, dressed in ruby robes that were slung like a cloak over his white toga and his laurel crown glinted with golden beads that sat tucked into the olive wreaths. He was drunk on wine and violence, and your father sat next to him in the royal box, ever eager to please as he clinked his chalice against his kings. 

Being the daughter of Rome’s most beloved senator certainly had its positives. You were dressed just as finely as the royalty around you, the fabric that was made to fit your frame swept to the floor and only yesterday, the emperor’s cousin had gifted you a necklace made of the finest gold, inset with glittering emeralds, pretty enough for a princess. 

The same cousin smiled at you from across the row, each seat in the royal box made from plush velvet, the high backs ornate and cushioned, unlike the stone carved benches the rest of the civilians were sitting on. You smile back, uneasy but polite, and your father nodded approvingly. 

You were expected to marry, you knew that much. You were already considered too old to be unwed and you knew the rest of the court whispered about how you would now struggle to bear a child. But the man that was expected to be your husband wasn’t who you loved. He wasn’t unkind, he wasn’t cruel - not like you’d heard men could be. The girls in the kitchen would tell you stories of how their husband made demands. Shouting each night for their meals, their baths, how their shirts weren’t stitched right, how their beds would lay cold because their wives were too tired. 

Some men visited the bath houses, you knew that much. Seeking out a lupa for the night, the ladies that were called she-wolves, with their painted lips and robes that showed so much skin. Some men decided that they didn’t need to listen to their wives at all, you were once told, horror etched on your face. Some men took what they thought they owned. 

So no, the emperor’s cousin seemed kind enough. But you weren’t in love with him. You weren’t sure who you were in love with. A dream, perhaps. One that kept returning to you from a young, young age. A dream about a different town, one you’d never been to before. But in your sleep, it felt like home. White buildings and green gardens with tall, tall trees and pretty, ornate gazebos made of stone on the edges of shallow ponds. You were by the sea there, a blue-green ocean that seemed so calm. 

Sometimes monsters came, the marble statues that guarded the city came to life and turned your dream into a nightmare. There was always fire and fury, storm clouds and too big waves and a man with skin the colour of death would try and take your hand. But even when the dream turned bad, there was  always someone else.  

A man, with a blurry face and a mess of almost too long hair. It hid his eyes from you and you could never make out too many details but you burned when you looked at him, you could weep when he touched you. Sometimes he led you through the burning town, his hand clasping your own as you both tried to run and run and run. 

Other times, you lay in a bed with him, skin bare and your head on his chest as he murmured the sweetest poetry to you, words that made your heart race. Your dream was encased in white linen sheets, a hazy, soft light that always made it look like early morning and when the man’s lips met yours, you always woke up. 

Him. You loved him. 

You hadn’t been in love before, but whenever you dreamed of the stranger, you were sure that must have been what love felt like. 

“Have some grapes, darling,” your thoughts were interrupted by your father as he thrust a plate of fruit and cheese under your nose. 

But the fifteenth gladiator was being dragged through the gates by the armpits, a clawed hammer still sticking out from his chest and your insides turned over at the idea of eating such sweet treats as blood poured from the men in front of you. The emperor’s box was almost nauseatingly close to the fights. 

You shook your head before you remembered your manners, smiling politely and murmuring, “I’m quite alright, thank you.” You blew out a breath, shaky and faint. 

From your other side, one of the young girls who had been gifted to you on your sixteenth birthday waved a giant fan. A large peacock feather, a huge plume of colours that merely wafted the too warm air back and forth but you smiled your thanks at your lady in waiting, a pretty girl who’d turned into a prettier young woman. She was small and lithe, angular in the face with curls that came to her sharp jawbone and she smiled back. 

Nancy, as she’d introduced herself to you a week after she’d arrived at your fathers house, from the Wheeler family of Liguria. She didn’t like the gladiator fights anymore than you did, always murmuring about the rights of the animals and how inhumane it was later in the night as she drew you your bath. 

“—from Verona,” your father was saying with a mouth full of provolone. “One of their best, so they say, His Majesty simply had to have him.”

You blinked, frowning in confusion at your fathers words. You hadn’t been paying attention in the slightest and nothing you’d caught made any sense. “Sorry?” You grimaced apologetically and took a few pomegranate seeds from the plate of food in apology for your rudeness. “Who is from Verona?”

Your father rolled his eyes, a sure sign that you’d be lectured in his study later for your lack of respect. “The next gladiator, child.” He gestured to the stage where the soldiers were locking the gates to the tigers, each big cat growling with menace when the men came too close to the bars. “They say he’s unbeatable. Our Highness offered a more than generous helping of coin for his papers but Verona’s general didn’t seem to want to part with him.”    

You frowned again. The crowd seemed to be aware of this man and his presence, murmuring and shifting in their seats in anticipation. “If that is the case,” you prodded. “Then how is he here? If the gladiators… owner—” the word left a terribly bitter taste in your mouth and you felt heavy with guilt when Nancy’s fan brushed your shoulder. “If his owner didn’t want to sell him?”

Your father snorted, an unattractive sound that made Nancy wince beside you. “No one tells the emperor of Rome ‘no’, dearest.” Your father shrugged. “The gladiator cannot be owned, if his owner is dead.”

Bloodshed. Always bloodshed. 

A man came from the east side gates with chains around his ankles and wrists. You couldn’t quite see him for your seat, not yet, but the crowd above and around you roared, eager for the final fight to begin. The man already looked beaten and tired as soldiers stepped forward to unlock his manacles and you sat forward in your seat for the first time since you entered the Colosseum that day. 

He had messy hair, dark brown and hanging just past his chin. It was already damp looking, matted and dirty from being kept god knows where as the emperor's new toy. He was shirtless, his body lean but corded with muscle. He had wide shoulders and a lithe waist, powerful thighs and skin that was tanned from the sun, a sure sign he spent too much time outside, training hard in the Italian heat. 

As he moved closer to the middle of the stage, you saw the marks on his body, leftover scars and new slices in his flesh that still looked viciously red. The crowd got louder as a sword was thrown at his feet, a large, heavy looking thing with a bronze handle. Some cheered for the new warrior, hoping for some excitement, while others jeered and booed, already too attached to their darling reigning champion. 

The gladiator picked up his sword and the crowd became wilder still, but he gave them no mind. He didn’t put on a show like some of the others, he didn’t flex his muscles or raise his weapon like it was already a prize. His leather loincloth was a deep wine colour, the tan leather pleats looking far from newly made and the material was already streaked with blood and dirt before his first opponent arrived. 

Your heart felt heavy for him, as it did for all the others who were forced into the Colosseum - prisoners, slaves and animals alike. You watched the gladiator flex his wrist, testing the weight of his weapon just as the gates in the west cranked open. 

Rome’s current champion strode out from the shadows and into the bright sun, his bare chest glinting with sweat and Hargrove held his hands aloft, grinning as the crowds went insane. He beat his chest, his long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and when he was handed his own sword, he wasted no time in running towards the new fighter, the steel blade glinting. 

You gasped, moving closer still to the edge of your seat and you couldn’t find it in you to bear much mind to the looks your father and Nancy shot you. It wasn’t like you to take such an interest in the sport, never mind be so heavily invested. You didn’t like to watch the wounded, preferring to close your eyes when the screams began, hiding cowardly behind Nancy’s fan when the blood turned the sandy stage pink and red. 

But this new gladiator, he was fast. 

He dove at the last second, dodging the tip of Hargrove’s blade and he rolled towards the section where you sat. Dust kicked up from the move, his sword tearing into the wreaths and sashes that hung from the Emperor’s box. You grasped the edge of the wooden frame, peering over the side and down to the stage, hoping to not see blood already. 

Instead you found the gladiator looking back up at you, his sword still in his grasp and when his eyes met yours, they widened. Something like recognition hurtled through you, a feeling that sucked the breath from your lungs and you felt dizzy, like lightning itself had struck you from the sky. You thought the man perhaps felt the same, a frown on his face telling you that he felt just as confused as you did. 

But before you could consider where on earth you could have possibly seen his face before, Hargrove attacked again, bringing his blade down to where the gladiator's shoulder should have been, if he hadn’t rolled once again. 

You were on your feet now, the stares of your father be damned. Your eyes were wide, your heart beating far too fast, like you yourself were on the stage, being hunted for sport. Wood splintered into the space under your nails as you watched the man run, his muscles pumping, his eyes narrowed. 

“Darling, are you quite alright?” Your father placed a hand on your arm, more confused than concerned. 

“Yes, I just— yes.” You cleared your throat and sat down again, albeit back to the edge of your chair. You could feel the rest of the royal party staring at you. “Where did you say the man was brought from? The new gladiator?”

“Harrington?” One of the Emperor’s councilmen interjected. He pointed a pudgy finger at the brown haired gladiator, who was now swinging his sword with as much power as Hargrove. “Steven Harrington of Verona, best of his breed I heard. His general didn’t take too kindly to the King’s offering and well— you know what happens when his Highness is made to feel upset.”

The metallic clink of the swords filled the arena as everyone held their breaths. Not many had lasted this long against Hargrove before. 

“Rumour has it that he didn’t take too kindly to his general being beheaded. Took six men to get him into the back of the cart, even more to make him train. He’s been refusing food all week.”

The idea of it made you feel unwell, a sickly, creeping kind of pain curling around each of your ribs and suddenly you were starving, just as much as you were sure the man would be. But still, I didn’t seem to make him move any slower, it didn’t hinder him in bringing his sword down any harder. 

But strangely, every time the new gladiator was struck, every time his knees hit the raw sand, every time he got close enough for you to see him suck in a gasping breath— you felt it too. 

It was a battle like you’d never seen before, more vicious than the others from that day, a showdown under the blazing heat of the high sun. No tiger seemed as powerful as Steven Harrington of Verona did. There was something animalistic in the way he moved, all power and lean muscle, a steely glint in his brown eyes that you didn’t dare look away from. He moved too quickly for Hargrove’s blade, dodging and diving as he flung up sand, blinding his opponent and slicing at his legs. Each move was a blur, the stage bleeding with fresh red, the blonde gladiator on his knees. 

But Hargrove was ruthless, grappling with the newcomer until they were both wrestling in the dust cloud and the crowd went insane, people chanted and stomped their feet, the amphitheatre shaking down to its very bones. The imperial box quaked with the energy, but truly, you weren’t present enough to feel it. 

Your eyes never left Steven’s fighting figure. 

The swords seemed to be forgotten, the steel blades rusted with blood, both fresh and new, and they lay in the sand. Fists flew, knees pressed to chests to keep the other down and it was brutal, it was harsh, it was deadly. 

You wanted to vomit. You feared you might. 

You wondered what would happen if you leapt from your chair, if you let your skirts get torn and bloodied in the mess of the stage, if you threw yourself down onto the sand and begged for Hargrove to take his hands away from the new gladiator's throat. 

Would you be punished? Beaten? Locked away? Killed?

You weren’t sure but somehow, all the options felt worth it. You couldn’t watch this man die before you. Not when it felt like you’d already witnessed his death before. 

But Steven wrestled himself out of Hargrove’s hold, twisting and tumbling whilst he gasped, one hand clutching at his reddened neck and the other grappling for his blade. He swung it through the air, arching wide, his wounded shoulder ripping with effort it took but the sword landed where the warrior intended it to. 

Silence settled over the colosseum, the air still enough for you to hear the surviving champion heave out gasping, heavy breaths. There was blood on his hands, his chest, his face. 

His right eye was already bruising, red and lilac coming to the surface of his skin like fresh blooms in spring. His shoulder was a mess, his right leg causing him to buckle slightly as he rose to his feet.  

The man turned, jaw slack, his sword falling limply to the ground once more, his opponent still and at his feet. His eyes found yours and time stilled, at least, to you. The crowd erupted, an explosion in its own right, the entirety of Rome cheering for their new champion. 

A man you were sure you already loved. 

By the time the fight had ended, you felt beaten and bruised. There were no marks on your skin, no blood seeping through your gown, but something inside of you hurt all the same. It felt like something was clawing at your heart, a memory that was banging on the front of your skull, screaming at you to remember. 

When the guards dragged the gladiator from Hargrove’s limp figure, he dropped his sword to the sand and spat a mouthful of blood towards the ground at the royal pit. The Emperor merely chuckled as others around you gasped and before you could even hear your fathers protests, you were on your feet. 

Steven Harrington was shackled once more, the metal chains clinking around his hands and feet. And as he was led away back into the arches, the gears of gates making an awful protesting noise, his eyes found yours once more. 

A burning gaze, too intense to look away from and you could’ve sworn on the gods, on the stars above, that something inside of you tugged sharply. Like the pull of a string, tied in a bow between your ribcage, urging you forward. 

Telling you to go. 

So you did. 

You gathered your skirts in your hands and made your way to the exit of the box, too focused to hear your fathers objections until the guards at the doorway halted you with their spears. The wooden stalks crossed themselves over your chest and you froze, the string tied to your heart pulling tighter and tighter and tighter— 

The Emperor was staring at you, with cold eyes and a smile that wasn’t really a smile. He spoke to your father, not you. “Where, my dear senator, is your lovely daughter running off to?” The king turned back to you, brows raised. “Doesn’t she know that more wine will be served soon? My cousin is looking forward to her company.”

Your father stared at you, a stricken expression on his aged face because everyone in the royal box could read between the lines of the Emperor. 

You cleared your throat, eyes still trained on the sharp metal points of the spears that were very much in your face. “Forgive me, father - your highness - I was merely hoping to get some fresh air.”

“The sight of all that blood makes her rather delicate,” your father agreed and the crowd of councilmen, generals and their wives tittered in their jewels. “She isn’t one for conflict.”

The Emperor stared at the side of your face, something you could feel despite bowing your head in his presence. You stared at the floor and waited, heart racing. 

The royal tsked. “What a pity,” he declared but he waved a hand, each finger heavy with golden rings, and his soldiers stepped aside. “Be back in time for the parade, child, you have company to entertain.”

The Emperor’s cousin leered at you, his wine glass empty, his lips stained ruby but none of it mattered right now, not when you were taking off once more, skirts dragging across the dust and sand, your chest heaving as you tried to navigate your way through the crowd that was already dispersing. 

More guards, heavily armoured and with their swords drawn, were too preoccupied with a fight that had broken out between the arches, two lower class men arguing over a coin they found on the ground. Taking your chance, you moved with your head down, your face hidden as you slipped through a door that was normally carefully watched. 

The heavy wood slammed shut behind you, the sunlight swallowed whole. Burning torches lit the narrow corridor, a maze of them leading you underneath the Colosseum. The hypogeum was almost damp as you tried to navigate its many walkways, a gasp leaving your throat as you took a wrong turn and ended up face to face with the iron bars that separated you from the animals. 

A huge tiger growled at you, bloodied teeth bared in a snarl, the stench of raw meat and faeces hanging in the cool air. You backed away, eyes flickering from cage to cage, each one filled with another poor creature. Lions, bears, a rhinoceros and its offspring, and beyond them, an even larger cell holding prisoners. They all stared at you, men and animals alike, but nothing was spoken. 

You backed away, unable to breath, turning on your heel and walking quickly enough to spot the familiar grey robes of the healers used after the battles. You followed, your steps light, and watched him enter a small room. Between the door opening and closing, you spotted the gladiator perched on a wooden table, his head bent low and his face hidden behind his damp hair. 

You weren’t sure what possessed you, but before you barged into the room too, both men staring at you from the table where the healer held a ragged cloth to the gladiator’s shoulder. 

“Miss, you have no need here,” the healer announced, his voice strict and cold. He narrowed his eyes as he gestured to the door. “This is no place for—”

“My father sent me.” It was a lie, of course. A bold and bare faced one at that. But you stood a little taller and lifted your chin, the emerald necklace at your throat shining in the low light that came from the small fireplace in the corner. “The senate has questions I’ve been asked to deliver. I shall not leave without the appropriate answers.”

On the mantle, beside bottles of acids and other medicinal vials, sat a small statue of the goddess Veratis. Her marble eyes seemed to judge you and your lies and you swallowed down the bitter taste it left on your tongue. But looking at the man - this stranger from Verona - the need to speak to him, to be alone with him, was overwhelming you to the point of senselessness.  

The trouble you could be in if you were to be caught in your lie… or worse, down in the hypogeum. This was no place for a woman of your standing, never mind to be alone with a gladiator, both of you unspoken for. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat. 

“If we may have some time alone?” You added with more authority than you should have held. “Unless you’d prefer that my father leave the Emperor’s side to ensure his orders are fulfilled?”

The healer sighed but placed down his tools. He flashed you a smile that was all crooked teeth, more bite than kindness, but he made his way to the door. “That won’t be necessary, My Lady,” he told you and he left, closing the wooden door behind him. 

The silence was a deafening thing. The crackle of the fire was still there, the distant roar of some poor, wounded animal, but whatever was held between the two of you took on a life of its own. It seemed to suck the rest of the world into it until there was nothing left but you and this man. He was staring at you still, brown eyes wide and so familiar, looking as confused as you felt as you stared right back. 

It felt too easy to take a step forward, but the warrior flinched. Your next was slower, softer, more cautious. Your hand found the rag that the healer had once held, what little water it had been soaked in was cold, the material harsh. It didn’t take you long to find a new cloth in one of the drawers of the apothecary table and you took your time to warm some fresh water over the hearth. 

Honestly, you didn’t know too much about medicine, only the basics that your father’s head servant had taught you as a young child. You found the small bottle of alcohol with ease, plucking it from the shelf and adding it to the warm water before soaking the new rag. 

You held it up in offering to the man, still far enough from you that his dirty hair hid most of his face. His tanned chest was streaked with sweat and dust, marred with old cuts and fresher wounds from Hargrove’s weapon, but for the most part, he seemed okay. 

“Can I?”

The gladiator lifted his head then, his hair falling away from his cheeks and you took in a sharp breath at the sight of his face. He was handsome, painstakingly so, but over and above all else, he was someone you were sure you knew. 

The man nodded, just once, lips pressed together and as you came closer, his nostrils flared and his large hands gripped the edge of the table. His eyes raced across your features, recognition coming to the surface and before he could ask the questions that were clawing at his throat, you lifted the cloth and pressed it to the cut on his shoulder. 

He hissed, teeth bared and you frowned, hushing him softly, apologies murmured just as quiet. “I’m sorry,” you told him and gods, he knew you meant it. “I need the alcohol to soak the wound.”

Your heart stuttered when he let you, shoulders tight and back ramrod straight, but his eyes were on your face the entire time you worked. “You’re not a healer,” he said. It wasn’t a question. 

His voice rung through you, a deep timber that was hoarse and scratchy, no doubt from refusing to speak since his capture. You hoped he’d been drinking enough water. 

You shook your head as you pulled away, dipping the bloodied cloth back into the bucket. “No, I’m not,” you confirmed. 

Another swipe at his skin had him jerking in response but the blood and dirt was finally clear of the cut. It would need stitches, you were almost sure of it, but your skills started and finished at the basics. 

“Then why are you here?” The gladiator’s eyes were trained on your necklace, a sure fire way to recognise nobility and you were overcome with the urge to rip it from your throat. “Why did you follow me?” He spoke like he already knew the answer. 

You were hesitant about it, but you couldn’t stop your hand from lifting to his neck, fingertips brushing two beauty marks on his skin. They felt electric under your touch and you were impossibly warmer now, despite the old cell lacking the heat from the summer above. 

“I feel like I know you,” you whispered. Your voice cracked with an emotion you didn’t quite know the name of. “I feel like I’ve mourned you.”  

The gladiator looked back at you from behind his damp hair, the long strands matted with his and his enemies blood. He didn’t look as concerned as he should have been at your strange words. In fact, he leaned into your touch, lashes fluttering at the sensation. 

“What an odd thing to say to someone who hasn’t died,” he answered quietly. But his gaze roamed over your features and something about being so close to him felt cosmic, it felt like a catastrophe waiting to happen. “I think I’ve met you before,” the gladiator whispered. He sounded reverent now, his own hand shaking as he brought it to your face. 

He cupped your jaw, your chin, his rough fingertips trailing over your soft skin and when his thumb dragged across your bottom lip, you gasped and pressed closer. 

“I think I meet you when I sleep,” he said and he frowned at his own words, at how confusing he must’ve sounded. “Every night, when I close my eyes. You’re in a garden and then you’re in my arms.”

Flashes of a bed came to mind, white linen sheets and too much bare skin. A man’s chest, tanned and muscled from hard labour, your hands that roamed the expanse of his back. You remembered how he kissed you in your dreams, with a longing so intense it could waken the gods. 

Like he had enough love for you that he could end the world. 

You could only nod. His thumb was still pushed to your bottom lip, your mouth parted as if you were waiting and his stare was so intense you felt warmer than you had in the stadium above. 

Who was this stranger?

And why did it feel like something inside of you was being stitched back together by the sheer sight of him? His touch felt healing, it felt like home. Like it was only made for you to feel. Like he was made only for you. 

Above, something boomed. Loud enough to be heard underneath the hypogeum, over the roars of the unsettled animals. If you had been outside, you would’ve witnessed the blue sky turning grey, shades of moody lavender and navy, storm clouds rolling across Rome from seemingly nowhere. 

Thunder rumbled,  threatening noise, something that made you and the man move closer to each other, like you both knew you were in danger. 

That you knew something bad was coming. 

“I don’t understand,” you said, eyes blurring. You weren’t sure why you were crying but Steve didn’t seem to question it. He merely swiped away the tears that slipped down your cheeks. “You’re a stranger— we’ve never— we’ve never met.”

Despite your words, the gladiator moved closer, standing from his seat on the wooden table to lean his forehead against your own. Your eyes slipped closed, nose bumping his. He smelled like metal, like blood and dirt and sweat but underneath there was something like fire there, like molten iron, like lavender fields and fresh cotton. Like a daydream, like something you weren’t sure was real. 

His bottom lip touched your top one, only just, only barely. A whisper of a kiss, a small insight of something that could’ve been, of something that maybe once was. 

Thunder rolled again, louder than before, as if it was right above you both. Even over the din of the crowds above, you could hear the heavy patter of rain that was now flooding the colosseum, the stage soaked. Another warning, something you’d seen before in a dream just before it turned to a nightmare. 

“I was meant to find you,” Steve murmured. He had your face cradled in his hands, an overwhelmingly gentle touch despite the dried blood under his fingernails. His voice grew in urgency then, like he knew something was coming. Someone. “I was meant to come here. I can feel it. I understand now.”

“Someone once told me you’d come back,” you suddenly remembered, your voice eager, your eyes wide at the memory. “I don’t know— was it you? From before? From—”

From another life, you wanted to say. 

How ridiculous those words were, how silly, how stupid. But there wasn’t any other way to explain. Logic didn’t seem to exist when everything you felt from this touch of this stranger led you to believe that somehow, someway, you’d spend a lifetime together. 

Like you were supposed to spend this one with him too. And it didn’t seem long enough, decades wouldn’t make up for the time you’d lost searching for him, for this stranger who only came to you in your sleep. But he was very real now, solid flesh and bone underneath your own hands, brown eyes that seemed warmer than the Italian summer. 

You didn’t want to let him go. 

“In here, my King,” a voice interrupted. The door was open and the healer had returned, a cold look on his already stern face. The Emperor was behind him, ruby robes collecting dirt from the old floor. Four soldiers flanked him. “I have every reason to believe the Lady sold me lies, Your Highness.”  

It happened too quick. Too fast. 

The Emperor studied you, Steve’s hands still on your face as you stood too close, ready to kiss, ready to fulfil something neither of you were sure of. It felt catalytic. 

“Seize him,” was all the Emperor said, one lazy flick of his wrist sending all four guards at you both. 

There was too much movement in the tiny room, bottles of medicinal wares clattering to the ground and smashing at your feet. The table groaned as Steve was shoved into it, his own reactions too slow from his injuries. He grunted and reached for you too late, his hand slipping from your own, fingers barely touching, as he was shoved at from either side. 

One soldier shoved the butt of his sword into Steve’s wounded soldier, the other bringing his armoured knee into his bare stomach. The gladiator doubled over, a gasp leaving his chest before he fell to his knees on the stone floor. 

“Stop this!” You yelled, urging forward, trying your best to throw yourself into the mix of it all but someone’s arms - another soldier - caught your round the middle. “Unhand him! Your Highness - please - he hasn’t done any wrong, please—”

The Emperor just looked at you blankly before he picked at the jewels around your neck. He tutted, as if it were a shame, a waste. You could hear the shackles being placed back on the man, the low groan he gave as the metal was tightened around his sore wrists. 

“He won,” you whispered, your voice low and choked. You were ready to beg. “Please, he won. He doesn’t deserve this—”

“I don’t like anyone else playing with my toys,” the Emperor interrupted. He said it like he was discussing what to have for lunch. “And my dear cousin doesn’t like anyone playing with his.” He motioned to the guards once more. “Take her back to her seat, where you make sure she stays. This isn’t any place for a Lady,” he told you mournfully.

You didn’t get to see what happened to the gladiator as you were escorted out of the room. But you did hear his yells when the door slammed shut, the dull thuds of impact that you were sure were on his already bruised and broken body. You hadn’t even told him your name, or that you dreamt of him too. That during your worst night terrors, he was the one that saved you. 

When you reached the imperial box once more, your skirts dirtied from the sand, your face tear stricken, you felt broken. Like you’d been snapped in half, like someone had found that wound Steve had stitched up and pulled it apart again the seams. Like someone had ripped something important from you, half of your heart, perhaps. 

You didn’t even notice that it had stopped raining. The skies were blue once more, the sun shining, the only evidence of the sudden storm were the drops of rain that had soaked into the pillow on your chair. 

Steve was gone and the thunder was too. 

[sei-cookie]

yo yo @brittle-doughie skin ideas-

(Y/N) Cookie skin: "Real Royal" (based off the profile title :P) Description: The beloved ruler of the Cookie Kingdom who rules with a tender heart that earns the respect of the cookies in their kingdom. Cookies adore her as their king/queen!

White Lily Cookie skin: "Their Majesty's Advisor" Description: The mysterious advisor of king/queen (Y/N) Cookie. She's the reason their majesty tends to bear the scent of lilies from time-to-time from how much she hovers around them. Although... sometimes she treats them more of a deity than a king/queen.

Pure Vanilla Cookie skin: "The Royal Healer" Description: The cookie in-charge of making sure their majesty is healthy and safe! But, sometimes Pure Vanilla Cookie takes his role too seriously and constantly stresses himself sick about their majesty's wall being.

Hollyberry Cookie skin: "Shield of the King/Queen" Description: One of king/queen (Y/N) Cookie's royal bodyguards. She is responsible for making sure no harm is ever brought to the beloved ruler. With her shield in hand, no scratch will ever befall their majesty's dough! She makes sure of it.

Dark Cacao Cookie skin: "Blade of the King/Queen" Description: He is the one who leads their majesty's royal guards and trains them to be able to give their lives for the safety of the king/queen. Royal guards fear yet respect him for his extremely harsh training all to make sure they are equipped to serve the king/queen.

Golden Cheese Cookie skin: "The Kingdom's Messenger" Description: The cookie who delivers messengers to and for their majesty. She prides herself for her role and drowns in each praise their majesty gives them as if they were gold, fuelling her dedication for each message she will need to deliver for their majesty.

[shapard]

Feather of Fate🕊️

Lucifer x Seraphim!fem!reader

Soulmate arc

You're eating breakfast peaceful (are you?) and Heaven is a big mess

In pieces

Chapter 1 < Chapter 2> Chapter 3

Heaven was a big mess. 

Nothing new. 

Since you’re gone Emily feels all the pressure that was on you. All your responsibility was handed to her like a silver tablet with no refund. 

It was exhausting. And it didn’t help that Sera was also a big mess. 

She never left Emily’s side, almost like a guard dog. 

She lost her daughter because of her dirty little lies. And is scared that Emily would leave her too.

The arch angels aren’t pleased for her doing. She’s not God.

Her Image now like a Hurricanes aftermath.

No one wants to deal with her not even her own daughter Emily. 

Emily was very distant towards Sera. She doesn’t want to be near her, not after what she has done.

Your Mother sent Emily away when you fell. 

She couldn’t be there for you. She wasn’t there when the most painful thing happened to you. 

She felt ashamed, like a failure. 

You always protect her from the vicious laws of heaven. Sometimes even taking her punishments to protect her. 

And when you needed her the most, she wasn’t there. 

She can’t deny that it’s probably her fault that you fell. Taking all her misleads and getting you into trouble after trouble.

So that she can be safe. 

Talking back towards Sera in the court was the final straw. 

Sera could’ve talked to them, but she didn’t. 

She agreed because of her Image. 

To Sera’s surprise, the upper angels weren’t Impressed.

It didn't help at all.

Not even the winners want to talk with her anymore.

…

Lucifer couldn’t believe his eyes. 

You were awake! 

But not in the state he’d hoped. You were covered in your own blood and the floor was all a mess.  Ceramic was soaked in with the golden color of your blood. 

“What happened?” You didn’t answer. 

Somehow, he knew you wouldn’t answer. Falling from heaven can be quite traumatizing. He talks out of experience.

You couldn’t even keep your wings like he did, the pain must be unbearable. You were definitely not used having no wings anymore. 

You were hiding behind a Blanket, Lucifer found it quite cute and adorable how you were hiding from him. 

But it also hurt him.

Ache.

“Are you hurt?” Lucifer asked you, not wanting to scare you away. You slowly peaked above the blanket. You have to say he is quite handsome. 

“I don’t know if I can trust you.” 

The handsome man looked at you and sighed. “I helped you when you fell out of heaven. You’ve been out for a couple of days. I can help you, please let me help.” 

“Why?” Your mere whispers made his heart squeeze. 

He couldn’t find an answer to your question. 

Was he helping you because he knows how it is? 

To get thrown out of your home, getting ripped apart from the elders. Family not even sparing a glance at you. But there was something else why, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I know how you feel, let me help you.” You nod, you don’t have anything to lose. 

You already fell from heaven and live now in hell. Getting thrown right infront of the bus. 

Letting the Blanket fall from your back showing the man your fresh back wound. 

“Again, the back?” He chuckled, “By the way, the name’s Lucifer.” The name rang in your ear. “The Lucifer?” your voice is kind of soar. 

He snapped his fingers and with a sparkling sound a cup of water formed infront of you. Muttering a small thanks, you grabbed the cup pf water and let it slide down your throat. You hummed in approval. 

“I’m Y/n.” His hands hover over your back and he pulled the ceramic pieces slowly out of your back.

“That’s a beautiful name, Y/n.” Your name out of his mouth felt like sweet caramel. You wanted him to say your name again and again.

You smiled a bit and winced at him removing the splinters. After he pulled the last pieces out, he hovered his hand again over your back.

This time his hands started to glow in gold. His hands radiant heat, it was like a warm summer breeze. 

After a while the feeling stopped, you turned around to take a look at Lucifer. 

“You’re Lucifer?” He nods but didn’t look you in the eyes, he felt ashamed somehow. “Indeed I am.” He finally looks back at you and you beamed a smile at him. 

“You don’t look creepy at all.” That surprised him and he blushed slightly at your sudden forwardness. 

“You should rest. We’re going to talk tomorrow.” He patted your head and walked towards the exit. Giving you a final smile, he went back to his couch. 

You sighed and laid down on the lightly soaked blooded mattress. “I should at least try to sleep.”

…

You didn’t sleep well that night. 

Your back was still hurting even after the treatment Lucifer gave you. 

The blood still sticked on your skin making it quite uncomfortable to stand up. You have to take a shower.

The red Sun lighted the room red. A quick reminder that you indeed are in hell. In comparison to heaven was Hell rather cozy. It was warm and more colorful, even though the colors are very vibrant or dark. 

It was exciting. 

It’s been so long since you felt that kind of Emotions. 

Everything in heaven was the same. You must do the same and be like everyone else. You have to work 24/7, and work 9 to 5 or even worse. Not even a single break, not even for you a Seraphim. 

You worked over night almost every day for your Mother Sera. It pained you when you saw her chilling the while day and Emily flying and playing around heaven. It is your responsibility as the bigger Sister. 

Well, was to be exact.

A knock echoed through the silent chamber making you snap out of your thoughts.

A couple seconds later Lucifer came through the door. Peering inside to see if you’re awake.

“I made you some pancakes.” Lucifer nudges his sharp clawed finger into the direction of the kitchen. 

On a table you see a plate with pancakes, Ice cream and a cup of hot chocolate. He sat down on the mattress. 

His pants started to soak in the semi fresh golden blood. He shrieked and sat up looking at his pants. 

“Are you still bleeding?” He franticly searched for any Injuries on your back. “I’m fine. It’s just the blood that spilled on the bed. Sorry for that.” He let out a sigh of relief, “Let me change the Mattress.” 

He held out a hand for you to take. With hesitation you took his clawed hand. With a pull he pushed you upwards, you gasp at how fast he was moving you. 

Your legs felt like jelly, your head started to spin, and it started to get dizzy. He held you tight before you could fell. “I got you.”

Without any second thought Lucifer carried you towards the kitchen. Your cheeks redden at this behavior. 

His touch was striking you like a lightning bolt. It was a warm comforting feeling. His Arm around your waist left a tingling almost sparkling feeling. The feeling almost made you smile like a fool. 

“Thanks.” It was a mere whisper, but Lucifer heard it very clear. The weird feeling on his arm was distracting him immense, though your voice brought him back out of his thoughts. And he smiled.

Lucifer realized how long he was actually holding your waist. Retrieving his Arm rather quickly he coughed out of distraction.  “Just sit over there.”

“Lucifer?” He hummed and looked at you, the way he chewed the food made you giggle slightly.

You smelled pretty bad. You didn’t want to ask him if you could take a shower, but you have to take a shower. His gentle gaze took your worries away and made her ten times more nervous. 

“Can I take a shower?” Lucifer nods hesitant. “Of course, you can.” He laid down his food and took your hands and walked slowly towards his bathroom. 

… Time skip…

The Shower was very relaxing, even though it was kind of creepy to know that Lucifer was waiting behind the door. 

The food was hellish good, heaven could never. 

In heaven it all tasted the same, very blunt and no emotions in it.  

Lucifer took your plate and cramped his sleeves up to wash your plate. You followed his swift movements and how smooth he washes them. 

It amazed you somehow, washing dishes isn’t something Interesting but how he washes them is just different. 

Then you saw it, his mark. Suspicious Identical like yours. Please no. 

Somewhere in Heaven:

Sera sat Infront of a U-shaped table looking up at none other than the arch Angels themselves. “Sera.” A rather deep voice said making her jolt in her seat.

“Michael.”

A/n: I know this chapter is kind of boring but trust me. It’s going to be good.

[lxkeee]

⋆.˚ ⭒˚FLY ME TO THE MOON ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚

—part two

pairing: lucifer morningstar x fem! archangel raphael! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: friends to enemies, so it's angsty

notes: hehehehe idk yeah, this is now a series of sort 🤯 also, eat well simps /affectionate. I'll be basing off the seven virtues' appearance off from esbellesantos' Fanart but I wouldn't like fully follow their headcanon personality and make a different personality for them.

Part One | Part Three | THE SEVEN VIRTUES

So many years have passed after Lucifer's trial, during those years [y/n]'s gigantic and majestic wings finally grew. Three pairs of majestic wings now prodding on her back, a golden halo on top of her head. The [y/n] that was just a background character has now risen up the ranks, God seeing her potential and granted her the title of archangel, now one of the seven virtues of heaven.

[y/n] who was once upbeat and cheerful has now grown cold and mature as she took the responsibility god has placed upon her shoulders. Heart closed to other immortal beings but opened to the mortal ones.

She rules a specific area of the skies, as the seven virtues are tasked to watch their own territory and to make sure to maintain peace and order with the heavenly beings.

She sat on the chair just by her balcony, a small table in front of her. A cup of steaming coffee on the table as she read a newspaper containing some daily heavenly news. A gold wedding ring on her ring finger. She stared at the bright, white, and blue scenery outside her home. Clouds all over the place, other lower ranked angels flying around.

She lives in a huge mansion by herself despite being married.

“Darling I am here~!” a male spoke as the sound of the door to the living room was slammed open. Speaking of her husband, familiar footsteps tapping on the pristine white and gold marbled tiles as the person arrived to the balcony of the living room.

“Azrael, to what do I owe you the pleasure?” [y/n] asked, gently placing back down her coffee cup on to the table. Tilting her head to look at her husband. Tall, slender, mischievous.

Don't get her wrong, she and Azrael don't like each other romantically but they are more on platonic. They only got married... Well... Because of boredom and they did promised each other to marry each other if they remained single even when they've reached a certain age. They promised to divorce each other if they find the one that is right for them. Despite their odd friendship, the two trust each other a lot. Azrael was one being there for her when Lucifer fell from grace.

“I just have some news to share with you, I think this will catch your interest dear.” Azrael winked at her, leaning against his black staff. Eyes half lidded as he awaited for her reaction.

[y/n]'s eyes stopped moving along the words of the paper she was reading, tilting her head to look at the taller angel with curiosity, eyebrow raised. “Really now? Tell me dearie.” she says with a smirk, lifting her coffee cup and bringing it to her lips.

“Lucifer apparently wants to have a meeting with heaven. He wanted to propose another idea of his.” Azrael says with a smirk, his smirk widening as he watched [y/n] choked on her drink.

She clears her throat, getting the caffeine out of her esophagus. The revelation brought back so many memories that it caught her off guard.

“I'm sorry, what did you say?” she asked again, eyes blinking. Having second thoughts whether she heard him wrong.

Azrael crosses his arms and smirks, “You heard me, he's coming up here to tell us about his plans for the wayward souls down there.”

“Really now?” [y/n] asked with a scoff, wiping her lips with a clean white cloth. She lost her hope in humanity, she believes that the people who didn't properly use the free will gifted to them by Lucifer, shouldn't be given another chance as they wasted that opportunity to live a good life.

“I doubt that the others would agree to whatever plan he has to show.” [y/n] says, sipping her coffee once more.

Azrael laughs, wiping a tear off his eye. “My, you used to agree with his views. To see you disregard his plans before even hearing is just too cruel, [y/n]” he says with a mischievous smile on his face, a sing-song tone in his voice.

“They got gifted free will and look what they have done with it. I believe those souls are better off staying down there and looking back at the times they could've done better.” [y/n] says coldly.

Azrael shrugs, the smirk never leaving his face.

“Well, I don't really care about mortal life that much considering I am the angel of death. My duty is to guide them to the afterlife.” he says, shrugging. Walking to the railings of the balcony and leans his back against it.

“Well, that's the only reason I came here. I have duties to attend to and the meeting will be happening in a few days. I'm sure it would be quite a lovely reunion with all eight of us.” Azrael says with a smirk, excited how the meeting will go with all seven virtues plus Lucifer in the same room. He can tell it would be tense and chaotic.

“Good luck in your work.” [y/n] says with a lazy shrug making the taller angel laugh.

“Adios~” he says before disappearing in a puff of sparkly black smoke.

Turning back to the world outside her home, dull [e/c] eyes looking over the blue horizon. She sighs, closing her eyes as she sighs.

“A meeting huh, it's been awhile since I've last seen him.” she mutters, eyes opening. Cold and calculative. “This should be interesting.”

Timeskip to a few days later...

Lucifer paced back and forth inside his room, a guest room heaven prepared for him. The meeting would happen in two hours and he is beyond nervous. It took so much time to convince them to listen to him but they finally agreed because he persisted.

He expected that it will be only Sera to judge his plans, the anxiety and fear he felt when Sera told him that the seven virtues themselves would grant him an audience to his plans for hell.

He doesn't know much about the seven virtues as it was only implemented a few years after his fall but he knew that it consists of powerful angels that kept the order and peace of heaven. He can list a few angels that are probably one of the seven virtues.

But despite all this, his heart has been aching. He's in heaven, he's standing on the same ground as [y/n]. He misses her, so goddamn much.

Did she miss him too? Probably not.

Remembering how bad their goodbye was, there wasn't any to begin with.

Lucifer sighs, patting up his dark pink suit to ease up the creases. Despite the years that have already gone by, [y/n] never left his heart. He never forgets, every detail of his world no matter how miniscule it is... He can't help but think, [y/n] would've loved this, this is her favorite color, her favorite food, and etc.

He loves Lilith but he also loves [y/n] (more even!) and he knows it's too late to admit that and he's afraid to admit to himself that... He may have made the wrong choice of ignoring her advances.

His gloved hands moved to his collar, adjusting it. “Don't think about her Lucifer, you have a meeting to do and this is for the sake of your people and family.” he says to himself. Taking deep breaths to calm his fast beating heart.

He is ready to propose his plan on making a hotel to redeem sinners.

The seven virtues of heaven sat in a u-shaped table, all seven virtues wearing a mask that hides their faces. In front of them stood a very nervous Lucifer.

Not a single one of them aside from Lucifer talked, they listened to him talk about his plans for hell.

It is a good plan but without proof, it is useless.

“With the hotel, I am sure sinners would find a way to redeem themselves and join you guys here in heaven.” Lucifer says, a nervous smile on his face as he ends his presentation. Standing in front of the seven virtues is a real nerve wrecking. He can sense the power emitting from each and every one of them. One wrong move and he's done for.

“The idea is cute and all but without evidence, this... This is completely useless.” Gabriel says, a bored tone in her voice as she lazily held the folder filled with the details of Lucifer's plan and letting it fall into the table with a loud thud.

Lucifer flinches from her remark and the sound of his hopes and dreams of his people hitting with a loud thud on the table from Gabriel's actions.

“I agree.” Michael says, removing his mask. A mischievous smile on his face. “Lucifer, you don't know what these mortal souls are capable of. How can you be so sure the hotel would work if you yourself aren't sure they wanted to redeem themselves in the first place?” Michael asked, voice filled with authority, eyebrows raised as he asked the question, looking down on his twin brother, Lucifer.

Lucifer flinches, starting to get nervous.

“Well... We wouldn't know if we'd tr—” he says but getting cut off.

“You've never seen the horrors and atrocities these mortal souls commit with their free will. War, corruption, death, murder, drugs... Anything you can name it. What makes you think these people would want to make themselves better?” Jophiel says, his voice shaking. A laugh escaping his lips as he remembers the horrors he's seen on earth, a mocking laughter.

“They're truly terrible, these souls don't have a place here in heaven.” Michael sneered.

Azrael just smirked as he watched the scene unfold, [y/n] keeping quiet beside him. His hand intertwined with hers to comfort her.

“But they're souls, human souls just the same with the one's up here in heaven.” Lucifer defended, clenching his fists.

“They are not the same, the souls here in heaven have earned it.” Camuel says with a smile, finally removing his own mask.

“Ugh, the work I have to do carrying each soul to their destination is quite tiring. Annoying even. Especially when a soul curses at me for bringing them to hell when they only have themselves to blame.” Azrael says with a groan, smirking as he removes his mask. Looking at Lucifer challengingly.

Lucifer's eyes widened at the cruelty of their words, six virtues now staring at him face-to-face, aside from one virtue who kept quiet.

“Well, each one of us already said our opinion aside from Raphael here... Or should I say, [y/n]? Do you have something to say?” Azrael says, a teasing smile on his face. [Y/n] glaring at Azrael as she slightly squeezed his hand.

Lucifer's eyes widened, heart beating faster than ever before when he heard the name. Even more so when the last virtue removed her mask.

Cold, bored, calculative, and dull.

No longer the bright sparkling [e/c] eyes Lucifer loved before.

“Is this even necessary? All of you had already said what needed to be said.” [y/n] says, removing her hand from Azrael's as she leans her elbows on the table. Putting her chin on her knuckle. A lazy and bored look on her face. A shiny gold band on her ring finger, a wedding ring.

She's married? He asked himself but that question isn't too important as he is focused on something else. How cold she is. That something Lucifer isn't quite used to.

The others looked at [y/n] expectantly making the woman sigh, “Very well then, I would have to agree with the others.” she says coldly.

This isn't his [y/n]. Where was the [y/n] who used to be so kind, bright, cheerful, and had hopes for humanity? What happened to her?

Lucifer stood in fear, not knowing how to act now that [y/n] is revealed to be one of his audience.

“Humans. They are selfish and vile creatures. Destroying the planet our creator had given them, killing and hurting their own kind. Poverty, hunger, corruption, death. If you haven't given them the apple, they would be living in peace and harmony and with no worry in eden but you took that away from them and now they're doomed to suffer.” [y/n] coldly explained. “You cannot see it personally and that is your burden to carry, your punishment.”

Lucifer can't speak, mind blanking as a loud ringing was heard on his ears. Hands shaking, he couldn't breathe.

Where was the one person who believed in him? Did he fucked up so much to even lose her too?

“You're really mad huh?” Azrael says, placing a hand over his cheek. A similar gold band on his ring finger. Lucifer's eyes widened.

Azrael is married to her. Lucifer thought. Defeated.

“Well, this court finds no evidence that this hotel would be effective. I suggest you leave now or you'll face the consequences.” Michael says, voice is booming and filled with authority. The other virtues glaring at him. Halo's shining down on Lucifer as if to mock him, to show him that they are in power.

Why do you still look so disappointed in me? More so even?

Lucifer asked, looking at [y/n] who avoided his gaze.

Azrael showing off his wedding ring to him with a smirk on his face, making Lucifer's eye twitch.

“This meeting is over.” Michael says, glaring down on Lucifer. “Leave or else you'll suffer the consequences.” Michael says, angelic weapons now aimed warningly at him.

Fear coursing through his veins, Lucifer left. Despite wanting to stay and talk to her, he couldn't. Poofing away in a cloud of sparkly red smoke.

“You okay?” Azrael asked beside her as they flew back to their respective territories. Passing by many clouds, the skies now have a dark shade of blue as the sun has set a few hours ago.

“Nope, but I will eventually.” she says with a sigh making the dark haired male smile.

“You know, I didn't expect him to be so small. You used to be the same height but now you're taller than him.” Azrael mutters with a small laugh.

“They don't have the sun there, Azrael. They don't have the necessary vitamins to grow taller.” [y/n] says with a small laugh. The joke making the male angel laugh hysterically.

“HAHAHAHA! Since when did you make such jokes [n/n]? A really dark one too!” he says before winking at her, “No pun intended.”

The unintended pun making the girl chuckle. Azrael smiled, happy he got to make her smile after that stressful meeting.

I based off the seven virtues here aside from Raphael and Azrael image.

Also, I based this off from the "more than anything" song that Lucifer tried to look for ways to help his people and also based off from that one panel of an episode (I forgot which one) where he was wearing the same outfit Charlie is wearing, the pink suit? Yeah, I imagined he did the hotel concept and told Charlie about it.

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z

[rax-writes]

↬ when night falls

Tywin Lannister x Reader

intended to be a sequel to the morning after, but it's not necessary that you read it prior to this

Warnings: Smut, MDNI, 18+ ONLY ⇆ P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, age gap, nipple play, bit of breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, pregnant!reader

The journey from Winterfell to King's Landing took considerably longer than necessary, given the Queen's insistence that she travel in that godsforsaken carriage of hers. As such, five weeks after your marriage to Tywin Lannister, you were spending one final night in a lavish red and gold tent alongside your lord husband.

For the entirety of the journey, the two of you spent the entire day apart – your horse trotting behind your father and King Robert, and Tywin a short distance behind, alongside Ser Jamie. Occasionally, Arya would pester you into allowing her to sit in front of you on the saddle, as you quietly conversed with her and taught her how to control the horse. But, aside from that, you were alone with your thoughts all day, every day.

The nights, however, were spent in the arms of your lord husband.

The two of you quite quickly developed a very… peculiar dynamic. You had quickly learned and adapted to the way the fearsome Tywin Lannister operates – preferring you speak concisely and directly, vehemently uninterested in anything otherwise. Additionally, there was a degree of mutual respect, as well as a vaguely guarded openness to one another – but certainly no love, or any semblance of romantic feelings at all. In truth, you assumed there never would be.

But gods was there lust.

On your end, it was your first and only experience with sex, and it was undeniably good, so you were eager for it. On his end… you couldn't be sure. It could be that the man was pent up from years as a bachelor, but it would be safe to assume he had simply sent for a whore when the mood struck him. A more likely reason would be his pursuit of an heir, but surely he wouldn't have needed to fill your cunt nightly to achieve that goal. No, you were almost certain that he was simply enjoying fucking you – just as much as you were enjoying fucking him.

When Tywin entered the tent, you were sitting on the edge of the cot, toying with the goblet in your hands, already undressed to your shift. He met your eyes as he entered, but said nothing, that unreadable (but somehow always leaning toward annoyed) expression on his face. He silently began taking off his boots, then removed his sword and placed it beside the cot. He was in the middle of pouring wine into his goblet when you found the courage to ask your question.

"Will you stop bedding me when I become pregnant?"

Tywin said nothing, setting the pitcher down and turning to face you as he took a sip of his wine. He wore that calm, calculating expression as he stared at you – but you could swear there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. The golden goblet made a faint clank as he set it down before speaking.

"Do you ask because you wish for me to stop? Or because you wish for me to continue?"

"I wish for you to continue."

"Then I shall continue," Tywin stated, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Good," you replied, then added, "Because I am."

"You are what?"

"Pregnant."

The smile dropped and Tywin's eyebrows raised, making his forehead crinkle.

"Already?" he inquired dryly, surprised. Then, incredulous, he asked, "How do you know?"

It was a fair question. You had never been pregnant before, so perhaps you were mistaking soreness and fatigue from travel as signs of pregnancy. But no. You knew.

"I should have bled three weeks ago, but I have not. My breasts are extremely tender, and certain smells make my stomach turn."

Tywin nodded, then stated, "I do not doubt that you are right, but we will have a Maester provide his confirmation and look you over when we arrive in King's Landing. In the meantime, is there anything you need?"

A faint but wicked smile spread across your face, and you stood from the bed, setting the goblet down as you slowly made your way over to him. The metal of his armor was cold beneath your fingers as you idly ran your hands over his chest, before toying with the belt around his hips, looking up at him through your lashes.

"You," was your simple answer. But both of you knew that it wasn't meant in a romantic, sweet sort of way.

Tywin's hand reached up to cradle your face, somewhat harshly, hooking his thumb under your jaw to tilt your head up and kiss you. It was lustful and full of desire, accompanied by the scratch of his beard upon the delicate skin of your face.

When he pulled away, Tywin smiled quite faintly, then hummed lowly and said, "Well, what sort of man would I be to deny his pregnant lady wife her wish?"

The old lion made quick work of removing his armor and smallclothes, and relieving you of the thin linen shift you wore, before guiding you to the luxurious cot. Tywin continued to kiss you, eventually trailing kisses down your neck, until he reached your chest, unexpectedly taking one of your breasts into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.

The sensation nearly made you shout, opting to take in a sharp breath instead as your back arched off the blankets. Eyes squeezed shut, you heard a low chuckle, and looked down to see a set of very amused, crystalline eyes staring up at you.

"Hm, I see you were not exaggerating about the sensitivity."

Electing to ignore him, you let your head fall back onto the pillow. However, it seemed he did not intend to grant you any reprieve, moving to the other breast and doing the same thing – prompting you to dig your nails into his shoulders and bite your lip to avoid crying out. Unfortunately, that made matters worse, as Tywin let out a low groan with his lips still wrapped around your nipple, earning a loud, pitiful whine from you.

Seemingly enjoying himself, Tywin began peppering your chest with gentle bites, which he soothed with his tongue afterwards, sure to become small little bruises by morning. Breathy moans and sighs of pleasure filled the tent, as he then resumed his ministrations on the hardened peaks of your breasts before snaking one hand down to toy with your clit, expertly rubbing it in small, steady circles. Astoundingly fast, your release washed over you, soaking his hand as you moaned and writhed beneath the Warden of the West – who only chuckled darkly at your quick climax.

Noticing that the continued kisses and licks upon your breasts began to make you twitch, Tywin captured your lips in a brief, rough kiss, before rolling onto his back. He then pulled you into his lap, with a strength one wouldn’t assume the older man to still possess – which was, admittedly, arousing. Your mind was still foggy from the orgasm, and your movements were not unlike a rag doll, eyes half-lidded and jaw slack, moving somewhat limply as you allowed him to maneuver you. He gripped his hard, leaking cock in one hand, then reached behind you to urge you forward with a flat palm on the small of your back.

A hiss through gritted teeth escaped Tywin, and you gasped lightly, head thrown back and hands flat on his chest. Although you’d already lost count of how many times he’d taken you, it still felt more incredible than anything you’d ever experienced. A passing thought reminded you of the fact that he seemed to share the sentiment, always hissing or groaning when he first sheathed himself inside you.

Tywin’s grip moved to your hips, prompting you to begin rocking them against his own, keeping your pace steady. However, he made no move to halt you when you eventually began to move faster, leaning back to rest your hands on his thighs as you fucked yourself on his long, thick cock. The sound of it alone would have made a Septa drop dead – a symphony composed of wet skin upon skin and gruff grunts intermingling with breathy moans.

He reached up to grasp and knead your breasts in his rough, calloused hands – but he then surprised you, his hands drifting lower, until they rested flat against your lower stomach. You thought perhaps he was focusing on the movement of your hips, but then his thumbs began to stroke across the soft skin of your belly.

At first, it seemed very sweet and sentimental. You thought that perhaps he was basking in the joy of another child being on the way – until you felt the way his cock throbbed, deep inside of you, as he stared intently at your belly. Immediately, you came to the realization that it must be arousing for a man to have successfully fucked a babe into his wife – stroking their ego and their pride to have done their husbandly duty, as well as show everyone that you belong to them.

Truth be told, you were surprised to learn that it aroused you just as much.

Tywin groaned as you clenched around him, and when his eyes flicked up to meet yours, it felt as though he knew you had been thinking the very same thing he was.

That seemed to ignite something within your husband, and in the blink of an eye, Tywin flipped you onto your back and began driving into your soaked cunt with a newfound ferocity. You bit down on your knuckle to keep quiet, but Tywin pinned both of your wrists down, his arms on either side of your head. The act did not last much longer beyond that point, both parties having already been too near the precipice of climax, and the pair of you met your releases in unison.

Tywin rolled off of you, breathing heavily, a light layer of sweat covering his chest, along with the small patches of silver hair. You allowed yourself a few moments of recovery, before moving to leave the cot in order to extinguish the candles, as well as tidy yourself up. However, Tywin grabbed your arm to stop you.

“Where are you going?”

“The candles –”

“Can wait,” Tywin interrupted, voice sounding unbothered as always, albeit with a hint of fatigue. He exhaled slowly, as he gently pulled you back down to lay upon the cot beside him. “One of the guards outside can see to the candles in a moment. You are carrying my heir, so you are to rest. As much as is feasible, from now until the babe is born. And if anyone questions it, they are to discuss it with me.”

Anyone possessing the sense the gods gave a mule knows “discussing” something with Tywin Lannister was just the opposite – it was not to be addressed at all, because what Tywin Lannister says, goes. A fact which made you smile softly.

“As my lord husband commands,” you replied, a hint of sarcasm in your tone, but you did exactly as he bade you, pulling some of the blankets over you and nestling into the pillows. You were already yawning by the time Tywin called for a guard, who extinguished the candles, and bathed the room in darkness as you drifted into a deep, contented sleep.

[yestrday]

"This hurts."

Zhongli sips on his tea, looking unbothered by your incessant whining, even smiling to himself when you beg him to let you off practice today. Xiao, who's been standing guard this whole time, has been pointedly avoiding your pleading looks. Clearly, Zhongli has given him a warning not to indulge you.

"Zhongli, please," you whine again, voice higher in pitch as you hope to annoy him to the point of sending you away. "My entire body hurts. Can't we just reschedule this tomorrow?"

"Procrastination rusts determination, my dear," Zhongli hums, finally putting the teacup down. The large dragon tail protruding from his lower spine is slinking back and forth on the ground, and if Aether's observation that that is an equivalent of a dog's happy wag, then that means the bastard is enjoying your suffering. "Your father told me to fix you up before your first apperance at a gala and I have a contract to fulfill. Besides—" He fixes you with a firm golden gaze. "— You decided for yourself to finally go back into the public."

You wince at the reminder, regret building up the more you attend these lessons. Despite the good life you've had spending your days as a recluse with your family of hybrids, you had decided one day that this wasn't how you should live your life. So when your deadbeat dad reached out to you about a charity gala, you agreed quicker than you thought about it. And here you were, suffering the consequences with sore feet and numb arms and trembling fingers. Did going out into public really warrant posture and balance exercises and etiquette lessons?

You wanted out. Out! Ayato's already been a drain on your energy with his morning lecture about conversation starters and conversation, scaring your whines away whenever he thumps his spiny tail on the floor or opens his mouth just for the rows of sharp teeth inside to glint at you. Although Zhongli's an old, soft soul who'd never harm you, you were still tired!

"Once more." Zhongli instructed. "Balance those books and walk a straight line from here to there. Begin."

With a small grumble to yourself, you balance the small stack of books on your head and begin. But these things just keep slipping off, and you're half-tempted to say that this isn't your fault anymore and it's their stupid shiny covers. They slip from your head again and you glare at the scattered books with the hatred of a thousand damned souls.

"Zhongli..." you whimper as pitifully as you can. The dragon only shakes his head and motions to the books for you to pick up again. Your downcast expression has clearly struck a nerve in Xiao's heart, with the way he keeps hesitantly stealing glances at you, but he's cowed by a knowing gaze from Zhongli.

"While I approve of practicing, I believe that all hard work entails some sort of break, no?" A stoic yet gentle voice interrupts from the doorway and your face lightens up at Neuvillette. "Apologies for my intrusion, but I've caught wind from a certain cat that our master is in need of a break."

"Neuvi!" You gleefully shout, rushing over to him and eyeing the dessert platter he's balancing on his hand. "Did Aether tell you? Are those for me?!" When he nods, his eyes crinkle in fondness when you squeal in delight, and his tail slinks left and right on the ground. "Neuvi...! You're the best! I've been held captive here for hours!"

"Well," the water dragon huffs out a laugh as you gorge yourself on macarons. "That is to be expected of such kinds of dragons."

"It's for their own good," Zhongli tightly says, meeting the other dragon's challenging gaze. "It's best to fix them up before they attend the gala rather than indulging them to garner favor."

There is an impatient thumping on the floor, coming both from Neuvi and Zhongli. Both of them maintain their stoic composure, but the tips of Zhongli's fingers begin to tint gold and black, while cold blue scales creep up Neuvi's neck. Their reptilian eyes never break away from each other, slowly morphing into pinprick ones as they begin to devour each other whole with—

"Mmm, that's good," you hum, picking up a macaron and running off to Xiao. "Hey~ Want one?"

Xiao smiles faintly, taking the pastel dessert from your hand and gently patting your hair. He thanks you, and slowly eating it so he can show you how grateful he is. (His golden eyes are darting frantically between his master and Neuvillette and tries not to look too eager when he's munching.) "It's very good." He gives a slight bow towards Neuvillette too. "Thank you too, sir Neuvillette," he says, like the polite man he is.

Neuvillette regards him with less hostility than he does towards his fellow dragon. But he frowns a bit when he sees the small arrogant smile on Zhongli's face when he sees his subordinate getting along wth you. He scoffs.

"If your teacher here is still giving you a hard time, you can always come to me for help," Neuvillette murmurs, just loud enough to provoke Zhongli. He wraps his scaly tail around your leg and brings you closer. "I'll promise to instill the grace you need before the gala minus all the nonsense."

You giggle when his gentle touch tickles your cheek before he tucks a hair behind your ear. Kissing you gently on the forehead, he pulls away with a slight smile. "Good luck, dear." He glances behind you, and wearing a satisfied expression, he closes the door shut.

You're suddenly aware of the tension in the air and you turn around to see Zhongli with closed eyes. His black-brown hands, looking like they've been dipped in gold, clench the arms of the chairs tightly. He lets out a slow exhale and opens his eyes just in time for you to see those cold slits revert to the warm brown human ones.

"Zhongli...?" You ask cautiously, taking a careful step forward. You knew dragons were territorial, but you didn't think that Zhongli would react this way. He was normally so... father-like to all the other hybrids.

"Nothing, my dear." He stands up and holds you a bit tightly by the hand. He takes out a handkerchief from his pocket, all embroidered and silken and as elegant as he is, and rubs away something on the spot Neuvi kissed you. "Just some dirt, thats all."

Gently, he puts his hand on the small of your back and leads you to the chair in front of him. Xiao wordlessly pulls it back and sits you down.

"Come now, have a rest and let's finish these snacks before you start again, hm?"

[written-in-flowers]

Be the Light: Pt. 1 (SeongjoongxReader)

Pairing: Hongjoong x Seonghwa x Fem!reader | Side pairing(s): Ateez x Fem!reader.

Word Count: 7k

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

AU: historical!au, arranged marriage!au, royalty!au

Summary: YN has spent her entire life in service of Han Sookmyung, Queen of Hanseong. She never dreamed above her station, or that she'd ever be in reach of Sookmyung's concubines, 'The Golden Ones'. But, when secrets are brought to life, her world is turned upside-down.

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, heavily referenced torture (briefly), heavily referenced abuse (briefly), heavily referenced sexual abuse (briefly), enslavement, slight gaslighting, lost sibling, political drama, historical drama, joseon!au, concubine!ateez, nsfw content, virgin!reader, polyamory, polygamous, throuple, threesome m/m/f, oral sex (m. and f. receiving/giving), cunnlingus, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, virgin sex, virginity discussed

And thank you so much @daesukiii for beta reading this fic!! It's well appreciated!💕💕

Part 2 >

***

"YN!"

You heard her howl your name from down the hall. The sound of her voice made you quicken your pace, a streak of panic striking through you. 

"YN! YN, where are you?!”

Her voice sent ice cold water through your veins. You’d left her alone with the others for only a moment. What could possibly have happened in the span of five minutes? A slew of scenarios ranging in severity ran through your mind. Somebody brushed her hair too hard. Somebody smeared her lip paint. Somebody said the wrong thing or the right thing but in the wrong way. You preferred not thinking of what she’d done to that person. 

“YN!”

You walked through the wooden hallway, keeping your head down to not draw much attention to yourself. A habit, you supposed, that you’d learned since being her handmaiden. Finally reaching her room, you gave the guard outside a single glance and he slid the door open for you. 

“She’s in a mood today,” he told you gruffly. “You’d think after the night she had, she’d be more docile.”

“She’s never docile,” you replied. “I’ll handle her.”

“As always.” 

You didn’t find her in the front room of her apartments, where servants put out her morning tea and breakfast spread. Walking past the red and cream colored couches, with their low wooden tables, you moved past more servants cleaning the window frames and floors spotless. You opened the doors leading into her bedroom. Two maids in plain hanboks changed her bed sheets and fluffed her pillows. They gave you both a concerned look, which you replied to with a nod.

“YN!”

“Your Majesty, I am here. What is your command?”

Sookmyung stood on a platform in the middle of her dressing room. Four girls dressed in white hanboks kept their heads down and hands clasped together, a sign of their subservience to the woman. Queen Han Sookmyung only wore the emerald skirt of her hanbok, her long black hair unbraided and falling down her back, and you saw the issue immediately. The top layer of her gown laid on the floor at her feet, a bundle of more emerald cloth bordered with golden vines.

“My command is that I want these imbeciles out of my sight!” she screeched, stamping her foot on the platform. “I told this one to bring the blue and gold one. She brought the green and gold!”

“A simple mistake, Your Majesty, I am sure,” you said calmly, walking further into the room. “Aro,” you turned to one of the handmaidens nearest you, “Please bring Her Majesty the dark blue and gold dress. It’s in the fourth box on the second shelf.” She bowed to you, then briskly left for the closet in the other room.

“YN, send them away. I cannot stand looking at them any longer.”

“You are all dismissed for now.”

The remaining handmaidens bowed, then left the room without a word. You moved over to her and began untying the skirt from her torso. Discontent still read on Sookmyung’s thin, oval face. Once the young queen flew into one of her rages, it was difficult to bring her back down. It was why you instructed the handmaidens to do as she said down to the last word. It saved everyone lots of trouble. 

When you gingerly removed the skirt, leaving her in the underskirt and undergarments, you saw yourself in the long mirror. Your white dress nearly blended in with the brightly colored room around you.  Like all female monarchs, she surrounded herself with handmaidens. The distinction was Sookmyung demanded her female servants be virgins, who all wore white to make Sookmyung stand out against them. Being the eldest of her handmaidens, a companion since childhood, your uniform differed in the red ribbon keeping your top half closed. Yet, even then you mustn’t draw too much attention to yourself. How can The Queen shine if her servants looked more beautiful than her? 

“They’re such simpletons,” she grunted. “I do not know what is so difficult. How can one possibly confuse blue with green?”

“I am certain she misheard you, Your Majesty.” Deflect her displeasure. You glanced over to the vanity where someone laid out her jewelry. They’d chosen the dangling gold earrings and matching hair ornaments. “Look at this set, Your Majesty,” you gave a soft gasp, walking over to the jewelry, “These earrings are absolutely divine! Are they not?”

“They are fine enough,” she replied haughtily. “At least the fool chose something that matches.”

“Indeed,” you agreed. “I am surprised she had any fashion sense at all, to be honest.”

“My thoughts exactly,” she sneered, flipping a loose strand of hair from her shoulder. “Send the idiot away when she returns. You will dress me today.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

When the girl returned, you took the long, flat box and dismissed her quietly. Not a sound. Not a whisper or a mumble. That was how servants communicated: discreetly and hurriedly. With everyone gone, only you two remained. You began unwrapping the separate pieces of Sookmyung’s dress from the box. The blue skirt remained plain, while golden dragons interweaved around her shoulders and along the middle of the top. The gold paint shined whenever she moved her torso, and the voluminous skirt gave an illusion of gliding instead of walking.

“I am taking visitors today,” she mused as you began brushing her hair. You took care not to let the brush snag in her waist-length strands. The ring on her finger looked like it’d cut your cheek. “Merchants and common people.”

“Your people wish to speak with you, Your Majesty,” you replied, pulling back her hair to start braiding. “They seek your wisdom and guidance.”

“As they should,” she said, admiring the golden ring on her finger. “I am their queen. They need to heed my words and obey them.”

You would’ve told her that giving advice and giving commands are different things, but you knew better.

After many failed pregnancies, King Siwon and Queen Jisoo finally produced a child in their fourth year. Sookmyung became her father’s sole heir to the throne. Being the only heir, the king groomed his daughter for rule. You wanted to say that Sookmyung ignored her lessons and took no interest in them, but that is far from the truth. Sookmyung devoured her father’s wise council and listened attentively at his elbow. She followed the master at arms around the training yard, learning how to use a sword and bow. She spent time in the stables learning how to tame and ride horses. Everyone hoped her eagerness meant she’d be a good and capable queen, but you knew better. Unlike the king’s council, you knew why Sookmyung took to the idea of ruling the kingdom so quickly.

There’d be nobody to stop her. 

“I heard Kim Haneul wishes to propose to you,” you said, hoping the gossip keeps her occupied. You styled her hair up from her face to accentuate her facial features and long neck, sliding bejeweled pins to keep it in place. “He has had his eye on you for a long time.”

“Which one is he again?” she asked, stumped. “He isn’t the fat one, is he?”

“No, Your Majesty,” you faked an amused giggle. You grabbed her eoyeo meori, the circular wig with its golden adornments. Placing it as a halo around her head before pinning it in place, you continued. “That is Advisor Heechul’s son. Haneul is the son of the new Duke of Daegu. He’s that handsome one who won your archery contest at last year’s harvest festival. I heard from some of the maids that he favors you highly.”

“Of course he does,” she scoffed, double checking the work you’d done. “I’m a queen. He’s a common nobleman.”

“Yes, he is,” you nodded, “But he will approach you nevertheless, Your Majesty.”

“Who told you this nonsense?”

“One of the kitchen hands,” you told her, picking up a powder box from the vanity. “She said she overheard it from Haneul and one of his companions. I thought I’d tell you to prepare you for it should he ask today.” You then added, “I know how much you dislike surprises. I’d hate for him to spring it on you, and you be flustered in making a decision.”

“Yes, I do despise it.” She kept herself still as you began lightly applying powder to her face. “Haneul…Haneul…You say he’s the handsome archer from last year?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Hm, must not be remarkable if I did not collect him already,” she mused. A small smile crossed her face, “Have you seen my flowers today, YN?”

“I haven’t,” you answered honestly. “You know as well as I that no one is permitted in your garden.”

“Oh, my beautiful flowers,” she sighed softly. “They bring me such comfort.” 

You saw her eyes glaze over as they did when she spoke of Them. Those at court called them ‘The Golden Ones’, but Sookmyung called them her ‘flowers’. You pondered on the men while you finished painting her lips. Upon his death, king Siwon had twenty-five concubines living in the “private gardens” near the king’s quarters. Sookmyung dismissed them all the morning after his death, determined to fill it with concubines of her own. You and her advisors told her queens did not usually take male concubines, since she is meant to marry and produce children. Sookmyung ignored all of you. During her war campaign across the country, she searched for handsome men to bring into her harem. Yet, with all things, she was picky. Her concubines needed to be ethereal beauties; they needed to be trophies that would make her the envy of the court. She eventually found them, imprisoned them, and then put them in the gardens to do what she pleased. 

Sookmyung currently has eight concubines. No doubt should another war arise, she will steal more sons.

“Tell the guard to bring my flowers to the throne room today,” she said, admiring herself in the mirror when you finished. “I wish for them to be there. They do bring me relief on days like today.”

“At once, Your Majesty.” You picked up a purple perfume box, but Sookmyung shook her head. 

“No, not jasmine. Hongjoong detests jasmine scents.”

‘He does not. It’s you he detests.’ 

“Then will you prefer the lavender or the rose perfume?”

“Lavender. It has such a calming effect on him,” she said when you started dabbing the scent on her neck and wrists. “My fiery blossom. I know he will be furious if that fool Haneul comes forward. His jealousy is only outmatched by my own, I’m afraid.”

“Well, seeing other men fawn over you must make him believe your love for him will wane and disappear,” a male voice said from somewhere behind you. “We cannot fault him for his emotions.”

You turned your head to see an old man walk into the room. His salt-and-pepper hair cut short, he’d left his thin mustache and beard growing past throat to his chest. Wrinkled by age, Senior Advisor Choi Wonshik served the royal family since Sookmyung’s grandfather’s time. In the red robes of a first rank advisor, he walked further into the room. He smiled at Sookmyung, giving her a slight bow as their eyes met. 

“Senior Advisor,” Sookmyung said, looking back at herself, “What brings you here?”

“I came to see if you’d be joining us in the throne hall for petitions this morning,” he asked. “The other advisors and I believe it will show the people an image of concern if you are seen on your father’s throne-”

“-You mean my throne,” she cut him off. “I am the queen.”

“Apologies, Your Majesty,” he smiled, giving a nod of the head, “Old habits die hard.”

“Or easily,” you heard her mutter. “But, yes I will be there today. Tell the other officials to worry.”

“That is a relief to hear,” he grinned. “We look forward to seeing you there.”

“Mhm-hm.”

His attention turned to you, “Good day, YN.”

“Good day, Senior Advisor,” you gave a slight bow and a smile. 

It was the briefest of glances but you noticed it right away. Eyes lined with crows feet looked between you and Sookmyung, with a certain disappointment lingering in them. The expression did not sit right with you, but it was not your place to question. Advisor Choi left, and you and Sookmyung were alone again. He seemed to be filled with words he could not say out loud. Then again, many people did the same. It was Sookmyung’s chuckle that caught your attention.

“The old man likes you,” she cackled. “Out of all the men in the world, it’s the ancient one.”

“He was being polite,” you said to her, cheeks burning from her laughter. 

“He doesn’t have to be ‘polite’ to you,” she said. “He outranks you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted you as his concubine. It is disgusting to think about,” she shuddered, “Those knobbly hands on you and those lips. Don’t worry, YN. I won’t let him touch you.”

“That is kind of you, Your Majesty.”

“You must be envious of me, YN. I have my beautiful flowers and you have nobody,” she said thoughtfully, “I spend ages worshiping Seonghwa’s gorgeous body or listening to Jongho sing and you're here all alone. It must be sad."

“It can be, but I hope one day that will change,” you told her. You grabbed the blue overcoat from the box, letting her stand to put it on her. “I may find someone who is patient and clever. The kind of man who treats his lady well and is gracious and kind.” A man such as Seonghwa. But, that was a thought you immediately pushed out. 

“Men like that are needles in a haystack. Only I have been fortunate to find such lovely beauties like my flowers,” she said. “Like Hongjoong…”

You followed her out of the bedroom. Hongjoong’s face came to the forefront of your mind. The last of Sookmyung’s flowers, he’d quickly become her favorite. You saw how he fawned over her, and constantly whispered things in her ear that made her giggle. Secretly, you wished it was you he whispered to, but you knew that wouldn’t be. Hongjoong is placed far out of your reach, just like the rest of them. As you followed her out of her room, you bit your lip thinking about the last time she made you stay in their “garden”. Sookmyung took delight in seeing you flustered and squirming when she took one of them. Like all her handmaidens, you’d kept your virginity intact, which she enjoyed teasing you about. But, if you had your pick, you'd have him or Seonghwa. Possibly even both. 

Four men dressed in black and red leather armor met you outside her chambers. You whispered the summons to one of them, and he passed it along to one of the guards at the main doors. A wooden palanquin sat at the bottom steps of the residency building, a red awning keeping the sun from hitting Sookmyung as she climbed inside. You, however, stayed on the outside. You eyed the spot beside her, a seat wide enough for you both to fit, but you knew she’d never offer it to you. The queen rides in the palanquin. Her handmaiden walks. 

“But you wouldn’t understand anything about that,” Sookmyung giggled as the footmen lifted the litter and the group moved. You walked steadily at her side, making sure to keep yourself in step. Move too slow, and she’ll complain that you’re lagging behind. Move too quickly, and she’ll accuse you of trying to upstage her. “You are unmarried and are still a virgin.”

“That does not mean I cannot love, Your Majesty, or understand how it works,” you replied calmly. You sensed the taunt skirting around her words, and you braced yourself for more. “I see how Hongjoong and the others are when you’re in their presence. It is like seeing heaven on earth. They worship you. They adore you. I think we all can only hope for such love to come into our lives.”

“How sweet,” she pouted, “It must be nice to have such naive and fanciful dreams about love. I’m afraid it is not always so heavenly.” You noticed her face turn sour, “I see how those little harlots in court gawk at them whenever they pass. They see my flowers and sigh over them.” You saw her fold her hands over one another on her lap, “I remember that one idiot who tried seducing my Mingi. She had that pathetic, simpering smile and that obnoxious laugh. Ugh, it was a humiliating display," a wicked smirk came across her face, "But, I put a stop to that all together. You remember that, do you not, YN?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I do.” 

Lady Seulgi, a noblewoman draped in expensive adornments, had come to the palace during a birthday celebration. You recall how Sookmyung spotted her eyeing Mingi, one of the concubines, and the jealousy flaring in her eyes. You’d done all you could to convince Sookmyung that she saw nothing; Lady Seulgi happened to look in his direction, that was all. This lie worked for a time, before someone else spotted Lady Seulgi trying to corner Mingi in the palace garden. Sookmyung immediately had Lady Seulgi thrown into the dark, secluded jails in the back of the palace. Walking up the steps of a gate to reach the throne hall, you recall seeing Lady Seulgi removed of her finery and forced into a roughspun tunic. The beautiful, bold lady you’d seen that night became a filthy, frightened creature within days. You tried not remembering the stubs of her missing fingers, or the screams she made when Sookmyung pulled out her toenails one at a time. 

‘Make her ugly. Make her so ugly nobody will look at her.’ 

Nobody heard from Seulgi ever again. 

You spotted masses of people filling the wide throne courtyard. Nobles and commoners alike came to petition their problems to the queen, and it created a multi-colored sea of people in the square. Right when the palanquin passed through the gate, a group of soldiers dressed in red and white began playing on either side of the large doors. Two held horns, two banged on drums, one with cymbals, and another held a gong as they walked down the aisle. 

“The Queen is entering!” the leader called out in a booming voice, which caught everyone's attention. 

The daechwita played as they led the procession towards the throne hall. You kept your eyes to the ground now, making yourself as invisible as possible, and followed the palanquin the entire way. You chanced a glance at Sookmyung, whose eyes danced with pride. This is what she loved. This is why she scorched villages and killed kings. The power that emanated from the people bowing to her seemed to swell in her chest. You pitied anyone who upset her today.  They may end up the same way as Lady Seulgi if they’re not careful. 

The palanquin reached the throne hall’s platform, and footmen helped Sookmyung out of it. You briskly straightened out the back of her gown, and then stepped out of her way. The throne hall was wide with open windows, lattice walls, and a high decorative ceiling. Before his death, the king sat on the throne of his ancestors before him. A red throne painted with gold dragons, with a folded screen stood behind depicting the sun, moon, and mountains. It took someone three steps to reach the top of the platform, which only gave enough space for the king and two bodyguards to occupy. 

When Sookmyung came into power, she expanded on this inch by inch. She rebuilt the throne itself to have a taller back to rest on, and raised the platform a several more steps to open it up. This way, her concubines may sit on the steps in comfort, lounging peacefully on display for the whole court. Nobody said it out loud, but you knew why she wanted them with her. How can she flaunt her victories if the trophies are hidden behind garden walls? It made you sick. She not only desecrated the ancient throne, which for centuries stood as a symbol of dignity, but put her own proudful twist on it as well. You followed her up the steps, and walked right to your place in the shadows of the high dais. 

“All hail the Queen!” the singer called out. 

“All hail the Queen!” most of the crowd repeated back. 

Back in her father’s day, the king would speak to his subjects directly. He’d thank them for traveling to visit him, and begin accepting petitions and propositions. Sookmyung stayed silent, eyeing the crowd, while Senior Advisor Choi stepped in front of the throne. 

“Good people, good people,” he called, “It is our queen’s great delight and honor to host you here in her grand throne hall today. She is very interested to hear your thoughts and find solutions for your concerns. May the first of the petitioners step forward, please.”

The first to approach were two men. You took in their haggard appearance: clothes hanging from their skinny frames, worn out shoes on their feet, and their skin tanned from years in the sun. You could tell they must work outdoors, most likely in one of Sookmyung’s rice or spice fields. The taller man spoke up first, fire in his voice already.

“Your Majesty, I have been severely wronged in your great country,” he began. “This man,” he pointed to the person beside him, “Has been extending his land onto mine little by little for several months now!”

“Your Majesty, I have done no such thing! I was merely rebuilding my fences, and happened to accidentally-”

“-Accidentally? Ha, please! Do not try to fool us into believing you do not know where your land ends and mine begins,” his opponent retorted. “You have been rebuilding that fence of yours for quite some time. The stakes from the last rebuild are still in the ground, and they are several feet from where they’d been before.”

“My son has been helping me, Your Majesty,” the man said to Sookmyung. “He is not the brightest of boys, but he is strong and helpful to me in my old age. He must have marked the line wrong-”

“-How despicable! To blame your deception on your own flesh and blood-”

“-I am only providing a possible explanation! Besides, why do you care? It is not as if you tend to your fields regularly or properly. I have seen the grain you grow. It is subpar at best, and inedible at worst. I am the superior farmer, therefore I should have more land…”

“This is so boring,” Sookmyung mumbled loud enough for you to hear. “Who cares about a stupid farm?”

“Their farms are important to them, Your Majesty,” you replied. “It is the only way they can feed themselves and their families.”

“Psh, as if they are now. Look how skinny they are. It’s appalling.”

“Yes, it is.”

Your heart sank hearing the two men describe their feud to one another. You thought of your own solution: You would’ve told them to have an official come and inspect the property lines for them to have an unbiased opinion. You’d pay builders from the city to repair the fence damage and realign it to avoid any more confusion. They would have done that already if they could afford to pay for the help. Sookmyung’s high taxes and the wealthy’s low wages make it difficult for the common folk of the kingdom to live properly. The few times you’d gone into the city for her, you’d seen the way most of them live day-to-day. They’re starving, unable to properly care for themselves or their children, and barely afford to pay their land owners. In their desperation, many of them venture into the Queen’s forest to hunt for food, with hopes of not being caught by guards roaming the perimeters. Others resort to criminal activities, since the slum lords pay much better than their law abiding counterparts. Sookymung’s kingdom fell into poverty because of the grand lifestyle she wished to live and the wars she'd waged. While her people starved, the queen and her elite nobles dined and dressed well. It sickened you to your stomach. 

“...Which of them brings in more grain?” Sookmyung asked the senior advisor. 

Senior Choi looked to Advisor Park, the master of coin who took care of the kingdom’s finances. It took the middle-aged man a moment, but he eventually found their names and most recent tax payments. The accused paid more in his taxes and supplied more grain than his accuser.

“Then it is clear that he deserves more land than this one,” Sookmyung told Choi. “Why give land to a man who cannot contribute to the prosperity of his kingdom and his queen?”

Choi stared up at her, but he did not look as dumbfounded as his fellow advisors. For the briefest moment, you caught disdain in his dark eyes. Nevertheless, he turned away and addressed the men. 

“Then it is clear that…that he deserves more land than this one,” you heard him repeat stoically. “Why give land to a man who cannot contribute to the prosperity of his kingdom and his queen?”

“B-B-But, Your Majesty, my family has owned that farm for many years,” he said imploringly. “It is not right!”

“Perhaps his family should find a new venture and stop wasting my time", Sookmyung huffed. “The man will keep his fence where it is, and you will accept my decision.”

Choi repeated her words verbatim, and the man’s jaw dropped. “Your Majesty-”

“-Next,” she dismissed him through Choi.

Both men were forced to the side by guards. Right as the next person came up, drums and horns suddenly rang throughout the large hall. Sookmyung’s eyes lit up and she beamed at the people entering the room.

“Her Majesty’s concubines approach!” the leader said. “Make way for The Golden Ones! Make way!”

Surrounded by four guards dressed in all black armor walked a group of eight men.

As always, Sookmyung’s concubines wore their black and gold hanboks: Their overcoats of black silk covered most of their body, the wide sleeves ending far past their fingers. Glimmering stones weaved into the intricate floral patterns of their golden sashes, matching the hair pins and jewelry they wore. What separated them the most were their veils. Thin veils hanging from their ears hung to their chests, the sheer fabric dotted with gold pieces to hide their features. Only you and Sookmyung ever saw their faces unmasked. She said the less they revealed of themselves, the less likely anybody would desire them.

A complete and utter lie, in your opinion.

“My beautiful flowers,” she smiled, eyes full of fondness. “So wonderful to see you early in the morning,” she watched them walk up the steps to their assigned seats on the steps.

The farthest was Jongho, who sat on the third step from the bottom, lounging back with one elbow on the step above him. The youngest of her flowers, he kept his black hair in a braid that was woven with gold bands. Formerly an innkeeper’s son, Sookmyung stole him from his family during the end of her campaign. You never forgot how Sookmyung viciously beat the old woman who begged her not to take him; how Jongho did not stop crying the entire way back to the capital.

“Your braid looks lovely today, Jongho,” Sookmyung admired, looking over his round, soft features from afar.

“I am glad you think so, Mistress,” he said, “I added the jewels especially for you.”

“I’m wearing the hair band you gifted me, Mistress,” said a slender boy sitting just above him.

Wooyoung. The son of the Duke of Pyongyang, the siege of his city took Sookmyung only a few days. She often boasted about how their forces retreated from her men like mice. As with the other kingdoms, she gifted the seat of House Jung to one of her allies, and took the duke’s son for herself. Wooyoung fled into the woods, being hunted by Sookmyung and her pack of dogs for several days before being found and dragged to camp. You preferred not thinking about what Sookmyung did to break him.

You noticed the young man winced when he moved to face her. From what you’d gathered, Sookmyung visited his chambers the previous night. Whatever she’d done left him sore and holding back whimpers of pain. The tenderness inside you wished to reach out for him. You wished to comfort and assure him that his pain will subside soon. His wounds will heal and he will be fine. But, how ‘fine’ is he when Sookmyung owns him?

“It looks lovely on you, darling,” Sookmyung said. Another peasant was brought before her, but she ignored him. “You were magnificent last night. You and San both.”

San, muscular and broad, sat across from Wooyoung. Thin eyes flickered with hate before changing to pure seduction. “As were you, Mistress.”

Choi San used to be a soldier in Sookymung’s army. His father, General Choi, was a general who commanded a large portion of her forces. One day, when his battalion was overpowered and forced to retreat, Sookmyung took this failure as a sign of weakness. It inflamed her burning rage, and Sookmyung sentenced the man to a brutal death: being beaten with clubs by his own lieutenants. San was forced to watch the entire thing. From what you’d heard, he still woke up screaming for his father to run.

“Mistress, I’m sleepy,” said the man sitting above San and Wooyoung. Long-limbed with sleek brown hair, he gave an audible yawn and stretched. “I sleep so lightly without you beside me.”

Another sweet lie to fill her head with dreams. Sookmyung’s war took her all over the country, and this meant bypassing several inns and small villages. When attacking Haeju, Sookmyung camped outside a small fishing village right on the west coast. There, she found plenty of provisions and ship builders to repair the damaged fleet. With them came a tall, lean young man with brown hair and a precious smile. Song Mingi. You’d originally thought Sookmyung took Mingi for a fleeting fancy, but when she told him that he’d be joining the other men she’d dragged with her, he naturally refused. It wasn’t until Sookmyung threatened to kill his entire family that he went with her.

Sookmyung burnt down his whole village, ultimately murdering his family anyways.

“Perhaps I may remedy that tonight, lovely,” she replied, smirking at the suggestion. “I wouldn’t want my Mingi to collapse from lack of proper rest.”

“Then what of me, Mistress?” a wide-eyed young man said on the other side. “You said you’d be with me.”

Dainty and petite, Kang Yeosang was also nobility. While not high in rank, his family did supply the opposition with food and resources throughout the war. Sookmyung created the strategy to hit them at their source, which included raiding baggage supply trains moving through the country. Yeosang led one such train, and while his men fought valiantly, they were defeated. Yeosang, having an angelic look to him with doe-like eyes, became another addition to her growing harem. She promised he’d go home if his family surrendered their land and resources to her, so Yeosang agreed. But, Yeosang never went home. It took him a short time to realize that Sookmyung never planned on ransoming him. When he heard her forces invaded his home, slaughtered his family, and claimed it in her name, he knew he’d never see home again.

“You can join us then, Yeosangie,” she cooed.

A peasant woman holding a baby in a blanket came forward, tearful and pleading for her child’s life. Sookmyung hardly listened to her as she addressed the man next to Yeosang: Yunho. Equally as tall as Mingi, he kept his black in a top knot with a black band around his forehead. A servant placed a bowl of grapes in front of him, but he did not eat them. He could never eat with Sookmyung around. She disgusted him to the point of losing his appetite. 

“Yunho, are you not hungry?”

“I had a large breakfast, Mistress.”

He turned his head to answer her, then back to the woman standing before him. She sobbed about how a group of men ransacked her home, taking everything she owned and leaving her with nothing but her life. You saw the pity in his puppy-dog eyes. He dug into the pocket of his overcoat and withdrew a velvet coin purse. You knew that Yunho sometimes secretly slipped silver or gold coins to the servants when possible. 

“Here,” Yunho walked down the steps to her, “For your and your child.”

“S-Sir…” she wept, looking at the large sum in her hand, “I…I cannot…” she glanced at Sookmyung, who glared. “I cannot accept this-”

“-I insist,” Yunho said, not reaching or touching her. It’d put a mark on her back for certain. “You need it more than me.”

“Thank you,” she cried, “Thank you, sir.” 

“Isn’t my Yunho generous?” Sookmyung said, though her grin did not reach her ears. “He is always thinking of others.”

“It is why you noticed me, Mistress, is it not?”

He came back to his seat and your eyes briefly met his. Yunho, not of noble birth, lived in a farming village before outlaws came and raided them. By the time Sookmyung arrived, several villagers either died or were grievously injured. Being the son of the town physician, Yunho tended to several of the children, frightened and wounded from the bandits. Sookmyung not only found it endearing, but saw Yunho’s apparent handsomeness. She promised he’d be her personal physician’s apprentice, learning at the elbow of the finest in the kingdom. He only needed to travel with her for a few days. But, when she placed him in the harem tent with the others, he realized what his role would truly be. It is only fortunate that Yunho is able to tend to whatever wounds the concubines suffer at Sookmyung’s hands.

“It is,” she nodded. “You’re just as sweet as my Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa sat on a cushion a step right beneath Sookmyung. The eldest of the Golden Ones, his sharp jawline and full lips enchanted Sookmyung right away. Son of an advisor to another king, he’d attempted to trade his life for his younger brother, whom she’d gifted to a group of loyalists during her victory celebration. Unfortunately, this did not work. His younger brother was carried off by the men while Seonghwa was dragged to her new chambers. From what you know, Seonghwa hasn’t seen his brother since then. 

His father having been a notable advisor, Senior Advisor Choi has often sought him out for counsel and opinion. You supposed this intelligence is why he’d managed to last so long. He gave her a dashing smile, and spoke in his deep voice.

“But nobody is as sweet as you, Mistress,” he licked his lips, “Nobody certainly tastes as sweet either.”

“Seonghwa,” she flipped open her fan and gave it to you to fan her, “You always know what to say.”

Her eyes then landed on the concubine sitting on her left, elbow on the arm of the throne and appearing bored. Black hair tied back in a ponytail, Sookmyung gifted him with a red headband to wear around his head. Embroidered flowers in the center, this symbol of Sookmyung’s favoritism set him apart from the others. You’re sure that the reason she favored him so highly is not only his handsomeness, but the fact that he’d been a true prince. Hongjoong, Crowned Prince of Wonju. 

Wonju was a peaceful, plentiful kingdom that remained its own nation after the Han clan took over the country. Somewhere far off in the east, you remember the mountain ranges that surrounded the area, high and steep so that very few enemies could pass. It’d been ruled over by the Kim clan, with King Hyungshik at the head. A king in his own right, it was peace terms with the Hans that prevented open warfare. You’d always understood both nations to live side-by-side in harmony. Then Sookmyung became queen, and she could not have another monarch in her country. 

But, Wonju did not fall to Sookmyung as easily. Several bloody and fierce battles were found on land and sea, ripping the two nations apart in the process. Several kingdoms sided with Wonju, but they’d been overpowered by the queen’s men. Sookmyung’s triumph over Wonju became a lasting highlight of her conquest. She’d taken Hongjoong as a further stab to those who’d rebel and oppose her. To her, he is her biggest trophy. 

“Mistress, please let us be done with this riff-raff,” Hongjoong drawled, “And entertain ourselves elsewhere. This business bores me to tears.”

Yet, even after the death of their royal family, the people of Wonju oppose Sookmyung and the man she put in charge of them. Many resistance fighters her armies capture are from Wonju. You wondered at what point did they stop trying to rescue Hongjoong and focus their efforts on usurping Sookmyung. You knew he hated Sookmyung, regardless of what he said to the contrary. You’d hate her too if you were him. But, Hongjoong had secrets of his own.

You’d never tell anyone about the woman you’d seen him meeting at night.

“It is part of my duty as queen, blossom,” she told him, lifting his chin to make him look at her. “Advisor Choi insists I perform my responsibilities as ruler, but the only thing I ever wish to do is be in your arms and in your bed.”

“Then leave these filthy peasants, love,” he took the hand on his chin and held it gently, “And let me admire my queen as a loyal subject should.”

“Hongjoongie…” she breathed,

“Please, Mistress,” he put a yearning into his seductive tone, “It has been so long since you have visited my chambers. You’re always with the others and never with me,” he put a hand on her knee and knelt. You heard him whisper something obscene in her ear, which made her giggle. “…It grows harder in every thought. Do not leave me wanting, Mistress, please. It aches for you…”

This is what Sookmyung wanted: a concubine who professes nothing but undying desire for her. Sookmyung could never truly love anyone, regardless of what she said. Hongjoong knew this, and you admired his tact. It is better to make her believe he needed her than to show his true feelings. You wondered if he thought of the other woman when he said these words. You knew he'd never think of you. 

You saw them after a celebration for Sookmyung’s five-year-reign as queen. You finished helping her into bed and took the shortcut back to the servant’s quarters to rest your tired feet. Cutting through the concubine gardens, you’d heard hushed voices through a hedge. You thought nothing of it at the time, since you thought it must’ve been the wind or an animal nearby. Yet, you then heard the high voice of Kim Hongjoong, followed by another voice. A woman’s voice. Curiosity and shock got the better of you, and you peeked through the high hedge to see their figures in the shadows of the trees. You couldn’t tell what they’d done, since they hid themselves behind dense thickets of shrubbery, but it did not take much to wonder. You never saw the woman, so you guessed she’d gone over the garden wall, but you did see Hongjoong. It did not take a genius to figure out what he’d done. You swore yourself to secrecy; you told yourself that revealing this secret of his to anyone meant death.

“Alright,” she pouted, “I can never say no to this beautiful face of yours…”

“Or my tongue,” he added softly, putting his face inches from hers but never kissing. The veil acted as a barrier that drove her nuts. “Seonghwa will join us, if you wish. He enjoys you just as much as I do. Isn’t that so, Brother?”

“It is,” Seonghwa nodded, but did not approach her.

Your eyes met Hongjoong’s. You wished you could thank him. With Sookmyung occupied with him and his “brothers”, you could see your mother, whom you haven’t seen for two nights. You may even see Queen Jisoo, Sookmyung’s mother. 

“We’re done for today,” Sookmyung told Choi, who nodded stiffly. “Come, flowers.”

One by one they followed her down the steps, and you trailed behind them. Everyone bowed their heads as she walked by, but you couldn’t help seeing their glaring faces. They must’ve waited hours to see her, and she only listened to two or three people. She conquered every kingdom in the country, turning them into wards under her rule, and did nothing to help them. Like the men who trailed behind her, they are spoils of war. Sookmyung squandered their collective wealth, expecting her subjects to accept it without complaint. You wished you knew a way to help, but you’re as powerless as them. You watched Hongjoong climb into Sookmyung’s litter, the pair instantly turning to one another, and expected to walk alongside them.

“No, no, YN,” Sookmyung stopped you as you approached. “You’re dismissed for the day. Come to the garden around supper. If anyone comes calling for me, tell them I am indisposed.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” you bowed, standing aside as the footmen lifted up the five litters.

She turned away from you to kiss Hongjoong, who tilted his head to deepen it. Once more, you locked eyes with one another. You gave him an appreciative smile, which he replied with a blink. You waited until Sookmyung was far away before walking towards the opposite gate back to the residency area. Passing by Sookmyung’s personal apartments, you walked further down the hall to a set of double doors guarded by a leggy man in leather armor. 

“Good morning, Junhan,” you grinned at them, the older man grinning back. “Is Her Majesty accepting visitors?”

“She will if it’s you,” he replied, “How was the witch this morning?”

“Junhan,” you hissed, holding back your laugh and looking down the hall, “You know better.”

“Ah, as if anyone is going to hear me here,” he rolled his eyes. He slid open the door for you, and said, “She’ll be glad to see you. Your mother says Her Majesty has been anxious these past few days.”

“Then I should see her quickly,” you said, giving him a nod before walking into the main room. 

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” you smiled as you entered a nearby sitting room. 

The Queen Mother Jisoo was once held in the admiration of everyone in the kingdom. She’d helped the kingdom in many ways during her reign alongside her husband: giving smaller villages access to clean water, funding orphanages and reconstructing damaged parts of the city. She helped pass laws that protected women in arranged marriages or dangerous situations, and gave protection to children. It was because of her that many people, especially the women and children, felt safe in the kingdom. But, when her daughter became queen, the Queen Mother stepped back and focused on her passions instead. However, age came for Jisoo, and her mobility became limited and her health declined slightly.

“Ah, YN, good morning,” Jisoo smiled. She sat in her wheeled chair today, a blanket over her lap and a cup of tea in her hand. “How is my daughter?”

“She is well. She is in the throne hall,” you fibbed. “She asked me to come check on you for her.”

“YN,” she smiled softly, shaking her head, “You’d lie to an old woman to spare her feelings. Please, come and sit. I’m sure Sookmyung did not make the morning easy for you. A servant told me she sent away her handmaidens this morning.”

“She did.” You took the seat across from her and prepared yourself a cup of tea. You offered to refill her cup, but she refused. “Your Majesty, you must eat,” you noticed the amount of food left over, “If you don’t, it will get cold.”

“I don’t have much of an appetite today,” she admitted. “But, I’m sure you’re famished, so please, eat.”

“She hardly had time to eat her breakfast this morning, Your Majesty.”

A woman in a gray and blue hanbok walked into the room, carrying a stack of folded sheets. Her hair tied up in a bun, she wore the blue and gray hanbok of Queen Jisoo’s maids. Like your red ribbon, she wore a white one. You grinned at the sight of your mother. She’d been Queen Jisoo’s handmaiden in her youth, being at her side for every event of her life. When you grew up, you became Sookmyung’s maid. Except, you’re certain your mother had a much better time serving Jisoo than you did Sookmyung.

“And why was that?” Jisoo asked curiously. “Breakfast is important, and you’re still a growing woman.”

“The queen needed me to assist her in her garden,” you admitted over a cup of tea before sipping. You saw the disapproval on your mother’s face, but it was Jisoo who spoke up.

“And what horrid thing did she make you witness?”

“Nothing. She’d sent the concubines away before I arrived.”

“Hmph, in my day, queens did not have ‘concubines’,” your mother huffed, shaking her head. “The physician tells me he brews her tansy tea to avoid scandalous mishaps, but that is not healthy for a young woman. She’ll do severe damage to her womb, and not be able to produce children at all at this rate.”

“Chaewon,” the queen shushed her sharply. 

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” she apologized. She noticed you not eating, and spread a bit of honey on bread for you. You knew better than to refuse her, so you ate it in small bites.

“My Sookmyung has always had a certain fiery passion,” Jisoo said. “Her father was similar. It was why he had so many concubines. He had an appetite I could not handle on my own,” she giggled.

“But, Your Majesty, the things I’ve heard The Queen does are-”

“-I know they are,” she cut in. “My daughter is a young woman, a new monarch. I will not rob her of enjoying her youth before settling down and marrying someone.”

Did that enjoyment of youth involve locking people in dungeons to torment and torture for pleasure? Did it include kidnapping young men from their families and forcing them to fulfill her every whim? Jisoo might make excuses for Sookmyung, but you would not. You finished the bit of bread given to you, and took up a bowl of kimchi instead. Not fully tasting the vegetable side, you pitied the concubines. Only the gods know what act she is forcing Hongjoong and Seonghwa to perform for her. 

You wished you could help them. You wished you could help a lot of people.

***

A/N: I freaking love historical aus, don't you?? I know this probably isn't a 100% accurate, but I tried to get as close as possible while still mixing in a fictional realm. I really hope you enjoyed this first chapter <3 feel free to like and reblog, it keeps posts alive!!