#ladies like armor plating

[flatlinedgamer]

I love how Montgomery started out as aloof and snarky towards Marco and now he's her best friend and annoying wingman.

[echoing-gravity]

Can Marinette Bench press a building?!

(Ladybugs, also known as lady beetles or ladybird beetles, are able to carry objects that are up to 1,000 times their own weight due to the unique structure of their exoskeletons. An exoskeleton is an external protective covering that provides support and protection to the insect's body. This covering is made up of a material called chitin, which is a strong and lightweight polymer. The exoskeleton also gives ladybugs their characteristic shiny, hard shells. Ladybugs use their powerful leg muscles to lift and carry heavy objects, such as large leaves or other insects. The unique structure of their exoskeleton allows them to distribute the load evenly across their body, making it possible for them to carry heavy objects without being weighed down. Additionally, their strong legs and other muscles are equipped to sustain this weight too)

But like with her legs???

I wanna see a MLB x DC fic where Marinette is working with young justice and like a building fucking falls on them but marinette just fucking kicks it away. Or picks it up. Itd be even more absurdly funny if she wasn't transformed and the super strength is like a kwami side effect.

WHAT IS MARINETTES WEIGHT? IS THERE A CANNON ANSWER??? DO I HAVE TO PULL A MATPAT AND DO PIXEL MEASUREMENT MATHAMATICAL BULLSHIT???? I WANNA KNOW IF SHE CAN LOFT A BUILDING OR NOT!!!

[discountalien-pancake]

Sometimes i see a piece of art and i just wanna ask the artist,

are you aware that plate armor is not flexible?

[fsnowzombie]

Armored Lady Monday

another mermay themed one!

i was laying on my bed yesterdday with the thought, what kind of armor a triton would use of they decided to live underwater exclusively, something that hopefully didnt corrode like metal, i landed on reinforcing crustacean plating or something like that, hope you like!

[saiidahyunie]

loyalty, royalty, and death by exile

im nayeon x reader || fluff, smut, angst

synopsis: your brother's lover nayeon had already fallen for you behind his back, until she couldn't be yours to love anymore.

wc: 5.2k

warnings: smut, cursing, pining

a/n: school started again for me (naurrrrrr), but be aware for the lack of uploads. :0

—

“haven’t you heard the news?” your fellow guardmate changbin shoves your shoulder, snapping you out of your daydreaming, slapping the middle of his chest plate that makes him falter back from the surprise contact. 

“no, what did i miss?” 

“apparently your brother is in a relationship with the crown jewel of the im dynasty.” 

changbin taps your back, nicking his head for you to follow in the corridors of the castle, following along as the noises of a common area in one of the bigger rooms—the exchange of laughs and cheers once you two reach the room. hanni, one of the other guards, opens the door for you two to enter briskly without anyone noticing. 

“where were you guys?” hanni asks, signaling you to straighten your shoulder pads as changbin scrunches his nose at you, hiding a snicker as the door behind you three shuts behind. 

“apparently y/n needed some fresh air for a bit, she’s been complaining about the armor being uncomfortable.” 

“another yap from either of you two, and i’ll challenge both of you to a swordfight in the training quarters.” 

you finally move around to the edge of the room, your brother felix now in your line of sight, with his brand new love interest right beside him. you’ve only heard from word of mouth, specifically from felix himself since he asked you about relationship advice. 

despite bursting out laughing while shaking your head, your brother’s ears flaring red like there was steam coming out of them, you gave him the typical advice of charming his crush and not to do anything stupid. 

to your surprise, after one gathering at a nightly party outside in the garden, he was able to get past that hurdle with ease, his new girlfriend getting more and more interested as time went on. 

“y/n!” 

you hear felix call out to you while on your way to the horse’s barracks, his girlfriend right behind with her hand in his, a beaming smile across her face once they finally reach you. 

“you need something felix?” you ask, wiping your helmet with a finger.

“nothing, i just figured that i should thank you for your help. in return, i’d like you to meet princess im nayeon.”

“my lady, please tell me my brother here didn’t approach you with his charming deep voice.” 

nayeon laughs, clearly elated to see that you were a very easy person with a sense of humor.

“he did, but don’t worry he did a lot more work to impress me.” nayeon replies, hand clasping hers in a firm handshake, meeting eye to eye of the pretty princess that your brother had managed to rope in. 

“i hope i wasn’t interrupting something between you two, was i felix?” you ask, standing across from them with your helmet in your arm now.

“not at all, i was just taking her out to the lake just now, but we just caught you on the way.” he replies, rubbing his shoulder to ease the awkward aura. 

nayeon looks towards you, eyes trailing at your features on your face, the little strands of hair peering over your forehead, eyes steel cold but piercing with life, how meticulously structured and molded like felix’s face—nothing short in terms of visuals in your family. it was easy to say that nayeon was interested in you from the start. 

“well i don’t want to be holding up you two for too long so i’ll see you guys at dinner.” you say, a soft smile on your lips as you excused yourself from the couple. 

a quick back and forth of goodbyes and you three start to walk away to your respected activities, little did felix know was that you and nayeon would look back at each other as the distance between you two grew larger. 

—

in the several months that nayeon had walked into your life, courtesy of your brother, you found yourself indulging with nayeon more and more with the gatherings that you were assigned to oversee. 

“you don’t have to be in guard mode all the time y/n. you need to let loose sometimes like the rest of us.”

“with all due respect princess, it’s my duty to ensure the protection for you and everyone’s safety at these events.”

nayeon tsks with her mouth, leaning over to you purposefully, spilling her drink over your shoe, making you gasp out loudly over the crowds noise. 

“princes- nayeon what the fuck?!”

she laughs, hysterically.

“it’s always nice for you to have this so called responsibility to protect me, but you’re no fun if you’re just gonna stand there all tainted clad in armor. you want to drink and indulge with the rest of us don’t ya?”

“i’d give you an earful for staining my armor, but i'll save that for another time the next time i see you.”

nayeon grabs you by the hand, leading you away from your post in the garden, to a gate that leads to one of the outer concourses of the castle, an area that would be secluded for you two to get away at.

“if you want to have fun, let me get to know you more.” nayeon says, opening the gate that shows a visible trail—-away from the crowd with the woman that you’ve been interacted with that’s your brothers love interest. 

“i’ll follow you along, princess.” you say happily, extending out your hand to hers, holding her dress as you two walk down the path together. 

—

those meetings with her happen so and so often, it was basically bound to be a regular thing regardless the second you guys are in close proximity to each other. felix would be puzzled because of how you two would return together before he would see nayeon off into the night. he would ask you every now and then but most of the time you assured him that nothing bad was happening with her. 

on winter one night just like the other nights before, you’ve grown to like nayeon. you stand there idly, while the gentle specks of snow sprinkle over your guard uniform, eyes fixed on the sight of her walking down the grand staircase, arm in arm with your brother, her fiance, face radiant with a bright glow that nearly causes you to double over in gazing. 

beautiful, you wonder. she’s always been so beautiful. a small part in your mind knew it was wrong to pine after the potential connection to the nation’s throne like this, especially since you had some sort of status but the title of a disgraced member of the bloodline, who should be blessed to be in the graces of her presence. 

nayeon was different. there was no denying that. you saw the way her brow furrowed in question when both of your fathers and your brother preached that the war was the only way to achieve peace, or the way she’d beg you to accompany her as she snuck out to get away from the talks of politics. 

“we could get caught by doing this.” you whisper, helping nayeon get on the horse. 

“isn’t this supposed to be fun to you? to live with a little danger once in a while?” nayeon reoplies, wrapping her arms around your waist as you ride straight to the horizon. 

you would feel nayeon’s eyes searching for you every meeting, the way her face would be mirroring different expressions of your parents speaking to each other, causing you to snort out loud leading to getting scolded by everyone in the room. 

there was no denying your jealousy for your brother, felix, it was only natural that he would be the one to court her into a marriage while you just stood back and watched the whole thing unfold. you were fond of nayeon when you first met her, she was sweet, very open, and pretty. 

you thought about the possibility of them extending the family in the future once marriage talks were all done and set, promises of a life that you could never give her. 

on one evening, it took every bone in your body to hold back watching various people argue over nayeon’s hand, and worried that she will agree to one. a selfish call was decided when you asked her to come with you quickly, blabbering that you needed to show her something that was important to you. 

“everything okay?” nayeon asked, as you led her up the steps to a closed off balcony in the castle. 

“yeah, i just wanted to show you something.” you answer, trying to hide the jealousy running through your veins. 

fumbling around the pockets and grabbing the key that you stole from the fellow gatekeeper who was a very nice person, you opened the door to the balcony that your parents had forbidden anyone from stepping foot on or seeing. 

nayeon gasped in amazement, face glowing by the moonlight and speechless to find the words that could describe the surprise you just unveiled to her. 

she then notices the vine riddled with roses near the edge, tending to the impressive collection as you followed her, plucking one out and placing it in her arms. 

“a gift for you, princess.” 

“thank you, my guard.” 

you two would spend hours on the balcony, looking down at the various plants and talk about old memories about people they knew. nayeon then turns your body to face you, the silence filling the air with the faint sound of crickets as she looks at you fiddling with a rose in your hands. 

“y/n, is there something that you wanted to tell me?” she asks, voice peeping through a slight hope. 

“uhh.” you begin. yes, i wanted to pull you away from the meeting to tell you that i am deeply and insanely in love with you. i want to take you away from this boring hell hole of a castle and give you a world at your heart’s desires, even if it were to kill me. “nothing, just the secret balcony that no one is allowed to come up to.” you boringly say. 

“ah, okay.” is all that nayeon says, and you walk her back down, head pounding with regret. 

you remember the different nights spent together before your brother proposed to nayeon, the night at the local bar, watching the group of people dance with the mixture of many instrumental tunes. it was all so goofy to think about, making silly expressions, spinning around mindlessly to the banjo and drums playing. you noticed how nayeon’s eyes were glowing with bliss. she hardly smiles like that, you think to yourself. 

“i’m jealous of you y/n.” she says to you one night, as you two quickly walk up the hill, the rain being merciless in pouring. 

“why? what makes you say that?” you enquire, noticing an empty shed outside the castle, dragging her inside. 

you notice her shoulders shivering, her silky brown hair sticking to her face, and her cheeks hinted with red from the cold. she had a scarf wrapped around her dress that wasn’t a viable layer to keep her warm and without a second thought, you slipped off your guard jacket and draped it around her shoulders. 

nayeon looks at you with fluttering lashes, eyes full of something that you just didn’t know or notice. 

“about your question from earlier.” she starts, tightening your jacket around her body. “i’ve always been jealous of how you could just live for yourself, not being forced to follow the ridiculous rules that are expected for a royal member.” 

you pause, unsure of what to say after. 

“you have the right to live for yourself.” you say, after a brief moment of silence. nayeon’s laugh fills your ears, before taking a step closer to you.

“you’re funny, you know that?” nayeon whispers to you, leaving you confused. “maybe i could live for myself, refuse the royal livelihood and marry whoever i want.” eyes flickering to you as she says the last couple of words. 

the last sentence stabs your heart, like losing a joust without the armor. you knew that your time was ticking with her, and she’d eventually marry your brother felix. you and her would still see each other, but the heavenly restriction would only just keep you two apart. it wasn’t over just yet, but you wanted this to last a little bit longer. 

nayeon tiptoes a bit, glancing at your eyes before trailing down to your soft lips. you catch yourself leaning in closer, feeling the strong urge to meet them, to show how badly you loved her, and how you may just be part of the royal guard, but you would kill to be with her, and run away to some place where she could be truly happy. 

reality comes calling and you stop, pulling away to point at the window next to you two,

“the rain stopped.” you say, heart beating rapidly but also melting away with regret, again. 

“oh.” is all that’s heard from nayeon’s mouth, and they walk back to the castle in silence, neither of you willing to address the thick fog of confusion and tension hanging within the air.

you drag yourself back to the present with a few blinks as you stood there, on guard, waiting to hear to what the major announcement was. 

“my fellow subjects!” you hear your father exclaim out, everyone in the hall came to a standstill including nayeon and her family, and you suddenly realize that the marriage wasn’t announced to the public yet. 

“in a momentous celebration to commemorate our victory in the war, my prince will marry the lovely princess nayeon of the im dynasty!” 

a white screech pierces your ears, drowning out the cheers as the whole world around you just crumbled. heart heavy and your legs turn into jelly. this has to be a trick right? your eyes try to meet with nayeon’s but she was frozen with the reminder, still as a painting, and your head spins. 

the people were cheering and hugging each other, as you keep the order in the hall, your father’s words still pounding in your ears. 

—

later that night, you stand outside nayeon’s door, questioning yourself if this was the right move to see her or not. your mind had a protocol to follow, but all of that was in the back of your mind since you only knew one thing—you had to see her. 

so you knock twice, before you hear the gentle voice on the other side of the door prompting you to come in, and you enter, walking straight to sit on the edge of her bed. right beside her, as always. 

“princess nayeon.” you say, sitting next to her like a dog with its owner, eyes locked on her and only her. 

“just nayeon y/n, i have to keep reminding you every day.” she jokes, tapping your shoulder, making you tense but you gather your thoughts. 

“we already knew, but this pretty much makes this official doesn’t it, marrying my brother felix?” you ask, voice slightly breaking from an emotion that you still couldn’t fathom to understand. 

“i don’t have a choice. but if this is their step towards celebrating peace, then i can’t do much about it.” nayeon mumbles, leaning forward on the bed, face crestfallen. 

she looks so sad, you think to yourself, and your heart was breaking for her. the guard role and title didn’t matter to you since you genuinely wanted to comfort her, taking nayeon into your arms, promising her that she would always be safe with you, saying that you’ll love her for lifetimes and many different universes. 

you open your mouth, like a grunt escaping your lips, causing nayeon to look up at you. you clear your throat soon after, and you catch yourself staring at her for a few minutes. it was all so usual for you to do, and you stand up to walk to the window, still having no words. 

“what is it y/n?” nayeon asks, face beet red.

“nayeon.” you whisper, kneeling in front of her at the bed again, placing your arms on both sides of her legs. “i know this is wrong for me to say this, but you have every right to punish me for the words i’m about to say to you, but princess, i am madly and deeply in love with you.” 

nayeon’s mouth drops, and you look away, excusing yourself to leave, the regret from your words no longer there but this was against everything you took an oath for as her in the name of the elite guard. nayeon places a hand on your arm, causing you to kneel in front of her again. 

“what do you mean by that? for how long?” nayeon asks, unable to decide which question was more pressing to you. 

“since i met you for the first time and laid eyes on you. i feel like we’ve been in this situation before in another time that i can’t explain.” you try to explain, knowing that the words probably wouldn’t make sense but you had to give your reason in your love for her. “i’m so happy that it’s you that i love. the world feels a little lighter whenever we look at each other, calming my nerves that’s turning inside me, and i don’t want anything more for us to hide away from the world and be in love together, alone.” 

nayeon tilts your head up with her long, soft fingers, and notices the way you still refuse to make eye contact with her. 

“y/n.” she whispers, leaning her face closer, causing your forehead to touch with hers, “look at me.” 

always astute to follow orders, and you look at her, nayeon leans in, placing a soft kiss on your lips. this broke the drawbridge within you, wrapping your arms around her, shifting the position so that you were above, the kiss becoming more and more desperate by the second since the both of you knew that time was running out. 

your lips move down to her neck, placing small pecks all over the area, your warm breath lingering over her collarbones. you reach to her chest, and the vein in your neck twitches from a simple look at her breasts, causing your body to overcome with oozing lust.

holding yourself back, you sit up, lips swollen and red, trying to collect your breath as you look down at nayeon’s messy hair, lips like yours, desire pulling you in for more. 

placing your hands between her face, “i love you so much.” you mumble in between the kiss, causing nayeon to giggle against you.

“i have too, you idiot. i’ve been waiting for you to notice for so long.” she says, and you could legitimately die from that moment she said that to you. 

“let me rephrase, i’ve wanted you for so long.” you whisper, lips grazing her chest.

“why don’t you show me how much you’ve always wanted me.” 

nayeon’s fingers laced with yours, taking extra care as you showered every part of her body with soft, loving kisses as soft moans are falling out of nayeon’s mouth. 

“i have,” you mutter between kisses again, “never done this before.” you say breathlessly, nayeon scratching your hair out of affection.

“this is also my first.” she laughs out, and tugs at your collar. “get this off, now.” 

the next few minutes are filled with stripping, and you guide nayeon to lay on her back again, the soft moonlight breaking through the curtains illuminating her nude body. you gasp in rapture, unable to control yourself any longer. 

you gently slide nayeon’s legs open, tracing patterns with your lips on her inner thighs, eyes locked on ther face, the want to give her nothing but pleasure, the only objective in your mind right now.

tracing your finger along her wet folds, she gasps when you insert a finger inside of her, causing nayeon to moan and throw her head back against the pillow. you slow your pace with another finger, rubbing her clit in between the motion, eyes filled with a loving haze. your cunt was throbbing at the sound of her moans filling up the room, you just wanted to make her feel good. 

“i need-” nayeon says suddenly, “your mouth, please.” 

you happily oblige, latching your lips to her pussy, causing her to groan out louder as she grasps the back of your head. humming into her leaking core, you insert your fingers inside of her, legs twitching at the new stimulus clouding her mind as she’s lost in the pleasurable contact from you. 

“you’re mine only.” you whisper out before diving back into her pussy, tongue slicing through the center as you feel nayeon’s back arching off from the mattress. she was going to cum sooner thatn you think, the rhythm of your mouth doubling back in pace. you shoot yourself off from her pussy, kissing her cheek as you continue to pump your fingers inside of her. 

“to think that you’d marry my brother, he won’t love you the way that i do.” 

you mutter those hot words into her mouth, pinching her clit as well as pressing past her g-spot causing nayeon to finally come undone, holding her for dear life soon after she’s recovered, almost worried that they’ll be ripped away from each other, mumbling declarations of love over and over again in the ungodly hours of the night. 

—

the next few weeks that passed were exchanges of stolen kisses and escapes to the outer field and courtyards, much like teenagers with the way they expressed their newly blossomed love. 

you and nayeon weren’t complete fools though, and neither of you wanted to address the preparing marriage. nayeon just pretended that it didn’t exist in her mind, whereas the thought of it crossing your head drew out a sense of jealousy for your brother. 

on one night, after another round of love, nayeon sucking the core out of you, her head is found on your chest, twiddling her fingers across your breasts and the bud of your exposed nipple, quietly listening to your beating heart. 

your fingers were laced in her hair, ears filled by the gentle breaths breezing through your nostrils. 

“you should run away with me.” you propose suddenly, sitting up with nayeon’s hand with yours. “i may not offer much, but i promise to give you everything that you want and need.” 

“i don’t need anything but you, and i’m fine exactly right where i am.” nayeon mumbles, making your throw a dumb smile across your lips. 

—

you pace around your living quarters with a surge of excitement. in just a few hours, you’ll leave this godforsaken place, hand in hand with nayeon as you embark on a new life of freedom over the chained life of royalty. 

as you walked to her bedroom in your family’s castle, hands tightly holdling a small box in your pocket, you hear your name being called that makes you stop in your tracks, turning around to see your father and brother walking towards you, face wearing an unusual smile. 

“y/n.” your father says, opening a door that was a few steps down from nayeon’s. “we need to have a talk about something important, come.” 

you nod, following orders without bearing a question past your lips. 

the door closes and your brother takes his place next to your seated father, you standing across from them—a confrontation that could only spell disaster. 

“felix here has been telling me that you’ve been fooling around with his fiance.” he starts off saying, face looking cross with a harsh tone welded to the words. 

“with all due respect sir,” your father knew that he hated the formality that you put up whenever talking to him, “i wasn’t fooling around. i love nayeon, sincerely.” 

“not for long you are.” your father scoffs out, your brother looking down with a bleak smirk on his face. 

“what is the meaning of this?” you ask, standing your ground, fists loaded. 

“it’s quite simple for you isn’t it y/n?” felix says, almost mocking your attitude. “you love nayeon so much that you’d do anything for her?” 

“without question.” 

“then we order you to do something for us.” your father says again, leaning closer. “you tell nayeon that you don’t love her, and she gets married to your brother. she’ll be able to live a life of wealth and grandeur, and you’ll be cut off from the family entirely.” 

“and if i refuse?” 

“she’ll die on the degree of treason. not you though, since the judgment for you would be living the reset of your life knowing that your actions led to the demise of the person you loved dearly. remember, i have eyes and ears spread across this kingdom. you and nayeon will never live in peace.” 

you wanted to scream, defy against your father and brother, bolt to nayeon’s room and get out of the place you despised so much. but you were smart about this, how else did you get into the family’s elite guard in the first place. your father would be able to find you both and you couldn’t do anything to get nayeon hurt because of you.

“okay.” you finally say, surrendering to your dad’s power. “i’ll accept your terms.” 

“good, felix take y/n on your way out will ya?” your father replies, satisfied with the decision. as felix grabs you by the shoulders, ushering your way out and down the steps. 

you and felix stayed silent as the both of you made your way to the dining commons, fighting back tears from the events that just happened about twenty minutes ago still fresh in your mind. 

“you know, nayeon asked me for my permission about you.” felix says out of nowhere, making you stop in your tracks, facing him at the surprise confession. 

"what?"

“i’ve seen the way she looks at you, her and i have known each other since we were little. but when she saw you that day, her eyes looked so different compared to when she’s with me.” 

you fight back tears that were about to spill from your eyes, biting your inner cheek, knowing that this was all too late to salvage anything from this point. 

“i was never in the right position for her anyway.” you say, “we both know that i was never fit to be royal material, that’s why i joined the elite guard.” 

“i’m sorry y/n. i really am.” felix replies, “maybe if things were different with how everything is, all of this wouldn’t have happened.”

“felix, it’s fine.” 

“i just wish we had a different scenario for the both of us.” he says to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, not willing to meet his eyes. “you’ll find someone like you, eventually.” 

you clench your jaw at the last sentence, frothing internally from the comment your brother just uttered, fist ready to break the nearby pillar next to you. 

—

a day later after the confrontation with your father, you walk towards nayeon’s room once again, mind numb as the words rang in your head. the only way to protect nayeon was to destroy her, and you let out a bitter laugh at the cruel joke your mind just constructed upon yourself. 

“y/n!” nayeon gasps, rushing towards you and engulfing you in a tight hug. you look down at the princess who had a blissful face. were things supposed to end like this? to rip her heart to shreds? the one you fought so hard to win? 

you stood still, like a stone, face stern with a mixture of emotions swimming underneath. nayeon notices this unusual behavior, and places a hand on your chest.

“my love, are you okay?” she asks you, and you take a sigh before taking a step back, waving her hand off your chest, confusing her. 

“i think, i have to confess something to you.” you state, trying not to meet eyes with hers. 

“what are you talking about?” 

“all of this,” you say, waving your finger between you two, “everything that i said and did, it was never meaningful or real.” you almost choke on the words you forced yourself to utter out. 

“so you’re saying is–” nayeon cuts herself off, voice breaking before even finishing the sentence. 

“fuck, i’m trying to say that i never loved you, okay?! this wasn’t all supposed to happen in the first place. all of it.” you regret the words as soon as they leave your lips.

nayeon’s eyes widened, biting her lip, fighting the urge to cry in front of the people she didn’t trust. you clasp your arm, doing everything in your willpower to not comfort her. 

“of course, that’s how it is then is it?” she laughs out bitterly, sitting on the edge of her bed, face full of hurt. “all of this was just to mess with the esteemed princess and ruin everything good that’s happened in her life for the past weeks. this just proves everything that i feared about you.” 

you stood there, not letting the resolve break you in front of nayeon. 

“nay-” 

“get the fuck out.” nayeon yells urgently, and you turn away in a flash, door slamming behind you as you stumble on the steps once alone. 

—

weddings, they’re the worst. 

you stand there at the beginning of the ceremony besides the bridesmaids, the only girl there wearing a suit, hands clasped together as you watch nayeon walk down the aisle, hugging her father before facing your brother, her new husband to be. 

she looked so ethereal to look at, and you were fighting your inner conscience, wishing that you were in felix’s place instead, hearing the exchange of vows—the agreement of a lifetime of love and security with her. instead, here you are, on the sidelines, nothing but a mere member of the audience, trading your love for the promise of keeping her safe. 

you wanted to object, defy the presentation and speak your truth, taking nayeon down the aisle and away from everything that you spoke in your bedside talk with her. now, you just watched as felix and nayeon share a kiss, and they both walk down—arm in arm with her new husband and she offers a fake smile to everyone, you always knew that her eyes would always light up when she was smiling with genuine intent, and avoids looking at you. 

the reception was at the nearby hall next to the chapel, holding the box in your hands in a secluded corner away from the crowd. your father calls you over, seeing your mother and felix stand beside him, pressing your lips knowing the gravity of the situation from this point on. 

you move past the three across from you, your father signaling the guards waiting at the doors to be shut  once you were outside, closing you off from the family and nayeon from your life forever. 

[gremlingottoosilly]

The Horror and The Wild [Emperor!Konig x fem!Reader] Medieval Fantasy AU (ch.4)

You had a nice, simple life. Serve the princess, obey the princess, protect the princess with your life. You never thought that this nice, simple life would bring you to be kidnapped by the infamous Northern Emperor. Konig never thought that kidnapping a wife would be much easier than courting one.

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2| Chapter 3| Chapter 4| you're here! AO3 Word count: 3469 Tags/Warnings: Medieval fantasy/Alternative European history AU, Age gap, Enemies(one-sided)to lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Forced marriage, Size difference(Konig is absolutely huge), Somewhat one-sided slow burn, Yandere Konig Warnings for this chapter: Dub-con oral sex(f!receiving), outdated views regarding sex

— Now, dear princess, your husband will expect certain…qualities of his wife. Please, you must listen to this as closely as possible if we want to avoid…traumas. 

You pout, eating the apple that was provided to you by a group of servants who looked way too scared to be appointed to a princess. If Her Highness saw this, she would order them whipped – a servant shall never look unhappy in front of their patron, as not to invoke nasty feelings of sadness, misery, and empathy in the royal rulers. Princess made you smile and laugh through hours of her extensive, albeit a bit improvised and amateur, singing. You were to hold her hair while she was doing it, listening to the melodies of desire to escape the castle. 

The servants in front of you were sent by the Emperor – König, to…teach you something. You were not too interested in his, way too invested in weird fruits from foreign countries that they provided – still, you are too well-mannered to ignore them. 

— Traumas? Is his Emperor’s Illustrosicy going to torture me? 

Servants look over at each other, nervous. You tilt your head to the side, trying to see if you can decipher their gazes – but you see nothing but sympathy. Sad, miserable kind. Your blood runs cold as you get another bite of that apple. 

— You’re as innocent as Emperor said, your Majesty. 

You weren’t, in reality – you’re a liar, a traitor to your nation, the only one of the servants who was too scared to die alongside the royal family and performed that foolish gamble in order for a chance to save your hide. Such silly things like an untouchable hymen between your legs or lack of knowledge of intimacy, saved for a few books, are nothing compared to the life you are saving in your mind, There is nothing innocent about you or your actions. 

— W…well, you see…you are of child-bearing age. 

That was up for discussion. You might be an adult by all standards, a bit too ripe even, too sheltered for the age in which young men are already taking their family’s businesses and women are giving birth to their second and third children, but it doesn’t mean you want to bear someone’s kid. Definitely not conceive from a man who destroyed your future. 

— I won’t do it. 

You act like a princess would – bratty and pouty, all the new dresses and the room they place you in acting like a perpetuar of your ego. 

— My Lady, this isn’t up for discussion. Please, we need to…we need to teach you how to do it, in order to prevent…accidents. 

— What accidents? 

The other servant, an older lady with tired eyes and snappy gestures, took out a pile of drawings from the bag she was holding. Quite a lot of drawings. Quite detailed drawings. Quite nasty drawings. 

Quite…bloody drawings. 

Gods, is this what a woman must endure during lovemaking? Is this even lovemaking, or is this a dissection straight from the medical book? The drawings are lewd and horrifying – whoever was the artist, they didn’t spare the details of the act. Pain, blood, torn flesh…god, if they wanted you to learn how to take your husband properly, they did a horrible job – now you don’t ever want to see him again. Not without armor plates protecting…that thing. 

— I w…won’t do it. Behead me this instant.

Your voice is weak, horrified. Servants look equally scared. 

— Your Majesty, you must know that it’s just…the worst outcome. If you listen to your lessons and relax, you will escape such a fate. 

— How could a living being relax while they are being impaled on a spear?!

— With certain balms and extracts, such fate can be escaped. 

— How can a balm prevent this?! Too angry to ever listen to the servants, you drip the drawings from your hands, along with a half-eaten apple. Un-ladylike, but you need to preserve your life – and your dignity – before they would show you even more horrifying things that would never let you sleep again. Tugging on the heaviness of your skirt, you ran to the nearest hallway as soon as possible. 

The emperor’s palace is disgustingly big and dark – you’d say it was magnificent in that scary, gothic style, but you don’t have the time to think about all the artistic choices that the architects made by installing so many dark hallways in a place that suppose to protect Emperor from possible assassins. Still, you drop to the nearest dark corner, hoping that no one will follow you. 

With a calm sigh, you brush the dust from your skirts. God, you had to bring that apple with you – it was delicious. 

— I never heard anyone calling my cock  a spear before, Liebling. You’re full of surprises. 

Big, gloved hands are enveloping your waist, putting you in the hug you didn’t want. This embrace is all too familiar and too terrifying – you forget that this castle serves the only true owner, and your desire to escape will never be considered an option. Like a rabbit in the wolf’s mouth, you freeze. The worst company you could expect after such a horrifying lesson – your only hope is that, like men from the novels you and Princess were reading sometimes, The Emperor was into his comrades more than he would be into you. 

His warm hands, pulling you into a tight hug against his body, however, make you think otherwise. 

— Let go of me! Pl…please. 

You plead because the drawings installed a new fear into your body. You're not afraid of death – if anything, you wish for it. However, the fait of constant pain and suffering which each nightly visit makes you more terrified than any death sentence would. 

König only laughs, holding you as close to him as possible. A warm hand grazes over your stomach, making you shiver from anticipation. You don’t know what he is thinking about – you also don’t want to. 

— Why would I let go of my precious wife? 

— I’m not your wife yet. 

— And won’t be for quite a while, considering the lessons my servants taught you? 

Blood drains from your face. Even the slightest reminder makes you whimper – like a puppy without its mother, you let go of a pathetic little sound, and your face finds comfort in the armor plates that Knog wears even in many of his castles. Cold metal makes you slightly calmer, and you can force the dreams of touching his chest instead of deep in your mind. Bane to all the lewdness, as you saw the amount of blood it would drain from your body. 

— I will never succumb to such fate. 

— I promise it won’t be that bad. I can whip my servants for installing fear in you if you want to, little princess. 

No matter how scared they made you feel, you will never bestow such fate on any of the servants – you, perhaps, the only one who knows how hard and horrible work as a lady in waiting might be. You might not be the perfect princess, but you certainly aren’t a cruel one. 

— No. They…they shall not be harmed, Your Majesty. 

He chuckles, pushing a hand on your face. A few tears fall down your cheeks – he drains them with his gloved finger, making you whimper only more. God, you look divine like this – eyes are glistening with tears, the face is hot from fear and embarrassment, the mouth is open with a sweet little pout…it takes every last inch of his self-control not to simply pick you up and bring you to his bedroom before you could say anything. 

— You’re kind for a princess. 

There is suspicion in his voice – but you quickly try to brush it away by forcing yourself out of his embrace. Unfortunately, he only holds you tighter, making you bury your face in his armor again. To be honest, it’s not the worst place to be. 

— Shouldn’t you be in the courtroom? 

— I ran. Never liked to greet new people. 

You almost choke on your breath. Is he serious?! His face betrays his emotions – despite how confident his mask is, you can see that his eyes are colder than usual. More nervous than usual. His hands are shaking, if only for a little bit, holding you tight, as you can simply escape through his fingers like sand. You’d love to have such powers. 

— I thought the Emperor had responded. 

— I do. And an army of men to do these responsibilities for me. 

— You’re hiding from my country’s Ambassadors? 

— Collaborators and traitors of your people, yes. The only ambassador I care about is in my hands. 

With this, he quickly pushes you up in his hands, forcing you to sit on the cold stone ledge. The new dress design makes it possible to manipulate and move the skirt as he pleases – you hate this new fashion because it makes it ridiculously easy for König to simply push your skirt upwards, revealing your legs and your dignity, concealed by only a pair of short, frilly white underpants with so many bows and ribbons, it feels obscene. 

You try to kick him in the face, but he catches your ankle before you can do anything. He was a horrible, terrible man – totally unfit for the ruler of half of the world, you have no idea how a man this villainous could still be held in high regard for his people. This place is just as barbaric as their ruler, you presume – no dignity or sense of taste as König holds your skirt up, tearing apart the delicate fabric. God, it probably cost a fortune! 

Emerald green fabric lays like green ocean waves under your legs. You must admit, even the cold of the inner parts of the palace does not make you feel uncomfortable – if anything, this moment of exposure of your legs makes you feel a bit more comfortable and fresh. The light breeze caresses your legs, and you almost want to close your eyes and just enjoy wearing clothes without the stuffiness of the full gown. 

With your corset, torn skirt, and underpants, you almost feel like you’re wearing pants – an obscene picture, you assume, a lady should never show her ankles to anyone but her husband…and you would do everything to stop him from being marked as one. Still, König places his large imposing body between your legs, and you panic immediately – is this monster terrible enough to show you what those illustrations meant, not even in the comfort of a marriage bed, but in the coldness of the stone hallway? You close your eyes, kicking him to your heart’s content – and he is laughing every time you’re trying to resist, only catching both of your ankles in his grip and forcing them open. God, this is the end. Torture that you never wanted to experience will be bestowed upon you right about…

His tongue goes to rub you through the rough fabric of your underpants. Dispute all the layers of expensive material, your maidenhood feels like it had been set on fire. 

You are suddenly aware of the silly things you have between your legs. You can feel them too well right now – every second of movement of his tongue against sensitive flesh makes your legs kick him less and less. Your nails are trying to dig into the stone of a small ledge you were sitting on – but you can’t do anything to stop this sweet torture he is perpetuating. You want for everything to stop this instant, and you want for him to finally take off your undergarments. 

— Wh…wha…what are you doing?! You don’t scream as loud as you can, only because you know that the maids are nearby and you don’t want to be making a scene. Putting the emperor back in his place and revealing him as a pervert would be nice, of course – but it wasn’t as nice as having your dignity saved. You bite your lips, feeble attempts to save at least parts of yourself – still, you feel like you’re being boiled alive by his masterful tongue, without even the need to bring your pants down and feel him on your flesh directly. 

— I want to show you how nice this could be. 

— How nice what could be?! You are still kicking your legs, and he is slowly taking down the fabric of your underpants. You wish he had exposed hair so you could tug on it – you wish he wasn’t afraid of showing you his face, just so you could break it properly. A lady should always protect her virginity from a man with evil intentions, and König was certainly the most evil person of them all. 

Still, his tongue felt so good, circling around the parts you were only finding accidentally, blindly searching for pleasure like a dumb kitten, trying every little button in your body to see what would make you squirm. He is masterful at this, every action is deliberate and strong – every little thing in his movements makes you wonder just how many women he bedded. 

You can still feel the little tremble in his hands, his fingers that supported you and kept your legs apart are trembling, if only just a bit – you wonder if he truly is nervous about everything he is doing or if he just wants to make everything perfect. His touch leaves a trail of bruises on your inner thighs and you never thought that you’d yearn for a man whose touch is literally hurting you. 

— I know how to make… consumation go painless, little princess. Certainly have the experience for this. 

— Is fondling my undergarments a part of this experience, Your Highness? 

— If you wish for me to lost my control, little princess.

Before you could say anything else about not wanting for him to simply take off your underpants and throw them on the cold floor of the castle, he had already lowered them to hang around your ankles – revealing your sensitive folds, already glossy and wet from all the fondling he performed to make you nice and ready for him. 

König knew he shouldn’t be doing this – losing control would be too easy in this case. Little princess, out of her own depth, can barely stop him when he wants to take something precious from her – still, he wanted to at least try to be slower, softer, to make everything perfect and make her his precious trophy. Her dread over bedding him would prove horrible for their marriage – if she didn’t wish for the workers to be saved, he would already sent those dumb maids away. 

Princess is adult enough to learn the pleasures of being a woman – still, he understood why a king would want to hide a precious flower like this. You don’t behave like a spoiled brat would, no matter how much you want to make him think you were nothing but a pouty face and frowned brows, and he wants to see your true self – your inner nature, revealing itself in front of him. And he knows just a way to do this…

Your cunt is perfect – he is a soldier, a man of war and little romance, he can’t sing you a song of how beautiful and perfect your maidenhood is, but he can lick it and tease it and make you come on his tongue more than you ever could with that dainty fingers of yours. 

He isn’t ashamed of touching your sweetness when he is burning his face between your legs. Not even caring that his hood, which he had to draw back as fast as possible, is going to get messy with all o your juices, he licks and tugs on your clit, your folds, on every sensitive bit of skin of your body. 

And, by god, are you sensitive? 

Soon, your little cries of pleasure are turning into moans that you are pathetically trying to hide. Soon you are marking his rough, rugged face wet with your juices – his nose is pressed on your clit constantly, and that well-mannered, perfectly bred royal woman in your body is moaning like a common whore. 

König isn’t trying to be too gentle – his mind is filled with that boyish nerves and anxiety, the fear of getting spotted not because anyone would have anything to say to the literally fucking emperor, but because he doesn’t want anyone else to see how easily he can drown little princess in pleasure. She is a perfect girl, so pretty for him, so nice and wet when he pushes his tongue in and out. 

He forgot the last time he experienced such pleasure – his dick only grows with each gentle stroke of tongue in your folds, and he doesn’t even need to touch himself. You’re perfect for him, writhing under his touch, he had to force himself to stop putting too much pressure on your poor swollen clit. König almost forgot just how sensitive you are – he had to introduce you slowly to the world of pleasure, not pushing you into the depths before you could even get married, but…well, he was never one to follow the rules – and you, as his precious bride, deserved something nice outside of the wedlock. 

— St…stop, it’s t’ much…

You are mumbling, holding his hood in your hands, and he is almost afraid you are going to pull it to reveal his face even more – but even your ruined skirt is enough of a cover to make his identity concealed, and he isn’t afraid of pushing your gummy walls with his tongue, gently caressing your insides. 

You are clenching around his tongue, the intrusion is unfamiliar to you – he makes sure he kisses your clit from time to time, holding the sensitive bud between his teeth so as to threaten you gently. He usually involves a lot more biting and would love to put some permanent marks on your thighs and soft lower tummy, but if you were scared of the drawings those dumb maids put on to you, he doesn’t want to fuel your fear any further. He could try later, making your perfect body into a canvas for his desire. 

— Patience is a grace for a princess, ja? Be patient, Meine Liebe. 

— Pl…please, stop, I don’t…

— What is it? 

— It’s too much, you shouldn’t…

— I’m not claiming you yet. God won’t be against a bit of fun, Schatzi. 

— I’m against it…

— Your moans tell another story, little princess.

He knows you don’t want to be patient – he tugs at every nerve inside your body, his tongue swings in and out, and his lips caress your soft folds, collecting any juice that might be escaping. He will have to gift you another dress after this – but he is so used to seeing you in torn clothes it becomes a thing that stirs his manhood again and again. You look perfect when you’re not perfect – by god, he is unable to control himself. 

You whine lightly as he presses a final kiss to your clit, catching your orgasm and drinking your pleasure. He is a messy eater through and through – his stubble makes you whimper from sensitivity, you sob lightly as he pushes back, a hood returning to conceal his face before your dazed eyes would be able to catch him. 

Hell, you look precious. 

Panting, with sweat beads glossy on your skin, with your lips open and moans escaping it – with your face completely turned into an expression of enormous pleasure, he doesn’t know what to do with himself as he watches you breathe heavily, chest going up and down. If he could, he would chain you to a bed in his bedroom, not ever allowing your precious figure to escape. 

He might just do this when you’re married.

You whimper under him, your eyes are still glazed with that pleasurable expression, making him smile under his hood. You may hate him all you want, but he sees the truth – knows just how perfect you are in your stubborn desire to defy him. 

— Wh…what was it? 

You are still shocked but regain some of your senses – you take on your underpants quickly, stubbornness spreading across your warm, embarrassed face. How he loves that expression. 

— I wanted to show you that our wedding night wouldn’t be as bad. 

— I would rather live without a wedding night, Your Majesty. 

— Now, was it that bad? 

You tilt your head to the side. 

— I am not here to feed your ego. 

— You’re sure it is feeding my other senses. 

He brushes his hand over your face. You allow him to – not because you wanted his touch, but because you needed some time to think, and his touch was gentle enough to ignore. Yes. That is the truth.

[504py]

Candlelight and Calluses - Knight!Leon Kennedy/Reader

A particularly unruly thunderstorm begs you to ask your knight to stay by your bedside, just for a little bit.

i see quite a bit of bodyguard leon fics so i always thought he'd fit into a knight au rather well. art by me!!

Historical inaccuracies, I'm terrible at old-timey speak LOL, reader referred to as "my lady" but no other gendered terms or descriptors besides that, no use of Y/N, relationship is dubious so this could be seen as platonic, romantic, or however you'd like.

1, 2, 3

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It seemed like life would continue like normal after your former knight was discharged for stealing from your mother, and Leon came to replace him. He definitely feels more trained, more skilled, more refined, someone very reliable, so you can see how he was hired so quickly.

Somehow, you just can't get used to his presence, though.

You see him at very scheduled times of day. He sleeps in a room close to yours, mother said its safer to have him closer at night in case someone breaks in. If you're awake early enough, you can catch him leaving his room. You see him training in the courtyard through the window you pass by when you head to the kitchen. He always escorts you to your bedroom and says goodnight when you decide to call it a day, and stays posted near your door for a few minutes, before retreating to his own for the night.

Tonight, you ask him to stay just a little longer. Rainy days never really bothered you, but the thunder today was particularly bad. It was painfully loud and booming, each strike and roar making you flinch in the anticipation that the ceiling might cave in on you any moment and swallow you whole. You knew he was there to protect you, that's the main reason he was here, but your cheeks burned at the loss of your pride when you give him your request.

His expression, illuminated by the lantern in his hand and highlighting the sharp planes of his visage, is slightly different than usual at your query. His dark eyebrows are slightly raised, the frown on his lips not as deep as it usually is. His eyes are softer.

"Of course, my lady."

You head inside your bedroom, your sight settling on your nightwear set on your bed by one of your maids. You turn to Leon, asking that he leave while you change, but his back is already turned to you. You figure he got the hint, and you undress.

He's listening intently to the sounds of cloth shuffling, till he hears your weight dip your mattress, "Have you finished dressing, my lady?"

"Yes, I'm all done." You reply. Your voice is weaker than usual, perhaps scared that the thunderstorm will hear, and a crackling boom will respond, instead of Leon.

He turns back to you, seeming to pause for a moment, thinking of what to do. You've never seen him do that, perhaps this situation is new to him. That thought makes your face warm in shame.

"I... Shall I stay in the room, or shall I stay at my post, milady?" His voice is quieter than it usually is, too. Admittedly, it's a little hard to hear each other with how loud the rain is.

"If... If it would be alright, Sir Leon, could you stay by the side of my bed? Just until the storm subsides. I'd hate to keep you here for too long."

"It is no trouble to me, my lady, I promise."

He makes his way over to you, confidence in each step despite being so unfamiliar with such a strange, intimate request.

"...You can grab that chair by my vanity, Sir Leon, you don't have to stand."

He obliges, grabbing said chair and setting it by your bed.

He's dressed in a simple cream-colored linen blouse and trousers. You can see his neck. You breathe out a laugh realizing that this is probably the first time you've ever seen it. He wonders what you find amusing. You rarely ever see him without any armor on, maybe just a glimpse when he leaves his room in the morning, and even when he's not in full steel plating, he's usually donning chainmail.

"...Is it heavy?" You mumble, drowsily.

"What is, my lady?"

"The armor you wear. Is it heavy, Sir Leon?"

"Well... Not particularly, milady, but perhaps I've just gotten used to it. It does get hot, though."

"Mm..." You hum, "Always wanted to try it on, always wondered what it was like... I know mother and father won't let me, though." You chuckle.

Leon smiles a little, maybe the first time you've seen him do so. "Maybe I'll let you try on my helmet someday, milady."

"Really?" The drowsy smile you send him makes him feel warmer, "That'd be nice... I always thought the armor you knights wore looked so fashionable." Your eyes close.

He laughs slightly, and the sound is clearer now. Without realizing, the storm had passed, and you feel at ease. Leon waits a little longer, counting your breaths and seeing if your eyes will open again. He thinks the way your eyelashes rest against your cheeks look beautiful.

"Sir Leon?" You mumble, barely legible.

"Yes, milady?"

"Have a good night..." You add, before dozing off.

"You as well, my lady. Good night."

He waits a few minutes more, like he usually does when he escorts you to your door. He's never watched you sleep before, despite this being part of his nightly routine. He wishes a little more that thunderstorms would happen more habitually so he could do this more often.

Leon gets up, and quietly places your chair back to your vanity. He returns to take his lantern from your bedside table, and he pauses, watching you for a few beats more, before retreating to his bedroom for the night.

"...Calling me just Leon would be fine." He ends, with a whisper of your name.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

[mokulule]

Almanac - Chapter 4

DP x DC Dead on Main First | Masterpost Note: I made a new masterpost to subscribe to over on my new blog where I organize my writing @mokus-invenstory. Links on the other chapters have been updated, I will still notify on the old post with updates.

Chapter 4 - October 21-22nd, Orinoids Meteor Shower

Training with Fright Knight was an experience.

Jason was no stranger to harsh training regimes, but it seemed like Fright Knight truly had no other duties to attend to. And maybe that was what ghosts did? Find the one thing they were good at and then do it for all eternity? It was exhausting, unrelenting.

Every day he went to the kitchen to find a plate of breakfast ready, thankfully it wasn’t the same thing every day. He wondered if it was courtesy of the Lunch Lady, but he never saw anyone else and the cupboards and pantry were empty.

The mystery of who and how human food came to be here itched at him but as long as the magical castle felt reluctant to even let him get to the kitchen in the first place (he’d yet to walk a path quite the same there) it was something he would have to leave unexplored.

He ate and then as he was done as if summoned Fright Knight would collect him and drill him until he dropped.

The knight treated Jason as if he’d never held a sword before starting basic at stance and simple attacks repeated ad nauseum, with the occasional cardio and strength building exercises. While Jason preferred guns, hand to hand combat and occasionally knives, it wasn’t the first time he’d fought with a longer bladed weapon. His general training meant he could pick up most weapons and use them successfully so he thought it was rather unfair - not that he was fool enough to raise that opinion, this wasn’t the first stern training master he’d served under.

And arguably he didn’t have much experience with medieval style broadswords. So he sucked it up and did as ordered.

There were no breaks throughout the day, no more food. You’d think it was a form of torture that he didn’t get to eat more than breakfast, but Jason, while he got tired, never got hungry throughout the day. Apparently he got the rest of his needs covered through energy diffusion or some shit - assuming he’d understood the king correctly.

His waking moments were repetitive, but he was not bored as such. Not that he was enjoying himself either, but he was busy, occupied. Training and learning new skills were never a waste - he had to tell himself that. But when he laid in the barren room, which he still considered his prison, in those short moments before exhausted sleep claimed him, horror creeped in; horror that this would be the rest of his life.

Another day another drill.

The weight of the practice sword in his hand felt as familiar as breathing after 9 days of non stop practice.

“You are becoming complacent,” Fright Knights voice boomed as always from everywhere at once despite him clearly looming right in from of him.

Jason tilted his head regarding the knight for a moment. He wondered how much sass he could get away with.

“Well you could give me a challenge instead of this,” he returned evenly.

Somehow Jason had the distinct feeling the knight was smiling unseen in the darkness under the helmet.

“Very well,” his voice rumbled like a storm in the distance, setting all of Jason senses alert at the coming threat. His grip tightened on the practice sword.

The knight turned and flew over to set aside the neon green sword he carried at his side in favor of a practice sword in the weapons rack by the wall. For the first time since Jason had seen the knight kneel before his king, his feet touched ground.

He stalked towards Jason, a weight and realness to him now as the armored shoes clanged against the cobblestone. The hair at the back of Jason’s neck stood on end as the air charged with his approach. Every instinct in his body told him to be afraid. Someone with less combat experience might have frozen, Jason picked his guard up and turned so he made a smaller target.

The cobblestone knocked his breath out and his sword clattered across the stones. His ears rang and he could already feel his left eye swelling from where it had met an armored fist. Above him a couple of shooting stars shot across the clear sky in rapid succession before the Knight stepped close. He loomed above Jason and for one horrifying moment Jason thought he would ram the practice sword through him, blunt tip and all.

Instead the knight held out a hand.

Jason wet his dry lips and took the hand. He was pulled unceremoniously to his feet.

“Did you notice what I did?”

Not only did Jason notice that twist Fright Knight had done that had sent his sword flying, he very much felt the way he socked him in the face.

“Yes.” Jason had not expected he’d be dueling something like a fucking Kryptonian, nobody that size had the right to be so fast. The trick to fighting Kryptonians and people of that speed class was more in anticipating their moves rather than reacting to them, and more importantly coming prepared with something to incapacitate them with. Jason had no clue what might be Fright Knight’s weakness, probably wouldn’t be so easy as to laugh at him.

The knight nodded at his response.

“Good, now to counter.”

He then walked Jason through no less than five possible counters, to what was apparently a rather risky move he’d done - had he been alive at least. The counters were well and good, but as long as Jason had no way to counter the speed, the knight could repeat the move at his leisure.

Not that Jason pointed that out. No, Jason practiced dutifully and found himself seeing the stars multiple times that day. He got very well acquainted with the cobblestone. On the seventh meeting with the ground, he thought he saw a glimpse of light from a window high above the courtyard. He could have sworn it was the king watching, but as he got back to his feet and looked back up the light was gone. Maybe it had just been a reflection, a trick of the light from one of the many shooting stars.

Still, reminded of why he was here, his mood soured. Yes, Jason had put himself in this situation, but he’d expected to die for his sacrifice - and maybe that would have been too easy an out, but he’d certainly not expected to be discarded, like the unwanted possession he apparently was.

Resentment curled in his gut. Poor little king never wanting to have been summoned having to take Jason as payment. It was clearly such an ordeal.

Jason snarled getting back to his feet and for the first time he went on the attack. Fright Knight seemed amused, which only egged him on. Jason reached for the All-Blades but of course they didn’t manifest, because in this stupid place not even someone named fucking Fright Knight counted as true evil.

He let Jason wear himself out, disarmed him again, and punched him hilt first in the stomach. Jason crumpled over the practice sword and slid down to his knees, gasping for breath.

The knight considered him for a moment, waiting to see if he would get up again. When he didn’t, he made a minute shake of his head.

“You have spirit, but your mortal trappings do you no favors.”

Jason couldn’t help laughing at that. What was he supposed to do? Apologize for being alive?

“Blame your king.”

Oo o oO

That night Jason dreamt of Gotham, or more specifically of Crime Alley. Dick was patrolling in Jason’s absence, but he didn’t know the Alley like Jason did. He didn’t know of the small shadowed nook in that building that made for a perfect hidey hole. He didn’t see the gun pointed at him, didn’t move until the shot rent the air.

Jason sat up in bed gasping and shaking.

It was a dream, it was a stupid dream. He fumbled automatically for his phone, before he remembered, there was no way to make sure. He was stuck in the realm of the dead. It was a dream, he firmly reminded himself.

Still he shook and couldn’t bring himself to go back to sleep. Dick’s shocked face haunted him whenever he closed his eyes.

Gingerly he stepped out of bed. Clearly the order to keep Jason alive hadn’t kept the knight from beating him to hell and back. A particularly spectacular bruise mottled the side of his torso in purples and blues. From the twinging pain with every breath there was probably a few bent or broken ribs underneath that.

He walked to the bathroom, where he’d hung his clothes to dry after washing them in the sink. He reached out to touch them to find them cold and damp, a testament to how little sleep he’d managed. He shivered at just the thought of pulling them on, but he didn’t exactly have anything else to wear.

He couldn’t go back to sleep. He needed to move. That gun had been aimed for Dick’s head. It was just a dream, he reminded himself sternly. He needed to pull himself together.

Taking a deep breath he reached for his underwear first, pulling it on with a grimace. Disgusting was not a strong enough word, he thought grimly. He was cold and miserable by the time he’d finished dressing and trapped his damp socks in his boots and tied them.

Dressed, he left the room for the hallways, expecting the castle to give him a good walk around as usual - expect he’d barely walked down two hallways until a door revealed the kitchen. There was a cup sitting on the table in front of his usual place. Curious he walked over to pick up the steaming mug, he put it up to his nose and sniffed it. His eyebrows rose in surprise - hot cocoa.

He glanced around and like always saw no sign of the presence of anyone but himself. He took a sip and amended his earlier assessment with a hum of pleasure, this rich taste could only be hot chocolate. It sat warm in his belly and he found some of the restless energy leaving him. He sat down and allowed himself to relax. He held the cup with both hands and let the warmth seep into his fingers with a sigh.

Maybe the castle didn’t entirely hate him after all.

He sipped slowly, savoring the treat. The hot chocolate was good, it wasn’t quite Alfred’s but-

A wave of homesickness overtook him and he slumped forward in grief. Maybe Jason would manage to escape some day, but Alfred was not exactly young anymore. People died suddenly sometimes, even when they seemed healthy.

Jason wasn’t there anymore. He couldn’t check on his family. Not Alfred, not Dick (it was just a nightmare!) or anyone. A mocking laughter haunted him as if from a distance, a memory wanting to drown him. He clenched his fits tight, he wasn’t back there. He was here, property of the ghost king, safe.

Unlike everyone else.

The Joker was still in Gotham. Still alive despite everything, a threat to everyone and Jason was useless.

He was a fucking idiot. He’d sacrificed himself willingly, but he hadn’t expected to have to live with the choice.

Did that make him a coward too? On top of everything?

He stood. He couldn’t sit here. He had to move. Before he knew it he was walking through hallways, uncaring where they took him. Left, right, nothing mattered. He just had to move. He didn’t know how long it he walked until he found himself, breathing heavily, in front of a stairwell. There was something familiar about it. His eyes were drawn to the path down. He’d never chosen to go down before. There was something down there. He took a step forward.

“Jason.”

He froze and spun around at the echoey voice. It felt like all the breath left his body, sucked into the gravity of the king.

Toxic green eyes flicked from Jason to the stairwell. Dark brows drew together in a frown, and the shadows suddenly seemed darker, deeper, like places you could fall into and disappear never to be seen again.

He floated closer. The pressure increased. Jason locked his knees to keep standing. There was a siren blaring in his mind, a scream lasting an eternity. Cold fingers touched his swollen eye soothingly and Jason gasped, a quiet little intake of breath into his burning lungs.

He wanted to move away. He wanted to lean into it. He wanted- He did nothing.

The gloved tips of fingers became the flat of a palm cradling the side of his face oh so gentle. Jason felt wetness in his eyes and blinked. He couldn’t handle gentle right now. His skin tingled and the swelling fell. The king looked at him, green eyes sad.

“Are you okay?”

Was he okay!? Jason ripped away, fury finally breaking the spell.

“The Hell I am!” In his mind Dick’s shocked face, a second from being shot flashed, “my family could be hurt right now, dying-“ a crowbar dragged across a concrete floor, a terrible laughter skittered across his senses, and every hair stood on end- “tortured.”

Jason took a step forward into the king’s space, snarled, “and I can do nothing!” into his shocked face. Playing at innocence, as if Jason’s words were a surprise. As if he didn’t know exactly what he’d done. He had changed the wording, acting like he’d done Jason a great favor. He chose to keep him here, useless, powerless.

He stepped back. Looked at the king with anger gone cold. “Killing me would have been a mercy.”

Jason braced himself for the worst. He’d said his piece. He expected an explosion, a onesided fight, for his brain to melt out his ears, something other than the hollow eyed gaze only vaguely looking in his direction.

The lights flickered and finally the king seemed somewhat present in his body. He looked at Jason with the most neutral face in existence.

“I shall relieve you of my presence, goodnight.”

He flew casually over to the staircase and went up. It was only then Jason snapped out of it.

No! How dare he!

He ran after him, but of course he was gone. The cursed castle made sure of it. Jason wanted a fight and he would not even give him that! He punched the wall with a frustrated scream that cut off into a sob.

“Shit.” He rubbed angrily at his eyes. He was fucking pathetic. Couldn’t even pick a fight right.

Oo o oO

Fright Knight found him in the practice yard, doing drills, sweaty and shaking from exhaustion.

“You are pathetic human, sit down before you fall down.”

Jason glared. “No.”

The knight promptly pushed him down on his ass. “Do not test me. I was tasked to keep you alive. Drink.”

A bottle of water was shoved into his hands.

Mulishly Jason did as he was told. It was only when he’d taken the first sip he realized just how thirsty he was and he had to force himself not to just chug the entire bottle in one go.

Fright Knight watched him with that detached disgust he had for mortal weaknesses, like the need for sleep or in this case sustenance. He was a fucking annoying, stuck up bastard, but-

“Why are you not evil?” Jason asked in frustration, too emotionally worn to consider whether that was a smart question to ask. If he had been evil, Jason could give him a proper fight. Let the knight try to phase through the All-blades.

When no response of any kind came, he looked up. It seemed he had rendered the knight speechless.

Slowly hesitantly the knight finally spoke, “You speak as if you’d prefer that I was evil, yet I was led to believe you are aligned with so called heroes.”

Jason scoffed and looked away. “Not a hero.”

Fright Knight floated down to sit crosslegged in front of Jason, his glowing green sword drawn and resting across his knees.

“I am the spirit of fear itself, I am neither good nor evil, I just am.”

Jason barked a short chuckle, of fucking course. Then, he explained the concept of the All-Blades to the knight; flaming magical blades fueled by the soul and blood of the wielder, only able to be summoned in the presence of true evil. The knight in turn looked very intrigued.

“I would have liked to match my Soul-Shredder to your All-Blades. A glorious bout that would have been…” the knight said wistfully.

“Soul-Shredder is the name of your sword?”

“Indeed,” Fright Knight chuckled maliciously in a way that ran cold down Jason’s back, an effect that was done on purpose judging by the greedy glow in his gaze. Jason felt fairly certain he feed on fear.

The knight raised the green blade between them and turned it to let Jason see every facet with obvious passion. “One cut from Soul-Shredder will land you in a dimension of your worst nightmare.”

Jason’s breath caught in his throat. No. He refused to think about it. He forced a half choked laugh, “and you claim not to be evil.”

The knight looked thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe if we had met in the previous king’s rule, we could have had a proper match.”

Jason frowned in confusion. “Why would who the King is matter to your nature?”

“Because human,” Fright Knight began, green eyes boring into Jason, “the King is the most important soul in the Realms. His nature affects the very air from which we get our energy.”

“Pariah’s reign was a dark time,” there was an almost nostalgic tone to his voice as he continued, “he sought to conquer, control and enslave and I was his loyal servant, as is my duty as a knight. But Pariah was so bad that having no king at all was a better option than him, and he was sealed away by the Ancients, even if it left the Realms stagnant and disconnected.”

He paused for a moment to let that knowledge sink in.

“Our Phantom is a king who never wanted to rule, and has actively avoided it. It has been amusing to see him grow into the role.”

“And as long a he doesn’t grow into a power hungry despot he will always be better than the last?” Jason asked bitterly.

The knight barked out delighted laughter at that.

“Make no mistake, mortal, Phantom is a good king now, but he is young, still changeable by nature. These years are crucial. But should the worst happen and my king become a despot, as you put it?”

Fright Knight shrugged carelessly. “I will merely do as I have always done and that is to serve my king. I am the spirit of fear after all. It is only my concern now because my king wishes to avoid that fate.”

Leather creaked as the knight tightened the hold on his blade. He looked straight at Jason. Despite no mouth being visible, Jason had the distinct feeling the knight was grinning.

“We may yet have our bout someday.”

-

And that was chapter 4... nobody is really in a good place here? Except Fright Knight, he's having fun.

Comments are much appreciated <3

Next

You can subscribe to the masterpost for updates.

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (9.2)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: tension, sexy mobsters, fluff, talk about sex, making out, voyeurism, established Stucky, mentions of a foot job

Indecent Proposal (9)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“Our pretty angel is still asleep Stevie,” Bucky smirks while watching his husband stare at you. “What are your plans for tonight? Do you want to go easy on her or ruin her completely?”

Steve smirks. “I will make her feel so good and fill her up. Our sweet doll will melt in my arms, just like you did when I kissed you for the first time. But we need to go easy on her only for today. She needs a rest, or we will break her.”

Bucky laughs. “Baby, it was you whimpering after I shoved my tongue down your throat and my hand down your pants. You’ve been putty in my arms.”

“I think you remember wrong, Buck!” Steve’s eyes darken and he purses his lips. “You were the one moaning my name first.”

“Because you were so damn good a sucking cock,” Bucky grins. “You still are the best, baby. No one can compare with that dirty mouth of yours.”

“Debatable, babe,” Steve shrugs. “I agree on the fact that I’m the best at sucking your dick.”

“So…breakfast and naughtiness or only breakfast…?” Bucky hopefully looks at his husband.

“Well, you are already needy, and we should let Y/N sleep a little longer,” Steve slaps his husband’s ass. “In the showers, dirty boy. I want you to scrub the naughtiness off your skin.”

“Ha, like hell,” Bucky snickers and runs off, shaking his ass on purpose. “Catch me if you can, Stevie. If you catch me, you can scrub the naughtiness off my back.”

“How do you feel?” Bucky smirks knowingly as you hobble toward the kitchen counter. “What about breakfast? Ready to shovel down all the delicious food we made for you?”

You quirk a brow at Steve. “You made all of this?” While you glance at the food, Steve and Bucky look at each other. “Really?” You grab a plate and a fork.

“Uh-the cook made it,” Steve admits, earning a punch to his biceps from Bucky. “Hey, we don’t lie in our relationship.” Steve points out. “Y/N is part of this relationship too, and we won’t start it with lying to her.”

“Ah, we are playing knight in shiny armor today,” Bucky clicks his tongue. “I can be so good too. I can play houseman and use the vacuum cleaner.”

Steve snorts at his husband’s antics. “Buck, calm down. I only meant that we shouldn’t start our relationship with Y/N with a lie. She already knows that we are no angels.”

“How about we eat that food your cook made,” you step between the men to stop them from fighting. You don’t know yet that this is not a fight, but flirty banter. “It smells great.”

“You heard our girl, she’s hungry.”

“For cock?” Bucky grins. “Right, baby doll. You like a good cock.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Yes, I do,” you pat his chest. “But now that my brain is working again, we should talk a little before I eat your husband alive.” You turn around to wrap your arms around Steve’s neck. “Right, pretty man. I’m gonna ride that dick tonight.”

“Uh-huh,” Bucky slaps your ass. “This lady is hungry for you, Stevie. I’m afraid you cannot go easy on her. She wants to eat you alive.”

“First I want to eat pancakes and some eggs,” you snicker. “But I wanna sit in Stevie’s lap this morning. Maybe rub Bucky’s cock with my foot.”

“What?” Bucky choked on the coffee he tried to drink while you turned your attention toward his husband.

You look over your shoulder, smirking. “Don’t you like a good foot job, Bucky? I can make you cum only using my cute toes.”

“She’s a maniac Stevie and I love it!” Bucky is giddy to explore all of your kinks with you and Steve. “She’s a dirty girl too.”

“No sex this morning,” Steve tuts. “Y/N is right. We need to talk about a few things. The sex with both of you is amazing, and watching you is a turn-on. But we wanted to have her in our lives for more than good sex.”

“I wanna sit on your lap while we discuss all the things we forgot to talk about before we started,” you push Steve onto one of the chairs and hop onto his lap. “That’s better.” You grin and press your lips to Steve’s.

“The most important thing is to agree that we never lie to each other. This relationship and having a baby together will only work out if we are all on the same side.” Steve says and points out that they lied to you before.

“We agreed to not kill Scott but-“ Bucky huffs as his husband throws him an angry look. “What?” The brunette shrugs. “You wanted us to be completely honest. In all honesty, I enjoyed getting rid of that piece of shit.”

“You killed Scott,” you hum, and hide your face in Steve’s neck to nibble at his sweet spot. “Good. I think he was talking to the cops. I cannot risk that my men get arrested. How shall I survive without their cocks pounding me at least once per day.”

“What?” Steve and Bucky hiccup in unison.

“What?” You lift your head to smirk at Steve. “I knew that you wouldn’t kill him for me after I asked you to do so. But I knew that you would kill him for yourself because he lied to you. That hurt your ego and pride.” You giggle as Steve looks at you like you grew a second head. “I just had to lean back and act like I didn’t hear about his death already.”

“A match made in hell,” Bucky starts cackling loudly. “Stevie, she’s the one!”

Part 10

Tags in reblog.

[comfortless]

Syl, my lovely, please. I need to see this vision come to life through your words. Would König take his darling to the Ren Faire?🌷

VANI!!! my angel!! of course he would… König is a just a hapless knight at heart & it gives him an excuse to treat you like an actual princess! 🗡💕 i can not promise you that he will not force you to sit in his lap and play skyrim or something when you get home though…! /:

“Danke for agreeing to come,” he whispers to you once you’re out in the sprawling field, an abundance of colorful tents, partitions and others in similar dress surrounding the two of you.

It’s a lot to take in, as though you’ve been whisked away to a separate world entirely; the air smells faintly of fresh food, a bard strums a lute somewhere out in the distance, and… was that supposed to be a dragon’s roar?

König dons a veil of tightly woven chainmail, only a glimpse of his jaw visible, lined with prickly stubble. The rest of his armor leaves little glimpses of him, his thick wrist between cuff and glove, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he curls his arm around you protectively. If it were possible, he seems even larger wearing the plates of armor, far more imposing like this.

Tucked at his side, stands you in your linen bliaut, a soft woolen cloak dyed a royal blue thrown over your shoulders; a stark contrast from the shimmering and hardened armor of the knight guiding each of your steps with his arm around your waist.

König has to look at everything— marveling at the handmade objects and shiny, smithed weapons in each booth.

When you give him a quizzical glance as he ghosts his gloved fingertips over the angular blade of an exceptionally smart spear, he pauses his frantic admiration for a time to explain to you that it reminds him of one he read about once— like Odin’s Gungnir, fierce and proud. Even you take a moment to admire its craftsmanship, to which the pale blue of his eyes seems to light up; he makes the purchase without a second thought.

You find yourself enjoying the atmosphere, especially with that ever-present grin on König’s face; he’s in his element surrounded by fantasies drawn from history. It’s a nice change, seeing him so filled up with whimsy as he whisks you from tent to tent, buying you anything that catches your eye, taking your picture any chance that he gets.

You humor him, lifting your skirts a little when you pass between two of the fabric structures, hidden away from the eyes of any other grinning merchants, pretty ladies, and bellowing bards.

Seated in his lap he tells you of holy grails and swordplay tactics while feeding you from a dish on a wooden countertop, a pastry stuffed full with apple.

You only think to offer a complaint once you note the three now emptied pewter goblets of mead in front of him as König proclaims he wants to act out a proper sword fight with one of the others donning armor in the small, hastily fenced in area serving as a knight’s training yard.

(It was certainly a coincidence that the one he chose to spar with happened to be the very same man who offered you a friendly wave in passing.)

He makes a display of his swordsmanship, swift knocks and parries that leave your eyes wide as you clasp your hands over your mouth; even a prise de fer as you dig your nails into the wood of the shoddy fence. You’ve never seen him so swift, so brutal, as when he finally knocks his opponent into the dust, the sharpened edge of his blade pointed downward. Had this not all been pretend, you could imagine the bloodshed that would have occurred here.

Thankfully, König backs off, dips his head in a begrudging bow to his opponent before wandering back to you.

Your hand is pried from the fence, a kiss placed upon every knuckle as you praise his talents. He smirks, proud, and whispers to you something about how he had to show off for his lady. Even has the audacity to tell you that he would kill for you, and you knew very well it was not said entirely in jest.

When the sun finally dims and lanterns are lit, bathing the green below your boots in a soft, tangerine glow, you find yourself helping to loosen the straps of König’s armor. Poor thing had not thought to wear a proper shirt beneath, or.. perhaps, that was intentional. The sweat glistens off of him when you’ve tossed his dark top and curved metal into a heap, the curls of his chest hair sticking to pale flesh.

You rove your hand over him to dull the ache of those straps digging into his shoulders. He groans, contented as he pulls you up to your feet, leaning down just enough to kiss you, to desperately grope at your hips, your rear, before the strumming of a lute and the cheers and giggles accompanied by dancing fills your ears.

Attentions turned, you find yourself curling your hand into his, tugging him towards the feathery songs and shuffling of feet.

“We should dance,” you suggest, all giggles when you tilt your head to offer a pleading glance to him over your shoulder.

“Anything for you, meine prinzessin.”

[marthawrites]

Red Lions and Hidden Dragons

Unnamed male character x Lannister!fem reader & Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!fem reader

Word count: 2.9k+

About: Close kin to Jason and Tyland Lannister, you arrive to King's Landing with a party of fellow lions to celebrate the birth of Prince Maelor Targaryen. You weren't expecting to catch Prince Aemond's eye, but once you do, neither of you can forget it.

Includes: SMUT. This is porn with plot to set it up. Featuring lust at first sight, allusions to obsession (from reader and aemond), voyeurism, unprotected vaginal sex, male masturbation, allusions to exhibitionism, stalking, male receiving oral sex, reader receiving oral sex, minor degradation, vaginal fingering, and somnophilia

Note: Hello lovely reader! This might be one of the filthiest things I've written. Double warning: This fic is heavy on the voyeurism and Aemond is a creep. If you do not like that then do not read this. Reader is a Lannister and is implied to have blonde hair. Everything else is up to you! Reader's lover is implied to have ginger hair. Everything else about him is up to you. As always, I hope you enjoy this (filth)!

-

Golden sunlight warmed your honey curls as they cascaded down your back in gentle waves. Following close behind was a guard armored in the colors of House Lannister. A woman walked beside you who also donned your House's colors in a more practical attire–sword not included. “Is it everything you wanted it to be?” She asked you with bright curiosity as her gaze swept over the Red Keep's gardens. 

Spring's blooms weighed heavily in the air and if it weren't for a forgiving breeze all of those fragrances would be unbearable. Your nose tickled with an edge of a sneeze you could never quite expel. “It's absolutely lovely,” you replied with a happy sigh, leaning into your friend and lady-in-waiting. “Although… if I don’t go inside soon my eyes will be pinker than a pig’s bottom and leakier than a cracked chalice.”

She laughed. “I can bring supper up to your chamber if needed. Sneezing on any one in the royal family could be punishable by death!” She gasped with feigned severity.

You rolled your eyes. “The only one I’m worried about sneezing on is Princess Helaena. With her little Maelor only being just born the last thing she–and he–needs is extra germs.”

You and your family, closely related to King Viserys’ Master of Ships, Tyland Lannister, had only arrived this morning. It had been a long trip. Jason Lannister, Tyland’s elder twin, sent a party of lions to King’s Landing to celebrate the little princeling's birth. “Perhaps you will catch the eye of a lord–or Prince–while you’re there,” he had whispered to you with a wink upon your departure.

Politicking had never been your strong suit. Would it truly be so wrong to marry someone for happiness instead of glory, lands, and wealth? You thought not, but the rest of your family thought yes. 

“If the Princess even attends a public dinner,” she answered slyly.

With a light-hearted shrug you looked over your shoulder and asked the knight, “Ser? Do you remember the way back to the Great Hall?”

“I do, Lady Lannister. Ready to return?”

“We are.”

Once inside the Red Keep you immediately felt better. No more tickly nose, or itchy eyes, or scratchy ears. You arrived back just in time, too! Judging by the collection of people and their plates, supper had been served only a short time ago. You and your lady found a seat where you could. Nodding a polite greeting to Tyland, you sat and fixed a plate. While politicking wasn’t one of your strong suits, people watching was. 

You ate, and you watched. 

Who observed the watcher?

Smearing creamy butter on a still warm roll, you tried to keep tabs on the conversations around you. Truthfully, it was half a bore. Sooner than later it all jumbled to indistinct murmurings. Paying half attention at best, and once you finished all the savory flavors of meats and potatoes, you helped yourself to fruit for a sweet palate cleanser. Wonderfully ripened berries and crisp grapes took over your senses. On one particular juicy bite–when you barely covered your mouth in time to catch a dribble of springtime strawberry juice–a blush rose to your cheeks as your gaze swept over the crowd to see if anyone witnessed your etiquette mishap.

A few seats down, and across the table, the glint of a single violet eye danced with your mishap.

Aemond Targaryen. Prince Aemond Targaryen. Your napkin nearly slipped from your fingers as you realized he watched, and saw, and didn’t turn away from your guilty gaze. His one seeing eye trailed from your chin, down the front of your bodice, and back up to your face. The combination of his perfectly neutral facade and naturally bowed mouth made him impossible to read. But the glint in his eye? You swore it gave away his amusement. Perhaps even something more.

The blush in your cheeks dispersed–spreading and lowering–and with a delicate curve of your mouth you gave the King’s second silver-haired son an entirely different look. With extra care, now, you bit into a plump grape, daring to hold his gaze. Your heart hammered with anticipation and excitment and part of you wondered if he could see the pulsepoint in your neck thumping.

He squinted at you; so slight you might have missed it.

Desire roared in your belly.

-

It was nearly the end of the hour of ghosts when Aemond made his way to the library on silent feet. The castle was quiet except for a few guards and servants carrying out night shift duties. He paid them little mind as he walked with a small stack of books tucked beneath his arm. Sleep eluded him. Even reading did little to settle his mind. He thought, with a hint of hopefulness, that a walk might allow him to finally relax. 

A slight squeak of door hinges was the only sound announcing his arrival. It seemed no matter how many times it was oiled it always squeaked. Most of the time it didn’t matter much. But, on late nights like this, it made Aemond feel as if he interrupted something holy. Sacred. 

He’d always been a studious boy–so much so that it followed him into adulthood. Perhaps that is why he felt a pang of guilt upon midnight arrivals; he found as much solace in this place as he did the training yard. Sometimes he had half a mind to bring a pillow and blanket here to sleep in one of the chairs, the floor, or, more comfortably, a settee.

Quietly, out of habit, he walked between the rows of books, tomes, and scrolls, and placed each piece of borrowed literature in its place. Before he truly heard anything, the fine hairs along his neck stood. His pupil widened to take in the dark. A little voice in his head told him to stay quiet and look.

A phantom? He hadn’t felt the fright of ghost stories for a long, long time. 

But, no, it wasn’t a thing of nightmares lurking in darkened corners of this peaceful place that caught his attention. It was someone. And, judging by the sounds that perked the fine muscles behind his ears, it was more than one person.

Soft sounds made their way to Aemond’s ears as he stalked on silent feet. Heavy breathing. An inward hiss of breath. A muffled voice–low and sultry–sent his cock stirring to life in his pants. And then, right at the peak of a barely contained moan, a giggle.

Staying to the shadows Aemond peered around a bookshelf and what he saw knocked the wind out of his lungs. A woman–not just any woman, but you–straddled over the lap of a man with your skirts bunched up around your waist. The chair creaked beneath your combined weight, its legs thumping against the rug-covered floor with the force in which you rode him–in which he bucked up into you. Aemond saw why you giggled and a hot rush of blood flew up to his head and down to his cock alike. Your breasts were free from your crimson supper gown and they bounced as you fucked whosever cock it was that you were riding. One of the man’s hands squeezed a mound of your soft, perfect tits, letting it bounce against his palm as his mouth sucked your other nipple. 

Stepping further back into the shadows, Aemond, as discreetly as he could, moved a few books upon the shelf so he could watch between the newly formed gap. He had the best–truly the best–sight of you. Your cheeks were colored so prettily, lips parted in the epitome of bliss, and your eyelids fluttered as you ground down against him. Aemond saw your hand push through and squeeze your lover’s ginger hair as he nipped and suckled over your peaked nipples.

“Think anyone will show up here?” You asked, rolling your hips against him in a gloriously wonderful grind. 

If Aemond were any further away he wouldn't be able to hear you. His ears were perked right to you, however, and he heard your voice–all raspy with pleasure. He palmed at his cock over his pants, the bulge prominent and uncomfortable in its confides.

“If you keep being loud I bet someone will,” he teased before kissing you. He gripped your hips firmly with both hands and began to coax you up and down on him again. Before you could break away from the kiss those same soft sounds from before filled the air. This time they were louder, sharper, both of you chasing pleasure to climax. “Can't believe you wanted me to fuck you here tonight. Of all places in this big castle. Shit–Gods, yes, keep bouncing like that. Keep fucking bouncing like that.” 

You barely held your moans back and the little ones that slipped free had Aemond palming at himself firmer. Your moans, and slapping skin, and bouncing tits had the prince dizzy with desire. 

How in the actual Hells was this happening?

He nearly spent in his pants when climax washed over you. You were so lovey, and so perfect, and so greedy with your need it made Aemond want to tie your lover up and fuck you right there too. 

You could take it. He knew you could. You'd be debauched enough to take two men and still claw at them for more.

Your lover's seed covered your belly in a splattered mess and Aemond nearly groaned out loud.

He'd lingered too long. He shouldn't have even stayed like he did–should have left as soon as he realized what was happening. But that didn't stop him then and it didn't stop him now as he lingered behind for an extra moment, watching you fix your clothes back into place.

The edge of your desire was finally sated. For now, at least. With a satisfied sigh you smiled and tilted your head, looking down at your lover while he whispered something to you. You laughed and rolled your eyes. 

That's when you saw him. What? No… it couldn't be! The shadow of the prince just there! Just behind that book shelf. 

Aemond side stepped and ducked slightly. Shit shit shit. But it was too late.

“I think I saw someone,” you gasped with an excited warble to your tone. 

Whatever else you said, or whatever your reaction might have been, would remain a mystery. That's all Aemond heard before slipping out of the main doorway–the door's squeak the only evidence that anyone else had been in the library.

-

As much as Aemond wanted to see you during the morning meal, he didn't want to risk it. Would you squirm in your seat beneath his gaze, or would he beneath yours? 

Once finished, he exerted himself in the training yard–the image of your blissed out face and bouncing tits still seared onto his mind.

Fuck.

How long were you visiting the Red Keep? Surely Aemond would go mad before long.

After training and before lunch, the prince found himself loitering along a balcony that faced the gardens. It was a quiet spot, one not often frequented, and it served as a perfect place for him to relax and collect his thoughts after training. It proved to be an uneventful rest until a glimmer of golden hair and red breezy gown caught his attention from below.

You.

He stared, watching like a hawk from above. You were on the arm of the same man from last night. Based on his attire Aemond recognized him to be one of the Lannister servants.

Pathetic. The man was a servant. Not a husband, or betrothed, or even someone worth your name. You were a loose wanton thing. Licentious. Aemond watched you drag your male servant off the main pathway until you were out of sight. 

And then, on a jolt of lust filled curiosity, he grabbed a nearby spyglass and looked for you again.

A few minutes passed before he saw you through the reflective lens. And when he did the front of his pants immediately became tighter.

Hidden amongst the garden's layout you and your secret lover kissed and touched and pressed together. He saw your mouths move with words he wished he could hear. You were light and playful and eager. Fuck–so eager.

Aemond watched as you sunk down to your knees and pulled his cock out. You took it in your mouth over and over, again and again, like you’d wanted nothing more than to have him in your throat.

Did you enjoy this more, you pretty little whore? Or did your red headed lover?

Aemond's need screamed for friction–for anything–but he remained painfully hard and untouched  as he watched, not wanting to miss a single second. 

Time ticked by so slowly, so quickly, and before long Aemond saw you swallow, smiling up at your lover as he tucked his spent, softening cock back into his pants. You turned your head, then, looking along the balconies, and Aemond barely had time to step out of sight.

You saw his silver hair and the reflective glare of his spyglass in the late morning sun.

The prince wasn’t half as sly as he thought.

You barely spoke to Viserys’ second-son–barely knew him–yet it did little to stifle the lust drowning your blood.

-

Two days had passed before Aemond caught you for a third time. Duties kept him busy and he wasn’t able to stalk around the castle after you.

The first time he stumbled across you had been a complete accident. So had the second time. Well… mostly. If he hadn’t caught sight of you entering the gardens he wouldn’t have begun spying on you from the balcony. 

The third time, however? He hoped for it.

Might have even prayed for it.

Watching from within the safety of a slim corridor behind the room’s main wall, Aemond peeked through a series of small holes specifically made for spying; servants and their incessant prying. You were sitting in a chair with your legs draped over each arm. Your male servant knelt between your spread legs and feasted on your cunt. His soft groans and slurps, combined with all of your sweet gasps and moans, made the sounds of Aemond freely stroking his cock nearly non-existent. 

It was too much. Too fucking much.

You were too perfect. Putting on a show for him and everything. He knew you liked being watched. Why else would you be taunting him, luring him, snaring him in your lewd traps time and time again?

The man slipped his fingers into you while staying on your clit, and the way you tugged at his hair sent Aemond biting down on his lip.

“So sexy like this,” the ginger’s raspy voice rumbled up at you. “So sweet and tight.”

You sighed and giggled, turning his face back against you. “I'm not done. Keep going,” you said, sultry.

He did and you lost yourself.

But before you could finish he asked, “shall I wear an eyepatch next time? Lean into your little fantasy with the prince?”

“Gods, yes.”

He worked you with fingers and tongue again, pushing you to the edge of pleasure. “Say his name. No one is around to hear. The one eyed prince here, right now, eating your sweet cunt.”

You squeezed both hands in his hair and came undone; a tiny, shuddered, “Aemond..!” escaped your lips at the peak of your climax. 

Aemond's cock pulsed mightily in the choke of his hand; streaks of his seed dripped down the finished wooden wall. He had to have you. 

-

It was the hour of the owl when Aemond prowled into your chamber. You looked peaceful sleeping, so pretty. 

He stood at the side of your bed, head tilted slightly as he looked down at you replaying all the visions of you in his head over again. The backs of his fingers traced along the slope of your face; silken. He dipped lower, sliding down the curve of your neck and across your exposed collarbone. You didn't yet stir and so he slid lower. The swell of your breasts were wonderfully soft beneath your thin shift; nipples peaked beneath. 

You teased him even in slumber.

He gently squeezed the mound–testing the suppleness of your body–and reveled in the sensation. With curious delight he pinched the bud and smirked when a small sound hummed between your lips. He did it again. Harder. Your nipples pebbled tighter and saliva built in Aemond's mouth.

That made you stir. Your eyelids trembled over your eyes as if you'd startle awake.

Aemond's hand sunk beneath your blanket and whispered up your smooth thigh. Within the span of a few breaths he found the waist of your smallclothes and tugged the ribbons open. His heartbeat thundered. He couldn’t help it. He had to know. Grazing his fingers lower, still, he ghosted over that delicate space between your thighs. You were warm through the thin cloth of your smallclothes. Insanity threatened to take him over.

Again, you stirred. And this time your eyes fluttered open. Those pretty pools widened and for a moment you couldn’t tell if you were still dreaming, or if this was truly happening.

Prince Aemond. In your room. How did he get in? You’d lusted for him since arriving. Now, here he was; perhaps the Gods indeed answered prayers.

“Shh,” he hushed, fingers lifting to his lips to shush you further; a smirk visible at the corners of his mouth. “Why pretend when you can have the real thing, lady Lannister?”

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @aemondtarqaryens @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @schniiipsel

Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @aemonddtargaryen @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @avidreader73 @snh96 @boofy1998 @connorsui

[flatlinedgamer]

I did another one. This one is for Ladies Like Armor Plating.

The sheer height difference between Master Chief and Montgomery. Chief armored and unarmored.

[roses-r-rosie3]

Hiiiiii!!!! :)

Can I request Tomas Vrbada x male reader? They meet at madame bo's, the reader is helping at the restaurant, like cleaning and serving customers in exchange for food. Reader is kinda natural at talking to customers and everyone likes him. Tomas is absolutely smitten, but thinks that since the reader is acting the same with other customers it means nothing, his friends (Johnny) tease him. So his friends and madame bo hatch a plan for the two idiots in love to finally confess

Glue Song

Tomas Vrbada x M!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, slight mentions of nsfw, Romance, Crack-ish

Quote: “Okay so, what if, we bring in some ninja’s and they attack the place and Tomas saves y/n! Like a knight in shining armor!”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You haven’t seen Radien and Kung Lao in months. You never got to say bye to them because you called out sick the day that they were tested, not knowing that it would be the last time you would have seen them until a while. So when you heard from Madame Bo that Kung Lao and Radien were coming by for dinner you were ecstatic.

What you didn’t expect was that they brought new people with them, a guy with a blindfold on and a movie star that you recognized. But one of those new people stood out to you, a guy with grey hair. He looked so cute, but you had to keep yourself professional because you were at work.

“Hey Raiden! Hey Kung Lao! It’s been so long since I’ve last saw you guys! And I see that you guys brought some guests!” You smiled.

Tomas was lovestruck. Your smile made him feel warm inside. He could stare at into your eyes for hours. He was mesmerized by your looks. He loved everything about you, your face, your glistening eyes, your hair, your hands, god he could just imagine your hands choking him while you-

“What drink can I get for you sir?” You asked.

“Oh- uh- s-sorry can I just get a water” Tomas stuttered.

“Of course” you smiled before leaving.

“Someone has a crush~” Johnny smirked.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about” Tomas blushed.

“You’re blushing! You totally like him!” Kung Lao laughed.

“Would you stop talking so loud! He could hear you!” Tomas blurted out.

“So you do like him!” Johnny teased.

“Fine! I think he’s cute okay?! Now would you guys please keep it down!” Tomas scolded.

“Ouuuuu Tomas is in loooooooooove~” Johnny smiled.

“What are we? In middle school?” Kenshi scoffed.

“Yeah, let Tomas be, it’s not his fault that he liked y/n” Raiden said.

“Who likes y/n?” Madame Bo said.

“Madame Bo! What are you doing here! We didn’t say anyone liked y/n!” Raiden nervously laughed.

“Don’t play dumb with me. I might be an old lady but I’m not deaf. So it’s either you tell me who likes y/n or else I’m telling him that one of you like him” Madame Bo threatened.

“Fine! Tomas likes him but you can’t say a word to y/n!” Kung Lao confessed.

“He’s just y/n’s type” Madame Bo laughed before leaving.

“Wait Madame Bo! What does that mean!” Tomas called out.

Almost on queue, you showed up at the table with their drinks.

“I’m so sorry for being so late, here’s your drinks” you said as you handed out the drinks.

But as you were handing Tomas his drink, your hands accidentally touched, which caused Tomas started to blush really hard.

“Are you guys ready for me to take your orders?” You asked.

After you got their orders, you walked to the back to give their orders to the chefs before helping other customers.

“Tomas are you okay? You’re really red” Raiden asked.

“What did Madame Bo mean when she said that I was his type?” Tomas asked.

“She means that you’re the type of person that he finds attractive” Kenshi explained.

“I-is it true? Am I really his type?” Smoke blushed.

“Oh sure you are buddy! I’ve known y/n for years!” Kung Lao exclaimed.

Tomas watched as you were handing out all the customer’s plates. You were so kind to all of them, giving them polite smiles, making small talk with them, etc. Maybe Madame Bo and Kung Lao were just teasing him to get his hopes up. You were nice to everyone, what difference did he make?

“Are you sure?” Tomas questioned.

“One hundred percent, even Raiden can back me up” Kung Lao laughed.

“What if we make a plan to get them together!” Johnny exclaimed.

“Okay so, what if, we bring in some ninja’s and they attack the place and Tomas saves y/n! Like a knight in shining armor!” Johnny said.

“That’s a stupid idea” Madame Bo scoffed.

“Madame Bo! You’ve gotta stop doing that!” Raiden said.

“I have a better idea for you kids” Madame Bo smirked.

…

“And you guys said my ninja idea was stupid” Johnny said as he rolled his eyes.

“Are you sure about this Madame Bo?” Tomas asked.

“Yes, now I have to go, he’s coming” Madame Bo said before leaving.

“Sorry for your wait, it’s pretty busy today” you chuckled as you handed out everyone’s food.

When you were done handing out everyone’s food and making sure that everyone got the right food, you immediately started to serve other customers. Your smile, your voice, your eyes, your skin, your hair, everything about was so perfect, so sweet, sweet like honey.

As the night went on, Tomas started to doubt himself more and more. He noticed that you were nice to everyone you served. What if you were just doing your job and he got his hopes too high for nothing? What if-

“Dude, Are you okay? You haven’t even touched your food. You’ve just been staring at y/n the entire time” Raiden said.

“He’s lovestruck! Duh!” Johnny laughed.

“I’m fine” Tomas replied as he started to eat his food.

After everyone was done eating, that’s when the plan was going to be put into action. You walked up to the table to collect their empty plates.

“Can we get a check please?” Tomas asked.

“Oh don’t worry about it, it’s usually on the house when Raiden and Kung Lao are here” you smiled.

“Oh I’m afraid we can’t do that y/n, Kung Lao and Raiden brought 3 extra guests” Madame Bo said as she walked up to the table.

“Oh, okay then, I will bring the check, do you guys wanna pay separately or together?” You asked.

“Oh man! I don’t think any of us brought money” Kenshi said.

“I have an idea! Why don’t one of us help y/n clean and close up the store!” Kung Lao exclaimed.

All Tomas could focus on was your eyes. He could stare at them for hours. But all of a sudden he was snapped back to reality when he felt someone kick his legs.

“I said, why don’t one of us help y/n clean and close up the store” Kung Lao scolded.

“W-what? I mean- yeah! I mean- I will do it” Tomas stuttered.

“Then it’s settled, I can show you where the supplies are right now” you smiled before you started walking.

Tomas was quick to follow you, looking back to see all of his friend’s and Madame Bo cheering him on. Luckily, after you were done showing Tomas the basics of how to clean the place, it was already past closing time. But unluckily for Tomas, he didn’t hear a thing that you were saying just responding with ‘yeah’ and ‘mhm’ while he stared at your eyes.

So when it got to finally cleaning the place, Tomas didn’t know what to do at all. While you were cleaning, you chuckled as you saw Tomas struggling to broom the dust into the dustpan.

“Here let me help you with that” you chuckled as you held him from behind, guiding the broom to the dustpan.

Tomas could feel his face burning up. All of a sudden a romantic song started playing in the speakers of the restaurant. When you finally realized what you were doing and what was playing, you quickly let go.

“I-I um- I’m gonna go turn that off, I don’t even know how it turned on” you stuttered.

When you left to go to the back, Madame Bo, Johnny, and Kung Lao popped out of nowhere.

“What are you guys doing here?! And where is Madame Bo?” Tomas asked

“She had to go home, but don’t worry! We are here to help you!” Raiden exclaimed.

“I don’t need your help! Just go!” Tomas shooed.

“Really? It looks like you do” Kung Lao scoffed

Before everyone knew it, you were walking back, and they all got into their hiding spots, leaving Tomas alone once again.

“You know Tomas, when I was showing you how to clean the place, were you even listening?” You chuckled.

OH NO! HE WAS CAUGHT!!

His first instinct was to get on his knees and start crying for forgiveness. No, that would make him look even more guilty. So he decided to play dumb.

“What do you mean? I was totally listening” Tomas replied.

“Oh really?” You laughed.

You decided to skip that topic, for now. You and Tomas had a blast talking to each other while the two of you cleaned (more like you cleaning and him just looking into your eyes BUT STILL). You two got to know each other, knowing the others favorite hobbies, songs, food, etc.

When the two of you got done cleaning, you put all the things back into the cleaning closet before walking out of the locking up restaurant. Tomas offered to walk you home, and how could you not say yes! The walk to your house was usually boring, but with Tomas there with you, he made you feel like wanting to walk with him forever.

“Thanks for walking me home Tomas, maybe we can do it again sometime” you smiled.

You were about to unlock the door to your house until you felt someone grab your arm.

“Wait y/n, I have something to tell you” Tomas blushed.

“What is it?” You asked.

“I-I like you” Tomas confessed.

You looked at the ground, looking disappointed at first. Did Tomas really just screw up? But suddenly you started laughing. Oh great! Now you’re gonna make fun of him!

“It took you long enough” you laughed before pulling him in for a kiss.

You could tell that Tomas was shocked at first, feeling his jolt of surprise. It didn’t take long before he started kissing you back though. You puts put your hand on the back of his head, and stroked his hair in a reassuring way, calming him down a bit.

When the two of you pulled away from each other, you stared into each other’s eyes. Tomas took his time to think about what just happened, while also trying to savor the taste of your lips. But that’s when something hit Tomas, what did you mean when you said it took him long enough?

“Wait y/n, what do you mean?” Tomas asked.

“What do you mean, what do I mean?” You chuckled.

“When you said it took me long enough” Tomas said.

“Oh, when I was in the back turning off the music, Madame Bo came out of nowhere and told me how you liked me and I just connected the dots from there” you replied.

“Wha-”

“FINALLY THEY ARE TOGETHER” Madame Bo, Johnny, Kenshi, Kung Lao, and Raiden celebrated as they popped out of one of the nearby bushes.

“OH MY GOD! YOU GUYS WERE HERE THE WHOLE TIME?!” You and Tomas both said in synch.

[bucknastysbabe]

would you pls write canon criston smut? i love your criston fics!!

YES I WOULD LOVE TO!!!! Always brings me joy when people request pookie💘 a short lil fun one

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Blowjobs, infidelity, Criston’s residual guilt, marchers w benefits, wee subby space, Unwin Peake’s daughter, wet and sensual, he’s a soft baby truly, she just likes to please, caretaking

Taglist: @arcielee @bambitas @aemondsbabe @aemonds-holy-milk @rafeism @valeskafics @jamespotterismydaddy @lovelykhaleesiii @starogeorgina @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @fairysluna @sugarpoppss2

Pleasing You - Ser Criston Cole x Peake!Reader

“Today, I feel like pleasing you, more than before. Today, I know what I wanna do, but I don't know what for.” -Today, Jefferson Airplane

They always seemed to meet in the Sept, the Lord Commander noted. He saw the woman in the orange and black of Starpike. He faintly remembered her as a girl when House Dondarrion paid a visit to their fellow Marcher Lords. She held a darkened countenance like Lord Unwin.

“Who are you praying for today, Ser Cole?” Lady Peake asked. Her eyes flashed as one of the streams of crystalline light caught her features. Criston eyed the fellow marcher, a discarded Lady-In-Waiting for Helaena with nowhere to go. She clasped her hands, kneeling in front of the Father.

“I pray for my father. He is marching with Lord Hightower as we speak.”

Criston hummed, “Lord Unwin is a powerful man, I shall spare a prayer for him. I pray to the warrior today, for all the men fighting for our cause, and for my own protection. We leave for Harrenhal soon.”

She made a noise, returning to the silence in the castle Sept. Criston did the same, focusing on his devotions. Poorly ignoring Lady Peake so gracefully whispering words of praise. The man closed his eyes tighter, hands clasping to the point his gloves creaked. He knew he was wound up tighter than a drawn crossbow.

Warm hands slid across his plated shoulders, a familiar scent at Ser Cole’s neck. Lady Peake purred, “Lord Hand, Commander, Ser— whatever Cole,” she thumbed at the tight cords of muscle at his neck.

“I know you need to rest. Care for some company and mayhaps a knead out of this horrid knot?” Criston groaned as her slender fingers circled around the bunched muscle.

“Yes, that would be lovely,” he croaked.

They made a quick route up to the Hand’s quarters, Criston eyeing around, tense and jumpy. He noticed Peake was cool as ever, her quiet disposition the same, a resolute firmness to her being. The marcher needed that. It’s what their shared culture was all about. War, strength, and duty to protect. You must appear brave even in the face of fear.

As they climbed the stairs she tugged his cloak and asked “This must be heavy, you poor thing.” Criston snipped back, “I’ve been wearing this for twenty-odd years, I believe I’m fine Lady Peake.” Her laugh was raspy and playful, something nice in these dreary days. He rationalized his feelings for her as desperation from stress. Simply a transaction.

She stopped him in the center of the room, nimble hands undoing his armor. Peake commented, “If it makes you feel better, I used to do this to my husband all the time. So we share equal guilt. Lucas marches along with the host from the south.”

Criston’s eyes followed her, mouth working around a thought. She placed his gorget, pauldrons, and chest plate on the gilded rack. The fellow marcher sighed, “I can see you know how to undress a knight. Why even please me?”

She looked up with a blank expression, taking off gauntlets. Lady Peake replied, “I don’t know, I just want to. Does it bring you anguish for me to pleasure you?” Criston shook his head, fingers snapping at his padded tunic. She batted off Criston’s hands and redirected his ass to perch on the desk. Otto’s desk. Lyonel’s desk. He swallowed down more guilt, caressing her cheek.

“You beat yourself harder than any man I’ve seen you knock into the ground, you know,” she commented idly. His tunic was open now, only tan breeches and a loose shirt remained. Criston’s cock strained at the fabric, leaving a wet spot. He was a pathetic whore, leaking at simple touches.

“Criston,” she snapped.

“Sorry, I,” he stammered.

“Go sit in the chair sweetheart. Unlace your breeches.”

He followed her orders dutifully, shucking his shirt off, pants coming down to his ankles. Criston hissed at the cold air hitting his flushed cock, the member hitting his taught belly. Lady Peake smirked down at him, pulling the laces of her dress free, ample tits spilling out. He choked on a whine, cock throbbing once more. She dropped to her knees, soft lips kissing at his sore thighs.

Criston tried to relax his muscles, give in to her offered pleasure. He softened his stomach, neck, shoulders, and even his persistent tight jaw. She murmured against his groin, “There we go, relax for me.” Criston nodded slowly, rumbling, “I’m trying, pretty girl, I’m trying.”

Her lips pressed a lush kiss to his sensitive skin, trailing up to his hip. Criston eyed her tits, he wished to fuck them later, maybe she would let him. He inhaled sharply when she mouthed at the base of his cock, long lashes fluttering. The woman’s hand came up to gently roll his sac around, nice and snug and warm.

He groaned, eyelids falling shut as she purred for him to relax a little more. Her hot tongue laved around the length of his cock, suckling gentle and sweet at a twitching vein. His hands fought to grip the chair but laid limp, the word ‘relax’ repeating over and over and over. He whined softly, lips falling open.

The marcher woman enveloped the ruddy tip of his cock with her mouth, hollowing and sucking at the same slow pace. She’d dig her tongue in little circles around the tip, Criston moaning her name. She drooled on purpose, slicking him up luridly. Yet the way Lady Peake behaved it was as if she were merely lending a helping hand, a kind word or act. Not sucking his cock like a trained whore.

Another whine burst from the knight’s throat as she eased him down her throat, breathing roughly through her nose. The hand cupping his balls squeezed a hair, her silky wet throat enveloped around him. She swallowed in pulses, scrambling coherency for Criston besides becoming a moaning and rambling mess.

She bobbed her head, tight throat pulling on his sensitive extra skin. Lady Peake moaned around his length, squirming and rubbing her tits up against his legs. All while taking him deep and sensual, like they had all the time in the world. The knight garbled, “L-let me, can I, y-your hair?”

“Mhmmm,” she hummed, the vibrations eliciting a low moan of pleasure. She felt so good— molding his ever twirling mind into soft clay. Mush. He carefully leaned forward, one of his hands carding into her locks, the other reaching for her breast. Criston stuttered on his compliment, balls aching.

Her nose prickled at his pubes, dark eyes hazy with pleasure. She swallowed him down repeatedly, a lazy way in which she chose the pace. Criston couldn’t jerk her around, he mindlessly pet her hair and made pathetic noises, a heat building low in his belly. It was hotter than the dragon flames he’d seen, curling and smoking.

“Oh- oh gods, pretty girl,” he gasped, cock twitching.

She hooked fingers behind his tightening balls, massaging his taint. He cried out, the heat licking up Criston’s spine now. His dark head was thrown back, throat bobbing as he drew out her name. The sweetest agony. So slow yet powerful. The tension was melting from his body, the Lord Commander drooling and downright squirming as he oozed down her throat.

“Don’t stop, s’close, yes, good baby,” he slurred.

She didn’t.

It felt like ages before she was bobbing at s rapid pace, slender digits pumping his sweet spot. Criston shivered, sweating all over and unable to speak. The fire was consuming him as he gripped her hair, whining and pleading. The band would snap soon, plunging him into white-hot ecstasy.

“Closecloseclose, seven hells,” he grunted, cock unloading into her swollen lips. He cried, gasping for air between whines as he spurt down her tight throat. All while she swallowed and moaned, nipples hard and tight for him. She pulled off, swallowing once more as she wiped her mouth, grabbing a discarded rag to wipe him off. Lady Peake rasped, “Sound so good, feeling better? I have that massage for you now.”

Criston babbled, “Yes, yes, you’re too good. Lovely. Jus- let me gather, hngh, my wits.

[danibee33]

The Queen’s Guard- Chapter 3: Closer

knight!simon riley x queen!reader - featuring our favorite Scot in this chapter👀

word count: 3.2k

[<<< chapter 2]

Smile. Nod. Greet. Don’t forget to give your husband a loving look from time to time- look at him like he were the sun, the great star you revolve around. Repeat.

The King’s departure feast is tasteful, though ostentatious to be sure- just how he likes. Especially when they are held in his grace’s honor. Oh, if you could roll your eyes right now without being seen, you would.

All this for such an arrogant bastard.. truly a waste.

But you can’t deny the beauty that surrounds you, no matter the reason. The Great Hall had been thoroughly lavished in emerald silks, dripping with jewels and flowers of your choosing-

It was one of the few duties you didn’t mind giving your input and opinions on, working with the different tradesmen of the kingdom; you found you rather enjoyed partaking in the planning portion, enjoyed the creative freedom given to you behind the scenes-

But.. attending them, well, that’s a different matter entirely. They were nothing but an exhaustive performance, a true test of your goodwill and patience-

“You look positively captivating tonight, wife.” The King drawls in your ear, his hand creeping up your thigh under the table. And it’s so difficult to fight the urge to jerk away from his touch when all you can think about is the last time that hand was on you, your lip had been bruised and swollen for days afterward-

Smiling down at your plate of untouched food, you give him a sweet and temperate laugh,

“You flatter me, Your Grace.”

The hand squeezes too tightly, not painfully, but certainly not gentle or loving- it’s a possessive touch, one that worries you, makes your shoulders tense and your movements turn robotic as you place your fingers over his,

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you battle-ready, My King.. it suits you.”

You exchange pleasant smiles, his eyes on you far longer than you’re used to. It does not soothe you though, or make your cheeks flush warm. No, they’re too invasive, and the feel of them on your exposed skin makes your stomach sour-

A quiet sound trickles into your ears from behind your seat, it’s one that you had learned is deliberate, purposeful- a simple series of taps, always the same, random to everyone but you. Simon’s way of communicating- I’m here. I see you.

You tilt your head toward the insignificant little noise, only just able to see the inky outline of his shoulder in your peripherals, but it’s enough. Enough to ease your nerves and calm your relentless mind.

Knowing that he’s right there, always keeping you within arms reach- but something is different now. You can feel it. And you can’t quite grasp how, or even the exact moment the already anomalous lines in your relationship had somehow become even more blurred, but they had.

And this fading of the proverbial line in the sand, the crumbling of all your boundaries, should most certainly not make you feel the way it does- should not make your core turn molten, or your head swim in a dizzying way by just the sound of his voice, his presence-

He hasn’t even touched you again since that night, after the King left your chambers, which must have been more than a month ago, you think-

Because it was a fluke, it was the man sworn to protect you simply aiding you- he saw you bleeding and was the only one around to help.

But, he also didn’t retreat.

No, you noticed the very next morning how Simon stood just a step or two closer than he did before, following behind you like your omnipresent shadow, the sinister black armor becoming well known in the castle.

Unsurprisingly, he had garnered quite a reputation within court by merely existing at your side, speculation about his history running rampant- and you only recently heard from your lady-in-waiting that many commoners, and noble folk alike, had taken to referring to your new guard as “The Ghost”-

And oh, how fitting of a name- because you feel truly haunted by the enigmatic man; haunted by those eyes, haunted by the softness of his touch, haunted by the yearning and desire to feel it again- No. No..

Wherever you go, your dark omen follows- and for more reasons you can’t explain or justify, you find equal parts pleasure and power in his presence. Because where Lords and Noblemen once might have dismissed you entirely; or the opposite, let their eyes linger or their tongues turn crude- they now avert their gaze, they regard you intently and with due respect; and their Queen’s guard, with fear-

Tap-tap .. Tap-tap-tap

A smirk tugs at your lips, and you hope he sees it- of course, he does, and if you were able to look back at him, you would see his own smile settle at the corners of his eyes as he watches you relax slightly.

After a moment longer, you force your attention back to the festivities, eyes widening as you hear a booming voice,

“Your Grace!”

The distantly familiar accent dredges through your memories until you’re finally able to recognize his face in the crowd- seeing none other than Lord John MacTavish, your Johnny, looking back at you.

It had been years since you last saw your closest cousin-

Well, cousin is a loose term, isn’t it? We aren’t technically related by blood- but, we had grown up together as family, and neither of us had ever seen or known each other as anything else..

Yet, despite time and distance, he looks exactly the same. Blue eyes bright and full of life, and his smile infectious as it stretches ear to ear. His dark hair is longer than you remember- but now cut extremely close to his scalp on the sides, turning the messy chocolate waves on top into an overgrown sort of mohawk-

Oh, Sweet Johnny.. never one to conform to any sort of standard-

“Lord MacTavish, it’s been too long.” You say, watching him sweep into a dramatic bow, his antics forcing you to bite back a wide grin,

“Your Majesty,” Johnny turns to the man sitting by your side, “With your permission, may I have Her Grace’s hand in a dance?”

The King watches him for a moment with utter disinterest, much like he regards most of his subjects, but eventually concedes with a nod- and you don’t hesitate to push away from your chair, your ladies rushing to straighten the flowing gown but you brush them away politely, gathering the skirts in your hands instead.

Rounding the long table, you take Johnny’s arm, letting him escort you through the crowd- and you wish more than anything in this moment you could just be another woman floating across the marble floor, you wish you could toss the crown on your head away, remove the green and gold colors of your husband’s house, the crest from around your neck-

“Still always so stuck in your head, eh, Hen?”

The dance you fall into is simple in its movements, with your palm flat against his above your heads, gliding in a slow circle as the music softly builds,

“Hard not to be- but this is helping, I must admit.” You tease, giving him a wry smile.

His head tips back with a warm laugh, and you’re instantly flooded by memories of your childhood with him- of growing up together, his ceaseless pranks and joking, of the hours you would spend scouting through the woods together, soiling all your dresses, and ruining the pretty braids the maids would put in your hair.

The trouble you got in for him was “unbecoming of the future Queen” as your mother would say, but Johnny had been your best friend- much to her and your father’s chagrin, and no amount of their preaching ever kept you away from his never ending mischief.

It was like that up until he left for the army, and while you both had tried your best to keep up through letters like you promised, after your coronation, time for anything other than your duties always seemed to escape you-

“So, how’s married life treatin’ ya, Your Majesty?”

You roll your eyes at his quip, giggling when he picks you up, your hands holding his wrists at your waist until you’re on the ground again and stepping in time with the next bit of music,

“Oh, I’m sorry, shouldn’t you be married by now, m’Lord?”

Again, he laughs, ducking under your arm before spinning you both gracefully- your back against his, though your heads turned toward each other to keep up the hushed conversation,

“Glad to see your tongue is still made o’ thorns, Grianach.”

His old nickname for you stirs up a sadness that feels overwhelming, almost tangible, and the sting of tears prick at your eyes as you turn back to face him- knowing the dance would too quickly be coming to an end.

It’s during the last, slow spin that you catch Simon’s gaze- watching you from just beyond the edge of the crowd, eyes raking over your body until he sees the turmoil in your expression. And it’s like your pinned beneath him with the weight it carries, holding the fleeting contact even from a distance,

“Sunny?”

You blink once, realizing the music has easily flowed into the next tune, something slower, more somber- and when you blink again, Simon’s moved, and you struggle to not immediately look around for his familiar form, seeking the comfort he unwittingly provides you.

“Ah.. Tha’ the new Queen’s Guard I’ve heard so much about?”

Johnny offers his arm again, looking down at you with a lop-sided smirk,

“It is. And, what of it?” You ask innocently enough, finally spotting him standing a head above the rest, stoically taking his spot behind your chair- eyes roaming over Johnny’s face, still sizing this unfamiliar man up, watching how comfortable you seem with him. He misses nothing-

“Not really your style, is all.. The big, gloomy bastard doesn’t seem like he fits for my li’ bit o’ sunshine.”

How could you tell him that his sweet nickname, Grianach, Sunny, was what actually didn’t fit you anymore?

But you suppose if he stays around long enough, he’ll surely realize you relate more to the dark side of the moon than you did the sun these days..

“He’s been a good guard.. better than any I’ve had.”

Johnny nods, watching the man in question as you approach the giant table,

“Good, tha’s good, Sunny.. you deserve the best, always have.”

You don’t know why his words take you by surprise, why they make your feet feel like lead in your shoes-

“Will you be staying, Johnny?” You speak lowly, not wanting to let go of him, not when he’s the closest thing you’ve had to home in so, so long,

“Aye.. a week is all I can spare, but I’ll be here with ya, all right?”

All you can give is a weak nod before he bows for the King, kissing your cheek and bowing in front of you, as well. And those usually vibrant eyes dull a bit when he sees your apprehension- but he smiles anyway, backing down the steps and disappearing into the crowd once more.

And you do your best to plaster a warm grin on your face as you move to take your seat again, brushing past Simon, you lean down, speaking only in the King’s ear,

“I’ve grown tired-“

He waves his hand at you before you’ve even finished speaking, focused on one of his advisors- the conversation of his imminent travel far more important than anything you might have to say.

Well, haven’t the gods granted me luck tonight..

Your exit is a quiet affair, and as soon as you’re out of the Great Hall, you feel some of the tension melt away- the further you get from the raucous, the easier it is to breathe, the weight easing itself off your shoulders with every step.

“Go ahead and ready my chambers, please, Elia. I’d like to take the air.”

She goes without question, your other handmaids flitting right behind her as you take the next hallway to your right- the one that leads towards the courtyard and the gardens.

You can hear him behind you, those long, steady steps contrasting your shorter ones. Neither of you speak, but you feel his proximity intensely- always so frighteningly aware of him when you’re alone.

And it’s enough to drive you mad, how much he affects you. Because you’re so certain he feels nothing, being in your presence is his duty. He’s a man who has seen too much, experienced too much, to let the likes of you get under his skin-

The guards bow their heads graciously as they push the solid wood out of the way for you to pass through; and it’s as if the night air were a salve for your restless soul- fresh and perfectly chilled, the whispers of fall in the breeze. Just enough to get you out of your head, if only for a moment.

“Ser Simon..”

You walking slowly, your steps languid as your fingers brush over the leaves and petals, absently studying the textures as they feel under the moonlight-

“People keep asking if I like my new guard..” You ramble, moving beyond the entrance of the tall, maze-like hedges, leading you both deeper as you speak,

“But, I don’t think I’ve asked the same of you..”

Don’t.. don’t do this. Just turn around- go back to your rooms. This is petty and useless, nothing but disappointment can come of it..

“Not sure I follow, Your Grace.”

A chill creeps down your spine at the rasp in his voice, from the cold or disuse, you’re not sure. You turn with a saccharine smile, though it quickly falls away as you take him in-

He’s so entirely otherworldly like this, cast in the milky light from above, the shimmering onyx of his armor almost glowing under the pale moon- and when he shifts his weight, the light dances around him, like it simply chooses to bend and move at his will.

Beautiful.. Can monsters be beautiful?

You turn away again, unable to stand it for a moment longer. This was indeed a mistake, you should not be here.

Alone. With him-

“Do you like it?” You ask the hedge, your voice soft now, your confidence having waned, “Your new post..”

Is it seconds that pass? It can’t be minutes.. surely- but gods, it feels like an eternity. The silence stretches on around you- infinitesimal in its reach.

See? That’s enough of an answer to a silly, foolish question. Like he really has a choice in the matter of liking or disliking-

You just barely feel him before you hear him- but how? How had you not heard him move before? Maybe you were right from the very beginning- he is no man; maybe the rumors are true, and he really is a ghost.

He isn’t touching you, but you think if you took even half a step back you would be able to feel the cold steel of his breastplate.

You keep your eyes focused ahead, the dark not really a hindrance because you aren’t truly seeing anymore, so consumed by him that hardly anything else seems important- that is, until something heavy is placed in your hand.

The weight of it is awkward, and you bring your other hand to hold the object before looking down.

His helmet.

It stares back at you, devoid of the warmth you usually find there, without his amber eyes, the black metal is just that- cold, and harsh.

You have every opportunity to turn, to finally gaze upon the face that you had pondered on far too often- to confirm the features you imagined late in the night.

But, you don’t. You wouldn’t, not with the trust he had very literally placed in your hands- you don’t want to betray that, you don’t want to betray him.

“I do.” He whispers against the shell of your ear, his nose grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck as his head dips lower- it’s a slow, tentative movement, and once again your mind goes to war with itself-

Danger. This is dangerous- he is dangerous. If anyone were to see you like this, they would have your head and his, too- Hells, the King himself would probably volunteer to take it from your shoulders-

Yet, when you feel him nuzzle just behind your ear again, your mind quiets, body moving on its own. Just like the moonlight, you bend to him without thought- letting your head tilt to expose more of your skin, your lips parting in a shuddering breath when he inhales deeply through his nose.

A growl resonates from his throat, it’s fleeting, but it ignites an ache so deep between your legs it nearly takes your breath away-

“And, have I served you well, My Queen?”

You shake your head, your grip on his helmet turning almost painful as you struggle to stand straight.

“Why must you insist on saying it like that..”

The low chuckle that rumbles through his chest sounds so perfect in your ears, and the weight of his forehead gently dropping to rest on your shoulder makes you bite your lip-

“Like what?” He coos, and you can hear a barely concealed smile in his voice now, one that has the most delightful shiver snaking its way through your entire body.

He was giving you so much, but you so desperately wanted more. You’ve never wanted a man’s hands on you in the way you need his at this moment.

What would they feel like roaming over your body? Would his touch remain as tender as he’s handled you thus far?

The thought alone hazes your mind even further.

A small hum escapes as you allow yourself to spare a glance at the deep ebony locks you can see now-

Hm.. do ghosts have hair? And are they suppose to feel so warm..

The thought brings a sad smile to your lips, your cheek settling against the side of his head, and your eyes slipping shut; you relish in the feel of his hair on your skin- but, it’s that very same feeling that causes you to tense, pulling away.

Because too suddenly, all you can imagine is the feeling of his soft hair in your hands, matted with blood as you hold his head in your lap- his body cold and lifeless..

No- I will be the death of him.. I can’t- I couldn’t..

He moves just as abruptly as you do, though his motions are still so gentle as he rises to his full height again,

“I apologize-“

“No..” You cut him off, turning only enough to let him take the helmet from your hands, “Please, don’t- I-“

Words fail you. And your heart sputters in your chest as embarrassment, and shame, and grief burn through you-

“I shouldn’t- I just.. We can’t.” You whisper hoarsely, your voice pathetic even in your own ears.

Strong hands turn you, and you don’t know why your eyes clamp shut, but they do- you keep them closed, breathing in through your nose, which is just another mistake because his scent is so strong now you want to wrap yourself in it. Keep it with you-

A single finger tilts your chin up, a silent command to open your eyes, to look at him.

He’s covered again, but his gaze is so open as he looks down at you- studying you in that way that only he can, though it’s impossible to miss the unrest behind his expression,

“I know..”

[chapter 4 >>>>]

[blossoming-mind-palace]

Chung Myung x Reader: "Not Jealous!" (SFW)

Summary: You and Jo Geol are talking about the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, and you can't stop gushing over him. Chung Myung gets jealous

Contains: Mild jealousy & a GN reader

WC: 1630

“Do you guys ever wonder what the Plum Blossom Sword Saint looked like?” Chung Myung’s ear twitched when he heard you say this. “Well, all of the stories make him sound like a badass, so he probably looked the part, too,” Jo Geol chimed in. “What does a badass look like to you, Jo Geol?” You inquired. “Well, he must’ve been a giant. I bet he had a bunch of scars from all of the battles he was in! He probably had an intimidating gaze, too.”

“Respectfully, I disagree.” “Oh? Then what do you think he looked like?” “Hm…” You paused for a second. “I bet he had women all over him!” Chung Myung coughs on his drink and almost spits it out on the dinner table.

Everyone’s eyes are on him. “Are you okay, Chung Myung?” You turn towards him with a concerned look on your face. “Mhm!” He is a terrible liar and is visibly nervous. You decide to not comment on his face because he looks like he doesn’t want to talk about what just happened.

“Okay, back to what I was saying. He seems like the stereotypical heroic type, right? There’s no way he wasn’t popular with the ladies! Especially if he was big like you said. Who doesn’t want a giant and buff knight in shining armor?” Chung Myung is making mental notes on what you're saying. That must be your taste in men, right? His ears turn red while he eavesdrops on your conversation with Jo Geol.

“I guess that makes sense. If he was like that, I’d want to get to know him too!” “Exactly, you understand now!” “I wonder what other features he had…” Jo Geol thinks out loud. Chung Myung has gone quiet and his face is as red as a tomato. He’s stopped eating and can only look at his lap while listening to you gush over his previous life. He wants to scream.

“I don’t know, but he must’ve been a hunk! I bet he was the chivalrous romantic type, too. It’d make sense with the whole heroic reputation he has. Hah, sounds like my type of guy-” “I think you���ve been reading too many fairytales!” Chung Myung snaps at you. You notice he’s pouting, and decide it’s a good time to tease him. “Okay, why does that concern you? I’m just speculating. It’s not like he’s in the room with us, anyway!” “Whatever, I’m done eating!” He stands up abruptly and leaves.

Jo Geol looks startled; an upset Chung Myung is the last thing the disciples need. “I wonder why he’s so pissy? It’s not like he’s cared about my taste in men before!” You sigh and watch as Chung Myung slams the door on his way out.

Everyone except you knows why he’s like this. They’ve watched him steal glances, listened to him praise you after training, and noticed the special treatment he gives you. He doesn’t steal from your plate, he sneaks in booze for you and gets jealous when other disciples spend too much time with you. Jo Geol has seen this all before with other disciples. He knows for a fact that Chung Myung is in love with you and is currently jealous!

“Maybe you should go talk to him, (Y/N)?” Jo Geol suggests. The sooner you smooth things over, the sooner peace will return to Mount Hua. “Why?” “Well, something you said must’ve upset him!” “But I didn’t do anything besides praise the Plum Blossom Sword Saint!”

“Look, (Y/N), if he’s still like this tomorrow he’ll make training feel like hell on Earth. Please, smooth things over with him for all of us! We don’t want to face his wrath tomorrow!” “You’re being dramatic, but okay.” Jo Geol breathes a sigh of relief when you finally leave the dinner table.

-

Knock knock knock. “Chung Myung, is anybody home?” You ask and wait. A couple of seconds pass by with no response. You knock again. “Chung Myung, can I come in? Please?” You’ve started using your gentle and sweet tone. It’s the one you use when you want him to be soft towards you. “Fine.” He opens the door and has a massive pout on his face. This grown man looks like a kicked puppy, and it’s taking every ounce of self-control you have to not giggle at him. He moves to the side, lets you enter his room, and closes the door behind you.

You look him in the eyes, and you’re ready to confront him. “What’s up with you?” “Huh?” “Your mood suddenly changed during dinner, and now I’m concerned.” “It’s nothing!” His cheeks and ears are turning red again. He looks adorable when he’s like this!

He starts to panic as you close the distance between you two. Since his face is flushed, you decide to check his temperature. His eyes go wide when you put your hand on his forehead. “What do you think you’re doing!?” “I’m just concerned about your health! Your face is red, you feel hot, and you’ve been acting weird!” “Look, I’m not sick, so back up! Please…”

His tone softened at the end, and you decide it’s high time to stop teasing him. You remove your hand and back up. “Then what’s your problem? You were obviously upset at dinner. Was it something I said?” “...” “If you won’t tell me, I’ll have to figure it out myself!” Your mind replays all of the conversations you had during that time. You guys talked about food, how hard training was today, legends and heroes… Wait, that’s it!

“You weren’t upset until I started praising him!” “W-Who!? I have no idea what you’re talking about!” “The Plum Blossom Sword Saint! You’re jealous of the Plum Blossom Sword Saint!” “I am not!!” “Yes, you are!” “Am not!” His face couldn’t get any redder. This is ridiculous! Why would he be jealous of himself? “Just admit it! You’re jealous because I kept talking about how attractive he must’ve been.” “So what if I am!? What’re you gonna do if I say I’m jealous, anyway?” You pin him against the door. “Do you wanna find out?”

Chung Myung feels like he’s going to explode in any second now. When did you become so assertive? And who do you think you are, pining your senior to the door like this!? Your face inches closer to him. “Say it.” “No!” “Say it!” “Absolutely not!” “Pretty please, sahyung?” You purr into his ear. “That’s it, I’ve had enough of your shit! Why do you even care so much? Do you want me to be jealous!?” “Maybe…”

The tables turn when he trades places you. You’re caged between his arms and the door, and there’s no escaping at this point. He asks,” Why are you like this?” “Because I like it when you’re flustered. It’s cute.” Your hand raises and you softly caress his face. He grabs your hand, but instead of ripping it away, he buries his face into it. 

“You think I’m cute?” “Mhm!” You’re pleased with your progress. It seems like he’s starting to calm down now. His eyes are still furrowed, and while he looks you in your eyes, he asks,” Do you think I’m cuter than him?” “Pardon?” “Don’t make me repeat myself!” Oh, he’s so cute when he’s flustered!

“Yes, Chung Myung, I think you’re cuter than the Plum Blossom Sword Saint,” you say as you cup his face in your hands. “You’re probably stronger than him, too.” “Hah, I don’t know about that…” He rubs the back of his neck. All of these compliments are making him nervous! “I do, and I think you’re the strongest, hottest hunk Mount Hua has ever seen!” You start peppering his face with kisses. His heart feels like it could explode in any second!

His eyebrows have relaxed and now he can’t stop smiling. “You have the prettiest smile, too! Oh, and your eyes are so captivating! I could stare into them forever!” “Stop it, I’m not that handsome…” He’s rubbing the back of his neck as he sheepishly looks away. You can tell he’s nervous.

“I disagree,” You kiss his forehead, and look down at his lips. “Hey, Chung Myung…” “Hm?” “Can I kiss you here?” You ask innocently as you poke his bottom lip with your pointer finger. His heartbeat can’t go any faster; you’re going to be the death of this man! “Y-yeah…”

You grab his chin and pull him forward. Your lips meet, and when you try to pull away Chung Myung pouts. “Oh? Why’re you upset now?” “You know why!” You smile softly at him and give him a couple more kisses, but these are more drawn out than the first one. You’re both panting when you finally pull away.

“There, are you happy now?” “Maybe…” “What do I have to do to turn that into a yes?” Your response makes him feel shy, and he goes quiet while trying to figure out how to reply. You decide to take the lead. You grab his hand and lead him to the bed. “Lay down so I can coddle you,” you tell him. He obeys, and you follow suit. He lays his head on your chest, meanwhile your hand is running through his hair while the other rubs circles on his back. He feels like he’s on cloud 9.

“Are you happy now?” “Mhm…” he mumbles into your chest. You whisper under your breath,” You’re such a big baby…” “Huh!?”

-

The next morning, the disciples noticed Chung Myung was acting weird. He was happy… a bit too happy. They definitely weren’t complaining! A happy Chung Myung is better to train with than an angry and violent one. Jo Geol will have to thank you later.