#one flirtatious knight

[kitsunequeen1987]

I wrote another Kirby centric fan-fic

One Flirtatious Knight

It centers around Meta Knight, and a certain oc of mine Tourmaline's there too! It takes place in the krbay universe!

[slu7formen]

disarmed by desire. | luke castellan x f.r

₊˚⊹♡ luke can’t seem to get out of his head a certain someone, things become even harder when that certain someone, is an aphrodite’s daughter.

warnings: seduction, sexual tension, luke is obsessed over reader, reader’s an aphrodite’s daughter, reader has long hair (not really a warning but whatever).

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

pt2 here

Luke Castellan was obsessed with you.

No, not obsessed. He worshipped you.

He didn’t even know when it started. It was not one thing or situation that started it all, but little small things he witnessed that eventually lead to his confusing and strong feelings he wanted to desperately hide.

Being an Aphrodite’s daughter was no joke, nor was it falling for one of them. All of your brothers and sisters shared an unbeatable beauty. Each one of you is so different, but yet so similar. But the more you grew since your arrival to the camp when you were fifteen, the more you stood out to Luke’s eyes. The Aphrodite cabin girls were known for their charm, but you seemed different, less concerned with vanity and more with genuine connection.

The first flicker appeared during Capture the Flag. Luke wasn't actively participating, a rare occurrence for the camp's best swordsman. Instead, he leaned against a tree, nursing a minor but piercing shoulder wound himself, when she appeared. She wasn’t running across the battlefield like a fiery warrior, but holding a kid’s hand as he was a whimpering mess walking behind her, he sat down on a rock and she instantly attended his bloody knee.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t worry” her voice had said, and the little kid almost immediately stopped sobbing. “Other kids can be mean sometimes. What’s your name?”

Luke watched, spellbound, as your nimble fingers, surprisingly calloused for a daughter of Aphrodite, expertly cleaned and bandaged the wound. Sunlight kissed your hair, turning the braids into strands of melted gold. Laughter danced in your voice, calming the kid down and blending with the clash of swords.

It wasn't just your beauty, though that was undeniable. It was the tenderness in your touch, the quiet confidence radiating from you, a stark contrast to the usual flirtatiousness Luke associated with your cabin. He quickly realized you were also one of the few Aphrodite’s daughter who had the ability of influencing others with your voice; charmspeaking.

Even when your voice didn’t resonate for him, but for the little kid you were attending, he felt undeniably attracted to your sweet melody, maybe that’s why he stared so long at you too.

Then, your eyes met his. A smile bloomed on your lips. "Need some patching up yourself, brave knight?"

His breath hitched as your eyes pierced his, a blush creeping up his neck. He stammered, "No, I'm good." But the lie tasted bitter on his tongue. He wasn't just injured physically; a new wound had opened in his chest, one caused by a flirty smile and a concern genuine enough to pierce through his thick built-up walls.

Luke's attraction to you wasn't solely physical, but he'd be lying if he didn't find himself momentarily stunned by the way you carried yourself.

He couldn't help but steal glances when you wore shorter skirts or crop tops that hinted at the toned physique earned through years of training, or when the older campers organized a secret night out at the lake in which you made sure to wear the best bikini you could find. He'd catch himself mesmerized by the way sunlight would dance on the curves of your body, sending a flicker of heat through him and his own veins. There was an undeniable beauty in your perfectly applied makeup, but it only served to highlight the mischief sparkling in your eyes and the warmth etched on your smile.

It wasn't just the jealousy your beauty ignited in other girls, or the admiration you garnered from younger campers. It was the way you moved, how confidence flowed through you like liquid gold, making even the simplest actions seem captivating. One afternoon, he saw you braiding wildflowers into your hair, your fingers moving with practiced ease, and he found himself staring with parted lips, hypnotized by the delicate beauty you created.

He started finding himself drawn to her laughter, its rich melody echoing through the camp. He'd catch glimpses of her practicing archery, her form uncannily elegant even as she sent arrow after arrow into the bullseye.

She was perfect.

His mind would try to rationalize, tell him it was the warrior in you that drew him in, the way you handled a sword with both grace and ferocity. But deep down, he knew it was more than that. It was the way your beauty existed in perfect harmony with your strength, a potent combination that left him both breathless and curious.

He wouldn't admit it out loud, not even to himself, but the truth was, Luke found himself daydreaming about brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, feeling the warmth of your skin against his fingertips as he leaned it for a kiss of your sugar lips. Something as simple as that had him zoning out of every conversation and forgetting about activities in the camp. He imagined the playful glint in your eyes when you caught him staring, the teasing lilt in your voice as you challenged him to a duel.

Until, well… a true duel emerged. Summer was just starting after all, and practice needed to be done.

Steel sang beneath the afternoon sun as their practice began. The sky was painted with orange and bright yellow colors, as your darkened figures danced around the field. Luke, known throughout camp as the prodigy at sword fighting, moved with a controlled ferocity, his blade a blur of deadly grace. But his opponent today wasn't your average camper. You wielded your sword with the effortless elegance of a former ballerina, impressive to be someone who’s main skill is not fighting, he had to admit. Each parry was a pirouette, each attack a leap defying gravity.

Sparks flew as your blades clashed, but where Luke relied on brute force, you danced around him, using your agility and unexpected angles to deflect his blows. He felt a frustrated flush creep up his neck and loudly beat inside his chest, every missed strike fueling the unspoken tension swirling between you.

Sweat already glistened on your sun-kissed skin, adding a raw allure to your perfectly applied makeup. It dripped down your collarbone and hid underneath your shirt.

Luke fought with intensity, fuelled not just by the thrill of the duel, but by the desire to impress the captivating enigma before him. You, in turn, met his ferocity with playful taunts and flirtatious dodges, your laughter tinkling in his ears.

Some campers have forgotten about their own practices, drawn to the captivating spectacle between you two. Whispers swirled about Luke's unmatched skill, your surprising prowess, and the undeniable spark crackling between you.

“Look at that” Grover shook Annabeth’s arm, eyes pierced in two shadows swiftly moving around the grass, clashing their blades with resonating grunts and heavy breaths.

“Who’s that?” Percy suddenly asked, eyes wide and parted lips hypnotized by the slender figure whose hair flew around like it had its own life.

“yn, an Aphrodite’s daughter” his friend explained. “Not bad at swords at all, though. But she’s got Luke on his nerves”

Percy nodded. “Yeah, I can tell”

But Annabeth laughed. “Not that kind of nerves. Let’s just say she’s enjoying the attention Luke gives her”

The fight went on, each passing moment stretching the boundaries of skill and endurance. Your movements were a whirlwind of elegance and precision, forcing Luke to constantly adapt, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“Tired, hero?" you purred, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you walked around him and twirled your sword, the sunlight reflecting off its polished surface. "Perhaps a touch of Aphrodite's charm is what you need?"

Luke gritted his teeth, channeling his growing attraction into focused strikes. But despite the heat of the battle, your image kept blurring his vision - your smile, the way your hair fell around your face, how your cheeks flushed red and your glossy lips parted as you blocked his movement against you one more time. He felt his defenses crumbling, his usual stoicism replaced by a raw need to prove himself, not just as a swordsman, but as a man worthy of your attention.

“Careful, princess. Playing with fire might just burn you” he countered as he parried a particularly fierce blow, the impact sending a tremor up his arm. His voice was low enough for only you to hear.

"Oh, Luke" you laughed. “Thanks for worrying so much about me but, I know how to handle a little heat" You lunged, your blade aimed for his shoulder. He barely deflected it, the tip grazing his bicep, sending a jolt of adrenaline through him.

In a swift, mesmerizing blur, your blade danced around his, finding an opening. The clang of steel resonated as your sword disarmed him, sending his clattering to the ground. Silence descended, broken only by the ragged rasp of his breath.

He lets his knees fall to the ground, thinking you would have enough mercy for him to give him a break. But he found himself with the tip of your blade resting gently under his chin. You tapped it twice.

“Up, Castellan” you demanded. He looked up at you.

Your eyes, sparkling with both victory and amusement, held him captive. Sweat and dust smudged your face, adding a primal beauty to your already breathtaking features.

A slow smile tugged at his lips, not of defeat, but of something deeper. He lifted up his hands. "Seems I underestimated the true power of Aphrodite's daughters" he rasped, his voice husky with exertion and something else – an undeniable desire.

“Hell yes you did!” one of your sisters replied, earning a few laughs from the rest of the campers.

The small crowd erupted in cheers once the battle was determined as won by you. Luke eventually got up, sword still under his chin. He was much taller than you, to which you had to lift your own head up to fully see his face.

The roar of the crowd faded into a distant hum as Luke only focused on the heavy pounding on his chest, sword dangerously still close. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, tracing a path past the flush blooming on his cheeks.

"And it seems that our little hero falls not just to skill, but also to some… irresistible charm" you purred, amusement tugging at your lips.

Luke grinned, a touch cocky, a touch breathless. "Perhaps," he conceded, voice husky with exertion. "But I wouldn't call it defeat” he cooed as you slowly put your sword down, placing it next to you. His gaze dropped, tracing a slow path down the curve of your sweat-kissed neck, lingering on the way your shirt clung to your form. Your exposed legs shined underneath the weak sun. The air crackled with unspoken desire, the playful banter now infused with something hotter, more primal.

"Besides," he murmured, voice low and dangerous, "victors deserve their spoils, don't they?"

His words hung heavy, loaded with hidden meaning, a meaning only the two of you seemed to understand now. You felt a blush creep up your neck, surprised by the sudden shift in his usual way of being towards you. You knew he knew you flirted, that you did it with ease. But this was different. This was Luke Castellan, the stoic, the untouchable, and suddenly, he was playing your game.

"And what kind of spoils are you thinking of, big boy?" you countered, your voice barely a whisper.

Luke looked around, campers long gone, already going back to their own activities as soon as your tense situation ended.

He stepped in closer, the space between you shrinking to a charged silence. "Maybe,-" he rasped head down and still heavy breathing, "a dance with the warrior who disarmed me not just with her blade, but with her breathtaking distraction."

His eyes flickered down to your lips, the unspoken desire sparking a flame within you.

“Or maybe something a little more private, as you wish” he continued.

The world seemed to shrink to the heat emanating from your body, the intoxicating scent of wildflower and victory mingled with sweat. Your pulse quickened, a blush blooming on your cheeks.

You laughed in disbelief, smoothly placing your long hair on one side of your head, bright mane elegantly falling like a cascade without you even trying. "Bold proposition, handsome" you replied, voice barely a breath, still trying to catch it. The nickname twisted Luke’s guts, in a good way, might as well have woken up something else. "But maybe you should focus on winning a proper duel before demanding rewards"

He chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through you. "Challenge accepted, my lady” he whispered, stepping back and raising an eyebrow. "But know this; our next battle won't be fought with steel, but with wit, charm, and a touch of something… different"

You tilted your head to the side as he took his sword from the grass. "And this time, I won't underestimate an Aphrodite's daughter, or the power of warrior who knows how to play just as dirty as she fights"

This wasn't the playful banter you were used to, but you sure liked it. This was Luke Castellan, awakened, and the thrill of it was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"We shall see, Luke" you countered, your voice husky with a newfound nervousness as you pronounced his name. "We shall see."

As you turned to address a new opponent on the field, the memory of his voice, hot and suggestive against your ear, lingered on your skin. This wasn’t what you started, this was a dance of unspoken desires fueled by sweat, steel, and the awakening of a forbidden hunger in the heart of Luke Castellan. And you, the daughter of Aphrodite, were ready to play.

He couldn't help but watch you go, his heart brimming with a newfound determination. He admired your skill, your wit, your beauty, and most of all, the way you made him feel – breathless, excited, and utterly captivated. Your golden figure disappeared into a new crowd of campers looking for someone else to fight.

This was about to be one of the best summers ever.

pt2 here <3

I’m so delulu over this man istg

Currently reading PJ 3rd book :) Had to retake my lecture after I watched the show

ALWAYS OPEN FOR REQUESTS! <3

[justaz]

lol arthur realizes with the other knights after watching merlin flirt and being hit with a wave of deja vu: holy shit you asked me out

merlin and the rest of the knights around a campfire after leaving a village bc lancelot and leon somehow started a brawl in the tavern: ???

arthur points at merlin: after valiant! you asked me to buy you a drink! you were asking me out!

merlin is busy cooking dinner and confused out of his fucking mind: what???…..valiant….oh the knight with the snakes.

gwaine who was slightly tipsy now stone cold sober and sitting up straight against a tree: wait. explain. what do you mean merlin asked you out??

arthur snaps his fingers as he recalls the memory: i apologized for sacking you and you said that if i bought you a drink we’d be even.

merlin now remembering how he had stumbled into camelot, picked a fight with a pigheaded bully which quickly turned homoerotic and flirtatious, and continued their teasing-flirting for days before merlin shot his shot and asked the prince out only to be rejected: oh yeah, i forgot i did that…..wait, you mean you didnt realize what i was asking?

arthur: no?? we argued everyday, how was i supposed to realize you were asking me out??

merlin now abandoning the dinner and staring across the camp at arthur while the rest of the knights watch their back and forth like a game of tennis: to you we were arguing, to me that was very much flirting. i thought you were flirting back so i decided to ask you. then you rejected me

arthur, mentally beating his past self up for fucking up their chance: i didn’t reject you!!! i just didn’t realize what you were asking me. how was i meant to? we fought every chance we got

leon, nudging elyan, glee and excitement riling through him: its happening!!! its finally happening!!! seven long, grueling years is finally paying off!!!

merlin, realizing the misunderstanding and acknowledging the fact that he wasn’t rejected, his flirtations just weren’t noticed - realizing he still has a chance: oh…oh i see. arthur, my dear, our fights were extremely flirtatious. need i remind you of what you said? “do you know how to walk on your knees? would you like me to teach you?” or “i could take you apart with one blow”

arthur, mental capabilities at an all time low: m…my dear….?????????

merlin grinning devilishly as he realizes that his flirtatious persona he had hidden away after falling head over heels for arthur can make a come back: that is what i called you. should i call you something else? say…mine?

percival gags in elyan’s ear: cheesy

elyan hides a laugh: at least they’re finally getting somewhere. better than the hopeless pining

arthur, flushed from head to toe: ah uh no um im uh

merlin thoroughly enjoying himself: oh come now, your majesty. use your words.

[wholoveseggs]

Runaway

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Daemon Targaryen x TargaryenSister!Reader} As the rebellious younger sister of Daemon and King Viserys. You come with all of their impulses, stubbornness, and recklessness. But that isn't always a good thing, especially when it comes to sneaking out of the Red Keep. Fortunately, Daemon is always there to retrieve you and bring you home.

3.2k words - Warnings: smut, classic Targcest, lots of banter / sexual tension, Daemon being Daemon, drunk sex, hair pulling, fingering && valyrian dirty talk...

@elijahstwink @starshipcookie @absolutemarveltrash @odairtrqsh @darkened-writer

@cheneyq @fallout-girl219 @nina6708 @evasmlp @sadmonke

@deamonloverrrr @urmomsgirlfriend1 @moonsleep

"Another!"

You hiccuped as you slammed your empty tankard down onto the table. The bar wench giggled at your antics before turning to the bartender. "A strong brew for the princess!"

The bartender grunted in agreement, already beginning to mix the drinks. You hummed in delight as you looked around the tavern. It was packed with people from all walks of life. Drinking, laughing, and dancing to their heart's content. A few handsome knights were already throwing you flirtatious glances.

It was the same almost every night you came to this tavern. You could only assume it was because of your status. Your looks also helped a bit. Being a Targaryen and a princess was a dangerous combination, but it did come with its perks.

The bartender placed your tankard in front of you, and you wasted no time gulping down the strong ale. It tasted awful, but the effects were well worth the horrid taste. You could feel the alcohol working its way through your system.

Just the way you liked it.

You giggled as a knight leaned into your side. He smelled of sweat and horse shit, but he had a nice smile. You could barely make out the words he was saying to you, but you found yourself nodding along anyway. You didn't know what his intentions were, but you didn't care. All you wanted to do was forget. Forget the pressure, the responsibilities, the expectations. You hated all of it.

Your family was never good at hiding their disappointment in you. The way they always scolded and punished you. How they constantly talked about what a failure you were. It made you want to scream. But this knight was a welcome distraction, the kind to worship the ground you walked on, not judge you for every little thing.

You smiled drunkenly up at him, running your hand along his bicep. The knight's face broke out into a large grin.

Suddenly, the doors to the tavern were kicked open. You groaned, you didn't have to bother looking, knowing exactly who had entered. Sure enough, the knight's expression dropped as your older brother stood there with a furious look on his face.

"Leave," Daemon commanded. His purple eyes narrowed as he glared at the man. "I need to have a word with my sister."

The knight quickly disappeared, leaving you alone with your brother. You rolled your eyes at his behavior. "Must you always scare away my friends?"

Daemon scoffed. "They are hardly friends. More like vultures," he hissed. "I'm here to take you home."

"And I refuse," you replied, already making your way back to the bar. Daemon grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him. You yelped as you crashed into his chest. You were about to protest until he wrapped his arm around your waist.

"I'll drag you home kicking and screaming if I have to," he said, his voice low and his warm breath fanning against your cheek. "And I don't think you want me to do that."

"You wouldn't," you replied, narrowing your eyes at him.

He grinned wickedly. "Are you sure?"

You knew your brother was stubborn and would do whatever it took to get his way. If he really wanted to, he would throw you over his shoulder and carry you out of the tavern. And knowing the reputation he had, no one would bat an eye.

"What would the king say if he knew where you were?" Daemon asked, his nose skimming the side of your face. "Out in the middle of the city. Drinking. Flirting with commoners. Do you really want our brother to know about this?"

You knew how Viserys felt about you. He was protective of his younger siblings, going on and on about what's best for you. He wanted to see you married off to some high lord and have children. But you weren't ready for any of that.

"The king," you mocked, rolling your eyes once more. "Viserys couldn't give two shits about what I do. As long as it doesn't interfere with his duties "

Daemon smirked. "You don't think this looks bad on him?" he whispered into your ear. You felt your knees go weak. "Always running away. Causing trouble and giving our guards the slip. I wonder what punishment you deserve."

You shivered, feeling yourself grow wetter by the second. Daemon was always such a tease, and you absolutely loved it.

"If you won't come willingly," Daemon began. His arm tightened around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "I guess I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

"That's only if you can catch me,” you giggled as you slipped from his grasp.

Your laughter rang through the tavern as you dashed toward the exit. Daemon followed, a wicked grin plastered on his handsome face. You reached the door and threw it open. Running out into the streets, you were met with the chilly night air.

You didn't look back, knowing that your brother would be hot on your heels. The thrill of him chasing you sent a spark of excitement throughout your body. Your blood rushed through your veins as you ran. Your laughter and his heavy footsteps echoed throughout the city.

You made a sharp turn and hid behind a nearby building. Thinking about how the night would end, hopefully with the both of you naked in bed. The thought made you shudder in anticipation. You wanted nothing more than to be his, but you knew he would never let that happen.

He was so gentle with you, it was infuriating. He even rejected a betrothal between the two of you, never explaining why. But now, it seemed that all of his careful control was slowly slipping away. You just hoped that he would continue to let it fall.

You leaned against the wall and listened as his footsteps came closer and closer. "You can't hide from me, little one," Daemon called out.

He turned the corner and spotted you. His grin widened as he made his way towards you. "Gotcha."

He had you pinned against the wall, his body pressed flush against yours. His breath was hot on your face as he leaned down.

"You should be more careful, what if it wasn't me?"

"Oh? Would you have let someone else catch me?"

His fingers curled around your chin, forcing you to look up at him. "No. I wouldn't let anyone else have you," he growled, his violet eyes darkening.

"Then why do you refuse to marry me? I would be yours and yours alone." You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"Because you deserve better."

You rolled your eyes at his response. It was always the same. The same bullshit answer. You were sick and tired of hearing it.

You let out a frustrated sigh, pushing him away from you. "Fuck this," you muttered under your breath, you began to storm away from him.

He was quick to grab you by the waist, pulling you back to him. His chest rumbled against your back as he chuckled. "You can be mad at me, back inside the red keep," he whispered against your ear.

Before you could reply, he lifted you up, and slung you over his shoulder.

"Let me go!" You shouted as you tried to wiggle free.

"Not a chance, sweet sister,"

The guards were used to this by now, the sight of Daemon carrying his sister back into the red keep. They paid no attention to the commotion as the two of you passed. Some were even smirking at the scene, while others just shook their heads in amusement.

You had continued to fight against him as he carried you through the halls. He didn't seem fazed by your actions. Not once did his grip on you falter.

He kicked open the doors of your chambers and shut them with his foot. The loud slam made you flinch. Daemon was never one to be subtle. He walked over to your bed and tossed you onto it.

You immediately reached for him, your hands grabbing at his tunic. He chuckled as he pushed you away. "You're drunk."

"So?" you huffed.

Daemon shook his head. "You need to rest."

"No!" you whined, reaching for him again.

Daemon sighed, and grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head, "You're acting like a child," he chided.

"I don't care," you replied, kicking your legs in protest.

"Why must you always run off and cause trouble?"

"Why must you always try and stop me?" You spat back, glaring at him.

Daemon frowned, and leaned closer. "Because I worry about you."

You looked away, not wanting him to see the effect his words had on you. He let go of your wrists, and you pulled him close again, so that his lips were barely brushing against yours.

"I'm sorry," you murmured. "I... I just wish to see the world, to experience everything it has to offer," you continued, your voice cracking. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life locked away in the Red Keep."

Daemon's expression softened, his hands moving down to cup your cheeks. "You don't have to live like that," he whispered. "I'll take you anywhere you want, show you anything you desire. As long as you're safe."

"Anything?"

He narrowed his eyes at you, he always knew what you were thinking. "Within reason," he added.

You grinned, and pulled him down for a kiss. It was sweet, and slow. His lips were warm and soft, just the way you imagined they would be. You savored the taste of him, committing it to memory.  You felt him smile against your mouth, and you knew that he had been thinking the same thing. When you pulled away, you were out of breath, your lips plump and red from the kiss.

Daemon brushed his thumb across your bottom lip. "What do you want?"

"Nyke jaelagon ao {I want you}" you replied. "Mērī ao {Only you}"

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt. But all he found was the love and adoration you had for him. He kissed you, this time harder and more urgent.

You reached up and began to undo the laces of his tunic, quickly pulling it off of him. You then went to work on his breeches, desperate to see all of him. He broke the kiss, his hands moving to your hips, stilling your movements.

"Paez ilagon, dōna mandia {Slow down, sweet sister}" he purred, his accent thick with lust.

You pouted, and he smirked at your reaction as he slowly pulled at the ribbons on the front of your dress. His fingers trailed along your exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Once your dress was open, he pushed the fabric to the side, exposing your breasts. He lowered his head, taking a nipple between his lips, and gently sucked.

You moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his silver hair. The feeling was unlike anything you had ever experienced. You felt like your whole body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure.

He moved his mouth to your other breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple, before giving it a soft bite. You yelped in surprise, your hips bucking involuntarily. He chuckled against your skin, the vibrations causing another moan to escape your lips.

Daemon leaned back, pulling you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling suddenly shy. His hands moved to your waist, squeezing gently, slowly pulling your dress up over your head.

You bit your lip, trying not to squirm under his gaze. He had never seen you completely bare before, and the feeling was almost too much. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, hiding from his stare.

He hummed in amusement, his fingers tracing along the curve of your spine. The feeling of his bare skin against yours made your heart race. You pressed closer, needing to feel him.

"Lyka? {Shy?}" He teased, his breath hot against your ear.

You nodded, feeling the blush spread across your cheeks.

"Issa sȳz hāedar {My good girl}" he whispered, his teeth grazing your earlobe.

His hand slid up the inside of your thigh, his fingertips brushing against your warm center. You gasped at the sudden contact, your hips instinctively moving towards his hand. He grinned, finding a spot that made your toes curl.

He began to rub small circles over the sensitive nub. You clung to his shoulders, your eyes locked with his. He watched as your breathing became ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut.

"D-Daemon," you whimpered, your legs trembling.

He smiled, pressing his middle finger against your entrance. You let out a soft cry, your nails digging into his skin. He slowly eased his finger inside of you, watching the way your lips parted.

He began to move his finger, pushing it in and out of you. Your head fell back, and your hips rocked in rhythm with his movements. His name left your lips over and over again, your voice growing louder each time.

"Gaomagon ao jaelagon syt se tolie naejot rȳbagon? {Do you wish for the guards to hear?}" He asked, his lips ghosting across your jaw.

You bit your lip, nodding your head. He chuckled, his hand moving in a slow, steady rhythm, making your entire body tremble. You could feel the tension building inside of you, the pressure rising.

He watched you closely, his eyes filled with hunger before capturing your lips with his own. The kiss was deep, and passionate, making your head spin. He broke the kiss, his fingers curling within you, causing a loud moan to escape from your lips, waves of pleasure crashing over you.

Your body arched, clenching around his fingers. Your eyes closed as you rode out the high. Your chest was heaving, and your cheeks flushed.

Daemon withdrew his hand, bringing his wet finger to his lips. His eyes darkened as he licked it clean, humming in satisfaction.

You grabbed his hand, pulling it away from his mouth in shock. "Ȳdra daor gaomagon bona {Don't do that}," you hissed, embarrassed by his actions.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk, then he pushed you onto the bed. Your back was against the soft furs, and his body pressed against yours. His cock was hard against your stomach, and you could feel his hot breath against your skin.

He leaned down, kissing along your collarbone. He sucked gently, leaving little marks along your skin.

You felt his hand slide under your hips, pulling them upwards, spreading your legs. He settled between them, his cock resting against your entrance, looking down at you. His eyes were filled with love and lust, and he gazed at you with such intensity, it made your heart skip a beat.

You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair, pulling him down for a kiss. He always made you feel so safe, and protected. It was a feeling you never wanted to lose.

"Daemon," you whispered.

"Kessa {Yes}?"

"Sagon gentle lēda nyke {Be gentle with me}"

He smiled, his hand running along the side of your face. "Always," he replied, his voice soft.

You held onto him tightly, your fingers digging into his skin. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, and slowly entered you. Your body tensed, and a soft whimper escaped from your lips.

"I-it's okay," you breathed, trying to reassure him.

Daemon nodded, his hips rolling, easing himself further inside of you. The pain was soon replaced with pleasure, and your muscles relaxed. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside of you.

He moaned, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes closed. His hips began to move, setting a slow, gentle rhythm, holding you close.

His lips found yours once more, and he kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping past your parted lips. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your nails scraping along his scalp. He growled, and his pace increased, his thrusts becoming harder and faster.

Your eyes met his, his expression full of desire, and something else, something more. He held your gaze, his fingers intertwined with yours, pinning your hands next to your head. You felt yourself getting close, the pressure building within you, then your whole body tensed as you reached your peak.

Your hips rose to meet his, meeting his every movement and your name tumbled from his lips, a broken moan leaving him. His grip tightened, his head falling forward, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He let out a low groan, his hips bucking, his body shuddering, and you felt him fill you with his seed.

His thrusts slowed, and he pulled out of you, panting heavily. He collapsed next to you and you rolled onto your side, snuggling into his chest, a lazy smile spreading across your face.

You sighed happily, basking in the afterglow, and the warmth of his body. His arm wrapped around your waist, and he pulled you closer, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

"Viserys will kill us if he finds out," Daemon murmured, his voice muffled by your hair.

"Let him," you giggled.

He chuckled, and his arm tightened around you, holding you close. "I'm serious," he replied, his tone softening. "He'll have both our heads."

You shrugged, nuzzling his neck. "Then we better marry before he does."

Daemon laughed, his chest rumbling against yours. "I guess I have no choice, do I?"

"No," you replied, looking up at him. "Not really," you teased.

He smiled, and placed a kiss on your nose. "Alright, then," he whispered.

You kissed him deeply, and pulled away, grinning from ear to ear. The thought of being his wife filled you with excitement. You had never loved anyone as much as you loved Daemon. You would never have to seek out adventure, or trouble. You had everything you needed right here.

[bumblesimagines]

Prayer

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader Summary: Alicent finds herself unable to escape her desire for a new face in court.

AHEM.

~~~

Her long, forest-green gown dragged along the cold floor, picking up the dust-caked along the stones. Her hands remained curled around each other in front of her, her head held high as she approached her typical prayer area. Those in the sept bowed to her and scurried away once she passed them, for the last thing they wanted was to disrupt the Dowager Queen's prayer time. It reminded her of the loneliness that plagued her, looming over her like a dark storm cloud. She'd been a lonely child, a lonely mother, a lonely queen. Nobody truly understood her, nor did they bother trying. 

With a soft sigh, she carefully lowered herself down onto her knees and lit one of the many candles, careful not to get hot wax on herself or the sleeve of her gown. Alicent swallowed and spared a glance around her. Ser Criston and another knight stood by the entrance where she'd entered and two handmaidens lingered by them. Enough distance for her to speak of her sins without worry of rumors spreading. Alicent turned back to the candles and stared at the flames, her fingers lacing together. 

Alicent had many things to feel guilty about; her unsalvageable friendship with Rhaenyra, her crumbling relationship with her own children, the pain in which her husband had been in for much time before passing, the self-pity that filled her veins whenever she looked upon her daughter. She thought about it all constantly. But the thing that'd led her to seek out the Seven that day... had not been among the things she truly felt guilty about. Sure, there'd been a prickle of guilt, but primarily felt because of her husband who hadn't passed that long ago. 

Her eyes fluttered shut and she bowed her head, whispering her apologies into the quiet, chilly air filling the sept. She apologized to Rhaenyra for failing her, to her children for being thrusted into duty before they could mourn their father, and to Viserys for not being there in his final moments. But her voice faltered when she thought of him. Her fingers squeezed tightly around each other as heat enveloped her face and traveled down the rest of her body, making her itch for a quick return to the castle so she could plunge herself in a bath. 

The Small Council's newest Master of Ships: (Y/N) Roxton, younger brother to Jon Roxton the Bold. Alicent had been uneasy the day he'd arrived at King's Landing with his devilish eyes and smirky mouth but Aegon had been delighted with him when they met, cementing his spot amongst the council despite merely being a few years older than Aegon and by far the youngest council member they'd thus yet had. Alicent attempted to keep her worries in check but they soon soothed when (Y/N) proved to be rather well-mannered despite the bloody reputation he and his brother had garnered throughout the years, although his youth showed through his flirtatious nature. 

Alicent found the attention pleasing, surprisingly enough. Her father had deprived her of the chance of a love-filled marriage and King Viserys had hardly given her the attention she would've wanted from a husband as he only paid her attention to fulfil his own desires. She enjoyed the flirting, even if she dismissed him with shakes of her head or gentle scolding, but the smile that toyed on her lips only led him to continue. Dreams plagued her sleep and bitter jealousy began filling her veins whenever she noticed him flirting with someone else. 

Her eyes snapped open and she inhaled sharply, the heavy scent of smoke and incense filling her senses. Despite how badly she fought against the thoughts circulating her mind. She was a devoted woman of the Seven who ought to still be mourning her husband instead of thinking of such impurities. Alicent rose unsteadily to her feet and turned swiftly, retreating from the sept and toward the awaiting carriage. She refused to meet the eyes of her handmaidens as they returned to the castle and ignored Ser Criston's questioning stare when she entered the castle and moved down the halls until she stopped before the doors to his bedchambers. 

"(Y/N) and I will be discussing some pressing matters at hand, Ser Criston. I do not wish to be interrupted." She told her Sworn Shield. Ser Criston's lips pressed into a thin line, head bobbing in a small nod before he opened the door, letting her step inside before shutting it and standing guard outside. 

(Y/N) lifted his gaze from a letter in hand, nursing a cup of wine in the other. "Your Grace," His lips curled pleasantly. "To what do I owe the honor of your presence?" 

"I must... speak with you about... things."

"Things? There are many things we could speak of, Your Grace. You'll have to be more specific." (Y/N) grinned at her and a heat bubbled in her stomach. She cleared her throat and strode across the room, managing to keep her composure under his piercing stare. Her eyes slid around the tidy room, the only sign of mess coming in the form of a table with papers scattered across it. Plans for new ships and other things Alicent had little interest in. 

"I believe you know." She spoke gently once she stopped at his side, trailing her stare away from the papers and raising it to look at him. He huffed a quiet laugh and finished what was left of his wine, his lips darting out to swipe over his lips. (Y/N) raised his hand toward her face, calloused fingers brushing over the soft skin of her cheek. His knuckles bumped against her earring, fingers dipping slightly into her auburn hair and curling, palm pressed to her cheek. 

There was a sweet warmth to his touch that had Alicent leaning into his hand, relishing the idea of being touched so gently for the first time in a long while. Her eyes fluttered shut when his head leaned toward hers, their lips locking together and sending a jolt down her spine. Her hands raised, planting themselves against his chest and curling around the fabric to pull him closer. She sighed softly against the kiss, her parted lips giving him leeway to explore uncharted territory. Her skin flushed immediately, only pulling away to release a soft gasp and take in some air when he effortlessly raised her up and onto the table. 

She felt giddy again, pleased as she used to be back when she and Rhaenyra would spend every waking moment together. Her heart hammered in her chest, both nervous and thrilled. Finally, she could take matters into her own hands. Finally, she could choose who she wanted to be with without someone else deciding for her. Alicent gently pulled him back in, rolling her eyes at the snicker he released before pressing their lips together again. His fingers balled up the fabric of her skirt and tugged it upwards past her knees until it pooled at her lap. The cool air nipped at the exposed skin and Alicent resisted the instinct to tug the fabric back down, her mind drifting elsewhere when his hand grasped the flesh of her thighs and squeezed. 

"How long until someone requires our presence?" He murmured against her. 

"We have plenty of time."

So there Alicent remained in his bedchambers; Ser Criston stationed outside dismissing any maids and such who wished to enter for whatever reason.

Much time had passed, nearly a full hour, but there she remained, her long loose curls sticking to her glistening, sweat-covered skin. Her dress had long been abandoned on the floor by the bed, discarded rapidly before it could be torn to shreds. His arms were wrapped loosely around her waist, keeping her flush against his bare chest and pressed down on his lap. Her nails dug into his shoulder, her hazy mind attempting to catch up while her body recovered, her hips and sticky thighs aching.

She'd have to drink moon tea, the rational part of her realized, but she merely slumped against him.

A breathy squeak escaped her when he moved them, her back meeting the silk sheets beneath. He chuckled into her throat, teeth dragging lightly across her skin and making her shudder against him. (Y/N) leaned back with a twinkle in his eye. "I'm not finished with you yet, My Queen."

[satorusluver]

Gojo x short!reader headcanons

Word count: 1,180 ish

Warnings: smut (minors DNI), SIZE KINK, slight praise kink, creampie, oral (f receiving), fluff, afab reader, she/her pronouns. Also the reader is described as curvy like one time.

-Gojo Satoru doesn't actually see you in a romantic or sexual way at first. Not that he finds you unattractive, he's just never dated anyone that much shorter than him before or really even thought about it. He's never really considered himself someone who's into big size differences (which is kind of ironic because he's so much bigger than almost everyone lol). He thinks you're cute though. He also definitely likes the way you literally look up to him. Itty bitty thing, you don't even come up to his shoulder.

-He teases you relentlessly about your height, calls you shorty, shortstack, vertically challenged, you name it. He ruffles your hair and does that thing where he uses your head as an arm rest just to see the annoyed look on your face. The more he does stuff like this over time the more flirtatious it becomes even if that wasn't his original intention. Eventually it ends up being his way of blatantly trying to flirt with you although you might not realize this at first 'cause he just has a flirty personality in general.

-He thinks it must be annoying to be so short. How do you see over things?? (spoiler alert: you don't) How do you reach things??? Speaking of, he will purposefully move things out of your reach to watch you jump up to get them. He thinks it's hilarious (and also maybe he likes the way it makes your boobs bounce). After awhile he will offer to be your tall knight in shining armour and get it for you. But you always say no, you've been short your whole life and you can do it yourself.

-He appreciates that independent element of you, but at the same time, sometimes he gets annoyed when you break out the stepstool and actually do get it yourself so he will hide it from you just so you have to relent and accept his help. Petty? Yes. Effective? Also yes.

-He'll also sometimes refuse to bend down to let you kiss him just to see you do a cute lil jump to try to reach him. He never refuses for very long though because he just can't resist his cute lil girlfriend and her adorable pouty face. Then he bends down and squishes your cheeks until your lips pucker and tells you that you're too cute for your own good before finally giving you that kiss you wanted, and then a couple more to make up for him messing with you.

-He will offer to let you sit on his shoulders so you can see in crowds. No, you're not too heavy. He's the strongest, remember? No, this isn't about jujutsu, but the fact still stands. And it's definitely not an excuse to feel your thighs around his head, or anything like that...

But when you guys do get intimate, oh boy.

-He never really thought about it before, but now he's kind of starting to like the way you guys are physically opposites - he's tall, lanky, and hard; you're short, curvy and soft. Even your hands, your legs, you're just so tiny compared to him and he doesn't know why that excites him so much now, but it does. He could really just pick you up and toss you onto the bed like a ragdoll. He won't though...unless you want him to?

Oh, you do want him to? Say no more, princess.

-In which case, he will toss you onto the bed and push those pretty thighs of yours apart so he can feel them around his head properly this time. And no, he won't stop eating you out until you beg him to, his tongue lapping hungrily at your clit and occasionally murmuring whatever thoughts fill his pussydrunk head about how good you taste and how much he wants you to cum on his tongue.

-He loves missionary but knows your head would literally be against his chest if he leaned over you too much during it so he usually sits up so he can get a good look at your face while he's pounding you. He loves loves loves holding your hand in his while he's doing it too, loves how his huge hand engulfs yours and how your tiny fingers grip his for dear life when he makes your eyes roll back in your head. He quickly becomes obsessed with how you look under him, your legs folded against your chest and your eyes glazed over with pleasure.

-He also loves to have you sit on his lap on a chair or couch, straddling him so he can run his hands along your waist as you slowly sink down onto his cock. He loves the way you curl up against him, your head resting against his shoulder. Your hand holds the back of his neck, your fingers gently combing through the short hair of his undercut as you whimper softly from the feeling of him stretching out your walls inch by inch. It's one of the few times he doesn't pound you, just wanting to take it slow and savor making love with you. So he wraps his arms around your middle and pulls you close, pressing your chest flush against his as he thrusts up into you gently but deeply, allowing you to feel every single inch of him slowly moving in and out of you.

-Other times he'll have you ride him like that, only to end up gripping the fat of your ass with those big hands of his to move your hips up and down on him, keeping you moving after your legs have already begun to give out. You can't bring yourself to complain even when you start to feel that burning in your thighs when his fat cock is hitting all of your sweet spots and you've lost count of how many times you've cum. And all the while he's moving you up and down, he'll whisper filthy things in your ear with that classic Satoru smirk tugging at his pretty pink lips from the sight of you so fucked out on his cock:

"Such a good little fuckdoll f'me. Gonna let me use this pretty body however I want, yeah? That's my baby, good fucking girl." ❤️

-Satoru says he was never into really short girls before you, but now the sight of you in his shirts and how they hang down to your plush thighs has his dick getting so hard so fast. Wear them without underwear and if he notices you will not be leaving the house that day (or be able to walk straight for days). He'll have you leave the shirt on while he's fucking you too, he'll just lift it up to get a look at the way your tits bounce when his hips snap against yours.

-He really does think you're the most beautiful woman in the world, and you're all Satoru's, and that thought alone has him painting your walls white and groaning a "love you s'much" against your lips as he fucks yet another load of thick cum into your already overfilled cunt.

[storiesforallfandoms]

looks of a princess ~ eleventh doctor;doctor who

word count: 3736

request?: no

description: after travelling to medieval times, a flirtatious king takes interest in the doctor’s companion, and the doctor is a little jealous

pairing: eleventh doctor x female!reader

warnings: swearing, jealousy, use of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

“I hate when you don’t tell me where we’re going,” (Y/N) muttered as the TARDIS lurched again. “I always feel like I need to prepare for whatever is going to happen.”

“You don’t need to prepare for anything this time,” the Doctor insisted. “Just let me surprise you, we’ll have fun!”

“Remember last time you said you would surprise me with fun? We ended up surrounded by Daleks and narrowly escaping their attacks.”

The Doctor moved away from the controls and cupped (Y/N)’s face. “This one will be a fun surprise. I promise.”

He kissed the top of her head, then went back to the controls. (Y/N) wanted to argue further, but she knew there was no use. The Doctor had a very different definition of “fun” than most, and it was nearly impossible to convince him when he was wrong. And she had to admit, the Doctor never went looking for trouble. Trouble just found him. Besides all that, it was also just impossible to argue with the Doctor when he was showing her affection, which they were both well aware of.

She braced as the TARDIS began making a noise that indicated they would be landing soon. As usual, the TARDIS landed with a rough thud and would’ve thrown the two of them to the ground if they hadn’t been prepared. The Doctor was smiling his big, goofy smile as he rushed to the door and threw it open with a flourish. (Y/N) looked around him at where they were supposed to be. “A forest?”

The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS and looked around. “I could’ve swore I had our coordinates to land at the castle.”

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks and looked at him. “Castle?! You were planning to crash land in front of a castle?!”

“Well, I wasn’t planning to crash land. But, the surprise is ruined now, so yes. I brought up back to medieval times so you could see a real castle, and real knights. Maybe even a king or a queen.”

She walked over and wrapped her arms around his neck. “That’s so sweet, if not a little scary because I’m sure we would’ve been thrown into a dungeon if we crashed that close to the castle.”

The Doctor chuckled and put his arms around her waist. he was pulling her in for a kiss when they both heard something. They paused to listen. It sounded like heavy thumping against the ground, slowly getting louder and closer. They were pulling away from each other just as a group of men in metal suits of amour, some riding horses, broke through the trees and into the clearing where (Y/N) and the Doctor landed.

Knights.

Knights with pointy weapons aimed at them.

The Doctor pulled (Y/N) close to him, protectively. “Gentlemen, we mean no harm.”

“Who are you?” the lead knight demanded.

“I am the Doctor. This is my...associate, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. Years of dating (exactly how many years was still a bit wonky because of timey wimey stuff), and the Doctor was still weird about calling her his girlfriend.

“We’ve come to visit your beautiful land,” the Doctor explained.

“We heard sounds like an explosion,” the knight said, eying the two of them suspiciously.

“That was just...our...carriage?”

The knights shared a look before the lead said, “You’re coming with us to the king.”

Two knights tried to approach to take them, but they assured the knights they’d come willingly. (Y/N) bit her tongue to keep in an “I told you so”. She knew this wasn’t what the Doctor had planned, but it really did just prove her point that there was never an uneventful tried with him.

The two of them were marched to a castle that wasn’t too far from where they had landed. (Y/N) marveled at it as they got closer. It looked exactly like the castles from fairy tales and medieval shows and movies. It was huge with a moat around it. The drawbridge lowered as they got closer, someone obviously watching for their arrival. The group led the two inside, but only three knights ended up bringing them to the king.

He was a younger looking man, surprisingly. (Y/N) was assuming he was going to be an old man, but he was close to her age, and quite handsome. He looked down at them as they approached. When they stopped, he was still watching them, expectantly. It took the Doctor a moment to realize what he was waiting for. “Oh! Bow!”

They moved simultaneously to bow.

“Who are you?” asked the king.

“I am the Doctor, this is (Y/N).”

He raised an eyebrow. “You are a doctor?”

“Well, no. It’s like a...um...a stage name!” The king still looked suspicious. The Doctor turned to (Y/N) as if looking for backup, but she looked just as confused. “We are traveling...magicians. That’s why we have such funny looking clothes, and the loud noise you heard before. We were, um, practicing a trick! Went a bit wrong. We sincerely apologize.”

The king’s gaze turned to (Y/N). His expression seemed to soften greatly when he did, which definitely did not go unnoticed by the Doctor.

“Is this true, my lady?” he asked. “Are you two magicians?”

She nodded quickly.

“We were traveling to see your lovely castle,” the Doctor explained.

The flattery seemed to work, on top of the presence of a beautiful lady, the Doctor was sure.

The king stood from his throne. “It seems there has been a misunderstanding, then. I would like to apologize and offer you both lodgings in the castle for the night.”

The Doctor looked over at (Y/N). Her eyes were shining with excitement at the offer. As much as he wanted to say no and leave, he couldn’t when she looked like that. He plastered on a smile and agreed. The answer delighted the king, who stepped down from his throne to shake their hands. He grasped (Y/N)’s hand very warmly. Even she seemed startled by the gesture.

“My name is King Harold Evergreen,” he said, to both of them but definitely mainly to (Y/N). “I am honored to have you both here.”

~~~~~~

(Y/N) was still marveling at everything hours later. They were shown to the room they would be staying in, which was huge as well. She only got glimpses of the halls and other rooms as they were guided to their room, but King Harold promised an actual tour later on. (Y/N) felt like she was living in a fairytale.

The Doctor, however, was not taken with everything. He had been at first, until they had met the king, and until the king started to show clear interest in (Y/N).

There hadn’t been many times when the Doctor felt such strong feelings of jealousy. Mainly because he never expected for any of his companions to be around for long. Something always happened that made him lose his companions eventually. He always told himself not to get too close or else he’d end up hurt again, and every time he was right. But (Y/N) had stuck around. He let himself get close; he let himself fall in love. And she was still here with him years later.

So, yeah, he didn’t love that a king was taking interest in the woman he loved.

(Y/N) looked over at him. While she was taking it all in, he was sat on the bed with an expression that could only be classified as a pout. She giggled and moved towards the bed. She climbed onto it - literally since the bed was so high up.

“Geez, you could fit, like, ten people in this,” she said. When the Doctor didn’t so much as crack a smile, she poked his side. “Awe, what’s wrong? I thought you wanted to see the castle.”

“I did,” he said. “But now we’ve seen it, and I think we should leave.”

“We can leave in the morning. When will we get the chance to stay in a castle again?”

“We could try again in a few years, when King Harold already has a wife.”

He muttered it, but (Y/N) heard it. An amused smile crossed on her face as she moved closer to him.

“Is someone jealous?” she asked.

The Doctor scoffed. “No, of course not.”

“No, totally. You’re just here literally pouting and being broody because that’s what you do. Of course.” She sat next to him and leaned in so her shoulder was touching his shoulder. “You don’t need to be jealous, you know. We won’t be here for long anyways, and I’m sure his interest in me is just because I am a woman he hasn’t met yet. I’m sure he’s already betrothed to marry someone.”

“Not all kingdoms did betrothals. There were plenty of instances in history where the king was allowed to court whatever woman he wanted and propose to her.”

“Then I’m sure that’s what he’s already done. From what little I know of history, kings his age are supposed to be popping out heirs by now. He probably has a fiancée, and the second we leave he’ll have forgotten about me completely.”

A knock came at the door. (Y/N) got up from the bed and went to open it. Stood there was one of the castle’s maidens with something large in her hands. She curtsied to them both, which caused them to share a look that was a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“Hello, lady (Y/N),” the young woman said. “King Harold has requested I bring this to you. He says he would like for you to wear it when you join him for dinner tonight.”

She passed the object she was holding to (Y/N). As (Y/N) took it, she realized it was a dress. A big, poofy, princess looking dress. If the fabric had been blue or yellow, it would have looked exactly like Cinderella or Belle’s dress. Before (Y/N) could ask anything, the maiden had left. (Y/N) nudged the door closed with her foot and turned back to the Doctor, who looked positively fuming.

“He’ll forget about you completely, hm?” he said.

There was no arguing this time. He had sent her a beautiful gown, and made sure she knew he expected to see her at dinner, but there was no mention of the Doctor joining them. Of course, he was going to anyways, but it was hard to ignore the fact that King Harold was making it very clear that while the Doctor was a guest of the castle, (Y/N) was his guest.

~~~~~~

(Y/N) almost refused to wear the dress, but the Doctor convinced her it would be best to put it on.

“You don’t want to offend him in his own castle,” he reminded her.

Upon seeing her in the dress, the Doctor was able to set aside his jealousy for a moment. She looked absolutely beautiful in it; like a princess. Even though she was trying to hide her delight for the sake of the Doctor’s feelings, he could see that she was ecstatic to be wearing something so beautiful.

He took her hands in his and pulled her close to him. “You look wonderful, my love.”

She beamed at him. “Thank you. Do you think we’d be able to sneak this out tomorrow morning?”

The Doctor chuckled and leaned down to kiss her. While he would rather not carry around the reminder of another man trying to woo her, if (Y/N) wanted to keep the dress, he would make sure they kept it.

Another knock came at the door. (Y/N) moved to answer it again, expecting it to be another maiden. She was surprised to see King Harold stood there instead.

“Your highness,” she said, quickly bowing before she could forget herself.

“No need for that,” King Harold told her. “You are here as my guest. No more need for formalities. I just came to see if you got the present I sent for you.” His eyes wandered over her in a way that made the Doctor’s hands curl into fists. “I see I have gotten my answer.”

“Yes, it’s very lovely. Thank you so much.”

“I’m glad it fit. We have so much clothes laying around the castle from former kings and queens, I was sure there would be something to fit you.”

(Y/N)’s eyes went wide. “This...this belonged to...to a queen?”

“My great grandmother, in fact. The first woman to rule the kingdom on her own. She was near the end of her reign before she met my grandfather, a widower with four children. She married him and took in my grandfather and his siblings.”

It was a lot to process. She was wearing the gown of a former queen. A queen who ruled the country on her own, at a time where that was likely unheard of. She knew the dress had to belong to someone in the castle, but she never even entertained the idea that it belonged to one of King Harold’s ancestors.

She wanted to turn and face the Doctor to share her disbelief with him, but King Harold offered her an arm before she could. “Shall I give you that tour I promised? Dinner will be ready soon, but there is plenty to see between here and the dining hall.”

(Y/N) wasn’t thinking when she accepted the king’s arm. But the Doctor certainly was. He glared at their connected arms as King Harold led (Y/N) from the room. Neither of them had invited the Doctor to come along, but he did anyways. He wasn’t about to leave the two of them alone when it was very clear that King Harold had intentions to make (Y/N) stay in the castle forever.

The king was right in saying there was plenty to see between their room and the dining hall alone. Every hallways was lined with portraits of King Harold’s ancestors. There were official portraits of the rulers themselves, then family portraits of them with their spouses and children. There were many of just the children as well, some looking very professional and some that were obviously painted while the children were at play. King Harold made sure to stop at the pictures of him with his parents.

“I am an only child,” he told (Y/N). “It was very rare. My father had seven siblings himself. And it did not happen due to a lack of trying. Many say that my parents were just not lucky enough to be blessed with a big family.”

There were a number of more health related explanations on the tip of (Y/N)’s tongue, but she knew that was all modern stuff that the king would never understand now.

They finally made it to the dining hall. Just like everything else in the castle, it was a giant room. Probably just as big as the throne room they had been brought into when they first arrived. The table was big enough to seat at least a dozen people, and there was a large stone fireplace set up behind one of the heads of the table - King Harold’s seat, if (Y/N) had to guess. The table was set just for the three of them, with (Y/N) and the Doctor seated across from each other, King Harold in the middle at the head.

I suppose that’s better than being seated on the other end, the Doctor thought to himself.

They took their seats as food was brought into the room. (Y/N) had some struggles to sit, but finally figured out how to arrange the poof of her dress so she could sit comfortably without it being up in her face.

“Are we the only ones dining?” she asked.

“We are the only ones here, besides my staff,” the king responded.

“Your parents aren’t here? Or...or a wife?”

King Harold let out a booming laugh. “No, my parents no longer live here since my father stepped down from being king. That is another rarity, but I would much prefer them to step back and enjoy their older years as opposed to running themselves to death like other rulers usually do. And there is no queen currently. I had yet to pick someone to be my betrothed.”

(Y/N) glanced up at the Doctor. They both noticed King Harold’s choice of word: had.

The meal went on in silence. Or rather, in silence from (Y/N) and the Doctor. King Harold spoke plenty about himself and the history of the land. (Y/N) listened politely, while the Doctor continued to stab at his food.

“Tell me, how does one get into the business of magic?” Harold asked after a while. “It cannot be a profitable line of work for the two of you.”

“Oh...um...” (Y/N) started, trying to come up with a convincible story. “I believe it was the Doctor first who found out he was able to do small tricks. He...well, he met me and I was intrigued enough to follow him in his...journeys.”

The Doctor looked up at (Y/N) and they shared a small smile.

“Yes, but is it truly a fulfilling life?” King Harold asked again.

“I believe so. I have traveled to so many wonderful places that I never would’ve gotten to experience had I not met the Doctor,” (Y/N) said. Quickly she added, “And doing magic, of course. That’s...that’s always...fulfilling.”

“But do you believe you could be happy doing something else? Something more than being the assistant to a traveling magician?”

(Y/N) didn’t like where this was going.

When she didn’t speak, King Harold continued. “See, I have been looking for many years for someone to rule this kingdom by my side. I have met countless princesses and duchesses from other kingdoms, I have met common women from the town, but no one has caught my eye just yet. I am getting to an age where my time to find a wife and to have children of my own is starting to run short, but I am not one to marry just because it is expected of me. I want to marry for love, the way my great grandmother did.”

When King Harold reached for her hand, (Y/N) was too stunned to stop him.

“I believe you would make a perfect queen for this land, my lady,” he said. He started to raise (Y/N)’s hand to his lips when the Doctor suddenly stood, knocking his chair over and the crash putting an end to the moment.

“We’re leaving,” the Doctor said to (Y/N).

“I beg your pardon?” King Harold said.

“I will not stay in this castle for another second and watch you try to proposition my girlfriend.”

“Your what?”

“My love! She is my princess, or queen, or whatever you want to call her.” The Doctor moved around the table to take (Y/N)’s hand and pull her from her seat. “We’re going.”

(Y/N) was nervous that the king would send his guards after them, or at least he would send them after the Doctor and take him away so that King Harold could make her his queen without distraction. To her surprise, he called for someone to show them out. When she looked back at him as they rushed out the door, he seemed genuinely upset for them to go.

The Doctor led (Y/N) through the woods, which had gotten much darker during their time in the castle, and found the TARDIS with ease. He rushed both of them into it and slammed the door behind him. He was muttering to himself, cursing the king and calling him all sorts of names that would’ve gotten his head chopped off if he had said it while they were still in the castle.

After the shock had finally wore off, (Y/N) found control of her body again. She approached the Doctor and put a hand on his shoulder. He instantly fell silent and looked at her.

“I would never say yes,” she said.

“What?”

“To his proposition. I hope you know I would never have said yes to him.”

The Doctor was silent. He looked away from her to face the controls. She realized then that it wasn’t just jealousy that he was feeling.

“Were you worried I would’ve said yes and married him?” she asked.

He didn’t speak at first, but finally he said, “He gave you beautiful clothing, he gave you his undying attention, and he would’ve given you a title that anyone could ever dream of. He could’ve made you a fairytale princess.”

“But he is not you,” (Y/N) said. “Why would I want to spend my life with a man I only just met just because of what physical things he could give me? That is not love. Love is following a man in a bowtie into a police box and letting him take you anywhere in time and space for many years. Love is the willingness to do that again and again and again, because you can’t imagine a life without him anymore.”

There were tears welling up in the Doctor’s eyes. He quickly pulled (Y/N) into an embrace, causing her to laugh as she rested against him.

“I love you,” she said, her voice partially muffled by his tweed jacket.

“I love you, too,” he said.

“And, for the record, maybe you should start calling me your girlfriend when we meet new people. That way they won’t get the wrong idea going forward.”

The Doctor chuckled and pulled away to nod. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

She pulled him in for a kiss.

As they were finally coming down from the high that the trip had brought them, she realized that she was still wearing the dress from King Harold.

“I told you I would figure out a way for you to keep it,” the Doctor said, with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Yeah, all it took was you risking life in a medieval prison,” she teased.

“The things we do for love.”

[icyg4l]

PAC: June 2024 Predictions

Hello beautiful people! Continuing on with my summer 2024, I am kicking off this upcoming June with predictions! I look forward to posting more content relating to this topic and many others. I also want to say that tomorrow, I will be having a Five Dollar Friday Sale so if you would like to receive a reading for a lower price, tomorrow is the day to do so! Without further ado, please choose the image that resonates with you!

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-4)

Pile One: This pile is definitely geared towards femmes of the African diaspora. I feel like you will be more knowledgeable about your culture. You will take more pride in your identity this month. Happy Juneteenth in advance <3! I also feel like this month will be perfect for you to brush up on skills like crocheting, quilt making, jewelry making or sewing. I see that you’re a versatile person who has many sides so do not be afraid to show them. I feel like this month you will be rewarded with recognition due to your connections with women. If you are someone who struggles when it comes to intimacy with women, do not fear what can work for you. This month is crucial for you. I feel like you need to be paying close attention to cameras. People will be videoing you and taking pictures of you heavy this month. You might even go viral. People will also be more generous towards you this month. You may even notice people being more flirtatious with you, offering to pay for your drinks/food, etc. Some of you are going to be traveling down South, specifically Mississippi, Alabama and Georgia. If you have a sexual partner, you will get into an argument with them about something trivial. It will be blown out of proportion but I will say this. There is a reason why you feel the way you feel about them right now. Your gut never lies, love. And lastly, you may get invited to a surplus of dinner dates, picnic dates and family friendly places like Top Golf, Dave N Busters, etc. And be sure to keep your spiritual protection up!

Cards Used: Wheel of Fortune, 7 of Cups, 6 of Cups, 8 of Wands (RX), 5 of Wands, The Star, The Empress, Judgment, King of Wands.

extras: buying hair picks. reaching a fruit tree. jamaican flag. acorns. nature lover. egyptian goddess. play for keeps. buckaroos. monkey island.

Pile Two: Who lit a fire under your ass, Pile Two? I feel like this month will be about spoiling yourself and letting people know that you are not to be played with. It feels like you are finally standing up for yourself after being punked for so long. Think of this time as charging up and gaining your power. This is the era of reclaiming your power. You are going to be realizing your worth and it will feel so good. A lot of you guys are newly single and now you feel spiritually lighter. The weight of your past relationship turned you into someone you weren’t. Healing is not a linear journey so you need to be as patient with yourself as possible. Some of you will be taking up a pottery class, will start pole dancing or start gardening to help you cope with your situation. You are more in control of your situation than you think. It’s time to want better for yourself and to do better for yourself. Out with the old, in with the new is what I heard. If you’ve been talking about starting up a business or starting up a podcast, then get on it! Type up that business plan and brainstorm some topics to talk about (preferably some unrelenting to splitting the bill or the criteria of being a feminine). This month, you could also do some traveling. It could be in the Northern parts of the U.S. or even in the Caribbean. I feel like your main focus will definitely be getting rid of the dead weight though. Clearing up your face, cleaning up your diet, physically cleaning your room, all of that. Just do it!

Cards Used: 5 of Discs, King of Swords, Queen of Swords, Knight of Discs, 6 of Swords, Temperance, 9 of Discs, The Fool

extras: revenge body. health nut. being more strict. podcast listener. kendrick lamar fan. maracas. greece. puerto rico. haitian. fixing insecurities.

Pile Three: You guys are definitely under 5’4”, lol. I feel like you could be an aspiring model or dancer. You could even be an aspiring rapper. I feel like you guys have a resting bitch face and because of it a lot of people accuse you of being mean when you really aren’t. This month, you could find yourself trying to overcompensate for that, lol! You may find yourself doing yard work for your neighbors, putting up flyers for someone’s local business, taking out someone’s trash, moving someone’s car for them, picking up your s/o’s sibling/mother up from work/school. I also see you guys purchasing a new wig with color in it or a pair of Lady Gaga-esque heels from Poshmark or Depop. You guys have a gothic sense of style. During the month of June, you will definitely be partying with the gays (probably only on the weekends though depending on your schedule). Happy Pride Month <3! I think that you guys will be doing things that will get you out of your comfort zone, specifically going out at night. The nightlife will be calling your name, dear. You will be bombarded with attention when this does happen. You are socially awkward but it’s okay, they won’t bite. The environments where you’ll be at will be filled with welcoming characters that make you feel safe. I feel like some of you will be trading services with another business owner (i.e., hairstyle for nail set, reading for reading, etc). Lastly, you guys need to go to karaoke bars, gay bars, go bar diving! Your self-esteem will go up, lol!

Cards Used: The Hermit, King of Cups, 7 of Cups, The Star, 2 of Swords (RX), Strength, 6 of Wands, The Tower.

extras: studded heels. drunk selfies. smoked out eyeliner. dragged. tea. money-hungry. marge simpson. katniss everdeen. facts about the royal kingdom.

Pile Four: This month will mark a special meeting between you and another person. A lot of you guys will be attending a wedding ceremony during this month, if you’re not already getting married. If you are getting married, just know that the stress is worth it dear. The ceremony will go great. But for the single folks, I feel like guys have been having a bad streak when it comes to dating/love. This will change at the wedding reception/ceremony. You will either meet someone who is exactly your type or you will catch the bouquet. I see that this person is tall, bright-eyed and very charming. This person will change your perspective on life. Outside of love, I feel like you guys will be working at some type of charity event. If you work somewhere with children involved, you will be assigned as the leader for the big task. You will handle it well. You could be in your 9H profection year or you could just be looking for your purpose in life. I feel like you will expand on your beliefs. You will visit different places of faith, travel to different neighborhoods and try new foods just to get a new perspective. I also think you will listen to music of different genres more often, specifically music with an island feel to it. If you have a science test coming up, you will pass it. And lastly, I feel like by the end of the month you will be on vacation. Whatever is going on at work will make you want to take a break. I see someone drinking RedBull to get through the day. I am also channeling the movie ‘The Last Holiday’. You should watch it! There is more to life than just working. You have some exploring to do, friend.

Cards Used: 9 of Wands, Temperance, 3 of Wands, The Hierophant, Queen of Cups, 3 of Discs.

extras: moonwalk. euphoria. small fry. tupperware. black lives matter. sagittarius placements. jupiter heavy. buoyancy. shameless (2011).

[ashhh-14]

▨Kabedon▨

Characters- Ayato Kamisato, Diluc Ragnvindr, Kaeya Alberich, Childe, Zhongli, Xiao, Kaedehara Kazuha, Venti, Scaramouche, Dainsleif

Warning- Suggestive in some

Genre- ❃

Format- Imagine

Synopsis- How they would try and do the Kabedon

Masterlist

Ayato Kamisato

The head of Yashiro commission was deep in thought, giving a thought to what his dear servant and friend Thoma said about ' Infliction of ones charm' on their partner. A part of him just wondered if Thoma had been paying a little too many visits to the Yae publishing house but he kicked the thought out, focusing on the plan at hand.

Ayato is always subtle in his ways yet enchanting all the same. He thought it'd somehow be a great idea to kabedon you amidst the corridor of washroom from the main hall where the wedding between the other two prestigious commissions was going on. The hallway may be deserted but the sudden pin against the wall as soon as you existed by none other than your ever charming partner didn't cease to make your heart flutter, breath shuddering with the close proximity of feeling his breath hitting the supple skin as his other hand came up to gently grab a hold of your waist.

"Forgive me for not saying this earlier but" He moved a little, his lips next to your ear as he whispered, "You look absolutely enchanting tonight. " Warmth crept up your face as his lips started placing kisses beneath your ear, hands gripping his shoulders as you breathed, "Ayato you shouldn't- Hah-!" Your breath was caught in your throat as his lips sucked a tender bruise beneath the surface of the kimono on your collar bone. "Hmm? What did you say? " He mused, his chuckle deep as he softly bit on your earlobe before whispering, "Hime-sama"

Diluc Ragnvindr

Diluc seemed to have a special place in his household for Adeline as she has been around for a long time. Saying that the two of you didn't have much time to spend with each other as of late, she suggested that you two should do the special grape picking together with Diluc! Of course Diluc was quick to agree on the suggestion and ask you, wanting to spend some much needed time with his partner. Although his mind couldn't help but think about the teasing remark that Adeline added before ticking away 'May as well corner them for some privacy.'

You two were having a good time so far, picking the grapes for the special batch of wine which Diluc himself takes care of throughout the process, you couldn't help but think how it'd taste once it's done for this season. The wind was light and sun high in the sky when Diluc suggested to take a break, both of you laying on the soft grass beneath in the shade of a tree for a change. You peered your eyes open when you heard a slight rustle, only for your breath to get caught in your throat as you found yourself pinned on the ground by your boyfriend. "Diluc....?" You whispered meekly, wondering about the sudden course of action. "I just wanted to umm..." He gulped, trying to find the right words, " wanted to know how you would react if I were to pin you down." A fond smile graced your lips as you lifted your head a little, placing a feather like kiss on his cheek before whispering, "I thought the day was about grapes but I think I would much rather prefer your cherry red face. " and somehow he flushed a little more after that.

Kaeya Alberich

A person who he met in a whirlwind of fighting a frost storm lawachurl, from getting to know of you as a new recruit of knight of favonius, to you two actually becoming a thing. The possibility wasn't totally out the window given his flirtatious antics but given the powerful and confident aura you surrounded yourself with made it quite a surprise for a lot of people. So when the day came of your return from 3 weeks of you leading an expedition in farther lands, he was delighted and but of course, with a new antique up his sleeve. Your figure entered the quarters in long strides and other knights behind you dispersed, going for a much needed rest as you made your way to Master Jean's office to submit in the report when your movements were halted by gently being pushed against the wall, two arms caging you in a little space. "Not gonna greet me~?" Came a playful whisper of your infamous lover next to your ear when you suddenly got a hold of his arms, gently cradling it before quickly ducking and getting out of his kabedon. "Later lover boy. I gotta submit in the report first." Is all you said with a playful smile before you walked away. You left him amused and enchanted yet again.

Childe

Being The eleventh harbinger's assistant wasn't easy. Being constantly overloaded with paperwork, submitting reports of regular statistics to other harbingers, having to polish fighting skills everyday, accompanying him to overseas businesses was no easy task. And to top it all off, his flirtatious remarks didn't help. Sure he was serious when he needed to be, but a moment extra was spent in teasing or flirting with you. You would be lying if you said that you didn't find him attractive, and his antics didn't help the case.

Currently being on a mission in Liyue, Childe gave you a wave off to go and enjoy yourself after the day prior's hardwork which you gladly appreciated. Only as the day descended, sun sinking down the horizon did you see his crouched form looking at a distance from behind an obscure wooden planck. You walked up to him, crouching just behind him, "Childe?" His moments were swift as grabbed your shoulder, his other hand covering your mouth as your back pressed up against the wooden planck, him head now ducked even further and much closer to yours. You felt your face heat up as your eyes met his, his breath fanning your face. "I am keeping an eye on someone. Be quite. " is all he whispered before lowering his hand from your mouth, eyes searching for the target as your eyes had nowhere to look at but his chest.

Zhongli

You were exiting your office, a small stack of paper in hands as suddenly a figure towered over yours, soon making you realize that none other than your boss was pinning you to a wall. You felt yourself heat up, covering half of your face with the papers as you asked, " Mr. Zhongli, is something wrong?" You wanted to be as professional as possible despite the bond you two share outside of work but the option seemed far with your lover's antics. "Hm? According to the knowledge I got from an experienced woman on the docks of Liyue, this action should have lit up a 'spark' of sorts in my love interest." You felt his breath on your face as he came closer, taking a long look in your eyes. "You don't seem that much affected though. I think I should ask for something more effective next time."

Xiao

Taking a stroll in the forests of Liyue was always a peaceful moment with Xiao. His hand gently holding yours. The physical touch would have made him embarrassed but not here, away from prying eyes as he basks in your calming presence. You breathed a sigh, taking a breath of fresh air as you momentarily closed your eyes, but it was perhaps not a wise choice as you stumbled upon a rock, about to fall face first and by the suddenness of it all, pulling Xiao down with you. Even his reflexes spoke care as he flipped around before falling, falling on his back as your head hit his chest instead of the harsh ground. You slowly opened your eyes, about to get up when you realised your position, your eyes trailing to his which were already looking at you. A shaky breath left your lips as he leaned upwards, his lips gently coming in contact with yours and before you realised, your back was against the ground, his one hand supporting your head while the other intertwined with yours, pinning in to the ground. Passionate kisses never ceased as his head turned to the side, deepening the kiss.

Kaedehara Kazuha

The winds made him catch on your good mood earlier in the day. His own spirits at ease knowing you're okay and no better way than to take a stroll while picking up some sweet flowers now is there? A mindless tune being hummed by your lips, looking at the flowers in the basket but somehow the object at hand was fallen on the ground the next second, feeling of bark quick to be felt by your back as you found one of your hands above your head, intertwined with none other than your lovers. A soft gasp left your lips at the sudden action, your heart thundering like the Inazuman lightning in your chest as you felt him lift your chin, his tender and longing gaze taking in your features before his lips were gently placed upon yours. Your eyes closed on its on, the free hand bunching up his haori as your lips moved against his. He pulled away with a soft sigh, his face nuzzling in your neck as he softly nibbled at the flesh. His actions made it clear on how long today is going to be. He was away on the crux for quite a while after all.

Venti

He had a great day. What better way to end it than in the all too famous tavern hm? Maybe Diluc was a bit [alot] late in stopping the bard today, having his figure sprawled out on his counter was not the best sight after all. The tavern owner let out a sigh on how me has to leave the bard at his house again but suddenly the door opened, none other than you chiming in. "Apologies on being late. " You smiled apologeticly.

Of course the events brought you here. Here you were, pinned to your bed by none other than your very drunk lover as he showered you with unstoppable kisses to every inch of your face as you giggled with each one of them, his incoherent mumbling "sweet lover" "my pretty partner" not helping the case as your mind raced on how to put the bard to sleep with whichever sanity that was left in you.

Scaramouche

It was a little past midnight. The moon high in the sky shining through the windows as you read your book, awaiting your lover's return so you both can go to sleep. It wasn't long before you heard the door open, the all too familiar hat disregarded on the table as the door shut. "Hard day?" Was the only mumble that left your lips but silence was the only thing that returned before you found his figure on top of yours, his head nuzzled in your neck, his breath ticking your skin as he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace. You wanted to rub his back but the lack of movement space prevented it so you instead opted to hum a mindless tune, until eventually his loosened. One of your arms snaking free, you cradled his head against you as you ran your fingers through his hair. He was right. His only semblance was here.

Dainsleif

You wondered if Wolvendom was a secret home for your lover given how much time you two spent strolling there. This time was slightly different though. The weather was quick to change as it started raining heavily, getting you two wet in the process.

The fire crackling noise was filling up the space as both of yours upper layers of clothing laid in front of it. You sighed, slight cold nipping at your bare skin. "Are you cold?" Your eyes lifted up at him, suddenly aware of the close proximity and slight nudity. "A little.." Your eyes tried looking at anywhere but his handsome form, but that didn't stay for long as you found your back pressed against the wall of the cave, his soft lips coming in contact with yours in a heated exchange. The next thing you felt was his warm hand trailing up your figure, the temperature contrast sending shivers down your spine as the night and fire only intensified further.

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

Written by Yours truly

Ash

[1800jjbarnes]

𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

【Synopsis】 : You were the youngest of three princesses, and your parents were being paid off from another kingdom in order to marry the cruel, cold king. But the upside, he doesn't seem so cruel...ish

『Word count』 :  1.7k

-> Genre: Suggestive, Fluff, Angst. Royal Au.   

Paring: King!Bucky x Queen!Reader   

[Warnings] : Steve touching Readers Thigh to rile up Bucky. Mentions about past, fingering, making out, pet names. Use of the name slut. Dom Possessive Bucky with a side of Bratty Reader.

Masterlist | Navigation

It was only the biggest event in the history of the kingdom. The lonely prince that became king from a tragic event, James Buchanan Barnes, finally is wedded. His uncle finally persuaded him to get married. Married for money, that is. James still remembers when his mother would tell him stories about finding his true love as she did with his father. The love was unbreakable and unconditional. But time caught up, love became a myth, and James was alone. That was until he saw you. You were like an angel amongst men, as cheesy as that might sound. You were perfect, and then you were with him. But not the way he wanted you. He wanted to court you first, swoon you, pick you up off your feet. Have real love, but an arranged marriage doesn’t really scream true love.

So here he sat, on one of the garden chairs, watching as his brothers. Well, his knights that serve under his court. A bond fire blazing, wine, and food arrayed over the large marble table. James ordered for no one to bother him or his knights while they were out, leaving him in peace and quiet for a moment. You, his wife, sat on your chair, alone, away from everyone, watching the knights dance and sing. He watched you from afar, his heart was beating so fast, he wanted to get to know you, to really love you. But you definitely weren’t happy about the marriage, then again, you weren’t happy with your life in general.

Your kingdom was small but had power. Your parents were strict, rude, and cruel. They didn’t care about anything but the kingdom. You were the youngest of three, so you were never going to be queen in your kingdom. But that made you happy. You wanted to run away, live in the woods, be free, and being the youngest made that possible. That was until your parents sold you, so your kingdom could grow. You hated James because he agreed. You hated James because even despite all the weeks you’ve spent as his wife, you were falling in love with him. His smile, his charm, the way he would do anything to please you even if he doesn’t directly say it or do anything.

But you still hated him, and for that, so you sit alone, watching all the boys have their fun. Steve was the first to move away from the group, taking a seat down next to you. You could smell the moonshine on his breath. His smile was gloriously plastered on his face. You smiled back as he picked up a conversation. You were vaguely listening though, as you catch your eyes on Bucky. He was staring directly at you and the flirtatious male that sits beside you. You turn your attention completely on Steve, touching his shoulder, giggling at his stories, giving James a show.

His hand landed on your thigh. It was merely innocent, but to James, it was like Steve just declared war. You continued this array of flirts and quiet whispers, making sure to glance over at Bucky every now and again. He was furious, holding his drink tight in his grip. His knuckles turn white, and his strength gets the better of him, shattering the glass in his grip. Silence fell seeing the glass everywhere.

“Y/n…” His voice was low, filled with anger. You’ve never heard him like this before, and it turned you on. But you stayed strong, not moving an inch from your spot. The others, however, moved away from you quickly, standing behind the king. Even if they were brothers and Bucky treated them like equals, they knew not to get in his way when he was mad.

“Y/n….Now!” He stormed past you towards the garden entrance back into the castle. You gulped, maybe you went over the edge. But you were here now. So you got up from your spot and quickly left the knights without a goodbye. Since spending your time exploring the estate, you already knew where James would be. Coming face to the dark spruce door, you knock before entering. You see the fireplace was lit. The room was warm from the flame. He sat on the deep blue velvet couch, sipping a neat glass of scotch.

“Your grace…” You whisper, stepping closer.

“I’ve told you before, call me James. I’m your husband, not some god for you to worship…” He spat out the last bit of his sentence, feeling tired of people grovelling at his feet.

“But you are my King, James.” Your words hit him straight in the gut, making him have a low growl. You sat down on the end of the couch, leaning against the arm of it. You place your legs up, feeling the velvet on the souls of your feet. He watches you like you were his prey, placing his glass down, he chuckles lightly.

“I’d watch what you say, doll face. You’re on thin ice after the stunt you pulled tonight.” His eyes were red, filled with rage, or was it desire?

“Ah My lord got his panties in a twist because he’s not getting his way.” You giggled, slipping off your shall that sat on your shoulders, no longer needing it to keep warm. He clicks his tongue before grabbing your ankle, yanking you towards him. You yelp as he situates you on his lap, gripping tight on your ass under your loose nightdress.

“You don’t want to piss me off, my Queen. I don’t think you’ll like me when I’m mad.” He grunts, his lips, mere inches from yours. You feel his breath pool on your skin, shivering at his touch. Butterflies burst in your tummy, forcing a whimper to spill from your mouth.

“Oh, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you? I can feel your body burning. My, My, you’re just a slut. A brat needing to be put in her place.” He grunted, feeling your hips slide long his clothed crotch. He bites your ear, licking your hot skin down your jaw to your neck. A gasp leaves you as he roughly bites on your flesh, leaving a hot, red mark. You grip his shoulders as his arms snake around your waist, trapping you on him. Your hips move faster, and the need to feel pleasure tugging with great force.

“J-James…” You mewled, gripping the fabric.

“I thought it was Lord? Or King? Where did my Bratty doll go?” He chuckled, pleased with how obedient you’ve become from only just a small amount of pleasure.

“Bucky…” You replied, whimpering. He gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks before letting them go to give it a hard slap.

“Oooh Bucky? That’s a new one.” He laughed, sounding like he mocked you. His hand lifted up your dress completely, exposing your bottom half. Your skin prickled at the air, hitting it while his hands massaged the flesh. His mouth attached to your neck again, falling down to the top of your exposed breast, leaving marks to contrast your skin.

One of his hands glide up your thigh until it sat in between your bodies. His long fingers, press down on your clit through your panties, making you whimper. He chuckled as he rubs circles, feeling a wet patch growing on the pink lace.

Before he continued, you sat up, placing your hands on his chest. Looking into his eyes, he looked up at you. You looked so vulnerable, so innocent, so….sad… He suddenly felt guilt, placing his hand that sat on your ass to the side of your face, rubbing his thumb over your lips. You lent into his touch, feeling safe with him. Your past was filled with lies, hatred, and yet the minute you were forced to be married to someone you didn’t even know. It was the happiest day of your life.

“I-…I do love you, James.” You spoke up, making him wide-eyed. “The moment I saw you I knew you were kind, loving…I might not have wanted to marry you at first, but I don’t regret it…” This was the first time you had a conversation about your marriage with him. Normally, you both brushed off the conversation, not wanting to make each other uncomfortable. He let out a sigh, dropping his hand from your cheek, leaning his head back on the couch before sitting up to look at you again.

“I feared you’d hate me for what we went through…..” His voice became soft, no longer the grunt, gravel that it was prior, “You are the most caring person I’ve ever met, I didn’t nor do I ever want to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me.” You placed your hands on either side of his face, looking at him with a slight panic. He could see the stars in your eyes up close when he could only look afar. This made him smile, feeling a sense of relief. You lent your forehead on his, closing your eyes. He rubbed his nose against yours, feeling comfort in the silence.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, whispering so quietly you almost didn’t hear him. You replied with a soft yes, feeling a tear fall along your cheek. His lips slotted with yours, the hot pink flesh fitting perfectly together. This is the first time you’ve kissed one another, not even sharing a kiss on your wedding day. He sighs into your lips, feeling all the tension, all this hatred for his life, all the sadness, washing away from just a kiss. His world seemed so much brighter, the love that his mother would talk about finally finding its way back. You were the one to break the kiss, grabbing air as you pulled away. A smile left on his face as looked at you with adoring eyes.

“Just so you know…” His voice was soft, but hidden with lust, leaning forward to your ear he whispered, “You’re still getting punished for what you did tonight.”

And like that, he lifted you up, carrying you to his bed, keeping to his promise.

[sweetpascal]

— 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐨, 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝

pairing: knight!marcus acacius x princess!reader

pinterest board inspo

summary: an arranged marriage in the works. one on one jousting for your honor. celebratory feasts and extravagant dances. it all seemed exciting. however, as a princess with your mind on becoming a Dame, along with your father's main knight making sure you are always on your best behavior, some dreams are just meant to be crushed.

warnings: MINORS DNI, big age gap [reader is 19 and marcus is 54], slowwww burn, medieval times au, possible historical inaccuracies [maybe ??], reader has hair long enough to braid, father-daughter relationship issues, first kiss, forbidden love, non-sexual touching, flirtatious banter, allusions to sex, sword fighting, TW: major character death, TW: blood and gore, angst angst angst

wc: 21.6k (i maayyyyy have gone a bit overboard with this one)

notes: this is my submission for @almostfoxglove 's angst writing challenge (beautiful moodboard created by her). i'm not gonna lie, this is gonna be ANGSTYYYYYYY. so please, grab your tissues and hold on for dear life. sword divider by the wonderful @saradika-graphics ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

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Wiping the sweat from your brow, you exerted yourself once more. Swinging the heavy sword almost the same length as your body and slamming the blade repeatedly onto the side of the wooden post right by the outskirts of the woods. Blisters had begun to form on your palms from the improper protection needed, but the care you had for gloves was thrown to the back of your mind. Little grunts heavily exhaled from your throat each time you swung the sword down and around, further adding slice and slice into the mangled wood post. Feeling the burning sensation in your chest intensify, you had decided now would be a good time to rest.

You placed yourself on the nearest rock and laid the sword across your lap. Gently stroking your blistered thumb over the engraved markings of your older deceased brother's name towards the handle. He lost his life like a true knight in battle. His death was so long ago but it felt like yesterday. You remembered the morning he left. He had hoisted you up into his arms with the promise that he would return. When Marcus Acacius, your father's knight, returned back to the castle with your brother's bloodied sword in his hands, you knew. Almost a decade long feud with no success or improvement. With your brother's sword now in your possession, even though your father doesn't approve of a princess having such a manly hobby, it was your goal to finish what he started. Whether your father, the king, liked it or not, you would rather die fighting than be married off.

"Why am I not surprised that I would find you here, princess?"

Turning at the sound of the distinct voice that is of Knight Acacius, you observe the way his lips quirk into a tired grin. One of his arms lays limp at his side while the other rests on the handle of his sword attached to his hip. He wears only his chest plate with the yellow markings of your father's castle, as well as an engraved crow. It was the same as the flags that hung around the interior and exterior.

"Why am I not surprised that you would follow me out here, Marcus?" You retort, nose scrunching at the sound of his deep laughter from your sassy question.

He comes closer now, eyeing the wood post that has been abused from your sharp sword. Marcus has been your father's knight since before you were born. He had started as an esquire when he was just a teen boy. Your grandfather had been king at that point. When the title was passed down to your father, he deemed Marcus as worthy of getting a ranking higher. He earned the title, of course. Knight Acacius was a hardworking man. He did what needed to be done in a timely manner. He kept you and your father safe. He did everything to keep the king happen, and you could see that it was paying off.

"Your father sent me to get you. It's time for you to get ready for the tournament," he tells you quietly, already knowing your opinions on the matter.

When you let out a scoff at his words, Marcus nods to himself as if to say 'Yep, there it is.' There's a long beat of silence as he waits for you to gather your thoughts and express them through words. Unlike your father, Marcus has always been a patient man, which works perfectly with his title. There have been long nights after hours where you've poured your heart out to him; your unhappiness, your fears, your worries, your dreams. He always lent you an ear and shoulder to cry into you.

"Tournament," the word was bitter on your tongue. With an eye roll that made Marcus hold back a chuckle, you stood up and made your way back to the post. "You mean the sad excuse of a competition where men compare whose cock is the biggest for me to suck?"

Marcus choked on his spit at the vulgarity of your words. When you looked over your shoulder and gave him a teasing smile that expressed your youth, he took a half step back with widened eyes. He shook his head at himself and cleared his throat to make it feel less constricted. Why is his heart beating so fast? Why is he sweating? Why are his hands trembling? All of which had happened after you shot him that teasing little smile if yours. Oh, this was bad.

Wincing once again as one of the maidservants snagged your hair accidentally, you couldn't help but to grow annoyed. Not at the older woman, but at the idea that princesses are supposed to always be prim, proper, and innocent. She apologized softly with a guilty smile at you in the mirror. Like Marcus, Celeste had been in your family for a long time. You saw her almost as a mother figure. Closer to your father's age, Celeste had stepped up in helping your father raise you and your brother after the death of your mother. She had succumbed to her injuries during your birth, and you always felt like your father harbored a deep animosity towards you.

"I know you're not fond of these braids, princess," she tells you quietly, her wrinkly eyes glancing at you briefly before looking down at her fingers in your hair. "But it's just for today."

Letting out a small, soulless laugh, you tell her, "Father always has a trick or two up his sleeve, Celeste. You know that. Marcus knows that. The whole castle knows that. He may say one thing and mean another. That's just how he is, I guess." The little shrug you give her makes her tut.

"I do know," she says quietly, reaching over your shoulder to grab a few flower stems to slide them into your braids, almost creating a delicate flower crown. "And I also know that this is not the life you see for yourself."

You look at her in shock through the mirror. She gives you barely a nod and cascades the rest of your hair behind your back to comb through the wavy strands. There are a few beats of silence as you sit and wonder. Has Marcus gone behind your back and told her your secrets? Has she overheard one of the nights where you and the knight sat in seclusion? Has she read your diary? All of these questions are rushing through your mind before you could stop them. What if she tells your father? What if he isolates you permanently?

"I know what you're thinking and it's not true," she speaks up when she sees your eyes darting back and forth frantically. She feels your shoulder deflate with relief. She stops brushing your hair and rests her chin atop your head. You both look at each other in the mirror. "Your mother was a very intimidating woman. That's what drew your father in and made him fall in love with her. He sees so much of her in you, and that's why he's trying to hold onto you as tight as he can for the time being."

Feeling a tickle in your nostrils and a lump forming in your throat, your eyes shut before you could let tears spill over the bottom lid.

"I... I can't go on like this, Celeste," you whisper brokenly, finally turning in your seat to look up at her. Your breathing becomes shuddering as the emotions begin to overwhelm you. "I wasn't born to become a wife." You started to become angrier the more you spoke. "I'm not a child anymore! No man shall tell me what to do! Not my father, not Marcus, not any other king or prince! I was put on this earth to fight like William!" Uttering your brother's name from your trembling lips finally let the dam break.

Celeste was quick to bring you into her arms, hushing you softly and tenderly holding your head against her chest. Your shoulders shook with each sob that wracked through your body. You were exhausted and honestly, scared. Maybe this was really it. Maybe your dreams will always be dreams. You're going to die as a wife and not as a warrior.

"Oh, dear child," Celeste whispers and pulls your head from her chest to gently hold your cheeks, her thumbs swiping away the tear tracks so as to not ruin your light makeup. "You are going to do great things. And you are going to be a great woman. It will take time, but you will see it happen. Now, give me a smile."

Hearing her encouragement and reassurance, feeling the safety in her arms, you were finally able to calm down and steady your breathing. As she swipes a knuckle under your eye to wipe away a lonesome tear, you give her a little smile and laugh to yourself at your outburst.

"There she is," she smiles as well, her wrinkles much more prominent. She fixes your makeup and turns you back around to face the mirror. Your hair falls over your shoulders on either side, the ends curled elegantly. You really do look like a true princess. In another world, you would've been happy. But you didn't look, nor did you feel like yourself. However, the proud look on Celeste's face silenced those thoughts. "You look just like your mother when she was your age."

There was a gentle rapt at the door. Celeste called out for them to enter, and it was Marcus. He gives the older woman a nod before he sets his eyes on you. When you make eye contact with him through the mirror, it feels like time has slowed down. It feels like all the air had gotten knocked out of him, and he has half a mind to grab his chest as his heart nearly beats out of the flesh. Your cheeks warmed at his obvious attention to you. It was rare for him to see you looking like this. You never wore makeup, your hair was almost never done prettily, you loathed dresses. But sitting here right now looking like a princess, having his eyes on you made you feel beautiful for once. He didn't leer. Matter of fact, he never leered at you as though you were a piece of meat. Some of the feasts that your father has thrown in the past made you uncomfortable with the amount of unwanted attention you would get from men that were desperate to court you.

But it never felt like that with Marcus. He respected you. He respected how you perceived yourself, he understood your ambitions and what you can see yourself doing down the line. You were an inspiration to him. Princesses at your age are already married and having their second child by now. Never would a princess touch a sword. But you handle one like an expert on the battlegrounds. Marcus would never admit it aloud, but he would love to see you fight. With your years of training, he knows for a fact that you would put up one hell of a fight. He only wishes your father was more accepting of that matter.

When you stand from your seat in front of the mirror, Marcus swallows down his gasp of awe. You wore a soft pink, floor length gown with white gold trimming that accentuated your curves. The neckline was low and tasteful, but nothing too extreme that would be considered inappropriate as a princess. The candlelight makes you glow like an angel. The flowers in your hair as well as the soft makeup adds to the delicacy. Celeste stands behind you to clip on a pearl necklace and some dangly earrings that match.

"Please, don't make fun of me," you give Marcus a small, embarrassed laugh as he still hasn't said anything upon seeing you. "You can make all the jokes you want after the feast, yes?"

Celeste tuts and lightly swats at your arm. The knight hasn't looked away from you. Even as you cross the other side of the room to grab your soft pink slippers with sewn beads that match the colors of your gown. You preferred your calf-high leather boots.

"Do you need a glass of water, Marcus? You look like you've seen a ghost," Celeste says behind your back as you bend down to slide on the surprisingly comfortable slippers.

He clears his throat when you look at him once again with a bashful smile. He takes a step forward to you. Without even realizing it, his hand reaches up to your hair to fix a flower stem that was out of place. It was until Celeste obnoxiously cleared her throat that he realized what he was doing. You both broke eye contact, both feeling like you were caught doing unspeakable acts. She stares at you with squinted eyes, then at Marcus. He shifts uncomfortably under her scrutinizing gaze. He clears his throat again.

"The king, uh, requests your presence, my princess," he briefly stutters when you make eye contact again, but he looks away before it could reach two seconds.

My princess. He always called you 'princess,' or occasionally your name. But he never included 'my.' It caught you off guard, and you feel like Celeste noticed because she nods at Marcus and shoos him away. He gives her a brief nod and leaves the room. Now, it was just you and the older maidservant. As she gives you one last touch up, she looks at the door and then at you.

"Whatever you're thinking, don't."

And with that, she ushers you out the door.

Your cheeks were hurting from the number of fake smiles you were giving all the guests. Your arm was aching from shaking all the hands of other kings, queens, princes, princesses, and all the like. In the corner of the dining hall was a small band playing music. They each looked at peace playing their music. They looked in their element, doing what they enjoy. Envy clawed at your chest. Looking away with a scowl, you focused on your chalice filled with the finest wine brought specially from one of the kingdoms visiting for the feast. You can hear your father's boisterous laughter across the hall as he sits with one of the king's. His face was flushed, and you knew he's had more than a few cups of wine.

You sit on your designated throne and observe the party before you. One of the jester's stops in front of you. He does a little dance, the bells on his shoes and hat jingling. It brings a smile to your lips, and then you start laughing. Jesters were one of your favorite people to witness during these times. They offered a temporary distraction and left you feeling lighthearted. Upon hearing your laughter, the jester stops dancing goofily and reaches a hand up to you. Your hand enters his and he gently kisses the top before dancing away to entertain the other guests.

"Looks like you have an admirer," you hear from above your seated position.

You look up and see Marcus leaning against the top of your throne, his arm stretched across it with his thumb tapping at the carvings. He rests his other hand on the handle of his sword. You've noticed that it was a habit of his, even when there was no danger around. Grinning up at him, you shake your head.

"Well, it's better than having a spineless prince as an admirer," you tell him half-jokingly, taking a small sip of your wine and looking back to the crowd.

Marcus also observes the crowd silently. The king was talking to one of the queen's and her son, the older man motioning behind him in your direction. When the prince looks at you, Marcus can see you recoil. There was an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Having been in the family for decades, he's grown fond of you. Being able to witness you grow into the beautiful young woman you are today was a blessing. Your personality shines even brighter. Your quick wit and sharp tongue often deemed him speechless. It was a breath of fresh air compared to the other princesses he has met in his lifetime. You weren't like the others.

"Well," he clears his throat to capture your attention once more. "At least you get to see these spineless princes joust for your honor and courtship. The one in the blue tunic looks like a starved lamb."

The insult causes you to choke on your wine, some of it spitting out and landing on your dress as you break into a bubbly fit of laughter. Marcus muffles his own laughter by biting down on his bottom lip. Your father claps his hands loudly and makes a motion for the band to ease their music completely.

"Attention, guests! As you all know, my dear daughter, the princess, is up for courtship. It is my duty as her father, the king, to ensure that she has a safe and fulfilling marriage. Which is why we are holding this tournament!" There was a round of applause, and you find it so hard to not roll your eyes. "For the one prince to earn the honor of courting my daughter, you must fight valiantly, live honorably, and go forth courageously!" There was another round of applause, some even whistling. "Now, please make your way out to the field and get comfortable while the princes get ready to joust!"

The crowd cheered one last time before some of your father's knights led them out to the roped-off enclosure outside of the castle. Marcus held a hand to you, gently grasping and pulling you up from your seat. The distance between your bodies was short. He can smell your sweet perfume and see the shimmering of your eyeshadow. He prays to the gods above that you couldn't hear how fast his heart was beating. If only he knew that you were feeling the same way. From how close he stood in front of you, the gray in his beard was much more prominent and his thick hair looked curlier than usual. He smelled like a mix of leather, musk, and a woodsy, scented oil he must've purchased from one the markets along the outskirts of the castle. It was overwhelming, having him so close to you. Your lips parted, and you caught the way his eyes darted down to look at them.

"My daughter," you hear your father's footsteps coming closer, and you step away from Marcus who quickly broke eye contact to greet your father. "You have stained your gown!"

You looked down and noticed the dark wine droplets. Giving your father a sheepish smile, you offer him a kiss on the cheek as an apology. He claps a hand on Marcus' shoulder, both men now falling into a conversation about the tournament for your hand in marriage. Celeste ushers you down from your throne, her left hand holding your right as her right arm is around your back.

"Don't think I haven't noticed the way you look at Knight Acacius," she tells you in a hushed voice. You look at her in shock, your lips parted to disagree. But when you see her pointed look, you decide to keep your mouth shut. Sighing quietly as you both round the corner of the stone halls, you speak up.

"It's not like that, Celeste," you tell her. "Marcus just... He knows how I feel about... all of this. It's all so overwhelming. There's nothing I can do to change my father's mind, so I might as well play the part as the obedient princess."

When you both reach outside, you can hear the faintness of Marcus' voice a few feet away from you with your father's voice in tow. You and Celeste stand beside each other in silence as you scan the crowd sitting in their seats around the dirt pit specifically for when the knights are training.

"You know," Celeste began. "Your mother never wanted this life for you either." You look at her with interest. She nods at the curiosity in your eyes.

Giving you her typical wink, she motions for you to climb the steps to sit in your throne. You were high up now, the pit directly in the middle of your view with the crowd on either side. Your father sits beside you with a huffed groan and affectionately pats your knee.

"We have quite the rally, don't we?" He sloppily drinks from his jeweled chalice. You cringe and look away. Marcus stands to your father's left with his arms crossed in position, his back straight and broad with authority. He feels eyes on him, and he turns to face you, dropping his right eye in a wink before looking straight ahead again. You look out into the crowd with warm cheeks as you bite down on your bottom lip to keep your smile from spreading.

Two of the esquires blew the fellow buisines to start the tournament. The crowd silenced as well as your father. Two princes on two horses came out of the small tunnel and stood on either side of a horizontal wooden post, both on opposite sides of each other, facing one another. Both men were dressed head to toe in armor with the feathered colors of their kingdom on top of their helmets. In their hands were wooden lances. There was a tense silence in the air as the princes readied themselves. When the buisines blew once more, both men charged at each other on their horses with the lances pointing at once another chest level.

There was a booming clang of wood against metal as the lance from the prince on the right slammed into the chest of the prince on the left. Some of the wood splintered and nearly exploded from the force. The crowd gasped and proclaimed with shock. The left prince fell off his horse and landed hard on the ground. The crowd clapped for him as the right prince galloped around the pit in a celebratory manner. His arrogant gloating was a turn-off. It worsened when he lifted his helmet and looked at you up above, blowing a kiss in your direction with his hand. You let out a scoff of disgust. Marcus hides his laugh by coughing into his fist.

There was another hour of this jousting. Then, there were the top two princes – the Prince of Ehnkhart and the Prince of Ivanard. Both princes were unappealing to look at and had the personalities of a wet rag. You'd rather marry one of the jesters.

When the Prince of Ivanard was deemed the winner, you almost had to fight back a gag as the bile grew at the back of your throat. You certainly were not going to marry that yellow-toothed, spineless bastard. Your father bellowed in his seat happily as the crowd roared with delight when the prince threw his fist into the air and pointed at you. Glancing at Marcus with an expression he could only describe as horror, his face morphed into something grim. He bit his tongue to stay silent. He couldn't say anything, even if he wanted to. That was not his duty as a knight. And one of the main priorities was to never go against the king under any circumstances.

"My dearest daughter," your father lets out a full bellied laugh as he takes both of your hands in his. "You are now going to be an Ivanard!"

When the buisines blew in a celebratory manner, the crowd cheered louder as your father clapped. Everything was booming and overwhelming. You can feel it all closing in on you. Your ears began ringing and your breathing became shallow and unsteady. Sweat dotted along your hairline. Your eyes frantically scanned the crowd for Celeste, needing her kind eyes to lay upon your frightful ones and her motherly touch. The vibrations of the crowd stomping their feet could be felt underneath your own.

"My daughter, come and meet your husband! He is most excited to see you!" Your father yanked you up roughly before you had time to register what was happening.

"Your daughter is even more beautiful up close, your majesty," the Prince of Ivanard tells your father as he snatches your hand and kisses your knuckles with his dry lips. The feel of his thick ginger beard had you snatching your hand away. He looks at you with surprise and offense.

Your father laughs awkwardly and roughly pats your shoulder. "She's just a bit shy. Aren't you, my dear?"

The prince laughs awkwardly as well, shifting on his feet and accidentally bumping into Marcus. The knight stares down at him sternly with hidden disdain. The prince grips your shoulder and tries to lead you away as he says, "Well, princess, why don't we get to know each other one on one before we further our courtship, yes?"

Upon hearing that, you've had enough. You yanked your shoulder away from his grimy grip and backed away from the men crowding in on you. Your father's white eyebrows furrow and you can practically feel his temper rising. Marcus steps a foot closer to him in case he would need to intervene.

"No," you spoke through clenched teeth. Your fists tightened at your sides as your breathing grew heavy and fast with each passing second.

Your father looks at you, then at the prince, then at Marcus, then back at you. "No?" He mocks your answer. As he takes a step towards you, you take another step back.

"You heard me, father," you shakily spoke as your voice wavered and grew weaker. "You will not marry me off to a swine." You spit the word at the prince who scoffs in offense. "You will not force your values onto me as though I am a lesser woman to you. I will not live an unhappy life and ignore my capabilities."

The crowd's cheering gets quieter and quieter until they stop completely upon noticing the tense atmosphere around you and your father. Marcus feels pride and fear bubbling in his chest. He knew just how much you were holding in when it came to your father. He never expected now would be the time for it to spill out all at once. You harbored a different kind of courage that he admired. Any other princess would have kept their mouths shut and gone through an unhappy marriage. Ever since you were a child, you were always independent and following your eldest brother's footsteps, wanting to be just like him when you reached adulthood. Being a woman in this life wasn't easy, that's for sure.

"Capabilities," your father scoffed and waved you off with a hand as though you were a fly. He half turned away and glared at you. "And what capabilities might you speak of, my dear daughter?" The way he speaks to you was demeaning and you've never felt so belittled in your entire life.

When you glanced at Marcus over your father's shoulder, he subtly shook his head disapprovingly. That was his way of silently telling you to not poke the bear and make the situation worse by adding more coal to the fire. To be honest, he was terrified of the outcome. Your father was not a violent man, but he was a scary man when he was rage filled. Looking back at your father, he raised his eyebrows at you.

"I want to be a fighter," you tell him quietly, like a little mouse. "I want to continue William's legacy and ride into battle with his sword and finish what was started."

There was light, gossiping chatter that was faintly heard between the guests who observed everything. You had almost forgotten that you stopped the courtship celebration. Your father stood frozen in his place. His jaw ticked and his hands trembled. Marcus stepped closer and placed a hand on his shoulder, about to speak into his ear but your father held a hand up, further silencing his knight.

"You listen to me, girl," your father spoke lowly as he stepped closer to your frozen frame. "You will never be like my son." Hearing those words had you choking on a heartbroken gasp. "You will never have the strength of a man to become a powerful fighter like my son." He steps closer and closer. "You will never be nothing more than a dutiful wife that will bear children to continue your husband's legacy."

Smelling the wine on his breath had you recoiling. Each cruel word spewing from his lips adds a crack to your heart. These were the words you were afraid to hear. Having them told to your face in front of the public added to the crushing embarrassment. You couldn't break down. Not now, especially not in front of your father and Marcus, who stands behind with a somber look on his face.

Staring into your father's wild eyes, you brokenly whispered, "He may have been your son, but he was my brother and my greatest friend, and I will continue his legacy whether you like it or not."

He swallowed thickly and realized you weren't going to back down obediently like he thought.

"Marcus!" He barked, causing the shoulders of his knight to jump. "Take her to her chambers and lock the door. She will stay there until I believe that she is ready to come out."

"Absolutely not!" You shouted in his face, the fire in the pit of your stomach growing heavier as you hear those words. "You will not imprison me!"

"And you will not disrespect me in front of our guests, child!" He all but bellowed in your face, some spittle landing on your cheeks and nose. You flinched your head away but didn't move a step back as he got into your space. "You will follow your orders as a princess and do as I say!"

Marcus finally creates space between you and your father. Celeste had run up the wooden steps of the viewing post to step in front of your father to place her hands on his chest. The Prince of Ivanard stood silently as he didn't want to get in between a family feud, especially since the angry king was his soon-to-be father-in-law.

"Let's go, princess," Marcus speaks softly in your ear, his large hand tenderly holding your arm to usher you away from drama.

As he finally, and successfully, pulled you away, you passed by your father and shouted over your shoulder to let your final words hurt him. "God damn you!"

There was a collective gasp amongst the crowd, and you were finally ushered away in the hands of Marcus.

It had been almost three weeks since the argument between you and your father. He had followed through with his promise of locking you in your chambers. You thought it was to scare you, but once you heard the lock click and you attempted to open your door, you stepped away in shock. Marcus tried to get your father to change his mind, to change his ways, but it was no use. Your father was a stubborn, stubborn man. Celeste even tried to talk your father out of this harsh treatment, but she too was waved off. The only time you were allowed out was for dinners in the dining hall which only consisted of you and your father sitting at opposite ends of the long table. Dinners were awkward and tense. Neither of you opted to speak to one another. Stubbornness runs in the family.

When it reached day twenty-six of isolation, you were growing more frantic over the prospect of never feeling freedom. All you had were your books and your diary. Celeste and Marcus were both instructed to not interact with you. If they were to go against the king's wishes, there would be severe consequences. You knew it was all talk considering the maidservant and the knight were the only two people your father cared about deeply. You thought he cared about you too, but you were wrong.

Tonight wasn't any different than the others. Sitting on the balcony that overlooks the garden, you had a quill in one hand with your diary resting on the smooth stone parapet of the balcony. It was Celeste that had taught you how to write in elegant cursive. She was your teacher for, essentially, everything.

Looking up at the stars and all the beautiful constellations, you couldn't help but to think of what life would be like if you weren't a princess; what life would be like if your mother was still alive, if William was still alive. You had a feeling that your brother would've secretly trained you after hours whilst your father slept. The thought pulled a smile on your lips, and you made sure to write it in your diary.

"Princess," you heard a hushed voice from down below. Your hand froze and you strained your ears, assuming you were only hearing things from being isolated for so long. But then you heard it again. "Psst! Princess! Down here!" You leaned over the edge of the parapet and glanced down, your eyes widening when you see Marcus standing atop one of the stone benches.

"Marcus!" You hissed quietly before you scanned the perimeter. There was a full moon tonight, which meant that everyone in the castle was dead asleep, aside from you and Marcus, obviously. "What on earth are you doing down there?"

He holds a finger to his lips. Suddenly, he throws a bundle of rope up to you and it plops down beside your feet. Completely and utterly confused, you leaned over the edge again.

"Tie the end around one of the pillars! I'm going to hoist myself up to you!"

The idea was absurd. The more you stood up there staring down at him, the more antsy he became.

"Princess, please!"

Without saying another word, you did as he asked. Tying one end of the rope around one of the pillars into a double looped knot, you tossed down the rest of the rope. You watched curiously as Marcus grabbed the rope with both hands and began hoisting himself up. He lets out a hoarse grunt with each pull up, no doubt struggling under his body weight. His arms were exposed from the tunic he wore, his biceps bulging from exertion. When he finally reached the top, he panted heavily and swung his long legs over the edge and hopped down onto the balcony. He was now face to face with you.

"Why couldn't you unlock my door instead?" You asked him with arms crossed and a tilted head that made his heart flutter.

Marcus shrugged. "I didn't want to possibly disturb your father's slumber by the obnoxious creaking of your door."

Squinting at him for not providing any further explanation, you offered him the other empty chair on the other side of the balcony. As he takes a seat, you take the time to really observe him in the moonlight coupled with the candles lit around your room. The tunic he wore showcased his broadness. Without his armor or casual chest plate and arm wear, as well as his sword always attached to his hip, seeing him in all his normalcy was definitely a change. A good change, if that. He looked comfortable and relaxed. No longer was he standing as straight as a rod. When you caught him curiously peering at the open pages of your diary, you were quick to push his head away with your pointer finger before shutting the book.

"That is for my eyes and my eyes only, Knight Acacius," you tell him in a teasing tone, a gentle smile on your lips that had him smiling as well.

"I'm no longer Marcus to you, huh?"

"Well, that depends on if you're going to be on my good side tonight. I really don't want to add you to the list."

He scratches at his scruffy jaw and chuckles quietly at your sassy answer. You briefly retreat inside your room to safely tuck your diary under your pillow. When you go back outside onto the balcony, Marcus sees the small wooden bowl of green and purple grapes in your hands that Celeste had left outside your door. He nods at you in thanks when you motion the bowl over to him. He plucks a few grapes from the stem and watches as you lean back in your seat with the bowl on your lap. The nightgown covering your body made him feel like you looked like a goddess under the moonlight. The delicate skin of your shoulders, collarbones, and arms were exposed. He noticed a distinct scar just above your left breast.

"How did you get that scar?"

You looked shocked at his question. Of course, you forgot just how exposed you were to the older knight. But you didn't feel uncomfortable under his inquisitive gaze. Looking down at the scar as best as you could, you touched the tip of your fingers onto the mark.

"Uh, it's a funny story," you let out a small laugh and looked at Marcus with crinkled eyes that caused a dimple to form on your cheek. "I was only a small child when it happened. I believe I was nine years old, and William was nineteen. He was outside in the pit practicing. I was curious as to what he was doing, you know? I stepped too close just as swung his sword back and the tip of the blade sliced right through my dress." Bursting into a fit of giggles, you remembered the horrified expression on your brother's face and the number of apologies spewing from his lips. "If I was just a few inches shorter, he would've gotten my throat."

Marcus shuts his eyes and shakes his head at the thought. When he opens them, he notices the melancholy, faraway look in your eyes at the mention of William. He quietly cleared his throat, causing your eyes to shoot up at his own. There was a moment of silence. He licked his lips and tried to form the correct words without ruining the mood.

"He would've been a good king," he tells you softly. He rolls a grape between his fingers. "He would tell me all of the ideas he had for the kingdom." Marcus laughed at a particular incident where he had stumped the young man. "He also would've been a good jester."

That was what made you cackle. You slapped your mouth with both hands and Marcus covered his own with his fist to keep from laughing. The two of you shook your heads and eased the laughter until a comfortable lull washed over. As he looked down at the grape in his hands, he mulled over the 'what if' questions that continuously ran through his head. Suddenly, he felt a thump on his forehead. A purple grape landed on his lap. As he went to lift his head to look at you, another grape hit him on the head and bounced off, landing a few feet away on the ground. You giggled behind your palm at his perplexed face.

"You are a child," he tells you in a joking manner.

"If I'm old enough to be married off to a prince, then I'm old enough to play games with my favorite knight," you tell him with that teasing smile again, the same one that always gets his heart beating fast.

"I'm your favorite knight, huh?" He throws a grape in your direction, the small fruit bouncing off your chest and landing between his feet.

"Not anymore if you keep antagonizing me," you joke as you go to throw another grape at him, but Marcus was quick enough to react and moved his head back to catch it in his mouth.

You throw him a thumbs up and he winks. The action was so charming. It was weird that it came from him. Again, not a bad weird. It was a good type of weird. It made you feel warm and fuzzy, and tingly. Although Marcus was much older and much more experienced, you can't ignore the undeniable attraction you have towards the man. A delusional part of you hoped that the feeling was mutual.

As the silence grew longer, Marcus took it upon himself to break it. "Well, since you gave me a confession that I am indeed your favorite knight, then I guess you deserve my confession that you are my favorite princess." His tone held something you couldn't add up. It was a mix of adoration and something possibly stronger. It had your cheeks and neck warming. The butterflies in your stomach went wild at his boyish grin.

"I'm your favorite princess?" You asked him quietly, too shy to look at him as you fiddled with the bowl of grapes. You couldn't embarrass yourself, not now, not like this. Maybe it was the loneliness and the possibility of never falling in love with the right man. But all fingers keep pointing to Knight Marcus Acacius.

"You are my favorite princess," he repeated more slowly and gently, bending his head to try and catch your eye. "And it's only ever going to be you, my princess."

It had been a full two months since the falling out between you and your father. Your dinners have now been delivered to your door rather than your father having Celeste escort you down to the dining hall. There was no complaint though. If anything, you preferred it that way. You've grown comfortable with being alone. Well, not entirely alone. After midnight, you and Marcus had fallen into a routine of him sneaking up onto the balcony and the two of you sharing stories of your past lives. Sometimes, he would bring a gift or two to surprise you.

A few days ago, you had mentioned that you wished you had red ink to go with your quills. That same night, Marcus had instructed you to hold out your hand and to shut your eyes. You were skeptical at first, assuming that he was going to play a joke on you.

"Do you trust me, my princess?" He had asked you softly, tipping your head up with his forefinger curled under your chin. You meet his eyes and almost feel hypnotized by the emotions swirling in them.

You nodded. "I trust you... with my life, Marcus Acacius."

Then, he laid a small item in the palm of your hand. You looked down and read the label, looking back up at him with a wide smile that made your eyes crinkle that your eyes disappeared. He was stunned when your body collided against his in a hug that felt like home. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around your body, one hand cupping the back of your neck to keep you pressed against him.

"Oh, Marcus," you had sighed softly and sniffled the tears away from the overwhelming feeling of finally being seen.

Tonight was a different adventure. Rather than Marcus climbing up, he instructed you to climb down. The idea was absurd, and you verbally expressed that when you stared down at his awaiting arms. It was at least a fifteen-foot drop without the rope. You couldn't risk breaking a bone because how else would you explain it to your father?

"Do you trust me, dove?" He hushed, staring up at you with those deep brown eyes of his that make it hard to say no.

You sighed to yourself and looked over your shoulder at the locked door of your bedroom. When you looked back down at him from over the balcony, you couldn't help but to smile at his eagerness.

"I trust you with my life, Marcus Acacius," you tell him earnestly. He smiles at that, his dimple deepening the wider his smile gets.

As you swing yourself over the edge, you make sure to fix your sleeping gown so as to not give him a sneak peek. Marcus never tried any advances on you. Although you wished he would at least touch your thigh or something, he always kept his hands to himself and was a respectful gentleman. The both of you would share intimate hugs and held hands on occasion, but that was it. There was an unspoken tension between the two of you. Whether the fear was your reputation as a princess, the arranged marriage, or the age gap between you and the knight. You were unsure of how to go about this. Whatever it was, you didn't want to ruin it. As of this moment, this routine, it was just two people spending time together and forming an intimate bond.

"There we go, darling girl," he tells you softly, his arms stretched up high to catch you if you fall. "Now, hold onto the rope with both hands and slowly lower yourself down." When you let out a small whimper, Marcus hushes you softly by saying, "I got you, darling. I got you."

Lowering yourself down to the ground was surprisingly easy work. It was harder for Marcus, most likely because he was twice your weight. Either way, you didn't embarrass yourself by falling on your backside and making a complete fool out of yourself in front of the man you have questionable feelings for. The two of you greet each other quietly and share a long hug. He had been unable to visit you for a few days, so this was your reunion back in each other's arms.

"I have a surprise for you, princess," he speaks quietly in your ear, the both of you swaying gently in each other's arms. "Are you up for adventure with your favorite knight?"

Pulling away from his chest, you rest your hands on his broad shoulders and look up at him. He spots the skepticism in your eyes, and he rolls his own jokingly.

"It's nothing extreme, I promise," he makes an X across his heart. "If it's something you are not interested in, then you say the word and I shall bring you back to your chambers safe and sound."

Marcus sounds sincere, and almost nervous. Curiosity got the best of you as you were eager to see what he had planned. When you give him a nod, he gives you one of his boyish grins and takes a hold of your hand and holds onto the lantern he had set aside to pull you into his arms. You follow him silently through the gardens, casting your balcony one last look before it disappears from view. It was another few minutes of walking until you realized what direction you two were heading in.

"Are we... going out to the lake?" You finally asked him, looking at the back of his head before peering around his shoulder. When the lake comes into view, you see a blanket laid out on the ground with another lantern resting atop it.

As you got closer, Marcus ushers you in front of him so you can get a better look of the layout. On the blanket was a plate of dried meats, cheeses, pieces of bread, and fruit; two chalices and a bottle of wine; and a single flower. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words were able to come out. Marcus had deemed you speechless, for the first time ever. It was usually always the other way around.

"Now," he gently pushed you closer with a hand on your hip. "I know how imprisoned you've felt in your chambers. And I know things have been hard for you for the past few months. I figured, maybe, you'd want a relaxing time away from your chambers. Now, this is, uh, not something of courtship, I promise you that." The sentence had you laughing quietly. "Think of this as, um, a friend helping out another... friend?" He sounded unsure, mentally kicking at himself for using those choice of words.

"Well... friend," you purposely drew out the word in a teasing manner to make him squirm. "This was definitely a surprise, and it's a beautiful surprise. Thank you, Marcus." He can hear your voice waver with emotion. "I cannot believe you went out of your way to do this for me."

"It's the least I can do for a princess like you," he spoke in a hushed tone, watching you closely as you bend down to lift the stem of the flower and sniff the petals.

Sliding off your slippers, you wiggled your feet in the plush grass, giggling to yourself at the texture between your toes. It had been so long since you felt grass under your bare feet. It was slightly moist from the fog that very slowly made its way across the hills and just barely kissed the lake. Standing at the edge of the lake, there was a moment of spontaneity that washed over you. Maybe it was a bold move or an act of rebellion. The more you stared out into the lake, the more desperate you were to feel the water on your naked skin. As you slid the straps of your nightgown down your shoulders, Marcus was quick to stop you from undressing any further.

"What... uh... What are you, um, doing?"

Why couldn't he form a coherent question? He sees the princess' bare shoulders and he suddenly feels like a virgin boy again. He forces himself to turn away with his hands on his hips when he hears the faint splash of you swimming further into the lake. When he hears your contented sighs, he finds himself turning without realizing. His arms dropped to his sides and his shoulders sagged from the forceful breath he exhaled due to the sight before him. You stood in the lake with the water just below your collarbones. Your hair was wet and slicked back when you dipped underneath to get used to the cold. With the droplets on your skin and the two lanterns creating more than enough light, Marcus would be convinced if you told him you were actually a nymph. Whatever it is that you would tell him, he would hang on to every word as though it would be the last time he would hear them.

"Come on, Knight Acacius!" You swim deeper into the lake, dipping back underneath and popping back up, blinking away the water and swiping a hand down your face to look at him with a sweet smile. "Don't leave me swimming all alone."

He knows it's a bad idea. This was definitely crossing an unspoken boundary of your whatever-your-relationship-was. Once that line was crossed, there was no going back. Marcus knew that. You knew that. Maybe you wanted for him to get in the water as an invitation. He didn't know. The two of you danced around the obvious for three months. Touches got longer and lingered the more time spent together. Goodbyes got harder after spending hours whispering secrets to one another in your bed – nothing ever got past innocent cuddling. But looking at you now, swimming about in your carefree spirit that he feels he lost so long ago, he can no longer ignore his attraction to you. Glancing off to the side in the direction you two came from, Marcus looked at you again and he can see the reassuring smile on your face, silently telling him that it's okay, it's just the two of you.

You watch as he reaches a hand behind his neck to pull off his tunic. Seeing his bare chest for the first time made you look away with a gasp. The lanterns made his skin look so golden and warm to the touch. There was more movement in your peripheral. Your brain screamed at you to not look, but your heart screamed even louder at you to take a little peek. So, you did. Lips parted on their own accord as Marcus slid off his bloomers. From the position with the way he bent over, you weren't able to see his lower half. But as he pulled his bloomers free from his legs and stood back up, you turned just in time to avoid seeing his exposed, private area. You wanted to give him the same respect he had given you when you had undressed in front of him. Whether he took a peek or not, you knew he was respectful about it.

With your back facing the field, you stared further down at the lake. With the moonlight bouncing off the gentle ripples of the water, it really did look like it was sparkling. It had you smiling in awe as your hands gently carded through the water. There was a distant splash from behind you, and then silence. You almost held your breath when you felt Marcus' presence getting closer and closer. It was nerve-wracking, and also almost exciting and taboo. Then, you felt it.

Two large hands gently grip your hips from behind. Your stomach muscles tightened at the feeling before your entire body relaxed. Slowly turning in his grip, a smile pulled at your lips. You and Marcus stood at least a foot from one another. The two of you stood with the water just below your collarbones. His hair was damp and slicked back, the ends looking a lot longer from the added wetness to them, but they still curled no matter how many times he ran a hand through them. Your hands started at his wrists, Then, they slowly slid up his forearms where you felt his arm hair. The coil in the pit of your stomach tightens as you've come to a realization that this was all happening, and it wasn't a dream. As your hands slide further up his strong, thick biceps and rest onto his broad shoulders, you couldn't mistake the sigh of content spilling from your lips for something else. You hoped it was quiet enough for Marcus to not hear, but the little grin on his face says otherwise.

Your hands slide up his neck, briefly brushing over his vein, and your thumbs can feel the hammering of his pulse. When they finally settled on his scruffy jaw, you were at a loss for words. Marcus can see your eyes on his lips. Experimentally, he licked at his bottom lip with barely a poke of his tongue before pulling it back between his teeth. Almost in a trance-like state, you do the same with your own bottom lip. Upon hearing his laugh, you broke out of the hypnotization he had you under and released your bottom lip from between your teeth.

"You are a foul man," you giggle at him, lightly pushing him away and splashing water in his direction. "In all seriousness, Marcus, it's nice seeing you like this."

"Wet, naked, and vulnerable?"

"No!" You laughed a little hard at his annoying answer, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him as his smile grew wider. The two of you start swimming in slow, calm circles. "I mean, it's nice seeing you not so serious all the time. I like seeing you happy and... relaxed, to say the least."

"Are you sure it's not because I'm wet, naked, and vulnerable?" He teasingly asks, reaching underwater to poke at your stomach. You rolled your eyes at him again and leaned back to use your foot to nudge him away. "I know what you mean, dove. There are rare moments where I can unwind, but you've helped me in the process of doing so."

His answer piqued your interest. You stopped swimming in slow circles and looked over at him as he slowly bobbed up and down in the water. There's a ghost of a smile on Marcus' lips when you look at him with those wide, curious eyes. He clears his throat and looks away, hoping that pointing his attention on something else would help the words come out smoothly.

"The time I've spent with you, my princess, has been the most serene I have ever felt in my entire life of being your knight," he tells you in a low voice, afraid to speak any louder to where the moment is ruined by his gruffness. "With you, I am able to not worry about... anything. You make it quite easy to forget about my worries. I could be having the most troublesome day, but the second I look into those eyes of yours, it all disappears and I'm able to be Marcus with you and not Knight Acacius."

You carefully swim closer to where he stands. The emotion is heavy on his face, from the way his eyebrows are furrowed, and his eyes are darting back and forth as he tries to use the best words that he could think of in order to convey what he's feeling as to not confess too much too soon. Marcus shakes his head and laughs at himself.

"I'm making a fool out of myself, aren't I?"

Hushing him softly, you lean in close and tenderly wrap your arms around his shoulders to further pull him into your chest. Marcus' hooked nose lovingly caresses your jaw and then lowers down to your neck where he inhales deeply, your sweet scent filling his nostrils, further easing the anxiety that was threatening to burst. You card a hand at the back of his head, fingers gently tugging at his damp curls. He was polite enough to keep his hips a distance away from your own as his arms find a home around your waist.

"You are no more a fool than I, Marcus Acacius," you tell him so quietly, your voice cracking when you say his name. He lifts his head from its place in the crook of your neck. Eyes meet eyes, then forehead meets forehead. Noses brush against one another and his hands find your cheeks. You tenderly hold onto his wrists and shut your eyes, wishing there was a way to capture this moment.

Then, Marcus tells you in a tone that borders between heartache and awe, "I guess we are both foolish beings, my princess." And just like that, a lonesome tear rolls down your cheek, one that he lightly kisses away. His lips on your cheek left a warmth that you wished you could feel all over. But at this moment, right here with him, you will take all that he could give you.

"Princess." There was a knock on your door, followed by the latch unlocking. The door opens quietly, the unmistakable creak causing you to wince and bury your face deeper into your pillow with a groan. "The king requests your presence in his chambers." The blanket was yanked off your warm body, the cold, crisp air of your room causing you to shiver and groan even louder in your pillow. "Come on, princess. You know your father is an impatient man."

Celeste busies herself by picking out your morning gown and laying it on your bed by your curled legs. She does a once over at your body and then does a double take. When you hear nothing but silence, you remove the pillow from your face and look over your shoulder. She stands over you with a peculiar look on her face. Her wrinkled fingers gently pinch at the hem of the dark maroon tunic covering your body. It was a men's tunic, one that fell just above your knees.

"Oh, dear child," she tuts quietly, looking up at your eyes and shaking her head disapprovingly. "Please, do not tell me this belongs to you-know-who."

There was a moment of panic on your face. You leapt out of bed and made a mad dash to your bedroom door to slam it shut. Celeste still stands as stiff as a tree with her hands on her hips. Never has she ever looked so disappointed at you. It makes you want the ground to swallow you whole. Timidly striding across the room, you let out a tired sigh and sit on the edge of your bed, your fingers playing with the ends of the tunic.

"Nothing serious happened, Celeste," you speak under your breath.

She rests a hand on her head in distress, her eyes wide and worrisome. "Knight Marcus?!" She hissed. "Do you not know what would happen if your father ever found out about you two?"

"Celeste, there is nothing to even find out about," you pleaded with her, tears already brimming along your waterline. "We... We're just two people that formed a companionship after hours. That is all. Nothing more, nothing less." The words burned your tongue the second they left your mouth. "You need to believe me when I say this, Celeste. Please, I beg of you. Do not tell my father of this, please."

The older maidservant looks at you with pity, her pursed lips in a frown at the sound of your helplessness and fear of what could possibly happen if word were to spread throughout the castle. With another sigh, she takes a seat next to you on the bed. Her left hand grabs a hold of your right one, and you immediately rest your head upon her shoulder. She rests her chin on the crown of your head, sighing once more. The two of you sit in silence, listening to the faint laughter and commotion happening within the garden through the ajar windows in your room.

"Do you love him?"

The question caught your attention. Celeste's tone sounded melancholy, but you couldn't place a finger on it. You didn’t want her to take your silence as a definite answer. Truth be told, you don’t understand what it is that you feel. Were they platonic feelings? Romantic? Sexual? You do know that Marcus is three times your senior. He has a reputation to uphold as your father’s main knight. He has led the other knights into battle between the other kingdoms and always came back unscathed. Marcus Acacius was a frightening man to some and a dangerous man to others. But you never viewed him as either. He’s a passionate man with many ideals that he would hope to spread. Marcus has a sensitivity to him not a lot of men have, which is why he kept himself guarded as best as he could, only showing you the vulnerable parts of him knowing there will be no judgment. 

“This is a dangerous game you are playing, dear child,” Celeste tells you in a somber tone. “You do not know what you are asking for, nor do you understand what it’s like to love someone like that.” 

Pulling your head up from her shoulder, you rip your hand away from her gentle grip. With a fire in your eyes, you stand up before her, glaring down at the old maidservant with betrayal.

“Of all the people, Celeste, I thought you would be the one to understand me the most,” your voice breaks. "I may not be wise beyond my years, but I know what it is like to love someone. Now, I don't know what it is that I'm feeling. Maybe it's love. Maybe it's not. All I know is that I treat Marcus exactly like how he wants to be perceived. If that's wrong of me as his friend and as the king's daughter, then... damn you all!"

Shockingly enough, Celeste laughs. Not a small, polite chuckle she would give to a guest or to your father. But a full-bellied laugh that had her doubling over. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Don't... Don't laugh at me! How dare you make a mockery of me!"

She only laughs harder, frantically waving her hands as she tries to catch her breath. Her face is flushed as she dabs her fingers under her eyes to wipe away the tears. Still standing in front of her, confused and offended, you cross your arms and look away from her with a shake of your head. Much to your surprise, you let out a small oof when she hugs you tightly. You stood frozen in her embrace. Arms still crossed between your bodies; you eyed the side of her head. But then, you heard it. Celeste was crying on your shoulder, tenderly stroking the back of your head. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around her waist, pressing yourself closer into her front. The woman held onto you tighter, one hand still stroking the back of your hair as her other arm crossed over your shoulder blades.

"Gods, you remind me so much of your mother," she lets out a watery laugh. "She was a spitfire, that one."

Stepping away from Celeste when her arms dropped down, she was quick to cup your cheeks in her cold hands. Her thumbs stroked the apples of your cheeks, smiling weakly when you won't meet her eye.

"Before your mother passed, she made me promise that I would take care of you and your brother," she tells you quietly, gently tipping your head up to look into her cloudy eyes. "I may not be your mother, but I will always love you like my own. Do you understand, princess?" You give her a jerky nod. "It is my duty as your caregiver to ensure that your happiness will never wander. And it is my duty as your mother's oldest friend to keep my promise." You open your mouth to question her, but she hushes you softly. "Whatever it is that you may feel for him, do not let it go, understood?" She gives you a pointed look that tells you to not disagree with her. As she sees the tiniest smile forming on your lips, she gives you a wink and informs you to get dressed in your gown.

There was a gentle knocking at the door.

"Celeste? Princess?"

The door creaks open and reveals just who you were talking about. Knight Marcus trudges inside, his lids heavy from exertion but they brighten the second they're laid on you. Celeste doesn't miss the way his shoulders sag and the soft smile that takes over his face. She also doesn't miss the way your own smile turns into one of affection, the confusion and anger on your face now washed away. She hums under her breath, quiet enough so only she could hear it. Marcus clears his throat and gives the older woman a polite nod. She squints.

"The king requests the princess' presence urgently," he tells you both. His eyes sweep up and down your appearance, silently wishing you two were alone so he could take you into his arms and obsess over your beauty and to feel your cheeks warming under his lips. There are a lot of things he wishes he could do with you without facing any consequences. He wishes the life you two share wasn't one of secrecy. His only hope is that you also think the same of him.

Celeste fussed with your hair and did a simple style with a small braid tied behind the rest of your hair that lays against your back. When she's about to pass Marcus, she eyes the both of you once more before leaving the room, most likely to give you two some privacy.

"Do you know what it is that my father wants to talk about?" The question comes out weak, the jitters never once settling as the dreadful questions and 'what if's' are never-ending.

Marcus shakes his head as his hand tights on the handle of his sword. "I'm not sure, princess. But I wouldn't worry much about it. He didn't seem... on edge." Giving him a nod at his answer, he could still tell that it didn't ease your nerves. It's been a while since you last faced your father. He steps forwards, just a hair away. "Dove, you have nothing to worry about, okay?"

The two of you walked in tandem to your father's chambers. As you turn down the long, stoned hallway, Marcus' hand barely brushes along the shape of your hip when you step in front of him. Glancing at him over your shoulder with a barely-there smile, his silent reassurance was something you didn't know you needed, and now you crave it more than ever. As you knocked on the door and entered upon hearing your father's voice, Marcus' hand laid on the handle of the door to pull it shut to leave you and your father alone.

"Uh, Marcus," the king raises a hand to stop the knight from shutting the door. "It is better for you to be here as well to hear what I have to say."

The moment was filled with panic for both you and the knight. With your father's back turned, you glanced over your shoulder at Marcus, your eyes wide and lips parted as your breathing grew frantic. He raised a hand just above his waist, subtly shaking his head, silently pleading with you not to panic. Had your father discovered what you and Marcus had been doing after hours? With Marcus defying your father's orders, you dreaded the punishment that might await you both. Despite never going beyond hugging and handholding, you and the knight continued to dance around the topic of your relationship, fearing that reality would ruin it.

The tension in the room is palpable. Marcus stands by the door, his silence a testament to his understanding of the king's authority. Your father, with his hands clasped behind his back, gazes out the window, the sunlight catching the glint of his rings. You follow him closely, waiting for his words, and cast another glance over your shoulder, feeling the weight of the moment.

The weight of his words hung in the air, filled with sorrow and regret. "Ever since your mother passed, I've felt like I've failed you, both as your father and as king. You remind me so much of her. She truly was an extraordinary woman," he said, his voice tinged with a sad, melancholic laugh.

It was unusual to see him in such a vulnerable state. Often, it was hard to understand his thoughts or emotions. He usually maintained a facade for the villagers around the kingdom. The only mask you had seen him wear was the one he donned after your mother's death. Listening to him talk about her felt almost therapeutic. Unsure of where the conversation was headed, you remained silent and let him continue.

The atmosphere was incredibly tense as he spoke, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "I understand that you believe yourself capable of being more than just a wife, perhaps even a queen. But it is quite selfish of you to ignore what this kingdom needs in terms of allies and protection," he said, turning to face you fully. Shocked, you couldn't help but scoff, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it.

"Selfish?" you echoed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and determination. "Explain to me how pursuing my own happiness is selfish, father. How is my desire to ride with the knights and fight for our people selfish? Go on, explain!" Your breath came in rapid, shallow bursts, but you no longer cared about the repercussions of your defiance. "Were you ever going to tell me that this isn't the life mother envisioned for me?"

The shock on his face was laughable.

"I beg your pardon!" His cheeks flushed with rage. "You don't know what you are talking about, child. You have no idea what your mother wanted for you, and you should not ponder it while you are in my care."

The laughter that bubbled out of your chest was uncontrollable. Marcus, standing by the door, watched the tense scene unfold. He knew better than to intervene or place himself between you and the king. However, as the king's expression grew increasingly stony, Marcus began to worry for your well-being, sensing that you were on the verge of crossing a line from which there would be no return.

Gazing at your father, any sympathy for his struggles vanished, as he remained tethered to his past. Marcus and Celeste offered no assistance, and now, neither could you. The king received no pity. If William were still here, he would undoubtedly strive to alter your father's views on your life choices. Sadly, in this moment, it felt like you were alone against the world. As stubborn as your father was, you now wished you weren't cut from the same cloth.

Now seething and unable to hide it, you stood closer until you were damn near toe-to-toe with your father. "In your care?" The question was spat in his face. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but hasn't Celeste been my caregiver since I was born? Hm? Wasn't it my mother that granted her full guardianship because she knew of the ideals you would bestow upon me, and she didn't agree?" Hearing about Celeste had your father shutting up instantly, and he looks away in shame. "Don't you dare try to act like a caring father, after all these years! When it comes to me being married off to a prince with no values, that is when you decided to step up." Lowering your head to try and catch his eye, he only turns away to point his back at you.

The weight of his words hung in the air as he gazed out the window, his voice barely above a whisper. "You do not know what this marriage could do for us, for the kingdom, and for our people," he said. "You are a princess, and I expected you to act as such."

Marcus lowers his head, his heart aching at the sound of your soft sniffles. He wishes he could cross the room, pull you into his arms, and take you far away from all this pain. He would do anything for you, if only you would ask.

"I know I am not like the other princess', father," you cried softly and hesitantly stepped over to the same window he looked out of, silently begging for him to look at you. But his jaw clenches and ticks, a telltale sign of agitation. You want to lay a hand on his forearm, but you'd rather not poke the bear. "I know I don't have the same ideals a woman such as myself may have, but what about me?"

When you don't get a response, you continue.

"What about what I want for the kingdom? Have you ever, for one second, thought about my own happiness instead of your own?"

The silence stretched on, heavy and unbroken. Neither of you uttered a word, except for your quiet sniffles as you struggled to hold back your tears. Marcus despised the look of desperation on your face. The anguish was unmistakable. It only worsened when you reached out to your father, and he stepped away as if a peasant had stepped on his shoes. When he looked at you, you could hardly recognize the man you once knew as your loving father. Now, he was in his kingly mindset and looked at you as though you were a problem.

The king continues to look down at you as if you were nothing more. "You do not want to marry a prince? That is perfectly fine with me," his voice was void of any emotion, making it impossible to decipher what lay hidden beneath. "There will be a carriage waiting for you tomorrow morning at sunrise. I am sending you to a convent where you will live the rest of your life as a nun. If you wish to rebel against me and ignore your duties as a princess, so be it. I will not be made a fool from your disobedience and disrespect."

"What?" Both you and Marcus exclaim, the shock of the situation melting into terror. Your heart races, and you can feel the panic rising within you. Marcus notices your distress from a distance and quickly comes to your side, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. His presence is a small comfort, a reminder that you're not alone in this moment of fear.

The knight looks at the king. "Your majesty-"

"Enough, Marcus." The king gives him a pointed stare, raising his bushy, white eyebrows, silently telling the knight to not cross the line and make matters worse. "You will make sure she is gone by the time I have woken."

The tension in the air was discernible. You struggled to find the right words, but they seemed to vanish before you could speak of them. Beside you, Marcus was seething with anger, his frustration almost tangible. Among all the scenarios he had considered, the princess being sent away to a convent was the last thing you expected.

"You are making a grave mistake," Marcus tells him, his voice no longer quiet, but more authoritarian. "Sending her away is going to make matters worse for the kingdom. Please, think about what you are doing. You are going against Maryann's wishes. Think of the heartbreak you are going to bestow on Celeste."

The mention of Maryann, your mother, brought a flood of emotions you could no longer contain. You turned and buried your face in Marcus' chest, clutching the short sleeves of his tunic as you sobbed. It felt like you were submerged underwater, unable to hear the knight and the king's conversation. All you could perceive was Marcus' faint laugh echoing in your mind, Celeste's nurturing smile, and the warmth of Marcus' hands tracing the contours of your body. Those cherished moments are now lost, and you can no longer fulfill your mother's wishes as she had hoped before she passed.

Marcus whispers your father's name. They lock eyes, the silence only broken by your heart-wrenching sobs. Marcus feels a lump forming in his throat, his nostrils tingling and eyes stinging. He repeats your father's name, his voice trembling and barely audible.

"Please," he pleads for you. His arms tighten around your body, wishing you could crawl inside his ribcage and rest upon his beating heart that you have unknowingly called home. Each whimper you released was like a stab to his chest with a poisoned dagger.

The king's frown deepens as he witnesses you trembling like a leaf in the arms of his favored knight. He swallows thickly and turns away once more, unable to face the damage that has already been done.

"My decision is final, Knight Marcus. Now, escort the princess back to her chambers."

The tears had long since dried up, leaving you as a mere shell of your former self, numb and devoid of feeling. The future seemed bleak, both for you and the kingdom. The king's rash decision to send you away to a convent was perilous and reckless. Consumed by his own fury, he had likely set the stage for the kingdom's downfall. The thought of Celeste and Marcus being put in harm's way filled you with dread, as if claws were tearing at your heart. You couldn't bear to think about the consequences of your banishment, knowing it would shatter you all over again.

The sense of helplessness is overwhelming. Celeste's anguished cries in your father's chambers still echo in your mind, a stark reminder of the pain she's enduring. She always saw you as the daughter she never had, and now, with your banishment, her heart must be breaking. Your father's silence in the face of her fury was telling. He deserved every bit of her wrath after all these years of loyalty and care she has shown your family.

And Marcus, Oh, goodness. With a slow, unsteady hand, you grabbed at your chest as the pain in your heart intensified. Being able to grow close to each other the way you've been doing the past few months has felt like a fairytale straight from the stories Celeste would make up when you were just a child. In another world, he was your prince, and you were his princess. Meeting in secrecy wasn't ideal, but it was perfect. Getting to see him become his most vulnerable was one of the greatest accomplishments you've endured. The lingering touches and longing glances given to one another around company always made you ache. The burning heat in your lower half never once weakened around him. He had grown confident in his touches and the occasional kisses that would start at your jaw and trail down to your neck where he would feel the hammering of your pulse under his lips. Knight Marcus Acacius was a man. And now, he will be a man that you would never have.

Enough was enough. There would be no more wallowing, no more pondering over what could have been, and no more drowning in tears. You needed to act, and you needed to act fast. A brief moment of panic struck as you leapt out of bed and hurried around your room. Think, think, think. Cursing to yourself, you finally got to work. Grabbing one of your gowns, you turned it into a makeshift sack by cutting and tying the ends with the small dagger Marcus had given you long ago when you were becoming a young woman.

"A princess is never really a princess without her dagger," he had told you, carefully unsheathing it and showing you the sharp blade with your initials engraved right by the handle. "This was given to me when I was your age, and now I want you to have it. Under any situation where you feel the need to use it, think about me and I will be right there with you."

Oh, Marcus. Not a minute goes by where you're not thinking about the older knight. There would be no more flirtatious banter, no more whispered secrets, no more tender touches. It was now, at this moment, that you've come to a realization your feelings for him are too intense to ignore. Maybe it's because of the desperation you feel or the terrors you're going to face after sunrise. Either way, you can't shake the unmistakable feeling away.

The reflection in the mirror is unrecognizable. The once bright eyes are now dim, and the skin is dull and dry from countless tears. This woman feels like a stranger, and the thought of living as her is unbearable. The idea of being someone you're not, confined by false worship and seclusion, is suffocating. But then, a spark of realization ignites. Not all is lost. A plan forms: escape before sunrise and head north. Whether you go alone or not is up to you, but finding solace elsewhere is better than being imprisoned by faith.

Just as you were getting a head start, a small clack sound came from the balcony. When you turned around to face the wide-open doors leading outside, you saw no one. As you were about to shut them, an object on the ground that hadn't been there before caught your eye.

It was a stone, almost the size of your palm. As you inched closer, you saw a paper wrapped around the stone, securely tied with wool string. Curiosity got the best of you, and you leaned over the edge of the parapet, but saw no one. You had assumed it was Marcus, but when he wasn't standing on the stone bench, looking up at you with that charming smile of his, your worry began to grow.

You bent down to pick up the stone, carefully retreating back into your room as you gave another glance towards the outdoor darkness surrounding your balcony. Untying the string and finally unfolding the paper, a smile slowly formed on your lips. In messy penmanship, it read: Meet me at our spot.

The rope that has been used during your secret little adventures has been kept hidden underneath your bed. After tying one end of the rope around one of the pillars, you hoist yourself down exactly as you've done the many times you snuck away with Marcus' hands held tightly in your own. There was a rush of excitement and nostalgia upon remembering those times. It felt like yesterday you two were on your balcony alone for the first time, tossing grapes at his head and essentially calling him your favorite person and vice versa.

When you reached the ground and adjusted your gown, you noticed a small lantern sitting beside the bench. It was the typical gentleman thing for Marcus to do, not wanting you to travel in the dark. It was very telling of his character and who he is as a man and as a companion. With the lantern held at arm's length from your chest, you never realized just how terrifying it is traveling alone in the dark. If you were going to leave before sunrise, you would have to get over that fear and think like a Dame, not a princess. An owl hooted in the distance, causing your head to sharply turn towards the noise.

Upon reaching the lake, you gently swung the lantern around to cast a glow around the area. There was no blanket on the ground. There was no other lantern in sight. There was no Marcus. In a hushed voice, you called out to him. Crickets chirped in the bushes as another howl hooted close by. In another hushed voice, more frantic than the last, you called out to your knight. When you reach the looming tree, an arm reaches around and yanks your body back until it collides against a sturdy chest.

With a shriek, you drop the lantern and struggle against the arm around your waist and the hand covering your mouth. You kick at the man's shin and jab your elbow into his stomach, eliciting a grunt from him.

"It's me! Princess, it's me!" The man hisses.

"Marcus?!" You whisper-shouted, allowing him to press you against the tree and observing the wince on his face as he sits up the lantern - thankfully the fire hasn't dimmed from your frantic motions. "You are a foolish, foolish man!" Although you did hurt him, accidentally, that still didn't lessen the smile on the knight's face. Rolling your eyes, you swatted at his shoulder and leaned more comfortably against the tree.

With the low lighting of the lantern on the ground and the full moon glowing behind his head, Marcus looked like a dream come true - your dream come true. His thick curls almost form a halo atop his head, making him look more angelic and heavenly than the rugged fighter he claims to be. You weren't a religious woman, by all means. But if heaven looked like this, you wouldn't mind getting down on your knees and praying to the gods above, begging to be put in a heaven where Marcus will look like this for eternity. It almost brings a tear to your eye.

He looks down at you with an unreadable expression. Both of your smiles disappear and transform into something softer and more intimate. Your eyes take in his features carefully, heartbroken at the fact that tonight will be the last night you will be with him again. No man's brown eyes could compare to your Marcus'. No man's hooked nose could compare to your Marcus'. No man's smooth, timbered voice could compare to your Marcus'. At the realization that no man will ever be the same as your knight's, and that he has ruined everyone else for you, you let out a shuddering breath as the tears fall.

"Oh, Marcus," you wept quietly, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, allowing him to lower his upper body down to your height to make it more comfortable. His eyes shut as his own emotions take over. His own arms find their home around your waist. He clings onto you desperately, scared that if he were to let go, you'd suddenly fade away like mist right through his fingers. "This... This is all too much."

He hushes you softly, caressing a hand through your long hair, burning the feeling in the back of his mind of how soft and thick your hair was. His nose curves around the shape of your neck, smelling your sweet scent one last time and feeling your pulse against the tip. When you whimper from him pulling away, he eases your sorrows by using his curled forefinger to tip your head up in order to wipe away your tears of heartache. Neither of you speak, only gazing into each other's eyes lovingly.

"You are the most... beautiful woman I've ever known," he tells you quietly, silently begging for his voice to remain steady. "Your heart, mind, and soul are mesmerizing and addicting." Your lips parted at his words, your arms sliding down his shoulders to gently hold onto either side of your neck. He continues, "When I spend my time with you, it feels as though I'm floating through the clouds, and nothing can pull me back down to earth."

The intensity of the moment made you feel dizzy and lightheaded. Marcus' hands gently cradled your cheeks, and his warmth and masculine scent made your mouth water. You could see his lips moving, but the words were lost to you. Gazing back into his eyes, you pulled him closer. Marcus paused, his eyes flicking down to your parted lips before meeting your sorrowful gaze again.

There was palpable tension in the air as you whispered his name, your heart heavy with unspoken words. "Marcus… I…" you breathed out softly, your voice trembling. "I never told you… how… how much I…" The words caught in your throat, refusing to come out. You shook your head, the confession lingering on the tip of your tongue, frozen and waiting.

He takes that final step, your chests now pressed together, hearts pounding in unison. When Marcus lifts his hand to gently brush away some stray hairs from your face, you notice a slight tremble. You can't help but wonder if he's as nervous as you are, if his mind is racing with the same thoughts.

"Oh, my sweet darling," his voice trembling with emotion. His jaw tightens and relaxes, betraying the storm of feelings within him. The intensity of his gaze leaves no room for doubt—he understands your thoughts, your emotions, and the unspoken words hanging between you. He knows exactly what to do, even without uttering the forbidden words.

A surge of electricity shot through your entire body when Marcus' lips touched yours for the first time. You breathed in deeply through your nose and squeezed your eyes shut, your hands clinging desperately to his shoulders as he kept a steady grip on your face. The scruff of his beard scraped your upper lip and chin deliciously. This was what you had been waiting for, what you had been dreaming about for months, and now you finally had it, even if only for a short while until sunrise.

The two of you kissed like famished beasts. There was no holding back when it came to the knight. He kissed you as if your tongue was wine and he wanted to drink up the last few gulps. He kissed you as if he was drunk off of your taste and needed more, more, more. He couldn't stop. He didn't want to, now that he tasted you for the first time. His addiction to you worsened when your lips parted more to take his tongue into your awaiting mouth. The groan he releases had your entire body buzzing with heat.

With one hand gripping his curls at the nape of his neck and your other hand braced between his broad shoulder blades, you pulled away to take in big gulps of air as you forgot to remember to breathe. Marcus chased your lips immediately, his hands tightening on your face as he lips landed on yours again, and again, and again, until they were raw and swollen with passion. The whimper you elicit against him, the vibrations tingling on his mouth, drove him crazy.

This time, it was Marcus who pulled away.

He licks at his bottom lip, not wanting to waste any of your taste lingering on his eager tongue. Your breathing is heavy and desperate. Your lips tingle and buzz. The heat between you two intensified, no longer able to ignore as you two officially crossed that line that you cannot return from. He kisses you again, seemingly unable to go seconds without the feel of your lips on his and tongues intertwined.

The first kiss was everything you imagined it to be. You had expected it to be frantic, desperate, and consuming, and it was. It wasn't tender or gentle. He didn't kiss you like you were going to break apart. He kissed you like you were the oxygen he needed in order to breathe. Marcus was a trained fighter and killer. There has been blood drenched on his hands as others on the opposing side have died on the end of his sword.

After a few more minutes of nearly swallowing each other's tongue--maybe even an hour--Marcus pulled away for a moment to allow you a minute to regain composure and recollect yourself. The fogginess in your eyes fades away and you feel less like you're underwater. You can hear the faintness of crickets chirping again. There was a moment of embarrassment of losing yourself in the kiss, but you didn't care because Marcus also lost himself. He brushes away a small sheen of saliva at the corner of your lips with a sheepish, almost shy smile.

The moment slowly transformed when you held onto his forearm to keep his hand against your cheek. With eyes closed and lashes resting prettily on your cheeks, you kiss his palm so gently that he could barely feel it--just a tickle. Neither of you spoke. You didn't know what to say, and he didn't either, but that's okay. Everything that you wanted to say was expressed through your touches.

"Marcus," you whispered his name as your heart was about to leap out of your throat and land in the palm of his hand. He looks down at you with his beautiful, half-lidded, kiss-drunk eyes. You could no longer hold in your secret. "I'm leaving before sunrise."

His brows furrowed before they straightened. "I know you're leaving, sweet girl. Don't you mean at sunrise?"

Gently shaking your head, you release your embrace and lean back against the tree, gazing out over the lake. Marcus notices the struggle you're trying so hard to conceal on your face.

"No, my love," you tell him in a tearful voice. "I mean, I'm leaving before sunrise, getting through those gates, and heading north. I'm going to take myself far, far away from here and settle by the mountains."

Marcus can't hide the shock on his face. He takes a half step back, swipes a hand down his mouth, and distractedly rubs the back of his neck. Emotions swirl rapidly across his face. He doesn't know what to think or feel. An uncomfortable knot forms in the pit of his stomach, the kind he usually gets when something bad is about to happen.

"Absolutely not," the words come out of his mouth without holding back. He realizes his mistake when you jerk your head back and look at him with surprise.

"I beg your pardon, Knight Marcus?" Using his rank as his name was a way to distance yourself from him, to not let your emotions bubble over the surface in a way you'll regret. He sees right through your facade.

"Don't give me that 'Knight Marcus' shit like I'm going to buy it," he sternly tells you, making sure to point a finger down at the ground rather than disrespect you by pointing it in your face. Tensions were currently high, and he doesn't want to make matters worse by accidentally offending you. "You heard what I said, and I'll say it again, slowly. Absolutely. Not."

The silence between you felt almost tangible. You had seen him address the other knights in this manner when they faltered in their training or when a guest made a disrespectful comment about the kingdom. He had a knack for putting people in their place, but you never imagined it would be you on the receiving end.

Marcus took your silence as an opportunity to express his anxious thoughts. He hesitantly cupped your cheeks in his large hands, which easily dwarfed your face. Your eyes fluttered shut at the calloused warmth. He gently tipped your head up with both thumbs placed under your jaw. "Look at me. Please, open your eyes and look at me." He breathed out a sigh of relief when you did just that.

The wavering in his voice was unmistakable as he warned, "Do you know what would happen if the king ever found out that you went off north? Hm? He would find a way to get you back, or worse--kill you." The last part is spoken with such strain, as if uttering it might make it a reality. The horrifying image of your public execution flashes in your mind: your delicate body hanging from a rope, wrists bound behind your back, or your head placed on a wooden block, awaiting the fatal blow of an axe.

You knew there was a possibility of that happening. Your father was an ignorant man, but he was a dangerously intelligent one. Ignorance, the root and stem of all evil.

Your hands slowly slide up his forearms until you're holding onto his wrists, your thumbs tracing the dark hair and veins. Despite his firm grip, you try to shake your head, but he tuts softly, mirroring your motion. As he begins to speak, urging you to stop ignoring the possibilities, you gently place your fingers over his mouth, silencing him with a tender smile and a soft stroke of his jaw.

"My love," whispering to him and doing your best to remember his facial features. "I would rather die by the hands of my father than live a life that I do not want." Marcus' eyes shut tight, and he knocks his forehead on yours, sniffling quietly to keep his tears at bay. "Oh, my dear knight. I wish for a life where I wake up beside you in the mornings and fall asleep beside you at night. I wish for a life where you can kiss me in front of guests and twirl me around in my extravagant gowns." Marcus lets out a watery chuckle and allows his tears to fall onto your cheeks. "I wish for a life where I can fight alongside you to keep our kingdom safe from the enemies that lurk outside these walls. Whatever it is that I wish for, although they may never come true, I need you to know that you will always be a part of them, for you are the greatest wish of them all."

His trembling lips meet yours once more. His breathing is unsteady, punctuated by sniffling. The warmth of his thick tears mingles with your own on your cheeks. Fates of two, entwined. The two of you pull away, snapping the thin string of saliva that stays on your kiss-bitten lips. When your eyes open, you find yourself peering into his own. The confession was stuck on your tongue. You couldn't tell how you really felt. Leaving him with such a goodbye and further breaking his heart would do you both no good, so you thought.

"I, um... I should head back to my chambers, Knight Acacius," you softly tell him, hoping he can hear the teasing lilt in your voice as you speak his title. The barely-there grin on his lips showed that he did catch on to your teasing--just like old times.

"Foolish girl," he whispers, the smile never once fading as his eyes take in the rest of your features, permanently engraving your beauty in his mind to come back to.

"Foolish man," you whisper back, using one hand to brush his curls from his forehead, slowly sliding your hand down the back of his head, down to his neck, and finally curling your fingers through the curls that rest there.

Hand in hand, Marcus leads you both back to your balcony. The rope hangs limp, still tied around the pillar. You stand there for a few seconds, just looking up at your balcony and remembering all of the private conversations and shy touches you and your knight have shared. Turning in your spot, never once letting go of his hand, you kiss his frown away. His other hand cups your cheek again, your jaw now familiar against his palm. Pulling away one last time, you wipe at the stray tear on his cheek.

"Goodbye, Marcus Acacius," you whisper brokenly.

The moment is heavy with unspoken words as he whispers a goodbye, his hand lingering in yours until the distance pulls you apart. You watch his broad form retreat, his hand lifting to his face, likely to wipe away tears. As he disappears around the castle, a sense of finality settles in. Glancing up at the balcony, you do what you've done for the past few months. Climbing up the rope for one last time and steadying yourself onto the parapet, it was bittersweet.

As you stand in the room you grew up in, thinking of all the memories shared in here, there was a small set of knocks on the door. You pause, heart racing, as the knock echoes through the room once more. Who could it be at this hour? You quickly glance around, ensuring everything is in place. The makeshift sack is secure, the rope is still tied and ready for your departure, and your mind races with possibilities. Taking a deep breath, you move towards the door, each step filled with anticipation. As you reach for the handle, you can't help but wonder if this unexpected visitor will alter the course of your journey.

With your hand on the handle, you do an experimental tug. Surprisingly enough, it was unlocked. It wasn't unlocked before you snuck out to meet with Marcus. You pull the door open wider and wider, wincing at the obnoxious creaking and hoping it doesn't wake your father. As you finally pull it open, your mouth drops, and your eyes widen at the man that stands before you.

"What..." You had no time to finish your sentence before Marcus is charging inside, his large hands grabbing your face and kissing you as ferociously as the first time. He kicks the door shut with his boot and shoves his body deeper into the room, your feet desperately trying to keep up with his long strides.

Marcus forces himself to pull away from your lips. There's a metaphorically magnetic force that keeps pulling him back. He stands before you, skin flushed and hair wild. His breathing was fast and heavy. "I just..." He tries to explain himself. "I just... I needed to see you one last time. I needed to... to say goodbye... just one last time, my princess."

The intensity of the moment is blinding. Desperation and longing fill the air as you lock eyes with him, unable to resist the magnetic pull. His gaze, filled with an unfamiliar hunger, grows more intense with each passing second. The tension is almost tangible, and you've made your decision. With a firm grip on his neck, you draw him closer for another passionate kiss.

One kiss turns into two. Two turns into five. Five turns into hands grabbing at clothes and sneaking underneath to grasp at naked flesh. What happens afterwards is a memorable blur. You only wished you could have yourself a private artist to paint yours and Marcus' naked bodies in acts of pleasure. You would've hung it up proudly in the dining hall above your designated throne.

The haziness of sleep enveloped you as you shifted, feeling the comforting weight around your waist and the solid presence of a broad body behind you. His strong chest pressed gently against your back. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you snuggled closer to Marcus, seeking the warmth radiating from his naked body. He was like a furnace, a quality you found endearing. Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed the sky had turned a deep blue—your favorite "blue hour." It wasn't sunrise yet, so you still had time to savor this peaceful moment.

Marcus shifts behind you with a hoarse groan. His arm tightens around your waist, a gentle reminder that he wants you close. As you roll over to face him, the tranquility of the moment envelops you both. The room is peaceful and quiet, with Marcus' half-lidded, puffy eyes reflecting the intensity of the night before. You can only imagine that you look just as marked by the shared experience.

"You look so beautiful," his voice low enough to almost sound like a hum. It slowly brings a smile to your kissed lips. Laying almost nose to nose, you let out a small sigh as the heartache returns after the momentary distraction. "I know, my darling."

His thumb brushes across the apple of your cheek before gently gripping your chin to place a lazy kiss on your lips. Marcus Acacius was intoxicating. After just a taste, you found yourself craving more, longing to quench your thirst for him. The breeze gently blowing through the sheer curtains had you shivering. Marcus glides a hand up and down your arm, further warming you with his natural body heat.

"Wherever you may end up, my darling, be sure to write to me every once in a while, yeah? And let me know where you stay so that I can visit you whenever I can," Marcus' words, spoken softly, carried a promise of connection despite the distance. His eagerness to stay in touch after your secret departure sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. The thought of your relationship possibly growing in the future filled you with excitement and hope.

The confession was pursed on your lips, words ready to be spoken. Marcus could see it on your face, the light in your eyes brightening along with your smile.

A boisterous horn suddenly blew from the outer walls of the castle, followed by another, and another. Marcus sat up with lightning speed, the sheets pooling around his waist. Faint shouting echoed from the halls and outside the castle. Both of you jumped out of bed, sheets wrapped around your bodies, and ran to the balcony to see what was happening. Behind you, Marcus hurriedly dressed, his hair a mess and his clothes wrinkled.

"Marcus, what is going on?" Worriedly asking him and rushing over with furrowed brows. You redress into your gown, watching with wide eyes as the knight makes a mad dash to the balcony once again, cursing under his breath as he sees smoke rising from beyond the trees by the main gate.

The urgency in his voice was unmistakable. "The castle has been infiltrated. We need to go. Now!" he barked, though you knew he didn't mean to be harsh. The blaring horns and escalating shouts only fueled your rising panic, making it harder to stay calm.

As Marcus led you through the chaos, the clamor of the knights' armor and the echo of their hurried footsteps filled the halls, creating a symphony of urgency. You clung to Marcus, feeling the strength and determination in his grip. His protective stance gave you a sense of safety amidst the turmoil, as you both navigated the perilous path ahead.

One of the novice knights spotted you both and hurried over, his close helm lifted slightly above his head to speak clearly. His skin was flushed and sweaty.

The urgency in the young knight's voice was evident. "Knight Acacius! Princess!" he called out, his breath quick and eyes wide with alarm. "The Prince of Ivanard and his army have breached the walls! We must act swiftly!"

Marcus's panicked expression morphs into something far more sinister. His jaw clenches, and a vein in his neck bulges noticeably. He gives the young knight a stern nod before dragging you up the stone spiral steps to the chambers where the other knights sleep. The shouting outside grows louder, and your head darts back and forth, trying to catch a glimpse through the stone windows. Marcus pulls your arm harder, nearly wrenching it from its socket as he slams his shoulder into the door of his chambers.

"You said you wanted to become a Dame ever since you were a child, yes?" He hurriedly asks you as he slides on his armor with urgency. He's throwing a number of clothing items over his shoulder, metal clanging against metal and glass breaking onto the ground. He shoots you an impatient look as he hurries over to his closet.

"Yes, ever since I was a child," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady despite the chaos around you. He nods, his eyes filled with determination as he continues to prepare. "Then let's make sure you get that chance," he says, his tone resolute.

He slides out a rather large chest. It creaks open, revealing a set of armor that mirrors his own, but in a size that fits you perfectly. As he hands it to you, your heart races with a mix of surprise and anticipation. This armor, crafted with care, is meant for you.

"Marcus," you shakily began to speak but the words died on your tongue, fingers sliding over the piece of metal. Attached inside the body armor was a byrnie, with interlocking iron rings. The small-looped chains drooped to cover any open areas. The intricate detailing of the metal molding had you staring in awe for a split second before you remembered the probable battle happening around you.

Looking back up at him, Marcus gives you a singular nod and reaches an arm out to you. Glancing down at what was being held in his hand, tears pricked at your eyes upon seeing it was William's sword. Your father had taken it from you prior to locking you in your room. His focus remains unwavering as he watches you slide on the armor over your gown. You must've looked like a fool, but Marcus looked at you with a proud glint in his eye, though his face doesn't show it. It was difficult to snap back from Knight Acacius to your Marcus during a time like this.

Holding the sword firmly, you feel its weight settle in your palm. You glance at Marcus with a look that speaks volumes. He recognizes that look—the same one you had before the blaring horns interrupted you both. He knows you want to express your gratitude for everything he's done for you and your family, even though you've always considered him part of the family.

There was an intensity that was hard to ignore as he steps closer, his gloved hand gently caressing your cheek before pulling you into a passionate kiss. The kiss conveys all the emotions he has been holding back. As you both pull away, breathless, Marcus places a tender kiss on your forehead and whispers, "You can tell me after we have won the battle."

With that whispered promise, you give him a determined nod and slide on your dirtied boots, which he also snagged from your father. As you both rush out, darting down the steps, turning corners, and navigating the exhaustingly long hallways, you think about Celeste for a split second. As if she could read your mind, she turns the corner and nearly crashes into you.

"Oh, my dear child!" She cried out helplessly, looking back and forth between you and Marcus, her hair disheveled and tear tracks staining her cheeks. You see her face change as she notices the armor adorning your body and William's sword in your hand with your other hand tightly clasped in Marcus'.

The silent understanding was evident in the way her lips parted and her eyes subtly widened. She cupped your cheek with a wrinkled, shaky hand, then looked at Marcus, giving him a nod before doing the same to you.

"You come back to me; do you understand?" The tremor in her voice was unmistakable. Celeste had always been a strong woman. She never once allowed anyone to see her break down. At a time like this, seeing you, the closest thing she has to a daughter, fully dressed in the armor you dreamt of wearing when you were a child at knee-height, made her feel like the proudest mother ever.

Holding onto her forearm, you give her a hasty kiss on the cheek before being hurried away by Marcus. You hadn't thought to ask Celeste about the whereabouts of your father. Considering she was all alone and running around like a chicken with its head chopped off, you assumed your father was hiding like the coward that he was.

"Once we step outside, you follow my lead. Is that understood?" Marcus's command echoes in your ears. With a firm grip on your sword, you mirror his readiness. His reassuring glance and the gentle release of your hand signal the gravity of the moment. Stepping onto the castle grounds, you exchange a final, resolute nod. Together, you advance towards the main gates, where Marcus' knights stand vigilant, their swords and shields at the ready.

The Prince of Ivanard stood opposite your kingdom's knights, exuding arrogance. His smug expression was infuriating. You gripped your sword tighter, remaining steadfast beside Marcus, who straightened his back and took his place in front of his own knights. There was a tense stare down between the two men.

"You have no business here," Marcus declared sternly, his voice resonating loudly and clearly to ensure that everyone nearby and at a distance could hear. "Do not begin what you cannot end, Prince of Ivanard."

The prince's expression contorted as his title was uttered with disdain. The urge to laugh bubbled within you, but you suppressed it, rising to stand tall, fixing a steely gaze on the man destined to be your spouse. Noticing your stance beside Marcus, the prince approached, flanked by his knights, his fingers wrapped firmly around the hilt of his sword.

"Oh, but my business is here, Knight Acacius," he sneered, uttering Marcus' title with the same disdain he had shown him, yet Marcus barely reacted. "I have journeyed far for the princess to become my wife, and I shall not depart without her. Although, it seems like I am looking at a little girl playing dress-up instead."

Stepping forward, you positioned yourself before Marcus. He made a slight move to halt you but restrained himself, remaining behind. This moment was yours, the one you had been anticipating. You faced the prince without a trace of fear.

"As the princess and heiress of this kingdom, it is my duty to announce that you are not welcome here, Prince of Ivanard," you spoke loudly and clearly, silently applauding yourself for keeping your voice steady and stern. "Like Knight Acacius has previously stated, do not start something you cannot finish."

The atmosphere was charged with tension. Neither of you spoke. You and the prince exchanged silent stares, his body practically radiating anger. Despite the thick swallow you forced down your throat, your eyes remained fixed on him. A movement caught your attention from the corner of your eye. The familiar scent told you it was Marcus. In a moment like this, his presence was everything you needed.

"Come with me now, and I won't take any drastic measures. Or continue this little charade and face the consequences," the prince says with a nonchalant shrug. "I advise you to make a wise decision, princess," he adds, elongating the title in a way that causes you to frown.

Taking a steady breath, you turn to look at Marcus and find him already watching you. He has been observing you the whole time. He sees the turmoil in your eyes and the hesitation in your gaze. In a hushed tone, he reminds you, "Remember your promise."

That was enough to light a match under you. Giving him one last determined nod, you faced the arrogant prince once more. "Prince of Ivanard," you announced loudly. "You are nothing more than a fat-kidneyed, crooked-nosed fool." Some of the knights on your side chuckled underneath their breaths, and even Marcus did too. The prince's facial expression grew red with fury. "Now, I advise you to put up a good fight rather than pretend your cock is bigger than most."

A prolonged silence ensues. The prince lets out a chuckle, devoid of any real mirth, as he nods to himself. His grip on his sword's handle tightens before he draws it from its scabbard. Lifting a hand into the air, he locks eyes with you, his gaze piercing through you rather than merely meeting your eyes. Abruptly, the unmistakable sound of metal-on-metal rings out as all the knights, both allies and adversaries, draw their swords in unison.

The prince offers an emotionless smile. "May God rest your soul," he declares. Then, with a swift motion of his hand, he signals the commencement of the battle.

Battle cries echo from both sides, including you and Marcus. As allies and enemies clash, Marcus disappears into the throng. You raise your sword overhead and bring it down forcefully across the chest of an adversary knight. He emits a guttural squelch and collapses into a bloody heap on the ground. It feels as if everything around you is moving in slow motion. The only sound you can hear is the heavy, rapid thumping of your heart resonating in your ears. Your limbs ache from the effort as you push through the throng of people.

Swords clash against each other, against armor, and against flesh and bone. The battlefield echoes with the roars of men and the cries of agony as lives are lost. Marcus is known as a formidable warrior; his reputation as Knight Marcus precedes him. There is no doubt in your mind that he will emerge victorious.

Battling through the opposing knights, you weave and dodge until at last, you spot him: the Prince of Ivanard. With a swift motion, he cleaves through the abdomen of one of your knights, then kicks the fallen warrior away to free his sword. The knight's blood stains the sharpened blade, darkening under the glint of the rising sun.

He gazes down at the mangled body, a grin spreading across his face. Sensing a presence, he looks up to find you there, breaths coming heavy and wild, the sword in your hand trembling from the strain of fatigue. As your eyes lock, an unspoken understanding passes between you; you both know what must happen next.

With a battle cry, you charge at each other, swords clashing. Emitting a grunt like a wild beast, you push him back forcefully and swing your sword to the left—he parries. A swift slash from left to right catches him by surprise, and for a moment, as the blade arcs toward his face, he's off guard. He jerks his head back just in time, but not before the blade grazes his cheek.

"You are no more a man than I am," you say to him, your voice quivering with adrenaline and sheer fury. "You are a fool, and I would be an even greater fool to marry someone like you."

With a roar of anger, the prince raises his sword and charges towards you. You swiftly dodge to the side, rising to your feet with your sword gripped firmly in both hands. A glance at William's initials engraved on the blade fills you with a wave of determination to honor his legacy and become the warrior he believed you could be.

The battle with the prince is fierce and draining. Your muscles scream for relief, and sweat stings your eyes as it drips down your forehead. Thoughts of Knight Acacius, your Marcus, flash through your mind. In the distance, you can just make out his voice, yelling commands and fighting with unparalleled vigor, knowing his strength comes partly because you are in the fray as well.

Suddenly, as your attention falters for a mere half-second, your sword is knocked from your grasp. You gasp, watching in a trance-like slow motion as it arcs through the air and lands yards away on the blood-soaked, dirt-strewn ground. Turning back to face the prince, a searing pain blazes across your abdomen, eliciting a piercing scream of agony.

With wide, unfocused eyes and an open mouth, your hands clutched the prince's shoulders. Your bloodied fingers slid down the metal, soon grasping his forearms, tense as he thrust the sword deeper into your abdomen, undoubtedly driving the end through you. Emitting another agonizing wail, you glanced down at the gruesome sight.

Your blood, dark and viscous, spills forth, tainting the prince's hands and your soiled dress. The agony is beyond comprehension, leading you to ponder if William experienced this torment before his demise. As you attempt to utter a word, the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. The prince shows no remorse; instead, his expression reveals a disturbing satisfaction in your suffering. With each turn of the handle, a grotesque sound escapes, and you find yourself beyond the point of vocalizing your anguish.

He leans in close, his breath acrid, almost making you gag—if not for the blood trickling down the corners of your mouth. "You were fated to be my wife," he hisses. "And now, you will meet the same fate as your dear brother, at the hands of my father."

With a feeble, blood-stained smile and your body gradually succumbing to unconsciousness, you teeter on the brink of collapse. As you draw near to the prince, the sword lodged in your abdomen sends waves of searing pain through you. Each cough is a wet, gurgling effort, spattering clumps of blood onto the prince's chest plate.

Gazing into his eyes, your weak smile vanished as you told him in a faint voice, “You’re a coward… and history will forget you.”

The look of contentment on his face shifted to a grim shadow. His forehead creased, and the smile he wore flattened into a grim line. Emitting a guttural growl, he thrusts you back, wrenching his blade, now smeared with your blood, from your midsection. You collapse, the sensation of pain fading into a distant echo. Numbness overtakes you, your senses dulling as your heartbeat echoes, slower and slower.

"Tell William my father sends his greetings," the prince commands, hoisting his sword aloft as blood trickles onto his armor. Through half-closed eyes, you glimpse the blade's gleam, your own heartbeat resounding in your ears. Thoughts of Celeste, William, Marcus, and your mother flicker through your mind in mere seconds. With closed eyes, you resign yourself to your destiny.

Suddenly, a sound like the crunching of bone filled the air. Breathing shallowly, you clear the fog from your vision and look up. The prince hadn't brought his sword down on you as he intended. Instead, a sight unfolded that you wished to etch into memory forever. A sword had been thrust through the prince's chest from behind, piercing his armor with such force that it passed clean through. His eyes were wide in disbelief, and his throat worked spasmodically, spewing thick gouts of blood that darkened his ginger beard to a deep crimson.

A deep, wild scream erupted from behind the prince. Suddenly, his body was hoisted into the air, the sword still impaled through him. His body rose higher and higher until the figure on the sword's other end came into view. The armor was unmistakable. Marcus' arms, now exposed without the protection of his armor, swelled and trembled from exertion and adrenaline. He unleashed another roar, a battle cry of pure fury. His expression was unrecognizable; he was no longer the Marcus you knew. This was Knight Acacius, the fearsome warrior known for his savage prowess in battle and his unwavering leadership in protecting his people. The prince's twisted, lifeless form was now suspended above Marcus' head as he continued to scream, his body almost quivering with the rush of adrenaline.

"Deliver a message to William," he snarls, his voice thick with fury, "Knight Acacius sends his regards." With a forceful motion, he casts the prince's body aside, the sword remaining impaled within.

A sudden rush of emotions swept over Marcus' face. It was evident in the way he gazed down, shaking off his persona as Knight Acacius. His lips moved frantically, yet their words were nearly lost beneath the pounding of your heart. Collapsing to his knees, his hands trembled violently as he placed a gentle hand upon your abdomen. Though he knew no aid could be rendered, the helplessness he offered supplanted the anger with profound heartache.

"No, no, no, no," he wailed, his face contorting as he failed to hold back his cries of despair. He shakily cradled your cheek, now ice-cold against the warmth of his blood-flecked palm. "Oh, my sweet princess. No, no, no."

"Mar…" you struggled to speak, the blood in your throat surfacing repeatedly despite your efforts to swallow it. Breathing became increasingly difficult; each inhale exacerbated the bleeding, soaking Marcus's hand further. "I… I'm…"

He silences you softly, stifling his tears as your breaths become shallower and your limbs grow feeble. He observes your hand dragging across the ground towards him. With a sorrowful heart, he reveals your injury, averting his gaze as he tenderly takes your hand and presses it against his cheek. Your lips quiver into a faint smile. The ongoing battle fades into obscurity; in this moment, there is only you and Marcus.

A lonesome tear trails down your temple. Marcus tenderly wipes it away, maintaining eye contact with your half-closed eyes. He recognizes your effort to stay awake for him. With one hand still cradling your limp hand to his cheek and his other cupping your own cheek, he exhales a shaky breath, the ache in his heart intensifying with each torturous second.

As he gazes down, observing your eyes roam over his features as they always did, he reflects on every shared moment from the past few months. He realized he loved you from the start. Yet, he never found the right moment to declare it. Now, Marcus is burdened with the regret of his silence, only breaking it as you lie before him, on the brink of your end.

"I…" His voice falters as he begins to speak. "I am a foolish man, my princess. I should have told you… how much… how deeply I…" Tears hinder his words, the floodgates of his emotions opening as he watches the light of life dim in your eyes.

The realization that you will no longer be together brings more tears to your eyes. You long to cry out to him, but the fear that your wails would force blood from your mouth, leaving a haunting image for him, holds you back. You do not wish for that to be the last memory Marcus has of you before your agonizing death.

"Come," you whisper hoarsely through the gurgling of your blood. You must tell him before the darkness engulfs you forever. You must tell him before he is left to roam the earth aimlessly without you.

Marcus gently lowers his head and turns until your lips graze his ear. The rattling sound of your breath causes him to close his eyes, his lips pressing a kiss to your wrist against his jaw. He listens intently, deciphering your hushed whispers, understanding at last what you're attempting to convey.

"Love…" you whispered in agony, your lips quivering against his ear as you coughed, inadvertently staining his golden skin with your blood—a skin you would no longer caress with your fingertips or savor with your tongue.

Marcus feels his heart almost cease to beat when he hears the single word that escapes your lips. Your last word, a confession of your feelings for him, irrevocably breaks his heart. He realizes he will never whisper those words against your skin as you both lie beneath the moon's glow, lost in bliss. Nor will he utter them against your lips in a kiss, as if you were the finest wine ever tasted. And he could never whisper them to another, for no one could ever evoke the emotions you stirred in him.

Marcus looks down at you, his expression shattered, knowing it's the last thing you'll see before darkness engulfs you in its icy hold. He kisses you, the blood from your lips staining his. He kisses you one final time, aware that the moment he pulls away, you'll slip into the void.

Finally, he forces himself to break away from your lips. With one last gaze into your eyes, he whispers tenderly, "Now I must remember you for longer than I have known you." Upon hearing his final confession, your vision blurs, speckled with black dots. The roughness of his scruff under your palm fades away. You no longer feel the wound or the blood seeping out, soaking the earth beneath you.

And as your eyes close for the final time, Marcus' anguished scream is the last sound you hear before slipping deeper into the embrace of death.

[tarotbydelilah444]

✨💍 what will marriage be like

pile i • knight of cups • four of swords • king of pentacles

Your person will be very wealthy and successful. They will be able to provide you with safety and security in your marriage and they will likely spoil the hell out of you during your marriage, so expect lavish gifts and expensive trips throughout your marriage. Your person will ensure that you want for nothing and that you are always provided for. Your person is also a romantic and will always try to woo you every chance they get through grandiose and romantic gestures. This person will always make their feelings known to you and tell you how much they love and adore you, so you never have to guess or wonder how they truly feel about you. You are truly this person’s muse and the apple of their eye. Your person will always treat you with the upmost respect, love, and care. I believe that you and your person will desire to retreat and live a private and peaceful lifestyle away from the world to be stuck in your own little world with each other. You and this person will be each other’s peace whenever things get chaotic and stressful, and always there to support each other. This relationship will be a past life connection, so this is the person that you are destined to be with for the rest of your life.

intimacy • six of swords • two of pentacles • four of cups

In terms of intimacy, the sex between you and your person seem like it will be routine & generic, rather than an act of passion & fun. It is a good idea that you two spice things up in the bedroom because it seems like one or both of you will eventually get tired and bored of the same routine. There may be a reserved energy to keep sexual desires from each other out of embarrassment or rejection, but if you or your person desire more passion in your sex life, it will be a great start to open up and express your desires with each other and try out new things. Your person’s sexual fantasies would be for you to strip for them whether you do a sexy dance to turn them on or slow and sexy strip tease before the big showdown. This person also has an oral fixation and will enjoy you giving them head and giving you head in return, they will enjoy your natural aroma.

messages from your person to you

“If forever does exist, please let it be you.”

“I choose you and I will continue to choose you.”

“In you, I’ve found the love of my life and my closest, truest friend.”

pile ii • ace of wands • page of cups • ten of pentacles

There is a strong attraction between you and your person that will consume the both of you on an emotional and physical level, that may have always been there since the beginning of this connection. You and your person bring out a passion and desire in one another that can only be extinguished when the two of you come together. There is a lot of chemistry and passion that this marriage will provide for the both of you. Marriage life will likely be exciting and fulfilling to say the the least, as you and your person will want to learn and experience new adventures and things together, so it will never get boring and the both of you will always find something fun to get into. You and your person will bring out the best in each other and encourage each other’s inner child. You and your person can naturally be yourself around each other without having to put up a guard or a facade because there is a level of comfortability and security that you and this person have with one another. You and your person will be completely in love and enamored with one another, like there is nothing you could say or do, that would ever change the deep feelings that they have for you and vice versa. Expect lots of flirtatious banter, laughter, physical and emotional intimacy between you and your significant other. This is a best friends to lovers trope, so you and your person may have been friends for years, but the both of your eventually decided that there is something more between the two of you that both of you should explore. Lastly, there is a strong desire to start a family right away or establish roots and build a beautiful and fulfilling life together. Your person will want to provide you with security, comfort, and fulfillment. You and your partner will be each others home and family.  They want a forever thing and to grow old together, surrounded by family and the beautiful memories they will/have created with you.

intimacy • the lovers • eight of swords • ten of cups

The sex between you and your person will be emotionally, spiritually, and physically fulfilling. You or your partner will be very freaky and they down to do everything and anything, no matter the occasion, there is no boundaries that the two of you will not cross to satisfy each other. The two of you will not be able to keep your hands to yourselves and will be turned on by the other that it will automatically be on sight when you two get together. You and your person will have an amazing and explosive sex life that is exciting to say the least, so the both of you will never have to worry about things getting boring or stagnant. There could be an interest in bdsm, mutual pleasure, and roleplay in the bedroom. Your partner’s desire is to impregnate you and start a family right away. They want to release inside of you and make you climax multiple times every time the both of you get intimate because they want to ensure that your needs and wants are being met and that you are kept satisfied. You are the only forbidden fruit that they are tempted to consume. Your person will literally move the sun, stars, moon, and the universe to make and keep you satisfied .

message from your person to you

“Anywhere with you is everywhere I want to be.”

“I still haven’t figured out how to sit across from you, and not be madly in love with everything you do.”

“I never want to stop making memories with you.”

pile iii • the world • high priestess • the lovers

First and foremost, this is a past life connection that you and your spouse share with each other, so the both of you will be instinctly drawn to one another when you meet very soon and the rest will be history. Your person will literally worship and cherish you. You are the reason why this person lives and breathes, you are the center of their universe and you complete them in every way possible. Your person will be totally devoted to you and will do anything for you to keep you happy and satisfied in the marriage because they cherish you and this connection. The both of you will make each other feel loved and whole. You are the morning sun that brightens up their day and they are the moon that lights up their life. The bond that the both of you share will be strong as steel that nothing can pull the two of you apart. The two of you will be so in sync that the both of you will intuitively know how the other feels and thinks. Your partner will be your peace and clarity, as will you be the same for them when things become chaotic and unclear. The both of you will respect, love, honor, and trust each other without difficulty or fear. You two will feel as if you two were perfectly and divinely made for each other, so this marriage will definitely be a happily ever after. 

intimacy • six of pentacles • queen of wands • the devil

The sex between you and your person will be very interesting. I’m picking up that you will personally love to tease and seduce your partner to get them riled up before the big showdown, and I see that this person will love every minute of it. This may be your way to get their attention when you are feeling bored and in the mood to play. Your spouse will find you to be very sexy and confident, as you know what you want and how to get it by any means necessary, and they will find this to be extremely sexy and a complete turn on. Your partner will be very keen on giving and receiving pleasure, so don’t be afraid to tell them what your fantasies and desires are when it comes to the bedroom. They may enjoy performing oral on you, and mutual masturbation, just to hear you beautiful moans, as confirmation that you belong only to them and no one else. Nothing will be off limits when it comes to intimacy. For some, you and your partner will want to explore out of the traditional and conventional ways of intimacy and would rather explore unconventional, yet rather taboo experiences, so trying out and enjoying anything that is kinky like bdsm, bondage, whips, chains, etc… etc. 

messages from your person to you

“I had never met a soul who could speak my language until there was you.”

”The most beautiful part is I wasn’t even looking when I found you.”

“I don’t want to just love you. I want our souls to merge and burn brighter than any star found in the universe.”

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Jealous!Toto Wolff with wife reader. He trust her. He just doesn't trust people who were flirting with her and getting her uncomfortable. With their son, Jack, both of them team up to protect her and become her knight in shining armor. Thanks!! :))

Hii I hope you enjoy this request :)

Race day buzzed with a palpable tension around the paddock, especially in the Mercedes garage. Despite it being the Red Bull Ring, it was a crucial race for Toto. The fact that you had volunteered to show the celebrity guests around the garage only added to the strain.

Envy gnawed at Toto, a rare emotion for the composed team principal. He knew you were just being your warm, welcoming self, but it didn’t ease the discomfort seeing how close one of the guests, a towering basketball player, was standing next to you. The flirtatious jokes flew over your head, but they didn't escape Toto’s notice. The closeness, the laughter �� it was too much. And it seemed he wasn't the only one feeling the sting of jealousy.

"Dad, when will Mom finish with the guests? I want to show her something," your son Jack asked, his eyes mirroring Toto's unease.

Toto bent down, placing a reassuring hand on Jack's shoulder. "She’ll be done soon, buddy. Why don’t we go get a drink and then come back?" He tried to keep his voice calm, but his heart pounded with a mix of protectiveness and irritation.

Jack pouted slightly but nodded, trusting his dad’s words. As they walked toward the hospitality area, Toto couldn't help but glance back at you. The basketball player leaned in closer, his laughter annoyingly loud. You, engrossed in showcasing the car, seemed oblivious to the man's intentions. Toto's protective instincts were at an all-time high.

Jack tugged on his hand, snapping him back to reality. "Dad, do you think Mom likes that guy?"

Toto chuckled, though it sounded strained. "No, Jack. Mom’s just being nice. She’s always kind to everyone, remember?"

Jack nodded, his young face still clouded with worry. "But he’s not nice. He keeps trying to make Mom laugh. I don’t like it."

Toto ruffled Jack’s hair, his smile softening. "Neither do I, kiddo. Neither do I."

Back at the garage, you were wrapping up the tour, finally noticing the basketball player’s increasingly bold attempts to monopolize your attention. You smiled politely, trying to steer the conversation back to the car and the race, but he was persistent.

Just then, you felt a familiar presence behind you. Turning, you saw Toto and Jack approaching, both wearing matching expressions of determination. Relief washed over you.

"Excuse me," you said to the guest, stepping away to greet your husband and son. "How are my two favorite guys doing?"

Jack ran to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Mom, I want to show you something! Can you come now?"

Toto smiled, though his eyes still held a flicker of irritation. "Yes, love. We need you back. There are some… adjustments we need to discuss."

Sensing the underlying tension in Toto's voice, you placed a gentle hand on his arm, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Of course. Let’s go."

As you walked away with your family, the basketball player called out to you, but Toto shot him a look that silenced any further attempts. With his attention fully on you and Jack, Toto felt a surge of triumph.

In the relative quiet of a private area, you knelt down to Jack’s level. "What did you want to show me, sweetheart?"

Jack grinned, pulling out a small, hand-drawn picture from his pocket. It was a simple but charming drawing of the three of you, with a race car in the background. "I made this for you, Mom. It’s us winning the race!"

You smiled, your heart melting at the sight. "It’s perfect, Jack. Thank you so much."

Toto looked at the drawing, his heart softening as well. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "We’ve got the best team here, don’t we?"

You leaned into him, feeling the love and support from your family. "We sure do."

[justaz]

i saw a tiktok from sapphirerainsky/starry about a love spell and there was no way i could expand on it in a tiktok comment so i’m here. anyway, sorceress casts a spell over camelot that makes everyone fall for the person who has saved them and the intensity of their feelings corresponds to how many times they’ve been saved. so the average camelot citizen is quite fond of merlin while the knights are more forward and flirtatious and offering him gifts and whatnot. and then theres arthur who physically cannot stand being more than -3 centimeters away from merlin at all times, like it physically pains him to not be touching merlin.

anyway the sorceress finds it amusing once they all catch on and confront her. her eyes pin on merlin and she explains the spell and why everyone feels the way they do. since they’re all conscious/aware under the magic, they’re like “wtf?? we know merlin has saved us a time or two here and there but i would literally gut myself and offer my skin to him to keep him warm” especially arthur who is like “i want to mold our bodies together into one to breathe the same air, for our heart to pump the same blood, for our eyes to see the same sky”

so the sorceress is like “well, lets let them save you this time” and snatches merlin before disappearing. the knights are frantic, arthur is quite sure he’s having six heart attacks at once. merlin and the sorceress are in her cottage sipping tea next to a fire. she’s chatting with some serving boy who has somehow saved not just the king but all of camelot at least three times and then boom apparently she’s talking to freaking emrys??? he asks politely for her to undo her enchantment and she’s like “holy fuck yeah ofc i’m so sorry”

the knights get a clearer head to search for merlin and eventually the sorceress just returns him and arthur drags him into a bone crushing hug and is babbling all this nonsense about worrying he’d never see him again. merlin exchanges a look with the relieved and amused knights behind him. but merlin is never the one to turn down affection from arthur so he returns the hug and is like “uh arthur?” and he hums against his shoulder. merlin grins “you know she removed the spell, right?”

[artful-aries]

Hi, can I get “ when you’re in danger” with Diluc, Kaeya, Ayato, and Tighnari? Ty! Enjoyed your other ily HCs

Hello hello! I’m so glad you’ve liked my other content! I hope you enjoy this as well :3

When You’re In Danger - Diluc, Kaeya, Ayato, Tighnari

Diluc

His blood runs cold as his worst nightmare becomes reality. He knew it was only a matter of time before you got pulled into his personal war against the Abyss Order, yet now that the day was here he found himself regretting every choice he had ever made that led to this

The Vision wielder who is normally calm and collected turns savage, almost feral in his desperation to ensure your safety. Part of it is his duty to being Mondstatd’s silent protector, but the other part of it is his almost crippling fear of losing another person that he loves

Caution is thrown to the wind as he fights though his enemies, his fiery gaze only focused on getting to you as quick as possible. It doesn’t matter if he gets injured, he will see you rescued at all costs

It doesn’t take long for him to practically obliterate the Abyss mages, standing before you panting heavily with the exertion he just put himself through.

Diluc’s clothes are singed, his hair crackles slightly with the remnants of electro, and there’s a look in his eyes that makes your heart sink to your stomach. He looks like a different man entirely

He can see the way you look at him, almost scared, yet he feels almost detached from reality. His present feelings mix with ones from his memories, making it hard for him to focus and calm both of you down

Diluc eventually reaches out a gloved hand and tentatively brushes your hair. When you don’t pull away, he’ll immediately grab you up and hold you tightly to his chest, where you can feel just how hard his heart is pounding. It was almost like he was more terrified than you had been

After this run in with the Abyss Order, Diluc doesn’t let you out of his sight if he can help it, and if business truly calls him away he would still find a way to keep tabs on you. He’s willing to go so far as to ask Kaeya to watch over you if it came to that

For a while afterwards, he is pretty shaken up by the ordeal, as it was a chilling reminder of how easily he could lose you

Having you reassure him and soothe him helps, and eventually he gets back to his old self, but the underlying anxiety will always be there. He doesn’t know who he would be without you, and isn’t keen on finding out any time soon

Kaeya

The usually quippy, unbothered Cavalry Captain would turn uncharacteristically grim and serious upon finding out you were in danger. He becomes as chilled as his cryo Vision as he shamelessly uses the Knights of Favonius’ resources to track down who kidnapped you

Whether it’s hilichurls, treasure hoarders, the Fatui, or any other conceivable threat, Kaeya won’t waste time cultivating a plan to rescue you. He would prefer to do this alone, but he’s not above getting the Knights to help him out if there is an overwhelming number of opponents for him to handle by himself

It’s in rescuing you that his hidden talents come to light; not only is he able to pull strings to bring about his enemy’s downfall, but he is proficient in strategic combat. He didn’t earn the title of Cavalry Captain for no reason after all

He makes quick work of his enemies, being surprisingly level headed despite the situation. This sort of thing is what he is used to doing, although the stakes are higher now that you’re thrown into the mix

Once you’re officially rescued he might make a few flirtatious comments about being your knight in shining armor, but if you were to look carefully you’d see the slight furrow of his brows and the subtle tremble of his hands; Kaeya’s worried about you

After a small bit of reassurance from you that you’re okay, Kaeya will smile at you and resume his usual coy, flirtatious behavior

Even after the incident he’s not exactly clingy or overly anxious about your whereabouts and safety. Living will always come with danger regardless if he kept you glued at the hip or let you do as you pleased, so why not let you be happy?

That being said, he will secretly arrange for more patrols for the Knights in areas that he knows you frequent. If there was one positive to being the Cavalry Captain, it was his ability to pull a few strings to ensure your safety that would still leave him with free time to see you

If you happened to make a comment about how often you saw the Knights of Favonius patrolling more frequently, Kaeya would smirk to himself before telling you that they simply are earning their keep. Even if you suspected he had something to do with the more frequent patrols, he would feign ignorance

He prefers to keep how hard he works to keep you safe a secret, as he doesn’t want you feeling guilty or worried in any way. You deserved to live a carefree life while he did all the work behind the scenes

Ayato

Like Diluc, you being out in danger is his worst nightmare come to life. He had his reservations from the beginning of getting involved with you due to how many enemies he had as the head of the Kamisato Clan and the Yashiro Commission

However, dire circumstances are a regular Tuesday for the blue haired man, and despite his rising anxiety over the circumstances he is absolutely using every tool in his arsenal to ensure your safe return

Due to his position, he’s not exactly at liberty to swoop in and save you himself no matter how desperately he wants to. Carelessly jumping into situations for a man of his position could prove to create instability between the Commissions or give his other enemies a chance to strike while he is distracted

Therefore, Ayato sends the people he trusts most from the Shuumatsuban for your search and rescue. They are the only people in all of Inazuma that he would trust with such a delicate task, and has complete confidence that they will bring you back safe and unharmed

Naturally, their loyalty to Ayato makes failing him not an option, and they rescue you without a hitch and bring you back to the Kamisato residence. Seeing you returned brings an immense amount of relief to him, and he welcomes you back with open arms and apologizes for his lapse of judgment that enabled you to get kidnapped in the first place

It is a mistake that he intends to never make again. From now on, you’ll be shadowed by someone of the Shuumatsuban whether you know it or not, or on occasion personally escorted somewhere by Ayato himself when he finds an excuse to break away from his work momentarily

This arrangement is non negotiable for him; the kind of risks that come with being close to a man of his status are just far too great for you to not have some level of protection. After your kidnapping you’ll never get him to reconsider other alternatives to ensure your safety

Though his decision is calm and rational, he buries the genuine fear of losing you that the situation brought forth into his heart. He knows he cannot allow it to cloud his judgment, yet it’s so hard to get rid of. He doesn’t want to lose anyone else he cares about

If the idea of you having tight security truly bothers you enough to the point where you are upset with him, Ayato will consider making a compromise and just have Thoma look after you. With the two of them focused on making sure you’re safe and sound, you’re bound to never be put in danger again

Tighnari

He told you a thousand times to not go into that part of the Avidya forest until he and the other rangers could deal with a particularly bad fungi infestation in the area. But did you listen? Of course not

A scowl is permanently plastered onto his face as he focuses on driving off the fungi, wanting to get rid of them as quickly as possible so that he can ensure that you weren’t badly injured. He makes quick work of them after having dealt with them for years

However, don’t think you’re safe; Tighnari is raring to go with a lecture as he marches over to you, demanding to know what you were thinking and why you decided to not heed his advice. He compares you to his trainee forest rangers who always end up eating poisonous mushrooms

If he found that you were injured, his expression would soften as he would silently patch you up, trying to calm the anxious racing of his heart. He cared so much about your well being, but that often came out in the form of lectures and scolding rather than affection and tenderness

His irritation is obvious with the twitches of his ears, yet he stays quiet until he’s sure that you’re completely patched up before fixing you with a firm gaze, telling you that next time he expects you to listen to him when he tells you not to do something

You can’t help but feel like a child being taught a lesson, especially when Tighnari hoists you up and begins carrying you back, insisting that you shouldn’t strain yourself despite the fact that you felt completely fine. Needless to say, he continues to scold you the whole way back to Gandharva Ville

It takes a few days after the incident for him to get over his irritation, as he can’t stand when people take unnecessary risks, let alone when you do it yourself. However he knows that he can’t be mad at you forever, and you weren’t gravely injured from the incident

Despite getting over the fact that you nearly got yourself hurt, Tighnari isn’t going to trust you to go into the Avidya Forest for a long time. He’d rather accompany you to make sure you don’t do anything rash or directly go against his guidance, or he will at least make you take Collei with you

The day he finally lets you go by yourself again, he hands you a rather thick notebook full of guides and notes that he made himself, expecting you to read through it as you travel so that you don’t end up in another dangerous situation

Tighnari knows he’s a little sharp when it comes to guiding you on survival outside of Gandharva Ville, but it’s out of love and concern for your well being. If he’s not strict about this sort of thing, he knows exactly all of the terrible things that could happen to you out there

[smutinlove]

prince dick grayson x knight reader that doesn't like him that much??

u can make it fluffy smutty angsty wtv 🙏

implied fem reader

sort of forbidden love??????

angsty af

i was kinda listening to a sad playlist i made...

Prince Dick was known for his scandalous activities. But those "rumors" were almost always shut down by his majesty, King Bruce.

I mean, Prince Dick was the first in line to the throne, so he had to uphold his reputation. But that didn't stop him from flirting and fucking with every maid in the palace.

You, one of the trusted knights in Gotham, were assigned to guard and shield Prince Dick. But sometimes, it felt as if you didn't really do anything.

Dick was... Dick. Currently, he's fooling around with one of the maids of the palace. You could hear her moaning. The sounds of skin slapping and Dick's voice, telling her how much of a "good girl" she was.

Honestly, it was repulsive. This was the future king of Gotham.

A few minutes later, the door creaked open, and the maid ran out. Her cheeks were puffy and red. Dick leaned against the doorframe; his bedsheets were wrapped around his hips, but that didn't cover his boner.

"What'd I do?" Dick asked, tilting his head, causing you to snicker. "Well, your Royal Highness, maybe you should be less... Dickish."

"Come on, love, you love Dickish." You rolled your eyes. "Don't call me that, Dick."

He snickered. "Original. Hey, you know what?"

"What?"

"I have a perfectly empty bed, you know." You rolled your eyes. Prince Dick was always trying to get into your pants, either with his flirtatious comments or his wandering looks.

"Dick, stop," you muttered. "Why?" he said, looking up at you with the saddest expression. "Goodnight, your royal highness." Dick nodded, taking the hint. He retreated back into his room.

The sun rose, waking up the entire kingdom, including his royal highness, Prince Dick. You stood guard the entire night; it was part of the job, right?

The door creaked open, revealing Dick. There were bags under his eyes, and his cheeks were red and puffy. Your cold demeanor melted before it froze back over. "Are you alright, your royal highness?" you asked.

"What? Yeah, of course," he replied with a smile before quickly walking away.

Strange. Could it have been about last night? But you didn't care, right? You were his knight. And he was going to be king. And you sort of loathed him.

He was bratty, annoying, stupid, and a heartbreaker. You did not need that.

You watched as Prince Dick flirted with the neighboring princess, Princess Barbara. You were five feet behind Prince Dick, occasionally listening to his conversation with the princess whenever she laughed a little too loud.

Prince Dick led her to the fountain and gave her a kiss on the cheek; it wasn't incriminating, of course. But it was living up to his reputation of being an A-grade asshole and a flirt.

You looked away as the two continued flirting. You were not jealous, right? I mean, you were just a knight. You had no business being jealous.

You watched over Prince Dick every day. He was your responsibility. You had to follow him everywhere. You watched him flirt with countless men and women. You'd watched his breakdowns and his moments of triumph.

You had seen it all. But you felt empty every time. You were supposed to feel only one thing about him, and that was the need to protect him. That was it. But how have you changed over the past few years? He was becoming king soon. After that, he could get rid of you as he pleased.

You were a few feet behind him, watching as he entered his room before you took your place. You stood outside his door, guarding and protecting him from any possible harm.

Your eyes fell down to the doorknob. You wanted and needed to do so. An exchange of words wouldn't hurt, right?

Your hand fell to the doorknob, gripping it tightly. Your brain needed it to be locked, but your heart longed for it to be open.

Your cold demeanor melted as you twisted the doorknob, opening the door slowly. "What?" Dick called out, hearing the door creak open. "Hey," he said, turning around at the sound of your voice. "Oh, hey. Do you need something? I... did something happen?" he asked.

You smiled and shut the door, venturing further into his room. He tilted his head. "What's wrong?" he asked. You wrapped your arms around his neck, "This."

You leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss. Surprisingly, he kissed back. You quickly pulled away as you felt his hands slide down to your waist. "You and me... we can't happen, okay?"

"Why?" he asked obliviously. "I'm not a princess. I have no real title. And the kingdom would not approve, okay?" You replied, tears brimming your eyes.

"No, we can make this work, okay?" Dick tried reassuring you, but how? You were just a knight. It would never work.

"I do not wanna be your sidechick, Dick!" You yelled, tears falling down your eyes. "You're breaking my heart, love." His hand cupped your cheek.

You slapped it away. "We—we would be unhappy together! We would fight all the time and we would loathe each other, okay? Why can't you understand that?" Tears fell down your cheeks.

"Please, we can make this work, I promise," he whispered.

"No, Dick, we can't. We are too different." You gave him a soft kiss on his cheek and left.

You had nothing with Prince Dick Grayson. You were simply his protector.

CAN YOU TELL I LOVE ANGST??? OMG ANGST IS ANGSTING RN AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OMG

CAN YOU TELL I WAS LISTENING TO "YOU'RE LOSING ME?" YES? WELL, FUCK ANYWAY