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mollyrealized · 1 year ago

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How Michael Met Neil

original direct link [MP3]

(Neil, if you see this, please feel free to grab the transcript and store on your site; I had no easy way of contacting you.)

DAVID TENNANT: Tell me about @neil-gaiman then, because he's in that category [previously: “such a profound effect on my life”] as well.

MICHAEL SHEEN: So this is what has brought us together.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: To the new love story for the 21st century.

DAVID: Exactly.

MICHAEL: So when I went to drama school, there was a guy called Gary Turner in my year. And within the first few weeks, we were doing something, having a drink or whatever. And he said to me, “Do you read comic books?”

And I said, “No.” I mean, this is … what … '88? '88, '89. So it was … now I know that it was a period of time that was a big change, transformation going through comic books. Rather than it being thought of as just superheroes and Batman and Superman, there was this whole new era of a generation of writers like Grant Morrison.

DAVID: The kids who'd grown up reading comic books were now making comic books

MICHAEL: Yeah, yeah, and starting to address different kinds of subjects through the comic book medium. So it wasn't about just superheroes, it was all kinds of stuff going on – really fascinating stuff. And I was totally unaware of this.

And so this guy Gary said to me, "Do you read them?" And I said, "No." And he went, "Right, okay, here's The Watchman [sic] by Alan Moore. Here's Swamp Thing. Here's Hellblazer. And here's Sandman.”

And Sandman was Neil Gaiman's big series that put his name on the map. And I read all those, and, just – I was blown away by all of them, but particularly the Sandman stories, because he was drawing on mythology, which was something I was really interested in, and fairy tales, folklore, and philosophy, and Shakespeare, and all kinds of stuff were being mixed up in this story. And I absolutely loved it.

So I became a big fan of Neil's, and started reading everything by him. And then fairly shortly after that, within six months to a year, Good Omens the book came out, which Neil wrote with Terry Pratchett. And so I got the book – because I was obviously a big fan of Neil's by this point – read it, loved it, then started reading Terry Pratchett’s stuff as well, because I didn't know his stuff before then – and then spent years and years and years just being a huge fan of both of them.

And then eventually when – I'd done films like the Underworld films and doing Twilight films. And I think it was one of the Twilight films, there was a lot of very snooty interviews that happened where people who considered themselves well above talking about things like Twilight were having to interview me … and, weirdly, coming at it from the attitude of 'clearly this is below you as well' … weirdly thinking I'm gonna go, 'Yeah, fucking Twilight.”

And I just used to go, "You know what? Some of the greatest writing of the last 50-100 years has happened in science fiction or fantasy." Philip K Dick is one of my favorite writers of all time. In fact, the production of Hamlet I did was mainly influenced by Philip K Dick. Ursula K. Le Guin and Asimov, and all these amazing people. And I talked about Neil as well. And so I went off on a bit of a rant in this interview.

Anyway, the interview came out about six months later, maybe. Knock on the door, open the door, delivery of a big box. That’s interesting. Open the box, there's a card at the top of the box. I open the card.

It says, From one fan to another, Neil Gaiman. And inside the box are first editions of Neil's stuff, and all kinds of interesting things by Neil. And he just sent this stuff.

DAVID: You'd never met him?

MICHAEL: Never met him. He'd read the interview, or someone had let him know about this interview where I'd sung his praises and stood up for him and the people who work within that sort of genre as being like …

And he just got in touch. We met up for the first time when he came to – I was in Los Angeles at the time, and he came to LA. And he said, "I'll take you for a meal."

I said, “All right.”

He said, "Do you want to go somewhere posh, or somewhere interesting?”

I said, "Let's go somewhere interesting."

He said, "Right, I'm going to take you to this restaurant called The Hump." And it's at Santa Monica Airport. And it's a sushi restaurant.

I was like, “Right, okay.” So I had a Mini at the time. And we get in my Mini and we drive off to Santa Monica Airport. And this restaurant was right on the tarmac, like, you could sit in the restaurant (there's nobody else there when we got there, we got there quite early) and you're watching the planes landing on Santa Monica Airport. It's extraordinary.

And the chef comes out and Neil says, "Just bring us whatever you want. Chef's choice."

So, I'd never really eaten sushi before. So we sit there; we had this incredible meal where they keep bringing these dishes out and they say, “This is [blah, blah, blah]. Just use a little bit of soy sauce or whatever.” You know, “This is eel. This is [blah].”

And then there was this one dish where they brought out and they didn't say what it was. It was like “mystery dish”, we had it ... delicious. Anyway, a few more people started coming into the restaurant as time went on.

And we're sort of getting near the end, and I said, "Neil, I can't eat anymore. I'm gonna have to stop now. This is great, but I can't eat–"

"Right, okay. We'll ask for the bill in a minute."

And then the door opens and some very official people come in. And it was the Feds. And the Feds came in, and we knew they were because they had jackets on that said they were part of the Federal Bureau of Whatever. And about six of them come in. Two of them go … one goes behind the counter, two go into the kitchen, one goes to the back. They've all got like guns on and stuff.

And me and Neil are like, "What on Earth is going on?"

And then eventually one guy goes, "Ladies and gentlemen, if you haven't ordered already, please leave. If you're still eating your meal, please finish up, pay your bill, leave."*

[* - delivered in a perfect American ‘serious law agent’ accent/impression]

And we were like, "Oh my God, are we poisoned? Is there some terrible thing that's happened?"

We'd finished, so we pay our bill. And then all the kitchen staff are brought out. And the head chef is there. The guy who's been bringing us this food. And he's in tears. And he says to Neil, "I'm so sorry." He apologizes to Neil. And we leave. We have no idea what happened.

DAVID: But you're assuming it's the mystery dish.

MICHAEL: Well, we're assuming that we can't be going to – we can't be – it can't be poisonous. You know what I mean? It can't be that there's terrible, terrible things.

So the next day was the Oscars, which is why Neil was in town. Because Coraline had been nominated for an Oscar. Best documentary that year was won by The Cove, which was by a team of people who had come across dolphins being killed, I think.

Turns out, what was happening at this restaurant was that they were having illegal endangered species flown in to the airport, and then being brought around the back of the restaurant into the kitchen.

We had eaten whale – endangered species whale. That was the mystery dish that they didn't say what it was.

And the team behind The Cove were behind this sting, and they took them down that night whilst we were there.

DAVID: That’s extraordinary.

MICHAEL: And we didn't find this out for months. So for months, me and Neil were like, "Have you worked anything out yet? Have you heard anything?"

"No, I haven't heard anything."

And then we heard that it was something to do with The Cove, and then we eventually found out that that restaurant, they were all arrested. The restaurant was shut down. And it was because of that. And we'd eaten whale that night.

DAVID: And that was your first meeting with Neil Gaiman.

MICHAEL: That was my first meeting. And also in the drive home that night from that restaurant, he said, and we were in my Mini, he said, "Have you found the secret compartment?"

I said, "What are you talking about?" It's such a Neil Gaiman thing to say.

DAVID: Isn't it?

MICHAEL: The secret compartment? Yeah. Each Mini has got a secret compartment. I said, "I had no idea." It's secret. And he pressed a little button and a thing opened up. And it was a secret compartment in my own car that Neil Gaiman showed me.

DAVID: Was there anything inside it?

MICHAEL: Yeah, there was a little man. And he jumped out and went, "Hello!" No, there was nothing in there. There was afterwards because I started putting...

DAVID: Sure. That's a very Neil Gaiman story. All of that is such a Neil Gaiman story.

MICHAEL: That's how it began. Yeah.

DAVID: And then he came to offer you the part in Good Omens.

MICHAEL: Yeah. Well, we became friends and we would whenever he was in town, we would meet up and yeah, and then eventually he started, he said, "You know, I'm working on an adaptation of Good Omens." And I can remember at one point Terry Gilliam was going to maybe make a film of it. And I remember being there with Neil and Terry when they were talking about it. And...

DAVID: Were you involved at that point?

MICHAEL: No, no, I wasn't involved. I just happened to have met up with Neil that day.

DAVID: Right.

MICHAEL: And then Terry Gilliam came along and they were chatting, that was the day they were talking about that or whatever.

And then eventually he sent me one of the scripts for an early draft of like the first episode of Good Omens. And he said – and we started talking about me being involved in it, doing it – he said, “Would you be interested?” I was like, "Yeah, of course." I went, "Oh my God." And he said, "Well, I'll send you the scripts when they come," and I would read them, and we'd talk about them a little bit. And so I was involved.

But it was always at that point with the idea, because he'd always said about playing Crowley in it. And so, as time went on, as I was reading the scripts, I was thinking, "I don't think I can play Crowley. I don't think I'm going to be able to do it." And I started to get a bit nervous because I thought, “I don't want to tell Neil that I don't think I can do this.” But I just felt like I don't think I can play Crowley.

DAVID: Of course you can [play Crowley?].

MICHAEL: Well, I just on a sort of, on a gut level, sometimes you have it on a gut level.

DAVID: Sure, sure.

MICHAEL: I can do this.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: Or I can't do this. And I just thought, “You know what, this is not the part for me. The other part is better for me, I think. I think I can do that, I don't think I could do that.”

But I was scared to tell Neil because I thought, "Well, he wants me to play Crowley" – and then it turned out he had been feeling the same way as well. And he hadn't wanted to mention it to me, but he was like, "I think Michael should really play Aziraphale."

And neither of us would bring it up. And then eventually we did. And it was one of those things where you go, "Oh, thank God you said that. I feel exactly the same way." And then I think within a fairly short space of time, he said, “I think we've got … David Tennant … for Crowley.” And we both got very excited about that.

And then all these extraordinary people started to join in. And then, and then off we went.

DAVID: That's the other thing about Neil, he collects people, doesn't he? So he'll just go, “Oh, yeah, I've phoned up Frances McDormand, she's up for it.” Yeah. You're, what?

MICHAEL: “I emailed Jon Hamm.”

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And yeah, and you realize how beloved he is and how beloved his work is. And I think we would both recognise that Good Omens is one of the most beloved of all of Neil's stuff.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: And had never been turned into anything.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And so the kind of responsibility of that, I mean, for me, for someone who has been a fan of him and a fan of the book for so long, I can empathize with all the fans out there who are like, “Oh, they better not fuck this up.”

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: “And this had better be good.” And I have that part of me. But then, of course, the other part of me is like, “But I'm the one who might be fucking it up.”

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: So I feel that responsibility as well.

DAVID: But we have Neil on site.

MICHAEL: Yes. Well, Neil being the showrunner …

DAVID: Yeah. I think it takes the curse off.

MICHAEL: … I think it made a massive difference, didn't it? Yeah. You feel like you're in safe hands.

DAVID: Well, we think. Not that the world has seen it yet.

MICHAEL (grimly): No, I know.

DAVID: But it was a -- it's been a -- it's been a joy to work with you on it. I can't wait for the world to see it.

MICHAEL: Oh my God. Oh, well, I mean, it's the only, I've done a few things where there are two people, it's a bit of a double act, like Frost-Nixon and The Queen, I suppose, in some ways. But, and I've done it, Amadeus or whatever.

This is the only thing I've done where I really don't think of it as “my character” or “my performance as that character”. I think of it totally as us.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: The two of us.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: Like they, what I do is defined by what you do.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And that was such a joy to have that experience. And it made it so much easier in a way as well, I found, because you don't feel like you're on your own in it. Like it's totally us together doing this and the two characters totally complement each other. And the experience of doing it was just a real joy.

DAVID: Yeah. Well, I hope the world is as excited to see it as we are to talk about it, frankly.

MICHAEL: You know, there's, having talked about T.S. Eliot earlier, there's another bit from The Wasteland where there's a line which goes, These fragments I have shored against my ruin.

And this is how I think about life now. There is so much in life, no matter what your circumstances, no matter what, where you've got, what you've done, how much money you got, all that. Life's hard. I mean, you can, it can take you down at any point.

You have to find this stuff. You have to like find things that will, these fragments that you hold to yourself, they become like a liferaft, and especially as time goes on, I think, as I've got older, I've realized it is a thin line between surviving this life and going under.

And the things that keep you afloat are these fragments, these things that are meaningful to you and what's meaningful to you will be not-meaningful to someone else, you know. But whatever it is that matters to you, it doesn't matter what it was you were into when you were a teenager, a kid, it doesn't matter what it is. Go and find them, and find some way to hold them close to you.

Make it, go and get it. Because those are the things that keep you afloat. They really are. Like doing that with him or whatever it is, these are the fragments that have shored against my ruin. Absolutely.

DAVID: That's lovely. Michael, thank you so much.

MICHAEL: Thank you.

DAVID: For talking today and for being here.

MICHAEL: Oh, it's a pleasure. Thank you.

#neil gaiman #michael sheen #david tennant does a podcast with...#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #sushi #whale #the cove #oscars 2010 #coraline #mini secret compartments #howneilmetmichael #howmichaelmetneil

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 2 months ago

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Blue Blood and Rain [11] - Bonus

King John x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? •

Summary: Set a few months after the main story. The King comforts you when you're on your period.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Kisses, pet names, period sex, p in v sex, cream pie, fingering, overuse of italics, power dynamics because he's the king, I have totally made up servant/noble dynamics because I wanted to, not beta read, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 3405

You lay crouched up on your side in bed, your face buried into your pillow. Isabella had kindly warmed a metal bar in boiling water before wrapping it many times in fabric for you to press against your stomach, as well as bringing you a bitter tasting tea that she said helped with period pains.

You weren’t sure if it really did, but you’d take any help that you could at this point. You bite back a groan as a cramp pushes its blade deep into your belly.

The door opens, the sound far away in your hazy pain half sleep state.

“My love?” The King’s hand is soothing as he strokes your arm, his voice soft. He kisses your temple when you murmur a reply.

You had told him this morning to go about his duties as normal, practically begged him while you said that there was no cause for alarm or worry.

He had promptly ignored you and fetched the medicine women who were currently housed in the castle. It had amused you the first time you had found out that the King was wary of doctors. He had nearly died as a child, recalling how the continuous blood lettings and leeches had only made him weaker and weaker. How their sneering faces still leered at him in his nightmares.

It had been a medicine woman, brought to the castle as a last ditch attempt by his mother, who had given him herbs and poultice that finally broke the fever. It was now customary for several medicine women to be at the castle at once, training others and visiting villages up and down the country.

They had talked to the King gently, reassuring him that you were not at death’s door.

“You should be at your meetings.” You say quietly, half mumbling.

He walks around to climb onto the bed next to you, wrapping his arm over your side to cover your hand and helping to press the heat against your stomach as he hugs you. He kisses the back of your neck.

“I was worried about you.”

“I’m fine.”

“I do not like to see you in pain.”

“I’m sorry.”

He scoffs. “Do not be. This is not your fault.”

“It is… a little. It is my body, is it not?”

He tuts, shaking his head and kissing your shoulder. “Do not say such foolish things.”

You can hear the smile in his voice. “I don’t want to disrupt your day, Your Highness.”

“A King can do what he wants, and what I want is to lay with you.” He gives you a light squeeze. “If you’ll allow it.”

You smile weakly. “I allow it.”

You drift off into a weak, feverish sleep for a short while until you are rudely awakened by another tight grind of pain. You flinch, screwing up your face.

The King tightens his arm, curling his body closer to you as if he can shield you from your own body.

“Are you alright?” He asks gently.

You nod. “I am.”

He swallows, propping himself up a little so that he can see your face. “The wise women spoke with me about ways to help ease your discomfort.” He strokes your arm. “Later, or when you feel ready, a warm bath and some poppy tea?”

You turn onto your back so that you can look at him.

He strokes your cheek lovingly, his eyes soft.

“You’re too kind to me, Your Highness.”

He tuts again, but it’s good natured. “I wish I could rid you of this pain instantly.” Gently, as if you were so easily breakable, he leans down and kisses the tip of your nose before nuzzling against it with his own.

You grin, wrapping one arm around his neck and pull him to your lips. He kisses you lazily, licking into your mouth with a syrupy slowness that has you inching closer.

His hand slides to your hip, squeezing lightly as you urge him nearer, eagerly stroking his tongue with your own.

He hums happily, his warm breath from his nose hitting your cheek, and groaning when you nibble on his bottom lip.

“Hmm, my love.” He sighs, his eyes closed, his eyelashes fluttering and kissing his cheeks. He kisses you again, slow and desperate.

You can’t help but shift closer, moving your legs apart a little. Part of you wants him between them, to grind against him wantonly. Your cunt twitches, throbbing lightly at the thought as a spark of arousal settles in your bones.

He groans softly as you kiss him fiercely, settling on top of you.

You tug a little on his shirt. Maybe he could, could just rub against you. You shake your head slightly, he wouldn’t want that, you shouldn't want… Despite the ache of pain in your lower stomach, the thought is nonetheless inviting. Soothing almost.

The semi hard outline of his cock brushes against your thigh and he moans before cutting himself off and pulling back from your lips.

“I’m sorry, my love.” He breathes hard, his lips flushed and eyes still closed. “I do not mean to force my wants onto you-”

“Please?” You widen your legs, tug lightly on his shoulders, your body begging for him before you even have a chance to get a hold of yourself.

He opens his eyes wide, and you mistake his look of surprise for one of outrage.

“I’m sorry,” Your blurt out, your words running together. “I don’t mean-”

Without warning his lips are back on yours, kissing greedily as he runs his hands down your slides and gently kneads your inner thighs. He urges you wider, truly settling between your legs. He grinds his erection against your core, experimentally at first, his movements soft and light but quickly becoming harder when you groan against his lip and buck up to meet him.

“My love, my love,” He mutters into your mouth, drinking down your responses and sighs. “Let me… let me make love to you.” He moans, his voice dark and desperate. The richness of it runs along your veins, setting your skin alight.

“You want that?” You manage to breathe as he kisses your jaw and neck, pressing his lips and tongue to the fading love bites that litter your skin.

He growls, a shiver running through him. “So, so much. But only if you want it.”

You nod hazily, gasping as he palms your breast and flicks his thumb over your pebbling nipple. “I want it.”

“Fuck.” He kisses you again, robbing the air from your lungs. “The wise women told me sometimes it helps to ease monthly pain,” he tries to sit up, fighting his own body’s urge to stay as close to you as possible, as he pulls off his shirt. “And since then, I must confess, the thought has not left my mind.”

You run your hands along his chest, and he preens, arching into your touch. His skin is on fire under your fingers, begging for the soothing touch of your caress.

“Not that I came here to force you to-”

“You do not force me to do anything, Your Highness. I want you.”

He groans, his eyes rolling back when you scrape your thumbnails across his chest, catching his nipples. He shivers, letting out the smallest sound.

“It will be messy.” You say, uncertainly.

“God, I hope so.” He kisses you again eagerly, his tongue pillaging your mouth. He pulls up your nightdress, raking it up around your waist.

“Have you ever… before, with someone at this time?” You look up at him hesitantly, a small growing knot of worry in your chest is starting to outshine your arousal. What if he hates it? What if-

He shakes his head. “Never.” The look he gives you makes you weak. How his lips are parted, how dilated his eyes are. It’s like you're staring at the sun.

“We can stop at any time, my love. You say the word.”

“You as well.” You say firmly. “You want to stop, you say.” He smiles, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it. “I will, I promise.” He kisses your wrist, pressing his lips to the soft skin along your arm. His beard scrapes pleasantly, the sensation zinging along your nerves.

He helps you out of your nightdress slowly, easing it off you and groaning with each inch of skin that is revealed to him, as if he hadn’t seen you bare countless times before.

The look in his eyes is greedy, so needy, and it makes you light headed, almost dizzy to be wanted that badly. But he takes his time, urging you back onto the mattress and lightly kissing your throat, your collarbone, inching his lips down to your breasts as he settles between your legs.

His weight is comforting, familiar and secure and exciting. A thrill you still relish each chance you get.

Lightly, he presses his face to your chest, reaching up to palm your breast as he kisses your sternum softly. He nuzzles the side of your right breast, groaning as he trails his tongue over your skin and then laps at your nipple.

Without thinking, you sink your hand into his hair, pulling lightly at his curls, just how you know he likes. He smiles against you, flicking his tongue and then sucking eagerly.

You gasp, wriggling under him and pressing yourself closer to the sweet heat of his mouth. He groans louder, looking up at you with dark, lust blown eyes as he sucks gently, being careful not to overstimulate you in your sensitive state.

“Your Highness,” You whine, bucking up weakly against him, and he moans loudly, gulping as he closes his eyes to get a hold of himself.

He slips his right hand down your stomach slowly to press at your core through your undergarments firmly.

You swallow, your body jolting slightly as he brushes against your clit, the sensation sparking up your spine despite the layers of cloth that should dull it.

“May I take these off?” He asks, trying to keep his voice light and sweet despite how his cock throbs between his legs.

You nod, a little shly and he groans again, pressing his forehead into your breast for a moment.

“My love, please, you will make me come untouched with that look.”

You giggle and stroke his hair. “What look?”

He tuts playfully, lifting his head just enough to give you a glare. “You know which one.”

“I do not.” You try to suppress your laughter fruitlessly.

“Lies.” He pokes out his tongue and then kisses your chest repeatedly. “You look too sweet, you look too wanton, you look too delicious.”

You snort.

“You doubt your King?”

“I do.”

He fake gasps and sits up on his knees. “This outrage, I will not stand for it.”

“No?”

“No.” He shakes his head dramatically, trying and failing to hide his smile. “You simply must make it up to me.”

You grin. “With my mouth on you?”

He gives you a soft look, but shakes his head. “No, my sweetest thing,” he slowly pulls down your undergarments, lifting your hips and then your legs gently, “By coming for me.”

He swallows, running his warm hands up your legs and squeezing your inner thighs deliciously.

You moan softly, your back instinctively arching. Lightly, he urges your legs further apart, groaning low in his chest when he sees arousal mixed with your blood.

Oh so gently, he traces your outer lips with his fingers, barely skimming over your skin. He ghosts around your clit, pressing close but never quite where you need before rubbing your thighs again.

You swallow, the sound painfully loud as you try to control your rapid breathing.

He smiles, but does not tear his eyes away from your core. Slightly firmer this time, he caresses just around your clit. His touch is sure, precise, and your body bucks a little no matter how you try to stop it.

He never quite touches where you need, a fraction away from the source of your ache. It burns under your skin, building and growing, as wetness seeps out of you.

“Your Highness,” you start, unable to take anymore, but he grins wickedly, his eyes darting up to meet yours as he sinks two fingers inside agonisingly slowly at the same moment he presses the pad of his thumb to your clit.

Your gasp, a small whine breaking past your lips as he stretches you so wonderfully, as his thumb rocks against you in a maddening, alternating pressure that has you grabbing the bedsheets for dear life.

“There we are.” He groans, grinning and biting his lip as he moves his hand painfully slowly, revelling in how your breathing hitches and how your pussy clutches hold of him and tries to drag him deeper. “How does it feel?”

“Good.” You sob, pressing your head back against the pillow. “So good.”

He hums in satisfaction, stroking in and out. He watches your face eagerly as he kneels between your legs, glancing down to see your slick and blood smeared across his fingers as he pleasures you. The slight makes him groan, makes his cock throb even more for attention.

“I want you to feel good every second of every day,” he mutters, his voice thick. “It’s my duty to fight any pain that dares to touch you.”

Part of you hears him, but most of you is too lost in the feeling of his thick fingers. How he pushes and glides, the stretch burning away the dull ache of your cycle, the pressure on your clit making your blood sing and shiver.

“Please,” you whimper, but you’re not sure what you’re begging for.

He leans closer, bending forward on his knees to watch you with lidded eyes. “Anything, everything. All for you.”

“I want, I want you to…” You swallow, grinding down onto him and mewling when he presses firmly, your thighs shaking.

“Anything.” He repeats, gazing at you with the most love sick expression.

“Please, I want you to be completely inside,” you moan as he strokes perfectly, the pleasure almost agonising. “I want to feel you…”

“You want my cock?”

“I need your cock.” You sob and he groans, grinning.

“As my Lady needs.” He moves swiftly, putting his fingers from you with a practically obscene sound. He undoes his trousers quickly with his left hand, groaning when the pressure of the material finally eases off his aching cock.

He pumps himself twice with his right hand, smearing your blood and slick along his length before he lines himself up with your trance.

“Ready?” He raises an eyebrow at you teasingly.

You pull at his curls with one hand and his shoulder with the other, “Your Highness.” You say sternly and he chuckles.

“Of course, my love, of course.” He kisses you sweetly as he pushes inside, a low moan rumbling through his chest as your pussy flutters and squeezes the tip of his cock.

You gasp into his mouth, widening your legs and angling your hips to help him sink deeper.

The stretch is wonderful, soothing and overshadowing the ache of your pain.

The King groans your name, pressing his forehead against yours as he bottoms out. “God, you're holding me so tight,” he rocks gently, barely pulling out but rolling his hips hypnotically as he watches your face intently.

The dark patch of curls between his legs rubs against your clit and you whine, your body trembling.

He grins, his eyes lighting up. With every buck he adjusts the angle slightly, stroking the tip of his cock against your fluttering walls until your steady moan becomes a gasp and your grasp on his biceps tighten.

He hums, satisfied, focusing utterly on caressing the same spot again and again.

You shake, almost trying to squirm away from the deep current of pleasure that’s building and pulsing at the heart of you. Your breath catches in your throat, your cries growing in pitch as he utterly destroys you, taking you apart piece by piece.

“That’s it…” He breathes heavily, groaning with each roll and thrust. He can feel his end fast approaching, the sensation building and building in his lower spine, and so ready to explode at any given moment. “That’s it, my love.”

He swallows hard as he fights and loses against the urge to pick up the pace, to fuck you harder. This is meant to be for your pleasure, to help you. But he just can’t help himself, his body betraying him as he loses himself in the feel of you.

You’re so close, the sweetness of it is already on your tongue. You rock up to meet his thrusts, holding onto him for dear life.

He can’t help but glance down to where you’re both connected, his eyes rolling back at the sight. The sound that rumbles through his chest is primal, animalistic as he watches your arousal and blood coat his cock as he bullies it in and out of you.

“You take me so well,” he gasps, one hand squeezing your thigh, spreading you wider. “You- You’re too good for me.” He swallows, his stomach tightening. “I’m, I’m,” he bites his lip, trying in vain to hold back from the pleasure that is draining his will. “God, please, let me come in you.” He closes his eyes, a high pitched whine leaving his lips.

You moan loudly, his words pushing you over the edge. You come hard on his cock, pulsing and writhing under him as you sob his name. Your hands squeeze his arms, your left leg hooking around his hips to keep him inside.

He gasps, his thrust stuttering as he swears loudly and comes inside you hot and thick, moaning and whimpering as your walls flutter and pulse and suck him so deep.

He doesn’t mean to collapse against you, practically pinning you to the bed, but all his energy seems to leave him in an instant.

A half mumbled apology leaves his lips, but you cut him off, kissing his temple and wrapping your arms around him, keeping him close.

You breathe hard, your heartbeat slowly returning to normal.

“I’m sure we’ve made such a mess.” You mutter, but you’re too exhausted to do anything about it at the moment.

“Don’t worry,” he mumbles into your neck. “I’ll get up in a moment, ask for a bath to be run for us both to enjoy while the bed is changed.”

“I should-”

“You should do nothing but relax.” He raises his head a fraction to give you a soft look and smile. “Obey your King.”

You giggle. “Yes, Your Highness.”

He groans softly, his cock twitching in your heat. “Maybe give me a few minutes, and we can continue once more before the bath?”

You laugh louder at the purposefully cheeky look he gives you.

“Is that an order?” You smile.

But he shakes his head instantly, despite the playful expression on his face. “Never.”

“Well, I agree to it anyway.”

Gently, he strokes your cheek before he kisses you lightly. “How are you feeling?”

You nod. “Better.”

“Good.”

“Though, I fear I might have to have the King’s cock in me all week to help ease the pain.”

“Ahh, what a chore.” He puts his hand to his head dramatically. “Needs must, I suppose.” His grin widens when you giggle again.

“Is it…” He pauses, “I hope you did not feel like you had to…”

“Had to?”

“Had to let me,” he pauses and takes a deep breath. “I did not talk with you beforehand about coming inside, I’m sorry, I became caught up and-”

You kiss him quickly to cut off his words, only breaking away to rub your nose soothingly against his. “You asked, I wanted it too.”

“Hmm,” he smiles. “You did?”

You nod, and he puffs his chest out a little.

“I know it is normally safe to do so during this time…” He strokes your neck absentmindedly, tracing your collarbone lightly. “But it is not… foolproof…”

“I have no objections either way.” You say a little shyly, but the blindingly soft look he gives you washes any worry away.

“You do not?”

You shake your head, and he beams. “I love you so much,” softly, he licks into your mouth. “So very, very much.”

Thank you for reading!

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