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ro-is-struggling · 1 month

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Safer In His Arms || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Requested by anon

Summary: Since you were little you always dreamed of meeting a noble and brave knight, falling in love and marrying him to rule your kingdom together until the end of your days. But as you looked around at the men that had come to the banquet to ask for your hand in marriage, it was clear that those dreams were nothing more than a fantasy. Or at least that's what you thought until fate crossed your path with Geralt of Rivia. The witcher, with his hard expression and cold stare, was the last person anyone would describe as warm or chivalrous. But not you. From the moment you met him, you saw nothing but kindness in his eyes. And when he managed to rescue you from the hands of bandits, you knew that maybe there was still some hope that your fantasy could come true —just maybe not in the way you had always imagined.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of sexual assault (nothing happens but if it’s triggering for you I wouldn’t read it), protective!geralt, SMUT MINORS DNI, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, loss of virginity (not accurate this is just porn!), dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, aftercare, fluff

English is not my first language

Word count: 13500 (not even sorry)

Notes: I don't know why I keep giving every princess I write a sad/tragic story, sorry about that. Also this ended up being way more smutty than I anticipated, sorry about that too (not really). It was supposed to be a fun little hurt/comfort fic about Geralt saving the reader but it developed a mind of its own and ended up being another excuse to write more smut. I tried to make the smut a bit more fluffy than normal since it's supposed to be the reader's first time, but I didn't want it to be too fluffy given that they technically barely know each other, so there's no actual love between them (if that makes sense?). So, sorry if it's a bit all over the place!

The cold breeze of the summer night hit your skin the moment you set foot outside, reminding you that you should have taken a coat. While the days tended to be hot this time of year, once the sun set over the horizon a cool breeze embraced the entire kingdom, courtesy of the ocean forces that surrounded the borders of the land. It was quite peaceful. On a quiet night you loved to sit in the courtyard listening to the waves crashing against the rocks and smelling the scent of the salty water that was carried by the winds and mingled with the sweet perfume of the garden flowers. It seemed to always bring peace to your troubled mind, and that was exactly what you needed right now.

You could still hear the noise coming from inside the castle, though it was slowly getting lost in the sound of the sea. The laughter, the chatter, the joyful music, it all faded into the background as you plopped down on one of the seats in the courtyard, allowing yourself a moment to take a deep breath and let the beauty of your kingdom impart some of the wisdom you so desperately needed. All the guests were there for you —to talk and dance with you, to make unattainable but romantic promises in exchange for your hand in marriage— and yet all you wanted to do was disappear. You were tired of the politics, the diplomacy, tired of feeling the pressure of having to decide the future of your life and your kingdom in one night. The choice of a husband was very important to your parents, to your people and it should be to you too, but all you wanted was for the day to be over.

"I'm glad to see I'm not the only one feeling overwhelmed in there." A deep voice startled you.

Looking up you were met with a tall man leaning against one of the stone pillars supporting the roof of the covered section of the courtyard. His arms were crossed over his chest, muscles showing through the fabric of his clothes. His white hair hid part of his face, though you could still make out his hard expression and defined jaw. But what caught your attention the most was not the size of his muscles or the fact that the clothes he was wearing seemed too elegant for someone like him. No, what caught your attention the most were the amber eyes that watched you, admiring you from a distance, hiding behind a few rebellious strands of hair. You had never seen such beautiful eyes before. They were piercing, and yet there was a softness in them. Like the sun on a summer afternoon, they shone with an intensity that would have blinded anyone. But you were mesmerized by them, unable to look away.

"Though I must admit I did not expect to find you here, your highness, given that you are the center of the party."

"I needed some fresh air." You managed to say, forcing yourself to look away from his eyes. "I lost count of the number of men I danced with tonight...I just needed a break."

"That bad, huh?" His lips curved upward slightly, giving his hard expression a softer look. "I suppose if any of them had made a good impression at least you would remember their name."

"It wouldn't matter anyways. My parents have a very strong opinion about the one I should choose." You let out a bitter chuckle. "This banquet is just a formality, a contingency plan.... Give everyone a false sense of hope so they won't attack us for feeling left out."

"I'm sure you still have some sort of control over the whole thing. You're the one getting married after all."

"Since when does a woman's opinion matter when there's wealth and power involved? I'm just a pawn in their political game." Your gaze dropped, focusing on the embroidered details of your dress to avoid facing the intense gaze of the man in front of you. "When I was a girl I used to dream of growing up, meeting a brave and honorable prince and falling in love with him... now I know that feelings come after marriage, if they come at all."

Geralt watched you walk arround the courtyard, your fingers tracing the petals of the flowers that decorated the place without paying much attention to your movements. You had a blank stare and a sad expression adorned your delicate face. He was not a big lover of royalty —he didn't care about politics and didn't like the arrogant tone with which most of them used to speak—, but you were different. When he looked at you he didn't see a spoiled, arrogant princess or a manipulative political figure capable of anything to get their way. He only saw a sad and disillusioned young woman, confused about her future and the responsibility that fell on her shoulders.

Geralt felt bad for you and had an inexplicable urge to hug you, though he restrained himself. He opted to move closer to you, just took a couple of steps forward and he was already able to breathe in the scent of your perfume. His nostrils were pleasantly assaulted by the sweet scent emanating from your skin and hair. It was special, a blend of jasmine, vanilla and a hint of sea water. It was like nothing he had ever smelled before and he was sure that your scent would linger in his memory for a long time.

"It is still your life." He spoke behind your back and you turned to look at him. He seemed much bigger now that he was closer to you. His figure towered over you imposingly, yet his eyes were soft. "You can always take back your control over it." Your lips curved upward slightly and Geralt thought the smile suited you much better than the grimace of sadness.

You appreciated his effort to improve your mood. He was a complete stranger who had no reason to listen to your complaints about a life that many considered privileged. And though his words were simple, they accomplished their purpose. You felt so helpless and trapped that you were unable to see that things didn't end there. Yes, you were forced to marry someone you did not love for the sake of your kingdom, but that was not the same as giving up your life, your control and power over it. There was still hope.

"Thank you..." you trailed off, realizing at that moment that you had opened yourself so sincerely to a man whose name you didn't even know.

But before he could introduce himself, a voice in the distance interrupted you, answering for him.

"Geralt! There you are! I have been looking everywhere for you. You are supposed to protect me, you know."

Geralt let out an irritated sigh as the man you recognized as one of the many musicians hired by your parents to play at the banquet approached you. You had to stifle a chuckle as you realized that rather than escaping the noise of the party, he had come there to get a break from his friend's vibrant and cheerful personality. They were an odd pair, but you had no doubt that there had to be trust between them from the way the bard addresses him.

“I’ve been doing the impossible to hide from Lord Kaius for ages! What the hell were you doing out her–” The artist's complaints were cut short when his eyes finally rested on your figure. "Your highness." He gave a subtle bow, the tone of his voice changing to a lower, more subtle one from one second to the next.

"I'm afraid it's my fault. I was preoccupying your friend with the problems that afflict my mind on this fine evening and he was too kind to interrupt me. He was a great help, but you can take him back now. You clearly need him more than I do."

"Won't you come inside, your highness? You wouldn't want to miss your own party." The bard asked and you smiled at him.

"In a moment. I'd like to enjoy the peace and fresh air for a while longer."

Geralt didn't know why, but his eyes kept searching for you in the crowd of people dancing and eating like there was no tomorrow. After Jaskier dragged him back to the banquet hall —and after saving him from the fury of the man whose daughter had lost her innocence in the hands of the bard—, he kept his eyes on the big dark wooden doors, waiting to see you enter. But the minutes passed and there was no sign of you anywhere. He hadn't seen you come through the door and he couldn't find you in the crowd of people or see you at the royal table sitting next to your parents. You had disappeared and some people were beginning to notice.

For a moment, Geralt wondered if perhaps his words had encouraged certain behaviors in you. Maybe your way of taking control of your life was to run away from there, leaving your parents, your suitors and your responsibilities behind and start from scratch. He was wondering if perhaps he should go out to look for you, when his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden entrance of a man running towards the king and queen waving a paper in his raised right hand.

"The princess has been kidnapped." He announced loudly, causing the entire room to fall into a deep silence.

The musicians stopped playing, the people dancing stood motionless in the middle of the room and the queen almost fainted at that very moment. There was a collective sigh and then nothing. Pure silence while the king read the note that had been left behind by the bandits, establishing a payment for the recovery of the princess.

However, the silence did not last long. It was a room full of princes, knights and lords who were there to win the heart of the princess —or at least, the political interest of her parents— so chaos was bound to break out at a time like that. Lord Einar, the one who had found the note in the courtyard, was the first to offer his services to save the princess. His bravery set off a chain reaction of man after man appearing before the king to justify why they were the best suited for the task and not their competitors. And as they fought among themselves, Geralt decided to take matters into his own hands.

He finally felt comfortable as he inspected the courtyard and its surroundings for some sort of clue as to your whereabouts. For the first time since he had arrived at the castle he felt as if he actually had something to do there. Banquets and politics weren't his thing, but tracking down and hunting evil was. And while his area of expertise was monsters, he was willing to make an exception —anything to find an excuse to get him out of the political mess unfolding in the banquet hall.

His senses enhanced by the mutation allowed Geralt to follow the path that your scent had left in the air. He only had to take a couple of deep breaths and he immediately caught the fragrance of jasmine and vanilla that he had smelled on your skin. It stood out above any other scent near him, almost as if he had you in front of him once again. All he had to do was follow it to the outskirts of the castle, where his tracking skills allowed him to form a clearer picture of the situation.

They were heading north, away from the ocean and into the forest. The four pairs of footprints in the dirt indicated the presence of three heavy men who were accompanied by a fourth subject that was not so pleased to be there. The footprints were more shallow and imperfect. They belonged to a person of smaller build who was being dragged by those men. Geralt found no blood on the path, so he felt optimistic. You were conscious and had no serious wounds that would leave traces of your blood on the road, so there was a high chance that he would arrive in time to save you.

Following the path became a little more complicated the deeper he went into the woods, but fortunately for him the vegetation was not so lush and the bandits had not hidden very far away. Soon he was able to hear their angry mutterings in the distance. The night wind carried your sobs with it and Geralt followed them as if it were a map straight to your whereabouts.

You were being held captive in what appeared to be abandoned land. There was a dirty old shack and behind it, in the distance, Geralt could make out a barn that he had no doubt was in the same condition. A dim light was escaping through the half-open wooden door, so he knew that was where he had to go.

Two of the bandits scattered around the property to control the perimeter while one remained inside with you. Geralt was able to slip past them unseen with ease. Clearly, they were not men of great intellect and wisdom. Only a fool would kidnap a princess on the one night she was surrounded by strong and capable noble knights looking to prove themselves to her. Although glancing around, he was the only one there, so perhaps the bandits had a point.

Geralt was very careful with his movements, seeking to stay in the shadows as long as possible to assess the situation. He knew he could take out those men without breaking a sweat, even if they attacked him all three at once. But he had to consider that you were in the middle and any mistake he made could end badly for you. So he took his time, stealing a glimpse of the barn through the cracked door. His vision was limited by the odd angle from which he was forced to observe the scene, as well as the dim light that illuminated the room. Geralt was considering going in with his sword held high and end it all, when a sudden movement forced him to retreat so as not to be found.

Still, he got to see the way the man was mistreating you, pushing you violently against a pile of hay while you cried and begged for your life. And he got to hear the string of degenerate words he spat at you, enjoying the fear in your voice as you struggled to keep your distance from him. It made Geralt angry. Very angry.

The next sequence of actions happened so quickly that it was hard for you to process it. Although, to be honest, your mind wasn't quite there either. A part of you was completely missing, preparing to face the worst. When your captor lunged at you, effectively imprisoning you against the hay and almost completely restricting your movements, your mind transported you to another place. You could still hear his voice in the distance, smell his unpleasant odor and feel his weight on your body, but it all felt distant, muffled by the sounds of the ocean waves crashing against the rocks and the smell of salt water. Your body was still struggling to break free and tears were still streaming down your cheeks, but your mind was preparing to face the horror you knew was coming.

"You can cry all you want, no one is coming to save you." The man clicked his tongue, an evil smile forming on his lips. "A castle full of people and not a single man in sight, what a shame! But don't worry, princess, the time has come for you to know what a real man is." He moved his hands to the buttons of his pants, his leering gaze roaming over your body. You felt like screaming, crying and vomiting all at the same time, but you remained immobile, not knowing how to react. You simply closed your eyes, concentrating on the images of the sea you loved so much, waiting for the moment to pass.

But instead of feeling the weight of your captor's body on you again, you felt the splatter of warm liquid on your skin. Droplets rolled down your cheeks, mixing with your tears, and streams fell on your clothes. When you opened your eyes you found the sharp point of a sword poking out of your captor's pierced stomach. It was his blood that drenched your body, his blood that stained your clothes. It poured down on you from the wound in his stomach and from the cut in his throat that prevented him from producing more than broken cries as he drowned in his own blood.

It took you a few seconds to understand what was happening. Your confused mind, on high alert for new dangers, was not able to comprehend that the death of your captor was something positive for you. You only saw blood in quantities you had never seen before and could not help but scream as you watched in horror as the sword disappeared inside the bandit's body —splashing a few more drops of blood on its way out.

In the blink of an eye, the dying body of your captor was removed from above you and was replaced by a hand that pressed over your mouth to silence you. You struggled against it, your own hands snapping out of their state of shock to clutch at the arm of the new danger in an attempt to separate it from you. But then your eyes focused on the man leaning over you, the one who had saved you and who was desperately asking you to keep quiet.

A surge of calm ran through your body as you made contact with those golden eyes that intrigued you so much. You knew then that you were no longer in danger for Geralt had come to your rescue. Your heart was still beating almost inhumanly fast, pumping adrenaline throughout your body, and your breathing was still rapid, but you were able to calm your whimpers of protest under his hand. You stopped fighting him, trusting that you would be safe under his care.

"There are more-" You tried to warn him as he removed his hand from your mouth, but Geralt shushed you.

"I know, they're outside. That's why I need you to stay quiet and hide while I deal with them. Can you do that, your highness?" You nodded slowly, letting Geralt lead you to the back of the barn. He settled you behind a pile of hay that was large enough to hide your crouched figure, asking you to stay there until he came back for you, no matter what you heard outside.

"Wait! Don't leave me!" you panicked as he took a step away from you. Your hand flew to his arm, clinging to his clothes in an attempt to keep him from leaving. You knew what he had to do, but the thought of being alone again terrified you.

"Everything will be fine." Geralt tried to calm you, his voice a soft whisper. "I promise I will come back for you."

He gave you a moment before trying to leave once again, waiting for you to let go of his arm willingly rather than forcibly push you away. Geralt knew you were terrified and needed support, and he was more than willing to give it, but first he had to take care of the bandits that were still on the loose. And it would not be wise to fight them while you were present. It would only distress you further and put you in unnecessary danger. So, with a slight nod, he left you in the barn once more, disappearing into the night to finish what he had started.

You curled up in your place, listening to the distant sounds of the fight as you let another wave of tears roll down your cheeks. The smell of blood and dirt surrounded you. You were covered in it —in dirt, from being pushed back and forth around the place; in your captor's sweat, after he threw his body over yours; and in his blood, thanks to Geralt's fierce but effective attack. It made you want to vomit. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in, and your mind was slowly beginning to understand the great danger you were in and how lucky you were that Geralt showed up when he did.

“Princess?”

His voice brought you back to reality. He was kneeling beside you, looking at you with concern in those beautiful yellow eyes. The skin on his face was stained with a few drops of blood, as you imagined yours to be, but that did not lessen the softness of his expression. You threw yourself into his arms without a second thought, hiding your face in his neck as you sobbed in relief to know that the danger was over.

"It's okay, you're safe. I'm here, it's going to be okay." Geralt muttered against your hair, pulling you into his arms hoping that would be enough to help ease your nerves.

He held you against his body for as long as you needed him to, stroking your back with his hand in a slow, delicate way to inspire some sense of calm in you. He didn't move for a moment, not even when your sobs began to fade and your breathing became regular. No, Geralt waited for you to make the first move, breaking away from him when you were ready to do so.

"It's all right. You're fine. Just breathe with me. In...and out...in...and out. All right."

You let the soft but deep tone of his voice slowly wash away the paralyzing fear and nerves that plagued you. You focused on the warmth of his body and the way his arms wrapped around you, making you feel safe. You mimicked the rhythm of his breathing, letting him slowly guide you back to normal.

When you opened your eyes again the world around you was no longer spinning. Your vision was still a little blurry from the tears, but you could make out perfectly the yellow eyes, bright as the summer sun, watching you carefully.

"There you are!" Geralt gave you a small smile. "Did they hurt you?" You shook your head. Most of the blood on you at that moment wasn't yours, thankfully. Beyond a couple of bruises on your wrists from the bindings, and a split lip from a slap, you weren't injured. Your head hurt and you had twisted your ankle in an attempt to escape but it was nothing you couldn't handle.

"Who were they?" You asked in a shaky voice as you tried to stand up. You winced in pain as you put weight on your injured foot, but Geralt caught you in his arms before you lost your balance.

"Trust me, you're not going to like the answer to that."

A collective sigh was heard as you and Geralt entered the war room, where the king and queen were coordinating a rescue party with some soldiers and half of the suitors present at the banquet. It was a sigh of surprise rather than relief. It was clear that no one expected to see you there, much less with the disheveled appearance you had.

Your mother was the first to react, running up to you with tears in her eyes. Although she couldn't bring herself to hug you, the blood that stained your ball gown was still fresh, so she settled for holding your cheeks in her hands while repeating over and over again how happy she was that you were safe. Your father reacted by sending the guards to arrest Geralt as his worried mind believed that the witcher somehow had something to do with your kidnapping. You had to stand between them, taking your savior's hand in yours to make your position clear.

"What you imply is ridiculous! He saved me, father. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him." you stated firmly, keeping your head held high and holding back tears in your eyes.

"He very well could still be behind all this. He's a witcher who wasn't officially invited to the festivities and conveniently vanished in the middle of the night without a word. No one can attest to him but that bard..."

"No offense, your majesty, but I just felt as though the situation was not being treated with the necessary urgency." Geralt interjected, speaking in a calm and slightly defiant tone. "I knew for a fact that she couldn't be far away and that time was of the essence, but everyone at that feast seemed more interested in proving themselves worthy of glory and respect than saving your daughter's life. I just did what had to be done."

"How dare you speak that way about these noble men, witcher! Any one of them would be more than willing to give his life for my daughter!"

"He is right, father. If you want to find a culprit, you should direct your gaze to Lord Einar."

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. But his gaze was focused on you, staring at you with a fury you didn't know if the others were able to detect. He took a step forward and you tightened your grip on Geralt's hand, instinctively seeking his support. He stuck to your side, silently letting you know that he was ready to come between him and you if necessary —though he seriously doubted that Einar would be stupid enough to try to hurt you in front of the king.

"This is absurd!" Lord Einar complained with exaggerated outrage. "I will not allow myself to be disrespected in this way! I was invited to this feast to formalize my interest in the princess, which is greater than that of anyone in this room, if I may add. Have you forgotten that it was I who noticed the princess's strange disappearance? If I had not gone out to look for her, perhaps the news of her disappearance would have come too late. And may I remind you, your majesty, that it was I who first offered my services to bring her back safe and sound."

"That was the plan, wasn't it?" Geralt spoke through gritted teeth. "To pay some coins to a bunch of desperate bastards to take her so that you could rescue her and thus win her and the king's heart."

"I will not allow this... thing to disrespect me like this!"

"Your scent was on their clothes. Your name was the last thing they uttered before I slit their throats. You knew you didn't stand a chance with her, so you found a way to force your name to the top of the list."

Intimidated by Geralt's cold, hard stare, Lord Einar turned to look at the king. "These are nothing more than baseless accusations made by someone who clearly wants to distract us from his own guilt and involvement." he said, keeping his head held high as he lied through his teeth. "I beg you, my king, to consider punishment for this insolent witcher."

"Is this proof enough for you?" you snapped, tossing an object on the table.

After the bandits were dead, Geralt had searched their bodies for some kind of proof that their words were true. That's how he had found a ring in the pocket of one of them that clearly didn't belong to them. It was made of a fine metal and in the center, engraved in gold, was the seal of a noble family: the Blakesley family.

The ring rolled against the dark wood, exposing Lord Einar's lies with each flick of the ring before the gaze of all present. There was nothing he could say to avoid the punishment that was coming, so when your father gave the order and the guards took him by force, he decided to take his rage out on you. His voice echoed through the corridors as he was escorted to the dungeon, shouting a string of insults at you. He questioned your honor and your ability as a ruler, claiming that he only wanted to marry you to ensure that the kingdom would not perish when your father died.

Those were nothing more than the words of an unstable man who was filled with spite, angered by your rejection. You knew it meant nothing, but you still couldn't help but feel humiliated as he shouted all those things in front of so many people. Your eyes filled with tears and you clung to Geralt almost instinctively, hiding your face in his neck so no one would see you cry. He wrapped his arms around you, ignoring the very unfriendly looks that several of the men in the room gave him.

Your mother ordered the room to be emptied, realizing that the crowd was doing nothing to help your condition. The last thing you needed at that moment was to feel watched and judged by a bunch of people, so she personally closed the doors behind the last guard to leave the room.

"You should take a long bath, my love. I'll send someone to prepare the tub and clean clothes for you. That will certainly make you feel better." Your mother spoke in a soft voice, placing a hand on your back. "And you, witcher, are more than welcome to stay tonight. I'll have a room prepared for you and bring you some clean clothes. We can talk more in the morning."

You gave your mother a smile as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, trying to convince her that you were fine. She knew you weren't, but she also knew you well enough not to push you at that moment. So she left the room without adding anything else, leaving you alone with Geralt once again.

"Thank you... for everything." Your voice broke the silence, your eyes traveling from the door to Geralt's face. "I just realized I didn't thank you yet."

"You don't have to." He didn't need to hear it from your mouth, he could see in your eyes how grateful you were. Your expression hadn't changed much since he had found you, even though you tried hard to hide it, there were still traces of fear and distress in your eyes.

"Of course I have to! You have saved me from a terrible fate, not only at the hands of those bandits, but also at the hands of that... man." There were other words with which you would have liked to describe him, but you decided it was not appropriate for you to utter them. He didn't even deserve that from you. "I'm glad you were dragged here... I don't know what would have become of me without you tonight, Geralt."

The room fell silent as you looked into each other's eyes. You lost yourself in the amber that surrounded his pupils —which seemed to be more dilated, although it could well be an effect of the light, you thought—, trying to discover the secrets hidden in his eyes. Geralt was not easy to read, no matter how hard you tried, you had no idea of the things that could be going through his head at that moment. And yet, there was something in his eyes that calmed you. When he looked back at you, there was a softness in them that invited you to continue to admire them forever. It was a connection unlike anything you had ever felt before. It piqued your curiosity and some other things you didn't quite know how to explain.

Your hand was still intertwined with Geralt's and you weren't entirely sure for how long. Although you weren't complaining, you found the warmth of his skin against yours extremely comforting. It made you feel less alone, less vulnerable. You trusted him with your life, you knew that as long as he was around nothing bad could happen to you. And boy did you need that at that moment. You were still quite affected by everything that had happened and the idea of being alone terrified you. You needed company, but not just anyone. You needed his company.

"Would you mind escorting me to my chambers?" you broke the silence, clearing your throat to make sure your voice sounded firm. "My foot still hurts a little and I wouldn't want to fall down the stairs."

It was a foolish excuse. You knew it. Geralt knew it. The twisted foot you got while struggling with your captors was not a cause for concern. It hurt a little, yes, but you could still walk normally. All you wanted was an excuse not to be separated from Geralt and luckily for you, he played along. He allowed you to take his arm for stability and walked with you to your quarters. You appreciated his proximity, enjoying the feel of his body pressed against yours as his warmth enveloped you. But unfortunately it only seemed to aggravate his absence when he pulled away from you, willing to leave you alone so you could rest.

Your hand closed around his arm almost as an unwilling reflex. Your body craved his closeness. Your mind needed his company to be at ease. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't let Geralt leave. Not tonight at least. His eyes lingered on your hand, admiring how small it appeared when compared to his arm, before he looked up into your eyes, searching your expression for an explanation.

"Stay, please." Your voice was almost a whisper. Your eyes had trouble making eye contact with him for the first time since you had met. Geralt knew then that you were embarrassed of uttering those words. "I need you. I... I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Are you sure?" He said after a few seconds of silence, his expression firm but gentle. You nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes as you released his arm from your grip. Geralt sighed and finally crossed the threshold of the door, closing it behind him.

Geralt allowed you to guide him across the room to a door that hid a large private bathtub on the other side. It was already filled with water and salts, ready for you to use it. Everything smelled of you, of that delicious combination of jasmine and vanilla that Geralt found so special. It was intoxicating, like he was breathing in your scent straight from the source.

"Would you mind helping me with the lace?" Your voice brought him back to reality. Geralt watched as you turned around, gathering your hair over one of your shoulders to expose your back to him so he could unfasten your dress. He knew it was inappropriate and that he was probably breaking some rule —not to mention, taking advantage of the king's hospitality—, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Not when you were offering yourself to him like that.

Geralt's hands caressed your back first, his fingers slowly tracing a path from your shoulders to where the lacing of your dress ended. You closed your eyes, holding your breath as you felt him slowly loosen your dress. You could feel his imposing figure towering over you. He was so close that you could hear his breathing and feel the heat radiating from his body. You liked the proximity, probably more than you should.

When Geralt finished his work and your dress began to slide down your shoulders, you knew you should have been embarrassed. You were used to being naked in front of servants, but they were always women you trusted, handmaidens who had taken care of you since you were little and helped you dress or bathe. You had never been so exposed in front of a man before and you should definitely feel ashamed, but you were not. You simply let the dress fall to your feet and stepped into the tub as if there was no man present.

The water was warm and the tub was deep enough to hide your modesty if you sat in the right position. The dim candlelight also helped, though ultimately you really didn't mind feeling Geralt's gaze on your body.

"Join me, please. The water's nice and there's room enough for both of us."

Your curious eyes unashamedly traced the muscles of his arms and torso as he revealed himself to you. You noticed the scars that marked his skin, some smaller and some larger, and you couldn't help but wonder what the stories behind them were. Geralt was an exceptional man, unlike anyone you had ever met in your life. He was so rigid and reserved, and yet he had shown nothing but kindness and gentleness in your presence. He was a mystery and you wanted nothing more than to discover what he hid behind those beautiful amber eyes.

Out of respect —and some embarrassment—, you looked away as his hands undid the buttons of his pants. You focused your attention on the jasmine petals floating in the water, feeling your cheeks grow warm as a small voice in your head encouraged you to look up.

Geralt settled next to you in the tub, avoiding being too close or sitting in front of you so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable or self-conscious in his presence. However, you needed his closeness, so you shortened the distance as much as you could, pressing your arm against his. When he didn't complain, you went a step further and rested your head on his shoulder. Geralt stood still for a moment, debating once again whether his actions were appropriate, but in the end he relaxed.

He put his arm around your shoulders, effectively pulling you closer to him. A smile formed on your lips as you adjusted yourself in the new position, hiding your face in his neck. Geralt's fingers traced soft lines on the skin of your arm, a caress that both relaxed and excited you. That kind of intimacy was something new to you. Feeling his naked skin against yours, inhaling that musky scent mixed with something you couldn't describe as anything but his own essence, feeling the soft caresses of his calloused fingers, everything made you feel a certain way inside. You didn't have the exact words to describe it. It was like a flame, a warmth spreading through you that was both comforting and exciting. Ultimately, you didn't care about being able to put a name to what you felt. You just wanted to stay close to Geralt for as long as you were allowed.

Without even realizing it, your hand traveled up to his chest, your curious fingers tracing the jagged lines that marked his skin. You used the scars as a map to his body, letting them guide your path as you explored his chest with your touch. And as your fingers moved, you imagined the heroic stories behind each one, wondering what kind of monsters had inflicted them and if there were any that were human-made.

"I wonder how many princesses you've saved to end up like this." You broke the silence, your voice soft as you got lost in thought. It was mostly a joke, but there was some genuine curiosity hidden in it.

"Surprisingly, less than you're probably imagining."

You didn't quite know why, but hearing Geralt say that put a smile on your lips. It made you feel special, in a way. He hadn't been hired to save you —technically he hadn't even been invited to the party—, he had no obligation to you or your family, and yet he had risked his life to help you. There was something in you that awakened in him his noblest instincts.

"I'm sure that's what you tell everyone." You laughed, looking up at him from your position on his shoulder. You could admire his profile, his sharp jawline and the way his lips curved upward slightly as he let out a huff.

"Often delicate young women like you find my methods to be too... grotesque. They don't see me as being much different from the monsters I kill." Geralt spoke honestly, remembering the horrified expressions on the faces of the maidens he had sought to save from danger in his past, when he had little experience as a witcher. He was young and naive at the time and believed he could use his skills for more than just hunting monsters. After all, evil came in all shapes and sizes, even in humans. It didn't take him long to understand that humans didn't see a knight of noble spirit when he intervened in such situations, only a mutant designed to kill.

You noticed his thoughtful expression, his eyes looking straight ahead as if his mind was transporting him to another place. You wondered what kind of memories he might have swirling around in his head at that moment, outraged to think that someone could treat him badly after he saved their life. You admitted that he had quite an imposing figure and that his expression wasn't very friendly most of the time, but you still couldn't understand how anyone could be afraid of him. Even before he saved you —when he was just a stranger who took the time to listen to your problems— you saw nothing threatening in him. His beautiful yellow eyes inspired nothing but trust in you from the first moment you made contact with them.

“Then they were all fools." You sat up straight, one hand resting on Geralt's cheek to force him to look at you. "I don't understand how anyone could look at you and see danger in you. Even covered in blood, all I see is... safety and comfort." You gave him a small smile as your finger carefully wiped a small spot of blood from his cheek.

"Or maybe you're being naively nice."

Geralt took a cloth that rested on the edge of the tub and dipped it in the warm water. Then one of his hands cupped your chin, tilting your face slightly so he could get a better look at you in the candlelight. The flames danced in the air, creating shadows on your delicate skin. But even in the dim light he could still see the splashes of blood that stained your beautiful face. They made such a contrast that it was impossible to ignore them. The implication of such a violent act had no place on the delicate face of a princess like you. He hated to see the scratch on your lip, the dirt on your cheeks, the dried blood on your skin. You should not have been subjected to such horrors and he wanted to do everything in his power to erase the evidence from your body. So Geralt took the trouble to wipe the blood away, carefully running the wet cloth over your skin until it was all gone.

You remained silent as he worked on you, completely immobile while you watched him closely. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, but his expression was gentle. His hands moved delicately over your skin, as if he was afraid of breaking you if he wasn't careful. You could barely feel the cloth brushing against your cheek from how slow and gentle Geralt was being. But his fingers... his fingers were another story.

They were warm against your skin, caressing every little spot the cloth passed through to soothe any possible irritation the fabric might arouse. They awakened a tingling sensation as they traveled down your face. When they reached your neck, you knew that Geralt could feel the accelerated pulsing of your heart against his fingertips. It was impossible that he couldn't when you could hear the beating in your ears yourself. His hands felt so big against your neck. If he wanted to hurt you, he could probably do it with just one hand. That should have scared you, considering he was a man you barely knew, but it didn't. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you, not when he caressed the sensitive skin of your neck and collarbones with such gentleness.

"Maybe I'm naive," you broke the silence, your voice barely more audible than a whisper. "But I honestly don't think a mutant designed to kill, as you say, would go to the trouble of caring for me the way you are doing."

Geralt's eyes looked up at you, that intriguing yellow you loved so much capturing you in a transe. They were calling you, daring you to dive into the ocean of honey and mystery that was his gaze. And you obeyed without the slightest resistance, letting your heart take the reins of your body. You leaned towards him, slowly. His hands were still on your neck, but he didn't use them to stop you. On the contrary, he leaned towards you too and when your lips finally collided, he used his grip on your jaw to deepen the kiss.

The kiss started slow, a quick brush of your lips as you finally let yourselves indulge in your deepest desires. But as you became more comfortable in each other's arms, the kiss intensified. You let Geralt guide you, knowing that he would undoubtedly have more experience than you. You surrendered to his lips and the caresses of his tongue, giving yourself to him completely as you struggled to keep up with him.

That wasn't your first kiss, however, it was the first kiss that felt like this, so... intense, passionate. You barely remembered the boy who had given you your first kiss, but you knew you would remember Geralt for the rest of your life. You didn't know how he did it, but the simple touch of his lips and the strokes of his fingers on your skin turned you to mush between his hands. You had never felt anything like it before and you didn't want to stop. But despite your protests, Geralt suddenly pulled away from you.

"What are you doing?" He didn't sound annoyed or confused, more concerned.

"I'm taking control of my life." You leaned into him once more and Geralt accepted your kiss, his desperate lips demonstrating his true intentions. He let his desires consume him for a moment before regaining control over his body and pulling away from you again.

"Are you sure?" It wasn't that he wanted to stop, but the voice of morality in the back of his mind compelled him to make sure you wanted the same. He needed to know that he wasn't taking advantage of you, that you weren't throwing yourself into his arms as a result of your vulnerable state after the attack.

"For as long as I can remember, I have always dreamed of meeting a noble prince who would protect me from danger. We would fall in love and live a long and happy life together after our marriage. Now I know that is impossible. I cannot choose who I marry. I cannot choose to marry for love. There's nothing I can do to change it, that's just the way things work." You paused, your hands reaching for Geralt's to entwine your fingers. "But I can still choose who to give myself to, body and soul, for the first time... and you're the closest thing I have to that fantasy."

There was a sadness in your eyes that made Geralt feel bad for you. He didn't know you very well, but he knew you deserved better than a future you didn't want. The inability to choose your own path in life was something that seemed to affect you greatly, and if he was able to bring you some peace he was willing to do so. But the tub full of dirty water was not the place for it, much less considering it would be your first experience of something like that.

"Speak freely." You said after a few seconds of unbearable silence. "If you don't want to be with me because you don't like me I'll understand. But please don't turn me down just because you think you're guarding my honor or something. I want this... I want you."

Those last words seemed to do the trick, because Geralt's lips joined yours once again. Only this time the kiss was different, much slower and more sensual, though just as desperate. His lips moved in time with yours, tongues intertwined in a sinful dance as Geralt allowed his hands to slowly explore your body. His fingers ignited flames on your skin in their path, pleasure and anticipation building inside you.

The water in the tub swirled violently as Geralt lifted you into his arms, moving you to sit on his lap as if you weighed nothing. You clung to his shoulders for support, feeling his fingers dig into the sensitive skin of your hips. But it didn't hurt, at least not in a bad way. It was a pleasant ache that made you feel alive. Just like his kisses, which trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin.

Geralt's kisses continued their way down and you couldn't help but buck your hips against his when his lips closed over your nipple. You pushed your chest into him instinctively, giving yourself to him as one of your hands got lost in his hair. Pure pleasure traveled through your veins as his tongue played with your breasts, giving attention to one before moving on to the other. He held you tightly against his body, one strong arm stretched across your back while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his growing erection.

You both moaned as your cunt made contact with his cock. The sensation you felt when the tip brushed against your little bundle of nerves was unlike anything you had ever felt before. The pleasure was much more intense, much more raw. You could feel it spreading through your body and into your bones. So, naturally, you sought it again, creating a rhythm that had you panting in no time.

You were forced to stop when Geralt suddenly stood up, carrying you in his arms. Your moan of pleasure turned into a cry of surprise, the water in the tub moving violently, flooding the room as he moved towards the exit. You clung to his shoulders, afraid of falling, as you asked him what he was doing.

"We can't do it here. It has to be done properly, in a bed where you’ll be comfortable, and not in a bathtub full of filthy water."

You couldn't help but smile to yourself as you understood the meaning of his words. Once again, Geralt was looking after you, worrying about you and your well-being more than any other man in your life had ever done. He wanted to make things right, to make sure that your first sexual encounter was a positive experience. And while he wasn't exactly the man you had imagined doing it with, he was quite close to it. Every thing he said, every gesture he made to you, made you feel more confident in your decision.

Geralt carefully laid you down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable before continuing his assault on your body. He kissed you again and, as you let his tongue explore your mouth, you couldn't help but think how much bigger he felt now that he was leaning over you. He had one arm on either side of your head, holding himself up so he wouldn't crush you with his weight. One of his toned legs rested in between yours, keeping you open and exposed to him. You were essentially trapped under his body, completely at his mercy, and you liked it.

The pleasure building up inside you was starting to feel too overwhelming. As much as you enjoyed Geralt's wet kisses, you needed more. You needed relief. So you pushed your hips into him once more, seeking that intoxicating pleasure you'd felt in the bathtub. Your wet pussy slid easily up his thigh and a wave of pleasure coursed through your body.

"Fuck!" Geralt moaned as he felt your wetness trickling down his leg. You looked so sensual moving your hips against him with adoring desperation, struggling to find some relief. The little moans that fell from your lips in between ragged breaths drove him crazy, making it difficult for him to control his instincts. He had to be gentle with you, it was your first time and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't pin you down and fuck you until your legs shook.

"Tell me, princess, have you ever touched yourself?" Geralt spoke against your skin as his lips continued their path of wet kisses down your body. "Perhaps when you were alone at night, hidden in the darkness of your chambers."

It took you a few seconds to process Geralt's words, your mind distracted with the way his kisses slowly trailed down your chest, barely pausing on your breasts before continuing to travel down. It made your body tremble with anticipation, wondering what he was up to. He was watching you from his position on your abdomen, lips barely pulling away from your skin so he could observe your face more comfortably, waiting for an answer. The color of his eyes had darkened, the yellow glowing like the flames of the candles that lit the room. There was hunger in them. Geralt was looking at you like a wolf at its prey. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, managing to answer him with a simple negative shake of your head.

"So you don't know what real pleasure feels like, huh?" You weren't sure if it was a question for you, but you shook your head again anyway. You felt Geralt's lips curving into a smile against the sensitive skin of your lower belly and a shiver ran down your spine when you heard his next words. "I'm going to change that."

Despite the firmness in his voice, Geralt was slow and gentle with each movement he made next. He was careful to position himself between your legs, pushing them open and revealing your most secret part to his hungry gaze. He noticed almost immediately the way you tensed with embarrassment, feeling vulnerable, so he was quick to spread sweet kisses on your right thigh, while gently caressing the skin of your left. He could smell the scent of your arousal with every breath he took. It was intoxicating, the sweet nectar he had been waiting to taste all this time. But first he had to make sure you were comfortable. He was there to pleasure you, nothing mattered if you didn't enjoy it.

"It's okay, my sweet. You don't have to be ashamed, you're beautiful." He spoke against your skin, his voice a raspy, sensual, whisper. "I have to get you ready for my cock, all right? This will feel so good, I promise. But if it doesn't, I want you to tell me, can you do that?" You nodded, but that wasn't enough for him. "I need you to use your words."

"Yes, Geralt, I will."

"Good."

Geralt gave you a few seconds to relax before diving into your cunt, spreading wet kisses down your inner thighs as he got closer and closer to the place where you needed him most. When his tongue finally made contact with the sweet nectar trickling down your folds, he let out a sound that vibrated in his chest with force. All hint of self-control disappeared then, buried under the primal desire that the taste of your arousal awakened in him.

He ate you like a starving man, his tongue exploring your most intimate place with expert skill. Your hips jolted as his lips closed over your small bundle of nerves, your whole body convulsing as you felt pleasure like you had never felt before. It was so intense it was almost too much. It scared you in a way, as it felt like your own body didn't respond to you —like it didn't belong to you. It belonged to Geralt now, and only responded to the stimulation he gave your body. You were torn between the need to pull away from his entrancing lips —which were no doubt uttering some spell to claim ownership of your innocence— and your body's carnal desire to surrender to his clever tricks in order to continue to feel such pure pleasure.

"Does it feel good, princess?" Geralt spoke between your legs, his warm breath crashing against your pussy and sending shivers down your spine.

"Yes! So good... please don't stop." You didn't recognize your own voice as you spoke. It sounded raspy from all the moaning, and there was a hint of desperation you'd never heard in yourself before. It wasn't the first time you had begged someone for something you wanted, but it was the first time you actually meant it.

"I won't, I promise. I'm here to make you feel good." Geralt assured between slow, long licks, focusing his attention on your clit before continuing. "But if you're going to take my cock, I'll need to stretch your tight hole." You tensed again and once more he used his strategy of stroking and kissing your thighs to calm you down. You knew that penetration was an important part of the whole thing and you were ready to face it, but still, the unknown scared you a little. "I'm going to insert a finger inside you, is that all right my sweet? It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise it will feel great afterwards. But first I have to know that you still want this."

"Yes, Geralt, I want this. I trust you, please." You gave him a shy smile, looking at him with complete admiration. He saw the desire in your eyes, mixed with anticipation and a hint of fear. But you were confident in your decision, so he continued.

"Relax, I'm going to take care of you." He murmured against your skin, his kisses slowly moving closer to your wet cunt. "Just focus on the pleasure."

Geralt's voice echoed in your mind, your body obeying his commands as if he had cast a spell over you that left you with no other choice. You focused on the fire burning inside you, on the skillful way he flicked his tongue against your abused bundle of nerves and on the knot in your stomach that tightened with each passing second. You tried not to tense up as you felt Geralt's finger press against your entrance, biting your lip and taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. His tongue was doing a good job of distracting you, but you could still feel the slightly painful drag of his finger inside you.

"You're doing so well for me." Geralt complimented you, keeping his finger still inside you to give you time to get used to the new sensation. You couldn't hide how much it pleased you to hear those words, because your walls clenched around his finger, revealing your deepest desires. Geralt grunted against your pussy, fantasizing about how good your tight hole would feel around his cock.

It took you a moment to get used to the strange sensation of his intrusion. It wasn't painful exactly, mostly uncomfortable since your walls weren't used to stretching like that. But eventually the discomfort faded into pleasure, bringing new sensations as he slowly began to move his finger inside you.

Your moans became uncontrollable, increasing in volume with each of Geralt's caresses. If you weren't so wrapped up in your own pleasure, you would have worried about the possibility of being overheard by some servant or guard walking down the corridor. You knew it might potentially ruin your reputation, but you couldn't focus on anything other than the way Geralt's long, thick finger stretched you, making you feel full in the most pleasurable way possible.

"Geralt I-" You tried to speak, but the air caught in your throat as you felt the knot in your stomach becoming incredibly tight, threatening to snap.

"I know, my sweet, I know." Geralt interrupted you as he noticed your trouble forming coherent sentences. He could sense you were getting close to relief in the way your walls tightened around his finger, your juices dripping down your legs and soaking his hand. "Just let yourself go. I've got you."

Geralt added another finger inside you, stretching your walls even further. He was careful, his movements slow and precise as he both prepared you for his cock and brought you closer to the edge. His mouth focused on your clit, his lips closing around your sensitive pearl as his fingers explored your insides, reaching that spongy place deep inside you and rubbing it until your whole body shuddered with your orgasm.

It felt like your insides exploded, the tension that had been building in your core suddenly snapping as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body. Your mind went blank, eyes rolling back as Geralt did his best to hold back the violent spasms of your muscles.

And then your body fell limp on the sheets. You could barely hear the world around you over your racing heartbeat that throbbed in your ears. You knew Geralt was muttering things against your skin as he kissed his way back up, but your mind was too lost in the pleasure to make sense of his words. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, your body desperate for oxygen as it struggled to regain control.

"There you are!" Geralt gave you a soft smile as you opened your eyes, his face slowly coming into focus on your clouded vision. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine! That was..." you paused, searching for the words to describe it. Although explaining your feelings proved to be more difficult than you expected. You were convinced that there were no words in any language you knew to describe what he had made you feel. So you let out an airy laugh, hiding your face in his neck and spreading small kisses over his skin.

"Do you still want to go through with this?" Geralt asked you, pulling away from you a little so he could look into your eyes. You kissed him back, tasting the sweet flavor of your arousal on his tongue. It was strangely erotic for you to feel your own essence on him, like a mark that, though temporary, showed to whom his lips belonged. It sent a rush of desire and confidence through your body, igniting the fire inside you once more.

The pressure of his cock was nothing like his fingers. While the stretching sensation was not completely foreign to you, Geralt's cock was much longer and thicker than his fingers so it hurt a lot more when he began to push it into you. The mixture of your arousal and his saliva helped his member slide more easily through your walls, but you still couldn't hold back the whine of pain, which vibrated against Geralt's lips.

"It's all right... you're all right. Just a little more." He crooned as he rested his forehead against yours. His fingers caressed the skin of your hip, giving you comfort as you clung to his shoulders. "You're doing so good for me, my sweet." His voice was soft, but erratic, laced with the clear pleasure that sliding so torturously slow inside your tight walls brought him.

Geralt remained immobile once he bottomed out, spreading kisses all over your face and neck as he gave you time to adjust to his size. It was the hardest task he had ever had to do in his life. Facing any monster was easier than staying still when your warm, wet walls wrapped around him so well. He was desperate to move, pull out of you almost completely only to slam back in, thrusting his hips against yours as he pinned you against the bed. But it was your first time, so he had to be gentle with you. You weren't ready for that kind of rough loving, so Geralt pushed his dark desires aside and waited for you to give him the signal to move.

After a while, your moans of discomfort turned into whimpers of protest, not from pain, but from the growing fire inside you that wasn't being tended to. You experimentally moved your hips against Geralt's, just to see what it would feel like. It was a small movement, but it was enough to push his cock deeper inside you, sparking a pleasurable tingling sensation that spread throughout your body. So you did it again, moving with more confidence this time. And again, only this time, Geralt met you halfway, grinding his hips against yours.

Your walls tightened around his cock and the growl that escaped his lips was so deep and primal that it almost pushed you over the edge once more. Something about knowing that you were the cause of those moans, that your body, your pussy, your caresses, were responsible for such reactions was so arousing. Knowing that even though you were inexperienced you were able to elicit such pleasure in him made you feel more comfortable and confident. You were turning his world upside down as much as he was turning yours.

"You look so beautiful like this." Geralt said as he slightly increased the rhythm of his hips. "So small and fragile underneath me, eyes filled with lust as you try your best to take me in your tight hole."

You moaned into his mouth, desperately searching his lips for something to keep you grounded as pleasure took over your body and mind. Your cunt clenched at his words, finding the mix of softness and roughness in his action incredibly arousing. His hips moved against yours in a consistent and deep, yet slow and sensual rhythm. His calloused fingers roamed over your body, caressing you in such a subtle way that it gave you goosebumps. His filthy words perfectly balanced flattery and roughness, awakening feelings you didn't know you had. It was all a dangerous, overwhelming mix, slowly getting to you close to the edge.

"Does it feel good? Do you like feeling me deep inside you?" You could only moan incoherently in response, hiding your face in the crook of Geralt's neck as your nails dug into his back. "I like it too. You feel so good wrapped around me, my perfect princess."

"Yes, I'm yours! I'm all yours, please..." You begged, for what, you weren't sure. But that didn't really matter, you just wanted Geralt to do whatever he wanted with you. You knew there was no future in your relationship, but this was no time to think about tomorrow. At that moment you were giving yourself body and soul to him, allowing him permission to use and explore your body as he wished.

"Yes you are, but not just for tonight." Geralt moaned in your ear, his voice a deep hoarse whisper. He sucked a mark just below your earlobe, nibbling the sensitive area playfully before continuing to speak. "You will always remember this night and think of me when your future husband takes you to bed on your wedding night. He's not going to compare to me... to how good I'm making you feel. But that's fine, because at least you had a chance to know what it feels like to be adored like you truly deserve, my princess."

"Fuck, Geralt! I'm-" Your warning was interrupted by a moan as you felt him sink his teeth into the sensitive skin of your neck at the same time he pushed his member incredibly deep inside you.

"I know, I can feel you squeezing me so tight. It's alright, just let go for me, my sweet. I want to feel you as you come undone on my cock."

His hand traveled south, calloused fingers pressing against your abused bundle of nerves, drawing circles over it. The way your pussy clenched around his cock made it hard to focus, his own orgasm approaching with alarming speed. But he kept a steady rhythm, his hips moving in a slow, sensual way to make sure his cock brushed that special place inside you without causing you any pain.

"That's it, keep making those pretty notices for me. You're doing so good for me, my beautiful, perfect, princess. Just let go, I've got you. You're safe with me, just let go."

It was the softness in his husky voice that finally pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. Geralt's name was the last thing you uttered before the world around you disappeared behind the waves of pleasure. It was a pathetic whimper, a plea for mercy as you felt frightened by the sheer intensity of your orgasm. Geralt was sure he had never heard a more sensual melody. The way you had uttered his name just before the pleasure exploded inside you was something he was never going to forget.

"That's it, my sweet. You did such a good job for me." He complimented you, slowing down the rhythm of his hips to give you time to recover. "You're alright. I'm here, I've got you. Just breathe... that's it."

Geralt's voice helped you refocus on the real world, his sweet kisses slowly lifting the fog that clouded your mind. You could still feel him inside you, his cock throbbing desperate for relief. The shallow thrusts weren't enough and you needed to feel him falling apart inside you. You needed to know what it felt like to have a man —and especially him— come inside you. And you knew it was safe with him since witchers were incapable of fathering children as a result of their mutations.

"Geralt, please... I want to feel you." You managed to say between gasps, locking your legs around his hips to keep him in place, pressed inside you. He let out a deep growl as he understood the meaning behind your words, his eyes darkening with lust. You were definitely going to be the death of him.

"Of course, my sweet, how could I deny you anything?" He murmurs against your lips, slowly increasing the rhythm of his hips. "You want to feel my seed deep inside you, is that it? You want me to fill you up, leave a part of me inside you so you won't miss me so much when I'm gone?"

His words alone were enough to ignite that flame inside you again. Your body was tired, but still screamed for more. Geralt's thrusts became erratic with each passing second, desperate to reach his own relief. And in the search for his pleasure he was taking you with him to a new limit.

"I will give it to you, my princess. I will give you all of me. I could never deny you anything, my sweet, beautiful girl."

His sweet words contrasted with the harshness of his movements, hips crashing against yours in desperate thrusts. He was getting closer to his relief and he could feel in the way your cunt clenched around his cock that you were too. His thumb focused on your clit once more, one, two, three strokes accompanied by his thrusts and you were crying his name again. But he didn't get to enjoy much of the way you tightened around him, because he came seconds later, shooting his load deep inside you.

Geralt collapsed on top of you, his body crushing you against the bed as you both tried to catch your breath. But even though he was much bigger than you, it wasn't an uncomfortable position. The weight of his body felt comforting against yours. You liked the way he hid his face in your neck, breathing heavily against your sweaty skin. It gave you the opportunity to stroke his back and run your fingers through his hair. It felt intimate, in a completely different way than the sex you'd just had.

You whined in protest as he rolled to the side, feeling the mixture of your arousal and his sliding down your legs now that his cock had left you. It was a strange sensation to feel empty without him inside you. You didn't know such a feeling was possible, for you that used to be normal, the only way to feel. But now that you had had Geralt buried deep inside you, that you had felt his seed filling you to the brim, you would always be aware of that strange emptiness between your legs.

"How are you feeling?" you heard him say and you struggled to open your eyes, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. He was standing at the foot of the bed, a cloth in his hand, and you wondered when he had moved from your side without you noticing.

"Great! That was... great." You mumbled, still unable to find an adequate word to describe how good he had made you feel.

Geralt gave you a small smile before lowering his face to your legs, placing small kisses on your skin as he moved closer and closer to your center. "Open up for me, my princess. I need to clean you."

You reluctantly complied, feeling much more exposed and vulnerable now that the deed was done. However, he was gentle with you, moving carefully as he cleaned you so as not to irritate your sensitive, abused cunt. And when he was done, he kissed his way down your face, caressing your skin with his lips, culminating his journey in your mouth.

"What about you?" you tried to sound casual as you spoke, though you failed miserably. "Was it... good for you too?" You immediately regretted your choice of words, worrying that you had ruined the moment.

"I thought I had been quite clear if not with my words, with my actions at least." Geralt let out an airy laugh and you followed suit, feeling a little more relieved.

Then the room fell into silence. It wasn't an awkward or uncomfortable one, but a peaceful one. You got lost in Geralt's eyes, admiring the yellow glow that was much softer now, though just as captivating. The candlelight reflected in them in a special way, highlighting their unique beauty. You could stare at them for hours if it weren't for the tiredness that was slowly beginning to take hold of you.

You didn't realize you had closed your eyes until you felt Geralt move beside you. You stopped feeling the weight of his body on the bed, so you opened your eyes immediately. Your hand flew to his arm, fingers closing around his wrist. "Please don't go," you begged as you saw that he had sat up in bed. "I want you to stay with me tonight."

Geralt smiled, the corners of his lip curving slightly upward as he reached out with his free arm to grab the blanket that had been left forgotten at the foot of the bed. His eyes lowered to your hand and his expression turned hard as he noticed the ligature marks on your skin. He hated to know the horrible treatment that someone as delicate and beautiful as you had to go through at the hands of those bandits. Even though he had rescued you before something even worse happened to you, as he looked at the marks on your wrists he feared he had not been quick enough.

Noticing the change in his expression, your eyes followed Geralt's gaze with curiosity. You felt embarrassed when you realized what he was looking at with such intensity and released his grip on his arm, seeking to hide your injured wrist. But he didn't let you. Geralt intertwined his fingers with yours and brought your hand to his lips. His eyes didn't break contact with you as he scattered delicate kisses over the irritated area of your wrist, showing you that you had nothing to be ashamed of with him.

"I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to, my princess. I'm here to serve you tonight." Geralt said as he lay down next to you once again, covering you both with the blanket.

You took advantage of his words and his desire to please you by curling up against him, resting your head on his chest. Geralt wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you even tighter against his body as he let his fingers trace invisible patterns on your skin. It was extremely relaxing, his gentle touch and the warmth of his body enveloping you was exactly what your tired mind needed to rest. All the fear, the terrifying memories of your attackers and the feeling of danger completely disappeared as he held you in his arms.

"Good, because I feel safer when I'm in your arms." You mumbled as you closed your eyes, feeling sleep slowly overcome you.

It was hard to say goodbye to Geralt when the time came for him to leave. He had only stayed at the castle for a couple of days at your father's insistence, but that had been more than enough for you to grow fond of him. He was not a very talkative person, but that only made your conversations more interesting. He was intriguing, a closed book that only opened with the pronunciation of the right words. You had fun unraveling some of his history, hearing about his adventures and the monsters he had faced. He was definitely the most interesting man you had ever met - far more interesting and noble than most of the men who were competing for your hand in marriage. And now you had to see him go.

You always knew that your days were numbered, that Geralt would eventually leave and you would have to go back to reality. You thought you could do it, enjoy his company and the illusion of freedom you had created with him and then say goodbye as if nothing happened, but you would be lying if you said you weren't a little sad about his departure. Especially because you didn't know if you would ever see him again. Maybe on your wedding day, if you invited Jaskier to play at the festivities he would bring him as security again. Or perhaps, if the kingdom was haunted by some evil creature he would find his way back to you. But nothing was certain and that made you feel quite sad.

"I guess this is our goodbye." You watched Geralt settle his horse's saddle, tucking away his swords and clutching his bag as he prepared to leave. You tried to hide the grimace of sadness that wanted to form on your face, but the disappointment in your voice betrayed you. "I'll never see you again, will I?"

Geralt stopped what he was doing to look you in the eyes. You could have sworn you saw a glint of sadness in the golden fire of his irises, though it disappeared as he blinked. "It'll probably be a while, yeah." He sighed. "But nothing is set in stone. Maybe the search for a job will bring me back down these roads."

You smiled. Even moments before he left, he was still making an effort to make you feel good. "I'd like that." You took a couple of steps closer to him, taking his hand in yours to feel his skin against yours one last time. "The gates of this castle will always be open to you, Geralt of Rivia. And as long as I am alive, you will always find safe passage through these lands."

"Thank you, your highness. It is an honor." He bowed slightly even though he knew it was not necessary. Formalities had been forgotten between you since your night together. Then, he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips caressed your skin gently, planting a soft kiss of farewell. "Until we meet again."

You held back the urge you had to taste the flavor of his lips one last time, knowing that there were too many eyes around you that would deem such behavior inappropriate. And perhaps they were right, after all, a respectable maiden like you, in search of a husband to marry and rule with, could not be seen kissing anybody. You knew you would probably regret it for the rest of your life —especially if Geralt never stopped by again—, but it was the right thing to do. Your days of freedom were over, now you had to resume your responsibilities as a princess and that meant holding back the urge you had to run after Geralt, get on his horse and let him take you wherever he wanted. So you just watched him leave, seeing how his figure became smaller and smaller on the horizon while you wished with all your soul that fate would cross your path again.

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x fem reader #geralt of rivia smut #geralt x reader smut #the witcher x reader #the witcher x reader smut #geralt x reader #the witcher smut #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher netflix #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader

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bunny-yan · 1 year

Note

Love your yandere king so much ❤ But what if he kills his darling ?

TW:death, descriptions of death, violence, strangulation, content is not suitable for minors —

Strangled gasps echoed throughout the room, beating against the walls as your cries for help were silenced.

You supposed it didn’t matter even if you could manage to get someone’s attention. The king could order a maid to stand and watch as he tortured you endlessly and they would act as if it was another normal day. Stone faced they’d watch, no signs of registering your pleas unless the king allowed.

And the king didn’t allow much these days.

Constantly irritated and on edge if you weren’t plastered to his side, you knew you should’ve woken him up and told him that you were going to the bathroom, but you wanted a moment of peace. Of silence. A moment to yourself.

The punishment when you returned was his hands around your throat, squeezing as he leaned over your body and cursed you for trying to leave him, for attempting to escape.

It didn’t make sense.

You came back so you didn’t understand how he could accuse you of trying to escape. You could argue that maybe it was just his sleep deprived brain playing tricks on him. That the you inside his dreams was a bit more honest about how you felt and he was dragging that version of you to reality. The real you. The silenced you.

But it still didn’t make sense.

You’d gone to relieve yourself for crying out loud. In what world did it seem appropriate to reprimand a natural bodily function with violence? Of course, he was the king and he could punish you for simply looking at him the wrong way. There was no arguing for someone in your position.

You were tired of self-debating the injustice of it all.

You tried to apologize, knowing that it usually calmed him down. You would take the blame because it was your fault at the end of the day.

You set him off. If you had just remained by his side, this wouldn’t be happening right now. You knew he would get angry and you expected this to happen. What were you thinking? You could only blame yourself for the hands that were actively squeezing the life out of you. You struggled to get the two words, that seemed to live on your tongue, out.

I’m sorry.

He’d stop then. He’d still be angry, growl cruel words at you and shake you like a ragdoll, shake you so hard that it felt like your neck might snap off of your neck, but then he’d hold you close like the perfect lover, as if the monster that consumed him every waking moment never existed.

But you couldn’t make a sound.

Looking back and forth between his furious eyes, your mouth opened and closed but short breaths were the only thing that passed through your lips. Your hands wrapped around his wrists, begging him to loosen his painful hold but as if he sensed your squirming resistance he gripped you harder.

You felt as he crushed something in your throat and a sharp jolt of fear passed through your body at the thought that this was it.

You were going to die.

You could fight, struggle, but you knew it would only make him squeeze tighter, completely cutting off what little air you were allowed.

This is the end.

Strangely, the thought gave you peace. You couldn’t imagine how many times you’d woken up after dreaming about a simple life with someone you loved in a small village as far away from the kingdom as possible and felt the growing urge to cry. To bawl your eyes out as you lived each day in devastation, realizing that it was simply that. A dream. And a dream is all it would ever be.

Until now.

You finally got to escape. Escape the growing loneliness that seemed to burrow itself deeply inside of you, carving into you each day without remorse. Escape the callous remarks and repulsed stares, judging you for dwelling in a position you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemies. You would get to escape the king and his sweet, sick laughter and soft looks that’d morph into an erratic crazed obsession.

You would finally get to be with the people that were taken from you, the people you loved and would no longer have to miss dearly.

Finally.

When the king’s anger ebbed, he ripped his hands away from your neck, climbing off of you to go to the balcony. He hoped that the cool air would calm him down because he was still seeing red and being near you wasn’t helping the situation.

As he looked out on the silent night, he took a deep breath and pushed a frustrated hand through his hair.

You would be the death of him.

The king didn’t understand why he always got so angry when it came to you. It was never this difficult to control his anger, but he supposed with time his rage only grew.

From the minute he laid eyes on you, he knew the two of you were meant for each other. He kept you by his side in order to get your to realize that, but no matter how many hints he dropped or passes he made, you refused to understand. Those around you didn’t make it much better. He noticed the way some of your fellow servants touched you casually when it’d taken him months to touch you without you flinching away from his touch or tensing up.

You always reminded him of his position when he knew it better than anyone else.

The prince was as kind as he was benevolent. He was wise and patient to better understand and lead his citizens. And if another dared to lay claim on something he already acknowledged as his, the prince was going to lose his mind.

What good was all this power if it couldn’t give him what he wanted? He was raised with the knowledge that everything in the world was within his grasp.

And so he took.

He felt awful. Anyone would when faced with their lover’s crying face. You were supposed to be happy, but your aversion was simply because you didn’t understand.

And you didn’t seem to be the only one.

He’d heard the conversation you had with your father and it broke his heart to hear that you no longer wanted to serve as his companion. You begged, pleaded to be demoted to the position of a stable hand if you had to, but your father understood his position. He understood that it was an honor to serve the prince in a position that most other nobles your age could only hope to dream about and told you there was nothing he could do.

But he went to the king anyway. Asked him to reconsider the prince’s companion and place someone more suitable in the position.

He fumed, realizing that you weren’t the only one he would have to educate.

Your father was a nuisance that aided you in your foolishness. A nuisance that you’d helped him get rid of. You were despondent, but so docile and sweet once he got rid of the distractions in your relationship.

Or most of them.

He never imagined that his father would try to separate the two of you. The prince thought that he of all people would understand, but he wouldn’t muster his princely patience this time. He’d waited long enough to get you all to himself and nothing would stand in his way.

He was king now and he’d all but assured that no one would ever stand in the way of your relationship again. There was nothing to be afraid of anymore. No one would take you from him.

No one would take you away.

Pushing off of the balcony, he walked back inside, reasonably placated as he shut the doors to prevent a draft before climbing back into bed. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he was surprised when you didn’t flinch away. After one of his outbursts you had a tendency of trembling and angling your body away from him, but you laid still.

He smiled before pulling you closer.

It had to have been the most peaceful sleep he’d gotten in a while.

~*~

The king’s first thought when he woke up the next morning was that you were oddly cold. He looked to the door, frowning when he saw that it was closed. He’d made sure to close the balcony doors so why did your skin feel like ice?

“Good morning, my love.” he said, caressing the side of your face. He smiled, leaning over your body before slowly kissing your frigid lips.

You were silent.

Placing a hand on your shoulder, he shook you lightly. “Wake up, love. It’s time to start our day.”

You remained silent.

“My love?”

Looking at you, he slowly backed away when he noticed your body was unnaturally still. No fluttering eyelashes, no rise and fall of your chest, nothing.

He was stumbling towards the door yelling for someone to call a doctor before he even realized what his body was doing. Maids entered, hands covering their mouths at the sight of you and he was sure someone screamed, but he couldn’t hear anything past the static in his ears. He couldn’t see anything, but you.

It didn’t take long for the doctor to arrive. Rushing to your side as the king yelled at him to fix you, asking her what was wrong with you. He knew it couldn’t be anything good when the woman froze after touching your wrist, slowly turning before looking at him with those eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she began to say, but he was shaking his head.

“Get out.” he said quietly, coming forward before shoving the woman away from you. “Get out!” he yelled, not bothering to watch as she hurried out of the door. “That doctor was incompetent. Drag her away, punish her, and find someone else. NOW!”

Bodies bustled around, rushing to fulfill his orders, but he only had eyes for you. He held your hand, kissing each knuckle before he rested it against his face. You would be okay. You had to be. He didn’t know what he was going to do if you weren’t okay.

Doctor after doctor arrived, feeling the fierce pressure the king exuded as he ordered them to do something and time after time he received the same words.

I’m sorry.

It seemed to be the only thing the incompetent fools could say.

I’m sorry.

He shook his head, wondering whether he would hang the doctors for their incompetence. You were fine yesterday. Talking with him, laughing and touching, and now you were… what? What would they have him to believe?

He walked to your side, the doctors backing away slowly as he leaned over your body.

Silence permeated the room, everyone afraid to breathe lest they incur the king’s wrath, but it was abruptly broken by sharp laughter.

The king’s laughter.

Broken laughter that became muffled when he covered his mouth.

His body shook violently, everyone in the room flinching when he whipped around to face them with an ugly sneer.

“Are you fools so blind to not recognize a sleeping person?”

Everyone hesitated, too afraid to look away from the king.

“I have no further use for you. Get out.”

Maids, doctors, and servants alike left the king’s chambers single file, unsure what had occurred, but he didn’t seem to notice.If anything it was better for the both of you. No one was bothering you and you could rest peacefully.

He came to your side, tugging the covers back over you as he sighed.

“I shouldn’t have kept you awake for so long.” he said. You looked so cold.

His cheeks stretched into a soft smile. If you’d only opened your eyes to see how easily he could rest beside you now.

Your routine followed the same pattern.

The king would wake up, smiling as he kissed you and coaxed you to wake up but you remained as still as you’d been for the past couple of days. Your clammy skin did nothing to deter his affection as he’d kiss your forehead, your eyes, your pale lips.

He was used to getting an adverse reaction. He wasn’t sure if he preferred not receiving one at all, but it had to have been progress, right?

The king could start the day without punishing his lover for not responding properly. He could go perform his duties as king without worrying whether or not you’d attempt to escape again. He wouldn’t have to order the guards and maids to search for you. You would just remain sleeping in bed until you saw fit to get up.

The king hoped it was soon because he’d missed seeing your eyes, regardless of the emotion they held for him.

After a week, no one mentioned the putrid odor that began to drift from the king’s bedroom. The king himself had nothing to say about it so the others would keep their mouths shut.

His advisors continued meetings, exchanging glances between each other but none being bold enough to speak up. Maids would glance towards him nervously when he would pass by, too afraid to even whisper.

A considerate maid walked in and caused a commotion by screaming. What she saw remained a mystery to the other servants as the king barred others from his bedroom, lest they disturbed his sleeping lover and she refused to speak about it, looking distant. The servants were relieved they had an excuse to avoid cleaning the king’s bedroom. If not for the unspeakable terror then for fear that they’d aggravate the ghost-like king that appeared more haggard the longer you went without acknowledging his presence.

He supposed he couldn’t blame you. You couldn’t speak to him if you were asleep. He understood that rest was important, but he missed hearing your voice. Even if it meant hearing things he would hate, anything was better than this awful silence.

“My love?” he said, speaking to you even though he knew you wouldn’t respond. It wasn’t time yet, he told himself. You were still recovering. Still catching up due to restless nights he caused. He could give as many as he took, but it didn’t stop him from being lonely.

If anything, it was the one emotion he had to realize he felt.

He was terribly lonely. He’d only realized it after he no longer had the choice to speak to you. He didn’t have to seek you out anymore. He knew that you would be lying here, sleeping peacefully, but he’d look for you any day if it meant getting to hear your voice.

“Do you think you’ll wake up soon?” he asked, brushing your hair gently. If only you would open your eyes and see the amount of love he held for you. You would just have to look at him to see.

“Will you open your eyes?” he asked, on the verge of begging as he grew more and more afraid of the silence he knew he would be forced to endure.

Wrapping his arms around your body, he held you gently as he tried to choke down distress at being deprived of something he’d taken for granted.

“Please open your eyes.” he begged. “Please.”

After a month, the king was sure you were getting sick.

He’d tried combing your hair since you couldn’t do it for yourself and was shocked to find that it was beginning to fall out. At first he thought it was normal, but as he persisted more hair clumped into the jeweled comb.

He couldn’t wipe your body down because he’d begun to notice your skin change into a sickly color whenever he changed your clothes and the doctors that he’d attempted to enlist for advice responded with the same words he’d become tired of hearing.

I’m sorry.

There was never anything anyone could do. He had grown weary of even bothering. You would be fine. If he just gave you time, you’d recover and come back to him.

But he didn’t know how long that would take.

He’d begun to forget the color of your eyes, or what your expression looked like when it was filled with warmth. He continued to hold you as you slept and even if he hated it when you would flinch away from him, he needed something, anything from you.

He craved to hear your voice say that you loved him.

He wanted to remember the taste of your tongue as he held you tight.

He needed to see you give something other than this god awful stillness.

The king grit his teeth to the point where he felt as if his teeth cracked as he stared down at you, sleeping peacefully in the bed.

“Get up.” he said, feeling something surge inside of him at the continued sight of your sleeping face.

“Get up!”

The vase of wilted flowers on your bedside was the first thing to fly across the room, shattering into a million pieces as it hit a wall. He flipped over the table, ripped down the curtains, tore apart the bookshelf, wreaking havoc in attempt to bring you back from your persistent slumber.

The king didn’t care when he stepped on glass, cutting into his feet. He didn’t care that there was a group of servants beginning to crowd outside of his bedroom, calling in to ask if he was okay.

He only had eyes for you.

“Wake up.” he ordered, voice hard and cold as he hovered above you, willing your eyes to open at the sound of his voice. “You’ve slept long enough. Get up!”

He yelled.

You didn’t flinch.

All it took was the lack of a simple reaction to break him completely as he sunk to his knees, pleading, begging for you to open your eyes. For you to end this tantrum because he had grown impatient of waiting for you.

The king couldn’t remember when he had fallen asleep, feeling pain in his legs, but he couldn’t comprehend anything beyond the sound of your voice calling for him.

“My king?”

A gaunt face looked up. Wide eyes met your soft ones and the king felt tears prick the corner of his eyes as his shaking hand reached out to touch you. He was afraid. Was it really you? He hadn’t heard your voice for so long that he couldn’t be sure, but when you leaned into his touch, the dam burst as he hugged you tightly.

“What’s wrong?” you asked him.

His body shook, wracked as he sobbed. He didn’t understand just how much he’d missed hearing your voice. How much he missed you.

Pulling away, he cried in your lap feeling such immense relief that he was exhausted despite having just woken up.

“I’m sorry.” he said, kneeling at your feet as he caressed the sides of your ankles. It was the first time the words had ever left his lips. You had always been unsure whether he was taught the meaning of such words since he acted as if he could do no wrong, but maybe it took your continued silence to draw it out of him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” he said.

He sounded so broken. It was unlike his usual haughty tone. The confidence he wore like a second skin was gone now, replaced with an empty shell of a man as he prostrated himself before you.

“Please,” he begged, not wanting anything more than your forgiveness in this moment. If it meant forsaking the kingdom and relinquishing his title, he’d do it if it meant keeping you by his side. “Please don’t leave me.”

It was quiet for a moment and the king felt a ghost of a hand against the top of his head.

“Oh, king.”

Your voice was soft, gentle even. It gave him hope. Maybe he could fix things. He’d start over. He wouldn’t be so forceful. He always had a feeling that if he slowed his advances and focused on wooing you, you would’ve chosen to be his with time.

“Don’t you know that I’m already gone?”

The king was frozen.

You said the words so softly he was unsure if they were even said at all. He slowly raised his head, getting the distinct feeling that something was off, wrong.

His mouth was dry, feeling sweat run down his neck as he attempted to steel himself. He couldn’t sit here frozen forever, but the sense of relief that encompassed him turned into a dreadful chill. It was foolish. There was nothing to be afraid of. Nothing had changed in the last few weeks.

Months?

Your words were ominous, but you weren’t to be feared.

With a nervous breath, he lifted his head before his eyes froze on the stranger in his bed.

His body locked as he struggled to pull his eyes away from the repulsive corpse sprawled on his bed. Ghastly pale skin that appeared to mold in multiple places, maggot infested sockets where eyes should’ve been housed, and a slack mouth that melted into skeletal jaw. He could see the bone.

The king couldn’t move fast enough as his gag reflex kicked in, not just at the sight but the putrid smell that seemed to invade his senses. He retched, feeling his throat constrict painfully, but the smell was nothing compared to the body.

He was no stranger to dead bodies, having created many of his own, but there was something about the sight of one in his bed, one that seemed to sink and decay in too many places. In the place where the two of you spent time together. In the place where you should’ve been.

Shaking his head, he stumbled backwards as he tried to get to his feet. After almost failing twice, a sudden surge of fear struck him.

Where were you?

It was dangerous to stray from his side when someone had broken into his chambers to leave him such an unsightly display.

Staggering to the door, he yelled for the guards, afraid to look behind him at the dead body he’d discovered in his bed.

It didn’t make any sense.

You had been right there. How could you have moved so quickly?

“Find them.” he said, the minute the first guard entered his eye sight. “Find them. They have to be here somewhere.”

They stood stockstill, the king growing increasingly angrier the longer they stood and stared at him like fools.

You could’ve been halfway to another kingdom at this point!

“FIND THEM!” he roared, grabbing his sword as he threatened to cut down any who would dare disobey his orders.

“My king.”

He whipped around at the sound of your voice, eyes wide and wild.

“Don’t you know that I’m already gone?”

Where was this voice coming from? It was yours, but you weren’t here. You weren’t…

His eyes slowly made their way back to the corpse on your side of the bed. The same place you’d always slept. The place where you’d been for the last couple of months, sleeping.

But you were sleeping, you couldn’t be…

No.

He shook his head, not wanting to come to terms with reality. It couldn’t be. This body wasn’t yours. It looked nothing like you.

I’m sorry.

It was all they could say.

I’m sorry.

Each and every doctor he’d called to check on your condition.

I’m sory.

Even his own words that he’d realized he said too late.

He was too late and you were gone.

The sword clattered to the ground, the king’s quick breath becoming painful as bile forced its way up and out of his body.

The body was you.

No.

Don’t you know I’m already gone?

No. Who said that? He’d heard you. He heard your voice. It couldn’t be.

It couldn’t be you. It couldn’t be you. It couldn’t be you.

The king apologized! He said he would do things differently and he meant it this time. He wouldn’t let his anger get the best of him. He would try to understand you better. If anything his time apart from you proved that he could patiently and wait for you, so you couldn’t be gone. Not when he was finally ready to make things right.

I’m sorry.

Gripping at his hair, he let out something akin to wail that sounded unsettling and inhuman as he began pulling at the strands to rip his hair out. He fought against the hands that grabbed at him, forcing him to the ground to stop him from hurting himself, but he only had eyes for you.

He only had eyes for you.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere male #gn reader #ask #king!yandere #king yandere #yandere king x servant reader

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lycheedr3ams · 11 months

Text

Death's Angel

Part 4: Staking Claim

royal!fem!reader x executioner!konig

Summary: It's 1554. You're one of the eight daughters of the Austrian royal family, and your parents do everything they can to ensure their kingdom is prosperous and peaceful. No royal court is complete without their hand-picked executioner, one who stands out against the sea of black, faceless bodies that make up the profession. It just so happens that your family's new executioner, one who has made a name for himself far and wide for his skill with the axe, has caught your eye and ruined you for good.

Warnings: virgin!reader, oral (f,m receiving), cunnilingus, choking, slight masochism, pussy slapping, slight degradation, p in v sex, hand job, konig is demanding & a perv, dub-con if you squint, slight humiliation, slight ownership, mentions of breeding, cuddles & fluff at end (lmk if i missed anything)

this is one of the many filthy smut chapters to come!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

I just wanted to thank everyone for your support with this fic! I spent a lot of time on this chapter, I hope everyone enjoys! <3

not proofread

.......

series inspired by the art below!

you could barely process the next few seconds. the moment konig heard your words, challenging him to completely ruin you, he picked you up like you were nothing but a feather and threw you onto his bed. he really did try to be gentle. the bed creaked when you landed, and you laid there, contorting your body in an unintentionally seductive position, as you stared up at him with eyes that betrayed lust and fear. he stalked towards you laying on his bed as you waited with bated breath. he now stood right at your feet, which slightly dipped off the mattress frame, and stared down at you. his breathing was labored as he stared.

"what does a princess even want with an executioner?" he asked as he climbed over you on the bed. you now looked up at him with your head against the mattress.

you blinked, appalled by his question. wasn't it obvious? it was how he was everything you were taught not to be. how he sweated and grunted and chopped heads off while you lazily picked fine fruits off of silver platters and slept in a down mattress. how he was dangerous and free and unrestrained while you were duty-bound and predictable and soft. how he lived his life, not caring about others' opinions of him, while you were always under a microscope. you couldn't breathe free, you couldn't sleep soundly at night, you couldn't just take whatever you wanted, like he could. it was how he was the rabid wolf while you were the pampered lap dog. it was how he was death and you were a sorry excuse for life.

but all you could manage to say was -

"i like fire."

his large hand flew up to your neck and wrapped around it so easily. he could easily crush your windpipe and kill you, and it made you soaked. he applied gentle pressure to the sides of your neck with his fingers. he leaned down until his hood brushed your bare neck.

"still like fire?"

you looked up at him. "yes."

he held your neck firm as he moved his hood up slightly with his other hand to kiss you. but this wasn't the type of kiss you see in fairytales, the chaste type of kiss that princes give the princess after they've won the battle or killed the dragon. no, this was a kiss that was needy, lustful, a kiss that promised ruin and death, a kiss that stung so sweetly, a kiss that you were never meant to receive. but you received it and gave it back to him tenfold, your wet lips haphazardly gliding against his own. your arms timidly wrapped around his strong torso while your thighs seemed to open on their own to allow him closer to you as he devoured your mouth. his tongue slipped inside with a groan, and you couldn't help but whimper as his hand closed tighter around your neck.

this was the filthiest thing you had ever done, and it was just a kiss so far. your mixed spit dribbled down the sides of your mouth and down your neck, and you could feel his calloused fingers digging into the sides of your soft neck. and you could certainly feel his throbbing length pressing up on your crotch as he began to slowly grind on you. he eventually released your neck when you both gasped for air, and he readjusted his hood. he dropped his head down until his clothed nose rubbed right against your own.

"you have five seconds to get this dress off before i tear it apart," he growled.

you gasped, hopped out of bed, and undressed as he commanded. you normally wouldn't have been like this: so willing, so easy. you'd never even been touched by a man like this before, but the urgency and power in his voice didn't give you any room to think of disobeying. not that you didn't want this. no, you wanted this more than anything. besides, how would you explain why you suddenly had a dress that had been ripped to shreds? that a bear came and clawed it? perhaps your parents would believe that sooner than they would that their executioner corrupted their daughter in the bowels of the castle.

you let your nighttime dress drop to the floor with a quiet thud, and felt yourself become every shy as konig raked his eyes over your mostly naked form. he didn't say anything about your panties, and you were nervous as it is, so you kept them on. but you weren't wearing a bra, so your boobs and hardened nipples were bare for him to see.

he reached out his arms and dragged you by the waist to stand in between his legs at the bed. he wasn't gentle with you by any means. his hands gripped your waist tightly before that same pressure was applied to your breasts. you moaned breathlessly and shivered as he lifted his hood up enough so that he could take one of your hardened nipples in his wet mouth. you placed your hands on his shoulders for support as you swayed from the pleasure he was giving you. his wet, lithe tongue swirled around your nipples before sucking on them. he grunted like an animal starved against your breasts, and you pressed your thighs together as you bit your lip.

"lay down," he rasped as he half threw you back down onto the bed. you squeaked but followed his command. before you could get adjusted lying down, he yanked your panties off and didn't even bother taking them off your ankle before he spread your legs wide open. you hid your face as you blushed, but when you peeked out from between your fingers, you saw how hungrily he was staring at your pussy. his fingers dug into your thighs as he pressed your legs farther apart so that you were completely exposed to him. you blushed as you lost control of your breath. he examined your pussy like it was the last thing he would ever do. he couldn't help but stare at your perfect clit, your folds, or your cunt that was weeping and eager to take him in. it made your face so red that you had to turn your face to the side. your movement shifted his eyes towards you.

he got closer to your heat and lifted his hood so that he could access your most private area while keeping himself concealed. you couldn't stop the loud whine that escaped you when he ran his tongue over your pussy, purposefully widening it so that he touched every crevice. he didn't give you any time to adjust before he devoured your cunt like a man starved. the sounds his mouth was making were downright obscene: he slurped and sucked and grunted against your pussy as he probed your clit with his tongue and sucked on it hard. you squirmed and tried to push him away, but he held you open for him.

"stop moving," he grunted against your pussy before sliding his tongue into your soaking heat. your back arched as his silky, wet tongue probed and caressed your walls. you clenched around his tongue, and he couldn't help but groan as he thought about how it would feel when you clenched around his length. he placed his hands on the back of your knees by your thighs and pressed you open so he could access your wet cunt better. you gasped and shivered as you approached your orgasm on his tongue.

there was no way he was a virgin, because he ate your pussy so well, knowing exactly where to lick and when to suck, when to lap at you and when to do little kitten licks on your clit. your thighs shook under his massive hands, and you squirmed.

"konig! I'm -" you gasped before reaching your orgasm on his insatiable tongue. this wasn't like the orgasms you've had as you fingered yourself in your room, with your hand over your mouth so that the knights on patrol wouldn't hear you. this orgasm was completely shattering, and you clenched hard around nothing as konig sucked your clit as you rode out the waves of your pleasure. but he didn't detach from your clit, and you feebly pushed your hands against his head.

"too much! can't!" you whined. he finally removed his mouth from your cunt, but not before he lapped the juices that dripped out of your pussy. you lay back on his bed, breath ragged, sweaty, and very red with embarrassment as he stared at you, hovering over you.

"my turn," he said with almost a playful glint in his eye. you were confused, but you couldn't say anything before he manhandled you so that you were lying with your back on the bed and your head hanging upside down over the mattress. your eyes widened as you found yourself face-to-face with his massive erection. he pulled his pants down impatiently and threw them somewhere on his floor before he grabbed himself and brought his cock closer to you.

"open your mouth," he said as he pried your mouth open. he then grabbed your tongue and pulled it so that it was sticking out over your bottom lip before slowly easing his hard cock inside your mouth. he groaned the moment your soft lips wrapped around his length, and he pushed it halfway into your mouth. it was fucking huge, and tasted like salt and a little bit of sweat, but the feeling of the thick veins running through it pushing perfectly against your lips made up for the taste.

your throat bobbed, not quite used to the intrusion, as he stilled and groaned and enjoyed the feeling of your warm tongue and lips on his erection. he then, surprisingly gently, grabbed the sides of your head before slowly thrusting his length halfway in and out of your mouth. you needed some relief from the growing pleasure you felt, so you inched your hand down yourself as konig continued to use your mouth, and you stroked your clit. his eyes were currently closed, lost in the pleasure of your warm mouth, and you moaned against his cock. the vibrations sent shivers through him, and when looked down to see that you were pleasuring yourself, he bent over slightly, swatted your hand away, and rubbed your clit fervently with his index finger.

"you like sucking my cock, don't you?" he teased, and you could hear the smirk on his face. still rubbing your clit, he caressed your weeping cunt with another finger but didn't put it in.

he continued to thrust in your mouth, and his groans were like nothing you have ever heard. they were guttural, primal, and so overwhelmingly masculine. you came again on his finger, and he slapped your wet cunt, causing you to jump. he laughed quietly.

"does the princess like being handled like a common street whore?" he asked as his voice dipped several octaves. you were ashamed at how much that made you moan around his length. he grunted and his cock twitched before he extended your throat with his large hand and released his semen deep down your throat. you could feel the hot thickness of it sliding down your esophagus, and you coughed when he finally withdrew. but his length wasn't softening. was that even possible, you wondered?

when he caught you staring at his cock as you sat up, he laughed darkly.

"like what you see, princess?"

your eyes flicked up to his. "please, take your shirt off."

konig wordlessly removed his shirt, making sure his mask stayed on, before he threw his shirt on top of his discarded pants. you could now see him in his full glory, and oh did his body portray his profession. his biceps were so cut and thick, with prominent blue veins running over them. his chest and abs were defined, as were the deep ridges of his v-line. his thighs were thick and looked as strong as stone. if you didn't know any better, you would've thought he was a statue in the art wing of your castle. but your favorite part was the trail of thick hair that led down to his cock.

"you're...amazing..." you said breathlessly.

he looked like he could pounce on you at any second, like a spring just waiting to recoil.

"konig, i've... never had sex before," you admitted as you looked away from him nervously.

his energy, his demeanor, suddenly completely changed. his eyes grew dark, and his breathing almost stopped. he shook with how much he had to restrain himself.

"face down, ass up," he rasped. you were caught off guard, not expecting him to just completely breeze by that important detail, before you obeyed. you were glad for this starting position, since your face betrayed your embarrassment you feared you would never recover if he saw.

you could hear his feet padding against the cobblestone floor as he approached your exposed cunt. he slapped it again, and this time it stung. you whimpered. konig seemed to like giving you a little pain, since your whimper was met with a chuckle.

"i will take care of you, princess. just keep your ass nice and high for me," he whispered as he placed one hand on your hip and the other around his cock. you suddenly felt the tip beginning to penetrate you, and you clenched up.

"relax," he said as he rubbed his thumb in circles over your hip. "be a good girl for me and relax."

it was like konig had flipped a switch in your brain you didn't even know you had. you relaxed your walls and gasped silently as he slowly eased his hard length into you. you grasped onto the sheets at the intrusion.

"sc...scheiss," konig stuttered as he felt your wet walls take him in perfectly. he didn't let you get adjusted to his length before he grasped your hips with both hands and set a slow yet steady pace, thrusting in and out of you. his heavy balls slapped your clit with each thrust, and you moaned into the mattress.

"don't fucking hide from me," konig growled in your ear as he yanked your head up with your hair. the room was instantly filled with your moans and mewls. he held onto your hair and hip as he began to fuck you brutally.

"i never said i would be gentle," he said with a slight laugh in your ear. he seemed to be enjoying this, corrupting you and taking your first time in secret in the untouchable part of your castle.

he grunted loudly each time he sheathed his length into you, and your moans turned into barely audible screams. he was fucking you like a rabid animal, like it was his only mission to breed you and chase as much pleasure as humanly possible. it almost stung with how hard his balls now slapped at your clit, and you clenched around him.

"so fucking tight..." he rasped as he went back to holding your hips firmly in his hands. he manhandled your hips back onto him as he thrusted into you at the same time, making the experience so much more heightened.

"fucking. smiling. at me." he said with each hard thrust through gritted teeth. "tempting. me. this. whole. time." the sound of his skin slapping your own was like the steady rhythm that accompanied your loud, unrestrained moans.

"coming to my fucking room," he slurred as he continued pounding you. "following me."

you moaned and whimpered, feeling very self-conscious and embarrassed at his words. it didn't help his dick was filling you up to your skull.

"saying you can handle fire," he said in between grunts and groans. "you've...no idea..." he said as he thrusted "what you've...gotten yourself...into."

he was right, and you couldn't give a damn right now as his cock perfectly stroked your walls. he was just so deep, and hard, and you could see stars each time his tip kissed the entrance to your cervix. but your loud, guttural moans told him all he needed to know.

you knew his grip on your hips was going to leave bruises, and you didn't have the mental capacity in the moment to think of how to explain to the servants who bathed you where those marks came from. but you couldn't care less as konig claimed you again and again and again with his cock.

"take it," konig growled before his hips came to a halt, and he released his hot, thick load inside you. pregnancy chances be damned, all you wanted was his semen inside you. it was like setting a fire in your core, a fire that you never wanted to go out. he pulled out with a hiss, and you collapsed onto your stomach on the bed, panting and spent. konig also was catching his breath when you felt a gentle caress on your back. you jolted at the touch, feeling a bit overstimulated. he pulled his hand away.

"i'm not done with you yet, princess," konig whispered against the sweaty skin of your back before he kissed down your spine. you shivered at the feeling of his warm lips gliding over your skin, all the way down to the top of your ass.

"can't....take anymore," you murmured tiredly. konig exhaled against your back.

"you have hands, don't you?" he asked, only half teasing. he rolled you onto your back and laid next to you in bed. he wrapped his large arm around you, holding you in close to his side, and wrapped your hand around his semi-hard cock. he threw his head back as you began to pump him. you nuzzled your lips against his hood, and he eventually got the hint and lifted his mask up slightly so that he could capture your lips once again. he pulled you closer to him by your neck as his tongue invaded your mouth. his hips bucked up into your hand, and you squeezed him. he groaned in your mouth.

"so gut," he whispered against your lips. you pumped him faster, your lips never detaching from his, before he came all over his stomach with a groan. you both lay panting once again, you trying to catch your breath from the kiss and him from his orgasm. you pulled your hand away from his softening cock and laid it awkwardly on the side of your body.

konig rolled slightly over and picked up a cloth that was lying by his bed on the floor. he wiped his stomach clean, and then sat up.

"spread 'em," he said as he grabbed one of your thighs and held it up and open.

"wait, is that the cloth I gave you?" you asked him, blood rising to your cheeks.

"ja," he said simply before gently wiping your cunt clean.

"that...that cloth was...to wipe your sweat, or something..." you murmured as you watched him clean you.

"it's mine now. i can use it how i please," he said before he threw it back on the floor. he laid down next to you once again. you cuddled up into his side nervously and hesitantly laid a hand on his chest. he wrapped his arm around you and held you close by your back.

"don't tell anyone about this, ja?" he said against your scalp.

you nodded. "of course."

"you are mine now," he declared. you looked up at him, your cheek resting on his chest and your brows lifted in confusion and disbelief.

"what do you mean?" you asked, your voice rising in pitch a bit.

"you are mine." he repeated, and he didn't speak for the rest of the night. eventually, you got up out of bed and sheepishly put your clothes back on while konig admired the view, still laying down with his hands behind his head. he laid on his bed, completely naked, like it was the most natural thing in the world. the man oozed confidence. when you stumbled a bit as you walked, he chuckled quietly. you rolled your eyes at him.

"well...goodnight, then," you said awkwardly as you turned to go to his door to leave. but he got up suddenly and placed his hand on your shoulder. you looked back at him, confused, before he lifted his hood slightly and gently pecked you on the lips. and so you left his room feeling giddy, sore, and much too obsessed with the executioner.

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imyourbratzdoll · 5 months

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𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒏𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈

🍑peaches world (and the men that just exist in it) masterlist🍑

summary - the beginning on how you were kidnapped by the king of koopa kingdom, buckle in your seatbelts and enjoy the ride, because this will be a smutty rollercoaster.

warning - mentions of cock, kidnapping, inappropriate feelings/thoughts, swearing.

18+ only please, the gif isn’t mine, header created by me.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You watched your kingdom from above, it was a peaceful day as your people walked around and lived their lives happily. Usually, things were more of a ruckus. With a smile you turned and began to walk out of your room and down the hall, your pretty pink dress falling gracefully to the floor and sways with each step. You were happy, Lloyd and his brother Tangerine were currently out helping the people, so you had the castle to yourself.

You were wondering what you were going to do with your free time. You had many options, you could improve your parkour, do some painting that you always wanted to do but pushed to the side, you could go outside and tend to your flowers. The possibilities were endless and just as you were about to take the last step, a hand wraps around and covers your mouth. Your eyes widen, your hands immediately go up to try and pull whoever it is away. You freeze when they speak, feeling their massive body pressing against you.

“Shh, little Princess. You don’t want to warn the guards now, do you?” Ari Bowser Levinson is the one currently holding you. Your enemy, your rival. The King of The Koopa Kingdom. “That’s a good little Princess, staying nice and quiet for me.” You try to fight the shiver that runs through your body, knowing it’s wrong to feel this way when you are with someone. “Do you know how shit your security system is, Princess? I managed to slip right in, I mean. Someone really bad could’ve broken in and taken you for themselves, don’t you understand how dangerous that is.” He whispers like he isn’t the really bad person. You wiggle, trying to move away but you end up brushing your arse against him instead causing him to groan. “I wouldn’t do that, Princess. Unless you are wanting me to take you right here.”

You stop abruptly and your eyes widen, suddenly everything goes black. You don’t remember anything after that, and when you finally wake with your eyes fluttering open. You look around, confused. The walls and floors are grey, you tilt your head as you notice a large screen resting against the wall. Your attention is brought away from it when Ari enters the room. “Good morning, little Princess! Has my little Princess made herself comfortable in her new home?” He towers over you as he’s around 8 feet tall. He stalks closer, bending over to stare at your sitting form. “I sure hope so, because if I get my way, you will be staying here for the rest of your life!” He grins, and you shiver as it comes off evil-like. His eyes holding something much darker behind them.

“Screw you and your plan, Ari! I’m sure Lloyd and his brother are already on their way to come rescue me!” You huff, arms crossing over your chest unknowingly pushing your breasts together and giving the older man/monster a lovely view. Your bottom lip juts out and you try to glare at him, failing miserably with how small and cute you are compared to him.

Ari coos, “You are correct, my smart little Princess. As far as I’ve been informed, they are already on their way!” He watches you jump with joy, your breasts bouncing with each movement, and he feels his cock twitch, licking his lips as soon the fun will begin.

“Really?! They are coming?! That’s great!” You continue to jump, clapping your hands as a giant grin appears on your face.

Ari laughs, shaking his head and moving closer to you. Backing you into the wall. “Not so fast, little Princess. Not everything is going to be easy for you.” He grins, placing his arm next to you against the wall. Ari directs you toward the screen, his arm wraps around you, making you feel even smaller, those darn tingles appearing again, and you try to push them away knowing how wrong it is. His hand reaches into his pocket, receiving a remote and you eye it. Your eyes move from the remote to his hands, wondering how they can still look so good with the claws.

You had always heard stories before Ari turned his attention toward you and your kingdom. (Mostly you, but you didn’t think someone would be so obsessed with just you.) He was once a man that got his karma, being turned into half of a turtle. His already big build helped him mutate into something more monstrous. Horns in certain places, claws, sharp fangs, a larger cock. (Not that anyone got to see, but I guess it’ll be your lucky day.)

Ari snaps you out of your thoughts, smirking when he catches you staring at his hands. “Two days have passed since I kidnapped you, little Princess. Where do you think Lloyd and his brother are now?” He hums.

“I presume they should be knocking at the door to enter the castle, right about now. I think…” You blink up at him, brows furrowed.

Ari boops your nose, smirking wider than before. “Alright, if you have that much hope in your little boyfriend. Let’s watch it live to see how they are doing, shall we, little Princess?” You both face the tv, his large finger pressing the on button and he grins at your wide tear-filled eyes.

“They’re at the beginning?! But how?! What are they still doing there?!” You yell in disbelief. Sure, the brothers were a bit slow sometimes, but you would’ve thought that saving you would make them go a bit faster. You begin to scream at the screen, hoping that they would be able to hear you. “It’s been two days, and you are still there?! I’m not even in that fucking world!” Ari chuckles behind his hand as he hears you swear, you look so cute as your cheeks puff out. “I’m in Bowser’s castle! Everyone knows it’s the biggest and most guarded of them all! Those are just fucking decoys!” You stomp your foot, practically throwing a tantrum, not noticing the big bad King sneaking closer behind you. “You fucking idiots! They’ll kill you now! Fucking watch out! That’s just the first Goomba of that level! Don’t let him touch you, you idiots!”

“This is going to take a while, little Princess. So… Why don’t we have some fun while we wait.” Ari smirks as you turn with a confused look on your face. Before you can react, he rips your dress from your body, and you stand there with wide eyes. “Oh, we are definitely going to have some fun, little Princess.”

would you like to follow the game? if yes, please click round 1 when the link is avaliable.

𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 1

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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sinner-as-saint · 1 year

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heartless

Incubus!Bucky x Witch!reader (fantasy au)

Run-through: You learnt about them when you were young. You had tomes filled with information about them, how to invite one, how to control one, etc. You also knew that if done right, union with an incubus was said to result in the birth of powerful witches. And now, after having spent years all alone following the unfortunate slaughter of your family you have two strong desires; to have a child and to continue the witch bloodline. Both of which can be fulfilled by summoning and making the right arrangements with the right incubus. And the best part of it all, incubi were known to be incapable of love and emotional attachment, so ending the arrangement once you conceived wouldn’t be hard for either parties involved. Except, it’s not always that easy, is it? And perhaps, not all incubi are heartless.

Themes: breeding kink, smut, fluff, incubus!bucky, witch!reader, size difference, he has wings and a tail, some angst, HEA

a/n: nothing is folklore accurate whatsoever just excessive imagination and vibes hehe

You were prepared if ever it was not going to work the first time.

You’d been told, when you were a young woman who had just begun learning about the art of witchcraft under your mother and grandmother’s supervision, that incubi were particularly stubborn and picky demons. They were strong, seductive with vigorous stamina.

Given their power, they aren’t summoned. No. They are invited. And if they are feeling mischievous and generous, they accept the invitation. Sure, most incubi visited weak mortals of their own volition however they did avoid witches. Because the power dynamic there was more or less in equilibrium. Incubi couldn’t mess with witches like they did with mortals because witches were strong and smart enough to mess with them right back.

Still, you had made sure that everything was just perfect. You had countless tomes and books and scrolls on your table, all containing multiple ways of inviting an incubus. So many rules to follow. But you had done everything right; every rune, every herb, every incantation, every offering - to complete the invitation you had always been taught to lure them with something they’d want. Other than sex.

You had been told certain secrets other witch families did not know. Like how incubi, though ravenous, had a weakness for embellishment. Trinkets. Shiny things. So you offered this one a crown made of gilded animal bones.

You had everything in place. All that was left to do was wait. So you sat there, in what you called your workshop. You had a quiet little home in the middle of the woods. Well away from the kingdom of the vile King who had your entire family eliminated after using your powers and cures to save his wife from a terrible disease. For years the King was kind to your family, but one day, his wife died of natural causes, none of your doing but still, the King went mad and ordered to have your family slain. You managed to escape, unfortunately your mother and grandmother couldn’t.

So you ran far, far away from the kingdom. Got on a ship and travelled to a new country. Here people were welcoming and kind. No kings and queens, just people living together in harmony. So with what little money you had, you bought a plot of land and built a house. You had neighbours, but since you all had a large country all to yourselves, everyone was scattered rather far and wide from one another.

This country was unlike anything you’d ever heard or dreamt about. You had friends here who did similar things like you; warlocks, necromancers. Then there were the mermaids in the lake, and the fae people living in the same woods as you, centaurs and wolf shifters lived deeper in the woods, and so many more you still had to meet. There were no wars here, just peace.

But peace, after some years, started looking a lot like loneliness. During the initial years it seemed like you could do this forever, run your little shop, help your new friends when they needed you, socialise and learn about so many new people and animals, you thought you could spend a lifetime just being here and being happy. But then, as much as you adored your friends and neighbours, you missed family. Your own flesh and blood. And after years of living here and making sure that this was the happiest and safest place to have a family of your own, you wanted a child. And what better way of ensuring to pass on the gifts of your powerful bloodline than this. Besides, witches lived for a very, very long time and you couldn’t imagine spending centuries all alone.

You had envisioned your dream life often. Since witches most often had daughters, you often dreamt of you and your daughter living in this lovely place. Your home was spacious enough to accommodate around five people easily so you’d have more than enough space. You would build your daughter her own little workshop table. You’d teach her everything your mother and grandmother taught you, and all that you learnt by yourself. You’d watch her grow up and make friends of her own, maybe she’d like the faeries and the mermaids more. Or maybe even the gnomes. Or the pegasus in the meadows.

Maybe someday down the line you’d have another child. And you’d raise them both with the same kindness and love that your mother had with you. And life would be perfect then; with your girls, your friends, in this peaceful country.

If only…

“Such pretty dreams you’re having, little witch.”

A deep, smooth voice said. Sounding like it wasn’t too far from where you were… sleeping? Had you actually fallen asleep at your desk while waiting? You woke up startled, blinking at the demon in the room who was casually lounging on the chair by the window. The same chair on which you sat and read during the afternoons.

Except, the demon made the chair look smaller than it was. The chair still accommodated him well enough, but he was bigger. Broad shoulders, wide leathery wings folded behind him, long legs… he was surely taller than most of the people here. Shorter than the giants, but still. You had read that incubi were bigger in height and built and… other assets when compared to mortal men but seeing him in real life was still a little shocking.

Every other feature of his was mortal-like. Deep blue eyes, slightly darker here in your candlelit workshop. Pretty face, you noticed, if not a little arrogant looking but it suited him. Well defined features. Soft mouth, perfect nose. And he was slightly tanned. You thought he’d be ghostly white, with near translucent skin given there wasn’t any sun in the depths of hell that he came from. He also had shadowy, near black markings all over his hands, chest and some creeping up his neck. Swirls and symbols, and it only made him look even more dangerously attractive.

The candlelight reflected a little on the shinier parts of his large, leathery wings and you shivered a little before speaking, after clearing your throat. “You came.” You simply said and watched how his mouth twisted into a handsome smirk.

“How could I not?” He said, sounding cocky. “You gave me a proper invitation. And offered me such a pretty crown,” He twirled the gilded crown between his fingers, and added, “And such soft, delicious bread.”

Your face contorted in confusion at the sound of that. “Bread?”

He nodded, still toying with the handmade crown, “Forgive me, I didn’t save you any. I was famished. Butter and honey, was it?” His voice sounded like a purr, like a lover’s caress. Dangerous he was, this one. The handsome ones usually are if you remember your notes correctly.

You blinked at him once, twice and then looked down at your hand and sure enough, there it was - remnants of the butter. You had been nibbling on homemade bread as you waited earlier, but given that you fell asleep at your desk, the bread must have fallen out of your hand, rolled and landed near the runes. Had you messed up? You couldn’t have. He was here, wasn’t he?

The demon gave you another arrogant grin, “I assume the bread was a mistake.”

You stood up from your chair and thought well before speaking, “I apologise.” You said. Even though it is always said to never seem shy and docile in front of the likes of him. You were supposed to assert dominance. But… how could you when he was looking at you like that? Himself looking all regal in all his naked glory.

He chuckled. Chuckled. Then said, “No matter.” You noticed he remained seated. He said, “I heard your invitation, heard what you wanted from me.” He paused for just a second and noticed the way you squirmed. Then continued, “I appreciate your gifts, witch.” He admitted. “So,” He spoke in the voice which was equivalent to a lover’s soft caress again, “A child?”

“Yes,” You said firmly, finally able to stand your ground and act like the powerful witch that you were. “A child.”

He nodded slowly, “I can’t say I’ve ever encountered a motherly sorceress before. Most of them are nasty and cruel.” He spoke with such honesty. It was refreshing almost.

You managed a faint smile as you looked down at the rings on your fingers, many of them were passed down to you, the others you had handcrafted, “Most of us develop a hard exterior because of how we are treated by most mortals. Half of them are afraid of us and the other half despises us enough to hurt us for no reason.”

He cocked his head to the side, “Who hurt you?”

“A King. He… hurt my family.” You answered.

“Hence the empty house.” He noted.

“Yes.” You said, finally looking up to meet his deep blue stare. He was… devilishly handsome. Even as he sat there looking all princely which should’ve irritated you because it was your favourite chair. What if his devilishly strong body breaks it?

But then…

Then he stood up. Proud and tall. Other parts of him stood proud and tall as well so you couldn’t help but look down, following the many muscles on his broad chest, down to his navel and down to his jutting cock.

Holy gods.

He was very, very well endowed. It took some seconds before you moved your shamelessly leering gaze up to his eyes again. And then… holy gods, he was tall. Taking up much more room now that he was standing up in the middle of your, what now seemed cramped, workshop.

He smirked as he looked down at you. Crossing his muscular arms over his chest he said, “I assume I am to your liking then?” He teased, obviously enjoying the way he had you tongue-tied.

You looked up at him nervously. You’d never done this before. And now, standing in your dimly lit workshop, wearing your black flowy black robe, the demon did make you feel a little subservient. “I… um, yes.” You struggled to answer, struggled to hold his lordly stare.

You mindlessly took a step back the moment he began approaching you. Steadily, slowly, letting you see all of him before he came to a stop only inches away from where you stood, near your desk.

“Well then, little witch. Shall we?” He said, before placing his warm hands on either side of your waist and lifted you up to set you down on the edge of the desk with ease. You never quite realised how strong incubi were until now. They were some of the strongest demons of Hell.

You were sat on the edge of your wooden desk, legs dangling off the edge as you looked up at him. Only then did you notice his slender tail, as it wrapped around your thigh which was now exposed due to the slit in your black robe.

The demon seemed to inhale deeply before saying, “You smell absolutely delicious.” He stepped in between your legs, spreading them as he placed both of his hands on either one of your thighs. “May I have a taste?” He asked, slowly pushing your back down on the surface of the table so you lay on it, with your legs still hanging off the edge.

You nodded. “Yes,” You murmured, watching him lean over you for a moment before he pulled your robe up to your waist, taking in the sight of your bare body under it.

He hummed in appreciation which shouldn’t have made your body tingle the way it did. Then he grabbed you by the hips and lifted your lower body off the table with ease, enough so that he could comfortably bend and place his mouth right where you didn’t realise you’d been aching for him to touch.

Your legs hooked easily over his shoulders as his ridiculously soft lips brushed against your inner thighs before you felt his warm, long tongue slide in between your wet lips. He somehow managed to spread your legs even more, leaving you completely at his monstrous mercy as his tongue teasing your entrance, lips sucking on your clit. Damn him. But at least now you understand why most people let incubi feed on them. It’s because their touch was this addicting.

Your hands rested on either side of your head, limp on the table as you threw your head back and moaned, unable to stop yourself. He growled against you, sending pleasurable vibrations all over your body. His tail remained wrapped around your thigh, slithering along your skin in tandem with his devious tongue as he ate you out ravenously, savouring your taste while holding your heated stare.

His strong body in contrast with your more mortal-looking one. His hands and arms, covered in those shadowy markings gripped your thighs securely, keeping you spread open for him. He almost made you forget the reason he was here was beyond just pleasuring you. “You taste exquisite, little witch.”

He knew he could only take minimal energy from you. Mortals were left drained after incubi were done with them but you were stronger, and with your protective wards around you, you didn’t feel as drained. Neither did he feed on you like he would on a mortal. Still, you felt a little delirious, almost euphoric as he tasted you.

You gasped and moaned as he almost made you come all over his tongue. You’d let yourself go under his irresistible touch. It was high time to get to business. “Don’t forget why you’re here, demon.” You managed to say before he slid his tongue inside you once more before pulling away and placing your lower body back on the wooden table.

“Of course. You need more than just my tongue, little witch.” He teased, keeping your legs wide open for him as he reached down and easily tore the rest of your robe off your body. You noticed his eyes got darker as he grabbed and fondled your breasts.

His shadow filled hands slowly trailed down your bare body. He reached your folds and once again teased your clit with his fingers, slowly sliding his one finger down your slit to your opening. His other hand grabbed his cock, guiding it over to your hole. You were drenched down there, he noticed. He was in a mood to play so instead of just sliding into you, he teased you by sliding his tip up and down your slit.

He rather enjoyed watching you hiss, and whine and whimper, and squirm on the tabletop. “You are going to have to put in some effort to fit me inside you.” He said, purposely pushing his tip against your tight opening, just applying enough pressure to make you lose your mind but not quite enough to slide in just yet.

Your voice trembled as you spoke, “Don’t… don’t play with me, demon.” You tried to sound as assertive as you could. But you ended up sounding like you were begging him to keep playing.

“No?” He cooed, almost in a mocking tone. “But you make such pretty sounds when I play with you.”

You arched your back, moving your hips forward, desperately trying to get his cock to slide inside you. You whimpered when he kept teasing you. “Please,” You murmured. Damn this demon and his enchanting touch.

He smirked. “Very well then.” He slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside of you, carefully watching you to gauge your reaction to his size. You felt his length stretching you like no one ever did. You gasped and moaned as he filled you up.

He grabbed your bent legs and spread them open, pushing them as far back as they would go before burying his cock fully inside your tight, warm hole. He held your stare the entire time, even as he pulled out and pushed back into you.

You gasped for air, the snugness of him feeling unbearably good. With your back flat against the wooden table top and you whined at the feeling of his cock moving swiftly in and out of you. You could feel your walls gripping him and milking him as he pounded into you.

“You feel just as good as you taste, little one.” He whispered as you threw your head back and moaned, feeling him moving in and out of you to the point where the only thing you could focus on was the snug way he felt inside you.

His large hands grabbed you by the hips, lifting your lower body just inches off the table and pulling you in each time he pushed inside you with enough force to drive you insane. Then… then you felt something pressing against your clit, rubbing it in sync with how he moved against you. His tail. The flat end of it, sliding across your sensitive clit while he fucked you.

You cried out loud, somehow managing to hold his stare as you slowly felt your brain getting foggy with intense pleasure.

“Look,” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, as he lowered his gaze to your lower abdomen. You followed his gaze and let out a gasp of both surprise and bliss. You watched how each time he pushed into you, a soft bulge formed against your stomach. “You’re so soft and delicate.” He said, his voice steady and calm as if he wasn’t rutting into you like an animal.

Mindlessly, you placed your hand right where the bulge formed each time and you felt it against the palm of your hand. You cried out in pleasure again.Your legs trembled as he held them spread open for him, not willing to let them go yet.

You closed your eyes as you felt your walls clenching around him and the pressure around your lower body felt tight and hot. The handsome demon looked down to where you clenched around his cock. And he sped up, moving the desk along with his thrust and causing books and scrolls and pens to fall carelessly on the ground.

Somehow, it felt like he fucked you deeper now. Faster. His damned tail moved against you in equal vigour, flicking your clit until you cried out again. He chuckled, watching you nearly come undone beneath him. So he leaned in and said, “Should I fill you up nicely now, little one?”

His voice, the surprising warmth of his body, the feeling of him inside you, the candlelight which made him look like a wild god. You whined, and said, “Yes, please.”

He smirked, letting go of your legs and instead leaned over your body so he could get close to your mouth. His hand grabbed your wrists and pinned them down on the table, above your head. This close, your breaths mingled. His heated stare, his warm body pressing against yours while his other hand reached up to toy with your breast. “So soft,” He whispered.

For some reason, that was all that you needed to hear, all the stimulation you needed to come undone, clenching around him violently as you did. He held your stare through it all and soon after, he spilled inside you too, grunting and gasping for air.

Your back arched off the wooden table as you felt his warm release filling you up. He pulled out a little and pushed inside you one more time before stopping, properly emptying himself inside you. You were still whimpering and moaning as he pulled out. You could feel his release slowly trickling out of you.

You closed your eyes for a few moments. And you fully expected him to be gone by the time you caught your breath and opened your eyes. But there he still was.

He picked you up from the table, cradled you in his arms and asked, “Where’s your bed?”

You lifted a shaky hand and pointed in the general direction of your bedroom, just outside your workshop and he began walking towards it. He stopped outside the dark doors and nudged them open with his broad shoulder, walking into your bedroom.

No one had ever been in here. Wherever you had your neighbours and friends over for dinner or the afternoon tea, you hosted them in the kitchen or the other rooms. He was the first person to ever walk into your bedroom and honestly, he didn’t look that out of place.

Your bedroom was spacious, mainly dark except for some candles which thanks to your magic could be left unattended and would never burn your house down.

“Here,” He placed you down in the middle of your bed and said, “I’ll take your leave now, little witch.” He spoke, smirking as he let his eyes roam your bare body one last time before turning around.

You reached out and grabbed his wrist before he would fully turn away. You managed to say, voice a little raspier now after all that moaning and gasping earlier, “You… um, in case this doesn’t work the first time around,” You spoke, hoping he read in between the lines, “And if I find myself in need of your, uh, help again. Would you come if I call?”

He grinned. “Of course. No need for shiny crowns next time, just leave out some warm bread.” He left you with a playful wink and a handsome smirk. And then just like that, as if the shadows of your room swallowed him whole, he disappeared.

—

For the following week that passed by, you paid extra attention to your body and with the help of your magic, you’d know if conception occurred. But also, you couldn’t bring yourself to forget the demon.

He’d been just as energetic and thorough as you expected him to be. But… he had also been much more gentle than you expected him to be. The bread incident made you giggle quietly to yourself now that you thought about it. And you did think about it each time you baked.

You were extra nervous the next time you sent out an invitation to him. The conception hadn’t happened, as expected because they rarely work the first time. Which meant that you needed the demon again. So as you waited for him to show up, awake this time, you found yourself feeling unnecessarily giddy.

You not only tried to lure him with your best bread this time, but also a cloak. Not that you minded his naked form but… you felt the need to give him something nice. Not quite like a payment, just a gift if you will. You had made the cloak in a way to accommodate his wings comfortably as well. And those broad shoulders, and strong limbs, and-

You were lost in thoughts of him when a voice spoke up from the corner of the room, “A cloak this time,” He noted, grinning already. “I think you like me quite a lot, little witch.”

You smiled at him. Your heart almost skipped a beat at the sight of him. The handsome demon came wearing the crown you’d made him the last time. And he looked like a god. Naked, golden skin, shiny crown, dark wings and those shadowy markings all over his skin.

“It’s just a way of thanking you for, you know, helping me.”

You didn’t feel so nervous when he approached you this time. You let him come closer until he was standing in between your legs again as you sat on the edge of your desk. He placed his large, warm hands on your thighs as if it were a habit and his tail wrapped around your calf, squeezing just a little to remind you of last time. You shivered at the memory.

“But do you?” He asked playfully.

“What?”

He gave you a cocky grin. “Like me?”

Well that came out of nowhere. You chuckled, “Yes. I wouldn't have sought you out again if I didn’t.”

He smirked. Then reached out to touch your face so gently that for a moment you forgot he was a demon from Hell. “I take it that you need me to fill you up again, little witch?” He asked so brazenly, while your face felt hot.

You managed to say, despite your racing heart, “I do. And I’ve even come up with a plan in order to ensure that it works this time.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “What plan?”

Your face heated up again as you said, “I suppose for it to work this time around, maybe you shouldn’t, um, pull away so soon after…”

“Ah.” The demon’s smirk denoted that he understood. “I see.” He said, “So you wish for me to remain buried deep inside that tight warmth of yours after I’ve filled you up.” He said, purposely just so he could watch you squirm. “I can do that.”

A sudden confidence shot through you, “Good. That is precisely why you are here, demon.” You sassed.

The demon chuckled before reaching out to grab you carefully by the jaw. His actions were slow and gentle, as if worried he might accidentally hurt you. “Careful with that mouth of yours.” He hissed playfully, “Don’t you know what happens to pretty little witches when they run their mouths like this?”

You held his stare, playing along, “No.” You whispered, “What happens to them?”

He leaned in and whispered against the corner of your mouth in a sinful voice, “They get pinned to the wall and fucked until they cannot think straight.”

You felt your heart racing faster. Your thighs desperately wanted to clench together but he wouldn’t let that happen. His tail slowly moved up and down your leg, stroking your skin and making you crave his touch even more. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this, right? You were supposed to just take what you needed from one another and that should’ve been it. But… you didn’t mind this.

His mouth moved along your cheek and you lost your ability to speak. He kissed along your jaw and down your neck, then he said, “I can hear your heart racing, my little witch. Tell me, is that what you want?” He kissed along your collar bones and the top of your breasts. “Do you want to be pinned to the wall and fucked by a cruel, greedy demon like me? Hmm?”

“Yes…” You managed to whimper. “Please.”

He scoffed, kissing his way back up your neck before he reached your mouth again, “Alright, little one.” He breathed against your parted lips and moved the two of you with such ease and speed that all you did was blink and you found yourself away from the desk and now naked and pinned to the nearby wall, bare legs wrapped around his torso and his mouth pressed against yours.

His wings spread wide behind him, blocking the candlelight from reaching the two of you and shrouding you both in unnatural shadows. Almost as if he couldn’t bear the thought of anything else touching you except for him and his darkness. Not even light.

Your hands wrapped around his broad shoulders, pressing you tightly against his firm body as his mouth moved against yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, making you moan into the kiss as he undid the tie of your robe, letting it slip down your body until it fell to the floor.

His large hand cupped you in between your legs and he pulled away from the kiss, grinning at you like the Devil himself. “All that for me?” He asked, sliding his knuckles along your wet folds, smearing your arousal around. “How very immoral of you. Spreading your legs and getting all wet for someone like me.”

You whined when he slid a finger inside you, followed by another before he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the right spots which make you weak in the knees. You bucked your hips against his hand involuntarily, and he chuckled as you moaned out loud while he touched you.

“Are you ready for me now?” He mumbled, kissing down your neck, nibbling on your skin around your collar bones.

“Yes,” You cried out when he wrapped his mouth around your breast, sucking just enough to drive you wild, making you grind your hips against him, chasing whatever friction you could get.

His cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you whimpered. You felt his body tense up against you as well and a quick moment later, he aligned his tip to your dripping wet hole and slowly pushed in.

His fingers dug into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours scratched at his shoulders as he filled you up like the previous time, making you whine and moan as he went. His body was familiar now. His heat, his scent. The sound of him breathing, his warm chest pressing against yours. And when you looked down, you already knew you’d find that bulge forming against your stomach each time he buried himself all the way inside of you.

When he began rocking in and out of you, your body remembered. The stretch of his thickness, the snugness of him, the way he started out with slow strokes and then gradually sped up into you. It was all familiar. Except this time, you could feel his back muscles moving along with each thrust of his. Each movement of his reminding you of the sheer power his sinful body contained.

“You feel even better than last time, little one.” He said as his devious tail reached up and wrapped around one of your breasts, pumping it before moving to the other one, and repeated.

His strong arms supported you up by grabbing you at the curve of your ass, holding you against him, as he sped up into you. He fucked you relentlessly, with a little less caution this time. Your back hit the wall with each thrust and you couldn’t stop whimpering, whining and moaning as he fucked into you with the intensity only a demon like him could.

Your hands somehow slid beyond his shoulders, grabbing onto the base of his large, dark wings. He stilled. Then supported you up with one hand thanks to his devilish strength, while the other pulled your sneaky hands away from his wings and pinned them above your head. He began fucking you again and said, flirtatiously warning you, “Wings are extremely sensitive.”

That only intrigued you even more, but all that for later. You needed him right now. And you needed to come.

He leaned in and nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how his body brought you immense pleasure, your mind a foggy mess. Your clit rubbed against his stomach each time he buried himself completely in you, and he soon quickened his pace, earning even more moans and gasps from you.

Your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace, pounding into you relentlessly. The pleasure built nicely as he took you higher. The bulge in your stomach forming and disappearing quicker now. Your moans were wanton.

“Ready for me to fill you up again, little one? Hmm? You’re going to be so full after this,” He whispered, leaning in just so his mouth would brush against yours as he spoke. “Perhaps you’ll still feel me in between your legs when you wake up tomorrow. Is that what you want? Huh? Is that why a pretty little witch like you invited a filthy beast like me? Because you wanted to be so full.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came undone around his thickness. Walls clenching around him, nails scratching down his shoulders and chest as loud moans escaped your mouth. He came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls before he filled you up with his warm release. Pumped you full of it until you could feel it inside you.

And just like you’d instructed him earlier, he didn’t pull away immediately. He caught his breath for a few moments before he moved, keeping you pressed against his chest, still buried deep inside you he pulled away from the wall and walked out of your workshop, towards your bedroom.

You felt a soft pinch inside your chest at the thought of him being so comfortable with moving around in your house.

He opened the bedroom door, still holding you close to him as he carefully laid the two of you in your bed. He barely fit in your bed which was in fact made to hold two people. He pressed closer to you as you both laid on your sides facing each other. “Are you alright, little one?” He asked softly. With genuine care.

You blinked at him lazily, feeling boneless because he’d worn you out. “Hmm, I’m alright.” You whispered, feeling his tail stroking your leg as if comforting you while his hands held you close to him.

He gave you a rare, soft smile. Then said, “Tell me about your shop.”

You smiled and answered, “Well, it’s a typical witch shop. I sell crystals, candles, herbs, and medicine. The children get hurt often, especially when they play in these woods, so I sell stuff that heals them even quicker. I have special crystals, laced with magic to help my friends shift quicker. The mermaids love them. The dragon folks up on the mountains love them too. The wolves wear them around their necks like necklaces.” You paused, “Why do you ask?”

He shrugged, the movement also moving him while he was inside you so you whimpered in pleasure. He pulled you closer, kissing your forehead as if apologising and answered, “I’m just curious about your community here. It all seems so… peaceful.” He said.

“It is.” You gave him a faint smile. “Everyone is welcomed here. A family of moth people just moved in down the creek. They have the most adorable little children.” You giggled. “And-,” You stopped abruptly at the sight of the longing and slight envy in his eyes. “What is it?” You asked, sensing the shift in his demeanour. He seemed sad.

He gave you a faint, fake smile. “I’m just thinking about how nice it must be. To be accepted for being whatever you are. To have friends and not have people look at you and run away screaming.”

Your heart ached for the handsome demon. You reached out and laid a hand on his cheek. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, sincerely. “Is it that bad where you’re from?”

“It’s lonely.” He answered truthfully. You knew the feeling all too well.

Your thumb instinctively began stroking his smooth cheek. “And you can’t leave.” You stated, suddenly feeling very bad for the demon.

“Oh we can leave. I know a few of my kind who have left and moved elsewhere, but it’s not common.” He said, “There are not many places where beings like me are accepted.” Then he smiled and said, “I’m not like you, little witch. I have no skills. There’s nothing I can do to contribute to a lovely community like this one and have its people accept me as one of their own.”

You chuckled, “Well, I’m sure we could find something for you to do.” You said, “You have wings and can move at incredible speed, maybe you could be a mail carrier.”

He laughed. Truly laugh, louder than he ever had. And he looked like a god while he did. His boyish laughter echoed around your bedroom and if you could bottle up the sound and keep it forever, you would.

When he finally stopped and looked back at you, you could’ve sworn you saw something resembling affection in his eyes. “You truly are something, little witch. I’m very glad I met you.” For some reason, his words felt like goodbye.

And then it hit you. If you managed to conceive this time, maybe this would be goodbye. You snuggled closer to him, refusing to think about that right now, and said, “And I’m glad I met you, demon.” His wing wrapped around you and you fell asleep some moments after, cocooned in the warmth of his body and wing.

—

When you woke up in the morning, he was gone. The entire day went by in a blur. You worked at your shop, met up with your friends for afternoon tea, made yourself dinner and then you went back to bed. And repeat.

It was only two days later, when you sensed something different about your body did you realise that it had happened. You were expecting. And your heart sank, solidifying the fact that you would never see the demon again. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, but you couldn’t get rid of the sadness.

But that was the initial plan, was it not? So what if you’d miss his handsome face, his cocky humour, and his touch. This is what you wanted, a baby. And now you were going to have one. And yet, you couldn’t help but miss him.

You thought the absence of him would not matter in time, but weeks later, it felt the same. Each time you made your bed, each time you baked, each time you saw a couple walking hand in hand, everything reminded you of the surprisingly kind demon.

But then one evening, as you returned home from your shop, you sensed something different in the air the moment you stepped inside your house.

And something stirred inside you, that pinch in your chest, the way your heart fluttered. You knew.

“You’re here.” You whispered, shutting the door behind you. You placed your basket down and waited. And then, as if he stepped out of shadow itself, one moment he was nowhere to be seen and the next, he was standing a few feet away from you.

Wearing his dark cloak and his golden crown. He looked like a forgotten, ancient god. One so handsome anyone would willingly worship at his altar. “I am.” He answered, looking at you with sad eyes.

You held his stare and both of you were quiet for a while. You hadn’t invited him tonight. It had been weeks since you last saw each other and seeing him right now, it hurt. It hurt even more because he seemed… lost, hurt and confused. And you didn’t know what to do.

Then his eyes trailed down your body, stopping around your midsection. You smiled and placed a hand on your abdomen, even though you hadn’t started showing just yet. “It worked,” You told him. “I’m expecting.”

“I see.” When he looked up to meet your eyes again he looked even more miserable. And heartbreakingly alone.

“Well,” You said cheerfully, hoping to make him feel a little better. “I was going to make dinner, would you like to join me? I even made fresh bread.” You said, smiling up at him.

He gave you a faint smile, noticing how you weren’t asking him what he was doing here. He nodded, following you to the kitchen and the cosy dining table.

–

Dinner went well. The conversation flowed. He asked you about your neighbours and friends, and your shop. He laughed at your jokes and you laughed at his. Yet once you were both done with your food, the tense silence was back.

Then, while he helped you put away the dishes he said, “I wanted to see you.”

You placed the last plate down and then turned to look at him. “I’m glad you came.” He was so tall that you had to extend your arm up completely to be able to touch the shiny crown on his head. It warmed your heart that he wore it. You smiled and asked, “You really like that crown, don’t you?”

He smiled back at you and said, “It’s my favourite gift I’ve ever been given.”

“Do you show it off to everyone?” You asked, teasing him.

His smile fell a little. “I have no one to show it off to.” He stated.

Your heart broke at the sound of that. You couldn’t help but lean in and wrap your arms around his torso. He was warm, his body heat wrapping around you as you hugged him. “I’ve missed you too.” You said.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer and kissed the top of your head. “Can I stay for a while?” He asked, and the softness of his voice made you tear up.

“Of course you can stay,” You said, then pulled away to look up at his pretty face. “For as long as you wish to.”

So you and the handsome demon found yourselves on that favourite chair of yours, with you on his lap. You tried to read but then ended up engaging in playful banters with him until you slowly drifted off to sleep right there on his lap, with your face nuzzling his neck. He had his arms wrapped protectively around you, reminding you a lot of how the dragons guarded their hoards.

So you fell asleep, dreaming of random things until…

You were in the meadows. The sun was about to set so the sky was nothing but golden and pink and purple. But you weren’t alone. A little girl was holding your hand tightly.

Your daughter?

You looked down and she was barely tall enough to reach your knees but she squealed in happiness, pointing up at the sky. You followed her small finger and found a dark spot in the pink and purple sky above. A dark spot, like shadows, that grew and grew until it looked like it was getting closer and closer to the ground. It was. He was. Mighty wings flapping in the wind as he flew above you in circles until he landed on the grass with a loud thud.

Your daughter dropped your hand and ran to him, to her father. And he picked her up, holding her high up in the air, laughing as she giggled louder than ever, before hugging her close as he walked over to you. Once close enough, he bent down to kiss your forehead, curling a wing around you. As if it were a habit. As if he’d done it hundreds of times.

“Let’s go home, my love.”

You woke up, and immediately pulled away to meet his eyes. Incubi could infiltrate dreams with ease. And your handsome demon had done just that.

You held his stare in silence for a while. Then you managed to ask, voice a little shaky, “Is that- what you just showed me, is that something you would want?”

He grabbed you by the hips and pulled you even closer, “You are what I want.” He whispered, inches away from your lips. “You and…” He placed a hand on your not-showing-yet stomach. “Her. And however many more babies you would want from me. I want everything with you.”

Your eyes watered, and you managed a faint smile as you said, “And here I was taught that demons were heartless.”

He chuckled, and grabbed your hand and brought it up to his chest. He placed your palm down on the material of the cloak, right in the middle of his chest and said, “Feel that?” He pressed your palm against his chest. And you felt it, the steady beat of his heart. “I forgot it was even there. Until it began racing the other day when I thought of you.”

You blinked away the wetness at your waterline, sniffled and said, “How poetic of you, demon.” Then you realised, “I don’t even know your name.”

He laughed again, eyes filled with adoration as he looked at you. “I don’t have one. Then again, my name can be whatever you want it to be.”

Your heart doubled in size just looking at him. “Are you sure you want this? You’ll have to pull your weight. I’ll make you do chores.” You teased.

He smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “Anything you want me to do, I’ll do it.” He smirked then added, “I’ll even carry mail around if you want.”

You couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss. A deep, passionate kiss. One that made him growl possessively against your mouth before he claimed it with enough passion that had you undoing the buttons in the front of your dress as quickly as you could.

He helped you in getting rid of your long, flowy dress. Then as you straddled his lap properly, he shrugged off his cloak and dropped it on the ground. And all it took was one silent, pleading look from him and you bucked your hips against his, your wet core rubbing against his erection and he grunted. His hands rubbed up and down your sides lovingly.

“Don’t tease me, little witch.” He whispered mischievously against your mouth, your warm breaths mingling. The fact that he was willing to just sit there and let you take whatever you wanted from him turned you ravenous.

You lifted off his lap and slowly lowered yourself down on his cock, or tried to because you still had trouble taking him given his size. But with a little help, he grabbed you by the hips to keep you in place and he pushed up into you. Making you cry out as you finally began sinking down on him. Somehow, he felt bigger this way and your body resisted just a little to fit him inside.

An arrogant smirk formed on his pretty face as he watched you struggle for a while. “Do you need help, little one?” He asked, and once you nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes, he grabbed your hips in place and gently began thrusting his hips up into you until you found a pleasurable pace.

When you felt that your body could take it, you began moving against him. Lifting up just the slightest, before sliding back down on his cock, you whimpered as he groaned, snug inside of you. In this position, the tip of his cock reached sensitive places you never knew existed.

“You’re so warm,” He whispered, his eyes locked in place where he disappeared inside you each time you moved. Lust-drunk, both of you. You leaned in closer, cradling his head as he took one of your breasts into his mouth while his tail wrapped around the other.

Crying out in overwhelming pleasure, you moved faster, impaling yourself down on his cock each time. You whimpered shamelessly as you felt him filling you up completely each time, feeling him reach deeper into you with each thrust.

His hand slipped between the two of you and he placed his palm against your abdomen. Your heart melted as you remembered the dream you just had. You cupped his face and he released your nipple to look up at you. Nothing needed to be said, the sincerity and adoration in his eyes spoke volumes. You leaned in for a soft kiss, moaning against his lips as his hand circled around your waist and he pulled your warm body closer to his.

He felt warm from deep within. Warmth he had never felt before. Your lips brushed against his each time you moved up and down his cock. He mostly let you set the pace and he took whatever you gave him, only guiding you up and down his cock when you needed him to.

You pulled away, bouncing on his cock as you stared into his pretty eyes. He whispered gently about how perfect you felt around him, wet and warm all for him. He panted against your cheek, kissing the side of your face and gripping your jaw with his hand. “You’re mine,” He whispered.

“And you’re mine.” You didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, and he kept thrusting his hips up into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came, hard, feeling your walls squeezing and clenching around him.

He came right after you, his warm release filling you up once again as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed your warm body closer to him. “I’m gonna take care of you.” He promised.

You smiled, pulling away to look into his eyes. “You’ll never be lonely again. I promise.” You sealed your promise with a kiss on his forehead and he couldn’t have smiled any bigger.

“Do you have to go and bring back all your belongings?” You asked, kissing down his face until you could nuzzle his chest. Secretly not wanting him to leave even for just a minute.

“I don’t have any. All I have is the crown and cloak you gave me.” Something about that made you tear up as you looked up at him. He smiled at you, pulling you closer.

You sniffled, snuggling closer to him. “I'll make you a drawer full of clothes and cloaks. Some pants too. Maybe even a hat or two for when it gets cold.”

He laughed, kissing the top of your head. No one had ever cared for him this much, let alone a fraction of this. And in that moment he knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you, and the family that you two would have soon. “I’ll love you till the end of time, little witch.”

“And I you, demon.” You wrapped yourself around him, placing your ear right above where you thought his heart would be. In the middle of his chest and there it was, his steady and strong heartbeat.

—

Part 2 (just in case you wanna read more about these two)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #demon!bucky #marvel

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arabellasleopardcoat · 7 months

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Violent Delights (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: As a dornish princess, you live by one saying. All is fair in love and war. When Prince Daemon stumbles into your life, you start to reconsider your stance.

Warnings: Fluff. Pining, yearning, childhood crush. Mentions of sex, sexual thoughts, noncon (Baby reader catching Daemon in the act, it doesn't last long, adults intervene) all the usual Daemon warnings.

A/N: Meet dornish reader! I wanted to explore how Daemon can be in character and be with an actual age appropriate woman. Enjoy.

The first time you see Daemon Targaryen, you are twelve years old. Twelve years old and fascinated by the rain. It’s not something you usually see in Dorne, so as you trail your older brother around the Red Keep, you slip away to get a closer look.

You have never been good at orientating yourself, specially in such large spaces. You climb a stair and go in circles, before you decide to start opening doors. Unsure of which wing you are in, you decide to enter the first empty room you see.

Much to your delight, it is a sitting room with large windows. You choose the biggest one, underneath which a tiny windowsill will do quite nicely for a resting place. The window is heavy to your child self, a monstrosity made of a darker wood unseen in Dorne. You manage to pry it open with great effort and sit by it, one hand extended to feel the raindrops.

It's freezing. It feels just like running water does, but much colder. You close your eyes, committing the feeling to memory. In Dorne, desert and sand extends for miles and miles. When it rains, it's never like this. There are small drizzles, but nothing like this absolute downpour.

If it were to rain like this back home, panic would spread among the population. Crops would get ruined, houses would end up sunk in mud. But as you look down, you do not see hurried servants spreading sand or sawwood in the entrances, much less dragging furniture inside. Everything here seems to be built to withstand the climate.

You close your eyes again, feeling utterly at peace. The soft patter of the rain, so frightening at first, now feels much more calming. This is nice. You could get used to this, you think. Perhaps, when you are older, Qoren might marry you off to a kingdom where there is rain. You would like it, you think. It's a very marvelous thing. Majestic, even. There is a certain beauty in the natural forces making themselves known.

The door opens. You startle. When you look up, you are greeted by the sight of a couple kissing passionately. It’s a blonde man, tall and handsome, and a serving girl. Frozen in place, you stay quiet. You aren’t sure what the protocol is for this, if you should clear your throat or walk out quietly.

The couple parts. The man, young, around her age, pushes the woman down to her knees and starts undoing his clothing. He is a noble of some sort, you know it by the gambeson he wears. It's too finely crafted to be otherwise.

And sure, you are dornish. Someone has given you the talk about the birds and the bees already, along with some necessary knowledge of the feminine mystique. It doesn't mean you want to witness an unknown couple going at it.

As you get down from the windowsill, your shoes thud a little too hard on the floor. The woman doesn’t take notice, her mouth already… Well. But the man, blonde, Targaryen blonde, you think, looks up.

At first, it is as if he doesn’t see you. His face is contorted with pleasure, eyes nearly closed. He is beautiful, you think. His features stand out to you, specially because you are not used to people being so…white. The way he is lost in his pleasure, too, speaks to you in ways you can't yet comprehend.

Then, his eyes meet yours and widen. He is surprised at your presence, but it barely lasts. Without any ounce of shame, he gives you a superior smirk and winks.

You shriek. The serving girl pulls off him as if he were on fire. The man groans.

“Shut up, little girl.” He says, to you, as he pulls the serving girl back on. “In a few years, you too will be on your knees for a man.”

“My Prince!” The girl sounds scandalized. You can tell she is on the verge of placing herself between him and you. It's all over on the way she stands, blocking your view of his nakedness. You wonder if she fears damaging your innocence or what the man might do to you in a fit of temper. You have heard these Targaryens are quite spirited. “She is a child!”

“A dornish one.” The man, the Prince, shrugs. “Now, she can either stay or get out, but I am…”

Whatever he is, he doesn’t get to say it. No, because the door opens yet again, slamming against the wall. You startle, and so does the Prince. The serving girl starts quietly weeping, something along the lines of how she is sure she is about to lose her job.

Helplessly, three pairs of eyes shift to the door. There are guards, spears at the ready, at the forefront of it. One of them even drops his weapon, before shielding his eyes.

“What in the…”

The King and your older brother step inside the room, pushing past the men. Your brother's eyes are frantic, his hands reaching desperately for you.

The Prince still has his pants down.

Your brother takes one look at you, and one look at the Prince and loudly declares:

“We are leaving.”

Safe to say, Dorne does not join the other kingdoms that day.

There are many thoughts in your head about Daemon Targaryen after that. That he is handsome, and bold, and you always smile when told of his exploits. It's not a trait you should admire, as a second daughter, but you like his rebelliousness. When he gets the moniker of the Rogue Prince, you think it fitting.

You grow, during those years. You turn into a beautiful woman, sharp and bold, flourishing in the way women do when free to pursue their interests. But in your suitors' eyes, you have one fatal flaw: You live as you please and bed exactly the number of people you desire to bed.

In Daemon's eyes, though, you are a ghost. A memory that haunts him, every once in a while. He has heard of you, of your beauty and independence. He wonders if he was the one to initiate you into the world of pleasure, if that's why you have turned into such a siren. It's not often that Daemon does, but when he wonders, he recalls the face you had made when shattering your innocence.

But you don't know that yet. The more you grow, the more you forget him, even starting to feel a mild annoyance towards his house.

“You can never trust a Martell.” Or so King Viserys said, when your brother's offer to fund his side during the war at the Stepstones reached him. But he certainly finds it convenient because he pockets the gold so fast, one might believe him a dornish lover.

While it was true that you had an unfortunate habit of deceptiveness, it was not as if you changed sides as fast as a viper shed her skin. You only do it twice a year. Every six months is the perfect time to conduct an assessment of your investments.

Because that was what it was. War was no more than profit, for you, and most of the nobles in Westeros. The only difference is that you were much more honest about it than most.

It wasn't necessarily profitable in terms of gold. No, sometimes it meant gaining lands, or getting other kingdoms to respect you, so you could retain your freedom. But regardless of what you were gaining, you tended to look at things in a rather practical way. Some things were worth the sacrifice, some weren't.

Qoren lacked a business instinct. You had told him time and time again that the Triarchy was not a good investment. You would be losing men and funds, only to stick it to the Targaryens. Grievances aside, it was not worth it. You had to think about the good of your people.

Yet no matter how much you insisted, Qoren refused to see reason. Too proud. He had argued that the Iron Throne was going to scam you, in some way or another. When he had finally conceded to jumping ships, you had found out that he might be right.

While much more profitable than your time with the Triarchy, considering that you were now about to win the war, you were pretty sure you were being robbed. The funds you gave them slipped though their fingers faster than sand. They were either very dumb and got duped every time they bought supplies, or they were inflating the costs on purpose.

The deal had been clear. You would foot one quarter of the expenses for the lasts months of the campaign. But it seemed like you were footing the whole war with how much they were asking for.

While Qoren ruled Sunspear, you had always done your best to be involved in his politics as much as you could. Having been raised with the freedom most dorsnishwomen were, you had not been eager to make a political marriage or leave your home for a land that would think you too unconventional. Instead, to guarantee not being sent away, you had endeavored to make yourself as useful as you could.

But as you grew, you had proven to be much more than so. While he had made a good marriage, with a kind woman, she had not been raised in the way that you had been. You had turned indispensable in the ruling of Sunspear, his Lady in all but the fact that you did not share his bed.

It helped that, unmarried as you were, you retained your title. And as the Princess as you were, you didn't stand for being made a fool. That fact, aided by the hot-blooded nature of the Martells, had been what had prompted you to travel by yourself to the war camp.

If the lords loyal to the Iron Throne did, why couldn't you?

Much to your surprise, when you finally arrive at the Stepstones, it seems like the war is over. You find men pillaging the caves where the Crab King kept his few riches. A few wounded lay on the floor, others already taken by the Stranger.

You step in the sand, kicking a few bodies away to make room for yourself. The whole place is a mess. There are some fires going. Some men are rounding up the enemy’s soldiers, either killing them or placing them in chains. You wrinkle your nose in disgust at the smell of blood and burned flesh.

Slowly, you start to make your way forward. You have made sure to be dressed in the bright yellows and oranges of House Martell, to avoid being confused with someone else. The heavy, male boots you are wearing contrast sharply with the daintiness of your attire.

As you make your way forward, some men try to approach you. You gesture to your guards, a second son of House Dayne and a young man by the last name of Sand, to block their paths.

“Who is that?” Some men ask, dumbly. You roll your eyes. What sort of allies were these, that they didn't recognize your standard?

“Hey, Lady, you can’t be here!” And oh, the sheer stupidity of them all. If you didn't know their lords to be much more cunning, this display might have actually led you to believe that they were, in fact, being duped time and time again instead of inflating the cost of supplies.

“… The Maiden…” Now, that one was a bit better. You looked good in your traveling dress, despite the chunky boots.

“What is she..?”

You bat them all away, set on reaching the center of the smoking ruins. You know the men you seek must be there. The faint screeches of dragons tell you that.

Your knights locate a rock for you to sit on. They stand guard, their backs turned to you. You eye the carnage around you and decide that yes, the rock is precisely where you wish to sit. It's high enough that you get a vantage point to watch the terrain, but not too tall you will need aid to get up on it.

When you sit down, carefully spreading your skirts to not let them touch the dirt, someone sits by your side. You don't need to look up to know it's who you seek. Your guards wouldn't have let him approach if he wasn't.

“Quite the entrance.” He says, casually leaving his sword on the sand. “You have grown.”

Pretending not to recognize him, you look at your nails, casually. His voice sounds exactly as you remember it.

“Do I know you?”

“More intimately than you probably wished at the time.” He laughs, and you finally risk your first glance at him. Daemon Targaryen is still in his armor, covered in so much blood he looks positively feral. His hair, in intricate little braids, is as beautiful as you remember, even if limp and tinted red. A shame he will probably have to cut it now because by the looks of it, the blood and sooth are not coming off.

You are no longer a girl of twelve years old, and he is no longer the young Prince you once caught in the act. Yet, he is still disarmingly handsome. Despite the years and the self assuredness you have managed to cultivate, he leaves you weak at the knees.

How could one say this in a polite manner? Daemon had featured in quite a few of your teenage fantasies, as you grew older. After catching him in the act, you had had an interesting conversation with Qoren. It had opened your eyes to a whole new world of pleasure.

Twelve years old was an impressionable age, especially for young maidens. You had flowered not long afterwards your first exposure to sex. Back then, you hadn't understood what you had witnessed properly, but as you grew, your imagination did too. And Dorne was not a place for the shy.

As you started to look at the world with the eyes of a woman, you had experienced your first infatuation, and it had been on him. Never before had you met a northern that was as open-minded about pleasure as Daemon was, and that fact had made you wonder what it would be like to share his bed. And then, the war at the Stepstones had reawakened your teenage urges.

“You!” You play it cool, as if you had not set up this whole thing on the odd chance of getting to see him. Dornishmen were no strangers to pleasure, after all. And you had never been good at denying yourself of anything you wanted. “The boy in the sitting room.”

“The girl at the window.” Daemon conceded, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “And here I thought I would have to lower my pants.”

You snickered. Daemon looked perplexed for a second, before snickering too. You could tell he was impressed by your lack of a reaction to his joke, probably because he had thought it would scandalize you.

The moment is cut short, though, by his own sobering up.

“You shouldn't be here, little dornish girl.”

“Oh?” You extend your legs in front of you, getting comfortable. Will he mention the elephant in the room, or will you have to?

“These men have not seen a woman in months.” Daemon answers, lightly curling his hand over the pommel of his sword. You look around you, noticing that some of the men are, in fact, staring hungrily at you. It's not something that bothers you, any longer. Despite the nickname Daemon has bestowed on you, you are no girl. Younger than him by a few years, you are more of an old maid. You were used to men's attention. As the Princess of Dorne, you had come to expect it.

“And that concerns me, how?” Because there are much more interesting matters you wish to discuss, rather than the ogling of some uncouth northerns. For one, where was your gold going. Second, what were you having for dinner. Third, if he was going to join you.

“Do I really have to explain?” Daemon arches an eyebrow. Deciding to play coy, you give him a sweet look.

“Please. Do not deprive me of the pleasure of your opinions.” And if it comes out a bit ironic, Daemon doesn't seem to notice, too entranced by the way you are twirling one of your dark curls between your fingers.

“Plenty of hungry cats.” He says, as if in a daze. Apparently, Daemon hasn't seen a woman in months either, if seducing him will be this easy. “And you are looking an awful lot like a little mouse.”

You fight the urge to snicker. You were no mouse, but a viper, and you were ready to strike. But if he fancied himself the protector, you didn't mind playing into it.

“Well, good thing you are here. Now they think this little mouse is spoken for.” You run a hand over his arm, softly. Your hands lift a trace of the blood in his armor, leaving behind a drawing made up of empty space.

“Are you?” He arches an eyebrow, unbothered at the contact. You retract your hand, staring at your now bloody fingernails.

A scattering of images comes to mind. Maidenheads, bloody sheets. The girl you were at twelve. The man he is now. Your nails scratching lines on his back, biting at his throat, nipping at his lips. Unable to connect the thoughts, you let them go until only a pleasant smile remains.

“Are you a hungry cat?”

“No, little mouse.” Daemon tucks a loose curl behind your ear. As his hand comes down, he caresses your neck, lightly. It's barely a brush of his fingertips, yet your breath falters. He leans in, as if sharing a secret. His next words come out in a whisper. “I am a hungry dragon.”

Predictable, if a bit witty. Targaryens and their dragons. Despite it, you enjoy how much of an effort he is putting in. As a Martell, people often expect you to do all the seducing, not noticing you like being seduced as well. It's good that someone finally acknowledges it takes two to dance.

“That explains the never-ending appetite.” You tease, leaning towards him as well. The sun is starting to settle around you, some of his men lighting fires. They do not seem about to stop their pillaging. You wonder if Corlys Velaryon is near, and if so, why he doesn't stop them.

“You have no idea.” His voice is low and smooth. His hand is still on your loose curl, lower, this time. Barely touching your collarbone. His eyes are dark, and you doubt it is from the change in lighting. "A taste would never satiate me.”

“Shame. Little mice make for small bites, I think.” Your lips quirk up at the corners, barely suppressing a laugh. Expert in denial as you are, you know now is the time to retreat. You want him hooked on you so badly, he never sees your next move.

“I would make sure to do so very slowly. Savor it.” Daemon's thumb rubs just between your collarbones, tracing a path towards the valley of your breasts. You move away before he can reach it.

“Maybe, hungry cat.” You stress the last word, already knowing how you will lead Daemon into your trap. It will only take a few well-placed prods at his ego.

“Hungry dragon.” He repeats, a bit annoyed. The idea that you do not recognize him by his proper title upsets him. You laugh.

“Oh, but you look like a starved cat. A stray.”

“I am no stray.” Daemon complains. You arch an eyebrow, coolly.

“What else is a Prince doing fighting a war so far from home?”

Daemon stares at you. You are willing to admit it was quite mean on your part. Perhaps a tad too vicious. But you have yet to accomplish what you wish to, hence why you take it even further.

“You have until tomorrow to deposit the gold you have stolen from us in coffers.”

His whole face shifts, flirty expression replaced by a mask of indifference that is not fooling anyone. Caught off guard by your words, Daemon resorts back to his only defense mechanism.

“And if I don't?” He thrusts his chin up, defiant.

“You will find yourself at war with Dorne.” Your tone is even. Your voice doesn't waver, as if you were discussing the weather and not defying a kingdom much larger than yours.

“And you will declare war with two knights?” Daemon laughs.

“Have you met Dalton Greyjoy, perhaps?” You lean back on the rock, tilting your face up to the sun. Soaking in it. “Awfully young ironborn. Eager to prove himself, much more so if it's to beautiful women. Or so I hear.”

“You have allied yourself with the Iron Islands?”

You say nothing. Instead, you give him an enchanting tilt of the head, as if he was no more than one of your suitors. Your lips stretch into a coy little smile, one that tells him you have a secret he is not privy to.

“I do not believe you.” Daemon shakes his head. He crosses his arms over his chest, before uncrossing them and shaking his head yet again. Stunned. “No. Prince Qoren would never allow it.”

“Qoren would not?” You repeat, mockingly. “And pray tell, since when do you know him so well?”

“Do you know why he dropped the Triarchy?” The question is unexpected. Before this, you had not bothered to wonder about your brother's motives. Used as you were at things going your way, you had assumed Qoren had seen the wisdom of your advice and decided to take it.

“Because I told him it was a bad investment.” You answer, refusing to back down. What could Daemon Targaryen know of the motivations of a prince of Dorne? Nothing. He had to be bluffing, searching for a weakness he could exploit to get out of this.

“Because the Crab King, over there…” Daemon gestures vaguely in the direction of the corpses. “Had eyes that lingered too much on you. And if this Greyjoy boy is the same…”

You blink a few times. It makes sense. The Crab King had never tried to seduce you, yet you know men like that are not used to asking. Instead, they order. You can only guess the face Qoren made when faced with such a demand. He is as proud as you are.

Daemon could be lying, of course. Trying to make you doubt Qoren. Divide and conquer, and all that. You can't let that happen. Everyone knows the two of you are a team. Whatever grievances you have to air with him, they will be on private. You tuck away the piece of information for later, and focus on what's in front of you.

“If Qoren is willing to turn into a turncloak for my sake…” You narrow your eyes at Daemon, menacingly. You know as well as him that the easiest way to stop you is to hurt you. Kill you, perhaps. But it would mean war. “Think of what he will do to you, if you hurt me.”

“You will have your coffers tomorrow, Princess.” Daemon says, bitterly. He knows he has lost. You outmaneuvered him. House Martell has never bowed to dragons. If Daemon declares war on Dorne, his brother will pull the support from the Iron Throne. Corlys Velaryon will not want to get involved, no matter how much he has benefitted from their plot. He cannot wage war alone.

You get up. You dust off your skirts.

“Good. And make sure you bathe before touching the gold. Wouldn't want you staining it.”

You do go back to Dorne with a chest full of gold, and then some. As it seems to be a tendency with Daemon, you almost forget all about him before he is barging into your life again.

It happens on an odd afternoon, while you are trying to broker a deal with a foreign King. The tart taste of the berries makes you scrunch up your face. It's more acidic than what you are used to, but good nonetheless. You smile at the King in front of you. He looks on the verge of drooling.

“I am glad you like it, my Princess.” He simpers. “I must say the shade compliments your caramel skin quite well.”

Caramel. Ugh. How you hate when men compare you to food. It's always your caramel skin, your cherry lips, your golden eyes. Can they get more unoriginal?

You beg to the skies for fortitude. This alliance is important, you remind yourself. Qoren needs them, Dorne needs them. They grow more fruit than you could ever hope for.

As it often happens, your prayers are heeded in a way you could not have expected.

“Princess.” A guard suddenly sprints into the room. “There is a situation at the gates. Prince Qoren needs you.”

You spring up from your seat so fast, one might think there were needles on your cushion.

“I apologize, my King. The berries were lovely. Perhaps you could send some more? For the people?”

“Oh, I understand.” The King gives a jovial laugh. “Duty calls and all. You are right, I shall send you…”

“Good.” You cut him off, and walk out of the parlor. As you start to reach the gates, you slow down your walk. You can't have Qoren thinking you rushed to his side, after all.

“Have you developed some sort of mind reading ability?” Qoren turns at your words. He is facing the gates, right in the middle of the watchtower. It's not an actual watchtower, but rather a ledge on one of your lower walls, right aside to the actual tower. Its slightly off center position allows for a better view of the gates, despite not being very high.

“What's that supposed to mean?” He asks, reclining precariously. Your stomach turns. This is a recurring occurrence, Qoren watching from places he is not supposed to. You often fear he will fall to his death, yet he has yet to even slip. He is noisy enough to not care about the dangers of the world.

“You knew I needed an out, I gather.” You keep your tone flat. While you enjoyed being his right hand, you disliked that so many of your allies thought flirting was the way to do business.

“I didn't. Come here and take a look.” Qoren sounds uninterested in your grievances, which is highly unusual for him. Whatever he is looking at must be fascinating. You start climbing the steps, aided by the guard that led you here. You try to do so gracefully, but it's daunting in a dress as the one you wear.

“How did you even get up here?” You huff, crouching on the ledge before slowly starting to stand.

“Invaders.” Qoren says, unbothered. You nearly fall off, shrieking. The guard pushes you upright again.

“At ease, Princess. We got you.” He says. “Look closer.”

So you do. You narrow your eyes at the horizon, and what you can see of the gate. You can barely make out a giant red blur. A dragon, perhaps? One you already know, by the eerie calm he is sporting.

You only know one dragon. It happens to be red.

“What did you do to that man?” Qoren laughs. Your mouth opens and closes. It has been almost two moons since you departed from the Stepstones, half of the gold you had originally given to the Iron Throne back with you.

You had gone on with your life. Taken a few lovers, here and there. Ate good food. Pawned off resources for alliances. You know, the typical. Daemon Targaryen, though, clearly has not. Because he now stands at the gates of Sunspear, dragon in tow.

“Nothing. Nothing, I swear.” You reply to Qoren, still open-mouthed. “Is he trying to declare war?”

Qoren laughs at you, poking you in the ribs. You squirm away, before remembering you are standing on a ledge. You slap his arm.

“Don't do that! We could fall!”

“The only falling being done here is that dragon prince for you, dear sister.”

“Huh?” You frown, confused. What is he on about? Despite your desire to bed Daemon, you had walked away from the meeting with the certainty that he was not interested in you. You were not a maiden like the ones he chased, nor were you young, and you had done a good job of alienating him after threatening him with war. This could not be a mere visit, for you had parted on bad terms.

But Qoren doesn't answer. He only raises his voice slightly.

“Truss him up in chains!” The order is clearly not meant for you. “And place him on the Princess' solar.”

“What are you doing?” You ask, bewildered, as the guards hurry to carry out his order.

“I'll give you a chance to deal with him.” Qoren says, mysteriously. “I think he is about to ask for your hand.” And with an agile jump, he is off the ledge and getting down the wall. You scramble to follow.

“Qoren!” You scream, nearly falling off in your haste. He is too fast for you, already entering the palace. The guard steadies you again, and you gather your skirts and run after him, but it's too late. You do not know which direction he has turned. “Qoren, what do you mean by that? Have you spoken to him? He asked you for… Qoren, dammit!”

His cheery voice reaches your ears.

“Do try to get rid of him, alright? We can't have our people thinking we have been invaded.”

You chase after the sound, but he is gone. You could follow him to the throne room, but you decide for the more amusing option. No matter if Qoren is teasing about the marriage proposal, you decide to go and freshen up a bit. It will take a long time for the guards to subdue Daemon, and to drag him inside. Plenty of advice for you to change clothes.

Be it for declaring war, or rejecting a marriage proposal, you like to be well-dressed for the occasion. You take your time choosing your outfit, strapping a tiny dagger to your thigh.

Only when an hour has passed, you walk towards your solar. There are a few knights stationed outside, one of them being your Dayne companion. He approaches you cautiously.

“The Prince left instructions for us to enter at your call. One scream, Princess, and we will be in there before he can draw his sword.”

He sounds worried. It's actually kind of sweet.

“Don't worry. He won't hurt me.”

But despite your words, as soon as you enter your solar, you are grabbed harshly by the arm. You look up to find Daemon not only free from chains, but furious.

Perhaps the guards thought it would not be very diplomatic to chain him up. A shame. You jerk off his grip, and go serve yourself some wine. It's a very neat trick, one you have learned from the men in your life. One must let the other do all the nagging while pretending to be entirely innocent, so they sound insane. Often, it leads to the person reproaching you actually thinking they are going mad. You only use it when you feel particularly cruel.

"You took your time.” Daemon follows you, stomping and huffing. “I have been waiting for nearly an hour.”

“I was not decent. I had to change into my afternoon clothes.” You give a little twirl, enjoying the luxurious feel of the skirt against your body. You know it will only anger him further. “Do you like them?”

“You have some nerve.” Daemon scoffs. You offer him a goblet of wine, which he takes. “Do you know what men say of you?”

“Does a viper pay attention to the mumbling of worms?” Your voice is calm and sweet. In truth, you do pay a attention to what they say. Who doesn't? But Daemon doesn't need to know that for the game you are playing.

“You are hardly a viper.” His eyes narrow at you, in a flutter of pretty lashes and lilac. Good Gods, what right does he have to be so handsome. You hate him.

“I like to think I am one.” You drink from your wine, giving him a coy little look over the rim of your goblet.

“They say you are a witch. That you place your spell on them and have them dancing at your tune.” He complains, gruffly. So far, he seems very angered by you, which is fair considering the way you parted. What makes no sense is the fact that he has come this far to make his displeasure known.

“It's not my fault men are often led by their cocks.” You shrug. It's rather crass, but you are unbothered by it. If men are allowed to speak how they please, why shouldn't you?

“Perhaps not.” Daemon cocks his head. “But I do wish to ask something of you.”

“Oh?”

Daemon places his goblet down. He plucks yours from your fingers, all soft movements. He raises your hand to his lips, and kisses your palm. His eyes never leave yours.

“Remove your spell from me.”

You laugh. You stare at him as if he has two heads. You laugh some more.

"I'm serious. You have bewitched me. Ensnared me with your charms and feminine…” He lets go of your hand, angrily gesturing. The laughter dies in your throat. Daemon is not joking.

“I have what?” You repeat, confused. Now you are actually thinking him a madman.

“You have made it so I can't lie with another woman. I only get relief when I think of you. Remove your spell, or I shall…” And it's too good, too much of a joke not to laugh. You restrain yourself, knowing angering him more could be bad for your health.

“You shall what?” Despite your attempts, your amusement must show because Daemon grabs you by the shoulders and gives you a tiny shake. It's not enough to hurt you, but it startles you into seriousness.

“I have never wanted a woman as much as I want you.” His eyes do not show the emotion his words imply. While his face reflects need, Daemon has not drank nearly enough to have such a loose tongue. Something is amiss. “Let me have you. If you don't remove your spell, I need to have you.”

His eyes don't show need, but eagerness. He is trying to manipulate you. The thought of him implying that you must let him have you makes your blood boil. You are angered beyond belief. Has he really come all this way to make some half-assed marriage proposal, in the hopes of trapping you with him? Who does he think he is dealing with?

If you were another woman, more inexperienced, you would let this man manipulate you right into his bed. But you are not. You are old enough to know that lust can be cured with a few well-placed hot baths and enough time and distance. His excuses are a poor attempt. You almost prefer the other men's simpering.

“I am no witch, you fool. Now, out!” You point at the door.

Daemon straightens. He eyes you carefully.

“I need you.” He repeats. It's clearly a lie. You wonder what else is, too. Is it odd to feel flattered by him being so set on you, he is willing to manipulate you into marriage?

“You do not. There is nothing interesting here, go find a whore.” You cross your arms over your chest. Your traitorous heart seems to disagree. You don't want him to leave, says the heat in your cheeks. Not yet, answers the harsh ring of your pulse in your ears.

“I do.” Daemon steps closer. He seems slightly unsure and that is what gives him away. If you are trying to manipulate someone, you have to go all in. You can't hesitate because they call your bluff. His seduction techniques need serious work. “You have to let me have you.”

“I don't have to do anything.” You scowl at him, getting right up on his face. To you, it doesn't matter if you are shorter, you will put the fear of the gods in him or so the Seven help you. “And I do not believe a word you say. If you wanted me to fuck you, you could have merely asked. I do not appreciate you trying to manipulate me. I do not need to be coerced into it, I am no maiden.”

“And if I were to ask?” His nose brushes against yours, tenderly. Daemon's eyes have turned dark, his body nearly vibrating in excitement at your anger. You had heard Targaryens had queer customs, but had not expected him to be so aroused after getting yelled at.

“Too late, out!” You push your index finger into his chest, hard. Daemon smirks. He takes a step forward, forcing you to back off or get your finger crushed.

“You said I had to only ask for what I want.” He gets closer still, backing you against a wall. “No more games.”

“No more games.” You agree, a bit shakily. He noses along your temple, softly. You look up at him, all big, surprised eyes. How has he turned the whole situation into his favor so fast? And when, exactly, did you lose control?

“I want to know what is behind your eyes.” Daemon presses a soft kiss to your brow, then to your eye. You let go of the breath you are holding, eyes fluttering closed. Your lips tingle with the urge to be kissed, alight with the rush that comes from being seduced. But you do not intend to make it easy for him, no. He can't just expect you to submit just because he asks.

“No, thank you.” You duck beneath his arm, leaving behind your moment of weakness. He still tried to manipulate you, after all. He deserves a bit of suffering.

“What do you fear?” Daemon grabs your arm, pulling you towards him. He nuzzles your neck. “It certainly isn't modesty, you said so yourself. You are no blushing virgin.”

“I do not want to marry you.” You jerk free of his grip.

“Perhaps, you think I would enjoy you less. Or you fear I might not like what hides behind your eyes.” He kisses right behind your ear, softly hugging you to him. “The thoughts you have… The things you crave…” His hand traces an upward path, from your belly button to your collarbones. “To me, it only means you are already mine.”

“I'm not interested.” You say, but your whole body is saying yes. You just can't help it. His attention is overwhelming. His hands are gripping at your waist, your hips, everywhere. You shake against him as if you were an innocent still, and not a woman seasoned in the arts of love.

“I made you like this.” Daemon presses scorching hot kisses against your neck. You wonder if all Targaryens run as hot as this one. “Do you remember, little dornish girl?”

“You did not.” You pull away once more, and grab your wine again. You take a hearty sip. The memory you have obsessed over is one he has thought of too. Daemon had awoken something in you that rainy afternoon, and it's clear you had done the same to him.

“I taught you something, even if unwillingly. I always wondered, when I heard of your exploits, if you thought of me too.” And you have. Oh, how badly have you thought of running into him and bedding him, but you are not willing to admit it. You know if you look at him, you will give yourself away, so you keep stubbornly looking somewhere else.

Daemon chuckles.

“Let me see those eyes.” He gently grabs your jaw and lifts your head up. “Ah. So I was right.”

Furious at being caught, you place one of your hands on his hair and tug. Hard. Hard enough to force him to expose his neck.

“How do you feel about my eyes now?” You snarl.

“They are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Daemon's brows are pinched together, his back slightly arched. Your punishing grip on his hair is hurting him, and you are glad for it. Yet, his lips are parted as if experiencing the sweetest delights. “They are those of a woman in the throes of passion.”

“Do not test me.” You warn, forcing him to his knees. He goes willingly.

Daemon reaches up slowly, his much bigger hand curling around your wrist. He coaxes you to let go, softly massaging.

“I can taste the arousal cursing through your blood, Princess.” He pulls you into him, until both of you are sprawled out on the floor. “I see how your chest heaves, how your breath is getting heavier, how your lips plump… You are excited.”

“So what if I am?” You huff. It's all cornered animal. You cannot deny it any longer, you want him too badly for it.

“It means you and me… We are the same.” And he finally kisses you. His mouth meets yours in a hungry kiss, into which you pour all your frustration. But Daemon coaxes you to go slower, to kiss more passionately instead of hurriedly.

“I want you.” He says, when you part. His forehead rests against yours. “Let me keep you. Be mine. A woman as bloodthirsty as you cannot stay alone forever.” As he lays you down on the floor, as he gets on top of you and his hands pin yours down. “Let me keep you.”

And this time, you say yes.

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hiaon · 1 month

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hello mister!

would you ever be up to writing a story Mulan-like style, in which a country is at war and young adults who are alphas go to fight, and for some reason omega!male!reader decides to pass as an alpha (or even a beta who volunteered instead of getting drafted) and goes to war. Perhaps even before a battle, maybe when the troops are still training, his commander (an alpha dilf who is like 35 while reader is like 20) finds out that the reader is an omega while he’s in heat and he just goes on to breed the reader, maybe even get his poor subordinate knocked up?

Dubcon if you want, but if you’re not comfortable with it, do whatever you want!!

Sorry for this :p and thanks for reading!

'Helping'

Commander x Male! Bottom! Reader

Also this was a very great idea. I had to write it as fast as possible.. But I took forever so 🤡🤡

Disclaimer: Dubcon, fingering, Corruption kink.

Should I write more in 1st person POV? It's been a while... I should have made this 1st person POV.. Nvm.. Next suggestion or my own story. I'll make it 1st person POV.

It was hard enough to be accepted to go out to war. But somehow your secondary gender made it worst, you we're in heat and don't know what to do.

Secondary genders are the once that makes sure either your going to be in a comfortable position or you suffer. Beta makes up 60% of the world. Alphas are the most respected secondary gender, either a man or a woman, you are still guaranteed to have a happy life.

While.. Omegas are that everybody finds charming when the omega is a women. But not a man, imagine when a man giving birth.. It's just ruin the reputation and image of a man. So when they figure out when a boy is an omega.. They usually just forcefully take them. But your a lucky one.

Your father had this magical pill that you still don't know where the origins of, make you take them everyday so you'll seem more like an beta.

So some people seemed confused that you look so feminine. But they eventually brushed it off.

Thanks to the pills that your father gave to you every day your scent just seems like any other beta. Until, your father was being forced to serve the kingdom and fight for war. You wasn't an option because betas are only 21 and above only, you we're only 20 at that time, and most importantly the standard recruitment is that you have to be an alpha. Your father was an alpha.

Your father had 2 days until he goes to the troops camp. But you we're stubborn, you wanted your father to have happy days, and have peace. So you took your father's place. Also took all the pills that you had which was 3 months worth of the pills, but also you knew it wasn't going to last long.

But you kept your Identity safe. But they we're confused on why you had such an feminine body. It eventually toned down with that.

But you eventually befriend 3 humble looking fellows and, you manage to get close with the commander not because of great communication.. Its because on how much you get hurt when practicing.. Which was a lot of times.

You noticed that you he was in the infirmary tent a lot. You sometimes start small-talks, he speaks so little so you eventually just stopped.

You and your teammates we're preparing to attack tomorrow, so you guys we're prepping the swords, armor, shield and ect... Meanwhile you we're done with preparing with the things needed, you decided to take a bath since you always talk the bath last. It's just more comfortable that way.

While you we're bathing you felt something weird. In your stomach area. It started to burn you never experienced this your whole life, is it because you stopped taking the pills? More likely ran out of it.

You never forgot to take the pills, because your father say so, so this what happens when you skip..?

You started to feel cold on how hot you we're getting, the new sensations makes you less aware that somebody was entering the water with you.

"[Y/N]" that voice startled you.

"O-oh!." You really needed something. You just didn't know why.

"[Y/N] I have been wanting to ask you something for quite some time." Your Comander said after briefly saying— "Are you truly a beta?"

The commander looked like he wants answers.

You couldn't contain it anymore and to had no shame in asking it was too cold for and hot at the same time—

"Command.. Commander.. Can you please hu.. hug me.!" The commander was stunned for a moment, and hugged him all of the sudden.

"I know now, I know what you are." The commander picked you up in a bride style and put on a towel on to your body and coving you face along with it.. Yes, he was walking naked towards his tent. No one was allowed in there. But it seems like you was going to be in that tent for a while.

You just feel that some people saw but the commander did not give two shits about them.

He just kept on walking to the tent, as if he wasn't at all naked at all..

He placed you into— you assumed his bed.

"Do you even know how to take care of your heat?" The Commander asked you. But to be honest, you don't know even what a heat is.

"Uhm." As you we're trying to answer, the commander was still standing up while getting in between your legs.

"You don't have to answer that, besides, I like it that way." The commander said while spreading his way to you hole, and your slick made it less painful. So that's why it's there.

"W-what are you doing Ack!" The commander's fingers keeps on going deeper than it should. When he hit the spot you made a lot of noise, so he kept hitting it.

"Ahh.! Commande-er.! Please stop!" You said that but you really didn't want him to stop. This was the thing you didn't know you needed the most.

"Mhm.." The commander took out his two fingers and licked it. It was kind of embarrassing for him to do that, and you don't even know the reason.

"Try telling me if it hurt or not okay?" The commander told you as he aligned his member to your hole.

"Wha-" You stopped mid sentence when you see that his member trying to enter your small hole.

"Commander.. That thing isn't going to fit me.." You got a little scared.

"Don't worry, it will." The commander said with confidence.

It took some time to get used to his size. But when you did you two we're like bunnies in heat, but you literally are.

After he came two times, and you came 4 times you guys cleaned each other in the river. He insisted for you to sleep in his tent but he already did do much for you, you we're embarrassed to take too much.

So you declined and you tried to sleep in your bed, but you couldn't on how much happened today...

But now you know where to go after when you're in heat.

Little skit:

A little while after you lay down in your bed you, you hear people come in.

A trio walked to their beds and sat down. A guy broke the silence.

"Hey man, did you see that the Commander had brought a woman in his tent!" [F/N](1) said wanting to talk about the situation.

"Yeahh it's no doubt that it was woman! I mean.. Did you see those smooth long legs!?" [F/N](2) said.

You just pretended you weren't there...

"People! You don't know if that woman is Commander's wife!? You'll get killed immediately if Commander finds out you know!!" [F/N](3) said in an annoyed voice, he just didn't want rumors to spread about that poor woman..

"Oh. my. shit, your right I better go to sleep and pretend I saw nothin'..." [F/N](2) said and immediately fell asleep.

"Seriously, how does he do that.." [F/N] (1) staring blandly at the sleeping man who was talking a lot about 5 seconds ago..

"Some kind of super power of something.." [F/N](3) said while he was sitting and preparing to sleep.

You pretend that you didn't hear any of that.

#oc x male reader #x male reader #x you #oneshot #gay #male reader smut #smut #omegaverse #bxb smut #bxb

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scarapanna · 1 month

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The main premise and events in the Intertwined Opposites AU

It's finally here!!!

I've managed to finally make a proper info post for my personal take on this silly possession AU craze as I've planned to do for a while since I'm totally normal about this concept (lie) /silly

Before proceeding, keep in mind that this post is gonna be pretty long as I'll be diving into important story events troughout the first half of it, so it gets the read more treatment as usual!!

There will be no crk spoilers here (except for the beast-yeast episodes), just a ""prologue" to current narrative events in the AU

•The beginning•

Everything starts in beast-yeast, once peace has been returned to the fairie kingdom

Now that the area is mostly free from danger with the silver tree's seal being properly mended, the crowd decides to start repairs and preparations to further celebrate everyone's victory for the remainder of the day.

However, as everyone starts to leave the area, something starts creeping out from the shadows created by the tree's roots

Turns out that Shadow Milk, now severely weakened from the blow taken in battle, has managed to flee from being forced back into his prison once more.

During Lily's blast of magic, he essentially "split" and discarded part of his own power as a last resort, separating what was already being sucked into the renewed seal from himself to avoid getting dragged into containment once more.

Unfortunately for the beast, both his panicked and sloppy procedure combined with the added strenght of the new guardian's spell left him with a very poor amount of strenght, with it not being enough for anything useful.

Needless to say, his mind is filled with hatred and anger as soon as he emerges

he can't really do much with this state, and thus lingers on formulating a plan to get what he wanted from the start, but how?

How would he get back on track, rid himself of the guardian, and break the seal once more like this?

The answer eventually comes to him, just right on top of a bridge alongside the one who restored his prison.

His souljam, the one he was once the owner of

Now "purified" and held by Pure Vanilla, it binds the two together with the virtue of knowledge, split in the lights of truth and deceit during the purification process.

These lights are owned by the beast, and the figure by the bridge in front of him, yet come from the same thing.

Shadow Milk has finally decided on a proper plan.

◆ What comes after and what it leads to ◆

Days pass, turning into a few weeks and ending with a trip back home to take a break and write down what happened during the beast-yeast expedition.

Everything seems to have gone well in the end, yet something still feels..wrong?

It's not the best term for it, but does the job well enough.

The vanilla kingdom is peaceful, and Pure Vanilla's return safe and sound brings back some joy to the citizens.

Yet it just doesn't feel right, he doesn't know what precisely, but the ancient is riddled with an odd feeling almost like being watched.

He might not realise it for now, but he had been right. Someone has been following him inside the castle for the entire duration of the trip.

Pure Vanilla slowly grows more wary as days pass, and his doubts are confirmed as Shadow Milk's idea is proven successful.

In the void Pure Vanilla is confronted by Shadow Milk cookie, he spills everything he's done without esitating twice, as there's no reason to hide it anymore.

Shadow Milk had always been there ever since the re-sealing of the tree, following Pure Vanilla and draining magic at a slow enough rate to not be noticed, until it was enough to take over his body without trouble.

Now that he had a "vessel" to work with, he could keep recharging power and be finally able to do his bidding.

He's questioned multiple times by Pure Vanilla, but he wouldn't budge, and the ancient manages to gather only their location and a few loose details.

This was not a void, this was a ""mind space"" where he was bound to stay while shadow milk used his body as a disguise, and he could not use magic to fight back against the beast.

Being out of options, Pure Vanilla quickly tries to think over what to do, and lingers over the situation to come up with something.

Shadow Milk proposes an idea to Pure Vanilla, sharing the vessel that both are confined in, to be sure he doesn't get caught.

This is only to one condition: the ancient must work in favour of the beast under it's watchful sight at all times

The Ancient complies, and a deal is sealed.

It's not a loss nor a victory, only a beginning

◆The current situation◆

Now that the main prologue is set, what happens precisely to both?

So, Shadow Milk cookie is essentially ""possessing"" Pure Vanilla, but not completely.

The two switch up control of the ancient's body in certain times of the day and night, sometimes Pure Vanilla is granted the lead and when he's not needed Shadow Milk takes it. He's pretty much using the ancient as a puppet, a disguise and a tool for his own gain, assigning him certain tasks so that his plan will work as intended.

Whenever one of them is not in control of their shared ""vessel"", they're send in the mindspace until the shift of control takes place and so on. Shadow milk never gives Pure Vanilla full "freedom" or personal space, having control of the shifts in lead and constantly keeping the ancient under watch trough mirrors and reflective surfaces (The only moments in which he's given alone time is when the beast is asleep in the mind space to retain magic).

The ancient, on the other hand, accepted Shadow Milk's offer right away without esitation, but for a much different reason.

Pure vanilla is trying to get the best out of his situation, and thus feels forced to go against his own morality to keep cookies safe and attempt to alarm them trough hints and hidden messages scattered in the kingdom.

Even if he doesn't like the means, what else could he do to keep everyone safe?

The difficulty of his situation causes him great stress and paranoia, which worsens as time goes on and Shadow Milk regains his powers bit by bit, making his actions more difficult to get away with unnoticed.

Here's some more info regarding the effects of sharing a vessel in two:

• Pure Vanilla and Shadow Milk's connection by souljam makes sharing a body possible, otherwise it would be fatal to most cookies (As they're not made to be vessels).

• The slit in the souljam is a shared element which hints at Shadow milk's presence in both, during control shifts it flickers in different shades of gray.

• Remaining on the topic, control shifts are not plesant in the slightest to both parties involved, being defined by acute physical pain on the area covered by the souljam. This is inflicted on the current cookie in charge of the vessel during the shift, fading away only when back in the mindspace.

•The two can see eachother and comunicate trough reflective surfaces, with them displaying the current entity in the mindspace instead of the one leading the vessel.

• Pure Vanilla's voice sounds somewhat overlapped or distorted when shadow milk is in charge of his body, he can't change this aspect unfortunately for him.

• Certain factors like hunger and thirst are shared between the two due to their predicament, they can sometimes be heard debate over what to eat and when during the day.

• Sleep in the traditional sense is the only factor distinct to the two instead of being shared, as it's strictly based on "individual energy" rather than "shared energy"

#RAAA IT'S FINALLY OUTTT #The first 3 panels are kinda old now but that's okay #the art gradually gets higher in quality I promise/silly #cookie run kingdom #pure vanilla cookie #beetle's art #shadow milk cookie #crk au #intertwined opposites au #cw scopophobia #cw eye contact #just to be sure #in some panels sm stares at pv but it's from “pv's pov” soo #I'll give this a final check for any grammatical issues tomorrow #I listened to some jekyll and hide broadway songs while making this au and imploded can you tell/silly #long post

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neerons · 2 months

Text

Some of Chevalier Michel’s best quotes

“You have plenty of time. Therefore, it’s not necessary to overload yourself to the point of harming your health just for the sake of learning. I’m not in a hurry. I’ll wait patiently for you to reach your full potential.”

“I don’t mind making you my woman.”

“If you value your life, trust no one.”

“Allowing their deaths to be in vain would be an affront to those who utterly devoted themselves to the kingdom.” (—Chevalier talking about the dead soldiers to Emma)

“That’s how values work. Just because two ways of thinking are incompatible doesn’t mean one is right and the other is wrong.”

“If you ever feel like crying, tell me. I’ll torment you so thoroughly that you’ll forget how to cry.”

“Until I’d met her, I’d never have considered letting another person touch me.” (—Chevalier’s thoughts about Emma)

“Can a man read in peace without you staring at his face?”

“Don't... say another man's name... so much. It grates on my ears.”

“You're quite graceless, you know? Your legs seem to be shaking.”

“You are my queen. It does not matter how many years go by, I have no intention of loving any other woman.”

“If the rabbit has time to spend with you, she'll spend it with me instead.” (—Chevalier talking about Emma to Clavis)

“I had no intention of letting anyone complain about a commoner being in a relationship with royalty, and it didn't bother me, either.” (—Chevalier's thoughts)

“What might your hand be doing in your pocket? I dare you to throw one of those concoctions of yours at me. Just know I will kick you into the next century.” (—Chevalier to Clavis)

“Maids are servants. They follow their master or mistress' orders, thus creating a clear discrepancy in power. But I do not wish you to be below me. What I desire is for us to be equals, serving each other in a cooperative and mutual manner.”

"...Now that I think about it, I was rather fond of you from the very beginning. (...) To begin with... is there any man who would barge into the room of a woman he doesn't like? The palace is huge. There are many places... where I could go to spend leisure time, instead of expressly going to your room."

"You look terrible. (...) There's no need to feel ashamed. Not everything that has value is beautiful."

"You're the one at fault for leaving the covenant YOU created so open to interpretation. A shame." (—Chevalier to Sariel)

"Currently, a servant manages the palace library, but he's no expert, so his work is sloppy. I've been dissatisfied with it for a while now, but... you're proficient at handling books, yes?"

"It's not that you 'can' stay by my side, it's that you 'will' stay by my side."

"(...) Do you think I would allow you to die so easily after you laid a hand on my lover? (...) I've said as much before, but dying is not what you should be doing. What you should be doing is returning home to your loved ones, no matter how shameful you look." (—Chevalier to Flandre)

"Ever since I was a child, love had been the one thing I was most indifferent to. (...) My one and only reason is that I wanted to know what love was. Ridiculous, I know."

"I'm not so famished that I'd eat something I don't need. ...I want you so much that I could just eat you all up right now."

"(...) Any guest of Emma's is a guest of mine as well." (—Chevalier talking about an enemy to Clavis)

#might add more later #chevalier michel #ikepri chevalier michel #ikemen prince #ikemen series #quotes #cybird #otome game #cybird otome

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hyperactively-me · 4 months

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king!ghost x reader -- duties

warnings: none

Five months.

Five months, two weeks, three days, and seven hours since he’s been gone.

More weeks pass, and you’ve fallen into your role quite comfortably. You have no more troubles juggling daily tasks, council meetings, and managing the kingdom’s affairs. The weight of your responsibility has become a familiar companion, and you navigate the challenges with a grace born from necessity. Yet, Simon’s absence has gnawed you to your bones.

You were barred from stepping even a single toe outside of the castle gates, confined to the castle walls. It had frustrated you to no end, but you understood where the concern stemmed from. Obviously.

The war continues, and each day brings its own set of difficulties. The reports from the front lines aren’t as optimistic as they once were, but there’s still a glimmer of hope. The Southern Kingdom persists in its aggressive pursuit, but Kastron’s forces stand resilient. Simon’s letters start to arrive at irregular intervals, long stretches of time going by without hearing from him.

It makes you nervous, only receiving letters every three to four weeks instead of the usual once a week.

Your worry etches lines on your face as you pore over the maps and reports. The uncertainty of Simon’s safety hangs heavy in the air, and the constant dread becomes a silent companion in your daily life. Your familiar routine is resolutely tainted with the anxiety of the unknown.

Soap remains a steadfast friend, standing by your side throughout the days. Some days, you don’t really see him, other days he’s practically glued to your side. He’s become not just a protector, knight, and guard, but someone you can be vulnerable with. A true friend.

One evening, as you sit in the dining room with Soap, a familiar voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Your Majesty, a messenger has arrived with urgent news,” announces a royal guard, stepping into the room.

You look up, setting down your fork. You have to take a breath, wanting to groan about how you haven’t had a moment of peace in months.

You know Soap is already running through strategies in his mind, wanting to take some of the burden off of you.

“What news do they bring?” you ask wearily.

The guard hesitates before delivering the message. “The Southern Kingdom has launched a major offensive. Our forces are engaged in battle, and we need reinforcements.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. The war has escalated, and the threat to Kastron has never been more imminent. Soap’s expression darkens as he stands by your side, exchanging a glance that conveys the gravity of the situation.

“We need to act quickly,” Soap says, his voice steady. “I’ll gather our forces here and organize them to be sent to the front lines immediately.”

He stands from his seat, his armor clinking as he moves. The urgency in his demeanor is quite apparent, and you nod in agreement. Soap’s efficiency and decisiveness makes you feel slightly better, knowing that he’s capable. As Soap departs to mobilize the forces, you rise from your seat. The familiar routine of your ruling takes over, and you find yourself issuing orders to prepare for the impending conflict.

. . .

Later in the week, you’re faced with more harrowing news of villages spread throughout Kastron who were unfortunately caught in the crossfire of the war.

The reports of the collateral damage weigh heavily on your heart. Villages once filled with life and laughter are now marred by the scars of war. The people, innocent bystanders caught in the turmoil, look to you for guidance and aid.

Now, more than ever, you’re spending all of your effort in your waking hours to provide them with relief. The castle’s war room became a somber gathering place as you, Soap, and key advisors discuss what supplies and support is to be sent to the villagers.

“I will not let my own people suffer,” you declare, determination burning in your eyes. “We must send help to these villages immediately. Food, medical supplies—whatever they need. I want it done, now.”

Many advisors nod in agreement. “We’ll organize relief efforts. Ensuring the safety of our citizens is of utmost importance, your majesty.”

As they begin coordinating the relief missions, you allocate resources and personnel to help the affected villages. You go through countless lists and inventories of important supplies, deeming which ones are needed and necessary to be distributed to the afflicted villages. You also spend time gathering doctors, knights, and other important personnel to send them out to tend to the villages. The castle’s front courtyards transform into bustling hubs as supplies are gathered and medical teams prepare to depart.

In the midst of the chaos, a messenger arrives with a letter. The familiar wax seal of the royal family signifies that it’s a letter from Simon. A surge of anticipation courses through your veins as you break the seal quickly, hands slightly shaky from the adrenaline.

Your eyes scan the familiar writing, clutching the paper tightly. The letter carries both relief and worry. Simon recounts the intensity of recent battles and expresses concern for the well-being of Kastron. He reassures you of his safety multiple times, yet it does little to ease your heart. He emphasizes the importance of your resilience, saying that your efforts from the castle have not gone unnoticed from the battlefield.

As you absorb his scratchy handwriting, Soap approaches, his gaze curious. “News from the front lines?” he asks quietly.

You nod, a mixture of emotions bubbling within. “Yes. Simon is well, but he doesn’t seem as optimistic as they once were. I mean, the letter was dated about two weeks ago, so there’s no way of telling what’s currently going on.”

Soap’s brow furrows in concern. “Well, we just sent the reinforcements a few days ago, I’m confident they'll do more than help.”

You appreciate Soap's attempt to offer reassurance. “I hope so. It’s just, the war hasn’t let up at all, and it’s really starting to concern me… And everyone keeps saying that we’re doing well despite some setbacks, but I can’t help but feel as though something bad is going to happen…”

Soap places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I ken that feeling. It’s a heavy burden, but remember, Kastron has weathered storms, and we’ll weather this one. Yer doing more than you realize. And, nothing bad will happen, not with me around and his majesty out there alongside Price and Gaz. We’ve got this.”

You swallow thickly, nodding. You take a few breaths, trying to calm your frayed nerves.

He’s right, after all. You have Soap here looking after you, and a castle packed to the brim with guards and knights. You sent out reinforcements to struggling villages, you sent out hundreds of more soldiers to the front lines. You’ve been taking the reins in every single Kastronian affair, from advising noble people to organizing relief efforts. Your determination and resilience have been the beacon for your people, a symbol of hope in these trying times.

You’ve got this.

. . .

Days turn into nights, and nights into more weeks. The war room remains a constant hub of activity, but there’s a sense of progress. Reports start to arrive detailing the impact of the reinforcements and the relief missions. Villages that were once on the brink of collapse are now showing signs of recovery. The people, though scarred, hold on to the hope you've instilled in them.

As the days go by, the momentum continues to shift. The Southern Kingdom, faced with the new Kastronian reinforcements, begins to slowly lose its steam. Not to say the threat is receding, but you now have more hope than you’ve had since the war started.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you and Soap find yourselves on the balcony overlooking the courtyard. The sounds of the night echo a strange sense of serenity and ominous undertones despite the ongoing turmoil.

Soap leans against the balcony railing, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “Ye’ve done well, yer majesty. The people look up to ye, and I think we’ve gotten past the worst of it. We’re on the path to recovery.”

You turn to him, grateful for his presence. “And I couldn't have done it without you, Soap.”

He gives you a half-smile, “Nah, you give me way too much credit. I’ve done nothing. It’s all you, yer majesty. All you.”

You smile, shaking your head. You can see where he’s coming from.

Soap’s eyes meet yours, a glint of sincerity reflecting in them. “But I appreciate the sentiment. It's been a tough road. Yer strong, resilient, and caring. The people see that, and they believe in you.”

You lean against the balcony, the night air carrying some unexplained tension. “It’s not over yet, Soap. The war has really affected everyone, and even if we’re turning the tide, there’s still a long way to go.”

Soap nods, understanding your hesitancy. “Aye, there is. But ye’ve already set the wheels in motion for a better future. The relief efforts, everything you’ve been doing, it’s all making a difference, ‘specially in the long run.”

As you both stand in silence, a gentle breeze rustles the leaves, and the distant sounds of the horses in the stables break through to you. Soap breaks the silence, his voice low but determined. “I just also wanted to say, yer doing Simon proud. I can see it in everything ye do. And when he comes back, he’ll find you in your prime, and Kastron stronger than ever.”

A bittersweet smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “Thank you, Soap. I just wish he were here to see it for himself.”

Soap places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “He’ll be back. And when he does, Kastron will be upright. Ye’ve kept the flame burning, y’know.”

The war is not over, but the worst seems to have passed.

Or so you thought.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme

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nataliawrites · 1 year

Text

Crowning Glory // Max Verstappen

Max Verstappen x Princess of the Netherlands!Reader

Max prided himself on his control. His job depended on it. His life depended on it.

Even when he briefly lost control — and he really doesn’t regret the infamous pushing incident — it was always of his own doing.

Until you came into his life.

A knock on the door to his driver’s room started Max. It was race day and it was rare for him to be bothered when he was preparing on his own. A home race meant that everything was heightened. The adrenaline thrummed deeper. The cheers were louder. The Orange Army was nearly blinding in the stands.

“Max,” the familiar voice of his team principal filtered through the door after another knock, “I have someone who would like to meet you.”

“Can’t we do this later, Christian? I know you know my routine by now.”

“Just open the door. I think you’ll be happy to change up your routine this once.”

Max heaved himself off of the small couch and went to send the Brit and whatever guest he brought along away so he could continue to focus on the race in peace.

He opened the door, prepared to shut it in a second, but stopped short when he saw who was standing next to Christian. The guest in question was wearing an elegant summer dress in a bright shade of orange sure to be similarly reflected upon thousands of Dutch fans around the track.

She was also the subject of his long running teenage crush. A crush he thought he had gotten over until he was staring open-mouthed at her right in front of him.

“Hallo,” she takes the initiative to greet Max considering he was still making somewhat of a fool of himself in front of her, “it is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Max bends into a hasty bow, unsure of the protocols for meeting someone he had only ever seen on the news and the pages of magazines, “Your Royal Highness, I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m the one intruding on your preparations,” she waves his apology off. “I just wanted to stop by and wish you luck before the race. It is my first time attending a Grand Prix in-person but my family and I have been fans for a long time and started following your career when news of an incredibly promising young driver racing under the Dutch flag first made its rounds.”

“I-thank you, Your Highness. I am honored.”

“Well, I will leave you to continue getting ready. Mr. Horner promised me a tour of the garage. Good luck again, you do your country proud.”

Max remained frozen in the doorway, watching the heir apparent walk away with the Red Bull team principal, bodyguards seemingly materializing from the walls to surround her as they made their way into a public area of the F1 Holzhaus.

Max managed to get you out of his head once the race began. The second he got into the car, nothing else mattered. Everything beyond the track ceased to exist as he pushed the car to its limit and passed the chequered flag for yet another home win.

But when it came time for the podium ceremony, there you were front and center, ready to present trophies to the three drivers. Max swore he could feel a spark travel up his arm as your fingers brushed his while handing him the trophy. “Well done! Tonight we celebrate.”

Turns out the celebration was a far cry from the ones he was used to. Instead of a club, Red Bull team members were invited to join you at a nearby royal residence for dinner and drinks. Max listened to you explain why from his seat next to you at the long dining table as you waited for the first course to be served, pleasantly warm from champagne already, “I used to love going out. Tried to have a typical university experience, you know? But I was almost kidnapped last year and despite security stepping in on time I have been forbidden from doing so again. Too much risk.”

And there it was. The reminder of just how different your lives wore despite both being Dutch public figures. One day Max will retire and can live a relatively normal life if he so chooses while you will ascend to the throne and lead a kingdom.

He didn’t exactly pity you — royalty was royalty at the end of the day — but he did sympathize with the constraints that it placed on you and how you lived your life.

Max clears his throat, “I’m not exactly sure how this whole thing works but I would love to take you out.”

He waits for a response and nervously cards his fingers through his hair when he doesn’t get one, “only if you want, of course, Your Highness. I have a sailing boat on the coast not too far from here. It’s not a yacht, though you are welcome to join me on that too if you are ever in Monaco, but I promise that it is peaceful and private. I just thought you would like to get away from all this,” he gestures around the room of mingling Red Bull staff and dignitaries, “for a little.”

“Are you sure?”

“Hhmm?”

You ask again, “are you sure?”

“Sure about what? That I would like to take you on a date? Quite sure.”

“Any privacy we have won’t last long.”

“I know.”

“The press can be brutal.”

“So I’ve learned. I don’t particularly care.”

“There are rules …”

“I will learn them.”

“Okay,” you finally allow a shy smile.

“Okay?”

“Yes, Max. I would love to go on a date with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. But if we are to date you have to call me Y/N.”

“Gladly … Y/N,” he tests out how your name feels on his lips for the first time.

“Oh and you will have to meet my parents.”

That gives him pause. “Your parents?”

“Yes.”

“As in the King and Queen.”

“Yes.”

“I have to meet the King and Queen?”

“It’s all still a bit old fashioned, I’m afraid. We will need their approval.”

You’re quick to reassure him when you see how quickly the color drains from his face, “my father is a big Ferrari fan but he has a soft spot for you. You need not worry.”

“Your father is the King.”

“Yes.”

“My King.”

“Yes. And he’s my father. You’ll have to get used to it if you see us going anywhere.”

“Right. Of course …” A few seconds pass. “But he’s the King.”

You pat his hand where it’s splayed on the table, “you’ll be fine.”

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lycheedr3ams · 10 months

Text

Death's Angel

Part 6: Escape

royal!fem!reader x executioner!konig

Warnings: MDNI! smut, mutual pining, forbidden love, death (konig is an executioner duh), mean sisters, mentions of medieval-type violence, overbearing parents, konig is brooding and a perv, some predator/prey dynamics, possessive!konig, maybe dark themes bc reader likes seeing him kill people and bc he's a perv?

IMPORTANT NOTE: the taglist is getting too long for me to manage, so this will be the last post that I will have a taglist for. i appreciate all the support!!! just be sure to check my blog for future updates. if you aren't on the taglist but asked to be here, either i missed you or tumblr won't let me @ you also, we are nearing the end! I think this is gonna have 8 parts. thank you for your support!!!!

.......

series inspired by the art below!

konig's promise of taking you away at any moment you asked him weighed on you for weeks. the more you grew attached to him, the harder it was to hide your relations with him. you couldn't exactly go on proper dates in his cold, dark room in the castle basement. he couldn't take you on picnics, take you on carriage rides, or anything that any normal couple would do. you weren't a normal couple. you were a princess, and he an executioner. you two were never supposed to even speak with one another.

the one thing, the one romantic thing that you could do in his room, was dance with him. konig didn't know how to dance. he only knew the dance of an axe over the chopping block and how to sharpen its edges with stone. he was hesitant at first, but loved how close to you he could be. he was quite clumsy, and he'd frequently step on your toes every now and then. but each time he did it, you smiled.

"it's okay, konig. you'll get the hang of it," you'd say as you smiled up at him sweetly. he would quietly nod and furrow his brow in concentration as he danced with you.

his hand would be so gently laid on your waist, and his large hand on your shoulder grounded you and kept you in the moment. it didn't matter what mean thing your sisters had said to you, or the fact that you couldn't care less about your provincial duties. when you were with konig, when he was touching you, you were there, and that was all you knew.

but his hood always remained on. you asked him, once, if you could see his face, and all he answered with was a quiet "no" and you never broached the subject again.

...

"konig," you said to him after you two had danced and then made love. truly, made love. it was so soft, and he pressed so many kisses on your neck and boobs and back. konig always grew a little soft after you two danced.

"ja, liebe?" he asked as he gently stroked your hair.

"do...do you think we could...leave, soon?" you whispered as you gently balled up your fist.

his hand stopped in your hair for a moment, but he quickly resumed his gentle caresses. he breathed deeply. "it's as i said. say the word, and we go."

"i...i want to go soon, konig. i don't know where. just far from here."

"how soon?" he asked.

"next week," you said before he could even finish his question. this had been on your mind for so long. konig changed you, the night he asked what you would do if you weren't a princess. you'd been fantasizing about having your own cottage with him, being able to garden and tend to your animals everyday while he was a blacksmith, maybe, or a mercenary. the cathedral ceilings and polished dinner plates of your castle no longer appealed to you.

konig kept caressing your hair. "and how far?"

you gulped. "could we...leave the country? just go to a neighboring one. right near the border."

konig thought for a moment. "ja, we can. i know of a village just beyond the mountains. you will like it. i will build a house for you."

you smiled against his bare chest. "i'll build it with you, konig."

he shook his head gently as he squeezed you. "nein. i will build a house for you, by myself."

"if you insist," you said as you pressed a gentle kiss to his chest. "a house for us, konig. us."

konig was silent for a little while. you were growing worried, but he finally replied. "a house for us, meine Engel. i will build a house for us."

"i've already begun to stow away some of my savings," you whispered as if you feared the stone walls had ears. "we will be set for life."

"do not worry about that, Engel," konig said confidently. "i will take care of you."

"i know you will," you said gently. "but you'll be giving up your profession for me. i want to repay you in anyway that i can."

"there is no need for that," he said quietly as he held you closer. "you are worth more to me than all the riches in the world."

your heart fluttered as you closed your eyes and relaxed against him. your cheeks grew warm and you smiled.

"i love you, konig," you whispered as if it were the most normal thing in the world to say. once you processed what you just said, your eyes shot open, but your face stayed glued to his chest so that he couldn't see. you held your breath.

"and I love you, meine schatz," he said as he gently pressed a kiss to your head through his hood. you looked up at him with gleaming eyes, and he lifted his hood up slightly to kiss you.

you made love again that night. the words that had lingered in silence for so long had finally been spoken. he put you in missionary, focused entirely on your face as he filled you so gently yet so fully. his hard, smooth cock dragged slowly along your slick walls, and you moaned into his mouth as he kissed you.

"i will do anything for you, Engel," he rasped into your ear as he filled you. "i will take care of you."

"konig!" you moaned. you looked up at him, cock-drunk and in love. "i'm yours. i'm yours." a few tears escaped your eyes.

you kissed him again, and your fate with him was sealed.

...

a few days had passed since that night. the day you and konig were planning to run away was quickly approaching. you had packed a few things in a spare backpack, including the trinkets he gave you through the course of your relationship. you hid the gold entitled to you interspersed through socks and underwear in your backpack. you looked out the window of your bedroom out over the castle grounds, and felt resolved. you were ready to leave this life behind, and just be. with konig.

you got dressed in your room as normal, and made your way down to the banquet hall for breakfast. but when you reached the banquet hall, you found three of your sisters shouting to your parents. your other sisters sat as still as statues at the dining table. all heads turned towards you as you stepped in.

"what's going on?" you asked nervously.

"you harlot!" one of your sisters exclaimed. your mother and father looked like they had seen a ghost. you looked around, and the room was spinning.

"you've been sleeping with the executioner!" another sister yelled as she held up a black executioner's hood. that was one of konig's gifts to you, and you thought it would be kept it safe in your bedside table.

"you went in my room!?" you yelled.

"guards! get the executioner at once!" your father yelled. time began to move slowly. your sisters were screaming, the guards' metal armor clinked and clacked as they ran down to search for the executioner, your mother hugged you tightly in fear. but all you could think, the one thing that managed to keep you grounded in the ensuing chaos, was konig.

you thrashed out of your mother's embrace and ran faster than you ever had in your life to find him. the guards could run, but not as fast as you in their armor. you ran to the only place he would be at this time in the morning.

you burst through the castle doors and ran, panting, up to konig, who was sharpening his axe in the blacksmith's hut. he looked up at you happily at first, but his expression changed when he saw the tears flowing from your eyes.

"konig! konig! they know! they know!" you yelled as you panted. konig looked over you and saw half a dozen guards running towards him with swords drawn.

you looked up at him, your eyes wet and puffy, your dress wrinkled and heels broken.

"come," he said as he picked you up in one motion. you yelped, but held onto him as he ran towards the stables. the alarm bell was ringing in the castle as all guards now saw the executioner running off carrying a princess towards the only escape. your siblings and parents watched from the great porch with horrified expressions.

"i'm so sorry konig," you cried into his shoulder as he ran.

"shh, shh," he soothed between breaths. "i told you i would take care of you, didn't i?"

you nodded and gently squeezed him. you finally reached the stables, which had been unattended momentarily during the chase, and konig threw you on top of the biggest horse before putting on its bridle and getting on in front of you. there was no time to put on a saddle.

"hold on, Engel!" he yelled before smacking the reins against the horse's neck. you held onto his hard, tree-like torso as he kicked the horse with his heels, and it shot off through the stables. the guards that had made it to the stable doors were swept back as your horse sprinted through.

you looked behind and saw that there were now three mounted guards following you. "konig!"

he spurred the horse on faster, but the main castle grounds gate was already closed. "hold on, this will be bumpy!" konig yelled. he sharply turned the horse around and you flew over the castle grounds as he guided the horse towards the hidden exit behind the grounds, past the gardens. the guards' horses were fast, but no match for the bestial horse konig had chosen.

you buried your face in his back as the wind whipped by you and the ground rolled under your feet like waves. the alarm bells sounded louder over the grounds as panic rose, echoing against the stone walls of the castle, and screaming could be heard from servants out in the fields as you passed.

your horse jumped over the hedge at the edge of the grounds, the guards far behind, and you fled with konig through uncharted wilderness with nothing but the clothes on your backs.

taglist: @kneelingshadowsalome, @plumdreadful, @dumb-dumb-idiot-girl, @elichisstuff, @konig-breedme, @tr4psta, @cutiecusp, @konigsleftkidney, @local-vampire-s1ut, @ihaveaproblematicbrain, @twice360noscope, @madzeesstuff, @crazy-phan-girl13, @babygirl-panda19, @warrior-of-justice, @eluffi, @mooniesthings, @elowynnlane, @zaxlrza, @red-bed-bug, @alexdoesntlikeyou, @helmipss, @11aplacesange11, @rouge-swears, @pasta-m1lk, @ghostinvenus

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beautifulfuckup99 · 4 months

Text

"There are different kinds of soulmates. 12 to be exact." Ms. Whitehurst says while sat with MBG. "When we think of that term, we think so one dimensional. But no matter lover or friend or partner... We are all connected on a spiritual level. And therefore... We can all have a soul mate from the past that will find us one day, again."

First type of Soul Mate: The Soul Crossing Mate

“Soul Crossings: This phenomenon can happen with friends or lovers or colleagues, when for a short amount of time you are thrown together and share amazing experiences and awakenings in a past life before one of you is ripped away. They may find you in the next life. And hopefully… the outcome will be different.”

Warning(s): Curs!ng, SMUT, Ment!ons of Unal!ving, Angst (read at your own risk)

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

“Fuck. Fuck.” Jungkook whispers as he barges into his bedroom while you stand by the window, looking out into the courtyard, your heart racing like it’s been all this morning.

“I told him. I told him, I told him I don't… That I don't want her. I told him that if he did this, what I would do. And he… He called my bluff. And I'm a fucking coward for it…” Jungkook whispers when the bedroom door is finally shut, and it makes you hum. You can only manage that noise. You can’t even bring yourself to look at him as he rambles on.

“My father will marry me off for an alliance with a woman I don't even love…” He whispers quietly to himself, and you shut your eyes, your hands gripping your raggedy maid apron.

“You should be lucky.” You finally say, still facing away from him. He looks at you in disbelief. “The princess is… She’s beautiful.” You whisper, your throat burning at that comment. You knew. You always knew that what you and the prince had was strictly for the shadows. You were foolish to think of a future with him as you laid tangled under his sheets.

“Don’t. Y/N. Don’t, because… She’s not you.” Jungkook whispers. “She's… She'll never be… You.” He states as you hold yourself.

“We knew this would never be okay.” You shake your head, finally turning to face him and it’s your greatest mistake, because you instantly feel tears threaten to escape your eyes.

“We? No. I always knew this was right. I… I don't… I don't want to marry that woman.” He says, venom in his voice and it makes you shiver.

“But for your father? For your kingdom? You have to. A good prince is not selfish. You are not selfish. Marrying her… it’ll bring guaranteed peace to both kingdoms.” You say. It hurt to say this, but you knew deep down, Jungkook cared for his people. And this was for the best.

“But I…” His voice cracks a bit as he moves closer to you. “I don't want to stop… No. I can’t stop loving you." He says stubbornly. You sigh tiredly.

“Prince-" He cuts you off from even thinking to refer to him like that.

“No. No. You know my name. You… You moaned it out so beautifully just this morning…” He whispers as he walks closer. You can only look down. “I… I don't want to do this…” He whispers. “I don't want to-" It’s your turn to cut him off now.

“But you have to. You have to. Please, my love. Please. For your people. You know it’s what’s best.” You shake your head. “This is… Something you need to do.” You try quietly.

“No. No.” He says, always one to fight. “I need you. I need you always. I…” He moves to you fully now, grabbing your arms.

“I need you to say you still love me. Even if I have to do my duty. Duty to this kingdom, to my father, I need to hear that you need me… Just as badly as I’ll always need you.” He whispers as he looks you straight in the eyes and tears fall freely now.

“I can’t love a man who has a duty to another woman.” You whisper as he grabs your upper arms a bit firmer.

“A duty to a woman that will be loveless. Know that my heart… That my everything will be yours.” He whispers as he looks into your eyes.

“Know that… One day… One day she might be queen. And one day she might bear me a son. But my heart. My soul. My being… will always belong to you.” He whispers as you stare at him with a longing gaze, but your heart ached in an indescribable way.

"Please Y/N. Know nothing will ever change that. I will never... Let anything or anyone... Hurt you." He whispers and you want to laugh bitterly. Because his loving gaze hurts just as much as this news. But you believe him. And that adds to the pain.

"They can never find out. No one must ever know." You point out quietly as you look at him. He takes you in as you are at this very moment, and he shuts his eyes.

"I wish I could runaway..." He finally whispers.

"The people need this. Your people need this union-" He cuts you off.

"And what about what I need?!" Jungkook snaps as he looks at you. You pause as you watch him closely, holding your breath at his outburst.

"We are on the brink of war. This marriage can solve everything..." You finally whisper, wanting him to think rationally. But for as long as you've known the prince, he's always been... A more emotional thinker.

"And this should be a good thing." You try quietly as he moves away from you and goes back to pacing the floor/

"But it's not. It not, it's not, it's..." Jungkook pauses for a moment as the tears finally slide down his cheeks. "Fuck..." He whispers as he lets the realization finally envelop him. He is not yours and he never was. And you were silly for ever trying to be his...

You move to hold him tightly in your arms and he scrunches down a bit to rest his head on your shoulder as his calloused hands grip the thin fabric of your maid uniform.

He chokes back an angry sob as he grips your waist tighter, eyes shutting in a calmness that he only gets when around you. "When you hold me in your arms... I feel like I can take on the world..." He whispers between sniffles. He nuzzles more into the cork of your neck.

"I love you..." He breathes out shakily and you shut your eyes to stay in this moment for as long as you can. You'd fight the angels above to stop time at this very second if you could.

He breathes in once more to regain some strength. "I will always... Love you. And I will never... Ever... Leave you." He whispers against your skin and the shivers are very noticeable...

"Say it." He whispers against your neck, and you can't push him away as he holds you tighter against him. "Please. Say it back..." He whispers. Your eyes squeeze shut as you fight against your own mind.

"I will always love you, my prince. And... I will never leave you." You whisper finally, your chest tightening because you meant every word. But the idea of him wrapped in another woman's wedding ring... It haunted you already.

"Thank you. Thank you..." Jungkook breathes out, pulling back only to catch your lips in a passionate entanglement. You kiss back feverishly.

"I need you." He breathes against your lips, and you whimper softly at the statement. He pulls away fully from your lips. "I need you now." He whispers as he grips the edge of your dress.

"Take this off." He demands, always an impatient one. It makes you blush as you hurriedly untie your apron while he helps to unzip the back of your dress.

As he disrobes you, you hurriedly unbutton his black vest and go for the shirt under it. "Just rip it. Rip it off..." He encourages hotly against your neck. You do just that and the shirt slides down his toned arms before he grabs you up and carries you to bed.

Dropping you on to the cold satin sheets, you're quick to remove his belt and yank down his pants. Today had shown you both one major thing. You had no more spare time to waste. You only had now. Now to be selfish, now to be lustful. Now to sin and break the king's ruling.

No royal shall ever sleep with a commoner.

Without a second thought, your hand wraps around his thick member, stroking it slowly as he gasps in pure pleasure. "Just like that. Look at me. Look into my eyes." He pants lustfully and you look up at him with eyes full of adoration. There was no hiding this love...

"I've said it before. And I'll say it again. You are mine. Now until forever." He shivers against your lips as you slide your hand up his cock, feeling it harden in your grasp.

"I love you. I love you..." He moans and kisses you lovingly as you lay back on the bed with him on top of you, his cock in your hand, getting solid with every stroke of your soft hand around it.

"No more." He finally pants as his hips jerk against your hand.

"My prince, I-" He cuts you off.

"Let me service you, my love. Let me worship... The only body I will ever need in my life." He breathes out before kissing along your neck and towards your breasts.

You loosen your hand from around his cock as you gasp softly. His kisses never failed to leave a trail of fire in their wake. "Don't hold back. Let your moans be heard. Let everyone know... Who I truly honor." He whispers against your left nipple before his lips wrap around the nub, making you moan more, back aching.

"Let them hear." He whispers against your nipple. "Let them warn the princess." He moves to suck on your right nipple for a moment as your head rolls back into his bed that you've made your home for the past year. "That I love someone else. That she will never compare... She will never get this from me. Because I am yours..." He whispers and moves further down your body.

"My prince..." You breathe out in contentment. The sensation of floating is not lost on you.

Without another word, he gets to work devouring you in a desperate way. His tongue flicks your clit with determination to make you melt and he's fast to slurp up the juices that collect.

"Oh my... Jungkook!" You moan, hand gripping his mess of curls.

"Louder. Louder..." He mumbles against your clit and the vibrations only add to your pleasure. "Say how much... You... Like it..." He mumbles against your wet slot.

"I love it! Oh my... Gods above. Yes!" You cry out, unable to contain your volume at this moment. Your thighs clench as you feel yourself teetering at the edge of bliss...

"Mm... You're going to cum, aren't you. Cum. My good girl. Cum for me... Let them hear..." He mutters against your clit before sucking harder, making your entire body tremble as you grip his hair in both hands now. You feel your mind going quiet as you focus on the feeling of now. And now, right now, you had your gorgeous lover between your legs, begging for your cum in the mix of his heavy breathing and hard grip on your hips to keep you in place.

"You will... Always be my... Good girl..." He mumbles as he gets you over the edge. You scream out, unable to hold back at this moment. You cum all over his mouth and he hungrily sucks it up. You whimper as you try pushing at his head.

"Sensitive?" He teases against your thigh before licking the juices that had leaked along your inner thigh. Your eyes shut in pleasure.

"Jungkook..." You whisper as reality creeps back in. You'd just been loud. What if someone heard?

"Hey. No. no, no. None of that." He whispers back. He could always read your mind. "Just move your head. No talking. No thinking. Do you want me?" He whispers as he rests his chin on your stomach gently. You sigh shakily and shut your eyes before you give in. You nod slowly and he leans up to kiss you deeply. You can taste yourself on his tongue as it dances with yours.

"I love your sounds..." He mumbles against your mouth as it hangs open while you pant in a heated need for more. He gets fully on top of you and you feel how hard he is as it nuzzles against your wet folds.

"Say you want me. Say you love me, Y/N." He breathes out as he holds your face, looking into your eyes. You look up at him. It's just you two in this moment. Your mind pictures a perfect world where this wouldn't end in heartache. Where you'd be his for a moment outside of the bedroom. But she will get that. She will get a husband, a king, a father to her child. And you... You will get this moment.

"I love you. I want you. My prince..." You give in quietly.

With no other words, his hand goes around your throat comfortingly before he sinks into you slowly to make it last. You whine quietly and your head rolls back as he claims you. His body could always tower over yours and his strong hand around your neck could only compare to the other hand he placed on your hip to hold you in place fully. He grunts as he thrusts deeper into you, and you've never felt fuller than you do in this moment...

"You're my queen. My queen..." He breathes out roughly as he takes you with a full sense of desire that leaves you thoughtless and moral-less.

"Jungkook!" You cry out as your hands grip his shoulders desperately to hang on to something.

"Beautiful. Yes. Don't hold back. Let them hear. Let the heavens know. This is what a true angel sounds like..." He grunts in your ear as he hits your spot hard to make you moan out more. He controlled your body more than you ever could...

"Fuck. The way your pussy just... Grips on me." He groans as he pumps his hips faster. Your legs hook around his hips as your nails dig into his perfect skin, hoping to mark him for eternity.

"You're perfect. Mine. All mine. And I'm yours." He pants against your lips and you nod fast.

"Mine. Mine." Is all you can say back as your eyes roll shut.

"My queen. She won't get this. She will never get to have this because I am yours only yours..." He whispers before kissing along your cheek and down to your neck. You enjoy the pleasure. The sense of feeling full of him, the sounds of passion he makes, the way his body found a way to always fully engulf yours.

"I love you..." You cry out as you drag your nails down his bare back. This was reminding you of exactly why you fell i love in the first place.

"I... I'm going to... Cum!" You moan loudly as you wrap your legs fully around his hips. He couldn't go. You couldn't let him go...

"Cum. Cum for me. My queen..." Jungkook pants as it hits you hard all at once. In the next moment, you're feeling full of his hot seed as you both come down from your highs slowly. Like a feather floating through the air.

Your eyes stay shut as you focus on his lips all over your face. "I know. I know this is a lot. But I will not share a room with her. I will not... I will not be... A husband to her." He whispers as you come back to the truth. You are a servant. Not his wife. Not his queen.

"Y/N. Are you listening?" He whispers as he lifts your chin. You finally open your eyes and meet his warm gaze. "She may have my hand in the public eye. But you have my heart. And I will rest by your side every night. Until my last breath..." He whispers and you can only bring yourself to nod. But your teeth are digging into your tongue.

He kisses your forehead tenderly and pulls out of you slowly to hold you in his arms as you truly think about the life you will live after today. No other words are spoken as you rest in his arms before a stone is set on your chest.

You know what must be done...

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

With hectic footsteps and heavy breathing, Jungkook runs down the stone steps to the dungeon, tears threatening to fall the second he sees his true love behind the iron bars. "What is the meaning of this?! I want her released! Immediately!" He orders, voice booming through the cold, dark, and moist basement.

"I'm sorry, Prince. Orders from the king. She is to be held here until her hanging. Which is tomorrow at dawn." The guard says, head bowed.

"And what the hell is her crime?!" Jungkook says as you walk closer to the iron bars of your cell.

"Seducing Royalty, sir." The guard says softly. "We have her confession." He continues. Jungkook finally looks over at you and you see the confusion and hurt on his face. He walks closer to your cell and the guard avoids his eyes out of respect.

"What... Y/N, I... I don't understand." He whispers, a broken man at this point, more than he'd been earlier today.

"Jungkook..." You whisper as you reach out through the bars to hold his face. "I... I cannot love half of you." You whisper as his tears fall freely.

"So, my punishment is to lose all of you?!" He snaps in a rage that can only come from fear and pain. You shut your eyes, unable to witness the seed of despair you'd just planted into your lover's soul...

"Look at me." He whispers and you try to pull away, but he grabs your hands tighter to hold them against his face. "Why?" He chokes out through a sob.

You finally open your eyes to look at him. "We don't get this lifetime. I would've fought any god to keep this love with you. But they never paid mind to us." You whisper as you look him in the eyes.

"I'm not done with you." He whispers as he looks you deep in your eyes and you slowly slide your hands from his.

"I am not yours anymore..." You whisper back as you hold back your tears. Someone had to stay strong. He stares at you, unblinking. The hurt is clear as day on his face as he shakes his head at you slowly.

"I will never... Forgive you." He whispers quietly.

You shut your eyes at that, those words adding to your already heavy heart...

************PRESENT DAY**************

You open your eyes and blush a bit as you're met with your boyfriend of five months staring back at you. He smiles peacefully at you, and you playfully cover his face with your hand. "Morning to you too..." He laughs softly against your hand, and you smile as you sit up in bed tiredly.

"What time is it?" You mutter as you go to grab your phone from the nightstand.

"9am. But... It's Saturday. Day off. You know what that means..." He trails off playfully and you jokingly gasp.

"Do I actually get you to myself!?!" You jokingly question as you eye your idol boyfriend.

"Ha-ha. Yes. I am all yours today, my queen." He teases back and you pause at the nickname and hum a bit.

"I actually like the sound of that..." You whisper as you smile up at him while he plays with your messy bed head...

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

Hope ya'll liked it! Yoongi's past life will be released Next Saturday the 13th! Keep an eye out for that post! And have a good night!

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