#this shit was born from a smutty-ish scene I wanted to write but had not proper story around yet

[everlastingdreams]

Finally got some time to work on chapter 3-4 or whatever chapter it is. 

Please know that I wrote for chapter like... 8 or something weeks ago already lol.

I am a horrible writer tbh. My phone is filled with pages and pages of notes for this series. And everytime I check the notes I go like this:

And then I went “This is missing something...”

Y’all it was missing drama so I added more.

I just realised this fic needs more murder as well. 

Gotta think to add some more.

Weeping Monk be like :

princess/reader be like :

I’m going for a princess/reader that does stupid shit but is too proud to admit it. But knows damn well some stuff is a stupid idea lol

You can blame it on being nervous around eachother in this fic.

#weeping monk x you #weeping monk x reader #cursed weeping monk #also Imma hide this in the tags but this fic started with an idea of some tension filled scene #like #this shit was born from a smutty-ish scene I wanted to write but had not proper story around yet #and here we are #also prepare for secondhand embarrassment moments #We going on a roller coaster ride #Wm VS.... ?

[hotdamnhunnam]

He Calls Me Honey Tits

A/N: So it’s been AGES since I’ve written for King Arthur, though I’ve been meaning to write a smutty fic about his ‘honey tits’ quote for longer than I can remember 🤪 I fucking love this cheeky little character!! This fic is super short and silly but whatever 🙃 Inspired by a recent Brothel Boy Arthur post, and a gif of the ‘honey tits’ quote (credit to my dear @kesskirata for both of those! ✨)

Pairing: King Arthur x F!Reader Warnings: smut(ish?), swearing, references to Arthur being a chick magnet and a dick magnet and fucking like a rabbit but you’re his favorite bad habit

Word Count: ~1.2k

He’s not a whore.

He’s just a boy born into poverty who likes money and wants a little more.

But boy no longer—all the women who have raised him in this brothel have made sure he wouldn’t waste away in hunger—taken care to help him grow bigger and stronger.

He’s a man now, little Arthur. And he wants to pay his dues because he can now. In his youth he’d often bat those bright blue eyes at clientele to draw in business but by now his charms can go a little farther.

And by God is he a charmer.

To the women of the brothel he’s become a knight in shining fucking armor.

Rakes in profits like it’s nothing.

There’s that face of his for one thing. Flawless features set in place so delicately it’s disgusting. Handsome in a way that’s rugged though his beauty is refined—every last muscle of his chiseled body perfectly defined—he’s so enticing it’s insulting. Not surprising that the bastard walks and talks with the bravado of a motherfucking king.

Scores of young ladies and gentlemen—and not-so-young ladies and not-so-gentlemen—flock to this humble little brothel from across the goddamn kingdom. Pray this pretty specimen will stick his thick pink hunk of sweet honey-glazed ham in them.

No telling just how often he accepts these many offers. But he’s taken many lovers. All in service of the women whom he honors as his mothers, glad that he can earn some coin to fill their coffers.

There’s one thing you know for sure, about his habits: Arthur has his regulars. His favorites. Clients he enjoys receiving, patrons he’ll indulge for hours any given evening, tirelessly fuck about like rabbits. The man is fucking good at sex now that he’s old enough to properly have it.

He has his favorites.

And you’re one of them. Lucky for you since you’re in fucking love with him. Amidst your recent steamy trysts, the two of you went off and fell in love like stupid fucking idiots.

He calls you honey tits.

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

“Put your ring back on, honey tits.”

Arthur is carrying on calmly as if you two aren’t stuck in some deep shit.

You should’ve known that soon enough your jealous husband would learn of your dirty secret. You had tried so hard to keep it, but he’s caught you in the bedroom of a boy-whore and is just standing and staring like an idiot.

The two of you should never have been wedded. You’d stopped giving half a shit about the sanctity of marriage once you lost track of how many whores he’d bedded. Though whatever bond you once shared with your husband is now dead, he’d certainly never agree with you about it. Sees you as his breeding mare, and obviously doesn’t care, that it’s truly not fucking fair.

Pull off your wedding band, the ring you wish was never on your hand. Call him an old impotent pig, and tell him that you need a proper cock that’s good and hard and big. Shoot him a dark murderous glare.

And his reaction is... quite bad. Prepares to storm across the room and throttle you like mad.

Till Arthur intervenes—he’d called you honey tits and said that you should put your ring on so as not to cause a scene. “You haven’t had enough porridge this morning yet to talk like that.”

He knows how much porridge you’ve had. Because the two of you are breaking fast together. It’s routine: you’ll drop by at the crack of dawn for him to pound your cunt till it’s never been wetter. Come midmorning pause to eat porridge and chat. Then back to bed, and once young Arthur is well fed, the epic sex is even better. That’s how you’ve fallen wildly in love with him in two months flat.

You’ve come to know him from these talks. You’ve learned that not only his big cock, as it barrels through your holes, but also his brilliantly beautiful soul, is worthy of your love and worship.

Art has more to say to your pig of a husband as the swine grabs for his sword. Addresses him respectfully although he’s not a lord. “And if you like that sword so much, your lordship...”

Good God, where’s he going with this. In the months since you’ve known Arthur you’ve become accustomed to his stupid cheekiness.

“...then I’d guess you’re compensating for another stick that can’t take care of business.”

Sigh.

At least your lover has succeeded in diverting all your husband’s rage toward him instead of you. Rises to your defense just as a noble knight would do. Though his affront dug low his virtue flies quite high.

Your husband lunges furiously toward him but you barely bat an eye, because you’re well aware that Arthur has been trained for all his life to win a fight. Whereas your lawfully wedded swine has trouble hauling his ass up the fucking staircase every night.

And sure enough the scuffle ends just as quickly as it begins. Art has the other man flat on the floor in less than ten seconds. The sword is in his hands. The war his to command.

The pig struggles to stand. Stares at you like an idiot again.

“What in the king’s name are you doing with this man?” he asks though really he should reckon.

Arthur chuckles with a soft shake of his head. Plops his fine ass down on the bed. Gestures for you to join him and you do just as he beckons.

Soon ‘the king’s name’ will be his though no one yet knows that’s the fate for which he’s destined. That you’ll someday be beside him as his queen when his life heads in that direction.

Just for now he’s just a whore.

And you’re so lucky that he’s yours.

Your lover smirks watching your husband try and fail to gather up the shattered pieces of his ego from the floor. “Now you can either watch us fuck, or head downstairs to try your luck. I doubt that any of the ladies in this house would care to lie with such a swine. But that’s your chance to take. Their call to make, not mine.”

Bright blue eyes cast the pig a look beneath dangerously furrowed brows, making it clear that if he tries to take his anger out on any of the women in this house... Arthur will know it and will sever his skull clean off of his spine.

The truth is your husband himself is now aroused.

Everyone is a whore for Arthur in this humble little whorehouse.

Cuckold can’t even be blamed—here in the presence of a god it’s not his fault—but he’s ashamed, and makes a sad attempt to hide that fact behind a feeble insult. “You faithless bitch! How could you possibly have spurned me for this little boy-whore idiot? What could you ever come to love about this sorry sack of shit?”

A million things, you think as you beam up at the born king. A million reasons to love him. Mention only one of them. One of your fucking favorites.

“He calls me honey tits.”

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

... Continued in Part 2!

Hope you enjoyed this and would love to hear if you did! 🤗💗

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