Tumgik
#prince!au
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Love you, love you, love you...
Summary: You go into your arranged marriage already distrusting your husband and all other men, and despite him repeatedly attempting to gain your favor, you are resolved to rebuke him at every turn. Will you manage to keep up the walls you’ve built to protect yourself, or will prince Beomgyu succeed in getting through your defenses?
Word Count: 11k
General warnings: oc is basically a misandrist, she will not hear gyu out, her calling him a pinhead, gyu using the word rape (no one actually gets raped), oc being a bitch about their first time and making fun of gyu’s hesitance, oc is emotionally stunted, inaccurate description of first times, beomgyu and others calling him a sissy, arranged marriages. 
Smut warnings: sub!gyu, dom!reader, riding, cunnilingus, masturabtion under guidance, edging, premature ejaculation, breeding kink, playing with nipples. 
 
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“We don’t have to do this.” 
You stand in front of your newly-wedded husband, livid. 
“You think I’m too fragile to consummate my marriage?” 
“No, I–” He attempts to explain himself but you cut him off. “Just because I was forced into this marriage doesn’t mean I can’t fulfill my duties.” You growl, offended by how weak he must think you are. 
“I was just saying that you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He stammers, trying to recover from his unintended offense, and you snort derisively. “It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” 
He gulps and shakes his head. “I know you didn’t want to get married to me but I can do right by you. I will never–”
You roll your eyes, drowning out his yapping. This is your least favorite breed of men–the ones who pretend they’re not like the others. Had you been less jaded, you might’ve fallen for it, but when your own father sold you out to the highest bidder, you’d be forgiven for your lack of faith in men. 
“Shut up and take off my dress.” You cut him off. 
“You really–” He tries again and you snap, all patience gone. “Fucking do it, you sissy.” 
His jaw smacks shut and he levels you with a glare. There it is, that male aggression you’re so familiar with. He storms over to you and clumsily undoes the intricate lacing on your wedding dress, struggling with them for some time until he finally, finally pushes the dress off and it falls to the ground at your feet. 
But no further movement comes from him and you turn around to see him sheepishly looking at the floor, avoiding glancing at your bare body. 
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” You grunt, reaching out to take his own clothing off. He lets you do it without a fight, the only protest being his flaming red cheeks. 
You let out a laugh when you pull his pants to the floor and are greeted by the sight of his hard cock that smacks against his naked belly. “All this protest, trying to act virtuous, when you’re just as horny as the rest of the pigs.” 
That gets him angry. Good, at least it’s not fake righteousness. “I am not a pi–ah!” 
Whatever his rant was going to be is quickly cut off when you grab his cock and pump it in your hand. “You can pretend all you want but your body says it all.” 
“What? So I’m a pig for being attracted to my wife?” He manages to grit out, calling you out for your judgment of him, but you’re not interested in having this conversation right now. 
“Shut up.” You throw back lamely, getting onto the bed and spreading your legs out. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” 
But he remains rooted to his spot, scowl full-fledged on his handsome face now. “I don’t want to feel like I’m raping my own wife.” 
“Either way I have no choice.” 
“Then I’ll make the choice for us. I can sleep in a different room.” He announces, bending down to pick up his discarded clothes and you panic. Yes, you didn’t want to get married to him in the first place, but the rumors that will spread about you if people find out that your husband fled your marital bed on your wedding night,–you shudder to think of it. It’s one thing to be viewed as a pariah among your peers, but it’s another thing entirely to fuel their outlandish claims. 
“I want this!” You exclaim frantically, blushing as he gives you an incredulous look. “I want you to fuck me.” 
His will seems to weaken for a second, and he looks like he’s about to give in, but then the doubt sets in again. “You don’t really–”
At your wit’s end, you reach out to grab his arm and tug him towards you, causing him to basically stumble on top of you on the bed. 
“I’m–I’m so sorry–” He quickly apologizes even though it was clearly your fault, and he props himself up on his elbows so he’s not pressed against you. Though he curiously doesn’t stand back up, and there is one particular part of him you can feel pressed against your belly, still hard. 
“I want you to fuck me, Beomgyu.” You repeat firmly, and maybe it’s the close proximity or the feel of your skin against his hot dick, but he finally gives in. “Okay.” 
He wedges a hand between your bodies. You can’t see what he’s doing but you know he had grabbed his cock because a moment later you feel it pressed against your pussy. Harshly, you will down a shiver that tries to slither its way up your spine at the touch. 
But the strange sense of excitement is short-lived, lost in the clumsiness of the man above you trying and failing to find your entrance. 
“I just–it’s hard to see–” He explains awkwardly, pulling back to get a better look. You can’t refrain from rolling your eyes at the pitiful scene, which only makes him more nervous. 
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” You groan after a while of watching him fumble around with his dick, pushing him onto his back and climbing on top of him. He stares at you, wide-eyed, as you grab his dick and line it up with your entrance before you start to sink down on him. 
Your outburst may have been more powerful if you didn’t then stop one-third of the way down because of the pain. “Oh.” 
Beomgyu notices your discomfort and reaches out to hold you up. “You okay?” 
“I’m fine.” You grit, forcing yourself to take more of him. 
“Wait–take it slow–” He wheezes out, even as he clearly fights to not get lost in the feeling of your hot cunt. 
“I can take it.” You tell yourself more than him, bracing yourself as you take the rest of him in. Once you’re perched on his hips, you give yourself a moment to get used to the painful stretch. Beomgyu on the other hand is in ecstasy, his breathing heavy and his fingers clenching around your plush thighs to keep himself in check. 
Seeing him so affected by you like this is what begins to lift the shock of the pain and allows you to feel a bit of pleasure as you will yourself to relax. He just lies there all pliant and still beneath you, not once using his grip on you to make you move despite you clearly feeling his hips twitch with the attempt to hold back from thrusting up into your heat. 
“Are you a virgin?” You ask, intrigued by his reactions, and his affirmative response is a given. “Yeah…” 
If any other man had claimed virginity, especially a wealthy, privileged man like him, you would’ve called bullshit, but with him you one hundred percent believe it. 
Finally feeling like you’re ready to move, you start swiveling your hips over him, trying to stretch yourself out in preparation for more. “Is it everything you imagined it to be?” 
He shakes his head, and for a second you have to contend with the ugly feeling his rejection sparked in you. But then he continues, “It’s better.” 
You scoff. Liar. You’re barely even moving. Why is he bullshiting you? What does he stand to gain from that? Whatever, you’ll give him something to really make his head spin. 
Bracing your hands onto his tummy, you lift your hips up before letting yourself drop down. 
“Oh god.” The breath whooses out of him, and you’re surprised to find that the action actually sparks a tiny bit of pleasure in you too. So you do it again and again, moving up and down until you’re all out riding his cock. 
“That good?” You coax, trying not to think about why you even feel the need to have him affirm his enjoyment to you. 
“Too good.” He answers tightly, biting his lip. You feel his grip move from your thighs to your ass, getting more purposeful as he tries to control your movement. “Slow down.” 
Like hell you will when it just started getting good. You grab his hands and pin them down beside his head. "Keep those here, understand?" You hiss at him. You won’t let him try to control you
He whimpers, nodding, and something about his easy submissiveness makes your pussy clench. But that seems to spur him on again, and his hands shoot out to grab you once more. “Hold on!”  
You snatch his hands up and shove them onto the bed again, keeping them pinned down this time. "Shut up." He might be the man but he doesn’t get to tell you what to do. This isn’t for his enjoyment. This is purely for the purpose of fully consummating your marriage. You want this to be over as fast as possible. 
Except you didn’t expect it to be over this fast. 
“You don’t understand, I–I–” He flounders, and suddenly you feel something warm paint your insides and you stare incredulously at the panting man under you, clearly in the throes of orgasm. 
"Fuck, did you cum already?"
"I'm sorry. I asked you to slow down." He answers pathetically and you look down at him in disgust. Well, there goes any hope of you getting off tonight. Not that you expected it in the first place. 
"Whatever. This is better anyway." You go to hop off him but he reaches out and one of your arms. “Wait. I can make it up to you.” 
“How?” You ask skeptically.
"Let me make you cum."
Let’s see, do you want him to clumsily try to fuck you to orgasm for the next few minutes before he inevitably ejaculates prematurely once more? 
"No, I'm tired." You shoot him down, disinterested, but he doesn’t give up, grabbing onto you tighter and peering up at you earnestly. "Please, just give me a chance."
It’s clear that he won’t give this up. It’s probably gonna take longer to convince him to leave you alone than it will for him to try and fail to make you orgasm. So with a heavy sigh, you lie down on your back, closing your eyes and willing yourself away from this moment.  "Fine. You have one chance." 
But your eyes snap back open when you feel something wet against your pussy, and look down to see him with his head between your legs, licking you. 
Most men would never do this. They just feel entitled to getting their dicks sucked while acting like it's so gross to repay the favor. But here is Beomgyu eating you unreservedly after he just came inside you. Either he's really not as bad as the others or he's a fucking freak. Probably the latter. Definitely the latter, but that doesn’t mean you can't take advantage of it. 
Beomgyu clearly doesn't know what he's doing, clumsily licking at your pussy like it's a tart, but that's okay. You can guide him through it. That would end this sooner and you might actually get an orgasm out of it. 
"Flatten your tongue out and lick from the bottom to the top." You instruct and he eagerly obeys, licking from your entrance to your clit again and again, his eyes never leaving your face as he monitors your reaction.
“Yeah, just like that.” You encourage, starting to feel a twinge of pleasure at the pit of your stomach. “Now wiggle your tongue. Good… go back to licking.” 
You guide him, making him alternate between sharp quick movements and long languid licks along your whole slit. Every once in a while, he’d pull his tongue back in his mouth to wet it and his lips would pucker and he would suck on your sensitive pussy, making your whole body tremble. It doesn’t take him long to notice, and then he starts doing it on purpose, more frequently, sucking your lower lips or you clit into his mouth before letting them go and attacking them with sharp swipes of his tongue then licking up all the arousal his actions produce. 
You hate how quickly he picks it all up, reducing you to a shaking mess in no time. 
Nearing your end, you grab his hair and push his face against your pussy. “I’m close. Focus on the clit now.” 
He moans at that, the sound traveling straight through your pussy, and it's the push you need to cum, crying out and tugging sharply on his hair as your orgasm shakes through you. Beomgyu doesn’t mind the roughness. On the contrary, it motivates him to nuzzle further into your pussy, encouraged by your reaction and fishing for more, until you tug his hair in the opposite direction, moving him away from you. 
"Beomgyu, enough." You squeak at the overstimulation, and he whines in protest, trying to fight against your grip to dive back in but you close your legs, denying him. 
He whines again but settles on pressing wet kisses against your heated thighs, looking up at you like a pup who just finished playing and is now resting on his master's lap, and just as adorable. 
At that final disturbing thought, you push him off you and get up to grab something to slip on. Beomgyu doesn’t make any attempt to do the same, his eyes glued to your figure as you put a nightgown on. 
"Aren't you going to get dressed?" You ask, trying not to glance at his naked body that he doesn’t even try to cover. 
He shrugs. "It's too hot." 
"Well, I'd prefer if you put something on. I don't want to sleep in the same bed as a naked man." 
He looks at you like you’re being ridiculous. "We're married. We just fucked." He says slowly and you put your hands on your hips, not appreciating the way he's speaking to you like you’re stupid.
"Yeah, and now we're done. I don't want to see your floppy dick anymore." 
"It wasn't floppy." He frowns, upset at the way you're speaking about his precious dick. Typical man, the slightest suggestion that you wouldn't be grateful to see his dick hurts his pride. 
But he gets up nonetheless, quickly putting some pants on before rejoining you on the bed. He doesn’t wear a shirt and you don’t bother fighting him on this. You just turn your back to him and close your eyes, determined to go to sleep quickly and end this ridiculous night. 
But any thought of sleep is stolen from your tired brain when you feel arms wrapping around you. "What the hell are you doing?" You ask him incredulously and he stammers in response, clearly not expecting you to object to the action. "I–I just thought we could… cuddle." 
You can see the blush on his face even in the dim light. "No. No. There will be none of that. I’ve fulfilled my duty as a wife already so keep your hands to yourself." 
His face falls, hurt crashing across it, and you’re suddenly hit with the sickening realization of what's going on here. 
Beomgyu likes you. 
It should've been obvious. From the way he looks at you, to wanting to make sure you don't do anything you don't want to, to striving to please you too, and now to trying to hold you to sleep. 
Well, too bad. You don't owe him love. 
You turn your back on his dejected expression. Just because he ate you out doesn’t mean you’ll start playing at being in love. 
________________
But you learn that Beomgyu isn't so easily deterred, and he seems determined to chip away at your walls brick by brick. Though, you’re just as determined and as soon as he takes one away, you put ten in its place. 
“Darling.” 
You wince as you hear your husband’s voice call out. Damn it, he’s found you. 
He trots down to you like an excited puppy, entirely too happy to be seeing you. He can’t actually be this excited to be around you despite your constant rejection of him, can he? Why isn’t he out there with the rest of the men doing whatever the men do? 
“Oh, you’re playing chess? Can I play next?” 
“Sure. I’m done anyway.” You say, getting up and getting hit by the most puppy-like pout you’ve seen on a human. “But I thought we could play a game together.” 
“I’m tired. I want to lie down.” You lie, wanting to get away from him, but your treacherous friend chooses now to pipe up. “Oh, come one. Play a game with him. Or are you scared he’ll beat you?”
Damn her, she knows how to get to you. You know she’s doing this purely because she’s been sucked in by your husband’s guileless act and she’s been consistently trying to get you to give him a chance, telling you that maybe he really isn’t like other men. You should pick better friends. 
You huff and plop back down on your chair, your friend grinning widely as she gets up and lets Beomgyu take her spot. Whatever, you’ll beat his stupid ass and humiliate him so bad, he’ll show his true colors. Men never like to be bested by the women they look down on. 
But to your horror and utter dismay–after an embarrassingly short game where you flounder and fail to mount any meaningful attack against him–Beomgyu ends up beating. And he does it with a smile too, like it was so easy, like he was beating a child. 
“Checkmate.” He claps his hands happily. “I’m pretty good, huh?
You don’t reciprocate his excitement. Instead you level him with a cold look that projects all your shame and self-doubt into hatred and accusation towards him. "You think you're better than me?"
All semblance of joy is suddenly sucked out of him, his eyes widening in alarm. “No! I was just–”
“Let’s play again. I will beat you this time.” You pointedly assemble the pieces back on the board, slamming them into place, face set in a severe frown. 
“I just wanted us to have fun together doing something you enjoy. Maybe impress you…” He mumbles but it’s all background noise to you, already formulating a plan of attack in your mind. 
You win the next game, but you draw no satisfaction from it. How can you when your opponent clearly wouldn’t fight back? He misses obvious plays, leaves himself vulnerable to easy attacks, and his moves are devoid of the quit wit he displayed earlier. 
“Take this seriously, dammit.” You yell at him after you win once again because he just wouldn’t attack your pieces. 
Take me seriously. A voice pipes up from deep within your unconsciousness before you squash it back down. 
“Not everything is a competition.” He huffs glumly and you stare at him incredulously. “It is a competition, pinhead. That’s the definition of a game.” 
“Haven’t you heard of a friendly game?” He asks, a hint of sharpness you’re not used to from him tinging his voice. 
“We’re not friends.” You answer dumbly, and he scoffs softly. “Clearly.” 
He gets up and you gawk at him. “Where the hell are you going?”
“I’m done. God forbid I accidently make you actually have fun.” 
“Hey, I have fun!” You shout, getting up too, and he has the audacity to roll his eyes. “Yeah? When?” 
“All the fucking time.” You lie through your teeth, for some reason feeling like you need to prove yourself to him, like you need to best him at something, but he still doesn’t believe you. 
“Show me then. Let’s do something fun.” 
“Sure! Let’s go to–let’s check out the–let’s–let’s–” You stammer and he gives you a skeptical look. “Oh, fuck off. Like you have a blast every day.” 
“I do, actually.” He straightens up, happy with himself for some reason. 
“Oh yeah, then show me what you do that is so fun.”
_______________________
‘You deeply regret challenging him,’ you think as you watch the idiot that is now perched onto a tree branch, grabbing a rope that is dangling from higher up on the ancient tree. 
“You’re going to hurt yourself.” You yell, craning your head up to look at him. 
“Well, then at least you’ll be happy.” He comments off-handedly and you frown. You wouldn’t be happy if he hurt himself. Yes, you didn’t want to get married to him, but that doesn’t mean that you wish the idiot any actual harm. 
Before you can think whether to refute his words out loud, he clings onto the rope and takes off into the air, swinging over the lake under him before letting go and plummeting down into it with a big splash. 
“Oh my god!” You scream, frantically peering over the edge of the water, scanning the outpour of bubbles for signs of your dumb husband. 
After what felt like eternity, he resurfaces, whooping in excitement. “Whoah, that was awesome!” 
You give him a skeptical look, eyeing the water warily, when he pipes up again, “Try it. You’ll love it!”
“Yeah, no thanks.” You dismiss him quickly, having absolutely no desire to willingly follow him into the murky lake. 
“What’s wrong? Scared you might actually have fun?” He goads. 
Yes, you’re scared. Not of having fun, but of the ominous water. You’ve never been a big fan of swimming, not trusting your fate to the fickle gods that control those menacing depths. But you’d never tell him that. You’d rather die than admit to him you’re scared of an activity he performs so nonchalantly. 
So you steel yourself and head towards the tree he had jumped off earlier, taking off your dress to get it out of the way before climbing onto the thing. 
"Do you need help?" He calls out, swimming towards you. 
"No, thanks, I'm not a damsel in distress." You snark, grabbing onto the tree firmly and using the branches to pull yourself up. 
You can feel his eyes on you the whole way, no doubt waiting for you to fail and call for help, but he's got another thing coming if he thinks you’re a weak girl who needs a man's help to do anything physical. 
"Whoa, look at you go." His laughing voice wafts up to you and you can't tell if his surprise is good-natured or condescending. 
The climb is easy enough. You’re used to doing such physical activities, much to the chagrin of your parents who always urged you to act more ladylike and stop embarrassing them. 
'Well, fuck them, and fuck him,’ you think triumphantly as you reach the large branch he jumped off. But your triumph is short lived, promptly snuffed out by the sight of the cold abyss underneath you. 
He must've seen the dread on your face because he calls out once again. "Hey, you okay?" 
You shift your gaze from the water to his face, and the uncertain look on his face annoys the fuck out of you. You will not have him doubt you. You will not show weakness.
You grab onto the hanging rope, cringing at the slimy feel under your skin, but you power through your disgust and your fear, clinging onto the slippery thing as you swing forward. 
But can’t get yourself to let go, the dreary water swirling underneath you compelling you to cling tighter to the rope. 
"You gonna jump or what?" Beomgyu laughs and you almost don't hear him through the beating of your own heart in your ears. Still, you don't let go despite his provocation, your fingernails digging into your palms and your muscles burning as you continue to clutch onto the rope tightly. 
"Hey, don't worry. I'm right here." You hear his voice right under you, taking on a concerned tone as you clearly struggle. "Come on, let go."
You don't want to. You want to go back to shore but you're stuck, suspended in the air, the slimy substance on the rope making your fingers slip bit by bit. 
Fuck, you're gonna fall. You're gonna fall. You're gonna–
You scream as your grip finally falters and you plummet to the lake below. As you breach the surface, water rushes into your open lungs through your open mouth, suffocating you. You thrash around in panic, certain you're going to drown over a stupid dare.
You feel something grab onto you and you thrash harder, your panicked brain convincing you it’s the lake itself trying to bring you down to your demise at the cold, dark lakebed.
“Hey, hey, calm down.” You hear Beomgyu's muffled voice, followed by his face coming into view, his expression scared but trying to keep calm. "It's me. I got you."
I got you?
It takes a few more seconds for you to realize that the thing that had grabbed a hold of you earlier was not the lake but Beomgyu, and that instead of trying to pull you under, he's trying to keep your head above the water. 
As soon as you realize that, you wrap yourself around him, clinging onto him for dear life, shaking like a leaf in the wind. 
Beomgyu keeps one of his arms wrapped around your waist and moves the other one up and down your back soothingly. “I got you. You’re okay. Take deep breaths.” 
You do, following his lead, focusing on his breathing and mimicking the slowing rhythm until the both of you are sufficiently calm. 
"There you go." He smiles, no hint of judgment or mockery on his face. “You alright?” 
“I’m fucking cold.” Is all you can think to say, and he laughs, the sound warming you up. “Let’s get you out of here.” 
What? Where the hell did that come from? 
Beomgyu carries you on his back as he swims to the shore. It feels like forever but you eventually reach it, and as soon as you find your footing, you let go of him and scramble out of the water, throwing yourself to the ground. Eyes closed, you take in deep breaths, finally able to breathe properly once again. 
"Do you not know how to swim?" Beomgyu asks, and you hear him sit down next to you. 
"I know how to swim." You retort sharply, too sharply to a man who just saved your life. But you can’t help it, your pride is wounded after you embarrassed yourself like that in front of him. Besides, it was his fault all this happened anyway–him and his stupid wit and his stupid carelessness.
He is silent, but you know he clearly wants you to explain yourself. So begrudgingly, you add, "I just don't like it. The water freaks me out." 
"Then why did you–oh." That small little syllable stings at your already bruised pride. You wait for him to make fun of you but he doesn’t say anything further, mercifully choosing to spare any possible remnants of your ego. 
It’s quiet for a bit, and as you sit drying out, you feel something other than the sun burning your skin. You peek your eyes open to see him staring at you. He looks away when caught, blushing like a young boy caught staring at his crush instead of a man looking at his wife. He's ridiculous. 
"What?" You prompt irritably. 
"You're pretty." He murmurs bashfully and you scoff. "I know. That's why my father was able to sell me to a prince."
Beomgyu frowns, unhappy about you bringing this up again. Oh, did you ruin his little make-believe scene? "I didn't choose this either, you know?" 
"You sure don't seem all that torn up about it." You retort, unkind about his obvious liking towards you.
"Because I can see that even though neither of us chose this, I was blessed to end up with such a smart, strong, beautiful wife. But you clearly don't think the same of me." 
You don't think his response would elicit such a gnawing feeling of guilt inside you, but his self-pitiance coupled with his compliment of you makes you almost regret your attitude. But you refuse to give in to his guilt tripping. You don't owe him happiness. You're not going to bow down and be grateful because he deigns to like you. 
At your silence, he scoffs and gets up. You fully expect him to turn around and walk away, leaving you behind, but to your surprise he offers you a hand instead.
"Don't look so surprised. You may choose to be cruel to me but I will never treat you the same way."
The nerve of this man! God, he pisses you off so much. 
You push his hand away and pull yourself up on your own, getting dressed before stomping back towards the palace.
_______________________________
He keeps away from you after that. True to his words, he remains civil and courteous, but doesn't try to press for anything more… and you have to admit, you start to miss it. 
Not because you hold any affection for him–of course, not!--but because you're alone here with no family and so few friends. Beomgyu on the other hand is surrounded by people who are delighted to have his company, ensuring he is never wanting for company or affection. 
You on the other hand are woefully lonely, so much so that eventually you reach your breaking point, grabbing him one night while you're both getting ready for bed and kissing him. 
"What? Am I finally worthy of your affection?" Beomgyu derides when you break the kiss. You have no right to be upset at his abrasiveness when you're the one who caused it but you still are. Why can’t he just shut up and give you what you need? Why must he make you feel even more embarrassed about your need for him? Not that you’d ever admit either to him. 
"I'm in my fertile period. We need to make a baby." You cover your tracks, and he somehow still manages to be hurt by your response, as if he was actually expecting you to confess your undying love to him. "Wow, that is so sexy."
You roll your eyes and slip off your dress. "Is this sexy?"
He doesn’t even try to hide the way he ogles your body and you laugh, stripping him before pushing him onto the bed. "I thought so." 
_______________________
As punishment for forcing you to almost reveal your alarmingly developing need for him, you concoct a cruel plan designed to repay him tenfold. You set out to satisfy your need while simultaneously maximizing his own by restricting any sexual intercourse between the two of you to your fertile period of every month, and spending the intervening time alternating between depriving him of your touch and teasing him until he’s begging you to let him have you. 
He comes to memorize your schedule and, like a trained dog, starts getting restless close to the when you’d be fertile, staring at you like he's fucking you in his head, humping the bed in his sleep, sporting a semi-permenant hard on as the day draws closer. 
"Did I say you could slow down?"
You take to edging and denying him during your sex-free periods on the pretense that you want him to be full and ready to breed you when the time comes. It's bullshit of course and he knows it too, but he wants to have a family with you so much and wants to please you so badly that he lets you do whatever you want to him. 
"I'm close." He tries to excuse his disobedience but you have no patience for it. 
"You can hold it." You assert, knowing full well he's near his breaking point, but it's just so fun to watch him fight with his own body to try to please you, caught between continuing as you want and risking cumming and angering you or stopping and angering you by disobeying. 
"I can't." He shakes his head, despairing. 
"You can." You say more gently this time, going for a different tactic, though no less devious. "You want to knock me up don't you? Wanna see me get big and round with your baby?"
"Fuck, stop it." He whines, his hand barely moving over his cock but not daring to stop. 
"You're so pretty like this." You coo, knowing he's a sucker for your compliments. They're rare but he lives off of them.
"Oh." He gasps, speeding his pace on his cock, needing to hear more. You can see the muscles of his tummy tensing as he tries to hold back but his hips can't help but buck into his own hand. "Please. Just let me cum once. My balls are so full. I'll have so much for you still. It's been so long." 
God, you love making him do this. He'll do anything you ask of him. Maybe he's rotten like all men but at least his brand of sickness is fun to watch.  
"It hasn't been one week. Are you that addicted to sex? Did you fuck yourself every day before I came along?" 
He shakes his head, denying your accusations. "You keep teasing me, wearing those revealing clothes to bed. Touching me under the table. Whispering dirty things in my ear when we have company…" 
"You love it, you dirty pup. I know you do."
"I love it. Love you touching me, love you toying with me, love you…"
He doesn't finish that lost one. He doesn't get to–or maybe that was the end of the sentence-before he suddenly spills his seed. 
"Oh god. Oh god, I'm so sorry." He cries, just as surprised about his orgasm as you were. "I didn't mean to, I swear." 
"But you did." You tsk, intent on milking his "disobedience" to death and making him whimper and cry like a scolded dog. But the sheer panic in his reply throws you off. "I know. I'm sorry. I tried to–" His voice cuts up in a hiccuping cry. "I tried to–tell you–to stop–I couldn't–help–ittt."
You stare at him in shock. He has tears streaming down his face, shoulders going up and down with every gasping breath he takes, and his hands are hovering nervously in the air as if he wants to reach out to you but is scared of what your reaction would be. 
So you take it upon you to reach out to him instead, holding his hands in yours as you scooch towards him. "Hey, hey, it's okay."
"No, it's not." He shakes his head vigorously, tears flying off his pretty lashes. "I try so hard to be good for you and I can't even control myself. I know you’re mad."
"I'm not mad." You deny, but he just keeps shaking his head and mumbling sadly, "Didn’t mean to disappoint you."
"I'm not disappointed." You reassure him, more firmly this time. "It's just a game."
"You are–"
He obviously won't listen to your words so you go for a different route, cutting him off with a kiss that, thankfully, he easily melts into. 
The kiss is tender–every diminishing sob released against your lips unwillingly tugging on your heartstrings until you feel completely wretched for somehow making it so he reacted so strongly to something so stupid. It was never your intention to make him actually suffer. You merely wished to protect yourself. But how do you do that when your distance is what's making him so miserable?
You do not owe him your love but does that mean that he can't earn it?
"I'm not mad." You repeat when you end the kiss and he nods, eyes glued to your lips as he licks his own, his wish clear. But before he can ask for another kiss, you choose instead to let go of him to grab something to clean him up with. 
He never takes his eyes off you as you wipe his hands off and clean the cum off his body. And he still stares at you as you dispose of the rag and lay back down on the bed. 
"What?" You ask, sharper than you intended and he flinches. So you try again, gentler this time. "Do you need something?"
He stares down at his hands as he speaks, wringing his fingers nervously. "Will you hold me to sleep?"
Your following silence prompts him to finally look up at you, and the wet, vulnerable look in his big brown eyes physically prevents you from rebuffing his request. 
You sigh, throwing an arm out pointedly and he doesn't waste a second jumping forward and snuggling into your side. 
__________________
That small action--Beomgyu having you hold him to sleep instead of the other way around–makes you realize something that should've been obvious to you from the start… unlike other men, and despite your worst fears, Beomgyu isn't looking to control or lead you. 
He never did, from your sex life to what you do in your free time and even to public appearance, he lets you do as you please, only ever venturing to appeal to be included in it. You've even embarrassed him in public a couple of times before and yet he never lashed out against you in any way. 
Other people were decidedly less kind though. You know they're gossipping about you. How you're a shame to other ladies and he's a disgrace to his family and the prince title. It gets to a point where you can't help but inquire about it to him, perplexed by his seeming indifference to what anyone else had to say. 
"Does it not bother you?" 
"What does?" He peeks an eye open to look at you from where he is laid down on the grass next to you, another successful hijacking of your time. 
"What they say about you?" You spare him the details he knows all too well–that he's not a man, that he isn't fit to be a prince, that he's so weak and feeble even his wife rules him 
"It does, of course. Everyone seeks to be accepted by others-be it friends, family, society, a lover…" He trails off tenderly, and you ignore the longing look he gives you. "But I have a loving family, supportive friends, and a secure life. I'd be a foolish man indeed to ignore all of that and spend my days trying to gain the approval of those who think ill of me." He says with a smile that suddenly and unexpectedly falls, "Why? Does it bother you? Me not being manly?"
"Would you change if it did?" You ask curiously and he frowns in thought before answering. "No, I want you to be happy with me, but I want to be happy too. I want us both to be happy." 
"Why do you want me to be happy so badly?" You ask genuinely. It might be a stupid question to ask your husband but the sad reality is most husbands don't care much for their wives happiness. 
"I believe a marriage should be built on respect and affection. Your spouse is meant to be your life partner, they’re there to witness it all, your everyday life, your ups and down, the mundane and the exciting. Why not try to make the best of those years? Why not be each other's rock when the world tears you down?" He espouses thoughtfully, a wiseness you never expected from him coming through, making him look mature and worldly. But then an innocent bashfulness takes over his face and he returns back to the boyish prince you’ve come to know. "And… I've always had a crush on you."
"Me?" You ask, surprised. You’ve met the prince many times before. You were hardly strangers before your marriage, but you wouldn’t have considered yourselves friends and certainly didn’t suspect that he held any romantic sentiment towards you. But you suppose that explains his existing partiality towards you despite your less than sweet reaction to the marriage. 
"I have always loved how bold you were despite everyone trying to force you to fit the status quo. It gave me courage to be myself too. I thought if you could manage to act so decidedly outside of what is deemed proper for a lady and still remain the most radiant and exhilarating woman in the room, then maybe others could find beauty in me too." 
You gape at him, at a loss for words. He finds the parts of you that are so repulsive to everyone else attractive? Is he messing with you? Is this some cruel joke? Or is he actually telling the truth? 
You so badly want to believe him, but you can’t bring yourself to. It’s too good to be true. 
"Did you ever… think of me that way?" He asks timidly, not daring to look at you, fearing your response, and for once, you feel saddened that you’re unable to give him the answer he’s looking for. 
"No." You tell him honestly. You haven’t given him much thought before you got married. Sure, you could see that he was handsome, and he had always made himself known by his unusual behavior but other than that you hadn't really paid much attention to him, too caught up with your own troubles to pay any mind to his. You come to regret that now. At the very least, you might’ve made yourself a friend who would accept you for who you are. Or so he claims anyway. 
"What about now?" His follow-up question is even more timid, whispered so quietly you almost didn't hear it. And you wish you didn’t because you don't have any answer for it. 
"Let's not go there." You reply uncomfortably, getting up in order to physically remove yourself from the loaded question, refusing to consider that you might actually have developed any affection for him. 
But Beomgyu quickly sits up and holds onto your hand. "No, please, don't leave. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." He begs dolefully, which doesn't help your uneasiness in the slightest bit. 
"It's fine." You lie to no one's benefit. "I just have things to do." You excuse yourself unconvincingly, taking your leave before he can fully articulate his next argument. 
You hate seeing him so down, but what can you do when he insists on breaching this delicate topic again and again? You have no answer for him, you really don't. Why must he keep prodding? 
____________________
"Is it time to go to bed yet?" Beomgyu whispers in your ear. He has been giving you needy looks the whole night, when he wasn't actively hanging onto your arm like he is right now. 
It's the first day of your fertile period, and like you always do, you love to stay out as long as possible just to torment your poor husband. And lucky you, tonight there was just the perfect excuse to stay out even later–a ball hosted by the royal family and inviting noble and rich families from all over the kingdom. 
"We're the hosts. It would be rude to leave this early." You tell him sharply as if you weren’t counting on him acting this very way, as if you’re not immensely enjoying it.
"But it's been hours." He whines and you feel him grind not-so-subtly against you. 
"Are you seriously humping me in the open like this?" You ask incredulously, "Can't you control yourself?"
He shakes his head. "You know I can't." He tells you helplessly and you smile. Yes, you know very well. "I need it."
You chuckle. "Oh, you need it? What if I don't give it to you?" 
He wails at the idea and a few heads turn towards you. 
"Don't worry. He just hit his toe against the chair." You wave the curious and concerned glances off before turning towards Beomgyu with a sharp look. "Now look what you've done. Do you want everyone to know what a needy whore you are, my dear?"
"I don't care. Just need you." Throughout it all he hasn't quit pressing his bulge against your hip. 
"That's too bad because we're staying for some time still. Now run off and talk to your father's guests and stop being such a rude host."
"But–"
You disentangle yourself from him despite his protests. "Go or you won't be getting fucked tonight." You threaten against his ear before pressing a quick kiss to the skin below, causing goosebumps to erupt in your wake. 
You walk off with a big, self satisfied smile, your excitement building as you imagine how desperate he'll be once you actually take him back to bed. You wonder if you can get him to cum untouched. He has very sensitive nipples and you've always wondered if you can actually make him cum just by playing with them. You’re sure you can. Maybe tonight you'll try. 
You’re so focused on what you have in store for your poor husband that you don't notice the two people approaching you. 
"Oh darling, look how happy you look." You hear your mother's voice next to you and your mood immediately sours. You turn towards the pair with a scowl. "Hello, mother. Hello father."
"Hello, dear. How is my precious flower doing?" Your father asks, leaning forward to give you a kiss on each cheek that you don't reciprocate. 
"Deflowered." You deadpan. 
"Oh, come off it, baby. You know your father chose Prince Beomgyu because he was sure he would cherish you. That boy positively adores you." Your mother chastises, and you frown. Did your family seriously know of Beomgyu’s feelings towards you before you did? "And from what I'm hearing, he's doing just that. I mean even today, he can hardly leave your side for a minute." 
You snort. If only she knew what was really going on... But to be fair, they weren't entirely wrong. Beomgyu does cherish you. That doesn't mean that you'll let them feel good about what they did. 
"Your mother is right, love." Your father says gently but firmly, "We just wanted to ensure a good life for you with a man who adores you as much as we do. You are our only child and if you hadn’t gotten married, you would have been the object of many a wicked man's greed." 
You roll your eyes at them. You could’ve handled yourself just fine. Not that they ever believed in you. "Whatever." 
Are you being immature? Yes, but you’re still bitter about them not giving you a choice in the matter or even the man you were to marry, even if their choice turned out to be decent. 
"Excuse me. I have to go find me dear husband." You give them a sour smile and turn you back on them. Their worried murmurs fade into the background noise as you step away from them and search for Beomgyu in the crowd, determined to go back to your room now. 
When you spot him though, your mood takes an even more severe plunge. He's not alone, and the way he's entertaining the guest is way more intimate than you had instructed. The woman next to him is standing way too close to be proper, and she has one of her hands on his shoulder and the other one trailing down his chest. 
Of course. Typical man behavior, as soon as you're out of sight he's wrapped up in some other woman’s arms. And here you thought he actually cared. 
A dull pang starts out from the middle of your chest before it quickly spreads all across your ribcage in sharp stabs that take your breath away– a testament to the hurt you're feeling at this betrayal. He really got you fooled, huh?
You were contemplating whether to march off and slap the both of them silly or go back to your room, locking him out and crying your eyes out, when you hear his panicked voice floating into your full ears. 
"I'm married!" He stammers, trying to wiggle out of the woman's hold on him but she just steps closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him.
A rage like no other fills up your body at the sight, searing off the wounds that were just covering it from the perceived betrayal, but you force yourself to stand still and watch how this will play out. 
"So? All princes take mistresses. I hear she's not even letting you fuck her. What a heartless bitch." 
That’s it! You make a move to step forward and smack her filthy hands off your husband, but he does it himself, throwing her hands off him angrily. 
"Don't you dare speak about her that way." He shouts, furious in a way you've never seen him before. "She is my wife and I love her. She satisfies me much better than you could ever hope to do. I want no one else but her so kindly fuck off before you embarass yourself any further." 
You freeze. Beomgyu loves you?
Yes, you knew he liked you and he was never shy about expressing it, but love? 
It's at this moment, while you're rooted to your spot in shock, that Beomgyu finally sees you. A big smile replaces his affronted expression as he calls out to you. "Oh, darling there you are!"
But then he notices the look on your face and his own expression pales, his eyes jumping between you and the woman who is still standing next to him. "It's not what you think. I told her to back off, I swear."
Oh, he must think you're upset because of her. Well, you were but not at him. Not after he proved himself right in front of you. Still, this is a good distraction. It's better that he thinks that. You can't discuss the other thing now. You can’t even process it yet.
You quickly compose yourself and walk up to them, wrapping your arm around his waist and giving him a sweet kiss on his lips. "I saw." You smile at him before turning your withering gaze towards the woman. "You heard him. Fuck off and go find another man to lay under." 
The woman scoffs and walks off, shouldering you as she goes, but you don't care. You turn back to Beomgyu, and whisper cryptically to him. "I want to speak to you, dear. In private."
His eyes widened in fear. "Darling, I'm sorry–I really tried–"
"Let's go." You snap, pulling him after you into the garden. 
You choose a place deep enough into the garden you're sure no one will see you before you push him against a tree. 
"You just attract them, don't you?" You raise an eyebrow at him, pressing your thigh between his legs. "Standing out there looking all needy and pretty."
"I told her to go away." He cowers pitifully, but he’s already rutting his cock against your thigh. 
"But she just wouldn’t, huh?" You ask with mock sympathy, "You're just a helpless slut aren't you? Need me to be around you all the time to keep you in place?"
"No." He whines, shaking his head roughly. "I can behave. I can be good."
You spit on your hand and put it down his pants, stroking his cock and making him keen and melt into your touch. "Look how easily you give in." You tsk, "How long would you have held out if she did that?"
Beomgyu shakes his head again, tears brimming his pretty eyes. "Never would've given in. Only yours."
"Aw, how cute. This cock is only for me?" You murmur against his lips, palming the head of his cock and feeling his precum already leaking and wetting your hand. 
"Everything. I'm all yours." He confesses, his eyes conveying an affection so strong, you can't weather it. You take your hand out of his pants and flip the both of you around so you're the one pressed against the tree. "Fuck me." 
"Here?!" He gapes. 
"Yes. Want you here." 
"But anyone can see." He looks around as if searching for those phantom voyeurs. 
"Didn’t you say you’re all mine? Show them." You press your lips against his, coaxing him into giving in with sweet kisses that he craves. 
“Honey…” He whines, but you wrap one leg around his waist and pull him against you, his body reacting on its down and his hips bucking against you, his cock searching for your warmth that you’ve kept away from him for so long. 
You ignore his half-hearted protest, pulling his cock out of his pants and lifting the skirt of your dress up so he can feel you directly. His breath leaves him when he feels his cock glide against your wet pussy. “Oh… you’re not wearing anything underneath.”
“Uh-huh.” You nod, biting your lip and looking at him seductively. “Wanted to be all ready for you to take me. Didn’t know you’d be entertaining other women.” 
You’re really dragging out this other woman farce, partly because it’s fun watching him scramble to deny it and appease you, and partly because you feel entitled to him as your husband. You’re not going to be the woman forced to marry a man, only for him to cheat on her too. 
But still, you can’t deny the jealousy and hurt you felt seeing him with someone else after he’s spent the last few months professing his affection to you and forcing his way into your life. He said it’s only you he wants, right? Well, you want him to act like it, damned by the reasons behind your unwelcome feelings. 
Beomgyu’s eyes widen in horror and he finally presses forward, pushing his cock into you in one needy thrust. “No! Was only thinking about this pussy. I promise.” He wails in earnest, “Only want you.”
His words are like a balm to your wounded ego, and you reward him with a messy, open-mouthed kiss–the kind you know gets him all riled up. “Then fuck me like it.” 
“Yes, darling.” He holds up the leg you have wrapped around him with one hand and uses the other to grab your waist and press you flush against the tree, stabilizing you so he can drill his cock into you, an urgency to his movements that tops even your previous encounters. 
“Good boy.” You pant, feeling his cock hitting places deep inside you that have your toes curling. "Is this what you wanted all month?"
"Yes, baby. Been thinking of it every night, wished you would just flip over onto your tummy and let me fuck you." 
You grin evilly. “I know, baby. I felt that hard cock against me every night. Loved to wake up with it pressed right between my asscheeks.” 
“You’re so cruel.” He mewls, fucking into you desperately, making up for all the torture you put him through. 
“I know.” You laugh, trailing your hands up his body to play with his sensitive nipples, and when your thumbs brush over them, his hips stutter and he rewards you with the most debauched moans. 
“Fuck, don’t do that or I’ll cum.”
“But I want you to cum.” You retort, pulling lightly on his hardened nipples and causing his hips to give a particularly harsh thrust. "Cum inside me. Knock me up. Let them all know who you belong to."
Your words drive him crazy, and soon he’s fucking into you like a wild animal. "Fuck, you’re going so rough. Were you that needy?"
“Yes.” There is no shame in his reply, just pure want. He's not shy about letting his need for you show, his mouth wide open, panting heavily, and eyes glazed over as his hips slam against yours. "Thank you. Thank you for letting me inside your pretty pussy."
Just his face brings you close to the edge, and his wild thrusts threaten to push you over at any moment. 
"Look how slutty you look." You tease, cupping his face. "Are you all pussy-drunk, my dear?"
He nods, leaning into your touch and only managing a few garbled moans in response. 
"That's okay, pup. All I need from you is your pretty cock. You don't need to have any thoughts in that pretty head of yours. Just keep fucking me like a good boy." 
He nods again, enraptured, and his blind obedience finally sends you over the edge. 
“Fuck–fuck–good boy… good boy.” You moan out, the praise coming out long and slow as your body tenses up before spasming, your pussy milking his cock and drawing his own orgasm out of him. 
Beomgyu buries his face into your neck, letting out choked moans that later turn into heavy pants as his high crashes through his body. But even when his breathing settles down, he is reluctant to pull away from you. 
“Beomgyu?” You call out. He lets out a small hum and nuzzles further into your skin, mumbling something that you can’t quite hear.
“We need to go.” You start again, the leg he’s still holding up starting to cramp while the cool air bites at it, and he whines. “But this feels too nice.”
You smirk. “What does? Your cock all warm and snug inside my pussy?”
You feel his cock twitch inside you and he nods. “Yeah. Also this.” He says, running kisses up your neck that makes you shiver. “You never let me do this much.” 
You know. You only allow these intimate moments after sex, not wanting a repeat of what happened before, but also needing to limit them to protect yourself. Which is exactly why you want him to pull away now. 
“We have to go.” You repeat, jostling him a little bit, feeling your heart picking up at the precarious moment. You feel him sigh against your skin, and he finally pulls back. “Okay. Let's go to bed.” 
“Oh, we’re not going to bed. We’re rejoining the ball.” You say nonchalantly, holding back your laugh at the way he gapes at you once again. 
"But–but…." He stammers, his eyes raking over your body. 
"But your cum is dripping down my legs? I know." You smirk evilly, pulling him behind you. 
___________________
You and Beomgyu are stuck in a limbo of your own making, unable to let him in fully but also unwilling to shut the door in his face, stubbornly thinking that this way you’ll be saving yourself from any heartache. But can you really make that claim anymore when seeing him hurt himself over you wounds you just as much? 
That is the precise situation you find yourself in right now, running towards one of the rooms you’ve just been informed that Beomgyu and your previous suitor, Yeonjun, are dueling within. 
You expect this foolishness from Yeonjun. He has always been brash and hard-headed, always reaching for his sword when his words meet resistance. But Beomgyu? Has that idiot ever even been in a duel before? 
Your heart hammers in your chest as you run, images of Beomgyu struck down and bleeding coming unbidden to your mind. Fuck, if that idiot got himself hurt over some inane dick-measuring contest, you’re going to kill him yourself. 
When you gain entrance into the room and peek Beomgyu’s fallen form through the gaps in the crowd that formed around the two men, your heart falls to your feet and you get ready to grab Beomgyu’s sword and strike down Yeonjun yourself. 
But then you hear Yeonjun speak to him. “Come on, get up. Be a man.” 
After which a member of the crowd comments snarkily, “You’ve got the wrong person. If you want a fight then you need to look for his wife. She wears his balls around her neck.” 
You see red as you shove your way through the crowd and into the clearing in the middle. “Who said that?” You growl, surveying the crowd. No one speaks, and you laugh hauntingly. “Come on, show me how much of a man you really are. Surely, you’re not afraid of me, a woman?” 
Again, no one speaks up, and you scoff. “Of course, you are all a bunch of cowards who like to bully good people in order to feel better about your own vile, miserable selves.” 
“Hey, don’t speak to my men like that.” Yeonjun interjects and you shoot him a withering look. “What men? All I see are a bunch of dogs sniffing up their master’s ass.” 
At the insult, one of the men steps forward threateningly, but Yeonjun holds him back. 
“What? Are you going to hit a woman?” You challenge and he spits. “What woman? All I see is a rabid bitch.” 
No sooner had the man spoken than he was on the floor, felled by a punch from Yeonjun. “Don’t you dare speak to a lady like that.” 
The man looks furious but he holds his tongue, not daring to defy his master, choosing instead to get up and storm out. A few other men follow suit but Yeonjun ignores them, turning towards you, “I’m sorry about that, my lady. Please accept–”
“I will accept nothing. What gave you the right to come here and attack my husband?” You growl at him, walking towards Beomgyu and helping him off the floor. But Beomgyu doesn’t even glance at you, keeping his gaze on the floor and making you feel uneasy. 
“I wanted to see what you left me for.” He mutters bitterly, as if you had been together and you had left him to be with Beomgyu. He’s so fucking delusional. 
Yeonjun and you used to be childhood friends, and you suppose he assumed on the basis of that and by merit of him being the son of one of the most wealthy and influential men in the whole country, that you’d fawn at his feet and accept his hand when he proposed to you. 
But that couldn’t have been further from the truth. You liked Yeonjun well enough as children, but as you grew up he turned into a controlling asshole who tried to tell you what you can and cannot do, already acting as if you were his woman, something which you despised and have expressed so to him repeatedly. You don’t know how he could possibly have thought that you’d actually accept his hand in marriage but his scandalized reaction served to cement your decision even more. 
“I didn’t leave you for anyone. If you were the last man on earth, I still wouldn’t have picked you.” 
Yeonjun’s face grows pale at the harsh proclamation, but you don’t stay back to wait for his response, barking at one of the servants to help you take their prince back to his bed. 
______________________________________
But Beomgyu’s weird behavior persists even when you’re alone, and when you attempt to tend to his injuries, he withdraws from you harshly. 
"Why are you doing this? Am I so pathetic that even you feel sorry for me?" He hisses in disgust. 
"What has gotten into you?" You snap back, not willing to take shit from him too. 
"You want someone like him, don't you?” He accuses bitterly, and when you give him a confused look he continues. “Don’t deny it. You were childhood sweethearts. He told me you were set to be married before your parents forced you to marry a sissy like me."
"And you believed him?" You balk and he scoffs, looking away. "Then you’re even more of an idiot than I thought you were."
His head snaps back to stare at you, eyes glistening with tears. “You think I’m an idiot?” 
That’s what he focuses on? “Of course. You must be if you honestly think that I ever even entertained marrying that sexist, disgusting, pompous asshole."
“Then why did he say that?” He asks in a small voice and you yell out in frustration, “Because he can’t fathom how I can be happy with you and not him when everyone around him licks the ground he walks on.”
“You-you’re happy with me?” He peers up at you through his wet lashes and your heart hurls itself against your ribcage at the hope you see in his eyes. 
"Yes, I am.” You admit, and watch as the bright rays of happiness start to shine across his face, before they’re covered by another gloomy cloud. He shakes his head. “You just want someone weak to control. That’s why you like it with me.” 
You grab his face, a little rougher that you probably should but he was really pissing you off. “No, I want a man who is secure in his manhood that he doesn’t need to engage in these stupid dick measuring contests to feel good about himself. I want a man who is secure enough in himself that no matter how much I challenge him, he never lashes out at me for it. I want a man who even though I’ve been nothing but a bitch to him again and again, he still stuck by me because he saw the good in me when everyone else saw fault. I want you.” 
Beomgyu shoots forward, meeting your lips with his in a passionate kiss that you gladly reciprocate. He has been so brave for you. You can learn to be brave for him too.  
“I love you.” He professes when the need for air forces him to pull away. 
You cup his cheeks gently, staring into his kind eyes and hoping he’d be kind to you one more time, even if you don’t deserve it. “Just give me some time, okay? I promise I’ll get there if you give me a little more time.” 
That feeling of dread you get when you rebuff one of his advances and sit in fear of him finally getting sick enough of you to stop trying bubbles in your stomach as you wait for his response. But Beomgyu is even more merciful than you had ever dreamed of and his gentle smile washes away all your fear. 
“I will wait for as long as you need me to. I will never give up on you. I just needed to know that you wanted it too.” 
“I do. I really do. I want you.” Tears flow down your face unbidden and you let yourself be pulled into his warm embrace. 
This is what you could have if you could just learn to trust him–to really let yourself be cared for and loved without constantly being on the lookout for an inevitable betrayal. He can give you that. You know he can, and maybe with time, you too can give him everything he deserves. 
_____________________________
A/N: well there you go. honestly it came out a lot different than i had anticipated and a lot shorter, but i hope you still like it anyway. let me know which prince gyu is your favorite, yamqn pyscho prince gyu or sweet playful love you prince gyu?
if you can guess why the title is that, you get a treat.
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thebitchesterbrothers · 2 months
Text
Dream of the Endless is the prince of a small but wealthy and beautiful country. He’s not the oldest child so the crown will go to his oldest sister Death when his parents are going to die or abdicate one day.
He’s not important enough to rule one day but still too known to live an ordinary life. He grew up sheltered in a golden cage with certain expectations from his parents to live by. So he’s not surprised when one day his parents invite possible suitors for a lucrative wedding.
From Dreams perspective they leave him no choice but to flee from his own birthday party where he’s supposed to be sold off to the highest bidder.
And while his furious parents are busy firing his bodyguards Dream wanders through parts of the capital he’s never seen before.
He’s so high on the feeling of finally feeling free and unobserved for the first time in his entire life that he doesn’t pay close attention to his surroundings when he turns the corner.
Stumbling right into the arms of Hob Gadling.
Hob, who had spent the last ten years traveling and living abroad before returning home to finally settle down, maybe start a family of his own.
Hob, who never really kept track of the drama and scandals of the royal family.
Who doesn’t know that the beautiful - but slightly socially awkward and uptight - man in his arms is the most desired bachelor of his native country. And his prince.
But what he knows is that love at first sight most definitely exists because there’s no way in hell he won’t marry this dream of a man.
Needless to say that Dream spends the next week in Hobs tiny and barely renovated flat above the Inn Hob had recently bought. Half of that time he spends in Hobs embrace, the other half in his lap. Dream refuses to let his new love out of sight, clings to him, afraid Hob might find out about his family heritage and will try to get rid of him, trying not to get in trouble for hiding - and deflowering - the prince.
But eventually, on the eighth day Dream confesses he’s the prince everyone is so desperately looking for. The prince who’s supposed to be married off to a proper and, most importantly, rich spouse.
So on the ninth day Hob and Dream say yes to each other in an old chapel by the river, the only witnesses the priest and a tiny black cat who Dream takes home afterwards.
On the tenth day the royal family finds them and Hob finds out what he’s got himself into.
But looking at his gorgeous husband next to him he decides it’s all worth it if he gets to live the rest of his life side by side with him.
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ethereal-night-fairy · 3 months
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Heavenly saviour
This short fic was inspired by this artwork.
What if we had a reverse Knight Au where the reader is female knights similar to valkyries in the Thor movies. And Ghost gets to be the pretty prince who's been unfairly kept and tortured only to be saved by his darling. (Tbh I have no idea who's kidnapped ghost but I just want to see him be saved by a female knight)
I know I said female knight but I wrote this as gender neutral to include everyone who wants to play the saviour for ghost.
Prince!Ghost x GN Knight!reader
Masterlist
Words: 1k
Warnings: MDNI, gore, blood, torture, trauma, love at first sight, pining if you squint.
The dungeon is cold, dark and decrepit. The smell of mold and iron was suffocating. But he had no other choice but to breath it. Thankfully the darkness shrouded his mangeled body. Hiding it from his own view for the time being. But the mutilated images persisted in his mind. Simon heaved the air collapsing in his lungs. They had left him hung and from his ribs, red crimson liquid pooling at his feet. The hook so meanly embedded into his tender flesh. He was no better than a pig hung after slaughter. Though his captors weren't as kind to put him out of his misery. He wouldn't be surprised if it was his father who had sold him to these people for some cheap entertainment. The kingdom was on the brink of collapse anyway, the fucker was probably hoarding as much money as he could. Nor him or his brother could do anything to protect anyone from their fathers wrath. He vowed if he got out of here alive he'd do anything in his power to save his people and family from demise.
His muscles screamed from being pulled and stretched unnaturally. His vision blurry from the pain and stray tears. His pale body scarred beyond recognition. Red hot slashes decorating his supple flesh. His breathing becoming laboured as he whispers his mother's name thinking this was the end.
In his delirium he thinks he hears distant screams followed by shouting. Heavy footsteps by the dozen clambered down like thunder over his head. Their boasterous movement rung out through the manor vibrating down to the dungeon. Had someone come save him? Had God sent him a saviour? Had salvation finally come? If he could scream he would have screamed and shouted until his vocal chords tore but he was fatigued and barely able to keep his head up. If this truly was a hallucination he wishes to see his mother caressing his cheek before he passes. If he truly wasn't forsaken, God would grant him this small request before his last breath.
The screams died down, maybe it was all in his head after all. It was hard to tell if anything was real anymore. Maybe he was already dead and this was his purgatory. All he could see was the congealed blood at his feet. The same blood painted his skin an awful shade of red. He heard heavy footsteps descending the stairs. Ones he would often dread. So he waits patiently for whoever had decided to put him out of his misery.
When the crash comes he desperately opens his eyes to look at the broken entrance to the cellar. Trying to figure out if it was a friend or foe. There you stood in all your glory. The light coming from the lit staircase bounced off your armor creating a celestial glow around you. The tears in his eyes caused the light to distort making it look like the heavens had blessed his knight with golden wings.
He watched you walk towards him with confident steps. Your expression ghastly, a bloody sword clutched in your hand. He couldn't quite make out your features; he was too delirious at this point. But you look like an angel; here to enact divine justice. Everything felt fuzzy and shapeless the closer you got. Like he was floating away.
But that changed the second you touched his mutilated skin. You brought him crashing down to reality. Like Icarus plummeting to his demise, the only difference was you were here to catch him. Every nerve ending springs alive to throw him back in the cycle of his never ending pain. Your words are soft and soothing as you try to get him to settle. He wished he could make out your features properly. Wished he could burn your image into his mind. But fresh tears obstructed his view. Gasps and groans spill from his cut face when you pry away the hook that's lodged between his ribs, taking the brunt of his weight.
You lower his body to the ground as you tell you've got him now. That you'll take care of everything from here. He shows you a smile so kind and sweet you wondered how anyone had the heart to harm him. Though It didn't matter anymore they were all dead now. Laying in pools of their own blood when you had chopped them down like the animals they were. You watch the prince go in and out of consciousness as you tie rags to his most open wounds.
“Captain! King Price has sent word! The castle has been captured! All occupants were killed before the arrival of our army. Reports say the previous King went on a murder rampage before fleeing with a small entourage. Prince Simon wasn't found among the dead bodies!”, one of you soldiers comes down to report to you waiting at the entrance of the cellar. Your body obscuring his view of the person you were tending too. You take the handkerchief off on your arm as you go to tie it around the prince's face making sure not to obstruct his ragged breathing in any way.
“Go now tell the King all noble houses have been dealt with…Prince Simon wasn't found among any of the bodies”, the soldier leaves immediately at your words as you lift the Prince's body in your arms. Ready to carry him to safety. You'll report the truth to the King later. But there was no way you'd let this poor prince suffer any more humiliation than he had already experienced.
His brother and mother didn't deserve to die the way they did. And you'd do your utmost to make sure you'll protect the prince, like he had protected you when you were only but a mere peasant. His smile never changed, not even after all the torment he faced. Even though they had tried to carve it out of him; no bruise or scar could ever take away from his radiance.
This was a new era for him. One in which you plan to be his sword. To be his shield, to be his…just his. He could use you however he sees fit. You will stand by him regardless; come hell or high water.
Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.
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daydreamrot · 3 months
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If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power
a four-part medieval AU series feat prince! leon x fem! reader
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summary: a brothel worker with very little means and the prince of a kingdom have no business being in the same room, let alone becoming a couple. set in 1500’s europe, your chance meeting at a courtship ball sets off a cascade of events that will change the course of the nation forevermore. link to ao3
disclaimer: warnings, word count, and summaries will be present on each individual chapter posting. this series will include smut, and dark content. heed all warnings carefully.
chapter outline & masterlist
I. Bells in Santa Fe
II. Whispers
III. Ya’aburnee
IV. Epilogue - I am not a woman, I'm a god
author’s note: elle’s grand return to writing and it’s an AU… shocker!! i promise that on the surface, it may look very stereotypical, but if you stick with it — i guarantee there will be some plot points that you didn’t see coming. any support on this will mean the world to me as i try to dust the cobwebs off of my writing brain.
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taglist; @scar-crossedlvrs @kennedyswhore @xxacademy @emilzke @roseglazedlens @vxnillavampir @notrattus // if anyone would like to be tagged in this series or added to my taglist, let me know!
© daydreamrot, 2023-2024. the best way to show your support for my writing is to send asks/messages, reblog with your comments, or reply. interaction keeps writers writing! please do not copy/paste/translate my work without my permission and do not feed it to an AI.
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think0fmehigh · 5 months
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the heartbreak prince
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it’s you and me, there's nothing like this…
prince!matty x female reader
dedicated to @lottiecrabie <3
when your fiancé goes off to war, matty helps you feel a little less lonely.
warnings: 18+ (mdni), fluff, angst, dom!matty, sub!reader, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), praise, cheating/forbidden relationship, arranged marriage
wc: 6691
“Don’t believe I’ve ever seen you before…” 
A voice behind you takes your focus away from the expensive artwork that litters the corridors of the castle. You’ve been daydreaming for god knows how long, pretending you ruled every inch of this place, a princess running around the halls. The loud music and chatter no longer fill your ears, and you realize you’ve wandered quite far from the ballroom. Your face goes pale when you turn to see who the voice belongs to.
“Oh, Your Highness! Um–I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to uh—I’ll just make my way back to the ballroom.” You quickly curtsy and try to walk past him to get back to the party, but he stops you with a gentle touch on your shoulder.
“Hey, love, you’re not in trouble.” His smile is sweet and genuine; you notice tiny little crinkles form next to his eyes. “I needed to get away from there too.”
His laugh fills your ribs with butterflies. Fuck. You need to get back to Stephen. What time is it again?
“I appreciate your kindness, sir. I need to get back to my husband though, he’s probably looking for me...” 
The word husband leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You aren’t even married yet—The court couldn’t possibly fit the ceremony in before the army left for war, which was understandable, as this was quite sudden, but you’ve been waiting for half your life. Literally. You’ve been fucking betrothed to this man since you were fourteen, and now you’re not even sure he’ll make it back home alive, let alone make it back home to marry you. This is the only future you ever imagined, it’s the only one you’ll get…but what if something happens to him?
He’s strong, I mean the army’s commander had to be powerful, but the battlefield is the closest he can get to death. He’s surely not bad enough for you to wish death upon him. You pray he’ll come back safe. 
The prince’s smile drops and you take in a sharp breath. “Husband? You know maybe I actually have seen you before–”
“Well, the knight commander is my fiancé, so not my husband just yet.” You interrupt him accidentally, immediately smacking your hand over your mouth. Do you want to get yourself killed?
He chuckles and doesn’t seem to mind. What?
“Ah, you’re Stephen's girl…I’ve heard you’re a writer?”
“Uh, yes, sir.” You swallow harshly. Stephen would never say a thing about you, especially not to the prince of all people. You’re not sure how he knows of your work but you’re glad you don’t have to explain yourself as much as you thought. 
“Oh please, just call me Matty.” He extends his hand out and you take it, “Don’t need to be addressed like I’m some type of god…I’m the son of some snobby assholes. Not Christ himself.”
A giggle slips past your lips as you let go of his hand. You tell him your name. He is the opposite of every royal you’ve ever spoken to. It’s charming. Refreshing.
Matty looks you up and down and repeats your name to himself, smiling, “You remind me of a dove.”
“I don’t think I understand?”
“A dove, darling.” He repeats. You nod but furrow your brows in confusion and he laughs in response, “Innocent, gentle, quite beautiful...” 
Your cheeks heat up and your heart beats a little quicker. “Thank you, si–Matty.”
“Matty!” You both turn to see Stephen walking down the corridor– you look like a deer in headlights, but Matty keeps his sweet expression. “She causing you trouble?” 
“Not at all.” He winks at you as Stephen approaches, interlocking his arm with yours, “I don’t believe I’ve had the privilege to meet your lovely lady yet.” 
“She isn’t the party type. This one’s special though, right?” Stephen flicks his eyes from Matty’s to yours, turning his lips up in a grin. He’s right, this one was a celebration of him. Of the army in general, before they head off to fight. Like some good luck or farewell type of thing. You wonder why they don’t just put a banner up that says ‘Thanks for risking your life for us! Hope you don’t die!’
“Yep.” You look down at the floor, way more coy than you were a moment ago and you know your change in demeanor was obvious to Matty. It’s a bit embarrassing.
You’re a lost cause, as your father had told you once. Too ditzy, head always in the clouds. The men in your life often just spoke for you, fearing that the words that come out of your mouth would be too stupid or naive. 
“Well, I hope it isn’t too overwhelming. I’m glad you got a moment to be alone.” He bows slightly, “I should be getting back to the party though, very nice meeting you, darling.” 
“Was nice to meet you too, Matty.” He smiles and pivots around in the direction of the ballroom. 
“Are you ready to go back in?” Stephen kisses your cheek, most definitely being overly affectionate because Matty is in earshot, but it’s appreciated nonetheless. He’s not always in this good of a mood. “They put those little desserts out that I brought you that one day.”
“Ooo! Then I’m more than ready to go back!” You laugh, taking Stephen’s hand and leading him back to the ballroom. 
The rest of the night went by quickly, like that moment with the prince snapped you out of the daze you’d been in for hours. But it’s almost bittersweet to dance and celebrate tonight because this meant you would be sending your fiancé off to war the very next morning. 
Many women around the kingdom are married to soldiers and feel your pain. I mean almost all of them were here in the ballroom. Unlike them though, that fear in you also buzzes into freedom, independence. No Stephen meant less nagging and less time cooped up in the house. 
“Hey, again.” The familiar voice from earlier fills your ears again. You turn around to see Matty shoving one of the tarts from the buffet table in his mouth. 
“Hi, aren’t you supposed to be…doing prince stuff?” You smile politely, scanning his face.
He finishes chewing, “Got nothing to do right now, sweetheart, even my parents are drunk out of their minds.” 
“Oh, well, I’m not very interesting…” You motion to the groups of girls trying to act like they aren’t dying to get a chance to talk to Matty. “Shouldn’t you go talk to the fair maidens trying to win your heart?” 
“Don’t want them to win it.” He slurs a little bit, ale practically oozing off his lips. You smell it on his breath–he’s dangerously close to you. “Every single one of ‘em is a bore.” 
You frown. “How do you know they are boring if you’ve never spoken to them?” 
“‘S a very good and educated guess on my part.” Matty laughs, flicking his eyes down to the tight corset around your waist. 
You nod your head, unsure of how to continue the conversation. His presence is quite intimidating. 
“Where’s Stephen?” Matty takes a bite of another mini fruit tart. 
“I think–” You realize Stephen has left you alone again, and you have no idea where he’d run off to. “–I don’t know to be honest.” 
“Why’s he always leavin’ you alone? He doesn’t want to show off his girl?” He gives you a drunken smile, face softening when he notices you nervously bite the inside of your cheek. You want to cave in on yourself. “Don’t know what’s more important than spending time with your partner before you leave for a while.”
“Yeah…” Your lips form a straight line as you look at him, just wanting this night to be over already. He’s quite beautiful, with dark curls falling over his forehead, and you can tell he has some muscles by the snug-fitting dress shirt he wears. “I’d have to agree.” 
Matty shakes his head, taking another swig of his drink, “Can I show you something?” 
How many times will he be able to surprise you tonight? “You’re drunk, Matty.”
“I’m only a little bit tipsy— and I actually want to show you something ‘cause I’d think you’d find it funny. You were looking at the art earlier, I saw ya.” He motions for you to follow him and you look behind you, everyone too occupied to even notice. You sigh, taking his outstretched hand. His fingers are rough, making you wonder what kinds of things he gets up to. 
He leads you in the opposite direction that you had wandered before. The corridors on this side of the castle smell of cinnamon and tobacco. 
Matty walks you straight for a bit then turns a corner, your eyes meeting with a lavish great room. Beautiful paintings hang on the walls, and a few throne-looking chairs sit around a large table in the center of it all. He lets go of your hand and walks closer to a particular painting on the wall. It’s a dated portrait of him, curls flying in all directions under a golden crown. You follow behind him closely, but not too close. Is starstruck the right word to use right now?
He points at it, cocking his head. “Even with all these gorgeous paintings…my parents still commissioned this shit portrait of me at twenty-three.”
You can’t help but laugh along, picking up on his tone laced in sarcasm and displeasure. 
“It is shit isn’t it?” He grins at you, eyes drinking in your features with great focus. You resist eye contact though, his brown eyes too intimating on top of everything else.
“It’s not that bad, I swear,” you say honestly, finally forcing yourself to meet his eyes and mirror his smile, “I just think, you know, the real thing is better.” You extend your arms, gesturing to him as a whole. It is, really, his dark locks are more tame now, muscles more defined. He’s handsome. You can’t deny that.
“Well I’ve aged since then, so I would hope.” His hand grazes your shoulder, making your breath hitch in your throat. You shouldn’t be this affected by his touch, not with a ring on your finger, no. Fuck. He takes a step back and a swig of his beer. 
“It’s late,” he mumbles, giving you another soft smile. “I’ll help you find Stephen.”
You nod, heart twinging a bit at the thought of leaving this quiet room, leaving Matty. He’ll live in your head until you talk to him again, you already know.
It’s been a week and a half since Stephen headed off to war. The goodbye was tough and emotional for a lot of people at the docks. You tried your hardest to feel something, anything that these wives around you felt but all you could do was kiss him and wave as their ship sailed off. 
Some women in the village have bombarded you with questions, asking when your wedding ceremony was happening, when you and Stephen were going to have children– the usual nosy old lady things. 
As you walk to the market now, the questions that they asked swirl around in your mind. You gave them some polite responses, but truly you didn’t know any of the answers. You’ve found yourself writing more often than usual, trying to figure out how to express your feelings in words. Express how scary it is to have the future you were raised for be ripped away at any second. 
Your black cloak sways behind you in the autumn breeze. Your mother told you that you look like a witch when you wore it, which to her displeasure only makes you wear it more often. Maybe fewer people would speak to you, then. 
Voices grow louder as you near the square and you take your last moment of solitude to study the changing leaves above you. The orange leaves turn into the sight of pumpkins as you round the path, and you immediately put on a polite smile. You haven’t been to the market since Stephen left (as you’re barely cooking meals anymore), and you need to stock up on produce that preferably isn’t expired. The decaying peaches you tried to put in your oatmeal this morning told you it was really time to go shopping. 
Your fingers are curled tight around the handle of your wicker basket, making your way over to the stand that had a plethora of fresh fruits. You smile at the merchant, inspecting the peaches first. 
“Hey, little dove.” A soft, familiar voice pulls your gaze away from the fruit. 
You turn to see Matty standing next to you, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, wearing something way too casual for someone of his status.
“Matty? You should probably stay on the castle grounds, right? ‘Cause we are technically at war?” This is ridiculous if he’s risking his life and others by hanging out at the square for no reason. 
He laughs, exhaling a dark cloud of smoke. “Nobody knows what I look like if I’m not wearin’ a fucking crown. I barely attend anything in public. Plus—see these clothes? I’m basically invisible, love.”
“You’re being ignorant,” you roll your eyes. He’s not threatening to you anymore, here looking like a peasant with a smoke between his lips. Maybe he wasn’t really ever that intimidating…maybe the idea of him was. 
“Stop worrying so much,” Matty groans, plucking his cig from his mouth in between two fingers. “I’ve been making rounds here every day in search of you, so you’re the reason I’m still parading around here anyway.” 
You narrow your eyes at him, hoping this isn’t his way of telling you that you’ve done something wrong. “W-What do you mean?”
“Don’t think that I just forgot about you, sweet girl,” He smirks, tone heavy with desire. Your anxieties fade away when you see his soft expression. “I said, I’ve been coming down here every day in hope of seeing ya.” 
A blush creeps up on your cheeks, and you grin at him. Fuck, you’re screwed. “Is that so?” 
A sigh escapes from him and he jerks his chin toward the crate of peaches in front of you. “Pick which ones you want. I’ll pay.”
He shoves a hand in his pocket, not even looking at the bill in his hand before handing it to the merchant; she thanks him profusely. You pick out six peaches that look the best and set them gently into your basket lined with red checkered fabric. You look up at him, cocking your head as if to ask how much he paid her– All he does is shoot you a wink. 
Without another word, he guides you out of the produce market and into the main part of the square again. “I could tell she was getting impatient.” He chuckles. 
“Well, I think that your overpaying was a good enough apology to her.” You point out, studying the people walking around, and still trying to understand why Matty is here in the first place. “You’re royalty. Couldn’t you have just found out where I live?” 
“We don’t have tabs on everyone in the village if that’s what you think. And I didn’t want to scare you by showing up to your house unannounced.”
You shake your head. “Wow, how kind of you.” 
He brushes his hand against your arm. “I’m being honest. Also, I just like being amongst my people, hope that’s not too hard to believe.” 
He’s dragging this on, and you have no idea why. 
“Matty,” you say sternly, “Why did you need to talk to me?”
Matty suddenly gets quieter. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” 
You relax your body, a soft smile spreading across your face. He wants to know that you’re safe. His caring nature is endearing, and you’re not used to men like him. If anything, it tempts you even more. 
“A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be left alone for so long,” he admits, eyes flicking to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “You must be quite lonely all by yourself, love.” 
You have to shut your eyes for a second to regain your composure. A warm body near you isn’t really something you thought you miss so much. But it's not all too different from your normal routine; you’re used to feeling lonely most of the time anyway. 
“Honestly yeah, fuck– I’m lonely,” you sigh, “I was before Stephen even left, Matty.”
Being neglected by your fiancé isn’t something you’re too fond of sharing with the prince, but he makes you feel oddly safe. He’ll listen to you and lock away your secrets, throwing away the key.
Matty hums, taking your hand in his and bringing it up to his lips. He plants a kiss on the back of it, humming. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that, sweet girl.”
His lips against your skin send a fire through your veins, even if they only touched you for a fleeting moment. He pulls his head away, but your hand is still in his. He squeezes lightly. 
You approach the castle’s courtyard, taking in the smell of roses that grow around the paths. Matty had finished your shopping with you the other day, helping you carry a couple of pumpkins back to your cottage as well—for the Autumn spirit. You can admit the house is looking a little gloomy, especially at this beautiful time of year. You thanked him, pecking his cheek. The cherry blush on his cheeks was so obvious, and it made your heart swell with adoration. You do something to him, maybe the same thing he does to your mind. You secretly hope it’s the same, but the thought of Stephen in the back of your head pulls you away from him. 
He wanted to show you the gardens (he’d gotten on a tangent about plants and you mentioned that you grow flowers at home), insisting that you meet him the next evening as he set the pumpkins down on your porch. You agreed, of course, now clutching the long material of your dress to not slip as you walk up the stone steps.
When you get up the looming set of stairs, you see Matty’s back turned to you, head tilted, watching the sky fade into orange and pink. You swear you’re gazing at a painting with the beauty of it all. It draws you in closer.
“Matty?”
He turns around, startled, but immediately relaxes when he realizes it’s you. A grin stretches across his face. “Hey, darlin’.”
You come up next to him and smooth out your dress, looking down in an attempt to shield the ever-present smile he gives you. “Don’t need to hide that smile from me, dove.” He gently tilts your chin up with a calloused thumb, “There she is.” 
It’s impossible not to let out a giggle, cheeks heating up at the way he intently stares at you. No man has ever made you feel so fucking weak.
He removes his hand from your jaw, but the warmth of it stays lingering. “Let’s go, shall we?” 
You nod, starting to walk with him further up the path, entering the garden area that was lined around the edges with neatly trimmed hedges.
Conversations with Matty are always a joy, whether it was talking about his numerous adventures or your dream of becoming a published writer. You felt like he understood you in a way that no one else had ever bothered to. Sure, you have friends, but Matty feels different. 
“I’m not the one that tends to the gardens, but I spend a lot of time out here,” he says, admiring the blood-red rose bushes. 
“To smoke, or just a natural inclination to stop and smell the roses?” You raise a brow, mischief on your tongue. You think back to the first day you met him, how you were scared to even address him by his name and not a formal title. 
He chuckles. “Smoke, yeah,” he pauses, licking his lips, “but I’ve grown quite fond of the peace the garden brings.”
“Sounds so profound,” you tease, but a soft gasp escapes you when he intertwines his fingers with yours, maybe because of a lack of words. 
You continue to walk through the garden, hand-in-hand with Matty, electrified by his presence. It’s so wrong—your fiancé’s out fighting for his life for god’s sake. You should pull away, but you don’t. It feels so good to be wanted. 
It’s a full moon tonight, so the garden is easily illuminated by the bright moonlight shining down. You’re sitting next to him now on a concrete bench. You are starting to feel a bit more aware of the cool night air around you, shivering as you diligently listen to Matty ramble about a book he read recently. 
He pauses when his eyes land on you. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you out here for so long.” He takes his fancy coat off, draping it over your shoulder. A lazy smile spreads across your face as you’re engulfed in his scent, in his warmth, in his voice. You’ll never get him out of your brain at this point. 
“You can keep me here as long as you like,” you say, smiling. “‘M all warm now.” 
He laughs and gazes at you with admiration. “Looks good on you, little dove.”
A silence falls over the two of you, but it’s a comfortable one. The castle beside you emits flickers of amber candles, light spilling from the windows. The smell of Matty and the smell of roses blends with the sound of crickets chirping wildly, the moon full and bright all have you letting out a relaxed sigh. He was right, the garden brings a sense of overwhelming peace. 
“Why haven’t you married yet?” It’s your turn to surprise him. You’re genuinely curious though, it’s not common for royalty to have such freedom for so long. 
“Because I’ve refused to marry this one girl for political reasons. I’ve met her and everything, she’s fit I guess. But like—I’m trying to be my parents’ worst nightmare right now—to prove a point.” He laughs, amused by causing his family misery. “Soon her family will get impatient and find another prince to marry their daughter off to. Shame.” 
He pulls a cigarette out of his pocket and looks over to you. “Lighter is in the inside pocket,” he says, gesturing to the jacket draped over your shoulder. You take it out and hand it to him, humming. You admire the way he stands his ground, it reminds you of the way you rebel against your own family, of course just little things though. Power isn’t something you have a lot of.
“What a rebel,” you snort, watching him raise the lighter up to the end of the cig between his lips. It’s mesmerizing, the white paper against his red lips, the golden flame held to the end, the way his fingers—
“Do you want to try?” His honey voice snaps you out of your thoughts. He tilts his head up to let the cloud of smoke out of his lungs. You watch it climb up to the moon but disperse before it can get there. You’ve never had a cigarette in your life, but it’s so inviting, Matty’s so inviting. 
“Yes…” you breathe, watching his lips turn up into a smirk. 
“Just–just breathe in when I exhale okay?” He cocks his head and you nod, unsure of what he’s wanting to do. 
It becomes clear when he takes another drag and leans in, lips so close to yours you can almost taste them. You open your mouth and a shiver runs down your spine as he exhales the smoke—you breathe in just like he said. The smell of tobacco, well you were used to it, and it tastes the same, but the buzz in your head from the nicotine is new. You like it. 
He smiles proudly. “Good girl.” 
Something in you snaps when those words come out of his mouth, having to clench your thighs together in hopes of reliving some of the ache. 
He stands up from the bench and you worry for a moment but he lets out a relieved sigh as he stares up at the moon. “So beautiful.” 
You follow suit, with no doubt in your mind that this man wants you as much as you do. You clutch his jacket between your fingers. “It is.” 
Matty gazes down at your glossy eyes for a moment before reaching behind him to pick a rose off one of the bushes. The moon reflects off his soft eyes.
“Matty, that’s not—” He once again cuts you off, as he places the rose behind your ear and chuckles. Your heart’s about to fucking beat out of your chest. 
“Not as beautiful as you, though.” He brushes your hair away from the flower and his fingers graze against your cheek. It all seems to fall into place when he places his lips on yours, a chastise kiss before pulling away again. He sees the hesitation on your face. “Oh, fuck— I’m sorry.” 
You kiss him again, cradling his cheeks as he moans softly into your mouth. His body relaxes into yours. Fuck Stephen, fuck your parents. Matty is something so forbidden— you want him in every way you can get him.
Your silk nightgown does nothing to shield you from Matty’s wandering eyes, opening the door of your cottage a bit wider for him to come inside. It’s half-past midnight, exactly the time you usually find yourself with him. The only time that he could get out of the castle with no guards, pretend he’s still in his chamber while he fucks you within an inch of your life; or so you hope that’s what he wanted to come here for. 
The past few nights you’ve been thinking about his lips on yours, how you so desperately wanted him to take you up to his bed that night and show you just what he can use those hands for. It’s sinful, but you don’t care anymore. Stephen fucked you once, or twice, but you’re very aware he usually gets off with a random girl in the village. Maybe he treats her better than he treats you. 
That rage, the lack of control you’ve had your entire life over your relationships is what makes you pull Matty closer to you by the collar of his white linen. 
“Eager, are we?” He slots his lips against yours, tongue slipping in quickly. Your hands find his dark curls, tugging on them, you’ve been dreaming of the velvet feeling of them between your fingers since you met him. 
“You know exactly what I want,” you mumble against his lips, moaning as he pulls you closer to his body—his erection pressing against your front. “So don’t wait.”
“Fuck, darling…” He backs you up to the wooden desk you’ve found yourself at every day and night. The memory of his hands all over you will be etched into your brain whenever you work. Shit. “Turn around.” 
His voice is stern, commanding. It makes wetness pool in your underwear as he bends you over the mahogany wood. Men have so much control over you and you hate it, but Matty’s demands only make you want to get on your knees. Please him, like a good girl is supposed to. “Tell me if it’s too much.” 
He rips your panties down your legs, flipping up the material of your nightgown. You step out of your panties and he tosses them onto the floor. Your brain is slowly turning into mush with every touch, every word. He crouches down, face level with your pussy. A deep groan comes from his chest. Just as eager as you are. 
“Oh, my sweet little dove….” Matty presses a kiss to your ass before switching his attention to your cunt, dragging his thumb up your warm folds, the action making your head drop down on the desk, “So fucking wet for me.”
You mewl, pushing your hips closer to his face, earning a harsh spank from the man below you. 
“Be patient. I promise you’ll get to cum on my cock ‘til you’re dumb and drooling—just let me play with you first, darling…” He attaches his mouth to your pussy, lapping at your arousal. His hands grip your thighs, moaning as he goes to suck your clit. You clamp your hand over your mouth. Your muffled moans make Matty’s cock strain harder against his slacks.
“He really doesn’t pay attention to this pretty little pussy like he should, huh?” Matty smirks, kissing your clit before dipping back down to your entrance. 
“No, no, he doesn’t—fuck—mm,” you purr, causing a groan to rip from his chest. 
“Fuckin’ perfect, god, you’re so perfect,” he murmurs against your pussy, moaning out. He’s finally getting a taste of you — a taste of the very nectar he’s wanted since he first met you. It’s even better than he ever imagined.
Matty splays his left hand across your lower back, moving his right hand to tightly grip your hip; he isn’t going to let you interrupt his meal with your constant squirming. “Be a good girl for me and stay still…let me enjoy you. I know you can be good.”
Your fingers move to curl around the edge of the desk, needing something to hold onto when he suddenly takes his hand off your back and sneaks it down to slip a finger inside you. “Ah, mm, w-wanna be good for you…”
He chuckles and starts to thrust his digit into you, adding a second finger not long after. “‘M gonna have you fucking dripping with my cum—shit—gonna fuck you brainless.”
“Please, please, need it please.” You beg and he stops his movements, pulling his fingers out of you. A whine slips from your lips. “Matty…”
“I need to see you.” He stands up and pulls you up into his chest, your nightgown falling back down over your legs. Matty peels off the top of it, tugging it down your body; the material pools at your ankles and he curses under his breath. “Oh, you’re going to kill me, dove…” 
His finger traces over the underside of your bare breast as he brushes his nose against your ear, “Fucking beautiful...”
“Please, I need you—please.” You whine into his ear and a shiver runs down his spine. He’s willing to do anything for you, truly. His hands move to your chest and you raise your left arm so your hand now rests on his nape. 
“Such gorgeous tits,” he hums and cautiously starts to knead your tits– You don’t stop him. His fingers make their way to your nipples, rolling and pinching them, causing a moan to rip from your throat. 
“Am I losing ya already, baby?” Matty nips at your neck, continuing to play with your tits as you fall apart in his arms. He smirks at your pliant body, turning you around and pushing you down so you’re sitting on the edge of your bed. 
“No, ‘m here—I promise, just do something, Matty, please…” Matty tosses your dress onto the floor and runs his hands up your thighs, brown eyes staring into yours. He is the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. You reach up to cradle his cheeks, stroking your thumbs over his milky skin. 
Matty’s touch-starved, you could see it. He’s been holding out for a girl who caught his eye, a girl who is everything he dreams of. To him, the idea of having to marry for political reasons is devastating—he wants love, even passion. He wants you. 
“I would’ve married you by now,” He whispers and kneels between your legs. The prince…on his knees for you? This is something straight out of a dream. “If I had met you sooner.” 
“We would’ve already had the most lavish wedding, everything you’ve ever wanted.” He presses kisses to the tops of your thighs and your breath hitches. “He’s a fool for not treating you like the princess you are.” 
“Matty.” You rake your nails through his curls and his eyes flutter shut. “I want you.” Even though heartbreak—the thought of what could’ve been— swirls around your mind, you distract yourself in the pleasure he gives you now. It’s all you need to do right now. 
“Oh, darling...I want you too.” He smiles, tooth-rottenly sweet and genuine. You adore being the one girl that makes him feel whole because he—he is the one thing that has been missing from your life. You’re sure of it. 
“Let me show you just how bad.” He spreads your legs wider, your glistening pussy finally on perfect display for him. 
He circles his thumb around your clit, red velvet lips parted as he watches your body relax. You hum, head lolling back. Matty replaces his thumb with his tongue, kitten-licking at your clit, watching every reaction you have. You mewl, tugging his hair and looking down at him. Seeing his soft eyes gazing up at you while he starts to lap at your pussy makes your brain short-circuit. “Shit—feels so good…”
“Taste so sweet, fuck,” Matty mumbles before licking a stripe from your hole to your clit. He puts a hand on your chest, pushing you onto your back, devouring you. Your skin is flushed and you know you’re already looking fucked-out. You don’t care though, arching your back and grinding on his face as he finds the spots that make you cry. 
You moan out, eyes fluttering shut when you feel pressure building in your belly. You’ve brought yourself to an orgasm countless times, but it’s never felt as strong as this. You feel like your entire body could burst in pleasure. The dim candlelight flickers on his face just like it had the garden. You think about him mentioning a girl his parents wanted him to marry, how he could’ve had her in bed every night. He waited for someone worthy of his love, you're convinced the universe made him wait for you.
“Gonna cum sweetheart?” He makes a particularly skilled swipe across your clit before sucking harshly. “Want ya to drench my face, pretty girl, please?” 
A few more flicks of his warm tongue have you reaching a mind-numbing orgasm, gripping his outstretched hand for dear life. He licks up your cum, moaning into your cunt again. You’re going fucking insane. 
He comes up from your pussy, chin glistening with your slick— crashing his lips onto yours again. You unbutton his tunic as he kisses you roughly, sliding it off his shoulders with ease. His inked chest is revealed to you. You’ve seen the chest tattoo poking from his shirt only a little, you never could’ve imagined the ink that lies underneath his ironed suits and dress pants. 
You trace a finger over the one on his chest, making him gasp into your mouth. “Is this another form of rebellion?” You giggle, relishing in the feeling of his weight on top of yours. 
“Yeah, mostly. Just wanted them for myself though too.” He dips his head down and begins to lick at your neck, leaving kisses on every inch of your skin. “You like ‘em?” 
You nod lazily, tugging at the waistband of his trousers. He laughs, removing himself from you to take off his shoes and socks, then his pants and boxers. 
He’s left on display before you, leaking, hard cock standing. You lick your lips, opening your legs a bit wider– an invitation.
“Please?” He savors the way your swollen lips plead for him to give you what you want. Your hair is messy, flying in all directions. Somehow, you’re managing to outdo every single fantasy he’s ever had. 
He suddenly brushes your clit with his calloused thumb, enticing a strangled moan from you. He smirks, leaning down over you to nip at your neck.
“M–Matty–“ His name falls from your mouth, drenched in need. You’d been so good for him and your cunt is aching for more, aching for his cock. Desperately needing something, anything, from the man sucking and biting at your burning skin. 
You let out a whine, burying your face into his neck, attempting to quiet your moans as he slowly pushes into you. Giving you what you want, what you need. 
“So. Fucking. Perfect.” He rasps, punctuating every word with a thrust, “So patient…been fuckin’ waiting for me to fuck you, hm?” You nod feverishly. 
“Yes, fuck, dreaming of it.”
Matty growls, lifting you further up the bed to give himself space as he climbs up, having to pull out from your wet cunt for a moment. You gasp at the sudden feeling of emptiness, holding yourself up with your elbows, pouting at the tormentor between your legs. 
He spreads your legs wider, both knees bent with your feet planted on the white sheets. You’re left on perfect display for Matty's hungry eyes. He reaches up to cradle your breasts, starting to toy with your hardened nipples. The action makes your eyes squeeze shut, back arching into his chest. He leans back for a moment, quickly admiring your flushed body sprawled on your bed. Your swollen, red cunt drips with arousal, all because of him. His words, his teasing, his cock, him. 
“So beautiful…all spread out for me like this, ” He groans, dragging two fingers up your slit, collecting your wetness on his fingertips. He raises the two fingers to your lips and you open your mouth for him, swirling your tongue around his digits, earning a throaty groan from him. He hoists one of your legs over his shoulder, pushing his length back into you, fingers still in your mouth.
You moan around his fingers, eyes rolling back into your head as he finally starts fucking you again, creating a steady pace. His grip on your leg tightens as he pulls his fingers away from your tongue, a trail of saliva connecting them to your lips. He drags them down the valley of your breasts, all the way down to your neglected clit. His thumb rubs tight, fast circles on your bundle of nerves; the bed pounds against the wall with each thrust into you. 
“So good, Matty, fuck!” You cry out, nails digging into the skin of his biceps, “‘M so close…” You moan through staggered breaths, clawing at his tatted arms.
Matty’s thrusts become sloppier as he buries his face into your neck. He groans loudly, simultaneously letting your leg drop-down, wrapping it around his waist instead. He peppers kisses on your neck, his thumb still working on your clit. Your fingers dig into the sheets, bunching the fabric tightly in your hands.
“Go on, dove, cum for me,” he murmurs into your collarbone, “Good little girl. So good…”
Your climax hits you almost immediately, his name falling shamelessly off your tongue over and over again. He curses when he feels you cum around him, the view of your face contorting in pleasure sending him over the edge. He slows a bit as he coats your insides with his warm cum—his hips still slowly fucking you through both your highs. 
His sweaty body collapses on top of you, breathing rough and chest heaving. You’re blissed out of your fucking mind as he moves and pulls out of you a few moments later. You barely register it but you feel his cum dripping out of your cunt and onto the sheets. 
“My best girl, fuck.” Matty pulls you into his chest as he lays back on the pillows, your eyes fluttering shut as he covers both your tired bodies with the duvet. He presses a kiss to your forehead, lulling you to sleep with his hands in your hair. 
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midnightfire830 · 8 months
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“Hurry up! We gotta go! The guards’ll be here any minute!!”
My boy couldn’t go without leaving a note! He’s and idiot, but he’s not THAT much of an idiot!!!
I probably went overboard on the background and lighting. Welp. What else is new…
🤦🏻
Let me know! Do we like this style of story telling? Making single panel drawings of the various events in the storyline? (Idk what else to call that style tho TWT)
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zhounauts · 8 months
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crown prince!lee heeseung x f!reader // warnings: cursing, fainting (?) part two series masterlist
a/n got inspo for this after rereading this reincarnation webtoon i used to like a lot, these reincarnation stories are lwk a guitly pleasure of mine so i was like why not write one
+ is this even considered an x reader??? like heeseung hates u oopsie lolz
anyways enjoy (hopefully)
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YOU WOKE UP WITH AN EPIPHANY , to give the two leads their happy ending. despite the fact that you had woken up in a stereotypical reincarnation manhwa, the author was far from stereotypical. not only did she have a strange almost concerning obsession with her two main leads, but she was also a goody-two shoes rule follower who told you that the original plot of the story and every single event must be followed and copied to perfection.
unfortunately for her, you said fuck that, had knights take her away and put her in a mansion on the outskirts of the kingdom where she wouldn't be able to reach you. so now, instead of scheming devious, nefarious acts against the female protagonist you now took advantage of your personal chef who worked relentlessly at your constant requests to try all the fancy dishes you could've never afforded in your previous life.
"the audacity!" rina, your maid suddenly exclaims, holding a letter.
"i can't believe this! my lady, this is outrageous! how can saintess sora write and send something so shameless!? " faye your second maid exclaims.
"hm?" you ask, focusing on the blueberry cheesecake in front of you, "what happened faye?"
"the saintess sent an invitation for her tea party! she wrote, 'countess i know we are not on good terms because of the crown prince, but the other ladies and i hope that you will join our humble tea party, and put aside your grudge'" you chew on the cake.
"oh, okay,"
"OKAY!?" the two scream.
"m-my lady! how does this not bother you? she is being disrespectful and using the fact that she has the crown prince's affections despite you are his soon-to-be wife!"
"oh, that's true," you shrug, "what can i do about it? if he likes her better okay then, i don't want to marry him anyways," rina collapses into faye's arms.
"my lady! rina are you--"
"with all due respect, but my lady, back then you would've done something! why the change of heart now?"
"well. . .he doesn't like me?? like it's pretty obvious, and i was just naive and uhm, craving for male validation back then or something like that i guess. it doesn't matter to me anymore,"
". . ."
"besides, his highness prince jay is more my type ,"
"MY LADY-"
"I MIGHT FAINT-"
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after calming down your fainting maids, you had reassured them that you would go to the tea party and give the female protagonist, saintess sora, a taste of her own medicine for the disrespect she had sown you. (you were not planning this at all)
so now here you were, a week later getting dressed for the pain-in-the-ass tea party. "my lady we will dress you up to be the most beautiful at the party!" your maids exclaim.
"that's really. . .not necessary you know? i'll wear one of the dresses i usually wear," rina starts to lecture you, before a knock interrupts. faye rushes out of the dressing area, to open the door.
"your highness!" she exclaims, bowing. you peek out from behind the dressing area and head out.
"my lady you are not ready--"
"your highness, a pleasure to have you here," you say, bowing.
"y/n," heeseung addresses coldly, "are you attending sora's tea party?"
"yes, your highness,"
"she was telling me she was worried you would reject her request, due to your dislike for her," he says, narrowing his eyes at you bitterly. you stare at him unimpressed.
"my apologies, your highness, if i offend you by saying this. however you and saintess sora seem to be mistaken,"
"my lady don't--"
"i literally don't give a shit,"
"oh dear gods," rina mutters, and she collapses.
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a/n lemme know how it was 😋😋
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wolfytae-exe · 3 months
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thinking ab prince gyu...
oh.. hes so.. so..
so prince beomgyu and bodyguard reader
you who’s lived along side prince gyu since childhood, vowing to always protect him, falls in love. No, not with beomgyu, with his older brother Yeonjun, the heir to the throne. For years you’ve been under his charm, as a young girl you envied who would be crowned his queen, you were a mere guard, however, no Prince in their right mind would make a guard a queen.
Except for Beomgyu, oh how badly he hated you being a mere guard. And how badly he hated his brother for charming you before him. Not to worry, his bribe to the forbidden wizard out of the Royal Palace will easily give him not only the girl of his dreams but the throne too.
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ashhh-14 · 5 months
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OC's I created, which I'll gladly be writing about, on request or when my heart sings for them~
All the necessary information about them and their characterization is given below, take your pick and request on whoever you like!
Pictures belong to the rightful owners! Mwah~
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Name-> Samuel
Age-> 20
Eye colour-> Cedar brown
Modern setting
The barista who works down the street at a cafe, also does his degree in literature at your university.
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Name-> Theodore
Age-> 28
Eye colour-> chocolate brown
Medevial setting
A scholar, manages the largest library of Ashford Kingdom. He also assists the Royal family with his knowledge.
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Name-> Lucifer
Age-> 24
Eye colour-> Red
Modern setting
Runs a mafia business after inheriting it from his father. Also owns a successful clothing brand.
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Name-> Arthur
Age-> 36
Eye colour-> Paris brun
Medevial setting
A duke by profession in the Ashford Kingdom. Manages the civil affairs after the royal family.
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Name-> Issac
Age-> 25
Eye colour-> Golden
Medevial setting
First born prince of Ashford Kingdom. Soon to be crowned as the king.
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Name-> Xavier
Age-> 22
Eye colour-> Pecan Brown
Modern setting
Right hand man and friend of the owner of 'the frenzy'
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Name-> Adam
Age-> 19
Eye colour-> Sky blue
Modern setting
A science major at your university.
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Name-> Hunter
Age-> 26
Eye colour-> Jade green
Modern setting
Owner of the 'H.S. corporation', took after his dad after finishing his degree in Business management.
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Name-> Leonard
Age-> 27
Eye colour-> Jet black
Medevial setting
An expert martial artist, taking after the skills of his master and becoming next in line. Owns his own dojo.
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Name-> Ace
Age-> 21
Eye colour-> Forest green
Medevial setting
Second born and younger prince of Ashford Kingdom.
Let's keep their personalities a secret for now! I have them in mind but I want to portray them through my writing rather than simple words!
Please feel free to request I'd love to write them!
Mwah~
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nramv · 4 months
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prince ellie....save me prince ellie... save me
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365 notes · View notes
teaaleefs · 8 months
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𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 - 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷/?
Pairing: prince!KaeyaAlberich x fem!reader
Cw: mentioned violence/threats, I’ve never written Kaeya before so bare with me, fluff, pre-established couple, secretly dating, short as hell, will have more parts (eventually I’m just slow) | Wc: 1216
Synopsis: you’re his secret lover and the prince wants to take you out.
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Kaeya walked down the hallway of the palace, each step making a resounding clack. The halls were mostly empty, the servants having already cleaned the floors, opened the curtains, finished what they needed to.
The hallway bustled, but one servant was slowing down.
(Name) walked down the hallway, walking towards Kaeya’s direction. A basket of laundry laid in her hands, the clothing obscuring her view of what laid ahead ever so slightly. Her movements slowed by the heavy object, but still attempting to make haste. She was behind on her chores and didn’t need yet another scolding from the housekeeper.
Kaeya would slow his own walking pace, his eyes following after (Name) before he decided to clear his throat; an attempt at catching her attention.
(Name) stopped once she heard the sound, looking over the laundry basket and letting her eyes land on the prince. “Good morning, your highness. How are you this morning?” She asked politely, a kind yet formal air about her.
Kaeya gave a once over before stepping towards her, a sigh escaping him as he spoke, “There’s no need to be so formal when we’re talking amongst ourselves, (Name).” He replied with a chuckle, his hands holding onto the other side of her laundry basket. “With that being said, I’ve been doing well, my dear. So, what about you?”
A small silence passed between the two before (Name) sighed, a tension releasing from her posture and expression. Instead, it was replaced by a familiar casualness; affection even. “Fine, fine.” She huffed in defeat, adjusting her hold on the laundry basket. “I’ve been fine. Same as always— just work, you know?”
“Then how about we do something new?” He asked, a new light beginning to dance in his eyes. An idea brewing up in his mind, perhaps something fun. Maybe something dangerous, it was never clear with this prince.
(Name) only raised a brow in response, curiosity getting the better of her. “And what do you mean by that, Kaeya?” She asked, voice full of intrigue.
“Let’s visit town—“
“No.” (Name) immediately cut him off, concern radiating off of her stern tone. “You need a guard with you, not a servant. I will not allow you to risk your life simply because you want to spend time with me—“
Now it was her turn to be cut off. Kaeya had stepped closer, his face mere inches from hers. The only thing between them was the laundry basket and Kaeya was keen on moving it away.
“Do not worry about that, my dear. We’ll be careful.” He reassured, his eyes scanning his lover's face.
Still, instead of acceptance (Name)’s gaze held apprehension; caution. “But what about last time? Those assassins nearly recognized you.” She muttered, voice dropping just in case someone ends up passing by.
Now that got Kaeya to take a sigh and lift his head up to glance around briefly. After a short silence his gaze went back to (Name). “It won’t happen again.” He promised quietly, his words and gaze sincere. Even if he was promising something that was out of his control.
“I’ll wear a better disguise than a cloak and a change of clothes. It’ll be fun, you’ll see.” He tried to reassure once more, one of his hands moving to rest on his lover’s shoulder. Even a small smile settled on his lips.
So with pursed lips and brief look around, very reluctantly, (Name) agreed. “This couldn’t be a dumber idea.” She mumbled. Even so, it’d been clear that Kaeya had won her over.
In celebration of his victory, the prince took the laundry basket out of (Name)‘s hands and set it on the floor. With it out of the way, he was free to pull her into a dimmer corner of the hallway, his hands holding her securely by the waist.
His eyes settled on her once more, finally taking in the features of his (Name). The features he could only caress in the dark of the shadows or silence of the night. His hands soon rose to (Name)’s face, fingertips lightly running along her cheek. “Thank you for trusting me.” He whispered softly.
In response to his touch, (Name) leaned her cheek into his hand. “Yes, yes… you’re welcome.” She sighed, still not completely on board. But the triumph on the prince’s face made it worth it.
“When will we go?” She asked with a new found interest, growing increasingly comfortable with the idea - albeit slowly.
Kaeya thought for a moment, his eyes flicking around as he thought. “Let’s go this evening. When you’re done with your duties and I am free from my father’s speeches. Then we can enjoy ourselves.” He said, his eyes settling back onto (Name) once more. He then leaned forward, his forehead resting against (Name)‘s.
“We will have fun. And more importantly I’ll be safe.” He soothed once more, a light smile gracing his lips which soon pecked (Name)’s forehead.
(Name) looked up at him, a look of resignation on her face. He had won her over completely now. “Fine.” She replied, her voice just as hushed as his.
With a small sigh, (Name) forced herself away from the prince, taking a few steps away from him and the corner. “I need to get back to work. I don’t need to be scolded by the housekeeper, you know?” She said in explanation. Although her reluctance to leave his embrace was more than obvious.
Kaeya nodded slowly at her words, “I understand. Don’t work too hard now, alright?” He asked sincerely, although his tone showed a light tease. It only eliciting a small chuckle from (Name), his lover appreciating his light hearted tone.
“I’ll try. See you soon?”
“See you soon.”
~~~
When the evening arrived, (Name) was waiting just outside the palace. Hidden behind a stonewall from preying and nosy eyes, she waited for Kaeya to arrive.
After a good fifteen minutes though, she sighed to herself. “Is he still busy with his duties?” She couldn’t help but wonder to herself.
“I’m not.” A voice chuckled in response.
(Name) turned her head to the side, a hooded figure in view. She already recognized him. But she was thankful he had put more care into disguise, “Finally! You were taking forever.” She scolded first, although when she approach him, she was already grabbing his hand and leading him towards the market.
Kaeya shook his head, an amused smile gracing his lips. “Alright, alright.” He said he was dragged along. “I apologize, truly. I was just held up a bit.”
“You mean by your father?”
“Yeah. He’s been passing on more duties to me lately.”
(Name) nodded slowly, “I see… does that mean he plans on handing the throne to you soon?” She asked curiously.
“I don’t know.” Kaeya shrugged, interlacing his fingers with (Name)’s. “But it’s better if he delays doing that.” He said more resolutely.
The servant turned to look at the prince, eyes still holding curiosity. “Why’s that?”
Kaeya stayed silent for a moment before shaking his head a bit. He then brought their joined hands to his lips, kissing (Name)’s hand. “We can stay together for longer, that’s why, my dear.”
(Name) smiled softly. Yes, that was a good enough reason. Definitely.
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spotsandsocks · 10 months
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Good Knight Sweet Prince update! (104.5k)
14/20 is now out (8.2k) hope you enjoy 💕
At sixteen Prince Evan’s life becomes entangled with a young man who wants to be a Knight. Their friendship grows and changes over the years, as they’re separated and reunited over time and eventually they find out what they really mean to each other, but a Knight and Prince have very different destinies how can they ever be together?
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Chapter 14 8.2k Spoiler snippet under cut
They arrive at the lake the sun low in the sky. Buck starts pacing as soon as he’s off his horse.  Hen however takes a spot on the floor, sitting and waiting quite calmly. He doesn’t know how she can do that, just sit there like everything’s fine. He can’t believe Calenth has been so reckless as to come here. He had no idea what he’d find, if there’d be anywhere to hide himself. Not to mention the actual flight north, even the thought of Cal in the sky where anyone could see him makes his blood run cold. He just can’t have anything happen to him. 
Time passes slower, the pacing isn’t helping calm him much instead his worry is building minute by minute. Cal hasn’t called out yet and it’s been ages since they arrived. Already on edge and worried he becomes more and more  convinced that  something bad has happened to the dragon.
It takes almost another hour before there’s any sign of the brown menace who’s got  his nerves on edge and by that time all he feels is relief when the air shifts and he spins round. He gaps at the sight, this is the first time he’s seeing Calenth in the sky.  He looks big, the sky had been empty just seconds ago, Calenth’s just appeared out of nowhere, like the other dragons had.  He’s hovering now, he looks so graceful in the sky, Buck’s mouth falls open as he watches in awe. His landing however is slightly less elegant. He comes down with a thud and a wobble that  makes the ground shake. His wings fold down and Calenth’s head swings towards him. 
Hello  
The dragon sounds a little sheepish as he should and all of Buck’s worries and frustrations explode.
Read from the start
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think0fmehigh · 5 months
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masterlist ౨ৎ ⋆。˚
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minors do not interact with my posts or blog.
{smut indicated by *}
matty healy
one shots
we went to winter wonderland
stupid cupid *
begin again *
whoreween *
best mates * feat. george daniel
red wine supernova *
professor!au - in order
sidelines (nothing to prove) *
good girl *
morning, professor *
rotten *
birthday girl *
prince!au
the heartbreak prince *
dealer!au
you get me so high *
⤷ bonus blurb *
series
your favorite girl *
blurb masterlist
side blog is @argumentativedreamgirls
my older work is on my ao3 ♡
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midnightfire830 · 8 months
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TW: Muzzles, restraints, and imprisonment
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“Deal?”
Let me know, do you think I should color this in? Would you like to see more like this? :3
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zhounauts · 4 months
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the countess doesn't give a shit ; l.heeseung x f!reader // y.jungwon x f!reader
a/n the long awaited part two that i promised like months ago…it’s finally here !! going to disappear again after this , but i gotta work on my other stories. ..
warnings: cursing, not proof read
part one
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HEESEUNG SCOFFS, AND THEN HE BURSTS OUT LAUGHING “you don’t care? i find that out to believe y/n. were you not the one who was most openly and actively against sora? were you not the one constantly refusing all her invitations before? why the change of heart now?” unfortunately for heeseung you had stopped listening ten words ago, and you were now snacking on fruit gummies your overworked chef had made you.
“pardon me, your highness could you repeat that?” you ask, the gummy dissolving in your mouth. you hear rina stumble into faye in the background. heeseung narrows his eyes as you chew on another gummy.
“what exactly are you plotting now, y/n?” he seethes.
“what i’m going to eat for dinner?” you respond with full seriousness. heeseung gives you an incredulous look.
“MY LADY!”
“i know you’re plotting something. you’re going to this party to humiliate sora am i right? and right now you’re going to act all innocent and uninterested so i will start to—”
“wow you’re a really big overthinker, anyone ever told you that?” you ask, “you’re really mistake your highness. i’m not plotting anything and don’t care about you and sora. you guys can go make out and get married for all i care,”
“i can’t deal with you any longer,” heeseung mutters, “if i hear one word about you acting up at the tea party i will not be afraid to punish you,”
“m’kay,” you answer, turning around, “rina, faye lets finished getting ready,”
“right away m’lady!” faye exclaims, as heeseung makes his way out of your room. you can’t help the anger that boils through you before you take one last glance.
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“countess! i’m so glad that you are here,” sora says, bowing. you give her a polite smile and nod.
“thank you for your invite saintess,”
“of course!” she exclaims happily, “i hope the tea and snacks are all to your liking, i planned everything carefully when i caught notice your attendance. i was scared what i originally planned would not be to your delicate taste. please enjoy the party,”
“yes of course,” you answer, smiling and eye twitching. you didn’t have any energy to deal with her passive, fake niceness.
as soon as she turns around your face goes blank with boredom. you quite literally STILL did not know all the nefarious, devious acts the original countess had committed, but by the way everyone avoided you it was pretty obvious that what you did was. . .well nefarious and devious?
“god, i wish i could just impale myself and go back home already. . .” you mutter underneath your breath.
“i’ll impale you right now then, don’t worry,” an ominous voice hisses.
“what the f-”
“you thought you got rid of me?!”
“who are you?,” you ask, before you pause and sigh, “oh, crazy writer bitch,”
“what did you just call me!? i’ll eliminate you! eliminate!” she screeches.
“yeah okay do that,” you answer, rolling your eyes.
“while you had fun dilly dallying around ruining MY story” she starts, “hey where the fuck are you going?!”
“to get food,” you answer, walking away from the author and towards the table of pastries.
“get back here!” the author huffs angrily, hurriedly following after you.
“will you leave already? i’ll call the guards,”
“you think you can boss me around!? this is my story”
“GUARDS!” you scream, “oh no! i’m uhm. . .being harassed! nooooooooo boohoo,” you watch as the knights from the door run towards you, quickly grabbing the author.
“YOU BITCH! YOU CAN’T TAKE ME AWAY AGAIN! UNHAND ME YOU UNIMPORTANT SIDE NPC CHARACTERS!” you can only watch in amusement as the author screams. your amusement is VERY much cut short however when she for some reason has a burst of ungodly strength and tackles you.
“HOLY—”
“ruin the story i dare you! just you wait, there will be consequences!” she hisses, a flash of craziness in her eyes “the story has to be completed or else—”
“get her off the countess!” a guard calls, and with that the author’s easily hauled off you, as you stare at her in confusion.
“wait! wait! finish your—” but it’s too late, as the guards drag her away from the party and guards surround you, asking you questions. you don’t listen to anything they say, as you furrow your brows, trying to decipher the author’s message.
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after the rabid authors attack, you had excused yourself from the party and headed to the courtyard to collect your thoughts. you thought the author was just crazy and obsessive about the story being completed the way she wrote it, but with her outburst you could tell there was something deeper.
“but what. . .?” you mutter. you sigh, burying your face into your arms. even though in this life you were rich and had privileges you used to wish for, it didn’t take away from the fact that you missed your family, your friends, and heck even your math teacher. it was lonely in this world, especially with the vendetta everyone had against you because of sora and heeseung. heeseung. the name ignites a rage that you had been supressing and you can’t help but rip up a patch of grass and yeet it.
“that stupid prince! who the hell does he think he is? bursting into my room accusing me of so much shit even though its been months since i’ve done anything! i hope he falls off his fucking stupid ass horse and onto his—” your tirade’s cut off by a laugh and you whip your head around at an ungodly speed. “who’s there?”
“no, no, keep going! this is really funny to listen to,” the voice answers, “I don’t think i’ve ever heard anyone who hated his royal highness, handsome and kind prince heeseung,”
“kind?” you scoff, “he can’t seem to leave me alone,”
“you are countess y/n, no?”
“that’s me, who are you?”
“let’s not worry about that,” the person answers.
“what are you, a wanted criminal?”
“. . .”
“you are!?” you ask excited.
“what??? no! of course not i was just joking!” the voice hastily answers before muttering, “why would you even be excited about that. . .” theres comfortable silence between the two of you as you rebury yourself in your arms. “the prince treats you badly?”
“yes!” you start, “no, well i don’t— yeah. i guess so. i get it, i did stuff back then to sora his little babe or whatever but the past five months, i’ve been leaving him alone! i know that still won’t make up for everything, but he can’t even just. . .treat me atleast slightly politely? it’s frustrating, i have no one to talk to except for my maids and chef mingyu, and i just want to go home,”
“where is home?” the voice asks.
“. . .i don’t know,” you answer truthfully. home was your room back in your own house, with your dad bothering you to practice piano, your mom hovering around your room while you study, and your brother randomly appearing every two hours to remind you of his existence. home was with your friends in school, giggling obnoxiously, changing routes to chase guys, and meeting up at set times in the bathrooms. home certainly wasn’t countess yue’s parents, and it definitely was not this castle.
“well people build their own homes all the time,” the voice says, “if they can you can to,”. you laugh.
“are you some wise old man?”
“uh- excuse me!? i’m 19!” you laugh again.
“no, really, who are you?” the voice hesitates.
“. . . yang jungwon,”
“thanks jungwon,” you hum, “when can i see you again?”
“i’d get my ass beat, i’m not supposed to be here” he answers, “i’m a mage at the research tower,”
“i didn’t ask that,” you reply teasingly.
“well. . .i guess i could shoot you a message orb. . .” he grumbles. you giggle, truly happy for the first time in awhile.
“i’ll be waiting,"
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taglist: @k-films , @soobincantswim
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maryleclerc · 8 months
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good morning to my reader & follower, my royal series are about to end now and i’m here again for you all to choose an name for our new prince and princess!! 🫶 read my royal series on my f1 masterlist
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