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wordstome · 6 months

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kingdom come - i

king König x princess & assassin reader

2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, afab reader, romance, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, kind of age gap because König has been king for a good chunk of time but it's not really much of a factor, fantasy/medieval setting, magic exists but it's the creepy kind ordinary people don't fuck with

3.5k words

tw: swearing and König gets a boner. what's new

[NEXT]

GUESS WHO'S BACK ON HER BULLSHIT HAHAAA IT'S MEEE STARTING A NEW SERIES/AU AGAINNNnnnnn. Don't fret, I'm still working on university au! I just started watching The Great (the tv show) and I was like hmm. I should get back to that one idea I had.

p.s. When I mention a "mask" on König, imagine a sort of phantom of the opera, Brahms kinda thing. He isn't always wearing the hood.

Outside, the bells are tolling. Back home, you’ve only ever heard church bells ringing to rally the troops. But here, in these foreign lands, they ring for a royal wedding.

You're wearing a truly massive dress shaped like a pastry. It's a work of art, to be sure, but it leaves you feeling restrained and vulnerable. You should be wearing armor into war—hard boiled leather and curtains of steel rings, not delicate lace and silken ribbons. You're walking into a battle: you would have liked to be able to bend forward further than thirty degrees.

You're at least glad you don't have to wear a veil—it would have been borderline unbearable if you had your vision restricted on top of everything else. It does mean, however, that you can see him standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for you.

A gigantic man with a soldier's physique, wearing a mask that covers more than half his face. Just the sight of him sends a a chill down your spine.

The officiant’s voice booms out over the assembly, but you don’t hear any of it. The sound washes over you, distant and echoing, as if your head is underwater. Your whole being is on alert as you tilt your face upwards to look at the only part of your soon-to-be-husband that you can see properly: his eyes.

They bore into you as if they're looking straight into your soul. As if they're revealing all of your secrets. For a moment, you feel disarmed, even though you can still feel the calming, solid presence of your trusty dagger against your thigh.

As the officiant finishes the wedding vows, he offers his hand to you, his touch shockingly gentle.

You steel your resolve and stare resolutely back at him as you place your hand in his, and the officials begin to bind them together with velvet cords. You remind yourself who you are, where you are, and what you must do.

You remind yourself that you have to kill him as they tie the final knot.

The woods are foreboding, home to a darkness that seems infinite and all-consuming. The heavy old trees that surround the palace grounds shut out most sunlight and all moonlight, and sometimes it feels as if the forest itself is a living, conscious thing brimming with a dangerous unknown. It's proven to be an effective line of defense in the past: citizens don’t dare to trespass on the royal grounds as it is, but an extra deterrent never hurt anybody.

Except perhaps enemy soldiers. But they learn their lesson quickly.

To you, however, the woods are comforting. You’ve spent many lonely nights amongst these trees, training until your body was sore all over. These trunks have withstood many a misplaced blow, these exposed roots have been your downfall many a time, and this mossy undergrowth has cushioned your bruises during many a tumble and fall.

Tonight, however, there is no training. No combat, no groans of pain, no thuds against wood or flesh. You are blanketed in quiet, something sorely needed as you contemplate the days to come.

This is it. The task you’ve trained for all your life is here. Every sore joint and pulled muscle, every tear-soaked pillowcase, every scolding in Father’s office has led to this. Sometimes it seemed as if the day would never come, as if years of reading, shooting, riding and sparring would be for naught. Though your breath rattles the leaves around you, you feel as if you’ve been holding your breath ever since Father broke the news. This is happening.

You leave in a few hours, as soon as the sun comes over the horizon. Your maids have already packed your luggage—you had to enlist their help after it became too difficult to pick what to bring and what not to bring. If all went well, you’d be back in this room in a few weeks. But what could you afford to bring? What did you need for your sanity? What minute details of an object could compromise your position?

Luckily, Calliope, your most trusted lady-in-waiting, was able to step in when she found you sitting on your rug, clutching your set of cloth dolls—the only toys you’d ever owned as a child that weren’t made with murder in mind—and suggest you take a breath of fresh air. You don’t know where you’d be without her, honestly. You may be your father’s pride and joy of a perfectly well-rounded monarch and killing machine, but you would never have gotten here without her by your side.

You sigh and lean your head against the thick limb you’re lying on. If you didn’t already know you’d wake up with a complaining spine that would then have to spend days riding a horse, you’d go to sleep right here, right now. The woods are your home, these trees your solace. You’ll miss it terribly, as the only place you can truly avoid all servants, generals, teachers, and parents.

Well. Parent.

But as with all things—Father’s rare good mood, your training days, peacetime—the sweet, silent embrace of the forest can’t last forever.

Reluctantly, you give the tree one last pat and climb down, making the trudge back to your room so you can at least attempt to catch a few winks of sleep.

It takes quite a few days of travel to get to your destination. You arrive in the empire next door's capital city saddle-sore and on edge. This was the snakes’ nest, the heart of the beast.

And yet…people are happy.

The mood in your hometown is far quieter and more grim—your country has been at war with this one for as long as you can remember, and yet the contrast could not be more vast. Back home, people walk directly from place to place, and don’t make eye contact with each other. Here, children play unsupervised, outdoor markets overflow with people, and windows are thrown wide open as neighbors chat.

You don’t know how to feel. The previous king here was a ruthless conqueror, building an empire by invading neighboring countries and forcing their monarchs to yield—or killing them when they were defiant. Your own land had only escaped being absorbed into the empire by employing rigorous military discipline and strict wartime measures. Yet here, in the heart of the empire, you would never be able to tell it was a nation at war.

And now you’re marrying the king’s son. The current king. The one they call König. So little is known about him that his entire existence is shrouded in rumor: that the hood he wears conceals a monstrous, disfigured face, that he plotted his father’s demise, that his first wife died not of childbirth, but was assassinated in quiet due to being unable to provide an heir.

You don’t plan on sticking around long enough to find out if the rumors are true.

To your surprise, your reception by the people feels more curious than hostile. You’d expected a bit of resistance, or at least a few dirty looks, considering you're the princess of the country they've been at war with for years. But whatever König has told them has been far more charitable than you anticipated.

Your arrival at the palace is greeted by a flurry of activity. Your entourage scatters to put affairs in order, but Calliope and a small contingent of guards follows you into the main hall. Not that you need them—but you need to keep up appearances. No one outside your family’s most tight-knit circle knows you can throw a punch, much less have an assassin’s training.

You don’t feel in the least bit prepared to meet your fiancé—and target—face to face fresh off a days-long journey, but you’re ushered into the main hall anyway. It seems your task has already begun whether you like it or not.

“Ah, princess. Welcome to my humble home.” You hear him before you see him, his voice heavy with an accent. There’s something a bit charming about it, you think—before the sight of him shakes some sense back into you.

He’s huge. He towers over even his own palace guard, broad with muscle, and moves with a deadly raw power even in this nonthreatening setting.

When his father still ruled, before the current peacetime, stories of the empire’s prodigal heir on the frontlines served as frightening bedtime story and a terrifying cautionary tale for the nation’s soldiers. A beast in a hood who fought with the strength of ten men.

You stand your ground as he approaches you. The hood, then, is real—although the stories were so consistent about it that it was never really in question, was it? What the stories had left out were his eyes—striking and green, piercing into your soul as he bends to kiss the back of your hand. It’s an odd sensation that sends shivers racing up your spine.

“The pleasure is mine, your majesty,” you respond, a hint of apprehension in your tone. Of course you had been expecting some form of courtly courtesy, but for some reason you hadn’t expected him to be such a…gentleman. A part of you had been expecting some feral animal, needing to be put down.

"I'm sure you must be exhausted from your journey," he says. "I hope you will find your rooms to your liking." Something about his demeanor is almost...bored? As if greeting his future wife is just another task he's obligated to complete.

He doesn't join you for dinner that night, which is odd. The servants inform you that he's taking care of some urgent business. You hope that your dejection is taken as disappointment that you won't have an opportunity to get to know your fiancé. You are, but not the way people may think.

After all, getting to know your target is half the battle.

You're left to your own devices the next day. König, you're informed, won't be available. That urgent business from last night appears to be an ongoing situation.

Fine by you. You could use some time to prepare.

You spend the day wandering the palace, familiarizing yourself with the grounds and plotting an escape route. You're halted on your brisk survey when you stumble upon a...garden?

Unlike the perfectly manicured hedges outside the palace, or the groomed efficiency of the kitchen gardens, this place is small. Quiet. A little overgrown, but clearly taken care of. The grass is long and soft, dappled in sunshine. Flowers burst forward, crowded around trellises spiraling with vines.

Part of you feels like a trespasser in this private little sanctum, but another part of you is set at ease by the idle tranquility of this place. You pause, feeling a pang of homesickness. It reminds you of the forest: wild in its own way, but gentle and welcoming at the same time.

Something at the corner of your vision catches your eye. A bush bursting forward with round, dark little berries.

Nightshade. Deadly nightshade, in fact. What is this doing in this peaceful little garden? You move forward to examine them closer.

"You shouldn't be here."

You whirl around to find König standing behind you. You had been so absorbed by the garden that you hadn't detected his approach.

Your cheeks burn. You've only been here a day, and already you're letting your guard down. This won't do.

"My apologies, your majesty. I got....lost."

You hold your breath as he draws near. His expression is unreadable—not that you can see most of it, anyway. But when you meet his gaze, you can tell he's sizing you up.

"This is quite a long way to wander."

Shit, is he suspicious? Thinking fast, your brain supplies the best answer you can muster.

"Should a future queen not know the palace she is to live in?"

"Mmm. You make a fair point."

Before you can say or do anything further, he's standing right in front of you. "That's nightshade, you know." You can feel him watching you, assessing your reaction. "Not many can recognize it."

"I..." You can't very well tell him that you know what nightshade looks like because you're an expert in deadly poisons. "I had been wondering what they were."

"I see." He leans forward and plucks a berry off the bush, rolling it between his fingers. "Have you ever tasted one?"

Does he know? Is that a threat? You can't read his expression behind that goddamned mask of his. You stare at him, hoping you look dumbfounded instead of panicked.

"No? They're quite sweet, you know." He holds it out to you. "Care to try one?"

"Your Majesty, I—"

"Don't look so nervous." If you had ever thought he looked frightening before, there's something uncanny about the half-smile that he gives you now. "I didn't expect you to say yes." Before you can say or do anything, he pops the berry in his mouth.

You're too stunned to do anything but watch as he chews for a moment and swallows. One berry won't kill him, but you're more concerned about why he's doing this. Is he trying to intimidate you?

"This was my mother's garden." He gestures to the general surroundings. "I spent a lot of time here as a child. Peaceful, isn't it?"

You let out a tiny sigh of relief now that the conversation appears to be moving on. "Yes. Quite."

"It's always been a place to get away. The first time I ate a nightshade berry was right here, when I was six. I was violently sick for weeks." His tone is a little too light for someone describing being poisoned as a child, and it's unnerving.

"That's when I learned to be careful of things that are too sweet. A good lesson to learn, don't you think?" He walks towards you, and you brace yourself for anything.

He stops next to you, you facing one way and him the other. "Take care then, princess. I will see you tomorrow."

You stare resolutely ahead. "Yes."

And hopefully you won't see him for much longer after that.

Fuck. You forgot about this part.

You had been prepared for this, of course, but you only realize now that you hadn't been mentally prepared. It wasn't until Calliope was helping you undress that you remembered what usually happens between a man and a woman the night of the wedding.

You pace the room, stewing and plotting, getting increasingly antsy before the door swings open and the man himself comes strutting into the bedroom.

"You look like a cornered deer." You hear König shut the door behind him, but you don't turn around.

"I've never done this before." Mentally, you curse yourself for the quaver in your voice.

"Well. Tonight won't be your first."

"What?" You do turn at that, watching him carelessly shed layers all across the room between swigs of his drink.

"I have no interest in bedding you. We do have to sleep in the same room for appearances, though." He plucks a grape from a cluster sitting on a side table and throws it up in the air, catching it with his mouth.

You haven't been in his presence much in the past few days, but each time you have, something about your encounters with him have shaken you up and set you on edge. Somehow, he's kept you on your toes even with a limited presence. Your meeting in the garden was dizzying and confusing, the ceremony set you on high alert. And now, he's thrown you another curveball.

It feels almost too easy. He's just going to go to sleep in the same room as you? No fanfare? "You don't want to...consummate the marriage?"

"You sound upset." He cocks an eyebrow at you. "Were you hoping to?"

"No!" Your face feels hot as he gives you that lopsided half-smile again, more like a smirk this time.

"That's a shame. I prefer fucking willing participants, you see." He drapes himself over the elaborate chaise lounge opposite the bed.

"Are you usually this vulgar?" you retort.

"I see no reason for pretense. We're married, after all." Curiously, he hasn't taken his mask off. Does he sleep in it? Or is he only keeping it on because you're here?

You feel silly now, dressed in a flimsy little silken thing, wrapped up like a present for a brute who won't even touch you. Considerate of him, you suppose. Not that it will matter for very long.

"Sleep well then, hmm? You should be well rested for your first day as queen tomorrow." There's a dangerous gleam in his eye, but it disappears so quickly you wonder if you had imagined it.

"Yes," you say, sitting on the bed while not taking your eyes off of him. "Sleep well."

You give it a few hours, just to be safe. A few hours of laying awake staring at the ceiling. A few hours of watching as moonlight bathes the room in silver light. A few hours of watching him.

The deepening darkness casts sharp shadows across his face, making him seem even more inhuman. What do bloodthirsty emperors dream of? Dominating the weak? Slaughtering the innocent? Conquering women? You shudder. Best not to know.

It's well past midnight when you slowly, quietly get up and pull your dagger from its hidden holster. One downwards thrust, and you're going home. One quick motion, and all of this is over.

It's a little anticlimactic, you think. But this is for the best. For you. For your people. For your family.

Light as a feather, you straddle him, hovering over him just enough so that your weight doesn't wake him. You try not to think about how intimate this position is, and remind yourself that this is the best way to prevent him from getting up or struggling, should your first strike not end him immediately. Which it will, of course.

You take a deep breath as you position the blade right over his heart, calming the fluttering anxiety in your mind. The beginning of a new chapter of your life begins now.

You plunge the dagger downwards.

In an instant, König's eyes fly open. Before you can react at all, his hand has seized your wrist in an iron grip, the tip of your dagger a hair's length from his chest.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" He purrs. "A little assassin?"

You grit your teeth and attempt to overpower him: you're so, so close. But his strength is so overwhelming that you can't even get the tip of the dagger to make contact. Panic starts to set in. This isn't good. This is disastrous, actually. He was supposed to be asleep!

You attempt to pull away, to get away, to do anything, but it's no use. "You don't seem surprised," you spit.

"It's not every day your most bitter enemy offers you his daughter's hand in marriage as a truce," he replies, clear amusement in his voice. Is he enjoying this? "Of course I smelled a rat. You must think me a fool."

"No." Yeah, you kind of had.

"Lying ill suits you, princess." You cry out as he jams his fingers into the tendons in your wrist, forcing you to release the dagger. You watch, helplessly, as he picks it up with his other hand and turns it over, studying it in the moonlight.

"What a delicate little knife," he muses. In your hand, it's a sizeable weapon. But held in his fingers it looks small, harmless. To your dismay, he then proceeds to chuck it at the opposite wall, the blade sticking itself solidly in between two panels.

"You knew?" you ask, a tremor in your traitorous voice.

"Oh, I suspected. You had me disappointed for a while—I thought you would have made an attempt well before this." He lets out a deep chuckle that sends terror through you. "For a moment I even thought that you were as you presented: just some poor little lamb, a peace offering given up to the slaughter." His eyes narrow behind the mask. "I am glad to see that you have proven to be much more interesting than that."

"Interesting?" Out of all the reactions you would have expected him to have, this is not one of them. Fear, anger, even immediate violence. Not...interest.

"You have no idea," he says. Your eyes widen as he you feel his hand run up your thigh.

That's not the only thing you feel, though. He shifts a bit underneath you, and it's then that the earlier flush to your cheeks returns in full force. Is he...hard?!

"If you're going to kill me, then get on with it," you ground out through your teeth.

"Little one, if I had wanted you dead immediately, I would have already pinned you down and snapped your neck. No, you've given me a gift: a gift I intend to cherish." You shiver as he slides a hand up your thigh. "A challenge."

"Is this a game to you?" You're not sure if your breath is running ragged from fear or anger, now.

"I could end this at any time, you know." You gasp involuntarily as a hand closes around your throat. "But that would be no fun, now would it?"

"You are a fool, then." You stare at him defiantly, even as his grip constricts your breathing. "Because I will kill you."

His eyes dance with some mad glee. "That's what I like to hear."

Hiiiiiiiii besties. I've been chewing on the idea of a medieval royalty sort of au since before Shrike, and I came up with this premise like. At least a year or two ago, before I was even in the COD fandom. So I'm glad to finally be making some real headway on it! I have no idea how many parts this is going to have. I have a lot of plot planned for it, so we're just gonna have to see where the vibes take us!

I'd like to thank @danibee33 my angel as always. I bounced a lot of royal/medieval/king König ideas off of her, some of which I still may use, but I changed the plot drastically when I had an epiphany a week or two ago. Hope you like this one babe <3 Also, thank you @kneelingshadowsalome and @gremlingottoosilly for their historical/time period aus. Your fics gave me a real kick in the ass to finish this.

Also shoutout to Pedro Pascal fans? I stumbled upon some breathtakingly kinky fanfiction on this beloved hellsite featuring the Mandalorian, and thought: you know what? If people can proudly write and publish the nastiest, most shameless smut I've ever read, then I can push through whatever impostor syndrome, perfectionist embarrassment I have with my work and get it done.

As usual, please let me know your feedback! I'm trying out a bit of a different characterization for König (not that much different, he's still our beloved violent horny maniac), and I want to know what people think.

I'm also going to be using my taglist again. If you were tagged here and don't want to be tagged anymore, please let me know! And if you would like to be added to the taglist, drop a reply <3

@crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr

#alright lads place your bets now what do you think happened to his first wife #könig #konig #könig cod #konig cod #konig x reader #König x reader #konig x you #König x you #cod #cod mw2 #call of duty #mw2 #fic: kingdom come

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 4 months

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Eddie Munson's family dinner

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 23

Prompt: Uncle Wayne adopts Steve

Rated: M

CW: nudity

Tags: Modern AU; Rockstar Eddie; Royal Steve; Established relationship

Notes: Continued from days 11 and 14. I can't get this AU outta my head, halp!

Eddie can't recall the first time he saw Steve.

In all likelihood, he was two years old and Steve a tiny, wrinkly baby. His face was all over the news in the days and weeks following his birth, after all. Cradled in his mother's arms, staring bleary-eyed into the world as newborns tend to do - only that in his case, the entire world was staring back. The birth of the King's and Queen's first child had been long-awaited after all, a once-in-a-generation event.

In the years that followed, Steve was always just … kind of there. A strange-but-familiar boy who kept popping up on TV and the front pages of magazines, living a life so different they may as well have been from different planets.

Eddie still remembers fixing dinner in the trailer's tiny kitchen one night, news droning in the background.

"Poor kid," Wayne grumbled.

Eddie, sixteen and a giant shithead at the time, paused in putting the plates down on the table and glanced up to follow his uncle's gaze to the TV.

"Oh yeah, woe is him. Must be so fucking hard, living in a palace. Having an army of servants to wipe your ass and shit."

On the TV, the Prince sat between his parents at some sports event or other, a tiny carbon copy of his father with his Italian suit and carefully styled hair. Clapping at all the right times, face a polite, empty mask of a smile.

Wayne huffed. "Ain't no kid deserve that kinda shit. Always under scrutiny, paraded around like some trained dog."

Eddie rolled his eyes and changed the topic and they didn't talk about it any further.

Wayne's plates are still the same ones that Eddie was putting on the table all those years ago. Eddie has offered time and again to buy something new, but the stubborn old shit won't have it. Insists that Eddie already bought him a whole-ass house with the money from that first record deal, a car after the second, he won't die of a chipped plate or ten, thank you very much. He'll just have to get him new ones for Christmas, he guesses.

"This is delicious, Mr Munson," Steve is saying. He's sitting next to Eddie, back ramrod straight, elbows at a perfect angle, dissecting the meatloaf with careful precision.

Like some trained dog.

"My mom's recipe," Wayne hums, but then he sets down his own cutlery, expression serious. "Now … what are your intentions with my nephew?"

Eddie flushes about twenty shades of crimson. Incidentally, so does Steve.

"I …" he sputters, all traces of composure suddenly gone. "Well, I like Eddie a lot."

"I figured …" Behind Wayne's beard, his mouth twitches. "Seeing how you're wearing his clothes and all."

Steve blinks down at himself. They make sure to keep it low-profile when they're together. The paparazzi never sleep, after all, and they've both had their fair share of run-ins with the fuckers in the past. Which is why he's wearing a red-and-black flannel he stole from Eddie, faded and soft from too many cycles in the wash. Eddie wants to burn all the Italian suits in the world, wrap him up in soft and comfy clothes always.

"Um …" Steve says.

Wayne smiles.

"Relax, son, I'm pulling your leg." If he notices how Steve tenses at the word son, he graciously ignores it. "Now are ya gonna take my boy's hand, or what?"

Steve gapes.

"Might as well," Eddie winks, takes the knife from Steve’s limp fingers and entwines their hands. "He'll just keep nagging until he gets what he wants."

Their gazes lock and Steve smiles. Not a mask. The real one. The one where his eyes light up and he looks five years younger. The one that Eddie is rapidly becoming addicted to.

He turns back to eating his dinner one-handed and remembers another boy, a boy from a very different planet, getting coaxed out of his shell over the same plates, the same meatloaf.

Fuck the plates, he decides. Wayne is getting a whole damn kitchen for Christmas, whether he likes it or not.

"He's a great guy, your uncle," Steve mutters into Eddie’s chest later that night. They're all curled up in Eddie’s bed and he's naked except for the flannel. He claims it's to ward off the cold air seeping in through the open window, and Eddie isn't about to argue. Not when the sight does things to him.

"Sort of thought he was gonna hate me," Steve continues, and Eddie hums quizzically.

"Why's that?"

"Hm, let's see …" Steve's brow crinkles in mock-thought. "He raised the guy who wrote two top-ten songs about how much the monarchy sucks, that could've been a hint."

"Nah," Eddie chuckles. "Guy would've adopted you as a kid, if he could've. He's always loved you, way-"

Large hazel eyes blink up at him and the words get stuck in his throat.

Because he hasn't said it yet, even though he's rapidly coming to accept that it's true.

Way before I did.

"And apart from that," he says instead, "if you marry me, I'll be a princess. What parent doesn't want that for their kid?"

"Hold your horses," Steve grumbles, but his eyes are sparkling again. "We can't get married if your uncle adopts me."

"Shame," Eddie quips and presses him down into the pillows. "Would've loved to wear a tiara on stage, that sounds like a killer look."

Eddie doesn’t recall the first time he saw Steve, but he doesn’t really think it matters. Not when he gets to see the real him now, with no-one else watching. Blushing and naked, lips kissed pink, glowing with happiness.

It's an image he's sure he won't forget.

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

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mmani-e · 4 months

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I've finally finished my Danganronpa AU personal project! I personally call it

DANGANRONPA: DEMIX

And yeah, all the swaps as you can see above, and these guys in the middle are the replacements for Monokuma and Usami respectively:

Check out under the cut for some design insights on my take AND closer pictures of each pair:

Finally finished my personal AU project. I hope it's to everyone's liking!

I can go on forever about these designs but I'll limit myself to one-two sentences on some facts about the designs.

Mikan: Mikan's face tattoo was commissioned on her against her will so that she can never hide her nature as a Yakuza, but her leg tattoo was done on purpose, and she and Nagito have matching tattoos on their legs, his is just hidden most the time.

Nagito: He is usually seen with a spear and prefers the weapon over the sword, but he is more famous for his natural skill with the blade. That said, he resents the blade and wishes he could be recognized for the things he actually works hard to do, like throwing spears or protecting Mikan and her family.

Ibuki: I kept her design very similar to her base design because she pretty much just looks like a student, and I don't want to change anyone's personality so there's no reason for her to not get highlights. But I gave her some more symmetry in this design and gave her a cute little semi ahoge I guess with a hair tie, bc she doesn't naturally have one.

Imposter/Gamemaster: Yeah I made the big brain choice to keep him with his colors as "Byakuya" because it made for a more striking visual, and more recognizeable as the impostor. Also I made him too tall because I wanted to give him big legs lol.

Hiyoko: Her four cats are named Heart (scraggly cat), Mr. Pearls (sleepy cat), Big Red (Giant cat), and BB (black cat) bc canonically the four dark devas are named after shonen manga, I named her cats after pokemon games, which she canonically likes playing. Also chickens are her favorite animal, despite her love of cats.

Kazuichi: Kazuichi's not a natural born prince, through shenanigans it turns out he's extremely distantly related to some royal line in a microstate north of germany called "Nordsumpf." Their main exports are cars and Kazuichi is still new to being a prince.

"Kyoko": She'd try her best to act like Kyoko, but she's a little too meek and openy affectionate to pull it off properly. Also her knockers are way bigger than Kyoko's, so there's an immediate discrepancy to the trained eye.

Also in my au of DR1, Kyoko is the ultimate affluent progeny and Makoto is author/serial killer.

Hajime: His hair is actually extremely long back there, he just keeps it tied up. On shows he lets it all out and a wears red contacts, his stage name is "Izuru."

Sonia: Sonia became a team manager because she was escaping an assasination attempt, strolled into a junior laegue soccer game, took over for the coach and started just barking orders and the team won. They were the worst team in the whole league and after that she just sorta stuck around them and won them the championships.

Gundham: Gundham was orginally meant to wear the japanese flag… but there was too much white in his design so I cut it. He has names for all of his gymnast moves and he announces them very loudly when he does any of them.

Peko: I tried to give Peko a unique sort of "zombie survivor" kinda vibe so while she's clearly a mechanic first she can also just fucking kill you by braining you with that monkey wrench. Most of the time she's cool though, she's just like horribly dependent on other people to tell her what to do, so she attaches to Kazuichi because he's the most immediately available authority figure.

Fuyuhiko: He's got that sort of machismo that makes him not like to admit he loves dancing, but the moment he's complimented on it he'll really appreciate it. Also he's still part of a crime family, but it's just not as strong as Mikan's.

Akane: She really looks sporty still, but don't worry she's definitely "lucky," she's just much more focused on the future than her bad luck in the moment… which can be very bad, actually, and can make her come across as kind of aloof.

Nekomaru: Why is nurse Nekomaru not as common a thing. Just think about it, it's perfect. Nekomaru here got inspired by the bravery and hard work of the nurses that treated him and boom he became a nurse, nobody tougher than healthcare professionals after all.

Mahiru: Mahiru as a nurse is honestly a really really really fun concept but I feel like I wasn't very ambitious here, and I can't really show it through the drawing but one of my early drafts had her look more like a european chef a la gordon ramsey bc I headcanon her as a scot.

Teruteru: Decided to give him a raincoat which my sister pointed out to me could also be a trenchcoat, which is just PERFECT for a creep like him. It just writes itself man, though seriously he's mostly a landscape photographer who specializes in pics of the countryside. Still a huge perv tho.

Usowa: Name is a combo of Usagi and Chowa, the word for Harmony. She's less like a chaotic force of nature like Monokuma and more a manipulative and hardline teacher who coaxes the students into doing awful things by playing into their insecuritoies with motives, and which then causes them to kill, allowing her to punish them, "weeding out the weak and undisciplined among their ranks." She replaces Monokuma.

Kyojuma: Name is a combo of Kyoju (professor) and Kuma. He's a pretty silly guy with an easy temper to poke at, but he's good at heart and tries his best to be a more sort of "fun" teacher than the rules lawyer Usami kinda was. He just wants to help his students, too bad Usowa showed up and decidedly does NOT like his approach.

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poppyswriting · 4 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍.

One shot! Royal!Sun x reader.

summary: The next day after the ball, you tried to avoid the princes as much as you could, avoiding places that they were, avoiding talking to them, making contact with them anything. Until you received a visit from the sun-like Jester and a little chit chat with the Prince.

warnings: None really

Notes: This idea appeared in my head while I was grocery shopping and couldn’t get it out ever since, I think this is just a little parody (non official/non cannon!!) I made in my head for the first chapter of “Of fools in Gilded Masks” written for @cloudyvoid’s Medieval au, really loved the chapter! I really like sun, so this is going more to the sun lovers, please enjoy!! I’m sorry if it’s not great, this was kinda rushed since I didn’t want to loose the idea

*none of the characters mentioned are mine! They all belong to @head-in-the-icloud, and I personally love the whole au and it’s story so please make sure to check it out!! Really worth it.

Ao3 post.

Great way to start the “keeping it low mission” you thought.

At the ball, you committed quite the mistake. You interacted with the princes you so desperately tried to avoid. Your cheeks turned pink as you cringed at the idea, god what an awful start.

You sat on the bed as you yawned, looking over the room you noticed the empty bed. Guess that your “roommate” decided to take a morning walk or something. You didn’t want to go out of the room, the bed and blankets welcomed you so deliciously you wanted more minutes on it.

Even if it would’ve been the best option, you yelped at the sound of the doors opening. A maid entering the room quietly, “The Queen would love to greet all the remaining guests in the ball room.” Remaining guests? You were about to ask but the maid was quick to leave the room. Leaving the word in your mouth.

You sighed, getting up from the bed and get dressed. You had to use the same green dress you used for the gala night since, well, it was the only one you had. You looked around the room before stepping out to the ball room.

Now you understood what the maid meant when she said “remaining guests.”

You were entirely sure that there were more people than the ones that were here. It was still a large amount but there were less than yesterday. There were groups who were talking to each other, you stood on one of the corners of the room away from the crowds. You heard trumpets blare, making you look up again as one of the servants introduced the queen. She smiled at the crowd.

“I’d like to congratulate the remaining people here, most of you would be asking where are the others. Unfortunately, most of them were sent home for inside reasons. In the meantime, please feel free to enjoy the breakfast served.” Oh right, there was a large food table you didn’t noticed. You spaced out in your own thoughts, before you saw the people approach to the table.

You grabbed a plate and took some pancakes, they were really well decorated with strawberries shaped like hearts and some blueberries on the sides. It looked too cute to eat, but still very tasty.

After the breakfast, the groups left the rooms some to the bathrooms to clean themselves and some went walking through the halls. You took this as an opportunity to explore more the castle, walking down the halls and taking a look at some of the beautiful glass stained windows. But when you took one of the turns you saw at the distance a group of people, mostly woman whom were circling someone.

You thought of walking past them, but when one of the woman moved a little to the side you caught a glimpse of a familiar sun-like face and he seemed to have seen you too. Because when you both made eye contact he was quick to call you with a sign of his hand. At this you turned around and walked away back to the turn and left that hall, yes you felt bad for ignoring the Prince but you wanted to keep it low. Not be noticed, and get this over with.

After a while you were really tired of walking, it’s been almost an hour or at least that’s what it felt like. Why was the castle so big?! Of course is a castle. You sat down on the floor, not really pretty but come on of all the walking you’ve done you haven’t seen a chair nearby and it looked like you weren’t going to see one either. You stretched hearing a few pops from your bones and sighed in relief while you closed your eyes, you took some time until you decided to keep going

“Hello friend!” A voice quite loud besides you talked and you almost jumped at the sound. You weren’t expecting that, looking besides you you were met by the familiar Jester, Dawn right?? “Jesus! Don’t-, Don’t be sneaking into people like that!” You didn’t meant to be harsh in any way, really. But that almost got the soul out of you

“My apologies friend! I couldn’t help but noticing you here all by yourself! Mind if I join in?” For some reason, you actually didn’t mind that. You nodded and he was quick to take a seat besides you, with a moment of silence in the air. “How’s the thing going? Like it around here?”

“Oh, yeah sure. The food is great I must say, just looking around.” The silence was really loud, not that you would mind. “Have you talked to any of the princes yet? They say they’re very charming.” You didn’t expect that question, still it wasn’t unreasonable. That was the “reason” you came here after all. “Well yeah, I talked to one of them. Made a fool out of myself though”

You looked besides you to be met with the mask already looking at you, suddenly you had all of his attention. “Really? Is that why you haven’t talked to them ever since?” For a moment you frowned, how did he know that? But you brushed it off because well, he worked here of course he could see around and maybe he just saw how you avoided them. Right?

“Well yeah I think so, this whole idea is somewhat scary you know? I just, I’m afraid that if I get picked I will just be marrying someone I barely know. What if it’s the wrong one?” You put your legs upwards and hugged them, avoiding making eye contact with the jester. “I just, I want to marry someone I actually love, noble or not. And doing that with someone who doesn’t even know me then.. How am I even sure I’m going to get loved back?”

There was a pause, the silence turning awkward as none of you spoke. “Well, how are you sure that it’s not going to work out if you don’t try? If not knowing them it’s what scares you, talk to them and see if you connect. Don’t make all of your traveling not worth it, if you don’t get chosen then that’s okay. At least you tried.” Honestly he was right. You had the option to talk to them, get to know each one separately and see where things go.

“I guess that you’re right.” None of you looked at each other, the conversation turning deep rather quickly. “Say, you wouldn’t know another jester trick?” You didn’t know if he smiled, but it felt like it when he stood up and took your hand.

You had a fun time with the jester. Trying out new tricks and jokes here and there, laughing and overall you forgot the whole thing until it was time for him to go. You understood and nodded when he told you, so you went to wonder in the halls once again. You opened one of the doors that you saw, leading you to a big garden full of precious flowers in perfect conditions.

There were all sorts of flowers like Roses, Sunflowers, Lilly’s and more. You followed the clean road while looking at the flowers, after a while walking you spotted a big fountain in the distance. It had the edges wide enough for someone to sit on them so you did, admiring the flowers in the distance.

It was peaceful, It reminded you of your aunt because some of the flowers were her favorite. Making you smile at the memories with her, “Mind if I sit here?” You were on your own little world, spacing out to the distance. You hummed a yes, not looking at the person who sat besides you.

“They are beautiful aren’t they?” The voice sounded familiar, familiar enough to take you out of your trance and look besides you. You were met by the sun-like Prince who was looking at the flowers too. Your eyes widened. “Your highness!” You bowed your head, you heard a chuckle from him. “There’s no need for that please”

“Are you enjoying your stay here?” He asked, you nodded and he smiled. “Excuse me your majesty I-“ as you were standing up to make an excuse and leave you felt a hand touch yours, “Please stay, I insist” There was a kind smile on his face and suddenly, the Jesters words ran through your head. Making you stop, doubting for a second and sit again.

Time passes and it amazes you how easy to talk to was the Prince, it eased you to know this and it calmed you a lot. Even though sometimes your heartbeat was strong enough to make you confuse your words. You didn’t think you’d enjoy it as much as you did.

It was starting to get late, and he had to go because “Prince duties” and stuff. But before leaving he turned to you with that characteristic warm smile, “Can,” he stopped for a second “Can we repeat this one time? I really enjoyed it.” You told him yes, and he thanked you before parting his way.

You looked at him as he walked away and a smile appeared unconsciously in your mouth, you were smiling like an idiot. But who could’ve blamed you? The fact that now you both could get to know each other, and judging by how the conversation went, you were sure you could be eager to get to know the Prince.

#fnaf security breach #fnaf oc #fnaf #sun fnaf #sundrop #fnaf sun and moon #fnaf sb au #fnaf sun #fnaf daycare attendant #Prince sun #dca au #fnaf dca x reader #fnaf dca #fnaf au #fnaf sb #dca sun #dca x reader

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mintflavoredfemurs · 5 months

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Okay the art is scrappy but BEAR WITH ME i have stuff to say.

Don't you ever think, like, Horror gets kinda terrified at the idea of being around Dust and Killer? I mean, sure, they're all messed up in the heads, they've all killed, Horror's no exception and he's got the bloodstains on his shirt to lay proof of it.

But I feel like being around versions of yourself that have killed your own brother or, you know, THE ENTIRE UNDERGROUND would be deeply unsettling. Even more so, Dust and Killer aren't from AUs where the universe itself is fundamentally different, no. They all come from the same kind of universe, all three of them are the same old 'Sans the Skeleton'. or at least they used to be until, y'know. Only difference is what the player/Frisk had done in these timelines.

Would that not freak him out? Would he actively avoid being around Dust and Killer, wouldn't he hate it?? And unlike Dust and Killer he has his own world to return to, even if it's royally screwed over, he still has Papyrus. I don't think he'd be as attached to the whole idea of the 'Bad Sanses' as the other two are, which could bring questions on how Nightmare feels about all of it.

I dunno maybe I'm just thinking this over too much. Just food for thought, I guess.

#art #my art #mints art tag #undertale #horrortale #utmv #bad sanses #horror sans #dust sans #killer sans #rambles #theory #sans #violence tw

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princeyblue · 28 days

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Ok where do you guys even come from?

For some reason y’all really seem like Prince Kinito a lot makes me kinda happy not gonna lie. I’ll drop some lore for this AU. His web world is a royal school roleplay/hang out and dress up like game. I got inspired by my childhood games like gogirlgames or other girly games Nikki dress up, time Princess, life makeover. (just think of it like Royale high if it makes it easier I know I’m soo original-) his Royale web world is in risk of shutting down due to very low player base. Plus the studio disbandment a long time ago butkinito is somehow able to make updates on the game cuz he’s just that OP. (Idk he just build like that I guess)

{Info on Kinito}

His full name is Prince Kinito Sonny Bubbles. (Yes, his last name is Bubbles cuz it’s cute)

He’s into princely fashion, writing fairytale stories, play games, baking sweets, dancing in the rain.

I have a feeling people will hate me for making this Sam and Jade are kinito’s siblings in this AU because I think I find it cute if they see each other as family.

#kinito au #kinito the axolotl #kinito fanart #kinito my beloved #kinitopet #art

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year

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thistle, part one

a/n: I'm posting the next part in a few days, so you won't have to wait too long to find out what happens next ♡

summary: “A title that’s been true since the moment I was born, but there are also a few others that are just as real. I am a son, I am a brother, I am a soldier. I am still the exact same person you spoke to only yesterday. I haven’t changed one bit, so please don’t act like I have. Please, at least call me James.”

warnings: James Potter x reader, royal au, prince!James, servant!reader (lady's maid), forbidden romance, secret relationship, historical au (beginning of the 1920s), references to WW1, surely extremely historically inaccurate but this is just for fun, lovesick!James, weapons, grief, death, smut, kissing, attending a ball, dancing, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, cockwarming, oral

word count: 6148

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series masterlist - next part

Marching up to the bespectacled man exiting the stables, his clothes all ruffled and dirtied from the ride he’d presumably just taken on this drizzly day, “excuse me, sir?” he slowed his trek at the sound of your soft voice, turning his head to look at you in surprise, “do you know the way to the servant's entrance? I seem to be a bit lost.”

“Um, yeah,” he blinked a second, taken aback by your question as he gave you a quick once over, “it’s just down that path,” he pointed towards the east side of the castle, “green door, can’t miss it.”

“Thank you,” you nodded, tightening your grip on your suitcase and began to move in that direction.

“Are you new here?” he asked swiftly, halting your movements.

“Kinda,” you said, “I’m the queen mother’s new lady’s maid.”

“Oh,” a genuine smile bloomed on his face, “I didn’t know grand-, I mean, her majesty Delilah was coming for a visit.”

“Well, I’d imagine you as, I presume, a groundskeeper,” you guessed, squinting your eyes at the helpful stranger in front of you, “isn’t exactly first on the list of people who need to be notified of such things.”

Choking out a small chuckle, neither confirming nor denying your guess, he simply glanced down at his muddy boots, “yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Looking back over your shoulder at the large castle looming over you, “I’m sorry, but I should really get going. Her majesty likes to freshen up quite a bit after a long trip such as this.”

“Oh, yeah,” he exhaled, clearly not ready to part ways yet, “you go take care of that, I’ll see you around.”

“See you!” you shouted over your shoulder as you made your way towards the discreet green door.

“That’s pretty,” a smoky voice from out of nowhere made you jump and promptly stop your soft humming, dropping the small bouquet of wildflowers you had picked but a moment ago. Turning to see who else could be out here in the forest, you spotted the helpful figure from the day before, leaning against a tree.

“Jesus! You gave me a fright!” a hand came up to clutch your chest.

“Sorry,” he smiled, shifting the bent hunting rifle that rested over his burly forearm.

“It’s fine, no harm done,” you exhaled slowly, “just need to make my heartbeat understand that as well…”

Watching as you momentarily bent down to pick the dropped flowers off the forest floor, “you out on a walk I presume?” he pushed off the tree and stepped closer.

“Yeah, well,” you rose back up, “the weather finally cleared up, so I thought a bit of fresh air might do me well,” you said, gliding one of your cold hands down into your coat pockets, “plus I’ve heard so much about the grounds here, I wanted to see them for myself.”

“They are quite something, aren’t they?” he smiled warmly down at you.

Feeling heat begin to rise in your cheeks from his unwavering glare, you coughed lightly and glanced down at the humble bouquet clutched in your grasp, “and, um, you’re-”

“Hunting,” he filled in before you could manage to finish your guess.

“Oh, am I getting in your way?” worry filled your voice, imagining that bullets could start flying over your head as soon as a bird flew by, “is it safe for me to be out here? I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware-”

“Nah, you’re good,” he waved a reassuring hand, “I split up from the others a while ago and then when I heard you, I wandered even further away from the rest.”

“You followed me?” he noticed your eyes flicker down towards the weapon he was carrying.

“I-, oh god,” he winced, scrunching his expression up in regret and bowing his head, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I am a stranger to you with a deadly firearm, not a harmless bunny rabbit,” you could literally see the imaginary whip he was punishing himself with, “I’m sorry I scared you, I’ll just go-”

“No!” flew out your lips before you had a chance to think, “It’s fine, you can stay if you want.”

Gazing into your eyes a moment, he then exhaled, “thank you, miss.”

“Y/l/n,” you told him, “my name is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Y/n,” the corners of his lips curled up as he tasted your name on his tongue.

“And your name?”

“James,” he said, then stressed, “just James.”

James… like the youngest of the two princes? You shouldn’t act too surprised; it was a common enough name after all.

“Can I ask you something?” he spoke as you wordlessly agreed to go for a stroll together among the birch trees.

“Sure.”

“How long have you been the queen mother’s lady’s maid? It’s just, I remember her previous one, the one she had before the war, and I feel like I would have noticed when you came along.”

“It’s been about 6 months now…” you answered rather sombrely.

“You don’t sound pleased about that.”

“No,” you glanced in his direction to underline your statement, “I love the job, don’t get me wrong, it’s just-,” you choked on the bitter fact and opted to say, “it’s complicated.”

“Is it too complicated for a man like me to comprehend?” he offered with a gentle smile.

Letting a low sigh flow out, you spoke, “that previous one you remember?” he nodded in confirmation, “that was my mom.” You tried to ignore how your bottom lip began to quiver, “she had me out of wedlock and later in her life, so not many people knew about me. But her majesty Delilah did. She’d always been very fond of my mother, so she let me grow up there at Cudworth palace. She-,” you let out a shaky breath, still finding it difficult to vocalize, “she became ill a few years back, so her majesty made the decision to let me inherit the position. Made sure I was set up for a good life, I guess… My mother trained me for as long as she could till I was nothing short of flawless. It’s been 6 months… 6 months with the job and 6 months without her…”

“Yes, I think the sapphires will do quite nicely for tonight,” Delilah purred as her weathered fingers brushed over the jewellery spread out in a presentational fashion on the vanity she sat at.

Wrapping a silver lock around your finger, you carefully pinned the last piece in place, securing her intricate updo. Glancing at the finished product in the reflection, you then agreed, “sapphire it is,” plucking the precious stones off the doily-clad table and gently adorning her earlobes with them.

“Beautiful work, dear,” Delilah gave your hand a small pat as you secured the last earring, momentarily catching your eye in the mirror.

The dragon lady. That’s what people called her. Though, through all of your life, the intimidating queen mother had been nothing but kind to you. It was clear that she had a soft spot for you, though you’d never dare to confirm that suspicion.

“Thank you, madam,” a soft smile quickly warmed up your features as you checked her hair one last time, “I hear the prime minister will be attending dinner tonight.”

“Oh, well, I guess I couldn’t avoid him forever. Hopefully, they won’t seat him beside me this time, it was so awfully boring last time, kept on talking about cricket.”

“Could always be sneaky and pretend that you can’t hear him,” you suggested with a sly grin.

“Wouldn’t that be something,” her crow's feet framed eyes glinted with a youthful mischievous glow.

Your shared giggle was interrupted as the door to her champers creaked open. Turning to look, you saw none than your helpful stranger.

“Grandma,” James simply sauntered in as if he owned the place, “I was wondering if you could-,” both his words and his brisk pace fell short as he spotted you, “oh, hi,” your presents promptly brought a fluttering smile to his lips.

Just as you were about to speak up, your eyes wide enough to burst at his audacity, Delilah bellowed, “good lord, James, it’s been enough time, you really must shred that army brashness and start entering a room the way you were raised to. This is not a war room, it’s the castle’s peacock suite!”

“Right,” he chuckled lightly, his eyes never staying on his grandmother for long before flickering back to you, “sorry granny.”

Why was the groundskeeper referring to the queen mother his grandmother? It couldn’t be because-

“Y/n,” Delilah turned in her comfortable chair, “I don’t think you’ve been acquainted. This is my dear James,” she presented with an outstretched arm, “the youngest of my two grandsons.”

Swiftly averting your flabbergasted gaze, you curtsied timidly and gasped, “your highness,” your terrified eyes darting across the Persian rug.

You’d only gotten to know the prince’s likeness through old paintings of him as a child. The battle-scared man standing before you now looked nothing like the bespeckled young royal captured in the portrait you’d passed countless times before.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you miss,” he smiled warmly, bowing his head slightly at you in return.

“Now,” Delilah reached for her cane and slowly pushed herself up to her feet, “what was it you needed?”

“Yeah, um,” he thought for a second, seeming awfully distracted, “it was-… I’m sorry, I completely forgot what it was.”

“Well, maybe you’ll recall during dinner, my boy,” she slowly moved towards the door, “shall we go down?”

“You go ahead,” James gesticulated, “I just need Y/n to send a message down to the kitchen for me. We wouldn’t want them to hold back on the wine now that prime minister Ferrell is joining us.”

“Oh, bless you,” Delilah grinned before disappearing out of the room, “that’s why you’re my favourite.”

Closing the heavy door behind the former monarch, James gently grabbed you by the elbow and guided you further into the room. Preparing yourself for the worst, you immediately promised, “I’ll go relay the message at once,” your head still bowed, not daring to look him in the eye.

“You don’t really have to, I already sent word down an hour ago. I simply said that to get a moment alone with you,” he lowered himself in an effort to catch your cautious gaze, “Y/n,” breathing out your name as if it weighed a ton, “would you please look at me?”

Only momentarily flickering your eyes up to meet his, you blurted out, “forgive me, your majesty, I swear I didn’t know,” your heartbeat was so strong you could hear it pounding in your ears, “I would have never spoken to you in that manner if I knew who you were!”

“Please do not apologise,” goosebumps bloomed on your skin as you felt his fingers briefly caress your arm, “I was so grateful that you didn’t just stiffen up like everyone else, you talked to me like any other man. So, for that, I thank you and beg you to please not change it now that you know.”

“What? I-I couldn’t do that! It isn’t proper, it isn’t right!”

“Why not? You did it before.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were a prince before.”

“A title that’s been true since the moment I was born, but there are also a few others that are just as real. I am a son, I am a brother, I am a soldier. I am still the exact same person you spoke to only yesterday. I haven’t changed one bit, so please don’t act like I have. Please, at least call me James.”

“Your majesty, I couldn’t.”

“Why not, Y/n? It’s just my name, it’s not gonna bite you, didn’t before and I promise it won’t start doing it now.”

“Thomas,” king Fleamont glanced up from his papers to address his eldest son, “we’ve invited a few eligible ladies for tonight. Please actually talk to them this time, don’t just sulk in the corner with your brother.”

“Christ,” James' brother groaned, “papa, I thought this ball was just a little get-together now that granny is in town. Must I truly have to be paraded around every chance there is?”

“If that’s what it takes for you to find a wife, yes,” his father said sternly, then returned his attention to the crisp newspaper.

Grumbling, Thomas slumped back, huffing beside his brother on the tufted couch, “let’s hope they at least push their tits up to the heavens above,” he muttered under his breath for only James’ ears to receive, “that might make it tolerable.”

Chuckling at his sibling’s pout, James then suggested, “since this is for grandmama, why don’t we extend the invitation to Y/n?”

Furrowing her brow over the small fluffy dog in her lap, Euphemia questioned her son’s bold idea, “who’s that?”

“Granny’s lady’s maid,” his words awoke a severe expression to all but one of his family member’s faces.

“Why that’s a wonderful idea, James!” Delilah cheered, “she does indeed deserve a bit of fun.”

Leaning in closer, Thomas hissed in his brother’s ear, “have you gone quite mad? A servant at a ball? Look at a calendar, brother, it isn’t December yet.”

“She isn’t that bad,” James defended, a storm quickly brewing in his chest, “plus, you know, granny’s not that young anymore, it might be a great help for her to be there as support. Just as a precaution.”

“But I have nothing to wear!” you protested, “I didn’t bring a gown, let alone own one.”

“I know you don’t,” Delilah said calmly, not taking any of your blubbering to heart, “that’s why I had a few maids go through an old trunk of mine that I never brought with me to Cudworth,” she snapped her finger at the butler in the corner as he swiftly presented the dusty box he was balancing, “you are gonna wear this,” the top slipped off and you caught sight of the most stunning lavender beaded gown you’d ever beheld in your entire life.

“Your Highness,” you marvelled at the way it sparkled in the low light, “I can’t wear that.”

“I know it’s not the latest fashion, but it’ll do a lot better than that frock you’ve got on now. I only remember wearing it once at a ball back in 1861.”

“I-…” you tried to protest, though nothing came out.

“Y/n, this is not a proposition, you are gonna wear that gown and that is final.”

“God, this soiree is even more ghastly than the last one,” Thomas glanced back over at the cluster of young women fanning themselves and batting their luscious eyelashes at the eligible heir, “you think people would notice if we sneaked off?”

Ever thankful that he didn’t receive the same level of unyielding attention, James cocked his brow at the man half-heartedly attempting to hide behind him, “I don’t think that’s an option, brother,” then snatched up two tall flutes of stary bubbles and handed one off, “here, have another glass of champagne.”

“Thanks, but I’m gonna need a lot more in order to survive the 12 dances I've been swindled into later tonight,” he pouted and took a large gulp. Just then, as the crown prince swallowed down the stinging carbonated beverage, he caught sight of the figure that appeared at the top of the wide staircase. “Wait,” he elbowed his brother, ushering him to glance in that direction, “who’s that?”

Recognising you immediately as you timidly ascended the grand steps, clutching onto the side of your lilac dress, lifting it off the tile so as to not have to trip over it, James uttered through his growing smile, “that’s Y/n,” and nothing whatsoever could stop his unwavering gaze.

“Really?” he scoffed, “that’s the scullery maid?”

“That’s her…” James replied dreamily.

“I gotta admit, in that dress, you could almost mistake her for a real princess.”

“Yeah…” James uttered softly, not hearing a word of what he had just agreed with. “Hold this, will you?” without looking, he handed his glass off to his brother and left his post as the crown prince's unofficial shield.

“James!” Thomas hissed, standing there in alarm, one glass in each hand, not sure if he should follow or not, “where are you going? Don’t leave me alone! I’ll be swallowed whole!”

Catching sight of James’ determined approach, you let out a deep and shaky exhale.

“Y/n!” he smiled, coming to a jovial stop right in front of you, ignoring every merry man trying to catch his high-regarded attention.

“Your highness-” you started, but his voice cut in, breaking your greeting in half.

“James,” he corrected you, the glint in his eye promptly sending a shiver down your corseted spine.

“Good evening.”

“I hope it’s not too forward of me for saying this, but you look absolutely beautiful tonight.”

Your breath got caught in your throat as you blushed over his honeyed words, “thank you, your highness. Though I wouldn’t dare take any of the credit, this was all your grandmother’s doing. This is actually one of her old dresses,” you glanced down at the elegant gown, carefully playing with the skirt and presenting it.

Looking over the fabric just as you did, his earnest words nearly didn’t catch your ears, “I wasn’t complimenting your dress…”

Blinking up into his warm eyes, you found yourself speechless, clueless of how to respond to such flattery by someone of his stature.

“Would you care for a dance?” he asked unexpectedly, evidently not caring about the improper nature of the request, and looking at you as if you were the only person in the entire ballroom.

“That’s very kind of you, your majesty, but I’m afraid I would just embarrass you,” you averted your gaze, “you see, I don’t know how.”

Briefly glancing back at his parents, checking to see if they were watching, James then grabbed your hand, it seeming so small and dainty in his, and uttered, “come with me,” discreetly guiding you out into one of the vacant side chambers.

Following his lead, looking back over your shoulder in fear that someone might notice, it calmed you ever so slightly to see that everyone else was entirely enraptured by the dazzling event.

Shutting the door behind you, his hand still holding yours, he gently turned you around to face him once more. Hearing the string quartet still loud and clear through the walls, the prince smiled, “so, miss Y/l/n,” asking you once more, now in a more private setting, “may I have the honour of this dance?”

Lifting the back of your hand up to give it a small peck, eye contact never wavering, you answered, “the honour would be mine,” blinking up at him through your lashes, “yes, yes you may.”

“Okay, so you just put your left hand right here,” he grabbed it and slid it up, past the many shiny medals adorning his chest, to rest upon his broad shoulder, “and keep the right one where it is,” you inhaled sharply as you felt his free palm slide into place on your waist.

“A-alright,” all the hairs on your body stood up at the intimate proximity, “and now?”

Your right hand entirely engulfed in his, he glided his thumb over it, delicately swiping over a few of your fingers, “now you just let me lead,” noticing how your jaw clenched, he reassured you, “don’t worry, love, it’s easy,” you felt your tense muscles begin to relax a bit at his deep soothing tone, “I’ll do all the hard work, you just trust me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you offered him a small nod as he gently began to move, taking you with him as he fell into the song’s rhythm as if it was second nature to him.

Simply swaying softly at first, it didn’t take long before he had you flowing to the music, slowly making your way deeper into the room, dancing further away from the lines of light the closed door cast.

When you eventually felt him gain more confidence and move your body around freely, you followed the instinctual reflex to briefly glance down at your shoes. Feeling his hand let go of your waist momentarily, he whispered, “don't look at your feet,” and lifted your chin up so you could meet his gaze, “look right here.”

Letting his finger drop back down into place, you felt his palm move and slide around to your lower back, drawing you in just a little bit closer. Feeling yourself disappear into the warm eyes veiled behind his spectacles, completely enraptured by his being and entranced by the way he moved you, you felt his hitched breath hit your skin as he leaned in close enough for your lips to graze against each other.

But just as your eyelids fluttered close in anticipation of his eventual touch, the sound of the door, now a good ways away, creaking open halted your dance at once.

“James?” you heard the crown prince call out, music now more vibrant as it didn’t have to travel through walls anymore to reach your ears, “you in here?”

Acting quickly, James pulled you around the corner and settled you into the little alcove there, pushing you up against the plate mail stature decorating the small corner and cloaking your figure with his own. His bulky frame swallowed nearly all of the starry light streaming in from the tall windows scattered around the chamber, causing you to be able to see him and only him.

“Seriously brother, you have to get out here before pa realises that you’re gone!”

Disregarding his sibling’s warning, James stood his ground, completely enraptured and sharing your breath as he pressed himself up against your voluminous gown. You weren’t sure if it was because of the proximity or if your fingers simply followed the magnet calling them, but you found yourself pressing your palms against the silky fabric of his detailed jacket, feeling his taught abdomen expand with every shaky breath.

Dilated pupils flickering down towards your lips, you found your own mirroring his, fearing that you might faint in the intensity of it all.

His lips pressed against yours before you even had the chance to fathom that it was actually happening. The prince was kissing you. His lips were brushing against yours not in curiosity, but in genuine yearning.

“Come on James, stop messing around, I know you’re in here!”

A small string of saliva followed as James reluctantly pulled back, thumbs brushing over each one of your cheeks as he stared deeply down into your hazy eyes.

“Come to my room at midnight,” he whispered breathlessly, restraining himself to dive back in.

“Your highness, I-”

“Please,” he interrupted desperately.

You didn’t give yourself another moment to think before giving him an answer, being completely spellbound, you uttered, “yes.”

And with a bright smile, he let go of you and backed away, still staring as you had to reach out for support against the wall in order to not tumble back against the ornamental armor.

“Just hold your horses, Thomas,” he called out to his frantic brother, eyes still locked with yours, “I’m coming!”

Hearing the rapid beating of your heart thumping in your ears, you let out a shaky breath. It took you a long moment to finally mustered up the courage and let your fist come into contact with the prince’s door.

Almost instantaneously was it ripped open as if James’ fingers themselves had already been mere inches from the silver knob, impatiently lying in wait like a lion on the hunt, the action was so swift that it startled you.

Face lighting up as he saw you, nervously standing outside his chambers, he promptly grabbed onto your wrist and pulled you inside.

As the door shut behind you, “h-hi,” you offered him a meek smile and stood in the dim room as if it was a china shop.

Elatedly biting down on his plump bottom lip, he echoed, “hi,” sliding his fingers down to weave through your own. Using the hold as leverage, he gently pulled you in closer, his other palm ready to catch your cheek before confidently pressing his lips against yours.

When he momentarily pulled away, you squeaked, “your majesty-,” hindering him from taking your lips once more.

“James,” he corrected you breathily, keeping his eyes shut and nuzzling his nose lightly against yours.

“James…” you tried to keep your head levelled, “what am I doing here?”

“What do you mean? Do you not want to be here?” he took the hand still enveloped in his and pressed it against his chest, “here, with me?”

“I…” this was wrong. The list of punishable things to stray away from in your line of work was extensive, but this one was certainly at the top, “James…”

“Christ, that sounds good coming from your lips,” he groaned, seizing your lips again and flexing his fingers on the side of your head, lightly messing up your primly pinned hair.

Feeling yourself melt under his touch, the kisses began to wander, scattering down your goosebump-ridden neck.

“We…” your breathing was heavy and ragged, “we can’t… What if someone finds out?”

Pulling back, he gently shook his head, “they won’t,” dark eyes boring into your very soul.

“But I can’t-… Y-you’re-…”

“I?”

“You are-…”

“I am just me… Just James,” he stared down at you, begging you to stay.

“But-”

“I am yours,” he promised you earnestly, a hint of fear glinting in his golden eyes, “I am all yours.”

Choking down a sob, you then found yourself pulling him down for another kiss, letting his overwhelming vow sink in and dim that warning light pleading you not to venture any further.

Soon clawing at the silky fabric of his jacket, your fingers caught in the two rows of shiny buttons, restraining yourself from just ripping them clean off. Letting out a quiet whimper as James suddenly detached from you, taking a step back, gazing down at your heaving form, not giving in as you reached out for him to return.

Eyes fixed, his own fingers slowly found the buttons along his torso and began to undo them. Tilting his chin up, he watched you closely as he carefully unveiled every inch of himself to you. Moving your fingers up to mirror his actions, he swiftly spoke up, “wait, let me do it,” stopping you before you’d truly begun, “please.”

The wish made you suck in a breath in anticipation, slowly lowering your hands back down to either side of your skirt, clutching onto the heavy lavender fabric for support as you gave him a small nod.

For a moment, you thought he was gonna bear it all to you right then and there, perhaps he did as well, but his fingers stilled right at the waistband of his underwear when only they remained. Blinking sluggishly as you tried to take in his breathtaking visage, in what felt like a millisecond, James had moved to be back into your proximity. Walking around to stand behind you, his fingers then began to work at the numerous buttons and laces, freeing you of the unusually extravagant ensemble.

You hadn’t even noticed how you’d stopped breathing till his lips pressed against your exposed shoulder and let the first layer fall.

Little by little, the weight you carried was lightened as he tossed more and more fabric to the cold floor, creating quite the poofy puddle. When the corset fell off, James quickly replaced the stiff restraining item with his large warm palms, feeling your waist through the last thin layer remaining, inhaling deeply against the back of your neck.

Gently turning you around, he slid his hands up your sides, promptly lifting your arms to stay above your head. Not dropping his eyes from yours, he glided fingers down to gather up the material of your delicate chemise, only lifting it over your head when the whole length of it was bunched up in his fists.

Not being able to wait any longer, you let your arms fall, draping them around his broad shoulders and pressing your bare body up against his, the palpable tent in his briefs twitching against your stomach at the contact.

Kissing him deeply, you nearly didn’t register when he scooped you up into his arms, the action seeming so effortless for the prince. Thighs enveloping his hips, it was first your heel that attempted to rid him of his last remaining clothes, though when it only worked to push them an inch off his hips, you impatiently dropped a hand down to yank them down the rest of the way, letting him step out of them as his slow stride closed in on the plush bed on the opposite side of the chamber.

Feeling the bedframe soon halt his footsteps, your lips didn’t fall from his as he leisurely turned and planted himself on the mattress, taking you with him still securely wedged against his body.

With his hands already rooted on your rear end, now that he no longer needed to carry you, they started to explore your body, palming at every pillowy curve within his reach. It only took one measly little rock of your hips against his thighs for him to needily yank you forward, landing your sobbing centre directly on top of his hard length.

“Your highne-, James,” you whimpered, the intoxicating contact making you detach from his lips and hide your blushing cheeks in his sturdy shoulder, still reciprocating his forward actions and sliding your dripping heat all along his throbbing length.

“Please, let me have you,” he groaned into your hair, his hot breath blowing back some of the unravelled hair framing your face, “let me feel your warmth,” he pressed a palm on the small of your back, making you arch it and causing all of the delicious pressure to always be directly on your buzzing little pearl, “just let me in, love,” his fingers caressed your spine as you moaned against his neck, bucking desperately against his hardness, “let me have you, let me have all of you just like you have me.”

Reaching down between your bodies, you grasped onto James’ cock and lifted up your trembling thighs, though his large palms swiftly scooped under you, granting you some more security as you swept the bulbous tip through your folds, parting the wet petals over and over again till your quivering hole was screaming for attention. And then, still with your face buried in the crook of his neck, you sank down, eyes rolling back in your skull as your creamy pussy slowly swallowed all of his length.

“Fuck,” James cursed, his chest rapidly rising and falling underneath you.

Clinging onto him for dear life, you slowly began to ride him, shakily bouncing in his lap. Lewd squelching noises reverberated off the palace walls as he let you find your rhythm, eventually finding a slow but intense pace, first raising yourself nearly completely off, till just the memory of his girth remained, and then slamming your hips down against his own so hard that it actually made you see stars with how deep he got.

“Let me see that beautiful face of yours,” you felt his fingers come to rest on each side, in no way attempting to force your head back, simply pleading with you sweetly with every gentle sweep of his thumbs against your cheeks. Your hips faltered as you timidly crawled out of your hiding spot and blinked your heavy lids at him.

The shyness eventually melted away as you registered the adoring look in his eye. Gradually resuming your hips moments, you watched as his head tilted back ever so slightly in pleasure and gaze down at you through his lashes, “there you go, darling,” you let out a loud moan as you felt his palm accompany his praise, swiftly landing it upon your bottom, encouraging your bouncing and causing you to get back on track that much faster.

Rapidly nearing the end now that his soulful eyes were locked with yours, you found yourself completely lost in the euphoric feeling, eventually welcoming James’ desperate aid as he dug his fingers into your hips and rocked you in his lap, essentially just using your body as he would with his own fist at night, lifting you off with such ease and fucking into you till you were both absolutely wrecked by the perfectly synched orgasms that rocked your realities. Though still, even as the pace slowed, he still kept on bouncing you in his lap, pushing his load deeper within you with every needy thrust.

Breathlessly, both of you still completely enveloped in each other, your arms sluggishly draped around his neck and his wrapped around your sweaty body, keeping you pressed up against him.

Slowly blinking his eyes open and staring back at you through his glasses, which had long ago glided so far down his long nose that they were now on the verge of falling off, he sighed contently and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Promise that you’ll write to me,” he whispered, his deep rumble making your sensitive body tingle and your walls clamper down on his softening girth.

First giving his nose a light nudge with yours, you then brushed your lips against his, rapidly developing the innocent peck into a kiss so passionate that the time might as well have stopped.

“I will,” you breathed, feeling the most blissful of tears roll down your cheek, “I promise.”

“Y-your majesty!” you gasped, throwing your head back in ecstasy, nearly bumping your head against the doorframe you were balancing against.

Detaching his lips from your swollen clit with a pop, he glanced up at you from his kneeling position and corrected, “James…” chuckling lightly as his fingers still clutched onto your dark skirt, bunching it up at your waist, “love, it’s been a whole year, thought you’d shake that habit by now.”

“Has it truly been a year already?” a shaky breath escaped your throat as he planted a kiss on your gleaming petals that was way too soft for how close he had you to the edge.

“Happiest year of my life…” he beamed, right before diving back in, eating you out so as if someone could walk in and interrupt your fun at any moment, which was completely probable seeing as he hadn't waited for you to be behind closed doors for him to have a taste, simply whirled you around a corner and told you to be on lookout while he had his fun.

“Fuck!” you weaved your fingers through his hair in an effort to keep him steady as the fireworks set off inside your belly, “James, I’m gonna-, don’t stop!”

Bucking against his tongue as he stared up at your pleasure-filled face in awe, his mouth eventually eased into light pecks, loving the way your sensitive form jumped against his lips. Eventually rising back up to his feet, he pressed his slick-covered lips against yours and let your dress fall back down, covering the mess he had made.

“Thank you,” he smiled brightly, lifting his thumb up to clean the glistening lower half of his face, swiping the finger over his chin only to bring it back up to his pillowy lips, licking the rest of your essence off and enjoying every last drop you’d given him.

“…It was an automobile accident…”

“W-what?” James uttered breathlessly, haven not heard a word of what his father had said after the bomb had been dropped.

Tightening his jaw in an effort to control his own unbearable emotions, the severe king repeated, keeping his voice clear and stern, “your brother, crown prince Thomas, died last night. The authorities found him this morning a few hours away from here, in his car, which had crashed, tumbled over completely. I don’t know how long he was out there, trapped beneath an entire ton of metal, waiting it out, all alone… I-…” he let out a shaky breath, momentarily closing his eyes in order to centre himself, “the funeral will be held on Monday. That should give people a chance to get here in time.”

“Monday…” James’ unfocused eyes flicked around the room as he tried and failed to breathe in a world without his big brother, “granny will be able to get here in that time… that’s-…” he noticed how his glasses were now completely fogged up by his agonising tears, “she-, she should be here…”

“My dear boy, you know what this means, right?” he exhaled, trying to catch his son’s glistening eyes, “as of last night your life will never be the same. It’s time for you to step up as the next rightful heir to the crown.”

next part

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somegrumpynerd · 14 days

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What kinda style do you think Nightmare would paint in? Like do you think he'd have something more classical? Maybe realism? old timey stuff? Or impressionism maybe, I feel like he'd enjoy painting outside

I wanna hear your thoughts on this!

Hm yes yes, I definitely have thoughts about this (<- failed their art exam and very quickly googled painting styles lol)

If I'm understanding what I've read right, I think he'd be into realism or impressionism, I can see him spending ages on lots of little details in a picture. I could definitely see him painting outside though! It's easier to just set up in a secluded area than get anyone to look normal while the king of negativity stares at them for a few hours lol

It kind of goes hand in hand with the idea that he documents aus as a hobby as well I guess, like maybe he tries to paint little scenes of certain aus that stick out to him or just to keep as reference in case anything happens to them. Maybe Horror has a little painting in his room of his snowdin to help when he gets homesick?

He definitely doesn't have several paintings hidden in a closet somewhere of his own au before the incident, with a big tall apple-filled tree and a little yellow flag around the trunk and two yellow and purple dots nearby that are probably just a mistake didn't mean to add those don't read into that

Also not that I read your tags on that post but imagine him trying to do a family portrait. First problem is none of them will sit still. Okay that's a lie Cross probably would stand completely still for hours he has royal guard training, but the others are definitely not. I give it 10 minutes at most before Killer's annoying Dust into trying to kill him, Horror probably forgets what they're doing after an hour and starts walking off and has to be called back. At the end of it all he miraculously has a painting but immediately gets hit with "hey wait this is just us!! why aren't you in it? D:" as if he was supposed to go stand behind them and paint himself somehow??

About a week after he hangs it up, he finds somebody has drawn a little cartoonish version of him and taped it onto the painting like he was in it too and he pretends it doesn't make him as happy as it does.

#UTDR #UTMV #Ask #Pigeonstab #Sorry if this makes no sense I'm a fake art fan I don't know all the painters #But I think he does landscapes and maybe dramatic scenes #Like maybe he does illustrations of important events from aus for documentation purposes #Also after a truce do you think he would ask Ink about how Cross's au looked so he could try and paint him a picture of it?#Whether he gets it right or not Cross WILL cry #I also hc that he steals nice art and books from aus they're terrorising #Like a dragon but his hoard is all art and literature #It also makes it harder to tell which things he actually painted/ wrote in the castle

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cha-melodius · 7 months

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Hi friend! Congrats again on 100 works! Thank you for offering to write more for us! ❤️I'd like to request 1. firstprince and 2. Kensington as an AU, but only because you dared us to! Alternatively, if someone already requested that and you don't want to duplicate, I'd be interested in a hockey AU set inside the rink! Thank you again, I am so excited to see what you come up with and to read more of your words!

(Thank you so much for taking my bait lol, I've wanted to write this canon-divergence AU where they hook up in Kensington during the damage control trip for a while now. I hope you enjoy!)

Falling Down the Stairs of Your Smile

(firstprince, 4.1k, M; read it below or on AO3) read all the fandom fest fics

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. They were supposed to finish up at the hospital, and then Henry would go back to whatever the fuck he does while Alex went to the airstrip. He’d fly back to DC, so that maybe he’d be able to get some schoolwork done before Monday, and try to forget that this ridiculous weekend ever happened—barring the fact that he and Henry were still obligated to keep up the fake friendship for a few more months, that is.

Instead, Cash comes up to him as they stand outside of Kensington with a slightly grim look on his face and says, “Change of plans.”

“Huh?”

“They discovered an issue with the plane during the flight prep. It needs some part that they’re not going to be able to get until tomorrow morning. We’ll leave then.”

“What do you mean, they can’t get it? Why not?” Alex demands. Surely in a country with fucking royalty, nothing is out of grasp for said royals and their guests.

Cash shrugs. “Didn’t ask. The palace confirmed you can stay another night.”

Alex groans probably a little too dramatically. “What about my classes?”

“I am, in fact, very aware of your class schedule,” Cash says dryly. “You’ll be back in time.”

“I don’t have another change of clothes.”

“Pretty sure Kensington has laundry.”

“I’m really not getting out of this, am I?”

“Nope.”

Alex sighs and looks over to where Henry is standing with Shaan by the front gates. There’s a look of trepidation on his face, no doubt because he’s just been told that he’ll have to deal with Alex for another night. Of course, that’s not a given. Henry will probably disappear into his apartments and ignore him, which suits Alex fine. They may have reached a kind of détente today, but they’re not friends.

“Sorry to hear about your plane,” Henry says as they get back into the car that will drive them further into the palace.

Alex shrugs. “It’s fine. I guess I’ll have to survive the hardship of ten thousand thread count sheets another night.”

Henry huffs a little laugh and grins. It’s kind of amazing how different he looks when he smiles for real. “I know you’ve probably had your fill of me today, so feel free to say no, but…” He hesitates a moment, as if waiting for Alex to shut him down before he even makes his proposal. “I was thinking of ordering in curry for dinner tonight. There’s a place not far away that’s quite good. Maybe watch a film?”

It’s pretty much the last thing Alex expected him to say. He wonders if this is another olive branch, an acknowledgement that it’ll be easier to pretend they’re friends if they’re actually… kinda friends. Surprisingly, Alex doesn’t hate the idea.

“What movie?” he counters.

“Well, I would suggest one of the Star Wars films, but I’m not sure we could agree on one.”

“If we’re not going to watch the best one, aka Empire—”

“You mean Return of the Jedi,” Henry interjects.

“—I guess that leaves the next best.”

“So, Rogue One?”

Alex grins. “Ok, maybe we can be friends, after all.”

He’s absolutely not letting himself think about the warmth that grows in his chest when Henry laughs.

~~~~~

Alex discovers that there’s a room in Kensington that’s pretty much as tricked out as you can get without being in a movie theater—“There’s an actual theater in Buckingham,” Henry tells him, “but Dad had this put in for family film nights”—with a massive screen and a killer sound system. They eat their curry out of take-out containers on a surprisingly comfortable, normal couch as the movie plays, keeping up a running commentary between them that ranges from Star Wars lore to the cast (“Come on, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t follow Diego Luna anywhere. Look at him!” Alex insists, which garners him a strange look from Henry) to random things entirely unconnected to the movie.

Turns out Henry is actually really funny, which is a fucking shock and kind of annoying except for how he leaves Alex in stitches several times. It’s absurdly easy between them in a way that it shouldn’t be, and Alex can’t remember the last time he had this much fun just hanging out with someone. And it’s Henry. What is his life, even.

“I can’t believe you like this one,” Alex says as they watch Jyn and Cassian embrace desperately on the beach. “It’s pretty much the opposite of a happy ending. For the main characters, at least.”

Henry hums, tipping his head slightly. “They give up everything in the service of a cause bigger than themselves, and they succeed. There’s something beautiful about that.”

“God, you are a sap,” Alex teases, bumping his shoulder up against Henry’s. Somehow they’ve managed to migrate closer on the couch over the course of the movie, until they’re practically touching.

“And why do you like it, then?” Henry counters. “The action and spies and intrigue?”

“Not only that,” Alex says. “But there’s a reason I’m a big Bond fan.”

A smile flickers across Henry’s face that’s a little melancholy but mostly contented. “I suppose that makes sense given what I know of your movie tastes now.”

“Also, your dad was a total babe.”

Henry’s eyes go wide as he chokes on a laugh. “I beg you to not.”

They lapse into silence as the final scenes as the credits start to roll. The movie is over and it’s getting late, but all Alex can think of is that he really doesn’t want the night to end yet. Which is crazy. Twenty-four hours ago Alex was actively cursing this man’s name, and now he seemingly can’t get enough of spending time with him. It doesn’t make any sense, but somehow it does; it’s the same feeling that he was chasing all those years ago in Rio, the one that pushed him to go up an introduce himself at exactly the wrong time, the one that made the hurt of that encounter linger for so long in his psyche.

“Hey, uh,” he says eventually, turning slightly to look at Henry, “thanks for suggesting this. It was fun.”

“I hope it made up for being stuck in London longer than you wanted,” Henry replies, his voice low and soft.

“Definitely.”

Henry smiles, a warm and pleased one that stretches his lips and crinkles the corners of his eyes, and Alex feels like he’s being pulled in by the magnetism of it. He wants to get closer, despite how close they’re already sitting. His fingers twitch with the urge to touch—the soft blond hair falling over Henry’s forehead, the sharp cut of his cheekbones, the fullness of his lips. He’s always known Henry was objectively good-looking, but Jesus, where does he get off being so pretty? It’s annoying, really.

Alex isn’t trying to make things weird, but he also can’t quite help the way his eyes are drawn inexorably down to those plush lips, still curved in a gentle smile. Who even has lips like that, does he get fillers or something, because they can’t be real, except they look very, very real, Alex hasn’t even ever kissed any girls with lips that nice, that look that soft—

Something short circuits in Alex’s brain and he just— has to know. How soft they really are. Before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s leaning in and pressing his lips to Henry’s, which are, as it turns out, extremely soft. It only lasts for a second before his brain comes back online and he realizes Henry’s frozen stiff, which is fair, because Alex has no fucking clue what he’s doing. He hasn’t kissed a boy since Liam and this was not the fucking boy to just kiss out of nowhere. He’s gonna get, like, locked in the Tower of London or something.

He wrenches away as quickly as he leaned in, meeting Henry’s wide, stunned eyes (—still so so blue, how can they be that blue—), his lips slightly parted and just a little damp from Alex’s.

“Shit,” Alex breathes in a rush. “Fucking shit— I don’t know why I did that, I’m so sorry, Henry, I didn’t mean anything by it—”

“Alex,” Henry murmurs, but Alex is too far gone in his spiral at this point.

“—I promise, it was just— I mean, I’m not even—”

“Alex.”

Alex stops in the middle of a word, his mouth hanging open. Henry’s got some kind of strange look on his face that he can’t parse at all.

“Did it really not mean anything?” he asks slowly.

The thing is, Alex has no idea what it means. Absolutely none. Something inside him—something he doesn’t really understand—wanted to do it, but like, just as an objective experiment. Except that part of him wants to do it again, even though he already got his answer. Really wants Henry to kiss him back. Which is making him feel a little insane.

Alex closes his mouth, licks his lips, and swallows hard.

“That depends,” he says cautiously, “on what you want it to mean.”

For some reason, that makes Henry growl in frustration and cast his eyes to the ceiling. Then he groans, “Christ, Alex, you’re so—”, grabs Alex’s face between both hands, and kisses him soundly.

Alex’s insides go positively molten. Henry’s hands are gripping his jaw, and in his hair, and Alex can’t help but press closer. His own hands find Henry’s narrow waist, reveling in the dip of it, the heat of his body scorching through the thin fabric of his shirt, and the only thing currently occupying Alex’s mind is a desperate urge to feel bare skin under his palms. That is, until Henry slides his tongue along Alex’s lower lip, sucks it into his mouth and tugs on it with his teeth, and Alex stops thinking altogether.

Their positions are a little awkward, twisted toward each other on the couch as they are, and Alex isn’t sure if he pulls or Henry pushes—or maybe both—but a moment later Henry is unfolding his long legs and shifting to straddle Alex’s lap, which is both incredible and incredibly overwhelming. Especially when Henry’s hips rock forward and Alex can feel his growing arousal pressing into the rapidly tightening region of Alex’s pants.

Jesus, this is— it’s— it’s a lot, but the very last thing Alex wants to happen is for it to stop.

He absolutely does not whimper when Henry pulls back, sending Alex unconsciously chasing after his lips. Fortunately, Henry doesn’t go far. He presses their foreheads together, breathing raggedly into the space between them as his thumb swipes across Alex’s cheek.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Henry breathes, and yeah, Alex had no fucking clue.

His mind is spinning at a thousand miles an hour, and he has no idea what to say to that besides: “Fuck.”

Henry chuckles softly, nudging their noses together. “Indeed.” He presses a soft kiss to Alex’s lips, then another to the corner of his mouth and one to the edge of his jaw. “Do you want to… go somewhere we won’t be interrupted?” he murmurs into Alex’s ear, and his warm breath combined with the words makes Alex tremble under him.

Alex swallows hard as his hands tighten on Henry’s hips, but he hesitates a moment too long because then Henry is actually pulling back, a concerned expression creasing his brow.

“Which is not to say— we don’t have to do anything more if you don’t want— I just thought—”

“I want to,” Alex blurts, surprising even himself. He’s not entirely sure what more means to Henry, but he knows he wants it. Jesus, does he want. “Yes. Fuck. Let’s do that.”

Henry grins, wide and nearly blinding in its brilliance, and Alex thinks he would do just about anything to see that smile on his face always.

They clamber off the couch, adjusting themselves with shared, knowing giggles, then Henry grabs his hand and tugs Alex through formal, stuffy corridors lined with portraits and antiques, which just adds a certain something to the absurdity of the whole situation. Somehow it’s not a surprise that Henry’s apartments are just as impersonal and opulent as the rest of the palace, full of hideous floral wallpaper and baroque furniture. Before, he’d have put that on Henry himself, but now it feels wrong despite the fact that Alex still barely knows him. It feels like he knows enough. Henry eats curry on the couch and cracks crude jokes and sniffles at the tragic endings of Star Wars movies (yes, Alex noticed). Henry is warm and soft and feels like he belongs in cozy, simple rooms full of old books and tea and cardigans.

Alex’s musings are cut off when Henry pulls him close again at the foot of the hideous gilt monstrosity that is his bed, wrapping his arms around Alex’s waist and tugging him into a lingering kiss. It’s softer than before, delicate and sweet, exactly like Alex would imagine Prince Charming would kiss. From this angle Alex has to tip his head up to kiss him, which is definitely not something he ever thought would do it for him, and yet. Henry’s evening stubble scratches against his chin, and broad hands grip onto his hips and pull him against the hard, flat planes of Henry’s chest, all of it constantly reminding him of the unmistakable masculinity of the person he’s currently making out with.

Alex thinks, distantly, that he should probably be freaking out about this a bit more, but it’s too easy to give himself over it in the moment. He can freak out about what whatever the fuck it means later.

Henry’s hands move to the front of Alex’s shirt, and his nimble fingers make short work of the buttons before pushing it backwards off Alex’s shoulders. His fingers leave trails of fire where they linger against Alex’s bare skin, and even just this has Alex moaning into the kiss, desperate for more. He tugs at Henry’s shirt, yanking the tails out of his pants and nearly tearing the buttons open in his haste, which makes Henry laugh at him, the bastard.

“Eager, are we?” Henry teases, and Alex bites the grin right off his face.

“Shut all the way up,” he huffs before sinking his teeth into the absolutely irresistible collarbone he’s just uncovered.

Henry sucks in a gratifying breath at that, his hands tightening on Alex’s waist, and then he’s manhandling Alex back onto the mattress, which has no business being as hot as it is. Alex kicks off his shoes before scrabbling backwards so that he’s lying against the pillows, his heart racing as Henry crawls up over him with a nearly predatory grin on his face. The way his body fully blankets Alex’s is overwhelming in the best way, making every part of Alex ache with the need to somehow be closer, even as Henry presses the their bodies together from knee to chest and captures Alex’s lips in another deep, probing kiss.

They kiss and kiss until Alex’s lips are almost numb from it, their hands roving over heated skin and through thoroughly mussed hair. Henry’s hips roll slowly against him, almost a question, and Alex groans when he feels the hardness of Henry’s cock pushing against his hip. His own is straining against the front of his trousers, and his breath shudders in his chest when he imagines what it would feel like to have Henry’s hands wrapped around him.

But—

“Hey, uh,” he breathes as Henry’s mouth moves to his neck, and he’s nearly driven to distraction by the feeling of Henry’s teeth scraping lightly over his pulse point, but he wants to get this out, “I’ve never actually—” His voice fails, and Henry pulls back just enough to look him in the eye. Alex swallows. “Done this. With a guy. I mean, kinda, but not really—” He lets out a frustrated huff. “It’s a long story.”

Henry stares at him so intensely and earnestly that Alex feels flayed open by it, like Henry can see all the parts of him that Alex himself didn’t know were there. “We can just do this,” he says as he pushes a curl back from Alex’s forehead. “The last thing I want is to push you into something you’re not comfortable with.”

It’s completely reasonable not to rush things, but Alex thinks if he leaves London without seeing Henry naked he might fucking expire.

“Did I not already fucking say I wanted it?” he retorts, a little testily. Better that than admitting how desperate he really is.

“Well, to be fair, we didn’t exactly specify—”

“I want you naked,” Alex breathes in a rush. “I want your hands on me. Your mouth, if— if that’s something you want.”

Henry’s gaze goes dark and hot, and he actually licks his lips. Alex’s dick twitches in his pants. Jesus Christ.

Henry dips back down to kiss his neck, but a moment later he answers. “That,” he says, pressing it into Alex’s skin as he kisses a path down his chest, “is something I very much want.”

Then Henry’s hands are at his waistband, making short work of his belt and peeling off his underwear and pants in one go, and everything goes very, very hazy after that in the absolute best possible way.

~~~~~

The room is quiet after they subside, after every ounce of pleasure has been wrung from their bodies, after shouted names ease into murmured endearments.

“I should go,” Alex eventually whispers into the stillness, because he should. It would be better if he spent the night in his own rooms. Safer.

He doesn’t want to, though. He doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts right now, doesn’t want to give his brain the space to run wild with this. That’s what will happen if he goes. He’ll fall into a research spiral on google, and text Nora even though it’s too late, and quietly freak out about everything that’s happened tonight. Here, though, Henry’s got an arm thrown over his waist, and it’s not much, but the weight of it soothes something within him. Keeps him grounded.

Maybe it’s just Henry that settles him. He doesn’t want to think too hard about that.

“You could stay,” Henry murmurs back. He leans in, presses a kiss to the outside of Alex’s shoulder. “No one will notice. Tomorrow’s Sunday. The staff come in late.”

This is a terrible idea. This can’t be… anything, really, given who they are. Alex doesn’t even know what he wants it to be, but he knows that.

“You sure?” Alex asks anyway.

“Stay,” Henry repeats.

So Alex stays.

~~~~~

The bed Alex wakes up in is unfamiliar, which is hardly surprising given his travel schedule lately. What is unexpected is that he’s naked, and there’s a warm, naked body pressed against his back, and abruptly all of what he got up to the previous night comes slamming back into vivid clarity.

He slept with the fucking prince. Henry. His nemesis, except not actually, apparently, and oh yes, definitely also a dude. Alex sucked his dick and most definitely enjoyed the experience, so that’s a whole new thing. The freakout about his sexuality that he shoved to the back of his mind last night rockets to the forefront now, and he can feel his breath stutter in his chest.

Except then Henry’s arm tightens around him and he presses a sleepy kiss to the back of Alex’s shoulder, and the tightness in his chest unclenches somewhat. Not all the way, but enough.

He fumbles for his watch, then jolts up to sitting with a new fear once he sees the time. Jesus Christ, Cash or Amy is going to show up at his bedroom any minute now to pick him up so they can leave, and Alex isn’t fucking there. This is a disaster.

Henry grumbles at being disrupted, sleepily rubbing at his eyes in a way that’s definitely not adorable at all. “Time is it?” he mumbles through a yawn.

“Late,” Alex huffs, briefly getting tangled in the sheets and nearly falling out of the bed in his haste to find his clothing.

He’s halfway into his pants when there’s a knock at Henry’s bedroom door, and he almost falls on his face again. That seems to wake Henry up a bit more, and he finally sits up, his hair standing up in all directions and his eyes gone wide.

“Yes?” Henry calls out.

“The Secret Service seem to have misplaced their charge,” comes Shaan’s voice through the door, and Alex would very much like to die right now. Henry stumbles out of bed, throwing on a robe, then opens the door just enough so that Alex isn’t visible. “I told them I would inquire with you to see if you had any idea of Mr. Claremont-Diaz’s whereabouts.”

There’s something very knowing in Shaan’s tone, like he’s perfectly aware of where Alex spent the night and furthermore none of this is exactly a surprise to him, and Alex only barely manages to hold back the extensive collection of curses crowding at the tip of his tongue. What the actual fuck.

“Ah,” Henry says. His cheeks are bright pink. “Just a moment, I’m sure I can help you locate him.”

“I’m not sure I’ve properly conveyed how agitated they are, sir.”

“Tell them I’m ok,” Alex sighs begrudgingly, stepping into view now that his shirt and pants are on. It’s not like he’s kidding anyone; he’s still barefoot in Henry’s bedroom and the bed that two people clearly slept in is fully visible from where Shaan is standing. “I just—”

Shaan holds up a hand. “Believe me when I say that you do not need to finish that sentence. I will deliver the message, but”—he pauses, glancing between them—“you probably shouldn’t linger.”

He pulls the door closed behind him as he goes and, despite the warning, Alex stands there for a minute, rooted in place and staring at the floor. Maybe Shaan doesn’t want an explanation, but the Secret Service certainly will. Fuck.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” Henry says quietly, suddenly close beside him. Alex hadn’t heard him approach. He still looks so soft and sleep-rumpled, and something tugs at Alex’s chest that absolutely should not be tugging. “I shouldn’t have talked you into staying here.”

Alex huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “I didn’t take much convincing,” he says. “I shoulda just set a fucking alarm.”

“Probably,” Henry agrees, his lips tipping into a wry smile that fades into a look of concern. “Are you… ok?”

“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t I be?” he answers, probably a little too quickly. Henry just stares at him in that way that makes Alex feel entirely too seen. “Probably gonna get chewed out for disappearing, but it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“That’s not exactly what I was talking about.”

Alex swallows. “I’m fine.” He offers Henry a little smile. “This was fun.”

“It certainly was,” Henry agrees carefully.

“Where’s your phone? I’ll give you my number, it’ll be easier to plan joint appearances or whatever,” Alex says in a blatant attempt to divert from a discussion about what happened or what this makes them. He’s got to figure his own shit out first. He doesn’t need Henry to know that he’s already wondering when he can arrange his schedule to see him again.

Henry gives him a look, but he fetches his phone and hands it over to Alex with a blank contact page open. Alex types in his number and hands it back.

“I’ll be disappointed if you only use that for booty calls,” he jokes.

Henry sputters out a laugh. “Noted.”

He’s endearingly pink-cheeked and smiling, and Alex doesn’t think before he takes the last step that puts him in Henry’s personal space, grabs the fronts of Henry’s robe, and pulls him into a kiss.

If he’d had any lingering doubts about the previous night, about whether what he’d felt was real or not, this thoroughly dispels them. The press of Henry’s lips to his, the way their mouths slot together as easily as if they’ve been doing this for years, the zip of electricity that fizzles under his skin and spreads out to tingle in the tips of his fingers and toes… Alex has never been kissed like this, has never felt like this being kissed, and it’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

Like he’s falling.

Oh. Fuck.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince fic #firstprince fanfic #my fics #chamel's fandom fest

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rhoorl · 8 months

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Delta Landscaping | Let's Do Lunch

Series Summary: In this AU, the boys of Delta Force start a new business post-Colombia.

Series Masterlist

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 5.7k

Chapter Summary: Katie and Will’s lunch interspersed with a few other scenes.

Chapter Warning: We get a little spicy (not a lot, just a makeout). Reminder, I don’t have a beta for this, so any mistakes are all mine.

A/N: Will gets a bit more of a spotlight this chapter. I would have never thought I would lead off the romance portion of this story with Will, but here we are!

Thank you @trulybetty for your continued counsel 🙂 And now, we return to the latest episode of As the Mule Falls (thank you for the soap opera title @goodwithcheese!).

Will walked all the way back home with a smile on his face. As he approached his house, he noticed Frankie’s truck still in the driveway, so he was expecting to walk into the guys sitting around drinking beers and cracking jokes. Instead, when he opened the front door, all of the lights were off save for the lamp in the living room and the glow from the TV. Benny was entranced in a racing video game, slightly moving his eyes off the screen to see his brother walk in.

“You seem happy.”

Will rolled his eyes, ignoring his brother’s smirk. “Where’s Fish and Pope?”

“Next door with Ms. Lucille still, I guess. So…how was walking Katie home?”

“Good. I’m, ah, I’m gonna go over there tomorrow around lunchtime, so I’ll skip the gym.”

Benny paused his game and looked at his brother, “Dude, we are leaving around like 9, you’re not gonna head over there until, what, noon? What do you need all of that time for? I know you like to be early, but that’s kinda overboard.”

“I’m going to go pick up lunch,” Will rolled his eyes, annoyed at Benny’s line of questioning.

“Where are you picking it up from, Orlando?”

“No, dickhead…I asked Megan what kinda food Katie likes and she said Thai, so I’m thinking of going to Royal Orchid.”

“Royal Orchid? That place is like on the other side of town…”

“That’s why I’m leaving early so I’m not rushed.”

Benny shook his head, “I mean, do whatever you want but that shit’s gonna be cold by the time you get to her house.”

“Pretty sure she has a microwave.”

Benny threw his hands up in surrender, “Fine, just saying!” The corners of his mouth quirked up.

“I know what you’re thinking…”

“What? It’s been a while since you’ve put forth this much, uh, effort.”

“Yeah, well despite what you think I’m not planning on jumping head first into anything-” he was cut off by Benny’s snort. “What the hell is so funny?”

“Sorry, you said,” Benny giggled, “head first. I couldn’t resist. Ow!” Will threw a pillow at Benny.

“You know what I mean. Look, she’s nice, and she is our neighbor so I don’t want to do anything to make it awkward.”

Will and Benny paused when they heard the doorknob turn. Frankie and Santiago came through the door with several plates in their hands wrapped in aluminum foil.

“You guys hungry?” Santiago asked.

“How are you guys still hungry?” Will asked.

“Lulu gave us some leftovers, you know we can’t resist her,” Frankie smiled as he closed the door behind him.

“Oh, and we’re crashing here tonight…so I’m gonna grab another beer. Anyone want one?” Santiago made a beeline to the kitchen. He saw the guys nod, so he placed the plates on the kitchen island and grabbed four beers from the refrigerator.

Will, Benny, and Frankie followed him, all crowding around the kitchen island, unwrapping the foil off of the plates.

“Empanadas?! Fuck yes, these are so fucking good,” Benny took a bite.

Frankie and Santiago looked at each other and started laughing.

“What?” Benny asked with a full mouth, looking at the two men.

“Pope owes me $5 cuz I said it would take less than 10 minutes for you to stuff your face with one of these,” Frankie started laughing.

The men sat around, polishing off the leftovers and the beers before calling it a night.

_________________________

Katie: Help! What do I wear tomorrow?

Megan: What do you mean? You going into the office tomorrow for something?

Katie: No! Will is coming over for lunch.

Megan: Ohhhhh! Ok, um. I don’t know. Send me some options!

Katie: K, I’ll do that in the morning, I don’t have a meeting until 10 so I’ll have time.

Megan: Are you excited?

Katie: I mean, he’s coming to check out what he could help with around the house. I’m nervous that the house is a mess.

Megan: Going out on a limb here that he doesn’t give a shit what state the house is in. 😉

Katie: Lol. We’ll see…

Megan: Come on! He’s hot. You’re hot. Have some fun!

Katie: Ok good night!!

______________________

The next morning, Frankie was the first to get up, his alarm pulling a groan from Santiago when it went off.

“Come on man get up, I wanna get home and change.”

“You can go, I’ll stay here today. Or get Benny to drive me over later or something, I’ll figure it out,” Santiago grumbled, face down into his pillow.

“Well, fine. But I don’t wanna hear you bitching later that I stranded you here.”

Santiago waved him off, face still in the pillow, before pulling the comforter up over his head.

Frankie shook his head as he grabbed his shirt from the floor, putting it over his head as he made his way out to the living room. He was surprised to see Benny sitting on the couch tying his shoes.

“You’re up and at ’em aren’t you?”

“Yeah, well, Connor wanted to go to the gym today, so I figured we could get an early start.”

“Nice, he’s a good kid.”

“He is…you headed out to your meeting?”

“Yeah, I switched it to Monday mornings, it’s a good way to start the week,” Frankie said as he took off his hat and ran his fingers through his curls before returning it to the top of his head.

“Well, I’m proud of you man,” Benny looked up from where he was sitting on the couch to give an encouraging smile.

“Thanks, man.”

“Whoa, where are you off to all dressed up?” Benny raised his eyebrows seeing Will walk into the living room, shoes in hand.

Will was trying to stealthily make it to the kitchen without alerting his brother or Frankie of his presence, but they all knew better than to try and sneak around one another. Will was dressed casually, donning a pair of dark-wash jeans and a white Polo shirt. It was a far cry from the gym shorts and T-shirts which had become his new uniform.

“I’m just wearing jeans and shirt, Ben, you act like I’m wearing a goddamn tuxedo.” he snapped.

Frankie and Benny exchanged looks, trying not to laugh but failed miserably.

“Man fuck you guys. I’ll remember how much shit you’re giving me for the future, believe that.” Will tried to be serious, but a smirk snuck out which turned into a laugh.

“We know, Mr. ‘I have a great memory so I remember shit,’” Benny said sarcastically.

Knock.

Benny jumped off the couch to answer the door.

“Hey, Connor!” He slapped the boy on the back of the shoulder as he walked into the house. “Let me grab my bag and we’ll head out.”

“Sure, sounds good. Hey guys!” Connor waved to Frankie and Will. “Will, you look nice, you have a job interview or somethin?”

Benny and Frankie busted out in hysterics as Connor looked on confused.

“Wait, what did I say?”

“Nothing Connor, these two are just being a bunch of dicks,” Will shook his head.

“Alright Will have fun at your lunch, if you need anything, we have a stash of … you know … in the bathroom.” Benny winked.

“I’ll head out too, hope it goes well, man!” Frankie got up from the couch, following Connor and Benny out of the door.

______________________

As Benny pulled out of the driveway, he glanced over to Connor, “So, how’d yesterday go with Aria. You know,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “now that your mom isn’t around,” he winked.

“G-good, I think. It was nice to hang out with her.”

“Yeah man, I saw you two talking by yourselves. It looked like it was going well,” he quickly took his eyes off the road looking over to Connor who was smiling to himself and gazing out the window. “She gave you a hug too, don’t think I didn’t see that!”

“Ha yea. I was kinda hoping she would let me give her a hug, so I was excited when she did it first.”

“A lady who knows what she wants, I knew I liked her!” Benny chuckled. “So, did you all make plans to see each other again?”

Connor rubbed his hands down his thighs, “No, not yet. We texted a bit last night though.”

“All of it clean I hope?”

“Wh-what? I…uh-”

“I’m just fucking with you man,” Benny tilted his head back in laughter.

“But yeah, we were texting last night talking about movies and stuff.”

“Is there anything she wants to see? Do people your age go to the movies for dates anymore? That was always a go-to for me.”

“It was?”

“Yeah, I mean, I didn’t give a shit about the movie…usually…it was just a dark place to make out,” Benny recalled some fond memories he’d had in the back of movie theaters in his youth. “I’m not saying that’s what you need to do, or what she’s suggesting, that was just like my thing,” he smirked.

“Ok, well, maybe I’ll suggest something else,” he said a bit nervously. “She really likes food, so I was thinking of this like food truck thing my mom took me to a couple of months ago. It was actually pretty fun.”

“I think that’s a great idea!”

There was a bit of a lull in the conversation as the two listened to whatever music was playing on the radio.

Connor looked over to Benny, whose eyes were squarely on the road, one hand at the top of the steering wheel, the other hanging out of the window.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah bud, what’s up?” Benny took his eyes off the road for just a millisecond to glance at Connor.

“When’s the last time you went on a date?”

Benny tensed up slightly. He knew Connor was asking the question with the best of intentions, but it still stirred up some emotions Benny had been actively trying to push down. “Oh ah…it’s been a while.”

“Really? Like how long is a while.”

“Uh, let’s see,” he drummed his thumb on the steering wheel. “The last proper date I went on? Hmm…shit, I guess it’s been like maybe..three years? I went through a phase before and after my last relationship where I wasn’t really into formalities.”

Benny really hoped that Connor didn’t press him further on this, not wanting to recount all of his exploits to the young man.

“Oh…gotcha.”

“Not super proud of that time of my life if I’m honest,” Benny chuckled, always turning to humor when he felt uncomfortable.

Connor could tell the conversation was venturing into a territory that Benny wasn’t super comfortable with, so he decided to change subjects and instead asked what kind of workout Benny had planned for him. This switch seemed to set Benny at ease a bit more, allowing him to focus on Connor rather than himself for the rest of the drive to the gym.

______________________

Megan: Ok, I think the third picture you sent is my favorite.

Katie: Cool, that was actually my favorite one.

Katie’s work-from-home attire was usually comfort over fashion. Most days were spent in sweatpants, yoga pants, or shorts, paired with a plain t-shirt or tank with her hair up in a messy bun. She had an array of cardigans and sweaters in the closet of her home office at the ready in case she needed to look more put together for an impromptu Zoom call. For today though, she opted to dress up a bit, going for a pair of light-wash skinny jeans, with a slouchy light pink tank top, tucked in at her waist. She spent some extra time this morning to do her hair and add a light touch of makeup.

Megan: Here’s to a great “lunch” 😉

Katie: It’s just lunch Meg.

Megan: Mkay, whatever you say. I may or may not decide to walk Bucky to keep an eye on you kids…

Katie: 🙄 Ok bye! I will text you when he leaves, I promise. Please don’t make it weird.

Megan: Love ya babe! 😘

Katie strolled into her home office, situated at the front of her house. In the morning, the room was bathed in natural light from the beautiful set of large windows to the right of her desk. This room was one of her favorite parts of the entire home and her happy place. It housed some of her crafting items and she regularly sat in there to read or listen to music. The large windows also came in handy to keep an eye on the happenings on Mulefall Court, even if it was just keeping tabs on the parade of various cleaning services, dog groomers, and grocery deliveries who came during the day.

Katie rolled her eyes as she logged onto her first Zoom call of the day, scrolling her phone while her bosses droned on. Her 10 a.m. call ran right into her 11 a.m., which was only supposed to last half an hour, giving her time to freshen up before Will arrived. At least, that was the plan.

Ugh, I should have known this meeting was going to run late.

Katie kept an eye on the clock on the lower left-hand side of her screen. She went off video and took her laptop to the kitchen to quickly put away her dishes from breakfast and straighten a few things up as best she could.

__________________

Will knew he was early, but he couldn’t help himself. Since he was a young boy, his father instilled the notion that being early meant you were on time and if you were on time, you were late. The military put this into overdrive for Will and he was always early to being early, this morning was no exception.

As he walked his way up to Katie’s house, now in the daylight, he assessed the exterior of her home. The front porch was large and inviting, a blank canvas for whatever design ideas she no doubt already had planned. As he walked up the steps, he ran his hand down one of the wooden columns. Last night, he thought something looked a little off, but now he could clearly see some chipped and missing paint where the column met the ceiling. The more he examined the more he noticed that the columns were bowing out slightly. He made a mental note to bring this up to Katie if she didn’t mention it, assuming that there was some water damage.

__________________

Katie made it back to her office when she saw movement up her driveway. Will was walking up with a couple of bags in his hands.

Shit, he’s early.

Glancing back at her screen, she looked at the time – 11:45. She then heard a knock at the door and rushed over to open it, her laptop still in hand. When she opened the door, Will looked up at her, giving a small smile.

“Hey.”

Shit, he looks good.

“Hey, come on in!” Katie mouthed to him as she held up her laptop, waving Will in and pointing him to the dining room. She double-checked she was on mute, “Sorry, this meeting is running a little long…and you’re early.” She smirked.

“What can I say, old habits die hard,” he chuckled.

“Well, make yourself at home, I’ll be out as soon as I can. There’s water and other drinks in the fridge.” She made her way back to the office, sitting down just in time to hear her boss ask her a question.

Will took out the to-go containers from the bag, organizing everything in a line, and keeping the lids on to try and keep some of the heat in. He then took to looking around the kitchen, trying to find plates, cups, and cutlery. He studied the cabinets, putting himself in Katie’s shoes to see where she may have put the various items.

Pacing around he looked at the cabinet next to the refrigerator, reaching toward it and smiling as he opened to see an array of glassware. He took two glass cups out and filled them with the filtered water from her refrigerator.

His next mission was to find the plates. He opened the cabinet door next to the one with the glasses but found it was full to the brim with meal prep containers and mixing bowls. Shaking his head at the mess, he went on to the next cabinet and as he attempted to open the door, it swung off the hinges.

“Fuck!” He scrambled to try and recover, but it was too late.

“Jeez, I thought you were supposed to be helping me fix the house not tear it up even more!“ He heard Katie chuckle.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he blushed. “I can fix it, here let me go-”

“It’s ok, Will,” she cut him off. “That door was honestly hanging on by a thread. It’s a miracle I didn’t do the same thing this morning when I grabbed my cereal bowl out of there.”

She moved around her kitchen island toward him, taking the door from his hands and placing it on the ground.

“Well, I still feel bad, I’ll have to make it up to you.” His breath hitched as he could smell the perfume she had on, a light citrus smell that wafted through the whole room.

“Hmm…we’ll see about that,” she moved around him, reaching up to grab some plates, her arms brushing his.

“So, what did you bring? It smells amazing.” She walked over to the containers he had laid out.

“Well, I got some chicken pad thai, some yellow curry, rice, and veggies,” he pointed to each container.

“Wow, here I was expecting you to just grab us a Pub sub or something,”

“Ha, I’m not a huge fan of Publix,” he rubbed the back of his head. “Besides, I wanted to take advantage and get something I wanted,” his eyes dipped from her eyes to her lips before clearing his throat. “Uh, Benny isn’t the biggest fan of Thai, so I hardly ever get it.”

“Well, Thai food is my favorite. How did you know? Some secret interrogation technique I didn’t realize you were doing to me?” She furrowed her brows at him.

“Ha no, I wouldn’t do anything to you without your permission,” he blushed, realizing the innuendo he didn’t mean to imply.

Will was thankful Megan was so discrete yesterday when he asked her at the pool party the kind of food Katie liked. He was also so relieved when she said Thai since it was one of his favorites and he had just the place in mind. The two quietly plated their food and made their way to the dining room table.

“Sorry it’s such a mess in here, I have a few projects going.”

“It’s all good, that’s why I’m here right? To make it better?” Will’s eyes lingered on Katie’s before he quickly looked down to take an bite.

“Mmm, this is amazing! Is this place close? How have I not heard of it?”

“Ha, it’s over by the gym Benny goes to by MacDill.”

“You went all the way out there for takeout?”

“Yeah,” he looked sheepish. “It’s uh, worth the drive. It’s the closest I can get to what I had in Thailand.”

“You’ve been to Thailand?”

“Been to a few places, we went all over,” he gave a tight smile.

“Oh duh, that’s right! Well, thank you. You didn’t have to go through all of this trouble,” she smiled.

“It’s really no trouble at all. So, what kind of stuff do you need help with? You know, besides the cabinet door,” he laughed.

“Ha. Well, you’re in probably the biggest disaster zone of the whole house. And honestly, you did me a favor with the cabinet, I want to replace them all actually. Then upgrade the appliances, put in some backsplash…basically make this look like it’s not from the 90’s you know?”

“I hear ya. So the kitchen is going to be a big project. What else?”

“I’m sure you noticed the porch when you walked up.”

“Well, to be fair, I noticed it last night but I didn’t want to say anything.”

“Why not?”

Will leaned forward, “I was a little distracted.” He smirked as he saw Katie get flustered. “And it was a little dark too.”

Katie cleared her throat. “Well, that’s definitely a priority for me. The porch. I feel like Olivia isn’t going to let the kids come over as long as that shit isn’t fixed.”

As Katie talked through a few more projects, Will’s mind started to swirl, trying to figure out what he could and couldn’t accomplish on his own, or with the guys’ help. He made a mental note to call Joel later to pick his brain; the last thing he wanted to do was mess anything up further, especially with the porch. Since he was fairly confident about the water damage, he wanted his cousin’s opinion about how realistic it would be for him to repair it on his own.

“Wanna check out the rest of the house? There’s some other, uh, projects.”

“Uh, yeah.” Will got up and pushed his chair in, grabbed his plate, and headed for the sink.

“Oh just put it on the island, I’ll take care of it later. C’mon,” she waved him on.

Will followed closely behind her, checking her out as she walked in front of him. She led him down a hallway where he saw her office to his left as they turned down toward another room.

“Ok, so this is the guest bathroom. I would love to just change out the vanity and the mirror and, oh, maybe the light fixture and the covers for the light switch. And then some new paint.” Realizing she was starting to ramble, she cut herself off.

Will thought it was cute how excited she got. “You seem to have a lot of great ideas.”

“Yea? You don’t think it’s dumb to completely redo the guest bathroom?”

“What? No, you’re really excited about it, why would I think that?” he shook his head as he leaned back against the wall in the hallway.

“What did you say earlier? Old habits die hard?” she chuckled. “I guess I could say the same.” Her eyes dropped to the floor.

Will looked down the hall, seeing what looked like a bedroom with the door slightly cracked open. There were a bunch of boxes stacked on top of each other.

“What’s all that?” He pointed his chin toward the room.

“Wha-oh, no that’s actually Ikea furniture I need to build. I went a couple of weeks ago with Megan and Connor and bought a bunch of stuff. I keep meaning to have him come over here and build it since he’s home for the summer and has the time. Told him I’d pay him or buy him a new video game or whatever he wants if he would help me out,” she laughed.

“There seems to be lot of boxes there, I’m happy to come over and help him. I’ll bring Benny too. You can still pay Connor,” he winked.

“Well, isn’t that nice of you,” she smirked, shifting her weight to one leg, her other hip popped out as she leaned against the wall opposite Will. “But, how would I repay you?”

Will looked from her lips to her eyes. “I have an idea,” he wet his lips as he pushed himself off of the wall and closed the distance between them.

He paused briefly, checking her body language to see if she wanted him to continue. Her breath hitched and her gaze flitted from his eyes to his lips and back. One of his hands cupped the side of her face and the other went around her waist as he further closed the distance until his lips touched hers. The kiss was tentative at first, he was still trying to gauge her reaction. A few more chaste kisses followed before Katie moved one hand to the back of his neck, lightly scratching his scalp, wishing his hair were a bit longer hair so she could tug and pull it. Her other hand moved to grip his shirt at his waist.

Will felt a bit more emboldened now that she was reciprocating, smiling into their kiss once Katie opened her mouth, letting him explore with his tongue. He trailed kisses down her chin and neck and grabbed under her thigh, hitching her leg up so he could slot himself closer to her.

The move caused Katie’s core to ache as she rocked against Will, feeling his length growing through his jeans. She bit her lower lip to stifle the whimper which still managed to sneak out. Her hands reached for the bottom of Will’s shirt, moving to raise it up when she heard her work phone ring. She hid her face in his neck, reluctant to pull away. He rested his head against hers as they both caught their breaths.

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” she whined. “But, I need to get that.”

“Y-yea, all good. You are on the clock after all.” He backed up ran his hand over his head and adjusted the front of his pants.

Katie tamed her hair as she ran back down the hallway to her office, managing to answer just before the call dropped. She was willing herself to concentrate even though her mind was fuzzy from the steamy makeout with Will – her first kiss in months.

“Hey Kevin, no I’m not busy, what’s up?” She had a tight smile as she listened to her coworker drone on. She stole a glance down her hallway to see Will. He was leaning against the wall, looking up at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. “Hey Kev? Can I call you back in a sec? Sorry, I have someone at my door. Ok, yes I’ll call you right back!”

She hung up and went back over to Will. “Hey,” she smiled.

“Hey,” he wrapped both arms around her for a hug as she looked up at him. “So, I should uh, probably let you get back to work, huh?”

“Uh, y-yea, sorry.”

“I mean, to be fair, you’re very busy so I think that it’s perfectly acceptable to let you get back to it,” he chuckled as his nose brushed against hers.

“Mmm yes, perfectly acceptable,” she smiled as he came in for another kiss.

He was a bit more frantic this time, moving his hands under her shirt as she moaned into his mouth. He cupped her breast she she rocked into him, kissing down his neck as a low growl came from his throat.

Realizing how much time had passed, Katie suddenly pulled back, “Mmm, Will..as much as I really want to keep this going, if I don’t call Kevin back he’s going to lose his shit.”

“I get it, I’ll … uh … head out.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Sure you don’t want me to clean up or anything? I feel bad leaving it all for you,” he nodded towards the kitchen.

“Don’t even worry about it. Thank you for bringing lunch.”

Katie knew that if Will was still in her house after she got off her call then she might as well call in sick on account of not being able to concentrate on anything else for the rest of the day besides him.

“Yeah, anytime,” he smiled, leaning down for another kiss.

“C-can we revisit this another time?” She smiled as he pulled away from her.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

She walked him back to the front door, giving him another quick kiss before opening it.

“Thanks for lunch, it was, uh, really good.”

“The best lunch I’ve had in a while,” he chuckled as he walked out. “See ya later Katie.”

“Bye, Will.”

Once she shut the door, Katie leaned against the front door, trying to settle her racing pulse. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, she made a beeline to her office to pick up her phone deciding to shoot off a quick text before calling Kevin back, he could wait.

Katie: Please tell me Connor can occupy himself tonight. I need you.

Megan: Shit! What happened?!

Katie: I kinda made out with Will…

Megan: 🥳 I’ll be over after I log off. Red or white?

Katie: Red, please!

__________________

Will saw Benny’s car parked back in the driveway as he walked toward their house. He was thankful that his excitement about making out with Katie wasn’t as visible as it was, although he was a little on edge. He knew Benny was going to give him shit no matter what and hoped it could be a quick conversation so he could go take a cold shower.

As he walked into the house, he noticed it was quiet. Benny was sitting on the deck, his back to Will. Walking through the house, Will stopped in the kitchen to grab a beer for both of them before opening the glass sliding door and heading outside.

Benny heard the door slide open and turned around, “Heeey! How’d it go?”

Will saw Benny’s notebook, various doodles doting the pages in front of him. “Uh, g-good I think. Where’s Pope?“

“He’s not back? He wasn’t here when I got home but I figured he went for a walk or something. Maybe Fish came and got him. So what’d you and Katie talk about? Was the food cold?”

“I took an insulated bag dickhead, so the food was fine,” he gave his brother a side eye while he took a sip of his beer. “She has some projects. Oh, can you text Connor – she needs help building some furniture and said she was going to have him do it for her. I offered we could help him.”

“Well, aren’t you so nice Mr. Boy Scout? And what if I were busy?”

“You aren’t, and you’re helping me.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he took another sip.

Benny chuckled as Will smirked. “Ok man, I’ll get with Connor. You thinking of asking her out on a date or are you just going to stick to the manual labor?”

“I’m thinking about it … of asking her out. I don’t know. I don’t wanna fuck it up you know? Like I don’t want to just hook up with her and then make things awkward. Everyone around here is so connected…”

“Ok! You’re getting a little ahead of yourself. I’m asking if you’re thinking of taking her to dinner, not propose. You guys can be friends…” Benny smirked. “Who maybe get a little more than friendly.”

Will rolled his eyes, “Now you’re the one getting ahead of yourself.”

“Dude, you’re wound so fucking tight I can tell you got blue balled.” Benny knew Will better than he knew himself. Despite his calm exterior, Benny could tell his brother was a bit on edge.

“I gotta go call Joel. Her porch looks like it’s gonna need some work,” Will said as he turned around to head inside.

“Sure you aren’t going to go take care of your little friend there?” Benny called out as Will reached for the door.

“Um, it’s not little, asshole,” Will smirked as he finally closed the door behind him.

_________________

Knock.

Katie just finished slicing some cheese and arranging it on a platter with some crackers, fruit, and hummus when she heard the front door. She padded over to open it, seeing Megan bearing a couple of bottles of wine.

“I’m here and ready to hear you spill it!” Megan crossed the threshold and thrust a bottle of red wine into Katie’s hands as she walked over to the kitchen.

Katie watched Megan walk away and then studied the bottle in her hands.

“Chile, huh? This is a new country for you.”

“Yea, the guy at the ABC store told me it was popular and worth a try so I thought fuck it why not?”

Katie fumbled through her junk drawer to find a bottle opener and got to uncorking the bottle.

Pop.

“OK, come on,” Megan whined. “I’ve been waiting all day. What happened!”

Katie poured their glasses before handing them to Megan so she could carry the tray of snacks to the living room.

“Well, honestly, your imagination is probably filling in a lot more than what actually happened.”

“Ok, well you said you guys made out. If you had sex, I feel like you would have said that.”

“True. Yeah, honestly it was just making out. He touched my boob at one point but I put a stop to it."

“Booo. Why?” Megan rolled her eyes as she grabbed a piece of cheese and nibbled on it.

“Cuz, I had to get back to work Meg!"

"Ugh, well…how was it?"

"Honestly? It was pretty good," Katie blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind her head. "He's a really good kisser."

"Did he show you anything else he was good at?" Megan winked.

Katie threw a pillow at her friend and the two giggled. "Gosh Megan, he's like super hot right?"

"Um yea, I’ve been trying to tell you. I know he’s not your usual type but you guys look super cute together."

"Whoa whoa let's not get ahead of ourselves now."

"Did you make plans to see him again?"

"No, I guess nothing concrete. I did tell him I wanted to “revisit” things later,” Katie winked.

“Ok, I see you! Well, you’ll no doubt see him again soon. I’m sure he’s going to ask you out, I’ll ask Benny,” Megan smirked.

“Oh my goodness, Meg, please don’t embarrass me!” Katie threw her head into her hands.

“Oh stop it. And please, humor me, I’m living vicariously through you and I’m super excited for you to get some!”

“I’ll admit, it’s kinda nice to flirt with someone. It’s been so fucking long,” she chuckled. “Well, cheers to your steamy makeout and hopefully seeing more of what Will’s working with in the very near future!”

Previous Chapter

A/N: I was a little intimidated to write Will. I’ve been so squarely focused on Frankie (with Benny coming in very close second), that I haven’t really ever read any Will-centric fics. I hope I can do him justice with his story.

Let me know if you want to be on the tag list moving forward!! Apologies if I accidentally left you off, I added it all manually and may have missed someone … just let me know!

@goodwithcheese / @gemmahale / @trulybetty / @patti7dc / @periodtsparadox / @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin / @maggiemayhemnj / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @avastrasposts / @meveispunk / @chaoticfestninja / @beholdbebravethings / @casa-boiardi / @katw474 / @linzels-blog / @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain / @primosworld / @lynnchun / @anoverwhelmingdin /@lilmizmoz / @pedrit0-pascalit0 / @titlee78 / @noisynightmarepoetry / @inept-the-magnificent / @perennialdoll247 / @for-a-longlongtime / @readingiskeepingmegoing / @harriedandharrassed / @musings-of-a-rose / @anavatazes / @sherala007 / @midnightraain / @partyofone3413

#delta landscaping #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier boys #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier

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apompkwrites · 2 years

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one of the asims || kalim al-asim

masterlist characters: kalim (platonic) genre: angst contains: lots of reminiscing, reader blames themselves, replaced au vibes? summary: the asim family houses 32 children. how do the parents handle all of them? they don't. notes: ah another sibling down. kinda inspired by replaced aus i guess? parts: [og post] | [one of the asims (1)] | [threats against the asims (2)]

you truly loved your family. instead of the stereotypical harsh royal family archetype, they were the exact opposite. they were supportive and loving and caring.

to a certain degree.

see, living with 31 other siblings makes it inevitable that your parents' attention would be spread too thin. they often doted more on the oldest and youngest kids, tending to the heir of the asim name as well as hovering over the little toddlers that still crawled along the carpeted floors.

you learned fairly quickly that you and the rest of your middle siblings were destined to be overlooked.

you remembered being in your younger siblings' place at one point in your life. it was one of the memories you held close to your heart because it reminded you of the love you have been deprived of.

the love you felt when your mother cradled you in her arms, her soft voice whispering in your ear words of adoration and warmth.

the love you felt when your father would throw you in the air and catch you as you fell, your giggles filling the air as you cheered "higher! higher!"

oh, how you missed those days.

now you watched as your younger siblings took your place. your younger brother coddled in your mother's arms and your younger sister's laughs echoed in the halls. and you were left on the sidelines, remembering the golden days when your family showed their love and affection.

you did take solace in the fact that you weren't alone. many of your other siblings felt the same way. it wasn't uncommon for a few of your younger siblings to come barreling into your room with their blankets and pillows dragging behind them, their eyes droopy as they whined out your name.

"big sib..." they would cry in the late hours of the night, crawling onto your bed without you saying as much as a word. "can't... sleep..."

"c'mere," you'd finally murmur, opening up your arms and beckoning them closer. without fail, their eyes would light up and they would scurry onto your bed, curling up in your arms with their blankets and pillows nearly suffocating you. but you never minded.

you couldn't do what they did anymore. you couldn't be on the receiving end of late night comfort simply because you got older. you couldn't go up to your older siblings anymore and crawl into their beds. and you wished you could.

but, whether or not you could find love and affection in your siblings, it couldn't replace that love and affection your parents gave you when you were young.

your favorite sibling to go to used to be kalim. you missed the late nights when you would sneak into his room and the two of you would sneak out into the gardens. you missed the late nights when he would swoop you off the ground onto one of your parents' magic carpet, his laughs interrupting his occasional shushes for you to quiet down.

now you could only watch as he did the same with your younger siblings, their giggles echoing throughout the night and kalim's laughs intertwining with them. it was a bittersweet feeling, watching as their silhouettes were outlined by the moon and you were left stranded on the earth.

at one point, the only thought you had was how cruel they were. how cruel your parents were for giving birth to more children, leaving the others behind in the dust. how cruel your eldest brother was for leaving you behind yet still making time for the youngest children. and you spent your days wallowing in your sorrow and hatred, cursing your family name.

until you just. stopped.

it wasn't your family's fault, you very quickly realized. they were just overwhelmed. but if it wasn't their fault...

whose fault was it?

whose fault was it for your isolation? whose fault was it that all of your efforts went unnoticed? whose fault was it for your new outlook on life? whose fault was it that you very quickly realized, no matter what you did, it was all useless?

was it... yours?

taglist: @brokenncrown @help-meplz @destinationdesignation @rainys-personal-garden @kalims @sxftiebee @luxaryllis @auld-a @the-dumber-scaramouche

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland angst #twst angst #twisted wonderland kalim #twisted wonderland kalim x reader #twst kalim #twst kalim x reader #kalim x reader #twisted wonderland kalim al asim #twisted wonderland kalim al asim x reader #twst kalim al asim #twst kalim al asim x reader #kalim al asim x reader #black sheep

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karahalloway · 7 months

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(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 15 - Not Without Obligation

Fandom: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Harper gets a surprise visit from Christian... but are his intentions sincere?

Word Count: 2,800 (short for me, I know enjoy it while you can 😆)

Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, angst, possible ulterior motives)

Chapter theme song:

A/N: I know it's been more than a hot minute since I've updated this series! 😅 This is in part because I got sidetracked by Sleepless in New York also on my list to finish, I know, and then I took most of the summer off from writing. But also in part because I kinda got stuck on how to actually continue with this series... but, I now have a plan! *rubs hands together gleefully* and you ain't gonna like it, sorry, not sorry. So, with this long-awaited installment, I hope to be back in my usual groove and will be posting with some semblance of regularity again. Thanks so much for bearing with me!

A/N2: This is also my submission for @choicesseptemberchallenge2023 Day 25 Prompt - Secret, Surprise I’m only 2 days late

Chapter 15 - Not Without Obligation

Making my way back to my room, I try to push down the conflicting emotions that are roiling inside of me.

On one hand, I get where Drake is coming from, and why he shut the door in my face. We are no longer alone in Applewood and even the faintest whiff of impropriety could implode the carefully strategised work that the royal PR team has put in to try and resuscitate my public image.

And me getting caught outside of the room of a guy who not only is not Christian, but who I have no justifiable reason for seeking out at the butt-crack of dawn in the first place, would definitely scupper the assertion that I'm not a two-timing hussy. Especially since I rushed out of my room earlier wearing nothing more than a t-shirt and panties.

Mitigating factors, they are not.

But while the rational part of my brain knows that Drake is only trying to look out for me, I can't help but feel a pang of dejection at the abruptness with which he — very literally — shut me out, even though he promised yesterday that he wouldn't do something like that to me again.

Because God knows that it had been hard enough to get him to open up the first time!

And even though I'm not expecting him to have completely reversed his habitudes overnight, I guess I'd been hoping that our conversation in the barn would've prompted some kind of step in the desired direction.

Because it's clear that the bruises on my neck unnerved him. The turmoil on his face had made that clear. As the marks are not just some haphazard side-effect of our frantic love-making. They are a very real and visible reminder of the tangible strength of his feelings — and the fact that he lost control of them.

And as much as I understand the knee-jerk cause of his reaction, the last thing I want — or need — right now is for Drake to distance himself from me because he's scared of hurting me again.

That, I could not cope with.

"Demoiselle," nods Allard as I arrive back at my room.

I flash him a distracted smile on auto-pilot. He saw and heard what happened. There is no point rehashing anything. Especially since this isn't something he or Schweitzer can help with.

The weight of my Guard's concerned gaze flick over me as I shuffle past, but they both remain silent, no doubt sensing that I'm not in the mood for conversation.

Shutting the door behind me, I close my eyes as I lean back against the solidness of the wood.

Why are things never simple 'round here?

I really wish Drake and I could've taken a moment to talk things through. Because today's Apple Harvest Festival is expected to see hundreds of people descend onto Applewood to not only celebrate this year's bountiful crop of Cordonian Rubies, but to also catch a glimpse of the new King and his future Queen.

And if I thought that cornering Drake at the apple pick had been hard, the chances of being able to do so today are going to be slim to none.

But the rest of the week doesn't offer any better options because tomorrow we're off to Italy, where we'll likely have even less opportunity for privacy given the high-profile and international nature of the coming engagements.

My eyes snap open. I have to talk to him now.

As much as Drake may be concerned about protecting what's left of my image, I'm not going to let him use the inconvenience of our circumstances as an excuse to hide behind his insecurities or erect walls between us. Because the hard truth is that there's never going to be a good time to talk unless we make time.

Which is exactly what I am going to do, possible scandal be damned. I cannot let a tenuous fear borne out of a possible public backlash hold me back. My relationship with Drake is worth infinitely more to me than whatever garbage the paps may decide to print because some aristo decided to tattle on me if I get caught sneaking back into his room.

Because, let's face it. Even if I do end up on the front pages tomorrow (for all the wrong reasons), the fact of the matter is that any photo, any situation — no matter how sordid or innocent — can be spun any which way.

I've learnt that the hard way. So, I may as well use it to my own advantage for once.

Pushing myself away from the door, I march into my walk-in closet with renewed determination. Pulling the t-shirt that I'd slept in over my head, I quickly throw on a bra, some jean shorts and a black tank top.

Slotting my bare feet into my well-worn Sketchers, I make my way over to the French doors that lead out onto balcony so I can try to figure out the best way to scamper over to Drake's room without killing myself, given that I stand a better chance of slipping under the aristo's nosy radar via the balcony than going back through the corridor.

Hopefully, I can—

Tap, tap tap.

I stop mid-stride at the sound of knocking coming from the other side of my door.

Turning around, I contemplate whether I should respond, or pretend that I hadn't heard.

I have precious little time if I want to catch Drake before he disappears on me to do... whatever it is that he does in the mornings before the start of a royal event.

So, if I want to make it to his room, I need to go now before he finishes getting dressed.

But, then again, there is only a very small number of people at court who'd come directly to my room to talk to me. Especially at this time in the morning.

So, it could be important. It could be about Tariq...

...it could be Drake.

The latch clicks open.

I glance anxiously back towards the balcony, trying to decide if I should—

"May I come in?"

I whirl around in surprise at the sound of the unexpected voice. "Christian!"

He pokes his head 'round the door. "I... I didn't catch you in a state of undress, did I?"

"No! No... I was already dressed," I admit, trying to be as casual as possible as I quickly brush my hair over my shoulders in a haphazard attempt to try and cover up the bruises, given that I hadn't thought to slather any cover-up over myself yet.

Christian definitely doesn’t need to be asking questions about those!

"Ah, good!" he responds, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him. "You're an early riser, like myself."

"You can thank the Beaumonts," I mutter under my breath, glancing guiltily back toward the balcony.

So much for stealing a much-needed moment with Drake...

"I apologise for the intrusion," Christian continues, crossing the space between us, "especially at such an early hour. But I was hoping to catch you alone before the start of the Apple Harvest Festival."

One word catches my attention. "A-Alone...?"

He comes to a stop in front of me. "Very much so."

Anxiety flares in the pit of my stomach as Drake's words from yesterday swirl through my mind.

...he's trying to win you back.

And it suddenly hits me that I haven't been alone — truly alone — with Christian since the day of the Jamboree. When he took me into the hedge maze and offered me a duchy.

My mind starts to whirl.

Had that been the start of this... crusade? The fact that I turned him down? Does he still think he can change my mind? Is he simply incapable of accepting 'no' as an answer?

I force my gaze up to meet his.

His emerald green eyes behold me calmly, with maybe a hint of excitement. But I cannot read his intention.

"Wh-why?" I finally blurt out.

A smile spreads across his face. "To bestow upon you your letters patent, of course!"

I gape at him. "My letters of what?"

He chuckles good-naturedly at my evident confusion. "Letters patent. Itis a type of royal decree that formally confers some manner of privilege onto the names designee — an office of state, a coat of arms, a commercial monopoly... or, in this case, your new title as Duchess of Valtoria."

With a flourish, he pulls out a small, leather-bound box that he's been hiding behind his back.

I stare at it mutely.

"It won't bite, I promise," he assures me wryly.

Reaching up with a tepid smile, I accept the box, which is a lot heavier than it looks.

Opening it up, I find a medieval-looking document nestled in the lid, complete with densely-packed Chancery script and and a historiated initial C embossed with the stylised image of the Cordonian royal crest.

Peering at the text — which I can only assume is an archaic form of French — I can just about make out the odd word, like my name, Christian's name, and Valtoria. But the rest remains completely incomprehensible.

Presumably some grand declarations about the bestowal...

In the bottom part of the box rests a cream-coloured envelope also bearing the Cordonian royal crest, along with my name, though this time written in delicate cursive lettering.

"What's this?" I ask Christian, lifting the letter up.

"Your papers of naturalisation," he informs me. "Along with your new passport and ID card."

I glance up at him in surprise. "I am now a Cordonian citizen?"

"It would not have been possible to issue the letters patent otherwise," he says. "Even a king must abide by the diktats of the law."

"I... don't need to sign anything?"

"The US Consulate was very accommodating, given the unique nature of the circumstances."

My stomach twists unexpectedly. "Oh..."

Dual citizenship is a good thing, right?

Returning my attention to the box, I see that the envelope has been concealing a large, intricate-looking seal bearing what appears to be the stylised outline of a rampant phoenix, next to which sits a signet ring with the same image.

"Does it meet expectations?" asks Christian.

"I'm not sure I know what I'd been expecting..." I admit, running a finger over the lines of the mythical bird, marvelling at the level of detail that's been put into creating such a realistic rendering, complete with individual licks of flame spouting from the tail feathers.

"Any egregious spelling errors?"

"Not that I can see," I admit, glancing up at him. "But—"

"Excellent!" he declares, reaching over the lid of the box to deftly pluck the signet ring out from its nest of blue silk.

Before I have a chance to react, he's clasped my hand in his to poise the heavy circlet of gold at the tip of my ring finger.

"Wait!" I gasp in the face of the unexpectedly intimate turn of events. "What are you—?"

"It would be remiss of me if I did not verify the correctness of the sizing," he advises, meeting my panicked gaze calmly.

"You don't need t—"

"It would be my pleasure," he insists, slipping the ring onto the digit before I can protest further.

As he withdraws his hand, my eyes fall onto the spot where the cool metal's unfamiliar weight now encircles the base of my finger.

"Perfect," Christian declares with a satisfied smile, brushing his thumb over the phoenix insignia.

I stare at the band with an uneasily mix of feelings swirling in my chest. "Christian, I—"

"Let's celebrate, shall we?" he announces, pulling back to click his fingers with a decisive snap.

On cue, the door behind Christian swings open to admit a veritable procession of servants bearing ice buckets, champagne, crystal flutes and tiny servings of finger food.

"Wait..." I stammer in the face of organised onslaught. "They were waiting outside this whole time?"

"I may have take a page out of your party planning book," he admits with a grin while the industrious staff set about transforming my bedroom into a first-class tea room. "Seeing the success you had with Drake on his birthday, I thought I would try my hand at surprising you on this important day."

"And that's great, but I never agreed—"

"Didn't you?" Christian asks with a level look as he nabs a miniature scone from the tray of a passing server.

I shake my head. "No, I—"

"Because I specifically recall you giving your unambiguous consent at yesterday's apple pick to proceed with finalising your new status," he states, taking a bite out of the pastry.

I open my mouth, but promptly shut it as the conversation from the orchard floats back into my consciousness.

"...having the paperwork squared away before our departure would grant significant boon for your image."

"Oh. Okay..."

"Oh, fuck..." I mutter as the cold hand of hindsight clamps down on the nape of my neck.

Christian had obviously mischaracterised my somewhat dazed reaction as some kind of explicit affirmation.

And since Drake's appearance yesterday had interrupted the conversation at that key moment, I never had a chance to correct the misunderstanding.

But I need to. Because once again, Christian has taken matters into his own hands and acted without my my prior agreement or approval t. Just like he had done when he decided to send me away during the Coronation Ball, only to then bring me back to court as his mistress, not to mention spring an actual duchy on me without any warning.

And while his heart's probably been in the right place each and every time, I'm not sure that I can cope with any more bolts from the blue.

Especially when they so drastically upend my life.

Heaving a breath, I look back up at the King of Cordonia again. "Look, Christian, I really appreciate all of this, but I think there's been a major—"

The loud bang! of the champagne bottle shooting its cork across the room makes me jump.

Turning around, I can see that the gold-coloured liquid is already in the process of being dispensed into a pair of waiting crystal flutes.

"I hope you like this Moët & Chandon Imperial Vintage 1946 that I had picked out," Christian murmurs, brushing a hand over the small of my back. "It is an exceptional cuvée with notes of citrus, apple and pear — an apt combination, I thought, given the occasion."

"Because of the pear trees in Valtoria..." I surmise heavily, watching a footman bring over a pair of freshly-filled champagne flutes with a foreboding note of finality.

"Exactly," confirms Christian, grabbing a glass from the tray. "A beautifully complimentary pairing. One that hope we can both enjoy for many years to come."

"Yes, but—"

"Let's toast, shall we?" prompts Christian, cutting me off yet again as the footman proffers me the other serving of expensive bubbly.

I stare at it like a poison pill.

This is what Drake had warned me about, isn't it? That Christian would seek to manoeuvre me into a corner like a chess piece... By giving with one hand, only to take with the other when the time came for the chips to fall due. Because what better way to create an unimpeachable sense of obligation than by making me into a duchess? A literal vassal to the Crown? Required to do the King's bidding, no matter the cost?

And if that really is his aim, then he has certainly been succeeding.

But at the same time, I am not sure I can trust my assessment. Christian has given no indication, one way or another, as to where his goals lay. And even if the misunderstanding had been genuine, to turn him down now would not only be inexplicably rude, but maybe also dangerous?

Would I be jeopardising Christian's support in the hunt for Tariq and my quest to set the record straight if I offend him by throwing all his heartfelt effort back in his face? Especially when I don't know for certain what Christian's motives are?

Because what if Drake is wrong? What if there is no hidden agenda and I'm just massively overthinking this entire thing because I've been burned once already and now everyone looks suspect... Even — and especially — when I'm being offered help?

"Harper?" queries Christian. "Everything alright?"

I shake myself out of my stupor and grab the crystal flute. "I'm fine. Just... Trying to come to grips with it all."

"There will be plenty of time for that," he assures me with a grin, raising his glass. "To the new Duchess of Valtoria!"

I clink the delicate crystal in my hand against his with a leaden feeling in my stomach.

There's no going back now...

For better or for worse, I have just become an aristo.

The story continues in Chapter 16 - Snakes in the Garden

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