#royal roulette

[txemrn]

Keep Your Head Up

Book: TRR/TRH Post-series

Word count: ~2325

Song Inspo: "Keep Your Head Up, Princess" - Anson Seabra

Warning: fairly fluffy (no one dies!); tiny sprinkles of angst, mentions of bullying

A/N: I am participating in week 21 of @choicesflashfics prompt challenge! I chose prompt #2: "I look at you and my heart breaks because all I see is loneliness.” The prompt will be in bold.

A/N 2: Most of the characters and some of the plot points belong to our friends at Pixelberry. Please excuse my errors! Also, if you are curious about Royal Roulette: it's a fun little challenge you can do anytime for yourself! Take your music and hit mix! Take the first song that pops up, and use it as a muse for a fic! No need to credit me, but do tag me if you do it because I LOVE reading other RR!

~🖤~

"Where is she?" Liam grits his teeth, frantically glancing around the ballroom before turning back to his head guards. A strangled-growl drips from his words, a crimson hue coating his vision. "Can anyone tell me where the hell she went?"

Not waiting for an answer, he pushes open the heavy, ornate double doors to exit the ballroom before bounding down the side corridor that leads to the grand staircase.  Each step he takes becomes quicker, angrier, and despite being in full regalia, his walk becomes a run. Once he reaches the living quarters of the palace, he takes the stairs two at a time until he reaches her room. And he knocks softly.

When she doesn't answer, he raps against the polished wood once more. "Love?" But again, she doesn't answer.

He sighs, his jaw ticking, knowing that he needs to speak with her. To hug her. To hold her. 

To tell her that he loves her.

He turns the doorknob, inviting himself into her room; but upon entry, he notices the darkened room is empty. Her bed is still made, her belongings untouched.

He lets out a heavy sigh, turning on his heel to search elsewhere– that is until he hears the soft rustle of taffeta from the large, oak wardrobe on the far end of the room.

A smirk grows across his face as he saunters to the closet. Of course, she would pick this as her hiding place.  Her favorite book was The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe from C. S. Lewis's The Chronicles of Narnia. Staying quiet, he cautiously approaches, leaning in closely, just to verify he heard correctly.

And suddenly, a breath hitches as a quiet, almost inaudible sob continues.

And the fibers of his heart begin to splinter, shattering into a million shards on the ground.

He thought he could protect her and shield her from the snide comments and hateful glares. The judgment from the public was bad enough, but the turned up noses and undercut statements made by nobles could be relentless. Seeing her bright light and contagious laughter stolen at the ruthless words of bullies seeped a new level of sadness into his heart.

He gently taps on the door of the wardrobe. And instantly, the movement stops, retreating back into hiding. "It's me," he softly whispers, "Daddy."

After a brief, silent pause, the hatch unlocks, the door swinging open to reveal six-year-old Eleanor tucked in the corner underneath her winter coats. Her pink ball gown is scrunched up around her body as she hugs her knees, her trusty stuffed lion Fabian under her arm for cuddles. Her freckled, cherub face is swollen and blotchy, wet from her tears. Her hair remains in a blonde French braid with pink jeweled barrettes, fixed by her mother for the evening.

"Eleanor?" Liam quietly crawls onto the floor, pulling his ankle under his knee to crisscross his long legs. He takes a deep breath, his crystal gaze matching hers as she coyly watches him like a frightened animal. "What's wrong, Squirt?"

A large tear slopes down her nose as she tucks her head lower into her arms. She remains silent.

Liam gently clears his throat. "Why aren't you down at the Baron's ball?" Again, the young princess remains quiet except for her rhythmic sniffles. 

He turns his attention to her feet, noticing her beloved pair of black Converse high tops. And he can't help but smile. Gosh, he loves his girl. 

Eleanor has always marched to the beat of her own drum. She showed interest in so many different things, playing with both dolls and toy cars, eager to play soccer and climb trees while also hosting tea parties and playing in her mom's makeup. She was rough and tumble, but loved glitz and glam. She wasn't too fond of wearing heavy, itchy ball gowns, but when Riley suggested she wear her Chuck Taylors like a comfort item, their daughter couldn't wait for the next royal function.

That event was tonight.

"Princess," he sighs, "I look at you and it breaks my heart because all I see is loneliness.  I want to make whatever this is better, but I can't unless you talk to me." When she doesn't budge, Liam glances back to her high-tops, and remembers she was debuting them tonight. He taps on them. "Did you show your friends your cool sneakers?"

Eleanor looks up with a scowl before putting her head back down. "They're not cool," she cries.

Liam's eyebrows furrow with curiosity. "What do you mean they're not cool?" He reaches over and grabs her foot, playfully inspecting the shoe. "These look pretty cool to me, but then again–" he tickles her knee, "--I think the person wearing them makes them the coolest shoe ever."

Eleanor looks up with a pitiful smile, wiping at her face with her arm. Her brilliant blue eyes match her father's, more ablaze from being red with irritation. She quickly climbs out of her corner, and reaches for her dad; but before her arms could reach him, he was already pulling her into his own embrace. She clings tightly to his neck as his large hands rub endearing circles on her back.

"They said they were stupid."

"What?" Liam looks down as his daughter readjusts to sit in his lap. "Who said your shoes were stupid?"

"The other girls," she holds out her feet, knocking the toes of her shoes together. "They said that real princesses don't wear boy shoes."

"And how would they know? You're the only princess in that ball." He boops her nose causing her face to scrunch with a genuine smile. "Uh, Squirt, where are your glasses?"

Her elation died at her dad's words. "I don't want to wear 'em, Daddy." 

Liam extends his arm into the wardrobe, pulling out the purple bifocals, holding them out in his hands. "Why not?"

"'Cause…" she fidgets with her skirt, "I'm not pretty with them on."

"Squirt," he places his finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. "It's impossible for you to not be pretty. In fact," he smooths out her dress before pushing back a gold wisp of hair. "You are the prettiest girl I know."

"Daddy," she bashfully singsongs.

"What?" He sits up a little taller. "I know these things. I am a king." He chuckles. "Now, about these glasses–"

"--I don't want to wear them."

"But they look so pretty on you, Eleanor," he unfolds the glasses, offering them to her. 

"They give me four eyes. And-and I don't want four eyes, Daddy! What if they turn into five… or six?" She drags her fingers down her cheeks.

Liam titters to himself. "Who told you glasses give you 'four eyes'?"

She crosses her arms. "Stupid boys."

"Eleanor," Liam warns, "you know we don't say words like that about others." 

She pouts harder, slumping in her father's lap. 

"Let me show you something," Liam points to her eyes. "You have one… two eyes right here, but you need glasses to help you see, right?" She nods. "These," he looks at the eyewear in his hands, "are like having another set of eyes. See?" He points to each lens, "three... Four."

"Oh!" A wave of understanding crawls across Eleanor’s face. "Four eyes!"

"Right," Liam snickers, placing an endearing hand around her back. "People say it to try to be rude, but honestly, all they're pointing out is that you wear glasses. That's it."

"Oh," Eleanor considers her father's words before continuing.  "But they said I was ugly in them. And I don't want to be ugly, Daddy."

"Hrmmm," Liam thoughtfully looks at her glasses, and then slips the small pair on his face. Clearly made for a child, the eyewear pinches tightly at his nose and across his temples. "Am I ugly?"

"No," Eleanor giggles, holding a hand over her mouth.

"But, I thought these glasses make people ugly–"

"Daddy!" She squeals, "you're being silly!"

Liam chuckles, hearing her laugh again. He takes off the glasses, cleaning them off against his shirt. "Eleanor, do you know why princesses wear crowns?"

"Because they're princesses," she answers proudly. "And crowns are pretty."

Liam reaches over to a wooden chest next to the wardrobe that is filled with costumes, play clothes and accessories. He pulls out a plastic, gold crown with bright pink jewels glued around the band. 

"Crowns," he continues, holding the toy crown in his hand, "help princesses keep their heads up."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yeah, huh!" Liam jovially retorts.  "See, some people can be very mean. And because you are a princess, you're an easy target for people to be mean. But do you know why they're mean?"

Eleanor innocently shakes her head, her attention glued to her father's words.

"They're mean because they're jealous."

"Jealous?"

"That's right," Liam nods. "You have something they don't have. It can be a pretty dress or a pretty smile," he pinches her cheek. "Sometimes it's simply because someone else hurt their feelings, and they want someone else to hurt, too. They're jealous of your happiness. They think that if they're mean, it will make them feel better."

Liam takes the toy crown and fixes it to her head. "Being part of the royal family means you have a lot more things, that you are given a lot more opportunities than people not born into nobility--which, you should never, ever be ashamed of. But we live our lives in the public eye, so people from around the world know how privileged we are."

Eleanor taps her finger on her lips, knitting her brows together. "So… they get jealous?"

"That's right, Squirt," his lips slowly curl. "They can." 

"But, Daddy? It… it still hurts my feelings."

"I know it does, baby," he pulls her in close to his chest, "I know it does. But just remember: those mean words are not true." Liam looks up at the gaudy crown on his daughter's head. "So, that's why princesses wear crowns. That's why you wear a crown, Squirt. It's there to remind you that when people say mean, untrue things about you, keep your head up. Don't listen to them. You don't want your crown to–"

There's a sudden thud on the ground.

"Oops!" Eleanor’s hands fly up over her mouth as she looks at the plastic crown that slipped off her head, crashing to the floor.

Liam rolls his eyes before offering a kind expression towards his daughter. "Come here, Squirt." He wraps his arms around her, placing tender kisses in her hairline.

"Daddy?" She slides on her glasses. "Is it too late to go back to the ball?"

"Ehh," Liam shakes his wrist, his watch turning for him to read. "It looks like the night is over."

"Aww rats," Eleanor deflates, "Uncle Maxwell was going to play Baby Shark for us to dance to."

"Well," Liam stops, glancing down at his daughter. "Do you still want to dance?"

Eleanor’s eyes light up as she eagerly nods her head. She grabs her father's finger, guiding him to an open area of the room. "What should we do for music?"

"I've got an idea." Liam bends over, holding out his hands, curling his fingers into a C-shape with his thumb. "Ba…by… shark! Do-do-do-do!"

Eleanor squeals, joining in with her father singing and doing the hand motions. They both dance around the room, creating their own dance party they both would never forget.

------

Baron's Ball 10 Years Later…

The rubber soles of her Converse high-tops tap hypnotically against the polished ballroom floor. She anxiously chews on her nails as she watches the other noble children laugh and dance amongst the parents.  

She had spent the better part of a day getting ready for the annual event: hair curled, pinned and hair-sprayed into place; make-up carefully fixed to the features of her classic beauty; her baby blue ball gown perfectly tailored to her budding womanly curves.  But even though she felt beautiful, she remained nervous of facing the other kids, and she knew she would probably be left alone, no one wanting to dance with her.

Life for Eleanor didn't get easier at royal functions. The bullying and backhanded comments continued over the years. It hurt, but the desire to hide and cry became weaker and weaker as she remembered her father's words so long ago.

Keep your head up…

"May I have this dance?"

Eleanor’s pedal pink lips curl into a bright smile as she turns towards the familiar baritone voice. "Daddy, you said you were going to stay in the–"

"And miss the chance to dance with my beautiful daughter?" He beams.

A soft blush crawls across her cheeks as she takes his hand, following his lead to the dance floor.  After a cordial bow, they begin to waltz, their feet gliding across the floor with ease.

"Thank you, Daddy."

"Oh, Squirt," he nervously titters, "someday you'll be queen, and these dances with you… well, they'll just be an old man's precious memory."

Eleanor scoffs. "I will always save a dance for you."

Liam laughs. "You might want to take that up with your husband. If he knows how much of treasure you are, he'll never let go–"

"Excuse me, your majesty?"

Liam and Eleanor stop at the timid voice, turning to see Bartie Beaumont mid-bow. 

"Son?" Liam gives a curious, yet humored glare.

"I was wondering, that is, if it's okay with you… oh! And if it's okay with your daughter… um…" clearly nervous, the young man takes a cleansing breath as he wipes his palms against his slacks. "May I have this dance?"

Liam turns to his daughter, noticing her eye's brightening by the moment with anticipation. And he smiles. He takes her hand, guiding her closer for Bartie to take it. As they begin to bow, Liam clears his throat, making both Bartie and Eleanor freeze.

"I'm watching you, Beaumont."

"Y-yes, sir," Bartie swallows thickly.

"Daddy," Eleanor growls.

Liam takes his cue and begins to walk away–that is, until he turns around again. "And leave some room in between–"

"Daddy!"

~🖤~

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

~🖤~

Tags (please let me know if you wish to be added/removed)

PERMA

@alj4890 @ao719 @charlotteg234 @issabees @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nikirennie87 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam

ALL TRR

@3pawandme @alyshak92 @iaminlovewithtrr @lovingchoices14 @malblk21 @rubiwalker @sfb123 @twinkleallnight

#the royal romance #the royal heir #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #choices trr #choices trh #royal roulette #choices flashfics #liam rys #king liam #princess eleanor #bartie beaumont #choices the royal romance #choices the royal heir

[sorikkunn]

RR Incorrect Quote #87

Bram: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?

Soraya: Several traffic violations

Elba: Probably about three counts of resisting arrest 

Frankie: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks! 

Soraya: And that is most definitely not our car 

#royal roulette #rr #bram baek #soraya vaziri #elba tamura #franklin stein #spy crew

[barrowsteeth]

YOUNG ROYALS + s1e2 timestamp roulette

for @purplewilmon

#young royals #youngroyalsedit #tvedit #barrowgifs #let's just pretend there's any type of color continuity m'kay? #timestamp roulette #gif requests

[year2000electronics]

(also a little extra gag)

#trolls #royal flush au #(hes the dealer from buckshot roulette now) #my art

[pochapal]

king of england being ushered out of the public limelight due to health problems and being visited by family behind closed doors.......i can't believe my kinzo jokes are gonna have the opportunity to be used twice in as many years

#:) #demon's roulette coming for old charlie...so long bozo #funniest timeline would be if each royal successor keeps dying two years after the previous until there's none left

[ships-to-sail]

Hooray hooray, its Sunday! Time for six more sentences (...ish) in which, this time, I'll let yall simply guess at what this is an actual AU of. Its not difficult, but what can I say. I'm easily entertained. (And to all yall that tagged me already today — bless you, you're the only thing helping me keep track of the days at all).

There are three minutes until the show and he isn’t coming. He isn’t coming, and there are three minutes until Alex has to be inside, standing next to Pez and Marco, snapping his fingers and singing about going prowling for chicks, while somewhere in the night the man who owns his heart is barreling down open roads, roads that don’t lead to — “Oh my God Alex, isn’t that him?!” June’s voice cuts through his building panic like a hot knife through butter, and his eyes follow her finger to the far east side of the parking lot where Alex can just make out a shadow cutting through the beams of headlights, weaving in and out of the waiting line of traffic.  In less than a second, Alex is off the top step and plowing down the entrance of the school until he’s on flat ground, his leather jacket heavy on his shoulders in the lingering heat of the April day. He can hear him now, the rumble of the motorcycle snaking up through the bottom of Alex’s feet as the bike comes to rest at the curb, squeezed between two cars, headlights throwing blinding slices of light off the chrome of the bike, off the metal details that dot the black leather jacket stretched across the rider’s shoulders.  “You came,” Alex says, his voice thin as he struggles to catch his breath after his sprint down the stairs.  Without a word, the figure on the bike nods. “Told you I would."

I'll leave my tags under the cut, but as is USUALLY the case, I'm late enough in the day that most of yall have already gotten yours up! If you haven't, nows the time — consider this your open tag!

@cheesecurdsgravyandfries @orchidscript @everwitch-magiks @happiness-of-the-pursuit @indomitable-love @celaestis1 @cricketnationrise @rmd-writes @inexplicablymine @welcometololaland @kiwiana-writes @clottedcreamfudge @lilythesilly @sparklepocalypse @nontoxic-writes @tintagel-or-cockleshells @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

#rwrb #red white & royal blue #six sentence sunday #AU roulette #its the leather jackets man

[chemicallywrit]

42

For @throwaninkpot, your podcast is the always excellent Alba Salix, Royal Physician! Alba Salix is a medical witch to the royals with too much to do and not enough time or patience to deal with...patients. She has a dumbass teen assistant who really wants to do surgery and a flighty fairie assistant who is...enthusiastic. It's light and good and I want it to come back desperately because season two left me on a cliffhanger, how could they do this.

Send me a number between 1-273 and I'll rec an audio drama!

#audio drama roulette #alba salix #alba salix royal physician

[asteralien]

really been struggling with finding good mindless queer audiobooks to distract myself with lately. today i started not one but two different poorly written fantasy romances where the main characters bone within 24 hours of meeting each other (one of them was literally 5 minutes after meeting). allos are wild

#am not against smut but y’all are so annoying. god bless #what if - and hear me out on this - we had a conversation first #also one of them is an arranged marriage thing and when the two royal families met for the wedding #it is revealed that the one family didn’t know which son the other family had picked out to marry theirs #king just showed up and did a bob barker reveal like ‘and you get our wimpy third son!!!’ and everyone got mad about it #you expect me to believe royal families don’t hash this out with royal counselors and lawyers??? #you want me to believe there weren’t thirteen layers of elven prenups involved in this treaty????? #sorry i can’t focus on this s*x scene I’m still thinking about the international implications of Fiancé Roulette these morons were playing #aster chat

[gameraboy2]

Casino Royale by Fay Dalton

#casino royale #fay dalton #painting #art #illustration #roulette #gambling #casino #007 #james bond

[innbetween]

83!

Go with me here: what if Hamlet was a romcom?

Those bold sonsaguns at Tandon Productions have asked this question, and answered it with His Royal Fakin' Highness, a ridiculous comic turn on the classic tragedy. It's shocking how little needs to be swapped to make this funny. Rosie and Gil (Rosencrantz and Guildenstern of course) are easily the best part.

Send me a number between 1 and 224 and I'll recommend an audio drama!

#his royal fakin' highness #AD roulette

[sheltiechicago]

Two planes of the Royal Australian Air Force Roulettes aerobatic team during the Australian International Airshow Aerospace and Defence Expo at Avalon Airport in Geelong.

Photograph: Paul Crock/AFP/Getty Images

#paul crock #photographer #afp via getty images #planes #royal australian air force roulettes aerobatic team #australian international airshow aerospace and defence expo #avalon airport #geelong #australia

[txemrn]

Wounded

Book: TRR/TRH Post-series

Pairing: Liam Rys x MC (Riley Brooks-Rys)

Word count: ~2500

Song Inspo: "Wounded" - Maddie Wilson

Warning: for mature audience only; the TW are the plot twists in this story; if you are not sure if you want to read this and/or you are a fairly sensitive reader (nothing wrong with that!), scroll to the very end of this post (right above the tags) for a more specific list of TW

A/N: I am SUPER pumped to be participating in week 9 of @choicesflashfics prompt challenge! I chose prompt #3: “I don’t know what I thought was going to happen, but this was definitely not it.” The prompt will be in bold.

A/N 2: Most of the characters and some of the plot points belong to our friends at Pixelberry; HUGE thanks to my dear friend (and birthday girl) @sfb123 for pre-reading this for me. Please excuse my errors! Also, if you are curious about Royal Roulette: it's a fun little challenge you can do anytime for yourself! Take your music and hit mix! Take the first song that pops up, and use it as a muse for a fic! No need to credit me, but do tag me if you do it because I LOVE reading other RR!

~🖤~

(Present)

It's just past 8PM, and I find myself in the tiled coffin of my personal sanctuary: my shower. The balmy steam hides the evidence of my swollen, tear-stained cheeks, my own words replaced by wails of mercy. The sweltering water stings across my porcelain skin, the unbearable discomfort distracting from the emptiness, the nothingness of my shattered, lifeless heart.

Today. Of all days, why today?

If only my body didn't complicate things... 

If only my body did what it was supposed to do…

If only my body did what I was crowned to do…

Liam and I have spent over six years testing every last inch of my body for an answer. The simple answer is polycystic ovarian syndrome… if only life were that simple…

------

(Yesterday)

"PCOS isn't what it used to be, though. There are so many women living with it–myself included!" Savannah takes another bite of cake, and I've never been more grateful in all my life for the reprieve from her voice. This is my fourth time hearing this speech about PCOS, and how the diagnosis is taken 'too seriously'. I mean, afterall, we are at her baby shower for Beaumont baby number two. And three. "They gave me the same talk, blah blah blah, percent this and that, and after taking Clomid for only two months," she smiles joyfully, massaging her rounded belly.

I fake a smile, shoveling some fruit salad in my mouth in hopes of keeping my sharp tongue quiet. I'm happy for her; I really am. .

But she's also never lost a baby. Or three.

Two months? 'Only' two months? God…

Liam and I have been prescribed every drug on the market to conceive; we've even tried more natural, holistic remedies, like crushed up superfoods and tree roots, tiny needles being stuck in my eyelids and in between my toes, religious relics and crystals

God, if you've never experienced humility before, the struggle with infertility will strip you bare of any pride left in your body, and after six different specialists, we finally resorted to my biggest–our biggest fear: in vitro fertilization.

But, IVF might actually be the answer to our infertility story.

As Savannah answers more intrusive pregnancy questions about her own body from our close family and friends, my mind disengages. Shielding the bright sun from my eyes, I look across the palace's heavily-decorated back lawn. Soft petal pink and pearl-colored balloons litter the divine scenery.  Signage that boasts kitschy baby phrases seem to be multiplying before my eyes. 

I feel a sudden shift in the atmosphere, one that is making me feel– I don't know… funny? I don't feel like myself. In fact, I'm starting to feel slightly ill.

An abrupt piercing shrill of pressure shoots through my temples as my breathing quickens. A trickle of sweat courses down my back as everything begins to spin wildly around me. The laughter of the group of women I'm with becomes sinister and terrifying.  

I need to get out of here…

"What an exquisite group of lovely ladies!"  

Leo Rys, my ever-charming, newly-divorced brother-in-law. He is well-trained in managing a crowd, but the heart-throb is a master at wooing a very specific demographic: women. 

Case in point. 

"Sav," he tenderly takes her hand in his, "you look absolutely radiant. Where is that foolish husband of yours, leaving your beautiful self alone–" he slows down his flirting rampage, and I instantly look up, making contact with those familiar Rys crystal-blue eyes. He mouths, 'Are you okay?' before taking out his phone, no doubt to text Liam. "'Scuse me, ladies," Leo nods with a forced, jubilant grin. 

With a skip in his step, my brother-in-law takes a knee while placing a tender touch on my clammy arm. "You're looking a little green there, sis," his lips curl softly as he pushes back my careless wisps.

"Kermit the Frog did warn us that it's not easy being green,'' I chuckle. The vibrations of my voice soothe my slightly queasy stomach. I relax further into my chair, fanning myself as I pull my oversize sunglasses over my eyes. "I'm fine," I grin cheekily, welcoming a sudden cool breeze over my skin.

His phone chimes. "Eh… negatory," he snickers under his breath, holding out his hand for me to take it. "The queen has been summoned to his majesty's presence." 

Damnit, what did he say to him?

"You better not be making my husband worry about me–"

"Someone needs to keep an eye on your bad self," Leo jokingly winks. "C'mon."

And maybe it was a good thing for me to get away from those women, to get away from this party and out of the sun. I do have a lot on my mind as well–too much actually. Enough to make anyone unwell. 

I hate exiting groups earlier than expected.  I just… I just know the inevitable will happen when I leave: they will talk about Liam and me. Worse, they will look at us as if… as if we're wounded.

Gone are the days of hailing us as the 'it' couple… 

Gone are the days of discussing our bright future…

Gosh, I really don't feel all too well as I stand up with Leo's assistance, but we make it inside the palace to a secluded sunroom. Bracing myself, I ease into a lounge chair while Leo helps me prop up my feet.

He really is a kind man, much like Liam. I hope he knows how much his return to Cordonia has meant to us as a family, especially his brother. Sure, we have staff that can help us with the countless doctor's appointments and emergency trips to the hospital, but these are intimate times that should be spent with family. And I'm glad it's with Leo.

"Are you okay, love?"  Liam appears at the opposite end of the quarters. Worry is etched across his face as he slowly saunters to my side. "I got here as soon as I–"

I wave my hands in the air. "I'm fine, babe. I think I just got a little overheated," I playfully roll my eyes. 

He lets out a slow exhale, wiping the perspiration off of my forehead. "You know better–"

"I know, I know," I raise my hands in surrender as he kisses my head. He's always watching me closely, so carefully, especially with so many hormones pumping through my veins.

"I'll leave you two alone," Leo clicks his tongue as he casually shoves his fists into his khaki shorts. "Text me."

Liam stops him, leaning in closely to whisper, "Grab us some seltzers please. And crackers." Leo nods as Liam makes himself comfortable next to me. 

I sit up, adjusting the pillows around my husband before I quickly find the crook of his arm. My crook. By the time I am settled, my gaze is happily met by his.

God, I love him. 

Even after all of this time, he still looks at me like I'm the only woman in the room. He doesn't see my shortcomings as a wife or as a queen. He sees me… and still loves me. 

I study his face, counting the fine lines around his eyes. He's beautiful, but this has taken quite the toll on us, aging us both. I reach up to caress the perfectly smooth skin of his jaw, my thumb tracing over his dry lips.

He pulls my hand from his face, peppering the inside of my wrist with sweet kisses. He finally rests my palm on his chest, weaving his finger through mine. 

I hate that it takes loss to make us appreciate life more, but watching each rise and fall of our hands reminds me that right now, in this moment, we have each other. And each heartbeat, each breath is to be cherished.

Suddenly, we hear a voice clear behind us. "Are you not well, your majesty?"  Gretchen, our part-time nurse, carries a tray of snacks and seltzers into the sunroom.

"Oh, Ms. Gretchen," I quickly wipe away my tears, brightening to her approach. "We're fine." 

She is an older woman who actually helped care for Liam's mother in her pregnancies, and also for his father in the end. Liam trusts her, and he thought hiring her would be immensely helpful to us right now. 

And he was right; she's been a perfect angel. I don't know what I would've done without her help.

"Leo told me what happened." She pulls up an end table, setting the wooden tray down. "It’s too early for your medicine, but I figured some refreshing snacks might be in order."

"Mmmm," I hum with approval as Liam helps me sit up. "This looks absolutely perfect. Thank you."

Gretchen kindly bows before excusing herself.

I grab a piece of toast, spreading some fresh apple-butter on top. "Have you eaten today?" I pass him a ginger ale as I take a sip of my drink. 

I abruptly stop fumbling with the tray when I feel his steely-stare boring holes into me. I glance once, then twice as I watch a large Cheshire grin crawl across his mouth.

"What?" I chuckle as I take a bite of my toast. "You have trouble written all over that face."

He wiggles his eyebrows as he pulls me safely back into his arms, our lips instantly meeting. His tongue swipes eagerly in my mouth. "Baby!" I squeal, pushing back from him as I wipe the corners of my mouth.

He snickers, swiping his thumb across his lips before sucking on it. "Mmmm," he quietly moans, "just what I thought."  I raise my eyebrows in curiosity. "That's the best damn apple-butter I've ever tasted." He tenderly squeezes my bottom as I claim his lips again. And again.

I love this man.

I rest my head back on his chest, listening to the deep thrumming of his heart. My home. We lay in perfect silence, watching the shadows shift throughout the afternoon glow.

But as the sun sinks lower into the earth, I feel my body cling tighter to Liam.

"What are you thinking?" he whispers gravelly.

Damn him. He knows me too well. I reposition myself, sitting up on my side. My eyes begin to sting as tears threaten to fall.  I grip his shirt as his fingertips lightly trace the freckles on the back of my arm.

"About tomorrow," I quietly exhale.

"The doctor's appointment?" He drops his hands to my lower abdomen, giving it a hopeful caress.

Overwhelmed with emotion, I can only nod my head, my breath hitching in my chest as I nuzzle into his shoulder.  

Damnit, why us? 

"Riley," he croons, enveloping his arms around me. His fingertips become lost in my waves as his lips press intimately against the shell of my ear.

"I–I'm so scared, baby," I whisper, my voice rattled with hoarseness as I wrap my arms around him.

"Shhh," he pulls me closer.  He gently rocks my body, a hand tracing soft figure-eights across me back. "Me too."

------

It's early. Liam and I sit in the doctor's office, waiting for her to return with our test results so we can form the next plan of action for our family. 

I've been sick most of the morning, my nerves getting the best of me. But Liam remains steadfast, my rock. He's been reassuring me all morning, wiping my anxious tears away. He refuses to let go of my hand. 

A child needs a father like him; this can't be the end of our journey. It… it just can't be.

We hear a click, and Dr. Nguyen walks into the room with a thick file folder. I can't read her as she takes a seat, but suddenly, I see my husband's knee begin to anxiously bounce.

She finally makes eye contact with us, revealing her swollen, red eyes as if she's been crying for days. She clears her throat, dabbing at her cheeks. "Your majesties, I–" she stops to gain control of herself. “I don’t know what I thought was going to happen, but this was definitely not it.”

Her voice trails off as a subtle ringing forms in my ears, and suddenly, everything seems to be moving in slow motion. Liam let's go of my hand; he rests his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands.

I take a deep breath, shaking my head. What just happened? I've missed something. I frantically look between my husband and his oncologist. "I–I'm sorry. What?"

"I'm sorry, your majesty," she swallows back the lump in her throat having to deliver the news again. "The cancer? It–it didn't respond to the treatment. And from his scan last week, there are new spots on his kidneys, liver and lungs."

I blink a couple of times, feeling as though I don't know what all of this means. Because it can't possibly mean what I think she is saying.

He's not dying. He can't be dying…

"So," I swallow thickly, "you have a plan. Right?"

"Well," the physician folds her hands on the desk. "We… can… make him as comfortable as possible–"

"I'm sorry," I interrupt. "Are you–are you saying that my husband...?" I pause as I gasp for a morsel of air. "The love of my life is, that he... he's–?" I clamp my hand over my mouth. No, I can't-- I refuse to say it.

But through the blur of my tears, I see the truth.

She’s nodding.

------

(Present)

"Riley?"

I break from my thoughts as I turn towards the deep voice. There at the entrance to the shower towers the most handsome man I have ever seen… or will ever see. His golden curls have been gone for months; he and his best friends shaved their heads when he first started chemotherapy a year ago. His shoulders are still broad, but with his colon resection and loss of appetite, he's thinned out quite a bit.

He is weaker; his skin has weathered.  But he's still my Liam. Even in all of this, he remains my North Star, my hope and my strength.

Which is why I can't get out of the shower. Not yet.

He flashes me a crooked smile, handing me a towel. "C'mon, love," he turns off the shower.

I carefully stand up, wrapping the towel around my damp body.  Liam extends his large hand towards me, my petite grip finding his palm. He leads me out of the shower and twirls me into an embrace, my back against his chest.

He buries kisses into my hair and across my shoulders. "I need you," he lovingly growls.

Then he tenderly drops his hands to my growing, pregnant belly. "And I need you too, my little peanut."

My poor husband… how do I do this?

Without warning, a rush of agony roars around my 22-week abdomen, the abrupt sharp pain causing me to double-over. I grab onto the sink in front of me as I groan from the intense throbbing.

This can't be happening.

"Riley?" Liam steps out of the bathroom, and hollers down the hallway. "Leo! We need help!" He takes me back into his arms. "What is it? What's wrong?"

The pain subsides, and I begin to sob. I can't look at him. 

Today. Of all days, why today?

"Liam," I choke out , "my water broke."

~🖤~

TAGS (updated 09/2022; please let me know if you wish to be added/removed):

PERMA

@21-wishes @alj4890 @ao719 @charlotteg234 @issabees @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nikirennie87 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam

ALL TRR

@3pawandme @alyshak92 @iaminlovewithtrr @lovingchoices14 @malblk21 @rubiwalker @sfb123 @twinkleallnight

***

TRIGGER WARNINGS: discussion of infertility; discussion of cancer; insinuation of a major character death; miscarriage

***

#the royal romance #choices trr #trr fanfic #choices fanfic #liam rys #king liam rys #liam x mc #liam x riley #royal roulette #choices flashfics #prompt challenge

[eclysia]

promptly exiting the for you tab

#playing russian roulette every fucking time i open it. #almost done with royal i swera

[barrowsteeth]

YOUNG ROYALS s2e6 + timestamp roulette

for anon x2!

#young royals #youngroyalsedit #tvedit #cinemapix #mediagifs #dailytvfilmgifs #dailyflicks #dailynetflix #barrowgifs #tuserpris #userrjoana #gif requests #timestamp roulette

[coldfanbou]

More Than A Bath

I mixed things up a little with a soapland theme. I hope y'all enjoy

Length 2.7K

Nako x Mreader X Kazuha

You look up at the sign and take a deep breath. There were murmurs that she worked here, but you didn’t think it was true. You click your phone and check the time: 10 pm. The shop is supposed to be open now. You walk up to the door and step inside. The front room was decorated in such a way that it looked like a casino. To your left was a man behind the counter wiping it down. “Welcome! I haven’t seen your face before. Is it your first time here?” 

You nod your head, “It is.”

“Welcome to the Royal Flush. We offer great relaxation for men after a long day's work. We have a few options here, starting at thirty minutes and going up to two hours. That said, you can extend it up to another two hours.” The man motions to a blank board behind him before turning around. “My apologies; I forgot to turn this thing on. Just a moment.” He goes under his desk, flicking a button, causing the screen to light up with pictures of women on playing cards. You couldn’t see anyone who looked like her, though. He motions to the screen. “As you can see, we have many ladies available to help you. You can choose any one of them for your time here. Or if you’re feeling lucky, you can play the roulette.”

“What’s the roulette?” 

“I’m glad you asked, sir. The roulette is a wheel that gives you the chance to get two women for the price of one and even enables some that are usually reserved for special customers. The price to play is a little higher than choosing from the board, but if you hit the jackpot, you get two women for four hours. At worst, you’re paying a little more for our basic thirty-minute service, but at best, you’ll have the best night of your life. All you have to do is predict the space the ball will land in. What would you like, sir?”

You consider the chance the rumors were true, and she was just for special customers. “I choose the roulette.” After taking your money, the man smiles and asks you for a number. You choose the number she had ended up with on the show, six. The screen behind the man changes to a roulette wheel, and he begins the game. The ball on-screen moves around the roulette wheel, and while you don’t have high hopes for getting it right, you hope you’ll at least get something good.

As the ball begins to slow down,  you see it coming up on your number. Time slows down as the ball approaches the number six spot and swings past it one more time before coming around again. The ball loses momentum as it hits one of the ball deflectors, and miraculously, it plops into the six slot. The man smiles at you, “How rare.” He says, a slight amusement in his voice. “Congratulations, sir, you’ve hit the jackpot. You’ll be allowed to choose two women to help you relax and choose from our special menu. That being said, not everyone is in, so you’ll have limited choices.”  The screen behind the man changes again to show different women than before, and immediately, you spot her. Nako was working here. You continue to look at the boar, seeing other idols on it. Some of them greyed out to show they were unavailable. 

“How do you get them to come when they’re so busy with other activities?” 

“They need to relax too. All things considered, they come here pretty often. So who would you like?” You look back at the board, seeing other Japanese idols like Twice’s J-line and members of Le Sserafim. 

“I’d like Nako and Kazuha.” 

“Great choices. Here is your room number. They’ll be there in a moment. You may take the elevator to the top floor.” You give the man a nod and head to your room. Thoughts run through your mind. You never expected to find out that idols would work at some place like this. You hadn’t even considered what you would do now that you were faced with meeting Nako and Kazuha. 

When you get to your room, you tap the card the man gave you and step inside. It was a fully furnished apartment on the inside. You walk further in, seeing the view from your floor. You could see block after block of the city from your room. Wanting to look at the other rooms, you first come across the bathroom; poking your head inside, you see the usual inflatable you had seen in porn and notice the giant bath behind it. The floor was all tile, with a drain in the corner of the room. You check the other side of your room, seeing it was just a bedroom. Checking through the dressers, you notice sex toys and condoms, among other things. 

You hear a small beep from the front and head back to the living room to see Nako and Kazuha standing there. What’s immediately noticeable is their lack of clothing. Both are wearing just their bra and panties, only after you notice their hair being up. You gulp, nervous and unable to say a word. They give you a small smile and wave, obviously used to being seen in their state. Nako takes the lead, walking up to you and wrapping her around your back. “Take good care of us.” She says, her head on your chest. She shines a smile your way before letting you go. 

Kazuha pats the short woman’s bottom, “Would you like to get started, sir?”

“I would.” 

“This way, then.” Kazuha grabs your arm, pressing it against her modest breasts as she leads you to the bath. Nako grabs your other arm. Kazuha turns the water on for the bath, and the pair begin to strip you down, working quickly. 

“Oh, look at this.” Nako teases as she pulls down your pants. Your bulge was obvious to everyone. She runs her small hands along it before kneeling and rubbing her face against it. “Ah, it’s been so long. Kazuha,  aren’t you excited?” She says, looking at the younger woman. She grabs Kazuha’s hand, placing it on your crotch. “It’s big, huh?” Kazuha’s cheeks turn red, and she looks away from you, embarrassed. “Let’s get these off.” Nako tugs at your underwear until it finally comes off, your cock smacking her forehead. She’s stunned for a second but quickly laughs it off. Her small hand struggles to wrap itself around your shaft. “You are big!” She exclaims with a huge smile on her face. You groan as she strokes your shaft. While Nako plays with your cock, Kazuha takes off the little clothing she has, unhooking her bra and tossing it near the door before stepping out of her panties. Your attention quickly returns to Nako as you feel her tongue running back and forth over your cock. 

“Ah, Nako.” You moan, feeling your knees get weak from the sudden pleasure. She giggles before continuing. 

“We should get you in the bath,” Kazuha says as she strips Nako of her bra. “Don’t you think that’s a good idea, Nako?” Nako has a slight frown on her face but agrees, letting you go to remove her panties. Kazuha leads you into the tub, stepping in to test the water. The tub was wide enough to comfortably fit the three of you, with Nako on one side and Kazuha on the other. The shorter woman couldn’t seem to keep her hands off you. She reached for your cock, stroking it slowly as she pressed her tits into your arm. Kazuha sees what Nako is doing and joins in, turning onto her side and cupping your balls as she drags her nipples along your arm. You’re eyes are glued to Nako as she steadily moves her hand along your shaft. She plants her lips on yours and speeds up. You grunt in response, struggling to do much else. Your hand wraps around Nako, squeezing her tit and making her moan. Her devilish smile grows as her grip on your shaft tightens. Kazuha begins to whisper into your ear as you focus on Nako. “You’ve got Nako wrapped around your finger. Did you know she’s on birth control? You can cum inside her all you’d like.” Kazuha’s sensual voice continues, “I’m on birth control too. I wouldn’t mind if you gave me a few creampies either.” 

Your cock begins to twitch in Nako’s hand. “Don’t cum so quickly. We’re just getting started. Kazuha and I still need to wash your body. Maybe we should use the mat. You’d like that, right? It would mean we get to use our entire body.” You nod along and get out of the bath with Nako and Kazuha. They place you on the inflatable mat. Nako grinds on your leg, lightly moaning as she stares at your cock. Kazuha had gathered water and soap to clean your body before seeing Nako enjoying herself. She huffs and puts everything on the floor before getting behind the petite woman. 

“Nako, you’re forgetting your job. We’re supposed to be making the customer feel good.” She says, grabbing Nako’s small breasts and squeezing them. The short woman throws her head back and moans. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” Nako asks as she grinds on your leg. “I just need a little release.”

“Nako, you’re being a slut in front of our customer,” Kazuha responds, digging her fingers into Nako’s skin.

“I’m a slut. I’m a slut,” Nako cries. “I don’t think I can wait any longer.” She breaks free from Kazuha’s grip and moves up to your crotch, rocking against your cock. Nako quickly raises herself and slams herself onto your cock. You fill the room with moans as you cum as soon as you’re buried inside Nako. You’re not the only one, though, as Nako cums with you. Feeling your warm cum flood into her cunt, Nako slowly grinds against you as she moans. Nako moves her fingers along her clit, rubbing it in small circles. “Ah, so full. I feel so hot, Kazuha.” You feel Nako’s cunt milking your cock. She was tight, her walls squeezing you with a lot of force.  Your eyes are glued to Nako, watching as she pleasures herself. You don’t notice Kazuha fingering herself as she watches Nako. She’s groping herself and pushing her fingers deeper into her cunt as Nako begins to move again. Nako leaves just the head inside before swallowing your cock in one movement. You stifle your moan while Nako lets hers fill the room. “You’re so big. Look here.” Nako says, pointing at a bulge. She presses on it; you grunt, realizing the bulge was because of you. Nako begins bouncing on your cock, moving at a steady pace as she gets used to your size. She holds your thighs and throws her head back as she moans, noticing Kazuha standing there. 

“Come on, Kazuha, join us. You’ll be in heaven.” Nako says, humming in bliss as she slams herself down, moving her hips to please both of you. Kazuha gets beside you, taking one of your hands and moving it toward her now aching cunt. “No, Kazuha ride him.” Nako says as she continues to use you. Kazuha looks at you, her face bright red, before nodding. She silently positions herself over your face, trying to lower herself gently. She was taking a little too long for you, and you decided to pull her down. Your tongue pushes past her wet lips, diving inside her. You felt Kazuha squirm on top of you; she placed her hands on your chest as she let a river of moans flow out from her. “It feels good, doesn’t it? Just wait until this is inside you.” Nako tells her coworker as she rubs the bulge. Kazuha's breathing quickens as she feels your tongue lapping at her walls. She struggles to keep herself up. Nako sees her friend struggling and lifts Kazuha’s head before kissing her. “I love seeing you like this.”  Nako seems almost drunk on the pleasure she’s receiving; she plays with Kazuha’s tit, attaching herself to her nipple and swirling her tongue around it.

You dig your hands into Kazuha’s waist, keeping her in place. She began to grind against your face, the pleasure making her go crazy. The pleasure from you and Nako was pushing her toward the edge. She started to whimper as she closed in on her climax. “I don’t want to…I don’t want to cum yet.” She whined as she came. Kazuha’s body twitched as she came, her body rocking uncontrollably. Nako smiled, loving the sight of Kazuha cumming on your face. You lap up her sweet nectar, making the younger woman shiver before she falls to the side. 

“Can you give me a taste?” Nako asks as she leans in. You were more than willing to share, pushing your tongue into her mouth. You sat up and grabbed Nako’s waist. You held her for a moment before moving her up and down your shaft. She began to groan as you took control of her. You rammed every inch into Nako’s small body, enjoying as her cries of pleasure came more often and eventually turned into whines. “I’m going to cum. I’m- I’m cumming!” Nako screamed as you continued to use her. Your cock began to twitch inside her cunt, and you told her to get ready for another creampie. “F-fuck, do it cum in me,” Nako whined as you impaled her on your shaft and shot your cum into her. Nako’s walls clamped down around your cock, rubbing the head and making you want to go deeper. Your cum flooded Nako’s pussy, leaking out of her before you even pulled out. You take a good look at Nako, the blissful expression on her face, the drool running down her cheek as her mind goes. 

Nako collapses on you, her cunt still squeezing your cock long after your orgasm ended. You lift her off and turn to Kazuha. She was face down on the floor, still recovering. Your eyes move down her smooth back until you notice her shapely bottom. You get behind her and stroke your cock, getting yourself ready for another round. 

With your other hand, you grab Kazuha’s waist and lift her ass. You press your cock against her entrance and slowly push yourself inside the young woman. “Ah, you're stretching my pussy,” She groans weakly. Kazuha manages to get her arms under herself and push her face off the floor. She looks over her shoulder to see you pushing yourself inside. Kazuha’s walls welcomed you, snuggly wrapping around your cock as you rested inside her. You were close to cumming, sensitive from your last orgasm. Still, you pushed onward, beginning to thrust into the young woman, your pace picking up. You have to dig your fingers into Kazuha’s waist to keep her from moving. As you’re pounding away at her body, you can’t help but look at Kazuha’s beautiful ass; you pull back your hand and slam it into her soft ass. She yelps from the hit. A handprint begins to form because of the force used, but Kazuha begs you to do it again. 

You drive your hand into her ass again. She moans this time, loving the pain. Nako comes around, lying on the inflatable mattress and looking at Kazuha. Her fingers playing with her clit as she watches. You’re getting turned on by having Nako watch you and begin to move faster, slamming yourself into Kazuha without a second thought. The young woman’s moans become louder, and her walls clamp down around your cock. You were both nearing your climax. You couldn’t hold it any longer and buried yourself inside Kazuha, filling her womb with your cum. Your orgasm triggered hers. As soon as she felt your thick cum fill her, Kazuha arced her back and came on your cock. You could hear Nako teasing Kazuha, but her words were muddled as you focused in on the image of Kazuha’s back.

When you start to regain yourself, you hear Nako’s voice. “We still have three hours, Kazuha. How are you going to last that long?” Nako pinched the younger woman’s cheeks. “Are you going to make me take him the whole time? I don’t mind, but you have to be professional.” Nako turns her attention to you. “Why don’t we head for the bedroom? We can take Kazuha with us. She loves watching.” You nod your head, ready to spend more time with Nako.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #izone smut #le sserafim smut #yabuki nako smut #kazuha smut

[fayes-fics]

Ruler & Subject

Paring: Benedict Bridgerton x royal!fem!reader

Summary: blurb where a princess and a certain untitled artist play together…

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, power swap, dom/sub dom!Benedict, sub!Princessreader, hair pulling, blow job, deepthroat, breathplay, derogatory names, masturbation, swallowing, smidge of cunnilingus and face-sitting.

Word count: 1.4 k

Authors note: Another smut blurb that came as a result of a roulette prompt (“Swallow. All of it”). Written in an hour. Unbetaed. Utter and complete filth. Enjoy? 🤷‍♀️

Something about his slightly rough treatment makes you mindless with need—a want to be used by him. And he knows it. Gets that glint in his eye when you give him the signal across a room at a boring soirée.

Once in a quiet corridor, he grabs you by the back of the neck and steers you away from prying eyes. Out across the manicured gardens. Deep into your aunt’s Byzantine maze, a mist clinging to the neat privet hedges in the crisp night air.

He doesn’t even have to tell you to get on your knees anymore; it’s a reflex. As soon as he stops marching, you drop. Eager to please. His crooked smile beguiling as you gaze up at him roughly, pulling open the buttons at his hip.

“Hands behind your back,” he tuts as you go to touch his clothed thigh. 

Instantly, you obey, fingers clasped over the small of your back. The rough pebble path under your knees is already a slight discomfort you know will only heighten your experience. Bruises on both your knees for him.

His cock is already leaking as it bobs against your nose, leaving a patch of wetness there that you will savour later. Without being told, you shuffle a fraction, greedily wrap your lips around the tip, suckling into your mouth. Hot, salty and tart against your tongue as you lathe the underside, and he exhales raggedly. A large hand rounding your scalp and pulling your hair at the root, a slight burn on your scalp.

“What's your signal?” He checks quickly.

You raise your left hand and tap twice on his outer thigh. Then, obediently, place the hand back. You never want to use it. 

“Good,” he nods, scraping blunt fingernails over your crown. “I’m not going to be gentle,” he warns, a prickle of excitement running down your spine at that news.

He thrusts his hips forward and slides his cock deep into your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut at the blunt force attempting to school your gag reflex.

“Eyes open,” he snaps, “you will look at me the whole time.”

You do as bidden. Wide-eyed as he holds for a few beats, watching you suckle hard and accommodate his girth.

This is what you crave. So very opposite to who you both are; the role reversal and personality juxtaposition are intoxicating. A strong-willed princess on your knees for a sweet, affable, untitled artist. But not when you play like this. He is dominating and rough, bossing you around in ways no one dares. And you revel in it, insist upon it. The submission, the abdication of power, control. The pleasure to be used when, in all other aspects of your existence, you are the designated user, purely by the luck of your birth. 

“My filthy princess,” he coos, one hand moving to tap your hollowed cheek, a thumb hooking into the corner of your mouth to break the tight seal you hold around his cock. “Relax your throat; let me in,” the order is velvet and steel, just like his shaft.

Slackening your suction, you exhale around him, letting your throat open. He tips forward, deeper than before, groaning at the restriction your throat provides, a bead of precum sliding over your tastebuds as he rocks back moments later.

Then his hands clamp around your ears, and he is thrusting. Using your pliant mouth, your lips a ring of soft friction as he grunts, a slick gurgling noise every time he plugs your throat. His movements get rougher, plunging in, his grip strong in your hair, the gravel crunching around your knees and toes as he rocks your whole being. 

He stills, your nose buried in his pubic hair as you burble around his invasion, gaze locked on his. Unable to draw breath, You know he is waiting for that slight hint of panic on your face before giving your reprieve.

He withdraws, letting you take a shuddering, coughed breath as ropes of saliva web from your lips to his glistening cock.

“Call me it,” you implore hoarsely, feeling your spit drooping across the priceless large diamonds that drape around your neck.

“Wanton little slut,” he growls, and you flood yourself, a trickle of arousal running down your trembling inner thigh to your right knee.

“Please fuck me,” you beseech as he roughly moves your head around by your hair, chasing your mouth with his cock, a game of cat and mouse he is playing with himself as much as you.

“No. Ride your fingers if you must, but tonight, you stay on your knees.”

You whimper in disappointment before he slides back into your mouth, holding still shallow, awaiting your suckling attentions. Which you enthusiastically do. Humming and lapping at his cock, sucking hard with your tongue swirling over his frenulum. He mewls little noises, praising your talented mouth as you hitch up your skirt and hurriedly drive two fingers deep into your dripping cunt, wishing it was his cock.

He takes over again, thrusting deep as you ride your own hand, spiralling greedily towards completion. His gaze slips down, and he smirks when he sees your hand thrust under the hem of your dress.

“Give me that hand,” he instructs, holding still a weight over the length of your tongue as you offer your hand above your head. 

He pulls your arm straight, a slight burn in your shoulder socket as he wraps his warm, wet mouth around your soaked fingers and laps at your juices lasciviously. 

“You always taste so deliciously sweet,” he groans as he lets your fingers slip from his lips, thoroughly cleaned.

You can’t answer, your mouth too full, but he already knows it, both so feral for each other's taste. An irresistible tang that leaves you constantly coming back for more. 

Just last week, he was buried under your cloak, making you orgasm - silently - over his tongue in the royal box at the opera. You wanted to scream louder than every singer on stage but had to settle for a vice-like grip on your opera goggles and a few ragged, mute whimpers. Knowing he would stop immediately if you so much as made a peep. You are sure other box patrons likely saw him emerging from under your layers, a smug smirk on his dampened face, before being summarily dismissed from your company. And yet word never got back to your mother, the queen of Prussia, or your aunt Queen Charlotte. Women of power need their pretty playthings, likely being the Ton’s shared sentiment.

Urgency takes over for both of you. A need to climax clawing at your beings. You roughly rub your clit as his movements turn sharp, more pronounced, using you without mercy, knowing it is driving you closer, too, the heady sensation of denied breaths. You feel his peak as much as you hear his barked warning, a ripple up his shaft that has you readying yourself for the salty, tart taste, his tip at the back of your tongue. You have to hold your breath as it coats the inside of your mouth, him curled over and around you, cursing, his hand heavily matted into your hair.

“Swallow,” he commands. “All of it.”

You do as you are told, almost unable not to, mouth filled, his hand slipping to your throat to ensure you follow the directive.

“Good,” he groans, rubbing your windpipe soothingly with his palm as he shudders with little aftershocks.

You feel the throb of denial, unable to complete before he did, your clit burning, engorged, needing relief. As he withdraws from your mouth, you cannot stop the little shimmy in your hips, desperate for reprieve.

“Did my little Princess not finish?” he chuckles as he tucks himself back into his britches.

You pout and shake your head, looking up at him imploringly. The smirk that grows on his face makes your heart light up.

“Alright, you can sit on my face,” he offers conciliatoryly, sinking to join you on the ground. “But it will cost you…” he ends with a clipped warning.

“What is the price?” your voice slightly hoarse, eagerly gathering your dress around your hips and shuffling over him.

“I’ll think of something,” he hums affably before disappearing under your gown.

You offer him half of Bavaria when he slides his tongue deep into your slit and has you howling at the moon. Instead, ever your loyal subject, he settles on what you already had planned for him—one of his paintings hung in the National Gallery and you wearing a choker with his initials hidden amongst a cluster of sapphires.

No taglist cos just a writing sprint blurb.

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n