#and like suitor armor and all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cowyolks · 6 months

Note

I would like to make a request

Knight Soap X Princess Reader. I've been dying for it. The King König is amazing!

AN OATH OF ROSE BRIAR

Pairing: Knight! John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Female!Princess! Reader

Prompt: It was always nightfall when he’d sneak into your chambers, yearning for love that tears apart at the seams. You didn’t know forbidden love could taste so divinely sweet.

Words: 6.8 K

Warnings: Violence, Gore, Graves is a creep, smut, p in v sex, oral sex (receiving), fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, hint of voyeurism.

A/n: don’t come at me for the action scenes, I know they’re bad lmao. Otherwise I’m proud of this, even though it took me years.

“Hold your breathe, My Lady.” A sharp tug pulled against your waist, securing your corset even tighter to your body, almost like a second skin. You’d been exclusively told you had to look perfect this week, as your father, the King, was inviting possible suitors for you.

It left an irony and rotten taste in your mouth.

You’d lifted your arms, feeling the soft and thick fabric of your crimson dress fall over the enlarged swells of your breasts and hips. It was gorgeous, laced and embroidered with golden roses. Gold jewelry proudly sat at the hollow of your throat and smooth skin of your wrists.

The maids had done well making you look the part. It was just a shame all of this was in vain. You’d never love any of your potential suitors, for there was already a man that had thieved your affections and ran with it like a sly fox.

And it just so happened he was someone you could never have. Ah, forbidden love.

A sharp tug on your scalp alerted you of the busy hands weaving your ruby crusted diadem over your temples. They’d spritzed your body in perfume and oils, using berries to bring out the plumpness of your lips. You felt beautiful, but a type of beautiful that would burn if you stood too close.

A knock on your chamber door startled you from your daydream.

“The King has requested your presence at the harbor docks, Princess.” His voice warmed your very soul and burned your beating organ. There was no possible way he didn’t know the true affect of his voice, his body, his affection. It was killing you from the inside out.

He was a spectacle.

In the eyes of the public he was Ser MacTavish, first of his name, and knight of the Royal Guard. To you, under the cloak of darkness and seclusion, you referred to him as John, chanting his name as you panted against his lips. He made you feel good, a rush of freedom and adoration that pooled in your gut like rolling waves.

Your maids stepped away, offering you tight and practiced curtesies as you thanked them with a smile. You shifted closer to the heavy door, one of your ladies in waiting pushing the door open.

You adjusted to the gentle summer sun, squinting in the rays and enjoying the balmy warmth of the air. Breeze blew from the Sea, fluttering your hair laced with pearls and beads.

A shift of metal drew your attention to your knight, someone who swore an oath to your father to protect him. Instead, he settled on protecting you, being your main guard and secretive lover. John stood tall and proud in his chainmail, your house crest displayed across his chest.

He had his helmet off, the piece of armor hanging loosely in the crook of his arm. He had a passive expression on his features, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was dreading this day as much as you.

You would be married off in less than a week, still you couldn’t help but look at him with greedy infatuation. He’d shaved for the occasion, jaw sharp and shining. His rosy lips contrasted the tanned richness of his skin. Even his eyes, the color of the restless sky, shone in sheer strength and power. His high rank was exposed through the gold beads and occasional shells that were braided through his ebony hair. The middle part was much longer than the sides. He always clipped it after a victory, and you’d never known him to have grown it out.

“Good Morn, Princess.” His deep voice twanged with the lit of his accent, making slight goosebumps ripple through your skin.

“How do you do, Ser?” You stepped forward, falling into step beside him as the two of you climbed down the steps to the bay. Gulls called out from above for their partners, stooping downwards to feed their young.

“Been better, I have. The lady I love will soon love another.” He muttered, hands clenching at his side with what you could detect as wretched jealousy. You noted he was just as miserable about your arrangement as you were. At least he still had his oath—nothing would change there. But you, you would bear a blood bond to your potential suitor. To obey him and provide him with heirs.

You felt bile rise up your throat just thinking about it.

“I doubt she will ever love anyone more than you.” You admitted, knowing then by the twinkle in his eyes it satisfied and gutted him at the same time. The scent of saltwater and seaside jasmine flooded your nostrils as John led you to your father, who was patiently awaiting for the approaching ships.

Ships of different houses, all set upon winning your hand. There would be a festival held all week, the kingdom was already decorated in crimson silks and glowing lanterns for the occasion. It would be beautiful, if it wasn’t for such horrible terms. With the festivals came the games. It was always fun to see the men compete in such activities despite the reason.

You distinctly remember watching the flex of your knight’s biceps and thighs as he tossed a caber the farthest and had won. Pride surged through your veins that day, and you made sure to reward him in the dim glowing light of your chambers.

Now, your suitors would compete for your hand. While it wasn’t necessarily determined that the winner of said games would earn your hand, it was more so a tool to help decide. The Royal Court and your father would pick the best with the most assets.

The only saving grace of this tournament was the fact that several knights under your Father’s command could compete as well. Not for your hand, but just to show the strength of your kingdom. Your eyes would be on your John, as they always would be.

Your knight stopped in front of your father, bowing his head low with one hand clutching the iron hilt of his impressive sword. You performed your own curtesy, gold jewelry clashing together as you moved.

“Daughter…aren’t you the prettiest gem in the Kingdom.” And isn’t that just what you are? A shiny object meant to barter away.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” You spoke clearly, something you were taught at a young age.

“Come here,” Your father gestured to the docking ships. You stepped forward, just as John stepped backwards, always one to watch your back. You could feel his fiery stare bouncing on the bare skin of your spine. Attempting to hide the rush of blood flowing to your cheeks, your eyes pinpointed the rush of banners heading down the enormous dock.

All your potential suitors came from the East, a district called Kortac. The land was split into three countries, all ruled by different Kings.

First, there was King Kim, dubbed Horangi. Most referred to him as the Tiger King, for his ruthlessness in battle that was reminded of a big cat. You’d met him before, he was respectable and kind despite those rumors, but he certainly wasn’t your John.

Then there was King Philip, while he was definitely pretty, you’d only heard bad about the wealthy King. He was the richest of all, as he had his own battalion deemed his shadows. You met his eyes slowly, almost immediately picking up on the greedy gleam of it. It made you shiver thinking of marrying him.

Lastly, was the most mysterious of the three. You didn’t even know his full name, just that everyone referred to him as König. He covered his face, although it didn’t stop the stares. Anyone would be drawn to a man of his massive structure. You’d never met him, but you’d heard how he fought alongside his soldiers, as if he didn’t give a damn about his Royal status.

Your father held his arms out wide, almost as if he was hugging his whole kingdom. “Welcome! It’s an honor to host your districts in hopes of winning my lovely daughter’s hand. You all must be tired from your journey, my guards will show you to your chambers. Rest up, because tonight will be our first game that the princess has the honor of choosing!”

All eyes settled upon your pampered form, making you shift slightly from all the attention. Subtly your eyes met John’s— what was he the best at? You wracked your mind quickly. He was a simple stable boy once upon a time, someone who loved horses and worked hard for the hope of something better. He was tall and strong, quick and witty. You thought of the callous on his hands, from hours of wielding metal and clutching reins. Yes, you had it.

“I chose jousting.” You exclaimed, not noticing the wicked smirk that wound its way across John’s lips. Cheers and war cries broke out amongst the men and common folk, all of them excited to watch the entertainment.

“Excellent! The games begin tonight before the feast to honor the princess.” Your father informed before clapping once as his guards escorted him to his chambers. John approached you again, bowing politely in show of all the new eyes.

“Back to your chambers, princess?” He asked, eyes flickering every once and a while. He looked stiffer than normal, ever the vigilant force at your side. You could tell he didn’t like all these outsiders, specifically around you.

“No, not yet. I feel like going on a walk through the gardens.” You’d always found solstice around the sweet smelling rows of briar and petal.

Afternoon bled into evening. And with the evening time came the air of excitement. You’d been fiddling with a strand of crimson fabric, the ribbon twisting between your digits absentmindedly.

You tilted your head behind you, wishful stare settling upon your guard, who walked several paces behind. He was dressed in full armor now, the helmet covering the soft flesh of his neck and head. Dark hair still curled out the bottom, whipping around against his tanned neck.

Your eyes flickered around, spotting no one in the private gardens. Still, you cautiously shuffled into the shade and privacy of the marble pavilion, a place where you and your knight’s lips locked and fiery touches met before. John knew to follow you, his form barely making a sound despite the heavy armor.

“Princess?” He uttered, eyes full of what only could be described as pure want and adoration.

You surged forward, lips immediately settling upon his own. A large arm wrapped upon your waist, pulling you off your feet and into his scent and warmth. His bottom lip parted, allowing his tongue to swelteringly lick across your own. You parted for air, a string of saliva connecting the two of you before it broke away.

“Please win tonight.” You begged, knowing that it would mean nothing despite the victory. John had sworn an oath— an oath that sealed his fate. No children, no wife, no lands. He’d have his head on a chopping block if anyone caught him.

“Aye, I’ll do just that, flower.” He swore, smothering eyes falling downwards to your moving hands at his chest. The scarlet ribbon you fiddled with snaked it’s way under armor. You’d tied the knot against the loose end of his tunic, your personal favor. The pads of your fingers brushed his chest, feeling the strong thudding of his heart.

He had your favor, your love, your time all symbolized in that red piece of fabric.

“Go,” you whispered, nodding towards the south, where the growing arena was likely filling up with spectators. He nodded his head once, grasping onto your hand that still stubbornly clung to his chest. He pressed a gentle kiss upon your knuckles.

“Goodbye for now.”

You watched him leave, following the horizon to the stables, where his mare awaited. You’d rushed down to the stands, keeping your head covered and away from prying eyes. After shifting pass several soldiers you collapsed down into the forged steel of your throne, similar to your father’s.

He’d been waiting for you, a disappointing look crossing his features.

“Why were you late?”

“I lost track of time in the gardens. You know how much I love the roses.” You excused, hoping it was enough for your father to put on his act of King and host again. He hummed, before standing. The audience immediately dropped volume upon the gesture of the King.

“Let the games begin!”

Loud uproars broke out though the area, cheers and shouts for their own kings escaping the many districts. You stayed seated, straightening out the sheer fabric of your gown.

A large black Stallion trotted proudly into the area, a knight with gleaming armor the color of obsidian upon the saddle. John’s second in command, Ser Simon. Some called him the Ghost, for his shifty speed and impressive strength in battle. He nodded to your father beyond his visor, shouldering the large lance he held.

His opponent’s horse moved forward as well, a buckskin shire so large you could almost hear it’s thundering steps. Large horse for a large man—König shouldered his lance with precision. You had no doubts he could out muscle Simon, but the Ghost certainly held fast in his speed and intelligence. König’s armor was coppery in color, long since used and well worn in his victories. It was admirable in a queasy kind of way.

A bugle sounded to your left, kick starting the joust with a burst of added cheers.

You watched as Simon’s horse reared excitedly, happy to speed towards the oncoming opponent in long strides. You watched as the Ghost twisted his shield, jamming König’s lance narrowly, avoiding splinters to his chest. You let out a breath as the two made it to the opposite ends unscathed.

The two approached again, this time Ghost was on the offense, shifting his shield before jabbing his lance in the opposite direction that caught König on his arm between the subtle crease of his armor.

Cheers erupted from your own subjects, chanting out the name “Ghost” over and over, with a thumb up, your father declared Ghost the winner.

Next was King Graves and Horangi. A match you were looking forward to as much as watching paintings dry. But alas, you had to look interested for they were your suitors.

Horangi looked on with flashing intelligence, something you admired greatly. If he could think quickly, he’d know that Graves’ left side was always weakly guarded and possibly strike there.

The first bugle sounded, allowing Graves to lead off first with his expensive looking mare. Horangi took off a second later, visor dark and covering the movement of his eyes. The two flew forward, speeding pass with no damage done.

The crowd cheered as Graves boasted from the opposite side, his raised arms making your nose wrinkle in disgust.

The second bugle sounded, this time Horangi was faster, shouldering his shield in determined might. His lance favored and aimed to Graves side, which he narrowly missed after the wealthy king twisted away. The crowd bursted into relieving calls, while the other half sighed in disappointment.

Finally, the last horn blew, and with gaining speed, Horangi aimed to Graves’ unprotected side again, but with a dirty trick, Graves juked his lance to the side, then with a vicious twist brought his shield straight onto the nose of Horangi, essentially flattening him and having the Tiger King fold to the ground with a wounded puff.

It was dirty, but essentially fair. It made unease reside in your gut as your father held up a thumb for King Graves’ victory. Cheers and boos broke out, making you shrink back in your seat with a huff. But then, your eyes caught on the sapphire blues of your knight. He rode on his fiery mare dubbed Themis, tribute to Justice. She was a handsome bay that loved when you gave her sugar cubes in the seclusion of the stables.

John would take on the Ghost. A battle that you knew would be entertaining and competitive, yet harmless. No ill intention would breakout among the knights, that you were sure of.

John rode to his side with a determined exhale, gripping his lance tightly as Themis pawed the dirt in anticipation. The bugle sounded as you shuffled to the edge of your seat, resisting the urge to worriedly bite your lip. He clicked his tongue, urging Themis into a speedy canter as he maneuvered his body in the right position.

Simon, who definitely owned the strength, brought himself tightly together, using his blunt force to push John’s lance away with his shield. The audience sighed in anticipation as the two knights rode to the opposite side unscathed. Under their visors, you could see the hints of amused smiles. At least they were having some competing fun.

The next round started, this time with John taking up a defensive position instead of offensive. Simon aimed his lance at John’s armored chest, anticipating that he’d block with his shield. Themis galloped onwards, huffing steaming smoke like a fiery dragon.

With a heave, Simon thrusted the lance inwards just as John brought his shield up a few inches. Then, with a lightening quick speed, he lowered it again, shoving his lance instead into Simon’s side, effectively teetering his balance. The Ghost fell with grace, landing on his feet in a disappointed dull thud. You resisted the urge to cheer too loudly as your John circled, a fist pumped in honorable victory.

Your father held his thumb up to John, likely the only approval he’d ever receive from the King. You only wish he’d approve of you wanting John’s hand. But Princesses weren’t people, they were tools of power. A simple pawn in the decade game of chess.

The tourney was drawing to an end— just John and Graves left in the competition. You’d completely dropped your resolve, chewing upon your lip as King Graves pranced out on his horse again.

There was a dangerous look in his eye, something that made your stomach spin in knots for your John. Regardless, your own knight held a hard and determined scowl, his chest likely breathing in pure desperation for a victory.

The deafening horn blew again, and John took off in a thunderous offense. He looked calm and collected, ever the cool demeanor when it came to a fight. Themis whinnied in disappointment as both lances missed their marks respectfully, making you let out an exhale you didn’t know you were holding.

Time sped up, your own surroundings moving much faster than your panicked thoughts. The next thing you knew, Themis was squealing, rearing up on her hind legs as John scrambled for a tighter hold on her reins. But you knew your John, your sweet, selfless, passionate John— it didn’t surprise you in the slightest that he dismounted in a cloud of dust. He was always selfless like that, disqualifying himself to check upon his panicked mare.

Themis seized her bucking as John cooed at her in reassuring words, a quick pat pressed into her withers.

Then you noticed the searing red of a laceration. The bleeding wound leaked crimson, but it wasn’t the blood that made your nostrils flare in anger. No, it was thin stripe of such a cut. A cut only made by a stealthy swing of a short sword.

The bastard king had cheated.

Roaring applause and boos echoed across the arena. You had to bite your tongue to resist a uproar of your own, so much so that you tasted warm blood upon your tongue.

You met John’s eyes, his filled with so much apologetic sorrow you had to blink to stop your own from watering too much. It wasn’t that you were upset that he lost, more so that it wouldn’t matter regardless. He was sweetness you could never taste, love that would only burn you.

You’d realized this now. Now so more than ever, when the sight of your own summer roses extended in front of your line of sight.

A crown of beauty and fertility. You couldn’t help but focus on the wicked thorns that pierced your temples as King Graves, the victor, declared you the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. It made you sick that he was the most favorable of the Kings. You’d never wanted to run away more, to spend your days on the highland coasts in a homey cottage your knight had built by hand. Saltwater between your toes and John’s body to keep you warm on the stormy days.

Perhaps, now would be the time to throw away your titles and fortune and replace it with freedom, love, and yearning.

The evening blurred into darkness illuminated by glowing starlight. A time you relished and anticipated when your knight would slip into your chambers and kiss away the stress and pain of expectations, orders, and rules.

Now, you wanted nothing more than to be excused from this wretched dinner and to sleep until dawn.

The crown of roses sat uncomfortably upon your head, despite all the compliments you had received from the nobles. You’d see it more fair to chuck the bloody thing in the roaring fires bordering the stony hall. Sorrow crept into your soul when you couldn’t find your knight in the sea of feasting people.

Your own roast chicken and vegetables lay untouched. It was hard to even think of eating when King Phillip sat next to you, boasting and smiling with his too white teeth. You wanted to get sick when his hand subtly touched your lower back.

“Father.” You blurted, drawing attention upon yourself. Graves’ retracted his jeweled hand begrudgingly upon the careful look he received from your king. Visibly you gulped, now having the divided attention of not just your father but the three other Kings as well.

“I’m not feeling well. I’d like to return to my chambers if it is quite alright with you.” You asked, nearly squirming at the sharp look he sent you. He didn’t appreciate your resistance to being wed, but you did happen to look a tad lighter than your typical shade. He sighed heavily, but nodded anyways.

“Go get some rest. I’ll have Ser Riley escort you since your own knight is still tending to his mare.” Your heart jumped as your father confirmed where John was. But you knew, in your heart, he wasn’t just taking care of Themis— he was shouldering his defeat badly.

Despite this, you stood, making careful eye contact with Ser Simon. You’d always observed him from afar, growing unnecessarily nervous with the helmeted knight. He was strong and mysterious, not belonging to a house or clan but was simply a nomad that sworn oath. Your John liked him, that was enough for you. After all, He wasn’t so bad when he cracked morbid jokes you likely should never hear as a Princess.

The Ghost held out the crook of his arm, signaling for you to take the cold metal of his armored forearm. You did so quietly, holding the stiffness of your posture until you were through the large doors of the hall.

Simon was always quiet, really only speaking when he needed to. John told you one time, when the two fought under the same battalion that Simon wouldn’t shut up or stop cracking jokes as he dragged a wounded John through the battlefield. Your knight realized then that Simon only spoke to keep him conscious and laughing. Respect and gratitude bloomed in your heart for the Ghost.

“I assume your sickness has left?” The Ghost spoke in his rough voice that reminded you of scratchy bark on Oak trees. Your heart jumped at such an accusing question.

“Pardon?”

“The damn parasite king? Leaching onto our Princess like he’s some Messiah.” He growled.

“Shhh! What if someone hears you speak that way, Ser?” You panicked for his safety, eyes flickering around in a familiar practice of looking for wondering eyes or ears. Simon, didn’t seem bothered, only shrugging in nonchalance.

He steered you down the hall, bicep gently flexing under your palm. It was then when you noticed he took a wrong turn, instead following the lantern light to the stables.

“You turned the wrong hall, my chambers are this way.” You insisted. Simon shook his head, continuing to usher you gently down the cobble path to the growing sound of whickering horses.

“Ser?”

“You speak too much.” Simon imputed, leading you into the old wooden building that housed all the guard’s prized mares and stallions. It was dark inside, the area barely lit with gentle candlelight. Still, you made out the shuffling outline of a familiar body.

John.

It took everything in you not to sprint in his direction. To pull him into an embrace and kiss the worry lines of his face. Instead you stayed planted next to Simon, who gingerly dropped your arm with a knowing look in his eyes. You should have been worried that he knew, but you could care less at the current moment. He was friend, not foe.

“I think I hear the sound of impending doom. I must go before it’s too late.” Simon monotonously quipped in a low voice, tilting his masked face just enough for you to see his wink before he turned on his heel and left you alone.

Your eyes swiveled around, only catching on the taut muscles of John’s back, who didn’t seem to notice you over the sound of Themis’ affectionate whinnies.

You took careful steps forward, not caring that the bottom of your expensive crimson gown was being caked in dust and straw. Instead you couldn’t help but admire your knight. He was shoveling loose hay into Themis’ trough, back muscles rippling in strain. You caught the white material of bandage wrapped tightly and professionally around his horse, obviously the work of his experienced hands.

“John?” You spoke softly, as not to startle his usually alert self. It appeared he only cared about his surroundings when you were his to guard and protect.

Immediately he dropped the pitchfork, the sound muffled by the hay below his feet. Then he turned, so fast that you missed the pure looks of sorrow, surprise and adoration cross his features.

“Princess! I- you shouldn’t be here.”

Your heart strained at the rejection, nevertheless you knew he was frustrated and self loathing. You couldn’t help but approach him, just as he took a leaping bound forward, pushing pass the gate to follow you like a loyal hound.

It was common practice for the two of you to find the dim part of a room. A place where no eyes or ears could possibly look.

Here, his stiffness fled, eyes nearly glowing against the flickering flames.

“I failed you.” His head hung low, knees almost buckling from the sheer disappointment that pushed heavy on his heart. He avoided your approaching form, not taking the time to meet your gaze or see the shaking of your head.

“You could never fail me, John. Not now, nor ever.” Your palm settled upon his stubbled cheek, his body instantly reacting to the touch by pushing further against you.

“But I-”

You cut him off, placing your thumb upon the chapped line of his lip. He’d immediately stopped speaking, his hand going upwards to delicately take a hold of your own. His palm nearly swallowed your entire hand, his calloused fingertips stopping just above your wrists.

“I don’t deserve you, Princess.” He’d absentmindedly brought his thumb across your knuckles, comforting and true that made your body buzz in love and adoration.

You reached upwards, tilting your head just enough to ghost your lips over his own. You’d let him chose if he’d like to take comfort in your warmth. A small grunt of frustration fluttered down his throat, but he took you anyways.

Arm wrapping tightly upon your waist to hold you to his warm body, firm with countless hours of training and bloodshed. His other hand settled upon the back of your neck, fingers sprawling with the purpose to expand you towards his awaiting mouth. A sharp gasp of surprise exited you as he kissed you. It wasn’t his typical sensation of passion and sweetness.

John kissed you hard. His teeth clattering against your own, with his tongue pushing down your throat in a one-sided battle of dominance. He was chasing his frustration through your very body, and you certainly liked it.

“Don’t know what you do to me…” he breathed out as he broke away, only to steer you against the far wooden wall, protecting the back of your head with the back of his hand.

“I think I know.” You quipped back, the heat coiling in your stomach roaring at the sharp look you received.

“Cheeky little thing…” he hissed, one of his hands holding you steady while the other trailed down your collar bone to the top curvature of your breasts. His mouth followed after. Lips pressing searing kisses against your exposed neck, down to the hollow of your throat.

“John.” You sweetly aired, exposing your throat even more to his awaiting mouth.

“I know, flower, I know.” His voice growing even deeper with the lust that coated his tongue like sweet honey. “Turn around.” He muttered, maneuvering your hips so that you could rotate with your back to him.

His fingers quickly found your corset in a familiar action, loosing it enough to help pull down your undergarments. His mouth pressed open kisses down the curve of your spine, making you gasp breathlessly and arch further against him. You felt the hardness of his cock press against your lower back, just as he hissed at the stimulation.

“Fuck…Need to taste ya’.” He growled in a command, typically the only time he did order around his superior. You had no problem following his experienced lead.

You heard the gentle thud of his knees hitting the straw bedding, just as his hand pushed on your hip to pivot to face him. Eyes once the color of the sky now raged like a stormy hurricane, dark and ravenous. It was enough for you to widen your legs more in an invitation.

The tips of his fingers traced the warm skin of your thighs, just as his head disappeared from under the soft silk of your dress. Hot air escaped onto your uncovered heat, making your eyes flutter shut in bliss.

“John,” you whined, oblivious to what he was planning beneath the drape. A growly chuckle sounded, until his lips made direct contact to your throbbing clit, his warm tongue flicking upon the bead in a teasing stroke that had your legs locking as they became pliable at his touch.

“Easy….” His palm made contact with the soft swell of your backside, molding his fingers into the skin that ached and buzzed for just him.

A soft sigh left your lips as he petted you, fingertips touching and caresssing with such accuracy despite the darkness under your dress. You mewled when a thick finger prodded your entrance, sliding nearly effortlessly into your wet heat.

“Fuckin’ hell, Bonnie, always so tight for me.” He growled, voice so heavenly you couldn’t stop your muscles from clenching yearningly against him. You cooed in response as he curled the digit, your own palms finding his shoulders to steady yourself from his burning touch.

“Just for you.” You pleaded, neck pushing back against the wood of the stable wall. Your throat bobbed when his tongue licked a hot stripe, body shuddering in ecstasy. John chuckled at your words, the vibration sending jolts across your core.

“That’s right, Flower. All mine, no sod of a King can have you. Just me, right?” He added another finger, relishing in your loss of control at his confident touch.

“Right, yes.” You gulped, losing yourself embarrassingly quick under his skilled tongue and fingers dipping into you. He picked up speed, noticing the tell tale signs of your body responding to his.

“Oh, John,” you stuttered, eyes fluttering shut as he curled his fingers skillfully, the movement being enough to allow the coil in your abdomen to finally snap.

You gushed around him with a carnal moan, his tongue hurriedly lapping it all up greedily, just as he hummed at the taste. You barely had time to heave out an exhale before his hands found the flesh of your hips, taking hold of you in a lovestruck desire. He placed a sweltering hot kiss upon the inside of your thigh. His massive hands pushed you upwards, allowing himself time to escape from under your crimson gown.

He looked like Eros reincarnated.

Crysaline eyes the color of deep-rooted glaciers bore into your very soul. He had a look to his face, such as a painting crafted of faithful devotion, as if he was staring at something so enchanting everything else dulled in comparison. Your own slick coated his stubble and lips, allowing the light to catch as he licked the nectar off with a satisfied hum.

He squeezed once, twice, upon your hips, signaling that he was to move backwards, his broad shoulders falling backwards upon the straw with a huff. He settled you down upon him, your thighs slotting between his hips as your dress spilled over the both of you.

“Yer’ so beautiful, flower.” He praised, candlelight catching in his blown out pupils. Your heart fluttered at the compliment, as did your weeping entrance.

“Mhm,” You preened, a soft smirk spreading over your lips as you leant to kiss him. With confident fingers, you reached under your dress, making contact with his waistband, sliding the material downwards before reaching his cock. He was scorching at your touch, already throbbing and prepared.

John let out a hiss muffled by your mouth, as your fingertip slid over his tip, smoothing the large bead of pre-cum that had gathered.

A delighted chuckle left your lips as he twitched, you pumped his length slowly, curving your wrist just how he liked it. He pulled away from your kiss with a heave, a growl leaving his throat as he saw the teasing look in your eyes.

“Think you can play with me after all that’s happened today? Watching all those men stare like you’re a piece of meat? You do this after I licked your pretty cunt? No, Bonnie, your going to take my cock like a good obedient princess.”

You didn’t have time to teasingly retaliate, instead you could only gasp as his head slid unforgivably into your heat, a low moan leaving the both of you at the joining. His hands guided your hips, until all of him was sunk around your fluttering walls. He paused, glancing up to see if you were alright.

“I can’t help their stares, I did-” his finger found your lips, pausing your words.

“Don’t speak of them when your full of my cock, eh?”

You couldn’t help but nod, rolling your hips against him in a slow way that mimicked the words “yes I understand. Only you can see me like this.”

“Good.” He aired, his hands once again finding your hips as he roughly guided you against his own bucking hips, starting a fast pace that had your eyes fluttering shut and soft coos leaving your mouth involuntarily.

“That’s it, princess.” He praised, a hand leaving your hip to play with your breasts that threatened to spill out from your undone corset. His palm squeezed the sensitive flesh, sending shockwaves down your skin and goosebumps to rise in ecstasy.

You picked up speed, now rising inches off the straw covered ground before slamming back down upon his length. He cursed, adam’s apple bobbing as his tip met the start of your womb. A ravishing hunger filled your very souls, only satisfied by your intertwined touch and the sound of squelching skin.

He gripped you harder, his climax drawling to a burning close. You felt the all familiar tightening again, knowing that John would only stop fucking you until you finished around his swollen cock.

“You going to cum for me, princess?” He growled, hand falling under your skirts to draw slow circles upon your puffy clit with his calloused thumb.

“Yes!” His circling thumb pushed you over the edge, along with the deep and ruthless plunges of his cock, your eyes fluttered shut, just as your vision blurred from pure ecstasy. Your knight clenched his teeth, but could hardly contain his whine as he plowed deeply, spilling into you warmly.

Together the two of you heaved, lost in each other and not wanting to break your intertwined hold quite yet. You settled, bringing a palm to John’s sweaty cheek as his eyes fluttered shut.

“I love you.” You whispered, stroking the skin in all the passion you could muster.

“Well…. Isn’t this sweet?” A shadow hissed into the night, startling the two of you as you struggled to get up off of your knight in horrified shock.

Before you could separate your hold, your hair was tugged from behind, forcing you to stand and whimper at the fiery hold. Your knight struggled to stand, hastily making himself decent before scanning for a weapon. Except it was too late.

A dagger pressed coldly to your flaming jugular, halting John in place as he glared holes into your captor. You glanced downward, noticing the hand had familiar jeweled rings upon his digits.

Graves.

Bile threatened to expel as John attempted to step forward, until the dagger drew blood and the sharp sting made a lone tear fall down your cheek.

“Ah, ah. Stay where you are, or I kill the whore.” Graves threatened, holding his ground and forcing John to stay planted where he was.

King Graves tutted, a disappointed clicking noise that traveled from his chest to your back in vibrations.

“I always figured you were a whore, had the looks of one. But with your knight…” he laughed, no humor behind his tone as John switched between glaring and panic between the two of you. “You’ve just handed me another kingdom on a golden platter. Once the King knows of this scandal your knight will be hung, and you will be cast out as a whore, unfit for any royalty. That will leave the Kingdom to me, after I kill your worthless father.” Graves growled, a playful lit to his voice as you silently cried.

“Don’t cry….” Graves cooed heartlessly, pressing himself into you with a dull hunger. Your knight growled, eyes darkening as he could only helplessly watch.

All at once, you felt the shallow cut of the blade as a dull shrunk came from behind you, you leant forward at the lack of pressure, knowing you were no longer held captive as John rushed to your side, examining you for any horrific injuries.

You could only turn and watch as Graves’ body fell to the ground, a shrouded figure holding a knife shadowed the area, another person standing close to him as well. One wore a signature mask pulled up to his lips, the other was flushed a pink color, much like you had been before.

König and Horangi.

They had saved you.

“Go. Before your father sends out hounds looking for you.” Horangi spoke, voice airy as he subtly placed a hand upon König’s waist. Huh. Maybe they wouldn’t be so devastated as to not have your hand in marriage.

Tears welled in your eyes as realization set in. You were really doing this, really running away from all the blasphemy that was royalty. You could be free, could be with your John as you always hoped. It would be hard, but your mind was settled the moment you kissed your knight for the first time.

“Thank you.”

A steel knife sliced its way across stew vegetables. It was amateur chopping at best, but you’ve been practicing for the oncoming winter.

With a hum, you moved to place the potatoes into your pot of boiling cream. The fire burned comfortably in the small cottage made by hand. Stones were masoned expertly to create a fireplace, among with the strong boards of Oak to keep out the salty sprays from the sea.

The door opened with a creak, cold air blowing into the homey space in frozen waves. You suppressed a shiver, but felt warm at the sight of your husband.

He held a stack of firewood in his arms, biceps bulging as he placed the logs down into the crate next to the flames. He shook from the cold, but it seemed he was already warmer as his crystalline eyes locked with yours. It had been two days since he had left for a hunt, the longest you’ve gone without seeing him as of late.

John was growing nervous as the days grew shorter. With the shortening days, came the higher probability of giving birth.

“How are ye’, flower?” Your husband asked eyes falling to your swollen belly with so much love that your face couldn’t help but break out into a smile.

“I say we are better now that you are home.”

John laughed heartily, the sound booming through the whole cottage as he hugged his family close to him.

#cod #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #call of duty #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #john soap MacTavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish

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thesith · 2 months

Text

— Holove

bad batch x gn!reader (platonic), implied crosshair x reader

this is a one shot (1k)

warnings: 18+ for insinuations, cursing

notes: thought this idea was funny! i tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible, let me know if there are any slip ups! this hasn’t been edited or proofread.

summary: you, echo, hunter, wrecker, and tech play smash or pass with your newly made holove (tinder) account.

“Give me your holopad,” Hunter asked you, “there’s a game I want to download.”

You gave him a look, “You have your own, Hunter. Download it on yours.” You pulled your device close to your chest to assure he doesn’t get it.

So of course he tackled you and won, typing in your password to access the holostore. You gave up and opted to watch whatever the hell he’s doing from over his shoulder. When you watched him type ‘Holove’ into the search bar, you attempted to snatch your holopad back.

“Hunter what the fuck? That’s a dating app, not a game.”

His reaction time was fast, pulling the holopad above both of your heads as it downloaded. “It’s called Holove roulette. It’s like Smash or Pass that we can all play!”

“Then why does it have to be on my holopad!” You huffed and crossed your arms, knowing that there was nothing you could do. “Why don’t you use your own? Or Wrecker’s?”

“Our faces are too well-known - you’re anonymous on missions! We’re also… you know… clones,” he attempted to explain, “also it would be fun to know who thinks our teammate is gorgeous, other than us.”

You didn’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult, but you didn’t care. The game sounded fun enough to play, even if it was just a game. “Fine, at least let me help make my own profile.”

The images you chose consisted of a couple selfies from your bunk, a portrait from Pabu, and an image with a cute animal you saw on one of the many planets you’d visited with the crew. You made sure none of your images had their armor nor faces in them and turned the holopad for Hunter to see.

His eyes widened, “Smash or Pass: Hunter.”

You laughed before getting to work on the remainder of your bio. “What the fuck does A/S/L mean?”

“Let me see.” Hunter asked, to which you handed him the holopad, “Aurebesh Sign Language? I don’t know…”

Tech walked into the room at the perfect time, “Aurebesh is an alphabet, not a language. If I’m correct, which I am seldom not, A/S/L means age, sex, location. Did you coerce them, Hunter?”

”You’re in on this?” You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “Next you’re gonna say Wrecker and Echo are too.”

“You betcha!” Wrecker hollered from the pilot’s seat, accompanied by “it sounds like fun” from Echo. You expected the latter to be on your side, but you were proven wrong.

“What do I even put for location? We’re everywhere…”

Tech glanced at the holopad, “I do not think it’s wise to say Ordd Mantell, even if most of our time is spent there. Perhaps a sector? Ordd Mantell lies on a cross-section of three sectors, Bright Jewel, Qiilura, and Dohu along three separate hyperspace trade routes, Celanon Spur, Burke’s Trailing, and Entralla.”

“Bright Jewel sounds pretty. What’s in that sector?” You asked, hoping you could say a planet from there.

“Ordd Mantell serves as the sector capital, but Aleen, Numidian Prime, Anobis, and Jarnollen, to name a few.”

“Hunter, write down Numidian Prime. That’s a planet I’ve actually heard of.”

Tech fixed the goggles on his face, “your potential suitors will conclude that you’re a bounty hunter if you say that.” He paused to inspect your seemingly content face, “To each their own, I suppose.”

“Now, any ideas for the bio?”

“In my research, I’ve concluded most dating application profiles include things the person enjoys. A very common one is ‘I enjoy long walks on the beach’.” Tech expertly replied, giving you all the right ideas.

“I like shooting things! And running from the Empire!” You gleefully replied, earning yourself looks of disappointment from Hunter and Tech.

“Well, that fits the profile of a Numidian Prime inhabitant.”

Hunter sighed, “maybe we don’t say that. What about flying? You like flying, right?”

That made you audibly laugh, “you two never let me fly the Marauder!”

His reply came quickly, “Hey, it’s a better idea than ‘I like shooting things’!”

Tech thought for a moment, “How about travelling? I recall that you immensely enjoy our times on different planets, even if we are being targeted with less than optimal intentions the majority of the time.”

“That’ll work!” You were getting increasingly more interested in creating your profile, as were your crewmates. Maybe this would be more fun than you thought.

“What gender?”

You leaned over his shoulder to check ‘all’ before leaning back, “also, increase the range to the furthest it will go. More options that way.”

Soon after that, your profile was finally completed. Omega was long asleep, so you joined Hunter, Echo, Tech, and Wrecker in the cockpit to finally play.

You set the holopad on the ground between the five of you so everybody could see the screen. “Okay, ready?”

The first few were straight passes from everybody - you were not into Gungans nor droids.

“Holy shit, is that Fennec Shand?”

The boys laughed as Tech inspected it closer - it absolutely was her.

“Pass.” “Smash.” “Pass.” “Pass.” “Smash.”

“Are we just gonna forget that she tried to take Omega from us? Also tried to kill us? Multiple times?”

Wrecker tried to explain his reasoning as to why he said smash, “She was hired to do that! I like a woman who can handle a weapon.”

“This game is based on looks - we would’ve all said smash if we didn’t know her. Stop shaking your head, Hunter.”

A few more rounds went by before a familiar face popped on the screen, earning gasps from everybody. Hunter grabbed the holopad with a white-knuckle grip, swiping through his brother’s posted images.

“Is that who I think it is?” You asked, the wide-eyed looks from those who surrounded you telling you everything you needed to know. “Holy shit, Crosshair is on Hololove?” You managed to snatch the pad from the Sergeant, looking at Cross’ profile. “Oh, so he can say that he likes to shoot things but I can’t?”

The brothers remained silent, not knowing what to do with this newfound information. You did, though.

You swiped right, “Smash.”

A ding came from your holopad - ‘It’s a match!’

fin.

thank you for reading! check out my masterlist!

#bad batch x reader #the bad batch #sw tbb #bad batch #the bad batch crosshair #tbb crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair x reader #tbb hunter #tbb tech #xena’s fics

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leighsartworks216 · 6 months

Text

My Dearest Prince

Astarion x male!Tav/Reader

Got this idea and frantically wrote it down before passing out last night. Another specifically male!Tav/Reader because I wanted it to be idk

Because this is a Royalty au, Astarion is not a vampire. Maybe I'll do another one where he is, one day

Warnings: arranged marriage, marriage proposal, secret relationship, brief smut, light hurt/comfort, idk how royalty works

Word Count: 1,971

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Astarion could barely fight the smirk that dared to cross his face as you, the prince of another kingdom, came to stand before him. Something secretive shone in his eyes, translatable only by you, donned in gleaming royal armor, a polished silver accented by brilliant blue regalia. You fought back a grin as well.

With a hand over your chest, you bowed your head respectfully. Though of the same status, you were visiting his kingdom. Or, rather, the kingdom he would inherit as soon as he was wed.

"Your highness," you greeted, almost a purr. Astarion really couldn't fight his smirk as he offered his hand out to you. You grinned as you supported it from below and guided it to your lips, barely bowing down to meet it. You stared directly into his eyes, lips brushing against his gloved knuckles. Astarion thrilled, imagining your kiss against his bare skin. A whisper, so silent the courtiers and potential suitors would not hear: "My prince."

The moment doesn't last. You pull away, standing up straight, and his hand falls back to his side.

"You are a welcome sight within these walls," Astarion croons, chin raised haughtily. "I trust you will enjoy the night."

You grin. "I most certainly will."

With another low bow of your head, you retreat back into the throng - partygoers not here to celebrate, but to woo the young prince of Baldur's Gate. They batted their eyelashes and winked and purred low, but none of them caught his eye like you.

After years of doing this, you and Astarion had come up with ways to secretly communicate with each other without betraying your manners. 'I trust you will enjoy the night' was not a simple pleasantry, it was a preposition. 'I most certainly will' was an agreement, accepting the offer.

Astarion would have loved nothing more than to run after you as you discreetly slipped out of the ballroom. He would relish in pressing you against a wall and marking you up, claiming you right there where everyone could see you. Kissing and biting and sucking just so until you keened his name loudly, the echo reaching everyone who could not witness the spectacle.

Alas, he was trapped here. At least until such a time it would seem inconspicuous to retire to his chambers. He counted the seconds.

Quiet grunts caught his attention. He tossed his book aside in an instant and raced to the balcony. (It was mostly to distract his racing thoughts, though it didn't help much.) He leaned over the bannister with a bright smile.

You, now in relatively simple attire, pulled yourself up the side of the palace with the strong vines that had claimed the wall. His gardeners asked if he wanted them removed, but he just said they added a rather lovely element of nature amongst the polished marvel. Eventually they stopped asking.

In no time at all, you reached the top, hands on the bannister by his, holding yourself up as you smiled with boyish glee. "Good evening, my prince."

Astarion grabbed onto the front of your shirt, nails scraping against fine embroidery. He didn't give a damn about it. "How long I've waited to taste you again," he sighed, tugging you up over the rail. You eagerly followed him, feet barely on solid ground before he was pulling you inside.

You cup his face, hands slotting familiarly against his jaw, eagerly pulling him close until your nose brushed his. He tugged your body to press against his. "You looked so gorgeous in your finery, my love." Your hot breaths fan against his lips, you're so close. "I wasn't sure I could contain myself."

Astarion growled, desperate. "Please, don't hold back any longer."

Your lips crashed together, rushed and passionate. Noses pressed roughly to cheeks, lips and tongues trying to get you ever closer. It was not close enough. You whined against his lips.

As though in a dance, he pulled you with him to the bed. Your hands strayed from his jaw long enough to grab his thighs and lift him onto it, resting him so you could stand between his legs. You didn't stand for long, opting instead to lean on your knee pressed between his legs, pressing up against his crotch. Astarion groaned, rolling his hips against the pressure automatically.

Deft hands undid decorative buttons, slipping beneath the frivolous patterns to touch your skin. His hands were always so cold; you shivered as they ran over your stomach.

Within only a few moments, you were stripped bare before him. Your lips rarely disconnected, pants and longing sounds becoming lost in the other's throat.

He grabbed your hips and in one smooth movement had you laying on his bed as he knelt over you, as you had done to him before. The fabric of his clothes rubbed against your already-hot skin, igniting a fire in its wake. You hurriedly helped him undress.

Fully bare, he crawled with you to the center of the bed, guiding you with a hand that trailed along your side. Your head hit his pillow, and he pulled away breathless, trailing kisses along your jaw.

"Gods, I missed this," he whispered into your skin. "Missed you." He brushed a thumb along your nipple and ground his hips down, your cocks rubbing together and twitching with stimulation.

You dug your nails into his hip, guiding him as he continued. You whined and whimpered with each pass. Your other hand gripped tightly onto his hair. "Show me all the ways you've thought about me, my love," you breathed. "My body and soul are yours."

He groaned against your neck, biting where he knew the mark would not be seen. "I would have you here all night."

"And I shall not regret it come morning."

The sun hung low in the sky, slowly rising to wake the city. You and Astarion were already awake, and had been for most the night. His body was draped along yours, head resting on your chest with his arms clinging onto you. You played lazily with his hair, which was such a pretty mess after being tugged on so much.

These nights never lasted long enough. Secret rendezvous that only came a few times a month, if they were lucky. But soon enough, people would notice the prince's ongoing avoidance for picking a partner to rule by his side. They would notice his lingering glances and salacious smiles. It was only a matter of time.

He sighed against your chest as the morning rays crawled up his legs, but his mind was far from the events planned for today. Though, the subject of betrothal did not change. He turned his head to press a delicate kiss over your heart.

"You haven't told her yet, have you?"

Your whole body tensed. You always despised talking about your fiancée. "No." You press your face into his mess of curls. He holds you tighter. "I fear what would happen if I did."

He huffed bitterly. "You fear her disgust, learning that you lay with me."

"No." You pull back, cupping his cheek and guiding him to look at you. Your face is set in a strong frown. "No opinion of you could ever dissuade me; not hers, nor any kingdom's. If she despises the thought, then she will have to content herself with it every day for the rest of our lives."

His sharp eyes, blue with flecks of gold, study your face. The furrow in your brow. The line of your lips. The determination in your eyes. He sees the exact moment your features soften, as a melancholy takes over.

"I fear telling her would draw me further from you," you whisper, like speaking the words too loudly would make them come true. You brush your thumb along his cheek. "Forced to wither away in my own kingdom, never allowed to see your face again or kiss your lips. When we wed, she will have as much power as I, and if she knew of you... I fear she would deny me of you forever."

Astarion says nothing for a while. You can see the distance in his eyes as he formulates schemes, plans to free you from your engagement. Soon enough, he leans up and gently kisses you. He tastes of wine and citrus. You could drink it in forever.

"I could be your concubine," he murmurs against your lips.

You chuckle despite yourself. He smirks into the kiss. Your arms reposition themselves, wrapping around his waist to keep him safe and supported. "I would parade you around the city. You'd sit in my lap during meetings. My generals would have to translate my words as I etch them against your neck." Further solidifying your point, you trail your lips down to his neck, kissing languidly against his pulse.

He hums. "You make it sound so tempting, my love."

The sun shines upon his back now. You can feel the warmth lingering in his skin as you run your fingers along his spine. Your time together is waning. You roll over, taking him with you, until you lay on your sides. You curl around him, face buried in his shoulder, and cling to the minutes you have left. He cradles the back of your neck and wraps his leg over yours, pulling you ever closer.

He brushes his lips against your ear. "I could ask you to marry me."

"I am already betrothed."

"All they want is a wedding and a ruler; they don't care who you marry."

"We would be torn between our kingdoms."

"I know for a fact you have a sister you can pass the throne to." You huff against his shoulder. He grins. "Let her marry your fiancée."

You rub your thumbs into his still-warm back. You want to hold him forever. You don't want to pull away, don your royal colors, disappear back to your kingdom for another month.

You carefully pull your face back to meet his eyes, wishing to look at him and solidify his face further in your memories. He leans forward to rest his forehead against yours.

"I would ask for your hand in a heartbeat," he whispers. He finds one of your hands and leads it to rest over his heart. It beats solidly in his chest. It beats for you. "And you would never be caged. You could travel as far as you wish, as long as you promised to come back. Every soul in both our kingdoms would know how utterly, irrevocably in love with you I am. Not a night would go by that you are not loved, wishing for a better life with someone else. You-"

You cut him off with a kiss. It is soft and passionate all at once. The sun casts her rays over your faces. Your cheeks are warmed with her gentle caress, as are your beloved's. Even when you pull away to speak, your eyes remain closed, taking in every other sensation of him - his scent, his taste, the sounds of his breaths, the plush of his flesh beneath your fingertips.

“Being with you is all I could ever wish for.” You chastely kiss him again, as though to remind yourself he is still there in your arms and open to all the affection you can lavish on him. “When I return to my kingdom, I will give up my throne and terminate my engagement. I would give up the stars in the sky to be with you, my one.”

He cups your face, running a thumb under you eye to coax you to look at him. Both of your eyes are glossy. For far too long, you have hidden your love away. “My dearest prince,” he breathes, “will you marry me?”

“Yes. Gods, yes.”

---

Tag List:

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fandoms-writings · 1 year

Note

Okokok so this could be for knight bucky 👀

(if reader is like a queen or princess), Bucky is in charge of your safety, he's always near and one day he escorts you to the gardens for a walk and him and reader are alone and he's so tempted to grab your hand!!!! It's aching to know what it's like to feel your skin against his (hand scene from Pride and prejudice iykyk🤭)

carrot you genius

i definitely followed this prompt pretty loosely and it kinda took on a form of it's own but i hope you enjoy it <3

Yes, Your Grace

Part 2 | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Knight!Bucky x Queen!Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: a little bit of angst, but that's honestly about it.

You never lasted too long at galas, especially when they weren't in your own kingdom.

Not having the familiarity of your staff. The smell of salt in the air as the ocean breeze washed in through your open corridor. The certain click of your shoes against the marble floors. It was all yours and safe and commonplace.

Being in someone else's kingdom, at an event where everyone wants a chance to dance with the unwed queen was exhausting. You almost never left the dance floor with how many suitors were trying to win you over, to take the seat of King next to you. You never enjoyed any of them though. You knew they were just in it for the title, the power. Most of them not believing you should be able to rule on your own. That it was sacrilege that you still remained unwed.

But you put on a brave face, a large fake smile to appease them and to keep the peace. If you didn't provoke them, it gave them no reason to storm your castle's walls.

The exhaustion was evident on your face as James watched you from the sidelines. He was to have eyes on you at all times, especially since you weren't in your own home. He was your protector, hand picked by your father before he passed to be your personal knight until you relieved him or reassigned him. You had yet to do either in the five years he'd been by your side.

His armor clinked as he made his way to you, mindful not to bump into anyone with the bulky metal. Expertly moving through the sea of royals, he paced his steps with the musicians playing in the corner - he'd practiced this dance with you too many times to count. You'd wanted a partner to brush up on your skills and you'd asked him one day during your breakfast. That was the closest he'd ever been to you for that long.

Your dance partner spun you out from their arm and towards James, who gave you a knowing look when you spotted him. He smirked at the pleading in your eyes and quickened his pace, stopping next to you.

"Pardon me, Lord Wilson, I was wondering if I could steal her grace for a moment," He requested, the tone in his voice really leaving no room for argument. He watched as you curtsied and the lord bowed to you before you turned and grabbed James's elbow, allowing him to lead you outside.

"I thought you might like a breath of fresh air," He leaned down a bit so you could hear his whispers as you passed other attendants. "I could tell you weren't enjoying the way Lord Wilson was spinning you around the floor.

The noise that left your lips was a mix between a scoff and a laugh and it pulled James lips into a smile as he looked down at you.

Your hand slipped from his elbow and he let you walk just a step in front of him. You glanced over your shoulder, "I appreciate the concern, as always, Sir James."

"I thought we discussed this," He started, following you as you wandered the gardens that, in his opinion, could never rival your own, "I requested you not to call me James."

"You did," You smirked, stopping at a stone railing that overlooked the small pond as you turned to face him entirely, leaning against the stone, "but I do love seeing you in a fit over it."

"I'd hardly call me reminding her highness of my request a fit," He chuckled as he stood just out of reach, which you took notice of. You always did.

"Why are you standing over there," you asked, your smile slipping, "I won't bite."

He gave you an easy smile, soaking in your attention, basking in it.

It wasn't that you never gave it to him or that you were stingy with it. In fact, it was quite the opposite. You were always speaking with him. He accompanied you everywhere you went, so why wouldn't you? What kind of queen would you be if you didn't speak with your personal knight at all while he protected you?

You two had grown close over the years, your relationship becoming more of one between friends rather than one of subordinate and superior. And James didn't mind one bit. He'd never tell anyone, for risk of being reassigned away from you, but he loved you.

He was in love with you.

He had been for years and it was one of the many reasons that he was so persistent about protecting you, even when you told him to get some rest - he'd just sit on the floor outside your chamber doors those nights. You started having Steve switch with him at night so he could sleep too, but he'd only sleep for a handful of hours and get washed up before coming back to switch again.

You held your hand out to him, waiting for his gloved fingers to gently grasp yours. He did so, but at the expense of the tug in his chest.

In all his years of serving you, he'd never touched you. He always made sure something was between the two of you, his gloves, your fur coat, something.

It wasn't that he didn't want to touch you, he was actually dying to do so. He dreamed of the day that he could feel your skin against his, but he didn't want to taint your perfectly smooth complexion with his dirtied callouses. You deserved someone with a softer touch than his own. You deserved someone's hands who hadn't been covered in blood and dirt and grime and sin.

He let you guide him to stand next to you, waiting for you to drop his hand, but you continued to hold on to it, absently fiddling with the leather covering his skin. God, what he wouldn't do to be able to actually hold your hand. To brush elbows. To feel your fingers on his arm as he led you around town.

"Jamie?" He glanced up from your fingers to see you staring at the still water of the pond.

"Yes, your highness?"

It was a moment before you responded, but you didn't look over at him. Instead, you gazed down at the stone under your fingertips, scratching your nail along its surface - something he knew you did when you were nervous.

"Do you think they're right?" If he hadn't been waiting with baited breath, he would've missed the question with how quiet you were. He figured you didn't want anyone else hearing your conversation so he dipped his head lower towards your ear.

"What about?"

"About me," You glanced up at him then, causing his heart to almost leap out of his chest. He'd never been close like this. Close enough to speak in hushed tones, sure, but never enough to see the details in your irises, the individual lashes that brushed against your cheeks when you blinked. "Do you agree that I'm some - some mad woman to not be married? To not have a husband to do the ruling while I give him heirs?"

"Well," he started, testing the waters and giving your fingers a gentle squeeze, "I guess that depends on why you have yet to wed someone."

You were silent at that as you refused to look away, but you squoze his fingers back, gripping his hand as you pulled it closer to you.

He wanted to pull away from you, surely this close proximity would bring more talk about you to the other royals. Someone of your standing shouldn't be this close to him, holding his hand, noses almost touching.

Yet, here you were.

"I fear someone may already have my heart," You stated, glancing between his eyes. A pit formed in his chest and he had to ignore the ache as he steadied his breathing.

Of course you had your eye on someone. With as many potential suitors as you had, how could you not already have a certain person in mind? But that left the question - why hadn't you wed them yet? Surely, whoever had caught your eye would be pleased to wed you. Who wouldn't was the better question.

"Why haven't you wed them yet, your grace?" He gruffly asked, swallowing down the sudden surge of emotion in his throat. He was your personal knight - he couldn't let something like this break him down. Especially when you were not within your own palace walls. He had to remain calm and collected, at least until you retired for the evening. Then he could let the cracks spread until morning.

You tipped your head down to look at his chest as you placed your free hand over the armor there, your nails gently tapping against the metal. "That's a sensitive conversation that shouldn't be held outside of our home walls, don't you think?"

You looked back up at him, almost craning your neck with your proximity. He nodded, dazed at how your voice sounded when you said 'our home.' It wasn't the first time you'd referred to it like that, you did both live there. But there was something about the way your voice lightened when you said it. Like it was lifting a weight off your chest saying you wanted to tell him your secret. And though he may not be ready to hear who'd stolen your affections, a sense of pride filled him. You trusted him enough to tell him this secret of yours.

And even if he wasn't ready to hear it, he'd protect that secret with his life if need be. Because it'd be for you.

He nodded, muttering a word of agreement and you smiled, but it lingered longer than usual. The corners of your mouth stayed lifted as you pried your gaze from his and released his hand, turning back to the path. You took a couple steps away before looking back over your shoulder at him, your smile ever-present.

"Let us go home, shall we?" You asked.

He shoved his nerves down as far as they'd go, steeling himself in preparation for your secret, and nodded once.

"Yes, your grace." He stepped away from the pond to follow you to the waiting carriage.

He knew the time would come when you'd find a proper suitor, he couldn't expect you to stay unwed forever.

He just didn't expect it to hurt as much as it did.

#knight!bucky #knight!bucky x queen!reader #queen!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x f!reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfiction #royal au

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brittle-doughie · 1 month

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OH GOD THERE'S TWO OF THEM

hiiii Brittle, its me, Blue Bird Anon! I come bearing gifts of cookie sprites! Crowned Cupcake Cookie (based on Runebrave's lovely design) and her brother of my own creation, Royal Icing Cookie. I had a lot of fun designing and drawing them so I hope you and everyone enjoy as well! (pssst also my art blog is scarabeeart ;3)

I saw an anon guess that Royal Icing was the pure opposite of his sister, and while that wasn't my original concept for him, I thought the contrast between the two would be a very funny idea hjggffg him being a totally normal, genuinely good guy while his sister is. like that.

But the idea I had for him was a classic prince charming, but with the levels cranked to 11. Brave, chivalrous, humble, generous, rides a white horse, he's got it all! All he wants is to sweep Y/N Cookie off their feet like in a romantic fairy tale and ride into the sunset for their perfect happily ever after together <3 May let the prince charming thing go to his head as he has a secret hero complex and will often put Y/N Cookie into danger purely just so he can heroically swoop in and rescue them. And while his sister is more physical with her use of force to chase away those who get too close to Y/N Cookie, Royal Icing is more manipulative and unhanded. Not above willing to plant fake evidence on other suitors and use it as a way to turn Y/N against them and only trust him. "These Cookies are merely trying to marry you only to claim the throne, they want to usurp you, your adviser is scheming and plotting against you" and all the other fairy tale tropes. Will never fess up to sneaking around because his perfect prince image is incredibly important to him. You trust him, right? He's your fiance! Your prince charming, your knight in shining armor. Of course he wouldn't lie to you <3

(hehe sorry for writing so much! I've been thinking about this for too long hjgfhjgf)

First of all.

That’s some damn incredible work you made here. You are getting a follow from me!

Crowned Cupcake now actually looks like canon compared to my more simple style! She’s even pulling a Cherry Blossom with that triangle mouth there!

Royal Icing too! He looks just as amazing, definitely the charismatic type that no cookie would doubt has a dark side to him! Both of them are just wonderfully done and I really appreciate you taking the time out of your day to do this!

I did think about Icing being exactly like his sister rather than being a kind soul, with him taking the more psychological approach rather then the brute forcing Crowned would do. He’s willing to play any card in his hand to turn it in his favor, even if it meant falsely accusing other cookies if it meant getting them of the picture.

You would trust him more at first. After all, he hadn’t done anything wrong to warrant any kind of suspicion on him! These liars can’t prove anything against your Prince, so you’ll take his side more often then not.

Overall, this is spectacular and I greatly appreciate the work that was done here!

#brittle answers #cookie run x you #cookie run x reader #cr x reader #cookie run oc #cookie oc #oc cookie #royal icing cookie #crowned cupcake cookie #crowned cupcake cookie x reader

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 2 years

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Tim gets cursed and turned into a swan and must find a prince or princess to kiss him or he'll be trapped as a swan forever. Unfortunately for the magic users, Tim didn't take being turned into a literal bird lightly and attacked them with his newly acquired beak (I mean. Its a swan. They should have expected this.) The magic user- clearly not well versed in bird attacks- started flailing and threw random things and spells at Tim in an attempt to escape.

This is how Tim found himself in the Ghost Zone as a swan.

---

Meanwhile, the rest of the bats find and capture the magic user and find Tim's Red Robin uniform discarded on the ground. At first they thought he was hiding somewhere due to being, ya know, naked. But the magic user idioticly boasted that they turned him into a swan.

After making sure the person couldn't hurt anyone else they turned them in to the authorities and gathered Red Robins things and began looking for him. How hard can it be to find a swan?

Apparently pretty hard when it's in another dimension.

----

Danny was currently hating his afterlife.

He was the first prince the zone had had in several eons and everyone and thier dog wanted to gawk at him. It definitely didn't help that he's been drowning in marriage requests since he turned 15. He was way too young to get married but some peopled seemed to disagree.

Like the Elderan kingdom and their very pushy princess. They had come over again tonight as guests to "discuss the political climate between thier kingdoms" which he knew was a power play because as the high prince thier kingdom was a part of his kingdom and Danny was about ready to slap one of them. Preferably the king, but the princess was a good second. Hes almost certain she was stalking him.

Danny wanted to stay locked in his room in the castle for as long as he could get away with, which is how he got a first hand view of a very much alive swan flying in from the balcony and staring daggers into his soul from Dannys own bed.

Tim saw Danny in his black and white armor and black crown and made a beeline for the balcony window. If this guy was a prince then he was Tim ticket to being defeathered once and for all. Then he could figure out a way out of this crazy place. The vigilante turned birds menace flew strait at the prince, pressing his little feathered head against the princes mouth, effectively stealing a kiss and reverting back to a human.

After a few embarrassing moments of Tim making a toga out of the princes bedsheets, he explained what happened.

Danny puts his newfound political training to use and scores not only a possible alliance with a group calling themselves the Justice League, but also manages to convince Tim to enter a fake engagement with him as Red Robin so that he can ditch the suitors. All it cost Danny was a ride back to Tim's home world, a bit of tech and some weapons.

Needless to say when Tim returned to the batcave via portal with supernatural tech, a glowing bedsheets toga and a freaking fake relationship fiance, the batclan lost thier collective minds.

Nightwing: You ditched your clothes for an hour and came back with a husband

Red Robin: Fiance.

Nightwing: I'm so proud.

Red Robin: Its a fake relationship anyway

Nightwing: For now ;]

#fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny phantom #danny fenton #tim drake x danny fenton #tim drake #red robin #brain dead #fake relationship #fake dating #ghost king au #ghost prince au #dp x dc #gz alliance with justice league #nightwing is over here wiggling his eyebrows at tim #he gets a pillow to the face for his efforts #cass is best sister #shes the one who threw it

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five-miles-over · 7 months

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Tom Hiddleston Characters: How They Would Propose (To You)

(Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or images. This is just a fun listicle, not designed to offend anyone. As always, please feel free to leave comments and/or constructive criticism below. Thank you, and without any further ado, please enjoy!)

Characters in this list: Will Ransome, King Henry V, Prince Loki Odinson, Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim, Bill Hazeldine, Coriolanus, Jonathan Pine, Robert Laing, Magnus Martinsson, Oakley, Thomas Sharpe, James Conrad, and Jaguar Villain! Tom Hiddleston.

Also, my sincerest apologies - they all turned into mini-fics.

Will Ransome from The Essex Serpent

Reverend Will would propose to you after a Sunday roast dinner, after your family invited him to your home. You were helping to clear the table with the rest of the ladies in your family when Will coughed to announce his presence. At once, everyone cleared the dining room, leaving you alone with the vicar.

"A word please?" He politely called you by name, his hands clasped in front of him. Will sat you down in one of the empty chairs. Gods how he wanted to reach out and tuck one of your stray hairs behind your ear in that very moment, one of the intimate things that he longed to do with you. Intimate things that would be proper in the eyes of God if you were his lawfully wedded wife. He did not sit down, and gently began talking to you. "For some time, I have been charmed by you. Not just your looks, that is not to say that you are not a lovely woman. You are most lovely, but I have also been charmed by your kindness, your humility, and your…virtue."

Will knelt before you, looking up with the most earnest gaze. "If you will bestow upon me the fortune of being your husband, then in return I shall do everything to keep you safe and comfortable. I shall speak to your father, and we will be wedded in holy matrimony. You and I shall walk together upon this path of life, and I have no doubt that a virtuous woman like you will aid me in carrying out what the Lord decrees of us. My sweetest, please say that you will marry me."

Henry V from The Hollow Crown

With Henry, there was not much of a proposal to begin with. The marriage between you and the King of England was arranged by your father and his men, along with the king and his men. Still, Henry coaxed your father into having at least one private audience with you before the wedding ceremonies, so that he may properly court you as any suitor would.

'My dearest lady," Henry began as soon as he was alone with you in his study while your father and his men stood vigil outside. "Lower thy veil, and let me behold your face." He reached forward and removed the hood of your cloak, smiling as he beheld your beauty for the first time. "Cheeks rosier than the flowers that bloom in springtime. Your lips and eyes are so enticing, they call to me like sirens. Yours is a face that I shall never tire of seeing.

I confess to you, my lady, that words are not my greatest strength. Were it so easy that I could simply strap on armor or fire an arrow into a target or vault into my saddle for a wife, I should quickly vault for a wife. Alas, tis not so. For a woman's heart is truly one of the most difficult conquests to embark upon. Nevertheless, tis a conquest that I shall duly pursue if you can deign to love me.

If you can love such a man as me, someone whose words are not their strongest suit and someone whose fidelity to you is true, then take me. Take a soldier, and in taking a soldier, you will take a king." Henry knelt before you and offered you his hand. "Sweetest of all maidens, canst thou love me?"

Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard

"I have called you to discuss a matter of great importance, my lady." Loki enunciated the formal title at the end in an attempt to conceal the butterflies in his stomach. He summoned you to the palace gardens at the house before twilight, when the sky would be decorated with streaks of orange and pink. You walked alongside him through the bushes and the groves of flowers. Loki clasped his hands behind her back, walking as if he ruled every inch of earth on which he stepped.

He continued, "Yes, tis true that Thor, my brother, is the one whom my father has decreed to ascend the throne of Asgard," The younger prince of Asgard looked forward with a solemn expression while you listened with intrigue. "But he is incompetent." Loki turned to you. "He is idiotic and brash. You know as well as I do that he does not encompass the values of a king.

"Was he not the one who wished to invade Jotunheim alone, my prince?" You stopped in your tracks, just as the sun began setting into the horizon behind you.

"Yes, he was. It was all his idea, my lady." Loki did not bother to include his role in instigating Thor, it would not help him in this moment whatsoever. If he delayed this moment any further, he was convinced the words would be stuck in his throat, forever unable to escape. "You are one of the few people with whom I can share these thoughts, my lady." He sighed, his gaze fixated upon you and your beauty. "It is why I have called you here. In the coming future, I will need to protect Asgard from my brother's foolishness. And for that I should like to have a worthy companion by my side."

Loki conjured a shining dagger with a gold hilt out of thin air and promptly fell to one knee before you. The hilt of the dagger was engraved with the words, 'Min hærr, duonningen av mitt hjerte' (My beloved, Queen of my heart) Still on bended knee, Loki looked up at you with an expression of innocence that you never knew existed within him - wide eyes, baited breath, a meek expression. As if all his life were being wagered on a single thing right now.

"I wish to make you my wife," Loki declared, his lips trembling. "Should you accept, I will bring my proposal to your family, and then we will be wed with due ceremony. And if you decide otherwise, then I shall…" he swallowed, "I shall respect your choice."

Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim from the Marvel Cinematic Universe

"This looks like something stolen from the Graham Norton Show." You raised an eyebrow when Loki handed you an orange and purple card.

"It's a scavenger hunt." Loki said with a twinkle in his eye. "Every clue leads you to the next one."

"I know how a scavenger hunt works, Loki." You rolled your eyes and flipped over the card. "Was this your idea, or is this some ridiculous team-bonding activity put together by Steve Rogers?"

"No. You see,…I have some errands to do, but at the same time, I have an obligatory excursion with the Lady Valkyrie."

You crossed your arms. "So why the scavenger hunt?"

Loki brightly answered. "Well, it makes the errands all the more fun!"

"Alright, but you owe me, Loki."

"Good girl." The God of Mischief kissed you not the cheek and disappeared into thin air.

You glanced down and saw that the first card, which told you to pick up six cupcakes ordered under Loki's name. The cupcakes were from a specific café….that just so happened to be the place where you and Loki had your first date, which was set up by a far-too-enthusiastic Thor. The moment you got there, a waiter brought you a "complimentary" cupcake of your favorite flavor…along with another orange and purple card.

The second card took you to the library, on the pretext of picking up a book that was on hold for Loki. There, the librarian handed you the book - Divine Comedy by Dante - and another book that you recognized. It was Pride and Prejudice, one of the first pieces of "Midgardian literature" that you introduced to Loki, a book that you were all too happy to fangirl over. But inside the book was - yes- another orange and purple card.

The third card sent you to pick up Loki's dry-cleaning. (Really, Loki? Dry cleaning?) At the dry-cleaners, the person at the register handed you a transparent garment bag containing a black tuxedo with a ruffled white shirt. And then you were given a second garment bag with an emerald green gown embellished with diamonds. You couldn't help but stare a few moments at the pretty, expensive-looking gown. Before the person at the register could hand you another card, you made a mental note to ask Loki about the gown and whom it was for. You guessed it was probably for himself for the times he was feeling fabulous. Actually, Loki also liked to wear absolutely nothing when he was feeling his most fabulous…but that didn't matter right now.

The fourth card took you to the park where Loki confessed his love for you for the first time, on the pretext of picking up Loki's forgotten jacket and buying a bouquet of white flowers.

The fifth card took you across the city just to get a particular bottle of liquor that Loki had liked. Okay, now this guy was having a little too much fun with you right now.

You were relieved when the sixth card, given to you by the liquor store clerk, led you back to the Avengers compound, to the same room where you began this entire scavenger hunt. You huffed a little, setting the box of cupcakes, the books, the two garment bags, Loki's jacket, the flowers, and liquor gently on a table. "Loki? Loki, where are you?"

Loki stood in the middle of the Avengers' common room, wearing polished gold armor over a black and green leather tunic with long, dark trousers. His hair was combed perfectly in place, and his hands clasped behind his back. He stood surrounded by a few candles and fairy lights hanging against the curtains.

"Okay, I need answers…" You sighed, already tired from running around all afternoon. "Loki, I got your things, just tell me what the gown is for and the…the liquor and the…Are you throwing a party or something?"

"I'm getting married."

"What?!" You gulped, reaching for the nearest couch. "I…what? You're getting married, why didn't you tell me? And…" You felt your head start to spin, preparing yourself for the worst. Whatever happened to all the times he said he loved you? Was he just using you to put together some kind of romantic gesture for someone else, just a tool?! Perhaps this is what you get for letting the God of Mischief into your life. Betrayal. "Well, I hope they make you happy, Loki." You relented, putting your head in your hands.

"She does."

"Good." You murmured, trying your best not to cry in this moment. That was the last thing you wanted him to see. "Is that gown for her too?"

"Hm-hm. Of course, it'll probably end up on the floor after the engagement party, hehe."

"Loki, I am in no mood for your jokes right now." After a few moments, you looked up.

"Come on,…have a sense of humor."

"NO!" You yelled, getting up from the couch. "No, I will not have a sense of humor right now! You used me! You used me, and lied to me. You told me to do all of these errands, like picking up dry cleaning, and buying liquor, without telling me that you were going to propose to someone else! You could have at least told me, just so I'd have some kind of closure. But no, you couldn't even think to do that. You told me it was a scavenger hunt, like I wasn't worth knowing the truth.

I...I did this because I care about you, Loki! I care about you like some kind of idiot who actually thought that you might like me the same way that I liked you. That right there, making me like you might just be the worst thing you have ever done me." You took a moment to breathe, and ran your hands through your hair.

"Ugh…And you made me even pick up her engagement dress! What kind of person makes someone do that?!" You couldn't even think about the words you were spitting out, too busy with the hot tears clouding your vision.

"The kind of person who knows how good it'll look when you wear it."

"What?!" You were taken aback all of a sudden.

Loki approached you with a hint of nervousness. "Darling, you are one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I know I'm not easy to be with, that I drive you mad sometimes, and I make you put up with a lot. I...I should've practiced this more." He laughed under his breath. "Why didn't I?" Blinking, he pushed his hair back before continuing.

"What I'm trying to say is,...my life has never been the same since I met you. You're the most steadfast ally, a wonderful friend, and best of all, you are the most passionate and loyal person I have ever known. I could never imagine my life without you, and I never want to. That's how much I love you."

The God of Mischief fell to one knee, and held up a small emerald ring with a gold band.

"Will you marry me?"

Bil Hazeldine from Suburban Shootout

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise, sweetheart." Bill pulled his father's car into a driveway, and took your hand. "Just close your eyes, alright?"

"Alright…" After a few steps, you could hear Bill opening a door and the sound of a shopkeeper's bell, along with the muted conversations of various patrons. The scents of vanilla and grease reached you almost immediately.

Bill held you close and whispered that you could open your eyes now.

When you opened your eyes, you laughed a little. "We haven't been here in a while…"

"You remember it?"

"How could I ever forget?" You kissed him on the cheek, and let him find a table for you.

Bill's proposal began with him taking you to the milkshake diner where the two of you had your first date. After a bit of small talk over a banana split, Bill not-so-discretely excused himself. While you sat at the table with your spoon and checked your phone, Bill made his way to the jukebox with his hands in his jeans' pockets, feeling the small box inside. He'd almost thought about wearing a suit for this occasion, but his mum said it would make you suspicious. And his father suggested hiding the ring inside your ice cream to be more romantic , but Bill was terrified by the idea of you accidentally choking. Yes, keeping the ring with him was a better idea.

Bill took a deep breath and slipped a coin into the jukebox, flipping through the various tracks to find one of the songs you enjoyed. When he found one, he pressed play and called your name. Bill extended his hand out, offering to dance with you. He twirled you, and the two of you swayed in time with the music, smiling all the while. At the end of the song, Bill proudly kissed you on the lips.

He gently said your name, and pushed a bit of hair out of your face. "You're the one I want to dance with to every song…There's just no one like you, no one I could ever dream of that's just as wonderful as you are." Bill reached in his pocket for the small box, and fell to one knee, not caring who might be watching you in the diner. Inside the small box was a 0.3-carat diamond ring with a silver band. "Would you make me the happiest man in the whole world, and marry me?"

Caius Martius Coriolanus from Coriolanus

Coriolanus invited your family to dine with him and his mother one night on the pretext of an important matter concerning two important families of Roman nobility. It was not the first time he'd done such a thing, inviting your family to break bread with him and his mother. He had even visited your father's home before, sharing wine with your father and your brothers from time to time. It was through those meetings that Coriolanus fell more in love with your smile, the way you bit your lip when you were thinking,…and even the way your laugh infected him like a plague. And if there was anything more deadly to him than your simple, unadulterated laughter, then it was your beauty which had him fighting the urge to smile whenever you walked into a room or whenever he heard your voice.

But despite his best efforts, it became quickly aware to everyone in your family how besotted the general was with you. The way his head unintentionally bowed whenever he was in your presence, as if you were the sun and he would go blind if he looked you straight in the eye, never went unnoticed. The fact that you were the only person who could make him laugh, and that the simple mention of your name was enough to make the powerful General and conqueror of Corioles lower his usual barking voice made your family - and anyone else in the general's presence - giggle under their breath.

So when everyone had finished the prima mensa, Coriolanus stood up and raised his cup. "I have called you here tonight, to make a proposition," he declares with the same voice that he would use to speak to the Senate. "An alliance between our families…" The general turned his gaze to you for a moment, and exhaled to calm his racing heart, which only quickened when you looked back up at him. "If you will bestow upon me this honor, I wish to make your daughter…my wife. She is virtuous, and kind,…endowed with a noble background."

He waved for two of the servants of his household to present your mother and father with gifts of imported silk and valuable coins. And for you, the general had his servant gift place a set of golden jewelry - a girdle, five bracelets, and a layered necklace with rubies - in your lap. Underneath the girdle was a small piece of parchment with the words,

"I long to see you wearing these on our wedding night, my lady. Only these."

You turned red, and looked up and the general, politely expressing your thanks.

"Should you accept," Coriolanus gave you a nod and turned to your family. "We shall make our alliance official in the presence of the gods. Your daughter shall be my wife, and I her husband. I will defend her from harm and protect her, as I have defended Rome time and time again. Your daughter will be cared for, and all I ask for in return, is your fidelity. Pledge to me your allegiance, for I shall need your influence when the time comes for the elections in the Senate.

Instead of a dowry give me your loyalty, and I swear that your priceless gem of a daughter will want for nothing for as long as I live. Do I have your word?"

Oakley from Unrelated

"Let's get married." Oakley off-handedly said while the two of you stood outside, leaning against the wall while he smoked a cigarette.

You raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding?"

"No." He took another drag of his cigarette and turned to you with his ocean blue eyes and tousled, dirty blond curls. "We should get married."

"Who are you and what have you done with Oakley?"

"What, you don't think I'm good enough to marry you?" He protested.

Shaking your head, you laughed. "No, it's not that…"

"Well, then what is it?" Oakley crossed his arms and furrowed his brow at the sight of you laughing. "We have fun together, we make each other laugh,…we look good together, especially when naked-"

That was enough for you to playfully hit him on the shoulder, causing him to chuckle. He continued, "We like each other. We have this great relationship."

"But are you sure this is what you want?" You asked. "Don't you want to explore, try things? Do stuff before you're tied down?"

"Why would I do that? When there's this…beautiful, funny, smart, and sexy girl right there with me, I'm not even looking at anyone else." Oakley simply countered. "I like what we have, and i don't want to let it go. We can travel, explore the world, and I'll do it all with you." There was no sign of hesitation in his voice, but maybe it was just the cigarette fueling his courage. He came closer to you, and looked dead serious. "I don't want what we have to be just something we try for as long as we can, something we leave up to chance. I want forever with you."

"Forever?"

"Forever." Oakley knelt before you, his eyes going from a vivid cyan to a soft, almost pale bag blue. "I don't have a ring but…" He removed his necklace and presented it to you like an offering at an altar, calling your name. "Marry me."

Jonathan Pine from The Night Manager

Jonathan had been working with MI-6 for almost two years, embarking on various mission for them after he gained acclamation for helping to carry out Operation Limpet. He, along with officer Angela Burr, took down the infamous arms dealer Richard Roper once and for all.

Since then, Jonathan found himself a new home in London and got back in touch with you, the one who stole his heart back when he was still working as a night manager. He didn't know how much he truly missed you until you answered his letter, telling him about the twists and turns your life had taken since your last encounter with Pine. After about three weeks of exchanging handwritten letters - simply because they reminded you both of a simpler time and felt more personal - with Jonathan using a pseudonym to protect you, he invited you to visit London for a holiday.

And those five days you spent in London were some of the best five days of Jonathan's life. He delighted in your innocence, the way you happily took his arm and strolled through the city, randomly surprising him with kisses. Arm in arm, without a care in the world except for each other, enjoying all that life would have to offer…This is how it should be, Jonathan thought to himself as he gazed at the sparkle in your eyes, the color in your cheeks. He listened as you talked about everything you liked about London, everything that disgusted you, and everything you hoped for in the future, simply taking in the opportunity to just be with you.

After a few moments, you asked him about what he wanted in the future, and all Jonathan had to say was one word.

"You."

You looked up from your cup of tea. "Me?"

He took a breath. "Yes." Jonathan affectionately said your name, and reached for your hand. "I never grew up in a house with both parents, doting on me." He told you about how his life up until joining MI-6 was an abominable quest for order. How his time in the military and working in the hotel business was part of an aim to find a direction in his life, and how little happiness it truly brought him. How alone he felt whenever his life wasn't being threatened.

Jonathan sighed, not used to telling so much about himself in a single conversation, laying his heart out on the table to be cut into and devoured. "I promised myself that I would find the one person that I could care deeply for, and love them. I promised myself that I would make friends, find a home…a place to belong. Maybe someday become a parent."

You looked upon him lovingly. "That's beautiful, Jonathan."

He raised your hand to his lips and kissed it. "I want all of those things, and I want them with you." Jonathan declared, quiet enough for the two of you to hear. "These past days with you have been…incredible. When I look at you, I see everything that I have wanted, the life that I want to be living five years from now, ten years from now."

He continued, "You make me believe in a future that's worth building. The way you smile…, the way you look upon me and everyone with stars in your eyes…I want to be the one who keeps that smile on your face, the one who makes you laugh. I want to be the one who kisses you good night, and the first one you see in the morning. I want to be the one you come home to every evening, the shoulder you lean on."

Jonathan stroked the back of your hand with his calloused thumb. "I know it's soon, but if there is anything that I've learned, it's that when you see something worth keeping in your life, you do everything you can not to let her go. You just do it." He looked into your eyes. "Marry me?"

James Conrad from Kong: Skull Island

It was the third time this week James had a nightmare. After thrashing and groaning, fighting an invisible beast, James found it in himself to call you - his neighbor whom he'd been dating for two years - on the telephone. His forehead and his chest were dripping with sweat, his expression one of agony, when you approached his bed. It was obvious that he had been in a lot of pain.

James wasn't the type of person who wanted to expound upon the terrors he was feeling; he was a man of action who preferred expressing his emotions nonverbally. So, you respected that and simply talked about mundane things, things about civilian life that would temporarily distract James. As you both fell asleep, you made a mental note to remind James setting another appointment with his therapist, the one MONARCH had prescribed for him.

You woke up to an empty bed. It wasn't unusual for James to go out on an early morning walk to be alone with his thoughts. It was one of the things he'd learned from his therapist when he asked about how to be a better sweetheart to you while recovering from his trauma. You washed your face and brushed your teeth with a heavy heart, hoping it wouldn't be too long before you saw James again.

While you styled your hair, you heard the door unlock. James walked inside, carrying a bag of breakfast pastries. "Good morning." He greeted you in a low, casual voice.

"Good morning…" You would've asked if he slept well, but given the events of last night, that question made no sense. "I'm sorry I stayed over."

"No need to apologize." James set the pastries down and placed a kettle on the stove. While the water rose to a boil, James unwrapped the two chocolate croissants he bought, and glanced up to find you standing in the kitchen. You walked up to him slowly, and without missing a beat, James gently kissed you with an arm gently holding your waist. He murmured your name again, his breath warm against your lips. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

James gave you a chaste kiss on your forehead before going into his bedroom. "I brought breakfast for us both. Should I make us some eggs?"

"No need…" You watched James open one of his drawers. "Before I forget, do you want to make an appointment with your therapist?"

"Uh, I will." James returned to the kitchen with a small box in his right hand. "Thanks for reminding me."

"What is that?"

James took a deep breath. "Just something to thank you for last night,…and for everything you've done."

"James, you really didn't have to-"

"No. I've been wanting to do this for a year, it's time."

Your breath caught in your throat as James opened the box to reveal a small, simple sapphire ring. He began, "I should've done this sooner, and I'm a fool for not doing so." James fell to one knee, and you gasped. "Darling,…Over the years I've known you, you have helped me…become a man again. You've remained by my side as I've made attempts to return to civilian life. You've comforted me during my worst hours, and you have given me something worth living for."

"James…"

"You're someone worth fighting for." He laughs a little. "I love you. And if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making you feel loved and caring for you in the ways that you have cared for me.

Darling, will you marry me?"

Magnus Martinsson from Wallander

"Marry me." Magnus groaned with relief when you brought him a plate of eggs, some coffee, and an aspirin. He was laying on your couch, hungover after a night out with you and some of his mates from the police station.

You simply rolled your eyes and laughed a little. "Eat your eggs, you'll feel better with some food inside you."

Magnus kept his eyes on you while you both drank coffee, his headache slowly diminishing. "That a yes?"

"No, Magnus." You flatly said. "You had a lot to drink last night. Just…eat your eggs and finish your coffee. I'm not saying yes to a guy that passed out on my couch after throwing up into the bushes outside."

He grimaced. "I did that?…Sorry." Magnus looked down and shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. "Whatever, it was just a question, not like I meant it or anything." He pretended to brush off the matter. "You doing anything else today?"

"Tidying the house. You?"

Magnus closed his eyes for a moment to taste the savory flavor of the eggs. "i have a few things to do at the station for Kurt. Won't take long."

You and Magnus finished breakfast in silence before Magnus thanked you for letting him crash on your couch. "I'll see you soon." He said, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You almost found it funny, the way he groaned for you to marry him, and chuckled to yourself. For all of his sarcastic quips and his cold exterior, there were times Magnus was an unintentional sweetheart. You'd known him for about seven months, how endearing he was whenever he tried to show off at darts or pool. You thought about the time he brought you soup every night when you had a flu that lasted for a week. And during that one time he showed up late to one of your date nights because of a case, he spent the rest of the evening simply snuggling with you until you fell asleep in each others' arms. It was one of the first times you'd ever seen him smiling so blissfully like a newborn baby.

About a few hours later, you could hear it rain outside, a bolt of thunder rumbling across the sky. While caught up in some trashy television, you heard a knock on the door.

There was Magnus, standing outside drenched from head to toe.

"Magnus, what are you-"

"I meant it." He confessed while the raindrops rolled down the sides of his face. "Marry me." He repeated when you asked him what he was talking about. Magnus reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small gold ring with three tiny diamonds. "You're the most perfect person in this entire world. And it's not just because you make the best eggs." He said, making you laugh. "You're stunning, even when you've just woken up. You put up with a lot, and…I can't really say what it is you do to me, but I can't help it. I…I…"

"I love you too, you crazy detective!" You finished.

"So, is that a yes?" Magnus asked again, with a big grin on his face as he presented the ring to you.

Robert Laing from High-Rise

"We need to talk." Robert broke the silence while the two of you shared a candlelit dinner in your flat.

All traces of a smile disappeared from your face instantly. Usually nothing good ever followed those four words.

You put your fork down. "What did you want to talk about?"

Robert looked you in the eye. "I moved to this high-rise to be alone, to be away from people. This…a relationship was the last thing that I wanted." He blinked, looking down at his plate for a moment. Then, he wiped his mouth with a napkin.

You tensed in your seat, preparing for the worst. God, Robert. If he was trying to break up with you, then he just picked the worst time possible.

The doctor stood up. "I thought I wasn't built for love…So I tried to be alone as much as I could, avoiding every chance to be attached to someone." He swallowed. "And then you came."

You let out a sigh, assuming that Robert was going to say something awful about your relationship.

"It was like I couldn't even recognize myself anymore. What you did to me…" Robert called your name and walked over to you. "I cannot go a day without hearing your quippy words…, without seeing you when I come home,…without kissing you. It's more than anything I have felt in years." He confessed, his fingers tracing the back of your chair. "If you were to disappear from my life, it would feel like losing everything I've ever known. And…truthfully, the idea of that terrifies me. Maybe I could live without you,…but I don't know if I would be able to call it living.

"So what are you trying to say?" You murmured.

Robert sighed. "Forgive me, I'm not used to having these conversations."

"It's okay."

"You did it again." The doctor remarked. "You're making me fall in love with you, sweetheart." Robert went to the coat closet where he kept his blazer, and pulled a small box from one of the pockets. He returned to your side. "What I'm trying to say is,…that I'm in love with you. I'm in love not only with you, but with the way that you make me…feel things. The way that you remind me that there's a future ahead of us both. A future that can be much more than just dreary parties and squabbles between the upper floors and lower floors. You make me very happy, darling, and I think that you should know that."

Robert took a deep breath and fell to one knee, next to your chair with the box opened to reveal a silver ring with a diamond heart. "Would you marry me, and make me an even happier man?"

Thomas Sharpe from Crimson Peak

You were sitting on the swing set in the garden of your family estate, enjoying the mid-morning sun and the gentle breeze. Idly moving your legs back and forth, you played with a small cluster of Baby's Breath in your lap. It was nice to be away from the bustling drama and the incessant gossip, and instead be surrounded by fresh air.

"My lady." You were awoken from your reverie by a smooth, vaguely familiar baritone that belonged to none other than Thomas Sharpe. He was a guest who'd been staying at an inn near your family's home, having joined your family for supper at least ten times in the past two weeks. In your eyes, he seemed mysterious and yet full of stories to tell, always having an anecdote about a place he'd visited or a trick to show you and your siblings. There was something about him that made you drawn to him as soon as he walked into a room, you were unable to articulate what it was.

"Good morning. What brings you here, Baronet?"

The baronet gave you a smile, and leaned against a tree, watching you enjoy yourself on the swings. "I was speaking to your father and his, erm, associates about a business venture."

"About clay, right? Mining it?"

Thomas nodded. "Precisely, my lady. And you, have you been enjoying your morning?"

You blushed as he took a step closer. "Yes, Baronet."

"No need for such formal titles now, my lady. We're not at a ball, nor are we at supper. ''Thomas' will do." He gently said. "May I share your company for a while, my lady, if it would not be much of a bother for you?"

You allowed him, giving the Baby's Breath to him as a token of affection. No, not a token of affection. Simply a nice gesture that would hopefully give you a place in Thomas's good books. Maybe he might even ask you for a dance at the next ball.

"Will you be attending the ball this Saturday, Bar- I mean, Thomas?"

He nodded, taking a moment to smell the flowers. "You?"

"I will."

"And have you chosen a gown, my lady?" Thomas decided to humor you a little. He smiled while you sheepishly described the dress that you had your eye on for that special occasion. "Well, I'm sure you will look divine wearing it, my lady. Do you often spend time here in the gardens, all by yourself."

"Yes. I enjoy the flowers, and the breeze. It's beautiful when the weather is pleasant."

"I can imagine, my lady. It's been a long time since I have relaxed in a garden." Thomas places the Baby's breath in his front pocket. "My lady, there is something I wish to know of you."

You stopped swinging, and asked him what it was.

"I would like to know if you would be interested in marrying me." Thomas knelt by your side, looking up at you with eyes that bore the same hue as a cloudless sky. "For some time, my lady, I have admired your numerous charms from afar. And with each passing day, my affections for you have grown stronger. I find myself thinking about you at the most unpropitious times of day." He sighs, "While I may not be a man of great fame or great brawn or of great wealth, I am a man of dignity." Thomas promised you, despite knowing it was a blatant lie. "I will make sure that you lack nothing as my wife. And to treat you with nothing but the compassion and the love that you deserve. All I ask in return, is that you try to find it in your heart to give me even an iota of your affections.

Would you be willing to do that, my lady?"

Jaguar Villain!Tom Hiddleston

Ever since you moved into the flat Mr. Hiddleston bought for you, the most powerful man in London always had a designated town car sent to pick you up from work or school every day. His favorite chauffeur would show up at the same time every weekday, give you a friendly greeting, and drop you off at your flat. And once you got there, you'd be greeted by a doorman that Mr. Hiddleston personally hired to make sure that you reached safely.

Today, however, the chauffeur did not drop you off at your flat. At least, not right away. "Monsieur Hiddleston had something different in mind for today," he said with a small grin, like he knew something was going on. The chauffeur dropped you off at the nail salon for a manicure paid for by your powerful beau.

After being pampered by the nail technician for about forty-five minutes, you returned to the town car to find a bag in the backseat with the word 'Harrods' on it. "You went shopping?" You asked the chauffeur while he drove you to your flat.

"Non, it was all Monsieur Hiddleston. He was keeping this dress on hold, and asked me to pick it up for you. He would like you to wear it tonight."

You thanked the chauffeur with a smile. Inside the bag was a beautiful Carolina Herrera gown in your favorite color. And right on cue, your phone buzzed with a text from your beau, asking if you liked his gift. As always, you texted back saying that it was perfect.

The chauffeur dropped you off at your flat, and asked you to be ready by seven-thirty…but not before taking a good look at your manicured nails and saying an early 'congratulations'.

"Gordon owes me a favor," Mr. Hiddleston bragged a little when he arrived in front of your building at seven-thirty sharp. He opened the door of his favorite black Jaguar, and helped you inside the front passenger seat. "You look stunning tonight, darling."

"You look amazing too," you couldn't help but say. It was the truth after all. "When you said Gordon, did you mean…?"

"We're going to the River Restaurant in the Savoy Hotel, darling." He kept one hand on the steering wheel, placing the other one on your knee. "Hungry?"

"Nervous," you sheepishly said.

"I'm here, nothing can harm you." He turned his eyes to the road. "Your fears are far behind you."

The moment you arrived, the host of the restaurant immediately led you both to one of the outdoor terraces, where there was a table for two set up. Mr. Hiddleston pulled the chair for you before sitting down, and a waiter poured both of you some Dom Pérignon.

"This is beautiful." You gushed, watching the most powerful man in London raise an invisible toast. You clinked your glass against his.

He replied with a dramatic flair. "Nothing compared to you."

"So…what did you to get this favor?" You leaned in and asked him while the waiter placed a charcuterie board for the two of you to share. "This is a seafood place, charcuterie isn't on the menu."

A twinkle in his cerulean eyes, Mr, Hiddleston fed you a piece of cheese. "That's confidential, darling. Just enjoy the night."

"I will."

The two of you made small talk about your day, and about Mr. Hiddleston's upcoming business trip to Paris. You would be going with him of course, Mr. Hiddleston would make sure of that. The waiter refilled your champagne, and your beau discretely gave him a twenty-pound note, whispering that it was time for the main course.

The waiter took about fifteen minutes to bring your elegantly-arranged entrees out onto the terrace. And as he came out, you could hear an orchestra from inside the hotel begin to play "All I Ask of You" from Phantom of the Opera.

"Enjoying yourself?" Mr. Hiddleston leaned forward with a smirk as he noticed you listening to the music.

You admitted this was one of the songs you enjoyed, and said it reminded you of the first time you'd ever heard of the musical. How much you wanted to be Christine in that moment, serenaded with the promise of a life with no more darkness.

"Well there's one more thing I have for you tonight, darling." With a smirk, Mr. Hiddleston reached into the pocket of his blazer, retrieving a small box labeled 'Harry Winston'. He slowly got out of his chair and made his way towards you.

You gasped, covering your mouth almost immediately. You swore you could feel your heart stop just for a moment when his eyes met yours. It all made sense now: the manicure, the accidental 'congratulations', the gown,…

"Oh my god…"

Mr. Hiddleston fell to one knee and opened the box, which contained a 1-carat diamond ring with a platinum band. "Love me. It's all I ask of you."

Tag list: @thatdummy-girl @icytrickster17 @mischievoushiddleston,@lokischambermaid , @lady-rose-moon , @lokisgoodgirl , @lokisninerealms @jennyggggrrr ,, @tom-hiddleston-imagines , @lokiismineforever @smolvenger @winterfrostlovetriangle , @the-haven-of-fiction , @turniptitaness @cakesandtom ,@sallymagnoliaposts @leahs-reading-nook @holdmytesseract @muddyorbsblr @evelyn-kingsley @anukulee @acidcasualties @lotsoflokilove23 @caffiend-queen

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doingitforbokuto · 5 months

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The White Knight - Prologue

-> KNIGHT!KITA SHINSUKE X PRINCESS!READER

-> series masterlist

Summary: As a princess, you are used to having knights around you to protect you. But what happens when the ones who are supposed to protect you fail? Is there still honor and love to be found in these times? And if you find it, can you keep it?

Words: 1,542

Warnings: mentions of blood and death, not proofread, idgaf about historical accuracy

The sound of swords clashing still rung in your head. The whole night it had kept you awake. It simply didn't seem to fade, even thought it had already been two weeks since the fight in your father's throne room. The fight that had started because of you. The fight that had claimed yet another one's of your knight’s lives. Would this ever end?

Sitting in front of your breakfast, you poked your fork at the food on your plate, but no appetite arose in you. All you could think about was your knight's blood spilling from his neck as he fell to your feet. All because two of your suitors wanted to fight for your favor and he had tried to separate them. As if brutality would win you over. As if he was supposed to leave your side.

It seemed like no one was concerned with what you wanted, not even the knight who had pledged his whole live to you didn't seem to understand that running head first into a fight for you was the last thing that you wanted. But they all seemed like that. All of your knights had been good fighters but all of them were too hot-headed to know when to jump into a fight and when to leave the sword in the sheath. All of them had died in the name of protecting you. How many more knights would you have to go through, how many more would you have to see dead in front of you? How many more night would you have to lay awake because the image of their blood covered corpse didn't leave your mind?

“Princess?” One of your maids had entered your room and pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Yes?”

“Your father has summoned you. Apparently he wants to choose a new knight for you.”

You furrowed your brows. Why would he consult you on this matter? He always picked one and then assigned them to you without asking if you were alright with this random man following you around all day and night. Why now?

“He is waiting for you in the courtyard, princess,” she said since you didn't move.

“Yes, yes of course.” You got up and took the coat she handed to you.

At your door, one of your father's guards waited for you. In the time between your old knight's death and the assignment of a new one, one of his personal guards always looked after your safety. He seemed like a good knight, one you didn't mind having by your side. But sadly, he was already sworn to protect his king, not you. Soon, he would return to his old duties and you would be left with a knight who would give you even more nightmares.

“Ah, y/n, there you are!” Your father beamed at you from across the courtyard where he was awaiting you.

By his sides there were two of his guards, knights you have known for quite a while now. In front of him, however, was a line-up of men you had never seen before, all dressed in their armor.

“Father,” you gave a small courtesy and waited for him to speak up again, ans he did.

Gesturing towards the knights in front of him, he said: “And, what do you think?”

You were confused. Did he put together a whole army of knights for you? Surely, that was a bit too much. You raised an unsure eyebrow at him.

“Well, which one do you want? As your knight?”

“I.. I get to chose him?” It probably wasn't the best first impression to give your potential knights, a young woman unable to make her own decision, who is used to being patronized by her father. That wasn't you. Or at least, it wasn't all the time. You had your own life while your father attended his royal duties, had duties of your own, made decisions of your own, but when your father put his foot down and decided “what's best for you”, there truly was nothing you could do about it. He was the king, after all. And you were, though a princess, just a young woman at court. What say could you possibly have?

“Well, it seems that the last ones weren't a good.. fit for you. But these knights have all been recommended to me and traveled here from the castles of my friends. I thought perhaps you'd have a better feel for who would be a good pick. So, go ahead.”

No, you weren't used to being asked to pick a knight instead of just having one presented to you. But now that you could pick one, you had to pick one that would not get himself killed at the first sight of a sword being drawn. You had to be smart about this.

Straightening your back you stepped forward, hands clasped in front of you as you bore your eyes into theirs. There were maybe twelve men in front of you, some looked back at you with confidence that seemed to burst out of them, some avoided your eyes and some looked back at you with an expression you could not read.

“Which ones of you have seen combat before?”

All of them rook a step forward.

“Outside of your training grounds and alley fights. Which ones of you have been to battle?”

This time, not even half of them stepped forward. Of course, most of these knights that were held in such high regard were actually some coddled, high born lords who got the honor of being a knight by being liked by their uncle or some other important lord, not because they actually deserved it. At least that made your decision easier. Now, instead of choosing between all of them, you only had to pick between five contestants.

Then, you let them quickly recount the biggest battle they had been a part of. Of course, all of them boasted about how many men they killed, how brutally they claimed their victory and how blood stained their swords were. All of them - except for one. A knight whose eyes were trained on you but revealed just the tiniest glimmer of sadness as he recollected a bloody battle at the end of a long siege. His white hair with tips of black moved in the soft breeze. Unlike the others, he avoided describing the gruesome deaths of his friends and opponents alike, simply stating the order of events.

“When we first arrived, I was fighting side by side with Lord Abbott, but we got separated when we made our way into the castle. I led the attack on the walls of the castle while he secured the inside. The people in the castle and the city had been suffering because of our siege and while some fought against us with rage and fury, others were too weakened to fight. Many men lost their lives that day.. many good men. Both on our side and on the enemies. It was a hard fight and I am lucky to have come out of it alive.”

The yard fell silent after his little speech. The other knights already had a glimmer of triumph in their eyes - he hadn't even spoken about all of his kills and skills! But something about the way that he spoke, the calmness in his voice reassured you that he was a better knight than all of them combined.

“Are you scared to die?” You looked at him more intensely, trying to read his mind, trying to see what he was thinking.

For just a split second, his eyes widened and he seemed unsure of what to say. He was doing what you were doing: Trying to read you.

A few seconds both of you stared at each other, trying to feel the other's thoughts.

“I am, princess. But that does not stop me from doing my duty.”

“No,” you said, a smile slowly forming on your face. “It won't stop you.” Taking a step forward, you stretched out your hand for him to take.

Immediately, he took it, averting his eyes and kneeling in front of you like you were sure he was told to do.

“Now, might I know the name of my future knight?”

His brown eyes rose up to you and in them you saw something you had never seen before. Not just loyalty and bravery - but devotion as well. Devotion to you and to the cause of protecting your life, even if it would cost him his. Not because he wanted to be a hero, but because he wanted you to live.

“Kita, princess. My name is Kita Shinsuke.”

-> Next Chapter

#kita #kita x reader #kita shinsuke #historical au #knight kita #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #kita shinsuke x reader #kita shinsuke x you #kita x you #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #kita shinsuke x y/n #kita x y/n

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namimikan · 2 months

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to some extent, i want baynard&lucia to be wrong about ricon, is the thing.

"assume he knows everything." baynard says to lucia about her being a fairy.

but everything?

how did ricon become aware of octavia's plan to try and rescue quinn, and then meticulously time it to also be the time to murder reimund and kirsi?

it just... idk. feels a lil too convenient that i want it to be a red herring.

yeah, i imagine reimund is on ricon's shitlist after their argument, after ricon realizes that reimund is no longer under his thumb.

but. hey. even if i sort of believe that it's the case myself, i do kind of want there to be a moment where ricon gasps dramatically and says: "me???? try to kill my family?? i would never!!"

i'm not saying that ricon's a good man, i do think he could and would willingly murder his family under the right circumstances, tho i'd be interested in a version that is like "well i can gaslight and manipulate my family members however i like! but murder them? now that goes against my principles!"

maybe it's just the way it's being presented, just... flattens ricon as a character to me. it's a bit boring at how quick ricon was to act, for one supposed to be a chess master, and for one who enjoys a challenge, i'd rather he'd have been closer to the end of his rope. instead, he kinda rushed it, and i'm not sure the stars lined up for him that neatly to be believeable.

something like that, but not quite.

#manhwa blogging #currently: suitor armor #the way lucia and baynard talk about ricon makes ricon kinda one note i think???#like i don't want him to be an all-knowing one-step ahead villain -- yes i like naraku and aizen -- and he isn't! (tbf they're all liars)#but i'm also growing disinterested in the way they see him in a way?#even tho i'm dying for flashbacks and what really happened that night!!!

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theold-ultraviolence · 1 year

Note

Hii!! It's me again🙈❤

I was wondering if you could write something about Aemond and the reader (perhaps she's a swordswoman or Helaena's lady-in-waiting) with prompts number 31 on the hugs list and 26 on the kiss list. Something super romantic and with Aemond being a baby to receive hugs and kisses.

I'm a mess and my heart melts when it comes to Aemond and his softer, more cuddly side.🙈

Thanks for ur time❤🌹

Protector

Aemond Targaryen x Swordswoman!reader

Summary: Prince Aemond soothes you after a training session. Prompts: 31. hugging while straddling the partner + 26. giggling while kissing. A/N: GRACIAS, my dear!! When I read swordswoman!Reader I was so hooked and excited for it, I hope it I did it justice and provided the fluff you're looking for! Thank you for requesting!! x Words: 2k

You plop yourself down on the ground with a tired sigh, letting your sword fall just beside you.

Ser Criston Cole had put you through a long, strenuous training session, hoping to finally break your winning streak. It had left your hair matted with sweat and a few hairs escaping the tight bun you’d had it styled in.

All the heat accumulated inside your armor is suffocating, face burning and dripping, with muscles that ache from every attack you had successfully dodged and reciprocated, proving to all that might be watching that your strength and skill had nothing to do with your gender.

A lady who donned a breastplate of steel instead of a corset had everyone at court with brows raised in a judgemental manner.

But sparring with a sword –the rush of adrenaline, the speed with which your blood ran and how your breath heaved every time you wielded your weapon – was an exercise that you just couldn’t sacrifice for the sake of societal standards.

Your father could complain all he wanted, arguing that no suitor would ever want a woman that might outmatch his strength, but you found it a blessing. A man intimidated by his lady wife’s power was but an insecure oaf whom you had no interest in.

No, you had your sights on the likes of someone else.

Someone with the ability to have your heart racing, akin the way it does when you’re engaged in a fight.

You look up and there in all his regal beauty, stands prince Aemond, looking down at you with a glint in his eye and a pleased smirk.

“If you keep beating Ser Cole,” Aemond softly speaks, “we might have to replace him as commander of the King’s Guard.”

He has made a habit out of watching you train – inconspicuous at first, until one rare occasion where you’d fallen into the grovel due to a missed move, and he’d rushed straight to your aid, right in front of all who were gathered around to see, subtlety be damned. That day, the prince had secured the place he already had in your heart.

“My prince!” you mirror his smirk, albeit tiredly for you’re still out of breath, “your words are much too bold. Would the Kingsguard ever accept a lady as one of their own? Unlikely, my prince.”

“Hmmm…” He extends a hand out to you, which you gladly accept and stand with a little bit of an effort, hissing as the pain in your constrained feet begins to throb.

“I would have you be sworn as my protector without a second thought, my lady. With an oath to the Kingsguard or not. A woman that takes a weapon typically held by men and masters it, is a force to be reckoned with, powerful and unafraid. I would like those qualities in my personal protector.”

You chuckle, feeling your face blush from his skilled, silver tongue. He’s the only man who isn’t afraid to come up to you like this, and even be seen with you (with the exception of Ser Cole, who doesn’t have much choice in the matter).

Prince Aemond is already handsome – despite the hateful whispers of his missing eye – and a skilled warrior himself. That he is direct with his affections towards you makes him even more attractive in your eyes.

If only you were in the right headspace to admire his beauty as he stands this close, with his hand linked with yours. But each step brings a jabbing pain to the soles of your feet that makes you squirm uncomfortably, and worry flashes in his gaze as soon as he notices.

“Is my lady in much pain?” He asks.

My lady.

My lady, my lady, my lady, it sends shivers down your spine, the phrase turning over in your mind in an endless cycle. How you ache to be truly his. But you anchor in your thoughts with a tight squeeze to the hand you hold, and nod in reply with furrowed brows.

“Then, come.”

He leads you through the halls and steps of stone that lead to his personal apartments in the Red Keep, and you fidget as he opens the door, nervous that someone will catch you trespassing such a holy threshold.

The prince only meets your gaze warmly, sharp lips curved in a tender smile as he gestures for you to come in.

You take his hand once more and fully step into his rooms, marveling at the vast space and luxuries that are held inside, from lengthy bookshelves lining one wall, to another one that displays a series of Valyrian steel swords.

Awestruck, you admire his collection of weapons for a moment – mighty and beautiful, deadly and elegant – and then you gasp at the sudden feeling of hands at your arms, squeezing tenderly, while Aemond’s breath fans your earlobe as he leans down to whisper.

“Will my lady let me ease a bit of her pain?” His husky tone has an electric effect on your skin, and you’re glad you’re covered head to toe in metal armor or else he’d see the goosebumps traversing your flesh.

“That is a bold request, my prince.” Your heart beats loudly – so loudly it might even make clunking noises against your breastplate – and louder still when he chuckles so mischievously behind you.

“Bold as it might be, I don’t sense rejection from you.”

You sigh and turn your face to look at him, struck by the smoldering gaze that meets you, “Do as you wish, prince Aemond.”

He smirks, before reverently proceeding to remove your armor, slowly, deliberately, piece by piece, making sure to be delicate so as not to harm you when he unlaces and detaches the more intricate pieces of your armor.

His eyes roam every inch of your form revealed by the disposal of your shoulderpads, then your gauntlets; carefully unlatching your breastplate and letting it fall on the ground before kneeling down to remove your greaves.

Soon, you’re bare except for your loose trousers and tunic that you wear underneath, and Aemond takes this chance to embrace you tightly from behind, resting his head on your shoulder and nuzzling into your neck to breathe in your scent.

You squirm, fearing that he’ll find you unappealing – skin warm and sticky from your dried sweat – but he shows no sign of repulsion at all, and rather nestles himself closer still to you, inhaling the smell of your skin as he would any other flower.

You can’t help but sigh, and rest your hands atop his, where they rest on your stomach. With your fingers interlaced with his, you guide his hands to roam freely along your body – exploring the curves that were hidden underneath thick steel moments ago.

The tip of his tongue suddenly licks an experimental stripe to the side of your neck, making you tense in his hold from the surprise, before promptly relaxing – letting your neck arch back into his shoulders so that he’d have all the free space his majesty wishes to explore with his tongue, with his silken lips.

While leaning into him, you’d rolled the soles of your feet in a way that stung, hissing in pain amidst Aemond’s kisses, which makes him separate from you. You pout, mourning the brief loss of his touch, but he chuckles and guides you by the hand until he reaches an armchair placed in front of a great hearth in the opposite end of his room. He sits, opening up his legs in such an inciting way, and prompts you to straddle his lap.

The fire burning on the hearth paints a warm glow that’s rather romantic all over the room, and you look at the prince before you, whose rugged features soften the longer his hands caress your body in circular motions to massage your pain away.

He’s so intent on bringing you comfort, you wonder who’s really the presumed protector here – you, as he’d just said a second ago, or him?

“Prince Aemond?”

“Hmm?” His hands stop at your waist before his arms wrap around you fully, and bring you closer to his chest.

“Why?” You tentatively envelop your arms around his shoulders, so close to his face that you can see the icy specks of blue in the violet tint of his uncovered iris.

“What’s that, my lady?”

“Why me?” you whisper against his lips, “wouldn’t you prefer to set your sights on one of the beautiful ladies of the court? Someone far more graceful than one who favors the sword?”

He hums once more, before speaking sincerely.

“Is a woman capable of defending herself not beautiful? Is a woman who wields a sword and twirls it around in the air before striking her opponent, not graceful? My lady, a woman who freely pursues her heart’s desires in a society that would prefer to ostracize her for engaging in what people deem a masculine practice, is a prize worth treasuring. I’d be a fool if I didn’t pursue someone of your worth. You’re a sight to behold, my lady.”

Is not the fire burning on the hearth that warms you up from inside out. You look down abashed, until he tilts your head up to look at him, with a gentle thumb underneath your chin.

“You flatter me, prince Aemond.”

“I speak only the truth. I’m attracted to you, my lady, very much so. I’ve no time to beat around the bush with a matter such as this. My lady, will you accept these affections?”

He asks so kindly, for a man with the reputation of a blackened heart, as he tucks the loose strands of hair that frame your face behind your ear, before leaning in close so that his soft lips rest expectantly against their tips, waiting for your consent.

“But what will people say? What will your family say? Don’t they want you betrothed to someone else?” you resist.

“I don’t give a shit about what other people say. My family may desire one thing, but I’m not a man that conforms to the expectations of others. I will pursue whoever I want, and whoever dares to defy me will get a flash of my own blade.”

You swoon, completely wooed by the prince’s strong convictions. You needn’t think for much longer.

“Then, yes, prince Aemond,” you hotly whisper. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

He chuckles – the sound reverberating against your sensitive skin –and asks, “May I kiss you?”

You reply by cradling the back of his head with your palm and leading him closer, until his puckered lips softly kiss your ear once, before a series of chaste pecks follow until he can reach your earlobe and sweetly nibble on it, making you purr and melt against his embrace.

You don’t know what to do with all of this affection, showered so generously that you can’t help but hug him closer, nuzzle your face against him and murmur against his leather-clad shoulder.

“Prince Aemond?”

“Yes, my lady?” His arms snake around your frame tightly, hands tenderly stroking the long line of your tired back.

“Kiss me again.”

He giggles and leans back to look at you – the sight of him looking so uncharacteristically smiley makes you laugh, and he takes your loving grin as the perfect landing stop for a kiss.

He kisses you passionately, deeply – humming with contentment as his hands caress your cheeks, not letting you go.

Afterwards, Aemond no longer hides behind pillars to watch you train, nor does he keep his mouth shut when he hears others speaking ill of you.

Even someone as strong as you – who wears their armor proudly, who wields the blade fiercely, needs someone to take care of their heart, when the swords have been drawn and the shields come off.

When you allow yourself to be vulnerable, it's prince Aemond that comes to your aid, to soothe and to hold.

To protect.

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