a tender but more explicit snippet about a femme princess fantasizing about being touched and trying to herself, under the cut <3
a princess accidentally further corrupting herself by having access to those books she had been warned not to touch. curiosity got best of her, and so, between a ruffle of her dress and another, she finally reaches those readings she had been longing for. it's not that she hadn't known before about the topic, but to read clear, written words about those fantasies she had. those thoughts about her riding dame instructor growing stronger and sinful, as she can feel the seams of her corset somehow getting tighter against her body. dropping those books back to their place, shying away from the intensity of such a feeling, afraid to be caught with her face bent on those prohibited contents. yet as the evening slips into its resemblance of night, in the solitude and silence of her chambers, she falls captive to those same images again. rolling on her own stomach, her body covered by the thinnest linen nightgown she can easily pull up until her chest. pressing her lips against the pillow to make sure she doesn't let any sweet sound slip out her throat, and alert who's guarding her door. dragging her fingers down until between her legs, to find herself unraveled and aching. slipping her fingertips delicate to unfold how sensitive she has gotten, an initial image of someone potentially watching her impure actions slowing her. softly drawing her own shape and crevices and solely from that, whimpering so sweet against the fullness of the pillow. the image of her dame's hands holding the rope to mind for the stables. the image of her dame's lips beaded with slight dew from a warm day. the image of her dame's body closer to hers when she's being helped getting over higher places. finding her own fingertips rubbing, moving and stuffing herself more than she could ever think to be able to manage. unable to slow herself down, letting go of the composure one princess like her should have. she wants her dame, she longs for her. she wants her to do every act she's testing on herself. until she's far off throwing herself off her edge, without the mean to recognize she has been crossing the route to it. she wants to call out her name, to turn and find her body to cling to. but the breaths will be enough to steady herself to her image of royalty. quiet little tears of longing wetting her flushed cheeks, the very same pillow she has been whimpering in trance against, only a few moments before.
holiday modern au, 1.7k. when anya gets to be the grump this time dmitry has to cheer her up <3
Anya huffed as she slammed the door behind her. She fumbled with her scarf, hat, gloves, coat, tripped from her boots, and left it all in a wet, dripping heap on the floor.
She hadn’t called her boyfriend before coming over, but had let herself in his apartment anyway, since he’d given her a key and everything, so she made herself comfortable on his couch without saying a word.
Minutes later, there was the noise of the lock turning and Dmitry was stomping his shoes dry. “Anya?” he called, perhaps confused by the sight of her coat in a heap at the door. “You here?”
“In the living room,” she answered without much more elaboration.
He made his way around the couch and he finally found her on her side with her head on the armrest. “Hey,” Dmitry’s smile melted her heart, just a little. On a good day he could put the sun to shame. His hair was disheveled from the walk home, cheeks flushed from the cold, his hoodie a little crooked, his smile moreso, smelling like snow and clove. “This is a surprise.” He settled on the couch behind her, their usual cuddle spot after a long day. She did her best to maintain her fowl mood she was determined to cling onto. But he was rather warm. Perhaps she could snuggle a little closer to him. “To what do I owe this occasion?”
Anya sighed. “I’ve officially broken up with Christmas.”
He snorted. “Oh no!”
“I’m serious. We’re so over. I’ve decided I hate the cold, and the music, and the crowds. Everyone is too cheerful.”
“What happened?”
She shrugged. “It was just a really bad day.”
“I don’t think one bad day warrants such extreme actions,” he reasoned, tone playful. Teasing was usually the trick that cheered her up, but she wasn’t in the mood right now. “Especially something you’ve adored since before I’ve known you.”
It was true. She was Hallmark Movie Crazy about the holiday season, always had been. She loved buying gifts for everyone, watching the Christmas classics, going ice skating in the park, baking for her neighbors. Basically every cliche you could think of, Anya participated in. She never understood why anyone could be grumpy at this time of year. Until today.
Dmitry’s fingers dug into her side in an attempt to tickle, another trick that normally lightened her mood, but she smacked his hand away. “Watch it, Sudayev.”
“Sorry,” he said, but he was still laughing. “But seriously. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Anya took a deep breath. “Nothing big, but like— you know how when all the little things just add up? And make the day terrible? And you feel like a toddler about to dissolve into a tantrum?”
“Yeah. That’s always rough.”
“Right. Like— I spilled my coffee and didn’t have time to change or buy a new one, so there goes five bucks.”
“Oof.”
“And then I was late getting to work anyway, which is never a good way to start the day. And we had all these meetings so I didn’t get to finish my work before I had to leave, and the printer was broken, and my lunch box leaked, and someone sent me a rude email again—”
“Was it that one guy from sales?”
“Yeah, the same guy.”
“I hate him. Want me to fight him for you?”
“I might fight him if he writes ‘as previously stated’ one more time.”
That made Dmitry laugh. His cheek was cold against her neck, but his body was so irresistibly warm she wondered if his mere presence would lull her to sleep. “Geez. You can’t catch a break.”
“And then! My usual metro line was down again, so I had to take a bus, but there was so much traffic from holiday shoppers that it took twice as long to get uptown, and I lost a glove, and at that point I didn’t even want to go to the store and cook dinner anymore.”
Dmitry was rubbing soothing circles on her shoulder. “And then you came here.”
“Because I didn’t want to go home to my empty apartment and get all mad again.”
“Did you want me to cheer you up?”
She shrugged. “I dunno. I just kinda feel like eating in and watching TV.”
“Fair.” He was quiet for a minute. He pulled his phone from his pocket, tapping away, and Anya assumed the conversation was over. Maybe she might actually fall asleep. Until, “I know what will make you feel better. Come on,” Dmitry stood abruptly, stretching, and she was immediately annoyed by the lack of his warm body against her back. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“Somewhere fun.”
Anya refused to get up. “If it involves going out there again,” she pointed to the door, “you’re going to have to pay me.”
“You’ll love it.”
“No.”
Dmitry sat again, now at her feet, still trying. “They opened the Tuileries winter market today. They’re selling warm drinks and everything. Don’t you want to go see the pretty lights? Do something a little Christmas-y?”
Anya knew she was being stubborn. That was the thing— stubbornness wasn’t exactly a pleasant trait, but, unlike others who suffered from this gene, she was aware of the flaw. Her self awareness made this at least a little more tolerable. And, frankly, she earned the right to not want to get up from this old couch after such a day. Even if she knew she was being difficult to her very lovely and very patient boyfriend. “Christmas lights can’t erase today. I’m forever jaded.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
She sat up, really looking at him, trying to figure out the angle he was playing. “I thought you hated that kind of stuff.”
“Hate’s a strong word. I’m no Scrooge.”
It wasn’t like he was never cheerful, but Dmitry wasn’t exactly the jolly type, either. Anya was usually the one dragging him to holiday events. He happily joined her, of course, but she could tell he only played along just for her sake. Anya jumped at any chance to celebrate the season, from a themed party at their favorite bar to her grandmother’s Christmas dinner to shopping in the holiday section at the bookstore. Dmitry would choose to stay comfortable at home with just the two of them any day. Not that that was a bad thing, of course. So this behavior— him being the one to actively search for a not-cheap Christmas activity in town to participate in— was rather suspicious. “But you always say they overcharge.”
“They do, but,” he bent down and kissed her cheek, “you like these things. And I like you. And I hate seeing you so glum more than I hate spending money.”
That made her smile. “How romantic.”
He mirrored her, kissing her nose. “Come on, Anya. It’ll be good for you to do something cheery and out of your usual routine. If you’re too tired and cold after an hour, we can come back here, and I’ll make us dinner and some boozy hot chocolates, I promise. Scout’s honor.”
“You weren’t a scout.”
He just tilted his head, playfully and patiently exasperated.
“Fine.” His grin widened, but she held up a finger. “You get one hour. And I get to complain about the snow and the commute as much as I want.”
He kissed her then. “That’s my girl.”
They bundled up and braved the December weather, and as promised, Anya grumbled the whole way, and to her frustration Dmitry only smiled and gave her a spare pair of gloves and zipped her coat up to her chin. The ride to the park wasn’t very long so they arrived just as the sun was setting. Dmitry paid for their steaming cups of mulled wine without a fuss and they made their way through the gate, weaving through vendors and children running around, until they found a path of twinkling string lights to walk through.
With Dmitry’s hand in hers and a warm beverage in the other, it wasn’t so bad. The snowfall was less icy and bitter and more fluffy and sweet, Anya admitted to herself, and the lights were rather pretty. It was hard to focus on the frustrations of her day when there were so many delighted smiles walking around and the cheerful carols in the air. Dmitry was rambling mindlessly about his own day at work, talking about the technicalities of this new recipe he got to try, how maybe the head chef might let him take the lead on a dish for a critic tomorrow. And then he would whisper something funny against her cheek, earning a laugh, and. Okay. Maybe today wasn’t all bad.
“Could you take our picture?” he asked one stranger, offering his phone, just before they were about to step under a canopy of lights.
Anya raised her eyebrows up at him, surprised. He grinned as he adjusted his beanie, like he knew he was behaving a bit strange. But they posed and smiled, and when he kissed her cheek she laughed, and they carried on with their walk.
“You’re being a little gross today,” she commented, earning a laugh from him.
“Just trying to cheer you up.”
She tilted her head up at him.
“Is it working?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
He turned to face her. Checking. Showing his hand. His smile was still playful, but his eyes shifted into something softer, something a little more serious. “You ready to head back?”
She looked around, taking in the scene around them. “In a few more minutes.”
His eyes searched hers for a minute, studying, making sure. “Okay.” His hands ran up and down her arms as if to warm her up. Always taking care of her, subconsciously or not. “I just hate to see you and your favorite holiday in a fight after just one lousy day.”
She ducked her head. “I think we’re on good terms now,” she admitted, meeting his eye again. “Thanks to you.”
The corner of his mouth tilted up. “Good.”
She stood on her toes to kiss him and he met her halfway, his nose cold against her cheek, all smiles and snow and clove and cinnamon.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀there was nothing unusual for the earl to be another damsel in distress, a situation he isn't quite a stranger to, although tonight was particularly different. later in the evening as time went by as a guard dog simply on duty dressed and disguised in a dress. how humiliating.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀the earl found himself bound, caged and confined in a small space as he sat on the ground. somehow... the air was thicker, it was heard to breathe and it wasn't because of the corset either. he felt dizzy, almost out of it as well, muffled murmur in a distance and ciel knew there were hungry eyes watching him. it was a feeling he was familiar with anyway.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀what a strange sensation, the earl couldn't remember how he found himself in this situation either. with his hands still bound he brought them closer to his face, uncovering his eyes before finding the room to be spinning around him. and there it was, a simple murmur, a gentle word of command, a calling. " sebastian. " / @corvus--coraxx
