uhhh mean princess making knight!Levi beg to eat her through her clothes??
cw: power imbalance-based dubcon, unrequited love, face slap, degradation/shame, body worship, oral f!receiving, references to religion/damnation, humiliation kink, maybe whump? i'm not sure how to use the term but this is Not Nice, potentially ooc, inspiration struck so I just ran with a devotion theme, vaguely medieval, dead dove // wc: 3k // [ao3]
an: mind the tags, this isn't what I typically write so if it's not your cup of tea pls skip!
Levi made a pained noise. “My lady, you ask of me what I cannot give.”
The princess looked down at him. It was always this- her seated somewhere lofty, gazing down at her loyal knight, her eyes shifting between pity and possession. Now they were sharp as the diamonds at her throat.
“You said you would give me anything.”
“I would. I will.” She watched Levi’s pulse flutter in his throat. She considered and discarded the idea of drawing him into her skirts by the white cravat around his neck.
“Then this is what I ask.”
“If I were caught, it would mean my death. You know this, my lady.”
“And?”
He bent his head, his hair almost brushing the point of her shoe. “More importantly, your honor-”
“I grow bored of honor.”
“Your father’s honor, then.”
“Cease this impudence. I would not hear his name invoked in my hall.”
“Is that the truth of it?” Levi drew himself up, trying to claw back the dignity he’d left at her feet. “My-” he tasted and discarded a dozen terms, none pure enough to offer her. “My devotion used merely to taunt your hated father?” His hand shook where he braced it on the hilt of his sword.
“It seems my order has made you take leave of your senses, sir. It sounds almost as if you mean to chastise me.” She rose from her chair and knocked his hand from his sword, dismissive as swatting a fly. “And I know you would never dare such a thing.”
Levi stepped back as if struck. “No, my lady. Forgive me.”
“Then remember your place and obey. You are sworn to serve me in all things.”
He nodded, his face devoid of color save for two bright spots in his high cheeks.
“Words, sir. You try my patience.”
“Yes. Yes, I am yours.”
“To do with as I will.”
“Yes.”
“Then I will command you again, in my generosity.”
“Thank you, my lady.” He murmured, the words like ash.
She pointed to the floor and watched with a fierce thrill as Levi sank to his knees. Now she did indulge the urge, sinking her fingers into the froth of cloth at his throat and tugging hard. He fell forward against her lap, where he held very still. He seemed to hold even his breath.
The princess slowly, carefully lifted the layers of her skirts away until Levi’s face laid against her chemise. If the heat of her body was a shock, the press of her palm against his cheek was damnation. She drew him nearer still.
His lips moved against her clothed core. “This is a cruelty.”
“It is what I desire.”
“Then I cannot refuse you.” His pulse rushed in his ears. Every stolen glance, every time he had left too much of his heart unprotected- she had seen through it all. And this is what she chose to do with his devotion.
“Don’t look so despairing, my knight.” She brushed her heel against his crotch, where his trousers bulged despite himself. “Is this really such a burden for you?”
He let out a choked noise at the pressure, at the casual tone of her voice, so at odds with the wickedness of her words. He hid his flaming face between her legs, playing deeper into her hand. Each ragged breath puffed warm air against her privacy, the forbidden place he had dreamt of and rued.
She stroked his forehead and- damn his weakness- he closed his eyes and savored it, his lips parting in a weak sigh.
“There, there.” She cooed at him, lifting her hips. He was engulfed in her scent, her clothes and skin surrounding him. Before this he had merely known it from the air she stirred as she passed, from her hair against his cheek during an escort from a late ball, an inhale from a stolen handkerchief, sinful and sweet. Here, it overwhelmed him, blotting out all other sensation save the need for more, to touch and taste, to worship.
"What would you have me do?" He asked weakly, eyes still closed, half-hidden in her lap.
"Can you guess, my knight?"
"Please, do not torment me," he whispered. Quieter, "I fear to."
"Bring me pleasure." She relished in the shudder that ripped through him. "Use that clever tongue." She tightened her grip on the back of his neck, nails against flesh. "Those insolent lips."
Levi groaned helplessly. He gripped a handful of her skirts, seeking blindly for something stable, for something he could understand. A desperate calculation blazed through his mind: if this was madness, if his very soul was forfeit, he would not squander the chance to serve his beloved princess in this most intimate act. Blood rushed in his ears. Instinct, longing, need drove out all else. He reached with scarred, soldier’s hands to lift the final separation away, to bare her intimacy to his reverent mouth.
The princess struck Levi across the face with the back of her hand. Stars burst behind his eyelids as he reeled back, stunned. Her voice fell upon him like sharpened arrows.
"How dare you?!" Her pretty mouth was drawn into a furious slash. "How dare you think yourself worthy to look upon me? To- to bare me to your wretched gaze?" She clenched and unclenched her fists, long nails catching her palm as she gasped out, "Nay, you meant to touch my very flesh, with your own defiled lips!"
Levi watched her in horror, his protests shattering before they could form into speech. How could he have known? She had already crossed such boundaries, had made as if to use him for relief- he could hardly be blamed for- he loved her, damn himself and the ground beneath him- but she suddenly fell silent. A new, more fearful sound swept over him.
The princess was laughing. High and shrill, a carrion-bird, rejoicing in ruin. "Oh gods," she said between gasps, "you truly meant it. You thought I would let you-" she clutched at herself on the throne, contorting in glee. "You poor, pathetic worm. You must have believed you were in some fairy-tale, did you not? A peasant boy, raised on scraps and suddenly offered a seat at the lord's table, reaching with greedy hands for all he can reach."
Levi had never heard her laugh. The sound filled and pierced his heart in equal, painful measure. It took a long moment before he could trust his own voice. "My lady. How then did you wish me to..." he swallowed. "To serve you?"
"Through my garments. Surely that is more than enough of a boon for you. And I trust your efforts will be thorough enough for what I wish, despite the barrier." She gestured with the top layers of her skirts. "Surely I have honored you behind your due by removing this much."
He nodded. His mouth filled with saliva and he swallowed it thickly down. She waited there, expectant, radiant and cruel as a star. Levi's body moved of its own accord. He crawled to his princess's feet, stumbling when his tunic caught beneath his knees. She petted his hair when he reached her, as if rewarding a dog.
"Shall we try again?"
"Yes."
"Is that all?"
Would there be no end to her torment? Levi was coming to understand. His debasement was part of her game- indeed it seemed to make up the majority of her enjoyment. He doubted he would be able to bring her to completion through her chemise and began to wonder if she knew already that it was an impossible task. Yes, Levi understood. If she wanted him debased, if she wanted him broken and begging beneath her, she would have it. And in doing so he would fulfill his purpose.
"Please," he whispered. "Please, my lady. I am unworthy, I confess, but my lady's generosity is boundless. Honor your servant with this task, which I could never hope to earn without your mercy."
She leaned forward, her eyes alight at his supplication. Levi surged on, renewed by her interest.
"See how I grovel for you, my lady, how pathetic my words and mien, when met with your divinity..." He drew closer, his body braced for another rebuff, but she allowed it. His cheek brushed her lap again, returning to where this unreality began. Still, she did not move. "Please, let me..."
This close, her scent enveloped him once more, and he stirred to life beneath his trousers. "Please..."
"Such high words from so lowly a source," she said lazily, twining her fingers in his hair. She guided him again between her legs, again so close that his ragged breathing caressed her core. "To work, my knight."
Closing his eyes, Levi imagined that it was her mouth that he reached for, her soft lips that he met as he leaned forward and parted his own. Instead, he met soft, thin cloth, the likes of which he had never felt against his skin. The trappings of royalty yielded to his kiss.
The princess sighed and tightened her grip on his head at the first brush of warmth. Levi lavished soft kisses against her clothed sex, unsure of how long he would be permitted such indulgence. His nose nudged against her, evoking a sharp gasp from the princess above. Levi raised his head, eyes wide and questioning.
"More," she said simply. Levi obeyed.
His kisses grew stronger, damp, open-mouthed presses to where he imagined her entrance lay hidden, mapping his movements to the sounds they wrought. Each sent licks of fire down his spine as he curved against her, heedless of anything but the forbidden wonder at his lips.
The princess raised her hips, holding him to her so that he could hardly catch his breath. "Give me your tongue," she ordered.
Levi carefully pressed the tip of his tongue to the fabric. Gods, he could taste her- sour and acidic, perfumed from her baths- she was an impossible contradiction, and he needed more. He lapped at her, fervent licks that flattened his tongue against her core and made her whine.
With each pass, her chemise grew damp with his saliva, until his fevered eyes made out the sinful outline of her folds against the fabric. He half-expected to be struck down right there, by the gods or by the princess's own hand. Levi reverently kissed the apex of her slit, then dragged his mouth all the way down. He licked back up and felt the swollen pearl of her clit against his lips- a new target. He focused his attentions there as precisely as he wielded his blade.
The princess rewarded his efforts with a breathy, shocked moan, then a rough fist in his hair, smearing his face into herself. Her arousal glossed his lips, dizzying, intoxicating. Levi answered her cries with his own groans, unable now to hold back awed sounds of adoration.
The skirt grew translucent under his ministrations. The princess softened into something almost tender as her pleasure mounted, her soft thighs trembling tight around Levi's head. He thought for a heretical moment of mounting the throne, pulling her against him, her guarded entrance yielding to his rigid member. He imagined her haughty face twisting into a cry, her noble flesh claimed by his soldier's strength, the tainted body of one beneath her, now atop-
But madness laid that way. He would content himself- yes, even as his manhood ached and wept in its confines, even as his heart burned inside him- he would content himself with this unholy worship. He redoubled his efforts, laving kisses and licks against his princess until he could hardly feel the barrier between their bodies, just warmth, just wetness.
He latched his lips to her bud and sucked. She whined, a sound that Levi swore to commit to memory. He would play it back for himself when she returned to her cruelty, as surely she must. But here, now, she was coming undone for him. He dared not touch her, for fear of breaking the spell- so he dug his nails into his own thighs, tethering to the pain. Of all the sensations overwhelming him, it was the most familiar.
The princess's taste coated his tongue, making him throb painfully. He longed to relieve the pressure, to stroke himself if he could not hope for her touch, but he resisted. All was her pleasure, at her whim. He had thought her distracted, but he suddenly felt a sharp prick of her nails at his scalp, a reminder of her clutches.
"Don't- tell me..." she spoke between gasps, though it did not lessen her power. "You are aroused by this." She leaned down, sharp eyes on his tented trousers. "My loyal knight. My devoted knight. Does it ache?" She glittered and he thought of dragons. "Does it hurt, do you long for me? Do you love me?"
"Do not ask me for answers you know already, my lady," he rasped. Her taste coated his words as they left his mouth, made him shudder. "Would you command me to speak them? To suffer so?"
"I could," she answered, and relished in it.
Levi was speaking against her intimacy now, his lips slick and swollen. "How now shall I prove my devotion? Have you given me an impossible task?"
"You have brought me closer than you know, little knight." She dipped her own languid fingers between her legs, raised them shining and sticky to Levi's lips and pushed them in. He licked her clean, wordless and immediate. It was nothing now.
"But I wish now for sweet lips to speak sweeter words."
This, then, was her final aim. To take not only his body but his heart, to take the sacrificial offerings and put them to the flame.
"So be it, my lady," he whispered. "I confess all, though it is no secret." He looked up at her helpessly. "I love you. I love you and am damned. I love you and am at what little mercy you deign offer." As Levi spoke, she pulled him once more, for the last time, into her skirt, against her core. His words were muffled, swallowed by her as by a hungry snake. She expanded, snake-like, around the meal, as if sustained by his submission.
The princess began to grind her hips into his face. "Do not stop speaking," she warned. Levi could not, now that the gates were open, the words branding his tongue, searing the air between them. Each confession made him burn hotter, grow painfully harder, until he felt he would die or have his seed spilled shameful in his own garments. All his senses were overcome, exulted and ruined by her, and he set his mouth to work again even as he spoke, the words slurred and marred by her body.
"I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you-"
He canted his hips against the air, seeking friction that would not come. She had more than enough, dragging herself against his tongue, near-shrieking when his tongue slipped into her entrance, the fabric pliable enough to press just inside her.
"This is your value. A tool to fulfill a purpose." The words fell heavy on his head, each insult stoking his funeral pyre, all the more as they broke with her moans. "My foolish knight. Love- ah! lovesick- pup. Dream of this- alone- hah! in your chambers, worm."
Gods, he was close. He knew a flush suffused his face, only hoped her eyes were closed in ecstasy. He could do this, be this, forever if she demanded it. What was left of his sanity refuse to process the way her cruelty made him climb higher, the nearness of his peak with each drop of her nectar on his doomed tongue!
The princess, for her part, knew well what made her pant and writhe above her knight- she loved his weakness, the pathetic confessions into her clothed sex, the fervent adoration of his mouth. The way he had not resisted when she denied him access, had crawled to his rightful place at the foot of her throne.
Behind her tight-closed eyelids, she saw him returning from battle, blood splashed across his chestplate in her name. She saw the set of his jaw as he removed his helmet, ignoring wounds, postponing rest to kneel and report to her. She saw the taut muscles of his back rippling as he trained outside her window, every shadow extinguished for her protection. She saw the strain in his whole being when she allowed him near, the moments he thought he had stolen, handed over with wicked delight.
She opened her eyes to see him, taut as a bow, desperately devouring her, white-knuckled as he clung to himself. She saw the frantic throbbing below his waist, his own need untouched as he saw to hers. She saw his wrecked lips still shaping professions of love, all because she bid it.
The princess came with a strangled cry, bent forward over Levi's body, soaking well and truly through her final garment so that she spilled into his mouth. Pinned by her weight he could do nothing but accept it, drinking her down like fine wine that he knew and did not care was poisoned.
For at her climax, Levi followed- as he always did, and would until she bade him follow her into death. He spent himself, his cry lost between her legs, swallowed up between them. Untouched, unhelped by any hand, the knight left that final dignity at the foot of his princess's throne.
The princess pushed him away, when she caught her breath. Levi stayed where she left him and dragged the back of his shaking hand across his defiled face. If the princess regretted the scene, she did not show it. She merely smoothed her voluminous skirts back over her ruined chemise. A long silence stretched between them.
Levi broke it, as she had broken him. "My lady?"
"Leave me, Levi." A softer voice than any he had heard this night.
He stood sharply, made to turn away. But wonder stayed him. His name? From her lips? He half-turned back to her, but saw only a stony visage.
"I said leave me. Do not begin resisting now, after such depravity," she added coldly. "Lick your wounds out of my sight."
He bowed so low that she could not mistake his meaning. "As you will, my lady. Always."
A prince who can't sleep and so steals his way down to the barracks in nothing but a sheer robe. There are a handful of knight sitting around a table, playing cards. They all rise at the sight of their prince. Has something gone wrong? You should be in bed. But the prince demands they deal him into their card game. They do, joking that perhaps the prince will wager money that they could win as a bonus. The prince refuses and the teasing and jokes die off. His wager, he says, is himself. The use of his body for the night. The knights' mouths drop open. They mutter and shuffle, none voicing the filthy thoughts in their heads.
They deal him in and the game begins. The prince plays terribly. He tells them if he loses his wager still stands. The winner will have him for the night. The knights get knocked out of the game one by one until a winner is declared.
The prince stands and gracefully discards his robe. He asks the knight where they should go, or if he would like for them to stay in the common area so that the others can watch. Immediately, the others begin talking over each other to beg and reason for them to stay. The prince makes the decision that they would stay. The others asked so nicely, and technically they did all beat him in cards.
The winning knight strips off his breeches and sets the prince in his lap. The prince grinds his ass against his knight until impatience takes the man and he shoves himself into his prince. The other knights are crowded around them. Filthy words fly from their mouths as they watch. They give the knight suggestions on what he should do to the prince. One of them grows bold enough to tease the prince for the small size of his cock. When he moans at the man's words, several more chime in to degrade him more.
Long before the knight is finished with him, the prince cums, the fluid arcing up to splash against his stomach. The other knights cheer and tease him. He cums twice more before his knight finally spills deep within him.
Princess is young, early to mid 20s. She has spurned every suitor that has come to call. At their wits end, the king and queen arrange a marriage behind her back. She is being sent to be the bride to a warrior prince from another kingdom. She threatens her parents that she will either run away away or kill herself if she's forced to go through with the marriage. Eventually they come to the compromise that she's allowed to take one knight and one maid with her. The princess enjoys pitting the men against each other. She's also v horny in general.
The knight she chooses is one that she has started a secret affair with. He's in his late 30s to early 40s. When he came back from a years long campaign and sees how beautiful the princess has become he is immediately smitten. The two of them flirt for months, before the princess grows bold enough to make a proper move. The knight has a tendency to look down on other knights until they prove their worth to him.
The warrior prince is in his early 30s. He's surprisingly gentle when he wants to be. He's also very very protective. He sets out early to woo the princess. He wants to be a father, not just because he's expected to sire an heir, but because he genuinely wants a child. Wait, sorry, I forgot to give him a flaw. He's got a jealous streak.
He and the knight pretty quickly become something akin to rivals. They both constantly show off and peacock for the princess. Each vies for her attention and try to out do one another.
There's something about sucking a knight's fingers after they've been relieved of their gauntlets and gloves. The taste of sweat and leather and steel between their bloodied knuckles is incomparable. Seeing the heat in their eyes as your tongue dances over their skin, teeth testing against their nails.
They may wield the sword, but your mouth can disarm them as quickly as any strike.
Prince who eagerly gets on his knees for his knight. After a long day of being on high alert guarding the prince, the least the prince could do for his beloved knight is to reward him for how well he's doing.
Princess who convinces her knight that it's not breaking their vows as long as they do anal. She coaxes him into her room every night to get absolutely railed. His hands in her hair. His mouth on her neck and back. Her moans smothered in her pillow as he ruts into her.
what is the ideal monster type to be your loyal knight in shining armor?
I've been into werebears lately so I'm gonna go with that. Big, muscular but with a nice layer of fat over everything. Hands the size of your face. Can you imagine how small your hands would look in comparison? A low, deep voice telling you that he'll protect you to his dying breath. No need for gauntlets when he has actual claws made to rip and maim. His cloak like a blanket to you when you're caught in a sudden storm and have to take shelter in a cave. Cradling you in his arms by the fire while you dry off and warm up. Curling up next to you as you burrow into his cloak. His arm the perfect pillow.
