"are you ready your majesty?" + stella and whoever you want from fate?
“Are you ready, your majesty?”
Stella pauses, debating rising from where she’s currently settled herself between Beatrix’s thighs.
Beatrix winces as Stella’s grip tightens on her knees but she quickly pushes through the discomfort to needle further, her dark eyes shining with anticipation.
“Ooh, that gets you going, doesn’t it, my queen,” Bea’s voice is sing-song and malicious.
The heat in Stella’s cheeks is as uncomfortable as the wetness between her own legs, and she’s about to answer when she feels Beatrix’s hand curl into her hair, urging her downwards.
She obeys because this - this - is at least one situation where it’s not necessary for her to make the right choice.