008 » maybe i'm in need of an angel

[royalist]

fanart by 8koenji.bsky.social.
for louis at luciferi.

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[royalist]

[ Will can't help himself: he lets out a whine, high-pitched and playful and thoroughly displeased. Why is Louis teasing him now of all times? When he's so impatient he feels like he might burst out of his own skin if his gorgeous husband doesn't fuck him stupid in the next second? He wiggles in his seat, but given that that seat is a swing, he almost unbalances himself in the doing of it, and then he lets out another unhappy whine. Oh, the life of the king of Euchronia is so difficult. ]

I've been a little hard since I first saw you...

[ He admits this freely, since it's true; something about seeing Louis all prim and proper in that common soldier's uniform drives him mad. That gentle pinch to his nipple brings him some relief, but not enough; he needs more than this, more and more and more. He bites his lip in response, tensing up in the prettiest sort of way, thin shoulders held taut with arousal. There's a pretty blush on his cheeks now, too. But as he looks up at Louis, and undoes the buttons of his pants, wiggling himself free of his trousers and underwear on the swing — ah, he might well and truly be the lewdest little king in the world. ]

I just think... you're so cute...

[ Cute? Really? It can't just be cute, or he wouldn't be this hard. But it's true that Will thinks Louis can be very, very cute sometimes. ]

[luciferi]

[ that's certainly not what he expected.

cute?

that's not a term that's usually associated with him. terrifying, yes, even words like haunting and flawless, but certainly not cute. since when has Will thought of him has cute? it's not so long ago that they were caught in a bitter battle together, challenging one another.

still, Louis keeps him from falling, shifting the weight on the swing so he can balance himself without tumbling to the ground. as gleeful a moment as that would be, his duty as consort is to make his king look good, and a country is only as good as its king looks on some level (on an oversimplified level, but he was certain that there would be some onlookers that caught sight of them before he could make a threat).

he holds the knit of the rope steady as Will discards the rest of his clothes, holding himself as a statue for the king to lean on if needed. he's good at playing soldier, perhaps because he did it for so long before this.

when drops his clothing, Louis tilts his head down to take a kiss. he's direct about it, spontaneous and demanding, capturing the king's mouth in his own as if he were defying an order. another gets pressed to the pink of his cheeks, near the soft hairs beneath his ear. ]

State your orders before I form my own, Captain.

[ there's a little game to this: will Louis listen or not, and will Will be enticing enough for Louis to listen? or will he receive one of Louis Guiabern's gleeful defiances? the ones that he seems to find thrilling – that both of them seem to find thrilling. ]

[royalist]

[ Naked on the swing with Louis towering over him, Will feels anything but kingly in the moment, though this entire fantasy is what he himself asked for. It occurs to him too late that he's put himself in a truly precarious position indeed: at the mercy of his beautiful consort, nude in the garden for all the palace to see if they only look down from the upper floors. (Surely they won't be spied on — ah, surely the boughs of the tree will help to obscure what they're doing, and even if they are seen, he is the king, but —)

Still — all of Will's doubts in his own guilty pleasures are dispelled when Louis captures his lips in that hotly demanding way of his, as if the king's kisses are a prize he must seize by his own hand. Louis claims his lips, his cheeks, closer to his ear — Louis kisses him like he loves him, and this puts Will so completely at ease that he melts for his husband, relaxing visibly. Will kisses back, just as hot and demanding as his lover; as always, whether he knows it or not, Louis has encouraged him to be more selfish, more of a tyrant. More of the king that Louis wants him to be, perhaps — though he'll never compromise on his own principles.

Will kisses back, and when he pulls away — he licks his lips.

His Majesty is always so, so greedy. ]

...I want you to fuck me on this swing.

[ Will Louis take him like this, face-to-face? Or bend him over, have him cling to the ropes with the swing's seat to support him? Perhaps even one of those gleeful defiances, the ones Louis always manages to sneak in, as if to remind his husband that they used to be archrivals — Will can't wait to find out. ]

I want you to take me... claim me like a man possessed. I want you... as if all you need is me...

[ As sweetly as if he's only requesting a bit of extra jam at breakfast, Will tips his head coyly to one side, his bare legs askew as he sits in his pretty little swing. ]

Do I make myself clear?