you could call me babe for the weekend

Flora

Things might only be working for Asta on a superficial level but quite the opposite is true for the queen. Finding it just as attractive to see the butcher's defenses crumble with a single tear of her blood as it was to see them remain in place—because of how much he cared for her safety Flora told herself—the gentle press of his lips against hers only further fanned the flames in her belly rather than dialling back the intensity between them. It very nearly had her guiding his hand between her thighs; there was no reason she couldn't enjoy her time with him, even if he had to stay restrained, was there?

Instead, Flora straightened, her breasts rising and falling with every breath such that her nipples all but teased themselves against the silk. Flushed, the queen smirks up at the butcher, lips twisting as her eyes flinch down between them. "My dress is still on the floor, you know." She whispers teasingly, leadingly. Having no reason at all to think that her words will have the butcher doing anything but instantly kneeling to right that particular wrong, if he does, he'll feel the queen's hand softly on his shoulder. Given their height differences it's a rather delicious vantage point for Flora, who lifts her hand from his shoulder in order to curl it into his hair, before slipping her calf where her fingers had just been over his shoulder. "One more mark?" She whispers, raising an eyebrow, the tug of her fingers encouraging his gaze onto the flesh of her inner thigh, where it had practically been plated for him.

Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep

Code stolen from Queen Sky