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minhosimthings · 10 months ago

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Dances Avec Les Etoiles ft. Heeseung

Synopsis: God how boring is love? For Lee Heeseung, it was perhaps the most boring thing in this rotten world. But for his parents, it meant buisness. And buisness meant getting Heeseung married off to a princess from another kingdom. And when the princess shares a peculiar interest, Heeseung starts to believe in Cupid again.

Pairings: Prince!Heeseung × Princess!fem!reader

Warnings: Brief smut scene in the beginning (not with reader), SMUT MINORS DNI (with reader), fingering, edging, orgasm control, french kissing hehe, dom!Heeseung × kinda dom!reader, mentions of food, sexual tension, hee is kind of a pervert, suggestive at places, fluff, swearing, angst, did I mention sexual tension, enemies to lovers (kind of), arranged marriage, playboi heeseung × playgirl!reader, reader wants adventure and Heeseung is the adventure

A/N: I have been writing and editing this for so long now and it's only part 1! Thank you for being patient with me and I promise to release the second part which has more smut in it very soon! @candewlsy your daddy papi has arrived

Part 1 || Part 2 || The wedding

The French Quotes Series Masterlist

Lee Heeseung was a man of logic.

Which left no room for the poetry in him, although he did say that he enjoyed it a lot.

He was a prince, a ruler soon to ascend the golden throne of Tarnow. Stupid name, he had always thought, it sounded like a wheelbarrow carrying a bunch of tar pieces.

But he had often heard that the poets never allowed someone to go on with their life just like that. What kind of poets would they be if they did that?

And so he had to be betrothed. With a star studded ring on his finger, an imitation of a smile on his face, and a bride by his arm. And a ceremony where there would be flowers, and dancing.

Dancing!

Heeseung had a clandestine love for dancing. The curve of arms and fingers, the movement of hips, the ballet of the feet twirling to create an invisible picture on the ground. And yet, no one knew of this rendezvous of his. Well, almost no one.

"Hyung are you really sure you're alright?" Heeseung's daydream was interrupted by a honey sweet voice from above him. "Get down from the tree, idiot." Another voice, strong as iron reprimanded him.

Sim Jake and Park Jay.

Two of Heeseung's band of best friends.

They had grown up together, due to their parents being close friends, what with the never ending borders they shared between the kingdoms. And he could always count on them to give him advice, whether it be of a bastard's or of a sage's.

"Unless you want to break your arm again, get down from that dumb tree." Jay scolded the brown haired boy, who was, at the moment, hanging upside down from a willow tree, "But you need another reason to visit your best friend don't you loverboy?" Jay added with a cheeky smile.

"As if you have more love in your life" Jake shot back, promptly jumping down from the branches onto the grass with a soft thump.

"Would you two stop bickering and help me out of my current predicament?" Heeseung snapped, letting out a sigh and leaning against the bark of the willow. He had always liked this particular tree. He remembered his mother's hands carefully handling the roots and planting the tiny sapling into the wet mud, talking about how the Duchess' daughter had ran off with some ragamuffin. It was a majestic tree now, like how the poets described the trees of the Gods to be like. He had liked that poem a lot, the one about trees and princesses and first kisses under first snows.

"You're going to get married to a completely random princess, big deal." Jay rolled his eyes, settling comfortably onto the freshly mowed grass. He was often the more mature one out of all of them.

"Where on earth are Sunghoon and Sunoo?" Heeseung questioned, checking his pocket watch. He shook his head, his other two friends didn't exactly know the meaning of being on time.

"Probably kissing themselves." Jake smirked, flicking a leaf at Jay to annoy him, which worked when Jay got up from his sleeping position with a glare smeared on his face and slapped Jake's head.

"Just pretend you have affection towards her and all that and it'll be over in a minute." Jay adviced wisely, looking over at Heeseung's drooping figure. "I wish it was that easy." Heeseung sighed, "I don't want to get married, what if she's snobbery?"

"Hyung don't get poetic." Jay said sternly, moving his head to face Heeseung, "What is even love in these ages? And I am sure she'll be wonderful enough to make you some heirs."

"What's her name again?" Jake questioned, looking at the tree with his tongue stuck out, probably contemplating whether he should climb it again or not, "I hear she's of the far East."

"Princess Y/N of the Kingdom of Witchelm." Heeseung scoffed, "Ooh maybe they have witches!"

"Absolutely not." Jay sighed with a tiring expression.

"Whatever, I'm hoping to pay Priscilla a visit today." Heeseung pushed his hair out of his face.

"Does she love you yet?" Jake ashed with a cheeky grin.

"God I hope not." Heeseung shuddered, "She's just got a good mouth and a nice pussy for me to take. See you later boys."

"Fuck I needed this." Heeseung sighed laying back. The girl looked up at him as she placed her hand onto his cock, her other hand resting on his thigh. She licked the underside of it slowly back up, circling her tongue around the head.

"Fuck has your mouth gotten prettier since last time?" Heeseung chuckled, looking at the girl.

"Shut up and let me do my work." She responded, "You know this is the last time right?"

Heeseung scoffed and placed his hands on her head. "I know."

The girl took the head into her mouth, causing him to jolt. He patted her head which soon turned into him gripping her hair when she went back down again, now bobbing her head up and down. Making sure she reached all the way to the base, Heeseung helped by pushing Priscilla down further.

“Keep doing that thats a good girl” he stuttered out. The hand that was on his thigh reached down to massage his balls, lightly squeezing.

Would his new bride be good at giving him what he wants? Heeseung didn't know anything about her. Nor did he care really. She's probably the regular Mary Jane, a dull lifeless, smiling body, without balance in anything. He wished and prayed fervently that some sort of ballerina took her place instead.

Maybe that'd finally make him happy.

The reflection of Heeseung's mirror stared back at him, not noticing the utter beauty of his eyes. He never cared much for his handsome features, much preferring when people complemented how light he was on his feet.

But it was shameful for his parents.

Dancing? For a crown Prince? Preposterous!

It would have been outrageous if the kingdom found out that their prince preferred dancing over decrees. It wasn't that his mother and father didn't encourage his dancing, they loved seeing their son do what he loved. But to be a prince, a ruler, was to keep a reputation, and that couldn't be spoilt by something their son loved doing.

Heeseung sighed, taking a deep breath and counting his steps, every slow movement bringing him his happiness back inch by inch. Would his bride like dancing?, he wondered, that would be a pleasant thing. Atleast one thing in common with her.

His thoughts wandered carelessly as his feet did, sliding across the floor effortlessly, a gentle sway of the arm here and there, the ballet of a sawn without his mate.

He would be betrothed by tomorrow.

A fateful tomorrow, he hoped.

"And now we introduce, Princess Y/N of the Witchelm Kingdom!"

The man had a ridiculously nasally voice in Heeseung's opinion. Maybe they should replace him with someone who doesn't sound much like a parrot.

"Heeseung stand up straight." Heeseung's mother snapped at him from his right shoulder. Silently grumbling, he obeyed and adjusted his drooping figure along with the drowsy expression on his face. He would have rather ate a carrot than do this right now. The sound of bells and trumpets and what not, and all the ridiculously maroon stained curtains irritated him far too much. The sun was broiling hot, and there was not even an inch of a cloud in the sky. And his nose was rather itchy as well. Perhaps he should ask Jake for that rum again...

"Welcome to Tarnow, Princess." His father's formal voice broke Heeseung out of his train of thoughts, and as he snapped back to his senses, he realised the presence of a figure standing before him. Not caring to lift his eyes to look at the figure, he quickly bowed.

"How was the journey, my dear?" His mother asked in a saccharine sweet voice. She only ever used them with babies, Jay and extra important guests.

"Well the carriage certainly did not like the hefty rocks, but it was pleasant." Heeseung thought he had heard an angel speak for a moment, "Your kingdom is magnificent, Your Majesties." The figure in front of Heeseung curtsied, and that's when he caught a whiff of her perfume.

It was intoxicating, as if it was pulling his closer.

His eyes flickered up, to take a peek at the woman. She was clad in deep shades of maroon with gold trimmings illuminating her figure perfectly. Was this his bride to be?

"Prince Heeseung." You threw a curtsy to him, noticing the way his fawn like eyes were staring at you. Maybe the rumours were right. All the princes of Paradoxica were scoundrels who lounged after women.

"Princess Y/N." Heeseung finally bowed back, and you took note of the fact that his eyes stayed to the ground, not lingering over your figure as most usually did. Maybe he did have a tinge of respect in him.

"Well why wait here in this heat? Shall we lunch inside?" The Queen said in a joviant manner, extending her hand to you, which you took gratefully and stepped inside the castle walls, finally feeling at peace.

You were completely unaware of the pair of deer eyes following you.

Heeseung's first thought upon seeing you was the way you wore yourself. He had often learnt that the best of dancers always moved differently, which was always evident whenever he'd attend balls. The truest dancers would always walk as if they owned the very earth they walked on. Heeseung always felt that they had clouds for shoes.

And the way you walked, the way you held your shoulders, the way you each step echoed with the sound of the air, there was no way you couldn't have been a dancer like him.

But you were a princess, he reminded himself, his soon to be Queen. Dancing was to be put to the side for some time.

Or so he thought.

The luncheon had went quite well in your opinion. Apart from the fact that the King and Queen would not stop talking about the proposal ceremony and the wedding, and their son smirking into his peas whenever his parents came upon the topic of grandchildren, it had gone by in a breeze.

You were happy that Heeseung hadn't talked to you. You were far too tired to have any 'getting to know each other' conversations. He seemed a bit monotonous to you, at first glance atleast. You had always learnt never to judge a book by it's cover. But sometimes advice was made to be ignored, so you simply went on with your day, not caring about what kind of a person Heeseung was.

The rumours were enough for you to summarise his persona anyway. The people of Witchelm talked about him as if he was a splendid rose, one everyone wanted to take a look at. Kind, courageous, handsome, generous, blah blah blah. You would rather have married a fish if it was described as more interesting than him. Although the rumour that he really 'got around' in terms of pleasure had interested you. If that had been true, maybe you did like him. Atleast he would be understanding to the fact that had lied to everyone that you were still a virgin.

Tarnow had been a luxuriant kingdom, known to everyone as the first kingdom formed in all of Paradoxica, the oldest one, it spoke quite well through the aching castle walls when you were exploring the southern wing.

It was in a word, beautiful, with the fading architecture and all the women clad in luxurious silver, dancing their hearts out on the street. How you wished ever so fervently that you could join them.

Dancing was your life ever since you took your first steps. Witchelm was renowned for dancing, for ballet, ballroom and everything in between. It was a pity that you hadn't heard anything about the hobbies of the Prince. Perhaps he preferred dancing too. That would be a pleasant surprise, you thought, as you stepped into your chambers, where all your luggage had been arranged neatly.

"I think I can take over from now on." You curtsied to the girl who had led you over to the chambers. She bowed back and was about to leave when you thought to ask her the question that had been lingering in your mind for long.

"Is there a ballroom here?" The girl turned back abruptly at your question. She had hair as dark as coal and eyes even darker. A pretty sight.

"Oh yes, your Highness." She smiled at you, "We have the biggest ballroom in all of Paradoxica in fact. Most of the King's balls and state dances are held here."

"Then, there must be a place where they practice their dances is there not?"

The girl chuckled at your question and clicked her feet together.

"There is a humongous room in the western part of the castle that's basically empty space for dancing. But the Crown Prince spends most of his time there at night, so we aren't allowed to go there much. I can show you the way if you want."

"The western wing." You sat on the bed with a soft thump, "I can find my route don't worry. Thank you for everything."

The crown prince and dancing..... Peculiar. Very peculiar, you thought as you lay on the bed. You were thankful for finally getting out of the heavy purple gown, and putting on some actually comfortable robes. Although you had begged your mother to let you wear your favourite lavender shades, your mother has refused and put you in the darkest and most sweltering maroon gown. It was safe to say that you were a panting dog by the time you got out of the gown.

Picking up your quill and paper, you smoothed out the creases as you thought about what to write to your best friend back home. Gaeul was the kind of person to find out everything about someone before loving them, no matter what methods she used, so it wouldn't be a problem if you wrote 'i think the Prince likes dancing because a girl told me an extremely insignificant detail' in the letter to be sent to her.

Dipping your quill into the ink pot, you were about to start your letter when-

Knock knock knock

The door tapped thrice. It was safe to say that you were confused. Lunch was just five hours ago and it wasn't even dinner time yet, the sun hadn't set even though the sky had turned a deep purple.

Donning a clock over your robes, you stepped out of the comfortable silks of the bed and strode over to the magnificent, carved door. Tugging on the handle, the door made a creaking noise at it opened, making you cringe at the sound. You caught a figure lingering at the door. The same girl was there, the one who had led you here earlier today.

"Oh hello there." You said, opening the door to its full length, "What is the matter?"

The girl shuffled her feet before your eyes fell on her hands. A tiny black box.

"Someone left this in my chambers with a note attached to it your Highness." She said, "It gave the instruction to give it to you."

You looked at the box with uncertainty before snapping your eyes up to the girl. You took the box from her, your finger gently brushing against hers.

"What is your name?" You questioned, realising that you hadn't asked for it before. "Giselle, Your Highness." She answered, still looking at the ground.

"Thank you Giselle. You may go now." You shot her a smile which she returned meekly and scampered off.

Closing the door behind you, you eyed the box with uncertainty. What if it was some poison which wafted into the air as soon as you opened it? What if there was a lizard inside? You really did hate those dumb creatures. Thousands of thoughts flooded your mind as you looked at the box. You were reminded of your father's words to stop reading so many books with plots of bloodshed and mystery. As if you'd ever stop.

Caressing the box with your hand, you noticed how fine of a quality it had, it couldn't have been sent by any ordinary person. You lifted the lid of the box with hesitation running through your veins, only to find inside......a necklace?

A dainty pearl necklace lay inside the box, along with a tiny note, which you did not notice at first. You were far too captivated by the shimmering necklace. Pearls were a rare occurence in Witchelm, with it being a landlocked kingdom. But Tarnow, you had heard, had a vast coastline, so pearls were easily found.

You pondered upon who it could have been sent by. A secret admirer perhaps? The thought did excite you. But who on earth would send a box like this in these times?

As your thoughts ran wild through a forest again, your hand slightly tilted the box, and the note fell out. You bent down to pick it up and immediately took note of the fact that it was paper which was used for royal decrees. A secret admirer from the ministry?

Unfortunately your mind was disappointed as you ran your eyes through the note.

Wear it for me princess. Love, Heeseung.

Of course. A secret admirer, what were you even thinking? No one would have the courage to give the princess of a foreign country, a pearl necklace.

Rolling your eyes, you settled the box and the necklace into a drawer and put the tiny note into a separate one. The prince had a handsome signature, far better than your scribbles anyway.

The western wing had never seemed like a more interesting place

"I hope you find the chambers a comfortable place my dear?" The Queen's voice rang in your ear. God the atmosphere of the dining table made your hands sweaty.

The little conversations you had with the King and Queen weren't enough conversation for you. It was too.....formal, to regal. You wanted fun, but you knew you wouldn't get that. Not until tonight atleast.

Your plan to sneak out into the western wing was extremely flawed but you had not a care in the world. So what if there would be hundreds of people standing guard? You were quick on your feet, a dancer's gift.

You had silently observed Heeseung throughout the dining session. He seemed quiet, all the talkative ones do at first glance. You noticed the way his foot tapped away every now and then without a care and his fingers drummed his fork in hand. You hadn't a single idea if it was on purpose or not. You had read in the book Gaeul once loaned you that artists, like painters or dancers, can never keep their body still. They always have to be doing something with their hands or feet. So either Heeseung was secretly a painter, or he was a dancer. The former seemed to have more possibilities but it could always be the latter considering Giselle's words about the western wing.

Only one way to find out.

Your skin was filled with goosebumps as you walked down the chilly corridor. You were greatly surprised that there weren't many guards, perhaps Tarnow cared less about security.

You shouldn't doing this, this is dangerous, said a voice in your mind, but did you ever listen to it? No, no you did not.

The western wing was easy to locate, what with the huge painting of a woman pointing her finger towards a large corridor, with the words "Western wing" engraved onto the painting. It was darker than the other parts of the castle, maybe it was a secret wing shut off to everyone else except the Prince. There weren't many doors here either, which caused you to let out a sigh of relief. The dancing room would be easier to find.

And it indeed was, as you now stood in front of a huge oak door, the only one for miles on end. You hoped fervently that it wouldn't creak like the door to your chambers. And to your relief, it thankfully didn't, and the spectacle inside made you let out a gasp.

The prince.

So he wasn't a painter after all.

He was a dancer!

A plain show of beauty, you thought, the Prince was. He looked ordinary at first glance, but now, as your eyes trailed his moving figure, his feet gracefully gliding across the floor, hitting each moment to the melodies of the song he was humming, you'd have thought it was Apollo's incarnate himself. You were mesmerized by him, by his every movement, he was gentler than a swan with his fingers, his robe moving in sync as if he had been commanding it.

My my, he looked like a groom in need of a bride, you thought. You didn't know whether it was past midnight yet, even as the clock struck itself and made a loud noise, you were too distracted by the dancing prince. You would have loved to watch him for a bit more, if not for-

CREAK!

Stupid door!

Heeseung's head whipped around to the door as his humming and dancing stopped abruptly. "Who's there?" He cried, clutching his hand to his sword belt, "Come out!"

There was only one idea in your mind at that moment.

Run.

You hoped fervently the next day that the bags under your eyes would be put off by everyone as exhaustion from the long journey. You hoped that no one thought "Oh the princess obviously must have sneaked out to the dance room and ogled the prince!" Although the possibility of that happening was very low.

You slyly avoided the Queen's questions about your sleep by asking her about when the royal potrait of the groom and bride to be would be painted. And she responded with much happiness that it was to be this afternoon!

This afternoon. With the prince. Wasn't that a joy?

Your schedule was much packed that day, which was disappointing since you had wanted to sneak out to see the main ballroom which Giselle had informed you was in the Northern wing. First, you had to get into your gown for the portrait, which would easily take the entire afternoon. Then the actual portrait session would arrive and God knows how much time a simple layer of paint will take to dry.

"Do you paint my darling?" The Queen asked. "Yes." You answered, knowing damn well you couldn't draw a line if you wanted to. Well a lie in a lie is a truth wasn't it?

Afternoon arrived and so did the sweat drops on your forehead. Damn this gown, you thought as you dragged the heavy on the floor. You decided the first thing you'd do after becoming Queen is ban whatever material this is.

Approaching the door where the Queen had directed you to, you took the handle in hand and tapped it thrice to let whoever was inside know that you had arrived. "Come in." A familiar princely voice answered.

Oh great.

"My Lord." You sunk into a curtsey, not letting your eyes meet Heeseung's. Had he always been this tall and handsome or were you dreaming?

"Heeseung, princess, call me Heeseung." He wore pride quite well in his cunning smirk, you thought, as you looked at him quintessentially.

"Then you may call me by my name as well." You replied, glancing behind him to see an easel propped up, "Where is the painter?"

"Oh him? He's always late." Heeseung leaned back against the table behind him, "So princess, enjoying the palace's attractions?"

"Stop calling me that." You said, rolling your eyes out of annoyance, "And if the attraction is you, then no I'm not." He made the word seem like an enchanting melody, the handsome bastard.

"Would you prefer darling?" He smirked, pushing the stray strands of hair out of his face again. He looked like a siren, pulling you into an ocean you wanted to escape from, but didn't know how.

"Say, my darling," he leaned forward, looking at you with darkened eyes, "You're still a virgin aren't you?"

"Why, do you want to corrupt me?" You scoffed, settling yourself down on the loveseat, "Well bad luck, I'm not."

Heeseung looked taken aback for a moment, his eyes widened and he blinked a few times, but he composed himself quickly.

"Ah we have a little liar do we?" He chuckled lowly, his eyes still looking you up and down, "So you're a bad girl aren't you?"

"I don't care Lee." You crossed your arms, "This is just a marriage for politics, there's no way in hell you are going to magically make me fall in love with you, like in the books."

"You read romance?" Heeseung cocked his head to the side, "Well there's a thing we have in common."

The door to the room burst open before you could get another retort out and you breathed a sigh of relief as the painter rushed in with his assistants and started running about arranging everything.

You were even more thankful when you had to sit down for the portrait, far away from Heeseung. Although a weird pose, you supposed the painter would magically make something out of it.

Heeseung was more interesting that you had previously thought. Atleast he didn't treat you with the insufferable respect most princes did. He was....cocky, rude, daring. A rather sweet taste on your tongue.

Oh how you couldn't wait to sneak out to the west wing again.

You remembered to bring a shawl this time, draping it around your shoulders so that the cold, carved rock of the palace wouldn't let your skin break. You cursed yourself for almost knocking over a piece of what looked like driftwood sitting atop a table, willing aways it's time. The kingdom of Tarnow really had its unusual traditions.

The conversation you had with Heeseung today ran in your mind over and over again and again. You liked the taste of him, the way he stood, the way he held himself. And the way he spoke. You were going to have to come up with new retorts everyday. Well that's more interesting than suffering a life of 'i love you' or 'i will die for you'.

But for now, peering at him through the slightly ajar door was more than enough. Oh how he danced, the movements he made, an astral ballet in the air. He looked at peace, that cocky and confident demeanor was no more, it was replaced, instead by calm and cool. Your eyes tried not to linger to his waist and arms, how his shirt pressed tightly against his muscles. The sinful thought of having a touch of them echoed through your mind. The curve of his body fascinated you, oh he looked as pretty as an angel. Perhaps there is more to Heeseung than you thought.

"She's interesting, too Interesting." Heeseung drawled, as he chewed on his quill tip. To his right sat Park Sunghoon, another crown prince, who had inherited his kingdom without marriage and without everything Heeseung despised. At the moment, he was the only one who could provide Heeseung some comfort.

"Interesting as in she didn't fawn over you or interesting as in she's no a virgin?"

"Both." Heeseung answered leaning back in his chair, "And she's such a mystery, god I want to know more about her."

"There is a thing called conversation you know." A third voice called from across the room. A red haired man was sitting atop the table, casually willing away at grapes.

Kim Sunoo. The youngest crown prince.

"Oh really?" Heeseung smirked, "I though conversation wasn't mandatory or what was it you said last time Sunoo? 'Conversation is only for the loveless?'."

"You know who I meant it for." Sunoo rolled his eyes and hopped off the table promptly, "Anyway the Princess of Witchelm seemed a lovely character. I had a brief incursion with her out in the garden, and she's.....interesting."

"That's what hyung said too." Sunghoon popped a grape in his mouth from the table, clenching his face at the sour taste, "Just run up to her and you know, ask her what she likes."

"Great advice, Sunghoon."

"As if you can do better."

The gardens of Tarnow were a place you reveled in. The freshly mown grass, the sweet scent of daffodils, and the sight of bees almost everywhere elated you. And most importantly, the willow tree.

The grandiose tree reminded you of someone who knew what they were worth, like a Queen who knows exactly what she wants. That's who you wanted to be. A Queen who rebelled, headstrong like your mother always told you to be. And you would fill the streets with dance, music and laughter. Maybe even prompt Heeseung to show off his moves....

"And to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Death would have been more pleasurable than to endure Heeseung right now, as his voice disrupted your peace and quiet.

"You owe your hand in marriage apparently." You stared straight at him, not daring to break eye contact, which was hard considering how menacing Heeseung's stare was.

"Admiring the willow eh princess?" Heeseung plopped down next to you, landing on the grass with a soft thump, "You know, I planted this when I was an adorable child."

"Adorable?" You scoffed, "More like a fiend." Heeseung chuckled at your statement, turning his head to look out towards the landscape.

"I planted most of the trees in this garden." He said, staring ahead with unwavering affection in his eyes at all the greenery, "They've grown a lot since then, my mother says that planting them at a young age allows them to grow with you." The love in his tone made you want to coo at him, but you composed yourself, remembering what kind of a person he was.

"Was that too cheesey?" Heeseung smiled, turning his eyes to yours. "Just a little." You responded, not having the heart to break the moment.

The silence that followed was a dire one, but it was peaceful. Heeseung and you sat in it as if you were fluent, letting the breeze whip your hair about, and the grass seep into your veins. You were so immersed in the butterfly landing on the daffodil that you didn't even notice the leaves sticking to your hair.

"Your hair looks like a bird's nest right now, princess." You heard Heeseung laugh as you turned your head towards him. "Excuse me?" You said, pulling your hand up to stroke your hair, being horrified when you pulled pieces of leaves sticking to it.

"Oh for fuck's sake." You mumbled under your breath, "Ah damn this, I'm going back to the chambers. Good day, Heeseung."

"With a nest in your hair?" Heeseung raised a cocky brow, "Princess, be logical. No one is going to respect a future Queen who looks like she's walked out of a jungle." Heeseung's words were mean but true, "You know I can just remove them, if you ask kindly with that pretty mouth of yours."

You had never wanted to slam his head into a wall more than now. But your reputation also mattered. You were torn between the two choices; Heeseung or risking your reputation?

"Fine." You sat back down on the ground, "Take them out."

"Nicer, princess. Add a pretty please too."

Oh he was on thin ice. You rolled your eyes and grumbled, "Could you please take these leaves out of my hair? Pretty please?"

The scent of Heeseung's neck pressed to your nose as he leaned over to remove the leaves carefully. He touched your hair rather gently, as if you were a fragile doll, which surprised you. Your hand kept lingering at his stomach, holding itself back from touching his muscles.

"There." Heeseung leant back, "All pretty princess again." "Thanks." You muttered, making your way to get up.

"Uh uh uh princess, we aren't done yet." Heeseung pulled you back down, making you snatch your hand away from him, "I want to strike a deal with you."

That night as you watched Heeseung dance gracefully on the stone floor, you wondered how this was the same person you had met in the morning. The same person who had made you a wretched deal, now danced under soft candlelight, unaware of his future bride watching him through clandestine corners.

"Meet me in my chambers tomorrow, and I'll think about not spilling to everyone, your little 'pureness' secret."

Fuck the world. That was your first thought as you woke up the next day, got dressed, had breakfast, had a conversation with the Queen, and made your way down to Heeseung's chambers.

For what purpose must this have been done? For what purpose did you have to be betrothed to a man like him?

"Fine day, isn't it princess?" Heeseung smirked at you from behind his desk. Papers and scrolls were strewn all over the desk, along with ink pots and a couple of what seemed to be drying paintings. A few more were hung up on the wall.

"Is this why your mother asked me if I paint?" You traced your finger over a dried painting of a daffodil. Still life, boring as it may be, still caught your eye. Heeseung smiled to himself.

"She asks everyone that, thinks her grandchildren will be some sort of prodigies." "Grandchildren?" You looked up from the painting to Heeseung's smug face, "We aren't even close to friends and she wants grandchildren?"

"Rule of Law princess, there's an entire book about it." Heeseung leaned back, spreading his legs a bit further, god that shirt stuck to his muscles well.

"What am I doing here anyway?" You scoffed, sitting back on the chair facing him, "You want me to do your assignments or something?"

"Assignments, actually." Before you could blink a huge stack of papers lay in front of you, all stamped with decrees, "And in return you'll get some get sex and your secret not being spilt."

"Good sex?" You laughed haughty, "I highly doubt that. Especially from you."

"You think I can't fuck you better than your lovers?" Heeseung raised a brow at you, leaning back against his desk. "No I don't think so." You simply replied, reaching out a hand to get one of the decrees, but it was caught by Heeseung and before you could even flinch, he had you pressed against the desk.

"Want to test that theory?"

Your retort stuck in your throat when you engaged in a searing kiss and your lips met aimlessly—a real mess of tongues and teeth. Heeseung licked a strip across your teeth and thrust his tongue deeper, exploring the inside of your mouth like a sacred temple with only one chance to visit. Heeseung opened his mouth and gasped, lingering with a few more short, honeyed kisses between his panting breaths and your muffled moans. You scolded yourself for even getting a sound out of yourself at Heeseung's touch.

Heeseung's hand moved up your thigh, and you pressed your mouth to his throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

"That's not the ideal place to leave a mark princess." Heeseung glared at you, to which you merely shrugged your shoulders. So what if Heeseung had a few hickeys on display to the kingdom?

Heeseung's hand travels upto your back, easily removing the dainty dress you had on. You silently thanked Giselle for giving you a dress instead of a gown today.

“is this what you wanted?” you slid your panties to the side, as Heeseung was about to reach further down your slide. He wouldn't have admitted it but he almost drooled at the sight of you. Taking a second to admire you, his voice echoes through your body, “I wonder how many others can have you like this.”

"Not many." You keep your eyes on him, "none of them fuck me as well as I want them to."

You lean forward a bit, making sure he gets a fantastic view of your cleavage. You decide to push the boundaries a bit further, your voice dropping to a sultry tone, fingers playfully tracing the edge of your bra's strap.

Heeseung's exhales a shaky breath, "you're playing with fire, y'know that?" His voice is low, it only spurs the warning and longing lingering inside you.

The world narrows down to the heat of his touch, the electrifying sensation of his fingers on your skin. You feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, mirroring your own anticipation. Heeseung's eyes, lock onto yours, a silent agreement passing between you.

Your nails scrape against his scalp and you squeak in shock as Heeseung's hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against you. The unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful and it’s all you want to hear for the rest of your life. You can’t stop the urge building up inside you, you’re not even certain you can stop moving your hips even if you wanted to.

His fingers catch the waistband of your bottoms. Heeseung traces your clit over the fabric feeling the warm, wet patch you’re leaving in them and then he teasingly slips a finger underneath, swiping two fingers along your slit, thumb, and index finger opening your pussy to his gaze. He presses a finger inside of you, slowly stretching out your tight hole. You groan, and his eyes roll back at the way your walls stretch around him. You rock harder against him, fucking yourself into his finger and wrapping your arms around his neck again. you just want to feel him against you.

"Fuck you're a tight one." Heeseung smirks into the crook of your neck, taking in your delicious scent, "Is this good enough for you princess?"

His half-lidded eyes look up at you as you contort on top of him, feeling overstimulated, with a single finger. He coos, his other hand sweeping over the back of your head sweetly, pushing back stray sweaty hairs. He nudges your nose with his, hand on the back of your neck, and tries to meet your eye. The squelch as his finger fucks into you, fast and deep, is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

You can feel the tightening of your stomach, your intestines begging for air as your mind wants nothing more but to break free. The sweet edge of release feels better than ever with Heeseung than anyone else you've ever done this with. Fuck was he good. Just as you felt his finger sweep across your cunt one more time, and hot liquid come upto your cervix-

"Heeseung!" You gasped, feeling the painful feeling of having him pull his finger away from you. His smirking face added the fuel to the fire of your anger, as he slowly bent away from you, collapsing onto a chair and spreading his legs far. God did you want yourself propped on that thigh.

"I already told you princess." Heeseung's smug voice infuriated you, "Sex as a reward remember? And you haven't done anything so no reward. Simple logic."

"fuck you" "When princess?"

You were thankful Heeseung didn't make you work all night, you had time to admire his dancing again. He seemed so different when he was alone, so much more gentler, and it only made you hate him more. Why all the cocky behaviour when he was surrounded by people? You liked this softer side of him. You wished that he would get the courage to show that side to the world. Maybe in due time as all things come.

The rest of the days went the same. Rise and shine in the morning, greet Giselle as she gave you your bath, breakfast and burrowings, rush off to Heeseung in his chambers, do your 'assigments' whilst glaring at Heeseung, who glared back, get the desk a bit messier than it had been, and then sneak off to the western wing at late night to watch Heeseung. It was a bit redundant, but you liked this. Maybe it was the fact that Heeseung was someone who made you cum properly (although you wouldn't admit it) or maybe it was the fact that, from the past few days, he had started opening up to your more.

Ignoring the fact that your time with each other consisted of making angry retorts, you noticed that now, you knew more about Heeseung than before. His friends, family, ancient history, his hobbies everything, from A to Z was in your memory now. And you had to admit that you liked knowing more about him.

His sunlit eyes everyday as they silently perked up at the sight of you, the way his mouth dropped to give you the daily retort along with a tiny compliment too, the way his smirks now turned into smiles, and the way he leant nonchalantly against the great willow, when you'd go out into the garden for a little rest. Was this the love the poets described?

"Good news princess." Heeseung strode into his chambers as you stretched your neck from sitting in the chair all day completing a decree, "We're having a ball."

Collapsing on his bed with a thump, Heeseung groaned as he stretched out his aching limbs. Jay really did always do a number on him in practice.

"A ball?" You questioned, rising from your seat, walking over to the bed and climbing on, "For us?" Heeseung looked at you and nodded. "It's supposed to be a pre-pre-pre wedding ball, according to mother dearest."

"Will there be dancing?" You asked excitedly. You hadn't danced in so long that your feet longed to be in some tap shoes and a big flowy gown again.

"Yep, and guess what?" Heeseung smiled at you, "We're going to dance together."

"Oh I am an amazing dancer." You bragged, raising your chin high, "So it's fine if I outshine you right?"

"Please, I am much better at dancing." Heeseung sat up, facing you, "It's fine princess, they'll notice you at the wedding if they don't at the ball."

"Dance for me then." You gave him a cheeky smile. Would he agree? This is what you had been wanting for a long time. "No." Heeseung merely said, checking his bitten nails.

"Are you that horrible of a dancer?" You chuckled. But before you had time to laugh more, a fluffy pillow landed straight on your face with force. Heeseung's smile had never been wider.

"Don't do that you bastard!" You cried, picking up a pillow and hitting his shoulder with it to which he laughed raucously. "Or what?" He laughed again, hitting you with the pillow repeatedly. Stray feathers let loose from the pillows but you had not a care in the world as Heeseung chased you around the room with the pillow clutched in his hand. This had been the most fun you've had in ages.

Young love? So refreshing for a narrator isn't it?

You looked stunning. Your reflection, clad in soft hues of your favourite colour stared back at you, as your eyes ran up and down your body, hugged tightly by the fabric.

The ball had came sooner than you had anticipated, maybe it was the fact that you were so excited for it.

You'd be dancing your heart out tonight. With Heeseung. How you had longed to match his movements for so long, and now you finally had the chance.

"How do I look?" You meekly asked Giselle, who looked like a jewel in her own gown. "Like a true Queen, my lady." She giggled, dipping into a tiny curtsy.

"Shall we move then?"

Heeseung hadn't been too excited about the ball. He had seen too many of them to be entertained by any. And plus, there wasn't a proper lady to dance with either. Where were you? His thoughts, which were running aloof, came to a halt as his eyes landed on someone descending from the staircase.

Was that....you?

Indeed it was, as he blinked his eyes a few times to get into his mind the fact that you, his bride to be, were walking down from the staircase, looking like someone he's always loved for centuries. That, he did, but of course he wouldn't tell you that. Your snarky remarks from time to time, the way you smiled at his retorts and the way you remained a complete mystery to him, no matter how much he found out about you. Love, love, love, was what Jay had told him.

"My lord." You dipped into a curtsey in front of Heeseung. God he smelled exactly like the willow, enchanting and sweetly poisoning. You tried your hardest to avert your eyes from the tightly hugging fabric around his arms and his belt too. You fervently wanted your hands to be tied to it.

"You look pretty, princess." Heeseung winked at you, wrapping an arm at your waist, but not before giving you a look of access, "May we?" He motioned towards the dance floor, where a few women and men had their arms wrapped around each other lovingly. Would Heeseung and you ever be like this, you thought, as he led you over to the marble floor. You would have liked that, you'd have liked that a lot.

You could feel the eyes on you as Heeseung took your hands to his lips and pressed a small peck there. "Ignore them." He smiled up at you, "Time to show off your dancing, princess."

Gulping down the breath you've had in for a long time, you gasped in silence as one of Heeseung's arms pressed against your waist in a position for your waltz. You took your breath in accordance with Heeseung as the violins whipped their bows and the grandiose music began.

Dance was often described as the art of the soul, you'd never seen a living example of it, until now, as your entire body and mind moved in synchronisation with Heeseung. It felt as if dancing on a cloud you've longed to be on, when you were swaying with him. His grip on yours, his eyes tracing yours, and his demeanor being the one of the swan you had spied on in the western wing, it enchanted you, pulled you in to the whirlpool of Heeseung himself. You could have stayed like this forever, swaying in a gown with Heeseung at your start.

Heeseung was intoxicated as well, it was sweet venom lacing his veins, as the clandestine rendezvous of your movements got him to the highest of highs, one that even the most addicted couldn't have reached.

"Enjoying the view?" You cocked a brow at him, noticing the way he was staring at you. You were thankful that a lot of other people had joined the dance and you weren't the only ones dancing now.

"Funny, I was about to ask the same thing." He smirked at you, his eyes tilting down to your cleavage.

"You've seen more than just my cleavage and it's still driving you crazy isn't it?" You raised your chin, "Pathetic, Heeseung."

"Pathetic is it princess?" Heeseung's voice dropped to a low, as he leant over to your ear, his breath hitting your cold skin, whispering words that made your breath drop.

"More pathetic than the western wing?"

To be continued.....

Taglist: @amazzwon @heeseungshim @yunabi436 @kvmariii @sacrificeatmeup send an ask to be tagged

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ne-videl · 5 months ago

Text

𝓶𝓲𝓭𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓻 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽'𝓼 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶

♡

yandere Rezef Hill x immortal fem reader

quirks of eternal life and the obsessed prince.

yandere, sfw, mentions of violence, kidnapping & imprisonment, angst??, you are immortal and reaaly bored, poor english, possibly wild image of high society bc real history suck

word count: ~3.5k

a/n: hii!!

exams be killing me

glad its over until the next year but I still have a shit ton of books to read at summer bc I'm in literature class (Tolstoy I hope ur spinning in your grave I don't want to read 3rd and 4th tome of war and peace but I have to)

anyway for this fic I re-read first chapters and?? Rezef is such a dick in the beginning?? and I forgot abt it??

also when I think about someone immortal this type of person just comes to mind (I mean ofc u don't give a damn about some angry man, you literally have been through everything) and don't worry about Cayena she's chilling in a nice place

indeed, lady [name], you are shining brighter than usual today. you've only recently returned to the capital, haven't you?" – at that warm evening, a pretty young girl was chirping in your ear, sitting with you on a luxurious sofa in the ballroom.

you listened with half an ear to a mixture of flattery and sincere admiration, looking into nowhere from under your eyelashes.

the ball was playing its climax, and the guests were harmoniously spinning in a german waltz. others, more noble and older, entertained themselves with idle conversations.

you too, thanks to your position, were little constrained by the limits of secular norms, and did not bother dancing. tonight you wanted anything other than to gallop around the stuffy hall. your eyes, devoid of the childish brilliance peculiar to your peers, looked indifferently at the guests.

the ball in honor of the beginning of summer was a great event, even the royal family usually participated in it; such celebrations instilled in their noble participants a sense of reverence for the higher-ranking present and idle anticipation of the upcoming entertainment.

but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't see anything more from the height of your velvet sofa than pretentiously dressed men and women; strangely moving, stiffly dancing and talking vague figures under the sickening light of numerous chandeliers. all this in the stuffy luxury of the hall seemed to you so fake, pretentious and unnatural that you could barely restrain yourself from haughty laughter, or from a bored sigh.

[name], beautiful [name]! daughter of the richest man in the empire, a brilliant socialite, trendsetter and muse of famous poets.

you vaguely remembered what was inside some rubbish that you read about a hundred years ago, you don't know when and you don't know where.

and although in your case, "a hundred years" might not be just a phrase, you couldn't care less. whether this the fifth life or the hundredth – what's the difference? right, there's none – you thought lazily, openly staring at the crown prince exchanging pleasantries with representatives of the capital's bohemians.

like you, who on the last night of spring were dressed up like a Christmas tree, his highness shone with the white brocade of his suit today. eyes with the color of ceylon sapphire peeked out from under his golden bangs, giving everyone present the condescending look of the royalty. little prince – as you laughingly called him to yourself – was handsome to the point that young girls blushed deeply as soon as they saw him, and married ladies sighed dreamily.

at the sight of the handsome prince, some memory cracked in your skull, however, it died as quickly as it appeared. this and a thousand other memories were simply not worth your attention, and, of course, you never scolded yourself for the forgetfulness inherent in your age. you were above it all.

Rezef easily distinguished among the crowd a lady dressed in thick silk with bare shoulders. on your neck, which he did not hesitate to stare at, there was a pair of pearl necklace with a large emerald. when you met his gaze, you smiled falsely and slightly bowed your head.

middle-aged count, whose name he could not remember, looked at the woman in the corner of the hall, and scratched his gray beard with a smile.

"gorgeous, isn't she?" – an old dog next to him grinned vulgarly – "the beauty of the empire, they say."

"what a wonder." – Rezef did not take his strangely enchanted gaze off you, and the words escaped from his lips with a gasp – "it's not a pity to fall in love with such a creature." – he said maliciously, as if he concluded for himself.

the crown prince walked towards you, ignoring the knowing look of the nameless old man beside him.

he walked confidently, with a deceptively friendly smile, and would have been incredibly ridiculous to you if he hadn't been so handsome.

"good night to you, lady [name]." – Rezef smiled warmly, and held out his hand in a snow-white glove to you, – "may I keep you company?"

he kissed your palm, and without waiting for consent, sat down next to you.

you talked about various nonsense; Rezef did not take his shining eyes off you and listened, and you chatted in a dry tone about the opera, exhibitions and the weather in the capital, hardly forcing yourself to remember the topics that the ladies had already retold a hundred times.

but the guests were invited to the cotillion, and you left the little prince as easily as you accepted him into your shining company.

with the last round of the dance, everything that was happening completely mixed up in your head into a bright, stuffy mess, accompanied by the imperial orchestra and the clatter of shoes on the lacquered parquet.

and in the end, caught by the prince's arm, you were only a little confused, but you didn't show it.

"why won't you stay the night at the palace?" – Rezef said, whose broad chest rose and fell rapidly after dancing, just like your own.

you raised your eyebrows, looking at him from under your eyelashes, and fell into thought, accompanied by the prince to one of the front balconies.

normally, you wouldn't mind spending the night with such a handsome man, but today you didn't want carnal pleasures at all. and of course, you could afford to just turn down the prince like that; just because you're not in the mood, just because you don't want to.

"thank you for the offer, your highness, however, I will refrain." – you said.

for a second, when his eye twitched, you saw something unpleasantly bitter in Rezef's soft features, a mixture of disappointment with something else. but you didn't care to the depths of your callous heart; today you're not in the mood, today you're not having any fun at all.

and what was the point of that endless journey that you called life if you weren't having fun?

Rezef fell silent, maintaining his sugary smile and standing next to you, and you leaned on the marble railing, looking up at the sky.

the pale disk of the moon is floating high on the horizon. there was music coming from the ballroom, the rustle of dresses and the clatter of shoes, irritating your ears; the little prince had been gathering his thoughts for a couple of minutes to speak; and you rested your chin on your silk-gloved hand.

"tell me, lady [name]." – your bored gaze returned to the Crown Prince, – "this night, the moon and the stars, and me, doesn't that remind you of anything?"

you raised your eyebrow. even if you tried, you wouldn't be able to remember; over the years, memories inevitably dimmed and got lost.

Rezef looked at you expectantly, with almost childish anticipation. a sick gleam flashed in his eyes.

the longer your silence dragged on, the more you disliked his face, his eyes; the childish interest in his handsome features contrasted unpleasantly with the look of a madman. as if you won't say what he wants to hear now, the earth itself will crack and split in half.

"I'm afraid not, your highness. nothing at all." – you said, lightly shaking your shoulders.

the little prince didn't say anything else. his lips trembled, and he stared into the distance, clearly terribly disappointed.

the last night of spring burned out in your cold eyes, and you sighed indifferently.

♡

Rezef remembered his childhood well. in a world where everyone hated him, for some reason, there were no pretty princesses or kind older sisters. nobody. at all.

there was only a lady dressed in silk and the moon.

you came to him in dreams; whether out of boredom or out of simple human pity, he didn't know. you came because you could and wanted to; because you said you loved doing what you wanted.

it was just the two of you in this dream world. you told him all the life you could remember; and you had a long one, longer than the biggest cat's tail.

the boy lay on your lap and listened, and sometimes cried.

in this world its eat or be eaten, but you definitely won't eat him.

"they all say that I have no place in this world. that I'd better disappear." – little prince was clutching the silk of your dress tightly in his hands and squinting. – "I hate them."

"all of them?" – you answered with a relaxed, lazy smile, running your hand through the boy's golden hair.

"you and I have a lot in common. that's the way life is, child. when you grow up, you definitely start hating someone." – you were grinning. – "and you cry and feel sad a lot."

"when I become emperor, I will definitely make you the happiest in the whole world! so that you will never cry again." – the boy squeezed your hands tightly in his palms and smiled radiantly. he hesitated slightly, and looked at you from under his golden eyelashes. "but you didn't tell me your name."

"[name]." – you breathed out laughingly.

"aren't you a fairy by any chance?" – little prince tilted his head to the side, looking at you with a radiant gaze of his blue eyes.

"perhaps." – you giggled.

prince laughed loudly. a fake moon was hanging over you two, and fake stars were shining; everything in the dream world is fake – you told him.

but he liked these strange dreams. and wanted them to become real; to have a real moon, real stars, and only him and you.

♡

every time already grown-up Rezef met the woman from his dreams, he felt his heart beating faster.

human heart, such a fragile and pathetic little thing. how many of these hearts have you got your hands on?

he would gladly have torn out each one with his own hands.

the love for you, which has passed through the years, was like bitter liquor sliding down his throat. after it, the stomach turns out, but it intoxicates so much that he can't hold himself from taking another sip.

there is no light in him to give you. all he has is the suffocating darkness of his mind, cultivated by the mores of the palace, the thirst for power and cruelty. but just as no one else besides yourself mattered to you, Rezef didn't give a damn about the nature of his feelings.

poor, pathetic little prince. no one told him that this is not the way he should love someone. like a child who has not been taught to walk, and now it's crawling.

he's still holding back, but if necessary, Rezef will gladly drag you with him into the depths of hell.

but it hurts so much. every time he sees you laughing with someone else, smiling at someone else, he wants to cry.

it should be me! – his heart screams – it should be me! – his wounded soul cries while the prince stands over the corpse of one of your suitors, whom Rezef himself turned into a bloody mess. you should have held his hand. should have been smiling at him.

when someone's neck crunched under his hands again, he thought about you. would you praise him if Rezef brought you this man's head? for your smile, he would give his own heart, still fresh, in warm blood, right out of the gaping hole in his chest.

if you knew, you'd laugh.

because you are eternal, and he is just a human being. Inevitably, there will come a day when you will live, but Rezef will not. one day he will die, will end, and you will laugh coldly and continue your endless journey.

no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries, you will always have an escape route. you can leave him.

unfair.

Rezef was even a little mad at you for that. he loved you so much; if you had only fluttered your eyelashes once and smiled – even falsely – he would have laid the whole world at your feet!

but you're breaking him. you don't care. you're only interested as long as you're having fun.

oh, how he despised that feeling, and despised you. how much he wanted to kill all the butterflies in his stomach, tear out every shiny wing; wanted to never see your mocking smile and indifferent eyes again, one fleeting glance of which easily made Rezef forget about al struggles for the throne.

he loved you as he had never loved anyone before; and hated because he didn't want to love, because he knew that you won't ever reciprocate.

♡

he and you could't be called friends, however, in the capital's high society, almost all of its representatives were friends and enemies at the same time. in any case, it was not shameful for the crown prince to visit the daughter of the richest man in the empire for dinner.

tall pine trees lined up in orderly rows along the hectares of the estate's garden, shining with luxury no worse than the imperial palace. they bowed their gloomy heads and silently greeted the carriage that evening under the hot july sun that had not yet set.

after dinner was served and eaten, you ordered one of your maids to serve tea in the garden.

"undoubtedly, what happened to the count's daughter is a disgrace to the whole family, however, I cannot help but sympathize with her." – you talked a lot again and at the same time didn't actually say anything.

the only good thing about such conversations about nothing was the opportunity to listen to your measured, eternally bored voice, and just look at you like at a painting in a museum.

the upper world was completely fake and unnatural, and you gladly accepted this fake as a living embodiment of it. and Rezef was willing to play along, because he was the prince, because it was necessary to. and so your conversation drifted from topic to topic, from one rumor to another. the warm wind made him close his sapphire eyes.

"I've seen you in my dreams, marchioness. when I was little." – the crown prince lazily tilted his head to the side, – "I know you, yet you don't remember me. isn't that unfair?" – he said with mock, with sarcastic sadness.

"is it?" – you took a sip of flower tea from a porcelain cup – "well, life is full of injustices, your highness."

a small cabbage butterfly landed right on your finger, moving its thin paws under the cold gaze of your eyes.

"lady, do you like butterflies?" – the prince smiled warmly – "there are a lot of them in your garden."

"only poisonous ones, perhaps." – you replied, and with a smile reflecting his own, squeezed the butterfly in your hand. – "they bring death, yet die themselves if I squeeze my hand just like that. how curious."

"and what about you?" – Rezef, as if enchanted, watched the transparent wings fall on the countertop – "can't you die?"

"I can't be killed in a way that matters." – you answered with a grin, as if you were repeating these words for the thousandth time.

prince pursed his lips in a forced smile. in the end, nothing has changed; he is still just a man at the walls of the eternal city. you won't listen, won't understand, and won't love.

because eternity is beautiful by itself, eternity does not need anyone else.

Rezef likes to think he's doing the right thing.

It's your fault. you could not smile at him so beautifully, not illuminate his darkness with your cold light, not make him feel this.

he didn't want to expose the ugliness of his soul, didn't want to go that far. it's all because of you. you don't even know what an insane cocktail of love and hatred you're making him feel.

and you also don't know that your tea is poisoned.

♡

"do you like your new quarters?" – Rezef almost purred, – "I was trying to guess your preferences, but if something doesn't suit you, be sure to tell me."

huh?

"you won't feel a need for anything," – little prince smiled radiantly, – "prepare to enjoy family life. just have fun and obey me, and I will make you the happiest in the whole world."

what?

Rezef was sitting, busily folding his beautiful hands, and enjoying for the first time the confused, trembling look in your eyes.

a giant bedroom, a four-poster bed, silk sheets on which you were sitting, a translucent nightgown that barely hides anything, and a scarlet ribbon around your neck.

while you were looking around uncomprehendingly, the prince sat down on the bed next to you and smiled sickly.

you saw that abomination again in the bright blue; the look of a pure madman, love which became an illness, mixed with almost animal hatred. a ribbon around your neck.

did he just put you on a leash, like you were some lap dog? that pup, who cried on your lap? you, a being older than his entire palace? you, for whom biting off someone's head is like having breakfast?

you haven't been humiliated like this in the last half-millennium.

"child." – you said slowly and quietly, and in your dry voice there was no trace of the cheeky, fake politeness peculiar to this aristocratic disguise of yours – "I'll pull your guts out through your mouth." – your lips trembled in sheer rage.

Rezef stroked your head and sighed.

"you came into my life so easily. it didn't mean anything to you, did it?" – the corner of his eye twitched, and he laughed bitterly, – "don't think I'll let you go now. never."

hit landed right on the bridge of his nose. you turned out to be much stronger than he expected, and your face was distorted with rage like he had never seen before. Rezef felt his nose bleed.

was the devil himself looking at him through your eyes now? – he thought with a strange calmness.

you hit a couple more times, and, shaking the blood off your knuckles, tore the ribbon from your neck.

how dare he? all of them are just actors in your endless play. if you're not having fun, then none of this makes sense. if you're not having fun, then what are you living for?

you were breathing fast, and were silent. it was as if for eternity you two just looked at each other; you – with fury, he – with calmness, even affably. you were sick of that expression.

but that rage of yours quickly subsided. it wasn't that you forgave him, it was just that after a couple of days you got bored with being violent.

and a year later, you stopped paying attention to the seemingly completely insane circumstances of your new life at all. you didn't mind his sole yet imaginary control over you, just because he didn't mean that much to you.

even now, nothing has changed at all.

and with the tendons cut at your ankles, looking at him with the same bored eyes, you were still disgustingly beautiful to him in the moonlight on the last night of spring.

"tomorrow I will become emperor." – instead of greeting you, Rezef said, entering the room. his face did not express joy, rather, bewilderment, as if he himself for some reason was not completely happy with it.

"yeah." – you said, without looking up from the book, – "congratulations."

now it was difficult for you to move around by yourself, so Rezef usually carried you in his arms.

he sat down on the bed and put his head on your lap and frowned.

"tell me, [name]," – he looked up at you, and when he met your impassive face, he forced a smile, – "why do I feel like I'll never see you again?"

"because you won't. I'm bored." – you shrugged and continued, – "you know, I could hate you." – you spoke calmly and dryly – "but you're not worth it. because in the end, I go on living; I always go on, and you, child, will fall into the very depths of hell."

you stroked his golden hair and smiled calmly. Rezef hid his face on your hips.

"I don't regret anything," – little prince suddenly said softly and laughed.

the last night of spring burned out in your eyes as you disappeared.

brotha euugh

one day I'll go to therapy and stop being funny but not today

I finished playing slow damage and it's the best novel in my life (that shit destroyed me)

also good ends are for weak

I mean I write for yanderes ofc there's not gonna be anything good

it's either normal or "we're fucked" here

also I'm physically intolerable to good endings and will cry if I'd ever had to write one (I love sufferings)

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere #yandere rezef hill #yandere manhwa x reader #rezef hill #yandere imagines #misha.writes

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