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zarameraki · 10 months ago

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♡₊˚🥀₊✧ 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝘂𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗲 ♡₊˚🥀₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 king x concubine 𖥔 lots of plot with porn 𖥔 mentions of abuse 𖥔 mentions of sexual assault 𖥔 normal form sukuna (sorry yall but next time ill do his big boy one) 𖥔 he only has eyes for you 𖥔 you're his darling 𖥔 he would kill for you 𖥔 breeding (!!!!) 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 8.8k

: ̗̀➛ notes: this took a whole WEEK to edit. im so obsessed with this story. it's my favourite thing ive written because i love period movies and dramas and really got to challenge my writing skills to give it more a fantasy-esque element. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

The diligent hands of Lord Sukuna Ryomen’s palace attendants scrubbed away the grime that clung to every inch of your weary form. There were no traces of tears in your eyes, despite the discomfort of the cleansing process.

Perhaps it was the residue of gratitude for an escape from a foster family who saw fit to barter you away for a pittance to fuel their vices.

The water surrounding you had transformed into a murky haze, carrying away the evidence of your former life's hardships.

Yet, amidst this cleansing ritual, you couldn’t shake the puzzling thought of why the guards had singled you out from the other young women within the household. Uraume, the overseer of palace affairs, had arrived alongside them, their presence looming over the proceedings with an air of mystery.

That morning, you were subjected to abuse in front of everyone at the central market, longing for someone to stand up for you. And someone did. They offered you an escape from that hellhole and into a world of luxury.

You weren’t going to complain now that you had accepted this new fate of yours.

“Ya’ got too many scars, girl,” remarked one of the elderly attendants, gently assisting you out of the steaming bath, her hands wrapping a towel around your shivering form. “Our powders will struggle to conceal ’em all. How did ya’ come by such marks?”

“From my foster family,” you murmured, gaze fixed upon your toes as if they held the weight of your past. The plush carpet beneath your feet offered a small comfort, a luxury unfamiliar to your upbringing.

Memories of their harsh discipline flooded back—the blistering gravel underfoot as punishment for daring to voice dissent. It was a brutal introduction to a world where obedience was paramount.

“A wretched lot,” the attendant muttered sympathetically.

Enveloped in a silk robe, she led you into a chamber shared by a cohort of women, a realm far removed from the confines of your previous abode. Here, space was ample—the expanse excessive, with beds lining the walls and a high ceiling adorned with a single chandelier.

As you entered, a symphony of pretty faces and inquisitive gazes greeted you. Women of all colours and shapes reclined luxuriously in plain robes, their hair intricately braided or cascading freely down their backs. Conversations paused, curiosity piqued by your arrival, as all eyes turned to welcome you into their midst.

Beneath the weight of their scrutinising stares, you found yourself shrinking. These women, draped in silk and adorned with jewels, were the king's favoured concubines, a fact repeatedly emphasised during your journey to the palace and even in the fragrant confines of the bathhouse.

Every instinct urged you to rebel, to refuse to be just another ornament in the king’s harem, but you understood the value placed on purity by the monarch.

Unfortunately, your innocence had been cruelly stolen from you by your foster father, leaving you tarnished in body and spirit. Lord Sukuna would have no use for a damaged flower in his garden of perfection.

In truth, you couldn’t even imagine an image of his face in your mind. His Lordship remained a mystery to those beyond the palace walls.

“Here ya’ are.” The attendant guided you to your bed. “That vanity there’s yours to use.” She gestured toward the communal area by the window, where two other young women were preparing themselves. “Once your hair dries, one of my girls will assist ya’ in preparin’ for your audience with His Lordship.” Her touch was gentle as she caressed your cheek. “Rest assured, dear, ya’ safe now.”

You attempted a smile, though the effort seemed Herculean amidst your weariness.

As the attendant departed, her scolding to the rowdy girls fading into the background, you nestled into the comforting embrace of your soft bedding, ignoring the hushed criticisms trailing in your wake.

She’s feeble.

Her hair lacks refinement.

The king would never entertain a lowly pauper.

She’ll be gone by tomorrow.

Their words, like venomous serpents, slithered through the air.

Amidst their degradation, you succumbed to exhaustion.

But your slumber was interrupted by the bustling commotion of handmaidens assembling around you.

Disoriented and scarcely given a moment to collect your thoughts, you found yourself swiftly escorted to the vanity, where the clamour of girls jostling for space filled the air.

They manipulated your locks, weaving intricate patterns into your hair, fashioning a crown braid atop your head while allowing the remaining tresses to cascade freely down your back.

Meanwhile, other attendants removed your robe, their hands moving with practised efficiency as they anointed your skin with fragrant oils, infusing it with the delicate essence of lavender.

Between the flurry of activity, the whispers of your fellow concubines hung in the air like a veil of awe and trepidation. Their eyes were drawn to the scars marring your skin, as they speculated about how the king would perceive your imperfections as repulsive.

Good.

You craved precisely that outcome.

If the king recoiled at your sight, it meant he wouldn’t desire you to bear his heir. If the tales circulating in the town about his monstrous nature held any truth, then he’d likely offer you death as a reprieve—and you’d welcome it with open arms.

Before facing the king, you stole a glance at your reflection, the final moments of solitude before your fate was decided. The powder concealed the imperfections of your skin, rendering it smooth and flawless. Your cheeks and lips bore a muted hue reminiscent of crushed cherries. Delicate white blossoms adorned your hair, woven into your braids by nimble fingers.

As you stood, the other women adorned you in a robe of silky fabric, its floral pattern draping over your form, cinched at the waist to accentuate your curves. Barefoot, you followed them out, the chill of the floor beneath your feet a stark contrast to the warmth of anticipation and trepidation swirling within you.

“Good luck, pauper,” taunted one of the concubines, her voice dripping with disdain, echoed by a cacophony of mocking laughter.

Palms clammy with nerves, you shifted your gaze to the opulence of the palace corridors. Adorned with countless chandeliers and swathes of velvet drapery, they offered a stark contrast to the blooming back garden. Memories of tending to the earth and nurturing life back at your foster family’s home flooded your mind.

“Quickly now,” one of the maids urged, her voice tinged with urgency. “His Lordship detests tardiness.”

“I apologise.” You hastened your steps to keep pace with the group of attendants.

She halted before a grand set of double doors, guarded by imposing sentinels clad in formidable armour. With a flick of her wrist, the guards swung the doors open. She gently nudged you forward, and only as you crossed the threshold did the doors seal shut behind you.

You blinked, adjusting to the dimness within, scanning the chamber until your gaze alighted upon a pair of crimson glimmers opposite you. “My Lord?” You inclined your head and took hesitant steps toward the source of those fiery eyes.

“Come closer,” his command echoed through the chamber, sending a shiver down your spine. The low resonance of His Highness Sukuna Ryomen’s voice was unexpectedly rich and velvety. You had envisioned a voice tinged with age, but instead, it possessed a rough texture that awoken something within you.

With hesitant steps, you approached until you stood at the edge of his bed, your fingertips grazing the diaphanous curtains that enveloped him in a cocoon of privacy.

“Closer,” he urged, coaxing you to unveil the enigma lying beyond the veil.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you obeyed, parting the curtains and gracefully crawled onto the mattress. The silkiness of the sheets were a blatant contrast to the roughness of your foster house’s. A pang of guilt tugged at your conscience as you realized the irony of finding solace in this luxurious confinement of being his concubine.

“Enough.” His abrupt order halted your thoughts, drawing your attention back to the present moment.

As commanded, you obediently settled into your posture, folding your legs beneath you in the dimness. Within his shadowed realm, only the luminous crimson irises pierced through the gloom, studying you with an intensity that made your belly churn. Despite the curiosity burning within you, you restrained the impulse to voice your questions. Instead, you settled in the tranquillity that crowded the space between you.

“What is your name?” His inquiry cut through the hushed air.

“Y/N, my Lord.”

As your name slipped from your lips, he captured it delicately, repeating it like a sacred prayer. Each syllable danced on his tongue, imprinting itself upon the very essence of his being. In that moment, you observed a subtle shift—the shadows that had cloaked the chamber seemed to dissipate.

A soft, golden luminescence filtered through the parted curtains, cascading across half of Sukuna’s face.

You blinked in astonishment.

He appeared . . . young?

The age difference between you and him was not a chasm of decades, but rather a modest gap of no less than five years.

Physically, at least.

His appearance was striking, with locks of hair dyed a subdued pink hue, contrasting with a streak of darker shade beneath. His hair was styled into rugged spikes, lending an air of defiance. Intricate black markings adorned his features, tracing a path from his cheekbones down to his chin, while similar patterns wove across his strong shoulder, cascading over his defined pectoral muscles and sculpted abdomen.

As your eyes fell upon him, your heart quickened its pace, each beat a vicious drumming against your ribs. Gone was the expectation of a lord showing the signs of wisdom, with wrinkles upon his brow and a body marked by the passage of time. Instead, before you sat a vision of breathtaking beauty, defying your preconceived notions and leaving you breathless in awe.

With a graceful gesture, he swept aside the curtains, allowing them to unveil his entirety.

The same markings mirrored the other side of his face and cascaded down the length of his body, a mesmerising display of symmetry. Dark bands encircled his wrists, and his nails bore the same deep hue.

Poised against the headboard, he reclined with an air of effortless elegance, one knee raised as his elbow found a comfortable perch, while the other leg extended out. Though he was unclothed, a veil of silk sheets cloaked the lower half of his form.

“Remarkable,” you unknowingly whispered. Your hand clapped over your mouth. “I apologise, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s lips curved into a sinister grin, his flawless teeth gleaming in the golden light. While many would flee at the sight, you remained rooted in place, unable to tear your gaze away. A delicate flush spread across your cheeks, betraying the undeniable attraction simmering between your legs. He was absolutely divine, and the path of being his concubine suddenly didn’t seem so terrible.

Yet, the reality of sharing Sukuna with ten other women loomed over your thoughts like a shadow. The thought of him spreading his affections among so many others kindled a small flame of jealousy within you, mingled with confusion. Why hadn’t he impregnated at least one of them with the promise of an heir?

“Have you not been schooled in the art of lowering your gaze in the presence of nobility, Y/N?”

Your lashes fluttered as you registered your lapse in decorum, hastily averting your gaze. “Forgive me, my Lord, if my oversight has caused offence.” Surely, he wouldn’t punish you for a momentary lapse of admiration.

Would he?

A gentle touch beneath your chin guided your face upward. His fingers spread across your cheek, the warmth nearly forcing you to curve into his touch. Despite the temptation, your eyes remained obediently downward.

“Look at me.”

Your gaze lingered on him, tracing the delicate patterns etched over his cheek, the fiery hue of his irises, the elegant contour of his nose, and the soft curvature of his lips. Never before had you felt such a rousing desire towards any man. Yet fate had chosen to ensnare your heart with the one most forbidden to you.

“You bear a sadness that weighs heavily in your eyes,” he noted softly, his hand descending to the curve of your neck, his thumb caressing the frantic rhythm of your pulse. A low, melodic sound produced from his throat. “Tell me, my love, does the face before you stir fear within your heart?”

“It does not, my Lord. The fear of your appearance holds no dominion over me,” you declared with quiet resolve. “You’re quite . . . beautiful.”

Sukuna’s gaze sparked with a mixture of surprise and intrigue at your response.

Suppressing a nervous gulp, you silently reprimanded yourself for speaking so boldly to one of noble rank. Back in the confines of your former life, such defiance would have earned you swift punishment, yet here, in the presence of royalty, it could lead to your demise.

As you prepared to avert your gaze, ready to accept whatever consequences may come, Sukuna’s voice cut through the tense air before you could retreat.

“Don’t.”

In that moment, you found yourself questioning your instincts.

Why did you not cower in fear? Why did your body not tremble in the presence of a man who had slaughtered the lives of his enemies without hesitation? And most perplexing of all, how could you maintain unwavering eye contact with a figure of such formidable power?

“Remove your robe.” His grip remained firm around your throat, his thumb delicately tracing your pulse. “And do not stray your gaze elsewhere.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Your fingers loosened the fabric’s bindings, allowing it to cascade down your frame, and revealing the soft curvature of your form beneath. As it pooled around your lap, your breasts stood exposed to his scrutiny.

A shiver danced across your skin as his eyes traced the contours of your body, a faint smirk teasing his lips.

He brushed back strands of your hair, his touch trailing down your vertebrate. His eyes narrowed into thin slits, brows knitted together in contemplation, fingers repeatedly tracing the ridges of your scars.

“Turn around.”

The dreaded discovery that sent ripples of revulsion through the concubines had finally come to pass. Your scars lay exposed before the gaze of a powerful lord. Not only would he slit your throat, but also those of the maids who had tended to your needs, and perhaps even Uruame, who had brokered your purchase from the bastards responsible for your imperfections.

“Never before have I been compelled to repeat myself for a concubine.” His voice carried a lethal edge as he increased his grip around your throat. “Turn the fuck around.”

Your compliance came in slow, measured movements as you turned away, presenting your back to him in a gesture of submission. His hands gathered the strands of your hair, lifting them aside to reveal the raw truth etched into your skin. His fingers traced the jagged remnants of whip lashes, the seared imprints of cigars, and the cruel reminders of knife wounds inflicted by a foster father turned tormentor.

Silent tears traced a path down your cheeks, as you sat in a state of numbness, your gaze fixed upon the closed door of Sukuna’s chamber.

A tender sensation, soft and moist, grazed your back, prompting a reflexive twitch in your left shoulder.

Turning slightly, you beheld Sukuna pressing his lips against the scar that marred your shoulder blades.

“My Lord—”

“I did not ask you to speak,” he murmured over your skin, sending a tremor through your frame. “Rise onto your knees.”

Obeying his command, you ascended onto your knees, feeling the weight of his hands settle upon your waist. His lips trailed a path of reverence, bestowing kisses upon each mark that scarred your skin, from your marrow to your nape.

Your breath caught in a delicate dance of exhales, a whispered symphony escaping your parted lips. The wet caress of his tongue sent ripples of sensation coursing through your being.

His arm circled your waist, drawing you into the sanctuary of his embrace. A fleeting kiss graced the nape of your neck, followed by the suction of his lips upon the tender side of your neck. His soft hands possessively held the curve of your breasts, cradling their weight.

Your head reclined against his strong shoulder.

With his gaze fixed upon you, his lips glistened with a hint of moisture, while his crimson eyes locked onto your own human-like ones. You dared not divert your gaze as he previously ordered. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, sending lightning strikes through your frame.

Unlike the non-consensual encounter of the past, there was no hint of agony; only a tantalising blend of pleasure that left you breathless, without a protest or helpless whimper. Instead, a sigh of pure rapture escaped your lips, encompassing your body in an embrace.

Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as if he had stumbled upon a long-sought treasure.

His fingertips skated down your torso, gliding toward your centre. You captured your bottom lip between your teeth. Holding his gaze became a daunting challenge as he skillfully teased your sensitive nub, causing your breath to quicken and your chest to rise and fall with each exhilarating sensation.

Sukuna slid his middle finger into you. “You’re incredibly drawn, Sad Eyes,” he murmured, the endearment he had bestowed upon you almost provoking a smile. His lips grazed your ear as he continued. “Perhaps I should stretch you out”—he pushed in his ring finger, forcing a sharp gasp to tear from your throat and an involuntary arch of your body against his chest—“so that your cunt is able to welcome my cock.”

You stifled the knot rising in your throat as Sukuna plunged his fingers into you. Such profound bliss seemed inconceivable with mere digits alone.

“My Lord.” Your breath caught as he increased his tempo. “My—” Each thrust intensified the knot in your stomach, threatening to unravel you entirely. You teetered on the brink, dangerously close to staining his fingers with your release. A sharp gasp choked out of you as he struck a wondrous chord deep within. “Please, my Lord. I beg of you— I will soil your hand if you persist—” But your plea dissolved into a cry of ecstasy before you could utter another word.

Sukuna’s laughter danced teasingly in the hollow of your ear, leaving you utterly spellbound.

You were overheated, overstimulated, overridden by the explosive undoing from his fingers. Breathless and consumed by lust, your world spun as he seized your jaw and crushed his lips to yours.

In that electrifying moment, his tongue invaded your mouth, initially startling you, yet you surrendered to the rhythm.

Sukuna leaned back slightly after planting a tender peck on your lips. Exhaling softly, he threaded his fingers through your hair, his touch sending shivers down your spine. As his lips met yours once more, gentler this time, your hand ventured to trace the contours of his adorned chest.

“You are quite the vixen.” A playful glint danced in his eyes. “How valiant of you to seduce a lord into bestowing kisses upon his concubine.” A broad smile graced his lips, leaving you uncertain whether his words were playful jest or genuine admiration.

“Do you not bestow your kisses upon all your concubines, my Lord?”

“I do not pleasure their cunts, either.”

His speech carried the brashness of a tempest, a departure from the expected decorum one associated with royalty. Sukuna Ryomen defied conventions. It was a trait uncommon among lords, yet one that intrigued you deeply. His demeanour, both in battle and in the intimate confines of the bedchamber, lacked the softening. But you found yourself drawn to his unfiltered honesty, appreciating the absence of cryptic notions.

As you sat before him, considering your next words carefully, a surge of courage emboldened you to reveal your truth.

“My Lord,” you began, your voice quivering with uncertainty, “I . . . I am not pure.”

“Given the sounds you were drawing out,” he quipped with a chuckle, “I wouldn’t have surmised otherwise.” He assisted you in rising from where you rested against his chest, positioning you before him. Observing your solemn expression, he arched an eyebrow in curiosity. “Was your satisfaction not fulfilled?”

“Indeed, my Lord, it surpassed any expectation,” you confessed, worrying your lip as he sighed impatiently. “But I must disclose . . . I am not chaste.”

Sukuna’s response was subdued, save for the faint twitch in his jaw. He averted his gaze from yours momentarily, reaching for the decanter on his bedside table and pouring himself a measure of spirits.

“Speak,” he instructed, his tone clipped.

“It occurred before I reached maturity,” you murmured softly, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself. “My foster father—” Your words faltered as Sukuna raised a hand, a silent acknowledgment of his comprehension of your unspoken anguish.

“I need not hear more.” He swiftly consumed the crimson liquid in a single gulp. “You are dismissed for the night.”

“But my Lord’s desires remain unmet—”

“Leave,” he commanded, his tone final and unwavering.

With a gulp, you hastily gathered your robe around your form, delicately extricating yourself from his expansive bed.

Just as you thought to retreat, a firm hand seized your wrist, drawing you back into Sukuna’s embrace. His lips melded with yours in an intoxicating kiss, causing both your gazes to flutter open when he pulled away. A faint smirk played upon his lips as he adjusted the robe over your shoulder.

“Next time,” he murmured, plucking a flower from the adornments in your hair and placing it upon his bedside, “you shall grace my chambers without such distracting embellishments upon yourself.”

“As you wish, my Lord,” you replied with a respectful bow of your head, awaiting his dismissal until he gestured for you to depart with a casual wave of his hand.

In the shared chambers, your fellow concubines swirled around your bed, eager to hear of your inaugural encounter with Lord Sukuna.

Each girl shared their own vivid tales, painting scenes of ecstasy under the cloak of darkness, where the king’s touch invoked sensations akin to celestial bodies colliding, or where unfamiliar pleasures erased the boundaries of their throat—whatever that latter entailed.

Though a twinge of jealousy flickered within you, it was swiftly overshadowed by a swell of pride. The concubines pleasured Sukuna in darkness, the same darkness you had willingly entered, before his touch had set ablaze a world of gold for you.

They were merely beautiful means of physical gratification for their lord, devoid of the intimacy you shared—his fingers delving deep into your core. And never had any of them spoken of kisses exchanged. Sukuna had spoken true when you questioned if others received similar treatment.

But why you?

Why, after a mere span of ten hours within the palace walls, did you find yourself, dare you entertain the notion, as his favoured? What magic did you possess that drew him to you, and how had you managed to seduce his lips, his fingers, to meet yours in such an intimate embrace?

“Did he spend himself inside you?” one of the girls whispered, prodding your knee to rouse you from your silence.

“No.”

“Aye, he never does,” remarked a golden-haired girl with a resigned sigh. “He sees to it that we consume some berries afterward, claiming they prevent conception. Strange, isn’t it? Especially if he’s so eager for an heir.”

Another girl hushed her, leaning in with a conspiratorial tone. “Did he take you from behind? That’s his favoured position, you know. He’s had us all that way.”

You stumbled over your words, unsure how to respond.

“And did you savour his taste?” came the next question. “It’s quite rich in sodium—”

“Girls!” A booming voice echoed from the doorway of the bedroom, startling you and the other concubines into immediate attention. You caught sight of the elderly attendant who oversaw your care, hands planted firmly on her hips as she observed the chaotic scene before her.

With a disapproving huff, she pivoted sharply on her heel and departed, leaving a lingering sense of reprimand in her wake.

As the frenzied chatter about Sukuna’s body attributes gradually dissolved into the quietude of sleep, morning arrived with its routine of communal showerings.

Throughout the shared bath, you silently scrubbed away the remnants of the night, indulging your fellow concubines about your previous life in town.

Upon drying off and exiting the bathing chamber, you were met with an unexpected sight: a gathering of the girls clustered around your bed.

Navigating through the throng, you reached your space to discover a resplendent scarlet silk robe embroidered with intricate black floral patterns.

Gingerly lifting the note placed atop the fabric, you read Sukuna’s precise handwriting. Curious glances from the other concubines peered over your shoulders in anticipation.

No distracting embellishments, Sad Eyes.

“What does that mean?” a curious whisper floated through the air, followed by murmurs of intrigue from the other girls. “Why does he call you ‘sad eyes’?”

You clutched the letter to your chest, suppressing a grin as you ignored the questions, the mockery, and the jostling of bodies around you. Your attention was fixated on the magnificent robe gifted to you by His Lordship.

For the remainder of the evening, you slept without any interruptions, seeking to compensate for the countless nights spent battling insomnia within the confines of your foster home.

You observed with a keen eye that none of the other girls were ushered to Sukuna’s chambers; their time seemed to veer toward strolls in the back garden or spent in the dormitory, indulging in wine-fueled scandals about the palace staff, as was their custom.

As the clock struck eight in the evening, a troupe of maids entered the chamber bearing dinner trays. A wave of anticipation swept through the room as the other girls eagerly accepted their meals and accompanying pitchers of water. Your own stomach rumbled in hunger, awaiting your own turn.

But that moment never arrived.

Instead, the maid bypassed your bed entirely, moving on to the next. A surge of apprehension rippled through you as a handmaiden approached, guiding you away from the mattress and toward the vanity.

“What about my dinner?” you asked as the attendants groomed your hair.

“His Lordship has extended an invitation for you to dine with him tonight,” came the reply.

The room fell into a sudden hush.

Dine with him?

The notion sent a flurry of thoughts racing through your mind.

Before you could process further, you found yourself pulled upright, your garments removed to be replaced by the scarlet robe.

Envy flickered in the eyes of the other concubines as they observed, their resentment palpable as they stabbed at their food with exaggerated aggression. It wasn’t your doing that Sukuna had taken an unexpected interest in you.

With no adornments save for a dab of crushed cherry paste upon your lips, you were escorted to Sukuna’s chambers.

Once more, the imposing doors swung open, and you found yourself gently ushered into the chamber. As they sealed shut behind you, the room was flooded with light. Sukuna’s figure stared out at the moonlit gardens outside, clad in a billowing white silk robe.

“My Lord,” you greeted respectfully, inclining your head in deference.

“Draw near.”

Complying with his directive, you approached and stood at his side. His presence loomed over you, his stature commanding and formidable, capable of engulfing you entirely with a single embrace. Not that such thoughts dared to linger in your mind.

“Why is your face flushed?” he asked, his gaze penetrating.

You blinked, attempting to dismiss the telltale warmth creeping up your cheeks. “It’s nothing, my Lo—”

Before you could finish, Sukuna turned your chin towards him, his palm coming to rest against your forehead. A nervous swallow traced its way down your throat at his touch, his eyes trailing down your form, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as they settled upon you in your robe.

“Thank you for your gracious gift,” you murmured, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks.

His fingers trailed through your hair, a mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes. “I anticipate nothing less than thoroughly enjoying the privilege of removing it off of you.”

You blushed deeper at his statement.

“Come now. I’ve brought a surprise for you.” He took your hand in his with a tug, guiding you towards a doorway. With a simple flick of his fingers, the door parted, revealing a dimly lit hallway beyond.

Your gaze widened in astonishment. “How did you do that, my Lord?”

“Do what?”

“You opened the door without laying a hand on it.”

Sukuna’s striking blood-coloured eyes cut to you. “There is much about me that will be unveiled in due course, my love. What you perceive is but a guise for my true nature.” His smile, oddly childlike, sent a chill down your spine.

Was he some sort of sorcerer? You’d only heard whispers of human anomalies lurking beneath the earth’s surface or sealed within vessels, but historical accounts weren't exactly your cup of tea.

“I ventured into town today,” he said.

“Oh.” You swallowed hard, recovering from his previous statement. “I hope it was a fruitful trip.”

“Indeed, quite fruitful.”

In the soft glow of the distant hallway, Sukuna’s face came into view, casting a spell of trepidation upon your heart. His features were drawn into a mask of stoicism, his eyes devoid of warmth, and his lips pressed into a firm line, jaw rigid with tension.

Parting the curtains, Sukuna drew you near, his arm sweeping out to reveal a horrifying sight: your foster father, bound to a chair with chains, wearing the cruel marks of torture.

His face marred by countless wounds, an eye absent, and teeth scattered at his feet. His dignity stripped away, his vulnerability laid bare in his nakedness, and his manhood amputated.

The sickening lurch in your stomach threatened to betray your composure. “F-Forgive my intrusion, my Lord, but is he . . . is he dead?”

Sukuna’s response was a gilded dagger from within his robe, its handle decorated with a jewel reminiscent of your own captivating eyes. Nestled within the hilt was the very flower he had plucked from your hair. Upon the blade, your name was inscribed.

“Do as you wish, my beloved,” he whispered, his voice stained with dark fascination, offering you the instrument of your foster father’s fate with a chilling sense of detachment.

You couldn’t possibly bring yourself to commit such a heinous act.

Despite the unspeakable cruelties inflicted upon you by the bastard, the idea of taking another’s life filled you with a trembling dread.

Yet, the itch to end the torment, to rid the world of such a vile presence, simmered just beneath the surface as you stood before him, his life slipping away.

A hand trailed down the back of your head, guiding your trembling fingers to grasp the dagger tightly.

Looking up, you met Sukuna’s gaze, his expression hollow, his features obscured by shadows. This was the face of the Devil that cursed his enemies on their knees and had them willingly submit to death.

With a push from behind, you stumbled forward, drawing closer to your step-father’s prone form.

Glancing back at Sukuna, you were met with an incongruously bright smile. Quite a twisted paradox, His Lordship.

Your step-father sat unconscious, the stench of his bodily fluids assaulting your senses. His wounds oozed with a sickening mixture of blood and pus, his laboured breaths the only indication of life remaining within him. The scene was painfully familiar, a mirror image of the torment you had endured countless times before.

But now, someone had intervened, offering you a chance at liberation, a chance to end the cycle of abuse once and for all.

You glanced back again.

Until Sukuna.

Your gaze reluctantly returned to the true embodiment of cruelty before you. With a steady hand, you raised your arm, wielding the dagger with purpose.

It found its mark in your foster-father’s chest, a chilling silence punctuated only by the sound of steel meeting flesh. Ignoring the strangled cry that erupted from him, you withdrew the blade, then drove it back into his heart.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

His lifeblood painted your face and stained your pristine garments, mingling with the fabric in a macabre dance of crimson. To the untrained eye, it could easily be mistaken for a mere splash of vibrant colour upon your robe.

No one would dare suspect the truth.

No one would dare come near if they knew of your sin.

No one, except Sukuna.

Once the monster over your bed was consigned to the depths of hell, his guts spilling onto the floor around your bare feet, you allowed yourself a moment of grim satisfaction.

With a contemptuous snarl, you spat upon him, a visceral response to the years of degradation he had inflicted upon you for every misstep.

A comforting warmth touched your back.

Startled by the sudden contact, you tensed before easing at the sight of Sukuna’s faint smile.

As he reached to caress your cheek, you instinctively recoiled, lowering your gaze in deference.

“Forgive me, my Lord,” you murmured, “but I cannot permit you to spoil your hands with the blood of this man.”

Sukuna’s shoes entered your line of sight as he tilted your chin upward, his moon-white sleeve wiping away the traces of blood from your mouth and its vicinity. “You appear rather exquisite painted in blood, Sad Eyes. Perhaps I ought to designate you as my prized assassin instead of a mere concubine.”

“I beg your pardon, my Lord, but I cannot partake in killing . . . again.”

“You need not worry,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he drew near. “I will defend you from any who cast their gaze upon you, let alone lay a hand upon your delicate form. Those who dare cross that line will face my wrath, their very existence extinguished before your eyes. Not a single tear shall stain your cheeks.” His lips brushed against yours. “From this moment forward, fear shall not reside within you. By my side, you shall command fear itself, my love.”

That night, Sukuna bathed you in the sanctuary of his chambers, washing away the traces of blood from your skin as you gazed at him with a sense of wonder. It wasn’t the superficial admiration the other concubines whispered about—it was a profound affection blossoming within you, nurtured by power and protection.

He draped you in the luxurious folds of one of his silk robes, summoning servants to prepare dinner. Seated upon his lap, he fed you spoonfuls of rice and chicken, even as your stomach protested its fullness. Soft kisses peppered your neck like a sweet dessert, culminating in one upon your lips before he reluctantly released you to retire to your dormitory.

In the ensuing weeks, Sukuna would consistently send a crafted robe ahead of each meeting—in the serene seclusion of his chambers, where the flickering candlelight cast shadows upon the walls as you dined together.

Over the course of these intimate dinners, he eagerly absorbed your musings, whether they revolved around the narratives of books discovered within the palace library or your adeptness with herbs and plants, nurtured by your profound knowledge.

On occasion, as the first light of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, Sukuna would summon you for a stroll in the haven of the back garden. Woven between the fragrant blooms, you’d dance about with childlike enthusiasm, identifying various flowers and tracing their lineage.

Ever the attentive listener, Sukuna trailed behind you, his gaze fixed upon your animated figure. He would only speak when you fell silent, demanding you to continue sharing the familial ties between apples, plums, and the roses they stemmed from.

Within the crevice of your soul, the once withered garden of affection had flourished into a lush wilderness, blossoming with untamed wildflowers and clouds that spelled out his name.

Sukuna inhabited your every waking thought, his intoxicating mouth that worshipped your body left you giggling in delight behind your hands.

Yet, each encounter with a fellow concubine, flushed and eager with tales of their rendezvous with him, felt like thorns piercing your tender heart. Jealousy, like ivy creeping upon stone, entwined itself around your every plagued thought. Your gaze often strayed to the bedside drawer where the dagger lay dormant. The mere mention of his physique by the other women tormented your soul relentlessly.

Why hadn’t Sukuna taken you as he had with every other concubine? You had grown accustomed to his presence, even eager to reciprocate the pleasure he gifted you every evening. You had offered yourself willingly, aching for the intimacy that would bind you even closer to him. But he had not claimed you in the same manner, not entered you fully, not seeded his legacy within you.

Did he question your worthiness? Did he see you merely as a transient pleasure? Were you destined to remain just a concubine, forever denied the honour of carrying his child?

“Why do you remain silent?” Sukuna asked, turning the pages of the book you had suggested to him; he was already half-way through.

You were seated snugly between his legs upon the bed, your back rested against his chest, fingers idly toying with the strands of your hair. “I find myself devoid of words this evening.”

“Hmm.” Sukuna took a leisurely sip of his drink before placing it aside. “Surely you can conjure something. You know well enough that I cannot endure your silence.”

With an exasperated sigh, you rolled your eyes. “Well, I apologise for failing to provide you with amusement, my Lord.”

Sukuna snapped the book shut.

You instinctively pressed your lips together, silently chiding yourself for the unintended sharpness in your voice.

With a heavy sigh, you resigned yourself to maintaining your composure, forcing yourself to take slow, steady breaths. Deep down, you believed that he wouldn’t inflict harm upon you or cast you out of his chambers. But the nagging thought chewed at you.

This was Sukuna Ryomen, and you . . . well, you were merely a shadow in comparison.

“If you crave my touch,” he breathed softly into your ear, “all you need to do is utter the request.”

With a determined resolve, you turned to face him, settling yourself upon his lap. Sukuna regarded you with a quirked eyebrow, a quiet acknowledgment of your unconventional audacity.

“I do crave your touch, my Lord,” you confessed, your voice a hushed plea, “but not only with your hands or lips. I long to feel you in a different manner.” Your gaze drifted down to his pelvis, the unspoken appetite evident in your eyes. “I crave that.”

Sukuna exhaled heavily, his gaze piercing as he addressed you. “So, you’ve been withholding your words simply because I haven’t fed you my cock?"

Heat rose to your cheeks at his blunt proclamation, though you had grown accustomed to his coarse mannerisms over time.

“Yes, my . . . Lord.” Your voice carried a mixture of embarrassment. “I’ve endured three long months of anticipation, patiently waiting to share in the pleasures enjoyed by your other consorts. Yet, with the arrival of autumn, I find myself still untouched by the experiences they so openly boast about.”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Are you asking me to bed you merely for the purpose of becoming a notch in your bragging rights?”

“Never, my Lord!” you protested vehemently, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes. “I would never demean you with such vulgar talk in public. I’ve spun tales to the others, concealing the truth of our encounters. They remain oblivious to the pleasures you’ve granted me.” Your fingers traced the intricate markings on his chiselled abdominal muscles. “If my spoiled state displeases you, if I am deemed unworthy of your touch, pray, inform me now. Regardless, my sole wish is to fulfil His Lordship’s needs.”

Sukuna disentangled your hands from his chest, a gesture that caused a fissure to form within your heart, forcing your body to instinctively withdraw from his touch.

Just as you began to pull away, he swiftly encircled his arm around your waist, tugging you back onto his lap with a firm grip. Before you could utter a single word, his lips descended upon yours, silencing any protest with a passionate kiss.

With a purposeful touch, he skillfully divested you of your robe, revealing the curves of your form beneath. His hands, warm and adept, began to massage your supple breasts, kindling soft gasps from your lips. His own trailed a wet path downward, leaving a bridge of feverish kisses along the expanse of your throat, lingering over the rapid pulse beneath your skin.

As his lips found purchase on the tender flesh of your neck, his actions became more urgent, his touch more demanding. A pinch at your pebbled nipples sent a shiver of sensation coursing through you, followed by the heat of an open-mouthed kiss.

Your gaze drifted downwards, enchanted by the sight of his tongue encircling the sensitive spots, suckling on the swollen buds like a babe. Already, heat was building within the depths of your being, igniting a flame that spread between your legs.

Sukuna laid you back, relishing the delicate flavour of your lips as his fingers skillfully sought out your throbbing clit, stimulating it with unhurried circles.

With practised ease, he slipped two fingers inside you, quickening his rhythm without preamble. Your hand instinctively traced down to his chest, undoing the fastenings of his robe.

“Take it,” he whispered against your mouth, his breath mingling with yours. “Satisfy your lord, my love.”

Your fingers curled around his pulsating cock, the very object of desire that the other girls had passionately recounted. The knowledge of their previous intimacies with him only stoked the flames of envy within you, spurring you to intensify your ministrations.

With a surge of determination, you quickened the pace of your caresses, applying pressure with your thumb upon his sensitive tip while fondling his sacs.

Sukuna’s grin widened against your lips as he reciprocated with equal zeal, slipping a third finger into your slick heat until he was fully engulfed by your swollen core.

Together, you sailed upon the waves of raw carnal desire, locked in a lecherous race to reach your climax, each vying to be the first to cross the finish line—

Sukuna’s low, guttural moans resonated throughout the chamber.

You had achieved victory.

His essence spilled forth into your waiting hands, his cock convulsing with the intensity of his release. Moments later, you succumbed to your own climax, a soft cry escaping your lips.

With care, Sukuna withdrew his hand from your centre, and you instinctively examined your palm, noting the striking resemblance of his essence to your own.

You tentatively brought your fingers to your lips, savouring the taste of him.

“I did not instruct you to do that,” he growled, his gaze blazing as you tasted him. “But I suppose I’ll permit it.”

“It is salty,” you murmured, almost absentmindedly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, are you women incapable of discussing anything besides my cock?” he exclaimed, frustration evident in his tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension dissipating as he cleaned his fingers with his tongue before tenderly cradling the back of your head, drawing you to sit upon his lap. Your laughter softened into chuckles, a smile playing upon your lips.

“Did I please you, my Lo—”

“Sukuna,” he interrupted firmly. “Only you may address me by my given name.”

“My L—”

“I command it.” His tone left no room for argument.

You affirmed your agreement with a nod.

He was Sukuna.

Your Sukuna.

“Very well, Sukuna.” You felt a subtle shift in the air between you. His chuckle rumbled softly. “Shall I turn around for you?”

“And why do you deem such an unnecessary act necessary?”

“Because—” You suppressed the urge to divulge the whispers of the other concubines regarding his favoured position. “Never mind. How would you prefer me to present myself to you?”

“As you are,” Sukuna answered, his grip tightening around himself. “How you managed to have me spend by your hand in under five minutes is a marvel beyond my comprehension.”

Internally, you gave yourself a congratulatory pat on the back.

“Now, my love,” he said, inclining his chin towards his erection, “will you do my cock the honour of sitting on it?”

Licking the grin of your lips, you nodded, rising to your knees. With nimble fingers, you positioned his hardened length at your entrance, gradually lowering yourself onto him.

A sharp intake of breath escaped Sukuna’s lips, his hands instinctively grasping your hips. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, enduring the initial sting of penetration. Perhaps every touch of his fingers had been a meticulous groundwork for this pinnacle moment.

As you settled into your seat upon him, you granted yourself a minute to acclimate to the sheer magnitude of him stretching and filling your tight, supple walls.

Sukuna tilted his head back, impatience evident in his eyes. “Will you begin moving at a pace befitting this century, Sad Eyes?”

“Just a moment,” you retorted, your tone tinged with irritation.

“Unfortunately, the sight of your leaking cunt is testing my patience,” he remarked, his gaze lingering provocatively on your flushed form.

Collecting yourself, you affirmed your resolve with a nod before subtly adjusting your position, and swaying your hips forward. His strong hands guided you, aiding your movements as you sought a rhythm. “Gods, you’re— You’re quite large. It’s rather discomforting.”

“Ah, where has the enthusiasm to please your lord vanished, my love?” His laughter echoes through the chamber as he leaned back, amused by your scowl. “I must confess, your defiance is perhaps your most alluring trait. It has crossed my mind more than once during moments of handling myself in the bath.”

Your brow furrowed in dismay.

It was evident that the other concubines possessed far greater expertise in pleasuring him than you ever could. All you could manage was to feign enthusiasm, your movements faltering and disjointed, as you struggled to produce even a fraction of the satisfaction they effortlessly blessed him with. His laughter, which wasn’t helping your cause, bore an uncanny resemblance to the mocking tones of the girls who had taunted you in the past.

You no longer wished to endure this charade.

You halted in your tracks, unable to muster the courage to meet his gaze, your eyes fixated instead on his throat. “It appears . . . that I may not be adequately versed in fulfilling your needs. I shall endeavour to educate myself further before making another attempt. For now, I request permission to retire for the evening, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s grip tightened as he seized your jaw, compelling you to meet his gaze. “You dare to defy my command to address me by my given name?” His smile remained wicked as he drew your face closer to his own. “Remember, my love, there is a boundary to which I tolerate your rebellion. Do not allow my affections to cloud your judgement. I remain your Lord, above all else. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you managed to gasp out.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sukuna,” you replied, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

With a swift motion, he released your sore jaw, and before you could even consider easing the ache, his lips crashed against yours.

In that moment, control slipped from your grasp entirely. His hands gripped the flesh of your buttocks possessively, guiding your movements as he claimed you with a primal savageness that left you shaking in his embrace.

“Does it pain you, my beloved?” Sukuna growled, his fingers curling around your nape possessively. “Do you feel the strain of my cock as I breach your tender walls?”

You whimpered softly, your head nodding against the curve of his neck.

“Fear not, my darling. I will diligently train this cunt of yours to accommodate every inch of me, dusk, dawn, and twilight. Your throat, too, shall be honed to fulfil my every whim, wherever and whenever I demand.” With a swift motion, he tugged your hair, forcing you to meet his glare. “And should you dare to entertain thoughts of defiance with any other man beyond the confines of my chamber, rest assured, there will be consequences.”

“Sukuna,” was all you gasped, eyes rolling back as his tip probed the depths of your womb. His tongue traced the delicate curve of your throat before shoving into your mouth, drawing out your own to suckle on. In the heat of the moment, your hands roamed aimlessly, torn between grasping at his waist, clutching his shoulders, or caressing his cheeks.

“Oh, how I love the sight of your breasts greeting me in my face.” Sukuna tightened his hold on each of them with a deadly grasp, savouring the melodious cry that escaped your lips. He lowered his head and teethed each nipple, drawing it out and relishing in the masochism of your sharp nails clawing down his back. “Deeper, my darling. You alone hold the privilege of marking my flesh. Let my scars mirror yours.”

With caution, you shifted your hands to rest upon his firm pectoral muscles before you could accidentally claw out his spinal cord.

Sukuna’s touch drifted from your bruised breasts to cradle your face, guiding your gaze to meet his crimson one.

Encouraged by his comforting presence, you arched your hips forward with newfound confidence. His fingers swept through your hair, pushing it away as he offered reassuring nods.

Now, the reins rested firmly within your grasp.

“Fuck . . .” Leaning back against the headboard, he released soft sighs. Warm breaths escaped his parted lips as you continued increasing your ministrations. Your gaze momentarily flickered to your favourite book resting on his bedside table before returning to his face.

Suddenly seized by an impulse, you leaned forward to plant a tender kiss upon his lips, trailing upward to gently brush against his cheekbones, tracing the intricate markings lining his skin.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Someone must play the role of the tender one between us, Sukuna,” you answered, mirroring the attention he had given your scars during your initial encounter. With each kiss, you felt his eyes tracing your movements, following the path of your lips as they journeyed across his face, landing upon his nose or the pulse of his neck.

“My beloved,” Sukuna’s voice caressed your ears, drawing your focus entirely to him, “listen closely to my words.”

You halted your movements, a curious expression dancing in your eyes. “What troubles you?”

With a deliberate motion, he guided your hips forward, his gaze unwavering. “Throughout the night, I will fill your womb ceaselessly, and in mere weeks, you shall carry my legacy within you.” Your heart leaped into your throat, fluttering with an overwhelming rush of emotion. “Peril will shadow your every step. Those who oppose us will stop at nothing to eliminate your life and the life of our child. Do you comprehend the gravity of our situation?”

You blinked back the tears, resigning yourself to the inevitable.

“But I vow upon my honour, such an atrocity shall never come to pass. I will sever entire bloodlines if even a single strand of your precious hair were harmed.” His movements quickened as he thrusted into you.

Your grip tightened on his shoulders again, gasping for breath between erratic pants.

“At dawn’s light, all concubines shall be reassigned to palace duties. You need only point out those who have dared to trouble you, though their transgressions are already known to me.” His motions became more intense as he pressed you onto your back, pinning your arms above your head. “And when the sun graces the horizon, you, my beloved, shall be proclaimed as my queen.”

Your voice wailed through the chamber as you cried out his name, drowning in the waves of scorching pleasure never before experienced.

Instead of seeing celestial bodies colliding, your gaze met the deep crimson of his irises, those same eyes that had captivated you on that very first night.

“Sukuna . . . ”

With a smile mirroring his own, you tilted your head upward, silently beckoning him to seal the moment with a kiss. As he obliged, his cock pulsed within you, filling you with his warmth until every fibre of your being was tethered with his.

But he didn’t withdraw. Just as he had promised, he intended to keep you close throughout the night, to claim you as his own.

And in that moment, as you laid with him, you welcomed the dawn of a new chapter standing beside him, prepared to reign as Sukuna Ryomen’s queen.

11K notes · View notes

sttoru · 4 months ago

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⺡ synopsis. after wandering into forbidden territory - the training grounds of the estate where sukuna’s soldiers reside - an unexpected romantic confession catches you off guard. little did you know that another concubine would snitch on you in hopes of getting you kicked out of the harem or worse, killed.

𖠵 tags. true form!ryomen sukuna x concubine!female reader. angst mostly [w/ comfort, if you can call it that], fluff-ish., suggestive. make-out session near the end. size difference [reader's body referred to as small]. mentions of murder, execution. wc: 4.2k

sukuna has known from the start that possessing a human army would cause trouble, one way or another. technically, the overpowered curse has no need for a group of soldiers. he can take up any opponent by himself.

however, he enjoyed knowing that he has full control over some weak humans who are too scared to oppose him. humans who would die for his cause, if he were to command them.

human shields: that’s what he calls them.

“speak up or leave,” the king of curses commands, piercing red eyes glaring down at the woman kneeling before him. he sits on his throne, the aura emitting from his body being one that would send anyone into sheer panic.

he’s already pissed off due to being disturbed by one of his concubines. It isn’t you – his favorite – so he has little patience to spare for the girl at his feet.

the blond girl speaks up after taking a deep breath. she came here determined to go through with her sick plan, hoping sukuna would hear her out. she knows of his favoritism—everyone around the estate did and nearly every other concubine has been thinking of the same.

to get rid of the blatant favoritism once and for all.

the nervous woman talks fast, stuttering after every word. she spills every detail about the predicament that you had found yourself in a couple moments ago.

. . .

you were walking around the training grounds out of pure curiosity. usually, no one would be there around that hour, yet today seemed to be an exception. you averted your eyes the second you saw the soldiers training in only their hakama. their muscular chests and backs were out in the open, straight up eye candy for anyone who was walking past.

however, when they saw you - sukuna’s infamous concubine who they’ve secretly developed a crush on – they froze in their place and nearly dropped their weapons. the men didn’t expect any visitors, especially not a high-ranking concubine to randomly walk through this part of the estate. it’s a rare occurrence to have anyone but the servants and generals walk by.

you silently bowed at them out of respect. you didn’t have to due to your high rank, yet you still did. you actually respect their position as soldiers. that humble nature of yours was exactly what separated you from the other concubines. it also played a huge role in the crushes that those soldiers have on you.

out of fear for their lives, the soldiers have never directly interacted with you. they heard of what happened to one of the male servants who tried asking you to accompany him for a cup of tea. his body was reduced to nothing but a puddle of dark, red blood which took the servants hours to fully clean up.

but now that you were alone, without sukuna in sight, the soldiers were braver. one of them grabbed the opportunity and started walking towards you as you stood on the engawa, simply admiring the koi pond nearby. the group of men watched from a distance as their friend attempted to make a move on you. it was the perfect opportunity to convey his feelings for you.

or so he thought.

sukuna’s eyes are everywhere. even if you think he isn’t looking, he simply is. his informants are lurking from every corner. his concubines, chefs, servants, maids and guards. all of them are his eyes and ears. you’re never fully alone. nothing you do escapes the king of curses. if you’re not being watched by him, the people under his control are lurking instead.

in that instant, it was one of his concubines who had discreetly followed you.

you had noticed it a while ago, though didn’t say a word. it’s a usual occurrence. the other women always try to catch you off guard. to catch you doing something that you’re not allowed to do, so they can report it to sukuna, hoping that it would get you expelled from his harem. perhaps even executed in front of their eyes.

although every time they report something ‘controversial’ about you to sukuna, it backfires, and they end up with their head on the guillotine.

despite the many failures, they simply cannot stop trying. one day it will work.

the blonde woman had witnessed how the soldier put his hand on your arm to stop you from walking away. the cheesy smiles he had given you betrayed his true feelings—the words he uttered after the formalities only further confirmed the concubine’s speculations.

“i’ve been admiring you for a while now. you’re a lovely lady...”

“perhaps it’s bold of me to ask this, but i would like the opportunity to get to know you better.”

“lord sukuna does not need to know of this. i promise not to tell him, so please don’t worry.”

. . .

“...that’s exactly what that soldier told her, my lord,” the concubine concludes her story with a shaky breath. the throne room is filled with a tense and rather uncomfortable silence. the woman can’t even lift her head up because of how scared she is of sukuna’s wrath. she’s scared of the fact that she could be the first one he kills in a rampage fueled by pure envy.

the curse simply stares at the top of the blonde’s head. his expression is unreadable, but the veins in his neck and on his forehead slowly yet surely start to become visible. his blood is boiling, causing his jaw to clench and his hands to ball into fists. without a word, sukuna stands up from his throne. the air in the room turns suffocating—the concubine could barely breathe. it’s as if there’s an invisible weight pressing on her chest, making her struggle to get any oxygen in her lungs.

a rough hand reaches out to grab ahold of her hair. sukuna’s fingers curl around the locks and roughly yanks the girl’s head back, forcing her to look up. his face is close to hers; his eyes are wide and glowing an intimidating red.

“woman,” his voice has a dangerous tone to it as he speaks up. he grips her hair tighter, until she lets out a pained sob as a few of her blond strands float down onto the cold floor, “you know what happens if you lie to me, correct?”

the blond concubine swallows thickly as the tears prickle her eyes. she nods, already aware of the risks she is taking. “yes, my lord. i… i promise it is not a lie,” she whimpers. perhaps her promise isn’t worth trusting, considering the infinite number of times that sukuna’s concubines have tried to sabotage his favorite girl, but the least she can do is try and convince him. to get one step closer to her goal.

the king of curses releases her head with a rough push that sends her onto her hands and knees. his intense gaze is focused on the big, heavy doors that lead down the many corridors of the estate. sukuna grits his teeth to the point he can nearly feel them crack— how dare a lowlife try to make a move on you, in his territory? his home?

a lowly human he has granted the privilege to even breathe the same air as him, nonetheless.

death shall await that piece of shit. everyone who has seen the situation play out and hasn’t done a thing to stop it or report it, will surely meet their demise as well. heavy footsteps and the deafening sounds of doors slamming open alert every living being around the estate. the air turns tense as they scramble to hide and stay out of sight of the one who’s currently making his way to the training grounds.

. . .

you’re sitting at a pavilion near the area you had visited roughly an hour ago. your eyes take in the beautiful surroundings: the sakura trees, the neatly cut bushes and the hint of the distant mountains that peek above the walls enclosing the estate. being here puts your mind at ease, even amongst all the chaos that you have withstood within those same walls.

you think back to the man who had spoken to you a couple moments ago. the way he spoke so bravely to you, knowing it could mean death if anyone were to report it to sukuna. it sure made you respect his courage. even if you did reject his offer—out of pure fear for his life and your own.

besides, you have developed a strange longing for the ruthless curse over the course of your stay. sukuna might still lack in some aspects, but something about him is attracting you and you cannot resist it. that connection between the two of you is something undeniable. something that will not die out any time soon.

you get up to go to your chambers. you’ve been here for too long while you’re not quite supposed to be roaming these places on your own. you lift your kimono a little, walking down the three steps and onto the gravel path. while you’re walking back, a couple noises from inside of the main building catch your attention.

sounds of struggle. you’ve heard those sounds enough times before to be able to recognize them with ease. you watch as guards step out into the engawa, down onto the pebbles that stretch over the entire yard. they’re pulling along a couple of blindfolded and tied up men. it looks exactly like what it is: an execution.

your throat dries up as you freeze in place. you’re not supposed to witness any of this. you’ve known of the executions that take place around the manor but have never seen them firsthand. you carefully hide your face, so the guards don’t recognize you and alert sukuna that you’re wandering around this part of his territory.

your eyes are downcast as you try to make a run for it from the sidelines, attempting to sneak into the building. this is none of your business. you don’t want to see it. you truly cannot do anything to save those souls—your word is not final around here.

you don’t recognize who those poor men are, until you hear one of them plead for his life. you’re about to successfully sneak past the many guards, however your head whips to the side out of pure shock once you hear that familiar voice. that smooth and charming voice. your eyes scan the bodies of the group that’s about to be executed.

those clothes. the group is wearing the same pants that those soldiers had on. the haircuts, their voices… there is no doubt about it.

“what—” you’re about to speak up – revealing your identity in hopes of getting answers and perhaps delay the execution with the little power you have - when you’re interrupted.

how could you not have noticed that imposing figure making its way towards you before eventually coming to a stop at your face?

you don’t know what to do or say. it’s like you have met a dead end. you can’t go back, nor can you move forward as a wall of muscles cage you into place. you don’t have time to react before sukuna’s fingers move up to wrap around your throat. he doesn’t hold on tight, at least not to the point that it hinders your airway. it’s a rather possessive gesture, a warning to not move or try anything funny.

“stay,” sukuna orders. you know you cannot defy him in any way, thus you do as told. you catch a glimpse of a silhouette behind the pink-haired man. A frown settles on your face the second you notice who it belongs to. that damned woman. . . she subtly shoots you a grin, one that makes your stomach churn and your blood boil.

you had been too reckless. you should have known that she would tell on you. if only you didn’t come around this area, none of this would have happened. those poor souls would not be lined up in a row in the yard, awaiting their inevitable end by the hands of the curse everyone fears. you feel like it’s all your fault and that nearly sends you spiraling.

“’lord sukuna doesn’t have to know,’ huh?” sukuna mocks with a dry laugh. a shiver runs down your spine once you realize what he is referring to. those courageous words that have been uttered to you today. you swallow thickly as you’re forced to lock eyes with the enraged curse in front of you.

he scoffs and turns your head to look at the blindfolded soldiers who are kneeling on the gravel, “how cute. which one of ‘em said that to you?”

you’re unable to immediately answer sukuna. there’s simply no way out of this. he will know the truth one way or another. the other concubine standing behind him will surely spill the beans if you lie. your punishment will be worse if you’re caught lying and the thought alone makes you panic internally.

“answer me,” the king of curses demands. his fingers tighten the grip around your neck, his face leaning in right in front of yours. it’s terrifying, really, even if you know sukuna wouldn’t physically hurt you in any way. at least not badly.

he emphasizes his demand with a subtle threat, “and don’t you dare lie.”

it’s futile lying to sukuna anyway. your eyes fill up with tears from the pure pressure you are experiencing. you look over the group of soldiers that are on their knees, waiting to be executed. just a few moments ago, they were laughing with each other while practicing their skills, not having a clue of what would happen. you grit your teeth. life is unfair.

you refuse to point at anyone, but your gaze does linger on one soldier on the far right. that instantly catches sukuna’s attention and he makes a mental note of it. he isn’t dumb: he is aware that you’re softhearted and selfless. you wouldn’t publicly expose anyone, because you’re afraid of what he will do to them if he were to find out.

“hm.” sukuna possesses enough information. he releases you with a slight push, all four of his eyes focused on that specific soldier. an ominous silence fills the air before you’re excused with a quick gesture of his hands. the king of curses wordlessly commands the guards to draw their swords; not a single life would be spared.

why? because the other soldiers are just as guilty. not reporting to sukuna about the behavior of their follow squad member is an act of treason by itself. besides, sukuna doesn’t really need those soldiers any longer. he can always assemble another group of weak men and put them on the front lines, to play the role of human shields.

his arms are crossed as he stares each of them down. he is about to tell the first guard to start the execution when he feels you tug at the sleeve of his yukata.

you gulp as you cling onto the fabric. you’re trying your best to change his mind. as his favorite, perhaps you had that power. to stop the blood hungry curse that lives for death and chaos. “pleqse don’t—" you open your mouth, only for one of his hands to grab you by your jaw.

“y’ don’t get to tell me what to do, brat,” sukuna answers in a low, dangerous voice. he taps your cheek twice to remind you of your place. he pushes you aside, causing you to stumble backwards into the building. be may be ruthless, but not to the point where he’d force you to witness the slaughter that’s about to take place.

“i’ll deal with ya later,” he adds with a faint huff. he quickly waves you off, “now, move.”

all you can do is stare at sukuna’s back before slowly retreating into the estate. you feel sick. you feel like you’re going to throw up as you scurry past the concubine who also makes her way back to her chambers, the woman still grinning from ear to ear.

heads will roll because of you. again.

. . .

the estate is unusually quiet around this hour. not a single soul had the guts to get out of their chambers after word spread that another execution took place. this time it was a group of soldiers, all of them taken out without a warning. they fear they’re next—not even your own lady-in-waiting dares to talk to you for the time being.

you’re laying on your bed, unable to sleep your worries away. the warmth underneath your sheets gives you a sense of comfort, but it isn’t enough to drive the negative thoughts away. you only lift your head up from the pillow when the doors to your room slide open. you heart nearly stops beating in your chest as you see sukuna stroll inside like nothing happened.

his footsteps are heavy against the wooden flooring. you sit up out of habit, to greet him. your eyes are downcast, however. you know a punishment awaits you as well. you don’t think he will expel you from his harem nor get rid of you in any way. he would have done so the moment he’s seen you back at the training grounds if that were to be the case.

sukuna sits on the edge of your bed, crossing all four of his arms. he sighs the second he sees the gloomy expression on your face. his hand reaches out, fingers pushing some of the hairs back from your face.

he doesn’t speak up for a minute, simply allowing you to gather your thoughts. his index finger and thumb glide down to grasp your chin— a gentle yet firm touch. “y’ see what happens when you disobey me?”

sukuna’s reminder sure was a violent one, but that’s to be expected from a disaster curse like him. of course he wouldn’t change his violent nature for you; you should’ve expected that. you shouldn’t have become so delusional, so blinded because of the fact that you’re his favorite.

perhaps the special treatment is getting to your head. it’s making you feel like you have a chance at taming a monster.

especially now, as sukuna climbs onto your bed and leans back against the headboard, pulling your small body onto his lap. the duality is messing with your brain and making you unable to fully despise the man in front of you.

“yes, my lord,” you take a deep breath before eventually answering with those three words. you’re a weak woman, melting right into the embrace of the man you’re supposed to hate. you cannot help yourself as you feel those big hands rub up and down your sides.

“good,” sukuna’s signature smirk tugs at his lips. you’re easy to distract, easy to please. looking at you from up close like this is somehow soothing the anger inside him. he’s supposed to punish you for disobeying his orders— for going somewhere you’re not supposed to. for interacting with a man who tried to approach you romantically.

yet he cannot bring himself to continue his rough lecture. seeing you become all putty in his hands puts his mind at ease. hurting you? kicking you out of his harem? killing you? no, none of that. all those evil thoughts are thrown out of the window the second your body made contact with his.

sukuna doesn't know whether to dislike or enjoy the undeniable power you have over him. if it was any of his other concubines in your position, he would've executed them right beside those soldiers. maybe it is a sick and twisted sense of love that he has for you.

even if love is a foreign thing to a cold-blooded curse like him.

“y’re lucky i still have some use for you,” sukuna comments as his big hand moves up to rub your head, subtly ruffling your hair. his actions are in contrast with his words. his words carry the hard 'truth', reminding you of your place as his concubine. but his actions tell you that you’re more than that to him. more than just a toy to his collection.

his fingers trace your cheek, your jaw and down to the collar of your kimono. he slips two digits between the gaps of the fabric and traces your cleavage. your heart rate picks up, which the king of curses easily senses. he shakes his head with a dry and nearly condescending laugh.

you’re easy. easy to pacify, easy to shut up with just a couple touches. that’s also what he likes about you. the fact that you’re so submissive to him when you need to be. sukuna traces the curves of your perky breasts, “you should just look pretty for me like this—listen to me and not get into trouble.”

goosebumps appear on your skin from the sensual touch. a shiver runs down your spine as the tips of his fingers nearly touch your sensitive buds before retreating. it’s a tease meant to drive you crazy, to get you riled up only for nothing to happen.

sukuna leans in and nips at the skin near your throat. his breath is hot and heavy against your neck, his kisses are chaste and tingly. two of his hands pull your upper body against his until you’re chest to chest. his lips find your shoulder, fingers loosening the kimono to expose your sensitive flesh.

“none of this would’ve happened if ya jus’ listened, hm?” sukuna whispers in a rough tone. he knows it’s not fully your fault—that stupid soldier shouldn’t have made a move on you in the first place. although, he can’t help but play mindgames with you. to mold you into the perfect woman for him.

and you fall right into his trap. “sorry. won't do it again,” you reply in a quiet whisper. your own hands clench onto the fabric of his black yukata, eyes closed and head tilted to give sukuna better access to your neck. he appreciates your thoughtfulness as his teeth sink into your flesh.

“hah. that’s what y’ say every time,” the pink-haired curse clicks his tongue. one of his hands moves to the back of your head, fingers curling into the strands of your hair. he tugs at them so you can face him properly.

“. . .such a little brat,” sukuna’s eyes roam over your facial features and down to your body. he gives you a subtle grin before his lips meet yours in a bruising kiss.

you should be feeling guilty for being part of the reason why an entire group of people have lost their lives, yet here you are, shamelessly making out with their executer.

the love you share is toxic, but addictive. you find yourself crawling back to sukuna each time you promise not to fall for his tricks. and the same goes for him.

the king of curses finds himself tolerating more and more of your behavior—behavior that would have others in their grave. no matter what you say or do, he keeps you alive. he simply punishes you in other ways than death, even when death is all he knows.

sukuna bites on your bottom lip which causes your mouth to open. he takes advantage of it and slips his tongue inside, mixing his saliva with yours. he groans against your lips due to the pure pleasure he receives from your kisses.

you pull away suddenly, feeling lightheaded from the lack of air you were getting. the man in front of you scoffs and flicks your forehead for that, grumpy again because you decided to bring an end to his pleasure.

sukuna allows you a little break, however. he brings his mouth to your ear and you swear you can hear the smirk on his lips as he speaks. “y’re mine. don’t you forget,” he mutters to you in a low tone.

you nod without hesitation, “all yours.”

you will never forget that. no matter what you do or where you go— you’re still sukuna’s. in every way possible. there is no escaping him. no one can take you away from him, as you’ve been reminded of an hour ago.

not another man, nor another woman. not even his other concubines can get you out of his sight. they may continue to scheme, but they won’t succeed.

what happened today is still replaying in the back of your mind as the make out session develops into something more. you’ve pushed the guilt, sadness and shame aside for the time being, though you know that those emotions will come crashing down after this is done.

death is inevitable around this place. you’ve grown a bit desensitised to it and have accepted your fate a long time ago when you realised that you had somehow done the impossible.

now you - and the others - are actively suffering the consequences— the consequences of making the ryomen sukuna fall in love.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna fanfic #jjk angst #jjk fluff #sukuna angst #sukuna fluff #jjk x y/n #jjk x female reader

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kamiversee · 24 days ago

Text

𓆩 Crown of Sin 𓆪

Segment I Chapter: One

❀ ~ Synopsis > In which you’re a princess who's given a total of six months to converge & inaugurate a solid plan secure enough to rid you of your fated marriage arrangements to Naoya Zenin.

❀ ~ Content > language, arranged marriage, tension from all over, bickering, mentions of a harem, etc.

❀ ~ Word Count > 5.6k

❀ ~ Pairings > jjk men & women x f!reader.

{ chapters m!list }

——You would rather die a thousand times over than become Naoya Zenin’s wife.

Something unorthodox must’ve plagued the mind of your parents this morning because there is simply no way they’d worked up such an audacity to happily relay this information to you. You were to be wed in six months time and yet, this is your first time hearing of such a proposal.

Hell, you hadn’t even received a literal proposal from this alleged fiancé of yours so, who exactly was orchestrating such a wedding and why had you no say nor awareness in it before now?

“You two are humoring me right now, yes?” Your voice had carried throughout the space of the throne room with such grace that all the attendees of this rather small gathering couldn’t help but have their eyes drawn to you.

The few maids, guards at their posts within the room, your own mother and father who sat oh-so-comfortably upon their thrones, and the few others who were allowed to be in this space as such information was presented to you. Being the one to have ripped the bandage off and relayed said information to you recently, your mother cannot help but find her eyes drifting over to her husband for help.

The two exchange a knowing glance and you watch as they swallow down whatever nerves may have rested center in their throats. Then, your father’s shoulders raise ever so slightly and he averts his eyes over to you.

Voicing your name in that aged gruff tone of his, followed by a slight clearing of his throat, he begins to break the wafted air of silence. “You must understand that this is for the betterment of our nation. We rival none aside from the eastern nation so, naturally, it is only in our best interest to have you wed with the heir to the Zenin family throne.”

You scoff, openly. Eyes widen around the room and looks are exchanged by many but how do people expect you to react to this? Are you meant to be joyous about marrying the most pompous individual across all the lands, a man of which you have only ever encountered maybe two or three times in all your years of living?? Yeah, fuck that.

“So, I am meant to marry this man in six months' time, the engagement will be officially announced at tonight’s ball, and I haven’t a single say in this entire ordeal?” You breathe out carefully, your head tilting and eyes narrowing at the worried eyes of your parents.

Your mother responds with a shaky sigh, “Darling, we hadn’t any choice in this either. Our only options were to marry you off or go to war and we do not have the defenses to—”

“They threatened us?” You interrupt, another act that receives appalled looks from those spectating. “Please tell me you jest, mother. What could the East possibly hope to gain from going to war with us? We’ve been at peace for years and now all of a sudden—”

“Permission to speak,” Chimes another voice. Your eyes flick to your father’s left, landing on the one man he trusts with his life more than anyone else, your nation’s military general; Masamichi Yaga. “Your Highness.” He finishes off, gaze firm on the area of which you stand.

You take a moment to stare, taking in his roughened appearance despite the uniform that fits him so snuggly. Without realizing it, your eyes rake over his form up and down about twice before he clears his throat to break your lingering stare. “Granted,” You eventually allow with a nod of your head.

Yaga straightens up where he stands and exchanges a look of knowing with your father before he speaks loud and clear, “You are the princess of the second largest nation in our continent.” He states with a slightly quirked brow.

Which prompts you only to roll your eyes a bit.

“I believe you out of anyone else should understand the natural target that is placed on your back. Especially considering you are also the only princess in said continent. You’ve been at the age liable for marriage for a few years now and the reality of this has finally set in. The marriage itself is to join the East nation and the West into one. Should you refuse Naoya’s hand, he would simply join the two nations by…” A slight grimace is noticed within his expression, “Force.”

Yet another scoff falls softly from your lips, “You say this to me as if he is incapable of marrying a man. Surely, someone like Prince S—”

“Now is not the time to joke, my lady.” Yaga interrupts as gently as he can, “He could very well go on and marry into one of the other royal families but they do not rule over our nation, now do they? The east is the largest of them all, our sole rival. Do you not see the importance of this marriage taking place? It is either that or war and, as our queen has so clearly told you, we do not have the defenses to—”

“And what of the other nations? The north? The south? Hell, even the smallest out there; Middom? Is it not possible for us to rally our defenses with them and..” Your voice trails to an eventual fall as you notice the look on Yaga’s face. He doesn’t even have to cut you off this time for you to realize this conversation isn’t going anywhere.

You exhale and turn to your royal adviser who’s at your right side. Wide-set eyes and all, Higuruma merely offers you a nod of his head to silently console you. Like everyone else in this damn room, he was pleading for you to simply let this go and follow along with things like some pawn in everyone else’s game.

“You would rather go to war and risk the lives of thousands than marry this man?” Yaga adds on to question.

Your lips quirked and you looked at him again, “Do you want my honest answer to that?”

“No, I would like your noble answer.” He replies dryly.

“Tch.” You huff, your face flattening. “Of course I would do anything to avoid war, I am not cruel. But I do hope all of you realize what joint nations entail for our future—their laws and customs will be indoctrinated into our society overnight. And if you think I will have any influence over that then you clearly know not of the man I am to marry. The words of a woman carry no weight with him.”

Your father is the next to speak up, “We are well aware of what this means for our future. But, it is either that or… death.”

With a crisp, yet obviously faux smile, you nod to that. “Right. Well, if that is all,” You begin to bow your head for respect, “Mother, Father, I shall excuse myself.”

Then you swivel around to make your exit, only to be stopped by the queen’s voice once more. “That is all?” She asks.

You paused in your steps but did not turn back to face her. “I’m unsure of what other argument you expect from me, mother. I either marry him or we go to war, what more could I possibly say to that?”

The sound of her sighing can be heard. It was almost as though she’d truly expected or maybe even anticipated a longer refute from you. “...Just,” Her words come out in a slow fashion and you get the feeling that she may be able to read your thoughts. “None of your schemes tonight, please? If you’re truly on board with this then don’t do anything brash—”

“I wouldn’t dare.” You cut off rather rudely, turning slightly to then cut your eye at her. “Now, if you will excuse me.”

No more words are exchanged as you hastily make your way out of the room, only the sounds of your heels echoing through the large archways and halls heard as you do so.

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

Moments after you’d made your exit, two people had now taken your sides and followed rather closely behind you. Too nervous to say anything just yet, they both simply follow your hurried steps toward wherever you were off to without a word.

One was your knight, who’d always followed close behind you since your teenage days, willing to throw herself into the face of death at any given moment simply for your sake. Tall, fit, blond, with a set of brown eyes any person could easily find themself lost in, stood Yuki Tsukumo proudly wearing that pristine royal guard uniform as her steps mirrored your own in speed.

Beside her was that pleasant royal advisor of yours, Higuruma Hiromi. Also quite tall (who wasn’t these days), wide, tired eyes, and a voice that typically drives you insane with annoyance given the number of lectures you’d received by it—he was careful to trail after you, given all that’d recently transpired.

It’s a long walk of silence before your beloved knight breaks it. “I assume things went unwell back there?” Yuki hums cautiously as she fully takes your right side, leaving Higuruma slightly behind you.

“Your assumption would be correct,” You huff almost instantly as if you’d been waiting for either of them to say something to you. “I am to be wed in six months.”

Seeing as Yuki wasn’t exactly in the room while things were explained to you, she’d hardly a clue as to what had you pacing down the halls in such a determined fashion as you did currently. “Wed? Six months?? To whom?” She rushed out in alarm, her expression quick to contort into deep concern and alarm.

“The heir to the Zenin throne,” You say with a long sigh following shortly after.

“You can say his name y’know,” Higuruma comments before appropriately taking your left side.

You roll your eyes, “I would rather drop dead.”

At that, his feet come to a sudden halt and you and Yuki follow suit. “My lady, I know you are not fond of your… situation, but, what else can we do by this point? He will officially propose tonight and unless you can find another prince to do so before him in the next few hours then—”

It was like a literal lightbulb had gone off above that tiara-adorned head of yours, sparking Yuki’s eyes to rake over the excitement that washed against your features.

“Oh my, that’s brilliant.” You gasp with a turn to your recently spoken advisor.

“I simply cannot imagine how—pardon?” He choked, “You do know he is the only member of a royal family attending tonight, right? You couldn't possibly hope to… find a better suitor beforehand and even if you did, his highness would not have it.”

Every word of his seems to go through one ear and out the other as you take a step closer to him, flash a smile, and then move your hand to his arm. “My finest of gratitude to you, Sir. Higuruma.”

His eyes seem to widen with pure confusion. “...I do not understand.”

“You play your role as my advisor well, thank you.” You proceed, not caring to elaborate in the slightest. Then you turn away and begin walking again, “I know what I must do.”

His feet stammer to follow you once more, “And what might that be, my lady? You promised your mother–, the queen, that you wouldn’t do anything brash.”

“It willn’t be ‘brash’ at all.” You chirp simply.

“Then what—”

Pausing only one last time, you glance back at your awfully confused advisor and send him a reassuring grin. “Have my lady-in-waiting arrive to my room within the hour, I have a ball to prepare for.”

With that, your walk continues. Higuruma tries to follow you but he’s stopped by a hand meeting his chest. His brows pinch together just as he looks down, finding Yuki’s palm hovering over his chest in a silent motion to get him to stop.

He then looks at her and opens his mouth to protest against everything that’d just happened but with a simple shake of her head before he could even get a word out, his shoulders sink and he ends up turning away with a huff.

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

An hour does, in fact, fly by before you find yourself in the confines of your bedroom. With your feet meeting the soft cushions of a small stool, your head held high, and your mouth moving at such a rapid pace, you’d been venting to your lovely lady-in-waiting from the moment she’d arrived in your room.

“And the worst part of it all? If I am to marry that man then I will later be expected to carry an hier—fuck,” Your voice is cut short with a low curse as the strings securing the corset part of your dress are only pulled tighter from behind you. Your back straightens up a bit more than before and your voice pitches to a higher and breathier degree, “‘Hime, that’s… hah, too tight-, I can hardly breathe.”

She perks up from behind you and releases the strings from her grasp entirely, “Ah, I am so sorry, my lady!” The maiden gasps softly. Her fingers then trail upward along the fabric weaving through the corset holes and you feel her making steady adjustments. “I was so caught up in that story of yours that I uhm,” She loosens an area or two, allowing you a moment to breathe. “Got carried away… How’s this—better?”

You release a long exhale as your shoulders relax, “It’s much better now, as far as breathability is concerned. But,” Your eyes linger on the nearby propped up mirror and you ogle your figure closely. “Well, now it is too loose.”

In the mirror’s reflection, you notice those violet locks of hair resting atop her head sway to the right as her head tilts to study your figure from her angle better. “Hm. I see.” She utters to herself before taking hold of those strings once more. “I’m going to tighten it again, are you ready for it this time?”

With a nod, you glance back at her and raise your thumb up. “Mhm, pull until I say stop.”

Her hands begin to do just that, slowly pulling the strings to tighten the piece once more. As she gives her softened tugs, her eyes lift to your face and she watches the way a hitched breath leaves your lips. “Too tight?”

“Did I say stop?” You ask lightheartedly.

She shakes her head, “No, but–”

“Utahime,” You breathe her entire name so suddenly that her hands come to a halt immediately. “Keep pulling.”

Probably with some form of nervousness under your direct gaze and commanding tone, her head drops and she focuses her eyes back down to her hands—giving you one firm tug that makes your body jerk backward ever so slightly. You gasp, again, and this time a hand of yours moves back to grab her wrist.

“Right there,” You utter, “That is perfect, thank you.”

Utahime stares at your grasp on her wrist for a moment longer than necessary before clearing her throat and sealing that tightly pulled fabric with an appropriate knot. Then, she removes her hands from your dress entirely and takes a step back. “Well uh-, as you were saying, my lady?”

You’re busy twisting and turning slightly to gather your appearance in the mirror before you respond, oblivious to the nearby eyes also gathering your frame. “Oh, yes, I would be expected to deliver an heir not too long after I am married. Knowing my parents and the Zenin family, both I and the man I am to marry would ascend the throne mere weeks after the wedding. The very next thing that follows that would be…”

“Having his child,” Utahime finishes for you, her voice disappointed—for your sake. “I’m sorry to hear of this, truly. I wish there were something I could do to help.”

You chuckle before stepping off of that small stool you’d been posted upon, striding over to your nearby dresser, and popping open a box of jewelry. “Fret not, ‘Hime,” You console with a dismissive wave of your hand. “I will not marry any Zenin man. Not in this life, nor the next.”

She paces over to you and dips her hand into that recently opened box, “So, what will you do?”

“Good question.” Protrudes Yuki, who’s been leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom listening for quite some time now. “I am really just dying to know what that big plan of yours is.” She scoffs, earning your glance. She nods her chin to you slightly, “I saw the look in your eyes earlier so, tell me, princess… what’re you plannin’?”

The smile that spreads across your face was much too bright for you to fight, “Like everyone else, you two will find out tonight.”

Your knight’s eyes roll as she pushes off the frame and begins to approach you and Utahime. “Awh, don’t do that. The last ‘scheme’ you pulled off—”

“Got you your current position as my knight, if I’m not mistaken, Lady Tsukumo.” You adjourn as Utahime swipes up the corresponding jewelry to your dress and begins to assist in accessorizing you.

Yuki only gets closer before posting herself against the wall nearest to the dresser you stand at. She gives you a firm stare, receiving a matching one from you, before instead focusing her gaze on the necklace currently being fastened around your neck. “Touché. But it was reckless.”

“Harmless,” You correct with a shrug. “I mean, really, God forbid a woman gets what she wants through slightly drastic measures.”

She looks around the room for a moment before tutting. “You put yourself in harm's way just to test my capabilities.”

“I put myself in harm’s way to prove your capabilities to those who doubted,” You correct for a second time, flawlessly. “Plus, that was years ago. I won’t go to any lengths like that this time around, the safety of my nation is on the line. Just know I have an idea I may act on.”

Yuki can’t help the worry etched onto her face as she only questions you further, “And this idea is safe?”

Smiling still, “No ideas are ‘safe’ for women in this day and age.” You remind her.

Silence befalls upon the room and even Utahime’s fingers pause on the clasp of your necklace that she’d been struggling with for the past few minutes. Her eyes soon glide over to Yuki and they exchange a look, their thoughts mutual within the quietude.

After that briefness passes, Yuki’s voice softens and she leans toward you ever so slightly, “So then, perhaps you shouldn’t act on it?”

Your face twists up as if you were offended, “And marry that coxcomb?” To which Utahime snorts. “Over our dead bodies.” You huff.

The air seems to have lightened up and Yuki grins, “‘Our’..?”

“You’ve said you would die for me, yes?”

She hums, “Without hesitation.”

“Then, yes, our.”

Utahime’s accessorizing comes to an end as she finally gets that clasp in order and takes a step back—pulling you to turn around to face her, and then taking in your prepared appearance. “Perfect.” She chirps.

“Gorgeous,” Yuki adds beneath her breath with a faint cock of her head.

You’re left smiling at the hushed compliments from the two before hearing a telling knock on your bedroom door, followed by the voice of someone informing you that guests are beginning to arrive for tonight's event. You hadn’t even realized how much time you’d spent venting to Utahime and getting ready for the dreaded ball and now, the sun was on its journey to set and it was time for said ball to actually take place.

Sometimes, you forget how fast time seems to move when you are in distress. You soon reply to the quick announcement you’d been given and you and your two accompanying ladies begin to make haste toward exiting your bedroom.

Faint worry remains on both Utahime and Yuki’s face as they follow your lead but they make no more vocal arguments about it. Yuki trusts your judgement, to some degree, and Utahime is moreso frightened for what the future holds for you regarding this arrangement.

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

All doubts and worries entirely aside, by the time you indulge yourself in the festivities of the ball graciously hosted by your parents, your internalized fear for how things may go seems to fade. That timeless ballroom music you’d been surrounded by all your life floats through the air along with the sound of laughter and chatter from the lavish guests who’ve traveled from all over just to be here.

These glorified parties are a repetitive cycle you’ve been forced to grow accustomed to but, you’ve never minded them much until today. The entire time you socialized with the many aristocrats and members of high-class families, you couldn’t help but feel anxious. No one seemed to mention Naoya or his family to you, which led you to wonder if earlier that morning had merely been some lucid nightmare of yours…

Surely if this engagement were to take place tonight and had been planned out long before you were privy to it, someone would have mentioned it or even asked if you were excited for it by now. Unless all those around you were just as aware as you are of how dreadful a family the Zenins were..?

Or hell, maybe people were told not to say anything to you—

It’s then that someone bumps into your back, nearly causing you to choke on the bubbly beverage you’d been sipping on for the past few minutes. And just when you thought you’d scored a moment of peace for yourself…

An overwhelming sum of cologne slithers into your nose and although the smell is quite pleasant, clearly its wearer had sprayed far too much on themself—leading you to cough in an attempt to clear both your nose and your throat. Then, with an arm raised slightly over your face, you turn to whoever just bumped into you.

You don’t know what hits you first, the abrupt sight of him or that grating tone of his. “I swear you people have no sense of awareness. Has your sense of sight failed you, leaving you unable to see that I was clearly—oh,” Naoya grouses, his upper lip lifting faintly in a twinge of disgust. “It’s you.” He diverts, silently revoking his words prior out of what little respect he holds for you.

As unfortunate as it is, you have to drag your gaze upward to meet his. Just then, you mentally curse whoever's responsible for his mere existence because it should truly be a crime to be that painfully attractive, especially considering how all that typically flies out the window the moment he opens his mouth. You think your breath hitches at first sight of him.

Perhaps it was the proximity, considering he’d just bumped into you and made no efforts to back away after but, either way, he is undeniably… quite handsome. You have to blink thrice to register that this is the same rude man you’d last seen years ago, who you definitely do not remember being this… yeah, you won’t be throwing him any more compliments—albeit they’re all mental, as of now.

In the same way you seem to be taken aback by his appearance, he unconsciously weighs his head to the side as he drinks-, more like, gulps in your appearance. His eyes run up and down your face at least four times before he looks further down, in an attempt to glance at the necklace you have on, only to find himself leering at your chest and whatever cleavage you had visible. And, to say the least, if anything is mutual between the two of you, it’s definitely the attraction.

You decide to work up your usual confidence to speak, having reminded yourself who exactly you're looking at right now. “My eyes are up—“

“I know where your eyes are, woman.” Naoya cuts off with such a quickness that your head cocks back in immediate offense. But, before you can say anything else, he clears his throat and you watch him squeeze his eyes shut. “Pardon me,” He grits out, the words sounding as though it pained him to speak them. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so…” His eyes flutter open and he inhales strongly before cutting his intake off with a cough. “Close.” Is the last word he breathes out to you.

Your eyes remain on him and his every facial shift—the way he pulls his head back, takes another deep breath, bats his lashes elsewhere for a moment, brings his fist to his lips to cough again, and then shakes himself out of whatever that all was. You’re left unsure of what his body language translates to but you don’t believe you have it in you to care considering the way he starts talking again.

“Anyway,” Noaya straightens up where he stands and finally looks down at you (literally and mentally), “Let’s make this quick since I’ve finally found you, yeah?”

You raise a brow and move to cross your arms, “Does that imply that you were searching for me?”

His lips twitch, “No.”

“Some fiancé you’ll be…” You grumble out to him, to which he snorts.

“Just lend me your hand so I can propose, we’ve eyes on us.” He tells you rather quickly and quietly. You didn’t even realize how long your attention was on him before you blinked and looked around, finding the eyes of many lingering on you and him.

Oh. So people were aware of his upcoming proposal…

With a heavy sigh, you glance at him once more and he’s got this cunning look plastered all over his face. “I believe a man is to drop down on one knee to propose, no?” You ask almost dryly.

Naoya’s brows twist up, “You expect me to get on my knees for the likes of you?”

You shrug off his rudeness, “How else are you to propose?”

“You give me your hand and I slide this ring on your finger,” He tells you with a steadily lowering voice, dipping a hand into his pocket.

You honestly cannot believe the constant audacity that simply oozes off of this man. It’s as though he expects everything in his life to be served to him on a silver platter. “I will offer out my hand to no man who refuses to at least get down on one knee for me.” You tell him simply, your confidence not wavering in the slightest.

His left eye twitches in pure irritation. “I refuse to do anything ‘for you’.”

“Then I refuse to marry you.” You shrug.

He scoffs right in your face, “You haven’t the liberty.”

You huff back, “How can I be expected to marry a man who’s yet to propose?”

“You—“ Naoya grits his teeth and looks to the high ceilings for a moment before groaning slightly. He eventually returns his eyes to you and you can tell he’s over this entire thing. “Does compliance come this difficult for all women?”

“Does arrogance come this naturally from all men?” It’s from here that the two of you glare each other down while bickering back and forth as if it were second nature.

“Must you have a rebuttal for everything I say?”

“Depends on how long you take to propose to me like a proper gentleman.”

He pauses for a split second before sassily rolling his eyes, “You irritate me.”

“I’ve hardly done anything,” You reply with a lighthearted chuckle.

“Is shutting up something you’re incapable of?”

Dismissing him for the first time, you begin to look elsewhere. “Are you going to propose or not? I don’t have all night.”

Naoya swears he’s seconds away from tossing the ring in his hands into the nearest trashcan and declaring war because surely that would be much simpler than getting you to go along with things, “Don’t rush me.”

“You’re the one who said to make this quick,” You remind the man, noticing the distant gaze of both your parents and his.

The prince in front of you grits his teeth again, “I—“

“So hurry up.” Your hand waves in a dismissive manner as you turn your head back to him, “Get on your knees, Zenin.”

He’s clearly physically incapable of accepting any sort of orders from you without having anything to say so, “Address me by my first name.” Is what leaves his lips shortly after.

“I will not.” You deny.

He flashes a knowing smirk, “You must.”

“Or what?”

“Or I will discard this act of peace and declare w—“

“Fine,” You choke out, almost in fear. “Naoya… if you wish for me to be your wife in six months' time then you will drop to one knee and propose to me, properly.”

He finally begins to lower down to one knee, speaking in a harsh whisper, “The excess was unnecessary.”

“I care little of what you deem unnecessary.” You utter right back.

“I care little about you.”

“Good.”

Whipping the ring out quickly and assuming the perfect position below you, he glares, “Be my wife.”

You wish you had a way to capture how he looks right now. Naoya being on his knees is a sight no one can say they’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing before so, naturally, many of the onlookers begin to gasp and share gossiping whispers to one another.

You keep your voice low but many watch your mouth move, “Is that how you propose? No wonder you’ve yet to find a woman before me…”

Naoya’s fingers pinch the ring held up to you tighter and you notice a vein pop out along his sharp jawline, “This arrangement was not by my personal choice. Now, do me… the honor, and…” He waits a moment before raising his voice so that those nearby can hear, “Marry me.”

You deadpan, “It sounds like you’re demanding me—“

“Jesus-, fuck, woman!” He curses unintentionally with a momentary drop of his head. Before you can let out the laugh his reaction invokes, he flips his gaze right back up to you and looks you dead in the eye as he speaks in a firm tone, “Will you marry me?”

For the first time since he’s ever known you, you smile at him—causing his body to feel… weird. He thinks he hates that stupidly gorgeous spread of lips and flash of teeth that starks across your face. Then, your hand is held out to him and you nod. “I suppose.”

He narrows his eyes at you and doesn’t move.

You roll your own. “Yes, I… accept your proposal.”

Not wasting any more time whatsoever, Naoya practically shoves the ring onto your finger, his touch oddly as smooth as silk against you. “Finally. Now—“

“Under one condition.” You add on with a very slight retraction of your hand.

“Condition??” His brows meet and his eyes frantically travel over to where both your parents stand, “I was not informed that this would come with any—“

“No one knew of any until now,” You say as you lean down a bit.

He groans, “What is it?”

It’s almost as though there was some sort of shift within your tone. As Naoya moves his eyes back to you, he finds your entire presence wildly different in comparison to a few seconds ago. And the darkened look you hold in your eyes, the way that smile of yours had yet to fade—just what could you possibly have planned in that feeble mind of yours??

“I would like to curate a harem for myself during our engagement,” You requested.

Naoya fights internally to hold back the shocked laugh he’d almost let out in your face, “Why am I not surprised the wench wishes for a harem of all things…”

You let out an offended breath, “Excuse me—“

“Sure,” He scoffs, sizing you up and down as he quickly raises to his feet. “You can make your lil’ harem. Run around and tarnish your reputation all you want but, that will not be enough for me to end this engagement.”

Back up to his feet, he finds himself looming toward you and surprised by how unmoving you are, “I don’t plan on it.”

Naoya only inches closer, “Must every last word be yours?” He asks, breath fanning over your skin with a faint scent of… mint?

You respond silently with a thin-lipped smile, mentally discarding how you keep picking up on such small details.

To which a vein in his forehead makes a sudden appearance, “Oh you little—“

“Let us all congratulate the happy couple!” A voice, Higuruma’s, chimes in, “A joyous union this’ll be for our nations!” He announces quickly.

People rush to swarm you and Naoya within seconds, celebratory wishes and congratulations thrown at you from left and right as if this was truly some big surprise. Perhaps it was the fact that Naoya was actually able to propose to you and you were able to accept it without… anything else taking place instead.

So, you suppose you have something to celebrate now. Your request for a harem was approved without any question whatsoever. Perfect. You may not have had the time to get anyone of royal status to propose to you before Naoya did, especially considering it would take an act of love for someone to do so in the first place but, you sure as hell just bought yourself some.

m!list | next chapter |

tags 1/2;

@angellliqua @celestial-lunar @withcheese @itoshi-r @silvarys @everything-red @fishosezo @haesify @sassybananaweaselpsychic @orange-juice-is-ass

@notjustagirlinthisworld @sushiimara @larkson0 @di-in-al @sxnkuna @hanuh @cayla0000 @helloxkittylo @idkmanshrugg @chocolatecheer

@michelintopic @cinaminroll @french3xit @valleydoli @broimherebcsimboredok @sleepisforpuzzies @cuti3patooti8 @sukunadckrider @f0r7una @ventila98

@vixionix @levislug @mauve-gojo @chosomi @semi-lover @bee3l0v3r @noooo-onee @r4sh3li @yenayaps @chososbestgirl

@smutyturtle @simp-plague @pnkblueberry @stargirl-mayaa @kunareads @tojisdollx @gojoslefttoenail @forbiddenblog @glittercherry777 @samm1e13

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elryuse · 21 days ago

Text

ANTHEM pt.5

MULTIPLE FEMALE IDOLS X MALE READER

Tags : Harem, Sedcution, Kissing, Public Sex, Multiple Female Love Interest

Words : 4, 197 Words

For The Other Parts Of My ANTHEM Series, Please Kindly Check Over Here

The morning sun filtered through the blinds of Y/n’s room, casting soft stripes of light across his face. He groaned softly, stretching his arms above his head as he woke up to another day in the whirlwind that was ANTHEM. The events of the previous night with Yujin still lingered in his mind, the memory of her laughter under the shower spray fresh and vivid. But before he could dwell on it too long, his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

He reached for it, squinting at the screen. A text from Chaewon lit up the display:

“Oppa, good morning! Are you free today? I need your help with something…please don’t say no~ 🥺”

Y/n sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. Chaewon had been acting… different lately. She’d always been cheeky and playful, but recently, she’d been leaning into him more during practice, finding excuses to touch his arm or steal glances at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. He couldn’t deny there was something magnetic about her—her sharp wit, the way her eyes sparkled when she teased him, the way she seemed to know exactly how to get under his skin. But after everything with Karina, Wonyoung, and Yujin, he wasn’t sure if he was ready for… whatever this was.

Still, he typed out a reply: “Sure, what do you need?”

Her response came almost instantly: “I’ll pick you up in 30 minutes. Wear something casual but not too casual. Oh, and bring your mask!”

Thirty minutes later, Y/n stood outside their dorm building, dressed in a simple hoodie and jeans, his mask already in place. A black SUV pulled up, and Chaewon leaned out the window, grinning mischievously. “Get in, oppa!”

As soon as he slid into the passenger seat, Chaewon handed him a pair of sunglasses. “Here, put these on too. We can’t have anyone recognizing us, right?”

“Where are we even going?” Y/n asked, adjusting the glasses on his face.

“It’s a surprise,” she said, her voice sing-song as she pulled away from the curb. “Relax, oppa. Don’t be so serious all the time.”

They drove in comfortable silence for a while, Chaewon occasionally humming along to the radio. Y/n couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly stylish she looked, even in her paparazzi-proof outfit of an oversized sweater, leggings, and sneakers. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, with a few strands framing her face. She caught him looking and smirked. “See something you like?”

“Just wondering why you’re being so secretive,” he deflected, though his cheeks warmed under her teasing gaze.

Finally, they arrived at their destination: a small, brightly lit arcade tucked away in a quieter part of the city. The neon lights flashed against the windows, inviting them inside. Chaewon practically bounced out of the car, grabbing his hand as soon as he stepped out. “Come on, let’s go!”

Inside, the arcade was bustling with energy—the sounds of blaring game music, the clatter of tokens dropping into machines, and the excited shouts of players filled the air. Chaewon led him straight to the photobooth in the corner, its curtains slightly tattered but still colorful. “Let’s take some pictures!” she declared, already digging out a few coins.

“Chaewon, seriously?” Y/n laughed, shaking his head. “You dragged me all the way here for this?”

“Yes, seriously,” she replied, tugging him inside the booth. The space was tight, their bodies pressed together as she closed the curtain behind them. The screen flickered to life, displaying a countdown for the first photo.

Chaewon turned to him, her expression suddenly softer, more serious than he’d ever seen it. “Oppa,” she began, her voice low and quiet, “do you really not know why I wanted to come here with you?”

Y/n blinked, caught off guard by the shift in her tone. “Uh… because you like arcades?”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a faint smile playing on her lips. “No, dummy. Because I wanted to spend time alone with you. Just you and me.”

Before he could respond, the photobooth’s camera snapped the first picture. Chaewon quickly leaned in closer, her fingers brushing against his arm as she tilted her head toward him. The second flash went off. Y/n’s heart began to race, his breath hitching as she looked up at him through her lashes. “Chaewon…”

“Shh,” she whispered, her hand sliding up to cup his cheek. “Stop thinking so much, oppa. Just… feel.”

And then she kissed him.

It started soft, tentative—just the briefest brush of her lips against his. But when Y/n didn’t pull away, Chaewon deepened the kiss, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pressed closer. The world outside the photobooth faded away, leaving only the two of them and the sound of their mingled breaths. Y/n’s hands found her waist, pulling her tightly against him as he responded with equal fervor.

The camera flashed again, capturing the moment as Chaewon broke the kiss just long enough to whisper, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

Y/n stared at her, dazed, his mind struggling to catch up with what was happening. “Chaewon, I—”

The camera flashed one final time, freezing the image of her grinning triumphantly before she pulled him back into another kiss. This time, it was fiercer, hungrier, her nails digging lightly into his shoulders as she poured every ounce of her pent-up feelings into it. Y/n groaned against her mouth, his hands slipping under her sweater to trace the curve of her spine.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their faces flushed. Chaewon rested her forehead against his, her voice barely audible over the hum of the arcade outside. “So… did you like my surprise?”

Y/n chuckled, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “Yeah, I liked it. A lot.”

“Good,” she said, her grin widening. “Because there’s more where that came from.”

Chaewon’s lips lingered close to his, her breath warm against his skin as she whispered, “So… what do you think about us? About this?” Her eyes searched his, a mix of playfulness and vulnerability flickering in their depths.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding. The air between them felt electric, charged with something unspoken but undeniable. He could still feel the ghost of her touch under his sweater, the warmth of her body pressed against his. “I think…” he started, voice low, “it’s complicated. You know that, right? With everything going on in the group…”

She tilted her head, her fingers trailing lightly down his arm until they interlaced with his. “Complicated doesn’t mean impossible,” she murmured, her tone soft but firm. “And I don’t care about complications if it means getting to have this. To have you.” There was a weight to her words, a sincerity that made Y/n’s chest tighten.

He swallowed hard, his mind racing. Karina’s confession, Wonyoung’s teasing, Yujin’s boldness—now Chaewon was laying her feelings bare. It felt like the walls were closing in, the web of emotions growing more entangled by the day. But with Chaewon staring at him like that, her lips slightly parted and her cheeks flushed from the intensity of their kiss, it was hard to focus on anything else.

“Chaewon,” he said quietly, squeezing her hand. “You know this isn’t just about us. The group… we can’t risk—”

She interrupted him with a shake of her head, her hair brushing against his cheek. “Stop thinking so much,” she said, her voice firm but tender. “For once, just let yourself feel. We’ve been dancing around this for weeks—maybe longer. Don’t you think it’s time we stopped pretending?”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. She was right, wasn’t she? Every stolen glance, every lingering touch, every playful tease—they had all been building toward this. And now, with her standing so close, her body pressed against his, it was impossible to deny the pull between them.

“Okay,” he breathed, his voice barely audible. “What do you want, Chaewon?”

A slow smile spread across her face, her eyes gleaming with something mischievous. “I want you to stop overthinking and kiss me again,” she said, her tone light but laced with desire.

Before he could respond, she leaned in, capturing his lips with hers. This kiss was different from the ones before—slower, deeper, more deliberate. Her hands slid up his chest, curling around the back of his neck as she pulled him closer. Y/n’s hands instinctively found her waist, gripping her tightly as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers.

The world outside the photobooth faded away, leaving only the two of them and the heat building between them. When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other.

“That’s what I want,” Chaewon whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I want us to explore this. To see where it could go. I don’t care about the others right now. I just… I care about you.”

Y/n’s heart clenched at her words. He wanted to say something—anything—to reassure her, to tell her he felt the same way. But before he could, she stepped back slightly, her hands sliding down to grip his.

“But I need you to be honest with me,” she continued, her gaze steady. “If this is too much, if you’re not ready… I’ll understand. But don’t keep me hanging, Y/n. Don’t make me guess.”

He squeezed her hands, his mind racing. How could he explain the whirlwind of emotions he was feeling? The guilt, the desire, the fear of what this could mean for the group—and for them?

“It’s not that simple,” he admitted, his voice rough. “You know that. With Karina, Wonyoung, Yujin… it’s not just about us. It’s about how this affects everyone.”

Chaewon nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “I know,” she said softly. “And I’m not asking you to choose. I’m just asking you to give us a chance. To see where this could go. Isn’t that worth it?”

Y/n’s chest tightened at her words. She was giving him an out, a way to step back if he needed to. But as he looked into her eyes, he realized he didn’t want to. He wanted this. He wanted her.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice firm. “It’s worth it.”

A brilliant smile spread across Chaewon’s face, her eyes lighting up with joy. “Good,” she said, her voice full of relief. “Because I wasn’t planning on taking no for an answer.”

Y/n chuckled, pulling her closer. “You really are something else, you know that?”

She grinned, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. “You have no idea,” she teased, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “Now, are you going to kiss me again, or do I have to take charge?”

His answer was to lean down and capture her lips once more, pouring every ounce of his pent-up emotions into the kiss. Chaewon responded eagerly, her hands sliding up his shoulders to tangle in his hair. The world outside the photobooth disappeared, leaving only the two of them and the fire burning between them.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their faces flushed. Chaewon rested her forehead against his, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “We should probably get out of here before someone catches us,” she murmured, though there was no urgency in her voice.

Y/n laughed softly, his hands still resting on her hips. “Probably. But I’m not ready to let you go yet.”

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Who said anything about letting go?” she said, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Meet me in my room tonight. We can continue this… privately.”

His heart skipped a beat at her words, his grip tightening on her waist. “Are you sure?”

She pulled back slightly, her gaze locking with his. “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she said, her voice steady. “But only if you are.”

Y/n hesitated for a moment, the weight of her words settling over him. This wasn’t just about a fleeting moment of passion—this was a decision that could change everything. But as he looked into her eyes, he knew there was no turning back.

“I’m sure,” he said, his voice firm.

Chaewon’s smile widened, and she pressed one last, lingering kiss to his lips before stepping back. “Good,” she said, her voice full of promise. “Tonight, then. Don’t keep me waiting.”

The hallway was dimly lit, the faint hum of fluorescent lights casting long shadows as Chaewon led Y/n by the hand. Her fingers were warm and firm around his, pulling him closer with every step. Their footsteps echoed softly against the polished floor, but neither of them spoke—words felt unnecessary now. The tension between them had been building all day, a slow burn that had finally reached its breaking point.

When they reached her room, Chaewon turned to face him, her eyes dark with desire. She didn’t hesitate, pressing herself against him, her lips capturing his in a hungry kiss. Y/n groaned into her mouth, his hands instinctively finding her waist as he pulled her closer. The taste of her was intoxicating, sweet and sharp like cherry cola, and he couldn’t get enough.

Chaewon broke the kiss just long enough to whisper, “I’ve been waiting for this all night,” before dragging him inside and shutting the door behind them. The room was bathed in soft amber light, the curtains drawn tight, creating an intimate cocoon. Without warning, she pushed him backward until his legs hit the edge of the bed, and he fell onto it, bouncing slightly.

She stood over him, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she let out a low, breathy laugh. “You’re so eager,” she teased, her voice dripping with mischief. And then, with deliberate slowness, she began to undress.

First came her jacket, slipping off her shoulders like liquid silk. Then her top, revealing a lace bralette that clung to her curves in all the right places. Y/n’s breath hitched as he watched her, his body already responding to her every move. But she wasn’t done yet. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of her skirt, and with a slow, teasing tug, she let it fall to the floor, leaving her in nothing but her lingerie.

Y/n couldn’t help but stare, taking in every inch of her. Chaewon was beautiful—stunning, really—but there was something about the way she carried herself, the confidence radiating from her, that made her irresistible. She stepped closer, straddling him on the bed, her hands resting on his chest.

“Do you like what you see?” she purred, her voice low and husky.

Y/n nodded, swallowing hard. “More than you know.”

Her lips curved into a sultry smile, and she leaned down, her breath hot against his ear as she whispered, “Then don’t hold back.”

That was all the invitation he needed. In one swift motion, he flipped her onto her back, pinning her beneath him. The surprise in her eyes only fueled his hunger, and he kissed her deeply, his hands roaming her body as if trying to memorize every curve. She moaned into his mouth, her nails digging into his shoulders as she arched against him.

Their clothes disappeared in a flurry of movement, discarded carelessly on the floor. When Y/n finally entered her, Chaewon let out a gasp, her head falling back against the pillows as her body shuddered in response. He moved slowly at first, savoring the way she felt beneath him, the way her breathing quickened with every thrust.

But Chaewon wasn’t content to let him set the pace. Her hips bucked against his, urging him to go faster, harder, and he obliged, his own control slipping as the heat between them grew unbearable. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, filling the room with a symphony of pleasure.

“Y/n—” she gasped, her voice breaking as her nails raked down his back. “Don’t stop... please...”

He didn’t. Instead, he shifted his angle slightly, hitting a spot that made her cry out in ecstasy. Her eyes rolled back, her mouth falling open in an agegao expression that sent a jolt of primal satisfaction through him. She was completely lost in the moment, consumed by the intensity of their connection.

As her body tightened around him, signaling her climax, Y/n felt his own release building. With one final, powerful thrust, he spilled into her, their shared cries mingling in the air. For a moment, they stayed like that, their bodies pressed together, hearts racing in tandem.

When he finally pulled back, Chaewon looked up at him, her eyes glassy and unfocused, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. “Wow,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were sure.”

Y/n chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Neither were you.”

She laughed softly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

Before he could respond, she propped herself up on one elbow, her gaze locking with his. There was something unspoken in her eyes, a question or maybe a promise, but before either of them could explore it further, the sound of voices outside the door made them freeze.

Both pairs of eyes darted toward the door, wide with panic. The last thing they needed was someone walking in on them like this. Chaewon quickly grabbed a pillow, covering herself as Y/n scrambled to find his boxers.

But before they could fully recover, the doorknob began to turn.

“Shit,” Chaewon hissed under her breath, her heart pounding. “What do we do?”

Y/n’s mind raced, but before he could come up with a plan, the door creaked open, revealing...

Chaewon’s eyes widened in panic as the door creaked open. Without hesitation, she grabbed Y/n by the arm and yanked him under the covers with her, pulling the blanket up to their chins just as the soft glow of the hallway light spilled into the room.

“Stay quiet,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, her lips brushing against his ear. Her breath was warm, sending a shiver down his spine despite the heat pooling between them.

The sound of footsteps followed, slow and deliberate, as whoever had entered lingered near the doorway. Y/n’s heart hammered against his chest, each beat echoing loudly in his ears. He could feel Chaewon’s body pressed tightly against his, her legs tangled with his own, her skin still flushed from their earlier passion. The thin fabric of the blanket did little to hide the warmth radiating between them, but neither dared to move.

“Chaewon?” came a familiar voice—Winter. She sounded tentative, like she wasn’t sure if she should be there. “Are you awake?”

Y/n froze, his eyes locking with Chaewon’s. Her expression was a mix of amusement and mischief, her lips curling into a sly smile despite the situation. She placed a finger over her own lips, silently urging him to stay still, then turned her head slightly toward the door.

“Uh… yeah,” Chaewon called back, her voice surprisingly steady. “What’s up? I was just about to sleep.”

There was a pause, and Y/n could practically hear Winter’s hesitation. His mind raced, trying to figure out how they were going to get out of this without raising suspicion. But Chaewon seemed unfazed, her fingers tracing light patterns on his chest beneath the blanket, her touch both soothing and electrifying.

“I… couldn’t sleep,” Winter admitted finally, her voice softer now. “I thought maybe we could talk or something.”

Chaewon bit her lip, her hand stilling for a moment before she sighed softly. “Sorry, Unnie. I’m really tired tonight. Maybe tomorrow?”

Another pause. Y/n could almost picture Winter standing there, her arms crossed, her brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of the situation. He prayed she wouldn’t come closer, wouldn’t notice the faint rise and fall of the blankets or the way Chaewon’s breathing hitched ever so slightly when her fingers brushed against his stomach.

“Alright,” Winter said finally, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Sleep well, then.”

The footsteps retreated, and the door clicked shut, plunging the room back into semi-darkness. For a moment, neither of them moved, listening intently for any sign that Winter might change her mind and return. When it became clear she was gone, Chaewon let out a low laugh, her body relaxing against his.

“That was close,” she murmured, her lips curving into a grin. Her hand resumed its exploration, trailing lower now, and Y/n sucked in a sharp breath. “Too close.”

“You’re insane,” Y/n replied, his voice hushed but laced with disbelief. He could feel the tension coiling in his gut again, threatening to unravel as her fingers danced dangerously close to where he wanted her most. “What if she had seen us?”

Chaewon tilted her head, her gaze locking with his. “She didn’t,” she said simply, as if that settled everything. “And besides…” She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his neck, her words hot against his skin. “Wouldn’t that have been exciting?”

Y/n groaned softly, his hands instinctively finding her waist and pulling her closer. “You’re impossible,” he murmured, though he couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. “What if someone else comes in?”

“Then we’ll be quiet this time,” Chaewon replied, her tone teasing but her eyes filled with desire. She shifted slightly, straddling him beneath the blanket, her weight pressing deliciously against him. “Unless you want me to stop?”

He didn’t answer—he couldn’t. Instead, his hands slid up her back, pulling her down into a searing kiss. Their lips met with a hunger that sent sparks shooting through him, her tongue parting his as she deepened the kiss. Her hips rolled against his, the friction drawing a low groan from his throat.

“Quiet,” she reminded him, her breath hitching as she rocked against him again. Her movements were slow, deliberate, designed to drive him mad. And it was working. Every brush of her skin against his sent waves of pleasure crashing through him, every gasp and sigh from her lips only fueling his need.

Her hands roamed freely now, exploring every inch of him she could reach. She kissed along his jaw, his neck, her teeth grazing his skin in a way that made him shudder. When her lips found his ear, she whispered, “You’re mine tonight,” and the possessiveness in her voice sent a jolt of arousal straight to his core.

Y/n’s hands gripped her thighs, his fingers digging into her soft skin as he held her in place. “Chaewon…” he breathed, his voice strained with need. “We can’t—”

“Shh,” she interrupted, silencing him with another kiss. Her hips moved again, grinding against him in a rhythm that left no room for argument. “Don’t think. Just feel.”

And he did. Every touch, every movement, every whisper of her name against his skin blurred together into a haze of pleasure. The world outside the blanket ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them, lost in each other.

But just as the tension reached its peak, the sound of voices outside the door shattered the moment. Y/n tensed, his eyes darting toward the door as muffled laughter drifted in from the hallway. Chaewon froze above him, her breath coming in shallow puffs as she listened.

“Quick,” she whispered, sliding off him and pulling the blanket up higher. “Underneath me.”

Y/n didn’t argue, shifting so that she was lying on top of him, her body shielding his from view. The door handle turned again, and this time, multiple voices filtered into the room.

“Chaewon? Are you still awake?” It was Karina this time, her tone light and playful.

“We brought snacks!” added Winter, her voice cheerful now.

Chaewon propped herself up on one elbow, doing her best to look sleepy and disheveled. “Can’t you guys leave me alone for one night?” she complained, though her voice lacked any real annoyance.

Karina chuckled, stepping further into the room. “Come on, don’t be such a loner. We haven’t hung out properly in ages.”

Y/n held his breath, praying they wouldn’t notice the slight indent in the mattress where he lay hidden beneath Chaewon. Her hand found his beneath the blanket, squeezing gently in reassurance.

“Fine,” Chaewon sighed dramatically, sinking back down onto Y/n in a way that made him grit his teeth. “But if you wake me up again, I’m kicking you all out.”

The girls laughed, their voices fading as they began to chatter among themselves. Y/n could feel Chaewon’s body shaking slightly with suppressed laughter, her face buried in his shoulder to muffle the sound.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” he muttered, his lips brushing against her ear.

Chaewon grinned against his skin. “Maybe a little.” She shifted slightly, her knee brushing against him in a way that made him bite back a groan. “But don’t worry… I’ll make it up to you later.”

Y/n had no doubt she would. But for now, all he could do was lie there, his heart pounding as he waited for the girls to leave—and for Chaewon to make good on her promise…

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #kpop smut #lesserafim chaewon #kim chaewon #kim chaewon smut #izone chaewon #chaewon smut #chaewon #beautiful

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cherienymphe · 11 months ago

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There Will Be Blood

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Reader x Lady Margot Fenring

Summary: Knowing that you are too afraid to ever find yourself alone with the Harkonnen heir, Lady Margot secures his heart's desire for his celebration day.

warnings: Dub-Con (use of the voice), blood, knifeplay, choking, threesome, mentions of cannibalism, non canon ages, spoiler free

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies

⭑

“She looks almost good enough to eat,” were the words that reached your ears in that low timbre, head tilted as he gazed at you. “I don’t know whether to feed her to my darlings…”

The feeling of his finger underneath your chin was almost nonexistent as he tilted your head up. You were too anxious to look away—his reputation preceding him—and even if you wanted to, you couldn’t. You felt paralyzed, held captive by that dark blue gaze you swore was actually black as night in certain lighting.

“…or make her one of them.”

You swallowed at that, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes followed the subtle movement.

He was referring to his ‘pets’ as you knew he sometimes called them, the three strikingly beautiful Harkonnen women with an appetite for human flesh. The thought of being killed and fed to the women in question made your heart skip a beat…but the thought of being added to his harem made you shudder.

…and you couldn’t tell if the feeling was good or bad.

Hands slid over your shoulders from behind, making you shiver again, and your lashes fluttered at the feeling of soft lips grazing your throat. You faintly tried to remember how and why you ended up here, and you could only recall staring into enticing blue eyes. Her familiar face was all that stood out in your memory, features soft and lips curved into an even softer smile. With all of that being said though, you couldn’t remember your thought process behind following her perfect figure down the hall.

Lady Margot Fenring—golden-haired and willowy with that Bene Gesserit serene repose about her that you found subtly disturbing.

Usually.

In this moment, her calm disposition and quiet authority made your heart race. She was a comforting contrast to the man before you, his intense gaze and sharp features serving to make your imagination run wild with what he was capable of. He was so different from his brother, vastly so from his uncle, but he still possessed similarities with the two that made you nervous all the same.

Especially with his hand so close to your throat.

“This one isn’t for consumption.”

Her lips brushed your skin as her soft and even tone filled your ears.

“Not in the literal sense, at least…” mirth colored her voice at this remark. “I saw you watching her.”

Those words made your heart sink, and you were sure that the brief stab of fear you felt passed through your eyes.

Feyd-Rautha was psychotic. He was the kind of man that would kill someone solely because he felt like it. He had an animalistic stare that made alarm bells go off in your head, telling you to never take your eyes off of him—to always keep him in your line of sight. He was the kind of man you couldn’t let your guard down around.

He was the kind of man you didn’t want watching you.

As if he could read your worrisome thoughts, a glint passed through the man’s eyes, and he leaned in closer. Not one to conceal his feelings in any situation, his expression twisted into one of amusement, a sight that made your hair stand on end. Those soft hands slid over your shoulders and down your arms, gently caressing them.

Don’t be afraid.

A voice that didn’t sound like your own filled your mind, its influence settling into your bones and deep into the crevices of your subconscious. You felt yourself relax, felt the tension leaving you, and her soft hum had you leaning back into her chest. You didn’t want to be afraid, and you felt confident in repeating those words to yourself, confirming that there was nothing to be afraid of.

“You want her,” her fingers grazed your jaw, briefly touching his own. “…but she fears you far too much to ever find yourself alone with her.”

“I like them afraid.”

Those words made you blink, your lips parting at the sincerity in them. By the way he held your gaze, you could tell he wanted you to know he meant it, but that voice in your mind assured you that you had nothing to be afraid of. Not when he leaned in closer, and not when his hand traveled from your chin and down to circle your neck.

“You get too excited,” the blonde woman steadily told him, a hint of authority in her voice. “You would kill her.”

Her fingers on your jaw forced you to turn your head, making you look at her, and when she kissed you, you welcomed it. It was a comforting kiss, one that relaxed you further, and you couldn’t help but to close your eyes and bask in the feel of her lips touching yours. Your skin grew warm, and you touched her arm.

“I’m here to keep you in line.”

She spoke the words into your mouth, but she wasn’t talking to you.

Feyd-Rautha’s lack of protest or anger at her words gave you the impression that you were being included in something that already existed. He let her kiss you, the heat of his gaze burning a hole into the side of your face as she drew you in closer. The feeling in your chest was both light and heavy, and you felt as if you couldn’t get close enough to her.

Lady Margot had an aura about her that you’d always been ensnared by—the way she talked, the way she swayed when she walked, and especially the way those attentive eyes watched everyone and everything so closely. She smelled fresh and crisp, an airy feminine aroma filling your nose as her hand rested on the side of your throat, Feyd-Rautha’s arm long falling back at his side.

When she pulled away, only the tip of her nose lightly touched yours.

“He wants you to touch him.”

Her voice reverberated in your mind, influencing your thoughts and movements, and you found yourself turning to look at the man in question. Your advance was slow, hesitant in reaching out to place your hands on the black fabric of his shirt. He visibly shuddered at the contact, and despite the fact that you were clothed, you felt vulnerable and naked underneath his intense gaze.

“This one is fragile, Feyd-Rautha,” amusement danced around her words. “You have to play gentle if you want to keep her.”

Almost as if he wanted to defy her, his hand quickly wrapped itself around your throat, forcing you closer. Your heart stuttered at the action, and despite that brief bout of adrenaline—your body’s way of telling you that you were in danger—that influential voice in your mind told you that you were safe. Your breathing was shallow as you looked at him with wide eyes.

His own gaze traveled over your form, his perusal slow and his hand tightening. You reached up, grabbing his arm, and the noise of protest he made was a cross between a grunt and a hum. His nose touched yours, and when he spoke again, it sounded like there was gravel in his throat.

“Do you fear me?”

The thought settled in your mind that he wanted you to say yes, and so you did, barely whispering it.

That pleased him, and he presented you with a terrifying smile. His fingers were pressing into the skin of your neck, and his blue gaze studied yours, eyes flickering between your own. There was a carnal excitement there that told you he lusted for more than just your body, and when you winced at the grip he had on your throat, it only grew.

“Good,” he praised in a guttural tone.

Kissing Feyd-Rautha was nothing like kissing Lady Margot.

It wasn’t meant to be a gentle and comforting experience, but instead one that forced you to face every one of your discomforts head on. His teeth pressing into your lips, his hand cutting off your airway, the lack of warning as he pushed you back. Every action was designed to make you squirm, and despite that feeling, heat still settled in the pit of your stomach as his weight pressed down on you.

Lady Margot’s gentle touch made your leg tingle. She was pulling on it, making room for him while her other hand grabbed your arm, and you shuddered at the feel of her lips kissing a path to your wrist. The contrast in their efforts made your head spin, and Feyd-Rautha’s constricting grip on your throat only disappeared when his lips replaced his hand instead.

Pain blossomed beneath where his teeth were, and you gasped, chest arching up into his involuntarily. His hands on your frame were tense, like he wanted to twist and tear you apart, but something disallowed him from doing so. When he kissed you again, the pain in your neck lingered, flaring from spot to spot, and you didn’t doubt that bruises would be there.

When you were forced to sit up, the soft and thin fabric of your dress was pulled at by two sets of hands. A feminine touch loosened the back, her lips following behind where his once were, soothing the irritated skin there. He, on the other hand, was yanking your sleeves down, and the sound of a slight tear or two in the fabric could be heard.

The cold air hit you for half a second before a warm mouth covered a sensitive bud before it even had time to harden. The sharp feeling of his teeth pressing into the skin of your breast made you shy away, but with Lady Margot at your back, you had nowhere to go. Her lips along your neck and shoulder was a welcomed feeling, a soothing contrast against the pain the Harkonnen man was inflicting. It almost faded to the background completely when her hand found its way between your thighs.

Your lips parted, and your lashes fluttered, and you couldn’t help but to lift your hips. Her fingers were soft against your skin, the appendages sliding between your folds and stroking you. One of your hands reached down to rest on hers, riding along with her ministrations while the other reached up to grip the arm of the man intent on breaking skin.

The feel of Lady Margot’s fingers pushing into you and curving against your walls made you circle your hips. The pain and pleasure were starting to blend together so closely that you couldn’t tell what you liked and didn’t like. His teeth scraping down your torso had your breath hitching, and the Bene Gesserit woman behind you hummed when you clenched around her fingers. It sounded like a noise of approval, and when she spoke, her tone and words confirmed that suspicion.

“She likes that,” she mused, her free hand coming up to run over your chest. “She’s starting to like the pain.”

She was right.

Almost as if that triggered something in him, the blue-eyed man relinquished control completely, fingers digging into the tops of your thighs as he pulled you forward. The action caused you to collapse, your head resting in Lady Margot’s lap as he finished removing your dress, the fabric falling around you in tatters. There was only a brief bout of alarm when he brandished a small blade from his waist.

There was that voice again, settling and taking up residence in your mind, telling you not to be afraid.

Pain flared along your skin in a singular path as the tip of the blade just barely grazed your flesh. It was so sharp that a thin line of blood followed the weapon’s descent, but it was gone as quickly as it came as his tongue slipped past his lips, ingesting your essence and soothing that sting. Your eyes closed, and you welcomed her kiss as she leaned over.

Feyd-Rautha’s own lips kissed you too…just before he sank his teeth into your skin.

You were given bites and nips between the kisses—along your hip and along your thighs and eventually in between your thighs. Your hips lifted, and your back arched, and you unintentionally bit Lady Margot’s lip. She smiled into the kiss, and you knew that she could taste the same blood you felt on your own tongue.

Feyd-Rautha was a mad man between your legs, tongue and teeth playing with you, the blade in his hand pressed against your thigh. The soles of your feet pressed into the bed, wanting to both run away from the pain and run towards it. Every shallow cut made into your skin was soothed by his tongue almost immediately, and you wanted to be embarrassed by how wet their combined ministrations made you.

When you found yourself on your knees, the blade at your throat and his naked chest at your back, you could see the way Lady Margot’s gaze held his. Her face was serene and thoughtful, almost as if she were having a silent conversation with the man at your back. The sharpness of his blade drew blood, and by the way his free hand smeared it along your skin, you knew that it turned him on.

“Gentle,” she reminded him, standing.

He wasn’t so gentle when he pushed his way into you, making you sharply inhale, but the blade remained light against your throat. You tilted your head back, both to relieve the sting and because the feel of his cock sliding into you had you submitting. His own deep grunts were right at your ear, and his bloody hand trailed down your frame to roughly knead into your skin.

The sound of skin slapping against skin made your ears twitch, and when he roughly pushed you down with a hand on your back, your fingers twisted into the sheets of the luxurious bed. Your head was bowed, forehead grazing the fabric as he fucked you, power and aggression driving every thrust. Lady Margot was right, you were afraid of the Baron’s sole heir, positive that you’d never find yourself alone with him before today.

Even if you doubted it, you would have never guessed this is how he’d choose to spend his birthday celebration. While fireworks were exploding and food and drink was being passed around, Feyd-Rautha was spending his time burying his cock in you. His fingers twisted painfully into your hair, making you yelp, and the sound only made him fuck you harder.

“Are you still afraid of me?” he roughly asked you, and when you started to nod, he pushed your face down into the bed.

Understanding what he wanted, you managed to force out a small affirmation.

“Yes,” you choked out.

The low laugh that he let out was menacing, and he was aggressive in pushing you onto your back. His hand was tight when it found a home on your throat, pinning you in place as he snapped his hips into yours. The force was enough to make you wince, and his brutal treatment didn’t go unnoticed, the blonde woman coming up behind the man.

Her gaze found yours, holding it as she whispered something into his ear that yours weren’t privy to. Her beautiful hands came around to slide along his smooth chest, her lips still brushing against his ear. Her lips traveled to his throat as he pulled away from you, pulling out and allowing the other woman to guide him to sit back.

He was uncharacteristically still as he watched her take his place.

“Come.”

Her simple command was impossible to disobey, and you sat up, doing as she said. With a hand on the back of your head, she guided you towards the man, an imposing urge to touch him descending over you. With your hands sliding along his lithe frame, her fingers applied pressure, and your head lowered.

Your lips stretched around him as you tasted his cock, tongue flat and cheeks hollowed. Feminine hands were gliding over your curves, fingers eventually sinking into you again. You closed your eyes at the feel, relaxing and heart calming at the 180 from Feyd-Rautha’s earlier brutality. At the thought of him, you peeled your eyes open, looking up at him from beneath your lashes.

It amazed you, how he could be so dominant and forceful with you but so obedient and almost subdued with her. With one look into his eyes or the feel of her hands against his skin, he became a momentarily tamed wild animal. The feral glint in his eyes couldn’t be done away with, the desire to cause pain coloring his features whenever his gaze connected with yours.

As Lady Margot gently curved her fingers into you, you found yourself craving that feeling again.

Your neck and torso still faintly stung from where his blade had drawn blood, and you got the feeling that your skin was already starting to bruise from where he’d tightly held you. You recalled her earlier words, about her presence serving to keep him in line, and your mind lingered on the aches you felt from what he’d done while she was here. You wondered what would be in store for you should he ever get you completely alone.

You suspected that she was right.

He would get too excited…and probably kill you.

When his lips curved into a small smirk, you knew then that your thoughts were written on your face—along with your fear. His hand on your head made you nervous, and still you slid your mouth up and down the length of him. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs, Lady Margot’s soft ministrations stroking that fire deep within your stomach. It made you moan around him, and if possible, you swore Feyd-Rautha’s eyes darkened at both the sound and feel.

“She would make a well-behaved pet,” he haughtily said.

The way he stared into your eyes told you that was meant more so for you than her. They both shifted, leaning in and you heard them kiss above your head.

“I knew that you would enjoy her,” the blonde woman confidently said, her even tone unable to hide her satisfaction. “Provided you don’t break her.”

When she pulled away, she pulled away from you too, and with a hand on your chin, she lifted your head. She guided you to kiss him, her own lips resting against your cheek, her soft voice telling you not to be afraid. You wanted to listen, your own mind agreeing, and so you welcomed the pain when blood bloomed along your lips.

Feyd-Rautha enjoyed the taste, roughly grabbing your hands and pinning them behind you at the small of your back. He didn’t tell you to lie down, instead making you, and you winced at the feel of your hands trapped beneath your own body. His lips were stained red when he pulled away, and your mouth parted into an ‘O’ shape when the head of his cock started to stretch you out again.

You were completely powerless—at his mercy—and you cried out at the rough curve of his hips. He looked vicious above you, focused not on chasing his high but on seeing the register of pain on your face instead. That was what brought him pleasure, watching you wince and squirm beneath him and his intense thrusts. If his hand wasn’t on your throat then it was yanking your hair or digging into the soft flesh of your breast.

He seemed to like the sight of marking you up whether it be with his teeth or his hand…or that blade.

He held it against your throat while he fucked you, sometimes sliding the flat part down your chest, blue eyes transfixed by the metal pressing against your skin. Occasionally he’d turn it, the edge grazing you, making a cut just shallow enough and then he’d lean down to taste you. Spots of his own flesh was marred by your blood, and he obviously didn’t care as he smeared it over both of you with every movement.

With your hands free, you clutched onto the sheets, eyes rolling into the back of your head. His hands were painfully tight on your waist, keeping your hips lifted for him as he thrust into you. Lady Margot—silently and appreciatively watching—slid her hands along the bed to grab your hands. Her fingers intertwined with your own, holding them down, and you welcomed the gentle kisses she placed on your wrists and then your cheek before finally your lips.

The man above you made a noise of disapproval, and after some time, she granted him what he wanted, his own rough lips replacing hers. You panted into the kiss, tasting your blood on his lips, and you felt almost delirious. It was a constant cycle of pain and pleasure that had you chasing him when he started to pull away. The laugh he gave at the sight told you his thoughts on the matter, but you didn’t care how much power you were giving him.

His gaze suddenly lifted, and his thrusts didn’t stop as he faced Lady Margot. You felt hypnotized as you watched them, eyes focused on the way Feyd-Rautha stuck out his tongue, elongating it in a way you didn’t think possible. The willowy woman had let you go, taking his own blade and dragging the edge of it down his tongue.

It was then that you realized the man inside of you enjoyed pain almost as much as he liked inflicting it.

You wondered if that was why he was so submissive towards her, why she could order him around and why she was so confident that she could keep him in line. You were unsurprised when they kissed, the brutal man kissing you after a while when they finally parted. You swore that his blood tasted completely different from your own.

A thin layer of sweat coated your skin, and you felt almost completely spent. You were sure that the celebration of his birth was still being had while he chose to celebrate between your legs. His strength and the knowledge of how easily he could snuff you out played a part in the way you clenched around his cock. You could feel that you were close—and so could he.

His hand completely obstructed your breathing, and you could only hold onto his wrist. With every thrust into your cunt, the heat in the pit of your stomach grew. Your heart was racing, and your eyes struggled to remain open, and your toes curled as he stretched you around him. A noise of appreciation reached your ears, and for a moment you wondered if he was going to snap your neck.

He could do it. The strength in his hand told you so and that he would probably barely exert himself doing so. You felt your neck strain underneath his fingers, and your nails drew blood over his skin. You knew he liked that because he kissed you again. Your shallow breaths hit his face, and just as you were on the verge of passing out, you came.

…and his hold loosened.

The rush of air into your lungs coinciding with the release of pressure inside of you made your world momentarily go dark. All you could feel was the snug fit of his cock—and the way your walls fluttered around it—and his teeth against your lip. You could faintly feel softer hands on your face, and a choked moan left your lips his hips continued to connect with yours.

His hand tightened again just as your vision started to return to you, and the smile you were met with was chilling. So turned on by watching you straddle death, the fearsome fighter came too but much more violently. He practically growled above you, the noise so animalistic and inhumane sounding. Your neck almost cracked beneath the force of his hand, and the overstimulation from the feel of his cock made you want to clench your thighs together.

You were struggling to breathe when he stilled, chest burning, and when he roughly let you go—pushing himself away from you—you gasped for air. You turned on your side, sweaty and bloody and feeling like you couldn’t breathe deep enough. A hand smoothed along the side of your face—a feminine hand—and when you looked up, the blue-eyed man was cleaning his blade with a crooked smile, terrifying teeth on display.

“I think I will keep this one.”

#feyd rautha #feyd-rautha harkonnen #feyd-rautha x reader #feyd rautha x reader #feyd-rautha #margot fenring #lady margot fenring #margot fenring x reader #dune fanfiction #dune imagine #feyd-rautha imagine #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #lea seydoux

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ozzgin · 11 months ago

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Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (III)

On your travels with the two demon companions, you stumble upon a fortified village plagued by monster attacks. It would be quite unlucky if the grand finale happened just as you step foot inside, right? Worry not, you're saved by a third mysterious yokai that you immediately recognize. The harem grows!

Content: female reader, monsters, violence

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guide]

“Alright, how’s this?”

You do a clumsy pirouette before the two yokai men.

“That’s...are you sure?” Kiritsubo eyes you, mildly confused. “It’s usually what men wear.”

Of course, you already know. After weeks of walking through feudal Japan, you’ve reached the conclusion that modern clothing isn’t the most practical choice. Not to mention the strange looks you always get from other people upon your arrival in any village. You needed something to blend in, and the typical fashion for your gender might not be compatible with your training. You’d rather not swing a sword while covered in multiple layers of kimono.

Thus, you opted for the hakama pants typically worn by men. With your hair tied up and in this baggy attire, one could think you’re a young samurai. If they squint enough. You chuckle at the thought.

“She’ll wear whatever allows her to not be a burden.” Murasaki concludes with crossed arms.

One way to put it, you tell yourself.

“If you’re done discussing fashion, we can leave.” The dark-haired man continues with indifference, standing up and adjusting the swords in the folds of his sash.

Both you and Kiritsubo hurry and follow behind obediently.

“Where are we going this time?” You ask sheepishly.

“South-west. An old residence of his, although we will have to pass through a fortified settlement first. We should reach it before sunset.”

It’s hard to imagine you’re the supposed savior in this equation. Murasaki has been leading you by the hand each step, carefully considering every detail on the map, and extensively planning your travels every evening. All this on top of your daily training. You’ve now mastered the basics with the katana he’s provided you, as well as some common prayers for exorcising small-class demons.

You glance at the daisho pair of swords under his belt. A long, thin blade, and a shorter backup version, both in elaborate matching scabbards meant to showcase the status and wealth of the samurai wearing them. In this case, meant to express his rank as the advisor and right hand of the famed onmyōji. You certainly don’t doubt Nakamaro’s decision to rely on Murasaki.

In comparison, Kiritsubo carries a nagamaki at his waist. A comically long blade in your opinion, used mostly to bring down horses during battle. Any regular sword would’ve been too small for him. Despite his imposing appearance, you’ve learned rather quickly just how different Kiritsubo is from the other yokai. He’s quite clumsy in combat, often anxious about making mistakes, terribly apologetic, and overall has a heart too kind for his own good. If there’s hesitation coming from his side, Murasaki immediately follows with his ruthless, ending blows. As a matter of fact, even you’ve had to do the occasional killing to spare the man of such choices.

The silver-haired demon notices your eyes on him and smiles, excited. He reminds you of a large dog. A horned, fanged dog of monstrous strength, nonetheless the innocence is there. And he does make a great travel companion.

“How much longer?” You grunt, looking up.

“Are you tired? I can carry you for the rest of the way-” Kiritsubo instantly offers but is interrupted by Murasaki’s barked orders.

“She can walk. Don’t spoil her.” He glares at you, then nods ahead. “We’re almost there, so quit your whining.”

True to his word, you can finally discern the outline of a wall at the top of the hill. A few more steps, and you can even spot two guards standing beside the great gate.

“Stop there!”

The soldiers lift their spears threateningly. Before you can react, Murasaki steps in front of you with a hand placed on his sword.

“We’re just passing through.” He states factually.

“We’re no longer allowing visitors.” One of the guards exclaims. “The village has been raided by monsters recently and our Lord has closed all gates until the matter is solved.”

“That means no filthy demons go in.” The other adds in a mocking tone, his gaze lingering on the horns of your companions. His mouth curls in disgust.

You can tell Murasaki is angered by the disrespectful approach. He is not one to let such insults slide and you’d rather avoid him claiming unnecessary victims; therefore, you push past his arm and plant yourself ahead with a polite greeting bow.

“These yokai are with me. I vouch for their good behavior, so please consider letting us through. Perhaps we can even help you with these monsters.”

“You? How would you…”

The man stops abruptly, switching between you and the yokai. Eventually he inspects your scabbard, and he gasps, confusion twisting his features.

“Could it be? No…He’d be dead by now.”

“What are you talking about?” His partner inquires impatiently.

“That’s the family seal belonging to Abe no Nakamaro.” He explains, pointing to the golden finish at the end of your katana handle. “I’ve heard about him from my grandparents. But it’s been decades!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re saying this kid is a legendary onmyōji?”

“Who else would show up with demons as servants? Everything matches. Perhaps his powers have finally reached immortality”, he concludes solemnly.

The men continue their argument, and you clear your throat, embarrassed. What the hell? You can’t possibly look that manly. Sure, you’ve been skipping the makeup, and the clothes aren’t exactly curve shaping, but to be mistaken for an old man is like a slap to the face.

You’re about to deny their claims, but Murasaki swiftly pinches the back of your neck, and you wince. He lowers himself to your ear and whispers:

“This will be to our advantage. Just go along with it.” “Fine!” You mumble angrily. Then you turn back to the guards.

“V-very well, I see I haven’t been forgotten.” You admit, theatrically. “Lead me to your Lord and we shall discuss the details of your monster attack.”

Thus, you sip on your tea, kneeling at the luxurious table and awaiting the arrival of the feudal Lord. The servants are exchanging words, gossiping fervently next to the wall. “I wonder if he can cure my daughter!” one woman mumbles, visibly emotional.

“Do you think we can finally be saved? He’ll truly exorcise the beasts tormenting our village?” another whispers.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead and glare at Murasaki. You had no idea he’d given you Nakamaro’s old sword. Now you’re stuck pretending to be a pompous, long-dead asshat.

“What if they catch us?” You hiss between your teeth. “I don’t know shit about onmyōdō.”

“Then I’ll just kill them all. Simple as that.” The crimson-eyed man retorts, unconcerned. “Have a little fun, won’t you?”

“W-we’ll help you come up with answers, (Y/N). Don’t worry.” Kiritsubo chimes in, trying to reassure you.

You sigh in frustration and look out the window. The sun must’ve set a long time ago and has since been replaced by a pitch-black sky. What’s keeping the Lord? Surely, he can’t be having important business meetings late at night.

Almost as if your thoughts were read, the door slides open and a servant wobbles in. The rest of the household workers are silent, expecting the entrance of their master, but no one is following behind. You observe the bizarre limp of the woman. Suddenly, she collapses to the floor, revealing her bloodied back torn by deep wounds, caused by some sort of claw. Her body is stiff.

Panic settles in right away, and the servants topple over each other to get away from the fresh cadaver. You struggle to get up among the terrified crowd, but thankfully Murasaki grabs your wrist and pulls you out into a quieter hallway.

“What the hell?” is all you manage to say.

“Rotten.” Kiritsubo furrows his brows, sniffing the air. “Someone in here must be possessed. Could be more of them.”

Murasaki surveys the surroundings and gestures towards his partner.

“We have to see if the Lord is still alive. You go that way. I’ll take the front. Kill everyone suspicious.”

“What about me?” You demand, holding your breath.

“Get out and wait for us. You know how to draw a protection circle, don’t you? I won’t take long.” The dark-haired yokai answers before vanishing.

Judging by the screams and wails coming from all directions, you suspect Kiritsubo is right about multiple attackers. You sprint across the hall, looking for an opening. The self-defense lessons didn’t cover cursed humans with demonic powers. You’ll stay out of this one.

What an absolute mess. You have encountered some demons in your weeks spent here, but nothing to this degree. When the guards mentioned a monster attack, you imagined a ghost with a grudge, or some small fry yokai scaring the workers at night, not a mass curse that ends in a massacre. Of course, it had to happen the moment you arrived at the main house.

You find a room with a door leading to the inner courtyard. Seems isolated enough and it should provide a bit of shelter while you wait for the pair to finish the business. As you rush past the dead bodies, you notice a woman hiding behind a screen divider.

“Ah! It’s you!” she yells, aware of your presence.

From the shadow of her secret spot emerges the small frame of a child. The woman pushes the little human towards you, blocking your path.

“Don’t worry, he’ll protect us.” she gives her child another nudge. “Go on, hold onto him. You’ll be safe.”

What? No, no, no, no, no. Not happening. You’re getting out.

“Ma’am, sorry to break it to you under such circumstances, but I’m not-”

You’re interrupted by a loud growl. One of the possessed creatures must’ve followed your scent, and it’s now sliding into the room on all fours with the bones of the limbs twisting and creaking in unnatural pounces. You purse your lips in a frightened grimace. One advantage of the wide hakama pants – useful to know – is that no one can see your knees shaking cowardly.

Theoretically, you could use the brat as bait and run for your life. It’d make a decent obstacle. Unfortunately for your life span, you’ve been gifted with an idiotic sense of duty instead of survival instincts.

“Keep your distance. If I can’t kill it, get out and don’t look back” you advise, positioning yourself in the learned stance and sliding the sword out of its sheath.

Damn it! Then again, it should be like fighting a zombie, right? Given the pathetic way it drags itself around, it can’t be too difficult to hit. Aim for the head, you repeat in your mind. Your fingers grip around the handle.

The ghoulish beast lowers itself, like a spring about to recoil, and leaps across the room with an ease you did not anticipate. Despite your iron hold, it slaps the blade out of your hands with enormous force. The impact breaks your skin, and you wince. There’s no time to weep, within seconds it could go for your vitals next. While Murasaki hasn’t gotten around to teaching you much hand-to-hand combat, you’ve read your fair share of shounen manga. The first idea that comes to mind is to put the beast in a sumo lock. You bend your knees smoothly and wrap your arms around the monster, feeling for something to hold onto. You grit your teeth and attempt to lift the creature.

A thundering laugh resonates within the walls, and you jolt, startled.

“I never thought I’d see the mighty Abe no Nakamaro wrestling with ankle biters like this. What are you going to do, throw it out of the ring?”

The voice is deep, loud, and unfamiliar. You can’t afford to look back to see the source, but it’s not hard to figure out the possibilities. So far, you’ve only been called by that cursed name by the yokai accomplices. Although now is not the best time to seek revenge.

“Shut up, I panicked”, you snap in frustration. “If you can’t help, keep that trap closed!”

The sudden burst of anger seems to have triggered something within your body, a power you don’t recognize. You watch as your arms effortlessly pick up the monster and swing it across the room, its body demolishing the opposing wall and causing thick clouds of dust to rise and spread everywhere.

The impact must’ve alerted the nearby ghouls, as you can now hear the agitated trample and screeching rapidly approaching. You’re not confident you can pull the same lucky move a second time.

You turn to search for your sword, but it’s already being handed to you by the mysterious yokai who’s been observing your little fight. You have to step aside and tilt your head all the way back in order to fully view the gigantic frame of the man.

Ah, you recognize the features immediately. The same kind of fear you felt when you stumbled upon that old shrine statue is now tugging at your chest.

“You’re Suma, right?”

A proud, wide grin forms on his face, revealing a pair of glistening fangs. His expression is unexpectedly soft and friendly.

“We’re halfway through our introductions then, eh?” You pick up the sword and his fingers stretch out for a handshake. “What is your given name? I’m guessing you don’t willingly go by that…title.”

“I very much prefer (Y/N), yes.” You marvel at the significant difference in size, placing your small hand in his. “Was that your power I just used?”

“Mhhm. You sure surprised me there! It’s not something I did intentionally, but I s’ppose we just resonate that well, huh?”

He laughs again, completely unbothered by the impending danger.

“Alright, you can leave the rest to me. Take the lady outside, it will get a little messy.”

And with that, he casually walks towards the gathering of ghouls. You guide the family to the courtyard and wait for the battle to end.

“Do you think she’ll be fine by herself?” Kiritsubo is resting against the fence, keeping you under a watchful gaze.

“Let the humans sort it out among themselves.” Murasaki responds, somewhat bored.

The morning after the attack, you offered to deal with the survivors: ask them how everything started, if they’d noticed anything suspicious days prior to the event, and if the route to Nakamaro’s old residence was still open. The yokai men had found the feudal Lord in the jaws of a possessed creature and he quickly succumbed to his wounds. Consequently, only the remaining servants could provide them with clues.

A village being targeted like this is highly unusual, and Murasaki can’t shake the feeling it could be related to their master.

“Oh, where are you heading after this?” The silver-haired yokai glances at Suma, sitting lazily next to them.

“Where? After you just told me the whole story? I’m way too invested in this modern reincarnation that just popped out of nowhere, so I’m tagging along!” He announces with a chuckle.

Murasaki frowns.

“We don’t need your help.”

“Don’t be like that.” The giant man pouts dramatically. “Are you upset I saved (Y/N) before you?”

“W-we were on our way!” Kiritsubo retorts, visibly bothered.

“It’s a done deal!” Suma rests his hands under his head and yawns. “Besides, the little human already said he doesn’t mind.”

“He? (Y/N) is a woman.”

The redhead abruptly sits up and gasps.

“Wait, what?”

“Don’t get funny ideas, man”, the silver-haired demon warns.

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abbyfmc · 5 months ago

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Yandere Story Idea #16:

Yandere Yandere (Fatherly) Emperor and Empress (Maternal) x Daughter! Reader:

Think about it.

I imagine that after a long line of princes, the yandere empress finally has a princess, and both parents are delighted with her, since she was the first daughter after many years of trying. Your father, the emperor, agrees that you be raised under the care of the empress (your mother).

From the moment you were born, you were never left alone for a single minute. When the Empress wasn't with you, the Emperor himself was. Your mother always made you follow her everywhere she went, as well as sharing her tastes and hobbies, since having only had princes prevented her from doing that. You had a close mother-daughter relationship, and with your father it was something more or less similar.

As you grow up, your parents become more overprotective of you, so much so that they even limit your contact with your older brothers, the princes. Not only would they give you nice gifts, but the best teachers, doctors and servants would be at your disposal (even better than those of your older brothers), although your brothers would probably be jealous of you.

They wouldn't let you walk alone for even a second.

If your father has a harem of consorts and concubines (like other emperors), then the empress will be more paranoid about you, since even though princesses do not inherit the throne, she knows that her enemies can harm you.

Once, when you were five years old, a maid broke a porcelain doll that your father had given you after returning from one of his trips. Unfortunately for that maid, the emperor was returning with you just when the doll broke, so he saw it and got SO angry that he asked his butler to take you out to the garden for a walk, so that you wouldn't see your father the emperor whip the poor maid to death. All this because he considered that maid to be reckless in daring to do that to your things, even if it had been an accident.

Even if more princesses were born, you were the object of your parents' overprotection and adoration.

Even your older brothers didn't dare to do anything bad to you. Once a new maid spoke ill of you (even though you hadn't done anything), and the empress herself slapped her in the face.

They hired servants who document your EVERY move.

The Emperor adores you so much that he will delay any kind of engagement or marriage alliance. He will reject any proposal, and silence anyone who mentions the subject. He does not want you away from him.

If it were up to them, you would stay locked in your room all the time so that nothing would hurt you, and they would tell you that they do everything for your own good.

You were punished by being locked up for an indefinite period of time, followed by the classic punishment of writing the same sentence repeatedly for a long time.

No trying to escape from the palace. The emperor would have experienced guards and servants around you to prevent that.

And if you do get married, then your parents will make sure that you have no choice but to live near the palace, no matter what.

They would be capable of killing if something happens to you.

If you fall ill, they will make sure you rest and eat well, even if it is against your will. If you were to die, they would both go mad with grief, especially the empress.

If you were to die, they would use your chambers as a sanctuary to you, where they would go to pray for you, and in the process force EVERYONE to mourn you.

Your emperor father would not let you have any contact with his family, as there is a power struggle going on where even his own brothers, cousins and uncles could be his enemies and would do ANYTHING to get the throne; even if that includes kidnapping or killing you just because you are the emperor's daughter. Your mother would know this, and every time her brothers-in-law come, she will make you stay with her in the central palace.

With the Empress's family it's a different story, since there are no problems of inheritance of the throne, things are easier unless there is someone who tries to hurt you or pressure you like they do with your mother.

-The End.

What do you think?

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borathae · 4 months ago

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↳ Index [Day 13 - Alien Sex]

Pairing: Human!Jimin x Alien Queen!Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Sci-Fi!AU, Reverse Harem!AU

Kinks: free use kink, mention of anal experimentation, douching kink, public sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, alien sex magic which changes his cock to a pussy, he still has a prostate though, double penetration of his pussy & ass, tentacle sex, her tentacles produce their own lube, she can also change her pussy to a cock & uses it to lay eggs in his ass, wet & sloppy scissoring, lots of kissing, praise kink, he wants to be called a good boy but also a good girl and a good whore, multiple orgasms, breeding, bondage with her tentacles, subby boy tears, orgasming to the point of squirting, giggly aftercare, ps: he got kidnapped from earth and then forced to marry her but he likes it so idk kidnapping kink?

Wordcount: 4.7k

a/n: this is for you, Alien Queen JFADJFJ I hope this is what you imagined. it is honestly so unhinged like damn. also, happy birthday jimin <3

“You called for me, my Queen?”

“I did. Sit.”

Jimin obeys your orders, sitting down on the spot you point at. At the edge of your big circular bed. He fixes his thin rope by tugging on its folds, shifting on the silken sheets nervously.

Silk is an expensive fabric on your planet and isn’t made the same way than it is on Earth. On Vulvaria, so called silk spinner are paid a handsome wage to spin their hair into the fabric. The hair of a silk spinner grows twenty feet per year and is therefore perfect for creating the luxurious and soft fabric.

You solely wear silken ropes and order all your husbands to wear the fabric as well. Jimin, the husband you called to you tonight, was ordered to wear an especially thinly woven model of the fabric. His dark nipples shine through the fabric, as does his well groomed, dark bush.

You wear a long wrap skirt and no shirt, only using pearls from Vulvaria’s oceans to cover your breasts. Jimin thinks that they look especially beautiful against your turquoise skin.

The skirt dances on the floor as you strut to the bedroom door. You talk to him.

“Have they informed you why I have called you here tonight?”

“They said that your desires started.”

“They have.” You lock the bedroom door. “Did they ask for your consent before bringing you here? I know my guards can be rather forceful sometimes.”

“They didn’t need to ask, I followed willingly.”

You look over your shoulder. Your hair is a beautiful dark blue, harmonizing perfectly with your skin tone and your glowing blue eyes.

“You did?”

Jimin nods his head, gulping nervously when you turn to him. You walk back to him, swaying your hips.

Jimin doesn’t look like you do. His skin isn’t naturally turquoise nor is his hair naturally blue, his eyes also don’t naturally glow. Jimin isn’t from here. Long ago he lived on Earth before scientists of your planet kidnapped him for their experiments. Jimin didn’t really have a life on earth, he was a loner and had no hobbies or ambitions, so he didn’t particularly care when he was kidnapped by aliens. They implanted a chip in his brain first, which allowed him to learn their language instantly and to live longer. After they explained their situation and their plans for him, the experiments began. The experiments they did on him as they journeyed back to Vulvaria were strange and scary at first, but soon Jimin began to look forward to them. Vulvarian scientists value comfort and honour their experimental pets. Call him crazy, but Jimin began to truly like all the anal probing which was done to him and he was rather sad when the long journey to Vulvaria came to an end.

So when he was brought before you as your newest treasure and was told that he was to marry you, Jimin welcomed it with open arms and an even more open hole. He welcomed the wedding night, welcomed the public sex and welcomed the free attitude the Vulvarians had around sex. Free Use, as the humans would call it, was a daily and normal practice between consenting adults. Of course such acts were never held in the presence of children. The Vulvarians deeply honoured the innocence of children and any who dared to break the sacred law of honouring it, were cast into outer space. But in places where no children were present, things like Free Use and public sex was common and normalised.

It was also normal for the queen to take more than one husband – or wife if she so wishes – under the condition that she care for each of them properly.

Jimin was one of seven husbands. He was the third to last to join your marital bed and he was one of two humans. The other, Namjoon, was your second husband and has lived with you long enough to have earned his Vulvarian tattoos. The others were once residence of other planets, except for Seokjin and Jungkook, the first and the newest husband, who are born and raised Vulvarians who had the honour of marrying their queen.

Jimin likes all of his fellow husbands and he very often finds himself engaged in sex with them. They are each very delightful company to have.

Tonight however, it seems that the only company he gets is you, his Queen and wife and beloved love.

“You never cease to amaze me. It feels like yesterday when Yanoshnik reported to me how eagerly you took your daily anal examinations and you haven’t been able to be satisfied ever since”, your voice carries a hint of teasing as you remind him of his insatiable hunger.

Yanoshnik was the lead scientist on the ship which brought Jimin to Vulvaria. Jimin still thinks back to her fondly. She knew just what to do.

“I sometimes think that I was put on earth just so you can kidnap me one day and introduce me to this life.”

You chuckle, “this pleases me to hear.”

“I’m so entirely grateful for you, my queen.”

“Please, drop the formalities. It’s just you and I tonight.”

Jimin flutters his lashes, heart racing in his chest. You place your fingers under his chin, tilting his head so you could inspect his face.

“Have they told you what I expect of you tonight?”

“I was brought to Annatar to be prepared, but haven’t been given any details.”

You offer your very own sex preparation spa where people can come and get ready for sex. Jimin was prepared in the anal douching wing of the spa where only the most gentle of preparation mistresses handled him. Sometimes - and keep such knowledge a secret - Jimin goes to this spa with the lie of needing preparation, when in reality he misses the experimental and scientific ways the Vulvarians handle anal preparations. To be strapped into a comfortable chair and have a slickened hose inserted inside him only to have his stomach slowly filled with warm water while someone massaged it gently was true heaven for Jimin. And once he had to empty himself and he heard the preparation mistresses clap for him, it very often brings him close to orgasming. Jimin really enjoyed tonight’s stay in the preparation spa even if they kept your plans secret.

“So they didn’t tell you anything?”

“No. Just that my insides needed to be cleaned properly.”

“Tch”, you click your tongue, “what tactless servants I have. You were supposed to be told to during your preparations. Fine then, I shall do it.”

Jimin nods his head, holding his breath in anticipation.

“I desire to turn your cock into a cunt and then scissor with you. And as we grind our cunts together, I will penetrate your holes with my tentacles. Perhaps if I feel like it, I will lay a slime egg in you. I expect of you to carry it until it is dissolved and your body absorbed my nectar.”

“Yes, my queen. Please do”, Jimin croaks, cock throbbing behind the fabric of his dress.

You cradle his cheek, eyes soft in fondness.

“I expected nothing less of you, my darling Jimin.”

He smiles, eyes glassy in emotion. He loves being your darling. It is his only purpose in life.

“Very well then. Do you have any questions before we start? I gather you haven’t had your cock changed before?”

“I haven’t, no. Will it hurt?”

“Have any of our procedures ever hurt you, darling Jimin?”

“No”, he flusters, “no, I guess not. Oh god, I’m such a whore.”

You chuckle, now busy with preparing the cock changing spray.

“You must introduce me to this God you always mention.”

“It’s just a saying. I guess like you say My Arn, we say my god.”

“I see. Humans are so fascinating.” You turn back to him with the spray in your hand. “Undress and stand up.”

Jimin obeys gladly, cock hard and throbbing. You inspect it and smile.

“What a shame to change such a hard cock, but it will be worth it. Now watch and revel in it.”

You put seven decent sprays of the warm liquid on his cock. It tingles and tickles, forming pink smoke thick enough that he can’t see anything.

“Ah, oh”, he gasps, knees buckling and hand instinctively reaching for you. You hold it tightly, caressing his knuckles.

“Hush now, I know it feels very ticklish. But it isn’t terrible, is it?” you speak to him in a caring voice.

“No, it feels good.”

“Of course it does. My milk is one of the ingredients, which is the key component in allowing species other than Vulvarians to change their genitals.”

“Have the others experienced this before?”

“Not everyone. Seokjin and Jungkook obviously haven’t.”

“Because they’re Vulvarians and can change their genitals naturally."

“Exactly. What a clever thing you are.”

“So everyone else has?”

“Yes, everyone except Taehyung. He is very nervous about it. I haven’t warmed him up to the idea quite yet.”

“I see. I’m sure that he’ll come around. He is a softie, he just needs a little more coddling.”

You chuckle fondly, “that’s true. What a sweet darling he is. Now look darling Jimin, look at your beautiful cunt.”

Jimin looks down and gasps. The area where normally his cock protrudes and bulges is flat. Only his dark bush is there.

“Oh my god”, he gasps, reaching down, “my cock is gone. ___, it is actually gone.”

You laugh, eyes spilling over with fondness. He also glows so prettily when he gets excited.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, but it feels strange. Like something is missing.”

“Lie down and spread your legs. Prop yourself up on your elbows.”

Jimin obeys your orders a little confused but eager. You walk to the dresser to get a mirror, then hurry back to him, placing yourself right in front of him. You flip the mirror, using a glowing crystal to shine light onto his presented cunt.

Jimin moans, cunt throbbing as he sees himself for the first time. His dark pubes form such a beautiful contrast to the rosy, flushed skin of his folds. Said folds are swollen already, giving view to his empty vagina and his engorged clit at the top. Just under his vagina and covered in his juices, his asshole was waiting to be stuffed. He knows the female anatomy, because Vulvarians have the same genital anatomy as humans except that their skin is blue and purple, so Jimin knows what a cunt looks like. And yet he feels as if he sees pussy for the very first time tonight and it turns him on so much that it aches not to be stuffed.

“Fuck me, please”, Jimin begs, rolling his hips up desperately.

“So you like yourself?”

“Yes, so much. I’m so pretty.”

“You are. The prettiest ever with the prettiest cunt.”

Jimin whimpers, twisting the sheets.

“Please fuck me please. I’m an empty whore.”

“What’s a whore?”

“It’s what humans call someone who has too much sex. It’s mostly used for women to shame them for having sex.”

“And men aren’t called as such?”

“They’re not shamed for having too much sex, so no.”

“You humans are strange creatures. Why would a woman need to feel shame for having sex? Isn’t She who brings new life into the world? She who nurtures and creates and shapes nothing into a full human? Why shame Her but celebrate him for the same thing?”

“I never understood it.”

“What strange creatures. Our Vulvarian men would never think to feel in such ways. Doesn’t matter. Tonight, my darling Jimin, I shall show you how wonderful it is to have a cunt.”

Jimin writhes and whines, cunt throbbing in anticipation.

“Scoot further up the bed.”

Jimin obeys gladly, parting his legs as widely as possible.

“What a good boy. Is it okay for me to call you as such or does your cunt change your feelings?”

“You can call me a good boy or good girl or just a good whore. Everything is nice.”

You chuckle, “a good whore. I see. Shame and praise at the same time. What a good whore you are.”

Jimin drips with new excitement, feeling like crying.

“Please fuck me, please.”

“And how eager you are. Put your left leg down flat on the sheets.”

He obeys.

“Very good.”

You open the wrap skirt, throwing the fabric to the side. Your sweet cunt is finally revealed to him. Your well groomed, blue pubes look delicious against your flushed cunt. When Vulvarians flush, their skin becomes purple. Jimin thinks that you have the most beautiful purple cunt.

“Stay like this and don’t worry about lasting long. You will orgasm countless times tonight, it is expected. Just enjoy yourself and try to breathe whenever it gets too much.”

“Yes my que-aah! Holy fuck ah!” Jimin screams, dropping in the sheets and arching his back. You connected your pussy with his own and began rubbing your clit against his’. Your cunt is so wet in your slick, your folds are warm and swollen and your clit is hard and erect. Each time you grind back and forth, your kissing pussies make the wettest sound. Sticky and lubey and so incredibly sinful. It truly is as if one could listen to your cunts making out.

Jimin growls, tensing his jaw and huffing out air.

“Does it feel good for you?” you ask, staring at his face obsessively. His cunt is so soft and so insanely wet. You are drinking up the sensations greedily. This is exactly what you needed in your state.

“Yes, so good aaah”, Jimin mewls, tilting his head back as far as possible. His dark hair spreads messily on the white sheets, his throat looks so pretty when it is as exposed as it is.

“That’s good to hear. You have such a soft cunt. So pretty and wet.”

Jimin mewls and whines, feeling dizzy.

Desires, so your state is called, is when your body desires sexual pleasure to the point your other senses almost shut off. You explained to him that it is similar to what animals experience as heat except that the purpose of this state is not recreation but pure fun.

Jimin witnessed a similar state in Seokjin and Jungkook before and he helped you before, so tonight isn’t new to him. He enjoys the passionate sex you and he have and how it always leaves him disoriented afterwards.

Right now, he feels the first orgasm of the night approach so rapidly that all he can do is whimper your name and then it is already here. He shakes and trembles, helplessly squeaking your name because he never experienced such a sensation before. Orgasms with his cock are quick and explosive but this feels deep and it drags out to the point where Jimin twists the sheets against his will.

“That’s it darling, that’s it”, you talk him through it, sharing his state in a more composed way than he does. One orgasm almost leaves you blind to it. In your state, it feels miniscule and small. The true pleasure is the act itself, not the orgasms which are a result of it. You can go over and over again and not be affected by it. Very often it is to the detriment of your poor husbands, who have to shake through their countless orgasms until you are satisfied.

“It’s a lot, it’s a lot”, Jimin begs, now writhing in a kind of overstimulation he hasn’t experienced before. When you overstimulate his cock, it aches and Jimin can’t handle it. But this is addictive. It doesn’t hurt, it just feels like too much. The kind of much Jimin needs more of, but truly can’t handle because it is so new. “Please too much, please.”

“Breathe darling, breathe through it.”

“No, please just one second please.”

You listen to his weak pleas, lifting your hips for now. You lay yourself over him, running your fingers through his hair and shushing him softly.

“You’re doing so well. Is it too much?”

“Yes too much ah”, Jimin sighs, chasing your tender touch.

You lean down and kiss his forehead. He melts, body finally calming down. It feels so good to be pampered with your loving kisses.

“Good boy. I’m so proud of you”, you whisper, kissing a path down the slope of his pretty nose. “What a good boy you are. I’m so proud.”

And as you worship his beautiful face, you allow your tentacles to grow. Vulvarians are built like humans, but have the ability to grow tentacles if they desire to do so. These tentacles match the colour of the Vulvarian’s skin and have the ability to produce a liquid with a lube-like consistency. Which is, if one asks a Vulvarian, a rather beneficial feat to have as it allows for these tentacles to be used in all of the sexual adventures they enjoy to engage in. They are also very sensitive to sexual stimulation so it is beyond pleasurable to fuck each other with them.

Tonight, you crave nothing more than to have your slickened tentacles fucked by his holes. You know that he doesn’t need preparation to have his ass fucked. Jimin is the husband with the most lose hole ever. If it wasn’t for the need to clean up, he could be penetrated whenever and it wouldn’t hurt.

Which is why you asked for him tonight. You need quick relief and need someone who can take you as quickly as possible. Oh, how starved you are for him.

You connect two of your tentacles with him. One you rub through his puffy folds and the other you use to trace his loose rim. He is so soft and warm, leaking so perfectly.

Jimin gasps and tenses up, glassy eyes locking with yours.

“My good whore”, you whisper, face softened in adoration and fingers playing with his silky hair, “does this feel good to you?”

“Yes”, he whimpers.

“You know what I want to do to you?”

“Yes, please fuck me”, he begs, nodding his head vigorously. His hips twitch into your touches, body aching in need. “Please ___, I can’t take it anymore, please fuck me.”

“Take a deep breath for me.”

Jimin obeys, eyes so cutely submissive.

“And breathe out.”

Jimin obeys, but struggles soon when you use his obedience to fill his holes at the same time. Pressure and slight burning and the sudden unbearable sensation of being full is a lot to handle for him. He stops breathing, making little sounds instead.

“Too much?”

He nods his head.

“I’ll pull out.”

“No.”

You stop.

“No, please.” He spills tears. “Please don’t stop.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please.”

“Fuck, I’m obsessed with you”, you get out, claiming his pillowy lips in a hungry kiss. You push your tentacles deeper into him, swallowing his overwhelmed sounds as you force him to his luck. He begged for it and you are so happy to oblige.

You gave Jimin an especially sensitive cunt, inside and out. You made sure that the formula would give him a sensitive g spot and an even more sensitive cervix. You currently poke at the latter with the tip of your tentacle, covering it in your addictive slime as you give him sensations he has never felt before. You even use your sucker to make out with it, sending constant fire through his veins.

He sounds so helpless and overwhelmed, barely managing to kiss you back. So you break it, but stay close. His pillowy lips brush against yours as he sobs and gasps.

“How does it feel?”

Jimin gives you his answer in a sob and his arms hooking behind your head to kiss you. You let him, smiling and purring as he basically licks into your mouth needily. He drools and sniffles, sobs and gasps. This is exactly what you needed. To have him ruined beneath you, to turn him into your desperate toy.

You growl into the kiss, slithering your tentacles deeper into him. You make sure to move them constantly in wiggles and writhes, pumping them in and out of him deep and passionate. His noises are your motivation, his trembling body the reason you do this.

“Take me, what a good whore, take me”, you say into the kiss, giving him no time to answer you as you swallow his words in a sloppy tongue kiss.

Jimin writhes, trying to flee you as much as he wants to be closer to you. But you can’t allow his wiggles. You wrap your strong tentacles around each of his ankles and wrists, pinning him down into the sheets as you abuse his holes in the most pleasurable of ways.

You slip another tentacle to his clit and begin rubbing it, finally engaging the one in his ass too. You made sure that the spray wouldn’t remove his prostate. When you want him ruined, you want him to truly be ruined. You know how sensitive Jimin’s prostate is so it is expected of him to break the kiss only to scream and arch off the sheets. His legs and arms fight his restraints, forcing you to tighten around him and warn him with an animalistic growl.

“Too much, I- CUM! AH!”

“That’s it. Good boy, cum for me. Such a good whore”, you encourage him, speeding up your tentacles. His holes are so tight, stimulating you perfectly. You can’t stop leaking into him, pounding him, practically ripping him open with your slickened tentacles. The one in his ass is so far inside him, stimulating him in places he hasn’t been fucked in for so long.

Jimin sobs miserably, wiggling his arms in his restraints to the point you let loose around him just enough to see what he will do. He sobs and rubs his own hands over his face in a weak attempt to handle what you give him. He can’t talk nor kiss. Everything feels so good. His ass, his insides, his pussy, his clit. The pleasure is intense and never ending. It feels so good to have a pussy. It feels so good.

He was fucked by your tentacles before. He was scared at first. They were so alive in him. The lube you produce allows his skin to become sensitive to touch, which means that he could feel every inch of his insides get explored. Tentacles are alive, they wiggle and move and are restless. Jimin cried so much the first time you fucked him senseless on your tentacles and it seems that he will be the same tonight.

His ass is so stretched out. Your tentacles become thicker with length and right now, you have a good three feet inside him, stretching his rim to its limits. You are so alive inside his stomach and tonight you are alive above his insides as well. Not as deep but so intense. It is like you have settled in him and you want to come bursting out of his stomach.

“I can’t stop cumming”, he coughs out, having to orgasm again. It doesn’t lose intensity. On the contrary, Jimin fears for his vocal chords if you have him screaming any harder.

“Good girl, yes give me everything, good boy, I’m so proud of you, my good whore”, encourage him in a hungry growl, helping him through it with vigorous wiggles of your tentacles and hungry kisses with your suckers.

Jimin screams even louder than before, twisting his own hair. You know what it means. You are making him squirt. You press down on his g-spot, cervix and prostate at the same time, forcing his orgasm to be so much more intense than it needs to be. You even press your hand to his bulging stomach to make sure that he gives you every single droplet of his sweet liquid.

Jimin can’t scream anymore as it happens to him. He only lies there, head thrown back, neck tense and mouth agape as his voice refuses to come out. He tugs on the sheets, back arched and cunt squirting clear liquid everywhere. His holes are so tight that it throws you over the edge as well. You growl this time around, back arching and toes curling as your restless tentacles tremble in ecstasy.

“Please no more please”, he begs, body twitching in helplessness.

“Mhhm good whore”, you praise, pulling out your tentacles. They are weakened from their orgasm, hanging beside you weakly. They are still leaking, ruining the sheets even more. The ones around his wrists and ankles are still strong however, pulling his legs apart and pushing his arms above his head. You bend his legs by his knees, forcing them to press into the sheets beside his body.

Jimin sobs. His holes are so loose. They are leaking so much of your cream. It hurts but he likes it. He was used so well, he was ruined so well, he was nothing but a whore for you and he loves it.

Suddenly he feels something inside his ass again. He forces his heavy eyes to open, throat producing a weak sound. You are looking down at him, crazy and hungry. Judging by the pulsing deep inside him, you are filling him again. It isn’t as alive as your tentacles were. Instead it is hard and girthy.

Jimin sobs your name weakly, writhing in agony. He can’t handle much more.

“I’m almost done, I promise. Just let me make you mine” you rasp, rolling your hips into him to fuck your newly grown cock deep into his loose walls.

Jimon spills tears, mouthing your name.

“You’re mine, that’s right. Mhhhhm fuck, it’s happening”, you purr, eyes rollling back and body shivering as you find your last release inside him.

Jimin can count each egg you lay in him. Five of them. He can feel them travel through your cock and can feel them shoot into him and lodge themselves between his walls. They definitely feel like intruders and like something claiming him, but he likes it. He loves everything you could ever do to him. His purpose is to carry whatever you put inside him. And if it is five huge eggs then it is an honor to do so.

“Fuck, Jimin”, you croak, pulling your flaccid cock out of him. You fall on top of him, and wrap your arms around him so you could pull him with you as you collapse into the sheets.

His face naturally nuzzles into your chest, he clasps you as he feels the effect of your orgasm set it. When a Vulvarian orgasms inside someone with the purpose of laying eggs in them, the semen they eject with it has the ability to force the muscles of the bred hole to tense up. Like this, it allows for the eggs to get their desired incubation time without accidentally slipping out prematurely. Tonight it is very difficult to handle the clenching of his muscles.

He groans and presses his hand to his stomach. The eggs are so visible to his palm, making his stomach bulge.

“Are you in pain?”

“A little. I was so loose and now I’m not.”

You roll him to his back, placing your warm hands on his stomach to rub it gently. You lean down, kissing his tummy as you massage it.

“Breathe through it. Just as you have been doing so perfectly.”

Jimin obeys you and like this, he overcomes the worst part of the incubation phase. Deep warmth and a feeling of euphoria follows.

He giggles and wiggles. You giggle with him , kissing a path up his chest until you can taste his smile in a kiss. You let your hand slip between his legs to play with his leaking cunt mindlessly.

It feels so nice to him. Warm and good but not too pleasurable to the point where he gets riled up again. It is comforting in a sense.

“How was it for you?” you ask him, gazing at his flushed face.

“Good”, he giggles, “so good.”

“Yes? It was perfect for me. You took me so well. All of me.”

Jimin giggles, eyes crinkling into the prettiest of crescent moons.

“I’m happy.”

“Good, that’s good.”

“Oh god, I’m so happy”, he giggles and hides his eyes behind his hand, “thank you for this. I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

“You’re the sweetest. Come here you, I need to eat your cute face”, you say and make him laugh by playfully nibbling on his puffy cheeks.

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cupids-chamber · 10 months ago

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— THE CONCUBINE GAME !! | chapter one . . . The first chapter, where you'll be able to catch a climpse of the inner dynamics between the emperor's y/n's secretary and their personal guard, a small entry and brief taste of what's to come, while learning a bit more about our beloved emperor and their staff . . .

— Themes ; Harem / historical au , Twisted wonderland , multiple characters x reader , royalty au , includes rsa + yuuka/yuuken. ♡

The wind was howling, the pitter patter sound of rain could be heard throughout the grand walls of the palace. The sound of heels clicking urgently on the wooden floors, echoing through the empty halls, as Yuuken rushed his way through to the emperor's chambers. It was late, yet he��d been overworked all week preparing the palace for the arrival of certain selected members of the Royal Harem, some were particularly demanding with the way they wanted things sorted out and Yuuken prided himself on never failing to impress.

He banged on the door rather aggressively, “Your majesty, I have certain design plans I need you to finalize before Prince Leona’s arrival, and the first few concubines enter the palace, we don’t have much time!”, he yelled out trying to get the emperor’s attention, it was already late into the night and the palace staff were working overtime meeting every demand that they were given.

Yuuken flinched feeling something touch his shoulder, and right before he could move back and attack, he heard an all too familiar voice—”Don’t bother trying to get their attention, Y/n’s at a meeting”—Yuuka spoke, a small grin on her face while she watched Yuuken try and collect himself, “This late?”, he asked confused, “also please try and address them by proper titles in public”; Yuuka shrugged in response, pausing for a moment before she spoke up once more, “I’d like to keep things the way it is, and you should probably take a break because they’re not coming out of the room at all, it’s something about politics . . . I wasn’t really paying attention”.

Yuuken sighed, slumping his shoulders as he leaned onto the door of the Emperor's chamber, “I-i . . just want everything to be perfect, everything’s been so . . hectic for their majes—y/n and I just really want to provide some stability, you know?”, he said softly, letting his exhaustion take over for a moment and Yuuka’s expression softened, “Hey—you’re doing great, there's a reason y/n gave you full creative liberty”, she ruffled his hair giving him a genuine smile, “don’t push yourself too hard alright? None of us are expecting you to be perfect, not even y/n . .” she finished, as Yuuken closed his eyes and whispered a small, “I know . . .”

Setting: Meeting room Location: The west wing. Time: 11:36pm

You fiddle with your fingers, trying to shift the jewelry that you were covered in, in an attempt to feel more comfortable with the weight that the jewels provided, holding you down . . , as another argument ensues between the nobles, these past few days have felt like a choir, in fact most of the months since you ascended have felt terrible, nothings been exciting—from inheriting an empire doomed to fail, to trying to pick up the scraps of what was left of your fathers reckless decisions and fixing it into something at least palatable, the pressure of everything has left you in a bottomless pit, you needed freedom a refreshing start—something you lost—when you inherited the throne . . .

“—Ah, your majesty?”, one of the nobles spoke up, and you bit your lip, how you hated that title, the moment you inherited this role, your friendships haven’t quite been the same, everyone who you’ve trusted in the past, have now become just another subject, trust is no longer something you earn, as loyalty and trust is to be expected when the crown is on your head.

Setting: Inner Cold Palace Garden Location: Rundown Gazebo Time: 12:46am

"—and they never thanked me'', Yuuken hiccuped out, words slurring due to his alcohol intake, he waved the half finished bottle of some form of expensive imported wine in his hands, swinging it around dramatically; Yuuka chuckled, taking a sip from her glass as she looked around at the scenery of the garden—it used to be much prettier and well taken care of, way back before the previous emperor—y/n’s father—went haywire. . .

"Hey Yuuken, remember when we used to play together here?" she asked without thinking, meeting his eyes for a brief moment all the while Yuuken took another big gulp from his wine bottle . . and then he spoke, "Yeah—you and y/n pushed me into the lake, I still hate the water", he slurred over his words slightly and Yuuka chuckled in response, if only things could've stayed as simple, but now Y/n didn't even have the time to maintain the garden where they're friendship once first blossomed, Yuuka sighed, leaning her head down on the table—which had seen better days— . . the same could be said about their relationship with y/n themselves . .

Masterlist | Introductions (being reworked) | Next chapter

♡. Synposis ; After many months of persuading, the emperor, Y/N L/N had finally agreed to take in a select few concubines and consorts—not an official partner.. but concubines. This caused an uproar in court; however the emperor promised to choose an official partner; amongst the crowd of concubines and consorts.. Who will the emperor choose?

— taglist ♡ (open) : . . tumblr is not letting me mention over 5 people per post, and the staff won't do anything about it, so I recommend just joining my server and picking out the new chapter ping role as it makes things easier for me.

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doctorbitchcrxft · 6 months ago

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What Is and What Never Should Be | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: Dean's an alcoholic dick, coping with trauma from a sexual assault, mentions of parental abuse, mentions of suicide but like not really cause it’s in a dream, canon violence, canon gore (take care of yourselves, as always. Love you guys.)

Word Count: 5281

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

About two weeks had passed since you’d left Deacon’s prison. You were convinced it was the hardest two weeks of your life. You couldn’t quite decide if you wanted Dean hugging you all the time, or if you never wanted anyone to touch you again. It felt like every time you looked in the mirror, you were in that disheveled prison guard outfit again, tears streaming down your face with fresh scrapes trailing down your arm. You felt like you were never going to leave the prison’s parking lot.

It definitely didn’t help that you were also having to deal with being fugitives simultaneously. Sam and Dean were waiting for you back at the motel. You put the two of them on a strict lockdown given their mugshots would be everywhere, and the feds hadn’t seemed to find a clear enough image of you to post yours. You drove the Impala around the area of your newest hunt searching for a potential location the victims could have been brought to while the boys researched back in their motel room.

You knew Dean could tell you were pulling away from him, and you knew it was hurting him. You didn’t want to, but you couldn’t let him in right now. You didn’t want to burden him with your problems given Sam was supposed to be the main concern right now and evading federal agents was a huge priority. You needed to deal with your issues in silence in order to keep yourself from completely breaking down in front of the boys and pulling focus away from what you believed were more pressing issues.

Your phone rang and broke you out of your thoughts. It was Sam’s number. “Hello?” you said into the phone.

“Hey. Got you on speaker,” he replied. “There’s a cop car outside.”

“You think it’s for us?” you questioned.

“I don't know.”

“I don't see how,” Dean jumped in, his voice a little distant. “I mean we ditched the plates, the credit cards.”

Sam breathed out suddenly. “They're leaving. False alarm.”

“Well, see. Nothing to worry about,” Dean jested.

“Yeah, being fugitives? Friggin’ dance party,” Sam deadpanned.

“Hey, man, chicks dig the danger vibe,” Dean commented.

You scoffed. “Got anything yet?” you asked the boys.

“Just one thing. I'm pretty sure of it now. We're hunting a Djinn,” Sam answered.

“Really? How do you know?” you questioned.

“A freaking genie?” Dean asked simultaneously. “What? You think these suckers can really grant wishes?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said. “I guess they're powerful enough. But not exactly like Barbara Eden in harem pants. I mean, Djinn have been feeding off people for centuries. They're all over the Quran.”

“And where do these guys shack up?” you asked.

“Ruins usually. Uh, bigger the better; more places to hide,” Sam replied.

Something struck you. “Y’know, I think I saw a place a couple miles back. I'm gonna go check it out.”

“Hell no, (Y/N),” Dean stated, voice suddenly much closer to the phone. “You’re not goin’ without us.”

“Dean, I’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s nothing. I just wanna take a look around,” you argued.

“I’ll call you guys when I’m headed back.” Despite the voices of the Winchesters protesting, you hung up the phone and turned the Impala around.

Minutes later, you came upon a decaying factory. Doors squeaked on their hinges as you pushed through them and decades-old papers crunched beneath your feet like fallen leaves. Everything seemed very empty and very abandoned, but you weren’t quite convinced. You headed deeper into the factory past several offices with smashed windows on their doors and blinds hanging crookedly.

Suddenly, something grabbed you and pinned you to the wall behind you. You dropped the flashlight you were holding as the Djinn pinned your hand above your head. You got a clear look at the monster in front of you; a bald man with curling blue tattoos detailing his face and body. You struggled against him, trying to get your knife through his chest with your free hand, but he pinned that one as well. The eyes before you began to glow an electric blue, and your entire body went numb.

*** The next time you woke up, you were alone in a comfortable bed. You jerked up, turned on the lamp next to you, and took in the room around you. There were scrubs tossed on the back of a rocking chair in the corner of the room and a picture of you and Dean hung on the far wall.

‘What the fu—’ you thought.

Suddenly, a shirtless Dean entered the room wearing sweatpants hanging low on his hips. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Dean!” you exclaimed. “What the fuck is goin’ on?”

He eyed you strangely and snorted. “Wha— What do you mean?”

“Where are we?” you asked.

Dean paused, still standing in the doorway and taken aback. “Uh, our house?”

“What?” you questioned.

“Babe, are you feeling okay?” he questioned, sitting on the bed next to you. “I knew your shift at the hospital was bad, but—”

“Wait, what? I don’t work in a hospital, I was hunting a Djinn—”

Dean cut you off. “You were probably just having a bad dream, sweetheart. Let’s go back to bed, okay?”

You weren’t quite sure what Dean was talking about or if this was even Dean. Maybe he’d been possessed, maybe you’d been— ‘Wait,’ you thought. ‘The Djinn. Maybe he did this to me.’

Dean climbed into bed next to you, and you noticed he wasn’t wearing the amulet he quite literally never took off. You were apparently eyeing him strangely, because he chuckled, “What?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head, “Just, uh— where’s your necklace?”

Dean laughed, almost sounding relieved. “Oh, I took it off to shower.” He put a silver chain with dog tags hanging from it around his neck. He opened his arm for you to settle into.

Hesitantly, you laid down on Dean’s chest. You didn’t get much sleep the remainder of that night, though; incredibly uneasy about what was going on around you.

Around three in the morning, you slipped out of Dean’s arms and began to explore the house around you. You peeked through the bedroom window to see a neighborhood outside that screamed Middle America. You crept down the hallway to the living room and kitchen area.

Along the walls of the den, there were photos hanging of what looked like you as a teenager and a child, but you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t think photos of you existed of that time in your life. And if they did exist, they definitely were not of you at your third birthday with a pink frilly party hat stuffing cake in your face or of you in a cap and gown graduating high school and college. The next thing that caught your eye was a picture of you hugging Steven tightly. Your hand flew to your mouth at the sight. However, it wasn’t your Steven. This one was older and a lot happier than the Steven you once knew.

Then, there were pictures of you and your mother. Your father was nowhere to be seen, much to your surprise. You nearly wept at the sight of your mom. Then, there were pictures of a young Sam and Dean. One was Dean hugging his mother. He looked much older than four which was the age you knew his mother died at.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out.

You took out your phone and checked the time. You considered for a moment, but decided to call Sam figuring he would likely be up soon anyway.

“Sam?” you asked when the call was answered.

“(Y/N)?” His voice sounded raspy and tired.

“Hey, yeah, what the hell’s goin’ on, man?” you demanded.

“(Y/N), what are you—”

“Oh, god, not you, too.” You hung up the phone and ran a hand through your hair. No one but you seemed to understand that this wasn’t right. You noticed something laying on the coffee table at your feet. An envelope addressed to you with Lawrence, Kansas written on one of the address lines.

“Lawrence? Why the fuck am I in Lawrence?” you breathed out.

You noticed a computer sitting a distance away and immediately hurried to it. You typed in your password; no luck. You tried Sam’s password for his and Dean’s shared laptop; no luck either. Frustrated, you sat back in the desk chair. You weren’t sure where the idea came from, but you suddenly had the thought to type in Steven’s name and birthday. Somehow, it worked. You remembered how that was your original idea for a computer password when you first bought yourself a laptop in your real life, but the reminder of Steven was too painful to do so.

You then set to work researching the Djinn. You learned that they’re not so much genies as they are wielders of godlike power. They could alter reality to their whims however they want in the past, present, and future.

Then, the thought hit you. ‘What if this is just my life now? What if I never see my Dean again? Am I even a hunter wherever this is?’ Your breath hitched as you realized something else. ‘Was I ever raped? Are my parents alive? Where’s Stevie?’

You typed “whitepages” into the search bar and put in your father’s full name; no results. You tried your mother’s and actually got a hit. She lived in Lawrence, too.

��What the fuck?’

You then tried Steven’s. Surprisingly, his name generated results, too. He also lived in Lawrence.

You hurriedly wrote their addresses down on a sticky note beside you on the desk. When you returned to your room, it was around five in the morning. Creeping around the room, you discovered the clothes in your closet were nothing like you wore in the real world: flowing skirts, cardigans, and lots of different colored scrubs. You almost smiled at the sight of the clothes hanging in your closet.

‘In another life, I definitely would’ve worn all this,’ you thought. You’d always wanted Carrie Bradshaw’s closet; Sex and the City was one of your guilty pleasure shows in the real world.

Your outfit of choice consisted of a pair of low-rise jeans, a halter top with a plunging neckline, and… ‘Oh.’ The only shoes this version of you had in her closet were heels. Admittedly, you’d never been great at wearing them, but always wanted to try. And so, you did.

Dean still slept peacefully, and you carefully clacked your heels back down the hallway. You headed outside to find the Impala in the driveway, and for that, you were grateful.

“Hey, sweet girl,” you grinned. You remembered seeing car keys on a hook next to the door of the house and quickly grabbed them. You popped open the trunk of the Impala secretly hoping to find something useful in it. However, old playboy magazines and paper cups were all you found.

‘Ew, Dean, clean out your car.’

You moved around to the driver’s side of the car. Before you could sit down in it, though, something caught your eye. A girl with a gaunt face and billowing white clothing was standing across the street on one of the neighbor’s lawns. A car blew past, and she was suddenly gone.

***

You rolled to a stop in front of the first address you had written down: your mother’s. You tried to keep your composure as you walked up to her front door. Hesitantly, you rapped your knuckles against it.

The door opened to reveal your beautiful mother who you’d missed so much. She looked a little older than she did the last time you saw her, and it was all you could do to keep yourself from throwing your arms around her.

“Mom?” you breathed out.

“What is it, hon?” she asked. “C’mon, come inside.”

The sound of her voice made tears spring to your eyes. You followed her into the living room where pictures of you and Steven lined the walls between crucifixes.

“Hey, Mom?” you started. “What song did you sing to me before you used to put me to bed?”

She looked confused, but humored you anyway. “The, uh, ‘The Long to Be’ song by the Carpenters.”

You smiled, partially in relief that this seemed to really be her and not just a figment of your imagination and partially at the fact that she knew. You rushed to her and hugged her tightly. Your mother seemed taken aback once more, but didn’t say anything to let on that she was.

“You okay? Everything alright with Dean?” your mother asked you.

“Oh, yeah, everything’s— everything’s great. Just, uh, it was a rough day at the hospital, ‘s all,” you said.

“How’s the garage?”

You tilted your head. “The garage?”

She seemed confused, too. “Dean’s? How’s work going for him?”

“Oh, oh. The garage, of course,” you laughed awkwardly. ‘Smooth, (Y/N),’ you mentally berated yourself. “Yeah, it’s fine, it’s great.”

“Really? Last time we talked, he was too busy drinking to focus on fixing a car,” she said.

You felt stunned. The Dean you knew was bordering on becoming an alcoholic, sure, but he wouldn’t let that get in the way of his job.

“Baby, I’m glad to see you, but why are you here at six in the morning?” your mom questioned.

“I just— I just couldn’t sleep. Needed to see my mom,” you replied. It was a half-truthful response.

Your mother offered a small, thoughtful smile. “Oh,” she suddenly said. “What time are you and Dean going to dinner tonight?”

You tilted your head. “Uh—”

“For Mary’s birthday?” she prompted.

“Oh, oh,” you said. “Right.”

“Did he not tell you?” she asked. “(Y/N), I’ve been telling you that boy isn’t right for you for a while now.”

“Mom—” you protested.

“No, (Y/N). You’re a fantastic nurse. You’re dating a drunkard mechanic. Why couldn’t you have dated Sam?”

“Ew, mom, no. Sam’s my best friend,” you said.

She seemed stunned. “What? That’s new. Last we talked, you hadn’t heard from Sam in months. Neither had Dean.”

It was your turn for your eyes to widen. “Right, right, yeah. Sorry. I’m just—”

“Have you been drinking? Dean’s rubbing off on you, (Y/N). You should have listened to me when I warned you about him,” your mother sighed.

“Jesus, Mom—”

“Don’t take his name in vain!” she scolded.

You scoffed. “I forgot that you’re like this.” You crossed your arms and turned away from her.

“Like what?” your mother pressed, voice rising.

“So incredibly judgmental of me. I’ve never been good enough for you or Dad, Mom!”

“How dare you bring up your father!” your mother cut you off.

“What?!”

“Wow, you really are drunk, (Y/N),” she replied. “He’s been dead almost your whole life. You barely even knew him. How could you say that about him?”

You felt like you’d been punched in the chest. ‘So that means he never hit us.’ “Mom, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Just leave, (Y/N). Please. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she sighed.

You turned and slammed the door behind you. You sat in the Impala with your head on the steering wheel just trying to process everything that was going on. Even in this fantasy land or new reality or wherever this place was, your mother was harshly critical of you. Granted, you’d rather her harshly criticize you and be alive than dead, but this version of your mother perfectly mirrored the true version of her. It truly freaked you out.

‘Well, scratch that off the list, I guess,’ you thought.

***

You hesitantly knocked on the door of your little brother’s home.

“(Y/N)?” he asked upon opening the door.

Tears sprang to your eyes. “Steve?” you breathed out.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?” he asked.

You smiled as a tear slipped down your cheek. “Uh, just a hard day at work ‘s all,” you replied. You threw yourself into his arms; a hug he responded to immediately.

“Hey, seriously, what happened?” he asked when you pulled away. “Was it Dean again? The hospital never gets to you like that.”

“Wait, what? No,” you shook your head. “Why does everybody keep saying he treats me poorly?”

Steven looked at you as if it was obvious. “Uh, ‘cause he does. He’s an alcoholic playboy asshole that you’re way too good for.”

“What?!” you questioned. “No, he isn’t.”

He sighed. “Listen, (Y/N), I don’t wanna keep having this fight with you.”

“Yeah, me neither,” you replied. You stopped for a moment. “Stevie, I’m really happy to see you.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m glad to see you, too.”

A small voice piped up from behind your brother. “Daddy?”

Steven stepped back to reveal a staggering toddler in pigtails. He picked her up and grinned down at her. “What’s up, kiddo?”

‘He’s a dad?’ Your shock only increased, and you smiled at the sight of them interacting. Another tear slipped down your cheek.

“Why’s Minnie crying?” the toddler asked her father.

You grinned. “She calls me ‘Minnie’?”

Steven nodded. “Yeah, just like I used to.”

You laughed. “Can I hold her?”

“Duh,” he replied, handing his daughter to you.

“Hi, sweet girl,” you grinned down at her. She tugged on the ends of your hair, babbling happily and singing to herself.

“Look, Minnie, I braid.” The toddler held up a now twisted, knotted mess of your hair.

You smiled at her. “Awesome job, angel.”

You sat on the floor playing with your niece and Steven for hours until your phone rang.

“Hey, (Y/N), where ya been?” Dean’s voice came from the other line.

“Steven’s,” you replied. “Why, what’s up?”

“We gotta be at my mom’s in an hour. Meet me there?” he asked.

*** You met Dean on the steps of his mother’s house.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he grinned, pecking your lips.

Suddenly, a voice came from behind you. “Seriously, Dean?”

“Sam!” you exclaimed, turning around to give him an enthusiastic hug. He hesitated to return it, and the woman next to him cleared her throat. You released him to come face to face with Jessica, a woman you’d only seen in pictures.

“Hey, Jess,” you said, the name feeling strange on your tongue. You hugged her as well, and she awkwardly laughed.

“Hi, (Y/N),” she said.

You then noticed the awkward distance between the two brothers and the bags Sam was lugging out of the trunk of the taxi in front of you.

“Where'd you guys come from?” you asked.

“We just flew in from... Califor—”

“California! Stanford and everything. Right, sorry,” you laughed. “I’m really not with it today.”

Sam nodded somewhat disapprovingly. “I can see that.” He motioned to the beer in Dean’s hand. “I see you started off Mom's birthday with a bang, as usual.”

“Sam—” Dean warned.

Your heart was breaking at the awkward tension between two brothers who were otherwise incredibly close friends. You couldn’t believe there was a universe where Sam and Dean weren’t, well, Sam and Dean.

***

The restaurant you sat in next to Dean was stuffy. Sam and Jessica were dressed equally as stuffy. Nothing felt right at this moment. You were suddenly reminded of the reason why you were here, and that you needed to figure out how to help yourself get out of here.

“Wow, that... looks awesome,” Dean said, referring to the plate of steak and asparagus that had been placed in front of him.

Sam raised his glass. “All right. To Mom. Happy birthday.”

“Happy birthday,” you, Dean, and Jessica said in unison.

“Thank you,” Mary replied, clinking her glass against yours.

You watched Sam and Jessica peck each other on the lips and you smiled fondly.

“I was really worried about you last night,” Dean told you.

“Oh, I'm… I'm good. I'm really good,” you nodded.

“For some reason, I don’t believe you,” he smirked. “I know a few ways I can make that a reality, though.”

You recoiled at that comment, slightly dumbfounded by how correct Steven had been about Dean’s behavior in this realm.

“Jess and I actually have another surprise for Mom's birthday. Ah,” Sam turned to Jessica, “you wanna tell 'em?”

“They're your family,” she laughed.

“What? Tell me what?” Mary asked excitedly.

Sam held up Jessica’s left hand to reveal an engagement ring. You laughed happily in surprise. “Holy shit! That’s amazing!” You got up and hugged Sam happily before hugging Jessica. “Congratulations!” you told them.

“I just wish your dad was here,” Mary told Sam.

You suddenly realized John was missing. You searched Sam’s face, whose disappointment mirrored his mother’s.

Dean and Sam awkwardly shook hands which hurt your heart a little to see. Just behind them, though, you noticed the girl from earlier. Her white, flowing clothing was much filthier and torn this time. You brushed past Sam and headed toward the girl, pushing past people mingling in between you and the haunting figure. As you pushed past the final woman, the girl was gone.

Confused, you turned back around to see the equally weirded-out faces of the Winchester family.

Sheepishly, you grinned and walked back over to them.

*** “You got somethin’ we need to talk about?” Dean asked you. He’d been completely silent since dinner up until this moment. He downed a beer in the kitchen before turning to you.

“What?” you asked.

“Back there with Sam. What’s going on with you two?” Dean asked. “In fact, you’ve been acting really weird the past two days. There somethin’ you wanna tell me?”

You scoffed. “Dean, I’m not fucking your brother. Look, I’m not feeling like myself right now. ‘S all.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Dean responded mockingly.

“Dude, why are you being such a dick?” you questioned.

“Oh, so we just call each other ‘dude’ now?” he argued.

“Listen, I’m really not enjoying this attitude, okay?” you responded.

Dean cut you off. “I’m not enjoying yours, either. What happened to the sweet little nurse I married?”

“Jesus, we’re married?” you questioned before you could help yourself.

“(Y/N), what the hell?” Dean replied, his confusion seeming to grow by the minute.

“I think I’m just… overly tired. I’m gonna… sleep out here tonight,” you said.

Dean scoffed. “Since when are you the childish one?”

“I’m not being childish, Dean, I just wanna sleep on the couch tonight, okay?” you hissed.

“Fine.” He left the room and returned to the bedroom the two of you apparently shared. You heard the door slam a moment later, and you flinched. You settled to the couch and pulled a blanket over yourself. You clicked on the television and began clicking through the channels. Something on the news caught your attention.

“And today marks the anniversary of the crash of United Britannia Flight 424,” the reporter began.

“What the—” you breathed out.

“Indianapolis residents held a candlelight vigil in memory of the hundred and eight people who lost their lives—”

Your throat clenched. “No, no. We stopped that crash.”

Panicked, you moved to your computer. Every hunt you checked had apparently never happened. “Nine Children Comatose” was the headline describing a “mystery illness” that had swept Dane County Hospital. Then, the brutal homicides from the clown killer after John died. And Taylor from the closing-down-Hoodoo-hotel case had drowned in the hotel pool. As you looked out the front window, you saw the same woman you’d seen twice already flash by the window. You turned around to see several female corpses hanging around you, and you nearly screamed out in surprise. Then, that same woman again flickering in front of you.

This twisted world was completely shocking even you, an experienced hunter. Your mind raced, but you knew what you had to do. A picture of your dad holding you as a baby on the wall of your house caught your attention.

“I’m sorry you’re not here, Dad,” you murmured. “And I know what I need to do. I’m gonna hunt this son of a bitch, but… I don’t know. Stevie’s happy. Mom’s… Mom. And I just— Why do we always have to be the ones to sacrifice something? A part of me is happy to do it, and this is proof that I could never have this. But it’s just… I don’t know. I know you’re tellin’ me to stop whinin’ and just get it done. I’ll make you proud. I promise.”

And with that, you grabbed a silver knife from your china cabinet and headed out to the Impala. You managed to steal lamb’s blood from a butcher’s shop and headed to the factory you’d last seen the Djinn at.

***

Hours later, you arrived at the factory in Illinois. Running on pure adrenaline, you headed inside. You moved your flashlight around to illuminate different parts of the factory, and you ignored your phone as it began to ring in your back pocket. The ringing silenced, and then rang again. Without thinking, you lifted your phone over your head and slammed it into the ground, shattering and silencing it completely.

Then, you came across a big store room with the same bodies you’d seen hanging in your living room strung up around it. Next, you noticed the woman you’d been seeing all along. She seemed close to death; her cheeks sallow, face pale, and body hanging limply.

“It’s her,” you breathed out.

Suddenly, you saw the Djinn coming around the corner. You ducked into the shadows as the woman began to cry. “Where's my dad? I won't tell—” she suddenly cut herself off. “Don't. Where's my dad?”

“Sleep,” you heard a soothing male voice say. “Sleep.”

You then saw the woman’s body completely relax, and the Djinn began to drink from the blood bag next to where she was hanging.

‘So that’s what it does,’ you realized. ‘It doesn’t grant you a wish, it just makes you think it has.’ As the Djinn disappeared, you continued to think. ‘What if I'm like her? What if I'm tied up in here some place? What if all this is in my head?’ You walked up to the woman. “I mean it could, you know, maybe it gives us some kind of supernatural acid, and then just feeds on us slow.’ You nearly scoffed audibly. ‘So, she’s not a spirit, she’s a flash of reality. I’m catatonic. Fucking great.’

Then, you remembered an old wives’ tale. “Listen to me, motherfucker!” you called into the darkness. “I’m gonna slit my fucking throat! I die in a dream, I wake up, right! Come and get me, I dare you!”

“Wait!” Dean’s voice suddenly called. He walked into the room.

“Why'd you have to keep digging?” Sam asked.“Why couldn't you have left well enough alone? You were happy.”

Your mother walked up to you and put a hand to your cheek. “Put the knife down, honey.”

“You're not real,” you said, tears forming in your eyes. “None of it is.”

“It doesn't matter. It's still better than anything you had,” Steven replied, holding his daughter.

“What?” you breathed.

“It's everything you want. C’mon, let’s go home,” Dean pleaded.

“I'll die,” you argued, voice breaking. “The Djinn 'll drain the life out of me in a couple of days.”

“But in here, with us, it'll feel like years. Like a lifetime,” your mother said. “I promise.” She put her hand to your cheek and stroked it with her thumb. “No more pain. Or fear. Just love and comfort. And safety. (Y/N), stay with us. Get some rest.”

“You and Dean don't have to worry about Sam anymore,” Jessica said. “You get to watch him live a full life.”

Dean walked up to you and kissed you fiercely. “We can have a future together. Have our own family. I love you, sweetheart. Please.”

“Why is it our job to save everyone? Haven't we done enough?” Sam tried. “I'm begging you. Give me the knife.”

You looked over to Steven, your lip quivering as you sobbed. “I’m sorry.” You slashed your throat with the knife, and the world went white once more.

***

“(Y/N)!” you heard someone yelling. “Sweetheart, wake up. (Y/N)!”

‘Dean.’

“Oh, God. Come on,” you heard Sam murmuring. “Hey. Wake up. Wake up, damn it!”

You began to roll your head a little, and your eyes could finally open. “Hey, guys.”

“Jesus, (Y/N),” Dean sighed. “I thought I lost you for a second.”

One of the two boys yanked out the IV in your arm.

“You almost did,” you joked half-heartedly.

“Oh, god,” Dean muttered, giving you a once-over. “Let's get you down.”

You winced as the boys helped you down, but you suddenly saw a pair of blue eyes glowing behind the boys. “Boys!”

Sam wheeled around, going at the Djinn with the knife. Dean immediately tried to get you away from the scene and set you down a distance away from the scene. “Stay here!” he ordered.

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I,” you groaned as Dean turned to help his brother. Several yelps and groans later, the two boys staggered over to you after having killed the Djinn. You pushed yourself off the floor, wincing, and immediately moved over to the girl you’d been seeing in your sleep. “She's still alive!” you called to the boys upon feeling a pulse in her neck.

The two Winchesters helped you cut her down and get her out of the factory to a hospital.

***

Upon your return to the motel, you found out from the hospital that she was alive and stable. There was a solid chance the girl would pull through.

“How 'bout you? You all right?” Sam asked you.

“Yeah, I’m fine, guys,” you said. “I’m great, actually. I’m just— I’m just glad to be back here again.”

“What was it like?” Dean asked.

“Oh, you were a complete dick,” you replied.

Dean chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

“And Sam— Sam you were such a freak,” you said. “All stuffy and Stanford-y.” You paused for a moment. “But, uh, you guys were really breakin’ my heart, honestly. You couldn’t get along to save your life.”

“I thought it was supposed to be this perfect fantasy,” Sam said.

“Trust me, it wasn’t,” you replied. “I know we’ve lost a lot, but, uh, I wouldn’t trade any of this for the world. Even seeing Stevie again, I— it just wasn’t right. I felt like more of a freak there than I do here. I, uh, I wished what happened to me at the prison never had, but the truth is, that’s always gonna be with me. I can’t just… get rid of it. Nothing can. And that’s not okay, but I’ll learn to live with it.”

You left the boys to sit with your words and moved to the bathroom. When you looked up at the mirror, an image of you with your mussed-up hair and guard uniform on flashed before you. You ignored the fresh-looking scrapes on your arm and blood streaking down them and shut your eyes. When you opened them once more, you were back to looking at your sunken face and tired eyes.

Dealing with this was hell. Every day felt like a struggle since what happened to you. But deep down, if you were honest with yourself, you would take dealing with all this with your two boys over your white-picket-fence, Djinn-dream-life any day.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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solar4seekstron · 2 months ago

Text

Before and So Forth Chapter Six: Megatronus

Transformers One!Megatronus x Cybertronian!GN!Reader

Solars Indie Series

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight

Introduction Indie Series

Contents: 16+

TW/Tags: Pretty normal chapter, more drama with the harem, Vector knows something is up, Megatronus goes into boyfriend mode, Reader is growing distant from Starscream and Soundwave that’s why reader is acting the way they do with the two, this chapter is really just to build up the next and the 8th chapter, the ending was a pain to figure out my god. That should be all.

You couldn’t sleep that night. Both full of excitement and fear. Sentinels words still looming over you.

But soon it will be the last day of your courtship. Even though that means that your relationship might change with the other bots…Primus why couldn’t you be born as a minicon and not fall in love with anyone?

When the lights from your window hits your optics. You realize you’ve been staring at the ceiling for hours.

And so you sat up, grabbing some energon, and making your way to the tower. You knew you had training with Megatronus today. And then meet up for another meeting with Starscreams team.

You were dreading it honestly.

As soon as you got to the tower, soon opening the front door after the guards accepted you in. You were surprised to to Solus and Vector Prime speaking amongst theirselves as a few guards stand by.

You started to worry. Why would the primes be near the entrance like this?

You descided to take a different path down the hall.

You cant deal with the primes right now. As you continue to walk you’d soon feel a larger cervo on your shoulder.

You stopped.

Turning your helm to see its vector prime. You soon spoke. Surprised he stopped you as he had a smile. “M-my Prime.”

”Young Y/N. Do you mind if I have a chat with you. Alone at my training quarters?”

You tried to hold back a gulp as you slowly nod. “Not at all My Prime.” You responded flawlessly as his grin only grew.

You’d follow him to his training quarters. Wondering what he cold be needing you for.

You both soon made it to the room. He opened the door and allowed you in first as he held open the door.

Once inside, he closed the door and you could hear the locks behind you. You turned around and he just stared down at you.

Pulling out his swords.

Your guard was already up. But now it’s spiraling to a high. You backed up. Your cervos already on the handles of your swords as you looked at him.

”Now now. I just wish to practice your sword training.” He starts to walk tot eh side. About to walk circles around you.

“I’m honestly ashamed I didn’t see a proper as well as a sword fighter alongside me and very few others.”

He’d continue as you watch him. Your cervos remaining on the handle of your swords as he kept speakin. Probably trying to catch you off guard.

“Ever since the start of this week. My dear brother Megatron has been..Distracted. I thought it could be Solus not making up her damn mind about her feelings with Megatron and a few other primes….But now I see why.”

He stopped behind you. His swords on both sides of you. You glanced at one of them. Seeing your own reflection as well as him looking down at you.

”Tell me.” His other sword was now under your chin. Making you look up a bit as the other went to your stomach. Going to your lower stomach. You stood still as he contnued to speak.

”If I were to add you to m team. My training sessions instead. Would Megatron not miss you so much? I’ve seen your records. But. I’m not that too impressed with that…scar.” His sword by your helm now closer to the side of the scar. Gently gracing it with the side of the sword.

Very slowly you pulled your swords forward a little as he spoke once more.

”If you can somehow defeat me. Then I wont remove you. I just cant start having the strongest primes in our rank be distracted now. Should we?…….So…what will it be?”

You were fas to move. Pulling out both swords and moving your helm and body just right from his swords.

Slashing at his swords and kicking at his lower stomach. You then had to land on your cervos and jump back to your pedes.

Grabbing your swords off the ground.

Soon in your battle stance as you stared at him. He then stood up fast. He looked almost surprised as he stared down at you. You having one sword infront of you and the other behind you.

Vector then spinned his swords a couple times before moving forward for the first attack. You were fast to block his attack with your swords. You both staring at each other as you kept your grip.

“Already with one of your Primes? Guess I invoked you well little one.”

You two kept at it. You mostly dodging his advances of cutting you while you were able to put in a few good cuts.

At one point you threw your swords over him. Using your strength to grab his shoulders with your cervos. Moving your body above his then kicking him back by his chest. Landing on your pedes and picking your swords up in a fast motion. Back in your battle stance as you hear him grunt.

”A fast aren’t ya.” He looked back. You kept still. Waiting to see what he’ll do next as he picks up his sword.

You were almost out of breath. You both at this for a while as he didn’t seem to be struggling too much. But before he can do anything.

The two of you then heard the doors on the other side open. Guess he forgot to lock those.

Megatronus soon came in. You can tell even with his mask on that he was angry as he stared at the prime. You stood there. Your arms to your sides still holding your sword. Vector doing the same as he stared at Megatronus then spoke.

“You think you can try to take away one of my best soldiers without my knowledge?!”

He made his way to Vector. Passing you as you just watched. Megatronus getting into Vectors face as he spoke.

“Did Solus put you up to this?”

Vector just stared at his. Clenching the handles of his swords as you slowly put you swords back in their handle in the background.

”What has she poisoned you with to make you go after them? Tell me!”

Vector stayed quiet for a moment before casually spinning his swords.

Then putting them back in his holders. “Brother. You are distracted. I was simply just testing the distraction. I must say they are a strong worrior. So what else can it be?”

He starts walking towards you. You took a step back for a moment. Megatronus noticed and stepped between you both. Vector speaking once more.

”Oh. I see that’s how it is brother. For sham. But I suppose it makes sense.”

He walks around Megatronus. Back to you before placing his cervo on your shoulder once more. “Solus didn’t send me. But I’m sure her being worried of your “Distraction” wasn’t a coincidence. Be more careful you two. Because who knows how long this’ll last.”

He mad his way out of the room. Leaving both you and Megatronus alone. The room stays quiet. You looked down before looking back at Megatronus. Who’s cervos were clenched as he stared at the door. Before looking down at you.

Your frame soon facing him as you stared up at him. “Megatronus?”

He lets out a breath before kneeling down before you. Placing her larger cervo on your lower back and takes off his mask after setting down his spear.

His mask then coming off as his white optics look down at you. You’ll never get tired of looking at his optics. He’d then look at the door before looking back at you. He then finally spoke.

”Are you alright?” He asked. You slowly nodded before looking at the door. You’d the speak. “We should…head to training now. Right?”

He’d not That is until he gets a comm by Zeta Prime. Appearently he needs to speak with him along with the other primes. Megatronus then spoke to the comm, turning away a bit .

“I’ll be right there.”

He looks back at you. You reached a cervo to rest on his cheek. “Are you alright?”

He turns his helm and gently kisses the palm of your cervo before speaking. “My apologies sweetsaprk. I’m not sure why but I’ll look into it. It would appear that our secret wont be one of a secret for much longer. I suppose that can help with the last of our courtship.”

You let out a soft sigh and looked down. “But what if-“

He stopped you with a soft kiss. Before pulling away and speaks. “Until then. I’ll comm you. Training will have to be canceled and we’ll-“

This time he was stopped when you kisses him. Gently pulling and holding his cheeks gently. The kiss soothing and passionate. You both closing your optics as you both let out soft moans. His cervo still on your lower back. He was the one to pull away before speaking.

”Until then, Sweetsaprk.”

With that he stood up and put on his mask. And made his way out of the room.

You stayed in there for another moment…Well. You had other..”Interesting” mornings this week before this one. Which is strange now that you really think about it.

From there you made your way to the other door and unlocked it. Surprised to see Starscream on the other side. A frown on his face with optic ridges furrowe.

His cervos on his hips as he stared you down. You only looked up at him with wide optics.

”Me and You..are going. To. Have. A. Chat.”

Soon he grabbed your arm and dragged you with him. He started dragging you to his own meeting you and places you in a chair. Holding both of your arms.

Practically man handling you. You started to panick as he pulled a seat and sat in front of you. Crossing his arms as his moves a leg over the other crossing them.

He just stared down at you for a moment before speaking. “I should’ve known this was happening.”

You gulped as he continued.

“Behind everyone’s back. Behind mine! After the promise I made to you! When were you going to tell me hm? When were you going to tell me? WHEN?!”

He sat forward at the last part.

Causing you to lean back a bit. You thought. Maybe he doesn’t know the full story?

Ok just don’t overreact. This can be anything.

“Um….What did I not tell you?” Starscream looked almost like he was huffing before his optics growing a brighter red and let out a small growl.

Standing up fully and slamming his cervos on the arms of your seat as he spoke. His voice a bit louder.

”About you and your special relationship with that Prime!” He keeps staring down at you. You keep looking at him worried. He then lets out a growl. “With Zeta Prime!”

For a moment your face relaxed. Oh-

Then out of no where you started to laugh. You weren’t expecting him to say him of all primes. Starscream was still at that positio. His cervos on the arms as he leaned over you. His intake open a little as he looked at you.

His optics dim as he shows a confused expression.

You keeep laughing. You speaking inbetween. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You think me and Vector Prime?” You chuckled.

“What cause we both use swords.

Starscreams dermas had a frown as he stared at you. You’d then wipe away a tear of joy before moving under his arms as he just watched you. then standing fully straight when you got closer to the door as you spoke.

”You really thought I’d be going around with him.

You’re terrible at eavesdropping Starscream. Oh and I’m still mad at you by the way. So.” You are about to touch the button to open the door until Starscream grabbed your cervo and pulled it closer to his chest.

”Don’t think you’re getting off that easy. What where you and him speaking about?”

You’d let out an annoyed sigh as you tried to pull your cervo back. “That’s non of your business Starscream. He just needed to speak to me about my form. That’s all I’m allowed to speak about.”

You said casually to taunt him. You were able to finally pull you cervo away and walk out Starscream watching you as you walked away.

You rolled your optics as you whispered to yourself as you stomp away.

“Unbelievable.”

———————————————————————————

Later you were in the lunch room. reading a data pad about the latest events of the Quintissons. As well as a report by Rumble who has been on a few advantures.

That surprised you since you still can’t go anywhere thanks to your last mission and the scar on your cheek.

Primus it doesn’t even feel like it’s been a few days although it feels like weeks instead.

You drank some energon as you kept reading. Hearing the door open but not paying much mind. That’s when you heard someone sitting next to you. It was Frenzy. He then spoke as you heard Rumble behind you grabbing some energon. “Are you mad at Soundwave? What he do?”

You just sigh and placed the data pad down as you respond.”I am Frenzy but that’s because he wasn’t thinking straight. That’s all.”

He was silent for a moment before speaking. “It’s because he wants to frag you huh?” You choked a bit on your energon before looking back at him. He lets out a chuckle as rumble did with energon. The two starting to eat as you looked at them.

You’re not sure what to say. Returning to drinking your energon.

“He had a crush on you ever since we started working for the high guard you know. Give him a chance and just listen maybe? He’s been pretty sad since.”

You listened to him carefully. You’d sigh and stand up. “I need some air.”

”We don’t breath like organics.” The two would say.frenzy grabbing your cervo pulling you back to eat with them once more. You’d groan and sit back down.

Eating with the two as Rumble starts talking about his recent adventures.

Unknown to you Shockwave was standing at the door with a cup of energon. Walking in and sitting next to you. Rumble and Frenzy in their own conversation.

Not noticing him.

Shockwave sat there an started conversation with you. It lasting for a while. Your meeting with Starscream for another while. And it was nice…Being with them.

———————————————————————————

A few hours have went by. Still no comm by Megatronus. Shockwave had to leave to continue with his work and the cassette twin already left to Soundwave. Once alone you stood up and made your way to your meeting in Starscreams meeting room.

That went as good as you can…expect it.

Youre pretty sure Soundwave was staring you down from across the table and Starscream will glare at you with every chance. At least they’re good at not making it obvious.

You mostly just looked over data pads as you listened to Starscream yap about his plan. Knowing it wont be easy for you to go anyway.

Even though your scar is pretty healed up.

But what was the real kicker was when Soundwave kicked you at the leg. Telling you to stay. You looking at him with cervos clenched on the table as everyone else left soon out the door. Happy the 4 hour meeting was over.

And so…”Why wont you talk to us?!” Soundwave angrily asked. You responde.

”Soundwave it’s been a day. And my reasons are my own. Not yours.” Soundwave let out a growl before standing out of his seat.

His cervos against the table while Starscream stood at the head of the table.

”I am not doing this with the two of you.” You said as you stood up. “I am a grown bot and I will descide.” You say the last word a bit louder as you looked at Starscream.

Who just crossed his arms. “Maybe when this war ends. If it ever does! Now if you both will excuse me! I have to go.” Soundwave stood up and watched you before making his way to you.

But before he could grab your arm you were able to get the door to slam in his face.

You continue to walk down the hall. Primus what is up with the mechs today. You walked past a few guards. A few of them waving to you. You waving back.

But out of no where. You finally got a comm from Megatronus.

You made it to a more private room close by and closed the door. Answering the private comm. You spoke with a bit of a shaky voice.

“Hello?”

”Y/N meet me in my sleeping quarters…Tonight is the night.”

Not me giggling and kicking my feet under my desk as I type this out. I hope y’all liked this everything in here was to help out with building up the next two chapters. Also I decided on the last chapter I’ll create an alternate ending where the primes live. Lots of you have been asking for reader to live happily ever after with daddy prime.

Sorry that the ending is so weak it was killing me all day on how to end it. But I hope the rest before what somewhat enjoyable. Y’all can let me know in the comments lol. Sorry again but I hope you guys enjoyed!!!!

As always a repost is appreciated and I hope you guys have a good rest of your day!!!!

#x reader #transformers #transformers x reader #transformers one #transformers one x reader #megatronus x reader #tf megatronus #TF Before and So Forth

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hannie-dul-set · 4 months ago

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heartbeat conquest — day 2.

SYNOPSIS. you’re sucked into a reverse harem otome game, and there’s only one goal— say the right things to conquer as many pretty boys as you can. PAIRINGS. tomorrow x together x reader. TAGS. social media! au, modern fantasy, reverse harem (of fucking course), romance, humor, a whole bunch of weird dynamics maybe HUAHAHAHAHAHHAAH. inspired by the manhwa with the same title, “heartbeat conquest.”

considering the less than bare minimum amount of information you have on your targets, it wasn’t easy to come up with a decision.

of the five, you have managed to unlock three. sanctuary is choi beomgyu. you have no idea why that’s his nickname when the first thing he does is boss you around. his interest is evident in his 0% conquest rate (for now). from what you can surmise based on the description the system gave you— him being an arrogant and egotistical fuck— you believe you might do yourself and him a favor by humbling him a little. in short, you’re not showing up.

another contradictory nickname to the interaction is savior— kang taehyun. now, what is up with this guy?

admittedly, you might have slipped up, not catching onto the passive-aggression of his first text, but you were going off of no context, so forming a positive response would have been close to impossible. still, from what you know so far, it would be difficult to figure out what exactly is on saturday. hence, it would be difficult to prepare for.

now lover is an interesting guy. choi yeonjun. he texts you that he misses you and is shocked when you respond because…he thought you blocked him? is your ex? a player? he seems to be an attention-seeker, and you have an inkling that making him want your attention would be the best move. therefore, you’re not seeing him this saturday. it seems like he and beomgyu also know each other. picking one over the other might cause some conflicts.

that leaves two targets that have yet to be unlocked: angel and knight.

both appear to be your typical sweet, polite, soft boy love interests from a shoujo manga.yet that’s all you’re working with for now. it would be best to pick one of them. just to dig in deeper and find out more.

though, you’re meeting choi soobin at two in the afternoon, you’re already out and about by 10:00 a.m.

first, to get yourself familiar with the environment, of course. you had the idea that this is some preppy private university, but the scale of TSC is just atrociously large. there are facilities for almost everything, training grounds for every single field and specialization. how you managed to find your way to EB 201 was a revelation.

turns out you— or the character you’re playing— is quite well-known around campus. as a transferee who got admitted late into your second year of university, your talent having been discovered late.

“it’s the first room up the stairs,” jaeyun tells you, one of the students you’d just asked around for directions. he’s bright and smiley and, quite frankly, very good looking that you almost mistook him for a love interest or target. but all your targets so far seem to have known you. and when you tapped on jaeyun’s shoulder thirty minutes ago, armed with a smile and prettily batting eyes, he seemed to be taken and taken off guard right off the bat, and asked for your name and major. “or...or would you like me to accompany you upstairs? let me carry your bag for you!”

the otome effect is quite impressive. “it’s alright,” you smile at him. jaeyun droops and his energy deflates. “i can take it from here. thank you!”

since he isn’t any of your targets, you feel no remorse leaving him behind while you climb up the stairs, shoulder in bag in tow. and just as jaeyun says, you’re met with the door labeled 201. a beat of hesitation creeps up on you. but there seems to be no other options than to just knock and follow your target’s instructions.

so, you do. your knuckles hit the wooden door. once. twice. three times. knock, knock, knock.

a click and a creak. the door opens to another good looking guy. “hi! sorry to interrupt. is choi soobin around?” but he isn’t the one you’re looking for.

in fact, the one you’re looking for is very easy to find. because even when you take a peek into the room and are met with around six, seven other men, your eyes immediately land on choi soobin.

how?

because he’s the only one with a big purple heart floating right above his head, with a bright and shining 0% right inside it.

“soobin!” the doorman hollers out with a huge grin. “a girl is looking for you!” choi soobin need not that signal to notice you, because he already has, from the moment he caught your eyes, and you greet him with a smile and wave. you notice a few of the other guys staring and getting flustered a bit, wavering to bump their shoulders and elbow at your target, coughing inaudible whatevers, yet the percentage on choi soobin’s head refuses to waver, even with the faint pink brushing his cheeks, the shaking of his head when he mumbles something inaudible to his friends.

of course, this game wouldn’t give you the grace of an easy difficulty. looks like this guy is deeper than he appears.

“quit it,” you hear him laugh off before jumping to his feet, getting off from his seat. “you’re giving everyone the wrong idea.”

“i’m sure we all have a pretty good idea of what’s going on here.”

“later, dude! have fun with your assignment.”

his friends’ insinuating remarks aside, you can’t help notice that despite choi soobin’s apparent easygoing air, with each step that he takes to approach you, you can sense his ease slowly disappearing, melting into a jittery nervousness that’s masked by that same charming, boyish smile you saw on his photo.

“did you wait long?” he says, standing right before you now, giving you the privilege to bask in the perfection that the system described. it almost made you miss the hard swallow he forces in— right in the second before he takes away the weight of your bag from you. “sorry about that. i should’ve waited outside.”

“oooh! choi soobin, quit flaunting your moves!”

choi soobin shushes them. you use it as a chance to get a better look inside the classroom. “not at all,” you reply, and it doesn’t appear as though they were just conducting a meeting. why is he saying that he should’ve waited outside when he instructed you to knock and ask for him? “let’s go?”

he looks at you, smiling ever so perfectly. “sure.”

now, in order to avoid any massive fuck-ups, you made sure to look through all the shit in your dorm room earlier. anything that can provide some hints and contexts of this damned gamed that you got sucked into. you discovered that you were majoring in international relations. you discovered that your class with choi soobin is a just a simple elective on organizational communication, and all there is to your paired assignment is to write a report on max weber and henri fayol’s bureaucratic theory and scientific management, and would take an hour maximum to do so you don’t get why choi soobin was making such a big deal out of it.

he’s hard to understand, that’s for sure. you don’t get what his motives are. especially when he’s pulling out all the fucking stops by opening the large, library door before you could even more your arm an inch, by dragging your chair out for you before you could even reach out for it. “do you want to rest for a but? i’ll cover the sunlight for you,” he says, when he can just pull down the blinds because he led you to the tables next to the window because “the view is pretty here,” he says. and when you suggest to transfer to a less crowded spot because people started pouring in at two-thirty, he strongly went against it.

“it—it isn’t that crowded yet,” cho soobin argued. “do you mind if we transfer a little later?”

how odd. what’s even more odd is despite all of his explicit acts of interest—

“what’s— what’s wrong? is there something in my hair?”

why is that floating thing above his head still at zero?

“nothing,” you hum in response, smiling. choi soobin looks mortified at the prospect of something unbelonging in his hair that he whips out a hand mirror. “will you excuse me for a bit?”

he settles down the mirror, a hesitant hand lowering down to the desk. “o—oh. yeah, sure,” he responds. “will you take long?”

“would it be a problem if i will?” you bounce back. he shakes his head and tells you to go ahead, carry on, attempting to reshape his distraughtness with a practiced smile of ease.

hints? progress? what? you can’t dwell on the sudden updates from this damned system, because when you look up from your phone, you see soobin surrounded by a lot of people. different people. not the same ones you saw from the classroom earlier. “you ditched hanging out with us to work on an assignment?” one of them says, jokingly. soobin denies it with a laugh. “aren’t you working on that new pretty transferee from IR? did she ditch you too?” another one raises. well, you already know that the premise of this game has your name floating around and about. it feels weird to hear it upfront, though.

“haha, no, she just left to answer some texts.”

soobin’s defense sounds weak. he’s brushing them off with the same easygoing attitude. “you really went for it, huh?” one of them hums, nudging him. maybe this is your cue to interrupt. “i told you you two would look together! didn’t i?”

ah. it definitely is your cue to interrupt.

“soobin?”

ding!

“should we get back to work?”

the moment you step in, you see it— that mocking percentage flickering from zero to one.

1%. huh.

that’s interesting.

“yeah. good timing.”

choi soobin looks at you with an expression that you can only describe as gratefulness.

“sorry, guys! we still have a lot of work to do.”

this is interesting, indeed. you’re surrounded by a bunch of expectant eyes of bystanders left and right, like they’re watching a movie right before their eyes— and you and choi soobin are the main leads. this is quite the situation. and your co-star appears to be both nervous and relieved: relieved that you showed up, nervous while waiting for you to react or respond.

now, how should you deal with this situation? and how do you settle the other four you just ignored?

NOTE. the questions are a bit abstract this time HUAHAHAHAHHA hopefully they aren’t too difficult to answer 😭 i personally hate the limited response choices in otome games bcs most of the time, i won’t act or say in ways that are readily provided. i hope ur all the same as me so u can enjoy this game too 😞😞😞

also, i’ve received feedback that they’d like their actual names to be put instead of the nicknames, and dw!! i will change it to their real names once all of them have been unlocked HAHAHAH.

as usual, answer the form linked above to progress the story. i will close the form once i’ve reached a consensus in the responses. hope you’re all still having fun!! thank you for joining in!!

DAY 1 | DAY 2 | DAY 3 (LOCKED) . . .

#heartbeat conquest #tomorrow x together x reader #txt x reader #txt scenarios #txt fanfic #choi yeonjun x reader #choi soobin x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #kang taehyun x reader #hueningkai x reader #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #taehyun x reader #huening x reader

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kikyoupdates · 2 months ago

Text

Crushed Velvet ⭑˚🥀⭑ 𝑠𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, isekai

Your parents are thrilled to have secured an engagement for you with the royal family. Your suitor, the crown prince, has agreed to be wed to you. It seems as though your entire future has been assured, so why is it that from this moment onward, your life starts to fall apart at the seams?

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So, your first marriage interview had been a total fail. Here you were, all excited about getting invited to the palace, only to have your supposed suitor walk out on you in the middle of your discussion. He’d talked about proceeding with the engagement with such nonchalance. You couldn’t tell if he was saying that honestly or just to get rid of you faster, but either way, it sure felt like you were being made a fool out of.

You waited for a few minutes, hoping it was just the eccentricity of a prince and that he’d be back eventually. But no, he didn’t return. You were both utterly confused and extremely annoyed. Even though you didn’t feel all that comfortable about wandering about the palace on your own, it was obvious that he wasn’t coming back, and you’d had quite enough of being toyed with. You stood up, slowly opened the door, and stepped out into the hallway.

No one else was around. None of the servants from earlier were anywhere in sight. Perhaps the King and Queen had specifically requested they clear the area, but it just made you feel even more uncomfortable, like you were sneaking around without permission.

Well, what else am I supposed to do? He’s clearly not coming back.

You let out a sigh and decided you would deal with the consequences later on if it came to that. It was a massive building, obviously, which made navigating around fairly difficult. Thankfully, you sort of remembered which way you’d come from, and you retraced your steps until you could hear some familiar voices.

Your parents were out in the hallway, still talking to the King and Queen, but Xeno was also with them. You couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. His lips stopped moving, and he glanced over in your direction, probably because he’d heard your footsteps. He didn’t say anything else and simply walked away.

He’d looked right into your eyes just now and had still left without acknowledging you. What a dick.

“Oh, [Name],” your mother smiled. “We were just finishing up here. Your father and I are so glad to hear that everything went well.”

“Uh…”

Apparently, your parents had a different definition than you when it came to the word “well”. But you couldn’t say anything, because the King and Queen were regarding you with warm smiles, their eyes sparkling with what you could only interpret to be delight.

“We’re very pleased with today’s meeting,” King William said. Then he looked towards you. “[Name], thank you for speaking with Xeno. He can be rather shy, but it seems he must have taken a liking to you. All of us are very excited to move forward with the engagement.”

“Uh…”

You’d basically forgotten how to speak. You were so goddamn confused that it was taking all your strength to keep your head from spinning. By sheer force of will, you were able to muster up a forced smile, hoping your expression wasn’t too deranged.

“Thank you again for having us,” your father said, bowing his head alongside your mother. It took you a second to snap to your senses, but soon you were bowing your own head as well. For what, you really had no clue. Xeno may as well have whipped you in the face with his handkerchief.

Soon enough, you were being led out of the palace. The servants had materialized practically out of thin air, but given everything that had just transpired, you were hardly surprised anymore.

It wasn’t up until you were in the comfort of your carriage that you felt it was safe enough to let your guard down.

“What the hell just happened?” you blurted out.

Your mother cocked her head. “What do you mean? We went there to secure an engagement with the Crown Prince, and that’s exactly what we did. Really, I’m surprised you aren’t celebrating right now. This is such a big deal!”

“I barely spoke to the guy for two minutes,” you said. “He also didn’t seem to be all that taken with me. Do you know what he said? He said he was just sick of constantly having marriage interviews, and decided that he would go with me. He made a huge decision like that purely on a whim. And his parents are okay with it?”

“You must be mistaken,” your father frowned. “Prince Xeno personally came to us himself to confess how excited he was to have met you. His parents had just been in the process of telling us that he is an extremely fussy sort. No matter what, he refused to get engaged. They were worried he might never agree to it. This is an incredible honor, my dear.”

You still weren’t convinced. “It just strikes me as very odd. Normally, there should be a lot of careful consideration that goes into the Crown Prince selecting his wife. I know our family has a very high rank, but it just felt like a half-hearted, spur-of-the-moment decision. I wonder if it’s okay to be going through with this when we’ve barely spoken two words to each other.”

“Honey, you’re overthinking it,” your mother brushed off. “A lot of people get engaged without even meeting their partner first. Besides, if the royal family is willing to do so, we have no place to complain. This is an honor. We can only stand to gain from this situation.”

“Uh-huh…”

Honestly, you weren’t so sure. Of course, like most people, you would have wanted to marry for love, but you knew that politics and social prestige always took precedence in the life of nobles. You knew you shouldn’t be complaining. Like your parents said, this was an honor. You were fortunate. You were lucky. Your entire future had pretty much just been guaranteed, but for some reason, you really didn’t have a good feeling about this.

As it turned out, the royal family was far more eager to proceed with the engagement than you’d realized. At first, you thought that maybe they would even reconsider. They would realize that they’d jumped the gun and tell your family that perhaps Xeno needed more time before making his decision. But nope, that wasn’t the case at all.

Hardly three days after the marriage interview, a letter was mailed to your family’s estate. An invitation—but more of a summons, really—to attend the engagement announcement being held at the palace.

To say your eyes nearly bulged out of your skull would still have been an understatement. The announcement was set to take place in less than a week. They really weren’t wasting any time.

“Isn’t this just way too fast?” you protested. “I mean… even the other nobles must be surprised. For important events like this, people are usually given plenty of time to prepare. It feels incredibly last-minute. It certainly isn’t normal.”

“Well, you’re right about one thing,” your mother sighed. “It hardly gives us any time to pick out a brand-new dress. But it’s fine! We’ll be busy these days, but I’m sure we can make the arrangements in time. You need to look absolutely stunning. So much so that everyone will be completely taken aback.”

“But this is—”

“What color dress would you like?”

“Mom, I really don’t—”

“Oh, I know, I know. It’s more about the design than the color, but it needs to flatter your complexion, while also allowing you to stand out. Don’t worry, I’ll start brainstorming. Oh, I’m just overjoyed that my daughter is being granted such an important role! Your father and I couldn’t be prouder.”

As usual, your pleas fell on deaf ears. You couldn’t blame your parents for being excited. It was only natural for them to want this union to succeed, but the whole thing just really didn’t make sense to you.

Still, you didn’t really have much of a choice but to go along with it. Refusing the engagement after both families had agreed upon it would be an incredible show of disrespect. Besides, no matter how cold and unpleasant Prince Xeno appeared to be, it was still possible that he might open up to you as the two of you got to know each other better.

“Let’s… start looking for dresses, I guess,” you sighed in defeat.

Your mother let out a squeal of delight and started clapping her hands. “Oh, it’s going to be so much fun!”

And that was how the next few days were spent, hours and hours wasted skimming through dress designs and making trips to the tailor. It was, regretfully, not fun, as your mother had promised. You honestly would have been happy picking the first dress you tried on, but your mother wanted everything to be perfect. Countless adjustments were made, to the point that the fabric practically molded to your torso. To put it frankly, it felt like your chest was at risk of bursting past all the buttons and slipping free whenever you took a particularly deep inhale. You felt ridiculous, like some show pony who was being put on display.

Of course, your mother was over the moon.

“It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed. “This is the one! It has to be this one!”

You were far from comfortable, but relieved that the grueling process had finally come to an end. And just in the nick of time, too. The announcement was going to take place the day after tomorrow, and you were in dire need of a day off to just rest and recover from the absurdity of this breakneck pace.

Ella offered you a sympathetic smile as she brushed your hair out that night. “It’s been busy lately, hasn’t it? I’m sure you must be very tired.”

“I am exhausted,” you groaned.

“Still, the Crown Prince wants to marry you! It’s no wonder. My lady is so beautiful and kind. He must have fallen in love with you right away.”

“No, I don’t think he likes me at all.”

“Oh, nonsense! Weren’t you saying that he’s refused everyone else so far? He must consider you special, if he made the decision that quickly.”

“He called me tolerable. That’s hardly a compliment.”

It was clear that Xeno wasn’t a courteous, amiable person, but you were somewhat comforted by the fact that he’d spoken about his previous candidate for marriage on far worse terms. The only daughter of the Tybalt family was the one who’d been most favored to win his hand, but it turned out that he found her absolutely deplorable. You weren’t sure why exactly, but you were apparently much better by comparison, which is probably why he’d jumped at the opportunity to marry literally anyone else. Now that you thought about it more, it really wasn’t all that flattering.

“It will all work out fine, my lady,” Ella smiled. “You’ll get plenty of rest tomorrow, and the day after, you’ll officially be introduced as the Prince’s fiancée! Even if he might not be your ideal partner, the royal family will have to look out for you for the rest of your life. I’m sure you’ll warm to the idea soon enough.”

“Well, I certainly hope so.”

“Get some rest now, my lady.” She winked as she prepared to step out the door. “I’ll make sure to let you sleep in tomorrow morning.”

You smiled back. Bless her soul. You were aware that even higher luxuries awaited you, but you were honestly very happy with the life you had already. Your parents, your home, even the close relationships you had with your servants. You’d been graced with a good life, and perhaps it was time to stop worrying so much and learn to take things in stride.

Ella flicked the lights off as she left, and your eyelids slowly fell.

The day of the announcement was upon you, and you felt like throwing up.

Not because you were sick or anything—that would have been absolutely abysmal luck—but because your stomach was filled with nerves. You’d never really been one to get stage fright or anything, but you’d also never been privy to something of this scale. You would be standing in front of hundreds of nobles, being introduced as the future Queen of this kingdom. It was a massive event and you were nervous, and you’d also come to the conclusion that your dress was way too flashy.

“I might not be able to do this,” you gritted out.

Your father chuckled. “Oh, you’re always making jokes. You’ll be fine, dear. Your mother and I are so excited we can hardly wait.”

“What if I trip in front of all those people?”

“You won’t trip, sweetheart. All you need to do is step out onto the balcony area, then wave and smile at everyone on the ballroom below.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” you groaned. “What if I trip while I’m walking to the edge of the balcony?”

“Well, that may be a little embarrassing, so please do your best not to.”

You sighed and massaged your temples, feeling a headache come on. Since you and your family were officially the guests of honor, you were arriving a bit earlier than the others, and entering through a separate entrance so that you had time to take up your post. You wanted to hurry up and get the thing over with so that you could have a few drinks and treat yourself to the delicious food they were sure to be providing.

Think of the food, just think of the food…

Fortunately, thinking of the food proved to be an efficient distraction, to the point that you were half zoned out while you were being led into the waiting room. You weren’t sure how much time had passed while you sat there, thinking of pastries and little sandwiches, but your mother elbowed you in the ribs at some point.

“Pay attention,” she urged. “The guests are steadily rolling in. In a few minutes, you’ll have to meet with Prince Xeno and make your way to the balcony.”

Just like that, your nerves were back, doing all sorts of lovely tricks in your stomach. You keeled over and took a deep breath to compose yourself. It was fine. You could do this. No big deal. As long as you didn’t think about tripping. Just don’t… think about… tripping…

“[Name],” a voice called out.

“I’m gonna trip!” you squealed, burying your face in your palms. There was no reply, not at first, but you could hear your parents simultaneously drawing in a gasp. When you looked up, Xeno was staring down at you, his brows pinched together as if he was trying to figure out what the hell you were on about.

He narrowed his eyes. “Why are you going to trip?”

“Uh, no… never mind.” You stood up in a hurry, tried to ignore the exasperated looks your parents gave you, and took your place behind him. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Xeno just nodded, thankfully not asking any more questions. You followed in his steps and slowly made your way towards the door that would open up into the balcony area of the throne room. Your breath was catching in your throat. Even from this distance, you could hear the chatter of the hundreds of people gathered in the palace today. You nervously glanced towards Xeno, hoping that he might extend you his arm to hold onto, but he did nothing of the sort.

He gave you one last, mildly disinterested look as he gripped the door handle. “It sounds like my father has just started with the introductions. It’ll be any second now. You’re ready, yes?”

“I can do it,” you said, in a tiny voice that was fooling no one.

Xeno stared at you, a subtle smile blooming across his lips. “Try not to trip.”

“Why, you—!”

All at once, there was light, dazzlingly bright light. Compared to the dim hallway you’d been walking through, it was that much more blinding. You didn’t even have time to adjust because Xeno was already walking towards the edge of the balcony, and you knew you had to follow right beside him. At King William’s decree, everyone had gone silent, eager to lay eyes on the newest addition to the royal family. Even if they had been making noise, you wouldn’t have heard them; the blood was pounding too loudly in your ears.

You made it to the balcony overlooking the ballroom without tripping, which you promised to reward yourself for later. It was strange how quickly Xeno seemed to morph into his prince persona. He was cold and derisive at best, but seeing the powerful, authoritative way in which he regarded his subjects, you could tell that the had the makings of a king.

As for you? Well. You did just as your parents had instructed and put on your best smile while waving at everyone below. It was a silly, trivial act, but now everyone knew your face along with your name, and no one would ever treat you the same again.

The next few minutes were a blur, and truthfully, you hadn’t been paying much attention. After introducing yourself, you were able to take a seat near Xeno while the King finished off with the rest of his announcements.

Xeno turned towards you mid-way through the speech. “You were stiff as a board up there,” he remarked rudely.

“Ah. Thanks.”

You didn’t have the patience to pretend to mask your annoyance, so you settled for flipping him off in your head.

Finally, you were free.

If it wasn’t for the position you’d just acquired, you would have jumped to your feet and let out a cheer. You couldn’t do that, so you decided that the next best thing was to stuff your cheeks full of food while the rest of the guests mingled.

“Am I free to go grab a bite to eat?” you asked.

“You’re supposed to be by my side for most of the night,” Xeno said. Then, he shrugged, “but I don’t really care what you do. I’ll come find you if my father says we need to stay together.”

Aw. Your future husband was such a romantic.

You’d be lying if you said you cared, though. The food was waiting for you! It was all that had been getting you through this evening, and you were going to make sure to pair a few drinks with it as well.

“Oh, [Name], wait a second!”

It wasn’t Xeno that had called out to you, but rather his brother, Hyatt. You technically had yet to introduce yourself to him, since he’d been sitting near the back in silence during the King’s speech. Now that you were paying attention to him, he really was completely different from the rest of his family in terms of appearance. Rather than dark locks and a fierce crimson gaze, he had snow white hair and pale eyes that seemed to mirror the sea. He’d inherited the family’s devilishly good looks, but as far as resemblance, there really was none.

I can see why people might think he’s an illegitimate child.

“Hello, Prince Hyatt.” You bowed your head slightly. “It’s very nice to officially be meeting you. I apologize for not introducing myself earlier.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he smiled. “There wasn’t really a good time. I’m sure you must have been nervous, but you did a really good job out there.”

Contrary to his brother, he had a warm and friendly presence. You decided that you already liked him more.

You smiled back at him. “Thank you. I’m sure I came across a bit awkward, but I appreciate you saying that. Large gatherings like this must be second nature to you by now.”

“Well, kind of. They get old pretty quick. I couldn’t help but overhear earlier that you were going to get some food. Do you mind if I join you?”

“No, of course not. I’d love that.”

“Great! Come on,” he grinned, grabbing you by the hand, “I know all the spots where they’ll be circling with the hors d’oeuvres.”

You weren’t entirely sure how appropriate it was to be walking around holding the hand of your fiancé’s brother, but there was food involved, so you weren’t complaining. You also got the feeling that he could get away with a lot of things because he was a prince.

Hyatt led you forward, and you had to admit, his positive energy was fairly contagious. You smiled happily, already feeling a million times better than you had been earlier.

“Wait right here,” Hyatt said, suddenly stopping in place. “I’m going to go grab us a platter.”

You nodded and tried to make yourself look as scarce as possible, hoping that he would come back before any of the nobles tried to chat you up. But as you waited, you couldn’t shake the sense that someone was staring at you, and not in the “oh, it's so nice to meet you!” kind of way.

You turned around and found yourself looking back into deep, sapphire eyes. Immediately, you recognized her. Annalisa Tybalt. The previous candidate to be Xeno’s fiancée.

She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. The look on her face spoke for her. Her painted lips were tightly pressed together and her nose was scrunched up in disgust. She was more than angry. She was enraged.

And like the idiot you were, you smiled at her.

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