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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.

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universalzones · 1 year ago

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"Honey, you've got to lighten up a bit. There's no craziness going on here, not right now anyway, so take the chance to relax," Rouge said, placing her arms behind her head as she sat in her sun chair.

"I'll relax when I get back to my world and help my friends. Unlike you, I don't have the leisure to be lazing about and wait for a solution to magically show up." Rebel couldn't understand how this was another version of her as even before the Chaos Council she still was still an active member of society, not a common thief.

Rouge would lower her sun glass's a bit to look at her uptight counter part. "Look, the way I see it you have two options. Keep stressing out on how to get back while the other's look into it, or take such much needed R&R so you're in top shape when you get back. I won't force you, though it wouldn't hurt." She found it hard to believe that another version of her was so strict and uptight, though it made sense from what she's heard about their world.

Rebel would just stare at Rouge for a moment. "Fine, you have a point." If there was nothing she could do than conserving her strength was a wise course of action. The Resistance leader would sit on the second sun chair her counterpart brought, arms crossed. Tense at first, though very slowly began relax under the warmth of the sun.

Rouge figured she'd win Rebel over at one point or another, watching the other slowly relax. "There we go. How's the sun feel?" The thief asked, looking over at them.

Rebel would remain silent, as though she didn't hear the question, for about a minute at least. "It's, nice. It's been so long since I felt the warmth of the sun on my skin, I almost forgot what it felt like." Finally, the Resistance leader let herself fully relax, at least for now.

#universalzones #Rouge the Bat #Rebel #Rebel Rouge #Rouge #jewel loving thief #crack the yolk #two bats #ic #zone interactions

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tender-rosiey · 1 year ago

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MORE HUSBAND!SUKUNA PLSSSS (not forcing TvT) (not modern-)

tough love — ryomen sukuna x gn!reader

a/n: okay but like imagine living in a palace with this guy

your husband is sweet, but not in the traditional sense.

when you think of sweet, you think of nights spent with hushed whispers and mutual giggles, you think of flowers at your doorstep every single day.

you don’t think of a 7 foot something man, with the biggest scowl on his face, staring at you in the early morning and scaring the heebie-jeebies out of you.

but he is still sweet.

despite the blood staining his hands and his manic grin doing such acts, the same hands have the ability to hold you as gently as one would stroke a flower’s petal.

they’re able to cradle you and carry you to bed and tuck you in. sure, there is no goodnight kiss, but that’s because he doesn’t leave. when you rest, your husband stays awake on the look to make sure that no harm comes to you.

he is rough with what he does. still, you feel happiness about to overflow when, for example, he gets you jewelry he believes would suit you.

add to that, the fact that he personally puts them on you. you remember that one time he got back from his endeavor—terrorizing yet another village—and he greeted you with a box painted with gold and wrapped in velvet.

you took the box from his hands and opened. it revealed a very exquisite anklet with jewels of your favorite color. they are organized in a matter that you distinctly remember telling your husband about and how pretty that is to you.

you looked up to him giddily, “so you do pay attention!”

he takes the anklet from the box, grumbling, “shut up,” and despite his harsh tone and words, he kneels and puts the anklet on you. it’s a bit hard, considering his big hands and long nails, but he manages. he pulls back with a smirk, and you examine the anklet on your leg.

“I like it.”

“of course, you do; I chose it.”

he is an ass, but that same guy takes care of you when you’re sick—somehow. when news had spread that you’ve fallen ill, you expected that your husband would simply send the maids to your aid and the doctors to ensure your rapid and swift recovery.

instead, what you saw was the figure of your—scary—husband stood at your door. you peek from under the covers, a cough escaping your lips, “how can I help you, husband?”

he frowns down at you, “you look like shit.”

you start laughing, but it quickly turns into a coughing fit—his frown deepens—, “well—obviously! I am sick,” you try to get a look of what’s behind him, “where are the maids and doctors?”

he sits on the bed, right by your side, and rests a hand on your forehead, “I am not letting their filthy hands touch you,” a sigh threatens to escape him, when he feels your temperature, “you’re foolish.”

you huff, “I can’t control how sick I get, you know!”

“well, you could’ve avoided this, if you had listened to me when I told you not to play in the rain.”

the memory brings a dopey smile to your face.

the rain was falling freely but gently. the wind was blowing just right. and your husband was watching you, under the door frames so he doesn’t get wet. he called for you, of course, but you’re a free spirit and wanted to enjoy the outdoors a bit more.

you’re never confided in the walls of the palace, but it’s nice to feel like a rebel every once in a while even if it ends up with you being sick in bed.

he sees the little kick of your feet, “but, it was fun, right? I even managed to get you to stand in the rain with me!”

yes, he did, in the end and after much whining, go in the rain with you. he was simply standing there, but it’s the thought that counts, right? and because he is the king of curses, he didn’t get sick, but he did get stuck taking care of you.

it’s a win in his book—even if he hates seeing you all frail like that—but he would never tell you that.

he shoves a cup of water to your lips, and grumbles, “shut up and drink.”

your goes up to hold the cup, but his glare makes you slowly lower them back down. you get the memo that he wants to take care of you, to the fullest. he slowly helps you drink all of the water.

so you relax the entire night, letting him nurse you back to health. he is a bit clumsy throughout it, and you understand it’s because he never truly cared for someone before nor did someone care for him in a way so tender and gentle.

you think it’s cute: his determination mixed with a hint of roughness and cluelessness.

you want to giggle and chuckle at some of the things he does like how he was confused about which medicine you were supposed to take and at what hour.

or like how—despite his enormous strength—he was unable to take the cover of the bottle of herbs off, but you’re sure he would either glare at you or leave you to suffer alone for an hour.

so yeah, he stays with you the entire time you’re sick, night and day, never leaving your chambers. even when he needed something like medicine or a wet cloth, he would send the maids.

he stays by your side till you’re back to your feet with a smile on your face.

and when you’re dinning on the very long and gigantic table, you look intently at your husband’s face. he reminds you of something with his permanent scowl and grumpily attitude.

he notices your gaze and groans, “what is it now?”

you gasp as you finally come to the long awaited realization.

a tiger.

your husband is a tiger, one hell of a grumpy tiger.

“your face looks stupider than usual; what’s up with you now?”

an asshole tiger.

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna ryoumen x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna fanfic #ryomen x reader

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 9 months ago

Text

To Love You

Pairing | wanted!Jimin x princess!Reader

Word Count | 16,1k

Warnings | +18, angst, smut, Jimin is a wanted outlaw, mention of dead parents and conspiracy, the new king is a slimy being, mention of hatred, painful feelings and abandonment, many tears, Jimin is allergic to romantic feelings 💀, murders (sword, poison, torture…), attempted rape, lots of kissing and touching, breast worship, love marks, talks about having a baby, impregnation kink, sex in the woods, virginity loss, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, licking pussy, forcing orgasm, mild fantasy!AU toward the end, this is not for minors.

⤷ Summary | You have been separated from your beloved and your kingdom is under the rule of a heartless man, but all is not lost.

➢ Author's Note | I wrote this story because after Dark Moon I found it hard to part with Jimin, and at the same time I wanted to bring some sweetness to heal my heart a little, I hope you enjoy this story ❤️

ps: all images used for the banner belong exclusively to me!

Permanent Taglist: @katherine-kookie @btsuga-d @reallygenerouskoala @velvet-stardust2002, @takemeaway5402 @angelicsmilesworld @pantara @ke1k029 @btssimpjaneth

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"The multi-murderer Park Jimin here, the rebel leader who has been sowing terror in our lands for years, stealing from our families and killing our children, is sentenced to capital punishment, tomorrow at dawn the gallows will await his head."

A buzz rises in the room, all the attention of those present is focused on the commander of His Majesty's Royal Guards, the man is reading an official communiqué, with every word your heart receives a painful, deafening stinging.

Your eyes are steady on the blond-haired boy, kneeling in the middle of the hall, his mischievous gaze on the king, your uncle.

"The condemned man will be escorted immediately to his cell, where he will remain until the following morning, in the hope that he will repent of his deplorable deeds and ask God for forgiveness."

The boy’s grin deepens, in his ice-colored eyes that contributed to his fame, shines an amused spark, you know what it means… it’s that attitude of his that made you fall in love with him, your Jimin.

"Deplorable is forgetting the poor people you have killed for your own interests, mine was only justice, my lords...there should be someone else in my place, you all know that," the barb aimed directly at the king makes everyone present hold their breath. including you.

To address a tyrant ruler like your uncle in that way is simply insane, by your side you see the man in question clenching his fists and narrowing his gaze, but he dare not go on a rampage, not in front of his subjects, at least.

"Take him to his cell, that's where such a beast deserves to be," the king hisses, and when the guards badly pull Jimin to his feet, he finally looks at you-it's only an instant, but it's enough for you to notice his expression change from mischievous to wistful.

You barely hold back the tears as they take him away, unable to say or do anything, you promised him, you promised him you would do nothing foolish or dangerous, but your heart clenched in a painful grip calls out to him and longs to feel his embrace again, but yours is a secret that must be kept silent and hidden.

You feel a hand wrap itself around your shoulders and you shudder, watching your uncle's dark eyes stare at you suspiciously, the crown jewels shining wickedly on his head, as if mocking you, a princess forgotten by her people.

"Is there something you would like to say, my niece?" his words creep disgustingly down your spine, you want to spit in his face, but you hold back.

You clutch your robes in your hands, imprinting your best smile on your lips.

"No, Your Highness, I am calmer now, finally that outlaw has been caught" uttering those words kills you inside, it is before you the real outlaw, the one who plotted against your father to usurp his throne, you are alive only because you are a sweet and important pawn in your uncle's game, if you want to conquer a new country without shedding blood, you need a precious bargaining chip, no?

And in your veins runs the pure blood of a princess, an opportunity too tempting for your uncle who is already itching to give you away in marriage to who knows what spoiled, deadbeat prince.

You sense a gentler hand pulling you away, it is your wet nurse, sweet old Harun, she curtseys to your uncle and when he turns his attention to the other nobles in the room, the woman finally speaks, "Come, my lady, you must rest now" you let yourself be dragged away from her like a shattered rag doll, once this woman could patch you up, now you doubt that playing another of her games to cheer you up will have the desired effect, the love of your life will be executed tomorrow.

"It's over, Harun," you say with a sob stuck in your throat, "It's really over..." Harun stares at you with tears in her eyes.

After all, she witnessed your love; before he was an outlaw, Jimin was the son of a knight of the king, one of your father's best friends, you grew up together, you watched him practicing with his sword in the imperial gardens, hidden among the hedges as a princess should not have done, he loved practicing with you during dance lessons, you were very close and Harun had never dared to push you away, aware of the importance of a young love like yours.

After your uncle killed the king, Jimin's father rebelled by not accepting the new ruler and found death awaiting him, his family was stripped of its noble title and robbed of all wealth, throwing Jimin into a spiral of hatred and revenge.

He found ways to stir up trouble for the new king and his court by looting their homes or killing important members of their families, you on your side knew he was alive because of the whispers coming from the servants, with regret you realize that you saw his handsome face again as he was kneeling at the new king's feet and it will probably be the last time as well.

Harun gives you time to enter your bedroom, "My lady, Jimin never blamed you for what happened to him."

You smile softly, "I know, he... he is good, Harun, Jimin is good."

The elderly woman nods understandingly, it is when you sit on the bed that you notice something. Before you leave, Harun deliberately lets something slip among your things; it's a key.

"I hope you can both be happy, princess," she says before closing the door behind her.

With slow, tentative steps you reach for the key, you look around fearfully, almost expecting your uncle to pop out from somewhere, ready to accuse you of treachery, but when you grab the key to the castle dungeons nothing of what you imagined happens, you look out your window, the moon in the sky is high and motherly, almost inviting you to follow your heart, and with a salty smile you clutch the key to your chest.

Just for the thoughts invading your mind you deserve condemnation, but what do you have to lose now? If the love of your life dies tomorrow at dawn, then you will stand by his side, not among cruel people looking down on him.

Take a last look at your room, you spent a wonderful childhood within those walls; on the bed wrapped in tulle and silk you embroidered with your mother, on the carpet with your family crest you played while Harun braided your hair, good-naturedly reprimanding you if you spoke a little too loudly and smiling sweetly you remember at the window a young and cunning Jimin climbing a tree to join you in your rooms, that's how your first and only kiss happened, it was a light and chaste touch, but it was enough to leave you with your heart wrapped in joy.

Then it was all over, no more games, laughter or shy hugs at every corner of the castle. The new king ruined everything.

The night welcomes you and slips with you as you move like a shadow within the castle walls, after years of dancing your step is so light that the heels of your shoes do not make the slightest noise, you clutch the light shawl you have carried with you over your shoulders, shivering at the draught that penetrates through the draughts of the dungeons, you have found no guards as you pass, they are all focused on protecting the king and his apartments, the fear of possible revenge from Jimin's men is too vivid for them.

You descend the stone steps covering your nose with your shawl, the smell of mold is strong and makes your eyes water, drops of water whose origin is unknown to you fall from the ceiling, it is so dark that you are forced to take a torch from the wall and use it to light your way, the flame dances sinuously with your every movement and you finally access the last part of the long and winding corridor. A sickening smell of urine overtakes you as you approach the filthy cells, Jimin is locked up in such a place, another wicked way of trying to humiliate him.

There are five cells in all, in front of them you notice a wooden table with two chairs, that's where you immediately go, take the bottle of wine and swallow, you have to.

It's something you've always thought of reserving for your uncle someday, but Jimin's life is more important, so you firmly detach the thin chain you've been wearing around your neck since your father's death from your neck, you look one last time at the silver pendant with your family crest, then you open it with a small click and its contents are revealed, you throw a few pieces of the wolfsbane root into the wine, hoping that the guards will drink it before they realize what had been done, and with a shuddering breath you hide the necklace in the pockets of your dress.

Then, as if you hadn't just poisoned the bottle, you slowly make your way to the dirty rooms enclosed by old iron bars, you illuminate the cramped space of each cell by the torchlight flame, you notice beds of dirty, old straw and dark stains on the wall, you don't even want to imagine what it could be.

You notice a soft humming, it is gentle and sweet, you swallow recognizing the melody, he is there.

You approach the last cell with your heart in your throat, you haven't seen him in years, you don't know exactly how he will react to your presence, you repeat Harun's words in your head as you use the key she gave you to open the cell, the noise is creepy as you open the rusted iron door, the shadows inside are even more so.

You take a step in there, your feet meet more straw, it is so dark that you can only rely on the torch you clutch in your hand and the moonlight filtering through a tiny barred window, you try to look around but suddenly the flame goes out, the loss of light provokes in you the instinct to scream, but one hand rushes to close your mouth while another grabs you by the side, holding you to a warm body you didn't think you could touch again.

You shudder when the tip of his nose lightly brushes your neck, and you are inflamed to realize that he is inhaling your fragrance. You feel him smile against your skin before leaving a kiss on it that makes you lose several beats and your hair stand up pleasantly.

"What's a princess like you doing in a place like this... with someone like me?" he whispers in your ear as the tempting devil would, you'd be lying if you said he had no effect on you, your mind and body are hopelessly drawn to him.

His hand releases your mouth and reaches down to your neck, tightening it in a deliberately weak grip, you lick your lips before responding.

"I'm here to set you free, Jimin," you say softly, this makes him snort in amusement.

"Set me free? Oh, Y/N... I'm not afraid to die" you tremble when he says your name and turn in his arms, you try to look into his eyes but the only thing you catch is the dangerous glint in them.

"I do, I am afraid! I don't want you to die, Jimin..." you whisper in a broken voice and finally allow yourself to embrace him, rest your head on his warm chest and although he doesn't reciprocate, he does nothing to stop you.

It's a strange feeling you feel, he left you he was a skinny little boy full of rage, now he is a man facing death head on, but you are not ready to let him go one more time.

"And I don't want you to be here when the guards come back, this is high treason to the crown, Y/N," he growls looking at the open cell door and clutching your shoulders, he wants you to leave, you know.

"Do you think I care? No, Jimin... I stopped being a princess when my father and mother died, when you were forced to leave and left me alone" you say the last word bitterly, "If I die saving you, I will accept my fate."

He slowly pushes you back, each step brings you closer to the light filtering through the small window, and when you end up with your back to the wall, you can finally see clearly the face of the man he has become and your breath catches, his peculiar eyes hold a torment that does not shine through in his brazen voice, you raise a hand to his face and shyly brush the line of his jaw, his golden locks shine under the moonlight glow, it is shocking.

"You don't even know what you're saying, you're a silly princess who's read too many books and now thinks she can save an outlaw" he laughs softly shaking his head, "Go back to your room, Y/N and forget me" when he turns away from you and you lose the little hold you have on him, the world comes crashing down on you.

Forget him? He has no idea how many years you spent waiting for him, hoping he would take you away from your uncle's clutches, he never came to get you and yet you never stopped hoping, you shake your head looking at him sorrowfully. It is easy for him to say such a thing, after all, he has already left you in his past, a past he has turned his back on.

"You're probably right, I'm a silly princess who has read too many books and now wants to save an outlaw, but I won't forget you," you hiss feeling a sudden surge of anger, because if you gave in to the sadness that now clutches your heart you would find yourself crying on your knees and he doesn't deserve that, "It may have been very easy for you to make me disappear from your mind and heart, but don't think we're the same in this."

He does not answer you, you know he is gritting his teeth by the rhythmic click of his jaw, you thought you had found him and instead you are looking at a stranger.

"You've grown ... and you've changed," you whisper before turning toward the exit with a chill in your body, "The cell is open and the guards are focused on protecting the king, you pretty much have the coast clear."

Before you can leave, his voice stops you.

"What will happen to you? Every action has a repercussion, princess."

You smile without amusement; it's ridiculous how he avoids facing your feelings by pretending they don't exist.

"Don't waste your time on me and go, it's not even certain that they will find out," you sigh with one last look at the man who stole your heart and soul before freezing you, he now has his hands clasped around the bars of the window, as if he refuses to look at you. It is stupid what you are about to do, but you need one last test.

You let your shawl slide to the ground; if it is still in the straw tomorrow, you will be condemned in Jimin's place; if, on the other hand, the guards do not find it, it means the boy has taken it with him. You know you are being selfish, but you wish a part of you would stay with him, even though he would probably like not to think of you again.

"Jimin!" one of his friends notices him, and relief is immediate in the group.

They welcome him with open arms as he collapses to the ground, tired but happy to still have his head attached to his neck.

"We were already prepared to intervene during the public trial, but this changes everything! How did you escape?" Hoseok asks him with wide eyes, Jimin brings a hand to his damp and dirty hair, seriously in need of a bath after spending a night running through dirty streets and dirt.

"I was helped ... by a friend, let's say," he replies through clenched teeth, gratefully taking the water bottle Yoongi is handing him.

"A friend? Some servant girl you've had fun with in the past?" asks Taehyung smoothly, receiving a blow on the head from Namjoon.

It is Seokjin who notices the shawl that Jimin has tied around his waist, masterfully takes it before the boy can even notice and ignores the latter's protests.

"I'd say a princess," he says with a smile, spreading the fabric and displaying the royal family crest under the sunlight, "I knew it, she-"

"Stop. I know what you are going to say and I urge you to go no further," Jimin growls taking back your shawl, "She belongs in that castle."

"Kidnapping a princess is easy, so what's your problem?" in a not at all gentle way, Jungkook voices the question that has always crossed everyone's mind.

"Her place is not in that castle, everyone in the kingdom knows that ever since Cobra killed his brother and sister-in-law, he wants to use his niece as a bargaining chip with all countries provided with an heir" Namjoon looks at him sternly, but Jimin sighs.

"She is a princess, that is her duty."

He clutches your shawl tightly before getting up from the ground and heading to his tent, your place is not by his side, you are safer in that castle, whoever went against that foolish new king met his death, he will never forget the life in his father's eyes that faded away, nor the flames that burned his house and the king's guards that captured his mother and brothers, you will not end up the same way because of his selfishness, if leaving you by your uncle's side will preserve your life, then he will give up on you.

He clutches tightly at the fabric that still carries your sweet scent of vanilla and cookies, it was devastating to have had you next to him again without being able to hold you as he would have liked, for a moment the memories of childhood lulled him tenderly, but you are two different people now, he is different and must let you go, it is for your own good he thinks as he ties your shawl around his duffle bag, trying not to think back to the pain in your voice as you left the cell.

Someday, when you have a family of your own, you will understand the reason behind his every action.

The walls tremble at the king's shouts, he is furious.

Everyone in the hall looks at each other nervously, you keep your vacant and tired gaze, it has been three days since Park Jimin's escape and your uncle shows no sign of ending his fury, he has executed five guards and two nobles of his court suspected of helping Jimin with the escape. The reason is the poison found in the wine that killed the sentries who were on guard that night; it is a plant found only in the royal gardens and only the king and the nobles of his court have access to it.

"Who dared to betray the king?" is the question circulating among those in the hall as you crinkle the skirt of your gown with nervous fingers, not regretting helping Jimin, but breathing the heavy air of these days is not easy.

"Who do you think could have done it, my niece?" when your uncle whispers the question in your ear you stiffen.

"I don't have enough evidence to accuse anyone, Your Majesty, the only thing I can say is that it must have been a fool with no conscience," you reply in as firm a tone as possible, your uncle scrutinizing you from head to toe before nodding.

"Yeah, a fool..." he hisses shifting his gaze to his nobles, out of the corner of your eye you notice Harun looking at you from the front door with sadness.

She expected Jimin to take you away with him, and truthfully you had hoped for that at first too, but you can't force a person to love you, it's a good thing things turned out this way, you can finally stop chasing a ghost and wishing for something you will never have.

When that day's reunion ends, you can finally be free to wander around the castle, what you don't expect is to find the king in your safe place, your mother's private little garden.

"Sire..." you whisper strangely, the king never dared to enter there, everything about those lush plants and flowers carries the memory of your mother, a beautiful and sensitive woman, but also very strong. She did not shy away from her brother-in-law's sword when he pointed it at her chest.

"Y/N, you are doing a very good job here," he nods in the direction of the white lilies in the height of their bloom, you do nothing to approach the man, you have always discreetly driven away his presence, but it is one thing to leave his halls, another to leave a place you consider your own, this may make him too suspicious.

He, however, seems not to notice your lack of response, too busy studying the many plants in the small garden.

"Go ahead and sit down and read one of your books, nephew...I'm just here to find some peace...I confess, Park Jimin's escape troubles me," he casts you a little glance and you clear your throat.

"You are the king, he cannot harm you in here, Sire."

The man nods weakly, but still looks tense.

"Oh, I know I am the king, my dear niece, but the idea that a traitor could live within the walls of my castle does not let me sleep at night."

You grit your teeth.

His castle? The castle he forcibly wrested from you and your family?

This is another humiliation to which you cannot respond as you actually want to, you swallow the knot in your throat.

"Precisely why I'm so disappointed... in you" you squint, possible... "Y/N, I kept you alive when I took the throne years ago, you were such a pretty and malleable child, but maybe not enough" he continues before shaking off the dark cloak and pulling out something that locks your breath in your lungs.

In his fist he clutches your necklace, the one that contained the poison and that you thought you had hidden in the sewn folds of your dress, you don't know what to say, so you try to pretend.

"Oh! You found it, I've been looking for it for days," you exclaim in the most surprised tone you can imitate, but the man doesn't seem to be playing along with you.

"Don't lie to me, Y/N, this necklace was found inside the cell where Park Jimin was locked up, I had heard rumors about your childish feelings for that outlaw, but to go that far? To go so far as to betray me? I spared your life, I never denied you and your title of princess! I raised you as if you were my own daughter!" he shouts, violently pulling off a wolfsbane root hidden among the lilies.

Something snaps inside you at his insinuations, an anger you've been hatching for years that has never found an outlet.

"Raised as a daughter? You killed my father and mother for a crown! You put power and wealth first, you deprived me of a family, you did the same to Jimin and claim to pass as a victim now! You are a vile monster!"

Your uncle is quick to draw the same sword with which he had remorselessly severed your father's head, he points it at your throat and it is so close that you feel the blade press against your skin enough to scratch it, you inhale deeply trying to block the fear that makes your heart gallop against your rib cage.

"I am the king, I don't allow a foolish girl to judge my actions, I realize I was wrong to spare you that night...but what should I do with you now? Should I kill you now or..." a mad light flashes in his eyes, "Of course... a condemned will be there, you will take the place of your beloved Jimin," he hisses in your face, a slow smile makes room on your cheeks contrary to what the man expected.

He expected you to burst into tears and fall to your knees begging him to spare you, but you will not, you will honor your mother's memory.

"You're just a coward," you whisper amused, at which the man's face turns red with fury.

"Guards! Guards!" he shouts at that point, six men enter by breaking through the glass door from which you enter to reach your mother's garden, shards of glass surround you along with the soldiers, you have no escape and so you merely chill the king with your gaze, "Lock her up in the highest and most isolated tower of the castle, I sentence the princess to death for helping the dangerous fugitive Park Jimin escape from my prisons!"

"Your day will come, too, Uncle," you hiss furiously, "And when you find him before your eyes, you will fall to your knees begging him to spare your life, but he will not be so merciful," you announce proudly, not needing to utter Jimin's name to alert your uncle, the way he suddenly whitens is already an answer for you, you keep smiling as an austere-looking man tugs you badly, forgetting that he has a princess on his hands, or maybe they don't care, it's the king who matters to them.

As you are thrown to the floor inside what will be your final chamber, darkness engulfs you once the door is closed.

You cough hard involuntarily inhaling the air thick with dust and dirt, your eyes burn and you do not know whether from tears or from the irritants in the room, the only thing you are sure of is that tomorrow your entire kingdom will know of your death sentence.

They will probably learn of that news with indifference, wondering why the king did not kill you earlier, along with the rest of your family.

You often ask yourself that too, if he had killed you then, you would have died basking in the thought that Jimin loved you and would remember you forever.

"Let's move, we need to refuel in town before we leave," says Seokjin starting to saddle his horse, Namjoon on the other hand is busy cataloging all their stuff to avoid losing anything after yet another move.

"Taehyung's not back yet?" complains Hoseok snortingly, picking up the "stupid guy's" bag, Jungkook shrugs in response.

They sent Taehyung to check the situation in town, moving in a group would have been dangerous; it's always better to check one at a time that the coast is clear.

"Strange, he should be here already," Jimin whispers as he squints, their momentary safe place in the heart of the forest is now almost completely clear, only Taehyung is missing.

"Maybe he's found something interesting," murmurs Yoongi crossing his arms and staring at an unspecified point toward the horizon, everyone staring at him in confusion before hearing Taehyung's voice.

"Jimin!" exclaimed Taehyung coming galloping in a breathless gallop, Hoseok cursing.

"I hope no one saw you running and screaming like that, you asshole," he growls, but Taehyung overtakes him with wide eyes and a paper clutched in his hand.

"Jimin, it's about the princess!" silence instantly replaces the protests of the others, Jimin stiffens as he stares guardedly at the paper Taehyung is clutching so desperately, "That fool of a king-" is interrupted by his friend who snatches the flyer from his hands to read it himself.

A boulder falls into his stomach and the ground is as if shaking beneath his feet, the king has sentenced you to death, you will end up hanging with a noose around your neck for helping him escape, he clutches the piece of paper tightly, shaking with fury.

You should not have helped him, you should not have risked your life for someone like him, when he thinks of how he treated you before you left he feels only immense shame.

"We should have kidnapped her when I proposed it," Jungkook sighs before saddling his horse as well.

"Saving her is the more appropriate term," Yoongi corrects him, adjusting his leather vest before turning to Jimin, "What do you want to do now?"

Jimin lets out a laugh full of malice, his adamantine eyes shining as he observes the king's seal in the communiqué.

"Are you still convinced that leaving her in that castle is the only way to keep her safe?" asks Namjoon sarcastically, Jimin shakes his head.

"In light of the new events, I would say no," he sighs reluctantly, handing the communiqué to Hoseok.

"The execution is in two days, we have to find a way to get into the castle and find her."

"He probably locked her up in the most isolated tower, he did the same with her mother before he killed her, it's as if he enjoys seeing them wallowing in fear," the blond man forcefully clutches a twig picked from the ground before snapping it in two, wishing he had the king's neck in his hands.

"Now with all those guards circling her it will be harder to kidnap a princess, but nothing is impossible for us," sneers Jungkook, but Jimin doesn't seem thrilled at the idea of having you back by his side, filling him with unease and remorse, reminding him of all the years he was absent and didn't really care how you might feel sitting side by side with the monster who killed your parents.

Someone squeezes his shoulder in comfort, it is Jin who is looking at him with a smile, "Hey, if you explain everything to her she will understand, from what you told me, she seems like a smart and intelligent girl."

Jimin grins slightly and nods.

"She is."

You look out the small tower window with tears in your eyes, you don't know how many hours you have been crying now, what your uncle did was deplorable and cruel.

You were allowed to sleep with your sweet old Harun beside you, you had to imagine that behind that concession was the cruel promise of a snake.

‘With the princess dead, there is no need for a wet nurse anymore’ is what the king said before ordering the guards to carry Harun away to the outside, exactly in the direction of your window, before they began to slaughter her amidst the screams of both of you, you shook the bars at the window of the hope of breaking them and reaching her, but it had all been in vain, Harun died almost immediately, she preferred not to withstand the blows to spare you the suffering of watching her fight like an animal for who knows how long.

Your throat burns as you sob, her body is still there, no one has gone to cover her, they are simply waiting for the ravens to arrive.

You slowly fall to your knees letting go of your grip on the bars, your hands are encrusted with blood and your nails are broken, you clutch your hands to your chest remembering your wet nurse who apologized to you the night before for encouraging you to free Jimin, repeating numerous times that she firmly believed you would run away together.

You feel guilty, perhaps if you had not requested Harun's presence, she would not have come into the king's sights, you find yourself wishing the hours would pass quickly, you do not want to be alone with your thoughts, they are too scary, death in comparison seems like a sweet promise.

Suddenly you hear the creak of the old door opening, for a moment - your despite yourself - you brighten up, believing you'll find Jimin ready to help you, but the dream soon shatters once again, it's not Jimin, it's one of the guards, and then you frown, what is he doing here? The king has expressly ordered that no one should speak to you again.

"What do you want, sir?" you ask with a strange feeling in your stomach, the guard sneers.

"A change of room, the king has ordered it," you stare at the open door, then back at the guard, it's a boy who looks familiar to you, he has black hair and droopy eyes.

You don't ask any further questions, you get up from the floor and shaking off the dust you let him grab you by the arm, though you grit your teeth in anger you dare not say anything, it's still better than having chains on your wrists and ankles.

He takes you outside urgently, you don't see the other guards and it makes you suspicious, you remember there were at least three outside the door, what is going on?

It is when you get to the fourth flight of stairs that you feel a violent grip on your shoulder before you are forced into a small, dark room, perhaps a closet used by the servants to store items, you scream with all your might, but the man's slimy mouth immediately covers yours, it is disgusting as you try to force his tongue between your lips and with a firm conk in your throat you bite it off with all your might.

This makes him flinch away with a yelp, it's dark and you can't see anything, you can only imagine him probing his tongue with his fingers to make sure it's still attached, you spit out his blood shuddering.

"You know..." he begins panting, "I've never been with a princess, I must say you are much better than servants," he laughs like a maniac returning again to his intent, trying to lift your dress skirts, but every time he tries to sneak his hand in, he always finds a kick to hit it badly.

With your heart engaged in a mad rush, you try to defend yourself as best you can, you've never been in a situation like this, but you won't let this happen, ever.

You desperately grope for something behind you, his wine-smelling breath twisting your guts and when he comes to lick your neck you manage to hold on to something cold and spiky, you don't even need to ask for forgiveness for what you are about to do, you don't even feel a hint of guilt as you start hitting him viciously wherever you can, with a snarl he tries to block your hands but you manage to knock him unconscious with one last blow.

You open the door to the small room to escape and the man's body collapses to the floor, you finally recognize him, he is the son of the guards' captain, and a rush of satisfaction fills your chest as you think back to what they did to Harun, then you suddenly realize you are free.

You don't know exactly where you're going to go, but you have a chance to escape and you're not going to miss a golden opportunity like that.

To enter the castle they used an old and dense series of underground tunnels leading to every corner of the palace, to be on the safe side Jimin chose the one that would lead them to the kitchens populated only by servants at certain times.

"Well, we're in," Hoseok snorts, shaking cobwebs from his clothes in disgust, "Now what?"

"We should split up and check every single tower, just in case," proposes Seokjin nabbing an apple from the basket in the large kitchen, Jimin looks around wistfully, brushing against the massive old wooden table he remembers all the afternoons spent with you stealing cookies with the complicity of Harun and the cook, with the old housekeeper always at your heels repeating to you to go back to the lessons with the riding teacher.

"Be careful, the castle is swarming with soldiers," the blond warns them before going on his way, refusing to take anyone else with him.

He moves through the shadows of the palace, making sure to avoid every corner illuminated by the light of the flashlights hanging on the walls of almost every corridor, his stride is light despite the leather boots he is wearing, he is getting closer and closer to the throne room and he shouldn't, he is there to save you, but... if he kills the king you will ascend to the throne.

He tries to calm his breathing, the idea of coming face to face again with the man responsible for his downfall is too much for him, it would be delightful to sever the head from his neck and proclaim a new ruler, one man's death would be enough to end both of their nightmares.

Before he can even really realize it, he has reached the vicinity of the throne room, hidden behind a secluded corner he watches the guards lurking at each corner of the door.

Opening his palm he slowly slides a dagger down his arm to his wrist, grasps the handle foretasting the moment when he will plunge the blade into the living flesh of the two soldiers in the king's service, one of them yawns sonorously and keeps his eyes almost completely closed, receiving a shove from the other.

"Hey, I'm going for a check-up, try not to fall asleep as usual, you boar," he growls before putting his hand on the sword hilt and walking away looking around.

Jimin sneers as he licks his lower lip, drops his cloak hood and calmly approaches the displeased man.

"Why do I always have to stay on guard?" he hears him mutter, "That prick really turns my-" the words stop in the middle of his throat while Jimin is cutting it, it is such a smooth movement his that it now seems remarkably natural.

The man doesn't resist, he moans in a hushed voice as he collapses to the ground accompanied by the blond man who doesn't mind the blood smeared on his cloak, the stench of alcohol the soldier exudes, he can swear he was too drunk to try to react in any other way, everything seems to be going in his favor and he can't help but bask in the pleasure of what is about to take place.

When he enters the great throne room, he cannot help but think of the time when he found himself kneeling before the king in a humiliating position, but that night everything will be reversed.

The young man remembers the walls finished in gold and silver, but the frescoes proclaiming King Cobra as the victor are new, depicting hunting scenes and valiant battles to feed the man's narcissistic side, but they are all lies, Jimin knows and so does Cobra himself.

The king's back is turned and he is holding his hands behind his back, he is carefully watching something from the high windows of the throne room, perhaps he does not sense the presence creeping behind him or simply ignores it, the fact is that when Jimin points his sword at his back, the man does not move an inch, he remains ice cold.

"I knew you would come back for her, Jimin," there is an amused note in his voice, Jimin thins his gaze.

"For her? I came back to kill you," the boy growls, pressing the gleaming blade harder.

"Um..." the man brings a hand to his face to smooth his long beard, "So you don't care about Y/N or what might happen to her at this very moment."

A trace of insecurity quickly passes through Jimin's icy eyes, he grits his teeth before uttering the words he would not want left his lips, "Exactly, I'm just here to settle a score."

"Oh, well ... then, before you settle this unfinished score, why don't you enjoy the show with me?" the sardonic question awakens Jimin's sixth sense, as he lifts his gaze over the king's shoulder and toward the stained glass windows, just outside the garden that would later lead inside the bramble forest.

Immediately he feels the blood freeze in his veins, he rolls his eyes and tries to keep his calm demeanor, but inside he is dying.

You are there.

You're running toward the forest with a soldier behind you gaining more and more ground, you're too tired and petite to outrun him, you won't make it.

"So what? Will you take my life and satisfy your revenge or will you run to save the princess in danger?" chuckles Cobra, Jimin hisses strengthening his grip and tearing at the king's gaudy robes with the tip of his blade, he knows what he has to do, the answer is so obvious, but letting go of such a being is unthinkable for him, unbearable.

With a snarl he pushes the king away, who rolls badly to the ground, and before he can even comprehend what has just happened, Jimin puts his sword to his throat, the blade shining under the dim light of the candles and longing for the young man to go forward, to pierce the flesh of that worm and sever his head from the rest of his body, but all that does not happen.

Jimin's eyes are now as dark as darkness, he uncovers his teeth like a snarling wolf, "I will return, Your Majesty... and when you see me again, you will pray for God to save you, for I will have no mercy on your dark soul," he hisses, hurling a slash toward the king, then heading quickly and in a blind fury toward the exit of the hall.

Cobra with wide eyes grazes his own face, slowly a wound opens under his left eye and blood stains his hands.

You hiss in pain with every thorn that sticks in your legs, your dress is torn in several places and you try to catch your breath as you pray that the soldier will not find you.

You have ended up in the bramble forest so feared in your kingdom and every movement of the wild plants that inhabit it makes you tremble with terror, everything is dark and cold, you can only hear the cry of the owls that watch your silent struggle mocking you.

You manage to crawl painfully behind a large and imposing tree, lift your skirt and observe the pitiful condition of your legs, bite your lower lip with tears in your eyes, your skin is full of scratches and blood, but you can still run.

You try to pick yourself up, but noises of broken branches block your every movement, you stand with bated breath as someone wanders through the trees.

"Come here, little flower... let's go back to your room," you hear him humming with amusement, "I don't know how you got out, but you won't be punished, you're still a princess after all."

You tremble with cold and fear, it is obvious that the man is not telling the truth, you have seen your uncle's men act before and you know they know no kindness or mercy.

"Our sweet..." you frown as you follow the man's footsteps with your ears, you can't make out which direction he is coming from, "Princess..." you see something moving quickly out of the corner of your eye to your right, you spontaneously throw yourself to the left to avoid it, believing it to be the guard, but to your horror you realize it is a small fox, "... Y/N! " you scream with all your might when hands yank you away, you manage to free yourself only because the man's grip is weak, at which point you run away again.

"Run, princess, run! I'll find you again anyway!" he laughs excitedly at the idea of hunting after months locked in the castle protecting the king's life.

You are tired, your eyesight is getting more and more fatigued, you just want everything to be over as soon as possible. You don't even know where you might go in case you escape the man, you will always be hunted down by the king and his array of soldiers, the idea of giving up everything and accepting the end you will make crosses your mind, even if it means saying goodbye to Jimin for good.

Bramble bushes once again block your way, they stick to your skin and dress, they seem to be on the side of your assailant, you can no longer escape, it's over.

"Gotcha, princess" you feel his heavy breath on your neck, his arms grip you tightly before he lifts you up by weight and throws you into the shaggy, dry grass, "Look at you... actually you don't look like a princess anymore, you look like a dirty peasant girl" he chuckles, kneeling down in front of you, he touches your hair and you glower at him.

"Don't touch me, you dirty mangy dog" you growl, slapping his hand, the man's expression changes, it is no longer cheerful, now he looks resentful.

"You have such peasant language, your mother didn't live long enough to teach you manners, but I'll teach you a good lesson," he says before lifting a hand, ready to slap you in the face.

As your wide eyes stare at the man's heavy hand, your ears feel something move across the grass and stomp on it, then the sound of a slash lashing the air and suddenly you are free, the man falls to the side holding his neck but desperately reaching for the dagger hidden in his leather belt amid curses and expletives.

"Jimin..." you whisper as you see a golden flash in the darkness of the forest, the shadow falls hard on your assailant and you find yourself forcefully closing your eyes to avoid looking at that gruesome spectacle, you listen in disgust to the intense barks of the dying man.

Then everything falls silent.

You feel Jimin's presence approaching your huddled figure on the ground and you don't know how to act.

He has certainly saved your life, but he has just killed a man and you are the granddaughter of the king who took everything away from him; he is no longer the Jimin of when you were an innocent child.

"Are you all right?" he kneels at your side with a certain formality and coldness in his tone of voice, as if trying to keep his distance, hurting you.

You slowly rise up avoiding looking him in the eye, "I'm alive, so yeah... I'm fine," you whisper dimly, hissing when you try to stand up and your legs resume burning painfully, you clench your flayed fingers into small fists and when he notices them he cannot forbid himself a barely concealed dry breath.

"One moment, let me see," he offers, already grabbing a flap of your torn dress, instantly freezing when he meets your eyes wide with embarrassment.

What he was about to do is disgraceful as well as incredibly intimate.

"It's nothing, I can still walk... can you help me reach the village? I might find someone willing to let me board by ship," you ask gritting your teeth, the forest finally gains some light and you can make out the young man's surprised expression.

Your gaze falls on his black robes, although it is not very clear you understand that the darker stains correspond to the blood of the man he has just killed and to whom you dare not even cast a glance, you swallow wondering why apart from your disgust at the blood, it does not bother you at all.

"I am here to save you, princess," he murmurs decisively, "Going to the village is not safe, you can only trust me," at his words you tighten your lips into a tight line.

"If you really want to save me, then stop talking to me in that tone, we grew up together as friends, stop pulling away from me" you whisper sadly, the boy shows a flash of displeasure as your words sink into his heart, behind him several men on their horses begin to approach, one of whom is unridden.

"Jimin, more guards are coming!" exclaims a boy with hair as dark as a raven's feathers and tenacious eyes, and tossing him the reins of the riderless horse, the animal is magnificent, its coat as white as milk and its mane shining like the most precious gold.

Orobel.

With tears in your eyes you recognize the foal your father gave Jimin for his 12th birthday. He is much bigger and more majestic now, a force of nature in every way.

"You must come with us if you want to save your life, princess," says another, his shoulders broad and posture proud, he looks like the leader of the group, a large bow protrudes from his back.

You send down a knot in your throat when Jimin extends a hand toward you encouragingly, "We must go, don't be afraid of them, they are my trusted comrades, Y/N."

Your name uttered by his sweet lips shakes you to the core, he may not be aware of the effect he still has on you and you want to cry like a little girl when he helps you up from the muddy ground and hoist you onto Orobel, if he somehow notices your glazed eyes, he says nothing, probably blaming the wounds on your legs.

You really wish it were that way.

Jimin is chopping wood with an axe, he is shirtless and you watch from a distance, sitting on the grass and wrapped in a clean, heavy cloak, it is the only thing the boys have found suitable for you to protect you from the evening wind.

You notice a few drops of sweat sliding down his neck and then down to his muscular chest as he flexes his arms to strike yet another wooden stump, you swallow with a slight blush dusted on your cheeks, you didn't remember his physique being so grown up, it's all new to you as well as incredibly embarrassing.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice Yoongi picking some herbs not far from you, it makes you feel uncomfortable to have to live with so many men; when your uncle took you into custody, he didn't allow any boys to get close to you, he wanted to keep you pure for his plans. Thinking back to the man who didn't think twice about sentencing you to death paralyzes you. You have to hold on until you find your own place to stay, you doubt that Jimin will ever want you by his side; therefore, you have to think personally about your future, even if it is painful to think about.

Being with them, you get a little insight into everyone's roles within the group.

Seokjin is certainly the leader as well as an experienced archer. You have observed him several times taking aim and hitting his intended target accurately, plus he has an aura around him that inspires confidence and trust. On the other hand, Taehyung looks a bit like the jester of the situation, but you have seen him wielding daggers to catch various animals and never wished to take their place, it is clear that behind that sunny smile he hides a soul as dark as the others.

Namjoon would rather observe and devise traps than take part in an actual confrontation, but it is clear that he would never back down in the face of a real threat, just as Yoongi, who plays the role of doctor in the group, helped you bandage your fingers and legs when you arrived at their camp and was incredibly quiet, not that you felt like talking still upset after the events of the night.

Then there are Hoseok and Jungkook, both of whom are the hunters, their job is to find and kill all possible threats in the surroundings, lest their lair be found and besieged by the king's men.

Also, you found out that Jimin is a master of swords.

He masters his steel blade so lightly and sinuously that it seems to dance when he moves and lashes the air.

You are in the midst of wolves, but it doesn't scare you too much, you know they won't hurt you, or so you assume after those five days spent in their company.

You feel a figure stop behind you, you raise your head and have to squint to avoid being blinded by the sun's rays, slowly you make out the form of Yoongi who bends respectfully at your height. His feline-cut eyes seem to invite you to listen to him.

"I can see you are tired, princess, and I know you haven't slept well since you've been here," he begins with a thoughtful look, "Taehyung has managed to find suitable clothes for you and there is a safe lake nearby, I invite you to freshen up and put on something clean before resting, you will surely feel better," he says with a small reassuring smile.

You frown, undecided about what to do, the idea of a bath tantalizes you almost overbearingly, but the embarrassment if one of them were to see you naked would be too much to bear, and Yoongi seems to understand that.

"The lake is far enough away from the camp, none of us here are planning to go to that area at the moment, it is completely safe and isolated, you need not fear anything," he hastens to specify, "I will just accompany you, I will be back here immediately."

"I... thank you, Yoongi" you smile gratefully, finally trusting the boy.

"I'll go get you those clothes, wait here for a moment," you nod, sighing slightly; you turn back to Jimin, but find to your disappointment that he has disappeared.

Yoongi leaves you by the lake, the path back to the camp is not difficult; so, you assure the man that you will have no trouble. He leaves you with a shadow of doubt etched on his face, but you pay no attention to it; you walk to the lakeshore and breathe in the air at the top of your lungs, enjoying the blue sky and the fluffy clouds that sail across it like ships.

When you finally reach the lake, you feed on the sight of the crystal-clear water, the temptation to undress is very strong, but tightening your lips into a line you look around suspiciously.

Stripping off completely would be too much, so you decide to stay in your petticoat, shivering at the breeze rattling the tree foliage, you hang your clothes from the branch of an old felled log nearby.

You turn toward the shore and treading over the small stones and grass you finally slowly begin to enter the water, sighing at the almost freezing temperature.

As the water reaches your belly you hear something emerge noisily from the lake, widening your eyes you find yourself screaming and covering your chest as best you can, wordlessly you see Jimin with his eyes closed bringing back his blond, golden-strand-like hair, the movement is magnetic, and you are practically naked. No, both of you are naked.

You flinch down with the water now up to your chin and your heart in your throat, peering warily at the boy who notices you only at that moment and stares at you wordlessly at first, you notice his jaw snap rigidly and his clear eyes darken, before turning away.

"I'm done, I'm leaving right now," he says raising his voice slightly to be heard, "I just needed to get the sweat off of me," he looks uncomfortable as he tries hard not to let his eyes slide to you.

A squeeze in your stomach is all you get from his words.

"Jimin..." you call out to him as he begins to swim toward the shore, the bitter feeling like gall at seeing him move further and further away from you once again has become unbearable, "So that's it? You don't want me?" his bare shoulders tremble slightly, and you don't know whether from the cold of the water or from your words.

You don't really expect to see him coming back toward you, but that's exactly what he does by moving at an extraordinary speed, he almost looks like a water creature, then he is in front of you in his full height, water droplets glide along his perfect skin and you swallow trying not to look at his bare chest or even lower, suddenly feeling like a little girl under the icy depths of his eyes.

"You're going to get sick, Y/N... Look, your lips are already purple," he whispers, brushing your lower lip with his thumb, stroking it gently, and you feel yourself suddenly go on fire.

"Can't you just answer me to end this suffering?" you beg him with moist eyes, Jimin sighs before shaking his head, reaching up to brush your hair.

"I am not suitable for you, Y/N," he mutters it almost angrily, wishing to put an end to this.

"Or am I not suitable for you, maybe that's what you think" you smile sadly and bitterly, "I'm sorry to still be a bother to you."

"You are not a bother" he almost growls those words and you sigh shaking your head.

"Then I will be soon, you will meet a beautiful woman, marry her and have your own family, that same woman will then wonder when I will disappear from your life forever and at that point there will be no place for me even in your memories," you say shakily, "That is, if there are still memories of me in your heart."

You follow the movement of his neck as he tilts to let his eyes peer deep into your soul, his serious, thoughtful expression leaving you interjected.

He doesn't seem to want to deny but not even admit your words; it's as if he, too, is as confused as you are.

His gaze moves further down, there where your thin robe has stuck to your body because of the water, you realize with shame that it has become transparent and revealing, but you decide not to cover yourself.

You want him to look at you, to see that you are no longer a child, that you have grown up and that your body is that of a girl in her prime.

"My real problem, Y/N ... is that I'm sure I've met that woman before, but I don't feel worthy to be around her, not when I abandoned her in a castle to pursue my revenge," he whispers, the sky-blue color of his eyes seems to become more watery, "I can't forgive myself for putting her on the back burner, that's the truth," you hear the pain in his voice, the one that was missing that night in the cell when you freed him.

The need to hug him and hold him to you suddenly becomes more suffocating, with a sob you throw yourself into his arms and this time he doesn't stay stiff as marble, his arms wrap around you like a silk blanket and you find refuge in his chest.

His skin is warm against your cheek and it's a feeling you didn't think you would experience again, the boy sinks his face into your hair and leaves a kiss on your temple, before brushing the tip of his nose against you and smiling softly.

"There will never be a woman who will make me forget you," despite his words, you feel sad, still incomplete.

You sigh against his neck and close your eyes, you have gotten used to the temperature of the water and its warmth helps to relax you.

"But there will be a woman who will take you away from me" you point out in a colorless voice, when he doesn't respond you decide to loosen your sudden embrace, "I'm tired of waiting for you, Jimin" you let go of the ripples in the water, swimming back to the shore without taking your eyes off the boy who still seems to be in doubt, then a small, amused smile stretches across your face, "I'll have to find a real man who knows what it means to love a woman," you taunt him, reaching down to a shallow spot in the lake bottom, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine.

You begin to lower the straps of your now useless robe, abandoning all symptoms of shame, you want him to react or get angry in some way, you want a reaction from him and you get it, "Maybe Yoongi? I have to admit, he's very charming and he certainly knows what he wants, he could give me-" before you can even finish speaking, Jimin pulls you toward him grabbing you by the wrist, you only have time to make a surprised sound before his lips manage to cover yours in an impetuous, possession-filled kiss.

You hear your heart beating at a rapid pace in your ears, you did not expect your second kiss to happen this way, he seems exasperated as he presses himself against your mouth for more direct and intimate contact, you open your mouth slightly when his tongue dabs roughly on your lower lip.

It is a man who is kissing you, no longer the kid of your memories, and he seems more than willing to let you know it when one of his hands comes down to tenderly squeeze your throbbing neck, he smiles against your lips when he realizes that your heart seems to want to leave your chest and he separates himself from you with one last caress of his softest petals.

"I haven't even kissed you properly and your heart is already exploding," he chuckles with a spark of mischief in his clear eyes, "And who would you like to give such purity to, Yoongi?" he shakes his head hissing those words like an angry snake ready to attack.

You clench the hand that is still wrapped around your neck and strengthen his grip, wishing that the feel of his fingers on your skin would stay with you, "I've always wanted it to be yours, Jimin," you say softly, tilting your head at the slow descent of his hand.

"I'm very different from the nobles you grew up with, Y/N.... Don't expect me to catch you with a petticoat on," he continues by caressing a thin strap, lifting the fabric just a little, "Or for me to look away while you undress," he leans down to kiss the corner of your lips, reaches down to your chin and continues along the entire line of your neck, as water you adapt to the touch of him until he reaches your breast, your nipples turgid from the temperature of the water and his attentions are raised against the transparent fabric, the man can practically see their shape and color, he cups one breast as he pushes his head against your chest, kissing the soft, tantalizing flesh.

He adores you with his mouth and your sighs make him feel like a lion in a cage, his golden hair captures the last light of dawn as he pushes you against the shore and gets between your legs, studding you with kisses and caresses, returns to your mouth and finally with his tongue captures yours, inviting you to follow him.

You encircle his neck with your arms, trembling with excitement at the way he lets you touch him and the way he touches you, takes you by the hips and holds you against his massive, secure body.

"Jimin" you whisper in his ear as you feel something heavy and stiff against your inviolate intimacy, he mumbles something unintelligible, he seems lost in his bubble continuing to lick and kiss your neck, you tremble feeling incredibly hot, an unknown force urges you to rock against him and cling to his back with your fingernails, groaning suddenly.

This seems to awaken him and the spell is broken.

He flinches away, staring at you with agitation, in his gaze remorse is the one thing you don't want to read, but it's there.

"You need to get dressed," he warns you dangerously and with difficulty before pulling away from you completely, hurting you.

"H-Have I done something I shouldn't have done?" you ask bewildered, still with chills in your body from what his hands were capable of doing to you, this version of Jimin completely opposite from the boy who was kissing you only seconds ago is like a punch to the stomach.

"I said get dressed, Y/N! " he abruptly blurts out, "And stay away from Yoongi, I don't want to see you flirting with him, you're not a village woman," he runs a hand through his damp hair nervously, before stepping out of the water without caring about his nakedness, you turn your head away from him, the feeling of shame has returned to invade your limbs, and with a stone in your heart you bring your arms to your chest, stepping out of the water and groping for the dry clothes that Taehyung and Yoongi kindly gave you.

You don't see Jimin move away from you, clenching his fists and hitting the trunk of a tree until his knuckles are mangled, finding himself staring at the blood rushing to the grass with resentment, trying hard to forget your mouth begging his to be taken or the softness of your body that has enslaved him at an embarrassing speed.

You are worse than a circle of hell for him.

When you return to camp with your face pulled into an indecipherable expression, the boys study you in confusion noting also the strange attitude of Jimin who walks a few steps ahead of you.

The two of you seem farther apart than before and this certainly does not go unnoticed by the others, Yoongi tightens his lips as he reaches for the blond man who is walking back into the forest in search of more wood.

"Hey!" he exclaims behind his friend, "What happened at the lake?" he asks, Jimin snaps an eyebrow up.

"So you knew I was there?" he curls his upper lip over his teeth appearing menacing, but Yoongi's hard gaze doesn't lower.

"She's crazy about you, so it's clear that the fight stemmed from you, am I right?"

This simply rattles the blond more, "I didn't do anything at all, don't play cupid, man, because it won't stick with me."

"Or maybe it was a one-way conversation and you didn't even give her a chance to talk, you're such an asshole! She doesn't deserve a bastard like you, a guy who doesn't grab a chance like that when he has it at his fingertips," Yoongi blurts out, starting to turn back, but those words turn on a red flag in the younger boy who grabs the older one by the leather vest.

"And what would you like to do, Yoongi? Seize the opportunity yourself? I've seen how you watch her pretend to gather herbs for your infusions," at which point Yoongi chuckles wryly, his black eyes twinkling.

"I won't lie, I like her. But I also know to whom her heart belongs, and as a doctor I can well say that if you continue to keep her on the edge like you're doing now, that heart will get sick," he sighs, flinching, "Don't make me punch you, Jimin... you're no fool."

"I'm a criminal and she's a princess," he says without emotion on his handsome face, Yoongi snorts as he rolls his eyes.

"You are her hero, the crown wants her dead and you saved her, now she's a woman like any other and nothing forbids you to be with her," clarifies the older man with a raised eyebrow, as he walks away Jimin remains frozen in place.

‘She's a woman like any other.’

No, you are not like all the others, you are his princess and will remain so forever, which is precisely why he cannot allow another man to lay his hands on you.

Abandoning himself against the bark of an old tree he wonders if being with you would be worth it as a form of protection, he would never hurt you and would ensure you protection for life, the very idea of giving you his love has always terrified him, anyone who ever loved him is dead and he wouldn't want anything horrible to happen to you because of him, but now things have changed, you need him and he... needs you.

He finds you sitting in front of the fire, you're focused on the crackling flames, and if you notice his presence, you don't show it at all, you pull the blanket tighter over your shoulders.

Your thoughtful, melancholy expression suggests to him that you are still remembering the events of a few hours ago, recognizing that he was a real jerk for the way he treated you earlier, kissing you like a lover and then rejecting you like a cheap whore. He still feels ashamed and makes sure that each of his friends is asleep in their own tent before sitting silently next to you.

He hears you wince a little and out of the corner of his eye notices you turn your head away, refusing to acknowledge his presence. He smiles slightly, even as a child when you were offended by something you would puff up your cheeks and turn your head to the side, just as you are doing now.

Yes, you are still his lovely princess.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, moving a few millimeters closer to you, "I shouldn't have spoken to you and I especially shouldn't have touched you like that."

You frown in annoyance, snorting slightly through your nose.

"I don't object to the way you touched me, but you should keep quiet a little more," you mutter venomously, "You have the hands of an angel, but the tongue of a devil," you say casting a glance at his hands, you see the wounds and your heart sinks, you want to kiss them and curse that thought.

Those words trigger two completely different reactions in Jimin, on the one hand they help make him feel guilty, on the other he finds himself smiling internally, because you really don't know how devilish his tongue can be, if used in the right way.

"And you a mermaid's lips," he says taking your chin between two fingers, staring at you with such intensity that you feel naked.

He mirrors himself in your glossy irises and sighs, "Forgive me, after so many years of believing I'm not right for you, I forgot the most important thing."

"The most important thing?"

"Yes, you."

You gasp in surprise, registering his words only after a few moments of unbearable silence.

"You're saying that..."

"I am saying that I want to stay by your side, to be your protector and also your lover, if you will still allow me to be, Y/N."

His irises as clear as the waters of the lake gently brush against you, you feel your eyes tingling, and before he can see the tears streaming down your face you rush toward him, embracing him as if your life depended on it.

In a way it does, because without Jimin, your last piece of happiness that endures from childhood and which you have finally found again, you would have wandered in the void of loneliness for who knows how long.

You think back to your parents, to Harun, to all that you have lost and come to the conclusion that you were not yet ready to lose Jimin too, but he is here. You smile, pulling up with your nose before resting your lips on the boy's soft ones, who more than willingly accepts to surrender himself in your arms that are as small as they are warm and that scream familiarity.

"So you haven't forgotten me," you whisper, pulling away slightly, the blond shakes his head, snorting.

"Never, I tried to protect you by keeping you away from me, the king wants me dangling on a rope ... or at least it was until you made the mistake of saving me" he utters the last words with a note of reproach in his voice, staring at you sternly for the way you put yourself in danger.

But you don't lower your gaze, you won't feel guilty for saving the man you love.

"Now the two of us are here, together, do you want to blame me so much?" you murmur softly and his heart melts like snow in the sun.

He shakes his head, no, he cannot blame you. He, too, for love has made foolish and terrible decisions, and he will not let go of the chance to make up for all the pain he has caused you.

"I could never," he hisses almost painfully, closing his eyes as your fingers graze his hair and his lips reach for you, snapping another kiss.

You let him embrace you and he hold the back of your neck with one hand as he tries to deepen your contact, making it more intimate and slower than the more feverish kisses the two of you exchanged at the lake.

Your heart vibrates like the wings of a hummingbird, happy to give yourself in that way to the one man you have always loved and whom you know for certain you will love all your life. You would never have agreed to an arranged marriage; you hoped with all your heart that your uncle would never find a suitable suitor for you, and fortunately it did.

A commotion from one of the seven tents surprises you both suddenly, you separate slightly and cast a glance toward Namjoon's tent.

"He must have dropped one of his swords," Jimin mutters irritably, you, on the other hand, are traveling with your imagination, imagining sharing the tent with Jimin for the first time and blushing, since you were rescued the boys have taken turns to stand guard and let you have their little station, although strangely enough Jimin's guard duty was lasting for too many days, and as a result you have always used his bed made of furs and straw. Not quite like the one in your room at the palace, but by now you were well used to it, considering the tower where your uncle locked you up.

"Come with me," he offers you his hand and you stare at it for a few moments, before extending yours and linking your fingers in a secure grip, "I know a place a little more... peaceful" the word slips between his teeth persuasively, you don't know what will happen tonight, but if he asked you to throw yourself off a mountain, you would do it as long as he stayed by your side at all times.

"Is it far?" you ask raising your skirt slightly, trying not to trip over tree roots and stones.

The blond looks ahead without letting go of your hand, "Just a little bit" he turns to you with his laughing eyes and you are enchanted at their color, he is lighter and more affectionate, he almost looks like that child Jimin you have missed so much.

You walk just enough to reach the thick, lumpy roots of a large tree, its branches entirely covering the night sky that until moments before was towering over you with its stars.

"Jimin... is ..." you try to say, but there is really no doubt.

The man nods.

"We are inside the lovers' forest, Y/N... this is the tree where according to legend their marriage was celebrated."

You look around, almost hoping to see the blooming arch where the first king and queen of your kingdom were married, eventually giving birth to your dynasty, but you see none of it, disappointed to realize that it is just a clearing of grass and flowers that seems to bow its head to the great tree that towers above it all.

"That's not how the stories described the place," you mumble slightly, your mother and Harun's stories spoke of magical creatures as spectators, flowers of every color and every shade decorating the lawn and the guests' walnut chairs, not to mention precisely the large archway on which roses and climbing plants had grown in honor of the two newlyweds.

You hear Jimin chuckle behind you, his hands encircle your hips and your back rests against his chest, you feel his warm breath on your neck, and goose bumps cause you to shiver.

"I never believed those stories and you know it," he says in a clear, amused tone, "But as I grew older I realized that something really happened here," he whispers in your ear.

With an elegant hand he lifts your chin slightly, bringing your gaze to the trunk of the large tree, you sharpen your vision and finally notice them.

"Runes?"

"Runes," the boy confirms, "This is the Lignum Vitae, the tree of life according to the legends, little princess," he chuckles as he turns away, his leather boots hardly audible among the uncultivated grass and damp earth.

"You don't believe that either?" you snort with a smile, you know you've always been the one to believe in everything your country's legends have handed down, but you would expect some cooperation from him, after all, he was the one who brought you here.

"I don't believe in magic, but I believe that lovers gathered here to bring offspring into the world, relying precisely on this tree," he explains with a shrug.

In fact, talking about a marriage in the stories was much easier if you wanted to tell something about the origin of the royal family to innocent children.

"They succeeded, didn't they? Look at me!" you laugh, pointing with a little bow, and Jimin does, looking at you with an affection and love that until morning he jealously kept to himself.

He walks to the tree and touches the runic symbols gently, in his mind an idea takes an increasingly clear and tantalizing shape.

"If magic really existed and we strengthened our ties to the tree, would everything fall back into place?" he wonders softly with furrowed brows, not wincing when you hug him from behind, as if expecting your closeness.

"We cannot get back what was taken from us, Jimin... even magic is useless in the face of death," your hands are intertwined over his heart, you feel it beating hard and fast, like a free and powerful horse.

"Life is what interests me," he admits, turning toward you.

He takes a few steps forward and you are forced to take as many steps backward, you don't see one of the raised roots of the tree and fall back with a little yelp, Jimin is quick to catch you before you can hit your head, and you both square off with wide-eyed stares.

"If I asked you to give me the gift of a child, here and now, what would your answer be?" he asks seriously.

You don't think about it for a single moment.

"I would answer that it is one of the desires that bind me to you, Jimin."

Another kiss comes, followed by another and another, his mouth demanding yours with such need that it seems almost savage, as if he wants to feed on you after all the years spent lusting after you in the shadows, fleeing like a wanted man of the worst kind.

He accompanies you on the damp grass and reacquaints himself with your neck, using the softness of his rosy lips to tease your tender skin, with the tips of his pearly teeth biting it lightly, and this causes an outcropping of dark, purple stains along the column of your throat, amused at imagining how others might react the next day once they set their gaze on you.

You don't even care, his attentions are a novelty, you welcome his mouth and tongue on your body as a blessing, you wouldn't turn him away from you for anything in the world, let them accuse you of being a prostitute, you and Jimin know the truth, which is that your body and soul have always belonged to the blond and no one has ever touched you as he is doing.

When he gets to the modest bodice of your dress you do something that must be strange to him, or at least you sense this from his gaze when you lift your skirt and stand helpless in his hands, like one of the wooden logs he cuts daily.

"What are you doing?" he asks with a furrowed brow.

Agitation clouds your cheeks, what's wrong?

"You said you want a baby," you say almost shyly, perhaps you misunderstood? But no, he had made it clear earlier....

"I did say that, but I don't understand why you just lifted up your skirt without responding to my caresses and now you stand still" his doubtful expression embarrasses you, that's how educators told you to do it, "Forgive me, my request was too bold."

"No!" you immediately exclaim, "I want to, only I was told to do it this way."

You see his nostrils flare to snort with irritation.

"Right...you've been locked in a castle full of soulless puppets" he shakes his head, "But that's not how I want to take you, Y/N, I prefer you receptive" he whispers persuasively, "Just like today at the lake" he continues, stroking the bare skin of your legs, pushing into your soft inner thighs, you feel your belly tighten heatedly.

"Let's leave certain unnecessary distances to those old nobles," he goes on, kissing you behind your ear, a tremor shakes you when his lips wrap around your earlobe, licking it with the tip of his tongue, "Take off your bodice, love, show me what a good girl you are, hmm?"

You nod without a drop of saliva in your mouth, Jimin's tongue hisses like a snake and you are drawn to his drawling words, you are his forbidden fruit and he can't wait to bite you and find out how sweet you can be and how deliciously you can bleed.

Each button that leaves a buttonhole is a soft kiss from him over the light blouse that still holds your breasts, mentally moaning the blond curses himself for not enjoying your eager body sooner and perfect for his fingers.

He would like to tear off your clothes instantly, but he restrains himself, how would you return to others without instigating some desire in them?. No, he is gentle when even the last garment leaves you and he can finally quiver at the sight of your naked body shivering under the icy night air, or perhaps it is his eyes that make you tremble?

He lifts himself off your body and tosses his tunic to the side, your eyes drink in the sight of his hard chest and the slight hair that descends to his private parts, which you did not see that morning, but you distinctly felt on your warm intimacy, and the air escapes your lungs when you notice something that in the sunlight has strangely escaped you, perhaps because you have tried not to stare at him too much, his chest is studded with small, shiny white lines, they are thin and almost intangible, but they are there.

You brush those lines with a tentative finger, feeling the reliefs with a question mark in mind, and in doing so his skin twitches, "What are these?" you ask gently, Jimin gives a small smile and kisses the knuckles of your hand.

"Every day spent without you," he pronounces solemnly, the wind rattles the leaves of the large tree and for a few moments it is as if you feel it voice whispering over the blond man's words. You chase away the feeling and embrace the boy once more with a tear running down your cheek. You were a fool to believe that he had abandoned you when all he had done was think about you.

You have a feeling that the air is warmer now that his head is buried in the hollow of your breasts, his moist tongue playing with the tip of a nipple initially causing a strange tickle in the center of your chest before a glowing sensation slips between your legs, making you blaze with desire, it's all more direct without your petticoat and you love every second of it.

You bite your lower lip, holding back a moan louder than your sighs, you don't want it to go away again, but it's stronger than you when the delicious sting of a bite makes your thighs tremble around his bare hips, you feel the length of his cock twitch against your skin, it's heavy and it arouses you to know that you have that effect on him, at that thought the wetness descends between your thighs against your will and you try to hide, but Jimin can read a woman's body and you are still too inexperienced to go unnoticed by a hunter like him.

"It's normal" he breathes on your lips imparting another deep kiss, "It means you like it" the tip of his nose rubs against yours trying to soothe you, your eyes fly to his cock when he lifts a little to settle himself better and all the blood rushes to your head, you don't know whether from the shame of seeing a naked man or from the incredible wave of pleasure that washes over you at noticing how thick and needy he looks, there is white liquid at the tip, dripping thickly down his veiny length that seems to contract under your curious and hungry eyes.

Then a thought alarms you, "Does it all have to go in there?" you point to your intimacy, though you don't know for sure, your educators had been vague and you never touched yourself, sometimes you felt the need as you imagined what an adult Jimin might look like, but you never dared to break the imposed rules.

A princess does not do such things as a street woman.

Yet, that's exactly where Jimin caresses you, his fingers dance over your moist folds with mastery and you block the instinct to close your legs, as you might when with his thumb he rolls over a spot that gives you particularly intense and wonderful sensations, "Jimin!" you grab his wrist trying to slow down his devilish circles, but your pelvis continues to chase pleasure against your will, you throw your head back and Jimin kisses the line of your jaw as if it is impossible for him to stop kissing you in any way.

"This is called the clit, love," you hear him smile, "And this is where I'm going to go all in...my cock will go into your sweet little pussy, Y/N," he hums moving his fingers to your needy slit, entering lightly with his light fingertips, you gasp at his sudden dirty language but find that you like it, it makes you feel desired.

You feel his fingers move inside you as his thumb continues to caress your clit, your lower abdomen trembles and stutters in despair with each jolt of pleasure, your teary eyes are lost in the immensity of the tree that seems to silently observe what is happening.

Jimin never goes beyond the elastic barrier he senses beyond your entrance, he merely teases you within inches of your entrance and it is amazing how liquid and copious your pleasure flows past his wrist until it drips onto the grass. His instincts are stronger than he is, he must have a taste of your sweetness and you abruptly hold your breath when his tongue catches another wave of your honeyed essence, you are devastating to his taste buds and he wants more, you find yourself crying and contracting your hips as you try to escape his mouth, he devours you by insisting on your scarlet pearl and when more drops of pleasure come he runs to lick them away from your slit, he seems to be going crazy or maybe he is.

"Stop, Jimin... Stop-oh!" you stiffen instantly when a firmer lick shakes your body and makes you explode in such pleasure that you squint and cry.

"Ssssh, princess" you feel Jimin's lips gathering your tears before placing a kiss at the corner of your stammering mouth; his lips are wet and glossy; he is the embodiment of sin.

He is still breathing down your neck as the thickness of his cock begins to furrow your folds to gather as much moisture as possible, the thick, shiny tip of his cock swirls around your slit and you reflexively contract your pussy muscles, it is almost funny how despite the pleasure that has shocked you, your pussy still tries to invite him inside her.

"It's going to hurt, my love" he warns you with a sharp breath, you nod immediately, this part has been repeated to you many times by those women whose job it was to instruct you in your duties as a wife, though none of them had ever told you that you could experience such pleasure that you would be left gasping for breath.

"I know," you smile, but Jimin seems a little anxious.

"It will be short-lived, I'll be gentle and-" you caress his face affectionately, you know that too, he would never intentionally hurt you.

"And I will have your baby," your heart warms every time you think about it, a baby with the same cheeks and eyes as Jimin? You would love him infinitely, Jimin melts into a real smile.

"Ours."

He intertwines a hand with yours as he prepares to enter and the next thrust makes your eyes widen, he is incredibly slow and gentle, but you have never had anything inside you before and you feel all too clearly his length piercing and widening your inner walls at his will, Jimin is breathing shallowly with sweat beading on his forehead in an attempt to keep calm, you hold him deliciously and you are extraordinarily beautiful as you stare at him with your eyes lost and your lips half-closed and swollen from his kisses.

"I-It doesn't hurt, don't worry, my love," you manage to murmur with a smile, that's right, it doesn't hurt.

It's just a strange sensation, the stretch stings and tingles, but it's nothing unbearable or terrible as you've been led to believe all your life.

Or maybe Jimin is a very good lover, whispers a little voice in your head.

Even so, you feel something warm dripping from your slit after a more direct lunge, running down one of your thighs and ending up on the damp grass; it is your blood, but you pay no attention to it, just as you pay no attention to the quick absorption of the earth near the tree roots.

The blond man nods, but he reaches down again to take a nipple in your mouth, massaging your breast as if he expects milk to come out of it already, your clitoris twitching pleasantly and his cock sliding more sinuously, now you can feel it tapping deeper and deeper, you can almost feel it in your belly and you accompany his thrusts by moving against him, you cling to his back with your fingernails, you hear him moan loudly and that sound excites you, you wonder if...

Before you even think, your hand slides over his chest and you rotate your thumb around one of his smaller, darker nipples, he stiffens with a hoarse sound in his throat and the intensity of his thrusts increases, he clings desperately to you as you tease him again, encircling his hips with your legs.

In the clearing the obscene sounds of your relationship are lost in the wind, the leaves of the tree moving gently almost as if blessing your union.

You kiss him once more and let his tongue take over your mouth, abandoning his deep sighs in you, your walls begin to vibrate ecstatically each time his cock repeatedly plows through them, your belly heats up and you squeeze his swollen length into your pussy, preventing him from leaving at all, Jimin increases his jet speed, now sure of the pleasure that envelops you like a bubble and crushes you against his body, he rides the waves of lust like a stallion, your lungs run out of breath and the world swirls around you.

"We're going to have a baby," he growls decisively, his once ice-blue eyes now a deep electric blue, "And I'm going to bring your uncle's head to you, love," he announces, repeatedly pounding into you at a more assertive and rough pace, his pleasure is snaking incandescently, he can't wait to cum inside you and fill you to the last drop, you will surely accept him as a good wife should.

You tremble with panting and his fierce lunges, praying that he will never leave you, your core is on fire, your walls wrap around him with desperation, and your clit is ready again to let you go in a spiral of enjoyment. You want it all, you yearn for it, you need it, you would kill for it all.

Making love with Jimin.

Yes.

Carrying his child.

Yes.

Having your uncle's head on a silver platter.

Yes.

You hold him in your arms as the first hot jet is shot inside you, he is still buried between your legs as he continues to come, you whimper and at yet another strand of his seed you stiffen, you open your mouth wide in a mute sound as you come with no more strength.

Your body is shaken, unable to recover and you don't understand why, you try to escape when Jimin comes out of your sweet depths, but he blocks you with his weight.

You stare at him shocked when he returns with his hand to your pussy, repeatedly rubbing your perky, still rigid pearl, you shake your head.

"No, it's too much!" you cry clutching your legs, but he continues fearlessly, "I can't do it," you gasp pleadingly.

"It's what you need, honey" he murmurs in your ear, "You're so sensitive you don't realize you need another orgasm to soothe your body, I should have fed you earlier like this, sweet little thing" he sighs with his wrist locked between your thighs, bliss finally comes in little spurts of pleasure that make you gasp and Jimin's thumb stops torturing you, you sag against him without strength, feeling nothing but the vibrations of your intimacy still reliving the intensity and strength of his presence.

"Thank you," you say turning a little toward him, who stares at you with all the love he has for you, "For everything."

But the blond man shakes his head, "You did it all, my princess, I just waited for you" you hear regret in his tone of voice and you're sorry, you don't want him to think back to all the time that kept you apart, now you're together and that's all that matters.

"We will be fine now," you nod.

"When I regain the kingdom" a kiss, "Our baby will be born" another kiss, "And I'll have the king's head to make you a gift" he snaps an even more intense kiss, "We'll be even better, to love you this and more, Y/N" he stares at you with devotion and you lose a beat.

"And I want it, I want it all, Jimin" you let yourself be cradled in your love's embrace and you notice a flash of lightning in passing, you widen your eyes and turn toward the big tree.

It was only an instant, but you swear you saw the runic symbols glow gold.

You kiss Jimin's neck with a smile, foretasting a flood of sweet happenings for both of you, you feel your lap throb gently and you know, a new dynasty is about to be brought into the world.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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alice-the-demon · 2 months ago

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Wonder Tower ♦️♣️♠️♥️

Let's take a closer look at them, shall we?

Peppino

He arrived in Wonderland with no memory of his past, with the only thing that remembers is that he was trying to catch a snow white rabbit. Welcomed by the White King, Peppino was given the mission to venture in this land and reach the Tower ruled by the Queen of Hearts to defeat them and free this land from their maniacal and destructive clutch. Peppino reluctantly accepts and, accompanied by the King and his trustworthy yet odd cavalry, ventures in forests filled with contradictory signs, gardens full of talking flowers, beaches with animals that run continuously and more, making friends along the way while sometimes getting annoyed with all the nonsense that habits this absurd land. Peppino wears an armour, gloves and heels donated by the White King, has ruffled hair and dark circles under his eyes, almost as if he hasn't slept well in months. He really has the face of someone who is tired of all this stuff, he can be kind but most of the time he is either so nervous that he stays still while shaking like a leaf or on the verge of exploding with anger because of his hammering headaches.

White King

He's the sovereign of Wonderland... or, well, the ex sovereign of Wonderland, losing his power against the maddening Queen of Hearts. He always wears white regal clothes with a silver crown placed on his short curly brown hair, along with a nice moustache that makes him look more friendly. The White King is the one to properly welcome Peppino to Wonderland and to tell him that he's the chosen one to defeat the Queen of Hearts that is terrorising the inhabitants of this place and become the new king. Of course, White King accompanies Peppino in this adventure, although he's more of a pacifist and prefers to not participate in battles, at most he acts as a guide and emotional supporter for whenever Peppino is in distress.

White Rabbit

The White King's most trusted and loyal friend, a giant white rabbit wearing a blue waistcoat with twirling whiskers who can run for miles at a great speed. He's the first character Peppino has met and also the one who carried him to the White King's castle. He doesn't speak, but can express himself through gestures and squeaks.

Chesire Cat

The first odd character Peppino meets in his journey, a red striped cat with a wide, sly smile and a collar with a diamond shaped jewel attached to it. He doesn't seem to take anything seriously, always having a nonchalant and relaxed way of acting, laughing and making jokes to anyone he meets. He was ordered to stop Peppino from arriving at the Tower, doing so by deceiving and confounding him with the ability of turning invisible and removing parts of his body... But he preferred to play with Peppino's confusion with this place before deciding to join the duo to their journey to rebel against the Queen of Hearts.

(The bosses in this AU aren't Peppino's enemies, they act more as allies here :P )

Caterpillar

The second fellow Peppino will meet. This weird character (as if the others weren't weird enough) has some of the characteristics of a caterpillar, multiple arms, long body (most of it covered with pants) and antennas, but also have a humanoid torso, head and hands, always decorated with various jewellery included a bracelet with a club shaped gem on it. He's a man of few words and pretty susceptible, he spends most of his time smoking with his hookah in the middle of a field.

The Mad Hatter

Definitely the most annoying one. He's a silly small man with twirling moustaches and a bucktooth wearing a funny hat resembling a tea pot (and functions like a tea pot!), wearing a yellow suit with a spade-shaped jewel attached to his papillon. Even more of a jerk than the Cheshire Cat, the Mad Hatter spends most of his time doing tea parties to celebrate his own and his friends' "unbirthday" for 364 days along with his moving mechanical tea pots. He rarely pays attention to what the others are saying and often creates big messes, making him Peppino's least favourite person in this absurd place.

March Hare and Dormouse

Respectively the girlfriend and best friend of the Mad Hatter. The first is a hare with pink clothing and black raven hair, she's a real party animal, always finding her boyfriend's parties endearing with a frivolous demeanor; the second is a, well, dormouse with blue fur and a sleepy look all the time, so much he sleeps during the parties inside teapots or sugar bowls, but he enjoys the company and savour the tea every once in a while.

Knight of Hearts

The last guy Peppino meets before facing the Queen of Hearts. He's supposed to be guarding the Queen's roses garden... But he acts like a puppy doing their best in their job. The Knight of Hearts always wears a rusty bronze helm, hiding his face, and armour decorated with a ruined red cape attached with a heart shaped jewel on a brooch. He's armed with a sword and shield, both ruined and damaged looking, but the Knight doesn't really know how to use them anyway. They never speak but it's clear that they're very naive and, for how clumsy they are, their movements are almost always unpredictable, always tripping either on their own cape or with any object that meet the Knight's foot.

Queen of Hearts

The apparent last obstacle Peppino has to face, the mad ruler of Wonderland, always wearing a regal red, green and black dress with roses and hearts, a crown placed on their red twirling and heart-shaped wig and a wide crazy smile on her face along with heart symbols on her cheeks and a red nose. They always have a creepy wide smile on their face, mumbling senseless phrases, putting chaos in all Wonderland, often threatening their servants to cut their heads at the minuscule error they make and breaking anything they don't like with their axe.

King of Hearts

The husband of the Queen of Hearts. He wears a crown to cover his balding head, glasses and a red vest with thick white fur. Although he's the King of Wonderland he doesn't really have that much power, not with that maddening Queen in command. Most of the time he remains aloof, in hope to be safe by the Queen's tantrums.

Jabberwocky

The beast of madness, causing chaos to be spread in Wonderland by using the Queen of Hearts as a puppet, residing right on the top of the Tower. A dragon-like monster with teeth sharp like razors and chain-like whiskers, bringing anyone to the Jabberwocky's mercy by spiraling them into insanity to anyone who gets attached to them. He's ferocious and malicious, the only way to defeat him is to make a clean cut on the scar on his nape (hidden by the red scales on his head) while maintaining your mind lucid.

Sunflower

She's one of the flowers of a garden Peppino ventures in the same garden as the Caterpillar's, has a pretty singing voice although she's not noticed by the other flowers for how small she is. She mistakes Peppino's shiny armour for the sun and asks him if she can join the group too. Peppino accepts, both because it would've been rude to not accept an innocent flower's wish, but also because after all it was nice to have her around. She's not very important to the story nor strong enough to face the Queen of Hearts, she's the only member (aside the White King and Rabbit) who doesn't give a headache to Peppino and she's also a very gentle emotional supporter.

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daydreamer-in-reverie · 7 months ago

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The Victor’s purge is absolutely something that just blows my mind.

The Capitol propaganda against Victors were so effective, even the very people fighting for their freedom turned on them.

During the events of TBOSAS, we learn that the first 10 winners of the Hunger Games received no compensation for their participation in the games. Why would they? They’re nobodies. Reminders of a war that had forced the people of the Capitol to turn on each other, forcing them into such desperate lengths that they had to resort to eating other people just to survive. They were not celebrated like the Victors we recognize in the 75th Hunger Games. They were not victors but survivors. In fact, we learn that not many people wanted to watch the Hunger Games in the beginning. It left a bitter taste in a person’s mouth to watch children fight to the death and have the event sensationalized, even if the child is considered the enemy.

And yet, with Victors being placed on a pedestal after the events of TBOSAS, we saw how quickly the Victors were woven into the Capitol’s society.

Upon winning, Victors were alienated in their own Districts. They were given beautiful mansions, fed three square meals a day, and their families wanted for nothing. They became mentors, becoming active participants in the very Games designed to kill members of their own Districts. Their participation may have been forced but when you smile and wave at cameras and show off your new found wealth, it’s hard to believe you didn’t want these things.

Victors are even further alienated outside of their own Districts with the Victor’s parade. A whole week of traveling through the 12 districts to show off your vitality and strength and your life, the very thing you took from the other tributes in order to survive. Victors did not need to drip themselves with jewels to offend the other Districts, their survival was insult enough. Never mind that you didn’t want to kill these kids. Never mind that you are a child yourself.

Every place you turn, you’re met with jealousy, derision and contempt. No longer the perfect quintessential victim but a killer of children who “benefitted” from the very system designed to oppress you. By winning the Hunger Games you are no longer District.

So you turn to the one place that showers you with any hint of adoration.

Ingratiating themselves into the Capitol’s society cemented their identity as Other. They may live in the Distrcts, may be forced to subject themselves in horrors that are far worse than any modicum of starvation they faced in the Districts, but they are no longer one of them.

And so the Rebels forget who exactly they’re fighting for, forgot who actually experienced the horror they could only dread.

Yes, they are fighting against their own oppression. Yes, they fight for their child’s right to live and never play in the Games. But they forget about the 59 other Victors who actually went through the horrors they’re fighting against. They forget about the biggest victims of the system they are fighting against.

Snow alienated Victors from the rest of the Districts so much that of the surviving 59 Victors before the events of Mockingjay, only 7 come out alive.

7 out of 59.

There’s not even enough of them to distribute one to every district.

The biggest victims of the Capitol’s oppression also became the biggest victims of the rebel’s war.

#hunger games #media analysis #catching fire #mocking jay #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #finnick odair #betee latier #johanna mason #sunrise on the reaping #annie cresta #lucy geay baird

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targaryenluvs · 1 year ago

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I keep rereading your one shot about Dark prostitute!finnick and Capitol!reader and I can’t help but imagine it the other way round. Like with dark!finnick with Victor prostitute reader where he’s just utterly obsessed with her and would do anything to have her.

OHHH SHIT!

dark!finnick odair x fem!victor!reader

— capitol girl

tw: mdni 18+,, prostitution, obsession, guilt/bribery, nc insinuations. MY BABE FINN WOULD NEVERRR!!

he could not get enough of you. every time you walked into the room his eyes always drifted to you, and you couldn’t say no to him. he had more than enough money than every person around him. and he was not ashamed to flaunt it.

the expensive jewels he loved to gift you. the necklaces resting in the valley of your breasts, his initials on display. clearly these captiol pigs needed a reminder of who you were for, who you were made for.

he worshipped the floor you walked on, and he made sure to let you know.

“you look ravishing tonight.” his hands trailed amongst your bare back, a blue dress adorned your body, courtesy of finnick. you smiled, “thank you finn.” the name sat heavy on your tongue, distaste ringing through. you relied on the posca in your hand to take your mind away, even if you were physically here.

“i can’t wait to feel you tonight,” his words were an arrow, sharp and painful, reminding you of your inability to resist. to rebel against the heinous things you were forced to do, to protect your family. “you’ll be good for me, yeah?” you smiled in agreement, raising your glass to his. “to us.” finnick grinned, “to us.” you downed the drink quickly, liquid running smoothly down your throat.

and as you drunkenly attempted to crawl from his grasp, he held you down with all his might, he bruised you and felt you in places unknown to others. he forced himself inside and made himself at home.

he owned you.

#hunger games x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair x female reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x fem!reader #finnick odair x reader #dark!finnick odair x fem!reader #dark!finnick odair x reader

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eternal-love · 29 days ago

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LACY

Pairing: Courtier!Austin x Queen!reader

Summary: Everyone knew about your husband’s exotic interests, specially after the son of some lord arrived at court. A boy that threatened your position.

Warning: Takes place in medieval times, power imbalance, Austin is younger than the reader, royals?, reader is an asshole to Austin, slight smut (oral fem receiving, face riding)

Note: inspired of course by Lacy by Olivia Rodrigo. This is kinda different. I hope you guys like it. Reader is obvs very inspired by Cersei Lannister, that DIVA💜

Before you became queen by marriage, your house had been the most powerful in the kingdom. Your family had ruled for centuries. Until your house was challenged at war for the throne, another house rebelled against the order of things, and unfortunately they won.

You went from being next in line to the throne, to having to marry the man that usurped it from you. You put up with it for your family. Because you wanted to keep them alive.

Years went by and you were a proper queen, one coronated as the ‘Queen of beauty and love’, you were beloved by the commoners, your husband, King Richard, not so much. He was know for being a fool, a crazy and lustful fool. You knew very well that he spent most of his time in brothels

But you got on with it, it’s not like you had much of choice. Plus, the more time you spent far away from that fool, the more time you had to educate yourself. But in the end, you were the Queen and you had to keep appearances. So that’s why you agreed to any celebrations he decided to throw on the hall.

Dressed in the best silks and jewels from the kingdom, you sat besides your King and husband. Drinking wine from a goblet as you watched your courtiers dance around. You noticed how your husband stared at a new courtier you had not seen before. It wasn’t uncommon that new high-born people came to live in the castle and you never noticed.

Your husband stared too much at the boy, your eye couldn’t help but twitch. Everyone knew about the King’s exotic interests. He liked young maidens and young boys.

He wasn’t dumb though, he knew to only fuck them in brothers. Never high-borns but this boy, he was breathtaking. That wasn’t something you could deny. You made sure your handmaidens brought him to you.

“My King, my Queen.” The young boy curtsied in front of the high table.

“Hello, summer child.” You forced out a smile, the boy was gorgeous. “My, you are a beauty What is your name.”

“Thank you, your grace.” The boy smiled at both of you. “And my name is Austin, your Grace.”

Golden hair, blue eyes, porcelain skin, those pointy ears. You could recognize those traits from miles away. The son of Lord Soltheris, from, fittingly, House Soltheris from the Vale. Gorgeous high-bornes came out that house.

“I must keep you close. It fits a queen to be surrounded by such beauties.” You said, when in reality, you already wanted to send him away. You saw the way your husband eyed the boy, it wouldn’t surprise you if you found out later on that your husband had tasted the boy.

You tried to not think much of it, maybe this time around the King would use his brain and know that it wasn’t ideal for him to fuck a young high-born.

But as days went by, you noticed that your husband seemed rather pleased to have him as new courtier, you always saw them together. It wasn’t hard to see that your husband was infatuated.

The boy spent, countless hours in your husband’s chambers. By his side during supper, on his walks by the garden. You started to get paranoid, very. It didn’t befit a Queen to be paranoid over such— boy. But he was beautiful. More beautiful than you believed yourself to be.

As you observed from afar, how the boy walked besides Richard, how he moved, how he laughed, how he dressed. In fine fabrics, you noticed a pattern in the colors he wore and you hated it. Because he used the same colors as you, as well as his clothes were often decorated with golden thread and pearls.

He was a better version of yourself, younger, fitter, even more beautiful. You remembered the words a witch once told you. You had tried to forget them, mayhaps the witch had just want to scare you. But now, the prophecy seemed to be fulfilling itself.

“You will be Queen, for a time. Then there will be another sight for sore eyes. Younger. More beautiful. One that will cast you aside and take everything and everyone you hold dear.”

Austin knew very well that you knew what he was doing with the king, it was one of the reasons why he avoided you at all cost. But there were times where he walked by your bedchamber. Specially in very inconvenient moments. You were arguing with your husband. After all, you still had more right to the throne than he did.

“Do you believe me as the true Queen and ruler?” You stood in front of him, tears pricking at your eyes. After years, you still resented the fact that a man stole your birthright.

“Why must I need jesters when I have you, my dear?” Richard laughed, shaking his head. “The throne is not something you deserve. It’s something you take.”

“How dare you.” You paced around the bedchamber, your hands toying with the fabric of your gown.

“Do you think your father named you heir because he thought you’d be fit to rule? He chose you because he was afraid of me, my family, my house. Because he knew that our legacy, unlike his own, would never be outshined. And because he knew that as long as you were heir, peace would exists and he would keep us under his thumb. He thought of you weak enough to never be able to lead a war. Because you were born a woman.”

You stared at the man. Woman. Why was that an insult? Why? You had more royal blood in your pinky finger than him in his whole body. You were pure blood and he was a bastard. Yet the only important thing was that he had a cock and you did not?

“You’re pathetic.” You muttered as you got closer to him. The King did not like to get insulted, let alone by you.

“You do know, that insulting and challenging me won’t make you grow a cock if you don’t already posses one? And perhaps if you had one, you’d be more pleasant to be around.”

You scoffed, a part of you felt hurt, but you took it in, tried to not let it get to you in front of him. But as you turned to look at the door, it was slightly open, and there you saw him. Austin.

After the argument, you made sure to make your way towards Austin’s bedchamber. You knocked on the large wooden door, to which his voice rang through.

“Yes?” He spoke, his voice sounded a bit nervous.

“Will you let me in?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“I don’t think so, your Grace.” Austin stuttered, oh, he was scared. He already knew you hated him, what stopped you from wanting to kill him?

“Do you think if I wanted you dead I would let a wooden door in my own castle, filled with my own guards, stop me?” Was this kid dumb? Dumber than you, at least he wasn’t that pleasantly blessed.

“No, your Grace.” He spoke before opening the door slowly. You made your way inside. His bedchamber although smaller than yours, was pleasantly warm.

“You must have overheard the conversation between the King and I.” You said, your eyes scanning Austin.

You hated his skin that looked like uncooked puff pastry, his wide blue eyes that looked like daisies on the spring. He looked like an angel brought back to life. You didn’t know if you wanted to have him hanged or if you wished to have him under your skirts. French kissing your cunt until you came all over his dumb and pretty face.

“It wasn’t my intention, your Grace. I swear it to you.” Austin stuttered. “I was passing by and could not help but overhear it. But I could not help but offer you my sorrows. It must be hard dealing with his Grace.”

“Really? How tolerant of you.” You said, smirking. “Dear God, you’re perfect, aren’t you? You— fuck my husband then come here and offer your condolences after he mistreats me once more.”

The color from his face disappeared as soon as you said that. It’s not like he had any saying, what the king said, went.

“It is not my saying. Believe. I cannot deny what the King says, good sister. You must know that. I did not expect that to become my role when I came here to court.” Austin was quick to come up with excuses. “You know, good sister, my mother once told me that men—“

You interrupted him harshly. “Nobody cares what your dear mother told you.”

His face fell, you only smirked even more. You looked around his chamber once more.

“Wine. You have wine?”

“It’s a bit early in the day for me to drink wine, your Grace.” Austin said, innocence in his tone. He never drank, not until supper. And even then, he drank very little.

“You annoy me. Every breath you take even in the same perimeter as me annoys me. So here’s what we will do. I want you to not even think of looking at me. And if you ever call me good sister again,” You spoke harshly, talking closer to him. “I’ll have my men rip out your tongue with their hands.”

You saw his face contort in horror. Who wouldn’t fear you? After all you were the second most powerful person in the kingdom.

Months went by and to Austin, your relationship with him was confusing. He didn’t quite understand it. He admired you, he truly did. But he found it very hard to understand if you liked him or loathed him. Sometimes he himself though he loathed your sole existence as Queen consort.

You weren’t nice to him, at least that’s not how he saw it. Your comments always masked with a silk of kindness to try and hide the venom. You were a viper dressed in fine clothing. Everyone at court was a viper.

But you could walk amongst them and not get attacked. Thats what made you even more cunning, knowing how much power you held.

But it never fulfilled you, not matter how many people were scared of you, how many power you held over a council, because all you wanted was to be respected, not feared. But being a woman, it was the only way of keeping yourself safe. Being feared.

If only you had been born a man, perhaps a civil war wouldn’t have occurred in the first place. Perhaps you would had grown to sit on the throne, wear your father’s crown in your head, rule over all kingdoms. But it would never happen. You were only left with the fear, the fear of being replaced, killed, set aside.

In the comfort of your bedchamber, you would cry while drinking wine, sometimes you would just drink wine. Stare out the high window.

One night, you drank wine in your bedchamber, your handmaidens embroidering on the floor. When the door of your bedchamber opened, your sworn guard entered, announcing a guest.

“The Lord Austin Soltheris, your Grace.” Your guard moved and there came in the blond boy. A part of you scoffed, but then, after taking another tip of wine, you spoke.

“Clear the room.” You said, your handmaidens and sworn guards left immediately, closing the door behind you. You leaned back on the chair, staring at Austin.

“Your Grace.” He bowed immediately. You chuckled softly, you weren’t tipsy, you had grown very fond of wine. It didn’t affect you as much as before.

“Sit.” You commanded him, to which he listened. God, you could stare into those blue eyes for hours.

“I thought I’d come in and look in on you, your Grace. You have not been attending supper at the great hall.”

“How— sweet of you. You’re perfect.” You mocked him. “Worrying for your queen. I must admit that not even my husband worries for my absence. Mayhaps I should tell my husband that his favorite delight has been trying to get rather close to me.”

Austin immediately shook his head. “Your grace, please. I am only trying to do what’s best for my house. I have no ill intentions nor am I trying to use the impetuousness of my youth. You must believe me.”

Oh, you stared at him horrified. You had said those exact same words once when you were forced to wed Richard. How you plead for him to see the good side of you, to know that you weren’t a threat to him.

“Let me give you an advice, summer child.” You took another sip from your goblet. “Don’t ever do that again. As now I know how desperate you are for protection. You are at my mercy, it must be difficult to keep it inside but the more people that know you’re afraid, the weaker you get. Because they know how to take advantage of you.”

You said, swirling your goblet, the wine seemed to be the less of your interests now.

“I love his grace.” He said, gulping. But it was too late to try and pretend to know what he was doing.

“You don’t fool anyone, Austin. You’re as naive as they come. I see why my husband likes you.” You said, raising your eyebrow. “You’re just like me. A pretender.”

“I don’t understand, your Grace.” Austin looked at you in concussion. Yes, he was lying about loving the King, he just wanted protection, it didn’t matter how he had to gain it. But there hadn’t been much going around with the king, the king was always too drunk anyways.

“A pretty face isn’t your only weapon, the best one is between your legs. Be proud of how you decide to use it. Drink.” You gave him your goblet. To which he took a small sip. “Not like that. Drink.”

He drank, but his eyes stayed on. Oh, how sweetly the fox moved when it’s surrounded by the hound.

The boy stared at you with such intensity, you could tell he wanted you. Which men in the kingdom did not desire to eat you like a piece of cake anyways? You understood. You were beautiful. The most beautiful woman.

A few cups of wine between you two, and a few stolen kisses, ended with Austin’s face between your legs. His tongue attacking your cunt. He had undressed you, you were completely exposed to him.

You tugged at his hair, even if that was extremely satisfying, it wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough for you. You grinded your hips a little, your left hand gripped the armrest of the chair.

“What a good boy I have.” You moaned, your voice obviously tightened. “Aren’t you a good boy?”

He hummed, his blue eyes staring up at your face. He looked pathetic, eating you out like a starved man. Like a fucking commoner or a harlot from a brothel.

You you tugged his hair and pulled him apart from your cunt, his lips plump and swollen already, his big blue eyes staring up at you.

“You’ll listen to what I say.” You said firmly.

“Yes, your Grace.” Austin nodded, his eyes made you want to fuck him. You felt as powerful as a man could feel before fucking a young maiden.

He was your young and beautiful maiden. Just for you to ruin.

You made him lay in his back on the bed, you were going to ride his face like a man rode a stallion. You positioned yourself, his nose and mouth inches away from your exposed fold, once he started tongue fucking your first, you were a different woman, you were moaning out all sorts of things. You sounded like a bitch in heat. But as you rode his face, as he grunted and grabbed your thighs, you were in complete ecstasy and you knew that God would punish you.

You were committing adultery, you were getting your lust get in your way. But right now you didn’t care, not when this felt so good.

You were reaching your peak, you had never felt this kind of pleasure.

“Just like that!” You were able to scream loudly, as you finished over his face, you were riding out your orgasm. You laid back on your bed, panting as he tried to catch his breath. Feeling guilty, he stood up immediately, pacing around.

“What have I done? I have defiled my house, my honor, my body.” He paced around, guilt ever-consuming. This was treason. “Must I confess this? Should I?”

“You won’t confess anything. You are not the first one, boy. One of the King’s squires, Sir Lance Marshall, fucked me relentlessly every night whenever I asked him to. After many nights he could not handle the guilt and confessed it to my husband. Do you know where Sir Lance Marshall is now?”

Austin gulped. How many times had he not heard about the death of one of the King’s squires. “Gone.”

“What a gentle word. I would use— slaughtered. Do you must believe that the King doesn’t like snitches.” You told him. To which he immediately froze. He did not want to be slaughtered. Not at all.

“But, my Queen. I must— I will go to hell.”

“And I will burn by your side.” You stood up and walked towards him, your hand touching his soft cheek.

“But my house. I should have not defiled my honor. I have tainted my house’s name. I am not even married. I should repent in Church and then go back—” he spoke like a terrified child, it made you laugh. But you had seen how eager he had been to please you. And you wouldn’t minds keeping him around as your delight.

“You will not do such thing. As your Queen, you are commanded to remain in court and by my side.” Your touch became much rougher, it made him whimper.

“Understood, your Grace. I promise I’ll do my best to keep you pleased.” He said softly, he sounded like a wounded puppy.

You had him at your mercy, how fun is that?

You were all smiles while you were breaking your fast with your husband, you spent night after night by the company of that stupid boy.

If you couldn’t be him, why not fuck him? It made sense in your mind. Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.

“Why are you smiling?” The King asked you as he stopped eating, he raised his eyebrow.

“Because I am happy.” You smiled as you lifted your goblet.

“Why are you happy?” This was the happiest your husband had ever seen you in a decade.

Your smile was genuine, which was suspiciously concerning. At least to him. You rarely smiled like this anymore. Only when there was any kind of interaction you despised or when you got compliments.

You smiled even wider as he asked you that. You stood up and walked to the head of the table, where he sat, you placed your goblet down, you leaned in.

“Because I have your little whore.”

The King’s face fell, there was no way you two were fucking the same exact boy. To which, you weren’t, Austin only fucked you. The King was always to drunk to remember that the boy never even touched him.

“And do remember, my King…” you took another sip of your wine. “It is only considered treason if he finishes inside.”

#austin butler #austinbutler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler is so hot

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vibratingskull · 3 months ago

Note

Hello, hello. I am obsessed with your stories .

I would like to ask you to write a Thrawn x f!reader . Thrawn is in love with the reader, and she refuses him. but she is actually very much in love with him. She believes she would never come first for him and that even she will be expendable to him should it come to that. Which is why she refused him.

Thank you my dear ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ I am sorry for the delay

Thrawn x F!reader

tags : misunderstanding, heart to heart, love confession, (kinda?)hurt/comfort

Your heart is pounding.

Peacefully seated at his desk, Grand Admiral Thrawn analyzes your latest work. You worked your ass off on these data, crossing all of those dates, GPS coordinates, vids information, and alien propaganda speeches to FINALLY locate the hideouts of those rebels! But you fucking did it!

You’re not the Chimaera’s Commander for nothing!

You were so much lower on your latest ship, underestimated and underappreciated. You made one singular mistake in the entirety of your career! And it earned you a transfer to the Chimaera, under then Vice Admiral Thrawn’s command, where a lot of the outcasts of the Navy ended up. A sign of shame and failure, being put under the only Alien of the Navy was worse than being demoted or laid off for some.

But very quickly

The tendance shifted.

Thrawn has a natural talent : to find and refine others’ strengths, like a jeweler carefully polishes a precious gemstone. People who were judged useless under others’ orders suddenly started to flourish and gave good results, incredibly good results even ! Their enthusiasm and motivation crushed at their former posts reappeared, stronger than ever !

Thrawn took the losers he was given, nurtured their strong suits, and turned them into one of the most efficient crews the Empire ever had !

Commodore Faro and you were prime examples of Thrawn’s strong management talent and leadership. Diminished on other ships, unstoppable on the Chimaera !

And when Thrawn reached the rank of Grand Admiral in the record time of a single decade, all the snake tongues were forced to recognize his undeniable success and tactical genius. As they always should have!

All those factors now make the Chimaera the most requested ship by ensigns and Navy workers of any field. From soldier to machinist, data scientist to engineer, to officer, all come knocking at Thrawn’s door to be part of the crew that will make History with a big H !

And you are one of them. Welcomed and guided by the Man himself you are part of his core team, his strongest supporter and follower. You are part of the Chimaera’s crew as you are part of a family, under Thrawn’s wise guidance.

And…

If you are honest with yourself and look at the bottom of your soul, the worryingly strong and fast beating of your heart might not just be because of the stress of having your work reviewed by a superior.

But because of something else entirely...

Something taboo, that should not exist between a Grand Admiral and his Commander of any respectable fleet.

But you just cannot calm down your heart when you cross gaze with his shining rubies, you cannot help your blood rushing to your cheeks, the slight wobbliness of your legs, the air getting stuck in your throat when you have to speak to him.

‘’Very good, Commander (Y/n). A remarkable job of investigation in a record time !’’ Thrawn finally declares, looking at you with a satisfied little grin, ‘’You can be proud of yourself.’’

‘’Thank you Grand Admiral.’’ You slightly bow your head to him with respect, ‘’Some data scientists did a wonderful job gathering all of that information, I would not have done it without their efforts.’’

‘’You will need to give me their name, so I can keep a closer tab on them.’’ He slowly nods in approval.

‘’I will make you a list, Sir.’’

‘’Did anyone else caught your eyes ?’’

‘’Sir ?’’ You demand, ‘’Is it not Commodore Faro’s prerogative ?’’

‘’It is. It is also the prerogative of any of my officers I estimate. I value your opinion and judgment more than some of my fellow Grand Admirals, if you notice someone’s good work getting unappreciated I want you to come to me.’’

‘’Sir, I think you have no trouble noticing it yourself.’’ You cannot help but chuckle.

He keeps looking at you, a tight satisfied grin on his lips, soft and found. His eyes seem to shine brighter.

‘’What?’’ You ask before his insisting gaze, still shaken by your laugh.

‘’Nothing. I simply enjoy hearing your laugh. It is such a delectable sound, it alleviates my stress and appeases my mind.’’ He tilts his head, focused on you.

Your smile falters and the laugh dies down immediately. You close back on yourself, pressing your datapad against your chest.

You cannot permit yourself such things...

‘’With your permission, sir, I will take my leave.’’ You say, recovering your detached and professional tone, cutting short the conversation.

His shoulders ever so lightly lower down and his smile disappears, like he is... Disappointed. But his expression remains unshakable.

‘’Of course, Commander. You may go, I wish you a peaceful and restful sleep.’’

You curtly nod, murmur a ‘you too, Sir’ so low you wonder he even heard it, and exit the large office rapidly. You walk swiftly in the long and bright corridors of the Chimaera, a maze you know by heart.

A maze you now call home.

Your datapad pressed against your breast as to hide your sprinting heart from anyone who might cross your path you walk straight and fast, head raised high but gaze low on the floor. You gulp with difficulty trying to order your boiling mind.

Grand Admiral Thrawn is nothing but professional, courteous, and polite. He never makes any crass comments of any kind or insinuations, the only compliments leaving his lips are praises for a work well done or a cunning attitude.

That is all!

Except for you.

It has been several months now since he started to casually compliment you on... Anything really. He always found a little something to compliment you over every day.

Always respectful and within the bounds of morality.

He started as with anyone else, a ‘Good work’ here, a ‘Pertinent observation’ there, a ‘successful mission.’ sprinkled in.

And one day it was ‘This new hair style compliment your features wonderfully.’ Out of the blue and with no warning. He said it casually, with his usual nonchalance and detachment, and you simply assumed he was in an exceptionally good mood to compliment someone for something so mundane and out of his usual zone of comfort.

But this is highly unusual behavior for him!

You never heard him compliment anyone’s hairstyle, choice of blush, or capacity to keep their uniform clean. But he started doing it for you. A little one every day, a constant stream of praise day by day...

And if you brushed it off the first time, the second was heavily suspicious.

He may slip off one time. But never two.

It was intentional on his part! It must have been.

He also started to take more caff breaks when you took one. He always appears three to five minutes after you, takes a fuming cup of caff, engages in some conversation with you, and gets back to the bridge a maximum of two minutes before you, down to the second.

Sometimes he does not even take a single sip of his drink, preferring to speak with you about the current campaign, but mostly art, his special interest. If you wished to speak about your interests, he becomes absolutely mute.

But he listens to you rambling attentively because when you come back to the subject a week or so later, he recalls a myriad of details of different importance with excruciating precision about anything you spoke of.

If you are already talking to someone else, he does not insert himself in the conversation unless invited, preferring to take a seat at a table to sip his drink in complete silence.

His gaze fixes his cup or the propaganda posters on the walls but always seems to come back to you, like you were a light in the darkness... You can feel his burning eyes on the back of your neck. But it does not feel like a burnt wound. Instead, it simply feels like... A heat source on your neck, a warm point that gently spreads on your skin... And when you spin your head in his direction to spot him, his eyes are back on his cup.

But you do feel his warm gaze on you...

You KNOW it.

For some reason, he is trying to deepen your relationship.

And while your heart pumps like a machine at that simple thought, you also know you should stifle that hope in its infancy.

Thrawn... Is a man married to his job. War is the very purpose of his existence and he excels at it, why would he weigh himself down with a relationship?

He either wants a short casual fling, which you would never guess was his style, or he wants something deeper... A real relationship with you.

And those possibilities terrify you.

When you love, you love generously, pouring your very own blood into the relationship, giving endlessly to please your partner. And it cost you a lot in the past, you were used and cast aside after countless times. So many tears were wasted for partners who only saw you as a commodity. You promised yourself to never fall for someone who does not make you their priority anymore!

But you fell for Grand Admiral Thrawn, despite your better judgment and best efforts.

He is a man of integrity, intelligence, charisma, and elegance, you did not feel any malice or will to hurt others in him which is surprisingly uncommon in the Navy hierarchy of the Empire.

And he is very far from being displeasing to look at! His alien features even reinforce his natural charm, his face is harmonious and delicate with sharp intelligent eyes.

Really, everything seems to make him a wonderful romantic partner in theory.

But the theory doesn’t account for the first love of his life: work.

You will never come before his first love, and as a Grand Admiral maybe you should not, but that stabs your heart.

Once again you fell for the wrong one.

If only you were smitten, you could manage. But the fact that he seemed to take an interest in you in return, offers you his gentle words and careful attention complicates absolutely everything!

You should not fall for that trap again! You do not want to!

But how to refuse such a man? How to look in his carmine gaze and stand your ground? It is demanding a will you simply do not possess, so now you run away from any new attempt from him. You respond coldly and sternly at any non-work related praises and leave the room swiftly.

He never tries to hold you back, accepting your choice.

That does not make it any easier for you. If you falter ONCE and give him hope that it is possible, you may fall again and hurt yourself, deeper this time.

You survived your exes but could you survive Grand Admiral Thrawn’s love?

Nothing is less certain.

So you run away like a coward, feeling his fond gaze on your form.

Never again...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thrawn sighs internally, his eyes fixed on the door you just exited through like a persistent image of you would appear to him if he focused on it.

Again, you fled.

He is used to it by now. He compliments you on anything not work-related and you shut off completely.

What did he expect exactly anyway? Love stories between superiors and subalterns in a fleet are such a cliche of movies without any grounds in reality. He heard of some in the Ascendancy and the Empire and none ended well.

But for some months he had that fleeting hope, that childish wish that something was possible between you two.

He was the first surprised to realize he had feelings for you. He welcomed you under his commands as every other officer sent to him and you worked together for some time to find your strengths and give you the appropriate post for your skills.

He was proud to see you grow and mature, witnessing your skills sharpening day by day until you wield them like a deadly blade with the utmost precision. Your true talents were revealed and your name started to be passed around and other ship captains started to court you for a transfer.

It happens a lot. A lot of officers he trained were transferred to other fleets and he only heard good about them since then, even Commodore Faro was heavily requested by others for her next promotion, and while he would only feel pride and accomplishment to let her go lead her own forces as she deserves to, he only felt a deep and insidious cold course his flesh when your name appeared in the requests.

At first, he rationalized it. He concluded that it was too soon for you to leave his tutelage yet, he could still teach you more before seeing you fly away. But the more transfer requests he received, the colder he felt, and the more uneasy he was.

It was like... lacking air. Like he tried to breathe desperately but his throat was so contracted no air could reach his lungs. But those uncomfortable sensations melted in your presence. Next to you, everything felt right and natural once again, like it was meant to be.

Slowly your grip on his being started to tighten, like a frog boiling in a pot.

He never felt like that and it was starting to worry him. He could not let a single person have so much power over him, it would be too dangerous for his ultimate goal, but each time you appeared in his field of vision, all his worries vanished and a warm sensation spread in his chest, his heart felt wrapped in silk and everything was good again.

And then

The first wet dream came.

He had some in his early teenage years when hormones did their work as for everyone else. But he always only saw a faceless, nameless figure in his arms at night. And then they just disappeared altogether, promptly sorted and locked in his well-organized mind and no further dream came to disturb his sleep.

But that morning he was lying in bed, completely dumbfounded. His eyes wide open, fixed on the ceiling he tried to understand what that dream meant. For the very first time, he saw a face.

Your face.

So clearly.

And what a dream it was...

He observed his trembling hands for a moment, trying to make sense of all of that. Did his control over his flesh and body start to loosen after all this time?

Was he softening up?

He greeted his teeth and went on with his day. At that moment, he convinced himself it was lust.

Just lust.

Simple in theory but completely new to him, nobody ever disturbed his flesh like that before and it was quite annoying in his opinion. Obviously, it was only his problem, he could not reasonably hold you responsible for the weakness of his mind and body. He must deal with it alone and not let it disturb his focus!

But he only had to hear your voice...

Hear the melodic notes of your laugh...

Admire the light in your human eyes...

To know that he was in much more trouble than he first thought.

It was not lust.

It was love.

A first for him once again, and at that point he was convinced it would never happen! Not that he would mind, honestly. Heart matters seem more troublesome than anything else...

But you assuredly walked into his life and as assuredly took his heart from his chest to keep it with you like a lovely thief, you fondly kissing it every day with your perfect lips, making it beat faster, to the point he felt it could implode at any moment.

That day he complimented you on your new hairstyle. Out of nowhere. He greeted you, let you know how lovely you were, and walked away without any other word.

Why did he do that? Beats him.

He saw you and felt the irrepressible desire to compliment you, but the usual work praises did not feel enough to calm down the raging storm rising in his chest at that moment.

And it all derailed from here.

He kept the compliments coming and welcomed your disincarnated embrace in his dreams at night, craving to feel your real arms wrapping around him to hug him.

He felt the need to follow you when you took your breaks as any minute away from you felt like death. He instigated casual conversations with you, trying to get you to open up to him. But you kept it so clean and professional; Would it be anyone else he would be thankful for that but he wants you to reveal your heart to him.

He would take anything! Just learning your favorite color would satisfy his cravings for a month.

You slowly relaxed around him, accepting to speak a bit about yourself, as much as it was morally acceptable for a Commander to say to her Grand Admiral. He noted every minute detail you let escape in his mind with meticulousness, creating a map of you in his head.

He let you speak, not daring to interrupt you. He could listen to you describing paint dry.

Of course, he knew how to stop. If you were talking to a colleague he respected your privacy, if he felt you uncomfortable at any moment he would take his leave.

And for a time he fantasized about waking next to you in the same bed, rings shining at your fingers. And it was sweet and soft...

But you are not receptive.

So he buried that dream and slowly prepared to walk away from you. Each time he compliments you your face hardens and your tone gets colder and aloof.

But for a split second...

You bite your lips and he witnesses your heart accelerating in his infrared vision.

And you cannot take that away from him. No matter how harshly you cut the conversation short. Those little compliments are his little pleasures, his only fancy. The only thing he allows himself to savor in secret.

His eyes fall again on the datapad in his hand. With a gesture of the finger, he swipes the file to let appear the latest captain’s request to transfer you to their ship.

Soon he will say goodbye to you, but at least he should make sure you get the best post possible...

------------------------------------------------------

“Oh Maker...” Karyn makes her spine pop with a sigh of relief, “Today was long!”

“Indeed.” You chuckle, “It was pretty dry and boring!”

You both head to the bar of the officer mess hall.

“Two beers!” Karyn orders, “I am done with work for the day! I need to relax.”

Your shift finished 10 minutes ago, you are officially free for the rest of the day, and a fresh beer seems delectable right now! You sit next to your friend, clink your glasses, and take a large gulp with delight.

“That’s the stuff!” You gasped.

“True! I need to get drunk tonight or I will go crazy!” Karyn declares slamming her glass down the bar.

You look at her with silent questions in your eyes, inviting her to speak more. She snarls, licking her white teeth.

“I feel like the Grand Admiral is trying to slow me down.”

“What?” You ask incredulously.

“He interfered so I could not become Commander of Task Force 231.” She reveals, her head sitting in her hand, annoyed.

You freeze, contemplating what she just said to you. Would Grand Admiral Thrawn truly do that? Voluntarily sabotaging his own Commodore’s career?

No.

You cannot believe that!

“I am sure he had a reason. He is a fair man, you deserve to lead your own troops, maybe he has a bigger plan for you.”

She turns her head towards you, gauging you up and down before sneering shortly.

“I forgot who I was talking to.”

You nudge her playfully, earning another snigger.

“You know I am objective. Even about him!” You counter.

“Mmmmh. Maybe you are, maybe not.” She taunts, taking another sip, “All right! I think it is time for some women talks. How things are going with your Chiss?”

“He isn’t my Chiss, Karyn.” You remind her, “We are not together.”

“Which is highly surprising in my opinion with how interested he is.”

Your grip tightens around your glass, your eyes hypnotized by the ale in front of you.

“He is not interested.” You try to assert.

“Arh, do not use that charade with me, (Y/n)! We are both past it, he devours you with his eyes and tried an infinite amount of time to speak with you. He never showed such interest in anyone since I work under him!”

“He is just trying to be friendly.” You recoil more on your seat.

“Maker fricking... (Y/n)!” She starts losing patience “We both know that is bullshit. I am tired of seeing your beaten puppy look every day, talk to him!”

“... And say what? Explain to me what I am supposed to say, ‘Sorry, I am in love with you but you’ll probably relegate me to the bottom of your priority list, so no chance?’”

“Why do you assume he would relegate you to the bottom of his priority list?”

You turn to her with a raised eyebrow and a tired smile.

“Because he is a Grand Admiral and married to his job? Because if I did come before his duties that would put us all in danger and jeopardize his entire career? Because it is simply impossible? Because he will not risk his goal for a single relationship?”

Usually, you love goal-oriented partners, but you just wish they would make some place for you in their lives and not just see you as an appliance to take advantage of. You want them to be your supporter as you are theirs, but you have been let down so many times...

“(Y/n)...”

You sigh.

“It is so hard, you know? To see him every day, to feel his grip around my heart compressing it until no blood is left. I feel like I am drowning in love and despair, I feel his gaze on my skin and I go weak. He plagues my dreams every night and I wake up cold and arms empty.”

“(Y/n)?” Karyn whispers, “Maybe you should-”

“It just hurts so much. To have him so close, to see Thrawn every day, excelling in his career and craving he would give me the same attention... Some nights I cry in my bed because I feel so empty.”

“Hum, (Y/n)...?” Karyn slightly stiffens.

“But what can I do?” You put your head in your hands with a long sigh “I promised myself not to fall again and I tripped over my feet when I met him. He is the textbook definition of whom I should avoid at all costs but I fell face first in the permabeton. At that point it’s a pattern, I am searching to get hurt. I am weak... I am pathetic but I love him!” You feel sobs rising in your throat and your eyes start to get wet, “Why is it so hard? Why can’t I forget these sentiments with a snap of fingers? Why do I have to live with this? Why-”

“(Y/n)!” Karyn shushes you with a hard whisper, gripping your shoulder to shake you.

You turn your head to her and she designates something on the other side discreetly. You turn your head again and almost fall from your stool.

Right there, at the other side of the bar, a fuming cup of caff in his hand, Grand Admiral Thrawn sits, perfectly calm and composed.

But more importantly, at eavesdropping distance.

You immediately focus back on your ale, head full and spinning.

He heard you!

You know he did, he always hears everything in a room!

You are so done for! You are royally fucked! You are so...

“Maybe he did not hear, maybe he-” Karyn doesn’t have the time to finish her sentence, you get down your stool and leave the mess hall, ditching them both without a single word.

You need to disappear! And quickly!

-------------------------------------------------

Thrawn lifts his cup to his lips elegantly, peacefully sipping the scorching hot caff.

But inside he is anything but peaceful.

“I am sorry, sir.” Karyn Faro finally says, tensing up before her full glass.

“What for?” Thrawn asks, putting his down delicately, eyes fixed on his cup.

She purses her lips, clearly embarrassed and uneasy.

“This was not planned.” She explains.

“I know.” He simply responds, “You are not one to expose other’s affairs.” He reassures her.

He contemplates his reflection in the dark beverage, the steam lazily rising towards the ceiling while his stomach drops low.

Is it how you truly see him? How you perceive his personhood? Is it his true value in your heart?

He did not intend to listen to you! He just wanted to sit in your vicinity while drinking his caff and then anonymously leave without you noticing he was even there, leaving you two speaking peacefully. He did not intend to pry in your private conversation so impolitely!

But when he understood you were talking about him he could not help but perk his ear.

He almost froze hearing you professing your love for him and for a split second his soul sang.

Only for the high to crash down spectacularly with your next words.

So this is it, then? Your choice is made and your opinion is decided. This relationship will not be?

You will not give him even a single chance to prove his worth?

And he will let you go without trying to correct you?

And everything will be over without even starting.

You will now avoid him until he accepts a transfer request and he will never see you ever again, only hearing rumors of you thriving away from him, leaving him alone and cold to face his destiny and fate?

Without your support?

Without the music of your voice to help him carry through?

Without the reflection of light in your gorgeous eyes to appease his worries?

Without the warmth of your reassuring presence at his side?

...

No.

He slams his cup down and stands on his feet.

“Sir?” Commodore Faro asks as he walks away, decided.

He can’t.

This is beyond him.

This is the first time he is in love, he simply cannot let you go without at least trying to plead his case!

This would kill him.

He knew it was dangerous. Deep down he knew that keeping you at his side was not the tactical-sounding choice. He prophetized before that keeping you around would give you too much power over him, but he would lie if he did not admit that he hoped it would happen deep down his soul. That your grip on his heart was as strangling as it was soothing, that a brush of your hand could command his mood.

Your power over him was nothing about hierarchy, was not wicked or dangerous like those he experienced before in the Ascendancy and the Empire. It was comforting, soothing, soft but strong.

The kind of power he would submit to with glee because he knew no harm could ever come of it. Because that power was meant to bring you together...

He just cannot!

He walks deadly focused ahead, with long strides in the corridors of the Chimaera. His shift resumes in less than 5 minutes but this is the least of his worries right now!

For the very first time in his life, work will wait. He has to clear the air with you first!

It doesn’t take too much time for him to find you. He is quicker than you and he would not let you escape like that!

You are walking rapidly toward your cabin to lock yourself up most probably. Seeing your back walking away from him like that infuriates him somehow, he is offended!

“Commander (Y/n) (F/n), stop!” He exclaims with an authoritative voice.

You shudder, but instead of obeying you pick up the pace.

You...!

“Commander! I order you to stop right now!” He orders louder, accelerating behind you.

You take four more steps before giving up and stop. You remain still, back turned to him, awaiting his next commands.

He approaches you, already regretting his order. He closes the distance between you and places his hand on your shoulder.

You shudder at the contact and he retracts it immediately.

“Commander (F/n)...(Y/n), I am sorry.” He finally announces after several seconds of silence and stillness, “I would like to discuss some of your words earlier.”

“Stop.” you finally speak.

Thrawn almost gulp at your tone

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said stop.” You repeat, “I do not have to hear that.”

Thrawn squints. This is the very first time you cut him like that. This is the first time a subordinate ever cut him...

“I can take an earful if I make a professional mistake. But that... You do not have any right to impose that on me.” You explain.

“Turn around and face me.” He orders softly.

Your hands roll into fists but you slowly turn toward him. You take care not to look into his eyes, preferring to focus on his Grand Admiral badge. Your lips are pressed in a thin line, displeasure clearly apparent on your face.

Thrawn refrains from cupping your cheeks in his hands to hold you lovingly. Instead, he claps them behind his back, preparing himself for the battle ahead.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

“I simply wish to talk.” He reiterates, “This is not an unreasonable demand.”

Your nostril flares but you add nothing.

“(Y/n), is what you said true?” He demands sternly.

So he did hear you, as you feared.

“Sir, this is highly unprofessional.”

“I am aware, but I feel like we need to have this discussion.”

“No, we do not. If you insist I will file a report for sexual harassment.” You bite back, acidic.

You need to cut that conversation short. You need to escape.

“With what proofs?” Thrawn tilts his head.

The tone is not mocking or threatening, it is calm, assured, and simply factual. You both know you have nothing against him, he never tried anything against your consent and always remained within the bounds of morality.

“We both know you will do none of that, (Y/n). You are too good to make false accusations on such a grave matter.”

You greet your teeth as you raise your frowning gaze to meet his.

“Am I?”

His stern and cold expression relaxes to let appear a tight, fond smile as the glow of his eyes seems to brighten.

“Of course. Your ethics are too strong to slander an innocent man and tarnish victims’ testimony of such a heinous crime.”

You snarl, flashing your teeth to him.

But you have no rebuttal. He is right. You would not do such a thing to victims who already have difficulties to have their voices heard.

“I simply wish to clear the air and tell you my truth.” He takes another step toward you, “This is all I am asking for.”

The smile is gone but quiet hope burns in his red eyes.

You gulp. You told your sentiments to Karyn, but revealing them to his face, admitting them to his eyes... That would kill you on the spot!

“I wish to hear it from you. Tell me the truth, please.” He insists with a softer tone

Almost... begging.

Your lungs tighten in your ribcage, preventing you from breathing correctly while your throat dries up. You open your mouth be no sound escapes you.

“Take your time.” Thrawn invites, his eyes shining so bright you cannot see any pupils anymore.

“What for?!” You spit annoyed, “What would ever come of that discussion anyway?! Our expectations do not coincide!”

Thrawn seems to tense up ever so slightly at your words, like he was hurt.

But that would mean you have the means to reach and hurt him, and you seriously doubt you do. Either way, he needs to hear it, you cannot just brush past all that like the world is a wonderful peaceful place. You both have jobs and a relationship would just complicate everything!

“You do no-” Thrawn stops immediately, looking behind you suddenly, “Someone is coming.”

You turn your head full of hope. Finally, your ticket to exit that predicament!

But before you can see anyone or anything you feel a large hand grabbing your arm and pulling you. You yelp in surprise when Thrawn pulls you inside a cramped and dark room and the door slams shut behind you.

You pull yourself together and realize you are inside a closet. A very small closet. So small Thrawn needs to press you against himself for it to hold you both inside. You gasp, your cheek pressed against his large muscular chest, his long arms wrapped around your shoulders.

“Sir!” You whisper indignantly, “This is-”

“Silence.” He shushes you, “They are approaching...”

You huff but remain silent. After some seconds you can hear a group of people discussing and approaching the door. You tense up, praying no one will open it and bust you in Thrawn’s arms...

“Relax.” He whispers with his rich deep voice, a hand coming to caress your hair to soothe you like you were a cat or something.

“This was unnecessary, Sir!” You complain with a low voice.

“You would have preferred we continue this private conversation with them around?” He responds deadpan.

You growl, putting your hands on his pecs to put some distance between you, but his grip is firm around you and the closet is really confined. You abandon that idea and give up, awaiting for the group to walk away, and then you’ll rush out and sprint away from the Chiss.

You try to calm down your beating heart, feeling Grand Admiral Thrawn’s high body temperature through his uniform, your cheek getting pleasantly warm at his contact.

Is that... Is that his heart that you feel beating against your cheek?

You refrain from sniggering. Of course, this is his heart, but it amuses you to realize that he does have one... He who is always so stern and cold, detached and unbothered does have a heart after all!

You close your eyes, silently focusing on the steady drum in his chest. If they open the closet door and bust you, you cannot do anything to stop it now, no use in stressing yourself out or causing trouble in the confined space.

Did Thrawn feel you relaxing in his embrace? A soft and deep rumble starts in his chest and throat, like a...

“Chiss can purr?” You murmur flabergasted.

“Indeed.” He reveals, “Pardon me, I have some difficulties keeping it at bay with you in my arms.”

You add nothing, too shocked by this revelation.

“It isn’t... unpleasant.” You finally admit, a bit reluctantly.

The purr deepens at your praise and he lays his chin on the top of your head. For some second you wonder if he is about to kiss your head, but he remains like that, continuing to caress your hair, unbothered.

“Why don’t you want to tell me the truth?” He finally asks after a minute of silence, listening to the group that seems to have stopped just before your hiding spot.

“There is nothing to say.”

“You revealed your sentiment to Commodore Karyn. Why revealing them to me is impossible for you?”

You sigh longly, eyes lost in the darkness of the broom closet, trying to formulate a coherent sentence with all those sentiments and emotions raging inside of you.

“I have been hurt in the past.” You just say.

“And you are afraid I will hurt you the same?” Thrawn whispers with his rich voice.

“I am not ‘afraid’ you will, I know you will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“They did it out of commodity and maybe malice, you would do it out of necessity.”

“I cannot imagine a situation where I would hurt you, even out of necessity.” He negociates.

“No, it’s just...” You sigh, taking a deep breath, “I have been used before and now I want someone who would make me their priority, not just an afterthought!”

His grip tightens ever so slightly around your shoulders and his purr stops, signifying that he is closely listening to our worries.

“I do not plan to make you an afterthought in any capacity. If we start a relationship I will make sure to take care of you to the best of my capacities.”

“You are a Grand Admiral, your agenda is full to the brim, and your days are packed. What kind of attention can you still spare at the end of a shift? You will drop like a fly, Sir.”

His hand caressing your hair stops and sneaks under your chin to make you tilt your head to face him. You press your lips in a thin line as he details your face with his inquisitive gaze, unraveling your soul with his burning orbs, unclothing your heart to reveal every febrile hope and fear.

"How can you be so sure of those claims?” He simply asks, so close you can feel his breath on your lips.

“It is simple logic, Sir. You will never put me before your job, and you should not do it. But I need someone ready to put me first for once... Just once.”

He releases your chin to cup your cheek with his large palm, his thumb caressing your thin skin tenderly.

“(Y/n), I do not know what the future has in store for us, but I know I will forever regret it if I do not try with you.” He whispers, “You are right, I cannot put you before my work. But that does not mean that you should come after it. I can manage two important matters at the same time, I can take care of you while leading us to victory.”

“A lot of exes made the same promise and they left me in the dirt when they got bored.” You simply assess, feeling tired of that charade.

How many times did you dance that choreography already? Too many.

“(Y/n), do you truly think I would do that? That I would waste both of our time for mindless fun and abandon you after? If I propose to you it is because I am confident in my capacity to give you everything you need. Look into my eyes and tell me: Is this how you think I am?”

You look into his sihny eyes and sigh.

“No... I do not think you would do that...” You concede, “You are not malicious.”

“Then why not give us a chance?” He presses his forehead against yours, his thumb caressing your cheekbone.

“Because... I could not survive you...” Your throat tightens as you speak.

“What do you mean?” He demands with a soothing tone.

“I may have been able to piece myself back together after them... But you, Sir, you would kill me. You would be my death.” You admit, lowering your tone.

He tilts your head and reverently kisses your forehead in the secret darkness of the closet.

“Then let me be your life. Every day I will be the force propelling you forward if you accept to intertwine your fate with mine... If you allow me to take your hand I will devote myself to you. You deserve to be loved and cared for, (Y/n) and it would be my privilege to make it my duty.”

You sigh, tired, but lean on the warmth of his palm.

“Promise me to think about it, (Y/n).”

You hesitate, remembering all the tears and sleepless nights.

But those eyes... So assured and confident, determined and reassuring...

“... All right.”

He brushes his nose with yours, his purr resuming.

“I love you, (Y/n). You do not need to respond yet, just know that I adore you.”

In the secrecy of that tight closet, you press yourself against Grand Admiral Thrawn, selfishly reveling in the love and warmth that you refuse to give back for now.

“I do not promise anything.” You temper.

“I know. But the fact that you agreed to consider it is enough for me. I will patiently wait for you and your response. And whatever your response may be, I will not stop loving you, even from afar.”

You hesitate but finally wrap your arms around his chest, and think you felt his heart jolt at that, but you cannot be sure. What you can be sure, however, is the resuming of the purring.

You do not know what the future holds for you, but right now, his embrace is the only place you want to be in.

Even if it is selfish.

Even if it may be the only one time you ever feel it around you.

But maybe...

Not.

“If tie your fate to mine, either in love or friendship, I will devote myself to you. I promise you in this instant.”

And he reverently kisses your forehead as to seal his words.

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @thrawnspetgoose @Thrawnalani @twilekchiss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @obbicrystaleo @elise2174 @davesrightshoe @Holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni

#thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth'raw'nuruodo #thrawn x f!reader #thrawn x y/n #thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #fanfic #vibratingskull

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