#had a dream with the emperor at night | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

holybibly · 2 months

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𝔐𝔶 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔈𝔪𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰 | Seonghwa x reader

Pairing: Emperor Seonghwa x Virgin Bride reader Summary: You dreamed that your love would be like a cherry blossom - tender and beautiful, but instead you are going to get married to the Great Emperor of the Park Dynasty - the cruel and depraved "Lunar Dragon" Park Seonghwa.

Genre / Au / Trope : Smut, historical!AU, arranged marriage!AU, s2l, Royal!AU, Rating: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI Word count: 11.6 k

Warnings: Unprotected sex, deflowering, corruption kink, first time, virgin kink, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, oral, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, сreampie, rough sex, rough oral, power play, praise kink, and more.

net: @cultofdionysusnet A|N: Bunnies, as promised, I am going to spoil you with something absolutely glorious and wicked at the same time. Elegant depravity, that's what this is. Although I struggled to make this work, it has turned out to be absolutely amazing. I hope you're going to love Emperor Seonghwa as much as I love him. Have fun, bunnies, tonight is the night of the fall of the stars.

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity @0rangemilk @yellow-foxxing

"Mom, I'm so frightened..." You barely whisper as you sit in front of the luxurious, heavy, gold-framed mirror as servants scurry about you, combing your long, jet-black hair and gathering the smooth, silky tresses into a traditional wedding hairstyle. Massive gold jewelry set with rubies and topaz framed your head and secured your long scarlet veil—the veil of a virgin bride. You stared at your reflection in the mirror with large, wide-open eyes full of anxiety, your hands trembling nervously as you clasped the thin silk of the white robe in your lap. Your whole body was slightly shuddering with a sense of fear and dread that bound your chest like stems of icy roses full of sharp thorns, which wrapped around your delicate, pale bones and prevented you from taking a full breath. It was so natural to be afraid, not only of the fact that in a few hours you would be the wife of a great and powerful man, a man who had power over everything in your world—the greatest emperor of the Park Dynasty, "Lunar Dragon" Seonghwa—but also of your first wedding night.

"You should be proud of the fact that the Great Emperor has chosen you out of a million other girls, Y/N. His Majesty Emperor Seonghwa wants you and only you, and you must obey his wish without questioning and be the wife he would admire. You have my meaning, Y/N." Your mother said. She looked at the magnificent crimson robe, richly embroidered with gold thread, that the Emperor had chosen for you. The robe was magnificent, a perfect embodiment of His Majesty's exquisite taste and the ancient traditions of the ruling Park dynasty. Only surpassed by the brilliance of the great stars themselves and the hypnotic glow of Emperor Seonghwa's dark feline eyes were the stars and moons embroidered on the seemingly endless tail of your wedding gown. "After all, the empress must be a virgin when she ascends the throne; that is the tradition, and your purity and chastity will give the emperor a strong heir." Your mother's voice was calm and unemotional. It was as if she were talking about the most mundane of things, not your virginity.

Your mother had explained to you many times how things were going to go down on your wedding night. She hadn't gone into great detail, only saying that you should do your best to please the Emperor. But now you had a good idea of what would happen when you were alone with the Seonghwa, and it couldn't help but frighten you.

The marriage contract between your family and the ruling Park dynasty was made almost immediately after the birth of the current Emperor Seonghwa. Your family had many daughters, each one more beautiful than the one before. You never thought that you, the youngest of them all, would be the future wife of the Emperor. You had only met Seonghwa once, and then only briefly, remembering only his blowing in the wind silk robes, turquoise, and his long hair, the most beautiful shade of sakura blossom.

But you have heard many gossipy stories about Seonghwa, and they filled you with fear and kept you awake at night.

He was a cruel ruler—overbearing, selfish, proud, and arrogant. And Seonghwa was also absolutely insatiable; all the servants in the palace whispered about what a huge sexual appetite the emperor had and that his poor virgin bride would not be able to properly satisfy his hunger and desires. He had a huge harem of girls and handsome, exquisite young men who rotated in and out of His Majesty's chambers with an enviable frequency. Seonghwa never fucked the same concubine more than once. He could point his finger at anyone who interested him, and that person would be in his bed in no time. And tonight you will have to share his bed, and unlike the concubines who spend the night with him and then disappear into the luxurious gardens of the harem to continue their lives, you will have to stay by his side until death do you part, serving and worshipping him as your emperor and husband. And, of course, you will have to provide him with an heir—preferably more than one.

The purpose of your life is the continuation of the dynasty.

You were intensely jealous of all your sisters, who were free to choose their husbands, who were free to marry for love, now that you would be the bearer of the unbearable burden of the crown. You never asked for it; you never wished for it. Seonghwa was extremely wealthy; he was the most powerful ruler in the world. He enslaved and conquered lands as if it were child's play. Even though the Emperor showered you with jewelry and gave you lavish gifts to marry, you didn't care. He would never love you, and you couldn't imagine a world where you could have love and desire for a man who knew nothing but the flames of war and debauchery.

"I'm very scared of him, Mum..." You said again as you watched one of the maids place a golden hairpin set with a black onyx into your hair, given to you by one of the Seven Great Generals of Seonghwa, Choi San.

The dark-eyed demon had given it to you personally this morning, and looking at the man's otherworldly beauty, you couldn't help but think of the rumors that the generals were bound to Seonghwa not only by the battlefield and the hot blood that ran down their arms like scarlet rivers, but also by the silk sheets of the emperor's bed. And perhaps the devilish gleam in San's eyes as his plump, soft lips pressed sensuously against your wrist in a sign of respect meant that you would be able to confirm or deny the rumor in no time at all.

Right now, all you wanted was for your mother to make everything better for you, to spare you from the fears and terrible thoughts that swirled around in your head like a swirl of falling sakura petals, the color of which reminded you of Seonghwa's hair. You were a grown girl, hours away from becoming Empress, but there was a small part of you that longed to be safe and comforted by your mother. You wished with all your heart that she would be able to make Emperor Seonghwa change his mind and choose one of your sisters instead of you.

But it was impossible to do that. No one in this world had the right to go against the wishes of the great Emperor 'Lunar Dragon' Park Seonghwa. He chose you without even bothering to explain why, simply pointing his finger at you as you spent time with your sisters in the Imperial Garden during one of your family's visits to the palace.

"She will be my Empress. She will be mine." Seonghwa said, and you saw the eyes of your mother glisten with tears that had not been shed.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." Your mother whispered to you. "But perhaps the Emperor will be a good husband. If he wants to have strong and healthy heirs, he'll have to treat you well."

Your mother tried so hard to be brave for you, and you were forever grateful to her for that. In your family, it was always believed that a man had to treat his wife well if he wanted her to bear him a large number of children. And your father really did idolize her, judging by the fact that your mother gave birth to nine children. You could only hope that Emperor Park would follow this wisdom, but you really had doubts that Seonghwa would make any effort to honor and follow your family's traditions. He probably didn't care about anything except increasing his power and satisfying his animal sexual desires.

Seonghwa was a true dragon, not only by blood but by nature. A predatory beast dressed in silk robes and glittering jewels.

"I will do my best to please him." You murmured, and you immediately heard the soft chuckle of a maid tucking a veil into your hair. You cast an angry glance at the slender girl, and her cheeks flushed in an instant. But you could understand the reason for her laughter. What pleasure could a virgin give an experienced and lecherous emperor, whose luxurious bed was warmed by the most beautiful and seductive girls and boys in the empire?

It was a bit of a delusion on your part to wish for that. Most likely, Songhwa would see you as just another beautiful thing in his collection, spending the rest of your life bearing children and sitting on a velvet cushion. Once the wedding ceremony was over, you would be nothing more than his next great conquest.

"Give me your hand, My Lady." Another of the maids spoke to you politely, and you reluctantly held out your cold palm to her. The girl carefully placed a heavy gold bracelet on your wrist, engraved with a dragon with rubies glinting ominously in its eyes; it was more like a shackle, another gift from the General, this time given to you by the magnificent Kim Hongjoong.

As you knew, Hongjoong was not only one of the seven generals and Seonghwa's confidant, but also his close childhood friend, with whom he grew up and shared everything in his life. Hongjoong was also the one who visited you more often than the other generals. He had a devilish gaze and a sly curve of blood-red lips, and he instilled in you the same animal terror as Seonghwa himself. You thought that everything he touched or said had an ulterior motive, and frankly, you didn't really want to know the true meaning of his actions, but the smile he gave you last night when he handed you the bracelet left you no choice. Sooner or later, you will find out, but by then, it will be too late to try to escape the Golden Emperor's cage. Your life, like your body, will belong to Seonghwa from now on.

You swallowed hard as the maids began to remove the robe from your shoulders. It exposed your sun-untouched skin.

"My Lady, it is time..."

You could hear your mother sobbing softly as the bloody silk flowed down your body. She seemed to be holding back the tears from all of them for your sake. Your heart was beating faster, and your fingers were starting to tremble. You were only a few hours away from your inevitable destiny and several miles of ceremonial procession, at the end of which would be the Great Lunar Dragon, Seonghwa Park.

The anxiety of it all almost made your stomach hurt.

The wedding ceremony was grand; your golden palanquin was carried solemnly down a street strewn with flowers and silk ribbons to the cheers of the crowd welcoming their new Empress. The flash of his cherry blossom hair and the firm, possessive palm of his hand that took yours before leading you up the great staircase 'to heaven' are all you can remember of Seonghwa. It was all a blur to you—the rich scent of incense and flowers making your head spin and a nervous knot tightening in the pit of your stomach. Your hands were cold in the Emperor's hot palms as you made your marriage vows. Your lips trembled as you swore to be his precious wife and to carry the burden of a great empire on your shoulders as his Empress. Tears welled up in your eyes.

Songhwa's soft, velvety voice whispered in your ear, "You belong to me.".

Nothing in the universe could have prepared you for his kiss - fiery, passionate, and hungry, it seemed as if Songhwa wanted to drink your soul through that kiss, to consume you whole, to turn your will and your desires to ashes. You heard the rapturous cheers of the seven generals and other cronies of the ruling Park dynasty. The Emperor's graceful palm encircled your neck from behind and pulled you closer to him. Your knees buckled, and you could barely breathe as Songhwa's long, hot tongue took possession of your mouth, wrapping around your own tongue and sliding across your palate and the inside of your cheeks. His thumb pressed lightly against the pulsing vein in your neck, your pulse racing beneath his soft fingertip as his teeth dug into your plump lower lip, almost biting to the blood.

You wanted to scream in pain, but there were too many people around—too many angry tongues dripping venom—just waiting to start gossiping about you. So instead, you tried to distract yourself from the pain and focus on something else.

But instead, your eyes were captured by the seductive gaze of the siren belonging to none other than General Jung Wooyoung. His full, sensuous lips parted as if he were enjoying the kiss itself, the sharp tip of his tongue sliding across the soft, red flesh of his lower lip, leaving him glistening and moist. You had the feeling that his dark, almost black eyes were gliding over your body. His gaze was shamelessly undressing you, while his friend, his Emperor, was devouring your mouth with a hungry, passionate kiss. You looked away in shame and embarrassment.

When Seonghwa finally let go of you and allowed you to take a long-awaited deep breath, you felt like you were going to faint. Just a small glimpse of what awaited you on your wedding night sent shivers of fear down your spine.

"You belong to me. Forever." Seonghwa whispers again, and you have a full understanding of the meaning of his words. Yes, you really do belong to him right now.

When it's time for you to leave the ceremony and prepare for your first wedding night, you almost start to gasp. You catch San's dark, demonic gaze as he leans over to whisper something into General Kim's ear. His words cause Hongjoong's blood-red lips to curl into an evil, almost devilish grin. Even through the many layers of heavy silk, you can feel the flames of his gaze burning through your skin.

"Your Majesty..." You turn your head to the side, only to find yourself facing the goddess Aphrodite herself, in the form of a man. General Kang Yeosang has always held a special place in your heart. Gentle and elegant like an exotic flower, his speech always soft and soothing, and his deep, velvety voice like the call of a chamois. Seonghwa's hair may have been the color of delicate sakura petals, and his eyes may have been brighter than all the stars in the endless midnight sky, but that was just a facade to hide the lustful and cruel devil that lurked inside. Yeosang, on the other hand, in spite of his wicked beauty, was the very embodiment of an angel. You will have heard the servants of the palace call him the Black Swan of the Empire.

Yeosan's soft and gentle nature might have reassured you and even given you some semblance of comfort before Seonghwa ravaged your body and took what was now his—your virginity. But the sensual curve of his plump lips and the hungry glint in the dark eyes of the siren, General Jung Wooyoung, who now extended his palm to you in an inviting gesture, sent an icy shiver down your spine. You rarely saw Wooyoung, and when you did, there was always a decent distance or several other people between you, so you had never felt his presence as close as you did now, and you had never been so fascinated by the sharpness of his face or the small mole under his eye, and this feeling frightened you as much as it frightened Seonghwa and Hongjoong.

"Your Majesty, it's time for you to go." As he turned to you, Wooyoung's voice was sultry and hoarse. It made you feel as if the flames themselves were licking at your body or at the lips of your lover in the heat of a forbidden caress.

"I...my maids should see me out. General Jung, thank you." You bite your lip nervously and look around, hoping to find your maids and avoid the two generals' eyes on you, but instead you see Seonghwa watching you intently, his head tilted slightly to the side, a few soft pink strands falling onto his gorgeous face. If he could only have a breath, it would be majestic. Seonghwa was indeed the true embodiment of the divine Lunar Dragon.

"His Majesty, the Emperor Seonghwa, has ordered us to escort you to his chambers in person." It was Yeosang's voice this time. Something about the way he said your husband's name aroused you, and not in the most pleasant way.

"I... I'm not quite sure, General Kang." You have an almost pathetic look on your face, an attempt to delay the inevitable, and to be honest, you had no desire to be in the company of any of the seven illustrious generals right now.

Wooyoung just grinned mischievously at your words, obviously finding you very amusing. As he leaned closer, his lips almost touched your earlobe, and you could smell the scent of sandalwood emanating from his caramel skin.

"Don't make him wait, dear. Seonghwa is an impatient and passionate lover; the longer you resist him, the harder he will be with you, and we don't want a jewel like you to be injured, do we?"

"Stop it, Wooyoung; you're scaring her." Yeosang hisses, but does nothing to contradict the words of General Jung.

You swallow noisily and silently place your cold, clammy palm in Wooyoung's hand, letting him and Yeosang escort you to the Emperor's quarters. The last thing you notice as you leave the Ceremonial Hall, where the noisy festivities of the Imperial Wedding will continue until dawn, is the sensual curve of Seonghwa's luscious, plump lips as he smiles at you and the glimmer of ominous rubies in the eyes of the golden dragon on the very same bracelet you wear on your arm, jingling on Hongjoong's slender wrist as he lazily waves goodbye to you.

"You don't have to worry that hard, Y/N." Wooyoung says as he pulls the heavy silk of your wedding gown off your shoulders, and you might have resented the familiarity with which he addressed you if you hadn't felt the glide of his fingertips over your bare skin. The whole situation was confusing, to say the least. Completely beyond any conscious explanation, two great generals of the Empire are now acting as your personal maids, helping you change your dress, removing your jewelry, and unraveling the intricacies of your wedding hairstyle.

Letting them treat you like a doll, undressing you layer by layer, and exposing more and more of your body to their dark gaze, you didn't know how to react or what to say. Wooyoung's breath was hot on the back of your neck, while Yeosang's cold fingers brushed over your collarbones as he removed the massive gold necklace. They continued their actions until you were left in the thin white dress that was the base of your outfit, and the only jewelry you wore was a black onyx stud given to you by San and, as it turned out, a paired bracelet from Hongjoong.

"Everything will be alright, Your Majesty." Yeosang gently ran his thumb over your wrist, the feel of your pulse racing under his touch. He liked the fact that he was making you nervous; your reaction brought a smile to his beautiful lips. Wooyoung's arms wrapped around your waist for a second, and his firm, hot chest pressed tightly against your back. You could swear you could feel his heart beating through your skin at that moment; he was so close to you.

"We will leave you now, my... Empress." It was almost as if he whispered the last word into your skin. "Enjoy your night." His touch was gone as suddenly as it had appeared, and you could feel the cold air of the room now caressing you as General Jung's hot body moved away from you.

"Try to relax and let Seonghwa take care of you; I promise nothing terrible will happen to you." Yeosang leaned down and planted a chaste kiss on your cheek before following Wooyoung out of the room, leaving you all alone—completely confused, frightened, and not knowing what to expect from Seonghwa if his generals could afford to treat you like this.

"Lunar Dragon" - the great Emperor Park Seonghwa is standing in front of you. His luxurious long hair, the colour of sakura petals, was still partially gathered on his head by long crystal hairpins. Teardrop-shaped crystals were dangling from them. He had replaced his heavy ceremonial robes with a light mantle of the most beautiful snow-white silk you've ever seen - dragons embroidered in silver and turquoise danced on the fabric like in the clouds. You can see his naked, chiseled torso, his muscular chest rising and falling to the rhythm of his measured breathing. Seonghwa's appearance is completely relaxed, but everything about him is a scream of the majesty and power he has over this world. He notices the way your eyes slide down his body, his lips curling into a satisfied, smug grin. You blush and lower your eyes to the floor.

Your heart is beating at breakneck speed against your ribs, and you have the feeling that Seonghwa can easily hear the sound. Your mother told you that you might feel aroused when you were alone with the Emperor, that you would want to touch his body, taste his lips, feel his hot hands on you, and maybe even feel his mouth on your private parts, but you... you didn't want to. You didn't feel aroused at all. You were afraid of Seonghwa, and after what Wooyoung had said to you in the ceremonial hall today, you were even more afraid of him, and no amount of assurances from Yeosang that everything would be all right could change your mind. You were afraid to even look him in the eye, and you clutched the fabric of your dress nervously in your hands, trying to calm yourself.

"My Emperor, are you going to hurt me today?" You were so stupid, good Lord, you couldn't think of anything else to say? Apart from the wedding vows, these were the first words you'd ever spoken to him directly, and you couldn't think of anything else to say: "Will you hurt me?" For some strange reason, you expected that after the wedding you would magically feel like a different person, that after saying your vows, your animal fear of Seonghwa would disappear. It didn't happen at all. You continued to feel frightened and ignorant, and completely at the mercy of the Emperor.

You could feel the weight of his heavy, hypnotic gaze on your skin as he silently scanned your body through the thin, transparent dress that you wore. He was looking at you shamelessly and greedily, and it only served to increase your fear. Seonghwa's long fingers cupped your chin and lifted your face. The soft pad of his thumb is pressed against your lower lip. You hesitantly met his gaze, your eyes instantly held hostage by the magnetic, bottomless eyes of the Emperor. Sharp and soft, demonic and angelic, sparkling like eternal stars and impenetrable like the thickest darkness, you had never met anyone with such eyes. His almost black irises flickered like flames, as if they were absorbing the glow of the candlelight.

"Is that the way you are supposed to address your husband, hmm? Call me by my name." Seonghwa's command to you. The sound of his voice was like liquid silk. Seonghwa grabbed your chin with his graceful hand and tilted your head even higher. You had to strain your neck to hold his gaze with your eyes.

"M-my Emperor..." Your voice trembles, and in spite of the clear command, you say something completely different from what Seonghwa wants you to say.

His finger presses harder against your lip, the sharp nail digging into the soft flesh in a painful way, and your mouth opens automatically.

"I want to hear you say my name, my love. And you need to obey without questioning, darling. You don't want to upset me. Do you?" Seonghwa's tone of voice is still soft and velvety, but you can hear the small hint of a hidden threat in his words. And it is scaring the hell out of you right now. To be honest, you don't want to say his name at all. There's something about it that feels like an irreversible end, like if you say it out loud, you're going to lose any semblance of controlling your life. But there can be no disobedience, especially not now.

"Seonghwa." It's easier than you thought, but for some reason, his name still leaves a bitter taste on the tip of your tongue.

He turns away from you, instead walking over to the luxurious bed and lowering himself smoothly onto it. The flaps of his robe swing further open, and the wide silk collar slides off his shoulders as he sits down on the soft feather bed. You can't help but admire the Emperor for a moment as strands of pink hair fall across his handsome face.

His eyes narrowed predatorily for a second. His gorgeous, god-like face takes on a sharp, animal beauty, but it's only for a moment before his expression becomes majestically relaxed again.

"There you are, good girl." His praise is as condescending as if he were addressing one of the many maids in the palace instead of his Empress. Without taking his eyes off you, Seonghwa pushes his thumb fully into your mouth, pressing it against your tongue's soft, slippery surface. Your eyes widen at the action. "Lick it." He gives the order again, and you weakly run your tongue along the pad of his finger, leaving a thick trail of saliva on it. Then he pulls the finger out of your mouth, takes a step back, and, looking you in the eye, pushes the wet finger into his mouth. His plump lips close in an erotic way around the long appendage as he sucks weakly on it. Heat floods your whole face at this seemingly innocent act, but when Seonghwa does it, it looks so damn lewd and lascivious.

"Strip for me." Seonghwa's voice commands you.

The cold air of his chambers was now licking at your skin, causing your sensitive nipples to tense and swell in response. Embarrassed, you covered yourself with your arms and crossed your legs slightly to hide your pussy from the dark, burning gaze of the Emperor. At that moment, Seonghwa reminded you of a huge, contented cat that had gotten the cream. He leaned back slightly on his hands on the bed, arching his back and tilting his head to the side, making the muscles in his long, thin neck tense. Seductive wasn't a strong enough word to describe the way the Emperor looked right now. Depraved? Vicious? Devilish? Maybe it was all of those things at the same time.

Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment. His command was clear and precise, and the fear of being completely vulnerable in front of him made your heart beat even faster. Your fingers trembled as you reached for the wide waistband of your dress. It had all happened so very quickly. Your mind had barely had time for a moment's reflection. You knew that it was best to obey him and not question what he wanted. Carefully, you unbuckled the belt, and the dress slid gently down your body before it spilled out in a puddle of silk on the floor at your feet.

"I-I... do you like it?" You asked him. Your voice was barely above a whisper. God, it was so embarrassing. Would this happen every time you shared a bed with him? You lowered your eyes to the floor, unable to bear to look at his hungry, lustful gaze.

"Ain't you a pretty little jewel, huh? It was so sweet of you to ask me that. Now take your hands away, so that I can see the whole of your pretty body."

His words caused you to let out a soft squeak, as you were completely shocked. It was humiliating, to say the least. It was one thing to be lying naked under someone else, but it was a lot more vulnerable to find yourself completely naked in the middle of the room. But there was no way you could forbid the Emperor to look at your body the way he wanted to. The words he had spoken earlier were still running through your mind: "You belong to me." So you obeyed him once more, even though everything in your heart was telling you not to.

"What's a gem? Are you so embarrassed already?" Seonghwa laughed grimly as he looked at your naked body; his eyes lingered on your pussy as he sensually ran the tip of his long tongue over his plump, sensual lips. "Come closer to me, darling."

God, it seemed like it couldn't get any worse, but obviously the Emperor had thought a lot about how to make you squirm without even touching you. You took a couple of steps forward until you were standing between his legs as they spread apart.

"Now turn around for me." His voice dropped a couple of octaves, the velvety tone getting darker and more husky. Your face turned even more red, and your lips began to quiver. You slowly turned away from him so that he had a good view of your bottom. You could feel his predatory eyes on the small of your back and his greedy gaze on your crotch. You almost screamed as you felt his hands on your hips, pulling you down with all their might until you were sitting on the bed between his legs. Seonghwa pressed his body against your back, and it reminded you of Wooyoung, but that thought disappeared as quickly as it had appeared when his hands cupped your breasts and his full lips were pressed against your ear. "You're supposed to please me, you know." He said. His hot breath flowed over the soft skin of your ear with each letter of the word he spoke. It sent a shiver down the length of your body. "Remember this." He squeezed your breasts roughly, causing you to give a soft whimper.

"Yes, Your Majesty…" You breathed out.

Your breasts were terribly sensitive under his rough and skilled hands, and you were so overwhelmed by the sensation that you collapsed completely into his arms. You had no idea how pleasurable it could be; you'd never played with your boobs before. As Seonghwa's long fingers brushed lightly over your swollen nipples, a soft moan of pleasure escaped your open lips.

"You're so sensitive, my little jewel, and that's what I love about virgins; you're all so sweet and shy, you blush and whimper at the slightest touch. But do you know what it is that I love the most?" Seonghwa asked you as he gently twisted your nipples with his long, thin fingers, making you moan and shake your head in a negative way. "Most of all, I love to see the look on their pretty faces when I stretch their tight little cunts with my big, thick cock. I love the sound of them moaning my name as they cum on my tongue." God, that was just too much.

The combination of the Emperor's deep, hypnotic voice and how dirty and disgusting his words were almost made you whimper pitifully. His hands continued to play expertly with your heavy, plump tits, massaging and squeezing the flesh as his fingers tweaked and pulled at the hard, sensitive nipples. The tender skin of your breasts reddened under his firm grip. Unconsciously, you rested your head on his shoulder, becoming more and more lost in the sensation of his touch on your body.

"But you are my shining star; you are special to me, unlike those whores who live only with the thought of being filled with Imperial sperm. They will never be able to stand in your shoes, and none of them will ever be the mother of my heir. None of them will ever be my Empress." One of his hands slid down your belly until his hot palm cupped your pussy in a possessive way. His long middle finger pressed between your labia to feel the moisture that had accumulated there. Your breath caught in your throat as Seonghwa pulled roughly on your nipple, his palm pressing even harder against your cunt. "I'm going to fuck that virgin pussy until your belly swells up with my heir." His lips brushed against your ear again, and he whispered in a sultry voice. "And maybe it won't just be mine, if you know what I mean."

Seonghwa began to kiss your neck, leaving scorching, open-mouthed kisses on your skin. His lips were plush and moist as they glided over the sensitive veins and nerves, which flowed in bluish, translucent rivers beneath the pallor of your skin. You moaned and unconsciously pressed your pussy harder against his hand as Seonghwa's teeth bit into a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. The Emperor ran the tips of his fingers along the silken folds of your cunt, the moisture clinging to his fingers.

"I-I...oh..." Endless moans echoed through the room as Seonghwa's finger pads pressed against your sensitive clit. The light pressure on the swollen bundle of nerves sent waves of pleasure through your body.

"Can you feel it, my star? Do you have a sense of how swollen and wet your pussy is?" The Emperor's words caused another moan to escape your lips; your mind was hazy and distant, and Seonghwa's voice was luring you deeper and deeper into the trap of lust and pleasure. "I can feel your desire, my jewel; your little cunt wants to be filled with cock so desperately." He said. Lost in the sounds and sensations of your own body, your hips twitched as his fingers began to circle your clit. Your breathing came and went, each exhale punctuated by a soft moan of pleasure. "Your virgin pussy is throbbing under my touch, my little star. I want to see you sink into ecstasy; I want to see that shy, innocent facade shatter as you cum and wriggle under my touch." Seonghwa removed his hand from your breast, then wrapped his fingers around your chin, turning your head sideways so your lips met his. "Under my tongue." He whispered before you had the taste of his kiss for the second time that night. You were so mesmerized by the feel of the Emperor's soft, luscious lips on yours that you didn't notice him pressing his hips against you.

You were whimpering into his mouth as you felt the hard, hot length of his cock pressing down hard against your arse. Your eyes widened in fear, and your mouth opened to allow Seonghwa's tongue to enter your mouth and wrap around your tongue in a sensual way.

Seonghwa's kiss to you at the wedding ceremony was nothing in comparison to the kiss he was giving you now. The impossible, hot-tight, sinful, shameful, pleasure-filled kiss that made you gasp and whimper against his lips. A low, guttural moan escaped from his lips, becoming almost animalistic in nature as his fingers slid deeper and deeper between your folds. Seonghwa growls and pulls his lips away from yours, swollen and tortured after his caresses them. You moan loudly as his fingers circle around your clit, your juices making it slick and slippery, and that just adding the stimulation. Mindlessly, you buck your hips against his touch, and he lets you do it, enjoying how desperate you are already looking. The Emperor was right. Virgins are always so easy, too pliable, and eager to be touched. And you, his precious little Empress, are no exception.

His eyes were the trap of vice, the bottomless pit of lust and wickedness, but you couldn't look away from them. They were lustrous and almost black, like the onyx in the jewelled hairpin San had given you. They seemed to penetrate your very soul, making you shiver. A seductive grin played across his devilishly handsome face as his fingers continued to play with your pussy, making it more and more wet and in need of attention. You gasped for breath as you felt your little hole squeeze on nothing, and a thick, gooey drop of slime poured out of you.

"Ahm-aah...Your Majesty...ahhhh...Seonghwa." You were at a loss for words and had no formula. Pleasure curled up at the core of your being, and you rolled your eyes in delight.

"Yes, that's right, my star. Does it feel good? Do you like it when my fingers play with your little virgin pussy, when you feel them on your throbbing, swollen clit?" He asked. The silk of his voice was a breath that was a tickle to your ear.

"Your Majesty... It's... It's so embarrassing."

His eyes flashed with pleasure, and the grip he had on your face was like a vice grip. You felt his hips jerk forward, and he pressed his cock harder against the soft flesh of your ass. His excitement was obvious. Suddenly, his fingers stopped teasing the folds of your cunt. Seonghwa brought them to his mouth instead. His eyes sparkled like jewels, seductive and dangerous, as his long tongue darted out of his mouth to lick the viscous fluid that ran down the long appendages.

"You're sweet—maybe too sweet for your own good." Seonghwa wraps his arms around your neck and pulls you closer to his beautiful face, so that his lips make contact with yours once more. "And there's something you should know about me, my star: I have a horrible sweet tooth." Instantly, he releases you from his grip and changes position so that you're on your back, spread out on the beautiful sheets, his lithe body hovering over you. His hair is completely disheveled, long strands of pink falling haphazardly across his face, and you can see a faint blush on his cheeks and his luscious lips, swollen from kissing and taking on a darker shade. God, he looks like a true deity, and you can see why they call him the 'Lunar Dragon'; mere mortals can never be so majestic and seductive; they are not given that magnetic pull that draws everyone to this dangerous creature like a moth to a flame.

Seonghwa slides down your body until his hands are cupped around your thighs, pulling them apart so that your juicy, wet cunt is exposed to his hungry gaze. He runs his fingers gently down your thick, soft thighs, squeezing your flesh together for a moment, the sharp tips of his nails digging painfully into your thighs, and you make a squeal at the rough caress. It was a terrible shame to lie there, completely naked, with your legs spread wide open, while Seonghwa towered over you, still fascinating and powerful, even if he did look a little disheveled. And what was even more humiliating was that you were already so wet for him—your juices were constantly flowing from your hole and dripping between your cheeks onto the silk of the sheets—but you didn't have time to think about that when Seonghwa pressed down on your clit without warning, making you gasp loudly. You almost screamed, your legs twitching in a feeble attempt to squeeze together as he skillfully circled the sensitive bundle of nerves, his fingernail lightly scraping the tender skin.

"You have such a sweet little cunt, my star," Seonghwa whispered as he pushed your swollen labia apart to expose the soft pink inside. He bent his face over your pussy and let his hot breath flow over the sensitive flesh, causing even more fluid to spill out of your hole. "I will only say this once, my precious. You will be a good girl and take everything I give you. I will eat that sweet virgin cunt for as long as I want. If you dare to refuse, I will fuck you without any stretches at all, and believe me, unlike you, I am going to get a lot of pleasure when my cock rips that tight cunt in half. Do you understand me?"

"I-I, yes, I understand, Your Majesty."

The first licks from Seonghwa's tongue on your juicy pussy made you arch your back and roll your eyes. The sensation was too overwhelming for your words. As soon as the Emperor had tasted you on his lips, he began to eat you with a hungry ferocity. Seonghwa plunged his tongue into your tight, wet hole, almost biting your tender, quivering folds, his teeth clawing at your swollen, sensitive clit, making you writhe and squirm as his hands gripped your thighs tighter.

Seonghwa lived for the pussy, and he'd tasted a lot of it over the years, but your sweet virgin cunt tasted the best of all. His little Empress had the most amazing cunt of them all—a pussy that was worthy of an emperor.

"I can't wait to get my tongue inside you, my star. Do you like it, my Empress? Tell me. Do you like my tongue in your slutty virgin pussy?"

"Uh, huh... I... I... it feels so good... your Majesty..." You moaned.

Your viscous slime and his own saliva now coated Seonghwa's chin as his mouth pressed greedily against you, licking and lapping up all the juices flowing from you as if they were divine nectar. Your tight hole was twitching under the caress of his tongue, begging for filling. And who was he to refuse to give it to you?

Seonghwa slid his finger into the throbbing warmth of your vagina, feeling the slight resistance of the muscles as the long appendage stretched your virgin entrance. He did it slowly, but you moaned in spite of himself as his finger filled you. His lips circled around your clit, slowly sucking at the sensitive cluster of nerves, and Seonghwa felt the warm, silky walls of your pussy tighten around his finger.

"Y-Your Majesty... that's a lot... I" You found it hard to speak; hot excitement was flowing beneath your skin, making you helpless and pliable for him, but a sharp slap on your thigh made you cry out loudly. The mark of his hand bloomed like a rose on the milky surface of your skin.

You continued to whimper as you responded to the rough and vulgar words the Emperor spoke to you. Not daring to take his eyes off the way your hole was absorbing them, Seonghwa added another finger. Your walls clenched around his fingers, trying to hold them in, even though the burning sensation of stretching made it difficult. To make it easier for Seonghwa to move his fingers in and out of your pussy, you tried to relax as much as possible. A lump of saliva landed on the top of your pussy and spread over your delicate folds.

"My Name. I need you to moan out my name and nothing else, my star. I want to hear you say it out loud as I destroy you with my fingers and my tongue. Your hungry cunt swallows my fingers so well, my little

Empress."

"Look at you, my star; you're so wet for me; you literally drip into my mouth. You are not so clean and pure any more, are you? Who would have thought that a beautiful lady would like to have her cunt licked?" The squelching of your wetness and Seonghwa's saliva as he slid two fingers in and out of your tight hole was loud and disgusting. Seonghwa was mesmerized by the way your pussy clung to his fingers, his tongue circling the edges of your vagina, slipping inside slightly each time his fingers came out of you.

You arch your back and feel a strange, crushing tension build up in your lower abdomen, and you clench the silk sheets in your fists. It's frightening, but somehow you have a desire for it to consume you completely.

"Seonghwa, I... Oh God... I, I don't know, this feeling inside me..." Your breathing is ragged, with each word coming out of your mouth with difficulty. The Emperor lifts his hypnotic gaze up to you, his mouth still pressed against your pussy. His eyes are so dark and hypnotic—glimmering black stars in the lacy frame of his eyelashes—and you swear you see a flash of golden glow in them before it fades, leaving only lust and insatiable hunger.

"My little Empress, you are about to cum for the first time, are you? Jewel, you must wait until I say so." Seonghwa growled as he squeezed the soft flesh of your thigh harder and harder, and you could already see the purple and black bruises that were beginning to form on your skin. "Your slutty cunt won't be able to come until I tell you to." You whimper pitifully at the command of authority in his velvety voice, your pussy clutching onto his two fingers.

But Seonghwa doesn't seem to have had enough and decides to stretch you even further, trying to push a third finger inside you, causing you to squeal and jerk your hips in an attempt to avoid the stinging sensation inside you, but it has the exact opposite effect. Your abrupt movement forces his fingers deeper into you, hitting a particularly sensitive spot inside, and you gasp at the sharp sensation of delight that rips through you like a bolt of lightning. You are so lost in pleasure that you don't even notice the tip of his third finger as it enters you.

Seonghwa is sucking on your clit in an almost lazy way, stretching and stimulating you at the same time.

"S-Songhwa!" You almost start to cry, your eyes filling with tears from the mixture of feelings and emotions. This is too good to pass up, but at the same time, too much for you to bear. "Please, Seonghwa, Your Majesty."

"Hmm, are you beggin' me already, my star? My little Еmpress, if you can't take my fingers, then you'll never be able to take my cock, and that is literally your only responsibility in life. To lie here in my bed and to fuck me like this. Your husband and your Еmperor. Seonghwa replies, licking the broad stripes between your trembling soft folds and pulling her fingers out of you to suck on your clenching, flowing hole.

"I'm sorry... I'm t-trying to be a decent wife to you... I'm so sorry." You stutter.

The Emperor slid three fingers back into your pussy, stroking your velvety walls and pressing the pads of his fingers against your G-spot as he did so.

"You're so sweet, begging and crying like a pretty little girl, but you're not a girl anymore. You're my wife, my Empress, so be damned obedient to me and take everything I give you without objection." When he had finished speaking, his lips were around your exhausted clit again.

"Oh, please, Seonghwa! P-please, I need...I want...please let me come...I promise I'll be so good to you." Tears streamed down your face as your whole body began to shake a little, and you lifted your hips to press even harder against Seonghwa.

Seonghwa seems to have decided to spare you this time, enjoying how desperate and needy you look—all that crying and whining, and he hasn't even fucked you properly. But it's not over yet.

"If you want it so badly, darling, you can cum." As soon as those words fall from his flushed, swollen lips, it feels as if your whole body is completely attuned to his every command or desire, and you arch up almost immediately, rolling your eyes and experiencing your first real orgasm on Seonghwa's long, slender fingers. Seonghwa lets out a deep, low moan as he watches you writhe in pleasure as he continues to finger-fuck you until you begin to whimper and beg him to stop.

"I'm not done with you yet, my star." Seonghwa whispers in a grim voice as he pushes his fingers into your wet and sensitive pussy. You're almost incoherent at this point, shaking with excitement as he pulls his fingers out of you and crawls up your body to pull you into a hot, dirty kiss. His lips, chin, and cheeks are wet and sticky with your juices, but he doesn't care; he doesn't bother wiping, preferring to fuck your mouth with his tongue.

As Seonghwa pulled away from your lips and allowed you to take a full breath, the look on his face took on that predatory animal look that you'd seen on him before tonight, and it was crystal clear to you what was going to happen next. Fear and excitement at the prospect of finally losing your virginity mix together in your heart. You weren't sure if the feeling was one of relief or horror, but your body was already on edge with anticipation. You could feel your stomach twist with desire and excitement, and you were absolutely shocked that your body reacted in this way even after an orgasm.

"And now, my little Empress, I would like to show you what it means to be the wife of the Emperor. His beautiful cock sleeve." Seonghwa gets down from you, but only to take off his silk robe and to pull his trousers down over his long legs until he is completely naked. His hair is now completely loose, long strands the color of sakura petals falling freely over his shoulders and chest. You would want to admire how beautiful his face looks framed by his pink silk hair if your eyes weren't focused on his cock pressed against his flat, embossed belly. Like everything about His Majesty Emperor Seonghwa, his cock was just as magnificent and attractive: the hard, thick length was slippery and glistening with pre-cum flowing from the dark pink head, the vein bulging with tension stood out on its velvety girth, and overall, his cock made you inexplicably want to run your tongue over it and taste its flavor. You swallowed loudly, turning your head to the side, a crimson blush of embarrassment mixing with the lust that now filled your veins with something intoxicating and forbidden and spreading across your rounded cheeks.

Your mouth opened to say something, but you quickly shut it when you noticed that he had raised his perfect eyebrow in a slightly mocking expression. His movements were slow and elegant as he crawled across the bed towards you like some mythical beast. Long fingers wrapped around your ankle before he pulled you towards him until his body was between your spread legs. He towered over you—magnificent, almost divine—making you feel small and fragile. Strands of his long, sakura-colored hair fell around his slender body. His smooth skin shimmered like liquid gold in the soft, diffused light of the candle.

His graceful hand slid up the curve of your thigh, caressing your soft skin where the marks of his possessive touch had already blossomed, and higher and higher until it reached your full breasts. Seonghwa squeezed your breast before running his fingers around the swollen pink nipple. A pitiful moan escaped your lips as his luxurious, juicy lips connected with another hardened bud and sucked it roughly into his hungry, beautiful mouth. You meowed in response, the new kind of stimulation causing you to arch your back in pleasure and unconsciously push your breasts closer to him. He purred velvetily, flicking his tongue over your tender nipple until it was glistening and wet from his attention.

Without hesitating, the Emperor lifted his knee between your hips, forcing them to spread further apart, allowing him to slip between them. Your hands rose hesitantly and floated in the air for a second before you found them lying on Seonghwa's strong shoulders. His skin felt warm and soft under your fingers. Your body tensed, and a small cry escaped your parted lips as you felt Sonhwa's teeth bite into your chest, and soon a mark resembling a shining crescent moon formed where his teeth had been. Suddenly, the Emperor grabbed hold of your wrists and lifted your arms above your head, restricting your movements and locking you completely into the cage beneath his body.

"And now you would like to touch me, my little Empress?" Seonghwa grinned grimly. "First of all, I want to take what is rightfully mine, my star. Beg me for it." He let out a growl. Like a dark, forbidden caress, the low, vibrating sound of his voice went through your body. The heavy, velvety length of his cock pressed against the inner side of your thigh. You wanted to run away, to hide from that bottomless, hypnotic gaze of lust and hunger, but at the same time you wanted more of him, to feel everything you'd never felt before. The thought of how Seonghwa would enjoy you, how he would use you for his own pleasure, and how he would make you his own, subjecting you to his will and his power, made you long for that feeling. You desperately wanted to belong to him.

"Please, my Emperor, Seonghwa, take me. I belong to you." You barely managed to whisper the words, but the Emperor was able to hear them clearly. Embarrassed, you turned away from him, exposing your slender, delicate neck. His hot body merged with yours as his head sank into the curve of your neck. The swollen, wet head of his cock pressed against your trembling pussy. He was still holding your wrists tightly above your head, his sharp nails digging into your skin, but your hips were lifting to meet him as Seonghwa moved forward, weakly, and rubbed the head of his cock against your clit. A low, languid moan escaped from his throat as your soft labia parted a little, allowing his cock to slide into the warmth of your wet cunt.

"You are so impatient, darling. And that's another thing I like about virgins—once they've tasted pleasure, they stop controlling themselves and start asking for more. Look at you; you're so desperate for me to fuck you, little Empress. Can't you wait for my cock to be inside of you?" He looks so smug, his ego shining brightly in his dark eyes, and a lecherous smile has blossomed on his plump lips. Your natural essence thickly coats his thick cock, allowing it to slide easily through your warm folds, the head of his cock touching your sensitive clit with every move he makes. He is laughing at you, at the way your body is haunting him at every moment. Once again, the Emperor is proving you to be right—you really are hungry for more. You want to feel him all over you.

Seonghwa loves the way you look underneath him—your flushed face, wet from the tears you shed earlier from your orgasm, your skin covered with bruises and his bite marks, and of course, your wet little cunt begging to be filled to the brim with his cum. Maybe that's why he can't hold himself back any longer and slowly begins to push his cock into your oozing hole. You moaned loudly as his cock pushed deeper and deeper into you, and although you had been prepared for it, the way his thick girth stretched your silky walls made you squeeze your eyes shut and feel a slight burning sensation. Seonghwa's cock was too big and thick for you, at least for now, but somehow you didn't doubt that he was going to fuck you until you could easily take his whole length at once.

When his cock was all the way inside of you and his balls were pressed against your plush arse, he let out a guttural, almost growling, moan as he nuzzled his face into the back of your neck. Your cunt was everything he'd imagined—tight and hot and silky—divine. A small shiver of pleasure went through his body as he felt your walls tighten around his cock. Your answering moan was an unrestrained one, grateful for the hot, thick length of it as it displaced your emptiness, stained your chastity, took away your purity, and filled you instead with an insatiable need.

He hardly gave you time to adjust to the size of his cock before he began fucking you mercilessly. Obscene sounds filled the air with each of his hard and deep thrusts, mingled with your whimpering and long moans, as well as his enthusiastic purring of satisfaction as he tormented you. His warm breath filled your mouth, forming a subtle contrast to the uncompromising demand of his tongue as it penetrated your mouth and tasted you as you moaned and whimpered. Seonghwa feels that he has become a little bit dependent on you and that he will probably never be able to satisfy this hunger that he now has for you. Your slippery pussy tightened around him impatiently and greedily, hot and wet, squeezing him so hard that Seonghwa let out a low moan of pleasure.

Seonghwa lets go of your hands and wraps the palm of his hand around your thin neck instead, squeezing it lightly. His grip on your throat makes you gasp, and your moans are hoarse and soft.

"You are all mine." He growls, watching as his cock enters and exits your tight, pink cunt, a thick vein stretching along your silken walls with every movement of his beautiful and skilled hips. Seonghwa can't help but marvel at the way your juices are coating the velvety length of his cock as it plunges deep into you. Your hands dig into the sheets, crumpling the fabric between your fingers as you do so. "Who is your husband? Your Emperor? Tell me, my little star!" Seonghwa demands as she presses her fingers around your neck more tightly.

"Y-y-you!" You screamed, but the sound of your voice was so distorted that it was barely audible. Your thighs began to ache from Seonghwa's relentless thrusts, but you didn't know if you wanted to ask him to stop when his cock kept hitting the most pleasurable spot inside you, making you feel every cell in your body heat up until it was white. Stars started to dance in front of your eyes, exactly the same—mesmerizingly sparkling stars like the ones in Seonghwa's eyes. "Seonghwa, that's you! You are my husband, my Emperor!"

"That's right, you treat me so well, my little Empress. I am going to fuck you until you are swollen with my heirs and until your little pussy is dripping with my cum day and night. My beautiful star, don't you think that we should give the seven great generals a taste of your divine cunt, as well? Let them saturate you, let them breed you, and let them shower you with caresses and praise. They are magnificent lovers, my star—passionate, tireless, and demonic—and they crave you so much. And here's something else you should know about me, my little Empress: I share everything with them—the battlefield, power, life, bed, and of course, I will share you with them, my beautiful wife." Seonghwa stops what he is doing and looks down at your trembling, delicate body lying underneath him. You can feel how his demonic gaze is burning into you before he grabs hold of your waist and quickly forces you down on all fours, lifting your bottom up into the air. His hand slides along the curves of your inner thighs, running his fingers over the warmth of your cunt and oozing sticky nectar. Two slender, long fingers rub your quivering hole, and you clench involuntarily at the tantalizing sensation of his fingers.

"Say it once more." He orders you as he presses down on your clit and begins to rub it in rapid circles. You let out a shrill cry, your voice echoing through the luxurious imperial chambers.

"Seonghwa! I am yours. You are my Emperor. You are my magnificent husband."

The Emperor let out a purr in response to your words, which sound silky and almost sinful. He pressed himself against you once more, thrusting his cock inside of you. Your face was pressed against the pillow before a graceful hand pulled your hair and pressed you against his wet, hard chest. He never stopped his hips from moving. His pace was sure and persistent, his lack of mercy cruel to your tender, sensitive cunt that had never known such sensations before, but still you moaned with pleasure.

"You are going to cum on my cock, my beautiful star." His teeth graze across your ear before Seonghwa bites down on the lobe of your ear. All of a sudden, his fingers find your swollen clit and make slow half circles over it, stimulating you even more. Immediately, you feel yourself tightening around his thick cock; your mouth falls open, and your lower lip begins to quiver as you feel that sweet tension at the bottom of your belly. Your orgasm is like a starburst of sensations—the pleasure exploding beneath your skin, stinging you like sharp shards of broken stars—and you almost lose yourself in the sensation. You moan so loudly that you swear the servants outside the door can hear you loud and clear, but whether it's the servants or perhaps one of the seven handsome generals, you have no way of knowing.

Seonghwa lets go of your hair and grabs your waist instead, digging his nails into your flesh until it bleeds. The squishing sound your pussy makes every time his balls slap against the soft plush of your arse draws a deep animal growl from Seonghwa's throat, the great dragon inside him coming out. The warm, sticky liquid slowly seeps out between your thighs as you shiver and melts into Seonghwa's arms as he holds you upright, your head resting on his shoulder. But it doesn't last long. In a second, you're on your back again, facing the godlike Lunar Emperor.

He stares down at your emaciated face and at the glistening beads of sweat on your brow. His smug smile was devilish and vicious; he spread your legs again, watching the heat of your tiny, squelching cunt as it greedily swallowed his cock.

"Oh, your pussy is so beautiful, my star. A perfect little cunt to be filled with the emperor's cum, to be a breeding." Seonghwa's words are nothing more than the sweetest praise wrapped in pure sin.

Holding your breath, your body feeling boneless and tired, you nod recklessly at his words.

"You will cum again, my star. You're going to scream out my name so loud that everyone in this palace will know just how good a fuck I give you." He lifted one of your legs and pressed it up against the side of your chest. In this new position, you felt stiff and small under the Emperor's exquisitely elegant body, yet your pussy continued to greedily milk his cock. The vulgar, disgusting words that Seonghwa spoke to you in his deep, velvety voice made your head spin around. It made you feel so soft and sweet.

Seonghwa fucked you in a deep and rough way. You could still feel the remains of your orgasm boiling in your belly—so sensitive, almost painful. As the head of his cock kissed your cervix, your body tensed, and every muscle in your body tightened like a silk ribbon. Yet, as if it's his only purpose in life, Seonghwa continues to split your heart. You roll your eyes, your lips quiver, and your chest shakes with sobs. You look completely fucked up as you lie there, taking everything the Emperor gives you.

"Who do you belong to, little Empress?"

"I-I, yours, Seonghwa..." You let out a gasp as you felt the tingling sensation of a new orgasm flutter around your pussy. Your soft walls clenched hard, almost restricting Seonghwa's movements, contracting and pulsing around his thick cock.

"Louder!" He crashes his hips into you, your skin reddening where his thighs made contact with yours.

"S-Seonghwa, I belong to you, only to you... ah!"

You feel like you're drowning—falling rapidly and irreversibly into the depths of a bottomless ocean of pure pleasure as Seonghwa's fingers press against your swollen, torn clit. Your orgasm is all-consuming—your vision disappears for a second, your breath is trapped in your chest, and all you can hear is the raging roar of the blood in your veins. You scream—piercingly loud—but the sound barely reaches you. You're shaking, your whole body twisting and writhing from the wild intensity of your orgasm as Seonghwa continues fucking you relentlessly. Seonghwa's skilled fingers move over your clit, matching the rhythm of his hips, making your body shake around him as you go through blissful orgasm. Your juices rush between the two of you, spilling over and down the silk of the sheets.

"I can't... I can't take it anymore. Please, Seonghwa..." You cried out, the tears running freely down the sides of your face.

Seonghwa leaned forward and captured your lips in an incredible kiss, his hips pressing hard against you as he began to pour his cum as deep as he could, savoring how hard and greedily your pussy milked his cock, your silky walls trembling around him. After a few moments, he slips out of your exhausted pussy, lets go of your leg, and lies down next to you on the bed, his head dropping to your chest as he cuddles closer to you, listening to your heart pounding furiously beneath his cheek. The Emperor intertwines your fingers with his own in the most intimate and tender of gestures. Still in a daze, you lie motionless on the bed and allow him to do whatever he wants to you.

The Great Lunar Dragon is curled up beside you like a purring, cream-fed cat. He looks completely relaxed and peaceful. Your eyes wander aimlessly around the luxurious chambers, trying to collect your thoughts, but it's only for a moment before your eyes widen—frightened and in disbelief—as you meet the gaze of none other than the great, demonically beautiful General Choi San. Your soft scream attracts the attention of Seonghwa, and his eyes are lazily open to see what it is that has upset you so much.

"Ah, Sannie, you have frightened my star." Seonghwa reluctantly gets up from you and lightly covers your body with the sheet, but it does little to help the situation, as you can feel the general's sultry gaze burning into your skin. "You should have waited until the morning at the very least; you are too impatient, do you know that?"

"My precious Empress made a sound that was too tempting for me to resist, Hwa. I am nothing more than a male slave of my most beautiful mistress." San purred, got up, and crept towards the bed like a big cat of prey. He moves clean and elegantly, and you can't help but be enchanted by what you're seeing. But the spell is broken as soon as you feel the bed begin to sag under the weight of his body. In an attempt to shrink and hide your body from this breathtakingly handsome man, you pull your legs up. Seonghwa notices this and gently puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him and giving you a light kiss on the cheek.

"My star, you have no need to be afraid of San; he is as gentle as a kitten. You will have fun playing with him, I assure you." Seonghwa's voice was like melting honey on your skin, and you wished you could relax, but the whole situation was just wild; this is totally not how you expect a first wedding night to go. "But first we need to bathe, and then we can go and play again, my little Empress; the night is still so young." Seonghwa literally sings, letting you go and moving around the bed until she is next to San. You watch in silence as the emperor's plump, sensual lips touch the sharp cheekbone of the general for a moment before he rises from the bed and pulls a silk robe over his naked body. "I trust everything has been prepared." It is clear that the question is not directed at you.

"Of course it has; Wooyoung and Yeosang have taken care of it." San extends his hand to you. It is the same inviting gesture that General Jung used before leading you to Seonghwa's chambers. "Come with me, my precious Empress. Your servants are waiting to please their mistress."

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 2 months

Text

Her Emperor, His Destiny

(Alpha!Paul Atreides x Omega!BeneGesserit!Reader)

Summary: Ever since Paul presented no omega has smelled remotely appealing to him. His only reprieve is his dreams that have been filled with nothing but an angelic voice calling out to him, the silhouette of a woman he can’t quite make out, and the sweetest saccharine smell. Wk: 3.2k

Warnings: General omegaverse behaviors, knotting, scenting, marking, breeding, Paul and reader are a soul bound pair, inappropriate use of the voice(by both Paul & Reader) , fluff, kinda love making? Idk this is much softer than my usual smut. I think that’s it, lmk if I missed any!! 18+MNDI!!

A/N: Listen… I know this is left field for me but I made a promise to myself that I would start writing for ME again, and that means writing whatever I want. I saw Dune 2 and I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Paul is so alpha coded I feel like it was dropped in my lap.

Paul expected the air to be different, smell different, out in the desert planes of Arkkis. Thus far it’s as he expected. The smell of spice and sand permeate the air to the point that it’s over powering, flooding every single one of your senses. The sand lingers on any inch of exposed skin practically borrowing its way underneath. The smell of spice is so strong that it feels like it’s drowning you, invading your lungs and nostrils, coating them, leaving your insides feeling like sandpaper if you dare breathe it in.

But as he follows Stilgar into the sietch he can’t even be bothered with the glares and sideways glances from the Freman because the further they walk the more his senses are hit with an overwhelmingly saccharine smell. It was like someone was baking the finest pastry mixed with a warm milk bath on a cold winter's day. He had only ever smelled something as sweet as this in his dreams. A scent he’s dreamed of so vividly that it lingered in his nostrils when he woke, but he’s never caught a whiff of it in waking hours until now. There was no doubt in his mind that this is the same scent. The scent that’s haunted him every night since he presented. The scent of his omega, his destined mate.

“I can hear and smell you scenting back there, Paul Atreides… I suggest you get your pheromones under control before we enter.” Stilgar looks back at him with an apprehensive look and Paul apologizes nodding in agreement. “Mating is a very sacred thing to my people. Each pair must be approved and blessed by the high priestess. And all unmated omegas rooms are on the opposite side of the alphas. It is very important that you follow all rules, but especially this one. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I understand.” He understood the rule but does that mean he was going to follow it? He could certainly try. But that scent was intoxicating and the closer they got to the sietch the stronger it got. He knows given the chance, he’d break that rule in an instant. Consequences be damned.

“Many wait for their soul bound mate and majority of them die alone, never finding the one.” Paul found this odd. Soul bounds are few and far between nowadays and he comes from a place where mating is a transaction, a bargain, something of power and not of love. But as that sugary sweet scent swirls around him, almost making him dizzy, he thinks he might understand wanting to wait for your one. It’s been a few years now since he presented and no omega has ever smelled even remotely appealing to him. They either smelled of nothing or downright revolting, his only reprieve was in his dreams. His dreams filled with that sugary smell and the figure of a woman whose face he could never quite make out.

When Stilgar pulled his mother aside Paul found himself alone in a room filled with stares. Some looked at him in awe, certain he was their long awaited Maud’Dib. Others looked at him with disdain, snickering to each other as they shamelessly pointed his way. But he honestly wasn’t concerned with any of it, because as he sat against the stony wall the scent was stronger than ever. He could almost taste it. His eyes searched the room, craving nothing more than to put a face to the smell that has nearly become his drug. But as he looked across the various faces surrounding him, no one stuck out to him.

But he was certain she was in this room, if not this one than the next. That warm saccharine scent was so close it was as if it were right next to him. That’s when he feels a tap on his shoulder, causing him to jump. Either this person was stealthy or he was so lost in thought he didn’t hear them approaching but when his head whips around to see who it is he feels like his heart is going to burst. He hears the sound of bells ringing, a sound that he’s only heard in the churches back home. There standing over him is the most ethereal woman he’s ever seen, beautiful, perfect, sweet smelling, you.

“Hello, Paul Atreides, I’ve been waiting for you.” You smile down at him sweetly, your eyes filled with adoration. You aren’t dressed like the Fremen, no tans or browns or stillsuit to be found. A black silky dress adorns your form, fitting you perfectly. There’s a sheer midnight colored scarf wrapped around your head and shoulders, framing your face like the greatest work of art. You weren’t Fremen. You were a Bene Gesserit. Or at the very least, one in training.

“I think… I’ve been waiting for you too.” Paul’s voice is trance-like, looking up at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. The sound of the voice you’ve heard so many times in your slumber sending chills down your spine.

“Won’t you come with me? I have so much to tell you.” You look at him eagerly, offering him your danity ringed hand.

“I don’t know if I’m… supposed to…” He wants nothing more than to follow you. He would follow you into one of the suns of Arakkis if you asked him to. But he knew he was already on thin ice here and he feared what would happen to him and his mother if he were to upset anyone further.

“Do not bother with them, they will see the way. They will see what I’ve seen. Soon they will be cheering your name. Come.”

Paul scans the room, all eyes are on the two of you but when he looks back at your reassuring smile it’s like no one else matters, no one else exists. He takes your hand, letting you pull him along through hallways and far away from prying eyes. You drag him into a room that he assumes is yours, shutting the door behind you.

“Have you dreamt of me, Paul?” You sit on the bed and pull the scarf from your head, leaning back on your palms. You look so beautiful and the room is engulfed in your scent. It clings to every inch of the space and radiates off of you in waves.

“Yes… have you dreamt of me?” He takes an apprehensive step toward you, leaving a few feet of distance between the two of you. His green eyes feel as if they’re eating you alive and the scent of him causes slick to rush into your panties.

“Yes, every night since I presented as an omega my dreams have been filled with nothing but you. And more recently I’ve had visions of you in my waking hours. Will you tell me, Paul, about your dreams?” Your voice is as sweet as your scent. The way you’re leaning back on your hands makes the silk of your dress taunt against your breasts, your peaked nipples on display. The sight of you and the unmistakable smell of your slick makes his cock stir in his pants.

“They aren’t very vivid… mostly just flashes of you from behind, the sound of your voice, you were always saying ‘come to me Paul, for I am your destiny’ but your scent? That was so clear to me.” He takes another step forward, reaching a hand out as if he’s going to touch you but he lets it fall to his side, like he thought better of it. “I didn’t know it was possible to have a sense of smell in your dreams, but night after night I was surrounded by your scent as I slept.”

“I could smell you as well and I smelled you the minute you arrived. But my dreams are much more detailed than yours. There is much you do not know.” You approach him, closing the small distance between you. You rest your hands on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes. “Would you like me to tell you about them?”

“I’d love nothing more, omega.” His thumb gently caresses the apple of your cheek before traveling down to push some of your hair off your shoulder. He’s looking down at you expectantly, eagerly waiting for you to speak.

“Your dreams are correct, I am your destiny, and you are mine. I can feel the doubt in your heart, feel that you do not believe in yourself, do not believe that you are the Maud’Dib but you are, sweet Paul. For I have seen it.”

“Tell me? What have you seen?” He searches your eyes for signs of doubt or deceit but all he sees is truth there. Truth and the same adoring look you gave him when he first saw you.

“I’ve seen you learning the ways of the Fremen. I’ve seen you move them, rally them. I’ve seen a battle in which you win. I’ve seen you upon the emperor's throne, ruling over all, with me by your side, our child in my arms.” Your hands travel from his chest to take his face in your soft palms where you rub soothing circles on his temples.

“You saw… all of that?” Paul’s voice sounded exasperated, like what you’ve told him took all the breath from his lungs. He feels like it has. The finality and bluntness in which you speak tell him that your words are true.

“Yes, and more. There will be plenty of time to tell you about it all. But right now? I need you.” Right as the words leave your mouth a gush of slick drips down your legs. The presence of your mate triggering your heat weeks early.

“Tell me what you need, omega.” His voice drops an octave, taking on that deep alpha tone. It makes your heart speed up as another gush of slick drips from your core. You can’t help but think what it would be like if he used The Voice on you. Regularless of how absolutely blasphemous that would be considered.

“I need you, alpha. I need your cock. I need you to fill me up and lock your seed inside me with your knot.” Paul lets out a growl before reaching out, one hand gripping onto your hip to pull you flush against him and the other going to the back of your neck so he could connect his lips with your own.

The kiss starts off rough, eager, and hungry. But after a few moments his lips become tender against your own, his fingers threading through your hair as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You grant him access, immediately intertwining his tongue with your own, moaning at the taste of him.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, my moon. Ask for it and it is yours.” He kisses down your jaw to your throat where he runs the tip of his nose along your scent gland, inhaling deeply. “You wish for me to make love to you? Then I shall.”

Paul pushes the thin straps of your satin dress down your shoulders, kissing along the column of your throat, your collar bones, across your shoulders. You drop your arms so the straps fall the rest of the way down, the dress slipping down your body with them. Leaving you bare before him aside from the thin black material of your panties.

“Absolutely beautiful, angelic.” He runs the back of his hand down your cheek, your jaw, your neck, all the way down until his back knuckles are caressing the tender peaks of your nipples. He slides it across your chest, giving the other the same treatment before taking both of your tits in his hands. He gently squeezes them, pinching your hardened nipples between his fingers, eliciting little whimpers from you.

“I heard your mother has been teaching you our ways. How is your training?” Paul raises an eyebrow at you, certainly wondering why you’re asking him about that at a time like this. “I only ask because I was wondering if you might want to practice on me.”

“Do you mean…?” He looks at you with wide eyes and you smirk, biting your lip.

“That’s exactly what I mean. I can feel your apprehension, don’t be afraid, I want this.” You lean into him, smashing his hands that are still on your chest between your bodies as you lean up to you run your nose along his scent gland, darting your tongue out to taste the sweat and spice that coat his skin. He grabs onto your shoulders, pushing you back so he can look in your eyes, searching for any signs of doubt. But as every other time he’s looked in your eyes tonight, he’s seen nothing but honesty there. Nothing but truth.

“Get on the bed on your back. Spread your legs.” Your body immediately reacts, doing exactly as he asks. Paul approaches the foot of the bed, standing between your spread legs. “That’s a good girl.”

His hands grip onto your knees, pushing your legs further apart, leaning down to shove his face between your legs. His nose runs along the soaked material of your panties, deeply inhaling the sugary sweet smell of your slick.

“Alpha, please.”

“You do not have to beg, my moon. I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” Paul smirks up at you before lacing his fingers into the band of your panties and ripping them in half. He runs his tongue up your slit, circling it around your sensitive clit. The feeling of his hot wet mouth has you coming undone instantly, your slick gushing all over his chin and down his neck where it drips onto his shirt. He moans at the taste, sweeter than anything that’s ever graced his taste buds. “Yes, that’s my good little omega, give it all to me, let me drink in your sweet nectar.”

He dives back in, shoving his tongue as deep into your pussy as it can go, fucking you with it. His lips come up to wrap around your clit while his fingers circle your dripping entrance. He runs his fingers through your folds before shoving them knuckle deep inside of you.

“Oh fuck! I’m going to cum again, I’m gonna cum.” You move your hips against his face as he curls his fingers against your sweet spot, your legs clamp around his head and your entire body shakes as your high washes over you. Paul pushes himself up from the bed, ridding himself of his clothes before climbing back over to you, situating himself on top of you with his hands on either side of your head. His hard cock is resting against your lower stomach, the tip leaking precum onto your skin.

“I want to taste you too.” You run your fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face. You didn’t even care that the ache between your legs wouldn’t be satiated until he was inside you, you needed to taste him.

“Next time. I need to be inside you now.” It comes out a soft whisper, his forehead resting against your own. He reaches between your bodies, taking his cock in his hand and lining it up with your entrance. He connects his lips with your own, kissing you passionately as he begins to push inside you. You both moan as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your own. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, slipping your tongue into his mouth as his thrusts begin to pick up.

“Mmm you feel amazing, my love, my lord, my emperor.” Paul looks into your eyes as he continues to fuck you at a linguid pace, rolling his hips against your own as he pushes himself as deep inside you as possible.

“My moon, my destiny.” He picks up the pace, pushing up on his knees and wrapping your legs around his hips. Your tits jiggle with every thrust, the fucked out love sick gaze that you send his way makes his skin even hotter.

“I want you to fill me up, alpha. Fill me with your cum. Put a pup in me. So we can fulfill our prophecy.” Paul snakes a hand between the two of you, connecting his thumb with your clit so he can rub circles on it in time with his thrusts.

“Open your mouth.” The sound of him using The Voice makes your walls clench around him, your jaw dropping open at his command. He leans down, letting the spit that had collected in his mouth drip down into your tongue. “Swallow it.”

You swallow with an audible gulp. Your heart warming at the gesture that anywhere else would be considered lewd but here on Arakkis to share one’s sacred spit with another was a grand gesture of love.

“Thank you, my love. You taste better than the finest feast. I cannot wait to know what your cum tastes like.” Paul groans at that, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. His thrusts start to grow sloppy but he refuses to finish before you do.

“Cum for me.” As soon as the words leave his mouth your walls are convulsing around him, sucking him as your slick soaks his cock.

“Mark me, Paul. Sink your teeth into my flesh and bind us together as we are meant to be.” You tug on his arms, pulling his upper half so it’s draped over you, his face buried in your neck. His thrusts become slow and deep again, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you.

“But Stilgar said…” He groans, using every ounce of strength in his body to not just sink his teeth into your soft neck.

“I do not care what Stilgar said. This is bigger than him. Bigger than all of them. Mark me.” His mouth moves before his mind can process what’s happening, his teeth sinking deep into your flesh, breaking the skin. The feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt. Electricity washes through your body, the most world altering orgasm of your life wracks through you, and you feel like your soul leaves you, connecting with Paul’s before returning to your earthly vessel. He pushes his hips flush against yours, ropes of his cum spilling inside you.

“Oh fucking shit.” Paul groans, pulling his mouth from your neck, gliding his tongue over the indents of his teeth. He leans back to look at you, eyes roaming your face. His knot swells inside of you and a look of pain crosses your features before turning into one of ecstasy. Loud moans leave your lips as your final orgasm of the night washes over you. Paul leans down, connecting his lips with yours, kissing you like it’s the last thing he will ever do. Though it was far from it.

“I hope you are not upset with me, Maud’Dib.” You take his face in your hands, running the top of your nose along his cheek.

“I don’t think I could ever be upset with you, my love. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on when you used The Voice on me…” he chuckles, resting his forehead against your own. “I am so happy I finally found you…”

“You have me now, until the day I take my last breath I will belong to you, Paul Atreides. Together, we will accomplish great things.”

#paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x you #paul atredies smut #paul atreides x fem!reader #paul atreides fanfic #Paul atreides one shot #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #dune smut #dune fanfic #dune fanfiction

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andy-15-07 · 3 months

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Are your requests open??

I would love to see you where the reader/OFC is a concubine of Paul Atreides. She doesn’t get much attention from him but when she goes in to labor there is a complication and she becomes scared. Paul as the Emperor shows up to help her through the labor and starts developing a positive relationship with her and his child postpartum.

Thank you!! Please keep writing things you have passion for!! ❤️

Bonds Beyond Blood

masterlist ! pairing: Paul Atreides x reader

Dune Masterlist

Y/n lay on the ornate bed, her hand clutching the bedsheets tightly as pain wracked through her body. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her breathing shallow and labored. The midwives moved around her with practiced efficiency, but their words seemed distant, muffled by the intensity of her fear.

Paul Atreides, the Emperor, stood by the doorway, his expression a mask of concern. He had never been one to show much interest in Y/n, his concubine, beyond the duties of his station. But now, as he watched her struggle, something stirred within him.

"Is she going to be alright?" Paul asked the head midwife, his voice betraying a hint of anxiety.

The midwife glanced at him briefly before returning her attention to Y/n. "We are doing everything we can, Your Majesty. But there are complications. The baby's position is not ideal, and Y/n is exhausted."

Paul nodded, his jaw clenched. He couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness that washed over him. This was one situation he couldn't control with his political power or military might.

Y/n's cries filled the room, echoing off the walls of the chamber. Paul felt a pang of guilt deep within him. He had neglected her, taken her presence for granted. But now, seeing her in such agony, he couldn't ignore the bond they shared, however distant it had been.

Without a word, Paul crossed the room and took Y/n's hand in his own. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear and pain.

"Paul..." she gasped, her voice barely a whisper.

"I'm here, Y/n," Paul said softly, his tone soothing. "I won't leave your side."

Y/n squeezed his hand tightly, drawing strength from his presence. Despite their past indifference, she found solace in his touch, in the warmth of his hand against hers.

Minutes stretched into hours as Y/n endured the agonizing pain of labor. Paul remained by her side, offering words of encouragement and support. With each contraction, he whispered words of reassurance, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of her fear.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the sound of a baby's cry filled the room. Tears of relief streamed down Y/n's cheeks as she held her newborn child in her arms.

Paul watched, his heart swelling with emotion, as Y/n cradled their child against her chest. In that moment, he felt a connection unlike any he had ever known before. It wasn't just the bond of blood that tied him to this child, but something deeper, something more profound.

"I never knew..." Paul began, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the right words.

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears. "Neither did I," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the soft cries of their child.

In the days that followed, Paul remained by Y/n's side, helping her adjust to motherhood and caring for their newborn child. With each passing day, their bond grew stronger, forged in the fires of adversity and nurtured by the love they shared for their child.

As they sat together in the quiet moments of the night, watching over their sleeping infant, Paul found himself opening up to Y/n in a way he never thought possible. He shared his fears, his hopes, his dreams for the future, laying bare his soul before her.

And in turn, Y/n shared her own hopes and dreams, her fears and insecurities, trusting Paul with her most intimate thoughts and feelings.

In the weeks and months that followed, Paul and Y/n's relationship blossomed into something beautiful and profound. They may have started as mere strangers, bound together by duty and circumstance, but now they were so much more than that.

They were partners, allies, confidants. And as they watched their child grow and thrive, they knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together, united in love and devotion.

For in the end, it wasn't power or prestige that defined them, but the simple yet profound bond of family. And in that bond, they found the true meaning of happiness and fulfillment.

#paul atreides imagines #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x female reader #paul atreides x you #paul atreides #paul atreides imagine #dune x you #dune x reader #dune imagines #dune imagine #dune part 2 #dune fanfiction #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet x reader

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theroyalyandere · 1 year

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request: Hello can I request yandere Emperor with a foreign dancer reader??? Like reader is runaway princess of a kingdom because she didn't wanted to marry an old noble man whom her parents choose for her to gain political support. Thank you!!

yandere!emperor x dancer!reader

you escaped your kingdom in the disguise of a dancer and it worked well with how skilled you are at dancing.

you ran away because your wish to marry for love was disregarded by the king and queen, your parents. they instead arranged you to a wealthy old nobel who's obviously does not have the best intentions.

you travelled along with your crew to various kingdoms to perform.

until you stopped to perform at the yandere!emperor's empire.

he was well known to be a benevolent emperor he already had a harem of his own occupied by the most beautiful women in the empire.

however he has not taken any empress yet, despite the Court's determination to marry one of their daughters to their beloved emperor.

when the day of the feast came, you were the star of the performance. eyes were on you, dazzling as you dance with grace.

with your beauty, everyone has fallen for you including the emperor himself.

he felt his heart beating out of his chest the moment his eyes landed on you, he couldn't take his eyes of you looking like a fever dream.

at that very moment he was determined to make you his.

he immediately asked his right hand to know about you and offered your crew to stay at the palace for a while in return for the performance you had given.

he started to subtly court you by asking for your presence to join in him for tea and a chat.

he then started to take you out on dates, which you don't mind assuming it was only the emperor's kindness and hospitality.

he also gave you gifts such as clothes and jewelery or anything your heart desires he will have it granted to you.

it took a while to make you fall for him but you did.

the emperor couldn't be even happier than having you.

he started to spoil you more and more which made his affections to you even obvious to the eyes of others.

he only requested you to his chambers to spend the night with him leaving the harem confused by his actions.

his courtship towards you spread out like fire within the empire.

because of this the court still continued to pursue the emperor to marry their daughters and it led to the jealousy of his consorts and concubines

you were subjected to various humiliation whenever the emperor was not around but you kept quiet to not cause a fuss

until you were fed up with the mistreatment

you packed your things and talked to the crew to leave the empire and embark on another adventure

when you went to see the emperor, he was happy to see you and even offered to spend time with you

however, his happiness was shattered the moment you said you needed to leave

he went to you and pulled you closer to him asking why are you leaving him and was begging not to leave him because you are his life

you hesitated to tell him but decided not to so you kept silent and went away.

that day the emperor became harsh and cold towards the servants and everyone who crosses his way.

he couldn't let you go, so he ordered his loyal servant to find out the cause of you suddenly leaving him.

it enraged him when he found out how you were treated by the nobles and his harem during your stay.

so he ordered his knights to murder all of the concubines and nobles who participated to make you miserable.

he also investigated your background and found out you were a runaway princess

he immediately went to negotiate with your parents to cut your engagement to whoever noble that it was in exchange for a greater benefit in exchange for your hand

they agree to his offer and he left, but not without a chaos at the kingdom

this action sparked a fear towards everyone among the empire.

they certainly did not expect him to commit a mass murder just because of a foreign dancer.

the news reached to you and you couldn't deny how it made you afraid soon enough he will be out to get you.

guess what, the next morning you open the door and see him staring at you with craziness and love behind those eyes of his.

behind him is his knights conquering the village you are staying at.

he grins down at you "hello my love, I'm glad to see you again."

I hope you like this! :)

#yandere!emperor #yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere emperor x reader #yandere oc #yandere hcs #yandere #yandere reader insert #royal requests #fem!reader

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kafkasmuses · 1 month

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CALIGULA — luke castellan + reader : luke castellan, in all his reign, has a love for sexual pleasure, more importantly with you.

tags: mdni, inspired by ancient roman stories, luke is a pervert, dark!luke, p in v sex, jealousy, possessiveness, assistant!reader, captain!luke, luke is an awful man in this sawry

a/n: ive been binge watching the roman empire show

LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR.

41 AD.

luke castellan can’t deny how harsh of a captain he was on the princess andromeda.

he wanted to be the best captain on the sea, wanted to get his revenge on camp halfblood and the gods, wanted to live the lavish life he had always dreamed of. he thought of a life where he would drink red wine out of chalices, be fed grapes from the hands of beautiful women, or men, he wanted to be treated like a god— because in his mind, he would be the best god to ever exist.

you started out as his assistant, writing papers for him on a simple typewriter that he gave to you, a fucking typewriter. you tried to remind him it was no longer the 1950s, he scoffed like you were stupid. “you know people used them in the 1800s, right?”

your lips press together, looking at him, then the typewriter, then back to him. you offer a small smile, and he doesn’t return it, he never does, and he never will. luke took things very seriously, maybe too seriously, so he never let himself smile, let alone laugh, a bitter scoff was all you’d get from him at most.

you were pliant, luke noticed, and he liked that. you did everything he asked, every time he asked. he’d call your name, and hear your heels clicking against the wooden floorboards no less than a second later. speaking of heels, luke was strict about dress codes, too.

to call him a pervert.. well, you wouldn’t be far off.

he wanted you to wear things like tight pencil skirts, short or long, thin tights, maybe even solely stockings, stiletto heels that he’d purchased for you the second he saw you show up in mary janes, and a simple shirt or blouse. he liked glasses, too, thin, square framed ones, like bayonetta’s.

you had to wear dark red lipstick, regardless.

you hated your boss, more than anything, the way he’d walk into a room and easily command it, the way his body language reeked of cockiness, the way that despite all evilness, he still thought he was doing something for the greater good.

what you hated the most, is how much you fantasized about him.

that’s why you always ran to him so quick when he called out for you, why you endured the loud clacking of the typewriter keys even when you had to do a paper at night and he opened your door to yell at you to ‘shut the fuck up or get thrown off the damn boat.’

he was never a good man, nor a good boss, but he looked good.

you liked when he was angry, when he yelled at you, when he held your jaw so tight you were sure he’d shatter it and spit degrading words at you like you were vile. it should be such a shame that you enjoy it, but you don’t pity yourself one bit. he was meaner with you, he always cracked awful jokes with the rest of the crew, drank beers with them, lit their cigarettes, but you, you were the person he took all his anger out on.

well, at first it was anger.

then he began to ever so slowly show his desires for sexual connections. he was able to hold it in at first, act like he wasn’t missing having sex, like he wasn’t missing the simple touch of a woman or man. masturbating wasn’t keeping him sane for long, not when he didn’t have anything to masturbate to. then he began to focus his attention onto you.

you were attractive, and luke couldn’t hold back how his short glances turned to stares. his jaw ticks, lips parting, “i want you to wear shorter skirts.”

“mini skirts?” you blink at him, he had called you to his office, and his eyes were traveling over your body every second he got.

“yeah,” he pauses, “and lower cut shirts.”

before your lips can even part, he dismisses you, and bluntly stares at your ass when you walk away. it was so ironic, luke used to be such a virgin, a complete loser, but now he was nothing short of the opposite. he was cocky, he knew he was handsome, he knew people were attracted to him easily, mostly sexually.

if luke was lucky, at some stops, he might be able to bring back a few women or men home with him, they always gawked at the ship, told him how cool it is that he has a boat, that he’s a captain, and has a crew, that everyone does everything for him.

they thought it was hot, so they wanted to do things for him to, he’d take them to his quarters, and provide them with red wine before moaning could be heard all throughout the ship.

but his boat was in the middle of the sea, and has been for a month or so now, and he felt like he was going insane.

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🍷

luke was struggling to sleep, insomnia was getting the best of him, he thought that if he drank more and more wine, he would eventually wind down. he never did. he only got slopper, and aroused. the worst mix on nights like these was the bubbling frustration that he didn’t have anything to fuck, and the fact that he wanted to fuck something so bad.

his dick strains in his boxers, and his teeth grit together, mentally cursing himself for continuously offering himself one more drink, after the third glass, knowing he’d have a fourth, and a fifth. he’d drank the whole bottle, and he wasn’t even close to tired.

his body feels warm, so warm. you come to his mind almost immediately, making his his hands draw closer to the hem of his boxers. the way your ass looks in those skirts, the stockings that meet at the middle of your thigh, the sheer shirts that barely showed the color of your bra, the slight cleavage you show when leaning over to place paperwork on his desk.

he recalls the one time he had came into your room in the dead of night in search of a document, but he was immediately met with the floral of your perfume, and the way your blanket barely covered your naked form. he shouldn’t look, really, he should shy away and close the door, but he swallows thick seeing your breast, the slight parting of your legs, the way your cunt barely peeks out the messily moved blanket.

he wouldn’t have actually done it, of course, because he’s a respectable man who puts consent above all else— but he wonders what it would look like if he pushed your legs apart, moved the blanket, and spread your pussy open for him. to be sleeping naked, how scandalous. he’d never know that you purposefully put the document in your room when you knew you wanted it, you purposefully slept naked, you purposefully moved the blanket in those ‘messy’ ways.

he inhales sharply, fingers moving underneath the fabric of his boxers to graze over his cock. it’s so perverted, to think of you like this, to imagine pulling you onto his lap the next time you come into his office, fingers gripping your skin the same way they grip his cock now. you’d probably melt into his touch, so innocent, so pliant, your doe eyes staring at him like he’s the only man who had ever existed, like he’s a god. and that’s what he is, a captain, an emperor, a god.

he thinks of himself, and is immediately reminded of caligula.

the roman emperor in 31 AD, he was described by some as a tyrant, but in the beginning, he was one of the best leaders in ancient rome. he was just like luke, addicted to sexual acts, wanting all the finest things in life, and the worst part— luke was just as paranoid as him.

but that was of no worry now, he was too focused on the pleasure that coursed underneath his flesh, or the simple thought of pushing his dick into your cunt, making your eyes roll back with pleasure you’d only ever dreamed of. luke knew he could make you feel good, and eventually he would. he imagined all the positions he would push you into, on your back, on your stomach with your ass up, having you ride him— gods.

he wondered if whenever you tried to make excuses for being far too late at typing up a paper in time, he could just simply have you on your knees for him, fucking your mouth so you’d shut up. bruising your lips, ruining your lipstick, making you cry, all of those thoughts sends luke over the edge in no less than a minute or two.

his skin is sticky with sweat, fingers coated in his own cum, but all he wants is more.

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🍷

like mentioned before, luke had a madness problem.

ever since he had been cast out, he had this odd paranoia problem, he thought the gods would strike him down at any second, that they were watching his every move, or that percy jackson would find his way to his ship and kill him himself for all the damage he’s caused.

the lack of sex wasn’t the only thing driving luke mad, it was the cage of his own mind. the fact that he’s surrounded by the very thing that the man who’s responsible for percy’s existence owns, the sea. it all makes him sick, often times there will be crashing from his quarters in the late of night, but it always stopped as soon as it started.

this night was different, it just kept going. first something being pushed over, then the breaking of glass, more crashing, more shatters, yelling, some screaming— it was a nightmare. some of the crew woke up, but you were the only one who dared to take a step out onto the deck that night, let alone approach his quarters.

knock. knock. knock.

no response, a deafening silence underneath the crashing waves and the crackling of the candle in your hand.

knock. knock.

the lack of response is worrying. he almost always responds, either it’s to tell you to fuck off, or to come in. but now, nothing. he couldn’t have hurt himself, could he? you test the waters, fingers curling around the doorknob and turning it with the expectation for it to be locked as it always is.

it was unlocked. you push the door open, glancing in to see the mess that he had made of his own room, and him just simply sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. “luke?”

“captain,” he immediately mumbles out, a correction.

“captain,” you repeat, taking a step further inside, he has offered nothing against you being inside of his quarters. you are typically never allowed in here. you move to close the door behind you, placing the candle into the nearest holder that wasn’t completely destroyed.

you turn back to him, his head was raised to look at you, arms now lazily splayed onto his spread legs in his sitting position. he was a chronic manspreader, something you noticed, but seeing him faintly hunched over pathetically like this, tired eyes staring at you, sweat beading at his temple— he was so hot.

“are you okay?” you offer, voice as sweet as ever.

“am i okay?” he scoffs, a chuckle following after, he’s never chuckled in front of you before, “am i okay, am i okay—“ he hums, “what do you think, hm? you think i’m okay?”

his voice is confronting and harsh, like he wants to see you cower down, like he wants to break you like all the other things in his room. your brows furrow together for a second, “no..?”

“no, no, atta girl— you’re catchin’ on,” he smiles at you for the first time, “why don’t you help me feel better, yeah?”

you stare at him for a second, wondering if he meant what you thought he meant, “yeah.”

“yeah.” his voice is hushed, almost mocking, “c’mere.”

you immediately walk over to him in the ambient lighting, marking out your silhouette, stepping over all the things he’s knocked over. a grin tugs at his lips, cruel and cocky, he loves how easy you do anything he asks. his hand is gentle on your waist, pulling you closer, “so good for me.”

you nod at him, letting his hand guide you down to your knees, pupils dilated up at him so perfectly. his tongue swipes along the backside of his teeth, moving his hand to hold your jaw, tilting your head to properly look up at him. maybe it was wrong to fuck his assistant, someone working for him, but it just felt so right, all of this felt like it was in the prophecy.

his thumb swipes along your bottom lip, smearing the red lipstick there, of course you put that on before coming to his room. “so pretty,” he mumbles under his breath, dipping his finger between your lips and into your mouth. your lips curve up ever so slightly, leaning into his touch, lips closing around his flesh.

he takes it away from your mouth just as quick as it was slotted between your lips, moving to undo his belt, the veins in his hands shifted with each movement of his hands, first it was his belt, then his pants, then his boxers.

you always thought luke would have a big dick, he just has that certain cockiness that makes you think he couldn’t have a small dick and be acting the way he is, but this felt like it would hardly fit in your mouth.

you glance up at him, his amused stare which immediately turns to faux concern when you say, “i don’t think it’ll fit—“

“it will,” he immediately cuts in, prying your mouth open with his thumb whilst his free hand eases your head closer, “i’ll make it fit.”

your tongue runs along the vein at the bottom of his dick, already feeling the heaviness of it against the muscle in your mouth. you had sucked a few dicks before, sure, but this one was the biggest, and the cleanest. his hand holds your jaw when you start taking him into your mouth properly, tongue flat against the bottom of his cock, eyes peering up at him through heavy lids.

his lashes flutter pathetically, mouth falling open with your every movement, the way the saliva from your mouth coats him perfectly— he needed this. it felt like a dream coming right after a nightmare, he was exhausted, sweating from his breakdown, and you were sent to him right when he needed it, an angel on his shoulder.

but you’re going too slow, and luke’s growing restless from sitting so still. he can feel the ache of your jaw, but he wishes to make it worse somehow, as cruel as it sounds. his hand moves to the back of your head, hips ever so slowly bucking into your mouth, it was barely noticeable at first, until the sound of you sputtering and gagging around him fueled him more.

his thrusts quickly turned harsh, bruising, merciless.

he only paused when you slapped at his thigh pathetically, moving off to pant heavily, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. you looked so messy, so pathetic, lipstick smeared, eyes puffy from falling tears. “always wanted this, huh? i notice how you look at me, always running to my office any chance you get, such a slut.”

you nod at him, and that only makes him want to say more, “do you believe in god?”

“yes, yes,” the response is immediate.

“am i your god?”

you pause at him, processing, what would the best answer be?

yes, of course, that would be the best answer. in luke’s own mind, all this misery, all this destruction, all this betrayal, it was only the start of his story to reach the top. when caligula was next in line for the throne and his father was on his deathbed, he killed his own father with hardly any hesitation, then became one of the most memorable roman emperors alongside julius caesar.

luke had been planning the murder of hermes for a long, long time, ever since the first book about caligula he read. killing percy jackson was a failure, all several times, so he had no other choice than to just shoot for the stars.

luke’s eyes refocus onto the situation at hand rather than being stuck in his own mind, he had you pushed on your stomach with your ass up, the position he always wished to put you in, the position he’s put multiple other women and men in.

his hands smooth over your ass, memorizing the canvas that he wants to splatter paint over. there’s something so intimate about this whole ordeal, the dim lighting of sole candles in all the destruction around his room, the crashing of waves on the sides of the boat as it moves through the sea, the red wine that luke drinks from the bottle he had just picked up.

he hums at the taste, rich, perfect. “want some?”

you shake your head, and he tuts in faux disappointment, “no fun, aren’t you? just want me to fuck you? needy, needy.”

albeit his degrations, his tip presses to your entrance, lips pressing together when he pushes in— holy fuck, you were tight. luke’s breathing is ragged, he feels as though your pussy is desperately trying to squeeze an orgasm out of him in seconds. it only worsens when you accidentally glench, making his teeth grit together, he coughs out a bitter chuckle, “you did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“no, nono—“ it was too late for the begging for forgiveness, his thrusts were already brutal, slamming into you without a single regard for how much pain it would leave you in, in the morning. caligula was a possessive lover, a harsh fucker, a man ruled by jealousy and madness— luke castellan was born from the same map of caligula.

his hands grip your hips harshly, punching out sweet moans from your bitten lips with every thrust, “fuck, fuck! luke!”

luke’s tongue prods at the inside of his cheek for a mere second before his hand suddenly moves to the back of your head, harshly tugging your hair back, “captain.”

another correction.

as soon as your back hits his chest, his hand moves from your hair to your neck, gripping the delicate skin there tight. he ignores your attempts to get his attention by placing sloppy, open mouthed kisses to his jaw, leaving his skin stained with your lipstick. his eyes were too focused on the mirror placed in front of him, of course he had one there, it was cracked, but he was still able to make out the way your skin trembled underneath him, the way his thrusts sent shivers up your spine, the way he easily made you cock drunk.

it didn’t take long for him to have you cumming on him as well, in which he followed soon after with a gritted out fuck.

luke’s eyes may be glazed over when he looks back in the mirror, but he doesn’t see himself in his position, he sees caligula.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan blurb #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan oneshot #pjo luke #charlie bushnell imagine #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell x you #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell smut

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jenscx · 5 months

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YOUR MAJESTY — jang wonyoung x f!reader

happily married, you assumed nothing would come between you and wonyoung. but everyone makes mistakes sometimes, right?

TAGS — angst, jealousy, princess!wonyoung, commoner!yn, wony’s lowk mean, aaa i feel bad for yn, pt.2 to my darling but you can read this without reading that

WORDCOUNT — 3.1k

marrying the princess was a dream. after being introduced to the emperor and empress, they immediately started preparations for your wedding. soon, wonyoung was to take over the throne and you would have to be by her side. the public were certainly shocked when wonyoung announced the lifelong partnership not to a duke or a noble, but a commoner. even now, curious gazes wander all over you, wondering what made you so attractive for the princess to reject other handsome and wealthy nobles.

after the wedding, wonyoung had been swarmed with work. being her partner, you had to take up some of the assignments as well. while wonyoung had to deal with external affairs such as relations with foreign countries, you were to deal with internal affairs— overseeing the public’s perspective of the royal family and making sure that all the funds were fairly dealt with.

at first it was tiring. you didn’t expect to be handed so much workload the moment you agreed to marry wonyoung. and it was even worse after wonyoung’s coronation. your princess had become her majesty and had to take care of everything concerning the empire. while you felt extremely proud of wonyoung’s ability to stay focused and finish tasks, a certain part of you felt lonely at the increasing distance between you and the empress.

even in your shared room, you spent countless nights waiting for wonyoung, only to be informed that once again, she was drowning in a sea of assignments and would be held up in her office. the first few times, you couldn’t control your emotions, disappointment wrecked your face and even the messenger, gaeul, one of wonyoung’s personal guards, had to comfort you.

the empty side of your bed always seemed to be mocking you. pristine silk sheets, never touched when you were around. it was like wonyoung was avoiding you. your face fell. wonyoung was avoiding you.

you turn your body away from the empty space reserved for wonyoung, squeezing your eyes shut to not imagine the empress staring at you coldly, unwilling to even share a bed with you.

hours had passed and you were still battling your uncertainty. what if she was really busy? wonyoung being newly crowned had launched her into a pile of work. despite training to become the new empress, she could easily be struggling with the workload. as her partner, shouldn’t you be taking the initiative to help her out? you got out of bed, throwing on a robe above your nightdress.

despite the late hour, the hallways were still brightly lit, probably by request of wonyoung who was burning the midnight oil. you remember the first time you and wonyoung had drank together. it was right after your wedding, wine being one of the biggest congratulatory gifts. with wonyoung’s invitation to test out every single one of the bottles, you had gotten extremely intoxicated, as well as the princess at that time. you recall the stumble back to your room, giggling and grasping onto any surface of the hallway.

sighing, you walk through the same hallway and headed for wonyoung’s office. with it being so late, there were no guards stationed outside. wonyoung’s personal guard was probably protecting the empress inside. there was a slight crack in the door, emitting light. you inched closer, hearing the passionate voice of the woman you loved. it was wrong to eavesdrop but when you had caught your name uttered in a hush whisper, your curiosity took over your moral compass.

“—and how can you leave your wife alone? a few weeks ago you could barely even leave her side, now all she does is live every day without your presence.”

“even if i love her with all my heart, i can’t deal with her bothering me every second. i just need time alone away from her.” your heart plummets. the sinking realisation that wonyoung was annoyed with you being around her hurt more than any stab wound could.

you had thought wonyoung was busy and therefore didn’t have any time for you, yet she was actively finding ways to avoid spending even a second with you. how could you be so naive to think she wouldn’t be bothered by your clingy nature? deciding to spare yourself the hurt, you slithered away from the door, not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation.

why would you? the empress had so clearly expressed her discomfort. you wouldn’t want to force her to endure any more burden. with a heavy heart, you lugged yourself to the first floor, through the many hallways and eventually arrived at the garden with connected the emperor and empress’ palaces, or in your case, wonyoung and yours.

normally the emperor’s consort would live in a room separate from the emperor, but wonyoung had put on such a cute facade with her big doe eyes and pout, begging you to reside in her palace instead. how could she change her behaviour so easily? you wondered. the walk to your unused bedroom was fleeting and like a robot, you dropped onto the bed, sheets barely touched, reminiscent of the side you constantly watched back in wonyoung’s room.

you couldn’t help but think of the past memories. wonyoung was so sweet and way more affectionate than you. now she was complaining about you being the same? you gritted your teeth, tears staining the pillowcase. for some reason, the bed felt colder than usual.

one thing was for certain, wonyoung was bewildered at your sudden distance. it was strange that when she finally headed to bed, you weren’t there wrapped in the duvet cover. it was even stranger that you barely spoke a word during breakfast, choosing to just hum or nod in acknowledgement.

the only time you spoke was to question the progress of the newest trading decree with the nearby kingdom. wonyoung’s patience was running thin. she could only stand a few more days of silent treatment before bringing it up.

“i noticed you weren’t in our bedroom last night,” or the previous nights, wonyoung wanted to add on. you pause, thinking of what to say in return.

“it felt stuffy,” you merely reply. wonyoung nods, “should i expect you to be in our bedroom tonight?”

“should i expect you in our bedroom?” you ask sharply, raising an eyebrow as you brought a piece of the cut strawberry into your mouth.

wonyoung parts her lips, shock invading her face, “what do you mean?”

you push yourself up from the table, “nothing. i’m done eating.”

the empress eyes you weirdly, deciding to stand up as well. she had to get to the bottom of your sudden strange behaviour.

“is something bothering you?” wonyoung reaches out a hand, attempting to grab yours, “you can tell me anything.”

you shift away from her, dodging her hand. hurt flashes across her face and you feel bad momentarily. but that moment of hurt couldn’t compare to what you felt that night. wonyoung sighs, “what’s going on?”

with pursed lips, you resisted the urge to blurt out what you had heard, choosing to stay silent, chin up in defiance.

“i don’t have all day, darling. a certain prince from a neighbouring land is visiting and demands an audience,” wonyoung frowns, “i do not know what time he's arriving, so i can’t humour you.”

you nod, “i don’t want to hold you back any longer then. have a good day, your majesty.”

it was obvious how much the title affected wonyoung, especially from you. when you had discovered her identity, it wasn’t easy for her to deal with that fact, thus you never called her by her proper title, choosing to stick to wonyoung or pet names.

she stood rooted to the ground as you left the dining room. what on earth were you playing at? the lack of curiosity when she had brought up conversation topics and your absence last night had made her question things. however, now she was certain something was wrong.

what made you change so quickly?

she decided firmly that no one would rest until her sweet and caring y/n returned to her side.

wonyoung was true to her word, always asking yujin and gaeul (her personal guards) to keep a close watch on you. they would bring back reports of you strolling in the garden, reading, but most of the time, you were holed up in your own office, probably dealing with some internal affairs. even during dinner you barely spoke. she brings a hand up to her forehead, thoroughly affected by your absence in her life. nothing had bothered her this much before.

groaning, she finally decides to pay you a visit. the piles of papers left undone. she was only going to take half an hour to visit you, maybe an hour to resolve the conflict you had. the decrees could wait. it wasn’t like she was getting much work done anyway.

“i’ll be back soon, just paying my lady a visit,” wonyoung informs her guards. yujin perks up, mouth agape, as if she wants to say something. wonyoung notices the heated exchange of gazes between the two but pay it no mind as she makes her way through the connected garden.

“your majesty! i think it would be better to not visit miss y/n now,” gaeul hurriedly says with yujin’s insistent nodding.

wonyoung grits her teeth.

“are you telling me what to do, gaeul?”

“i’m not saying this from a guard’s perspective but a friend’s,” she says, eyes darting to familiar curls of hair dancing in the garden, “you said that miss y/n was annoying you and now you’re upset that she isn’t paying you any attention? wait, isn’t that…”

“who allowed prince osaki to even be in the vicinity of y/n?” wonyoung brandishes a fiery gaze, jealous waves emitting off her as she struts towards you and your new acquaintance.

yujin and gaeul gulp, closely following behind wonyoung as she confronts the prince.

“good evening, prince osaki,” she hisses out, “why are you with y/n? aren’t you meant to be heading towards the meeting room now?” you eye wonyoung suspiciously. you didn’t know that the random young man who showed up in the garden was the prince wonyoung had mentioned! you’re shocked that he wasn’t even guarded by anyone.

“taro got lost, so i was guiding him,” you explain. looking at the reaction of wonyoung, your words only fuel the fire, ensuring the empress’ had a strong distaste for the young prince.

“taro,” wonyoung repeats. it repeats incessantly in her brain. she was demoted from wonyoung to her majesty and now some random prince shows up and he instantly gains your favour?

you nod, a blush rising to your cheeks when wonyoung stares at you intensely. shotaro bows politely, “my apologies, your majesty. i lost my way. this is an unfortunate way of meeting but i hope we can come to an agreement.”

your lover nods slowly, eyes raking all over you instead of shotaro. sensing that you were in trouble, you bow and quickly make your exit.

wonyoung sighs. she barely got a chance to speak to you and now she was definitely going to have to endure hours long of discussion. so much for talking to you.

(“why is she acting like this?” yujin asks gaeul.

“i mean, even if she finds miss y/n annoying—”

yujin groans, frustrated, “no, not her majesty! miss y/n! her behaviour changed so quickly, it’s like,” her eyes widen, “she heard her majesty’s conversation with us.”

gaeul blinks once. then twice. “her majesty is fucked.”)

after coming to an agreement with the prince, wonyoung was relieved of her duties. this time, there was no way you could run away from her. she had gaeul send you a message that you were to return to your shared bedroom tonight. she would head back to your bedroom early and finally have a proper discussion about your behaviour. wonyoung was hesitant to admit this but she missed you. she missed your constant appearances and visits to her office. she missed your incessant questioning about her day. she missed how much you would pay attention when she was talking. now, you barely even spared her a glance, choosing to pick at your food or stare out the window.

her knocks resounded on the door. a soft voice telling her to come in. she could do this. she wasn’t the empress for nothing.

“darling,” wonyoung greets. you nod at her, putting down the book you were reading.

“have you bathed yet?” she asks. once again, you respond by nodding. “okay, i’ll go bathe and join you in bed.”

she shouldn’t expect you to even reply verbally. it’s been so long since she had you whisper into her ear, confessing your affections. wonyoung slips into the tub, letting the warm water remind her of your embrace, one that she so dearly missed.

she should have felt happy that you weren’t visiting her so often. she should have felt happy that you didn’t bring sweet desserts to her office anymore. she should have felt happy that you stopped ranting about the newest duke who got exposed for cheating. but all she felt was emptiness. this was all her fault, you were only doing what she wanted.

her mind cleared of doubt, she finishes up quickly. you were sitting on the bed, reading the book you had previously put down. it's a reminiscence of the first time you had met wonyoung; in a quaint bookstore with rain pouring. now, you were in a four poster king-sized bed with gemstones and gold decorating the room. in some way, you missed your previous life. at least then wonyoung had paid some sort of attention to you.

the silence that was once filled with conversation is overwhelming. wonyoung takes a good look at you, noticing that you looked sullen, contrary to the cheerful persona you had before.

“y/n,” wonyoung starts. your eyes darted to her and suddenly, she forgets how to speak, “uhm, what were you doing with the prince?” your face falls but you mask it instantly, which wonyoung wouldn’t notice if she hadn’t spent hours constantly memorising every inch of you.

“just accompanying someone who was lost. i needed someone to talk to anyway,” you mutter. your response makes wonyoung heat up in anger. she had willingly offered a listening ear but you had denied her. was it so difficult for you to even talk to her about your worries? sure, you may be from different backgrounds but you should know that wonyoung would try her best to help.

“so i’m just the only person you can’t talk to?” wonyoung asks, unamused. you sigh, placing the book onto the nightstand. she takes this time to crawl into the empty spot next to you.

“that’s not it. i just… don’t want to be a bother to your majesty.”

her heart is suddenly wracked with guilt. your words remind her of that night, when she had confessed that you were annoying her. it was so familiar, and with your sudden behaviour…

“you heard me.”

you widen your eyes, turning away to hide the tears forming, “yes.”

“that’s the reason for your distance,” wonyoung confirms. you nod.

“i would have rathered you to tell me instead of letting me embarrass myself. i didn’t know you felt that way. i’m sorry for bothering you, your majesty,” you mumble, hands coming up to wipe the tears away. wonyoung only stares at you unwaveringly. it hurt her to see you like this, it hurt her more to know she was the reason behind your hidden pain. how could she behave in such a manner? she took your kindness for granted and hurt you.

“my darling,” wonyoung breathes, reaching out to turn your face towards her, “you shouldn’t be the one apologising. it should be me. i was just so focused with everything else that i forgot about the only thing that got me through this. it was wrong of me to ignore your actions of affection. please don’t hold back anymore, these few days without you were enough. it was torture. and don’t refer to me by my title, please.”

you sigh, “i don’t know, wonyoung. everytime i want to do something for you, i can only think about that night and how hurt i was.”

wonyoung swallows a lump in her throat as she feels her eyes brimming with tears. how could she make you feel as if you were annoying her? how could she say that about you? you were the best thing to happen to her and she didn’t even appreciate you. she had sworn that she would protect you for the rest of her life and it seemed the only thing harming you, was her.

“it’s fine,” it wasn’t for wonyoung, “i’ll give you all the time you need but let me make it up to you.”

“tell me you’re sorry,” you say firmly.

“i’m sorry.”

“tell me you regret saying those words.”

“i regret saying that you were bothering me. in no universe would you ever be a bother to me.”

“tell me that this will not ever happen again.”

“i would never do this ever again. not in this lifetime, nor the next. nothing you do would ever annoy me, because i truly love you. i missed you so much, my love. i swear that if i’m ever the reason for your tears again, i’ll beg for your forgiveness forever.”

you give another nonverbal response but the empress enjoyed this one much more than your blank stares and nods. she sighs contentedly, finally letting herself relax in your arms.

“i missed you too,” you utter in her ear, burying your head further into the crook of her neck. how long had it been since you embraced her? the flowery scent of her perfume seemed unfamiliar to you, yet it brought waves of delight that you finally had wonyoung again.

you would never admit it willingly but as soon as wonyoung’s arms were wrapped around your waist, cuddling you tightly as you both fell asleep, you were ready to forgive her.

it was the first of many nights where you didn’t have to receive the news of wonyoung not being able to spend time with you. it was the first of many nights that you didn’t dream of anything except a familiar empress with soft brown locks, full glossy lips and batting eyelashes.

it was the first of many mornings that you woke up to a bouquet of flowers on your nightstand, accompanied by a romantic handwritten letter.

to my darling y/n,

i have ordered the kitchen staff to not prepare breakfast for today as i will be attempting to do so for you. it will take some time for you to forgive me but i will be trying my best for your forgiveness. i hope you know how much i adore your visits and inquisitive nature. i cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you. i love you dearly.

forever yours,

wonyoung

#jang wonyoung x reader #wonyoung x reader #ive x reader #ive

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upsidedownwithsteve · 3 months

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A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [5.9K]

THE TIMELINE

"Oh no, you know you know I'd be lying if I said I wasn't dying, For someone I could die for, someone I could try for Fall apart and cry for, go 'head, risk my life for."

-Someone I Could Die For by Lewis Capaldi

II. ROME, ITALY: 49 BC

The roar that came from the bowels of the Colosseum never became easier to hear.

The noise seemed to make the city shake, the streets empty, the market stalls abandoned in favour of bloodshed. The games took place in the summer, when the skies were an endless blue and there were no clouds to tamper down the climbing heat. The sun bore down on the sandy pit of the enormous Amphitheatre and the seats were filled, the doors that had already been closed still surrounded by regretful stragglers who were forced to listen to the chaos from outside of the walls.

Fourteen men had died already, three from the jaws of the lions, two from the bears and eleven from the swords of other imprisoned slaves. The cheering from the crowd made your stomach curl. The floor of the stage was covered in red, the sand streaked with spilled blood and the animals that were bullied back into their cages had their jaws tinted pink.

It wasn’t a joyous occasion, no matter how many people celebrated in the name of their emperor. The leader of Rome was sitting mere seats away from you, dressed in ruby robes that were slung like a cloak over his white toga and his laurel crown glinted with golden beads that sat tucked into the olive wreaths. He was drunk on wine and violence, and your father sat next to him in the royal box, ever eager to please as he clinked his chalice against his kings.

Being the daughter of Rome’s most beloved senator certainly had its positives. You were dressed just as finely as the royalty around you, the fabric that was made to fit your frame swept to the floor and only yesterday, the emperor’s cousin had gifted you a necklace made of the finest gold, inset with glittering emeralds, pretty enough for a princess.

The same cousin smiled at you from across the row, each seat in the royal box made from plush velvet, the high backs ornate and cushioned, unlike the stone carved benches the rest of the civilians were sitting on. You smile back, uneasy but polite, and your father nodded approvingly.

You were expected to marry, you knew that much. You were already considered too old to be unwed and you knew the rest of the court whispered about how you would now struggle to bear a child. But the man that was expected to be your husband wasn��t who you loved. He wasn’t unkind, he wasn’t cruel - not like you’d heard men could be. The girls in the kitchen would tell you stories of how their husband made demands. Shouting each night for their meals, their baths, how their shirts weren’t stitched right, how their beds would lay cold because their wives were too tired.

Some men visited the bath houses, you knew that much. Seeking out a lupa for the night, the ladies that were called she-wolves, with their painted lips and robes that showed so much skin. Some men decided that they didn’t need to listen to their wives at all, you were once told, horror etched on your face. Some men took what they thought they owned.

So no, the emperor’s cousin seemed kind enough. But you weren’t in love with him. You weren’t sure who you were in love with. A dream, perhaps. One that kept returning to you from a young, young age. A dream about a different town, one you’d never been to before. But in your sleep, it felt like home. White buildings and green gardens with tall, tall trees and pretty, ornate gazebos made of stone on the edges of shallow ponds. You were by the sea there, a blue-green ocean that seemed so calm.

Sometimes monsters came, the marble statues that guarded the city came to life and turned your dream into a nightmare. There was always fire and fury, storm clouds and too big waves and a man with skin the colour of death would try and take your hand. But even when the dream turned bad, there was always someone else.

A man, with a blurry face and a mess of almost too long hair. It hid his eyes from you and you could never make out too many details but you burned when you looked at him, you could weep when he touched you. Sometimes he led you through the burning town, his hand clasping your own as you both tried to run and run and run.

Other times, you lay in a bed with him, skin bare and your head on his chest as he murmured the sweetest poetry to you, words that made your heart race. Your dream was encased in white linen sheets, a hazy, soft light that always made it look like early morning and when the man’s lips met yours, you always woke up.

Him. You loved him.

You hadn’t been in love before, but whenever you dreamed of the stranger, you were sure that must have been what love felt like.

“Have some grapes, darling,” your thoughts were interrupted by your father as he thrust a plate of fruit and cheese under your nose.

But the fifteenth gladiator was being dragged through the gates by the armpits, a clawed hammer still sticking out from his chest and your insides turned over at the idea of eating such sweet treats as blood poured from the men in front of you. The emperor’s box was almost nauseatingly close to the fights.

You shook your head before you remembered your manners, smiling politely and murmuring, “I’m quite alright, thank you.” You blew out a breath, shaky and faint.

From your other side, one of the young girls who had been gifted to you on your sixteenth birthday waved a giant fan. A large peacock feather, a huge plume of colours that merely wafted the too warm air back and forth but you smiled your thanks at your lady in waiting, a pretty girl who’d turned into a prettier young woman. She was small and lithe, angular in the face with curls that came to her sharp jawbone and she smiled back.

Nancy, as she’d introduced herself to you a week after she’d arrived at your fathers house, from the Wheeler family of Liguria. She didn’t like the gladiator fights anymore than you did, always murmuring about the rights of the animals and how inhumane it was later in the night as she drew you your bath.

“—from Verona,” your father was saying with a mouth full of provolone. “One of their best, so they say, His Majesty simply had to have him.”

You blinked, frowning in confusion at your fathers words. You hadn’t been paying attention in the slightest and nothing you’d caught made any sense. “Sorry?” You grimaced apologetically and took a few pomegranate seeds from the plate of food in apology for your rudeness. “Who is from Verona?”

Your father rolled his eyes, a sure sign that you’d be lectured in his study later for your lack of respect. “The next gladiator, child.” He gestured to the stage where the soldiers were locking the gates to the tigers, each big cat growling with menace when the men came too close to the bars. “They say he’s unbeatable. Our Highness offered a more than generous helping of coin for his papers but Verona’s general didn’t seem to want to part with him.”

You frowned again. The crowd seemed to be aware of this man and his presence, murmuring and shifting in their seats in anticipation. “If that is the case,” you prodded. “Then how is he here? If the gladiators… owner—” the word left a terribly bitter taste in your mouth and you felt heavy with guilt when Nancy’s fan brushed your shoulder. “If his owner didn’t want to sell him?”

Your father snorted, an unattractive sound that made Nancy wince beside you. “No one tells the emperor of Rome ‘no’, dearest.” Your father shrugged. “The gladiator cannot be owned, if his owner is dead.”

Bloodshed. Always bloodshed.

A man came from the east side gates with chains around his ankles and wrists. You couldn’t quite see him for your seat, not yet, but the crowd above and around you roared, eager for the final fight to begin. The man already looked beaten and tired as soldiers stepped forward to unlock his manacles and you sat forward in your seat for the first time since you entered the Colosseum that day.

He had messy hair, dark brown and hanging just past his chin. It was already damp looking, matted and dirty from being kept god knows where as the emperor's new toy. He was shirtless, his body lean but corded with muscle. He had wide shoulders and a lithe waist, powerful thighs and skin that was tanned from the sun, a sure sign he spent too much time outside, training hard in the Italian heat.

As he moved closer to the middle of the stage, you saw the marks on his body, leftover scars and new slices in his flesh that still looked viciously red. The crowd got louder as a sword was thrown at his feet, a large, heavy looking thing with a bronze handle. Some cheered for the new warrior, hoping for some excitement, while others jeered and booed, already too attached to their darling reigning champion.

The gladiator picked up his sword and the crowd became wilder still, but he gave them no mind. He didn’t put on a show like some of the others, he didn’t flex his muscles or raise his weapon like it was already a prize. His leather loincloth was a deep wine colour, the tan leather pleats looking far from newly made and the material was already streaked with blood and dirt before his first opponent arrived.

Your heart felt heavy for him, as it did for all the others who were forced into the Colosseum - prisoners, slaves and animals alike. You watched the gladiator flex his wrist, testing the weight of his weapon just as the gates in the west cranked open.

Rome’s current champion strode out from the shadows and into the bright sun, his bare chest glinting with sweat and Hargrove held his hands aloft, grinning as the crowds went insane. He beat his chest, his long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and when he was handed his own sword, he wasted no time in running towards the new fighter, the steel blade glinting.

You gasped, moving closer still to the edge of your seat and you couldn’t find it in you to bear much mind to the looks your father and Nancy shot you. It wasn’t like you to take such an interest in the sport, never mind be so heavily invested. You didn’t like to watch the wounded, preferring to close your eyes when the screams began, hiding cowardly behind Nancy’s fan when the blood turned the sandy stage pink and red.

But this new gladiator, he was fast.

He dove at the last second, dodging the tip of Hargrove’s blade and he rolled towards the section where you sat. Dust kicked up from the move, his sword tearing into the wreaths and sashes that hung from the Emperor’s box. You grasped the edge of the wooden frame, peering over the side and down to the stage, hoping to not see blood already.

Instead you found the gladiator looking back up at you, his sword still in his grasp and when his eyes met yours, they widened. Something like recognition hurtled through you, a feeling that sucked the breath from your lungs and you felt dizzy, like lightning itself had struck you from the sky. You thought the man perhaps felt the same, a frown on his face telling you that he felt just as confused as you did.

But before you could consider where on earth you could have possibly seen his face before, Hargrove attacked again, bringing his blade down to where the gladiator's shoulder should have been, if he hadn’t rolled once again.

You were on your feet now, the stares of your father be damned. Your eyes were wide, your heart beating far too fast, like you yourself were on the stage, being hunted for sport. Wood splintered into the space under your nails as you watched the man run, his muscles pumping, his eyes narrowed.

“Darling, are you quite alright?” Your father placed a hand on your arm, more confused than concerned.

“Yes, I just— yes.” You cleared your throat and sat down again, albeit back to the edge of your chair. You could feel the rest of the royal party staring at you. “Where did you say the man was brought from? The new gladiator?”

“Harrington?” One of the Emperor’s councilmen interjected. He pointed a pudgy finger at the brown haired gladiator, who was now swinging his sword with as much power as Hargrove. “Steven Harrington of Verona, best of his breed I heard. His general didn’t take too kindly to the King’s offering and well— you know what happens when his Highness is made to feel upset.”

The metallic clink of the swords filled the arena as everyone held their breaths. Not many had lasted this long against Hargrove before.

“Rumour has it that he didn’t take too kindly to his general being beheaded. Took six men to get him into the back of the cart, even more to make him train. He’s been refusing food all week.”

The idea of it made you feel unwell, a sickly, creeping kind of pain curling around each of your ribs and suddenly you were starving, just as much as you were sure the man would be. But still, I didn’t seem to make him move any slower, it didn’t hinder him in bringing his sword down any harder.

But strangely, every time the new gladiator was struck, every time his knees hit the raw sand, every time he got close enough for you to see him suck in a gasping breath— you felt it too.

It was a battle like you’d never seen before, more vicious than the others from that day, a showdown under the blazing heat of the high sun. No tiger seemed as powerful as Steven Harrington of Verona did. There was something animalistic in the way he moved, all power and lean muscle, a steely glint in his brown eyes that you didn’t dare look away from. He moved too quickly for Hargrove’s blade, dodging and diving as he flung up sand, blinding his opponent and slicing at his legs. Each move was a blur, the stage bleeding with fresh red, the blonde gladiator on his knees.

But Hargrove was ruthless, grappling with the newcomer until they were both wrestling in the dust cloud and the crowd went insane, people chanted and stomped their feet, the amphitheatre shaking down to its very bones. The imperial box quaked with the energy, but truly, you weren’t present enough to feel it.

Your eyes never left Steven’s fighting figure.

The swords seemed to be forgotten, the steel blades rusted with blood, both fresh and new, and they lay in the sand. Fists flew, knees pressed to chests to keep the other down and it was brutal, it was harsh, it was deadly.

You wanted to vomit. You feared you might.

You wondered what would happen if you leapt from your chair, if you let your skirts get torn and bloodied in the mess of the stage, if you threw yourself down onto the sand and begged for Hargrove to take his hands away from the new gladiator's throat.

Would you be punished? Beaten? Locked away? Killed?

You weren’t sure but somehow, all the options felt worth it. You couldn’t watch this man die before you. Not when it felt like you’d already witnessed his death before.

But Steven wrestled himself out of Hargrove’s hold, twisting and tumbling whilst he gasped, one hand clutching at his reddened neck and the other grappling for his blade. He swung it through the air, arching wide, his wounded shoulder ripping with effort it took but the sword landed where the warrior intended it to.

Silence settled over the colosseum, the air still enough for you to hear the surviving champion heave out gasping, heavy breaths. There was blood on his hands, his chest, his face.

His right eye was already bruising, red and lilac coming to the surface of his skin like fresh blooms in spring. His shoulder was a mess, his right leg causing him to buckle slightly as he rose to his feet.

The man turned, jaw slack, his sword falling limply to the ground once more, his opponent still and at his feet. His eyes found yours and time stilled, at least, to you. The crowd erupted, an explosion in its own right, the entirety of Rome cheering for their new champion.

A man you were sure you already loved.

By the time the fight had ended, you felt beaten and bruised. There were no marks on your skin, no blood seeping through your gown, but something inside of you hurt all the same. It felt like something was clawing at your heart, a memory that was banging on the front of your skull, screaming at you to remember.

When the guards dragged the gladiator from Hargrove’s limp figure, he dropped his sword to the sand and spat a mouthful of blood towards the ground at the royal pit. The Emperor merely chuckled as others around you gasped and before you could even hear your fathers protests, you were on your feet.

Steven Harrington was shackled once more, the metal chains clinking around his hands and feet. And as he was led away back into the arches, the gears of gates making an awful protesting noise, his eyes found yours once more.

A burning gaze, too intense to look away from and you could’ve sworn on the gods, on the stars above, that something inside of you tugged sharply. Like the pull of a string, tied in a bow between your ribcage, urging you forward.

Telling you to go.

So you did.

You gathered your skirts in your hands and made your way to the exit of the box, too focused to hear your fathers objections until the guards at the doorway halted you with their spears. The wooden stalks crossed themselves over your chest and you froze, the string tied to your heart pulling tighter and tighter and tighter—

The Emperor was staring at you, with cold eyes and a smile that wasn’t really a smile. He spoke to your father, not you. “Where, my dear senator, is your lovely daughter running off to?” The king turned back to you, brows raised. “Doesn’t she know that more wine will be served soon? My cousin is looking forward to her company.”

Your father stared at you, a stricken expression on his aged face because everyone in the royal box could read between the lines of the Emperor.

You cleared your throat, eyes still trained on the sharp metal points of the spears that were very much in your face. “Forgive me, father - your highness - I was merely hoping to get some fresh air.”

“The sight of all that blood makes her rather delicate,” your father agreed and the crowd of councilmen, generals and their wives tittered in their jewels. “She isn’t one for conflict.”

The Emperor stared at the side of your face, something you could feel despite bowing your head in his presence. You stared at the floor and waited, heart racing.

The royal tsked. “What a pity,” he declared but he waved a hand, each finger heavy with golden rings, and his soldiers stepped aside. “Be back in time for the parade, child, you have company to entertain.”

The Emperor’s cousin leered at you, his wine glass empty, his lips stained ruby but none of it mattered right now, not when you were taking off once more, skirts dragging across the dust and sand, your chest heaving as you tried to navigate your way through the crowd that was already dispersing.

More guards, heavily armoured and with their swords drawn, were too preoccupied with a fight that had broken out between the arches, two lower class men arguing over a coin they found on the ground. Taking your chance, you moved with your head down, your face hidden as you slipped through a door that was normally carefully watched.

The heavy wood slammed shut behind you, the sunlight swallowed whole. Burning torches lit the narrow corridor, a maze of them leading you underneath the Colosseum. The hypogeum was almost damp as you tried to navigate its many walkways, a gasp leaving your throat as you took a wrong turn and ended up face to face with the iron bars that separated you from the animals.

A huge tiger growled at you, bloodied teeth bared in a snarl, the stench of raw meat and faeces hanging in the cool air. You backed away, eyes flickering from cage to cage, each one filled with another poor creature. Lions, bears, a rhinoceros and its offspring, and beyond them, an even larger cell holding prisoners. They all stared at you, men and animals alike, but nothing was spoken.

You backed away, unable to breath, turning on your heel and walking quickly enough to spot the familiar grey robes of the healers used after the battles. You followed, your steps light, and watched him enter a small room. Between the door opening and closing, you spotted the gladiator perched on a wooden table, his head bent low and his face hidden behind his damp hair.

You weren’t sure what possessed you, but before you barged into the room too, both men staring at you from the table where the healer held a ragged cloth to the gladiator’s shoulder.

“Miss, you have no need here,” the healer announced, his voice strict and cold. He narrowed his eyes as he gestured to the door. “This is no place for—”

“My father sent me.” It was a lie, of course. A bold and bare faced one at that. But you stood a little taller and lifted your chin, the emerald necklace at your throat shining in the low light that came from the small fireplace in the corner. “The senate has questions I’ve been asked to deliver. I shall not leave without the appropriate answers.”

On the mantle, beside bottles of acids and other medicinal vials, sat a small statue of the goddess Veratis. Her marble eyes seemed to judge you and your lies and you swallowed down the bitter taste it left on your tongue. But looking at the man - this stranger from Verona - the need to speak to him, to be alone with him, was overwhelming you to the point of senselessness.

The trouble you could be in if you were to be caught in your lie… or worse, down in the hypogeum. This was no place for a woman of your standing, never mind to be alone with a gladiator, both of you unspoken for. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat.

“If we may have some time alone?” You added with more authority than you should have held. “Unless you’d prefer that my father leave the Emperor’s side to ensure his orders are fulfilled?”

The healer sighed but placed down his tools. He flashed you a smile that was all crooked teeth, more bite than kindness, but he made his way to the door. “That won’t be necessary, My Lady,” he told you and he left, closing the wooden door behind him.

The silence was a deafening thing. The crackle of the fire was still there, the distant roar of some poor, wounded animal, but whatever was held between the two of you took on a life of its own. It seemed to suck the rest of the world into it until there was nothing left but you and this man. He was staring at you still, brown eyes wide and so familiar, looking as confused as you felt as you stared right back.

It felt too easy to take a step forward, but the warrior flinched. Your next was slower, softer, more cautious. Your hand found the rag that the healer had once held, what little water it had been soaked in was cold, the material harsh. It didn’t take you long to find a new cloth in one of the drawers of the apothecary table and you took your time to warm some fresh water over the hearth.

Honestly, you didn’t know too much about medicine, only the basics that your father’s head servant had taught you as a young child. You found the small bottle of alcohol with ease, plucking it from the shelf and adding it to the warm water before soaking the new rag.

You held it up in offering to the man, still far enough from you that his dirty hair hid most of his face. His tanned chest was streaked with sweat and dust, marred with old cuts and fresher wounds from Hargrove’s weapon, but for the most part, he seemed okay.

“Can I?”

The gladiator lifted his head then, his hair falling away from his cheeks and you took in a sharp breath at the sight of his face. He was handsome, painstakingly so, but over and above all else, he was someone you were sure you knew.

The man nodded, just once, lips pressed together and as you came closer, his nostrils flared and his large hands gripped the edge of the table. His eyes raced across your features, recognition coming to the surface and before he could ask the questions that were clawing at his throat, you lifted the cloth and pressed it to the cut on his shoulder.

He hissed, teeth bared and you frowned, hushing him softly, apologies murmured just as quiet. “I’m sorry,” you told him and gods, he knew you meant it. “I need the alcohol to soak the wound.”

Your heart stuttered when he let you, shoulders tight and back ramrod straight, but his eyes were on your face the entire time you worked. “You’re not a healer,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

His voice rung through you, a deep timber that was hoarse and scratchy, no doubt from refusing to speak since his capture. You hoped he’d been drinking enough water.

You shook your head as you pulled away, dipping the bloodied cloth back into the bucket. “No, I’m not,” you confirmed.

Another swipe at his skin had him jerking in response but the blood and dirt was finally clear of the cut. It would need stitches, you were almost sure of it, but your skills started and finished at the basics.

“Then why are you here?” The gladiator’s eyes were trained on your necklace, a sure fire way to recognise nobility and you were overcome with the urge to rip it from your throat. “Why did you follow me?” He spoke like he already knew the answer.

You were hesitant about it, but you couldn’t stop your hand from lifting to his neck, fingertips brushing two beauty marks on his skin. They felt electric under your touch and you were impossibly warmer now, despite the old cell lacking the heat from the summer above.

“I feel like I know you,” you whispered. Your voice cracked with an emotion you didn’t quite know the name of. “I feel like I’ve mourned you.”

The gladiator looked back at you from behind his damp hair, the long strands matted with his and his enemies blood. He didn’t look as concerned as he should have been at your strange words. In fact, he leaned into your touch, lashes fluttering at the sensation.

“What an odd thing to say to someone who hasn’t died,” he answered quietly. But his gaze roamed over your features and something about being so close to him felt cosmic, it felt like a catastrophe waiting to happen. “I think I’ve met you before,” the gladiator whispered. He sounded reverent now, his own hand shaking as he brought it to your face.

He cupped your jaw, your chin, his rough fingertips trailing over your soft skin and when his thumb dragged across your bottom lip, you gasped and pressed closer.

“I think I meet you when I sleep,” he said and he frowned at his own words, at how confusing he must’ve sounded. “Every night, when I close my eyes. You’re in a garden and then you’re in my arms.”

Flashes of a bed came to mind, white linen sheets and too much bare skin. A man’s chest, tanned and muscled from hard labour, your hands that roamed the expanse of his back. You remembered how he kissed you in your dreams, with a longing so intense it could waken the gods.

Like he had enough love for you that he could end the world.

You could only nod. His thumb was still pushed to your bottom lip, your mouth parted as if you were waiting and his stare was so intense you felt warmer than you had in the stadium above.

Who was this stranger?

And why did it feel like something inside of you was being stitched back together by the sheer sight of him? His touch felt healing, it felt like home. Like it was only made for you to feel. Like he was made only for you.

Above, something boomed. Loud enough to be heard underneath the hypogeum, over the roars of the unsettled animals. If you had been outside, you would’ve witnessed the blue sky turning grey, shades of moody lavender and navy, storm clouds rolling across Rome from seemingly nowhere.

Thunder rumbled, threatening noise, something that made you and the man move closer to each other, like you both knew you were in danger.

That you knew something bad was coming.

“I don’t understand,” you said, eyes blurring. You weren’t sure why you were crying but Steve didn’t seem to question it. He merely swiped away the tears that slipped down your cheeks. “You’re a stranger— we’ve never— we’ve never met.”

Despite your words, the gladiator moved closer, standing from his seat on the wooden table to lean his forehead against your own. Your eyes slipped closed, nose bumping his. He smelled like metal, like blood and dirt and sweat but underneath there was something like fire there, like molten iron, like lavender fields and fresh cotton. Like a daydream, like something you weren’t sure was real.

His bottom lip touched your top one, only just, only barely. A whisper of a kiss, a small insight of something that could’ve been, of something that maybe once was.

Thunder rolled again, louder than before, as if it was right above you both. Even over the din of the crowds above, you could hear the heavy patter of rain that was now flooding the colosseum, the stage soaked. Another warning, something you’d seen before in a dream just before it turned to a nightmare.

“I was meant to find you,” Steve murmured. He had your face cradled in his hands, an overwhelmingly gentle touch despite the dried blood under his fingernails. His voice grew in urgency then, like he knew something was coming. Someone. “I was meant to come here. I can feel it. I understand now.”

“Someone once told me you’d come back,” you suddenly remembered, your voice eager, your eyes wide at the memory. “I don’t know— was it you? From before? From—”

From another life, you wanted to say.

How ridiculous those words were, how silly, how stupid. But there wasn’t any other way to explain. Logic didn’t seem to exist when everything you felt from this touch of this stranger led you to believe that somehow, someway, you’d spend a lifetime together.

Like you were supposed to spend this one with him too. And it didn’t seem long enough, decades wouldn’t make up for the time you’d lost searching for him, for this stranger who only came to you in your sleep. But he was very real now, solid flesh and bone underneath your own hands, brown eyes that seemed warmer than the Italian summer.

You didn’t want to let him go.

“In here, my King,” a voice interrupted. The door was open and the healer had returned, a cold look on his already stern face. The Emperor was behind him, ruby robes collecting dirt from the old floor. Four soldiers flanked him. “I have every reason to believe the Lady sold me lies, Your Highness.”

It happened too quick. Too fast.

The Emperor studied you, Steve’s hands still on your face as you stood too close, ready to kiss, ready to fulfil something neither of you were sure of. It felt catalytic.

“Seize him,” was all the Emperor said, one lazy flick of his wrist sending all four guards at you both.

There was too much movement in the tiny room, bottles of medicinal wares clattering to the ground and smashing at your feet. The table groaned as Steve was shoved into it, his own reactions too slow from his injuries. He grunted and reached for you too late, his hand slipping from your own, fingers barely touching, as he was shoved at from either side.

One soldier shoved the butt of his sword into Steve’s wounded soldier, the other bringing his armoured knee into his bare stomach. The gladiator doubled over, a gasp leaving his chest before he fell to his knees on the stone floor.

“Stop this!” You yelled, urging forward, trying your best to throw yourself into the mix of it all but someone’s arms - another soldier - caught your round the middle. “Unhand him! Your Highness - please - he hasn’t done any wrong, please—”

The Emperor just looked at you blankly before he picked at the jewels around your neck. He tutted, as if it were a shame, a waste. You could hear the shackles being placed back on the man, the low groan he gave as the metal was tightened around his sore wrists.

“He won,” you whispered, your voice low and choked. You were ready to beg. “Please, he won. He doesn’t deserve this—”

“I don’t like anyone else playing with my toys,” the Emperor interrupted. He said it like he was discussing what to have for lunch. “And my dear cousin doesn’t like anyone playing with his.” He motioned to the guards once more. “Take her back to her seat, where you make sure she stays. This isn’t any place for a Lady,” he told you mournfully.

You didn’t get to see what happened to the gladiator as you were escorted out of the room. But you did hear his yells when the door slammed shut, the dull thuds of impact that you were sure were on his already bruised and broken body. You hadn’t even told him your name, or that you dreamt of him too. That during your worst night terrors, he was the one that saved you.

When you reached the imperial box once more, your skirts dirtied from the sand, your face tear stricken, you felt broken. Like you’d been snapped in half, like someone had found that wound Steve had stitched up and pulled it apart again the seams. Like someone had ripped something important from you, half of your heart, perhaps.

You didn’t even notice that it had stopped raining. The skies were blue once more, the sun shining, the only evidence of the sudden storm were the drops of rain that had soaked into the pillow on your chair.

Steve was gone and the thunder was too.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot

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cassie48 · 3 months

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• 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺 ∙

Dark!Paul atreides x fem pregnant reader

Pt 3

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

The day after Paul had made his motivational speech to the Fremen about turning Arrakis into dune again, you two were in your shared room at night.

You sat at your little vanity, brushing through your hair, preparing yourself for bed. You saw Paul go over his plans at his desk, standing above it all.

You couldn’t stop worrying about what would happen tomorrow. What if Paul got hurt? What if something bad happened and you were left all alone? It’s all suddenly became too much for you, as you began to cry, dropping the brush in your hand.

Paul’s head shot up, very shocked at your sudden crying. He quickly left his desk. “My love?” He asked as he walked over to you.

You held your hands out to him, hiccuping and crying as you did. God, you have been so emotional these last few months.

He finally reached you, he picked you up, and sat you on his lap, trying his best to calm you down.

“I’m sorry paul. I’m just so worried about what’s gonna happen tomorrow. What happens if something bad happened to you, and I’d be left all alone!” You said suddenly crying even heavier.

Paul wiped away your falling tears, hugging you close to him. “Sweetheart, nothing will happen. I’d never dream on leaving you. Your seven months pregnant with my child. I’d 𝗡𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 leave you alone” he snarled, hating the image of it.

You nodded into his chest, slightly calming down. He toyed with your hair, running his hands through it. “Your just tired, you’ll feel better in the morning” he told you, placing his hand on your big bump, which was covered by a night dress.

“Ok” you whispered, your eyes becoming heavy as you drifted off to sleep in his lap. He smirked at you. The pregnancy had really taken a toll on your body. You were constantly crying, extremely needy and most of all, falling asleep almost anywhere. But 𝗚𝗼𝗱 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱. He loved how you had to rely on him. This child will definitely have siblings.

He carefully picked you up, bring you over to your shared bed, placing you under the covers delicately. Smiling down at you and giving you one last kiss to the forehead, before going to check his palms once more.

The following day was eventful to day the least. You had went with Paul as he checked with Chani and Stilgar to make sure they were ready. As soon as the battles were to begin, he brought you into a hidden room, with five Fremen warriors.

“Are you alright?” He asked cupping your cheek gently.

You nodded “promise you’ll come back to me?” With a pout.

“Promise” is all he said before pulling you into a passionate kiss, eventually pulling away when he remembered he had to fight a battle.

He turned to the Fremen who were to protect you “if any of you let any harm come her way, I will slit all of your throats” he said giving them a look of rage and disgust.

You shared one last smile with him before he left. You hadn’t heard anything till ten minutes later, you heard Paul yell “long live the fighters” in the Fremen language.

After that many bombs and guns were firing, you were hoping none were at Paul. Your heart was racing as you sat there for over an hour 𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹𝘆.

Eventually, after what felt like centuries, you heard running in the hall outside your room. You prayed it wasn’t a harkonnen, god only knows what they’d do to you.

“Y/N!” You heard Paul yell from outside.

You quickly jumped up and walked as fast as you could to meet him. When you did he pulled you into a tight hug, before kissing you passionately, kissing all down your neck and face. The Fremen behind you looked away in fear.

“We’ve done it! We’ve won, but I need to challenge the emperor for the throne” he said kissing your cheek.

You nodded as he guided you to a meeting room where all the Fremen had been since the battle. You cling onto Paul, as people whizzed past you left right and centre.

Chani had came up to hug you, telling you she was glad you were alright. You hugged her back, telling her the same.

Paul took you back into his arms, you two resting your heads on each others, savouring the moment.

“You know I’ll always love you, for as long as I live and even in death. I need to challenge the emperors throne, but I need you at my side to rule, can you do that?” He asked both hands on your waist.

“Of course Paul. Wherever you are, I will be” you told him, pecking him on the lips slightly, making him smile.

After a moment Paul turned to the Fremen, yelling “bring my prisoners”.

Only a moment later, you saw feud-rautha, the emperor and his daughter, and the Reverend mother who had taught lady Jessica come in.

Paul explained that he wanted to claim the throne as his. All of them seemed shocked at his decision. The reverend mother was not happy with him at all.

“Consider what your about to do Paul atreides”she began

“Silence!” Paul yelled using the voice on her.

Feyd ruatha and Paul had to battle, in order for him to claim the throne. Paul walked over to you grabbing the knife from beside you and quickly kissing your cheek, telling you it would be ok.

He stood in front of Feyd ruatha, putting the knife against his heart and head saying “may thy knife chip and shatter.

Feyd Ruatha only smiled in response before repeating “ may 𝗧𝗵𝘆 knife chip and shatter” before launching at Paul.

The two battles for what felt like hours, you heart going 200 bpm. After a minute Paul had been stabbed just under the top of his arm. He began breathing heavy, but he remained to be ok. This triggered your silent crying.

Feyd Ruatha noticed this before saying

“Is this your little wife? Perhaps I’ll take her as mine when I kill you, and I’ll kill that child inside her.” He said with disgust.

This set off Paul as he lunged forward stabbing him in the heart. Your breathed a sigh of relief.

“No one, talks about her that way.” he said before yanking the knife out of his now dead body.

A moment later Paul walked up to the emperor and his daughter.

The emperor smiled nervously “take my daughters hand you two can rule the empire” with a sly look towards you.

Your heart caught in your throat, but Paul quickly made your worries vanish with his quick reply.

“How dare you disrespect her like that. Only the woman bearing my son, will sit my side” he said before telling the Fremen to lock the away again, and that he’d kill them later.

The room erupted in cheers, Paul had done it. He was actually now emperor.

He walked up to you, blood smeared on his face as he took your face in his hands, kissing you deeply. You moaned into the kiss, hugging his body against yours.

“I was scared you’d accept the offer” you teased with a pout.

“I will only ever love you” he said laying his hand on your pregnant belly, kissing you once more.

𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

I think this will be the end of this little series and I hope you all enjoyed!!

#dune part two #paul atredies x reader #paul atreides x reader yandere #paul atreides #chani #fanfiction #dune movie #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #smut

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javelinbk · 10 months

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Here it is, Beatle People! The official 'Insane Things Paul Has Said About John' list, as created by the people of tumblr. I hope this is a useful supplement to the original McLennon iceberg

Sources under the cut:

“He was a very cool boy” (@javelinbk)

"Whenever other people do that it always reminds me of John" (@javelinbk)

"We put our names next to each other in our school exercise books" (@beatlepaul4ever)

When was Lennon at his best? "When he was asleep." (@didwemeetsomewherebefore)

"A delicious broth of a boy" (@zilabee)

"A lovely little baby, John was" (@mallowedheart)

"Daddy's room" (@pauls1967moustache)

"We’re songwriting together even if we’re not together" (@midchelle)

"John seemed like some sort of emperor in control of it all" (@blondecasino)

"I'm trying to get my son to have a son and call him Lennon, and then he'll be Lennon McCartney" (@peaceloveandstarrs)

“John and I had millions of fabulous little experiences in Paris” (@divine-sphinx)

"We used to have wanking sessions" (@merseydreams)

"You can be heterosexual and be having a homosexual dream and wake up, and think, 'Shit, am I gay?'" (@skylikeaflame)

"It was a place called Menlove Avenue. [Pauses] Someone's going to read significance into that: Paul and John on Menlove Avenue. Come onnnnnnn" (@s-l-martin)

"I slept with him a million times" (@s-l-martin)

"A wild and woolly genius who it was my pleasure to work with, walk with, talk with, and occasionally sleep with." (@didwemeetsomewherebefore)

"In bed" (@i-am-the-oyster)

"Well, I’m sure Brian was in love with John, I’m sure that’s absolutely right. I mean, everyone was in love with John; John was lovable, John was a very lovable guy." (@whenyourbirdisbroken)

"Dear friend, throw the wine, I’m in love with a friend of mine." (@heartsinthebasement)

"We got very drunk and cried about how we loved each other" (@nikidontsurf)

“Then also we were like married, so you got the bitterness. It’s not a woman scorned this time, it’s two men scorned — probably even worse. And I had to make way for Yoko. My relationship with John could not have remained as it was and Yoko feel secure.” (@thefortunateisle)

"If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and…" (@alienoriana, @majinmelmo)

"You just don’t hang around with your ex-wife" (@javelinbk)

"No, I have a lot of dreams about John, and they're always good" (@notgrungybitchin, @skylikeaflame)

"This (painting) is John’s Room. It just looked to me like John, when he had his long hair and then his cloak or whatever this is. Then I just scratched in that, looked like one of those drawings John used to do. You know his funny little men. So then I called that John’s room … If I’m gonna see a face in a painting it’s highly likely to be his." (@foryouwereinmysong)

"I wish I had sat and just hugged John all the time when we were together.’ (…) I’d just sit around and hug him forever. That’s the depth of my feeling for him" (@theoldmixer)

“Here Today - a love song to John” (@javelinbk, @bluewater9)

"So if you've got someone, you want to tell them you love them, just get it said, don't wait" (@lennon-gal)

And honourable mention for the following stories:

Stalking John all over Liverpool until Ivan officially got them introduced (@only-a-northern-soul)

‘He’s been telling himself and the whole world that nobody cared about writing songs and his music before he met John. He knew George Harrison.’ (@greatsaladavenue)

Quitting his job to commit to the band aka explicitly picking John over his father (@adriansfrombrooklyn)

Writing "Here, There, and Everywhere" by John's pool while waiting for him to wake up and write with him alone in his attic (@aint-that-kind-of-blog-bruv)

Taking the one photo of him and john from that night with the cursed pictures with jane and then blowing it up and hanging it in his office at apple (@pauls1967moustache)

Taking LSD so he could join John in his potentially bad trip (@scurator)

The time he vaulted over a table because another man was touching John and Paul had to physically intervene (@scurator)

#kind of heartbreaking seeing them all in one place #but also insane #some of these are even more insane in full context so I suggest you read the full quotes for maximum impact #paul mccartney #john lennon #john and paul #mclennon #insane quotes

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velvetti · 4 months

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You are my liberty

T/W: Imply human trafficking, alcohol abuse, mlm relationship, no direct mention of consent, minors/fem aligned DNI, angst/comfort + smut.

To him, you were a fever dream, a beautiful white rose blooming under the moonlight in a garden of wilting wild flowers, a cold gust of wind in the middle of a hot summer night. You make him wonder if you ever existed at all, or if it's just another hallucination he had during his dark times, when he was struggling to live day by day.

The memories of your first encounter had long engraved itself into his soul. It was a snowy day, right in the middle of September just a few decades ago when he was a child. Forced to watch as the pedestrians walk by him, ignore him, trample him while he slowly dies from hunger and cold inside a dark alleyway, he calls that moment one of the luckiest in his miserable life.

Because, it's when you laid your eyes on him for the first time. He wished he could've travelled back in time and embraced you right then and there instead of halting for a moment like an idiot, but he couldn't blame his past self, you are the most beautiful person he has ever witnessed. Can you blame him for smiling stupidly like a puppy when you offered him a loaf of bread?

He really did love you at first sight, if not love, then what could explain his emotions whenever he talks to you?

His dreams were brutally cut off by the sound of his glass of whisky falling from his work desk. This was the third time that he fell asleep while doing paperwork, by the emperor's words, "A commander shall not halt the empire's progress with his personal troubles", thus, here he is, forced to finish his paperwork while being depressed.

He struggles with paperwork every single day after your disappearance, saying that he was worried was an understatement, the world didn't even have colours when you left. He refused to even go into any taverns during his day off as a commander, just because whenever he looked at the wall, he might be greeted with a missing poster with your face on it, smiling as beautifully as he first remembered you.

He wouldn't call you his soulmate, soulmates can live a life without each other, while without you, he just wants to drown himself in liquor so he could continue seeing you in his dreams. He needed you to live, not just exist.

It didn't take him that long to find a lead about you, after all, everything can be purchased by money. Just a few hundred gold coins and he had already managed to find out where you are. To his surprise, you were kidnapped and are going to be auctioned off soon.

So, he simply killed off the owner of the auction house and stole you before anyone else could even think of getting their pesky hands on your body :)

The bastard had the audacity to lock you in a cage, you even felt skinnier than the last time he hugged you! He should've made the death slower, but he was too excited to see you again. He quickly wrapped his cape around your body and hugged you tightly, at least you're back in his arms again.

;

Fearing that you'll find a way to leave him again, he has decided, why not make you his little husband? It's too cruel to lock you up physically and he doesn't want you to be depressed, you won't be able to get away when you're legally bound to him anyways.

So, without much of a thought, he literally begged you to marry him, hugging your waist while whining to your already flustered self, it took him days if not weeks just to convince you, but in the end, he managed and almost pinned you down and did you right then and there. But he held back, he wanted to wait for you guys' honeymoon, for you to have a proper wedding instead of acting by his own desires, he might've been a cruel person but he's not an asshole.

;

How many times was this already?

Counting just today, a total of three times. He had made love with you three times in a single day during your 2 weeks long honeymoon, and this is just the first day.

The first time was quite- no, very long. At first, he was very gentle, he didn't tore off your white suit the moment you both got on the bed, instead he went slow and made sure to prepare you thoroughly. He promptly fucked you in a mating press position right after you have adjusted though, only slowing down slightly when you sobbed and digged your nails into his back, he kept having that annoying sly smirk on his face, proud to be the one taking your first time and making it worthwhile. The total amount of rounds you've both gone in one night? 15 times, with breaks in-between, of course.

The second time, it was a little more tame compared to the first time. Well, if you count fucking in a garden, anything close to being tame. He bent you over the bench and rearranged your insides right then and there. Your body was still sore from yesterday, so he tried going gentle this time, but he had to grip onto your hips for dear life to refrain from losing his mind. You managed to keep your sounds fairly quiet, so no unfortunate servants passing by would have to hear the embarrassing sounds coming out of your mouth.

The third time, he held the grudges from the second time and let all of them out on you after dinner. You were forced to wear a pair of laced underwear, the provocative kind that shouldn't be seen by any children whatsoever. Your wrists tied together by his tie while he makes out with you and fucks you at the same time. The marks before haven't even completely disappeared from your body, yet they've been replaced with a new one, littered from your inner thighs to your neck.

All of that horny stuff aside, you had to give your little husband a kiss on the forehead after all the rounds you both have gone through. He fell asleep almost immediately afterwards, hugging your waist and resting his head on your chest, without any sort of defence whatsoever. Letting out a sigh, at this point, you don't know if your husband is secretly a golden retriever in disguise or not.

A/N: The end was a bit rushed, if you couldn't tell. The golden retriever thingy is a reference to one of my work that's still a work-in-progress. Thanks for reading, I hope you like this post :b

#idk what tags to add #orginal post #bottom male reader #male reader #vel fic #original character #marriage #historical #original character x reader #nfst #oc x male reader #male reader smut #x male reader #male reader insert

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lyomeii · 1 year

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the other woman

->warnings: yandere themes, cheating, manipulation, divorce mention, afab! reader, implied nsfw (but it’s very very implied.), reader’s husband is named vincent (oc), regis and Amelia have another kid.

->request by anon! Hello can you do Mistress Pregnant reader and Yandere Regis Adri Floyen when Regis is still with Amelia and Mistress reader is actually Jubellian real biological mother? I want something fluffy TVT

->a/n: fluff but with a touch of angst, my favorite thing to write. and remember, cheating is never okay and if you do that, everyone will hate you :) I know you said mistress, but I got carried away while writing this one, so please forgive me.

-> when regis married amelia, everyone was so surprised. none of the workers nor his friends expect to a man who loved another woman to marry her, it made many wonder of why of that decision. the servants whisper to each others about their theories of the suddenly marriage between the two of them.

-> what few people did knew it was how the true love of regis is you. a noble woman from another nation who meet him during a visit to the empire. he was enchanted with your actions, voice, speech and gentle touch on his skin. he would’ve ask you to marry him immediately if you weren’t already married to another. a man named Vincent who is a Duke back there.

-> the moment he realize that you were married was his down break point. regis cried to himself instead of sleeping and of course, he begged you to divorce and marry him instead. In the end, that failed and in return, you told him you have one more night before returning to your nation.

-> and he took advantage of this. regis and you spend the night together in his bedroom, you thought that would be the end of the little meetings with him, yet regis knew otherwise.

-> once you returned back to your nation, you quickly find out to be pregnant with his kid and as much you tried to hide from your husband, he found out about it. Vincent cried so much and screamed at you for doing such act with another man.

-> you knew you are the one to blame and even asked him if he wished for a divorce, but vincent decided to stay married with you and let you give birth to a little girl (whose appearance is literal a copy of regis). the three of you become a family, much to vincent coldness at beginning, he warmed up seeing the little girl calling father.

-> as the times goes on, you alongside vincent and jubelian travel to the nation where you met regis. you desperately tried to avoid that place by anything, yet with the invitation of the emperor, you had no other option than going back there and met regis.

-> regis knew you were pregnant with his child before you left him years ago, yet he never expected to see you again and still married to vincent. his bright eyes were full of shocked when seeing his daughter calling that man father.

-> he wanted to throw everything and walk to you, yet amelia and his son were next to him. both unaware by the fact that you and regis had an affair years ago that lead to jubelian existence. The man can only watch you from afar, dancing with another man who isn’t him.

-> vincent, in other hand, is aware that regis still in love with you. the black haired man loves you so much, although you hurt his heart by sleeping with that man and he hopes that you won’t leave him, not now that you guys are going have another child soon.

-> the little bump in your stomach is more than enough to shake regis back to reality, you aren’t coming back to him, aren’t you? he loves amelia and his son, yet you were his first love that he can’t seem to forget anytime soon…he is living a curse and no matter how hard he tries to forget you, you always will be in his dreams for as long he lives.

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

#yandere headcanon #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere manhwa #yandere manhwa x reader #manhwa x reader #regis floyen x reader #regis floyen imagine #yandere regis floyen #regis floyen #yandere regis floyen x reader #yandere father i don’t want to get married #father i don’t want to get married x reader #father i don’t want to get married imagine #father i dont want to get married

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fanfic-obsessed · 10 days

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Failing to Thrive then Thriving in failure

I just had the funniest notion. Time travel comedy, but the twist is that Palpatine is the one to go back in time.

So we start just after Kenobi, Palpatine has been emperor for about a decade, he succeeded. The Sith plan is complete, he has everything he had dreamed of and worked toward for a decade…and he is so bored. He never realized that 90% of his joy actually came from pretending to be a benevolent Chancellor and the intrigue of fooling people. Now he has shown his true colors and could not go back to pretending (it simply would not work). Being the Sith in charge is not as fun as he thought it would be. Even getting to openly torture people has lost its appeal after 10 years.

It’s ok for Vader. For one Vader was never interested in those intrigues in the first place. For two 45% of Vader brain is taken up by trying to resurrect Padme Amidala, 50% is taken up by Obi Wan Kenobi (Palpatine is not sure if Vader wants to kill Kenobi, Kriff Kenobi, make Kenobi tuck Vader in every night and tell him is it going to be alright, Force Kenobi to help Vader resurrected Padme, or make sure Kenobi is eating, taking care of himself, and has a good enough blanket), leaving only 5% for everything else.

Frankly if this is what Kenobi had to deal with before the war, Palpatine is somewhat impressed he got anything done.

Vader isn’t bored. Palpatine’s assorted lesser minions are not bored, they are living the dream of being as bigoted as their little fascist hearts desire. But Palpatine just could not find joy any longer.

I do want it clear. Palpatine is not repentant. He does not regret the deaths that he caused, the genocide, the enslavement, any of it. He’s just bored.

One day Palpatine finds a book, or maybe an artifact, or possibly a scrap of paper with an archaic formula. The title roughly translates to ‘Sith Master Time Travel’ (Listen The Son was also very bored, and being outside of Space Time meant He wanted to see what would happen). Palpatine is able to time travel, but only as far back as when he became a Sith Master. It was also a one time deal, he would not be able to use the method again AND it would destroy his origin timeline (not that that actually factored into Palpatine’s decision at all). Not to mention he would essentially be possessing and killing his previous, alternate timeline self.

Of course Palpatine time travels. He goes all the way back to the moment he became the Sith Master (it turns out the Sith titles are not just titles), looking at the still warm corpse of Hugo Damask, just as the Naboo crisis is wrapping up.

Now Palpatine had already decided to do some things differently. At first he was still working outward the Grand Sith Plan, if trying to keep his ‘Kindly Politician’ mask a bit longer, however he has decided that instead of Vader (or possibly in addition to Vader, if things get boring again) he will get Obi Wan Kenobi as his apprentice, figuring that there must have been a reason that every Sith Apprentice for 20 years ends up obsessed with the man (also because he thinks it would be funny to corrupt the Jedi’s ‘Guiding Light’). Dooku and all the pieces needed to start the Clone wars are already mostly in place. It is just a matter of maintaining until the clones are the right age. So he does what he needs to to maintain the Empire building plans and decides to focus on corrupting Obi Wan.

He fails, utterly. He fails so fully that Obi Wan did not even notice his attempts at corruption. Like he knew it would take time to corrupt a Jedi, he had done before after all, but he still expected at least a little change within the first year. There was nothing.

And it was not a case of Obi Wan not trusting Palpatine. This is still a decade before the war. Obi Wan is a grieving, freshly knighted, trying to keep up with a nine year old with somewhat unique trauma. Palpatine knows how to get Obi Wan to feel comfortable and trust him (Palpatine probably knows too well how to get Obi wan to feel comfortable and trust him, between Dooku and Vader). Obi Wan is just, for a given value, incorruptible.

Now Palpatine’s obsession switch has been flipped. He went into it thinking that corrupting Obi Wan would be a fun side project, a way to pass the time. He was wrong. He knows from the previous timeline that torture would not be effective (Listen if the torture mask specifically built to corrupt lightsiders did not make a dent after a month it is pretty well proven that torture will not cause Kenobi to fall, Palpatine knows this) nor would killing Kenobi’s loved work (again, if it didn’t last time we have some pretty concrete proof).

So now we have Palpatine trying every method he can think of to seduce Kenobi the darkside, always just shy of admitting to being a Sith or being creepy. To the point that he has actually forgotten the Empire building he was doing. He kind of even forgets to be Sidious. He almost ghosts Dooku, before he remembers that Dooku is Kenobi’s grandfather(that is not the correct term, Dooku tries to correct Palpatine an even dozen times before giving up) and gets Dooku involved in the corruption that is STILL. GOING. NOWHERE.

Dooku basically becomes Grandpa Dooku to both Obi Wan and Anakin, and falls back into the Light while trying unsuccessfully to corrupt Obi Wan to the Dark. Due to darkside vow complications (also because I think it would be really funny) Dooku is not able to say, imply, or otherwise do anything to make the Jedi suspicious that Palaptine is a Sith. Also, to a certain extent he thinks that as long as Palpatine is focused on corrupting his incorruptible grandson, the other Sith is not thinking about galactic domination (To be fair he is correct).

Palpatine spends most of his time trying to corrupt Obi Wan, while keeping up the act used to maintain Obi Wan’s trust. The thing is Palpatine is fully aware that Anakin in the original timeline was about observant as a particularly dense brick wall and would not have realized that the persona of ‘My friend Palaptine’ did not match the reality of ‘My pal Friendpatine’. Obi Wan would realize if his act was not consistent.

So Palpatine decided to keep the act up 24/7. And everyone knows that your actions become your habits become your personality.

Somewhere in year 8 Palpatine forgets how to Sith.

Technically he is still a darksider but not the extra layer of fucked up that comes from being an actual Sith. And he still has not even made a dent in Obi Wan’s light. He has also, almost single handedly, derailed the war that had been brewing and fixed about 40% of the corruption in the Senate. All without killing a single senator.

Palpatine spends most of his time very confused.

Palpatine lets his term as Chancellor end, having gone down in history as one of the most beloved Chancellors in history. The Clones are found and mostly are inducted as an arm of the Jedi Order. Jango Fett is given a metric ton of therapy, which helps him see that the Jedi were not actually at fault for Galidraan (Jango had, in fact, been the person to escalate things to violence) before he is allowed to take Boba back into the galaxy. By that point the Clones want little to do with him.

For the rest of his life Palpatine tries, unsuccessfully, to corrupt Obi Wan (who never noticed). At this point he is genuinely friends with a number of Jedi (He and Mace Windu have a surprising amount in common, including a love of the theater and a mild exasperation for Anakin Skywalker's antics). He is an honored guest at both the CodyWan and the Anidala Weddings (including a Jedi based wedding ceremony).

Honestly he is having the most fun of his life.

He is also never caught as a darksider. He never figures out how that is possible either.

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars au #obi wan kenobi #fanfiction prompt #anakin skywalker #codywan #sheev palpatine #bamf obi wan #anidala #incorruptible Obi Wan #Obi Wan is Light Sided #Darth Vader #darth sidious #time travel #comedy #humor

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muntitled · 6 months

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𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐍𝐚

Pairings: Jaemin Na x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Jaemin Na, the dashing yet ambitious magnate, is tired of playing the toll as a silent stakeholder. He wants your father's business. He wants the whole thing, even if it means seducing the boss's daughter to get it.

Warning: Business Rivals to Fwb to lovers, Toxic Family Relationship, Violence, Business politics, Businessman AU, Forbidden Relationship, Slight Angst, Male Manipulation, Manipulation tactics, Smut (+18) Minors dni, Daddy Kink, Degradation Kink, Rough Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Ownership Kink, DDLG, Fingering, Spitting, Marking, Bruises, Grinding, Breeding Kink, Unprotected Sex.

A/N: My third NCT Dream fic! They're truly my favorite group, so I plan on writing more for them. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this. Excuse me while I project my daddy kink onto Jaemin. Im sorry, but my bias fuels it way too much. You all saw that live, right?... THAT one live. Iykyk. Anyway, he's so daddy coded, okay bye.

The moon is high, and the night is deep when you find yourself quite literally being paraded around a bustling open reception. Goldleaf and tinsel wrap around the off-white columns, veneering the room in a deep but faintly expensive sepia tone. Despite the hatred festering in your bones, you did have to admit that the clubhouse in the very center of a highly competitive Country Club did make for a good party reception indeed. Nestling all of 100 dapper guests, 100 partners, wives and mistresses, and 100 wallets, to sink their wrinkled hands into.

Your father did know how to throw a party, you'd certainly give the man that. That is all you give him, however. That is all the grace he deserves.

Despite the tempest of emotions in your veins, the laughter you emit to the group surrounding the small appetizer's table is static and robotic, and anything but genuine. It pitters politely out of your lips as you raise the flute of shampagne, hoping to disguise just how fucking annoyed you actually were.

"You'll do well to remember the name," your father proclaims before laying a hand on your back as he pushes you closer into the circle of suited men - a lamb to the proverbial slaughter.

"She's going to be running things once I retire," a Jazz number played by a live band is not enough to drown out the influx of chatter that spreads throughout the main hall of the Clubhouse at the news of your father's retirement. You could practically here the thinning lips salivate at the very sound of it: The emperor, stepping down, leaving his empire vulnerable to the raiders.

"I feel proud and so unbelievably lucky to have such a reliable line of succession." Says your father, "When I'm six foot under, I'll know that Neo Tech is safe in her hands-"

A snicker escapes, likely concocted by the decent amount of alcohol in your blood, "Although that time isn't coming soon enough!" Your statement allows for a grand chuckle to fall across the table where you all stood, nursing your deviled eggs and bacon-wrapped asparagus.

The display is that of good-natured jest between a father and daughter to the guests around you, clad in ambercrombie suits and Alexander Mcqueen gowns.

Your father, however, slithers a hand onto your shoulder, squeezing all too hard as he laughs statically.

You can feel the warning in his calloused grip. A stern threat...

Not too much, it cautioned.

The action, though seemingly innocent and fleeting to the rest of the table, draws the attention of a man whose countenance had been sparse and dismisive the entire evening. Despite this being a private gathering for your father's most trusted stakeholders and their partners, Jaemin had been far from interested in attending.

Once, he was made privy to the knowledge that this was a retirement celebration, however... that changed things, and Jaemin threw on his jet black Armani blazer over a silky unisex blouse that stretched across his chest.

He admits that he made his attendance out of greed. Having to save face and play the roll of the responsibile stakeholder before he was truly able to pillage your father's company right from underneath him. If that meant entertaining the degenerate conversation of greying white men with viagra prescriptions and a cocaine addiction, then so be it.

"It truly is a shame that I have to take something from someone as promising as yourself." He whispers to himself over the rim of his own champagne flute, his darkened eyes stationed on you. It was difficult not to stare, when you were being hounded by business associates, men and women alike, eager to ascertain how they might win the hand of the queen.

A silk gown drips like the liquidfied night sky down your curves, spilling on the floor around what Jaemin imagined to be ample, soft thighs - something he could sink his fingers into, sink his teeth into-

You're chuckling very fakely at something an investor said at a round cocktail table nearby. Although what really gets Jaemin's blood rushing through his arteries is the sight of your father dragging you away from the main hall, up a spiraling stair case. Jaemin prided himself on minding his business. This came second nature to him.

What he could not ignore, however, was the slight alarm, marring the scowl along your soft face. Nothing could spoil your perfect makeup, but the frown he caught a glimpse of before you disappeared was enough.

Jaemin almost immediately found his Hilfiger loafers leading him down the path you had just walked. He downed the golden liquid in his flute and, never breaking eye contact from the spiral staircase, placed the glass on the tray of a mobile waiter. He wiped the access champagne off his lips, quite barbarically, with the sleeves of his blazer as he emerged into the main foyer.

Immediately, a hiss of conversation could be heard from the mezzanine above.

"-the hands of the company! Do you understand how important this is?! How fucking ungrateful you are-"

"Not to interrupt," Jaemin speaks, slyly climbing the stairs as he stuffed his hand into the pocket of his dress pants. The look your father thows him is absolutely villanizing.

Instead of shying away, however, you swallow thickly to note a slow sick sort of smirk curling onto Jaemin's face.

"Who the fuck are you?" Instead of sparing your father any look at all, Jaemin's gaze is solidified on your father's violent grip on your forearm.

"You don't know who he is?" You ask your father, marginally shocked but not at all surprised as Jaemin neared the two of you.

"That's okay, that's okay," he says, letting the gleaming smirk stay solid across his face, "My father sends his greetings, by the way" Jaemin says, "I didn't wish for our 45% share not to be represented at such a monumental event."

Therein lies the very first signs of embarrassment around your father's face. He begrudgingly removes his grip from your forearm but does not leave before he quickly tacks on, "Excuse me, Mr Na, but this is a private conversation -"

Jaemin is already lifting his hand, his Rolex gleaming under the crystal chandelier as he casually says, "Important enough to miss an audience with your shareholders? Everyone is asking for you, big man." Jaemin replies smoothly, "You are still the boss, right?"

Then, and only then does Jaemin exchange the very first real bit if eye contact with you tnh entire evening, and God strike you dead if it did not release an influx of warm, sputtering butterflies with molten wings in the pit of your stomach. You're still glidd to his side. The successor cradled tightly to her Daddy's arm.

"We'll finish this later," Your father hisses in your ear before stepping back and giving Jaemin one final nod. His disappearance births an uncomfortable heat and even more uncomfortable silence in the mezzanine. Jaemin does nothing but watch you with a tilted head and a near constant smirk.

"Hi." He says cheekily, all of the seriousness in his voice gone as he begins to move closer to you. You only roll your eyes before turning around to scour for a free room in the clubhouse. He follows cooly and calmly.

"Stop staring at my ass," you chide, pushing open a heavy door before switching on the light.

"Nah," Jaemin follows you inside. "Don't tell me what to do,"

He turns to peer down the corridor with one raised eyebrow before effectively sealing the door shut. You had led the both of you into one of the very many guest suites peppered across the Clubhouse. Jaemin is remarkably pleased to notice how your inhibitions immediately melt away. Your shoulders relax as you kick off your red bottomed heels, letting them land lazily in a corner.

"You haven't told him have you?" His voice is stable but rumbles like a heavy cloud throughout the room.

You evade eye contact as you quickly walk up to him, beginning to splay tiny kisses around his exposed neck.

"No, Jaemin," Your breathe fans across his exposed skin as you undo thr little bow of the silk blouse, "I did not tell my father about your plans to rape his company," You push down his blazer and he lets you. Watching you with a piercing glare as a deep, warm, pool of lust begins to grow in your core at the very sight of how big he truly is.

"Would you rather he find out on the day?" He asks, still letting you undress him as if he was a lifeless piece of him. "I know you're evil but that evil-"

"Fuck, you're so hot," Jaemin's cock stirs, as it always did, when that needy sort of whine pushed itself out the confines of your throat. You knew what buttons to push, to get the reaction you wanted. Tonight, however, would prove to be a much different occasion.

"How long do you plan on waiting?" You're nails are dragging itself down the front of his muscled body. Before you can reach his cock, already causing a bulge in his dress pants, Jaemin roughly grabs at your wrist.

"I said. How long do you plan on waiting?" Despite the calmness in his voice, Jaemin's grip on your wrist is unrelenting. It is rough, and it is violent, and it makes your father's earlier grip on your forearm feel like a child's play.

"Fucking forever, Jaemin! Jesus!" You burst in a flurry of rage and lust and frustration. "I will wait until forever it means I won't get outed as a shit daughter and a fucking rat, Jaemin!"

He tilts his head as he smiles and cooly says, "Watch that tone."

But he's already got you going, and you're finally letting out the feelings that had only been building for the duration of an entire, hellish evening. "Can you even begin to understand how I feel?! I know you want this company, but -"

"But?" Jaemin asks in a sing-song voice before pulling you closer by your wrist. He dips his head down, folding his tall frame over as he tilts your head up. "There shouldn't be a but, baby." The words are veneered in a lustful whisper as he finally places his lips to your throat.

"With me, it's either all or nothing." Now it's Jaemin's turn to slowly drag his hands up the side of your curves. He lets the tips of his fingers tease the fabric as he smoothes his hand over your chest. Your resolve explodes, and you melt right into him, as his hand makes its way up your throat. His palm enclosing the spot where his lips have just been.

"I hate seeing you like that, baby. I hate seeing you glued to his side when you should be glued to mine."

You're faintly aware that you're both mobile now. Not knowing which way is up and which is down as your back presses against a wall.

"He's..." you swallow thickly as Jaemin slips down the soft fabric of your dress. Your exposed shoulder is immediately assaulted by his reign of wet and drunken kisses.

As he tongues at the skin, Jaemin makes sure to look up at you. Siren eyes under thick eyebrows as he pushes the fabric all the way down until your dress is pooling at your feet and you're left in nothing but your Fenty underwear.

"He's family." You applaud yourself mentally for having the brain capacity to formulate all of two words. That celebration, however, immediately falls short when Jaemin snickers. He pulls back, turning his head slightly as his tongue stabs the inside of his mouth before swinging his head back to you.

"You always tell me you only have one, Daddy, don't you?"

A deep, angry heat blossoms around your skin as you evade eye contact. "Jesus, Jaemin."

"Jaemin?" He mocks, before pushing you back further onto wall.

"Is that who I am to you?"

"That is your name, yes." Your confidence waver when his hands begin to push down the straps of bra. He undoes the clasps as he says, "Interesting. So then, i guess, my name wasnt Jaemin, when i fucked you on a nalcony in Mykonos? Got it."

He's quick to push your panties down far enough so that he's forcing his fingers between your legs. The gasp you emit is almost painful as you immediately buck your hips into his hand. “Fuck-”

“You cum on my hand, correct?”

“F-Fuck,” he lets you hump lazily into his palm and you all but whimper as your begin to yearn for him to fuck you with his long digits.

“You cum on my hand. You cum on my cock. Only I can do that for you, baby”

“God, yes, Daddy.”

Jaemin has to physically stop himself from not pulling his pants down and fucking your brains right right and there. Those words leaving your mouth did something animalistic to him- scratching a very archaic part of his monkey brain that let him know that you needed him. You needed him to reach orgasm, you needed him to fuck you to feel good. You needed him.

“You don't need anyone else, but me, right baby?”

You're so dangerously close to the edge, your vision blurring with your oncoming orgasm as you reply, “You, Daddy- only you.”

His cock is pushing painfully against dress pants and Jaemin swear as he pulls his blouse over his head. Your breathing grows even more precipitous when you see his torso in all its big and gleaming glory.

“need you so bad,” you mumble, still pushing your hips out even though his hand has disappeared and there's nothing there.

“Yeah?” He asks, pulling his cock out without breaking eye contact, “You need Daddy’s cock, don't you, sweetheart?”

“I need it,” you whisper and watch as your words affect him in ways you had not seen before.

Jaemin’s eyes are blown into saucers while the tips of his brown hair is drenched in sweat. Gone is the cockiness. Gone is the smirk. He only brings a cupped hand up to your mouth as he orders you to, “Spit.”

Almost without thinking about it, you do just that, and Jaemin watches with an open mouth as he begins to stroke his himself with your wetness. He throws his head back in a broken amalgamation of a moan and a gasp, and you're only left to watch while your hand almost subconsciously moves down your own body.

The sound of your wetness brings Jaemin back to the mission at hand as he lolls his head forward. The sight of you fucking yourself, knuckles deep, as your eyes zero in on his hand, has him immediately pushing you against the wall.

“You're such a fucking slut-” He hisses and you moan as he pulls your hand up to his mouth. “Did Daddy teach you to be a slut?” and when you fail to respond he only says, “Answer me,” he says cooly, “Did I teach you to be a slut, or a good girl?”

You have truly reached a stalemate. Not knowing what to say that might garner a favourable response. Dread pools in your tummy and Jaemin only watches as go to war with yourself. The conflict in your eye is present and raw.

All is quiet as Jaemin bends down slowly and that signature smirk curls at the end of his lips.

“Cute.” He whispers before crashing his lips against yours.

Your hands enclose around the back of Jaemin's hand as he effortlessly picks you up off the ground, forcing your legs to wrap around his waist. He pushes you up against the wall and the immediate contact of your dripping pussy pressed against his skin has you both moaning and groaning into the kiss.

“So fucking cute...” He whispers before easing his cock right into you, “You're so fucking tight- fuck-” the wind sounds like it has been knocked clean out of him as he begins to fuck you with harsh, violent thrusts.

“That's it, pretty girl,”

You can hear the smile in his voice and you fight to open your eyes. If there was one thing that got you even wetter it was the sight of Jaemin just managing a lazy open-mouth smile as he forced his cock into your cunt. It stings and hurts but the pleasure in his hooded eyes make the experience all the more worth it.

Jaemin clenches his jaw together as he leans down until you're both forehead to forehead.

“That man downstairs isn't your Daddy, is he?” His eyes dare you to disagree with him but all you do us shake your head as you say, “You. You're my Da- oh God.”

“I'll take that title too,” he chuckles before pushing his face into the crook of your neck as he sped up his pace. Jaemin fucks hard and rough and you claw mindlessly at his back. He loves it. You know he does because his cock is twitching inside of you and you know he's close.

“Fuck-Daddy, please!”

Your begging nearly sends him over the edge but he still manages to keep his thrusts hard and unrelenting. “You gonna cum for me, Princess?”

“F-Fuck yes, Sir-”

“You're not gonna keep me a secret, are you? Promise me. ” You knew what he was doing, forcing you into a mental state of complete disrepair as he bullied his cock into your cunt.

“F-Fuck," he hisses, "Answer me, baby- ‘mgonna fill your cunt so fucking fast,” he breathes out, before throwing his head back again.

“Promise!” You grit out, “I promise-” almost immediately, your orgasm washes over you eliciting wave after wave of delicious pleasure that has your mind rumbling.

“F-Fuck you're so tight- Fuck, Fuck, fuck-!” He exclaims before he's emptying himself inside of you. He's fucking you with the stamina of a caveman as he forces his seed all the way inside. “God you're so sexy, you know that?” He says, with his eyes still clenched shut as his aftershocks pass through his body. “So fucking hot.”

While his mind soars on the wings of his orgasm, that post nut clarit crashes through gradually. You breathe out steadily as you stare into nothingness. “I can't believe I gave our family company away like that,”

A hand is quick to pull you by the chin until you're looking up at him. Even with his wet and matted hair, along with the beads of sweat growing pregnant on his brow, Jaemin remains ever handsome. His smile ever present.

“It's still the family business, Honey.” Jaemin smirks, “Our family.”

♡♡♡ if you made it this far, thanks for reading

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