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getaapologist · 3 months ago

Note

The Geta x Servant!Reader lore just keeps getting better and better 😍😭 If it ever strikes your fancy, I would love to see what happens if someone else (a bold servant or a drunk senator perhaps) tried to put their hands on her. Or literally anything else you want to write because I will continue eating it up and enjoying every moment of it!

More servant!reader because why not? We all deserve happiness.

[ Prior entry in the servant!reader blurb saga here ]

Loud, boisterous laughter. Soft music filtering in, a cool evening that drew the guests out into the gardens.

The stars were bright pinpricks of light above, the sky clear.

Large hands gripped your calves, your ankles, your legs strewn across Geta’s lap. He was deep in conversation with a senator, who thought the wine and merriment might make Geta more amenable to whatever his desires were.

Or perhaps, having you in his lap would do the trick.

If there was any discomfort in your legs, it would have been worked out quickly as Geta kneaded your muscles.

“Emperor?” you whispered, not wanting to interrupt him, but greatly desiring one of the sweet cakes back in the main room.

He didn’t take his eyes off the Senator, but gave your ankle a squeeze, as if he sensed you wished to get up. His touch returned the shackle, but it was no longer a burden or a restraint. It was a soft band of silk, a tether, a way back to him.

His hands left your legs and he glanced over as you slid off his lap, his eyes raking over you. “Do not be long, little lamb.”

The grass was cold beneath your bare feet, and the stone floor was even colder still. Geta had stolen your sandals earlier, deft fingers pulling at the thin leather cords keeping them on.

Still, your destination was just ahead, the table piled high with sweets and other things. You took your time, adding things to a small plate that you enjoyed, but also things you knew Geta particularly liked, just in case he wanted something.

“I have not seen you at these gatherings before, for I would surely remember you.” The voice carried a smile with it, and you looked up, laying eyes on a man you did not recognize, clad in the white robes of a senator. “What is your name?”

The smell of the bitter wine on his breath was unavoidable. You could see the slight sway in his posture as he stood, emboldened by the alcohol.

You knew better, you knew this was a situation you wanted to avoid. You missed the protective aura that Geta provided. You felt untouchable when with him. You wished you could tug on that tether, bring Geta over. But in lieu of that, you tried to remain polite as you dismissed his interest. “I must go, excuse me.”

A firm, unrelenting grip wrapped around your upper arm, stopping you, pulling you back to where he stood, his brows drawn together in barely veiled frustration.

“You refuse to answer me?”

“You really shouldn’t do that,” Caracalla warned, his voice lilting as an amused grin spread across his face. "That's his favorite." He approached the table, loading up a small plate of his own as if this confrontation were not occurring.

You could not ask Caracalla to intervene, You did not enjoy the same latitude with him as you did with his brother. You could only bring your arms up to try to shield yourself from the man’s prying eyes.

The hand at your arm tightened its grip, yanking you forward. The plate in your hands fell to the floor with a loud clatter, drawing all attention to where you stood.

Embarrassment and fear filled you, remnants of your former work not feeling so distant now as you looked down at the mess on the floor. You longed to scoop it up, lamenting the wasted sweet cakes.

“You will unhand her, senator!” Geta spoke, his voice laden with fury.

Before the man could, his hand was wrenched away from you, his breath leaving his lungs in a forceful huff as he was pushed up against a nearby column. Your skin burned painfully where the man’s hand had been.

Caracalla leaned against the table nearby, watching with great amusement.

Geta raged, the halls echoing with his threats. His face and throat were bright red, neck flexing, veins prominent. You overheard something about being fed to lions before you needed a distraction from the attention.

Discomfort overwhelming, you knelt down to the floor, scooping the ruined cakes onto the empty plate in an effort to forestall the tears. The cakes were so destroyed, they were in small pieces, your hands growing quite messy as you attempted to clean them up.

“Leave it,” Geta whispered, his large hands stilling yours. The sticky sweet mess did not bother him, his large brown eyes worried. As he saw your expression, he moved his palms to your cheeks, urging you to look at him.

Shame burned through you, as if this was all your fault. “I am sorry, Emperor.”

Geta shook his head, anger in his expression, though it was not directed at you. “No, little lamb,” he whispered. “This is not your fault.” His tenderness was almost shocking after the volley of verbal abuse he’d just spewed at the senator.

Geta stood, orders leaving his reddened throat. The senator was cast out, never to be invited again. The mess was cleaned up, a fresh plate laden with more sweets sent to his chambers. He even managed to ignore Caracalla’s derisive chuckling as he used a wet cloth to clean the both of your fingers.

“Cheer up, little lamb,” he smiled softly, nudging your chin with his knuckle. His large chestnut eyes watched you, eventually falling to the arm where the man had grabbed you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, reaching for his wrist. His eyes flitted down to the point of contact before meeting yours again, something else in his gaze.

He seemed to hesitate, something unexpected causing him to falter for a moment. And only a moment. Hunger surfaced in his eyes, his desire to smooth things over, to get you to forget about the handsy senator surely at the forefront of his mind. “Come, let me feed you all the cake you care to enjoy, mea mellitula.”

A/N: 'mea mellitula' is roughly my honey. Maybe we forgot about the finger incident, but clearly Geta didn't.

[ next entry in the servant!reader universe here ]

#emperor geta #emperor geta x reader #gladiator ii x reader #joseph quinn x reader #gladiator 2 x reader #blurb #joe quinn x reader #servant!reader x geta #servant!reader

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lilacgaby · 8 months ago

Text

‧₊˚ running out of time,

to make you love me. ₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩

THE PRINCE'S BALL was to be had on his 18th birthday. the week before, you realize the feelings you have harbored over the years for him. little did you know you were both fighting against the time restraint placed on him.

-☆pair. prince!katsuki x servant!reader. tags: fem!reader, cursing, romance, kissing, childhoodfriend!reader, insecurities, pet names(?), miscommunication trope, wingmen, angst to fluff. royal!au wc: 5k

-✩note. based off this drabble i did a long time ago.

“prince, please! just let me–” he shoved your hand that was moving to button up his shirt away, glaring at you. “no. i can do this by myself.”

he fumbled with the buttons, large hands trickly maneuvering them into their respective places. it was a definite struggle, as seen through the furrow in his brow, the snarl on his lips, the twitch of his brow.

oh, and the fact that the shirt was inside out with all the buttons in the wrong holes.

you sighed as you finally took his hands into yours, something that would result in a peasants hand getting cut off entirely. “prince,” you started, “this is my only responsibility. if you become good at this too i'll be out of a job.” you joked.

he scoffed, letting you pull his hand to his side as you unbuttoned his work. flipping the shirt around and working nimbly to get it on. “didn't even need y’r help anyways, i had it.” he muttered.

“of course you did, it's just– this is my job, your highness.” his eye twitched at the assertion of his rank. while it made him feel empowered by others, extras as he'd call them, it brought an odd feeling to have you of all people refer to him that way.

he’d grew up alongside you, the daughter of his very own mother’s handmaiden. you'd play around the castle together, sitting in for lessons with each other. to others it was an odd sight for you to be there, with clothes made of less refined material and hair unstyled and free.

he was raised the first twelve years of his life seeing you as his equal, viewing you almost as a royal all the same. until it was decided you'd be his personal servant. the nickname you had forgotten to time that you'd dubbed him all those years ago was now replaced by a formal ‘prince’. you'd bow to him and fetch him anything he needed. you'd stay by his side all day long, almost like you weren't allowed to leave.

because you weren't. because you were his, though not in the way he wanted.

“i already told you,” he whispered so lowly, if you weren't so close to him you wouldn't have heard it. “when it's just us it's katsuki. like it..

like it used to be.”

your hand paused, staying where it was fluffing up the collar of his button-up. your eyes widened and heart fastened, the pumping in your ears as a smile overtook your face. “..okay katsuki.”

an equally flushed look brushed over him, “tsk, whatever. we got a busy day today so, hurry up [name]..” you nodded, saluting mockfully as you hurried fixed his coat onto him, making sure his slacks were nicely pleated and shoes spotless before he head out to address the royals.

the royals who were visiting today in regards to his birthday bash in a week. the one where he'd have to choose a wife, one who'd hold the future of his kingdom in her hands alongside his.

you followed closely behind him as he made his way down to the main court, no words were shared between you but you understood the internal turmoil going through his head as best as you could.

mostly because you really didn't want him to get married either.

a longing glance went unnoticed by you as he looked at you, red eyes noticing the same feeling of anxiety in yours.

he balled his fist a little tighter at the sight, before slamming the doors of the court open, making everyone jump. you bowed deeply before following him, his hands deep in the silken slacks specially made for him.

katsuki hated how you weren't allowed to sit down almost as much as he hated this meeting entirely. dumbass kings and queens of other kingdoms looked at him, or more accurately the figurative seat he'd soon have as ruler, with fake practiced smiles on their faces. fake interest and fake emotions, fake everything.

he didn't fight the snarl on his face, the discontent in his posture as he rolled his eyes at their words, not sparing glances at the photos of their daughters or offers of money to him and his parents.

he truly didn't care, at least, not until they brought up you.

an older king, one with a smile that was more so with his eyes than his lips, joked to the king, “so, when your son gets married, can i have the servant? she's a looker.”

the rest of the royals laughed, hands covering their faces as katsuki felt disgusted for you, so much he just had to speak, “back off. why are you talking about her like that anyways? she's not for sale.” at least he managed not to curse.

a queen with a stupidly large fan in her hand made exaggeratedly big eyes, an ‘o’ on her lips as she spoke with a sickeningly sweet voice, “oh, don't you know future king? when the queen is assigned to this kingdom, your servant will be switched, considering she isn't a, well, he.” another joined in, red lipstick smothered over their lips, “no self respecting princess would ever let their betrothed have a servant of the opposite sex, what a scandal!”

laughs filled the room once more, though katsuki and his parents did not join in. he gripped the wood of his chair tightly, you swore you heard it crack under the weight of his anger. a vein was visible in his arms, a glare on his face. though he stayed silent. he glanced at you occasionally, and you'd give him a polite wave.

the rest of the conversation went about as smoothly as expected. the royals clashed with the kingdom’s generally ‘out of norm’ beliefs, a woman as the main advisor of the kingdom, and not to mention the queen holding majority power steady? but they barely voiced their discomfort since they wanted to stay on the queen and king’s good side. with a wave of the hand the queen gestured for katsuki to leave.

so katsuki left as soon as he was allowed to, almost jumping out of his seat. he left without a proper dismissal to the royals, something he'd get reprimanded for later. you right behind him. “where are we going prince? are you hungry?”

“no.” his voice was dry, no emotion seeping through as he continued walking throughout the halls. his face was hidden from your view. “okay, so where are we going?”

“the gardens.” your face scrunched up in confusion, you sped up your steps to try and catch him. “wait, the gardens? why?”

he stopped, making you bump into him as he finally looked into your eyes for the first time in a while. “because we need to talk, [name].” his eyes looked almost betrayed, sorrowful. your mouth opened to respond but you were cut off by your own need to keep up as he started up again.

through the halls and down a staircase, then turning to the left.

he stopped at the center of it all, almost to the entrance of the maze. stood in front of a grand waterfall built into the greenery, one you were very familiar with. the same one you'd played at as kids.

“katsuki.” you heaved. having to chase him through a flight of stairs was not for the weak, a.k.a you. you plopped right down on the bench next to him, ungraciously downing a water bottle as you closed your eyes. the sound of birds chirping, water running, and wind blowing through the garden filled your ears. a sense of serenity flooding over you two.

“when were you going to tell me?” katsuki’s voice cut through it all, a soft tone in his statement as he looked away from you. you jumped up at the sudden noise, but quickly asked, “tell you about what?”

he scoffed. “about what happens when i get married. how you're just going to leave? you're just going to leave me?” his eyes burrowed into your soul, accusatory words leaving his mouth as he stared at you.

“no, no i just– katsuki i didn't want to add another thing to stress about to you so quickly. i was going to tell you, but they told you first. i'm sorry.”

“you should be. i– i don't-,” his words got caught up in his mind. his mouth slightly hung open as he found himself unable to complete his sentence. his brain short circuited when you grabbed onto his hand, intertwining and bringing them onto your lap as you ask, “is everything okay?”

the words rushed out defensively. “yes, fuck. yes i'm okay. i don't like you hiding things from me so, don't pull that shit again.” he internally slapped himself on the head, his mind yelling a resounding no at his mouth.

he wanted to tell you how he needed you to stay, how he wanted you by his side for eternity. how he wished you were a royal, because he would've proposed just to the sight of you in the mornings. to the candid moments your two shared so often.

but he didn't.

you were undeterred by his harsh language, squeezing his hands before letting go and nodding. “ of course, prince.”

there it was again. the everlasting reminder of the differences between you, the boundaries that had never been dared crossed. though, as you guided him to the dining hall, he felt he might have to take that chance.

…

he finished dinner and changed, wanting to go to bed early that day. you bowed once more, before going to your own personal chambers just across from him.

you took a long, hot shower. the cascading of the water onto your body helping sooth the questions plaguing your mind. you washed your face, brushed your teeth and laid onto your bed, staring at the moonlit sky as you sigh.

you didn't want to leave katsuki. not at all. you didn't want him to get married, you didn't want him to kiss or be affectionate with someone else, you wanted him for you, like you two have always been. just for each other.

you wanted him to confide in you as equal again, you dreamt of being able to sit at the same tables and converse publicly. you wanted to hold his hand and not fear one day it'd be chopped off.

you wanted to be his. fully.

you let the sounds of the remaining water drip from the faucet rock you to sleep, impulsive thoughts striking your mind as you thought.. you might as well use these last days to show your feelings to him. you'll be gone next week anyways.

waking up with a renewed sense of vigor, you knew you now only had a couple days to show katsuki your feelings indirectly. well, as indirectly as you could think of.

starting this day, you snuck in more lingering touches than you thought possible, complimenting him whenever you were alone. being sweet to him, so sweet that he kept asking if you wanted something.

“prince, i brought some more of those chilis you like.”

instead of accepting them graciously, he only eyed you suspiciously. “the hell do you want?” he asked, staring at you accusedly as he bit down on one with no reaction.

“nothing! why do you keep saying that?” you pouted, “i should take the damn chilies back.”

“no way. these are mine, [name].” he snatched the basket out of your hands and stuffed one in his mouth. when he finally gulped it down, he adorned a lazy smirk, “thanks, [name].”

you hated how your heart reacted to him.

while your plan was underway of trying to get him to realize your feelings for you, he-

was trying to figure out how to keep you by his side. he used your only off day, mondays, as a way to get some advice. too bad he was friends with a bunch of bumbling idiots.

they were gathered around a place meant to practice their swordsmanship. his ‘friends’ who consisted of sons of dukes, duchesses, and advisors hung around. he kicked out a lot of them, leaving only three. sero, kirishima, and kaminari.

“hey bakugo, what's got you all crazy?” kaminari asked, trying to snipe an apple off of a nervous kirishima's head with a bow. “yeah, you've been giving us a death stare all day.” sero agreed, laughing at his repeated misses.

katsuki's back faced them.“i..,” he sucked in a breath. “ineedyourhelp.” he muttered quickly.

“what?” they all stopped, staring at him confused.

“ineedyourhelp.”

“slow down man-”

“i need your help.”

they all were jaw slack at the revelation, eyebrows raised as they stared at each other and back at him. they collectively chose not to make fun of him, almost feeling the urge to applaud his growth. “oh.. uh- what's up bro?”

katsuki breathed in, before averting his eyes and explaining. “my.. personal servant. found out she's gonna leave when i get married to some random princess, ill never see her again. but.. i don't want to lose her. i can't imagine my life without her.”

the three blinked, they'd never really seen bakugo this way. a look in his eyes that could only be described as, “love.” kaminari muttered, his hand supporting his chin as he diagnosed him. “you're in love man, congrats!”

he was now breathless as thoughts ran throughout his head, he found himself unable to respond. it was so obvious, his feelings for you were out of the ordinary, but he could never quite place the title of his symptoms til now.

the three shared a look at each other again, before sero pointed his finger in the air, “obviously, you want to marry her.”

katsuki sighed, a hand moving to support his head from head his neck. “so?”

“so,” kirishima started, “you marry her. easy.”

“not easy, isn't that like against the law?” kaminari cut in, picking up his bow once again.

“law or tradition, who knows? but maybe in those dusty old books we can find a law that like, lets him do this?” sero suggested.

kirishima snapped. “that's it!,” the arrow flew to pin the apple into the wall, “we just have to prove that he's allowed to marry a non-royal.”

“you idiots make it sound so easy.”

“cause it is. we can handle the research with help from your huge library!” kaminari pointed out, grabbing the staked apple and taking a bit out of it. “matter of fact. let's start now, we're going to need to plan out for your big day anyways.” kirishima held out a hand to bakugo.

a smirk came over katsuki’s face as he grabbed his hand, before nodding. “right.”

the rest of the day was spent knee deep in book upon books. the book keeper’s apprentice even helped them out, though they finally left at midnight with the ten books that would have the answers they need. they'd shoved the bulk of the books under his bed, high-fiving him sleepily as they hopped onto carriages, promising to be back tomorrow.

and back they were. the grind continued as they read page to page, finding clauses and conditions that could help katsuki. they each were assigned a book to look through, though they had to hide it from you. which was hard since looking after katsuki was your job.

“prince, is there anything you or your guests would like?” you asked, internally sobbing as you couldn't undergo your top tier plan with his friends around. what were they even doing? the entire day they spent holed up in his chambers, sat in a strange circle as they all read through the books.

“uh, we're okay-”

“actually servant,” kaminari cut in, a cheshire smile on his face, “we made a huge mess in the library yesterday. mind cleaning it for us?”

“o-oh. i don't mind, excuse me.” with that, and the tray of snacks you'd left behind, you were gone. sero and katsuki finished their books first, not finding anything of use. they started the next ones, when a couple hours in, kirishima suddenly jumped up, the cheese he was snacking on now discarded as he held the book into the air. “guys! i got something!” he was about to read it when an excited katsuki went and took it out of his hands, reading it in his mind.

‘clause 1.43.77, any king or queen who rules over their kingdom must choose a royal to accompany them by their side and produce an heir to the kingdom.

however, if a non-royal has proven their worthiness through devotion and loyalty to not only said king or queen, but the kingdom, they are an eligible bachelor as well.’

“this.. this can work then.” the four exchanged exhausted smiles, before collectively passing out. you came back to the sight of them all slumped over, you were tired yourself from putting away hundreds of law books. you grabbed pillows and blankets, placing them over the heirs to the kingdom, gently raising their heads and laying them onto the pillows.

you were upset at the day lost, katsuki had barely been sparing you a glance as of late. and that continued into the next day. you brought breakfast for all him and his guests, waking them up with a pull of a curtain. they all groaned collectively, trying to shield their eyes from the blinding sun. “what time even is it?” one of them grumbled. “too early.”

“it is noon, i let you all sleep in. you really should be getting up now.” you left the tray in front of them, being mindful of the books splayed open around them.

they got up, the red-haired one seemingly smelling the food in the air? odd. they all were really odd to say the least. they stared at you silently, making you tilt your head in confusion. all before katsuki raised a hand to you, mirroring his own mothers actions towards himself. “you're.. dismissed until the ball, [name].”

your eyes widened, mouth agape for a second before taking your leave. as the door closed behind you, a weird feeling of despair overtook you. you wobbled over to your room, locking the door behind as the feeling settled over you. you stared out the window, the cloudiness of the skies doing nothing to alleviate your mood.

meanwhile, katsuki was planning once again. there was now only two days left, two days to decide how he was going to plan out his bash.

two days to deal with the uncertainties that would arise from his crush on you. he could lose you, marry some other woman and imagine it was you laying next to him. imagine it was your lips and not hers, pretend she acted like you, all to save from the stresses of worrying about the problems to come.

no, he wanted you. he needed all of you, he needed to be all yours.

he sent his friends off, calling carriages for them

and reluctantly thanking them for their help. he walked around the gardens again, reminiscing on the years you two had spent, the many memories you'd made together.

he thought back to the way you'd play together, the causal touches and referring of each other something he'd taken for granted.

he closed his eyes, he never wanted his time with you to end, kingdom be damned. he wanted to memorialize your time together forever.

unknowingly, foiling your very own plans to make more with him. you didn't know what to do with yourself, you found yourself back at the servant’s quarters sniffling softly into the lap of the head servant, your mother. you knew he didn't upset you intentionally, right?

your mother listened as you explained what had happened, how you never had felt like such a failure. maybe it was those idiot friends of his, you didn't know.

your mother comforted you with a hand running along your hair, her embrace rocking you to sleep that night. her eyes looked into your sleeping ones, your face squished against her legs as wore a face of worry. your feelings were obvious, attending the bash and seeing him choose a bride would hurt you..

should she forbid you from attending?

…

katsuki was walking around his room aimlessly. his mind was running, purely on thoughts of you. he couldn't get you out his mind, he missed you deeply. but, he needed the space away from you to think. at least that's what he thought earlier.

he was basically codependent on your presence now, the day he'd spent away from you felt like an eternity.

he couldn't sleep. he'd laid in his bed dozens of times at this point, shutting his eyes, covering his ears, even trying to hum to himself. nothing worked.

he finally couldn't take it anymore, he found himself walking to your room. his hand hovered over the door, until he finally knocked. at no reply, he assumed you were asleep, though he heard the shuffling of feet inside. ‘this will make it easier.’ he thought, as he whispered and figured he'd pour his feelings out to you, response or not. his hand splayed against your door, palm pressed against the oak of the wood as he began.

“[name].” he heard the shuffling of feet stop. “i.. i have.. feelings for you. ones that i shouldn't have. i care for you deeply. and– i think i love you.” he was still as he waited for something, anything from you.

he let a small smile overtake his face, his hand falling from the door and going back into his pocket. “g’night, [name].” he went back into his room, finally able to rest now that he felt he got his feelings off his chest.

his heart was racing, he still didn't know if you felt the same. you said nothing, which was expected. he did drop a bomb on you all of a sudden. he finally drifted to bed.. not hearing the open and closing of your door. and not seeing that it was your mother who he had confessed to, not you who was currently asleep in her mother’s bed.

your mother pondered over his words, smiling at just how hopeless you two truly were. she caressed your hair once more, falling asleep beside you as she decided.

you'd have to go, and you'd be dressed like royalty in your own right.

your hair was ruined. you groaned as you caught an eye of yourself in one of the many mirrors in this part of the chambers, some of your friends laughing at the sight of you. this last day would be busy, too busy. it'd be your last day as katsuk’s servant, and you'd barely be able to see him.

you pouted, waltzing around the chambers mindlessly until your mother arrived behind you.

“[name], let's go. you have fittings for the bash tomorrow.” she grabbed you before you could voice your disapproval, taking you to your room. though she let go of you and walked into your room. you mindlessly went to katsuki’s room, wanting to be at his side at least once before tomorrow. at no reply to your knock, you excused yourself before walking in, only to be met by the sight of a messy room. empty. you cleaned his room up a little bit, making the task for his future servant a bit easier.

you left his room, laying on your bed before you saw gorgeous dresses that could probably buy your life two times over.

“mother, i don't even think i'll go tomorrow.”

“you have to, dear.” she grabbed your hand, “the prince would want you there alongside you. just like how you've been all his life.”

you looked to the floor, “but he sent me away..” your mother responded by nudging your head up. “he still cares for you. your absence is going to be odd for him, don't you think he was just trying to protect himself?”

you sighed and shrugged, “i guess i'll go then, if not, then to tie off loose ends.” you eyed the three dresses in front of you, and chose the one woven in silks and lace of your favorite color. “that one,” you pointed to it.

“i'll choose that one.”

…

funnily enough, as you walked into the bash and found yourself drinking punch, those were the words you'd felt the most fear of hearing. you fit right in alongside the princesses of other lands scattered across the hall, making lines to go speak to katsuki, who was absentmindedly staring at a wall. he looked like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world, but as his eyes locked on to your moving form towards the balcony, he excused himself.

“[name].” he called out to you, making you turn around and smile softly. “katsuki.”

“you look.. amazing.” he complimented, moving closer to you. “thank you for.. uh.. coming.”

“of course, future king. i'll stay by your side 'til

the end of tonight.”

he nodded. “right.” he sighed once more, something he seemed to do a lot around you now. “[name], did you hear me the other night?” he asked, looking into the distant forests surrounding the castle. at the shaking of your head, he continued, “i.. i just really care for you. that's all i want you to know.” he didn't look at you, he didn't think he could handle it right now. even from the vision of his peripherals, the glistening of your skin in the sun that slowly departed, the dress that matched you both in personality and in beauty, the smile that overcame your lips. it was a vision that would live in his dreams eternally.

“i care for you too katsuki.”

he finally turned to face you, he smiled, before opening his mouth to speak. only to be cut off by the sound of an obnoxious trumpet. he was to make his choice. “go.” you said, pushing him inside. your eyes burned as realization set into you, you'd ran out of time.

he was pushed to the center of the hall, all the princesses facing him with practiced smiles. courtesy's and bows that made him feel odd. the crown on his head had never felt so heavy, so burdened as now.

he looked over to you, the words everyone spoke pushed to the back of his mind as you sent an encouraging thumbs up his way. he knew you though, the look on your face was one of underlying sorrow.

even in this room full of people, even in the whole world large and vast, he'd always choose you.

so, when the room was silent and awaiting his answer? he pointed to you, making your breath hitch and eyes go wide.

you pointed to yourself, looking around before mouthing, ‘me?’ to which he mouthed, 'yes, idiot.’

you made your way towards him, eyes wide as everyone gasped. you weren't a royal, evident by the lack of jewelry adorning you.

“[name], it's always only been you. will you rule beside me?”

your eyes grew impossibly wider, pupils dilated to the max as a blush overtook your face. “..you're serious?”

“yes, i am.”

“i– is this even allowed?”

“my parents,” he gestured over to them, who sent polite smiles towards her. “they know about it, i sat down with them yesterday. i'm serious about this. i'm serious about you.”

“but what abou–”

“fuck everything else. this is about you and me.”

“do you accept, ms. [name]?” the bard asked, all eyes on you as, though you only looked into katsuki’s.

“if he'd have me, i'd be honored.”

he wordlessly asked you, and with a tilt of your head you prompted him to kiss you. though it was belated, the hall filled with cheers for the two of you.

“well,” the queen beckoned you two to her side, your hands intertwined as you stood in front of her. “this is surely a first, however.. it is undoubted that ms. [name] and her family have proved their loyalty and dedication to the kingdom.

therefore, we have no objection. masaru?”

“yes mitski.”

they both got up, the king wielding a sword as he stood next to you. katsuki helped guide you to the floor, he was on one knee as he was sworn in.

sworn in as king by your side.

the sword tapped his shoulders gently, a crown being brought out on a pillow and placed upon his head as you looked in awe, as an equally gorgeous one was placed unto yours.

“katsuki, i entrust our kingdom to you. with all of our people in the hands of you, and of course, your trusted wife.”

“i understand.” he said, bowing his head down to his father.

“[name].” the queen called to you, filling you with a sense of urgency. “yes my queen?”

she laughed, before taking a moment to whisper in your ear. “mitski is fine.” she cleared her throat, before continuing. “you will be a dedicated servant any longer, tomorrow you will wake up as the queen of our kingdom my dear. please, do your best to guide our king, and set the kingdom onto a path of prosperity.”

“thank you my– mitski. i will.” you bowed deeply, before you were helped up by katsuki once again.

you walked out the hall with katsuki at your side, the weight of the crown a shared experience between you two.

“‘suki.” the nickname lost to time finds itself back on your lips as you're led to his room, though this was the first time in years that it was out of familiarity, not work.

“[name].”

“thank you.”

“for what?”

“risking it all.. doing all that. it was.. indescribable.”

“.. it was worth it for you. i'd– i'd do anything for you. now we can make up for lost time. i really

missed you these last days.”

“i did too, god i was a wreck without you.”

“you wouldn't believe how bad i was without you.”

it seemed practiced, as if you'd done it a million times when he gestured for you to follow him to his bed. the way you melted into each other was unimaginable, not even the discomfort of your corset getting in the way of how he made you feel, though you'd gotten up to change.

now wearing house wear, clothes you'd never imagine you'd be wearing in his quarters, you laid next to him, the same moon shining brightly upon the two of you as he held you.

his head was on top of yours as you shared this wordless embrace, one that spoke thousands of words you'd need not to speak.

a kiss, one you'd both never though you'd get to share, especially not in his very own bed, was all that left the two of you as you settled into each other for the night.

you'd begun a servant and ended as queen, ranks though meant nothing to you, for your only wish was to stay eternally by his side.

a wish you both fought for.

tags: @gold24fish @nemisimp

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bravo4iscool · 1 year ago

Note

Some benedict bridgerton with daphne's handmaid? Like sneaking notes and hidden glances

uhhhhhh i like this hehehehe. i hope i wrote it the way you imagined it🫶🏼

(masterlist)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

“what is that?“ daphne asks when you fumble with a piece of paper. your head shoots up and you immediately try to hide it, crumbling it in your hand.

“nothing miss.“ you swallow and put your hands behind your back.

daphne only laughs and shakes her head. “with you blushing like this it is not nothing, is it?“ she tilts her head. “do you have a lover?“ she wants to know, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

your eyes widen at that question. “no, i—“ you stutter, not knowing what to say. it would not be right to lie to her, would it? “well, yes…but—“

“oh how wonderful!“ daphne interrupts you, clapping her hands in excitement. “who is it? do i know him? is he another servant?“ she immediately asks and you—at first—are a little too perplexed to answer.

again you ask yourself if you should lie to daphne or not… you can not just tell her that the hastily scribbled—and beautifully written ‘your eyes steal my breath away’—note was from her older brother benedict. daphne would tell lady bridgerton and she would—she would straight up fire you… “i do not know who it is,“ you lie, your eyes darting to the ground.

daphne frowns before she breaks out in a mischievous grin. “then we will find your mysterious lover!“

benedict immediately locks his eyes with you when you walk into the drawing room, a tray with tea and biscuits in your hands. you try your best not to blush, to just ignore him and place the tray in front of violet bridgerton. the dowager viscountess warmly smiles at you, a kind ‘thank you‘ rushing past her lips. you curtly bow your head and retreat.

“would you mind asking the cook to prepare a sandwich for me?“ benedict‘s voice makes you stop and you take a deep breath now that you were forced to look at him. you could see the longing in his eyes and if you were in a different position you would find it lovely but you were a servant and he the second son of a viscount. you two were not supposed to work out.

so, you force a small smile and bow your head at him. “of course mr. bridgerton. i will tell the cook to make some for you. anything else you wish for?“ you look at him again and you can read in his eyes that he want to say ‘yes, i want you‘ but he only shakes his head and you take that as your sign to leave.

you know it was foolish to accept his efforts but you—at least once in life—wanted to know what love felt like, what it was like to experience, even though it was doomed to fail…

#writing #ao3 #fanfiction #archive of our own #story writing #bridgerton #bridgerton series #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict is a flirt #hidden glances and secret notes #servant!reader #benedict bridgerton x servant!reader

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pups-not-here · 2 years ago

Text

El Castillo de Encanto: Que Tú Eres Mi Destino

The Castle of the Enchantment: That You Are My Destiny

Each new gift given by the miraculous candle was meant to strengthen the community, strengthen the El Castillo de Encanto. To make the royal Madrigal family proud.

You work as a personal servant within the Royal Madrigal's family castle, but after the fall of the Castillo and rebirth of the miracle, your work plans change. Time to make the missing triplet feel at home once again.

The dictionary of my spanglish and bad timeline: - El Castillo de Encanto the casita in this version. - Reader is technically 22 years old. - I'm using a mix of a magical democratic monarchy and traditional Spanish, Colombian, and a dash of Downton Abbey

Chapter ambience: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLWbKf4YcAA

Fifty years ago, a newly widowed mother received a miracle. Pushed out of her home after the birth of her three children by the violent conflict of the Colombian civil war, she and her husband were forced to flee in hopes of finding a new home. Even as many joined them, they could not escape the dangers of warfare. The wife watched as her newly fathered husband was lost to the violence of war. But, even in their darkest moment, Alma Madrigal was given a miracle.

The candle she held became a magical flame that could never go out, and glowed brightly in that dark night. It blessed Alma Madrigal with a refuge in which to live. The magic made towering green, protective mountains over her and her people. It was a place of wonder, an enchantment. The miracle grew, creating a castle for her and her family to live in, El Castillo de Encanto. Their house, the castle itself, came alive to shelter them.

When her children came of age, the miracle blessed them with magic too. Passing down to them a magical gift to match the magical candle Queen Alma Madrigal was bestowed. And when their children came of age, that magic was passed through each generation. Together, the royal family's gifts have made the Encanto, truly, a paradise.

Each new gift given by the miraculous candle was meant to strengthen the community, strengthen the El Castillo de Encanto. To make the royal Madrigal family proud.

Each gift given to the Madrigal’s was just as special as they were.

~~~

When you wake up you do so to the sound of a ringing bell, loud and clanging to purposefully alert the women and men around you. You jump up so fast being so startled and smack your forehead on the wooden panel of the bunk above you. With a small hiss and rubbing your forehead, you stumble out of bed, grabbing at the clothes under your bed frame. The woman above you does too. Everyone around is scrambling to get their royal garb on, whispering in excitement.

Today we move back into El Castillo de Encanto! The Castle!

You had to admit how relieved you were. It was so cramped in this temporary arrangement the servants of the Madrigal family found themselves in while the magic was still weak. This was usually where the nuns from the church would stay.

Truly, a humble celibate life they live… You think to yourself as you use a silvery, shiny ribbon to quickly tie your hair into a low ponytail.

Ten years ago, the village of Encanto fretted over the state of the magic blessing when Mirabel Madrigal did not receive a gift like the rest of her family. Not even 24 hours later, one of the royal magical triplets in the second generation known as “Bruno, la maldición del destino” by most of the town, disappeared.

You were only 12 when this all happened, working alongside your parents as an apprentice of servitude. When you were 13, you were working alone without your parents anymore. You weren’t sure why they passed away so young.

You loved your parents. The Columbian political unrest was too much, most nights they could see the smoke billowing from other towns around them being lit aflame. When your mother got pregnant with you they had a hard decision to make, stay with their friends and family and be in their home, or leave to ensure the safety of their future daughter- you. They thought and thought until your mother was incredibly far along in her pregnancy and the smoke got closer and closer, until they could see orange in the village nearby. The flames licked upwards, burning the homes of innocent families. So, with nothing but a bag with a blanket and a mysterious letter that didn’t have a return address with directions, they set out to find the mysterious Encanto.

You still had that letter. You had practically memorized what it had written on it. In shiny golden metallic font, it stated, “The Encanto, home for anyone looking for refuge or a miracle. Follow the butterflies. Climb the forested mountain. It is waiting for you.” They did. Somehow, they told you, they found it. It was almost like being lost and blinking and suddenly realizing where you’re going. They walked by the butterflies they saw. They took the nights in the cover of the jungle forests. They hiked up mountains.

They actually saw the castle, and almost as if it was meant to be, your mother went into labor. You remembered sitting there and listening to this story as a child with wonder coursing through your veins. The magical royal family was alerted to them as newcomers, and they took pity on your mother and father. You were born inside the castle, brought into the world by none other than her Majesty Juileta Madrigal. The Madrigals favored your parents' perseverance and love for you as their daughter. They were personally assigned to be paid and housed as servants of the Madrigal family.

Which, in the Encanto, was a very good job many of the villagers would be envious of.

Your mother became Juileta’s personal servant. Your father, Bruno’s. You would remember how your mom would come back to the servants quarters with a smile on her face and a treat for you. Your father… Typically would come back looking worried and flop on his bed for a minute before winding down and being his usual self.

When you were 5 that was when the apprenticeship started happening. Nothing really like backbreaking work, the servants usually never had to do that. You followed in your parents footsteps and worked to be a personal servant. The Madrigals had servants for everything. Teachers, babysitters, clothes, cooking, training- anything! A passion could easily be followed. Like your mother and father, from a young age you really liked order. You liked cleaning, putting things in place, choosing outfits and hairstyles or decorating rooms to be more cozy.

When Mirabel came of age for her gift, and the ceremony was a disaster as she didn’t even get a gift, your mother and father seemed both distraught. Then, Bruno disappeared. Your father suddenly and immediately declined. He wouldn’t get up for his servant job from his bunk. He only spoke to you and your mother. You couldn’t even think of how many times he whispered “you know I love you, right?” to you and your mother every night. You knew he blamed himself for Bruno disappearing, perhaps. Maybe he thought he should’ve done a better job? You didn’t know. You were too young to know.

Your mother passed first, however. You remember her waking up really early that day and whispering “I love you mi luna” to your dad, kissing his cheek before leaving. You don’t know exactly what happened. You think maybe a stroke. But your mother passed while working, and it was so quick Juileta couldn’t get to her in time to heal her.

When your father heard the news he was devastated. He held you that night. When you woke up to get breakfast you came back to him cold, and lifeless, still in his bunk. You knew he died of a broken heart.

You wished to have a love like your parents. A marriage like them. But ever since they passed you have focused on working and being the most reliable servant in the Castillo. Because of that, at the ripe young age of 13 you were assigned to La Riena Alma’s biggest mess.

Mirabel Madrigal.

Her Queen Alma Madrigal found the gift-less grandchild to be a pain, invisible, not as special as the rest of the magical family. When she saw how hard you worked even at your age and everything that had happened she grew content with making you the girls permanent personal servant.

You didn’t complain.

By then she was 7. And Mirabel was the kindest, funniest, little girl you had ever met. You practically raised her. You studied with her after her educational servant would let her out for the day, you bathed her and made sure her hair was shiny, you cleaned her glasses and taught her how to step on every stone in the Castillo without putting a foot on a crack.

It broke your heart to see how badly Mirabel wanted to help the family even without a magical blessing like her siblings and cousins. You would go into town with her sometimes and watch the villagers practically ignore her. You hated it. But you tried everything in your power to make sure that Mirabel was happy, gift or no gift. She was special to you. A soul sister.

When you turned 18, because of how well you handled Mirabel, her majesty Queen Madrigal named you head of servants. Honored, and feeling privileged, you worked even harder. But despite everything you did it felt like the family tension with Mirabel and the hush hush about “ese desgraciado Bruno diablo” grew more and more.

Until the magic completely failed.

When Isabela Madrigal had a very unsuccessful, chaotic proposal from the village favored Guzman family son, Riena Alma ordered you to take all the servants away to a temporary housing arrangement at the church. She made sure to scream about how the magic is strong and the candle will never burn out.

It did.

The Castillo literally crumbled to the ground. Turned into a pile of rubble with barely known remnants of what was once a glorious castle. Mirabel disappeared. Horrified you spent hours with the Madrigals searching for her in this devastated state. The magic was gone, the blessing was no more, and it would seem only a miracle could fix the internal damage within the familia Madrigal and the hope of the villagers.

Thankfully. She did come back. On horseback, with her Abuela Alma and a figure no one ever expected to return.

Bruno.

Reunited with her family, Mirabel single handedly encouraged the entire Encanto to hope in miracles again. A month of hard work from everyone made the Castillo be rebuilt in the same glory it was before. And when Mirabel added the final touch of a doorknob, the miracle became restored. The bright golden lights and sparkles and swirls of colors that made their way up through the stone of the Castillo and rooted themselves in the ground under the whole village's feet was a sight to only behold in a state of awed wonder.

It was a day of celebration. You took Mirabel’s hands and danced with her in celebration, cheering, saying “I knew you could do it! You are so much more special than you realize!!” The new miracle bestowed another blessing on the land, one that united everyone in communication and a desire to be better and let go of the biases of the past and make a better future.

You blinked rapidly from your thoughts when your bunk mate called for you over her shoulder, “Hey! Líder sin miedo, c’mon! You’re going to be late moving into your ‘elite servant’ room!”

You laugh and sprint towards her and outside of the cramped sleeping quarters, “As long as I get top bunk this time!!!

~~~

Your joke earlier was meant as a joke and when you got to the castle everything went even more smoothly. Luckily, you did not need a bunk mate. Upon uniting with their respective Madrigal family members, each servant was either on the giving or receiving end of a magical hug.

Mirabel threw herself at you and you at her, both of you embracing in a fit of giggles, dancing from side to side in the tight hug. When the girl pulls away she pushes her glasses up her face and smiles at you as if she was still the humble, giftless girl she was before and not the restoration of a miracle.

Her humbleness still made her excitedly help you get settled into your quarters. They were nice. You had a room alone to yourself, with a queen sized bed and your own personal bathroom, bookcase, desk, wardrobe, and drawers. Mirabel didn’t shut up the whole time she helped you get moved in, excitedly talking about the magic and then moving on to the most surprising topic to most of the other servants.

Her tío Bruno.

She excitedly explained to you how he was “weird, but not like, weird weird like more like just kinda nutty weird not like super evil weird.” Which honestly made you chuckle a little.

“So master Bruno is awkward?”

“Yeah!” Mirabel lit up, still talking like a madman, which you loved. You really did like it when someone was excited to talk about something. It was sweet how passionate they would get. And you loved Mirabel, and so each nod and hum you gave in reply to her rambling was entirely genuine.

She explained how short Bruno was. How he lived in the abandoned dungeon and the walls of the Castillo, with his only friends being the rats in there. She even explained his embarrassing habit of using them to make his own little personal plays so he would be entertained all cooped up in there.

You giggled, only drawing on what your father’s experience was with him. He explained Bruno was always well meaning but prone to being really unlucky himself. He always tried to convince you as a young girl that Bruno wasn’t as scary as everyone made him seem.

Standing at 5’3, being 50 years old, and looking so skinny for his age- yup. You believed him and Mirabel well over the village folk and Camilo’s shallow seven foot interpretation of his uncle.

Mirabel went on to explain how much he loved the Encanto, the Madrigal monarchy itself, and each and every one of the family members. How he aided her in seeing the future to help save the miracle. She made sure to put a lot of emphasis on how he seemed to be the only adult she had ever met (“aside from present company, of course,” she made sure to add, winking at you) who treated her with respect. Like he understood her wishes and desires and demands and even if he was scared he knew what was for the best despite the wishes of the f amily to remain “fine”. After her emotional banter about him she got more into his appearance.

By then you were following behind her with your back straight, clasped hands held at your belly button height, resuming the perfect personal servant posture as you did before the collapse. Your tied up hair billowed behind you as you kept a strong, certain stride. You wanted to make sure you kept working that hard and pouring everything you had into this job even if the family seemed more lax. You were the Head of Servitude, after all.

“He has this crazy slouch. You know, like the kind you see little gárgolas standing in. Oh! And he always rings his hands or waves them around- real expressive with them, ya know?” Mirabel walked, talking to you over her shoulder, “He is all gangly like he doesn’t know where to put his limbs sometimes. You know what I mean- like a growing adolescente. He seems to not understand where to place his feet.” Mirabel walked the memorized path to her room, not stopping a moment during all of this, “When the castle was rebuilt he immediately went to bed. He wasn’t awake this morning if you didn’t see- in fact I bet he’s still in bed, durmiendo todo el dia, jeez, what an old man. Well I guess it’s not that big of a deal, he doesn’t really like using his gift anyways.”

When she stopped in front of her door she turned to you, a smile still on her happy little face. You chuckled, and spoke, “What a glowing review for your regio uncle.”

“I know right!” Mirabel giggled and moved her hips and legs so her brightly colored skirt swung back and forth. You stepped up next to her with a soft smile, making her turn towards her bedroom door and reach for the handle, “Now it’s your turn to help me move in!” She gave you a sly smile, knowing you would love this detail, “I need a lot of help decorating.”

Your eyes lit up in happiness, your face not revealing it in its entirety but a small smile did form on your lips.

You grabbed the door knob with her, “What are we waiting for then?!”

Mirabel laughed.

The next week went on with the Madrigal family settling back into the Castillo with as much grace and understanding under the new miracle Mirabel had created. Unfortunately, because Mirabel was the creator of this miracle you found yourself not her personal servant as often anymore. It meant you had to resume the extra duties of head of servitude (which, admittedly, were not as fun as goofing around with Mirabel all day).

You usually wake her up most days. It meant a good morning routine and a great way to start off the day as she would sing while you fixed her hair and tended to her curls. Her eyes would scrunch behind her glasses as you scolded her for being such a “wiggly worm” and “oruga tonta”.

So often her Majesty the Queen Alma Madrigal would come into Mirabel’s room in the morning. You would have to take a step back as your mistress would run up to her abuela and kiss her cheek and ask her how she slept. It was clear that they had repaired their relationship and were eagerly growing it as the days went on.

“Might I borrow the room, miss?” Reina Alma had asked of you on the first morning back in the saddle.

You bowed, “Yes your su Majestad,” You kept your head down in proper etiquette with your hands placed together at your midsection, walking past the queen with kindness.

You were anxious. Mirabel was whisked away more and more by her grandmother, and while you were so excited for her you knew what it meant. Less time with you! What you saw as your little sister was finally growing up and it pained you a little. You didn’t know why. You practically felt like her second mom. You watched her grow from lost in the world to understanding her place.

Perhaps you wished to continue to have that life guidance for her. It gave you a lot of meaning.

When Mirabel was advising her grandmother, you busied yourself with the other tasks demanded of your head of servitude job. That included but was not limited to meal preparations, cleaning, making beds, washing laundry, explaining to Camilo that he has to understand that he cannot go into the female servants quarters even if he was “technically a female servant right now”, and finding meaningless ways to make even more spaces within the Castillo aesthetically appealing.

There were a few times in that week you would reorganize a room just for the heck of it to give you some purpose, and Castillo’s tiles and walls would shift, rattling and making a satisfying domino effect, pushing the furniture back into its proper places. This was often accompanied by a sigh, because you knew Castillo could tell you weren’t doing it for your job, but rather, for your own fulfillment.

It was getting boring. You loved your job, but it seemed without purpose. Mirabel was growing up and doing what she was born to do- be the real miracle.

You found yourself often going back to Julieta or Agustin during this time to assist them- Agustin because he was always clumsy and needed help with something, Julieta because you could never shake the feeling that she felt like “mom”. About halfway through the week, an interesting conversation happened in the kitchen.

“Agustin appreciates the attention you’ve been giving him despite the fact he already has three personal servants to keep him out of trouble,” Julieta smiled at you, her down turned brown eyes warm as you mixed dough, her hands busy kneading it.

A lot of servants helped her cook, and they all bustled around with ingredients and bowls and utensils of all kinds. The smell in the kitchen was amazing, absolutely estupendo.

“Of course la dama, anything to help the amazing Madrigals,” You replied, smiling at her work. What a unique gift. All she needed to do was lay her hands on the food at some point or another in the process and have it possess that healing power.

“You might need to get used to it,” Daniela, a kitchen maid, skidded past, only a few years older than you. She put a bowl into the oven, using the fireplace poker to make sure the heat stayed consistent on the food, “I’ve heard Mirabel and her Majesty Reina Alma are getting close. Almost like she is her heiress.”

You paused, shooting her a glance as Julieta chuckled and shook her head a little, “Mamá still has some kick in her and Mirabel is still only a child, una adolescente, she’s just 15. That won’t be happening soon.” She looked down, and you noticed despite her words she had a giant, proud, motherly smile on her face for her daughter. Always in her corner, just like you.

“Still,” María, the second kitchen maid and Julieta’s own personal servant, butted in, “Soon to become a royal advisor I’m sure of it.” The older woman set a cutting board down and began to carefully chop up some fresh cilantro, “Perhaps even her own personal asesora real, considering all the advice she's giving Her Reina already,” María sounded more logical, as if stating the simple facts. She glanced up to look between you and Julieta.

“Probably due to be on the royal court this week alone,” Daniela chirped, ever the dramatic gossiper.

“I’d hope,” You burst, finally speaking up. You beat the liquids and powder in the bowl in front of you with much unbridled vigor that it became mixed as one within seconds, touching the rim and coating one of your thumbs with the batter, “After all these years pushing her to the wayside they finally recognize her talent- oh no! No longer a pequeña oruga, eating up resources and an unpleasant sight. But no, now she's a una hermosa mariposa, glowing with a new miracle… As if she wasn’t already and wasn’t that always!”

The kitchen completely stills. Both maids and her majesty Juileta all stare at you and the paused image of your aggressively beaten batter and downcast gaze.

You take your hands off the bowl, lower your head so your scalp is visible to the royal Madrigal in the room, bowing with your hands clutched at your midsection, “I beg your pardon mi señora, I don’t know what got into me.”

Julieta gives you a small, sympathetic look. She nodded to her two other maids, and both resumed their duties as if not being bothered at all. She turned to you, putting a gentle, caring hand on your tense shoulder, “My dear, levanta la cabeza,” she put a hand under your chin and tilted it up to meet her eyes, “Let’s have a moment, shall we? To the pantry, let’s go.”

Julieta led you with a hand on your back in the most mothering way you could imagine, whispering, “Danos un momento, ladies,” to her maids as she took you into the pantry closet, closing the door behind her.

The smell of spices, fresh herbs, and dried meats and proteins hit your nose the moment you were inside. You turned to her majesty, scrambling, “I’m so sorry. I feel she is slipping away from me-”

“Shh! Shh…” Julieta gently calmed you, rubbing soothing circles on your back, “Honey, I would know how you’re feeling. I’m her mother. Mirabel deserves this, yes, but it feels so whip-lashed for sure.. One moment she comes crying to your side and now she is the heart of the Encanto, what keeps the magic breathing and alive..” she gazed proudly at nothing in particular, before blinking rapidly and looking back at you. “But I know you, and I know this is more than that.”

You sigh softly, “I just… if she moves on, gets all this power and fulfillment… mine will go. What will I do as my job? Will I ever be happy in my job again?” You shrug then turn your head to the side, not meeting Juileta’s gaze, “Would I have to resign as head of servitude? Leave my job?”

“Gracious mija! Calm down…” Julieta frantically grabbed one of your hands, making your head turn back to her.

She gave a worried look, lips pursed and one corner pushed up. Her warm chocolate colored eyes gazed at you for a moment, making sure you were calm and adding extra comfort by being warm and assuring, before she continued to speak, “We all love you here in the Castillo.” She squeezed your hand softly, “If you were to leave I’m sure the other servants and half of the Madrigal’s ourselves would riot-“

This caused you to laugh a little, making Julieta’s smile grow a little bigger. She went on, “You were destined for this, I held you in my hands as an adorable bebita right here in the walls of the El Castillo de Encanto, and you love it! Why leave?”

“Because I don’t know what’s going to happen and I feel out of control,” you breathed, rushing it out as you gazed at Julieta genuinely. Your brows were furrowed so tight in fear of the admittance and the vulnerability you were in at that moment. You knew your forehead wrinkles probably look ridiculous looking back on it.

Julieta stared at you a moment, her eyes almost looking confused before they lit with a spark of understanding, “Ah…” She brought you in for a hug, “Oh mija… do not carry that on your shoulders… you were a little girl… there was no way you could control anything…”

You knew she was talking about your mom and dad.

“You think… that’s where this started?”

“Yes bebita,” she pulled away from the hug with a small smile, “It was how your mother and father coped too. When they were stressed they ran to control.. rules and order. Sí, I think that’s it for you. You like to feel in control because you felt so out of control when that happened. I’m letting you know right now you can relax, honey. The Madrigal’s and Mí Sobregoneta Familia will always take care of you. Come, come, let’s finish cooking dinner-“

You nodded, trying to lean into her words. It made sense in your head but your stomach felt uneasy still. However, logically you knew her majesty was right. Julieta could read you as if you were one of her own daughters.

By the time dinner had been served your rapidly beating heart had quieted and your mind was at a little bit more ease.

However, your boredom and lack of personal servitude would soon come to a screeching halt.

“I now announce you as his majesty Bruno Madrigal’s personal servant.”

Queen Alma Madrigal was smiling with her chin up, crown glistening, and back straight with each of her hands placed together in front of her.

You looked similar. A perfect straight back with knees slightly bent in a bow and knuckles white from gripping your hands together at your middle. However, you didn’t have a smile. You knew your eyes were big and face drained of color.

That morning started out how it usually did. How it always did. Waking Mirabel up and singing with her as you gently put oils into her curly hair. You decided to brush it back and keep the top of her hair in a cute little ponytail. The sun was warm, and her giggles were sweet, and she had no malicious intentions in her eyes behind those green glasses while she excitedly exclaimed she had a surprise for you.

When Reina Alma entered the room you bowed as you usually did, not a wrinkle in your skirt nor a stutter in your posture. However, it was when they both opened their mouths and had you rise from your bow that things got very very off schedule.

More so, completely flipped around.

And now her majesty Queen Alma Madrigal has assigned you a whole new job after the one you had exclusively been in since you were a teenager.

“Oh geez please don’t look like that!” Mirabel walked over to you and grabbed your upper arms, making you look at her. She gave her usual dorky smile, “This is literally perfect for you!”

“Mí mijo,” Alma stepped forwards, whispering as she took a more casual stance with you- something so surprising since the Queen really, really cared about her royalty and the whole strict regime that went with it, “He’s… Struggling. He is always late to family dinner. He’s not getting up on time. He’s too nervous to use his gift and to go out into town. We have tried what we can to convince him, and he…” she stopped, swallowing, looking at her granddaughter.

The bright butterfly continued for her royal family member, “He refuses a personal servant. I think he’s just shy. Maybe embarrassed. And probably really scared.” She smiled at you softly, pushing up her glasses and continuing, “He really needs some order and routine right now.”

Okay, now she was clearly trying to cater to you.

Queen Alma stepped forward and stooped down a little to your eye level so you could see her scalp, placing her royal, magical hand on your shoulder and it made you feel so humbled. However, she herself humbled instead, looking into your eyes and meekly begging, “You did such a wonderful job making sure Mirabel grew up, despite my best efforts, knowing she was good enough and could be happy.” You relished a little bit in how the Queen openly admitted her faults when it came to Mirabel, and you relished even more in the small, soft, warm smile the two shared after her words. “You are so talented and wonderful at what you do. You clearly care for the El Castillo de Encanto, the magic itself, and our family. Extend your helping hand to me, once again, but allow me to ask for the betterment this time,” Alma moved to stand up straight, putting her hand under your chin with her fingers curled in so only the knuckle of her pointer finger gently nudged your chin upwards too, “Mí Brunito needs you. I believe your magic touch-“ her lips curled in a small smile making you smile too- “will break him out of his shell and let him relax in his new life. I want more than anything to let my son know he is valued by the Encanto, by our blessing, by our family, and more so, to be proud of himself the way I am now so much more proud of him.”

You let out a sigh exclusively from your nose, shutting your eyes for a moment.

Everything made sense. You had to let go of Mirabel. She is grown up now. You were being put in a position where you were needed most.

You thought of your dad. How he used to take care of Bruno. How he implored people to be kinder, how he saw his master and friends true nature and how it deeply distressed him when nobody would see it too.

You thought of what happened when Bruno disappeared.

You opened your eyes. You wanted to fulfill the legacy set before you by two people just as loving and passionate as you were.

You have a small nod, looking between both of the Madrigals, “I would be honored to take his majesty Bruno Madrigal as my master.”

Both of them smiled. Soon, there were four arms wrapped around you in a hug.

In the distance you heard the faint noise of sand in the wind.

Fair warning, future chapters will have smut. 18+ I will tag it when it's appropriate Correct me on any spellings, bad grammar, and ESPECIALLY on poor translation. Thoughts? Feelings? If you have none: what kind of royal would *you* be?

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noirscript · 3 months ago

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in the lion's keep

WARNING/S: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Yandere. Noncon. Dubcon. Power Imbalance. Forced Pregnancy. Captivity. Manipulation. Psychological and Physical Control. Violence. Emotional Distress. Character/s: King Callixto x Servant!Reader Note/s: A commission for @violetvase. I hope you enjoy this one!

From this series: Silent Servitude [pt. 1] | The Lion's Shadow [pt. 3]

Tip Jar | Commissions

Your mother has always been your biggest supporter.

She never once stifled your dreams, no matter how small or ambitious they were. When you insisted on selling flowers in the town square on behalf of the old florist to earn your own keep, she worried, but she did not stop you. Your parents feared for your safety, but your older siblings watched over you, making sure no harm would come your way.

It lasted for months—until children your age began disappearing, vanishing one after another without a trace.

Your siblings stopped letting you leave the house after that. The warm sun, the scent of fresh bread in the marketplace, the laughter of the townsfolk—it all became distant, mere memories behind locked doors. You were forced to watch the world from behind wooden shutters, longing for the life you had barely begun to taste.

Years passed before they finally deemed it safe enough for you to step outside again. And when you did, you threw yourself into rebuilding.

With what little savings you had, you opened a food stall in the marketplace, selling treats that made both children and adults smile. Your business thrived. Customers returned with praises, telling you how much they enjoyed your cooking. It gave you a sense of purpose, a taste of the independence you had long craved.

Then, one night, your stall was stolen

Not just stolen—destroyed. Burned to ashes near the town's tavern.

No one saw anything. No one heard anything. No one even smelled the smoke.

The loss devastated you, snuffing out the fragile hope you had so desperately clung to. When you fell deeper into despair, your mother was the one who lifted you back up. She taught you the skills she had learned from years of working in the palace—how to clean, how to serve, how to navigate the world of nobility without drawing attention to yourself. You listened. You learned. And when she deemed you ready, you followed in her footsteps.

You had thought you were stepping toward a new beginning.

Instead, you walked straight into a gilded cage.

A warm calloused hand rubs slow circles over your bare stomach. Your body is sore, ruined, yet the touch is deceptively gentle—reverent even.

Callixto.

The King.

The man who had stolen you, body and soul, and refused to let go.

His breath is hot against your neck as he presses his lips there, inhaling you like a man intoxicated. He traces his fingers up your stomach, over your ribs, cupping your breast with possessive ease. You squeeze your eyes shut, bile rising in your throat as last night's memories resurface—the way he held you down, the way he filled you over and over until you were too weak to fight him.

“You're perfect,” he murmurs, rolling his hips against your back. “You'll be a wonderful mother to our children. The mother of my heirs… My queen.”

No.

Your breath shudders as you push weakly at his arm, but you might as well be trying to move stone. Your body betrays you—limp exhausted, drained of all strength.

How long has it been?

Days? Weeks?

You can't tell. The chamber windows are tinted, making it impossible to see the sun or the moon. And Callixto… Callixto never leaves your side for long. He lingers, watching you, touching you, whispering sweet, poisonous words into your ear.

The chambermaid is no help, either.

She either glares at you with thinly veiled disdain or ignores you completely, doing only what is required of her. You don't know why she hates you, but it doesn't matter. She's your warden all the same.

There's no one here for you. No mother, no siblings. No bustling marketplace or warm, flickering hearth waiting for you at home.

There's only this prison.

And him.

“Your Majesty,” the chambermaid's voice cuts through the heavy silence. “Lord Soleil awaits you at the gates.”

Callixto tenses, as if irritated by the reminder that the outside world still exists beyond these walls. His fingers dig into your hip as he thrusts forward once more, a sharp, punishing movement that sends a fresh wave of nausea rolling through you.

He finishes deep inside you, groaning against your skin. For a moment, he stays there, reveling in the feeling. Then, with agonizing care, he pulls out—only to press his fingers back inside, pushing his seed deeper.

A shiver wracks your body.

“I suppose I've stolen enough time for myself,” he murmurs, brushing damp hair away from your face.

You force yourself not to flinch.

Callixto cups your chin, tilting your face towards his. His golden eyes burn with something twisted, something sickeningly sweet. Then, he kisses you. A deep, lingering kiss that suffocates you more than any chain ever could.

“Stay here and be good,” he orders, his lips still brushing yours. “Let the chambermaid take care of you until I return.”

As if you have a choice.

As if you ever had a choice.

And when the doors finally close behind him, your body sags into the mattress, silent tears slipping down your cheeks.

Not just for yourself.

But for the family you may never see again.

For the freedom that may never return.

And for the life that is no longer your own.

The towering walls of the chateau couldn't keep the rumors from reaching you. They were the only thing that kept you sane while you waited for him to return.

You heard whispers about a grand ball the Prime Minister held a few nights ago. It should've been a night of celebration, but instead, it ended in scandal. His wife, a noble woman and the daughter of a count, was caught in bed with a mere footman—nothing more than a commoner.

Lord Soleil, the Prime Minister, himself had walked in on them. The punishment was swift.

The footman was cast out with nothing, and the Prime Minister cut all ties with his wife and her family, erasing them from his life as if they had never existed.

A cruel fate.

And yet you wondered…

Was it any crueler than yours?

“Perhaps this is why Lord Soleil was so determined to keep His Majesty away from the chateau—away from me. Not just to protect the royal bloodline, but to stop him from making the same mistake his wife did.” You sighed, your breath barely disturbing the still air.

“I can't even blame him. If I were in his position, I wouldn't want a common-born woman anywhere near the throne either. And yet, here I am—trapped in these gilded walls, reduced to nothing more than a vessel, waiting for the day my body finally serves its purpose.”

You leaned against the cool stone wall near the tinted windows, listening to the little birds outside as they carried rumors flitting between the flower beds. Their chatter was a fleeting distraction, a fragile moment of stolen peace—until it was shattered by the sound of heavy boots echoing through the halls.

The doors flew open, and there he stood. The King. Furious.

He called out your name—sharp, urgent, unrelenting—his voice slicing through the chateau hollow corridors like a blade. You didn't move. You barely even breathed. Instead, you pressed yourself against the cold stone wall, your fingers curling into your dress as his footsteps thundered across the marble floors.

He ran upstairs, frantic, taking the steps two at a time. He hadn't even noticed you standing near the windows, so close yet unseen. But you knew it wouldn't last. He always found you in the end.

Outside, the world had fallen eerily silent. The chattering birds had already fled the vicinity, as if sensing the storm brewing within these walls—taking their half-spun whispers with them. The rumor of the king's impending nuptials to a high-ranking noble still lingered in the air, unspoken yet suffocating.

And soon, he would come back down. And this time, he would see you.

Your name tore from his lips again—a furious, desperate plea. Before you could react, his hands found you, his grip ironclad around your arms.

“Where have you been?” His voice was raw, unsteady. His fingers dug in. “Didn't you hear me calling for you?”

“Y-Your Majesty…”

He shook his head. “No—my name.”

Bloodshot, unfocused eyes bore into you. Something was wrong. His gaze sent a slow, creeping dread up your spine.

“Say it.”

“C-Callixto…”

A slow nod. Then, his arms crushed you against him. “You're mine,” he murmured against your hair, his breath searing against your skin. “Forever mine. And I will be forever yours.”

The walls seemed to shrink around you.

“Callixto… Your Majesty… I can't breathe—” you rasped, struggling against his suffocating embrace.

He didn't let go.

“Please…”

A beat of silence. Then, at last, he loosened his grip—but only slightly.

“Apologies, my queen,” he murmured, lifting your trembling hand to his lips.

Your pulse pounded in your ears. You had to calm him. You had to survive this.

You recalled your mother's old ways—how she soothed your father's anger, how she tamed your brothers’ tempers. Slowly, carefully, you reached for his cheek, brushing your fingers against his skin.

“Tell me your worries…”

“The royal court has been trying to push this woman onto me for as long as I can remember—something about securing the heir to the throne’s bloodline. The nerve of those fools,” he muttered, absently running his fingers through your hair as you lay atop him.

“If I wanted to, I could trace your family's lineage—alter it if necessary— and keep them out of our way.”

Listening to his monologue as you drift in and out of consciousness feels more exhausting than it should. You know you should try to persuade him to accept the will of his people, to yield to their demands—but deep down, you wonder if it would be easier if someone else had his full attention instead. If only he'd let you go.

“Perhaps we should secure an heir to the throne first… then we can look into your lineage…” he whispered, thrusting into you once more. His seed spilled from you as his movements grew more intense with every passing second.

Since then, it had become his ritual to fill you to the brim, keeping you in place—stuffed, trembling, and utterly his— until he was satisfied. Only then would he leave to rule his kingdom, but never without ensuring you remained exactly as he left you, his claim unmistakable. He controlled everything—the meals you ate, the tonics you drank—all carefully chosen to prepare your body for the sole purpose of carrying his heir.

You were his, and soon, you would bear proof of it.

It didn't take long for the signs to show.

The nausea. The exhaustion. The unbearable weight in your lower belly that told you something had taken root inside you.

And yet, luck has not abandoned you entirely.

Your chambermaid—a woman whose disdain for you was only rivaled by her loyalty to the royal court—had noticed. She must have. But instead of betraying your condition, she pressed a cold cloth to your forehead and muttered, “A commoner’s flu. Nothing more.”

A lie. A calculated one.

The King believed her.

But belief was fragile in a mind like his. It splintered easily.

His golden eyes flicked between the chambermaid and the royal physician, narrowed and gleaming, hungry for an answer that neither of them dared to give.

“Her color is pale,” Callixto murmured, pacing your chambers. His fingers twitched—fidgeting, trembling, curling into claws before stretching straight again. “She barely eats, barely moves. And yet you say it is nothing?”

The physician bowed his head. “It is a seasonal illness, Your Majesty. A touch of fever, some exhaustion—nothing that cannot be cured with rest.”

Callixto laughed—a dry, humorless sound. His nails dug into his palms, leaving little crescent moons of pain.

“Rest,” he echoed. His voice was a whisper of rage, of something darker crawling beneath his skin. “You think I have not noticed? She wilts before my very eyes, and you tell me to wait?”

The chambermaid stepped forward then, expression schooled into reluctant sympathy. “Your Majesty, she is weak. He kind does not fare well in the colder months. It is not surprising.”

Callixto stilled. His breathing slowed, deliberate, controlled—but his eyes never left her face.

“Weak?” The word came soft, almost thoughtful. “Is that what you believed?”

The chambermaid hesitated.

Something in the air shifted.

A warning.

Callixto's lips twitched—not in a smile, no. In something sharper. Something that showed his teeth.

“Fine,” he murmured. “If she must rest, then she will do so under your watchful eye. I want no one else near her.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

But as the King turned away, the chambermaid gaze flicked down—her fingers twitching at the pouch hidden beneath her apron. The weight of the promised coin.

The chateau felt emptier than ever one evening. The halls echoed with the distant clatter of preparations from the palace—the banquet, the foreign dignitaries, the noble guests.

A distraction.

And when the chambermaid entered your chambers, her usual sneer was absent. Instead, she carried a bundle of clothing.

“You need to leave tonight.”

Your stomach twisted. “Why?”

“Because I tire of wiping your sweat.” She threw the bundle onto your bed. “Because I want you gone.”

You swallowed hard. “And that's all?”

The chambermaid exhaled sharply. Something in her posture—something tired and worn—hinted at an answer she would never give.

“The palace gates will be open for the banquet. No one will be watching the chateau. Take the back corridors, follow the outer gardens. You are not important enough to be noticed.”

“What do you gain from this?”

A smirk tugged at her lips. “What I was promised.”

You should've asked by whom. But you didn't.

The scream shattered the night.

“WHERE IS SHE?”

The chambermaid barely had time to compose herself before the doors to your chambers slammed open, cracking wood against stone.

Callixto stood in the doorway, his chest rising and falling with each uneven breath. His pupils had swallowed the gold of his irises, leaving only thin rings of amber around black pits. His fingers curled at his sides, nails digging into his own skin, but he did not seem to notice the blood welling beneath them.

His gaze snapped to the bed. Empty.

Something inside him snapped with it.

“Where is she?” he repeated, stepping forward, his voice no longer a demand but a plea.

The chambermaid bowed, but her voice was steady. “Resting, Your Majesty. The fever worsened—”

“Liar.”

The word cut through the room like a blade. The chambermaid flinched.

Callixto's hands trembled. “She would not leave her bed unless someone forced her to,” he whispered. His tongue darted out, wetting his dry lips. “Unless someone… took her from me.”

He turned, suddenly—too suddenly—and grabbed the chambermaid’s wrist.

“You would not betray me, would you?”

The chambermaid swallowed.

“Of course not, Your Majesty.”

His grip tightened. Bones creaked.

“No, of course not,” he echoed, smiling now—serpentine, sharp. His head tilted. “Because if you had…” he leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. “I would tear this palace apart. Brick by brick. And when I found her—oh, when I found her—”

He released her.

“Find her,” he murmured. “Or I will find you instead.”

The chambermaid bowed, stepping backward toward the door. “As you command.”

But she didn't turn fast enough to see his lips curl into something… inhuman.

He turned back to the empty bed, trailing a hand over the sheets as if he could still feel you there. His fingers ghosted over where your head had once rested, then curled into the pillow, dragging it close. He inhaled—deeply, desperately—like a starving man before a feast.

His eyes fluttered shut.

“Oh, my love,” he whispered to no one. “You can run, but you cannot hide.”

The night air was crip—freezing against your cheeks, but blissfully free.

You ran. Through the outer gardens, past the dim lanterns, past the drunken guards too enamored with wine and revelry to notice a shadow slipping past them.

You ran until the scent of the palace faded into the trees.

Home. You had to go home.

But when you reached the village outskirts, you stopped.

Guards. Stationed outside your family's home.

You shrank into the shadows, heart hammering against your ribs. From where you hid, you could see the single candle in the window—dim, unmoving.

Not flickering.

Not alive.

A silent warning: Do not return.

Tears burned your eyes, but you forced yourself to turn away.

Not toward another village. Not toward a stranger's mercy.

But deeper into the forest.

Through the twisting paths only you knew, past the moss-covered stones and the brook where you once dipped your toes in summer. Past the memories. Past the ghosts.

And there, hidden beneath the tangle of overgrown branches, the shack still stood.

You and your siblings built it once—when you were small, when the world was gentler. A childish hideaway, pieced together from stolen nails and planks too weathered to be missed. A place of whispered secrets and stolen sweets, of giggling beneath a roof that bare kept the rain out.

It was nothing.

But it was enough.

You pushed the warped door open and stepped inside, the scent of damp wood wrapping around you like an old embrace. The cold bit at your skin, but you knew how to survive here. You always had.

With shaking hands, you pressed your back against the wall and slid to the floor.

Outside, the trees whispered.

Somewhere beyond them, the King was hunting.

But you would not be an easy prey.

Not here. Not yet.

—

tbc.

—

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afandomhopper · 5 months ago

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Popular BL Pairings in Non-BL K-Novels/Webtoons [MC Focus]

K-NOVELS

Omniscient Reader (Line Webtoon) [2018]

중독: Yu Junghyuk/Kim Dokja

그분독자: Secretive Plotter/Kim Dokja

Lout of the Count’s Family (Tappytoon) [2018]

최케: Choi Han/Cale Henituse

알케: Alver Crossman/Cale Henituse

My S-Class Hunters (Line Webtoon) [2018]

윻윶: Han Yuhyun/Han Yujin

현윶: Sung Hyunjae/Han Yujin

Return of the Blossoming Blade (Line Webtoon) [2019]

백청: Baek Cheon/Cheongmyeong

당청: Tang Bo/Cheongmyeong

The Greatest Estate Developer* (Line Webtoon) [2019]

하비로이: Javier Asrahan/Kim Suho

I Woke Up as the Villain (Tapas) [2019]

도진유성: Kim Dojin/Choi Yuseong

When the Third Wheel Strikes Back (Line Webtoon) [2020]

세드예서: Cedric Riester/Jung Yeseo

지브예서: Jibril Diop/Jung Yeseo

Debut or Die (Tapas) [2021]

앟문: Seon Ahyeon/Park Moondae

큰문: Lee Sejin (Keun)/Park Moondae

윶문: Cha Eugene/Park Moondae

랩문: Kim Raebin/Park Moondae

엋문: Cheongryeo/Park Moondae

Beacon of Light in the Dark Sea [2022]

해량무현: Shin Haeryang/Park Moohyun

재희무현: Kim Jaehee/Park Moohyun

The Hunter of the Other World is Being Misunderstood [2023]

창호기려: Kang Changho/Kim Kiryeo

하성기려: Jeong Haseong/Kim Kiryeo

Black Badger [2023]

윤힐: Choi Yoon/Hildebert Talev

예힐: Lee Yehyun/Hildebert Talev

Got Dropped Into a Ghost Story, Still Gotta Work [2024]

샇룻: Baek Saheon/Kim Soleum

솔샇: Kim Soleum/Baek Saheon

잫솔: Lee Jaheon/Kim Soleum

블솔: Braun/Kim Soleum

WEBTOONS

Tower of God [2010]

쿤밤: Khun Aguero Agnes/The 25th Bam

Lookism [2014]

재열형석: Hong Jaeyeol/Park Hyungseok

No Home [2018]

은영해준: Baek Eunyoung/Goh Haejoon

Garbage Time [2019]

준상: Seong Junsu/Ki Sangho

뱅상: Park Byungchan/Ki Sangho

종상: Choi Jongsu/Ki Sangho

Special Civil Servant** [2024]

이든마루: Seonwoo Eden/Han Maru

*note: the MC has a canon relationship with another character.

**note: the MC has canon feelings for another character.

UPDATES

15/02/2025: Filled in the pairings for Black Badger.

25/02/2025: Added the KR name for Kim Dojin/Choi Yuseong.

11/04/2025: Changed the title of the post.

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scara-writes · 1 year ago

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paramour

Yandere!Cheating Duke X Duchess! Reader X Yandere!Lover Servant

I just want to write a reader who has the same/more power as/to the yandere(s).

The setting is still in the fantasy/manhwa world, medivial, any setting as long it's not modern.

CW: two yandere, rivals, cheating, consent smut, infidelity.

I'm making the darling a little more forward(?), daring, more power or that can go against a yandere. Atleast, that's what the darling thinks. Also, this is not polished like my other stories.[ Forgive me, I'm not good with smuts! I also love y'all comments and your ask/request(will answer them soon!). The Yandere Emperor and Yandere Crown Prince son really outnumbered the yandere Omega. Y'all are crazy for that!]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"Mistress." He murmured. His arms hadn't let go off your waist. It was the first thing your eyes landed on when the sunlight came in to greet a new day from the window balcony. You closed your eyes again to find your way back to sleep again.

Your hands went to trace his back full of scar last night from your nails. You hummed when he gave you a pepper kisses on your exposed skin.

"Morning." He gave you one last kiss on your lips before snuggling between your chest. His arms hadn't move around your waist since last night."Mmmh..morning..." You muttered looking away—eyes still close—from the sun when it kissed your face.

"Do you want me to call the maids to serve you breakfast?" His sweet voice lull to sleep more. You whispered no. Last night, this man gave you something akin to that of heaven, something your husband never gave you.

Last night, you made love with this man. The same man you rescued from the human trafficking, kidnapping commoner from the outskirts of the kingdom. Now, indebted by your kindness he devout himself to you with his life.

You groaned, feeling your body is aching all over. This goes not unnoticed by your lover."Did I hurt you to bad?" He asked. His earth orbs are gleaming with shine and now getting filled with tears. "I-I'm sorry, I was rough with you mistress." His voice full of regret and loathe on himself.

You opened your eyes, ruffling his curly brown hair before stroking it. Staring down at his eyes. "No. You did good." You smiled at him, cupping his face, before kissing him in the lips. He whimpered,deepening his into yours.

The intoxication of alcohol must have taken over you. Drowning yourself from the alcohol beverages after your husband didn't arrive on the scheduled date, you waited for him for a whole day to arrive. Alone in the gazebo, Everett was the one who went to your weeping figure. That was a month ago. Everett offered himself to shower you with his love. At first you feel reluctant about this, you will never be the type of person to use someone just so you can feel yourself happy. Everett didn't care about it whether you use him or not. He wanted to prove himself that you are worth to be love. This man made your heart flutter in a way that your husband once gave you before the marriage.

"I-I love what happened last night, my mistress." He whispered bashfully, his pretty swollen lower lip,you bitten hard last night, went to reach his eyes giving you a wide smile. The sun kissed his tan face adding a charming look. His neck has full of bites and bruises from you. His cheeks become a little darker shade from blushing, he must have reminisced something last night.

Now, you made him your lover. Though not completely in love with Everett. You also shower him with items or materials that most commoners would love to have but it doesn't seem like this man is materialistic. He just wants you.

You didn't hide Everett to your husband.

What's the use of hiding your fling to Theodore when he was the first one to cheat on this marriage?

Despite being loyal to that man you loved. He had the audacity to tell you that you shouldn't pry on his private his life after you confronted him with a newly hired maid going out. "Our marriage contract states that the two parties should not meddle one another's private life else this contract shall be annuled."

So all of his flexing his love for you was nothing but a hoax? A show? A lure for you to agree to marry him?

Though, your marriage with him was for the politcial marriage. You once fell in love with Theodore. The same man who gave you flowers everytime you two date, the same man who kissed in your cheeks after he walk you home, the same man who always writes poems about his devotion to you. Did he pursuade you to continue this marriage by making you love him so that the two duchy became one? It may seem like you wanted this marriage at first. You didn't, your family wanted it and they have asked you—no annoyingly, they plead you to marry him, because your parents and his parents signed a contract that their children will reunite the two duchy.

"Your ladyship, the duke asked for your audience to join him in the breakfast." Your butler from the other side of your room, outside the door, knocked and speaks after. You frown upon hearing it, looking at the closed door, what does he want?

You feel strange about your husband nowadays. He had been asking for your presence this past few days. Never once he called for you after your wedding with him.

You clicked your tongue and turn to look at your lover. You notice Everett's face was frowning too. "Tell the duke that I will be there in a moment." You announced to the butler outside the room expecting the old man to gear you through it. You look back at the man leaning his weight on you. You tap the curly haired lover to let you go from his hold yet he didn't budge after moving yourself to sit up instead you heard yourself going 'oomfh!' and finding your lips were on his again. You groaned while he moaned weakly. He pushed you down on the bed, his lips never leaving yours until you were out of breath. A string of saliva trailed between your mouths. Everett was smiling before diving his lips into your skin, to one of your chest, fondling the other. You feel a little ticklish and panting at his stimulation. "Eve—! Wait! Ah..." Your voices went unheard, The male's mewling, sucking on to your flesh like thirsty man who hadn't had a drink.

Your hand went to tug his hair as you moaned out his name. "Shi—Eve... Oh! S-stop... Ah.."

His other hand goes to put one of legs above his back and parted the other leg, accessing himself between you even more."m-mistress!"

You groaned when you felt him grind between you. He looked at you with a pleading eyes, he look like he will cry again, the tears filling up yo the side from his eyes. "M-mistress." He whined his mouth was already in another mound. You feel his hardness between. "p-please? I'll be good! Please... huff..I'll make y-you feel good!"

Your eyes are hazy from the pleasure. "You want.. hah... it?" His eyes getting filled again with tears. You tug him by the hair not enough to hurt him. You landed your lips on his ears. Panting and breathless when you felt his hands is still fondling your body. "You got..ngh... to earn it, pretty boy." You murmurs made him whimpered. "You have to be my good boy... Are you my good boy?"

He nod, a tear fell down to his cheeks, he leaned down to your lips, murmuring, i-am-your-good-boys, thank-yous and I-love-yous.

The room filled with noises that could make anyone flustered and uncomfortable. You didn't realize from your high you are feeling that the butler is coughing uncomfortably behind the door excusing himself as he will inform the duke what you told him earlier.

You went down the stairs with a difficulty, aching between your thighs. You can't find any dress to cover the one hickey on your neck, Everett apologize and helped you cover it with a foundation but it failed horribly from covering seeing that the foundation wasn't blend well and you do not want your maids do it for you. Not when you found out that almost all of them had already been with your husband. You were planning to replace them sooner.

You stopped at the closed door leading to the dinning room. The butler from earlier straightened his posture, clearing his throat after he saw you. He announced your presence behind the door opening the door for you."My lord, your ladyship is here."

You walked in after thanking one of the male servant for pushing the seat for you once you sit across the lord of the household, your husband, the Duke.

The breakfast before you was served cold. If you have arrived earlier you could have eaten warm. You glance at your husband, surprised that his plate has not been finished and it looked like he didn't touched it. You noticed his eyes is trained on to you since you came in, yet his eyes isn't on you but to your neck and the way you walk earlier.

His grey eyes seemed to be narrowing, he scoffed. "You're late."

You glance away, picking one of the utensil, stabbing the meat, landing it to your mouth chewing it. You gulped it down before taking another bite. The marinated pork seems to be delicious even if the breakfast a little no warm.

"It seems you are enjoying with your toy a little too much." He added, there was anger rising beneath his voice.

Oh, the egg is a little bland but it is still edible nonetheless.

"There are more new reports about your speculated infidelity to the public. Do you know that?"

You looked at him after eating the last piece of the sunny side egg, smiling: finally acknowledging his presence."Yeah, what about it? It's not like it will ruin our marriage. After all, you had a numerous of headlines about your 'rumored' infidelity too. Did our contractwas nulled after that? It didn't right?"

"(Y/n)."

"Yes, husband?"

His eyes widened a little before going back on giving you death gaze. "Kick that slave away. I don't like him." He demanded. Though he wasn't shouting. You frowned, how dare he?

"Why would I? It's my decision whether I choose to throw him out or not."

"I do not want him near my property." He complained, gritting his teeth at the last word.

"This is my property as well!" You sternly answered back. Not leaving another room for an argument.

There was silence between the room.

"... I... don't want him near you." You heard him. You blinked at the sudden word that blurted in his mouth.

You scoff standing up, "I think I should finish my meal somewhere..." You starts walking back to where you enter the room.

"(Y/n)." Theodore called you. You didn't observe the way his eyes longed for you. You were focus on the anger within you. "Are we forgetting something, Theodore?" You questioned.

He pondered, those orb you used to love held a confusion.

"Meddling into your partner's private life will annul this marriage... Wasn't that written in our contract?" You bitterly told him. "Sounds familiar right? Do not dare demand me to throw away Everett." You added.

Finally waiting for this moment for this to happen. Guess he will get to taste his own medicine.

"... As long as we do our part in this household we will act as husband and wife. Is not that what you told me?"

"..."

"Now then, I will excuse myself. I have no longer desire to finish my breakfast here." With that, you leave him there.

When you reach the door, opening it, you were surprise to see Everett waiting outside. "What are you doing here?" You asked him. Your frowned face was replaced with a confusion look before giving him a small smile. The man infront of you return your smile with a small grin, placing one of his arm on your waist."W-well, I feel bored and alone in my own room. So I found myself waiting here w-with the butler. Besides I saw you walking wobbly earlier and I-I am concerned that you might have even more difficulty walking... So f-forgive me for not staying put." The look concern on his face adding the pout from his lips made him look cute.

"What are you a puppy?"You poke his nose giggling as you walk away with him, your eyes went back to talk to the butler. Telling him you want to continue your breakfast at your garden, asking him to make it for a two people. The butler bowing to your order before going to the kitchen area to order the maid.

Your husband on the other hand, loath with rage and jealousy mixing under his eyes. His eyes narrowed especially when the slave you brought in leaned on top of your head kissing at the crown part of your head, leaning to your ear to whisper something akin to sweet talks. The arm around your waist went to rub your back.

If only you glance again on Everett's face. You would have caught him giving your husband a smug smirk.

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tickled-p1nk · 1 month ago

Text

What the Heart Wants ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

CHAPTER 1 | RESPONSIBILITY AND REFUGE

⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆˙⟡ ✦

: ̗̀➛ a/n: yes sir this is a multi-chapter fic, did it start out that way? nope. did it end that way? yes. : ̗̀➛ cw: none really, royal!dan heng x fem!servant!reader, reader is awkward and shy, meet cute, emperor!dan heng, royal!au, reader comes from a poor family, 2nd person pov, fluffy fluff to come, Dan Heng lies, secret identity trope, sfw : ̗̀➛ tags: @kimura-uzuri, @blushho

⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆˙⟡ ✦

Dan Heng had only come to the throne a short while ago and already had to deal with a war he hadn't started. There wasn't a moment of peace, being constantly bombarded with decisions that affected nations, the future, and living up to his father's legacy. None of this should have been his responsibility, especially since he hasn't even come to terms with his past and living up to his potential as Imbibator Lunae of his nation. But there was one thing… a refuge from all the chaos and pressure. A life without the expectations of status and leadership, somewhere he was safe, he could love and be loved.

You.

It started when you were working around the palace as a servant. Your family was poor, and you were sold to work at the imperial palace so they could pay off their debts. This was common practice for those in need, and it did have its benefits, a few at least.

Working at the palace, you never thought you would ever actually meet the emperor, the young leader of your warring nation. Though you did hear things, he was quite handsome and very skilled with the spear which was an odd choice for someone of his status. The women in the palace giggled about him but of course, none of you would ever have a chance with someone of his status. Or so you thought.

You ran into each other while you were cleaning the long hall. You were alone and quietly humming a song your mother used to sing to you. You missed your family If you were to be honest, you didn't know people here, though they were kind enough. They looked at you with sympathetic eyes, or envious ones, depending on where they came from.

Suddenly, behind you, you heard footsteps, slowly came a young man. You eyed him cautiously, he seemed sleepy with heavy bags under his eyes, stress lines across his face despite his youthful appearance. He was fairly handsome if he were to fix his appearance a bit, short black hair and a lean but muscular build, you could tell due to his thin linen garb. He seemed like he was of high status due to the quality of his clothes, but nothing else signified status. You determined he was probably one of the more favored servants, though there was something about him that seemed eerily familiar.

He noticed your suspicious glances and became confused, does she not recognize me? He felt half offended and half amused. Well this is interesting.

Most people would have bowed their heads to him by now, it was the law, after all to bow in the presence of their emperor. He never really cared for it but it was strange to see someone not adhering to it.

“Can I help you with something?” You spoke, interrupting the staring contest.

“Oh no, sorry. Can I… help you…perhaps? Is there anything you require assistance with?” He wasn't used to making conversation where he was treated like an actual human being and not the answer to everyone's problems.

“Oh…hm…,” This handsome man was talking to you and asking if you needed anything, as someone who is starved for nurturing and love this was basically a marriage proposal, “could you help me reach the top of that shelf it's a bit too high for me to clean and I can't find a ladder.”

You expected him to go get a ladder or a stool if he knew where, not take the duster from your hand and do it himself.

“Oh! Uh….thank you.” You were a bit flustered, not only did you feel bad for having him dust the high shelves but when he was handing it back to you he was very close and very tall. You hoped he didn't notice how red your ears were getting at the moment “I didn't mean to make you do all that, my sincerest apologies.”

“Nonsense, I could reach it, and you needed help.” Dan Heng stated in a matter-of-fact tone, his teal eyes staring directly into your soul.

“What is your name, by the way? I didn’t seem to catch it,” you asked, despite the lump in your throat and the need to run away from this mysterious, handsome man.

He stared at you, stunned, I don’t want her to treat me differently, he paused before saying, “Dannie, and you?”

“Just Dannie?” you asked. It was strange to introduce yourself with what seemed like a first name.

“Yes.” He felt terrible for lying to an innocent person for no reason other than his selfish desires, but he wanted to indulge himself, just this once

“Hm, okay, Dannie, nice to meet you.”

You gave him your name, and you both stared at each other a bit, awkward silence taking over. You weren’t sure what to do or say after this point, not having much normal human interaction for the past year would do that.

Dan Heng, or “Dannie,” was the first to break the silence: “May I join you for the rest of your shift?”

You were surprised and perhaps slightly embarrassed but agreed nonetheless. It’s only to get to know the people I rule, of course, of course, yes, there was no other motivation whatsoever.

⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆˙⟡ ✦

: ̗̀➛ a/n pt 2: hello once more dear readers, and my darling dearest @all-skedaddle-and-no-bop

banner credit goes to: @kat_allioth on pinterest but idk who the actual artist is

stay tuned for the upcoming chapters!

masterlist next

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getaapologist · 3 months ago

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More Geta x servant reader, how does he react when she’s upset? Like imagine reader trying to hide it cus she doesn’t think it should be such a big deal, but trying to suppress it only makes it worse, and she can barely hold it together to not cry in front of the emperor.

A/N: I'm not sure this is EXACTLY what you meant, but it's what came out. Hope you enjoy it!

[ prior servant!reader entry can be found here ]

“We have taken too much time, little lamb,” Geta teased, a large hand finding your hip, sliding slightly lower, around. Squeezing. “We will be late.”

A heat grew, as if it wasn’t quenched just ten minutes before.

“You will be late,” you corrected, pulling at the green fabric.

His amused grin could be seen in the mirror just over your shoulder. “Perhaps. But it is your fault.”

A slight pull as he moved away, finally beginning to get dressed.

You looked down to the tray full of jewels, mostly his. Picking up a couple of smaller rings, you slid them on your fingers. Some thinner bracelets, too. Geta liked fiddling with them, spinning them where they sat on your wrists.

Lifting the necklace like it was the easiest choice in the world, you slipped it over your head. Because it was.

And it promptly clattered to the floor.

Confusion. Mild horror.

It was painful to kneel down and scoop up the glittering strand, fingers combing through the embedded jewels to locate the reason. The cause.

A ring. Split. Almost as if wrenched apart, but how could that be?

“...Little lamb?”

Geta’s voice was questioning, curious, as he stepped over to you.

“It is nothing,” you assured him, turning away, the gifted necklace’s broken clasp held between your fingers. You pressed hard, trying to force back the strange swelling of emotions at the sight of it.

It was just a necklace. You could imagine him saying that. You have others.

The amount of attachment you had to it was a surprise to even you. You wore it frequently without a second thought or awareness of how much it mattered to you. But as you felt the ring of metal that had split open pressing harshly into the pads of your fingers, you knew you would miss it terribly.

His large hands gripped your upper arms, turning you to face him, his face down near yours, eyes searching, fearful and cautious.

“What is it?”

As he spoke the words, his eyes fell to your hands, noticing what you held. How you were holding it. His fingers covered yours in an instant, gently prising the metal from them, examining it.

“It’s broken,” he commented.

“I do not know how it happened,” you mumbled, emotions bubbling up and spilling over, a few stray tears making their way down your face as you closed your eyes to the sight of it in his hands.

“Mea mellitula,” he soothed, a smile in his voice, “it is just a—”

Frustration. Sorrow. They were forced out as you interrupted him, eyes closed, brows drawn together. “It is not just a necklace.”

Silence filled the room. You missed the slight sting of the broken metal threatening to pierce the skin of your thumb. It was irrational, surely he wouldn’t understand. How could he?

The soft touch of his fingers to where your brows knit in anguish was unexpected. He pressed gently until the tension there dissipated.

“This one in particular. It means something to you,” he realized. “Why?”

You opened your eyes, casting them down to look at the jeweled necklace, the pretty earthen tones matching quite a few of his rings. It took you a moment to piece it together, and a moment more to articulate it to him.

“It is the first thing you personally gifted me, Geta. I… It felt nice, knowing you thought of me.”

His face slid into a sly grin, the necklace set aside, forgotten. “Oh, my little lamb, I am always thinking of you.”

Your frown grew, the sentimentality lingering.

“Please, look at me,” he requested, his fingers finding your chin, your cheek, urging you to meet his amber eyes, glowing in the evening firelight.

Reluctantly, you did. His hand on your cheek took the time to wipe away any lingering tears, swiping beneath your eyes gently, slowly. He didn’t speak until he was done.

“They can fix it. Would you like that?”

A slow nod.

He smiled, smoothing a hand over your hair. “There. No more tears.”

A gentle kiss was pressed to your temple before his hands left you. He stepped away, to where his clothing was stored.

Your eyes fell to where the necklace sat, still broken, on his desk, among papers and tablets. Drawings. Maps. As if it were another duty he was now responsible for.

Looking over the tray of jewelry, the other options just felt wrong, even in light of everything. Not quite the right color. Too long. Too tight to the neck.

This is ridiculous.

A thin wooden box was held before your eyes, interrupting your stewing.

“Here. I was saving this for… well, it doesn’t matter. Now’s as good a time as any.”

You accepted the box. He sat on the edge of the vanity watching you, eyes darting from the box as you attempted to prise it open, up to your face, waiting for your expression.

As the lid lifted, the item inside glittered even more brightly than the other necklace. Stones of deep red, polished to shine, attached to a golden chain. It was beautiful.

“Geta, this is…”

“Do you like it?” he asked, hopeful.

As if you could ever dislike such a thing.

“I love it. Is this really for me?”

He smiled, something more than just affection in his eyes. “Of course it is. Here, let me put it on you.”

He pulled the shiny, new necklace from the box and stepped around you, pulling it slowly up over your collarbones, his knuckles brushing the back of your neck as he dealt with the clasp. Once it was secured, he smoothed his fingers along the golden chain, drawing the slack down until it sat right where it was meant to.

“It’s beautiful,” you smiled, bringing your hands up to touch it, adjusting it slightly.

His arms wrapped around your middle, his chin resting on your shoulder. His eyes moved from the reflection of the necklace up to your face.

“Yes. Beautiful.”

[ more geta x servant!reader here ]

#god he's so pretty #that gif #ugh #anyway #emperor geta x reader #gladiator ii x reader #joseph quinn x reader #gladiator 2 x reader #it’s loving geta hours #blurb #emperor geta x servant!reader #servant!reader

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retiredteabag · 2 months ago

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*slips into view and drops scene*

Lol me just imagining reader who doesnt say when shes cold, only to have Sukuna reluctant to leave her until shes warmed up.

oh yeah...I like how you think

masterlist

While it is true that he is able to create and manipulate fire in 'divine flame' attacks, Sukuna's natural body temperature lies far outside the realm of what is considered normal for a human.

Beyond that truth, The King of Curses had an unparalleled stature, his anatomy was unlike that of anyone you had met. His body generated more heat from the moving that unavoidable mass then most portable gas heaters back home.

You, however, were not blessed with the warm nature that he carried with him. On winter nights, you could find him sitting quietly on the estate's engawa, a loose kimono covering little of his form. Comfortable as ever.

To him, you were that of a bird, bound to the weak nature you were born into, a meek, trembling human. And though true, he favored you more than any other servant, you would not dare image yourself worthy of requesting more than what had been given you.

You were a grateful person, truly; it was simply difficult to recall this fact about yourself when you are currently unable to control the wracking jitters that seem to permeate even through to your bones.

The estate was always far too cold for your taste, but your taste is not the kind that need be accommodated. So all that time ago when you replaced the bathhouse maid, you knew you would die before you messed up the job.

Namely because you did actually know your life was on the line, and inversely because the sudatorium nature of the room was more comforting than hardly anything else offered in the whole of the grounds.

You shook, not from the cold all those nights ago, but from the fear of the man before you in the scalding water.

But as time bled away and Sukuna took notice of you more, your needless fear eased. Still, even now, it was strange to speak so informally to your King.

"Your fragility is a curious thing to observe."

You steeled yourself as Sukuna rose from his position before you. You were wrapped in layered robes but the chill would not leave you be. Ashamed suddenly, as you were at how repulsed he must find himself, watching you, unable to withstand such temperatures.

You shift on your feet, "I...have a larger surface area for cooling." You clear your throat, knowing he is observing you, feeling those eyes, ceaseless eyes, “This provides more opportunities for my body heat to dissipate into the environment." You make a show of your hands, explaining why perhaps your inferior nature was so different from his own.

He rolled those very eyes and grinned. No, smirked. The King of Curses smirked. This near smile almost caused the chill in your being to fade. Almost.

"You must be careful to not be caught outside in such conditions." He came close, one large hand, all-encompassing, came to lay on your head.

Heat seemed to spread from this fraction of his body. You had the sudden and completely inappropriate desire to fall to the floor and lay upon him as a feline might wrap itself in pockets of sunshine.

Blood pumped in your ears and your hands came to touch your cheeks.

Another of his own came and curled behind your neck, before you even felt the touch, you noticed the air surrender to his intensity. "Careful indeed." He whispered.

Little things such as this were the events you would tell yourself to ignore. Your heart, or pride might grow too large, and that is no position for a servant to themselves in.

"I must be off, Lord Sukuna." You did not wrap your palm around his wrist, although it took great fortitude not to.

You made no effort to move from him, and he made no effort to free you from himself.

"Tell me of your discomfort before I become displeased with you." One very large finger slides down the path of your spine and the heat that emits from the single digit is undeniable. You shake from the sensation, but it seems the King misunderstands.

You hold all of his attention, and he holds all of you. His stare is intense, and something else. He looks so confused at the creature that is you. Determined to end the suffering of such an inferior being. The critter in his palm.

He had never felt this way before.

And for the second time, due to this very man, you had never been so warm.

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woahjo · 10 months ago

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the first time the high lord katsuki touches you, he drags his fingers lightly over your clothes. his palms slide against your shoulders, your waist, your hips, and your thighs. he's careful to not overstep, moving slowly over your body as if any sudden movement would shatter the illusion.

he'd asked you to come look at something on his desk. a book or some other thing, and you'd obliged because you appreciate the things he shares with you. but you had stood so close to him, so close that katsuki could smell you, that he could lean forward a little and put his face in your hair.

"tell me if you don't like it," he'd mumbled, his voice tense and gravelly. there was a bite to it, a nervous one that he'd struggled to conceal.

then, he'd moved his hands to touch your hips. lightly at first, then with a bit more urgency. you had not turned around to face him, instead content to let him touch you this way. almost like worship.

his hands now roam gingerly over your clothing, catching momentarily on the heavy fabric before letting it fall again. he spends a lot of time simply feeling your shape, greedy hands that tremble with his desire to take you. katsuki touches you because you let him, because you want him to.

katsuki doesn't fuck you today, but he does other things. he lets his hand slip to your inner thigh and you part your legs with a small step to the side. neither of you speaks a word and the room is so silent save for your breathing that you could hear a pin drop. kirishima is outside of the door, but he won't enter unless he's called. the silence and secret of this wraps you both in a film you can't seem to break free from.

slowly, he pulls your dress up to run his fingers along the inside of your thigh, raising goosebumps along your skin and causing you to shutter and lean back against him. he sighs a little, leaning forward so that his breath hits the shell of your ear. then, he places a small kiss on your exposed part of your shoulder where it meets your neck.

then, his fingers dip to cup your cunt, pressing lightly until he finds the spot that makes you gasp and lean forward, bracing yourself with both hands on the table. his thick finger rubs circles into your slit, pulling aside your underwear to collect your wetness on his fingers before pressing it again to that sensitive bud.

you sigh, letting your head fall forward and katsuki steps closer to you, close enough that you can feel his hardness against your ass. he groans when he realizes the extent of your wetness, no doubt thinking about how long you've been like this, how long he's let you go unsatisfied and neglected.

katsuki doesn't make an effort to enter you, nor does he move his fingers from your clit. he just rubs circles into it, finding a pattern that makes you tremble and sticking with it. you sigh softly as he touches you, your skirt hiked up over his wrist and legs spread ever so slightly to give him room to pleasure you. choked moans and whines threaten to escape your lips and you can feel katsuki's face and breath beside your head, his eyes fixed on you as he watches your expression twist into one of mounting pleasure.

his hand comes up to brace your hip when you get close, pulling your body against him so that his hard cock is flush against you. it's a possessive movement and the roughest he's ever been with you, harshly jostling your body against his as if to have you close when you reach your peak.

you're leaning forward, fingers digging into the fine wood of his desk, as he repeatedly rubs at your clit, occasionally dipping to your entrance to collect your slick. you'd love for him to put them in you, to curl his thick fingers inside of your body until you cum, but this seems to be all he allows himself to do, as if he's holding himself back from ultimate pleasure.

what he does do for you is certainly enough, though. soon, he's crowding your body, his figure hunched over yours as you twitch and writhe against him. he keeps his fingers firmly rubbing at your clit, soft circles that grow more intentional with each twitch of your hips against him. then, you tense up and sigh deeply, then tension in your body fleeing as you cum hard against his hand and rut your hips into his fingers.

katsuki watches and groans softly as you finish, still moving his fingers and breathing heavily in your ear until you collapse forward against the desk with overstimulation. your legs tremble and squeeze his hand between your thighs and your breath comes heavily and quickly. he breathes like this too, as if he's just exerted some great physical force, and you can still feel his cock twitching against you in his pants as the fingers on his free hand dig harshly into your hips.

katsuki doesn't move his hand until you've stopped your twitching, content to leg you squeeze it between two plush thighs. then, he removes it, briefly holding your skirt up and peering around you to see the supple flesh of your leg, before letting it drop. you exhale a breath you hadn't realized you were holding and katsuki lingers behind you for a moment before letting his head fall forward to rest against your shoulder.

neither of you says anything about the reality of what you've just done. it's a great crime. one that is not easily undone should anyone find out about it. the two of you sit in silence as it settles over you.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou smut #tw.power dynamics #tw.overstimulation #he's a little rough i fear #also i need you all to know that katsuki gives off the impression of a very loyal dog in this #a lord who is loyal to his servant... not the other way around.#OHHHH CHRIST

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bones-of-a-rabbit · 6 months ago

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how to fix ur grumpy king bf:

step one. kiss. step two. repeat step one. step three. there is no step three

#bones of a rabbit #doodles #fnaf au #fnaf dca #dca fandom #fnaf eclipse x reader #fnaf eclipse x y/n #royalty au #royals x servant au #servant y/n #royal eclipse #sorry my art is ugly as hell btw lol #sketches #silly fluff #fluff n stuff #bones of a rabbit au

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redtsundere-writes · 1 year ago

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sukuna and servant!reader is so good!! looking forward to rescue more of them <33

Eyes On Me | Sukuna Ryomen

king!sukuna ryomen x femservant!reader

Sypnosis: Uraume can't play chess with the king right now, you must step up. Contents: Obsession, pining, kinda fluffy, mentions of blood and body parts. Uraume uses they/them pronouns. Word Count: 2404 words. Author's Note: I love writing this ship. People have been asking me to make this a series. I'll try my best lol I think you can still read them individually, but there's a preferred order.

Beginning. ← Previous |

AO3/WATTPAD VERSION

Sukuna hates humans. It's a fact of life. The sky is blue, roses are red and Sukuna hates the disgusting creatures that humans are. He has so many reasons to hate them that he doesn't even know where to begin. Humans are annoying, weak, clumsy, but most of all, stupid. They make decisions without thinking through the consequences. They prefer to spend their money on temporary pleasures and end up bankrupt by not prioritizing their survival. They worry about unimportant things such as social status, religion, and traditions. Sukuna hates humans, but boy, are they entertaining.

Sukuna tends to study his servants very carefully. Even though they only clean, cook and obey his orders to a tee, it was fun to watch them interact with each other. He finds it fascinating how the servants gossip in whispers, how the gardeners concentrate to prune the bushes well despite their hands shaking, or how the cooks taste the food several times so that it’s up to their majesty's standards. It was like watching dozens of filthy lab rats in the middle of a social experiment. Although… There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what they were doing.

You had finished all the chores for the day and decided to help the cooks prepare dinner because you had nothing better to do. Your muscles were exhausted from having spent all morning cleaning the porcelain sculptures, the large frames of the paintings in the great hall, and the king's jewelry so they could sparkle in all their glory. You had been assigned the task of peeling potatoes, so there you were. Sitting at a table with a small knife, peeling potatoes while listening to the chaos going on in the kitchen. Uraume was busy preparing a special passion fruit tea for the king. The special coming from the water that was inked with human blood. Sometimes you wondered if Uraume had always agreed to cook with humans or was it something they got used to because of Sukuna's orders, but since they never talked about themselves, you never asked.

“Fuck!” A cook yelled when the frying pan caught fire.

Your eyes widened at the flashy flare. Uraume put the tea set aside to attend to the emergency. With some ice from their magic hands, they put out the fire in a jiffy, but left the kitchen a mess. They began to berate the cook with smacks in the head and curses for his ineptitude. The cook just apologized over and over again, but that wasn't enough for the head chef.

“You!” Uraume called. You put your task aside to attend to their orders. “Take the tea to our king and tell him I will be with him when I settle this situation.” You nodded and took the tray carefully to go in search of him.

After Sukuna gave you permission, you entered the library with the golden tray in your hands. The library was the coziest room in the entire castle. Its high walls were covered with huge bookcases filled with books, maps, and scrolls. There were long desks of works and hundreds of candleholders everywhere to enjoy reading during the evenings. He was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in front of the game table, a small wooden table with a chessboard on top. The king was surprised to see you there despite having specified Uraume's presence.

“I didn't ask you to come,” Sukuna said chidingly as you served him tea at a small table next to him.

“Uraume had to attend to an emergency in the kitchen. They'll be here once everything is under control,” you replied as you set down the fragile cup of blood tea, adorned with small pieces of eyeball floating on the red surface to give it texture.

Your gaze traveled to the chessboard, it had been a long time since you had seen the king playing. You knew from the other servants that he was a good player and only plays with Uraume or some brave guest. This was no ordinary board. You could see that each piece was handmade and had luxurious detail. The pieces were made of white quartz, the eyes of the horses were rubies and the crowns of the kings were made of jade. It was the most beautiful board game you ever saw.

“Do you know how to play?” Sukuna asked out of curiosity.

Being a servant, you surely had not received the same education as he did. Well, almost no one was on his level when it came to education. Sukuna was a master mathematician, a skilled debater and could threaten his enemies in 5 different languages. You hadn't been as lucky. You're good at cleaning, cooking and taking orders, but what else can you do?

“Yes,” you answered with a smile.

That answer surprised him quite a bit. Although chess was a game that was rapidly gaining popularity among the middle class, it was not a game for women. It was a game that required intellect, always thinking two moves ahead and knowing how to read your opponent. You didn't look like a girl who could do all that.

“Sit down,” Sukuna ordered you.

“I warn you that it may be a short game. It's been a long time since I've played,” you warned him as you sat down.

Sukuna watched you with great attention. Your eyes scanned the board as if it was the first time you had ever seen one, your hands rested gently on your thighs and you smiled nervously. You may have known the rules of the game, but you didn't know how to play. The king took your word for it.

“Ladies first,” he asked you to start.

“My pleasure,” you said as your dominant hand moved over the pieces to decide what your first move would be.

Your father had taught you how to play. He always wanted a son to inherit the family business, but your mother only kept giving birth to women, so he had to resign himself to you. Your mother taught you how to be a lady so you could get married as soon as possible and your father taught you about the business so that your future husband wouldn’t take advantage of the family money. You used to sit in front of the wooden board and talk for hours after dinner. Your father may not have been the wisest or the most astute man, but he had left you a very important lesson: Always look people in the eye to know their true intentions.

This was one of the few times you came face to face with Sukuna. Because of his title as king and the great difference in height, you were always beneath him, physically and psychologically speaking. You were a simple human, while he was a king with the power to get rid of whomever he wanted with a simple movement of his fingers. Although his presence made you feel vulnerable, you didn't resent him. You had a relatively comfortable life serving him, but sometimes there was a need for you to show him that you were more than a servant. This was a good opportunity to do so.

Sukuna's eyes were not on you, they were on the board. His gaze denoted boredom. He was waiting patiently for you to make the first move. If you waited a little longer, maybe he would yawn. He overestimated you, you had to use that feeling against him. You moved a pawn to the C4 square, a common move among beginners.

“Finally…” He said in a monotone voice before quickly moving the knight to the F6 square.

Each of you took turns to move the pieces quietly as time went by. You took your time with each move, while the king only needed to look at the board from time to time to know what to do next. You could take all the time in the world, but he would still eat all your pieces. Even though it didn't seem to be an interesting game, you could at least keep up with him. Sukuna's queen advanced towards yours, standing face to face. One false move and your king was in trouble.

“Check,” you said as the queen retreated two squares diagonally, leaving her free to begin the attack on the king.

At that announcement, Sukuna woke up from the trance he was in to concentrate on what he was doing. He smiled with satisfaction as he noticed the change in your body. Your hands had relaxed, your back was straight, and your eyes were glued to his. You knew exactly what you were doing. You didn't need to tell him verbally that you would destroy him at his own game, your eyes told him clearly. It was as if you were dissecting his soul bit by bit until you left him completely naked.

Your hands were interleaved with each turn. You moved quickly as you realized that Sukuna had already noticed your active presence on the board. Sukuna returned the queen to his side. An interesting move. It was wise to know when to back away, but you noticed one thing in his eyes. He had no plan, he just acted based on his understanding of the game. He moved like in real life, using only his killer instincts.

“Check,” you announced again by moving a knight up.

“Not so fast,” Sukuna told you before taking the horse that was threatening his king using a queen. You smiled as you saw that his majesty had fallen into the trap. By moving his pieces like that, Sukuna had fully exposed his king.

“Checkmate,” you announced the end of the game as soon as you moved the white queen close to the black king. And only then, the poor maid defeated the almighty king.

“Well, well...” Sukuna sighed in awe as he looked at the board with extreme curiosity. He couldn't be mad at you. He had let his guard down. You were playing even before the game started.

There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what you were doing. Sukuna would always hyper fixate on you whenever he noticed your presence around him. You could be cleaning, chatting with your companions or eating some dried fruit in the garden, and he would still only notice you as if nothing else in the world existed. You were the most interesting human he had ever seen. Sukuna tried to look for a logical reason for his obsession with you, but he couldn't do it. You looked like a simple being with clear goals, but he was sure you were hiding something behind your perfect facade.

Someone knocked at the door. Sukuna sighed, he wanted to be alone with you longer, but now was not the time. Uraume entered the room and was surprised to see you sitting with his majesty. Something strange had been going on between the two of you for months. They had even debated the idea of asking the king directly about you, but hadn't worked up the courage to do so.

“There was an inconvenience in the kitchen. Sorry to keep you waiting, your majesty,” Uraume bowed in apology.

“Lucky for you, you sent a good replacement,” Sukuna said before smiling at you in satisfaction.

Uraume instantly understood just by glancing at the board. You had beaten the king, something even they could not easily accomplish. They could tell that he was looking at you like no one else. It wasn't a look of disgust or boredom, it was a curious look. Like that of a child looking at a group of kids playing in the playground, wondering if he could come over to play with them.

“If you'll excuse me, I have to go,” you said as you got up to give the seat to Uraume. “Good game. It was a pleasure to play against you, my king,” you bowed.

“Good game,” Sukuna whispered so you could leave the room.

Sukuna and Uraume started a new game as soon as you returned to the kitchen to peel potatoes. They quickly noticed that something was occupying her majesty's mind. Their white pieces were eating his black pieces easily and his moves were slow compared to previous games. Uraume could tell that the game against you had changed the way he played.

“What do you see in her?” Uraume asked him after a move.

“Am I too obvious?” Sukuna asked them before getting up from his seat to start prowling around the library to clear his mind. “What do you think of her?” He asked her as he stopped in front of the window to admire the land. The large green lawn stretched all the way to the intimidating entrance of his wonderful castle.

“She is a dedicated servant and a perfectionist. She does all the chores in a timely manner. She is as good a servant as any other. The real question is: What do you think of her?” Uraume asked as they watched him from their seat.

“She has potential.”

“Potential? Potential for what?” Uraume arched their eyebrow at the confusing statement.

“She has the potential to become a queen,” Sukuna replied confidently.

Sukuna Ryomen was known among the kingdoms for being an unorthodox king. Not only because he took kingdoms left and right as if it were nothing, but because he has a strange way of ruling his people. He did not care about social classes, behavioral labels or unwritten codes of human coexistence. Everyone was inferior to him regardless of gender, race, or religion. He was the god of this new world and everyone had to obey him, just like that.

The fact that he wanted to have a queen went far beyond just following the established patterns of classical monarchy. Sukuna must have a reason why he wants to have a queen other than just because, but there was a more important question on the table.

“Your majesty, you can get any woman you want. You can get a beautiful woman, with more training and presence, why would you settle for a servant?” Uraume asked in confusion. Sukuna smiled. It was a good question.

“She has something much better than that,” he answered before continuing the game as if nothing happened. Uraume looked down to see that Sukuna had checkmated them.

Author's Note: I poured my poor knowledge on chess for this lol I hope it makes sense.

Masterlist.

#fanfic #fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #jjk imagine #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #fluff #jjk fluff #king x servant #sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #jjk ryomen #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #ryomen x reader

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battleslippers · 5 months ago

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putting my oc twice because i have free will

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noirscript · 3 months ago

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the lion's shadow

PAIRING: King Callixto x Servant Reader

Warning/s: Surprisingly, none?

Read the series: [ ONE ] | [ TWO ] | [ THREE ] | [ FOUR ]

Note: I might publish this series and other future releases in advance somewhere. Also, if I were to write a book, will you support me? Just wondering before releasing something.

TIP JAR | COMMISSION

For the first time in a long while, your days were quiet. Peaceful.

The shack, though small and weathered by time, had become a sanctuary. The morning sun spilled through the cracks in the wooden walls, dust motes dancing in the golden light as you stirred awake to the soft chirping of birds. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine, a stark contrast to the stifling perfume and candle smoke that clung to the walls of the palace you had once called home.

Here, you woke to silence, not the murmurs of servants or the distant chime of the court’s bells. Here, you chose how to spend your days.

You had found a rhythm in your solitude. Each morning, you would step outside, feet sinking into the damp soil, hands brushing against the wildflowers growing in the clearing. The wind carried the scent of honeysuckle, mixing with the distant smokiness of burning wood from a village far beyond the trees. You would gather what you could—berries, roots, herbs that you recognized from your mother’s teachings—and return home with your hands full, your child growing steadily beneath your ribs.

At midday, you would sit outside, weaving. A half-finished sweater lay in your lap, the wool coarse against your fingers, but you took comfort in the act of creating something. A gift for the child who had no name yet, who stirred within you when the sun was at its highest, reminding you that you were never truly alone.

Evenings were the most beautiful. When the sun dipped behind the trees, the world turned golden, the leaves burning in hues of amber and rust. Fireflies blinked to life, flickering like tiny stars caught between branches. The air smelled of earth after rain, of moss and damp bark, and in the distance, the distant hoot of an owl signaled the coming of night.

It was a quiet life. A small life. But it was yours.

For the first time in so long, you felt… safe.

No whispered court gossip, no watchful eyes lingering on your every move. No suffocating presence lurking just beyond your reach.

You dared to believe you had finally escaped him.

But peace, as you would soon learn, was a fleeting thing.

It came first as a sound.

A knock.

Loud. Desperate.

Your heart seized.

Another knock—no, pounding now. Fists striking against the wooden door, heavy enough to rattle the walls.

Your breath hitched. Hands trembling, you set the half-knitted sweater aside, gaze darting toward the door.

The knocking didn’t stop.

You swallowed down your panic, muscles coiling with the instinct to hide.

Then—

“Help me, please!”

A voice. A woman’s voice, raw and desperate.

“Help!”

Your body moved before your mind could catch up. In two quick strides, you were at the door, hand hovering over the latch.

A plea like that—you knew it too well. The breathless panic, the urgency, the weight of something unseen pressing against the voice.

You had once been on the other side of that door.

With a final glance around, you unbolted it and pulled it open.

The woman before you was disheveled, dressed in tattered cloth, her hair clinging to her damp forehead. She stumbled forward, barely catching herself. Wild eyes met yours, and something in them—a deep, unshakable fear—sent a chill skittering down your spine.

She had been running.

And something—someone—was coming after her.

"Hurry," she gasped.

Without thinking, you pulled her inside.

Your peace was over.

She sat hunched in one of the old wooden chairs your father had carved, hands curled around a steaming noggin of water. It wasn’t much, but it was the only comfort you could offer.

She clutched it as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded.

The flickering candlelight revealed the thin sheen of sweat on her forehead, the shallow rise and fall of her chest. Her fingers, dirtied and trembling, were curled tightly around the mug, the heat of it seeping into her skin. The moment she had stumbled inside, she had sunk into the chair as if her body had finally given out.

You watched her cautiously, standing by the small counter, one hand still resting against your stomach—a protective reflex.

The silence between you stretched, thick with unspoken questions.

When she finally spoke, her voice was hoarse. "How far along are you?"

You blinked at the suddenness of the question, then hesitated, glancing down at the curve of your belly. "I… don’t know."

Her lips parted slightly, as if she meant to say more, but she simply nodded. "Ah. My apologies."

A beat of silence. Then she took a sip from the mug, the warmth chasing away some of the tremor in her hands.

You weren’t sure why, but you found yourself speaking. "I’m not a lady."

Her gaze snapped to yours.

You gestured toward the tattered drape over her shoulders. "The quality of that fabric alone could feed an entire village. If anyone here is a lady, it’s you."

Something flickered across her face, a shadow of something old and weary, but she didn’t deny it.

"You could stay," you offered quietly, watching her reaction carefully. "This shack—it’s safe. If you need somewhere to hide, you’re welcome to it."

Her eyes widened, caught between gratitude and suspicion. "And you?"

You shrugged, already gathering what little you owned into a cloth bundle. "I need to get further away. If you found this place, it’s only a matter of time before someone else does too."

Her head bowed, shame and guilt evident in the way her hands tightened around the mug. "I’m sorry…"

"Don’t be," you said simply.

She hesitated, then set the mug down and looked up at you. "Please… take care of yourself. And if—if we ever meet again, I hope I can return the favor."

A wry smile tugged at your lips. "I hope so too."

And with that, you turned toward the door, pulling your hood low over your face.

You didn’t look back.

The journey was grueling.

For days, you moved through the forest, guided only by fading memories of old maps and the sun's slow arc across the sky. The dense canopy above swallowed most of the daylight, leaving you to navigate through shadows. Your feet ached, blistered and raw, and the weight of exhaustion pressed heavy on your shoulders.

But you kept moving.

Every rustling leaf, every snap of a branch in the distance set your nerves alight. The paranoia never faded, not even when the trees thinned and the scent of burning wood and fresh bread filled the air.

And then, at long last, you saw it.

A village.

Small, tucked away beyond the treeline, its lantern-lit streets brimming with life.

The sight made your knees weak.

You pulled your hood lower, adjusting the strap of your bundle, and stepped forward.

The village was a sanctuary—a place untouched by the cruelty of men who sat upon thrones and dictated the fates of those beneath them. Here, the air was thick with the scent of freshly baked bread, the laughter of children filled the streets, and the golden hues of sunset painted the rooftops with warmth. It was the kind of place where people looked after one another, where neighbors shared meals without expectation, and where secrets were hidden beneath smiles rather than steel.

It was the kind of place you could imagine raising your child.

Life had been kind since you arrived, a stark contrast to the gilded prison you had once called home. You had your own little room tucked away above the restaurant owned by Mia and Taren, two retired adventurers who had seen enough of the world to know when to walk away from its chaos. The couple had taken you in without question, providing a roof over your head in exchange for helping around their small yet bustling establishment.

And for the first time in a long while, you felt safe.

Mornings were spent preparing the restaurant for the day ahead—wiping down tables, slicing fresh loaves of bread, and brewing pots of strong tea that carried the scent of herbs and spices through the air. The afternoons were busier, filled with the chatter of travelers passing through, adventurers boasting of their latest feats, and villagers exchanging gossip over steaming bowls of stew.

Evenings were the best. By then, the restaurant would settle into a comfortable hum of low conversations, the lanterns casting a soft glow that made the space feel even more like home. Mia would lean over the counter, eyes twinkling as she spun stories from her days as an adventurer, while Taren would shake his head and grumble about how she exaggerated every detail.

It was an ordinary, simple life. And it was yours.

You had begun to hope that maybe—just maybe—you had escaped the past for good.

“Did you hear?” Mia leaned in conspiratorially as she set a steaming bowl of soup in front of you. “The king has returned from his campaign.”

Taren scoffed, taking a long sip from his mug before setting it down with a dull thud. “Hmph. More like another bloodbath disguised as a campaign. Every time he rides out, he leaves behind a trail of bodies, and when he returns, the nobles praise him as if he’s the second coming of the gods.”

You blinked, gripping your spoon a little tighter. “The king?”

Mia nodded. “King Aurelian.” Her voice dropped lower, almost hesitant, as if speaking his name too loudly might summon him. “They say he’s taken a new interest in something—or someone.”

You swallowed, trying to ignore the unease curling in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

Taren exchanged a glance with Mia before exhaling sharply. “Rumors. That’s all. But the capital has been restless ever since he returned. People whisper about a woman, someone he dragged back from the outskirts—”

Mia elbowed him. “Enough. We don’t want to be accused of treason, do we?” She turned to you with a reassuring smile, but there was something tight about it. “Don’t worry about it, dear. It has nothing to do with us.”

You forced yourself to nod, even as the conversation left a lingering chill on your skin.

Nothing to do with us.

And yet, an unease settled deep in your bones.

Two months passed in peaceful monotony.

Your belly grew heavier with each passing day, and though your movements had slowed, you were grateful for the stability the village provided. The people here were kind—offering remedies for your aching feet, slipping extra portions of food onto your plate, and treating you as one of their own despite your foreign accent and unfamiliar past.

The world outside these borders felt like a distant nightmare, something that belonged to another life entirely.

Until the night he arrived.

The moment the doors swung open, you barely registered the gust of cold air that followed. It was the silence that struck first—the sudden, crushing weight of it. The air in the tavern shifted, thick with unspoken tension, a hush so absolute that even the crackling fire seemed subdued.

And then, the man stepped inside.

You didn’t recognize him, not in the way you had once memorized names and faces back in the palace. But you recognized something else. The kind of presence that did not belong in a quiet village like this. The way everyone around you reacted—Mia shrinking behind the counter, Taren stiffening as his fingers curled tightly around his mug, the way the remaining patrons averted their eyes, some even lowering to their knees as if bound by an unspoken law.

Your breath caught in your throat, something primal and urgent seizing your gut. Your fingers clenched against your lap as you forced yourself to breathe, to stay still—because a reaction would only draw more attention. But it was useless.

His gaze swept the room, deliberate and slow, and then—

He saw you.

The moment his eyes met yours, something inside you recoiled, the hairs along your arms rising. You didn’t know this man. Had never met him. And yet—

Your stomach twisted.

The way he looked at you, the way his lips curved into something almost lazy, almost amused—it was the look of a man who had found something valuable. Something he wasn’t supposed to have, and yet here it was, sitting right in front of him like an offering from fate itself.

You felt sick.

He doesn’t know who you are, you told yourself. He can’t. You had left that life behind, abandoned it in the dirt along with everything else. You were just another villager now, another nameless woman hidden away in a place the court had no reason to look.

And yet, instinct screamed at you that it didn’t matter.

Because he didn’t need to know your name.

He only needed to know that you didn’t belong here.

That someone, somewhere, would pay handsomely to have you dragged back.

Nausea clawed its way up your throat.

“I never thought I’d find her here,” he murmured, his voice smooth, almost indulgent, as if he were savoring the moment.

Your stomach clenched.

His gaze drifted, lower now, to the curve of your belly. Something flickered in his expression—surprise, intrigue, and something deeper, unreadable. Then, a slow, dark amusement settled into his eyes.

“And a bonus.”

The floor seemed to tilt beneath you.

Your pulse roared in your ears, and for a split second, you couldn’t move. Every nerve in your body screamed at you to run, but your limbs felt frozen, locked in place by the suffocating weight of knowing.

He wasn’t here for you. Not specifically.

But he would take you anyway.

And once he knew—once he realized—

Your stomach twisted violently.

You didn’t think. You moved.

The chair scraped against the floor as you shot to your feet, your heartbeat thundering. Taren inhaled sharply, but you barely heard him. Every instinct was screaming now, every muscle coiling with the need to flee—

Then, he stepped forward.

Unhurried. Certain.

His guards shifted in tandem, just enough to remind you that the door was no longer an option. And suddenly, you knew.

They weren’t going to let you leave.

Your breathing came fast, too fast, and for the first time in months, you felt truly trapped. Not by walls, not by distance, but by the simple, cruel reality that you were prey.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides.

You had made a mistake.

You had let yourself believe you were safe. That peace could be more than just a fleeting dream. That no one would ever come looking.

But safety has always been a lie.

And freedom?

It had never been yours to keep.

TBC.

Taglist: @hopingtoclearmedschool @violetvase @zanzie @neuvilletteswife4ever @kthehoeforfictionalmen @yamekocatt

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