Content warnings: thigh job, smut, p in v, fem reader, noncon, dubcon, murder, degenerate stuff idk
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You woke up one day as one of the hundreds of maids and servants employed by the Kingdom of Thralkeld. Originally, you were just a regular waitress and college student, barely scraping by through a system of rarely paid rent and skipped meals.
Being a broke student was fine, for a while. You found respite through a silly otome game; Sinner's Escape. A dark romance where the MC is a runaway princess from a savage kingdom who seeks refuge in Thralkeld. Your, or rather her, love interests included a poor baker, a knight, the king, and the king's butler. Ultimately, she would end up with the King on most routes, though you personally liked the butler for his calm and responsible demeanor. He held a sinister way of disposing of rivals that was calculated and silent.
The others were far too messy. Especially the king, Alric, who was an obsessive man, constantly fawning over the MC with lavish gifts and a falsely immature personality. You hated how fake he was. How could a player possibly love a character that makes the MC fall for a fallacy?
Behind all the cutesy acting and baby talking was a cunning and violent man.
You lived your life as a maid rather conservatively, however; doing your chores, following orders, and then locking yourself in your shabby room until your shift would begin once again.
You weren't quite sure when King Alric took notice of you.
Perhaps it was when you were forced to bring him breakfast in bed when he was 'sick.' A ploy he mustered up to make the MC dote on him. She was here, staying in one of the rooms as an honorary guest - or rather as a very pretty stray he picked up.
She sat atop his bed, playing with his blonde hair with a sweet smile on her face. His head in her lap, arms wrapped around her waist and piercing blue eyes holding a deceitfully pitiful look.
"I've brought the master's breakfast, my lady."
She thanked you politely, and you bowed, glaring at him in passing.
Had he noticed? Probably. You hoped not.
At another point, you had gotten in an argument with the infamous butler.
"You can't just leave all your trash for us to pick up! It isn't fair." You shouted.
The butler was rather spoiled, something you hadn't caught onto when playing the game. He was just leaving his garbage everywhere! And none of the maids could say anything for fear of retaliation.
"Your tongue should match your status."
"Your tongue should match your face. If you were handsome maybe I'd let you scold me, but you're ugly and mean and gross and totally uncool!" You were certain you'd get called a witch for your odd language and uncharacteristic yelling. Maybe even stoned, or at least fired.
What you hadn't expected was a laugh to sound from behind you.
The king, with all of his pearly white teeth, was actually laughing, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. When had you been employed into his staff? What a hilarious woman!
Suddenly, you began noticing the king's presence every time you would utter a grievance (or a cruel opinion). Subconsciously, Alric found himself seeking out your theatrics. Passing by the kitchen, the maid's chambers, or even the back corner of the garden where the laundry is tended to became a habit whenever he needed a good laugh.
You are rather honest about everything; something he is simply no good at.
King Alric began requesting your presence for afternoon tea. Your speech and unfiltered conversations were a relief to him, who was so used to pleasantries. He could speak as degenerately as he wished to, and you would simply respond as normal without judgement, unless you wanted to be judgmental.
Ahh, how wonderful it is to speak with someone who doesn't fear my status.
"You hate that butler of mine, don't you?" He chuckled, offering you a cup.
You shook your head and politely declined the cup. "I don't hate him. He's just a jerk."
"Yes, sometimes I wish I could just snap his neck." King Alric closed his eyes, as if truly pondering the scenario. "He speaks far too plainly with my possessions."
You raised a brow, but spoke anyway. "I wouldn't snap his neck, personally. But one good punch to his face would def set that guy straight."
"Def," he smiled, "You have such an interesting manner of speaking."
The MC was gone soon after. You weren't quite sure where she had gone. You were certain she would have followed the king's route, though you supposed she may have been mingling with the others and finally made a different choice.
Another argument had ensued between the butler and you, this time sparked up by him.
"You are seducing the king, you filthy rat." He accused, a pointed finger hitting your chest.
You could only stare in confusion, smacking at his hand and stepping back.
"The fuck are you talking about?"
"How could he have possibly fallen for such a foul-mouthed cretin, when that beauty was right at his fingertips." He muttered the last part, almost inaudibly, though you caught it.
Before you could respond, King Alric's arm slunk around your waist, pulling you into his chest in a warm embrace. You noticed a light smell of vanilla.
"Are you bothering my favorite maid?"
You couldn't see his expression, but judging by the one on the butler's, you were certain it couldn't have been good.
And that was when it hit you; if the MC was no longer his love interest, did that mean he could choose someone else? Was it possible?
You shuffled out of his arms, a nervous smile painting your lips. "Haha... I'm just gonna... Get back to work."
The next time you saw him was only a week later, the king's boisterous voice booming as he entered the crowded kitchen. You were boiling ginger when he pulled you against his chest once again, barking at the other maids and cooks to leave.
The smell of vanilla was gone and replaced with something more metallic, but you couldn't exactly prove it.
"I have good news, little princess."
You gasped, turning around and pushing him away - which was futile. "Princess? That could get me executed!"
He sighed. "Since when did you care about how we talk?"
"Since you started giving me nicknames like little princess."
King Alric dropped his head atop your shoulder. "Well, I have good news, little princess." You grumbled, but let him speak anyway. "It seems my butler has resigned. And I'd like to give his position to you, as my personal maid." You could feel his smile against your ear.
"What? Your personal maid?" You shook involuntarily, gripping at his shirt. Butler positions are for life, no intelligent man would resign such a permanent and high-class job. In the game, the butler was so loyal, he was willing to share the MC with the King if it meant staying under his employment.
A particular route suddenly came to mind. It was one of the rarer endings, a bad one where the king goes berserk and kills quite literally everyone.
That was the one and only game ending in which the butler was no longer at Alric's side.
"He's dead," you whispered, eyes widening with realization.
You hadn't meant to speak your thoughts aloud, truly you hadn't. But the moment came so suddenly.
Sure, you hated the butler as you had grown to know him, but ultimately, he was your favorite character. He was a pious little shit whose arguing became a steady comfort within the chaos of a new life.
Before you knew it, tears were brimming against your face, trailing down and wetting his shirt as you clung to him.
"Shhh." King Alric whispered, holding you tighter. "How'd you know I killed him?" He slowly began trailing kisses against your neck, ending at your jaw with a wet tongue snaking its way across. "You always suspected me, huh? I noticed it. When we first locked eyes."
You mustered a little huh.
"You looked at me with such reverence. As if you knew I was faking for her affection."
A large hand clasped at your chin, forcing you to look up at King Alric with big, worried eyes. "What happened to her?"
His eyes darkened, his lids lowering as if entranced by your beauty despite his sinister anger. His thumb and pointer finger squeezed harder at your cheek.
"She and my butler are spending time together. Peacefully."
Ducking down, King Alric connected your lips, shoving his tongue into your mouth and exploring the wetness. He lowered his hand to your neck, never squeezing, only resting. If you resisted, you wondered if he would do it.
You didn't want to find out.
The plushness of your skin against his fingertips sent Alric reeling, a dizzying hotness spreading to his groin and flaring his skin with goosebumps.
"You're the only one," he muttered in between breaths. "The only one who accepts me - the real me."
"H-Hold on, Alric. You can't just-"
The words were shaken out of you when two large hands pushed you back. King Alric was in a frenzy, and the tight squeeze on your shoulders forced a yelp to escape your lips.
He was shocked.
"My name." Alric's voice was barely above a whisper.
Despite the absurd situation, you found yourself laughing, an exasperation present that worked up your confidence. "Yeah, your name."
There was a silence, and all you could do was scrutinize his now unrefined attire until your eyes landed on the growing tent in his pants. It looked almost painful, and a strange pooling in your stomach brought you back to reality.
"You're not real," you mustered out. "This is a game. It's all pixels. You don't exist, the butler isn't dead, and I'm definitely not about to..."
Your voice trailed off, the king's head cocking to the side in confusion.
"I'm not real?"
"You're not."
"Have you gone mad?"
"Maybe."
Alric smirked, encasing your hand beneath his, fingers guiding yours to the swell of his trousers. The softness of the fabric and stiffened bulge a clear indication of his desperate need.
"Is this not real?" You almost heard a whine in his voice when he asked this of you.
Your silence was deafening, and as the spoiled brat he is; took it as a confirmation to continue.
"Turn around." His voice was commanding, authoritative in the way you would expect of a true king. Alric spun you on your heels, pushing your maid's skirt up to situate himself behind you. His hand rubbed smooth circles against your ass cheeks and love handles. "Why don't you feel how real I am?" He whispered into your ear, nibbling at the tip before biting down.
Alric fumbled with releasing his dick, the appendage slapping at your thigh and the precum dribbling down your leg.
When you felt the tip go near the crevice of your thighs, you squealed but protested. "Not inside! Anything but inside."
Alric used his free hand to turn your face to look back at him, a thumb pressed into your bottom lip and cooing. "Anything for my little princess."
Your maniacal king honored his word, shoving his length between your legs instead of inside your aching pussy.
Slowly, he moved forward and backward, simply relishing in the feeling of your plush thighs rubbing against his dick oh so perfectly.
"God, you're amazing."
"You're doing so good for me."
"Juuust like that, princess."
The feeling of your clit rubbing against his shaft was nothing short of euphoric, sweet moans the only audible sound from you as you gorged yourself on the king's cock.
You hiked the front of your skirt over your forearms, a nimble hand reaching for Alric's tip and rubbing small circles.
Alric's head fell back, his grip on you tightening. "If you do that, I'll..." Your body began moving in sync with his, allowing yourself the stimulation he provided.
His speed increased; what was once long, dragged out movements became desperate bucks, short and quick and ever so pleasurable.
"I'm cumming, princess." Alric pressed his front into your backside, his large chest engulfing your frame as he chased his high, you not far behind him.
"Fuck, fuck fuck fuck..."
The milky white substance leaked from his tip, covering your hands and the inside of your maid's skirt. He continued, however, allowing you to feel the building pressure and release. The sounds of your perfect moans swallowed him whole.
And you were worried; because the feeling of his warm cum coating your hands and legs made you want to know what it would feel like inside of you.
"Why don't we continue in my chambers, little princess?"
CW: feet, blood kink , dehumanization, creepy behavior, heavy M tendencies from yan, n/c touching/kissing.
Since that night you sneaked off, the man you once called yours virtually kept trying to get you to talk. Trying to progress your relationship to whatever next level fantasy he’s conjured up in his head…Oh and also help with your pronunciation. Well….he was more of the former.
That was until..
He decided to host a party in his mansion for a collaboration with another business, some drink you offhandedly remember him talking about, Sounds of the buzzing voices, hastened footsteps of servants running across the huge house to prepare the upcoming evening event in a structured manner. You wanted to take a peek—just a little but fear holds you tight within that room and it’s four walls.
The party had long started when the sun had began to set but you stayed in your room, ears prickling to the muffled voices you can slightly hear past the door and down the stairs where the life stayed. You don’t join in the festivities, with the minuscule feeling of dread to seeing familiar faces and lingering memories of pain yet this man still buys you a…. dress.
It was white.
Absolutely gorgeous.
A dress so beautiful and extravagant you feel unworthy of even thinking of putting it on. Hand-beaded pearls and jewels decorated the floor-length dress, multiple layers of cloth and ruffles overlap each-other beautifully, it was modest—covering up parts that didn’t need to be seen yet there’s fabric that cinched perfectly against whatever curves one may have. When you saw the mannequin in your room with that dress on, you wondered of it’s purpose, fingers brushing against the expensive fabric.
“I want you to wear it,” his voice sounds from behind, you gasp, quickly turning around. You didn’t hear him, then again…
It’s what he was good at.
“I’m sorry” he apologizes, “I won’t force you to but…I just..want to see you in it.” He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “J—join…thum…?” You asked gesturing to below the house, where the party was still ongoing, “Oh, no no. You don’t have to join them—us. You can stay here if you want. It’s.. the dress isn’t for that..” he gulped, like he was having trouble saying the words he really wanted to say. “I’m sorry—again.” He sighs, “You—nevermind…it’s selfish of me to even ask you that.” He was muttering to himself before standing up straight to look at you. “Sorry, I’ll just….leave you alone for now.” He turned to walk away, to leave—get out and let you be for at least a few hours before he came to bother you once more….. and you should’ve let him go. Be happy that he wasn’t bothering you. In fact you should’ve made him leave as soon as possible.
Perhaps then…you could have avoided what happened that night. And the other nights.
“Wu—wa-it…” you finally speak out, your voice so quiet one would have to strain their ears to hear, a little part of you hoped he didn’t hear you, but the cease of his footsteps tells you differently. He turns, a smile you don’t what to decipher the meaning of sitting handsomely on that face of his. “Yes?” Instead of replying with words, you hold onto a sleeve of the dress, you can feel the heaviness of the jewels sewed into the cuffs of it, how much did this cost?
“You’ll wear it?” He asks hopefully. You stand there for a moment—hesitation evidently in your body language but you nod. That smile grows ever larger.
Due to the dress being so heavy, with a zipper to the back, he had to help you in it—of course letting you have a few moments to yourself put it on first before helping you zip it up.
He turns around once you were done, where he comes face to face with the bare skin of your back.
He stared at it for what seemed like hours, skin that was exposed to him, you stood still waiting for him—a few minutes pass and you let out a noise of confusion, “a-ah..sorry I forgot it had some parts to fix before I zip it up, let me do that first yeah?” He lets out a shaky breath when he realized something.
You weren’t wearing a bra.
At least he didn’t remember leaving you any, he assumed the maids had it covered but….
He bites his lip taring at the exposed skin welcoming his eyes, lowering his gaze til it rests to the bottom of the zipper, where a sliver of your undergarments was exposed and Fuck—he was hard. Fingers absent of their usual gloves shakily trace the sides of your body—you being none the wiser—you don’t know how intricate dresses of this world works, the ones he had gifted you before were simple enough yet this dress seemed very important and extremely expensive—if the diamonds and crystals decorating the hem of your neck wasn’t enough.
Brandishing you like a fine victim for criminals from a mile away with how brightly they sparkled under the chandelier hanging above you both.
You didn’t want to anger him by accidentally breathing too much and ripping a stitch that could cost you more than you could ever afford to pay. Yet you didn’t know how the man behind you, a man usually composed and stoic—never once batting an eye or taking a glance to the many women who yearn for his affection, is doing his best to not beg you to let him lay his kisses along your feet. Holding back from kissing the ground you walk on. Trying not to whip out his cock to release all over your soft back—it aches and throbs beneath his slacks and he knows he won’t last long if he stays with you any longer.
Quickly he zips it up, finishing the end details like pinning the flowers and tying up the ribbon that rests above your bum. He steps back, allowing you space to turn around for him.
His breathe hitches.
Already knowing how pretty you are from the dresses you obediently wore for days, he knew it would look gorgeous on you. But seeing you in his Mother’s wedding dress blew him away. You fit her perfectly he thinks, remembering his mother’s words
‘The perfect woman for you would be one who can fit into my wedding dress perfectly!’
That is your sign, she said. And now… here you are, literally dropped onto his doorstep like a gift from above—one that he abused so cruelly before—Oh but he’s changed!
He knew now, that you are the one for him.
His other half.
His one and only.
You were sent to complete him.
Fidgeting in place a little, you wonder if it looks bad, he’s been quiet for awhile now you think, not knowing the eureka he has just experienced just looking at you. “Umm…” you start, he blinks, “O-oh! Hah..sorry, got caught off guard by how.. Beautiful you look in it.” You hate how that made your scared little heart flutter. “Can you do a little twirl for me?” he requests softly, like a pet you obey, slowing turning til you’ve made a complete 360.
“Gorgeous.” Nodding his head in approval, “I also have the shoes to match if you’d like?” At that you shake your head no. you’ve already let him play dress up and that’s all you’ll give him tonight.
You hope.
He deflates a little, it’s almost hilarious but you can’t find it in you to laugh. “Well..that’s okay, here—come to the mirror so you can see for yourself.” with a hand to your waist, he leads you to the mirror floor length mirror across the room.
Holy shit, he was right.
You look gorgeous.
The dress fit you perfectly, glittering stones decorate you like a royal crown, you were right by assuming the dress cinched perfectly to your shape—wait yours? Well the dress did fit you to a T. You admired yourself in the mirror—not minding the weird man lovingly gazing at you from behind. You wonder if this is an apology from a higher power above. You’ve never felt this pretty wearing a dress.
Turning this way and that, you can’t find a bad angle at all!
It’s like the dress was… made for you.
Of course, normally you would assume that—he had the money afterall, but.. there was a certain…age to it. You don’t know why but you feel that this dress belonged to someone important once before….
“I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” he speaks up from behind, still admiring yourself you don’t turn to look at him, only nodding in response. After adoringly watching you for a few more minutes, he leaves.
———-
“You seem to be busy nowadays huh?” One of the many faceless men jokingly asks him, “Is there a…. missus we’ve never heard about?” Another pipes up beside him and in the response the crowd swirling around him laughs, “Oh nothing new, just something called…a job.” he deadpans.
The first man, he doesn’t remember his name but his red face was clearly a sign of his deep intoxication, “C’monnn~ you don’t have to hide it from us! Tell us, is she prettier than mine?” He nudges the man rudely, before pointing to his wife from across the room, wine sloshing in his cup due to how unstable he moves, “Hah! Forget about looks! How good is she in bed? She must be phenomenal with how much effort you spend to keep her hidden.” Another snickers, the men around them agree with hollers and jeers.
Of course, as ecpected from a party with heavy alcohol involved.
Animals. He sneers.
His eye twitches in response to those disgusting questions. Pigs, He internally scoffs at these pathetic men. “My good Sirs, it seems you have…. drunk your fill for the night, why don’t you go rest and….leave some for the rest of us, yeah?” Giving them his practiced smile, the men raise their own cups in agreement. Buncha yesmen.
Monkeys, another eye twitch. But he keeps the smile.
He can’t wait for this to be over.
——-
It’s finally over.
An exhausted sigh leaves his mouth.
After the party finally ends and the last guest departs, he leaves to return up to your quarters, the servants were left to clean up the mess left behind by unruly guests.
With a candelabra in hand, he walks up the flight of stairs to your floor.
The help don’t question their master and his sudden obsession with the pretty lady he keeps hidden in one of his many rooms. Knocking before entering to avoid another scare, he sees you still in the dress, all negative feelings leave him instantly, instead filling him with adoration one would have for a cute kitten—of course you were more than that to him.
“The party is over,” he starts, “I..” he clears his throat, “well—i know it’s..late but—” his hands goes to pull at his collar, “I would like to ask you….if you can join me for a dance?” You stare at him, a…dance? Something else he wants? You wanted to say No, you thought he was done for the night, he told you he would leave you alone.
Although you register later that it was a bad idea when you realized that you couldn’t take off the damn dress without his help.
So you decide that just for that night that you will…
Sleep in it.
But you haven’t been successful so far.
Like sure the jewels are hard as fuck and pinch you wrong sometimes but the fear of ruining it has rendered you sleepless yet now he was here—at first you thought he was here to help you take it off but instead he just wants another thing from you.
You should say no.
You nod your head yes. Fucking idiot. Your mind screams, you’re gonna get us killed!
“Can you…come with me?” A hand out for you to take, obediently you do. Why are you doing this? Why are you letting him do this?
Is this survival? Or are you still in love with the character you saw through a screen?
He brings you to a room at the end of the hall, it was unfamiliar, he lets you go for a moment to open it up, pushing the heavy wooden door to reveal a room much larger than yours, unlike the carpeted floors of your room. This one had polished floors instead— so shiny and clear you can see your reflection on it.
Leading you to a loveseat before a fireplace, you sit down, the material soft and comfortable underneath you. It’s been a while since you’ve sat on something quite as soft since you still vehemently refused to sleep on the bed in your room—too terrified to suddenly wake up to him above, just waiting for you to close your eyes so he can bring down the knife—so this is the first time you’ve felt such a soft cushion that wasn’t an armchair.
You hear him rummaging somewhere in the room but you fix your gaze to the burning flames before you.
Such warmth.
Soon his silhouette obscures your view and looking up, there’s a box in his hands. Kneeling in front of you, he opens the box—
It’s the heels you never bothered to wear.
It’s just as beautiful as the dress, all white and covered in diamonds—priceless gems, littered in like money wasn’t a problem for him. “I understand that you don’t want to wear it..but I would like to see you in them for just a while—just a few minutes, at least while we dance then you can take it off….please?” Refuse, he doesn’t deserve it, please say no—come on just this once say no…
SAYNOSAYNOSAYNO-
You nod. Pushing down the feelings of dread swirling in your gut and….lifted your right foot up.
Another uncharacteristic grin spreads across his face, taking out the shoe corresponding to it, his other hand gently cradles the heel of your foot. With no warning, he lifts it up before leaning down to kiss your toes one by one.
You freeze up but he doesn’t notice.
Starting from the littlest one, his lips tingle, each contact he makes creates mini electric shocks that travels from the tips of your toes to your back, making you grip at the seat beneath you. With the last kiss on the last appendage he slips on the shoe, before moving on to your left foot, giving it the same treatment. Gathering them both in his heavy palms he stares at them.
A perfect fit once again.
“Such beautiful feet,” he confesses, with one last kiss to each foot, he sets them down and gets up to bow at the waist. “May I have this dance?” You were still reeling from his alleged… fetish when you took notice of his awaiting hand,“but….no..so..und?” Pointing to your ear to wonder how you’re gonna dance without music.
A chuckle leaves him, “We won’t need any dear, just follow my steps.”
With slight hesitation you stand up and, despite the heels— he still towers over you, a clear distinction of the difference in size and strength that you know you can’t escape if he tried anything.
You purse your lips, wishing away the thoughts in your head before taking his hand—letting him lead you to the ‘dance floor’ which is just the large extra space behind the loveseat, both of you dance the remaining night away with him holding you delicately in his arms, the sweet hum of his voice as he sang a song to fill the silence between you.
He had a beautiful one—a voice you probably would’ve fangirled over for days if not for the history between you two. The whole time your gaze stays on the floor, trying to match his steps to avoid stepping on the dress or his feet though you wish you did step on his feet. Bare fingers, absent of the gloves he usually wears gently pull your face to look at him, forcing you to stare into the eyes you yourself have stared at for hours before dropping into this world.
Eyes that were once full of hatred and disgust—now only show pure love and adoration, without warning he leans forwards as if to kiss you—
Quickly turn your head so his lips meet your cheek instead, fear immediately grips you. Both bodies stop moving, the only thing illuminating the room was the roaring fireplace and the moon shining through the huge window that bathe you both in it’s shine. Was he going to get mad you didn’t let him kiss you? You begin to feel the sweat building up beneath the now-suffocating layers of fabric on your skin.
Soft he hums internally to himself.
Stepping back away from you. He admires you in the glowing moonlight—wishing he had one of those —’memory keepers’ he hears about in his travels through town so he can keep a remembrance of what you’d look like on your wedding day to him.
In turn you stare at him shrouded in the shadows of the room, a perfect parallel between you too.
A gentle hand grabs yours to lead you to a bed you never noticed—by now you realize this must be his room, sitting you down before once more kneeling before you, removing the heels one by one before going on to massage them. He asks you if you’re alright, merely nodding in reply—the conversation continues like this, with you barely responding with your mouth.
However what went from a normal conversation turned into another session where he releases his pent-up guilt and shame, pain and anguish racking through him as he recounts the day he murdered you, “May a creature as sweet as you never forgive,” he begs, pressing a weeping face to your lap, “All I want—all I deserve…is your ire,” he shudders, “Your anger, the hurt, to yell at me—anything and everything that you will grant me.” A strong hand grips yours—now sweaty in his grasp, bringing it to his face to kiss your fingertips, “Let me feel it, I will endure it all because I deserve it and now I realize..”
He turns his gaze up at you, looking more like a humble servant to a beautiful goddess than a powerful Lord, “That it is love that I feel deep within me, love that I cannot express in words alone, love that consumes me whole with thoughts of you.” He almost whimpers when you stroke his face, thumb brushing against a stray tear at the edge of his eyes. His breathe shudders and moving his face closer to your warm hand.
“And it’s with this love, that I promise to serve and protect you til the day I die, to love you until you tire of me and need me no longer. I will do anything and everything in my power to provide for you and anything it is that you will ever need.”
You can’t feel a thing. It’s the same song and dance for days—although he tells you it’s okay to take your anger out on him—have your revenge. You can’t.
You couldn’t raise a finger to hurt him—not then and not now. You don’t have it in you. You weren’t a violent person and despite your anguish—a plan to hurt him back never crossed your mind.
Was it survival?
God, You just wanted to get out and go live belong somewhere peacefully.
You sit there while he sniffles silently, other hand moving to stroke at his head—a stray thought musing on how soft his hair was, then without thinking, you lead his head to rest at your bosom—and like a dam was released within him, he begins to weep. At the sight of it, you feel your own eyes welling up with tears before they roll down your cheeks.
It was a few stray drops at first, ones you easily blink away, then non-stop tears pour out yet you don’t make a sound, instead you cradle him like one does a baby.
That night, the both of you sleep side by side for the first time.
———
Things changed after that night, becoming more tolerable—somehow and….normal for you at least. you don’t feel afraid of his sudden touches like you normally do and it seems he has noticed this—often pulling you into hugs or peppering you with kisses on your head, hands or even feet if you allowed him too.
Winter has come and you—surprisingly found it more comfortable sleeping next to him on your bed during the colder months, his body unnaturally warmer than most. He never tried anything, not once has he breached anymore than quick hugs and subtle kisses.
But it all escalated the one time you kissed him back, it was a quick one barely even a peck on his cheek yet his face went as red as the wine he often drank. He spent the whole day stuttering around you, his gaze unable to meet yours.
Of course that little action from you left him hard as diamonds—leaving to quickly relieve him multiple times a days like a horny teen in the many dark corners of his mansion, a desperate hand rubbing his shaft and remembering the soft feel of your lips…imagining it wrapped around his throbbing length—with a strangled groan, he cums hard, spilling his precious seed into a handkerchief you once used. He hastily cleans himself up before anyone sees.
He’s had to repeat this process a few more times later that day regardless.
You got used to doing that—leaving him a little kiss on his cheek every time he brought you breakfast or a gift, a little part of you was smug that you got this usually emotionless man to blush like lovestruck-teen.
Of course you didn’t know that he was secretly hoarding all the panties you’ve ever worn since living in that room.
Beating his aching meat to the scent of your precious cunt pressed to his nose every night without fail. Tongue licking up and down where your pussylips would have been smushed up against—tasting what little you gifted him.
Yet despite the orgasms wracking his body night after night, he was never satisfied. But he would never pressure you—He wouldn’t dare to even think to ask you. No matter how much he wants nothing more than to slam you onto his desk that night you both danced and pump you full of his seed. Or the days after when his head was filled with thoughts of putting you in a mating press and fucking you til you were leaking his cum for days, letting him clean up the mess with his tongue before shoving his cock back in to leave another heavy load deep in your surely tight cunt.
His body ached with need but his respect—or lack thereof for your privacy and guilt holds him back, he has no right to demand anything of you. Grateful for what little you bestow upon him. Keeping them in his heart like precious treasures. Which they are.
However one winter night changed the trajectory everything for the both of you. You had kissed him goodnight like you always did, however you left it on his lips instead of his cheek as usually. He was shocked, obviously. Almost dropping the tray holding what little remained of the dinner you both shared.
His eyes locked onto you, then without thinking, he drops the tray—glass shatters but he pays no mind to it. Moving to hold you gently as he kisses you back—it was desperate and wanting. Accepting it, you lean forward, pushing back and angling your head to meld your lips together, a moan escapes him—like he was finally rewarded of something he was deprived of for ages.
Hands travelled to your hips before moving to your thighs, with brute strength he lifts you, you instantly wrap your hands around his neck and your legs around his waist, the fabric of your dress bunching around your waist—you pull back to balance yourself but he chases your lips, “No, no please..come back” he begs, moving his head to connect your lips, your kisses were like air to him, he desperately explores your mouth with his tongue, coaxing your own shy one to dance with his, he carries you to the bed, never once leaving the lip-lock you were both engaged in—almost crushing you underneath his weight when he slams you both on it, slightly bouncing from the mattress resistance.
Tongues fighting for dominance he easily lets you win, moaning as you take what you want from him. You pull back, catching your breath. Panting is all the noise that echoes—you stare into his eyes, those eyes that once harbored such disdain.
Eyes that now look at you with such love it was laughable. You suddenly feel an itch.
You don’t know why but the memories suddenly flood through you, the pain and helplessness you’ve felt for weeks and months after his torture made you feel dirty.
Your fingers were itching for something. An urge you don’t know.
He simpers down at you, eager and patiently awaiting for your next move.
Your right eye twitches and without warning—you reach for it, soft fingers rest gently against his eyelid that closes as soon as he sees it approaching. You rub your finger over it, he realizes what’s going through your head and he smiles at your ‘idea’.
With ease, he picks you up and turns you both until you are now sitting on his lap, letting you feel the big, hard bulge pressing against your own embarrassingly weeping panties.
“Go ahead.”
With that answer, he enables you to do what you’ve been wanting to for days.
Your finger pierces his eye socket, digging around as though looking for something—what are you looking for? The blood pours from the wound you’re causing, staining your hands and his face a ghoulish red but his smile doesn’t drop, and not a hint of pain is present in his other eye, hands dutifully kept at your sides, massaging your hips with his thumbs as if to encourage you.
Without stopping, you push further-further-further. Feeling the ball of his eye and the fleshy sinew that would’ve had you disgusted but your mind is blank and your hand doesn’t stop gouging it outoutout til…
Pop!
It hangs there, his once beautiful eye is hanging by one fleshy thread, one that you easily yank off with your other free hand, staring at it now—you can’t help but compare it to the one he stole from you.
Looks similar, your mind blankly states.
The whole time he never lets out a sound of pain, not an ounce of movement to indicate that that he didn’t want this. You show him the eyeball—almost as if it was something you won rather than something you savagely took from him. Like he did you.
He gives you a small grin—almost proud, you move to drop it into the glass of water he always leaves you with by the nightstand. Watching the orb bounce around for a few moments before it stills. The eye moves to stare at you and you almost think it was alive.
Moving to pull your fingers out until a desperate, “No!” Leaves him, hand coming up to stop you from exiting the wound.
You freeze.
“No.” He says again, gently this time. “Do it more….please.” He was almost panting now, the blood pouring down his face made him more handsome somehow or maybe you’re just as sick as him.
“Make it so that it scars.…” Practically begging you, it was then you feel it, the bulge throbbing underneath you.
He was still hard.
As though the excruciating pain of having his eye pulled out—you know how that feels, was nothing. As though to reward him with his good behavior, you grind against him and he moans. You continue to prod around, moving your fingers and pressing against the soft flesh pumping blood beneath your fingers til he lets out a loud moan and you know he had just cum untouched. He slouches as though exhausted, and you pull out your fingers, staring at the blood covering your digits, you think of how dirty they are.
Your gaze move to his still open mouth, panting after such a toe-curling orgasm. Pushing them into his gaping maw, he eagerly sucks on them, gratefully looking at you with so much love he can portray in his now one eye.
You don’t feel a single regret.
——
The next day had everyone shocked at his ‘new look’, the eyepatch over his left eye had some people gushing with rumors over who could’ve destroyed such a handsome face. Rumors he instantly stilled with his harsh words and the many screaming victims in his basement who dared tarnish your precious ‘reward’ to him unknowingly.
When asked, all he answers that it was ‘an accident’ yet it was said with such fondness people wonder what truly happened, as if his eye wasn’t currently being kept with you. Like he didn’t go through such lengths to encase it in a container and preservation magic so you could always view it whenever you wanted.
Your lives had ‘suddenly’ …..improved, spending more time with him in his room, reading the many books that littered his shelves or having him read them to you by the fireplace when it got to cold to stay in your room.
He adores it when you invade his space.
Leaving your scent all over his sheets. Which he would huff all morning when you leave like an addict, strangling his oozing morning wood with the panties you ‘accidentally’ left in his room til he spills all over them like a wretched dog in a rut he can’t control.
Occasionally you both would go out for nightly walks and catch fireflies to keep in jars, sometimes you’d play hide and seek—you inwardly found it morbidly funny that he only had one eye to find with in the darkness.
Yet he always won whether he was the seeker or the hider.
—-
And one day, you called for him—your sweet voice spilling from your delicate lips.
His name.
The only thing you’ve gotten used to saying over and over without stuttering.
He still remembers the day when you spoke his name for the first time, he had instantly gone rock hard, body locking up before an orgasm shot through him.
He inwardly moans at the memory, even now as you got used to calling out his name—the effect hasn’t worn off, he doesn’t think it ever will as hearing you hum was enough to have him swell with desire. You speaking just his name instantly stiffens him with arousal, cocking already leaking pre like he hasn’t released for weeks yet he had just recently shot a load that morning when you rubbed your sock-covered feet all over it, all cute with lace flowers decorating the hem, alll over his disgustingly huge cock. Little feet massaging his worthless meat til you allow him to spill all over your delicate skin.
Before he begged you to let him use his tongue to clean up your dirtied up feet like a good dog.
Ah, good times.
Of course, you still didn’t let him touch you there, nothing beyond sweet kisses and heavy makeouts where his hands stayed at your waist like a gentleman despite the not-so-gentleman thoughts running through his head whenever your lips lock together in a dance that leaves him breathless and aching with desire for days.
Staggering to you, he kneels instantly, almost falling as he grips your dress.
Your breasts almost spill from the tight corset of your dress, creating a delicious view for his eyes only, yet his focuses his gaze on your eyes, beautiful and full of mirth. A delicate hand covered in many rings he’s gifted you clutches at your lower tummy, almost caressing it.
“What’s wrong, my love? Are you in pain?” His worried voice had you melting a bit—just a bit.
Before you lift your dress, another pretty one, in the colors pink and red. leaning back to help you push it further, “Is the wound here?” He comes face to face, to your white panties, an innocent color, yet the clear indent of your puffy clit from where he sucked it nonstop this morning was indecently still there. Pressed up as though seducing him for another taste—and his mouth waters for a second round til he notices something…
Blood.
There was blood where it should just be white where your slit was. At first, panic fills him. Thoughts of a hidden wound he never noticed causing you pain. About to ask you just that, he halts when he feels the slight shaking of your body and he realizes that you’re silently laughing.
Oh.
“Oh darling..” he murmurs, relief flooding him before nuzzling your thigh, “Have you started your monthly?” A nod tells him his guess was correct. Although you’ve had multiple periods throughout the months you’ve stayed in this mansion, you never once told him nor did he ask.
Months in the mountains had you finding ways to soak up the blood without the use of pads and if he ever noticed the missing expensive cotton sheets you’ve used and cut up to stuff in your underwear. He never commented.
But now…you don’t know why but you’ve decided to spare his poor sheets you know he’s had to replace multiple times—ones you know costs way too much for just bedsheets. Of course you wished you felt bad, but in a way it felt… cathartic. letting your ‘dirty’ blood stain his hard-earned money.
He feels grateful that you feel comfortable enough to let him take care of you even more, immediately asking you what you want him to do. “Would you like the maids to prepare you some food for strength? Or a warm compress perhaps? I heard it helps with stomach pains.” You shake your head no and he chuckles, “Well, I can’t read your mind my love, mind showing it to me?” slowly cupping his face with both hands before moving it to the top of his head—
And pushing it down into your cunt, right into his face.
His eyes widen, “My oh my….” He moans, breathing in the heady scent that is you, “Of course, my mistress, anything you need.” Mouthing you through your underwear before impatiently pulling it down to voraciously eat you out. Countless praises leave his lips while he pleasures you dutifully, moans of how your delightful taste and addicting flavor overflow in his mouth. Grinding his nose against your puffy clit, he nudges even closer as if trying to bury himself there—well he definitely wouldn’t mind dying right here, right now.
This was heaven.
He doesn’t stop sucking and licking you til you’ve reached your third orgasm, you wiggle for him to let go and he instantly moves away.
Face covered in blood and slick, he is filled with satisfaction. A grin is present on his face, showing off bloodied teeth as though he had just violently ripped into a bloody corpse, “Thank you, love.”
A happy sigh leaves him, “Oh I do hope you’re feeling better now.” A blush spreads across your face at his shamelessness but you nod down at him.
After that very incident where you had gifted him with a direct taste to your cunt for the first time, he became addicted, of course you still didn’t let his cock anywhere in you—he wasn’t worthy of that yet, or maybe never.
For now it was just a huge, useless hunk of meat that hung between his legs like a breeding stud.
One that—pathetically didn’t do any breeding.
Precious seed that could’ve been the next heir to his countless riches, heirs that people were waiting for, counting on to continue his prestigious bloodline—was spilled unapologetically daily at your command. He lets you do with him as you please, never once uttering a ‘No’ to whatever you wanted.
Did you want him to kneel before you for hours while he read to you? He’s already on his knees before you uttered a word.
Want him to eat you out every morning before you wake? a delicious toe-curling orgasm is the first thing that greets you in the morning, mouth obediently pleasuring you until you tell him to stop.
Are you in the mood to abuse his cock with whatever tool or torture method that piqued your interest that afternoon? He’ll provide you the tools and leave himself defenseless to your every touch.
—
One day he had come home to you, gifting him a handmade eyepatch in your favorite color—for the wound you preciously gave to him. He had eaten you out so ravenously that day, making you cum so many times you went cross-eyed. It was a miracle you could still feel your legs.
It was a known ’secret’ that you owned his very being. That you were now the new master of his everything. The holder of his heart and the owner of his soul.
He may be the lord of his mansion and countless faces that served him dutifully day and night, yet you are his one true goddess—his only reason for living.
The only reason he gets on his knees daily for worship, for confession,
For forgiveness.
Whether it’s between your legs where you bless him with your sweet juices, or letting him rut against your precious feet to get off like a desperate dog. And if he was really lucky, you would grant him with your golden shower, letting your sweet cunt release all over him when his begging finally pays off.
Dick hanging out of his pants untouched like an unwanted dirty thing, leaking all over the floor like an untrained mutt in heat while he licks up your pussylips, drinking up the slick and piss you allow him to. His lips latches onto your clit like a babe, sucking dutifully til you bless him with your cum, he comes just as hard as soon as your release hits his face. Cock twitching helplessly with every spray of cum that leaves his cockhead, leaving a nasty puddle underneath you.
He hopes you will order him to lick it up while you step on his head like the pig he is.
He loves the feeling of your spent filling his senses. Practically inhaling your cunt til you yourself have to yank him away lest he passes out due to the lack of oxygen entering his airways again.
He wants you to leave your mark all over him, permanent ones if you will, pleading you to press harder everytime you dig your nails ever so deep into his skin. Wishing you’d choke him til he lost consciousness and your marks are evident all over his neck which he’d wear proudly.
He wants you to break him.
God, he wishes you would just break him like he was nothing.
Reshape and mold him into the form that you desire.
And he knows it’s only a matter of time til you do.
He can’t wait for the day he truly becomes worthy of being ‘Yours’.
▶︎ Painful Prince (starring. some original characters Various! x Fem!reader)
synopsis. You were thrown into this world, a book that you read from time to time and now this was just a small day of respite with the Knight.
cw: Some obsessive behaviour in this one
This series is mainly one shot based and are all in a cohesive universe.
"Why is it you have no incentive to fight?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned close enough for his breath to brush against your ear.
You instinctively took a step back. "What are you talking about?"
A slow smile tugged at his lips. "Oh, come on, gorgeous." His tone was light, teasing. "I know you're all brains."
"Stop it." You raised a hand between you, intending to create some distance, but he didn't seem offended. If anything, he looked amused.
"What?" he asked with a soft chuckle. "I know you understand how things work around here."
Before you could move, he gently reached for your hand. His fingers wrapped around yours with surprising tenderness before he placed your palm against his chest. Beneath it, his heartbeat was steady. Then, without breaking eye contact, he lifted your hand and pressed a lingering kiss against your wrist.
"I also know," he said quietly, "that you're not from here."
Your breath caught.
"So tell me..." His amber eyes searched yours. "Why?"
You carefully pulled your hand back. "I'm sure you're mistaken." You forced a nervous laugh. "I'm just... just someone doing their job."
It was an easy excuse. One that implied nothing more than the obvious difference between a noble like him and someone of your status.
But Theron simply smiled. "Actually," he said, shaking his head, "you're completely wrong about that."
He stepped closer again, close enough that only you could hear his next words. "I think we're from the same place."
His fingers found yours once more, slowly intertwining them as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "I just want to know..." His voice softened. "How did you become you?"
Your mind went completely blank. None of this made sense. Theron was supposed to be one of Veria's main love interests the charming prince everyone adored, one of the strongest contenders destined to win her heart. ever since you'd arrived in this world, he'd shown almost no romantic interest in her. Instead… He kept seeking you out.
"You know," he continued, finally taking a step back, "I was a huge fan of these stories when they were still being released." You stared at him.
"I also had a crush."
"...What?"
"There was this girl." His smile turned almost nostalgic. "I'd see her reading the newest chapter during every break at work."
Your stomach dropped. "At... work?"
He laughed softly.
"Don't you remember?" His eyes met yours with unmistakable recognition. "You always looked cute standing behind the café counter, making drinks for people while trying to sneak in a few pages before another customer walked in."
The world seemed to tilt beneath your feet. "...How?"
The word barely escaped your lips.
"I wish I knew." He shrugged, though there was something almost delighted in his expression. "Guess it's just my luck." His grin widened. "I ended up here... and somehow, you did too.”
You stared at him, your thoughts racing. "No..." You shook your head. "That doesn't make any sense."
"If you're from where I'm from..." You searched his face desperately. "Then who are you?"
A beat of silence stretched between you.
"If you're really from my world..." you whispered, "...how are you Theron?"
His smile faltered for the first time.
"Questions, questions." A flicker of frustration crossed his face before it disappeared behind another practiced smile. "Unfortunately..." He let out a quiet laugh. "...those are questions I don't have the answers to either."
You stared at him for another moment before pulling your hand free.
"Either way..." you said firmly, taking another step back, "not to be an ass, but you can't act like this with me."
He blinked. "What?"
"you're grabbing my hands, kissing my wrist, talking about having a crush on me..." You gestured vaguely between the two of you. "That's not normal especially in this world, news flash but you're royalty."
His expression tightened. "You don't get it."
"No, I don't."
He exhaled sharply through his nose.
"Look." His voice became more urgent. "What I'm trying to say is that you know everything this world has to offer. I don't want to hear some bullshit excuse that you 'don't know enough.'"
Your shoulders stiffened. So what if you'd read the novels? So what if you knew every plot twist, every betrayal, every ending? That didn't make you the heroine.
It didn't even make you important.
If anything, it made you painfully aware of how insignificant you were. You'd read enough isekai stories to know what happened to people who interfered too much. Side characters died. Villainesses were hunted down. Innocent people became collateral damage because someone wanted to "fix" the story.
You weren't the protagonist. You never wanted to be.
"Easy for you to say," you muttered, folding your arms across your chest. "You literally became one of the main characters."
He frowned.
"And besides..." you continued, "my life isn't awful. I'm actually content with where I ended up."
A scoff escaped him. "Yeah?"
His eyes narrowed. "With that stupid little male posse following you around?"
You couldn't help rolling your eyes.
"Need I remind you," you shot back, pointing a finger at his chest, "you're supposed to be part of a certain 'male posse.'"
"I already told you." His answer came without hesitation. "I had a crush on you."
You pinched the bridge of your nose. "That doesn't matter."
"It matters to me."
"It really shouldn’t." You sighed heavily. "Even if what you're saying is true, there's no way we could just... be together." You waved a hand between you. "We don't know each other."
His jaw clenched. "What, are you scared the story's going to get messed up because you're acting weird?"
His shoulders visibly sagged
. "...That's definitely a factor” you paused "And," you continued before he could interrupt, "I don't even know who you are."
Silence. "You know who I used to be."
"from what im hearing a random guy who apparently watched me from across a café."
His expression froze.
"Which, by the way..." You took another cautious step backward. "...is honestly kind of creepy."
His smile vanished completely.
"Borderline stalker ish, actually."
For the first time since he'd cornered you, the air between you became genuinely uncomfortable.
Your heart pounded. You needed to leave. How long had you been gone? Too long. This was Veria's family's ball. Every noble house was present, including foreign dignitaries.
If anyone happened to glance into this hallway, what would they see? The crown prince of a neighboring kingdom standing far too close to one of Veria's maids.
No one would believe you'd done nothing wrong. At best, it would become gossip. It could be interpreted as espionage. Seduction. Treason.
You'd only been given the evening off because Veria insisted her attendants enjoy the celebration instead of hovering over her.
Now you were trapped in an empty corridor with a man who clearly wasn't thinking rationally.
"...Does that matter?" he asked quietly.
The question was so soft it almost didn't sound like him. You looked back. His posture had changed. Gone was the playful prince. His shoulders were tense, his smile completely absent.
"In our previous life..." His voice had grown frighteningly calm. "You never looked at me."
Your stomach twisted.
"I existed in the same space as you for months."
His eyes never left yours.
"You smiled at customers. You laughed with your coworkers. You recommended books to regulars. But you never looked twice at me."
Something cold settled in your chest. "So what?"
He took one slow step forward. "Now..." A smile slowly returned to his face, though it never reached his eyes. "I can give you everything. Anything you could possibly want."
His hand lifted toward your face. Almost instinctively, you flinched, but his fingertips only brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear with such gentle care.
"And all I'm asking..." His voice dropped to a whisper. "...is that you finally look at me."
A chill crawled down your spine. Whatever the hell was wrong with this guy, you needed to get as far away from him as possible.
"I'm looking at you," you answered, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.
For a brief second, satisfaction flickered across his face. That was all the opening you needed. You shoved past him. The sudden movement caught him off guard just enough that his hand slipped from your arm, and you bolted down the corridor.
"Hey! "
You didn't stop. Your skirts tangled around your legs as you sprinted, your formal maid's uniform never intended for running through palace hallways. Every step threatened to send you sprawling onto the polished marble floors.
You didn't dare look back. Your heart hammered against your ribs. You'd built a quiet life for yourself. Stayed out of noble politics. Avoided every major event unless your duties demanded it.
So why… Why was he acting as though the entire world revolved around you?
A male posse? The thought almost made you laugh despite your panic. You hadn't pursued a single one of them. If anything, they kept finding excuses to appear wherever you were. Pure coincidence. It had to be. ...Right?
From across the ballroom entrance, Wyll caught the unmistakable flash of soft pink disappearing down the western corridor. His brows knitted together.
"...Y/N?"
Without thinking, he stepped after you. Something was wrong.
Before he could follow, movement in the same corridor caught his attention. Someone else emerged.
Prince Theron.
The prince strolled back toward the ballroom hands tucked behind his back as though he'd simply taken a leisurely walk through the palace gardens.
He looked… Happy.
As they passed each other, Theron tilted his head ever so slightly. His gaze lingered on Wyll for only a second before drifting to the sword hanging at the knight's hip.
Then he smiled. It was small. Smug.
Disgust curled in Wyll's stomach before he even understood why.
"The loyal knight act," Theron said lazily as he walked past, "is getting a little overdone."
Wyll stopped in his tracks. "...What?"
Theron didn't answer. He simply continued toward the ballroom. Then, just before disappearing through the grand doors, he glanced over one shoulder.
"You should hurry." His smile widened. "She looked terrified."
Wyll didn't hesitate. He turned on his heel and sprinted after you.
Guysssss I need help! I’m looking for a fic I read. its not about any soecific character but it was about a yandere 1950’s husband of this miserable wife that the reader isekaied into. The reader starts listing down things that he likes food wise and gives him the affection his old wife did not give him and so he falls madly in love with this new version of his wife. Then he finds out that the reader is in his wife’s body and decides to try and stop her from leaving and getting back to her world. Please let me know if you can find it and link it in the comments!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The book stayed on her mind for the next few days. Everywhere she went, it felt like someone was watching her. Y/n found herself rereading the letter and the book whenever she was free. She went over every page and squinted to see if she could find a hint of something more. Her mind kept wandering to the possibility of a connection between Open Your Mind, whoever N.R was, and her journey.
From the characters to the feeling of fate, the world-building was all familiar but new. She wanted to believe it was just her imagination, but there was a lingering thought of ‘what if’.
What if the author of this silly little book had experienced the same things she did? As she lay in bed, looking at the ceiling, the letters from Law she reread for the nth of times on her nightstand, she began feeling a sliver of excitement.
The letters had been so cryptic, yet so hopeful. The steps she needed to open the portal were clear enough but from the letter from ‘L’ she believed there to be something more to the story. There must be something she was missing.
The instructions had said she needed to wait for a “month of stabilizing” before attempting to open the portal, the truth was, the thought of really meeting Law again, seeing them all again, filled her with an intoxicating mixture of excitement and fear.
She let out an angry huff at herself there was nothing truly to be excited about, especially when there was a letter from a random ‘L’. The random letter could have been from Luffy and the crew, but, thinking of that world that she once knew, when everything was still shiny, new, and exciting her heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.
She sat up from her bed quickly heading to the kitchen huffing and puffing like a 1940s cartoon character. She’d moved on, hadn’t she? She had a whole new life now—-closer than ever to family and friends—-but how could one forever truly forget the magic of that world?
That feeling of belonging, the constant adventure without the worry of assignments, money, etcetera. The strawhats were her fantasy that jumped off the page and Law jumped right into her heart. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the teapot boiling.
She hummed pouring the water into her cup anticipating the camomille to calm down her brain. With the cup in her hand, she quietly padded through the hall back to her room to see her phone dimly lit up.
A text.
Have you started?
Her heart skipped a beat. She glanced at the calendar—April was nearly halfway through. “ Shit.” She whispered. Time was ticking faster than expected she needed to get moving. But where would she begin?
How could she be 100% sure that the portal would work? What happens if Law isn’t on the other side? She felt overwhelmed and quickly sipped the tea to calm herself. “Thank god for camomille,”
She briskly typed back:
I need a little bit more time but I’m working on it.
Don’t Worry.
The warm tea soothed her nerves as she began writing down her plans for the next week when she realized she had no idea who the text was from. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, the weight of the decision hanging heavy on her chest.
There were too many unknowns for this not to be too good to be true. The number of unforeseen variables was enough to send her right to bed that night, leaving her teacup half full.
She dreamt of them. The smell of the sea air, the wind flowing through her and Nami’s hair as they picked tangerines, the chaos that raved through the boat. Although brief, that world had been hers too, The strawhats scared the shit out of her but the bliss of that dream had fully made up her mind before she was even lucid.
Y/n was returning to the world of OnePiece to finish what she started.
The last few weeks of April and the early days of March were filled with study sessions, late-night preparations, and endless questions that made the back of her throat itch. Y/n made sure to follow every step diligently: no electronics at night, keep the curtains open during the day, and ensure that the mirror stays spotless.
But the anxiety never truly left her, no matter what tea she drank or what she did to distract her restless mind.
Despite the lingering doubts, she knew it was only a matter of time before the portal opened. One night after the other, when she knew her mother was asleep and the house was quiet, she stood in front of the mirror.
Making sure it was pristine and hoping to find out which ‘L’ was waiting for her on the other side. Her fingers hesitated to brush against the glass, and for a second, she wondered if this was all a dream and she would wake up in a psych ward.
On Thursday, March 7th, she felt the hum of power in the air. The little hairs on her neck stood tall and the moon was full shining through her window. She bit her lip till it almost bled and closed her eyes, just as instructed, visualizing the portal opening.
The seconds dragged on, each one stretching over what felt like the course of a thousand years. She opened her eyes and saw…nothing. Her reflection was the same as it always has been.
But just as she was about to give up, there was a flash of light, and the mirror flickered like an old television screen. Y/n gasped as the image distorted, and for the briefest of moments, she thought she saw something—or someone—on the other side.
A face.
Trafalgar Law.
Her heart raced, her palms clammy with anticipation. She reached out, hand trembling as she touched the mirror once more. The surface felt different now, softer, warmer. There was a crackle of energy, and she heard a faint voice.
“You did it.”
It was Law's voice, unmistakable. Her breath caught in her throat as she took a step forward.
- I was gonna make another arcane isekai post but then I kind of thought this would be a nice little thought idea for anybody reading this might like to think about! It’s a isekai idea but I was kind of curious about if I was isekai into a whole new reality/world like y/n, what world would I likely be chuck into. I don’t mean like what place I LIKE to go but what would I logically be sent to and why.
- the reason why I had this idea is because of the whole Richard Grayson being Richard Parker fanfics! Why this spark this idea is that I am related to two people who have the same names in the bat family and myself also has the same name as another family member in the bat family so the ideas of being mistaken as an alternate version of their family would be funny but it’s just odd it happen three times. like think of the drama and utter chaos that would bring that is the only reason why I get isekai over to the dc world🥲 I mean isekai it’s cool on paper and thoughts but in real life? I’m utterly fucked, I would die in an instant. I do not in any form have the ability to look tough and and throw hands like you do in Gotham😭 I’ll just feel bad! I legit save two ants in the sink as I felt bad when I wash the dishes they would drown you think I’m making a second over there? Nah🤡 but since I have too many coincidences with the bat family truck-kun or who however thought this would funny would ABSOLUTELY throw my ass there for shit and giggles!
- okay aside from that rant I am curious on other people’s ideas on where they would logically get throw into if they were isekai as it could lead to some unique plots and stories!!
: I read some manhwas about this and was practically begging on my knees to find some more so I just decided to come out of hiatus and write some...
: manipulation, gaslighting, FEM reader X FEM yandere, stalking, giggles, rumour abt SA, also Eloise is also a victim to the isekai so she's self aware, y/n usage
🦈 Ah.. the cliche reincarnated into the villainess trope! Being hit by a big brightening truck and the next time you open your eyes is in the body of a villainess who died from the male lead after harassing the protagonist.
🦈 You didn't want to die so early! In order to prevent this death, you instead befriended the female lead, Eloise. Well it did in fact prevent your death, but it costed your freedom.
🦈 You met Eloise while you were walking through your arranged fiance's castle hallways. She was being gossiped about by the maids all over the castle. You, of course, wanted to befriend her so you demanded them to apologise to her.
uh oh.. ELOISE has a new love target!
🦈 Eloise couldn't believe her eyes! The evil villain she's supposed to defeat.. being nice? Well whatever, it's probably just a bug in the system!
🦈 That was what she thought until you started to talk to her with genuine and honest intentions, sending her small gifts and sometimes even inviting her for tea.
🦈 Oh, she was smitten.. She started to follow and stalk after you, making sure to learn allll of your tiny habits. When Eloise had finally run into the male lead, she couldn't care less. Well until she saw him yelling at you.
That will not tolerated towards her beloved.
🦈 She made a plan to eliminate the male lead before he had the chance to abuse you anymore! Using her innocent looks, she managed to spread rumours of him being a creep and trying to grope her. This rumour was spread all over the school, causing him to be expelled.
🦈 Now that her obstacle was gone, she can finally court her beautiful villainess <33.. You were shocked when the male lead was expelled, and when Eloise approached you oh so happily.
🦈 Eloise asked you to go to a tea party with her in her family's home. You hesitantly agreed and when night fell, you walked with her to her home since you trusted her. Surely the female lead is not... Bad, right?
🦈 You entered the small cottage, feeling cozy and warm. Suddenly, Eloise locked the door and put a cloth to your nose and lips.
