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#In the moment when people are around ill feel good but i end up 'over selling it' probably
inkskinned · 2 years
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it's been said before and i'm sure said better than i can phrase it. but really, really - if you like making "i'm going to kill myself" jokes, please try switching to being ironically conceited instead.
anytime something goes wrong, say things like "ah well at least i'm beautiful and charming and everyone loves me." when you forget something, try "my big huge brain is so smart and thinking about too many other very big wizardly thoughts you wouldn't even understand." when you're frustrated by one of your symptoms, start talking like you're in My Immortal. "Life has come for me but my eyes are beautiful pools of gorgeous fire and my hair is amazing. I stuck my middle finger up at life and told it to fuck off and it did."
just... try it for a month or two. try saying the most absurdly self-congratulatory shit you can think of.
i know it's tempting to make suicide or self-harm jokes. and for me at least, a decade ago (!) when someone suggested i stop making those kinds of jokes, i was kind of at a loss for what to replace them with. i wanted to make light of these moments, but genuinely (at the time) my first thought really was suicidal ideation. there was a part of me that even felt like ... i was kind of "making light" of that voice. that if i could say i want to die lol, it would help take the sting out of that genuine (albeit passive) desire. like i could turn my illness into a joke.
when i started complimenting myself instead, it felt awkward and stupid. it felt really, really ironic. what i was actually saying was nobody would ever think this stuff about me, that's what makes it so fucking funny.
but. the effect was immediate. first thing i noticed was the people around me. when i dropped a glass and said ah my skin is too beautiful and sleek the glass has swooned and broken for me, other people were suddenly overjoyed to jump in with the joke. rather than making an awkward moment, we'd both start cracking up. ah princess sleek hands, i've heard of you.
i was 19. i hadn't noticed i'd been making others tense when i said i want it all to end. i know now that it's incredibly hard to know how to walk that moment - do you talk to them about your concern? do you potentially make them uncomfortable by asking if they're okay? do you ignore the situation? do you help them pick up the glass, or do they need to do it by themselves? are they genuinely made suicidal over this small moment? and most importantly, how do you - without professional training or supplies - actually help?
most people want to help you pick up the glass in your life, they just have no fucking idea how to do it. they don't want to make anything worse. they don't want to make assumptions about you. they love you, they're scared for you - and being scared makes people kind of freeze up. it's not because they don't love you. it's because they do.
now when something bad happens, my first thought is how can i make a stupid joke about this. it isn't my brain saying you're a dumb fucking bitch. i spend more time laughing. i spend more time being gentle with myself. i spend more time feeling good.
and the thing is - what's kind of funny - is that you'd be surprised by how many people agree with you. the first time i said i'm too pretty to understand that, someone else said to be fair you're the prettiest person in this room. i promise - you really don't know how kindly your friends see you. but they love you for a reason. they sort of reverse-velveteen-rabbit you. your weird and ugly spots fade away and you just become... the love they want to give you.
go love yourself ironically. the worst thing that happens is that you end up tricking your reflection into actually loving you.
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osaemu · 10 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ FINDERS KEEPERS, LOSERS WEEPERS! ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: the user "gojoslittleslut" tries to make a move on your boyfriend, but she doesn't stand a chance
contents: fem!reader. it's not too serious, nobody gets angry/jealous (except the comments lol). if u haven't already read the other streamer!gojo works u probably should so u understand the dynamic between satoru and his commenters !
author's note: reader is actually a mature person who doesn't pick fights with random ppl on the internet and i think we should all be more like her ꨄ︎
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satoru leans back in his chair, idly chatting with people who pop up in his comments after he finishes his last round of the co-op game. his viewers are eager to chat, and some even shoot money satoru's way to draw his attention. whenever someone donates money, he gives them a quick shoutout and has a small back-and-forth with them, and he does that for everyone.
that is, until a user with a questionable username donates to his stream.
gojoslittleslut has donated $100.00!
gojoslittleslut: notice me pls
"shit, a hundred dollars?" satoru says, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise. "thanks, gojoslittl— oh, fuck, what is that?"
you look up from your laptop and see the way your boyfriend's cheeks have gone bright red. satoru laughs a bit nervously, so you get up and walk over, making sure to stay out of sight of the camera. you sit on satoru's desk beside his computer and peer at his screen curiously.
gojoslittleslut: im ur number one fan~
satoru's eyes flicker to yours for a second before he looks back at his monitor. "ah, well, thanks for the donation!" he replies, completely ignoring the user's advances.
suguru-geto: he has a gf ...
gojoslittleslut: yeah
gojoslittleslut: me
you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle, scrunching up your nose at satoru to let him know that you really weren't taking it too seriously. after all, it's just some random person on the internet—they don't stand a chance with your boyfriend. 
satoru reaches over and takes your hand, twining his fingers with yours off-camera. he ignores the sudden burst of comments that litter the corner of his screen, instead watching you intently. in response, you roll your eyes playfully and blow him a kiss, snickering when satoru pretends to faint.
eventually, he turns back to his screen, cerulean eyes doing a quick once-over of his new comments.
toji-fushiguro: ill take his gf any day
inumaki: we know gtfo
gojoslittleslut: toji i get gojo and u take his girl. deal?
toji-fushiguro: bet
"alright guys, settle down," satoru huffs, rolling his eyes. "for the record, i still have a girlfriend and i don't plan on changing that anytime soon," he clarifies, addressing the current feud going on in his comments. 
satoru's a good streamer—he does his best to keep things cordial and lighthearted with his audience, but he also knows his limits. one of his limits involves people trying to separate you and him, his one true pairing (of course satoru's otp is his own relationship).
your boyfriend leans closer to the screen and scowls good-naturedly, holding up the hand still wrapped around yours. "this isn't gonna change, so don't even think about it!"
satoru says his goodbyes and then ends the stream, turning to you with a sigh. "how down bad do you have to be to name yourself 'gojo's little slut?'" he grumbles, clicking through his stream analytics and finding the user. he opens gojoslittleslut's profile and studies it for a moment before hovering his mouse over the block button.
he leans back in his chair and tilting his chin up at you. "she just gave me a hundred dollars, so i kinda feel bad about blocking her," satoru muses, tapping his foot on the floor. he looks up at where you still sit on his desk, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. "c'mere," he mumbles, slipping his hands around your waist and hoisting you into his lap with a soft grunt.
satoru rests his chin on your shoulder and nudges his face into your neck, breath tickling your skin. "you know that i'm all yours, right?"
"of course i do," you murmur, settling into his arms. he's warm and comfortable, like always. satoru smiles warmly and kisses the side of your face, letting his lips linger.
"good. 'cause no fan account's ever gonna change that."
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Dad Jace would totally let him daughter braid his hair and let her use him as her mannequin head (who else had one when they were kids?). He would be such a good girl dad
Request: Jace and reader's daughter who disturbs small council meeting by walking in and Rhaenyra is sweet to her and don't care of the disturbance. She would have been such a good grandmother
This has been sitting in my drafts for weeks (early august...), and since I have not posted in a moment, here's a little blurb until I finish other things. I don't usually write fics with children/babies in it, but now that I'm a godmother, I have material for content XD
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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Unlike her father, Rhaenyra wanted Jacaerys to be prepared for when he’ll, one day, ascend the iron throne. She gave him a seat at her small council, at her side, and taught him how to rule the Seven Kingdoms. He was not given a title other than heir, but his presence was important to her and for the future — his future.
While the council was deep in discussion about ships and importation, the heavy doors of the small council chamber creaked open. Heads turned as little Alyssa, who had just turned four, burst into the room. Ignoring the gathered noblemen, the young princess darted straight to her father at the far end of the table. 
Jacaerys immediately shifted his attention from Tyland Lanister to his daughter. He could feel that the noblemen at the table were irritated by the disruption, but he didn't care. 
‘’How do I look, Daddy?’’ Alyssa asked, spinning in her new dress, her eyes full of excitement.
''Magnificent,'' he said, smiling lovingly at the little girl who looked just like him, except for her eyes. She had your eyes. 
Alyssa beamed at the praise, her little heart swelling with joy. She then skipped over to Rhaenyra, her small hand reaching out to display the dress with pride. ‘’Look, Grandma!’’
Rhaenyra's eyes softened at her granddaughter, removing her Queen facade. ‘’That is a very beautiful dress, sweetheart. You look lovely.’’ 
Alyssa beamed and pointed proudly to the light blue dragon with silver wings embroidered on the dress. ‘’Mama made the dragon,’’ she explained.  
‘’Speaking of Mama, where is she?’’ Jacaerys asked gently, hoping to get a response. 
But Alyssa just shrugged, her small shoulders rising and falling. Without a word, she spun around and dashed out of the council chamber, her mischievous giggles echoing down the hallway. 
This time, Jacaerys was hot on her heels. He couldn’t let her wander alone — she was far too young. She could get lost or find herself in dangerous places, like the kitchens or the White Sword tower. Or worse, she could also get taken by ill intentioned people. 
His long strides quickly closed the distance between him and Alyssa. As he finally caught up with her, Jacaerys scooped the little princess up in one swift motion, causing Alyssa to squeal in surprise and delight as she wiggled in his arms.
‘’No getting away from me!’’ Jacaerys held her closely, feeling her small arms wrapping around his neck and clinging to him. ‘’Did you run away from the nursemaid again?’’ Alyssa stayed silent. ‘’You know you're not supposed to run off like that. Let’s go back to the playroom before they send a search party for you.’’
Alyssa remained quiet, but she nestled deeper into her father’s embrace. She adored you, but there was something special about the bond she shared with her father. Same for Jacaerys. She was his precious little princess, his firstborn. 
As they entered the playroom, Jacaerys saw the nursemaid pacing around worriedly. The young princess's escapade had clearly caused a bit of panic.
‘’Princess!’’ the nursemaid sighed in relief, silently thanking the Sevens that she had returned safely. 
‘’She's safe and sound,’’ Jacaerys said softly, gently rubbing Alyssa’s back. ‘’Just a little adventure, right, Alyssa?’’
The little girl finally lifted her head and nodded, her grip loosening slightly as she glanced at the nursemaid. ‘’I wanted to see Daddy.’’ 
Jacaerys kissed her cheek before setting her down. His sweet girl. 
Behind the nursemaid, Lucerys was playing with little wooden dragons, handed down to him by his uncles. Jacaerys played with these same dragons when he was young, and so did his brother Lucerys, who his son was named after. 
‘’You may leave us and take the rest of your day, Saphia. I will take care of the children.’’
The nursemaid nodded, bowing to Jacaerys before retiring herself.  Later, when you returned to your chambers after spending the afternoon with ladies from court, you were surprised to see your husband sitting on the carpet with Lucerys and Alyssa, who was in the middle of making ‘braids’ in her father’s hair. It looked more like knots than braids, by the look on Jacaerys’ face. A smile curled on your lips and you joined them on the carpet, finishing the day with your little family.
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wheneverfeasible · 2 months
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Because I’m terrible and the plots won’t leave me alone, I’ve now got an idea based on this post about a demon who feasts on pain and suffering being a medical practitioner for the chronically and terminally ill and the patients fully loving it. And then my brain rot had to say “make it Steddie” because I’ve lost all control of my life.
cw: terminal illness, minor and major character death (with a happy ending tho)
But imagine it. Eddie is a demon, a low ranking one at that originally. He gets a job at a medical facility for the chronically/terminally ill. Over time at the happy and consensual feasting he really does become one of the strongest demons because he’s constantly fed to the brim and he even has human worshippers, not that they’re traditional worshippers.
No, his followers are little old senior citizens who slip him butterscotch candies and other sweets they’re not supposed to have, which technically count as offerings. They thank him for his work, because he does actually take care of their bodies as well and even listens to their life stories, which count as praise and worship. They love and are devoted to him and they bring in their friends and family who are suffering too and Eddie’s accidental cult grows.
One day, things change. A young man, an anomaly in his youth, is brought in by parents who no longer wish to be burdened by their disabled son. Steve just shrugs it off and moves in with a smile, seemingly fine with being abandoned by his parents because he dared to be anything other than perfectly healthy.
He puts around the facility in his terry cloth robe and slippers on some days, others he dresses up in polos and slacks or even jeans when he’s feeling more casual, and always with a smile on his face. He makes those around him smile and laugh too, and his cheeks get pinched and he’s slipped candies too and he listens to others’ stories and he seems happy and content.
But Eddie feeds on his pain and suffering all the same, knows that behind that smile is a young boy who was told he probably wouldn’t live to see 30, who listens to the older folks knowing he would never get to live a life like that. Eddie knows that sometimes Steve cries himself to sleep at night.
Over time, Eddie and Steve grow closer. Steve hadn’t believed that Eddie was a demon at first, had thought it all just a joke, until one night Mr. Wozniak was laying in his bed, and Steve hadn’t meant to overhear, but he was passing by and the door was cracked open.
“Will I go to Hell now?” Mr. Wozniak was asking, but he seems peaceful all the same, like the thought wasn’t the terrifying ordeal so many people thought it was.
“No, sweetheart,” Eddie was saying, but his voice sounds a little off, huskier, like…like brimstone sat in his throat. “I’ve never claimed your soul. It’s still your own. Go find Irena. She’s been waiting for you for too long.”
Irena, Steve knew from speaking with Mr. Wozniak, was his young wife who had died decades earlier.
“Will I get to see you again?”
Eddie’s long fingers reach out, his nails long and sharp, dark in a way that was not nail polish. He lightly and gently strokes the papery skin of Mr. Wozniak’s cheek. “You will be at peace. You will find the afterlife is so much more than this Good-vs-Evil rhetoric so popular in this plane of existence. Go in peace, my child, and should you wish it, perhaps one day we might meet again.”
Mr. Wozniak smiles at that, and he closes his eyes with a softly whispered, “Irena, I’m coming…”
A moment later, he was gone.
Steve watches as Eddie seems to grow smaller, appear more normal, and though he knows he should be terrified, he isn’t. Instead he continues on his way, letting the knowledge of more percolate in his brain, though by the next morning when news of Mr. Wozniak’s passing spreads and Eddie assures everyone that he passed away peacefully and in no pain, Steve knows Eddie speaks the truth and he realizes that nothing has changed. Eddie is still Eddie.
They continue to grow closer. He spends more time with Eddie, lets Eddie in fully on how much he hurts, and tells the demon that he wished things had been different and that they could have met under better circumstances.
Eddie tells him that he never enjoyed the taste of regret. It was far too bitter.
They fall in love, encouraged by their friends in the facility new and old, who don’t seem to care that he is a mortal with a short life expectancy and Eddie is an immortal demon lord. What is all that in the face of true love?
And then it happens, and Steve is the one lying in bed, knowing his time has come. He smiles up at Eddie and decides not to regret any of it, not wanting their final moments to be flavored with bitterness.
“Stevie,” Eddie whispers mournfully, and he’s beautiful. It’s not his full true form, but his eyes are a dark blood red, his teeth elongated into sharp fangs, and his pale skin veined with reds and blacks. Horns curl out from his curly hair.
“You said once that I get to be with my loved ones after this,” Steve says, still smiling, and he reaches up to cup Eddie’s jaw with a weakened hand. Eddie nods against him, and Steve wonders if all demons can cry, or if it’s just his. “Then take my soul, darling. It already belongs to you.”
Eddie flinches back, like Steve knew he would, because souls are not little things. Eddie had explained before, after everything, that he didn’t even actually deal in souls, that that wasn’t the sort of demon he was. Steve had asked if he could, on a technicality, and Eddie had paused because saying yes, any demon could, but souls were priceless. When you gave one up to a demon, you gave up everything. You would be theirs until the end of days. Eddie had said he wasn’t that sort of demon.
“Baby, no,” Eddie breathes now, shaking his head gently enough not to dislodge Steve’s hand. “You would be—”
“Yours,” Steve interrupts. “But I already am. You already own my heart. I now willingly give you my soul. All you have to do is accept it.”
And Eddie protests, at first, because Steve is giving him complete control over him for eternity. Steve gives it freely with open arms, and in the end, Eddie can do nothing but accept it. He tells Steve that he doesn’t know if demons have souls or not, but his belongs to Steve just as assuredly as his own heart does.
Steve’s final mortal breath is gifted into Eddie’s crimson mouth, full of peace and love and the understanding that this thing between them will always beat eternal.
It turns out that, whether it was still unknown if all demons had souls, Eddie was the sort that does.
And it also turns out that, when you’re gifted a demon lord’s soul, you become a demon too.
Eddie’s cult ends soon after, disbanded into non-existence. In its place, however, rises a new one that worships not just one demon caretaker, but two as Eddie is soon joined by another with floppy brown hair and sparkling brown eyes that for once smiles without hidden pain. They take care of their charges, gently coax them into eternal rest when it’s their time, and together prove that true love is forever.
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delulujuls · 2 months
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the true one | jacaerys velaryon
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hi, here comes the pt3 of my jace series. i was having few ideas for how to end this one but i got carried away and i even started to feel bad how i decided to solve it.
we will see if i will end this up on here or write another part because man i do really feel bad for aegon:( im not gonna lie, at one moment i started to smell a love trangle forming up here lmao
summary: love lifts you up, but it can also hurt you. in case of dragon princess and young prince from dragonstone, love saved westeros from war, but it broke one heart that was already broken enough. a shattered heard from someone who since the beginning wanted love, not the crown.
warnings: mentions of sex, nothing crazy though
pairing: sister!targaryen reader x jacaerys velaryon (ft. cregan stark aka the-best-wingman-in-whole-westeros and aegon 'the broken boy' targaryen)
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King Viserys did not engage in many wars during his reign, for he was considered a wise and good ruler. However, those that were unavoidable, he almost always managed to win. There was one battle he unfortunately could not win, and that was the battle with his illness.
Death came for the good king shortly after his 52nd Name Day, leaving Westeros without a ruler. There were two candidates vying for the Iron Throne, each equally certain of their right to it.
Many believed that Rhaenyra, the king's first child, was the rightful heir to the throne. However, because she was a woman, the crown fell to Aegon, Viserys' eldest son. Ultimately, he was proclaimed the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, but not everyone agreed with this decision. One of those who did not was Rhaenyra herself.
The Princess of Dragonstone, believing there had been a misunderstanding, began to gather allies around her who were willing to support her claim to the throne. Aegon, of course, did the same. At some point, however, there was no more talk of a peaceful resolution, and gathering allies turned into gathering armies. A cold wind blew over Westeros, heralding not only the coming winter but also war.
The most distant from the sunny King's Landing to the south was the North. There lay many settlements rich in resources and armies, which were now more valuable than gold. Both Rhaenyra and Aegon had no intention of wasting time. They had to secure allies faster than their opponent.
"You will go North," Rhaenyra told her eldest son. "Lord Cregan is closer to your age than mine. I am sure you will find a common language."
Jacaerys nodded silently and embraced his mother. He understood the weight of the task entrusted to him and intended to fulfill it to the best of his ability. Similar words Alicent Hightower directed to her eldest daughter when she visited her in her chambers one evening.
"Me?" the young princess asked, sitting in front of the mirror and brushing her hair. The maid who had been doing it earlier quickly left the room as soon as the queen appeared. "You have the King's Best Sword and the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard at your disposal, and you want to send me to the North?"
"Aemond may wield a sword skillfully, and Ser Criston may be an envoy of even the Father himself," she said, gripping the back of the chair her daughter sat in. "But they are still men. They are driven by the desire to fight and pride."
When she looked at her daughter's face in the reflection, the girl merely shook her head.
"The people of the North must see the sacrifice we are willing to offer. You will not gain their support by intimidating them with a dragon but with gentleness and a good heart, burning with zeal and the desire for peace."
"The desire for peace," the girl scoffed. "You want to send me there to gather people ready to go to their deaths."
Alicent lowered her gaze. She looked at her daughter's bright hair, flowing down her back like liquid gold. She took it between her fingers and began to braid it.
"You are betrothed to the king, soon to be his wife and queen of the Seven Kingdoms," she said. "You will present yourself to them as the king's prudent right hand and future good queen. No one warms the image of a ruler better than his wife."
"Rhaenyra doesn't need to send anyone to the North to gain their support," she replied, glancing at her mother in the reflection. "You know well that no one will stand by the usurper."
"Perhaps not by the usurper, but by the future queen, they might."
The young princess knew that her mother left her no choice. Knowing that her journey was doomed to failure, she mounted her dragon the same day and set off in the direction from which the cold, winter-foretelling wind blew.
The eldest Targaryen princess and the prince of Dragonstone had not seen each other since they had celebrated Rhaenyra's 32nd Name Day together with King Viserys. Much had changed since then. News of the king's death spread across Westeros, and the Targaryen family split in two. Nothing indicated that the young princes, bound by feelings, would ever meet again. Certainly, none of them expected to meet hundreds of miles from home on frozen ground.
Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell, knew this well. Ravens informing of the visit had reached him from both King's Landing and Dragonstone. The Small Council, in which the Wolf of the North sat, tried to dissuade him from the crazy idea of bringing both warring sides to Winterfell. However, Cregan was hopeful that Jacaerys was not driven by his mother's spirit and that the young princess was not a reflection of her cruel brother. He believed he would see dragons dancing while playing on the snowy sky, not waging war. He believed that youth and good hearts would prevail.
The prince of Dragonstone arrived in Winterfell first. Vermax swooped down from the sky with a roar, causing the inhabitants to watch the winged beast in horror. Neither the dragon nor its rider had any ill intentions. The same intentions did not drive the young princess, who arrived in the capital of the North shortly afterward. Just as the relatively small Vermax instilled fear in the people, so did the sight of the massive Vermithor prompt many to clasp their hands in prayer. May the Old Gods watch over the North.
When the Bronze Fury descended from the sky, Lord Stark and Prince Velaryon were on their way back from the Wall. They learned of the guest's arrival only when a rider came to meet them, announcing the arrival of a dragon.
"A dragon?" Jacaerys furrowed his brow and looked questioningly at the host. "Another dragon has come to Winterfell?"
"Yes, my prince," Cregan replied, urging his horse forward. "Let us hurry, we must not keep the guest waiting."
The young princess was informed that Lord Stark would soon arrive and was taken from the cold and invited to the chamber set aside for her stay in Winterfell. She removed her warm cloak and sat by the fireplace, rubbing her cold hands. She had been uncertain during the journey, but now she began to feel genuinely nervous. What was her mother thinking, sending her here?
Jacaerys remained silent throughout the return journey, gripping the reins so tightly his fingers went numb. Who had come to Winterfell? Had his mother sent someone after him? If so, why? And if it wasn't Rhaenyra, someone from King's Landing must have come North. Aegon? No, that would be too prudent. Aemond? Had he come to secure allies? And why had Lord Stark accepted this so calmly? Was it an ambush?
When they arrived at Winterfell, they headed straight for the castle. Instructed which chamber the guest awaited in, they went there immediately. Jacaerys' heart pounded wildly, and he did not share Lord Stark's calm demeanor. When Cregan knocked and pushed open the heavy door to one of the chambers, Jacaerys felt his heart leap into his throat. Hearing the knock at the door, the young princess felt the same. She took a deep breath and rose from her seat, smoothing her tunic with her hands. She looked up at the entrance and saw a tall, young man. She guessed that the steely-eyed youth was Lord Stark. However, he was not alone; someone else entered right behind him. The princess could not believe her eyes. She felt as though her mind was playing tricks on her after the exhausting journey.
"Jace?" she spoke uncertain, almost questioningly.
Jacaerys was in such shock that he felt as if his legs had grown roots into the ground.
"Princess," was all he could stammer out as she quickly approached him and hugged him tightly. The young prince closed his eyes and returned the embrace strongly. Feeling her in his arms, her hair tickling his face, he realized it was not a dream. It was truly her.
Cregan smiled at the sight of the dragons lost in each other's embrace. He knew he had no reason to worry. Kindness and youth would always prevail.
Still holding the girl, Jacaerys glanced at the Wolf Lord. Cregan smiled at him and quietly left the room.
"I thought I would never see you again," the girl whispered after a moment, pulling away and cupping his face in her hands. Tears shone in her violet eyes. Jacaerys took her hands and kissed each one.
"I feared the same," he admitted, not hiding his own emotions.
The pair sat by the fireplace, talking animatedly. They held each other's hands tightly the entire time, as if afraid that one might disappear at any moment.
They talked for a long time, forgetting the world around them. They spoke of what had happened to them since their last meeting, about the events that were tearing their family apart, and about the looming war. When their conversation turned to more serious topics, a servant entered the room, announcing that Lord Stark invited them to dinner. The Dragon Princess and the Prince of Dragonstone joined the Wolf of the North. The dinner was sumptuous but did not have many guests. The dining room hosted only the three of them.
"I hope you don't hold this arranged meeting against me, your Highnesses," Cregan said, pouring them wine.
The princess shook her head while eating, taking a sip from her goblet.
"It was a bold move, my lord," Jacaerys admitted. "I guess you had no certainty about how it might end."
"Indeed," Cregan acknowledged. "But I felt that neither of you held the dark values that sometimes blind your families. Luckily for me, and even more for the people of Winterfell, I managed to avoid making another Harrenhall here."
"You can't deny your courage, my lord," the girl smiled, glancing at him. "A bit of madness too."
Cregan smiled at her words and raised his goblet in a toast.
"I hope we can reach a good understanding together."
The princely pair also raised their goblets in a toast. That evening, there was no lack of wine and ale, and the topic of the impending war, though important, was left for another day. That evening was spent on more pleasant and mundane conversations. It did not resemble an evening where three representatives of different values gathered, but rather three friends.
As the wine started to buzz in their heads and the table was cleared of food, Lord Stark declared it was time to retire. After wishing each other a good night, Jacaerys went to escort the princess to her chamber. He held her securely by the waist to prevent her from falling, as their legs wobbled like reeds in the wind. The pair giggled quietly in each other's arms, their cheeks flushed from the alcohol.
"Stay with me," she whispered when they reached her chamber. "I guess the nights are exceptionally cold here."
"How could I refuse you, princess," he smiled, and she returned his smile and pulled him inside. On unsteady legs, she walked to a small mirror and sat down, beginning to undo her hair. Jacaerys approached her and gently, with great reverence, began to help. He carefully untangled her braids, occasionally glancing at her face in the mirror. Their eyes met frequently, eliciting soft giggles. The young prince had never stopped having feelings for her, feelings that had blossomed so vividly when they spent time together on Dragonstone. The young princess couldn't recall a day when she hadn't thought of him. Her heart, which she was supposed to give to another, loved the Velaryon youth unconditionally.
"You're even more beautiful than I remembered," he whispered. He slowly ran his fingers through her hair, feeling as if he held velvet in his hands.
The girl smiled and stood up, facing him. She touched his cheek and ran her thumb along it. Jacaerys did the same, pulling her by the waist closer to him with his other hand. He noticed a necklace with a three-headed dragon, each head holding a green emerald, around her neck. The young prince's face saddened.
"Have you already married him?"
"No," she replied. "And I still don't want to."
Jacaerys looked up at her, about to say something, but she kissed him impulsively. Realizing what she had done, she wanted to pull away and apologize, but the young prince caught the back of her head and deepened the kiss. She cupped his face in her hands, returning each kiss.
"Marry me, princess," he whispered. "We'll run away to where the map doesn't reach. Away from all this."
The Dragon Princess smiled and nodded, kissing him tenderly in response. Their wine and ale-soaked lips exchanged deep kisses, and their hands clumsily removed each other's clothes. Shortly after, they found themselves in a fur-covered bed, lost in each other's embrace. They didn't think about whether what they were doing was wrong. What was wrong was marrying someone you felt only fear and hatred for. The young princess knew she could never feel for Aegon even a fraction of the feelings she had for Jacaerys.
As night turned to dawn, the pair lay entwined together. Their naked, sweat-drenched, and kiss-marked bodies lay intertwined, almost as one. The girl pressed her cheek against the prince's chest, stroking him gently, and he held her, tracing patterns on her bare back with his fingers.
"Let's get married here," she said after a while. "Here, in the Godswood."
Jacaerys smiled sleepily and hugged her tighter. "Do you think Lord Stark would agree to that?"
"I think he'd be the first to bless us."
The young prince chuckled softly at her words. The girl lifted herself and looked at his face.
"I love you, Jace," she confessed almost in a whisper. "And I'm afraid I won't be able to stop."
The boy smiled and cupped her face. His heart swelled at her words. The love he saw in her eyes was boundless.
"I love you too, princess. I would give my life for you."
The next day, even before the three of them sat down for breakfast, Lord Stark knew what had transpired in one of his castle's chambers. He had heard that the bed in Jacaerys' room remained unmade and that he had arrived at the dining hall in the company of the princess. Cregan would be lying if he said he wasn't pleased. He hadn't realized the feelings the pair of dragons had for each other. It turned out that love could indeed conquer war. Still filled with apprehension, Jacaerys decided to present the Wolf of the North with the idea of marriage.
"Who am I to dissuade you from this idea?" he replied. "I will gladly lead the princess to the wedding myself."
That same day, in the Godswood, the wedding ceremony took place. Compared to weddings held in the Faith of the Seven, it was modest. Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell, fulfilled his promise and led the dragon princess to the Weirwood tree, where her Velaryon prince awaited her. Beyond the wall of the Godswood, two large dragon heads watched, occasionally breaking the silence with squawking and growling.
The witnesses to the wedding were dragons, the Wolf of the North, the Heart Tree, and the Old Gods, who silently observed the marriage. Dry leaves rustled in the icy wind, and snowflakes settled on the rosy cheeks of the soon-to-be-married couple, who became husband and wife after a brief ceremony.
"So, it is done," Lord Stark smiled. "But what kind of wedding would it be without a feast?"
The newlyweds exchanged smiles and, holding hands, followed the Wolf of the North towards the castle. That day, the specter of war had to wait as well.
However, the next day, the issue of northern allies and whose side they would take had to be addressed. The dragon princess represented the greens, while Jacaerys the blacks.
"Have your lords side with us," the princess proposed during a Small Council meeting, gripping her husband's hand tightly under the table. "Not with Aegon or Rhaenyra. Let them withdraw from this battle for allies."
"With all due respect, princess, are you planning to fight? To be a third party in this conflict?" one of the men at the table asked.
"There will be no war," Jacaerys interjected. "And even if there were, it wouldn't be the North's war. They won't participate in what's happening in the South. This will weaken the military forces."
"We can't be neutral," another man stated. "Lack of a side is worse than betrayal. What if someone less benevolent than you comes on a dragon and razes us to the ground?"
"No one will do that," the princess assured. "I guarantee your safety."
"I do too," Jacaerys added. "The capital must understand that this conflict has no higher purpose and will only bring unimaginable misery."
"I'm afraid, Your Highnesses, that neither Princess Rhaenyra nor King Aegon will relent," one of the men replied. "Do you think your marriage would dissuade them? The King could annul it at any moment."
"The King can continue doing what he does best, drinking himself into oblivion and fucking whores," the girl snapped, involuntarily squeezing Jacaerys's hand harder. "If the news of the wedding isn't already on its way to the South, it will be soon. Tomorrow we'll head back and announce that the marriage is a peace treaty. And if that doesn't impress anyone, we'll send a message to all who have allied with both Aegon and Rhaenyra to withdraw their commitments. I swear by the Seven, no one, given the choice, will go to certain death. The fight between dragons will bring nothing else."
The princess's words brought silence among the gathered. After a moment, Lord Stark stood up and drew his sword, kneeling before the girl.
"You can count on me, princess. The Stark family will side with the young couple."
The dragon princess smiled and nodded to him. Grateful, Jacaerys did the same. Soon after, each of the men at the Council meeting followed the Wolf's lead. The girl's passionate and convincing words withdrew not only the Stark family but also the Umbers, Karstarks, Mormonts, Boltons, Ryswells, Reeds, Hornwoods, and Cerwyns from the conflict. And it was just the beginning.
That same day, ravens were sent to all who had castles from the Wall to Moat Cailin, from the Stormy Shore to Widow's Watch. Each message was signed by the young couple and the Wolf of the North himself.
"I wish you much perseverance, Your Highnesses," Cregan said before they mounted their dragons. "But I believe you will manage to dissuade us from war."
It might not have been appropriate, but the girl hugged him tightly in farewell. Cregan had done unimaginable things for them in just a few days. The Wolf of the North smiled and hugged her back.
"I've never met someone with a heart like yours, princess," he admitted. "You have my word that the North will always protect it."
Jacaerys extended his hand to him, but Cregan hugged and patted him on the back. The Prince of Dragonstone smiled and returned the embrace.
Two dragons left Winterfell, but the icy wind carried them for a long time. That same wind brought news of the wedding to the South shortly after, before they had traveled even a quarter of the way.
"May the Seven protect us," Alicent sank into her chair when the maester came to her with the news. She strictly forbade anyone to speak of it, especially to Aegon. She quickly sent for the Hand.
Otto laughed when he heard the news. His daughter, however, found no humor in it.
"Brilliant," he remarked, filling his goblet and taking a sip of wine.
"Brilliant?" Alicent thought everyone had lost their minds. "She broke off the engagement. Aegon could burn Dragonstone to the ground when they return."
"If I were Aegon, I'd pack the crown in the finest cloth, seal it with the best wax, and send it to Dragonstone immedatiely."
Alicent shook her head and buried her face in her hands. Otto did not share his daughter's pessimism.
"Or better yet, he should place it on dear sister's head himself when she returns from Winterfell," he corrected. "The girl circumvented a code we didn't even know existed."
"She caused a catastrophe!" Alicent exclaimed, looking at her father in disbelief. "She was Aegon's betrothed and the future queen. She was only supposed to go North to gain allies!"
"And she decided to end the war," he replied. "We definitely placed the wrong child on the throne."
Alicent shook her head in disbelief. She didn't know if her father was joking or if he genuinely saw no problem with the situation.
"So what should we do?" she asked, looking at him.
"First, we should wait for them to return and announce this joyous news," he said.
When the dragons reached the South, they decided to separate. Jacaerys returned to Dragonstone, wanting to personally deliver the news to his mother not only about the marriage but also about the withdrawal of the northern armies from the war. The princess returned to King’s Landing and immediately made her way to Aegon’s chambers.
She didn’t know if the news had reached her brother, but she decided to handle the matter herself and as a priority. A small dagger hung at her belt, and she had no guards with her except for the two standing in front of Aegon’s chamber doors. The men greeted her and bowed slightly, but she dismissed them as soon as she stood in front of her brother's chambers. She took a deep breath to muster some courage as she raised her fist and knocked on the door.
When a voice from inside instructed her to enter, the young princess pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside. Aegon stood before a large mirror, dressed in armor. Three men were fussing around him, making adjustments, adding and removing parts of the armor. Three guards stood beside Aegon, talking animatedly with him. However, when they noticed the princess, they bowed, and the two tailors did the same. Aegon saw in the mirror’s reflection a figure he hadn’t seen for several moons. He smiled and turned, taking a sip of wine from the goblet he held.
"My brave, sweet sister," he said, stepping down from a small stool. He was drunk, as always. "Did you secure the North for me, my dear?"
"I need to talk to you," she approached, glancing at him. "In private."
"You heard the future queen, out!" Aegon commanded, waving his hand. Shortly afterward, the room was empty except for the siblings. The young king finished his wine and set the empty goblet aside, stepping closer to the girl. When he was within arm’s reach, he raised his hand to touch her cheek, but she pulled her head back.
"I hoped that your visit to the North would cool your temper a bit," he admitted, lowering his hand. "But i see that even the harshest cold can’t chill a dragon."
"I married Jacaerys," the girl said quickly, almost as quickly as if she had shot an arrow from a crossbow. Her voice didn’t tremble. She raised her eyes to her brother’s face. "I won’t be your wife, Aegon."
The boy snorted, but seeing her serious expression, he couldn’t help but laugh.
"What did you do?" he chuckled. "Repeat it, because I must have misheard."
"We got married in Winterfell, and Lord Stark decided to withdraw from the war. His vassal lords too, and the whole North was given the same choice."
Seeing that his sister wasn’t joking, Aegon wiped the smile from his face. His eyes, though glossy with alcohol, looked at her in shock. His eyelid twitched.
The young princess clenched her jaw. However, she didn’t take a step back. Her muscles tensed involuntarily, readying for a fight or flight. Aegon, however, didn’t say a word. He was the first to retreat. He reached for the goblet and poured himself some wine, drinking it greedily. The girl expected anything. She was ready for his screams, insults, and threats. She was even ready for him to raise his hand against her. But Aegon did none of that. He sat on the stool he had stood on moments ago and gripped the goblet in his hands.
"Why did you do it?"
The princess didn’t expect to hear that question. Now it was she who felt as if she had misheard.
"To weaken and humiliate me?" he asked, raising his eyes to look at her. "Or to hurt me?"
"I love him," she admitted sincerely. She wasn’t lying. It had never even crossed her mind to strike at her brother in such a way. "And he loves me. He is kind to me."
Aegon lowered his gaze, staring at the goblet in his hands. Despite the armor he wore, despite the title of king he held, he felt like a rat. His reaction surprised the girl. To such an extent that she didn’t know what to say.
"Would I be incapable of loving you?" he asked after a moment, looking at her again. The girl couldn’t meet his eyes.
"You only fill me with fear," she admitted quietly.
Aegon’s eyes roamed her face. He recalled a time when he had gone too far and threatened her with a knife, the times he bullied and intimidated her. He lowered his gaze. You fill her with fear, monster, he thought. You are a monster, Aegon.
In silence, the girl raised her eyes to her brother’s face. Deciding that the conversation had no chance of continuing, she turned to leave his chambers.
"I'm sorry," his voice called out behind her. The young princess turned and looked at her brother. Aegon’s cheeks were wet with tears. "I apologize for everything I did to you."
"I was never your enemy," she replied. She couldn’t muster anything more to say.
She quickly left her brother, heading to her chambers. She wasn’t ready for a confrontation with her mother. She needed to recover from what she had just experienced.
Nevertheless, Westeros managed to dispel the looming specter of war. The wind from the North brought only winter, not bloodshed. Every few days, ravens arrived at Winterfell with news that another castle had joined the young dragons’ marriage and withdrawn from the war. Families from the east, west, and south did the same, sending their assurances directly to Dragonstone. Rhaenyra and Aegon had to abandon the conflict. Viserys’s eldest daughter even planned to go to King’s Landing to reconcile with her brother and acknowledge him as king. The same day she planned to set out, a messenger brought her a small chest.
"What is this?" she asked, glancing at the young man. She accepted the gift uncertainly.
"From King’s Landing, Your Grace."
Jacaerys stopped his mother’s hand as she reached for the latch on the chest. "It could be a trap."
"Would Aegon want to kill me in such a way?" she looked at him with amusement. The young prince hesitantly withdrew his hand.
Rhaenyra opened the box and had to blink several times. She reached into the chest and pulled out a crown. The same one her father had worn on his head.
In shock, she looked at her son and niece, who were as astonished as she was.
"Aegon returned your crown," the girl said quietly.
"It doesn’t have to be Aegon," Jacaerys shook his head. He didn’t believe in any good intentions from his uncle.
The girl took the crown from Rhaenyra and examined it in her hands. In several places, she noticed fingerprints stained with wine. She had no doubts.
"It was Aegon."
527 notes · View notes
solbaby7 · 9 months
Text
Sweet Thing
pairing: rhysand x reader
[ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]
part 4 of the shy!reader massage mini series
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warnings: swearing, sexual implications, possible violence, jealousy, gambling, male egos, petnames (bc being called bunny is so cute and soft, fight me on it)
summary: Your High Lord hosts a party with a dozen hothead Illyrian soldiers where you become the main attraction
“Stay close,” Rhysand murmurs in your ear, a warm hand pressed at the low of your back to guide you into the large room. It’d been recently renovated; not yet decorated and you'd assumed it was turned into a makeshift meeting area, a giant table pushed in the middle with a dozen chairs wrapped around it. It was also the furthest room from your own—a little detail that Rhys quickly bristled over when you'd mentioned it earlier. “Wanted to keep my good luck charm close by tonight.”
Your cheeks warm under the words, annoyingly aware of how sensitive your body had become in response to the High Lord since that night. It haunted your every breath; his barely contained need, the throbbing cock just a few measly layers away from being everything you’d ever dreamed of and Rhysand fed off of it like ravenous wolves who'd been starved three winters over. The teasing was merciless; heated touches and sinful words of remembrance haughtily whispered in your ear when you were supposed to be concentrating.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about.” You shy out of his touch, the hunger in his voice unmistakable and creating distance is easy when the others begin to filter in. A dozen or so pristinely dressed males of all sizes briefly greet Rhysand, hands clapping at each others backs and the testosterone that filtered in was thick enough to suffocate. They were friends; guys he’d fought and bled with, people he’d known for hundreds of years all gathered for card games and expensive glasses of liquor.
You were only there to help, to look pretty and shuffle the cards and stay close to Rhys—easy enough. “I’m thinking I should’ve dressed better.”
His fingers trace over the pleated pattern of your skirt, the soft purple fabric teasing at the middle of your thigh and all he can smell is some fruit on your skin—pomegranate? pear? “You look perfect, don’t worry about all them. You’ll be collecting their money for me by the end of the night.” Rhys is touchy; shamelessly so in front of others and you notice a few of the guests beginning to take you in, their stares raking up your form, sizing you up and you can feel Azriel shift closer from beside you.
"You always did have the prettiest little things hanging off your shoulder, Rhysand." Your head slowly turns to face the drawling voice, male entitlement and an incredulous amount of confidence seeping from every pore. Handsome and wealthy, but the allure dies the moment his mouth opens. The tailored suit alone was worth three months of the average faes rent and then some. "You have to tell me where you found this one."
Rhys laughs but you can tell there's no real humor behind it, his hand raising to wrap around your waist and pull you in closer; enough for your thighs to skim on the arm rest of his chair. The body language is possessive no matter how casual it’s intended to be and you catch Cass and Az sharing a look—mentally agreeing to pounce when they deemed fit.
Like salivating lions dressed in sheep's clothing.
"Couldn’t tell you, Maverick, she just stumbled in my lap."
He's trying to hold back for the benefit of the greater good—that was the whole point of inviting them over in the first place. Even after Mor had insisted that it was the dumbest idea ever inviting a dozen ill-tempered Illyrian soldiers and filling them up with booze. "I'd love to see her stumble in mine."
Your reaction is instinctual after feeling the High Lord's shoulders tense under your fingers and in seconds your hands are gently kneading at the muscle there, a palm running soothing lines up the length of his back and manicured nails scratch wonderfully at the nape of his neck until a bit of that darkness subsided. With a hum, you gently push his hand from your waist, backing away with a pitch only audible to him, "Gonna grab you guys some drinks."
"I'll help." You don't even try denying the spymaster, more than familiar with his customs and how unbearably uncomfortable he got once you started taking care of large groups of people. Az was always the first to say thank you when you served dinner and always made sure to wait until you sat down and took the first bite before even touching his fork.
He's quiet behind you, busying his hands with polishing the glasses you'd lined up and his shadows follow you around like a clingy pet but you understand why he's there—a silent promise that he'd have your back the entire night. That you’d never be left alone.
Azriel watches you pour a six-hundred year old bottle of amber liquor one knuckle deep for every cup besides one—that one got double and a single ice cube. Just how the High Lord liked it. "It's going to be fine," You tell him softly, storing away the rest of the bottle and you don't fight the smile that pulls when he stops you from carrying anymore than three glasses—brunting the rest of the work on the shadows. "Just a few hours and it'll all be over."
Azriel only hums but there's an underlying gratefulness for not having to speak or explain and his protectiveness towards you grows at how easily you understand him—adapting to his moods with ease.
He returns to his seat, shadows wisping their thanks over the length of your calf and a sweet smile is sent Cassian's way when he presses a grateful kiss to your hand. You turn to go back to Rhys, one final drink in your hand and you can feel Maverick's eyes trailing you, undressing you, touching and lusting from afar but he might as well have been shouting it across the room from the top of his lungs. "Come sit, bunny. And shuffle the deck, will you? They think I cheat."
"We know you do." Another male chuckles over the rim of his glass, blue eyes sharp and tawny curls tickle at the sides of his ears—Cade, you learn after a few minutes of listening in silence. You sift through the deck, righting the cards and splitting them in two before shuffling once, twice, a third time before you set it before you to be split by another. “Look at the hands on this one,” Cade poorly whispers to Maverick, shoulders bumping playfully and you felt like you were being hunted, ganged up on—eaten alive by males who didn’t follow the same code as the ones you hung around. “I bet they get the job done quite nicely.”
Rhysand has no time to respond because Cass is already doing it; gold battles with blue, large hands broadcasted before him and the General looks down at them to peer like a high maintenance woman after her nail appointment. “You should look at mine,” Crimson red Siphons glow with life on his arms; all seven of them, most hidden by the dark long sleeved shirt he wore but the message got across rather quickly. “I’m sure they’ll do it much better.”
You shift in Rhys’ lap, settling into the hands splayed around your waist, the other trails ticklish lines up the length of a bare arm and you’re grateful for how quickly the conversation shifts. “What do I do now?”
The low cadence of his voice rumbles against your back, hair gently pushed off one shoulder to make room for the chin that settles there. His instructions are thorough and intended to be purely informational but the smell of his cologne, the large hands sliding down lower to rub at the sides of your thighs and you’re unbearably aware of the plush of your ass nestled right atop of him. Cards are dealed, the rest left in a pile and you slowly draw three, facing them upright and most of the rest is a bit of a blur.
Every now and then Rhys will lean closer to mumble about what was going on but mostly it was just a room full of drunk males and their money. They cursed like sailors and laughed like hyenas, a chorus of voices overlapping the other until the liquor took its course and the true personalities settled in.
At some point you stand, hands grazing the back of Rhys’ neck when you mutter something about grabbing a snack. You’re not far, maybe a few feet away, body just barely obscured by the wall that separates them and the kitchen while you pile a plate full of finger food to snack on; fruit, mini sandwiches, warm meats wrapped in flaky dough and you’re pulled away from your focus when a voice clears. “There you are,” Maverick doesn’t look shitfaced but the liquor was definitely taking its toll, his steps a little unsteady and he slurred the s’s in his words. “How about you come rub my shoulders for me, sweet thing?”
Your brows furrow, mouth opening to give a response when the males hand raises to trace the line of your collarbone, you freeze. Four fingers graze over your shoulder and slowly moves down the length of your arm. “I don’t think—“
“I’m not asking you to think, sweet thing.” Your stomach churns, discomfort evident in the way you crane away from his touch but Maverick doesn’t care—as if unreciprocated want wasn’t an issue for him. “I’m telling you to come over here and offer up some of that treatment you’ve been feeding those three,” His eyes feel like hands in the way they roam your body, catching on bare skin and practically salivating to see the rest. “Swear I’ll return the favor.”
Your heart hammers in your chest and anxiety swells—you really should’ve just stayed put, the food in your hand threatening to spill to the floor with the intensity of your shaking but Maverick feels so close and you can smell his cologne; the whiskey. “I should get back to Rhys.” It’s no more than a whisper but when you try to slink past him, a hand clamps tightly around your arm, roughly tugging you back.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
A whimper escapes and just like that the kitchen explodes with darkness; relief overtakes your form as familiar hands tug you close and the arms that tuck you in close feel right—safe. Safe enough to not notice the warm spray of wetness that splatters against the back of your legs until you hear the steady drip,drip, dripping on the floor. Your head turns but before you can look Rhysand is tucking you in tighter, full lips pressing kisses to the top of your head. “Don’t look—let’s just get you cleaned up.”
“What about the others?”
“Cassian and Azriel will handle them,” The High Lords voice isn’t nearly as calm as you remember and it’s only when you’re halfway down the hallway does he loosen his grip a bit, turning you to face him to begin his assessment. “Did he hurt you? Did he fucking touch you?”
You can’t form words, realization beginning to form when you see blood splattering your clothes but you manage to shake your head. “He just grabbed me—Rhys did you—“
“I shouldn’t have let you go alone.”
“It was just a second.”
“A second longer and he could’ve—“ He stops himself from saying more; too afraid to make the words reality or too pissed to have to verbalize them but Rhys lets out a deep breath when he can find no damage besides a hint of a bruise. “I should’ve taken my time.”
You don’t need to ask to know what he means.
Instead, you place a palm on his cheek in hopes to ground him, to remind the High Lord that you were safe. Violet eyes soften, silver flecks catching in the light and it takes everything in you not to buckle beneath him when he looks at you like that—like it was nothing to kill for you. “Let’s go, I’d say it’s about time you return the favor and give me a massage.”
Mischief glints in those eyes, a smirk curling at the corner of full lips. “I can’t promise I’ll remain professional.”
“That’s sort of what I’m counting on.”
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reidmania · 3 months
Text
ILL ALWAYS COME GET YOU | SPENCER REID
description ;
Drinking your feelings after a bad day isn’t always a great idea, good thing your boyfriend, Spencer will always come get you.
Warnings ;
Fluff, slight angst but nothing crazy I dont think there is any gender mentioned, but let me know if there is, Mentions alcohol consumption, bad day at work, crying, basically spencer just comforting the fuck out of drunk reader. I think thats it.
a/n ;
i need spencer reid to comfort me when im drunk. NOT MY GIF!!
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There was heavy blows of cold air that passed through the streets, the ones which were only being lit by the half broken street lights on every corner.
You could hear the faint sound of the music playing inside the bar that you had just stumbled out of, mixed with the cars driving past on the street. After maybe 5 drinks too many, everything was a little bit blurry, everything sort of sounded the same all at once.
Shaky hands reached for the phone that was buried somewhere in your big jacket pockets. The jacket was big and warm — not enough to shield you from the cold air.
Was it a smart decision to go to the bar and drink your body weight in alcohol — no, but emotional and stressed, you weren’t completely thinking straight when leaving work at merely 5pm, it had been hours, nearing 11.
It was meant to just be a couple of drinks to take the pressure off, then when the bartender asked you if you were okay, and the tear-flood started, every drink after that was a no brainer, soon enough you had enough to no longer worry about the damage the amount of alcohol you were consuming would do to your bank account.
Your hands fumbled with your phone, grateful for face ID since you doubted you would be coordinated enough to type your password without messing it up countless times and ending up locking yourself out of it.
It was a slight struggle trying to press on your contacts, when a few — probably just as drunk people, walked out of the bar behind you, reminding you that you were still stood in the doorway. After you shuffled over slightly, now out of the way. Your eyes stared at Spencer’s contact through blurry vision, considering whether or not it was worth calling — He was still working when you last spoke, maybe he was still at the office, busy, or better yet in bed asleep.
After a small sigh left your lips, the warm air from your mouth contradicting the cold air on the streets, a stem of steam followed your breath, which you found fascinating in your drunken state for a moment, before your attention was pulled back to your phone by the ringing sound.
Seeing Spencer’s contact light up your phone brought a small smile to your sad face, you were quick to answer, yet it took a minute to realise you had to put your phone to your ear.
“Hello?” You heard Spencers voice, softening a piece of your chest slightly. You assumed maybe he had been saying hello for the few seconds it had taken for you to pull your phone to your ear.
“Hi” You muttered back, drunk feet shuffling slightly as your words slurred. There were a few people still wandering around, going in and out of the bar, talking to each other or giving you strange looks which would’ve made you a little more insecure if the alcohol didn’t influence that part of your mind.
“Hey angel.” Spencer said, letting out a soft sigh of relief hearing your voice. “Where are you? You aren’t home” He said, voice itching with slight concern.
Your lips parted as you realised he had come home and you weren’t there — which would’ve been confusing because he knew you finished work hours ago, maybe you should have told him beforehand that you were planning on drinking your feelings in tequila shots.
“Im drunk” You said, not quite processing the question you had been asked.
You could hear Spencer chuckle on the other side of the phone, “I can tell baby, Where are you?” He asked, his voice was so soft and gentle, it almost made you emotional.
“Um” You hummed, spinning on your heels which only caused you to stumble slightly over your phone feet as you looked at the bar, which had its name written across the top, only that was a bit harder to read within your blurry vision.
“I dont know.” You pouted slightly, “That one bar” You muttered, hoping maybe he would know the exact one you were talking about. You assumed he would — it was the closest bar to your shared home, and the one you two went most often.
“Yeah?” He muttered, you nodded. Yet he couldn’t see that. There was a sound of slight shuffling on the other side of the phone, before you heard a door open and shut.
“I don’t think I can drive” You frowned as you looked around to try and find where your car was parked, you had come straight after work.
Spencer chuckled again. The sound was so comforting to you in your drunken state. Maybe it was silly how it made your downturned lips shift upwards into almost a smile.
“Im gonna pick you up, Angel. Just stay where you are for me okay?” He said. You heard another door open and close, which you assumed was his own car door. You hummed softly in agreement.
For the course of the next few minutes there was no conversation had between the two of you, you sat silently watching the cars on the street, while Spencer drove the few minutes down the road to the bar.
Soon the call ended, leaving you to frown as you stared at the phone, seeing it go back to where it was before you answered the call — on his contact. Before you even got the chance to call him back and cry about how rude it was for him to hang up on you like that, you heard your name being called.
Your head turned to the sound of his voice. He was standing there — still in his work clothes, making your frown only deepen, he hadn’t even had the chance to relax or change before he had to come pick you up.
“Hey baby” He cooed, taking your face in his hands as stood in front of you, taking in your puffy eyes and flushed cheeks. His thumb rubbed soothingly over the soft skin on your face.
You subconsciously leaned into the touch of his warm hands as you looked up at him, “You’re here” You said, sighing softly as you relished the warmth his body radiated.
He nodded, “Of course Im here. You wanna get home? You’re freezing.” He said, shaking his head softly, moving his hands from your face to your hands — which were seemingly colder.
You nodded wordlessly, he took that and wrapped his arm gently around your waist, leading you to his car. You tried not to stumble but it wasn’t working, without Spencer there holding your body tightly against his own you probably would’ve already fallen flat on your face. If he noticed your stumbling — he didn’t say anything.
He helped you into the passenger seat, before leaning over you slightly to pull your seatbelt on, despite your best efforts to do it yourself.
“But my car—” You muttered, sitting up a bit straighter as the realisation dawned on you that your car would be left here, your head turned slightly as the passenger seat door closed, Spencer didn’t say anything, before walking over to the drivers seat.
He got in. He must of noticed your distressed eyes staring at him when he looked over at you, pulling his own seatbelt on. “Your car is fine honey, we can come get it in the morning.”
You chewed at your lip as you looked down, nodding wordlessly at his solution. He drove without saying anything, but his hand sat warmly ontop of your thigh, thumb rubbing up and down gently as your head laid back against the head rest.
When you arrived outside your shared home, Spencer was quick by your side helping you out of the car and into the house, where he sat you down on the couch. The house was warm, which lead you to believe he had turned the heater on when he got home — or before he left to pick you up.
He returned to the living room with a large glass of water. “Drink” He hummed, handing you the glass. His hand stayed holding it till he was sure you had it tight in your grasp.
You nodded, taking a few small sips of it, before lowering it slightly. He shook his head dismissively, “All of it, Honey.” He said, two of his fingers brushing under the glass, encouraging it back up towards your lips.
You sighed, before obeying. Taking a few larger sips of water before the glass grew empty. Spencer hummed approvingly, taking the glass from your hands; standing up.
“Where are you going?” You pouted, looking up at him with a small hitch in your eyebrows. You could feel the heat blowing down from the ceilings, onto your bare legs.
Spencer paused in his movements, giving you a soft smile as he noticed your concern — as if you believed maybe he was leaving. “Getting you more water” He said.
“Spence.” Your tone was warning, dismissive of the idea of having to drink another large glass of water. He just continued walking to the kitchen. You heard the tap turn on and off before he returned, placing the glass on the coffee table in front of you rather than in your hands.
“You don’t have to drink this one all in one, you can just sip it” He said, before taking a seat next to you again, watching your head nod up and down softly.
You chewed at your lip, avoiding his gaze as even in your drunken state, your mind couldn’t seem to stop working over time — which was what got you in this position in the first place.
“Are you okay?” Spencer asked softly, his body turning more towards your own. You looked up at him for a moment. It was a dangerous question he was asking, especially in your current state.
“I don’t know” You shrugged. It was the best you could muster up without spilling every little doubt in your mind. You didn’t know. You guessed that drinking your emotions automatically meant you weren’t okay, but it wasn’t like you were dying, or anything you wouldn’t get over.
Spencer sighed, a frown tugging at his lips as he watched you in your own world, living in your head. He knew you did this — overthought everything, worked yourself up.
“Why did you drink?” He asked, realising this may get more of an answer out of you to what was actually the matter — what the cause of your drunken state was.
You leant into his shoulder slightly, head resting on his chest, under his chin. His arm wasted no time wrapping around you shoulder, only pulling you in closer.
Your voice was quiet, words still slight slurred as you spoke — but they had been the whole time. “Work sucked” Your voice was barley audible — Your boyfriend would’ve missed it if he hadn’t been paying you his full attention.
That was a rare occasion anyways.
“Why didn’t you call me baby?” He asked, hand rubbing soothingly over your clothed arm. You were quiet for a moment as you felt the tears reoccur in the back of your eyes. It seemed they had been there all day.
You shrugged, only making his frown deepen. He realised quickly — talking about it was not what you needed right now, what you did need in this moment — he was unsure of.
So he asked; “What do you need honey?”
You felt a hot tear against your cheek at the question. You were quick to wipe it away, a shaky breath leaving your lips.
“Can you just hold me?” You asked, he could hear the sadness in your voice, the need and desperation for some sort of comfort.
He places a gentle kiss to the top of your head, humming in response. “Course I can. Do you want to go change? Get into bed?” He asked softly, pulling you slightly away from his chest to look at your face, his own falling slightly as he noticed the big wet tears on your cheeks.
You nodded as a soft sob rippled from your throat, making his frown deepen. His thumb was instantly wiping your eyes softly. “Oh sweetheart” He cooed at your sad eyes. “Come on, lets go to bed”
Before you could even move to stand, his arms were around your waist, lifting you up gently. His hands holding you close to his chest as he walked to your shared bed room.
The entire way he was muttering sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you that everything was okay, that he loved you.
He placed you gently on the bed as he walked towards the wardrobe, He changed himself quickly into his pyjamas, any other time you would’ve cooed and adored the way he looked.
“Your clothes or mine?” He asked. It wasn’t an uncommon question, sometimes after showing together he would ask you if you wanted to wear his clothes or your own. It was a cute nothing.
“Yours.” You muttered, hand pulling to brush strands of hair out of your face as you watched him nod, grabbing out a pair of your own sweatpants, his t-shirt, and your favourite hoodie of his.
It was funny at first when you discovered he actually owned hoodies.
He was by your side moments later, gently pulling the big coat off your shoulders, before undressing you from the business attire you had been wearing all day, helping you into the clothes he had brought out for you.
Only minutes later your head was resting against his chest — the tears had officially stopped, his arms wrapped around you as your legs intertwined with his.
“Take the day off tomorrow” He whispered softly into your hair. You could feel the alcohol slowly processing away, not enough to be sober but enough to be a little more there.
You would’ve argued any other time, but you just nodded against his chest, before leaning away slightly, reaching over to grab your phone from where Spencer had plugged it in on your beside table.
He chuckled, grabbing your arm, “Tomorrow baby, not now.” He said softly.
You again didn’t argue, returning to your position before, hand scrunching into the fabric of Spencer’s pyjama top gently. “Thank you for coming to get me” You muttered tiredly as your eyes closed, breathing in his scent that only soothed every muscle in your body.
“I’ll always come get you.”
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lafemmemacabre · 23 days
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When I first started to see the very blatant signs that I might not be "fully straight" I thought my life was over.
Truly, I should've known I wasn't even into guys at all, but with all the indoctrination both religious and secular I was under, it's no wonder I just assumed I liked boys "too", but if realizing that I liked girls was scary and life-ending on itself, just the thought that I maybe ONLY liked girls and not guys at all was the most terrifying, suicide-worthy possibility to me.
I fainted for the first time the morning my mom told me she'd read the stuff I wrote venting about the looming terror of my own possible "bisexuality" and she was very clearly not happy about it or with me. Like, full on just everything went to black, my body went cold, pins and needles, paralyzed, and I lost consciousness for a few seconds.
I wish my almost 33 years old self could travel back in time and tell my 15 years old self that yes, not only are you not straight, you don't even like boys, and that while you're suffering a lot for it right now and want to kill yourself over it, your life will be amazing with time, and the lesbianism you're currently cursing and considering killing yourself over, is pretty much 95% of the reason you have anything good going on in your life now.
I wish I could tell my 15 years old self that through lesbianism they'd meet the love of their life, and that this beautiful butch lesbian, the real life incarnation of all the things society and their parents taught them to despise while subconsciously desiring it, would change their life around in ways they never imagined would be possible.
I don't know if my 15 years old self would've believed my time-traveling current-self about the incredible joy and fulfilling happiness lesbianism has given me. Knowing me, I might have trusted my older self's words but not felt the hope in my heart at the same time. I just still wish I could tell them.
It's heartwarming that now, for a lot of people, realizing that they're a lesbian is a moment of shocking joy and liberation, or even coveted mundane normalcy. It's great that what used to be a near death sentence for lots of us back in the mid 00s and earlier, for people younger than us, it's more and more common for it to be a positive discovery or just a neutral fact of life. But it's not always the case, even today, even in liberal urban centers.
To all the people coming to terms with their lesbianism less like receiving great or mundane news, and more like being told a loved one is terminally ill, please know lesbianism can end up being the greatest reason for your future joys.
I suffered so much back then. I legitimately, non-hyperbolically, thought my life was downright over. That I'd never be able to have a normal life, that my parents would forever despise me for who I was unless I lived the whole rest of my life in hiding, that everyone around me would look at me with utter repulsion at knowing who and what I was, and I myself was disgusted and ashamed of what I was starting to realize I might be. I wanted to die if I couldn't just be normal about one (1) thing for once; if I couldn't have a husband, if I couldn't find a way to feel emotionally and sexually fulfilled by a man like I was taught I should be, unless I was monstrously broken in some detestable way.
But I'm glad now. I'm glad to be who I am now, I'm glad that I couldn't find that emotional fulfilling ever with a man because if I could maybe I wouldn't have met and married my wife, and regardless of gender, I can't imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone other than them.
And maybe, some day, you'll be glad to be who you are too, like I am now.
Thank you, lesbianism. Sincerely and seriously, thank you so fucking much.
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divinesolas · 7 months
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Forgettable date
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r.q: Can I request a sweet smut modern aemond x fem reader where they were both so busy that they forgot about valentines day so aemond surprises reader with a romantic dinner and they end up just skipping dinner for some steamy bedroom time and in the middle of it, aemond whispers to reader "you're mine" and that was his way of proposing to reader, thank youu
w.c: 1.1k
c.w: office worker!reader, fluff, sweet aemond, aemonds job is left ambiguous, smut, oral (f!receiving), p in v, not proofread.
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You were so swamped with work you had no concept of time, you were sure it was february as you had to pay your rent on the first of every month but if someone asked you what day it was you would have no clue. Same goes for your boyfriend of three years aemond, despite the fact the two of you dont work in the same field your schedules just so happen to both be so packed all the time.
as the rest of your coworkers began to pack up their stuff for the day you sat at your desk still fiverously typing away at your computer, you had a presentation in a couple days and report due tomorrow afternoon so you had decided to stay overtime.
some of your coworkers had come over to talk to you as they were wrapping up for today.
“you got any plans after work?”
“no.”
one of them gasps, “what do you mean? he didnt plan anything?”
you furrow your brows but dont turn to look at them, “what do you mean? he?”
“your boyfriend? or did you guys break up or something?” you turn to her at the mention of him and tilt your head, “why would he have planned something?”
one of them laughs while the one your looking at shakes her head and sighs, “do you really not know? its valentines day.”
“no…” you turn towards your computer, looking at the date and gasping, “oh my god. i had no idea.”
“did you guys not talk this morning?”
“we did but neither of us mentioned anything.”
“maybe hes planning on surprising you later.”
you groan and run your hands along your face. what if he was and you had nothing prepared? shit you didnt even have a gift for him.
your coworkers laugh and wish you good luck before they leave.
you have an internal debate before deciding to pull out your phone to text him.
‘aemond oh my god happy valentines day it completely slipped my mind im so sorry.’
you anxiously bite your nails as you wait for him to respond. youre tempted to lock your phone shut as you notice the three bubbles pop up.
‘oh is it valentines day? i had no idea. im so sorry baby ive been swamped with work happy valentines day my love. im about to get off for the day, ill see you once you get home. love you ❤️’
you let out a sigh of relief at him admitting that he had no clue either. most people would assume that he was just saying that to make you feel better but you knew aemond wasnt like that and he wouldn't hold it against you.
‘i cant wait to see you my love. im going to be staying for a bit longer to wrap up.’
You notice he reads the next then decide that you’ll pick up some baked goods on the way home as a gift and hope that you dont stay too long as you turn off your phone and get back to work.
an hour and a half later with a box of a variety of backed goods in hand turning the key to your shared apartment with aemond. youre immediately hit with the smell of your favor meal and a smile graces your face. he knows you love it when he cooks.
“im in the dining room my love.”
you walk in and you gasp at the sight of the set up table set with flowers and candles with your favorite meal plated out.
you feel hands wrap around your waist from behind you and a kiss placed on your cheek.
“aemond..”
“happy valentines day my love.”
he lets go and take the bag out of you hands, “you picked this up?”
“on my way home. grabbed your favorite.”
he hums and walks back over to you after he places the bag on the table.
he grabs your cheeks and gives you, “how was work?” he mumbles as he continues to kiss you, “it was good, report done,” you pause for a moment as he begins to kiss down your jaw and sigh, “presentation almost done.”
he begins to trail kisses down your neck, stopping to suck on it.
“you?”
he hums, “fine.”
hes not much of a talker, especially not when hes busy leaving hickeys over your next.
“aemond the food.”
“fuck the food. i have a meal right in front of me.”
you squeal as he lifts you up bridal style and carries you upstairs to you bedroom. “youre so ridiculous aemond.”
you yelp when he tosses you on the bed and makes his way on top of you, kissing you deeply.
he pulls away from you grabs his shirt from the back of his neck and rips it off before he goes back to kissing you.
you moan against his lips and he pulls away from you hand moving down to your waist to take off your pants, your underwear sliding along with them.
“aemond.” you whine as he begins to kiss down your stomach.
“let me take care of you tonight.”
he licks a strip up your slit and uses his hands to grip your waist and presses you down as he continues to lick at you. your heads reach down and grip at his hair pressing him closer. you can feel him laugh against you which leads you to moan out loud, “aemond.”
“let me take care of you.” he repeats and wraps his lips around your clit sucking on it leading you to throw your head back onto your pillow.
he doesn't let up even when he can tell youre close and youre begging him to slow down he keeps up his pace until hes finished licking up every drop of your cum after you had finished and kisses his way back up and smiles at you.
“happy?”
“ill be happy after you fuck me.”
“you're never sated my love.”
in a rush you both take off the rest of your clothes and he reaches over to grab a condom out your bedside table before you reach out and grab his wrist.
he looks over at you with a confused look, “if you dont want continue.”
“thats not it i just,, maybe we dont need it tonight.”
hes face turns smug as he grabs the hand you had wrapped around his wrist to kiss it.
“i love you.”
“i love you to-” youre interrupted by him pushing into you and you moan gripping onto his shoulders and bringing yourself into the crook of his neck.
“fuck you always feel so good my love.”
you cant respond as he begins to thrust into you. his hands lock with yours and his lips are right against your ear.
“youre mine.”
you moan, “say it.”
“im yours aemond im yours.”
you dont notice as he reaches over into the bedside table and grabs a tiny black box.
“then marry me.”
you feel like you're in a daze as he continues to thrust and shows you a stunning ring inside the box.
“what?”
“marry me.”
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locketsvault · 7 months
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「 CUDDLING WITH BSD MEN PT 2/4 」
pairings: chuuya x reader ፥ akutagawa x reader ፥ oda x reader
tags: gender neutral reader, no agab mentioned, first person, fluff, cuddling/phyiscal affection
warnings: talks of canon illness in akutagawa, not proof read
other parts: ada ᨒ port mafia ᨒ doa + the guild ᨒ the hunting dogs
a/n: fyi for chuuya I have not read stormbringer so forgive me. oda is also short because I didn’t really know what to say for him. no gender or sex mentioned, no pronouns either!
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// chuuya nakahara ⌇˚.༄
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⮑ Is there such thing as classy cuddles? Because he gives classy cuddles.
⮑ The word I’d use for him in a relationship is classy, I can’t help it. But I do mean classy in a good way. Physical affection with him started off small, and he allowed you to pace when you were ready for more. I also see him as someone who always has an arm around you, either over your shoulders or on your waist.
⮑ He keeps pda to a minimum, he won’t cuddle you in public, especially in front his co workers. He’s an executive and he takes it serious. I also don’t think he’d want to show you as his weakness, he wouldn’t want you to get hurt.
⮑ Cuddling with Chuuya is oddly nice. Oddly because he seems rough on the outside. He is very rarely little spoon during cuddle sessions, he feels insecure. But he makes up for it, he’s a great big spoon. He’s a warm, very very warm. I can actually picture you in between his legs cuddling him while he has a wine glass in his hand. Now a many things could happen, one of you is talking, or you’re watching something. Either way, it works well with him.
⮑ The downside is he isn’t home much for cuddles. He’s either away for jobs or at work. So unless you’re willing to sit in his lap while he does paperwork, you don’t get your cuddles.
⮑ 7/10, very good cuddles …when you get them.
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// ryunosuke akutagawa ⌇˚.༄
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⮑ I just want to know how you managed to touch him in the first place.
⮑ Everyone always says he is touch adverse, which I completely agree, but then people usually say that when it comes down to it he hates it and stuff like that. I have to disagree. I think he’s terrified of it yes, he grew up without any form of physical love, but I do think deep down he yearns for it. He craves it and, when he finally gives in, his entire meticulously built wall completely shatters. Which is how I wonder, how’d you manage it?
⮑ I won’t lie, I believe behind closed doors once he’s comfortable with cuddling or touch and he’s quite clingy. You just feel so warm and well— safe. I can promise you though, it will only be behind closed doors. Do not try to be physically affectionate in public, especially in front of his coworkers. At least not for a very long time.
⮑ I like to imagine that after a time, with lots of reassurance about his ability, he will pull you into cuddles with rashomon. Which, I feel like he’d be bad about verbally asking for affection so he’d do that instead. It’s easier on his illness to use his ability.
⮑ Speaking of his illness sadly, it can make cuddling tough. One moment you could be resting in his arms and the next he’s having a nasty coughing fit. There’s been times when he’s be insecure about his illness and not want to be touched anymore.
⮑ 4/10, I love my baby but his illness + his traumas it’s hard for him to be physically affectionate.
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// oda sakunosuke ⌇˚.༄
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⮑ He takes care of orphans therefore I am a firm believer he knows how to cuddle.
⮑ I mean it too, he takes care of kids physically and emotionally, he’s got dad hugs. If anyone is gonna hold you and it make you feel safe and taken care of, it’s him. And he knows it too. And he has a six sense for when you need cuddling. And sometimes you end up in a cuddle pile with the kids. I don’t make the rules.
⮑ Oda is 50/50 with pda, he doesn’t mind it, especially if it’s something you love. But it does worry him, like Chuuya, he’s afraid of showing you as a weakness and you getting hurt or killed. But if it’s safe, he usually sticks to holding your hand or holding your waist. I can see him holding you close with your heads rested in each others shoulders while at a public theater.
⮑ Private cuddles are common and comfortable. Oh and he’s always the big spoon. He’s always holding you, I don’t really see him as the type to be held.
⮑ 9/10 you can feel all the care in his arms.
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main hub ✦ masterlist ✦ to do list
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servingrobin · 2 months
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I'm dying for sum angst but like also a little fluff at the end like reader overdoses intentionally but receives medical attention before dying w the monster trio and law (seperately tho) there to confront and them comfort them abt it.. Srry abt the rough topic. Take care❤
Hey!! No worries and I hope I’ve done the topic some justice, these are quite short hcs as it is a very heavy topic to write about - to anyone this resonates with my messages are always open if you want to talk ❤️❤️❤️
Sanji, Luffy, Zoro, law
Warnings: mentions of suicidal thoughts, overdosing, depression, mental illness, angst and fluff
✨ requests are open ✨
Sanji
- You were in Chopper’s room, looking extremely feeble wrapped up in the white cotton of the infirmary bed
- Sanji had been crying all morning from the moment he’d found you in your shared room to now
- He couldn’t get the sight of you out of his head; lying there, eyes rolling back and eyelashes fluttering alarmingly
- A whole round of fresh sobbing started when you woke up, pleading and begging for a reason
- When you couldn’t give one - at least not one that would appease Sanji’s guilt
- He threw himself at you, wrapping you in a gentle but passionate hug
- Sanji cared for your every whim for days
- Made all your favourite foods, read you your favourite books, carried you out to see the sunlight when Chopper discharged you
- Most of all he refused to leave your side for weeks, he wouldn’t be so silly as to leave you to those thoughts again
Luffy
- actually the angriest out of all of them
- You are his sunshine and his heart, and you were ready to leave him so quickly
- Luffy was ready to sulk and shout until he saw you afterwards, pale and shaking in bed
- Your eyes were sunken and you looked so empty and Luffy just couldn’t take it
- He threw himself at you and wrapped around you like an octopus, hands and legs stretched everywhere for maximum cuddle
- He begs you not to do it again, please just come to him and he’ll do everything he can to help
- Luffy is attached to you for the next few weeks, you are basically carrying him at one point as he refuses to remove himself from his wrapped like a mummy position on your back
- You feel empty of any spark and Luffy makes it his mission to make you smile again
- Uses his piggybacking to steer you to food, he’ll say this is to help you get your strength up but you’re pretty sure he’s just always hungry
- Presses sweet kisses to your neck throughout the day from his position, calls it boyfriend healing
Zoro
- this man can hold a grudge and will when he finds out what you’ve done
- He won’t yell or upset you while you’re recovering, but best believe as soon as you’re out of that bed he will be berating the life back into you
- Is incensed that you would try to take yourself away from him, you are his happiness and one of the reasons he always has the strength to carry on towards his goals
- But also very strongly feels you should live for yourself and not for him
- Zoro is more practical than the others, yes he’ll care for you and help your recover, but he will also be helping you find coping strategies
- Makes you start training with him as soon as you’re clear to move
- Helps you use the physical activities to take out some of your stress and negativity
- Actually one of the most helpful of the lot
Law
- Law finds you splayed across the bathroom floor, skin deathly pale and chest barely rising for breath
- He wastes no time and fixes you himself, using his powers to heal you quickly
- You are an angry sobbing mess when you come out, you just wanted it all to be over
- Law has a very serious and Frank discussion with you about it
- If you want to die (and leave him) then you can have some self-respect and do it on the battlefield like a good pirate
- You’re shocked by his words and a laugh bubbles out of you. Law just smirks
- He’s seen many of the people the world has to offer and he knows better than to pretend a hug and a kiss will fix anything, so instead he goes for his usual bluntness
- Life stays as normal but if you notice more eyes on you whenever you take a minute to yourself, you don’t say anything
- And if you make it known you still intend to harm yourself, well Law hasn’t got time to find another crew mate as good as you so it will just have to wait, no arguments
- And eventually he might just convince you there’s still a lot to live for
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kombuuuu · 1 year
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miles deflecting is so GOOD he makes me ILL!!!!!! i love ur writing <3 do u think we cld have like a short continuation 4 it?
Deflecting on you.
42!Miles Morales x Fem!Reader
“Would you hurt me?” “Never again.”
continuation to this C:
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im infecting people with the 42!Miles propaganda cough cough 🗣️ ly2 pookie (also this is definitely not short)
A few days had passed now, and Miles had stayed his previous level of civil, bordering caring, with you.
He wasn’t glad with how easy he had let the two other kids get off. But when they were reduced to cowering forms in darkened corners whenever he was around, it brought a pinch of justice, pride to his chest. Although, James had a rather decent punishment, in his opinion.
Word had gone around that he’d gone insane, smashed his head against a desk in an old , deserted classroom until he’d passed out. Mangled his own skull, intended to stab someone, but couldn’t get up from the damage to his own self.
A tip to the cops surveying the scene, and the rumour was spread a little wider.
He had been wary with you, from the moment you both sat staring at the city life below you, in his bed.
In his room, his house with his Ma just outside. The domesticity of the moment making the ache in his lungs suffocate his heart. Squeezing and pumping out as much blood as it could, heart rate trying to keep up with the lack of air.
He’d thought back to it too often in the mere days since occurrence for him to simply brush it off, but he sure tried.
He tapped the rubber of his pencil along his desk, staring at the page below him. The words being said had been drowned out by his racing mind, something he fully knows would get him in trouble eventually for “lack of effort”. But it was maths, there wasn’t a single thing being told that he didn’t already know.
What had his current attention, was the faint sketch of you on his gridded paper. He hadn’t meant to draw it, he’d just—, spaces out and it was there when he snapped back.
Now he was at a standstill with himself, use the currently tapping eraser to get rid of the drawing, or live with the faint lines hidden between pages. It was obvious, rub it out. But the thing, the most difficult aspect—,
—Was how utterly gorgeous the drawing was.
How your hair framed the page, the shape of your eyes being shaded in led. The soft look you’d given him that night being practically pulled from his mind and placed on the cheap paper. He’d recreated it perfectly, he could feel the apprehension, the uncertainty.
But despite how bitter those words sounded, uncertainty was still consideration.
You were considering him. Not as an enemy, or a nuisance — as a stranger.
You can get to know a stranger.
You can get to know him.
Miles closed his eyes and groaned under his breath, rolling eyes at the hope rising in the back of his neck.
He flicked to the next page, promising to never open to it again.
If it ended up cut out of his book, folded neatly and stuffed in the hidden latch of his desk drawer, no one but him would know.
You hadn’t forgive him, of course you hadn’t — you’re not that naïve.
He hurt you, cause you an entire season of torment, sleepless night and stress filled days.
You tried to stay quiet, like you always had. Passing by crowds unnoticed and surfing under the noise with a cotton stuffed ear.
And he’d started a ruining of that.
Trying not to draw attention to yourself, despite him so clearly trying to put you in spotlight.
This whole ordeal was a domino effect from that damn kaleidoscope, and he was just another finger flicking the next tile.
Until he wasn’t.
And he’d near killed a man for you. Taken care of you, feared for your life.
He’d found you, from nothing but a gut feeling.
The way he would stare now, was less vindictive. His gaze no longer that of anger but of a man conflicted. Like he couldn’t tell what to think of you.
You lay over your ruffled sheets, quilt and bedding under you to not overheat yourself. You window was wide open, airing out your humid room. The soft sway of leaves sprouting from the vines crawling over your building was pleasant. Digging their roots in the crevices of your window sill like Miles had been digging into the crevices of your mind.
You put a hand over your head, stretching your back up and listening the the crack that came from it.
Dropping back down and huffing, you continued to watch your ceiling in mild disinterest, trying desperately to reach the essence of sleep, and let the way Miles’ lips curled into a smirk fall from your mind.
He hadn’t realised it, but his small rebuttal to your teasing that night in his room had made a permanent statement in your head, no longer able to forget about it.
“No, just you —,” Your mind hadn’t cared to supply the rest.
Every single thing about that scarring night had burned its way into your temporal lobe. Like giving it a searing kiss with memory stained lipstick.
A small clicking had caught your attention, like fingernails tapping glass. The clinks were rhythmic, had the coordination of a spiders legs.
Your focus on the plain ceiling was now broken, a curiosity replacing it.
You approached the open window without caution, Moonlight spilling through the glossy panes. Placing your hands on the sill, you leaned forward, and felt the small rush of wind over your shoulders, the breeze cooling your heated face. An urge to close your eyes and take it in almost over-reigned that new curiosity, but your self preservation thought better of it. Checking left and right either side as if someone was going to be waiting right there for you. Because that was a completely rational and not at all ludicrous thought. You scoffed to yourself, glancing at the skyline with glistening eyes before turning and heading back inside, to finally — maybe, fall asleep.
Miles released a quiet breath, braids swaying from his suspended position hanging from a rooftop. Your rooftop, of your building—.. Where he was watching you. It was coincidence, really. That somehow, running from guys he stole a cure his Momma needed for a patient from. And when grappling from building to building, using clips and hooks and zip lines to get away from them, he’d stumbled into your street.
He’d lie to himself and say it was just the street his Ma’s favourite Paella was made, but the one time he’d seen you, exhausted from school—, drag yourself into an apartment across the street from that very place..
His opinion hadn’t changed, so to speak. But there was an added motive, that’s it.
And he’s hiding, it’s not his fault if your apartment is high up. Or his need to see you is growing at alarming rates, or his heart was beating so loud in his ears that he hadn’t heard you approach the window.
So when your fingers had softly scraped along the sill of your window, he’d pulled himself above you — and prayed you wouldn’t look up.
You hadn’t, thankfully.
He’d watched the way your skin had shone under the city lights, your features illuminated and accentuated by the chaos the streets. You were so unbothered—, so calm, even amidst everything he (and everyone else) had put you through.
Like a stubborn stone keeping the whole wall from collapsing.
His admiration for you had grown, not only from the past months — which he realises is slightly sadistic — but from your tenderness that had only lasted mere minutes. Even the glimpse of a softer you, not the one covered in a satiated rage, hands squeezing lemons until the bitterness dripped not from the fruit broken skin, but from your own. The sting of acid only making your bloodied finger feel more justified.
Not that.
What he saw was a woman free of woes, no need to split her skin when her heart was already so vulnerable.
And he craved for a mere glimpse of that again.
Like old, your anger had satisfied him. Gave him those doses of you he’d fiend for, and had excited him to no end. Now, he’s found something stronger.
He can’t let you go.
He watches you scoff at yourself, his mask retracting from his face. You look towards the city’s edge one last time before turning and making your way back inside.
He sighs, adjusting his position on the buildings ledge, and grabs the waterspout running the side of the building, crawling back to the shadows.
His claws clink, like nails tapping glass.
There wasn’t a day of peace in the last fortnight.
You were still suffering the effects of your previous injuries. People knowing that something had gone down between you and James, seeing as he hadn’t showed up in two weeks. And the near-healed bruises on your face were a well indicator of your involvement.
So when you stumbled upon Keith, someone you’d basically owed your still-intact-body too, scrambling out of an alley. Bloodied and bruised, nose broken and face almost as busted as your was that day. Safe to say you weren’t exactly confused to what was happening.
He looked up, eyes meeting yours almost eerily fast, the blood from his nose coating his teeth a deep crimson. A sick chill ran down your spine and you stumbled back. A wet gasp for breath was heard, diverting your attention towards its gruesome origin.
Turning your body towards the darkened alley, vision blurring at the edges. Your breath escaped you.
Keith had started speaking, and over the ringing in your ears he’d begged for your forgiveness, scraping his knees while he clawed to get away from his friends continuous spluttered coughing.
“What—..”
Mathew was lying on the floor, avidly trying to protect himself using only his bare hands. While a figure you could only see the back of punched in a strict, repeated pattern — like they’d done this before.
“Miles?”
The man whipped his head towards you, blood dripping down a cut on his cheekbone, and a snarl over his face.
Said contortion quickly smoothened out, a rather *confronted look replacing it.
Keith was long gone by now, having dragged his bloodied body away from whatever mess you were now a part of.
“Chiquita, don’t freak out.”
The way your lungs seemed to refuse oxygen kind of refuted that command.
You were frozen still, eyes stuck on the barely conscious body beneath the subject of your recent intrigue.
Mathew was barely recognisable, eyes puffed up in bruises and bloodied flesh. Miles had taken near no damage compared to the other men.
“[Name], c’mon.” He was getting up now, shuffling off his opponent with a tone of apprehension.
Only when his movement shifted your frozen eyes, did you see the key details you’d missed.
Braids, Nikes, Jacket, Collar, Claws.
A spray painted logo you’d only ever seen one man branding.
The Prowler.
"No te precipites, Ma."
“Don’t act rash, Ma.”
Right as the endearment left his mouth, you turned on your heel and ran.
"[Name], Por dios — quedate aquí."
“[Name]! Oh my god — stay there.”
He waved nonchalantly to the definitely not-going-anywhere boy on the floor. Shifting his foot back and jumping at a wall, claws digging in and gripping the ledge to the roof, swinging himself over it and keeping the momentum in a run.
Darting through corner stalls and confused pedestrians, you tripped over yourself to get away.
A strong, persistent mantra of ‘Holy fuck.’ was circling through the forefront of your mind, and yet everything else was hyper aware.
Not a fault in your step as your grace seemed to come out in times of dire panic, like a dancer following their cues, every movement made around you was an instructors yell.
You turned into the alley leading to your apartment, a shortcut, when you heard someone drop down behind you. You spun around, fast enough to dizzy yourself, and gave one look to the neon mask of the vigilante before going to run again. A small noise of panic escaped your shaking form.
“No corras, por favor!”
“Don’t run, please!”
Your heart beat fast, reaching the door to your apartment complex, swiping your key card and launching yourself inside, the scuffle of shoes being heard just outside the slammed shut door.
“Please, [Name], let me in. We can talk this out, Ma.”
Miles begged, knocking on the complexs’ back door.
"They were gonna jump you, [Name].”
“I don’t believe you.”
Your voice came out shaking, confused and *scared. You’d known he’d been capable of violence. It was adamant in the way he wouldn’t flinch at a hit, or the scars that coated his exposed skin.
But this? A man who’s killed people? Who was going to do it again had you not been a witness.
“I—“ You whined, voice giving out and tears finally breaking the surface of your waterline. “I’ve seen you—,” The back of your head hit the metal door and you sobbed silently. “,—On the news.”
Outside the thin steel, Miles sighed, guilt weighing his chest down heavy. He got sloppy, and paid the price. His anger, rage toward these men. And what they’d planned to do to you — he’d say it was justified. You’d say it was monstrous.
“You kill people, Miles.”
His heart broke at the tone of your voice, the quiet sniffles and shortened sobs. The way your voice cracked and broke under the pressure of your open heart.
“Ma, I—“
“I don’t wan’ hear it.”
His hands rest on the cooled metal, forehead pressing against it as he sighed.
“Please let me in.”
“I can’t.”
“[Name]. Chiquita, por favor.”
He’d begged, ready to get on his knees and stand out in the 40° (104°) heat, and wait until you opened the door. Even if it took days.
Although,
“I’ll break in.”
“Wha—,” you cut yourself off in a sobbing laugh, rubbing at your tear tracked face. “Miles, That’s not a very good bargaining chip.”
He smiled, closing his eyes and loving the sweetened tone you held. You weren’t scared of him, you were scared of the Prowler.
“‘Made you laugh.”
His accent thickened over the words, dragging them out in a rasping hush. Something only for you to hear.
Your resolve was breaking, lungs slowing to a calmed lull as the adrenaline left your body. You didn’t break though— couldn’t.
“I can’t—,” You looked to the ceiling of your apartment’s ground floor, standing in an empty back room. “,—You’re not good, Miles.”
“You helped them, before.” Your brows furrowed, not of anger, but of betrayed desperation.
“You.. You just watched—“
“I know, baby, I know.”
He opened his eyes again, staring at the door like it had attacked you.
“Go upstairs, yeah?”
“Why—“
“Just go on, Ma.”
You huffed out a slow breath, fight draining from your being. You wanted to yell, to scream at him how wrong of a man he was. How he couldn’t risk everything he had for you, not now. Not as the estranged people you were.
You wanted to show the anger you never could, reach that brink of anguish until you’d finally given him what he’d wanted since your moment of meeting. But he no longer wanted that.
He’d always wanted you to break, now he just wants you.
“Okay.” You were breathless and tired, coerced.
He lifted his head quickly, hands splayed against cooled metal curling into fists, an excitement running through him like that of a promise.
A minute later you were opening the door to your apartment, and locking it behind you. Anxiously making your way to your bedroom, worried to see what was inside, When you stepped inside, you weren't exactly surprised when your eyes landed on Miles' face, what had surprised you though — was that he was hanging off your window sill with a sheepish smile on his face.
"Now will you let me in?" His voice muffled through the glass and you breathed out a quick gasp, "You— Miles, get down!"
"Down?" He smirked, letting one of his hands drop from the wooden sill. "Oh my god!"
You rushed towards your window, discarding your phone on your bed carelessly. You slid your window up, as Miles laughed, swaying from his one hand. "Jesus Miles— are you trying to kill yourself?!"
He crawled through and you grabbed his free hand, dragging him inside. "Get—.. get." Giving up on your scolding half way through, you quickly ushered him towards your bed and turned to close your window.
"When you said 'Go up.' I didn't think yo—"
"I'm sorry.'
Your hands were left floating above your windowsill, shaking in still air. Miles had come up behind you, hands resting over your hips, toying with the hem of your shirt. His face lowered towards your ear voice dipping with it.
"I know you're mad— hate me, all that. 'S okay. I know—,"
He slowly moved his arms further around your waist, watching your breath hitch and the feel of your pulse under the blow of his breath.
",—And I'm sorry."
"I don't hate you."
"You don't hate anyone."
You relaxed into his hold, tears brimming forth again.
"You keep—" "Scaring you." "Yeah." He dragged his left hand down, trailing his fingers over the skin of your arms and watching as the bumps rose along your flesh. You were entrancing.
"Are you scared now, Mami?" He grabbed your wrist in a gentle hold, swiping his bloodied thumb over your smooth skin. Your hand twitched, and his thumb stopped.
"No." You flipped your hand into his, linking your fingers together, careful to not agitate his bruises.
"Would you hurt me?" He reciprocated, closing his fist over your own, the flick of pain felt like nothing— not when the aching in his chest was finally being calmed.
"Never again."
DUDE MY PHONE IS FUCKING BROKEN LOLLL
no ending image today im on my laptop (fucking cries)
translator (bbg) @sataraxia
taglist!! @red-riot-rat , @stvrfir3 , @erensbbg , @umawooma , @wisteriaflowersss , @inejsknifes , @meowsannie , @manduse , @rainy-darling , @riya1161 , @key-zee , @toasttew , @em711 , @starsval , @gemma42 , @lovelymiaablogs
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x0llaz · 5 months
Text
A Party ꩜⋆.°⭑
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Sungchan x Reader
In which YN meets a cute boy at a party…
Genres/warnings: fluff, crack, party fic, mentions of drugs and drinking, suggestive (no smut!), make out session, consent is given!! kinda open ending
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The wind blew across her skin as she walked behind her friends. She listened to them talk ahead of her, excitedly chattering about something she couldn’t quite make out. Her outfit was ill fitted for the weather, more skin exposed than covered, that did nothing to keep her warm. They had been walking for about fifteen minutes, with ten more to go. If they didn’t freeze by then.
YN felt herself wobble in her heels, none of her friends ahead of her were waiting up for her. She just continued, not too bothered by silence, enjoying the peace in the atmosphere. She appreciated quiet moments, but couldn’t deny she felt a bit left out. She suddenly felt an arm sling around her shoulder, and turned to find who was next to her.
“Don’t be nervous,” She said playfully. Yunjin was dressed as a cowboy, a bandana tied around her neck, and a brown hat sat on her head. She said she was matching with the hosts of the party, two of her friends from class.
“I’m not nervous,” YN laughed, leaning into Yunjin. “I just don’t really want to go,” she confessed. YN was dressed like cupid, wearing a pair of little wings, and white boots that were too tall for her to walk in comfortably.
Yunjin smiled at the shorter girl. “If an hour passes and you still aren’t feeling it, then we’ll walk to the milkshake place,” She told her, lightly shaking her friend. “But you have to actually try to have fun, have a drink or something,”
YN nodded, but still felt reluctant. She was never the type to party, which was polar opposite to many of her friends, who spent a fair amount of their weekends at house parties thrown by other people at their school. YN didn’t blame them, she could see how they enjoyed the parties, but never really liked them herself. She didn’t like the crowds of strangers, or having to shout over everyone to talk to a friend, and she didn’t want to get drunk in a room full of strangers.
Her friends had convinced her to tag along with them, telling her it would be fun, and they would all stay together. It was halloween, she’d be so lame not to go. She agreed reluctantly, not holding much hope that she’d have a particularly good time. The group was made up of girls they’d met in class, all sweet, friendly girls, but Yunjin was the only one she was really close with.
When they got to the door and the host opened the door, YN could immediately gauge the atmosphere of the house. Loud, and crowded. Wonderful. The host, Shotaro, was in her chemistry class, and seemed to be close with Yunjin. He let them all in with a smile, and when she stepped foot into the building, the smell of weed, alcohol and body odor hit her senses immediately. As her group walked in, they all huddled for a moment, sticking together for the most part, until one by one, they began splitting off.
Yunjin kept her hand on YN’s, not wanting her to get lost in the crowd, leading them into the kitchen to get some drinks. She looked around cautiously before opening the fridge and grabbing two bottles of beer. No one was supposed to get into the fridge, but YN assumed it was okay since Yunjin was close to the host. She grinned as she handed her a bottle, and the two clinked their glasses together.
The two girls drank for a while, moving around from time to time whenever Yunjin felt like it. They laughed while trying to yell over the loud music, and the other people yelling around them, finding it amusing how the other would say ‘what?’ after every five seconds.
YN saw Yunjin look around the room, and wave to some people YN didn’t know. Yunjin turned back to her friend.
“Do you wanna come with?” she yelled, gesturing over to two boys dressed as cowboys.
“I’m okay, go talk to them!” YN yelled back.
“Are you sure?” Yunjin asked, not wanting to leave her friend.
“Yes, now go!” YN yelled with a small laugh, pushing her friend away to go talk with her other friends. Truth be told, she didn’t want Yunjin to leave, but also didn’t want to be a stick in the mud.
After a few minutes of Yunjin being gone, YN got annoyed with the atmosphere once again, moving from her spot to lean against the wall. She sipped her drink, which by that point was getting warm and sticky. She opted to people watch from her spot, waiting for Yunjin to come back.
No one approached her, which was a relief, she didn’t want to deal with drunk college students. She looked around the crowds for Yunjin, but couldn’t find her. The music seemed louder without anything to distract her, the house was hotter, and the smell stronger. It all was beginning to be too much for YN. So when Yunjin pushed her way through the crowds with a grin, YN couldn’t stop the sigh she let out.
“Have fun?” she asked, returning to yelling like before.
“Yeah!” Yunjin shouted back. “They’re in the basement right now, it’s cooler down there!” she yelled, and YN tilted her head.
“Who?” YN asked.
“My friends, duh!” Yunjin locked arms with the shorter girl. “And there’s someone I want you to meet,” she wiggled her eyebrows as she began leading her downstairs. The pair weaved through the crowds, pushing their way past people as Yunjin grinned. They walked downstairs, and YN felt a rush of cool air graze her skin.
“Is that her?” one of the cowboys asked from the couch. YN looked down at the seven pairs of eyes staring up at her, and gave a small wave.
“Yup,” Yunjin dragged her down all the way. “This is YN, everyone say hi,” the boys all greet her at the same time.
“Hi, I’m Shotaro, and I’m also the host tonight,” one of the cowboys stood up to greet her. “The other cowboy is Eunseok, we’re twinning with Yunjin. Freddy kruger is wonbin, Luigi and mario are seunghan and Sohee respectively, men in black wannabe is anton-”
“It was last minute!” the younger boy shouted in protest.
“Okay, whatever. And angel boy-” he looked around before getting cut off by a tall boy approaching with two drinks, one that was somewhat unfamiliar, and one that happened to be her favorite.
“I’m sungchan,” The tall guy said to her, a playful smile spread across his pretty face.
“Nice to meet you,” She replied with a small smile, locking eyes with him before his eyes drifted to examine her further.
Sungchan handed her the bottle of the drink she liked, and she took it without hesitation. She looked around the room, the big couch in the center with a pretty big TV in front of it, and a bar by the stairs. It was a calmer atmosphere, relaxed, just YN’s cup of tea. Shotaro told her she could sit on the couch if she wanted, so she walked over.
“Yunjin said there was someone she wanted me to meet?” YN asked as she sat down. She saw how Eunseok and Shotaro smiled teasingly and Sungchan looked behind him to see Yunjin grinning at him.
“Some friends are playing some games upstairs,” Yunjin grinned. “You can join us if you want,” she offered before walking up, Eunseok and shotaro joining her.
Seunghan and Sohee were upstairs drinking, catching up with their other friends. Anton was talking to a girl he liked upstairs, and Wonbin was playing beer pong. It was just Sungchan and YN in the basement. She didn’t realize until the awkward silence set in, and she looked up to see sungchan standing by the bar, sipping his beer.
The two of them made eye contact, as sungchan was already looking at her. She broke it after a moment, looking down at her lap. Sungchan took the opportunity to walk over, sitting down next to her, a little bit away. He turned to look at her, and she glanced up to meet his gaze. He gave her a soft smile.
“I think I’m the one Yunjin wanted you to meet,” He confessed, and YN tilted her head.
“Why do you think that?” she asked, moving to face him a little bit.
“She overheard me talking to shotaro about how I thought you were pretty,” He shrugged with a smile. “I saw you while you were upstairs, and told them about you. Yunjin went ‘oh I know her, i can go get her!’ and then she dragged you down here,”
YN smiled a little. “So that’s why she seemed so excited,”
“I guess,” sungchan agreed. “You have full right to tell me to fuck off by the way, I will not be offended,”
YN laughed, pushing her hair over her shoulder before looking at him. “I wasn’t really planning on it,” she shrugged. “I think you’re pretty cool, and for whatever it’s worth,” she paused, contemplating her words. “I think you’re cute too,”
The two looked at each other for a moment. YN felt the heat rush to her cheeks, feeling silly for just calling a guy who was two heads taller than her cute. Sungchan just smiles, relaxing into the couch a little bit, a smirk on his face.
“So… would you want to chill with me? I’m great at scaring people off,” Sungchan offered, looking over at her.
“Sure,” YN nodded. “Do you wanna go upstairs? Have some more stuff to do?”
“Sounds good to me,” He stood up, and offered His hand to her, seeming more confident than before. She took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet, interlocking fingers as Sungchan led her upstairs.
The two of them joined their friends upstairs and teamed up for some games. Sungchan taught her how to play beer Pong, standing behind her to help her aim to sink the ball she threw. He cheered her on through the game, and drank whenever she drank. When the two of them won the game, they high fived each other, and neither of them fully realized Sungchan’s fingers intertwined with hers.
Through the next game, Sungchan’s hand rested on her waist, keeping her close when she took her third shot. YN always had one hand interlocked with his as they continued, pressing up against his side as the night continued, feeling gigglier than usual.
They played a few more games, and took a few shots too many, when YN felt that fuzzy feeling she got when she had a little too much to drink. She leaned against sungchan, talking to Yunjin as she felt the alcohol really kick in.
Sungchan stopped drinking a bit before her, only having a light buzz when he realized YN was getting a bit drunker than he was. He kept her close while they were upstairs, trying to keep her out of trouble, and to keep her from getting lost.
Sungchan had suggested they take a break from the crowd when he noticed her steps got wobbly, and started giving her water instead of more alcohol. He saw Yunjin give her a look from across the room, and he knew it was about time for them to start winding down, so neither would be too hungover.
The two of them went back to the basement, sitting on the couch while their friends relaxed around the room. YN leaned against him, as his arm draped over her, fingers rubbing gently against her dress. The two of them talked for a while, getting to know little things about each other. Her cheek was pressed against his chest, almost resting on his lap, as sungchan absentmindedly played with her hair.
“I want another drink,” YN murmured before looking up at sungchan, battering her lashes to really convey the message.
Sungchan smiled at her, and brushed the hair back from her cheek. “You’re drunk, cutie, you shouldn’t drink any more,” his finger grazed her cheek, squeezing her skin lightly.
YN jutted out her bottom lip, looking up at him through sad eyes. When she saw his smirk, and subtle head shake, she returned to leaning against his chest. “You’re no fun,”
Sungchan laughed a bit. “Sorry, baby,” he said softly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her hair. He rested his arm around her again, holding her close to him as they sat together.
There was a silence between them, comfortable as He played with her hair. Sungchan noticed some of his friends had left, and now the only three left were Yunjin, Eunseok, and Shotaro. The three of them were clearly trying to observe what was going on between Sungchan and YN, and noticed Sungchan looking back at them. They made a few gestures, shotaro mouthed, ‘should we go?’ and all three filed upstairs when sungchan nodded.
It was just them in the room, and sungchan felt his heart beat against his chest. He didn't know what to do in the moment. He didn’t know what would be the next move, or what would be too far. So he decided to just try and take things slow.
“You know,” he spoke up, ears heating up at the confession. “Yunjin told me what beer you liked before you came downstairs,” YN looked up at him a bit. “She also told me you were a lightweight, so I should probably keep an eye on you,”
“I’m not a lightweight,” YN pouted.
“Sure,” Sungchan smiled, looking into her eyes. “But you’re drunk now, so i’ll take care of you,” he had a silly smirk across his lips, hand resting against her waist.
“You don’t have to take care of me, I’m just buzzed” YN muttered, looking down. “I’m a big girl,”
“I know,” he admitted, bringing his hand under her chin. “I just want to,”
The two of them looked at each other for a moment, YN’s eyes were wide, getting lost in his soft gaze. It was only a moment before YN sat up a little bit and leaned forward, gently pressing her lips against his. It was a soft kiss, lasting a fleeting moment before YN pulled away, embarrassed by her sudden movement. She looked at sungchan who had a playful smile before brushing his thumb against her bottom lip as he held her chin.
YN grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pulled him closer, looking into his eyes, all the embarrassment gone. Sungchan’s gaze faltered for a moment.
“Is this okay?” he asked in a hushed tone as YN leaned back on the couch, pulling him to hover over her.
YN nodded. “Yes,” she whispered, feeling one of his hands press against her waist. His lips pressed against the skin of her cheek, breathing heavy.
“Are you sure?” he whispered before pressing a kiss to her jaw. “You’re drunk,”
YN just nodded again, pulling him close and kissing his lips. This time sungchan Let her have her way, still lightly buzzed by his previous drinks. He groaned lightly as he kissed her back, his forearm resting on the couch cushions while his other hand held her waist. YN had a hand in his hair, lightly brushing her nails along his skin.
They were both frenzied, lost in their own passion and lust for each other. Their kiss grew sloppy as YN began unbuttoning Sungchan’s shirt. Everything felt so fast to her, and she was unable to tell if it was because of the alcohol or sungchan, and his intoxicating cologne. Sungchan was about as lost as she was, kissing her neck, leaving light marks across her skin. The two of them were so lost, they didn’t even realize Sohee had walked downstairs.
“Oh shit!” Sohee gasped, pulling Sungchan and YN out of their dazes. He quickly covered his eyes and ran upstairs, hollering, “I saw nothing!”
Sungchan groaned a bit and YN just looked up at him. She met his eyes before she continued unbuttoning his shirt. Sungchan’s eyes widened, and he lightly grabbed one of her wrists, shaking his head.
“What’s wrong?” YN asked, eyes wide, propping herself up on her elbows.
“Nothing,” he said gently. “I just… don’t think we should do this right now,” He told her, pulling her up from her position to sit next to him. “You know, in the basement of a stinky house party,” He heard a soft Giggle from YN. “And you’re drunk, so let’s not do anything we could regret,”
YN reluctantly nodded, smoothing out her dress and looking down at her hands, feeling the embarrassment creep back up on her. Sungchan studied her for a moment, noticing the shift in demeanor, and how she tried to make herself smaller.
“Let me take you home,” Sungchan Offered. YN looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. “I’m bored of the party, and you probably should go get some rest,”
“I didn’t drive,” She admitted.
“I did,” Sungchan reached for her hand, and took it gently.
“We both drank,” She points out.
“I’ll walk,” He told her, looking at her with a serious look. “If you don’t want me to take you home, just tell me,”
“No! It’s not that, sorry…” She sighed, pushing her hair back. “I’d really appreciate it, thank you. It just surprised me a little.”
Sungchan smiled and stood up, buttoning his shirt back up and pushing his hair out of his eyes. He offered her his hand, and pulled her up to stand next to him. The two of them walked up the stairs and through the house, said goodbye to their friends and left.
The walk To YN’s apartment was quiet, neither of them knowing what to say to break the silence between them. YN showed him the way, and sungchan walked along with her, keeping their hands interlocked despite the unspoken words between them. YN felt embarrassed for getting drunk, and being so forward with Sungchan, only to somewhat be rejected, and have him walk her home. Sungchan didn’t mind at all, enjoying the change of pace for the night. It gave him a moment to study her more, to take in her beauty.
When they got to her apartment, YN let go of sungchan’s hand, dropping it to her side, missing the warmth of his palm in hers.
“Are you okay here?” Sungchan asked, studying her expression.
“Yeah,” She said after a moment, a slight sigh in her voice. Sungchan picked up on it.
“Do you want me to walk you up?” He asked. He watched as she processed his question, debating in her mind what she should say in response. He was hoping she’d say-
“Yes, please,” She gave him a shy smile, and Sungchan wrapped his arm around her waist, nodding for her to lead the way.
In the elevator, YN leaned against Sungchan, wishing she had taken the stairs to try and squeeze in more time with the handsome stranger she met that day. The two of them didn’t speak much more, just resting their arms around each other and enjoying the peace. They reached her floor, and Walked towards her flat. When they reached the door, they each said a quiet goodbye before YN slipped inside, and closed the door.
YN regretted it instantly, wishing she would have invited him in for some food, or to just try and get more time with him. Likewise, sungchan was beating himself up mentally for not trying to make another move. They both stood on opposite sides of the door, both ready to make a move to try and get the other to stay, even if just for a moment.
When YN swung her door open, she was met with the sight of a shocked sungchan, who had his fist raised to knock on the door. “You’re-!” they both stuttered out, shocked to see the other had the same idea that they did. The shock wavered and left the two just smiling at each other, both blushing a bit.
“Do you want to-”
“Can I get your number?” Sungchan interrupted her, feeling like if he didn’t ask at that moment, he’d never be brave enough to ask again.
YN smiled and took his phone, entering her contact information, and a little heart next to it. Sungchan grinned and pocketed his phone. “I wanna take you on a real date, not just a sloppy makeout session,”
“I’d really like that,” She grinned at him, unable to hide her happiness at his proposal.
“What were you gonna ask?” Sungchan asked.
“Oh! Well, i was just gonna ask if maybe, you wanted to stay for a little bit… but i know it’s late so,” she told him shyly, not wanting to pressure him.
“Do you want me to?” He asked leaning towards her with a little smile.
YN smiled, grabbing his hand and lightly pulling him inside. “Just for one movie,”
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ITS FINALLLLLYYYYYY OUT
I have a lil smth smth planned for a part 2… and 3, 4, 5 😈 so lmk if you want those or just a silly oneshot
taglist: @oftenjisung , @vhuteryh , @skzhoe4life , @cheederzchez , @so-lychee , @leehanascent
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pparadiselost · 6 months
Note
your noa fanfic drove me crazy there is nothing i wouldn't do for you to write about ego 🧎
actaeon.
ego jinpachi x fem reader ego sets up the perfect trap to make you undeniably his. warning(s): nsfw, noncon, being filmed without consent, exhibitionism minors do not interact. author's note: hello there! thank you so much for sending in a request!! this one... got a little out of hand and gnarly, so if you'd prefer that i write a fic without the dark content, please shoot me another ask and i'll happily write up another fic for you!! (ノ*°▽°*)
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ego jinpachi is distinctly aware of who he is as a person, and he’s distinctly aware of the privileges that come with his odd place as the coach of the blue lock project. he’s sworn under some legal masquerade to use his power only for the betterment of soccer’s future, as if anything other than his obsession with the sport flows inside his veins. 
he knows his place as a heretic. he’s an outcast always looking in: the director but never the star, the god but never the devotee, the abyss but never the light. he’s seen the way people distances themselves away from him, be it anri or even veterans like noel. ego is perfectly content playing the role he does. his crazed behavior brings the end, and in his worldview, the ends always justify the means.
but that doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy the unforeseen pleasures that spring up along the thorny path. he’s a free man now, and he has the world at his disposal. fortune favors the bold, but happiness favors the hedons. 
“you’re so sloppy,” he drawls in that condescending voice of his. if it weren’t for the slight edge to it, you would think it sounded robotic. his long cock is buried deep into you as you squirm in his lap, and his long arms hold you flush and captive against his chest. 
you’re faced with the horrifying sight of every single one of ego’s giant monitors lit up, each one displaying you. they’re all relatively innocent moments from your life. you’re eating breakfast in one, scrolling through your phone on the other, paging through a book you picked up in another… things that, creepy as they may be, are candid snapshots of your average life. 
except for the singular monitor facing center stage, seeming to mock you. you watch, stricken with fear, as the video plays a recording of you stuffing your fingers in your cunt, your pussy stretched out unmistakably on display. ego grins devilishly, and he thrusts in rhythm with the video of you masturbating.
“n-no… don’t do this to me-,” you squeak out. you need to clear your mind, need to speak reason into him, need to persuade him to get rid of these clips and to quit using all the cameras in the building for ill, and yet with his cock sliding in and out of you, it’s impossible for you to get any of your priorities straight. “d-don’t thrust into me like that-!”
“but you like it. you like it when i fuck you to a video of you getting off,” he giggles. you don’t need to be looking at him to envision the crazed gleam he’s bound to have in his eyes. you hate how much your pussy flutters and stretches around his cock, your juices making you gush every time you sink back down onto his lap. 
his hands tweak at your nipples, and he pinches your hardened buds in rhythm with the video. every time your fingertips swirl at your sticky clit, he moves his hands accordingly. pleasure courses in hot flashes across your vision and your cunt, and your hips move lewdly on your own, against your better judgment. 
“feels good, doesn’t it?” he chuckles behind you. his voice sounds high-pitched and crazed, like he’s a schoolboy going crazy over a scrap of attention from his crush. you should be disgusted, you should be scared, and yet with each inch of his long cock that pushes in and out of your squeezing pussy, your mind threatens to go dangerously blank. 
you shake your head weakly. sparks of heat and pleasure light up inside your brain. the dull stretch inside of your walls has your stomach doing backflips, his cockhead prodding deliciously at all of your deepest parts. “no- not you- you can’t do anything to me-”
he clicks his tongue, and when your head slumps against your chest, trying to retain your sanity by looking away from all the lewd videos of you he’s hoarded, he hisses as if you’ve scorned him. he grabs your face harshly, long and calloused fingers digging into the flesh of your face and neck, and he wrenches your eyes upwards so that you can’t look away from the screen. 
you hate it. your vision blurs when tears glaze over your eyes, but that can’t save you from the video. your legs are spread shamelessly open, your drenched pussy fully out on view as you toy with yourself. your face is twisted into a clear moan, lips parted as you gasp and cry out in pleasure, fingers buried deep inside of your cunt. your juices drool generously out of your clenching hole, and your thighs quiver uncontrollably as you masturbate.
“see? i have all of this and more,” ego murmurs. the glee in his tone is unmistakable. “i know how you like to touch yourself, how you like to be fucked. it’s cute that you think you can hide anything from me. you’re more feisty than you let on, aren’t you?”
he thrusts harshly up into you, his heavy balls slapping up against your clit. you barely bite back a strangled cry, electric sparks springing up inside of your chest. something tight pulls at your core, heat swirling like a slow whirlpool. you grit your teeth, and your breathing grows shallows. the friction of his cock rubbing into your gummy walls feels sinfully good, and his almost inhuman length makes it ridiculously easy for his tip to ghost over all of your sensitive parts.
it’s a lethal combination. his dick is just as long and tall as the rest of him is, not too thick but so long and enough to fill you up perfectly. each pump of his cock into you has you seeing stars, your nerves twitching and collapsing under the mounting pressure inside of your pussy. maybe it’s that, but maybe it’s also all the time he’s spent in the shadows, learning every inch of your body through the illicit videos and streams he’s collected of you, memorizing every quirk, every kink you have, making sure he knows by heart the best way to get you to crumble under his touch.
he was a feral beast that had been lying in wait, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. all you needed to do was to let your guard down for a split second, and he took full advantage of it to expose every single one of your weaknesses.
“don’t your worry. i’ll prove to you that i mean everything i say. there’s nothing i hate more than someone that can’t live up to their bragging. results… results are the only things that matter in this world—,” his sick laughter snaps you back out of your grief, “—even if that means making you cum until you’re a fucked out mess.”
he grips at your thighs, spreading your legs open a bit further in his lap so he can fuck his cock even deeper into you. your head feels heavy, a loaded scream locked in your throat when his tip starts fucking into your deep spots. you swear he’s hitting at your cervix, his cockhead trying to pry the entrance to your womb open so he can defile you thoroughly. you wouldn’t put it past him; ego was never the kind of guy to be satisfied with only doing the job halfway. it was always all or nothing with him.
pleasure consumes you from the inside out, his length stretching you out obscenely. your tight walls were massaging him so expertly, and ego can almost delude himself into believing that your cunt was made just to fit around his dick. you were made for him, made to be his perfect mate, and all the times he spent pleasuring himself to the illicit videos he took of you couldn’t even come close to actually getting his paws all over you.
“right here, isn’t it?” he thrusts up harshly into you, and you jerk back against his chest when heat slams down onto your skin. he’s abusing your g-spot, relentlessly bullying your sweet spots. helpess cries escape from you unwillingly as he fucks into you at his pace, his thrusts too sharp and too quick for you to relax into it, but your brain eagerly soaks up the friction. your cunt is begging for cock, wanting the addictive feeling of being filled up disrespectfully like you were just some loose toy, keeping you at constant odds with your shattered rationale. 
ego giggles in your ear, and you know his words are right. he does genuinely have you struggling futilely in the palm of his hand. you’re overwhelmed by all of the sensations around you: the haunting image of your fingers stuffed in your pussy flickering behind your eyes like a mocking vision. your hole was unknowingly milking him over and over, the shame and embarrassment of having to watch yourself fingering yourself while getting fucked making your pussy fall victim to all of the confusing pleasures.
“i can feel you getting tighter and tighter. i’m making you feel good,” he mocks you. his hands keep squeezing at your boobs, mesmerized by the soft flesh of your chest. his balls slap up against your skin, just waiting to spill his seed into your pussy and make you his forever. he sounds so pleased with himself. “you love to act like you’re all high and mighty, but we’re the same, you and i. it’s why i think you’re perfect for me. you’re just as dirty, just as much of a freak, and it’s my job to make sure you know that.”
tightness flares in your gut as if it’s mocking you. you don’t want to cum, don’t want to break that final boundary, don’t want to admit to yourself that you’re fully getting off of being manhandled and disgraced like this. but your body was never yours this entire time, and whatever madness possesses you right now only cares about the long dick sliding in and out of you.
“are you gonna cum? you’re gonna cum, aren’t you? filthy girl.” he twists your nipples harshly as if to emphasize his last few words. you feel so heavy and so weak all at once, broken down bit by bit and torn apart like a sheet of paper. how could you even dream of fighting back? you grit your teeth, not wanting to think about the frothy ring of ivory forming at the base of his cock, where your entrance is enticingly stretched out. “cumming from having a guy like me defile you… cumming from getting fucked while i play a video of you playing with yourself… filthy, filthy girl.”
tears had dotted over your vision a long time ago, and this was already a battle for you to lose the moment you got roped into his trap. your pride grips at your mind one last time, and you flex your thighs, wishing yourself the strength to forgive yourself when the worst of this would be over. even if intuitively, you knew that this was nothing more than the beginning to a wretched, wicked fall from grace, you wanted to take what little your remaining sanity could afford you.
you muster up the firmest voice you can. “you’re the absolute worst- you’re the scummiest man i know!”the lanky man simply laughs again, unaffected by your hurled insults. “oh, please. you’re just too predictable? you think i don’t know that? you think i wouldn’t consider myself scummy and awful after i’ve filmed you for so long in secret? what a stupid whore you are. it’s a good thing you have that pretty body of yours. otherwise, you’d really be nothing more than an unsalvageable excuse for a human being. naïve, gullible, all too easy for me to take advantage of…”
he pauses for a moment, and he leans in. horror settles in your psyche again when you can feel his hot breath fanning over the curve of your ear, and he presses a sickeningly gentle kiss right behind your ear. 
“and if i’m the scummy one,” he murmurs contemplatively, “what does that make you? you’re the one getting off on it. you say you’re not, but your body doesn’t lie to me. i can feel every little fucking thing that slutty pussy of yours is doing whenever i fuck myself into you.”
your stomach twists, painfully and needily, and your legs shake as his cockhead keeps ramming into your sweet spot. his tip bullies you right where you like it most, and your vision glazes over, threatening to go hazy and leave you at the mercy of this terrible man. you’re gonna cum—you can feel it. you can feel the heat building up inside of your core, the depraved tension just about to break.
you clench your eyes shut and brace yourself. your walls are greedily sucking onto his length, the wet noises of your bodies coming together echoing across the room. your toes curl as the pleasure overtakes your mind, and it feels like a second pulse is forming in your cunt, your body no longer willing to listen to you.
you grit your teeth and throw your head back against ego’s shoulder, much to his delight. “...nngh-!”
your pussy clamps down on his cock, milking him with all it has. it feels like something deep inside your stomach is exploding, and heat grips you all over. your nerves all feel as if they’ve been lit on fire. pleasure floods your brain as your pussy quivers and throbs. you hate that it feels good, a pleasure so blinding that your vision spins and it feels like you’re losing your center of gravity. any lingering strength escapes from your body as you shamelessly orgasm all over the cock that’s stuffed deep inside you, your walls fluttering all around his length and drooling around it as if it's the most delicious thing your cunt has felt. 
even as your high consumes you entirely, ego continues to fuck his hips upwards into you, threatening to break your body in half over his dick. you let out an incoherent cry, thrashing weakly against his frame. “n-nooo… d-don’t…!”
he laughs, his voice raspy and evil. “you came, didn’t you? don’t fucking lie to me. i told you i can feel everything, can’t i? that pretty little pussy of yours came from getting fucked by my cock. and to think you were going on and on about how you hated me that much… you’re not above getting dicked down, are you now? that’s what i thought… you really do look the prettiest when you’ve been fucked out like this.”
you don’t even have it in yourself to fight back against him. his cock weighs heavy inside of you, still thrusting rapidly into you despite the overstimulation that starts to claw at your weary insides. it’s too much; he’s moving too much at his own peace without any consideration as to whether or not you can fully keep up. but you don’t have any remaining fight to do anything to defend yourself, and it’s all you can do to even keep your head upright as he pistons his hips into you as if you’re his personal sex toy.
he twitches dangerously inside you, savoring the newfound tightness of your walls from fucking you straight through your orgasm. you’re sobbing softly, unable to form full thoughts and just crying out, praying that this whole thing will stop soon so you can tend to whatever remnants of your shattered psyche you can salvage. he’s close too: you can feel the way his cock throbs and shudders inside of you as he drags his inches in and out, the way his balls tense up against the curve of your ass, his ragged breathing and his muttered threats of stuffing your cunt up so full with his cum that not even contraception can save you from being marked inside and out by him.
you brace yourself. it should be over once he’s done having his fun with you.
but instead, he pauses. you peel your eyelids open at the sudden stop, and you gasp when he leans forward in the seat he has you trapped in between. he’s still buried deep inside you, his cockhead pressed up dangerously against the entrance to your womb, but he reaches for the controls of his monitor.
you know better than to think he has anything good in mind by reaching for his technology. but ego is faster, smarter, in all ways better at thinking a step ahead of you, and after pressing a button, he quickly traps you in between his long limbs to keep you from moving. you whimper pathetically, your legs spread out to reveal your stretched out cunt being continuously speared on his dick.
“shhhh,” he chuckles, the maniacal gleam in his eyes twinkling with an unmatched madness. horror swirls again inside of your gut when you hear the mechanic whirring of a camera, and your fears are confirmed when the giant camera lens atop his many desktop monitors swings towards the two of you, seemingly focusing straight onto your fucked out, restrained form, getting fucked out helpessly like some scene straight out of a porno.
in another move of faux affection, he kisses the shell of your ear. “letting you get off with only getting creampied is too predictable, don’t you agree? just you wait, my filthy girl… in a few seconds, that camera is going to display everything we’re doing to the entire facility… those hungry, hungry boys are going to see you bouncing up and down on my cock, and they’re going to see every second of me filling up that little hole of yours with my cum.”
you don’t want to accept this ridiculous truth. this has to be a bad dream, a manifestation of your nightmares that you just can’t wake up from, and yet the painful aches at your thighs and inside your pussy tell you otherwise. this is the reality you’re trapped in, and you can’t run away from it.
“you’ll be all mine forever,” ego whispers as the cameras buzz to life, sealing your fate entirely. “i just have to make sure the entire world knows it.”
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jundundun · 1 year
Text
SONDER : SEUNGCHEOL
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description : seuncheol is the head knight of the kingdom of nephele. what happens when seungcheol begins to fall for the princess and resident sweetheart, Y/N.
warnings : smut (but it’s marked with special borders in case you want to skip it), angst (fluff at the end & embedded throughout), slow burn, mentions of violence
pairing : knight!seungcheol x fem!reader
word count : 14.3k
see the whole series description here !
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The sun had just risen over the Kingdom of Nephele, casting a golden glow across the sprawling fields and lush forests. The air was crisp and clean, and the sweet scent of dewy grass mixed with the fragrant aroma of blooming wildflowers. It was a peaceful morning, but the kingdom was far from at peace.
Seungcheol, the head knight of Nephele, stood atop the castle walls, surveying the landscape before him. He was a man of few words, but his piercing gaze and chiselled features spoke volumes. His armour shone in the morning light, and his sword hung at his side, a constant reminder of his duty to protect the kingdom.
As he looked out over the horizon, Seungcheol could see the distant hills and mountains that marked the border between Nephele and the neighbouring kingdom of Roseate. Ever since the newly empowered prince, Minghao, had taken the throne due to his father's looming illness, tensions had been running high between the two lands. Minghao's strict rules and harsh governance had sparked protests and uprisings, and many feared that war was on the horizon.
Seungcheol was resolute in his duty to protect Nephele, but he knew that the situation was growing increasingly volatile. He turned to the guards stationed at the castle gates and spoke in a low, authoritative voice.
"Make sure the gates are secure, and keep a close watch on the horizon. We cannot afford to let our guard down, not with the threat of Roseate looming so close."
The guards nodded, and Seungcheol continued his patrol along the castle walls. As he made his way to the courtyard, he saw Princess Y/N sitting on a bench, gazing wistfully out at the gardens. Her beauty was breathtaking, her hair a cascade of dark waves that framed her delicate features. She wore a gown of soft lavender, the colour complementing the warmth of her skin.
"Good morning, Princess," Seungcheol said, bowing respectfully, staring discretely from the corner of his eye at the way the corners of her mouth turned as she acknowledged him.
Y/N smiled softly and returned the gesture, lifting her hand over her eyes to make the glare of the sun less evident as she looked up at the head knight. "Good morning, Seungcheol. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"
Seungcheol nodded, but his expression remained guarded as his posture stiffened. "Indeed, but we must remain vigilant. The situation with Roseate is growing increasingly dangerous."
Y/N's expression grew solemn, and she looked out at the horizon with a sense of foreboding. "I know, Seungcheol. I worry for our kingdom and our people. But what can we do? We cannot fight a war, not without risking countless lives."
Seungcheol placed a comforting hand on Y/N's shoulder, hesitating as he did so, knowing his actions meant more than what first came to eye. "We will do what we can to protect our people and our land. That is our duty as knights and as citizens of Nephele."
Y/N looked up at Seungcheol, and their eyes met in a moment of silent understanding. She knew that he was a man of his word and that he would do whatever it took to keep their kingdom safe. But as their gazes lingered, Y/N felt a spark of something more, a feeling that she couldn't quite put into words. Had Seuncheol always looked like that?
She quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she shuffled around on the bench, trying to look natural as she blushed. "Thank you, Seungcheol. I know you will do your best."
Seungcheol nodded, his own heart racing with a sense of longing, though towards what, he was unsure. As he turned to resume his patrol, he couldn't help but steal one last glance at Y/N, wondering if she felt the same way he did.
As the day wore on, in the castle chambers, Princess Y/N sat at her desk, poring over maps and documents. She was determined to find a solution to the tensions between Nephele and Roseate, but the more she researched, the more hopeless it seemed.
Her older brother, Prince Jeonghan, entered the room with a sly smile on his face. "What's this, little sister? Trying to solve the world's problems on your own?"
Y/N rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smile at her brother's teasing. Jeonghan was always quick with a joke or a quip, but she knew that deep down, he cared for her deeply.
"I'm just trying to help, Jeonghan," Y/N replied, gesturing towards the papers on her desk as an exasperated sigh left her mouth. "I don't want to see our kingdom suffer because of the actions of another."
Jeonghan's expression grew serious, and he walked over to Y/N's side. "I understand your concern, Y/N. But we must be realistic. We cannot risk going to war with Roseate, not when our own people are still suffering from the aftermath of the last conflict."
Y/N sighed, knowing that her brother was right. But she couldn't help but feel frustrated and powerless in the face of the growing tensions.
As the day drew to a close, Seungcheol found himself once again patrolling the castle walls. The sun had set, and the stars twinkled overhead like tiny diamonds in the sky.
He heard a rustling in the bushes below, and his hand instinctively went to his sword. But as he peered over the wall, he saw a lithe figure sneaking towards the castle gates.
"Who goes there?" Seungcheol called out, his voice echoing through the still night air, his authority prevalent through the low tone of his voice.
The figure froze, then turned to face him, albeit with a bit of hesitance. It was Princess Y/N, dressed in a cloak and hood, a bundle of papers clutched in her hands. A guilty look flashed across her face before she masked it with a stronger appearance.
"Princess Y/N?" Seungcheol asked, surprised, struggling to find the words to express his disbelief at the discovery in front of him. "What are you doing out here?"
Y/N looked up at Seungcheol, her eyes flashing with determination and desperation. "I have to do something, Seungcheol. I can't just sit by and watch as our kingdom falls apart. I have a plan, but I need your help."
Seungcheol felt a surge of admiration for the princess, and couldn't deny the thrill of excitement at the thought of working with her. His heartbeat wavered as she processed her speech, Princess y/n, the vision of beauty and grace, needed him, him. But he knew that the risks were great and that they had to be careful.
"Tell me your plan, Princess," Seungcheol said, his voice low and steady. "But be warned, we must tread carefully. The slightest misstep could mean disaster for us all."
Princess Y/N nodded, understanding the gravity of their situation. "I know, Seungcheol. But I truly believe that this is the only way to avoid war and protect our kingdom."
She handed him the bundle of papers, which he quickly scanned over, trying to ignore y/ns hopeful eyes looking directly up at him. It was a proposal for a treaty between Nephele and Roseate, outlining terms that would benefit both kingdoms and ease the tensions between them.
Seungcheol was impressed by the thoroughness and thoughtfulness of the plan, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of worry in his gut. "This is a risky proposition, Princess. Minghao may not be willing to negotiate, and if he finds out about our plan…"
"I know the risks, Seungcheol," Y/N interrupted, her eyes unwavering. "But I refuse to sit by and do nothing. Will you help me?"
Seungcheol hesitated for a moment, but then he looked up and met her gaze. "I will, Princess. But we must keep this plan between us for now. We cannot risk any leaks."
Y/N nodded, relieved that she had found an ally in Seungcheol. "Thank you, Seungcheol. I knew I could count on you."
As they made their way back to the castle, the tension between them was palpable. Seungcheol couldn't help but steal glances at Y/N, admiring the way the moonlight illuminated her face and the determination in her eyes.
But he knew that any romantic feelings he had for her were futile. Their positions made any kind of relationship impossible, and he couldn't let his personal feelings interfere with the task at hand.
As they reached the castle gates, Seungcheol turned to Y/N. "I will help you with your plan, Princess. But we must be careful. We cannot let anyone find out about this."
Y/N nodded, a determined look on her face. "I understand, Seungcheol. We will be careful."
And with that, they parted ways, both with a newfound sense of purpose and determination to save their kingdom from the brink of war.
Seungcheol couldn't shake the feeling of unease as he made his way back to his quarters. The proposal for a treaty was a promising idea, but the risks were too high. If they were caught, they would be accused of treason and the consequences would be dire.
He knew that the head knight of Roseate, Seokmin, was fiercely loyal to Minghao and would do anything to protect him. The thought of facing him in battle made Seungcheol's heart race with anxiety. But he had made a promise to Y/N, and he intended to keep it.
As he entered his quarters, he was greeted by his second-in-command, San, who was waiting for him.
"Sir, there's something you need to see," San said, his voice urgent.
Seungcheol furrowed his brows in confusion as San handed him a parchment. It was a letter from the head knight of Roseate, Seokmin, demanding a meeting with Seungcheol to discuss the recent tensions between their kingdoms.
Seungcheol's heart sank. He knew that this was a trap, but he couldn't refuse the meeting without raising suspicion.
"Prepare the horses," Seungcheol said, his voice steady. "We leave at dawn."
As San left to make the preparations, Seungcheol sat down at his desk and took a deep breath. He had to think of a plan, and fast. He couldn't let his guard down for a moment, not with the safety of his kingdom on the line.
But as he looked at the letter in his hands, he couldn't help but think of Y/N. He knew that if he was caught, she would be implicated too. He couldn't bear the thought of her being punished for trying to save their kingdom.
Seungcheol shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He had to focus on the task at hand. The meeting with Seokmin would be the first step in a dangerous game, and he had to be prepared for anything.
As he retired for the night, Seungcheol couldn't help but think of Y/N's determined gaze, and he knew that he would do whatever it took to protect her and their kingdom.
The next morning, Seungcheol and his men set out on horseback towards the border of Roseate. The tension in the air was palpable as they rode in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
As they approached the border, Seungcheol spotted a group of Roseate soldiers waiting for them. Among them was Seokmin, the head knight of Roseate, his expression unreadable.
"Welcome, Head Knight Seungcheol," Seokmin said, his voice formal.
Seungcheol dismounted from his horse and approached Seokmin, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He could feel the eyes of his men on him, and he knew that any misstep could mean their downfall.
"We come in peace," Seungcheol said, his voice calm but firm. "We are here to discuss the recent tensions between our kingdoms."
Seokmin nodded, his eyes flickering to Seungcheol's hand on his sword. "Of course. Please, follow me."
Seungcheol and his men followed Seokmin across the border and towards the Roseate castle. Seungcheol couldn't help but feel uneasy as they entered the castle gates. He knew that they were walking into a trap, but he had no choice but to trust in his abilities as a knight.
As they entered the castle, Seungcheol was struck by the opulence of the decor. The walls were lined with tapestries depicting scenes of battle and conquest, and the floors were made of polished marble. It was a stark contrast to the more modest surroundings of the Nephele castle. Seokmin led them to a large chamber, where Minghao was waiting for them. Seungcheol's heart raced as he saw the prince, his eyes cold and calculating.
"Greetings, Head Knight Seungcheol," Minghao said, his voice laced with malice. "I trust your journey was uneventful."
Seungcheol bowed his head respectfully. "It was, Your Highness. We are here to discuss a treaty between our kingdoms."
Minghao sneered, his posture stiffening as his fists clenched. "A treaty? I have no interest in making peace with your kingdom. You are nothing but traitors and rebels."
Seungcheol gritted his teeth, his hand twitching towards his sword. He knew that he had to keep his composure, but the insults stung.
"We come in good faith, Your Highness," Seungcheol said, his voice steady. "Surely there must be a way to resolve our differences without bloodshed."
Minghao's expression softened slightly, but his eyes remained cold. "Very well. I will hear you out. But make no mistake, Head Knight Seungcheol. If I find any evidence of treachery, I will not hesitate to execute you and your men."
Seungcheol nodded, his heart heavy with the weight of their perilous situation. He knew that they were walking a tightrope, and one misstep could mean the end of everything. But he also knew that he had to keep fighting, no matter the odds. For the sake of his kingdom, and for the sake of Y/N.
Seungcheol took a deep breath and began to lay out his proposal for a treaty between Nephele and Roseate. He spoke eloquently, carefully choosing his words to avoid any offence to Minghao's pride.
As he spoke, he could feel the tension in the room slowly dissipating. Minghao listened intently, his eyes narrowing in thought.
When Seungcheol finished, Minghao leaned back in his chair, a frown on his face. "Your proposal is… interesting, Head Knight Seungcheol. But I cannot make any decisions without consulting my advisors first."
Seungcheol nodded. "Of course, Your Highness. We understand that this is a delicate matter."
Minghao stood up, signalling the end of the meeting. "You and your men are welcome to stay in our castle for the night. We will discuss this further tomorrow."
Seungcheol bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Your Highness. We appreciate your hospitality."
As they were led to their quarters, Seungcheol couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Minghao's sudden change of heart was unexpected, and Seungcheol knew that he had to remain vigilant.
He turned to his men, his expression serious. "We cannot let our guard down. Keep your weapons close, and be prepared for anything."
The night passed uneventfully, but Seungcheol slept with one eye open, his hand resting on his sword. He knew that they were in enemy territory, and he couldn't afford to let his guard down.
The next morning, Seungcheol and his men were summoned to the throne room once again. Minghao sat on his throne, flanked by his advisors.
"I have consulted with my advisors," Minghao said, his voice cold. "And we have decided that we cannot agree to your proposal, Head Knight Seungcheol. Our kingdoms are too different, and our interests are too divergent."
Seungcheol felt a sense of disappointment wash over him, but he kept his expression neutral. "I understand, Your Highness. We will take our leave and return to Nephele."
Minghao nodded. "Good. You are free to go. But remember, Head Knight Seungcheol. Any further attempts to cross our borders will be met with force."
Seungcheol bowed respectfully, then turned and left the throne room with his men. As they rode back to Nephele, Seungcheol couldn't help but feel a sense of defeat. But he also knew that he couldn't give up. He would find a way to save his kingdom, no matter the cost.
As the days passed, Seungcheol and his men returned to their routine duties of protecting the kingdom of Nephele. Seungcheol kept himself busy, throwing himself into his work and trying to forget the disappointment of the failed treaty with Roseate. But he couldn't help but feel a sense of restlessness, a nagging feeling that there was something he was missing.
Meanwhile, Princess Y/N spent most of her days confined to the castle walls, longing for adventure and excitement. She often watched the knights as they trained, admiring their skill and bravery. She had always been fascinated by Seungcheol, the Head Knight of Nephele. He was chivalrous and focused, always putting the needs of the kingdom before his own. But she also knew that he was off-limits, as a knight was not allowed to fraternize with royalty.
Even though Seungcheol and Y/N had known each other for years, they remained oblivious to the growing attraction between them. Seungcheol respected Y/N as a princess, and Y/N admired Seungcheol from afar, too afraid to act on her feelings.
One day, as Seungcheol was walking through the castle courtyard, he heard a sound that made his heart skip a beat. It was the sound of Y/N's laughter, tinkling like bells in the air. He turned to see her sitting on a bench, surrounded by a group of young girls. She was smiling and laughing, her eyes sparkling with joy.
Seungcheol couldn't help but be drawn to her. He walked over to her, his heart beating faster with each step. "Princess Y/N," he said, bowing respectfully. "Is everything alright?"
Y/N looked up at him, her smile fading slightly. "Oh, Head Knight Seungcheol. Yes, everything is fine. I was just enjoying the company of these girls here." Y/N spoke, lightly pinching one of the girl's cheeks as she broke eye contact with Seungcheol.
Seungcheol nodded, then hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Princess, I was wondering… would you care to take a walk with me? The gardens are beautiful this time of year."
Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly composed herself. "Of course, Head Knight. I would be honoured."
Seungcheol and Y/N walked through the lush gardens, the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers wafting in the air. The trees swayed gently in the breeze, casting dappled shadows on the path.
"So, how have you been, Princess?" Seungcheol asked, trying to break the comfortable silence that had fallen between them. "I have been well, Head Knight. Thank you for asking," Y/N replied, smiling at him.
"I noticed that you seem to enjoy spending time with the young girls of the court," Seungcheol remarked.
Y/N nodded. "Yes, they are such a joy to be around. It is refreshing to be around their innocence and exuberance."
Seungcheol smiled. "I can see why. Their energy is infectious." They walked in silence for a few more moments, enjoying the peacefulness of the gardens. Seungcheol couldn't help but notice how beautiful Y/N looked in the soft glow of the setting sun.
"Princess, I must apologize for the failed treaty with Roseate," Seungcheol said, breaking the silence once again. "I know how important it was to you and your family."
Y/N sighed. "It is not your fault, Head Knight. Minghao is a stubborn and prideful prince. He would not listen to reason."
Seungcheol nodded in agreement. "I will do everything in my power to protect Nephele, Princess. You have my word."
Y/N smiled at him. "Thank you, Head Knight. I have always admired your dedication to our kingdom."
Seungcheol's heart skipped a beat at her words. He had always admired Y/N for her kindness and intelligence, but he never thought that she would admire him in return.
"I hope you don't mind me asking, Princess, but what do you enjoy doing in your free time?" Seungcheol asked, trying to start a conversation.
Y/N smiled. "Not at all, Head Knight. I enjoy reading and spending time with my family and friends. What about you?"
Seungcheol thought for a moment. "I like to train, of course, but in my free time, I enjoy playing chess and writing poetry."
"Poetry?" Y/N raised an eyebrow. "I didn't expect that from the Head Knight of Nephele."
Seungcheol chuckled. "Yes, well, I find it a good way to unwind after a long day."
Y/N nodded, impressed. "That's very interesting. I would love to read some of your work someday."
Seungcheol smiled. "I would be honoured to share it with you, Princess." As they continued walking, the conversation turned more personal.
"Can I ask you something, Head Knight?" Y/N asked, her voice soft.
"Of course, Princess," Seungcheol replied, his tone respectful.
"What are your hopes and dreams for the future?" Y/N asked, her eyes searching his.
Seungcheol's expression softened. "I hope to see Nephele prosper and flourish, to see our people happy and safe. As for my personal dreams, I…I hope to find someone to share my life with. Someone who understands me and supports me, through thick and thin."
Y/N looked at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn't believe how much she was starting to feel for the Head Knight of Nephele.
"And what about you, Princess?" Seungcheol asked, turning the question back on her.
Y/N blushed. "Well, I…I dream of exploring the world, seeing new places and meeting new people. But mostly, I dream of finding true love. Someone who sees me for who I am, and loves me just the same."
Seungcheol's heart skipped a beat at her words. He couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, he could be that person for her.
But he knew that he had to be careful. As the Head Knight of Nephele, he had a duty to protect the kingdom and its people. He couldn't let his feelings for the Princess distract him from his responsibilities.
As they reached the end of the garden path, Seungcheol turned to face Y/N. "Thank you for taking the time to talk with me, Princess. It was a pleasant distraction from the usual duties of the day."
Y/N smiled. "The pleasure was mine, Head Knight. I enjoyed getting to know you better."
As they parted ways, Seungcheol couldn't shake the feeling that there was something between them. Something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He tried to push the thought from his mind, reminding himself of his duty to Nephele.
But Y/N couldn't stop thinking about their conversation. There was something about Seungcheol that drew her in. His strength, his courage, and his dedication to the kingdom were all admirable traits. But there was something else, something that she couldn't quite explain. She found herself wanting to spend more time with him, to learn more about him.
As days passed, Y/N and Seungcheol found themselves having more small encounters. Sometimes it was a passing smile in the hallway, other times it was a brief conversation over a shared meal. Each time they spoke, Y/N felt herself drawn to Seungcheol more and more, despite her attempts to keep her feelings hidden.
One afternoon, Y/N was sitting in the garden, reading a book when she heard footsteps approaching. Looking up, she saw Seungcheol walking towards her, a small smile on his face.
"May I join you, Princess?" Seungcheol asked, gesturing to the empty bench beside her.
Y/N nodded, feeling her heart race as Seungcheol sat down beside her. They sat in silence for a few moments, Y/N feeling nervous and unsure of what to say.
"Is that a book of poetry?" Seungcheol asked, gesturing to the book in her lap.
Y/N nodded, trying to hide the fact that she'd been caught trying to educate herself on one of Seungcheol's hobbies. "Yes, it's a collection by a local poet. I find their work very beautiful and inspiring."
Seungcheol smiled. "I couldn't agree more. Poetry has a way of capturing the essence of life in a way that nothing else can."
As they sat there, feeling serene amongst the floral atmosphere Y/N asked Seungcheol about his childhood. At first, Seungcheol hesitated, unsure if he should reveal too much of his past. But something in Y/N's gentle gaze and earnest expression made him feel safe.
"I was born to a poor family in the outskirts of Nephele," Seungcheol began, his voice low and hesitant. "My parents were farmers, and we had very little. But they always taught me the importance of hard work and integrity, and I knew that I wanted to make something of myself."
Y/N listened intently, her eyes never leaving Seungcheol's face. "What made you want to become a knight?"
Seungcheol smiled. "I always admired the knights of Nephele, with their bravery and honour. When I was old enough, I applied to become a squire, and worked my way up the ranks until I became head knight."
Y/N nodded, impressed. "You must have worked very hard to get where you are now."
Seungcheol nodded, his gaze meeting hers. "I did. But it was worth it, to be able to protect my kingdom and those I care about."
Y/N smiled at him, feeling a sense of warmth and admiration for the man beside her. "You're a true hero, Seungcheol."
Seungcheol felt his heart swell at Y/N's words, and he couldn't help but feel a growing attraction to her. He wanted to tell her how he felt, but he knew any relationship between them was forbidden. Even their brief encounters would be a topic of discussion in court. It was too risky, this was too risky.
As the sun began to set, Seungcheol and Y/N walked back to the castle, their conversation turning to lighter topics. But even as they laughed and joked with each other, they couldn't help but feel the growing tension between them. They both knew that their feelings for each other were dangerous, but they couldn't deny the attraction that burned between them.
As they walked through the castle corridors, Y/N couldn't help but feel restless. She had spent most of her life cooped up in the castle walls, and she longed for adventure and freedom. She had always felt confined by her duties as a princess, and she yearned for a life outside of the castle. Seungcheol noticed Y/N's restlessness, and he couldn't help but ask, "Is everything alright, Y/N?"
Y/N paused, unsure if she should reveal her deepest desires to Seungcheol. But something in his warm gaze made her feel safe, and she decided to confide in him. "I feel…trapped, Seungcheol," she admitted. "I want to explore the world, to see new places and meet new people. But as a princess, my duty is to stay within the castle walls and fulfil my obligations."
Seungcheol listened intently, his expression sympathetic. "I understand how you feel, Y/N," he said. "But as a knight, my duty is to protect the kingdom and its people. Sometimes, we have to sacrifice our own desires for the greater good."
Y/N nodded, understanding the weight of Seungcheol's words. "I know," she said. "But sometimes, I just wish I could be free."
Seungcheol smiled softly, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Perhaps one day, you will be," he said. "But for now, know that I will always be here to protect you and keep you safe."
Y/N smiled at Seungcheol, feeling grateful for his words. As they continued to walk through the castle, Y/N couldn't help but feel a growing attraction to the kind and protective head knight. But she knew that their growing feelings were forbidden, and she pushed her feelings aside. For now, she would focus on her duties as a princess and trust that Seungcheol would always be by her side.
But still, no matter how hard she forced her feelings down, trapping them in the back of her mind, she couldn't help but wonder. What would life with Seuncheol be like? With no duties, no nothing. Just him, and her, together.
As days went by, Y/N and Seungcheol's friendship grew stronger. They would often steal small moments together, sharing their dreams and fears with each other. Seungcheol found himself drawn to Y/N's free-spirited nature and her kind heart, and Y/N was enamoured by Seungcheol's unwavering dedication to his duty and his bravery.
One afternoon, Y/N was sitting by the castle gardens, reading a book, when Seungcheol appeared before her. "May I join you, Y/N?" he asked, smiling.
Y/N smiled back, gesturing for him to sit next to her. "Of course, Seungcheol," she said, patting the spot next to her.
As they sat together, Seungcheol couldn't help but notice the way Y/N's hair danced in the gentle breeze. "Y/N, can I ask you something?" he said, breaking the peaceful silence.
Y/N turned to him, curious. "Of course," she replied.
Seungcheol hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Do you ever think about…us?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N's heart skipped a beat at Seungcheol's words. "What do you mean?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
Seungcheol turned to her, his expression serious. "I mean…do you ever feel…something for me?" he said, his eyes searching hers, his hands unclenching and clenching as he struggled to conceal his nerves.
Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, and she looked down at her lap. "Seungcheol, you know we can't," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Seungcheol took her hand in his, squeezing it gently, causing Y/N to look up at him. "I know, Y/N," he said. "But…I can't help how I feel. And I have to know if you feel the same way."
Y/N felt torn between her duty as a princess and her growing feelings for Seungcheol. She took a deep breath before speaking. "Seungcheol…I do feel something for you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Seungcheol's face lit up with a smile, and he leaned in, placing a soft, lingering kiss on her cheek. "I'm glad," he said. "We'll figure something out, Y/N. I promise."
But despite Seungcheol's words, he couldn't help but feel conflicted. He knew that as the head knight, his duty was to protect the kingdom, and that meant putting his own feelings aside. He couldn't risk jeopardizing Y/N's safety, or his own reputation and honour as a knight.
The next day, as they walked through the castle halls, Y/N noticed that Seungcheol seemed distant. "Seungcheol, is everything alright?" she asked, concern etched on her face.
Seungcheol stopped in his tracks, turning to face her. "Y/N, I need to talk to you," he said, his voice serious.
Y/N felt a knot form in her stomach, fearing the worst. "What is it, Seungcheol?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Seungcheol took a deep breath before continuing. "Y/N, I think it's best if we…if we stop seeing each other," he said, his eyes downcast.
Y/N felt her heart shatter into a million pieces at Seungcheol's words. "What? Why? Just yesterday we were happy together, what changed in such a short span of time?" she asked, tears forming in her eyes as she tripped over her own words.
Seungcheol turned to her, his expression pained as he tortured himself with the thought of parting with her. "It's for the best, Y/N," he said. "We can't let our feelings get in the way of our duty to the kingdom."
Y/N shook her head, tears streaming down her face, which she didn't attempt to wipe away, instead staring at him with her emotions raw and desperation apparent within her glassy eyes. "I can't do that, Seungcheol," she said, her voice shaking. "I can't just ignore how I feel about you."
Seungcheol took her hand in his, squeezing it tightly as he looked into her eyes as if he didn't really want to say goodbye, his hands revealing his true status. "I know, Y/N," he said. "But we have to try. For the kingdom."
Y/N nodded, feeling her heart heavy with sadness. She knew that Seungcheol was right, but that didn't make it any easier. They hugged each other tightly, trying to hold on to the small moments they shared together.
As the days passed, Y/N and Seungcheol tried their best to suppress their growing feelings for each other. They avoided spending time alone together, and their conversations became more formal and distant.
Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of longing every time she saw Seungcheol. She missed the way he would smile at her, the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about his dreams, and the warmth of his embrace.
Seungcheol, too, found it difficult to deny his feelings for Y/N. He missed the sound of her laughter, the way she would tilt her head when she listened to him talk, and the softness of her touch.
But they both knew that their duty to the kingdom came first. They couldn't afford to let their personal desires cloud their judgment, especially with the tension rising between Nephele and Roseate.
One evening, as Y/N was walking through the castle gardens, she heard the sound of someone playing the lute. She followed the sound until she came across Seungcheol sitting by a fountain, strumming the instrument.
"Seungcheol, you play the lute?" she asked, surprised, as she approached him with hesitance, still unsure of where their relationship lay.
Seungcheol smiled, setting the lute aside. "Yes, I've been playing since I was a child," he said.
Y/N sat down next to him, his thigh brushing hers, feeling a sense of peace as she listened to the music. "It's beautiful," she said softly, her eyes slowly trailing up from where his fingers strummed onto the instrument, and up towards his eyes.
Seungcheol looked at her, his eyes softening as he fought through the heavy fog in his mind urging him to stop. "You're beautiful," he said before he could stop himself.
Y/N felt her heart skip a beat at his words. She looked at him, seeing the conflict in his eyes. "Seungcheol, I know this is difficult," she said. "But I can't ignore how I feel about you."
Seungcheol sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Y/N, I…I feel the same way," he admitted. "But we can't act on our feelings. It's too risky." Y/N nodded, feeling a sense of disappointment wash over her. "I understand," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Seungcheol took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "But that doesn't mean we can't be friends," he said, a small smile forming on his lips.
Y/N smiled back, feeling a sense of relief. "I'd like that," she said.
As they sat there together, listening to the sound of the lute and the gentle trickle of the fountain, Y/N and Seungcheol realized that their feelings for each other wouldn't go away easily. But for now, they would try to be content with the small moments they shared and hope that someday, they could be together without any obstacles in their way.
Seungcheol felt a strange sensation inside his chest, a feeling he couldn't quite describe. He had never felt this way before, not even with the other women he had courted in the past. He couldn't deny that he was attracted to y/n, but he couldn't act on those feelings. It was forbidden for a knight to pursue a princess.
He took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. "I think it's best if we get back to the castle now, Princess," he said, breaking the silence. Y/n nodded, not daring to meet his gaze. She was equally confused by the feelings that had arisen between them, but she knew better than to act on them. She was a princess, and he was a knight sworn to protect her and her kingdom. "Please, let me escort you back to your room, Princess."
They walked back to the castle in silence, lost in their own thoughts. When they arrived, they bid each other goodnight, and Seungcheol watched as y/n disappeared into the castle's corridors.
He couldn't stop thinking about her, about the way her eyes had sparkled in the moonlight, about the sound of her laughter. He knew he shouldn't feel this way, but he couldn't help it. He had to keep his feelings in check, for the sake of his duty and his honour.
Little did he know, y/n was struggling with the same feelings. As she lay in bed that night, she couldn't stop thinking about Seungcheol. She couldn't deny the way her heart had raced when he had touched her hand, the way she had felt safe and protected in his presence.
But she knew it was futile to pursue those feelings. She was a princess, and he was a knight. Their love was forbidden, and they could never act on it.
And so, they both lay in their separate chambers, their hearts heavy with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires. The tension between the kingdoms of Nephele and Roseate continued to rise, and the future of their love seemed bleak.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. The tension between Nephele and Roseate continued to escalate, with rumours of a possible war spreading throughout the kingdom.
Seungcheol and y/n tried their best to keep their distance, to ignore the feelings that had grown between them. But it was becoming harder and harder with each passing day.
One evening, Seungcheol was on patrol duty when he heard a noise coming from the castle walls. He immediately went to investigate, and to his surprise, he found y/n climbing down the wall, her hair blowing in the wind.
"Princess, what are you doing? You know, we need to stop meeting like this," he asked, his voice filled with concern.
"I couldn't sleep," she said softly, her eyes downcast. "I needed to clear my head."
Seungcheol couldn't deny the admiration he felt for y/n. Despite the danger, she had climbed down the walls of the castle all by herself, determined to escape the confines of her room. He couldn't help but feel drawn to her spirit, her determination to be free.
"Come with me," he said, extending his hand. "I know a place where we can watch the stars without any distractions."
Y/n hesitated for a moment before taking his hand, and together they walked to a secluded garden, hidden behind the castle walls. The stars shone brightly overhead, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers.
They sat down on a bench, and Seungcheol couldn't help but steal glances at y/n. He admired the way she looked up at the stars, the way her eyes sparkled with wonder.
"Princess, can I ask you something?" he said, breaking the silence. "Of course," she said, turning to face him.
"Why did you climb down the walls?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I… I needed to escape," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't stand being trapped in the castle all the time. I want to be free, to explore the world outside these walls."
Seungcheol felt a pang in his heart. He knew all too well the feeling of being trapped, of not being able to pursue one's dreams.
"I understand," he said softly. "I feel the same way sometimes. But we have duties to our kingdom, to our people."
"I know," y/n said, her voice laced with sadness as her head slowly gravitated to lay on Seuncheols shoulder, seeming to have forgotten their prior agreement of friendship. "But sometimes… sometimes I wish I could just run away, to leave all of this behind."
Seungcheol's heart ached for y/n. He knew how hard it was to be trapped in one's duties, to not be able to pursue one's desires. He wanted nothing more than to hold her close, to comfort her and tell her that everything would be alright. But for now, he had to settle with running his fingers through her soft locks of hair, relishing in the feeling of closeness between the two.
He knew he couldn't go any farther than that. Their love was forbidden, and he had to keep his feelings in check, no matter how much his heart ached each time they parted and how they felt so right yet simultaneously being wrong together.
And so, they sat in silence, watching the stars above, lost in their own thoughts and desires. The tension between their kingdoms continued to rise, and their love remained forbidden.
Y/n smiled at Seungcheol's gesture, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "Thank you, Seungcheol," she said softly, "you always know how to make me feel better."
Seungcheol chuckled, "I try my best, princess." He paused for a moment before speaking again, "I must admit, it feels nice to be able to speak to someone openly like this. I've never really had anyone to confide in before."
Y/n's expression softened, "I'm glad I can be that person for you, Seungcheol."
Their eyes met, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The air was thick with unspoken feelings, and Y/n's heart raced in her chest.
Seungcheol cleared his throat and broke the moment, "Anyway, we should probably head back to the castle now. It's getting late."
Y/n nodded, feeling a bit disappointed that the moment had passed. They made their way back to the castle, walking side by side in comfortable silence.
As they reached the entrance, Seungcheol turned to Y/n, "I'll see you tomorrow, princess."
Y/n smiled softly, "Goodnight, Seungcheol."
As she walked away, Y/n couldn't help but think about the feelings that had been stirring inside of her since she had met Seungcheol. She knew that they were both of different stations and that any romantic feelings between them would be forbidden. Yet, she couldn't help but feel drawn to him in a way that she had never felt before.
Seungcheol, on the other hand, was feeling equally conflicted. He knew that he had a duty to protect Y/n and the kingdom of Nephele and that any romantic feelings between them would only complicate things. But, he couldn't deny the pull that he felt towards her, and the desire to be close to her.
As they both retired to their respective chambers, they couldn't help but think about each other and the unspoken feelings that hung between them.
The next few days passed in a blur, with Y/n and Seungcheol going about their respective duties as usual. However, there was a palpable tension between them, as if they were both acutely aware of the feelings that they were trying to suppress.
One afternoon, Seungcheol found himself on the training grounds, honing his skills with a sword. As he went through the motions, his mind kept wandering to thoughts of Y/n and the way that she had opened up to him the other day. He couldn't help but wonder if there was something more between them.
Suddenly, he was interrupted by a voice, "You seem to be deep in thought, Seungcheol."
Seungcheol turned to see Jeonghan, Y/n's older brother, standing a few feet away. Seungcheol had always found Jeonghan to be snarky and teasing, and he couldn't help but feel a bit on edge around him.
"I was just practising," Seungcheol said, sheathing his sword.
Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, "Is that what they're calling it these days?"
Seungcheol's jaw tensed, "What do you want, Jeonghan?"
Jeonghan smirked, "Just wanted to make sure you're keeping your hands to yourself when it comes to my sister."
Seungcheol bristled at the implication, "I assure you, my intentions towards the princess are purely honourable."
Jeonghan's smirk grew wider, "I'm sure they are. But just remember, Seungcheol, I'll be keeping a close eye on you. You know what a relationship between a knight and a princess will bring. You'll ruin her."
With that, Jeonghan turned and walked away, leaving Seungcheol feeling uneasy. He knew that Jeonghan had always been overprotective of Y/n, but something about his words felt like a warning.
Meanwhile, Y/n was sitting in the castle gardens, lost in thought. She had been feeling more and more suffocated by her duties as a princess, and the idea of being confined to the castle walls was starting to feel unbearable.
As she sat there, lost in thought, she was interrupted by a voice, "Princess, are you alright?"
Y/n looked up to see Seungcheol standing in front of her, concern etched on his face.
"I'm fine, Seungcheol," Y/n said, forcing a smile.
Seungcheol didn't look convinced, "Are you sure? You seem…distracted."
Y/n sighed, "I don't know, Seungcheol. I just feel so…trapped, sometimes. Like I'm not really living, you know?"
Seungcheol nodded, "I know what you mean. Sometimes it feels like our duties and responsibilities are all that define us."
Y/n looked up at him, feeling a sense of understanding between them. "Do you ever feel like…you want something more?" she asked, hesitantly.
Seungcheol's eyes met hers, and for a moment, they were both lost in thought. Finally, Seungcheol spoke, "I do. But sometimes, wanting more can be dangerous."
Y/n felt a twinge of disappointment in her chest, knowing that he was referring to their growing feelings for each other. But she also knew that he was right. Any sort of relationship between them would be forbidden and could put both of them in danger.
Seungcheol could feel his heart racing in his chest, and he knew that he was in trouble. He had never felt this way before, and he didn't know how to handle it. He was the head knight, and he had a duty to the kingdom of Nephele. He couldn't let his feelings for the princess get in the way of his duty.
But at the same time, he couldn't deny the way he felt about her. She was different from anyone he had ever met, and he found himself wanting to spend more and more time with her.
As they walked back to the castle, Seungcheol struggled to keep his emotions in check. He knew that he had to put some distance between himself and the princess, but he didn't want to hurt her in the process.
"Princess," he said, finally breaking the silence between them. "I think it would be best if we kept our distance from each other for a while."
Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with confusion and hurt. "What do you mean? We've been through this before Seungcheol. Separating us from each other doesn't help, it just brings more pain." she asked.
"I mean that I don't think it's appropriate for us to spend so much time together," Seungcheol replied, his voice firm but gentle. "I have a duty to the kingdom of Nephele, and I can't let my personal feelings get in the way of that."
Y/N's face fell, and Seungcheol felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He didn't want to hurt her, but he knew that he had to do what was best for the kingdom.
"I understand," she said softly. "I'll…I'll see you later then."
As Y/N stood up to leave, Seungcheol gently grabbed her wrist. "Wait," he said softly, his eyes searching hers. "I may not be able to act on my feelings for you, but I can't deny that they exist. I care about you deeply, Y/N. More than I should."
Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she looked into Seungcheol's eyes, seeing the raw emotion there. She swallowed hard, feeling her own emotions rise to the surface. "I care about you too, Seungcheol," she said quietly. "But I understand that duty comes first. I won't ask you to choose."
Seungcheol's grip on her wrist tightened slightly. "I wish it were that simple," he said, his voice low. "But the truth is, I don't know how long I can hold back my feelings for you."
Y/N's heart fluttered at his words, and she felt a glimmer of hope. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I mean that every time I see you, every time we talk, my feelings for you grow stronger," Seungcheol admitted, his voice full of emotion. "I can't keep denying them forever."
Y/N felt her own feelings intensify at his words, but she knew that the situation was complicated. "What can we do, then?" she asked, her voice filled with uncertainty.
Seungcheol looked away, his gaze fixed on the ground. "I don't know," he said, his voice barely audible. "But for now, we must keep our feelings hidden. It's the only way to protect ourselves and the kingdom."
Y/N nodded, understanding the weight of his words. "I will keep my feelings hidden, Seungcheol," she said softly. "But know that they exist and that I care about you deeply."
Seungcheol gave her a small, sad smile. "I know, Y/N," he said. "And I care about you too."
Seungcheol let out a deep sigh, his heart feeling heavy with the weight of their conversation. He knew that what he was feeling for Y/n was more than just a simple admiration or friendship, but he couldn't bear to admit it to himself.
As they approached the castle gates, Seungcheol cleared his throat and turned to Y/n. "I… I must take my leave now, Princess. Duty calls," he said, his voice betraying the turmoil in his heart.
Y/n nodded, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and understanding. "Of course, Head Knight. I will see you soon."
Seungcheol gave her a small smile before turning to leave, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions he couldn't quite grasp. As he made his way back to the barracks, he couldn't help but replay their conversation in his mind, the words and emotions haunting him.
Days passed and Seungcheol found himself more and more drawn to Y/n, despite his best efforts to distance himself. He found excuses to be near her, to speak with her, and to bask in the warmth of her company. He was helpless to resist her charms and found himself falling deeper and deeper into a love he couldn't deny.
However, the tension between the Kingdoms of Nephele and Roseate continued to grow, and Seungcheol's duties as Head Knight demanded more of his attention. Minghao's actions only seemed to stoke the flames of conflict, and it was becoming increasingly clear that war was on the horizon.
As Seungcheol trained his knights and prepared for the worst, he couldn't help but think of Y/n and how he longed to protect her from the impending danger. He knew that their love was forbidden, but he couldn't help but hope that somehow, they could find a way to be together.
Little did he know, Y/n felt the same way. She yearned for the freedom to love whomever she wished, and Seungcheol had captured her heart in a way she never thought possible. As the kingdom braced for war, their feelings would be put to the ultimate test.
As the days passed, tensions between Nephele and Roseate continued to rise. Minghao's strict laws and harsh taxes were causing unrest among the people of Roseate, and rumours of rebellion began to spread.
Seungcheol and his fellow knights were constantly on high alert, ready to defend their kingdom if Roseate decided to attack. But even with their swords and shields at the ready, Seungcheol couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in his stomach.
One night, Seungcheol was patrolling the castle walls when he heard footsteps approaching. He turned to see Princess Y/N walking towards him.
"Is everything alright, Your Highness?" Seungcheol asked concern etched on his face.
"I couldn't sleep," Y/N admitted, her voice soft. "The tension between our kingdoms is weighing heavily on my mind."
Seungcheol nodded, understanding. "It's understandable to feel that way. But rest assured, we will do everything in our power to protect Nephele."
Y/N smiled faintly, but there was a sadness in her eyes that Seungcheol couldn't ignore. "I just wish there was another way. I don't want to see more bloodshed or lose any more lives."
Seungcheol took a step closer to Y/N, his hand reaching out to gently touch her arm. "I know," he said softly. "I wish for the same thing. But sometimes, in order to protect what we love, we must make difficult choices."
Y/N's eyes met Seungcheol's, and in that moment, Seungcheol could feel the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging between them. He quickly withdrew his hand, stepping back.
"Your Highness, it's getting late," Seungcheol said, his voice slightly strained. "You should return to your chambers and rest."
Y/N nodded, turning to leave. But before she did, she looked back at Seungcheol. "Thank you, Seungcheol. For always being there for me."
Seungcheol watched her go, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he could never have her. Not while tensions between their kingdoms ran so high.
Despite the tensions between the kingdoms, life in Nephele continued as usual. Seungcheol continued to train and lead his knights, while Y/N remained confined to the castle walls, longing for a chance to explore the world outside.
One day, news arrived that Minghao, the prince of Roseate, had made a bold move, one that could be interpreted as a threat to Nephele. It was rumoured that he had sent a letter to the king of Nephele, demanding that he submit to Roseate's rule or face the consequences. The tension between the two kingdoms reached new heights, and everyone in Nephele was on edge.
Seungcheol spent countless nights strategizing with his fellow knights, determined to protect his kingdom at all costs. Meanwhile, Y/N grew increasingly restless, tired of being kept in the dark about everything that was going on.
One day, while wandering the castle gardens, Y/N stumbled upon Seungcheol. He was standing by the fountain, deep in thought. She approached him, hoping for some answers.
"Seungcheol," she said softly. "What's going to happen to Nephele? Will we be safe?"
Seungcheol turned to face her, his eyes filled with concern. "I can't say for certain, Y/N," he said. "But I promise you, I will do everything in my power to protect this kingdom. That's what I was trained to do, and I take that duty very seriously."
Y/N nodded, feeling comforted by his words. She took a step closer to him, and Seungcheol could feel the warmth radiating from her body. He couldn't help but feel drawn to her, even though he knew it was forbidden.
As if sensing his inner turmoil, Y/N reached out and placed a hand on his arm. "Seungcheol, I know we come from different worlds," she said. "But I feel like we have a connection, something special. Don't you feel it too?"
Seungcheol froze, unsure of what to say. He knew he couldn't deny the feelings he had for her any longer, but he also knew that pursuing a relationship with her would be dangerous, both for him and for Nephele.
"I do feel it, Y/N," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N's heart skipped a beat at Seungcheol's words, and she knew then that she felt the same way. Without a word, she leaned in and kissed him. The kiss was hesitant at first, but soon turned passionate as they let go of their reservations.
Their tongues danced passionately in chorus with each other as Y/N's hand clutched desperately onto Seungcheols shirt, fisting it as if she was scared to be separated from him. Seungcheol brought his hand up, placing it onto her jaw and angling her head up to give him better access to her plush lips, using his spare hand as support for the back of y/n's head.
As they separated, their foreheads joint and their heartbeats each beating in a hurry, they stared into each other's eyes, a silent conversation occurred as they explored the colours and emotions evident in each of their irises.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Princess?" Seungcheol spoke, his voice wavering with desperation as he slowly massaged the back of her head and looked deeply at her. Once he felt her nod against him, he guided them through the walls of the castle, using his knight training to avoid passersby as he led them into Y/N's private chambers.
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Seungcheol made work of untying the layers making up Y/Ns blush pink gown, carefully untying the ribbons as he pressed delicate kisses against her collarbone, relishing in the breathless gasps she would release. Y/N gasps loudly and brings her arms to wrap around his neck as Seungcheol lifts her up from the backs of her thighs.
Without struggle, Seungcheol walks them towards her bed, carefully laying her down so her back rests on the mattress, but still not letting his arms unwrap from around her, y/n doing the same, not wanting to separate from him.
Seungcheol trails his fingers towards the end of her undergarments, slowly tucking his fingers down to lift them up and off her, revealing her bare self to him. Seungcheol refrains himself from sighing in pleasure as he stares back into her eyes, feeling complete as he puts his mouth upon her, licking and sucking her most sensitive parts as she writhes above him.
Y/N's hands rested on his broad shoulder as he ravished her, clawing at the material of his shirt with shakey hands, silently signalling for him to take it off, wanting to see, and feel, more of him.
Seungcheol tore his shirt off, wanting to obey all of Y/N's wants and fulfil her needs. However, he didn't waste time as he went back to relishing in the sweet taste of her core, moaning and humming in pleasure as he slowed down his advances, instead, laying gently kisses over her core, not once breaking eye contact, "You like that, Princess? You like it when I bury my mouth onto your pretty pussy like this? Oh I know you do, you're practically leaking, aren't you, my pretty princess?"
"Yes, Cheol, oh yes. 'Makes me feel so good when you l-lick me!" Y/N mewled, in between pleased squeals and whimpers.
Seungcheol didn't hesitate to add a finger into the mix, curling it into a hook as he eased it inside of her, making a grabbing motion with his finger as he moved it inside her, relishing in the feeling of her squeezing around him, "S'not enough for you, is it, Princess? You want another finger, you can't get enough of me, right? Well, you have to ask for it, Princess. Tell me what you want?"
"Y-you, I want more of you, need more of you inside me. Give me more, Cheolie!" Y/N begged in between startled moans as her fingers dug into his shoulders, no doubt leaving scars behind in her wake.
Seungcheol follows as she commanded, chuckling lowly to himself at her desperation as he pumped another finger inside her whilst using his tongue to play with her clit, feeling himself harden at her moans.
"Why don't you taste yourself, princess?" Seunghceol urges as he brings his covered fingers up to her mouth, seeing her take them in and suck on them whilst looking into his eyes, "God, you're so perfect, princess, I need you right now, fuck, need to be inside of you."
Seungcheol stands up from his place on his knees, making work of escaping from his briefs to reveal himself, standing tall as the bright red tips released pre-cum that dripped down his veiny base. He grabbed her thighs, lifting them to wrap around his waist, leaving him to tease her entrance with his tip.
"You ready for me, Princess? Ready for me to make you completely mine?" Seungcheol asked, stroking her hair from her eyes, wanting to see all of her as he claimed her. His eyes softened momentarily as he breathed against her lips before pressing them to meet hers in a gentle kiss before he slowly plunged into her, moaning lowly as she squeezed him and gasped out his name, "Thats right, princess, say my name. I'm yours."
Their bodies entwined, and they moved together in a rhythm that was both passionate and gentle. Y/N's fingers dug into Seungcheol's back as she cried out his name, lost in the sensations that he was stirring within her.
Seungcheol was equally lost in the moment, his love for Y/N spurring him on to new heights of passion. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, his breath hot against her skin as he brought her to the brink of ecstasy.
As the night wore on, their movements became more frantic and their breaths more ragged. Seungcheol explored every inch of Y/N's body with his hands, his lips, and his tongue, leaving trails of fire in his wake. Y/N moaned and writhed beneath him, her fingers tangled in his hair as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.
Finally, with a gasp, she shattered into a million pieces, her body shaking with pleasure. Seungcheol held her tightly as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. He moved inside her slowly at first, savouring the feeling of her tightness around him, but soon his movements became more urgent.
Y/N met him thrust for thrust, arching her back and crying out his name as they moved together in perfect harmony. As they lay there afterwards, sweat-drenched and breathless, Seungcheol pulled Y/N into his arms and held her tightly, as if he never wanted to let her go. "I love you," he whispered into her hair, as Y/N slept from within his arms.
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The night was filled with whispered promises and moments of pure bliss. For a while, they forgot about the tensions between their kingdoms and the duties that awaited them. But as the morning light began to filter through the curtains, Seungcheol reluctantly pulled away from Y/N's embrace.
Seungcheol gazed at Y/N's face as they lay tangled in the sheets, her breathing slowly returning to normal. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for what he was planning to do next. But he knew it was for the best, for both of them.
Y/N stirred and turned to him, snuggling into his chest. "Seungcheol, promise me you'll come back to me," she whispered.
He brushed a lock of hair from her face and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "I promise, Y/N. I'll always come back to you."
But as he got dressed and prepared to leave, Seungcheol couldn't shake the feeling of dread in his chest. He knew that his plan was the only way to keep Y/N safe from his own feelings, but it didn't make it any easier to go through with it.
As he left Y/N's chambers, Seungcheol took one last look at her sleeping form and whispered, "Forgive me."
As Seungcheol made his way back to his quarters, he couldn't help but feel conflicted. He knew that he couldn't let his feelings for Y/N get in the way of his duty to Nephele. He needed to put his kingdom first, even if it meant hurting the woman he loved.
The next morning, Seungcheol woke up early, his mind already racing with plans. He needed to distance himself from Y/N, to make her hate him so that they could both move on. He couldn't let himself be distracted by his feelings any longer.
He dressed quickly, deliberately ignoring the marks Y/N had given him the night before. It was a painful reminder of what they could never have. As he made his way to the stables, Seungcheol came up with a silent plan to make Y/N hate him. He would be cold and distant, ignoring her every chance he got. It would hurt, but it was necessary.
As he mounted his horse and rode out to the front lines, Seungcheol couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness. He knew that what he was doing was necessary, but it didn't make it any less painful. He would bear the burden of his unrequited love in silence, sacrificing his own happiness for the good of his kingdom.
Little did he know, Y/N was sitting in her chambers, tears streaming down her face as she tried to come to terms with Seungcheol's departure. She couldn't help but wonder if she would ever see him again, or if their passionate night together was just a fleeting moment of happiness before their inevitable separation.
As he made his way to the courtyard, he noticed a group of soldiers gathered around a table, poring over maps and discussing strategy. Seungcheol strode over, his mind fully focused on the task at hand.
"We need to secure the northern border," he said, addressing the soldiers. "If Roseate decides to attack, that's where they'll come from."
The soldiers nodded in agreement, and Seungcheol continued to give orders, outlining a plan of attack. He was so focused on the task at hand that he didn't notice Jeonghan approaching.
"Seungcheol," Jeonghan said, his tone laced with contempt. "I didn't know you were the one in charge here. I thought that was the job of the King, not the head knight."
Seungcheol bristled at Jeonghan's tone, but he kept his voice even as he responded. "Your father is busy with other matters," he said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. "It falls to me to protect Nephele."
Jeonghan sneered. "Protecting Nephele? Is that what you call it? It seems to me like you're more interested in cosying up to my sister."
Seungcheol felt a surge of anger at Jeonghan's words, but he forced himself to stay calm. "You have no right to speak to me like that," he said through gritted teeth. "I am a loyal knight of Nephele, and I will do whatever it takes to protect this kingdom."
Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? I wonder how far your loyalty really extends."
Seungcheol gritted his teeth, feeling the blood rush to his face. He wanted to lash out at Jeonghan, to defend himself and his honour. But he knew that it would only make things worse.
Instead, he turned on his heel and walked away, feeling Jeonghan's eyes burning into his back. He had a job to do, and he couldn't let anything get in the way of that.
As he walked towards the stables to prepare his horse, Seungcheol couldn't help but wonder if his plan to push Y/N away was the right one. He knew that it was for the greater good, but the thought of never seeing her again made his heartache.
But he pushed those thoughts aside, reminding himself that duty came before personal feelings. He mounted his horse and rode off towards the northern border, steeling himself for the battle that lay ahead.
As he rode out to meet the Roseate army, Seungcheol felt a pang in his heart at the thought of Y/N. He couldn't let his guard down, though. He had to keep his mind clear and his focus sharp.
The battle was fierce, with both sides suffering heavy casualties. Seungcheol fought with all his might, his mind focused solely on the battle. He couldn't afford to make any mistakes.
As the battle raged on, Seungcheol spotted Minghao on the opposite side of the battlefield. He gritted his teeth in anger, thinking about the tensions between Nephele and Roseate caused by the Prince's recent actions.
Seungcheol and his men fought valiantly, eventually pushing back the Roseate army and claiming temporary victory for Nephele.
The battle was intense and gruelling, but Seungcheol led the Nephele army to victory. As he rode back into the kingdom, he saw Y/N waiting for him, a look of concern etched on her face.
"Seungcheol, are you okay?" she asked, rushing over to him.
He forced himself to be cold, to push her away. "I'm fine, Princess. Just doing my duty as head knight."
Y/N looked hurt, but she didn't push the issue. Seungcheol knew that he had to keep up this act, even if it hurt both of them in the process.
Days turned into weeks, and Seungcheol continued to distance himself from Y/N. He was cold and distant, always putting his duty to the kingdom above his personal feelings.
Y/N tried to reach out to him, to understand what had happened between them, but Seungcheol shut her out. He couldn't risk giving in to his feelings for her, no matter how much he wanted to.
Eventually, Y/N began to give up hope. She stopped trying to reach out to Seungcheol, and their interactions became strained and formal.
Seungcheol watched her from afar, his heart breaking at the thought of losing her. But he knew that it was for the best. He couldn't let their feelings for each other get in the way of his duty to Nephele.
So he pushed her away, silently bearing the pain of his own broken heart.
For the next few days, Seungcheol kept his distance from Y/N. He went about his duties as head knight, staying focused on training the soldiers and organizing battle plans in case of another attack. Whenever Y/N approached him, he was curt and distant. It was painful for him to do, but he knew it was for the best.
Y/N was confused and hurt by Seungcheol's sudden change in behaviour. She tried to talk to him, but he always had some excuse to leave or was too busy to pay her much attention.
Days turned into weeks and soon Seungcheol was preparing for the final battle against Roseate. As they were about to leave, Y/N approached him once more. "Seungcheol, please talk to me," she pleaded. "What's going on? Why are you acting like this?"
Seungcheol took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "Y/N, I can't do this anymore," he said, his voice steady but laced with pain. "I can't keep pretending that everything is okay between us when I know that it's not. We both know that what we shared was a mistake. It can't happen again."
Y/N was shocked and hurt by Seungcheol's words. Tears filled her eyes as she struggled to comprehend what he was saying. "Seungcheol, please don't do this," she begged. "We can work through this together. We can figure it out."
But Seungcheol remained firm. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I can't," he said, before turning and walking away, leaving Y/N alone and heartbroken.
As he rode away, Seungcheol couldn't help but feel like he was making the biggest mistake of his life. But he knew it was necessary. He had to push Y/N away before their feelings became too strong to ignore. He had to do what was best for both of them, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness.
Seungcheol watched as Y/N walked away, feeling a pang of guilt in his chest. He knew he was hurting her, but he couldn't let himself get any closer to her. Not when he had a duty to fulfil to Nephele.
As the bright summer months began to change into a gruelling winter, Seungcheol continued to avoid Y/N's company whenever he could. He focused on his duties as the head knight and tried to push aside the growing feelings he had for the princess.
But it wasn't easy. Every time he saw her, his heart ached. He missed the way she smiled at him, the sound of her laughter, the warmth of her touch. But he knew he had to stay strong, for both their sakes.
One day, as Seungcheol was training his men in the courtyard, he saw Y/N walking towards him. He tensed up, unsure of what to do.
"Seungcheol," Y/N said, her voice soft.
"Princess," he replied, keeping his tone cold and formal.
"I…I know you've been avoiding me," she said, her eyes downcast. "And I understand why. But I can't help how I feel."
Seungcheol felt his resolve crumbling. He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and tell her how he felt. But he knew he couldn't.
"Princess, please," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I can't…we can't."
"Why?" Y/N asked, looking up at him with tears in her eyes.
"Because it's forbidden," Seungcheol replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I have a duty to this kingdom."
"But don't you have a duty to yourself as well?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling.
Seungcheol sighed heavily. He knew she was right. He had been trying so hard to deny his own feelings that he had forgotten to take care of himself.
"I…I don't know," he said finally. "All I know is that we can't be together. Not now, at least."
Y/N nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I understand," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But it doesn't make it any easier."
Seungcheol felt a lump form in his throat as he watched her walk away. He knew he had made the right decision, but it didn't stop his heart from breaking.
Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. Seungcheol had been away on the frontlines, leading the charge against the kingdom of Roseate. Y/N was left in the castle, waiting anxiously for any news of the war. She had tried to reach out to Seungcheol, but he was cold and distant, ignoring her letters and avoiding her at every turn.
Y/N couldn't understand why Seungcheol was acting this way. She had thought they had something special, something that could survive the trials of war and distance. But now, she was left feeling confused and heartbroken. She had never felt this way before, and it scared her.
One day, Y/N was walking in the castle gardens, lost in her thoughts when she heard a voice behind her. "Princess, a messenger from the front lines has arrived with news for you."
Y/N turned around and saw a young soldier, his face weary and tired. "What news do you have?" she asked, her heart pounding in her chest.
The soldier hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I'm sorry to inform you, but the head knight, Seungcheol, was captured by the enemy. We don't know his fate, but we fear the worst."
Y/N felt like the ground had been ripped from beneath her feet. Her heart ached with indescribable pain. She couldn't believe that Seungcheol was gone, that he might never come back to her.
She went to her chambers and sat down at her desk, her hands shaking as she wrote a letter to her brother, Jeonghan, begging him to help her find Seungcheol. She knew that Jeonghan didn't approve of their relationship, but she had to do everything in her power to save Seungcheol.
Days turned into weeks, and Y/N heard nothing from Jeonghan. She felt hopeless, alone, and scared. She missed Seungcheol more than anything in the world, and she didn't know what to do without him.
Y/N spent her days waiting for any news of Seungcheol, praying that he was still alive and that they could be reunited. She felt like she was living in a nightmare, and she didn't know how to escape it.
As Seungcheol was dragged away from the battlefield, he saw Minghao and his soldiers approach him, sneering with a wicked grin on his face. Seungcheol gritted his teeth, his mind racing with the thought of the safety of his kingdom.
"What do you want?" Seungcheol demanded, trying to break free from the hold of the soldiers.
"Ah, the mighty Head Knight of Nephele, how honourable," Minghao taunted, approaching him. "I have heard of your bravery, Seungcheol. Your loyalty to your kingdom is commendable, but I'm afraid it will not save you now."
Seungcheol's heart sank, realizing that he was completely outnumbered and outmatched. He tried to keep his composure, knowing that showing fear would only give them more satisfaction. But inside, he was terrified.
"What do you want from me?" Seungcheol repeated, struggling to keep his voice steady.
Minghao leaned in close, a sly smile on his face. "Oh, nothing much. Just a little information."
Seungcheol's heart raced, knowing that he couldn't reveal any secrets about Nephele, even under the threat of torture. He steeled himself, ready to face whatever was to come.
But little did he know, this would be the beginning of a long and painful journey for both himself and Y/N.
Days passed before Seungcheol was once again brought before the Roseate King, Minghaos father, who had mysteriously recovered from the plague seeming to corrupt all five kingdoms, and his generals. However, Minghao's presence was not there, his absence leaving a fierce feeling of doom amongst Seungcheol.
They stood before him with smirks on their faces, ready to interrogate him for information on the Nephele kingdom. They had been brutal with him, trying to break him down, but Seungcheol remained strong. He refused to give them any information that would harm his kingdom.
The Roseate King grew impatient and raised his voice, "You are a loyal dog, Seungcheol, but your loyalty to the Nephele kingdom will be your downfall."
Seungcheol remained steadfast, his eyes never leaving the king's as he teased Seuncheol with the idea of hurting the ones he loved most, seeming to go through a mental list in his mind to spot any weaknesses.
"What about Princess Y/N, a pretty one I hear, loved amongst all the kingdoms." The King began, the corners of his lips rising as he spotted Seuncheols heaving chest.
Seungcheol's eyes hardened with determination. He knew then that he would fight until his last breath to protect her and his kingdom.
The Roseate King noticed the change in Seungcheol's demeanour and grinned. "Ah, I see we have touched a nerve. Tell us about your relationship with the princess."
Seungcheol's jaw clenched. He would not betray Y/N's trust, even if it meant his death.
"It would be a shame, wouldn't it, if one were to hurt the precious princess." One of the guards started, sizing Seungcheol up with his eyes as he talked.
Seungcheol saw red. He broke free from his restraints, instead using them as a weapon to weaken the guards surrounding him.
Seungcheol fought with a ferocity that surprised even himself. His muscles flexed with each movement, his sword slicing through the air with ease. He was a warrior, a protector, and nothing would stand in his way of protecting his kingdom and the woman he loved.
As he fought, Seungcheol heard Y/N's voice in his head, urging him on. He fought for her, for their love, and for the future, they could have together. The Roseate soldiers fell one by one, and soon Seungcheol was the only one standing.
Breathing heavily, he stood tall and looked at the Roseate King with a fierce glare. "I will protect my kingdom and my princess with my life. You will never lay a hand on her."
With that, Seungcheol turned and walked away, leaving the Roseate Kingdom behind. He would return to Nephele and to Y/N, to fight for their future and to love her with all his heart.
As Seungcheol stepped off his horse, he immediately spotted Y/N. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her hair was dishevelled from the wind. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the sight of her. He approached her slowly, unsure of how she would react.
But as soon as she saw him, all her reservations melted away. She ran towards him, her arms outstretched, and jumped into his embrace. Seungcheol wrapped his arms tightly around her, tears threatening to spill from his own eyes.
"Seungcheol!" Y/N cried, her voice choked with emotion. "I was so worried about you."
Seungcheol held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his own. He buried his face in her hair, taking in her familiar scent. For a moment, he forgot all about the past, about the war, about everything except the woman in his arms.
"I'm sorry, Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry for everything."
Y/N pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. "I forgive you," she said softly. "I just want you to be safe."
Seungcheol nodded, his own eyes filling with tears. "I'll do everything in my power to protect you," he vowed.
The two of them stood there for a while longer, holding each other tightly. Y/N didn't care about the people passing by, staring at them. All she cared about was Seungcheol and the fact that he was finally back in her arms.
Finally, they pulled away from each other, and Seungcheol took a step back, his eyes scanning Y/N's face. "You're so beautiful," he said softly. Y/N blushed at his words, feeling her heart flutter in her chest. "Thank you," she whispered.
Seungcheol smiled at her, a warm, genuine smile that reached all the way to his eyes. It was a smile that made Y/N's heart skip a beat.
Seungcheol held Y/N in his arms, feeling her tears soak into his shirt. He pulled back slightly to look at her face, his thumb wiping away the tears that fell down her cheeks.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N," Seungcheol whispered, his voice heavy with guilt. "I should have never left you. I should have never tried to push you away."
Y/N looked up at Seungcheol, her eyes red and puffy from crying. "I don't care," she said softly. "I just want you. I've missed you so much."
Seungcheol's heart swelled with emotion. "I've missed you too, Y/N. More than you can imagine."
They stood there for a moment, lost in each other's eyes. And then, without another word, Seungcheol leaned down and captured Y/N's lips in a passionate kiss. She responded eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.
The kiss was long and heated, full of the pent-up desire and longing they had been feeling for each other. When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless and flushed.
"I love you, Y/N," Seungcheol said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I love you more than anything."
Y/N smiled through her tears. "I love you too, Seungcheol. I always have and I always will."
They kissed again, this time slower and more tender. They were lost in each other, finally free to love each other without fear or hesitation.
Jeonghan stood there in shock as he watched his sister and Seungcheol embrace each other. He had suspected that there was something between them, but he never expected it to be this intense. He watched as Seungcheol whispered sweet nothings into Y/N's ear, wiping away her tears.
The king, who had been watching from a distance, approached them with a stern look on his face. "Seungcheol, I understand that you have feelings for my daughter, but you know that as the Head Knight of Nephele, it is your duty to put your kingdom before your personal desires."
Seungcheol looked at the king with a determined expression. "I know that, Your Highness, but my duty to my kingdom does not mean that I have to give up on my happiness. I love Y/N with all my heart, and I will do whatever it takes to make her happy."
The king sighed heavily, knowing that he couldn't deny the love between Seungcheol and Y/N any longer. "Very well. But know that your actions will have consequences. I will not tolerate any disruption to the peace between our two kingdoms."
Seungcheol nodded his head in understanding, still holding onto Y/N tightly. Jeonghan finally snapped out of his daze and approached the couple with a wide smile on his face. "Well, it's about time you two finally confessed your love for each other! I always knew there was something special between you."
Y/N laughed through her tears and hugged her brother. "Thank you for understanding, Jeonghan. We just couldn't keep our feelings hidden any longer."
The rest of the day was filled with celebrations and feasts as the news of the two kingdoms finally coming together in love spread. Seungcheol and Y/N were inseparable, holding hands and stealing kisses whenever they could. They knew that they had a long road ahead of them, but they were willing to face it together.
As they watched the sunset together, Seungcheol pulled Y/N into his arms once again. "I never want to let you go, Y/N. You mean everything to me."
Y/N smiled up at him, her heart full of love and happiness. "I feel the same way, Seungcheol. I can't believe we were both so blind to our feelings for each other."
Seungcheol kissed her forehead gently. "But now we know, and we can make up for the lost time. I promise to love and protect you for as long as I live."
Y/N snuggled into his embrace, feeling safe and loved. "And I promise to love and support you in everything you do, Seungcheol. Together, we can conquer anything."
Y/N's arms tightened around him as she returned his kiss with equal fervour. They stood there, lost in each other's embrace, for what felt like an eternity. When they finally pulled away, they were both smiling through their tears.
"I missed you so much," Y/N said, looking up at Seungcheol with adoration in her eyes.
"I missed you too, Y/N," Seungcheol replied, his eyes shining with affection. "And I promise that I will never leave your side again."
As they walked away from the crowd, Seungcheol couldn't help but feel grateful for the second chance he had been given. He knew that he would never take Y/N for granted again, and he would always cherish the love that they shared.
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it’s here, the first instalment of the sonder series! please comment and reblog, all feedback is appreciated and don’t be scared to literally spam my ask box since i really like interacting with readers. make sure to let me know which instalment you’re most excited for so i can start writing them!
tags : @shiningstar-byulxx @woo8hao @hoshi-mochi @sanxoxodra @memoooooooooo @tara-drabbles @eiiasmarteii @mimisxs @hikyeom @dearlosver
1K notes · View notes
kikyan · 9 months
Text
Hellfire
Cw: Yandere content means Yandere content y’all, dub-con, stalking, obsessive behavior, abuse of power, Father/Priest! Rollo (AS IN PRIEST NOT INCEST), masturbation, body worship, oral (GN! Reader receiving), fingering, riding, religious themes, etc
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland 
Pairing: Rollo x GN! Reader 
Words: 9.5K 
A/N: Everyone look at your calendars and do you see how in reality it isn’t a New Year but rather Halloween and this Halloween special is coming out on the day it was meant to and not almost 3 months later? Fantastic, moving on. . .enjoy :)) 
A/N2: I want to preface this by saying that this fic does have religion/religious themes. This is not an accurate portrayal either, so please do not come for me-! I did grow up catholic but in my teen years became a full atheist so anything said in this fic is me recalling my childhood. Also, I googled bible verses because I don’t remember any and they were all in Spanish so, yeah. . .enjoy! :))
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The bells rang throughout Fleur City, signaling the start of Sunday mass. The crowd gathered, rushing to find any available seats to sit down on. Those unfortunate would have to stand, as they did not dare miss the mass. Father Rollo was an exceptional man, his voice and words rang throughout the church and captivated everyone who was blessed to be in his presence. He handled himself professionally, standing with an upright posture and his head was always looking ahead. He was truly a man befitting to be god's messenger. Fleur City was fortunate to have Father Rollo, he was a man adored by his people and [Reader] was no different. They were locked on Father Rollo who strutted with confidence,
 “Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you” 
His eyes locked with [Reader]. They broke away from his eyes but could still feel his piercing eyes on them. 
“I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” 
Cheers erupted from within the church the moment he finished his sentence. Mass was shortly concluded after the church staff asked for donations. Plenty of people offered whatever they could spare, but it was appreciated. The church was emptying but a few others stayed behind to have a few words with Father Rollo. [Reader] stayed seated but looked over at Father Rollo from the corner of their eye. He was attending to the people and their needs, he truly was a virtuous man. They averted their gaze when they saw Father Rollo turn to them. He bid goodbye to the troubled crowd. His heeled shoes echoed loudly through the emptying church, stopping in front of [Reader]. 
“[Reader], good morning. How have you been?” 
“Oh. . good morning, Father Rollo. I’ve been well, how about you?” 
“It has been a pleasant morning so far and I can only pray that it shall remain that way. Though I will say, it’s certainly comforting knowing you’re here. I did not see you anywhere last week.” 
“R-Right. . .my apologies. It certainly wasn’t my intention to miss last week’s mass, but I’m afraid I did end up catching a cold. It has since passed and I feel quite better.” 
“ You ought to take care of yourself, [Reader]. It would be a shame if something terrible happened to you. You are, after all, our number one devotee here at the Church. It would be rather quiet and lonely if you were to go.” 
“Ha ha, it was only a cold Father Rollo, not the plague. I assure you, I am fine. Besides, I’m pretty strong enough to handle an illness.” 
[Reader] returned a smile to Rollo, whose face remained expressionless, but his eyebrows furrowed upwards in un-amusement.  
“That you are, you have God’s protection as one of his children. Alas, I must be off. Till next we meet, [Reader].” 
Rollo turned around and left the main hall, leaving [Reader] alone. It was only for a split second, but he turned around to gaze at them again. 
[Reader] was in love with Rollo. Their greatest sin that would be known to the dead once they passed. They remember their first meeting, plain as day, unlike that stormy night where this story takes place. 
There was a storm and it was pouring. The kind that people were warned to stay indoors because of the severity, yet here [Reader] was running to the middle of the town where the church lay. Their face was coated in rainwater which made it almost impossible to keep their eyes open, they were struggling to breathe, and the cold that accompanied the storm did little to help. They were staggering over to the Church. 
“[READER!] GET BACK HERE NOW AND I MIGHT FORGIVE YOU!” 
Panic rose and they didn’t dare look back, for if they did, surely it would be their last. They didn’t dare scream for help, because they knew their cries would be drowned by the storm. They finally made it to the center, running up the stairs of the cathedral, and lunged to the door. No surprise that it was locked. 
“[READER]! STOP!”
“L-LEAVE ME ALONE! SANCTUARY, PLEASE GIVE ME SANCTUARY!” 
[Reader] pleaded and began to hit the doors with all their might. The person who was no doubt chasing after them continued their pursuit. They were approaching the steps and soon, close enough to reach out to [Reader]. Just in the nick of time, the door opened enough for [Reader] to throw themselves inside. They landed on the cold stone floors and used whatever strength they had to scramble away from the door. They looked up to see a skinny man with a pale face, green-blue eyes, dark bags under his eyes, and silver hair behind the door. He was adorned in an ankle-long robe and wore black-heeled loafers. His outfit certainly was nothing too fancy, then again it was the middle of the night. 
“S-Sanctuary! P-please, give me sanctuary!” 
“What seems to be the matter-!?” 
The man turned to them but was cut from the person chasing after [Reader]. 
“[Reader]! C’mere, now.” 
The anger in his voice disappeared but there was sternness laced in his request. The silver-haired man turned to the other person. The storm showered them, and the mud that they tracked in did not go unnoticed by the silver-haired man. 
“Forgive me. My name is Rollo Flamme, I am one of the priests here. May I ask what seems to be the issue? I certainly did not expect there to be anyone leisuring out in the streets with the storm raging outside.” 
The silver-haired man, now named ‘Rollo’, asked. Rollo turned to the person outside with an unamused expression. 
“Father Rollo, pardon the intrusion. You see, that person over there is named [Reader], they're my partner. My partner also suffers from an unstable state of mind. It would be best if we returned-!?” 
“Father Rollo, is everything alright?” 
They all turned to look at an elderly woman who no doubt worked for the church. Rollo shook his head and the woman took it as a sign to approach the door. 
“Everything is alright here, there is no need for the both of you to concern yourselves over our issues. Me and [Reader] would be taking our leave-!?” 
“I think not. It would be against everything we stand for if we turned away someone who came to this holy place and asked for sanctuary. I apologize, but I’ll be asking for you to leave. Madam, take this one,” 
Rollo turned to face [Reader], 
“This one inside. Run them a warm bath and please get them a fresh set of clothes. As for you, sir. . please leave.” 
[Reader’s] partner scoffed and stepped forward, 
“I wouldn’t recommend that.” 
He stopped after Rollo’s warning. Soon, others started to arrive within the church, including the guards. [Reader’s] partner glared at Rollo but decided against their actions. They just scoffed and went outside. The church’s door was shut and locked following his departure. 
[Reader] had been sitting on the floor, trying to steady their breathing. Rollo walked over to them and helped them off their feet. 
“You’re safe here in the house of God, he cannot hurt you any longer.” 
Rollo then walked away, moving people to their station leaving [Reader] alone with the Madam. 
“Come child, let’s get you out of those freezing clothes and into a warm bath.” 
That was the first time they met Rollo. 
Several weeks later, [Reader] was still within the church and assisting in any way they could. They would sometimes join the community in cleaning the church, making meals to provide during the holidays, and so forth. They were currently helping the volunteers make bread until Rollo arrived in the kitchen. 
“Good morning, Father Rollo! How may we assist you?” 
The elderly woman asked Rollo, who turned to face her. 
“Good morning, Madam. I see you’re all hard at work assisting the church so I won’t take up too much of your time. May I speak with [Reader]?” 
At the mention of their name, [Reader] perked up. The Madam turned to them and asked, 
“Of course, is that alright?” 
[Reader] nodded, dropping their task and washing their hands. They turned to look at Rollo who nodded, 
“This way, please.” 
Rollo led the way to his office and closed the door once they were both inside. He turned to them and offered the chair across from his. 
“Sit, please. Good morning, [Reader]. How are you this morning?” 
“Father Rollo. . .great. This morning has been great so far, busy but no complaints from me yet! How about yours?” 
“Fine, busy as well but such is life as God’s servant. Now, I wanted to discuss some things with you. The man that pursued you when you arrived at our doorsteps, I presume you would be content knowing that he has since left the town. He is no longer residing in Fleur City.” 
[Reader] let out a sigh of relief, since the day they arrived at the steps of the cathedral they have been residing within it. All housing was provided by the church as well as their meals. They weren’t expected to assist with the chores at the church, but they felt it was the least they could do. They would leave to go into town occasionally but always went with a guide or a guard in case anything happened. Rollo had made arrangements for them to avoid any further issues. They weren’t aware that their partner who had tormented them relentlessly had left the city or had any plans to. 
“Thank you. . . Father Rollo. I appreciate you informing me.” 
“ Of course, now that he has permanently left Fleur City we can arrange to get you a small place within the city. Don’t worry, if you still wish to assist the Church it will be nearby and the place will be within the guard's post. The area will be carefully monitored and maintained.” 
“Father Rollo. . that’s too much. I appreciate all you have done since that day, but asking for my living quarters would be too much-!” 
“Nonsense. You requested sanctuary from the church and since then, we have worked hard to provide that for you. It’s no trouble at all, you’re a precious child of God after all and he never abandons his children.” 
Rollo faced [Reader] who was deep in thought. A place to stay without the haunting memories of their partner who could care less about them. [Reader] turned their gaze to Rollo and smiled, 
“Thank you for your kindness, Father Rollo.” 
From then, [Reader] had been living in the house provided by the church. Their place was warm and cozy, but most importantly, theirs. As days went by, [Reader] continued to attend weekly mass and stayed behind to help the community with events. Though Rollo was a well-known priest, he certainly wasn’t the only one present in the cathedral. The community had gotten together to thank the priests and were thinking of how to repay each one. The madam took the request and decided to host a small celebration for them with food and games for the community. 
The entire town was invited to attend and they did, for there was no greater honor than celebrating their townsmen. Rollo stood in the center, overseeing the event rather than partaking in it like the other priests. He saw how his colleagues engaged with the town, his eyes were trained on them. They had no problem mingling with others and taking the front while Rollo chose to stay behind. 
“Are you not enjoying yourself, Father Rollo?” 
He turned to the voice, it was [Reader]. 
“I am, but conversing with others isn’t something I do quite well at. I leave that task, to the others. What about you, [Reader]?” 
“Oh, I am as well. I too, don’t tend to mingle with others, at least not in events like this. It’s still taking me a while to adjust to being in control of my own life.” 
Rollo spared a glance at [Reader] who sadly reminisced. Their partner would often take control of the conversation and not allow [Reader] to speak. They would often leave [Reader] in social gatherings to fend for themselves and never acknowledge their feelings. After a while and per their adored partner’s request, stopped leaving their shared home. This resulted in [Reader] self-isolating.  
“I see. Often, just being in the company of someone you trust is more than enough at events like these. However I do hope that moving forward, we can heal from the past.” 
Socializing wasn’t his strong suit; if he did, it was always formal and respectful. There was no time for jokes or silly banter, that is why Rollo helped Fleur City behind the scenes. He handled all formal matters while the others tended to the city with their words and charisma. Even now, his words of comfort were formal and didn’t properly convey his feelings. 
“One day, I will join the crowd again and this time, maybe I can take you with me, Father Rollo. Oh, by the way, I have something for you.” 
Rollo faced [Reader] who was looking into their pocket. 
“Here! I know it doesn’t mean much and it’s certainly a very cheap gift, but I want to express my gratitude. Thank you for all that you’ve done, Father Rollo. Without you, I don’t think I would be here with the Madam and the Town, so thank you.” 
He looked at his hands to see a wine-red handkerchief with purple embroidery on the outer edges, his name was woven into the corner. It was a simple gift really, but the difference with most gifts that he received was that this was hand-made. Handmade with love, love from the person that he cared the most about. Rollo stammered, 
“T-Thank you, I shall keep this with me at all times. It’s lovely, [Reader].” 
[Reader] turned to see his eyes gazing deeply at theirs. It was different, unlike a small expression of gratitude with professionalism laced Rollo’s eyes betrayed him. Behind his eyes, desire and love peeked through, even if it was for a split moment. 
“Of course. . .my pleasure, Father Rollo.” 
Rollo was called shortly after to attend to a matter within the cathedral, but before parting from [Reader], he promised he would return promptly. Rollo left and attended the matter fairly quickly, but before leaving to meet up with [Reader], he walked to his office. Locking the door, he took out the handkerchief and brought it up to his nose, inhaling the sweet scent from it. 
‘[Reader]’ 
Rollo recalled the memory of when he first laid eyes on them. It wasn’t anything too special, he was just in town when he stumbled upon them. Rollo has observed throughout his life all the filth from others and their actions. [Reader] had remained a pure innocent soul devoid of any sins. 
‘ Humans are sinful creatures and  that is why we exist. . .’ 
Rollo had engraved that concept into his mind. There are 7 sins within mankind - pride, wrath, envy, gluttony, sloth, greed, and lust. Humans will lie, cheat, steal, manipulate, and take advantage of others for personal greed. In reality, society has failed itself and remains to be a stain on this world. [Reader] was a positive chum, but was a sight to behold in a world of sin. 
Rollo was walking through town, which was a rare sight considering the only place you could glance at him would be in the cathedral. He noticed hidden behind a stall that there was a child, looking confused and scared. 
‘ No doubt lost.’ 
Rollo thought to himself but did not step forward just yet. He recalled a conversation he had with the Madam, a woman whom he respected as she was not like the others either. She had devoted herself to the church and helping others after the passing of her husband.  She would confess that no human was free of sin, but that didn’t mean that they were undeserving of God’s love and a place in his kingdom. It was silly, but he remembered what he told her after, 
“You’re right Madam, everyone is worthy of God’s love. Though do not underestimate humanity’s free will, some of them choose to sin and relish in their filth.”  
The madam shook her head and reminded Rollo that he should not be so quick to place judgment on others, but it was futile. 
He recalled that memory as he saw the scene displayed in front of him, a defenseless child turning to adults begging for help. Those same ‘adults’ had brushed the child off and some even as far to push the child away. 
“P-Please, I can’t find my mommy-” 
“Not interested.” 
“Stay clear of the road! Damn, brats. . .” 
‘Are these the same people who deserve God’s love, Madam?’
Rollo began walking to the child but stopped when he noticed another individual walk up to the child, 
“My name is [Reader], are you lost? Did you lose your parents?” 
The child nodded and [Reader] lightly brushed the tears that were forming away, 
“I see, well let me try to help you find them. When did you see them last?” 
“I saw my mommy over there. . .” 
The child pointed towards the growing crowd. In theory, this mother could be anywhere but if she was observant then no doubt she noticed her child missing. [Reader] nodded and held out their hand to the child, asking permission to hold their hand. The child allowed it, letting [Reader] lead them into the crowd. The child's grip tightened, afraid to lose their newfound savior. Rollo followed them, wanting to make sure that this child wasn’t going to be kidnapped. He saw how ‘[Reader]’ was holding onto the child and stopping in the area, asking the child if they saw their mother. When the child shook their head, [Reader] would begin calling out if someone lost their child. The town was busy and [Reader’s] cries were lost to the wind, but they did not lose their determination. After half an hour, Rollo heard a woman frantically calling out what was probably the child's name as the child perked up at the mention of it. [Reader] carefully maneuvered their way across the crowd to reunite the mother and child. Rollo witnessed the scene of the mother and child holding each other close, the mother turning to [Reader] and thanking them, and [Reader] reassuring them. Rollo scoffed, one person was not enough to persuade his mind that humanity was any different. It didn’t just stop there, weeks after the incident they had another run-in with them - at a distance, of course. 
[Reader] was in the market with the intent of buying groceries, but instead offered to help the people at the stands. It was a never-ending cycle, when they finished their task another person went to them asking for help. 
‘They’re a fool, they’re being taken advantage of by the others-’ 
“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t mind helping but I haven’t finished my shopping. When I finish and if you still need help I can come back.” 
“Oh, I’m sorry [Reader], I didn’t mean to take up your time! It’s fine if you can’t, but thank you anyway.” 
[Reader] politely excused themselves and finished their shopping. A couple of instances off the top of his head that Rollo remembered, [Reader] buying food for a beggar on the street, helping an elderly person cross the street, helping a cat out of their collar once they noticed it was choking from it, and when they helped stitch back up a child's toy once it was ruined. Rollo was getting irritated at this point, 
‘Madam, I swear it’s like you enjoy tormenting me. . .are you trying to prove a point?’ 
The scowl written on his face was unwavering as he continued to observe this happy-go-lucky person. He managed to overhear the conversation between [Reader] and another person. 
“You’re so nice [Reader], it’s so rare to find someone who cares about people the way you do!” 
“You think so? I don’t think I am doing anything too grand, I just do what comes normal to me.” 
“Yes! You have a heart of gold, I mean you offer to help when needed. You should be careful though, people out there would take advantage of that kindness.” 
“Hm, I guess. I mean, I just do what I can but if it’s too much or something I can’t do I’m not opposed to saying no. I think a lot of people just think I’m too nice because they’re just used to being treated with little kindness. I don’t want to be a bystander if I can do something. I hold the door for people if they’re close and I’m not going to shut the door on them, it’s not like it takes too much time.” 
“Aw, you’re so nice.” 
“I don’t think so, I mean would you shut the door on me if I was behind you?” 
“Well. . .” 
“Then you’re just too mean.” 
[Reader] and the person exchanged a laugh before parting ways. Rollo stood still and turned to see [Reader] back in the distance, leaving the marketplace. His resolve didn’t sway, humans were still corrupt and undeserving of salvation, the only difference now was that there was an exception. Rollo would be lying if he sometimes didn’t go into town to glance at [Reader] and if he was lucky enough, he would be there at the same time. Over months though, he began to see less and less of them. He started to worry a bit, for the first weeks he chalked it up to [Reader] wanting time away from town but was surprised to know that nobody had seen them in the market for a month. Rollo approached a vendor, starting small talk, 
“Good morning, Father Rollo. How do you do today?” 
“I’m quite fine, thank you for asking. How about yourself?”
“Aw well, same! Business has been booming but I haven’t seen my top customer in a while!” 
“Oh, and who is that?” 
“[Reader]! They’re a sweet thing but suddenly stopped coming into town. I won’t lie, I am a little worried about them.” 
“[Reader]? I don’t believe I’ve seen them at mass. . .” 
“]Reader] used to go if I remember correctly, but I’m not too sure. I know they used to into town daily, aside from their work they loved to walk around the city. I think they stopped coming out as much a year or two ago, sometimes though they’ll come daily but it’s so rare when they do! I’m not quite sure why-!” 
“It’s because of their partner!” 
Rollo and the vendor turned to another person, an elderly lady who had joined the conversation. 
“Their partner. . .?” 
Rollo questioned, 
“Yes! At first, it was sweet. They met at [Readers’s] work and instantly became close, I would sometimes frequent their workplace you see. Their partner treated them with so much kindness but after a while, it was plain as day, he was isolating them! I remember I was walking home when I overheard them get into an argument, he wanted [Reader] to quit their job. [Reader] refused and that was the end of it, I’m not sure how they managed to persuade him because all I could hear was his yelling. After a while, [Reader] didn’t come to work and I thought they did quit, but when they came back they weren’t the same. They were still kind as ever, but you could tell something was off. Whenever they do come into town, it’s because their partner isn’t in Fleur City. I heard he sometimes goes back to take care of his ill parents.” 
Rollo was conflicted, who was this woman to be spreading such personal information of theirs but he had to thank her, without her, he never would have come to realize what needed to be done. Rollo had to admit, over the time he spent observing [Reader] he did become enamored with them. One true nature is revealed in several ways, how one presents oneself, their thoughts and actions, and what one preaches. Their nature had long been revealed, [Reader] was the only person whom Rollo believed was deserving of God’s love and he would not let them become a martyr for those deserving the flames of hell. 
Rollo set his plan in motion. He carefully wrote a letter and paid someone who the town would never recognize to deliver it into the hands of [Reader’s] partner. Their partner read the contents and before they could react, the person who delivered it had vanished to report to Rollo. 
“It’s been done?” 
“Yes, Father Rollo. May I ask though, what do you plan-” 
“That’s enough, you needn't worry about the content of the letter. Your task was to deliver, which you have. You’re free to go.” 
The man excused himself, leaving Rollo at his desk with his elbows propped but his hands were close together. He was deep in thought, 
“He would be wise to appear later tonight if he truly cares for his parents.” 
Later that night, their partner had walked down to the waterways. There, they met a cloaked individual. 
“Are you the one who sent me that letter? Who the fuck do you think you are to threaten my family-!” 
“I wouldn’t if I were you.” 
The cloaked individual placed their hand out, to halt them from coming closer. They used that same hand to point upwards. When [Reader’s] partner looked up, they were met with several shadows who were not afraid to display their weapons. 
“What do you want?” 
Their partner scoffed out. The cloaked individual spoke out, 
“You have a partner by the name of [Reader]. Let’s just say that they owe me something, that being said it’s hard for us to come in contact with one another. This is where you come in, I need you to lure them into town. Do it on a rainy day, when there are fewer people to overhear, but I need you to lure them to the center of town. Make sure that nobody sees you two or asks about you, do you understand?” 
“What do they owe you-?!” 
“That’s none of your concern! Just, lure them into the center of the town. My men will be watching to make sure no one interferes but remember, if someone comes to find out about this plan. Well, you know what will happen to your family, understood?” 
Their partner gulped in fear and nodded, 
“You may go, and remember to not tell a single soul about this. I’ll always be listening.” 
They remained still for a brief moment, processing the words of the individual, before running out. Once they were out of sight, the person removed their cloak. Rollo stood in the center, looking at the moon and breathing out a sigh of relief. Those armed shadows turned to Rollo and asked, 
“Father Rollo, may I ask who that man is?” 
“Just someone this world would be better without. Keep me updated on his location and if he says anything. Remember, this is all to protect Fleur City.” 
Rollo disappeared within the waterways. 
Rollo approached the fireplace in his office and looked down at the handkerchief once more before tenderly caressing it into his face. 
“[Reader], I’ll repeat your name over and over like a prayer, I’d never tire of it. . .if only you knew of all things I did for you to be by my side. . .” 
The memory rolled over in his head, 
“There is a storm coming, we should make preparations in case of anything.” 
“Oh, you’re always so diligent and a step ahead, Father Rollo.” 
“Madam, one can never be too prepared.” 
The madam shook her head at Rollo’s comments but carried out his request. He had stood in preparation for anything. If what was revealed was true, then [Reader] was certainly being isolated by their partner. Their abusive partner would take advantage of another. That being said, he planned to make it so that they lured [Reader] out into the center of town, where the cathedral lay. Their partner may not know it as he was certain he had never seen him before but [Reader] should. They would request sanctuary from the church and there, He would be by the door, awaiting his beloved with open arms. 
Before he knew it, he could hear the shouts and screams outside the door. 
“Sanctuary, give me sanctuary!” 
Before long, Rollo had opened the door and with a perfect facade, displayed concern. He could tell the way their partner trembled that he had feared for his family, he was caught by the church. Their partner had no choice but to flee the scene with their tail between his legs. After Rollo instructed the Madam to watch over [Reader], Rollo had the guards chase after their partner. In the meantime, Rollo had placed his cloak on and made his way to the outskirts of town where he was being held. 
“L-Let me go! Damn it, it wasn’t my fault-!” 
“Didn’t I tell you not to let anyone interfere?” 
“I-it wasn’t my fault! The church and that stupid priest got in the way! P-please leave my f-family alone-!” 
Rollo removed his cloak and presented himself to their ex-partner. 
“Y-you!?” 
“Don’t worry, your family won’t suffer. Though I will admit, I didn’t think you would go through with sacrificing them.” 
“Y-You threatened my family, w-why wouldn’t I?” 
“I suppose there is some logic to that reason. Tell me, did you even love them?” 
“W-what? I-I suppose I did?” 
“You suppose? You’re not certain?” 
Rollo questioned them further, 
“I mean yes! Yes, I did love them! W-what does this have to do with anything, you said they owed you something no-?” 
“ No, they don’t. I did this more to see what you would do and you played right into it. Once again, I was proved right. Humanity is undeserving of God’s love and salvation, you’re all just scum that turn against each other at any moment it’s convenient. You disgust me.” 
“Y-You did this to prove a point!? Y-You think I won’t reveal to the townspeople who their beloved priest is?” 
“Not very intelligent either, are you? I’m not worried, because this is where judgment shall be passed onto you. This goes a little deeper than what you think, but no matter. I hereby declare you, guilty, and your sentence, punished by death. Dispose of him.” 
Rollo turned around, ignoring the pleas of that man. He did turn around to see their execution, before turning back. 
“We shall burn his body, but in the meantime place him somewhere no one will find out. Oh and, arrange for someone to take care of his parents. Hire a doctor to live with them.” 
The others nodded and carried out the order. Rollo headed back to town with a clear conscious. 
His attention remained on the flames. They had burned his body and afterward, devised a plan to break the news to his parents.  As far as they were concerned, he had passed away from a natural cause but because he was such a good member of the church, he was able to have a doctor stay with them full-time. He placed a chaste kiss on the handkerchief, 
‘This burning desire is turning me to sin. . .’ 
Rollo was sitting at the Confessional and while he was a man of God, he was also human. Like humans, he was running short of his patience. Father Rollo was a devoted man to his occupation, but of course, even messengers of God need time of their own. He was covering for another priest, Father Phoebus, who unexpectedly became ill. Rollo’s face turned into one of annoyance and anger, he was certain that the priest wasn’t ill but rather skipping out on his duties. 
‘ No matter, confession ends in about 10 minutes. . .I just need to hold out till then.’ 
Rollo’s optimistic outlook was shattered the moment he heard someone else sit on the other side of the confessional. He rolled his eyes before turning to the wooden lattice opening but stiffened when he saw it was [Reader]. Luckily, this confessional was designed so that the priest would be hidden away and the penitent was visible. 
“I do apologize for coming in so late, Father Phoebus. . but I would like to confess my sins.” 
Rollo cleared his throat, 
“Of course, please, confess to me what ails you.” 
He placed his gaze at [Reader], who remained unaware that instead of Father Phoebus, it was Rollo. 
“Right, to be honest, I’m not quite sure where to begin. All I know is, I’m committing a grave sin. I ... . .in love with a man that I cannot have. He is married to a vow.” 
Rollo’s breath hitched, turned to stare at [Reader] who looked down in regret and disappointment.
“M-married? May I ask, which vow this man is married to?” 
[Reader] stiffened at the question, 
“Father Phoebus. . .it's Father Rollo who I am enamored with. He is God's messenger and as such, I know my feelings will never be reciprocated yet! Yet, I can’t help but still love him.” 
Rollo knew that Reader required guidance and genuine support, but he couldn’t help the need or desire after hearing that the one he loved also felt the same. He pulled out the wine-red handkerchief with the beautiful purple embroidery that outlined the cloth and spelled his name on the corner. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help it as his dick hardened at the idea of [Reader]. 
“T-tell me, how much you love him?” 
Rollo swallowed the lump in his throat. 
“O-Oh w-well. . .” 
It was an awkward question no doubt so there was some resistance from [Reader]. Rollo pressed on, 
“I would like to know how deep your admiration goes so that I c-can properly guide you.” 
“R-right. . well, I love him. At first, I thought it was just admiration because he helped me get back on my feet. When I gave him his handkerchief, I saw more than a simple thanks on his face, but a face of genuine gratitude, which made me fall deeper. I know he’s only being kind to me because it’s the right thing to do and not because of any special treatment, but I can’t help but-” 
Rollo continued to listen to their feelings, but he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t thinking about stroking his cock to their voice. Rollo had never experienced such feelings towards anyone before, but after meeting [Reader] he became a victim of the sin of greed and lust. 
“Though I will admit, maybe the reason I love him is because I feel safe and secure with him. With my past partner, I didn’t feel the same sense of security. I did at first, but after a while, they became the aggressor. I’m not sure why I didn’t leave immediately after and I kept beating myself up about but Father Rollo, assured me that it was not my fault. He was so kind and understanding, it was different from the others who told me something similar. It was sincere from both sides, but with him it was. . it was different.” 
When they finished confessing, Rollo spoke, 
“I don’t think you should be ashamed of your feelings. It’s a natural human thing to feel, love that is. You’re right, Father Rollo is a man tied to an oath by the Church. Under the eyes of God, he may not reciprocate your feelings but that doesn’t mean he would see you any less different. Your sins are forgiven, my child.” 
[Reader] nodded and bid farewell to ‘Father Phoebus’. Rollo watched their figure retreat and let out a breath of relief. Though he could not stop the pounding in his heart nor the tent in his pants. 
“F-Fuck! [R-Reader]-!” 
Rollo had retreated to his office once confessions were over, there he had his handkerchief wrapped around his dick, jerking himself off. The one that he loved felt the same for him but he was sure their love was not the same as his obsession with them. Such a pure and innocent crush on him whereas he shamefully was stroking his cock to the idea of touching them. 
“Ha. . ha. . wanna t-touch you, fuck-!” 
He threw his head back at the pleasure, how would [Reader] react to seeing their beloved Father Rollo fuck the handkerchief that they had gifted him. His orgasm was approaching and his whines were getting louder, he leaned over his table and spilled his seed onto the wine-red cloth, sweat adorning his face. He let out a sigh of relief and sat down on his chair. He thought of [Reader] and this new found confession. Rollo’s mind was made up. 
“I think we’re all good to go, [Reader] we’re heading out now!” 
“Have a good night!” 
[Reader] bid the other church volunteers farewell before giving the church one last good look. They were about to grab their things to depart as well before the doors opened. They turned to look at Father Rollo, who emerged from his office. 
“F-Father Rollo. . .what brings you out here so late?” 
“I’m just giving the Church one final look, but I did hope to catch you before you left.” 
“Me?” 
“Yes, come [Reader], take a walk with me.” 
[Reader] approached Rollo and their walk began. He was taking them across the Cathedral to put out the candles. 
“I know it’s been a while, but how have you been enjoying yourself in Fleur City?” 
“Oh, just fine! Thank you again, for all that you’ve done of course. It certainly feels amazing being able to freely leave and return without being shackled down. Not to mention, it’s a lot more eventful than I remember.” 
“I see, Father Pheobus has attempted to get more events hosted by the church. He would like the city to get together once in a while. It’s something new that he has been doing, but it seems that the townspeople enjoy it.” 
“That they do, may I ask, Father Rollo? Do you not like to get involved in events like these?” 
The main hall of the Cathedral was darkening with each step, 
“I wouldn’t say I dislike it. Socializing with others isn’t my strong suit, I tend to other matters that I excel at rather than mistakenly saying something I don’t mean.” 
[Reader] had noticed that Rollo tended to stay in the shadows and only speak when something needed to be said. If someone approached him and tried conversing, Rollo would maintain the utmost professionalism. He wasn’t one for idle chatter but never turned someone down if they wanted to have a word with him. Rollo continued his task, with [Reader] following close behind. 
“That’s fair. Sometimes not saying anything is the proper response, but I can see how that may stress you out. After all, you are a priest and everyone’s eyes are on you. Sorry, don’t mean to add to the pressure either.” 
As the candles were extinguished one by one, Rollo’s heels added to the ominous vibe that the Cathedral was giving. 
“You’re right, [Reader]. As a priest, all their eyes are on me waiting to hear what I  say but as such, my eyes are also on them. Despite what I preach, I believe that not everyone is capable of salvation. Humans are not devoid of sin, that is the truth. Though we are created in God’s image, we certainly are not perfect. There are those where their sins are mistakes and nothing more. Then some’s sins are perfectly under their control yet still choose to see nothing wrong in their actions. You can have that outlier where one of those wishes to repent and truly feel regret, but then some parade around shamelessly into God’s house asking for forgiveness. It’s laughable.” 
[Reader] remained silent. There was nothing they could say because ultimately, Father Rollo was right to some degree. Though they would be lying if they weren’t off-put by his sudden change. 
“ Did you know that the baker is having an affair? Ongoing for four years actually, yet he never fails to bring his wife and kids into mass every Sunday morning, thanking God for allowing them to live the way they do. They recently had their marriage anniversary, married for 10 years to be exact. I remember I was the one who renewed their vows. His words still ring in my head,”
“I will love you forever and until the end. You’re the pillar that provides me with the strength to keep going. I would never want another partner other than you, the woman I chose to be the mother of my children. I thank God for this blessing that is you, my love.” 
“How romantic, don’t you think? That same night he went back to his other partner, claiming that they had a big order for an event and he needed to be one step ahead of the game. How could I forget the previous head of the Orphanage, asking for food to provide for the children? The church and townspeople helped with what they could, but every time those children would come into mass they remained as thin as ever but the head remained full and content. It wasn’t until I stepped in and of course, led an investigation to find out that he was starving the kids and eating all the food. Now the orphanage is under the care of the Church, to be more specific, under my direct care. Don’t you see how happy those children are every time you come to mass? I even remember when Madam first came to the church, she told us the story of her husband's passing. She and her beloved husband were walking back home when an armed assailant was waiting for them, upon asking for their valuables he stabbed her husband over 27 times before fleeing. When the man was caught, he was just a petty thief who confessed to the crime. Their reasoning was they had no need to steal but got a kick out of watching the fear in the eyes of the defenseless manifest and to make matters worse, this was his first time killing since he never dared to do it before. What could an elderly man do to him had he chosen to fight back, nothing. That same thief pleaded with God before his execution that I had carried out, to spare him.” 
By the time Rollo had gotten to his part in his talk, almost all the candles were out except for four in the front of the altar. There Rollo turned around, facing [Reader] who stood in the middle closest to the altar. He was closest to the church doors but that area had been pitch black. He continued his speech and though he did not pose a threat to [Reader], yet, They couldn’t help the goosebumps that were forming on their skin and the sudden draft within the Cathedral. 
“Of course, the world is not black and white. There is no right or wrong, for if there was I too would have been punished. It’s not practical for me to base my distaste of humanity on a few bad apples, Madam, even after everything she went through still says that everyone deserves salvation but it’s like you said, [Reader]. We’re all so used to this world the way it is that a simple act of kindness, normalcy if you will, is considered a rarity.” 
[Reader] had recalled when they told that vendor that, those were their words and they still stood by it. The only thing was, they told that to the vendor, not Rollo. They shakily took a step back but kept their eyes trained on Rollo. He noticed their expression as well as their stance, but it was no use. The door to the church was locked and only Rollo had the key. He took a step forward, emerging from the darkness and [Reader] took a step back. 
“F-Father Rollo. . is this what you wanted to talk to me about? Sorry. . I just don’t know how this relates to me. . .” 
He let out a chuckle, 
“ You asked why I don’t like to get involved, right? That is my answer. It’s hard to get involved when I am surrounded by the same people I wish I could condemn. However, you are different. I’ll let you in on a little secret, I too have been keeping an eye on you long before we officially met.  You treated everyone with kindness even those that did not deserve it. You remained as human as possible, someone who could voice their feelings and care for everyone equally, even yourself. It was a sight for sore eyes, like an angel in a sea of devils. You tried your best and worked hard, but you knew what you could and couldn’t do. You were even starting to make me regain hope in this world but I quickly noticed that warm light inside of you start to flicker. It was all because of him, [Partner’s Name]. He had slowly started to dim that warm light inside of you and I couldn’t do anything, or so I thought. Your partner driving you out of your home was not accidental,  I can assure you. I had him lure you here, into the Church. There, I was able to save you from him.” 
[Reader’s] breath hitched. They had always assumed that all the events that led up to now were a mere coincidence, life just being its usual confusing self. It was not unusual for their partner to enter their shared home and demand things, bossing them around. They had assumed that it was the usual same old story. This didn’t change how they saw their partner and their relief that he was no longer in their life, but it changed their perception of Rollo. Had Rollo orchestrated their whole thing? Since when? For how long? Most importantly, for what? 
“Since we are in a church, I might as well confess. I have kept my eye on every single Fleur citizen since I became a priest, but I have kept my eye on you for months now. It’s hard for me to communicate with everyone, but not you [Reader]. Since I’ve been admiring you from a distance, I’ve come to love you. I love your person and your way of being. Your kindness, your truth, your struggles, everything about you I have come to love.” 
By now, [Reader] was up against the altar with Rollo standing in front of them. Both were illuminated by the remaining candles, his hand reached out to caress their cheek. 
“I’ve come to love everything about you, [Reader], even the parts that you aren’t aware of. I’ll remain to love them as well, for there is no one else.” 
“F-Father R-Rollo, I-!” 
He leaned closer to them, his piercing blue-green eyes staring into [Readers] fearful and confused ones. He placed a kiss on their lips, tilting their head back to get a better angle. Seconds passed before he lifted his lips from them, 
“. .And if you were to fall into sin, let it be by my hands.” 
Conflicted could not begin to describe it. The person they loved reciprocated their feelings, so much that they kissed at this very moment. Though logically speaking, Rollo had just admitted to orchestrating the whole thing. Who knew what was the truth and what was a lie? Did their partner move? Was it willingly? Most importantly, did it matter? Sure, maybe there was a time when logic was sound but that time wasn’t right now. Thinking with their heart, [Reader] kissed back. They shared a deep and sensual kiss that neither one dared to break. Rollo pushed his body up against [Reader], grinding into them. The altar luckily wasn’t too high, but there were small steps on either side that allowed them to effortlessly get on the altar. Rollo managed to push their back flat against the cold marbled table, 
“F-Father R-Rollo, are you sure? Y-you’re a man with a vow and-” 
“[Reader], I love you.” 
Their eyes widened once more at the confession and looking up, they weren’t meant with the Rollo they knew. He was no longer stoic and professional, this Rollo was vulnerable. His cheeks were flushed pink as he straddled [Reader’s] hips. His body loomed over theirs and his hands went to open their top. His eyes were glossed over with love and desire. [Reader’s] top was opened to expose their chest and his hands lightly touched their skin. His cold fingers trailed from their neck, chest, and lastly their nipples. Rollo let out a shaky sigh, 
“I love you. Let me worship you, with God as my witness let me prove my devotion to you. .” 
Rollo’s lips neared [Reader’s] and they exchanged a kiss. He lightly bit on their bottom lip, asking for permission to further taste them. A moan escaped [Reader] but they opened their mouth to allow his tongue inside. Rollo pressed himself further into [Reader], afraid to let go. Needing air, [Reader] placed their hands on his clothed chest, pushing against it. Releasing their lips, Rollo straightened but released a breathy moan. [Reader] could see the warmth spreading across his pale skin, but could also feel his growing bulge. Rollo began to lean back down but stopped when [Reader] went to open his top. He allowed them to strip him of his shirt, allowing his pale chest to be exposed. 
“I want to see you too, R-Rollo. . .” 
The tip of his ears turned pink at the comment. He leaned down to their neck, licking up and down. Nibbling and biting down to create hickeys. His lips trailed down, kissing the skin around the newly formed hickey and down to their chest. Moans spilled from both Rollo and [Reader], the pleasure shared between the two. His tongue swirled around their nipple, lightly biting and sucking on them. [Reader] tenderly held Rollo’s head as he worked on their chest. Shaky breaths echoed throughout the Cathedral. 
“F-Fuck. . R-Rollo-!” 
Rollo lifted himself from their chest and saw the bright pink/red circular marks all across their chest. 
“Not enough. . .it’s not e-enough. . “ 
Rollo leaned back down, kissing down to their navel area. His hands played with their bottoms, opening them agonizingly slow. He pulled them down their legs and he shifted back, making sure he could properly remove them. 
“F-Fuck, y-your sex. . .” 
Rollo’s shaky moans slipped out, he stared in awe at [Reader’s] aroused sex. He shifted back before nearing their sex and inhaling their scent. Rollo’s fingers carefully touched around, going to their most sensitive spot and circling his finger around. 
“R-Rollo…right there…feels good….” 
Rollo nodded, continuing to circle his finger. After a while he leaned down, placing his tongue on their sensitive spot. He licked around, replacing the movement of his finger, and began to lick up and down. [Reader] let out soft moans and breaths as he continued pleasuring them. He began to kiss, suck, lick, pinch, and stroke their sensitive bits. Rollo took a break to lick his fingers and pushed them against [Reader’s] hole. Lightly inserting a finger inside, feeling them clench around it. 
“Do you lust for me. . the same way I lust for you?” 
“ I-I’ve a-always wanted you-ngh!” 
Though Rollo wasn’t attending to their sex with his mouth, he was still reaching inside them with his fingers. Slipping a second finger to curl up against that soft spot inside them, pumping rhythmically. Rollo leaned back down, placing his mouth back on their sex. Rollo himself wasn’t too experienced, but based on their sounds, he knew more or so where to touch. His long slender fingers managed to reach thoroughly and the stimulation with his tongue was overwhelming.
“F-Fuck Rollo, g-gonna cum-!” 
Rollo continued to abuse their sex, giving them that final push needed to orgasm. Rollo’s face was drenched with drool and cum, but still managed to swallow everything that they released. He unbuttoned his pants, releasing his cock that was already leaking pre-cum. He wrapped his hands around it, stroking himself. 
“Can I-fuck! P-put it inside you. . .?” 
Rollo’s half-lidded eyes pleaded with [Reader’s], begging to fuck them.  [Reader] propped themself up with their elbow, sat up, and kissed him. Rollo leaned forward to reciprocate. They placed their hands on his cheeks and lightly caressed, 
“You may. . .but can I. .be on top?” 
Rollo softly nodded, letting [Reader] guide him to lie down on the altar instead. [Reader] went to stimulate his already hard dick, but wrapped their hands around it and jerk him, smearing his pre-cum around. They licked their fingers and trailed them down to their hole, lightly fingering themselves to adjust to his size. They scissored themself and when they were ready, hovered over his cock. They lowered themselves onto Rollo’s cock, clenching down on his dick. 
“F-Fuck you’re tight-!” 
Rollo threw his head back at the sensation and his hands reached to hold [Reader’s] hip. [Reader] stayed still to adjust to his size but after a while, began to move. Riding his cock, [Reader] threw their head back as breaths left them, their back slowly arching. Rollo thrust, matching their pace as well. One of his hands moved to their sex, stimulating it at the same pace. 
Aside from the candles, the moonlight entered the Cathedral through the stained glass. The hue of the deep blues and purples reflected off their skin, creating an almost angelic glow. Their moans and whines echoed throughout the church, Rollo’s back was on the altar and his body coated in sweat. His eyes glossed over with tears, looking over at [Reader] who fared the same. Their body was sweaty and warm, their movements were slowing with time. Rollo’s thrust became more erratic, reaching deeper into [Reader]. 
“I-I’m close-! F-Fuck, f-feels s-so good-! Rollo!” 
Mewls spilled out of [Reader]’s mouth. 
“M-Me too-! I-I love you! L-Love you so much! God, I love you so much, [Reader]!” 
“I l-love you too, R-Rollo-!” 
With their final declaration of love, [Reader] came all over Rollo and he came deep inside of them. Their deep breaths were heard throughout the cathedral. [Reader] slumped on top of Rollo with his cock still inside them. They nuzzled into Rollo’s neck, peppering light kisses. 
“Love you s’much, Rollo.” 
“I love you too. . .[Reader].” 
His arms wrapped around them, pressing them closer into him. They stayed like that for a while, before [Reader] perked up, looking at his face. 
“I-I do have a question though. . .did you know that I liked you?” 
Rollo looked down to see their curious gaze, he adverted his eyes with a blush staining his cheeks. 
“It. . .it wasn’t Father Pheobus in the Confessional. It. . .it was me. . .” 
[Readers] face fell, 
“S-SO I CONFESSED TO YOU?” 
[Reader] buried their face in his neck, Rollo let out a soft smile at their antics. 
“That you did. Though I am glad, without you confessing to me, this never would have happened.” 
Still buried in his neck, they mumbled a couple of words. 
“I love you. . .” 
Rollo, of course, said it back. He could hear their soft snores, they had passed out from exhaustion. Only one thought lay in his mind, there was no one else other than him that could preserve the purity within [Reader]. 
‘If hellfire must consume me, so be it. I will never let anyone else take you away from me. Your purity is for me to preserve and to taint, no one else.’ 
This was only the beginning of the tragic tell that would come about to Twisted Wonderland. The story of the righteous priest and judge who burned down Fleur City, all because of their desire for someone they could never truly have. 
A/N: So that was a long one. . .how we feeling? I don’t think I will ever write a part 2, sorry :(( UNLESS I get inspiration but I do want to write headcanons for him so maybe? That being said I will be posting another post that will talk about the future of this blog (I AM NOT LEAVING DW)! That being said, I want to thank my friends for helping me with this fic! Special mention to my friend who helped me confirm his personality for me (I love you Nova) and my other friend, who got horny thoughts when they went to church! :3 
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