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sorceresssundries · 8 months ago

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Heatwave

Pairing: Gale x Fem Tav

Summary: It is the final social event of the summer season, and Tav has dressed poorly for a festival in the midst of a heatwave. One-shot.

Warnings: Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Sweat-licking, Smut.

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Another smutty Austen inspired work with a bit of fluff! This time in a universe outside of BG3. There definitely seems to be a weather theme in these one-shots. Maybe they'll fuck in the snow next, who knows?

The Festival of Shieldmeet had dominated conversations throughout the city all summer long. With the event occurring only once every four years, the anticipation had reached a fever pitch, rendering even the sweltering heatwave a minor inconvenience. The idea of postponing or, heaven forbid, cancelling such a revered social event due to something as minor as the weather was simply inconceivable.

The festival was being held in the sprawling grounds belonging to some Lord or Lady who had earned the privilege of hosting. In the heart of a large, manicured, bloom-laden garden stood a bandstand where bards were tuning their instruments, ready to serenade the guests with summer melodies. Alongside it stretched a long table adorned with dishes piled high with the richest Waterdhavian delicacies. Attendants in crisp uniforms weaved through the crowds, bearing trays laden with sparkling drinks in tall glasses, as well as refreshing juices and icy water. There also seemed to be tables scattered around with trays stacked with rolled up flannels sitting in ice, patiently waiting to be scooped up and dabbed at the forehead of the sweltering guests - These seemed to be a welcome addition, as there was scarcely any shade to be found anywhere.

Tav found herself in a state of utter misery. Seeking solace from the stifling crowds, she had retreated to the embrace of the shade beneath an oak tree bordering the garden, where she fervently fanned herself out of sight. She had naively and desperately assumed that the shade would cool her, but despite the protection from the sun’s direct attention the air was still just as cloying, and squeezed her with suffocating stillness. What she wouldn’t give for even the whisper of a breeze. The sad little paper fan she had acquired was doing very little work for her, just pushing the warmth forwards and heating her even further in her efforts to keep it moving.

For some inexplicable reason she couldn't recall, she had chosen to don her finest silk gown over a whalebone corset. It hugged her curves with an unforgiving grip, accentuating her form and lifting her breasts. With a smile as wide as her hips, she had admired herself in the mirror before departing. However, that smile faded the moment she stepped out of her cooled carriage and into the searing heat of the midday sun. She had immediately noticed the guests dressed in garments far more suited to the occasion than her own.

What a foolish notion this had been, she mused, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. She had no idea what had driven this madness. Well.. she thought as she peeked out from behind the tree and across at the crowd gathered in the garden, maybe she had a slight idea.

Gale Dekarios was an exceptionally handsome man who exuded infuriating arrogance, boundless pride, and endless charm. From their first encounter at the spring ball, he had claimed her attention at every subsequent event. She had ‘accidentally’ stepped on his foot during one of their early dances, after he had explained to her his proficiency with magic and his gallant willingness to at least try and teach her some of his simpler spells. He had laughed at her annoyance, apologised profusely, and kissed her hand at the end of the evening. She had been aflame ever since.

Throughout the season, they had fallen into a familiar routine. Their ritual involved stealing glances at one another, offering subtle gestures of acknowledgment, and then both making a concerted effort not to meet eyes again. Yet, inevitably, one of them would find themselves drawn towards the other. It was a dance of restraint, leaving Tav exhilarated each time, despite the exhausting choreography. She was never really sure who was leading the dance, but at this moment, sweating and flustered and hiding behind a tree, Tav decided it probably wasn’t her.

As each evening would draw to a close, he would always bid her goodnight with a kiss upon her hand, each time lingering longer than the last, and tell her how much he was looking forward to their next meeting. Upon returning home, Tav would often find herself lost in fantasies, imagining his hand tangled in her hair, his lips tracing the curves of her body. More often than not, these night-time reveries ended with her own desperate touch and his name cried out from her lips.

In the privacy of sweet slumber, she would dream of their next encounter, eagerly anticipating another opportunity to engage in their dance and hoping to step on his feet once more.

Maybe she had more magic in her than she realised, as her very thoughts appeared to have summoned him to her hiding place.

“Ah, Miss Taventon. I thought I spotted you retreating all the way out here.” He greeted her with his customary charm. As always, he was a vision to behold, with his dark, mischievously glinting eyes and sweeping brown locks pulled back from his face. Clad in simple yet impeccably tailored attire—a snug waistcoat over a pristine white shirt, adorned with a luxurious silken cravat, and well-fitted breeches. Frustratingly, he looked completely unaffected by the blistering warmth, and Tav thought she must look like a sweating, breathless fool in comparison. She only had time to be embarrassed momentarily, before she realised the precarious nature of their situation. For the first time, they were properly alone together and Tav blushed at the thought of being found with him behind a tree so far away from the party. There would be a scandal.

“Mr. Dekarios, a pleasure.” She looked around to try and see if anyone would catch them in their compromising seclusion, but it appeared they were safe for now. “I’m afraid you’ve caught me a little affected by the heat. I was just after a moment of respite.” She began to fan herself more fervently.

“Understandable, I'm sure. For one not versed in magic.” His smugness had returned, and Tav always treated it as a welcome challenge.

“Well, not all of us are as exceptional as you” She batted her eyelashes at him sweetly and took in his cool, handsome appearance. “Let me guess, enchanted clothing?” He bowed his head in confirmation of her appraisal, still looking smug and annoyingly unflustered by the heat. “A shame it could not chill your ego, but alas, I suppose your talent has to end somewhere.”

His smile in return was genuine. He very much enjoyed her banter. Almost as much as he enjoyed seeing her sweating under the shade of the giant oak tree.

He raised a hand in mock defeat. “Peace, my lady. I came bearing a gift. In an effort to cool your skin, and perhaps even your temper.” She really was ravishing in this state, he thought, overheated and fiery. He wondered whether she was aware of his true intentions in seeking her out. It was the final event of the summer season, and as such, their elaborate game would have to come to an end.

As she reached out to accept the cool towel he offered, a surge of boldness seized him. With a swift motion, he closed the distance between them until he was almost pressed against her, and with a tender touch, he placed the cold flannel against the side of her neck. He had hoped it would elicit a reaction from her, at the very least a small gasp of surprise, but she remained silent. She just watched him as the droplets from the towel trailed slow down her neck, caressing her collarbone in the way his fingers ached to, and gathering to rest glistening on the shelf of her breasts which had been pushed up by her corset.

He had thoughts of ripping it off her. The silk of her dress would tear like tissue in his practised hands, and he would cast the tatters of it into the wind and spend an entire afternoon finding where the pools of her sweat gathered. He ached to know what undergarments she was wearing, what colour, how the material would taste if he pressed his tongue against. It. He hoped it was white cotton, something the scent and taste of her would cling to - so damp with sweat and desire that he would be able to see her dark curls through the material.

He could feel the cooling enchantment wrapped round him waning as his concentration and resolve were tested. Damn heat. Damn woman. She knew exactly what she was doing. Who wears a silk-wrapped corset in a heatwave? Each bead of sweat and whisper of her heated musk was a siren’s call, and he was determined to drown himself in the ocean of her.

“I am no expert in fashion, Miss Taventon, but I must question the decision to wear a silk gown in such conditions. Surely linen, or cotton would have been preferable? Or maybe one enjoys the sensations brought on by basking in such stifling heat?” His tone was more frustrated than he meant it to be.

“I thought it would be light and cooling, Saer. Not all of us are gifted with the ability to enchant our clothing.” She narrowed her eyes at him, and wondered if every item he was wearing was enchanted.. She quickly snapped out of her musings “An unfortunate error on my part, I hadn’t taken into account the lack of breeze, or the…”

“Stickiness?” He said, focusing intently on dabbing her neck and chest with the flannel and not meeting her eyes.

“The humidity. Yes.”

He took a break from his attentions and discarded the flannel, to take a leisurely sip of his drink. The droplets of condensation cascaded down the glass like tiny beads of sweat. Tav couldn't help but watch, a pang of envy stirring within her as she observed the icy water slip downwards and through his fingers. There was too much electric heat here, strung out in the very air, no amount of cool water would save her. She needed to be swathed by him, to smother the flames until they burnt out into ash. Even then, she was certain there would be embers enough to fan back to roaring flame at just one breathy word from him. She was doomed kindling.

The soft clink of ice against glass filled the air as he drank, his gaze never wavering from hers. With intent, he parted his lips slightly, allowing a single ice cube to slide into his mouth. She couldn't tear her eyes away as he savoured it, rolling it around his mouth with his tongue.

“Most refreshing.” He breathed, after a long, heavy swallow, “Could I tempt you with a sip?”

“I..Maybe.. This heat has caused quite a desperate thirst. Although I notice you have only brought one glass. How impolite of you” She dropped her fan to the ground in vexation, stupid thing was not doing anything to help. There was no saving her now.

He smirked and bowed his head slightly. “Not to worry, dear lady.” His eyes darkened and his voice became a heated command. “Open your mouth for me”

At first there was shock, but then without question she did as she was told, like a girl entranced. With a deft movement of his fingers, he plucked another ice cube from his glass and placed it delicately on her waiting tongue.

Tav saw a chance and took it.

Before he could withdraw his hand, she wrapped her fingers around his wrist, and the surprise in his eyes lit her like a firework. She burned for these moments, for any slip in his resolve, any evidence behind the refinery and politeness that there were things she could do that would shock him. If there was a crack in his armour, she would slip in like water and drown him in sin.

Locking eyes with him, she held his gaze steady as she took control. With a boldness she hadn't known she possessed, she leaned forward and enveloped his fingers in her mouth, sucking gently and letting the ice cube melt against her tongue in a sweet rush of cold. It was a calculated move, a daring play, and as she released his hand, a flicker of satisfaction fluttered in her eyes. The game was afoot, and she was changing the rules.

She let go of his fingers, and smiled innocently. “How right you are as always, Mr.Dekarios. Most refreshing.” She lilted, still sucking on the remnants of the ice in her mouth.

He had suddenly lost his footing. The blood that was keeping him focused and leading their little game had suddenly re-routed elsewhere, and he was struggling to compose thoughts. He had no words, so actions would have to do.

He drew closer to her, the space between them shrinking, and he reached out his hand to trace a delicate path from the warmth of her flushed cheek, along the elegant curve of her jaw, down to the hollow of her throat. There, just above the gentle rise and fall of her bosom, he noticed a glistening bead of sweat, which he captured with his fingertip. Bringing it to his lips, he savoured it, and made a noise of growling satisfaction. Her breath hitched beautifully in response.

"It appears you're still uncomfortably warm. I'd hardly be a gentleman if I allowed you to suffer like this." With a languid sip of his drink, he popped another ice cube into his mouth.

“You are no…”

He aimed to catch off guard before she could finish. He closed what little gap was left between them and all playfulness burned away in the heat, leaving nothing but desperation. Fuck games, fuck dancing around each other, and fuck that ridiculous silk dress she was wearing. She had won their game, and her prize would be for him to take her the way he had been wanting to for the entire summer.

His glass fell to the ground with no thought at all, and he grabbed at her waist. Pushing her back against the tree and pinning her there with a leg between her thighs. He finally earned a gasp of surprise from her, as he pushed his lips against her throat, and pressed the ice cube against her pulsing skin with his tongue.

The noise she made was tantalisingly balanced between relief and desire, and he kept the ice firmly against her as he moved it further down her neck, mimicking the trail of sweat his finger had traced earlier. He delighted in the way her skin prickled as the ice caressed her. She was divine. He wanted to tease her until she lost all of her brazen stares and cutting banter, and all that was left was a puddle of a woman. He wanted to undo her the way he would her clothes, and watch her fall apart under his hands, his tongue, the push of his hips…

"Someone... Will..." Her voice came out in gasping pleas as he continued caressing her with the ice. "Find us..." He needed to remove that damn corset soon; restricted breathing wasn't conducive to the way he wanted to hear her cry out for him— completely unbound. A fleeting desire crossed his mind to restrain her in other ways, at other times. But for now, he simply needed to see how the heat had flushed her body, with as little material between them as possible.

“You think I would allow anyone else to see you like this? I am not a man who shares his treasure.” His cocky little grin made a slight reappearance as he pulled his lips away from her damp skin to meet her eyes and offer some cooling sincerity. “A spell has been cast, no one will see nor hear us. You are safe with me, my dream. Always.”

He lost himself to a moment of softness, and caressed her face with total adoration.

“I have craved the taste of you all summer. The sun itself could not burn me in the way you have. I am a scorch mark, I am the cindered ashes of all restraint. You are my sun. And no one else will gaze upon you the way I will.”

There was no response adequate to match the sudden delicacy of his words, leaving Tav momentarily speechless. In that fleeting moment of enraptured, adoring silence, Gale misunderstood her reaction, his beautiful face falling with concern, fearing he had unwittingly caused her distress.

“Tell me you do not desire me, that this soft heat inflaming you is not at least partly caused by your feelings for me. Tell me I have imagined your eyes searching for me, your playful need for my hands on you as we dance, and I will leave it at this. I will have spent a summer loving you, and it will have been the brightest and warmest of all my seasons.”

He loved her. The air suddenly felt lighter. He was the breeze she had been craving.

Her bright smile cracked through the initial shock of his confession, and relief swept over him like a tide. “I know you have a vivid imagination, Mr. Dekarios. But put it away, it is not needed here. I have attended each event only in the hope of being in your presence. It seems we both have had a summer well spent.” She kissed him then; sweetly, lovingly and he laughed enough for the crinkles between his eyes to appear.

It did not take long for the damned dress to be torn from the skin of her sweat-slicked body. For the corset to be ripped from its bindings. For the softness of her breasts to find their place against his tongue, nipples peaking as though the heat didn’t exist, his hot breath and cool tongue creating a heady mix of magic which made her skin sing.

Tomorrow, there would be rough marks on her back from the bark of the tree - but for now the slight pain only added to the overwhelming sensations which crawled their way over her body, her sweat mingling with his as he tore off his shirt and pressed himself against her. Caging her against the trunk. His skin was cool against hers, and steam danced between them as though melted steel was being forged by cool water. He was hard, she could feel it.

His tongue flattened at her skin of her neck and her breasts, and licked away the lust-induced sweat his affection had caused. The fresh, salty taste may as way have been laced with liquor for the effect it was having on him. She tasted of sweet wine with the faint hint of salt. It was subtle, but he needed something richer. His attention moved downwards, and It was not long till he reached that most sacred place, where he had been aching to lose himself in scent and taste. He took his time and inhaled her. Using his nose to caress her sweet spot as he relished in the full-bodied flavour of her.

As soon as his mouth began lavishing her, she realised he had somehow extended the cooling enchantment to his tongue. Her head was thrown back against the tree in ecstasy, the press of his mouth against her quickly becoming too much for her to handle. There was a brief moment of self-consciousness, where she worried about how the heat of the day would affect her taste. But the worry was soon lost, the thought drowned out by the sound of his appreciation and the realisation that he was stroking himself as he devoured her.

He was dedicated in his endeavour, although no amount of skin-tingling magic would be able to balm the fire coursing through her veins. She thought she would never cool, that she would be a woman on fire for the rest of her love-fuelled days. The sensation was mesmeric, and she could not remember a sweeter sensation than this man on his knees in front of her, face buried between her legs and using his tongue to caress her with such enthusiasm she felt as though she would fall apart. And fall apart she did. It was euphoric, and her hands gripped his hair fiercely as she crashed over rocks in reckless pleasure.

When he came back up to meet her he was breathless and lust-drunk, giddy as a school-boy and stoked as a bonfire. “There has never been a sweeter taste than you, my love.” He kissed her then, languidly, passionately - intent on sharing the riches of his exploration. Tav could taste herself in his kiss. They may as well have been sharing wine between their lips.

“If you don’t fuck me soon, Gale, I swear I will combust.”

He laughed at this. At the desperation, at the slight annoyance in her voice, at the fact this was the first time she had ever said his given name and she had thrown it at him as a demand to push her against the tree and bury himself inside her. What a woman.

He needed no further invitation; shedding the confines of his breeches, he pressed himself slowly into her warmth, and she made the most delicious groaning sound he had ever heard. This woman could drive him to madness, and thankfully he was aware that his earlier attentions ensured he need not be overly gentle. Knowing that his endurance would be short-lived, thanks to the fervour he had stoked within himself while bringing her to climax against his tongue, he abandoned all pretense of restraint. Together they were primal, the tension that had been building between them releasing in pure, carnal desire.

Though a gentleman might have exercised more self-control, such decorum was a luxury he couldn't afford in the presence of such irresistible temptation. Stripped of his clothes, he found himself as vulnerable to the unrelenting heat of the day as Tav, and soon, his focused, determined passion ignited a sheen of sweat upon his skin.

Tav’s payback could not have been any sweeter, as soon as she noticed the sweat trickling down his neck she took her chance and licked it from his bronzed, silken skin. His response was a delicious, low moan and his rhythm faltered into something more urgent, unbound. His grip tightening, one of his hands found its way to rest gently against her throat so he could feel the deep moans rumbling against his palm as he fucked her.

“I love you” She breathed. And that’s all it takes. He is suddenly hurtling over a precipice and into sweet, tight oblivion.

They both collapse onto the ground, sweaty, burnt-out, euphoric. And they fall into uninhibited laughter as they realise they can hear the band playing a jaunty tune in the distance, and the chatter of the ever-growing crowd is closer than they initially thought.

“You are still hidden from prying eyes, my dream.” Gale offered reassurance as he kissed her head. “And I will conjure up some suitable clothing for you, don’t worry.”

“That is most generous of you Saer, but please - by the Gods, no corset and no silk.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 smut #gale dekarios #gale fanfic #gale x tav #gale of waterdeep

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extremely-judgemental · 1 month ago

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Forget the title. I still can't get over Archeron sisters, who were mortals only months ago and didn't know shit about faerie lands, as High Lady to rule centuries old immortals.

Nesta shows some promise since she was trained in politics so that she could marry a prince one day, and learns about Prythian history from Amren. Still, let's face it. She hasn't accepted the fae life completely.

Feyre can't even find the borders of her city if she couldn't winnow. She knows nothing about Prythian or politics. Every court she visits becomes her enemy. She's a soldier at best and she is exactly that only with a fancy title.

And Elain? She can't even be a gardener in Prythian. She doesn't even know what kind of plants grow in the magic lands and you want her to rule Spring? She went comatose when her fiance rejected her and didn't even check on her sisters who were in a fucking battle. You expect the welfare of the people to depend on her? Come on.

#sjm has successfully brainwashed everyone to thinking ruling is equivalent to dressing pretty and seducing men #what happened to critical thinking #acotar critical #sjm critical #feyre critical #elain critical

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areislol · 4 months ago

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life as a monarch isn't easy, of course, but with a needy and infatuated concubine on top, it just makes your life and duties far more difficult than they need to be.

infatuated! chen liu, your favoured concubine, is a constant presence in your life. draped in the finest silks and adorned with gold ornaments, he’s the very picture of elegance—and perhaps a bit too spoiled.

his adoration for you is unmistakable, bordering on obsession, and it often complicates your already demanding responsibilities as a ruler.

he always follows you around wherever you are, his doe eyes filled with longing whenever you’re out of sight for too long. he’s ecstatic when you ask for him to accompany you, whether it's a simple walk through the gardens or a more formal event.

chen liu can’t stand the thought of sharing your time, let alone your affections. he pouts when you visit other palaces, pressing his lips to your ankle in a silent plea for reassurance. the more you distance yourself, the more insistent he becomes, his jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.

despite this, you find it hard to reprimand him harshly. you know he would throw a tantrum if he could, but he’s careful not to embarrass you in public.

the tension between your duties and chen liu’s constant need for your presence grows more apparent. you’re often preoccupied with matters of state—diplomatic meetings, strategies to strengthen the kingdom, and managing the delicate balance of power among the nobles.

yet, every time you return to your chambers, you’re greeted by the sight of chen liu, waiting anxiously for a moment of your time.

he’s there when you wake up, his eyes lighting up the moment you acknowledge him. he’s by your side during meals, though his gaze is often fixated on you rather than the food. and in the evenings, he lingers near your quarters, hoping for an invitation to spend the night with you.

the other concubines are aware of his favoured status, and while they dare not voice their jealousy, you can sense the unease it creates. chen liu, however, seems oblivious to this, entirely focused on you.

but lately, his behaviour has started to concern you. he’s become more possessive, subtly questioning you about your visits to other palaces. his tone, once playful and adoring, now carries an undercurrent of fear—fear that you might one day choose someone else over him.

currently, you sat at your desk, surrounded by scrolls, letters, and missives as the morning sun streamed through the tall windows of your private chambers, casting a golden light across the finely woven tapestries and marble floors.

being a monarch was no simple task. today, like every day, you balanced the needs of your kingdom with the politics of foreign palaces, trying to secure alliances and maintain peace.

as you read through a letter from a neighbouring royal house, a soft knock came at the door. without needing to look up, you knew who it was—chen liu.

"enter," you called, your voice steady but distracted.

chen liu stepped into the room, dressed in his usual elegant robes of rich silk. his movements were graceful, but you could sense the tension in the way he carried himself.

he always exuded poise, but there was something in his demeanour today that seemed... off. you knew why, of course. chen liu did not enjoy sharing your attention, especially when that attention was given to other royals, diplomats, or anyone who took time away from him.

"your highness," he said softly, coming to stand beside your desk. His eyes flicked over the scrolls, his lips pressing into a thin line before quickly returning to his usual soft expression. "allow me to bring you some tea."

you smiled, though your eyes remained on the parchment in front of you. "thank you, chen liu. tea would be nice."

He bowed his head, his silky raven-coloured hair cascading in silky waves, framing a face that was both delicate and striking, an eye candy that drew attention effortlessly as he turned to fetch the tea. the room was quiet again, but you could feel his silent frustration in the air.

chen liu never voiced his jealousy, never acted out, especially not in public, but you knew him well enough to recognise the small signs: the way his jaw tightened when you spoke of foreign dignitaries, the way his hands lingered a little longer when he served you as if trying to reclaim your focus.

when he returned with the tea, he poured it with the same careful elegance he always did, setting the cup before you. you took a sip, grateful for the warmth, but you couldn’t ignore the quiet tension.

"you’ve been distracted lately," he said softly, standing beside you, his fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the desk. "so many letters, so many meetings. your attention is always... elsewhere."

you paused, setting the cup down and finally looking up at him. his expression was calm, but his dark eyes held a sadness, a quiet frustration.

“you’ve been visiting the phoenix feather abode often,” he remarks one evening, his voice tinged with unease. he’s kneeling at your feet now—something he grew fond of doing—his fingers lightly brushing against your robes as if seeking to anchor himself to you.

“is there someone there who’s captured your interest?”

you sigh, not again.

“my duties require me to visit all the palaces,” you explain gently, hoping to ease his mind. “it’s not a matter of preference, chen liu.”

but he remains unconvinced, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. “then why have you not visited me as often?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “have i done something to displease you?”

you can visibly see how his brows furrow, the fear that he’s losing his place in your heart. it’s a delicate situation, one that requires careful handling. you reach out, lifting his chin so that he meets your gaze directly.

"you could never displease me, liu," you assured him, "you are my most cherished companion, but i cannot let my personal desires interfere with the needs of the kingdom."

chen liu knows that, he knows that there's no one else in the world who could make you as happy as he could, who could satisfy you, who could meet your needs. but even so, he wishes you could just focus on him even if it was a couple of minutes.

his fingers tightened around the hem of your robe, his eyes filled with desperation. "your majesty," he murmured, his voice trembling, "please, just a moment of your time. i need you... i need your touch."

you could feel the intensity of his need as he clung to you, his gaze pleading. it was clear that his heart ached with the absence of your presence, with a sigh, you gently pried his fingers from your robe, your touch tender despite the firm resolve in your voice.

"chen liu," you began softly, "i understand your worries, but... please understand, my duties require me to be away. the alliances and meetings are absolutely crucial for the stability of the kingdom."

his eyes glistened with unshed tears, and he took a shaky breath, trying to compose himself. "i know, your majesty. it's just that... every day, it feels like I'm losing a piece of you. the time we used to share seems like a distant memory."

he knows the way he's acting right now is childish. he was a concubine, your concubine, not a lover.

liu's patience seemed to wear thin as he gripped your robe with frustration, his earlier submissive demeanour subsiding. "you know i don't like it when you pay attention to anyone other than me," he murmured, his teeth gritting with irritation.

his eyes, once filled with pleading, now sparkled with a challenging glint. "why bother going to see those men? you have me."

"it's not fair, you know. you spend so much time with them, making deals and alliances, while i'm left here, waiting for scraps of your attention. do i mean so little to you now?"

your eyes widened slightly at the shift in his tone. his behaviour caught you off guard, although you weren't all that surprised by his brattiness. he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as if to shield himself from the reality of your obligations.

"i will not discuss this any further," you said firmly, your tone brooking no argument. "feel free to stay and be silent or leave."

chen liu's eyes widened at the finality in your voice, a mix of defiance and hurt flickering across his face. he took a deep, shaky breath, his posture shifting as he grappled with his emotions.

he hesitated, glancing around the room with an air of uncertainty. the room, filled with the soft glow of lanterns and the muted colours of opulent silks, suddenly felt colder to him.

he lowered his gaze, a sign of both surrender and submission. "i apologise," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "i'll stay."

chen liu remained at his spot beside your legs, his earlier brattiness replaced by a sulking silence.

you watched him for a moment, your heart heavy with the knowledge that the distance between you had grown despite your best efforts. turning back to your paperwork, you felt a pang of sadness, but what else could you do?

as you continued with your tasks, you cast occasional glances at your concubine. despite his silent brooding, he stayed put, and before you both knew it, hours passed, and as the day drew to a close, you finally set aside your work.

the room was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, casting long shadows across the floor. you turned to find chen liu still there, his eyes fighting hard to stay open.

with a sigh, you reached out your hand, beckoning him closer. he wasted no second, rising to his feet and standing up. his fingers brushed against yours, and for the first time that day, you allowed yourself to let go of your burdens, if only for a moment.

"come," you said softly, pulling him into your embrace. "you’ve waited long enough."

his arms wrapped around you tightly, his head resting against your shoulder as if he feared you might slip away again.

for tonight, you could afford to forget the world outside. for tonight, chen liu would be your world, just as fate wished for you two to be.

and as you held him, his grip tightened, just slightly, silently promising that he’d never let you go, no matter what.

#yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere concubine x reader #yandere imagines #—✧ · . yandere oc

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sanarsi · 4 months ago

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Gardens of Eden

Din Djarin x goddess!f!Reader

Summary: Another bounty hunt goes wrong when he comes across a creature whose influence changes his view of everything. Warnings: +18, MDNI, mention of using weapon, goddess!immortal!reader, reader has long hair which can change colour (you will understand), sub!Din (by reader’s power), unprotected PIV, loving sex, soft!dom!Din, creampie Wordcount: 3,4k An: First shot with my fav Pedro boy. For a long time I resisted writing something with him because I thought it had to be perfect. Din is my first love, that's why he and my fav band together create a mind-blowing mix for me. Sooo hold my beer bc I’m just getting started ;) Music I worked with: Take Me Back To Eden - Sleep Token

Masterlist

He had never been in a place like this, a planet full of greenery and colorful flowers like something out of a story about what paradise could look like.

As a bounty hunter, he had been in places that were more look like hell. It was rare for his bounties to be in places like this. The energy that reigned around made it easy to fall into a sense of security, but he knew better than to allow himself to have false feelings.

The transmitter in his hand flashed more frequently, assuring him that he was well on the way to target. His finger rested on the blaster trigger, ready to disarm his opponent if necessary.

His careful steps prevented the slightest sound, giving him the opportunity to create a surprise effect. The quiet chirping of birds echoed in the background, and wild animals fled in panic, sensing danger.

Everything here seemed peaceful, unlike what was happening elsewhere in the galaxy. The dense forest barely let in the rays of the three suns shining high in the sky, yet everything was bright.

The tracker blinked harder, catching his attention, the red light letting him know that his target was within reach.

He looked ahead, putting the device in his pocket and took a few cautious steps before he spotted a clearing ending the forest border.

The birdsong was drowned out by the increasingly distinct sounds of running water. He stopped behind one of the trees and slowly began to look around the exposed area. With the trigger of his blaster, he moved a few leaves blocking his view and then his gaze fell on you.

You were sitting on a large rock by the stream, giggling as you dipped your hand in the water. Your long white hair blindingly reflected the sun's rays and the translucent white material of your dress flowed down your body.

You looked like a living example of innocence.

Din couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way you gracefully moved your fingers across the surface of the water, sitting completely unaware of the threat that he was.

A gentle smile adorned your face, adding to your charm, and he had to admit that he hadn’t seen such a beautiful sight in a long time.

He had seen a lot in his life but he had never experienced such conflicting emotions as you had stirred in him. He knew very well that appearances were deceptive and you could have turned out to be the worst thing he had to fight so far but he simply couldn’t…

He couldn’t shake this strange feeling that he had stumbled upon something beautiful, innocent and flawlessly good. As if some greater power was letting him know that he even shouldn’t have aimed a gun at you.

He stepped forward to get a better view of you, but as it turned out, it was a bad decision.

A dry branch snapped under his weight, piercing the space like a shot. Everything around fell silent as you straightened like a string and looked in his direction. His heart stopped for a moment as he looked into your eyes and saw fear in them.

He cursed himself in mind and slowly walked out from behind the trees, spreading his arms to show that he meant no harm.

Unfortunately, your reaction was the opposite of what he wanted to achieve.

Your hair changed color from shiny white to blacker than the forgotten ends of space in a second. He watched this in shock, slowly approaching you and to his surprise, you didn’t move an inch.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, and to confirm his words, he slowly put the blaster behind his belt. You didnkt even notice, continuing to stare into his black visor, and even though he was wearing a helmet and thick armor, he felt naked under your gaze. “Please,” he added more gently.

His words didn’t work.

The blackness of your hair seemed to only deepen with each step he took. He didn’t know where the feeling of desperation had come from in his body, for you to trust, that he didn’t have bad intentions towards you; or at least not anymore. And it was this desperation that made him fall to his knees a few steps away from you.

Surprisingly, it did just that, your hair lightened a few shades, matching the greynes of his beskar. Your watchful gaze began to examine every inch of his body as if you were assessing the threat he posed to you.

“You’re a bounty hunter,” you noted.

Your voice didn’t match your appearance at all, sharp and commanding, as if you had lived much more than he had. As if you had lived centuries.

“I am,” he confirmed, feeling deep in his bones that trying to deceive you was purposeful. His honesty made your hair lighten a bit and your eyes filled with interest.

“And yet, you don’t want to hurt me.” You raised an eyebrow, wanting to let him know how absurd his words sounded.

“I don’t,” he replied without a moment’s hesitation.

He didnkt know if it surprised you or him more, after all, he had come here for one purpose and he had the impression that you knew it very well.

His answers were short and honest, giving a sense of sincerity but even that didn’t seem to convince you.

“So why are you in full armor and armed?” you asked even though you knew the answer. This wasn’t the first bounty hunter or even Mandalorian with whom you had the pleasure to dealt with.

“It’s part of my culture.”

Yes, you’ve heard that answer before.

“Indeed,” you nodded thoughtfully, your gaze dropping to the shiny beskar again. You had never seen a hunter who looked as majestic as he did, which made you interested in him even more.

Din watched as you finally flinched to look at him from a different perspective, your hair getting closer to its original color with every passing second.

“I can’t trust you.”

Your gaze met his again as if there was no helmet on his head at all.

Your words were completely justified and yet, there was a tightness in his chest that made him realize how much he wanted— no, needed you to change your mind.

Before he could say anything, you stood up from the stone and slowly walked over to him. The sheer material of your dress gave him a perfect view of your entire body, but his gaze was still fixed on your eyes.

“Stand,” you said and there was no room in your tone for his protest.

He obediently rose from his knees, forcing you to look up as he now towered over you.

“I don’t trust you,” you declared, plunging another dagger into his chest. Your sharp gaze made him understand that he was too weak to let you stab again.

“Then make me earn your trust,” he said it confidently and really meant it. He was willing to go as far as he had to.

His words hung between you, finally letting the birdsong and the rush of the stream reach your ears.

The grey slowly began to give way to white with each passing second as you thought about his words and what was behind them.

“I exist beyond any religion.”

These words should have caused a red light to go off in his head, but nothing like that happened. Instead of common sense and the Laws of the Way, a small flame appeared in his body, drawing him towards you. There was nothing in your look that could suggest that you wanted to force him to do something, on the contrary, you were giving him the opportunity to leave.

But the seconds passed and he still stood there, worse, he nodded, giving you a sign that he had made a decision. A decision that start the downfall of his beliefs.

“Your way does not lead here, Mandalorian,” you said as if he didn’t know.

But he did. Better than anyone before him.

But that worry died faster than it appeared the moment your hands found their way to his armor. Despite the beskar separating you, he could have sworn he felt your burning touch.

Your attention focused on the clasps of each protector that you slowly pulled off of him and Din couldn’t do anything but watch your face as if hypnotized.

You carefully placed each piece on the grass, showing his armor the respect he was grateful for.

A sharp intake of breath sounded through his modulator as you knelt before him to remove the protectors from his thighs. The sight was definitely too stimulating for him, and you could see his cock smacking the material of his pants. You didn’t comment on it, but to his surprise, you leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his bulge. A shameful groan escaped his throat as his dick twitched, eager for your closeness.

You straightened up, leaving him in just his clothes and helmet. Your gaze didn’t meet his as you continued to work on each clasp, revealing his arms, chest, stomach, legs, every part of him that was decorated with scars.

“Will you tell me their story?” you asked, running your fingertips over the wound on his right chest.

Shivers ran through his body at your gentle touch.

“Each one of them,” he blurted out on a ragged breath.

His answer brought a gentle smile to your face, and he didn’t miss the way your hair flashed white again. You felt good again. Safe.

He wanted to ask about it, but as the words formed on his tongue, a dozen other questions suddenly appeared so he just kept quiet. He preferred to blame it on his own flood of thoughts rather than the fact that your gaze was rendering him speechless.

The sparkle in your eyes seemed even brighter than your snow-white hair. For a moment he lost his breath and then he twitched anxiously, feeling your hands on the edge of his helmet.

You waited.

One second, two, but there was no sign of resignation from him, so you continued.

The fresh air brushed his cheeks and then his hair, bringing a strange feeling of relief. He didn’t expect this after he willingly let his helmet be taken off. He expected negative emotions, anger at himself and his tormentor. But when he saw you without any barriers, he couldn’t feel anything but desire.

His dark eyes, dressed in small wrinkles, radiated with warmth but also emptiness.

He seemed lost, not in an endless galaxy but in his own mind.

A curved nose that hid a thin lips surrounded by the same dark stubble as his irises. To that, messy hair from constantly hiding his identity from the world.

He was beautiful. Wounded by life but beautiful.

“You look tired,” you said sympathetically, lifting a hand to stroke his stubbled jaw.

He let out a shaky breath as he felt you.

Like— he really felt you.

His eyes closed on their own and his head tilted, clinging to your hand. His mind barely reached the memory of the last time someone had been this close with him. And he had to admit it felt good. The closeness of another person was so rare for him that he forgot how addictive it was.

You allowed him a moment of tenderness that he needed after so many years of loneliness and watched with affection as he snuggled into your touch.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he almost purred with pleasure.

“Will you let me to show you more?” you asked.

His hand covered yours before he began to place soft kisses on the palm of it. He didn’t even know how to describe what he was feeling; desire was too weak a word.

He felt hungry.

And that hunger seemed to keep growing.

The rough stubble irritated your skin and the soft lips brought relief. Every inch of his skin screamed for your attention. You saw how broken he was deep inside, how much he needed what you could give him.

“Please,” he moaned desperately.

“Then kiss me.”

That command made his gaze fall back to your face. He seemed in disbelief, searching for something that doesn’t exist. He found nothing in your eyes that could suggest the opposite of your words.

He didn’t need anything more.

His hands landed on your jaw, holding you hardly as his lips crushed yours even harder. You moaned, not expecting the force he used. He didn’t hold back, couldn’t hold back, allowing himself to drown in the moment as he hungrily began to kiss you. His tongue quickly found yours, forcing you to submit to his guidance. This time, you were the one who began to melt under his touch.

You kissed him back, wanting to give him as much as he needed and even more.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Lay down,” he said, overcome with the need to claim you.

You shivered, looking at him like a defenseless animal. You backed away from him as much as he would let you, before he followed you like a shadow as you laid down on the grass.

His lips attacked yours again in a thirsty kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, trying to catch your breath with every chance he gave you because there weren’t many when his tongue didn’t want to stop caressing yours.

His large, warm hands slowly began to roam your body. Your dress was no barrier to feeling him as should.

He ran his fingertips over your breasts, teasing and bringing your nipples back to life. You moaned, thirsty for his attention in that place which he didn’t give you. Instead, he dug his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips. You wrapped your leg around his, pulling him closer to you.

His hard cock brushed against your core, making him hiss. He couldn’t hold back his instincts any longer, so with slightly too aggressive movements, he began to pull up the material of your dress, and only when it was all wrapped around your waist he was satisfied enough to pull away from you and look down between your bodies.

He was panting heavily from the kisses and allowed himself to stare at your temple for so long that you began to arch with desire. His cock quivered painfully at the thought of being inside you.

“Din,” you begged. His name on your lips sent a wave of shivers down his spine.

He looked at you, wondering how you knew his real name, but when he saw you, he was speechless again.

Your hair was lying around your head, and it wouldn’t have been strange if it wasn’t for the fact that it was now in a shade of light red.

“Please,” you moaned, digging your fingers deeper into his scalp. He couldn’t think straight seeing you like this, lying beneath him and craving his touch.

He wanted to give you what you needed, he wanted it so badly, but he was afraid that after so many years of celibacy he wouldn’t be able to satisfy you, and he really wanted to see you fall to pieces because of him.

“Cyar’ika…” he began hesitantly.

“Stop talking,” you cut him off, sliding your hands down his cheeks. “I want you inside me.” You pressed a kiss to his lips. “Just enter me,” you almost begged, feeling your core throb with desire.

So he did as you asked.

He positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed into you. He rested forehead against yours, overwhelmed, reveling in the warmth and wetness you greeted him with.

A feeling of bliss attacked all of his senses at once. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so good, like he was right where he was supposed to be, like he was home.

Your moans mingled as his cock sank fully inside you. He shuddered as you began to clench around him, wanting more.

“It feels so good,” he whispered, and with a groan, he began to gently move his hips. He didn’t want to leave your core for even a second, so he simply ground his hips against yours, constantly filling you all.

You shivered, digging your fingers into his shoulders at the constant feeling of stimulation. Your cunt throbbed around him like she never wanted to let him go.

“Yes, so good,” you moaned, overcome with pleasure that was building inside you. You hugged his arms tightly, surrendering yourself completely to his care.

The gentle movements he fed you with were more than perfect for you to feel what kind of man he really was. He needed someone to show him how to take care of each other and that’s what you wanted to give him today. His heavy breath was lost in your mouth which constantly showed him how good he made you feel; your kisses were everywhere.

He finally forced himself to watch the blissful expression on your face. You looked beautiful, overcome with pleasure, your eyes closed and your lips parted; but what fascinated him more, was the way your hair turned redder with each thrust of his hips. He focused on that and entered you harder noticing the color suddenly darken.

So he thrust again-harder.

You howled as you felt the traces of your orgasm begin to show in your core.

Din began to experiment, he entered you slowly and gently, and after a moment he plunged his cock into you with animal strength. Your hair gave him a show of different shades of red and he quickly understood how that magic had worked.

So he began to do everything to make your hair the reddest it could be, such as a color of blood.

He found the perfect pace and intensity with which he caressed your pussy until you cried out of pleasure under him. He felt as if he had unlocked a forbidden ability that allowed him to know what you felt.

Suddenly everything made sense; black when you were afraid, red when you felt pleasure.

And he had to admit that red suited you the best.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he gasped, clenching his jaw as the pleasure began to build in his core too.

Your hair began to flash like a transmitter that led him to you, letting him know that you were fighting against the last barriers that separated you from fulfillment.

“Come for me. I know you want to,” he whispered against your ear, sending the missing stimulus through your body. The orgasm overshadowed your senses and gave him a unique spectacle as your hair ignited like living fire. Your pussy began to throb on him and he couldn’t fight the pleasure you were pulling him into.

He growled, cumming inside you in several bursts until his balls were empty. The orgasm momentarily blurred his vision and left his body trembling. The experience of such an aegis after so many years was overwhelming for him.

He wasn’t experiencing his peak, almost panicking from the intensity of it but then your fingers had a grounding effect on him. The gentle touch of your hands brought him the desired feeling of stability.

He looked at you with a drunken gaze and the first thing he noticed was your warm smile, only later the delicate pink color of your hair.

Tenderness.

He found himself wanting to learn what each remaining color meant. He wanted to be present for everything so he could learn to read you like an open book.

His breathing slowly calmed down under your touch. You stroked his cheek, watching a million emotions that flew through his eyes. You were silent, allowing him to experience, understand, and accept his own emotions, something he didn’t experience often.

“What are you?” he finally asked the most important question. You smiled tenderly and pulled him into a gentle kiss.

This gesture ignited something inside him, making him realize that he would like to feel this every day when he woke up and fell asleep.

“I am everything.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin smut #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal smut #sanarsi fic

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brandwhorestarscream · 2 months ago

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TF1 Megatron and Optimus would be sooo petty with each other let's be so honest

Optimus says they're banished from Iacon. Interesting. Iacon has very clear city limits. Imagine Megatron and the high guard set up shop 2 feet away from said limit.

"I told you, you're banished-"

"Yeah, from Iacon. This isn't Iaocn."

"Wha-"

Prowl chimes in that, technically, he's correct. The spot where he's standing isn't part of Iacon. Megatron looks extremely smug as he announces that this is actually Kaon, the new decepticon capital, "If you set foot here, you're trespassing, and we will show no mercy."

Kaon develops rapidly (I hc in the early stages of Cybertron like this, now that energon is restored, you can just...... ask for a settlement and the planet will give you one. Primus doesn't want his children to be homeless), and is culturally very different from Iacon, built mostly upon old warframe traditions from days long past. They have new and interesting things Iacon has never seen/heard/dreamed of before, and its not long before some of the citizens not directly affiliated with the miners start drifting back and forth.

Kaon has gladiator arenas and crystal gardens thanks to the Rainmakers, and a dedicated temple to Megatronus Prime. Megatron had his body evacuated from that dark, filthy cave, had his corpse restored to its former glory and preserved so he could be put to rest somewhere deserving of his presence. That alone brings a lot of people flocking over.

It's driving Optimus crazy, because everytime he goes to the border Megatron is there with the most smug >:3 face imaginable, and despite Prowl's urging he can't just order Megatron to stop. He has a right to have his city there, and he's not actually doing anything wrong.

#transformers one #Optimus #Megatron

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bzurk · 5 months ago

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what gets dirtier the more it cleans?

series masterlist: cw: DUBCON, verging on NONCON, oral (m recieving), soliciting, coersion, slapping, bullying (fr it's mean) tuesday, week one:

You were given three rules when you accepted this job.

Don’t make any loud noises. Leave the lights on when you’re in a room. And most importantly, don’t get in their way.

It seemed straightforward enough. You were prepared to be as inconspicuous as a mouse if it meant securing your paycheck.

You could sympathise. A group of retired veterans reacclimating to civilian life. It couldn’t have, can’t be, easy, transitioning from the battlefield to the mundane. The constant vigilance, the hyper-awareness, must be ingrained in them.

The uniform you’re forced to wear by the organisation that found these potential clients is stiff and uncomfortable, but neat and agreeable. You drag your fingers across the embroidered logo adorning the breast pocket of your collared shirt, tucked neatly into tailored black slacks. The household had wanted to meet you before agreeing to let you into their home unsupervised as their maid, and you had to look perfect for it, had to make a good impression. Your rent was relying on it. You tie your hair back tidily, smoothing any flyaways. Your makeup was minimal and clean, professional. You looked put together.

The drive there is nerve-wracking, but you keep it together. You watch as your humble, working-class neighbourhood gives way to a parade of mansions, one after another, the gentrification painfully obvious. You feel out of place immediately in your modest car, almost as if you’re committing an offence by defiling this pristine street with your humble ride. You slide your car into park and stare at the house you’d researched prior, though seeing it in person puts its sheer scale into perspective. It’s enormous, with landscaping meticulously groomed and clearly maintained by professionals. You eye the clock, and the time is right, regretfully. You force courage into your chest and climb out of your car, the slam of the door sounding like funeral bells in your mind.

The sight of the expensive house gives you pause, the amount of square footage suddenly seeming like too much, an impossible task for one person.

The front of the house is a quintessentially British two-story home, exuding both luxury and comfort. The exterior is a blend of red brick and white stucco, with ivy climbing gracefully up one side, giving it a timeless charm. Tall, mullioned windows framed with dark wood sit symmetrically on either side of a grand, arched front door painted a deep, inviting green. The door is flanked by stone planters overflowing with vibrant flowers, a riot of colour against the muted tones of the house.

A cobblestone pathway, meticulously maintained, leads up to the entrance from the driveway, bordered by perfectly trimmed hedges and blooming roses. The front garden is a masterpiece of landscaping, with a lush, manicured lawn and a variety of shrubs and trees artfully arranged to provide both privacy and beauty.

After scanning the exterior of the house for a few minutes and picking your jaw up from the floor, you return to the very polite message from its inhabitants, even though you’ve already scanned it five times, to solidify the expectations that you’ve so readily agreed to.

Toilets, tile scrubbing, vacuuming, kitchen duty, laundry, organisation, dusting, pool cleaning, take out trash…

The list goes on and on. As your eyes scan the neatly arranged list, you begin to wonder why you’d accepted the job in the first place. While some of these tasks are certainly something you’d performed before for yourself, the high expectations make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Then, you read it.

...A completely satisfactory compensation equal to or surpassing your listed asking price.

Four years of tuition and rising rent loom down at you from your aching savings account, and you’re reinvigorated. These people are obviously well-off and willing to pay you handsomely. You would just have to be careful not to undersell yourself; after all, you can always negotiate.

You have to muster even more strength to ring the doorbell. Your hands shake before you politely clasp them together in front of you, awaiting their arrival. When you hear the mechanisms of the door rattle, you force a smile onto your face that you’d only just then realized was missing.

The first thing to greet you when the door swings open is a blinding smile.

"Hi there! You must be the new maid. I'm Kyle Garrick," he says, extending a hand warmly. His grip is firm but friendly, rough with callouses, and your brain immediately thinks capable, dependable. He is intimidatingly tall and athletic, his posture speaking volumes about his background, shoulders and back straight. His dark hair is neatly trimmed, and there's a spark of genuine interest in his eyes. Worst of all, though, is that he’s gorgeous.

"That’s me!” You chirp out with a wide smile before giving your name. “It's nice to meet you, Mr. Garrick," you reply, trying to steady your nerves as you shake his hand.

"Please, call me Kyle. No need for formalities here," he insists, his smile widening further. "Come on in. I’m sure the place can seem a bit overwhelming at first, but it’s not so bad, promise!"

You step inside, the cool air of the house a sharp contrast to the warmth outside. The interior is just as grand as the exterior, with polished wooden floors, high ceilings, and tasteful decor that speaks of both comfort and sophistication.

"So, tell me a bit about yourself. How long have you been working in housekeeping?" Kyle asks as he leads you through a spacious foyer adorned with a large chandelier and a sweeping staircase.

"Well, I've been doing this for about three years now. Started part-time while I was studying," you explain, trying to keep your voice steady. "I enjoy the work, and it’s always interesting to see different homes and meet new people." Your brain was working overtime to send words to your mouth, and your cheeks hurt from holding the cordial smile. While it’s true you’ve been working at your job for a while, you did not enjoy seeing different homes and meeting people.

But hey, at least it isn’t retail.

Kyle nods thoughtfully. "I can imagine. We’re a bit of a unique household, as you probably know. Your boss told us great things about you, though. We’re happy to have you here."

"Thank you, that means a lot," you mumble, running your clammy palms across your pants. Beautiful, and nice? Your heart may as well give out now.

He gestures towards a doorway leading into a large, open living area. "Here’s the living room. We spend a lot of time here, so it can get a bit messy. Just a heads up," he adds with a chuckle.

You take in the room, noting the plush sofas, a grand fireplace, and a large bay window overlooking the garden. It’s clear that, while the house is grand, it’s also very much lived in and loved. Opposite the fireplace is a giant television flanked by bookshelves, brimming with titles you couldn’t make out. The stand beneath was home to multiple game consoles and controllers and a mess of cables. A plush rug covers the floor beneath the couch and coffee table, and blankets rest haphazardly over the arm of the couch.

"We'll head to the kitchen next," Kyle says, guiding you through the house. Despite the grandeur of the mansion, there’s a warmth to it, largely thanks to Kyle’s easy-going nature.

But you know you are completely out of your element because the kitchen alone is the size of your entire apartment. The idea of scrubbing this place clean fills you with more anxiety with each room that he shows you, but you keep it together enough to maintain a confident facade.

Mostly.

As Kyle led you down yet another dimly lit hallway, a behemoth of a man suddenly stepped out ahead of you.

And oh my God, he's huge. He fills the entire doorway from which he emerges, phone to his ear, glaring down at the source of the apparent bothersome noise that interrupted his call. With a wave, he acknowledges Kyle, hardly sparing you the dignity of a glance. Kyle quiets down immediately. The man's piercing, dark eyes say everything he doesn't need to, shadowed by the jut of his brow. For a moment, you're certain no one else on this Earth could be as intimidating. The sheer breadth of his shoulders and chest strikes a primal fear into you, making you question your faith and leaving your lips pursed shut in complete silence, your body snapping into utter stillness lest you be a bother. Prey frozen in front of a predator, hoping to remain unseen.

Satisfied, he returns to the room from which he emerged, shutting the door behind him as his deep, guttural voice rumbles an apology into the phone’s receiver. It's so deep, so guttural, you swear it reverberates in your chest.

After the pleasantries are over, there are just two rooms left to discover: the one that Dark-and-Scary emerged from and the door opposite.

“Don’t worry about Simon’s office,” Kyle dismisses. “He’d probably rather you not go in there.”

As if the guy couldn't get any scarier. You decide to avoid the room like it's radioactive, an easy decision to make. You eye the closed door as Kyle knocks on the other.

“Come in,” a deep, gruff voice grants permission from within.

Kyle opens the door, revealing a room that exudes authority and wisdom. The space is lined with dark wood panelling, and the air carries the faint scent of tobacco and aged leather. A large oak desk sits near the back, its surface meticulously organized with papers, a laptop, and a small lamp. Behind the desk, an imposing figure stands, looking up from a stack of documents.

"Captain- er, Price, this is the new housekeeper," Kyle introduces, his voice slightly more formal than before, his posture straighter.

Captain Price, a man with a rugged face and a neatly trimmed beard, offers a nod. His eyes, a steely blue, assess you with a mixture of curiosity and scrutiny. "Nice to meet you," he says, his voice gravelly yet warm.

You muster a smile, hoping it doesn’t come across as nervous as you feel. "You too, sir. Your house is lovely."

Price gestures to the chairs in front of his desk. "Have a seat. 'M sure Garrick has given you a lot to think about already."

You nod and sit down, the leather chair creaking slightly under your weight. Kyle takes a seat beside you, his presence reassuring.

"So," Price begins, leaning back in his chair. Seated and relaxed, he still seems to take up the entire room, authority lingering in the air like the scent of cigar smoke. He's intimidating, but not in the same way Simon was - a hulking behemoth. Not that Price isn’t a large man himself; his shirt stretches across a broad chest, pulled tight over sculpted biceps and shoulders. Even slouched in a plush leather desk chair, he towers over you. "What do you think so far?"

Price is intimidating because there is a magnetism about him. His beard is trimmed and neat, speckled with greys, and creases tug at his eyes whenever his expression changes. In his right hand, he spins a pen over his fingers, thick and scarred and rough. He’s a man of experience, of hardship, but it’s concealed by a calm and composed veneer. He demands respect without having to open his mouth.

You pause, carefully considering your response. "I think your house is beautiful," you say, hoping it sounds convincing. You fold your hands over your lap to hide the shaking. "A bit intimidating, but I’m up for the task."

Price nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer. "Fair enough. We value hard work and dedication here. As long as you do your job right, we'll get along just fine." He leans forward, his gaze intensifying. "But understand this: our privacy is paramount. What happens in this house stays in this house. We have our reasons for being particular about who we let in."

The ice from his eyes pierces through your veins, flooding your blood with cold. You nod quickly, "I understand, sir. I’m here to clean, nothing more, nothing less."

Price leans back again, his demeanour softening slightly. "Good. Then I think we’ll get along just fine. I hope you find everything to your liking. When would you be able to start? Our old schedule was Tuesdays and Thursdays,” he smiles again, placating, and you’re grateful that this is almost over.

“Most weekdays we’re on base,” Kyle adds. “But our schedules aren’t consistent.”

“Tuesday and Thursday are fine,” you confirm, knowing full well that today is Sunday. Your mind races with the laundry list of responsibilities that you would need to get together by Tuesday.

“Fantastic. Now about your compensation…” Price continues, drumming his fingers atop the desk.

Your ears perk up.

“How about $200 for the travel and $300 for the work?”

You’re glad that he’s the first to throw out some numbers, considering you didn’t know they’d be covering your travel times as well. Still, even with the bonus, it seems low. “$300 per day?”

Price’s eyes crease as he raises a brow. “Per hour, love.”

You startle at that. You must look like a deer in headlights considering Kyle’s sympathetic pat on your knee.

“Su-sure! Yes, that is um…” you stutter, knowing you look like an idiot but helpless to do anything about it. “Agreeable.”

He nods in affirmation. “Excellent. I look forward to seeing you on Tuesday. Just let yourself in through the garage, the code is 5768. There will be a list on the counter of your duties. I’ll be home around six, but it’s alright if you’re not done by then. Don’t burn yourself out on the first day.”

You memorize that number like your life depends on it. You exchange contact information with Price and Kyle. You want to ask if Simon will be home on Tuesday, but you resist, not wanting to ask too many questions with a promised salary over your head.

Finally, once you’ve exchanged your goodbyes pleasantly, you’re free to go. Outside, you take a deep breath, glad that the meeting went as well as it did. Cleaning this place must take at least a few hours, and at that rate, you’ll be paying off your loans in no time.

You focus on the suddenly attainable dream of financial freedom as you make your way home to prepare.

—

Tuesday comes far too quickly for your liking.

Getting into the house feels more scandalous than it is. Your heart drops at the sight of a car still in the garage, though you suppose that doesn’t mean anything for certain. Rich people usually have multiple cars, right? You hope that you’re alone, away from the scrutiny of an overbearing homeowner, as nice as they may be.

You remember Simon with a shiver as you make your way inside the house, the memory making you close the door quietly behind you, recalling the home’s layout and making sure to check the kitchen counter for the list. You find it with ease, and the amount of tasks is shorter than you thought it’d be.

You collect the supplies you need and set out, starting with the living room. The TV is so massive that you could mistake it for a wall feature. You blink away the disbelief and start dusting, arranging the decor that adorns the surfaces and arranging throw pillows across the expanse that is the couch that wraps around the room.

You make quicker work of the room than you’d thought. You save the vacuuming for last when you’ll do it for the entire bottom floor as the note specifies. Stepping back, you take in the big picture of the room and you’re quite pleased with yourself. You suppose you weren’t lying when you told Kyle you were detail-oriented. You were good at what you did.

You turn back towards the kitchen to assess the note and hopefully cross off some tasks, and your entire soul leaves your body.

You startle back, a sharp gasp bursting from your chest, terrified. Jesus Christ, where did he come from? Was he always there? He’s just standing there, mug in hand, leaning against the counter, but his sheer presence was enough to spook you to your bones. You clutch your chest and almost laugh nervously, dissuaded by the stern look on his face, somehow making a black henley menacing. Shit, he’s ripped.

“Mr- Mr. Riley,” you regard him, taking a moment to remember his last name. Simply calling him by his first name is too informal, even if that is how Kyle introduced him to you. “My apologies. You scared me.”

“Hmph,” he dismisses, taking a sip of his tea before regarding you again. You take the brief time to force your heart to stop pounding in your chest. “Usually the maid comes around two or three.”

“I’m sorry,” your voice shakes as he regards you. How long was he standing there watching you? “I can come back at another time?”

“’s fine,” he nearly rolls his eyes before laying his sights back onto you. “Jus’ make sure you use the shit that smells like pine.”

“Yes! Yes sir,” you nod hurriedly. “Pine-scented-”

“Are you doin’ the beds today?” he asks before you’re finished speaking.

“Yes,” you blurt before swallowing. “After I wash the sheets.”

Simon swirls the tea around in his mug with a few controlled rolls of his wrist. “Use extra fabric softener, but not with Johnny’s. And make ‘em tightly.”

“Of course. Yes,” you are anxious to get this conversation over with. Simon makes your every muscle taut with anxiety. His stern words are all business, and you’re rather thankful for that in a way. There’s no second-guessing.

He glares at you through the furrow of his brow before turning towards the foyer. He speaks to you again without turning back around to face you, “Did you close the garage door?”

Shit.

“N-no, sir,” you answer honestly. You don’t consider lying to him for a minute.

He doesn’t move. Your heart speeds back up regrettably.

“Always close the garage door,” he insists darkly before approaching the entry door to do so himself.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” you convince, wishing you got a better look at exactly how he did so. He closes the entry door before you have a chance to see, and you definitely don’t have the balls to ask.

“Don’t make too much noise, either,” Simon demands, raising his voice to ensure you’ve heard him despite the increased distance between you.

“Of course,” you chatter, drilled into place as if he’d filled your shoes with lead.

You hear a door shut, and suddenly you can breathe again. Still, the minuscule noise of the air through your nose is too loud, you decide. You try breathing quieter despite the dizziness plaguing your head, only to give up a few moments later. You wait for him to come back and yell at you again for a few minutes before mustering the bravery to continue to the kitchen to retrieve the list.

Suddenly, it’s a mile long.

Since Simon mentioned the beds, you figure you should start there. You hurry up the stairs, tiptoeing to avoid making them creak, and quickly strip the beds of the surprisingly sparse amount of bedding (like seriously, only one pillow? Psychopaths) before carrying the bundle downstairs and into the laundry room. Getting the cycle started is a bit like rocket science given the high-tech nature of the machine, but you figure it out, extra fabric softener in place as ordered. You allow yourself to take a breath as you recall the master bedroom, as extravagant as you’d expected it to be. Daydreaming about a king-sized bed and a fireplace in the bedroom distracts you from Simon enough to accomplish a few more tasks, crossing them off the list as you go.

The last thing to do as you wait for the bedding to dry is clean the bathrooms. Kyle so kindly writes that you “don’t have to go crazy with it”, but you will anyway. You collect your supplies, rubber gloves donned, and head towards the first bedroom adjacent to the foyer.

“Oi.”

His voice sends needles down your spine. You’d almost forgotten he was there, naught but a peep to be heard from beyond his office door. Now, he stands in the doorway of it with his arms crossed to address you. He’s so tall that he has to bend his neck to look at you, lashes long and dark as they cast shadows across his features. His scarred, mangled features that rocket fear up your spine.

“Yes?” it comes out as a wheeze, your lungs robbed of breath.

“I spilled something in ‘ere, can you get it? Have a call in ten minutes, make it quick,” he explains, the most you’ve heard him speak. Even though he phrases the request as a question, it’s anything but; you are to report to duty immediately. You mentally salute him.

“Of course,” you prattle before shuffling your supplies in your arms. He makes way for you, sticking close by intentionally, his arm raised above your head to hold open the door, a lion’s paw about to come down on a mouse. He’s never been scarier than he is in that moment, brushing past him to get into his office, the difference in size between your bodies starkly and embarrassingly apparent.

You arrive at a sparsely decorated office with a deep mahogany desk at the very centre. Your eyes scan the floor but find nothing out of place, unsure if you should enter the office further to investigate or just wait for Simon to point the mess out to you.

He steps past you to return to his desk, sitting in a tall chair before swinging his legs up onto his desk. He narrowly avoids the computer there, and you notice that his boots pretty much dwarf it, before a smash.

His thick-heeled boot knocked right into an empty glass perched precariously on the corner of his desk. It comes crashing down onto the expensive carpet beneath, shattering into countless sharp shards in a messy circle. You watch this happen with your own eyes, but you’re not sure it really happened. It’s not until Simon removes his feet from the desk to cross them normally that you understand what’s happening.

“Whoops,” he mutters sarcastically with a dismissive wave of his hand before tucking his arms into a cross. He never once breaks his stare at you while doing this, especially now. He waits for you to make eye contact before blinking. It’s long and slow, like he’s showing it off. Like he’s telling you just how relaxed he is while you’re a complete mess.

“I-” You’re stunned, insulted, and frankly frustrated.

“There’s a mess. So clean it,” he states plainly.

“Of course,” you swallow your pride and every curse word that bubbles up into your throat. You sink onto your knees, and the movement almost sickens you. You remember a time when you wouldn’t give an ounce of your pride to rich assholes like this, back when circumstances were different.

The loans, just think of the loans…

You use a small brush and dustpan to sweep up the glass shards, the sharp fragments catching on the fibres of the carpet like stubborn burrs. Simon's legs stay in your peripheral vision, an unyielding presence that looms over you as you work on your knees. You try to ignore the weight of his gaze, focusing instead on the painstaking task of collecting each sliver.

"I- I think I need the vacuum," you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper. You pour the shards into a small container, a brittle symphony of tinkling glass, and rise to your feet, clutching the dustpan like a lifeline, as if it could protect you.

“Vacuum is too loud,” Simon scoffs. “Figure it out.”

You hold back a grimace, your eyes lifting to meet his, searching for any sign of leniency. But his expression is carved from stone, cold and unyielding. Defeated, you drop your gaze and return to the task, plucking out the smaller bits of glass with your now bare fingers, each prick a tiny sting of defiance against your skin.

Halfway through your meticulous work, Simon's desk phone rings. The sound slices through the tense silence, and he forgets about your presence, lifting the receiver to his ear.

"Now's fine. The maid's here, but no matter." His voice is stripped of its usual menace, a disconcerting change that sends a shiver down your spine. "No, s’not Faith. New one. Knocked over a glass.”

You scowl, your fingers pausing as his words sink in. The other line responds, and Simon smirks, a cruel twist of his scarred lips.

You clench your jaw, the glass shard embedding itself deeper into your finger. You hiss between your teeth. The words you want to hurl at him burn like antifreeze, bitter and corrosive in your throat. The money on the table feels like a shackle, binding you to this humiliating role. Any protest would likely cost you this job, and you can't afford that.

Simon shifts to business talk, and you tune out, the fumes of your rage and indignation fuelling your efforts. The fear you once felt towards him dissipates, replaced by a simmering resentment. He’s not as terrifying as he first seemed; just another arrogant, condescending douchebag. Still, you don’t dare rise until every speck of glass has been meticulously collected.

You stand, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere. Gathering your supplies, you head for the door, your steps hurried.

"Hey," Simon's voice halts you, and you turn to find him pointing at the floor by his side. Your heart sinks as you assume you missed some glass, and you crouch at the side of his desk chair. Before you can react, he moves with startling swiftness, swivelling his chair and knocking you off balance with his boot. You wobble, falling forward onto your knees and scraping them against the carpet, your hands landing on his thighs, and your brain short-circuits, hitting factory reset in your fear. You scramble to push off of him, to crawl backwards and create some space, but Simon grips your hair with a vicious tug, forcing you to remain between his legs.

The pressure on your scalp is excruciating, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You can smell the faint scent of his cologne, mingling with the bitterness of your fear and anger. It clogs your throat, shame and embarrassment and disgust all boiling in your gut. The shock feels like the shards of glass you collected pouring over your head, tickling and slicing against skin.

He holds you there for a moment, his grip tightening just enough to make you whimper, cheek pressed against his thigh until you can feel the warmth of his skin through his jeans, abrasive against the sensitive skin of your face. You can feel the way his thigh flexes when he leans back in his chair, all muscle and brute strength. His grip moves from your hair to the nape of your neck to hold you still when you struggle again.

You bite your tongue, literally, to keep yourself from losing the only job that you’ve been able to get.

Loans, loans, loans… Bills, bills, bills…

For a moment, he’s just staring at you, smirking, and you realize he’s finally placed the phone back on his desk, yet his grip remains ironclad around your neck. The rage builds, and your hands ball up into fists, and you take a breath to will yourself into silence.

You’re shaking now, a quick glance towards the door securing your escape plan. Simon notices, but he doesn’t move. Your eyes flick to the dustpan of glass next, too far for you to reach, and you know deep down that you would never be quick enough to slice Simon. He’s ex-military, for fuck’s sake. You know he’s followed your gaze when his thigh flexes again under your cheek, his boot coming to rest between your knees, ready to knock you back down if you so much as flinch.

“Mr Riley…” You cower, your voice muffled against his jeans, weak and snuffy. He merely tilts his head at you. “I need to get back to w-work.”

You flinch away violently, and he forces your head further into his leg as he opens one of the desk’s drawers. He could be reaching for a knife, or a gun, and you’d be completely useless to stop him, scruffed like an unruly cat and sat at his feet like a pet. You choke back a sob, hands gripping around his calves.

He wields a stack of cash, rolled together with a rubber band. You can’t help but stare at it, bright, crisp bills nestled in the palm of his giant paw. He tosses it up and catches it above your head, as if it were merely a baseball, and smirks at your wide-eyed reaction. Your eyes follow it like a baby to a mobile.

“So predictable,” he murmurs, snapping the rubber band off to stack a few of the bills atop his other thigh, right in front of your nose. A puff of breath from you would be enough to scatter it to the floor.

You force your eyes from it and compose yourself. A few hundred dollars is hardly worth selling your dignity for. You’re not entirely sure what he’s getting at, anyway.

“What- what are you talking about?” you finally decide to ask, much less confidently than you’d hoped you would.

“You’re pretty useful around here. You should show me just how useful you can be,” he croons, leaning down and curling over your head, your proximity to him keeping his voice perfectly audible despite the quiet, deep nature of it. You meet his shadowed glare with furrowed brows and watery eyes, lips taut, as you finally realize what it is that he’s asking of you when he rubs your face against his jeans again.

With his free hand, he grabs the few bills he placed on his knee and slides them under the waistband of your slacks. You can’t stop the squeak that eeks past your lips.

“What? No!” you resist, trying to throw your head back and out of his grasp when he lets go suddenly, and the back of your skull knocks into the desk painfully, ornaments jostling from the impact. You’re glad nothing falls, not wanting to deal with that at the moment. Not with your dignity apparently for sale. “You’re- No, no- Price would have my head!”

“And he isn’t here, is he?” Simon interrupts before you can make an even bigger fool of yourself. He leans in further, caging you between his knees and the desk until the distance between you is negligible. He grabs your chin this time, his pointer and thumb panning from ear to ear across your jaw, and slips anther bill down the front of your shirt until his abrasive fingers tuck it into your bra, his touch searing against the sensitive skin.

“You can put up with a lot, love,” Simon coos deeply. He slides another bill into your bra, tucked under the strap, as you start to feel dizzy, unsure if this is really happening. There’s at least $500 tucked into your clothing at this point.

You stare into his chest, the calculated rise and fall of it doing little to slow your own. God, he’s just so huge, and you’re cornered, your escape plan evaporating with his presence. You’re not sure you could squeeze past him even if you tried. An immovable object.

When he slides another bill against your skin, you open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. This is so reprehensible that you struggle to find the appropriate words to describe just how disgusting all of it feels. The money burns, sears, branding your shame into your skin permanently. A tattoo in the shape of your weakness, your gullibility. Your gut twists and aches, your hunched shoulders so tense with the pull of your muscles that you might make yourself faint.

Another bill, another moment of terse silence. Tears finally spill over your lashline.

Shit… how much is that, now?

This has to be some sort of test, right? Simon has made it perfectly clear that he enjoys messing with you. This has to be one of his games. One that you so happen to have fallen hook-line-and-sinker into.

Another bill. Your bra struggles to hold them. You’re pretty sure he brushes them over your nipples on purpose.

Well, if he’s going to play a game, maybe going along with it is exactly how you get out of it.

“What are you asking me to do?” you utter, squeezing your arms against your breasts to keep any of the cash from spilling out. You can hear the way it crinkles.

“I’m not asking,” Simon murmurs, his voice a rumbling bass given the closeness to his chest. You can feel the vibrations of it deep in your ribs. “You’ll do it eventually. We all have a price.”

Your eyes flutter closed at that, with his breath ghosting over your face. You feel – you are - completely stuck. You force your eyes open, but still can’t muster the balls to meet his gaze. He taps your nose with another bill, the rhythmic tap-tap-tap driving you crazy until you swipe his hand away. Are you really someone who has a price?

Yes.

“Suck me off,” he demands plainly, and the words completely steal the breath from your chest. You don’t breathe, you can’t breathe, the absolute ridiculousness of it all weighing heavily on your conscience. He starts the tapping again, though it’s slower, now. You blink away the tears, completely preparing yourself for the verbal onslaught that you want to inflict upon this fucking creep for insisting you do such a thing.

The taps slow into an excruciating rub across your cheeks before Simon simply lets the bill flutter to the floor, discarded like trash before trying again with another one.

Well… It is a lot of money…

You swallow, almost rolling your eyes as you close them again. If this is a game, it’s a really fucking sick one. He tosses that bill to the ground too and repeats the movement, this time sliding the bill across your cheek, over your nose, tracing it down to your lips before letting it flutter to the ground.

“Just- just a blowjob?” you utter, voice as weak as your moral convictions.

That makes him chuckle, the noise of it sinister, more akin to a deep growl than a laugh. He knows he’s won, this little game that he indulged in. He leans back, proud, to assess his work: you, flustered and flushed and way too hot, avoiding eye contact with him at all costs as you crunch the bills in your hand. “Just a blowjob.”

He leans back in his chair smugly, arms resting against the armrests and his fingers drumming against them. You’re not sure if you can get out of this by citing your inexperience, or if that would just intrigue him further, so you keep your mouth shut. No, he had ensnared you long ago, and you were just along for the ride. Simon was taking his position as your superior with delight. Or, well, whatever it is that Simon can experience that might be considered delight by any standards besides sadistic.

You stuff the cash from the floor in your pocket, along with your pride, and finally look him in the eye. He simply waits for you, as if you knew the first thing about these sorts of situations. He must enjoy watching you fumble with yourself internally, piercing brown eyes like daggers into the gears mashing around in your head, jamming them in place.

“Well?” Simon lilts.

You obey his unspoken command, swallowing thick spit and frowning deeply. You crawl closer on your knees, the plush carpet suddenly suffocating. Simon has that stupid expression again, spreading his legs wider to encourage you between them. You’ve seen things like this in bad pornos, but you don’t have the first clue how to handle any of this.

“’m not paying you to stare,” Simon derides. You know that you should be doing something, anything, but with the flood of thoughts and doubts and impulses flying past you, you simply can’t piece together what he wants from you right now. He’s jammed the gears in your head, his derision a knife between cogs.

You watch his hands fumble in the fly of his jeans. Your eyes widen with the sudden spring of flesh that makes itself very apparent, his cock bouncing towards his belly. The idea that he’d gotten hard from messing around with you is repugnant and vile, and you wonder just how depraved he is. You’d seen a few cocks before, mostly in college during some bad decisions, but his is just so foreign. Developed in a way that only age could afford; huge and heavy, hindered by its own weight. He presents it so unceremoniously, so matter-of-factly, that it catches you more off guard than you thought it would.

He pats his knee twice, as if he were summoning a dog. From your place at his feet, you felt like one.

You rise on your knees, placing your hands over his thighs for balance. You can’t help but keep your eyes locked on his cock, towering, framed by a plush covering of dark hair.

He grabs the base of it and jiggles the flesh, inviting you impatiently. “Open up.”

Your jaw trembles as you oblige, just barely parting your lips enough to expose your tongue. Simon waits for you to inch closer on your knees, really nestled between his legs now, and there’s no going back. You don’t like when he tells you what to do, but at the same time, you’re completely lost without his guidance. You give it your best shot, licking a stripe just beneath the head of his cock. You wince, the taste off-putting and the smell of him unusual.

He surprises you, grasping the back of your neck with his free hand. You startle and whimper, reflexively clutching his knees to keep your balance. He isn’t particularly rough, but the sudden nature of it scares you.

You are impossibly in over your head.

He keeps your head in place as he angles the tip of his cock between your lips with his free hand. He sighs when you instinctively close your mouth around it, tongue wiggling beneath the pulsing flesh as you try to swallow. A tear creeps its way from the corner of your eye, sliding down your cheek with shame.

“Suck.”

You close your eyes as you give that your best shot, cheeks hollowing around the intrusion in your mouth. Your tongue is more useful, here, given the increased friction. You lather it around languidly, unsure if that would even feel good, but Simon doesn’t tell you to stop. You just want to get this over with as quickly as possible. You open your jaw ever-so-slowly with each tentative suck to accommodate the girth, spongy veins pressing along the heat of your tongue.

He squeezes the back of your neck again, and you know what you need to do. You start to bob your head to the fullest extent of your limits. Just when you think that Simon is fully hard, he gets even harder, the size of it quickly becoming difficult to handle. You start to choke when the tip prods the back of your throat, but when you try to back off, Simon’s firm hand across the back of your neck keeps you in place. You break the suction to force a breath, gaping your lips to puff out a breath around the intrusion in your mouth. Simon didn’t seem to like that, pushing you farther down towards his groin.

You wince and more tears come, either from the activation of your gag reflex or the sheer mortifying pain of doing something like this with someone like him. You feel like a filthy enabler, giving him what he wanted so easily.

Simon pulls your head back, his cock slipping from between your lips with a wet noise. You cough, though your little pity session is interrupted by him slapping the meat of his cock against your cheek. Now that it’s out of your mouth you can really size it up, brows furrowing at the intimidating bulk of it as he drags it across your face. You’re not ashamed to admit that you’re intimidated by it, as arousing as a cock of this size would be in any other circumstance. You scowl at the wet heat of your own spit slathered across your face and the degrading nature of it.

“You better figure this out before six o’clock,” he gripes, and you squeeze his calves with fear. You know exactly who would be getting home around then.

You open back up after he jerks himself haphazardly against your cheek a few times, glaring up at him for a split second. He lets you do it, relaxing his hold on your neck as you take up a quick rhythm. Being reminded of the impending consequences speeds up your motivations, bobbing messily around his cock until you manage to earn a heated groan from his chest. His hand trails to the back of your head, more of a cradle than a hold, fingers embedded in your mussed hair.

You grasp his thighs instead, using his body to adjust for the recoil of your rhythm. He gradually presses on the back of your head, a gentle insistence that you take more than just half the length. You force your throat to relax as best you can as you try to accommodate him, tongue draped across your lower teeth. You’re deathly afraid of scraping him, especially with the increased depth. He gets thicker towards the base, too, tempting the limits of your mouth and your ability to keep your lips clamped around the length of it.

He grunts when he meets a resistance that you truly wish you didn’t have. If this is what he wanted, so be it. But you can’t, your eyes clenching shut at the intrusion, trying to compensate with more half-hearted dips of your head. Simon’s fingers curl into your hair, suddenly holding you still, stinging your scalp with his grip. Your attempts to placate him apparently aren’t enough.

“Take it,” Simon growls, his upper body curled over you for leverage. You manage to take a short breath before he plummets back inside, fighting the sideways turn of your head as you try to resist it. He ploughs into your throat like a battering ram, fucking it deeply, uncomfortably. You feel your sinuses sting, bile creeping into them as you try to flail away. “Fucking take. It.”

You try your hardest. It’s much easier said than done.

Simon keeps you firmly planted between his legs, both hands now clasped around the back of your head, his weight pinning you down, a calf slung around your back. Your neck aches with the angle, your chest burning with the lack of air. What does he get out of this? Is it simply to make you suffer? You wouldn’t put it past him.

Your tongue lingers across the base of his balls where sticky spit begins to accumulate, strands of mess connecting your chin to his balls. You claw into his thighs, tapping, anything to get him to stop. You swear you hear him snicker, the noise dampened by the blood rushing past your ears. Your eyes open just to roll back, searching for any sense of empathy no matter how shrivelled it may be.

Finally, he releases you, just a moment before you either throw up or pass out. You throw yourself back, falling onto your ass, coughing and crying. You swipe the mess from your face and force deep breaths into your aching chest, too distracted by your misery to notice Simon standing to approach you.

“Stupid cunt,” he spits, taking your hair back into his grasp. He forces you to look up at him, and you’re not sure why you expected to be treated any differently than this.

You burst into a startled scream when he tugs, wrapping your now loose hair into his fist. Before you can even cry, he’s quick to shut you back up.

He cranes your neck back uncomfortably to stuff his balls along your chin, dragging the length of his cock across the bridge of your nose. He’s more forceful with it now, rutting his balls against the exposed meat of your tongue as it peeks from between your lips. His hips roll, back and forth, mushing your face around with his cock. The salty taste downturns your mouth, a bitter mixture of skin and sweat.

Now that he’s standing, he has greater leverage over you. You feel even more powerless than before, impossibly, held in place by the sheer power of Simon’s grip. Your mascara was running before, but now it’s coated your under-eyes in a haphazard, dripping mess. Remnants of other bits of your makeup dredge Simon’s cock, his hips finally reared back.

“Open your fucking mouth,” he growls, more of a whisper than any command he’d given you before. He barely waits for you to obey before thrusting his length back into your mouth. He hisses through his teeth when your own scrape against it, the affront enough to invigorate him into a hurried and brutal pulse of his hips.

You give up on breathing. If you’re going to pass out, you’re going to pass out, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Your nose burns from the scrape of his pubic hair across it, and your little whines are suffocated by the bulk of his cock pounding into your throat. He’s much quicker now that he’s standing, having given up hope of letting you take any semblance of an active role. Your throat makes embarrassing, wet, choking noises as he pummels in and out of it, nothing more than a hole for him to take advantage of.

He slides out just to slap your cheek, spit flying from the impact. He doesn’t hit hard, but he’s accurate, the reddened shadow of his hand starting to blush across your cheek. He’s quick to get back to work with a grunt, craning your neck back again to stuff his cock back inside. You gag, but he doesn’t care, pushing past the resistance once more to enjoy the tightness of it.

You give up knocking against his muscular thighs, simply grabbing hold of the hem of his shirt as he fucks your face relentlessly. You’re dizzy, snot streaming from your nose, spit flying from your chin and onto the floor. Simon, who once seemed all too concerned about cleanliness, seems to relish in making an absolute mess of you. You try rising from your knees in a last act of defiance, but his hold on your head keeps you in line, stuffing your nose into his groin as if to mock your attempt at escape.

“Fuck,” he groans, little pumps of his hips taking full advantage of your throat now that he’s buried inside it. Your eyes roll back, the crinkle of money sharp in your bra. You focus on the feeling of it as Simon grates the abused interior of your throat, your chest quivering instinctively as it struggles for a breath. “Look at me.”

You force yourself to look up through the sticky mess of your mascara, tears blurring your vision. Still, past the trail of hair leading from his groin to his belly, you can see the beginnings of his face. His jaw is tensed, lips parted with exertion, beads of sweat dotting his forehead as he glares down at you with what you can only interpret as rage. He’s angry, pulling your hair just that much tighter when you dare to blink or try to look away.

Finally, finally, he relents. Even though he pulls out of your mouth, he keeps you firmly planted exactly where he wants you. You clench your eyes shut to avoid watching Simon jerk the length of his cock against your face, his hot breaths sticky as he looks down at you. Heat spurts onto your cheek and you grimace, having little time to enjoy your precious breaths before snapping your mouth shut. His heavy balls bounce against your face with the rhythm of his jerking, scraping your cheek with the hair across them. Your body still forces some coughs through your suppression of them, erupting from your throat with disjointed, garbled noises, and your lips part just barely. Threads of cum breach the space between your lips, the bitter taste seeping into your mouth against your will.

Simon, in a new low, adjusts his hold on your head to spread his fingers across your face. He rides out his orgasm with your face at his disposal, globs of cum marking your forehead, cheeks, chin, and everywhere in between.

He sighs, a long, droning noise that is as much a relief for you as it is for him. You sob quietly to yourself, hands raising to wipe the mess from your face as best you can. His body, warm and stocky, glistens with a sheen of sweat. He throws his head back as he releases yours, caring not about where you end up now that he’d discarded you. He wipes the tip of his cock across your lips in a final bid to clean it.

You can’t believe that you’ve just done that. You curl into yourself on the floor, still trying your best to keep your uniform unsullied. When you’re able to open your eyes again, you realize how silly that aspiration is; ropes and speckles of cum, spit, and sweat stain the delicate fabric. You may as well stay on the floor… it’s where you belong.

You’re not sure how much time passes before Simon speaks again. His words are muffled by something.

“Towel,” he utters, suitably calm now.

“What?” your brain simply doesn’t comprehend the word.

“A towel,” he says more sternly this time. “You know where they are.”

You’re not sure you can even stand. Nevertheless, after staring at him in disbelief for a few moments, you force yourself onto your feet. You watch him flick a lighter and ignite a cigarette, the smell out of place given your once-pristine surroundings. You’re shaky, suppressing a few coughs and cries, looking away from the fresh plume of smoke to head towards the bath down the hall. You drag your feet, seeking support from the doorway to keep your balance. You grab the closest non-decorative towel that you find, sending a stack of them cascading to the floor. You don’t care, barely regarding the heap as you make your way back to the bedroom.

The smell of smoke stings your abused sinuses and throat. You hold the towel out to Simon, who so graciously opens one eye for you before smiling, cigarette dangling between his lips.

“Your job is to clean, so clean.”

He mirrors a previous conversation, and it sickens you, your hands shaking with a mixture of exhaustion, rage, and fear as you grasp the towel. Apparently, your mouth didn’t clean him well enough. Well, this is hardly the worst thing he’s asked you to do, at least…

That fact obliterates any shred of self-respect that you have left.

You bend down to attend to his needs, spit and cum cooling quickly in the dustings of his hair. He hisses, slapping away your hand with a sudden disapproval.

“Gently,” he scowls. The hypocrisy of the request settles heavily in your gut, but you have no option but to oblige. You simply have no idea how to handle a cock with your hands, what pressure is appropriate. His cum slicks your face, but of course, you need to be concerned with the integrity of his balls before that of your own face.

It takes some doing, but you get there. He’s as clean and dry as you can get him, only to be rewarded by a thick puff of smoke in your face. He smirks at your indignant frown and the way you turn away for fresh air, the cigarette glowing red as he takes another long inhale.

“‘S fine,” he murmurs, smoke billowing from his nostrils. “Clean yourself up and get the fuck out of here.”

You use the same towel despite the disgustingness of it, desperate to get the sludge cleared from your face. You’re half as successful as you’d like, a nice hot shower sounding better than the fistful of hundreds bundled in your pocket. You collect the few bills scattered on the floor without a word, shameless, lightheaded from the exertion of it. You sigh with relief, dropping the towel where you stand and sauntering towards the door without a word.

“Oi,” he cajoles as you grasp the door handle. You turn back just enough to regard him, eyes rimmed red and face painted black with mascara. “Did you do the dishes?”

You merely nod twice, and it’s enough for him, apparently. He dismisses you with a huff and a wave before letting his upper body lean back against his chair. “See you next week.”

Next week. Not Thursday.

A sinking feeling settles in your gut as you realize this won't be the last time. Come next Tuesday, if Simon is here, he'll have another bonus for you. You’ll just have to make sure you’re well out of his way.

You finally leave a little past four o'clock. The day has slipped away, a surreal blur of time. The sharp scent of Simon’s cologne and the taste of bile burns your sinuses, as painfully persistent as your wounded pride.

The shower you take once you get home is hot, but not hot enough. There isn’t water hot enough in existence to burn the shame from the deeply embedded streaks across your face, scouring you from the inside out.

You worry that perhaps Simon swindled you and snuck some singles in the stack of bills that he gave you, but he didn’t. The “bonus” just barely covers your credit card bill. But hey, at least it doesn’t overdraw.

Silver linings.

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readychilledwine · 10 months ago

Text

Lost Bonds pt 2

Summary - After the second war, an unexpected bond with Y/n Archeron, and repairing all he's lost, Tamlin is shocked with news from the very female Rhys has been protecting from him.

Warnings- cliffhanger because I liked the suspense, angst in a way, unrequited love, one sided fated mates

A/N - I'm going to apologize and ask for forgiveness now. The rest of this is written, but it was uncomfortably long. I broke it into 3 parts, so you all weren't reading a short novella.

Read part one here Pt 3

Winnowing was the stupidest form of transportation, y/n thinks she has ever used.

She sighed as she walked through the woods she found herself in, praying silently to the void that she was still in the Night Court.

It definitely did not smell like home, though. The sweet scent of flowers and petrichor surrounded her like a warm embrace. Welcoming her, relaxing her. Her finally clue she was lost came from looking up once more. The trees were blooming. It was late winter in Velaris. Yet here, small pink and white buds covered every tree she could see. They swayed in a soft, rain scented breeze that almost seemed to tingle her skin.

She sighed heavily, playing with the wedding ring and band resting on her left ring finger. She didn't know if Azriel would be proud or upset. She had managed to winnow herself from the Illyrian Steppes to Spring.

Even new to the world of the fae, she knew that was not an easy thing to do. It explained her exhaustion, the small trickle of blood running down her nose. She continued walking, hoping she would find someone, anyone who may help her.

Tamlin felt someone enter his court uninvited and shifted to head their way. All the High Lords had just received a message from Rhysand regarding her.

Azriel had evidently been training her with her new powers blooming and suddenly appearing out of nowhere. She had been practicing winnowing, and now they could not find her.

It would have been ridiculous to assume an untrained female had made her way all the way down to the seasonal courts, but after Nesta had shown her hand just a few years ago, and Elain after that, it would not have surprised any of the High Lords at this point. He continued moving closer to the border between his court and the human realm, following where the magic was alerting and then pausing.

You stood before him, illyrian leathers clinging to every beautiful curve. He shifted with a heavy sigh. “Come. Let's get you to The Manor so Rhysand can come get you.” The look of relief washing over your features tugged at his heart. The bond had not snapped for you, but he didn't need to feel your emotions to know you were afraid and very tired.

You took his hand, bracing yourself as he tore through the fabric of the world and landed in a garden outside of his repaired estate. “You need food,” he said casually. “We can either go inside so you can eat while you wait for him, or there's a table out here.”

He wanted to beg you to come inside, to see what he had done, to see what your home should look like. He had imagined for years now a life with you. A life where he heard your laughter every day, where you loved him and he you.

He had rebuilt his home with that life in mind. A grand piano sat centered in a sunroom you'd both use for entertaining. A dais where two thrones sat. Rooms for future children if you want them. He rebuilt the manor with love he had buried away for you. And now he hoped you noticed it, acknowledged it even. You belonged here. You would radiate here.

Aside from showing your body, the black leathers of the Night Court did nothing for you. You needed to be in jewel tones, in light colors. He remembered your skin glowing in the gown at the High Lords meeting. He ignored the pain in his chest as he saw the ring sitting on your finger, the one that matched that dress perfectly.

Blue was a lovely color for you. The silver band was plain as if Azriel had not put much thought into the ring. It was beautiful, but his heart rebroke, knowing it should have been rose gold and diamonds sitting on that finger.

You motioned inside, wordlessly avoiding eye contact with him. He took you to the dining room where dinner had been waiting for him and grabbed another plate and cup.

He served you in silence. The familiarity of the situation almost mocked him. “Thank you,” your voice was so soft it had him almost shivering. It had been 6 years since the war ended, 6 years without seeing or hearing it, and it had his soul burning. He yearned for you. His perfect match.

He nodded. “You're welcome.” He summoned a paper, writing a note to Rhysand and the other High Lords that he had found you and where you had made it to. “Rhys will probably come running, so eat quickly.”

You shook your head. “He's so busy with Nyx lately that he hardly cares what I'm up to. He will send Azriel.” His throat tightened. He'd had to see his mate with her husband.

Your husband, who was probably worried sick, who probably had been searching as far out as he could. “Then you should definitely eat quickly. Mother knows how desperately he probably wants his wife back home.” Tamlin clocked the way your eyes grew sad, the small frown that formed.

“Yeah. I suppose.” He didn't question that sadness, allowing you whatever space you needed to process it alone.

You were so comfortable next to the male who had ruined everything for you that it was almost laughable. Tamlin, to your shock, was warm. He was being kind. He seemed to know what you needed before you even asked. You had pictured Tamlin as this monster for so long. A cruel male with a heart of stone, but his mere presence had something glowing in your chest, sending warmth through your body. “I thought the manor was destroyed.”

Tamlin's green eyes looked towards you, spoon held halfway to his mouth. “I had a reason to fix it, along with the whole court.”

You nodded. “It's really pretty.” The walls were lined with Vining floral, marble floors dancing with natural stone veining. Soft green curtains veiled the large floor to ceiling windows. "Elain would love all the flowers. She used to make me work in the gardens with her. I miss it sometimes."

He seemed to blush at the words. “Thank you. And if you truly miss working gardens, there are plenty here that would love attention." Your lips twitched up, but you two fell back into silence.

Tamlin was unsure of what to say to his mate. A piece of parchment appeared beside him, elegant script gracing the page. “Rhys will be here in a moment with Azriel.”

You nodded before caving and asking the question that had been on your mind since you first met the male in his beast form, breaking down the door to the rundown shack you all called home. “What was the significance of killing the wolf?”

He turned to you, brows raised. “Feyre didn't tell you?” You shook your head, staring at the tea you were holding. “I was cursed by one of Hyberns former generals. In short, I had to make a mortal who hated fae enough to kill one fall in love with me in order to break her spell and free the lands. That wolf was one of my closest friends.” The last sentence was barely audible. “Feyre killing him made her the only one who could break the curse.”

As your face fell into confusion, darkness appeared in the manor, gathering in the corner like a void until Azriel and Rhysand stepped out. “Tamlin,” Rhysand greeted smoothly. You couldn't help but to laugh at the High Lord, covered in paint, hair ruffled, eyes tired. “y/n, are you okay?”

You stood nodding, and Azriel moved quickly to you, arms around your waist as he picked you up and held you close. Once he set you down, you turned to Tamlin. “Thank you for sheltering and feeding me and for the invitation to play in your gardens."

“Of course,” he and Rhysand were locked into a stare down, one Rhysand clearly had every intention of winning. “She is unharmed, Rhysand. Just tired and needing rest. You're allowing him to push too hard.”

Rhys narrowed his eyes, looking to you then back to Tamlin before nodding. “I will consider your opinion. Let's go, y/n. Nyx was distraught when he heard you were missing.” Any chance Tamlin may have had of convincing you to stay faded instantly. You moved to Rhysand, letting him take your hand and examine your face for any injuries. “Azriel, let's go.”

The shadowsinger nodded and spoke coldly to Tamlin. “Thank you for caring for my wife.”

Tamlin hid a scoff behind his wine and nodded. “It wasn't for your benefit, spymaster.” The two glared hard towards each other before Azriel smirked and walked towards you.

A feeling of guilt sat in your stomach, lingering there as Rhys began to summon his magic. “Wait,” you pulled your hand away from Rhys and took a step closer to Tamlin. “I'm sorry.”

The Lord of Spring arched a brow feeling the conflict in you from the bond. “For?”

You took a heavy breath, hands shaking as you subconsciously reached for Azriel's hand. You needed his familiarity, possibly his protection. You were about to tell Tamlin something that may have made everything he had gone through feel empty, like his love for your sister had been for nothing. You took a deep breath, looking up and sending a silent prayer to the Mother.

“Feyre didn't kill the wolf," the faces of all three males dropped, the secret finally coming out and being brought to light. “I did."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr

Lost Bonds Taglist:

@impossibelle

#acotar #acotar x reader #tamlin x reader #tamlin x y/n #tamlin x you #tamlin x archeron!reader

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hometoursandotherstuff · 3 months ago

Text

Thanks to boiled-onionrings for finding this unusual 1990 home in Ashland, OR. 3bds, 3ba, 2,627 sq ft, reduced $80k to $1.1m. I could be wrong, but I still think that $1.1m is too much.

The living room has high ceilings with gothic style windows and an interesting fireplace.

Lion carvings on the fireplace surround ornate glass fire doors.

I always figure that a room is huge if you can fit a baby grand piano in it.

A weirdly shaped, modern-artsy opening to the dining room doesn't really match the style of the fancy traditional stairs.

A few steps up into the dining room. Interesting how they matched the border of the floor to the wainscoting.

The kitchen is large, but a lot of people don't like tile counters, b/c the grout could hold bacteria. I don't like that there's no exhaust over the cook top, can you see the charring on the ceiling?

Small guest room on the main floor.

Down 3 steps there's a sunken family room with a fireplace and door to the patio.

Closeup of the fireplace.

Cute, roomy shower. It has a nice pedestal sink.

Statue perfectly framed in this window going up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, the door to the primary bedroom.

Large primary bedroom has a pitched ceiling and a fireplace, plus sliders to a private terrace.

This is very nice, with a view of the mountains.

The big bathroom looks like it has an office stuck in the small space on the side. Unless it's a vanity area. I don't like the stairs to get into the tub. I wonder fi there's a shower behind the glass block wall.

Fancy door w/a stained glass window opens to a corner bedroom.

This is cute. Looks like a child's room.

Then, this would be the 3rd bath.

The grounds are stunning. Look at this Zen garden.

This is unusual, b/c the patio is in the front of the house.

It's very nice and has a great view.

There are stairs down to the garden, and a paved path to walk around.

Beautiful tranquil waterfall.

This is pretty- a private table in the garden. The lot measures .47 acre.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/520-Glenview-Dr-Ashland-OR-97520/48357333_zpid/

#unusual homes #unusual architecture #ornate homes #houses #house tours #home tour #submissions

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jundundun · 2 years ago

Text

SONDER : SEUNGCHEOL

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 !

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.

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.

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.

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

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thegirlfromblackwater · 3 months ago

Text

If the Van der Linde Gang lived in Modern Times (Modern Au)

Life gives you funny ideas...and I'm going to write them down

Arthur

Would live on a ranch in Montana or Wyoming as a rancher

Offers services like trail rides, lessons, and boarding

Has a herd of cattle

Spends every Sunday watching Rodeos on TV

Watches while sitting in his favorite worn-out armchair

Always has a cold beer and a snack or his dinner while watching

Has a pickup truck that's a bit filthy on the inside. Addresses his car as a "she."

Treats it like a horse: calls it a "good gurl."

Has a mounted Trout and some taxidermy on the walls

The Wifi at the ranch is spotty..doesnt understand why guests need it when they're surrounded by nature

Network Name: MorganRanch Password: Ynnel123

Tried to fix the router once but not exactly tech savvy. Ended up punching it

Texts Albert Mason sometimes

Dutch

Definitely lives in a city either Los Angeles or New York City

Lives in a Snazzy Penthouse in the clouds with a skyline

Works as a motivational speaker

Wears a lot of bling

Has a bar in at his place

Molly always tries to find a way in

Calls Hosea a lot

Has a weird fetish for black, red and white furniture.

Still loves reading books by Evelyn Miller despite that the writer is a nobody living in Idaho

John, Abigail & Jack

They probably live out west on a farm (very much like Beechers Hope)

John works on the ranch and also has side multiple side jobs (thanks to Abigail)

Jack spends his time in the school library

Abigail is obsessed with this one bakery

Molly

Lives in whatever city Dutch lives in

Tries to make herself at home in the penthouse

Famous on social media for her makeup tutorials

The neighbors can usually hear Molly & Dutch fighting

Dutch: "Not now Miss O'shea" Molly: "Pig!"

Bill

Lives somewhere in the Midwest

Works as a truck driver for Walmart

spends a lot of his life on the road

Has a bit of road rage

likes rest stops

when he's not working, he is a part of a biker gang

has a tattoo sleeve and wears a white wife beater

one of those bikers that wears a bandana with the American flag on it

Marybeth

Probably lives in a quaint town on the east coast

Works in a bookstore during the day and is a freelance writer in her free time

Lives in a cute townhouse with a small garden in the front full of flowers.

Her house is cozy

has a seating area with big windows that look out over the street

spends her time writing and reading there

likes to sit at cafes and drink coffee

Lenny

Is a full-time university student by day and bartender by night

Lives in Chicago or Atlanta

Probably double majoring in Business and literature (if that combination even exists)

Lives his single life to the fullest

Mostly an A student who goes full ham on the weekends when partying

Micah

Lives in Las Vegas

Sells illegal drugs

Has no money because he gambled too much

Stays in different hotels

Owns a pawn shop

Everything for sale there was smuggled across the border

Has dealings with the cartels & other shady characters

Hosea

Lives a quiet life out west

Goes to his lake house on the weekends to go fly fishing

Reads a lot of books

Also likes to go hunting

Is a part time English teacher who teaches children to read

Talks to Dutch by phone

Sometimes visits Arthur and stays at his Ranch

Uncle

Lives in a trailer park in Florida where the weather is always warm and the cold won't bother his illness

Sits on a folding chair outside his mobile home

Plays the Banjo

Drinks a beer

Is a complete mess inside

Doesn't own much furniture

Can't work because of the Lumbago

Sweats a lot

Naps and snores too loud

Lives next to a swamp

Javier

Lives in Arizona

Lives in the desert

Grows cactuses

Owns a Music shop

Travels around playing at local bars

Works part time as a music teacher at the local high school

Has a YouTube where he shows off his music

Sadie

Probably lives in a city like Dallas or Denver

Works as a cop

Likes to catch people for speeding and sits on the side of the highway

eats Chick-fil-A while waiting

Watches Dateline

Carries a Taser

Always looks sexy in her uniform

Charles

Definitely lives in a cabin out west

works as a conservationist

Likes National Parks

Goes fishing with Arthur

supports and donates to the Bison Sanctuary (if one even exists)

Likes Camping

Trelawny

Lives a wealthy life in Charleston, South Carolina

Lives in a large southern mansion

Wears a robe to sleep

Has a whole walk-in closet full of clothes and accessories

Has a sauna in the basement where he relaxes

Owns a bunch of fancy cars: He loves his Bentley

Reverend Swanson

Probably lives in Philadelphia

Still works part-time at the church

Mostly spends his time helping people with addictions

Hosts an AA meeting three times a week

Rescues crackheads from the street

Mostly sober

Wrote a memoir on his journey to recovery

Sean

Lives in Boston

Likes the university/young people vibe

works at a pub

Everyone's favorite Bartender

Makes customers laugh

goes back to Ireland once a year

Takes Karen with him sometimes

Karen

Lives in Portland, Oregon

Works at a bar as a bartender and a stripper

Good Pole Dancer

Her large tits are popular amongst the men

Puts on shows in the evening

Talks to Sean a lot

Gets Hammered

Strauss

Works in Finance in New York City

Is a Workaholic

Has no friends

Goes back to Austria every few years

Boring to talk to

Always on a work call

Listens to Classical Music

Tilly

Lives in Nashville, Tennessee

Visits Marybeth a lot

Wants to be a Nurse

Likes taking care of people

Wants to travel around the world

Pearson

Lives somewhere in New England

Owns a restaurant and catering business

The restaurant is interestingly enough called "Pearsons"

Probably has a wife and some kids

Loves Maine Lobster one of those people that wears a bib when eating it because he's messy

Is a good Butcher

Susan Grimshaw

Lives in Florida

Is a housekeeper

Cleans uncles' mobile home once a week

Tries to control Tilly and Marybeth from miles away

disgruntled

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fandom #van der linde gang #rdr2 community #rdr2 modern au #rdr2 headcanons #bill williamson #random #movies #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #lenny summers #john marston #javierescuella

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druidwolf21 · 4 days ago

Text

Shipwreck part 2

Magnus the red/f reader

SORRY IT HAS TAKEN ME SO LONG

I've had a LOT on my plate recently and honestly, the bajillion drafts currently sat waiting for me are a liiiiittle overwhelming!

But here is part 2 finally!

I rewrote it a few times before settling in this!!

As with everything I share, this is not proofread lol

Mostly fluff, some smut at the end beneath the 💦 emoji so you can enjoy the fluff without the spice.

Although even if you skip the smut I recommend reading the last little bit just for a bit of extra context 👀👀

As always let me know what you think!!!

Cw: sexy time beneath the 💦 emoji, brief implied threat

@thisuserislilsilly @jaghatai-khock @moodymisty @beckyninja @lemon-russ @astrohymn @echo-of-damnation @kitty-chan33 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond

A soft breeze carried the scent of fresh grass to you as it tousled gently through your hair, sweet honeyed pollen filling your nose. You smiled as you strolled the garden, running your hands along the top of the waist high hedges that lined the gravelled path and with each step you took, a faint flittering mist caressed your skin.

The garden was large, flower beds surrounded by low hedges were bordered by long paths that swept around in a cross shape, culminating in a marbled fountain in the middle. Each step crunched pebbles underfoot as you strayed from the path to wonder amongst the rainbow hued buds. Your long satin dress pooled around you in a puddle of purples and gold as you knelt to reach for a flower, caressing the soft bell of its petals as you brought it to your nose and inhaled deeply. The bloom was a vibrant red, the crevices of its core lined and flecked with yellow whilst the greens of its leaves were a vivid emerald. The perfume wafting from the blossom was rich and warm, like wine and cinnamon and you smiled as the scent brought forth memories of cold nights around a warm fire, sipping mulled ciders from heated cups. A firm hand on your shoulder pulled you from your reverie and you jumped slightly at the contact, accidentally ripping the flower from its stem as you twisted towards the contact.

"Magnus, you frightened me" you sighed, allowing a soft chuckle to escape you as you looked at the severed flower head settled in your lap, picking it up gently and turning it in your palm sadly.

"my apologies, my lady, I saw you settled in the flower bed and came to make sure you had not fallen" his tone was warm and light as he offered you his hand, lifting you to your feet effortlessly with a gentle pull. Your heart fluttered as Magnus bent and brought your hands to his face, pressing a light kiss across your knuckles, his eye never leaving your face as his lips grazed your skin. "No, thank you, I was just admiring the flowers, they smell wonderful" you felt breathless as he released your hand a rose back to his full height. "I'm amazed you can grow anything at all in this rock"

Magnus chuckled, waving vaguely across the garden. "Did you think me a liar when I told you about the gardens? This took barely a moment for me to make"

You followed his hand as he gestured, admiring the vibrant colours before returning your gaze back to him. "You? You made this? You planted this yourself?" Your eyes widened as you looked up at him in awe "you grew so many flowers? That's amazing!"

The man stilled, his single eye trailing your face as his smile faltered for a moment "I.. certainly 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 them yes" he continued to watch you as you viewed the gardens with renewed vigor, thin opalescent mist curling around you in frail tendrils, before you looked down at your clenched hand and raised it up towards him.

"I'm so sorry, you must've worked so hard" you muttered, showing him the decapitated plant in your grasp "I didn't mean to, it was an accident, it was so pretty so I just wanted to look and..." he shook his head, thick red locks bouncing as he huffed. "It's only a flower, they live such short lives anyway.." he paused as you continued to look down at the quickly wilting petals, cocking his head in thought. "Much like humans I suppose. Such short pretty lives" he mused, reaching down and covering the flower and your hand with his own. "Both so pretty, being plucked by things much bigger than themselves to be displayed and admired, only to die so quickly"

You glanced up at the primarch's face, shifting uneasily at the sudden intensity he watched you with, a shadow seemed to cast over his face as his stare seemed to pierce through your mind and soul. "My lord?" The shift in his face happened so quickly you thought you'd imagined it, the intensity and harshness vanished, replaced by a relaxed smile and gently flushed cheeks. He knelt, dropping to one knee and cupping your cheek with his other hand.

"my apologies, little bird, I was thinking aloud. If the flower upsets you, I can fix it, would you like that?" He searched for yours, questioning as his thumbs ran over your soft skin. You leant into his caress, closing your eyes briefly and nodding "I would like that very much, Magnus"

You felt a warmth in your hand and your eyes shot open, he pulled away from you, and you stood clutching the flower in amazement.

The flower retained its vivid colour, but the once soft petals were now rendered in carved ruby, softly flecked with freckles of gold. The stem of brilliant emerald and jade felt smooth in your hand as you twisted it between your fingers, watching as the light refracted through the crystals.

"how did you.."

He turned away from you and stepped over the hedge, before turning and reaching out towards you. With a cocky smile, he helped you over and pulled you flush against him. "Pretty things are my speciality, little bird"

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Sitting on the bench by the fountain, you felt the soft spatter of water droplets hit your back as you continued to admire the jewelled flower. Magnus sat beside you, long legs sprawled before him and a muscled arm lazily stretched behind you as he quietly watched you.

"is this something all primarchs can do?" You queried, finally setting the flower down on the rim of the fountain, following the soft ripples of colour it reflected into the pool before you returned your eyes to him. He shook his head and the muscles beneath his robe popped as he shrugged and shuffled in his seat. "No, this is something I learned, much to my father's disappointment"

You froze. "This is...warp magic?" Your eyes darted back to the shimmering plant, then back to the man now leaning towards you, single piercing eye trained on your face as his arm rose from the bench and draped fairly across your shoulders, calloused hand resting against your arm.

'does that scare you?"

You had been magnus' guest for 3 weeks now, and he had been the perfect gentleman. Your memories from your first day were hazy admittedly, but each day after he had come to your room and tended your wounds as sat by your bedside. He brought you plates of warm food and brushed out your hair as you ate, telling you tales of the imperium and answering your questions happily when you asked. But he never spoke of the emperor and he never spoke of his rumoured dalliance with chaos.

Were you scared?

You lent into his arm, running a small finger across the burnished skin of his knuckles. "No, I'm not scared of you, Magnus"

You felt his chest vibrate as he hummed, pulling you towards him until your body rested against his ribs with your head nestled against his firm muscle. You felt heat rise in your face at the sudden contact. You and Magnus had danced a fine line of gentle touches, kissed to fingers and the soft grip of his hand on yours as you walked. But this? Feeling the heat of his body against your own, feeling the powerful thump of his hearts. This was new.

Wasn't it?

"I am glad, little bird, I do not want you to be scared." He held you a little tighter as he spoke "your company pleases me and I would like you to be content. happy."

Butterflies burst into flight in your stomach at his words as you sat, soaking in his scent of warm spice and something else? What was that, burning? ozone? No, it was gone, there was only nutmeg, myrrh, cinnamon. You nuzzled into the silk of his clothing as you inhaled, grinning as he continued to grip you tightly.

"the warp should only be feared by those who can't control it"

You froze.

"can you?"

"...for a price"

You reluctantly pulled away from his warmth, blushing furiously as you placed a palm against his firm abs to steady yourself. Magnus refused to meet your gaze as he looked forward over the garden, the mist now dusting the tops of the hedges like a faint pearlecent spray. You slipped from under his arm, sliding across the bench as the primarch rose to his full height. The bliss you had felt just moments ago being pressed to his mass was now smothered under dread as he towered over you.

"what price?" You whispered, tears pricking your eyes as you searched his face desperately, recoiling slightly as he reached for you.

"what price, Magnus?"

He paused as he stretched towards you, his hand stopping inches from you. "Don't you trust me, little bird?" He hand dropped and he sighed. "Very well, I will show you" he rolled his massive shoulders with a Ｃｒａｃｋ and you gasped as he stood before you.

"is... That it? The price.... Was this?"

You looked up at Magnus, eyes widening as your gaze followed the gentle curve of giant wings. The feathers a kelidescope of colour as they ruffled softly with each movement. You rose to your feet and reached out a trembling hand, you brushed a finger along the keratin, admiring the way the dim light bounced from the feathers as they shuddered under your touch. A large hand grasped your wrist and you yelped as Magnus drew your hand away. Kneeling, he clasped your palm against his chest, The strong beat of his hearts vibrated through your bones as his large fingers wrapped softly around your wrists to keep you still.

"do I scare you now, my lady?"

"throne Magnus, no! I thought you were going to kill me!" You laughed, wiping away a tear that threatened to fall. "The way you were talking, I thought you were going to sacrifice me, not grow a pair of bloody wings!" He shook his head at your words, chuckling with you as you fanned yourself.

"No, my lord" you hummed, finally calming down. You pulled your hand away and brought both palms to his cheeks, smiling warmly up at him. "I think you are beautiful"

His face became unreadable, the pupil of his eye narrowing as the laughter died in his throat. Suddenly his hands were on your hips and your back pulling you against him as he kissed you. Melting into his touch, you closed your eyes and tangled your fingers through his thick auburn hair. You whined when he pulled away, chasing his lips for another heated kiss.

"forgive me, little bird, that was too forward" he began, dipping his head at you "I apologize"

You grasped his face and pulled him back towards you, leaning in to taste him again "don't be" you whispered "I want this"

He smirked, a dark desire flashing across his face impossibly fast before his mouth grazed yours once again.

"if this is what you want, little bird"

💦💦💦💦SMUT BELOW💦💦💦💦

Magnus grinned as he pressed a soft kiss against your neck, listening to your breathless sighs as he peppered your skin with gentle touches and nibbles. You'd accepted his wings with no pushing, and now you accepted his advances willingly. His hands kneaded the soft flesh of your hip as he moved back to silence your breathy moans with a kiss. Soon he'd show you his true form, but, this was a very good start. And this time, he had you willing and wanting, without twisting your pretty little thoughts.

You gasped as you felt Magnus nip at your neck, tilting your head to allow his access to the delicate skin as he sucked and nibbled. His lips soon returned to your own, his tongue licking you, teasing to allow him to taste you and you moaned as you allowed him in. His hands roamed your body, gently squeezing at your hips before firmly grabbing your ass. He lent back from you, pawing at your rear as you panted. "Let me have you" he purred, his fingers trailing up your back to find the zip of your dress. "Let me make you mine"

You nodded, too breathless to form words as he pulled the zip down and shrugged the delicate fabric from your body. Red blush flooded across your chest and cheeks as he devoured you with his eye, almost black with desire as his pupil expanded.

"still so beautiful" he muttered before taking a nipple between his teeth and sucking, rolling the sensitive flesh across his tongue and fangs. You head fell backwards, arching forward into his touch as you ran your fingers across his scalps.

Wait

Still? So beautiful?

You didn't have time to linger in the thought as his thumb trailed down your stomach and stopped at your clit, pausing for a moment before pressing down gently on your nub. You felt his mouth twitch as you shuddered at his touch, his thumb beginning to gently rub in circles. He released your breast and licked a trail up your chest and throat before pressing his lips to your ear.

"do you like that, little one?" He whispered, twisting his hand around to run a thick finger through your heat as his thumb continued to rub. "Does it feel good, little bird?" He pressed a finger slowly inside you, feeling your walls twitch and grip at his digit as he curves his finger inside you, pressing into that spot he remembered you liked as he gently dragged, in and out of your core. "Magnus" you panted, hands gripping his shoulders as your ground against his hand, the knot in your belly tightening with each thrust of his finger inside you "please" The knot got tighter and tighter, so close, nearly there. You cried out as you came, your chest heaved and your core spasmed as it rolled over you in waves, whining when you were left feeling empty as Magnus pulled his hand away. You blushed as he put his finger in his mouth, eye staring straight at you as he licked his finger clean. He grinned as you shivered, before standing and picking you up. He carried you the few steps to the bench, his lips locked with yours as he sat resting you in his lap. You ground against him, enjoying his deep grumbles as his hips jerked against you with every move you made.

The soft flutter of feathers caught your eye and you reached around his shoulders, running your fingers along the rainbow wing that sprung from his back. A deep groan erupted from him, encouraging you as your nails dragged along the feathers, tangling deeper between the quills. Your teeth found his ear, nibbling the lobe as you rubbed the pinions "Another price of warp magic, My lord?" You giggled, only to find your shoulder marked by his own teeth in response and he huffed.

"enough teasing" you whispered as you slid away and fiddled with the buttons of his robe, popping them open one by one and placing a soft chaste kiss every inch of ruby skin that was revealed. Finally resting on your knees between his legs as you undid the last button of his robe, you tugged at his trousers freeing his dick from the tight waistband. You grasped him softly, unable to fully grip around his girth, you slid your hand up and down his cock, thumb grazing his tip. You looked up at him with doe eyes as you stuck out your tongue and ran it flat along his length, relishing the sharp hiss of breath he took as you took his tip in your mouth and ran your tongue in circles around him. You began bobbing your head, swirling and flicking as you moved in tandem with your hand, flicking your gaze up to him as you felt his hand stroke your face. "Such a good girl" he moaned, admiring the way your eyelids dropped as you tasted him "so good for your primarch"

His head fell back and his fist bunches into your hair as he jerked his hips upwards to meet you. You gagged around him, eyes running as he fucked your mouth. The taste of salty precum lined your tongue and you gripped his thighs as you continued to gag on his thick cock, you could feel him twitch in your mouth and knew he was close.

Running a hand up his abdomen, you stared up at him until he met your gaze with his own misted stare. As he looked down at you, you thrust your head down as far as you could and hummed, vibrating the soft flesh of your throat and jaw around him.

Your mouth filled with ropes of cum as he finished, hot and thick in your mouth. Before you could swallow, he yanked your head back, looking down at you and fisting himself as he shuddered, threads splattering across your face and breasts as he finally came down from his high.

You opened your mouth, showing him the cum in your mouth before swallowing and opening again sticking your tongue out.

Magnus smiled, a tired content smile as he leant over in his seat and gripped your chin gently, turning your face left and right to admire the mess. "I like this look on you, little bird" he cooed before wiping you with the corner of his robe. You laughed and stood up, collecting your dress from the floor, tripping slightly on the deep furrows carved in the gravel.

Wait, were these always there?

You were swept up suddenly, cradled in strong arms as Magnus carried you back through the garden.

"we should visit the gardens more often, my lady" he laughed, bouncing you slightly with each step. You snorted and rolled your eyes "maybe you could show me something different next time? I'm curious to see what else you've managed to do"

"of course, little bird, I can show you anything your heart desires"

You buried yourself into his chest, sleep lulling you softly into its depths as Magnus' wings enveloped the two of you as he walked.

Around you, with each giant step, the garden succumbed, burning ashes drifting and dissolving into purple sparks as it faded back into the warp.

Nothing left but rock and ruin.

#warhammer 40k x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer x reader #warhammer #warhammer 40k #magnus the red x reader #magnus warhammer

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