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#is your love strong enough verse
aristobun · 2 months
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helene and her horse in the “ is your love strong enough “ verse, in which her companion is jack o’ the green. she is the lady of the spring and her horses name is thunder. i wanted prince but she said thunder so… ⚡️
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ereborne · 3 months
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Song of the Day: February 17
“DYWTYLM” by Sleep Token
#song of the day#Sleep Token really saving my sanity as we navigate this dark and uncertain time without an upgraded sibling singalong playlist#had to go out into the snow on under two hours' sleep to get groceries#(the farmers' market gave me kefir cheese so any amount of suffering would've been worthwhile but I couldn't know that at the time)#and getting into Nick's car knowing there was music I could request that he could play loud as he wanted and I wouldn't want to cry#I mean blessing isn't even a strong enough term. baking a cake for the Sleep Token guy (his name is Vessel) as we speak#anyway this song sounds incredible in the original and then so odd sung acapella. like singing a bass line just a couple beats repeating#polar opposite of my lady indie covers. a song rendered fully unrecognizable when I wander the house mumbling it to myself#the verses do alright I suppose but the chorus is out of the question. the lyrics are so strong too real gut-punch lines#'and my reflection just won't smile back at me like I know it should / and I would turn into a stranger in an instant if I could#and there is something eating me alive I don't know what it is / maybe not that you conceal your feelings they just don't exist'#the whole song is like that it is so so so good. every new Sleep Token song I hear I'm like oh of course yes I see why these are fic titles#(Sleep Token catching up to Fall Out Boy and Hozier in terms of lines I've seen as fic titles. I mean we are really getting up there#and I am definitely not immune. if/when I put up those fanmixes y'all are gonna be seeing some Sleep Token let me tell you)#edit: it stands for 'Do You Wish That You Loved Me' I just realized I never said#didn't even pick lyrics that include it which is nuts when you realize that every verse does twice. whoops
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gaysindistress · 3 months
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Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.
Simon Riley masterlist
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1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.
Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.
Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.
No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.
2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.
I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.
The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.
You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.
Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.
In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.
He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.
3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.
Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.
Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.
He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.
After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?
That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.
He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.
You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.
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aercnaut · 9 months
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tag dump; verses
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tag dump: verses
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cyberjam · 1 year
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ATSV HEADCANON: they have a crush on you . . . ☆
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warnings - none really, super fluffy and adorable :), semi-proof read so i apologize for grammatical errors if there are any! no use of name or y/n, gender-neutral reader!
word count - 2.1k
main masterlist <3
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☆ . . . miles morales
I imagine you two already being well-acquainted friends with each other once he realized his feelings for you. For quite some time he had a crush on gwen but now his heart strings are pulling him towards you, so he's struggling when it comes to addressing his feelings.
If you're in the same room as Miles, he will stare. Any conversation that he was having before is long forgotten and all that's on his mind is you.
Miles doesn't need to study, he's one of the top students in school. But he continues to go on study dates with you because he likes being in your presence and sharing his headphones with you while eating yummy pastries.
He has an entire journal dedicated to you. Said journal includes: small journal entries of his day with you, little quotes of the funny/cute things you've said that stuck with him throughout the day, candid drawings of you that he created whenever you two hung out, cute sketches of you and him stargazing or slow-dancing together (and other secret drawings of him saving you as spider-man and cradling your body in his big strong arms but we won't get into that...)
Miles really can't get enough of you. He laughs extra loud at your jokes even if they aren't funny, his heartbeat quickens at the mention of your name, he'll offer you his jacket even if you don't need it, he always smiles when something reminds him of you, he'll share his headphones with you and shyly ask if you and him can make a "study playlist" (he listens to it at night while drawing you), and overall is just madly in love with you.
He wants to be with you more than anything, he's just struggling to find the right time to ask you. <3
"Hey, don't touch that! It's- No! It's not a diary, it's just...secret."
☆ . . . gwen stacy
She's pretty awkward herself. You were assigned to be partners for a project that would play a big part in your final grade, she came off slightly cold and seemed to be annoyed at your presence which made your relationship start off rocky. In reality she was just stressed, juggling her spider duties, getting kicked out of her house, and then school on top of that, it was just a lot. But when you made the effort to plan things and work around her busy schedule (that you didn't really know anything about) she started to become grateful for you.
Your parents welcomed her kindly each time she came over to study and whenever she would leave she was happy with a full belly and a sore face from smiling and laughing with you all night. The project was supposed to be done by the end of the semester but you and gwen were able to finish it the first month you got it. That didn't stop her bi-weekly visits, that then turned weekly, until she was suddenly walking home with you everyday, from and to school.
She likes to compare hands, shoes, and height just to see the difference in sizes. On walks back from school she'll give you a piggyback ride if you ask nicely. She also likes laying her head in your lap, if you run your fingers through her hair she'd be fast-asleep within 5 minutes.
You and her tend to share your oversized clothes together, You always wash her jackets/sweaters after you wear them, which she absolutely loves. She's fallen asleep curled up in your hoodie, inhaling the scent and listening to whatever song you rambled about the previous morning on repeat until she finally asks you to just make her a playlist. Hobie definitely knows about you, only because she slipped up by saying too much.
She enjoys staying over your house during rainy days. She tends to tense up whenever you're watching tv together on your bed and your head falls on her shoulder. During missions in other spider-verses gwen has taken little souvenirs from different worlds and given them to you, she always does it in a nonchalant way as if she wasn't grinning ear to ear on her way back, excited to see how you'd react.
You don't have sleepovers often but when you do they always seem more intimate than your usual hangouts. When you wake up and see gwen flustered on the other side of the bed you never understand why, not knowing that when you were fast asleep she woke up cuddled into you, nuzzling her body into yours.
"I-uhm. I-uh just had a weird dream. Nothing to worry about, heh.."
☆ . . . pavitr prabhakar
It's very obvious he has a crush on you, it might as well be written on his forehead. He follows you around like a lost puppy. He's constantly offering to carry your books, opening doors for you, paying for your snacks, and even giving you hand massages when you've been writing an essay for too long. He's just completely whipped for you and you're not even dating (yet).
You were a transfer student and he was assigned to show you around Mumbai. He found himself getting giddy at your cute reactions to the different sights he took you to. He adored how you were filled with so much curiosity and wonder, the awestruck look in your eyes when you saw the pretty lights at night and just how genuinely excited you seemed to stay and explore Mumbai. Since then, he's been glued to your side.
He's such a gentleman, you can tell he was raised right. Whenever you're talking his full attention is on you, nobody else matters in this moment but you. He'll even get a bit upset if someone cuts you off, ignoring whatever they're saying and urging you to continue. His legs feel wobbly around you, he gets dizzy at the sight of you, and he feels like he's floating whenever you smile at him.
There have been multiple occasions where you've caught him staring at you, depending on how he feels that day he'll either smirk and gently wave or quickly turn away with a blush on his face. He gushes about you to Hobie and Miles all of the time. They know so much about you and they've never even met you.
A true romantic. He buys you a singular flower one week out of the day, always explaining the meaning and where they originate from. (all of them are a variation of romance/love)
He tends to lean into you whenever you speak. More than one person has pointed out that you both tend to mirror each other's actions. He's feigning for your touch more than anything, a simple brush of your shoulders and he's full on putty in your hands.
He won't outright confront you when he figures out you like him, instead he'll invite you on a nightly walk. Taking you up to a rooftop with a gorgeous view, and gently resting his jacket on your shoulders. You'll sit for a while enjoying the scenery before he turns to you and says...
"a person as beautiful as yourself shouldn't wander this world alone.."
☆ . . . hobie brown
What a nightmare. He is constantly teasing and flirting with you. Always doubling over in laughter when he sees you get all flustered and the words you so badly wanna spew at him get stuck in your throat.
I imagine you both to be spider-people, you're a little more stuck-up than he is which is why he likes to tease you so much. Little by little your reactions fueled something deeper in him. He no-longer found himself flirting with you because he liked seeing how aggravated he could get you but because that was his way of approaching you and saying all of the things he wanted to while being able to play it off as a joke.
Besides teasing you relentlessly, he can be really caring and attentive to you when he wants to be. If you're in the medic he'll stop by pretty often to make sure you're okay. The only reason you found out is because you woke up to him fast asleep next to your bedside, feet propped on your bed and his vest laid across his torso like a blanket.
He'll eat the foods on your plate that you don't like. If you fall asleep he'll lay his vest onto your body and even move your position if it looks uncomfortable. If he senses danger before you he'll move you of the way as fast as he possibly can, but if he's not close enough he'll give you a heads up before anyone else. He tends to stare at you sometimes, always smiling gently to himself.
When you two get closer as friends he'll play any song on his guitar if you ask him nicely. He'll even give you lessons if you really want them. Carefully throwing his guitar over your torso, he brings his much larger hands to yours. You can feel his chest against your back, and the waves of his warm breath on your neck as he teaches you how to play. He'll also let you wear his jacket, saying it looks better on you than him. He might let you keep it, only in exchange for one of your jackets. (he sleeps with your jacket on, it makes him feel close to you.)
Hobie often checks up on you during missions, sometimes saying teasing phrases to get you riled up but mostly to make sure you're holding up okay. "you alright there, peaches? you took quite the hit."
Once he finds out you like him, he eases up on the teasing, but he doesn't refrain from dropping subtle hints of his knowingness that you like him. He's just waiting for you to finally say something.
"Yknow, if i ain't know any better i'd say you were doing this 'cause you like me."
☆ . . . miguel o' hara
You worked beside him in Alchemax, the two of you were assigned as partners. At first he didn't care much for you, simply telling you to stay out of his way and that he didn't need any help, but after Lyla practically forced him to be a cordial lab partner and work with you, he started to take a liking towards you. Sadly, it took months for him to tolerate you and even longer for him to like you.
Although he was quite stuck-up and practically seemed on edge most of the time, you were able to break through those confined walls and have a comfortable-playful work relationship with him. Every-time you made a joke or a light quip about his attitude he'd always respond with sarcasm, still not being able to hide the tiny smile that graced his face at your foolish acts.
He always runs his projects by you before submitting them. (and then lyla to triple check) He'll stop by and pick up empanadas from his favorite store, always boasting about how it's the best in Nueva York and you'll never taste anything better. Eventually he brings in a hefty share of empanadas that you two share over lunch time, your conversation flowing naturally without the teasing but with a fluffier feeling flowing through the air.
He pretends to be annoyed when he catches you over-working but he's genuinely worried for you. Always shaking his head in a disapproving way when he finds you fast asleep on your desk, papers scattered, and drool falling past your lips. Quietly scolding you in spanish before throwing his lab coat over your shoulders and organizing your papers neatly.
He tends to act unbothered when you do something that shows you care for him but in reality it makes his heart stutter and his stomach feel all loopy. He hates it because it makes him feel like a middle-schooler when they get their first crush but another part of him absolutely adores it and his main motivation to get up to go to work in the morning is you, although he'll never admit it.
If a co-worker is ever rude to you he will be the first to defend you, not hesitating to get in their face with a nasty scowl painting his features. On Friday's he made it his personal mission to walk you home, you two slowly walk side-by-side, quietly laughing to yourselves as you reminisce on lab accidents and old memories. There's a slight gleam in his eyes when you make it to your apartment door. He turns to you almost hesitantly, before stepping closer to you. He whispers a question, so quiet and soft you almost wouldn't be able to hear it.
"Can I kiss you?"
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omg i hope you guys liked it! requests are still open btw and thank you for reading! <3
likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33
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murdrdocs · 3 months
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dacryphilia; implied squirting; paul calls r "desert mouse" bc i said so; MDNI 18+ w/ PAUL ATREIDES
you're wasting too much water.
deep beneath the focus on pleasure, somewhere woven between your strong desire to reach the end, is the nagging realization that you are wasting too much water.
yet, it is not your fault at all.
paul did not listen to you when you told him to take it slow.
the wind had picked up today, a sure sign of a storm approaching, and in result arrakis had been just a little cooler. not extremely significant, but noticeable.
it had been cool enough to take more exertion to break a sweat. cool enough that stilgar was not nagging about water conservation. and paul, in the mood to take advantage of the circumstances, turned to face you once your leader was distracted. he wore a boyish smile that was subtle enough to go unnoticed by anyone who did not know him as well as you did.
but you knew paul almost as well as you knew yourself. and unfortunately, you feel as if he knows you better.
he knows your body better.
you would not call him an expert, at least not to his face, but paul is extremely adequate and well versed in the topic of your pleasure points. he knew the pace he needed to set, where he should angle his hips, what words would spur you on and calm you down. he is dedicated, a hard worker who could not half do something even if his life depended on it.
like usual, his efforts yielded great results. a little too great, as your secretion is entirely paul's fault.
tears glide down your warm cheeks, spreading out towards your ears if they are too quick for either of you to catch. paul, certainly feeling bad about the state he has put you in, is attempting to do his part. he has one hand dutifully on your cheek, the still-soft pad of his thumb catching your tears and gently guiding them back into your mouth.
"don't waste them, desert mouse," he tells you, a stupidly charming smirk on his lips the entire time as if he is proud of himself.
you know he is, because it had not taken much to get you to this point at all. he kissed you, removed your stillsuit with his to follow, slid into you with humiliating ease, and then he began to fuck you.
there were times where you and paul made love within the secluded area of your shared tent, but that was not what he did to you. he took you like your body was his and only his to own.
your legs wound around his lithe hips, your eyes welling up with tears of pleasure as you watched his toned figure work through blurry vision. he kept you compliant with encouragement. delicately spoken words of praise. as soon as you opened your mouth to tell paul to slow down, worried about the low possibility of dehydrating your body, paul would speak before you could.
"doing so well for me. staying so quiet. just a little more. you're close, yeah?"
and you were. you've been so, so close this entire time, but held back on your own direction. for fear of letting go was threateningly paired with fear of excretion you could not afford.
your thigh pack lay off to the side, completely useless, and there is nothing more you wanted than to strap it onto you and finally get to let go with assurance that whatever it was that wanted to come out of you would be conserved.
but that assurance did not exist. and paul, like the thoughtless man he tended to become whenever he had you underneath him like this, clearly could not care less.
"come on," he tells you, his voice a low and deep rasp as he starts to rut into you with more determination. his eyebrows furrow, they dip a bit into a look similar to the one he wears when he fights. his hair, tousled from both the wind and the exertion, bounces in lazy curls with every single movement. they provide a tether, one that keeps you distracted enough to avoid cumming.
until paul takes his hand and grips your chin, pulling your gaze to him.
"look at me," it's a command and you find yourself easily following it. "i know you wanna let go. can feel you squeezing around me. need you to do it."
you start to shake your head, pleading with paul for him to understand just why you could not afford to let go like this.
but he shakes his head, too, tutting gently, softening his voice to one you cannot ever turn away from.
"it's okay," he promises. "just let it go. it'll be okay. i got you."
"it's a waste," comes your feeble response.
"don't worry about it. i want it. we'll make up for it." he leans down, pressing his lips to your warm forehead once before lowering his face enough to nudge the tip of your nose with his.
then, he tells you, "i'll even clean you up."
and it's really not your fault that you let go instantly.
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catopoliscat · 2 months
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sweet dreams, good morning / fem!reader/kento nanami.
you and your boyfriend nanami usually showered at different times. this morning, he decided to join you.
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tags: nsfw. 18+. fem!reader. afab!reader. established relationship. shower sex. penetrative sex. no set timeline but presumed canon!verse. fingering. creampie. unprotected sex (wrap it kids). nanami had a little dream about you. no use of y/n or any other placeholders. ever.
wc: 3.6k.
a/n: inspired by some nsfw pieces @jimwackthesecond sent to me of nanami on discord, ty babes I'm still throbbing about it
mdni.
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It was rare for Nanami to join you like this. 
Even after months of living together, of being by each other's side; of cooking, eating, drinking and sleeping next to one another—showers together were rare. It wasn’t any conscious decision, really, just a difference in routine. You preferred to shower in the mornings. Nanami preferred to shower in the evenings. Small moments of solace and quiet amidst the hot water and soap. A moment of solitude between lives so tightly intertwined. 
Today, however, Nanami had surprised you. 
You were halfway through your usual semi-methodical routine, soap suds still clinging to your arms and chest, when you felt the door open. A cool gush of air rushed through the fog of the warm bathroom for a moment, skittering up your back in a gentle caress. You shiver, hearing Nanami’s familiar footsteps, but think little of it. You had thought you had been quiet when you had slipped from his sleepy embrace, wanting to give him a longer lie in bed for once—but perhaps you hadn’t been quiet enough.
Any moment, you had expected the tap to start running, the sound of toothpaste being uncapped and bristles against white teeth. Instead, the sound of rustling clothes just about reaches your ears over the sound of water thudding against the tiles beneath your feet, and then comes the slide of glass, a footstep and—
—strong, warm arms encircling your waist tightly, as if you might disappear into smoke if he let go. 
You smile softly to yourself as Nanami presses up close against your back, hard pectorals slotting against the ridges of your shoulder blades. The heat of his chest is a strong match to the warmth of the water against your front, seeping into your bones and warming you from the inside out. 
A nose nudges at the crook of your neck, moving upward before soft lips press against the spot right behind your ear. You chuckle softly, leaning back into the caress, eyes fluttering shut. 
“Not like you to shower in the morning,” you murmur, barely audible over the rush of the water. 
A low hum is your response. The arms wind tighter, and a large, calloused hand settles on your navel. His thumb brushes up and down in a languid, repetitive motion. You shiver slightly.
“I had an incentive,” Nanami replies, his voice a husky rumble, throat still thickened with the remnants of sleep. He presses another kiss against your skin, his lips lingering this time. “You don’t mind?” 
You chuckle again, shaking your head as you settle it back against him, feeling the hard ridge of his collarbone against your skull. “Of course not.” 
Even after all this time together, seeing each other at your most vulnerable, Nanami was always aware and respectful of boundaries, even unspoken.
A contented silence settles in the bathroom, broken only by the spray of the showerhead. Morning sunlight spills through the frosted, dewy glass, reflecting off the mirror that paints a portrait of a couple, very much in love. Nanami’s thumb continues its gentle caress, a soft swipe up and down that becomes as familiar to you as your own heartbeat. His other hand rests against your ribs, just underneath your breast, but makes no move to touch or cup it just yet. 
A sleepy comfortability takes over you. Between the heavy warmth of the water and steam, as well as the steady thrum of Nanami’s heartbeat behind you, you find yourself leaning more and more into his form. He supports you easily, hands tightening just slightly to bear more of your weight. You start to distinctly remember why you rushed through showers in the morning—sleep still clinging to your mind like condensation on glass. 
It was a weekend, though. Neither you nor Nanami had any work or missions, no business or meetings. There was no world to save. Not today. 
“I could fall asleep like this,” you mumble, eyes still shut. 
Another feathery kiss, against your shoulder this time. “Do you want to go back to bed?” 
Although the idea of crawling back into still-warm sheets is appealing, you shake your head. This was enough. More than enough. 
You wind a hand down your body, settling it above Nanami’s own where it rests against you. You don’t hesitate to intertwine your fingers with his, and he doesn’t hesitate to hold them, giving them a small squeeze. 
With his one thumb now restricted, his other thumb takes over its brother's repetitive motion, occasionally brushing against the underside of your breast. Although initially accidental and easily forgotten, the movement gradually becomes more intentional. Daring. One particular sweep brushes over the swell of your breast. The next is even higher, just across your nipple.
An involuntary breath leaves you as the slight sensation causes familiar goosebumps to erupt across your skin. Your lips part slightly as you arch into the touch, the curve of your back pushing your hips back into— 
Ah.
A soft puff of breath leaves Nanami’s lips as your ass brushes against his cock, the hard length rubbing up against the cleft. His grip tightens on your hand, and you can feel his responding shudder. He quickly moves his hips back again, keeping his chest pressed up against you instead.
You smile to yourself, a touch wryly. Nanami wasn’t easily worked up, and certainly not in tender moments like this. You can’t help but wonder if this is the product of just the proximity, or something more. 
“I’m flattered that my sleepy morning self has this effect on you,” you drawl, a layer of amusement in your tone that you can’t quite shed. 
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, as if he has anything at all to apologise about. “I…” 
You feel his lips open against the skin of your neck, but he shuts them again. That makes you raise an eyebrow, your eyes blinking open to squint against the steamy bathroom. You try to angle your head to get a look at him, but the angle is difficult. When you try to turn your body to face him properly, however, his arms tighten around your waist, preventing you from doing so. 
It wasn’t like Nanami to be this… reserved. Not this far into your relationship. 
“Nanami?” 
Another gush of air flutters against your wet shoulder, something close to a sigh of resignation. “I dreamt about you,” he finally says, the words imprinted against your skin. “This morning.” 
Ah. 
A wet dream? Hardly something to be self-conscious about, you think. Especially when you were clearly the star of said dream. Nanami was always oddly prudish around certain things, however. Traditional, in some senses.
“Oh? How rude, we hardly know each other.” 
You can almost feel the responding eye-roll in response to your teasing humour. He gives a small squeeze to your intertwined fingers, as if telling you to take this seriously—though you refused to. A dream was a dream, and you were less concerned with the fact he had one and more concerned with what exactly was in it. 
“I’m a thirty-year-old man,” he grumbles. 
“Who’s still human,” you remind him. You push your hips back again, pleased to feel Nanami’s cock still very much hard, nearly pulsing, against the swell of your ass. He exhales a slow, steadying breath, but makes no move to pull his hips away again. “Tell me about it.” 
Another small sigh against your shoulder. You can practically feel his hesitation, unwilling to unveil the explicit nature of his dream just yet. 
You push yourself back against him again, a slight movement of your hips that has his cock pressing a little deeper against your skin. You buy yourself a small grunt in response, a choked sound that hitches in the back of his throat.
“Come on,” you chuckle, the sound a little throaty now. Sensing he needed a little more push, you unlink your hand from his to lay atop his other one, guiding it up to cup your breast properly. “Did I at least look good?” 
“Mm.” He gives your breast a small squeeze; a well-practised, perfect amount of pressure that always makes your thighs clench together. “So beautiful… as always.”
“Where were we?” 
Another hesitation, though shorter this time. He occupies the time by kneading your breast slowly, massaging it almost in his calloused palm. “On a beach. It was just us. White sand, palm trees, lapping waves… the sun was so warm.” 
You smile at the picture he paints in your head. “I’m sure we made it feel warmer.” 
You feel a shuddering breath against the back of your neck before he hums in agreement. You can only imagine that whatever memory of his dream is replaying in his mind is a good one, because he presses his cock against you more firmly. 
“Yes,” he mutters against your nape, before pressing a hungry, hot, open-mouthed kiss against the skin there. “You have no idea what you do to me.” 
By the way he’s groping at your breasts and ever-so-subtly grinding his hips against your ass, you would say you have a general idea. You want to press him for more details on his dream. What did you do to rile him up so? What did he do in the dream to make him pursue you to the shower when he awoke? 
All those thoughts and questions are disappearing from your mind, however, as the hand against your navel is drifting down between your thighs. Your lips part in a soft exhale as he cups your heat, his middle finger running down your slit almost teasingly, smearing the dripping shower water along with your own arousal. 
Another shuddering breath fans against your neck as he dips his middle finger between your folds. “You were so wet, so tight around me,” he whispers, his words almost swallowed up by the sound of the shower and your own heartbeat in your ears. “It was maddening. I… I couldn’t stop.” 
He circles your clit once, causing your hips to twitch and a soft moan to leave your lips, before he dips his finger down, pressing it against your entrance before sinking inside. You both seem to moan simultaneously as your inner walls clench tight around his thick digit.
“You were so…” He swallows thickly around another groan. “…loud. Insatiable.” 
In, out, in, out. He thrusts slowly, languidly, as if savouring every contraction, every syrupy moan that left your plush lips. Slick gathers quickly, and before long the sound of his thrusting finger becomes wetter and wetter. A second finger soon joins the first, his palm pressing against your clit as his ministrations quicken, your thighs shaking in response. The steam of the shower, the heat of Nanami at your back, the fog of lust in your mind and the increasing pulse between your legs—it makes your head swim, your mind hazy and uncoordinated. 
He curses as you grip his fingers particularly tight, as if imagining the sensation around his cock instead. You feel a pressure against your nape, and you dully realise it's his forehead, hot and wet with sweat and water. “Please,” he murmurs, his low voice hot and wanting. “Can I have you? Here?” 
Even after all this time, he still asked—still cared enough to ask—even though your answer was always the same. 
“God, yes,” you’re replying before he’s barely finished his question, every thought in your mind evaporating into the same steam swirling around you. 
You’re leaning forward, arching your back before he even makes any move to position you, both of your palms resting against the cool tile of the bathroom wall. Shower water sprays across your shoulders and the back of Nanami’s neck as his head follows your descent, forehead now planted between your shoulder blades. His fingers don’t stop their ministrations, but his other hand does disappear from your breast. A moment later, you gasp as you feel his fingers slip from you—replaced instead by a familiar pressure. 
His cock, thick and heavy, presses against you, hesitating for only a moment before pressing forward slowly. The thicker head slips past the tight ring of muscle with a sharp stretch, your lips falling open in response as a ragged moan leaves you. No matter how many times you had done this, Nanami’s cock was always a stretch, making each time seem like the first all over again. 
“God,” he gasps, his jaw falling open against your shoulder blade. “P-Perfect… so perfect.” You can feel him practically shaking with restraint as he pushes forward slowly, oh-so-fucking-slowly, until his hips finally meet your rear. As always, he gives you a moment to adjust, no matter how wound up or turned on he is—his one hand bracing against the wall near your own, the other winding back around your waist to circle your clit with slow, languid movements. 
You’re shaking too, you realise, hands slipping on the wet shower wall. You clench tight around his cock despite his attempts to relax you, too wound up and dizzy with arousal to care about the discomfort. Bucking your hips back, you try to press him impossibly deeper, as if you weren’t already full of him. 
He groans at the attempt though, the slight friction you grant him causing his fingers to stutter against your bud. Quickly getting the hint, he pulls back just a few inches before sinking back into you again, just as slowly as before. You both moan again at the delicious drag, before he starts to set a slow, steady rhythm—pulling out a little deeper every time until the tip threatens to slip from you with each thrust. 
You had expected something quick, frantic perhaps. The dream he had seen had clearly riled him up. But Nanami was still Nanami—slow and methodical, passionate and loving. 
Long, hot puffs of breath fan against your neck, matching the slow, sensual rhythm of his hips against you. You can feel his eyebrows knitted against your back, and in your mind's eye, you can already picture his expression perfectly. Flushed skin on his high cheekbones, the sweat on his brow, the slight scrunch of his eyes and parted lips. 
Every thrust pushes deep, his slow pace ensuring that you felt every inch of each push until he bottomed out, only to repeat the whole cycle once more. His hand on the wall slips, bumps against your own, and with trembling fingers he places it on top of yours, pinning it against the wall before intertwining your fingers tightly. 
“I love you,” he groans, his voice thick and gravelly. “I love you, ngh—“ He pushes deep again, stills for a moment as he grinds against you, before withdrawing again. “I love you so much.” 
You meet his every thrust, pushing your hips back until your skin meets his with a satisfying ‘pap’. The slow, deep pace is driving you insane, deliciously perfect and yet wildly maddening. You can feel the heat pool in your gut with every stroke, the warmth blooming hotter and hotter like the slow lap of waves, threatening to consume you. 
You’re greedy, you know. You need more.
You push your hips back in a quicker rhythm and Nanami’s hips stutter in response, his rhythm thrown off. He hisses, clenched teeth brushing against your nape. The fingers on your clit disappear, a strong hand grasping the plush flesh around your hip instead, steadying you. You expect him to stop you or slow your rhythm down, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stops thrusting altogether, allowing you complete control of the pace as you fuck yourself on him. 
He’d always allow you to take what you wanted from him. 
“Ah, y-yes, yes—“ you pant, forehead pushing forward to rest against the cool tile. You tilt your hips, angling Nanami’s cock to prod against the exact spot you need him. He curses in response to the harsh clench of your walls around him, his hips bucking forward involuntarily. “Kento—“ 
“Tell me what you, ngh, need,” he grits out, now matching your rhythm until the clap of your flesh starts to match the pour of the water. The hand on your hip slides up, caressing your waist in loving strokes before winding around, palming at your breast again. “A-are you close?” 
“Yes!” You start to push back harder, more frantically. Nanami instantly matches it, thrust for thrust, the head of his cock dragging against your sensitive point with almost pin-point accuracy. He pinches, tweaking your nipple in a way that makes your thighs shake. “Harder, I need it—“ 
You don’t even have to say another word before both of Nanami’s hands disappear, only to grip your hips tightly. You feel the warm of his chest leave your back as he straightens, replaced by the spray of the shower water instead. A moment later, his pace becomes almost punishing, the hard lines of his Adonis belt hitting against the flesh of your rear with a smack. 
You practically reel, something guttural and primal leaving your lips as you arch forward, bracing fully against the tiled wall in front of you. You can feel your flesh ripple, your breasts jolting with the wet smack of flesh against flesh. Even now, he’s careful never to push harder than you need it, but experience and attention allows him to get it perfect. He was always perfect. 
A chorus of ‘just like that’ and ‘yes’ leaves you in a symphony, your eyes rolling and eyelids fluttering simultaneously. It doesn’t take long until you're practically clamping down on his cock like a vice, your lower stomach clenching impossibly tight as ragged, fractured moans tear from your lips. Distantly, you wonder if you’re as loud as you were in his dream—or maybe louder. 
Nanami doesn’t fair any better, harsh grunts and choked groans leaving in him in rhythm with the clap of his hips. With each thrust, it seems his body hunches further inward until he’s practically curled over you, his grip tightening on your hips, thumbs digging into your skin. Deep moans smother against your shoulder as lathers you with kisses, half-formed praises coating your skin with his love. 
“I’m close, my l-lo-“ He chokes up, curses, hips stuttering as he tries to maintain the hard pace. He starts pulling your hips back to meet his, cock plunging seemingly deeper and deeper—  
Stars are exploding behind your eyes a second later, your abdomen clenching and rolling as you cum hard around him. You call out his name, you think, jaw falling slack as Nanami continues to thrust and thrust you through your climax, pushing you toward oversensitivity and fast. You’re clenching down on him tighter and tighter, unable to stop as you babble nonsensically, delirious and drunk on steam and release. 
“S-Shit,” he hisses, his voice barely there, just breathless and torn. “So b-beautiful, so perfect, I love you, I love—“ 
A second later, Nanami’s following you over the edge; a deep, broken moan leaving him as his cock twitches and throbs, spilling into you. He continues to move, his hips erratic and rhythm broken, just bucking disjointedly as his voice cracks and splinters.
You’re trembling, he’s trembling, both of you panting and moaning weakly as Nanami continues to grind against you, albeit slowly. You rest your forehead against the cool tile in front of you for a moment, your hot breath making the ceramic fog up—before Nanami’s arms wind around your waist, pulling you back up and against his chest. 
Your thighs are shaking, body nearly limp in his arms, but he supports you once more easily. Soft kisses and brushes of his nose rain down against the crook of your neck as his hand brushes up and down your stomach, his cock still throbbing weakly inside your warm grip. You let your head loll back against him, a tired, contented smile on your lips. 
You reach a hand up and behind you, fingers fumbling for a moment before his head leans into them. You card your fingers through the short, wet strands behind his ear, a small sigh fluttering against your ear in response.
“We should shower together more often,” you murmur, which earns you a small, slightly breathless chuckle, the rumble of his chest vibrating against your back. 
Eyelashes flutter against your neck as he closes his eyes. “We should.”
“In the evening though,” you add. Between the hot water and well, everything else, your body was sated but drained. “I really could fall asleep now.” 
The idea of stepping out of the warmth of the shower and Nanami’s embrace only to get dressed and continue with whatever you had planned for the day wasn’t an appealing one. As if sensing this, his arms hold you tighter, unwilling to break the moment, or your intimate connection, just yet. 
“Then do,” he murmurs against your ear, before pressing a soft kiss to the shell. “I’ll take you back to bed.” 
And you know he would. You know that if you were to fall limp in his arms right now, he’d carry you; dry you off and settle you amongst the sheets again as if you’d never left them. It wouldn’t even be a question. 
You stay awake though, body still thrumming with remnants of your connection and your muscles at ease. Tilting your head slightly, capturing a glimpse of his profile, you raise an eyebrow.
“…so?” 
Nanami meets your gaze, raising an eyebrow in turn. “So?” 
“Was it as good as your dream?” 
He closes his eyes with a tormented sigh, burying his nose back into your skin. “…it always is.” 
You let out a laugh of disbelief, angling your head to try and face him better despite him seemingly burying his face in your skin deeper, unwilling to meet his gaze. “Always?! How many dreams have you had about me like this?”
You feel a small nip at your neck, just a brush of teeth really, but that seems to tell you that these ‘dreams’ of his were far more a regularity than the stoic sorcerer was willing to let on.  
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phyrestartr · 25 days
Text
Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.2) NSFW
W/C: 3.2k #NSFW, THEY FUCKIN', bottom!reader, top!sukuna, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, sukuna ignores feelings through the force of sheer willpower, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, dubcon elements, blood as lube (SORRY), Sukuna unhinged horknee, ABO elements
A/N: I wanted to make this include more parts, but I am so flabbergasted and in awe of the response to this fic that I feel the need to feed y'all feral creatures LMAO. JKJK but 👀 Thank you for all the feedback and support! It really gives me the motivation to continue writing and to interact with the JJK community. I'm having a lot of fun!
tags: @kamote-kuneho @kamote-kuneho @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah
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“What the fuck is this?” Sukuna drawled, an intense fury simmering through his being. His gaze couldn't tear free from you, not even to size up the blindfolded weirdo watching him intently. 
He shattered the coffin, freeing you from the makeshift cursed bath some freak had forced you into. He smoothed damp hair from your sickly face and searched for sparks of life somewhere in the cold stillness that'd overtaken you. And there was something. He found it, a little glimmer of vitality in the smallest, shakiest inhale. 
“Good,” he praised, brushing your hair back more and more to get a better look at your face. You looked like the frail little thing he saved all those decades ago.
“You know,” Gojo interrupted, but Sukuna paid him no mind, “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you actually cared about that kitsune.” 
“Then you don't know what this is,” Sukuna decided blandly. “Figures.” Kenjaku kept him off the record, huh? Guess that's a bonus.
“Oh? Do you wanna enlighten me before Yuuji comes back?” Gojo smiled, as if he really expected Sukuna to play nice and be honest with him. “Come on, come on, it's your chance to be vulnerable~” 
“Tch. Pretty damn sure the fox'll be the one to tell you.” His hand smoothed over your stomach and rubbed slow, gentle circles against your skin as reverse technique sought to bring you all back to him. “He yaps about as much as your insufferable ass does. Granted, he talks a lot nicer.” 
“Wow, rude.” Gojo sighed and clapped twice as if clapping on a light. “Okay! I've had enough bullying. Yuuji–” 
“Brat, don't you fucking dare–” 
Yuuji inhaled sharply. He blinked owlishly at your calmed expression, your eyes now closed and breathing now steadied thanks to Sukuna's aid. 
Aid. That wasn't something the king did. 
“Sensei,” Yuuji managed, voice quivering under the weight of memories’ emotion. “Can you fix this?”
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Somehow, you were stuck in the throes of flirtation with the malevolent king of curses. 
“It may be courtship,” Uraume guessed, soft smile brightening their cold exterior. 
(They'd been smiling more recently, actually, ever since you completed that overcoat and presented it to them. Nary a day went by when they did not don the sentimental garb.)
But you weren't so sure; the event of courtship was serious business across all lucid creatures. Animals and creatures of primal existence sought out partners with favorable genes and strong constitution, whereas humans and the like yearned for merit or love in their coupling. You didn't quite grasp the way humans thought. Not yet. 
Well, save for flirting. You decided it was a sort of pre-courtship where nothing became serious and nothing was on the line, but frivolous touches and haughty words of praise ran rampant when those concerned crossed paths. 
Much like today.
(Much like the days before and after.)
You walked along the stone-paved path most mornings, lost in thoughts and mumbling to yourself bits and pieces of poems. Most were unfinished, but in their own time, verses would find one another and complete the incomplete. 
A groggy yawn hummed from the palace entrance. And moments later, Ryoumen Sukuna fell into step with you, grumbling and mumbling complaints about the nippy Spring morning while he tucked his arms away into his sleeves. 
He followed you, idly looking around the expansive space you'd helped curate and maintain when you weren't busying yourself with the girls or decorating clothing. The gardens weren't a mess before, not at all, but now they had a certain taste–trees and flowers were planted with specificity, stones were moved, paths reworked. You took the outside over completely. The king didn't mind. 
“Sukuna-sama,” you said, voice melting in kind with the morning frost. “I'll need to leave for a short while.” 
Sukuna quirked a brow and looked at you. You gazed upon the large, thick koi flashing their beautiful scales and ornate patterns of orange and white as they swam and followed you. Tch. How come even the fish were drawn to you? 
“And how do you think you'll accomplish that?” Sukuna tossed a rock into the koi pond, making the fish scatter. “Getting away from me isn't something you can do.”
You huffed and looked at him. “I understand. I simply seek your permission.” 
“Denied.”
“Ah.” You deadpanned. “Why?”
“You're mine; I decide where you go, how you breathe, if you eat. Or are you forgetting that?” 
You sighed and let your ears droop sadly with your tails. “Surely you jest.” 
“Are you laughing?”
You whined like a sad, sad street pup before cozying up to him, slipping your hands up his stomach and chest like you were supposed to. “Please?” 
“No.” 
You chittered and pressed your face against him, but didn't protest and complain much more. 
Sukuna’s thoughts whirled. The show was amusing, sure, but you didn't do anything without reason, especially when it had to do with breaking character and acting out like this out of–
Oh? 
Sukuna leaned down and sniffed you, searching for the intriguing coil of flowery citrus he nearly missed on the warming breeze. It was so, so faint, but decadent and alluring in a way that made the master of toxins cautious–most poisons tasted sweet, after all. 
You pulled your head back, shrinking down the slightest bit with your ears flattened against your skull. Your eyes, wide as a full moon, stared up at him, expectant. The touch of your hands on him never left, though.
“Brassavola nadosa.” Sukuna tilted his head. “You smell like it.” 
You blinked curiously, relaxing. “Is that so?” 
We don't have that orchid in the garden. Sukuna hummed and lifted a lock of your hair, catching another weak waft of the flower's faint scent. 
It's coming from him, then. Hm. 
“Tell me again why you want to leave the palace?” Sukuna asked on a hunch.
And that hunch doubled down when you fidgeted with the cloth of his haori and looked aside. 
“I wish to bear children," you admitted, shy and quiet. "To try, at the very least. Perhaps find a mate, too.” 
Children. You wanted children. After everything those sorcerers put you through for who knows how many years, you still wanted to mother a runt of your own. And you were willing to run off into the wild to, what, let some random man knock you up? Fill you with seed of unknown origin, unknown value, unknown potential?
Sukuna's ego flared. He leaned down to you, tilting your chin up to make you look him in the eyes regardless how small you felt in that moment. He deserved to witness you. You deserved to witness him. 
“You're not leaving,” he breathed, and he swore he could hear your heart break. “If you want a brat, you'll get a brat–only if you stay here 'n give up on those shitty thoughts of finding a sire out there.”
Your eyes scanned his face, tracing over serious lines and honest creases. Clearly, you searched for an answer–
“How?” 
–one that Sukuna didn’t have. Or maybe he did. Perhaps he just couldn't find the words for it. 
He scoffed and ruffled up your hair, unable to answer you. “You're not leaving. Not unless I say so.” 
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The first time he let you go, he left scars. 
He found you in your chambers come early evening. Your tails swished and flicked as you sat amidst a nest of his robes and the missing linens from his chambers while you futzed over the embroidery of another haori, this time adorning the plain thing with the darkest scarlet one could find. Sukuna could already guess why. 
Your being burns as wildfires do. Lively. Emphatically. Devouring more and more so long as the earth lets you. Yet where you do not lay ruin, you grant warmth and light in a divine way. Wildfires are not such horrible things if one stays a respectable ways away. 
Your poetic nonsense irritated him to no end, but he fell enamored all the same; you spoke to honor him with every utterance of his name. You didn't try to kiss his feet nor did you bask him in compliments–you only spoke into existence that which hummed through your mind, unprovoked. It just so happened to be everything Sukuna liked to hear. 
So when he found you secluded away, beckoning so sweetly with intoxicating scents of citrus and gardenia, what choice did he have but to lay claim, to give you the brat you so sorely yearned for?  
You sensed him. Your gaze flicked to him, stoic and unmoved as ever, as the energy in the room built into suffocating silence, something like tectonic plates caught in deadlock, holding their disastrous energy, waiting for the right moment to devastate the world with a single, cataclysmic shift.
And of course, it was the impatient predator that moved first, setting a catastrophe into motion. 
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The hours blurred together. 
Every minute of the chase was thrilling, invigorating, surprising–you were filled with tricks and traps, never slowing down for a second to think or doubt as the beast of a sorcerer pursued you through his palace, through the city below, and now into the looming forest in the mountains. 
Admittedly, he'd gotten carried away. He lost himself in the rush of it all, the adrenaline and pure, destructive desire pushed his self-control into unraveling just the slightest bit; honest attacks tore through space and time, hoping to maim and cripple you if they were to hit. And, honestly, the way you avoided his attempts to strike you down enthralled him as much as it enraged him–he was seconds away from unleashing his domain until a less-than-satisfying ripple of cursed energy tore across your thigh and put you down.
It was then, walking up to you, to his prey, that Sukuna remembered you weren't a sorcerer. Most would be able to stand and walk it off, maybe even heal with reverse technique, but you could only grasp at your weeping wound and grimace. Because you were not a sorcerer, you were a kitsune: a trickster, a creature full of mischief and void of cursed energy. 
Yokai. Not a human. Not a curse. Not like the rest of the boring souls wandering his earth. 
Sukuna pinned you the second you tried to make a break for it. Fangs and claws gnashed and tore into him while his hands strained to keep you down and rip those damn clothes free from your burning skin. 
Mating's never a pretty thing when it comes to nature. Humans like you made it something more.
Sukuna clasped a hand over your mouth and forced his weight onto you, ripping reedy yowls from your core as you twisted and turned, primal mind urging you to run, run, run, don't make this easy, make him prove his worth–
Rip.
Ribbons of what were once your robes fluttered to the ground, useless and unsalvageable. They were plain black, so unlike what you usually wore. You wouldn't miss them. 
“Make this as difficult as you want, pet,” Sukuna whispered as he loomed over you. His hand slid from your mouth to your throat when you stilled.  
“You know how this ends.” 
His pants were pulled down while another hand wiped slippery blood against your pliant entrance–and that was the only warning you got before he pushed into you. 
Where you should have screamed, you instead sighed. Your back arched off the ground like a work of art. Two hands gave up on holding you down in favour of gripping your waist and hips, pulling you closer to him, forcing you flush against his body. 
He noticed it then: a litany of old scars and discoloured marks shining against your skin. Marks left by those who did not deserve to taste such a delicacy. 
Unsightly.
Blood painted the grass. Cleaves and slashes ate away at those tainted scars, painting over the ugliness left hidden for too long–now, his marks would decorate you. Now, those hidden scars would mean something. They’d mean everything. 
Yet Sukuna's selfish maiming wasn't fitting the bill, and your antsy-ness was proof of it. You tried for the last time to pull from him, but his grip tightened around your throat. You gazed at him, then, eyes so wide and hungry, eager to fight or fuck–whichever came first. 
He braced over you and nearly winced as he dragged out of your suffocating heat. A sharp snap back inside loosened you, the glide of blood and slick aiding him. 
“I'll take you the way you need it,” he drawled as he built the pace quickly, already feeling his own obsession and excitement reverberating through his body, filling every fibre of muscle with electricity.
“Then,” he growled, leaning closer to your face. “I'll fuck you the way you want it.”
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“More,” you sighed, digging your nails into the pillow you had your face buried in while the beast fucked you from behind. Sukuna groaned in compliance and lanced into your guts deeper, harder, faster than before–you were the only one that could handle the brutal way he let loose, and he was more than willing to indulge in that privilege. 
The hands all over you rose to the occasion, too; one had your tails fisted in his ruthless grasp, rudely holding you still and pulling you back against his hips; another rested on the curve of your ass, only moving to give a sharp slap or to knead your soft, perfect skin; the last two held your hips in a crushing force, his calloused fingers digging into your plush sides and sharp hip bones like you might disappear at any second. 
A sharp, sweet whine signaled the beginning of the end, as did the restless fidgeting and shifting in the king's grasp. Seeing you, a poised, powerful, mischievous being, come undone beneath him came to be one of Sukuna’s favourite sights, especially knowing it could only be because of him--only him. 
He leaned over you, his heavy chest pressing into your back as one hand released your waist in favour of fisting in your hair and tugging your head back and out of the futon you so desperately clung to. 
“Ah-ah,” he scolded breathily. “No hiding.” It was a familiar sentiment, one he had no problem reminding you of now and again. You had a horrible habit of trying to vanish when overwhelmed, after all. 
“Terrible beast,” you snapped back, scoffing indignantly when the deep bassy laugh of the man rolled through your body. “Horrible.” 
“You love it,” Sukuna growled back, grinning through every word. 
Something about it clearly struck a chord with you, judging by how fast you choked on your voice and came undone, legs trembling and body tightening around the too-big intrusion. The king groaned and bit at your neck, licking whatever blood beaded at the surface in between rushed, hushed words of praise for you and your efforts–most, if they heard the things he said, would call it out of character for the beast. Most didn't get to see beyond his raw power and crippling cruelty, however. 
Sukuna grunted and spilled inside you, pulling you back by your hair, hips and tail to ensure he forced every bit of his offerings deep into your core. Your body rocked and twitched against his, accepting all he had to offer you at the end of yet another coupling, before he let go of your locks and let you collapse face-first into the futon. 
He pulled out slowly, watching as every inch slipped from your abused hole before popping free and uncorking a dribble of whiteness from inside. He tutted and scooped it up with two fingers before stuffing it back in. 
“Oi, oi, are you even trying to keep it in?” He teased, smirking as you huffed. 
“You've exhausted me. I have no energy to attempt the impossible,” you lamented, nuzzling your nose further into the soft sheets smelling of cedar and fresh blooms–something so uniquely Sukuna. 
Your king sighed and gave your ass a firm few pats. “Guess I'll have to spoil you even more.” He settled onto his back and easily pulled you onto him, yanking you up to straddle his waist right where that second mouth laid open and eager to taste you. 
“This is uncouth,” you sighed. But you rocked back against the thick, heavy tongue pressing into your pliant heat, licking deep into you with a mind and hunger of its own. 
“Seems couth enough for you,” he commented, watching you ride his centre with rapt attention. “Little harlot's getting off on this, hey? Such a needy little brat.” 
His hands smoothed up and down your legs and sides as you shamelessly chased a second high. Your hands clasped over his as he took you into his hand and stroked you back to ample stiffness, the soreness of too many rounds of fucking making you far too sensitive to touch. 
“S-Sukuna-sama,” you stammered. “I can't–”
Sukuna's head tilted with a pleased smirk. “Ho? I thought you wanted to bear children? Are my offerings not enough for you?” 
You scrunched your face up into something of a prissy glare, but the shine clinging to your lashes and the shuddering of your body against his betrayed your crumbling demeanor. Of course, he was impressed with how his fox was fairing considering everything he put you through. 
He maneuvered you onto your back, grinning as you growled and weakly struggled against him. You looked perfect–stomach swollen, hair fanned out behind you, eyes teary but unable to tear away from the creature that’d tormented you for hours upon hours with no desire to give you a break. 
“Greedy god,” Sukuna lamented. One hand came to rest on your bruised neck again, fitting around so perfectly. “Nothing’s ever fucking good enough for you.” 
“You are.” 
That gave Sukuna pause. He stared down at you, all eyes looking over you with rapt attention as he tried to think. Tried to understand. Tried to parse those words and uncover what exactly you tried to convey. 
But it didn't click. 
“Tch. You're lucky I'm a generous god,” he scolded, releasing you from your torment in favour of collapsing down beside you for some much-needed rest. Not only did your beautiful body wear him out (not that he'd admit it), but your whimsical words wore his sanity thin. The worst part was you didn't even intend to damage him so. 
“I am truly honoured to merely be in your presence,” Your voice, light and dreamy as petals fluttering, laughed, and Sukuna's soul did something odd. 
He stared at the ceiling as you shuffled beside him, quickly returning to his side, donned in one of his haori and determined to make a comfortable nest of blankets and clothes around you both for the rest of the night–ah, morning? Huh. What an ordeal. 
You curled up next to him, shoving your back firmly against his side the way you often did when resting as a fox, and Sukuna huffed. 
“Turn to me,” he commanded, and you obeyed. 
He, too, turned to face you to envelope your lithe form with invincible arms and divine protection. Your soft purrs rolled through him, settling his wild spirit into a lazy tempo of an early morning stroll through a garden filled with one sort of white orchid: 
Brassavola nadosa. “Lady of the Night.” Your calling card. Your divine essence.
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"Brassavola nodosa (Lady of the Night) is a medium-sized epiphytic or lithophytic orchid species boasting extremely fragrant flowers throughout the year. The blossoms, 4 in. across (10 cm), emit a citrus fragrance at night. Each flower features long, slender, pale green or creamy-white sepals and petals and a large, heart-shaped lip sometimes adorned with purple or dark red spotting." - gardenia.net
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igotanidea · 11 months
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What is wrong with you!? : AK!Jason Todd x reader
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Just a little something to outline how i see this verse going. Suggestions/requests/feedback is highly appreciated.
WARNINGS: angst, SMUT minors DNI, probably bit of OOC
***
He was strong enough to snap her body in two if he wanted.
To break her neck.
To choke her.
To hurt her.
But somehow in his crazy, washed brain, he knew he needed her. And in some messed up, freaked out, impaired way he felt for her.
Not only because she knew what he’s been through, but because it was also so easy to dump all his frustration into her.
He failed in his mission to kill Batman?
Rough sex
His militia was questioning his abilities to lead?
Blowing steam off while pounding into her.
Did he love her?
Yes.
No.
Honestly, what is love? He lost the meaning of this word a long time ago. What he felt for her was like what the owner feels for a pet. Some kind of allegiance. Sure, he would feel some sort of emptiness if someone were to take her away and would probably kill that person off while getting his revenge, but it was nothing more than that.
Or at least that was what he was telling himself.
He was not Robin anymore and his childish infatuation for her surely turned into something more animalistic. She was at his mercy.
Just like right now.
There were some disturbances in the force and it made him angry. Angry enough to grab her from the tech room where she was working and drag her into his own bed, stripping off his armor and clothes, doing the same to her, pressing her to the mattress with all the brute strength he had.  
“Jace…..” she writhed underneath him, feeling him kiss her body with the animalistic urgency, biting, scratching and squeezing. All of her body, except her mouth. He avoided that like a plague. He didn’t need intimacy, closeness and all that bullshit. She was just a playtoy for him. The same way she was for Harley back in the days. The same way he was for Joker. “Please….” A single tear flew down her cheek.
“Shut up.” He hissed, entering her without any prep or warning, just with one push. And it hurt like hell, even after all this time she was kept in Arkham like a prisoner. Well, he was big after all. Her poor body should have been used to all kind of torture by now, but the truth was far from that. And Jason made sure she stayed tight for him. “Just shut the fuck up and take what I give you.” Jason added, putting a hand on her mouth to muffle the scream she dared to let out.
“Jace….” She moaned, not sure if it was pleasure or pain. The fact was that she might have developed some sort of Stockholm syndrome.  She knew him when he was Robin. She loved him when he was Robin and in the back of her head she had this crazy scenario that if she could only comply with his action and commands he would come back to her. Love her back. Love her again.
Poor little thing thought she could save him from himself.
She believed that she could be the one to see and have the real Jason, not the Arkham Knight. But the more she tried, the more she failed. “Baby….” She writhed, one of her hand reaching for his chest and shoulder, trying to touch him, to feel his skin against her, to ground herself.
Mistake.
She wasn’t appalled or disgusted by marks Joker left on him.
He was.
“Get your hands off me!” he shouted and grabbed her tiny wrist in his ironclad grip, leaving bruises and making her whimper in pain. She should have known better. He hated his body, all those scars and imperfections. He hated being reminded of the past tortures and rough treatment and her touch, even if it was so loving and tender did just that. “You little whore!”
“I’m sorry.” She cried out “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…..”
“Just shut up!” he yelled picking up the pace, pounding into her like she was nothing more than a piece of meat. He did not care about her silent begging, pleading and whines. If anything, having such sense of control only spur him on. “I know you like it, don’t you? Being treated like a slut you are? Hm? Y/N? Answer me!”
“Jace…..” she begged, squirming and trying to free her hands, which were now pinned above her head “I….I…..” he was rough, brutal even, but he never failed to bring her pleasure, by some twisted accident igniting the fire inside her and her body slowly started to take over making her unable to form any coherent though, settling on arching her back, whining and silently begging him to not stop while losing her breath.  
“So cock drunk, aren’t you?” he groaned, pushing her body back to the bed harshly, one hand still pinning her hands to the mattress, the other gripping her hip, pushing into her more, harder, faster. “So fucking stupid you can’t even answer one question?”
“I….. ah! Please…..” she whined throwing her head back, exposing the soft flesh of her throat.
“Oh, no, you don’t get to cum. You’re here to serve me, remember? Not the other way round.”
“please…. Jay, please…. I’m so….. “ she gulped awkwardly. She shouldn’t even think about saying it, but it just slipped past her lips “so close. So good. You’re so good. God, Jason, please, please, let me. “
“No.” he smirked vindictively grabbing her throat, cutting the air supply and watching her struggling to breathe. He himself was so close to cumming now.
Finally, with just one more thrust he came inside her, letting out groans and animalistic sounds. But not words. He felt good with her, but it wasn’t like he was going to admit it.
And this time she got lucky since she managed to orgasm with him.
It happened from time to time, not that he cared at all.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night.” He pulled out, immediately reaching for his pants ready to go back to his duties.
“Don’t go.” She cried out, pulling herself up, her blurry eyes and tear stained face making him stop for a second. What the fuck was wrong with her? He treated her like nothing and she still gave him that loving gaze? Why? She was supposed to break, to let go of all her hopes and fantasies filled with happy future with him and yet, all his actions did nothing to make her do that.  “Please, don’t leave me.” She begged, her body shaking, clearly getting into the subdrop phase. She needed aftercare, even the slightest aspect of it. Her entire posture, her curved, trembling lips, the stain from the tears on her cheek.
She was so fragile and vulnerable.
She was so pathetic.  
Fuck!
Those were the times when something in him broke. He might have been brainwashed to hate batman and everything connected to him, his freaking assistant included, but it was y/n. His friend, his first love (and most probably last, since he didn’t have much opportunities to meet girls). He wanted to hold her. She’s been through enough. But he couldn’t break. And even her sad eyes and extended shaking arms were not enough to make him change his mind.
“Clean yourself up.” He muttered “you’re dripping.”
And then he moved towards the adjacent bathroom. He needed a moment for himself. To collect and control every stupid emotion bursting inside him. The thin walls however did nothing to muffle the sobbing and crying of Y/N, who was shaking on the bed, silently calling his name, begging for attention like a little child. Even after all he’s done he was crying for him, wanting his touch and hugs and care and attention.
Fuck, he couldn’t go soft.
But it was painful to hear her like this.
To see her broken. By him. By the only person she wanted and need.
Fuck, she was making him soft.
He yelled in frustration and punched the mirror.
Hard. Hard enough to break it into little pieces that fell to the ground and hurt his knuckles.
The sound clearly scared her, since in a second she appeared in the bathroom door, watching him bleed to the floor. Wearing only her shirt and panties since it was all she could grab in a hurry to check on him.
Fucking check if he was all right.
“what are you staring at?!” he yelled turning towards her. Her eyes wide in fear, her lips trembling, her body shaking but she was so fucking beautiful like this. Just like in the other life, before Harley left her fingerprints on Y/N.
“I… I …..” she stuttered “you’re hurt.”
“Yeah, so what? It’s not like I haven’t been before.” He shrugged, shoving her away, trying to move past her.
“Let me help you.” she whispered, lifting her hand trying to reach him, but quickly realizing how much of a mistake it would be. Again. “Let me patch you up.”
“Why?”
“Cause I don’t want you to bleed. I don’t want to see you like this. Please, Jason, let me…. Let me help you.” she mumbled looking at the ground, too shy and scared of another punishment for even suggesting something like that .
Jason couldn’t comprehend it.
How was it possible that she wasn’t completely broken like him?
What the fuck was wrong with her?!
“Why do you care?!” he yelled in frustration, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her into the wall, a little squeal escaping her lips in the process. “Why?” he grabbed her chin making her look at him
“You know why…..” she sobbed
“don’t you dare saying it!”
“I…. I won’t….. I won’t, I promise. Please…. It hurts.” He let her go, preventing her from falling to the ground. “Let me….”
“Grab the kit. Just do your job. And do it silently. I don’t want any other stupid words coming out of your mouth, you hear me?”
She nodded and without a sound sat him on the bed taking a spot next to him. Her skillful, soft hands patching him up quicker than anyone else ever could. Years of practice as Wayne assistant (i.e. Batman’s helper).
“thank you” he whispered when she was done, not looking at her. She just nodded again, smiled lightly through the tears and laid down on the bed, not daring to hope for anything. Not anymore. And Jason was not going to give her anything, apart from throwing her a blanket so she could cover herself. And then he left, leaving her in the dark, still unable to figure out what was wrong with her.
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appleblueberry-pie · 4 months
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PIE'S MASTERLIST & RULES
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HI, welcome to my page! I love writing on here as my main platform and I enjoy all comments and support under my works, it gives me the boost I need to keep going!
MASTERLIST
JUJUTSU KAISEN
Wanna be cherished by Yan Satoru and Yan Suguru
Wanna be cherished by them rant part 2
Yandere Scarface Gojo
Nurse Geto x Doctor Reader
Dominant Yandere Nurse Geto Headcanons
Yandere Nurse Geto x Female Nurse Reader
Small rant about writing about Sukuna
I need a quick outlet.
Sweetheart Yandere Satoru Gojo
Yandere House"wife" Gojo
Lovesick Nanami Kento Drabble
Broke Yandere Toji
Explaining your First Love to the Yandere's
Diamond Buried in the Dirt Suguru Geto
Suguru Headcanons
Yandere GF Yuki + Yandere Various! JJK Characters
Okkotsu Yuuta
Nanami x Brat ramble
You Are Everything Yandere Gojo
Obviously American Reader x Yandere Gojo x Yandere Nanami
ACROSS THE SPIDER VERSE
Miles Morales.
Miguel O'Hara blurb
I want him SO bad, you guys.
More Yandere 42 Miles Headcanons
You Deserve More Than Me Yandere 42 Miles
Even More Yandere Earth 42 Miles Headcanons
Things Yandere 42 Miles has done without your knowledge
ATTACK ON TITAN
nothing yet lol
ANSWERED ASKS
JJK
Yandere Nanami with Darling who was harmed
Soft Yandere Nanami with Darling who found his wall of dedication
Let Me Take Care of You
And Let Yourself Heal
Yandere Gojo Satoru Soulmaaates!
Yandere Toji Fushiguro New Girl, Same Old Me.
Yandere Yuuta Hungry, Starving, Greedy...
Yandere Satoru Gojo Nobody Has to Understand
Don't separate those lips to tell me. I already know.
Short Submissive JJK Headcanons
Who pays the bills?
Yandere Geto Skin Deep
Darling Accepting Choso and his love
Broke Gojo x Rich Reader Headcanons
Safe Space Yandere Gojo + Yandere Yuuta(separately)
Rejecting Yandere Gojo Satoru
Dehumanizing Yandere Okkotsu Yuuta
Taking complete control over Yandere Satoru Gojo
Finding out Yandere Gojo killed your friend (smau)
Yandere Yuuta as the father of your kids
Yandere Nanami Kento accidentally neglecting his darling
Yandere Yuuta around your mother
Yandere Suguru getting rejected by darling who loves Gojo
Taking care of Yandere Yuuta
Rejecting Yandere Gojo who would never harm you
Accidental Whimper audio(several jjk yanderes SMAU)
ASTV
Possibilities for why Yandere 42 Miles is the way he is now
Yandere Miles nearly losing it when you get asked to prom
Yandere Miguel O'Hara Mine All Fucking Mine
Yandere Miguel O'Hara Dinner is the Dessert
Yandere Earth 42 Miles Morales Pain Isn't Strong Enough
Yandere Miguel O'Hara What Isn't There to Love About You?
Yandere Miguel O'Hara Blood Moon
Yandere Miles Morales Be Mine? Yes or No.
Reader who isn't into Yandere Miles
Yandere Miguel O'Hara Bittersweet
Drabble of your future with Yandere 42 Miles Morales
Trauma bonding with slightly yandere Miguel O'Hara
Earth 42 Miles Morales x Brazilian Reader
Yandere Miguel O'Hara I Thought You Knew Better Than This?
ATTACK ON TITAN
Yandere Levi finding out you didn't come back with your squad
MISCELLANEOUS
About Yandere Content Out There.
Lmao
Never thought this would happen
RULES
What I do write:
Yandere(obviously)
fem reader
gender neutral reader
sfw/nsfw
fluff
anything regular that's not Yandere
bdsm
What I don't write:
Gore
incest/pseudo incest
rape
trans reader or male reader(i don't think I know enough about how it would physically work, in terms of smut)
infantilism
starving/overfeeding
drug usage
Cheating
Part 2's
I hope you enjoy going through my stuff. There is one post I want to put on the masterlist that I literally can't find at all. But nonetheless, this is all of my work so far. I will continue adding works on here as I post more often. It's about time. I want to expand the things I write, but for now, it's just this.
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zepskies · 1 year
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Series Masterlist - Break Me Down
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader
Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.
Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…
AN: For those of you who enjoyed “Checkerboard,” here’s the requested prequel series! It’s gonna be a long road to get to that version of Soldier Boy. Technically this is an AU set post-season 3.
Series Tags/Warnings: **Rated M. (18+ only.) Enemies to frenemies to lovers. Angsty, messy, moral quandaries galore. This is a romance, but it’s a dark world with morally gray and dark characters, including Soldier Boy, of course. **Smut, language, misogyny, violence, and other chapter-specific tags.
🎵 Listen While You Read: The BMD Playlist
Chapters:
Prologue
Part 1 - The Game Begins
Part 2 - You Move Me, Baby
Part 3 - Somewhere Down Below
Part 4 - On the Inside Out
Part 5 - Morning, Night & Day
Part 6 - A Hot Meal
Part 7 - Until Midnight
Part 8 - Something in the Way
Part 9 - Breach
Part 10 - Caught in the Balance
Part 11 - The Lion's Den
Part 12 - All Your Wicked Ways
Part 13 - A Generous Deal
Part 14 - Safe House
Part 15 - The Tower
Part 16 - Soldier Boy
Part 17 - More Than Words Can Say
Epilogue - All My Living Time
Series Complete!
Did you like this series? If you'd like to keep supporting me as I continue the BMD-verse, here's a way to keep me caffeinated:
Ko-Fi Me ☕
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Read More In the BMD-Verse
Not done reading this version of Soldier Boy x Reader? Well, there's more to their story.
(**Notes 18+ only and/or smut)
One-Shots:
In the Dark You and Ben have tackled the insurmountable together, but no one said the recovery would be easy.
Checkerboard** You’re not a supe. You’re breakable. Soldier Boy sometimes forgets that.
Love Actually** Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system.
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 - Complete
Wake Me Up** [MINI SERIES] A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, he is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.
Series Complete!
Strong As Blood** After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out? 
(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)
Part 1 || Part 2 - Complete
Until Morning A quiet moment between you, Ben, and your newborn daughter.
Green** Ben spends the day alone with his daughter, to varying degrees of success. When you get home, it prompts a serious conversation.
Calculated Risks You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.
Imagines:
Getting jealous.** 💚 Ben needs new clothes, but the shop girls think your boyfriend is fair game.
Ben’s reaction to his girlfriend on her period.❣️ How he takes care of you.
Ben loses you. 💔 Includes a “twist” ending…
Talk to Me 💞 In the wake of his vivid nightmare, you confront Ben about his fears and get him to open up. [Sequel to “Ben loses you.”]
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Moodboard below created by @chernayawidow:
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Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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perictione00 · 7 months
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She's a Man-eater
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Pairing: Gojo Satoru x reader
Warnings: MDNI, sub! gojo satoru, dom! reader, smut, degradation, heavy edging and overstimulation, cock stepping, choking, age difference(7-years, reader is older), oral sex, sounding, riding, unprotected sex.
Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist
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"Hngh...please...I need you", his desperation was so satisfying. He looked so beautiful crawling towards you, naked, with a collar on his neck with your name engraved on it.
"But we had a deal, no? You cum five times and I'll treat you", you coo. Breaking someone's body has become your new favorite hobby. To get them so high that normal never works for them. That they come crawling back to you.
"Haah...ngh...mmf...I can't anymore, please." You understand now why men like to oppress women. Power is a fucking drug, and controlling someone stimulates it.
"Then I'm afraid I can't help you, Satoru", you said, sounding disappointed, causing him to start stroking his already twitching cock. With his head thrown back, sweat beads covered his flushed face as he continued jerking himself off, moaning wildly, until he came for the fifth time in the same night.
What a sight. So strong yet so fragile—such a complaint one. Easy to mold and easy to manipulate. Watery blue eyes stared at you with hope. He was such a good pet. He deserved a reward for his hard work. So you took off your very wet panties and threw them to the other side of the room.
"Good boy, now go fetch."
Without wasting a second, Satoru fetched your panties on all fours. Sniffing it, he lapped on it and drooled at your taste. You watched him as he buried his face in your panties and continued groaning loudly. His hips bucked up instinctively, fucking into nothingness to seek any sort of friction to calm his now-hardening dick.
"More...I want more", Satoru begged as he moved towards your lap.
"Yeah? Tell me, will you do anything for me?", you questioned affectionately as you slid your hands and ruffled his disheveled hair.
"Ya...yes, anything. I can d-do any and everything for you", he answered, sounding breathless.
Yanking him back by the hair, you opened your legs and forced his face into your pussy. While he sucked on your clit, you noticed how he kept glancing at your moaning form. It was obvious that he wanted to feel validated by pleasing you. The poor thing was in love with you; the least you could do was grind on his face and use him. So you used his nose to gain some roughness and pulled on his hair as his tongue slurped on your wetness. Getting suffocated by your thighs drove Satoru to the brink, and his sensitive cock leaked for the sixth time. But he was so drunk on you. So much so that he couldn't stop and kept fucking your hole till you came.
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"If you do it right, I'll reward you with a truffle cake", you declared to a ten-year-old who was being more annoying than usual. Gojo Satoru was the new big thing in the Jujutsu world, and although he was just a child, he was already much better than most of the second-grade sorcerers. And since he was destined to be the strongest, a majority of his time was consumed in practicing, and that too with well-versed sorcerers like yourself.
"Liar. You said that the last time too and didn't bring me any", the lil guy yelled as he continued pouting.
"That was because you literally announced it to the whole house. You think anyone here would lemme feed you, a child, a whole cake?", you retorted, closing the distance between you.
"I'm not a child. I defeated two of your classmates, remember", he scoffed.
"God, I don't have time for this. Listen, Satoru, if you don't do this, forget the cake; I'm never bringing anything for you, and then you can have a great time practicing with Daddy too", you were sure this threat was enough to keep him in check. It was your favorite weapon against him. And when you saw his frowning form turning back to practice, you knew it had hit the right mark.
Gojo had developed a sweet tooth early on because of your constant rewards after practice sessions. It was easier. Satoru already knew well that he was stronger than an average person; hence, with all his sass, he avoided training, even with you. If it was up to him, he would only play with you. So you introduced him to the world of sweets, and the rest is history. Growing up with Satoru, you knew your ways with him. To you, rather than a little brother that you never asked for, he was more like an asset who was the key to your goal. It worked out well. He became the ace up your sleeve, and you became his favorite company.
Coming from a non-sorcerer family, at the age of 6, you immediately piqued the interests of many families with your unexpectedly strong cursed technique, one of them being the Gojo clan. Initially, people thought it was for the sake of marrying you off to someone within the clan, but it surprised everyone when the head of the clan announced his goal of sponsoring your education until you were an adult. What seemed like a random play turned out to be a well-thought-out scheme to have stronger allies. For several hundred years, no one in the Gojo family had inherited both the six eyes and the limitless techniques, portraying the clan as weaker among the Big three families, so it was better to have an active margin to keep the center intact. That was the reason why you grew up learning from the best of the best and became a first-grade sorcerer by the age of 14. Which was why you ended up training the future of the clan. Or maybe the real deal was that the insolent brat wouldn't practice with anyone other than you.
Before his birth, you were the apple of everyone's eye, including all the servants and his father. It all changed, though—after his birth, that is. From the moment Gojo Satoru was born, his mere existence was celebrated; he was treated like a king, but you, on the other hand, were neglected. Oh, how the mighty had fallen. You were a child. With all the attention that you desperately craved, snatched away so suddenly, you couldn't help but feel jealous and envy the blue-eyed devil who had hypnotized every sane adult in the clan. You were there first, then why were you not as loved as he was? He was such a burden, a crybaby who couldn't fend for himself and had to be under surveillance at all times. You were forced to be by his side to keep track of his needs, which made you more hostile towards him. Fortunately, you warmed up to him as time went on. The hostility melted into care as you looked after the little demon who was always following you, crawling on all fours, when he always cried in your absence, and when instead of gibberish, his first words turned out to be your name.
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The jujutsu world is cruel, and it's worse if you're a woman. The pathetic mentality of a few old geezers was enough to drive out women from this field. With the misconduct of power, the status of women was intentionally devalued through a sequence of meaningless regulations. For something so basic, women had to prove themselves worth it in order to be given the same treatment and respect as any other man. Women were associated with childrearing and bearing. And if they somehow turned out to be more than what was expected of them, the scope of their development is reduced. You learned it a little too late.
"Don't be greedy now. Grade 1 is as far as you go. I'm sure the clan backing you up wouldn't like that either. You're 15, right? A looker that's for sure. Ripe age. About time you start getting marriage offers, no?"
"If only you didn't have a mouth on you. Well, I'm sure I can fuck it out of you."
"Special grade!? Even if all of us in the room used you, there's no chance you're ever getting there."
"Give up on that impossible dream of yours. Isn't it too much for you to carry on as a grade 1 anyways?"
"Don't make me laugh."
"All I see is a hole inviting me to fuck. Come on, lemme help you discover all you're good for."
"Grade 1? Who did you fuck to get there? The clan head? Are the rumors true? I've heard he has a thing for young girls. I can see why he would give in to you, though."
That's how it was and will always be. In a world dominated by men, you will never be able to achieve what your heart longs for. You will never be the strongest. You will have to act according to their will and listen to the crap that comes out of their mouths. It was not fair. You were dragged into this world without consent, and now that you finally accept reality and try to be something more, they tell you that it was never possible. Hypocrites. You were not a slave. If you were being objectified by a bunch of old men, you might as well use them to get what you want. You can give them a sense of control and suck them dry of their powers. Use them until they serve your desires, and throw them away the moment you're done. It is okay if you can't be the strongest; you can always be with the strongest.
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Gojo Satoru was the strongest sorcerer. He could have anything he wished for, yet he couldn't have you. On his 7th birthday, he declared in front of all the maids that he'd marry you and have about a hundred kids with you. His confession was met with a few chuckles and pity, but he was sure of his resolve. On the same day, you skipped practice sessions to meet with some dirt from your class and wished him a happy birthday minutes before his birthday ended. Let's just say that an angry Satoru melted from your apology, which consisted of a customized Digimon watch, his favorite pastries, and a peck to his cheek.
To him, you were the prettiest girl. And age was just a number. He just needed to grow up faster and be taller to be with you. You were the only one who treated him like a normal human. And the only one who genuinely wished the best for him and cared for him without any malicious or hidden intention. However, nothing had prepared him for your exit from the household on your eighteenth birthday. He was dumbfounded when you told him the same. He remembers crying and begging you to stay with him—not that it changed your decision, but you did promise to meet him every week, which was not enough for him.
Time went by, and Gojo Satoru realized that he wanted you all for himself. You were famous not only for your capabilities and beauty but also for your infamous relationships. He recalls how one of the Zenin clan men fell head over heels for you and took his own life because he couldn't have you. He also recalls how a senior representative of the Kamo clan went crazy after you left him and the stories of countless men who were doomed to the same fate. You were magical, and those low lives weren't your equals. Of course, you wouldn't settle for them; you were way too good for them. That's why he wants to become strong and be of any worth to you.
You came back to the house once, after 5 years, when you were accused of assassinating a higher-up, and somehow, after just two hours in his father's room, you were announced to be not guilty a day later. On that very day, you hugged him for the first time while comforting him about the incident with the sorcerer killer as he smelled his father's cologne on you. If he wasn't bound by relationships, he was sure that he would have killed his own father in a heartbeat.
Later that year, he confessed his love for you on your 23rd birthday, and you shot him down instantly. Calling him a child and whatnot. He wasn't immature; he was just a bit overly enthusiastic but not impulsive. Maybe it was just about his age. That's what he told himself until you rejected him again and again and again. For the first time, he saw the distance between you both. How you were climbing up the status ladder in the Jujutsu hierarchy and how the number of your lovers was increasing with every passing month. Something snapped inside him as realization hit him, and at the young age of 16, he lost his virginity to a housemaid his age.
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You had successfully infiltrated all the major clans except for the Gojo clan. You were not going to infiltrate that clan; you had decided to own it. Although latent, your influence was more than a lot of high-ups combined. But of course you wouldn't rub it on everyone's faces; you didn't need to hurt their egos to feel your worth anymore. You just needed to act submissive and poised; that would do the trick. Nobody needed to know that all the cards were in your favor and that you were the real puppeteer.
When it came to the Gojo clan, you heard here and there that your little prince had learned to fuck around. It was about time he was tamed. So on his 19th birthday, you rewarded him with a gift of a lifetime.
"No...shit... please-aahh...it won't fit, please", Satoru mumbled as tears streamed down his flushed face.
"It will. You will make it fit for me, right?", you whispered and resumed kissing him down his neck, stopping only to abuse his hard nipples. He was a moaning mess, trembling with every movement, cringing at the sharp but pleasurable pain as you continued inserting a sounding rod in his penis.
You stood up to admire your artwork once you were done. No man has ever looked so beautiful. Gojo Satoru was kneeling in front of you, twitching like an insect, crying, and losing himself to you. He was so submissive, so perfect. You were going to take your sweet time devouring him.
You dragged your foot over to his cock and asked him, "What do you say, Satoru? Should I step on it?"
He was barely able to make a coherent sentence as you toyed with his cock while the pressure of the inserted rod edged him to the highest degree. Just when he thought it couldn't get any better, you took off your panties and stuffed them in his mouth. You were left with nothing but your bra; however, you unhooked them the moment an idea popped up in your mind. Tying them around Satoru's neck, you pulled on em, making him choke. Suddenly, he looked like every man who had wronged you, underestimated you, and molested you. He looked heavenly as he struggled to breathe, and Gojo would be lying if he said that he didn't enjoy life slipping out of him just a bit. When he was expecting you to finally take the rod out, you laid him down and positioned yourself on his dick.
You teased yourself with the cold metal end of the rod and slowly sank down Satoru's length. You looked down only to see him blabbering and moaning uncontrollably. His teary blue eyes and instant desperation to rut into you were painted all over his face. He tried thrusting into you, only to feel overwhelmed by the rod. You started bouncing on his cock and playing with your nipples. It would be an understatement to say that Satoru was hypnotized by you. He was enamoured by you. In this moment, you looked like an absolute goddess, and he was ready to lose himself in you. Your walls were gripping onto his length so tightly that he felt lightheaded. You continued grinding on his cock as you reached your orgasm. Getting off immediately to take his cock in your mouth and tease him a bit more.
"Are you my whore, Satoru?", you asked as you squeezed his balls. Had you broken him? Because it looked like he was too far gone. Did he stop working?
"Yes, I'm ya-your wh...whore".
You smirked. It was done. It's easy to break them when they're young, just like they broke you. You bobbed your head on his dick, sucking on his prominent veins and slurping some globs of his semen. Then, all of a sudden, you harshly took out the sounding rod, and with that, Satoru reached his orgasm with a high-pitched moan. But you didn't stop, not yet. You continued sucking on his member, taking in all of his jizz. Without a second thought, you sealed the deal as you spat his cum into his mouth and kissed him deeply. He was yours now, and so was his clan.
"I love you."
As if you didn't know that already. It's okay, though you'll entertain him.
"Yeah, let's do it again. This time, I'll let you breed me."
Part 2
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wood-white-writer · 8 months
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"Didn't mean to make your heart Blue" || [5/...]
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“Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down, I'll be there on their side. I'm losing by their side.”
— Mitski, "Bet On Losing Dogs"
Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6
Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. 
It's been a few weeks since the events in Orange Town, and Luffy notices something that others do not. So, he decides to ask you.
Warnings: Canon typical violence, LA!Verse, No (fully bodied) Buggy this chapter, Luffy being the precious cinnamon we all love and must protect above all else, flashbacks about Shanks, past discussions, Luffy and Reader have a heart-to-heart.
A/N: I was initially going to write them going to the Baratie this chapter, but it became too long so next one for sho.
Taglist:@kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk, @notyuralycat, @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))
You're sitting by the table in Party's bar, nursing a cold glass of rum against your cracked lips as you observe to the kid - Luffy - demonstrating his newfound Devil Fruit powers without any regard for poor Makino's furniture. 
You don't get him, at all. Then again, you don’t get kids. 
You've never thought of yourself as someone who easily got along with them ... or people in general. Shanks has always been the better-suited one for that kind of work. Whereas he is smiling and grinning at the kid’s mischief, you've barely offered him more than a glance at most.
Your crew has been positioned in Foosha village for the better part of the month, stacking up on resources and food in preparation for your next job. Incidentally, the Red-Haired Pirates also happened to be in town for similar excursions. You rarely see Shanks nowadays since you parted ways several years ago, but whenever you happen to come across one another, you share a drink on his tab.
While your crew is around and about, replenishing their strength and vigor for the work to come, you're content with just sitting here at your leisure. When you're not plundering or fighting or attacking Marine bases, you can't find it in yourself to do much of anything anymore. 
Nothing adds any purpose to your life save for what keeps you fed and clothed, which in the life of a pirate, simply means pirating.
"I've heard you had good fortune on your latest heist," Shanks says from where he's sitting opposite of you. "For your efforts, the Marines have granted you among the highest bounties in all of the East-Blue."
You hum noncommittally in response, not offering much to the conversation in terms of merriment. "The quality of the Marines has been in decline. It says more about their effort, or lack thereof, than mine."
"Do you know what they call you nowadays?"
"They call me a lot of names, you got to be more specific."
"'Cross-Hairs, the Beast of the East'. It's got a certain ring to it, don't you think?"
"Sure."
Shanks smiles the kind way he always does. Always has done.
"Gum-Gum Pistol!" 
The sound of yet another chair breaking has you rolling your eyes without even looking, and poor Makino ages ten years in seconds across the bar counter. 
"Luffy!"
"Sorry!"
Shanks laughs heartedly at the display, only to cut it short upon noticing Makino's even glare sent his way from across the bar. 
"You were careless," you state matter-of-factly and take another gulp from your drink. "You should've kept the fruit hidden more securely."
"Now, in my defense, I didn't think the lad would searching through my loot."
"Well, you should've." You slam your glass down, strong enough to leave a dent in the wooden surface. "What kind of captain leaves his loot undefended and unsupervised? Especially when it contains a Devil Fruit?"
Shanks doesn't argue with your statement and settles with taking a gulp of his own drink, letting your words simmer in his head. "You're right, I should've been more observant. Now, it'll be more difficult for him to achieve his dream."
"His dream? Of what? Becoming the King of the Pirates?" Try as you might, there's no suppressing the snort that escapes through your nose. "There's only ever been one King, and we all saw what happened to him. What do you think is going to happen to a kid who can't even swim?"
"Oh, come off it!" He gives you a playful nudge to the rib, which you reciprocate with a glare. He remains undeterred. "You mean to tell me you've never thought about finding the One Piece? Not even once?"
"I have no interest in whatever plunder Gol D. left behind." 
"Then, what does interest you?" He rests his elbow on the edge of the table and leans over to your side. "What is your dream?"
You grit your teeth under your lips, a flash of blue circulating in your head. "Dreams are for fools and children," you point your head to where Luffy is currently sitting, trying to put the chair back together with a half-empty tube of glue and little luck. 
"Come on, I know you better than that. Surely there's something in this world you want more than anything?"
"What I want is ..." You have half a mind to tell him the truth, whereas the other half wants to push the idea further down to the bottom of your chest. "Is another bottle of rum."
You raise your arm to Makino to gesture for another one, but Shanks is quick to lower it with a gentle shove of his arm. You flash him a scowl and brush off his hand, but unlike your crew or anyone else, he's not afraid.
"The point which I'm trying to make before you're completely pissed," he starts. "Is that no matter how much opposition one faces, it's that dreams are never out of reach if you have the will to reach for them."
He inclines his head over your shoulder, and you turn around to see Luffy successfully putting the chair back together. You don't know how he did it - it looked pretty busted minutes ago - but there it is, wholly intact.
And when the boy smiles, it's so vibrant and full of joy that it's almost blinding. He proudly runs over and shows the repaired chair to Makino, who proceeds to pat his head and hand him a plate of food.
"See?" Shanks grins. "Nothing is impossible."
"You can hardly consider putting a chair back together the same as achieving an impossible goal."
He shrugs. "Maybe not, but you won't know unless you try. All it takes is a little spirit."
You watch Shanks for a couple of minutes in silence, processing his mythic words, then shift your attention over to Luffy who's preoccupied with shoving an unholy amount of food into his mouth. If this is to become the future King of the Pirates one day, then it'll be an interesting future indeed.
"A little spirit, huh?" 
— — —
You're sad.
Luffy first notices it when you leave Orange Town, and it lingers throughout your voyage. 
For as long as he's known you, you've always been a person of relatively few words; never speaking unless you feel the situation requires it, and only acting when necessary. Even following the Kuro situation™, getting the Going Merry, and adding Usopp to his crew, he can tell that you're not all there anymore.
Not to be mistaken, you're not conspicuous with the way you behave. You still act like usual, talk like usual, however little, and commit yourself to your work on the ship, almost to an excessive extent. 
All in all, nothing’s changed about you. However, he’s gotten used to your face and general lack of expression most of the time, and though it doesn't seem to alter, he still catches onto the fact that you're sad. 
"Hey," he asks the group and props himself in the kitchen, legs crossed atop his seat. "Do you think she's any different?"
"Who? Your friend?" Nami asks, raising an eyebrow. "How so?"
"Well, I think she's sad."
"Doesn't look any different to me," Zoro supplies while polishing his swords on the table. 
Usopp's in the middle of munching a piece of loaf, and answers with his mouth still halfway occupied. "Dunno how she usually is, but she's kinda terrifying if you ask me."
"No, she's not," Luffy dismisses lightly. 
"What's her position on the ship, anyhow? How'd you come across her?"
"She's always been with me," Luffy answers without any thought. "And she’s a good fighter.”
Zoro — to everyone’s surprise — nods his head to this in concurrence.
Their Captain claps his hands together to get the subject back on track. "But anyway, I just think she seems kind of down now."
"How can you even tell? With eyes like these, —” Usopp puts both of his index fingers at the crow’s feet of his eyes and draws them back to imitate yours. It’s borderline shameful, truth be told. “— I can’t tell for shit what she’s feeling or thinking.”
“I just can.” Luffy shrugs.
“Has she said anything?” Nami asks. “Anything to make you ask?”
“No, not really.” He heaves a sigh and props his hand under his chin, contemplating. “But she's been different since we left Orange Town.”
"If you ask me," Zoro speaks up. "You should ask her about her relationship with that fucking clown."
"Who? Boogie?"
"Buggy," Nami corrects. "Didn't you notice that at the end? They have a history, it's obvious. They know each other, and I don't know what pirate customs are like nowadays, but I doubt you'd touch the face of an enemy unless there was something going on. Has she said anything about it?"
Luffy shakes his head. “No... but then again, she never does tell me much about anything unless I ask.”
The tangerine-haired girl blinks as if the answer to this whole predicament is obvious. She quickly comes to realize that, to Luffy, it’s not.
“So…” she prompts slowly.
“So…?”
She rolls her eyes at his inability to catch her drift. “Go ask her.”
It’s like the thought never even crossed Luffy’s mind in the first place because truth be told, it hasn’t. He lights up like a candlestick on the spot. “Yeah, I should just ask her!”
“Ask me what?”
The members of the Straw Hat pirates (save for Zoro) withdraw in various unique positions, having not heard you make your entrance before you speak. 
You’re standing in the doorway to the kitchen, eyebrow slightly quirked at the Baroque-esque scene in front of you. Deciding not to address the display, you simply ask, “Anything I should know about, Captain Luffy?”
Usopp doesn’t even dare to answer, because he knows you sure as hell don’t see him as a captain in general, much less your captain. He swears he notices you briefly look in his direction at the mention of the title, and a shiver runs across his skin. Like static electricity in the air.
“Oh, yeah,” Luffy turns to you, not an ounce of fear in his eyes as he pops the question. “Are you sad?”
You blink once, then twice, like the inquiry on its own is of unfathomable origins to you. “Do I look sad?”
The boy in the straw hat nods. “I think you do.”
“Then I’m not.” It’s not only an answer, but also a sentence that marks this subject as finished on your part. One that does not permit any subsequent additions.
You incline your head to the deck above. “We’re going to have company soon, likely Marines, and they seem to be in supply of heavy fire this time.”
———
The situation with the aforementioned opponents temporarily distracts the crew, yet Luffy maintains a close eye on you, taking note of anything that can point him to the source of the unknown problem. You talk relatively little with the other crew members, but you seem to have developed an amicable enough relationship with them compared to when you first met. 
Before, you could care less about getting to know them. Now, you’re actively going out of your way to ask Nami about her cartographic skills, even giving her tips for additions to her geographical detailing. You provide Zoro pointers on self-developed defensive techniques and ways to paralyze opponents in certain spots (which he seems appreciative of).
You even give Usopp a short nod when he tells you one of his fantastical stories, even knowing that they’re full of shit.
Luffy’s happy, but he still sees that you are not.
It’s all in your eyes. They’re hollow somehow, like the end of a barrel. He doesn’t know how he knows, only that he knows, and he’s known for a good while now.
So, that night, Luffy finds you in the kitchen by the windows, absentmindedly snacking on a red apple while you gaze into the dark nothingness outside. He also discovers that he’s subconsciously become quite observant of your habits as of late. 
For example, you specifically pick red apples above any other color when they happen to dock someplace, not even paying any mind to the green or yellow ones. Just the red ones.
“Hey,” he positions himself next to you on the bench, a piece of loaf tight in his hand. “Why are you sad?”
You turn your head just a fraction to the side to look at him, not annoyed, but not appreciative of the focus he’s settled on as of late. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? The Vice-Admiral looks a little weary as of late, after all. Are you sad about it?"
"Nope."
“So why do you insist that I’m sad?”
“Because you are,” he states like it’s obvious.
You huff humorously and return your attention to the window that supplies no real view. “How can you tell?”
“I just can.” He takes a generous bite of his food and continues talking, oblivious to the crumbles that fall while doing so. “When I’m sad, I—”
“Eat?”
“Well, yeah.” He swallows the bite down. “But I also like to talk about it with someone I trust. Shanks used to say that true friends are the kind of people you can share your heart with and not get hurt.”
This annoys you, that much he can tell. A nail digs into the apple you’re holding, leaving a crescent-shaped indent on the red skin. “Shanks said many things, and not all of it's true.”
This doesn’t deter him from pressing on the matter. “If you keep all the hurt inside, it’s going to turn bad. You know, Makino said that if you leave a piece of ham in the fridge too long, it’ll get sour and people can’t eat it.”
“Only you could find a way to compare this sort of thing to food.” You withdraw your finger from the apple and end up leaving it alone altogether. A minute or ten of silence waves between you, laced with unspoken questions and denied answers. “Tell me, Luffy, just how much did Shanks tell you about his past?”
He thinks for a moment, mimicking your movements by putting his loaf aside. “Just about his adventures with the Red-Haired Pirates, and a little about the time you served with him. Is it true you were strong enough to throw a three-hundred-pound man to the ground when you were thirteen?”
He swears it’s a snort that he catches leaving your throat, but it’s hard to differentiate it from your more-than-usual scoffs. “He exaggerated.”
“Really?”
“The man was two-fifty, at most.”
Luffy grins with genuine admiration, so much so that your face tilts back slightly, being overwhelmed by the mere brightness that is him. “Wow! You must’ve been quite a beast when you were a kid!”
He notices it again, the sadness that latches onto your eyes like insects to sour meat. Whatever brief smile adorned your lips moments ago disappears like it was never there at all. Thinking he said something wrong, Luffy prepares to apologize when you speak again.
Your voice is soft yet faint like you’re afraid speaking too loudly will make something bad happen. “It wasn’t just me and Shanks, back then, you know.”
The Captain of the Straw Hats thinks it’s almost unnatural of you to be this demure, but he doesn’t interrupt you.
“Buggy was there, too. It was the three of us, together.”
“Oh, yeah.” He remembers it now. “He did mention that in Orange Town. You served the same crew.”
“… He did, did he?”
“He said you and Shanks betrayed him, but I didn’t believe him.” Luffy knows you and has known you for longer than he’s known a lot of people in his life. You’re one of the few permanent people he’s had, and he knows with a certainty that you’re not the kind of person who leaves anyone behind, not without reason. 
Even if you did have a reason for leaving Buggy, it must have been a good one.
Your mouth opens and shuts several times in the span of a minute like you’re hesitating to talk about the past. You’ve never been one to talk about it, except to share some details about your time as captain, and even that was limited to the bare minimum.
Still, Luffy, being in no hurry for you to reach an answer, waits patiently by your side until you do decide to talk about it.
Talk about what he believes is the reason for your sadness.
“We were close back in the days,” you begin slowly. “Me, him, and Shanks. It was us against the rest of the world, and we were going to sail together to the end of the seas one day. It was our dream.”
“Then, what happened?”
You put your palm over both your eyes and rest your elbow on the window frame, heaving a sigh that resembles someone who’s spent too much of their life working and working and working without catching any breaks. Pure, simple exhaustion weighs you down, Luffy can tell. 
When you speak next, you sound tired too, and perhaps a little strained. He can’t see your eyes, and so, he can’t truthfully tell what you’re thinking now. “The thing is, I don’t know what happened. All I know is that he decided he didn’t want to stick around.” You breathe through your nostrils. “Our captain was gone, and so was the crew, but we three were still together, and I thought we were going to stay together.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No … We didn’t. I don’t know what happened, but one day when I was talking with Shanks about what to do next, Buggy came in, and it … He looked at me like … Like he hated me.” You exhale. “He did hate me, and I don’t know what it was I did, but he practically told me that we were done … And then he left. I never saw him again, up until Orange Town.”
Luffy doesn’t require your eyes this time to tell that you’re sad now because you are. You’re so sad that it’s destroying you from the inside, and even that is an understatement on its own. There are no tears trickling down your cheeks, no quivers or thickness to your voice, no nothing to base his assumptions on, but he knows.
He stays silent for a short while, doing nothing but look at you. You’re one of the strongest people he knows. He’s seen you fight; seen the strength you possess, the fire in your eyes. You’ve stayed with him ever since Shanks left Foosha Village, you’ve looked after him from the sidelines when you thought no one was watching. 
You’ve been with him throughout everything, and seeing you like this makes him feel blue on your behalf. You don’t express it yourself – you never do. You carry your weight with the same kind of strength you always do, never letting anyone see you beyond just that, and sometimes, he wonders if you’re lonely because of it. 
At least, now he knows why you’re so sad. You’re heartbroken.
He’s never been acquainted with the feeling himself, has never felt any particular inclination toward it, but he can tell it’s your heart that’s hurting now, and it’s not as easy to heal as that cuts he received on his chest from the butler.
His hat seems to itch the harder he thinks about it, as if there’s something digging at his scalp through his hat. He thought Nami patched it up for him. He tries to scratch at it, but for some reason, it doesn’t cease. Maybe he’s got lice? 
He ignores it. “It’s weird. Bunky seems to think you were the one who left him for Shanks.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know. You’re not that kind of person.” He says it so easily, without a smidgen of doubt or hesitation. You look at him through your peripheral vision, and your eyes slightly widen at his statement. “But, do you know what happened between them? Shanks and Bonky, I mean?”
“No, I don’t.” You admit with a shake of your head. You’ve tried to figure it out for years, and at some point, you decided to give up. “Shanks never told me, but whatever it was, it was enough for the stupid clown to leave for… He chose a childish rivalry over me.”
“Then, there you have it. It’s all just a big misunderstanding, so why don’t you just tell him if you meet him again?”
“You seem awfully defensive of the guy who destroyed an entire village and almost drowned you.”
“Yeah, but talking about him seems to make you happy.”
You freeze for a bit, snort, and turn your back to the window frame, leaning back and crossing your arms across your chest in silent resignation. “I tried to explain things to him back in Orange Town, and a fat load of good that did. Like I said, he hates me, and he’s sure as hell not my favorite person at the moment. If we do meet again, it likely won’t end any better than it back in Orange Town.”
“You know, –” Luffy takes another bite of his bread. “It didn’t sound like he hated you.”
“Hmm?” You raise an eyebrow, halfway curious and halfway skeptical. 
“He still remembers that you like red apples and that you hide knives in your shoes. Is that true?”
You raise both your eyebrows and look at Luffy like he’s just grown a second head. Without a word, you pull your left foot up until it rests on the bench, and withdraw not one or two knives, but four. Small and subtle, hardly enough to turn any heads, but in a flash, you throw it across the kitchen until it lands on a specific spot on the opposite wall. 
Bull’s eye.
“We used to have knife-throwing competitions,” you reminisce idly, staring at the knife lodged deep into the wall. “I was good, but Buggy was better.” Your lip tilts up an inch or two. “We made bets, and whoever lost would have to steal a bottle of whatever liquor we happened to find in the next town we docked at.”
“Oh?”
“I ended up snatching quite a lot of bottles, but once every blue moon, he would have to snatch one instead.” You smile. It’s an actual, genuine, honest smile this time, and Luffy can’t help but marvel at the sight. It’s a rare thing for you to smile like you’re doing now. It’s usually brief or sarcastic and never seems to reach your eyes. 
This one does.
He thinks you look pretty when you smile. It’s your smile, and it’s so warm that he wishes you could do it more often. He tells you as much, and a red color falls over your cheek. You promptly turn your face to the other side to save face, and it makes Luffy think.
When he thinks about his dream of becoming King of the Pirates, he can’t stop himself from smiling ear to ear. So, that begs the question: “What is your dream?” 
What makes you smile?
“My dream …” You reach for your apple and hold it against your face, the uneaten side of it shining against your face. “Is unattainable.
“I don’t think it is,” Luffy says without missing a beat and takes your hand in his, determined to make you see that. “I think that no matter how much stands against us, dreams are never impossible if you have the will to reach for them. All it takes is a little spirit.”
He doesn’t know where those words come from, but he’s heard them from someplace, and judging by your staggered reaction, you’ve heard them too. 
“A little spirit, huh?”
“Exactly! So, please tell me, what’s your dream?”
You look straight ahead into the room, resting your elbows back on the window frame without a word. He thinks you’re about to decline his question or ignore it altogether. However, he’s surprised to hear you actually answer this time, truthfully too.
“My dream was to sail the seas with him again.”
Suddenly, the itchiness on his head stops, and it stays that way.
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luveline · 8 months
Note
“would you still love me if i was a worm” with miguel pleasee 💔
ty for requesting i missed him sm ♡ fem!reader
Miguel has a resting bitch face. He seems unhappy nearly every minute of every day, though that unhappiness wanes ever so slightly as you perch yourself on his leg. He has wide thighs and strong arms. You may as well have sat on the trunk of an oak tree. 
"Yeah?" he asks. 
"What do you mean, yeah?" 
"You're about to ask me for something." 
"And you're definitely gonna say yes?" 
Miguel's hand coasts warm and wide up the breadth of your back. "I usually do." 
He does. He's good like that —even if he hates what you're asking for, he gives it. Last weekend you baked a cake on Saturday and decorated it together on Sunday. Miguel didn't baulk, and he not so secretly loved his Kiss the chef apron. 
"It's not for something, but that's a good start," you say. You don't bat an eye as he pulls your legs over his other thigh, sitting you more comfortably across his lap. "It's more like a possibility. Of a future promise." 
"We're not getting married." 
"Don't be stupid. You have to get me pregnant first, keep it classy." He laughs, his thighs shaking underneath you. "I'm kidding, we could totally do it that way–" 
"Ask me about your possibility." 
You heave a sigh at being interrupted, leaning heavy into his arm. Your cheek resting on the muscle of his bicep, you look up into his face framed by dark hair and debate forgetting the question to will him into kissing you. If you flare your eyes just so, lip gently pouted, you could goad him into taking the lead as he tends to. 
"Ask me," he says, lifting his chin a touch. 
"It's an easy question, handsome, don't worry…" You brace yourself. "Would you still love me if I was a worm?" 
"You are a worm." 
"Funny. I'm serious, Miguel."
He takes a breath. "Would I still love you if you turned into a worm, or if I met you as a worm? Those are different answers." 
"What? You're supposed to love me in both instances." 
"How would I fall in love with a worm?" 
"I did it," you tease, raising your head from his arm to speak against his neck. "I love you," you say into his skin, the vibrations of it tickling your lips. 
Miguel tips his head back to allow you better access, which is salacious enough to make you stop. This question is important. The curve of his neck and the lump of his Adam's apple are too distracting. 
He groans in frustration at your stopping and straightens up to meet your eyes. "I would still love you." His eyes narrow. "Why would you be a worm? Is there a worm-verse?" 
"Not to my knowledge. It's just for fun," you say, shrugging. 
"Well, yeah. I'd still love you. I'd turn you back into a person eventually. Any other hypotheticals to get out of the way? I'm busy." 
"Can I stay here while you work?" 
"Is that hypothetical?" he asks mildly, turning the chair you're in toward his monitor, an arm around your waist to seat belt you in. "Would you love me?" His voice is quieter now. "If I became a worm?" 
Your laugh is pure glee, "Are you kidding? I'd love you so much more if you were. I'd make you clothes, and a little mud house, and I'd feed you water from a little pipette like rain. You'd be the happiest worm ever." 
Miguel slides his thumb under your shirt. "Good to know," he says, kissing the back of your head lightly. 
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kikyan · 5 months
Text
Hellfire
Cw: Yandere content means Yandere content y’all, dub-con, stalking, obsessive behavior, abuse of power, Father/Priest! Rollo (AS IN PRIEST NOT INCEST), masturbation, body worship, oral (GN! Reader receiving), fingering, riding, religious themes, etc
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland 
Pairing: Rollo x GN! Reader 
Words: 9.5K 
A/N: Everyone look at your calendars and do you see how in reality it isn’t a New Year but rather Halloween and this Halloween special is coming out on the day it was meant to and not almost 3 months later? Fantastic, moving on. . .enjoy :)) 
A/N2: I want to preface this by saying that this fic does have religion/religious themes. This is not an accurate portrayal either, so please do not come for me-! I did grow up catholic but in my teen years became a full atheist so anything said in this fic is me recalling my childhood. Also, I googled bible verses because I don’t remember any and they were all in Spanish so, yeah. . .enjoy! :))
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The bells rang throughout Fleur City, signaling the start of Sunday mass. The crowd gathered, rushing to find any available seats to sit down on. Those unfortunate would have to stand, as they did not dare miss the mass. Father Rollo was an exceptional man, his voice and words rang throughout the church and captivated everyone who was blessed to be in his presence. He handled himself professionally, standing with an upright posture and his head was always looking ahead. He was truly a man befitting to be god's messenger. Fleur City was fortunate to have Father Rollo, he was a man adored by his people and [Reader] was no different. They were locked on Father Rollo who strutted with confidence,
 “Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you” 
His eyes locked with [Reader]. They broke away from his eyes but could still feel his piercing eyes on them. 
“I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” 
Cheers erupted from within the church the moment he finished his sentence. Mass was shortly concluded after the church staff asked for donations. Plenty of people offered whatever they could spare, but it was appreciated. The church was emptying but a few others stayed behind to have a few words with Father Rollo. [Reader] stayed seated but looked over at Father Rollo from the corner of their eye. He was attending to the people and their needs, he truly was a virtuous man. They averted their gaze when they saw Father Rollo turn to them. He bid goodbye to the troubled crowd. His heeled shoes echoed loudly through the emptying church, stopping in front of [Reader]. 
“[Reader], good morning. How have you been?” 
“Oh. . good morning, Father Rollo. I’ve been well, how about you?” 
“It has been a pleasant morning so far and I can only pray that it shall remain that way. Though I will say, it’s certainly comforting knowing you’re here. I did not see you anywhere last week.” 
“R-Right. . .my apologies. It certainly wasn’t my intention to miss last week’s mass, but I’m afraid I did end up catching a cold. It has since passed and I feel quite better.” 
“ You ought to take care of yourself, [Reader]. It would be a shame if something terrible happened to you. You are, after all, our number one devotee here at the Church. It would be rather quiet and lonely if you were to go.” 
“Ha ha, it was only a cold Father Rollo, not the plague. I assure you, I am fine. Besides, I’m pretty strong enough to handle an illness.” 
[Reader] returned a smile to Rollo, whose face remained expressionless, but his eyebrows furrowed upwards in un-amusement.  
“That you are, you have God’s protection as one of his children. Alas, I must be off. Till next we meet, [Reader].” 
Rollo turned around and left the main hall, leaving [Reader] alone. It was only for a split second, but he turned around to gaze at them again. 
[Reader] was in love with Rollo. Their greatest sin that would be known to the dead once they passed. They remember their first meeting, plain as day, unlike that stormy night where this story takes place. 
There was a storm and it was pouring. The kind that people were warned to stay indoors because of the severity, yet here [Reader] was running to the middle of the town where the church lay. Their face was coated in rainwater which made it almost impossible to keep their eyes open, they were struggling to breathe, and the cold that accompanied the storm did little to help. They were staggering over to the Church. 
“[READER!] GET BACK HERE NOW AND I MIGHT FORGIVE YOU!” 
Panic rose and they didn’t dare look back, for if they did, surely it would be their last. They didn’t dare scream for help, because they knew their cries would be drowned by the storm. They finally made it to the center, running up the stairs of the cathedral, and lunged to the door. No surprise that it was locked. 
“[READER]! STOP!”
“L-LEAVE ME ALONE! SANCTUARY, PLEASE GIVE ME SANCTUARY!” 
[Reader] pleaded and began to hit the doors with all their might. The person who was no doubt chasing after them continued their pursuit. They were approaching the steps and soon, close enough to reach out to [Reader]. Just in the nick of time, the door opened enough for [Reader] to throw themselves inside. They landed on the cold stone floors and used whatever strength they had to scramble away from the door. They looked up to see a skinny man with a pale face, green-blue eyes, dark bags under his eyes, and silver hair behind the door. He was adorned in an ankle-long robe and wore black-heeled loafers. His outfit certainly was nothing too fancy, then again it was the middle of the night. 
“S-Sanctuary! P-please, give me sanctuary!” 
“What seems to be the matter-!?” 
The man turned to them but was cut from the person chasing after [Reader]. 
“[Reader]! C’mere, now.” 
The anger in his voice disappeared but there was sternness laced in his request. The silver-haired man turned to the other person. The storm showered them, and the mud that they tracked in did not go unnoticed by the silver-haired man. 
“Forgive me. My name is Rollo Flamme, I am one of the priests here. May I ask what seems to be the issue? I certainly did not expect there to be anyone leisuring out in the streets with the storm raging outside.” 
The silver-haired man, now named ‘Rollo’, asked. Rollo turned to the person outside with an unamused expression. 
“Father Rollo, pardon the intrusion. You see, that person over there is named [Reader], they're my partner. My partner also suffers from an unstable state of mind. It would be best if we returned-!?” 
“Father Rollo, is everything alright?” 
They all turned to look at an elderly woman who no doubt worked for the church. Rollo shook his head and the woman took it as a sign to approach the door. 
“Everything is alright here, there is no need for the both of you to concern yourselves over our issues. Me and [Reader] would be taking our leave-!?” 
“I think not. It would be against everything we stand for if we turned away someone who came to this holy place and asked for sanctuary. I apologize, but I’ll be asking for you to leave. Madam, take this one,” 
Rollo turned to face [Reader], 
“This one inside. Run them a warm bath and please get them a fresh set of clothes. As for you, sir. . please leave.” 
[Reader’s] partner scoffed and stepped forward, 
“I wouldn’t recommend that.” 
He stopped after Rollo’s warning. Soon, others started to arrive within the church, including the guards. [Reader’s] partner glared at Rollo but decided against their actions. They just scoffed and went outside. The church’s door was shut and locked following his departure. 
[Reader] had been sitting on the floor, trying to steady their breathing. Rollo walked over to them and helped them off their feet. 
“You’re safe here in the house of God, he cannot hurt you any longer.” 
Rollo then walked away, moving people to their station leaving [Reader] alone with the Madam. 
“Come child, let’s get you out of those freezing clothes and into a warm bath.” 
That was the first time they met Rollo. 
Several weeks later, [Reader] was still within the church and assisting in any way they could. They would sometimes join the community in cleaning the church, making meals to provide during the holidays, and so forth. They were currently helping the volunteers make bread until Rollo arrived in the kitchen. 
“Good morning, Father Rollo! How may we assist you?” 
The elderly woman asked Rollo, who turned to face her. 
“Good morning, Madam. I see you’re all hard at work assisting the church so I won’t take up too much of your time. May I speak with [Reader]?” 
At the mention of their name, [Reader] perked up. The Madam turned to them and asked, 
“Of course, is that alright?” 
[Reader] nodded, dropping their task and washing their hands. They turned to look at Rollo who nodded, 
“This way, please.” 
Rollo led the way to his office and closed the door once they were both inside. He turned to them and offered the chair across from his. 
“Sit, please. Good morning, [Reader]. How are you this morning?” 
“Father Rollo. . .great. This morning has been great so far, busy but no complaints from me yet! How about yours?” 
“Fine, busy as well but such is life as God’s servant. Now, I wanted to discuss some things with you. The man that pursued you when you arrived at our doorsteps, I presume you would be content knowing that he has since left the town. He is no longer residing in Fleur City.” 
[Reader] let out a sigh of relief, since the day they arrived at the steps of the cathedral they have been residing within it. All housing was provided by the church as well as their meals. They weren’t expected to assist with the chores at the church, but they felt it was the least they could do. They would leave to go into town occasionally but always went with a guide or a guard in case anything happened. Rollo had made arrangements for them to avoid any further issues. They weren’t aware that their partner who had tormented them relentlessly had left the city or had any plans to. 
“Thank you. . . Father Rollo. I appreciate you informing me.” 
“ Of course, now that he has permanently left Fleur City we can arrange to get you a small place within the city. Don’t worry, if you still wish to assist the Church it will be nearby and the place will be within the guard's post. The area will be carefully monitored and maintained.” 
“Father Rollo. . that’s too much. I appreciate all you have done since that day, but asking for my living quarters would be too much-!” 
“Nonsense. You requested sanctuary from the church and since then, we have worked hard to provide that for you. It’s no trouble at all, you’re a precious child of God after all and he never abandons his children.” 
Rollo faced [Reader] who was deep in thought. A place to stay without the haunting memories of their partner who could care less about them. [Reader] turned their gaze to Rollo and smiled, 
“Thank you for your kindness, Father Rollo.” 
From then, [Reader] had been living in the house provided by the church. Their place was warm and cozy, but most importantly, theirs. As days went by, [Reader] continued to attend weekly mass and stayed behind to help the community with events. Though Rollo was a well-known priest, he certainly wasn’t the only one present in the cathedral. The community had gotten together to thank the priests and were thinking of how to repay each one. The madam took the request and decided to host a small celebration for them with food and games for the community. 
The entire town was invited to attend and they did, for there was no greater honor than celebrating their townsmen. Rollo stood in the center, overseeing the event rather than partaking in it like the other priests. He saw how his colleagues engaged with the town, his eyes were trained on them. They had no problem mingling with others and taking the front while Rollo chose to stay behind. 
“Are you not enjoying yourself, Father Rollo?” 
He turned to the voice, it was [Reader]. 
“I am, but conversing with others isn’t something I do quite well at. I leave that task, to the others. What about you, [Reader]?” 
“Oh, I am as well. I too, don’t tend to mingle with others, at least not in events like this. It’s still taking me a while to adjust to being in control of my own life.” 
Rollo spared a glance at [Reader] who sadly reminisced. Their partner would often take control of the conversation and not allow [Reader] to speak. They would often leave [Reader] in social gatherings to fend for themselves and never acknowledge their feelings. After a while and per their adored partner’s request, stopped leaving their shared home. This resulted in [Reader] self-isolating.  
“I see. Often, just being in the company of someone you trust is more than enough at events like these. However I do hope that moving forward, we can heal from the past.” 
Socializing wasn’t his strong suit; if he did, it was always formal and respectful. There was no time for jokes or silly banter, that is why Rollo helped Fleur City behind the scenes. He handled all formal matters while the others tended to the city with their words and charisma. Even now, his words of comfort were formal and didn’t properly convey his feelings. 
“One day, I will join the crowd again and this time, maybe I can take you with me, Father Rollo. Oh, by the way, I have something for you.” 
Rollo faced [Reader] who was looking into their pocket. 
“Here! I know it doesn’t mean much and it’s certainly a very cheap gift, but I want to express my gratitude. Thank you for all that you’ve done, Father Rollo. Without you, I don’t think I would be here with the Madam and the Town, so thank you.” 
He looked at his hands to see a wine-red handkerchief with purple embroidery on the outer edges, his name was woven into the corner. It was a simple gift really, but the difference with most gifts that he received was that this was hand-made. Handmade with love, love from the person that he cared the most about. Rollo stammered, 
“T-Thank you, I shall keep this with me at all times. It’s lovely, [Reader].” 
[Reader] turned to see his eyes gazing deeply at theirs. It was different, unlike a small expression of gratitude with professionalism laced Rollo’s eyes betrayed him. Behind his eyes, desire and love peeked through, even if it was for a split moment. 
“Of course. . .my pleasure, Father Rollo.” 
Rollo was called shortly after to attend to a matter within the cathedral, but before parting from [Reader], he promised he would return promptly. Rollo left and attended the matter fairly quickly, but before leaving to meet up with [Reader], he walked to his office. Locking the door, he took out the handkerchief and brought it up to his nose, inhaling the sweet scent from it. 
‘[Reader]’ 
Rollo recalled the memory of when he first laid eyes on them. It wasn’t anything too special, he was just in town when he stumbled upon them. Rollo has observed throughout his life all the filth from others and their actions. [Reader] had remained a pure innocent soul devoid of any sins. 
‘ Humans are sinful creatures and  that is why we exist. . .’ 
Rollo had engraved that concept into his mind. There are 7 sins within mankind - pride, wrath, envy, gluttony, sloth, greed, and lust. Humans will lie, cheat, steal, manipulate, and take advantage of others for personal greed. In reality, society has failed itself and remains to be a stain on this world. [Reader] was a positive chum, but was a sight to behold in a world of sin. 
Rollo was walking through town, which was a rare sight considering the only place you could glance at him would be in the cathedral. He noticed hidden behind a stall that there was a child, looking confused and scared. 
‘ No doubt lost.’ 
Rollo thought to himself but did not step forward just yet. He recalled a conversation he had with the Madam, a woman whom he respected as she was not like the others either. She had devoted herself to the church and helping others after the passing of her husband.  She would confess that no human was free of sin, but that didn’t mean that they were undeserving of God’s love and a place in his kingdom. It was silly, but he remembered what he told her after, 
“You’re right Madam, everyone is worthy of God’s love. Though do not underestimate humanity’s free will, some of them choose to sin and relish in their filth.”  
The madam shook her head and reminded Rollo that he should not be so quick to place judgment on others, but it was futile. 
He recalled that memory as he saw the scene displayed in front of him, a defenseless child turning to adults begging for help. Those same ‘adults’ had brushed the child off and some even as far to push the child away. 
“P-Please, I can’t find my mommy-” 
“Not interested.” 
“Stay clear of the road! Damn, brats. . .” 
‘Are these the same people who deserve God’s love, Madam?’
Rollo began walking to the child but stopped when he noticed another individual walk up to the child, 
“My name is [Reader], are you lost? Did you lose your parents?” 
The child nodded and [Reader] lightly brushed the tears that were forming away, 
“I see, well let me try to help you find them. When did you see them last?” 
“I saw my mommy over there. . .” 
The child pointed towards the growing crowd. In theory, this mother could be anywhere but if she was observant then no doubt she noticed her child missing. [Reader] nodded and held out their hand to the child, asking permission to hold their hand. The child allowed it, letting [Reader] lead them into the crowd. The child's grip tightened, afraid to lose their newfound savior. Rollo followed them, wanting to make sure that this child wasn’t going to be kidnapped. He saw how ‘[Reader]’ was holding onto the child and stopping in the area, asking the child if they saw their mother. When the child shook their head, [Reader] would begin calling out if someone lost their child. The town was busy and [Reader’s] cries were lost to the wind, but they did not lose their determination. After half an hour, Rollo heard a woman frantically calling out what was probably the child's name as the child perked up at the mention of it. [Reader] carefully maneuvered their way across the crowd to reunite the mother and child. Rollo witnessed the scene of the mother and child holding each other close, the mother turning to [Reader] and thanking them, and [Reader] reassuring them. Rollo scoffed, one person was not enough to persuade his mind that humanity was any different. It didn’t just stop there, weeks after the incident they had another run-in with them - at a distance, of course. 
[Reader] was in the market with the intent of buying groceries, but instead offered to help the people at the stands. It was a never-ending cycle, when they finished their task another person went to them asking for help. 
‘They’re a fool, they’re being taken advantage of by the others-’ 
“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t mind helping but I haven’t finished my shopping. When I finish and if you still need help I can come back.” 
“Oh, I’m sorry [Reader], I didn’t mean to take up your time! It’s fine if you can’t, but thank you anyway.” 
[Reader] politely excused themselves and finished their shopping. A couple of instances off the top of his head that Rollo remembered, [Reader] buying food for a beggar on the street, helping an elderly person cross the street, helping a cat out of their collar once they noticed it was choking from it, and when they helped stitch back up a child's toy once it was ruined. Rollo was getting irritated at this point, 
‘Madam, I swear it’s like you enjoy tormenting me. . .are you trying to prove a point?’ 
The scowl written on his face was unwavering as he continued to observe this happy-go-lucky person. He managed to overhear the conversation between [Reader] and another person. 
“You’re so nice [Reader], it’s so rare to find someone who cares about people the way you do!” 
“You think so? I don’t think I am doing anything too grand, I just do what comes normal to me.” 
“Yes! You have a heart of gold, I mean you offer to help when needed. You should be careful though, people out there would take advantage of that kindness.” 
“Hm, I guess. I mean, I just do what I can but if it’s too much or something I can’t do I’m not opposed to saying no. I think a lot of people just think I’m too nice because they’re just used to being treated with little kindness. I don’t want to be a bystander if I can do something. I hold the door for people if they’re close and I’m not going to shut the door on them, it’s not like it takes too much time.” 
“Aw, you’re so nice.” 
“I don’t think so, I mean would you shut the door on me if I was behind you?” 
“Well. . .” 
“Then you’re just too mean.” 
[Reader] and the person exchanged a laugh before parting ways. Rollo stood still and turned to see [Reader] back in the distance, leaving the marketplace. His resolve didn’t sway, humans were still corrupt and undeserving of salvation, the only difference now was that there was an exception. Rollo would be lying if he sometimes didn’t go into town to glance at [Reader] and if he was lucky enough, he would be there at the same time. Over months though, he began to see less and less of them. He started to worry a bit, for the first weeks he chalked it up to [Reader] wanting time away from town but was surprised to know that nobody had seen them in the market for a month. Rollo approached a vendor, starting small talk, 
“Good morning, Father Rollo. How do you do today?” 
“I’m quite fine, thank you for asking. How about yourself?”
“Aw well, same! Business has been booming but I haven’t seen my top customer in a while!” 
“Oh, and who is that?” 
“[Reader]! They’re a sweet thing but suddenly stopped coming into town. I won’t lie, I am a little worried about them.” 
“[Reader]? I don’t believe I’ve seen them at mass. . .” 
“]Reader] used to go if I remember correctly, but I’m not too sure. I know they used to into town daily, aside from their work they loved to walk around the city. I think they stopped coming out as much a year or two ago, sometimes though they’ll come daily but it’s so rare when they do! I’m not quite sure why-!” 
“It’s because of their partner!” 
Rollo and the vendor turned to another person, an elderly lady who had joined the conversation. 
“Their partner. . .?” 
Rollo questioned, 
“Yes! At first, it was sweet. They met at [Readers’s] work and instantly became close, I would sometimes frequent their workplace you see. Their partner treated them with so much kindness but after a while, it was plain as day, he was isolating them! I remember I was walking home when I overheard them get into an argument, he wanted [Reader] to quit their job. [Reader] refused and that was the end of it, I’m not sure how they managed to persuade him because all I could hear was his yelling. After a while, [Reader] didn’t come to work and I thought they did quit, but when they came back they weren’t the same. They were still kind as ever, but you could tell something was off. Whenever they do come into town, it’s because their partner isn’t in Fleur City. I heard he sometimes goes back to take care of his ill parents.” 
Rollo was conflicted, who was this woman to be spreading such personal information of theirs but he had to thank her, without her, he never would have come to realize what needed to be done. Rollo had to admit, over the time he spent observing [Reader] he did become enamored with them. One true nature is revealed in several ways, how one presents oneself, their thoughts and actions, and what one preaches. Their nature had long been revealed, [Reader] was the only person whom Rollo believed was deserving of God’s love and he would not let them become a martyr for those deserving the flames of hell. 
Rollo set his plan in motion. He carefully wrote a letter and paid someone who the town would never recognize to deliver it into the hands of [Reader’s] partner. Their partner read the contents and before they could react, the person who delivered it had vanished to report to Rollo. 
“It’s been done?” 
“Yes, Father Rollo. May I ask though, what do you plan-” 
“That’s enough, you needn't worry about the content of the letter. Your task was to deliver, which you have. You’re free to go.” 
The man excused himself, leaving Rollo at his desk with his elbows propped but his hands were close together. He was deep in thought, 
“He would be wise to appear later tonight if he truly cares for his parents.” 
Later that night, their partner had walked down to the waterways. There, they met a cloaked individual. 
“Are you the one who sent me that letter? Who the fuck do you think you are to threaten my family-!” 
“I wouldn’t if I were you.” 
The cloaked individual placed their hand out, to halt them from coming closer. They used that same hand to point upwards. When [Reader’s] partner looked up, they were met with several shadows who were not afraid to display their weapons. 
“What do you want?” 
Their partner scoffed out. The cloaked individual spoke out, 
“You have a partner by the name of [Reader]. Let’s just say that they owe me something, that being said it’s hard for us to come in contact with one another. This is where you come in, I need you to lure them into town. Do it on a rainy day, when there are fewer people to overhear, but I need you to lure them to the center of town. Make sure that nobody sees you two or asks about you, do you understand?” 
“What do they owe you-?!” 
“That’s none of your concern! Just, lure them into the center of the town. My men will be watching to make sure no one interferes but remember, if someone comes to find out about this plan. Well, you know what will happen to your family, understood?” 
Their partner gulped in fear and nodded, 
“You may go, and remember to not tell a single soul about this. I’ll always be listening.” 
They remained still for a brief moment, processing the words of the individual, before running out. Once they were out of sight, the person removed their cloak. Rollo stood in the center, looking at the moon and breathing out a sigh of relief. Those armed shadows turned to Rollo and asked, 
“Father Rollo, may I ask who that man is?” 
“Just someone this world would be better without. Keep me updated on his location and if he says anything. Remember, this is all to protect Fleur City.” 
Rollo disappeared within the waterways. 
Rollo approached the fireplace in his office and looked down at the handkerchief once more before tenderly caressing it into his face. 
“[Reader], I’ll repeat your name over and over like a prayer, I’d never tire of it. . .if only you knew of all things I did for you to be by my side. . .” 
The memory rolled over in his head, 
“There is a storm coming, we should make preparations in case of anything.” 
“Oh, you’re always so diligent and a step ahead, Father Rollo.” 
“Madam, one can never be too prepared.” 
The madam shook her head at Rollo’s comments but carried out his request. He had stood in preparation for anything. If what was revealed was true, then [Reader] was certainly being isolated by their partner. Their abusive partner would take advantage of another. That being said, he planned to make it so that they lured [Reader] out into the center of town, where the cathedral lay. Their partner may not know it as he was certain he had never seen him before but [Reader] should. They would request sanctuary from the church and there, He would be by the door, awaiting his beloved with open arms. 
Before he knew it, he could hear the shouts and screams outside the door. 
“Sanctuary, give me sanctuary!” 
Before long, Rollo had opened the door and with a perfect facade, displayed concern. He could tell the way their partner trembled that he had feared for his family, he was caught by the church. Their partner had no choice but to flee the scene with their tail between his legs. After Rollo instructed the Madam to watch over [Reader], Rollo had the guards chase after their partner. In the meantime, Rollo had placed his cloak on and made his way to the outskirts of town where he was being held. 
“L-Let me go! Damn it, it wasn’t my fault-!” 
“Didn’t I tell you not to let anyone interfere?” 
“I-it wasn’t my fault! The church and that stupid priest got in the way! P-please leave my f-family alone-!” 
Rollo removed his cloak and presented himself to their ex-partner. 
“Y-you!?” 
“Don’t worry, your family won’t suffer. Though I will admit, I didn’t think you would go through with sacrificing them.” 
“Y-You threatened my family, w-why wouldn’t I?” 
“I suppose there is some logic to that reason. Tell me, did you even love them?” 
“W-what? I-I suppose I did?” 
“You suppose? You’re not certain?” 
Rollo questioned them further, 
“I mean yes! Yes, I did love them! W-what does this have to do with anything, you said they owed you something no-?” 
“ No, they don’t. I did this more to see what you would do and you played right into it. Once again, I was proved right. Humanity is undeserving of God’s love and salvation, you’re all just scum that turn against each other at any moment it’s convenient. You disgust me.” 
“Y-You did this to prove a point!? Y-You think I won’t reveal to the townspeople who their beloved priest is?” 
“Not very intelligent either, are you? I’m not worried, because this is where judgment shall be passed onto you. This goes a little deeper than what you think, but no matter. I hereby declare you, guilty, and your sentence, punished by death. Dispose of him.” 
Rollo turned around, ignoring the pleas of that man. He did turn around to see their execution, before turning back. 
“We shall burn his body, but in the meantime place him somewhere no one will find out. Oh and, arrange for someone to take care of his parents. Hire a doctor to live with them.” 
The others nodded and carried out the order. Rollo headed back to town with a clear conscious. 
His attention remained on the flames. They had burned his body and afterward, devised a plan to break the news to his parents.  As far as they were concerned, he had passed away from a natural cause but because he was such a good member of the church, he was able to have a doctor stay with them full-time. He placed a chaste kiss on the handkerchief, 
‘This burning desire is turning me to sin. . .’ 
Rollo was sitting at the Confessional and while he was a man of God, he was also human. Like humans, he was running short of his patience. Father Rollo was a devoted man to his occupation, but of course, even messengers of God need time of their own. He was covering for another priest, Father Phoebus, who unexpectedly became ill. Rollo’s face turned into one of annoyance and anger, he was certain that the priest wasn’t ill but rather skipping out on his duties. 
‘ No matter, confession ends in about 10 minutes. . .I just need to hold out till then.’ 
Rollo’s optimistic outlook was shattered the moment he heard someone else sit on the other side of the confessional. He rolled his eyes before turning to the wooden lattice opening but stiffened when he saw it was [Reader]. Luckily, this confessional was designed so that the priest would be hidden away and the penitent was visible. 
“I do apologize for coming in so late, Father Phoebus. . but I would like to confess my sins.” 
Rollo cleared his throat, 
“Of course, please, confess to me what ails you.” 
He placed his gaze at [Reader], who remained unaware that instead of Father Phoebus, it was Rollo. 
“Right, to be honest, I’m not quite sure where to begin. All I know is, I’m committing a grave sin. I ... . .in love with a man that I cannot have. He is married to a vow.” 
Rollo’s breath hitched, turned to stare at [Reader] who looked down in regret and disappointment.
“M-married? May I ask, which vow this man is married to?” 
[Reader] stiffened at the question, 
“Father Phoebus. . .it's Father Rollo who I am enamored with. He is God's messenger and as such, I know my feelings will never be reciprocated yet! Yet, I can’t help but still love him.” 
Rollo knew that Reader required guidance and genuine support, but he couldn’t help the need or desire after hearing that the one he loved also felt the same. He pulled out the wine-red handkerchief with the beautiful purple embroidery that outlined the cloth and spelled his name on the corner. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help it as his dick hardened at the idea of [Reader]. 
“T-tell me, how much you love him?” 
Rollo swallowed the lump in his throat. 
“O-Oh w-well. . .” 
It was an awkward question no doubt so there was some resistance from [Reader]. Rollo pressed on, 
“I would like to know how deep your admiration goes so that I c-can properly guide you.” 
“R-right. . well, I love him. At first, I thought it was just admiration because he helped me get back on my feet. When I gave him his handkerchief, I saw more than a simple thanks on his face, but a face of genuine gratitude, which made me fall deeper. I know he’s only being kind to me because it’s the right thing to do and not because of any special treatment, but I can’t help but-” 
Rollo continued to listen to their feelings, but he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t thinking about stroking his cock to their voice. Rollo had never experienced such feelings towards anyone before, but after meeting [Reader] he became a victim of the sin of greed and lust. 
“Though I will admit, maybe the reason I love him is because I feel safe and secure with him. With my past partner, I didn’t feel the same sense of security. I did at first, but after a while, they became the aggressor. I’m not sure why I didn’t leave immediately after and I kept beating myself up about but Father Rollo, assured me that it was not my fault. He was so kind and understanding, it was different from the others who told me something similar. It was sincere from both sides, but with him it was. . it was different.” 
When they finished confessing, Rollo spoke, 
“I don’t think you should be ashamed of your feelings. It’s a natural human thing to feel, love that is. You’re right, Father Rollo is a man tied to an oath by the Church. Under the eyes of God, he may not reciprocate your feelings but that doesn’t mean he would see you any less different. Your sins are forgiven, my child.” 
[Reader] nodded and bid farewell to ‘Father Phoebus’. Rollo watched their figure retreat and let out a breath of relief. Though he could not stop the pounding in his heart nor the tent in his pants. 
“F-Fuck! [R-Reader]-!” 
Rollo had retreated to his office once confessions were over, there he had his handkerchief wrapped around his dick, jerking himself off. The one that he loved felt the same for him but he was sure their love was not the same as his obsession with them. Such a pure and innocent crush on him whereas he shamefully was stroking his cock to the idea of touching them. 
“Ha. . ha. . wanna t-touch you, fuck-!” 
He threw his head back at the pleasure, how would [Reader] react to seeing their beloved Father Rollo fuck the handkerchief that they had gifted him. His orgasm was approaching and his whines were getting louder, he leaned over his table and spilled his seed onto the wine-red cloth, sweat adorning his face. He let out a sigh of relief and sat down on his chair. He thought of [Reader] and this new found confession. Rollo’s mind was made up. 
“I think we’re all good to go, [Reader] we’re heading out now!” 
“Have a good night!” 
[Reader] bid the other church volunteers farewell before giving the church one last good look. They were about to grab their things to depart as well before the doors opened. They turned to look at Father Rollo, who emerged from his office. 
“F-Father Rollo. . .what brings you out here so late?” 
“I’m just giving the Church one final look, but I did hope to catch you before you left.” 
“Me?” 
“Yes, come [Reader], take a walk with me.” 
[Reader] approached Rollo and their walk began. He was taking them across the Cathedral to put out the candles. 
“I know it’s been a while, but how have you been enjoying yourself in Fleur City?” 
“Oh, just fine! Thank you again, for all that you’ve done of course. It certainly feels amazing being able to freely leave and return without being shackled down. Not to mention, it’s a lot more eventful than I remember.” 
“I see, Father Pheobus has attempted to get more events hosted by the church. He would like the city to get together once in a while. It’s something new that he has been doing, but it seems that the townspeople enjoy it.” 
“That they do, may I ask, Father Rollo? Do you not like to get involved in events like these?” 
The main hall of the Cathedral was darkening with each step, 
“I wouldn’t say I dislike it. Socializing with others isn’t my strong suit, I tend to other matters that I excel at rather than mistakenly saying something I don’t mean.” 
[Reader] had noticed that Rollo tended to stay in the shadows and only speak when something needed to be said. If someone approached him and tried conversing, Rollo would maintain the utmost professionalism. He wasn’t one for idle chatter but never turned someone down if they wanted to have a word with him. Rollo continued his task, with [Reader] following close behind. 
“That’s fair. Sometimes not saying anything is the proper response, but I can see how that may stress you out. After all, you are a priest and everyone’s eyes are on you. Sorry, don’t mean to add to the pressure either.” 
As the candles were extinguished one by one, Rollo’s heels added to the ominous vibe that the Cathedral was giving. 
“You’re right, [Reader]. As a priest, all their eyes are on me waiting to hear what I  say but as such, my eyes are also on them. Despite what I preach, I believe that not everyone is capable of salvation. Humans are not devoid of sin, that is the truth. Though we are created in God’s image, we certainly are not perfect. There are those where their sins are mistakes and nothing more. Then some’s sins are perfectly under their control yet still choose to see nothing wrong in their actions. You can have that outlier where one of those wishes to repent and truly feel regret, but then some parade around shamelessly into God’s house asking for forgiveness. It’s laughable.” 
[Reader] remained silent. There was nothing they could say because ultimately, Father Rollo was right to some degree. Though they would be lying if they weren’t off-put by his sudden change. 
“ Did you know that the baker is having an affair? Ongoing for four years actually, yet he never fails to bring his wife and kids into mass every Sunday morning, thanking God for allowing them to live the way they do. They recently had their marriage anniversary, married for 10 years to be exact. I remember I was the one who renewed their vows. His words still ring in my head,”
“I will love you forever and until the end. You’re the pillar that provides me with the strength to keep going. I would never want another partner other than you, the woman I chose to be the mother of my children. I thank God for this blessing that is you, my love.” 
“How romantic, don’t you think? That same night he went back to his other partner, claiming that they had a big order for an event and he needed to be one step ahead of the game. How could I forget the previous head of the Orphanage, asking for food to provide for the children? The church and townspeople helped with what they could, but every time those children would come into mass they remained as thin as ever but the head remained full and content. It wasn’t until I stepped in and of course, led an investigation to find out that he was starving the kids and eating all the food. Now the orphanage is under the care of the Church, to be more specific, under my direct care. Don’t you see how happy those children are every time you come to mass? I even remember when Madam first came to the church, she told us the story of her husband's passing. She and her beloved husband were walking back home when an armed assailant was waiting for them, upon asking for their valuables he stabbed her husband over 27 times before fleeing. When the man was caught, he was just a petty thief who confessed to the crime. Their reasoning was they had no need to steal but got a kick out of watching the fear in the eyes of the defenseless manifest and to make matters worse, this was his first time killing since he never dared to do it before. What could an elderly man do to him had he chosen to fight back, nothing. That same thief pleaded with God before his execution that I had carried out, to spare him.” 
By the time Rollo had gotten to his part in his talk, almost all the candles were out except for four in the front of the altar. There Rollo turned around, facing [Reader] who stood in the middle closest to the altar. He was closest to the church doors but that area had been pitch black. He continued his speech and though he did not pose a threat to [Reader], yet, They couldn’t help the goosebumps that were forming on their skin and the sudden draft within the Cathedral. 
“Of course, the world is not black and white. There is no right or wrong, for if there was I too would have been punished. It’s not practical for me to base my distaste of humanity on a few bad apples, Madam, even after everything she went through still says that everyone deserves salvation but it’s like you said, [Reader]. We’re all so used to this world the way it is that a simple act of kindness, normalcy if you will, is considered a rarity.” 
[Reader] had recalled when they told that vendor that, those were their words and they still stood by it. The only thing was, they told that to the vendor, not Rollo. They shakily took a step back but kept their eyes trained on Rollo. He noticed their expression as well as their stance, but it was no use. The door to the church was locked and only Rollo had the key. He took a step forward, emerging from the darkness and [Reader] took a step back. 
“F-Father Rollo. . is this what you wanted to talk to me about? Sorry. . I just don’t know how this relates to me. . .” 
He let out a chuckle, 
“ You asked why I don’t like to get involved, right? That is my answer. It’s hard to get involved when I am surrounded by the same people I wish I could condemn. However, you are different. I’ll let you in on a little secret, I too have been keeping an eye on you long before we officially met.  You treated everyone with kindness even those that did not deserve it. You remained as human as possible, someone who could voice their feelings and care for everyone equally, even yourself. It was a sight for sore eyes, like an angel in a sea of devils. You tried your best and worked hard, but you knew what you could and couldn’t do. You were even starting to make me regain hope in this world but I quickly noticed that warm light inside of you start to flicker. It was all because of him, [Partner’s Name]. He had slowly started to dim that warm light inside of you and I couldn’t do anything, or so I thought. Your partner driving you out of your home was not accidental,  I can assure you. I had him lure you here, into the Church. There, I was able to save you from him.” 
[Reader’s] breath hitched. They had always assumed that all the events that led up to now were a mere coincidence, life just being its usual confusing self. It was not unusual for their partner to enter their shared home and demand things, bossing them around. They had assumed that it was the usual same old story. This didn’t change how they saw their partner and their relief that he was no longer in their life, but it changed their perception of Rollo. Had Rollo orchestrated their whole thing? Since when? For how long? Most importantly, for what? 
“Since we are in a church, I might as well confess. I have kept my eye on every single Fleur citizen since I became a priest, but I have kept my eye on you for months now. It’s hard for me to communicate with everyone, but not you [Reader]. Since I’ve been admiring you from a distance, I’ve come to love you. I love your person and your way of being. Your kindness, your truth, your struggles, everything about you I have come to love.” 
By now, [Reader] was up against the altar with Rollo standing in front of them. Both were illuminated by the remaining candles, his hand reached out to caress their cheek. 
“I’ve come to love everything about you, [Reader], even the parts that you aren’t aware of. I’ll remain to love them as well, for there is no one else.” 
“F-Father R-Rollo, I-!” 
He leaned closer to them, his piercing blue-green eyes staring into [Readers] fearful and confused ones. He placed a kiss on their lips, tilting their head back to get a better angle. Seconds passed before he lifted his lips from them, 
“. .And if you were to fall into sin, let it be by my hands.” 
Conflicted could not begin to describe it. The person they loved reciprocated their feelings, so much that they kissed at this very moment. Though logically speaking, Rollo had just admitted to orchestrating the whole thing. Who knew what was the truth and what was a lie? Did their partner move? Was it willingly? Most importantly, did it matter? Sure, maybe there was a time when logic was sound but that time wasn’t right now. Thinking with their heart, [Reader] kissed back. They shared a deep and sensual kiss that neither one dared to break. Rollo pushed his body up against [Reader], grinding into them. The altar luckily wasn’t too high, but there were small steps on either side that allowed them to effortlessly get on the altar. Rollo managed to push their back flat against the cold marbled table, 
“F-Father R-Rollo, are you sure? Y-you’re a man with a vow and-” 
“[Reader], I love you.” 
Their eyes widened once more at the confession and looking up, they weren’t meant with the Rollo they knew. He was no longer stoic and professional, this Rollo was vulnerable. His cheeks were flushed pink as he straddled [Reader’s] hips. His body loomed over theirs and his hands went to open their top. His eyes were glossed over with love and desire. [Reader’s] top was opened to expose their chest and his hands lightly touched their skin. His cold fingers trailed from their neck, chest, and lastly their nipples. Rollo let out a shaky sigh, 
“I love you. Let me worship you, with God as my witness let me prove my devotion to you. .” 
Rollo’s lips neared [Reader’s] and they exchanged a kiss. He lightly bit on their bottom lip, asking for permission to further taste them. A moan escaped [Reader] but they opened their mouth to allow his tongue inside. Rollo pressed himself further into [Reader], afraid to let go. Needing air, [Reader] placed their hands on his clothed chest, pushing against it. Releasing their lips, Rollo straightened but released a breathy moan. [Reader] could see the warmth spreading across his pale skin, but could also feel his growing bulge. Rollo began to lean back down but stopped when [Reader] went to open his top. He allowed them to strip him of his shirt, allowing his pale chest to be exposed. 
“I want to see you too, R-Rollo. . .” 
The tip of his ears turned pink at the comment. He leaned down to their neck, licking up and down. Nibbling and biting down to create hickeys. His lips trailed down, kissing the skin around the newly formed hickey and down to their chest. Moans spilled from both Rollo and [Reader], the pleasure shared between the two. His tongue swirled around their nipple, lightly biting and sucking on them. [Reader] tenderly held Rollo’s head as he worked on their chest. Shaky breaths echoed throughout the Cathedral. 
“F-Fuck. . R-Rollo-!” 
Rollo lifted himself from their chest and saw the bright pink/red circular marks all across their chest. 
“Not enough. . .it’s not e-enough. . “ 
Rollo leaned back down, kissing down to their navel area. His hands played with their bottoms, opening them agonizingly slow. He pulled them down their legs and he shifted back, making sure he could properly remove them. 
“F-Fuck, y-your sex. . .” 
Rollo’s shaky moans slipped out, he stared in awe at [Reader’s] aroused sex. He shifted back before nearing their sex and inhaling their scent. Rollo’s fingers carefully touched around, going to their most sensitive spot and circling his finger around. 
“R-Rollo…right there…feels good….” 
Rollo nodded, continuing to circle his finger. After a while he leaned down, placing his tongue on their sensitive spot. He licked around, replacing the movement of his finger, and began to lick up and down. [Reader] let out soft moans and breaths as he continued pleasuring them. He began to kiss, suck, lick, pinch, and stroke their sensitive bits. Rollo took a break to lick his fingers and pushed them against [Reader’s] hole. Lightly inserting a finger inside, feeling them clench around it. 
“Do you lust for me. . the same way I lust for you?” 
“ I-I’ve a-always wanted you-ngh!” 
Though Rollo wasn’t attending to their sex with his mouth, he was still reaching inside them with his fingers. Slipping a second finger to curl up against that soft spot inside them, pumping rhythmically. Rollo leaned back down, placing his mouth back on their sex. Rollo himself wasn’t too experienced, but based on their sounds, he knew more or so where to touch. His long slender fingers managed to reach thoroughly and the stimulation with his tongue was overwhelming.
“F-Fuck Rollo, g-gonna cum-!” 
Rollo continued to abuse their sex, giving them that final push needed to orgasm. Rollo’s face was drenched with drool and cum, but still managed to swallow everything that they released. He unbuttoned his pants, releasing his cock that was already leaking pre-cum. He wrapped his hands around it, stroking himself. 
“Can I-fuck! P-put it inside you. . .?” 
Rollo’s half-lidded eyes pleaded with [Reader’s], begging to fuck them.  [Reader] propped themself up with their elbow, sat up, and kissed him. Rollo leaned forward to reciprocate. They placed their hands on his cheeks and lightly caressed, 
“You may. . .but can I. .be on top?” 
Rollo softly nodded, letting [Reader] guide him to lie down on the altar instead. [Reader] went to stimulate his already hard dick, but wrapped their hands around it and jerk him, smearing his pre-cum around. They licked their fingers and trailed them down to their hole, lightly fingering themselves to adjust to his size. They scissored themself and when they were ready, hovered over his cock. They lowered themselves onto Rollo’s cock, clenching down on his dick. 
“F-Fuck you’re tight-!” 
Rollo threw his head back at the sensation and his hands reached to hold [Reader’s] hip. [Reader] stayed still to adjust to his size but after a while, began to move. Riding his cock, [Reader] threw their head back as breaths left them, their back slowly arching. Rollo thrust, matching their pace as well. One of his hands moved to their sex, stimulating it at the same pace. 
Aside from the candles, the moonlight entered the Cathedral through the stained glass. The hue of the deep blues and purples reflected off their skin, creating an almost angelic glow. Their moans and whines echoed throughout the church, Rollo’s back was on the altar and his body coated in sweat. His eyes glossed over with tears, looking over at [Reader] who fared the same. Their body was sweaty and warm, their movements were slowing with time. Rollo’s thrust became more erratic, reaching deeper into [Reader]. 
“I-I’m close-! F-Fuck, f-feels s-so good-! Rollo!” 
Mewls spilled out of [Reader]’s mouth. 
“M-Me too-! I-I love you! L-Love you so much! God, I love you so much, [Reader]!” 
“I l-love you too, R-Rollo-!” 
With their final declaration of love, [Reader] came all over Rollo and he came deep inside of them. Their deep breaths were heard throughout the cathedral. [Reader] slumped on top of Rollo with his cock still inside them. They nuzzled into Rollo’s neck, peppering light kisses. 
“Love you s’much, Rollo.” 
“I love you too. . .[Reader].” 
His arms wrapped around them, pressing them closer into him. They stayed like that for a while, before [Reader] perked up, looking at his face. 
“I-I do have a question though. . .did you know that I liked you?” 
Rollo looked down to see their curious gaze, he adverted his eyes with a blush staining his cheeks. 
“It. . .it wasn’t Father Pheobus in the Confessional. It. . .it was me. . .” 
[Readers] face fell, 
“S-SO I CONFESSED TO YOU?” 
[Reader] buried their face in his neck, Rollo let out a soft smile at their antics. 
“That you did. Though I am glad, without you confessing to me, this never would have happened.” 
Still buried in his neck, they mumbled a couple of words. 
“I love you. . .” 
Rollo, of course, said it back. He could hear their soft snores, they had passed out from exhaustion. Only one thought lay in his mind, there was no one else other than him that could preserve the purity within [Reader]. 
‘If hellfire must consume me, so be it. I will never let anyone else take you away from me. Your purity is for me to preserve and to taint, no one else.’ 
This was only the beginning of the tragic tell that would come about to Twisted Wonderland. The story of the righteous priest and judge who burned down Fleur City, all because of their desire for someone they could never truly have. 
A/N: So that was a long one. . .how we feeling? I don’t think I will ever write a part 2, sorry :(( UNLESS I get inspiration but I do want to write headcanons for him so maybe? That being said I will be posting another post that will talk about the future of this blog (I AM NOT LEAVING DW)! That being said, I want to thank my friends for helping me with this fic! Special mention to my friend who helped me confirm his personality for me (I love you Nova) and my other friend, who got horny thoughts when they went to church! :3 
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