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vanteguccir · 2 months

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Opposite | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N and Matt are polar opposites.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by @lightsgore

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

PS.: This accidentally took a turn for a kind of "grumpy x sunshine", but I hope you like it either way!

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Matt was not an extroverted person. Unsurprisingly, he was a quieter, more reserved guy who liked to have his own space and took his own time to say what he wanted if he was asked to do so. His mood would change drastically if he was forced to talk when or with whoever he didn't want to.

Y/N, on the other hand, looked like a little ball of light that wouldn't stay still. She had a habit of talking a lot in a short space of time, uttering words until she was out of breath. In addition to always seeming to be in a good mood, a smile decorating her face like a permanent tattoo. Energetic was the word that defined her.

Therefore, when she and Matt revealed their relationship to the public, many fans didn't understand the origin of their love, as they were very different, literally polar opposites.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"... Stop! Stop protecting your insecurities because you know you have an ass haircut, so you're projecting what could possibly happen to me! At least I'm willing to take that change." Nick screamed next to Y/N, moving his arms comically in exaggerated despair.

Chris laughed loudly at his speech, leaning his back against the car door from the passenger seat so that he could have a better view of the back. Matt smiled as he shook his head, watching them in the rearview mirror.

Y/N quickly nodded her head, her eyes wide as she raised her hands, showing that she wanted to initiate her own opinion on the matter.

"Exactly! You only try to diminish others because you are insecure about yourself. It's impossible to be friends with people like that. They are always trying to diminish someone, saying absurd things that cause so much discomfort." She spoke quickly, gesturing with her hands as her eyes darted between Nick and the rearview mirror, or rather, Matt's blue eyes.

Matt watched her with eyes full of love and affection, nodding his head in agreement to what she was saying.

"They're always talking bad about someone, have you noticed?" Y/N turned to face the blonde next to her, pointing her right index finger towards him, who hummed.

"Yes, exactly!" Nick shouted, slamming his hands against the back of Chris's seat, earning an angry shout from the boy.

"People can only give what they have inside themselves." Y/N finished her train of thought, shrugging as she licked her lips, wetting them.

Matt quickly reached for the bottle of his own tea in the cup holder between the front seats, opening the lid and turning his upper body towards the back, silently offering the drink to his girlfriend. She smiled big, sending a wink as a "thank you" before taking the bottle.

"It's good to have Y/N in a video with us. She speaks for both of them." Chris commented briefly, pointing to Y/N and Matt, letting out a hysterical laugh when he saw Matt rolling his eyes - but still not denying anything.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Matt was fast asleep. His head buried in the white pillow, and his body curled up like a burrito around the fluffy duvet. His mouth was half open, low snores escaping from between his lips. His eyelids trembled slightly, showing that his mind was sailing through dream land.

Y/N slowly opened the door with her elbow, her hands occupied by a wooden tray that held a simple but nutritious breakfast for two. The girl had a big smile decorating her face as she walked with light steps towards the bed.

She placed the tray on the closest bedside table in one quick movement before going to the windows, opening the black-out curtains, allowing the sunlight to illuminate the room completely.

A grumbling sound was heard from the bed, Matt lifting the duvet to the top of his head, still half asleep. Y/N smiled at his reaction, quickly walking to the bed, kneeling on the mattress and pulling the blanket off the boy, laying her chest on her boyfriend's bare one, bringing her face closer to his.

"Good morning, my love." She murmured against his cheek, sealing her lips over his skin repeatedly.

Matt grumbled again, his brow furrowing in false anger but pushing his face against hers lightly, enjoying the feeling of being showered in affection by his girlfriend.

"Come on baby, wake up!" Y/N asked a few seconds later - after seeing his eyes closing again -, her fingers pulling Matt's eyebrows up slightly, watching him forcefully open his blue orbs.

Her laughter echoed through the room as the boy pretended to go bite her, a smile spreading across his face instantly.

"It's such a beautiful day outside. I thought we'd have a picnic. Or we could go to that golf park. Oh oh oh, or we could cook that blackberry pie you wanted. We could also-" Her words came quickly, excitement evident in her voice.

Matt's sleepy brain took a few minutes to process what his girlfriend was saying, his head just nodding in agreement without even knowing what he was agreeing to.

"Can we?" Y/N's question caught his attention. Matt only opened his right eye, looking at her for a few seconds, trying to search in his mind what she was asking him to do without achieving any results.

Matt didn't understand how Y/N woke up with so much energy, while he needed at least 20 minutes to really feel alive.

"Yeah, sure." The brunette mentally shrugged his shoulders. She wouldn't have asked him to do something risky to their lives, so it was okay for him to accept it without knowing what it was. Right?

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N knocked twice on the door of her shared room with Matt, the sound almost imperceptible. She turned the handle and opened it, entering the room slowly.

The sound of loud music escaped the brunette's headphones, which rested against his ears. The boy was sitting in his gaming chair, and his upper body bent slightly forward as his hands worked on the keyboard, probably answering emails sent to the Sturniolo Triplets inbox.

The girl walked with light and quick steps towards her boyfriend, a small smile on her face in excitement. She gently touched his right shoulder, alerting him to her presence.

Matt looked up, his eyes instantly brightening as he noticed Y/N there. His hands pushed the headphone back - leaving it hanging around his neck - while his feet moved on the floor, turning the chair so that he was facing her.

"Babe, it's raining." Y/N quickly said, without even waiting for him to talk.

Matt frowned, his hands moving up to her hips, lightly squeezing the covered area.

"Yeah, I know, honey." He nodded, confused as to why she would be telling him the obvious, the sound of heavy raindrops hitting the windows from outside filled the room.

"Can we dance in the rain? Please, please, please?" Y/N clasped her hands in front of her body in a sign of prayer, pleading with her eyes.

Matt raised his eyebrows, the thought of getting completely wet with the freezing rain made him shiver, his mind already imagining his clothes sticking to his skin.

He sighed, closing his eyes momentarily.

"What I wouldn't do for you?"

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"What do you guys want?" Madi asked as she stood up from her seat at the table on the fast food restaurant, ready to place the triplets' and Y/N's orders besides her own.

Nick quickly said what he wanted without taking his eyes off his phone, choosing the photos that he would put in that Friday's photo dump. Chris mumbled his order, resting his left cheek on his hand - which was supported on the table by his elbow -, his eyes focused on the digital menu on his own phone.

Madi nodded to the two before turning to Matt and Y/N, waiting for them to say what they wanted.

"For me, it's just going to be a cheeseburger and a Diet Coke. And Matt's going to have a double cheeseburger and a root beer." Y/N counted on her fingers as she said each food, watching Madi nod when she finished. "Thank you, Madi." She blew the brunette an air kiss.

Matt pressed his lips to the top of Y/N's head lightly before pulling her to rest the back of her shoulder against his chest.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"No, Chris, I don't want a blueberry donut." Matt rolled his eyes, huffing as he leaned his hips against the table, his arms crossed.

"You're hungry, and it's the only thing we have right now, Matt." Chris rolled his eyes back, exchanging looks with Nate, who smiled, amused by his reaction.

"What happened to you today? Did you wake up with the wrong foot?" Nick asked, his tone full of annoyance, wrinkling his nose.

"Why don't you shut-" Matt's sentence was interrupted by Y/N entering the kitchen, humming a Taylor Swift song under her breath.

"Oh, hi guys! Good morning." Y/N smiled brightly at the four of them, her eyes shining as she met Matt's, approaching him with quick steps - throwing smiles towards Chris, Nick, and Nate as she passed them. "Hi baby." She rose on her tiptoes, sealing his lips in a quick kiss.

A smile automatically grew on Matt's face, his eyes taking on a lovestruck look, all the anger he felt vanishing.

"Did you eat? I didn't see you eating breakfast earlier. You must be hungry." She asked, still facing him, her brow furrowed in concern as her right hand rested lightly on Matt's stomach, stroking the covered skin.

"No, baby. There's nothing interesting here." The boy sighed dramatically, ignoring his brothers' murmurs of disgust.

"We still have blueberry donuts, honey. There are some left over from the video you three made yesterday." Y/N pointed to the counter, where the box of donuts sat next to the stove. "You liked them, right?" She moved slightly away from Matt, reaching out and taking one before handing it to the boy.

Matt instantly smiled, taking the sweet from Y/N's hands with his right one and bringing it to his mouth, biting off a small piece. His left hand rested on Y/N's hip, caressing the area.

"It doesn't even look like he just-" Nick began his sentence, a look of disbelief on his face.

"Thank you, my love." Matt cut Nick off, sending a glare in his direction over Y/N's right shoulder before opening a big smile to her, biting off another piece.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Hi, good afternoon! How are you?" Y/N greeted the McDonald's attendant, a big smile lighting up her face, as her eyes went to the board where the menu was displayed, mentally confirming what she was going to order.

The attendant smiled back quickly, her heart warming at finally being able to have a kind costumer who wasn't in a bad mood.

"Good afternoon! I'm great, thank you." She nodded momentarily, placing her fingers on the computer screen, ready to select the order. "What can I do for you today?" Her eyes went from Y/N to Matt, who was standing behind the girl.

His hands rested in the front pocket of the hoodie that covered his upper body, while an awkward smile spread across his face, nodding briefly.

Y/N started ordering calmly, including Chris and Nick's orders that she had already memorized - even though they both said they didn't want anything, she knew that Nick would end up biting a peace of her burger and Chris would steal Matt's fries -, giving the attendant time to select everything without rushing.

"Is that all for today?"

"Yes, that's all." Y/N confirmed, taking Matt's wallet out of her purse and taking out her card, quickly paying for the order. "Thank you so much. Have a nice day!"

Matt quickly mumbled a "thank you" before intertwining his fingers with Y/N's, allowing her to pull him toward a table.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Yes, they were polar opposites, but Matt and Y/N showed every day that opposites really do attract each other.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper

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dotchannie · 2 months

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- 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 :: c.bc x reader (MDNI)

synopsis : Christopher Bang Chan has some less than pleasant views about his own appearance, tears welling over his lashline when you enter his personal space and give him some much needed skin contact.

a/n : this is a fic from my previous blog @/binniesbang that has been reworked so i could repost here, i hope you guys enjoy ! warnings below the cut <;33

wc : 746

Warnings: Pet-names, insecurity and self esteem issues, mentions of scaring(not specified), nipple play, Channie’s mental state is implied to be unsteady.

“Chan? You okay?” you ask while rapping your knuckles against the bathroom door. He arrived home around forty minutes ago and hasn’t offered you anything other than a gruff rumble of acknowledgement when you welcomed him home.

“Channie? Sweetheart can I come in?” Again, he’s silent but you take his lack of response as neither a protest nor a warm reception and gently click the door open—greeted on the other side by a sight that makes your heart drop to the pits of your stomach.

Your boyfriends stood in-front of the bathroom mirror with his shirt off, scowling at his own reflection as though it’s mocking him— eye brows pulled so tight you can barely figure out where exactly his focus is drawn too.

Observing him, you watch as careful hands trace across old scars gained in his younger years—noticing as he pauses above faint little marks that are barely visible, unnoticeable to anyone who doesn’t have the privilege of seeing him in this nature.

The same hands begin to move up towards his biceps, fingers gliding back and forth across the stretch marks developed in the early years of his adulthood. Proof his body has bulked up over the years.

Eventually he notices you in the mirror, wet eyes and shaky hands— tips gently caressing at minor imperfections in his skin.

Chans eyes are usually so bright, full of life but right now? Right now, they’re too tired to offer you anything but a single tear as his emotions begin to get the best of him, forcing their way to the surface— voice a small unsteady whisper when he speaks.

“What do you see in me?”

Immediately you cross the room and press yourself against his back, raising your arms so you can hook them over the fronts of his shoulders and steady his form— anchoring his body to your own.

His chest is rattling with the effort it takes to keep his breath even, you own tears slicking the skin on his nape— words of encouragement lodged in the depths of your throat.

You don’t trust your voice to stay smooth, the risk of making him feel like an inconvenience tainting your ability to speak, no matter how untrue. So you drop your forehead to the space between his shoulder blades and let your hands offer him comfort.

It takes a moment, but Chan begins to calm and utters a request you weren’t expecting in the midst of a vulnerable moment.

“Can you take your shirt off?”.

It’s no secret chan thrives on skin to skin contact and so you oblige, slowly unbuttoning your shirt before returning to your previous spot behind him.

“What do you need baby?,how can I he-“, he cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence.

“Just touch me. Please.”

keeping your hands soft, you begin perusing the dips and curves of his torso, wanting him to feel what you can’t bring yourself to tell him right now— one hand kept low, resting just below his belly button, fingertips idly dragging in circles through the small trail of hairs decorating his lower stomach.

The other one however, is traveling towards a spot you know makes him weak in the knees and just as expected his breath hitches— buckling when he feels your cold thumb rub across his nipple.

You can no longer tell if he’s breathing deep because of the tears or the stimulation, maybe it’s a mix of both but a gasped “More, I need more” from him is the go ahead you need to dip your hand lower into his waistband.

Chans mental state is in no place to take anything other than the slow steady pace you keep on him- a flick against his chest, lips placed to the pulse below his ear and he’s done for.

The whine he involuntarily releases is the only positive noise you’ve heard from him in the past hour or so, head lifting to meet your eyes in the mirror as his senses shift into overdrive all over again and he has no hope of stopping the fat tears from spilling over his lashline.

“It’s okay pretty boy let it go, you’re okay. So pretty when you cry”.

You’re watching him in the mirror as his head falls back against your shoulder, accidentally thumping into yours in the process and heaving one last deep breath as he hits his peak.

“You still wanna know what I see in you?”

𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 !

#bang chan #stray kids #bang chan x reader #bang chan x reader smut #chan x reader #chan x reader smut #bang chan smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids x reader smut #skz #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x reader smut

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highvern · 6 months

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Lucky Me

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem reader

Genre: idiots in love, fluff, established relationship

Warnings: sickening sweet tooth rotting fluff, kissing, tears, brief mention of illness, in this lore Seungchoel is a married man and off the proverbial streets

Length: ~1.4k

Note: Drunk Goggles couple's first L-word! post Discovery by like a few weeks lmao. I'm actually crying in the club bc Mingyu is my ENXJ kindred spirit so i wrote this in the most self serving way possible lol

read more here

“Can’t believe you’re not picking up your phone right now. Really selfish of you. What if I was dying in the street and you didn’t know because you ignored my call? What then, huh? Your poor boyfriend just wants to talk to you but I guess you hate me now.”

You chuckle at the sound of your Mingyu’s scolding. Always one for dramatics, that one. Toweling off your hair, you move to tidy the discarded packaging from the decorations you spent hanging all afternoon. Mingyu’s voicemail plays through the speaker of your phone on the counter as you work to clean up before people start arriving.

“Anyways! I picked up the cake for the party tonight, and some more snacks and beer just in case. The lady at the bakery said the cake took her all morning because the picture I sent of Jihyo kept making her laugh. Hate to say it but I think you have some competition. I can already see us getting married and being her sugar baby.”

Everytime an old lady even compliments Mingyu he tells you to watch your back because they want to steal him from you. Your eyes roll at his comments but they humor you nonetheless.

“She’s nowhere near as pretty as you though, so she's gonna need to step up her game. Alright, I’m gonna stop at my place to shower and grab some clothes and then I’ll head your way. Text me if I need to get anything else on my way, okay? Love you, bye!”

You freeze, plastic bags and towel dropping to the floor with a wet thud.

“Shit.”

You hear his faint curse through the speaker as the voicemail ends.

Heart squeezing as you replay his words over and over, you plop down on your butt to the hard wooden floor. Love you, bye! Love you, love you, love…

He loves me.

Oh boy.

The new information is magical, twisting your insides in knots as you think of all the times you’ve wanted to say those very words you’ve buried in your chest over and over. The times he makes you laugh so hard you think you might pee your pants, his own giggles pulling him to the ground; when he cleaned out space in his dresser for your stuff, buying duplicates of your toiletries so you could come over whenever you wanted and feel at home; when your car broke down on the side of the road and he came to pick you up, racing across town in the dark of night to get you; when Wonwoo told you he’d never seen Mingyu so happy since you’d started dating; the time he cried when Seungcheol recited his vows to his now wife; how he always pulls a extra mug out of the cabinet when he makes his morning coffee, leaving it next to the machine with a sweet note for when you get up.

I love him.

Oh boy, indeed.

Standing, you grab your phone from the counter. Mingyu called almost an hour ago meaning he will be at your apartment any second. You use the few minutes you have left to calm your breathing, praying your hands stop shaking and the blush you feel dissipates as you open the freezer and pludge your face into the cold air.

A clunky knock at the door startles you. Sprinting to unlock it, you nearly fly face first into the door knob in your haste.

On the other side is your boyfriend, thick waves of stress palpable as they roll off his body. Mingyu’s hands are full with groceries so you snag the cake, planting a quick kiss on his chin in greeting.

“Hi,” he mumbles, fear evident on his face.

“Hi!” You beam, dazzling smile thrown over your shoulder as you walk back toward the kitchen.

“Ugh, did you get my message?”

Mingyu pauses to kick off his shoes by the door, nervousness firing through every fiber of his being. He meant what he said on the phone, but you've only been dating for a few months and he doesn’t want to mess anything up by being over eager. Correction: he can’t mess this up; he’s certain the heartbreak would kill him.

Mingyu prides himself on all the times he’s reigned in those three little words from slipping past his lips. Whenever he’s drunk and sees you smile, whenever he’s sober and sees you smile; when you cried about your shitty boss; when he cried at Seungcheol’s wedding, imagination running rampent; every morning when he wakes up next to you and every night before falling asleep in the same place; when you took care of him when he had the flu a few weeks ago; the first time he saw the new toothbrush you bought him to keep at your place, sitting in the cup on bathroom sink right next to yours. The list is endless.

He can’t help that he’s built to love so deeply; his friends, his family, all of the important people in his life have their own space carved in his heart including you. Even before you started dating he cared for you. Your name has been branded in his chest since day one and inferno has only grown as his fondness expands with each moment.

“Yeah, I did. Sorry I missed your call, I was in the shower.”

“It's okay! I just know you like to be kept updated.”

After placing Jihyo’s birthday cake safely in the fridge, you turn to face your boyfriend. He looks like he might actually throw up, hands shaking as he unpacks the bags he’s brought in and eyes refusing to look in your direction. You can tell Mingyu is watching you out of his peripheral, waiting for you to comment on his confession with bated breath.

You stride around the kitchen island to stand next to him, helping sort the different treats he bought in silence. The juxtaposition between you two is almost laughable. You’re all shy smiles and flushed cheeks, unable to control the wild thump of your heart; while Mingyu looks like he might sprint out the door and into traffic at the drop of a hat.

Once all the bags are discarded, food lining the counter to be prepped, you turn to rest your back against the edge of the cool marble, your soft gaze focuses on his face. Arms crossing in front of you, you watch as he pretends to be busy to avoid meeting your eyes.

“I love you too.” You confess shyly, sides of your mouth quirking upwards.

Mingyu’s head shoots up so fast you’re afraid he might give himself whiplash. All you can do is smile demurely, embarrassed by the way he stares at you with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“Really?”

Biting your lip to control the grin attempting to split your face in half, you nod gently.

Next thing you know you’re consumed in a tight embrace, squashed into his chest as he squeezes you so hard you might explode. The smell of his cologne and laundry detergent waft of his shirt, soothing your own nerves as you relax in his hold. You can hear his heart racing in his chest, thundering below your ear; your own echoing in response.

“Say it again.” Mingyu sighs into your hair.

You can’t help but laugh.

“I love you.”

“Oh my god.” He gasps.

“Say it back.” you pout, chin digging into his pec as you peer up at him.

For a second, all Mingyu can do is stare at you, face soft with emotion, eyes cataloging your features. In his wildest dreams, he never thought he’d be fortunate enough to feel this way about another person. How lucky is he that the person he loves loves him too?

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He says, hands moving to cup your face as he emphasizes a different word with each repetition, tip of his nose rubbing against the side of your own.

“Baby, are you crying?”

“I can’t help it! I love you! And you love me!” He wails, pushing his face into your cheek. “I think I’m gonna faint.”

“Aww, Gyu!” You coo, turning your head to kiss away his tears as they fall.

Mingyu catches your lips with his, needing to show you how much he cares for you rather than just tell you.

But one more time doesn’t hurt.

“I love you.”

#svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #svthub #kim mingyu #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #🫡 highvern #svt #dghe couple #svt smut #svt fluff #mingyu fluff #kim mingyu fluff

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tainsan · 9 months

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misfits VI

⇥ pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader

⇥ warnings: nightmares, mentions of suicide, death, anxiety attacks, and violent language.

⇥ word count: 7.4k

⇥ a/n: I got back from vacation so I am very excited to release this chapter! thank you to all of you who have waited patiently for this one <3 I must say that in this chapter there are some very triggering moments, so please read at your own risk. your mental health is more important, please stay safe.

⇢ masterlist ⇠

previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter...

for my love @l0vetiny

--- THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT---

Wandering through the dimly lit and eerily quiet hallway, a shiver runs down your spine, goosebumps prickling on your skin. The air feels heavy with memories, and the flickering lights cast eerie shadows on the walls, heightening the sense of unease that settles deep within you.

Continuing forward, the surroundings seem to shift and morph before your eyes. The hallway transforms, becoming all too familiar. The walls close in, and the once-empty space becomes filled with echoes of laughter, tears, and whispers from the past. It's as if the memories have taken on a tangible form, enveloping you in their grip.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you struggle to make sense of the chaotic rush of emotions flooding your mind. The fragments of memories flash before your eyes, disjointed and broken, yet each one carries a weight that tugs at your soul. Images and sensations from the past come rushing back, haunting you with their vividness and intensity. You need to get out of here, now.

The hallway itself becomes a portal to the past, transporting you back to the house that holds both cherished moments and haunting secrets. The familiar decor, the creaking floorboards, the scent of recognizable perfume lingering in the air; all of it contributes to the overwhelming flood of emotions that threaten to destroy you.

Fear grips you, urging you to flee, to escape the clutches of this haunting place. Every fibre of your being screams at you to turn back, to run as fast as you can, and leave this darkness behind. But despite your desperate attempts to resist, your body seems to move of its own accord, almost as if it's being drawn deeper into the depths of the memories that refuse to be forgotten. The journey through this haunting corridor forces you to confront the ghosts of your past, to face the demons that have haunted you for years.

‘Stop, what are you doing’ Your protests fade away as you persist to walk more into the house, you recognise your steps and when you reach a certain door, your heart stops, your entire body going ice cold as you realise, you’re not here, you’re just reliving a memory. A memory you’ve been desperately running from for years.

Every nerve in your being ignites with fear, your body on fire as you desperately try to turn away. The overwhelming surge of emotions becomes unbearable, your eyes stinging and your heart racing. Trembling and filled with panic, you long to escape the haunting corridor that threatens to eat you alive. The weight of the moment hangs heavy, as you gather your strength and resolve to confront the darkness.

Watching as your hand reaches for the handle to the wooden door, you feel your entire body shaking as you still shriek in your mind to take you out of this nightmare. You pray, to anyone and anything that you will be torn away from this horrific place.

As the door creaks open, a suffocating wave of devastation washes over you, threatening to shatter the fragile pieces of your already broken soul. The sight that greets your eyes is agonizing. The lifeless body, once vibrant and full of life, now splayed across the cold, unforgiving floor. The weight of grief settles heavily upon your chest, constricting your breath and causing your heart to ache with searing pain. The scene is scattered by empty medicine capsules spread across the dark wood surface, silent witnesses to the desperation that consumed your mother's final moments. Every inch of your being yearns to rush towards her, to reach out and somehow reverse the irreversible, but an invisible force keeps you rooted in place, a helpless spectator to this heart-wrenching tragedy.

Time seems to warp and bend as you remain frozen, trapped in the nightmare that plays out before your eyes. The desire to touch her, to hold her once more, is an unbearable ache coursing through your veins. But before your trembling fingers can graze her lifeless form, the cruel grip of reality tears you away from the harrowing scene, your anguished scream echoing through the air, a desperate plea to escape the horrors that haunt your waking moments.

Your body jolts upright, propelled by an overwhelming surge of adrenaline. Gasping for air, each breath feels jagged and strained, a desperate attempt to fill your lungs with oxygen. The taste of salt lingers on your lips as hot tears stream down your cheeks, tracing a path of agony. Your entire being quivers with a raw intensity, as if electricity courses through your veins, setting your nerves ablaze. The need for escape overwhelms you, urging you to flee the confines of your bedroom. Hastily, you propel yourself forward, your steps hurried and unsteady, driven by a desperate desire for fresh air. The world blurs around you as your feet propel you towards the door, craving the relief that lies beyond it.

Disregarding your appearance, clothed in nothing but your sleeping shorts and an oversized t-shirt, you stumble through the house in a frantic haze. The urgency to escape grips you aggressively, destroying any concern for disturbing your roommates in your wake. Each footstep is irregular, pushed by an overwhelming need to escape from the suffocating hold of your mind.

The memory hooks into your brain, a relentless torment that attempts to consume you once more. Despite your relentless efforts to suppress it, the nightmare persists, resurfacing with a haunting insistence. Weeks, months, and years of painstakingly building a fortress of forgetfulness crumble before your eyes. The memory's grip tightens, triggering a heavy downpour of emotions, drowning your fragile stability.

Your legs tremble beneath you, weakened by the weight of the anguish you bear. Progress towards the door is a gruelling endeavour, each step a battle against the trembling weakness that permeates your being. But before you can reach the refuge of the exit, your body resists, collapsing onto the floor of the hallway. Your tears constantly flow, soaking your trembling hands as your shattered being struggles to comprehend the crushing wave of emotions that consume you. Time becomes distorted, seconds stretching into agonizing hours as you surrender to the merciless grip of your despair.

In a state of panic, your senses spin and blur, disorienting your vision as you struggle to fixate on the door just a few meters away. Yet, the world seems to be against you, distorting and contorting, morphing the once familiar threshold into an obscure target that mocks your desperate reach. The room, once spacious, now closes in around you, suffocating you in its overwhelming grip.

Desperation grips your throat, and you gather every ounce of strength to scream for help, to summon anyone who might ease your torment. But the sound that emerges is weak, a mere particle of a whisper lost in the turbulent commotion of your mind.

As the world blurs and fades, your senses dulled by the overwhelming surge of anxiety, you remain oblivious to the sudden presence at your side. It is only when strong arms envelop your trembling frame, engulfing you in a secure embrace, that you become aware of another person by your side.

The comforting presence guides you gently, repositioning your body between their legs, offering a supportive cradle. Your cheek finds solace against their chest, feeling the steady rhythm of their heartbeat against your skin. They begin to rub your back in soothing motions, tracing slow circles that provide a sense of grounding and reassurance. The legs of the protective figure form a defensive barrier around you, providing a sense of safety amid the mayhem. It is here when you can smell a vaguely familiar scent, and you cannot quite discern where you have smelt it before. It is when the figure's voice reaches your ears, and at that moment, the familiarity of the scent that fills the air clicks into place. It is the same scent that lingers on your sheets, the scent that belongs to their owner. The realization floods your senses, connecting the dots between the fragrance and the person residing near you.

“___? It’s Mingi,” the man speaks, with genuine concern etched across his face. Mingi, who is holding you tight desperately tries to redirect your focus, his intent gaze fixated on your trembling form. Mingi tries to grasp your attention, hoping to draw you away from the whirlwind of thoughts that torment your mind. In a voice laced with both urgency and tenderness, he calls out to you once more, his words filled with a mix of anxiety and aching compassion. The sound of his voice cuts through the haze that clouds your senses, breaking through the chaos and reaching for the fragile connection within you. Yet, your breaths remain erratic and unsteady, leaving their heartfelt call unanswered.

“___, listen to me, you’re okay. You are safe, come back to me. You’re safe.”

He notices your shaking slows down and he realises he’s found a small part of you holding on. Gently placing a hand on your cheek that isn’t facing him, he pulls you further into his chest, resting your ear over his heart.

“Listen to my heart, just focus on the sound, okay? You’re doing so well.” The beat of his steady heart reaches your ears and your entire being grasps the sound, the calming rhythm helping still the rising storm swirling inside of you.

Mingi's arms envelop your trembling frame, providing a secure embrace that anchors you during the cyclone of emotions. He holds you tenderly, swaying gently back and forth as if trying to lull away the distress that weighs heavily on you. Amidst the madness of your inner instability, you suddenly become aware of a soft melody coming from Mingi's lips. The song is unfamiliar, yet its delicate notes and the resonance of his baritone voice manage to soothe your soul. The vibrations of his singing gently slice through the tight knots of anxiety constricting your throat, gradually easing their grip on you. Time seems to blur as the minutes tick by, the sound of his voice providing a lifeline of stability. As the minutes stretch into what feels like hours, you gradually regain control of your breath, your inhales and exhales finding a steadier rhythm.

Though your tears still prick at your eyes, slipping down your cheeks occasionally, the storm within you begins to subside, leaving behind a lingering sense of vulnerability. Mingi remains devoted to your side, his comforting presence offering a glimmer of hope in the aftermath of the emotional tempest.

As the weight of your sorrow begins to ease, you can physically feel Mingi's body relaxing against yours, his tense muscles gradually unwinding like a tightly coiled spring. It's as if his form moulds effortlessly to fit against your side, providing a comforting embrace that shields you from your feelings raging within.

The warmth of Mingi's breath, steady and soothing, gently caresses the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in its wake. Each deliberate inhale and exhale serves as a grounding rhythm, anchoring him in the present moment.

As you begin to stir, indicating your readiness to move, a subtle shift in Mingi's demeanour becomes evident. His heightened awareness brings him to become conscious of the intimate position the two of you find yourselves in. With utmost caution and respect, he lifts his head ever so slowly, ensuring no sudden movements that could potentially trigger any lingering distress within you. While he subtly withdraws from the immediate proximity, his arm remains lightly draped around your waist, offering a gentle source of reassurance and support.

Turning your head at a slow pace, your gaze aligns with Mingi's, and in that fleeting moment, a pang of guilt tugs at your heart. The weight of your emotions mingles with the realization that he has been a steadfast presence throughout, a pillar of strength and compassion, offering unwavering support and comfort in your most vulnerable moments. The gratitude you feel is profound, yet so too is the underlying concern that you may be burdening him with your troubles.

“I’m so sorry Mingi, did I wake you up?” You look away from him, your body starting to shake with faint embarrassment. Noticing how fragile your emotions are right now, he is quick to comfort you and put your mind at ease.

“You didn’t don’t worry; I was in the living room when I thought I heard a scream,” Mingi responds, his hand unconsciously moving up and down your back again.

“What are you doing up so late?” You ask, confused as to why any of the boys would be awake this late. It must be past three or four in the morning.

“I got a burst of creativity, it’s hard to sleep if I don’t get it all out.” Mingi looks down, looking somewhat flustered. Looking up, he sees the confusion covering your features. “I was writing some kind of song thing.”

Your eyes widen as you realise what he meant, and you become ever so curious about his creativity.

“I didn’t know you wrote songs,” your voice is soft yet the glimpse of admiration in your tone is picked up by Mingi and he can’t help but smile and feel the heat rise to his cheeks.

“It’s kind of what I’m studying, writing songs is my thing,” Mingi grins as he teases you slightly for not knowing his major.

“Really? Maybe I should actually get to know you guys better,” You mumble to yourself wiping away your stray tears, once again not knowing something that is common knowledge to everyone.

“What has you so shaken up?” Mingi’s voice is so soft you wouldn’t have heard him if he wasn’t right next to you.

Mingi observes your reluctance to discuss the terrifying nightmare that just unfolded, and he instinctively knows that pushing you to open up would do more harm than good. Understanding the rawness of the images still haunting your mind, he respects your need for time and space. As your body continues to tremble with residual fear, Mingi quietly rises to his feet, bringing you up with him, his arm securely wrapped around your waist. He can feel your unsteady steps, and a protective instinct kicks in. Pausing for a moment, he contemplates the best course of action, realizing that ensuring your safety and comfort is his top priority.

“I am going to lift you to your room, is that okay?” Mingi questions, his eyes not leaving yours.

As the realization dawns upon you that Mingi's intention is solely to offer his support and assistance, your initial hesitation begins to dissipate. Blushing with a mix of gratitude and self-consciousness, you understand that your vulnerability at this moment demands you to accept his help. Although the idea of relying on someone else makes you slightly uncomfortable, you recognize that your current state leaves you incapable of aiding yourself.

Suppressing your embarrassment, you offer Mingi a shy nod, silently conveying your permission for him to assist you further. Mingi bends down to snake one of his arms under your legs and one around your back. Lifting your body into bridal style, Mingi holds you close to his chest, almost cradling your limp body. As Mingi supports you in his arms, a surge of emotions sweeps through him, overwhelming his senses. The weight of your body against his chest creates an intimate connection that he has longed for but never imagined would happen under these circumstances. He feels a sense of bliss as if time has momentarily paused to grant him this precious moment. The touch of your skin against his, the rise and fall of your breath against his chest, all serve as a bittersweet reminder of the vulnerability and trust you have placed in him.

His grip tightens ever so slightly, instinctively wanting to shield you from any harm or discomfort that may still linger within your fragile state. Mingi's heart swells with a mix of tenderness and protectiveness, a deep sense of responsibility to provide comfort and reassurance.

Resting your head against Mingi’s broad shoulder, you close your eyes, recognising the route of the man heading towards your room. Luckily, during your expedition to leave the house, you left the door of your bedroom open slightly, allowing Mingi to easily push it open with his back and walk towards your dishevelled bed. It is here where Mingi realises you must have had a nightmare; a soft concern lingers in his eyes. He knows that words alone may not be enough to ease the lingering distress from your nightmare. Although he knows not to pry, he wishes you would tell him the details of your bad dream, so he can offer support in the knowledge that you are safe in his presence and that of his brothers.

With a soft smile, Mingi pauses in his steps, his hand resting on the doorknob. He turns around, his eyes meeting yours, and he immediately understands your silent plea.

“Don’t worry, love, I’ll be right back. Give me a second.” Mingi reassures you before leaving out the door at a fast pace. If you weren’t so shaken up and exhausted the nickname would have processed in your mind completely differently to how it does at this moment.

It takes about twenty seconds for Mingi to return to your bedroom, this time in his hand he has his phone and a pair of wired headphones. You aren’t able to do anything but lay tucked in your sheets, you result to just watching him as he comes closer to the edge of your bed.

Without hesitation, he moves back towards your bed, taking a seat on the floor, in front of you. He reaches out and gently brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch tender and comforting. Mingi's presence alone brings a sense of security, and you feel a wave of relief wash over you. You're grateful for his understanding and willingness to provide the comfort you so desperately need at this moment.

Mingi looks up at you and smiles warmly, causing the sharp edge of your nerves to soften. With his face only a few inches away from yours, your heartbeat increases but this time it’s not due to a damaging emotion. Resting his hand on your head, he tenderly strokes your unkempt hair from your face before retracting and placing it back on his lap, much to your dismay.

“Would you like to hear one of my projects?” Mingi’s voice is barely above a whisper.

Exhausted and unable to muster coherent words, you offer a nod, signalling your readiness to delve into the unknown world of Mingi's music. A smile dances across his face as he places one headphone in your ear and the other in his, creating a shared soundscape that bridges the gap between you. With anticipation, you watch as Mingi skilfully navigates his playlist, his fingers gliding over the screen in search of the perfect track.

Untitled songs and cryptic titles catch your eye, piquing your curiosity about the untold stories behind them. As he presses play, a gentle beat emanates from the earphone, gradually filling the space around you. The strumming of a guitar resonates through the air, accompanied by an evolving symphony of instruments, and sounds that seamlessly intertwine. Mingi's deep voice emerges, rapping softly with a tone and tempo that seems tailor-made for your ears. It's a mesmerizing blend that tickles a part of your brain. The lyrics, though tinged with sorrow, embrace your spirit, offering a comforting hold that lets you know you are heard and seen.

As the music envelopes you, the weight of exhaustion appears, causing your eyelids to grow heavy. Your body surrenders to the soothing soundscape, and relaxation invades every inch of your being. Drifting into a peaceful slumber, you feel a sense of serenity wash over you. Just as you slip into the realm of dreams, a familiar resonance catches your ear, triggering goosebumps that ripple across your skin.

A particular lyric rises from the music, echoing deeply within you. Its significance is palpable, evoking emotions that are difficult to put into words. In this ethereal moment, the power of music intertwines with your being, leaving an indelible mark on your soul.

‘Passion, young, fever.’

There’s no way you heard that right. Right?

---

Excitement bubbles within you as you make your way towards the kitchen, fully expecting to find Hongjoong waiting for you there. Several days ago, he had kindly offered to accompany you to the bustling department store in the city, assisting you in finding new items to decorate your room with. It is a leisurely Saturday, devoid of any pressing lessons or assignments, you relish in the prospect of a full day dedicated to exploring and shopping. Your intentions extend beyond room decor, as you've also set your sights on replenishing your wardrobe. The few outfits you currently possess, remnants of what survived the fire, have become repetitive and mundane. You feel it's time for a refreshing upgrade. Originally, you had planned to limit your purchases to decorative items and undergarments, the latter of which you're determined to buy discreetly, without Hongjoong's presence. If necessary, you'll insist that he waits outside the store, ensuring your privacy.

The unexpected windfall of funds, received as compensation from your previous landlords for the damages incurred during the fire, has granted you a sense of financial freedom. The amount exceeded your initial expectations, as you had prepared yourself for the daunting task of covering expenses such as finding a new place to live, purchasing furniture, and replacing schoolbooks. Fortunately, the boys had already taken care of these necessities, ensuring a smooth transition when you moved in with them.

As you enter the kitchen, you find Hongjoong seated at the table, engaged in conversation with Jongho and Mingi, the latter with his back turned towards you. Instantly, memories from the previous week flood your mind, causing a sudden wave of flustered emotions. You feel unsure about how to approach and express gratitude to Mingi for his assistance during your anxiety attack. Ignoring the situation is not an option, as it would be unfair to dismiss his support. However, you hesitate, dreading the possibility of him inquiring about the cause of your distress, as it would require delving into your deep history of trauma.

Upon waking up that morning, you noticed Mingi's absence, briefly wondering if the entire incident had been a vivid dream. The sight of a slightly dishevelled pillow on the floor, evidence of someone's presence, reassures you that it did happen. You hope Mingi didn't spend too much time awake, as you also wished for him to get some rest. Another lingering thought occupying your mind is the song Mingi played for you a few days ago. Although it sounded unfamiliar, there was an uncanny familiarity in the lyrics that troubled you. You briefly entertained a theory of where you might have heard it before, but the thought swiftly slipped away, dismissed as a mere coincidence that didn't quite add up, it could not be them.

Since then, you've intentionally started leaving the house earlier, trying to avoid Mingi's presence, only interacting with him during dinner time. He is well aware of your embarrassment, yet it doesn't diminish his disappointment at the fact that you've been actively avoiding him.

As you draw nearer to the kitchen, you realize that the conversation among the three men is unusually deep, and intense. Hongjoong's furrowed brow and hushed tone suggest a level of seriousness they wish to keep private. Not wanting to interrupt their discussion, you take a step back, planning to return in a few minutes. Despite their efforts to keep their voices low, you manage to catch snippets of their conversation, and the few words you hear leave you slightly alarmed.

“I don’t think she needs to know so soon,” Jongho says.

You halt in your tracks, confused. Are they talking about you?

“I think she does, I can’t hide it from her much longer.” Mingi’s deep voice is recognisable.

“When should we ask her…”

“It just depends on the timing okay; we will let her know the proposition when necessary.”

Reluctant to continue eavesdropping, you scold yourself for unintentionally intruding on their private conversation. A wave of guilt washes over you, as you recognize that listening in on their discussion is unfair to their trust. However, curiosity chews at you, urging you to find out what they could be talking about. If the conversation revolves around you, what proposition or topic could they be considering? Should you step out from behind the corner and confront them? You know it would be the right thing to do, respecting their privacy, but an inexplicable force seems to hold you back, trapping you in your position. The desire to satisfy your curiosity becomes overwhelming, rendering you unable to move or tear yourself away from their secretive conversation.

“Why are you standing here?” A voice sounds from behind you, startling you immensely. Letting out a sound of surprise, you quickly cover your mouth in hopes that the three men at the kitchen island didn’t hear you.

As you turn around, your eyes lock on Seonghwa, leaning casually against the doorframe of his bedroom. A mischievous grin adorns his face, and you can't help but be captivated by his presence. Dressed in simple, yet stylish, black jeans and an oversized grey sweater, he exudes an effortless charm that makes it difficult to divert your gaze. Your eyes wander up and down his figure, unable to resist the appeal he radiates. A surge of pride fills Seonghwa's chest as he observes your admiration. He takes confident strides towards you, closing the distance until he stands a mere foot away. Bending down to meet your eye level, his face hovers just inches from yours. Your mind races, urging your body to create some distance, but you find yourself rooted in place, unable to budge as his magnetic presence envelops you.

“Like what you see?” He questions, your heart almost jumping out of your chest.

You are surprised at his flirtatious behaviour, not quite used to it coming from Seonghwa. Only having seen him as a gentle sweetheart, seeing him act so flirty makes your heart pound dreadfully fast.

Finally, you can convince your body to move away from Seonghwa’s hard stare and into the kitchen where you almost forget the three other men. You expected to see Jongho after seeing him every morning on the island, munching on the same food as usual.

“Hey, ___, You’re up early. Are you okay?” Jongho questions, wondering why you seem so shaken up and flustered. Hoping it wasn’t due to you potentially listening into the conversation between him and his friends. When he sees Seonghwa trailing behind your tense body, a smug grin covering his face, he thinks he understands why it is you’re so frazzled.

You manage to nod at him slightly, throwing a nervous smile in his direction before heading to the fridge to grab something small to eat before your day starts.

Behind you, Jongho sends a confused look in Seonghwa’s direction, causing the older man to just shrug amusedly as he makes his way to the coffee machine at the counter.

Balancing your bowl of leftover fruit salad in one hand, you make your way towards the spacious kitchen island. The morning light spills in through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. As you approach, you grab a fork from a nearby drawer, your familiarity with the kitchen growing with each passing day. Though you've become well-acquainted with the location of most utensils, there are still a few items that escape your memory, like the damn blender. You can't help but recall the comical scene from yesterday when you frantically searched through every cupboard in a desperate quest to find the blender. Jongho, finding amusement in your difficulty, watched with an entertained grin as you scoured the kitchen. Finally locating the appliance, you playfully shot him a glare, feigning annoyance at his refusal to help in your blender-seeking escapade.

Settling into the seat next to Mingi, you steal a glance at him, feeling a mixture of relief and guilt wash over you. His broad figure turns towards you, his lips curving into a genuine, warm smile. The sight tugs at your heartstrings. You can't help but feel apologetic for avoiding him in the past few days, but seeing his forgiving expression reassures you that he doesn't harbour any ill feelings towards you.

“How did you sleep?” Mingi asks, his voice soft and tender, his smile contagious.

“I slept pretty well,” you process the next words in your head, not sure how to say them, “Thank you Mingi.” You reply, your voice full of gratitude, the smile on Mingi’s face turns thankful as he understands the undertone of your words, knowing you weren’t just thanking him for asking how you slept, but for the help, he gave you not too long ago. Heart filling with happiness, he decides to just smile warmly at you, hoping his unsaid words speak from his expression.

Hongjoong's perceptive gaze shifts back and forth between the two of you, and he can sense the unspoken connection woven within the shared silence. A knowing smile graces his lips, recognizing the softness and affection in your eyes as they rest upon Mingi. At that moment, he envisions a future where you would gaze at him with the same tender expression, his heart warming at the mere possibility.

“What are your plans today?” Jongho’s voice breaks apart the silence, his question not specifically pointed towards anyone, yet wanting your answer the most.

“Hongjoong and I are going to the furniture store and then the shopping mall, right?” You look towards Hongjoong, silently asking him to confirm your statement.

Hongjoong nods gently at you, before taking a sip of the coffee in front of him. Smiling, you look back at Jongho and reciprocate the question, curious as to what the notorious members of Ateez get up to during the weekend.

“I’ve got some errands to run, then San and I are going to this cat café in the city,” Jongho replies, his answer shocking you. Definitely not expecting such activity from such tough presenting guys.

Seonghwa sees the shocked look on your face and lets out a small laugh before speaking, “They’ve been wanting a pet cat for ages, but Hongjoong’s mom just won’t allow it, so this is the closest they can get to having one.”

Amidst the shared laughter, you find yourself joining in as Jongho pulls off the most adorable pouty expression. The infectious joy fills the room, and even Hongjoong and Mingi can't help but chuckle at the sight. Jongho playfully directs a mocking glare towards Hongjoong, as if blaming him for the fact that he can't have a pet cat, adding a touch of playful banter to the light-hearted moment.

“Hey, don’t blame me, blame yourselves. My mom hasn’t been able to take you guys seriously after Wooyoung and San brought a raccoon home and said it was the new housemate.” Hongjoong states as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. Your mind races with a mix of shock and amusement as you try to wrap your head around the idea of them abducting a raccoon. It's a scenario that never even crossed your wildest imagination. It sparks a flow of thoughts, making you wonder about all the bizarre and hilarious situations that may have unfolded within the walls of this house. The thought of their antics and misadventures brings a smile to your face, imagining the unconventional and unpredictable moments that have likely taken place in this house.

“It was one time.” San appears from the entrance nearest to the staircase, a pout on his face.

“One time too many, I found the damn raccoon under my bed one time, I thought it was a fucking monster coming to get me,” Seonghwa adds to the conversation, causing laughter to erupt around the room.

“We are not getting a cat, San, I’m sorry,” Hongjoong states, sending an apologetic look in his direction. San crosses his arms, a pout still on his face, causing him to look awfully like a toddler being told they can’t have more candy.

“It’s okay, we have a cute kitty right here,” Jongho says smirking slightly, looking in your direction. The meaning behind his words causes a violent blush to creep up your neck, your entire body heating up.

Mingi's deep chuckle resonates in the air as he playfully pats your head, his gentle touch providing reassurance that the comment was simply a tease. However, a lingering feeling remains, suggesting that Mingi might be in on the playful banter as well. It's a strange but intriguing sensation to be flirted with by someone other than Wooyoung, and you can't help but feel a slight flutter in your heart. At the same time, the thought of all eight of them showering you with attention feels overwhelming. Your heart ponders how it would handle such affection from each of them, unsure if it could bear the weight of their collective charm.

“Okay guys, chill out,” Seonghwa speaks out laughing gently, noticing the flustered look on your features, realising the attention is making you feel slightly anxious. Nodding gently at Seonghwa as a means to thank him, he smiles lightly at you.

A symphony of hurried footsteps echoes through the house, originating from the upper floor and cascading down the staircase. As you turn your gaze towards the source of the commotion, you're met with a heartwarming sight. The three missing individuals, who had been absent from the kitchen until now, have finally made their appearance. It dawns on you that this is a rare occurrence, as it has been quite some time since everyone has been gathered in the kitchen at such an early hour.

“Joong, what did you want to talk about?” Yeosang asks as he walks into the room, not noticing you sitting at the island.

“Oh, it was nothing, forget it,” Hongjoong says, desperately attempting to keep the suspicion low, knowing Yeosang doesn’t see you sitting next to Mingi.

“It sounded pretty urgent,” Wooyoung states, following after Yeosang, yet he suddenly understands the situation when he sees you sitting watching the event unfold, with a clear confused look covering your features. The gravity of the moment becomes apparent as you realise the rarity of such a complete gathering. There must be something important unfolding, something that has brought them all together at this early hour. As Yeosang makes it to the counter, he realises you are sitting there, and his face contorts into an expression of realisation and humiliation.

“Hey, muffin.” Wooyoung manages to get out, before cursing at himself for somewhat revealing the meeting the eight were supposed to discreetly have before you awaken.

Yeosang and Yunho come into your line of sight, and you offer them a warm smile, taking a moment to observe Yunho's behaviour. Surprisingly, he returns your smile with one of his own, genuine, and soft. The exchange doesn't go unnoticed by the other members gathered around the island, and you can feel a slight commotion in your stomach as your body warms up. It's a pleasant surprise to witness Yunho's genuine smile, something you haven't seen before.

However, you soon realize that they want to discuss something in private, perhaps a topic that is better suited for their long-standing friendship. Although a bit disappointed, you understand the need for them to have their own space and conversation, possibly involving "boy stuff." Respecting their privacy, you decide to step back and give them the confidentiality they require.

“Uh…I better go brush my teeth,” you exclaim, standing up from your seat and straightening your pant legs with your hands, making up an excuse to leave.

Making your way to your bedroom, you stop when you hear Hongjoong speak to you. “Just find me when you’re ready, we can leave whenever.” Nodding your head, you smile at all of the men in the kitchen, before heading into your room to stall for as long as you need.

As the door to your room closes, an expectant silence settles among the eight of them. They exchange glances, giving each other a nod, and then the conversation begins to flow.

“You guys need to read the room better, holy shit,” Jongho says when he is sure you’re out of earshot. He doesn’t believe you would be one to eavesdrop knowing it’s an important meeting between him and his friends.

“Okay, how were we supposed to see Tiny when she was hidden behind Mingi’s big ass?” Wooyoung says rolling his eyes as he takes a seat next to where San is standing. San rests an arm around Wooyoung’s shoulders looking down at the shorter male.

“You could’ve at least waited until we were sure she wasn’t here,” San suggests softly, not wanting to annoy the man further. Wooyoung grumbles a ‘whatever’, before paying attention to what Seonghwa is saying.

“Finally decided to open up that ice-cold heart, Yuyu?” Seonghwa questions the black-haired male sitting next to him, a knowing grin plastered on his features.

“I’ll kill you, shut up.” Yunho deadpans, not even looking in his direction, wanting to ignore his friends’ questions, knowing they are curious as to why he is so tame towards you all of a sudden.

“I’m older than you, watch it,” Seonghwa states, pointing a finger in Yunho’s direction, in which Yunho makes a mocking face, sticking his tongue out at Seonghwa.

“We can talk about it another time, okay? I need you guys to focus for a second.” Hongjoong speaks up, causing the seven around him to immediately listen to his words with full concentration. “I have some bad news, but I need you guys to stay calm for me, can you do that?”

Confused looks are shared from around the room, wondering what is so serious that Hongjoong had to warn them to control their emotions. Their captain continues speaking, “I heard from Bumjoong that Ryu may be here, visiting.”

The room grows heavy with tension as the atmosphere becomes charged with anger. Harsh intakes of breath echo through the space, a collective reaction to the weight of the situation at hand.

All eyes are directed towards Yunho and Yeosang, knowing the emotional chaos they have experienced due to Ryu was severe, and understanding the deep wounds may still linger within them. The intensity of their past struggles hangs in the air, casting a shadow over the room and amplifying the gravity of the moment. The others hold their breath, silently pleading for restraint and understanding, hoping that the conversation can navigate the difficult territory without causing further pain. The shared glances exchanged among them serve as a silent reminder of the delicate balance they must maintain.

“I already knew, it’s okay,” Yunho admits, anger evident in his body yet not as bad as it would be if he had just found out. He just hopes that Yeosang will take the news well.

“How come I didn’t know about this?” Yeosang’s voice has traces of anger and sadness and Hongjoong feels bad for not telling his younger friend sooner.

“We just found out, we immediately wanted to make a meeting so you can all hear it at the same time.”

Yeosang's heart sinks as he realizes the reason he was kept in the dark about the situation, knowing he was never as close to Bumjoong as the three others. Though the knowledge stings, he finds peace in the understanding that they wanted to share the news with everyone together. The initial anger he felt towards his friends starts to fade, replaced by a subtle realization and a growing empathy. He comprehends the complexity of their decision, recognizing the intention behind it and the desire to ensure that no one was left out or burdened with the weight of the information alone.

“We don’t know if it is her, or what her intentions could be, but we don’t want to take any chances or risks.” Hongjoong pauses to take a breath, “We have to stay distant from ___, just until we know that Ryu is no longer here.”

“Distant? Why would we stay distant? We have to protect her from Ryu.” San exclaims his voice getting louder, worried at what might happen if Ryu finds out about you.

“If Ryu doesn’t know who ___ is, then there is no chance of her getting hurt,” Hongjoong states, his voice staying the same level, recognition goes around the room as they realise, he has a point.

“But what if she finds out? What happens to ___ if Ryu finds out about her?” Yeosang asks, his voice venomous, causing shivers to go down Mingi and Jongho’s spines, still not used to the harsh tone of their friend.

“Then we have to hope that she doesn’t destroy her like she did us.” Hongjoong exhales, knowing the gravity of the situation.

“Come on, Joong. The second Ryu finds out about ___, it would be over for her, the least we can do is plan for if it happens.” Mingi says, anxiety bubbling in his throat, concerned immensely for you.

“I haven’t thought of one yet, but I will, okay?” Hongjoong replies, trying his hardest to calm the men in front of him whilst also fighting his own worries deep in his mind.

“Have you even started thinking a plan through? What is she going to think when we all of a sudden start ignoring and distancing from her?” Jongho inquires, his voice almost reaching booming, his fears starting to affect him deeply.

“We don’t have to ignore her in the house. Just when outside and at school, avoid her at all costs.” Hongjoong answers, sorrowful about what has to be done. “We do that partially already. Just Mingi, you can’t walk with her to classes.”

Grumbles and complaints are through across the room in a rowdy, loud way, causing Hongjoong to again silence them.

“This is to protect her. This is not for any other reason, boys.”

“Then why are you going out with her today? You’re going against your own words, Captain.” Mingi exclaims, his anger raising slightly at the hypocrisy of his older friend.

“We made these plans before we knew Ryu was here. As much as I want to cancel and reschedule, it would make ___ question, and I want to keep her in the dark here.”

There are a few disbelieved groans and sighs thrown around as enraged stares are directed at Hongjoong.

Hongjoong’s voice booms through the kitchen, the words echoing off the wall, “Don’t you dare look at me like that. I am not using this as an excuse to ‘steal’ ___ from you. If anyone should be out with ___ when Ryu is here it should be me and you all know that damn well. Don’t turn this on me when you know it’s out of my fucking control.” Hongjoong’s voice is strong and sturdy as he speaks his part.

Murmurs of regret and remorse permeate the room, each man expressing their apologies in soft tones. Hongjoong, visibly weighed down by the news, sinks back into his chair, his frustration evident in the furrowed lines on his forehead. He wearily runs his hand through his dishevelled, dirty blonde hair, releasing a deep sigh of exasperation. The weight of the situation hangs heavily on his shoulders, causing his posture to slump. Sensing his distress, Seonghwa offers a comforting gesture, placing a reassuring hand on Hongjoong's shoulder.

“Yunho should go with you,” Yeosang says, his voice soft, quieter than it had been just a few moments ago, this statement causing confused stares to be pointed at him and the taller man.

“What, why?” Seonghwa questions, looking from Hongjoong to the platinum blonde.

“Hongjoong doesn’t know Ryu as well as Yunho and me. I have things I need to do; Yunho can go and make sure that you don’t run into her.” Yeosang explains, his voice back to a normal tone, hints of irritation still evident.

“How is he going to ensure that then?” Wooyoung's question echoes in the room, causing Yeosang to stay silent for a while.

“I will know. She hurt all of us, but I know her better than you all, there’s no chance she’s going to go to a furniture store here anyways, she always hated them.” Yunho answers for Yeosang, who gives his friend a thankful look. Yunho nods in the direction of his friend, before looking back to the six pairs of eyes scanning his every move.

“What? I’m not going to do anything to ___.” Yunho says, ignoring the way his friends send him doubtful looks, rolling his eyes, he admits, “She’s growing on me.”

---------

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pear1escence · 4 months

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When no one’s around (18+)

Keegan P. Russ x fem!Reader

Content Warnings: Smut, blowjob, fingering, light degradation.

A/N: Writing this was such a pain, could only finish that last part cus I was in the horny😞 2,3k words

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You can’t seem to get comfortable on the couch. Not with the lack of a pillow behind you, instead having the edge of the armrest digging into the back of your head, not with the couch pillows that aren’t soft enough to really sink into. No, the couch in Keegan’s home office was really just for decoration, to fill up the space of the room, another touch you’d added to piff up the space to your liking.

The sound of his computer keys merge with the sound of your music as he clicks away at it. He’s entirely focused on his work, much to your displeasure. This wasn’t at all what you’d had in mind for the evening, but he was a busy man, and you didn’t want to disturb him when he had work to finish up.

You can’t seem to stay still, hands jittering from the book in your lap to your phone to change playlists, or scroll away on Pinterest. He hasn’t even glanced over at you. Hasn’t said anything to you during the half hour that you’ve spent in there. Ugh.

You seem to catch his attention with your constant shuffling, though, and he huffs out a laugh as those pale blue eyes finally meet yours. “Come over here, baby. Keep me company.” That gorgeous, deep tone of his voice, sweet and intoxicating like honey, finally drawing you out of your boredom.

You’re at his side in a moment, his arm reaching around your waist to pull you over his lap. It’s not hard to make yourself comfortable on the width of his thighs, the soft fabric of his sweats underneath your bare legs. “Been neglecting you, haven’t I?” He murmurs, voice laced with humor. His arm stays around your waist, the short sleeve of his shirt pulled around his bicep and showing off his well-earned muscles.

Your hand traces down his arm to take his, your fingers playing with his hand while it slips underneath your shirt to rub at the side of your stomach. “Mhm, you have.” Your head tips back, placing a kiss on his neck, the comforting smell of him calming you.

His other hand leaves his keyboard as well, finding its place massaging the chubbiness of your inner thigh. His legs spread wider, and in response you spread your thighs to accommodate, pressing yourself closer to him. You’re not sure if you’ve imagined the sharp breath that leaves him, but no, it’s just been a little too long since you’ve had time for each other, time lost to his near constant travels and your own work.

“M‘sorry, doll. Been ignoring my girl, hm? Left you to please yourself all on your own?” The way his voice gets so deep when he speaks quietly. God. “Fuck, it’s been long, huh?” He laughs, and yeah, you feel his cock swelling underneath you. His hand moves to cup your cunt through the fabric of your sweatshirts, a sigh leaving you at the pressure of his hand, your cotton panties rubbing against your clit.

“Too long.” You mutter, “Missed the way you touch me.” And fuck, you really have. Your fingers can’t compare to the way his fingers can fill you up, can’t come close to the way the thickness of his cock stretches you out so well.

You move your hips in a teasing, circular motion, a deliciously deep groan leaving his lips as his thighs jut forwards. In return, he grinds his cock against your ass, the additional feeling of his hand pressing onto you causing you to whine in anticipation.

His hands move to push both your shorts and underwear off your thighs, hoisting your thighs over his to gain him access. He raises his hand, sucking his fingers into his mouth to coat them in his spit before he moves to rub his fingertips over your clit.

Your back arches against his chest, legs spreading wider. “Mmf…Keegan..” you whine, a drawn out, needy little sound. His fingers move in slow circles, his head leaning forwards to bite and suck at your neck. “Needy fucking thing, aren’t you?” His voice is just a murmur, words spoken directly into your ear and sending jolts down your body. “Can’t get yourself off properly on your own?” His finger rubs at your core, dipping into your cunt, causing an embarrassing whine to leave your lips.“No, no…you need me for that, can’t make yourself feel as good as I can.” He’s being mean, fuck, that mocking tone in his voice, you can feel your pussy get slicker with the need for the pleasure he could give you.

He pushes two fingers into you, and ffffuck if it doesn’t feel good. Pumping inside you and out in quick movements, rubbing at that spot he knows send jolts of pleasure up your stomach. His other hand presses down on your stomach, increasing the pleasure, and your hand on his bicep squeezes desperately for support, your sounds filling the room. Fuck, it’s not fair, the way he knows just how to touch you to get you like this.

“Feels good, yeah? Can’t even leave you to yourself for a week? you just get so fuckin’ desperate for me, sweet girl.”

Your fingers reach down to stop him, the attempt pathetic, weak, but his movements slow. You turn your body around to straddle him, your hand moving over the bulge of his cock in his sweats, palming his hard-on through the fabric. The groan that leaves his lips makes you want to get on your knees and suck him off just to hear the other noises he’d make.

Keegan’s hand moves to weave itself in the root of your hair, pulling your head up to meet your eyes. He’s got that almost hazy look in his eyes, probably mirroring your own expression, his breath heavy. “You wanna get on your knees? Suck me off?” His words send shocks through your stomach, a whine leaving your lips. His thumb traces your bottom lip, moving to dip into your parted lips. Your tongue gives the pad of his thumb a little lick, your lips closing around it and sucking at his thumb.

He slaps your cheek with his other hand, an amused look in his eyes. “Words, baby, wanna hear you say it. Gone stupid on me, have you, dollface?” His thumb stays on your bottom lip while his other hand moves downwards. He flicks your clit, causing you to jump and earn a laugh from him, before he rubs slow, small circles over your clit, immediately easing the pain.

You rock back and forth, chasing the pleasure of his fingers rubbing at you. “Yes, yeah, fuck…wanna make you…ffeel good too, Keegs…”

He smiles in an almost teasing manner, his hand reaching up to squeeze a handful of your ass. “C’mon then, pretty girl..on your knees.”

Your bare knees rub against the rough fabric of the carpet as you shuffle onto the floor. You place your hands on his thighs, feeling the fabric of his sweats by running them up and down before coming up to his waistband. You shuffle his sweats down to his knees, exposing the loose boxers sitting around his waist. He’s hard as a rock underneath that black fabric, a wet mark over the swell of his tip where he’s leaking pre.

You hum in approval, causing him to chuckle, his hand coming up to bury itself in the root of your hair. “Hurry up.” He mutters, and you glare at him, rolling your eyes. He’s got that snarky, annoying smirk on his face, making you consider the option of leaving him to pleasure himself, just for a moment. Nah. He’s too tempting right now.

You wrap your hand around his cock, jacking him through the fabric of his boxers. You’re growing slow, so fucking slowly that you can see the annoyance growing in his eyes. You laugh, a grin spreading across your face much to his annoyance, and his hands find the hem of his waistband almost immediately to pull them down and out of the way.

“So impatient,” you mutter, sending him a quick, alluring smile.

You spit into the palm of your hand, reach out to touch him. He inhales sharply, and you wouldn’t have noticed the slight tense of his thighs if you weren’t staring so intensely. You want to stretch this out for long, pull his patience thin, get him all riled up and frustrated, and your eyes flicker to his face to gage his reaction.

Your fingertips trace over the reddened, sensitive skin of his tip, barely skimming over the area, moving downwards to travel down the underside of his length, down to the root of his cock. He doesn’t look annoyed. Instead, there’s a look of confidence in his eyes, calm, so like him. His eyes roam over you, taking in your features, the sparkle in your eyes, glossed lips and your teasing smile. Fuck, he’s hot.

The way he looks at you makes your stomach flutter, the way he seems so content to let you play with him like this, leaned back on his chair, just admiring the pretty girl on her knees in front of him, his pretty girl. He has an air of dominance around him, even though you’re the one controlling his pleasure right now. Not aggressive, not particularly sexual either, just an unspoken agreement between the two of you that Keegan is in control.

Two of your fingers connect with your thumb to wrap around him, stroking along the length of his cock, your thumb coming up to rub circles around his tip while you lean forwards to lap at his balls. Your free hand comes up to trace the skin along his inner thigh, and his moving to rest on the back of your neck. Your lips wrap around his balls, coating them in your saliva before his hand pushes you closer, making you shift your attention to lick a trail up his dick. He hums in approval, his thighs spreading further.

Your lips wrap around the tip of his cock, suckling gently while your tongue swirls around the tip. “Thaaats it, good girl.” He groans, his eyes meeting yours when you look up at him through your eyelashes. You flatten your tongue along his shaft, opening your mouth wider to take him deeper. One of your hands fondling his balls, slick with your spit, the other stroking his cock while you suck him off. The hand on your head kneading into your hair, pushing you to take more of him. “C’mon, take me deeper, fuckkk, you’re such a slut for me.” He groans.

His hand keeps guiding you, forcing your head further down, your mouth stuffed with his cock. You moan around him, the taste of his pre bitter on your tongue, you gag when he finally pushes your head all the way down. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, sucking me off like a fucking whore. Should keep you on your knees all the time while I work, hm? Make time pass by a lot faster, you want that?” His voice getting all deep and throaty.

You can barely catch your breath, flattening your tongue along his dick while he bobs your head up and down. You’re almost ashamed of how much you enjoy it, the way he uses your mouth for his pleasure like this, your panties soaked through with your wetness. You don’t notice his hand has moved before he slaps you across the face, hard, with the hand on your head keeping you in place. “Answer me.” He speaks, your eyes brimming with tears as you look back at him. He smirks as he pushes you back down on his cock, causing you to whine in surprise, and you can’t form proper words with your mouth stuffed. “Yes,” you whimper, sounding more like an ‘eth’, and he chuckles in response, gripping your hair with more force and moving you along his cock. His noises grow in volume as his movements grow faster, deep groans leaving his mouth as his head falls back against the back of his chair.

“Fuck, feels so fucking good, you’re so good.” He groans, a broken moan of your name escaping him. His back curves, and he slides further towards the edge of his seat. His hand grips your hair tightly, roughly bobbing your head up and back down his cock. “M’close, so fucking close, babydoll.” He moans, “Gonna paint that pretty face with my cum, shit.”

He was babbling mindlessly, drunk on pleasure and solely focused on how good you felt around his cock. “Fuckkk, doll, love that pretty fucking mouth, love the way you suck my cock, taking me like a fucking slut.” He groans, and you look up at him to catch the expression on his face. He’s struggling to keep his eyes on you, his brows knotted together in pleasure, biting his lip so hard you’re surprised he hasn’t drawn blood.

“Shit, m’ so fuuucking close, baby, i’m gonna cum, fuck I’m gonna cum, all over that gorgeous face, shiiit-“ his eyes rolling back as his thighs jut upwards, causing you to gag as his cock hits the back of your throat, “Gonna fucking-“ his hand harshly pull you off his cock as he grips his cockshaft, stroking himself desperately. You stick your tongue out for him, your eyes completely fixated on his face, the way his mouth drops open in pleasure, a strum of ‘fuck fuck fuck’s leaving his mouth as a string of white cum shoots out, coating your tongue and your face as he moans desperately, fucking gone in pleasure.

When the high of his orgasm fades, he slumps back on his chair, his arms slung onto the armrests. His chest heaves as he takes in one heavy breath after the other, eyes remaining closed. You breathe out a laugh, swallowing the spend that landed on your tongue as his hand comes up to caress your cheek. He breathes out a ‘thank you’ before his hand falls to rest on his knee.

#keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #cod keegan #cod ghosts #keegan russ #call of duty ghosts #call of duty keegan #keegan p russ x reader #keegan smut #keegan russ smut

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raenizza · 7 months

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In n' Out (NSFW)

Summary: Jey Uso uses you as his own personal Fleshlight for the night.

Characters/Pairings: Jey Uso x Black Reader, Jey Uso x Black OC, Jey Uso x Reader

Word Count: 2,429

Warnings: Cawk Sucking, Angry/Sassy Jey, Cursing and Ushy Gusy noises

Author’s Note: Hello My Loves!! It feels like forever since I’ve written something for you guys so I thought since I have all this free time, why not give you a little NSFW treat?

After a long and dreadful road trip, you finally got to settle inside of the 5-star hotel room, you and Jey shared together. The hotel was so big, you thought for a quick second at how much space the “living room” area was.

You couldn’t wait to explore the place and its entirety. But first things first, sleep. You decided to look for the bedroom, upon discovering its well-decorated beauty you flopped your aching body tirelessly on the bed.

Resting your feet directly on top of a pillow that Jey had placed on the end of the bed for you.

You took a deep breath in and closed your eyes as you felt yourself finally feeling relaxed and at peace, while also thinking about your husband accompanying you and sharing the moment with you.

Also coming into thought on how he decided to “quickly” handle some business downstairs before coming back up. Thinking about this alone, made you feel a bit agitated. You want-, no no no, you need him all to yourself this time. No ifs or buts about it. Just you and your man.

You calmed yourself down a bit as you came to a realization that he might be really tired after working on whatever the hell he doing. And just as that thought crossed your mind, you heard the hotel door slam open. The sudden bang shook you up instantly.

You immediately ran to the living space of the hotel room, watching your man storm in with such anger. Clearly, somebody pissed his ass off to the highest point.

“FUCK BROO!!” Jey yelled out as he sped through the living and towards the bedroom, not even making eye contact, he headed straight to his suitcases and bags.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” You asked in a concerning manner.

“FUCKING ASSHOLE BRUH!!!” Jey yelled out once again. He was searching for something in his bag but couldn’t find it.

“Baby! Just tell me what it is and I can help you find it!” You screamed back at him, trying to offer help. But it was no use, he just ignored you and kept scrambling across the room.

He started looking under the bed, in the drawers of the nightstand, and then back to his luggage. He looked like a madman as he continued his vigorous search in the bedroom. Jey’s face was red and filled with rage and anger.

You knew he was really angry because of his use of foul language and the volume of his voice lowered. The nigga got quiet all of a sudden, which scared you indefinitely. Jey was moving so fast, he was practically sprinting from the living room space to the bathrooms to the kitchen and then back to the bedroom.

You didn’t want to make him more angry than he already is but you really wanted to help him in every way possible.

“Baby, please whatever it is-” Before you can even finish, he pulled up from looking under the couch.

“You wanna help?!!” He said in a distressed tone. He walked right up to you as if you were a threat.

“YES! I just want to help you find whatever you’re looking for You don’t have to act like- ” He cuts you off immediately. You felt his heavy breath over your face. This was the first time he actually looked at you. His eyes were dark and emotionless. You narrowed yours right back at him with softness and innocence.

“ACT LIKE WHAT??!!” He screamed, at this point shouting to you as if you were 10 feet away.

“LIKE A DAMN ASSHOLE!” You shouted right back to him. Jey gives her a deathly glare, shocked by your response.

At this point, you start to realize that you don’t appreciate the way Jey is acting. And as of this moment, you know that he’s been frustrated and angry before, but not like this. Not ever, like this. You understand that he is upset and may need some space to cool down but it doesn’t give him the right to release that energy on you.

Jey took a step back to continue his search for whatever he was in search of, but he stopped midway in his tracks. He looked back at you and felt bad. Not only for just how he reacted but also for his whole attitude in general.

“C’mere.” His voice was hoarse from all the screaming. You obliged and walked slowly towards him. He grabbed you by the waist, then let his left hand trail up towards your neck, wrapping his thick fingers around your throat, and pulling your face close to his.

He kissed you deeply. His tongue swirled in your mouth, dominating yours. You moaned against his movements and the grip he had on your slender throat. He wanted you, desperately. You started to massage his bulge through his sweatpants.

“Mhmm.” he growled at your touch. His aggressive nature turned you on, which raised your boldness. You started to untie his pants in between kisses, pulling them down, and exposing his bright red boxers.

Breaking away from the kiss, you immediately went down on your knees, getting into a position to satisfy his flesh. As you pulled his thick brown shaved 5-inch peen out and began stroking it, he bucked his hips towards you. Groaning at each and every stroke. You spat on your hand, making it wet and slippery. You placed his tip on your lips as you began nibbling, but then he stopped you.

“Wait, wait. First Lesson. You wait for MY instruction. You understand?” he said to you in a husky tone. You nodded in response.

“When I give you permission to wrap yo mouth around my dick that’s when you go down, got it?”

“Mhmm,” you said shaking your head.

“Now keep stroking my dick. There you go. Mhmm There you go, Mama” You stroked him slow and steady. Not breaking eye contact with him. His tatted chest heaving as he watches you stroke him.

“Sexy ass lips. So full and plump. Yea, that shit feels so good.” Jey moaned out to you as you continued to stroke his thick 7-inch dick pulling your face closer toward him.

“Slowly, slowly. That’s it. There you go. Oooooo. Just the tip baby, we goin’ work it. We goin get it all the way down ya throat.” He says to you staring deep into your big brown eyes.

“Stroke that. Stroke that shit, baby. Just look at me and nod. Uh-huh.” You looked right at him, nodding in agreeance.

“Look at me. Keep your eyes on me. Keep your eyes on me, Mama.” Without breaking contact Jey slightly tapped his tip up against your lips.

“Open ya mouth now.” He says as he inserts himself into your warm mouth.

“Good girl. Take a lil more. That’s it.” Inching his entire tip into you. Your mouth widened at his girth and length. This is only the tip you thought to yourself, and you are already struggling. You slowly bobbed your head back and forth on him, tasting him on your tongue. His precum tasted oh so sweet as slid across your tastebuds. The wet sounds of your mouth sucking his tip filled the room.

Jey started to feel himself get angsty as he wanted more of your warmness around you. His hand surrounds your throat once again, guiding you to his next movements.

“You trust me?” He asks to you.

“Mhmm.” You moaned against his tip, causing him to groan in response.

“Imma fuck ya throat, okay? Don’t fight me. Don’t fight me, open ya mouth baby.”

You opened your mouth wide enough for Jey to slide his entire length inside. He felt so thick and big against the inside of your cheeks. Jey continued to grind himself into you, slowly fucking your throat. His tip just barely reaches the back of your throat.

“Uuuhhhh Just stay loose for me baby.” You tried to loosen yourself up more for him.

“You so fuckin’ pretty with my dick in your mouth.” He watches you as you take him whole. Fucking your throat deeply, teasing him into wanting to feel the inside of you so badly. Your mouth wasn’t enough for him at the moment.

“Fuckkkkk.”He blurted out as his balls started to slam against your chin. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed you right now.

“C’mere.” Jey says as he pulls himself out of you, picking you up just by the throat and arm, he throws you over his shoulder. Jey sped to the bedroom, immediately throwing you on the bed. He finished undressing himself as he hopped on the mattress, undressing you. He started rip your shirt and jeans off in one swift motion.

“I need you right fucking now.” Jey growled to you as rips your panties, exposing your glistening, wet pussy. You were so taken aback by his abruptness that you couldn’t even speak.

“Baby please,” you whispered to him. Jey ignored you as you as he slid his thumb across your clit. Rubbing your slit with your juices covering his fingers, he bent down, his face just inches away from your wet pussy. Jey watched you throw your head back.

“Mhmm Babe.” signaling him to enter just a finger in, he wanted to so bad, just looking at your reaction to his gestures teases him just a slight bit. He brought himself closer to you, his breath hovering over your entrance, lips grazing just at the slit of your pussy. Grillz gleaming.

“Fuck, please just-” He pulled himself back. Remembering quickly that he is in control and whatever he says goes.

“Nah. Sit up.” He got back up and placed himself at your entrance. Sliding his brown dick up and down your pussy, covering himself with your juices.

Jey took himself in, feeling every bit of your warm insides, your tight wet walls hugging his thick hard long man meat. You loved feeling him inside of you, he began thrusting himself, without warning.

Shifting his body in missionary, you felt his movements quicken with every stroke. His forceful manner displays all in the way he’s fucking you.

“Mhmm baby easy-” you pleaded.

“Shut up.” He responded swiftly with no hesitation. Jey’s mission wasn’t to soften you up, he wanted to fuck you. Deep, Long, and Hard. That was his mission. Jey wanted you now and only you.

“You goin take every inch of dis dick, understand?” He said breathlessly in between strokes.

“Fuckkk.” Jey moaned out as he watched you arch your back and moan in ecstasy. He loved every single moment of it, which turned him on even more, causing him to fuck you even faster.

His skin, now slapping against yours, floods the room. His hot breathing and moans echo in your ear. Jey was not stopping and you didn’t want him to either. As he continues to stroke himself deep into you, all you can think of is how much you need this. How much you wanted him to take control of you and tell you what you needed to do.

Jey made sure that you felt all of him inside of you. You felt that shit all in your stomach. You started to tap him on his side, signaling him to slow down a bit, since you started to feel a slight discomfort. He carefully obliged and kissed you on your cheek.

“I’ll go a little slow now, baby, I’m sorry.” He whispers to you as his strokes start to lessen in speed. Jey pulled your hip away from his and began massaging your thigh, although he was a bit aggressive, he doesn’t want to hurt you in the process of pleasuring you. He would never do no shit like that to you.

“It’s okay, Mama, just take it easy on me.” He looked at you, deep and lustful. He kisses you all over, focusing mainly on your forehead.

Jey placed one of his fingers over your clit as he uses the other to lift one of your legs. He positioned himself directly in front of you as he pulled up not breaking any eye contact. The first thought that raced in your mind was “oh damn, this nigga is about to go poundtown.”

And that is exactly what he did. Jey started to pound himself into you in a way that wasn’t so hard as the first time around. He rubbed your clit and gave you little smooches in the process.

“Shitttt” Jey muttered under his breath. Feeling every bit down to his balls slapping against your anus. Jey was putting in work and was not planning on stopping until you gave the say-so.

The room was filled with the love sounds you two made, his grunting, and your moans. The only thing that rushed through your head was how good it felt to have him on top and inside of you. Pleasuring you every second, feeling him fucking you, his dick going In n’ Out.

You felt a warm and tingling sensation down in your abdomen, feeling yourself getting close to climax as you tighten yourself around his dick.

“Fuck, bae you gripping my shit huh” he whispered his hot breath into your ear.

“You close baby?” He asked looking at you.

“Yesss” you moaned out to him looking right back at him, as your nails dug into his back, marking him. He loves it when you do that, it makes him want you to come even more.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, please, please” you said in between each stroke.

“Cum on this dick, baby” Jey in a deep and passionate tone.

“Cum right on your dick. That’s it, that’s right. Get your nut baby. Get your fucking nut.” As he talks you through your orgasm, over and over again your legs start to shake. He started to kiss you, softly, as his strokes began to slow in pace. He held you close and tight, as you wrapped both your arms and legs around him.

“Damn. That was-” Your eyes rolled back

“Yeah.” He said as he rolled on his back, pulling you on top of him.

“Baby, did you even-”

“I’ll get mine, I was just focused on you.” He says while holding you to his chest as you both lay in bed together. The only noise that could be heard was the sound of heavy breathing coming from both of you.

“What were you looking for anyways?” You breaking the silence.

“Don’t worry. I already found it.” He said with a smirk.

#wwe #jey uso #jey uso x reader #jey uso x y/n #jey uso x mc #jey uso x black reader #jey uso x black oc reader #ucey jucey #wwe imagines #wwe fic #jey uso oneshot #jey uso fic #jey uso smut #jey uso x female reader #wwe headcanons #wwe fandom #the usos #jey uso imagine

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thoughtsfromlayla · 2 months

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Love and Loss

Summary: Despite being married for centuries, the two lovers have yet to produce an heir. Desperate for a child, she makes a deal with Phanes, God of Life, unbeknownst to her that motherhood has its own complications much like love and marriage. Now she must find a way to save both her child and her love.

Notes: ~11k words, only lightly edited... so yeah. Also, this is my first time posting any of my writing so I'm nervous as fuuuuck. I keep switching between past and present tense but I think I caught them all but idk. Let me know if I miss any tags or warnings! (There's so many plot holes but shhhh)

Warnings: MDNI - 18+ content, one use of Y/N but written in 3rd person, Reader has a "name" that's only used twice, pregnancy, loss of pregnancy, metaphorical use of surrogation, usage of miscarriage themes, jealousy, P in V, oral (F! receiving), unprotected sex, jealous Dream but that's to be expected really, regency-esque, diverges from cannon

Masterlist

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Despite having been in the Dreaming for so long, its frigid air was something she could never get used to. The temperature always fixed itself somewhere between an unheated house on a winter’s day and a spring day in the shade. Despite her title in the realm, she always felt like a child walking to the kitchen late at night to grab a snack whenever she meanders into the great hall.

The castle of the Dreaming was her home, and she was the owner in every right as her husband. A small black cat accompanies her, its green collar and bell jingle with each step in its preppy trot. Her Lady wore simple garments, a dark green dress with slits to match her feline friend. Its light-weight fabric billows around her with a breeze that never seems to stop and some golden jewelry decorated her neck and arms, all gifts from his Lord. She opted to walk barefoot, skin to soil, so as not to hurt her feet necessarily before the upcoming dinner the Dreaming would host later today—the idea her own entirely that her husband agreed to for her sake.

Her legs move her toward the throne room, where she is certain her husband presides. Still, her feet are cold and thus she picks up the pace. Her steps are lighthearted as she prances on her tiptoes, heels dangling from her fingers.

Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of the Nightmare Realms, Prince of Stories. She was sure there were more, but if she were to start listing them all in her head, she’d be stuck there all day. Morpheus was as old as humanity itself, perhaps even older. But as she sees him spread out on his throne, the air of authority is never questioned. Age has only made him more intimidating.

Morpheus commands any space he enters. His shadow fills each nook and cranny it seemed fit, aura chilling and distant. Yet he himself was a beautiful creature indeed. His modern form molded himself into a lean body, distinct muscle lines, and a strong jaw. His dark hair always looked tousled as if he had rolled out of bed a mere minute ago, and despite how often she would run her hair through the silky strands, they never behaved as they should have.

“Wife, mine,” Morpheus greets as she nears the bottom of the stairs. “What ails you to seek me out?”

The Lady smiles and gives a small curtsy before she ascends the curved stairs. “Nothing ails me, my lord. Must one have a reason to see her husband?”

Morpheus lets out an entertained breath before opening his arms in invitation. Another graceful smile appears on her lips as she sits comfortably in his lap, his arms encircling her.

“No, I suppose not,” He replies. He watches as she makes herself as comfortable as she can, leaning her head on his shoulder in a way that wouldn’t mess up her hair. The handmaidens would not stop fussing over it if a single strand was out of place from their original design.

“I simply wish to spend some time with you before our feast. I fear that I will be whisked away as I entertain guests for the evening.” She closes her eyes and steadies herself on the patterned breathing of her husband.

“I will stay by your side if you so command it,” Morpheus says. He runs his thumb in circles on her bare shoulder.

“And have everyone afraid to approach me? With your dark and brooding act?” She jests, her eyes opening briefly to look into his.

He can’t help his eyes rolling at her slight tease. “As you wish, my love.”

The two lovers sit for a moment. The sounds of her cat purring and their breaths mingling fill the air. But serenity such as this never lasts long in a castle like theirs. Lucienne comes from a hallway, presumably, the library’s, dressed up as well. Her coat was tailored to fit her body, her shoes freshly shined, and her glasses cleaned.

She gives a curt bow to the two sovereigns. “My lord, my lady,” She addresses. “The guests will be arriving soon.”

“Thank you, Lucienne,” Her lady says. She reluctantly releases herself from the warmth of her husband and uses the throne as a brace to put on her shoes. Her husband’s hand rests on the small of her back to further assist her.

“I will see you very soon, my king,” She says leaning down to peck his cheek before descending the stairs. She looks back once with another smile and then follows Lucienne to greet the arriving guests.

Morpheus’s eyes watch her figure until she turns a corner. He was still underdressed, his day previously preoccupied with trying to find a certain nightmare. He was simply idling on his throne in a simple black attire with his long coat. After all, a king need not worry about how he looks if he commands respect without golden bribes. With a wave of his hand, sand befalls him and covers him like ivy to a broken wall. When they recede he is dawning a tight button-up undershirt and vest, its fabric weaved with intrinsic cloud-like designs. His coat is now replaced with another of a similar shape and design but resembles cotton instead of the original felt. He fastens the raven cufflinks and smooths down his pants before rising from his throne and going to the Dreaming’s castle garden.

When Morpheus enters the gardens he immediately spots his wife at the entrance, standing underneath a pergola of purple wisterias and climbing hydrangeas. The flowers slowly lean towards the goddess as her presence fuels them by simple proximity. Her cat is nowhere to be seen and probably ran off into the gardens after a rodent caught his eye.

Morpheus slides up beside his wife as she greets the last of the guests arriving. He turns his head towards the decorated table and can see a great spread of gods, goddesses, fairies, nymphs, and other mystical creatures that his wife had managed to befriend—the feeling of her arm wrapping around his redirects his attention.

“Shall we, lord husband?” She gives him another one of her smiles and he understands how the hanging flowers feel. How he had ever lived without her before was still a mystery to him. To be him without her, it is like the Earth without its Sun - and he wishes to always feel the gravitational pull of her love.

Morpheus leads them towards the aggregation of guests, all of whom devote their attention to them.

“Beloved guests,” His wife starts speaking in her nectar-like tone, “Despite what is currently happening in the waking world, we are pleased that you could make time and attend this wondrous dinner.”

The goddess pauses for a brief moment as her guests clap in agreement. When they stop, she continues. “The feast is served buffet style, please eat and enjoy yourself to the fullest content. The Dreaming is here for your convenience.”

With her open palm, a long table appears with dishes of all types. Wreaths and fresh flowers decorate any empty space, which is to say, not much. Lambs, beef, and several types of poultry and fish take centerpieces along the table. Fruits, vegetables, and freshly baked bread weave in between the large plates as palate cleansers and small plates appear on the very corners of the table. A satisfied smile appeared on Her Lady’s face as the guests began grabbing food.

As the dust settles and smaller niches of guests start grouping, Morpheus is displeased when his wife leaves his side to mingle amongst the other gods. He watches from the shadows, small fruit plate in hand, glooming as she smiles with her guests. A hand comes up to hide her mouth as she laughs at something Phanes, God of Life, said. Jealousy brews and grows bitter like spoiled milk.

Morpheus stands, ready to come to his wife’s side in hopes of deterring the god, but before he can a nymph comes forward and gives an exaggerated curtsy. He can’t help the slight roll of his eyes as she begins to talk him up. The nymph’s voice carries a small lithe to it and he becomes unfocused, only noticing the movement of his wife’s green dress and Phanes walking off into the hedge labyrinth.

A frown etches itself onto his face. The nymph choosing to ignore the frown finds the courage to lift a mossy hand to caress his coat’s lapel, to which the Endless notices. Morpheus looks down at the nymph, his hand tightly grabbing into her wrist and dropping it away from him.

“Do not presume you may touch me, insolent child.” His voice is deep and grave as his frown deepens.

The nymph’s face contorted into embarrassment as red poppies boom across her cheeks and ears. She briskly walks away, forgetting to curtsy, with her tail tucked between her legs. The forest nymph looks forward to the next time she meets the Dream King, but she does not know that this will be the last time the doors of the Dreaming will open to her.

Dream makes a beeline towards the hedge labyrinth, taking a right turn as he had witnessed his wife doing moments ago. But, as something as lucid as the Dreaming, the labyrinth path twists and turns in new ways each moment. Morpheus turns left and right based on where he could feel his wife’s presence, but seems that she does not want to be found.

As a deity in her own right, should she so command it, she would not be found. Something that the Endless found infuriating at the moment. What could she possibly be doing with Phanes? Did she invite him for a personal reason? Was the dinner event a ruse so she could speak with him without raising any questions? Well, Morpheus surely was starting to ask questions.

Jealously turned into guilt quickly like the crack of a lightning bolt. Has he not been a good husband? Was she getting bored of their marriage? It has been several centuries, after all. Guilt turned into sadness as the questions he asked started bringing down his spirit. Surely there is something he can do to make her happy again. Surely she is faithful, surely, surely, surely…

Morpheus stands still, the drive to find his wife lost. The hedge leaves shiver as the temperature grows colder from the king’s mood. The lovely sunset leaves the last of its warmth before disappearing, leaving the sky full of stars. He turns around and retraces his steps, if his wife does not want to be found, he will grant her this wish.

Morpheus would never admit to anyone that he mopes. But with his sluggish walk and downturned lips, he clearly was. He sees his wife had made it out of the labyrinth quite some time ago and is already waving her guests goodbye, Phanes nowhere in sight. When she sees him emerging from the hedges, she perks up and excuses herself from her conversation.

“Dear husband, where did you run off to? Too many people in your presence?” She jokes, latching herself onto his arm.

“I was merely looking for you,” Morpheous murmurs. He starts walking with her back to the castle.

He waits as his wife takes a pause, slowing down in step. “You followed me into the labyrinths?”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to say, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“Yes…” He draws out, trying to tread lightly, hoping that she would open up without much prompting. “I saw you and Phanes entering together.”

An amused huff escapes her. “I see.”

The silence lingers like the plague: uncomfortable and heavy in the air.

“Will you not speak as to why?” He questions and he almost hates how desperate he sounds.

The lady takes a seat on his throne, only to lean down and take off her shoes with a satisfied sigh. She rubs the ankles of her foot when she speaks again. “I believe it to be a personal matter.”

The answer was vague, and Morpheous hated it. Angry, gray storm clouds formed overhead and the ice-cold rain started to hit the stained glass behind her.

“Am I not worth sharing with?” He asks again, but he doesn’t stop to let her answer. With her eyes wide in surprise, he continues. “Am I not good enough? Faithful enough? Am I not devoted enough to you, my love? Will you command me to beg on my knees, I shall if you so ask.”

He falls to his knees before her and runs his hands from her ankle to her knee, slowly, deliberately. His lips follow soon after, tracing the same path his fingers had. Her breath hitches and her hearts start beating faster.

“How can I show my devotion to you, my love?” He kisses.

“My wife?” He kisses again.

“My forever goddess?” And again.

“Morpheus,” She breathes out, and it’s all he ever wants to hear. She is all he ever wants to breathe and all he wants to taste.

“I pray to Daleena, Goddess of Husbandry, for forgiveness. I have left my wife unsatisfied and feel the crop of our love withered. I shall repent for my sins by your guidance.” Morpheus says in a hushed tone as he slowly inches higher on her leg.

The goddess feels power surge through her as the prayer leaves her husband's lips, and she craves the touch of them on her own. Heat pools between her legs as her husband’s breath fans across her lower regions. Her dress slits exposed her legs deliciously to Morpheous but there were still her undergarments, which he removed slowly, keeping contact with her silky skin as it slid down.

Her Lady looks down at him with uneven breaths and waits for him to give her what she wants. Morpheus, however, is patient. He traces his lips higher, he kisses all the spots she wants, but not where she needs it the most.

“Morpheus,” She pleads, and it is all he needs. One moment it is the cold air of the Dreaming and the next it is the warmth of his lips, tongue languishing the length of her slit.

She jerks in place, strong hands holding down her hips. Her own hands shoot out, desperate to grab onto anything. One, bear-clawed and desperate, on the arm of the throne and the other weaving itself into the silky strands of her husband. She gasps at the wet sensation and her head is thrown back in pleasure.

The Endless is unmovable, driven solely by the purpose of satisfying his wife. A low groan emits from deep in his throat at the unapologetic sounds she cries, babbling in a series of his name and other obscenities. He tilts his head higher until he finds her clit and relishes in the pain of her nails in his hair, lapping at her arousal with contentment until it drips down his chin. He is a starved man and she is his salvation.

Morpheus continues his demonstrations, alternating between her clit and her needy cunt. She clenches her thighs hard as she feels the impending rise of her orgasm. Her fingertips buzz with excitement as he continues to ravish her sensitive clit. His pace continues, and her eyes roll to the back of her head.

She calls out his name again, and a high-pitched whine leaves her lips as he easily adds two digits into her weeping hole. He moves them slowly, slightly curved to touch that delicious spot inside her that has her arching her back taught like a bow. From below, Morpheus looks at her through his lashes, and he can’t help the smirk that tugs on his lips as his wife tries to thrash from the sensations. She tightens around him, cunt pulsing sporadically, and he is flooded with her orgasm where he drinks greedily from the taste - sweet like a plentiful summer wine.

He places a final gentle kiss on her clit before looking at her again, the skin of her extremities glowing ethereally as she tries to control her ragged breaths. She is still in the midst of her orgasm, trying to calm herself from the high and he finds it the perfect time to leave a bruising hickey on the inside of her plush thighs. Morpheus gets up, dick painfully hard as it brushes against his pants. He takes hold of her hands to help her stand on wobbly legs and leans back.

He leans until he falls, through the throne room floor and then onto the plushness of their shared bed. His command dematerializes both of their clothes and he basks in the sticky warmth of his wife on top of him. He runs light fingers down her spine, shivers following behind like a loyal companion, whispering sweet nothings into her ears.

“Come back to me,” He murmurs, kissing her sweat-filled brow.

“Hmm,” The goddess exhales after a few more seconds of silence, eyes opening languishingly, lashes tickling the skin of her husband.

She looks around the dimly lit room for a moment before realizing that she is in their bed. Using her husband’s chest, she props herself up, effectively straddling him beneath her. Morpheus remains unmoving, ignoring the way his tip brushes against her lower lips, only messaging the meat of her hips with his thumb.

When she meets his eyes again, he speaks. “Have I proven myself, dear wife?”

It takes a moment for the goddess to remember what he was talking about and her feelings crash down again. “You had never needed to prove yourself to me, Morpheus. What happened between me and Phanes will remain between me and Phanes.”

She lifts herself on sore thighs, but can’t get far as gentle hands turn rough. The next moment, she is lying down with her husband looming over her. There was not enough light to illuminate his face, leaving only the impression of his merciless, mercury eyes. Deep down, she knows no harm will ever befall her, but in this moment, something primal presents itself.

Perhaps it is how his eyes bore into her very soul, to the very moment she was born several millennia ago. Or perhaps, she was just crazy about how his touch was driving her mad. She was very aware of the appendage that settled between the two of them and the way that her slick was coating it. His hands cup her cheek and slide down her neck and her head tilts back at the ticklish and yet pleasurable sensation. She swallows thickly and a broken sigh escapes her as his hand ghosts over her nipple.

Shivers bloom once more as his mouth incloses over the perk nipple, suckling at it in a way that has her legs wrapping around his waist. Her arms come up and snake over his shoulders, fingers gliding over the smooth marble-like skin, then resting behind his neck. One of her hands finds itself back into his hair, clenching as he gives continuous pleasure to her body.

Her hips buck up, her pussy clenching down on nothing. Cold fingers glide down the center of her stomach, going lower and lower until they cup her heat. A thumb gently circles her clit, understanding the overstimulation it recently received. They trace over her outer lips, downwards, then upwards again, coating themselves with a mixture of spit and arousal.

Morpheus removes himself from her breasts and presses his lips at the junction between her neck and shoulder. He licks at the sweat that accumulates on her collarbone and continues up her neck. When he faces her again, he speaks.

“Beg for it.” He commands.

Her Lady remains silent, slowly chewing on the inside of her lip, weighing the options in her head. Morpheus, as always, is patient and he continues running his fingers between her folds, keeping his pace but occasionally rubbing his pointer finger in circles around her clit. When she realizes that he really would just keep rubbing her and nothing else, she opens her mouth.

“P-please,” She stutters, the mere idea of begging or pleading foreign on her tongue. As a goddess, one would never allow such lowly behavior. Nevertheless how her husband will give her whatever she asks for.

Morpheus hums in approval, removing his hand to hold his dick instead. He rubs it this time in lieu of his fingers around her cunt and the goddess almost begs again. Before she can, a moan releases from both of them as he inserts himself into her and she whimpers at the familiar dull ache of being stretched out. Morpheus dips his head between her neck and shoulder again and remains stiff, feeling the warmth that only his wife can provide.

He pulls out and she mews beneath him in pleasure, ushering him to fill her up once again. Her cunt sucks him back and he wraps one of his arms underneath her waist to ground him. The other slams against the headboard of the bed, and he grabs on for all he is worth. His thrusts grow harder as her cries grow louder and he feels the way she clenches down on him.

“How divine you are, my love,” He says with a shaky breath, kissing more bruising hickeys that he hopes will last for millennia. He blows cold air over them and goosebumps rise in place, her back arching again and he can feel each perk nipple rubbing against his chest.

She moans his name again, losing herself in each drag of his cock, screaming curses when the head brushes against her sensitive spot, and whimpering when it kisses her cervix. Morpheus rises, looking down on his wife with half-lidded eyes, running a hand down between the valley of her breasts, feeling each desperate breath of air. He goes lower and groans when he sees how the two of them are connected.

Each thrust creates an unholy, slick noise and he can see the inflamed clit begging for attention. He presses his fingers on her lower stomach and she cries out for him.

“Can you feel me, my Queen?” He growls down at her, feeling the way his dick moves within her.

“Yes!” She cries back, her brows furrow and her cunt pulses around him, gripping him like a vice.

“Do you love me, my Queen?” He asks again.

“Yes!” She cries again. She starts begging again. Please, please, please, please. “Don’t stop, please my King. Please, don’t stop!”

“Will you tell me why you spoke with Phanes?” His last question.

Her eyes snap open, all the build up from her orgasm lost in the question. With her legs still around his waist, she twists her hips and topples Morpheus over until he is beneath her again.

“No,” She whispers, rocking her hips back and forth to regain the momentum they had lost.

This time, it is him who pleads. “Please,” He whispers back. His hands cup at the roundness of her ass cheeks, loving how soft they were.

She increases the ferocity of her grinds, looking down at her husband like he had just done with her. His head tosses back and she loves watching his Adam’s apple slide up and down his throat as he moans for her. His eyes are squeezed shut and his grip tightens but she doesn’t relent.

That familiar searing hot feeling appears again in her lower stomach and with one final grind she releases her orgasm all over him, falling onto his heaving chest. Morpheus cums right after, shooting his release into her in hot loads and she feels each jolt inside of her.

Her orgasm rocks through her body, feeling both too hot and too cold at the same time. It tingles in her fingers and toes and when she closes her eyes, she sees the stars of the Dreaming shinging back at her. When she comes back to her senses (again) she can feel her husband’s hand running through her bed hair, untangling it as much as he could with the one hand. The other hand holds her waist flush with his. The two lovers share a quiet moment after their throw of passion before she speaks again.

“Phanes and I…” She starts, and she can feel Morpheus stiffen under her. She groans as his cock is still deep in her, semi-hard and the only thing keeping them together.

She shifts a bit and some of their combined release pool down onto his abdomen. He would never admit to her how filthy he thought it was, nor the fact that he loved it all the same.

“Yes?” Morpheus urges, looking down at her on his chest with full attention.

“We made a deal.” She finishes her sentence.

Everything stops as Morpheus sits up. “What deal did you strike? I can do it instead, terminate the deal at once, my love.” He says with anxiety.

His wife grabs onto him as she is rocked back and a smile appears on her face. “Morpheus, my love, you have done your part.” Her smile turns sad and a forlorn look cloaks her face and she casts her gaze downwards. “We just needed some extra help.”

A confused look crosses Morpheus’s face. He brings a hand to lift her chin to look at him. With the raise of an eyebrow, he doesn’t have to say anything for his wife to know he wants a better explanation.

“I asked for a child, Morpheus.”

When her husband remains quiet, her lips start to tug downwards and his heart lurches at the sight. Her waterline soon floods with tears.

“We have not been able to produce an heir once.” She says, voice wavering. She dares not to blink for she is afraid if a single tear were to fall, all of them would.

“What in return?” He asks.

“I look after his pet snake for a weekend.” She replies simply. Morpheus has returned to his previous position.

The tears start to fall, each fat drop hitting his skin seemingly striking him directly in the heart. “You need not worry, wife. This time it will take, with Phanes’s help or not.” He whispers into the crown of her head.

She nods once, sniffling as her nose starts to run, too. The rhythmic breathing below her and the continued brushing of her hair rocks her to a dreamless sleep. Morpheus wraps his arms protectively around her frame and should he have known, he would’ve stayed longer. He would’ve held her tighter, kissed her longer, and promised her that he would be there when she woke. Alas, there was a missing nightmare, rampaging through the waking world, something that was his responsibility as king.

When she wakes up the next morning, with a satisfying ache throughout her body, the bed was cold and empty, and her husband was nowhere to be seen. To say that this was new behavior would be a lie, unfortunately. The number of times that a night of passionate love-making ended in a cold and lonely morning was more than she could count on her fingers and toes. That isn’t to say that Morpheus didn’t want to stay in bed with her, it’s simply a sovereign that understands his responsibilities, and she could never blame her husband for that.

Avoiding the difficult conversation the two lovers shared last night, her Lady avoids the locations her husband is most likely to reside in. Instead, she chooses to look towards her duties in the Dreaming. She finds herself amongst a simple dream from a small farmer who looks after sheep, who struggles with getting their weight to increase during the harsh winters. Carefully, she admits herself to him, dressed in a light yellow dress, sunflowers decorating the fabric and her hair. Her hands were covered in dirt, and she held a shepherd’s crook that had a bell attached to the end.

The farmer looks up from his rocking chair, prized sheep chewing lazily around him, and smoke from his pipe circles him. His face was rough - old and wrinkled from long days in the sun during his youth. But she smiles gently at him when his laugh lines appear around the edges of his eyes and mouth.

She stands next to him and they stare out on his flock together. He shares his life story. The story of a young boy whose father was also a farmer, and his father before him, and his father before him. He talks about his first puppy, named Barkly, his first love, whom he lost after he was drafted into the First World War, and how he now finds solitude with his late wife’s grave and his grandchildren.

He mentions that he needs to fatten his sheep up for the winter as he can’t lose any more stock so he may afford medicine for his sick grandson. He confesses that he has tried everything and nothing seems to have worked. He looks up at her now, tired, and slumped over, and realization dawns on his face as she smiles down at him.

She whispers at him a simple solution, one he can’t quite hear over the muddle of a dream. He stands abruptly as her figure distorts, the dawn is rising and a farmer’s body rises with it. He thanks her - he offers a sheep for her, which she nods at before he wakes from his dream.

The goddess visits a few more dreams, each giving her ethereal presence. Some were like the one she was just at, some needed comfort from the loss of animals, and some dreamed of a new pet to have. By the 5th dream, she realizes that several days had passed in the waking world, and her husband was nowhere to be found.

She admits to herself that she had been avoiding him longer than she intends, but perhaps it was time to face him again. She teleports to the castle, summoning herself before the drawbridge of the magnificent building. The ivory dragon perks up at her arrival, but otherwise pays no attention to her, going back to hoarding its gold coins, a few of them falling when she crosses the large doors.

As always, the castle is slightly colder than what she likes. A small sense of deja vu encapsulates her as she walks to the all-familiar throne room. This time, however, it was empty. No figure on the throne, nor the stairs as he sometimes preferrs it. Odd, she thinks, but not impossible. So she turns a corner to the library, she often finds him here as well, looking over the books of his dreamers. She searches high and low, through each aisle and reading spot, but still nothing. Anxiety and thoughts of doubt begin to fill her. Perhaps she did mess up, making that deal with Phanes.

Her last stop was Cain and Able’s homes. She finds the two brothers in front of their own homes, tending to their garden and playing with the gargoyle that Morpheus had given them. The two were of no help as they were unable to answer something worthy of even a hint of where her husband was.

She rolls her eyes as the walk away from their homes was accompanied by the sound of a scream and the resolute bang of a metal shovel hitting a skull.

As her last resort, she calls for Lucienne. Often, she hopes to never bother her, understanding that the work she puts into maintaining the Dreaming is never-ending. And, she knew that if she were to ask something of her, Lucienne would stop everything to help her.

“His Lord left several nights ago to fetch the Corinthian,” She spoke, pushing up her round glasses.

“And since then?” She questions, her hands wringing with themselves. She hopes for an answer she knows she won’t get.

Lucienne shakes her head no. “My Lady, Jessamy hasn’t returned either. Perhaps his Lord is simply taking longer than usual.”

“Let us hope,” She says defeated.

For the next few months, the goddess stays within the Dreaming. Each day that passes, more hope was lost for her husband's return. Doubt and anxiety cloud her mind at the uncertain future.

She looks down at her stomach, a distinguishable bump had made its appearance and she rubs it gently with her hand. The deal with Phanes went through, she is with child. She should be happy right? Except for the obvious fact that Morpheus still had not returned.

Her cat lounges at her feet where she sits and she pets its head. With a trill, it looks at her, similar mercury eyes of her husband stares back. She had no choice but to find him herself.

“Go,” She asks of it. “Go to the waking world, find Morpheus.”

The cat sits up and stretches, hind high in the air. Its claws grips into the plush carpet it rests on. With another stretch to its lower back, it trots off, the jingling sounds of its bell disappearing as it crosses over to the waking world.

All the goddess could do was wait and hope. She runs another anxious hand across her stomach and a tear escapes her.

Lucienne had mentioned it to her in passing a few days ago. The librarian stated that it probably was nothing to worry about, but the conversation had stuck with the goddess since.

The Dreaming is dying.

As much as the Dreaming is hers through marriage, it is suffering without its true ruler in the realm. She could see it in the dying leaves and small cracks of the castle. The ivory dragon that rests above the castle has gotten more restless in the past few weeks. And despite her best efforts to comfort the animal, the dragon did not listen to the Goddess of Husbandry.

This brings up a second concern of hers. The child she carries is as much a part of her as it is the Dreaming’s. It embodies a part of the Dream Lord and if the Dreaming is suffering, there stands to reason that her husband is suffering as well. If both of these entities are suffering, what is to happen to her child?

This child that she already loves until she is forgotten and nothing but stardust and she had been asking for centuries. This child that Morpheus is finally ready to love after the untimely death of his son. She must find Morpheus, and soon.

For the sake of the Dreaming and her child.

Several more weeks pass and her cat had yet to come back. She only hopes that it was due to the difficulty of finding an Endless and not because it got distracted with a family whose heart was big enough to take in a “stray” cat. Each day that passes, she grows significantly weaker. The prayers of her followers still ring in her ears, but she could not leave the Dreaming to help her devotees.

Another war broke out among the humans, the one they call World War II. Less and fewer people were crossing over into the dreaming and slowly, the once beautiful realm was losing its colors. The goddess couldn’t stop the residents of the realm from leaving its gates, the Dreaming was no longer a place they wished to stay. Furthermore, there weren’t enough dreamers for them to bother staying. She only remains thankful for those who decided to stay.

She sits on Morpheus’ throne, the castle colder than ever. Behind her, the once beautiful stained glass had shattered. The Corinthian had still not been captured, or else her husband would have been home and Fiddler’s Green had decided to leave. She runs a hand through her hair at the issues that seem to keep piling up. As she ignores her prayers, her powers start to wane. Fewer and fewer people were still believing in her.

And how could she blame them? She hasn’t made herself present in any of their prayers and with the war, people were less concerned about animals and more about themselves. She sighs.

A sharp pain yanks her out of her thoughts and a scream rips from her throat. She doubles over from the throne and kneels, hunching over on the floor. The pain spreads across her lower abdomen and a shaking hand holds her stomach. Immediately she knew something was wrong and it involved the safety of her child.

For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, too focused on staying conscious. The throne room was empty, her fall echoed around and bounced across the wide walls. When she thought the pain was over, she took in a large breath, inhaling shakily in gulps.

Salvation lasts a few seconds before another wave of pain overwhelms her. It wraps around her like a hot blanket on a sweltering day, sticking to her skin and making her overstimulated. Too much was happening at once and it was almost too hard to bear.

“Lucienne!” She screams between cramps. Tears fall in fat drops onto the floor and wets the hand propping her up.

Lucienne appears quickly, followed closely by Mervin. Hands grab at her weak body and hoist her back onto the throne. Where she had fallen, blood pooled and more fell from between her legs.

Her whole body shakes with shivers and a whimper leaves her.

“My Lady,” Lucienne says with concern. The librarian couldn’t stop from staring at the growing pool of blood below her.

“What do we do?” Mervin asks. Even though he was a glorified janitor, constructor, and destructor for the Dreaming, he didn’t know how to fix this.

“Call for Phanes,” Their Lady said weakly. Sweat begins to appear like morning dew across her forehead. For once, she was grateful for the cool temperature.

“Mervin, take her to his Lord’s chambers,” Lucienne instructs. She doesn’t stay to watch as she sprints to the library.

She flips through leather-bound books, old and new until she finds the correct summoning spell she was looking for. The loyal librarian could only hope that a god would listen to a dream like her.

She hauls the large book into the room her Lady lays in. Labored breathing came from both women, although for two vastly different reasons.

“Forgive me, my lady, but I require your assistance,” Lucienne said next to the goddess’ bed.

The goddess gives her a hand limply and Lucienne starts chanting the words on the page while holding her cold fingers. The wind whirls around them and Mervin holds onto his pumpkin head to not have it knocked off.

Lucienne finishes the spell and looks down. Her Lady was glowing with power but she could not have looked any more weak. Nothing happens for a few bated breaths, only the sound of howling wind around them. Then nothing, not even the sound of crickets could be heard.

Enters Phanes, golden and warm like the sun. He materializes in a cloud of golden dust. He slams his staff down, and his golden snake slithers up from under his robes.

“Who dares summon m-”

“Lord Phanes,” Lucienne interrupts, something she knows she would be punished for, if not for the more important matter at hand.

A glare is thrown her way and softens at the familiar face. Phanes’ eyes travel across the intertwined fingers and land on his friend.

Weak eyes open and meet his. The godly figure is almost too much to stare directly at.

As if understanding what was happening to his friend, he drops the golden light he had been shining. The Dreaming returns to its cold blue, and it was just two deities and two dreams in understanding.

“A new deal,” Phanes announces and the goddess wants to weep again. Judging by how her husband acted the last time she had done this, she was going to be doomed. But the decision was easily made.

“Anything,” she whispers. Her eyelids are starting to feel heavy. She had delivered countless calves, kittens, and cubs, but never another deity. Was she supposed to feel this weak?

Silky scales slide across her feverish skin and she is face to face with Phanes’ serpent.

“Give your child to him, he will keep them safe until they may come to fruition. Until then, you must look after the serpent as if it is of your blood.”

The goddess could barely pay attention but understood in a way without words. She nods in agreement and the relief begins almost immediately.

Pain seeps out of her body, slow, like molasses and her body starts to glow again. Lucienne shields her eyes and peeks through her fingers. The goddess’ stomach glows and deflates.

A small glowing ball releases itself from the warmth of her womb, its dim light is warm and lights the room like a lantern on a foggy night. A weak hand cups it and it sits in the palm of its mother.

“Hello, darling son,” She whispers. The ball stays still, a small high-pitched noise emitting from itself.

The goddess smiles. “Darling daughter, then?” This time, the ball bounces gently a few times in response but otherwise doesn’t do anything.

The golden serpent is slowly making its way up the arm that holds the glowing orb. A tongue flicks out and smells it. Then with a nod from the goddess, the serpent unhinges its mouth and swallows the child whole. The light shines through the crevices of its eyes and ears as it makes its way down the serpent's throat. Eventually, the light dissipates and the serpent looks all the same, save for the bulge in its stomach.

A sense of longing borrows itself into her chest where her heart lies. Quite literally, the light disappears right in front of her. Physically, her pain had been removed, only the dried blood between her legs reminded her of what had happened just moments prior. And yet, a dull pain resides. Something she couldn’t put her finger on, but she could feel it behind her eyes and how it lodges in her throat.

Her gaze is unfocused as she pets the golden snake, her golden snake now, her child. For the rest of the night, she rests and Phanes leaves without a word. Lucienne stays by her side the whole time, eyes only moving when the serpent shifts. Mervin went back to work after a few hours, the castle’s foundation still cracking under their feet. He left with a sorrowful look, well, as sorrowful as a pumpkin head could be.

As the sun rises the next day, the goddess wakes up to not only the snake by her side but the librarian and her long awaited cat. Lucienne wakes up at the first shift that her Lady makes and stands.

“Let me draw you a bath,” She said before any debate.

“Lucienne,” Her Lady calls after her anyway in rejection. All of her handmaidens had left. They were only there to help the goddess under the instruction of the Dream Lord who created them. Without him here, no one would punish them for leaving and not attending his wife.

Still, the librarian doesn’t listen and disappears into the joined bathroom. Meanwhile, the goddess looks down at her cat and raises an eyebrow. It has certainly gotten fatter. And a new name tag was attached to his collar next to his bell.

“Buttons,” She said out loud, reading the new name. At that, the cat perks up and stares back at her disappointed face. “You got distracted on your mission didn’t you?”

She pets his rounder stomach and scratches his head. “Well, they certainly loved you…” The hidden passive-aggressive message was evident.

The cat, now Buttons, doesn’t bother with a response. Instead, it lays back down, flicking its tail aggressively at her comment.

She rolls her eyes. “Did you locate his Lord?”

Buttons rolls onto his back and stretches, belly exposing to her, and opens his mouth in a yawn. “Burgess Manor,” He says and turns his body away from her.

Finally, an answer. She throws the blanket off her body and goes to stand. She looks at her closet, thinking of what to wear to the waking world to retrieve her husband.

“My Lady!” Lucienne exclaims as she walks out of the bathroom. The goddess looks over at her and notices her staring at her dress. She looks down as well and remembers all of the blood that she spilled last night. It had caked itself into the fabric and was still crusted on the inside of her legs.

The librarian’s shock was still on her face when she realizes that her Lady fully intends to go to the waking world looking like that, having overheard the conversation between her and the cat. Lucienne insists she take a bath first and that she would find something for her to wear.

Her Lady doesn’t disagree and disappears into the steaming bathtub that was made for her. She doesn’t regret it for a second the moment she steps in. The warmth was comforting like a mother huddling to keep its cub warm. The water washes away the filths of yesterday and within the embrace of the water, she finally cries.

It’s not a gentle cry, it is hiccups and gasping for breath. The pain of yesterday that she felt behind her eyes and in her throat spills out. Her bathwater which used to smell of apples and cinnamon now turns into a maroon as her blood washes out. It starts to smell of iron and salt and it reminds her of war.

Her hand runs over her stomach and a whimper leaves her again at the lack of the bump she had grown so accustomed to. Logically, she knows that her child, no her daughter, was safe. But, one would have to admit that having their daughter in the stomach of a serpent was a bit unnerving.

A golden head peaks at her over the side of the ceramic bathtub and flicks out its tongue.

She sniffs the last of her tears away and pets its head with her index finger. “I’m sorry for leaving you already, dear daughter.”

The serpent’s stomach had grown twice as large since last night and since this is new territory for her, she must make haste so she may be back in the dream to witness the birth of her daughter.

Before she left, though, she walks into the castle gardens and gets to work. From her fingertips she grows a birch tree, its white branches and muted green leaves fit right into the dying realm around them. She sprouts flowers and brushes for scenery and a bed made of straw under a tunnel that she dug out.

The golden serpent follows her and slithers up her body, wrapping around her curves. When its head was next to hers, it let out a rattling-like noise in agreement with the small open enclosure the goddess had made for it. It slides back down her body and makes it home in the tunnel.

“Mommy will be back,” She whispers to it when it settles in and gives it a quick peck on the top of its head. It flicks its tongue at her and moves further into its nest.

The goddess stands back up and dusts off any dirt that could have gotten on her dress. Lucienne helps her pick out an appropriate attire for the waking world. Something she wouldn’t personally wear, but it certainly helps to blend in with the mortals. She quickly had to locate her husband. After all, she has no idea how long it takes for a snake to incubate a child.

It was easy to find the Burgess Manor when she arrives in the waking world. Everyone who was anyone spoke about the grand magus who managed to capture the devil in his basement. That the devil had granted him eternal life and some other rumors. All she had to do was flaunt a smile and go where the fingers pointed.

The rumors, of course, were mere rumors. The devil? No. Without knowing it, Rodrick Burgess managed to capture something even more powerful. How he had managed to keep him captured was a different question entirely and the goddess had a sneaking suspicion that he had some help.

It was nightfall when she arrives at the gates of the manor. Thousands of people clamor in the front garden, talking amongst themselves. Suddenly, the clothing she had worn was not fit for the environment she was walking into. Using a little bit of her powers, she changes the outlook of her clothing into something else. It was a bit more formal, growing longer and softer to the touch. However, if someone were to squint and stare hard enough, they would be able to see the original dress she had worn.

She weaves her way to the front and listens carefully to the words around her.

“I had arrived this morning, my feet are killing me.”

“Ha, me as well. But anything to get into the manor. I want to see what the Great Magus is hiding.”

“Not to mention the party of your lifetime!” They joke together.

Someone taps her on her shoulder. Another young man was waiting to be let in.

“You are a new face,” He comments and takes her hand. He presses his lips to the back of it. She takes her hand back and wipes it away on the back of her dress while keeping a smile.

“Yes, I wish to see the Great Magus himself.” She half-lies through her teeth. The young gentleman offers an arm to her which she reluctantly takes. Perhaps he will be the key to getting into the manor.

The doors of the manor open and people slowly trickle in. She peers over shoulders into the manor but couldn’t immediately find anything of note that would be dangerous. The warmth of the building fans over her as she enters through the large doors and a breath of relief escapes her.

“Isn’t it everything you could ever dream of?” The gentleman asks. He looks down at her with a smile.

She looks around, the manor was certainly lively. Foods of all kinds sprawl out on tables, fresh flowers almost too sweet to smell, and candlelight flickers and dances from the sudden wind. There were some party tricks as well, the flames seem to sparkle a bit more, bubbles were floating around in the air without popping, and the statues follows her with their eyes. But, they were all small party tricks, nothing to indicate this holier-than-thou man.

Through the buzz of it all, she could feel it. The string of fate that connects her to her husband. It was faint, but it was there and she knew she was in the right place. She just had to find out where.

A man emerges on the top of the stairs to the second floor and opens his arms in a flourish. She frowns at him because there he was, Rodrick Burgess, the man who took her husband. By the end of tonight, she promises herself, there will be no Rodrick Burgess.

“Ow, dang you’ve got a grip on you,” She breaks eye contact with Rodrick when her escort for the evening exclaims out. She releases the iron grip she had wrapped around his lower arm and apologizes.

“I am terribly sorry,” She apologizes. “Actually, I am parched, can you be a gentleman and fetch me some lemonade?” She bats her eyelashes and gives a smile. His face lights up in a blush and runs off to fetch her the lemonade she wants.

As soon as he was out of eyesight, the goddess began moving. She moves between bodies like wind on the beachfront - gracefully, wistfully, but with purpose. She uses her senses to locate where her husband could be. It was like an invisible dance.

When the sense weakens she backtracks, when it strengthens she moves forward. She was so lost in her quest that she almost did not register when she ran into a wool-covered chest. Surprise overtook her face as she looks up, ready to apologize and continue on her way. But she stops when she realizes that the man she bumps into is the very host of the party.

“Rodrick Burgess,” She says almost breathlessly. Oh, how she wants to commit a grievous crime to this mortal.

The old man chuckles above her and grabs onto her shoulders. His fingers are cold when they come into contact with her bare skin and she wants to cringe away from his touch, but he holds on strong.

“You seem like a curious creature, my little dove,” He comments and starts to walk. Without much room to budge, she is reluctant to follow him.

“Yes,” She drawls out much like how Morpheus tends to do. She suddenly acts with interest when she realizes that the bond strength between her and her husband increases. She holds on tighter and presses her body against his arm.

“I heard that the great Magus kept the devil in the basement of his manor. Can we see it?” She fakes a supple voice and looks up at him with an innocent smile.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think a small thing such as yourself would want to see the devil.”

“No!” She belts out, a bit too quickly. But she recovers smoothly. “What I mean to say is, I am far too excited to see him. Please don’t deny me this one pleasure Great Magus.”

“How loathsome,” She thinks to herself.

“Very well, I can’t deny you anything if you keep looking at me like that.” He confirms.

Rodrick Burgess leads her away from the party, down a long and quiet hallway. It is decorated with antique and rare collectibles. The older man talks about each one, dragging on his time that leads to her husband, but she nods along anyway.

She had waited decades to be in the arms of her husband again, a few more minutes surely wouldn’t hurt. Soon, she is led to a dark and demanding set of double doors. Locks and bolts seal it from top to bottom. With a nod of Rodrick’s head, the guards stationed outside open the door slowly and a cold air seeps out and blows her hair back. The basement smells musty of old water and stale air. A cough emits from further down the stairs and she frowns.

“Scared yet, child?” Rodrick says to her mockingly.

She only shakes her head no as she continues down the steps.

The smell grows stronger as she gets closer and she can also make out a small portion of dirt and sand amidst it all. Despite it, the air was crisp and cold, suitable for a stone basement.

A light emits from the end of the long staircase downwards and she can’t stop her jaw unhinging as she finally sets her eyes on her husband. Tears well up in her eyes as they dart across the room.

Arches supported the basement throughout the floor and a moat still separates between her and her husband. A singular fluorescent light is cast on him in a glass prison as if he were some circus animal on display. Below the glass prison were some sort of gold runic markings and even from far away, she could feel the real magic emitting from them.

Rodrick releases her hold on him and turns to the two guards on duty that night. “You two may go,” He instructs, and the two leave without debate.

At the sound of his voice, Dream opens his eyes but remains in his laid position. His gaze pierces into his corrupt heart, if he even had one left, but quickly notices his wife by his side. With this, he sits up and gently places a hand on the glass barrier.

“Would you look at that!” Rodrick boasts. “He moves, he doesn’t do that much. Perhaps he has feelings for a pretty thing like you.”

The goddess doesn’t hear him and walks up to the glass cage in a trance. How does she free him? Tears fall restlessly down her face and her stature dejects. She snaps out of her trances on the small bridge above the stagnant water when a rough hand squeezes her upper arms.

“Stop, you must not get any closer. He is trying to seduce you into releasing him!” Rodrick hashes out between gritted teeth.

She opens her mouth to tell him something, anything, to release her husband but stops when she hears Dream’s voice again.

“Wife,” He calls simply and her body fills with all of the love and adoration she had been missing for decades.

Rodrick’s grip tightens at his voice, the first time he remembers hearing it. With a shocked face, he looks down at the woman in his grip. “Wife?!” He screams at her furiously.

She takes a deep breath and steels herself, ripping herself away from his bruising grip, and stands between him and her husband. The tears had dried and only anger left in its wake.

“The one before you is Daleena, Goddess of Husbandry, Mother of Agriculture and Protector of Animals, Saint of Farmers, Queen of the Dreaming, wife of Dream of the Endless. You face me now, mortal.”

Wind swirls, somehow, in the basement but it is the least of Rodrick’s worries. He plants himself firmly as the wind picks up and sand envelops the two of them in a vortex of anger.

“I have captured something more than a god! I have an Endless!” He points a finger at her, eyes scrutinizing. “What makes you think you can defeat me? The Great Magus Rodrick Burgess?”

Walking a few steps forward, her shepherd’s crook materializes in her hand, the bell jingling violently in the wind. Her extremities start to glow their familiar light as she musters power. She points the staff at Rodrick as billets of wheat start growing around his feet and crawl up his legs, the nice wool of his pants long forgotten against the harsh stalks of the plants. The plants bloom as it sucks the life away from the very thing they grew on.

Rodrick starts chanting in Greek.

“Prostasía,” He chokes out. “Prostasía.” He chants again and he breathes easier. “Prostasía.” He chants one more time and he’s back to standing at his full height. The plants that were wrapped around him wither away and fell into dust, sucked into the sand vortex around them.

The goddess frowns, she did not realize how much power she had lost until now when a simple protection chant could stave off her attacks. Rodrick lunges at her, hands open and clawed, ready to grab onto any piece of her clothing. In turn, she slams her crook into the ground and a fissure opens up, but not before he can shove her further and her body slams into the wall of the glass prison. The fissure separates the two opponents away from each other and Rodrick steps back before he falls into the Earth.

She braces herself on the glass wall at the impact and loses her breath for a moment. She could feel the warmth of her husband’s hand and she turns away from Rodrick to look at him. His hand was aligned with her own, so close, only inches apart.

“The runes, my love,” Morpheus tells her. She looks down at looks at the graphics that surround them, the sand had erased some of it through the abrasive nature of itself. The magic within the runes would still be strong if not for the defiant smudge she creates with her foot, just in time for the fissure to finish opening. With a final look at her husband, she walks closer to the fissure, pulling the sand vortex smaller so it was just her and Rodrick again.

From the fissure glows a golden light, soft and merciful but quickly overshadowed by the growing dust. The light expands as the golden serpent which holds her daughter emerges. It had grown in size since the last time she had seen it. Its length and mass have nearly tripled in size and the baby bulge it used to flaunt was now merely a small bump.

Rodrick’s stare grows higher and higher as the snake continues to emerge, it stares at the man, tongue flicking angrily at him for daring to harm the goddess. The snake lunges, all fangs and dripping venom, its large scales clattering against each other like gold coins. Rodrick moves to the side and the serpent misses. It hisses in retaliation and comes around again, this time wrapping its body around the legs of the Great Magus.

Panic sets in as the serpent starts to constrict around the man and he can feel his pulse pounding against his head and the blood circulation gets cut off. The bones in his knees pop as they press together.

“Father!” A young boy’s voice screams across the vortex and the goddess sees a glint of silver cross into the vortex arena.

The serpent is halfway up Rodrick’s body when the goddess notices the sharp dagger that Rodrick now possesses. He rises it high in the air and with a large gasp plunges it into the flesh of the serpent. The golden scales provide little to no protection against the artifact.

“No!” She screams and takes a step forward, only to be stopped by the protective tail of the serpent.

The metal hisses as it melts against the golden scales, melting the scales together until they become smooth around the wound. Rodrick slides again and again until the weapon becomes too slippery with blood and he loses grip. The snake is now a mosaic of gold and red as it tightens one last time.

“Curse… you…” Rodrick strains out, his face turning purple as the last bit of air leaves him. The serpent weakens and falls in a slump like an inanimate rope and the sand around them falls like rain.

The goddess leaps over the fissure and after making sure the man is dead runs to the head of the golden serpent. Its eyes were dim, mouth agape as its muscles weakens and she can no longer feel it breathing on her skin when she places a hand above its nostrils.

“No, no no,” She mumbles to herself. She grabs her dress up and away from her feet as she makes her way down the length of the serpent. When she reaches where she last saw the small baby bump, she runs her hand along its underside, soon becoming slick with cooling blood.

She finds a particular cut that was deeper than normal and when she sticks her hand in there, they grab around a small appendage. A cry of relief leaves her lips as she digs deeper. She pulls her baby from the dying body and cradles it to her body. Golden scale imprints are decorated across her arms and legs and a few more along the spine of her back.

Her breath hiccups as silence fills the air. She pats her daughter’s back and wipes her mouth clean and panic seeps into her bones when still she remains quiet.

Morpheus appears behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She turns to him, tears streaking down her neck.

“Crying, why-why isn’t she crying?!” She wails and clutches her child harder against her chest.

Morpheus hugs her from behind and holds the two of them to his chest.

“Y/N,” He calls her name, her real name. Not her titles, or what the mortals call her, but the name given to her since her creation.

She weeps into his form, salty tears mixing with blood and the amniotic fluid that covers her child. Her tears fall into her daughter’s mouth and feed into the child her grief, regret, and guilt as well as the hope she still had in her.

A soothing hand pets her and the silence disappears. Loud wailing comes from below and her eyes shoot open. Her daughter was finally crying, her hands in fists as they move around in the air.

“Praises,” She sobs again, this time tears of joy. Her child's eyes peel open and smiles as she grabs at her mother’s hair.

Morpheus smiles, a rare one, all teeth showing as he touches his daughter’s head gently. The three, now a family, return home to the Dreaming. There will be more to do, especially for Morpheus but for now, a small victory lies within the hope that is their daughter.

Extra:

“Well I’ll be baffled, bamboozled, and befuddled,” Phanes says, hands on his hip and his staff leaning against one of the walls of the basement.

He stares at his serpent covered in dried blood and dearly departed, lying alone on the cold basement floor.

“Look at how they massacred my boy!” He screams to no one in particular, arms out in disbelief.

He lets out a huff and crosses his arms. “I’ll let you borrow my snake, blah, blah, blah, take care of it like it’s your own, meh, meh, meh,” He mocks.

Phanes runs a hand across the top of the snake’s head and watches as the dried blood rehydrates and moves thickly back into the cuts. The gnashes done by the weapon stitch itself back close and the gold scales return to their original form.

The snake shrinks smaller and smaller until it is back to its original size. At which, it perks up and flicks a tongue out in thanks to its god.

“All right, let’s go,” Phanes says with a sigh as if this was a mundane chore. He extends out a hand for the serpent to slither up to.

“I am never making a deal with those two ever again, that was crazy.” He says to his snake.

The snake flicks its tongue again and rattles the scales on its back.

“Ohh, that’s nice that she made you an enclosure.” He responds, then remains silent as the snake says something else. “What do you mean she forgot to put mice in the enclosure for you to eat?!”

#morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus x reader smut #the sandman #the sandman x reader #dream of the endless #dream #dream x reader #dream x reader smut #angst with a happy ending #light angst #the sandman fanfic #morpheus x wife!reader #morpheus x wife reader #dream of the endless smut #dream of the endless x reader

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whitneysgang2019 · 8 months

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Heartbeat

Onceler x Shy Fem Reader SMUT

First of all, I'm so sorry, I am weak and have fallen for the Tumblr sexy man *but he do be kinda hot tho*. So being the weak, cringy little thing I am, I now feel entitled to write shameless smut of a non eco-terrorist because I can. Yeah so this takes place before his greed era when he is a sweet, little baby, but has some slight greed tendencies. Also this is kind of a little different from the movie events wise but not by much. The reader lives in the forest (mega cottagecore aesthetic) and is very shy and secluded, but somehow managed to become friends with the Onceler. And when the time came to meet his family, things got a little crazy. Minors this isn't for you, please walk away. Enjoy my dears, and I'm sorry again for the cringe, I'm so sorry.

*side note: I started this like four months ago and dropped it for a bit, but I didn't want to abandon this project so yeah, here you go*

WARNING: 18+, Minors DNI, extravert and introvert dynamic, flirting, friends to lovers, angst, dysfunctional family, arguments (not with Onceler), confrontation, reassurance, confession, porn with plot, Slight inexperience, breath play, neck kissing, bulge palming, fingering, oral (f receiving), slightly rough sex (p in v), comfort, literally the most loving man, whimpering, admiration kink, creampie, cuddles.

You watched as raindrops pitter pattered against the cold glass window of your little cottage. The rain had started earlier in the day, about the time you got back from your venture to the neighboring town not far outside the forest. The day started off so nicely, the sun was bright and there's wasn't a cloud in that big blues sky. You were actually hoping to get some gardening in today, and maybe a walk around the forest foraging some flowers to decorate your home with, but the day seemed to have other plans. On your way home, dark gloomy clouds set in and the cold rain began to fall. Sighing heavily you stepped away from the window in your living room and made your way to the kitchen, changing your plans to baking a pie or two. Pulling out one of your cookbooks you flipped to a basic mixed berry pie recipe and gathered the ingredients to start. Humming lightly to yourself as you made the dough for the crust, you thought you might make a double batch for a friend that lived half way across the forest.

He called himself the Onceler, he had moved to the Truffula forest almost a year ago, although it seemed like he'd been there a lot longer than that all things considered. He came to the forest with a small wagon, his mule Melvin, and big aspirations of success for his invention that he called a Thneed.

The two of you didn't converse much when he first arrived, considering you weren't much of a people person. In fact you often made it a point to not interact with people if you could help it. Having to talk and interact with people made you incredibly nervous and uncomfortable at times, so you kept to yourself. You preferred to stay at home and keep up around the house, do your crafts, and tend to your garden. It was easier for you to avoid conversations and be alone to try and overcome your deathly shyness on your own. It was so bad at times you thought for sure someone would make fun of you or point out all things that were wrong with how shy you were, but you carried on as best you could. You found peace and comfort in being alone, but there were times you wish you had someone to talk to. Being unable to break out of the tough, shy exterior made it almost impossible to make friends, it didn't stop the Onceler though.

The first day he moved to the forest he approached you with the upmost of confidence and was quite friendly towards you. When he saw how reserved and shy you were he backed off a bit and respected your need for space as he took his time getting to know who you were, not wavering his confidence whatsoever.

And, slowly but surely, you opened up to him. He would stop by your cottage daily whenever he'd go to town, checking up on you making sure you were well, and you'd do the same for him. You'd often bring him baked goods or fresh produce from your garden as a thank you for his kindness.

The two of you would spend a decent amount of time together when he wasn't working on trying to sell his Thneeds. Often sharing tea and talking about life was probably one of your biggest past times with him. Things you had a passion for, town life, and your life experiences were the most discussed topic when you were together. His big plans of becoming a successful entrepreneur were always on the forefront of his mind, and he was ambitious to meet those goals he had set for himself. You had to admit it was commendable in some aspects, the amount of work he put into his Thneeds and his efforts to hopefully get his products noticed were really something. Although you didn't agree with how he went about getting the materials for his Thneeds. Cutting down and using the tuffs of the Truffula tree wasn't what you expected nor really wanted to happen. You mentioned to him a few times how it made you upset and even asked if he'd promise not to cut down anymore of the trees out of respect for the forest. To which he said he'd oblige, and from that point on he hadn't cut anymore down.

After some time passed the both of you became incredibly comfortable with one another, to the point where you both confided in each other for just about everything. Whether it was on walks to town, while you picked away at your garden, or nights when you'd stargaze with him. You told him about all the reasons why you were so reserved and why you wanted to be alone. About all the people who abandoned you in your past, the ones who were supposed to be there for you, and how they just drifted away. It was easier not getting attached to people so you wouldn't be let down when they couldn't be there anymore. So you closed yourself off and away from the world, creating a little bubble around yourself. But he never judged you for what you did to protect yourself from something like that happening again. And he'd find himself doing what he could to reassure that he wouldn't be like the others, that he'd always be there for you no matter what.

There were days when he'd let down his happy go lucky attitude and tell you some of the more depressing parts of himself and his past. Just as you did for him. How he was afraid he would never be successful, and that his mother was right about him. He never had the best relationship with his mother, older brothers, or anyone in his family. He was often looked at as the black sheep of the family and was constantly belittled and made fun of for his ideas and ambitions. His mother never truly had any faith in him that he'd make it, and the last thing she and his family did was laugh at him as he left the only home he ever knew. It never faltered him though, no matter how bleak things seemed, he never gave up hope that things would work out. Even if it seemed no one else was going to support him or his ideas. And that's when you assured him you'd be there to support him along the way, through thick and thin.

As you made the filling for the pie you smiled to yourself while humming a light tune. Thinking about how nice it was to have a friend like him and how sweet he was to you. He'd always compliment you whenever you two were together, saying how nice you looked or how amazing you were. He never had anything bad to say about you and was always kind and respectful. You never had anyone like that in your life prior to him, and it was a really nice change of pace for you. Which in turn made you like him, a lot. Probably more than friends should like each other, and he seemed to reciprocate it from what you could tell. The way you two acted with each other sometimes wasn't really how people who were 'just friend's" acted. You two would secretly exchange looks of admiration while the other wasn't looking, the lingering touches whenever you hugged one another, and how he looked so deeply into your eyes from time to time during your conversations. Just the way he made you feel was something you couldn't explain and it was exciting, but scary all the same. Shaking off that bubbling feeling, you focused on finishing the filling and assembled the pie. You lightly covered the pie with the top crust pinched the edge's together, and sliced a decorative pattern in the dough before putting the pie in the oven.

...

You walked down a beaten path to the Onceler's home, umbrella in hand and a basket with the pie as well as some homemade jam. The rain lightly and rhythmically fell around you, making you a bit sleepy as you walked on. The little puddles that formed at the edges of the trail reflected your form, you looked down to see joyful eyes and a red face staring back at you. Turning your gaze back up to the path trying to ignore the sight of yourself. It wasn't long before the Onceler's home came into view and your heart began to beat faster and faster as you approached the door. A light fog from the rain surrounded the vicinity, giving the disproportionate structure almost and eery effect. You quietly walked up the steps as you heard the tune of a soft, solemn guitar playing with a slight hint of jazz. This was a tune you heard more than once, it usually meant that day trying to sell his Thneeds went especially bad. Preparing yourself for him to be in bad mood, you gently knocked on his door,

"Who is it," he asked very clearly irritated. You cleared your throat as you spoke up,

"It's me."

"The doors open," he said, his voice softening a little knowing it was you coming to see him. You closed your umbrella and opened the door quietly so you wouldn't interrupt his playing. You stepped into his home, softly closed the door behind you and set your umbrella aside before making your way into the kitchen. His home was a bit small and cramped, but you didn't mind it too much, it was manageable. You looked over to the Onceler, he was slouched in one of his kitchen chairs, feet propped up on a chair across from him as he strummed the chords. His eyes flickered up to yours for moment and shot you a sweet but defeated smile before looking back down at the strings. You sat the basket down on the side counter before cautiously approaching the table,

"May I," you gestured towards the empty chair next to him. Not looking up from his guitar he hummed lightly in approval. You pulled the chair out and sat down next to him, your hands resting on the edge of the wooden table. The two of you sat there for a minute, listening to the chords he strummed.

"Rough day?" He stopped playing for a moment at your question,

"Yeah you could say that," he said bitterly before strumming again. You let another minute pass before asking him softly,

"You wanna talk about it?" You asked kindly looking up at him. He stopped once again and set the guitar aside, crossing his arms while looking away from you. He took a deep breath, as if he was trying to keep himself from screaming at you in frustration. A few moments passed before he spoke in a strained manner,

"It just keeps getting harder and harder Y/N. Everyday I'm out there, rain, sun or snow, and no one listens to me. No one wants to hear what I have to say about my Thneeds. You and I both know it's a great product, and how it can improve everyone's lives, change the world. But they don't care. And it just feels like I'm wasting my time at this point," he said giving a heavy sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He continued pouring his heart out to you, saying how his family was right about him and how it felt pointless to continue trying to achieve his goal. He just wanted to see some resolve from his efforts, and to be able to prove his family wrong. You reached over to him and laid your hand on his shoulder,

"Hey, listen hun. I know I don't exactly what it's like doing what you do. Being out there trying to be somebody and bring something good to this world. And you knew it wasn't going to be easy Once, but that didn't stop you. You knew there were going to be days that seem harder than others, but you still kept going. I know the day is coming where someone is gonna say how amazing your Thneed is and your life is gonna go in an great direction, I just know it. Today was a bad day, but just think about what tomorrow could bring Once, it could be the day you become successful. Just think about it, ok sweetheart," you said taking your hand off his shoulder. He turned to you with a soft smile on his face as he removed his legs from the chair adjacent from him and hastily stood up from his. He took a few step towards you and leaned down, giving you a tight, compassionate hug.

"You're right, I just need to be more patient and try to stay positive. Thank you Y/N. You always know what to say, and how to make me feel alright again. I couldn't ask for a better friend," he said. You wrapped you arms loosely around him and smiled,

"Of course Once, I'll always be here for you." He let go of you and pulled you up from your chair as he walked over to the side counter where the basket was.

"What kind of goodies did you bring me today," he asked excitedly as he peeked into the basket.

"Mixed berry pie and some jam," you said cheerfully. The Onceler reached up into a cupboard and he pulled out two plates as well as some utensils for the both of you while you put the kettle on. He cut you both decent sized pieces of pie and drizzled a little bit of jam on top of each slice with a little sliver spoon. When the kettle roared out a sheer whistle you took it off the stove and poured it onto two empty mugs with a green tea bag in each. He handed you your plate and you made your way back to the table where you sat down and conversed over pie and tea for the remainder of that rainy afternoon.

...

Weeks past since your last visit with the Onceler, but your advice seemed to have worked well. He was still going out to town and trying to get his Thneeds to sell. Each and every day he was out there, and when he wasn't in town he was at home tending to his property. He would still drop in to check on you to make sure you were doing alright, as he always did. But it seemed like there was hardly any time to visit during those few weeks. Just both of you trying to keep up with your individual lives seemed to be more of a priority. You had to get your garden tilled and seeds as well as seedlings planted for the harvest in the fall. And he was more gungho than ever to start his business.

The sun was shining and the heat was hot as you dug holes for your beet seedlings. You tilled up the dirt multiple times a few days ago and plotted out where everything was going. You kneeled down into the freshly pulled up earth and began planting your seedlings. Getting a few rows in when you heard a noise coming from across the hill that broke you out of your rhythm. You wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your gloved hand as you looked up into the distance. You saw the Onceler running swiftly, and very clumsily towards you with a massive grin on his face. You stood up and smiled as you waved to him as he approached you, he waved back very haphazardly as he continued towards you at full speed, shouting incoherently. Thinking he'd slow down before getting to you, you stood in your spot awaiting him, but that wasn't the case. Before you could process what was fully happening he was running onto your garden, took you into his arms and spun you around joyously,

"I did it Y/N. I really really did it," he cried out to you as he set you back on to the soft dirt, not letting go of you.

"What did you do, Once," you asked, a bit taken back by his sudden actions. His tight grip loosened as he looked you in the eyes, his bright blue eyes beaming,

"My Thneeds, I finally sold my Thneeds. Everyone loves them, and they want me to make more of them. You were right Y/N, all I had to do was stay positive and persistent. And it all paid off," the man was practically squealing at how happy and proud he was with himself as he hugged you tightly again,

"Thank you, thank you, thank you Y/N, I couldn't have don't it without you." You hugged him back and smiled,

"Of course Once, I'm so happy for you," you said to him happily. You really meant it when you said that to him, after all of the hardships he endured and the time he put into his craft, he finally got the resolve he wanted.

He kept you in his embrace for a few more moments before letting go of you and taking a few steps back. He took in the sight of you, his eyes going wide for a split second then softening again. Your knees dirtied from the soil of the garden, a loose short sleeved t-shirt hung loosely from your shoulders, and the slightest remnants of sweat from the heat laid across your skin. Your hair put up very messily, and bits of your clothes and skin covered in dirty hand prints as well as smears from your gloves, forgetting they were on your delicate hands.

You chuckled nervously and tucked a few stray strands of hair behind your ear as he stared at you admiringly. This wasn't uncommon for him to do every now and then, he'd just look at you with a silly little smile and loving eyes. You didn't mind it though, it made you feel special. He snapped back to reality after a moment, a dusting of pink creeping upon his face,

"Oh, well, I think this calls for a celebration don't you think? When you're finished with your garden you're more than welcome to come by my place if you'd like. We can have some supper and a drink or two," he said not looking you in the eye, his face growing a darker shade of pink. Nodding in response with a soft smile,

"I'd really like that Onceler, " you said quietly looking at him with a genuine smile. He returned the smile and gave you a quick hug,

"Alrighty I'll see you in a bit" he said before making his way home, practically bolting to get started on some more Thneeds. You chuckled slightly to yourself, finding his persistence and interest in this endeavor so sweet. You smiled to yourself once more before resuming your previous activities, settling into the soft soil and planting your seedlings.

After you finished with your garden, you went into your cottage to wash up before going to the Onceler's home. As you walked to the sink, you heard a harsh crashing coming from the forest and some of the animals screeching in fear. You ran outside to see a set of freshly dug up tire tracks not far from your home headed to the Oncelers. You rushed down the path to his home, an unsettling feeling forming in the pit of your stomach as you saw his home come into view. You saw a run down camper van parked haphazardly in front of his home and there were a fair amount of people crowded out in the front. You saw Onceler talking with them, a pained smile on his face as you approached him. When he saw you he smiled and approaching you,

"Hey," he said hugging you tightly before letting go. You looked at him, to the few people gathered in front of his house, then back at him confused.

"Uh hey," you said quietly, looking at the people behind him with an unsure expression. He looked at you confused for a moment before realizing what you were doing. He guided you over to the group of people, you hesitated, but did your best to hide it as he introduced you to them.

"This is Y/N, she's my neighbor and a dear friend of mine," he said kindly as he placed a hand in your shoulder. You gave them a curt wave and a half smile. Although they didn't seem impressed with you whatsoever. The women with glasses have a you a condescending sneer while speaking,

"I see, is she always covered in dirt or is that just today's attire?" They all snickered at her remark. You didn't realize you were still in your work clothes when your rushed there. A blush crept on to your face as you looked down in embarrassment. The Onceler caught on to your embarrassed state quickly rebutted,

"Y/N has been tending to get garden recently and I invited her up here after she finished. She just didn't have time to change is all. But anyways Y/N, this is my family," he said with false confidence. He gestured to the woman with glasses and poofy blonde hair,

"This is my mother, Isabella." She gave you the fakest smile you'd ever seen, clearly unimpressed with what she saw in you. He then gestured to the taller more robust woman in purple and the short man in the suit,

"Aunt Grizelda and Uncle Ubb," both of them seemed more or less indifferent towards you. And the finally to the two twins, who were both going you devilish grins,

"And my brothers Brett and Chett." You moved slightly closer to the Onceler, feeling a bit uncomfortable in your current situation with these people he called family. He told you about how they treated him, so you weren't exactly thrilled to be in their presence. Wondering why they decided to reappear in the Oncelers life you asked,

"What brings you all the way out here?"

Isabella seemed to be a bit taken back and slightly offended by the question. Snidely responding with,

"We came to see our little Oncie, after hearing about his success with his invention we thought we owed him a little visit." You 'hmmed' at her response, knowing that was only half true. She walked up to you and the Onceler, completely ignoring you when she said,

"Oncie dear, it's been so long since we've seen each other. We'd all love to stay for a while and catch up with you. Maybe talk a little bit about your amazing invention," she said pulling him away from you. He looked back towards you as she rambled, seeing the disappointment in your face as you turned to go back home. He loosened away from his mother's grip as he reassured her he'd be back,

"Hey hey," he said softly as he caught up with you. He stood in front of you, placing his hands on your shoulders gently, trying to get you to look at him. You looked up at him, giving him a falsified smile,

"It's ok Once, they're your family. Go spend some time with them. We'll have that celebratory drink some other time." He looked at you with a somber expression,

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah Once, I'm sure," you said as you took his hands off your shoulders gently and gave them a slight pat. You nodded before giving you a quick hug,

"Soon, I promise." He let go of you and headed back towards his home, waving you goodbye. You waved back, not realizing how drastically everything was about to changes between you two.

...

A month or so passed, and his family's camper van still nestled in it's spot from when it first arrived. From what you could tell the Onceler had turned it and his home into a shop for making as well as distributing Thneeds. Not that it was the main issue in the forefront of your mind, no, it was something else entirely.

The few times you went to visit, his mother was always interjecting herself into your conversations and taking control as quickly as she could. Often making the excuse that her Oncie was incredibly busy, or that he had other things to attend to that were more important. Frankly you were getting just about fed up with her always keeping the Onceler away, forcing him to make more Thneeds, and making you feel inadequate comparatively to her and his family. How you're shyness was a weakness and that you'd need to grow a backbone if you were ever going to make it in the world. And how your lifestyle wasn't as preferable to high class living like theirs, if you'd call it that. Knit picking the little things about you she didn't like, how you dressed, the way you styled your hair, how you carried yourself and what you took interest in. Which in turn made you keep some distance between you and the Onceler, or more than you would've cared for anyways. You just felt that his mother had complete control over the entire situation.

Nothing about you was appealing to her. She thought that since the Onceler had became as successful as he was, he deserved better. Even though before his success she didn't care what happened to him, he was just a disappointment to their family.

It was to the point where you didn't know if you could keep it together. To not scream at her for the way she was acting, but you needed to stay calm and collected for the Onceler, it wouldn't be fair to him if you lost it on his insufferable mother.

You took a deep breath as you finished getting ready to go have those celebratory drinks with the Onceler. He was able to get away from his work and his family and invite to his place for supper and drinks to which you happily agreed. You put on a cute floral dress the hugged your form in all the right places, but left enough to the imagination for someones wandering eyes. You finished with some light makeup, a spritz of honey like perfume, and grabbed your basket with some freshly picked berries and wine.

The walk was short and sweet as you tried keep your thoughts focused on what you were looking forward to that evening. Just a nice, calm, quiet dinner and a couple drinks with your friend. That's what you were hoping for anyways if you were lucky. You walked up the steps, your heart beating rapidly as you approached the door and knocked lightly, hoping not to catch his families attention. The door opened almost as quickly as you knocked, the Onceler in the other side, looking a bit disheveled as he motioned you inside. You stepped inside hastily as he closed the door behind him. You looked to the table, two platefuls of pancakes topped off with butter, two empty glasses waiting to filled with the wine you brought, and a candelabra centerpiece. You smiled as you set the berries and wine on the table before turning to him,

"You did a good job Once," she said as she walked over to give him a hug. He smiled back, he looked tiredly at her as he hugged her back lightly.

"Thank you," he let go and pulled out the chair for her. She sat down and he pushed her in closer to the table and sat adjacent from her, looking at her with admiration in his eyes,

"You look lovely," he said quietly as he popped open the wine you brought and poured both your glasses half full.

"Thank you Once,"you said as you took your glass in hand, looking down and lightly swishing at the rosy pink liquid. You looked up at him and rose your glass to him,

"To you and your Thneeds Once." He clinked his glass gently against yours, drinking down the sweet burn. The two of you ate your super and caught back up, not that there's was anything new on your end of things, just tending to your garden. But it was a different situation for the Onceler. His business was absolutely booming, he was making and selling more Thneeds than he ever imagined. Money was flowing in abundantly and he loved it. Eveything that was happening to him was exactly what he wanted, its what he dreamed of when he first moved into the forest. But he wanted more,he wanted to bigger and bigger his productions, his distribution, and expand everything. You smiled forcefully, you were happy for him truly, but there was something about his plans that didn't sit right with you. It all felt wrong.

As you continued your conversation with him you heard the door slam open and his mother flamboyantly made her presence known. You groaned internally as she shouted,

"Oncie dear, Brett and Chett," she stopped mid sentence when she saw you, eyeing you down with an unimpressed grin.

"Oh goodness, I hope I'm not interrupting anything important," she said sarcastically as she walked over to the Onceler. You looked at him with a look he'd never seen before, bitterness.

"Well actually mother we were-" She refused to let him finish as she pulled his chair out and pulled him up trying to push him out the door,

"I'm sure it's not as important as talking about your business endeavors dearie. I'm sure you're little friend here doesn't mind, right?" She asked snidely raising her brows maliciously. You sighed in frustration as you stood up from the table and brushed your dress down,

"I guess not." You took a few steps away from the table and began to gather your things when she made the nastiest comment you'd ever heard her say about you,

"That's what I thought, you're a lot smarter than I figured you to be. Knowing that my Oncie has more important things to do than run around with a silly little girl. And if I may dearie, next time maybe wear something a little less revealing next time you come around here. If I didn't know any better I'd think you were trying to seduce my precious Oncie." She snickered in a sour tone.

That statement did it in for you. You had it with that woman and her antics. After taking so much disrespect from her for almost a month, you couldn't stand it anymore.

You were done.

You and the Onceler had stared at her in disbelief, you turned your attention her and snapped,

"How dare you? How are you say something so awful and disrespectful to a woman you don't know? In your entire time of staying here all you've done is pick me apart, nothing about me is good enough for you," you paused. Her face dropped, apauled by your statement. She was about to speak, but your cut her off as you resumed your vent.

"But that's not even the worst of it, the fact that you've been keeping the Onceler under your thumb and away from the people who actually care about him is absolutely awful. You didn't give a shit about him until he became successful with his Thneeds, only then did you run running to his aid. While I have been here with him since day one, I've been the one who's had to comfort him when he had a bad day. I'm the one who told him not to give up and that his efforts would pay off. And I'm the one who's supported him through everything he's been through, and I'm not just talking about his business endeavors," you took a deep breath, feeling the anger truly bubbling over and spilling out infront of the Onceler and his mother before you took a dangerous leap and said,

"You are a bad mother Isabella. And frankly you should be ashamed of yourself." You said as you gathered your basket and stormed out the door. Leaving an astonished Onceler and his fuming mother behind.

...

The walk home that evening was a brutal one. Angrily stomping down the path and slamming the door behind you as soon as you got home. You washed your face and put on a comfy T-shirt and shorts, wanting to just spend the rest of the evening being as comfortable as possible. Letting the events sink in, you realized how terrible you must have looked in front of the Onceler while you ripped apart his mother. You sighed, trying to figure out how you were going to face him after all that happened earlier that evening.

Sitting in your chair you had a cup of chamomile tea in hand as you read peacefully, trying to clear your head before you head a gentle knock at your door. You got up and approached the door slowly, looking out the window see a familiar face.

"What are you doing here Once," you asked through the door. Not that you were bothered by his company, you just felt now probably wasn't the best time for a visit considering the circumstances.

"Can I come in?" He asked kindly. You opened the door with a tired sigh, motioning him inside and out of the darkness.

He sat at the small kitchen table as you brewed up a pot of tea, placing the mug in front of him as you sat adjacent, the soft light from a table side lamp was the only source illuminating the room. You both sat in silence for a little while, listening to the tick tock of the clock and sipped your tea respectively. You cleared your throat and broke the silence as you asked,

"Why are you here Onceler?" His expression dropped when he heard the usage of his full name. The only time you used it was when you were upset or serious, which meant this situation didn't look good in his eyes. He set his mug down and rested his elbows on the table as he looked at you,

"I want to apologize to you for this evening," he paused before he continued. You perked up when he apologized and listened intently as he continued,

"What happened at my home should never have happened. It should've just been you and me enjoying a meal and a celebratory drink, not my mother interrupting and insulting you as she did. And I'm so truly sorry I never noticed how awful she's been to you, if I had known sooner I would've intervened. But now that I know, I've taken care of the problem, I had a very stern talk with her and she wont be bothering you anymore, I promise Y/N," he said with heartfelt eyes. You looked at him a bit dumbfounded, not expecting to have this conversation after such a horrendous evening, but you weren't complaining in the slightest. You smiled at him as you sipped your tea,

"You don't know how much I appreciate that Once, but you didn't have to do that. I could've defended myself just fine." He cut in abruptly,

"No I wanted to, the way she spoke to you wasn't ok at all. And if I'm being honest I felt obligated to defend you," he said as he anxiously placef his hand behind his head, a dusting of pink littered his cheeks as he continued.

"What she said about you really irked me, calling you a silly little girl and how you dressed inappropriately, I couldn't stand it." You looked at him confused, not sure why he was so upset and angry over his mother's words. Sure what she said was terrible, but it shouldn't have been enough to get him as fired up as he was.

"It made you that upset?" You asked as you finished your tea and stood up to collect the mugs you used, putting them in the sink to wash later.

"Of course it did, you're my best friend Y/N and I care about you...a lot" he said as he stood and opened his arms to you. You approached him and hugged him softly, feeling his arms wrap around you tenderly. You smiled and your heart began to race,

"I'm so happy to have you Once. You always make everything so much better for me and I can't even begin to tell you how much I appreciate it," you said as you tightened your arms around him. He brought his hand to your head and rested it there,

"I'm happy to have you Y/N. You make everything feel like a dream sometimes," he said softly as he pulled away and looked into your eyes. His face a deep crimson and his pupils wide and full as he looked at you, slowly leaning forward. You blushed as the space between you got smaller and smaller, making you're heart race as you placed your hands on his polyester vest,

"What are you doing Once?"

"I..I," he stammered as his eyes darted to the side, breaking contact with yours as he tried to find an explanation for his actions.

"Once?" Your voice was sweet and caring, and whatever else was in that tone of yours broke him down.

"There's something I should tell you," he started looking away in embarrassment before he continued once more.

"I've liked you for a really long time now, and I just never really knew how to tell you. I didn't want to ruin our friendship and make things awkward between us, so I just kept it to myself. But after tonight I realized how much you mean to me, and I don't wanna hide it anymore. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

You smiled as your face turned a bright red, now realizing that the man you had feelings for all this time felt the same way you did. Your hand wandered to his cheek and rested there, him leaning into your touch.

"I understand what you're saying very well Once," you grinned as you looked deeper into his icy blue orbs. Your heart raced against your breastplate harshly as his hand reached for your waist.

"You feel the same way?" He asked in a whisper. You nodded as you pulled him into a tight embrace. Feeling his hands cautiously wrap around your waist as he hugged back. Your hands lightly ran down his back, causing him to shiver involuntarily. You were about to pull back when he firmly held you in place, it wasn't aggressive, but enough to let you know he wanted you to stay there. His hot breath on your sensitive neck caused you to shiver slightly as you tried to steady your breathing. He took note of your body's reactions and he moved to face you,

"Is everything ok Y/N? You're shaking," he said in concern as he looked at you with a caring gaze. You nodded in response,

"I'm alright Once. Just," your face grew hot in embarrassment as you tired to find the right words to explain what was happening. You took a deep, jagged breath as you whispered,

"The way you were breathing against my neck, it felt nice." He gave you a devilish smile as he lowered his head back to your neck and let out a deep exhale. Your hands gripped at his back as you held in the need to moan, that was until he planted a soft kiss on your now ultra sensitive skin. You let out a low groan in response to his actions, feeling your self control dwindle as his kisses become more passionate against your neck. You gave out needy whimpers as you felt his nether regions begin to stiff against you thigh. Your hands roamed down as he began to playfully nip at your neck, causing you to moan out loudly.

"Once," you whimpered against his ear. He chuckled against your wet skin,

"So sensitive," he teased as he began to move his hands delicately up your shirt, testing the waters. Your hands moved down his back and maneuvered towards the front dangerously close to his now throbbing member, looking at him for permission. She nodded as he began to push the collar of your shirt down and kissed down your collarbone. Your hand gently brushed against his bulge, he shivered at your touch, groaning lustfully into your neck.

"Y/N," he gave a breathy grunt as your fingers skillfully ran along his shaft and rubbed his tip through his trousers. He was crumbling fast, as were you. Both stumbling over one another, your hand palming and rubbing vigorously as his kisses becoming more needy. You brought your hands up to his back as whispered in his ear,

"Let's take this to my room."

You didn't need to tell him twice, he practically carried you to your room and shut the door quietly behind him before approaching you slowly. He brought his hand to your face as he looked you in the eyes,

"I love you so much," he whispered as he brought his lips to your plush ones. Feeling his hands wander to your arms and gripped them gently as he lips moved down your jaw. You felt him pepper your jaw and neck in soft kisses before letting out a shuddered breath against your skin once more. You shook against him as his hands cautiously began to run up your shirt. You pulled away and lifted your arms, allowing him to take your shirt off, leaving your upper half bare for him. He pushed you lightly back on to the bed as he lips made contact with your collarbone. Causing you to shake and shiver under him as his hands pulled off your shorts and grasped at your thighs,

"Once," you moaned out softly as his lips traced the skin of your breast.

"Is this ok?" He let out a shaky whisper against the flushed skin. You nodded as you guided one of his hands that rested on your thighs to the heat between your legs. He looked up at you in surprise for a moment as you pressed his hand against your plush, slick folds. He let out a guttural moan from his throat as his expression of surprise turned to one of pure desire. He latched his lips on to your hardened buds, while his fingers gently pressed against your clit. You let out a squeal as he worked his fingers against your burning heat, placing a hand in his ebony locks to find some sort of grounding.

"I can hear your heartbeat Y/N," he said softly in between kisses and light nips at your skin. He began to trail his kisses down you stomach as his fingers gently pushed a long, slick covered digit into you. You shuddered at the fulfillment in your heat as he began to slowly pump his fingers in and out of you. It was almost cruel and how slow he was going, arching your back and slightly bucking you hips against his hand trying to create juts a little more friction.

His lips now hovered right above your clit, giving an exasperated sigh before licking a fat stripe between your folds and attacking your clit eagerly as he added another digit into your sopping pussy. You let out an loud, pleasurable moan as he continued to work his fingers against your wet walks and his tounge sucking on your clit tenderly. Your hands wandered down into his hair once more, keeping him firmly between your legs. You let out desperate, pleading moans as he continued his slow pace,

"Once, faster please," you begged in gentle, breathy burst as you felt the coil in your course slowly building up. He hummed against your pussy as he kept his steady pace, his face and hand lightly covered in your slick. Your fingers gripped and pulled lightly as his locks, needing more friction as the coil continued to build. And though he wanted to drag it out, he knew better than to overly tease you.

The pace of his limber fingers slowly picked up and his tounge swiped swiftly across your small bundle of nerves. He added a third finger, stretching you gently as his fingers pace steadily grew faster and faster. You pleas and moans filled to room, as well as the sound of your squelching heat against the Oncelers fingers. His free hand spread your thigh as far as it could go, trying to reveal as much of yourself to tim as possible, seeing you in all your wet, messy glory. You arched your back as far as it could go and threw your head back onto the pillow as you felt yourself losing control. Unfiltered moans spilling out of your mouth as you pressed his face in between your legs as much as you could without hurting him, wanting him to finish what he started. He hummed against you clit as his pace began to become erratic, wanting to speed up too fast, but knowing that if he'd slow down you'd be very displeased.

Your legs began to shake as your orgasm approached,

"Once, I, fuck," you mewled out. Cumming on his fingers and in his mouth as he gave an approving grunt. He lapped up your fluids thoroughly before stepping back and off the bed, stripping down in front of you. You looked up and down his form in admiration, seeing his lean torso and slightly toned arms made your heart beat faster in anticipation. Your eyes wandered down to his clear bulge in his boxers as he pulled them down swiftly letting his cock spring free.

It was fair in length, decent girth, a few veins scattered along the shaft, and a tip leaking ungodly amounts of precum. You looked up at him, seeing his face a deep red and avoiding eye contact with you, looking slightly ashamed of himself.

"Hey," you spoke sweetly and softly to him as you watched him hesitantly walk to your side of the bed, but not crawling in it.

"What's the matter Once?" You asked as he sat on the edge of the bed. He looked at you with a shamed experience,

"It's just, I don't have much experience," he said as he rubbed to back of his neck. You gave him a remorseful smile and gestured him to come crawl in the bed next to you. He nodded as he made his way to you, his weight sinking into the mattress as he laid his head on your chest,

"It's ok Once, you don't have to feel ashamed for not having much experience. I'm here with you now because I want to be. And if it makes you feel better, I don't have much either, so we'll help each other along the way, ok?" You whispered to him and gave him a light kiss on his forehead head. He looked at you with the most loving look you'd ever seen in a man as his lips crashed on to yours passionately. He crawled on to of you cautiously as or not hurt you and spread your legs, feeling his patience depleting with each passing second. He pulled his lips away from yours and adjusted his throbbing member at your entrance, looking at you innocently for permission, you nodded your head with haste,

"Please Once," desire dripping off your tounge as he sheathed himself slowly inside of your wet folds. A loud, high pitched groan erupted from his throat once he was fully inside of you,

"Fuck," he cursed out in a breathy moan, his hands gripped your thighs tightly, trying to keep himself from being overly rough with you. You moaned out his name, letting your hands roam up his back and nails digging into his pale skin as he began to softly thrust his hips against yours. His thrusts were soft and gentle at first, his hands resting on your face as he looked into your eyes with need,

"You're so beautiful," he praised, placing a soft kiss in your forehead as his pace was slow and steady. He wanted to savor it, every movement, every expression you made, every sound, all of it. He never had any like this before in his life and never wanted to lose it.

You bucked your hips up slightly, wanting him to pick the pace as you moaned gently,

"Once, more, please," you begged slightly. He took note of your plea and thrusted faster and a bit more rough than before, causing you to let out a surprised yelp. He stopped for a moment and looked at you with worry,

"I'm not hurting you am I?" He asked in a breathy whisper. You shook your head as you pulled him in and against your chest,

"Not at all, I liked it," you whispered back. That was all he needed to hear from you. He nodded before he thrusted into you harshly, causing you to arch your back in pleasure. He chuckled to himself as he began to snap his hips against yours, thrusting his cock roughly in out of your dripping pussy. You let out desperate yelps and moans as he gripped your shoulders, your nails dragging against the skin of his back as he seemed to hit all the right spots.

"God you look so good like this, you're so beautiful Y/N," he moaned out, almost in a whimpering manner. You clenched around him in response as his gripped loosened on your shoulders and moved down to your hips. Gripping you tightly once again as his lips made contact with your neck, kissing and nipping gently as his moans began to turn into needy whimpers.

Your hands roam from his now scratched up back to his face, looking at him with loving eyes and taking in the sight of him above you. His face red, eyes completely drowned in lust and desire, and a light layer a of sweat across his brow. His grip became more harsh as he looked into your eyes,

"So, pretty," he stuttered as he pulled you up into a sitting position in his lap and he continued to thrust into you, slamming your hips down against his. The new angle allowed him to penetrate deeper into you, causing you to throw back your head in ecstacy, your release slowly approaching one again. Your moans and yelps became louder and more frequent as he thrusted up into you. He took note of how close you were and wrapped his arms around you, placing his hands on your back and gripping them gently,

"You close sweet girl," he cooed in a breathy whisper. You nodded as you squeezed you eyes shut and hugged him tightly. He kissed your head sweetly, his pace steady as you felt your release wash over you abruptly.

You gave him a long, pleasure filled moan as you squeezed your entire being around him, holding onto to him like your life depended on it. His pace slowly began to speed up and his moans and whimpers became more desperate,

"I love you so much, you're so perfect Y/N, fuck," he yelled against your neck, causing you to shiver in his arms. His soft grip on your back soon turned into his nails gently digging into your soft skin as his thrusts were harder than they'd been that night. He could feel he was close, his breath heavy, grip harsh and needy, as the sounds he made we absolutely unholy to say the least. You brought your lips to his ear as you let a out breathy moan,

"Please cum inside of me Once, please." That was enough for him. As soon as the words feel off your tounge, his body tensed up and shook as his cock twitched inside of you, letting himself fill you with his hot seed. He mewled out praises of you, how much he loved you and how good you were for him as he rode out his high.

You felt him soften inside of you before pulling yourself off of him, laying down next to him as he continued to catch his breath. He looked at you with soft eyes as he ran his slender fingers through your hair as he whispered,

"You have no idea how long I wanted to do that," eh chuckled as he kissed your cheek tenderly.

"Oh believe me, I know."

#onceler x reader #onceler #the onceler #Onceler x reader smut #the lorax

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glassgulls · 1 year

Text

Sweet Conversations

Fandom: Lord Of The Rings Return of the King

Pairing: Haldir x fem!reader

Warnings: Mutual pining, lots of kissing some not very innocent. Nothing explicit but please be advised this spicier than general audience.

Summary: A chance conversation leads to a simple game with the sweetest of prizes.

Comments: This was inspired by this prompt list "let me teach you what a real kiss is". The thought of Haldir saying that to me seems to have short circuited my brain as this was supposed to be a drabble but ran away from me, hopefully not to the detriment of the piece. I also would very much like to be chased down by Haldir. I have no chill.

Word count: 5, 359

Your eyes were fluttered closed as thumbs smoothed over your cheek bones. The strong hands that are cupping your face so tenderly tilt it up slightly. Your parted lips are trembling as the whisper of breath fans over your face.

You feel the shift of the body in front of you as they press closer, a nose nuzzles against your cheek and you whimper softly as chapped lips brush the corner of your own.

“Haldir.” You plead softly, your hands reach up and curl your fingers into his tunic, breath catching in anticipation of his touch.

His voice was a low purr as he speaks your name, making you quiver. He has barely touched you but your heart is thundering in your chest you're sure Haldir's sharp ears can hear it.

Your fingers grip his clothing, holding on to try to ground you in the moment. His lips trailed up to press softly against your temple.

His name tumbles from your lips like a plea, a prayer. Let him have mercy on you and finally kiss you like he had promised.

"Let me teach you what a real kiss is." The Marchwarden had stated earlier. Moving slowly closer into your personal space. The apex predator closing in on his cornered prey.

His steps had been slow and cautious, always giving you time to refuse but you hadn't. You had taken a step back so your back was flush with one of the decorated columns in this secluded vista. Back arching slightly to bend your body towards him. Welcoming his approach, encouraging him closer, a luring siren. No one would pass by at this time of evening. It was why you had run here, leading Haldir on a merry chase so you two could finally be alone.

Your heart had been full of courage then, all breathy laughs and gasps as you had weaved around the various areas of Lórien. Turning every now and then to make sure he was still there and thrilled to see the glimpse of him moving with an unhurried pace behind. But always within sight, once or twice within grasp but had not reached out. You knew he just wanted you to know that he could finish this in a moment. It was sheer indulgence on his part or perhaps he was just looking to see you finally tired out and close in with ease.

You had giggled and squealed as you turned a corner to see him already there leaning on a wall with a ghost of a smile and had danced away to change direction. You knew your destination, you were positive that Haldir also knew but was corralling you along more quieter routes, neither of you wanted anyone disturbing your game.

You had paused at a small ornamental garden with a delicate fountain in the centre with flowers of heady scents planted in a careful pattern around the area. The beautiful statue holding a vase that was pouring gurgling waters in the centre shone in the early moonlight. Swiftly hiding behind the fountain you placed a hand on your chest to catch your breath, your heart beating frantically under your touch and you let your eyes flutter closed for a second to try to calm its frantic pace and listen for any approaching noise.

Silence.

Opening your eyes you had caught the full moon gloriously starting its climb across the night sky. It’s silver visage reminding you of the blue eyes of your pursuer. A sharp blue under the sun but at night a brilliant flash of quicksilver whenever your gazes met.

You had bitten your lip at the flash of memory as Haldir had openly stared at you at the party earlier in honour of you and companions. The flush of alcohol in your system had made you more playful than usual as you had joined in on the teasing chatter of your companions.

“Who was your best kiss?”

It had made you frown and dip your head down as the others had whispered the lurid details of the treasured moments. But when it had been your turn you had only sighed in melancholy.

“I’ve never-” You had started and then Pippin had jumped in spluttering his drink everywhere.

“You’ve never been kissed?!” His shrill tone making people turn towards your group.

“No, of course I have!” You shouted a little too loudly and dropped your voice low again in a conspiratorial whisper. “They’ve just been nothing to write home about.” You shrugged and your gaze had flicked up to see a certain elf watching your group, watching you with a look that had made you suck on your lower lip and heat rush to your face.

You recognised him of course, Haldir the Marchwarden of Lorien. He who had escorted you and your group through the forest now dressed tonight in a more casual tunic and leggings of grey and green. Haldir who had approached you later to ask your name and gave you a tour of the main part of the beautiful Elven city. Haldir that you now had nightly dreams about driving him quite mad with desire and shaking his famous composure.

Haldir who had clearly heard the drunken conversation and was pinning you where you stood with his blue eyes. Perhaps you were not the only one who was dreaming of less than innocent thoughts.

You had excused yourself to get another drink and while at the serving table you had felt a presence at your elbow. You knew who it would be immediately. After all, being in your every waking and dreaming thought had made you hyper away of him.

“Marchwarden.” You spoke and let your gaze flick to him. He had already grabbed the bottle you were reaching for and offering to pour you a drink. His voice was calm and quiet as he spoke your name. Placing the bottle back down again you took a small sip and let your eyelashes flutter up at him, noticing the way his jaw clenched at the action.

“I couldn't help overhear your conversation from before.” He spoke with such a blase tone you had a hard time reconciling it with the way his fingers tightened around the bottle, knuckles going white when you had let your tongue peek out to chase the wine on your lips.

“Did you wish to contribute to the conversation?” You had asked in a careful tone and moved closer to him. Purposely brushing against his arm to reach for a plate of strawberries and smiling in relief at the way his body shivered at the contact.

"Not with the rest of your companions, no.” He stated simply in a low tone that seemed to suggest a hint of collusion. An air of secrecy between you and him. The implications of that made you hum in excited satisfaction and gaze up at him. Girlish fancy bubbling up in you at the prospect that you and the handsome ellon would share something together. You finish the wine in your glass and delicately place it down.

Biting into the strawberry you couldn't help the sigh of content at its sweet taste and looked to the side as if deep in thought.

“Then perhaps it is something you would like to converse about somewhere more quiet?” You felt the low rumble of agreement rather than with your ear, it makes you wonder if he takes it for granted that you don’t have the sharp hearing of him and his kin.

“If that would please you, my lady.” He says, looking over the party with an aching parody of drollness that it makes you giggle under your breath.

The ellon takes a strawberry also and lets his gaze flick back to you while taking a small bite from it. There’s a sizzle of tension between you both, hot and heavy like before a thunderstorm. Feeling the brave courage of the wine in your veins you scan the room to make sure there was no audience to you and Haldir's little game.

Seeing no spectators you arched an eyebrow and plucked the strawberry from his hand and let it tap at your bottom lip a second before sinking your teeth into it and letting the juice almost fall from your lips. Haldir had watched you with rapt attention the whole time, made you revel in the dark cast of his brilliant blue eyes. Pupils swallowing the iris till they drowned the blue.

“Very well, I’m going outside to take some air.” You announced to him, your voice thick with desire before brushing past him. A trail of fingertips against his hand still by his side you had walked over to your friends and told them you were going to retire to your rooms and sauntered out fully aware you were being watched.

Outside you had taken a deep breath and tried to cool the blistering heat of want that sat under your skin. The drink, you imagine, was not the wisest choice to do while this clearly besotted with a near stranger.

Walking to the little railing that overlooked the city below you stopped, resting your hands on it. The sound of a footstep approached from behind made you smile and you resisted the urge to turn to them as they stood a hair's breadth away.

“Marchwarden.” You said again and risked a glance at him. He was staring below with a tint to his cheeks that you assumed was from the heat of the party inside.

“Haldir,” He corrected softly, then ducked his head down a moment and gave a small cough. “While we’re alone you may call me by my name.” Haldir paused. "If you should desire." He gave the correction as if he wasn't completely convinced of your intentions.

"I greatly desire that Haldir.” You breathed and gave a thrilled grin. The ellon beside you tightened his grip on the railing when you had spoken his name so you tried it again. Letting it draw from your lips slowly and deliciously, tasting it on your tongue.

“You wished to discuss something with me, my lady?” Haldir spoke through gritted teeth. You tutted and tilted your head at him.

“You should call me by my name also Haldir like we are friends.” You chided him and watched as his knuckles went white gripping the railing.

“You wish, we should be friends?” He muttered quietly and you dropped the teasing smile from your face.

“No.” You confessed with the groan of yearning you had harboured for the ellon who stood next to you.

“Good,” He whispered with what seemed like a relieved exhale. You let your hand move closer to his own on the railing, just a soft brush of the tips of your fingertips had him shuddering. “You are playing a dangerous game.” Haldir let out with a soft growl like distant thunder. The rumble made you shiver and your toes curled at the forbidden images it stirred in you.

“If it’s a game you want to play I shall oblige you Haldir,” You had teased softly letting the evening breeze carry your voice away.

Pulling away from the railing Haldir had followed the movement with a puzzled expression. Standing there with your hands clasped behind your back you felt the breeze flutter the skirt of your dress as you looked at the ellon with liquid courage in your belly.

“We can continue our conversation after.” You finished and attempted a coy smile but it shrank when he stood and loomed over you. A hot flame of unbridled lust hit you, licked up your spine at the sheer presence Haldir had.

“And what is the game?” Haldir asked, tilting his head and with a curious voice.

"We can continue once you catch me." You breathed rising up and down slightly on your tiptoes. Haldir's stance changed, the curious puzzlement shifted into a coiled hunch. His head tilted again and it made you think of the large beasts in the forest. Eyes quick and teeth sharp ready to chase down and strike.

You ran your tongue over one of your canine teeth. A show of bravado, a taste of your intent, a glimpse who you really were. You were no child to tease and run. You were a woman who knew what she wanted and more than capable of biting back.

Haldir stands completely still and poised, awaiting the rules of the game. The only glimpse of emotion was that the ellon swallowed hard at your action, his adam's apple bobbing.

"What prize do I win when I catch you?" Haldir asked and you know your own eyes are mirroring his own dilated with desire.

"Perhaps you shall be able to give me the kiss I shall always think of." You responded sweetly and his lips curled for a split second.

"I accept," He stated calmly without hesitation. "I will teach you what a real kiss is." He promised.

You can't help the rush of excitement, the arousal his gaze ignites in you as he takes one step forward.

Taking one step back you had bitten your lip to stop the gasping giggle of nerves in your chest. He was still staring, unblinking, muscles clearly bunched and coiled even under the loose tunic. Broad shoulders rolled with anticipation and, Eru, that made you feverish with want.

"Will you grant me a head start Marchwarden?" You ask breathely and Haldir's unwavering stare slowly blinks. Like he's engrained the sight of you behind his eyes. He gave a soft hum of acknowledgement and nod of his head.

Then with a slight curtsy and cocky grin you turned on your heel and sprinted into the evening.

That was how you had ended up hiding behind the fountain. Your anticipation of his promised kiss made you almost falter in your steps so he would finally catch you. But you would play this game, race to the finish line and win your prize.

A light step stirred from behind and you held your breath. You had taken a peek from your hiding spot and gasped when long strong fingers were curled on the corner of the fountain behind you. The index finger tapped twice before sliding to hide again. You failed to hold back a giggle escaping you and strained your ears to pinpoint his next move. Your heartbeat thundered in your chest, fingers gripped your skirts in readiness to bolt again.

A flash of blond hair from your right and you fled yelping and laughing. Reaching the other side of the garden you turn and see Haldir where you had been hiding, his hand on the spot where your body had been seeming to memorise the warmth your body had been. He looked up to see you there and there's a look of such longing that it knocked the breath from you. The urge to run to him filled your bones, thrummed in your veins, choking off your breath.

Instead you had given him a smile, brimming with your own yearning, your desperate need. There had been a long moment when you both stood there trying to convey to one another your heart's desire.

After a heartbeat Haldir stood straight again and smirked, alerting you immediately. Maintaining eye contact he made a deliberate step forward. Tensing up you gave another squeak of excitement and bounded off into the dark.

Running, the night air whipped around you as you weaved through the familiar paths. Your feet made light work as you neared the end goal, your final destination.

Moonlight suddenly enveloped you as you reached the end goal. You had seen this remote spot in an earlier visit with your handsome tour guide. A small garden with columns surrounding a bench with sweet scented roses.

Stopping in the garden close to one of the columns you spun around, your dress swirling at your waist. Behind in the dark of the pathway you caught a glimpse of silver hair, raising a hand to your chest you try to calm your chittering nerves.

Slowly, step by step Haldir crept into the garden. You were clearly reminded of who he is, what he is, Marchwarden and guardian of this place. Lifetimes trained to defend, a sentinel of silent deadliness. A hunter who now had his eyes trained on you.

You fail to suppress the shudder that goes through you, goosebumps rippling across your skin as you finally make eye contact with him. Shadows gave way, falling from him, as Haldir was finally fully bathed in moonlight.

He approached slowly, seeming to sense the excitement in you. Whether the ellon wanted to make certain you were still sure of your earlier intent or perhaps it was in his nature as a hunter to approach his prey with caution? A cornered animal is at its most dangerous then after all.

So with that you lifted your chin up and taken another step back to feel the reassuring presence of the stone column behind you. Your eyes never strayed from the ellon coming towards you, the thundering in your chest is now not because of the chase. Haldir tilted his head again and paused.

"You give up?" He asked, curious and almost disappointed that you had stopped.

"We will be alone here, yes?" You counter and Haldir nods, blinking slowly.

"No one visits here at this time." He confirms and you relaxed against the column.

"Good," Your voice was barely a whisper as you threw him a reassuring smile. "No one to interrupt our discussion." You finished grinning at him.

Haldir hovered a little closer and gave a little laugh.

"You are very different." He said and moved into your personal space. Tilting your head back to keep his gaze you pouted a little.

"Is that bad?" You asked.

"No," he breathed and let one arm lean on the column you rested on. Leaning down he crowds in on you, and your breath quickened. You could smell his scent, wild and fresh like the forest surrounding this haven.

"No, living as long as I have, different, should be celebrated." He explained moving to bring his lips to your ear, his nose traced the shell of it. The tremble that it elicits causes you to bite your lip with a catch of breath.

"Will you claim your prize?" You ask hoarsely, your eyelashes fluttered as he pressed closer. Tilting your head again you let your lips brush against the alluring column of Haldir's neck. Your mouth close enough to his skin you could taste him on your lips. He hummed deeply in his chest, the vibrations rumbled through you both.

"Soon." He promised his breath against your ear making you whimper. "I will teach you what a real kiss is."

Haldir shifted his body and with a little trepidation ran his hands along your jaw. You let your eyes open to see his gaze studying you. Those impossible blue, now sliver regarding you closely, to gauge any discomfort on your part.

Raising your own hands you let them rest on his, your thumbs stroking against the battle scarred skin of his. Through parted lips you darted your tongue out to wet them and couldn't help the sense of satisfaction at his sharp intake of breath at your action.

"You tease me." He muttered in an accusatory tone.

"I don't know what you mean Marchwarden." Your laugh is an indecent purr.

His eyes roll white a moment at the way you address him as a violent tremble shaked him. When Haldir looks at you again the tease in you curls up as his gaze ripped through you, stripping you bare to bone. Naked and vulnerable under the watchful moon, those hunters' eyes are almost black.

A small ancestral part of you hisses danger to you. Run, run, little thing before you get gobbled up, consumed in one bite.

Another grin tugs your lips, showing teeth wide and bright. You're no little mouse to hide, you have your own claws, your own hunger. Haldir's lips twitch then curl into a small smile before he whispers your name. Soft like velvet across your skin, a dark caress that fills your mind, that has you close your eyes to savour the sensation.

The adrenaline is a heady concoction with the earlier wine, feeling daring you move your hands from his and let them rest on Haldirs chest. Your fingers smoothed over the hard defined muscle under his loose tunic.

The ellons own had moved to tilt your face up, calloused worn thumbs swept over your cheekbones. Haldir's name rolled off your tongue as it always did in your dreams of him, full of want and longing. It felt strange to say it aloud, sacrilegious to be able to speak it so. This perfect being you had fantasised about was now holding you, caressing you like he had dreamed of this also.

The scent of roses clung to his skin as you both stood curled around each other. Neither wanting it to end, let the night hold you like this forever and that is how you had stayed. Haldir pressing soft kisses to your cheeks, eyelids and brow. You grew more feverish and whimpered for him to finally bestow the finishing blow and kiss you fully.

Your fingers tangle in his tunic dragging him close, loathed to let any space between you both.

Haldir sings your name and you open your eyes to see him watching you. There's a wrinkle in his brow, a tension to his shoulders as a hand moves to cup your jaw. Sweeping your hands you curl them around his neck and let your nails drag softly against his skin. He seems nervous, or as close to an approximation to it that you can tell. It's a sharp contrast from his usual stoic demeanour.

Silken hair cascades over your fingers, like silver moonlight. Curling your fingers through it you ventured this was as close as to holding starlight, it's utterly bewitching. The fingers that still brush softly at the nape of Haldir's neck dip tantalising below the neck of his tunic. There's a hint of that bulk of muscle shifting again, like the roll of thunder, a force of nature.

The fluttering if your heart beats out a frantic tattoo as Haldir's arms wrap around you. It's with a delicate care, testing your boundaries when you feel his fingers stroke your waist. A soft gasp escapes you as his free hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, strong fingers tangling in your hair as he tugs your heads back exposing your neck.

Haldir's name chokes out your dry throat, when his breath fans across your pulse point, his nose nuzzling just under your ear. A whimper reverberates through you at plush lips pressed against your neck, the sensation as they made a slow trail along to your jugular and the fingers in your hair strong and insistent to keep you in place make you giddy.

Instinctively drag your nails along the perfect skin under your fingertips making Haldir groan softly. Your reward is the sharp scrape of his teeth that rips a sound from you that borders on animalistic.

Haldir presses soft open mouthed kisses in a soothing gesture but it's too late for you. The feverish dizziness consumes you, shaking you to the core. Heady intoxication from wine is a poor comparison to the way your blood sings in your veins under his touch. You hold Haldir tight to you, convinced you can both stay like this forever, drunk on each other under the moon.

The fingers on your waist splay out, the searing heat of them surely branding you. Haldir nips at your throat again letting out a low pitched moan that you answer with your own. He must be leaving marks that a deep animalistic part of you craves. Dipping your fingers under the neck of his tunic again you claw at Haldir making him grunt and press you hard against the column.

Arching against him you give a keening cry and eyes roll in your head at a hot sensation on your skin. A questing tongue flicking and dragging against your neck tasting you, his lips moving higher to your ear.

Haldir's nose nuzzles against you again, his own breath hurried as his fingers tighten on you. There's a sense of proud accomplishment that you of all people have caused this transformation in the Marchwarden. He's whispering in a low purr words you can't understand but the tone you can, it mirrors your own gasping pleas of want.

"Please." You beg with no mind to your pride. Haldir groans low in his throat and the fingers on your waist disappear but before you mourn their loss you feel them again on your jaw. Haldir's thumb presses on your bottom lip and you instinctively nip and lick at it. A shudder rips through the ellon wrapped around you at your action.

The fingers on your jaw tighten for a second before twisting your face to his own. His lips are so close to your own you feel his panting breath, the heat of his already kiss swollen lips. Opening your eyes you look at him with a teary gaze, unable to hide the sheer desperation in them.

Haldir meets your gaze with dark eyes, pupils blown wide.

"Haldir," you groan. "Please have pity on me." His eyes dip to your lips as you lick them.

"Yes meleth nin," Haldir's usual calm composed voice now choked out and gruff. "I shall take pity on us both." He stated.

Giving a rattled breath your eyes flutter close as Haldir presses his lips to your own, you both sigh in sated anticipation. His kiss is a lingering taste to savour you as he nips and sucks at your plush lips. Long and careful movements that unravel you with precision. Nothing can compare to this, your dreams and fantasies are poor fare to the reality.

With your soft hiccups and moans Haldir's resolve starts to waver. What started out as a soft press of lips quickly evolves into a messy clash of teeth and tongue. Your fingers in Haldir's hair tug insistently, a warning not to stop. Haldir grunts and his fingers on your jaw near the border on bruising, but you have no mind to care. You'll wear them and his other marks with quiet pride.

Sliding your tongue against Haldir's you gasp which Haldir swiftly swallows. Sucking on his bottom lips causes a growl from the Marchwarden that makes your toes curl before he dives back in at you again.

His ministrations make you reel, like a leaf in a storm whipped around. Hypoxia bleeds into your vision as you shiver and moan, Haldir stealing your breath. You pull away a moment and gulp air inelegantly, your hand not trapped in Haldir's hair cups his jaw, then move to trace his swollen lips to keep contact with him.

Haldir presses soft kisses to your fingertips and when he sees you have your breath returned pushes past your hand to claim your lips again. Your fingers twitch and grapple to find purchase in Haldir's onslaught.

You finally settle on his jaw again letting them flutter up to trace his ears. The reaction is visceral, violent shivers rocks through Haldir as he moans loudly. His chest heaves against your own as you meld into one another. Another desperate grapple at one another ensues to conquer, to consume the other, to become one.

Before you can press this advantage Haldir pulls away abruptly causing you to fall forward into him. He pulls you against his chest, letting you catch your breath.

Tilting your head up you look to him confused but he's looking away into the darkness of the corridors beyond.

"Someone was approaching," he says softly, his fingers rubbing softly at the base of your head. You let your head rest against his chest, tucked safely under his chin. Words are beyond you as you try to reclaim your wits again but sure you're punch drunk.

"It is getting late, perhaps we should continue our conversation tomorrow?" He states his question wavered with hope.

"Yes, tomorrow." You whisper into his chest loathed to move from his scent.

"I know of a place where no one will interrupt us, some place I would like to share with you." Haldir states softly running a hand up your back, tracing your spine.

You press yourself against him and sigh with content at the promise of tomorrow. Of Haldir wanting to share something precious of his life with you.

"I would like that very much, Haldir." You reply and feel him shift slightly. The hand on your back moves to tilt your face up to look at him again. There's a look of satisfaction on his face for a mere moment at your appearance, soft doe-eyed and docile in his arms.

"Will you allow me to escort you back to your room?" He asks and you stifle a laugh. After what you had both just done, how he had reduced you to a quivering mess, to have him sound so proper was equal parts amusing and heartwarming.

"Please." You reply and take a moment to figure out if your legs will cooperate after the heady onslaught of a moment ago.

As you pull back slightly you straighten your clothing and idly hope you don't run into anyone on the way back. You must look like a complete shambles. Seemingly reading your thoughts Haldir reaches out and tucks some errant hair behind your ear before pressing close to kiss you again.

You squeak in surprise before melting against him again. The frantic energy from before still sizzles under your skin but Haldir seems to have a presence of mind to pull back again.

Standing stupefied you feel Haldir tuck your arm through his own and whisk you away along unfamiliar paths. There's a sharp pang of grief of having to leave the sanctuary of moonlight and roses. But Haldir's presence at your side eases it immediately.

There's twists and turns along darkened corridors that you are eternally grateful for being empty. Though you knew that was due to your guide's expertise in stealth, his feet lead you seemingly by second nature on desolate paths.

Soon enough you saw the familiar door of your room and a dread filled you at the realisation of having to separate from the ellon at your side.

Slowing down you both reach the door and begrudgingly you slip your arm free from Haldir. There's the distant noise of the party still in the throes of going on but all you want is the next day to come.

Standing before Haldir you feel suddenly coy. Looking up at him under your lashes you fold your hands primly in front of you. You're sure anyone who may see would be adequately fooled into thinking you a chaste soul. And not the raging maelstrom of lust that the handsome Marchwarden stirs in you.

Haldir tilts his head at your act and there's a moment of his eyes darkening again before he takes control of himself.

"Thank you for the tour, I enjoyed our conversation." You say saccharin sweet, Haldir ducks his head down a moment to hide the huff of a laugh.

"Hopefully it was memorable." He quips and you can't stop the small giggle escaping you as he glances up at you again.

"It was," you reply "Though I'm afraid my memory may fail me and I will need reminding Marchwarden." You confess softly and can see the twitch of his lips before his expression falls back into the easy mask of composure.

"I'm at your disposal my lady." Haldir pledges. Giving a small bow to you, he rises and you see the twinkle of mirth and promise in those beautiful blue eyes.

"Till tomorrow then?" You ask with baited breath. Haldir breaths quietly and you're quite sure he's fighting the urge to kiss you again.

"Tomorrow and many more." He vows.

#haldir #haldir x reader #lord of the rings #lotr fanfic #Lord of the rings fanfiction #my writing #haldir x you #haldir fanfiction

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findingnemosworld · 7 months

Text

𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 - 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐤 𝐬𝐳𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐳𝐥𝐚𝐢

• 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐦𝐞

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐦.

( sweet angel baby, you can’t convince me otherwise )

His gaze trails her every move as she effortlessly walks from the oven back to the counter with a tray of delicious and freshly baked cookies that she made, and for a moment he recalls spending time with her after school in her old home while her parents were at work, he'd sit on the counter while she baked and decorated cookies for her mother's bakery, this time however she was decorating them for her own bakery. " Those look delicious " he states, sneakily reaching his hand to take one before he felt a sharp sting which had him pouting playfully, " That's not fair baba "

" I have another batch te idióta " She giggles, carefully placing the still hot cookies onto the decorating sheet before moving across to grab the piping bag. " This for tomorrow's sale "

" They look more delicious than the other ones " He says with a childlike tone before smiling, " Yet again it doesn't surprise me, anything you make is delicious "

She wasn't sure if it was the heat or the fact that he was standing at such close proximity to her, yet his words were enough to send a surge of warmth across her cheeks, she looks away and chuckles. " I am not giving you one of these cookies " she retorts.

" Worth a shot " He smirks before allowing his gaze to wander across her choice of clothing which admittedly, had been the root cause for every unholy thought that consumed his mind in that moment, some loose strands had fallen out and instinctively, he reached his hand to push them back, the mere action caused her to look up and meet his gaze. " Annyira gyönyörű vagy " he whispers, his thumb caressing the apple of cheek while his gaze travelled down to her lips then back up to her eyes, silently asking for her permission.

" Dominik " She whispers his name with a shaky breath.

He leans closer, only a silver of space left between them. " Tell me to stop, right now and I will " he whispers against her lips, " Because if we cross the line right now, I'm never going to turn back, if we do this, you're mine baba "

Her slender digits wrap around the chain he wore, tugging him to close the distance between them, their lips had molded together so perfectly as if they'd been aching to finally meet, exchanging the ever growing longing they felt for one another; he snakes his arm around her waist to hoist her up on the counter while their lips continued to converse, muffled soft sounds escaping from either one. " Dominik " she whines against his lips, he tugs her shorts down followed by her panties before he pulled back to meet her dazed gaze, his pupils were blown, his lips swollen with a soft smile. " Please " she pleads with a small voice.

" I've waited so long for this " He states, kneeling down to come face to face with her slick pussy which glistened with the obvious arousal she was feeling which elicited a chuckle from him, " Baba " he groans before adding, " I haven't even touched you yet " he murmurs, teasing her by peppering kisses across her inner thighs.

She whines in response, her hands gripping the edges of the counter. " I've touched myself, thinking of you, of how you'd fuck me " she admits with a small voice.

The confession elicited a growl from him, " Why didn't you ever tell me when you called? " he wonders before darting his tongue then flattening it against her slick pussy inciting a loud borderline obscene moan from her, " Why didn't you ever call me when you felt bothered? I can count so many times that I was almost caught by my teammates cause all I could think about was fucking you " he groans before slipping his tongue inside of her pussy, the groan deepens when her digits gripped his hair.

" Fuck Dominik " She cried, throwing her head back; her chest heaving ponderous breaths while he continued to dart his tongue in and out of her pussy while his thumb rubbed featherlight circles against her clit. " Oh Fuck, right there ... just like that " she bites down on her bottom lip.

His gaze darts up to look at her, the sight was what he could truly describe as a masterpiece, her features contorted with pure euphoria while her lips parted, releasing obscene sounds that he wishes he can save inside of his mind for a lifetime, his thumb continued to rub her clit; only this time much more harder than earlier which stimulated her further towards her orgasm, the knot in her lower abdomen exploded and he was struck by a taste that resembled a kind of honey he might as well grow addicted to.

" Fuck, I'm cumming, don't stop " She cried, her eyelids tightly shut with tears brimming from the corners. " Shit " she gasps, " Oh yes, yes ... "

He laps up every single drop before standing back up with a satisfied grin, " Finom, ahogy elképzeltem "

She tugs him close by his chain to give him a kiss, both of them moaning at the faint taste which lingered on his lips, she murmurs in between their kisses " What’s it going to be? the kitchen or the bedroom? "

He smirks against her lips, " With the time I have baba, I’m going to fuck you in every corner of this house " his tongue darts and swipes her bottom lip to gain access to her mouth, " And by the end of the night, there’s no going back "

" Is that so? " She said with a challenging tone.

" You bet it is " He whispers.

Her slender digits trail a line across his abdomen which incited a hiss that transformed into a moan when her hand cupped his prominent erection peeking through his sweatpants, " How long have you been dreaming about this? " She asks, gasping when his lips trailed a line of featherlight kisses across her neck and jawline.

" Too long " He moans upon feeling her hand slipping past his sweatpants and boxers to come in direct contact with his cock, " That red dress you wore on your seventeenth birthday, was the subject of many of my dreams, very unholy dreams "

She lowers his sweatpants followed by his boxers to free his cock, the cool air in the kitchen elicited yet another strangled moan from him, " Tell me then ... tell me about one of those dreams " she whispers with a sweet smile before pulling back to remove the t-shirt she was wearing.

His gaze darts down to her breasts, and instinctively he licked his lips at the sight of her nipples hardening from the chill air. " I ... " he opens then closes his mouth, his throat suddenly feeling dry. " How about I show you? " he suggests with a teasing smile.

" Ok " She breathes out, mirroring his smile.

He grabs the piping bag full of pink icing, and pushes a few dollops on top of her breasts before placing the bag next to them and dipping down to lick the icing off of her breasts in a leisure pace which elicited soft moans from her lips, " Dominik " she gasps. " Fuck, yes "

" Every time I watched you bake, I wanted nothing more than to put you up on the counter " He chuckles in between darting his tongue around her nipples, " And pour every icing bag you had on top of you because, of all the sweet treats you bake ... " he stands back to capture her lips in a sweet and gentle kiss, " You're the sweetest treat I've ever seen baba "

" What else? " She manages to ask through shaky breaths as he slots himself between her bare legs, the length of his cock poking her inner thigh.

" On your eighteenth birthday " He said with a shy smile, his cheeks burning red. " You wore that red dress which had those knots on your shoulders and the way it hugged your perfect body, I wanted nothing more than to take you out of that party and back to my house so that I can spend my time worshipping you the way you deserve to be worshipped "

Her eyes widened and a giggle slipped past her lips, " Is that why you were sending death threats with your eyes to Andras? "

Andras was a mutual childhood friend who didn't keep his affinity towards her a secret, and to say Dominik disliked him would be a huge understatement, " I wanted to kill him, the way he spoke about you like you were some object, made me sick! and what made it worse was the way you smiled at him, it gave him the illusion that you liked him and honestly " he rests his forehead against hers, " I was jealous, very jealous ... I was always jealous of the people you met when you worked in the café, because they got to see you more than I did, I was jealous of the people you smiled at, strangers or not, I was jealous because I wanted your smiles to be mine, I wanted to be the only one that can hold you, I wanted to be the only person that can show you what true love is, before you were heartbroken by that idiot "

Her heart softened at his confession, " Why didn't you ever tell me? " she wondered.

He finds his lips wandering across her cheek and jaw before responding, " I was scared, that I'd lose you, that maybe if things went wrong, we'd never be friends again and I would hate that because ... " he grabs her hand, placing it directly over his heart. " You are my heart baba "

With a tearful smile, she pressed her lips onto his for a brief moment before she pulled back and whispered, " You're still over dressed " she states with a teasing smile.

He chuckles, swiftly removing his shirt and throwing it next to her t-shirt before cradling her face in his hands to press a few kisses on her lips, " Spread those legs open baba " he commands with a soft voice.

She complied and without much of a warning, felt his cock thrusting ever so gently into her walls eliciting a gasp from the two of them, " I ... Fuck, that feels so good " she whines.

He pecks her lips, " Feels better than what I imagined " he growls before setting a leisure pace in which he began to thrust in and out of her pussy while his arm wrapped securely around her waist. " You feel so good wrapped around my cock like that " he moans, " It's like you were made for me "

Strangled whines escaped her parted lips, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, clinging onto him while he continued to thrust in and out of her pussy, this time he tilted their position then upped the pace which had hit her exactly where she needed the most, her vision blurred while the knot in her lower abdomen formed once again. " Oh Fuck, right there ... yes right there " she cried.

" I'm not letting you go " He tilts her head to face him then captures her lips in a gentle kiss. " You're all mine baba, every single part of you is mine "

" Yes ... Yes " She nods before a gasp escapes her lips. " I'm ... " she bites down on her lip, " I think I'm going to cum again "

" Yeah " He cooed, pressing kisses on her neck, " I can feel it, you're squeezing my cock baba, come on ... I know you can do it, make a mess all over my cock baba "

His thrusts were sloppy just as she felt the euphoric sensation wash over her, " Fuck ... don't stop, don't stop. Oh Fuck yes " she cried, arching her back off of the counter.

" That's it baba, such a good girl " He cooed, thrusting a few times before he pulled his cock out and smirked, " You're going to be a good girl and clean up this mess? "

She mirrored his grin, hopping off the counter to kneel down in front of him, she wrapped her hand around his cock while wrapping her lips around the tip to take as much of him as she can, he throws his head back, his lips parting as a content sigh escapes from them. " Ah Fuck yes, Vedd mindezt abba az édes szádba "

The sensation of her mouth coupled with her tongue darting across every prominent vein sent his mind into a frenzy, countless nights he lied awake, dreaming of this moment, of having the one girl that consumed his every waking and sleeping thought right now was more perfect than he could possibly imagine, " That's a good girl, yes ... you're taking my cock so well, told you " he chuckles, caressing her hair. " You were made for me "

Her gaze darts up to meet him, eyes brimming with tears, pupils blown out with the intense pleasure they both felt in that moment, she darts her tongue over the slit which caused his cock to twitch inside of her mouth, the tip hitting the back of her throat which was then followed by him spilling ropes of cum straight down in a fit of labored breaths and moans, " Take all of it baba, you're such a good girl, take it all "

She laps every drop before pulling back, a trail of spit connecting her mouth to the tip. " Was that better than what you imagined? " she asks with a giggle.

" So much better " He chuckles, hoisting her back up in his arms to finally say what was on his mind. " Run away with me "

" What? " She whispers with wide eyes.

" I'm serious, you can open your own café in Liverpool, I can help you and in this way you can expand more while we can spend our free time together " He said with a pleading gaze, " Baba, I love you more than I can possibly describe, please think about it "

The fleeting thought of moving had crossed her mind more than once, and now - with him looking at her the way he did, with pleading eyes had made her smile and say, " I'll think about it ... but right now, you promised a second round in my bedroom "

He grins, " I thought you'd never ask "

#dominik szoboszlai #dominik szoboszlai smut #dominik szoboszlai imagine #dominik szoboszlai fanfiction

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anjelicawrites · 4 months

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Cringefail Throuple 💡

Decorating Billy’s flat for Christmas is a nightmare because Michael comes prepared with a ruler and a laser level and takes on the role of supervisor. Everything has to be perfect! He even measures the spacing of ornaments on the tree!

Eventually, either reader or Billy start distracting him by blowing him just so the other can actually get the decorations up, and he can fix them later… if he still remembers afterwards.

I have to say, there's more angst at the start than what I originally planned. Fear not, there's enough filth to make up for it!

Warnings: angst, Billy panics a little, quick mention to the car bomb, self-image issues, kissing, oral (male receiving), handjob, ass play, anal (male receiving), hints at cunnilingus.

NSFW and 18+ under the cut!

When Billy comes back home, he can hear the Christmas music through the cheap door of his flat. For a moment he panics, then remembers than now, both you and Michael have a set of keys and you've texted him that you two will be waiting for him. Billy takes a big breath, he's still getting used to have people over to his own place, panicking a bit and he has to tell himself that's you two, who love him and care about him, who will never put bombs in his flat, or his car, if he still owned one.

When he opens the door is greeted by the sight of you, perched on a stack of books, on a chair, intent on putting Christmas decorations on the walls. You're wearing a black jumper, decorated with festive skulls and knee high socks.

"Hello love." He says, over Dolly Parton's singing. "Billy!!!" You turn around, almost losing your footing and Billy has to run to you, his hands around your hips to help you keep your balance. "That's dangerous! Where's Michael?"

It blows his mind that someone as smart as you are, can be so incapable of taking care of themself.

"I've send him on a errand. He was driving me absolutely crazy! He kept moving what I had already set."

Billy looks around his small living room/kitchen area. You've already decorated the small tree near the telly and put Christmas trinkets on all the flat surfaces you can find. There's window decorations as well and now you're nailing fake holly garlands on the walls.

"You don't have to work so hard, you know that?"

Billy blushes as he speaks. Both you and Michael have worked so hard during the finals, he's seen how tired you were, almost burned out, and now, instead of lounging on the sofa, stuffing your face full of chocolate while watching stupid Christmas movies, are decorating his crappy flat.

"Billy." You cup his handsome face in your hands. "You're going to be alone for Christmas, and that breaks my heart, at least you'll be feeling our presences with you."

Billy can feel tears welling up in his eyes, he doesn't deserve you two.

"I don't mind not traveling back to London. I can do without having to deal with all my family for this year. Besides, the pub is going to be opened, I will be swamped with work."

You can hear the tremble in his voice, your heart aching with the knowledge that his family doesn't feel like a safe harbor for him, even though you know both his parents and older sister love him.

"Oh Billy..."

You curl your arms around his neck, your legs finding home around his slim hips, his hands under your arse to sustain your weight, your face against the side of his neck, tears already falling from your eyes.

"Love, don't." He says, voice broken by his own tears.

He manages to sit you on the kitchen table, before hugging you impossibly tight, letting you cry as he tries to not bawl himself, failing. When he feels your arms loosened, he gently cups your face and clumsily tries to dry the mess of tears and make up on your cheeks.

"I must look like a panda." You try to joke as you use the arm of the jumper to dry your nose. "A very cute panda." He kisses your forehead. "Let's go."

His hands go under your arse again, lifting you up as if you weight nothing, before he heads to his small bathroom and positions you on the small cabinet next to the sink. He remains between your splayed legs, his hands grabbing your make up remover and cotton pads to reveal your naked face. You don't like you skin, too many blemishes and imperfections for you to feel comfortable to walk around without, at least, some foundation. Billy loves all of them, all these little marks that draw the picture of you truly are, he's spent hours just kissing all of them, before making gentle love to you. After he's washed your face, he kisses the tip of your nose, his teeth nibbling the tip until you laugh.

"Let's finish before Michael comes home." You tell him. "He's going to be a pain anyway." "What did he do?" He's genuinely curious about the drama. "Ugh! He's just so... gah!" "A perfectionist?" "Lucky that I am in love with him!"

The jingle of Michael's keys is drowned by Bing Crosby singing "Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town", he's not surprised you're repeating the 'You better watch out' line with increasing dread, to Billy's absolute glee.

"We need a bigger garland and the Gävle goat is too close to the Santa and..."

He can't finish the sentence, Billy's hand goes to his waist and he uses Michael's momentum to turn him with his back against the wall, crowding him there.

"Hi genius boy." Billy's body is flushed against Michael's, one hand pushing Michael's glasses over his head, the other bent against the wall, caging the other man there. "Hi Billy." Michael can feel his cock swell at Billy's blatant display of strength; it shouldn't turn him on the way it does, but he's discovered things about himself since he's fallen for Billy, things he's appreciating as the days pass.

The kiss makes Michael's knees tremble, his hands go to Billy's arms to keep himself steady, his mouth already slack, tongue playing with Billy's, filthy moans escaping from their interlocked lips. When Billy grounds his semi-hard cock against Michael's, the Oxford's math genius knows he's done for.

"You coming?" Billy asks, lips worrying the side of Michael's neck left free by his hideous Christmas jumper. "Let me finish here and I'm all yours." As turned on as you are by your lovers's antics, you need to finish, without Michael in your way.

Billy is strong, stronger than Michael is, but he can't throw him over his shoulder, he can only kiss him with ferocity, as he backs him to the bedroom, hands under the jumper, nails raking down his fair skin.

Michael grabs Billy's loose joggers, the two of them almost falling as they slide down Billy's long legs, followed by his boxers, to reveal his, now, fully hard cock, Michael's hand already jacking him with fast motions that make Billy's head spin.

They leave a trail of clothes in their hunger for one another, Michael falls on the bed, legs spread and already on Billy's large shoulders, Billy's tongue licking a fat stripe on Michael's engorged cock, the tip of his tongue licking the cock head like he would a ice cream, his hands on Michael's hips to keep him still, his body deaf to the pain of Michael's heels digging in his back when he deep throats his cock, his muscles tight around the engorged member, Michael's back bowing, hands in Billy's hair, scratching his scalp, pulling at his locks, mewls and whimpers spilling from his parted lips.

Michael wails when Billy's mouth leaves his cock, he was almost ready to come!!!

"Do you want to turn around or lie on your back?"

Michael eyesight is not good enough to see Billy in the dark, without his glasses, but he can imagine the hunger on his lover's face, the slightly reddened skin around his mouth.

"On my back." He manages to say, scrambling back to lie in the middle of the bed. "Great choice." Billy's voice is dark with desire, his pupils enlarged.

He stalks towards Michael, whose legs are already spread, hips pumping against nothing. Thankfully the lube is under the pillow and Billy can pour a liberal amount on Michael's hole, fingers following immediately to prepare him, body pressed on Michael's, lips devouring one another's as his fingers scissor and fuck against Michael's prostate, until he keens, hand curling around his cock to stop himself from coming too soon.

Both men whimper and moan when Billy's cock breaches Michael, slow and deep pushes to open his tight hole, until Billy can feel his lover's muscles giving up, accepting his invasion. It's only in that moment that Billy pulls Michael's legs over his shoulders, folding his long body to start rutting inside of him hard and fast, whimpers and screams music to his ears, spurring him on to fuck Michael even faster, aiming mercilessly for his prostate, reveling in the way Michael's muscles curl around his cock and he has to pump harder, hand around Michael's straining cock, him babbling, his orgasm cresting and cresting, Billy's whimpers spurring him on, until Michael's body bows, ropes and ropes of cum spurting from his cock, Billy following him with a long whimper, hips fucking him sloppily, until he falls next to him, breathless.

You find them on the bed, Billy's head on Michael's chest, the picture of debauchery and, if possible, your cunt is even wetter, their moans and whimpers loud enough to cover the music, making you rush through the last decorations, so that you can join them.

"Love?" Michael's voice is strained from having screamed so much. "Yes?" You answer, absentmindedly. "We need to space the ornaments better on the tree." "Oh bollocks!" Billy swears, arms covering his eyes.

You throw your panties in their general direction, before removing your jumper and socks. You saunter to the bed, right where Michael is laying, still droning about all the Christmas trinkets in the flat.

"Michael?" He owlishly stares at you, eyes not truly focusing without his glasses, as you straddle his face. "Put that tongue, and mouth, to a better use, will you?"

Cringefail throuple taglist: @fan-goddess

#cringefail throuple #billy washington x reader x michael gavey #billy washington x y/n x michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x y/n #billy washington x reader #billy washington x y/n #michael gavey #billy washington

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ponyosmom35 · 4 months

Text

welcome home - Simon Ghost Riley x reader

pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Liability series chapter twenty four

Liability series:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

She was ecstatic to lead Simon inside, to show him around. Unsure where to begin. She turns to something out and notices him carrying the massive package into the house without the slightest hint of struggle. “Where do you want this love?”

“Oh my god just set it here, thank you” she points to the wall “you didn’t have to do that” she responds, rubbing her hands together nervously.

“No problem” he shrugs, “what have you got that’s so big?”

“Oh uh thats my bookshelf, I’m turning my office into a library” she smiles

“How were you planning on gettin that to the office?” he teases

“I hadn’t gotten that far”

“Noted” he smirks, placing a band on her lower back “I’d love a tour”

“Right!” she squeaks, her face blushing madly at the feeling of his hand.

She shows Simon the kitchen and all the organizing she’d done in her spare time. As she continues throughout the house explaining everything in what to most would be far too much detail, Simon’s heart swelled. He loved to listen to her talk, it was clear she put a lot of thought into making her space feel warm and welcome. Everything he saw, every decoration, wall print, even the paint color all made sense. It was so beautifully her. He’d never felt so instantly comfortable in an unfamiliar space before.

She shows him her office where the bookshelf would be and explains her vision, clearly unhappy with the current state of the room. She shows him her bedroom and he takes note of her shift in body language and red cheeks. It was reassuring to him that he had such an effect on her. She leads him down to the steps once more and brings him through downstairs and out to the backdoor. She opens it and they step out onto her deck.

“So this is the backyard, its a work in progress, my parents and I have been working on it. It looks weird now but trust me there’s a vision” she reassures

“This is beautiful” he notes

The thoughtful placement of the flowers and the nearly completed stone path leading to the gorgeous willow tree. He could see freshly dug holes where her flowers would bloom in the coming weeks.

“Thank you! I’m really happy with it, after the path my plan is to redo my entire deck, I want to have an area out here where I can sit out here and read” she says

“That sounds nice”

“I think so too” she nods before looking up at him “do you wanna go inside and sit, you must be exhausted”

“Sure” he smiles

“Can I get you anything? Water, tea, I don’t have beer but I can Instacart some”

“Water would be nice”

“Coming right up!” she grabs him a glass of water while he walks into the living room and sits on the couch, taking note of the TV, playing her music on shuffle. After a minute or so she returns with a bowl of oreos.

“My favorite, thank you love”

“I know” she muses as she sits on the other side of the couch, sitting with her legs crossed as she leans her head on her hands.

“How are you?” she asks

“I should be asking you that question”

“I’m doing good” she admits softly, rubbing her hands together.

“I’m glad to hear that” his eyes searched hers for any sign that she might not be telling the full truth.

“Yeah me too, it’s been hard. Nights are the worst but I’m okay, really” she breathes, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. He reaches over and grabs her hand, holding it gently in his own. She smiles softly and moves his hand to her cheek, leaning into his warm skin.

“I missed you” she murmurs

“You have no idea how hard it was to watch you leave, I wish I could’ve been here sooner” he says

“I don’t blame you”

“I should’ve been there, should’ve seen it comin’” he admits, referring to Las Almas.

“Don’t say that Simon, there’s absolutely no way you would’ve known Graves and Shepard were dirty”

“It’s my job to protect you, and I - I didn’t”

“But you did! You saved my life, as soon as I heard your voice a part of me knew I was gonna be okay, that you weren’t going to let anything happen. I was so fucking scared but I still knew that I was gonna be okay. Nobody in this world makes me feel the way that you do” she replies, her words holding so much more meaning than just that day. Recalling back to every moment she spent with him. “Even now, it’s like all of the nightmares and memories, they’re nothing. Sitting here with you makes me feel protected, I feel more secure than I have in months”

“I feel the same” he admits “This place feels familiar to me, like I’ve been here before”

“That’s because it’s been waiting for you” she nearly whispers, looking at him with all the love in the world “I’ve been waiting for you, for so long”

“I’m here now” he murmurs as he gently pulls her closer to him, moving the pillow that separated them to the ground. “Don’t plan on leaving anytime soon”

“Really?” she asks hopefully as he places a hand on her face, trialing his thumb from her lips to her jaw. “As long as you’ll have me” he responds

Simon closes the distance between their lips and kisses her gently. Her hands move to his chest as he pulls her closer. She swings a leg around him and moves to place herself in his lap, with her hands guiding her. As she settles he smirks at the little gasp she lets out at the feeling of him beneath her. His hands fall to her waist, groaning as she involuntarily rocks her body against him. He pulls back and looks at her, smiling softly.

“What?” she asks breathlessly

“Fucking gorgeous” he says kissing her once more. However this one was much shorter, as he didn’t want things to get too carried away. He pulls her into his chest and holds her there, wrapping his arms around her body as she curls into him.

“Welcome home Si” she whispers in his ear

Both understood that this was their home. The beginning of their new life together.

Tag list:@vivi123abc

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wooahaes · 6 months

Text

melted sugar

pairing: non-idol!hyunjin x gn!reader

genre: fluff + established relationship

word count: 0.7k~

warnings: food mentions. hyunjin down horrendous.

daisy's notes: men......... <3

Hyunjin liked to linger behind you as he watched you work carefully. Sure, he couldn’t help you with making candy, but… It was fascinating to see you work your magic.

Chris had invited the two of you to this little spooky get-together about a week or two ago now, and the day had finally arrived. You’d brought up making your own Halloween candy that day, too, and—with Chris’s permission and any allergies taken into account—you’d woken up this morning with the plans to spend the next few hours hard at work. Hyunjin had come in shortly after, standing by to supervise (more-so in the ‘make sure you don’t burn the shit out of yourself’ way than anything else) with his phone next to him in case of emergencies.

He rested his head in his hand, watching as you were now working with melted sugar. You’d already made fudge the night before that he’d sliced up into cute little squares. “Why don’t you ever do this for me?”

“You never asked.”

He felt a tiny smile tug at his lips at how casual you were in saying it. You weren’t exactly wrong, after all. “Would you?”

“Make you candy?” You glanced over your shoulder for a moment, and then shrugged as you turned back to your work. “I dunno. Maybe for your birthday or something. It’s kind of a hassle sometimes, but I’d do it for you.”

His heart swelled at the sentiment, so sweetly spoken as simple as anything else. Sure, he could maybe lovingly nag you a little for openly doing this for Chris’s party of all things (do you like him more than me?), but he knew you’d just repeat your little ‘you never asked’ statement again. He smiled a little wider, head resting in his hands as he admired you while you weren’t looking. Hyunjin wasn’t afraid to admire you openly, sure, but he liked having these little moments. It reminded him of how the two of you were before you started dating, where Hyunjin admired you from afar and caught himself thinking often about the way your eyes glittered with joy over things like this. He’d watched you draw out your designs for other things that he could help you decorate with little piping bags.

Maybe one day the two of you could decorate shortbread cookies together. He’d seen plenty of those little videos of people decorating them in elaborate ways… Maybe you could teach him. The two of you could draw up designs together, and he’d use it as an excuse to stay close to you for a while. Not that he needed the excuse: he was just fine with doing what he was doing now. He liked sharing this space with you and admiring you hard at work. If he listened closely, he could always hear you softly singing under your breath as you worked. It always made him want to get closer to you. When you were cooking normally, he would: he’d come up behind you, and settle in to watch you work, arms wrapped around your frame. But not, with you working with sugar… He’d save it for later.

He glanced over to the squares of fudge, placed just out of his reach. The moment he began to stretch his arm out, you looked up—not at him, but as though you’d heard him moving despite the fact he swore he was dead silent. A moment later, you look back down, one hand reaching out for the dye near you. Hyunjin smiled to himself, stealing a piece of fudge and popping it into his mouth.

“All you have to do is ask, Jinnie.”

He nearly choked for a moment, jerking in surprise. “You didn’t even hear me!”

“I can sense it,” you teased. “I made extra. Just don’t go crazy.”

“And if I do?” He smirked, teasing you back. “What if I don’t want to share with the others? Hm? You’re my partner. They should get their own if they want someone to cook for them—”

Your laugh cut him off there, and he found himself smiling that soft, sappy smile all over again. You’d tease him if you saw it, he knew that you would, so he was enjoying being able to just admire you. “So possessive,” you hummed. “I’m not going anywhere, y’know.”

“I know,” he rested his head in his hand again. The fudge that melted on his tongue… But he would always think that your presence in his life was sweeter.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm @jinnie-ret

#wooahaes.fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz x you #stray kids imagine #skz fics #stray kids fics #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x you #wooahaes.fall23

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tac-bat · 1 year

Text

Why I love How Sky Portrays Death

Before I start, I go into detail about death and loss, and description of the afterlife and dying and examples of it in sky and a little mention of religion irl.

I wrote this while sleep deprived if this makes no sense, i'm not sorry

Take this all with a grain of salt as this is purely my observation and interpretation

To many, death is scary, unpredictable, and inevitable. Death is frightening because it represents the end of life, the loss and grief it brings, and the uncertainty of where we will go. Every religion has its own version of the afterlife, from our soul moving to a new body, places ranging from rewarding good and punishing evil, to simply being nothing. Death is scary because we'll never truly know what lies beyond or what awaits. It's complicated ,heavy, and it's something that many have delved deeper into too. I only bring this up because the sky not only answers, but embraces death. How? Let's take a look.

Orbit

Sky's interpretation of the afterlife is perfect. "All are given breath by starlight," as stated in the intro mural, everyone ends up back in the stars someday, becoming spirits that travel to this small part of the galaxy. They even seem to become one with the light and stars if they so please. And it's relaxing; it's soothing.

They know it exists.

Spirit's have shown from the beginning of the game that they can descend and ascend whenever they please. See all TS's, Grandma, and event spirits like Yeti, who appear briefly during Feast to cast a snowman spell before ascending. According to this logic, orbit is widely known because ancestors were bound to descend to explain what happens. And spirits aren't gone from their loved ones' lives; they're still present. They're not gone and can visit anytime they like; it's not hard for me to imagine them visiting others during holidays and events.

Gravestone's

In every social space, there are gravestones for every base-game ancestor. What's interesting is how they're laid out; unlike regular graveyards, which are organized in a line, none of the graves are uniform, some being lengths apart. This is very clear in Prarie, with one near the closet and another nestled in a cave; even irl graveyards that are less uniform don't tend to put burials that far away, but Sky does. It almost seems like an ancestor could've possibly chosen the placement themselves. You also have the special burial site at the 8-player door, a working elevator and all, the graves have their own little buildings and stones draped in gold, implying a ceremony as we know. Not only that, but Valley's way of honouring death is extremely interesting.

Let's talk about Samekh's temple

Valley really demonstrates how death is viewed—not in a morbid way but in an honourable way. The hallways of both races are lined with gravestones, with the exception of some open spaces. When compared to decorations such as the eight-player door, the gravestones themselves are painted in gold. They're unlike any graves seen so far, and you can argue that these were reserved for champions, and if so, I feel like the halls would be packed considering this is the valley of triumph, but no, there are still a few open spaces. Which makes me adore how there are gravestones in the twin's temple.

Their temple is the only one that not only has gravestones inside, but is lined with them! And considering their position and how we know they play a big role in the sky as leaders, to the point where they have a temple, it makes the fact they share it as an ancestor's final resting place so heartwarming to me. They were under no obligation to place gravestones; they could have dragged the banners down, added more statues, or even designed something similar to Daleth's temple like the murals we see, but they didn't. They allowed the room with their shrine to be a graveyard, they value their people's lives; they regard it as an honour, and whether those are the graves of champions or ordinary people, they value them all the same.

And it still hurts.

Even in the sky, where the question of death is answered, it still hurts.

It hurts when Mindful and a Tearful miner witness the deaths of their friends, Tearful having to bury their own. It hurts when Teabrewer returns with herbs for their loved one who died while they were away, so much so that they become anxious when they leave anyone alone, as seen in their info card. It's horrifying to know how many ancestors died in the war with no way to escape, faced with the fear of death every day.

Death is still scary in Sky, and I love it for that. Even when you know where you'll go, you still value your life; you don't want to die, and you don't want to go. But when that time comes, when you choose to be one with the universe, or roam your home with your star-kissed body, you'll never be alone. And that's why I adore the way death is depicted:

Because it's bittersweet.

#i spent way to long on this but head full #head very full #sky cotl #sky children of the light #skyblr #valley twins #valley elders #valley of triumph #daylight prairie #sky spirits #death mention #tw death #sky: cotl #sky: children of the light #tac rambles #tac art #?

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iibonniee · 7 months

Text

Forgive Me Father, For I Have Sinned

Pairing: Lee Minhyuk x Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: priest!minhyuk, priest kink, fingering, spanking, oral (both receiving) unprotected sex, anal, cum eating, creampie

Rating: R

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: Y/N only knew of one Priest who would help her get rid of her sins on such short notice.

Masterlist | Tags: @beautifulworldandmore @kyunnielove @iamkyunie @doveslittlekpoparchive @dessianna1

The beautiful home sat tall and strong, almost beckoning anyone to come forth if they dared. Now wasn’t the time to run from this place. She had to go in and confess her sins to the man just beyond the door. She had done far too much over the past week alone, which caused worry that not even the Lord himself would forgive her.

The walk up the driveway seemed to stretch forever, but in reality, it was no more than ten seconds before she found herself in front of the handsome, double wooden doors. Her heart pounded like a war drum in her chest. Should she retreat into the inviting shadows, allow her wrongdoings to entirely consume her, and leave her wavering on the edge? The question danced in her mind, tugging at her resolve’s ratty fabric. While a part of her trembled at the thought of such brutal honesty, she shook her head, dismissing the cowardly thoughts.

No. It was not an option. Inhaling a deep, shaky breath, she fixed her gaze on the towering wooden doors. She must step into the heart of her redemption, bear her soul to the heat of judgment, and plead to be bathed in the balm of divine forgiveness.

She had to go in and ask to be forgiven.

She couldn’t stand another sleepless night. So she moved forward, opening the beautiful wooden door. The home was silent and empty beside a male who sat on the couch in the middle of his living room. His attention didn’t falter when the door opened. Instead, he continued with his reading.

“Excuse me?” She cleared her throat, attempting to catch his attention. Beautiful brown eyes caught hers with ease. She swore her heart skipped a bit. She’s heard so many stories about this place. This home, his home. How can he save even the person who was practically drowning in sin?

But her mind raced down a dark path. It was far too fast for her to stop it. She couldn’t allow it to go anymore.

“May I help you, miss?” Concern creased his brow as he gestured for her to enter. Her feet seemed to move on their own, maintaining a slow and hesitant pace. As she approached him, she couldn’t help but marvel at the house’s elegance. The decorated windows refracting a rainbow of hues, the high, vaulted ceilings, and the countless rows of framed pictures, each one recounting its own tale, dominated the grand space. She nearly swallowed her gasp, absorbed by the array of memories etched in each frame. “Miss?”

“I—I apologize,” she mumbled, her eyes downcast, unable to meet his sharp gaze. Her heart pounded frantically against her ribs, a sign of her escalating emotions. Through a trembling internal haze, she noted just how close he had got to her — close enough for her to be swept up in his aura and to sense, with startling vividness, every line etched on his face. “It was my hope,” she continued, her voice barely a whisper, thick with remorse, “that I could seek refuge here, that perhaps my sins might be forgiven.”

He gave her a soft smile as he closed his book. His eyes were so brown and pure compared to her own. Hers screamed how corrupt she was. How deep into sin she allowed herself to fall. She found herself in a disgusting pit, surrounded by sin. She wasn’t sure she could be saved.

She might have been a goner.

“All sins can be forgiven.” He gestured for her to stand before him, which she did with such hesitance. He gave her a comforting smile and a small nod. “Kneel before me.”

She stood still, momentarily hesitant, as she eyed his face for a sign to run. Anything. When she noted his comforting smile never changed, she listened to him.

“Tell me, child,” He took a moment to glance at her before looking up at the ceiling in thought. “What have you done to make God frown upon you?”

“Greed,” she began, her voice barely more than a whisper as a flush of embarrassment quickly painted her face a vivid scarlet. Then she paused, taking a moment to clear her throat before she continued, “I’ve offered false testimony… lied, stolen, disrespected His sacred name, and fallen prey to my own envy, among other things.”

She could feel his eyes on her and wondered if he wanted to judge her. Her list was long. It had been far too long, so maybe she had already confirmed her spot in hell. His silence made her feel uneasy. It made her squirm as he turned to the cross, letting out a small chant.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I’d do anything to get back into his good graciousness.” She looked at him with pleading eyes. With how he looked at her, she was unsure if she could. She was worried there was not a chance for her to be saved.

“It does seem overwhelming,” he admitted, clearing his throat as his gaze averted momentarily. She watched him silently as he shut his eyes, seemingly gathering his composure. Then he swiveled back towards her, his decision set. “We must cleanse you of these sins as soon as possible. The longer we wait, the more that must be done.”

His statement hung heavily in the air, punctuated by a palpable silence. She felt a jolt of worry, a current of dread coursing through her veins. She gulped quietly, feeling the weight of her sins pressing down on her. But despite her hesitation, a part of her understood. She readied herself with his words echoing in her head, nodding slowly. She was ready to face the consequences, no matter how daunting they appeared.

With a slight gleam of approval in his eyes, he smiled reassuringly. “Come on,” he prompted, patting his knee with a surprising gentleness, “Ass up.” His words, a strange mix of stern command and understated compassion, nudged her slowly toward her imminent redemption.

She almost choked on her spit at his words, “E-Excuse me?”

“You must be punished for your sins so I can help you start a new chapter. So please make this easy for me so I can help clear you over your sins.”

“Is this really necessary, Father…”

“Father Lee. And it is. It’s your first step in becoming a new person.”

Pausing briefly to collect her thoughts, she reflected upon the depth of her current predicament. It seemed only fitting to see it through to the end. Listening to his command, she positioned herself over his knees, her body exposed in this vulnerable state. When the first resounding smack echoed against the hallowed house walls, she couldn’t suppress the sharp hiss that escaped her lips, the sting of it all bordering on tear-inducing.

In the almost silent home, the man’s muffled murmurs mixed with the sounds of additional slaps gracing her skin. This fiery sensation was a novelty, each slap carving a fresh imprint onto her already singed skin. After the initial count reached five, she battled with an unexpected feeling. The warmth coursing through her lower half brought a surge of arousal, a sensual moistness awakening a dormant desire. This sacred confession had inadvertently morphed into a journey of self-discovery, with her body reacting in ways she’d never expected.

“P-Please.” She wasn’t sure what she was even begging for anymore. The stinging was sending unknown pleasures throughout her body. She craved more, and she absolutely hated it. She was here to be forgiven, not to act like a slut horny for more. But she couldn’t help it. Her body was screaming for more, completely used to the sting.

“What was that?” He hummed, rubbing her ass. His voice was husky as he turned to look at her jeaned-covered ass. “Could it be,” he ventured, his voice a low, tantalizing rumble that made her heart flutter, “that it’s not your own sound begging for more, but the consuming wicked want within you, begging to draw out this confession?” His inquiry, cloaked in suggestive undercurrents, bathed the cathedral in a layer of intoxicating audaciousness, washing over her like a sinful benediction. “God wouldn’t want a whore in my home, now, would he? The one I Christened so well? And you come in here and put filth all over it. Is that what you want?”

“No.” she gasped, her breath hitching as he unbuckled her jeans. His eyebrow arched noticeably as his fingers brushed against the soaked fabric of her scarlet underwear.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” he drawled, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Did my discipline work you up to this extent?” Uncertainty coursed through her, struggling to decipher if he was disgusted by her arousal or intrigued by it. She was helpless against her body’s reactions. “What did we discuss about lustful behavior?”

She barely gasped as one of his fingers plunged into her without warning. “Depraved,” he growled out, a tone that held both reprimand and a hint of pleasure. Ignoring her attempts to muffle her escalating moans, he scoffed lightly before adding another digit. Her body convulsed forward with each relentless, rough thrust of his fingers. “A wanton display, even beyond my reach,” he murmured, his words laced with regret and a touch of wicked delight. “And you want to be saved so badly.”

“I-I’m sorry,” She whimpered, all pretense of reverence lost under the icy stare of the man receiving her confession. His fingers were weaving an intoxicating spell, each masterful stroke sending her jolts of pleasure. Her entire body was aflame with desire, blurring the line between pleasure and sin. Briefly, she found herself contemplating whether the devil himself would reserve her a spot in hell; it felt almost like a certainty now.

“You’re sorry? Hardly,” he murmured, amusement lacing his tone, “You’re on the brink, ready cum all over my fingers like a filthy whore. Saving seems a fleeting dream now, doesn’t it?” His words, spoken so soft yet cutting through her like a hot knife, were underscored by another crisp slap against her ass. She uttered a sharp cry when his fingers abandoned her, leaving her on the cusp of an epiphany she had not yet granted. “I don’t think a filthy whore like you can be saved.”

His words, feather-soft but slicing through her like a blade, were punctuated by another stinging slap against ass. She writhed where she lay, letting out a keening moan when his fingers cruelly withdrew, which was already aching with her denied climax. The irresistible torment was almost unbearable. Longing for relief, she whimpered, staring back at him through tear-filled eyes, her body crying out for the next installment of their sinful exchange.

“On your knees,” he commanded. Obediently, she slipped from his lap and knelt before him, her gaze straying upward as he rose to his full height. The wickedness of his hard-on, stark against the fabric of his trousers, was a sight to see. She hadn’t realized how he’d been affected when she sat on his lap, too entangled in her heady pleasure. His dick was hard, a bead of pre-cum gathering at the tip. She looked up at him, a silent question glimmering in her eyes: How would her sucking his hard cock cleanse her? But he didn’t provide an answer. No sooner had she parted her lips to voice her question than he plunged his throbbing length into the soft deepness of her mouth, his fingers lacing through her hair, guiding her along his journey as he dived deeper into her throat, eliciting choked noises.

“Damn…” He groaned lowly, utilizing her hot mouth as an unholy altar.

Panting heavily, she aimed to regain her breath, but it seemed he wouldn’t permit her such a break. Her mouth was his playground - his to destroy as he pleased. And all she could do was kneel obediently, hoping somehow, this act could atone for her sins. Through wet, lashed eyes, she glimpsed him, head thrown back in ecstasy, lips bitten in an enticing display of lust. This sight alone sparked a wave of desire that washed over her, a dying need to touch herself. But just as her hands started wandering down her body…

“Divinity shuns those who indulge themselves,” He rasped, his previously shut eyes now bearing into her, cold brown eyes reprimanding her removed fingers. “You seek atonement, don’t you?” His words, muffled by his heaving breaths, made it hard for her to retort. “I’m merely cleansing all the deceit from your tainted lips.”

Even amidst his speech, his relentless assault on her mouth didn’t cease, small grunts escaping his clenched teeth each time his length delved deeper into her throat. His mutterings left her unsure if he was whispering silent prayers or merely singing her praises under his breath.

His fervor was a sacred and profane ritual, an unhallowed symphony of sin intertwined with her willing surrender, underlined by the rhythmic request of his carnal pleasure. Fucked as she was, she tasted the rush of warmth flooding her mouth as he jerked within it. The suddenness of his release caught her off-guard, leaving a bitter aftertaste of sin and satisfaction.

“Swallow it, every drop,” His eyes, once a soft chestnut, had transformed into a darker, molten hue. He guided her up with sharp motions until she was leaned against the couch armrest.

“For the finale, darling, you must behave,” he crooned, his voice a sinful brew of command and temptation. Her acknowledgment came as a meek nod, her thighs trembling from anticipation as she felt the insistent prod of his now hard-on at her entrance. He slid into her with agonizing slowness, halting midway - a tormenting tease designed to test her patience, her body.

“Please…” Her plea was a desperate whisper, eyes welling up with pent-up need. Was he getting himself off someone from making her beg, from keeping her dangling on the edge of relief? Her body thrummed with an intensity she had never known, desperate for release for him.

“Gospels command patience. Shouldn’t you do the same?”

“Father Lee…” She attempted to grind her hips, her body yearning for friction, for him – but he stopped her moving. Sanity threatened to abandon her as she was consumed by the spiraling whirlpool of need. His grip tightened, jerking her gaze to meet the decorative wall before her. She counted each agonizingly slow heartbeat, silently begging for him to move, for him to grant her the pleasure she was painfully seeking. The silence was only broken by their panting breaths, time slowly drifting away while they were soaked in their wicked violation and the sacred silence of the home.

“Beggers find no mercy,” His voice was carnally set, a vulnerable undertone threatening to fracture into lustful musings. “Even those who wriggle and writhe denied their anticipated erotic pleasure.”

His hand landed a sharp spank on her ass, eliciting an intoxicating cry from her lips. The sting of recollection blossomed a new, urging her neediness to spiral. Yet, she maintained her silence, mesmerized by each detail of the photos on the wall. As if her prayer was answered, he ruthlessly thrust himself into her cunt with a force that threatened her grip on the soft couch. His rhythm was brutal, starkly differing with his iron grip on her waist.

“D-Damn…” Her whimpers laced the unholy atmosphere but were never ignored. Instead, his fingers twisted in her hair again, compelling her to keep her gaze fixed ahead of her. An odd sense of gratitude surged through her – for the ethereal aura radiating from the family portraits adorning the walls. These portraits had curiously paved the way for her encounter with this captivating tormentor of a man with a relentless hold over her senses. He was leading her down the path of unspoken pleasure with an intensity that overlooked anything. With each relentless thrust, her lips participated in prayers that acknowledged her gratefulness.

He was merciless, granting her no time to become accustomed to the invasive feeling of him inside her. It felt like an enchanting form of punishment, the relentless anticipation he’d brewed now subdued by his vigorous thrusts alone. His low groans filled her ears, killing her ability to maintain coherent thought, especially as his hand landed a firm spank on her already sensitive ass. If this path of sinfulness promised her the completion of absolute pleasure, she’d willingly sacrifice her devotion again and again.

A surge of heat threatened to overwhelm her again in what felt like the umpteenth climax within an hour. She climbed to ecstasy, rocking very close on the brink of her release. With a level of quickness that irked her, he sensed her impending explosion and abruptly halted his thrusts. The abrupt end drew a strangled cry from her lips, her mind darting towards violent fantasies against her tormentor.

“Did you say your prayers?” He mocked, a devilish grin on his features.

“With God as my witness-”

“A tut, tut for you,” His hand kneaded her ass, drawing a growl from her. “Appreciation must be offered for the pleasure received. For his sinful generosity. Are you showing gratitude, my dear?”

“Yes.” She squeaked, her teeth biting her lower lip to suppress her cries.

“Where was I?” He murmured, returning to his punishing rhythm. A strangled yelp passed her lips when his fingers danced over her clit. She was on the brink, dangerously close to her release. Then she spiraled into ecstasy with one brutal lash of his hips.

Her fingers dug into the couch with such ferocity that they imprinted on her skin. Pleasured trembles wracked her frame as the floodgates of ecstasy broke, rendering her speechless. Amid her climax, she could barely muster the strength to remain upright, relying almost entirely on his iron-like grip. His own release soon followed, filling her way beyond her grasp.

Her wail echoed within the sacred walls when he withdrew, leaving her empty and craving more. But her pleas quickly morphed into curses as he shuffled her around, presenting her ass to him. Without warning, he entered.

“W-what-”

“Shhh.” He hushed her as he pushed deeper into her uncharted territory.

Pain bounced like lightning through her body, compelling her to plead. “Father Lee,” she whimpered, tears glistening as she turned back and stared at him. However, something sinful inside her began to stir once more at the sight of his swollen cock sliding in and out of her ass, aided by the sight of his cum covered cock.

It was a peculiar sensation, a blend of agony and pleasure that left her breathless. Despite her initial protest, she found herself spiraling closer toward another climax – a testament to his sinful touch.

“Touch yourself. Don’t let my cum I gave you drip anymore out of your pretty pussy and down your legs.” he commanded, his voice a sinful rumble.

Realizing her shameless act sent quick shivers of strange delight through her. Her fingers entered her wet cunt, eagerly trying to collect and keep every drop of him from her previous climactic episode. The edge of euphoria was near, so close within reach. Her touch was not a patch on his expert strokes, but they did their sensual dance, driving her wild.

The whimpers and murmured pleas that escaped her painted the room with sinful tones of pleasure. His ongoing relentless thrusts sent her skin ablaze; each movement drew her closer to the brink. Her wails amplified as the second wave of orgasm washed over her, deafening every other sense. She barely felt his position change, shifting to kneel behind her, his eager lips instantly making contact with her dripping cunt.

A gasp ripped through her as his sinful tongue lapped their combined cum. His thick digits invaded her moist cunt, the sensation magnified tenfold compared to her own as he repeated his previous rhythm. His forceful grip kept her pressed against the arm of the couch. The wave of explosive pleasure tingling every nerve made her body radiate heat, on the verge of a shattering climax. Her already clouded senses were drowned further into an abyss at the sight of his penetrating gaze landing on her, the lewd slurping sounds making her crave more. A twist of his fingers wrung choked sobs from her.

She felt her coherent self-fragmenting on the cusp of the third wave of tremors. Her eyes clamped shut as a resounding cry tore through her once more. Not merely a climax, but a gushing release, overwhelming her senses. Her flushed face radiated heat, light-headedness seeping in. Faint kisses scattered along her sensitive thighs brought her back from her daze. Facing his now-standing figure, he flashed an endearing smile before leaning in for a hot, fervid kiss, a taste of their shared indulgence, a potent reminder of her sin.

Drawing back slightly, he cradled her face, his gaze lingering over her rosy, swollen lips and parted mouth, still gasping for air. His fingers traced a path down her flushed skin until they reached her neck, feeling her pulse hammering against his fingertips under the delicate skin. He smirked at her, his eyes glinting with unshielded admiration and satisfaction.

“You were spectacular,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his words laced with implicit desire.

Her heart hammered in her chest as his words washed over her, the undertones of pure lust driving her wild even after the relentless tides of pleasure had ostensibly drained her. She swallowed hard as his thumb grazed her bottom lip, her breath hitching.

“On your knees, love.” he commanded, his tone gentle but with a hint of undeniable authority. His swollen cock was already growing hard once more, twitching in anticipation of what would come next.

Her body obeyed his command without a second thought, her slippery descent to the cold wooden floor teasing the oversensitized skin between her thighs, reminding her of their shared momentum. Although spent, her body tingled with renewed desire. Eyes locked on his hardened cock, she obeyed, ready to indulge in him again.

Her hands were falling on his naked thighs, feeling the taut muscles twitch under her touch, the irresistible texture of his skin making her feel dizzy with desire. With her head tilted up, her eyes met his, and the intensity of his gaze made her heart skip a beat.

Slowly, she stretched out her tongue, connecting with the veined length. The first contact drew a hissed breath from him, and his body tensed. Evidence of their previous lovemaking provided a slick slide for her fingers as she gingerly curled them around him and began to stroke.

Tasting him in her mouth was heaven and hell combined— addictive, dangerous. A shiver of anticipation ran through her body as she realized the control she walked on a knife edge. His groans, the tenseness in his legs, the throbbing pulse beneath her touch, all seemed to suggest that he might lose control.

Her hand moved in rhythm with her mouth, lost in the bliss of her desire, licking and tasting her way down his cock. The intoxicating smell of musk, overlaid with their shared scent, filled her air, rendering her senses into a heightened frenzy.

Her pulse quickened at the rasping groan that unraveled from his lips; it was like the sweetest sin. Letting her gaze rise to meet his, she was met with a look of raw desire, the sight a more potent aphrodisiac than any other.

Caught in the passion of earthly pleasure, his once-controlled composure wavered, breaking the tenor of his character. He let out a raspy growl so powerful it was a sin on its own. Locking his gaze with hers, he let the mask of control drop, revealing a raw longing that sent her pulse racing.

Shrouded in ecstasy, he gasped, “God, you’re good… Too damn good,” his tones layered with sinful gratification, evident of the pleasure she was giving him. “Don’t stop.”

His cock in her mouth, throbbing and twitching was a testament to the pleasure that was building, and the urgency in his tone as he gasped out her name only served to push her further. Her senses were bathed in him, in them, making every sound that came from him feel louder.

An intoxicating feedback, where every groan or sharp intake of breath from him sent electric and torturous waves of need coursing through her. The subtle scrape of her teeth along his hard cock forced a guttural growl from his chest, compelling her to a quick pace.

Her tongue swirled around his tip, leisurely tracing the veins along his cock. At the same time, her fingers danced over the base of his dick, teasing him unmercifully.

With each lap of her tongue, each stroke of her hand, the dam of his restraint began to fracture further. He was on the cusp of cumming, a push she was mercilessly intent on sending him over. She could taste his approaching release on her tongue— a salty promise that encouraged her to delve even deeper, to push the looming edge into a purging plummet. The intensity of his gaze bore into her, the mixture of need, longing, and sheer raw desire, etching an invisible contract of surrender.

Coherent words evaded him, replaced by a string of incoherent mewls, moans, and gasps. His primal sounds echoed within the room, becoming a testament to the needy pleasure she was producing. Supported by his loss of control, she continued her rhythmic dance with his cock, expert strokes designed to drive him to insanity.

His hands tangled in her hair gave a harsh yank, evoking a moan from her that resounded against him, the vibrations adding an entirely new dimension to his pleasure. It was a power play— an exquisite balancing act between authority and submission, and one she relished in fervently.

With a final, fervent stroke of her tongue, his hips bucked into her mouth. His growl echoed through the room, his eyes screwed shut as he succumbed to the overwhelming tide of pleasure. Without breaking his gaze, she swallowed his cum with a smirk of satisfaction.

Her tongue traced a final, potent path along his length, eliciting a violent thrust from his hips that nearly disjointed him from the floor beneath. His growl ricocheted off the walls, his eyelids clamping shut as he yielded to the formidable surge of bliss. Yet, through his closed eyes, their connection remained unbroken, a tangible tether in the throes of shared ecstasy.

As he fell from his climax, his chest heaving, she released him, staring up at him through her lashes.

Falling down to sit on the couch, he looked at her through slightly hooded eyes, a post-sex haze still lingering. Minhyuk’s features softened into a tender, contented smile. His usually vibrant eyes were now drowsy and serene, reflecting a whole heart and brimming with happiness. Still, even in his satiety, he couldn’t completely suppress his typical, mischievous self.

Still panting lightly, he threw his head back against the plush cushion of the couch, his honey-toned skin aglow in the dim room.

“Phew, love, you sure know how to wear a man out.” He playfully chuckled, a sound that warmed her from the inside. The lighthearted teasing, and the enthusiasm of his personality shone through every word, adding an endearing charm to the still-charged atmosphere.

His gaze, now softened and relaxed, returned to her. He beckoned her over softly, opening his arms to warmly envelop her. As she tentatively moved, he wrapped her in a tight but comforting embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing lullaby.

Basking in the afterglow, Minhyuk lowered his gaze and found her eyes wandering over his figure. Grinning, he shook his head and muttered a soft, “You’re insatiable,” though his voice had no real reprimand. His fire had been momentarily satisfied, but the embers of desire still smoldered, ready to ignite once more at her slightest touch.

“And remember,” he mumbled, the words heavy with exhaustion and satisfaction. She watched as he sat up and blinked, the once previous tiredness now long gone as he smirked at her, his brown eyes laced with want and need, “We’ve only just begun. I still have so much cum to give you and so many other ideas to try. You might fall pregnant by the end of the night. Who knows.”

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