#wish i was tranquil as a forest
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tripably · 8 months ago
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the all-consuming rage of having to report an issue with a service provider and being treated like an absolute idiot by the customer service jerk
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ghostedbunnie · 3 months ago
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nightmare in the daylight
knight!ghost x fem!reader
based on my prompt that you can find here.
warnings: non-con/dub-con, size kink, spanking, oral (f.receiving), fingering (f.receiving), thigh riding, biting, creampie, breeding kink
a/n: i feel so rusty so please be gentle i rewrote this way too many times, it was a lot longer and had more plot but i might just end up writing pt.2 if there is interest, I added a tag list for those who wanted to see this! 🫶
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Ghost hadn't anticipated encountering a robbery on the forest trail while en route to collect his king's future wife. It was unexpected but not unwelcome; he was yearning for a skirmish, for blood and broken bones. The recent tranquility had left him restless. These bandits wouldn't pose much of a challenge, but they would at least satisfy his craving.
The skies began to pour as soon as he dismounted from his horse, startling the highwaymen. They were engaged in a one-sided fight with a few knights who had undoubtedly been sent to protect the carriage on its way to his kingdom. Before any of them could react to his arrival, heads started rolling. Chaos erupted once more, with screams of terror cutting through the forest and startling the remaining fauna.
After the final enemy fell to a sword through his abdomen, Ghost approached the carriage with slow, deliberate steps. As he opened the door, he was taken by surprise as a curtain was thrown into his face and a shard of glass was aimed for his neck by a scrawny, wild-looking maid. Despite your trembling, there was a fierce determination in your eyes, a vow that you would not give up without a struggle. Beneath his face plate, the corner of his mouth curled up, and with a wry snort, he deflected the shard from your bleeding hand. Seizing you by the back of your neck like a feisty kitten showing its claws, he pulled you out of the carriage and dropped you onto the chilly, muddy ground. As he turned back to the carriage to retrieve the princess, he realized she was no warrior; she had fainted at the sight of his imposing figure silhouetted against the moonlight.
As he carries your mistress to his horse, you launch at his back, kicking and screaming, trying to make him let her go. He unceremoniously deposits her on the horse like a sack of potatoes. Finally, he turns back to catch your hands, which have been beating at his back, with one of his much bigger hands. Your eyes go wide with terror as the reality of your position with this beast sinks in. He can't help but relish in the look of you now, wet hair sticking to your face, wild eyes, and scratches on your cheek from the broken glass. You look like a tasty meal for his beastly appetite and he's been starving for far too long. You are unaware of it but attracting his attention will be the worst mistake of your life. As he draws you closer with your bound wrists, he whispers into your ear so that you can hear him over the pouring rain, “Yer brave but stupid, girl.” After that, he hits the back of your neck and everything goes black.
The next thing you know, you are standing in front of the king who explains the entire situation. However, somehow that doesn't help the sinking feeling in your stomach, especially when the king mentions a reward for the behemoth of a man towering over you. He is still covered in blood, and daylight doesn't make him any less terrifying. He stalks around like a nightmare in black leathers that hug his form tight and emphasize his width. As if sensing your thoughts, he takes a step closer, taking up more of your space, and before you can move away, you catch the last words uttered by the king: “You brought me, my bride, Ghost, it's only fair you get a reward. Take your pick - anything you wish for will be yours.”
A weighty, gloved paw settles on the nape of your neck, causing you to startle. "I'll take 'er." Your mistress immediately starts to protest but despite her objections, the king simply nods and smiles, disregarding you entirely. You have no option but to allow the beast, that he called Ghost, to guide you away with a firm hand on your nape.
After navigating through several twists and turns, you find yourself in an unremarkable room. It contains only the absolute necessities—a bed and very little else. The one thing that draws your attention in the room is the sizeable tub that is still emitting steam, indicating it was just filled a few minutes ago.
Silently, Ghost pushes you towards the tub, and you promptly begin to retreat away from it. You refuse to bathe in his presence. Even though you are just a servant, you are still a virtuous lady.
“Either you go voluntarily or I'll throw you in kickin' and screamin'.” He growls and then says, "I'll relish it either way." You can sense the predatory undertone in his voice. You're fighting a losing battle, as going willingly gives him complete control, yet resisting might provoke an even more... primal response.
You break free from his hold, realizing that he let you go willingly. 
"Can you... turn around?" he scoffs, moving to a chair that creaks under his weight. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he gestures for you to proceed. Though you want to scream or lash out, you hold back, sensing that he's waiting for you to lose control. Instead, you turn around and slowly peel off your muddied and torn dress. As you reach the chemise underneath, you sneak a peek and notice he has removed his helmet and face plate, revealing short dirty blond hair, black coal marks around his eyes, and prominent scars cutting through his lips and brow. Despite his broken nose, he remains strangely alluring, which frightens you. Hastily, you turn back, slide the chemise down, and attempt to hide under the steaming water.
"Good girl," he growls, satisfied with your obedience. Just as the relief that maybe this is all he wanted starts to sink into your bones, it's replaced with dread when you notice he starts shedding his clothes too. He loosens up his dark, blood-stained leathers with ease and deftness you wouldn't expect from a man his size.
"What are you doing?" Panic is evident in your question, but it doesn't seem to bother him at all.
"Can't bathe with my clothes on," he answers matter-of-factly. Once again, a wave of indignation courses through you, but it's quickly overshadowed by a pang of heat that forces you to rub your thighs together underwater. Your eyes can't help but stay glued to him, just as he did to you when you were taking your dress off. He is now down to his breeches, and when he pulls them down his thick thighs, you audibly gasp when you notice he is not wearing anything underneath. This earns you an amused chuckle, especially when he catches you looking again through your fingers.
Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, but before your thoughts can drift to what lies between his powerful thighs, he steps into the tub with you. Water spills over the edges, though he doesn't seem to mind. He pulls you close, turning you so your back presses against him, your body nestled between his legs, leaning on his firm chest. The light tickle of his hair brushes against your skin, and his strong arm rests across your stomach, fingers splayed making you feel even smaller. The contact makes you squirm, but as you try to pull away, you only stir the hardening length behind you, making you flush with heat.
“Relax,” he grunts into your ear, more command than a suggestion.
“How can I possibly –ah.” Your reply gets cut off by a moan as his other hand falls from the edge of the tub and wanders between your legs. Your attempts at closing your legs seem futile even with one hand he is strong enough to force his way in and drag his fingers through your folds nearing the opening. Your spine arches instinctively and he answers with a nip to your neck and jaw, while forcing a finger up to the first knuckle in. 
“Gotta loosen you up a bit, pet.” You have no choice but to surrender to his touch as he sinks his finger in and curls it, drawing a moan out of you before you clap a hand over your mouth to keep the sounds in. But all that decorum is forgotten when he adds a second one and scissors them before slowly prodding you with the third making you see stars. The tension building in your body suddenly snaps, sending you reeling, legs going numb and your fingers digging into his arm still wrapped around your stomach. 
With your mind hazy from your first-ever orgasm, you don't even register that he pulls you out of the bath, drying you, and carrying you to the bed in the center of the spacious room. Your body already half asleep.
His gravelly voice pulls you out of your post-orgasmic haze. “Naive, little thing.” Suddenly he is trailing hungry, open-mouthed, and nippy kisses down the length of your body. Marking your neck and collarbones with angry red marks, biting down harder than necessary on the underside of your breast leaving behind imprints of his teeth, and making you hiss when the pain mixes with the pleasure, he licks a trail down your stomach and in a moment of clear-headedness you try to fist his hair and tug him up and away from your center but his hair is cut too short for any leverage. When you lock eyes with him, between your legs forcing them open with hunger and lust written all over his face you try to get away just for him to deliver a loud smack to your outer thigh before dragging you closer and licking a stripe through your folds with a loud guttural groan that you feel more than you hear it.
His thumb circles your clit while he alternates kissing, sucking, and fucking you with his tongue. When your squirming in an attempt to get away turns into grinding your hips against his face, his other hand rests on your stomach adding slight pressure and making you cry out which only spurs him on. The sounds that reverberated through his chest were nothing short of animalistic and when your second orgasm shot through your core, you fell limp against the sheets with a moan that would make you blush if at least half of your brain was still functioning properly. A new wave of panic sets in when you realize that he isn't stopping. On the contrary, he probes you with his fingers in addition to his tongue. You can feel the coil in your lower belly tightening again, heating up with his ministrations.
You plead with him, saying you can't take anymore just for him to disregard it with a growl, “You've got plenty more in ya.” 
You've lost count of how many times you came when he manhandled you around onto your hands and knees propping your hips up with a pillow. You turn to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him standing behind you with his massive hand tugging at his thick, angry-looking, and leaking cock with his eyes glued to your core, still pulsing and wet from all your previous orgasms. Without warning he grabs your hips, aligns the blunt head of his cock with your entrance, and pushes in. Your fingers dig into the sheets from the sheer stretch as you mewl and whimper when he drags himself all the way to slam back in. Everything is too much and not enough at the same time, with every thrust his fingers dig into your hips and you are sure there will be fingerprints left with how hard he is gripping you and the idea makes you wetter. Prompted by the delicious drag of his cock your walls keep tightening around him, as he pushes you closer and closer to your release. One of his muscular arms circles your waist, his chest flush to your back, as his other arm comes to rest next to your head with one of his legs still firmly planted on the floor and the other resting next to you on the bed for better purchase. This new angle combined with the gravelly grunts so close to your ear become your undoing and you hurtle full-force into another mind-numbing orgasm with Ghost following close behind.
“Come f'r me, pet.” Again, not a suggestion but a command and who are you to refuse him? So you do as he says, pussy fluttering from the aftershocks as he fucks you through it, thumb circling your clit before he fills you up, not allowing you to move an inch, keeping your hips propped up and when he pulls out which drags another set of whimpers from you he meticulously pushes his spend back with thick, calloused fingers. “Gotta make sure it takes.” 
If your consciousness weren't slipping away, you'd likely be alarmed, but instead, your eyes begin to close again, and this time, sleep claims you.
You wake to a heavy weight pressing down on your back, and it takes a moment for your mind to catch up with the events of yesterday. When it does, your entire body flushes and you attempt to move out of bed, only to find it futile. You're pinned beneath strong arms marked with scars—some from arrows, large and small, and others older, circular, and still appearing raw.
Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted as a thick, muscular thigh presses deeper between your legs, forcing them apart. Without much thought, you begin to grind against it, a primal urge stirring within you. Despite the lingering soreness from yesterday, a fresh wave of need starts to build, and any trace of resistance fades in the face of overwhelming pleasure. It feels shameful, but you can't stop the tentative movements, slowly finding a rhythm—until the sudden flex of his thigh makes you gasp, your eyes rolling back.
“So needy,” he growls close to your ear but there's no trace of anger in his voice, if anything he sounds pleased. “Come on, ride it harder.” He punctuates the sentence with yet another flex of his thigh and a nip to your neck, making you shudder but follow through with his command. As you grind back against his thigh you take a note of his cock stirring, resting heavy and hard between your bare ass. You push against it absentmindedly and find yourself pinned under him, your legs still held apart with his thigh that's now embarrassingly slick with your arousal. The visual of it makes you turn your head away, eyes closed and whimpering. Ghost doesn't like that. His massive paw of a hand grabs at your cheeks, your lips puckering involuntarily while he grunts at you to keep those eyes open for him. As he licks into your mouth, it suddenly dawns on you—this is your first kiss. You had already let this beast inside you before even sharing a kiss, and everything felt so out of order, that it made you want to scream and cry. Instead, you settle on throwing your hands around him and clawing at his back as he aligns himself with your needy, sore pussy and thrusts to the hilt without so much as a warning.
Even after yesterday, the burn of the stretch to accommodate his length makes fresh tears spring up into your eyes and roll down the apples of your cheeks. You swear you see his scarred lips twitch up into a savage smile at the sight of them before he licks them clean off your cheeks with a satisfied groan. In retaliation you dig your nails deeper into his sturdy back, hoping to break the skin and leave a mark that only ends up urging him to fuck you harder, faster. The sounds reverberating in the room drive you crazy; over them, you don't even notice a soft knock at the door but whoever it was scurries away registering the sound of the moans he wrings out of you with one particularly hard thrust that pushes so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Effortlessly he manhandles your legs on his shoulders to hit a different angle. As you struggle with the overwhelming feeling of fullness he leaves a deceptively soft kiss on your ankle before he folds you in half again and wrestles another mind-shattering orgasm out of you and succumbing to one himself, painting your insides with his spent. Pulling out, he doesn't bother moving, he simply rests his head on your chest between your breasts, squeezing the air out of your lungs with the sheer size of him. “Rest now, pet. Plenty of time for more o' that later.”
At that moment, you know there is no turning back; you've been taken, branded from the inside out. You wonder if this is truly so horrible, perhaps this nightmare of a man will drive away all the other nightmares plaguing your mind.
Or perhaps he is even more dreadful than your imagination could have ever conjured.
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perlelune · 1 year ago
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no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | iii.
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Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.
Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
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After a few weeks, you’re forced to acknowledge you were wrong about Coriolanus.
His mere presence assuages your hurt, and none of his actions bear a hint of impropriety.
He’s simply being a friend, comforting you and supporting you in a time of need.
His visits grow more frequent. 
You’re amazed he even finds time between the University and his apprenticeship with Dr. Gaul. Still, Coryo never misses tea time with you, sometimes even bringing books and sweets. You’re thankful for the time he spends doting on you, even if you hate keeping him from his studies. You know how eager to succeed he’s always been. 
But you can’t deny you missed the feeling of having a brother, of having this person who cares for you, looks out for you and protects you unconditionally. 
And while you’re aware Coriolanus isn’t your actual brother, having him besides you helps alleviate the weight of grief and loneliness. Being with him makes you feel closer to Janus. You’re also solaced by the knowledge it’s what your departed brother would have wanted.
There is one person however who isn’t too keen on the rekindled bond between you and Coriolanus Snow.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him,” William notes, tracing the lines in your palm.
You’re both lying on the couch in the sunroom, your back against William’s chest, fingers interlaced with his. Sunlight spills from the stained glass in the ceiling, painting your fiancé’s brown curls in bronze hues. 
This is a moment of tranquility you’ve longed for, a sliver of calm amidst the storm and chaos wedding planning has turned out to be. You reckoned it’d be easier than it has been. Instead, it seems nothing ever goes right. Between incidents with the cake, your wedding dress somehow being lost by the store, and the venue perpetually being booked…you’ve grown disheartened and exhausted by the entire process.
It’s almost like some higher force is trying to prevent you marrying William. It’s ludicrous, of course. But the ceaseless string of bad luck is beginning to drain your hope that your wedding will happen before the year ends. 
You and William even had to push back the date. There was no choice as hurdles kept emerging.
So you bask in your fiancé’s presence, soaking his warmth and familiar smell, reminding yourself why you’re going through so much trouble. Marrying William is worth it.
“Yeah. He’s my friend,” you state casually. 
“Your friend. Baby…” There’s a brief pause during which William appears deep in thought. When he speaks again, it’s with a softer tone. “At the risk of sounding jealous, the way he’s looking at you…are you sure that he knows that?”
His words make you sit up straight. 
“William,” you admonish, taken aback by his preposterous insinuation. 
Coriolanus’ a gentleman. He hasn’t made any moves towards you and he wouldn’t. Sejanus trusted him and you trust him too.
Scratching the back of his neck, he sighs.
“I’m just saying. We’re getting married soon, and everything’s been so…tumultuous. I just want to make sure that you won’t…”
You search his forest gaze. Shock fills you at the doubts you find lurking there.
“That I won’t what?” You give a light punch to his chest. “Get cold feet? William, are you mad?”
His shoulders slump. “I know your parents wish I was from a great house like him.”
William looks away and you put your hands on his face, drawing his focus back to you.
“It doesn’t matter what my parents think. I love you.”
He smiles, that beautiful sunny smile that blows a warm breeze through your chest every time.
He grabs your hands and kisses them.
“I love you too, sweet girl.”
“William, you’re good and kind and caring. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” You hold his eyes. “He’s just a friend, I promise you. You…You’re my future.”
William studies you, love and devotion illuminating his features. His lips then collide with yours. He nudges you down on the plush beige upholstery, humming low in his throat.
When his hands find their way below your skirt, you push against his chest.
He immediately stops.
Your hot, rapid exhales mingle as you steady your breath. 
“You know I’d rather we wait for our wedding night,” you mutter apologetically. It’s not the first time things got hot and heavy between you and William and you slowed them down. You know how frustrating it has to be for him and you commend his patience. “ I know it’s old-fashioned but I…”
He quiets you with a tender kiss on the forehead.
“No, it’s okay,” he says, holding hands with you. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I got carried away.” Pink dusts his cheeks as he adds, “You just smell so good and you’re so beautiful.”
A smile breaks across your face. “You’re not too bad yourself, pretty boy.”
He tilts his head and laughs. 
“How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when you talk to me like that?” He bites his lip, his lids dipping to half-mast. “Can I at least get another kiss?” he whispers suavely.
“Hm, we’ll see about that…” you mumble, closing your own eyes.
“Apologies, hope I’m not  interrupting anything?”
Coriolanus’ sharp inflection shatters the spell, making you leap away from William.
Heat nestles in your cheeks as you rise to your feet, hastily smoothing the wrinkles in your dress. Your fiancé clears his throat and runs a hand through his tousled locks.
“No, we’re…William was leaving,” you stammer, struggling to meet Coriolanus’ stark blue gaze.
William’s brows squeeze together at that. But you shoot him a glare that pulls a deep sigh from him. He nods and pulls you to him one more time. 
He kisses you but you note it lasts much longer than usual, his fingers curling around your waist possessively.
Embarrassment flares inside you that this is happening right in front of your friend.
When he releases you, you’re breathless.
“Coriolanus,” William greets stiffly as he brushes past the blond.
“William,”Coriolanus replies, his tone somehow icier.
Once your fiancé has left, a weary exhale floats from your mouth.
“I don’t understand why you two can’t just get along. You both matter to me.”
Coriolanus smirks. “Oh, princess. You wouldn’t understand.”
“What wouldn’t I understand?” you inquire, blinking up at him curiously.
His tight-lipped smile expands as he gauges you. 
“Nothing.”
You scrunch your nose, displeased by his answer. He’s always so cryptic. A chuckle peels from his lips at your sour expression. His knuckles sweep over your cheek.
“There should never be a frown on such a pretty face.” He digs inside his satchel before retrieving a slim, leather-bound book. He places it in your hands as you gape at him, puzzled.
“Here, I brought you this. This will cheer you up.”
You examine the book. Surprise mingles with elation when you notice the words on the cover. The engraved letters spell out a familiar title. It’s one of your favorite books from when you were younger. It bewilders you that he even remembers. As if no time has passed.
“Oh my god! How did you…” An excited squeal leaves you. Then your voice lulls to a whisper. “It’s a first edition, Coryo.”
“It was printed and bound before the war,” he explains. “It wasn’t easy to dig up.”
Your brows rise. “An antique. You shouldn’t have.” You cradle the book against your chest. “You’re too good to me.”
His mouth quirks lopsidedly.
“Anything for you, princess.”
You both sit down for tea, cakes and macaroons. Time flies as you chat about everything and nothing with your friend. As always, you do most of the talking as he dutifully listens, only interjecting to ask you to elaborate on a particular point. 
No matter what you jabber on about, his interest never appears to wane.
You eventually land on the matter of your wedding planning. You share all the troubles you and William have had and Coriolanus hums in response.
“I’m very sorry to hear that.” He sips from his cup of Earl Grey. “How…unfortunate.” 
He then pauses, seeming to ponder something. “I have a proposition.”
Your brow arches in question.
“Clemmie is throwing a party tonight. Let me take you, get your mind off of all this.”
Your lips part. Clemensia? A party? None of it sounds enticing to you.
“I’m not sure…” you trail off, your eyes finding the floor.
“What better way to cheer you up than a party, princess?” Coriolanus’ voice mellows as he adds, “You can’t stay cooped up here forever.”
Words falter on your tongue as your eyes swell with unshed tears.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, concern oozing from his gentle tone.
You shake your head.
“You’re crying,” he insists, reaching over the table to lift your chin.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he says sternly. “Talk to me.”
His unwavering  inflection nudges you to admit, “I’m just scared.”
“What are you scared of, princess?”
You suck in a shaky breath.
“Every part of this house, every nook and cranny carries a memory I have with Janus.” You glance about the sunroom. Here alone you can count so many hiding spots from games you and your brother played when you were kids. “It’s easy, keeping him close here. It’s just that…”
“You’re scared to move on,” Coriolanus finishes for you. His thumb glides over your cheek, collecting a tear you didn’t realize had spilled over. “But you have to.”
“Sejanus wouldn’t want you to wilt away in this house like one of your roses.”
You mull over his words. You suppose he’s right but you’re still not convinced. Parties like the kind Clemensia is fond of hosting aren’t exactly your scene. 
A lame excuse flows from your lips.
“I don’t even know what to wear.”
“Then I’ll choose for you,” he replies without hesitation.
“What?”
“Let’s go to your room.”
Before you can protest, he seizes your hand and drags you upstairs.
“Wait, Coryo…”
He ignores you, making his way to your room with brisk strides you can barely maintain pace with. Once he’s there, he rummages through your closet. You let him do it, half-skeptical, half-jaded. Most of these garments weren’t picked by you anyway, but by your mother based on whatever fashion trend raged in the Capitol at the time. And those trends change every other season. You since long gave up on trying to keep abreast of them.
“Hm, this one is perfect,” he announces, drawing a red number from the closet.
You gape at the dress he chose. It’s a slip satin dress the color of blood. The waist is cinched with a thin belt and the lace sleeves, adorned with embroidered flowers, flow elegantly.
It’s beautiful, radiating a timeless elegance…but the neckline is low, displaying more cleavage than you’re used to. 
Your cheeks warm. “Are you sure?”
“Just trust me. Try it.”
Your eyes bulge but you relent, something about his tone curbing your impulse to argue. “Okay,” you quaver.
Trying not to squirm beneath his intense stare, you grab the dress from him and slip behind the wooden divider screen.
Chewing on your lip, you peek above the folding screen.
“Maybe you could…get out while I change?” you suggest while fumbling with the lace strings of your day dress.
Coriolanus casually sits on your bed, his crimson coat pooling around him. He leans back and spreads his large hands over your bed sheets. A small smile dances along his pink lips.
“I won’t look, I promise. Don’t you trust me, princess?”
“I do but…”
“But what?” he challenges, cocking his head in question.
Stumped, you come up short of a decent answer. “Nothing,” you mumble.
You shed your clothes quickly to try on the red dress. The whole time, you can feel the weight of Coriolanus’ unnerving scrutiny on the other side of the wooden screen.
He gives you a sluggish onceover when you step out from behind the screen. Your skin prickles as you shake.
“Hm nice, twirl for me.”
His blue eyes sparkle when you do as he says. He gets to his feet. He slowly strolls towards you.
Once he’s in front of you, he also arranges a few wisps of your hair in a way that he likes.
“Gorgeous,” he lauds when he’s done. 
He tilts your chin up, his gaze corralling yours.
“See? All you have to do is to trust me, princess.” His deep voice dips to dulcet tones. “Just trust me and, I promise you, everything will work out exactly the way it’s supposed to.”
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“You came,” Coriolanus points out, that signature smirk of his adorning his lips.
“I promised I would,” you defend.
He snorts. “I’m glad. Saves me the trouble of having to drag you here myself, princess.”
Nervous laughter peals from your lips at his strange joke and the intent way his eyes rest on you. For a while, he doesn’t say anything, drinking in the sight of you in the crimson dress. The very same one he picked himself.
He then loops your arm around his, bending near your ear to whisper,
“Let's re-introduce you to everyone.”
You look around yourself, curious as you’ve never been to Clemensia’s house. The atmosphere is more intimate than you expected. The only source of dim light in the Dovecote’s sumptuous living room emanates from candelabras scattered all about, the wobbly candlelight casting twisting shadows over the damask walls. The crackle of the logs burning in the gigantic fireplace mingles with the soft piano tune filling the living room. 
“Coriolanus, did you bring a ghost to my party?” Clemensia jests when she sees you. Her expression then turns serious as she studies you. To your utter surprise, she wraps her arms around you and hugs you. You freeze, too stunned to return the gesture. The two of you were never close, the opposite in fact. It all stemmed from the way she and her friends ostracized you and your brother in school. Maybe it’s all water under the bridge now that you’re older. “Oh, you poor thing,” she laments. “I’m here for whatever you need, okay?”
You nod stiffly. “O-Okay.”
Coriolanus hardly conceals his amusement at the interaction, mirth swaying in his cobalt orbs. 
He and Clemensia keep introducing you to people. Some you recognize; some you don’t. 
It makes you realize how much you missed. 
After a while, faces blend into each other. You end up nodding and smiling to most of the small talk, your attention span dwindling by the minute.
Eventually, you decide to retreat to the bar to take a break. The barkeep nudges a drink your way and you thank him quietly. You swirl it in your hand, your thoughts drifting. Maybe this is what a return to normalcy must feel like. Slightly strange and overwhelming.
You gasp as Coriolanus appears at your side. “Are you alright, princess? Too much?”
Your startled reaction draws a chuckle from him.
A slow exhale drops from your chest. 
“A little,” you confess. “But…I’m glad you took me. A change of scenery is nice.”
It occurs to you that you haven’t had time to wallow in your sadness, too caught in conversation with other people. However frivolous the topics, it did keep your mind off of things. No thoughts of dead brothers have crossed your mind tonight.
It might not be much but it’s a start, you suppose.
Coriolanus’ brow curves teasingly. “See? This is why you should trust me.”
“Don’t push it, Snow. You’re on thin ice.”
A laugh bursts from his chest but, as he peers down at your drink, all humor vanishes from his face. He swipes it from you and sniffs it. 
“Hm, what’s wrong?”
A frown puckers his forehead. 
“Who served you this drink?” he rumbles.
You shrug. “I don’t know. It was just…brought to me.”
“There’s something in it.”
“What?” Ice spills in your veins. “Oh my god.”
Your mind whirls as you peek at your surroundings, paranoia creeping in. You wonder who could have done this and why. Just to mess with you? Or maybe even worse…
Your gut sinks. Thank god Coryo put a stop to whatever awful thing could have happened to you.
He puts his hand on your arm reassuringly. “I’ll bring you a clean one.”
“T-Thanks,” you stutter. “Just nothing with alcohol in it, please.”
“Of course.”
He returns with a brand new drink in a jiffy. 
“Thanks for looking out for me,” you beam before taking a sip. You were starting to get a little parched.
“Always, princess.” He grins at you while you take another sip.
A wave of queasiness suddenly hits you. 
The room starts to spin around you, blurring into crooked shapes and colors. You try to stand but your knees buckle instantly.
If it weren’t for Coriolanus swiftly catching you you’d be a heap on the floor.
“Coryo…I’m not feeling so good,” you slur, struggling to speak. Cotton seems to fill your mouth, the mere act of forming words demanding great effort.
“It’s okay, lean on me,” he says, slipping his arm around your waist.
“Head…heavy.”
“You’re alright. Just hold on to me, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good girl.”
In a daze, you stagger along as he escorts you through a series of hallways and up a flight of stairs. You grow so weak that you slump against him. With ease, Coriolanus hoists you in his arms, carrying you bridal style the rest of the way.
You fall onto something heavenly soft that sinks under your weight. Like fluffy clouds. 
Your thoughts collapse, muddy and haphazard as you blink up at the ceiling. An antique chandelier hangs from it.
“You just need a little bit of rest.”
Coriolanus’s voice is warped, disembodied almost.
“Rest…” you echo.
But as soon as your eyes begin to close, the feeling of your dress hiking upwards tugs you back to consciousness. 
Befuddled, you look down. You’re welcomed by the sight of Coriolanus wedged between your parted legs, hands clasped around your thighs. His waistcoat and white blouse are gone, exposing his pale, broad chest. 
“Coryo, what is happening-”
His soft lips cover yours, stifling your protests. His tall frame pins yours to the bed. He purrs against your lips, framing your jaw when you feebly pivot your head to the side. 
When his lips free yours, your mouth still tingles with the forcefulness of his bruising kiss. 
He returns to the space between your thighs. 
You lie back, your bones like jelly, as you feel the delicate material of your panties sliding down your legs. 
Your brows twitch. “Coryo…”
His blue eyes glow strangely in the darkness. A chill slithers through your core. 
“Shh, don’t worry about it, princess, just sleep.”
You want to move. You feel you have to. But you can’t. 
“I…”
The syllable dies in a sharp gasp as Coriolanus’ cool tongue drags down your slit. Long fingers spreading you open, he traces wet circles around your bundle of nerves. He rasps against your center and the vibrations rock through your core. Your breath hitches. Your chest tightens. Heat builds in your stomach as he makes you dangle off the cliff of pleasure. He soon adds a finger and you cry out.
Coriolanus pumps in and out of you, gauging your expression as he grazes a particular spot that has your toes flexing. You writhe over the sheets, eyes blindly rising to the ceiling. 
You clench around his finger, your cunt clinging to him reflexively.
He sinks a second digit inside you and you whine, back arching at the abrupt stretch.
Short, chaotic breaths rush through your lungs as he works you open. His slow, meticulous drags have your chest rising and falling rapidly. 
Your legs quake as the coils in your belly grow unbearably tight and hot.
He stops as you’re on the cusp of your undoing. Your boneless frame sags onto the sheets.
He leans back and you hear the rustle of his pants coming undone. You get a faint sense of wrong trying to pierce through the haziness, but you can’t grasp at it.
Still, your fingers stretch towards the edge of the bed, your body rolling to the side. The meek attempt is interrupted as Coriolanus yanks you back onto the sheets, snatching your wrists and pinning them above your head. His frame drapes over yours. The scent of roses coats your senses.
“We’re not done, princess,” he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your face.
A painful pressure starts prodding your entrance. He grunts, hovering above you as he pushes past your tight ring of muscles. 
You feel as if you’ll tear as more of him buries inside you. Every second is agony, your core burning at the blunt intrusion.
A sigh of pleasure floats from his mouth when he reaches the hilt of you. He stays there a while, seeming to bask in the feeling of you around him. 
When he starts to move, your eyes flutter open. He sets a steady pace right away, thrusting inside you as if his life depended on it. Wordless screams rip from your throat. He releases your wrists, his long fingers latching onto your waist instead. 
Each of his slow, deep thrusts sparks warm tingles through your body.
Sweat collects between his brows as he grunts in pleasure.
“I knew you’d feel just perfect around me,” he rasps, delighted. 
His cadence quickens, his hand digging bruising grooves over your hip. Choked moans spill from your throat. His other hand crawls beneath the thin satin of your dress, fondling your breast and flicking your pebbled nipple. His hands feel everywhere at once and that sense of wrong rolls over you again.
“Ever since I saw you in this dress, I’ve been dying to fuck you in it,” he confesses, lust bleeding in his fevered tone. 
The mattress squeaks as he relentlessly rams into you.
A uniquely sharp thrust has your slick walls tighten around him. His cock stirs, a throaty moan pouring from his chest.
The repeated friction against your soft spots has you seeing stars.
A feral glint bounces in his blue eyes as he admires your panting form, lost in the throes of pleasure. Strangled shouts escape you as another wave of pleasure crashes over your frame.
His pace slows, sloppier than before as his cock twitches between your walls. His eyes roll back as he sighs, tension draining from his muscular frame. Hot ropes spill inside you, overflowing until you feel the warmth dripping along your thighs.
Your mouth wobbles, silent tears streaming down your face.
Coriolanus cradles your face, kissing away each of your tears with tender brushes of his lips.
“Shh, don’t cry,’ he mumbles. “It’s okay, princess. I’ve got you.” His cock stiffens inside you once more. He lifts you and snaps his hips viciously into yours, drawing a broken whimper as he bottoms out. A lopsided smile blooms on his lips when he begins to move inside you. Helplessly, you lie back as he takes you again.
“I’ve got you, and I’m not letting you go.”
2K notes · View notes
transnats · 5 months ago
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Body To Flame - A. Anderson
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Kinks/Warnings: Rough sex, predator/prey dynamics, light bondage, strap-on sex/use, dacryphilia, light dumbification, degrading/humiliation, sub/dom dynamics (sub!reader, dom!abby), knife play, spit play, impact play, cum eating, throat fucking, voyeurism, strap referred to as ‘cock’, pet names, AFAB reader
🎙️ Sora Says: CHAT! I worked really hard on this (took multiple breaks from being distracted by Lucy Dacus) and I think it turned out kinda good! Please don’t kill me if this is super dark. 😭 I just think I’m into some weird shit and in turn, this appears out of the works! I wanted to release something with all the free time I had so this is it! Okay damn lemme stop rambling.. YIKES!!!
W/C: 1.7K
Running through the thick, luscious forest and taking in its greenery, you only had one goal in mind — outrun Abby before she gets you. Adrenaline pumps through your veins in a way it never had before. It was exciting on both ends; Abby giving you a head start while slowly creeping up on you, and you trying to escape her grasp.
Leaves crunch under your shoes as you run, your legs screaming in pain as you huff with effort. You take a second to catch your breath, leaning against a large willow tree while the forest continues making sounds around you. The hum of crickets, the chirps of some other animals and the faint flow of water combines and makes a beautiful sound — almost a perfect juxtaposition of the predicament you were in.
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The tranquility didn’t last long as you heard heavy footfall behind you. Every sense in your body screams for you to run. So your body moves on autopilot, bolting off in another direction. 
Abby gets a thrill from the chase, a slight hint of amusement appearing on her face as she breathes somewhat heavily. 
Though you’d been two steps ahead of the girl, she was faster. Her big arms wrap around you, bringing you in her clutch as you pretend to struggle.
“Quit fucking squirming. Don’t pretend you don’t want this.” Abby barks, holding you tightly. “Leave me alone!” You shout. “Oh but baby, you wouldn’t want that would you?” She retorted. You stay silent. “That’s what I thought.”
Abby then pushes you to your knees, before walking behind you. “Gotta ensure you don’t run from me now. I’d be really sad if you ran from me.” Her belt comes undone before she pulls it off.
With an agonizingly slow pace, she bounds your hands behind your back. She pulls the belt extra tight before walking back infront of you. The bulge in her cargo pants was definitely prominent and it made you salivate.
She takes notice of the expression on your face and she smirks slightly. A hand comes down to slightly caress your face. “I’m gonna fuck your throat and you’re gonna take it like a good girl. Got it?” She asks, somewhat sharp in tone.
You nod, of course, and she wastes no time to pull off her boxers and pants. Her fingers slowly intertwine with your hair, grabbing into a makeshift ponytail. Your mouth opens without her even having to tell you to do so.
She started off slow, listening to each sound as she slowly worked its length into your mouth. She groans as if she can feel it. She wishes she could. “Takin’ it so fucking good for me baby.” She mumbles under her breath between breaths and moans.
She becomes absolutely feral for it, seeing you on your knees like this, taking her cock so good. How could she not wanna do nasty shit to you?
“Gonna cum down your stupid fucking throat, yeah, ‘n you’re gonna fucking take it for me, baby.” Abby speeds up her pace, feeling some kind of euphoric feeling. Could she have just cum from this sight alone? Probably. Hell, she might even do that right now. 
The occasional bump on her clit from her strap was only moving her to go slightly faster. “Look like such a whore on your knees like this. Cryin’ for me and shit.” She spat, tossing her head back. Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes as the strap hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag slightly.
Abby looks down at you before she slightly smiles. “So pretty crying for me.” She seems to be getting a kick out of seeing you cry for her. And you were definitely certain of it when her breathing became faster and her moans got higher.
She was about to cum, and god was she close. With a few more harsh thrusts, she’d made a mess of herself. “Take my cum down that pretty throat.” She grumbles. Yet again, she tosses her head back as the aftershocks of her orgasm pass through her body.
But she was far from done. She stands you up, before leaning in to kiss you. It was hungry, it was needy, and it definitely made you moan and whine into her mouth. Her tongue intruded into your mouth, sliding against yours before she pulled away.
Opening your mouth with her thumb against your bottom lip, she instructed you to stick your tongue out. From there, she spits in your mouth.
“Go ahead and swallow it for me.” She says, harshly patting your cheek. You swallow it eagerly. You look her in the eyes all needy and she knows it. She knows you’re probably soaking wet right now.
“You need to be fucked don’t you baby?” She asks, cocking her head to one side. “Really bad, Abby.” You whine. A dark look twists itself onto her face. “Beg for it. Be nice and loud for me. And tell me exactly where you need me.”
It was embarrassing in a way to do this. She always made you do this. “Cmon, you know what I need. Just give it to me.” You say while looking up at her. “No, I don’t. You gotta tell me. Can’t read your mind.” Abby responds, chuckling at how needy you are. “So stupid and needy that you can’t even tell me what you need. How sad.” The faux sympathy was hard to ignore.
“Need you inside me. I wanna be filled up by you. I want your cock so bad, Abby. Please.” You whine yet again. “There she is. I knew you had it in you.” She coos.
Abby then proceeds to manhandle you, pushing you onto the ground with your ass in the air, and now she’s on her knees behind you. Your back forms a deep arch as she yanks your pants down.
The click of her switchblade could be heard behind you. It makes your heart race with anticipation. The cool steel of the blade makes contact with your exposed thigh. Slowly, she drags it up and up. It causes you to squirm. “Keep still. Don’t wanna have to make you bleed.” She instructed.
The blade finds itself under the fabric of your underwear. Abby drags the blade up until the fabric rips. The now torn fabric falls off your body, exposing your wet cunt.
“Look at her, she’s crying for me.” She teased, taking in the sight. She continued dragging her switchblade across your inner thighs until you were whining for her.
“Abby please. I dont wanna be teased anymore.” You say, almost crying from how bad you need it. Abby shushes you. “Lemme have my fun first.”
It feels like she’d been teasing you for what felt like hours before you finally heard shifting behind you. Abby spits on her hand before coating her strap in it. She drags her cock against your slit, listening to your desperate little whines.
When she notices you trying to push yourself down onto it, she harshly slaps your ass, making you whine loudly. “Nuh uh princess, wait till I give it to you.” She said while rubbing the spot she’d smacked. Now she makes you wait even longer before she pushes it into you. At first she doesn’t move.
She’s still as if she’d been calculating her next move. When you’d least expected it, she begins thrusting slow and deep. You moan loudly, your hands balling into fists, making crescents on the palms of your hands.
Her hands smooth over the globes of your ass before returning to your hips. “Faster please. I need it.” You say between moans. “Beg me properly.” She growls, keeping her pace steady.
“Please fuck me harder and faster, miss. I need it really badly. I wanna cum for you.” You whine out. “That’s a good girl.” Her thrusts pick up in speed, as you asked. She reached a hand around to vigorously rub your clit.
You’re whining and gasping, almost screaming her name while she continues fucking you. She’s hitting your g-spot and you feel like you’re in heaven.
A string of curses fall from your lips, ragged and broken, as she continues with her unrelenting pace. “Yeah? You needed it all hard like this. Anyone could just walk past and hear how fucking loud you are.” Abby says, grunting slightly. The idea was thrilling. Absolutely thrilling to the both of you. 
She gives your ass another smack. “Goddamn baby, you hear how wet this pussy is for me? And she’s sucking me in? This pussy was just made for me, wasn’t it?” She sounded absolutely feral for you. “Yes! It’s all yours— fuckfuckfuck, feels s’good!” You moan, your eyes rolling back slightly. “Damn right its all mine. You belong to me and nobody else.”
Wet squelching fills Abby’s ears, taking over her senses. She’s absolutely pussy drunk from you. She couldn’t get enough. She looks down at you, cursing softly. 
“Taking it so good for me. Making such a mess all over my cock baby.” She mumbles under her breath. She, at this point, wishes she could feel you. The way you were begging for her to cum inside of you encourages her movements.
Going faster, she watches you get dumber and dumber. Your moans are significantly louder and your babbling. “‘M so close Abby! Please don’t stop. Wanna cum for you.” You moan loudly, and she groans. Her pussy was soaking again. You’d made her this way.
“Gonna make you go stupid for me.” She promises. Your hands ball up tighter while your orgasm builds up in your stomach.
“I’m cumming! Don’t fucking stop!” You say, screaming almost. “Cum for me then, pretty girl.” Abby says softly. 
The orgasm washed through your body as you came all over her. Your legs shake slightly as she helps you ride through your orgasm. Your chest rises and falls as you moan.
She takes the belt off of your wrists before she pulls out, looking at the mess between your legs.
“What a messy bitch.” She says, then going in to clean you up with her tongue. You were still quite sensitive, everytime her tongue grazed over your clit you mewled out and squirmed. “Gotta clean you up baby, keep still for me.” She whispers. She laps at your cum, savoring the taste and letting out little moans. Once she’d had enough, the two of you take a second before getting up.
She was far from done with you, and you knew that you. That’s why she hauls ass back to her car while holding your hand. You look down at her back pocket, seeing your torn underwear. Your face heats up, but you pretend not to notice. Abby was already saying what she planned to do to you when you’d arrived back home. 
Taglist: @joliettes
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kingofbodyrolls · 6 months ago
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Friendcation (m) | myg | wedding special
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Yoongi has done everything in his power to make your wedding truly special, what he couldn’t plan for was the rain. But fret not, a bit of rain will not make your day less special when it’s surrounded by friends and family. And your wedding night? Well, being pushed down into the sheets by Yoongi is easily one of your favorite things.
→ Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) → Other characters: the whole gang + family 🥰 → AUs: roadtrip!au, non idol!au, established relationship, wedding!au, mechanic!Yoongi. → Genres: slice of life, humor/crack, smut and fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 12.2k → Warnings (general) + triggers: Yoongi is so sweet 😭 You’ll see what I mean when you read, but he’s also a horny man that just wants to make the wedding day and night the best for his love 😭 Also, there’s still the usual sexual jokes and banter than friendcation is known for— there’s a few inside jokes, but you really don’t have to have read the whole series to understand them! → Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, sexy lingerie, oral (male receiving), deep throating, multiple orgasms, sexual banter, pregnancy kink, spanking, pussy rubbing, nipple play and sucking, clit play, creampie, cockwarming, slow and hard sex, first a bit rough and dirty but then it turns slow and more passionate 🥹  → Author’s note: Remember when I did the winter special and I said that I would probably write more? Well, here I am with a new edition to Friendcation! This special is actually set before the ‘winter special’ 🤭 I do have two more specials planned for this lovely couple 🥳 I know that this is a special to a completed and established series, but I still do think that it kinda works as a one-shot still. So if you find this, not having read Friendcation before, I think you’d still be able to enjoy this, and if you end up liking it, you can always start reading the series (it’s filled with a lot of crack and sexual tension 🤭). And please don’t let the very sweet and romantic beginning fool you—this is very much still friendcation and the story will get filthy towards the end 👿 The taglist is technically closed, and I just went with the old original one— but if you want to be added to the taglist for the two other specials I’m gonna do, just let me know. And If you for some reason don’t wish to be tagged anymore, please let me know that too! → Author’s note, pt2: So… remember how I said I would post this on the 20th? SURPRISE! I’m in my feels because of the ot7 photo— so here’s an early gift for you all 💜 Also, I did not really proofread this, simple because I’m too much of a happy mess to do so, so I’m sorry for any mistakes and whatnot. → Read on AO3? [link] ✨
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This moment, bathed in magic, will weave itself into the very fabric of your memory, an indelible mark that time dare not erase until your very essence transcends this forsaken world.
But until that fateful day arrives, every precious moment enveloped in your boyfriend’s presence is a treasure to be savored—a sweet prelude to the boundless joy awaiting you when he finally becomes your husband!
At times, the surreal reality of marrying Yoongi, your once-friend-turned-best-friend-turned-soulmate, eludes comprehension, prompting you to pinch yourself just to affirm that this enchanting journey from friendship to love is indeed your reality.
A simple getaway—a friendcation with your best friends, and the simmering tension between you and Yoongi exploded like a tightly wound spring finally released, echoing the burst of a bubblegum bubble reaching its limit before bursting in a cascade of flavor and delight.
That’s precisely why you now find yourself immersed in the tranquil embrace of Seoul’s outskirts, enveloped by a forest alive with verdant splendor—a tapestry of towering trees crowned with emerald foliage, interwoven with lush grasses and bushes displaying an array of vibrant green hues, painting a picture of nature’s untouched magnificence.
Under Yoongi’s careful hands, string lights dance like fireflies, weaving around the sturdy trunks and graceful branches of the trees, forming a celestial canopy above. Amidst this enchanting glow, he has created a makeshift altar, a sanctuary for your love to bloom amidst the verdant embrace of nature.
Every detail meticulously arranged by Yoongi leaves you in awe, a tender reminder of his deep devotion—a gesture that fills you with a bittersweet mix of wonder and gratitude, as you realize anew the depth of his commitment to making your wedding day a cherished memory.
As the string lights cast their gentle glow, the forest transforms into a captivating fairytale image, each illuminated leaf and dancing shadow conspiring to steal your breath away. In this magical moment, Yoongi’s tender side shines through, igniting a newfound appreciation that fills your heart with a fluttering joy you never knew existed.
“Do you like it?” Yoongi’s voice, soft as a whisper, accompanies the gentle caress of his calloused fingers tracing circles on your skin. In that tender moment, as his touch soothes the frantic beat of your heart, you’re overcome by a puzzling mixture of nerves and anticipation—after all, it’s Yoongi, you don’t understand why you’d be nervous.
As he gestures towards the enchanting scene he’s meticulously crafted—the trees adorned with twinkling fairy lights, the stools arranged before the makeshift altar, even Holly parked to the side, adorned with ribbons and lights—Yoongi’s efforts overwhelm you with a wave of affection for the man who’s not just your partner but your future husband. Each thoughtful detail he’s woven into this momentous occasion stirs your heart, amplifying the love that binds you together.
With a tender smile gracing your lips, you lean in closer to Yoongi, your eyes reflecting the warmth of the fairy lights surrounding you. “I love it,” you muse softly, your voice a gentle melody in the tranquil forest. As you draw him nearer, your touch carrying the weight of affection, you add, “But I never knew this side of you—so soft, so tender. It’s like seeing you in a whole new light.”
He chuckles, that deep, resonant sound that melts your insides and sends your heart soaring, like a bird set free in the vast, open sky.
“You know I want our wedding to be perfect, or at least as close as we can get. Perfection might be an illusion, something that doesn’t truly exist, but damn, you’re the closest thing to it, babe. Anything for you.”
Your cheeks flush with warmth as you divert your gaze to the damp grass beneath your feet. “Thank you,” you whisper, your voice tinged with emotion. “I love it.”
Yoongi’s gaze sweeps over you, his eyes lingering with admiration. He gently runs a warm hand over your flushed cheeks. “I love your dress,” he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. “Everything about you is stunning. You’re absolutely gorgeous.”
You’re adorned in a simple yet elegant dress, the delicate lace you adore gracefully hugging your figure. To complete the look, a flower crown, woven from nature’s most exquisite leaves and blossoms, rests upon your head, making you feel like a woodland fairy in a fairytale.
You chuckle, warmth blossoming in your chest at his words. “Thank you, Yoon,” you reply, your voice soft and filled with affection. “You look incredibly handsome in your suit. I love you, and I can’t wait to marry you.”
“Speaking of marriage— you did tell our parents what time the wedding is, right?” you ask, your voice tinged with nervousness. You glance up at the sky, the sun hanging low, a golden reminder that the ceremony is imminent. Anxiety bubbles within you as you realize none of your friends or family have arrived yet.
“Did you give them the right location? What if they can’t find us out here in the forest?” you ask, your voice rising with mounting anxiety. The nervousness gets the best of you, your heart pounding with worry as the reality of the secluded setting sinks in.
“Relax, babe. They’ll be here soon. The officiator will arrive, and everything will be fine,” he reassures you, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. As always, his calm presence grounds you, steadying your racing heart with just a single touch, or even the reassuring depth of his gaze.
Instantly, his words soothe you, the nervousness ebbing away with each syllable. You smile back at him, then glance down at your gown. It’s a simple, white dress—though you had wished for a different color, given how many traditions you’re already breaking. This fact has upset both your parents, who have scolded you countless times for not having a traditional wedding. But you and Yoongi are determined to follow your own path, and this forest wedding is exactly what you want—a heartfelt ceremony in the very place where your love story began.
As the distant hum of engines grows louder, you turn to see your parents’ and Yoongi’s parents’ cars winding their way up the uneven forest road. A rush of excitement courses through you as the vehicles come to a stop, and one by one, your beloved family members step out into the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, their faces radiant with anticipation and love.
Your mother rushes over, enveloping you in a tight, loving hug that fills you with warmth and reassurance. Moments later, your father joins in, his embrace just as comforting. Then, Yoongi’s parents step forward, wrapping you in their arms, their affectionate gestures bridging the gap between families. In a seamless exchange, your parents switch, their hugs crossing boundaries and symbolizing the unity and love that binds you all together.
“Is it too late to have a traditional wedding?” Yoongi’s mother asks, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she bats her lashes, her voice carrying a playful tease that dances on the air like a feather.
“Eomma! We’ve discussed this before. We don’t want a traditional wedding,” Yoongi groans, his frustration palpable as he defends your choices once again. You can practically feel the weight of his exasperation, as if he’s on the verge of pulling out his hair in sheer frustration.
“Yes, yes. I know,” she says softly, her smile tinged with wistfulness as she gently nudges Yoongi’s shoulders. Despite her words, her eyes shimmer with fond memories and unspoken hopes, casting a warm glow that belies her timid demeanor.
“Shouldn’t you just be happy that I’m getting married at all?” Yoongi frowns, a hint of playful defiance in his expression, but his lips curve into a crooked smile that reveals the warmth of his affection, his gums peeking through like hidden treasures.
“Yes, you keep surprising me. Next, you’ll give me grandchildren, yes?” she asks, her voice laced with playful anticipation, her arms enveloping Yoongi in a tender embrace. With a loving smile, she presses a gentle kiss to his forehead.
“Eomma, no,” Yoongi groans in mock disgust, though a playful twinkle dances in his eyes at the attention his mother showers upon him. You catch the subtle excitement in his voice, a reflection of the shared dreams you both harbor for the future. And as you exchange knowing glances, anticipation tingles in the air, as you are looking forward to all the nasty and dirty stuff you and Yoongi will be doing under the moonlight tonight.
You might just make a baby, who knows?
As you stand beside Yoongi and his mother, your attention is abruptly drawn away by the distant hum of engines. You turn to see multiple cars pulling up, their tires crunching on the grass as they park beside your parents’ vehicle. With each arrival, the air fills with a sense of excitement and anticipation, signaling the imminent gathering of loved ones to celebrate your special day.
You scan the arriving guests, and your eyes light up with delight as you spot your friends and Yoongi’s heavily pregnant sister. Despite her advanced pregnancy, she radiates a vibrant glow, her anticipation palpable in the gentle curve of her belly. You can't help but feel a surge of excitement and warmth, knowing that she’s on the brink of welcoming new life into the world.
Your gaze sweeps over the arriving cars, and your attention is snagged by one unfamiliar vehicle, its sleek silhouette contrasting with the rustic charm of the forest surroundings. A spark of excitement ignites within you as you realize that this could be the arrival of the officiator, the final piece in the puzzle of your wedding ceremony.
Your friends spill out of their cars, their laughter and excited chatter filling the air as they rush towards you and Yoongi. In a whirlwind of embraces and enthusiastic greetings, they envelop you both in a cascade of warmth and affection, their love palpable in every heartfelt hug and joyful smile.
Jimin strides in solo tonight, a vision of confidence in his sleek suit. Namjoon arrives with his date—the one he couldn’t stop texting since your vacation months ago. She exudes grace and warmth, fitting seamlessly into the group. Seokjin’s arm is wrapped protectively around his girlfriend, her gentle smile glowing despite the weight of her pregnancy. Meanwhile, Jungkook and Taehyung arrive without dates, their playful banter and laughter hinting at the unbreakable bond between them, yet leaving you curious about their romantic adventures, or lack thereof.
Surrounded by the warmth of your friends and family, your heart swells with happiness, as if it might burst from the overwhelming tide of love washing over you. Amidst the joyful chatter and laughter, your gaze falls upon Yoongi, his eyes alight with a radiant smile that seems to stretch from ear to ear, his conversation with his sister and brother-in-law a testament to the deep bonds of family and the anticipation of this special day.
As the sun begins its descent, casting a golden glow across the forest, the air seems to hum with anticipation, the vibrant hues of the surroundings intensifying under the magical embrace of the golden hour. The fairy string lights, once subtle, now twinkle like stars amidst the verdant canopy, weaving an enchanting tapestry of light and shadow that dances with the gentle breeze, infusing the atmosphere with an ethereal charm.
The officiator locks eyes with Yoongi and gives him a subtle nod, and a surge of anticipation courses through you. Your heart flutters with excitement, mingled with a hint of nervousness, as you realize that the moment you’ve been waiting for is finally here. Giddy anticipation bubbles within you, causing your palms to grow clammy with nervous energy. You fumble with the delicate lace of your dress, trying to dry your sweaty hands, your fingers trembling with a mix of excitement and nerves.
Your friends and family settle into the chairs meticulously arranged by Yoongi, their laughter and chatter filling the air with warmth and anticipation. The chairs are nestled on the lush grass, forming a cozy circle in front of two majestic trees adorned with twinkling string lights that cast a soft, enchanting glow. As your loved ones take their seats amidst the magical ambiance, you feel a sense of unity and excitement building, like the anticipation before the opening act of a grand performance.
With a sense of solemnity, the officiator leads the way towards the towering trees, their branches adorned with twinkling lights that illuminate the gathering dusk. You and Yoongi follow closely behind, your fingers intertwined in a reassuring grip, each step echoing with the weight of anticipation and the promise of forever.
As the warm summer air envelops you, carrying the hum of insects and the symphony of nature’s song, you can’t help but feel a sense of serenity wash over you. This is your element, being embraced by the gentle caress of nature’s embrace, surrounded by the vibrant energy of the forest. With each breath, you and Yoongi are united in your love for the great outdoors, and in this moment, amidst the tranquil beauty of your wedding venue, you feel more connected than ever before.
The officiator begins to address you, your loved ones, and the assembled guests, his words weave a tapestry of emotions and imagery. He speaks of the intricate journey from friendship to love, likening it to the delicate bloom of a red tulip, its vibrant petals unfurling in a display of magnificent colors. His voice resonates with tales of enduring love, reminiscent of the fairytales of old, and despite your initial skepticism, you find yourself drawn into the beauty of his words. While your own love story with Yoongi may not fit the traditional fairytale mold, there’s a raw and genuine beauty in the imperfect, real-life moments you’ve shared together.
As the officiator speaks, your gaze naturally drifts to Yoongi, his hands clasped lightly in yours. You hold him with a tenderness that belies your fears, as if he’s fragile and delicate, but deep down, you know he’s as sturdy as the roots of the trees surrounding you, built to weather any storm. It’s evident in the strength of his embrace, the gentle yet firm touch of his fingers interlocked with yours, offering silent reassurance and unwavering support.
When your eyes meet his, you’re captivated by the intense love shining in his dark chocolate brown eyes, a depth of emotion you’ve never seen before. His smile radiates warmth, softening the lines of his face and illuminating his features with a tender glow. Dressed in a sharp suit with a crisp white shirt underneath, he exudes an effortless elegance that takes your breath away, his presence commanding attention and admiration.
As the officiator begins the ceremony, the world around you fades into a soft, low buzz, like the distant hum of bees in a summer garden. Despite the faint background noise, Yoongi’s voice cuts through clearly as he recites his vows, each word carrying the weight of his love, lifting you higher than the clouds. His words wrap around you like a warm embrace, grounding you in the depth of his devotion. When it’s your turn to speak, you watch the impact of your vows on Yoongi, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears, his trembling lip betraying the depth of his emotion. In that moment, the love he holds for you shines brighter than any star, illuminating his handsome face with an ethereal glow.
Yoongi says ‘I do’, and a surge of exhilaration floods through you, lifting your spirits as if you could soar high into the clouds. This moment, the culmination of your deepest desires and fondest dreams, fills you with a profound sense of joy and fulfillment. For so long, you harbored secret feelings for him, uncertain if your love would ever be reciprocated. But now, as you stand on the brink of forever, you’re overwhelmed by the realization that he loves you just as fiercely. In his ‘I do’ you find the reassurance that your hearts are perfectly aligned, destined to journey through life together as one.
Yoongi’s touch is tender as he clasps your hands in his, his eyes shimmering with an unspoken vow of love and devotion. With gentle precision, he slides a golden band adorned with small, glistening crystals onto your ring finger, each delicate touch imbued with the weight of a promise that spans eternity. As the cool metal meets your skin, a rush of warmth floods through you, a tangible reminder of the enduring bond you share and the beginning of a new chapter in your love story.
A smile spreads across your face, one of those ‘I’m stupidly in love’ grins that lights up your entire being. You’re acutely aware that your expression must look utterly comical to anyone watching, but in this moment, you couldn’t care less. All that matters is the overwhelming rush of joy and adoration that fills your heart, painting your world in vibrant hues of love and happiness.
As the officiator’s gaze falls upon you, a sense of gravity settles over the scene, and you realize it’s your turn to say I do. Locking eyes with Yoongi, you feel a subtle shift in the atmosphere, as if the very air around you becomes charged with anticipation. The once bright skies darken, heavy clouds obscuring the sun, and the forest is cloaked in the earthy scent of moss. Yet, you’re unfazed by the changing nature around you, your focus solely on the man before you. With unwavering determination, you speak the final words, ‘I do,’ and as if in response to your declaration, the heavens open, showering the world with rain—a fitting testament to the intensity of your love and the power of your union.
The rain pours down in torrents, soaking you to the bone, your once-flowing dress now clinging uncomfortably to your skin. Oblivious to the chaos around you, the cacophony of your friends and family’s screams as they scramble for cover, you lock eyes with Yoongi. His long black hair is plastered to his face by the relentless downpour, and yet, there’s an undeniable joy in his laughter that mirrors your own. With a shared glance, you burst into fits of laughter, the absurdity of the situation only strengthening the bond between you. As you slide the ring onto his finger, your laughter mingles with the rhythmic patter of raindrops, a symphony of love and laughter. In that moment, as the officiator pronounces you married and grants you permission to kiss, you share a tender embrace, sealing your vows amidst the exhilarating chaos of the downpour.
And kiss you do. With an urgency born of love and longing, Yoongi leans in, his soft lips meeting yours in a tender yet passionate embrace. Despite the rain drenching you both, you can’t help but chuckle into the kiss, the warmth of his touch melting away any discomfort. As he pulls you closer, his arms enveloping your drenched form, you feel a surge of electricity coursing through your veins, binding you together in an intoxicating dance of desire. For a moment, the world fades away, leaving only the sensation of his lips on yours, the beat of your hearts echoing in perfect harmony. In the background, amidst the cheers and applause of your friends and family.
The kiss feels like a spell woven between you, a moment of pure magic and transcendence. It takes you back to the day when Yoongi proposed, a memory etched in your heart like a cherished melody. You recall the day vividly: Yoongi toiling away in his garage, hands stained with motor oil, yet his eyes ablaze with a passion that mirrored the fire in your own heart. It was one of those late nights, the air thick with the scent of metal and oil, as you shared takeout amidst the hum of machinery. Unbeknownst to you, he beckoned you over to the car he was working on, his intentions shrouded in mystery until the moment he kissed you—deep and fervent, igniting a flame of desire within you that threatened to consume you both. For a fleeting moment, you thought he might rip your clothes off and take you atop the very car he was fixing, the thrill of anticipation quickening your pulse. Instead, he pulled back, his eyes shimmering with unspoken love, as he uttered those life-changing words. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was quintessentially Yoongi—unexpected, sincere, and overflowing with the depth of his affection. And in that moment, as you uttered the easiest ‘yes’ of your life, you knew that your love story was destined for greatness, forged in the quiet moments of intimacy and the simple beauty of everyday life.
The rain continues to pour down, drenching you both to the bone, yet Yoongi’s kiss remains unbroken, as if time itself has stretched out to accommodate this perfect moment. Each passing second feels like an eternity, your senses heightened by the coolness of the rain and the warmth of his lips. You can feel a deep, growing desire unfurl within you, igniting a fire that burns brighter with every tender caress.
“Hey hyung! You shouldn’t stick your tongue down her throat like that, it’s gross!” Jungkook’s playful shout pierces through your passionate moment, jolting you back to reality. You reluctantly open your eyes, laughter bubbling up despite the interruption, only to lock eyes with your mother. Her expression speaks volumes, a single displeased look delivering a silent scolding that makes your cheeks flush with embarrassment. The contrast between the fiery intimacy of Yoongi’s kiss and the sudden, humorous reality check from your friends and family fills you with a mix of emotions—embarrassment, amusement, and a deep, abiding love for the man holding you close.
Yoongi pulls away gently, his hands steadying you as he straightens you up. A chuckle escapes your lips, quickly blossoming into full laughter as you realize the intensity of your kiss might have been a bit too much for your audience. The amused glances and knowing smiles from your friends and family only add to the humor of the moment, making you feel both exhilarated and slightly sheepish. The love and joy of the occasion, however, remain undiminished, as you and Yoongi share a private smile, basking in the sheer delight of your unrestrained affection.
Despite the rain, your friends and family rush towards you, their faces alight with joy and excitement as they shower you and Yoongi with heartfelt congratulations. Your parents, though expressing their initial desire for a traditional wedding, admit with warm smiles that this ceremony was uniquely beautiful and special. The mingling continues for a while, laughter and chatter filling the air, but soon, the persistent downpour compels both your parents and Yoongi’s to consider heading home. 
You embrace your parents tightly, feeling the warmth of their love despite the rain. They are the first to depart, leaving behind words of encouragement and happiness. Next, you bid farewell to Yoongi’s parents. His mother, ever the tease, turns back with a mischievous smirk. “Have a lovely night. I expect grandchildren!” she calls out, her voice carrying a playful lilt. You laugh, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement, as her cheeky remark adds a final touch of joy to this unforgettable day.
And with that, they depart, their figures slowly disappearing into the misty depths of the forest. You and Yoongi are left behind, choking on your laughter, the echoes of their playful words lingering in the air. The sound of your mirth blends with the soft patter of rain and the rustling leaves, creating a symphony of joy that perfectly encapsulates the magical moment. As you watch them fade from view, a sense of serene happiness washes over you, knowing this enchanting night is just the beginning of your beautiful journey together.
Yoongi’s sister and her husband approach next, their smiles warm despite the rain. You exchange heartfelt hugs, feeling the comforting swell of family support. “Thank you so much for coming,” you say sincerely, your voice thick with emotion. They nod, their eyes shining with shared happiness, before bidding their farewells and disappearing into the misty evening. 
The officiator steps forward, his eyes twinkling with genuine pleasure. “This was an absolute joy for me to officiate,” he says warmly, shaking your hand with a firm, friendly grip. “I rarely get the chance to oversee non traditional weddings, so this was truly special for me as well.” His words carry a heartfelt sincerity that touches you deeply. With a final nod and a parting smile, he bids you farewell, leaving you with a sense of profound gratitude for the unique and beautiful ceremony he helped create.
With only your friends remaining, they close in around you, a joyful swarm of affection and excitement. Their laughter and exuberant chatter fill the air, wrapping you in a warm, comforting cocoon of love and support. You feel their genuine happiness radiating towards you, each hug and congratulatory word a testament to the deep bonds you share. The moment is electric, their energy infectious, making you feel incredibly blessed to have such wonderful friends by your side on this unforgettable day.
“Did you bring your camera?” Yoongi asks Taehyung, his voice filled with hopeful anticipation. Taehyung nods enthusiastically, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Of course! It’s in my car,” he replies, his eyes sparkling with excitement. 
“But do you really want pictures in this rain?” Taehyung asks, his brows furrowed in uncertainty, his concern evident in his tone. The rain continues to pour, casting a shimmering veil over the forest clearing. Despite his hesitation, there’s a glimmer of determination in Taehyung’s eyes. “My camera is weather-sealed,” he reassures, his voice tinged with resolve. “And I can always enlist Jungkook or Jimin to hold an umbrella over it, just to be safe.” 
His willingness to brave the elements for the sake of capturing your special day fills you with gratitude and admiration.
“Yeah, just some shots over by that tree over there,” Yoongi muses, his lips brushing softly against your cheek in a tender gesture that sends a shiver of delight down your spine. The gentle touch of his kiss elicits a soft giggle from you, the sound echoing amidst the gentle patter of raindrops. In that fleeting moment, amidst the tranquil beauty of the forest, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and contentment enveloping you, binding you ever closer to the man whose presence fills your heart with joy.
“Okay,” Taehyung says with a nonchalant shrug, his excitement palpable despite his casual demeanor. The fact that Yoongi had asked him beforehand fills him with a sense of pride, evident in the way he confidently reaches for his camera. You watch as Taehyung, fueled by anticipation, turns to Jungkook, a mischievous glint in his eye as he enlists his friend’s help. With a shared grin, Jungkook readily agrees, stepping forward to be Taehyung’s trusty assistant for this impromptu photoshoot. Together, they gather the necessary equipment—a camera and an umbrella—and set off towards the designated tree, their laughter mingling with the soft patter of rain.
You don’t want to capture too many photos, just a select few to encapsulate the ethereal beauty of this rain-soaked day. Hand in hand with Yoongi, you approach the towering tree, its branches adorned with twinkling string lights that cast a soft glow against the backdrop of the darkening sky. Taehyung guides you further away from the tree, his camera poised to capture the perfect shot. With expert precision, he explains the importance of separating you from the background to achieve a stunning bokeh effect in the photos. Following his instructions, you step a few meters away, the string lights creating a halo of warmth and intimacy around you both. As twilight descends, a magical transformation takes place. The gentle hum of nature fills the air, accompanied by the soft patter of raindrops and the distant chirping of crickets. Suddenly, tiny pinpricks of light begin to dance around you, their soft glow illuminating the darkness like miniature stars. You gasp in awe as you realize that the air is alive with fireflies, their luminous presence adding an enchanting touch to the already magical atmosphere. It’s a scene straight out of a fairytale, a fleeting moment of pure, unadulterated magic that you know will be etched in your memory forever.
Taehyung presses his finger on the camera’s shutter, immortalizing the tender moments unfolding before him. First, he captures you and Yoongi standing side by side, your expressions innocent and serene. Then, with a playful glint in his eye, Yoongi leans in and plants a soft kiss on your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. The scene shifts as Yoongi gently turns you to face him, the world around you fading into a blur. With a sudden, passionate intensity, he captures your lips with his in a fiery kiss, the heat of it igniting every nerve in your body. Taehyung’s camera clicks rapidly, capturing each electric moment as Yoongi’s embrace tightens, pulling you closer until there is no space left between you, just the shared breath and the undeniable love that burns brighter than the fairy lights around you.
Yoongi’s fingers glide to the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. His lips leave yours, tracing a fiery path down to your throat where he kisses and sucks, leaving a deep purple mark on your skin. A groan of delight escapes your lips, your senses consumed by his touch. The world around you fades into oblivion as Yoongi’s lips travel back up to your ear, his breath hot and tantalizing against your skin. He whispers sweet nothings, painting vivid images of all the things he wants to do with you tonight, each word stoking the fire of lust and making your pulse race with desire.
Jungkook clears his throat, breaking the spell of Yoongi’s intoxicating kiss. As you reluctantly pull away, your gaze lands on Jungkook, whose cheeks are flushed a deep crimson, reminiscent of that day he accidentally walked in on you and Yoongi in the garage. The memory flashes vividly in your mind—the startled look on Jungkook’s face, the awkward shuffle of his feet, and the embarrassed apology that followed.
“I’ll only take photos of you kissing,” Taehyung huffs, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he lowers his camera. “If you want more raunchy photos, you should hire a professional.” He places the camera carefully to the side, while Jungkook, his cheeks still faintly red, lifts the umbrella higher to shield Taehyung and the equipment from the rain. 
You and Yoongi both nod, a shared understanding passing between you. It’s so easy to get lost in each other’s embrace, to forget the world spinning around you. You offer a quick apology to Taehyung and Jungkook, but the sincerity is wrapped in the light-heartedness of the moment. Despite the raindrops falling around you, you all burst into laughter, the sound mingling with the patter of rain.
“But you are a professional photographer now, Tae,” you giggle, pulling Yoongi away from the tree. The rain continues to fall softly around you, creating a magical ambiance as you make your way over to the rest of your friends, who are still waiting for you with bright smiles and open arms. Yoongi squeezes your hand, and you feel a rush of warmth and happiness, knowing that this moment, surrounded by loved ones, is exactly how you imagined your special day.
“Yeah, but I don’t do that kind of photography. But I do know a guy who does amazing boudoir shoots,” he smiles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Your eyes light up at the mention, the wheels in your brain churning with ideas. You turn towards Yoongi, your husband, a playful grin spreading across your face as you imagine the possibilities.
“Would you prefer photos of me in my wedding dress or in my wedding lingerie?” you ask, your voice a soft, teasing whisper. You notice how his pupils dilate, his breath hitching slightly, which brings a lovely, satisfied smirk to your lips. The anticipation in his eyes makes your heart race.
Jungkook scoffs and rolls his eyes, quickening his pace to escape the conversation, his discomfort evident as he strides ahead, trying to distance himself from your playful banter.
“Wedding lingerie?” His voice comes out raspy, almost strangled, as if the very thought has taken his breath away.
“Yeah,” you confirm with a nod, a surge of excitement coursing through you, your heart beating faster with every step closer to your friends. You squeeze his hand in yours, feeling the warmth of his touch anchoring you in the moment, while the smiles of your friends awaiting you ahead fill you with a sense of joy and anticipation.
“Are you wearing it right now?” he asks, his gaze trailing over your body with a hunger that makes your skin tingle. It’s as if he could see through the layers of your wedding dress, his eyes sparking with curiosity and desire.
You chuckle, feeling a playful surge of excitement as you bounce in front of him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. With a coy smile, you purse your lips and quip, “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” Your words are laced with anticipation, leaving him intrigued and eager for what’s to come.
Taehyung’s chuckle ripples through the air behind you, rich with amusement, while Jungkook emits a soft sound of discomfort, his unease palpable in the subtle shift of his stance.
“You can give me that photographer's contact info later, right Tae?”
You hear Yoongi’s voice behind you, his tone tinged with curiosity and a hint of excitement. It makes you chuckle softly, surprised yet pleased by his interest in the idea. You hadn’t been sure if he would entertain the thought of such intimate photos of you. But as his words sink in, a warmth spreads through you, and you’re filled with a newfound eagerness. You’ve always been curious about boudoir photography, and the idea of exploring it with him fills you with anticipation.
You finally catch up with the rest of your friends, who immediately turn their attention to you and Yoongi, their faces lighting up with big, joyous smiles. The warmth and love radiating from them wrap around you like a comforting blanket, and you can feel the excitement and happiness in the air as they welcome you with open arms and congratulatory cheers.
“This wedding is a celebration of love in its purest form,” Namjoon begins, his gaze sweeping over the enchanting forest setting. The fairy lights twinkle in the dusk, casting a magical glow over the scene. You can see the admiration in his eyes, knowing he envisions a similar backdrop for his own wedding someday. With his deep love for nature, this setting, with its lush greenery and serene ambiance, is indeed the perfect venue.
“Thank you for inviting us,” he adds, a big smile spreading across his lips as he pulls his girlfriend into his embrace and plants a tender kiss on her forehead. Watching them, you can’t help but think how incredibly adorable they look together, their affection radiating a warmth that adds to the magic of the evening.
“Of course. We’re just so thrilled to have everyone here to celebrate this special day with us. You’re welcome to stay if you want—sleep under the stars like we did on vacation,” you quip, a big smile lighting up your face. Your eyes glisten with the fond memories of those three magical months, filled with laughter and unforgettable adventures with your friends.
Jungkook is the first to look away, clearing his throat but remaining silent. Jimin, however, turns to you with a playful smirk plastered on his face. “We didn’t bring any tents with us, sorry,” he teases, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
Seokjin chimes in with a knowing smile, “We need to sleep at home, closer to the hospital, you know, just in case we go into labor. Can’t risk it out here.” His hand gently rests on his partner’s belly, and you can see the mix of excitement and nervousness in his eyes.
His girlfriend shoots him a stern look, “I’m the one going into labor. Me. I’ll be doing all the pushing and stuff while you just sit and observe.” She scoffs slightly, her irritation clear as she places her fisted hands on her hips, her eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and determination.
“What? Do you think I’ll just sit and watch you give birth? No, no. I’ll hold your hand, your thigh, whatever you need, love,” Seokjin breathes, rushing over to reassure his pregnant girlfriend. The moment his hands rest on her stomach, you see her shoulders relax and a hint of a smile touches her lips. His touch seems to melt away her irritation, and the love between them is palpable, a beautiful testament to their bond.
You smile, savoring the moments when you observe your friends with their partners. It reminds you of how grand and sweet love can be, or how it can bring laughter with its quirks. Your heart swells with affection as you watch Seokjin and his girlfriend banter playfully. Their lighthearted exchange makes you chuckle, resonating deeply and reminding you of the delightful dynamic you share with Yoongi.
“We have some spare tents in Holly that you can use,” Yoongi quickly interjects, pulling you closer with a firm yet gentle grip on your hips. His touch sends a warm shiver through you, grounding you in the moment and making you feel cherished. You lean into his embrace, smiling as you think about how considerate he always is.
Taehyung swiftly stows his camera away in his car, sheltering it from the relentless downpour, before rejoining the group. He inserts himself into the conversation with a playful yet teasing tone. “Look, we just don’t want to hear you have sex again, thank you very much,” he quips, his expression a mix of amusement and mock exasperation.
You shoot a wide-eyed glance at the guys, their cheeks flushing with vivid hues of embarrassment, vividly recalling the escapades from your vacation days. Your own ears burn crimson with the memories flooding back, a mixture of nostalgia and amusement swirling within you.
“Yes, it’s probably for the best, yeah,” your words tumble out in a nervous chuckle, accompanied by a nod of agreement. The memory of past escapades tinges your cheeks with a hint of embarrassment. Deep down, you're relieved by their decision, grateful to avoid any repeat performances in front of your friends. Their words resonate, striking a chord of truth, and you find yourself conceding to their wisdom.
Jimin sidles up to you, enveloping you in a warm embrace, while your fingers remain intertwined with Yoongi’s. 
“It’s your wedding night. You should get to enjoy it unrestricted, you know what I mean?”
His voice is a hushed whisper against your ear, igniting a blush that creeps across your cheeks. Oh, you understand his meaning all too well. After all, he was the one who lent a hand in selecting your wedding lingerie. In that moment, you’re struck by a surge of gratitude for your loyal confidant — your ultimate ride or die. Next to Yoongi, of course; he holds a special place in your heart.
Jimin extricates himself from the embrace, and you catch the familiar glint of disapproval in Yoongi’s gaze. It’s a look he often wears, a silent protest against the closeness he perceives between you and Jimin. But there’s no cause for concern; Yoongi needn’t fear. Your affection for Jimin is pure and platonic, a bond woven with the threads of years of friendship and trust. Yet, you can’t help but wonder if Yoongi sees something you don’t, something lurking beneath the surface of your friendship.
Jimin then sidles over to Yoongi, enveloping him in a snug embrace, his lips moving in a hushed murmur that escapes your ears. Whatever secret message Jimin imparts seems to evoke a predictable response from Yoongi—a roll of the eyes accompanied by Jimin’s infectious laughter, a silent exchange that speaks volumes of their friendship.
“Time to head back,” Jimin announces, gently guiding your friends towards their awaiting cars. “We’ll leave the lovebirds to enjoy their first night as a married couple in peace.” His laughter ripples through the air, a contagious melody that makes you chuckle.
As they make their way to their cars, each of your friends pauses to envelop you in warm hugs and heartfelt congratulations, their genuine affection palpable in the air. With bittersweet smiles, you wave them off, watching their cars disappear into the distance.
You pivot toward Yoongi, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Now that we’ve got the whole forest to ourselves,” you say, a playful lilt in your voice, “what’s your pleasure?”
Yoongi’s smirk widens as he raises a suggestive eyebrow, raindrops still clinging to his skin and clothes. “What do you think I want to do?” he teases, his voice low and inviting. 
“Get in the van, babe,” he adds, his tone hinting at a world of thrilling possibilities.
Excitement and arousal surge through your body like an electric charge as you stride towards Holly, your hand eagerly grasping the handle as you step inside, ready for whatever adventures await with Yoongi by your side.
Yoongi follows you eagerly, the click of the door shutting behind him echoing the finality of the moment. With a soft sigh, you sink into the cozy embrace of the makeshift bed, the anticipation of the night ahead palpable in the air.
You lay down on the bed, smirking up at Yoongi as you lick your lips, trying to decipher the thoughts swirling in his mind. You wonder how he wants to take you, what he plans to do tonight. One thing is certain—you know exactly what you want to do to him.
Yoongi hovers over the bed, looking down at you with dark pools of lust in his eyes. Your gaze drops, catching sight of the bulge in his pants, and a soft, seductive chuckle escapes your lips.
“You’re already getting hard,” you breathe, your voice feather-light. The thought of having him in your hand, or even taking him deep into your mouth, sends a shiver of anticipation through you.
He grunts, “What did you expect? Now strip so I can see that lingerie, babe.” His voice is rough with desire, sending a thrill down your spine.
You laugh wholeheartedly, the sound echoing in the intimate space, because that is so Yoongi. You know the thought of your lingerie has probably been driving him wild since you hinted at wearing it.
With a teasing smile, you rise from the bed and stand tall before him, well, not taller, but still. Holding his gaze, you let your hands travel to your back, finding the zipper and pulling it down slowly. The sound fills the van, and you see Yoongi’s brow twitching, his anticipation evident. He's probably doing all he can to resist the urge to ravish you right then and there.
You let your wedding dress cascade off your frame, sliding down your hips and pooling around your feet. Yoongi’s expression is priceless; his adoration for you is unmistakable, his lust palpable in the way his lips curl into a smile and his eyes unabashedly roam over your body. You bask in his gaze, loving every second of it. Your hands find their way to your breasts, groping and pressing them together. “Do you like it?” you ask, mirroring his earlier question, batting your eyelashes at him with a feigned innocence that you both know is far from the truth.
For a moment, he doesn’t respond, just stands there, taking you in. His eyes roam over your white lingerie set, lingering on the lacy bra that’s sheer enough to reveal the darker hue of your nipples. Delicate strings extend from the cups, winding over your shoulders and around your waist, accentuating every curve. You’re wearing a white lace g-string to match, barely covering anything, and to complete the look, a suspender belt holds up a pair of white lacy stockings. His silence speaks volumes, the heat in his gaze making you feel more desired than ever.
You chuckle softly, the sound filling the silence as he remains speechless, mesmerized by the sight of you. The power you feel in this moment is intoxicating, knowing you have him utterly captivated. Your eyes sweep over him, taking in every detail, and you lick your lips slowly, savoring the anticipation. Your mind races with wicked ideas of how you can tease him further, heightening the delicious tension between you.
“There’s a wet patch on your pants, Yoon,” you purr, closing the distance between you. Leaning in, you whisper into his ear, your breath hot and tantalizing. Your right hand glides down to his crotch, cupping his dick through the fabric, feeling the heat and firmness beneath your touch.
“Speechless?” you tease, your voice a sultry whisper in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. His response is a low, guttural grunt, and you smile, knowing you have him right where you want him. With a subtle increase in pressure, your hand caresses his cock through his pants, relishing in the power you hold over him.
“Gonna suck your dick, Yoon,” you whisper seductively, your voice dripping with desire. “Gonna make you come down my throat. You can make me choke on your cock. Then you can fill up my pussy, maybe get me pregnant, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Each word is laced with a potent mix of passion and anticipation, igniting a fiery hunger between you both.
You feel a surge of empowerment, like a femme fatale in control of her prey—savoring every moment of rendering him speechless. Damn, you enjoy it way too much. It makes you soak your panties. The anticipation ignites a wildfire of desire within you, causing your senses to heighten. You can practically feel the electric tension crackling in the air as you drop down to your knees, a siren of seduction ready to unleash your desires upon him.
With a swift and practiced motion, your hands move with purpose, deftly unzipping his dress pants and pulling them down, along with his underwear, revealing the object of your desire in all its glory.
His dick springs free, a tantalizing sight that never fails to ignite desire within you. You revel in its presence, appreciating its length and girth, knowing how perfectly it fits you and the pleasure it promises. In this moment, with his dick before you, you feel a surge of ownership and longing, your heart racing with a potent blend of love and lust, knowing that it’s now exclusively yours to enjoy.
You take hold of him, your fingers wrapping around his dick, and you give him a slow, deliberate stroke, feeling him pulse in response to your touch. Then, with a teasing smile dancing on your lips, you lower your head and flick your tongue across the sensitive tip, savoring the way he shudders with raw desire at your touch.
Your gaze meets his, a facade of innocence masking the minx within, especially when it comes to him. You lock eyes, finding his already lost in ecstasy, as you trail your tongue along his cock, savoring the way his breath catches and he bites down on his lower lip, unable to contain his desire.
“I want to hear you, Yoon. And I want you to fuck my mouth. I’ll let you know if it’s too rough, okay?” You don't wait for a response; his stunned silence tells you all you need to know.
You take him fully in your mouth in one smooth motion, your hand gripping the base of his shaft firmly.
You take him deep, your mouth accommodating his full length as you breathe rhythmically through your nose, ready to embark on your task. Working your mouth back and forth along his shaft, you elicit low, primal sounds from him. His fingers thread through your hair, anchoring you as you establish a steady, deliberate rhythm.
You ensure to maintain eye contact with him, locking gazes as you work your magic. His intense stare reflects his captivation with you, every movement you make drawing him deeper into the moment. Swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip, you create a vacuum, engulfing him in a whirlwind of sensation. He tightens his grip on your hair, emitting a primal hiss of pleasure, lost in the ecstasy you provide.
You take him deeper, pushing past the boundaries of your comfort to savor every inch of him. As he brushes against the back of your throat, you battle your gag reflex, determined to accommodate him fully. Finally, your nose nestles into his soft curls, and the heady scent of him envelops you. A primal moan escapes your lips, unleashing a torrent of arousal that courses through your veins, igniting every nerve ending in a frenzy of desire.
You maintain a steady rhythm, your lips and tongue caressing him with a practiced finesse. Yet, as your jaw begins to protest and your throat yearns for respite, you glance up at him, silently begging him to take control. Your eyes implore him, a silent plea for release, while a gentle tap on his thigh conveys your need for a change in pace.
“Damn,” he finally speaks, his voice hoarse with desire. Running a hand through his tousled black locks, he gazes at you with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You look so perfect like this,” he continues, his fingers tenderly tracing the curve of your cheek. “With my cock in your mouth. Let me take over, babe.”
Relief washes over you as you relinquish control, allowing yourself a moment to simply savor the feeling of his dick between your lips, the weight of him against your tongue. It’s a welcome reprieve, a chance to lose yourself in the pure physicality of the moment.
With a firm grip on your hair, he sets a rhythm, each thrust pushing deeper into your eager mouth. Your jaw slackens, welcoming him eagerly as he moves with a primal urgency that ignites a fire within you. The intensity of his movements sends shivers down your spine— rough and fast.
Panting, he murmurs, “You in that lingerie set are really doing something to me,” his words punctuated by the force of his thrusts, each one harder and more desperate than the last.
Your eyes begin to water, but the overwhelming pleasure makes you love every second of it.
His breath comes in ragged pants as he locks eyes with you. “That suspender belt on your waist… you must be trying to kill me, because, fuck,” he groans. Sweat begins to form at his hairline, and the sight of his damp white shirt clinging to his skin makes him look utterly sinful.
“I want to fuck you wearing that so bad, babe,” he groans, his voice heavy with desire. You feel him twitch in your mouth and respond by suctioning your cheeks tighter around him, humming softly to intensify his pleasure.
It makes him shudder, and you can tell he’s close. Just a bit more, and you’ll have him spilling down your throat, you’re sure of it.
“Shit, I’m gonna come. I can’t hold back with you looking at me like that,” he groans, your name falling from his lips as he spills inside your mouth. Your hands grip his hips tighter, feeling him pulse as he thrusts a few more times, making sure you take every drop.
It tastes salty, just as always, but you savor it like a fine wine. When he finally pulls out, you make sure to show him your tongue, every drop swallowed, a wicked smile playing on your lips.
“Such a good girl,” he praises, his words sending a shiver down your spine. You can feel the heat pooling between your legs, your panties already soaked, the wetness likely trailing down your thighs.
“Yoongi, I love you,” you gasp, breathless, your hand brushing away the tears that had escaped while he fucked your mouth.
“I love you too,” he murmurs tenderly, his hand cradling your jaw before his fingers trace lightly over your lips. “Come on. Get up and get back on the bed.”
You nod, a shiver running down your spine as you comply. Rising from your position on the floor, you crawl over to the bed and settle yourself down, anticipation coursing through every fiber of your being.
Yoongi steps out of his pants with fluid grace, tossing his shoes aside before shedding his blazer and pulling his shirt over his head, revealing his naked form. You’re captivated by him, every inch of his body resonating with an irresistible allure. His skin, its familiar pale hue, speaks of hours spent indoors tinkering with cars, sculpting his lean physique with just a hint of muscle, a testament to his dedication and hard work.
As Yoongi draws near, he takes your feet in his hands, removing your heels with a gentle tug and allowing them to drop to the floor.
“What do you want, babe? I’ll give you everything,” he murmurs, his eyes filled with tender affection, awaiting your heart's deepest longing.
“I want to have your babies. Like we talked about. I want that future with you,” you confess, your voice trembling with anticipation, your body arching towards him, showing him just how wet you are, a silent invitation for him to claim you completely.
“Oh, babe. You know I want that too. It will be a moment before I’m ready to go again,” he murmurs, his hand moving to your leg, his touch sending shivers down your spine as his fingertips trace patterns of intimacy on your skin, making goosebumps appear.
“Just touch me. I want your hands all over my body, please, Yoon,” you plead, your eyes locking with his, your voice a soft melody of longing, your lip quivering as you await his touch.
He traces the map of your skin with a feather-light touch, igniting a trail of anticipation that sends shivers down your spine. As his fingers dance closer to the apex of your pussy, you hold your breath, yearning for his touch, but he tantalizingly skirts past, teasingly exploring every inch of your being before finally reaching your breasts. 
“Your boobs are so perky,” he murmurs, his touch tracing the delicate contours of your bra, coaxing your nipples to a tantalizing peak.
“No, they’re not,” you pout, feeling your pussy tighten and your body quiver in response to his touch.
“Don’t speak ill of your body. You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice a soft murmur against your skin as he gropes your breasts, his thumb tracing tantalizing circles around your nipples. Your heart races, torn between the desire for him to take you now and the intoxicating thrill of the teasing.
“And now you’re mine,” he murmurs, his voice dipped in darkness and possessiveness, thick with lust, sending shivers down your spine.
You chuckle softly, a playful glint in your eyes. “I was yours long before we said ‘I do.’ Marriage didn’t change that, you know?”
He chuckles softly, his touch sending shivers down your spine, yet his eyes hold yours, intense and full of promise. “Oh, I know,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing delicate patterns over your skin. “But now I have a piece of paper that says you’re mine and mine alone.”
You ask with a playful giggle, shifting closer into his touch. “Yoongi, are you possessive?” It’s more a statement than a question; you already know the answer. He’s likely the most possessive guy you’ve ever met, but it’s a quality you adore, one that ignites a wild, untamed energy within you.
“You know I don’t wanna share you with anyone,” he murmurs, locking his gaze with yours. The intensity in his eyes makes you wonder if he’s truly afraid of losing you, even though he shouldn’t be. You’ve loved him for so many years, most of them spent in denial, but they still count. His possessiveness only reassures you of the depth of his feelings, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“You know I’d never leave you, right?” you whisper, your voice filled with unwavering devotion and the weight of all the years you’ve shared, your eyes searching his for the reassurance you know you don’t need but crave to give.
“Hmmm, yes I know. You love me and my big cock too much,” he laughs, glancing down as his dick twitches back to life. 
“God, you’re so full of yourself,” you roll your eyes, only to moan as he pinches your nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. “But I guess it’s okay when you can back it up.”
“And yes, I love you,” you purr, your voice dripping with desire. “Now show me why I can’t get enough of that big cock of yours. I’m so wet already, Yoongi. Touch me,” you plead, spreading your legs even wider, a desperate invitation for his touch.
He licks his lips, a predatory glint in his eyes. “Then get on your hands and knees and lift that gorgeous ass for me, love.”
You shudder, anticipation coursing through you as you turn around and lift your hips, presenting yourself just the way he likes.
His hands glide over the curve of your ass, sending shivers through your body. His fingers find the straps of your suspenders, tugging them taut before releasing them to snap back against your skin. The sharp slap makes you hiss in pleasure, each stinging contact like a playful spank that only fuels your arousal, leaving you wetter by the second.
He does it again, and this time, a needy moan escapes your lips, the sound of it echoing through the van and blending with the rhythmic patter of rain outside.
You feel his hard cock press against your ass, and a surge of anticipation courses through you. The thought of him entering you, filling you completely, drives you wild with desire. You crave it, crave him, more than anything.
He seizes the suspenders once more, pulling them taut, their snap against your skin echoing in the confined space of the van, a sharp punctuation to the electric tension between you.
Fuck. You’re probably dripping on the sheets now.
With precision, he adjusts his position behind you, his touch gentle yet purposeful as he shifts your panties to the side, his fingers tracing the curves of your ass before the tantalizing sensation of his dick against your folds sends shivers down your spine.
“Down,” he purrs, his voice low and commanding, as he presses your back and head into the sheets with the firmness of his strong hand, igniting a primal thrill that courses through your veins.
You comply, sinking into the plush sheets, your anticipation mounting as you feel his cock teasing against your slick folds, yet he doesn’t yield to the sweet surrender of penetration.
With each powerful thrust, his hands firm on your hips, you feel the friction igniting a wildfire of need between you, his desire branding your skin with each passionate press.
“Fuck. You look so pretty in this. So sexy,” every movement sends ripples of pleasure through you, his words adding fuel to the fire of arousal burning within. His praise ignites a fierce longing, amplifying the intensity of every thrust against your folds, like he was fucking into you.
Desire courses through you like a wildfire, consuming every rational thought in its wake. The sensation of his fervent thrusts against your skin is intoxicating, yet beneath the surface, a primal yearning gnaws at your core, demanding to be sated with the ultimate union of your bodies.
Surging waves of pleasure crash over you, catching you off guard as your senses reel from the approaching climax. His name escapes your lips in ragged breaths, a fervent prayer whispered into the fabric of the sheets as ecstasy dances on the precipice of release.
As his tip brushes against your sensitive nub, a wave of ecstasy washes over you, eliciting a throaty moan of pleasure. It’s almost overwhelming, the intensity of sensation sending shivers down your spine. Every nerve ending ignites with desire, leaving you breathless and craving more. Fuck. Why does it feel this good? The question lingers in your mind, lost amidst the whirlwind of bliss.
“Do you think you can come like this?” His voice is a sultry whisper, laden with anticipation, as he plunges deeper onto your pussy. With each forceful thrust against your throbbing clit and slick folds, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. 
You clamp down on your lip, fighting back the wave of pleasure that threatens to engulf you completely. 
Through a choked sob, you manage to gasp out a breathless affirmation, your voice trembling with anticipation and need. “Yes,” you confess, your admission punctuated by the primal rhythm of his thrusts, each one pushing you closer to the precipice of ecstasy.
Every nerve in your body hums with a delicious tension, coiled tight like a spring ready to burst. With each electrifying touch, each tantalizing thrust, you teeter on the edge of oblivion, your senses ablaze with the promise of release. You’re on the brink, trembling on the precipice of ecstasy, and you know it won’t take much more for him to send you spiraling into blissful chaos.
“I’m already close,” you gasp, your voice a breathless plea, heavy with need and desire.
That admission ignites a fire within Yoongi, prompting him to alter his rhythm, trading speed for slow deliberate, powerful thrusts.
Fuck! His cock now pounds against your clit with even more intensity, sending waves of exquisite sensation coursing through you. It’s almost unbearable. It feels fucking delicious and you can’t take it anymore.
The moment is so intense, and you cry out his name as pleasure washes over you, without his skilled fingers or tongue touching you. It’s mind-blowing.
“Good girl,” his words of praise rain down on you like a soothing melody, even as he continues his slower thrusts, allowing you to savor the waves of your orgasm that leave you trembling with desire.
“Fuck, Yoongi. That was amazing, I—,” 
You’re cut off as Yoongi slowly eases his length into your entrance, the sensation of stretch mingling with pleasure, sending shivers down your spine. It’s intoxicatingly good, so utterly delicious, causing your fingers to clench around the sheets in a desperate grip.
“Fuck!” you pant, each inch he pushes in sending tremors of pleasure coursing through you, igniting every nerve ending with a feverish intensity of lust.
“Shit, you’re always so tight. And taking me so well,” he praises you, his voice husky with desire as your body responds, your inner muscles clenching around him in a rhythmic dance of ecstasy, eliciting a deep, primal moan from him.
When he’s finally fully in, you feel a rush of relief flood through you, the sensation of him stretching you sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. His hands roam your ass with a possessive hunger, seeking out the suspenders once more. As he pulls on them, the satisfying slap against your skin sends a jolt of delight through you, causing you to instinctively clench around him, eager for more.
“You really like that huh?” he chuckles, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and desire, “I do too. Seeing you like this, feeling you react to me—it’s intoxicating.”
“Yes! Just fuck me, Yoongi. I need you, I want you. Fill me up. Fuck me good and make me yours,” you plead, your voice laced with urgency and desire, each word punctuated by the heat of the moment.
“What my wife wants, she’ll get. You can count on that, love. I’ll fuck you good, don’t worry,” he reassures you with a firm pat on your back before plunging into you with renewed intensity, his movements becoming faster and harder with each thrust.
You moan uncontrollably, the sound escaping you in a crescendo of pleasure, unabashedly indulging in the obscenity of your own desire as he drives you to the brink with his relentless and skillful thrusts.
As he strikes that tender spot deep within you, a surge of ecstasy washes over you, rendering you utterly powerless to resist the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body, each thrust opening you up to a realm of bliss.
“Shit, I’m happy that I’ve already come, otherwise I’d be done for already,” he gasps, his grip on your hips tightening as he drives himself deeper into you, each thrust a symphony of raw desire and primal need.
Your relief mirrors his own, knowing that this time together will stretch out deliciously, allowing you to savor every moment of his passion. The anticipation builds within you, a craving to witness every expression, every twitch of pleasure on his face.
“Yoongi, please, I wanna see your face while you fuck me,” you plead, yearning to lock eyes with him as he thrusts into you. You strain to turn your head, craving the connection, the intimacy of sharing this moment with him, body and soul.
He pauses, withdrawing his cock from you momentarily, his breaths heavy with anticipation. “Then flip over, love,” he murmurs, his voice a husky promise, “Lie on your back, so I can see your face too as I make you mine.”
You comply, following his command eagerly, turning over and settling onto your back, legs parted invitingly. As he approaches, his dick in hand, slick with your essence, your anticipation heightens, every nerve alight with the promise of his touch.
“You look so gorgeous,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, as he guides his cock back into your pussy, each inch a testament to the intensity of your connection. A soft moan escapes your lips, his name a melody of pleasure on your tongue, as you revel in the ecstasy of his touch.
In this intimate position, you relish the opportunity to witness his unraveling, to see every expression of pleasure etched across his face as he reaches the pinnacle of ecstasy. When he finally succumbs to the waves of climax, it’s a sight that steals your breath away, one of the best in this world.
As he fills you up to the brim, a surge of affection floods through you, reflected in the warmth of your smile. With deliberate patience, he establishes a rhythm that's both tender and intense, each deliberate movement igniting a firestorm of sensation within you. The tantalizing dance of his hips against yours is almost torturous in its exquisite pleasure.
“You’re so handsome, Yoon,” you praise him, your voice a breathless whisper. “The way you’re making love to me right now… Fuck, it’s so good, I love it.”
You feel him twitch inside you, a subtle sign that he might not last as long as he thinks he will. A smirk dances across your lips, silently daring him to prove you wrong.
He descends to kiss you, the connection between your lips deep and passionate, matching the rhythm of his slow thrusts. The intimacy of the moment envelops you, igniting a fiery passion within. As he trails down to your neck, his kisses turn into playful nibbles, then a light bite, accompanied by a low, guttural groan of pleasure.
As his movements become more erratic, you sense his dick twitching more, prompting you to inquire, “Are you getting close again, Yoon?”
His voice, husky and filled with desire, caresses your ear as he murmurs your name, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze, his eyes smoldering with lust. “Not yet,” he breathes, his words sending a shiver down your spine.
His eyes rove over your body as his hands follow suit, moving to your breasts. He tugs at the lace, pulling the cups and bra up to expose your bare skin, wanting to see you fully, unobstructed by the fabric.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, his fingers trailing over your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples, sending shivers of pleasure cascading through you.
With a teasing pinch of your nipples, he makes you hiss his name in pleasure, a satisfied chuckle escaping his lips as he rolls his hips into you.
He moves down again, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples, making you arch your back in delight. He swirls his tongue around the bud before sucking hard, sending waves of pleasure through your body.
The knot in your stomach tightens, the sensation building rapidly. You feel like you’re teetering on the edge, almost ready to be pulled under, but not quite there yet.
“Fuck, Yoon. I’m so close,” you pant, your hands tangling in his black hair. You tug, making him release your nipple with a groan.
“What do you need?” he asks, his voice dripping with desire and affection.
“Touch my clit,” you pant, desperate and so fucking close, craving his touch to push you over the edge and come around his cock.
Before he sits back up, he leans in to kiss you deeply, then his hand finds your clit, teasing it lightly before tugging at the swollen nub. As his dick hits your soft spot, the pleasure intensifies, and you know you’re on the brink of coming, seeing stars with every thrust.
“So pretty,” he murmurs, rolling his hips into your pussy. His fingers work your clit with vigor, perfectly synchronized with his thrusts. The light pressure on your clit is just right, deep enough to make you shudder, your toes curling in pure delight.
“Yoon!” you warn him, feeling your body tighten in response to his touch. Then, like a coiled spring released, you cream his cock, his fingers still swirling slow circles on your clit.
You pant for air, your body thrashing on the bed, but Yoongi, skilled and attentive, steadies you somewhat with his other hand.
“So pretty. You’re leaking,” Yoongi murmurs, his gaze fixed on the point where your bodies are joined. You sense his appreciation for the sight, the way his eyes trace the path of his cock disappearing into you. Damn, you love seeing it too, and his fascination with your joined bodies sends a thrill through you. You can only imagine the mesmerizing image below, your cum dripping out of you while he continues to fuck into you.
Your pussy pulsates around his dick, a rhythm of its own, coaxing a deep, primal sound from his lips as he spills his seed inside your warm, welcoming depths, filling you up with each pulse of his release.
“Shit, sorry,” he pants, his grip on your left leg tightening slightly as he adjusts his position, his breath hot against your skin.
You shake your head, a grin spreading across your lips. “Don’t apologize for not warning me, Yoon. I don’t care. You can come where and whenever you want.” Your words are laced with desire, your voice a sultry whisper that sends a shiver down his spine.
You pull him down into your chest, enveloping him in the warmth of your embrace, his head resting against the softness of your breasts, while you feel a mixture of yours and his liquid seep out of you.
Yoongi breathes hard, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his exertion, his ear pressed against your chest, soaking in the comforting cadence of your heartbeat.
“Damn. It hit harder the second time. Caught me off guard,” he chuckles against your chest, his voice husky and tinged with fatigue, a testament to the intensity of your shared passion.
“Don’t worry,” you murmur, your hands soothingly tracing patterns on his back, eliciting a shiver from him that resonates within you as you feel him twitch slightly inside your pussy.
You don’t want him to pull away from you yet, so you hold him close, relishing in the intoxicating blend of his musky and sweaty scent enveloping you.
“Thank you, Yoongi. For marrying me, for loving me,” you start, your voice heavy with emotion, tears brimming in your eyes, each word carrying the weight of years of pining, love from afar and all the moments you’ve shared with him. 
He adjusts himself, his gaze locking with yours, “I should be the one thanking you. For loving me, for marrying me. For putting up with all my shit over the years.” His words carry a mix of gratitude and sincerity, a testament to the depth of his appreciation for your unwavering support and enduring love.
You chuckle softly, your eyes shimmering with affection. “Thank you for making today magical. With the twinkling lights and all the little surprises you had in store. You truly are the sweetest.” Your words are tender, carrying a warmth that reflects the depth of your appreciation for his thoughtfulness and effort.
With a soft smile, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss, a silent affirmation of his love and gratitude.
As he draws back, his gaze sparkles with boundless affection, warming your heart and coaxing a smile from your lips in response.
“Where will our adventure take us for our honeymoon?” you inquire, drawing him close for another tender kiss, eager to embark on this new journey together.
“I’ve already booked it. You’ll wait and see, it’s a surprise” he declares with a grin, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. You’re left wondering if it’s a tropical paradise with sandy beaches or a lush, verdant haven tucked away in nature’s embrace.
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Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts @constancelayon @wobblewobble822 @ktownshizzle @moonchild1 @ultimatefangirl0 @baechugff @jimintaemin @parapiop7 @fckkntired @iluvfndms @citypop-princess @tarahardcore @bergandysam @massivelyfullenthusiast @tatyhend @gimeow @jeonsbabygirlsworld
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Did you like it??? Are you excited for where they’re going on their honeymoon? 🥹
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asa-do-your-thing · 7 months ago
Text
Faileas
18+ MINORS DNI Cregan Stark x F!Reader 5.6k Warnings: SMUT, blowjob, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions forced marriage, dom / sub dynamics as always no proofreading no nothing
Hi guys! you wished for some Cregan action, here you go, some wintery woodsy and very sexy scenes for you <3
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The eerie silence of the snow-covered forest was suddenly shattered by a loud thump, jolting you out of your sleep. The sound echoed through the thick trees, sending shivers down your spine. You knew that snow never fell silently, but this was no gentle snowfall.
Someone or something had disturbed the peacefulness of the night.
Hastily pulling on your fur-lined boots and throwing on your warm cape, you grabbed your trusty ax, ready to defend yourself against any unwelcome visitors. The only light came from the full moon, casting elongated shadows across the ground. Your heart raced as you crept towards the door, unsure of what awaited you outside in the frigid darkness. Whoever was lurking around at this hour was most likely not a friendly soul.
Breathing deeply, you pushed open the door just a sliver to peer outside. The sight that met your eyes was nothing short of awe-inspiring. The snow lay pristine and untouched, beautifully illuminated by the silver glow of the moon. Each tree stood tall and heavy under its snowy blanket, the crystals shimmering with infinite variations of blue and silver under the celestial light.
Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught your attention. It was far off in the distance but distinct against the untouched snowscape. Fear surged through your veins, but courage stemmed from your noble upbringing spurred you on. As you stepped out into the winter night, the crisp air stung your face and the snow crunched under your boots. Your fingers tightened around the handle of your ax, its familiar weight offering some measure of comfort.
As you trudged deeper into the forest, it became clear that you were not alone. Footprints imprinted on the previously untouched surface told a tale of stealth and intention. A creature of some sort had indeed passed this way, disturbing the tranquility of your sanctuary.
You had sought solace in this barren place to offer your prayers. A giant Weirwood tree stood beside your modest dwelling, and you made offerings to it every day, seeking guidance. Your parents, who ruled House Knott, were determined to marry you off to an elderly Lord from the Stormlands. Desperate for someone to intervene, anyone at all, you turned to this sacred spot for help, but as it seemed, you were not entirely safe here.
Through gaps in the trees where moonlight penetrated, you saw it; a figure, cloaked in darkness paused momentarily at a clearing futher down. Its silhouette was hunched over as if peering at something in the snow.
Silently, like a wolf stalking its prey, you advanced cautiously towards it. Your heart pounded in your chest like a war drum as each breath became shallow and measured under stress. As you moved closer, an unexpected gust of wind swept through the trees making them groan under their icy load.
Spooked by the sudden noise, you gripped your axe tighter and lifted it up high, expecting the figure - a man in a cloak with fur over his shoulders - to jump up and attack you as soon as he thought you had let your guard down. He was most likely a poacher, trying to hunt down a skinny rabbit or a winter fowl.
“Poaching will get you hanged. Know that you are on the lands of House Knott and I shall bring you to the Lord if I catch you stealing from us,” you said calmly, your ax hanging over the man’s head. “And if you wish to attack me, I’ll lob your head off clean.”
The man quickly turned to face you, his eyes wide with surprise. He rose slowly, hands lifted in a placating manner. The man was tall, towering over you, and the moonlight revealed a wild shock of black hair and stormy grey eyes that seemed to carry a certain depth of experience and wisdom. There was something captivating about the way he looked at you, an intensity coupled with an unexpected warmth that was unlike any stranger you've encountered before.
“Easy there, m’lady,” he said, his voice resonating in the windless night. He cocked a small grin, his teeth white against his rugged features. His northern accent only added to his charm. “I’m no poacher, nor do I seek to harm you or rob your lands. I’m merely looking for shelter.”
His cloak billowed as he moved away from you towards a loneset tree nearby. In the dim light, you noticed a direwolf sigil stitched onto his cloak - the sigil of House Stark. An unexpected chill ran down your spine as realization hit.
"Lord Cregan Stark?" You questioned aloud, disbelief tinting your voice.
The man - Lord Stark - turned back to face you, giving a small nod as he surrendered jokingly with a chuckle. “Indeed," he confirmed in amusement, "Didn’t mean to startle you.”
A thousand questions danced in your mind as your grip on the axe loosened but did not let go completely. The Warden of the North standing before you in your family’s sanctuary in the Woods was something straight out of legends and ballads sung by minstrels at feasts.
“I… I can give you shelter, my Lord. Though it is only a small hut… It surely won’t live up to your expectations,” You mumbled and courtsied, trying to suppress the blush that formed on your cheeks.
Your mother has told you about Lord Stark, but seeing him there, in the moonlight, made you doubt her words. He was strikingly handsome, not at all boorish and violent like she had told you.
“Though, my Lord, if I may be so bold, I would’ve appreciated it greatly if you would have just knocked. I was prepared to hack you to pieces.”
Lord Cregan eyed you over. “Your hut? Are you Lady Knott? I thought she was an old hag, sitting and scheming around in her Keep. You’re decidedly younger and prettier.”
Approaching you slowly, he laid his large, gloved hand on the hilt of his sword. “If you aren’t Lady Knott, then what are you doing here, in the Knott’s Weirwood grove?”
You narrowed your eyes, straightening your posture as you met his gaze. "I am Lady Knott...the younger one," you clarified, feeling the corners of your mouth quirk up in a small smile.
"You might be confusing me with my mother." You watched as the hint of surprise crossed his features before transforming into an appreciative chuckle.
"Well then, that would explain the confusion," Lord Cregan replied, leaning against the tree he had been approaching earlier. He looked at you with renewed interest. "And as for knocking, I thought no one would be occupying this place at this hour. A slight miscalculation on my part."
Your smile widened as you stepped forward, crossing your arms over your chest. "Next time, my lord, take the time to knock. Or better yet, send a raven ahead of time."
His laughter echoed through the grove, a rich and deep sound that resonated within you. "Noted, Lady Knott."
Looking back at him composedly, you added: "But if you're still suspicious of me, Lord Stark, then by all means go back into the forest and sleep there..."
Lord Cregan raised an eyebrow at you. His eyes danced with a playful gleam under the moon's glow. There was a moment of tense silence before he let out another hearty laugh that vibrated through the grove.
"I doubt anyone would be foolish enough to turn away from such generous hospitality,” he answered warmly.
His words filled you with warmth even against the cold wind. He was not what your mother had made him out to be; he was far from it.
"Speaking of hospitality, my lord, would you care to step inside the hut?" you asked, tilting your head towards the entrance of the small dwelling. "I promise I won't hack you to pieces. At least, not tonight."
Once more, his laughter echoed through the trees, creating a symphony with the rustling leaves and nocturnal sounds.
"Lead the way, Lady Knott," Lord Cregan instructed, his eyes sparkling with curiosity as he followed you into the hut. Inside was an array of family relics; old books, carefully crafted tapestries depicting ancient tales from their lands, and one prominent weirwood table where you had been preparing for your moonlit prayers.
You began to explain yourself, your hands nervously fidgeting as you gestured around the sacred space. "I come here often,” you admitted. "A little strange perhaps, for a young noble lady to find solace in such a... rudimentary place. But I find it peaceful."
Lord Cregan's eyes roamed over your treasured sanctum with evident respect. "And tonight?" he asked, glancing back at you as he leaned against one of your stack of books.
A sigh escaped your lips as you braced yourself to confide in this stranger who felt oddly trustworthy. "Tonight... Tonight I came here to pray against my marriage," your voice wavered toward the end.
His brows furrowed curiously and he inclined his head slightly sideways in question. "Against?"
"My parents have arranged my marriage," you clarified hastily. An uneasy laugh escaped your lips as tried to lighten up your confession. "To a sixty year old widower. A Lord from the Stormlands. Lord Symon Dondarrion, they said.”
Shrugging quickly, you put another piece of wood into the hearth and watched the embers reddening. Why were you rambling so? Lord Stark probably did not care.
His silence was unsettling. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he finally broke it with a soft, "I see." His gaze softened, empathy seeping through his glacial eyes as he watched the dancing flames of the hearth reflect in yours.
“And what does the young Lady wish for?" Lord Cregan asked, taking hesitant steps towards you. His sturdy voice echoed in the tight confines of the hut.
Despite his status as a powerful lord, he appeared genuinely interested. You drew in a shaky breath before managing to voice your deepest desire out loud. "To stay in the North," you answered honestly. "To stay where I have grown up, not having to go to… well, almost Dorne. And not having to marry an old man…."
A thoughtful silence fell between you both. Outside, the wind had picked up and was causing the leaves to rustle and twigs to snap under its force. Stark's gaze drifted towards one of your family small tapestries, where large, rugged old men sat next to sour-faced women, wolves and bears at their feet.
"In Winterfell," he began turning his steady gaze back to you, “we have a saying: ‘The lone wolf dies but the pack survives’. At times, alliances made are for survival not just for one individual, but for their kin and their people."
He paused for a moment and sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his head with his gloved hand, before taking it off. The warmth was catching up to him, it seemed. The seriousness faded from his face and he offered you a small smile. "But it doesn't mean that it has to be so bleak.”
The warm fires of the hearth flickered across his rugged features as he stepped closer to you. You could feel your heart drumming louder in your chest as he neared.
"For now, you’re here in the North. Isn’t that… good?”, he said, seemingly trying to cheer you up.
You felt your face flush with embarrassment as you stumbled out of your sodden boots and removed your drenched cloak. It was only then that you realized the inappropriateness of your attire for hosting the esteemed Warden of the North. The topic of your impending marriage also felt uncomfortable to discuss with him.
"Um, yes...I suppose so," you stammered, at a loss for words.
"But...that's not really important right now." Your awkwardness only seemed to grow in his intimidating presence. “If I may be so bold, what were you doing here, north of the Wolfswood, without any guards?”
The corners of Lord Cregan's mouth twitched ever so slightly, as if he was amused by your audacious question. He stood from the stack of books and began pacing the hut, each step measured and silent. "You have a keen sense for observation, Lady Knott," he began, the moonlight streaming through the window to highlight his stern profile.
He paused, leaning against the old ironwood table, his fingers gently brushing over a worn out book that lay there. "In all honesty," he admitted, not looking directly at you, but at the memorabilia scattered across the space. "I'm here on kind of...a pilgrimage."
"A pilgrimage?" you echoed, brows furrowing in confusion. You weren't sure what you expected, but that was certainly not it.
"Yes," he answered simply, before turning to face you properly. His eyes glowed with a certain intensity that made your heart flutter. "In my early youth, I often wandered these woods; it gave me a sense of calm that nothing else could."
"Even though Winterfell is known for its peace and tranquility?" you couldn’t help but jest lightly.
A deep chuckle echoed through the room as Lord Cregan nodded in amusement. "Even then," he confirmed. "Sometimes even the peaceful walls of Winterfell can feel suffocating."
You couldn't help but relate to his confession; even amongst your own family and kinfolk, there were times when you felt bereft of inner peace. It was one of the reasons why you often sought refuge in this secluded hut.
Lord Cregan sought your gaze again, the playful light replaced with a slightly darker one, although not completely sinister. “I think that the Gods have answed both of our prayers, though.”
Sitting down onto your bed, you offered him your chair and gestured towards a large bottle of wine, wordlessly inviting him to pour himself some, if he wished to. “My Lord?”, you asked, not quite knowing what he meant, cocking your head to the side.
Sitting down with a sly smile, he shrugged. “Well, I’m looking for a wife that is not a simpering flower. You’re looking for a strong, young, northern Lord. Or am I wrong, Lady Knott?”
His words hung in the air, creating an electric tension that you could physically feel. The preposterousness of his proposition was too absurd to believe, and yet his confident demeanor suggested he was entirely serious. You hesitated, eyeing him cautiously as if expecting him to erupt into a fit of laughter, revealing it to be a cruel jest. But the man before you remained grave and composed.
The silence stretched out between you like a yawning chasm. His question echoed in your mind, circling around like an insistent buzz. A desperate urge bubbled within you to provide a witty response, anything to alleviate the suffocating heaviness, but words failed to formulate.
Your mouth went dry as dust and for a moment, you worried that you had lost the ability to speak. All you could manage was a weak whisper of "What?" that surely Lord Cregan didn't even hear.
To your surprise, he didn't repeat himself or elaborate on his shocking proposal. Instead, he simply leaned back into his chair and studied you intently as he took a slow sip of the wine you offered him earlier.
A long moment passed before he finally broke the silence, a faint smile gracing his lips. "It's late," he stated simply, standing up from his chair and setting down his cup. You blinked at him in surprise, suddenly realizing how true his words were. The hourglass on your desk indicated that it was way past the hour of the bat.
Lord Cregan made his way towards you, his every movement graceful and measured. He paused, sliding his cloak off, quickly and gently holding your chin in his large hands, making you look up at him. “Tell me if you oppose this. Say the words and I will leave.”
Your breath hitched in your throat as his gaze bore into yours. The fiery intensity, the sheer command in his eyes was insurmountable. His words, though spoken softly, echoed thunderously in your ears. You had always considered yourself a strong-willed woman, not easily swayed by men and their games. But at this moment, looking up at him, you felt a strange fluttering sensation inside you.
The silence extended between you both like a spectral hand reaching out. His statement hung in the chilled air of the room, as if it were suspended on invisible threads. Your heart pounded in the hollow of your chest like a war drum echoing in an empty battlefield.
"Oppose what?" you found yourself asking, your voice barely above a whisper. You held his gaze, your mind racing to comprehend his proposal. Was he suggesting... matrimony? Surely not. The mere suggestion was preposterous.
Lord Cregan Stark of Winterfell would never consider someone like you for a wife... would he?
He held your gaze steadily, yet there was a deep gentleness in his eyes that seemed to melt away the icy chill of the room. "Our union," he said simply, his voice quiet yet full of gravity. You blinked up at him incredulously.
Although his words were laced with an undeniable seriousness, you couldn't help but chuckle nervously at the absurdity of it all. "You are jesting." Your words came out as more of a statement than a question.
But the Warden of the North merely shook his head slightly, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Are you suggesting that I am a fool?”
Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. “Of course not! It’s just… how? How will you tell my parents? What will you tell Lord Dondarrion if he would protest?”
“Your father, Lord Knott, has sworn his allegiance to me. He will do as he is told. And Dondarrion… Do you really think that an old Stormlord will ever wish to come up to the North to fight me?”, he said confidently.
The certainty in Lord Cregan's voice was enough to squelch any remaining doubts swimming in your mind. His magnetic confidence had a way of drawing you in, making you question the foundations of your own thoughts and beliefs.
Still, you couldn't help but let out a dry laugh, leaning back against the bedpost with a hint of incredulity in your eyes.
“Cocksure and audacious. I suppose these are traits that I should expect from the Lord of Winterfell,” you commented wryly, crossing your arms over your chest. A soft light danced in his eyes at your words as he rested his hand on the wooden table, leaning towards you ever so slightly.
"And yet, here we are," he began, his tone mild as he absorbed the weight of your words. "In this secluded little hut, far away from prying eyes and the judgmental gaze of society."
He paused slightly, his gaze softening with an emotion that was too complex to decipher. "Should we not take this opportunity and consider what happiness we could find in one another?"
Your breath hitched at his question, a dull ache spreading through your chest as his words sunk in. The thought of marrying Lord Cregan Stark had never crossed your mind until this moment; it was simply a dream too far-fetched and distant for someone like you to entertain.
And yet, here he was - proposing just that.
A mischievous smile then took over his face, as if he had realized something amusing. “Though I must admit,” he said, moving closer to you till his face was just inches away from yours. “If I wouldn’t have known of your predicament, I wouldn’t have minded your company either. You’re a pretty one, Lady Knott.”
His eyes twinkled in the flickering candlelight, his usually stern facial features smoothed and made softer by the intimate atmosphere. The warmth that radiated from him was infectious, causing an involuntary blush to creep up your cheeks.
“Lady Knott, you're blushing,” he observed, a triumphant smirk etched on his face as he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze playfully inspected your flustered form before he quickly masked his amused expression with a serious one. “I believe I have chased away all your doubts?”
The faintest hint of uncertainty still lingered within you, yet the way Lord Cregan looked at you made it seem like everything was possible. You nodded at him, mustering a small smile. “I suppose you did.”
He gave you a curt nod in response before pushing himself from his chair, a determined gleam in his wolfish eyes. “Then we waste no more time.”
Tension filled the air as he took your hand, guiding you out of the hut and into the dense underbrush. Despite being bundled in cloaks which you had hastily thrown on, both of you shivered from the cold winds that whipped around you. You led Cregan through the towering forest, feeling his steady and confident stride on the snow-covered terrain. It gave you strength knowing he trusted you blindly, following your lead without question. The howling northern wind only added to the intensity of the moment.
After what felt like an eternity of walking, you stopped abruptly in front of a gigantic Weirwood tree; its bark white as snow and leaves blood-red. There was an air of solemnity around it that commanded respect and awe.
“We are here,” you said simply, turning to look up at him with shaking hands reaching for his. “Are you sure?”
The wind whistled hauntingly through the trees, as if nature herself bore witness to this tremendous decision. Cregan Stark returned your shaky grip and looked deep into your eyes. His gaze was dark and stormy, an echo of the northern lands he led. Yet beneath that cold exterior was a layer of profound certainty, an unwavering resolve that was comforting in its strength.
"More sure than I've ever been," he finally said, his voice carrying the weight of the moment. He turned towards the old Weirwood tree, a symbol of his heritage and upbringing. “May the Old Gods bear witness to our oath.”
With your hands still wrapped in each other's, Cregan led you to the base of the ancient tree. You paused in awe at its size and majesty, feeling both insignificant and profoundly special at the same time. The Weirwood's face seemed to stir with an ancient wisdom as if acknowledging your presence.
Taking a deep breath, Cregan started speaking in earnest. “Before the gods, I declare my intent to wed Lady Knott,” his voice echoed through the silent forest, every word carving itself into existence as it lingered in the air.
He then looked at you, his gaze warm yet intense. "Do you willingly accept this union, Lady Knott? If so, speak your vows before the Weirwood."
For a moment there was silence, you gulped down the lump in your throat before speaking up softly yet firmly, “I do accept this union.” You took a step closer to him, hand slipping out of his to rest on his chest over his heart. “Do you willingly accept this union, Lord Stark?”
A silence fell over the eerie forest, the air seeming to hold its breath as if the trees themselves awaited his answer. Cregan Stark studied your face, a mix of love and solemnity in his gaze. He placed his hand over yours, his heart thudding steadily beneath your touch.
"Yes," he finally replied. His voice was a hushed whisper that nonetheless echoed through the silence, sending flocks of distant birds into flight. "I accept this union willingly." His hand tightened around yours. "With all my heart, Lady Knott."
The Weirwood seemed to shiver in response; its leaves rustling softly against the backdrop of the still night. His vow hung potent in the air, mingling with the soft rustling of leaves and echoing in the distance until it seemed to become one with the heartbeat of the very forest.
Humbled by his words and bearing witness to this union, you felt something in you stir. It was an intoxicating sensation, a heady mix of fear and excitement that made your heart pound in your chest like a war drum.
You both knelt before the Weirwood then, dipping your heads in reverence to the Old Gods. Shivering from more than just the frigid cold as snowflakes kissed your cheeks while they fell delicately from above. “May our lives entwine as tightly as our hands are now,” Cregan said softly, squeezing your fingers gently.
“May we grow old together under their watchful eyes,” you added, holding Cregan’s gaze with a bright smile on your face. The warmth radiating between you two belied the biting cold of winter.
He pulled you up, brushing the powdery snow off your backside. With an impish grin, he hoisted you into his arms and you couldn't help but blush.
"I'm your husband now, my dear. Let's save the 'Lord' title for when you are bouncing on my cock." He planted a playful kiss on your forehead before strutting back to the hut. It was clear he couldn't wait to fulfill his marital duties, making you blush and giggle at his eagerness.
With the Weirwood's milky bark glistening under the moonlight as a silent witness to your secret union, you clung onto Cregan as he carried you back to the hut. Your heart pounded loudly in your chest, every beat echoing the promises of love and devotion you both had made under the ancient tree.
Warm light spilled from the narrow slit of a window, illuminating the path leading to your shared domicile. The wind whipped frosty kisses against your cheeks, but entwined securely in Cregan's arms, you were in a cocoon of warmth that dulled the bite of winter.
He pushed open the door with his foot and set you down gently on the thick fur rug next to the smoldering hearth. His eyes danced devilishly over your body as he shrugged off his cloak, allowing it to fall carelessly onto the floor. He then proceeded to help you out of yours, his fingers lingering on areas he promised himself he would explore later.
While his hands were busy undressing you, his mouth claimed yours in an intense battle of dominance. You responded eagerly, matching his fervor and intensity. His mouth tasted like fire and mulled wine, a heady combination that sent shivers down your spine.
His hands found their way up your body, exploring every inch until they landed on your breasts. He kneaded them gently through your dress, eliciting a small gasp from you. The sound only served to spur him on as he moved swiftly and purposefully, undoing the lacing of your dress before sliding it down around your feet.
You stood naked before him, feeling both vulnerable and powerful as you watched him admiring you. “Having any doubts?”, you asked cheekily, enjoying his rapt attention more than a proper Lady should have.
“Doubts? Ha! Never. I shall thank the Gods every day henceforth for making us meet,” Cregan mumbled huskily as he pulled his clothes off, desperate to be rid of them as soon as he could. “Sit on the bed and open your legs for me. I want to see you… All of you.”
You blushed immensely and did as you were told. When you saw Cregan standing in front of you, just like the Gods had made made him, you couldn’t help but blush. You had never seen a man that made you feel the way he did - everything from his muscular shoulders to his hairy chest down to his big, throbbing member made you go crazy. Was this a dream? It had to be.
“You are stunning,” he whispered reverently as he joined you on the bed. His hands traced over your hips, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he moved upwards to cup your breasts. He teased your nipples lightly before parting your folds with his other hand.
“Cregan,” you moaned as his fingers found their target, sending sparks shooting straight to your core. His digit slid across your wetness before dipping inside, and you couldn’t help but arch your back in response.
“So wet for me already," he rasped, a smirk playing on his lips. “I knew you were a naughty girl from the first moment I saw you.” The teasing continued as he angled his hips, pressing the head of his cock against your cheek, before gently guiding it towards your moistened lips. “Do you want to prove me right, my pretty little wife?”
"Cregan, I… yes,” you mumbled senselessly, gently letting him enter your mouth as he continued stroking your pearl, though as soon as you let your tongue glide around his tips, his movements started becoming more and more erratic.
“Gods, that feels good,” he groaned. Encouraged by his reaction, you continued your ministrations, sucking him deeper into your mouth as he thrust in and out.
It wasn’t long before your moans mingled with his own, creating a symphony of wanton lust and desire that echoed off the walls of the hut. He pulled away abruptly with a groan. “No more," he panted heavily. "I won't last much longer like this."
With one smooth move, he flipped you over onto your stomach, spreading your legs wide apart. You felt him nudge against your entrance, hot breaths fanning over your chest, sending shivers down your spine. “Are you ready for me?”
“I… I think so, Yes…,” you mumbled, shaking in anticipation.
“Wait… Are you still a maiden?” Cregan asked incredulously, gently lowering himself next to you, kissing you and holding you close to him so that you would not get cold. Not being able to do anything else than to nod, you blushed and closed your eyes as you felt his arms wrapping around you and lifting you onto him.
“Oh… I, ah…”, you muttered and blushed as you saw this large, handsome man lying underneath you and grinning up at you.
“Hush, you needn’t say anything. Just do whatever feels good for you. I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered and laid his hands onto your hips.
Your heart was racing as you felt Cregan's strong, calloused hands slip you onto him, giving you the control over the situation. Blushing, as you felt the heat of his skin against your own, you braced yourself for the slight pain that would come, yet breathed it out before sinking onto his cock with a small moan, your cheeks heating up even more.
The bed dipped under your combined weight as he grasped your waist and thrust gently upward, pushing himself further inside. Your body reacted instinctively, latching onto him with every inch until he's buried to the hilt inside you.
“Good girl… Fuck…” Cregan mumbled and gently held you down, gazing up at you with incredulous eyes.
You tried to focus on something other than the sensation, but it was impossible. His muscled, hairy chest rose and fell with each ragged breath beneath you while his hands roamed down your back—smooth skin meeting soft curves—and grasping your ass cheeks firmly. He held you there with one hand while the other slid between your legs, pushing against that sensitive spot between them that made your toes curl just from the touch.
“Oh G-gods…”, was all you managed to stutter out as you felt yourself tightening around him.
You let out a tiny moan as you began to move, rocking your hips gently back and forth as he groaned and shivered underneath you. Each thrust sent wave after wave of pleasure through every nerve ending in your body, making it impossible not to squirm. His cock was long and thick inside you, filling you completely as you took control of the pace. As he raised himself up on his elbows and took one of your breasts, gently pinching your nipple, you squealed and felt your release washing over you, barely able to hold yourself over him.
“Just like that, my girl… You’re perfect…”, Cregan mumbled as he gently guided you under him, kissing you with great fervour as he repositioned himself, gently pressing your thighs down onto your stomach, lifting your feet onto his broad shoulders.
Before you could wonder what he was doing, he pushed himself inside you, making you moan loudly. This angle felt even better than before and you felt giddy at him looming over you, fucking up into you as if you were a dirty harlot and it made you tighten around him even more.
“Cregan, my Lord, I… ah…”
“Shh…” He silenced you with a hungry kiss, grinding his hips against yours in a primal rhythm. The air was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and your moans as he continued pounding into you, each thrust harder than the last. “You're so fucking tight, I can't...”
His words spurred you on, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to go even faster and harder. He obliged, his cock brushing against your insides in all the right places. It didn't take long for the sensations to build up again, but this time it was more intense than before - like a ball of fire deep within your belly that grew bigger and bigger until you couldn't take it anymore.
“Cregan, I… I can’t...”
“That's it, my girl… let it go,” he growled as he thrust one last time, filling you with his hot seed, making your orgasm explode inside of you like a supernova of pure bliss. Your screams echoed through the hut as you shook uncontrollably, both gasping for air as your heartbeats slowed down.
“Well done...”, he panted out. “I knew you'd be... perfect. My Lady Stark.”
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harunayuuka2060 · 7 months ago
Text
Twst Unveil Event Part 7
Rook: Monsieur Tranquille! How are you feeling?
Yuurin: I'm feeling better now after Leona-senpai forced me to take a nap.
Rook: *chuckles* As expected from Roi des Lions! He knows how to look after his underclassmen!
Yuurin: Anyway, Rook-senpai, our match is about to start. What are you doing here?
Rook: I'm here to wish you luck, Monsieur Tranquille.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: What place have you chosen, senpai?
Rook: The forest of nymphs.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Are you alright, senpai?
Rook: Why, yes! Monsieur Tranquille! Why do you ask?
Yuurin: Nymphs wouldn't normally allow strangers in their personal space.
Rook: Well, yes. However, after knowing that I am an acquaintance of yours, they have asked me of one thing.
Yuurin: And that is?
Rook: Your photo, Monsieur Tranquille!
Yuurin: ...
Rook: *smiling*
Philomela: It's time for our last match! Fighters! Are you ready?!
Rook: Oui!
Yuurin: Yes.
Malleus: I wonder what kind of place Hunt has chosen.
Silver: It's a forest.
Floyd: Eh~? A forest~?
Sebek: Hmph! It's nothing unique like any of us had chosen!
Philomela: *laughs* Nothing special, eh?
Philomela: Rook Hunt had to ask permission from the nymphs before he was granted an access!
Malleus: Oh. Is that so?
Philomela: Yes. And ah! It's Yuurin's favorite place!
Silver: Favorite place?
Philomela: *laughs* You will find out why!
*The forest of the nymphs*
Yuurin: ...
The nymphs: Yuurin~
The nymphs: Yuuuriiiinnn~
Leona: *frowns*
Jack: There are voices calling her but I see no one there.
Ruggie: And on top of that, Rook is not on sight too.
Leona: That bastard is hiding. Grr.
Yuurin: ...
The nymphs: Yuurin~ Forget about the match and let's play~
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: No, thank you. But I'll accept your invitation some other time.
The nymphs: You used to play with us when you were little...
Yuurin: ...
The nymphs: If you lose against the French, will you play with us?
Leona: What?! They're going to support Rook?!
Ruggie: Hey, Philomela! I thought that forest was Yuurin's favorite place?!
Philomela: Of course! That's the place where he always goes missing!
Leona, Ruggie, and Jack: HUH?!
Jade: Oh dear.
Philomela: Though that was before. Yuurin can navigate the forest now even if it changes its path.
Leona: *sarcastically* Wow, thanks, that's reassuring.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Yes. And I'll have an easy time losing if you disclose his location.
The nymphs: *giggles* Oh, but we promised not to tell.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: I see.
Yuurin: He won't show himself until it's the right time.
Philomela and the others: *watches Yuurin as she started to search for Rook*
Epel: Wow...! Yuurin is jumping on branches!
Floyd: Go, damselfish~!
Leona, Jack, and Ruggie: ...
Sebek and Silver: ...
Malleus: Hunt is chasing him.
Jade: Indeed.
Epel: Huh? Where?
Rook: *quietly follows Yuurin*
Rook: *chuckles to himself*
Yuurin: *sensing that she's being followed; decided to change route* *comes down from the trees and starts running*
The nymphs: Yuurin~
Yuurin: I need to find a clearing.
Rook: *starts to quicken his pace*
Yuurin: !!!
Rook: *begins shooting arrows while in pursuit of her*
Yuurin: *dodges them*
Leona: ROOK!
Jack: Isn't that against the rules?!
Philomela: Nope.
Jack: ...
Leona, Jack, and Ruggie: *are getting frustrated*
Malleus: Ten minutes have already wasted.
Silver: Yes. Time is flying.
Sebek: ...
Sebek: It would be unfortunate if Yuurin loses in this match.
Floyd: Eh~ You're just underestimating damselfish, crocodile~.
Sebek: DON'T CALL ME CROCODILE!
Rook: Monsieur Tranquille! Your stamina is really impressive!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: This can't do.
Rook: Hm?
Yuurin: *suddenly stops and faces Rook*
Rook: !!!
Yuurin: Please forgive me, but I'll have to make a clearing! *uses her wind magic to clear part of the forest*
Rook: Whoa...
Yuurin: ...
The nymphs: You'll pay for this, Yuurin...
Yuurin: I'm really sorry.
Jade: My, that was a strong wind.
Epel: But it didn't affect Rook-senpai!
Philomela: That's because he wasn't the target.
Leona: ...
Leona: Tch. *mutters* She should've sent him flying.
Ruggie and Jack: *hearing him* But she would get disqualified...
Yuurin: Rook-senpai, I have set the stage for us.
Rook: ...
Rook: *smiles* I appreciate the gesture, Monsieur Tranquille.
Yuurin: *in her fighting stance*
Rook: *approaches her quickly, aiming to grab her*
Yuurin: *dodges, then realizes that it was a feint*
Yuurin: Huh?
Rook: *sneaks behind her; doing a Full Nelson Hold* *lifting her off the ground*
Yuurin: !!!
Floyd: Eh~?! He's copying my move!
Jade: *chuckles* However, it looks more effective when he's doing it.
Floyd: *pouts*
Floyd: Damselfish! Do something and escape the hold!
Rook: *chuckles* You're doing well, Monsieur Tranquille. *tightens the hold*
Yuurin: ...
Rook: You won't even show that you're struggling?
Rook: There is no shame in that.
Yuurin: Rook-senpai, you are forgetting...
Yuurin: That I'm not your prey.
Rook: Eh?
Yuurin: *the muscles in her arms become more visible and prominent as she grabs his hands, breaking them apart*
Rook: Monsieur Tranquille, you know very well that our strength is—
Rook: *is losing the hold*
Rook: —different...
Yuurin: *successfully broke free from him*
Rook: ...
Leona: HAHA! YOU'RE DOOMED, ROOK!
Jack and Ruggie: ...
Malleus: I've never seen Kingscholar this enthusiastic before.
Epel: Haha... Me too.
Yuurin: *about to take revenge on Rook*
Rook: Monsieur Tranquille! We can talk this out!
Yuurin: No.
Rook: But—
Yuurin: !!!
Yuurin: *falls to her knees*
Rook: Monsieur Tranquille?
Yuurin: ...
Philomela: THE MATCH IS OVER! IT'S A TIE!
Ruggie: Huh? What happened?
Philomela: The nymphs have intervened.
Philomela: Look.
The nymphs: *have surrounded Rook and Yuurin; with a few holding Yuurin in place*
Leona: Are they going to hurt him?!
Philomela: Hm. Fortunately, his godmothers are there. I'm sure they will just lecture him for destroying part of the forest.
Everyone: Oh...
Leona: How about Rook?
Philomela: They will let him leave.
Philomela: Anyway! That's all for our wrestling competition!
Philomela: Too bad Yuurin wasn't able to finish it off! *laughs*
Them: ...
Yuurin: *has returned with kiss marks all over her face*
Leona, Ruggie, and Jack: ...
Leona: Looks like they gave you lots of smooches, huh?
Yuurin: *nods*
Leona: ...
Leona: *laughs*
Ruggie and Jack: *sigh*
Philomela: I thank everyone for participating in this wrestling match! I had fun watching you all!
The audience: *cheers*
Philomela: And now that it's over! It's time for celebration!
Philomela: Eat! Dance! And drink all you want!
The students: YEAH!!!
Yuurin: ...
Silver: Everyone is lively.
Yuurin: Oh, hello, Silver-senpai.
Sebek: Hmph! Why did we have to change our clothes?!
Floyd: Ooh~ It's breezy~.
Rook: You look gorgeous, Monsieur Tranquille!
Leona: Hey! Fuck off, Rook!
Malleus: Congratulations, Yuurin.
Yuurin: Thank you, Malleus-senpai. But I didn't win.
Jade: It's a tie; however you could count that as a win since Rook Hunt asked you to talk. *chuckles*
Rook: Oui! If not for the nymphs, I would've lost!
Epel: Yeah... Yuurin looked like he was about to beat Rook in a pulp.
Ruggie: Yeah! Shishishi!
Jack: Yuurin, we should do our own wrestling match next time.
Yuurin: Sure.
Philomela: YUURIN! COME HERE AND SING A SONG FOR US!
Yuurin: ...
Everyone: You sing?
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Yes. But the songs I know are not suited for this occasion.
Philomela: YUURIN!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: *sighs* What do you want me to sing?
Philomela: "DONE FOR" AND "THERE ARE OTHER WAYS" FROM THE EPIC MUSICAL!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Are you kidding me?
Epel, Ruggie, and Floyd: *searches the songs and lyrics* Oh...
Silver: What kind of song is it?
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: You'll know.
Them: *after hearing the lyrics*
Them: ...
Leona: What in the world—
Epel: His voice is so good!
Floyd: Yeah~! I feel like I'm being seduced~.
Sebek: Huh! If you were in Odysseus's position, you have already failed!
Silver: ...
Malleus: Hmm... Isn't the one singing with Yuurin the nymph from the enchanted garden?
Them: ...
Ruggie: Damn— No wonder she's feeling it!
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yuoimia · 1 year ago
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DAY 3: IT’S JUST THE TWO OF US ❅⋆⍋
summary: a cozy vacation spent in another nation
characters: neuvillette, xiao, baizhu, wanderer, ayato, kaeya, childe, lyney, albedo, zhongli, wriothesley, venti, diluc, alhaitham, kazuha.
notes: locations handpicked by me!! these are general days in another nation, you’re not really doing anything too exhilarating, total wc: 1.8k.
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ dreamy december event masterlist
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mondstadt, starfell lake - neuvillette, xiao, baizhu
Breezy and wide plains on the tops of jagged mountains, carrying a sweet breeze of berries and dandelions. Mondstadt, the nation of freedom, stole the hearts of numerous travelers, with its homely and cozy atmosphere, frolicking the winds all around Teyvat and coaxing the interest of many.
It was Mondstadt’s virtue that first drew him in. Freedom, peace, and comfort, the only things he has ever hoped, wished, yearned with every fibre of his being. Mondstadt sounded like a long-awaited exhalation of air, to finally breathe in a new breath of fresh opportunities and beginnings.
The earliest beams of sunshine crept through the sheer curtains.
If it were any other day, you’d let out a vexed groan before rolling to the other side. But today, today was another day in Mondstadt, and you’d be stupid to let any of the time go to waste.
Shoving the curtains aside, you observe in awe as Starfell Lakes glimmers like a pool of sapphire diamonds or like a flutter of fairies, their pixiedust sprinkling a bit of happiness into your day.
“It really is so beautiful here.”
The abrupt voice startles you for a split second. “Don’t creep up on me like that,” faux disappointment lacing your voice. He mutters a quiet apology before letting out a faint smile, interchangeably switching his gaze from you to the lake.
“Should we go outside?”
You nod in agreement, the excitement rejuvenating you even further. “If it’s this spectacular from afar, can you imagine how majestic it must be up close?”
“Very majestic,” he repeats, leading you both out the door.
liyue, jueyun karst - wanderer, ayato, kaeya
Dizzying peaks and swirling mists convey an atmosphere of grandeur and mystique, alluring visitors and their fascination towards the beauty of Jueyun Karst, rumoured to be the abode of the adepti, typically unreachable by mortals. Yet, there was always an abundance of people willing to test their luck and willpower, returning to tell dramatic tales of exaggerated perils and glory. Even so, there were still facts that none could deny about the quiet abode, namely, the distinctive tranquility fusing within its clouds.
It’s truly hard to believe that you weren’t a figure in a watercolor painting. Soft brushes of orange, yellow, and green leaves dance in the chilly breeze. The sound of approaching footsteps quickly snaps you out of your afternoon reverie as you turn your head towards a familiar face.
He greets you with an unsually innocent, lighthearted wave, accompanied with an intriguing wrapped basket. It doesn’t take much to piece together the pieces and present an overall message, not that he tried very hard to conceal it. Perhaps this vacation has muddled up parts of his cognitive functions.
“How are you feeling?” he inquires, the question evoking some sort of suspicion within you. “Hungry? Bored?” he continues, appearing oblivious to your raised eyebrows.
“…both?” you reply, a little confused and hesitant. “I won’t say no to some lunch.”
“Perfect, I found just the place.”
inazuma, chinju forest & grand narukami shrine - childe, lyney, albedo
Luminous flowers hidden deep in the forests, fragrant cherry blossoms lining the streets of Inazuma—the diverse variation of natural features that Inazuma beholds captivates the interest of those seeking something different, a thirst for something that simply cannot be found anywhere else.
Chinju forest, a secluded area of glowing streams and blooms, far enough from the attention of the city, and close enough to the allure of the grand shrines, a more than ideal option.
In the space of Chinju Forest, day was like night, and night was like day. There was really no hourglass here, where time ambled, the grains of sand dripping one at a time. It unlocked a rare sense of bliss, where no-one was obliged to be anything or do anything.
Despite the strong desire to explore the all-imposing Grand Narukami Shrine, the sheer amount of the flight of stairs that you needed to overcome was already giving you second thoughts.
“…Please don’t tell me…there’s more,” he groans, almost succumbing to his knees and screaming up at the sky. “How many stairs do you think we’ve walked up so far? I’ll say at least two hundred, maybe even two fifty.”
No words leave your mouth; there’s none in your head either; all you feel is a growing agonising pain in your calves and thighs. Short, tired pants take turns exiting your body, and you glance up at the new set of stairs—hopefully the last.
“Yeah, me too,” he replies, nodding understandingly as he recovers and hands you a bottle of chilled water. “Take your time, this is going to be a long one.”
After about ten minutes, you both set off again. To your utter confusion, he seems so energised, sprouting encouraging comments in the midst of silence. You’re thankful for the cheers of reassurance, but all that’s needed is a good night's rest under those glowing flowers and twinkling fireflies.
You don’t even realise for a good minute that you’ve reached the top. The sweat pooling along your clothes is an indicator of your mood—exhausted and sore all over.
Your name rings over the few other people gathered at the shrine as he eagerly hands you a fortune slip.
“Read it out loud; apparently it’s quite accurate.”
Modest Fortune: Clouds cover half the moon and the fog is thick.
Above you is the mood shrouded by cloud. Ahead of you, everything is engulfed by fog.
Though the way ahead seems unclear at the moment, all will become clear when the time comes.
Take this opportunity to improve yourself while waiting for the clouds to clear.
You’re not sure how to feel.
sumeru, port ormos - zhongli, wriothesley, venti
Port Ormos holds everything.
Marketing secrets, priceless treasures, and an aromatic scent of homemade dishes crafted with exotic spices and herbs, carrying through the refreshing winds of nearby seawater. It’s enticing—everything from the cultural architecture to the species of trees. Despite its prominence throughout Teyvat, it’s not as overcrowded as you originally thought it to be. Of course, it’s still busy, but everyone mostly keeps to themselves as they go on with their usual lives. At every new turn, you find yourself enamoured by the great variety of stores, keen to explore every inch of them, no matter how unrealistic that goal may appear.
Someone who’s probably more excited about being in the Port Ormos was probably the person trailing by your side. Out of the blue, he’d point and mutter an interesting fact, or occasionally go up to the store owner with a handful of questions, as you stood awkwardly behind him. It’s quite fine by you, though; the several friendships he’s established with owners have brought in handy discounts and bonuses.
“We should try out that new waterside restaurant,” he says one evening as you walk hand-in-hand by the docks, admiring the warm tones of a summer sunset blending together over the borders of clouds. “One of the vendors told me they have a special on Sundays.”
“Ah, a special,” you hum, amused. “Is that what caught your eye?”
“Special things always catch my eye,” he replies, a mischievous smile spreading on his face. “Would you like an example before we enter?”
You arrive at the entrance of the restaurant, and like mentioned, it boasts a stunning view of the clear and pristine waters, lapping at the edge.
There are floral garlands with small lights slithering across the corners of the ceilings, lit with blazing lamps, soft crackles of the flame add to the intimate atmosphere.
“If you insist, then sure,” you answer to his previous question. Your attention is more focused on searching the restaurant for a waiter to call.
“I think they might be standing right beside me.”
fontaine, elynas - diluc, alhaitham, kazuha
The cosmos present themselves in the elegant fashion of being subtle yet imperial, with millions of sparkling stars sprinkling all across Fontaine’s heavens, effortlessly illuminating the world underneath.
The pale streaks of moonlight gleam down onto the cascading waters and the array of flowers and shrubs, casting a magical afterglow that creates a bewitching sense of enchantment, like you were an illustration in an ancient storybook lost as the ages gone by.
Have you ever tried to paint at night? To become a midnight muse?
Cutting through the stillness were the delicate strokes of brushes on a canvas. It’s a smooth and soft sound, as the colours glide and complement each other.
You’re sitting opposite each other, one the muse of another.
With an air of finality, he looks up at you with a satisfied expression on his face as he begins to pack away the paintbrushes and palettes. Whether he’s content with his product is unknown. Nothing about his face or mannerisms convey an emotion, unless if you count the usual peaceful visage.
“Are you close to finishing?” he asks politely as he packs away the last of his equipment. “It’s alright if you haven't; those mountains aren’t exactly easy to get in the right shape.”
He’s right; the intricacies of Fontaine’s environment are undeniably striking and tedious to replicate, from the very details of the petals to the shade of grass.
You add the last few finishing touches before giving it one last, fleeting look.
“I’m finished.”
As you mutter those two words, something stirs in the air. The world suddenly feels so vastly beautiful, and this particular point in time feels so perfectly sacred that it couldn’t have been a mere coincidence, and you know it’s not.
You know that this very moment, this very vacation, this very night—you know that he must’ve planned this all along.
It was so sweet.
“Show me yours,” you suggest, crossing one leg over the other. Everything feels a thousand times more divine; everything feels so much more meaningful that it's imbedded into your head, in your guts; there's a doubt on whether it will ever leave.
“What’s got you so happy all of a sudden?” he asks lightheartedly. “Don’t raise your expectations too high; I can’t be an exception for everything.”
You’re just smiling, beaming up at the glittering stars, forever grateful for all the light they’ve bestowed upon you, because it’s been a while since you’ve last told them thank you.
Their splendour radiates down to your face; iridescent shimmers twinkle in the tears unknowingly sliding down your face.
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geralallfandoms · 1 month ago
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hi hi. could i request mark sloan x a reader that survived the plane crash? mark stopped fighting because lexie died, so something with him surviving bc the person he loved did so he has something to fight for would be so good. preferably w a happy ending or fluffy!! other than that up 2 u! love ur writing :)
Another requests yey🕺 omg I love the idea!! Please tell me if you like It , if it's what you expected or if you would like me to change something! I would really love to hear your opinion and if you liked it!!🫂 Tysm, I hope you enjoy it!
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!
°The selfish man°
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TW: Blood, wounds, plane crash, death, shock, spoiler. (I hope I didn't forget anything)
Song I heard while writing this:
It all happened too soon.
From one moment to the next, laughter turned into screams, happiness into fear, tranquility into silence. In less than a few seconds the path of history had completely changed.
Most of those on that plane were unable to understand in time what had happened. In the blink of an eye, nature surrounded them.
After the great sound of the machines, after the plane fell onto the green grass, after it dragged itself along, taking with it trees and everything else in its path, silence reigned again.
While some were still unconscious, others were already aware of their surroundings.
The sky was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. Everything was confusing, and the ringing in your ears prevented you from hearing your surroundings, so you couldn't understand why you were in a forest.
You could see movement at your side, you slowly tilted your head to see how Christina moved things, maybe she was looking for something. You didn't know. You didn't know why you were in the woods, still sitting in an airplane seat.
"Reader! Hey! Hey- can you hear me?! React!" Christina screamed over and over again in your voice. The shock and adrenaline kept her alert and energized, but you couldn't understand her, you couldn't hear her.
After a while, you saw how she simply walked away from you and walked towards Meredith, who was sitting on the floor, a few meters away from where you were.
While everyone else seemed to be 100% sure of where they were or what had happened, you struggled to maintain consciousness.
But the darkness, the whispers telling you to stop fighting, got the better of you, and you decided to relax.
___________________________________________
You wished that the hand touching your shoulder and your face was your mother's, that she had simply come to let you know that breakfast was ready, that in a few minutes they would go to the beach to spend the day.
But when you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw were worried faces. Faces of... your friends?
"Reader...hey hey here I am...do you know who I am? Can you talk?" Dereck asked while holding your face in his hands.
"She's fucking deaf..." Christina said as she pointed to your bloody ears.
You wanted to tell them that you weren't completely deaf, that you could hear them faintly, but that the pain didn't let you think, speak.
Pain?
"We can't get her out of that chair..." The blonde girl said...Meredith?
You tried to understand what they were talking about, and why their faces looked so scared, but you just tried to relax, not panic. Although really, you were terrified of knowing what they were talking about, of looking down at where the pain was coming from.
Tears were pooling in your eyes and all you could think about was Mark. Where was he? What had happened to his seat, which was next to you. What had happened to Lexie, who was in front of you.
Minutes passed, or maybe it was hours? You didn't know. But you were conscious enough to realize that you were still in the airplane seat, with your seatbelt on, that you were in what was left of the plane, that you had an iron rod going through your stomach, that your ears hurt, that you couldn't move or feel your left leg, on the same side that the bar was, you could now tell that night had already fallen, that Meredith, Christina and Derek were near you, with a campfire.
You could now tell that Mark wasn't there. You couldn't see him anywhere.
"Ma-mark..." You said in a whisper, but loud enough for Derek to hear.
"You can't do this to her. You can't do this to your girl. Mark! You have to react. She has a fucking bar running from side to side of her body, she may not feel her legs, but she's awake. She's been awake for four hours, she's fighting. You can't leave her." Derek told Mark, who had refused to leave Lexie alone, who had died in front of him a few minutes ago.
"I can't leave her...Derek please...it's little Lexie..." He said trying not to look where you are.
"I know it's not easy but, fuck... I know you're not going to like it but someone has to tell you. She doesn't feel anything anymore, she doesn't suffer anymore, okay? You can let her rest, we'll give her a burial...Mark, it's Reader. Your Reader. She's suffering there, alone, she doesn't know what's going on, she hasn't spoken in four hours, she's disoriented and in shock...you can't do that to your girl..." Derek said before turning around and walking away.
"I'm here..." Mark said, who upon hearing your voice, quickly stood up and approached you. "My girl...you're okay, I'm with you..."
Mark had a bandage on his arm, and one on his torso. Because after thinking about what Derek had told him, he couldn't help but approach where Reader was. Because when he saw her awake, looking at the sky, calm, fighting to remain conscious, he knew he couldn't do that to her.
He knew he couldn't let himself die. He couldn't leave her alone. He knew she was fighting for him and it would be too selfish of him not to do the same
So he turned around and walked over to the others, confessed the pain in his chest and let them help him. He decided to keep fighting for her.
"A-are yo-you...oka-okay?" It was the first complete sentence you had managed to say all day.
Mark couldn't help but smile as he saw how, even in the condition you were in, you cared more about him than yourself.
"I'm fine honey...don't worry. Don't get stressed okay? I'll stay with you..." He said moving your hair from your face while his other hand slowly took yours.
"Thank you...f-for...ke-keep fighting..." You said, caressing his hand.
Mark was speechless.
"I know...I know something's not right...I-I can see it on your face..." You took a deep breath and continued. "I know you...I know th-that you are tired...but you are still here..." You said between ragged breaths, trying to ignore the pain.
"I will never be able to understand how you manage to guess everything... my sweetness, I am so sorry..." Mark said as he approached you until your foreheads were touching. "I've been selfish...but I won't leave...I promise..."
And Mark kept his promise, because days later, when rescue finally arrived, Mark was still with you, watching over your fever, your breathing, feeling every beat of your heart.
Because even though he had lost little Lexie that day, even though darkness and death had clouded his thoughts, he couldn't abandon you. And he never would again.
He never abandoned you. Not when you had to get hearing aids to hear better, or when you had to go to your therapies to regain mobility in your leg. He was always there.
And would be for the rest of his life.
°
°
°
And that's all! I hope you liked it! Remember that I'm delighted to read your opinions!!🫂
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babushkatty · 11 months ago
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Tranquil SAGAU - Part 6
-> Part 1
-> Part 5
With Dvalin gone, you were left basically homeless. Not that it was much of an issue, not really. The forests had been very kind to you -- you could easily live the life of a hermit if you so wished, without having to worry about food, water, shelter or animal attacks.
But it would also be horribly lonely. No compassionate silence, no background noise and buzz of other people scurrying around and going about their day without minding you, no one to speak to if you ever felt the need to.
You liked being alone, but you were still human and humans were social animals.
Soooooo, you promptly asked Crepus about working in his Winery in exchange for accommodations, because 'one that asks, does not stray'... or something like that anyways. Your sister always made her life that much harder because she outright refused to ask for help even when hopelessly lost or overwhelmed, so there must be something to the saying at least.
"You don't have to work to earn your keep, (Name). I'd be more than happy to house you as my guest for however long you want!" is what Crepus 'Sunshine Personified' Ragnvindr responded with.
Crepus used Puppy Eyes, it was super effective!
You laid defeated, a puddle of cuteness overload once again wishing for sunglasses to protect yourself from the blinding smiles and imaginary wagging tails.
Crepus was horrible for your heart.
Still, you would go insane if left with nothing to do for days at a time, so you went to turn the Ragnvindr library upside down with Crepus' blessing, a bunch of notebooks, a bunch of pens and a delusion that you'd do any actual studying in there.
This was Teyvat, but this wasn't Genshin Impact -- a library wouldn't have interesting lore, it'd have dry history and even drier geography, accompanied by boring economics and even more boring politics (which was a damn shame too, politics were so interesting when written right).
You never quite had a head for those, prefering subjects with more practical applications that could be practiced instead of having to be beaten into your thick skull until you memorized it just long enough to write the exam.
Though for some ungodly reason you still remembered that onions were actually leaves. It was one of the very few things you remembered from school, actually.
Probably the trauma speaking.
Still, you did find some interesting books - a diary speaking of the Decarabian rule, for example.
Today, I don my very own Windblume.
I can only hope Lord Decarabian never learns of its' significance.
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
The winds are particularly harsh today.
I am afraid, but I smile and play my lyre as if nothing were happening at all, like I always do.
Sometimes, I forget if what I do is to reasure the people or to delude myself that everything is as it should be...
Then again, does it matter when the result remains the same?
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
The people are growing restless.
Their yearning for freedom gave birth to a small wind spirit that seems fond of my playing. It is an adorable being, even if it has yet to communicate with us.
It remind me of a newborn puppy.
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
The people are planning a rebellion.
I want to help, but how can I? I am no soldier, my strength lays with the pen and the lyre, not with the sword.
Ragnvindr told me there was no need for more warriors, that I was doing enough by keeping the morale up with my performances... I am hesistant to believe him.
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
The little spirit has spoken for the first time today.
It said that it knew the song I was playing, despite it being a new piece I was in the midst of creating, and sang along to lyrics I had yet to write.
It was strange, but it made me happy nonetheless.
Perhaps I was strange too, for feeling that way.
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
You had a suspicion on who the author of the diary was by that point. Maybe Crepus would be open to giving this diary to Venti, instead of it gathering dust on the shelf?
Idly, you wondered how it had survived so long, but figured Ragnvindr and his descendants took good care of it.
I met Ragnvindr today.
Something compelled me to share my worries with him, even though I knew he had enough weight on his shoulders and I ought not to add more.
"If you cannot trust in yourself, then trust in me and my trust in you instead" he told me.
It helped.
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
Meetings regarding the rebellion are more and more frequent. Ragnvindr, alongside a man named Amos, have convinced the Gunnhildr clan to participate against all odds.
I can understand their hesitance. Should we fail to kill Lord Decarabian, their legacy would be no more.
I admire their bravery.
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
The wind has long since realized change is imminent, even when Lord Decarabian himself has not - the little spirit said so.
King of Gales indeed, even the wind has rebelled against him.
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
Ragnvindr speaks of a bad premonition.
In truth, my heart is uneasy as well, but how can I share those feelings with anyone but myself? It is not the time to bother others with my issues -- it is time to reassure everyone, to rouse their spirit and not to let fear take root even as they stand against a God. It is my duty as a bard and as a fellow rebel.
The Windblume feels particularly heavy as I write this.
I fear I will not live to see tomorrow's sunset, but I fear for my dearest friends and for Mondstadt even more.
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
My little spirit friend is still without a name.
I know it does not bother them, they are the wind itself after all, but I would still like to give them a name others can remember them by.
A name that they can remember me by once I pass on, selfish as it is to bind an immortal to a memory.
But I am selfish, even if Ragnvindr may see me as a paragon of virtue. I am a human and to be human is to be flawed. I am not ashamed of it, even if I often feel guilty for it.
Perhaps it will be the very last thing I achieve in this life of mine.
It is hard to name them.
I've thought of many names up until now.
Caelus. Liberius. Aella. Calliope. Achill. Carmine. Hilarius. Hanne. Zephyrinus. Dieter. Sascha. Scilla. Paulus. Notus. Veronica. Agna. Vergil.
Those are just a few of the ones I discarded.
None fit.
I can only hope the right name reveals itself when it is time.
.  . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
That was the last entry.
You closed the diary and carefully put it aside.
☆(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ* ✨ Author Note✨
It was not supposed to be mostly nameless bard POV via old diary.
It really wasn't.
Mans literally kidnapped the chapter entirely against my will while I was half asleep yesterday and attempting to write at nearly midnight and I was powerless to stop it, on god.
But hey, at least we got potential Venti bonding set up for the future?
I was planning for more fluff, but I also have no outline for this, so my chapters have a chance of getting kidnapped at any time.
✨BY THE WAY!!!!✨
The charm of spontaneous writing, I guess?
If you have something you want to happen - for example we're in the library right now, so maybe you want a book about a specific tidbit to appear - do let me know, maybe I'll write it in!
I had 2 tests and 1 retake yesterday and holy shit i got through all of them and tomorrow is last day of uni then it's ✨HOLIDAYS✨
✨Taglist✨
@game-savvy @chaoticfivesworld @mmeatt @avalordream @ymechi @andromeda-gay @naynayaa @undecidingfate @thedevioussmirk @tumb3ld0wn @balaur-bondoc @yi-chii @yarabutterfly @nervouseaglelover @vexingpraedyth @indelible-colouring-markers @whitefantasy21-blog @kapitankarate
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cherrrydragon · 4 months ago
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➤ silent dreaming
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← back to main masterlist
read it on ao3
SUMMARY ↳ Link is silent in all that he does, including his dreams. For Link, it is simply how it is, and must be. He is the chosen hero, and thus he serves the Master Sword and Goddess Hylia. It is absolute. He must protect everyone, because he is the only one who can. It must be lonely. His unwavering dedication is something you admire deeply, but you also worry about the weight he carries. pairing: any!link x reader (but i picture botw/totk) warnings: none :D tags/notes: gender not specified reader, fluff, romantic undertones, sweet, just kind of dreaming of the future, selectively mute link wc: 799
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Link is ever so faithful to what matters.
You see it in the way he fights. Every swing of his sword is precise and intentional. Every twang of his bowstring reverberates with promise. Every step he takes into battle speaks of strength. All to keep everyone safe.
You see it now, as he walks alongside you. His eyes diligently roam your surroundings. His demeanor seems relaxed, but you know better. His hands occasionally twitch at the smallest of sounds. His ears wiggle, listening for any sign of danger. His vigilance is a constant, comforting presence. Even in the quiet moments, he remains ever alert, ensuring your safety above all else.
The path ahead is serene, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. The forest around you is alive with the sounds of nature—rustling leaves, distant bird calls, the gentle murmur of a nearby stream.
“Do you ever get tired?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. Link spares you a small glance to show you he’s listening. His eyebrows raise slightly.
“Of always being on guard,” you clarify. "Of always having to protect everyone."
He looks back ahead. You think he seems content to ignore your silly question, but then he looks back at you and shakes his head.
For Link, it is simply how it is, and must be. He is the chosen hero, and thus he serves the Master Sword and Goddess Hylia. It is absolute. He must protect everyone, because he is the only one who can.
It must be lonely. His unwavering dedication is something you admire deeply, but you also worry about the weight he carries.
“I hear Lurelin is nice this time of year,” you muse. “Perfect for a nice break.”
Link's lips twitch into a small smile, and he shrugs. He lifts a hand, making a motion that speaks volumes. After.
You nod, understanding. The mission always comes first. It's a fundamental part of who he is.
The path begins to wind down towards a small clearing, where the stream you heard earlier meanders through the forest. The sight is tranquil, a small haven amidst the wilderness. Link gestures towards a fallen log, indicating it as a good place to rest. You both sit down, the quiet of the forest enveloping you. He removes his gear, setting his sword and shield within easy reach, always prepared.
For a moment, you sit in companionable silence, listening to the sounds of nature. The worries of the world seem to fade away, replaced by the simple peace of the moment.
“I wish you would think about yourself more,” you admit softly. “Hyrule knows you as a hero, but I know you as more than that. You’re a person too, with your own thoughts and desires.”
Link's eyes meet yours, and there's a softness there that you rarely see. He reaches out, placing a hand on yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. It's his way of saying he understands, that he appreciates your words.
The sun dips lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the clearing. The world around you seems to hold its breath, as if honoring this rare moment of stillness. Link's gaze returns to the horizon, his eyes reflecting the warm hues of the setting sun. The tranquility of the moment seems to seep into him, if only for a short while. You watch as his shoulders relax, just a fraction, and his vigilance eases slightly.
"You know," you say softly, not wanting to break the spell of the moment, "I've always wondered what you dream about. When the battles are over, and the land is at peace, what does Link want?"
He tilts his head, contemplating your question. It's a rare thing for him to think about his own desires, so accustomed he is to putting the needs of others before his own.
Then, he points a single finger at you. His answer is clear.
Your heart swells in adoration for him. A glimpse into a part of him that he seldom shares, a dream of a simpler life, far from the burdens of his destiny fills your mind. You can almost picture it: the two of you living quietly in that seaside village, days filled with gentle waves and warm sun, nights spent under a blanket of stars.
“Then let’s make that happen,” you whisper, determination in your voice. “When this is all over, let’s go somewhere. Just the two of us.”
Link’s eyes soften even further, and he nods. He doesn’t need to speak; his eyes convey his gratitude and agreement. You both sit in silence for a while longer, soaking in the tranquility of the forest. The birds continue their songs, the stream bubbles merrily, and for once, the world feels peaceful.
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notes: wanted this to be a lengthier oneshot, but i said all i needed to
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yenonnoff · 6 months ago
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ೃ⁀➷ the wanderer's love | (night)
synopsis: grieving comes differently to the wanderer—especially after the painful death of his significant other.
content: established relationship, angst, gn!reader dies haha; kazuha's part is a parallel version to this <3
note: this is 100% solely dedicated to @kqbukimono (may aka the best person ever aka loml) !!! i wrote this completely knowing that scara's ur fav and that u hate angst ᵔᴗᵔ this is for all the times that you annoyed me by being better at games
the wanderer's love | from beginning to end (kazuha)
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your death had left him in despair. in devastation—in crushing anguish. 
there you were: cold and motionless, your life cruelly taken away far too soon. the gaping wound on your chest; the dried up blood coating your figure; and your spiritless eyes had left you unrecognizable.
there he was: looming over your deceased body with a soul-crushing expression. he didn’t want to believe that it was you. he didn’t want to admit that you were gone and that he was too late. in that moment, uncontrollable emotions swallowed him and he sought to avenge your death. it barely took a minute before he was by your side again. 
he stayed to wipe any dirt or blood off of your beautiful face. he stayed until he had the faintest will to stand—until he could no longer weep by your lifeless body. why did you leave him? why wasn’t he able to protect you? 
first, he cursed at the world and the men that took your life. then, he cursed at himself for failing you. 
for months after your burial the wanderer continued to mourn. he continued to grieve because he loved you. he couldn’t move on because a part of him was forever missing. 
no matter where he went, no matter what time of day it was, you were on his mind. even the simplest activity—strolling around sumeru’s enchanting forests—was agonizing. he couldn’t take another step without the smell of fresh dew and rain reminding him of you. 
it was worse at night when he couldn’t sleep. he would stargaze on top of canopies and wish desperately that you were still alive—still cheerful and warm with your head resting on his shoulder. he missed you. he missed your glory and tranquility; he missed the smiles that he would gladly go into battle for. 
nahida and the traveler had taught him the importance of realization and forgiveness. you had taught him the art of love and care. 
it was a slow process, however. the wanderer was accustomed to surrounding himself with walls and barriers. he was used to following his own rules, not charmed one bit by your strange way of thinking. (“strange,” because the wanderer never cared enough to see other people’s point of views). 
when he fell in love with you, it was like a chain reaction. everything became better: the wanderer—cynical and rude and previously wounded—grew to like himself whenever he was with you. “strange” turned into tolerable and then comforting. for the first time in a while, he was glad to exist. he was grateful to have met you, and now he was alone. 
you had taught him how to love, but not how to love again. so while you slumbered for eternity, your lover was awake with nothing but the memories of your warm hands in his. how peaceful it would be, he thought, to sleep with you by his side. 
his soul and his restless nights will continue to yearn for you. he’ll continue to reminisce about your time together until the memories wither away and lose themselves. the wanderer’s love will continue to roam aimlessly until it finds you again.
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unconventional-lawnchair · 1 month ago
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A Second Chance pt.4 {Blurb}
Poly!Marauders+Lily x Fem!Reader - Zombie Apocalypse Au
Summary: Avoiding spoilers
Cw; Guns, death, zombie apoc typical violence)
a/n- I restarted this three times
Wc-2464
Amazing People- @mooonyxoxo @sippinpeachtea @amethyistheart @zjasminelouvre3 @idonotknowenglish @le-clair-de-lune @shylahstarzz @losttoliterature
Masterlist
The path to the stream was familiar, each step resonating with memories of your own journeys back and forth. The subtle breeze welcomed you back as you tried to alcamate to your new normal. The wind smelt fresh, like weeds and wet rocks, the song birds were singing despite how late it was, and you could hear the sounds of creatures around you simply living. It had been a while since you considered yourself, and other survivors for that matter, on the same level as the common rat and squirrels. 
Yet, the presence of Sirius didn't bring you the same comforts as the common chipmunk. The forest, usually a haven of tranquility, felt different today, alive with an undercurrent of tension. It didn't help that you still felt the hair on your neck rise with discomfort. Still unable to shake the feeling that there was more than just Sirius’s eyes on you.
Sirius, despite your warnings and slight nagging, stayed casual, his eyes wandering the surroundings with a curious hum that shouldn't have been annoying as it was. He seemed less affected by the pressing silence and more intent on making conversation.
"So, {Y/N}." Sirius began, trying to cut through the heavy quiet. "How long did you say you've been out here alone?"
You sighed inwardly, feeling the weight of the question. Sirius's voice, though casual, seemed to echo in the stillness of the forest. You wished you could just ignore him. You wanted to. 
After what happened to Peter you didn't have time to stop and think about how unfair it was for you to blame him solely for it; so you stayed high strung. You just wanted to make it back to Hermione.
Everything within the last 24 hours was too much and in truth, you just wanted a break. So the conversation wasn't horrible.
"About a month since my camp was attacked.” You mumbled, keeping your tone even. You didn't want to delve too deeply into the memories of that night, but it was impossible to ignore the shadow it cast over you. Your heart ached helplessly at the memory of some of their faces. Seeing flashes of Regulus’s bloodied face would haunt you for days.
"That's rough." Sirius responded, his voice softer this time. He seemed to recognize the tone you were taking. “Listen-”
“I don't need your apologies.” You quickly cut him off and he scoffed a bit.
“Just listen.” He rubbed his face with both hands before he pulled his hair back. “I didn't truly know what was going to happen. If I did, I would of said something, I swear it.”
“Nothing you can do about it now.” You dismissed him quickly and he huffed in disbelief.
“We are in the same boat. We are the same.” He challenged and that's when you stopped, looking around you as that feeling you got at the front of the house only worsened. No longer just paranoia, true fear rocked through you.
“Sirius, stop talking.” You hissed at him and he shook his head.
“No! I get it, I fucked up. But we are the same. We would both do anything to protect our people, I can see that in you. I think you can tell you're a hell of a lot like me too.” He insisted and you continued to shush him.
Your head snapping around to look behind Sirius when you heard a twig snap behind him. Not a normal one, like one you'd soon hear scurrying after as a rodent scared itself. No. It was something else.
“What?” Sirius huffed before he turned to look. 
Everything happened in a matter of seconds. You felt a metal rod against your throat. It was a gun. A gun someone was using to force you back against them, threatening to choke you if you squirmed too much.
You looked up and watched as another person shot out from behind you.
“Sirius!” 
And like that, the figure hit him hard with the butt of his gun, making him fall to the ground.
“Fuck! {Y/N}!”
The forest seemed to close in around you as the situation escalated, the once familiar path now a stage for a dangerous confrontation. Your heart pounded in your chest, and every instinct screamed for you to fight back, but the cold metal against your throat held you in place, a chilling reminder of the peril you were in. You didn't notice how the figures seemed to tense up at your name. Like they knew who you were.
Sirius lay on the ground, dazed but conscious. He groaned, trying to shake off the blow, but the figure who had hit him stood menacingly over him, gun still drawn.
"Don't move.” The voice behind you commanded, harsh and rather loud in your ear. Instead of listening to reason, you began to squirm, the gun tightening on your neck. It was a man’s voice, edged with authority and a hint of desperation. You could feel his breath on your neck, the tension in his grip. You had been in this position before, you absolutely hated it. “Knock it off!” The voice snapped at you, tightening the gun just enough to earn a desperate gasp from you. "We don't want to hurt you, but we will if we have to."
You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. "What do you want from us?"
“Us?” He chuckled. “Just you and that other lady back at the house is all. And your kids.” He chuckled and your face paled. Glancing down you felt your stomach turn helplessly, they had the mark of a death eater. 
By the time you noticed Sirius seemed to as well, trying to get to his feet, only to be kicked back down by the other figure. 
The Death Eaters, in their twisted minds, sought out 'religious renewal.’ 
One of those things they preached about was sanctuary for women.
No one was stupid enough to truly believe that they had their best interests at heart, certainly not you. Especially when they started hosting public ‘purity unions’ for anyone brave enough to travel to their base.
Again, a trick you hadn't fallen for. The simple idea that you were able to avoid them this long and was about to be dragged there now of all times was terrifying.
Your mind raced, desperate for a way out. The weight of the gun and the cold threat in the man's voice made it clear that any rash movement could be your last. But the mention of Hermione and the others ignited a fierce determination within you. That meant they knew where the house was. They had been watching. They waited until you and Sirius were gone. You couldn't let them fall into the hands of these monsters.
Sirius, despite being kicked down, managed to lock eyes with you. There was a silent understanding between you two. You had to act, and you had to act now.
"Listen.” You pleaded, swallowing thick, trying to buy some time. "We don’t want trouble. We’re just trying to survive. Just like you."
"Talk?" The man behind you spat, his breath hot against your neck. You wanted to hurl. "There's nothing to talk about. You’re coming with us, and that's final."
Sirius, now on his knees, glanced at you, licking the blood from his lip. You could see the gears turning in his head, formulating a plan. You just needed to give him a bit more time.
Time. You could buy him time. You prayed to god he was trustworthy enough for this.
"Please.” You whispered, your voice desperate. "We have supplies. Medicines. Food. We can share it with you. But if you take us by force, you’ll get nothing because the rest of our group will hide or destroy it."
The man only laughed at you, something that filled you with dread. You didn't have many bargaining chips to begin with. It was a slim window, but it was all you needed. "Is that so?" He taunted, his grip tightening ever so slightly.
“Good thing we have some people there already, yeah?” He breathed heavy on your neck and as if to punctuate his statement you heard a gunshot coming from the farm house.
You gave a sob, choked up and quite as you began to hear babies crying. Faint, desperate, and so fucking far away. The men laughed at you, the one over Sirius raising his gun to Sirius’s head.
Sirius took the opportunity. With a sudden burst of movement, he lunged forward, grabbing the barrel of the gun aimed at him and twisting it with all his strength. The attacker, caught off guard, stumbled, giving Sirius the opening he needed. He delivered a swift kick to the man's knee, causing him to collapse in pain.
Taking advantage of the chaos, you threw your head back hard, connecting with the face of the man holding you. He grunted in pain, loosening his grip just enough for you to twist out of his hold. You dropped to the ground, rolling away as he swung the butt of his gun at where your head had been moments before.
"Run!" Sirius shouted, his voice raw with urgency. He managed to wrench the gun from his attacker, firing a wild shot into the air. The deafening crack echoed through the forest, startling birds into flight and momentarily disorienting the Death Eaters. 
You didn't need to be told twice. Pushing off the ground, you scrambled to your feet and took off running, your heart pounding in your ears. You could hear Sirius struggling behind you, but you couldn't think about that. Your first priority had to be Hermione and little Harry.
The forest blurred around you as you sprinted, branches whipping at your face and arms. Your mind raced with frantic thoughts, but you forced yourself to focus on the path ahead. You had to get to the farmhouse, had to make sure everyone was okay. 
When you made it there the door was wide open, and there was a dead body in the grass. You slowed to a stop, giving a shaky sigh of relief when you didn't recognize the figure.
You looked him over and cursed when you didn't see a gun, but the pleading from inside hit your ears hard.
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what lay ahead. 
Creeping closer, you tried to make as little noise as possible. The pleading voices grew clearer, more desperate, and you could hear Hermione's little cries among them. Your heart clenched with both fear and determination.
Peering through a broken window, you saw a scene that made your blood run cold. Two Death Eaters stood inside, their guns drawn, while Lily clutched little Harry and Hermione protectively. The children were huddled in her arms, their faces bright red with tears and snot.
James stood between them, and Remus was sitting on the seat you had left him in, unable to move with a gun to the back of his neck. You could barely make out James pleading.
You took another deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm despite the terror gripping you. Your mind raced, trying to formulate a plan. You needed a distraction, something to draw their attention away just long enough to give them a chance.
Your eyes scanned the room through the broken window, taking in every detail. James was trying to reason with the Death Eaters, his voice steady despite the tension. He didn't seem to just back down and roll over like he did with you.
Remus, though immobilized, seemed to be quietly assessing the situation, his eyes flickering between the intruders and the small clan. Then, his eyes flickered to the window. Both of your eyes locked in a second, yet he remained calm and simply averted his gaze.
Remus never failed to impress you.
You took another deep breath, feeling a surge of resolve. His calm reaction gave you the reassurance that he trusted you to act. You couldn't let them down.
Your eyes darted around, finally resting on the pile of firewood. If you could create a loud enough distraction, it might give James and Remus the opening they needed. You picked up a handful of small rocks from the ground, weighing them in your hand. This had to work.
With a steadying breath, you hurled the rocks at the pile of firewood through the broken window. The clattering noise was loud and sudden, echoing through the farmhouse. The Death Eaters whipped around, guns raised, their attention momentarily diverted.
James took the opportunity, lunging forward to tackle one of the Death Eaters, and you rushed the back door to come help.
Only, you rushed in to watch Remus, moving with calm and swift determination, stand and snag the gun from the stunned intruder. In the same motion, put a bullet through his head. Without flinching, he then turned and fired at James’s tussle buddy with that same overwhelming calm.
You stopped dead in your tracks, the back door creaking slightly as you pushed it open. The scene made you take a full pause, you had always assumed Remus was the softest of them all but his actions were precise, calculated. Like he had done them a million times before. The Death Eater's body slumped to the ground, and James quickly disarmed the other, pinning him down.
The sudden silence was deafening, punctuated only by the ragged breathing of everyone in the room. Hermione and Harry were still crying, clinging and shaking as Lily clutched them tightly, their faces bright red and distressed. James stood over the fallen Death Eater, his chest heaving with exertion.
Remus, still holding the gun, looked up at you with a grim expression. "Are you alright?" He asked, his voice steady despite the tension.
You nodded, swallowing hard. "We need to get out of here.”
“Damn right.” James hissed and stood, turning to face you before furrowing his brow. “Where's Sirius?”
You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could, you heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching from behind you. You turned to see Sirius emerging from the trees, disheveled but alive. Relief washed over you as he jogged up, his eyes scanning the scene inside the farmhouse.
"I'm here," Sirius said, slightly out of breath. "But we need to move, now. More of them could be on the way."
James nodded, looking at the rest of the group. "Right, we can't stay here any longer. Grab whatever you can carry. We need to find a safer place."
Lily, still holding onto Harry and Hermione, stood up, her face set with determination. "We need to get the children to safety first. Then we can figure out our next move."
Remus, still holding the gun, moved to help gather things, before you finally managed to croak out.
“Car. I have a car. It's shitty, probably can only take us a few miles but-”
"That'll have to do." Sirius interrupted, his voice steady despite the chaos. "We just need to get out of here. We can worry about the rest later."
The second you were all finished packing you left. Didn't take longer than ten minutes.
You turned quickly, leading the way through the back door and out into the cold air. The forest felt different now, less like the home you made of it and more like a looming threat. The shadows seemed to stretch toward you, and the distant sound of rustling leaves began to sound like whispers of danger, warning you of the trouble that might still be lurking just beyond the trees. Still, you suppressed your emotions. The growing fear at knowing you had been being watched, the feeling of the gun to your neck, the feel of his foul breath on your skin-
“{Y/N}?” Lily’s voice called out to you, almost grounding you to the moment. You gave a small steady breath, smiling and reaching out for Hermione. 
Lily gave you a worried look before you took her and looked down at the girl in your arms. She had cried herself to sleep, her little body curled against you, her face streaked with tears. You gently brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, wishing you could wipe away all the fear and confusion swirling in this world around you.
“We’ll get through this.” You whispered softly, though you weren’t sure if you were trying to comfort her or yourself. Your heart was racing, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, but you forced yourself to focus. 
Sirius, James, and Remus were already moving ahead, keeping an eye on the surroundings. You could see the tension in their shoulders, the way they scanned the trees as if expecting danger to pop out again. Lily moved that much closer to you, but you all stayed silent.
“Over here.” You called to the boys as you guys made it to the barn that was hardly standing. You gestured to it and Sirius walked over to open the swinging doors, grimacing at the rusty old bucket of a truck.
“Is it quiet?” He turned to you and you scoffed.
“Not at all. But it's fast as hell.” You confirmed before you walked over. James opened the back seat and helped Remus into it. He then lifted Lily up with Harry next, turning to you. He held out his hand and you hesitated for a moment. 
Turning to Sirius and noticing his cut lip was still bleeding, he had a bad bruise forming on his head and a few scratches from the tussle. 
James looked between you two before he tilted his head to the passenger seat before he got in the back. You took a deep breath and climbed into the car, still securing Hermione as you shifted your weapons to the side. Opening the dash to toss Sirius the keys.
“Are we ready?” He looked back at the group, the back seat particularly squished with everything- and everyone. 
There was a thick silence before Sirius huffed. “Let's get the fuck out of here.”
~~~
Back in the once still forest you left behind, none of you were aware of a shadow slothing his way through the tree line.
One of the men Sirius had managed to get down wasn't quite dead yet. After fighting off the zombified version of his partner, he watched you and the rest of the group drive off. 
In a car that looked painfully familiar. 
The walk home for him was hell, his wounds were still fresh and bleeding, each step sending waves of pain through his body. He gritted his teeth against the agony, his mind racing with thoughts of vengeance and the need for retribution. 
The memories of the skirmish replayed vividly in his mind- Sirius’s sudden burst of movement, the way you had fought back with a ferocity that surprised him. He had underestimated you, and that was a mistake he wouldn't repeat. But at least he could come back with something. Having found the elusive {Y/N}.
When he finally made it back to the mansion, the sun had rose behind him. Stumbling in, half bloodied and bordering on unconscious.
He pushed through the heavy door, the creaking wood protesting against his weight. The moment he stepped inside, the air shifted, the atmosphere thick with tension and the lingering scent of fear. It was a stark contrast to the familiar, almost cozy feel of the mansion he had once known. His old home. 
“Where the hell have you been?” A voice barked from the shadows. It was Lucius Malfoy, leaning casually against a wall, his eyes narrowing as he took in the state of the man before him. “Father Tom isn't happy. You’re supposed to report back! What happened out there?”
Avery winced, clutching his side where a deep gash throbbed, blood seeping through his fingers. “We... we encountered them. They were not alone.” He forced out, each word a struggle. “That girl at the barn down the road. She had a group with her.”
Lucius's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing further as he processed the information. "A girl? With a group? This is unacceptable, Avery. You let them escape? You know what Father Tom will do if he finds out about this."
Avery struggled to hold himself upright, the pain coursing through his body threatening to overwhelm him. "I... I tried to capture them. But they fought back- hard. Sirius Black was there, and he wasn't alone. They’ve become more organized, more dangerous. He was with that James Potter and his goons.”
Lucius took a step closer, his condescending demeanor shifting to one of intense interest. “Sirius Black? So, the traitor has resurfaced. And you say this girl, this survivor, is connected to him?” He paused, a calculating look crossing his face. “What if she’s more than just another survivor?”
Before Avery could respond, a third figure emerged from the shadows- a tall man with dark hair and sharp features that seemed to cut through the dim light of the mansion. 
It was Barty Crouch Jr., a (now) high-ranking member of the Death Eaters, his presence commanding and terrifying, considering all he's already done for the organization. He stepped forward, a smirk playing on his lips as he assessed Avery’s battered state.
“Sounds like the perfect gift for Tom, doesn't it? After such a momentous mistake. Oh Avery, run in with a bunch of kids? You get sadder every time I see you.” He taunted, crossing his arms. “Did you really think you could take on Black and a bunch of survivors? How cute.” His smirk quickly turned deadly, relishing in the familiar deranged anger they had grown to know from him. “Where is he?”
Avery winced at Barty's taunt, his frustration boiling beneath the surface. “I'm sure you heard as you were eavesdropping, Crouch.” He snapped, “We were caught off guard. Black put a fucking bullet in me and that damn girl broke my nose, least you could do is go fetch Narcissa.”
Barty raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen. You’re wounded and still trying to bark orders? I’d be careful with that tone, Avery. You’re lucky to be alive after failing so spectacularly." He leaned against the staircase, smirking at Lucius. “You heard the boy. Go fetch your wife. Though, if it were me, I'd let the bastard bleed. I bet it will feel wonderful compared to what Tom will do to him.”
“That wasn't all.” Avery finally piped up as he leaned back against the marble wall, looking up at the ceiling as he panted. “I got her name.”
Lucius's interest piqued as he leaned closer, curiosity mingling with irritation. “What do you mean you got her name? Who is she?”
Avery took a moment to catch his breath, the pain in his side sharpening with every second. “She’s {Y/N}. The girl from the camp. She had the truck we left behind, it's her. I'm certain of it.”
Barty’s expression suddenly darkened and his face fell hard. “What?” He whispered.
Lucius gave a weak scoff. “You may have just saved your own ass with that, Avery.”
As the atmosphere in the room thickened with tension, the heavy door creaked open from down the hall. 
First out was Narcissa, who gawked at the boys in front of her before hurrying over to help Avery. “What are you guys doing? He's bleeding.” She spoke in a firm tone.
Behinder her, there was the soft sound of a baby’s cry and Evan Rosier stepped into the light, followed closely by Regulus Black. Regulus holding up a little blonde kid on his hip.
Evan's demeanor was lax, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of a threat, while Regulus’s face bore a grimace of pain, a bandage wrapped around his head where a nasty gash marred his brow. Still, the kid seemed unbothered by his angry expression. Evan had to charge himself forward to stop Barty from taking down the bleeding bastard.
“You better not of fucking touched her!” Barty shouted as he tried to jump past Evan who eventually had to tackle him against the wall. Holding his shoulders and looking at Barty with a hard look. 
“The hell mate!? What's gotten into you!?” Evan shouted and Barty was panting, glaring at Avery. 
“Bastard attacked {Y/N}! Got that fucking shiner to prove it!” He shouted and Avery huffed.
“I did my job!” Avery snapped back.
Regulus took a step forward, his eyes wide with shock as he absorbed the situation. His face switched from his hard scowl to soft and almost vulnerable at your name. “Wait, wait. {Y/N}? Our {Y/N}?” His voice wavered slightly, and there was an urgency in his tone that caught everyone’s attention. 
Avery's eyes narrowed, irritation flickering on his face. “Yes. That’s what I’ve been saying. She was with Sirius Black and they’ve formed some sort of group. She fought back, fucked me up, but she's alive.”
Regulus’s expression darkened, a mix of concern and anger. She was with his brother? His brother was still alive? That meant the Order could get back together. 
But mostly, that meant you were okay. The men he sent out looking, the days he was losing hope, you were out there. “But she was here? Down the street the whole time?”
“What the fuck have you idiots been doing? We send you to get one girl and you come back empty handed and four men down!” Barty snapped at them from where Evan had him pinned. 
“An entire month and she was right there.” Regulus snapped as Narcissa led Avery to the back room as he began to stumble, the adrenaline wearing off.
The three watched Avery retreat to the back room, Lucius gathering Draco up as he passed Regulus. 
The three boys exchanged looks between each other. There was a long silence before Evan finally let go of Barty.
“I'll kill him.” Barty mumbled and Evan gave him a toothy smirk.
“Leave it. She's alive mate.” 
“Alive and with Black.” Barty snapped and rubbed his face. “Who's to say what's going on? What's happening?”
“We'll find her.” Regulus affirmed. The two looked at the shorter boy who was staring at the door. 
“We’ll just send someone more competent.” He mumbled and both boys turned to look at Even.
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nemo-in-wonderland · 2 months ago
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🍃 ASRA SILVERBOUGH | CIRCLE OF DREAMS DRUID | HALF-DROW ELF🍂
Name: Asra Silverbough
Nickname: Rara, Spiderling, little Owlbear (by her father)
Title: The Sentinel of the Sylvan Glade
Alias: None
Age: 199 Years Old (She was born in 1294 DR-Year of the Deep Moon )
Birthplace: High Forest, in Dark Maiden's Leap, the shrine consacrated to Eilistraee. Her mother prayed for the Goddess’ protection while birthing the Asra, and it was granted. Hometown: Emerald Grove, Sword Coast, Western Heartlands
Current Residence: After spending most of her life in the Emerald Grove with her father, she returned to the High Forest, her father's family's home, and joined the Druids of Tall Trees
Alignment: Neutral Good
Race: Elf (Drow/Wood Elf)
Class: Ranger/Druid - Circle of Dreams
Profession/job: During her formative years spent at the Emerald Grove, she was an Druid Initiate under her father's guidance, working with him in trying to preserve the Balance of Nature. However, she founds that curing ailments and working with medical herbs was not her vocation, and she would rather spend her days up in the trees, flying branch to branch while scouting the areas around the Grove. Eventually, she picked up the role of Sentinel for the Grove, and lead a small squad of Rangers to protect the Grove and its inhabitants. Visual particular traits: Due to having inherited her mother's and father's height, Asra is considered extremely tall for an elf, especially one of Drow descent. Her own physical constitution also favours her father's, making Asra stands out among her peers. Scent: White Moss and Oak Resin. Occasionally, especially when wearing her shawl, she is surrounded by an intense scent of Oud that can lingers for hours. She has no idea how that is possible, but she suspects the shawl the scent is magically weaved within the fabric of the shawl, considering its arcane properties.
Colours/symbols associated with: The Colours of the Forest during Autumn; The Owl that flies silently in the night; the Stag that protect the Forest and all that lives within it. Languages: Common, Elven, Wild Elvish, Druidic, Undercommon Accent?: Asra’s Elvish has a distinct “High Forest” tune to it (irl it would be similar to Scottish), and it would carry over even when she speaks the Common Language. Tropes they embody: “Action Girl”, “Amazonian Beauty”, “Badass Adorable”, “Be Careful What You Wish For”, “Big Sister Instinct”, “Determinator”, “Daddy’s Girl”, “Death Glare”, “Determinator”, “Fish out of Water”, “Hot-Blooded”,“Former Teen Rebel”, “Friends To All Living Things”, “Hidden Depths”,“Long-Range Fighter", “Made Of Iron”, “My God What Have I Done?”,”Parental Abandonment”, “Savvy Guy, Energetic Girl”, “Statuesque Stunner” “Strong Family Resemblance”, “Stronger Than They Look”,” It Runs In The Family”, “Tranquil Fury”, “Odd Friendship”, “Weakness Turns Her On”,
Personality: Determinate, Curious, Kind, Boisterous, Funny, Overprotective, Resilient, Resourceful, Intuitive, Brave, Loyal, Honest, Empathetic, Determined, Confident, Strong-Willed, Protective, Compassionate, Caring, Independent, Fearless, Vengenful, Short-Tempered, Impulsive, Rebellious, Hot-Headed, Proud, Stubborn, Overconfident.
Detailed Backstory: Asra was the biological daughter of Halsin Silverbough. The story surrounding her birth was complicated, and much like the relationship between her parents, it was shrouded in a silence that Halsin was rarely -if at all - willing to break. This constant secrecy amplified the emptiness left by her mother, and it would become, later in life, a void for Asra to fill with the knowledge as to why she was left behind. However, despite this, she had a childhood of relative happiness and carefree ease, surrounded as she was by the love and affection that the rest of the Silverbough Clan was willing to provide to the their youngest. Her early years were spent listening to the Elders’ stories and her father’s own teaching on Druidic knowledge, which continued well into her teen years. But while she enjoyed listening, Asra was an active elf with an even more active mind, and she enjoyed experiencing life way more than just learning from books or midnight stories.
So, whenever she could, she would sneak away from Grandma Silverbough to stay with her father and take care of the ailing animals under his care or, when that was not possible, she would climb high up the trees of the High Forest and spend time observing the owls that slept up in the higher branches. For reason she could never explain, she enjoyed being as close to the sky as possible, something that would later influence into choosing the Owl as animal to shape-shift into. Oftentimes, she would go so far up in the branches that her father Halsin could not retrieve her and it would fall on Quirora Evenfall, the Head Sentinel of the Rangers of High Forest to retrieve her and bring her back safe and sound in her father’s arms.
Quirora was fond of Asra and her persistency, and she actually liked the child’s spunky personality and her stubbornness in wanting to learn as much as she could; so, when, as a teen, she would start following her and rangers during their round of surveillance around the High Forest borders, she would allow Asra to follow by, on the condition that she was to be as silent as a flying owl - a task that would prove a challenge for Asra, considering her curious personality and her never-ending need to question everything, but a challenge she would tackle with patience and effort.
The rangers took some convincing in having an untrained half-drow following them around, but would eventually change their mind and actually find entertainment in dusting off ancient elven knowledge to pass down to the young girl, such as scouting, how to visualize potential dangers, following trails, how to trap a fey being and stop them from teleporting etc. Quirora and her squad were also the reason why Asra became set on learning how to use bow and arrows and would later become her weapons of choice.
Thriving under the care and devotion that her father, Quirora and the Rangers put into her upbringing, Asra would prove to be a brilliant young elf, with keen eyes that noticed everything and a boisterous and commanding personality- she would often take the lead while playing with other elves, and if an injustice were to occur, she was not afraid to brawl even with older kids to defend her friends.
But even as a teenager first and then as a young adult, Asra was restless, as in body so in spirit and with constant thoughts of her missing mother always in the back of her mind, something she often vented about with Quirora, when her father would not open up to her. Quirora would actually take Asra’s troubles to heart, because she could see how much this was weighting on her young soul, and being a follower of Sehanine Moonbow, the Elven Goddess of Dream, she spoke with Halsin about this and the possibility of at least ease Asra’s inquietude through dreamscaping.
Halsin was aware of the turmoil in his daughter’s heart, just as he was aware of how dangerous would it be for them both if Asra was ever to get close to the truth, and that weighted on his shoulders: on one side, he wanted for Asra to find closure; on the other, he didn’t want her to see put in harm’s way.
Eventually, he would agree with Quirora to initiate her to the ways of Sehanine.
So, it was finally under Quirora’s guidance that Asra discovered the ability of dreaming granted by Elven Goddess to her followers and how, through dreaming, there was the possibility of unveiling and discovering much that was hidden to the conscious eyes.
Asra put all her efforts into learning how to sleep and dreamscape, following the path of the Circle of the Dreams as a Druid, and started travelling through worlds guided by the pulsing necklace around her neck - one of the two mementos left behind by her mother- finally excited at the prospect of finding some answers to all the questions that were crowding her mind day and night.
What she didn’t realize when she decided to follow the path of the Circle of Dreams and therefore accepting, she made herself vulnerable to the Feywild influence and its inhabitants, for better or worse, and that inexperience in looking and manipulating others’ dreams had a great cost. Infact, while she actually managed to met her dearest friends through her dreams - Hiraeth of the Seelie Court - she also inadvertently caught the attention of another powerful being while roaming through his dreams, a being that would become both a fear and another obsession of hers: The Stag King
Most Treasured Possession: Asra is not one to keep material belonging in high regards; however, she has three items that are immensely dear to her: the magical shawl her father had used for her ever since she was a baby, a shawl that seemed to protect her against the sun and provide her with warmth whenever she needs, and that never seemed to tear and wear, despite being over 200 years old; a shards of never melting ice that she keeps tied around her neck, and that seems to emit a strange feeble pulsing sound; and lastly, a dagger in cold iron that Hiraeth gave her to protect herself against the Stag King, if the need were ever to rise.
Sexual and/or romantic situation: Much like her father, Asra is polyamorous, following her heart as nature’s intended. However, after the events of Elturel and the arrival of the tieflings refugees at the Emerald Grove, Boisterous Asra found a kindred soul in Rolan, whom she cares about dearly, despite the constant bickering and his ego being bigger than anything she had ever experienced. However, ever since she started exploring the Dreamscape, in hope to find her mother there, she had been haunted by the Stag King, who seemed to have a keen interest in her. If that interest is reciprocated by Asra, even she is not entirely sure.
Favourite place in Faerûn: Her most favourite place is most certainly the High Forest, where she spent her entire childhood, surrounded by her father’s family. Ever since only her and Halsin were all that remained of their family, she makes a point to try, at least once a year, to travel to Grandfather Tree and give them her respects. She missed them a lot, but she bears it for her father’s sake. Other than that, she enjoys being in the woodlands, surrounded by trees, but she never disdain spending time with Hiraeth in the Dreamscape, the only place where they can actually meet and catch up with what they have been doing. What makes them happiest: Sitting by the campfire at night and listening to her father’s old stories about High Forest and the time their family lived there. She particularly loves to listen to her father’s childhood stories, and about all the time he got himself in trouble for not listening to their elders (something she would jokingly use against him when he admonishes her for not listening to his advices). The few times that her father would open up about her mother and give her some crumbs of information about her were also moments of rare happiness she held dear within her heart. What makes them angriest: Discrimination of any kind. Seeing how she would be a victim of it due to her Drow heritage, she was absolutely furious in the way the Emerald Grove Druids were acting with the Tieflings Refugees from Elturiel, to the point that it came to a physical fight between herself and Kagha. She had to restrain herself when she suggested to kill Arabella for stealing the Idol of Silvanus, but she never came closer to breaking someone’s face like she did in that moment. When her father Halsin banished her from the Grove, she felt a triumphant spite she hadn’t felt in years. What makes them laugh: Who, rather than what. But the one that makes her laugh the most is Azriel and her flamboyant way of always narrating her adventures and her sentimental woes. Asra cannot help but laughing at all the hilarious - and embarassing - situations her parents and siblings put her through.
Biggest secret: Despite her father strongly advising not to look for her mother, due to how dangerous that would be for both of them, Asra has been secretly trying to look for her ever since she decided to partake in the teachings of the Circles of Dreams. One night, while scouring the Dreamscape during a particularly deep meditation, she bumped into something she never bumped before, and felt something against her soul, like the soft brushing of a pristine heron’s feather, but before she could investigate it any further, she got spooked by an apparition of hellfire and the strong smell of brimstones. It made her wake up scared out of her wits, to the point that Halsin as well had to intervene to calm her down and help her anchor her thoughts. What she saw would keep her away from the Dreamscape for sometimes, and this caused for Stag King to become irritated and prompted him to seek her out in the Material Plane - adding to Asra's troubles. However, stubborn as she was and despite the scare, the fact that she found finally *something* prompted Asra to strengthened her resolve to find her mother. Obsession: Asra is not entirely different from either her parents, and when she sets her mind on something, she will see it through, no matter what. Two thoughts are ever present in her mind, never leaving her alone: finding out why the Stag King seems so keen on wanting her attention, and finding her mother. Asra loves her father Halsin dearly, but she knows that his reluctancy in talking about her mother and the strange letter that she left when she abandoned them hide way more than what it’s written in between those words.
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*rubs hands together*
SO.
I AM FINALLY DONE WITH ASRA'S PROFILE, AND OMG I SUPER INTRIGUED BY IT ALL TBH. I have kinda reconnected something from what I wrote a few months back, because I actually managed to make it work as I wanted, timeline-wise (and Jacob's existence was kinda the reason I was able to retcon and have Asra's story evolve this way).👀👀👀
I am starting to interwoven all my OCs' stories, in one way or the other, and dearest Asra here is fascinating me with how connected she is to the others👀👀👀.
Well, I hope you will like this and the infographics I did for her!!
Now I am working on Hiraeth's one, and hopefully they will be ready soon!
--Nemo
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template by @arcandoria; abridged profile template by @lairofsentinel)
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creepychan08 · 2 years ago
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Yandere Thranduil x Reader
It wasn't supposed to end up like this. You heart's desire becoming a nightmare.
And now there's no way home.
"Thranduil, you can't keep me here. Sooner or later I must return home." You once again plead your case as Thranduil frowned and hold both your hands protectively. But lately it feels like his gentle touches were slowly turning like handcuffs chaining you to him, unable to escape his grasp.
"Meleth nin (My love) please, this is your home. Have I not treated you well? Tell me what more can I do to make you stay by my side?" 
His grip tightened, not in a hurtful way, but just enough to prove his desperation for your continued presence in his kingdom.
"Its not that at all. You have been truly kind to me and for that I am eternally grateful. But I have my family waiting for me. I miss them Thranduil. Terribly." Your eyes glistened with unshed tears and his gaze softened, drawing you closer in an embrace. You welcomed the comfort he provided and lean your head almost close to his chest, the part you can only reach due to your unfortunate stature.
"Have you found some other way to return to your world?"
"How could I when you took away that book and refused to let me out of your kingdom?" The bitter tone of your voice breaks the moment of tranquility when you remembered it was him who didn't allow you to leave and travel to Rivendell to seek help from Gandalf.
Though your tone was bitter, you felt him relaxed more against your embrace as if relieved.
"You know there are threats coming from the orcs resurfacing in the forest. I can't very well allow my beloved to travel and place yourself in harm's way. No, you will stay here with me." His fingers slowly brush down your hair as you feel your anger boil inside.
"I will not allow you to keep me in here like a trophy! No more! I will go out and discover the way back- back to my real home- if you won't help me." 
Thranduil grit his teeth in frustration as he roughly tilt your head up to look at him. His eyes fierce and burning as it stare straight to your soul and your composure faltered, realizing how large he is compared to you and the power he has to crush you any time.
"I will say it again. You won't leave my side forever. You are mine as I am yours."
A whimper unconsciously left your lips as you began to fear and tremble before him. The dominance he was radiating made you feel weak, unable to do anything but submit to his will.
Upon hearing that helpless sound, his seething expression was immediately wiped off, dark glint in his eyes returning to a soft crystal blue filled with worry and regret when he behold the terror he accidentally inflicted on his beloved.
"My starlight, I am so sorry. Please forgive this ignorant King from his careless actions. I did not mean to make you afraid of me. That was the last thing I ever wanted." The sorrow in his voice made you want to reach out and comfort him.
You remembered how it all started. 
*Flashback*
Being a fan of The Hobbit trilogy movie, you were immediately captivated by the ElvenKing, Thranduil. The daily occurence in your life involves imagining random scenarios and plots with him and deeply wishing to somehow be transported in Middle Earth to meet him. And one day it did come true.
You have no idea of your last memory of how you came to this new world. Whether you were killed by a truck driver and get isekai'd, or if you were just dreaming or worse case in a coma, you have no idea how you are actually faring in the real world. But there was a portal which immediately closed as soon as your feet step into the grounds of the forest of Mirkwood.
Obviously you were taken by the patrolling group of elves and presented to Thranduil. It was not love at sight as you were already crushing on him way back on Earth but it sure did made your heart jumped with excitement as you eagerly and honestly answered each one of his questions.
You were detained in the dungeons for some time as the ElvenKing pondered on your statement to see if you were just lying to get yourself out of this mess. Perhaps it is dark magic then to how you were transported to this world? Are you a threat? But somewhere deep down in his cold heart, he could feel the sincerity radiating off you. And there was something else too- something foreign but pleasant that he felt when he first talked with you.
After careful consideration, Thranduil finally released you from prison and transferred you to a well-furnished room. He was still unsure of what to do with you. Strangely enough, the thought of assigning you to be a servant, a maid, cook, or a warrior didn't sit well with him so he decided to treat you as a guest and get to know you better.
As he did, he finds himself slowly falling for you. Unlike the other elleths (women elves), you possess kindness and genuine concern for other people. You interacted with his guards and other servants with much respect and he saw them slowly warming up to you. Everyday, he would look forward to seeing you first thing in the morning as your smile immediately brightens his day. And during the evening after he finish his work early, he would asks you to walk with him in the gardens.
It was no surprise when he ends up falling head over heels in love. He started properly courting you and sending expensive gifts everyday.
"You know you don't have to send me all these stuff, Thranduil. Its too expensive"
"Nonsense. I am the King and I can give you everything you deserve and more. Unless.. do you not like them? I can have another jewel be made to fit your taste-"
"No! No need, I really like this one. Thank you, Thranduil" You smiled at him gratefully and the corner of his lips lifted up as he stare at you.
"Anything for you, my starlight" He draws his arms open and gently pulled you to his embrace, his robe covering your form as you lean you head on his chest.
You wished those moments would have lasted more.
Thranduil was a gentle lover. Always kind. Always patient. Always caring towards you. He never once raised his voice at you and you greatly appreciated it. But as the days go by, you noticed him getting more possessive and obsessive over you.
"We were just talking! He is your guard long before I came here and he is just my friend" You defended yourself as Thranduil warned you against talking to one of his royal guards.
"I do not like the way he looks at you, meleth nin. You are mine, don't forget that. He should know his place."
"Everyone knows we are together so stop being suspicious of other elves! I am not fond of the way you're acting right now. I will leave you to cool your head first."
As you turn to leave, his arms reach out to wrap around your waist as he hug you from behind. His head bowed low so as to breath in the scent of your hair to calm him down.
"No, don't leave please. I am sorry, my love. I am just afraid of losing you."
You sighed, feeling your heart soften. You turn to face him again and saw the insecurities and doubt swirling in his eyes.
"Now what brought my King such worries? Haven't I told you I only have eyes for you? That my heart beats only for you?" You cup his cheek as he closed his eyes and lean towards your touch.
"I know and I believe you. Sometimes, I just can't help but fear that you'll find someone better than me. I can't live without you, YN"
"You'll always have me Thranduil. My heart belongs only to you." You reassured, hugging him tightly to show your devotion.
Maybe you shouldn't have promised that as months passed and you soon discover a way to open the portal again back to your real world while browsing the library. But you don't understand some of the text written as it was in Elvish language and from what you can read, it also needs the spells only casted by wizards.
"Thranduil, I finally found a way to return back to my world!" You excitedly said as you barge to his throne room, while carrying the book.
His eyes widened and he immediately walked down the stairs of his throne towards you.
"What did you say, my love?" The cutting edge of his tone failed to make its way to your ears as you were excitedly thinking of how soon you can probably go home once this works.
"I said I found a way to open the portal again to my world! But I need some help with the Elvish language and Gandalf as well to complete the steps here." You showed him the book and the pages where it was located.
He was quiet for a while and politely asked for the book. As you gave it to him, he immediately throws it to the ground and asked his servant to seal it in the forbidden section of the library.
"No! Why did you do that?!" You screamed, feeling betrayed by his action. You tried to get back the book but he tightly hold you against him before carrying you towards his bedroom as you continue to resist.
Once he locked the door, he put you down on his bed as you glare at him.
"How could you do that? That was my only way home!"
 His eyes hardened, frown marring his features.
"Exactly. I won't have you leaving me alone here, YN. You promised that I'll always have you, didn't you? And I promised to be yours forever"
You frozed as you remember the promise you said to him months ago. You meant it. You did. But that was before you learned that there is still a way back to your real world after giving up for so long. However, you did promised him and you can't go back on your word.
Bowing your head in shame, you nodded. "Yes, I did. I remember my oath that day, Thranduil." A feeling of frustration and mixed feelings made its way to your heart.
"You know I love you. I do. I just miss my family so much. I wonder what they are doing in my world. I wonder if they are grieving over me or still patiently hoping for my return. Am I selfish, my love?" You looked up at him as tears stream down your cheeks.
Thranduil felt his heart clench as he saw your sorrow. He can't stand to see the anguish in your eyes as it overflows with your tears. He gathered you in his arms and let you cry against his shoulders.
"I'm here, meleth nin. I'm here. Please don't cry." He whispered comforting words and before long, you felt drowsy and fall asleep in his hold.
Thranduil carefully put you in the bed and covered you with blanket. He placed a kiss on your forehead before leaving the room.
From that day on, he decreed an order that you are not allowed to leave his kingdom and that anyone who try to help you escape will be executed.
*End of Flashback*
"You've changed Thranduil" You gaze at him with such disappointment that he falters for a moment.
"No, please don't say that meleth nin. Don't look at me like that. I love you. I can't let you out of my grasp. I can't let you go. Ever." He pulled you closer and tilted your chin so you were looking straight at him.
The sight made you tremble. His eyes which were once full of adoration and pure love for you were now filled with dark obsession.
"Resist me no more, my starlight. Stay here. I will take care of you. I will love and worship you forever." 
He back you slowly into the bed and you didn't notice until you trip and lay sprawled against his bedsheets in a vulnerable state.
You tried to get up but he lightly pushed you down so he towers over you.
"No, no, I have to return home. I need to see my family again. I can still come back here Thranduil. I won't leave you forever." You tried to reassure your lover.
Shadows loomed in his face and when he finally look at you, something dark and dangerous radiated from his being.
You gasped, crawling away from him towards the center of the bed as he followed after you. You grab his pillow to defend yourself.
"Okay- stop. Don't get any closer, Thranduil. You're scaring me."
The blank look in his eyes shifted to that of a predator finally catching its prey as he reach you. A smile of dark insanity painted on his lips. He take hold of the pillow separating you two and throws it to the side.
"You know, I've always wanted to marry you, my starlight. In our culture there are two ways one can get married. First is by traditional exchange of vows and the other-" He paused, pushing you down once more as he hovered above you. "-is by being one in body, two souls bonded forever. If I may be honest, I much prefer the latter."
His fingers slowly slid down your body, touch as light as feather as it passes through your neck, the valley of your breast, down to your stomach and settling on your lower abdomen.
Your breath hitched as you watch him, goosebumps rising on you skin as you feel your heart thumping loudly.
"We will be one tonight, my love. And I will plant my seed inside your fertile womb. Since you miss your family so much, we will have one of our own- a much bigger family. We will have a dozen or more elflings running around the kingdom. And you will soon forget that silly ambition in your mind. I told you before. You won't leave me. Ever. For you are mine and I am yours."
With that he sealed his promise with a passionate kiss as he consume your being, leaving you breathless and gasping for more.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I didn't expect this oneshot to be longer than what I originally planned lol. Anyway, I've been obsessing over Thranduil for weeks now and I thought if he'd be the one going yandere for me, I would immediately give in 😂
But yeah unfortunately he's just a fictional character sooo! Anyway thanks for reading up this far.
Hope you have a great day and stay safe guys! :)))
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asa-do-your-thing · 7 months ago
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Among the ferns
18+ MINORS DNI Halsin x F!Reader 2.6k Warnings: SMUT, cunnilingus, p in v sex, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, size kink, fluffy smut as always no proofreading no nothing this is for you bby :3 @foxyanon
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As the night grew colder, your companions retired to bed one by one. All except for Halsin, who had made a promise to stay up with you. He didn't mind avoiding Lae'zel's loud snoring; he preferred talking with you anyways, and sleep wasn't coming easy for him this night.
“Tav, may I ask you something?” he asked gently, looking down at you with a small smile. The full moon illuminated the small clearing in the woods where you had set up camp and a soft breeze played with the undergrowth.
The fire that had once crackled and danced with life was now reduced to glowing embers, casting a warm, orange glow on Halsin's face. His eyes twinkled with curiosity and earnest sincerity, making them as captivating as the night sky above.
"Well, Halsin," you responded, cradling your cup of warm cider between your hands. "You can ask me anything." Your tone was light, playful even. This was not the first intimate conversation you’ve had with him, nor would it be the last.
His brow furrowed slightly under his tousled locks. "It's just..." he hesitated, looking slightly unsure of how to phrase what was on his mind.
You chuckled lightly to yourself, finding his uncharacteristic shyness amusing considering that he was normally so confident and outspoken. With his muscled frame and towering height, he was often mistaken for a brute by those unacquainted with him. But you knew better than most that there was a lot more to him than met the eye.
"Why have you never spoken about your romantic partners before?" he finally asked, voice barely above a whisper. A breeze rustled through the leaves overhead, adding a symphony of soft whispers to the stillness of the night.
A hush fell over you both as you considered his question. The forest around you teemed with life – crickets chirping in the underbrush, an owl hooting in the distance – yet all sound seemed distant as you pondered your answer.
"Truthfully?" You start, shifting your gaze from the dying fire up into the night sky, blushing gently. "I suppose that is because I've never… had a romantic partner before.”
The revelation hung in the air, ungraspable as moonlight. Halsin took a moment to truly absorb your words. His head tilted slightly, the glow of curiosity was now replaced with surprise. "You mean…" he stumbled over his words, a rare occurrence for him indeed, "You've never…?" He didn't need to spell it out; his meaning was clear.
You found yourself shaking your head in confirmation, your cheeks heating up. The confession had left you feeling lighter somehow, liberated even.
"I know it's unusual," you admitted, your fingers idly tracing the edge of your cider cup. The warm ceramic felt grounding against your skin amidst the otherwise ethereal atmosphere of the night.
Halsin, still overwhelmed by the revelation, defaulted to silence as he stared at you with intense concentration, as if trying to understand an enigma. His gaze seemed to penetrate beyond your skin through to the very essence of who you were. It was a gaze that could make anyone feel seen for perhaps the first time in their life.
The silence lingered but didn't feel oppressive; instead, it held a certain comforting intimacy that carried an odd tranquillity with it. Perhaps it was due to understanding that sometimes words were superfluous and that silence spoke volumes more than any spoken language ever could.
Finally, as if breaking free from a trance, Halsin shifted his gaze away from yours and stared into the almost extinguished fire. His fingers absent-mindedly picked up a stick and prodded at the glowing coals – it seemed like he wished to say something, but held himself back out of respect.
“Halsin, I… Look, it’s not like I have no desire for… it, it’s just that no-one ever, uh… invited me for…,” you stammered out and looked at him, trying to gauge his reaction.
"I see," he finally answered, his voice just above a whisper and filled with an understanding that you hadn't expected. He looked back at you, the light from the dying fire dancing in his eyes. “Well, under any other circumstance…” he trailed off, looking at you with a softness you hadn’t seen before.
His gaze held yours as he continued, “I would have invited you for...” he paused as if searching for the right words, “a quick, intimate encounter.”
Your cheeks heated up further at his admission. The mere thought of it sent a jolt through your body, making your heart flutter.
"But," he quickly added, seeing your reaction, "given what you've revealed... I think I would be entirely satisfied sharing just an innocent cuddle." His words settled over your ears like a soothing balm, calming your anxious thoughts.
It was a simple offer — one of warmth and companionship without any expectation or pressure.
You felt a burst of adoration and gratitude for him. It was as if Halsin was offering to meet you at your pace, to hold space for you in a world that often demanded too much too soon. He understood, perhaps better than anyone else ever could.
“Halsin…” You couldn’t help the soft smile that graced your lips. The tension that had been building dissipated into the cool night air.
He smiled back at you then – not his usual mischievous grin but something far more genuine and tender.
Together, you sat in silence once more, the crackling embers providing a warm glow to your faces.
“Actually, I… uhm… wouldyouliketoteachme?”, you pressed out and immediately looked away, afraid that he would reject you.
“I mean, everyone’s asleep, you know this forest well, you are a gentle man and as far as I know you you are a very good teacher and I’ve liked you for so long and you’re good looking…,” you rambled, sure that your cheeks couldn’t heat up even more than they did in that moment.
Halsin blinked, taken aback by your sudden outburst. Then he laughed, a rich and warm sound that echoed softly in the quiet of the night. “Easy,” he said, his voice gentle yet laced with amusement, effectively cutting through your rambling. His gaze softened even further as he reached over and took your hand into his.
"Thank you for the compliments," he said, his thumb gently caressing your knuckles. His touch felt like a spark in the darkness, both startling and comforting at the same time. "And for trusting me enough to ask."
There was an earnest sincerity in his eyes that made you feel seen – really seen – for perhaps the first time in your life. It was as if he truly understood the depth of what you’d asked him. That he grasped how much courage it must have taken you to let down your walls and bare a part of yourself you’d kept hidden away for so long.
The silence that followed was pregnant with anticipation, each moment stretching on as you waited with bated breath for his response.
“Alright,” Halsin finally said, breaking the silence. His tone was somber now, filled with a level of gravity that reflected just how seriously he was taking your request.
“If this is what you want... If it’s something that feels right for you…” He paused to give you one last chance to change your mind. However, seeing no hesitation in your eyes, he simply nodded and continued, “Then yes, I’d be honored.”
A sense of relief washed over you at his words. It was as if a weight had been lifted off your chest - a wide smile spread over your cheeks and you hugged him, losing yourself in his warmth and scent.
Gently, he cradled your head against his shoulder, the rhythm of his heart a soothing lullaby as you relished in this newfound intimacy. It wasn't long before he scooped you up into his arms, rising from the bed of moss and ferns to carry you further into the forest. Your heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness as pine needles rustled beneath his feet, creating a symphony with the nocturnal creatures singing their songs.
The forest that had seemed so intimidating before now felt like a safe sanctuary under Halsin's guidance. He deftly navigated through the complex labyrinth of towering trees, guiding you through dappled moonlight that slipped through the rustling canopy above.
Eventually, he came to halt in a hidden glade awash with soft silver light. It was an enchanting spectacle - fireflies danced in the air while a gentle brook murmured in the distance, providing a harmonious backdrop to this still moment. Here, beneath the vast expanse of stars, Halsin laid you down gently on another bed made of moss and ferns.
Halsin hesitated for just a moment before beginning to remove his clothing, piece by piece. His movements were unhurried and deliberate, affording you enough time to adjust to each new revelation of skin and muscle underneath. He was beautiful in all senses of the word – not just physically but in his vulnerability too.
Once he stood undressed before you, it was his turn to ask for permission. His voice was low as he asked, "May I?" His respect for your comfort evident in that simple question.
“Y-yes, you may,” you muttered and gasped as you felt his hands working on the laces of your dress and the feeling of his lips on the nape of your neck. “You may do anything you wish, as long as you… are gentle,” you whispered, drawing in a big breath as he bared your breasts, gently tracing his hands over the gentle curves.
"Yes," he murmured against your skin, "always gentle." His voice was a soothing rumble that reverberated through you, making your heart flutter in response. His hands were warm against your cool skin, his touch so tender and careful it nearly brought tears to your eyes.
He guided you to recline on the mossy bed, his strong hands supporting your back as you did so. The moss was surprisingly soft underneath you, nature's own cushioned bedding. Halsin continued to worship your body with his hands and mouth, his every touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You gasped as he traced kisses down your neck, over the valley between your breasts, and then lower still.
You gasped and blushed at the sensation and bit your lip as you felt his big finger gently slipping between your wet folds. Gods, it felt so good, and the longer you looked at him pleasuring you through half-closed eyes, you felt your inner fire burning hotter and hotter. Everything about him drove you wild. From the way he loomed over you, to his strong, yet gentle hold on you, not to mention the way he caressed you - it drove you to the brink of insanity.
“Let go, my love… moan for me, my sweet thing… let nature hear your call…,” he muttered, alternating between rubbing your pearl, licking and kissing it gently.
Gasping, you struggled to breathe as the pleasure coursed through you like wildfire. You'd never felt anything like this, and it was all too much and not nearly enough at the same time. His touch was electric, igniting every nerve ending in your body and sending sparks of ecstasy ricocheting along your spine. Moans tumbled unbidden from your lips, mingling with the chorus of the forest around you.
"Halsin," you whimpered, arching your back off the cushiony moss beneath you. "Oh gods, Halsin... it feels... it feels..." Words failed to do justice to the sensations he evoked within you.
He chuckled against your damp core, sending a shiver cascading down your spine. "That's it, darling. Let it out. I want to hear every little sound that escapes those pretty lips of yours."
Emboldened by his words, you did just that - moaning louder as he continued his ministrations. His tongue flicked and swirled over your most sensitive spots, teasing and taunting you until you thought you might combust from the aching need building within. Every stroke of his tongue or caress of his fingers seemed to send you higher and higher still, until you were certain your heart would beat right out of your chest.
"Halsin... Halsin... I... I'm..." You panted, but could not finish your sentence, as a huge wave of pleasure crashed over you. You cried out in unadulterated bliss as your body shuddered and arched beneath his touch. Halsin continued to caress and kiss you, milking every last shudder and gasp from your body until at last, your cries subsided into satisfied pants.
“You did perfect. Now… are you ready for me? Or should I let you rest?”, he asked sweetly, pulling himself out from between your thighs and up to you.
It felt like you were dreaming - and could do nothing else but to shake your head and hold your chest, gazing wantonly up at him. “No, no rest, I… I need you, I want you, but… are you sure that it is going to fit?”
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down your spine. “Oh, my love, I've imagined this moment for so long... and I assure you, I will fit. Just…” He leaned in to replace his words with a fiery kiss, his tongue teasing yours as he gently slipped his hardness between your wet folds.
It felt like he was right - it stung for a second, but it was a perfect fit, and he filled you up completely as he entered you inch by inch, stretching you to the limit, even though he was still holding back from plunging completely into you. "Feel how perfect we fit together?", he whispered into your ear, gently kissing the top of your head.
"Y-yes," you panted, arching your hips against his. "Halsin... please... don't stop." You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him onward.
He obliged, slowly and steadily, surging into your depths as if he had all the time in the world. The sensation was unlike anything you'd ever experienced - a delicious friction of stretching and heat that bordered on pain but was oh so exquisite. His every movement sent waves of pleasure crashing through you anew, his length hitting places inside you that had never known such stimulation before.
As he rocked his hips against yours, a primal, animalistic growl escaped his lips, and his grip on your hips tightened just enough to leave marks. You didn't mind, though - if anything, it spurred you on further. Your hands tangled in the moss beneath you, nails clawing at the ground as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.
"You feel so good... so tight... around me," Halsin groaned between gasps, the pace of his thrusts increasing marginally with each breathy moan that escaped your lips. "I... I've wanted this... for so long... You, bouncing under me… in the woods…"
The way he spoke to you - so guttural and raw - was enough to send you over the edge a second time. Your climax washed over you like a tidal wave, hot and consuming, leaving you reeling in its wake. "Halsin!" You cried out his name as your body clenched around him, contracting around his hardness and milking him for all he was worth.
"Gods...," he panted, his thrusts growing erratic as he too lost control. "I... I can't... much more... So tight…"
With one final, earth-shattering thrust, he stilled inside you, his essence welcomed within your depths as you both shuddered through the climax together. Halsin collapsed atop you, his breathing ragged in your ear.
"That…" He finally managed between breaths. "Was… better… than I ever imagined."
You smiled up at him, your insides still convulsing and hugged him tight, not minding that he squished you under his large, shuddering body. “You’re… you’re a good teacher. The best.”
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