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sxcret-garden · 3 months

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Mingi ღ NSFW Alphabet [M]

ღ Ateez - NSFW Alphabets ღ Ateez Mingi x gn!reader ღ words: ~3.1k ღ genre: smut ღ warnings: none

A = Aftercare (what he’s like after sex)

Will do his best to do aftercare for you, but I think it’ll usually be you taking care of him afterwards. He tends to really wear himself out, especially when you’re going at it for a longer time. However, he’ll also usually be in a very cuddly mood afterwards, so after you’ve gotten yourselves some water and cleaned yourselves up, he will welcome you into his arms and hold you tight. Places soft kisses in any spots where he might’ve been rough with you, and will let his fingertips draw mindless patterns all over you. To be honest he could stay like this for hours, but eventually he will either allow the two of you to drift off to sleep, or let yourselves get on with your days.

B = Body part (his favorite body part of his partner)

The little details! He strikes me as someone who will be fascinated by your shape and definitely takes his time to worship you too, so in general he makes sure you can feel how much he loves your body overall. But he will pay especially much attention to moles, birthmarks, scars, and the likes. Likes to study the placement of each as his hands and lips are mapping out your body, and eventually he will remember their exact spots even when you’re fully dressed.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum)

Really doesn’t mind much where he cums, and strikes me as the type where things might get a little messy. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a favourite place to cum. Loves it when you suck him off and let him cum in your mouth, will visibly gulp at the sight if you swallow. Idk what it is, but he just can’t look away from the image of you taking his load at once - especially if there’s some stains on your lips or chin afterwards.

D = Dirty secret (a dirty secret or secret desire of his)

A secret desire that keeps popping up in his head is the thought of you sucking him off with his or your friends in the other room. Something about having to keep quiet and at the same time having to hurry so you won’t get caught is just very hot to him, but this is probably something that’s more of a fantasy he has, and not something he absolutely wants to turn into a reality. If it happens - great! If not - also fine by him.

E = Experience (how experienced is he?)

This is a tough one because the answer could literally be anything. What I think is that he’s slow at gathering experience first, and probably the type to exclusively sleep with a partner, because he really needs a certain level of trust to have sex with someone. But I also think he’s actually pretty dirty deep down, and so once he starts getting some experience, he’ll quickly gain some more. So I’d say he has his fair share of experience!

F = Favorite position

You on top of him! Strikes me as an ass-enjoyer, so depending on his mood he wants you simply riding him while facing him, or facing away in reverse cowgirl. Loves it when you’re on top of him and you set the pace while he can marvel at the sight in front of him and let his hands wander your body. What he also likes about this position is that it’s easy for him to control how much power you have, and if he feels like it he’ll simply grab onto your hips to guide you into the rhythm he wants.

G = Goofy (is he more serious in the moment? is he humorous?)

Shy during his first sexual encounters with a new partner, so he will feel thankful if they’re a light-hearted person and don’t take things too seriously. If you laugh, he will laugh along! But after getting familiar with each other his burning passion will take over and there often won’t be much time to laugh in between fucking each other real good.

H = Headspace (how much does he think about it/you during the day? how elaborate are his fantasies?)

Whether he wants it or not, sexual thoughts will randomly pop up in his head throughout the day. Usually it really is just a thought that floats by and is soon forgotten, but especially when he’s just started getting intimate with someone these thoughts can be rather distracting. Has pretty elaborate fantasies when he gets off by himself, but otherwise keeps it at a level that won’t give him a visible boner in public dksjfklasdjfa

I = Intimacy (how passionate or romantic is he?)

He can be very romantic!! He’s definitely the type of person to want to just make sweet love to his partner every now and then, and though he can be a bit clumsy, the way he touches you and talks to you during will make your heart soar. He’s so sweet and will take his time with you, exploring your body as if it was the first time, and watching as he has his breath taken away by how beautiful he thinks you are makes you fall in love with him all over again. However, I’m convinced there’s also a not so soft side to him, and when that comes out his touches feel like fire burning your skin. He’s full of need at times like these, in a way where he manages to sweep you off your feet effortlessly.

J = Jack off (how does he masturbate and how often?)

Likes to deliberately take time out of his days to get off. Like he will pick a day and then plan for a few hours of “me-time” in the evening and get really into the mood as he lets his hands wander and take care of himself. Might turn on some music and let his mind get to work, might watch porn to get him going, but his favourite thing to accompany his masturbation sessions are voice mails by his partner. Loves simply hearing your voice moaning into his ears as you’re getting off yourself, but he’d also be very curious to try guided masturbation if you’re open to that!

K = Kink (one of his kinks)

I’m gonna go nice and simple with this and say biting! He undoubtedly has a bit of a thing for pain (or maybe more than a bit, who knows…) and so you sinking your teeth into his skin just gets him going. Loves the feeling of the pain mixing in with the pleasure and goes absolutely crazy if you bite down real hard as your own pleasure is overwhelming you. He will let out a pained noise, but don’t be mistaken - he’s totally into this and he could cum from that alone. Will wear your bite marks like a medal and as proof of just how good he can make you feel, but at the same time they serve as a reminder of how good you can make him feel too. He’s more than happy to return the favour if you’re into that too, though he tends to be more careful with his partner than the other way around.

L = Location (favorite places to do it)

The comfort of his or your home is still his nr 1 spot to do it. It’s just where he feels safest to be completely himself and to lose himself in the act, but if the situation is dire he’ll also opt for a less private space. Semi-public is totally okay for him sometimes, and especially when he’s really horny he doesn’t worry about being caught too much. But overall I’d say at home, in the comfort of your or his bedroom is his best choice.

M = Motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)

He’s so easily turned on (and has also become pretty good at hiding it if the time or place aren’t appropriate) that at times it’s enough for him to catch a glimpse of you and his mind will already spew ideas at him about what he wants to do with you. While having sex what especially motivates him to keep going are definitely your moans, but aside from what I wrote about biting earlier, it’s also the way you cling to him desperately, let your nails run down his bare back, etcetc. But it’s also your praises, when you tell him what a good boy he is for you, and sometimes also your teasing, prompting him to do more, to impress you, to earn your touch.

N = No (something he wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Stuff like humiliation and degradation are a bit difficult for him. Being on the receiving end is okay for him, so long as his partner doesn’t take it too far. Will definitely get off on you degrading him a bit at the right time, but if you do it too much this will quickly make him actually feel bad. However, he would never do that to you, he just can’t bring himself to. He can tease you sometimes, that much is fine, but he can’t bring himself to humiliate or degrade his partner. Maybe if you’re super into it he’ll eventually give it a try, but it’s still not his favourite thing to do to you ever.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves both, but prefers receiving head over giving. Definitely the type to grab your hair (if possible) and to control the pace as he fucks your mouth and gets really into it to the point you might feel the need to slow him down a bit. He likes it when things get messy, so if you give him permission he will sometimes pull out just in time to cum all over your face.

Though he prefers receiving, he certainly gets very into it when it’s his turn to do oral on you. Once he gets a literal taste of you he could spend hours just giving you head, and you bet that even if he wasn’t so skilled at first, he’ll know just how to sweep you off your feet in no time.

P = Pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He definitely has his slow and sensual moments where he’s having sex with you less as a way to chase pleasure, and more as a means to make you feel just how much he loves you. However, I think usually when he’s the one setting the pace he’d be impatient and his desire for you would translate into touches on the rougher side. Whether that’s manhandling you a bit and grabbing you with a bit too much force, or if it’s him deliberately sinking his nails into your flesh, he’s INTENSE to say the least. Will fuck you especially rough in the chase of his own orgasm, and if you let him know it’s something that you enjoy as well, he’ll definitely stop holding back completely.

Q = Quickie (his opinions on quickies?)

Quickies are way too short for him, but that doesn’t mean he can resist the temptation. Especially when you two are out somewhere and you keep teasing each other and riling each other up, unnoticed by everyone else in the room, it’s very likely that he will eventually grab you by the wrist and drag you out of there and into a room where you can be by yourselves. The need and the urgency behind the way he gets your clothes out of the way just enough for him to slip inside you is already driving you crazy, and with how desperately he’s racing towards his release while doing everything he can think of to have you reach your high just as fast, there’s really no way either of you is going to last long.

R = Risk (does he like to experiment or take risks?)

He’s a bit hesitant with introducing new things to the bedroom, both from his side and if his partner brings up something that they want to try, especially if it’s something he’s not super familiar with. However, after talking it through he’s very likely to be willing to at least try, and a lot of the time when you have an idea on what you could both like, he ends up very much enjoying it.

He definitely is a risk-taker as in… not always thinking of wearing a condom. He might sulk a bit if you tell him you’re definitely not having unprotected sex with him, but he’ll understand jfkdsfjlajksflsa but also the sight of his cum dripping out of you is just too damn hot to him, and he may or may not feel the need to give you yet another orgasm as your and his taste are mixing on his tongue…

S = Stamina (how long does he last?)

When he really gets into it, he cums fairly quickly, but he recovers just as fast. Will definitely be able to manage his energies to last several rounds, the problem is just that he tends to forget to manage anything when he’s balls deep inside you and you’re both chasing your high jasdkfljsas. But with a bit of assistance and some reminders by you, this guy can definitely keep going for A WHILE.

T = Toys (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?)

Pretty sure he has toys to use on himself for when he’s masturbating, and he also won’t be opposed to sometimes using toys with a partner. Will be all for using vibrators or dildos on you, and might actually get you one he finds pretty and then watches you getting off with it. He also likes seeing you wearing stuff like anal plugs, and goes absolutely crazy if you have piercings down there.

U = Unfair (how much he likes to tease)

He’s very straightforward with what he wants and certainly not a big tease about it. Though sometimes it can be fun to push your buttons a little, he enjoys it more if he’s on the receiving end of the teasing. He’ll play along so well if you keep giving him just the bare minimum, and at the same time he will let you know just how frustrated it’s making him. And this can go two ways - either he becomes really whiny and lets you do to him whatever you want, or his patience will eventually run out and he’s going to take matters into his own hands. Depending on how much teasing he’s endured prior, he tends to get very rough with you, and he knows that, so he’ll make sure to talk this through with you beforehand to make sure he doesn’t do anything you don’t want.

V = Volume (how loud or vocal is he? what does he sound like?)

Very vocal and very loud. Though he will die of embarrassment if it turns out anyone heard you two, he couldn’t care less in the moment. Will tell you exactly what he’s thinking at any given point, including praises, what he wishes you would do to him, or what he wants to do to you. And this ranges from begging for you and making the most shameless noises as you’re on top of him, having your way with him, to growling in your ear how much he needs you and how good it feels to be inside of you when he’s taking the lead.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon)

Mingi lets out a desperate groan as he finally releases inside of you, filling you up with his seed. His motions come to a halt, there’s a drop of sweat making its way down his forehead, and his eyes are squeezed shut as he’s trying to catch his breath. You reach out to comb your fingers through his hair, and then eventually he begins to move on top of you. He pulls out as he sits up, spreading your legs that have been wrapped around his waist apart to get a good look at how his cum is dripping out of you slowly. You can hear him mouth a curse word, before he leans in, but then stops himself.

“Can I?” he asks, his face hovering above your core, his hot breath grazing your skin causing shivers to run down your spine. You merely nod, even though you only half expected him to bury his face between your legs, tongue immediately reaching deep into your hole. You cry out at the sensation, and your legs begin to tremble as he hums at the way your taste mixes with his own in his mouth, as he works you right towards your next orgasm.

X = (X) as a mark (does he like marking you/being marked? where?)

Likes to leave his mark on you anywhere he can reach when he’s in the heat of the moment. Might even forget about being careful around spots where it might be hard to cover, but will move on to a different spot right away if you tell him to. Marking you as his is just something he needs to do every now and then - while he might not be super possessive he does like showing you just who you belong to, and vice versa as well. Will moan instantly when your teeth graze his skin, and the sensation of you marking him is just gonna make him need you even more.

Y = Yearning (how high is his sex drive?)

High. Very high actually, but he’s very much content to take care of it himself from time to time too if your sex drive doesn’t match his. I’m convinced that not only is he a very sexual person deep inside, but he’s also pretty dirty-minded, and so it’s only natural that the need for sex would arise quite often - especially when he’s dating someone and he just can’t keep his thoughts about you safe for work. And while this does result in some pretty amazing sex due to the fact that you’re gonna learn about each other’s turn ons very quickly, he’ll also be understanding if you don’t want to have sex quite as often as he does.

Z = Zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterwards)

Seems like he’d fall asleep fast but unless he’s super tired to begin with I don’t think so. Quite the opposite actually - you might end up staying up for another hour or two because of him, just talking about whatever comes to mind. In moments like these, after you’ve been intimate, he feels very strongly that he can talk to you even about the things he usually keeps hidden deep inside, so a heartfelt talk afterwards is something that does happen with him from time to time.

#ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #mingi smut #mingi imagines #mingi x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez reactions #smut

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whatacaitastrophe · 15 days

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Guilty as Sin?

Summary: After confessing his feelings for Tav, Gale fantasizes about them back in his tent, because he's an idiot who said they needed to wait a little longer to explore their mutual desires.

Rating: Explicit Words: ~1k

Tags: Pillow Humping, Masturbation, Gender neutral Tav, Tav is referred to as "You" Song Inspo: "Guilty as Sin?" - Taylor Swift Author Notes: Shout out to the Magic Man discord server for making me write this, and shout out to Taylor Swift for writing a song about masturbation.

“It’s quite thrilling— to fight off such grim creatures as this region throws at us. Especially at your side.”

Despite the raised eyebrows from Shadowheart and the snide remarks from Astarion (“Really? You’re telling them this now? Right now?”), Gale wasn’t sorry for confessing his attraction to you after the heat of battle. Now that Elminster had quieted the orb in Gale’s chest, he was no longer afraid to be candid about his attraction to you. After all, the mere thought of kissing you was, until recently, a threat to Gale’s very existence. He was touch starved, and now that he could finally do something about it? Why would he wait to finally lay the groundwork of his desires with you until you were alone.

Besides, saying it in front of Astarion also had its perks. The vampire could no longer feign ignorance to the connection Gale shared with you. Therefore, Astarion could no longer continue flirting with you, or do anything else the two of you were doing in the dead of night while everyone else slept, without blatantly walking into Gale’s territory.

Declaring his intentions with you (and hearing you say that you felt the same way) sent a message, loud and clear: You belonged to Gale, and Astarion needed to back the fuck off.

The only misstep Gale made when confessing his attraction to you was insisting that it wasn’t the time or place, that the two of you needed to wait a little longer before exploring your desires. If he’s being honest with himself, that just might be the stupidest thing Gale has ever said.

That was the thought that kept Gale up after everyone else went to sleep, tossing and turning as he silently kicked himself for not immediately inviting you to his tent. There was a reason, of course, Gale wanted the gesture to be as beautiful and grand as the object of his affections, and he couldn’t do it after a full day of flinging spells at shadow-cursed creatures. Damn his lofty ambitions for getting the best of him, even in the simplest ways.

Gale huffed with frustration as he rolled onto his back, the thoughts of you plaguing his mind and making his cock impossibly hard. As Gale slid his hand over his chest, he could only pray that this would be his last night indulging in a fantasy about you instead of indulging in the real thing.

Closing his eyes, Gale started off slowly—palming himself over his pajamas, squeezing his shaft gently. He imagined it was you: You with your soft hands that he’d had the pleasure of brushing against while sitting around the campfire. It was you that slipped deft fingers beneath the hem of his trousers, stroking Gale’s cock with feather light touches. It was you who pulled Gale’s trousers down past his hips, allowing his already leaking cock to spring free from its confines.

“I’ve been waiting for this, for so long.” You said in his mind as he slowly stroked his cock, imagining the way you’d tease him because oh— you would tease him, Gale was certain of it. After all, the two of you had already spent weeks flirting and verbally teasing each other. Why wouldn’t you want to drag it out a little longer.

“Please,” Gale begged audibly, speaking only to the image of you in his head. “I need more.” Gale stroked himself harder as he imagined you complying with his request, leaning forward and enveloping his cock with the wet, hot heat of your mouth. Gale arched his hips into his hand, a soft moan tumbling from his lips at the thought of you swallowing his cock to the hilt until it tickled the back of your throat.

When he couldn’t take it any longer, Gale reached for one of the many pillows he had in his tent and rolled over desperately, placing the pillow between his legs as he straddles it. A soft moan left Gale’s mouth as he braced one hand on the ground and held the pillow in place with the other. As he began grinding against the pillow, the vision in his mind shifted.

You’re beneath him now, your body ready and waiting to take him. Gale imagines what you sound like when you moan as he slides his cock inside of you— how pretty your voice sounds when Gale is the source of your pleasure instead of someone else. How pretty Gale’s name will sound when it’s sung from your lips as he fucks you. A quiet moan passes through Gale’s lips at the thought as he ruts against the pillow, aching and desperate for you.

“Harder.” Your voice is crystal clear in Gale’s mind, as is your body trembling beneath him as he fucks you the way you requested. With a subtle flick of his wrist, the pillow becomes warm beneath him. It’s not quite the same as having a body beneath him, but it will do. Gale’s hips snapped desperately as he chased his pleasure and pretended that it’s not a pillow beneath him, sheathing his cock as he moved, but the velvet warmth of your inner walls.

“Gods, you look incredible,” Gale whimpered softly as he pictured his thick length sliding in and out of you. “You take me so well.” He whispered to no one as he doubled his efforts, hips rutting erratically as Gale’s climax swiftly approached.

“I love you.”

Those were the last words Gale imagined leaving your lips before slapping his hand over his mouth to muffle the moan that escapes him as he cums with a shout. Hot spurts of semen burst from Gale’s cock as he rode the pillow into his own personal oblivion, ruining the fabric beneath him the same way he imagined ruining you.

It was only once his cock was spent and over-sensitive that Gale collapsed onto his bedroll, panting, sweating, and dizzy from the intensity of his climax. The visions of you fade away slowly as Gale stares at the ceiling of his tent, leaving him only as satisfied as one can be after masturbating while the object of their desire slept a dozen feet away: spent, but already aching for more.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow Gale would volunteer to stay back at camp so he could save his strength, so he could save his magic, for you.

Tomorrow, Gale would make you completely and utterly his. He needed to.

Because if he didn’t, he was going to run out of pillows.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gender neutral tav #gender neutral reader #bg3 smut #baldur's gate 3 smut #gale smut #gale one shot #gale fic #gale fanfic

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crystalflygeo · 1 year

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Sinful voice. ft "Morax" + fem!reader (modern AU)

cw/tags: Voice kink, daddy kink, dirty talk, female masturbation, uuhh fantasizing? petnames (sweetheart, sweetie, babygirl, darling).

notes: I literally had this sudden brainrot idea today at work (rip) and as soon as I came home I typed all this in a rush and bOI. That man's voice is just...... no words. Drives me insane, wild, crazy, feral.

To say you were nervous was an understatement.

You were starting a new chapter of your life, fresh into college, moving to a whole other city to dedicate to your studies and enter the “adult world”

You’d arrived a few weeks early to move in and start settling on your little space, it was barely a small room in a house you’d share with other new students. You’d even share a kitchen but hey, at least each one had a tiny individual bathroom for yourselves.

Tomorrow was the big day. Your first day. And although you’d heard many people say they would just take it easy or even skip the first few days (because “they were not that important” as schedules and teachers were still being organized) you’d heard just as many stories about how college was difficult and important and you gotta make good first impressions and familiarize and meet new people and blablabla…

It was pretty nerve-wracking.

So here you are, way past midnight, rolling over in bed unable to calm down.

You sigh and start messing around with your phone, bored. Maybe you can just skip tomorrow?

Or maybe…

You bite your lip. There’s a little something you can do to… relax.

Before you can even think, your fingers are already typing the familiar webpage name on the phone, already smiling mischievously.

In your search for a little “spice” for your solo pleasure sessions you often went for audios and ASMR content. The sounds and voices were much hotter than excessively raunchy lame crude run-of-the-mill videos in your honest opinion. All you had to do was get comfy, close your eyes, and immerse on the fantasy. It was bliss.

And so, a few months ago you had found him.

Morax.

Oh, that man had a voice to die for, deep and rich like syrup, making you shiver and whine every time. His content was absolutely top-notch and you’d been instantly drawn like a moth to a flame ever since you’d managed to drag out one of your best orgasms ever after listening and playing along for a few minutes.

And when you dug around and found his subscription page? Oh boy, you were a goner.

You can only imagine what your parents would say if they knew you spend money on something like this but hey, financial independence means you can spend your money (from part time-jobs and whatnot) on whatever you want.

And damn you want this sexy voice murmuring dirty praise on your ear.

You scramble out of bed, grabbing your earphones and getting rid of some of your clothes before settling down again comfortably, pillow propped against the headboard, almost giggling excitedly as you scroll around the page’s contents.

Morax was obviously an experienced dom. His content covered a myriad of different kinks and scenarios, many of which you had even only started to explore because of him. And though his voice was always calm and refined, with this sweetness and dominant tilt to it, his growls and groans could be just as wild. Morax sounded downright sinful when angry, scolding or degrading the listener. And his moans and soft chuckles? Oh, you could just faint with those.

Or come, probably. Yeah.

“Daddy fucks you in his lap” “Overstimulating my pet’s little clit” “Grind your sweet pussy on Master’s leg” “Waking you up with my big cock” “Making you my good girl” “Cum until you cry and beg”

You blush as you look at the titles, skimming around tags and descriptions looking for whatever strikes your mood tonight. Heck, anything would be fine if it was him though, you swore you weren’t even into the whole daddy kink before you heard Morax but now…

Oh.

Well lucky you, he’d just uploaded something new a few hours ago, you were one of the first views… ever the fangirl, huh? You click on it as you subconsciously lick your lips. Gods, your body feels hot and needy already, knowing what’s to come.

“Daddy spoils your little pussy” reads the caption, and you place your phone by your side, lying down, propping your legs and closing your eyes.

Oh, oh my god. Your breath catches as the audio starts off right away with some lewd wet noises. Usually, Morax would sweet talk for a bit first to set the scene and mood, but you sure weren’t complaining!

Your heartbeat speeds up as your hands start rubbing at your legs and over your panties, just trying to get your body up to speed.

“Hmmm… oh, there you are sweetheart.” Gods. Morax’s voice. You already wanted to moan at the deep baritone vibrating in your ears. “I’m sorry to wake you up.”

How ironic that you couldn’t sleep yourself.

His voice drags, sounds a little tired and hoarse, it just adds to it and you picture him kissing and dragging his tongue along your skin “You like that don’t you baby? Feeling my lips… tracing your hipbone like this. I can feel the goosebumps blooming along your skin.”

Oh goosebumps alright, you shiver as you rub at your skin a little impatient, how you wish you really had his lips worshipping you right now.

“You don’t even have to do anything, you can even just go back to sleep, if you’d like.” He chuckles. “But daddy just needed you, he needed his… hmm… sweet babygirl.”

“Hng Morax yes… need you too, daddy.” You whisper softly, already shifting on the sheets.

He continues to kiss and whisper sweet nothings about how he wants to make you feel good, kiss you and pamper you and make you relax, and you melt. His soft breathing and wet sucking and kissing noises turning you on instantly.

“Alright sweetie let’s take these panties off.” There’s a slight rustle of fabric in the audio as you quickly strip off your own underwear along. “That’s a good girl. Hmm… look at your sweet little pussy, already wet and swollen for me.” He groans and you whimper and buck your hips.

“Oh god please…” You’re so keyed up already. Morax simply has that effect on you, and you wish he would hurry so you can start touching where you most need it.

“Hmm… just relax sweetheart. Lie down and let daddy take care of you… of your cute little pussy.” More erotic noises follow as you picture him slowly going down and down until he kisses and licks at your folds. “Oh, that tickles sweetie?” Another sinful chuckle.

His voice, his voice was just so good. You’d wondered many times what kind of man would have such a deep hypnotizing voice. Surely he was older, but maybe not quite a silver fox. Dark hair, maybe? A large frame, broad shoulders, lean muscles but still elegant, a proper gentleman to go with his personality.

You knew he had golden eyes, that was a fact. Well, at least what he’d mentioned in a couple of scenes, it could very well be a lie but you wanted to believe in that mysterious domineering golden glow, staring up at you like molten heat from above you or between your legs.

Morax’s voice keeps feeding your fantasy, commenting how wet you are, how your body twitches, how he drags, slow and languid around your hole and oh, it’s like your body responds exactly the way he wants, guided by him.

“Darling, let me just… hmm… suck on your cute little clit like this.”

“Ah!”

A shock of pleasure runs trough your veins as you start rubbing on the little nub. His voice muffled, moaning as he sucks and licks and sighs deeply, clearly enjoying this.

“So sweet, so good for me. Oh, it makes daddy just ache for you sweetheart.”

You want Morax’s cock in you yesterday.

His voice turns breathy and strained, the noises and tension intensifying as you rub faster, legs shaking, your breath coming out in gasps to match his, back arching off the bed. It’s all so good, his praise, his dirty words, his gasps, his moans.

“Come on sweetie, I know you want my big cock but first… hng… first daddy wants you to cum hah… do that for me princess? Come for daddy, come on.”

“F-fuck… fuck… hnnng” You mewl. “M-Morax…”

“I got you darling I’m right here, you can cum baby I want to taste you.”

“Ah A-Ah!” Your mouth parts into a silent scream and your whole body tenses and shudders, pleasure buzzing in your veins and under your flushed sweaty skin. Your juices spill against your hand but you imagine them wetting his chin as his voice groans and moans in your ears. You picture those half-lidded sultry golden eyes glowering at you.

“That’s a very good girl…” He chuckles, and your hazy mind can picture him nuzzling at your inner thighs. “Now, now get ready babygirl, give me your legs like this.” A noise of sheets shifting registers in your brain “Around my shoulder and let me just… hng… stroke my big cock ready for you.”

Oh you were floating, your head was spinning, you parted your legs, following his every command, fingers still rubbing at your oversensitive folds to simulate whatever he was doing. You moan at the slick jerking sound and vaguely lament not having something to fill you up as he would.

“Hmm… we’re just getting started, my dear.” He hisses.

The night was long and the audio not even halfway…

———————————————————–

Even though you ended up going to sleep way past any reasonable time you didn’t really feel tired. In fact, you slept wonderfully, warm and sated. And so, you headed up to class with a carefree skip and bright smile, excited to see what this new day and new year would bring you.

The classroom was rather big but looked pretty empty even though the professor was already there, you slid into one of the front seats and quickly checked the time. You weren’t late or anything, he was just… punctual and early, it seems. Which is more than can be said by the majority of the students… if they are even coming to the class.

Some general studies were mandatory classes, though you’d only had to take a couple courses before moving to subjects more in line with your chosen career. But for now, seems like you had to deal with… history.

The professor was, well… handsome, to be quite honest. And you found yourself quietly admiring him from afar. Prim and proper with long silky dark hair in a low ponytail, a perfectly neat and brown suit, and thin elegant glasses that only drew more attention to his striking gold eyes. Not a crease in sight, not a hair out of place.

He was rather meticulous it seems, with the way he organized his material, checking the time before starting the class on the dot.

“Greetings everyone, my name is Zhongli.” He smiles warmly. “I believe a welcome in is order as this is your first day of college, a new stage of your life.”

No way.

Absolutely no fucking way.

His voice…

“Seems like you’re stuck with me for your very first class.” He chuckles.

Low and deep and velvet.

Oh, you know that exact same sound.

Your eyes widen.

Oh shit.

Mr. Zhongli is Morax…

“Let’s hope this year shall be a good and prosperous one, hm?”

#genshin smut #zhongli smut #genshin x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin x you #zhongli x you #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact smut #crys writes #fem reader #professor zhongli #SIKE did you like that lil plot twist at the end???#lmao it was hella obvious but I still didn't wanna ruin it from the start by putting it in the title #idk how to tag cw #LISTEN #ZHONGLI'S VOICE IS PURE SIN I CANNOT #SCREAMING AT MY OWN WRITING #MIGHT HAVE AN IDEA FOR A FOLLOW UP ALREADY HMMMMMM

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bluebells-and-dragonflies · 3 days

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Can I request Reader asking Astarion nervously if you can spank him? Only if he's interested & after discussing about his boundaries & safe words!

Just for you, beloved anon.

NSFW below the cut! Mind the tags, and minors, please don't interact!

"So, I have a proposition for you," you begin, leaning back against the counter. Your heart pounds in your chest, but you try as hard as you can to push your apprehension down. He'd told you to be honest, after all. He'd told you to ask.

Astarion lifts his head from the book he's reading at the table in the middle of your kitchen, attention immediately redirected to you. He closes it without looking away from your face. "Oh? Do tell. You always have the most interesting ideas."

You grin at him at the same time he grins at you, and you both have to stifle a laugh. Your ideas are very interesting, if you do say so yourself. Astarion certainly tends to think so, if the way he'd flushed the time you suggested fucking him instead of the other way round was any indication.

It takes real effort to draw your focus back to the conversation at hand instead of reminiscing on where that particular discussion had led. "I was thinking about things I might like to try, like we talked about."

Astarion straightens in his chair. "Go on."

"And I came up with something else." You take a breath. There's really no good way to say it, so you just brace youself and hope for the best. "I want to try spanking. Spanking you. So do with that what you will."

There's a heavy silence once you've spoken, the two of you staring at each other in a beat of mutual thought. Anxiety surges in your chest as you watch his face, looking for any sign of discomfort or disgust. The last time you talked about sex and limits, you'd promised each other that you'd share any fantasies that came up. Astarion wants to experiment as much as possible, wants to find out what he likes, and he said he would at least consider virtually anything. But this is something you haven't tried yet: you haven't ever taken the more dominant role when those dynamics come into play. It could be a problem, you know that, and of course you're afraid that even asking will remind him of things he'd rather forget. But you want to give him the opportunity to say yes or no instead of making his decisions for him.

A slow smile starts to spread across Astarion's face as he stands up from his chair, crossing the space between you in two strides and pressing so close that you have to crane your neck up to see him properly. His fangs flash over his bottom lip, his eyes darken, and when he croons "Well, darling, I think I could be amenable," you're flooded with the heat of knowing he wants it as bad as you do.

So it is that you find yourself watching Astarion undress himself before you as you sit on the side of your bed, fully clothed. You're long past any need for modesty with each other, and he flashes you a sultry smirk as he pulls his shirt over his head.

"Same safe-words as always?" you ask. Astarion tugs his trousers down, and you get a rather delightful view of the toned muscles in his thighs as he kicks them off (and across the room, but that's something to deal with later).

"Fine with me," he says. "'Dagger' for stop. Snap of the fingers if we can't talk." His underwear goes the same way as his trousers, and before you know it he's straddling your lap, arms thrown around your neck. His lips are on yours almost instantly, and you kiss him back with pure muscle memory, raising your hands to cup his face and run your fingers through his curls. When you tug ever-so-gently, you're rewarded with the smallest moan into your mouth.

It takes the better part of fifteen minutes to get completely situated- you're entirely unable to keep your hands off of each other, and at one point Astarion nearly derails the whole thing by pinching your nipples through the fabric of your shirt- but you get there eventually. Astarion lies over your lap, facedown, his ass exposed to you. He rests his head on his arms and wiggles a little as he settles.

"Are you ready?" you ask, sliding your palm over the smooth skin of his lower back.

"Yes," he says, and no more than that. Before you have time to talk yourself out of it, you cup one of his cheeks, then quickly smack it with the flattest part of your hand.

It's not a particularly hard blow, but Astarion jolts a bit anyway, his cock dragging against the inner part of your thigh. He takes a breath- one, two, three- and you see his fingers flex in the fabric of the bedspread.

"Again," he hisses. "Gods- again," and his voice is low and strained and almost unbelievably fucking hot, and you've never been good at saying no to him. Every time you hit him, he tells you again, more. Every time you hit him, he seems to grow harder against you. You spank him again and again, alternating between cheeks, hitting every part of his ass until his skin glows pink., and you're raising your hand to deliver another blow when he stumbles on his demand.

Your hand stills. "Is this alright?"

Astarion lifts his head to look over his shoulder at you incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"I just want to hear you say it."

You can almost physically see him biting back whatever quip or barb has sprung to the tip of his tongue. "Yes, darling," he says instead, letting his head fall back down to the mattress. "It's alright. It's- it's good."

Reassured, you raise your hand. Astarion tenses when you pull away, already anticipating the next blow. it's obvious that he's expecting it (and that he wants it- he's grinding shallowly against your thigh, little aborted thrusts of his hips that he's clearly struggling to keep control of), but you refuse to give it to him, just for a second. Instead, you trail your fingertips up his side and relish in the reaction you get: a soft sigh and a gorgeous shiver.

He does look good like this, you think to yourself as you squeeze his hip just enough to win a short little gasp. What a privilege to be the one to get to see it. His ass has blushed a very pretty shade of pink where he's taken your blows. Something deep in your belly twists at the knowledge that it's your blood that courses through his veins. Your blood that fills the hard cock digging insistently into your inner thigh.

"How many more do you think, darling?" you murmur, running a soothing hand up his spine and into the downy hair at the nape of his neck. "Tell me what you want. Tell me what will get you there."

He hesitates only a moment. "Twenty." His voice is steadier than you would have thought. "Give me twenty. I..I want to know how it feels."

"Alright, love." Your hand returns to the curve of his ass. You gently press your fingertips into his reddened skin and admire the pale marks left behind.

Later, you'll remember as clearly as if you're living through it again. On the first hit, Astarion gasps, a sharp inhale of breath that he doesn't need or mean to take. On the fifth hit, he starts making sounds in the back of his throat, punched-out little ah-ah-ahs as your hand connects with his ass again and again. On the eleventh hit, Astarion begins to lose control of the movement of his body, and the restrained grind of his cock against your thighs becomes more and more frantic. On the sixteenth hit, he cries out, genuinely cries out, a wordless shout of pain and pleasure. He doesn't say his safe-word, doesn't signal you, just writhes in your lap alive with arousal and need. And on the nineteenth hit, he comes with a wanton, aching moan, unable to stop himself from leaving your thighs an absolute mess. You stop there, and when you gently brush the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead and whisper "thank you," Astarion smiles at you like you've lit the sun.

Afterward, there are hours (maybe even days) of aftercare, and the two of you discuss every single part of what you've done together: what you liked best, what you want to do again, what felt good. The next time you find yourself in the same position, it's him who asks you, a pink flush at the tips of his ears. For now, though, you're content to take care of him.

#.astarion #.spanking #presenting this to the world with the same energy as that one cunty picture of dwight eisenhower #i think it's actually more likely that astarion would be the one to ask for this but that's a whole other story...#astarion x you #astarion smut #astarion x reader #.nsft #astarion x gn reader #astarion x tav #astarion x gn!tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you

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sidekick-hero · 3 months

Text

(steddie | gen | 1.2k | tags: feelings realization (not his own), Kas!Eddie (flashback), smoking weed together, boys in love | @steddielovemonth prompt: Love is what makes you brave | AO3)

Eddie never claimed to be smart. It was not for nothing that it took him three tries and a very lenient high school administration - thanks to Hawkins' very own apocalypse - to graduate from high school.

It's not that he's dumb. It's more that he has what his uncle calls a scatterbrain. It's hard for him to focus on anything outside of the things he's really passionate about, like DnD or metal or fantasy. So it's not really surprising that he realizes that Steve is in love with him weeks after he's fallen for the boy himself.

And oh boy, did he fall for Steve Harrington. Hook, line and sinker.

It's new and exciting and scary. It takes up all the space in his head, and just as he read Lord of the Rings so many times that he can recite Aragorn's battle speech at the Black Gate, Eddie now spends all his time and energy learning everything there is to know about Steve Harrington.

He begins to pay attention to what people say about Steve and even more to what's said between the lines. He learns a lot by finally listening to all the times Dustin talks about Steve, which is often, singing his praises in his own, unique Dustin way.

Eddie focuses on what he can learn about Steve from the stories the others tell about a time when Eddie wasn't part of this weird little group of misfits and heroes, and collects all the clues like he's Sherlock fucking Holmes and Steve is his Moriarty.

Like how Robin and Steve have all these jokes from their Scoops days, even though they only really became friends later, during their run-in with the Russians. Yet Steve was willing to bait them into beating him instead of Robin, sacrificing himself so she could be spared before they ever established their platonic soul mateship.

It fits with the story Jonathan told him once, when they were smoking pot with Argyle, about Steve running back into a house with an honest-to-God monster in it to help Nancy and him fight it. And that was after Steve had come to Jonathan to apologize for their fight, even though he had reason to suspect that his girlfriend was cheating on him with Jonathan.

It's like puzzle pieces clicking together in Eddie's head.

At first, they don't fit with the things Steve tells him while they're out by the pool, sharing a joint and just talking. Steve goes on about all the times he was a coward, how he never stood up to his father or the bullies at school, even when he thought they were going too far.

But the things he says start to make sense to Eddie when Steve starts talking about how he only ditched Tommy and his other asshole friends because of Nancy. Because she made him realize how shitty he had become for fear of falling out of line and losing his status and his so-called friends.

Steve would never say he was brave.

But Eddie knows the truth.

Eddie knows that Steve is brave for the people he loves.

Love makes Steve brave.

And Steve loves fast and hard.

Once those two things become a certainty in Eddie's mind, other things fall into place.

Vecna sent him back to his friends as a spy, but they saw right through him, so he attacked them. He was faster and stronger now, thanks to whatever spell he was under, and he was vicious. They weren't his friends, they were the enemy. If he didn't kill them, they would kill him.

It makes him remember something he mostly tries to forget because it still hurts. It still fills him with shame and guilt. But now he thinks back to those weeks when he was under Vecna's control, a puppet dancing to his master's will.

Vecna had saved Eddie's body from dying when Dustin and the others thought he was already dead, but it came at a price.

Steve, the self-sacrificing idiot, managed to trap himself and Eddie in a room away from the others, his trusty nail bat at the ready. They faced each other, both ready to attack, to fight until one or both were dead.

And then Steve dropped the goddamn bat.

"I'm not going to fight you, Eddie. This isn't you. This isn't the guy who gave the outcasts and the nerds and the geeks a safe haven in the middle of the hell that is high school for them. This isn't the guy who decided to fight for a town that abandoned him and hunted him because he was different."

Steve took a step closer, so close that Eddie could see the flecks of green and gold in his hazel eyes.

"This isn't the guy who gave his life to save Dustin and buy us more time."

Warm hands closed around his own, clenched into fists and ready to strike, and cradled them gently.

"You saved us, Eddie. Because you are good. Because no matter how cruel the world was to you, you never stopped being kind." Another step towards the monster with his friend's face, but Steve never faltered, never hesitated.

"Please come back to us. Dustin needs you. Mike and Lucas need you."

Steve's arms wrapped around him, pulling him into their warm embrace, holding him tight as Steve said directly into his ear, "We need you, Eddie."

It hit Eddie right then and there, lying on the grass in Steve's yard with the pungent smell of the finished joint still in the air and the warmth of Steve's body seeping into his own where they touched from head to toe.

He never thought about it before because it couldn't have been. Steve had only known him a few days before the bats got him. And besides, he had been mooning over Nancy at the time, hadn't he?

But Steve risked his own life to get Eddie back. He could have killed Eddie, probably should have. Instead, Steve bravely stood his ground and reminded Eddie of his own humanity. Of all the love in his life and in his heart.

Steve falls hard and fast.

Love makes Steve brave.

Steve had only known Eddie, really known him outside of high school gossip, for a few days, but he risked his life to save Eddie.

Clumsy with the lingering effects of the weed in his body, Eddie turns his head to look at Steve, who's still staring up at the starry night sky. He takes in his profile, the sharp jaw line, the strong nose, the full lower lip. Steve is beautiful. He's good and kind and bitchy and secretly a giant dork. And he...

"You love me."

Eddie doesn't mean to just blurt it out, a thought that only formed a few minutes ago, but he's never been known for his brain to mouth filter and holy shit, Steve Harrington loves him.

Startled, Steve tears his eyes away from the stars to look at Eddie instead, his lovely hazel eyes wide as they search and hold Eddie's.

"I know," he finally says, leaning in even closer as if they were sharing a secret. "What gave it away?"

Instead of answering right away, Eddie bridges the infinitesimal gap between them and kisses Steve.

"I make you brave." At Steve's questioning look, Eddie adds, "Don't worry, you make me brave, too."

Before Steve can ask any more questions that Eddie's weed-addled brain couldn't answer anyway, he captures Steve's lips in another kiss before bravely rolling on top of him and showing him just how much Eddie loves him, too.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #day 7 #love is what makes you brave #my writing

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thmles · 11 months

Text

| August.

- You weren't mine to lose.

[pairing: miles morales x best friend!reader]

[warnings: sweet to angst, a bit of spoilers since the some scenes described came from the movie, regret, heartbreak]

[a/n: if you know august by taylor swift, yk the pain. it's based off that song bc i was thinking about some past situationships and how for some of them i was just a rebound so... anyway for the you're losing me fic, i'm not sure if i would make a part two, but i'll definitely think about it! anyways enjoy 🫶🏻]

You and Miles had met when your family moved into the apartment above them. You were both nine and to be honest, you kind of saw him as weird. When you were hanging out (much to your dismay, you would rather read than be with some boy), he would mumble songs as he drew on the sketchpad he got for his birthday. You, on the other hand, were silently reading fantasy novels that you got for Christmas. Despite your differences, you made quite the pair even going into high school.

Summer had approached Brooklyn faster than you anticipated. It was hot and humid. The air conditioning in your room would not work for some unknown reason and you were stuck sweating it out in your room. You grabbed a folder and used it to fan your face. A knock on your door grabbed your attention before eventually opening. “Miles, you can come into my room, you know.” You told him with a slight edge to your voice. He let out a chuckle before replying, “That’s just rude. My mom raised me better.” You rolled your eyes and stood to the side to let him in. You closed the door behind him as he sat on your desk chair and twirled around.

“Something on your mind, Morales?” You ask him as you sit on your bed cross-legged. You could tell he was nervous. He was looking down on the floor and sort of sweating. “A-Ah, it’s nothing. I just, uhm.” Miles mumbled out. You raised an eyebrow at his behavior. He was rarely ever like this.

“Just what?”

“Well, I was hoping that Gwen would come back and we could go to an art museum.” Miles paused to look at you to which you just stared back at him.

“And what do you want me to do?” You would be sad if Miles asked you only because Gwen wasn’t around. But, time with Miles is still better than anything. You have harbored a crush on him since you guys were ten. At first you were even in denial of your feelings for the boy but when you guys danced at your school’s halloween party, you knew it was over for you.

“Come with me instead? I mean do you want to stay in this heat?” Miles in a know-it-all tone. You rolled your eyes before chucking the folder you were using at his face. He laughed as he caught it with ease, setting it on your desk.

“Is it a yes or no?”

“What do you think, Morales?”

And that was the beginning of an eventful summer. You two were going out together more often than staying in. Everyday was a summer adventure for the both of you. Summer filled with laughter, longing stares, and nightly stargazing at the rooftop. It was the best summer you ever had, especially because you two might or might not have shared a kiss underneath the moonlight. You weren’t sure what exactly the label you guys had. You guys were best friends, for sure, but best friends don’t look at each other that way. They don’t kiss and draw the other on their sketchbook. They don’t take polaroids of each other to keep in their wallets to admire and treasure.

But all things came crashing down when you saw Miles with Gwen that autumn at his dad’s party. You were clutching the sketchbook he left at your desk the last time you guys hung out. Miles looked so…so in love with Gwen. Like she was the life of the party. You had an epiphany. All summer, you thought he looked at you lovingly. But, he wasn’t. It was different from the one he was giving Gwen right now. You knew better than to look through his sketchbook because it was his safe space. He could draw and doodle all that he wanted to help with the stress of life and school. As you opened the first few pages, it was filled with random sort of graffiti art. Flipping through more pages, there were drawings of spiders, Spider-Man, and,

“Gwen.” You breathed out. Tears were pooling at your eyes as more and more pages were filled with drawings of her that you were sure he drew over the summer. But there was only one drawing of you. The page also contained the polaroid he took of you as you were looking out into the city. You shut the notebook with one hand and wiped your tears with the other. His mom walked over to you while holding a plate of cake. She greeted other guests before she was in front of you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She asked with concern. She rubbed your back as you tried to prevent more tears from rolling down your face.

“Tía, can you…can you give this to Miles?” You told her softly and handed her the sketchbook. She looked confused but accepted it nonetheless. “And tell him to never talk to me again.”

You left that party without looking back. You weren’t even sure what to say to Miles or his parents. That he made you his rebound? That you were just a summer fling? You locked yourself in your room before your dad could question why you weren't at the party upstairs. You didn’t even make it to bed before you broke down sobbing. You slid against the door and began to cry. Your heart ached as memories of the wonderful summer you had flashed in your mind. You stood up and grabbed your wallet from your desk to pull out the polaroid of Miles’ stuffed face that you thought was cute. You took that picture when he was eating too much cake from your dad’s birthday. You stuffed it inside a drawer because you knew you couldn’t get yourself to get rid of it.

That night Miles kept trying to call you to which you promptly put your phone on ‘Do not disturb.’ You spent hours with a tear stained face and a numb heart. You stared out into space wondering what you did to deserve this pain. But you remembered that, it was kind of your fault too. Who were you to assume you and Miles had something after a summer filled with dates and stolen kisses? You were just his best friend. You were just a rebound. A summer fling.

“You weren’t mine to lose.” You mumbled to yourself as you brought your knees to your chest to hug them. Meanwhile, Miles is stuck in another dimension wishing he could go back to fix the mess he made, to go back to you and the amazing summer you had.

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #into the spider verse #miles morales x you #miguel o'hara x reader

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thebottomfromhell · 1 month

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In a scenario where the reader is a hashira, what do you think would happen to him if his relationship with a demon was discovered. I know you wrote something along those lines where the reader was someone ordinary. The Hashiras, in the original work, are mostly nice, but they are very strict-minded about demons, so I wonder what their reaction would be if one of their own basically "betrayed" them. If you think it's going to be very similar, you can just ignore it or just say what you think would happen, without it necessarily being a story. I would appreciate it just the same

The Hashira request I like, the one where we treat them as the corporation of hunters they are instead of the avengers! I usually don't like making reader a Hashira, since I like to make it relatable to most, and let's be honest, the power fantasy is nice but most wouldn't live past Kanoe XD. Besides, it's funnier to make powerless MC's who need constant saving. But once or twice can't hurt.

The Hashira will refer to reader as L/N, as Last Name. Like last time it won't specify gender nor who's Uppermoon reader is with. One difference would be that as a civilian, last time reader only knew about the corps due being warned by their couple, hence only saw them as a bounch of psychos, here they will be more aware of certain things.

Hashira find out Hashira!GN Reader has a relationship with an Upper Moon

Warnings: Manga spoilers, Torture (Mostly non-physical, and the ones ññ, Excesive violence, Mutilation, Mentioned non-consented drug use, Mention of character's death, Implied sexual content, Suicidal character with survival guilt (Giyuu) and Open ending.

You became a Hashira to save others, you were told sometimes you were someone that loves too much, even for this line of work, specially for this line of work. In your ranking, most of everyone is civil to each other (depending on your definition of civil), but there is at least a level of trust. But not the tradiotional trust of sharing your burdens or being able to do things together, every Hashira prefers to work without the others, but trust that everyone else will do their job and kill every demon they meet or die trying.

That is exactly the trust you broke, so everyone is angry, upset and thirsty for blood. Most Hashira think positive things about each other, you also had only good things to say when asked, but now? After all that conversations you had with your lover about the inferiority of humanity, that they are pests, barbaric, backstabbers, a necessary evil... you have to wonder. After they caged you without any warning or mercy, sending Kocho and Shinazugawa for you, ending up beated and drugged.... you wonder. You just wonder.

Is it actually right?

The fellow Hashira could have at least confronted you out of the sake of the this fellowship, you could recieve visits from someone that isn't Kocho, drugging you for the sake of being easier to handle for the kakushi. And not only she drugs you, she always makes sure to remind you of your situation. To shame you, to taunt you, to hurt you. "Ara ara, aren't you eager to move? This is the second time I have to drug you today. You should really give a slack to the kakushi, they are just trying to do their job. But again, considering what you did, I must really question if you care about the efforts of the people in the corps." She says smiling, even if your blurred vision doesn't let you see it clearly, you can tell by her tone. Shinobu spits poison so cafefully with every word. Because she hates you. "You know? A mere civilian or commoner would have a an excuse. The don't know the level of sacrifice we have made, the pain the demons have caused. You? You did. And you had one job, the same as us. To stop that pain or die trying, you should have done the later."

You know about Kanae. You were never told about the demon who killed her nor the details, but it's almost (Tokito...) impossible to be a Hashira and NOT know about her death on the hands of demons. You knew, know that most Hashira have lost something to demons, and yet you decided to get close to one. Close enough to become lovers. But... it was right, at the time. The gentle touches, the vulnerable moments, the softness. The beatings inside your chest, the warmness in your face, that lightness in that voice... you are in love. And that Uppermoon is too, or else you would be dead, like everyone seems to wish you were, already.

You have too much free time in your thoughts, since you are tied up in a way you can't move any of your limbs and struggling cut's your circulation, kept in a dark room, when light and noise only appear when the Kakushi are told to feed you, once a day at most. You have no idea if they were told to do it that way or they are only scared to face a "renegade Hashira" or whatever they call you when you can't hear them. Your body is sore, it has been for the longest time, and you feel constantly sick due Kocho's drugs. Dizzy, tired, too hot, wanting to throw out when anything touches your throat, and even after hours the needles stings remains in wherever she managed to shot you. You also never healed your leg when fighting Shinazugawa, at lealt not properly. You can still feel empty tissues and the bone in your thigh stabbing the flesh, with smaller piece stuck. Your nose is also broken, making you need to breath through the mouth. The only thing Kocho actually tended was a cut through your hand, so you don't die from the blood loss.

You still remember grabbing the tilt of your sword to protect yourself, only to have all of the digits cut out of the hand, keeping in each different fractions, but all of the without the tips. At first there was a fast and intense sting, similar to a burning senssation as your katana started to fall from your grip, then, for a second, a coldness that was at worst, annoying, some sort of emptyness. Finally, when the realization sink there was pain in your pulsating fingers, mixing a lasting feeling of both previous ones, fighting to be the dominant one. You still can feel, on a lesser extent, all the time, those sensations.

It takes a lot for you to not go mad with the lack of contact with everything, and that sensation of being ill. Part of you wonders if your beloved will save you, if any other Hashira will speak to at least let you defend yourself in vain. Every day it becomes less of a reality, which adds resentment. Part of you tells you that you were the one to betray them first, another that longs that sweet voice and touches angers, wanting nothing to get out, to go somewhere safe, with the demon you love. "My sister and my best friend were killed by demons..." One day you suddenly feel a voice besides you... Tomioka. He is giving you his back, speaking only high enough so you can make up what he is saying. "So I really hate them... how... how were you able to love such a monster, knowing well what others suffered because of them?"

You don't know the answer, you can't even speak coherently due the drugs on your system. That is a question you asked yourself so much, thinking that if you didn't fall like that, you wouldn't be in this situation... but... "Sp-cil.... hom.... looovd...." you wonder if the silence means resignation or understanding, but you are glad to have someone close. "You will not be forgiven... there is someone that might, but... he is not here right now, and seeing the situation is probably for the best. I'm sorry." You... honestly can't understand it. That is why you curse Tomioka after he leaves, even if he was the only one willing to listen to you. That feeling only gets worse when you realize he is not in your "trial", he didn't go. The others, as always were neither fast to condemn him or dismiss him because of it, but besides some of them changing the subject, nobody came to his defense. Like you have already realized nobody is comming for yours.

You don't listen when Oyakata-sama speaks, is your attention lacking or he is just talking too low due being sick? None the less you just watch the others. Tokito is there, you want to trash out, but are still drugged and tied up, at the fact the child is here. That is child is going to see you being excecuted... but does it make a difference, this child has killed even more powerful demons than you, and you has never seem to care. Is it really that different to see a human die than a demon? Because everyone else seems so eager to see you die as one. You wouldn't know, you never wished death upon any specific human nor killed any. Yes, sometimes you curse some more anstract subjects, like people who hurt others, some criminals, and so, but you have never talked to anyone and wished you could kill them.

Every Hashira seems obsessed with death in one way or another, even if it's only to avoid it like Mitsuri, who is crearly sobbing and trying to keep it down. "Where is Tomioka? We shouldn't start without him!" Asks Rengoku impossible to not hear him, even in your state, but you know that he isn't comming probably asked permission for it. Damn him, that coward. You can also basically hear the scoffs from Shinazugawa and Obanai. After some seconds you feel the Serpent Hashira stab your shoulder with that irregula blade, making the cut difficult ans uneven, not covering the bleeding at all. "Obanai! Stop! Do not let your anger cloud your judgement!" Himejima acrually screams, and Obanai is close enough for you to hear and see him decently.

There is also a significant, loud, growing hatred in his eyes. Being any other situation you would tease that it's because you made Kanroji cry, but you know better. It's because he trusted you to kill demons and die trying, and you didn't. Come to think about it, it's an unfair standard to hold against anyone. What about those who had someone to go hone to? What about those too young to die? What about those who have a bright future ahead? Is everyone expected to? "My judgement?! What about L/N's judgement! This level of treason is unforgivable! It deserves more than a quick death! I apologize, Oyakata-sama, but I can't accept your desition!" Kanroji only cries harder at the time she speaks. "NO! NO! Y/N-SAN IS STILL OUR FRIEND! WE SHOULD AT LEAST MAKE IT AS PAINLESS AS POSSIBLE!"

"OUR FRIEND? A FRIEND DOESN'T GO AND SLEEP WITH THE ENEMY! IF L/N SIDES WITH THE ENEMY THEN WE TREAT THEM AS SUCH!" Shinazugawa screams at her, moving her direction angrily, so both Kocho and Rengoku put themself in between. You can't hear what Kocho says, but you can definetely make up what Rengoku does. "Shinazugawa! I understand your anger! This betrayal woould never go unpunished! But if we torture and rip L/N as we pleasw we won't be better than demons! We must answer with humanity!"

There is arguing, a lot of noise, Himejima and Tokito-kun are the only ones that are not with to it, besides the big boss who will only let them cool down by themselves, but you don't know that because you can make any voice out of the sounds, but because you know them. You know them... You spoke with them, shared meals and stories with some, worked with them... you know them, and they know you. And still, they will be the ones to kill you as long as they sort their shit out before you bleed to death.

"SILENCE! THIS IS SO UNFLASHY, WE SHOULD NOT BE GOING AGAINST EACH OTHER AFTER SUCH AN EVENT. We are already too on edge for this treason, we we can handle it. We should not be losing trust on each other!" Suddenly screams Uzui as he takes out his weapons, unecesaryly moving them for show, having the blades surrounding his torso, arms and shoulders without a single scratch on him. "I should be the one who deals with this. I know how to make it fast." He gets close to you as your vision becomes even more blured, to the point everything is red. Not black yet, you can basically see your eyelids and your own blood on the ground. You feel cold, trembling violently, you are pain, wanting to throw up your empty, tight and twisted stomach, feeling as if your organs will leave your body through the mouth the second you give into that urge. You pant, having a hard time breathing, every muscles is sore and protests... You are scared.

You swore that was what forced you to stay awake, even after loosing so much blood, but then... "Well, isn't this sad?" You hear a voice loud and clear, masculine. One that you have never heard before but still edges you. Your heart beats faster and normally you would worry about what that would mean something for the bloodloss, but... you don't feel like you are loosing blood, on the contrary, you feel more. "To be honest, I didn't notice at first you had my blood in your system, but now that you are weak, loosing the liquids of your body, the few drops you had inside are taking over. I won't pretend I don't know about your... intimacy with one of my powerful demons, but let me tell you this. It can save you."

You.... can be saved? You want to be saved, you have no idea where Uzui is, if he is near and ready to make the last blow or the arguing is stopping him. "You see, right now I can speak with you, share myself, but I can't take any look in your mind. But if you were to say where you are, I will gladly save you. Just tell where where are the ones who hurt you, and I'll even reward you with more blood. Don't you think it's a winning deal for you?" You cal sell out everyone for your own survival. Do you actually want them to die? To be killed. You feel suddenly a bit better, as the demon cells fight off the drugs.

You take air into your lungs softly and-

Tomioka Giyuu is in his home. He didn't want to be part of this. For now he doesn't want to think about it, the fact that one day he might take your place for not killing that demon girl. Urokodaki sends him letters of Kamado Tanjiro's process, the boy sends him his own letters too. He reads them all. Right now he has a brush in his hands, wondering if he should answer. He is tempted to write back, congratulate him, tell him he is doing good, to take care of himself and his sister, or at least to warn him about some difficulties he might face.

He can't. He doesn't want to get attached, no matter how nice and lovely the boy is, of how much he reminds him of himself when younger, except Tanjiro has more talent and is more capable that he was at his age. He will make a great water Hashira, far better than him. But for that Tomioka can't risk the others undermining his judgement by defending you. He didn't know if he would or not, and he didn't want to find out. Right now, that important thing is to ensure that the boy will take his place, and that means taking his distance too. Because everyone that Giyuu has ever held so dear into his heart dies. His sister and Sabito.... and even if you too were not close, not really friend... but still.

"It shoukd have been me." Is the only thing he can think as he sets the brush aside, not having written anything, and saving the letters carefully in a box. Then, just silence.

It doesn't matter anymore.

#demon slayer #kny #upper moons #kny x reader #shinobu kocho #giyuu tomioka #sanemi shinazugawa #gyomei himejima #muichiro tokito #mitsuri kanroji #rengoku kyojuro #obanai iguro #tengen uzui #reader x uppermoon #I'm not denying my favoritism

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linneri · 1 year

Text

navy blue

aged-up!neteyam x fem reader

no warnings; spoiler free

non-english speaker

His skin had a much cooler shade than yours; that was the first thing you noticed. Bright navy blue, deeper, heavier, almost impossible to get from marine nature. The pair of amber eyes were scanning the surroundings, checking for potential dangers, confirming if his family is safe here among strangers, and this gaze had you glued to the ground, feet grown in sand when these eyes accidentally went looking directly, straight into you. Tsireya was talking and smiling, and you wanted to scream at him, "Hey, look at her, she's the prettiest girl here," but he was still and almost hypnotized, ears trembling nervously. He's mesmerizing, you thought. He's so pretentious, it's almost scary. He must be brave enough for those kinds of stares, brave or frivolous—you couldn't decide.

Stranger from a land where trees touch the sky and levitating mountains have no ground beneath them, it was poetic; he must have seen the highest of altitudes.

His father came from the star, as you'll be told later. It makes sense; he is a cosmic boy, the comeliest of the aliens, and you found it truly beautiful. You two didn't talk after; he melted from this frozen gaze and went with Tsireya, Ao'nung, and the whole group of his younger siblings with big eyes and thin tails, and they all were adorable, really, you could feel the strong, unbreakable connection in this family. It was a bit painful to look at them from the side, but you weren't the daughter of the Olo'eyktan, surely, you were just a part of the clan, just a watcher. That is what was most surprising to you this morning. You weren't in the first line; you never are. Looking at forest guests from someone's shoulders, hiding patiently just to watch from the side, and still being noticed like this—strongly, gripped with the gaze. He caught you like a hunter catching a thief. Overthinking these few minutes made you feel like you were the one who was either brave or frivolous.

It's not like you two got closer over the weeks; you haven't even shared a word. You weren't ready to go talk to him; it was almost like a fantasy, but you were already too curious for him, almost glued to him, so you couldn't leave the beach while he was somewhere in the water. Call it embarrassing or romantic—it doesn't matter. He was still the son of Toruk Makto, and you were still just a weaver sitting on the sand. It was simple to bring all the materials onto the beach and hide the eyes behind the tapestry. He was learning how to ride an ilu once, which was pretty hilarious to be honest, but he knew you were there, and you knew that he knew, and this was calming. It's all about the looks: there were looks in the morning when you were arriving at your beach spot; there were looks in the evening when he was returning from his long distance swims; you two were always searching for each other's eyes, just to know, just to feel this kind of warmth and keep going. It was your little game in comfort, and it always ended with a win for both of you.

Soon or later, it started to hurt somewhere under the ribs, his apartness. You low-key felt like a traitor; your little staring game was unbreakable and already much more than you could ever dream of, but somehow it still wasn't enough, and you had no idea if this feeling was mutual. In this case, wouldn't he come? This silence started to get overwhelming; it was almost feral. You weren't the one; you never are. He might generously gift you these looks and still choose someone else—someone prettier and louder, someone with a brave and adventurous soul, someone who speaks instead of just looking.

But he saw you, you thought. Shouldn't it mean something?

You didn't come the next day. And the next too. It all felt too silly, and you decided that you had romanticized this whole experience much more than you should have. It's probably been a week or something; you just tried to come back to your life: quiet weaving at home, family dinners, learning, spending time alone with your thoughts. The tapestry was almost ready, though. You took it in your hands, finishing all the details, slowly sewing the ends, and adding the shells as buttons. It was wonderful, yet it still felt like a failure. You packed it under your pillow like the most hidden of secrets.

It was your birthday a few days later. Never a party, but rather a little celebration with the closest hearts around. You loved it quietly. You never expect a lot, just some little gifts, mother's meals, forehead kisses, and soft evenings inside the village. Nature greeted you as well. It was one of those sunsets in silence when everyone rested in their places and the island was a little liar for saying that it was all yours for tonight. Water greeted you respectfully, and air touched your face with the slightest kisses; you were a dreamer, and this planet loved you.

The village was turquoise, the warmest shade of the surrounding wet air. That's why this cold navy blue in front of your eyes almost got you tricked. Heart dropped immediately; for a second, you forgot you even had one. In the darkness, his skin was starting to glow a bit with these little sparking freckles, and you weren't just staring; you were stargazing him carefully. He was a cosmic boy, you remember.

And somehow, he came. It was him just in front of you, on your little secret birthday. You found it surprisingly easy - to look at his amber eyes once again like your gaze never leaved his, not for a second.

"You're here." You broke the silence. It was almost possible to hear the crack of the rules that were finally breaking.

"Let me know if coming here will ruin everything." He said. His voice was strong and yet trembling. "Let me know if it was already ruined."

Ruined?

If you only had an answer. It was dreamy, but yet so impossibly real. The tension could be touched and grabbed in your fist if you ever raised your hand. He was here and close enough to radiate warmth from his cold-shaded skin. Ruined? It's a farce. You were the one who put an end to this game, overwhelming and terrified of fear, and he came here equally terrified as you but infinitely braver.

Lips opened for a word, but came with nothing. You prayed for your eyes to say it all.

"I should have come earlier." Shaking his head, he said."It hurts to lose this certainty that if I turn around, I will meet your eyes there."

It hurts. It feels then, you thought. It feels then, and not only you were the one to feel.

And it's all about the way this boy speaks: expectedly tenderly. You always wondered what his voice sounded like.

"And yet it feels newly seeing you this close." You said, breaking for a little smile. It was boldly for you, but you felt happy to see him here, really did. It was a confirmation that he indeed felt the same way about you.

The sunset tried its hardest to shine brightest this moment, but it was overshadowed by the smile growing in front of you.

You said your names to each other right after. The bond made in your heads got a little stronger with this smallest step, and you loved his name endlessly—Neteyam sounded perfect for his indomitable spirit and such soft, tender eyes, and it felt even softer to say it out loud.

"It's your birthday." He said, dropping his gaze away from your eyes, probably for the first time in these minutes. "It's not the best, but I took some clothes from my village before coming here and now unraveled one of my capes because I never saw such color in your tapestries and Tsireya said that--"

"We don't have this pigment on our land." You finished.

He was holding his hands in front of you, and there was a beautiful skein of cold blue thread in them, navy as his skin but brighter than you've ever seen. It was the color of their nights, you thought, the shade their forest generously provided only for its citizen. And now you're the one who can take it as if you were one of them. It was lovely. Neteyam felt you without asking any questions. It left you breathless.

"How could you know? It's so perfect." It was a childlike awe in your tone that made him smile and look into your eyes once again. "Thank you."

You were scared to even breathe because this little gift felt so personal and let you know that he really cared and noticed, and he really tried to know you as well as he could, from the side, just like a watcher, just like you. You raised your eyes, and you knew they were shining.

"I have something for you as well." You told him. Neteyam looked confused, ears straightened quickly. "Please, just stay here."

"Hey, why would I leave?" He smiled wildly after failing at fake pouting. You loved how his eyes were surrounded by a few wrinkles in this moment. It was torture to turn your head away and go fast to your place.

It was near; you weren't far away, and you knew that he was waiting for you. It made you feel something real. It excited you. There were minutes, probably, funny or not: a few words to your parents, a few steps to your bed, a few moves to your pillow, grabbing the tapestry, and almost running back to him.

When you arrived, breathing barely, you looked at him with the silliest smile. You held it proudly in your hands, your heart racing. You remember finishing it hopelessly and feeling like you were just a fool for him, and now the soft material warmed your hands.

You were weaving him a cape at the same time he was unraveling his own for you.

It was in light marine colors, with threads of silver and bronze, a pattern reminding you of water, and glowing shells as buttons—truly good work. You weaved it with all your feelings for him, and it actually turned out to be the best tapestry you've ever made.

And it was so intimate—changing the gifts that connected so strongly without even knowing.

He went silent—not a silly joke, not a single laugh. Neteyam took it so carefully, like it was fragile. He didn't expect it, you could tell, and it was an intriguing show to watch, to notice all the changes in his mimicry and looks. So warmly. He looks at you so warmly all the time. He placed it on his shoulders slowly, putting the shell in the loop with one careful movement. Like a prince, you thought. His skin made the cape almost shine in the sunset lights.

"It's not my birthday today, you know?" He said.

"I know, but it's mine. Keep it if you want to cheer me up a little more than you already did."

He looked up at the colorful sky and laughed loudly. "You're perfect. And it's the work of art that I didn't deserve but that I will definitely be carrying with me till the end. Thank you." He lowered his head back at you. "Thank you."

Making him happy. That's all you wanted after this moment.

You both sat on the sand, and the conversation finally felt natural and unhurried; he was the sweetest and shyest person you could ever imagine.

You were the one to break this shy wall between you two and tell him honestly that you did, in fact, miss him and that you were, in fact, coming to the beach just to see him. He laughed softly and placed his hand on your head compulsively, probably because of the oldest brother's habit of messing up his siblings' hair, but took it off immediately. You wouldn't mind, though. His accidental touches were giving butterflies.

He was honest as well; you believe that he was always honest, but it was still surprising to hear him tell you about all these feelings you two shared but both had no idea you did. You were a little poet with threads as words for him. He felt it somehow—maybe it was some kind of connection or just admiration—but watching you alone with something you love was beautiful. It was natural; you were on your own and never complained about it. That's why he never talked to you; he was afraid to ruin something in this idyll, break your comfort zone, and lose the opportunity to look at you every other day. But you were always looking back, and that gave him this blind courage to come here. He didn't know your name, he never asked. He could just go to Tsireya or anyone, but he liked to keep you as his little secret. Neteyam was not embarrassed to publicize his little addiction; he simply loved the intimacy of it all. And it was passionate; you felt the same kind of desire to keep this away from everyone in order to keep it as magical as it had always been.

You couldn't dream of this answer. He gave you much more than you thought you ever deserved.

And he was perfect in the darkened skies; it felt like they were trying to make him glow as much as possible. It was a moment when you raised your hand carefully after your conversation stopped in the comfortable, soft silence, and it was almost possible to hear the sound of the air cutting under your palm; everything was slow.

You touched one of his sparkling freckles between his eyes, stopping their light. His skin was satin. It was as warm as his gaze, much warmer than how this cold-shaded skin was looking. He stared at you so intensely—nobody has looked at you like this.

Nobody has ever seen you like this.

Your fingers moved by themselves, braver than you ever were, going down, remembering all the caves on his face, the silhouette of his nose, the little pit above his trembling lips. They stopped there, covering his mouth with the slightest touch. Neteyam was watching your eyes following this way. You knew the night was hypnotized as well; the clouds were completely still in the skies, looking down at both of you.

You moved forward impulsively. It was a moment; you lost yourself, and your eyes closed without your permission. Blame the date; you had a few minutes before your birthday ends and it was the courage that fogged your mind. Or it's just him: beautiful, beautiful cosmic boy under your skin with an intense gaze and the warmest amber in his eyes.

And you kissed the tips of your fingers like there were just his lips uncovered for you. So close. So "almost". You didn't see it, but you felt it—he flinched, his hot breath burned your fingers, and he opened his mouth a little, instinctively.

The moment got stuck. Time could get faster or just stop; you wouldn't tell. It was just your noses touching, shared loud breathing, and trembling fingers between you two, like the strongest and largest barrier you've ever felt. You had no right for more, you wouldn't ask for it. It was the closest you could get, and you slowly tried to move back to face reality. But he caught you. He caught you, like he always does. His fingers wrapped around your wrist so fast and tightly, almost scared, that you couldn't help but open your eyes in a daze and meet this melting amber.

You couldn't forget the way he looked at you—in awe. Conserved sparkles in this gaze because of fear of hurting you, grip relaxing around your wrist. He nearly told you with his eyes: "Let me." Fingers moved higher to meet yours, carefully fitting between, where your lips almost touched.

He nearly asked you with his hand: "Please."

Was there any other answer you could give him instead of yes? You closed your eyes slowly, sipping down your entwined fingers, and it was louder than any of your possible words.

He kissed you.

Blindly and passionately, as if nothing else mattered more than your lips on his, your holding hands under your chins, your little gasp after he finally touched you in ways you both couldn't even imagine. It was forbidden, and yet so freeing—a little secret that got you both breathless. He moved slowly, taking his time on you, and it was so intimate that you felt the goosebumps running down your back. His other hand covered the back of your neck, trying to be closer—the closest he could ever get. It's doubly that he could at this moment; you wanted him somewhere under your skin. Glued permanently like a tattoo.

The seeingless line between, the little navy blue thread on your fingers, the gazes that could find each other even in the most crowded of streams—there was something so real tying you both together. Knotting like a weaved braid.

It was something real and beautiful, the way your lips perfectly fitted, breaths combined, and skin smoothly touched each other.

He torturously, unbearably moved away in an instant, breathing heavily on your lips, your foreheads touching. Leaving a little peck on the corner of your lips before talking: "You should teach me." He took your entwined hands on the material of his weaved cape.

You laughed softly, making a little effort to bring his hand back to your face: "You would be much better in it with this extra finger your siblings have." You said, kissing his palm and hearing him chuck.

"Indeed. But I have much more motivation to learn than all of them."

"Yeah? Always wanted to weave?" Your lips were still on his fist, touching his skin anytime you talked or smiled through it.

"Always wanted to have a reason to be around you." He said unexpectedly seriously. You found it quite adorable; this boy was pure in his feelings for you, and this is all you ever desired. You put your lips back on his, kissing him softly instead of answering.

He's got all the reasons to be around now, and you both knew it. Before it got too dark and late, he was kissing your face everywhere, leaving some silly playful pecks on your forehead and cheeks through the smile, holding your face tightly with his palms.

The comeliest of aliens that came from the place with mountains that saw no ground, he was just about to show you all the altitudes, and you were ready to fly the highest with him if he ever asked you. You both were laughing and finally felt so free with all the unhidden feelings you both tried to hide.

"Cosmic boy." You whispered between his little kisses, and you knew he adored it.

And it felt lovely to let yourself be happy.

#neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x oc #neteyam fic #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar twow #avatar imagine #avatar fic #avatar x reader

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jellys-compendium · 4 months

Text

V - SFW Alphabet

Rating: T

Cw: none A/n: Here are some SFW thoughts on our poetic, melancholic, and edgy boy, V. This was a lot of fun and I was happy to show him some love.

V - NSFW Alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

V is selective with whom he shows his affection, whether it be platonic or romantic. V is not overtly affectionate overall, but he does show care and concern for the people that he deeply treasures. How V shows his affection is also subtle, but at the same time can be a little dorky and poetic. Scribbling you little poems and sticking them in places for you to find later, gently wrapping his fingers around yours whenever the two of you are standing close, staying up late with you into the night just so he can spend more time talking with you. These are the ways V shows his affections.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

V is one of those quiet best friends that you don't really know everything about, but still share that deep sense of trust with. He is that kind of best friend that you could simultaneously share deep conversations with or sit with him in silence for hours without it feeling awkward. The two of you just enjoy being in each other's presence. As for how a friendship with V would start, I think it would spark either due to similar interests, or there is something about you that V just finds alluring.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

V does like to cuddle, although you wouldn't find this out well into the relationship. V adores the feeling of your warm skin against his and the softness of your embrace. When V is comfortable with you, he's not at all shy about cuddling, and he will happily wrap you in his arms and pull you close whenever you ask. V also loves it when you cuddle him back. To him, the soothing feeling of your hands gently stoking up and down his back is sweeter than any prose.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I imagine that V has secret little fantasies about settling down. While he doesn't often get much time to think about it, whenever he sees you happily engaging in one of your domestic chores or hobbies, he always gets that little pang of longing in his heart. Some nights he dreams about stealing you away to a place where he can have you all to himself. A place where it can just be the two of you peacefully living together. When it comes to household chores, I'm going to be totally honest, V is not really the best at these things. He's often aloof when it comes to chores and the man can't cook to save his life.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

V would be heartbroken, but in the end I think he would be straightforward about it. I don't imagine him abandoning a partner without saying something. Likely, V would pull you aside to tell you that his feelings have changed and that he's ending things. However, if he's doing it to protect you, I can see the breakup being very teary and messy. V would be so torn, but his willpower is formidable and if he's set his mind on protecting you, then that's exactly what he's going to do.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Oh this man is committed. Once V realizes that he loves you, that's it. His body, heart, and soul are yours. Whether or not that means he will share his life with you in the traditional sense, is another thing. Being who he is, there are many obstacles in the way, but that won't stop V from adoring you, even if it's from afar. As for marriage, I think that V isn't particularly one to jump into such a thing right away. He probably would only do it to make you happy. To V, the feelings he harbors for you in his heart are far purer and more powerful a reflection of how much he treasures you. I have to say though, he would write the most beautiful and tear jerking wedding vows.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

V is a gentle soul, both physically and emotionally. His touches feel like the cool summer breeze, his kisses are like velvet, and his voice is like the morning sun trickling in through curtains. Emotionally, V is quite introspective and sensitive towards both you and himself. V always seems to have a sixth sense about how you're feeling and will comfort you however he can when you need it.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

V is not really the biggest fan of hugs (except those coming from you of course). I wouldn't say that he outright hates them, but he feels awkward and doesn't really know how to feel or respond whenever he receives them from others. V's hugs are very soft and gentle. He's not one to wrap you in a lung splitting bear hug. Instead, he elects to gingerly wrap his arms around you and pull you into a comfortable embrace.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Saying those three little words "I love you" out loud takes V a very, very long time. V knows he has fallen in love with you long ago, but funnily enough even though he is lover of words, he can't seem to ever find the right time to say it aloud. Instead, V tells you that he loves you through his poetry. The breathtaking verses he writes in which he so tenderly and carefully illustrates the depths of his love for you, speaks more than those three words ever could.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Jealousy is not an unknown beast to V. This man does have a tendency to get jealous of those who possess the qualities, relationships, or life he desires. However, being as introspective as V is, he does come to realize this about himself and so will strive to have it affect his actions as minimally as possible. If V were to ever get jealous over someone trying to steal your attention and/or affection from him, I can see V mostly being quiet about it. But that acidic bile will seep into his tone, the sharpness of his gaze, and the harshness of his words. Luckily, it usually only takes a comforting word from you to pull V out of it.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

V's kisses are as ever changing and moving as the clouds in the sky. Sometimes his kisses are soft and tender. Other times they are passionate and desperate. V's kisses are a mirror of the emotions in his heart, and while he can control his words and mannerisms for the most part, V finds he has a difficult time concealing how he really feels whenever he kisses you. That being said, V loves to kiss you. It's his favorite way of physically showing his affection towards you. With reverent lips V adorns your mouth, hands, throat, shoulders--every inch of you he can reach with worshipping kisses. As for where V likes to be kissed, he always melts whenever you kiss his cheek. There is just something so pure and loving about those kisses that makes his heart squeeze pleasantly in his chest.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

I'm going to be honest, I don't think that V is all that great around children. His solitary and more introverted nature makes him come across as standoffish and that doesn't always lend well to his interactions with young people. In addition, V can come across as unempathetic when a child is whining over something. However that being said, there is a rare breed of child that finds V's mysterious aura intriguing, and they will often seek him out just to talk with him or listen to him read. They are intrigued by him, and he in turn is intrigued by them. The way V's voice softens and the tiny little smile that pulls at his lips whenever he is around those particular little ones is one of the sweetest things you've ever seen.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

V is absolutely not a morning person. Rising with the dawn he does not. Typically, if you want to get V up in the early hours of the morning, you will have to roll him out of bed. That or bribe him with multitudes of kisses. If V had his way, he would spend every single day cuddling under the warm blankets with you until noon. The demons can wait.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

V's a night owl. He likes the quiet hours best, and finds the peaceful solitude of that time both inspiring and comforting. V enjoys spending nights relaxing with you. Lounging on the couch with you curled up in his arms as he reads you poetry. The nights he gets to spend with you like that are his favorites.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

V is guarded to a certain extent, but he also has a vulnerable side to him. V will keeps things about himself hidden at the start of any relationship he has, but once that bridge of trust has been built, he is surprisingly quick to open up. He genuinely wants to make meaningful connections with the people he cares about. In your relationship with him specifically, V started to open up to you once he realized that he could trust you with his feelings and fears.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It takes effort to anger V...with a few exceptions. He maintains a cool calmness most of the time and he is very much of the "live and let live" mindset. However if finds himself facing something that reminds him of the trauma he has endured, or if you are harmed in anyway, V's anger erupts. With the help of his familiars, V will tear the target of his anger to pieces.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Ohohoho. Listen. V remembers every single little absolute minute detail about you. Is there something that you mentioned in the briefest of passings 7 months ago? He'll remember it like it was yesterday. V adores you, and he is diligent in committing to memory the little details and intricacies that make you, you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

V doesn't have a specific moment that he considers a favourite over others, because he treasures every single moment with you. V knows that he's not long for this world in his current state, so he savours every glance, every word, every touch, and every second that he gets to spend with you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Very protective to say the least. V will put himself between you and harms way without a shred of doubt. The unfortunate thing is that V isn't exactly in the most ideal position to protect you from the powerful demonic threats that the two of you face. His body is decaying and he is vulnerable without the help of his familiars. This bothers him exceptionally. When it comes to himself being protected, V won't turn down help when he needs it. But he would be lying if he didn't say it burned him deep inside. In his heart, he feels he should be the one protecting you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

V likes to put in effort into his gestures of affection. While he is not one for grandiose displays, V does very much enjoy showering you with small little tokens of his love for you each and every day. Slipping a flower between the pages of the book you were reading, going on a date to a place with beautiful scenery for the two of you to admire, leaving little love notes and poems for you to find, dancing with you to the melody of a sonata. V loves you above all things and he wants to make you feel cherished and appreciated.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Unfortunately, V doesn't take very good care of himself. Lets be honest, his sleeping habits are terrible, he doesn't eat much or drink enough water, and he is continuously pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion. Thank goodness he at least bathes and is good in the hygiene department.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

I think V is vain to a certain extent. He does want to look good and charismatic (at least to your eyes). However, I should say that he's not so vain that V would sacrifice anything important for the sake of his looks.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Without a doubt. V is a sentimental man. If you were to ever leave, he would feel like a part of himself left with you. A part that V knows he'll never recover so long as he is without you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Underneath the mysterious, edgy boy layer, V surprisingly has a dorky sense of humor. He often makes inside corny jokes with you and will reference them on occasion while in the company of others. V loves making you laugh with a private little joke the two of you share, and he is not in the least bit bothered with the confused glances the others send his way.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

I think that V is adverse to people who are extravagantly loud, brutish, and/or abrasive. People who have no moments of quiet, or who have no sense of appreciation for literature, music, and art. While V doesn't necessarily hate these personality types, he finds he doesn't have the energy to be around those kind of people for very long.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

As I indicated before, V has absolutely terrible sleeping habits. He typically doesn't sleep more than a few hours at a time, and when he does his sleep, he is quite restless. Nightmares are common, as is him jolting awake in the middle of the night covered in a cold sweat. Since sharing a bed with you however, V has found that being able to feel the warmth of your body beside his has helped to ease his mind considerably. And even if he has a bad night, V will ask you to help him make up for it by dozing with you through the mornings.

sfw alphabet template

#devil may cry #dmc 5 #v dmc5 #v #dmc v x reader #dmc v x you #v x reader #v x you #jellywrites

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auroradragon · 1 year

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Frontier - Alejandro Vargas x Reader (Smut)

When I say I needed. I mean NEEDED an Alejandro x Reader smut. I'm so down bad for this man. In my fantasy, I've already imagined us having a whole ass family. Since there were so few Alejandro x Reader ff, I took it into my own hands. I also apologize, I've never posted smut before so please bare with me. Also why the fuck is this man SOOOO underrated. I love him SO MUCH

Summary: When group 141 and Los Vaqueros were betrayed by the shadows that you were considered close with, you rebelled against them as soon as Alejandro was knocked out. It didn't matter that you and Alejandro had a ridiculous rivalry. You still went down with him. Even while you had an odd relationship with Graves, you still chose to go against him. You were taken into custody along with Alejandro and were triggered into a manic breakdown while in the cell the two of you shared. You and Alejandro became close ever since.

Warnings: Smut, jealousy, competition, violence, PTSD, Trauma, Mental breakdowns, cursing, Alejandro being hot asf, etc.

Gif created by icaxrus on Tumblr

You entered your room with no emotion but rage. Your duffle bag lay open on your bed, still with uniform and clothing in the bag. You had multiple items like pencils and mementos you'd collected from your travels. But you just stare at them with utter disgust, it was nothing against what you owned, but all that was racing through your mind was the prison you, Alejandro, and his group were sent to, while Soap and Ghost barely got away. Not to mention how a shadow shot Soap. Then there was the personal betrayal between you and Philip

You had always told the men in your group that one of these days the emotions they hide away will come out, and it's not a matter of if it'll happen, it's a matter of when.

And for you, it happened in the prison, in front of Alejandro, he had no fucking idea what was going on. You screamed in your cell after going through a reaction from PTSD, you were having intense flashbacks and were put into a manic breakdown

To be honest with yourself, you could hardly remember what set you off, it felt like someone took a clip from the moment and deleted it. The little you could remember was a soldier whispering in your ear that he wished he could have his way with you, but couldn't because to Graves, you were off limits.

You'd struggled with a traumatic event a few years ago that led you to the state you were in, which was what set off the reaction you had and how the visions of that day and event kept playing through your mind like a fucking nightmare.

You were tossed into the cell and fell on your side with uncontrollable sobs. Alejandro was irritated at first, telling you to get up. He was always a hardass towards you, really you believed he hated you. But after a while, he soon realized it wasn't a joke and you were having a serious mental issue.

You look back at it now and thought about how that was probably the first time the two of you had an actual connection, the first time he'd been nice to you.

How he looked at you when you were terrified,

How he convinced you to sit up,

and when you did, he held you for a few minutes until your hyperventilation and tears stopped

How you two looked at each other from opposite walls, sitting on the freezing stone floor, his arms crossed as he sighs.

How he asked if you wanted to talk about it.

How you wanted to tell him what you lived with and what you had gone through, but... Knew it just wasn't the right time, and it may never be.

When the two of you made it back to a safehouse after the prison escape, Alejandro sat you down with him. Your lips and eye bags were puffed from the breakdown. He walked over to you with two mugs of coffee in hand.

"I think I'd need a real drink after this" He implied his taste for alcohol. He took his seat across from you at the small table. You met his eyes as he grinned the slightest bit. You wondered how a man could have such a pretty smile. You smiled a bit at his joke in return before taking a sip of your black coffee.

He swirls his coffee in the mug before looking back at you with curiosity invading his eyes.

"You still don't want to talk about what happened, Frontier?" You don't look back at him, instead, you shake your head 'no'

"Hm, okay" He sighs.

"Did you want to talk about Graves?" That caught your attention. Your eyes darted to his brown ones.

"There's nothing to talk about," You said just above a whisper. You take a sip of your coffee while warming up your cold hands like he never said anything.

"Señorita, don't do this," His voice was husked with his Spanish accent with a dead serious face. He placed his mug down lightly and placed his arms along the table to make himself bigger.

"I know that you and Graves..." He took a moment to find the right words, but you already knew there were no right words in this situation. Your glare was now present from irritation

"... Have a complicated relationship" His face remains serious and his gaze digs into your soul.

"....I told you I'm not a shadow" Your head tilted and your brows raised, but Alejandro kept staring at you like you were a fucking idiot.

"I'm not talking about if you were a shadow or not, I'm talking about if you had a.... personal... relationship," He clicks his tongue.

"I'm a traitor to them! What more do you want from me?!" The chair being pushed back as you stood dent a blood-curdling noise around the room.

"Tell me what the fuck your relationship was with Graves!" He stood up right after you.

"I-I don't know why this matters" You start laughing, but your eyes are glossed from forming tears.

"Y/N" He finally calmly said. It was the first time you'd heard your first name come out of his mouth. He only ever called you by Frontier, although he was also the only person in the group who knew your first and last name.

The truth was though, you and Philip were just fuck buddies, but nights after you lie next to him and wish that you two were more. You never knew Philips's feelings towards you, but you wanted him to like you as much as you liked him. Deep down though you knew it was never meant to be, and that you were just extremely lonely. The man was a walking red flag, yet you found yourself daydreaming about him.

But when you started knowing it wasn't a possibility, you took notice of Alejandro, he was definitely not the nicest person to you, but something about his aura kept drawing you towards him. You didn't know if it was his looks, his humor, or the way you just knew how much of a good person he was. You picked up on things about him and aligned them with ideas about him as a person. You imagined him to be extremely romantic, so much so that the things he'd do would be such a cliché, but you found it cute, really. But your heart sank when you realized how much you gained a liking for Alejandro.

When you were set back to the reality of what Alejandro was assuming, you knew didn't need this right now. You'd just recovered from a panic attack, and now all you could think of was Grave's betrayal. You just wanted a break, or a moment to sit and align all your emotions in a row instead of them being thrown at you continuously with no chance to think straight. So before you or Alejandro said anything else, you walked away from the table and to your assigned dorm. Alejandro stood in the same spot but watched as you walked down the hall.

After your panic attack in the prison was when Alejandro was put into a position where he could confront his own feelings toward you. Since you two met on the U.S-Mexico border, he dreaded you being a part of their group, seeing as he already didn't like shadows and really just assumed you were one too because you were American.

Alejandro kept a rivalry between the two of you, but over time he started noticing little things you do. How you bite your lip when you're in deep thought, the way your eyes flutter to keep yourself awake on the plane or the heli, the way you listened to the others in the group so well, the ways your eyes trailed all over him, and how you were always the first to ask if someone was okay. He didn't know why he cared so much but he began to think about you, day and night.

He'd be concerned and wonder if you were okay if you two weren't together. He wanted his eyes on you all the time. But his mind would trail back to Valeria's betrayal. He was heartbroken when he found out it was her, an ex-army partner, who turned against everything he stood for, it destroyed everything he knew about her, and every bit of trust against anyone who could be something of a friend or partner to him. In a way, he knew exactly what it felt like, with what was happening between you and Graves.

But when you were wrapped in his arm, shaking, and bawling, especially from you, he never wanted to let go. He memorized your scent and the way you felt, the way you fit in his arms, but what stood out to him the most was that after how rude he was to you and how much he pushed you away, you still trusted him enough to hold you and that you didn't stop him from holding you

That was the moment he realized that he was in love.

The anger spread through your body. Your shoulders were tense, and your eyes prick with tears that dared to come out. Who does he think he is? Asking that about you and Graves? You don't know why, but you just start picking up items around your room, your clothing, then empty items to clear the way, as a form of coping to clean a bit. You noticed in a cleaner room; you were able to think much better. Your mind was distracted from your mental attack and how much you grieved about Graves.

You heard your door swing open and hit the wall while doing so, it was so loud, you thought it broke a hole into the wall. “Get the fuck out of here!” You yelled not knowing who it was, not that you cared anyways. You spun your head around to see a shadow looming over you from the hall light that seeped into the midnight-black room. Alejandro might as well have teleported from where he stood because he was up to your figure before you’d even moved your body to face him.

“Alejandro get out-”

“No no no” His voice was low and husk

“You don’t get to walk away in the middle of a conversation señorita” His grin was filled with hate and not a single ounce of happiness. He grasps your chin into his slender yet large hand. You grew agitated, knowing how Alejandro gets sometimes when he’s angry, his smile is like the calm before a fucking hurricane. You whimpered as he grasped harder. This was the only time the phrase ‘I smile when I get angry’ should ever be taken seriously.

“Please” Your eyes grew heavy with the shorter breaths you took

“PLEASE answer my fucking question” Alejandro was so close; you felt his hot breath hit your lips.

“Did you fuck Graves? Did you sleep with the enemy?” He mumbles in your ear, slips touching ever so gently, yet his slender hands still grasping your chin.

“Let go of me” You voice was stone cold, it even shocked Alejandro enough for him to let go and give you an inch of room.

“I see how you look at Valeria-” You glare at him

Alejandro lets out a strained laugh, dark eyes digging into your soul. He turns his back to you and shakes his hand through his raven hair.

“I don’t know if you two have more than a friendship in your history, but there is something there” You spit.

“Valeria is nothing to me! hasn’t been for a long time” He spits back. Your eyes relax from his words for a split second before your brows furrow again.

“Same with Graves! So, what makes you think you have any right to say that shit?!” Your slipped calm face was back to an aggressive one.

“You can't sit here and tell me whatever I did was right or wrong. You can’t just assume shit and, and-”

Alejandro grasped the back of your head, hands curling into your hair. His eyes open slightly as he pressed his lips against yours. His scruff beard rubbed against your chin and his hand reached up to your face again, this time gentler and more passionate. It felt like minutes but was realistically only a second long.

You stood not knowing what to say before wiping his saliva off your mouth and glancing from the floor back to his face from anxiety. You could FEEL the heat on your face, and you knew he felt it too. You bit your lip hard and finally looked back up to him.

“... What-What was that for”

“...Are you mad at me.” He doesn’t really ask, but says it more like a statement.

You look at the ground again

“... No” You admitted before looking up at him with your chin down, with wide eyes

“Don’t look at me like that”

“Why?” You ask, but you knew exactly what you were doing but playing innocent.

“Are you mad at me” You have no idea where the fuck your courage came from but you stepped close to him and placed your lips on his this time. Your hands trailed from his neck up to both sides of his jaw. His hands found a perch on your hips

“mierda” He silently groans as he walks backwards to the door with you still against his body. He throws the door closed and fumbles with the lock. It's so dark in your room but Alejandro didn’t intend for it to stay like that for long. He wanted to eat up everything about the way you looked, he wanted to fuck you in the light where he can memorize every part of your body. After a few moments of you kissing him against the door with pleading breaths leaving his mouth when your lips found his neck and sucked lightly. He pulled your ass in so you'd get closer to him, letting you whimper as you felt his erection coming from his cargos. When you looked up at him, his eyes were overflowing with lust. He stops what you’re doing before now pushing you towards your bed that lies in the corner of the room. He sits up over you and reaches for the bedside table to fumble with the lamp.

“I um I don’t...” You stutter underneath him, suddenly getting insecure. The light flicked on and he took a moment to examine every detail of your face.

“Please,” He grabs one of your hands and places a gentle kiss on it while looking down at you for your approval. Yup, you were right, this guy was one for cheesy romance, in no way were you complaining about it though. You turn your head to the side from embarrassment.

“The light is fine” You mumble but just enough for him to hear. When you look back at him, you sit up to his level and plant a kiss on his lips, he places your head back onto the pillow while still kissing your now swollen lips.

“Fuck look at what you do to me cariño” He grunts as he grabs your hand to place it on the bulge of his pants. You gasp at the feeling of it against your hand. You raise your other hand and fumble with the buttons. He grips your hands with his own to stop you.

“What...” Your brows furrowed with confusion before his hands started unbuttoning your own pants. You saw how lightly his veined hands messed with your own cargos.

“Alejandro~” You wined

“Sé paciente,” He kissed your jaw to shut you up, while still attempting to get your pants unbuttoned.

He successfully pulled them down enough to see your panties soaked through. He sat up to admire the view.

“Take a picture while you're at it” You blushed in embarrassment, even through your bold facade.

“Oh, I will, cariño. But only after I've fucked you” Your cunt clenches around nothing as his words hit your core. He hears how desperate you are with each short and heavier breath that comes out of your mouth.

He slides your panties down with your pants. Your thighs clench as soon as the cold air touches the most sensitive area. He places a hand in-between your thighs in retaliation and spreads them back apart.

"Keep them open" All you could think about is how attractive his accent is. You sit up and tug on his long sleeve black shirt

"Take it off, please~" You whimper, needing him to touch you.

"As you wish princesa" He grins as you begged under his touch. He throws his shirt across the room and rises over you. You're in utter awe of this man's build. Vaines were present in his arms, even if he wasn't flexing, he had a surprisingly thin waist and sleek abs. You swear this man was built by God's hands themselves.

He moves back down and takes a leg. He starts kissing it from your calves, his nails dig into your leg as he leaves hickies on every inch he’s kissed. You felt goosebumps trail all over your lower body as he came up to your knees, then outer thighs, then inner thighs. Your face was burning up, your throat closed in, and your eyes dared to close.

"Now," He says as he raises a kiss to your jaw.

"Are you okay with it going further?" He whispers in your ear and his lips teasing your skin.

"Fuck. Y-Yes" You felt yourself shaking already. He lets out an amused chuckle through his nose

"Alright then princesa" He moves back down to your lower half and continues where he left off. He kept sucking your inner thigh, slowly getting closer to your cunt. He takes a look at you for reassurance. You aggressively nod your head and with that, he starts kissing your slick folds, without warning he starts sucking on your clit, and hard. Your head drops back onto the pillow as you let out a moan.

"Aleja- Fuck" You feel him grin as he continues to lick and suck your clit. You moan into your arm remembering how thin the walls are in the room, not wanting anyone in the other room to hear. He takes his finger and puts it into your now dripping pussy that ached for attention. With one finger he lightly plunged it in and further. You already felt like you were about to cum but he took the moment to put in another finger and curl his fingers along the walls of your cunt. His thumb replaced where his lips were on your cunt. He started licking the area of your cunt that weren't already taken care of by his fingers.

"Don't be shy, cum in my mouth "

Your hand went from the sheets to his polished back hair. He groaned as you pulled, feeling the vibrations from his deep groan, sent you over the edge. Your legs shook around him and you were starting to lose the ability to hold in your moans. The man didn't stop until you finished cumming. You lie there breathless, and beads of sweat rolling down your forehead already. He moved up to meet your eyes again.

You place a hand on his face, and he moved down to kiss you. You felt so dirty, tasting yourself on his tongue, but you fucking loved it. You moaned into his mouth before cussing.

"Jesus- I've never finished so fucking quick-" You say stunned.

"Don't tell me you're getting tired now" He teases as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck.

"Me? Never" You looked back up at him with determination in your eyes. You felt his clothed cock press against your swollen clit. You whimper as you feel every inch of the fabric press against you.

"Good, 'cause we're just getting started" He simply says before sitting up to unzip his pants. You sit up as you watch how shiny his tan skin is from the sweat. His thick brows furrow as he gets frustrated with the pants. You just sat there for a moment, taking advantage of seeing the most beautiful man on earth in front of you. He gets the zipper undone and you watch as he pulls his cock out.

"O-Oh- Uhm" You out a hand over your mouth as you keep staring.

"You don't want to go any further? I can stop" He says with zero hesitation

"F-Fuck no, it's just... Big..." Your eyes meet his lustful ones.

"I can't wait anymore cariño" He sighs as he nuzzles into your neck one more time before shifting himself between your thighs. He grips your thighs, nails digging into your skin, but you find it exciting. He places his hands next your head. Your hands snake up his chest. He feels shudders run up from his core. Your hand is placed on his cheek as you give him a look of adoration.

"Are your ready for this, princesa?" He asks.

"Y-Yes" You stutter. It's strange to you because you've never been this shy when it came to Graves, he doesn't make you feel the way Alejandro makes you feel.

Alejandro slides his hand up from your pelvic bone and up to your chest. You feel his slick cock, already dripping with pre-cum barely touching your lips and your body is already trembling with shaky breath following after. He slowly puts it in with a grunt.

"Mierda~ Ah, you're so tight" His hands grip the sheets under you, and your hands involuntarily grip his biceps which gives a grin out of him. When he's completely inside, he lets you catch your breath. Without hesitation he takes it halfway out and thrusts himself back in, hitting your walls hard. You moan from the sudden action and grip his biceps so hard you swear your nails were drawing blood. He grunts with every continuing thrust.

You become a moaning mess with every thrust he gave, and your hips bucking up had become an unconscious reflex. You feel your hips and thighs cramp from the flexing, so Alejandro pushes you down to prevent you from moving your hips.

"Ale~" You whine.

"Does Graves ever make you feel this good?"

"H-Huh?" He enjoys seeing you so fucked up that you can't even comprehend what he's saying

"Baby," He grabs you chin to make you look at him while he still fucks you dry.

"Has he ever made you feel this good?" He becomes so much more dominant as soon as he brings Graves up again.

You shake your head no

"Say it then," He says with trembling breath. Your core tightens knowing how fucking jealous he gets.

"No baby, no he's never made me feel this good~" You smile as your core tightens knowing you're going to cum with him. He feels how close you are, and he's not far behind either.

"I'm all yours Alejandro, please be mine~" You beg under him. His eyes widen as you pull your arms around him into an embrace. He picks you up into his lap. He stares up at you as he rubs your thighs.

You lift yourself up, but its hard at first because of how bad your legs shake over him. You settle your hands on his bulky shoulders and put yourself into a fluid movement on top of him. He digs his face into the crook of your neck and kisses down to your breast.

"You're all fucking mine, and I'm all yours," He says as he smiles whilst looking up at you. His hands slide all over your body. His groans start turning into moans and it ignites a fire in you, that you didn't even know existed. With half lids showing, you admire how he looks underneath you.

"I'm ganna-" You start

"I know. Me too." He finishes your sentence

You finally let out the coil you've been building up for minutes. The orgasm your felt left aftershocks. Your legs kept shaking and trembling. Your sweaty head falls on Alejandro's own forehead. He finished inside of you, still thrusting out both of your orgasms. His hand finds the crape of your neck under your wet hair. He looks at you through his long lashes, and he swore to God, hes never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.

"estoy tan enamorado de ti" He whispers

"Huh?" You ask with your brain still recovering from the stimulation

"Nothing," He says before he lies back down on the bed with you still on top of him. You left yourself up and drop next to him. You turn to your side and curl into him, resting a head on his chest. He plants a kiss on your forehead before trying to get up.

You sit up confused as you watch him walk around the room naked. He puts his underwear and cargos back on. You look away, thinking you just made a mistake.

"Frontier!" He yells and you look back at him with a chunk of your clothes in his large hands, he throws them at you and you catch them with a confused look in your eyes.

"Come on" He says as he finishes putting the rest of his clothes back on. He stands along the wall as you get dressed, staring at you.

"Stop being a perv" You finish and smack him on the ribs.

He grabs a hold of your waist and pulls you into him for a kiss

"amor de mi vida"

You look up at him this time understanding what he said. You had a glowing smile on your face.

"Mi amor" You kissed him again.

....

A.N -

This is the first smut I've ever posted, so I'm sorry if it literally sucks. Also if you can't tell I didn't take a Spanish class, unfortunately, I didn't take German either, I took mother fucking Japanese, and I kind of regret not learning Spanish but you know, it's whatever. Anyways I'm so sorry if I messed up the Spanish bits, I didn't use the most reliable source, cause I used Google Translate. But if you made it to the end, thank you smmmm and I love you!

#alejandro mw2 #alejandro vargas #modern warfare #call of duty mw2 #modern warfare 2 #cod #call of duty #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x you #y/n #smut #call of duty smut #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare 2

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personasintro · 2 years

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crazy | jjk drabble

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; your boyfriend comes with an idea

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader, jungkook x f!character

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, cheating au

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, threesome, protected & unprotected sex, oral sex (f. and m.), cheating

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.2k+

a/n: commissioned

The two of you were always a little crazy. Your friends told you that many times on different occasions, never meant to be an insult but more of a teasing observation. They said you and Jungkook were always meant to be. Each other's soulmate. Compatible. Like a puzzle clicking into one massive perfectly shaped piece.

You and him would always try new things.

Non-sexual and sexual.

It made your relationship eventful and never boring. You both preferred it that way. But it has always been just you and him, because that's how it is in most cases.

So when Jungkook came up with a new idea how to spice up your sex life once again, you were open to listen to him. You do not like sharing which totally goes against the threesome idea he randomly told you about while cuddling you, having post sex conversation. But somehow at that moment, the thought seemed to be hot. You both talked through various scenarios of how you would be able to do this with someone who could be trusted. In the end, you agreed for it not to be another man. You do not want another man.

This is purely about sex and sex fantasy.

The thought of seeing Jungkook with another woman seemed hot in a way. It sounds bizarre but you're the one who's in a relationship with him. It's just sex. You've had a fuck buddy before Jungkook and it was always just sex between you and him. And this is only one time thing. It's something you both agreed to try.

And as Jungkook suggested someone, a woman named Aria who happens to be his co-worker, you were a little skeptical.

“She fucks you and then you keep seeing her in work.”

That's what you told him, not sounding angry at all but being honest which you've always been with him.

After a lot of reassurance, saying he knows you both can trust her, you've ended up nodding to this idea and even feel slightly excited. You have the power. Jungkook is yours.

He's been wanting to change his job anyways. There's a high chance he won't even see her in a year.

Under the hotel's room lights, because there's no way you're going to do this in your and Jungkook's bed or home, her hair looks thick and shiny. Her skin is soft and delicate but she holds a sense of dominance in her gaze.

You've never seen another woman naked in front of your eyes. But as Jungkook locks your lips and averts your eyes from her to him, you allow yourself to close them and welcome the sensation of his soft and skilful lips. He feels like home, adding security and love to your heart. It's like it's just you and him.

Until the kiss breaks and Jungkook motions for her to follow you to bed. She's already naked, clean and no hair in sight as she seems to be perfectly ready for this occasion. So are you. You've been preparing the whole day for this. Both nervosity and excitement escort you even to this moment.

She's confident, from the way she walks to the moment she joins you in the bed. You watch your boyfriend rank his eyes over her exposed body, keeping his eyes neutral as the thoughts of insecurity never cross your mind. Jungkook always makes sure you know how much he loves and appreciates your body. He never allows you to feel insecure because he fills you with so much love.

You and him had a conversation about your boundaries. You had only one requirement and that is – no kissing. Well, a part of using condom during this time but that's kind of obvious.

You all have drank a few drinks – you're not sure if you would be able to relax without at least a small amount of alcohol. It wasn't enough drinks to make you drunk or tipsy, but you're glad you went for it because it certainly made you more relaxed and allowed you to enjoy this moment rather than overthink it. You're not the overthinking type. You and Jungkook float smoothly like a single boat on a wide sea.

Still, this is something you've never done nor experienced before.

Watching him getting to know her body, one hand on her breast while he makes sure his other hand is preoccupied with your breast. But he stares at you, those warm eyes filled with lust and little craziness you both have, you relax even more into his touch. Everything progresses smoothly, not too slow and not too quick. Jungkook controls everything and makes sure to keep his eyes mostly on you, almost as if he's checking if you're okay with this.

It's odd because you acknowledge Aria's presence in the room, even as she sucks your boyfriend off while you're sitting on his face, welcoming the pleasure he's giving you. However, it feels like it's just you and him. He brings you to orgasm in a minute, head placed between the soft and big pillows while he stares at you with a wet mouth and lust filled in his eyes. The sight is hot, sparking a new set of lust inside you.

Meanwhile you get off Jungkook, you watch Aria getting closer to Jungkook who keeps sprawled on the bed, leaning up against his elbows as he envelopes her breast with his mouth. He's not facing you but with his hand he motions for you to get closer. You do, biting your lip as soon as he sneaks his hand between your thighs and starts rubbing your heat and wetness there. He sneaks his fingers inside after a few minutes, the sound of his mouth and her soft moans filling the air while you enjoy him filling you up, even if it's just his fingers at the moment.

“Fuck, you two are amazing.” Jungkook says somewhere in the middle of it, praising the both of you as Aria shamelessly moans at the praise.

You're used to Jungkook praising you, it's always nice to hear and he never fails to do that. But now there's another woman involved and you know the act is purely sexual, however you stay silent and keep your focus on his fingers inside of you. But you don't want to come on his fingers. You want to fuck your boyfriend, claim him.

And you do.

The moment you sink down Jungkook's cock, you make sure he keeps your eyes on you. He drinks you in, hand dragging down your bra cup to free your breast so he can pinch your nipple. You moan, enjoying how his thick length feels inside you. The feeling is familiar, no… feels even better. Like home. But it always feels just as amazing.

At that time, in this moment, you completely forgot that this is supposed to be a threesome or there's another woman in this very same bed. Not until Jungkook's moans and curses get louder and you're reminded that you're not alone here. You're not in your bedroom and this is not one of your casual sex. Looking back, your chest brushing against Jungkook's, you find Ara behind you. For a moment you're not sure what she's doing there, until you realize she started sucking his balls while you fuck him.

You see why Jungkook thought she's a good person to do this with. She's shameless. She isn't scared to make a first move, not even as someone who has never met you before and clearly not as someone who's having a threesome. You're not sure if she has done this before, but she could definitely be considered as an experienced in this area. Which cannot be said about you, regardless of how many things you've done with Jungkook. And there were a lot of them.

Your boyfriend lets you experience his own pleasure by gripping your hips tightly. He keeps praising not only you but Aria as well, calling you both good girls and sluts – something that you also experienced and is a pretty casual thing between you and him. You're not offended by it and you're pretty sure Aria isn't as well as her moans can be heard behind you. Jungkook grips your ass before delivering a sharp slap onto the tender flesh. He does that a couple of times, fucking you even harder until you no longer can think about anything else. You come with a moan in the form of your boyfriend's name, breaths hitting the crook of his neck as he palms your ass. He is still hard and you know he's trying to prolong his pleasure as much as possible.

Though you're a little down by him not coming, you know there's still another person who barely received any pleasure.

With lust gone and orgasm slowly dying down, you let Jungkook's cock slip out of you as you sit next to him, trying to calm down your wild breathing.

Aria doesn't waste any time though and you're a little frozen by her first approach. She easily sits up and peers at Jungkook through her lashes. And then you watch her lick her lips, the sight coming out as explicit while you can't bring yourself to move. She easily grabs Jungkook's hard cock into her hands, taking matters into them most precisely, as she slowly starts to jerk him off.

Jungkook sighs in delight, letting her revive the pleasure back up.

“Do you have a condom?” she asks, and Jungkook nods immediately, pointing at the condom box at the dresser that's placed next to a huge window that is blinded by a wide curtain.

The city behind the tall windows blocked by the cloth, just as much as the three of you are.

You're not sure what to do. Your orgasm is gone and you no longer feel the need to receive more pleasure. It's like you want to do something, anything – just to not sit there and stare. Still wearing your underwear, you ignore the scent of sex and Jungkook on you as you can't force yourself to leave the room. Why should you? Shouldn't you be present?

Wishing Jungkook would look at you and maybe read the look on your face you're not sure you have. Though he doesn't.

Instead, you watch Aria taking your previous position as she sits down on his cock, right after she slid the condom down his length. You watch her bouncing on your boyfriend's dick and you gulp, wanting to take your eyes off but you don't. Looking at him you see him being in pure ecstasy, enjoying the moment and that's enough satisfaction for you to just stay there. You want to get closer to him, to let him know you're still there and want to be a part of what's happening right now.

But your thoughts and the weird feeling in your chest don't allow you.

They both come at the same time, your body starting to shiver and it has been for a while now, but you were too stubborn to notice.

Her hands sprawled on his chest – like they have been while they fucked – are gone in a minute as she gets off his cock. She shoots him a wink, naked and shameless, and walks towards the bathroom.

You sit there, slowly blinking as Jungkook comes down from the intense high of his orgasm, his eyes peering at you as a slow smile makes it on his lips. But you just stare and that shakes him out of his state and daze. He quickly gets rid of the condom and sits down.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” you answer automatically, but you're not sure if you believe your own words.

“What's wrong? You don't look happy. Didn't you like it?”

Still naked, he cups your face and you almost have the urge to push his hands away. Not when they touched her just a few minutes ago.

You're not usually the jealous type. Jungkook has always made sure you're the only one – just like he made sure of many things. However, this feels different. And you know this has happened because you wanted to have fun, experience something new together.

“I don't know,” you murmur truthfully, hearing the sounds of water from behind the door of the bathroom. “I felt kinda left out at the end.”

“Babe,” Jungkook says softly, “I'm sorry. I–fuck, I didn't think of it.”

“I was enjoying it at first but, I don't know…” you mumble, “I just don't think I'm crazy enough for this to happen again.” you admit.

“Oh fuck. Did I fuck things up with this idea?” He sounds worried and you can clearly see it in his brown soft eyes that are back, the lustful ones gone as he searches your face.

“No, it's fine. I just don't think I want this to happen again.” you clarify, wanting to assure him that there's no need for him to beat himself over this.

“That's okay. We learn together, right?” he smiles and you nod.

He leans down to kiss you but you automatically turn your head and he stops midway. You're shocked just as much as he is, both of your mouths slightly opened in surprise.

“Sorry,” you nervously giggle, “I just think we need to wash everything off.”

“That's alright,” he assures you, but you know he keeps his true emotions hidden. Unfortunately, you have no intention to discuss this now, not when Aria is in the next room. “We won't do this again. I promise.”

And you believe him. How can you not? He's your lovely boyfriend. He helps you dress up, before he continues to put more clothes on top of his boxers, hiding his naked and fit body. At the end, he leaves with you without saying anything to Aria who's in the bathroom still taking a shower.

But he's not a dick. He leaves a note on the nightstand.

“Thanks for doing this with us.” He adds the first letter of his and your name at the bottom.

After cleaning yourselves in a different hotel room, you fall asleep while Jungkook's body is pressed against your back, you think you can forget about this. It's just another experience you'll be able to move past.

You're crazy like your friends teasingly said. It's a shame the words have gotten a new meaning and you don't know about it yet.

“You did what?!”

The screeching sound coming from your best friend is no shock, but you still squirm on spot as your shameless confession makes it to the world. It wasn't that shameless though. You might be more adventurous in terms of sex, but you're not as loud about it – at least not alone.

It's not even current – that is if two months could be considered not current.

“You had a threesome?! Tell me everything? Who came up with the idea?” She suddenly sounds excited, though her facial expression turns sour when she sees the lack of enthusiasm and excitement on your own face.

You've confided in her because of your worries, not because you were too eager to share the details of your relationship and most importantly – your sex life.

Not that you don't overshare – just as much as she does – when you're having a drink and some alone bestie time, but this is not particularly something you have to talk about to anyone else. You do like privacy. And it was one of the reasons why Jungkook said Aria is the perfect candidate for the new experience, because she is low-key and private. It turned out to be true because after the threesome, Jungkook has assured you she's acting as if nothing happened.

He is leaving the job this month anyway, so he will probably never have to see her again which makes you relax a little. The less people know, it's better. You have this feeling that it should never be talked about again.

So you explain to your best friend everything, starting from the beginning. Minus the sexual details of course, but you do include how left out you suddenly felt. At the end, you're met with compassion from your dear friend.

“So, you're saying he's been acting weird?”

“I can't really pinpoint what's wrong,” you admit unsurely, shifting on your couch as you scratch the back of your head. “We had sex shortly, I think a few days after it happened, but ever since then… he just says he is tired.”

You look at her, finding her giving you eyes as you groan.

“I know, I know!” you exclaim frustratedly, “He is allowed to feel tired but I just know there's something wrong.”

“You said the other day he's going into a new job. Maybe he's nervous or something…”

“But that's exactly it. He never is secretive. He's not afraid to share his struggles with me. I don't mean to sound overdramatic, but I just know it… I just know there's something he's not telling me. And it's not just about sex.”

She sighs, scratching her temple. “I wish I could help you. Maybe you could sit down with him and talk about it?”

“I tried,” you roll your eyes at the thought, “I told you. He always brushes me off saying it's nothing and he's fine. What if he has grown tired of me?” you ask, suddenly sounding scared as your friend snorts.

“Tired of you?” she clarifies, “That man is in love with you.”

Looking at your phone, you check the screen for any messages just to be met with nothing other than the time and date. 24th of May. It's one of the things you feel weird about too. Jungkook used to text you over lunch whenever he had the time. But he hasn't been doing that for a few weeks too.

You hope your best friend is right, and you want to trust her badly as she assures you Jungkook would never leave you.

29th of April. Friday.

He has no idea how the fuck this happened. Actually he knows but his mind is blank.

He got wasted at a work company party. Aria never left his side, they talked and they cleared the air by discussing what happened that night. She was pretty cool about it. So cool that it made Jungkook feel lighter, excited to share the news with you once he comes home.

Party felt nice. Especially since it's the last one he's going to attend with his co-workers.

He kept drinking, enjoying the time by mingling around.

One moment he talks with Aria privately, just the two of them and the next they're naked. He's drilling his hips into hers from the back, her moans filling up the hotel room. He's not sure how many positions they try. Fuck. He's not even sure how long they do it for.

It's the morning that follows after that makes him throw up. Not only the remaining alcohol in his stomach, but the sight of his sleeping and naked co-worker. But this is not how it happened the first time. You're nowhere in sight and he realizes he majorly fucked up. The fuck. He's not even sure if they used a condom. He can't find it anywhere.

It's her hands he feels as he empties his stomach, embarrassingly still naked as she keeps her voice soft and quiet.

“It's okay.”

But nothing's okay. He cheated on you. The realization makes his stomach turn again.

He's angry. Mostly at himself.

He ignores her presence as he cleans himself and quickly puts some clothes on.

“It's not okay.”

He suddenly speaks, his voice coming out hoarse after thirty minutes of silence. He only now reacts to her previous words.

“Nothing about this is okay. I cheated on my girlfriend. That is not okay.”

Her face turns into a sad one, almost as if she could feel his pain. And then she comes up closer to him and cups his face. He flinches and watches her with brows scrunched.

“We don't have to tell her.”

“This,” he says, taking a step back, motioning between him and her. “Is not happening again.”

She looks sad but she gives him an understanding nod.

“I--I have to go. Sorry.” he stutters and quickly grabs all of his stuff.

When he comes back home and finds you there still sleeping, looking angelic and so innocent, his stomach heaves again but nothing comes out. Your voice is heard shortly after, behind the bathroom's door, asking him if he's back and okay.

He faces you because he has to, the smooth lie coming out of his mouth as he assures nothing happened and he just overdid it with alcohol. The lie tastes worse than a vomit.

24th of May.

“Are you excited about the new job?”

You fill up the silence, swallowing down the embarrassment of having to start a conversation yet again. Jungkook has been eating quietly, not even glancing in your direction as you prepared his favorite dinner. He thanked you, barely brushed his lips against your cheek bone in a silent thanks. Now you're sitting opposite each other, Jungkook's eyes merely glancing at you before he averts them back to his almost still full plate.

“Mhm.” he hums, causing you to eye him for a good minute before you sigh. The click of your chopsticks makes him look up, finally giving you enough attention in the last three weeks or so.

“What's wrong with you?” you ask straight away, “You've been acting weird all month. You barely talk to me, you won't even look at me.”

“Babe–”

“No,” you stop him, “You had free time this whole week, you ended your old job a week ago and you're never home.”

“I–” He stops himself, sighing as he drops his own chopsticks to rub his face. “I'm sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” you exclaim, hating how clueless you feel.

The doorbell rings and Jungkook glances up at you as you stand up, tossing your napkin back on the table with a frustrated and pissed off look. He gulps but doesn't say anything in response.

He can't lie to you. He can't do it.

But he knows the moment he tells you the truth, it's all done. It's all his fault. He should've never talked to you about the fucking threesome idea. He knows you weren't feeling it, you wouldn't even have to tell him because he could see it on your face. And that's how he told himself he would never think about it again. It's not your thing and that is fine. You tried many things and it turned out to be not your or his thing. It's nothing new.

Yet it changed everything.

It made him crazy in a completely different way.

He feels your muffled voice, not being able to make words but that's until he hears another familiar voice. His stomach drops and he's on his feet before he can blink.

“What are you doing here?”

You don't mean to sound rude but you're surprised how unfriendly you actually sound at the sight of her. She looks well-put as always. It's almost comical because she has cleaned up nicely, while you're in your completely natural state wearing homewear that has seen better days.

“I'm sorry I had to come here because Jungkook wouldn't contact me back.”

“And why would he do that? He's not working at the company for a week.” you point out, not hiding the confused look as she searches your face for a second.

The rushed footsteps can be heard until they stop just behind you, Jungkook's chest brushing against your back as you stare at her.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wouldn't have to come here if you didn't block my number.”

“You blocked her number? Why?”

Looking back at Jungkook, he shifts his eyes away from her to glance at you. He visibly gulps.

“Jungkook.” you say his name warningly, feeling there's something he's desperately trying to hide.

The panic, sadness and desperation. You see it all in his visibly pale face while Aria crosses her arms over her chest and doesn't look sorry at all. In her presence, you suddenly feel left out all over again. Because there's something you're missing out on and only two of them know about it.

She's not Jungkook's friend. Jungkook said she's purely his co-worker.

Why would she suddenly come here? How does she know where Jungkook lives? Why would Jungkook block her? He told you she's fine after the threesome and there's no need to worry.

And then the biggest fear and the scariest thought occurs in your mind and your face starts to change. This time Jungkook sees it all and he starts panicking. He doesn't want to have this conversation with the front door open, but he could care less about it now because he's already losing you. He can feel it.

“Jungkook…. I know we agreed not to tell her,” Aria speaks, having the audacity to actually sound sorry. That's until she starts rummaging through her black leather bag until she pulls out something.

You watch Jungkook's eyes widen as you shift your eyes toward the item in her hands. She's impudent enough to even thrust the picture in your direction. And you swear you feel like your whole world has ended. That's what you think until she adds;

“But I'm pregnant and it's yours.”

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #bts smut #bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts au #jungkook fic #personasintro

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the-90s-music-colosseum · 5 months

Text

Quarterfinals, Match 3

expand to see all propaganda received!

PJ Harvey:

"She's just so real, Polly Jean with her thinness and her red lips and her talent. The woman who dumped Nick Cave with a phone call!"

"no other musician in this entire tournament has an album where there are two different songs about having an enormous strap-on. and if 50ft Queenie and Man-Size weren't enough, she followed it up with ANOTHER on her next record. stream Long Snake Moan"

Stone Gossard:

"Have you seen that jawline?"

"Would you just look at the hair, the eyes, the jawline. He's cute and funny and a guitar god. Who else could write the riff in Once? Alive? Even Flow?"

"Search for Stone Gossard and auto fill suggests Stone Golem 5e. As somebody said he looks like sexy Squidward."

"Anthony had noticed Stone's interest over the last few months. Stone was cute, with his long hair and his nimble guitar playing fingers. Anthony harbored a few fantasies himself, mostly involving Stone's fingers being put to good use. He often imagined, when he was lying in bed fingering himself, that it was Stone's fingers instead. It would leave him panting and sweating just thinking about how good it would feel. Anthony was certain Stone didn't have a lot of experience, and there were some things he would definitely be honored to teach him given the chance. He was about 90% sure Stone was a virgin. That would explain why he was so shy. The water park was small enough that they had the whole place to themselves. As both bands enjoyed the slides and the fountains, Stone found himself working up the nerve to talk to Anthony. Not that he hadn't talked to him, but he hadn't said much more than a passing "hey, great show." Anthony, for his part, was formulating a plan. He would be the one to make the first move. Swimming over to Stone, he cleared his throat. "Hey." Stone blanched for a moment but gathered his composure back. "Hey yourself." "Um, so, listen. You wanna come back and hang out after we leave here? My room has a VCR and any movie you want." Stone considered for a moment. Anthony was asking him if he wanted to come back to his hotel room? Maybe there was a God. "Sure. I guess. I don't have anything else to do. Movies sound cool." And maybe more than a movie... Later on, after the two had shared a slide and splashed each other several times, Stone riding on Anthony's shoulders in a game of chicken against Eddie and Chad, the two made their way into Anthony's room. "Alright dude, I've got Pretty Woman, Back to the Future, Ferris Bueller..." Anthony ticked off the options. "Bueller is fine. You wanna order a pizza?" Anthony nodded as he slid the tape into the player and pushed the play button. Stone called the pizza place and ordered two large everything pizzas and two cokes. Now content that they had their evening's activities planned, Anthony turned to Stone. "Listen, I didn't just ask you here to watch a movie and get pizza, Stone. I need to be honest with you. You intrigue me. You're so intelligent and sexy. Can I kiss you?" Anthony asked him. Stone, heart pounding in his chest, could only nod his head. Anthony leaned in, kissed him full on the mouth as if to suck out Stone's breath. He slipped his tongue in Stone's mouth and massaged it gently with his. Stone let out a moan, who knew you could get hard with just a kiss? Ianlilith1316. "Can't Resist." Rockfic. 1 August 2020. Accessed 21 November 2023. "

"he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my-"

"Clearly hand-crafted by an incredibly horny Renaissance artist. Like Botticelli. And y’know what they say about paintings…nail ‘em against the wall ;)"

"He is the queen of grunge!!! How could you not vote for him?!??!"

"A vote for Stone is a vote for Squidward."

#most attractive 90s musician #poll #polls #pj harvey #polly jean harvey #stone gossard #pearl jam #temple of the dog #90s music #tournament

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

Text

"Pillars of Eternity" - Morpheus x Wisdom!Reader

[TW: kidnapping/captivity, blasphemy, mentions of sexual assault, nudity, graphic description of a rotting corpse]

[Sandman-inspired playlist] || 🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀

[Next part: 'The Just and the Wicked'] ['Que sera, sera']

SUMMARY: In a spell-go-wrong, Rodrick Burgess manages to summon you: Wisdom incarnate. Noticing a strange and quite unnerving change in the world, Morpheus ventures into the Waking World to investigate, only to find someone he's always been looking for.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 9k (oopsie daisy)

Oh, you're just in time! Come, sit beside the fire, warm yourself. Did your travel go well? Hermes walked with you, you say? That is just wonderful! Back when I was a wanderer, he showed me many shortcuts, both in this world and leading to others. If you happen to meet him again on your journey back home, please send him my regards.

Why I summoned you? Well, I'd like to tell you a story. It's one of my favourites, actually. Tell me, do you think dreams and wisdom have anything in common? You can be honest, I won't tell The Circle's Magister of Oneiromancy. No? Nothing in common? I used to think that too. "How can fantasy and reason have any similarities?" I'd ask. But have you never wondered why oneiromancy is such a recent field of study? Even more important question: why do we find answers to the banes of life in our dreams? Of course, the Magister will give you plenty of plausible excuses but the truth is, none of it existed until a few centuries back. What reason and fantasy have in common is just that: oneiromancy. So far, it's the only shared work of the Endless and the Pillars of Eternity. What are the Pillars? Have I never told you about them? Oh, you have to forgive me, I'm an old man. Well then, let me briefly explain to you:

There are four Pillars of Eternity: Wisdom, Decay, Abyss and Aether. They created life and with life came the Endless. Unlike the Endless, however, the Pillars do not mingle with humans. They rarely even meet each other. The Pillars are the only force keeping our universe steady. They were never born, so they will never die. One day, they shall end this plane of existence and create a new one. What about God, you ask? Well, they are the God. The Holy Trinity was just a huge misunderstanding of reality as the early humans thought that Abyss and Aether are one entity.

Abyss and Aether are, actually, the oldest of the four Pillars, although so much time had passed that neither of them knows any longer who is older. But that doesn't matter for now. Both of them were always frail. In fact, so frail one would take pity on them and share their meal. Abyss had skin of the darkest shade you could imagine, while Aether's was so white it nearly made her transparent. They each held a weapon, a symbol of their power: Abyss carried the Aegis of Darkness and Aether held the Blade of Spirits. For the longest time, the universe was only them - two equal forces but not equal entities.

Then came Decay, the most beautiful boy you ever did see. One of the old poets wrote about Decay as "beautiful like the Trojan horse". Marigolds would sprout from his fingers, wolves and deer would sit side by side just to watch him pass. He is the cycle of life and death, a balance that allows the world to carry on. Decay's weapon, the Bow of Existence, is told to end and create life as he pleases. He could aim his arrows at our world and soon all of us would turn into walking corpses, spouting rotted venom with each ragged breath.

And the strangest of them: Wisdom. Her name, however, quite poorly represents her domain. She is everything that is arcane, that lies beyond the material world. The very magic that you so fondly study is her gift. No, it's more than that: she is what we call magic. Wisdom's siblings never quite liked her for she knew the secrets of their powers. Those that have been blessed to see her say that she's always holding the Spear of Ages but I know that to not be true. It is told to harness the arcane wisdom of all universes past, present and future. Some even go as far as to say that it's the only weapon capable of killing any and every creature, no matter how eldritch they are. In fact, Archangel Michael once told me that it was Wisdom's spear with which he killed Satan.

Remember the last time you visited and I told you about the Endless? Well, one time the Endless and the Pillars met, changing our world in a way we are yet to witness and understand. A charlatan named Magus managed to capture Wisdom with magic The Circle will not teach you. Sometimes I think they don't quite know it themselves but it's for the best. No one should be able to harness such strange power. Curiously, the said Magus did not die in some horrible way like many did before him casting that spell nor did madness gnaw at his old mind. But that's not important. Alas, without Wisdom to guide creation, the whole world began to fall into chaos. Magic became uncontrollable, even the powers of the Endless started to falter. Perhaps, that was the reason why Dream ventured into the Waking World to investigate that commotion...

Lucienne had finished briefing Morpheus on the current affairs of the kingdom of Dreaming but she didn't leave immediately after as she usually did. Instead, she stood slightly sideways to him, pondering whether to stay or go.

"There is something else on your mind, Lucienne." His voice was carried by the loud echo of the overwhelmingly empty throne room. "Speak."

She let out a sigh. Her gaze met his for a second before she looked away for a short moment, the last reflection of whether honesty was appropriate at the given time, only to look at the King again. "My lord, I can not be sure whether it's something worthy of your attention."

"Let me be the judge of that."

Before she let him in on the secret, Lucienne shortened the distance between her and Morpheus but in moderation - he was sitting on the stairs and had she walked a few feet farther, Dream would have to look up at her. It was simply wrong, for the librarian to look down on her master. "There is something strange happening in the Waking World," she revealed in a low voice as if she was expecting prying ears around every corner of the palace. "Prayers are no longer answered, magic is wreaking havoc..."

"Yes, I have noticed dreams and nightmares seeping into wakefulness," Morpheus confessed in a reflective tone. Lucienne wasn't sure what to think about his thoughtful voice; clearly, Dream was at least partially aware of the strange commotion and had spent quite some time thinking about it. Something about this subject made him stand up and slowly stroll around Lucienne. "I admit I can not tell the reason for such a breach between realms."

"If I may so suggest, my lord, perhaps Wisdom...?"

Morpheus suddenly stopped. He watched Lucienne's face for a moment, studying her expression. A cold silence filled the throne room as if speaking that ancient name was a transgression against entities incomprehensible to the creatures of this plane. "No one has seen the Pillars for millennia, Lucienne. They do not care about the affairs of other realms."

"They created this universe," she argued. "I'm sure impending doom that is not caused by them will get their attention. Magic is, after all, Wisdom's field of expertise, so to speak."

"Even if she was willing to take an audience, I do not know where she resides. Firstly, I shall visit the Waking World and see this unrest myself. Perhaps there is no need to seek out the Pillars."

The Lord of Dreaming was a steadfast man and so Lucienne did not bother attempting to change his mind. "As you wish, my lord Morpheus." She slightly bowed to him before leaving.

Burgess mansion was drowning in a tense silence - the same type of quietness that takes over a stalked prey. Staff didn't engage in their usual small talk and gossip anymore. Instead, they'd give each other shy, anxious looks of worry and fear as if each of them wanted to make sure that everyone else was feeling as much dread as they did. It was the calm before the storm but no one could quite tell how far from them the black clouds of rolling thunder were. Each time some odd sound resounded throughout the mansion, no matter how quiet or loud, housekeepers would immediately stop whatever they were doing and stare in the direction of the basement door. Cold sweat run down their spines.

Rodrick thought that the Corinthian's trustworthy look was quite suspicious. Somewhow, the man in glasses reminded the Magus of a sleazy salesman, who manages to sell surprising amounts of an outrageously low-quality product. Nonetheless, a more naive part of him longed to listen to what the blond stranger had to say - even to simply satisfy his curiosity but, perhaps, Rodrick knew somewhere deep down that he had found himself in a land of strangeness never before discovered.

"I'm afraid you got yourself a bigger fish to fry, mister Burgess," Corinthian stated with a polite smile. "You have captured Wisdom, one of the Pillars of Eternity. She and her three siblings are what you call 'God'."

A feeling of dread in Rodrick's abdomen only grew in strength - he was hearing about things never mentioned in the occult books he had studied so feverishly. Necronomicon itself never mentioned something close to "Pillars of Eternity".

But for now, Magus couldn't care less about Wisdom's familiar connections. "Can she bring back my son?"

"Personally? No." The Corinthian maliciously waited for Rodrick's expression to turn grim before he continued. "But if there is a way to make that happen, she knows all of them. The problem might be getting the bird to chirp."

"Oh, that should not be a problem," Rodrick gritted through his teeth. Was he already reliving all the imaginative tortures he was going to subdue her to?

The Nightmare, however, seemed greatly unmoved at the viciousness seeping from Rodrick's mouth. In some disturbing way, his face appeared brighter, suddenly, as though he was pleased with what he was hearing. "Do yourself a favour, mister Burgess, and chain her with iron. Lock her in a circle of salt and black tourmaline. Otherwise, the bird might just fly away."

But Rodrick was not a fool, perhaps a little too proud but never naive despite falling to the stranger's charm. He was right to submit the Corinthian's claims to generous scepticism. "How do you know so much about her?" he asked with a slight squint in his old eyes.

That polite smile the Corinthian so often wore never faltered. "Let's say I'm a distant relative of sorts. Goodbye."

Watching the blond man leave, Magus pondered what business the Corinthian had with making sure that Wisdom didn't escape any time soon. He came to the conclusion, that if she was as old and powerful as the stranger claimed, holding her captive was enough to gain Rodrick allies as powerful as they were inhuman. Therefore, even if she ended up not helping him, there surely was some otherworldly horror out there willing to fulfil his wish in exchange for her. But before that, Rodrick had to at least try and make her cooperate.

Waking up, you felt something coarse and cold against your skin. A shiver ran through your body and only then did you realize there weren't any clothes covering your skin. Contorting yourself into a fetal position in an attempt to fight the discomfort, you finally opened your eyes to look at wherever you had found yourself.

The room was dark - a dirty window the size of a bar of soap was a laughable excuse for a source of light. Judging by the painfully rigid and coarse floor, you must have been sitting on concrete. With each breath, your nostrils were filled with the stench of mould. When your eyes adjusted to the tomb-like darkness, you began noticing white lines around you. They seemed to come together into some sort of occult or alchemy symbol. Circles, triangles, hexagons...

"Metatron's Cube," you whispered to yourself. You could recognise your own creation anywhere but considering you hadn't drawn this one, there was a genuinely demented scheme operating in this realm. What's worse: you never bestowed this knowledge on humans.

The sound of a metal latch being lifted stopped you from your small investigation. As the door's rusted hinges moved, a deafening creak resounded in the concrete cell. A man with a halo from gas lamps behind him stood at the threshold as though he was the messenger of some unspeakable forces. He slowly stepped into the confines of your prison, showing only half of his face as the other half was still drowning in the overwhelming darkness of the place.

With just one look at the stranger, the enigma of your own magic being used against you became clear as day: "You tore your soul for this."

He, however, disregarded your statement. "I am offering a fair trade, Wisdom." Rodrick put an odd accent on your name as if he had expected you to be shocked at his insight. But you were a little too loyal to the name you had been given to be surprised at his knowledge. Seeing as he in no way impressed or intimidated you, Rodrick's expression fell and a disturbing shadow danced across his face. "You will stay here, imprisoned, until you bring back my son or tell me how to do it."

Humans... you give them one finger and they bite the entire hand.

"Such an act is against my brother's laws," you informed him. Decay was an entity difficult to please and so it took all four of you entire aeons to come to the consensus that currently controlled this universe.

"I do not care for any laws. I only want my child back." Rodrick stared at you with squinted eyes but it was not an expression of scepticism: his cheeks were raised in contempt and, thus, his eyes appeared smaller. He took a few steps closer to you but remained wise enough to not cross the line of the Cube. It would have been a very painful disintegration if he had. "Regardless of price," he added after a small pause.

"Most unwise, Rodrick Burgess," you answered slowly. Considering the fact that you were naked, laying on the cold concrete floor in a fetal position in his own basement, your words were in no way more intimidating than a scorned ant.

"I am the Magus," he spat out, "and you will address me only by that name."

But you remained unmoved: his anger could never impress you. "You are only a human, barely a larva in this universe's cycle of life."

"And you are my prisoner," he pointed out triumphantly. Although he hadn't gained anything yet, it seemed that Rodrick Burgess was for now satisfied just with your loss.

"So mote it be," you said in a calm, firm voice.

A heavy sigh left your lips when the metal door shut loudly behind Rodrick. Once more, there was only you, cold concrete and darkness. Inside Metatron's Cube, the world was disturbingly quiet. Visions of universes past and future no longer haunted you. Even realms of this cycle seemed to be out of your reach.

Days went by before the air in your cell changed. Something about this microcosm of captivity shifted but the borders of the Cube prevented you from learning what it was exactly. There was only dread and fangs that resided in the darkness surrounding you.

Then a figure emerged from the shadows. You recognized him immediately by his simple yet characteristic attire but you'd know this Endless without ever looking in his direction: his presence always filled the room with a faint aroma of pomegranate, lilac and old paper.

"Lord Morpheus," you introduced him. "It is not chance that brought you here but consequence."

"Consequence of what, if I may ask?" His low voice echoed throughout the small, empty room. In slow steps, he was making his way towards you.

"Everything. A horizon of events that had never happened and all the timelines that are yet to become true should we step in their direction."

Morpheus knew there was only one creature in creation that could speak in an equally strange and insightful way: "You're Wisdom."

Putting your hands against the concrete, you sat up with knees close to your chest in a pathetic attempt at retaining at least some of your decency. Seeing him for the first time in millennia, you thought he generally looked exactly the same as the day he came to life. "Yes, that is one of the names I was given in this cycle."

Even while he was meeting someone he regarded as nothing more but a tall tale, Morpheus remained ever so expressionless. "Why are you here?"

"I was imprisoned by my own spell; the magic I had created was used against me." You noticed he was coming dangerously close to the chalk line on the floor. "Be warned, Dream of the Endless, not to cross the lines of this sigil. It trapped me but you..." you stopped yourself from continuing. Perhaps, there was no need in informing him of such horrors that do not have to appear in this timeline - to be simultaneously reduced to atoms and locked in one's corporeal form. "I do not have the heart to tell you what shall happen to a creature of your sort in Metatron's Cube."

Morpheus listened - the tips of his shoes were a mere inch away from the border of the symbol. "I presume it is your imprisonment that is causing chaos across realms."

Yes, that was bound to happen. "The magic I breathed into this world is shifting, wandering into places it was never meant to reside in like sheep that scatter in the absence of a shepherd. It's slowly leaving all realms only to gather here, in my prison, where Rodrick Burgess can do whatever he pleases with it. In the upcoming days, humanity shall see the most powerful sorcerer that has ever graced planet Earth."

"Then I shall bring this transgression to an end."

You appreciated his vigour but inaction was often smarter than a well-intended impulse. "No, Morpheus, it is not time for me to leave yet. The magic of this place is too stable. Let it gather, let the scale be unbalanced and then come to my aid. Humans are fickle things and there is only so much magic they can harness with their bodies, minds and spirits. Once Rodrick Burgess gathers too much of it around him, the call to balance my freedom shall cause will make the magic devour him alive. Every particle of him that does not come directly from any of the Pillars will be reduced to nothing."

"What will happen to the realms while you await for the right moment?"

"They will surely be visited by my dear brother Decay. But to free me, you must retain your power, dear Dream, and there is only one way for me to help you do that. You will find my spear by the tallest tree in my home, in Shangri-La. Hide it in Dreaming, in a place no one visits and do not tell anyone about it. Leave it be and the spear shall let you and your domain live comfortably through my absence. Remain brave of heart, dear Dream, for the Spear of Ages shall show you the world through my eyes and it is not something your kind was meant to see."

He fell silent for a moment, clearly pondering the quest he was about to accept or reject. It was truly humiliating for one of the Pillars to be dependent on the goodwill of one of the Endless but at moments such as that one, it was unwise to remain prideful. "If you're trapped, how will I know when the hour comes to free you?" he asked. There was at least one creature in this cycle that wished you well.

"Come back in a decade and I will give you my judgement. Now go, Dream of the Endless, for Shangri-La is far from here and with both of us gone, your realm shall fall into ruin at a frightening pace. However, there is one more thing I'd like to ask of you." Although he was free to leave and save his kingdom before he saves you, Morpheus remained still, waiting. "If Rodrick Burgess so desires to see his son, allow him to but do not discard even the smallest element of truth: paint him in his thoughts as he truly is."

"I will return, Wisdom," Morpheus announced in a low voice before disappearing in a whirlwind of golden sand.

The first time Rodrick heard a questioning "Father?" resound in his ears, he dropped the pen he was writing with. A fearful tremor shook his old body.

He got up from his chair so fast, he nearly lost his balance and had to lean against the back of it. "Son?" Rodrick called out in a trembling voice. It was silence, however, that answered him. With a thundering heart, Rodrick run out of his study to continue the search for the source of the voice he so longed to hear again.

The creature he saw, however, could hardly be called a human. Perhaps the shape was once the corporeal form of a young man but those days were long gone. His military clothes were black with mould and torn in many places. Was it a scrap of material or part of his intestine hanging from one of the holes? Most of his face had already been eaten by necrophages, leaving a disgustingly open view of his greyish-green brain. Fat centipedes and larvas fell to the ground when he moved the remains of his head a little too fast. A putrid smell of something both sour and sweet filled the air making Rodrick feel his stomach tighten so much, its content travelled back up his oesophagus.

"Father?" the odiousness called out once more. His voice was raspy as most of the vocal cords had already been eaten by the happily fat insects. "Father!" the monster cried out upon recognizing his once beloved parent. "Why have you done this to me?!" he sobbed in terror and pain.

Rodrick Burgess was speechless at the horror he was cursed to witness. Hearing blood rush through his head and feeling his heart beating too fast, he leaned against the wall. His terrified gaze never left the terror that slowly limped towards him. A raven croaked outside.

The monster, in turn, never abandoned Rodrick's mind: as long as the Magus was awake, he was cursed to see, hear or smell the resurrected corpse of his son, while none other was privy to this maddening nightmare. It was his personal Hell, catered to his very own taste. The Devil, as one can learn, does not lurk in the details but in every wish and whim that is granted.

Morpheus never had to endure cold. Sure, there were lands of eternal snow in his realm but their weather never affected him. Their climate was, after all, of his own doing. The Himalayas, however, were a strange land and their coldness gnawed at every inch of his very being as if it wasn't his fingers the unpleasant weather touched but his very soul. Nevertheless, he had made a promise and that meant he had to brave through the unending pale dunes.

The day when his eyes saw the pagodas with gold roofs, a sigh of relief left his mouth. You were true in your words: the journey was long, tiring and littered with hardships that made even the Endless question their purpose. As Morpheus walked through the city hidden from the rest of the world, its inhabitants seemed surprisingly disinterested in the unexpected guest. Living at the literal top of the world, what wonders were they privy to? Among the streets of Shangri-La, his heart was at peace and Morpheus at first wasn't sure what to call this sensation. He felt as if he could sit down right where he stood and remain there until you and your siblings end this cycle of life. It surprised him how little regret resided in that hypothetical scenario: Dreaming, after all, would be reduced to ashes should he decide to abandon his current life and stay in Shangri-La but at that very moment, Morpheus had little to no care about his own domain. Even worse: the thoughts and memories of it were swiftly escaping his mind. There was only him and the overwhelming peace caressing his tired bones.

Despite his strange desire, he made his way to the monastery which was placed in the centre of the city. Crossing the threshold, he saw a large patio with a large brass gong placed in the middle. The twelve lamas that ruled Shangri-La probably didn't notice his arrival as nothing about their behaviour seemed to acknowledge Dream's presence. As if completely obvious to the doom looming over the universe, they continued their daily duties of meditation, practice and tea brewing.

The unexpected guest, however, did not remain unseen for much longer as if he was, after all, expected. One of the monks, dressed in orange robes and with a head bald enough to reflect sunlight, approached Morpheus silently. No words greetings or inquires were exchanged between them - the lama only stared at him, awaiting an explanation.

"I came for the spear," Dream announced.

The lama, however, spoke no words to him even this time - he simply pointed towards a hill that towered over the city. A mighty sequoia grew on top of it and Morpheus for a moment pondered how he had missed this very obvious landmark. What he never learned was the fact that until the monk pointed towards the hill, it didn't quite exist - not in this dimension, at least. With his eyes set on the miraculously tall sequoia, Morpheus marched on.

Standing in front of the tree, Dream was rendered breathless at the unspeakable beauty of the view around him. Shangri-La was but an anthill from this distance. The rest of the world, no matter how big someone thought it was, remained covered by thick, white clouds as if this sequoia and the pagodas with gold roofs were the only things to ever exist. The setting Sun, slowly crawling to disappear underneath the cotton-like clouds, painted the sky above him in all shades of fuchsia, red and orange. Morpheus completely understood why you had spent centuries in this place.

The golden spear was lodged in the frozen ground between the roots of the mighty tree above it. Although 'spear' appeared to be a quite misleading name: it was a polearm with two intrinsically decorated sharp blades on each end. A red ribbon was tied to the shaft of this primaeval weapon; even after centuries of withstanding violent winds, it remained untorn.

The moment his hand lay on the weapon, a terrifying avalanche of thoughts flooded his mind - concepts, ideas, words and images he couldn't even begin to understand. He retracted his hand as quickly as it touched the spear before. This sorcery was beyond him, it filtered through dimensions he could never trespass due to the very laws according to which he had been created. Morpheus was akin to an ant that, through a series of misfortunes and the universe's maliciousness, was suddenly cursed with experiencing the surrounding world as a human only to be thrown back into its tiny mind with sensations and knowledge it could never comprehend.

But he knew he had little choice if he wanted to free you one day as well as make sure his realm prevails in those trying times. Feeling an unknown fear in his chest, Morpheus grabbed the Spear of Ages once more. As maddening thoughts ran through his head, he used all of the strength he had to pull the long blade out of the frozen soil. Every inch of his crawling, pasty skin was screaming at him to stop, to abandon this unholy artefact and save himself. But, as it was mentioned before, Morpheus was a steadfast man and so he kept pulling and pulling until he believed he had been doing it since the birth of the stars.

The moon's silver light cascaded off the freed edge. Although the golden blade was covered in intrinsic reliefs, the metal was polished so diligently, Morpheus could see his own reflection in those decorations but he quickly noticed that something about it wasn't quite right; the reflection wasn't his only as though an invisible entity resided inside the blade, a creature he knew was there but couldn't physically perceive. On the other hand, perhaps he was finally seeing himself for the very first time just not in the limited way human mirrors reflect one face. Dreams of the Endless from universes past and future were staring into that golden blade all at once.

If the legends were true and this spear had been used to kill at least once, it must have been the most beautiful weapon to die by. Perhaps its artistry was exquisite enough to calm the spirit of anyone who fell victim to it, drowning in peaceful silence and awaiting Decay's passionate kiss.

Remembering the unsure state of his realm, Morpheus made haste to return to Dreaming, where things were much worse than he left them: entire lands dissolving into oblivion; Dreams and Nightmares confusing their nature and duties, only to seep into the Waking World with no way to come back; dreamers getting lost in their own dreams or stumbling into the consciousness of other people, unable to wake up. Trusting your words, he hid the Spear of Ages somewhere inside the palace all the while following your advice and never revealing its location to anyone. In a matter of hours, Dreaming returned to its state from before his prolonged absence, to its lawful order, but it still wasn't ideal. Morpheus knew that his realm wasn't going to heal fully until you are free and it pained him to know that in the face of a calamity that raised its terrible hand against his home, there was nothing he could do but wait.

Awaiting the decade to pass, impatiently or not, Dream would wander into the dreams of people in Rodrick Burgess's manor. Part of him was anxious about your fate: should you, somehow, be destroyed, this universe would disappear with a snap of a finger. Perhaps part of him was simply sympathetic towards you and the human malice that clawed at your existence. Maybe, in those dreams, he would uncover some way to ease your struggle.

And wandering through their dreams he mostly saw, as one might expect, completely mundane sights of fantasies and terrors. A change appeared only when he trespassed into the dreams of the men that guarded you, who fantasised of defiling you even in their sleep. Morpheus felt a gut-wrenching disgust seeing with his own eyes how low humans were willing to fall, to crawl, just to usurp a fraction of your gift. His mind was incapable of comprehending something so mundane, normal, for you, so there really was no way for him to tell what inexplicable madness would devour their minds should they happen to lay their hands on your spear. The human heart, however, remained insatiable in its greed.

When the first decade had passed, Morpheus travelled to your prison not expecting his visit to be one of many to come. Before leaving Dreaming, he pondered whether to take your spear with him but quite quickly did he realize that placing such an artefact within Magus's reach was more than completely idiotic - he already had something inexplicably powerful in his unlawful possession.

Arriving at the Burgess mansion, he noticed the lack of change in you as in you were sitting in exactly the same spot and exactly the same position as you did ten years prior. Morpheus was about to call out to you, ask for instructions on how to free you, but you seemed to be well aware of his presence even before he had a chance to speak:

"No, it is not the time yet, dear Dream," you answered his never-asked question," but the night is young and I should like you to stay with me until the sunrise if you wish so too. It is unwise to let loneliness gnaw on one's mind for too long."

Wasting no words, Morpheus simply sat down in front of you. Even in a position that was supposed to be comfortable, he appeared artificially rigid. His stern gaze bore into your face in anticipation. A few minutes of hesitant silence passed by before he became courageous enough to make demands to an entity superior to him. Dream's voice, although low and voided of emotions, made the coldness of your prison more bearable: "Tell me about other worlds."

And so you did. Recalling the marvels you had witnessed and created, you told him about realms that had existed countless cycles before this one as well as future ones about which you knew only as much as the afterimages of the event horizon revealed to you. Taken over by the nostalgia of your too-long life, you shared memories of a world you always recalled with fondness:

"The sky was an ocean, deep and impenetrable as you have never seen. There were no stars, no suns or moons, only gargantuan jellyfish that swam across the indigo firmament. They glowed with such a bright light, the land underneath them was never dark. A soft, melodic hum travelled through the light breeze that was always present. People thought it was simply the wind brushing against their homes but if you listened closely, you'd know that it was the creatures in the sea sky singing a blessing to the lands over which they swam. I remember... I remember it always smelt of oranges there."

Quite surprisingly, he listened to your stories without even a shadow of confusion as if none of the strangeness you had seen was enough to surprise him. Well, he was the Dream King, after all, and that meant he was made out of oddness and wonders. Sometimes, when your words were colourful enough, he'd chip in with a story of a similar dream he had once seen. But never once did he laugh at the ridiculousness of your tales, never once questioned their validity or admitted his lack of understanding. In all of creation, finally someone heard your stories and said "I know" instead of "Explain"; your infinite wisdom for the first time united something in place of dividing as it so often happened with minds too small to look past their pride. For the first time since you remembered, it wasn't unspeakably lonely to know what others couldn't comprehend.

"You are a strange creature, Dream of the Endless," you confessed close to the end of the night.

"How so?"

"In all of my eternal existence, you are the first to have the faintest idea of what I mean when I speak. Everyone else lacks the imagination to ponder the impossible."

"I do not believe in the impossible," he answered. Perhaps it was then, in those very words of disagreement, that your fondness of him sprouted so vigorously. "Improbable, perhaps, but human ingenuity showed me that the impossible is simply yet to be uncovered."

And what a wonderful thought that was! That there was always something more to discover, wonders yet to be seen and knowledge to yearn for; that no one truly knew everything and the finality of your wisdom was a generously rounded subjective experience.

The sun was beginning to rise - it was time for him to go. "I will be back," he stated before disappearing and you never quite knew if that was a promise or a fact.

One day, not too long after Morpheus's visit, Alex Burgess came down to your dungeon. He was a frail boy, no older than thirteen, with big eyes that watched the surrounding world as if he was seeing it for the very first time. Perhaps they were part of the reason why he looked so frightened by existence itself. If not, the fact that he was sneaking behind his father's back surely was.

He stared at you in silence for long minutes. Maybe he didn't know what to say or maybe the sight of you made him too scared to open his mouth. "Is it true what they're saying? Are you the Devil?" he finally stuttered out in a quiet voice.

"Devil is a title, not a name, Alex Burgess," you corrected him. "After the fall of Satan, that honour was bestowed on Lucifer, the current King of Hell. I am not Lucifer." Truthfully, it was offensive to even suggest you were anywhere close to that pesky, wayward creature.

"Can you really do it?" he continued. "Can you really bring my brother back?" A glimpse of fearful hope appeared in his eyes. It nearly made you feel sympathy for him.

"Do you think I should?" you returned the question. "Would it be wise, little Alex, to rob the dead of their peace?"

Frantically looking over his shoulder, the boy walked up to you in rushed footsteps. As a token of his complete subjection, Alex fell to his knees in front of you. Staring into those big, teary eyes of fear and longing, you wondered what horrors he had to endure since his brother's passing. "Please, do it, I'm begging you. My father, he... He has changed ever since my brother died."

But even the tears of children weren't a good enough excuse to break the consensus between you and Decay. "And why should Rodrick Burgess dictate who dies and lives?" you asked Alex. It was at least ridiculous to entertain such thought - that larvae would order lions around. Humans rarely considered matters from a perspective other than their own. Maybe it was time to force one of them to be something else than egocentric for a moment: "Which one of you had ventured into Death's realm and asked the boy himself whether he wants to return?"

And maybe Alex Burgess would have responded to your strange, quite macabre, question, had his father not appeared in time. Seething, Rodrick yelled out various curses directed at his youngest child. His hand, although old and tired, grabbed Alex's shoulder with surprising strength, only to forcefully drag him out of your cell. Then, in those big eyes that glistened with fear you, saw his moment of clarity, complete understanding that you were something much older and much more powerful than the fairytale of the Devil people believe in - you could be much worse than the Adversary and his father kept you locked up like a stray mutt. Since that fateful moment, every day Alex begged his father to let you go in fear of your primaeval anger.

The silence of your loneliness, despite being hardly bearable, was a lot more welcome than experiencing another exhibit of human entitlement. How come those low creatures always thought they knew better? As much as they execrated gods, idols and all creatures in between for not granting all of their wishes, they never seemed to entertain the thought that, maybe, it was for their own good.

Every decade that followed, Morpheus would leave his domain to venture into the Waking World; for one night every ten years, reason and fantasy sat face-to-face as if they could ever be equals. As time went by, you couldn't decide whether it sounded like a set-up to a bad joke or the first verse of a life-changing poem. Although, who was to say both variants weren't equally true at the same time? Why did it have to be one or the other?

In any case, some nights the two of you talked but others were spent in a pleasant silence. When the night hours were spent on conversations, it was mostly you talking but it was quite understandable: while you knew what he was, Morpheus had a less than vague idea of the truth behind the myth of Wisdom, the Pillar of Eternity. There was a strange intimacy in being the one known instead of knowing but you welcomed it with the warm curiosity that defined you.

One time, probably as a token of his goodwill or care for you, Dream brought a book from the library in his palace. Out of all the works ever written, Morpheus chose The Trial by Franz Kafka. Perhaps he liked it himself or perhaps he found it somewhat fitting. It was a bizarre thing to stare at him while he read through the existentialist story: not an emotion appeared on Dream's face, nothing that suggested any reflection elicited through the strange tale he shared with you, all the while words leaving his mouth painted a disturbing course of events of a man who tried to defend himself from an accusation he never learned. Nonetheless, his low voice made for an exquisite narration of the through-provoking tale and you found yourself pondering asking him to read more to you. But that was a worry for the future, now you simply listened to his pleasant words.

Hours had passed and the sun was rising, people in the mansion were beginning to wake up, so Morpheus knew he had to leave soon. But before he was gone for another ten years, there was something you needed to tell him or maybe it was him who needed to hear it: "The world would be at ease knowing that it is you who is watching over them while they sleep."

"Thank you. That is a beautiful wish."

You gave him a gentle smile. Was it insecurity or modesty that spoke through him? "It is merely a fact, darling Dream."

And with those words, Morpheus had disappeared, marking another decade when magic run uncontrolled through all of the realms.

The eleventh time Dream visited your cell, he could immediately sense that something was different about that night. Were the wolves howling at a strange moon? Or perhaps moth swayed to inaudible music? Whatever it was, it pierced the air even in the concrete cell.

"The day has come, dear Morpheus," you called out to him. As it usually so happened, you acknowledged his presence before he could make it known. "The clock has struck Magus's last hour. There is enough raw, untamed power within these walls for you to not fail."

Strangely enough, you were in a different position: on your knees, sat on the back of your feet with hands resting on your thighs, leaving your chest indecently exposed. Morpheus felt a knot of shame tighten in his stomach - he should look away, shouldn't he? Redirecting his flustered gaze at something above or behind you, he spoke:

"What should I do?"

"You will need my spear." Still, you refused to look in his direction. Your vacant stare seemed to be admiring the dark, wet and coarse concrete wall in front of you.

"I hid it in the Dreaming as you advised."

Finally, you looked at him. Out of the two of you, he seemed to be a lot more embarrassed at your nudity. Perhaps you simply grew accustomed to the constant shivering and goosebumps. "Or did you?" you asked with a glint of mischief in your smile.

Morpheus was about to answer you, voice his confusion at your vague question, when he felt something weighty in his hand. Sure enough, he was now wielding the Spear of Ages, although he knew for a fact that he did not bring it with him coming to your decadal meeting. Curiously, he noticed that within your vicinity, the primaeval weapon did not torture him with visions and whispers he couldn't understand.

"Break the sigil with my spear," you instructed him, "but first you need to cast a spell, call my name into the void beyond all realms and summon me into this plane. Repeat after me, Dream of the Endless: I name you wolf, guardian of order and arcane laws. I name you heron, pathfinder of skies. I name you moth, the winged god of change. I name you fox, a traveller between realms. I name you earth, the sanctuary of stability and abundance. I name you crow, keeper of lost lore. With this artefact of power, I name you Wisdom, the Pillar of Eternity."

Morpheus tightened his grip around the shaft of the spear. With a strained groan, he pierced the concrete floor of the basement breaking one of the Cube's lines. A loud cracking resounded in the small room and a web of crevices sprawled across the complex sigil, essentially breaking it into countless dismembered lines. From those breaches emerged green light that quickly became blinding, forcing Morpheus to look away. The power, whatever it truly was, only grew in strength and soon it had reigned over the entire mansion. Housekeepers kept their eyes shut tightly, covering their entire faces as they felt the light burning their skin.

Then, a blood-chilling scream resounded through the house. It was, as one might suspect, Rodrick Burgess himself. Having gathered and irresponsibly used your magic for his own mundane whims, the green-coloured power recognized the man as a vessel for arcane force and so it tore every particle, that you had breathed into existence, out of him. Soon, the screaming subsided and only a speck of ash was left where a man once stood. The green light went out, crawling back down the cracks it had originally climbed out of.

Your world became loud again, filled with whispers and images from different realms and timelines. The static noise of universes past and future was never once overwhelming - it was akin to a farmer hearing fields of wheat rustle on the gentle august wind; it was the sound of life, creation walking along its predetermined path.

After over a century of forced, cold nudity, you found yourself dressed once more, in emerald green and embroidered golden ibises. A cape was covering one of your shoulders. As paradoxically as it may sound, it was then that you had felt more naked in front of Morpheus than before as though him seeing you in your arcane exult was more intimate than witnessing its mere fraction.

Nonetheless, it was time for the two of you to leave this den of wickedness. Having effortlessly pulled your spear out of the cracked concrete, you placed your hand on Dream's shoulder and, without a word of caution, travelled across the globe to the place you considered home. Where the two of you once stood among the darkness, now lay glistening, green dust, so easy to be overlooked by an inexperienced eye.

Morpheus found himself among the busy streets of Shangri-La again. Despite decades having gone by since the last time he had set foot on those cobblestones, nothing about the hidden city had changed. In fact, it seemed as if not a day had passed for its citizens. Still, the people of Shangri-La passed by him without ever acknowledging his presence. To Dream's surprise, neither did they acknowledge you. The bright, warm sun rays reflected off the gold roofs of pagodas building the city. A gong resounded through Shangri-La as though the monks were announcing someone's arrival or calling people to prayer.

Seeing you in all of your timeless glory, no longer bounded by foul magic, he fell to his knees - bowing, as one should do when facing the Pillars of Eternity. Although he was showing you the respect you deserved, it felt strange to be reminded of the inequality between you because, truthfully, this dissonance was buried the moment he sat in front of you, asking to be told about lifetimes he never got to witness and landscapes he was never going to set his eyes on.

The Spear of Ages weighed in your hand. The bright sun of the Himalayas danced across its edge, reflecting a mirage of colours both known and yet to be named. With a strange nostalgia, you looked at your own reflection in the meticulously sculpted metal. Entire universes had been born and collapsed before another pair of eyes stared into the golden blades. Eternity was changing, you could tell as much, but in what ways? That knowledge remained beyond you, for now.

"Throughout those decades of chaos, it had belonged to you as much as it belongs to me." With a sharp sound, you broke the spear in half against your leg. Holding one of the blades in your hand, you extended the now-broken shaft towards Morpheus. "You do not bow before me, Dream of the Endless," you announced in an official tone making him look up at you, "but stand by my side as my equal. A friend, if you will." Such a word of intimacy and trust tasted weird on your tongue. It was a flavour you were yet to grow accustomed to.

With a gentleness that befitted hesitation, Morpheus took the half of the spear you offered him as he stood up. In the upcoming millennia, he was going to have numerous opportunities of proving its deadly legend true, raising the primaeval blade against his own siblings but never, until the end of this cycle, was his hand going to strike one of the Endless. Not with this arcane weapon, at least. Now, when half of the Spear of Ages belonged to fantasy and the other half to reason, a new power was called into existence to accommodate this dissonance: oneiromancy, the art of prediction through dreams.

"Wouldn't it be considered rude for one of the Endless to seek out the companionship of one of the Pillars of Eternity?"

"We are peers now, darling Dream," you reminded him. It was utterly bizarre to consider one of the Endless as anything else than below you but perhaps too much time had already passed to dwell on your differences. "All you have to do is ask."

He didn't speak right away as if he needed more time to ponder his request. Only now, having escaped the darkness of the dungeon you were held captive in, did you notice the strange yet captivating shade of blue in his eyes - they were the same colour as the sky sea once filled with glowing jellyfish you remembered so fondly.

Finally, Morpheus took a bold step towards you. The stern, cold look in his eyes suddenly became mild as they studied your face. His face stopped intimately close to yours. "Come with me," he begged barely above a whisper as though he was afraid of anyone else becoming privy to the desires of his heart.

"That is not a question," you answered equally quietly.

"Allow me to rephrase: will you marry me?"

Staring at him in thoughtful silence, you couldn't help but smile. Some part of you knew this was going to happen the moment he stepped into the confinements of your prison for the very first time. Perhaps, the curious resemblance between his eyes and the strange sea sky was more than a random occurrence. "It is not chance that makes you say this but consequence."

His face lit up with amusement or curiosity. Dream's lips, too, contorted into a smile but it seemed to be a reflex rather than a conscious choice. "Consequence of what, if I may ask?"

"Of things that I have done," you answered. In a truly tempting fashion, your arms circled his neck. You leaned in to whisper something in his ear, making Morpheus sharply breathe in as he felt your own breath against his skin: "And as a consequence of everything that you have done, I shall tell you 'yes' without hesitation."

How do I know this story, you ask? Well, of course they themselves told me! I could ask my father to tell me any story ever dreamt but so often I'd demand to be told the very same one over and over again - the tale of how he met my mother.

Growing up, I was always headed on an expedition to find the Spear of Ages, at least one half of it but I never did. As Dreaming and Shangri-La are far and wide, the weapon was nowhere to be found. "The spear can not show you anything that you don't already know, Mimir," my mother used to say. Perhaps, she was right.

But the day is growing shorter, dear student, and you mustn't linger beyond nightfall. I bid you farewell. May you dream of wisdom and may you be wise in choosing your dreams.

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