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[bonniebird]

The curve of her ass

Ragnar x Fem!Reader x Lagertha

Requested by Anon

Warnings: smut, sex, oral, fingering, sexy sex, Lags kinda dom, Ragnar pretty sub

Ragnar had found you on the outskirts of Kattegat at the edge of his path home. Sitting alone and sniffling as you wiped away tears from your cheeks. It was Lagertha who had first noticed you a few days after you were married. She’d been so distracted she had to call Ragnar’s attention to you.

Keep reading

[romanticallyhaunted]

Imagine being tied to Ragnar by the gods... (mild NSFW)

Your naked bodies intertwined beneath layers of soft fur, both still breathing heavily. Your foot lazily traced along Ragnar’s leg, your fingertips followed the scars scattered across his chest. The warm candlelight dancing through the wooden cabin only added to the almost dream like intimacy surrounding the two of you. His hands are playing with your braids as you didn’t even get the chance to remove them earlier. When he came home his lips had already crashed onto yours before you could even greet him. Sweat still lingered against your skin while Ragnar’s touch slowly grounded you back into reality, the both of you gradually coming down from your shared high.

Ragnar’s fingers were slowly untangling your braids, his blue eyes showed deep thought. “The seer spoke of you again” His voice was low and hypnotic, though there was an unnusual thoughtfulness lingering beneath it. You looked into his piercing blue gaze, a slight tension settling in your chest as worry quietly crept into your mind. Mention of the seer meant there has been spoken about fate. Ragnar seemed to notice the worry in your eyes, his rough and masculine hand cupping your cheek as that softness he kept only for you creeped into his gaze. “Do not worry, my Love” He spoke after quiet pause. “He has told me the gods binded us to one another”.

[sugasamorcito]

Pairing: Thranduil x Fem!Reader x Legolas

WC: ~3k

Warnings: NSFW, SMUT, Oral, P in V, B U T T S T U F F, DP, Threesome, reader is Human, Minors DNI. No plot just pure filth

A/N: Sorry I was bored and I’m obsessed with Thranduil and Legolas…..

The air in Thranduil’s private chambers was a living entity, thick with the scent of aged Mirkwood wine, the sweet, resinous perfume of ancient wood, and the faint, clean scent of the forest after a cleansing rain. It was a scent that spoke of deep time and unyielding stillness, a stark contrast to the frantic rhythm of your own mortal heart. You stood on a sprawling rug of deep emerald green, the pile so thick it swallowed your bare feet, a human island caught in an ocean of Elven majesty. Before you, the great carved doors were shut, sealing you within this opulent prison of desire with the two most breathtaking beings you had ever seen.

Thranduil, the Elvenking, was a study in controlled power. He moved with a predator's grace, his silver hair a cascade of liquid moonlight that fell over the pristine white of his tunic, a slash of ethereal color against the dark, polished wood of the walls. His eyes, the color of a winter sky just before a storm, held a wisdom and a sorrow that was ancient, but tonight, it was eclipsed by something far more dangerous: a deep, simmering hunger. He stood by the grand stone fireplace, one hand resting on the mantel, the other holding a goblet of deep red wine, his gaze fixed on you with an unnerving intensity.

His son, Legolas, was his opposite in every way. Where Thranduil was the cold, majestic night, Legolas was the vibrant, untamed day. He was closer, his golden hair a halo of spun sunlight, his sapphire eyes burning with a fire that was both youthful and ageless. He wore simple leathers that did nothing to hide the lean, corded muscle beneath, a warrior’s body built for speed and grace. He watched you not with the predatory stillness of his father, but with an open, almost reverent awe, as if you were a rare and precious flower he was afraid to crush.

"You tremble," Legolas said, his voice a soft melody that soothed even as it thrilled. He took a step closer, the sound of his soft boots on the rug barely audible. He reached out, his fingers hesitating for a moment before they gently brushed your cheek. The touch was electric, a spark of warmth that spread through your entire body. "Do not be afraid."

"I am not afraid," you whispered, the words barely audible. It was a half-truth. You were not afraid of them, but of what they made you feel, the way your own body seemed to awaken under their gaze, a foreign and terrifying power stirring within you.

A low, resonant chuckle came from the fireplace. Thranduil set his goblet down with a soft click, the sound echoing in the silent room. "She should be afraid, ion nîn (my son)," he said, his voice a low purr that vibrated through the very air. "Fear is the spice that makes the feast sweeter." He moved towards you, his steps silent and fluid, and you found yourself holding your breath. He stopped behind you, so close you could feel the coolness of his aura, the faint scent of frost and pine that clung to him.

His hands settled on your shoulders, and you gasped at the contact. His touch was cool, impossibly so, a stark contrast to the feverish heat of your own skin. His long fingers were strong, pressing into your muscles with a possessive weight that was both comforting and intimidating. "A mortal," he murmured, his lips so close to your ear that you could feel the movement of them against your hair. "So fragile. So warm. So temporary." He leaned in, his nose tracing the line of your neck, and you shuddered, a wave of goosebumps rising on your skin. "We will handle you with the utmost care. And then we will break you."

Legolas shot his father a look, a flash of something unreadable in his eyes, before his gaze softened as it returned to you. "He speaks in riddles," he said, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your neck, his touch warm and firm, a direct counterpoint to his father's cool possessiveness. "We will not harm you. We will show you pleasure you have only dreamed of. We will worship you."

As if to prove his point, he lowered his head, his golden hair falling like a curtain around your face, shielding you from the room and focusing your entire world on him. His lips met yours, and it was like a dam breaking. The kiss was not gentle; it was a desperate, hungry exploration. It tasted of honey, of sunlight, of a wild, untamed joy. His tongue swept into your mouth, claiming, tasting, dueling with yours in a dance as old as time. Your hands, which had been limp at your sides, rose to grip his arms, your fingers digging into the hard muscle of his biceps as you tried to anchor yourself in the storm of sensation.

At the same time, Thranduil's hands began to move. They slid down your arms, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin of your inner elbows, making you moan softly into Legolas's mouth. He found the laces of your simple gown, his fingers nimble and sure as they began to work the knots. You could feel the fabric whispering as it loosened, the cool air of the room beginning to seep through the gaps. He was slow, deliberate, drawing out the moment, making you wait for the inevitable.

The gown finally gave way, pooling at your feet in a whisper of silk and shadow. You stood naked between them, the firelight painting your skin in hues of gold and crimson. You felt a surge of vulnerability, an instinct to cover yourself, but it was quickly extinguished by the heat in their eyes. They looked at you not as an object of lust, but as a masterpiece to be admired, a canvas upon which they would paint their desires.

Legolas broke the kiss, his chest heaving, his lips swollen and glistening. His eyes, dark with a primal fire, roamed over your body, taking in every curve, every hollow. "You are more beautiful than I imagined," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. He dipped his head again, this time his lips finding the sensitive skin of your throat. He pressed a series of open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, his tongue leaving a wet, warm trail that made you arch your back in pleasure.

Thranduil's hands resumed their journey, his cool palms flat against the heated skin of your back. They swept upwards, tracing the delicate line of your spine, making you shiver. His fingers brushed the sides of your breasts, a teasing, ghost-like touch that had you whimpering with need. "Patience, ion nîn," he chided softly, though there was a smile in his voice. "One must savor the appetizer before the main course."

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through you. He was toying with you, both of them were, and you were a willing participant in their game. His hands finally moved around to your front, cupping the weight of your breasts in his cool palms. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, which were already hard and pebbled from the cool air and Legolas's heated kisses. The contrast was exquisite, a jolt of pure pleasure that shot straight to your core. He rolled the sensitive peaks between his fingers, pinching them just hard enough to make you gasp, a sharp, delicious pain that mingled with the pleasure.

Legolas, meanwhile, had dropped to his knees. He looked up at you, his sapphire eyes burning with adoration, before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to your stomach. His kisses were soft, reverent, as if he were paying homage to a sacred altar. His tongue dipped into your navel, a brief, teasing flick that made you squirm. His hands were on your hips, holding you steady, his grip firm but gentle.

You were lost in a sea of sensation, the cool, possessive touch of the king at your back, and the warm, worshipful ministrations of his son at your front. It was a perfect, intoxicating balance. Thranduil's hands continued their torment of your breasts, while Legolas began to kiss his way lower, his golden hair tickling your thighs.

And then, his mouth was on you.

You cried out, your head falling back against Thranduil's shoulder as Legolas's tongue found your clit. He was skilled, impossibly so, his movements a perfect blend of pressure and speed. He licked and sucked, his tongue delving into your wet folds, tasting you, drinking you in. Your knees buckled, but you were held upright, caught between them. Thranduil's arm snaked around your waist, pulling you back against his hard chest, his other hand never ceasing its manipulation of your breasts.

"That's it, little mortal," Thranduil purred in your ear, his voice a low, wicked rumble. "Let go. Let my son taste your pleasure. Let him feel you come undone on his tongue."

His words, coupled with Legolas's expert mouth, were your undoing. The coil of pleasure in your belly tightened, a spring winding tighter and tighter until it snapped. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, a blinding, all-consuming force that ripped a scream from your throat. Your body convulsed, your inner walls clamping down on nothing as waves of ecstasy washed over you, leaving you trembling and breathless in their arms.

Legolas held you through it, his mouth never leaving you, his tongue lapping at your juices as you rode out the storm. Thranduil held you, his grip like iron, a steady anchor in the tempest of your release. When the final shudder subsided, leaving you limp and pliant, Legolas finally pulled away, his face glistening with your essence. He looked up at you, a triumphant, feral grin on his lips, before rising to his feet.

He captured your mouth in a searing kiss, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, a musky, intimate flavor that was both shocking and deeply arousing. "You are delicious, melamin (my love)," he murmured against your lips, his voice husky with satisfaction.

Thranduil chuckled, a low, wicked sound that vibrated through your back. "She is indeed," he agreed, his hands finally releasing your breasts. They slid down your body, his cool touch a soothing balm on your fevered skin. He took your hand, his long fingers entwining with yours. "Come. The bed awaits."

He led you towards the center of the chamber, where a massive bed rested on a raised dais. It was carved from the same dark wood as the walls, the posts intricately carved with scenes of forest and hunt. It was covered not with linens, but with a mountain of furs in various shades of grey, white, and black, a soft, inviting nest that promised both comfort and decadence.

Legolas followed, his hands already working at the laces of his leather tunic. He shed his clothes with an easy grace, his body revealed in the firelight. He was all lean muscle and sun-kissed skin, a warrior in his prime, his cock already hard and jutting proudly from a nest of golden curls. He was beautiful, a perfect specimen of Elven masculinity, and your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him.

Thranduil released your hand and began to disrobe as well. His movements were slower, more deliberate, a slow, sensual striptease that held you captive. He removed his white tunic, revealing a chest that was pale and sculpted, his muscles defined but not bulky, the body of a king who commanded with his presence as much as his strength. A faint, silvery scar ran across one shoulder, a testament to battles long fought. His trousers followed, and you saw that he was as magnificent as his son, his cock long and thick, rising from a thatch of silver hair, its impressive size a promise of the pleasure to come.

They stood before you, naked and unashamed, two perfect beings of light and shadow, and you felt a surge of desire so potent it was almost painful. You wanted them, both of them, with a desperation that bordered on madness.

Legolas was the first to move, climbing onto the bed and settling among the furs. He held out a hand to you, his eyes soft with invitation. "Come to me, Y/N."

You went to him, your movements hesitant, and he pulled you down onto the soft furs, rolling you onto your back and settling over you. His weight was a welcome pressure, his body warm and solid against yours. He propped himself up on his elbows, his golden hair falling around your face, creating a private world for just the two of you. "Are you ready for more?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

You could only nod, your throat too tight with emotion to speak.

He smiled, a slow, sensual curve of his lips, and then he was kissing you again, a deep, drugging kiss that stole the very air from your lungs. His hands roamed over your body, relearning every curve, every dip. He cupped your breasts, his thumbs stroking your nipples, bringing them back to aching peaks. He kissed his way down your body, his lips and tongue paying homage to your skin, until he was settled between your thighs once more.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with lust, and then he entered you in one smooth, powerful thrust. You cried out, the sudden, exquisite fullness a shock to your system. He was thick and hard, stretching you, filling you completely. He paused for a moment, giving you time to adjust, his gaze locked with yours, a silent question in his eyes.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, a silent invitation to continue.

He began to move, his hips rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm that was both tender and possessive. Each thrust was a deliberate act of worship, a claiming of your body, your soul. He watched you as he moved, his eyes drinking in your every expression, every gasp, every moan. It was an intimate, intense connection, a dance as old as time, and you were lost in the sensation, the world narrowing to the feel of him inside you, the weight of him on top of you, the scent of him in your nostrils.

You were so lost in the pleasure Legolas was giving you that you almost forgot about Thranduil. But he was there, a silent, watchful presence at the edge of the bed. He watched you, his winter-sky eyes burning with a hunger that was almost frightening in its intensity. He stroked his own cock, his long fingers moving slowly up and down the hard shaft, his gaze never leaving the sight of his son moving inside you.

The thought of him watching, of him pleasuring himself to the sight of you being fucked by his son, was a potent aphrodisiac, and you felt a fresh surge of wetness between your thighs.

Legolas felt it too, and he groaned, his thrusts becoming faster, harder. "You like being watched, don't you?" he growled, his voice strained with his own rising pleasure. "You like knowing my father is watching me take you."

You could only moan in response, your hips rising to meet his, your body demanding more.

"Then you shall have what you desire," Thranduil's voice cut through the haze of your passion. He moved onto the bed, his movements fluid and silent, and settled behind Legolas. You watched, your breath held, as he ran a hand down his son's back, a gesture that was both paternal and undeniably sexual.

Legolas froze, his body tensing. "Ada (Father)..." he breathed, his voice a mix of surprise and something else, something darker, more forbidden.

"Hush, ion nîn," Thranduil murmured, his hand stroking Legolas's flank. "I am not here to interrupt. I am here to join." He looked over Legolas's shoulder, his eyes meeting yours. "Are you ready for true pleasure, little mortal? Are you ready to be claimed by us both?"

The question hung in the air, a forbidden, tantalizing promise. You knew what he was asking, and the thought of it, of being filled by both of them, was both terrifying and exhilarating. You took a deep, shuddering breath, and then you nodded, a silent, breathless consent.

A slow, triumphant smile spread across Thranduil's face. He reached for a small vial of oil that sat on a table beside the bed, pouring a generous amount onto his fingers. He then moved behind you, his cool hands parting the cheeks of your ass. You tensed, a flicker of apprehension shooting through you.

"Relax, melamin," Legolas murmured, his lips brushing your forehead. "He will be gentle. We will take care of you."

He kissed you, a slow, soothing kiss, and as he distracted you with his mouth, you felt Thranduil's cool, slick finger press against your tight hole. He circled the puckered opening, his touch gentle, teasing, before slowly, carefully, he pushed a finger inside. The sensation was strange, a burning stretch that was not entirely unpleasant. He moved his finger, stretching you, preparing you, and then he added a second, the stretch increasing, a delicious ache that had you squirming beneath Legolas.

"Please," you whimpered, your body begging for more.

Thranduil chuckled, a low, wicked sound. "As you wish."

He removed his fingers, and you felt the blunt head of his cock press against your entrance. He pushed forward slowly, inexorably, and you cried out as the thick head breached the tight ring of muscle. The pain was sharp, a burning, intense stretch that was almost overwhelming. He paused, giving you time to adjust, his hands stroking your back in a soothing rhythm.

"Breathe, Y/N," Legolas whispered, his voice a lifeline in the storm of sensation. "Just breathe. It will get better. I promise."

You took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing your body to relax, to accept the intrusion. As you did, the pain began to fade, replaced by a deep, aching pleasure that was unlike anything you had ever felt. Thranduil took your acceptance as an invitation and pushed forward, sinking deeper and deeper until he was fully seated inside you, his hips flush against your ass.

You were so full, stretched to your limits, stuffed with Elven cock. The feeling was incredible, a pressure so intense it was almost painful, but it was a pain you craved, a pleasure you never wanted to end.

And then they began to move.

It was a symphony of motion, a perfect, intricate dance of flesh and desire. As Legolas thrust up, Thranduil would pull back, creating a delicious friction that had you moaning and writhing between them. They filled you completely, stretched you to your limits, and the pleasure was so intense it was almost agonizing.

Legolas's hands roamed over your body, his mouth finding yours in a desperate, hungry kiss, while Thranduil's hands gripped your hips, his touch a brand of cool fire against your skin. His lips left a trail of icy kisses down your spine, each one a counterpoint to the feverish heat building within you. They were a study in contrasts, the sun and the moon, and you were the earth caught in their glorious, devastating orbit.

The rhythm they established was hypnotic, a seamless ebb and flow that pushed you to the very brink of sanity. When Legolas withdrew, Thranduil pressed deeper, and when Thranduil retreated, Legolas filled the void. There was no moment of emptiness, no second to catch your breath. You were a vessel, perfectly and completely filled, stretched to your limits by their combined size and strength. The sensation was overwhelming, a dense tapestry of pleasure woven from threads of burning stretch, aching fullness, and a deep, primal satisfaction that resonated in the very marrow of your bones.

Legolas's kiss became more frantic, his tongue plunging into your mouth in time with his thrusts, as if he were trying to consume you, to merge your very essence with his. His golden hair, damp with sweat, clung to his temples, and his sapphire eyes, usually so clear and bright, were now dark and unfocused with lust. "You feel... incredible," he panted against your lips. "So tight... so perfect. Taking us both."

His praise was a potent drug, sending a fresh wave of arousal coursing through you. You clenched around him, a deliberate, involuntary squeeze that made him groan, his hips bucking against yours.

Thranduil felt it too. A low, guttural sound rumbled in his chest, a predator's purr of approval. "She learns her place quickly," he growled, his voice a dark, velvety command in your ear. He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming harder, more demanding, each one driving you forward onto Legolas's cock. One of his hands left your hip, snaking around your body to find the sensitive nub of your clit. He began to circle it with his thumb, the cool pad of his finger a shocking, exquisite sensation against your heated flesh.

The added stimulation was your undoing. The coil of pleasure in your belly, which had been tightening steadily, snapped with the force of a thunderclap. Your orgasm crashed over you, not as a wave, but as a cataclysm. A scream was torn from your throat, raw and primal, as your body convulsed between them. Your inner walls clamped down like a vise, spasming around their cocks as wave after wave of blinding ecstasy washed over you. Your vision went white, your mind blissfully blank, and for a moment, you were nothing but pure, unadulterated sensation.

Your release triggered theirs. With a final, powerful thrust, Legolas buried himself deep inside you, his body arching as he found his own release. He roared your name, a sound of triumph and possession, as he poured himself into you, his hot seed flooding your core in a series of pulsing jets.

A moment later, Thranduil followed. He drove into you one last time, his grip on your hip tightening almost to the point of pain as he stiffened, a low, guttural groan tearing from his throat as he emptied himself into you, his cool essence a stark, thrilling contrast to Legolas's heat.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was your combined ragged breathing, the three of you locked together in a tangle of limbs and sweat-slicked skin. They collapsed against you, their weight a welcome, grounding pressure, and you lay sandwiched between them, your body humming with the aftershocks of your pleasure, your mind a peaceful, blissful void.

Slowly, gently, Thranduil withdrew, followed by Legolas. The sudden emptiness was a shock, but it was quickly replaced by a bone-deep satisfaction. Legolas rolled to the side, pulling you with him until you were nestled against his chest, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist. Thranduil settled behind you, his body a cool, solid presence, his arm draping over both of you, completing the circle. A fur was pulled over your exhausted bodies, a soft, warm weight that sealed you in your intimate nest.

You lay in the comfortable silence, listening to the steady beat of Legolas's heart beneath your ear and the soft, even sound of Thranduil's breathing behind you. The firelight had died down to a soft glow, casting long, dancing shadows on the walls, and the room was filled with a profound sense of peace.

Legolas pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips gentle and reverent. "Are you alright?" he murmured, his voice soft with a tenderness that brought tears to your eyes.

You could only nod, your throat too tight with emotion to speak. You were more than alright. You were whole.

Thranduil's hand, which had been resting on your hip, began to move, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. "She is more than alright, ion nîn," he said, his voice a low, possessive purr. "She is ours."o

He shifted, moving closer, and you felt his lips press against the back of your neck, a soft, cool kiss that was a promise, a brand, a seal of ownership. "Ours," he repeated, the word a whisper in the dark.

Legolas tightened his arm around you, his chin resting on the top of your head. "Always," he agreed, his voice a soft echo of his father's claim.

And as you lay there, safe and sated between the Elvenking and his son, a mortal held in the embrace of immortals, you knew, with a certainty that settled deep in your soul, that you were exactly where you were meant to be. You were no longer just a visitor in their world, a fleeting moment in their endless lives. You were a part of them, and they were a part of you, a bond forged in fire and ice, in pleasure and pain, a love that would transcend time itself. And in the quiet darkness of the Elvenking's chambers, you finally felt like you had come home.

So….. how was it..? 🫣

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine Orlando Bloom talking about meeting you on the set of LOTR.

“So did you two meet right away, or was it during the cast reading?” The interviewer asked Orlando. It had been years since the two of you did the Lord of the Rings trilogy together, but people still asked these questions. They were suckers for romance, and hounds for details.

“We saw each other during the cast reads and stuff but we didn’t actually talk until we were in filming,” Orlando said, reminiscing with a laugh. When he talked about this, he usually ended up blushing and he could feel that coming through the surface of his skin now.

“Tell us more,” The interviewer said with a smile.

“Well, we had really early days sometimes, and late nights so there wasn’t much time to sleep. But sometimes I couldn’t sleep because I was so excited, then I’d go to the catering crews and get myself a midnight snack. Y/N did the same. They were sitting there with a hot chocolate and some cookies and I guess that’s when I knew that we were going to become close.”

“All over a midnight snack?”

“Oh, definitely. Now that we live together, we’re always getting up for midnight snacks.”

[sindar-princeling]

i don't remember the books so well, what is legolas' personality like in them? all i remember is tht the books and movie where massively different?

Oh my dear anon. I could go on about book Legolas for hours.

Book Legolas is a sassy little sh*t who skips on the surface of the snow when everyone else is drowning in it up to their waists and carrying the four hobbits. Book Legolas sleeps with his eyes open. He watches Aragorn throw himself to the groud and listen to the sound of running horses, only to say afterwards, “yeah, there are a hundred and five of them, they’re all blond and they all have spears nbd“. Book Legolas cries that Gollum escaped grom Mirkwood right after everyone was like, “phew, it’s good that Thranduil’s elves keep an eye on him, what could go wrong???“. He screams all the time, and occasionally drops his bow too. He kills a warg, shooting it right in the throat with a burning arrow. Book Legolas is a trees stan. Book Legolas walk away singing “To the Sea! To the Sea!“. Book Legolas is not afraid of zombies, thank you very much. He addreses his friends “children“, even though he is probably the youngest elf in Middle-Earth that we know of. And of course, book Legolas takes none of your bs, builds his own grey boat because who says he can’t sail on his own ship right, packs his best friend and shows up in Valinor 120 years late with Starbucks and a dwarf.

[heaven-lee-elven-embers]

𝕭𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘

A/N: First of all, I want to apologize for how long this came out to be. I got WAY carried away with this one. But I certainly enjoyed writing it. Shout out to @callsignred for giving me so many GIFs to go with this fic

Pairing: Lee Pace x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 17.3k

CW: The second half of this fic is pure filth. Descriptions of Male and Female Anatomy, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Male Receiving, Oral Female Receiving, Unprotected Sex, Cream Pie, P in V, Descriptions of bodily fluids

The air hung thick with the scent of sweat and exertion. Lee, stripped to the waist, moved with a controlled ferocity, his every punch and block precise, yet imbued with a raw power that belied his usually refined demeanor. His breath hitched in ragged gasps, punctuated by the sharp thwack of his fists against his sparring partner's padded gloves. You watched, arms crossed, the clipboard in your hand feeling heavier than usual. This was supposed to be straightforward fight choreography; a simple sequence for an upcoming scene in Foundation. But it felt anything but simple. The tension between you crackled in the air, thicker than the sweat. Every glance, every instruction, felt loaded. He’d been late again this morning, and the excuse—a last-minute script change—felt flimsy at best.

“Lee! Again, from the beginning. You’re rushing the transition from block to counter.”

You called out, your voice even despite the simmering frustration. He stopped, his chest heaving, a frustrated growl escaping his lips. He ran a hand through his damp hair, the gesture somehow both exasperated and alluring. The stark contrast between the ferocious intensity of his training and the almost petulant frustration he was now displaying was unsettling. You have been a part of the production of Foundation since the beginning. Having both some cinematic experience and in ring experience really helped you in landing this job. Since day one, you found something alluring about Lee. Being a professional, you pushed that feeling aside. This was Hollywood after all. A dumb mistake such as fraternizing with the lead actor wouldn't exactly look that great on your resumé.

He started again, slower this time. But the precision was gone, replaced with a simmering energy. He was putting more emphasis on the intensity of his expressions, far more dramatic than required for the scene. This was deliberate, you knew. He was trying to bait you, or perhaps pushing his own boundaries. You walked the perimeter of the rectangular, cushioned mat, watching his every move like a hawk. Your brow furrowed with annoyance.

“Lee, focus on the choreography. The intensity will come naturally. Right now it’s distracting. Let's take it from the top.”

You said, your tone is sharper now. He glared at you for a moment before resuming. The slight smirk playing on his lips spoke volumes. He knew exactly what he was doing. This wasn't just about the fight sequence; it was a power play, your silent battle echoing between the throws and blocks in the otherwise quiet gym. He would always push you, always test your patience. Maybe he enjoyed the friction, the spark, as much as you secretly enjoyed it. The tension in the air thickened with each strained repetition. Lee’s performance, while undeniably powerful, lacked the fluidity you demanded. His frustration was palpable, mirroring the simmering resentment in your own chest. This wasn’t just a directorial disagreement; it was a clash of wills, a silent battle played out against the backdrop of the dimly lit gym.

“Mark! You're lagging behind in this sequence. Straighten it up. Don't overthink it guys.”

You call out again, your voice still firm but tinged with a hint of annoyance. With a gesture of your hand, both men knew it was time to start again from the beginning. Despite your calm exterior, your heart leapt into your throat at the subtle glance that Lee steals from you. There was an unspoken tension that lingered there between you both. As he resumed the choreography, you felt the tension radiate between you, an unspoken dynamic that made your heart race. Was it the pressure of the looming shoot, or was it the undeniable chemistry that crackled whenever he was near? You tried to push the thought aside as he launched back into the rehearsed routine.

“More power in that punch. Keep your weight on your toes. Don't get stiff on me now.”

You instructed, forcing your gaze to remain professional. He smirked slightly, that charming, almost infuriating grin that had the ability to unravel your composure. As he landed the next move, his eyes met yours for a fleeting moment, and in that silent exchange, you felt the weight of his stare linger longer than necessary. You quickly look back down at your clipboard, trying to hide the faint smile that tugged at your lips.

The sparring session dragged on, each repetition of the sequence feeling more like a battle of endurance than a rehearsal. Lee’s movements were sharper now, his punches landing with a force that echoed through the gym. Mark, the stuntman, winced slightly but held his ground, his professionalism unwavering. You couldn’t help but admire Mark’s resilience, though your focus remained locked on Lee.

“Good. That’s better. “But watch your footing, Lee. You’re overextending on the cross. We can reign it in on the power and focus more on the choreography.”

You speak up, voice steady, though your pulse betrayed you. Lee paused, his chest rising and falling as he turned to face you. His eyes, a piercing shade of blue, locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, the muscles in his arm flexing with the motion. It was maddening how effortlessly he commanded attention, how he seemed to revel in the effect he had on those around him.

“Overextending, huh? Maybe you should show me how it’s done.”

Lee said, his tone laced with a teasing edge. As he stepped closer, you crane your neck to be able to look up at him. The challenge hung in the air, daring you to respond. You felt the eyes of the crew on you, a silent audience to this unspoken game. Your grip on the clipboard tightened as you fought to maintain your composure. It would be a lie you would tell yourself if you didn't imagine what it would be like to have your hands on him.

“I’m here to direct, not to spar. That type of intervention isn't quite needed just yet. Now, again. From the top.”

You replied coolly, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. Lee’s smirk widened, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he turned back to Mark, his expression shifting back to one of focus. The choreography resumed, the rhythm of their movements filling the gym once more. But the tension between you and Lee lingered, an invisible thread pulling taut with every stolen glance, every unspoken word. As the session wore on, you found yourself drawn into the choreography, your professional instincts taking over. You stepped onto the mat, your clipboard forgotten on a nearby bench. With a few quick adjustments, you demonstrated the sequence, your movements fluid and precise. Lee watched you intently, his gaze unwavering as you moved through the routine.

“Like this. It’s about control, not just power. You need to find the balance. Once we get the basics down, we can start to incorporate the energy of Cleon.”

You said, your voice firm as you turned to face him. Lee nodded, his expression unreadable as he stepped forward. For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you, the hum of the gym fading into the background. He mirrored your stance, his proximity sending a jolt of electricity through you.

“Show me.”

His voice low, almost a whisper. You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. But then, with a steadying breath, you reached out, your hands brushing against his as you guided him through the motion. The contact was brief, but it was enough to send a shiver down your spine. You quickly stepped back, your professional mask slipping back into place.

As you stepped closer to Lee to adjust his posture, the heat radiating from his body was almost tangible. His breathing had settled, but there was a faint sheen of sweat on his skin that caught the gym’s dim light. Placing your hands lightly on his forearm, you guided it into position, ensuring the angle was precise.

“Your guard needs to be tighter—Otherwise, you’re leaving your ribs wide open.”

You murmured, your voice quieter now, as if the proximity demanded a softer tone. He nodded, his expression serious, but as you glanced up, you caught him watching you—really watching you. His gaze lingered for a moment too long, tracing the curve of your face before meeting your eyes. The intensity there was undeniable, a spark that sent a jolt through you, quick and sharp.

“Like this, then?”

He asked, his voice low and deliberate. His arm shifted slightly under your touch, his bicep flexing as he adjusted. Your pulse quickened, but you forced yourself to stay focused. Shaking your head, you stepped even closer, your hands brushing against his as you repositioned his arm again. It's impossible to not feel his gaze on you. Your professional mask threatens to falter under the pressure and underlying tensions. You just knew that everyone was watching, taking mental notes to better prepare themselves for future scenes on set.

“You're quite thorough, I’ll give you that. A hard ass, but thorough.”

He drawled with a smirk. You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head as you dropped your hands and took a step back, trying to create some distance. You tilt your head to the side, mentally measuring each angle and step of Lee before looking over to Mark. Your brows we tightly knitted together, displaying your center of focus and will of concentration.

“I have to be. Otherwise, you’d be out there flailing around instead of looking like you know what you’re doing.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. You could feel the heat threatening to rise to your cheeks. Why did he have to stand so close? You could feel the heat radiating from his body. He raised a brow at you, tilting his head to the side.

“Flailing? That's a bit harsh now, don't you think?”

You lift your eyes to meet his gaze. A tight line tugged your lips into a curt smile. You knew exactly what Lee was doing, and judging by that cocky ass smirk he wore, he did too. You force out a small laugh at his challenging question.

“Harsh? No. Honest? Absolutely. Roll your shoulders back. Straighten that spine. If you're the Emperor of Trantor, you should look like it. There we go. Better. Much better. Now, let’s see it again.”

You countered, your tone sharper than intended, though you couldn’t entirely hide the smile tugging at your lips as you turned away. Lee returned to the starting position, but the tension was there, humming just beneath the surface. As he moved through the sequence, he glanced at you again—subtle, fleeting, but unmistakable. It was like a game now, a silent exchange that neither of you acknowledged aloud. He was testing you, pushing the boundaries, waiting to see how far you’d let it go.

“Take it from the top. Mark, if he messes up again, feel free to throw him around a bit. Might knock some sense into him.”

You teased with a coy smile playing on your lips. Lee looks at you, raising his brows in a ‘oh really’ type of fashion. Your eyes narrowed just slightly, a proud smirk on your lips. With a flicker of your hand, you gesture to both men to resume yet again.

“That's it. Looking good, Lee. Looking better, but you’re still telegraphing your punches. It’s too obvious. Don't think too hard about it.”

You said when he finished, crossing your arms as you studied him. He tilted his head, a sly grin curling at the corners of his mouth making your heart race and flutter.

“Maybe I want you to see them coming.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you refused to let it show. Shaking your head in dismay, you tisk at him quietly, resting your hands upon your hips. Mark bites back his chuckle at the exchange, shaking his head.

“In that case, you’ll be the one getting hit.”

You shot back, your tone cool, though your cheeks felt warm under his gaze. The session continued, the choreography falling into a smoother rhythm, but the unspoken tension between you and Lee remained, an invisible tether pulling taut with every stolen glance and subtle smirk. By the time you finally called for a break, your heart was racing, and it had little to do with the exertion on display in the gym.

The gym fell silent as you called for a break, the echo of Lee’s last punch still hanging in the air. Mark gave a quick nod of acknowledgment before heading off, leaving you and Lee alone in the cavernous space. You busied yourself with your clipboard, jotting down notes you didn’t really need to take, anything to avoid the weight of his gaze. Lee’s voice broke the quiet, casual but with that ever-present undercurrent of something more. You glanced up from where you sat in your chair, your professional mask firmly in place.

“Lunch? C'mon, I'm starving. Surely you've worked up quite the appetite from all the bossing around you've accomplished.”

He tilted his head, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. There it was, that damn overconfident smirk. You tried to keep your gaze on your clipboard as you jot down a few extra notes, but you couldn't shake the feeling of his gaze locked upon your figure.

“There's catering in the next room. Help yourself. I need to finish this and make some adjustments.”

You reply as flatly as possible, but the way your heart flutters completely defies you. A silent sigh escapes you as you force yourself to look up to him. There was an all too familiar gnawing ache in your abdomen that threatened to chip away at every ounce of professionalism you had left. Reluctantly, you lift your gaze back up to his, your eyes narrowing slightly towards him.

“What, no company? I thought we were a team. Even directors and choreographers have to eat.”

He extends a hand out to you. You hesitated, the logical part of your brain screaming at you to decline. But before you could think better of it, you found yourself nodding despite the small voice in the back of your mind screaming about professionalism. Exhaling a slow breath, you take his hand, allowing him to pull you up to your feet. The initial contact sent jolts of electricity throughout your body.

“Fine. Five minutes. No more. No less.”

The two of you made your way to the adjoining room, where a modest spread of sandwiches and salads awaited. Lee grabbed a plate, his movements unhurried as he selected his meal. You followed suit, keeping a careful distance, though the tension between you seemed to follow like a shadow. Settling at a small table in the corner, you took a bite of your sandwich, determined to keep the conversation neutral. But Lee, as always, seemed to have other plans.

“So–How long are you going to keep pretending you don’t enjoy bossing me around?”

He began, leaning back in his chair with an easy confidence that was both infuriating and magnetic. You nearly choked on your bite, shooting him a sharp look. He grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction. Your cheeks flushed, but you refused to rise to the bait. A faint smile tugged at your lips as you shook your head in disbelief. Surely he wasn't being serious, or at least that's what you hoped.

“Come on. You’re always so... precise. So in control. It’s impressive, really. But I can’t help wondering if there’s more to it.”

“It’s called doing my job, Lee. My job is to ensure not just your safety, but everyone else involved. Plus it's about making sure you don’t look like an idiot on screen too.”

There was the faintest hint of sincerity in your tone. He laughed quietly, the sound rich and warm, and for a moment, you hated how much you liked it. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned forward, closing the distance between you. You hated the way your heart fluttered in your chest; hated the way your breath threatened to become knotted in the back of your throat; you hated the way these tensions always found their way to just below the surface of your skin.

“And here I thought you cared.”

You felt another wave of heat rush through your body. Your silent expression was worth a million unspoken words. You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms as you studied him. You hated the way the butterflies fluttered about in your stomach. That confident smile of his was damn near enough to knock down your walls of professionalism.

“I do care. I care about the choreography. The success of Foundation. As as your and everyone else's success that's involved in its production. That's it.”

You state bluntly, gazing out the window of the small room. Even with your gaze averted away from his, you can still feel his eyes upon you, and it drives you mad. You wanted to be able to shrink away, to just disappear, even for just a moment. Since day one of its production, you had been on set, helping in the smaller projects of the production. Never in a million years would you have thought that you'd be here in this situation. Lee tilted his head, his smirk softening into something more thoughtful, making your pulse quicken and flutter.

“You're a terrible liar, you know. And, you're not as unreadable as you think you are.”

Your breath hitched, but you masked it with a scoff. The weight of his words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He was right, and you hated that he knew it. You could feel your pulse rising into your throat as you watched him from the corner of your peripheral vision. How could he read you so well?

The silence that followed was charged, the unspoken tension between you crackling like static electricity. You focused on your sandwich, determined to ignore the way his gaze lingered on you, the way his presence seemed to fill the room. But then he spoke again, his voice softer this time. You pondered silently over his words, your expression unmistakable. Your eyes narrow towards him, silently questioning him.

“It means you're not as good at hiding how you feel as you think you are.”

He said, his tone teasing but with an edge of sincerity. Your heart raced, but you refused to let it show. It couldn't have been that obvious. You had been masking it so well thus far, how could he even detect anything from you? You had kept your distance and always maintained a professional demeanor around everyone on set.

“And what exactly do you think I’m feeling, hm?”

You quip, meeting his gaze. He leaned back, his smirk returning. There's a million unspoken words shared between your gazes. You hated the fact you loved that smug ass smirk he wore. It was what he said as he spoke again that sent your pulse skyrocketing through the roof.

“Why don't you tell me what you feel?”

The challenge in his voice was unmistakable, and for a moment, you were tempted to rise to it. But then you remembered who you were, where you were, and what was at stake. You set your sandwich down, no longer pretending to have an appetite. Your hands found their way to the edge of the table, gripping it as though grounding yourself. His words echoed in your mind, sending ripples of frustration—and something far more dangerous—through you.

“I don’t have time for games, Lee. Not here. Not now. I'm here to do my job. That's it.”

You said finally, your voice steady but strained. His smirk faltered, just slightly, but the glint of mischief in his eyes didn’t fade. His tone was softer now, almost disarming. Almost. He could see your mask of professionalism begin to crack and falter. It drove you mad how well he was able to break through your walls.

“Who said anything about games? Maybe I’m just curious. Is that such a crime?”

You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to maintain the thin veneer of professionalism that separated you from falling into the uncharted territory he was steering toward. Lee leaned forward again, resting his arms on the table. His closeness made the room feel smaller, the air heavier. His gaze upon you made your entire body burn.

“Curiosity isn’t going to help you with that choreography, is it?”

“Maybe not. But it might help me understand why you keep looking at me like that.”

Your pulse spiked, your breath catching in your throat. Before you could register your own thought process, the words flew from your mouth. The question was sharp, defensive, but it only seemed to amuse him further as you spoke, almost challenging him.

“Like what? I'm supposed to watch you and Mark in action. Wh-what are you even trying to play here?”

“Like you’re trying not to notice. Not to feel. But you do, don’t you? You're observant, almost too observant. It's quite obvious.”

He said simply, his voice low and steady. The directness of his words sent a jolt through you, and for a moment, you were left speechless. He wasn’t wrong, and that was the problem. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, the tension coiling tighter around you, but you refused to let it show. Every fiber of your body burned and screamed for you to react, to move, to feed into his antics, yet, you remained steadfast in your professionalism.

“Y-you're imagining things. I've done no such thing. Your five minutes are up.”

You finally said, your tone clipped. You stood abruptly, grabbing your plate as if the act of leaving the table might somehow erase the moment, but as you turned to leave, his voice stopped you in your tracks.

“You keep saying that, yet you're still here. I can't help but wonder, why.”

The words hung in the air, pulling at something deep inside you. You didn’t turn around, couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze again. Instead, you let out a shaky breath and tighten your grip on the plate in your hands. You swallow thickly, fighting the urge to not feed into him, but it was damn near impossible.

“Five minutes. That's all this was. I have work that needs to be done.”

You said quietly, the words barely audible. With that, you step to leave the small room, your heart pounding in your chest as you fought to piece your composure back together. But even as you put distance between you and Lee, you couldn’t shake the weight of his words—or the way they seemed to linger, echoing long after you were gone.

The rest of the afternoon felt suffocating. Lee’s words reverberated in your head, a constant, nagging presence no matter how hard you tried to shake them off. You buried yourself in adjustments to the choreography notes, trying to ignore the way his gaze followed you as you walked back into the gym.

“Mark had to dip out early. Something came up on his end. We're calling it for the day.”

One of the crew members informs you as he passes. You lift your gaze from the laptop that rested on your thighs. Your stomach twisted at the realization. That left only one option. You tried to suppress the frustration—and something far more complicated—building inside you as you turned to Lee, who was already smirking as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. Sighing, you nod with acceptance.

“That's fine. We can call it a day—unless you wish to run the sequence together. Unless you have an objection.”

You said to Lee, keeping your voice neutral, professional. Something flickered in his eyes that made your heartbeat skyrocket. He made it look so easy to be as confident as he was. Your heart clenched as he walked towards you, gazing down at you. You could practically feel the confidence radiating from his body.

“None at all. In fact, I’ve been waiting for this opportunity. Who knows, maybe I can show you a thing or two.”

He replied, his tone all too smooth. You ignored the flicker of heat in his words and motioned for him to take his place on the mat. You set your laptop aside, stepping onto the padded surface with the deliberate movements of someone who wasn’t about to let her guard down.

“We’ll run through the first sequence—slowly. I want to make sure you’re hitting the angles correctly. We'll keep it simple.”

You said, feigning some confidence as you position yourself opposite him. Lee nodded, his expression suddenly serious, though the glint in his eye betrayed his amusement. As you moved into the starting stance, your proximity to him became painfully apparent. You could feel the heat of his body, the sheer physicality of his presence, and it sent a jolt of awareness through you that you struggled to ignore. Nodding to one another, indicating that you were both ready, you stepped into the beginnings of the sequence.

“Let’s start with the basic sequence. Just follow my lead.”

You said, raising your hands into a loose guard stance. The choreography wasn’t complicated in theory—a series of punches, blocks, and counters—but it demanded precision, a rhythm that Lee hadn’t quite mastered yet. Lee mirrored your stance, his expression serious but his eyes glinting with something far less disciplined. You ignored the flicker of warmth in your chest and focused on the task at hand. He threw the first punch, a slow jab meant to simulate the opening of the scene. You stepped back, your arm blocking his in a calculated motion before countering with a sharp strike of your own, your palm stopping inches from his chest.

“Good. But your footing’s off. You’re not grounded enough. If you shift your weight too far forward, it leaves you vulnerable.”

You stepped closer, reaching down to adjust his stance. Your fingers brushed against his calf as you nudged his foot back into place, and the brief contact sent an unexpected jolt through you. You stood quickly, gesturing for him to try again. This time, the rhythm came easier. His punches were sharper, his blocks more fluid, but there was still an edge to his movements—something almost... pointed. When he caught your strike mid-motion, his fingers closed around your wrist, holding it just long enough for your breath to hitch.

“Oohh. Looks like you hesitated.”

He smirked, his voice low, his grip firm but not harsh. His lips quirked into that maddening smirk, but he said nothing, resetting his stance. This time, you moved first, throwing a quick jab that he blocked with ease. The exchange quickened, each move building on the last.

“I didn't hesitate. “You’re supposed to deflect, not trap. Focus, Lee.”

You quip sharply, your tone sharper than intended. The choreography became a dance, your bodies moving in sync as the tension between you grew thicker with every motion. When the sequence brought you close—too close—Lee’s hand brushed your side, his palm grazing the curve of your waist as he twisted to avoid your strike. The contact was fleeting, but it left your skin burning, your thoughts scattered.

“Careful. Mind your distance.”

You remind him, your voice unsteady as you step back. His gaze locked onto yours, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. You felt frozen in place beneath his gaze. There was something different in the way he looked at you. That gaze he held was almost enough to tear down your walls. Almost. Your breath hitches in your throat as he steps closer, gazing down at you with a newfound intensity.

“Isn't that part of the choreography?”

He asked, his tone teasing but with an undercurrent of something far more serious. You stepped back into position, your body taut with both tension and purpose.

“Not this choreography. Focus. Again. From the top, Lee.”

You replied, your voice firm despite the way your heart pounded in your chest. Lee’s smirk lingered, but he obliged, resetting his stance. This time, you moved more quickly, pushing the pace of the sequence to force his focus. His first jab came fast, sharper now, and you blocked with precision. Your movements were fluid, each motion leading seamlessly into the next. But as the sequence progressed, the deliberate choreography began to blur, the rhythm shifting into something more instinctual, more reactive.

When his arm came up for a simulated hook, you ducked under it, your body twisting to avoid the strike. His other hand came up in a block, deflecting your counter, but the proximity brought you closer than either of you had anticipated. His breath fanned across your cheek, warm and uneven, and for a moment, everything else fell away. The only sounds that filled the tense atmosphere were the soft hum of the lights in the ceiling and the ragged but controlled breaths that escaped from you and Lee.

“You're fast. But not quite fast enough…”

He murmured, his voice low and close, as if the comment wasn’t meant to be heard. Your heart rate spiked again, but this time, it wasn't from adrenaline. There was something much deeper. You could feel it, and so could he. In a fluid motion, you pull away from him, regaining your composure.

“Still faster than you.”

You shot back, your tone sharper than intended as you stepped back to reset the space between you. But the words felt hollow, your pulse betraying you as it thundered in your ears. smirk returned, that maddeningly confident curl of his lips that made your resolve waver.

“Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that's a challenge.”

“Well—it's not. I-it's an observation. Again.”

You quip, refusing to fall victim to his antics. The sequence continued, but the careful precision of the choreography was slipping. Each move was sharper, each counter harder, as if the tension between you had found its outlet in the physicality of the fight. When he caught your wrist mid-motion, his grip was firm, his fingers pressing against your skin just enough to make your breath catch. He pulls you in closer, that same overconfident smirk at his lips.

“You hesitated again…”

He said, his voice a murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. You twisted free, countering with a strike aimed at his shoulder. His laugh was soft, almost breathless, as he stepped back, his stance loosening into something less practiced and more instinctual. Something changed in the air, the tensions shifting into something more tangible, more palpable.

“I did not hesitate.”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t think you believe it.”

The mat seemed smaller with every passing second. Each exchange between you and Lee grew more fluid, more intense, as if the scripted choreography had been abandoned entirely. It was no longer just about rehearsing for the scene; it had transformed into something more raw, an unspoken challenge that neither of you was willing to concede.

Lee lunged forward with a jab, his movements sharper, quicker now, forcing you to counter faster than anticipated. Your arm shot up to block, the impact reverberating through your muscles as you twisted to avoid his follow-through. Without missing a beat, you swept low, aiming a kick toward his side that he barely dodged. He then backed up a step, his chest heaving from exertion.

“Getting creative now, I see. What happened to focusing on the choreography, hm?”

He asked in a teasing tone. Everything about him radiated a comfortable confidence that you envied. He let his guard down, bringing his hands to rest on his hips. You hated that you found him attractive, the way your heart would skip a beat every time he entered the room.

“Just making sure you stay on your toes.”

You shot back, your tone crisp but betrayed by the faint smile tugging at your lips. He grinned, and the sight of it—confident, almost predatory—sent a jolt through you. The choreography had dissolved into something that felt more like a dance, the rhythm dictated not by script but by instinct. Every move brought you closer, every counter tightening the space between you. When he swept in with another strike, your hand shot up to block, but his momentum carried him forward, and suddenly you were chest-to-chest. His breath was hot against your temple, his hand resting against the curve of your waist for balance. Your pulse thundered in your ears, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

“Nice block.”

He murmured, his voice rough from exertion but laced with something else—something that sent a shiver down your spine. Before you could respond, you twisted free, resetting your stance. But the air between you was heavier now, charged with a tension that had nothing to do with the fight choreography. Your heart still thundered in your ears as you tried placing a distance from him.

“Don’t get distracted and cocky. Again. We're not done.”

You said, your voice sharper than intended as you tried to regain your focus. He chuckled softly, the sound low and infuriatingly self-assured, as he mirrored your stance. The back of your throat burned as you watched him.

“Are you sure that you can handle another round?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, refusing to rise to the bait. The sequence resumed, but the intensity had shifted. Every movement was deliberate, the space between you shrinking with each exchange. When you moved to sweep his leg, he countered with a swift block, his arm hooking around yours in a motion that sent you off balance. You stumbled, and in an instant, he stepped forward, using his momentum to guide you down onto the mat. The breath was knocked from your lungs as your back hit the cushioned surface. Before you could react, he was above you, his weight carefully balanced as he pinned your wrist to the mat. His other hand pressed against your shoulder, his grip firm but not harsh.

“Gotcha…”

He said, his voice low and triumphant, his face mere inches from yours. The world seemed to shrink around you, the heat of his body against yours making it impossible to think clearly. His eyes locked onto yours, and in that moment, the line between acting and reality blurred beyond recognition. Your chest heaves while your mind raced with a million thoughts, and not a single one was about the job at hand. The room felt unnaturally still, the distant hum of fluorescent lights doing little to mask the thunder of your heartbeat. Lee’s weight was distributed carefully, pinning you to the mat without exerting unnecessary pressure, but it was impossible to ignore the heat radiating from his body—or the way his breath was slightly uneven as it fanned across your cheek. His hand on your shoulder was firm, grounding, while his other hand still pinned your wrist to the mat, his grip steady but never harsh.

“Cat got your tongue?”

He murmured, the words laced with a teasing edge, but there was something softer in his tone that sent your pulse racing. Your breath hitched as his gaze met yours, steady and unyielding. His smirk softened slightly, replaced by an expression you couldn’t quite read—a flicker of something deeper, more sincere. The moment stretched, the weight of his presence blurring the lines between sparring partners and something far more precarious.

“Well…c-congratulations. But this—this isn't a part of what we rehearsed…”

You managed to say, your voice sharper than intended as you tried to regain control of the situation. He laughed softly, the sound low and rich, and damn him for how much you liked it. You scoffed, the sharp sound doing little to mask the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Maybe not—But I think this is the most focused you’ve been all day.”

He admitted, his tone light but his eyes still locked onto yours. The close proximity made your entire body burn with a longing need. You could feel his breath gently brush against your ear, making your skin tingle. It was a losing battle, every step you'd take towards maintaining professionalism, Lee somehow made you three steps back. It left you frustrated in numerous ways by the end of each day.

“And I think you’re enjoying this way too much.”

You shot back in an attempt to keep your emotions in check. As you lay there, pinned to the mat, your heart raced, fueled by a mixture of adrenaline and something much more personal. You could see the fine details of his face—the way the flickering gym lights caught the glint in his eyes, making them appear more like pools of deep blue. Time seemed to stretch, and with it, the space between fighting and flirting faded more with every lingering second.

“Maybe. And if I am? Can you really blame me here? You’re not exactly making it easy to stay professional here.”

Your mouth opened to respond, but no words came out. The weight of his admission—so blunt, so unflinching—left you momentarily speechless. His hand on your shoulder shifted slightly, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your shirt in a gesture so subtle you might have missed it if not for the way it sent a jolt through you. He leaned in a fraction closer, his breath mingling with yours. The challenge was clear in his eyes, daring you to break the last barrier standing between you.

“This—this isn’t professional…We’re supposed to be rehearsing. Not doing—whatever this is. Stop playing games.”

You finally stammered, though your voice lacked the conviction you’d hoped for. No matter how hard you tried, the tremor betrayed your resolve. You could feel the weight of his gaze, and it was as if he could read the turmoil simmering just beneath your surface. His smirk returned, but this time it was softened by an undercurrent of sincerity, making the moment feel dangerously real.

“Professionalism is overrated. I've seen the ways you've looked at me. The way you watch me out there in action. This feels like a win to me, doesn’t it? You have to give yourself some credit. You’ve been holding your own. But you make it far too easy sometimes.”

His words hung in the air, heavy and charged, as the tension between you reached a breaking point. You knew you should say something, do something to reestablish the boundaries you’d worked so hard to maintain. But for the first time, you found yourself hesitating—not out of uncertainty, but out of something far more dangerous.

“There’s a fine line between sparring and…whatever this is…”

You retorted, even as your heart pounded against your chest, caught between wanting to push him away and wanting to pull him closer. He released your wrist, but instead of moving back, he let his hand rest on your cheek, fingertips brushing your skin. His voice dropped to a whisper, sending a shudder through you.

“Maybe I like the idea of us crossing those lines. being unprofessional was such an issue, why aren't you fighting back, hm?”

Just then, the reality of the situation crashed over you. The gym—the rehearsals—the unwritten rules of professionalism. Was this truly where you wanted to tread? Yet, with him so close, that logical part of your mind began to blur into the background.

“What happens if we cross them?”

The words slipped from your lips before you could catch them, and you felt your cheeks flush. It was a question laced with both challenge and curiosity. Lee leaned closer, the heat radiating from him now palpable. He smiled, the playful glint in his eyes intensifying. The atmosphere thickened, charged with unspoken desires and the thrill of possibility. You silently cursed yourself for even allowing the question to leave your mouth.

“What happens if we cross those lines? Maybe—we find something none of us expected. Maybe we could discover a connection that defies all logic and reason. This chemistry between us? It’s not something you just ignore, and pretend it doesn’t exist… well, that’s just as dangerous, don’t you think?”

He repeated, emphasizing the weight of each word as if they were a boundary just waiting to be breached. The world around you faded, leaving only the two of you locked in this precarious dance of tension. You hesitated, your mind racing with the implications of his words. Would crossing that line lead to something more than just the adrenaline of the moment? The thrill of the unknown pulled at you, urging you to let go of your inhibitions, yet the fear of stepping into uncharted territory loomed just as large. The sincerity in his gaze softened your defenses. You were painfully aware of the magnetic pull between you, a force that had been building each day, yet now it felt like you were teetering on the edge of letting go of professionalism.

“Or maybe we ruin everything we’ve built here. It's not just my career on the line…it's yours too. Then what do we do?”

You finally countered, desperation creeping into your voice. It was a genuine concern, one that echoed in the recesses of your mind. You couldn't afford to let personal feelings interfere with the success you both had achieved. Your voice had dropped to a whisper towards the end, a mixture of fear and thrill sweeping through you. The question hung in the air, a fragile bridge over uncertain waters. Lee's expression turned serious, the playful banter dissolving as he searched your face for an answer.

“We figure it out together. But first, let’s not deny what’s right in front of us. Let’s acknowledge the sparks flying between us. Let’s see where it leads. You can't deny that you want to.”

He replied earnestly, his thumb continuing to trace gentle patterns against your cheek. With those words, he shifted ever so slightly, his lips almost brushing against yours—an electric moment that felt suspended in time. You could feel the urge to close the distance, to finally bridge the gap that had haunted you since the very beginning. You started to speak. your heart racing, suddenly torn between what was right and what felt so undeniably real. Every fiber of your being screamed for you to embrace this moment, to lean into what might be—a chance to let go of the rigid boundaries and explore the raw, unfiltered connection that had developed.

The tension in the room was thick, a fine, delicate balance of anticipation and uncertainty. The banter between you and Lee had escalated into something more than mere flirtation. It was a looming question of crossing boundaries and embracing the unknown, a crossroads that could redefine not only your professional relationship but the entire framework of your lives and potentially careers. As Lee’s warm breath mingled with the air between you, the stakes became more clear. The fear of losing everything you had worked so hard for clashed with the undiscovered thrill of possibility. Each heartbeat echoed in your ears like a drum roll for the unfolding moment. You could feel your resolve wavering, the careful barriers you'd constructed beginning to crumble under the weight of your shared chemistry and this intense gaze. You searched his eyes for clarity, hoping to find reassurance amid the chaos of your thoughts. What would it mean to give in to this connection? Would it bring joy, or would it lead to disaster? The unspoken potential loomed large, tempting you to take that leap of faith.

“And if we can't go back? Then what?”

You asked quietly, vulnerability lacing your tone. Lee's expression softened, his gaze unwavering.

“Sometimes, the risks we take are what lead us to the most profound experiences in life. It’s about understanding that sometimes, letting go can lead to what we truly desire.”

That statement struck a chord deep within you. Could this really be the moment you’d been both yearning for and dreading? In the quiet turmoil of your thoughts, you realized that denying this connection could be just as destructive as acting on it. You inhaled sharply, feeling the gravity of his insight. The concept of loss loomed large, but perhaps the real loss would be in forgoing this chance—the chance to explore the depths of your connection. The walls you had built in the name of professionalism began to feel less like protection and more like a cage.

“Say we dive into this—but we sink and drown? Then what?”

You murmured, the vulnerability in your voice a stark contrast to the once authoritative tone you held before. Lee leaned closer, his presence warm and grounding. His voice was low, filled with conviction as he brushed his thumb against your cheek in a way that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“We might drown, but we might also swim—I can’t promise it won’t be messy, but I can promise you this—whatever happens, we’ll be in it together.”

His words stirred something deep within you, a blend of exhilaration and fear. You steadied your breath, drawn to the earnestness in his expression, the way his sincerity seemed to strip everything back, exposing the beating hearts beneath your professional facades. With each shared heartbeat, the tension between you crackled like electricity, the air thickening with unshared breaths and a million unsaid feelings. As the distance between you evaporated, you could feel the warmth radiating from him. The moment drew you in, a gravitational pull that felt both daunting and undeniable. The faint scent of his cologne mixed with sweat from such a vigorous workout enveloped you, intoxicating and familiar, grounding you even as your head spun with possibilities. You could see it now—the potential that lay within that simple act of connection.

Your heart thudded loudly in your chest as you allowed yourself to lean in, closing the scant distance that had felt insurmountable mere moments ago. The soft brush of Lee’s lips against yours sent a thrill through your entire being. It was tentative at first, a gentle exploration that quickly deepened into a passionate embrace. Every doubt faded, dissolving in the warmth of the kiss, as though the act itself had the power to erase the lines between your lives. In that moment, as the kiss deepened, you surrendered to what had been simmering beneath the surface for too long. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment that felt infinite. The thrill of possibility surged through your veins, incandescent and alive. You realized this was not merely a kiss—it was the culmination of everything you had feared and desired, a harmonious blend of passion and tenderness that promised not just to alter your lives, but to redefine them entirely.

As the kiss deepened, a rush of heat enveloped you both, igniting a whirlwind of emotions that had been lurking beneath the surface for so long. Your hands found their way to Lee's bare chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingers—steady and reassuring. That connection grounded you, anchoring you amidst the chaotic swirl of desire and fear that danced in your mind. His skin was warm and inviting, a canvas that you desperately wanted to explore. You traced the contours of his muscles, each gentle press igniting a deeper spark of longing within you. The kiss was intoxicating, a fusion of tenderness and urgency that seemed to pulse with the unspoken words you both shared. Your bodies aligned perfectly, fitting together as if creating a puzzle that had long awaited its missing piece. The way his lips moved against yours was both electric and soft, each caress urging you to lose yourself further in the moment.

With every sigh and soft gasp, you could feel the weight of your worries dissipating, replaced by an exhilarating thrill that wrapped around your hearts like a warm embrace. This was a dance of emotions, each beat propelling you forward, urging you to explore the depths of what had been held back for so long. There were many sleepless nights you fantasized and imagined what this moment would be like; it was far better than any ounce of imagination you could conjure in the depths of your mind. As you melted into him, your fear transformed into passion, shaping the contours of this newfound, broken boundary. The kiss intensified, becoming a fervent ultimatum against the chaos of your shared lives—a promise that no matter the outcome, this moment belonged to you both. It spoke of vulnerability, of saying yes to the uncharted territory ahead, of daring to plunge into the abyss of potential joy and heartbreak together.

The world outside faded, leaving only the softness of his whisper against your skin and the taste of hope lingering on your lips. In that breathless moment, you realized that the uncertainty had become part of the beauty, a paradox that had drawn you closer. You were not just surrendering to desire; you were embracing a bond forged in mutual understanding and uncharted tensions, a connection that shimmered with possibility. Time seemed to stretch, cloaking you in a cocoon of endless want and need, where nothing else mattered. You could feel his hands roaming across your arms, his touch a warm contrast against the cool air surrounding you. With every inch of your skin that he explored, you felt barriers melt away, paving the way for raw sincerity and wild hope. As you finally broke the kiss, both of you breathless and wide-eyed, the reality of your situation hung in the air like a promise yet unfulfilled. The tension had transformed into something tangible and potent, like a sigh you both had been aching to exhale. You searched his gaze for reassurance, for clarity, and there it was—a raw honesty that mirrored your own whirlwind of emotions.

Lee's eyes held a depth of understanding, a reflection of your shared uncertainty and hope for what lay ahead. His warm gaze searched yours, as if trying to decipher every nuance of the swirling emotions within you both. There was a flicker of vulnerability in his expression, echoing your own—a silent acknowledgment that despite the thrill of the moment, the future was still murky. Yet in that gaze, you also saw a determination that ignited a fierce warmth in your chest. As the air between you thickened, the weight of his promise hung vividly in the silence—a commitment to face whatever storms might come, together. With each rhythmic pulse of your heart, you felt empowered by the decision you had made in that single, electric moment. No longer were you just colleagues bound by duty; you were two souls willing to dance on the edges of the unknown. The vulnerability that once felt so daunting now seemed like an inviting tapestry, woven with threads of hope, excitement, and a hint of danger. The thought of possibly sinking was overshadowed by the exhilarating image of swimming side by side, navigating every wave that life threw your way.

You could feel the heat of the moment swirling—almost intoxicating—yet deeply grounding. It was a stark reminder of just how far you both had come, and how far you were willing to go. The fading echoes of laughter and life outside your bubble felt like a distant memory, replaced by the heartbeat of two people ready to dive deep into something far greater than themselves. With a mingling of trepidation and exhilaration, you thought about what lay beyond this moment—the late-night talks, the challenges, the inevitable bumps in the road. Lee brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your skin, sparking electric currents that sent shivers down your spine. His gentle touch was comforting and soothing, unraveling any lingering doubts. As Lee leaned closer, the world outside faded further, leaving just the two of you suspended in this intimate moment. The anticipation hung thick in the air, charged with the thrill of what could come next. His fingers, still tucked behind your ear, trailed down the side of your neck, igniting a delicious warmth that spread through your body, urging you to take that leap into the unknown. Instinctively, you arch your neck as his fingers trailed down.

“Let's get out of here, while it's just us.”

He whispered softly, his breath brushing against your skin, creating an electric connection neither of you could ignore. There was an urgency in his voice, layered with a hint of mischief that sent your heart racing. The weight of the gym's fluorescent lights felt stifling compared to the intoxicating heat of his presence. You hesitated for just a heartbeat, the gravity of the suggestion looming large. The promise of something more private sparked a mixture of excitement and apprehension within you. But as you locked eyes with Lee, the trepidation began to dissolve. The temptation was too alluring to resist, and you could sense that he felt the same pull towards what lay beyond the boundaries of your routine.

“O-okay…”

You breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, but with a newfound determination. The decision hung between you like a half-formed promise, brimming with the potential to transform your relationship entirely. The journey to his trailer felt like a whirlwind, each step charged with anticipation. Once inside, the atmosphere shifted again. The space was softly dimmed, a stark contrast to the bright, bustling world outside. As the door clicked shut behind you, a sense of privacy deepened the connection already blossoming between you. Lee stepped closer, his presence almost magnetic as he reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers in a gesture that felt both casual and significant. The warmth of his touch ignited every nerve ending in your body, an unspoken promise of what might come next. He drew you in, and you found yourself against him, heart racing and breath hitching in your throat as you shared a nervous laugh, a fleeting moment breaking the tension.

“You really think we should…”

You started, a hint of uncertainty lacing your tone. But the spark in your eyes contradicts your words, reflecting shared desire and unshakeable chemistry. The privacy of the small space invited exploration, so instead of answering, he closed the gap between you once more, bringing his lips to yours in a soft, lingering kiss that only heightened the electric charge in the air. It was a kiss filled with promise, a silent agreement to embrace whatever was to come. The outside world no longer existed; it was just you two, caught in a moment where everything felt possible. Your fingers eagerly become entangled in his hair, desperately pulling him in closer. His hands find your waist, pulling you against his hardened body. With a surge of excitement, Lee wraps his strong hands around your waist, his touch igniting a flutter in your stomach. As he effortlessly lifts you, a sharp gasp escapes you, his fingers glide lower, tracing the curve of your body past your hips and the plump mounds of your ass, gliding along the backs of your thighs. In one fluid motion, he hoists you up, and instinctively, you wrap your legs around him, feeling the warmth of his embrace as he holds you securely against him. He steadies you against his strong frame, his arms securely supporting you as you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. He maintains a firm grip, ensuring you're comfortable, while the warmth of his body envelops you. With a gentle but confident stride, he carries you toward the bed, his movements fluid and purposeful. As he approaches the bed, he carefully shifts his hold, lowering you softly onto his lap, allowing you to straddle him. His strong hands rest on your waist, providing a sense of support and security. The closeness between you heightens the intimacy of the moment, as you share a look that conveys your connection, both playful and tender. As you pull back, Lee’s gaze was unwavering, filled with warmth and a mischievous glint, a cocky smirk at his lips.

“Guess we’re ditching the gym for a workout of a different kind?”

He teased, and that playful remark relaxed the last of your nerves. You smiled, feeling a sense of freedom wash over you, making space for all the countless possibilities ahead. Lee’s smirk was infectious, breaking the seriousness of the moment and drawing a laugh from you that felt like the first breath after being submerged. As you nestled against him, the world outside faded entirely, leaving only the warmth of his body and the flickering shadows that played across the walls. Lee's hands moved expertly, his fingertips trailing along your back, igniting sparks that traveled southward, stirring the heat building between you. His touch was confident yet gentle, as if he was navigating a landscape he both knew and sought to discover anew. The way he looked at you kindled something fierce within—a compelling mix of hunger and tenderness that sent your heart racing.

“Just think about it—no more interruptions; just us…”

He murmured, his breath warm against your ear. There was a gravity to his voice, and the sincerity in his tone made your stomach flutter with anticipation. You nodded, caught in his orbit, fully aware that this was a significant shift. With a playful tilt of your head, you brushed your lips teasingly against his, a flirtation that spoke volumes to the wildness that was unfolding. The kiss deepened, mutual in its eagerness; it was exploratory, as if both of you were tasting the nuances of each other's emotions—the thrill of diving into the unknown together. As the kiss lingered, Lee’s grip around your waist tightened, drawing you closer still, each gentle squeeze a reassurance in this teasing dance. The weight of his body against yours was intoxicating, giving rise to a warm, buoyant feeling that surged through you. Your hands slowly trailed down his neck to his shoulders and down to his chest. You could feel his thundering heartbeat against your palm.

“I can’t believe I almost said no…it feels wrong, but this feels so right.”

You breathed against his lips, your heart racing. His grin widened, illuminating the room as he gazed into your eyes, that playful intensity glinting like the stars outside. The confidence in his voice steadied you, a bold declaration that both challenged and reassured you as he spoke.

“Good thing you didn’t. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words, but somehow, you knew he was right. Lee's fingers tremble slightly as he grips the lower hem of your shirt, his eyes searching yours for any sign of willingness. The room feels charged with unspoken emotions, and you can sense the deep connection that's been building between you. There's a mix of eagerness and respect in his demeanor, showing that he values your comfort and consent above all else. His breath quickens as you nod, giving him the go-ahead. With careful deliberation, he lifts the shirt slightly, revealing just a hint of skin. The movement is slow, almost reverent, as if he’s uncovering a treasure he’s longed to see. You can feel the warmth radiating between you, a silent dialogue of trust and curiosity.

With a shared drawing breath, you surrendered to the moment. The tension that had once seemed so daunting now felt like a thrilling invitation, one that beckoned you deeper into the possibilities of your connection. As he explores, your heart races, not just from the physical closeness, but from the raw intimacy of the moment. His fingers gently trace along the exposed flesh, igniting a sense of discovery as you both delve deeper into this shared experience. With every touch, every tentative movement, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this heightened reality. As Lee's mouth begins to move against your throat, a shiver races down your spine. The gentle warmth of his breath sends ripples of sensation that feel both exquisite and electrifying. His kisses are featherlight but filled with intention, each one igniting a fire that pools deep within. You can’t help but gasp softly, the sound escaping you like a secret whispered in the dark.

His hands roam freely now, exploring the contours of your body with a tenderness that both grounds you and sets you ablaze. As he trails downward, his mouth dances along your collarbones, paying careful attention to every curve and dip, each kiss stirring a delightful anticipation in your chest. The world outside fades further into oblivion, the only sounds that matter now are the soft whispers of your breaths and the quiet moans that slip past your lips. Your entire body felt ablaze from the newly discovered attention you had craved for months. Your eyes flutter at the sensation his hot breath against your skin draws deep from within your body. You try to bite back a whimpering moan at the sensation of feeling his rapidly hardening cock pressing against the inside of your thigh. Even through the fabrics of your clothes, you could feel his cock throb.

With a sudden rush of courage, you feel a yearning to offer more of yourself to him. You reach behind your back, fingers trembling slightly as you unclasp your bra. The fabric falls away, and you feel the cool air collide with your skin, igniting your senses. The cool air laps at your skin, sending chills down your spine. The vulnerability of the moment intertwines with the thrill of surrender, and as you look into Lee’s eyes, it’s as if you’re inviting him into a deeper realm of intimacy and exploration. The moment deepens as he shifts his focus, tracing the outline of your newly exposed skin with soft, lingering kisses. Each touch from his mouth feels like a promise, a call to explore the depths of what lies between you. His head dips down to explore the newly exposed skin of your supple breasts. His fingers glide over your curves, mapping the terrain of your body as he loses himself in the sensation, completely captivated and enamored by your beauty. Your head lulls back, a soft moan falls from your lips as you arch into his hands and the demanding heat of his mouth.

As the moment continues to unfold, the emotions swirling around you both become palpable, almost physically and visually tangible. The electric tension and chemistry that has been building for so long had finally reached a breaking point, and now, with each shared touch, it’s released like a dam overflowing and breaking. You can feel the warmth of Lee's body against yours, a constant reminder of his presence that both comforts and exhilarates you, that this moment is far more than just a figment of your imagination. His eyes, filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness, reflect a deep understanding of the gravity and passion of the moment. Every brush of his fingertips against your skin sends shockwaves of warmth cascading through you, igniting every fiber of your body. You sense his heartbeat quicken, mirroring your own racing pulse, creating a rhythm that pulsates between you. This synchronization of your bodies forms an unspoken bond, as each of your explorations brings you closer than you’ve ever been.

The mix of excitement, longing, and nervousness coursing through you heightens every moment, every gentle caress, every heated moan and sigh. As Lee’s soft kisses travel down your collarbone, you can’t help but exhale a needy sigh, feeling as though he’s unlocking something deep within you. Your fingers eagerly become entangled in his hair as his mouth hungrily envelops one of your nipples. His tongue expertly swirls around the tender bud while his hand eagerly envelops and gropes the other. His fingers traced the outline of your areola, slowly, languidly, he takes your hardening nipple between his fingers. The sensation of your nipple being gently rolled and tugged on between his fingers made your velvety walls clench and quiver with need. The world outside your shared space ceases to exist; it’s as if time has stopped, leaving only the two of you in this cocoon of warmth, passion, exploration and intimacy. You are both fully present, basking in the euphoria of connection as feelings of desire intertwine with deep affection and the longing need to finally exhale months of sexual tensions and undeniable chemistry.

With every touch, every lingering kiss, the air thickens with unsaid words and promises. The vulnerability you feel isn’t just about skin; it’s exposure of the heart, the unveiling of your true selves. As your breaths mingle, the sensation becomes intoxicating, coaxing out soft gasps and moans that express what words can’t capture. Lee’s hands, though tentative, are laced with intention, exploring the curves and contours of your body as if memorizing a cherished map. In that intimate space, you realize this is more than just a culmination of desire; it’s a celebration of trust and an awakening of something profound. The moments stretch, and you pull him closer, encouraging him to explore deeper, to traverse this landscape of flesh and emotion together. Each exchange, each sigh, whispers stories of longing and dreams, weaving the tapestry of your connection tighter. You surrender to this tide of emotion, allowing it to wash over you, drawing you and Lee closer. It’s exhilarating to finally embrace what has been building between you, and in this shared vulnerability, you discover a sanctuary—an invitation to trust and explore the depths of each other, beyond the physical, into the realms of intertwined souls.

As the remnants of any remaining rationale fades away completely, the only sensations that matter are those between your bodies, the passionate dance of exploration and desire enveloping you both. Each breath you take is deeper, more raspy, as the heat of the moment envelops you like a warm embrace. You feel every heartbeat—a frantic rhythm echoing through your body, seizing the air around you with an urgency that vibrates between you two. Lee’s hands roam with a mix of gentle caresses and hungry exploration, igniting currents of electricity with every touch. When his fingers glide along your skin, you’re acutely aware of their path, tracing a firework trail straight to your core. The way he pauses to savor each reaction, each gasp, sends shivers of excitement coursing through you, amplifying your need for him. The intimate whispers of your breaths become a symphony that punctuates this exquisite moment, urging him on, inviting him to delve deeper into your desires.

You can’t help but lose yourself in every kiss he places along the soft swell of your breasts, his mouth attentive and fervent, igniting sensations that wrap around you like tendrils of a sweet melody. Each flick of his tongue sends jolts of pleasure directly to your core, where a pool of longing awaits. It's as if his very essence seeps into you with each kiss, creating a primal need far more significant than physical touch and caress. With each gasp that escapes your lips, the air thickens with your shared exhilaration and sexual need. You feel the weight of his body pressing more into yours as he pulls you closer, each inch a comforting assurance that he’s fully present and eagerly reciprocating the intensity of the moment. The rhythm of your mingled breaths echoes the heartbeats that race in unison, revealing the profound connection shared in this cocoon of intimacy. The world’s noise is drowned out by the soft sounds of skin against skin and the quiet, needy sighs that reveal your unfiltered desire. As your fingers intertwine in his hair, you guide him to explore, to discover every inch of you with sacred reverence. The thought of vulnerability flows through you like a wave; each gentle caress feels like a step deeper into uncharted territory. You revel in the sensation of being laid bare before him, your heart racing in response to the raw honesty of the moment. With each new exploration, every shudder of pleasure emanating from deep within, you realize that you're not just surrendering physically but also emotionally, trusting him with your most intimate self.

Emboldened, you allow one of your hands to travel down between your bodies. Your hand splays across his lap as you eagerly palm his hardened member through the sweatpants he wore. A heated and breathy groan rises into his throat at the sensation. You venture deeper, your hand exploring the contours of his body as if mapping out every ridge and muscle. The quiet sounds that slip from his lips—soft groans mingled with needy breaths—fuel your desire, encouraging you to delve further into this uncharted desire. You can feel how he responds to each touch, the way his body leans into yours, eager and compliant, as 

he too is discovering the beauty of surrender to such desire. His breath hitches in the back of his throat as you drag the heel of your palm along his throbbing length. Each breath that leaves his lips is more shaky than the last as he melts into your touch. As Lee leans more into your touch, his body fitting perfectly against yours, you can feel the warmth radiating from him, an unspoken need of the desire coursing through both of you. His eyes close momentarily, lips parting as the breathless sounds escape him, each groan a mix of longing and need that reverberates within you, urging you to explore further.

“Fuck—Please…I crave more of you… I want to touch every part of you, to make you feel as alive as you make me feel…I want to feel every inch of you…”

He murmurs, his voice a low, husky whisper that sends shivers down your spine. There's a pleading vulnerability in his confession, a raw honesty that draws you closer. You can sense his anticipation, the way he shifts slightly, leaning into your palm, as if your touch has sparked a flame within him that cannot be extinguished. The sweatpants cling to him, hinting at the contours beneath, igniting your own desire to explore his skin—the heat, the softness, the intoxicating scent of him. Slowly, your fingers trace towards the waistband of his sweatpants, a teasing exploration that elicits another deep groan from him. Your fingers  slowly dive beneath the surface of his pants and boxers. He inhales sharply as your fingers move to wrap around his hardened member. Your thumb gently grazed across the swollen tip that had become faintly moist with precum. He exhales a shaky breath, allowing himself to succumb completely to his need to feel you even more.

“I need you…I need you more than ever…”

He confesses breathlessly, his need intermingling with a sense of urgency that makes your heart race. You lock eyes with him; it’s a wordless promise, a shared understanding of the depths of longing that binds you together. Slowly, your hand moves along his length, pumping his neglected erection. You lean in closer to him, your lips tenderly brushing against his ear.

“I need you too…let me show you just how much I've needed you…”

You whisper, the evening air thick with desire, as you surrender to the gnawing ache that pooled between your thighs. You take a deep breath, feeling the intensity between you grow as you begin to slide down from his lap. The warmth of his body lingers on your skin, and your heart races with anticipation. With a feverish urgency, you tug his sweatpants and boxers down his thighs, feeling the fabric slip away, and toss the garments aside, creating a sense of liberation and intimacy. Lee watches you, his gaze filled with a mix of desire, love, lust and vulnerability, a silent encouragement that pushes you further.

As you kneel between his legs, you can’t help but admire the way he shifts slightly, welcoming your presence. Your hands find their way to his thighs, fingertips trailing along the muscular contours, eliciting a shiver from him. You explore slowly, savoring the way his skin feels beneath your touch, each brush igniting a deeper yearning. You glance up at him, your eyes locking, and in that moment, you see the longing mirrored back at you. There’s an unspoken connection, a promise of what’s to come. You continue your exploration, hands gradually moving higher, feeling the tension building within him, the way he responds instinctively to your every touch. Lee bites his lip, the breath catching in his throat as your fingers dance along the outline of his desire, drawing closer with each gentle caress.

Leaning in closer, you slowly drag your tongue along the prominent vein that throbbed on the underside of his cock. The wet heat of your tongue against the velvety smooth skin of his cock elicits a desperate groan from his lips. His fingers find their way into your hair, fisting a handful at the base of your neck as he guides you gently, pushing you closer. Each movement is filled with a mix of urgency and tenderness, a silent communication that deepens the intimacy between you. The way he grips your hair drives you wild, igniting a fire within you, making you crave the connection even more. This connection you felt was far better than any of your wildest fantasies. Wrapping your fingers around him, you slowly pump your hand along his girthy length. Eagerly, you take the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the throbbing tip of his cock. The precum that had glistened on the tip was the perfect mix of subtly salty and sweet; the taste against your tongue earns a heated and appreciative moan from you.

You hum softly in acknowledgment of the heated sounds that escape him, the throaty gasps and soft moans fueling your desire. The vibrations send tingling sensations coursing through you, and you can feel a rhythmic pulse of pleasure building inside, entwined with the pleasure you give. You close your eyes for a moment, immersing yourself in the experience, feeling every nuance of his reaction, keenly aware of the way he responds to your movements. With each movement of your head, and with the encouragement from Lee, you could feel his cock be invited down your throat. Saliva drips from between your lips, coating your chin as you continue to bob your head along his length. Each movement, you could feel your throat relax more, allowing more of him to fill your throat and mouth.

Yet, amidst the pleasure you’re providing him, there’s an undeniable ache within your own body, a craving for release. The need for your own satisfaction heightens as you focus intently on pleasing him, each motion charged with longing, each moment a mix of ecstasy and desire. As the intensity of the moment deepens, you feel Lee's grip on your hair become more pronounced, guiding the pace at which you move. There’s a raw energy in his touch that sends shivers down your spine. With each deliberate motion, he controls the rhythm, pushing you down further when he wants to feel that closeness, that complete connection between you. You find a breathless rhythm, and as you pull away slightly, gasping for air, you sense the mix of sensations swirling around you. Saliva glistens on your chin and lips as you gulp down air. Your eyes meet his, his gaze clouded with a mix of longing, passion, and need. The warmth and slickness of your saliva on your chin and lips add to the overwhelming intensity, and you can feel the heat radiating from both of you.

As you focus on the pleasure you’re giving, a few tears escape your eyes, a natural response to the sudden lack of air, but they only serve to heighten the experience. As your breath comes in ragged gasps, you can feel a magnetic energy pulsating between you, an unspoken connection that deepens with every moment. Both your eyes are wide, dilated with pleasure and a shared need, reflecting the fire ignited in this heated exchange. The air around you is thick with intensity, a tangible embodiment of your desires intertwining. Lee’s grip on your hair tightens slightly, not out of force, but rather an invitation—a pulling in that invites you into a more intimate space. He draws you closer, his lips capturing yours in a fervent kiss that ignites your senses. It’s a kiss filled with urgency and warmth, a melding of your breaths that perfectly punctuates the depth of what you both craved the most. The taste of him lingers, sweet yet intoxicating on your lips and tongue. The heat of his body against yours, the softness of his lips, and the intensity in his gaze all meld together, creating a sublime sense of connection that goes beyond mere pleasure. Each kiss reinforces the bond, leaving you both breathless and craving more, as the unrelenting need for each other surges through both your veins.

With a sudden burst of energy, Lee gently but firmly coaxes you closer, tilting the balance of power in this heated exchange. In an effortless motion, he flips your positions, laying you back against the softness of the mattress. Your chest heaves with the intensity of the shift, each breath a delightful mixture of anticipation and exhilaration. As you look up into his eyes, he leans in, his voice low and filled with eager promise.

“Now it's your turn…you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this…”

He murmurs, a teasing smile playing on his lips. His desire to reciprocate the pleasure you’ve given him ignites a fire within you, knowing that this moment is equally about exploring and savoring the connection you've cultivated together. With his swift yet careful hands, he begins to remove your pants and panties, a soothing gesture filled with reverence. He tsks quietly, seeing just how wet you were from the dampness that had soaked your psnties. There’s a thrill in your vulnerability, knowing he is just as eager to please you as you were to please him. Each piece of clothing discarded amplifies the electricity in the room, leaving a trail of anticipation in its wake.

“Look at you…you're so fucking wet for me. This is still what you want?”

His words hung heavily in the air. Your chest rose and fell as you watched him intently. Lee's focus is unwavering, his eyes locked onto you with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. It was just the two of you enveloped in this shared exploration, ready to embrace the next level of intimacy that awaits. Every brush of his fingers against your skin feels electric, every glance charged with promise as he awaits your response. You nod eagerly, surrendering to the burning need that roared within your body. Shyly, your legs opened more for him, inviting him in to savor you just as you had savored him. Your heart races as Lee's intentions become clear, the air thick with tension and anticipation. His hands glide slowly along your legs, the delicate touch sending sparks through your entire body. He deliberately avoids the heat pooling between your thighs, building the suspense and heightening your craving for his touch.

As he leans down, your breath catches, heart pounding louder with each kiss and gentle bite he plants along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The sensations amplify as his hands grip your thighs, strong yet tender, as he positions himself between your legs. You feel the weight of his presence, a mixture of dominance and care, as he rests your legs over his shoulders, creating an intimate space where only you two exist. His voice is a low growl, thick with desire, as his gaze holds yours. It feels like time stands still for a moment, every second stretching with possibility. You feel vulnerable yet empowered under his scrutiny, every breath you take echoing your longing.

“Look at you…you're perfect…”

The tension between you crackles with electricity as his eyes flicker with excitement and promise, igniting a fire within you that begs to be stoked further. The anticipation swells as Lee positions himself lower, his breath hot against your skin. The moment he lowers his head between your legs, you feel a rush of excitement mixed with vulnerability. His kisses are soft at first, exploring the delicate skin on the inside of your thighs, sending ripples of sensation coursing through you. Each bite is teasing yet intentional, igniting the sensitive nerves that crave his touch. He gently places your legs over his shoulders, the position leaves you fully exposed to him. With each movement, he brings you closer to the edge of your desires, his body language speaking volumes about his intentions. His intense gaze never leaves yours, locking you in a silent agreement that strengthens the bond between you.

As he works his way closer to where you need him most, the heat between your thighs becomes unbearable, your body thrumming with anticipation. His slow, deliberate pace heightens the tension, each gentle touch an invitation to let go of inhibition. You can see the hunger in his eyes, a primal urge mirrored in the way your body reacts, instinctively arching towards him, seeking the relief only he can provide. The back of your throat burned with anticipation to be devoured by him. For months, you had found yourself imagining and thinking of scenarios just like this one, and now, it was no longer just a vivid thought, dream or fantasy. You mewl heatedly, almost begging him to devour you.

“Hold on for me. You won't regret it. You're all mine…”

He murmurs, his voice low and seductive, wrapping around you like a velvet touch. Every syllable adds to the electric charge in the air, making your heart race even faster. You nod, breathless, surrendering fully to this moment, ready for the ecstasy that awaits. He finally shifts his focus to the junction between your thighs, his intentions clear. As his mouth approaches, you can feel his breath grow hotter as his mouth draws closer to your slick folds. Like a crashing wave, you exhale a damn near pornographic moan as he presses a chaste kiss against your velvety folds. He eagerly drives his tongue into your pussy, slowly swiping it through your folds. He groans at the deliciously, delicate taste of your arousal on his tongue.

As Lee's mouth descends, every nerve in your body is awakened. His tongue moves with purpose, a soft, delicate exploration that sends electric tingles coursing through you. You can feel the warmth of his breath mingling with the cool air, heightening your awareness of each subtle shift. With a gentle sweep of his tongue, he tastes you, savoring the sweetness of your essence. Each movement is deliberate—slow, teasing, building a tension that leaves you breathless. The way his mouth encompasses you feels like a warm embrace, wrapping you in comfort and desire. You can’t help but notice how he relishes every moment, as if discovering a hidden treasure. Your fingers become entangled in his hair; your nails softly scratching his scalp, encouraging him even further. His gaze remains locked on yours, filled with an intensity that deepens the connection between you. Each flick of his tongue sends shivers down your spine, urging you to surrender further to the sensations. He seems to be attuned to your every reaction, adjusting his rhythm and pressure, responding to the soft gasps that escape from your lips, the way you grind yourself aching cunt into his mouth, and the way your nails scratch at his scalp.

As he continues, his head moves rhythmically, a natural flow that mimics the tides—sometimes gentle, sometimes forceful, yet always captivating. It's the way he immerses himself wholly in the moment, intent on evoking pleasure from you, that adds an intoxicating layer to the experience. You inhale sharply as he uses two fingers to spread open your glistening sex, admiring how aroused you had become. You find yourself lost in the rhythm, the world around you fading beneath the waves of sensation coursing through your core. Each delicious taste seems to inspire him further, igniting a hunger that feels all-consuming. He dips his head back down to your dripping sex, eagerly enveloping you once again.As Lee continues, the sensations escalate, enveloping you in a haze of pleasure. His tongue expertly dances over your slick arousal, each movement deliberate and tantalizing, exploring the curves and folds with an exquisite slowness that leaves you gasping for more. The warmth of his mouth surrounds you, creating a cocoon of heat that amplifies every electric pulse radiating from your core.

With each lap of his tongue, you can feel a delicious swirl of warmth building within you—a rising tide of pleasure that threatens to overwhelm your senses. Lee's focus is unwavering, and his technique ignites a primal response; you instinctively arch your back, seeking deeper contact, urging him on. The way he alternates between soft, teasing strokes and firmer, demanding movements keeps you on a precipice of desire, teetering between bliss and urgency. You throw your head back as his thumb presses tight, languid circles against your clit. Each movement sends jolts of electrifying bliss through your body that makes your legs tremble from the stimulation. Your nails find their way into his hair, fingers tangling with the soft strands, urging him closer. Each gentle tug is a silent plea for more, spurring him to delve deeper into the sensations you crave. You can feel him responding to you, the way his groans reverberate through your core, enhancing the connection between your bodies. The combination of his fervent devotion and the way he explores your body with such intent sends waves of pleasure crashing over you, building with each moment. The tension coils tighter and tighter within your core, urging you ever closer to that sweet release.

“Lee…just like that…like that…”

You pant, breathless, each swipe, flick, and roll of his tongue pulls you closer to the edge of sweet release. The words spill out as though each syllable was crafted from the pleasure building inside you. The tension coiling tighter within you is intoxicating—an exquisite mix of anticipation and desire. You feel your body’s response to him intensify, every nerve ending alive and buzzing with the electric thrill of his touch. It’s as if time has stilled, each moment stretching out into infinity as you surrender fully to the waves of pleasure crashing over you. The sensations swirl and mingle, a dance of heat and longing, driving you ever closer to a place of complete surrender. With every exquisite motion, Lee seems to read your body like an open book, tuning into the rhythm of your breath and the way your hips instinctively move towards him. Each firm stroke of his tongue sends ripples of ecstasy surging through you, a melody of sensations playing a sweet symphony in your mind.

“That's it…relax…let go…fuck…”

He murmurs, his voice a low, sultry whisper that wraps around you, grounding you even as you feel yourself slipping further into the realm of bliss. You obey, surrendering fully to the sensations that flood your senses, each flick and swirl drawing you closer to that precipice where everything feels heightened and alive. He quickens the pace a fraction, driving you toward that edge, each flick of his tongue sending you spiraling higher. You can’t help but grind against him, desperate for that sweet pressure that sends the heat pooling more intensely within you. Hints of urgency lace through the pleasure, and you feel it build like a powerful wave, ready to crash over you.

“Lee…I—Oh fuck…”

You breathe out, a soft cry infused with longing as you press your body closer, seeking that delightful friction, that connection that seems to ignite every nerve ending. His attention remains relentless, determined, coaxing every drop of pleasure from within you, teasing and savoring the way your body responds. As his thumb remains a steady and insistent presence, you can feel the tight coil of tension winding tighter, spiraling with each thrust of his tongue. He shifts his angle slightly, discovering new depths of pleasure within you, and you gasp as a new wave of sensations washes over, the heat pooling uncontainably.

“Like that…just like that…don't stop. Please don't stop…you're gonna make me cum…”

You plead, your voice a breathy whisper, filled with the urgency of your desire. He responds by increasing the intensity, swirling and curling with practiced fervor, and you find yourself teetering at that tantalizing edge, ready to plunge into the depths of ecstasy.

“Let go for me…”

He encourages softly, and you can't help but succumb to his coaxing. It's more than just physical; it's a connection that reaches into the very core of your being. The rush builds higher, overwhelming and intoxicating, until finally, you feel yourself shatter into a million blissful pieces, crashing over the edge as pleasure floods your senses, leaving you breathless and entirely consumed in the aftermath of release. The air is filled with the sinful and pornographic squelching sounds of Lee eagerly devouring your quivering cunt and eagerly lapping up the juices of your orgasm.

“That's it. Just like that. Cum all over my fingers, drench me in your cum. Show me how much you need me, how much you want me to fuck you.”

He rasped, his voice strained with passion, lust and adoration for you. He could feel his own cock throbbing with the need to be buried deep inside your quivering cunt. His heart raced as he felt your walls clench down hard on his fingers, your body trembling violently as your climax crashed over you. He could feel your essence gushing out around his hand, coating his fingers and dripping down onto the sheets beneath you. The sound of your scream, raw and primal, filled the room, and he knew he had never heard anything so beautiful in his life. He continued to lap at your spasming sex, his fingers pumping shallowly as he worked you through your high, determined to wring every last drop of your release from your quivering body.

You nearly scream out his name, clawing at his scalp as your squirting orgasm coated his hand and mouth. Your legs trembled and quaked at the body wracking orgasm. Each languid and shallow pump of his fingers brought more juices from your quivering pussy. And as he crawled up your body, you opened your legs further for him.

As your tremors began to subside, Lee crawled up your body, his hard, muscular frame covering you completely. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as he ground his aching erection against your sensitive, dripping core. He reached down between your bodies, gripping himself and notching the swollen head of his cock at your entrance. He could feel your heat radiating against him, your slick arousal coating his shaft, making the glide smooth and easy.

“Tell me you're ready for my cock, baby—Tell me you need me inside you, stretching this tight little pussy, filling you up until you can't take anymore. Beg for my cock like the desperate, needy little thing you are. Tell me how bad you want it.”

He groaned into your ear, his hips rocking slightly, the tip of his cock dipping teasingly into your opening before pulling back out. The sensation of his cock filling your core made you whimper with need. You gasp into the heat of his mouth as he ground his aching erection against your sensitive, aching sex. Your tongue dove into his mouth, savoring the taste of yourself on his mouth and lips. Your head tilted back as he dipped the swollen head of his cock into the entrance of your core.

"I need you. I need to feel you as you fill me. Please…Don't make me fucking beg…”

You practically begged, your words caught in your throat as he sheathed himself completely into your already aching core. The way his thick and lengthy cock stretched your quivering sex was sinful and pleasurable. Eagerly, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, clinging to him and sinking your nails into the backs of his shoulders. Your nails rake down his back, leaving deep red scratches upon his skin.

Lee's heart raced at your desperate, wanton pleas, your body trembling with the aftershocks of your intense orgasm. He could feel the heat radiating off your skin, could smell the intoxicating scent of your arousal permeating the air. It drove him wild, made him want to claim you, to possess you, to make you his in every way possible. With a single, powerful thrust, he buried himself inside you, burying his thick, hard cock deep into your soaked, fluttering heat. He groaned at the exquisite sensation, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head at the way your walls clung to him, drawing him in deeper.

"Fuck, baby, you feel incredible—so fucking wet…so fucking perfect…”

He panted, his hips rocking slightly as he gave you a moment to adjust to his size. As you nod to him to move again, he begins to, rolling his hips in a slow, sensual rhythm as he makes love to you. His hands roamed your body, caressing every curve and contour, as if he were trying to memorize every inch of you. He palmed your breasts, thumbing your nipples until they were stiff peaks, begging for more of his touch. Lee captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours. He could taste himself on your lips, the combined flavor of your essences mingling deliciously on your tongue. It only spurred him on, made him want to fuck you harder, deeper, until you were both drowning in the taste of your lovemaking.

With each slow and sensual roll of his hips, a series of pornographic moans and whimpers escaped from her. The way the length of his cock slowly glided along the inside of her sex felt heavenly as they made love together. She brings a hand up to cup the nape of his neck, her fingers tenderly dancing across his skin. Her eyes meet his, watching the waves of pleasure wash over him. You mewl just as he captured your lips for a searing kiss. Your tongues glide across one another. You could still taste the remnants of your orgasm on his tongue. The sweet and bitter taste made your head swim. Each of your grunts and moans are swallowed by the deep and fervent kiss.

He hooked your leg over his shoulder, changing the angle of his thrusts to hit that special spot inside you with every drive of his hips. He could feel you clenching down on him, your body responding beautifully to his every move. He groans, his voice a low, seductive purr in your ear. He could feel his own release building, his balls tighteningHe could feel his climax fast approaching, the coil of tension in his gut winding tighter and tighter with each thrust. But he was determined to make this about you, about bringing you to the pinnacle of ecstasy over and over again before he allowed himself to let go. As he hooked your leg over his shoulder, you gasped as he then found a new angle that allowed him to thrust even deeper into your sex. The room is filled with the pornographic sounds of skin against skin and the cacophony of moans that escaped from each of you in your passionate love making. You drag your nails down his chest whilst throwing your head back in pure ecstasy.

"Oh fuck...just like that. You're gonna make me cum. I need to cum on your dick, baby. Fuck—I want you to cum in me...fill me with your cum…”

You pleaded as another knot began to twist in your lower abdomen. With each thrust, the head of his cock nudged against your g-spot, edging you closer to another orgasm. You thread your fingers through his hair, desperately gripping a handful and pulling him down into another searing kiss. He groans into the kiss, each thrust growing more powerful than the last as he desperately chases his high.

“That's it, baby…Take my cock, let me fill this tight little pussy. I want to feel you come undone on me…want to feel your cum dripping down my cock as I fuck you through one orgasm after another.”

“I'm so damn close…I want to feel your pussy spasming on my cock, want to hear you scream my name as you come undone. That's it…cum for me baby. Cum on my cock…Show me how much you love it, how much you need it.”

He reached down between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, rapid circles over the sensitive nub. He could feel your walls starting to flutter around him, your breathing growing more ragged and shallow. You cried out as his fingers found your clit. Each tight rapid circle drew you closer. Your legs began to tremble and shake again as another orgasm neared the surface. Thrust by thrust, he brought you closer to the edge of orgasm. His words of praise and encouragement sent you over the edge. You sank her nails into his biceps, clinging to him like a lifeline as he coaxed another orgasm from you. With a final, hard thrust and a press of his fingers on your clit, he sent you flying over the edge. You cry out his name, voice echoing off the walls as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. He could feel your pussy clenching down on him like a vice, your juices gushing out around his pistoning shaft. The sensation was too much for him to bear. With a roar of your name, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he emptied himself deep in your spasming core. Jet after jet of his hot, thick seed filled you, painting your insides white as he shuddered and groaned above you. The room is soon filled with the squelching sounds of Lee fucking your pussy, desperately chasing his own hig. Your mouth fell open at the sensation of his hot seed painting your insides in white. You hold onto him, grounding yourself in the moment as you ride out your orgasms together. Your breathing came in quick, breathy pants as you swallowed down air.

“Fuck…oh fuck…”

He gasped, his body collapsing onto yours as the aftershocks of his release rolled through him. He captured your lips in a deep, tender kiss, pouring all of his love and devotion into the embrace. He knew at that moment that he never wanted to be without you. That all the months of teasing, flirtations, stolen glances, all led up to this moment. A moment he knew he never wanted to end. You cup his cheeks in your hands, pulling him into a deep but tender kiss. He pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling together as you bask in each other's warm and tender embrace. He could see the love and sincerity shining in your eyes, and it made his heart swell with emotion. He knew in that moment that he had found his home, his sanctuary, in you.

He brushed a tender kiss across your forehead, down your cheek, before capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss that spoke volumes of his love for you. He poured every ounce of his affection and devotion into the embrace, wanting to convey just how much you meant to him. Lee rolled onto his side, taking you with him and tucking you close against his chiseled body. A quiet yelp escapes your lips as he rolls to his side, pulling you along with him. You fit perfectly against his body, like a missing puzzle piece. A soft giggle escaped your lips as you nestled against his body and buried your face into his muscular chest. A soft whimpering moan escaped your tender caresses along your aching body. A swell of emotions filled your chest as you basked in his love and affection. His arms wrapped snugly around your waist, holding you possessively against his muscular frame. He nuzzled into your hair, breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo and the lingering aroma of your lovemaking. His hands roamed slowly over your curves, caressing and savoring every dip and swell, as if committing your body to memory.

"Stay with me tonight…I don't want to let you go, not yet. I want to hold you all night long, want to wake up in the morning and see your beautiful face on the pillow next to me.”

You brought a hand up to his cheek, tenderly caressing as he spoke. Laying there in each other's arms, your souls had begun to bond as one. You felt full, complete, and safe there beneath him. A tender smile tugged at your lips at his words. You leaned into the tender kisses he pressed against your forehead and cheek before finally capturing your lips. You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders. He tilted your chin up with his fingers, his eyes searching yours intently. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, a raw honesty that caught you off guard. It was rare to see Lee so unguarded, so open and exposed. But in that moment, you could see the depth of his feelings for you, the way you had wormed your way into his heart and taken up residence there. His thumb strokes your cheekbone tenderly.

"I won't go anywhere...I'd love to stay here with you. To wake up with you beside me. It's like a dream come true…”

You look up to him, tears of happiness threatening to fill your eyes at such raw emotion. Never had you ever thought that you would see such a tender and vulnerable side to him before, until now. You press a tender kiss against his chest over his heart. He felt a wave of emotion wash over him as he listened to your heartfelt words, your promise to stay and be by his side. He could feel the sincerity and truth in your voice, could see it shining in the misty depths of your hazel eyes. In that moment, he knew that he had found something rare and precious, something that he never wanted to let go of.

He tightened his embrace around you, holding you as close as he possibly could. He wanted to merge with you, to become one being, one entity that could never be torn apart. His hands roamed your back, your sides, your curves, as if he were trying to memorize every inch of you, to burn the feel of your skin into his mind forever. Lee captured your lips in a searing kiss, pouring all of his love and gratitude and devotion into the embrace. He wanted to show you, without words, just how much you meant to him, how deeply he had fallen for you. His tongue delved into your mouth, tangling with yours in a sensual dance of passion and promise. As he kissed you, he began to trail his fingers down your side, over the dip of your waist and the flare of your hip. He let his hand rest there for a moment, marveling at the way you fit so perfectly against him, like you were made to be held in his arms.

“You're mine now…”

“Yours…”

[a-breath-of-pipeweed]

“Indulge” is soooo good! Innocent and inexperienced Legolas is one of my absolute favorite hc’s. Could we maybe get a part 2, where rolls are reversed? Legolas wants to return the favor but isn’t really sure how? I mean, female anatomy is a bit confusing lmao

here it is, served on a silver platter

Indulge (Pt 2)

Legolas x f!reader smut

[ Read part 1 here ] [ Lord of the Rings Masterlist ] Also was further inspired by this ask! Summary: Legolas does a little more than return the favour to you Word count: 4.3k

Content warning (MDNI) - explicit sexual content, oral sex (f recieving), p in v sexual intercourse, vaginal fingering, a lot of power play (sub!legolas <-> softdom!legolas), use of magic during sexual acts (magical stimulation), mild dom/sub dynamics, possessive behaviour and language, creampie, marking, bodily fluids, orgasm control and overstimulation, size kink, light bdsm (pinning, marking, restraint), praise kink (slight), loss of control (legolas), semivirgin!legolas, mortal x elf smut, PWP, established relationship

You felt the air leave your lungs as Legolas pushed you down onto the sheets beneath him. His long limbs caged you, giving you no chance to escape.

"Now then... shall I try this mortal art upon you?" he smirked over you as he began to finger the ties of your pants. He flicks his eyes, which were still slightly glassy and dazed from his high before, up to yours to watch for some kind of permission from you.

"Legolas, love," you purred at his eagerness as you reached a hand to his soft face. "There's no need, really."

He cuts you off quickly. "No, meleth nin. Please. You showed me so much. I wish to please you... as you did with me."

With the offering of a soft smile from you, Legolas continued his endeavours to untie your pants. Before long, he had slipped your legs from them and had removed your tunic from over your shoulders. He ran his fingertips down from the tops of your thighs to your ankles as he stripped you, drinking in the sight of you beneath him.

You felt a warmth build up within you with his touch, feeling some kind of elven magic blossom in your chest and work its way outwards, leaving light waves of pleasure blanketing you without him even doing anything.

With a small arch of your back as Legolas brought a hand across your chest, ever so slightly grazing past one of your hardened buds, he smiled at your reaction to him using his magic on you.

“Does that bring you pleasure?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. You nodded, already feeling breathless. "What are you doing to me?" you questioned.

"I don't really know. I thought I'd try it."

"Please... Legolas. Don't stop doing it, whatever it is."

He let out a light chuckle. "Okay, Y/N. I won't."

With the waves of pleasure increasing at his words, you sucked in a sharp breath and felt his hands go behind your back, where you had arched it, and his head dipped down with his lips slowly grazing along the soft flesh of your navel.

It tickled, and you flinched as he kissed and sucked there, mimicking what you had done earlier with him. It felt heavenly. There was something different about this kind of intimacy with elves. It was like nothing you had ever experienced with humans. Your body felt more tender, more shivery, more desperate for his touch, and his hands were soft leaves and vines across you, trapping you in a forest dream that you never wished to awake from.

"Y/N?"

Legolas softly calling your name snapped you from your thoughts. You glanced at him. He had sat up on his knees, and you drank in the sight of him with your eyes.

Long blonde hair is messy and sticking in different directions. His blue eyes flicked between your core, chest and face. His collarbones were littered with little purple marks from your earlier abuse. And his large dick sat against his smooth stomach, already semi-hard again from the sight of you alone, lying across his bed, waiting for him to devour you.

He was pawing slightly at your thighs in a shy manner.

"Um... I'm not really sure how to do this."

It felt refreshing to have someone so eager to please you, even when they didn't know how. It allowed you to show him exactly what you wanted, and that was exciting for both of you.

"That's okay, Legolas." You sat up, and he leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours. "I can help you."

With a peck on your hairline, he pushed you back down.

Legolas forced your thighs apart slowly with his large, gentle hands, allowing the warm air to hit your core and cause you to cover your face instinctively out of bashfulness.

You could hardly even look at him, knowing he was admiring your pussy as he exposed it to himself. After a short while of nothingness, with you almost trembling in anticipation, you felt him push back on the skin of your inner thighs, and your folds spread further apart under his touch.

"Legolas~" you whined as even such a light graze sent electricity up your spine. "You're being cruel."

"Cruel? How, my love? I'm only admiring you."

"No~" you let out as you uncovered your face. He is looking at you curiously, hand still settled on your inner thighs. "Touch me, with your fingers."

Legolas's cheeks grew a slight blush at your words. "I am worried, Loss nín. You are so responsive, and beautiful... but it makes me nervous."

Legolas had never had sex with a human before. All he had ever known was the methodical sex of elves, where nothing like this was ever done or even discussed. Perhaps rarely, by elves that are more in tune with human culture and customs, but it was not common knowledge amongst the immortal folk. Especially in the deep trees of Mirkwood.

"Legolas, my sweet prince," you comforted him. "What are you so worried about? You do not have to be perfect for me, just touch me like you mean it."

The elf blinked, then gave a grin. "That I can do."

Like he was handling the most delicate glass sculpture in all of Middle Earth, Legolas pressed the pads of his index and middle finger against your folds, moving them around to gather the much slickness that had pooled out of you in anticipation of his touch.

You felt your thigh slightly twitch at the feeling of his elven magic travelling through his fingertips into your core, catching you with a ripple of pleasure.

"Do I push inside, meleth nin?" Legolas whispered. He had now lain down to be closer to your cunt, settled comfortably on his stomach between your spread legs.

You nodded in approval, and he slowly watched as your core welcomed his fingers inside, almost clutching onto them to bring him in further.

"You are so warm... and wet. Is that good?"

"Yes~" you huffed out as you looked down at him, feeling yourself clench slightly at the sight of him between your thighs, looking up at you innocently. "It means I'm enjoying myself."

Legolas smiled. "Good."

"Move your fingers, love, in and out of me, like you would if you were using your cock."

Legolas obliged to your wishes, beginning to slowly push his two fingers in and out of you, listening carefully to any change in your breath and moans with his elf senses. He wanted so badly to please you, and any sign that you were enjoying something, he ran with it.

When he had curved his fingers up slightly inside you while trying to massage your walls, his eyes snapped to you when you let out a loud whimper and your hips left the bed, grinding into his hand.

He leant down and left a playful bite against your hip. "Was that out of pleasure? My love?"

As soon as you nodded with half-lidded eyes, Legolas sat up slightly and pushed his fingers into you quickly. He curled his fingers and pushed against the spot again, massaging it as he watched for your reaction.

You swear you saw stars. With the combination of his pleasurable magic, whilst also hitting your g-spot over and over, your body was slightly shaking.

He abused your g-spot for a minute, obsessed with your moans filling the room and not wanting to stop, enjoying himself a lot.

"Are you trembling, baby? Aw, you're so cute."

It took you bringing a shaky hand down to grab his wrist to have him stop his assault on your pussy. Legolas pulled his fingers out of you and kissed your hand that was against his wrist as a small apology.

"Did I do too much?"

You shook your head as you tried to regain your breath. "No, Legolas. That was amazing. But it just gets a bit too much if you rub against one spot for too long."

The prince groaned at your answer and kissed your thigh, feeling slightly bad.

"Sorry, my love. I did not mean to hurt you. I find it hard to control myself when you are so responsive to me. It's like, something awakens."

You smiled at his words and cupped his cheek with your hand. He leant against it and closed his eyes blissfully. "Do not apologise, Mîr nín. You're making me feel so good."

Legolas gave a wet kiss to the palm of your hand. He opened his eyes and stared into your face with his sky blue ones. "May I taste you? Like you did with me?"

You felt your heart skip a beat at his request. "I would like nothing more, my prince."

Excitedly, Legolas turned back to your core and used his hands to spread you open in front of him once again.

"I do not know where to start my love," he admitted with a whisper, feeling a bit shy. You brought your hand down and brushed against your clit with your hand, pointing it out to the unsure elf.

"This is very sensitive, this bit. You can focus on here, or you can lick inside me as well."

Legolas swallowed nervously. "Okay. You tell me if it is not good."

His consideration for your pleasure had you feeling pleasant inside. His affectionate words were enough to send you halfway over the edge, especially with the Sindarin petnames that he nearly whispered each time he said them.

Legolas pressed his tongue against your clit, where your fingers still remained. But with the addition of his wet muscle, your hand instinctively flew to his hair, gripping the blonde locks softly in your fist so as not to pull.

"Oh fuck," you let out. Legolas moved his lips against your clit, flicking his tongue in and out and bringing out a level of stimulus that you hadn't felt in god knows how long. The wet, sloppy noises he made against you were itching your brain just right.

Your head rolled back, your hips lifted off the sheets and against his mouth, and your thighs found themselves on his shoulders to get a better angle of his tongue, much to his delight.

"I'm gonna need you to hold more still, meleth nin," Legolas said as he pulled away from your cunt. A string of saliva connecting his glistening lips to your core made you almost moan at the sight.

"Make me, elf."

The sudden confidence made Legolas's face shift, and he felt a fire start within him. You swore you even saw his pupils dilate. Make you? Oh, how he dreamed of you saying that to him.

His hands flew to your thighs, wrapping around them in a strong grip and forcing your hips down against the sheets. You gasped at the sudden roughness.

You let out a loud groan as he delved back into your cunt with his tongue. Long, thick stripes were licked across your folds, dipping into your wet hole before he sucked harshly at your clit as he reached it. He had to continue forcing you down to take the abuse of his tongue, not letting you wriggle or kick away when the pleasure got too great.

'Fuck! Legolas-... ah! You're going to ruin me!"

You swore you heard a small 'good' murmured against your folds from him as he continued to eat you out like a starved elf.

You had whiplash from this sudden change from him. He was not joking when he said he thinks something awakens within him. You were ripped from your thoughts when he gave you a sharp nip on the inner thigh.

"Tell me you're okay, Loss nin," he demanded as he stared up at you with a tense hunger in his eyes. You nodded, feeling powerless under his gaze, but that didn't stop you.

"Quit biting me," you snapped at him in a moment of bravery. "I didn't teach you that."

Legolas only smirked, his teeth grazing the sting of his bite.

"No, you didn't, but this is instinctual. I only want to mark what's mine."

With that, he continued his meal on you, making your hands in his hair tighten and pull him even closer, if that was even possible.

It wasn't long before he was using teeth on your thigh again, and one of his nips turned into a proper bite. You gasp and flinch at the slight ache.

You sit up, wanting to put this now cocky elf in his place. "I said, quit biting-"

Legolas shoots up from your core and catches your wrists, forcing you back down on your back beneath him as he looms over you. His cock was now fully hardened from him grinding against the bed beneath him while he ate you out. "Then stop tasting so good, Y/N," he growled.

You were surprised by his change in power. His pupils were large, almost feral-like, as he brought both your wrists together so he could pin them above your head in one of his large hands.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asked, concerned for you with this change of pace. You must have had a shocked expression on your face still.

"I'm okay, Legolas." You felt yourself grow giddy at the fact that he was still concerned about you, wanting you to stay comfortable with him. "I love this. You're doing so well."

The praise had him cock a smile, eyes crinkling at the sides.

With his free hand, he traced it down your naked body, leaving a trace of tingling, shiny magic in its wake, leaving you shaking already. His fingers found your core once again, and he pushed two fingers inside, exploring your inner warmth with his fingers.

You pulled against his hands that pinned you, wanting to grab onto something for support, but he just laughed at you teasingly.

"Oh, little petal, look at you. All at my mercy on my bed," he groaned in a low tone as he leaned down next to your ear. His long hair tickled against your neck, and you felt him mouth your earlobe before taking it into his mouth to suck on lightly.

You felt your eyes roll as he curled his fingers upwards inside you. It did not help that elves were, on average, much larger than humans, meaning his fingers were longer and could reach places inside you that not even you were aware of.

"Ah~ Fuck, Legolas. What are you doing to me?"

He chuckled into your neck. "I'm making you feel good, aren't I? Just as you did for me. I'm only returning a favour."

You whimpered at his words as you remember. You glanced down at his pink length, seeing smeared precum glistening on the head and slowly dripping onto your thigh. The sight made you clench around his fingers, filled with the need of his cock inside you.

It was like he read your mind. Legolas pulled his fingers from you, but not before he let go of your wrists to dip down once again and suck your clit into his mouth, making you cry out and jolt at the intense stimulation.

"I cannot get enough of your taste, Loss nin," he moaned against your clit. You vibrations from his words almost had you shaking. "It is heavenly."

Before long, Legolas had returned on top of you. He had sat back on his knees, admiring your naked, sweaty body beneath him as he traced his hands along your skin, toying with you.

"This is fun," he chuckled as you reacted to each and every one of his touches now. "Is it so easy to get you worked up beneath me. You're now chasing my hands with your arches and movements."

You breathed out a defeated huff beneath him as he fiddled gently with one of your nipples. "You act like you weren't begging beneath my mouth earlier, elf prince."

"Oh, you shouldn't remind me. That's dangerous. But even so, you've taught me how to beg, but now I'm going to teach you how to cry my name."

You smiled beneath him at his 'threat'. "Is that a promise?"

Something about your compliance with his dominating persona now set him off, and his dick twitched against your hip where it rested, gathering precum at the tip. He felt his confidence slip slightly, and his demeanour softened at the sight of you beneath him.

So beautiful, so fucked out already. So willing to let him take what he wants. He suddenly felt a strong protectiveness overcome him.

"Fuck, I need to be inside you."

He pressed his forehead against yours and let out a heavy breath. His arms snaked around your torso in a tight cuddle, and he tangled his legs with yours. You groaned at the press of his thigh between your legs, allowing you to grind down on it to please you. It simultaneously pushed your hips against his aching cock that was wedged between your bodies.

"Please, meleth nin. If you'll have me, I want to be inside you." His voice shook as he begged into your neck. The tenderness of his words could've almost made you cry.

"Legolas. I'll have you now, and forever, if you'd let me."

He pulled back from your neck and watched your face for any doubt, any hesitation, but saw none. He saw nothing but love, admiration and a strong desire that he had never seen in anyone before. And he felt all the same back, and more.

"I'll gladly have you be mine, my ethereal mortal."

He pushes his pink lips into your breathless ones. His lips are still wet from your arousal, and he pushes his tongue into your mouth to deepen the kiss.

While you make out, the prince runs his hands down your body and steadies himself above you once again. When he reached your hips, he gave them a teasing squeeze on either side, reminding you of what's to come.

With his hands, he spread your legs once again and placed himself completely between.

You force your face to the side to escape his lips. "Legolas, wait."

He froze above you, examining your face with curiosity.

"Can you... Just go a bit slow at first. I'm not used to being bedded by an elf," you laughed to yourself.

Legolas smiled softly above. "Oh my love, you're so precious. Of course, I'll go slow," he answered as he nuzzled your cheek with his nose.

With that, Legolas reached down between you and lined himself up at your entrance. With a glance at you, which was earned with a little nervous nod, he slowly began to push his cock into your cunt.

The stretch was heavenly. You had known he was bigger than most humans you had been with, but you didn't think of it as being so much more pleasurable. Maybe it was something to do with the elven magic.

Legolas paused and checked your face for discomfort. His breath had quickened.

He continued when you seemed fine, and kept going until he had bottomed out in you. He let out a loud huff at the tight warmth of you, feeling you pulse around him, pressing his forehead against yours. It almost sent him feral, and he had to hold himself back from letting his instincts take over. He peppered your face with kisses.

Once you had adjusted, you wrapped your arms around Legolas's neck to make sure he'd stay close to you. "You can move, Mîr nín."

You using the Sindarin pet name for him had him breathing in a sharp breath of control.

He crept his hands down and gripped your hips to stabilise himself as he began to pull out and push back in slowly.

"Oh fuck~," he groaned out with a slight whimper. "You feel so good around me. How will I ever hold back?"

You grinned at his expression of pleasure. "Legolas, you don't have to," you began. The elf looked at you through half-lidded eyes, a growing darkness pooling in his blue irises. "I'm okay."

He searched your eyes. "What if I hurt you?" he lets out with a concerned breath. He continued to thrust slowly and deeply into you, his hands almost twitching at your hips from the agonising pace.

"I will tell you, meleth nin. Please- ah~ take me as yours."

That's all he needed from you. Legolas tucked his face into your neck and pressed his body even further against yours. You flinched slightly at the sudden tightening on your waist with his grip, but nothing could prepare you for the pleasure you were going to feel.

Legolas's pace suddenly quickened immensely, and his thrusts became rough. Your mouth fell open, and a loud moan escaped before you could control it. You prayed that no passing guard heard it.

Not liking the position, Legolas leant back away from you and lifted one of your legs, folding it up onto your chest as he deepened his thrusts. His brows were furrowed, lips parted as growls and moans escaped with every push into you. You couldn't help but admire the tense muscles in his arms, leaving strong veins and sweat gathering along them.

This new position allowed him to drill deep inside you, and you felt your eyes roll back slowly as the head of his cock kissed your cervix. There was so much pleasure in every part of your body that you didn't think you'd be able to take it.

You raised your arm and reached for him, finding his hip and pushing on it to get his attention.

"Lego-... las" you croaked out. The elf stopped his thrusts, concerned.

"Are you okay Y/N?" He checked on you, dropping down to your face and kissing your forehead.

"Can you... Please... calm down with the magic? I want to be able to feel my body tomorrow," you asked, still catching your breath.

Legolas smirked at your request. "Sorry, my love. I was getting carried away."

You nodded as he kissed your cheek. "That's okay."

It wasn't long before he had continued his thrusts, only this time he had both your thighs being held up to deepen his thrusts still. He was buried to the hilt on his cock inside you as he thrusted in each time, and you swore you could feel him inside your womb.

Legolas tucked himself once again back against your shoulder. You heard his noises increase as his thrusts became more erratic, and your hands left the sheets to scratch along his back for support. Legolas shivered at the affection.

A sharp bite to your neck had you let out a yelp, only this time, he didn't let go. His teeth sank deeper and deeper as he fucked into you, and you had thought maybe he had entered some kind of state.

"Legola- ah! Legolas- my lo- ve?" you tried to choke out.

"Don't move." He let out a low growl next to your ear as his teeth let go. You could already feel that it had left a heavy mark there that would last for days.

His grip tightened on your hips, not allowing for any movement from you to get away from his powerful thrusts.

"Nín," he moaned out against you. "Nín, nín, nín." The repetitive elvish had you clawing at his back as you felt your high approaching deep in your abdomen.

Legolas once again moves away from your neck and catches your wrists in his hands again. He pins them down.

"I want to look at you while I take you." His eyes were dark pits, and his face was flushed with redness. He looked hot, fucked, and oh so desperate for you.

His words almost sent you over the edge by themselves. His thrusts continued into you, and you let your mouth fall open and your head lull back onto the mattress.

"Ah fuck~ Legolas~" you whimpered out. You made eye contact with him, tears of pleasure appearing in your eyes. "Please, I am all yours."

"Come for me, meleth nin. I am right here." Legolas pressed a kiss to your lips as you did just that, muffling your moans with his mouth and licking across your lips as he helped you ride out your high. He parted from you, breathless.

Your words from before had an effect on him, and he was sent over the edge with the sight of you finishing on him. A loud grunt escaped his throat, and he bottomed out inside you and pushed his seed deep into your cunt, thrusting a few final times afterwards to milk himself empty.

You both lay in the moonlit room, sharing breaths as you kept your foreheads together. Legolas kept himself inside you for a while, enjoying the closeness, and not wanting to forget the moment so quickly.

"Was that okay? Y/N?"

You smiled weakly at him. "You were so perfect to me, Legolas. Everything I could ever want."

He grinned at your response and gave a short peck to your nose before he slipped out of you, ignoring the mess that it made. That's a concern for later anyway.

He snuggled in next to you and tucked your head underneath his chin, kissing the crown of your hair.

"You will not be leaving me, meleth nin. Not after this. I'll hide you from my father in the walls of his own castle if I have to."

You chuckled against his warm chest. "Legolas, that's a conversation for tomorrow. For now, I need some sleep," you let out a big yawn and wrapped your arms around his torso.

"Oh, right," he smiled as you nuzzled against his chest. "I forgot you mortals need to do that."

Taglist: @pumpkin-soup333 @cinnamon-girl-writes @bloxholden35 @woodsofsunlight @mybrainsamess @polinforya AN: I got so fucking carried away with this holy fuck, hope ya'll liked hehehee Requests for headcanons / reactions always open~

[a-breath-of-pipeweed]

That Aragorn smut piece was fucking great!!

Don't suppose you could write one for Legolas? My head canon is that elves only have sex of the regular kind (p in v) and that's it. They don't even know what oral is. So when the Prince of Mirkwood meets a mortal woman who he becomes infatuated with, she shows him what oral sex can be like. He's nervous at first but she soothes him and convinces him to trust her. Eventually his instincts kick in and he's thrusting into her mouth and she loves every inch of it, placing his hands in her hair encouraging him to grip her.

Yes of course my queen~

Indulge

Legolas x f!reader smut

[ Lord of the Rings Masterlist ] [ Read Part 2 of this fic here! ] Summary: Legolas has never heard of oral sex before. You, a human, decide to teach (and show) him. Word Count: 2.5k

Content warning (MDNI): Explicit sexual content - oral sex (M receiving), inexperienced!legolas, hair pulling, gagging/deepthroating (light), mild roughness, power shift (sub!legolas -> milddom!legolas), mortal x elf

It was a late night in Mirkwood. The carved cave palace was settling, with elf residents now retreating to their quarters and rooms, leaving only the night guards to creep the halls. Only a certain elven prince and his secret are sneaking about.

"Come," he spoke as he pulled you with him by your intertwined hands down the quiet halls of his father's huge palace.

"Legolas, are you sure?" you said with hesitation.

He doesn't answer, but only continues pulling you with him quickly with a devilish smile. The impish prince was trying to sneak you, a mortal woman, into his room without causing a fuss with the guards.

You felt so out of place in this ethereal world. You had met Legolas many times before, always having your meetings lead to flirtatious banter and sometimes some stolen kisses if you were bold enough. But with you passing through Mirkwood for a short time whilst handling some supply deliveries from Rivendell, it allowed you to see your little elven crush once again. Only this time, something was telling you it was going to go a little differently.

You both reached some large, dark oak wooden doors at the end of a long hallway, and Legolas quickly pulled you both inside eagerly. He let go of your hand to close the door and slid across a latch concealed in the fine carvings of the wood, one that only he would know of.

You took in his large room. White stone walls were draped with tapestries of greens, browns and blues. The floor held an elegant fur rug, and small candles burned on the bedside tables. There was a subtle scent of crushed herbs and old wood. It was heavenly.

"Woah. Just the habitat I'd expect for a prince," you teased as you looked over your shoulder at him.

Legolas bowed his head. "Would it please you, just for tonight?" he asked. You nodded while offering a smile of gratefulness.

The elf approached you slowly, almost cautiously, and you lifted your hands to press against his chest as he came close.

His soft hands found your face and held it so delicately as you looked up at him, almost towering over you with his elven height. "You know, Y/N, my love, I do not expect you to do anything with me," he stated as he pressed his forehead lightly against yours.

You sighed at the soothing feeling of his thumbs against your cheek and his forefingers caressing the shell of your ears. You failed to ignore the loud butterflies that had grown in your stomach from his closeness, though.

"I have never been with an elf," you admitted to him.

"And I have never known such closeness with a human," he matched. You're gaze softened as one of his hands dropped to your neck and brushed your hair away from your skin.

"Do you want to be?"

A short, tense silence was present before he whispered. "If the mortal is you, mîr nín, then yes... without question."

And with that, his soft, warm lips crashed onto yours with a hunger you couldn't believe. You kissed back just as eagerly, tongue slipping out and running over his bottom lip, which he accepted into his mouth willingly and desperately.

Your hands run wildly over each other. Legolas had now moved to the top buttons of your long tunic to quickly undo them. He had half the mind to just rip them off, but his conscience told him to be patient.

He slowly encouraged you backwards towards his widespread bed, all the while his lips never left yours and his hands continued to fiddle at the lacings of your clothes. As the back of your knees felt the wooden frame of the bed, you let yourself fall.

It didn't take even a second for the elven prince to be on top of you, now nearly clawing to take off your tunic, which was now open and exposed to him. You felt yourself grow flushed under his strong gaze as his hands hovered over your chest, your stomach, the lacings of your bottoms, almost like he didn't know where to start.

"Legolas?" You spoke up under him softly. He snapped his gaze to your face.

"Are you okay, meleth nín?" he asked as he tucked his face into your neck and breathed in your scent.

You sucked in a sudden breath as you felt his wet tongue against the skin below your ear, feeling ticklish. "Yes, more than ever," you said breathlessly. "But please, get rid of this." You lightly pulled on his shirt.

Legolas let out a huffed laugh and crawled off of you. You sat up and watched as he removed his shirt and boots before climbing back into bed with his back against the headboard. "Come to me~" he purred while reaching out to you.

You basically crawled to him and got yourself comfortable as you straddled his lap. You felt pressure from him against your core through your thin undergarments, and felt nervousness creep over. He felt big.

The heat between you two felt infatuating. Legolas held onto you like you were the most prized thing in Middle-earth; such gentle touches, caresses and kisses.

But you grew bored of his gentleness after a few minutes, wanting something more.

You broke off your long, wet kiss from him and gave him a tender kiss on his forehead, making him smile softly with glossy eyes from how blissed out he seemed already.

You lightly gripped his jaw to angle his head to the side so you could go at the soft skin of his neck and below his beautiful, pointed ears. He faintly hummed at your tongue and light teeth against him, and you felt his hips buck slightly up into you. You encouraged his movements by grinding down onto him.

"Can you lie down, lovely?" you whispered in his ear before giving it a teasing flick of your tongue. He shivered and nodded.

When he had gotten more comfortable below you, his hips were now more erratic and desperate for your touch. You had decided you will help him out.

You slowly kissed down his sculpted body, making sure to love on every inch that you saw and listened carefully to the sounds he was making to know what was working.

Just as you reached the hem of his suede trousers, you heard his breath hitch. You slowly licked along the soft skin peaking out, trying to tease him, but you got no complaints from the prince.

You moved down and nudged your face against the large bulge in his pants. But as soon as you made contact, you felt his hand reach down and grip your arm tightly.

"Y/N?" he said in a weak tone. "What are you doing?"

You froze in your actions and glanced up at him. He was sitting up slightly on his elbows, watching you with a confused look on his face. His cheeks held a slight red tinge, and small pants escaped from between his lips. He looked ethereal.

"What do you mean?" you asked, resting your chin on his thigh.

"It's just..." he started, trying to think of what to say. "I've never had someone go down there like that."

You frowned. "Like what?"

"What you just did..." he said, unsure.

It took you a second to understand what he was meaning. But then it clicked.

"Oh. Oh~" you nearly purred. "Has this elven prince never had someone use their mouth on him?" you teased with a sickly sweet tone as you crawled back up his body and placed a gentle hand on his cheek.

He looked up at you, suddenly flushed by your teasing remarks. "Their... mouth? Is that a mortal custom?"

You giggled at his answer. "Oh, Legolas, you elves have really been missing out if none of you know what oral sex is. What do you do in the bedroom? No foreplay?"

"What's foreplay?" he asked.

You rolled your eyes at his words. It astounded you how this absolute beauty of an elf man below you has never had his dick sucked. Where's the fun in elven sex if it's just plain old penetrative? But it made sense. With their perfection and reservedness, maybe it was a topic never discussed or delved into.

But, by god, how badly you now wanted to suck him off and to hear his moans bounce off the walls. You wished so badly to show him just how pleasurable sex can be, as long as he was willing to let you.

"Can I show you, my sweet?" you asked in a sweet tone.

Legolas looked concerned. "With your mouth?"

"Yes, honey. If you let me, I can make you feel really good." You slowly kiss down his chest. You feel his breath quicken.

"Are you certain?" he asked with a voice full of worry. You sit yourself back up and look at him lovingly. With a gentle hand, you reach out and run a hand through his long, blonde hair, fingering a loose, messy braid that sat behind his pointed ear.

"I promise you, love, that it will feel amazing for you. But I also promise that at any point you wish to stop, you just tell me and we don't have to continue."

And with your reassuring words, he nodded and lay his head back on the pillow while letting out a tense breath, anticipating what was to come.

You continued your endeavours from before, reaching the hem of his loose pants again. You dipped your head and mouthed against his bulge through the fabric, causing him to jump slightly.

You didn't want to tease him for too long. You quickly untied the strings on the front of his pants, and he lifted his hips so you could pull them down, taking the undergarments with them.

His length hit against his stomach with the red tip glistening lightly with precum. Legolas sat back up on his elbows as you got yourself comfortable between his legs.

"Just relax, prince, I'll take care of you~."

He watched as you wrapped your hands delicately around him, smearing the precum from the head further down for lube before moving your hand up and down his length a few times. He hummed in pleasure at your movements.

But when you leaned down and licked a long stripe from the base of him to the tip, his eyes were tightly shut, and he gasped from the feeling. His hands grabbed a fistful of the blankets beneath him.

Desperate to hear more from him, you gripped his cock in your hand and took him into your mouth.

Legolas let out an audible moan as you closed your warm, soft mouth around him and began to move. Very slowly at first, as you were worried you'd overwhelm him.

"Ahh~" he let out strongly. "Y/N..." he groaned your name while pushing his face into the pillow next to him.

You continued your agonisingly slow pace on him, which he began growing accustomed to. You felt his hips start to shift beneath you as you moved your head up and down, saliva coating his length and collecting on his smooth stomach.

You took yourself off his cock with a quiet pop and he whined from the loss of pleasure.

"You okay, Legolas?" you checked on him. He nods as he glances down at you, breathing heavily.

"Stars above... You are amazing," he puffed out, making you chuckle.

You go back to work on him, but this time, you sped up your movements. This made his moans increase threefold.

When opening your eyes to look up at him a few moments later, you caught a glimpse of one of his hands nearly tearing the sheets beneath him due to gripping them so hard. The other one was up by his head, arm covering his eyes and fist clenched tightly.

You gently reached out and grabbed his wrist from the hand on the bed. He took his arm off and looked down at you while panting.

The sight of you alone with his dick in your mouth as you gazed up at him so lovingly could have been enough for him to be sent over the edge, but Legolas was enjoying this way too much for him to want it to be over soon.

He let you guide his hand to your hair to show him what you wanted. He hovered it over you for a minute before gently running both hands through your locks. You sucked him a little harder to encourage him, and from that action alone his hands had gripped your hair in his fists and his head was thrown back.

"Ah... Elbereth~" he hissed. "What are you doing to me, Loss nín?"

The use of the Sindarin pet name turned you on immensely, and you started stroking the rest of his length that you could not fit into your mouth.

Then it was like something snapped in Legolas. He pulled you off of his length by your hair, making you wince slightly.

The look in his eyes was wild. Like something you had never seen before. His irises were darkened, and he stared at you like you were something he wanted to devour.

"Tell me if this becomes too much, meleth nín," he said with a strong tone of desire in his voice. You nod.

Suddenly, he forces himself back into your mouth, taking you completely by surprise. You didn't have much time to adjust to the sudden change before he was thrusting roughly into your warmth and hitting the back of your throat, making you gag on his cock.

His light, cute moans from before had now turned into growls. His hands in your hair completely controlled your movements, and he could feel within himself the pressure building in his abdomen.

You tried your best to withstand his power, but it was proven difficult. You haven't exactly ever had to deal with the larger cock of an elf, let alone a elven prince, but my god did you love it. You enjoyed this change in character that is so different from the usual, elegant, reserved personality he was, and what you loved most is that you brought this creature out.

Legolas's grip on your hair tightened as he came hard into your throat, forcing you to take his full length in and push your nose against the soft skin of his stomach. You were forced to swallow every drop he gave you.

He eventually dropped his hands from the back of your head, and you pulled yourself off his length, coughing slightly. Legolas sat up, still panting and glossy-eyed, as he gently grabbed your face.

"Mîr nín... You tremble. Are you certain you're well?" he checked on you with a soft voice. He nuzzled against the skin of your cheek affectionately.

"Yeah," you breathed out while offering him a cute smile. "I'm more than okay, my love."

He giggled at you. "Thank you, that was amazing."

With his strength, he wrapped his arms around your torso and flipped you both so you'd lie beneath him, trapping you like you were in a cage made of his body.

"Now then... shall I try this mortal art upon you?" he mischievously suggested while fumbling with the tie of your pants.

AN: Okay, LISTEN I am working on this Aragorn x reader fic at the moment but I'm making it long asf cause I love mutual pining and yearning. Hope this legolas smut has quenched ya'll for the time being. Read PART 2 HERE

[kiatheinsomniac]

──── 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ˊˎ - ⊹₊ masterlist / rules ꒰ pairing: Legolas x elf! Reader ꒱ ꒰ word count: 3.4k ꒱ ꒰ c.w: MDNI, NSFW content, plot-heavy, semi-public sex, porn with feelings ꒱ ᯓ✩ 𝒑.𝒔: this was a commission from @teddynoir who was lovely to work with and I look forward to working with you again in the future. check out my autumn sale if you'd like to commission me too!

Spiders. 

They weren’t an unusual sight in Mirkwood these days but these ones were different, organised, strategic even. You’ve been cut off from your hunting party, the sounds of blades meeting chitin, of hisses, grunts, arrows flying. You don’t allow the cacophony to disorient you as you slice your sword through thick web and immediately throw your body aside to avoid being pounced on by one of the enormous arachnids. 

Your dodge unfortunately comes with having to duck out of the way of more sticky webbing, twirling like a dancer in the deadliest of waltzes. The creature turns furiously and barrels towards you, propelling itself forwards with its many legs until it’s crashing into your form, determined to bring you down in its conquest across the tainted forest. 

Unfortunately for you, it sends you tumbling off a ledge as you wedge your sword between its mandibles that snap at you viciously. You force your legs against the underside of its abdomen to flip it over in a swift move as you both fall through the air. 

You’re momentarily disoriented by the sheer cold of the river that you plummet into, the rapids taking you downstream, your sword lost from the grip of your hand. You swim with the current as it sweeps you along, looking for an exit that comes in the form of a fallen birch overhead. Reaching up out of the water, you grab onto the tree and pull yourself onto it in a fluid motion, moving like a gymnast. You sweep your long, wet hair from your face and watch the river, seeing your eight-legged foe struggling against the water… 

It’ll likely drown, you think. But things ought not be left to chance when you’re a guard. You take a knife from your belt and aim it for the creature as it thrashes in the water, its movements stopping when your small blade embeds into its head. 

You allow yourself a moment of relaxation, letting out a sigh as you lean forwards on your hands. You’ve lost the path – a dangerous fate even for those like yourself who frequently venture out into the forest, the curse not even allowing elvenkind to be exempt from its clutches. There will still be dangers lurking in the shadows, twists and turns that’ll send you in circles if you’re not mindful of your step – and you’re sopping wet to boot. 

As you make your way back onto solid ground and begin scouting the area to build a fire with which you can dry off with, your mind turns to your hunting party. You’re sure you’re not the only one who was separated from the others and you fear for their safety. You’re all capable warriors, yes, but you’re stronger together than you are alone. You particularly find yourself worrying for your Prince’s wellbeing. Subconsciously, your teeth sink into your lower lip as your mind becomes filled with thoughts of the blond. The Elvenking would kill you and the rest of your party if anything has come to harm his son under your comradeship… 

You at least try to focus on that sentiment, attempting to quell the nagging truth behind your fear: you care for him, deeply, more than someone of your status should. Your family has a certain level of prestige, coming from a long line of royal guards and knights – so you’re not a nobody but you’re also not of high enough standing to be matched with an ellon like Legolas. As you sit by the fire and allow it to dry your clothes and hair, you find yourself smiling fondly at memories of playing with the young Princeling in the royal gardens as a child – though these were in days before the forest grew sick and when the Elvenking still ruled with his queen at his side… simpler days. 

You itch to get up and go searching for him but know that it’ll do you no good to be wandering the woods in soaked clothes. You stay vigilant as you wait to dry off and are quick to stamp out your campfire when you’re done. You’re down a sword and a throwing knife but you still have three knives left. You’ll have to use them sparingly and potentially be prepared for close-combat if you happen across any more spiders. 

You begin to climb up a tree, ascending above the canopy so that you can reorient yourself and begin plotting your path home. The air in the woods cannot be trusted but, up here, it’s free of any dark enchantments. You mentally chart your course and begin heading home. 

You’re glad to not run into any more enemies as twilight settles across the forest. If you were mortal, it would be nearly impossible to see a thing given how even sunlight struggles to penetrate the thick canopy of towering trees. You’re welcomed back by fellow guards whose relief shows in their eyes despite their professional demeanour when you pass through the doors to the city. You immediately make your way to the soldiers’ quarters to find out what happened to the rest of your party, your mind occupied with worries of your childhood sweetheart and best friend. 

You find the changing room empty, everyone having already retired for the day, most likely. Sick with worry but knowing it’d be foolish to go out after dark, you sit down and put your head in your hands, worry churning up something akin to nausea in your stomach. But surely if the Crown Prince were missing, the whole city would be out there searching for him? He must be okay, you try to reassure yourself. He must be okay.

“Y/n?” You hear a familiar voice call your name and it makes your head snap up, eyes wide and hopeful. As always, you see Legolas’ golden hair before you see him, his lips slightly parted in a relieved disbelief. 

When the two of you were young, you played and wrestled and climbed trees without a care in the world. But once you began to grow up, you were taught all about propriety, how it was no longer appropriate for you, as the Captain of the royal guard’s daughter, to handle the young Princeling like that. 

“Legolas!”

All such propriety is forgotten about when you bound across the room and wrap your arms around him, practically barrelling into his chest. Without a breath of hesitation, he returns the gesture, arms winding tightly around your waist, his face burying into your neck. Neither of you say a word but with the way your chest is pressed to his, you can feel his hammering heart and you’re more than sure that he can feel yours too. He takes in a long inhale of your scent – currently a little murky and smoky from your unfortunate incident earlier – and you find that you’ve been held in one another’s embrace for so long now that you’ve ended up swaying from side to side slightly. 

Finally, painfully, like something unnatural, he withdraws from the embrace. It makes the back of your throat burn for a moment until you realise that he’s only pulled away just far enough to look into your eyes with his own striking blue ones. 

“I…” He begins, voice wavering under the burden of his emotion, “I thought you’d died.” His fingers tremble ever so slightly as he reaches up to cup your cheek and tuck a lock of long hair behind your pointed ear, “We tracked you to a fall in the river, found your sword on the bank, but no sign of you…” 

You shake your head reassuringly, “I fell in but got out. I got lost, had to dry off, then came back.” He lets out a sigh, the reality of your safety finally cementing into his mind that’s been full of nothing but fear for you since you were separated from him and the others. He nods his head as he finally allows his relief to wash away from him, hands reaching up to cup your cheeks, feeling the warmth of your skin. 

“I had so many things going through my head when I was out there looking for you…” His voice is heavy with an array of emotions, lowering to a murmur as his gaze drops to your lips. You barely have a second to think about what that glance could mean as, in the next moment, his lips are meeting yours. The kiss is soft and tender and yet the way his hands cup your cheeks is fervent, a silent plea for you to not wish to pull away. 

You set your own hands upon his collar as he reluctantly parts from you, wanting to know how you feel about his impulsiveness. You see him swallow thickly, hands dropping to your waist instead, gentle but firm, praying that you’ll stay this close to him. You loop your arms around his neck and dive in for yet another kiss, allowing all your years of pent-up passion to pour forth. He pulls you even closer to him as your tongue glides against his, your feet messily crossing the room as you blindly kiss. He tastes like dew and mint and you find yourself quickly addicted to the flavour. 

You hardly register your back hitting the carved beam of tree root against your back, only how Legolas presses himself to your front, trapping you against the toned plains of his body. His lips leave your mouth to instead glide across your jaw until he can trail to that sensitive spot below your pointed ear. You only realise that you’ve gasped when the sound registers in your mind as he bites and sucks at your flesh, soothing it with a heated lick before dipping lower, tugging at your shirt to expose your collarbone to his possessive kisses. Your hands thread through his golden, gossamer-like hair, tugging at it as you pull it away from his neck, leaning in to reciprocate his fiery affection. He lets out a soft moan against your skin in response and the noise sends a stream of heat straight down to your core, pooling like magma.

It would be a lie to say that you hadn’t pictured this scenario with the Crown Prince in a variety of ways throughout the years; usually with your hands between your thighs, gliding through your slick cunt. Perhaps you’ve imagined a situation just like this before: something quick and passionate in a place where you could be walked in on – but if you have then your mind is too fuzzy with rapidly mounting lust to recall. 

His hands bunch up the hem of your tunic, revealing a teasing piece of your midriff, before he seems to have a moment of clarity. Legolas wets his lips before his eyes snap back up to meet yours, full of a heated yearning that’s been held back for far too long for even an elf to bear. 

“Can I take this off?” He asks, reverently, like asking if he can handle a precious relic. You don’t need even a moment to decide how to reply, automatically nodding your head. He wastes no time in pulling it over your head and removing your undergarments with quick, efficient fingers – fingers that you’ve fantasised will be just as efficient elsewhere… 

He seems far more vocal than you ever imagined though, letting out a quiet whine at just the sight of your bare breasts. “Beautiful…” He breathes out reverently. His praise brings heat to your cheeks and you bite your lip as he fixes his gaze to your bust. His hands on your hips slide up, feeling the soft curve of your waist and stopping over your ribs for a moment before he greedily pushes them  further up to cup your soft tits. 

You find yourself arching into him on instinct and he repays your eagerness by flicking his thumbs over your nipples, watching them pebble under his ministrations. “You’re so soft, sweetheart, so soft.” His words make you hope that you’re not the only one that’s been fantasising about the other. He dips down just enough to kiss your soft flesh, cupping and squeezing still all the while. “I need to-” You gasp when he wraps his lips around your stiffened peak, sucking down. You’ve never seen Legolas so debauched before, so unprincely; it suits him. Your hands tangle in his hair and tug again, having already learned that he likes it. He releases your breast with a pop and presses himself to your front again, hooking your leg up onto his hip so he can press against you enough for you to feel how hard he is for you. 

“Can we-” He begins, feeling dizzy with lust, “-can I give you more? Please?” 

You nod eagerly, “Yes, please, yes.” He nods and begins to remove his own clothes, prompting you to do the same. You muffle a soft moan at the sight of him naked: he’s utterly beautiful, perhaps average sized and with a tip that’s flushed pink and leaking with need for you. He’s also drinking you in now that you’re utterly bare before him. 

“Here…” He sets his hand on the small of your back to lead you to a nearby counter, wanting you to be more comfortable for what’s to come. You face your back to it and allow him the act of lifting you to perch on the edge of it. Welcomingly, you part your thighs for him and he lets out a small groan at the sight of your already-glistening slit. With those steady archer hands of his, he reaches forwards and gathers up a generous amount of wetness from your opening, pushing it upwards to smear over your sensitive clit. Leaning back on one hand, you set one foot up on the counter to spread yourself wider for his explorative touches. 

He’s quick and eager and yet thorough, touching you all over and mapping out the places that make you tilt your hips towards him more or that cause your hardened pearl to twitch under the pad of his thumb. He runs his tongue along his teeth as he considers the many options that your parted thighs present to him: the opportunity to bring his every fantasy of you to life – and there are many. But your time here could be cut short at any moment and the longer the two of you take, the greater the risk of being walked in on becomes. 

As he slides his two fingers into your needy pussy, he swallows up your moan of delight with slow, sensual kisses. 

“There are so many things I want to do to you…” He murmurs as he pulls away ever so slightly, lips still brushing against yours as he speaks, breath fanning across your skin, fingers curling upwards to stroke against that extra-soft spot on your walls, “But I can’t believe it took thinking you were dead today for me to realise I should have claimed you as my own long ago…” His fingers withdraw with a sticky web of your arousal clinging to them. “So will you allow this fool the privilege of claiming you for himself?” 

“Yes…” Your breath spills from your lungs, “Please, I’ve wanted this, wanted you, for far longer than I care to admit.” You confess with a lovesick smile, already on cloud nine even without what’s about to come next.

He pulls you even closer to the edge of the counter and you wrap your free leg around his hips, the other arm looping around his neck while you lean back on your free hand. He wraps his fist around his cock and hisses when he drags the tip through your heated slit, mixing your wetness with his pre, tapping himself against your clit to hear the way it makes you whine softly. 

“Don’t tease…” You plead softly, having been waiting for this for far too long to possibly be made to wait another second. He smiles at how desperate you are for him, blush on his pretty cheeks, and lines himself up to your entrance. 

And when he pushes in, you practically melt into him, teeth sinking into his shoulder to muffle the utterly lewd noise you’d otherwise have let out. A shiver courses through his body and he pulls your legs around him more, coaxing you to wrap them around his waist. Your heels dig into his lower back as you desperately draw him in deeper to your hole that’s been aching for him for ever so long. 

“You’re so warm…” He breathes out reverently against your neck, like you’re some deity to be worshipped, held in the highest regard, even through the veil of his lust for you – but this runs so much deeper than lust and you can feel it in the way his cock drags against your walls, how he slows down ever so slightly when he bottoms out to feel how his tip pushes against your cervix. He’s soon panting as he ruts into you, attentive to all the spots that make you squeeze on him tighter or muffle yet another sweet little sound against his thrumming pulse. “The things you’re doing to me, meleth nîn.” He gasps as his hands cup your ass greedily, feeling the plushness of your flesh in his hands. 

“Feels so good-” You let out softly between panted little breaths, your skin hot to the touch with all the feelings he’s stirring up in you as he holds you close and stuffs you full of his cock. Once more, you bite at the junction of his neck and shoulder, teeth marking his skin as your own. 

Despite the risky setting, the possibility of any other guard entering the room and walking in on the two of you in such a compromising position, Legolas grows ravenous for the honeyed little sounds you make that resonate with the lewd squelching of your cunt being bullied by his cock over and over. You gasp when he winds your long hair around his fist, pulling it so that you have to tip your head back to the ceiling, exposing your throat for an onslaught of his open-mouthed kisses. You clutch at his shoulders and his free hand snakes down between your heated bodies until he can rub at you just above where he’s splitting you over and over on his length, teasing your sensitive clit to send you barrelling towards your orgasm. 

“Come for me.” His voice seems to be both a command and plea in one, “Come for me now so I can take you elsewhere and make you do it over and over and-” While he plans out the rest of the night for the two of you, your walls bear down on his cock in a delicious squeeze that has him moaning right into your pointed ear. He grits his teeth against the sweet fluttering of your walls trying to milk him, holding out for as long as he can before pulling out to pump his cock until he’s painting your belly with ropes of white, hot cum. 

The two of you are left panting for breath, pupils blown wide, and he leans in to kiss you deeply nonetheless. 

“Let’s not linger here like this…” He says, almost unable to pry his sights away from how he’s marked up your pretty skin with his hot seed. “I’ll clean you up – hold onto my shoulders.” He instructs softly as he scoops you up with an arm around your waist and the other under the backs of your knees. 

He carries you into the adjoining bathhouse, sinking into the steamy water and settling you down on his lap with a relaxed sigh. With the fear of you being gone and the adrenaline of your copulation simmering down. The hot water eases your weary muscles and the fresh ache between your thighs. 

Legolas looks at you with adoring eyes as he reaches a hand up to gently tuck some damp hair behind your ear. “You’re all mine now, just as I’m yours.” His hands gently squeeze your waist as though afraid you may vanish from his arms. You can only nod your agreement as you gently press your lips to his again. His hands gently knead at your hips, delighting in the simplicity of your skin against his. His mouth grazes softly along the slope of your shoulders in barely-there kisses. “All mine…”

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[redheadedramblings]

Whispers of Dawn's Return (One Shot)

Summary: In the tranquil dawn of Ithilien, you awaken to the tender return of your elven husband Legolas after a fortnight's absence

Paring: Legolas x Human Reader

word count: 7000+

warnings: NSFW, SMUT, Fluff

A/N : Hello there! I wrote this sweet and passionate one shot the other day, I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.

The ancient forests of Ithilien stretched like a verdant tapestry beneath the star-strewn skies of Middle-earth, their leaves whispering secrets carried on the wind from distant realms. Once scarred by the shadows of Mordor, this land had been reclaimed in the wake of the War of the Ring, its rolling hills and crystal-clear streams now a haven for those who sought peace amid the remnants of old battles. The air here was perfumed with the scent of wild herbs—ataraxia blooms that unfurled their petals only at twilight, mingling with the earthy aroma of moss-covered oaks and the faint, salty tang from the Anduin River winding lazily through the valleys below. In the heart of this rejuvenated wilderness stood the elven outpost of Emyn Arnen, a graceful fusion of nature and craftsmanship where stone archways intertwined with living vines, and towers rose like elegant sentinels, their spires catching the first glimmers of dawn.

Your bedchamber, perched high in one such tower, was a sanctuary of serene beauty, designed with the ethereal touch of elven architects. The walls were hewn from pale limestone, veined with subtle flecks of silver that gleamed like captured moonlight, and adorned with intricate tapestries depicting the legends of the Eldar: the Two Trees of Valinor in their eternal glow, the flight of the Noldor across the Helcaraxë, and the heroic deeds of figures like Fingolfin challenging Morgoth himself. Tall, arched windows dominated one side of the room, frameless and open to the elements, allowing the night breezes to dance freely through gossamer curtains woven from spider silk harvested from the ancient woods of Mirkwood. These curtains billowed like ethereal spirits, their translucent fabric embroidered with golden threads that mimicked the constellations above—Eärendil's star shining brightest among them.

The bed itself was a masterpiece of elven artistry, vast and canopied with branches that seemed to grow from the floor, their leaves perpetually green through some subtle enchantment. The mattress was stuffed with down from the great swans of the Anduin and layered with silken sheets imported from the distant havens of Lindon, soft as a lover's sigh. Scattered across the polished wooden floor—crafted from the resilient heartwood of mallorn trees—were rugs dyed in deep indigos and crimsons, remnants of Gondorian trade routes that now flourished in peacetime. A low table beside the bed held a crystal decanter of miruvor, the invigorating cordial of the elves, its faint glow illuminating a cluster of personal treasures: a lock of your husband's silver-gold hair bound with a mithril clasp, a pressed flower from your wedding day in the glades of Lothlórien, and a small dagger forged in the fires of Rivendell, its hilt engraved with runes of protection.

It was in this cocoon of tranquility that you lay, the early morning hours wrapping around you like a gentle embrace. The world outside was still cloaked in the hush of pre-dawn, the stars fading one by one as the eastern horizon hinted at the sun's imminent arrival. A light breeze slipped through the open windows, carrying the crisp chill of night mingled with the promise of warmth, rustling the curtains and sending faint ripples across the sheets that draped your form. You were asleep, lost in the dreamless repose that came from nights spent in quiet longing, your body curled beneath the covers in a white sleep dress of fine linen, its fabric light and flowing, embroidered with delicate vines along the hem—a gift from the weavers of Minas Tirith, symbolizing the union of human resilience and elven grace.

The dress clung softly to your curves, its neckline dipping modestly yet revealing the gentle rise and fall of your chest with each breath. Your hair, unbound and splayed across the pillow like a dark halo, caught the faint starlight, while your face—softened by sleep—bore the subtle marks of your mortal life: faint lines at the corners of your eyes from laughter shared under moonlit skies, and a freckle or two from days spent wandering the sun-dappled paths of Ithilien hand-in-hand with your beloved. As a human wed to an elf, your life was a bridge between two worlds, one fleeting and passionate, the other eternal and serene.

Two weeks had passed since he departed on his scouting trip, venturing north along the borders of the Gladden Fields to monitor the lingering shadows that sometimes stirred in the aftermath of Sauron's fall. Orc remnants, twisted creatures, and uneasy whispers from the Misty Mountains required vigilant eyes, and none were keener than those of the Prince of Mirkwood. You had bid him farewell at the edge of the forest, your hand lingering on his as he mounted his steed, Arod, a descendant of the noble horses of Rohan. "Return to me swiftly, my heart," you had whispered, and he had pressed a kiss to your knuckles, his blue-grey eyes shimmering with unspoken promises. The days without him had been filled with the routines of Ithilien life—tending herb gardens that supplied remedies to nearby settlements, reading ancient scrolls in the outpost's library, and sharing meals with the small community of elves and men who called this place home. Yet the nights were long, the bed vast and empty, your thoughts drifting to him under the vast canopy of stars.

Now, in the velvet hush of your chamber, the door creaked open with the subtlety of a leaf falling in autumn. Legolas entered silently, his elven boots making no sound on the wooden floor. He was clad in his traveling garb: a cloak of grey-green Lorien weave that blended seamlessly with the forest, a tunic of deep emerald stained faintly with the dust of the road, and leggings tucked into boots caked with the mud of distant marshes. His bow, unstrung but ever at the ready, was slung over his shoulder alongside a quiver of fletched arrows, their tips glinting like captured frost. His hair, usually bound in warrior braids, hung loose and slightly tousled, damp from the night's dew, framing a face etched with the faint weariness of travel—yet his eyes, those luminous pools of winter sky, sparkled with the joy of homecoming.

He paused at the threshold, his gaze softening as it fell upon you, asleep and unaware. The sight of you stirred something profound within him, a blend of immortal longing and the tender vulnerability he had learned from loving a mortal. Setting his bow and quiver aside with care, he approached the bed, the breeze from the windows catching his cloak and making it flutter like wings. He sat gently on the edge of the mattress, the bed dipping slightly under his weight, and leaned over you. His hand, cool from the night air and scented with pine resin, reached out to stroke your hair, fingers threading through the strands with infinite gentleness, not to wake you but to reassure himself of your presence. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as if drawing sustenance from the warmth of your skin.

It was a whisper against your temple, a gentle, repeated stroke that moved from your hairline back into the loose strands splayed across your pillow. The touch was cool, carrying the faint, clean scent of night air, pine resin, and distant, cold starlight. It traced the curve of your ear, a feather-light caress that spoke of infinite patience and a longing held carefully in check.

Your consciousness swam up from the depths, drawn by that persistent, tender contact. A soft sound escaped you, not quite a moan, more a murmur of recognition. Your eyelids fluttered open, adjusting to the dimness. The room was shadowed, but the silhouette seated on the edge of the massive bed was unmistakable. Slender, elegant, his outline a familiar cut against the grey light of the window.

“Legolas,” you breathed, his name a sigh of pure relief, a knot in your chest you hadn’t fully acknowledged loosening all at once.

He didn’t speak, not yet. His palm, cool and slightly calloused from bowstring and reins, cupped your cheek. His thumb swept over the apple of your cheek, a slow, reverent arc. In the gloom, you could see the faint gleam of his eyes, the luminous blue-grey of a winter sky just before snow. They drank you in, tracing the lines of your sleep-softened face as if memorizing them anew.

“I did not mean to wake you,” he whispered, his voice a low, melodic ripple in the quiet. It was husky with weariness, yet softened with an emotion that made your throat tighten. “I only wished to see you. To know you were real, and not a vision my mind conjured from loneliness in the wild.”

You turned your face into his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. The taste of him—clean skin, a hint of leather, the essence of him—flooded your senses. “You’re home,” you said, the words thick. Two weeks. Fourteen nights of an empty bed that felt cavernous, of listening for a footfall that never came. “You’re really here.”

“I am.” He leaned down, his forehead touching yours. His silver-gold hair, slightly damp from the night’s moisture, fell like a curtain around your faces, closing you in a private world. “Melin le,” he murmured, the Elvish words a warm breath against your lips. “I have carried the thought of you like a star in my hand every league, every hour.”

Your joy bubbled over as you sat up fully in bed, pulling Legolas into a tight embrace, your arms wrapping around his neck as if to anchor him there forever. His body, lean and strong from the journey, molded against yours, and you buried your face in the crook of his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of forest and freedom. "When did you get back?" you whispered against his skin, your voice muffled but laced with eager curiosity. "The scouts said you might be delayed by the rains in the north."

He chuckled softly, a vibration you felt through his chest, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Only moments ago, my love. I rode through the night to reach you sooner—Arod sensed my urgency and flew like the wind. The rains were fierce, but they parted before us, as if the Valar themselves willed my return." His words were a balm, but your mind raced to the perils he might have faced, the hidden dangers of the wilds that no elf, even one as skilled as he, could entirely evade.

Pulling back slightly, you cupped his face in your hands, your eyes scanning him intently in the dim light. "Are you injured? Tell me truly—don't spare me the details just to ease my worry." Your fingers trailed down his arms, feeling for any telltale stiffness or warmth that might betray a wound, then to his sides, gently pressing along his ribs. He remained still under your inspection, his gaze warm and indulgent, though a faint wince escaped him when your hand brushed a spot near his shoulder.

"A mere bruise from a low-hanging branch in the misty thickets," he admitted with a wry smile, guiding your hand to the faint discoloration blooming under his tunic. "Nothing that time and your touch won't mend. The true ache was in my heart, far from you." You frowned, your mortal concern sharpening as you lifted the edge of his tunic to examine it closer, your fingertips tracing the purplish mark with feather-light care. "See? No blood, no broken skin. I am whole, thanks to your wards and my kin's vigilance."

You nodded, relieved but not entirely appeased, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the bruise. "Promise me you'll let me tend to it properly later—with salves and rest. You've pushed yourself too hard." Your hands continued their exploration, sliding up to his neck and into his hair, checking for any hidden scrapes, while he watched you with eyes full of adoration, his own hands resting on your hips as if to ground himself in your presence.

The ache of missing him transformed, melting into a liquid warmth that pooled low in your belly. You pushed yourself up on your elbows, the thin sleeping dress of pale linen slipping from one shoulder. “Let me see you,” you whispered. “Let me help.”

He nodded, a small, grateful motion. You moved to sit fully, the blankets pooling at your waist. Your fingers went to the intricate clasps of his travel-worn cloak, the grey-green fabric smelling of forest loam and campfire smoke. He remained still, his gaze never leaving you, his own hands coming up to frame your face again as you worked. Each clasp yielded with a soft snick. You pushed the heavy wool from his shoulders, letting it fall in a heap on the floor beside the bed.

Next was his tunic, a sturdy garment of dark green. You tugged the hem from the waistband of his leggings, your knuckles brushing against the flat, hard plane of his stomach. He sucked in a quiet, sharp breath at the contact. You lifted the tunic up and over his head, and he raised his arms to help, the muscles in his torso and arms flexing, defined even in the low light. He was bare now from the waist up, his skin pale as moonstone, smooth and unmarred save for the faint silvery lines of very old, very minor scars. The scent of him intensified—clean sweat, sun on skin, the pure, masculine musk of him that went straight to your head.

Your hands flattened against his chest, feeling the steady, strong beat of his heart under your palm. It was quickening. You leaned in and pressed your lips to the center of his chest, just over that frantic rhythm. His hands came up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair.

“Your turn,” he murmured, his voice now carrying a new, rough edge.

His hands slid from your hair to the thin straps of your sleeping dress. He hooked a finger under each one and drew them down your arms with agonizing slowness. The linen whispered over your skin, catching briefly on the peaks of your nipples before sliding down your torso. A cool draft touched your newly bared skin, but it was chased away instantly by the heat of his gaze. He let the dress fall to your lap, then with a gentle push, urged you to lie back against the pillows.

He looked his fill. In the indigo light, your body was a landscape of soft curves and shadows. Your breasts, full and heavy, rose and fell with your accelerating breath, the nipples tightening into dusky, eager peaks. The dip of your waist, the swell of your hips, the thatch of darker hair at the junction of your thighs—he took it all in, his eyes burning with a devotion that was also fiercely, undeniably hungry.

“So beautiful,” he breathed, not as a bland compliment, but as a awed statement of fact. “My beautiful, wife. The sight of you is a balm that heals all weariness.”

He leaned over you, bracing himself on one arm, and finally, finally brought his mouth to yours.

The first kiss was a reunion. Soft, searching, a slow melding of lips that spoke of hello and homecoming. His mouth was cool at first, then warming rapidly against yours. You sighed into him, your hands coming up to slide over the smooth, powerful muscles of his back, feeling them shift and coil under your touch. He tasted of the clear water from his journey and something uniquely, essentially Legolas—an evergreen sweetness, a hint of wild honey.

The kiss deepened. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you opened for him willingly. The slide of his tongue against yours was slow, sensuous, a deliberate exploration. There was no hurry, only the profound luxury of rediscovery. One of his hands slid from your cheek down the column of your throat, his thumb stroking the frantic pulse there, then lower. He cupped your breast, his palm covering the full, soft weight, his fingers finding your nipple. He rolled the tight bud between his thumb and forefinger, a gentle, knowing pressure that made your back arch off the bed, a broken sound catching in your throat.

He broke the kiss, his breath coming in warm gusts against your wet lips. He looked down at where his hand worshipped your breast, his eyes dark with intent. “I have dreamed of touching you just like this,” he confessed, his voice a low rumble. “Of feeling this perfect weight in my hand, of watching this pretty nipple harden for me.” He lowered his head and took the peak into his mouth.

The heat and wetness of his mouth was a shock of pure, dazzling pleasure. He suckled slowly, his tongue laving the sensitive tip in firm, circular strokes. His free hand found your other breast, mirroring the attention, pinching and rolling that nipple until the sensations doubled, tripled, a bright, aching need coiling deep in your cunt. You cried out, your fingers clutching at his hair, holding him to you. He groaned against your flesh, the vibration travelling straight to your core.

He kissed a wet, hot trail down the valley between your breasts, over the quivering plane of your stomach. His lips were soft, his tongue occasionally flicking out to taste your skin. You felt the muscles of your abdomen jump under his mouth. He nuzzled the soft curve of your belly, his hands sliding under you to grip your ass, kneading the full, yielding flesh.

“Part your legs for me, my love,” he whispered against your skin, his breath ghosting over the very heart of you.

Trembling, you did. The cool air touched your exposed folds, and you felt incredibly open, incredibly vulnerable. He settled between your thighs, his hands sliding under your ass to tilt you up towards his mouth. For a long moment, he just looked, his gaze hot and unwavering on your exposed pussy.

In the dim light, your cunt was a beautiful, intimate sight. The outer lips were plump and a deep, flushed pink, glistening already with your arousal. He used his thumbs to gently part them further, revealing the darker, delicate inner folds, slick and swollen, and the tight, furled bud of your clit, visibly throbbing. The scent of your desire, musky and sweet, filled the small space between you.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with want. “So wet for me already. This perfect, pretty cunt. I have missed its taste more than sunlight.”

And then he lowered his mouth and licked a long, slow stripe from the very bottom of your entrance all the way up to your clit.

The sensation was electric, a bolt of pure, white-hot pleasure that made your entire body jolt. A sharp, ragged cry tore from your throat. He did it again, and again, broad, flat strokes of his tongue that coated it in your essence. Then he focused, his mouth sealing over your clit, sucking gently as the very tip of his tongue flicked rapidly against the hypersensitive nub.

“Oh, gods… my love… fuck,” you babbled, your hips lifting off the bed, seeking more of that devastating pressure. He held you firm, his hands keeping your ass in his grip, controlling the pace. He alternated between soft, sucking kisses on your clit and deep, probing thrusts of his tongue into your hole, fucking you slowly with it, mimicking the act to come. The wet, obscene sounds of his mouth on your pussy filled the room, a lewd counterpoint to your gasping moans.

The coil inside you wound tighter and tighter, a pressure building at the base of your spine. You were panting, your hands fisted in the sheets. “I’m close… so close…”

He pulled back, leaving you throbbing and empty. A sob of protest escaped you. He surged up your body, his own need evident in the hard, insistent line of his erection straining against the soft leather of his leggings. He kissed you hungrily, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice ragged with his own restraint. “I need to be inside you when you come. I need to feel that sweet cunt milking my cock.”

The vulgarity from his normally elegant mouth was wildly arousing. You fumbled for the laces of his leggings, your fingers clumsy with need. He helped you, shoving them down over his hips along with his smallclothes. His cock sprang free, and you gasped.

It was long and slender like the rest of him, but thick where it mattered, crowned with a broad, flushed head. Veins traced its length, and it stood rigid, curving slightly upward, a bead of clear fluid already glistening at the tip. It was beautiful and intimidating, and your cunt clenched in empty, desperate anticipation.

He knelt between your spread thighs, his hands running up your inner legs, pushing them wider. He leaned over you, bracing himself on his arms, the tip of his cock nudging against your soaked entrance. He looked into your eyes, his expression a storm of love and lust.

“I love you,” he said, the words a solemn vow. “Every part of you. Every sigh, every tremble. Mine.”

“Yours,” you echoed, reaching up to touch his face. “Always. Please… I need you.”

He pressed forward.

The head of his cock parted your slick folds, stretching the rim of your hole. He pushed in an inch, just enough to make you both gasp at the exquisite, familiar tightness. He held there, letting your body adjust, his forehead pressed to yours, his eyes squeezed shut.

“So good,” he groaned. “So fucking tight and hot. I will never get used to this feeling.”

He sank another inch, then another, in a series of slow, controlled pushes. Each one sent a wave of deep, filling pleasure through you. You could feel every inch of him, the thick stretch, the pulsing heat as he seated himself to the hilt, his hips flush against your ass. You were full, so completely full of him. A deep, satisfied moan rolled from your chest.

He began to move.

There was no frantic pounding, no desperate race. This was a slow, deep, rolling rhythm, a dance of reconnection. He withdrew almost completely, leaving just the tip inside, before sliding back in with a smooth, relentless glide. Each thrust dragged his cock against that perfect, sensitive spot inside you, building a crescendo of pleasure that was both overwhelming and soothing.

The sounds were obscenely beautiful: the wet, rhythmic slap of skin on skin, his ragged breaths, your high, keening whimpers, the creak of the massive bedframe. You wrapped your legs high around his waist, locking your ankles at the small of his back, pulling him deeper. Your nails scored lightly down his back, and he growled, picking up the pace just a fraction.

“That’s it,” he panted, his hips snapping forward with more force. “Take me. Take all of me. This cunt was made for my cock.” He shifted his angle, and on the next thrust, he hit a spot that made you see stars. A sharp, guttural cry was ripped from you.

“There! Right there, please!”

He obliged, hammering that exact spot with unerring accuracy. The coil, which had never fully unwound, snapped back with vengeance. The orgasm rolled over you in a deep, seismic wave, starting in your cunt and radiating outwards to your toes, your fingertips, the very roots of your hair. Your vision whited out. Your cunt clenched around him in rapid, fluttering pulses, milking his length, and you screamed his name into the crook of his neck, your body bowing off the bed.

Feeling you come around him was his undoing. His rhythm shattered into short, frantic thrusts. “I can feel you… fucking hell, I can feel you coming on my cock,” he grunted, his voice breaking. “I’m going to fill you. I’m going to pump my fucking cum so deep inside you.”

With three more brutal, deep drives, he buried himself to the root and stilled. A raw, elvish cry was torn from his throat, a sound of utter release. You felt the hot, sudden surge of his release as he came, jet after jet of his seed painting the deepest part of your womb. The pulses seemed to go on and on, each one wringing a low groan from his chest. He collapsed onto you, his full weight a welcome anchor, his face buried in your neck, his body shuddering through the last of his climax.

For long minutes, there was only the sound of your shared, labored breathing and the frantic beating of your hearts slowing to a synchronous rhythm. He was still inside you, softening, a warm, spent weight. His arms came around you, holding you so tightly it was as if he wanted to merge your bodies into one.

He finally lifted his head. His eyes were soft, sated, luminous with love. He kissed you, slow and tender, a world away from the frantic passion of moments before.

“I missed you,” he whispered against your lips.

You smiled, your hands stroking through his sweat-damp hair. “I missed you, too. Welcome home, my love.”

He made a contented sound and nuzzled back into your neck. “I am not leaving this bed for a week.”

“Promises, promises,” you teased softly, your own body humming with satisfaction, already feeling the pleasant ache between your legs.

He shifted, his cock slipping from your well-used cunt with a soft, wet sound, followed by a trickle of his release. He paid it no mind, simply gathering you into his side, pulling the heavy blankets over your cooling bodies. You curled into him, your head on his chest, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart. The first true rays of dawn began to paint the room in pale gold and rose, catching in the dust motes and glinting off the silver threads in the coverlet. Legolas’s fingers resumed their gentle stroking of your hair, and you drifted in a haze of perfect, sated bliss.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, you both lay entangled in the sheets, your bodies slick with sweat and humming with the afterglow of your union. Legolas held you close, his arm draped possessively over your waist, his breath steadying against your hair as the first golden rays of morning filtered through the curtains. You nestled into his side, your head on his chest, listening to the eternal rhythm of his heart—a sound that had become your lullaby in this shared life between worlds.

For hours, neither of you stirred beyond the occasional shift to draw closer, the morning unfolding in lazy contentment. You traced idle patterns on his skin, following the faint scars from battles long past, while he murmured tales from his journey in a low, melodic voice: the sight of a hidden glade alive with fireflies, the call of an eagle soaring over the Anduin, the quiet camaraderie with his fellow scouts around a flickering campfire. "And through it all," he whispered, his fingers weaving through your hair, "I carried you here," tapping his chest gently, "a light that no shadow could dim."

Time seemed to stretch endlessly in that cocoon of warmth, the outside world a distant murmur. You shared soft kisses and whispered dreams—of future adventures together, of planting a garden with seeds from distant lands, of nights under the stars where mortality and immortality blurred into simple, profound love. As the sun climbed higher, bathing the room in full light, Legolas pulled you even tighter, his lips brushing your forehead. "Let the world wait a little longer, meleth nîn. This moment is ours."

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.

[horangluvv]

WARNING: HEAVY SMUT, SHARING PARTNER, QUICKIE SEX. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 👀 image below is not mine

Pairing: Thranduil x reader x legolas

Thranduil fucking her future daughter-in-law before the wedding 🔥

“Adar” you whispered. You’re in your chamber with the maids preparing for your wedding ceremony. Y/n’s wearing her white and long wedding gown filled with diamonds and crystal beads. She smiles as the king walks closer to her.

“Leave us” Thranduil waited till all the maids left the room. He locked the door behind, never leaving his gazed to his beautiful soon to be daughter-in-law.

“Why are you here, my lord.” She crossed the distance. Her beautiful gown sway as she walks. And once closer she found her hand stroke gently his cheek. The king eyes were soft yet sadness is too strong to hide under thranduil’s beautiful irises.

“I feel conflicted, meleth nin. I want you so bad to marry me and not my son. I want to hold you in my arms freely and calls you my wife in the eyes of many.” His loving touch puts a shiver on her body. The way he fondle his fingers on her waist makes her feel warm and horny.

“You know we can’t, my love. You were once married and it’s taboo to marry again. I love you dearly and I wanted no judgment from your people to fall into their king. I don’t want them to think less of you because of your second marriage.” Y/n’s loving voice soothe his mind.

She is right.

Second marriage will not be favored by all. And being married to his son will not just give them freedom to love each other but also to freely enter in a relationship that is forbidden. To express their love, to feel their body, and bind.

Legolas accepted to share her. Because just like his father, he too loves her so much. So much to the point that all his fantasies about her keeps coming in of his head. He loves to look at his wife getting railed by his father from behind, he loves how she moan when two of their cocks entered her holes. Double penetration makes her high, she craved for more, she wants more of it. So she agreed to their set up.

She loves Thranduil and she desire his son.

“Make me yours, Thranduil. Claim me now” Her sultry voice and erotic expression made him hard. He grinned.

“You want me to fuck you in your wedding dress? Is that what you want?”

“Yes, please. Fuck me, my lord. I want your cum as a goodluck charm.” The king growled. His other hand travelled down and the other one raised her wedding gown. It wasn’t that hard for a king to removed her underneath.

“Tell me what you desire, and I shall give you my gift”

She felt her juices travels down on her thigh so she closed both her legs and rubbed them together. Feeling the friction to her cunt. She gasped, as she feels his long fingers tracing her slutty clit.

“I- I desire your seed deep into me, my king. I want you to penetrate me deeper. “ she started to remove his lower pants and freed his hard and long fatty cock.

She moves closer to his ear and whisper, “let’s do it quick, my love. My wedding is starting soon”

She doesn’t want anymore foreplay. She wanted him in her. So she bend over the bed. Thranduil chuckled darkly at the sight. His son’s wife bending in front of him like a slut even when her wedding ceremony is happening in the garden right now, only waiting for her to make her appearance in front of the guest. The lord and lady of different realms.

He crumpled up her gown, exposing her bare ass and milky cunt. It’s a sight to behold. Her hole twitching, inviting the guests to entertain her itchy pussy.

He stroked his erect sex. His bulb is leaking with precum and his large veiny vein are showing.

He teases her clit and slowly guide his dick to the right hole.

“Feel me, meleth nin. Feel my cock enter your pussy” and thrust his sex deep and hard.

“Ohh I- I want more” she cries.

The king thrust slowly, letting his cock penetrate a lot more deeper reaching the entrance of her uterus.

“DO. YOU. LIKE. THAT” he continue on his rhythm. Making sure she feels all of him inside her.

“Ohhh”

“Pleasee faster”

He obeyed her plead and pump her fast and hard. Her milky juices covers his entire tip. He watch how his cock thrusting in her cunt and how it swallow him whole.

“You really want your guess to see you behaved like a slut, my love.” His thrust never stop, he continued to fuck her hard and fast almost bruising her sex.

“Do you want them to see my cum leaking down your legs as you walk the aisle.” He whispered.

“My poor legolas, waiting for you and not knowing I’m fucking his wife behind his back”

His eyes were sharper than usual when he felt her muscle tightly clinging on his dick. And he chuckled.

“You dirty little thing”

“You want that huh” and thrust more.

“Imagine yourself, my little Queen. Imagine how I fuck you hard in your shared chamber while your husband is sleeping beside you. How I railed you fast and deep. How I kiss your sensual lips.”

“Ohh thranduil, I-Im close”

“Imagine what he will feel once he found out I breed your slutty pussy with my seed.”

He feels his dick grow harder as her cunt continue to grip on his sex hard. Her orgasm is near and so does he.

He thrust more. Slow, fast and faster. He is almost there, almost..

“Oh thranduil, I’m coming! I-“ she moan loud. She tried to cover her mouth but her mind cannot even think anymore. She is filled with lust and hunger.

“Cum with me, meleth nin. Together.”

A slow knock was heard but the two continue their pursuit of pleasure. They don’t care about them, she doesn’t care of the people waiting for her. Her own mind is full of empty thoughts, nothing but pleasure.

One deep thrust… and another… and another until-

“Ohhhh” she moaned.

The father of her husband cum inside her. Warm liquid fill her pussy full. Deep and warm.

She looks at him and one final kiss was made. Their lips entwined, kissing like there is no tomorrow.

“Your highness! Are you ready?” Voices of the maid entered their ears. And yet both their lady and lord continued to share their warm.

Forbidden and sinful.

SHE SMILED as she walks the aisle, flowers in her hand. Her husband looking at her with love. People are gathered around, watching her walk with her long and beautiful white gown.

But unbeknownst to them, her gazed traveled to the ellon beside her husband. And a grinned form his lips.

His son’s beautiful wife, walking with no underwear on and cum running down her legs.

A/N: SHOULD I MAKE A PART 2 OF THIS?

[horangluvv]

WARNING: very disturbing smut, taboo, father-daughter -in-law relationship, NSFW, read at your own risk! Heavy breeding kink | Dark-romance, infidelity

PAIRING: Thranduil/female character (oc)

Thranduil having a secret relationship with his daughter-in-law. Not too much detailed, sooo. I hope this does not happen in real life tbh. Writing a fiction is totally different, it’s all in the mind.

“Thrand-umm," she moaned slightly as Thranduil's kisses became more intense. Her once-beautiful, silky robe is now on the floor, crumpled and filthy.

The king's long fingers fit wonderfully inside her cunt. A loud groan escaped her lips as he forcefully finger fucked her, cum flowing down her long and fair legs.

"M-my king, we can't-" Thranduil leaned closer to her ears, a single silence drowning out her protests. "Not yet, you will never leave this chamber unless your womb is full of my seeds."

His three fingers have now been replaced by his long and thick manhood. He thrust gently and deeply. Almost at the open door of her womb. Her tight and filthy cunt received progressively deeper thrusts.

What bothers her is not having sex with her hidden lover; in fact, the fair and lovely wife of Legolas enjoys it very much. It's only that it is almost morning. The sun is rising on the horizon, and her husband, Legolas, will eventually return to their shared chamber, which is not far from his father's private room.

And that terrifies her a lot more than she imagined.

“My husband- No, meleth.. you are only married by law but by the body and heart.. I am your husband.”

A quiet moan resonated through the king's room. The swinging of the trees and the sound of the wind bear witness to this event. How can the Valar pardon this act? Coveting someone who is owned by another is an eternal sin that will never be forgotten.

A slow but deep thrust of his cock inside her cunt. He is extremely large, both in length and in girth. Oh, Valar, please forgive this sinner. They only fell in love under the most unexpected conditions. But genuine and raw nonetheless.

“Do you feel that, meleth?”

Thranduil touches her abdomen. He can feel his manhood entering her womb. The line was clearly apparent as he shoved slowly and deeply.

"So full of my cock..." "So eager to take it all," he hummed. His nose touched hers. "Let's make you pregnant; do you want that? "

He reached for her neck, sweat flowing down, so enticing. His beloved queen, though not formal, is nonetheless his. His son may have married her, but she is completely his. He fathered her first child, her son is his.

And now the second, will still be his heir. Does anyone know?- No!

No one but them who knows the truth about her son’s father.

“I- Pleaseee… I can no longer- mmmh-“

“So wet, darling… Your cunt is a perfect match for me.”

Her lips slowly gaped from too much pleasure, and she let out a small squeal. The push went from slow and deep to fast and hard.

The moon is no longer apparent and now replaced with dawn but they never stop. They spend the entire night having sex. and too much cum flowing from her cunt.

“Cum, meleth.”

“Cum for me”

“Haah mmp- let me give you a daughter, my king. Ah- pr-princess.” The king gave a deep sound. Eyes are too sharp. Her thirsty cunt received another push. It's too fast...

“Ah”

“Fuck! My king!”

“Cum. Now” And with that, his seeds once again meet hers. His seed will require additional watering in order to be fully planted and sire a daughter. The king grinned; Legolas is finally having a little sister.

A sister that he will raise as his own daughter. How unlucky the Prince is. So unlucky…

Small voice interrupt their coupling, the voice of her son.

"Naneth? Are you there? " Three knocks were heard. She looks at the king and whispers. "It's already morning," the king, still at his zenith, kisses her nose.

“Answer him”

Her eyes widen but eventually nodded her head.

“I am here, my sapling. Your king needs my…… love a little bit more”  she says, her lips meeting his again. Her tongue fought for dominance, and saliva dripped down their throats.

“Okaayy, tell grandfather king I love him too!” Mmmh. Only a small whimper comes out of her mouth,

“Meleth, our son said he loves you too”

The great elvenking smiled, “and I love him as well, my queen”

Thranduil and his daughter-in-law’s first child.

[a-breath-of-pipeweed]

Hey queen! If the requests are still open, and if you feel up to it- I wouldn't mind a bigger look into female reader using Legolas's sensitive ears to her advantage if you know what I mean 😏😏😏 I live for soft Dom and switch Legolas (actually I live for him generally speaking but that's neither here nor there 🤭) I love you and your work so much!!! 💚💚💚

here's a gift 🎁

using legolas's sensitive elf ears to your advantage~ content warnings (MDNI): sexual content, v fingering, soft-dom!legolas -> switch!legolas, teasing f!reader

A blanket of leaves shuffled beneath your back as you felt yourself shift with every motion from the elf prince above you. The dirt you could imagine yourself picking up from them was far from your mind, thankful that they were serving as a muffler for the lewd sounds that slipped off your tongue uncontrollably.

You attentively watched Legolas above you, eyeing his flushed, pale skin and blond locks growing sleek with sweat. His hand disappeared from your line of sight by hiding up your skirt and in the wet, delicate heat that lay between your legs, his arm muscles peaking out with each sinful curl of his fingers into your velvet walls.

"You shake so tenderly for me, Loss nin," Legolas meets your eyes with a glint behind them, glossed over and hungry. You felt your soul cower slightly at the look from him.

A simple hum is all you can muster in acknowledgment. A soothing chuckle escaped his mouth when you suddenly arched off the forest floor, chasing the pad of his thumb against your bundle of nerves while his fingers still worked you open.

"You gonna be good for me and take my cock?" he practically growled out whilst adding a harsh thrust, his fingers kissing your cervix. With a yelp and a jolt from his assault, you sprang your hand to his face just above you, securing a grounding grip on the roots of his blond hair to bring you back to reality slightly.

But in doing so, your wrist brushed against the slight point of the elf's ears, causing a moment of stumbling in his harsh pace with a flinch in his shoulders.

Worry overtook you. "Did I hurt you?" you asked with concern, your hand relieving his hair and soothing the spot. He shook his head and pulled his fingers from you, and you noticed a red tinge forming on the top of his cheekbones.

The elf was stricken shy, and you cocked your head at him. "No... Y/N. It's nothing, my sweet," he let out a big breath, like he had been holding it. "I lost my concentration."

His heart was pounding. That simple of a touch? Did it really affect him that much? Even he himself was surprised. Legolas shook his head slightly to remove the tingling dancing in his ear before placing his hand back on your core to ask permission.

But it did not last long, as your affections got the better of you, and with the trace of your hand down his face, your fingers met his pointed elf ear.

Like a switch was flicked, the moment you traced the sharpened shell, Legolas faltered. His hand wet with your arousal paused in you, and a sharp inhale filled his lungs.

"Y/N..." he groaned out as your index finger traced the cartilage, small circles sending electrical signals down his spine, straight to his cock straining painfully against his pants. He pushed against the caress of your hand, subtly begging for more, like a cat rubbing against its owner for more pets. His blue eyes threatened to meet the back of his skull from the pleasure.

A smirk made itself known on your lips. "Oh? What's this I've found?" you purred.

"Y/N~..." he whimpered, letting his head drop to your chest in defeat. "This isn't fair."

A flick to the sharp point of his ear from you elicited an abrupt gasp, and much to his surprise, a quick few forces of his hips against your thigh in a half-assed effort to gain some sort of friction on his length.

"What's happened to you Legolas? Me playing with your ear has you humping my leg like a pet?"

He could only answer in a whine, not wishing to meet your eyes out of sheer embarrassment. But he enjoyed your teasing, as bashful as he was.

Little scratches, massages, brushing the pads of your fingers against his skin caused the elf to see stars. "Please meleth nin... do... not stop."

He felt your chest shake under him in a silent laugh. "I don't intend to. I would like to know what other secrets you elves hide."

{LOTR Masterlist}Requests always open for drabbles / reactions / headcanons Hope this is up to your standards my love @lady-legolas-greenleaf <3

[a-breath-of-pipeweed]

Can't get this idea of my head where Legolas has a huge crush, maybe a bit more than that, on Aragorn's sister.

Here's some headcanons hajdkasdahs

LOTR | Legolas having a crush on you, Aragorn's sister

[ Lord of the Rings Masterlist ] f!reader

This elf thinks he's subtle

He's so curious and starstruck by you, like does not really leave you alone

You always seem to have a shadow next to you, if you can count a 6ft elf prince as a shadow

He's not really familiar with his feelings, but just knows that he wants to be next to you all the time and he feels himself get all heated when you lean a little close to him

He actually thought for a while that you had some kind of elven magic talent that you were using against him

Like thought you had enchanted him to feel all these things, but he actually doesn't realise it until Aragorn points it out to him

"I don't understand. My heart races, my hands begin to sweat and I stutter my words when I talk to her."

"Legolas," Aragorn said, rubbing his eyes. "That's called liking someone. You're in love with my sister."

Legolas gets worried that confessing his feelings would change the relationship, not only with you but also with Aragorn

But Aragorn is all for it, even encouraging him to say something to you

He was raised by elves after all, and is in love with one himself

And even if he believed that the wood elves were a bit more chaotic and untamed than the high elves he grew up with, he thought that Legolas's loyalty and protective nature was a sign of his good intentions towards you

The elf prince is VERY bad at hiding his affections

Literally got shot with an arrow once that went straight through his leg and called it "just a scratch" when you were tending to the wound

The poor elf didn't want to seem weak!

When you compliment him, like a "you did well today with those orcs!" it literally makes him short circuit

And if you're independent, it literally kills him

He admires and respects you for it, but it does make him desire protecting you a bit

One time you fixed one of his braids that had come loose behind his ear and he had to clench his teeth and compose himself while your hands brushed against the sensitive points of his ears

He was quick to excuse himself when you were done, making you confused at his hurry while Aragorn laughed under his breath nearby, watching the whole ordeal

If you prefer short range weapons, he teaches you how to use his bow

Even letting you practice on the one Galadriel gifted to him, which shocked everyone

You once called him "Greenleaf" while teasing him and he had to hide his ears from you because they turned literally BRIGHT red

Bro is smitten

Also Gimli has a field day with it

"Thousands of years old, can shoot down an army of orcs in the blink of an eye, but can't talk to a woman? Christ's sake elf."

Requests for headcanons / reactions always open~

[a-breath-of-pipeweed]

that thing about Legolas watching you and Aragorn get it on (also here)

content warning (MDNI): exhibitionism, v fingering, semi-public, voyeurism, reader is not aware of Legolas watching

f!reader

And yet another shaky gasp hit his sharp ears. This time louder, more concerning, bringing a sense of worry over the woodland elf about your state.

The distracting murmurs were not new to Legolas. He had heard them before, had had them thieve focus away from his night watch and perk his ears up to listen, concluding that perhaps you were just experiencing a wretched dream. But this night, the tones were strained, less controlled, and as if they were being massaged out of your throat by force.

His apprehension overtook his priority of duty, and he stood up from his squatting position. Legolas braced his balance on the trunk of the tree that sheltered the sleeping fellowship so warmly, and he swept down to a lower branch, allowing his glacial eyes to land upon your resting form just a short drop below.

Aragorn was lying behind you, how he would most nights; face tucked where your shoulder met your neck, his broad chest against your back and gluing himself as close as possible to you.

Another whimper from you; shakier, quivering, a smothered sound that wished to be heard. Legolas cocked his head to catch the sound better, hoping to figure out if you were distressed.

But it hit him soon enough that it was quite the opposite.

A repetitive movement beneath the cover of your bedroll, around the area of your hips, caught his attention. The fabric lifted and flattened with a steady rhythm that made Legolas's cheeks grow hot and caused him to suck a quick, shocked breath in.

"Careful meleth nin..." Aragorn's strained, husky voice could be heard by the elf. His lips pressed against your ear as he spoke, not once letting up with his middle finger massaging the walls of your pussy, deeply and meticulously. "Legolas does not sleep as easily as Men. Every sound you make, he is sure to hear."

Legolas felt his blood quicken at the mention of him. His hand found the branch to balance himself as he leaned further, his wandering eyes longing for a better view of this scene that brought such tingling to his flesh.

Aragorn chuckled deeply against your skin as you drew in a sharp breath. His middle and index fingers found themselves on your clit, rubbing soft figure eights to only push you further. Your legs twitched at the change in pleasure, and your fists clenched the fur blanket covering you both, knuckles turning white.

"Do you-" you're interrupted by a swallowed gasp as Aragorn's rough hand moved from your hip to under your tunic, pinching your hardened nipple. "...do you... think he knows?"

Legolas felt a smile creep onto his face. Your coyness he always found endearing, and he could not help but bask in this sight of you; so vulnerable and helpless under Aragorn's desire to ravish you, and all for him to watch.

The ranger's eyes rolled from your hips, wriggling against his stiffness. It only made him want to torture you more, to have you press against his crotch harder. He would hate for you to stop now, and so he kept the secret of the onlooker to himself.

With the turn of his head away from your neck, his grey eyes met the depraved orbs of the elves. Legolas froze, like a deer in headlights. He was caught.

Only Aragorn did not react, but only continued his assault on your soaking cunt. The coolness of his rings kissing your clit as he pushed a finger back inside had you throw your head back against him, and he met your enthusiasm with a nuzzle against the crown of your hair. His eyes never once left the elf's.

A cruelly pleased smirk emerged on the ranger's face. "No... my love," he grumbled out. "I'm sure he has no idea."

{LOTR Masterlist} Anon you blessed creature, thank you for this idea

[a-breath-of-pipeweed]

Elves married for life

but what if there was cheating on the part of their partner?People don't love each other the way Elves do, People can cheat and find other couples

How would (Legolas, Arwen, Trhanduil) they react to their partner cheating

omg was not expecting actual heartbroken elf angst requests but none the less im here to deliver

LOTR/The Hobbit Elves | Their S/O cheats on them

[ Lord of the Rings / The Hobbit Masterlist ] Legolas, Arwen, Thranduil

Content warning, sensitive subject: relationship cheating, heartbreak, mention of depression, mention of 'having no will to live', heavy angst, no happiness

Legolas

An emotionally subtle, protective, fierce partner that would feel so utterly devoted to his partner

He loves quietly, but portrays immense loyalty

If he had a partner cheat of him, he would completely withdraw

They wouldn't hear from him or of him for weeks

A quiet heartbreak that he would want to process alone, with no one to watch or be involved in

Very self-critical, and goes over everything, anything, he could have done wrong to drive his partner to seek warmth from someone else

He disappears into the wilds as soon as he knows

The trust, the love, and the relationship would end, but elves marry for life, and Legolas's bond would remain

His loyalty would sustain itself, but he would never love again

If his S/O was a mortal, he would become skeptical of mortal values and traits, turning cold towards them for a good long while before his faith in them can even begin to be repaired

Arwen

Arwen and her utmost loyalty, devotion and overall love that she has for her partner, she would be destroyed

She made the biggest sacrifice, her immortality, so having a partner cheat on her would be catastrophic

She wouldn't know herself, as her entire fate is tied tightly to her love

Similar to Legolas, she would go completely into withdrawal

Would lose her spark, her strength, and feel so utterly lost, not knowing what else she could do

Would not even be able to face her partner, becoming too sad and would always lash out if they ever tried to explain themselves

Accused them of manipulation, lying and downright harsh betrayal, which is exactly what is was

And she would never recover, slowly diminishing in her confidence, her liveliness, before she would lose her will to live completely

Would never seek revenge, but would mourn what could have been until her death

Thranduil

A much more guarded, prideful elf that would not sit back and let himself be treated this way

If he had a partner cheat on him, especially after the loss of his wife, he would see it as a complete insult to his pride, honor and loyalty

He would have a very cold rage towards them, immediately dismissing them and not wishing at all to see them

Would refuse to even look at them, and if they did, like if they came and begged for forgiveness, he would treat them as a stranger

"You do not speak to me as if we familiar now. You have destroyed that privilege you once had."

He would few this betrayal as both very personal and political, it would leave a big stain on his judgement for the future, especially if they are a mortal being

Would threaten exile, disdain or simply a swift removal of his S/O from the Woodland realm, not wishing for them to be anywhere near him

But of course, he is not an emotionally aloof as he likes to make himself appear, and he would be heartbroken

But would hide the wound like a mountain of gold, guarded by a fierce dragon

AN: I understand that these topics can be triggering for people that have experienced them. Because of this, I didn't make it "x reader" so the situation can be a bit more removed from whoever is reading. Please if I ever write something that could potential hurt someone without my knowledge, let me know right away

[rottencherrypie]

R-18+; Tip of His Tongue (Legolas x Reader)

Summary - Another inexperienced prince learning how to pleasure a woman.

Warnings - Smut, language, afab!reader, fem!reader, mention of female genitalia (reader), oral sex (reader receiving), weird descriptions (like always), lowkey brat!Legolas, slight edging (possibly), teasing, face riding, inexperienced!Legolas, dom!Reader, sub!Legolas, dom/sub dynamics, a hint of praise kink if you squint (Legolas), implied squirting (Legolas drowns in it, RIP).

Pronouns & POV - None, third-person

Word Count - 3,000+ (almost 3.1k but a little under)

A/N - Another suggested smut! "legolas learns to eat pussy. that's it." — (anonymous) Thank you for the suggestion, I hope you enjoy! I apologize that it is taking me a while to get smuts out, my health got a bit wonky which made it hard for me to focus on writing for long periods of time. I did manage to get through some other non-writing projects that had been in limbo, so it was not entirely wasted time. I am still in the process of writing some suggestions as this is being written, so thank you all for your patience and for your kindness! I am horrendous at replying to asks, but rest assured that I have seen each one and will be hoarding the kind words like a dragon hoards treasure (because you all are precious gems <3). Reader has no defining features other than soft lips, a round ass, and I will die on the hill that Legolas would not care if you smoother him. Smut below the cut!

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As the chilled caress of night air roamed against your skin, allowing the sensitive buds upon your chest to harden beneath the bitter nip of its touch, a heated gust cast down upon the exposed flesh of your cunt—shielding it from the night's bitter touch.

It was an uneven—anxious—breath. It rained down upon your glistening hole, causing it to appear as if it were sparkling beneath the orange hue of firelight, yet ever so slightly shielded by the shadow that loomed above. The warming caress of heated breath inched closer to the moistened hole—seeming to be drooling in anticipation under the anxious heat of the elven prince's breath as his lips neared it.

The elven prince's lips parted slightly, allowing the tip of his tongue to slip through the pearly gates of his teeth—swiping at the flesh of his lower lip as the weight of his head delved further between the plushness of your thighs—seeking out the sweet nectar hidden betwixt them. The warmth of his breath inched closer to the source of your lust; the tips of your toes curled in anticipation as the heat continued to rain down upon your eagerly awaiting hole.

A wait that was not for long, as the prince's restraint had begun to fray the moment he had laid eyes upon the delicious sight of your exposed cunt—drooling and eagerly awaiting the moistened caress of his unskilled tongue.

The wet glide of the elven prince's tongue swiped against the sweetened tang of your nectar; the act was a sudden, almost sharp, swipe. It was unplanned, a test of his actions as his ocean eyes bore up at you—sparkling amidst the sea of eagerness was the twinge of desperation as he awaited your response.

"Slowly." The word left your lips in a gentle breath, nearly sounding amused as you began to instruct the typically skilled prince. "Follow my lead." The bed let out a soft creak as your weight shifted upon it—your back curving forward, allowing the wetness of your arousal to press against the prince's tongue, flattening the moistened muscle slightly in the process for better leverage.

It did not take long for the air to fill with the harmony of the wooden frame creaking in sync with your weight as you rose and lowered the length of your cunt against the wetness of his tongue. The taste of your arousal was distinct; it was sweet whilst also holding a bitter tang amidst the sea of other various flavors, ones the elven prince had never tasted in his life prior—yet now they coated every taste bud upon his unskilled tongue as you guided him in the dance of oral pleasure.

Amid your guidance, the grasp you had mindlessly placed upon the smoothened sheets beneath you began to ease. A singular hand lost all hold over the luxurious cloth and quickly found itself tangled within the sea of silken locks upon the elven prince's head—furthering the leverage you held upon him as you continued to puppet him to your pleasure.

"There we go," A familiar heat began to spread throughout your hips as you breathed that small praise, yet your motions did not cease. "something like that..." The words were nothing but air escaping your lips as your neck began to crane backward, the weight of your head seeking out the plushness of the pillows beneath him as your hips continued to rock against the elven prince's face.

The praise was not lost within the chilled embrace of the night's air that it was breathed into: as ever the eager student, the prince began to mimic the motions you led him in moments ago. And it had started on a good note; the wetness of his tongue continued to lap against the length of your cunt, savoring the sweet nectar that seeped forth from it—acting much like a spoiled cat would with some cream. The motions were as slow as you had shown him, copying the exact motions you had done prior in the dance of pleasure—licking from the very top of your folds, swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves within them, and then slowly lowering to the hole that drooled so prettily for him.

Yet, the elven prince quickly found his pacing, growing more and more confident within the folds of your wetness.

It was a gradual change, the course no longer fixating on the entirety of your cunt as it quickly began to fixate on one location in particular—the drenched flesh that surrounded your leaking entrance. The sensitive circle of flesh leaked eagerly in anticipation as the focus fell upon it; it yearned for the internal caress of the prince's tongue—or other appendages—yet it was left in that state as the moistened appendage refused to delve within.

No. Rather than be embraced by the sweet, warming embrace of your inner walls—it remained upon the thin outer layer of flesh, merely circling it. The tip of his tongue grazed against your needy hole in a slow circle around the sensitive lining of your wetness, allowing it to catch every droplet of your sweet nectar as it escaped from your center.

"Fuck." The word escaped your lips in an irritated breath as the weight of your hips began to quiver from the slow strokes of the elf's tongue. Yet, the sound of your irritation did not seem to sway the prince from his actions, rather, the sound of your displeasure appeared to further his ministrations in tracing circles around your sensitive opening.

"Move." You instructed—the word escaping your lips in a mewled tone. The swaying of your hips grew more mindless against the patterns of his tongue, attempting to lure him into the warmth of your center. Yet the attempts were unfruitful as the wettened muscle of the prince's mouth refused to delve within your depths of pleasure, regardless of the beautiful ways your hips swayed against the smoothness of his face.

It would always be a breath away, the glistening entrance practically rested upon the tip of his tongue, allowing the elf to apply the faintest amount of pressure against the willing, needy hole as it flattened against it—the very first taste buds upon the tip becoming coated with the taste of your lust in the process, yet the others only lingered with the memory with the sweet metallic taste of your arousal. As before any further could become soaked in your arousal—to become welcomed in your caverns of pleasure—the prince's head would shift in the slightest of manners, refusing to give you the internal caress that you so desperately craved.

The warmth of pleasure that had once spread throughout your body began to shift into another heat, irritation.

A groan fell from your soft lips as the weight of your hips shifted against the moistness of his tongue, nearly chasing after it as you yearned to have the twitching muscle slide into your aching core. Yet, much to your dismay, the prince continued to lead you in a game of cat and mouse; shifting, swaying away from your pleasure—inching back the moment before his moistened length could sink into the overflowing fountain of your lust.

Fine. If that was how the prince wished to play his hand.

The grasp you had held upon the back of the elf's head began to tighten, at first a warning grasp to remind him of his place—yet you were soon able to see that a mere squeeze was not enough. It quickly firmed, knuckles clenching around the smooth locks as the tips of your nails began to dig into his sensitive scalp—the bitter sting of them lighting piercing the flesh of his head allowed for a hiss to vibrate against your moistened hole. A sensation that caused a shiver of pleasure to roam down the length of your spine.

"Up."The singular word hard barely lingered in the chilled air long enough for the elf to process it before the sudden, sharp tug of his golden locks forced his head backward. The action exposed every inch of the prince's slender neck to your eye as his head craned backward, yet your gaze fell upon the center of his neck—watching as the ball beneath his skill bobbed as he swallowed down a breath, as he anxiously awaited what would follow.

"Now." The elf swiftly rose from his knees at your command, his ocean gaze never leaving yours as his body straightened from the old, wooden floor beneath him—the grasp you held upon the back of his head never ceasing as he did so, merely tightening as you, yourself, shifted into a more comfortable seated position upon the bed's plushness—the blue heat of his ocean-colored eyes burnt into your exposed flesh as the prince eagerly watched how it shifted upon the softness of the bed beneath you.

"On the bed." The elven prince followed your second command as swiftly, and as eagerly, as he had followed the first. The anxious heat of anticipation emanated off of his tall, slender form as he inched closer to you; soon joining your side upon the softness of the mattress. The bed groaned as the weight of his body sat beside you, the mattress sinking inward slightly as he shifted upon the bedding as expectancy arose within him—the tight grasp you held upon his silken locks remained tight throughout this.

The tips of your nails found themselves digging deeper within the sensitive scalp of the blonde's head, embedding themselves with a snug pinch as the weight of his head was suddenly pulled backward—forcing the elf down upon the mattress. The curve of his back pressed firmly against it, his once burning gaze upon you now forced upon the sight of the old ceiling above whilst your grip remained firm upon the elf's head.

"And here I thought you would be easy to teach." The corners of your lips threatened to curve into a smirk, twitching in anticipation as you gazed upon the once powerful elven prince who laid weakened within the clutch of your palm—neck craned, eyes wide, and breath hitching within the back of his throat. Yet, you had managed to keep the corners lowered; wishing to keep your enjoyment of the elf's teasing secret.

"Regardless," The mattress creaked as your position shifted upon it, yet this was not any mere position that your body had contorted into. No. "you will learn." The weight of your heavenly figure had departed from the plushness beneath you, finding itself onto the sharpness of the elf's face—straddling it.

The plushness of your thighs encased the sides of his face, the heat of your cunt a breath away from his thin lips—lips which glid against your moistened folds as you lowered yourself upon him. The softness of his lips parting sent a shiver down your spine as the tip of his moistened muscle slid out from between the pink gates of his mouth—it swiped against your leaking entrance as if seeking permission to delve into the drenched cavern of your lust. "All the way." A command that did not need to be repeated, nor did it need to linger within the air for a moment longer as the length of the elf's inexperienced tongue dove into the wetness of your center.

A sensation you had been yearning for since this had all begun.

The act was not as swift as when the prince's tongue swiped against the length of your cunt—a shiver ran down your spine at the reminder of the act—it still held a decent pace. Every centimeter of the moist muscle eased into the warmth of your pleasure, lingering within the grasp of your welcoming walls for a few moments before the next slowly took its place within your depths.

And though the action was gradual, the elven prince adjusting to how the tang of your arousal coated every bud upon his tongue as he sunk into you, he did not dare to tease you any further—not wishing to anger the woman who straddled his face.

A satisfied groan rumbled deep within your chest, the noise slipping through the softness of your lips upon an exhale as the weight of your head fell backward—neck craning just as the prince's was—as you sunk further into the wettened internal caress. The flesh of your thighs tightened slightly around the sides of the elf's head, applying a faint pressure to his sharp, sensitive ears as you danced upon his tongue.

As a steady pattern began to form within the mindless swaying of your hips, the prince's moist muscle began to explore the inner workings of the walls of your lust. The patterns and pace he made held no true rhyme or reason—a swirl here, a flick against there, and darting in any position he could—but soon, one began to form as you led him in the dance of your pleasure.

The grasp you held upon the elf's head tightened, the tips of your nails piercing against his scalp—enough to leave angry reddened marks in their wake—as the puppeteering of his head returned. An act that caused the pleasurable vibrations of the prince's pained hiss to echo against your wet folds; the tips of your toes curling at the pulsation against your cunt as the dance of pleasure began to rise in tempo—soreness be damned.

As your hips rocked and rolled with rising speed, the bed continued to creak and groan under the vast movements, the weight of your cunt pressed further into the curvatures of his face, sinking into the sways of pleasure. An act that the prince met with the quickening motions of his tongue inside the walls of your sopping entrance. It jutted, flicked, and swirled within—soon finding itself scraping against the most sensitive spots within your core, before returning to the unplanned swirling within the hold of your warmth.

It danced within you, similarly to how you danced upon his face, guided by the silent symphony of pleasure—a tune heard by known yet known by all, accompanied by choruses only the soul knew to vocalize into the most beautiful, strained tunes of lust-driven gratification.

"Shit—" The word found itself caught within the back of your throat, hovering within the length of your neck for a few moments before it was pushed out by the rushing sound of pleasure that was your strained moan. The pace at which your hips moved had begun to shift as the heat of soreness within your hips began to burn with a new warmth—the warmth of nearing.

The fluidity of your motions began to lack, turning to sharper—almost stuttering-like—motions as the weight of your body pressed further onto the elf's face; the pressure of nearing completion made it hard to care, let alone pay attention to, keeping the prince's airway free—but he did not care.

Emboldened, the prince's slender hands found themselves upon the rounded flesh of your rear. The tips of his fingers dug into the plumpness of your arse, pulling it further against the smoothness of his skin whilst you continued to ride his tongue to your pleasure—his tongue curling inside of the walls leading towards your womb, scraping against one of your many sensitive spots.

A gasp fell from your lips at the sensation, a sound that soon masked with a deep groan of pleasure that rumbled forth from the center of your chest; the pace your hips held was fast and sloppy—the weight of your cunt pressed firmly against his parted lips, the essence of your pleasure coating his amateurish tongue whilst it continued to curl within you.

As the familiar tingle of pleasure began to rise from the tips of your toes, the piercing grasp you had held upon the prince's head had managed to tighten further, the skin around your knuckles tightening—almost revealing the bone—as you held onto his golden locks as if they were your only anchor from being whisked away into the sea of pleasure. The weight of his head rested within your palm as the weight of your cunt rested upon his lower face. The motions of your hips turned from that of stuttering into bucking motions, jolting up into the curving of the wet muscle as it scraped against one of your sweetest spots. The pleasurable tingling that roamed throughout your veins swiftly turned into the scorching burn of anticipation.

The static's intensity grew harsher, the burn within you brighter than that of a bonfire as every flick, every curve of the prince's novice tongue added tinder to the fire that spread rampant throughout your veins.

And, with the final flick of his tongue, you were consumed by the fire of ecstasy.

The familiar embrace of pleasure turned all to static, even the sounds of your incoherent moans as they danced within the air—and the hiss of the prince's lips as your nails continued to claw upon the back of his head, further angering the reddened marks the tips of your nails had left behind prior. All sensation had left your body; it felt as if your very essence had been whisked away within the chilled night's gentle breeze, yet still grounded upon the elf's face as your pleasure rained onto his tongue—drowning him in your pleasure, as you sank into the sea.

It felt as if all time had stopped whilst also speeding up all at once. As if you were everything, but nothing.

The sounds that escaped through your softened lips were incoherent, primal—a song from your soul orchestrated by the unskilled prince's tongue.

The bitter nip of chilled air slowly guided your essence back into your quivering form, the fire of pleasure being quenched by its numbing caress—yet the heavenly tingle of ecstasy continued to dance quietly within your veins. The sensations within your body slowly began to return, the weight of your figure feeling as if was weighed down by many heavy stones as you struggled to lift your quivering form off of the elf's face—the essence of your pleasure trickling forth from the corners of his thin lips, rolling down his sharp chin as he swallowed down a mouthful of your liquid ecstasy.

The bed creaked loudly as the weight of your body flopped onto it, the burning heat of your exposed form emanating beside the elven prince's head; the sound of your shared, uneven attempt of returning breaths danced within the night's air—both stunned at the prince's prowess.

He was truly a natural at his craft.