Tumgik
#famished fics
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This should be a crime. Only TWELVE? The people (me) are starving!
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nodirectionhome-ao3 · 14 days
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What a week, huh?
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tk-writer · 1 year
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if i'm the only person bringing surgamy food to the table then so be it
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ltwharfy · 8 months
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It's really rewarding when I put some of my weird sense of humor in a fic and get comments from people about bits they found funny. Like, I am genuinely relieved to know that I amused someone else besides myself by coming up with a verbosely named knock-off version of Hungry, Hungry Hippos in my most recent story.
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gardenoblues · 15 days
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why must i, of all times, be continuing my fics at the crack of dawn til early morn?
(and why is my brain more pumped than ever? I swear the chemicals in my brain are imbalanced to the point of no return)
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hotchfiles · 1 month
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [COME UNBOUND HERE] ❞ — NSFW ; MDNI!
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pairing: hotch x fem!bau!reader. summary: “completely self-reliant, you really don’t need me at all, do you?” in which hotch gets completely pussy whipped after seeing you taking down an unsub. content warnings: making out, foul language, sex, unprotected p in v with no mentions of birth control (no breeding kink just lazy writing), sub!hotch if you squint, switch!reader, nipple play, scratching, lip biting, THEY FUCK ALRIGHT. MDNI, this is a 18+ fic. word count: 1.7k a/n: requested by @mischiefmoons and her godsent filthy mind. i donnnt prooof read shiiiit.
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aaron wasn’t one to admit to having a type, sure, he knows it’s human nature to look for similar traits when choosing partners throughout life, but he was a romantic at heart  (and a sweet talker at that!), he secretly enjoyed keeping the magic of just love alive, and more than that, he simply adored the way you would roll your eyes and laugh cruelly at him, your palm hitting his arm in a light slap each time he told you his type is you. 
truthfully though, most of that was all talk from his sweet soft spot for you, everyone knew exactly his type. 
he couldn’t help but fall for confidence, every time someone confident and beautiful laughed at his terrible dry jokes he would feel his lungs tighten up, that was definitely one of the first things that made him so drawn to you, the fact you were so funny and incredibly gorgeous resulting in his everlasting love and downright depraved lust for you. 
today though, aaron found out another trait of his ideal type: could easily overpower an unsub before himself could even get to his ankle holster for his gun, before he could even try to protect you. 
your competence was never a question, an ssa like the rest of the team, twice a year having no problem at all in your evaluations. but you were a liaison, you stayed put unless extremely necessary to have the whole team out, your experience level wasn’t the same. 
he did all he could to have your back, even before you started sharing hotel room beds, but hearing the man in front of him whine in pain after you twisted his arm, the sound of at least one of fingers cracking at your strength as you pushed him to the floor… you definitely didn’t need him to have your back, you did it yourself pretty well. 
he’s surely proud, but what floods his mind really, what is now burnt to his brain, what has probably changed his whole body chemistry at his point is the way your body moved to do it, your pants clinging more to your thighs, your breasts moving with your fast heart rate, your open cleavage blouse doing nothing to help his train of thought, nor did the hint of a grin in your lips as the unsub succumbed to your grip, complaining about the pain you were so easily causing. 
focus on the job, focus on the case, he tried hard to while he passed his handcuffs to you, but fuck, how could he when you looked so unbelievebly sexy doing something he has seen so many people do before?
how many times has he licked his lips in the past 20 minutes? he has lost count, but is the only way he has to ignore the way his mouth is drying at how aroused he was about to be if he didn’t control himself. if he didn’t focus on anything else. 
a few meditating breaths and unpleasant thoughts did the work for him, getting his priority back on track: the case was still going as far as he was concerned. it wasn’t done until the bau got back to the hotel. 
his avoidance to you at the precinct, not even catching him glancing as you worked didn’t strike you as odd, you were used to him needing his space and completely unaware of his conscious effort not to think of you. 
it’s a happy surprise when you hear his well known knock on your door not even half an hour after arriving at the hotel, his lips gluing to yours immediately, his hands strong in their hold of your face as he kicks the door closed.
you grin into the kiss, not at all opposed to how famished he seems for you, even though you don’t understand where it came from you more than willingly follow his lead, reaching for his waist under his clothing. the cold of your fingers causes him to whine and you can’t help but take advantage of that to sink your teeth to his lower lip just the way you knew he liked it. 
aaron guides you to the bed, but unlike many times before where he would lay you down, his weight deliciously on top of you, he sits on the edge, the back of his knees touching the mattress, shoes kicked off just before. he pulls you to straddle him, his lips only leaving yours to touch the skin you had exposed: your neck, your cleavage. his hands making sure to sink you harsher on this lap anytime you stopped moving against him even if for a second, his fingers sinking on the flash of your hips. 
you have to ask, you have to know what’s gotten into him (so you might do it more in the future) and he stops his actions to stare at you, eyes dazed with lust, lips swollen from the way your mouth worked his, cheeks flushed pink like it always got when he was hot.
“do you not have any idea of how… alluring you looked today doing all that?” he’s breathless as he speaks, his tongue is back to your neck before you can reply or tease his choice of words. your head falls lightly behind as you try to contain at least some of your whimpers. hotch does no such effort, lucky his mouth is busy as you wet both of your pants with arousal, the feeling of his cock swelling up under you as addictive as ever. 
you pull him closer by his tie, your mouth brushing against his ear before you spoke just so you could feel the way your warm breath made him shiver. 
“all that what?” he doesn’t respond, busy taking your blouse along with your bra off, his sheer force able to break off the clasp without much effort. you force your body onto him, half for the so needed friction your nipples begged for, but mostly to get him to lay down on the bed. “all that what?” you repeat yourself, needing to hear him say it. your hands strongly keeping his on your waist and not an inch up. the sight of your bare tits alone enough to make him try to get more friction from you, unconsciously rutting up. 
“confidently taking a man down with your bare hands, maybe?” aaron’s reply pleases you and you let go of his hands, helping him take his dress shirt, his tie and the annoying white tank top keeping you away from scratching his stomach, “completely self-reliant, you really don’t need me at all, do you?” he says teasingly just as you gasp to the touch of his calloused fingers to your nipples, working both at the same time. 
you could honestly come just from that (and you have before, noticing how sensitive your nipples are has been a gift to him that kept on giving), but you wanted more. you palm him through his slacks, wet from his precum and your own fluids. “wouldn’t say that, i do need you to help me with these,” you point to the bothersome remnants of clothes in the way and he has the audacity to chuckle, as if he wasn’t as desperate as you. “because as soon as we are free of them, i can ride you the way you’re just begging me to.” aaron can’t keep his groans contained, your crude words going straight to his dick in a way only you were able to. it was a mess of fingers unbuttoning, unzipping and hands quickly working to get rid of the slacks and underwear restricting you both. 
he helps lining his cock to your entrance, but not before teasing pressing his tip to your clit, causing you both to moan, you’re as wet as you always are for him, sinking him into you all at once and the whimper leaving aaron’s mouth is just sinful, completely at your mercy. 
you set the pace and he lets you, one hand on your thigh, the other gripping one of your tits in a way he would leave not just marks, but a whole handprint. you loved it, your nails giving his chest crescent moon shaped marks and scratches all around his torso. 
“aaron–ple–put your fingers to work.” you skip the begging, the please, knowing that’s not what he wants today, you’re busy moaning his name as your pace goes to a faster rhythm to say much else, but he obeys, deliciously using one of his thumbs to draw circles over your clit, following your lead, moaning as you clenched around his dick, your wetness loud against his finger and his pelvis. 
you were about to come, the imminence of your orgasm making your toes curl, “fuck me, aaron, hard… and fast.” you manage to say, not wanting to slow down and knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep up. 
it’s like he’s been waiting for it, for your orders, and he turns you around, his weight over you as he follows your words. hard and fast. his own pleasure building up as you helped him prop on your legs up on his shoulder, you felt like you were melting under him, going between grabbing the sheets and his flesh as you squirmed for him. 
the noises are relentless at this point, and if the walls of the hotel are cheap everyone will be able to hear his name leaving your lips like a prayer, his whimpers getting stuck in his throat and the skin to skin slapping as aaron brought you both to orgasm, his cum going inside of you without a question, his forehead touching yours as he drops your leg and fucks deep and slow into you a few more times so you both enjoy the climax as long as possible. 
“fuck, i definitely need you for these as well.” your tone is full of tease, referring to the orgasms he gave you seemingly effortlessly. 
aaron hums, his eyes already closed the minute his body reaches the bed, pulling you to his chest. “then, i shall pretend you like me for more than my body and sleep here tonight.” he’s joking and would sleep cuddling you either way, so you don’t bother replying. 
but god, you love him. you love him. 
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fire-lizard-ro · 4 months
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Ohoho Sunday thoughts you say? >:D this is loosely based on the prior ask? But I was just thinking how Sunday would probably try (keyword try) to remain pure and abstain from s*x before marriage, yknow? But when he finally does have you as his own, all bets are off. Angel boi is horny and wants you :( in his mind: it’s pure and simple yet beautiful lovemaking between two souls :( and in my love deprived ass I would melt because I know he’d be big on giving and receiving praise fjgjgjgj even would enjoy the idea of extending the Family if you were down for it (whether or not you could, he enjoys the idea of it) ((also he likes control so))
And don’t get me staarttteddd on his sweet aftercare and pillow talk D: oml you’d quite literally be on cloud nine!! He is too tho :) and he cannot help himself from just being so sweet and genuine orz
ohhHHHHH- Y e s I like this quite a bit. Need this to take a break from the angst I’ve been cookin up with a certain someone (you know who you are OTL).
Fair warning y’all are gonna end up seeing me write a fic about him that is blatantly blasphemous with religious themes (pretends like I’m not already working on one like that with Argenti).
Anyways- Back to this.
Thank you so much for the ask~ I love Sunday so much. <333333
CW: possessive behavior, cumming inside, fluff!!! (crazy I know how very almost off brand of me-), maybe some blasphemous thoughts? (idk that they count with aeons but hey-), marking, breeding kink (he’s saying it regardless of whether you are able to have children or not bc regardless it’s h o t -), praise
Reader gender: gender neutral (I tried not to say anything that would be too telling about what sex the reader is so please read it as such! I don’t think I said anything that was like that-)
So going off the last ask, we’re going to assume that he likes you enough to feel great affection for you. Enough to want you. To feel his own carnal desires rear their head even before you’ve married. It manifests in his seemingly innocent yet wandering hands. A hand on your waist as he passes by you. His hands drifting dangerously low when you hug. Leaning in close to talk to you. Lips making their way down from your forehead to your cheek to the corner of your lips. The placement of his kiss making its way to your lips slowly with every goodbye kiss.
But at some point, he can’t really stop himself from at least using those pretty hands of his on you- Along with that silver tongue and sinful mouth. He’ll make you feel so incredibly good, plunging his long fingers into you and taking you into his mouth. He’s lick and suck at you and even slide his tongue inside you. Perhaps the taste of you would be enough to tide him over until you were properly his- Married to him. It would have to be enough because you deserved to have a perfect wedding and perfect wedding night.
But aeons that doesn’t stop him from pleasuring you with what he can before then in order to hopefully keep himself in line. Even as his cock aches with the need to have you, he’ll just hold you down and whisper sweet promises in your ear. Even if you beg him, he won’t. Just wait for him baby just a little longer-
But after the ceremony is over and the afterparty is done and the guests all leave-
Oh dear. You’re finally left alone with your hungry fian- husband. You’re finally left alone with your absolutely famished husband. And you’re on the menu.
It begins like how many of your other encounters of sexual nature begin.
Sweet kisses that make it seem like he wants to swallow you whole.  Gentle hands taking in the feel of you in his arms. Trailing kisses down your throat, eyes closed in ecstasy because you were finally his now. He can have you with no regrets. All that waiting was for this moment. When he could finally have you wholly. And that makes this moment in the warm light of the bedside lamp and the cooler shades of the moon all the sweeter.
Wetted fingers stretching you in preparation for something larger, taking their time in their task despite knowing you well by then. Because even if this was to get you ready to become one with him- He’s wants to draw as much pleasure from you as possible. This is a special night for the two of you. One he will cherish completely and one he wants to make perfect for you. His arm would be holding him up, cradled behind your head for you to lean on while he molds himself to your side. Even as you whine and roll your hips into the curl of his fingers inside you, pressing on that special spot inside you, he kisses your cheeks gently with soothing words. “Good… very good, my love. Just a little more- I want you to finish on my fingers first. Can you do that for me, my sweet? I know you can-”
Just as he gives you your first orgasm of the night, he takes your lips once more while gently coaxing your through the waves of pleasure. He’s so soft, guiding you through the dance even while your mind goes blank for a bit as he watches your expression. “That’s it. I’ve got you.”
It’s then that he kisses you almost chastely before beginning his journey down your body to have his prize. The prize being whatever he’s managed to pull from you. He’d lick it from your body in broad strokes as though he were tasting honey dribbled over your form, caressing your every curve as he went.
Sunday would dribble lube over himself, a hand slathering the viscous substance over his cock in pumping motions. It was almost erotic watching him. The way he'd squeeze just a little at the top and you would watch his hardness twitch and drool between his fingers. But when you look up, the angelic man would only be looking at you. Gazing lovingly- longingly at you.
That's how it always was. Ever since meeting, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off you. You were simply radiant to him. Unlike anything or anyone else he'd ever seen.
Leaning over you to settle himself between your legs, Sunday would give you another kiss before asking if you were ready. While waiting for your answer, he'd go back to nip and lick at your neck. He wanted to mark you for all to see- You were his. His lover, his spouse, his soulmate. His. No one else's. He would love and care for you in every way, he'd think to himself.
And no- Don't just nod at him. "I need to hear you say it, dove. Please? For me, my dear?" Once you'd given him your clear consent, he'd bring you into a deep kiss while lining himself up with your stretched out, wet entrance. He can't even bring himself to tease you a little. Though the thought crossed his mind, he knew he'd been waiting far too long for this.
Once he was in the proper place, he'd rest his forehead against yours, the two of you breathing in each other's air while he looks down at where the two of you would be connected, fingers drifting to fondle you in order to distract from any possible pain you may feel with a gentle hum.
As Sunday would finally push in, cockhead popping inside, he'd gasp against your lips with twitching hips he had to force still. "Are you alright, love?" Taking a moment for himself to regain his composure and steel himself, he'd hide away in the crook of your neck to breathe in your scent and feel your pulse beneath his soft lips. Once you were ready it would be but a slow rock of his hips, moving gently inside you, to eventually sheath himself completely inside. As he worked himself into your tightness, Sunday would whisper sweet words into your ears in a whisper, as though the words were only for the two of you despite no one else being around- The words would come in between kisses while he rubbed a hand up and down your side to comfort you, the hand occasionally straying to rub your sex or pluck at your nipples to distract you from the strain of this part of the night.
Once bottomed out, your ass resting in the cradle of his hips with his body covering yours, he would ask you if you're alright and give you time to adjust. It's all praises here, the man telling you just how good you are for him and saying that you're doing wonderfully. After some time passes and you rock your hips against his to test your comfort, a small moan would be startled out of him before it devolves into a chuckle. "Are you ready, my love?"
It'd start with hip just grinding into you, firm but slow and accompanied by a pleasured sigh from him. He'd hold back none of his sounds because he wanted you to know how good you made him feel. Then he'd pull out only just a bit before thrusting himself back in. At some point he had begun to properly fuck you, the push and pull like the rocking of a boat on a gentle sea. This was making love. And after angling his hips, he found your sweet spot he'd only ever touched with those pretty fingers of his.
It'd be a struggle to not lose himself in you. In your all-consuming presence and the pleasure you gave him- In the love you showed him as you reached up to bring him close with a whimper of his name. It was like hearing the gospel fall from your lips. And they might as well have been. For now you were his everything. His god, his true Harmony. Were you to say it, it would be so. And right now, you were telling him that it felt good and asking him to keep going. So, he would.
With teeth gently marking all the places he'd been, his darkened eyes would watch the way you arch your back and moan to the heavens (they were yours anyways). Sunday is something that knows how to hide its teeth and disguise itself in the form of a man. He was careful to dull his claws so he would not hurt you when he held you close. Careful to veil the violence that was part of him, showing in his eyes, when he was with you. But he was a beast who knew the taste of blood. And yet you, his pure and lovely dove, loved him and accepted him. You said he was a good man and that you loved him. You were his truth. So, it must be so.
He wanted to claim you so wholly that none could ever deny that you both belonged to one another. That none could mistake that you were his deity and him your humble and devout servant who worshiped you here in the temple of your bed, giving you his offerings in pleasure, loyalty, and love. That brought another idea to mind of just how he could claim you and show you his deepest love.
"I want to breed you, my love. To carry on the family and mark you inside with my cum. Would that be alright? Do you want that as well, dove?"
He would speed up now, thinking about how he could have a family with you. How lovely you would look with a child tottering around behind you. He would make it happen no matter what so long as you wanted it as well. When you agree, he'd smile so wide his face hurt and shower you with kisses. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, my love my heart my everything-"
He can hardly fathom how he'd lived without you before.
Touching and kissing you all over he drove the two of you to your peak, the both of you moaning and whining against each other's lips as you kissed through the high. His hips continued to rock into yours to prolong the waves of pleasure that washed over you before slowing to a stop when you both became overstimulated.
"Thank you, love. You did so well- So very good for me. I love you so much," he'd praise and declare between kisses that he planted all over- Everywhere he could reach while wrapped up in your arms and holding you so close you wondered if the two of you could fuse together. "I love you, too," you'd mumble against his lips as he came back to them for a proper kiss. The chaste peck turning into a sensuous slide of lips, unhurried and full of undeniable love.
Even when he withdrew from your now cum-filled hole and began to clean you up, he would praise you and ask you how you felt while pressing kisses every place he touched. Once everything was done and he'd had you drink water, he'd lay down and pull you to lay on his chest. While stroking your back and pressing a kiss to your hair, he'd bid you goodnight and say yet another "I love you" before quietly humming to help you drift asleep.
Hopefully that was to your liking~ I had fun writing it! Thank you for the idea and for letting me write more about Sunday! <333
Feel free to send in another request if you want, hehe.
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s3thwrit3sstuff · 5 months
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The gojo/m!reader fic is just *chef’s kiss* I fucking love your writing. I know you just posted part 3 and I don’t want to be greedy but can we expect a part 4? 👁️
Lawd, don’t tempt me, nonnie! I have so many headcanons and ideas that I wanted to include but they did not feel relevant to the plot. 😭 Okay - not making any promises! We’ll see how it goes because I have some other fics lined up first! ( ´Д`)y━・~~
Below is the original ending of the fic as a treat! I didn’t write it out originally because I dislike reader-insert endings with a definitive end, I like giving room for the reader to be able to create infinite scenarios with the plot provided (`_´)ゞ
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alternate ending, angst with comfort | not proofread! | wc: 1.5 k
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“You gave him a run for your money, huh? I told him it was a cruel idea.”
Air does not inflate your lungs but you inhale anyway, if only to feel your chest rise and fall. He reaches his hand out, and that onyx gaze makes your vision blurry.
“S’guru...?”
Clasping at your cheeks, you try to grasp the reality before you. Nails scratching at your skin as you cast your gaze downwards to your lap. The familiar colour of deep navy blue causes more tears to fall.
“What?” Those vortex-patterned buttons shimmer under the warm lights and Suguru’s hands invade your vision as he gently circles his fingers around your wrist.
“(Y/N), it’s alright. Everything is alright now.” His voice felt like honey, just like before. He’s not decayed or pale or rotten. Suguru is wearing his uniform - like before. Before the Star Plasma incident, before his betrayal, before his death, before your resentment contorted your memory of him into a grotesque spirit.
“You gave it your all. You can rest now.”
The sight past his shoulders is bright and cloudless. The silver beams that hold the glass together meld up and up and up into the roof. The floors are glistening, with not one footprint or stain and the pops of green from the potted plants and the distant forests beyond the glass make your shoulders droop.
“...Where...”
He squeezes your wrist and stands, you have no choice but to do the same.
When you do, he wraps his arms around you. A tight, comforting, squeeze that makes your arms hang awkwardly out with twitching fingers. Your clothes spill from between his hold and you can feel the fine hairs on his cheeks.
“You had every right to hate me, (Y/N). It wasn’t your fault. I don’t hate you, I swear I don’t.”
Tears stream down your face. They feel so cooling, unlike the usual burning that follows.
“I missed you, (Y/N).”
“Suguru...”
“I missed you too. Suguru.”
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“(Y/N). Where is he?”
Silence befalls the room. His eyes search and pane from every face to every molecule in the air. As terrifying a thought as it is, Satoru’s six eyes hover unseen over his shoulders. Each pupil looks this way or that way. Some have more than one, long downward-facing lashes fluttering as it darts and consumes the sights before it.
They’re hungrier now. Famished from the timeless chamber that was the Prison Realm.
They’re hungry to lay themselves on you.
Drink in your beauty once more. Drown in your presence and weep when you meet their gaze.
You are not here.
The silence is too familiar.
Satoru feels his chest tighten.
“Mr Gojo,” Yuji steps forward and Shoko purses her lips so Satoru steels his expression. Yuji will tell him you are dead, he will tell him how you perished and if Satoru is lucky (which he hasn’t felt lucky in a long time) Yuji will tell him your body was here.
But Yuji says nothing.
He extends his hand after fishing something out of his pocket and Satoru feels a familiar weight in his palm.
It’s your wedding ring.
The other half to his own that he wore.
He thought you’d melted it down. He’d never seen you wear it after that night.
Were you sentimental too?
Satoru recalls the old books your mother had that left holes in his bookshelves - tracks of their departure shredding through the dust like a stampede of hooves. The drawings that were made in crayon and pens and paint by your children, lining the hallways of home or the fridge (”like the Americans do,” you joked). There were even documents you kept, receipts, of things that held no more value.
You were full of memories just like he was.
He stared at the ring. Delicate, detailed and forlorn without its user.
“He told me he had a plan,” Yuji’s fist shake as he speaks.
“Mr (Y/N) said he’d be alright. He told me to trust him and that everything would be okay. He just told me to get as many comrades out of the area so I did. He - He slipped the ring in my pocket and I didn’t notice.”
You’d been revealed by Sukuna, grasped by the back of your head like a toy. You were decorated like one. Those heavy, patterned, robes and styled hair and painted face. Even with pain contorting your expression you looked as pretty as a doll.
“Lovely sight, isn’t it, my concubine?” Sukuna croons. “You’ve made such an array of allies in my absence. Uruame tells me you’ve even mauled your father, how terrifying.”
Uruame, that bastard. The girl - no. The person that’d been bowing and showing you that horrid swirl pattern on their head - they’d been keeping an eye on you. Ever since you were a child, they’d kept track. To prepare you for Sukuna? Or just to make sure their master's return was celebrated with a feast to please his every desire?
His grip tightens and your yell makes Yuji’s anger simmer under his skin.
‘ I’ll leave the rest to you. ‘ Nanami had told him.
“Sukuna,” he growls out.
The King of Curses, with those lovely eyes Yuji cherished so dearly, smiled like a mad man.
“Oi, brat. Shall I show you how deeper into despair I can take you?”
“Sukuna told Mr (Y/N) to kill us or he’d do it himself. Neither of us expected him to,” Yuji trails off, his nails digging crescent moon shapes into his palms. It’s Yuta who finishes the sentence for him;
“He used Divine Flame to its greatest height. As a way to stop Sukuna from chasing after us and as a way to weaken him.”
“...He had sacrificed himself, is that what you’re saying?” Satoru watches Yuta nod and as Yuji sullenly does the same, Choso comes to his side.
“His flames are still burning. They’re fading but, he did weaken Sukuna considerably,” Shoko says. Satoru knows she’s just taking her time to tell him there is no corpse to be buried. You were gone in the wind and once the remnants of your cursed energy faded there’d be nothing left of you but memories and things; they’d collect dust and grief but none would satisfy Satoru.
He doesn’t mind the way they look at him as he unclasps the silver necklace around his neck to slip your ring. It joins Suguru’s button and he finds himself unable to curse the Gods.
Instead, Satoru closes his eyes to pray.
‘ Watch over me, ‘ he pleads.
It lasts no more than a second. His eyes open but they find themselves searching for hair that shines like vinyl and (E/C) coloured eyes that make heaven weep despite what he’s learned.
The best thing he can hope to do now is free Megumi and Tsumiki of their ailments. Then, then...he’ll bury them.
He’ll bury his family.
“Nanami. Is there a body?”
The furrowing of Yuji’s brows make Satoru’s cheek twitch.
“We’ll bury their things then. Side by side.”
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There’s a familiar presence next to him. His scent wafted up Satoru’s nose in a way that made his eyes water. He knows him by the way he breathes, the way he walks, the sound of his hair being tied into a bun.
Suguru is beside him.
He doesn’t know how it’s possible that they’re together once again but a quick glance around and he’s quick to figure it out.
Ah.
He wanted to win so badly.
They talk. They talk like nothing has happened. As if the years were mere footnotes in their story like friends reuniting again after some distance.
Behind him, Yū and Kento are sat. They tease and jest. He yells at Principal Yaga about dying with regret, he sees Riko and Misato talking to each other in their own corner of rhe world.
Kento huffs, Kento smiles.
“If you stop flitting your eyes so wildly you’ll find him, Gojo.” Suguru and Yū chuckle at Satoru’s expression. Kento twists his upper half and points to the windows.
“That woman...” Satoru’s eyes widen.
It’s unmistakably your mother. Her hair, her skin, her posture - youthful and healthy. He sees tiny hands clutching to her shoulder, a head of (H/C) peeking from over it and then your eyes blinking sheepishly up at her.
You’re in your mother's arms, a boy once again as she cradles you close to her.
When your eyes meet him, he sees the bashful way they avert themselves and your mother chuckles as she smooths out your hair. Kento hums and Yū tells him to stand, so Kento does.
Your mother’s smile is as warm as it's always been. Puts the damn sun to shame, really. She presses a kiss to your head then sets you down and with inward facing steps, you walk towards Kento.
With each step, you grow and grow and Satoru thinks of how nice it was that you’re spending your youth with Kento for an eternity now.
Because as you stand in front of Kento in your school uniform, with the bright smile you had in those old photographs, he feels his heart soar. The rings clink softly against each other as he leans back and wraps an arm around Suguru’s shoulder.
Your arms wrap around Kento’s neck and he wraps them around your waist.
“I hope you did not wait long, Ken.” He squeezes you tightly and sighs, “I would wait an eternity for you, my love.”
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weemssapphic · 6 months
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resplendent
Larissa Weems x f!reader
Another little Kinktober fic! 🩸
Words: ~ 2.2k | ao3 link in title
Content/warnings: vampire!reader, nsfw (smut - minors DNI), period sex, cunnilingus, marking
A/N: I swear to god I received a request for vampire!reader eating Larissa out while she's on her period and I thought it would fit well for Kinktober BUT I CAN'T FIND IT ANYMORE fhughdksghfduk. so anyway. here it is. :) *runs away and hides*
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“Gods, my love, you smell divine,” you purr seductively into Larissa’s ear, standing behind her as you pull her flush against you, your hand resting on her lower abdomen. 
Larissa is on her period and, as always during this time of the month, you can’t seem to keep your hands off of her. Your heightened sense of smell is driving you wild - blood is a natural aphrodisiac for you, your entire body prickling with an almost unbearable heat whenever you’re in the same room as your girlfriend while she’s on her period.
Larissa allows herself to lean back fully against you, sighing deeply as her eyes flutter shut. She pushes her lower belly into your hand and squirms slightly, placing her own hands over yours and applying a light pressure.
“Cramps?” you guess, pressing featherlight kisses to your lover’s neck - she tilts her head to the side to grant you better access and her pulse picks up almost imperceptibly. It drives you insane and you can feel your fangs slowly extend, drool beginning to pool in your mouth.
Platinum curls tickle your collarbone as Larissa nods, a frustrated huff leaving her lips. She pulls away from you and goes to sit on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs tightly together - as if that would somehow stop the scent of her blood from permeating the room.
“I’m sorry, I know this time of the month is hard for you,” she says, and it breaks your heart a little - you want to provide her comfort, you really do, but the mere scent of her makes you feel absolutely famished. You’ve only had human blood a handful of times in your life, usually going for animal blood, just like many of your peers. And, usually, people being on their period around you isn’t a big issue - you’ve trained yourself to be able to ignore the scent, and you always have an emergency supply of blood on you.
But when it’s the blood of your soulmate? The pull is almost too much to bear.
“I could give you a massage,” you suggest, trying to keep your voice level. Larissa’s gaze snaps up to meet yours, her bright sapphire eyes wider than you’ve ever seen them.
“Are you sure?”
You offer her a confident smile and stride up to the edge of the bed. “Lay back,” you instruct, and Larissa does as she’s told, settling back against the pillows and watching you curiously. She’s already dressed for sleep, wearing a deep crimson, silk pajama set, and you push her shirt up a bit to reveal her belly. Your fingers curl under the waistband of her pants, folding them down a bit to provide you better access to the area as you kneel between her thighs.
Her skin is smooth and soft underneath your hands, her abdomen bloated just a tiny bit, and you press your fingers into the tender flesh. Larissa lets out a soft groan and closes her eyes, squirming a little against your hands as they start to knead softly into her.
“Does that feel good?” you husk, your breathing growing more ragged by the second as Larissa starts to let out soft, barely audible noises of pleasure.
“Mmh… yes, thank you.” She pushes herself up into your hands and wiggles her hips - the action sends a fresh wave of her scent into the room and you feel your belly fill with heat as your cunt clenches around nothing.
“Larissa?” you ask suddenly, hating how breathless you sound. She opens her eyes - her pupils are slightly dilated and you bite back a groan. “Can I try something?”
Larissa’s cheeks turn pink - she’s pretty sure she knows what you’re about to ask. You’ve never made a secret of your intense desire for her during this time of the month, but she’s never suggested making love during her period before, so you figured she didn’t want to. But now, with the way her cheeks are flushing and her legs are gently - eagerly - parting for you, you’re starting to wonder why you hadn’t asked sooner.
“Tell me what you want to try,” she whispers, her voice hoarse with desire.
“I want to taste you.”
Brilliant white teeth sink into plush pink lips as Larissa moans, muffling the noise. “Please,” she murmurs, wiggling her hips again.
She watches you through heavy-lidded eyes as you crawl up her body, hovering over her as your fingers begin to undo the buttons of her shirt, then push it over her shoulders and discard it in a heap next to the bed. Your lips immediately find her collarbone, fangs grazing her skin as you kiss down the valley of her breasts, and you pepper the soft mounds of flesh with tiny bite marks, careful not to draw blood - you’ll have your share in a minute. Your lover is so sensitive around this time of the month, and each little nip and kiss draws a sinful noise from her throat as she arches her back off the bed in an attempt to get closer. 
Latching onto a rosy nipple, you begin to flick your tongue over the pert bud, licking and sucking until it has been tugged into a hard peak. You swirl your tongue in slow, sensual circles, tracing your hands possessively over Larissa’s swollen belly and reveling in the deep, raspy groans that your ministrations pull from her chest. You repeat the action on the other side, until both of her nipples are hard and glistening with your saliva, and Larissa’s own hand is sliding up her body to fondle her breast - anything for more stimulation.
Your lips begin to trail lower, marking her stomach in hues of red and purple until you reach the waistband of her pants. A smirk grows on your face as Larissa cants her hips upwards in anticipation, and you waste no time in dragging her pants down her legs, taking her underwear right with them and placing them aside - planting kisses down the length of her legs as you go.
The sight before you instantly makes you heady, borderline delirious - Larissa’s perfect little cunt, glistening not with her usual arousal but with blood. Deep red, wet, catching the light as it drips slowly out of her. Resplendent. 
The scent alone, this close and without the usual barriers of clothing or sanitary products, fills your nostrils like perfume - musky, metallic, heavy, divine. You let out a shuddering breath as you hook Larissa’s thighs over your shoulders - her folds spread open at the action and a bit of blood drips down onto the sheets beneath you.
The sheets… Larissa will be upset about those, but right now you don’t care - your mind is growing hazy and you couldn’t back out now if you tried. Licking your lips in anticipation, you lean in and run your tongue up Larissa’s slit. The moment you taste that first drop of blood, you feel your limbs begin to tingle, a deep, wanton groan clawing its way from your throat.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” you moan, flattening your tongue against Larissa’s cunt, exploring her folds and licking up every drop of blood she has to offer. You feel her hands settle on the back of your head and curl into your hair, pushing your face as close as possible to her core. “Does that feel good?”
Larissa whines, her fingers winding themselves even tighter in your hair, and you chuckle in response. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Another drawn out whine escapes her lips and you glance up just in time to see Larissa’s eyelids flutter shut, her brow creasing and her lips parting. You begin to lap at Larissa’s folds, the taste and the scent making your own clit throb. You almost feel satiated - like you’re having the best meal of your life - and yet you need more.
“Does this turn you on? Knowing I get to taste you like this?”
Larissa lets out a groan, rolling her hips and arching her back off the bed.
“Answer me, love.”
“Y- mmh - y-yes.” Larissa’s voice is much breathier than usual - you glance up again and smirk when you see her rolling her own nipple between her fingers, when you see her belly ripple as she writhes against the mattress.
“You’re so sensitive,” you whisper as you flick your tongue over Larissa’s clit - she moans and grinds her hips into your mouth, and you feel her blood smear across your chin. You must be covered now, the lower half of your face red and wet. “Look at me.”
She does, her pupils dilated with lust and her cheeks flushed. Her eyelids flutter - they look heavy, as though it’s taking all her strength to keep them open - particularly when you choose that moment to wrap your lips around her throbbing clit and suck. She draws in a sharp breath and her tongue darts out to wet her lips as her hips roll erratically against your face.
The noises she lets out are becoming more and more lewd as your tongue draws hard, fast circles around her sensitive bundle of nerves. You feel she may be close to coming undone completely - and you are, too. The tangy, metallic flavor of her heat is like nothing you’ve ever tasted - in combination with the musky, womanly scent that fills your nostrils, it causes the coil in your belly to tighten.
The pull is too difficult to resist - your tongue trails from Larissa’s cunt to her inner thighs and you nose the area. Her skin is warm and soft and a little sweaty, and you lick your lips before pressing them firmly to her tender flesh. Your fangs are extended and you graze them over the skin, drawing a whimper from your lover - when you glance up, you see her fist desperately at the sheets beneath her.
“Darling…” Her voice comes out a breathy whisper - it makes your entire body prickle with warmth.
“Shh,” you whisper, before sinking your fangs slowly into her skin. She draws in a sharp breath, her leg twitching, and you immediately flatten your tongue and soothe it over the puncture wounds, swallowing the drops of blood that have surfaced. Another gasp escapes Larissa’s mouth and she brings her hands to your hair, holding you firmly in place against her thigh.
“Such a good girl,” you murmur as you suck the remaining blood from the wounds, the taste like a drug to you.
“P-please…” Larissa squirms and you take pity on her, kissing your way across her skin back to her clit and circling the throbbing bud with your tongue. She bucks her hips into your mouth, her fingers twisting in your hair, her nails scratching your scalp.
Larissa’s thighs tremble around your head and she can no longer keep her eyes open - she drops her head back against the pillow, her chest heaving as she squeezes her eyes shut. Her jaw goes slack and her face contorts in ecstasy as pleasure washes over her. You place a warm hand over her belly as you lap at her folds, feeling her stomach muscles contract as she rides out her high.
When Larissa finally relaxes back against the covers, you pull away, the lower half of your face coated in a mixture of her arousal and her blood. She’s breathing heavily, her hands caressing her own body as she attempts to come back down to earth, and you crawl up to meet her. Her eyes widen as she takes in the messy sight before her.
“I’m sor-”
“Kiss me,” you command, and before Larissa can process your request, you crash your lips into hers. She lets out a surprised squeak, then a deep groan as your tongue slips into her mouth and twirls against her own. At first, you aren’t sure if she’s disgusted at the taste of her own blood, but then she wraps her arms around your neck and pulls you flush against her, deepening the kiss and letting out a pleased hum.
“How do you feel now?” you mumble against her lips as you part for air. You have to bite back a groan as you look down at her - she looks divine, the blood from your mouth having smeared across her chin and nose - it stokes your appetite all over again.
Larissa’s cheeks turn pink and she bats her eyelashes, her lips curling into a shy smile. “Sated.”
It’s a sentiment you agree with - you feel as though a thirst you’ve had your entire life has suddenly been quenched. You ask Larissa to wait right there for you as you draw a bath for the two of you, then come to get her and help her into the water. She leans back into you, tilting her neck to the side and allowing you to litter her skin in faint bruises and shallow puncture marks as her eyelids grow heavy with sleep. You know that eventually the water will grow cold and you’ll have to wake her and coax her to bed - but for now, you’re content to simply love on her and admire the soft smile on her lips as she relaxes into you. Your lover. Your everything.
x
Taglist: @alexusonfire @brienneswife @rosieathena @pro-weems-places @bigolgay @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles @bychrissi @katie-bennet @giogwensversion @gela123 @friskyfisher @justcallmelittleone @michi2504 @scream-queenlover @a-queen-and-her-throne @sequoirius @anne-lister @winterfireblond @imgayforwoman69  @Ssappling2004 @fictionalized-lesbian @i-like-reading @aemilia19 @milfsloverblog @missdowling @billiedeansbitch
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moraxsthrone · 9 months
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⊹✧˚。⋆ title — sir kaeya
⊹✧˚。⋆ pairing — k. alberich x f!reader
⊹✧˚。⋆ wc — 5.7k
⊹✧˚。⋆ cw/an — nsfw. mdni. alcohol consumption (duh it's kaeya). kaeya being a bit of a tease (duh it's kaeya). oral (m & f rcv'ing). snowballing (how fitting). clit slapping. this fic sprang forth from the very first genshin thing i ever wrote (the scene at angel's share) so it's really special to me. kaeya was my first genshin love and will always be my favorite. 💜
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surprising as it would be to most, you’d never been to mondstadt before this week’s multi-regional summit. as a diplomatic representative of your region, many would guess that you’d been all over teyvat. but you’ve only held your current office for a little less than a year, and although you did your best to absorb as much information and knowledge as possible from your predecessor, it’ll take a lot more time and experience than what you have so far to be as efficient as they had been. so, for now at least, the job keeps you busy - too busy to travel for pleasure.
so when the final meeting of the last day gets canceled, rather than go home early you take the opportunity to do some much-anticipated exploring of the city of wind and its culture. 
“i’m famished! pray tell, sir kaeya, where would you recommend we go to enjoy the most authentic dishes of mondstadt?”
kaeya alberich, cavalry captain of the knights of favonius, has been charged with keeping you safe. as your security detail, he accompanies you almost everywhere you go - keeping a low profile during policy meetings - blending in with the background while also being close enough to stand between you and any potential threat or danger.
“we?” he asks, looking slightly confused. “will someone else be joining you?”
“if you’ll be so inclined…” you say before biting your lip and looking away shyly.
“me?”
you’d have to be blind not to have noticed his striking good looks the moment you were introduced to him on the first day, and it certainly wouldn’t hurt your feelings one bit to allow the captain to keep you company. likewise but unbeknownst to you, the gorgeous knight has stolen a few glances of you when you’ve been too busy to notice. he has especially enjoyed your pretty smile and the sway of your hips when you walk. more than once he’s allowed his gaze to linger on your curves perhaps a little too long.
“but of course! i don’t want to eat at a restaurant alone while you just stand there and watch. can you think of anything more depressing?” you joke.
“you make a valid point,” he says with a quiet laugh. “very well. allow me to treat you to good hunter. you’d be hard pressed to find a more impressive menu! miss sara makes a mean sticky honey roast - i can’t recommend it enough!”
as the two of you dine together, you enjoy easy conversation, becoming better acquainted with one another. when kaeya introduces you to miss sara, she goes out of her way to prepare for you a sampler of sorts, citing it as the perfect solution to your conundrum of deciding what to order because everything looks so tasty. she also insists that your bill is on the house, refusing to take any mora you offer, but you leave behind a handsome tip anyway. if nothing else, you want miss sara to have it as thanks for her warm and welcoming hospitality.
“what would you like to do next, m’lady?” kaeya asks, walking alongside you towards the city’s center.
you should be used to this title by now, but something about the way the cavalry captain looks at you when he says it sends a small rush of heat to your cheeks.
“oh, i don’t know. why don’t you surprise me?” you say, flashing him a coy smile, which he finds irresistibly adorable.
he takes you to marjorie’s souvenir shop before leading the way to the anemo archon statue in front of the cathedral. from there, the two of you take a stroll outside the city walls, engaging in playful banter along the way. your personalities blend well - he’s pleasantly surprised at your ability to keep up with his wit, and his charm wins you over with ease. by the time the sun is setting over the edge of the western horizon, your conversation is flowing effortlessly. the two of you haven’t been able to shut up for hours when you ask him,
“so where’s the best place to get a drink in this town?”
the knight’s smirk spreads into a full smile as he hums. “i know just the place.” 
⊹✧˚。⋆
the tavern is packed, and you’re inclined to believe kaeya’s got that pirate blood he claims to have since he’s standing on one of the big wooden tables, surrounded by other rambunctious patrons of angel’s share, singing along with the bard’s songs about legends of sea and treasure. their energy is contagious (obnoxious if you ask diluc who just rolls his eyes and shakes his head from behind the bar). 
you’re right there with them, clapping and laughing when kaeya reaches out, takes your hand, and pulls you up onto the table with him. neither of you are sure if the visible heat on the apples of your cheeks is because of the alcohol or because of the sudden proximity of your bodies. with an arm around your waist he pulls you right up against his side and wow! he’s more powerful than he looks. the song is about finding love on the run and kaeya is acting out the lyrics with you, embarrassing you to no end but you’re having too much fun to ask him to stop, so you just go with it. 
the song’s story ends with a kiss and you think you might just die when kaeya’s arm flexes against the small of your back, fastening your hip to his thigh. he brings his lips right up to yours, but they don’t quite touch. your eyes go wide as you stare into his periwinkle orb that sparkles with mischief. he practically whispers the last line of the song, his dandelion wine breath wisping over your lips. 
the cheering of the men around you grows distant, drowned out by the blood rushing through your ears. 
kaeya’s heart pounds against the palm of your hand resting on his chest.
you watch with bated breath as his ice-blue eye darkens with his diamond pupil. he shifts his weight and your knees feel like jelly when his lips but graze yours before he smiles and pulls away with a laugh. 
raising his cup, he cheers along with the surrounding audience before hopping off the table. setting his drink down, he reaches for you again, this time to help you off the table. you accept, and he pulls you closer before his deft hands clasp your waist, lowering your feet to the floor. 
a tease that kaeya alberich, you think, but a chivalrous one. 
while you find yourself mingling with other patrons it seems kaeya never lets you out of his sight. he’s never too far away, engaged in his own conversations with some of the other locals when you look over to find him looking at you over the rim of his wine glass. 
when one of the gentlemen offers to buy you a drink, kaeya seems to appear out of nowhere and places a hand on your lower back. 
“oh, that won’t be necessary,” the knight interjects, voice filled with cool honey. “all her drinks are on the knights of favonius this evening, but a kind gesture, i’m sure.” 
“why, sir kaeya, if i didn’t know any better i would think you’re trying to keep me all to yourself tonight,” you say with a teasing lilt.
his lips part as a slight blush appears on his cheeks, but he quickly recovers. “just performing my knightly duties to keep you safe, m’lady.” 
when you’re ready to go, kaeya’s having such a good time that you don’t want to end his night. so you make your way to the bar to pay your tab, only to be told that your drinks have been bought and paid for already (oh, he wasn’t lying).
you wander out into the cool night, the sound of the crowd and the smell of booze muffled behind the thick wooden door. no longer had it shut behind you than you feel your back being pressed against the tavern’s exterior wall. you gasp, only to breathe easy when you find yourself pressed between the wall and your now-tipsy chaperone.
“thought you could get away so easily, hm?”
your eyes are glued to his smirk. those lips that promised to kiss you earlier won’t soon leave your mind.
you laugh breathily while giving his chest a gentle push. “i didn’t want to put a damper on your fun.”
“who said my fun is over for the night?” no sooner than the words leave his lips, his eye widens as he quickly realizes how inappropriate it was to say that. “oh dear, it seems i’ve forgotten my manners. please accept my apology, m’lady…”
his panicked attempt at clarification is interrupted by your laughter. “relax, sir kaeya. i won’t hold it against you.” 
he really wishes you’d stop calling him that. it makes his dick twitch every time and you both know his pants will leave little to the imagination if he gets a hard-on.
he stumbles walks you back to the goth grand hotel, removing his cloak along the way and draping it over your shoulders when he notices you shivering in the cool night breeze. when you reach your door, he lingers as you unlock it with the intention of ensuring you make it inside safely. the bolt unlatches and you turn to face your chaperone again. 
he’s looking down at you and opens his mouth to bid you good night when you pull him in by his shirt and kiss him. it’s a huge risk, one you never would’ve taken were it not for the liquid courage coursing through your veins. maybe he isn’t really interested in you and that’s the reason he didn’t kiss you earlier.
much to your relief, he kisses you back. passionately. 
his warm tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you eagerly chase it with your own. you slide your fingers inside the opening of his shirt, balling it in your fist to lure him inside. his chuckle is low and breathy when he smiles against your lips which never leave his as you slam the door with your foot and push his back against the nearest wall.
“hahh…who knew you could be so forceful, m’lady?” he pants.
“sorry, but…” you say between kisses, carding your fingers through his soft hair, “...you teased me earlier and…” another kiss, “...i really wanted that kiss,” you finish with a whine.
“well, why didn’t you just say so, hm?” kaeya says, sucking on your lower lip with a hum.
his thumbs slide under your top, massaging little circles into your skin. there’s not a hint of humor in his voice when he rolls his forehead against yours and rasps, “i’ve been wanting to kiss you until you can’t breathe anymore…”
in one swift motion, kaeya spins you around effortlessly until your back hits the wall, his cloak falling off your shoulders as he catches your gasp in his open mouth, making it clear to you that he’s the one in control now. his fingertips dig into your lower back and pull your hips from the wall, forcing them to collide with his so you can feel what you’re doing to him. you let out a quiet moan at the feeling of his semi pressing against your thigh. his lips leave yours to venture along your jaw before trailing down the column of your neck, his blue hair fluttering in your breath and filling your senses with the cool, clean scent of his cologne.
you reach down and fumble with kaeya’s belt, swearing at it under your breath when it doesn’t cooperate. with one hand and a couple flicks of his fingers, it hits the floor with a clamor of leather and metal. you have much better luck with the fastenings of his pants, his lips returning to yours with a shuddering breath just as you free his cock and start stroking his wide shaft, so hot and hard.
he quickly pulls his gloves off and hikes your skirt up to your hips, exposing your creamy thighs.
“so warm…” kaeya whispers, raking his long, slender fingers along your skin until he reaches your apex. “n' so wet…”
“hhhgods fuck…” the words leave you in a huff, making him groan when you rub your thumb over his slit to collect his slick bead of pre. “f-hnn-fuck me, kaeya~”
with your blessing, he wastes no time pulling his now fully hard cock out of your hand in favor of grabbing the backs of your thighs and picking you up. you lock your ankles behind him with a whimper, the back of your head rolling against the wall when the underside of his dick glides over your dripping pussy lips through your damp panties. kaeya’s got two handfuls of your ass, his deft fingers curling and pulling your underwear to the side to let his leaking cockhead seek your naked opening. he begins to push himself inside, dropping his forehead to your shoulder with a long groan as his tip pops through your tight ring. 
you cry out, one of your hands flying to the wall behind you as you loop an arm around his neck for stability. kaeya spreads his legs a little further apart for leverage as he sinks a little deeper inside you, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. before he’s even fully sheathed inside you, he retreats just to push in again and starts fucking you, slow and shallow. he’s barely halfway in and you already feel so full, the thick vein on top of his shaft rolling under his skin as he pushes and pulls at your slick, gummy walls.
“so tight~” he breathes, open lips ghosting across your face as he goes for your lips again. “are you okay?”
all you can do is dumbly nod as your eyes roll back behind fluttering eyelids and a huff of a laugh bubbles from his smile. “feels so good…so good to me, kaeya~” 
you’re practically singing for him already and he hasn’t even bottomed out yet. it would probably go to his head were it not for the fact that he’s too far gone from the wet heat of your pussy sucking him so hard, the lip of your ring catching on the head of his cock with every draw of his hips, driving him too crazy for his ego to remain intact anymore. 
your elegant neck is exposed to him, letting his open lips drag along your moistening skin as your back moves up and down the wall with his thrusts. kaeya’s long, slender fingers grab your jaw and pull your lips to his. you’re so nice and wet for him that your need is spreading to his hips and balls. the sound of his thighs hitting yours when you finally take him all the way goes straight to your head. it’s one thing to feel kaeya fucking you, but hearing him fuck you - moist slaps of skin, his quickened breaths and quiet groans so close to your ear - it’s driving you out of your mind.
the cryo wielder pulls you away from the wall, your hot tongues swirling as he carries you to bed. his fingers squeeze the plush of your ass, guiding you along his throbbing shaft as he goes. kaeya lays you down before reaching behind his back to unlock your ankles and spread you open for him. 
he pulls out and stands up, looking down at you and letting out a breathy chuckle when you whine a little at the loss of his girth. but the view is delicious so you don’t complain. his rigid cock is thick with a large vein running his length and an angry, almost purple cockhead that’s dripping with fresh precum. his tan shaft glistens, wet with your slick. it bounces under its own weight as he kicks his boots off and pushes his pants down. 
you both watch the other undress with urgency; he makes quick work of his shirt as you shimmy out of your skirt. save for the battle scars, his lithe body is flawless - tall with long, lean muscles. seeing him like this makes you bite your lip and rub your thighs together.
kaeya’s lips curve into a small smile as he crawls towards you on the bed, his hands gently caressing the tops of your thighs as he kneels between them. he leans down to kiss your cheek, his long rat tail licking your breasts. “you are so fucking beautiful,” he says, barely above a whisper. “i've been dying to taste you…”
a sigh leaves your lips as he makes his way down your body, kissing and licking, sucking and nipping in all the right places. his breath feels so warm against your skin, save for the few times he purses his lips to blow cool air on the spots he just licked. he swirls his tongue around one of your nipples, only to replace it with his cool fingers while he gives the other the same treatment. the juxtaposition of warm and cool makes you arch off the bed, moaning when your clit brushes against his naked belly. 
gradually, kaeya makes his way further down, ghosting kisses along your bikini lines as his hands spread your thighs open just a little more for him. he watches your dewy petals unfold for him, exposing the hard little bud they’ve been hiding. “fuck…” he mutters, “...such a pretty pussy…”
“kaey-” you start, but your voice is cut off by a gasp when his warm tongue swipes swiftly along your slit. a single periwinkle eye stares up at you as he flicks the tip of his wet muscle over your clit, soft and light as a feather. he’s teasing you. you can see the mischievous glint in his eye as he dips his tongue into your hole. finally, his lips latch onto your needy clit, making your hips leave the bed when you thrust into his mouth. 
his taste buds rub your tiny erection, your flavor making him moan as he sucks you harder. one of his hands finds yours, your fingers interlocking while his other hand grabs and kneads at your heaving breasts, your soft tummy, and the plush of your thigh. 
he pops off you, drool and slick coating his chin. “your flavor…fucking delectable~” he breathes before diving back in.
he nearly sends you over the edge when he pushes two of his long fingers inside your clenching cunt, curling them to find that unmistakable rough spot within. your walls squelch helplessly around him as he finger-fucks you. your free hand grabs and pulls mindlessly at his hair, hips rocking to fuck his pretty face as he gives you the head of your life.
“ohh~ kaeya~” 
the searing coil that’s been spooling deep in your belly is getting impossibly tighter and when the cavalry captain hums on your clit, the vibrations send you. you cry out for him, back arching, walls clenching around his curled fingers. he pins you to the bed with his free arm and moans, a wet spot forming where more of his pre leaks out of his throbbing cock when your fists tighten around his cerulean locks. you cum for him, thighs clamping around his head while his tongue pulses over your clit until you’re fully spent.
kaeya situates his hips between your legs, wiping your spilled essence from his flushed face with a breathy chuckle before pressing the underside of his cock between your slippery folds. you taste yourself on his tongue when he kisses you, and he relishes your gasp when his swollen cockhead catches on your overstimmed clit. 
grinning against your lips, he says, “oh? feeling a little sensitive, hm? perhaps you’re not quite ready to take my cock again so soon…” he teases, pulling away but you squeeze your thighs around his hips, impeding his escape and making him laugh.
“i can take a lot more than you think, sir kaeya…” you purr, twirling a strand of his blue hair around your finger.
there’s that glint in his eye again when he licks his smirking lips. “is that so, m’lady?” he croons, reaching between your bodies to grab the base of his cock. biting his lower lip and holding your gaze steady the cryo user slaps the head of his cock hard against your clit, swallowing your cry at the sharp pressure. “fuck,” he groans. “you make the prettiest sounds for me…”
“so mean,” you whine, digging your nails into his biceps when he pushes his blunt tip inside you.
he drops his mouth to your ear as he slowly spreads you open around his girth, whispering, “...and you love it.” 
his sultry voice shoots down your spine straight to your core, making him moan deliciously when your weeping walls clamp down on him. kaeya starts slow and even, pulling almost all the way out before easing himself balls deep a few times, making you feel every inch as his cock drags and pulls along your slippery insides. 
the lingering effects of your orgasm have left you even tighter than the first time he fucked you. he can already feel the heat pooling at the base of his spine, his balls drawing closer to his body when his hips begin to snap. there’s no way he’s going to get enough of you before he cums. you feel too fucking good - the way your little cunt is squeezing and sucking him so hard, drooling and soaking his entire length as he fucks you. the pretty little sounds your mouth and your pussy make for him…your whines and cries of his name, the slurps and squelches of your juices all over his cock. 
he’s got to get more of you, plunge his cock deeper inside your hot, wet cunt. 
kaeya pushes up onto his knees and props your ankles on his shoulders, still fucking you through it all without missing a beat.
“oh gods, kae- kaeya~...feels so good, don’t stop!”
“wasn’t planning on it…” he pants as he leans forward, putting you in a deep press so he can hit the spot that makes your hips leave the bed. “...gonna fuck you until this sweet pussy of yours creams all over my dick…”
you’re twisting the sheets in your fists above your head, the firm ridge of kaeya’s cockhead bumping against your sweet spot with every snap of his hips. strands of blue hair are sticking to his tan skin, a bead of sweat trickles down his chest before dripping onto yours. his palms are planted firmly on either side of you, veins popping out along his sinewy arms as muffled grunts form in his throat.
your walls are closing in tighter around him, both of you can feel it. his name is leaving your lips in broken syllables, coming out in huffs with the force of his thrusts: “kae-ya…y-you…fuck…g-gon-na…” is all you can manage before he fucks your next orgasm right out of you. you’re pawing at his chest, crying his name, clenching so hard around him you’d push him out were it not for him pounding into you harder, fighting to stay inside, determined to fuck you all the way through it with his brow furrowed and jaw clenched.
his balls ache, but he’s able to hold out for a few more seconds before the coil snaps inside him. he swears and pulls out quickly, his narrow hips still jerking and his arm flexing as he spills his hot, sticky seed out onto your belly and tits. you watch the pleasure wash over his beautiful face as his cock twitches in his own hand, a groan giving way to a satisfied sigh as the last of his cum oozes from his slit.
one at a time, he lowers your feet to the bed on either side of him. both of you are out of breath, chests heaving as kaeya dips down and licks a glob of his still-warm semen from your skin before bringing his mouth to yours. you moan in his mouth at his flavor, eagerly swirling your tongue around his to let him feed you his fresh, salty cum. 
when he rolls off of you, both of you just lie on your backs in comfortable silence for a few moments, catching your breaths and basking in the afterglow. 
“i guess this means you’ll be leaving soon, hm?” you finally ask. 
with one knee bent, kaeya turns his head to look at you as you gaze up at the ceiling. “is that your way of kicking me out of your bed?” he asks with a forced smirk. 
“no,” you chuckle. “i just didn’t take you for the type to stick around after a one-night stand…” you turn onto your side to face him. “but if i’m being honest, i really don’t want you to leave.”
“just how big of a whore do you think i am?” kaeya asks, contriving to sound offended and making you chuckle. he mirrors you and rolls onto his side, tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’m glad you want me to stay. i’ve had more fun with you tonight than i’ve had in a really long time.”
“is that right?” you say, biting your lip and dragging a fingertip down his enticing cleavage. “then why should our fun end?” you lean in and kiss him, his lips meeting yours softly.
“i didn’t say it should...” kaeya says before pressing his lips to yours again.
you press your hand against his chest, prompting him to lay on his back. goosebumps rise to meet your lips when you kiss his tan neck. he leans his head back and gasps quietly when you gently palm his softened cock. your touch is exquisite. he wants more of you but first he’s content to enjoy the wet kisses you leave along his skin as you work your way down to one of his dark and tightly budded nipples.
you smile and look up at him when he moans your name at the feeling of your tongue flicking over what’s proving to be one of his most sensitive spots. continuing on down, you take your time ghosting sweet kisses along the valley of his taut abs, all the way down to his cute navel and blue happy trail. you’re appreciating the time and care he obviously puts into his manscaping when you wrap your fingers around his still-sticky cock, surprised to find it so hard again already. 
with a couple of fingers holding his base, you swirl your tongue around his salty cockhead and fuck he tastes good. you close your lips around his tip and give it a little suckle before popping off again to kiss the underside of his rigid shaft. you can still taste yourself on him too, somehow making you want to suck him even more. 
sliding his slender fingers into your hair, kaeya mutters, “y/n…please…”
you finally take him in your mouth, your saliva coating him as you slowly sink down until his tip touches the back of your throat before hollowing your cheeks and pulling back towards his tip. with a slight tremble of his open legs, kaeya’s fingers tighten in your hair - not to control your pace or depth, but because the sheer pleasure coursing through him has all of his muscles tightening. 
“ahh~ feels so…nnh~” he sighs as you take him in again, “...good.”
the sounds and words leaving his mouth are going straight to your pussy. you want to know just how good you can make him feel so after a little more cocksucking, you pull off him and move to straddle his hips.
you and kaeya hold eye contact as you line him up with your slit, dragging his tip between your pussy lips a few times. you’ll never forget the pleading look in his eye or the way his lips part when his blunt, leaking tip catches on your opening and you begin to lower yourself on his length. kaeya takes your hands in his, intertwining your fingers as your eyes flutter shut at the sensation of being filled once again with his girth.
you lean down to kiss him as you begin to ride him, slowly at first but gradually working yourself into a frenzy. kaeya’s hands grip your hips as you pop your ass on him, gliding along his filling cock. your moans turn to whimpers as you feel yourself approaching another orgasm and you start bucking your hips. 
“ka-hahh~ kaeya…” you sit up, your hands anchoring themselves to his chest, using his body as leverage to drag your clit along his happy trail. 
kaeya’s fingertips are digging into the plush of your butt, aiding your thrusts as he whispers words of encouragement. “that’s it, y/n. you’re doing so well…fucking me right…you’re almost there, keep going~”
and just like that, your fingertips dig into the muscle of his chest as your orgasm rips through you. you’re crying his name out over and over as you spasm all around him and the very fibers of your being feel like they’re being torn asunder until your body begins to go limp. kaeya welcomes you into his embrace as you lower your chest to his, your hot breath bathing his neck as you try to catch it, still whining here and there as he kisses the side of your head and tells you how fucking amazing you are.
with some of your strength and mind returning, you rise just enough to kiss him again, finding a fleeting look of sheer adoration in his eye before he lifts your hips and pulls out of you, his rock hard, creamy cock slapping against his happy trail. he moves you onto your belly while he positions himself behind you, pulling your weak hips up until you’re presenting for him.
“is this okay?” he mutters, dragging his tip along your quivering slit.
eyes still closed, you nod weakly against the bed. “ye-yes…please, kaeya~”
with one hand on your lower back, he guides his cock inside you before hooking both his hands around your hips. he fucks you slowly, pulling almost all the way out before sinking himself fully inside your heat again. but it isn’t long before kaeya’s wet hips are slapping against your ass and he’s watching the creamy ring you’re leaving on his cock, mesmerized by how beautifully it contrasts with his darker skin. the thick vein on top of his cock is rolling under the pressure of your tight, sucking cunt - every time kaeya thrusts inside you. 
you’re whimpering again. “s-sir kaeyaaa~” you whine at him over your shoulder. 
“love it when you call me that…” he pants.
“i- hahh~ i know~” you say with a sly, exhausted smile. 
his balls are tightening again - rolling around in his sac as the muscles around them seek to force his seed out again, making him moan and exhale a long “ah, fuuuuuck~” behind you. “gonna cum…”
after a few more stuttered thrusts, kaeya buries himself deep inside you, his tightened balls pressed hard against your clit as he unloads himself. “i’m...nggh...i'm cumming~” he can’t help but moan loudly as he coats your walls with his hot, milky seed. a couple of thick globs leak from the rim of your hole, and drip down his tight, dark-skinned balls.
kaeya nearly collapses on top of you, but manages to land on the bed beside you, pulling you close to him. you’re facing each other but your eyes are still closed as you both kiss whatever part of the other’s body or face is closest, too exhausted to mutter a single word. 
⊹✧˚。⋆
dawn comes, bringing with it her harsh light. your eyes flutter open with a squint, turning away from it only to find an arm lying limply around you. 
oh. oh right. that happened. 
you smile weakly at the fresh memories of your drunken fuckfest with the cavalry captain of the knights of favonius.
the fact that your duties in mondstadt have been fulfilled and you’ll be leaving to return to your homeland give you a low, sinking feeling in your heart. after a few minutes of replaying the events of the previous night and considering your options, you gingerly move the cavalry captain’s arm off your body - slowly and carefully so as not to wake him. 
⊹✧˚。⋆
kaeya wakes with a groan, his eye blinking open to find himself alone in the hotel bed. he sits up and looks around, calling your name once but to no avail. he thinks ‘how predictable’ when he realizes you left without even saying goodbye. he tries to ignore the ache in his chest, reminding himself that he should be used to it by now. he throws the covers back to start getting dressed when from the corner of his eye he catches something flutter: a folded piece of parchment that had been resting on your pillow. a thread of hope dares to weave its way through his heart as he picks it up and begins to read:
“you looked so handsome and peaceful in the morning light, i didn’t want to wake you. thank you…for everything, but especially for the night before. i don’t want to call it “last” night because i truly hope it wasn’t our last. please reach out if you feel the same. i’d love for you to visit my homeland so i can be your tour guide and return the favor…i’d love to see you again, sir kaeya alberich…”
you’d signed it with your name and a simple, small heart before writing your address below your signature.
a couple of days later, you receive a letter inside an envelope with the seal of the knights of favonius. 
“of course i feel the same. our time together was far too delightful to have been so brief. i would love to visit you and experience all that your homeland has to offer. the acting grand master has been urging me to take some time off to relax anyway. so just tell me when and i’ll be there with bells on. we’ll paint the town red and enjoy as many more nights together as you please, my lady.”
— sir kaeya
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kaeya m.list | main m.list
⊹✧˚。⋆ 18+ reblogs, likes, comments, and follows always appreciated !! i give you all kithkith !!
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theactofknowing · 4 months
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can i have a little fic of legolas x elf reader braiding each other’a hair? can be in any setting 🫶
i guess…. 😒🙄
braid my hair (if i braid yours)
legolas/gn!reader
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a short and sweet drabble, nothing but a nice conversation with soothing hands. about .7k words! i’m a little evil and i changed the prompt a wee bit.
It’d been a simple day of travel, eased by echoed chatter among your fellows and the comforting allure of nature. Your party came to a halt when exhaustion and being famished began to gnaw at the edge of everyone’s attention—urged, by the constant complaints of two hobbits.
Uncaringly, you drop your belongings somewhere, generally, in the clearing of your makeshift camp. Your mind begins to wander as the voices of your companions fade— you hear Gimli’s boisterous voice as he pars with someone or another, informing them on how to properly hunt for dinner.
You huff in amusement before the wind begins to whip your hair against your face like a punishment. You curse to yourself, dragging remnants of your hair our of your mouth before a voice drags your irritation away from the front of your mind.
“You should tie your hair back.” Legolas, the sneak, says, not even announced by the crunch of the forest floor. You’d become accustomed to his quick yet silent nature, after instances one too many of you nearly tumbling off a cliffside from being startled.
“Is that so?” You reply almost absentmindedly, watching as he gingerly sits on an upturned tree. You flick your heft of hair over your shoulder as you sit besides him, ignoring the uncomfortable pricks of the bark. This position wasn’t unfamiliar to you—you’d found him intriguing, his nature was silent yet occupied with quips of wisdom—you spent nights beside him conversing as though you were old acquaintances. “I don’t care to braid my hair, honestly.”
He corrects you, a small smile gracing his features. You drop your eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by the softness to his face as he spoke. “You have no patience for it, you mean. I do.”
You raise an eyebrow. “And you said nothing to me the entire day?”
“I was waiting to see if you came to a conclusion yourself.” He says with a twinge of tease, lacing his tone as a parallel to the sweet smile on his face. He urges you forward with a flick of his fingers, “Come. I’ll aid you this once.”
You turn your back to him, presenting your entanglement of hair. You fall comfortable in the companionable silence that follows his focus. His hands glide through your hair, separating the chunks to rhythmically tend to—over, under. You resist the urge to sigh as his hands deftly massage your head as well, focusing on your thoughts instead. You wonder if his face is pinched in concentration, or smoothed from peacefulness as his hands traveled.
“Do you regret volunteering for the fellowship?” You ask, ignoring the urge to turn and face him as you spoke. None of those who’d volunteered to join the journey had planned to do so, those that came had arrived with the precipice of another task on their mind.
You suppose the answer is simple, because he answers without faltering. “No. To be courageous is to be spontaneous.” He adds, “This is a… very tasking trip, though.”
You laugh, and a surge of confidence spurs you, perhaps from the protection that comes with facing away—there’s no confusion or irritation to be presented with and sink your hopes. You lick your lips, fiddling with the cloth that lines your thighs as you ponder your question. You add on, knowing your innuendo is clear, “Then do you like the company you keep on this long, terrible journey?”
You feel his hands falter in their pattern through your hair—surprising, considering the courage and display of assurance you often saw. Disappointing, you think, and left an itch of anxiety in the core of your chest from his silence—assumingely disapproving.
“Yes,” His voice is soft, akin to the sweet melody he spoke when he whispered of the wonders of nature. You’re surprised, and hold back the urge to perk up from your seated spot. “I do.”
You hum in response, knowing you’re lost for words.
You peer over your shoulder just the once, seeing from the edge of your gaze that a piece of cloth was being wrapped around the tip of your braid by Legolas’ swift hands.
The braid is efficient, and not a single stray hair pokes from its confines. You run your hair over it and nod approvingly, before turning fully to him. You smile, “Thank you.”
He only nods.
requested @sugairsstuff who! hey! also writes
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watchmegetobsessed · 1 year
Text
NO HEARTBREAK
A/N: i can't believe i actually finished this fic, but here we are! hope you can still take some holiday spirit, this was originally planned for fanficmas, but i got stuck with it, so i put it aside, but now its here!
PAIRING: Harry x PA!reader
WORD COUNT: 9.7k
WARNING: mention of alcoholic parent
SUMMARY: You planned to spend the holidays alone, just like you always do. However, your boss had other ideas.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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You unpack the chicken sandwich you planned to eat hours ago, but you haven’t gotten around to actually do it. Now it’s past six and you’re finally having a breather and have the chance to eat your lunch. It’s gotten saggy, kind of melted together, but you’re famished at this point and you’d eat just about anything.
Just as you bite into it, the door you exited through just minutes ago flings open.
“Y/N? Harry is asking for you,” an assistant from the venue walks up to you with an apologetic look when she sees that you’re eating.
“What could he possibly need?” you groan with your mouth full.
“H-He didn’t say, he just—“
“Of course he didn’t, because he is being a brat,” you roll your eyes, swallowing the bite before taking another one. You decide he is alright waiting one more minute, his dressing room is probably not on fire, so it can’t be that urgent.
Seemingly, the assistant is shocked that you just called him a brat, for one because he is your boss and for two because he is literally known to be the nicest person alive.
He really is. But sometimes he just knows exactly how to get on your nerves.
While still eating, you head inside, dodging any questions flying in your direction.
“I’m on my lunch break!” you tell everyone, waving at them in dismiss.
“It’s six twenty,” you hear someone mumble in confusion, but you just shrug as you eat your sandwich, heading to Harry’s dressing room.
You don’t knock, just walk in and though the assistant that’s been following you like a minion sprints right out of the room when she sees Harry only in his underwear, you don’t even flinch as you step inside.
“Yeah, you’re not on fire,” you sigh, to which he gives you a puzzled look, but you just shake your head. “What did you want? I’m on my lunch break,” you say, kicking the door shut before taking another bite from your sandwich.
“It’s almost half past six.”
“And I didn’t have time to eat since my so called boss left his phone in his hotel, so I had to do an extra round back there aside my usual tasks,” you answer with a fake smile.
“Come on, don’t be so grumpy!” He steps closer, wanting to cradle your face in his hands but you swat them away.
“What do you want!” you repeat.
“I can’t find my shoes.”
You stare back at him with a blank look on your face before speaking up.
“Have you checked in the box that has ‘shoes’ written on it?” you ask.
“Yeah, but I didn’t find it.”
Bullshit. You already know it’s there, he is just doing this to get on your nerves, because that’s his hobby. He loves pissing you off as if it was his job and then he also loves begging for your forgiveness, which you give him every damn time.
That’s your dynamic. And you love it.
“Hold this,” you say, handing him the half eaten sandwich before walking over to the shoe box. “You’re giving me a raise if I find it in here.”
“I’m already paying you a ridiculous amount.”
“Because I deserve it for putting up with you.”
You dig into the box, knowing exactly which pair he needs for tonight’s outfit and in the meantime, he stands over you, still in his outfit and you’re trying to ignore that tiny little fact. Pushing a few shoes aside you catch a glimpse of the pair you need and you pull it out with a sigh.
“How about a Christmas bonus?” you ask, holding the shoes up for him as you stand up, hand them over and then take your sandwich from him before flopping down onto the couch.
“You know you always get a Christmas bonus,” he comments as he steps over to the clothes rack with the lazy intention of getting dressed. Over your sandwich, you allow yourself to steal a few glimpses of his naked torso and legs before they get covered by his outfit.
You hate how it makes you feel every damn time, even after four years of knowing him. How your body betrays you when your head is trying to do the right thing and forget about the feelings you’ve been harboring for your boss for so long. It’s such a cliché, almost kind of ridiculous, but luckily, no one knows about it and if it depends on you, you’ll take this to the grave with yourself.
“Speaking of Christmas, you know when you’re leaving?” he asks, tugging his shirt over his head.
“What do you mean?”
“When are you going home to your family?”
“Oh, I’m not going anywhere,” you nonchalantly say before swallowing the last bite of your sandwich.
“What? So… your family comes here?”
“Nope.”
“Y/N, what are you talking about? Where are you spending the holidays?”
“At home.”
“But you just said that you’re not going home.”
“No, you asked if I’m going home to my family. I said I’m not going anywhere.”
“Would you stop pulling my leg and just tell me what I want to hear?” he groans and for once he’s the one who’s annoyed with you.
“I’m not spending Christmas with family. I’ll be just… in my apartment, probably watching The Office, eating gingerbread.”
“You’re fucking with me, right?” he asks in disbelief. “You mean to tell me you’ll be alone for the holidays?”
“Yeah. Just like for the past few years. It’s no big deal,” you shrug, but it blows his mind.
“The past—what?! You’ve been alone all these years? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You never asked.”
“Jesus, woman!” he scoffs. “What’s… Why? I know that you never met your dad and your mom… has passed, but you must have some kind of family.”
“Not really,” you simply say. Harry stares at you and it’s obvious he has a lot of questions, but he remains silent for a couple of minutes before speaking up.
“Spend it with me then.”
Now it’s your turn to look at him with a puzzled expression.
“Huh?”
“Come home with me for the holidays,” he repeats, squeezing himself into his pants.
“Uh-huh, nice joke,” you snort out a laugh.
“I’m not joking. I know my mum would be glad to have you for Christmas, Gemma has been asking me about you too, she would love to see you again. So just spend the holidays with us.”
“I’m not family, I won’t just… crash your time at home.”
“Oh come on! First of all, you are family. You’ve spent more time with me in the past four years than my actual mother and sister. And second, you wouldn’t be crashing. I’m inviting you, so I obviously want you there.”
You stand from the couch and dump the wrapping paper of your late lunch into the trash before walking over to him.
“No,” is all you say to him.
“No?”
“No, I’m not going home with you. Now don’t disturb me unless your pants are on fire. I have shit to do before you go on stage.”
And with that you just walk out.
The show passes by smoothly and you watch part of it from the pit like you usually do, following Harry’s jumping form around the stage, ignoring how wildly your heart is beating every time he’s scanning over the crowd where you’re standing. In an arena full of thousands of people, you can still feel like you and him are the only ones.
It’s clear to you that you can’t spend the holidays with him and his family. It would cause your heart to break beyond repair and though you’re good with keeping up the tough look, you wouldn’t survive a hit this painful.
Harry has the most loving and supportive family you’ve ever seen, that’s why he could become the person he is today with a heart bigger than life. You would get a glimpse of what you never experienced and what you’ll never have. Him, all the love he receives and gives, the big happy family that surrounds him even in his worst moments. You’d have to come home to your lonesome, work filled life and realize just how much you crave to be loved like you were never before.
Your job is your life, because being around Harry brings you some warmth and life, a sliver of what you’ve always craved.
You go backstage before the show is over to get everything ready for him to leave once he zooms off the stage. Busying yourself so when he bursts into his dressing room he doesn’t have the chance to bring your visit up again.
“You’re oddly silent,” he comments in the car, riding back to the hotel that you’ll be leaving in the morning.
“Just tired,” you shrug, hoping he wouldn’t push you, but you should know it by now that’s not possible with him.
“Is it about my invitation? I meant it, I want you to come and—“
“I’m not going, Harry,” you snap, probably a bit harsher than you intended. When you get his silence in reply, regret sinks into the pit of your stomach, but you keep your mouth shut.
Tour carries on and you dread to reach the end of it, because it means Harry will go on a break so you have to go on a break too. It’s the downside of being a personal assistant, you need to line your life up with your boss’.
Harry hasn’t brought Christmas up since you declined his invitation so you’re convinced he accepted your choice.
The last show blows the arena up, he sings Kiwi three times and you watch him with a swelling chest as he puts everything he has into pleasing his fans. You drink up the sight of him on stage, because you won’t see it until you get back on the road next year.
“How was it?” Harry asks out of breath as you match his fast steps towards the dressing room.
“You’re always great, why do you ask me every time?”
“Because I like hearing it from you,” he grins, shaking his jacket off himself and you catch it before it could land on the floor.
Everything goes as usual, you pack up, head back to the hotel and get ready to leaving in the morning only that this time you’re going home and Harry leaves to the UK. There’s one week left until Christmas and according to his schedule that you know like the back of your hand because you put it together, he won’t return to the States until the third of January.
You ring him up in the morning, making sure he is up and then you meet everyone at the lobby for checking out.
“You have your tickets ready?” Harry asks, a smug grin on his annoyingly handsome face as he pokes at your bag.
“What, did you turn into my assistant?” you sass at him, which just makes him laugh.
“Just making sure,” he shrugs and walks away to talk to Mitch and you eye him with suspicion.
And you should have gotten more into it, because the picture clicks together when you part way at the airport. Harry is taking a private jet home while you fly commercial so you need to go to your gate from the lounge after your rounds of goodbye.
You hand your ticket to the flight attendant, she scans it and then comes the shit storm.
“I’m sorry, Miss, but it seems like your ticket has been cancelled.”
“What?” Blood dries out of your face.
“It’s not valid anymore.”
“Shouldn’t I have been notified about such a change?”
“It was a customer cancelation, not from our side.”
“A customer… That fuck…” you growl as realization sets in. “Great, amazing. If you excuse me, I’ll just go and kill my boss.”
You step out of the line and grabbing your carry on you march back to the lounge where Harry is supposed to me. And he is, smugly sitting in the same spot you left him, sipping on a drink.
“What the fuck did you do?!” you stand in front of him with your hands on your hips, but all you get is a grin.
“Y/N, aren’t you gonna miss your flight?”
“Stop with the bullshit, you cancelled my ticket!”
“Me? Oh, I would never do such thing!” He puts the glass down and stands, tucking his hands into his pockets as he looks down at you with a smirk you’re not sure you want to slap or kiss off his face. “So, you’re gonna have to come with me. You can’t get stuck here, there’s no other flight back to New York today.”
“And how would you know that if you didn’t check?”
“Just a feeling,” he shrugs. “Come on, we can board the jet now. You’re coming home with me!”
He wraps his arm around your shoulders, but you shake it off and stand still. He is not getting away with it this easily.
“Harry, I’m not going home with you.”
“Yes, you are. I already arranged everything,” he shrugs and it just infuriates you even more.
“Fuck off.”
“Y/N, board the jet with me. You’re coming home with me.” His tone drops and you swear you’ve never seen him this determined about anything. Looking around you notice that people start to pick up the scene that is about to unfold, but you’re not one to cause public drama. Harry knows that.
“You’re a fucking child, you know that?” you hiss through your teeth as you catch up with him, a smug grin plastering across his annoyingly handsome face.
“This child is your boss and you love him.”
“I fucking hate you.”
He tries to put his arm around your shoulders again, you shake it off and go ahead, hearing his laughter that just makes you hate him even more.
Or love him.
The flight is long, but you sleep through most of it. You wake a few hours before landing and pulling out your laptop you try to work some on Harry’s schedule for January, but before you could get into it, he slams it shut and takes away.
“Hey! What are you doing?” you groan as he sits across you, hugging your device to his chest with a smug look.
“No working, we’re off the clock. I’m holding onto this until after Christmas.”
“No, you’re not. That’s my personal laptop so I need it back.”
His face falls as he realizes it’s not something he got you for the job and not too willingly, but hands you back.
“Put it away though. No work until after Christmas, I mean it.”
“You’re awfully obsessed about how I spend my holidays all of a sudden.”
“Just want you to have a good time.”
“And what makes you think I’m not good on my own in my apartment?”
“Because I know you,” he simply answers before standing up and walking to the back of the jet.
You land safely and make it through the airport, meeting Gemma as you walk through the doors of the terminal and you’re not even surprised she’s been expecting to see you. It was all planned out probably way ahead.
“Good to see you again!” she smiles, pulling you into a quick hug.
“Same, though it would be better if you didn’t play along with your scheming brother,” you narrow your eyes at her.
“You belong here, Y/N. I would have hit him if I found out he let you alone for the holidays.”
“Great, both Styles kids are against me,” you scoff.
“Stop being a drama queen and get your ass into the car,” Harry pokes your side before wrapping his sister in a hug.
You sit in the back on the ride and listen to the siblings catching up, occasionally chiming into the conversation. You try to focus on the scenery that’s passing by you, but you often find yourself stealing looks at Harry. The change in him is already visible, he has switched out of work mode and into break mode, he’s a lot looser and carefree and you wonder if he’s been dreading this break for a long time. He always stretches himself to his full capacity and you find yourself worrying about him overworking himself and not giving himself enough time to recharge.
“Wait, where are we… Where are we going?” you ask when you finally process that this is not the way to Anne’s.
“To my place,” Harry simply answers. “Why?”
“Why not Anne’s? You always spend Christmas at hers, don’t you?”
“She doesn’t have enough room to accommodate both of us, one of her girlfriends is temporarily living with her until January, so we’re staying at mine and just go over,�� he explains and your heart starts racing instantly. You’ll be locked in Harry’s London home, just the two of you. Alone.
It’s not your first time in his London home, but definitely the first time staying over, being his guest. It’s already stressing you out.
“Thanks for the ride, Gem,” Harry hugs her upon arriving at his place.
“No problem. See you at mum’s on the twenty-fourth?”
“Of course.”
You’re busying yourself with your bags, but you catch her whispering something in his ear and you wonder what kind of secret can’t you hear, but you don’t want to be nosy.
“Bye Gemma,” you smile at her as she gets back into her car.
“Try not to kill each other!” she chuckles through the rolled down window.
“Give me that,” Harry snatches your big suitcase from your hands, leaving several of his bags on the porch just to bring yours in first.
It hasn’t changed since you’ve last been here a few months ago, but Harry himself was only one time here since then. You always feel in awe here, because it’s so uniquely Harry, this house reflects his taste the absolute most. His LA home is humongous and modern, but this is what feels the most like him with mismatched vintage furniture mixed with some modern ones, lots of trinkets and decoration everywhere you go and a bunch of framed photos of him with friends and family. Walking around in here feels like invading his mind in a sense, but you were invited here, so you’re just enjoying the intimate glimpse for now.
Harry shows you his guest bedroom that’s right next to his room, it’s nice and cozy and you have your own bathroom.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” he warns you just when you sit on the edge of the bed, bouncing on it gently.
“Why?”
“Because we have things to do. Come on, let’s go.”
“Harry, we literally just arrived, what could be so important that we can’t even unpack?”
Christmas shopping.
Harry drags you on a shopping spree where you buy all kinds of Christmas decorations, ornaments, garlands and lights to cover every possible corner of his house. When you’re done with that, you go grocery shopping to stock up the fridge and pantry that’s now empty. You buy so much food it would be enough for three families until the end of the year. On the way you find out only half of it was meant to make it home, on the way Harry simply stops at a homeless shelter and drops everything off. He doesn’t try to document it or draw attention to himself, you know it’s not what it is about for him.
He even asks for a list of things they would need and promises to drop by with them later. When you’re heading back to his place you can’t stop staring at him and he notices it too.
“What?” he chuckles with a tint of blush on his cheeks.
“Nothing,” you shake your head, but then add: “You’re such a good man.”
He doesn’t say anything, just nods shortly, acknowledging what you said.
Arriving home you carry everything inside and you want nothing than to take a nap maybe, jetlag is starting to kick in, but Harry has other plans.
“What, how do you think all this decoration will be put up?”
You groan and act like a drama queen, but of course, help him with anything and everything. You work for hours, but it doesn’t feel that long. Harry does everything he can to annoy you, but it always turns into fits of laughter and you start sabotaging him too. Your banter is perfect and you totally forget just how tired you were feeling not long ago.
“I’ll order dinner while you finish these, what do you want?” he asks while you’re hanging the stockings over the fireplace.
“We literally just restocked your fridge, why don’t we cook something?”
“Because I always crave fast food when I’m jetlagged,” he shrugs, opening up the app on his phone. “Pizza?”
“Sure,” you nod.
About thirty minutes later you’re sitting by the kitchen island, eating extra cheesy pizza and drinking wine.
“You’re not actually mad at me for bringing you here, right?” he asks, peeking at you over his slice.
“I was at the airport.”
“Okay, but what about now? If you don’t want to be here I can book you a flight back or you can take the jet…”
You know you have all those options, he would drive you to the airport without hesitation at five in the morning and it might have occurred to you to leave, but now, as you’re sitting here with him you realize there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.
“No need. I’m… I’m happy to stay if you’ll have me.”
“Of course I will have you!” he chuckles in relief. “You’ll always have a place here or wherever I am. I told you, you’re family.” Reaching over he tickles your ear, something he knows you hate, because it makes you giggle like a toddler, but he just laughs as you smack his hand away.
“Stop! My ears are off limits!” you protest.
Even though you’re around Harry 24/7, there’s not much alone time you actually get to spend with him. He’s always surrounded by people, his life is constantly buzzing and you don’t want to bother him when he has some private time for himself. But this time, it’s just the two of you having the most one-on-one time you’ve spent together probably ever.
Sitting by the kitchen island, the pizza is long gone when you’re still talking, the last drops of wine chilling in your glasses. The conversation flows easily and you hop from light topics to heavier ones and this is the version of Harry that truly makes it easy to fall for him.
“Can I ask you something?” he pops the question, turning towards you with his whole body on the stool.
“Sure.”
“Why were you so against spending the holidays with me? We’re friends, right?”
“Yeah, we are,” you nod, avoiding to look at him.
“So then why would you choose going home alone instead of being with me and my family?”
Pursing your lips you push them from one side to the other, trying to come up with an answer, but there’s nothing that you’d willing to say out loud.
“Okay, I see this is a touchy subject. You don’t have to answer.”
Slipping off his stool he starts cleaning up and you feel bad for not answering his question, but you just can’t bring yourself to reveal this part of you to him just yet. You’re not one to get vulnerable easily even though Harry would be worthy of it.
You silently stand rom your stool and grab the wine glasses before loading them into the dishwasher. He is standing with his back facing you and for a moment you fight the urge to hug him from behind. It would be way too intimate and you’d never be in the position where you get to be that close to him, and the thought is so excruciating.
“Good night, Harry,” you mumble under your breath, heading out of the kitchen, but his voice stops you.
“I meant it, Y/N.”
You turn around at the doorway and see him watching you, leaning against the edge of the counter.
“You’ll always have a place with me.”
You have no words to answer, so you just turn around and walk out.
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Eleven hours of sleep completely wipes out the awkwardness of the last bits of your conversation from last night. Despite the long sleep, you feel disoriented, the jetlag is still kicking your butt and most likely Harry is fighting the same battle, because when you appear in the kitchen he is sipping on what smells like the strongest brew of coffee as he sits by the kitchen counter with his phone.
“Mornin’,” you clear your throat and grabbing a mug you pour some for yourself from the vintage pot before joining him.
“Good morning, how did you sleep?”
“Like a truck hit me,” you chuckle, rubbing your eyes.
“Do you have plans for today?”
“You’re asking that as if I planned to be here.”
“Alright, then get ready, we’re leaving in twenty. We have a busy day ahead of us.”
He did not joke.
After a quick breakfast the two of you make a round to get everything from the list the shelter gave you and you drop it off as promised. It gives you an insane boost for the day, seeing the volunteers be so grateful. He chats for a bit, gets to know the problems they face around winter time and you already know he will donate a fat amount to the shelter before Christmas morning.
He takes a group picture with the volunteers, but asks them not to post until after the holidays. People tend to look for the bad in pure acts and he knows well they would call him out for wanting clout.
Then you’re off for a last minute gift shopping, it’s quick, because Harry knows exactly what he wants to buy and where he can find them, so you get done with it before he could be spotted.
He has to drop off something for a friend at the ice rink that’s in front of the town hall for the Christmas Market, so that’s where you’re headed next. You don’t want to stay in the car so while Harry disappears, you wander to the side of the rink, watching the skaters, mostly kids. You watch the joy on their faces, the screams and laughs, you’re witnessing some great memories being made.
You wish you had some of these as well.
“You want to skate?”
You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice Harry’s return.
“Huh?”
“You’re watching them so intently. We have time to skate a bit if you want,” he offers with a small smile.
“Oh, no. Let’s just go. People will recognize you and it will turn into a shit show,” you shrug, stepping away from the rink.
“I mean, there are about fifty people at most, don’t think it would get that bad. Come on, I’ll get us both a pair of skates.”
“Harry, I can’t skate,” you admit, not too willingly. “I never… I never learned how to skate.”
He looks back at you stunned, opens his mouth to say something but then closes it and your need to get away from the rink grows.
“Your mom never took you skating?” he then asks and you shake your head.
“She was busy getting drunk or pretending she was getting better at rehab for the third time,” you shrug, acting like it’s no big deal, but your childhood or the lack of a normal one has always stung. You just learned how to mask the pain.
Harry doesn’t speak as he nods shortly and the two of you head back to the car in silence. Arriving back to his home you’re desperate for some alone time so you lock yourself up in your room and end up taking a nap. 
It’s dark outside when you wake up, your throat feels dry like a desert and you swear it feels like you slept for days, but when you check the time on your phone you see that it’s been just about two hours. 
When you make your way downstairs you find Harry in the living room with a fake tree, ornaments and decorations littering across the floor everywhere you see as he is putting up the lights first. 
“Hey,” you softly speak up to get his attention. He looks over his shoulder before finishing up with the lights before stepping back.
“Hi! Was I too loud? I’m sorry if I woke you up–”
“No, I didn’t hear a thing,” you smile back at him. “Can I help?”
“Sure!”
The two of you slowly dress the tree up, he has all kinds of ornaments, silly ones, vintage ones, even handmade ones, so it turns out colorful and mismatched, but it fits him and his home perfectly. You can’t even picture him to have one of those perfectly decorated modern trees. 
“Hungry?” he then asks when you’re finished.
“Yeah.”
You cook together, though it’s mostly him, you’re just working under his hand because you don’t want to be useless. It’s quiet, usually your chit-chat is ongoing, but now you both keep away from conversing and you know it’s because of your comment about your mom earlier. You shouldn’t have been this blunt, it must have come off the wrong way.
“Hey, I’m sorry for what I said,” you speak up, leaning against the edge of the counter.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I shouldn’t have been that blunt, you couldn’t know… and I shouldn’t have said it, it’s not something I should be sharing…”
“Y/N, don’t think you have anything to be ashamed of,” he says, finally looking at you as he puts the knife down. “And I don’t want you to think that just because your past wasn’t that good your future can’t be different. I told you, you’re family for me and for a lot others in the crew.”
“It’s… You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble under your breath, refusing to look at him.
“But I do know, I know that you are part of my family and you don’t ever have to feel like you’re alone. Christmas, Easter or birthdays, you’re always welcomed here.”
There are no words that can describe what you’re feeling as he is looking at you with those beautiful eyes filled with warmth. There’s a sense of belonging that’s pulling you towards him, but you still have your walls up so you keep your distance even despite the strong urge to just throw yourself into his arms. 
“Thank you,” is all you manage to say. Harry nods before turning back to the food.
You don’t talk about it again. By the time dinner is ready the mood has lightened and you’re back to your usual dynamic. 
That night you go to sleep with mixed feelings. It’s great to spend the holiday somewhere where you’re wanted and welcomed. It’s been a long time since you felt this at home at Christmas, it’s been seven years since your mom died and for a while you spent the holidays with a friend of yours, but even then, you didn’t feel like you belonged there, it was more of a pity invite you got. You had a fallout not long after and the lonely times began. But Harry is not changing it all, for the first time in your life you actually feel like you’re surrounded with love and he didn’t just fly you out because he felt sorry for you, but because he actually wanted you here.
On the other hand however, you can’t ignore the bitter taste in your mouth, because the tiny voice in the back of your head keeps reminding you that nothing is forever and you should save yourself from heartbreak. No one loves you enough to stay long, that’s just how it’s always been and it will be like that in the future too. If you let yourself believe that Harry will be in your life forever, you’ll end up crying when he leaves, just like everyone else in your life did. You need to keep your distance, that’s why he can never know about your feelings for him you’ve been harboring.
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“You’re here! Oh, I’m so happy to see you again!”
Anne pulls you into the most bone crushing hug ever when you walk into her house. Chuckling you wrap her in your arms as well.
“Hi Anne, thank you for having me.”
“No need to thank me, you’re family!” she waves in dismiss and you swallow back the bitterness, stepping to the side so she can greet her son as well. “I missed you so much!” she sighs and you can’t help but smile as you watch them hug. Harry’s embrace practically swallows his mom, it’s the cutest thing ever. You wonder what it’s like to have such a great mother.
Gemma is already there, cousins, aunts and uncles and a few of Anne’s friends as well. The place is packed, there’s food everywhere and though you know most of Harry’s family, you still feel odd on your own. However, you don’t spend much time left alone, Harry sticks to your side, easing your fears about crushing their family celebration. He is more touchy too, that you notice, his hand often lands on the small of your back, your shoulders or arm, physical connection is continuous throughout lunch and even during game time after. He always insists on being your partner whenever you have to team up for a game and you crush it every time. You spend so much time together, you can understand each other from just a look.
“It’s not fair!” one of his cousins groans following another one of your wins. “There’s a no couples rule and you are definitely one!”
You freeze right away, even though it was just a joke and everybody knows that. No one bats an eye, but Harry notices how tense you’ve become.
“Y/N, is everything–”
“I’m gonna have a breather,” you cut him off and get up from the floor. Grabbing your jacket you rush out to the back porch that’s empty, since it’s freezing cold out.
“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you zip your jacket and fold your arms over your chest. You can never be seen as a couple by others, you will never be together with Harry, not even if he happens to feel the same way you feel about him. This can never be more than just a friendship. It probably shouldn’t have turned into that in the first place, he is your boss, not a friend you hang out with for fun every day. You’re his assistant, you plan his trips, you buy his plane tickets, book his hotel rooms, keep in contact with his accountant and manager and housekeeper and everyone else that’s part of the Harry Styles show. 
The sliding door opens behind you and you want to curse again when you see Harry stepping out.
“Hey, are you alright?” he asks, putting his coat on as he walks over to you.
“I’m fine,” you answer shortly, staring ahead of you, out to Anne’s backyard. 
“You should know by now that I know when you’re lying,” he chuckles softly. “Is it what Jonah said?”
“We’re not a couple, Harry. We should never be.”
“Wow, okay, you took it to your heart.”
“I just don’t want people to think it’s something that could happen. Because it can’t and won’t.”
“I’m sorry that thinking of me in a romantic way is so fucking painful to you,” he snorts out an offended laugh and you instantly regret being so harsh.
“I’m… It’s not…”
“You’ve been so weird, Y/N. Acting like spending the holidays with me is like the last thing you wanna do, and now you get all worked up because of one silly comment.”
“It’s not… It’s not what it looks like. I promise I’m happy to be here it’s just…”
You can’t explain yourself without telling him the truth about your feelings. You’ve been cornered, oh shit.
“Are you… trying to avoid me?” he guesses and you shut your eyes closed, praying he would just disappear so you don’t have to have this conversation. “Okay, don’t answer, but I’ll come clean and maybe that will make you feel better…” he continues and your eyes pop open as you look at him. 
He looks nervous, like before his first solo Wembley show, but there are no thousands of people waiting for him eagerly to perform, it’s just you and him, yet he is fumbling with his fingers as if he was about to go on stage.
“There’s a part of me that hopes you’ve been acting like this because you feel the same way… Y/N, I—fuck, I should have prepared a real speech,” he chuckles anxiously and you can’t decide if you want to run away or jump into his arms. “We spend so much time together and we get along so well, I feel like it was bound to happen… I would love to—Um, gosh, this is so bad,” he chuckles again.
“Harry, no…” you plead quietly, but he either didn’t hear it or chose to ignore it.
“Y/N, you are so much more than just my assistant, you’re one of my absolute best friends, but even more than that… I mean I want you to be more than that and I’m hoping you feel the same way… We’re so good together and you know me better than anyone and I know you like the back of my hand too, that’s why… I have hope that you might feel the same way. I mean, I feel like there’s been sparks and… I really didn’t plan this out, fuck,” he exhales as he finally looks at you now that he has said everything out loud, but then he sees tha panic on your face. “I was wrong, oh shit. You don’t… Fuck,” he curses, running a hand through his hair.
“N-No, I…”
“It’s fine if you don’t feel the same way, I won’t go crazy about it, I mean it will hurt like hell, but it’s fine, or it will be fine.”
“It’s not that. I’m… Harry, I do feel… the same,” you manage to say, but there’s no relief, only pain. 
“You do?” his face lights up.
“Yes, but… We can’t… We can’t do this.”
“Is this because you work for me? I’m sure we could figure it out, don’t stress about that.”
“It’s not about that,” you shake your head. “Please don’t make me… I don’t want to talk about it.”
He is confused, he doesn’t understand what’s happening and how he should feel about it, because you just admitted to having feelings for him, but you’re pushing him away at the same time, it doesn’t make any sense to him at all. 
“Did I do something? I can’t make it right if you don’t tell me what it is, Y/N, I–”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” you repeat yourself and he is more confused than ever, but he wouldn’t make you do something you don’t want to.
“Okay,” he nods. “It’s okay, I won’t bring it up again.”
“You won’t?” you ask with wide eyes, it’s definitely not the reaction you were expecting from him.
“If that’s what you want, yeah.”
“I don’t want this to ruin everything between us, Harry. I don’t want anything to change, I can’t… I can’t afford to lose you too!” The last part comes out barely as just a whisper and they hit him hard in the chest. Lose him too? You could never lose him, no matter what. 
“Hey, you won’t lose me, okay? It’s all good, let’s just… I won’t bring it up again. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Stepping closer he cups your jaw in one hand, the other one resting on your shoulder as you try to control your panicked breathing. 
“I’m sorry,” you breathe out in defeat. This shouldn’t have happened, he will now distance himself from you and you’ll lose yet another person you love and who is supposed to love you back. You want nothing more than to be with him the way he just proposed, but your fears root too deep to let yourself get into a relationship that would hurt you so badly eventually.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s alright, don’t worry. Come on, let’s get back and drink some mulled wine, how does that sound?”
“You’re not mad at me?” you ask in disbelief.
“Of course not,” he smiles and you can tell it’s genuine. He holds a hand out for you and you’re hesitant to take it, but eventually do and the two of you join the party.
You can’t shake the tension in your bones at first, you’re on the edge, waiting for Harry to change, but it never happens. If anything, he is even sweeter with you, always checking in on you, making sure you’re alright and it confuses you even harder.
You just rejected him, he shouldn’t want to be around you. This is not what usually happens, because no matter what, people always leave you. No one has ever loved you enough to want to stay.
You have a few drinks, just enough to ease your anxiety and enjoy the gathering again, like before your talk with Harry. You play more games, sing songs and dance to Christmas music and have some amazing talks with Harry’s family. You’ve never felt more at home, Anne treats you like her daughter, Gemma is like your sister, though Harry… he does not feel like a brother to you. Not when you shiver every time he touches you, not when your eyes meet and he gifts you with a warm smile, mouthing “Are you alright?” every time. Not when he pulls you into his arms and dances with you in the kitchen, your legs tangling together so you almost fall to the floor laughing. 
When the party is dying down you’re in the kitchen helping Anne clean up. 
“I’m sorry I couldn’t host you this year, but next year you’ll have a place here, Y/N, I promise,” she tells you and you stop as you look at her.
“Next year?”
“Yeah. You’re coming next year too, right?” she smiles at you warmly and it feels like a tight hug. “I hope my son didn’t get too much on your nerves,” she adds chuckling.
“No, I… it’s been amazing. Thank you for having me…” Your voice dies down as your throat closes up and tears dwell in your eyes.
Anne notices the change in you and she drops the kitchen towel from her hands to move over to you.
“Darling, what’s wrong?” she asks, her eyes searching your face as she takes it between her hands. You want to talk, but the words don’t roll off your tongue, so you just shake your head, urging yourself to stop crying like a baby.
“Honey, what got you so sad? Did I do something? Or Harry? You want me to whoop his ass?”
A laugh bubbles from your throat and it feels like it broke the restraint that’s been holding your words back.
“You didn’t do anything. You… Well, you did,” you hiccup, “but not in the sense you asked.”
“Tell me what it is, come on, let’s sit down and chat.” She pulls you over to the kitchen island and you both climb up to a stool as she patiently rubs your back.
“I’m sorry for… breaking down,” you breathe out when you finally gain control over your breathing.
“No need to apologize. Just tell me what the matter is, Darling.”
“I’m just… It’s so stupid,” you shake your head with a bitter laugh. “I didn’t want to come here, because… it’s everything I never had.”
“What do you mean?”
“I never had a Christmas like this. I never had a big family, I never experienced so much… love.”
It’s like your chest has been opened and now you’re unloading your deepest thoughts that you’ve been harboring deep down probably your whole life. And Anne quietly listens and lets you talk. 
“We barely celebrated Christmas with my mom, because… she usually wasn’t really in the condition to do so, it was a miracle if she remembered what day it was. I never felt this warmth and I didn’t want to come because I knew it wouldn’t end well. For me.”
“Just because your past Christmases weren’t good, you can still have nice ones now. You have all these people around you that love you and want to spend time with you, this is your chance to make up for all the bad memories.”
“I know,” you breathe out. “But it’s like… my brain is not letting me have it, I keep thinking that if I settle in this feeling and let myself have it, it will hurt more when I lose it.”
“But why do you think you’ll lose it?”
“Because I always lost it,” you answer without missing a beat. 
“Oh Darling…” she breathes out and the next thing you know is that she has her arms around you, pulling you into her embrace, your head resting on her chest. 
You’re not a hugger, you usually try to avoid close physical contact, but now you instantly melt against her, even put your arms around her waist, letting her warmth wrap you in a cocoon. 
“Love is a tricky thing, because as good as it can feel, losing it could break your heart. But you can’t deprive yourself of it fully. You can’t push away everyone from yourself because there’s a chance they might step out of your life one day.”
“But I don’t think I can handle it,” you admit truthfully. “Everyone has left me and I don’t think I can handle it one more time.”
“Of course you can,” she replies, giving you a squeeze. “You have to, because it’s worse if you push everyone away and end up alone. That’s no way to live life.”
“Feels more stable,” you shrug, making her laugh as she lets go of you so she can look at you.
“Yes, but you won’t be happy.”
“I won’t be happy if I get my heart broken again either.”
“No, but when you receive the love, you’ll feel like you’re on the top of the world, that’s what gets you going. Without love, you’ll… lose yourself.”
You’re chewing her words thoroughly, adding everything to what you’ve thought so far and it’s putting it all into a different perspective, though you still can’t shake your deeply rooted fears.
“Have you ever had your heart broken?” you then ask.
“Oh, a million times!” she chuckles. “It’s the way life is, you live, you love and sometimes your heart gets broken. Then you heel and go on from there, appreciating the love you have, looking for other people to give you more. Easy as it is.”
“You really make it sound easy,” you chuckle. 
The two of you sit in silence for a bit, deep in thoughts until Anne speaks up again.
“Harry’s confession scared you, didn’t it?”
“You know about it?” you ask, eyes widened.
“Of course,” she laughs. “He is my son and he shares an awful lot with me. Like his feelings for this one particular girl,” she winks at you, heat crawling up your neck. The thought that Harry told his mom about you awakens the butterflies in your stomach right away.
“I don’t want to lose him,” you mutter, refusing to look her in the eyes. “It’ll hurt less if we… don’t get involved.”
“You really think your heart wouldn’t get broken if you parted ways now?”
You want to answer yes instantly, but you can’t when you actually think about it. It doesn’t matter that you’re not dating him, losing him would be just as hard and painful at this point, because he is your friend. Your best friend, to be exact. He is such a huge part of your life already that it would be impossible not to have your heart broken if you lost him.
“I know you to be the kind of person who takes risks. That’s what you have to do too when it comes to love and you just have to hope for the best. And if you end up hurt, take it as a lesson, build from it and continue stronger.”
She pats your hand and slips off the stool before leaving you alone with your thoughts. 
You needed this conversation and you’re glad it was Anne you could have it with. It’s bittersweet, because you wanted your mom to be just like her, to give you this support and wisdom, but she could never be the mother you needed her to be. 
Your thoughts are racing when you say goodbye and you and Harry head back to his place. It’s dark, the street lights are gently illuminating his face as they pass by and you’re working up your courage to talk to him when you arrive. 
He is still not showing any signs of anger or disappointment about your previous conversation, he is not bitter about getting rejected and it’s sending you a message, loud and clear.
He loves you enough to bear with the pain of being rejected rather than to lose you. 
“If you’re not too tired we can watch a movie, if you want,” he offers arriving home.
“Can we… talk?” you ask, your inside shaking from anticipation and fears. 
“You can talk during the movie, I don’t mind,” he shrugs, not taking the hint what you meant.
“No, I mean… can we have a talk?”
His eyes finally meet yours and he realizes that it’s something serious.
“Oh. Sure, let’s sit down.”
“I can’t,” you blurt out. “I’m… I’m too nervous,” you add.
“Okay, then we’ll stand. What’s up?”
You take a deep breath staring at him, getting lost in those beautiful green eyes for a moment before you force the words out of your mouth.
“I love you.”
It’s relieving and scary at the same time to say it so openly, but you can’t take it back now. Harry’s lips part, but because of your talk earlier, he doesn’t say anything, just waits for you to add more.
“I’m… I’m sorry for the way I reacted today. Truth is that… I’m scared to death, Harry,” you admit, already feeling your eyes tearing up. “I’m so used to people walking out of my life, people who were supposed to love me, that I reject the idea of giving someone the power to break my heart like that again. I thought that I’m protecting myself by pushing you away, but I was so wrong,” you breathe out a bitter chuckle. 
You’re a mess, your hands are shaking and you feel like throwing up, but you know you have to put it all out. It’s now or never. Stepping closer you continue.
“I had an eye-opening talk with your mom,” you smile. “It’s gonna be hard to change my point of view, I’ll have to work on that. But I do take risks and– Sorry, I’m rambling,” you chuckle, scratching the back of your neck.
“It’s okay,” he smiles softly. 
“What I’m trying to say is that… I love you and I… I want to give it a chance. Give us a chance.”
“Really?” His whole face lights up as he takes your face between his hands.
“Yeah,” you smile through your tears. “Just please… Don’t break my heart,” you add in a whisper.
“Oh Y/N…” he exhales, resting his forehead against yours. “You have the right to cut my balls off if I ever do that,” he says, finally making you laugh.
“But I already have the right to do that if you ever miss a flight or don’t answer my texts in less than 24 hours.”
“Add this to the list too,” he grins, nudging your nose with his, his lips are now just a breath away. 
“We have to set boundaries though,” you say, though it’s the last thing you want to talk about.
“We will. But we’re on vacation, so no more work talk,” he warns before his lips finally press against yours. 
You’ve imagined kissing Harry so many times, but fantasy is nothing like reality. Like feeling his hungry mouth discovering yours, his hands pressing into your back or the moan that slips through his delicious lips when you tug on his hair to pull him closer even though you’ve melted together and you can’t tell where you end and where he starts. 
He somehow backs until he bumps against the couch and he falls to the soft cushion, pulling you with him and you settle on his lap, pressing your front against his eagerly. You’re ready to go all the way, right here on his couch, you’ve wanted him for so long, you don’t want to wait any longer, but fate has different plans for you.
Harry’s phone starts buzzing in his pocket breaking the moment, though neither of you are eager to acknowledge it and pull back, but when it doesn’t stop, Harry grunts against your lips and reaches into his pocket with an annoyed frown. You attempt to climb off his lap, but his free hand is quick to grab onto your waist and pull you back.
“No moving,” he warns you before answering the call. “Mum? It’s not a good ti–” he starts, but Anne cuts him off.
“Harry, be patient with her, okay?” you hear her voice in the quiet. Harry’s eyes snap up to meet yours as he answers.
“I am. Well, not right now,” he cheekily says referring to the situation the two of you are in at the moment and you can barely bite a giggle back. 
“Right now is what matters!” Anne sighs. “Listen, I talked to her and she is–”
“Mum.” This time Harry is the one interrupting. “Now is not a good time. We are actually smoothing things out with Y/N, like, right now.”
There’s a silence in the call while Harry is eyeing you with hunger and passion, his free hand relentlessly massaging your hips, waist and thighs.
“Oh… Oh! Great! I’ll get out of your hair then. Come by tomorrow to tell me everything!”
“Are you sure you want to hear everything?” Harry chuckles and you smack his chest playfully, giving him a hard look, but it quickly turns into a smile.
“Oh you wanker!”
“Bye mum!” he laughs, ending the call and letting the phone drop to the cushion next to him before eagerly returning all of his attention to you. “Now, where were we?”
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“Get those in order, right now!” Your voice beams through the hallway as you’re jogging to Harry’s dressing room, the whole backstage buzzing from the show that just ended minutes ago. You have a looser schedule since you’re only leaving in the late afternoon tomorrow, but you want everything to be ready in time as usual. 
Questions are thrown at you on your way by different crew members and you have an answer to all of them because you are probably the only person around here who knows everything, even the stuff that’s not even your responsibility to take care of. 
Reaching his dressing room you walk in without knocking, a habit that’s not new, you used to come and go even before you started sharing a bed with the star of the show. 
“You have about…” you start, checking the time on your phone, “ten minutes to get ready so we can get going,” you announce as you walk in, expecting him to be running around in his underwear, either about to shower or freshly out of the shower, because usually that’s the state you find him.
Not this time though.
Surprisingly, he is already dressed, his things are packed, ready to leave.
“We can get going, but not where you’d think,” he smirks at you, grabbing his backpack as he walks over to you, stealing a quick kiss.
“Huh?” you narrow your eyes at him.
“Come on, we have somewhere to be.”
Confusion etches onto your face as he takes your hand and starts pulling you out of the building, to the parking lot, but he doesn’t head to the car, instead the two of you are walking over to the sports center that’s right next to the arena he has just performed at.
“Harry? Where are we going?” you ask with a nervous laughter.
“No questions, it’s a surprise,” he smirks.
The building is closed, it’s quite late at night, but he just simply walks up to the entrance and you spot a security guard there who unlocks the door for you without hesitation. 
“Good evening,” Harry greets the man. 
“Good evening. Everything is ready for you,” the man nods with a smirk.
“Thank you so much.”
“Are you going to murder me? If you want to get rid of me you should just fire me and break up with me,” you mumble, but he just laughs at your comment.
“I’m never getting rid of you, baby,” he says, kissing your temple as the two of you turn the corner. 
And slowly, you realize what is about to happen.
“Harry? Is this…” you breathe out, the two of you approaching an ice rink.
“It is,” he chuckles, squeezing your hand as he pulls you over a bench that has two pairs of ice-skates waiting for you. “I know I’m not a parent, it won’t be a good childhood memory, but it can still be a nice experience. Learning how to skate.”
You’re touched by the thought and the gesture. It’s been almost two months since that one time back in England when you blurted out how you were never taught to skate. He remembered and he is now eager to turn it into a nice experience rather than a bitter part of your childhood.
“It’s gonna be a lot better,” you smile at him, curling your arms around his neck before kissing his rosy lips. “Thank you.”
“Am I doing this no heartbreak thing right?” he smirks, wrapping his arms around you tightly.
“You’re doing it perfectly.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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flwoie · 6 months
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꒰ TEASER ꒱ WHY I LOVE YOU — WANG YIXIANG
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─────── ❛ I USED TO BE A COLD GUY BUT NOW I WORRY ABOUT YOU ALL THE TIME ❜
IN WHICH YOU AND NICHOLAS ARE THE ROMCOMEDIC RELIEF SIDE CHARACTERS IN A SITCOM
SUMMARY. New school year means new people. Lucky for you, you befriended a new girl who moved here from the other side of the world. What you didn't expect was that she happened to befriend your old friend group from junior high—accidentally reviving it. Not only did your friend group come back, but you pining on Nicholas did, who just happens to be a part of that group of friends.
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STARRING. friend! nicholas x f! reader
GENRE. romcom, friends to idiots to lovers, very very SMALL angst, 2000s disney sitcom au, highschool au, mutual pining, hates everyone but you trope, inspo by svt’s mansae, set in 2000s japan, more will be stated in full fic
CONTAINS. 14+, profanities, nicholas is a truant, a smoker and he’s kinda a hypocrite in the full fic, more will be stated in full fic
TEASER WORD COUNT. 361 | EST. WORD COUNT 5k-10k
SONA SPEAKING. hi guys don’t mind me just posting this cause it’s clogging up my drafts 🥸
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S1, EP2, SCENE 15 — ❝THE STARS THAT LEAD US THROUGH THE DARKEST MOMENTS OF LIFE ARE OUR FRIENDS❞
As you pushed the button on the ATM, you waited until it dispensed five ¥1,000 banknotes. You just came back from the flower arrangement club, and it being two hours was a waste of time as they were differentiating types of flowers, which wore you out and left you starving. Luckily, there was a food stand a few blocks away, so you quickly made an errand to the bank to withdraw a few bills. You grabbed the banknotes and left the bank, heading to where the food stand was.
After what seemed like half an hour of walking and attempting to find the food stand, you finally found it, a few meters away from you. You can already smell the warm seafood, making you more famished. Going up to the vendor, he greets you as you look at the choices.
“Just one tempura skewer, please!” The vendor grabs a skewer and hands it to you. Before you could give him the money, someone had already beat you to it.
“Make those two, please,” he requests as the vendor takes it from him. Looking up, Nicholas beams as you two walk away from the stand, heading to a bench.
"Thanks; you didn’t have to pay for me, though,” you assured me as you sat down. You notice the small bouquet he placed on the floor. “What’s with the flowers?” you ask.
“Oh, that? They were for my date, but she ditched me for some other guy,” he says.
You scoffed, “Her loss, you deserve someone willing to spend time with you."
He grins at your words, looking down at his skewer, and mutters a ‘thanks’ before he asks, “What are you doing out here?”
“Flower arrangement club. It was so boring that I got hungry,” you say, proceeding to bite into a tempura.
“Shit, that was today?”
“You’re in the club?” He nods. “That’s funny; I thought you were the type to join a sports club.”
“Hey, I think arranging flowers is a therapeutic hobby!” he deflected. You chuckle and notice that he hasn’t taken a bite of his food.
“Sure it is—now eat what you paid for,” you added, reminding him.
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anxiousstark · 6 months
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The Heat of Each Season | E. M
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Eddie x Fem!reader
Warnings: S.Ex: p in v, blow!ob, p.ssy eating, unprotected sxx (this is a fic, people. Be intelligent). C:ckwarm:ng. Publ!c s$x. Whipped cream. Vulgar vocabulary. And let me know if I forgot something. No mentions of body type, race, hair or eye colour. I MADE THAT BANNER FOR MY BLOG FOR THE +18. I'M PROUD. I'M PROUD OF BOTH EDITS HERE, OKAY??? Hope you like them too.
Word Count: 10K.
All Rights Reserved. The author, me, does not allow any type of copy or adaption.
BIG MASTERLIST
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SPRING
The touch of the sun's gentle rays stirred goosebumps on Eddie's arms, creating an otherworldly sensation of quiet comfort. As the sun's intimate presence made him yawn, he closed his eyes in bliss and stretched his arms towards the sky, attempting to shake off the encroaching weariness. His t-shirt rode up, allowing the sun to kiss his belly, igniting a warm, tingling sensation that coursed through his body.
"Done!" If he hadn't known it was his girlfriend speaking, the angelic voice that reached his ears might have seemed like a delightful illusion on this beautiful April day.
Kneeling a few feet away, you carefully arranged a white blanket on the lush grass. Your face radiated the broadest smile he had ever seen, and your hair and eyes sparkled even more brilliantly under the magnificent sunlight.
Eddie's attention was captivated by your presence. You looked stunning in your white sundress, giving the impression of a fairy or, with the right accessories, a charming pirate. The sundress gracefully ended just above your mid-thigh, with short puffy sleeves that added a touch of playfulness.
One of your dearest wishes had always been to share a picnic in a picturesque field with Eddie, complete with a basket of delicious food and a cake. Eddie had gone to great lengths to fulfil your wish, asking his friends for recommendations on idyllic picnic spots. However, their initial response was laughter, as they struggled to picture Eddie in such a colourful, romantic setting. But deep down, everyone knew that when it came to you, Eddie was willing to make the extraordinary happen.
"Are you hungry?" Eddie's gaze almost had to shield itself from your radiance as you looked up at him. "I've brought a feast." You remained kneeling on the white blanket, and your wooden basket rested nearby as you began to unveil its contents. Eddie was indeed famished, but not just for food.
He hummed with delight, sitting down not too far from you, unable to resist the magnetic pull of your presence. His ringed hand gently found its place on your bare leg, and as he noticed your subtle reaction, a mischievous smirk crept onto his lips. "What delectable treasures have you brought?"
"Strawberries, cherries, croissants," You recited as his thumb, drawing gentle circles on your leg, sent shivers through your skin, and he sensed your deep breath. "Blueberries and pineapple." All the fruits had been meticulously cleaned and chopped before you embarked on your picnic adventure.
"Sounds delicious," Eddie said, shifting closer and parting his lips. He wordlessly conveyed his desire for a strawberry, and you obliged, placing one in his mouth. With intention, he allowed his lips to graze your fingers, and the tip of his tongue traced the path of the strawberry into his mouth. After a moment of savouring the fruity delight, he inquired, "What about the cake?"
"I bought one!" Eddie was well aware that you had taken care of the cake, securing it in his van to ensure it remained pristine during the journey. "It's a strawberry cake with whipped cream and fresh strawberries on top," you added, your eyes shimmering even brighter. Eddie wondered how an angel like you could have fallen for a man like him, but he considered himself fortunate and committed to cherishing you forever.
"Sounds amazing." Eddie's posture exuded calm confidence, which, in turn, made you squirm in your seat. The nervousness you had felt on your first date with him seemed to resurface, making it a challenge to meet his gaze.
"I have another surprise." Eddie's eyes widened slightly as his free hand, the one not touching you, selected a couple of blueberries and popped them into his mouth, inadvertently making a sour face, most likely after encountering a tart one.
You shifted your weight, retrieving a small rucksack you had brought along. Eddie grumbled playfully as his hand slid off your leg. "Look!" You laid out the items you had prepared, and Eddie, initially puzzled, quickly realised what you meant. "I asked Dustin for advice on creating my D&D character."
Eddie erupted into laughter. "No way!" He had been meaning to create a character for you for a long time, especially since you'd been with him at Hellfire Club, observing everyone else playing. He had wanted to involve you but was always too nervous to ask. Now, finally, you were going to be part of it. Even though there might be some protests from others about him assisting you, he was sure it would happen.
"What do you think?" Your grin widened as you saw Eddie's delighted reaction. He, however, didn't respond with words. Instead, he leaned in, forcing you to rest on your elbows as he kissed you passionately, his weight resting on top of you; lips pressed together. "I thought about being a Kenku?"
His imagination quickly conjured an image of those creatures—hideous, selfish, and driven by greed for riches and power. It didn't seem right for you. "What about an Aasimar?" You frowned, unsure if you had heard of it before or simply couldn't recall. "They have celestial heritage." A flush crept up your cheeks, reminding you of the angelic nickname Eddie had given you. Eddie proceeded to explain more about Aasimars, and the choice became clear. "All right now," Eddie said, shifting about and grabbing a set of dice. "We use these dice to determine the outcomes of actions and events." He pulled out a twenty-sided die, a d20, and displayed it to you.
Once your character was created, you both reclined on the blanket. Eddie explained some game elements that you had already picked up from watching him play.
He stretched out on his back, his left arm behind his head, basking in the sun with his eyes closed. As you lay on top of him, your body seemed to meld with his; your head resting on his chest, your hand tracing his pectoral, and one of your legs intertwining with his.
"This feels like heaven," Eddie said, his chest expanding as he inhaled deeply. Your proximity allowed you to feel the comforting warmth of the sun above you. Eddie's body felt even warmer as you lay on top of him, his arm curved around you, gently massaging your back. "I never thought I could enjoy the sunlight so much." His words prompted a laugh from you; he sounded like a vampire. "But it feels healing." Indeed, it did. Your stomachs were content, and the sun seemed to cleanse your spirits.
You shifted your head away from Eddie's chest, supporting your weight on your elbows as you gazed at him. His eyes were closed, his long eyelashes casting delicate shadows on his cheekbones, resembling the graceful legs of a spider.
A faint blush tinged Eddie's cheeks, evidence that the sun, though less potent than in summer, had managed to kiss him with its warmth. You realised you'd forgotten to remind him to wear sunscreen or, better yet, to apply it to his face.
Your left hand tenderly swept away the errant locks from his brow, evoking a delighted moan at your soothing touch. Your fingertips caressed his cheeks, their soft strokes like a gentle caress.
Eddie had an inexplicable notion that his cheeks were slightly too round and that they might look better if they weren't. It puzzled you how he could entertain such a thought, as you cherished every aspect of him just as it was. In truth, you found his cheeks utterly endearing and didn't believe they needed any alterations.
The hand that had been stroking his cheek gently cupped it. A tingling sensation coursed through Eddie as he felt your breath brushing against the corner of his mouth. A shadow shielded him from the sun, heightening the anticipation of your face drawing nearer. As your lips met his, his hand descended to your lower back.
The kiss was a slow, passionate dance. Your lips tenderly moistened Eddie's lower lip before playfully nipping at it. He sighed contentedly, eyes closed, unable to resist wrapping his other arm around you. Both hands squeezed your hips firmly through the soft fabric of your white sundress, drawn into the captivating rhythm of your languid kiss.
The kiss gradually intensified as tongues joined in, a harmonious exchange of warmth and desire. There was no battle for dominance, only an insatiable longing to explore each other's mouths and taste each other's warmth and shared passion.
What could anyone possibly dislike about Eddie? You could never get enough of him, never be too close, never be too pressed against his warmth. And, in truth, he felt the same. If it were possible, he would envelop himself in your presence for all eternity.
Eddie unconsciously widened his legs, allowing your lower body to fit snugly between them. As the kiss intensified, an involuntary rhythm developed, and both of you caught up in the magnetic pull of desire.
He pulled you closer to him, his legs parting slightly and his hips instinctively moving in response to the mounting desire, his fingers lightly crinkling the fabric of your dress. He was ready and eager to take control and explore your desires in more profound ways. He intended to see you flushed, your voice pleading for his name. But just as he was about to flip you over, you broke the kiss.
"Let's have some cake," you said, separating your bodies. In seconds, he found himself gazing at the sky, somewhat bewildered. "C'mon, Eddie!"
He sat up, making a conscious effort to quell the urgency stirring within him. He didn't want to give the impression that something was amiss, despite the intense moment you had just shared. As he rose to sit on the picnic blanket, his attention was momentarily drawn to the sight of your bare back, and he couldn't help but notice the alluring way his hands had ruffled your dress, causing it to slip slightly and revealing a teasing glimpse of underboob. He noted that you weren't wearing a bra; the strategically placed pads on the dress ensured that your nipples remained discreet beneath the fabric.
Eddie's heart raced even faster, his body cold and slightly sweaty as he wrestled with his inner impulses. Nevertheless, his left hand's fingers strayed to delicately graze your underboob through the exposed part of your dress at the back. His finger gradually rose, cupping your breast with a gentle squeeze.
You let out a quiet groan, your eyes briefly closing before reopening as Eddie's touch ignited a passionate response. "Eddie," you whispered, almost pleadingly. When you glanced over your shoulder, you noticed that his gaze was fixed on the area he was exploring. "The cake," you reminded him, bringing the focus back to the original intention of your picnic.
"Fuck the cake, angel." His other hand reached your other side, cupping your breasts and squeezing them so hard that he drove your body towards his. Your back met his chest. "You look more appetising." His comments were followed by his tongue licking, sucking, and biting on one of the sides of your neck.
Your glance darted about, checking to see whether there were any other people around. But, even though it was a lovely setting, you were the only ones there. "What if someone comes here?"
"No one will." His mouth climbed, softly nibbling your earlobe and tugging on it with his teeth.
Your head dropped back, resting on one of his shoulders, as he kept licking and nibbling as his hands squeezed, forcing your breasts together, apart, and in circles. Eddie adored your chest. Size didn't matter to him; all that mattered was that they were yours and lovely.
And you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. You were drenched.
"Ride me." He'd stopped nibbling your ear to mumble those words, and his hands had dropped, now fiddling with the hem of your panties. "We don't even have to take off all of our clothes." His fingers slid into your underwear, stroking your clit once and making you moan. "I know you want it as well. I can smell you, and I know you'll be wet if I go any further down." He didn't wait for an answer before doing precisely what he stated, searching for the pool between your legs.
"Gosh, Eddie." Your eyes were already moving to the back of your skull. His words, touch, and hip pushing upwards were all compelling. "Uh," the sound came from between your lips as you immediately straddled him, causing his hands to fall from your breasts to your bare thighs, the dress slipping up owing to the position you two were in.
"Which panties are you wearing?"
"Simple white ones."
"Perfect." Eddie's tongue flew out of his mouth, licking his bottom lip, and in an instant, he yanked your underwear off you from one side, the other loosely hanging over your left thigh but allowing him the access he craved.
"Eddie, what the..." He didn't respond or glance at you as his hands moved quickly—really quickly—to remove his trousers and underwear. And he was already erect, the tip crimson, and ready to drop a pearl of cum.
"Ride me, baby." His voice quivered with urgency, and any further delay in reaching the exact location he desired would likely lead to him breaking down in tears. "Please." As his gaze shifted, his attention was captured by his hands firmly grasping your hips, deftly gathering your dress, and at last, my lord, granting him the long-awaited sight of you bare. Eddie didn't mind that you were gleaming and shaven. He adored everything you did down there. Sometimes you had a bush, sometimes you trimmed it, and sometimes you let it bare.
You placed your hands gently on his shoulders as your gaze followed his, and without hesitation, you positioned yourself atop him. Your right hand shifted to his shaft, holding it, squeezing it slightly, and causing him to gasp before pressing his tip against your clit. You were dizzy just from his flesh on yours. "Put it inside, c'mon, angel." Eddie urged you.
As you descended, a magnificent symphony of emotions and sensations blossomed within you, his cock pulsating inside you as you took in all of him. Eddie was slender and long, with a small curvature that appeared to strike your sweet spot. Nevertheless, he comprehended precisely how to respond to your body's cues.
You were poised to shift your position with your knees on the ground, but Eddie's grasp on your hips tightened. "Hold on." His sparkling eyes refocused on you, and he couldn't resist planting a tender kiss on your lips. "Just give me a moment, or I'll lose control right away." You couldn't help but smile at his words, savouring the influence you had over him, mirroring the effect he had on you. "Tits."
You swiftly lowered the top of your dress, uncovering your chest while still wearing your sleeves. Eddie attached his lips to your right nipple and began to suck on it, and as his tongue left it to attend to your left one, he gave you the signal to begin moving.
And so, you acted upon your desire. Your lips parted, but no words escaped. His mouth also opened, granting greater access to your left breast.
"Gosh." You could feel his robustness, warmth, and even the little veins that adorned his shaft. "I feel so full."
Your initial encounters had been characterized by timidity. The first two times you shared this intimate connection, you were both inexperienced, bashful, and awkward. However, by the third encounter, the dynamics had drastically changed. You had become inseparable, insatiable, and brimming with a multitude of desires and experiments you longed to explore together.
Eddie let out a low, guttural groan and closed his eyes, allowing his back to fully recline against the ground as you continued riding him. Because of your position, you were able to move your hips sensually and hard. Eddie's hands naturally returned to your hips, as your own gently settled on his chest.
Your soft whimpers compelled him to open his eyes, anticipating a flushed expression, but what he found exceeded his expectations. Your brow was glistening with sweat, and your hair clung to it, adding to the intensity of the moment. As you bounced on him, your eyes closed and your lips parted as petite whimpers abandoned you while your tits bounced in an addicting and hypnotic manner. The sun had dipped just slightly, casting a wonderful light upon your back, creating the illusion of a radiant halo enveloping your entire form. It was as if you were an angel descended from the highest reaches of heaven. Or perhaps, in Eddie's mind, you were Lucifer's favoured, sent to beckon him into the depths of Hell. Truth be told, Eddie didn't need much convincing. A simple word from you was all it took.
"Fuck, sweetheart. You look stunning." You were ruining him, wrapping your arms around him, and dripping on his balls. He was going insane. "Does it feel good, angel?" His hands rose once again, both squeezing your nipples. "I can't have my angel not feeling like she is back in heaven." You let out a loud moan and your motions grew frenetic. "Of course, sweetheart, use me. Use me to blow yourself up. Make use of me to obtain what you desire." 
"Fuck, Eddie. Please, more."
He chuckled, sweating as well. "Do you want more? What exactly do you want me to tell you?" You spoke, but it sounded like unintelligible gibberish to him. "Do you want me to tell you that I'm insane right now? That if it meant being buried within you for the rest of my life, I would surrender my soul to whomever? That I'm holding myself back so I don't pound you down because I want you to come first?" Eddie's right hand instantly ditched your right breast to hold the hair on the back of your head, forcing you to look at him. "That I can't wait to unleash my load in you?"
"Please, Eddie. Please don't hold back." You seized his cheeks and, momentarily pausing your actions, initiated a passionate, demanding kiss. Your tongue delved into his mouth, leaving him breathless. Eddie allowed this for about two minutes before impatience overtook him, and he couldn't resist the urge to be more assertive and respond in kind.
Eddie had your back in seconds and grasped your hips so tightly that you were certain it would leave marks. "Fuck yeah." His thrusts were relentless, full, and brutal. In that intense moment, you questioned whether you were quivering or if the entire world was trembling along with you.
Sensing him within you, the touch of his skin against yours, even though it was slick with sweat, transported you to another realm. It wasn't until several minutes later that you became aware of something sticky on your back, causing you to chuckle. "Shit, Eddie."
Upon hearing your giggle, his gaze seemed to momentarily break away from the euphoria you were both sharing, only to unveil something white on your shoulders and in your hair. He had accidentally smeared cake on you.
Eddie grinned at the scene, but his thrusts continued unabated. He spotted the crushed cake beneath your right shoulder and quickly scooped up a small piece, playfully bringing it to your lips. "Open." He gently nudged your lips with his knuckles, causing the piece of cake to slide into your mouth. "Is it good?" Your lips encircled his fingertips, your tongue twirling around the cream and sucking his fingers clean. "Is it?" His second query was accompanied by him burying himself deeply and viciously in you because you had not answered his initial query. A strong push.
"Fuck yeah." Your back arched, enabling him even more access than seemed conceivable. "It's so good, Eddie." The cake and him banging you.
He laughed, and the hand that had placed the cake in your mouth took another piece, spreading it on your breasts. His face then neared them, licking and sucking you clean. "Mmmh, best cake I've ever tried." He then licked his hand clean of any cake remnants and swiftly let that hand drop to your clit, stroking it with his fingers. The sensation of the rings added a hint of coolness and a subtle edge to the mix, enhancing the overall pleasure.
"I'm so close." You groaned, your hands grasping and toying with your chest. "Oh my God, Eddie. Oh, Eddie, please." Your whimpers grew louder, evolving into unintelligible sounds of pleasure. The intensity of your arousal was so overwhelming that it felt as though you were on the brink of losing consciousness.
You were soon fluttering around him, achieving your intended climax, and Eddie continued thrusting as you hit your peak. His hand then left your clit after ensuring your satisfaction and curled around you, and his hip motions got sloppy. "Shiiit." The climax seemed to stretch on as his breathy words brushed your ear. He could sense your climax washing over him, and with a low, guttural grunt, he joined you, a burst of light flickering across his vision as your fluids and his intermingled. He then collapsed on top of you, and your hands slipped beneath his shirt to tenderly stroke his back, both of you overcome by exhaustion. Meanwhile, his throbbing and pulsating member remained nestled inside you.
Another gasp escaped your lips as your fluids trickled from within you, running down your slit and brushing against Eddie's tightly pressed testicles, nestled against your labia.
His mouth left a mark on the sensitive spot on your neck, a blend of affection and desire. "I hope this picnic was everything you had hoped for."
He planted a tender kiss on your lips, and you replied, still catching your breath. "It was even better than I imagined."
"I love you," he whispered, affirming his feelings.
You smiled. "I love you too."
SUMMER
"Hey, kids, watch out!" Max and Eleven playfully hurled handfuls of sand at Mike, Will, Lucas, and Dustin as soon as they stepped onto the beach. Steve couldn't help but shout, "Did we really think this was a good idea?"
Steve chuckled and scratched his head, scanning the beach to find a suitable spot for the two large beach umbrellas you had brought. "Definitely not."
Jonathan, grinning, pulled off his shirt and gave Nancy a quick kiss before lending Steve a hand with the umbrellas.
Steve's new girlfriend, April, quietly helped Robin and her girlfriend, Vickie, arrange the bags and coolers on the sand.
Eddie, ever the straightforward one, growled as he yanked off his shirt. "I'm not here to babysit. I'm here to swim, roast in the sun, and admire my stunning girlfriend in her new bikini." Robin couldn't help but chuckle at his blunt honesty.
The kids, filled with youthful enthusiasm, sprinted into the water, their laughter and shouts echoing in the warm beach air. It was a delight to watch them revel in carefree joy, with Nancy and Jonathan following suit and Steve and April not far behind. Meanwhile, Robin and Vickie relaxed on a towel in the sunshine, their hushed conversation blending with the sounds of the sea, basking in the golden glow of the setting sun.
Eddie had already changed into his swim trunks and was comfortably settled in a reclining beach chair beneath the shade of one of the beach umbrellas. You, on the other hand, swiftly discarded your skirt, allowing an oversized shirt of Eddie's to drape over you, its hem skimming your mid-thigh.
Concern laced your voice as you asked, "Eddie, did you remember to apply sunscreen?" His squinted eyes, due to the forgotten sunglasses at home, gave you an immediate answer. With a small sigh, you retrieved the sunscreen from your shared beach bag and joined him.
"You're going to get a nasty burn," you warned as you took the sunscreen, squeezing a generous amount into your hand. Eddie's mischievous grin seemed undeterred as you carefully covered his chest and abdomen. Then, you ensured that his back and shoulders received thorough protection.
As Eddie reclined, after positioning himself behind you, you nestled against him, and the soothing sound of ocean waves accompanied the moment. "So, when can I see that new bikini of yours?" Eddie's hands rested on your thighs, tracing gentle circles.
You couldn't help but smile at his eagerness. "You've already seen it. The black one with those tiny red flames on the edges."
Eddie chuckled softly, his voice low and intimate. "It's going to look even better now."
"Why's that?"
"Because the light here is different, and you'll be glistening from the water, and..." Eddie paused momentarily, confirming that Robin and Vickie were still engrossed in their private conversation. With a whisper in your ear, he confessed, "I should stop talking now because I'm going to get hard."
Your gaze met his over your shoulder, a sly smile playing on your lips, and you bit down on your lower lip in response to his words.
"Where are the board games we brought?" Max was the one who disrupted the flirtatious glances exchanged between you and Eddie, with a hint of passion simmering beneath.
Eddie glanced at Max, noticing her shivering from spending too long in the water. Swiftly, he plucked a towel from your shared bag and tossed it her way. Max wrapped it around herself, attempting to quell the chills. "They're probably in Dustin's bag," Eddie nodded in the direction of Dustin's bag, sheltered under one of the umbrellas.
The kids commandeered one of the beach umbrellas, drying off with towels and grabbing sandwiches and drinks, eager to commence their games. Laughter filled the air as Dustin protested loudly about Will's alleged cheating during the games, and then the two acted as if nothing had happened. You and Eddie couldn't help but chuckle along.
"Eds," you turned your head to meet Eddie's gaze, which was already locked on you. "It's getting scorching out here." The unrelenting sunlight and Eddie's embrace, especially with your clothes on, made you sweat. "Should we take a dip in the water?" He nodded and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead.
"Hey, lovebirds." It was amusing that he used the moniker for Robin and Vickie when you were both the same all the time. Occasionally keeping to yourselves and uttering promises and needs that were only for you two. "You coming in the water with us?"
Robin paused for a moment before turning to face both of you. "And leave these kids on their own?"
"Won't be." Jonathan appeared with Nancy under his arm. He instantly grabbed the nearest towel, wrapping her in its softness and warmth before hugging her with his own arms. "We got cold in the water."
Robin's eyes briefly met Vickie's, and with a reassuring smile and a nod from her, you felt encouraged to shed your shirt. As the fabric fell to the sand, Eddie's gaze intensified, his eyes tracing your body as if it were a discovery, despite his intimate knowledge of every contour, every inch, and every possible blemish. The sun's heat may have been scorching, but the intensity of his gaze added a whole new layer of warmth to the moment.
"Shit," Eddie muttered under his breath, his voice thick with desire, as he took a decisive step closer to you. His proximity brought him so close that he was practically nose-to-nose with you. His hands gently cradled your cheeks as he initiated a passionate kiss that seemed to ignite a powerful chemistry between you two.
His lips broke away from yours, and he panted softly, "You better walk in front of me." The heat in his cheeks and the somewhat glazed look in his eyes indicated his heightened arousal. A quick downward glance confirmed your assumption.
"Seriously?" He pouted, clearly struggling to contain his desire, and stomped his right foot in the sand before using his hands to pivot you around by your shoulders, placing you in front of him and concealing his arousal.
Laughter filled the air as Vickie noticed you and Eddie heading towards the water. She playfully elbowed Robin to draw her attention, and the mischievous glint in her eyes sparked some teasing aimed at Eddie. In response, Eddie playfully lifted you and tossed you into the water with a chuckle. You emerged from the water, laughing at him, and then Eddie himself dove in, landing belly-first in a splash right next to Vickie, thoroughly drenching her.
Eddie's next target was Robin, whom he tackled and playfully held underwater until she swiftly elbowed him in a particularly sensitive area. He let out a moan of agony and shot Robin a mock glare while promising some form of retaliation. "Holy fuck," he groaned, his pout and wide eyes failing to earn sympathy.
You, though slightly annoyed at being tossed into the water earlier, couldn't stay mad for long. Eddie flashed a grin that had a magical way of dissipating your anger. He showered you with multiple kisses, successfully diverting your attention from the water incident and leaving you with nothing but a smile.
As you and your friends made your way to where Steve and April were standing, it was evident that they weren't bothered by the slightly cool seawater. Steve and April seemed to be enjoying the beach, and their carefree attitude was contagious.
Vickie, April, Robin, and you engaged in a lively discussion about the plan to rent a couple of cabins in a snowy location for December. This trip was meant exclusively for the older members of your group, with each couple having their own cabin for privacy yet coming together for activities like hiking and snowboarding. The idea had been brewing for several months, and you all were eager to turn it into reality.
Meanwhile, Eddie and Steve were engrossed in various conversations. As you glanced over at the man you loved, who was standing right next to you, you noticed a shiver ripple through his body. It was likely that he was starting to feel the cold from the water.
Quietly, you moved behind Eddie, wrapping your arms around his waist in a tender, comforting hug. You didn't want to interrupt either of the ongoing conversations, so you simply nestled in behind him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.
Your arms enveloped him, and you gently pressed your chest against his back, seeking to calm the occasional shivers that coursed through him. Your forehead found its place in the centre of his back, and you inhaled deeply, savouring the tranquillity of the moment. His familiar scent, mixed with the sea breeze and the aroma of sunscreen, enveloped you, creating a sense of serenity amid the beach's activity.
Eddie's hands moved gently, caressing your arms as he continued his conversation with Steve. He leaned his head back, planting a tender kiss on your forehead, when you stole a glance at him. The affectionate gesture reassured you and made you feel even closer to him.
As the conversation shifted and the girls joined in, Steve's attention was no longer solely on Eddie. When the topic circled back to the idea of renting cabins for the winter, Steve chimed in, sharing that he had been actively researching and reaching out to potential sites. It seemed like the plan for the winter getaway was progressing, and everyone was excited about the prospect of their upcoming adventure.
Your left hand started to gently glide up and down Eddie's stomach, following the trail of hair that led towards his abdomen, while the other fell to the line of his swimwear, ready to slip inside them. You were bored with the talk and feeling somewhat courageous, even though the seawater was covering you up to your chest. Eddie, on the other hand, firmly grasped your hand and gave your wrist a stern squeeze as a warning.
In a hushed tone, you whispered, "Let me, Eds. I know this excites you, and I want to make you feel good." Your words were followed by a subtle nip on his shoulder, emphasizing your desire as you continued, "Let me pleasure you, my love."
After a few seconds, Eddie allowed your hand to slip inside his swimwear with a trembling sigh. Your hand reached him, and the simple brush of your fingertips across his member was enough to harden him.
Eddie cast a furtive glance towards the water, ensuring that your actions remained concealed from onlookers. Despite the limited view from his position, he managed to discern the activities below the surface. A sense of relief washed over him as he shifted his focus towards the others since they couldn't observe anything transpiring underwater.
Eddie nibbled on his lower lip, his breath quickening, as your fingers gently encircled his arousal. Your thumb teasingly caressed the sensitive tip, tracing circular motions before firmly gripping his shaft.
Your grip tightened around him as you sensually moved your hand up and down, desiring to use your other hand to caress his testicles, fully aware that such an action would likely bring Eddie to climax within seconds.
Steve's question abruptly drew Eddie's attention away from the intense pleasure you were providing, heightened by the adrenaline rush of the risky situation he found himself in. "What do you think, Eddie?" Steve reiterated, underscoring his distraction. "Should we hire an instructor to learn how to snowboard or just go freestyle?" Steve inquired, bringing the conversation back to their original topic.
Eddie's body shivered involuntarily from your touch, but with all eyes on him, he skillfully turned the reaction into a nonchalant shrug. "So, how much money are we looking at for the instructor?" he inquired, attempting to steer the conversation towards practical considerations.
"Depends on how many hours we want and the instructor's rates."
"I don't know," Eddie replied, and all the while your hand increased its pace. He gasped, finding it difficult to concentrate with your rapid movements. "I mean, it's not like we'll master it in just two hours, so I'd..." You sped up even more, causing Eddie to lose his train of thought. "I'd say no," he managed to say between breaths, as your actions left him breathless.
Robin gave Eddie a strange look before concurring, "I agree, cabins are already too expensive."
Eddie's voice dropped to a whisper, his head lowered, and his eyes closed. He bit his lower lip, struggling to contain his pleasure as your hand continued its motions. Before long, he began to gasp, and as your second hand slipped into his swimsuit, clutching and gently massaging his testicles, he couldn't help but moan, "Oh, fuck."
"Eddie, are you okay?" Vickie asked, noticing Eddie's downward gaze and his increasingly laboured breath, signalling to you that he was nearing the edge.
He quickly nodded and tried to force a smile, though it came off more like a grimace.
"You're sure?" All the attention was now on him, making him feel uneasy as he felt himself reaching the climax, his hips involuntarily moving underwater.
Eddie struggled to nod again, gasping as he neared his peak. "Yeah, I just..." He gasped once more, and while others thought he might be struggling to breathe or in pain, you knew he was simply attempting to control his emotions and urges. However, he couldn't hold back any longer and succumbed to his pleasure.
Turning to face you, Eddie's gaze locked on the mischievous gleam in your eyes. "You okay, Eds?" you asked, your eyes revealing the truth of the situation.
"You okay, Eds?" Eddie turned to face you, his gaze fixed on the mischievous glimmer in your eyes.
"Yeah, angel," he replied, using a term that conveyed a stark contrast to your recent activities. "It might be the heat. All I need is to get in the van and rest for a few minutes." The others nodded, still concerned about Eddie, but Robin gave you a knowing look, leaving you feeling slightly uncomfortable. "I'll go rest." Eddie gently took your elbow and urged you to accompany him, his grip not painful but playfully mad.
"Need to rest, uh?"
Eddie's hand left your elbow and playfully swatted your buttocks. "Yeah, preferably with you on top of me," he said with a teasing smile.
AUTUMN
"Eddie, why are you still at work?" you asked, dialling the number to the mechanic shop from Steve's house phone in frustration after realising Eddie wasn't at Uncle Wayne's trailer when you called.
The raucous party noise nearly drowned out Eddie's response, prompting you to request him to repeat himself. "Sorry, babe," he shouted over the cacophony, "an old woman had car trouble, and we had to go pick her up and bring the car back to the shop." Although you and Eddie weren't particularly fond of parties, this one was a Halloween costume party, and you both had the perfect outfits for it.
"I'll be there in less than 30 minutes, okay?" You hastily nodded, even though he couldn't see you, and then you hummed to emphasise caution when driving over because it was pitch dark outside. "You too, okay? Don't wander too far from Steve and Robin." Steve typically invited people he knew from school, but some brought their partners and such. Unfortunately, last time, he had invited a girl he knew from class whose boyfriend had tried to put his hands under your shirt when Eddie had briefly gone to the bathroom. Of course, Eddie nearly ended up in a brawl with the guy.
"Is he coming soon?" Steve inquired, casting a proud glance at the meticulously crafted Ghostbusters outfits he and April had worked on for several nights. Their costumes looked fantastic.
"I think so," you replied, having to raise your voice to be heard over the deafening party and music. "He had some trouble at the store."
Steve's eyes widened in astonishment. "He's working today?" You quickly nodded and explained that an elderly woman was having car trouble and needed immediate assistance.
"Alright," Steve said, accepting the explanation. "April and I will grab some drinks and find a place to sit. You're joining us, right?" It was then that you noticed April, who was practically glued to Steve's side, giving you a charming grin. You quickly returned the smile.
You nodded in response to Steve's invitation, immediately following them while chatting with April about your outfit. "I love it so much," you admitted, your confidence bolstered by Eddie's compliments. Any doubts you had about your appearance seemed to vanish into thin air.
You were dressed as the final girl, the survivor in horror films who manages to escape the killer. Your costume consisted of tattered denim pants and a shirt Eddie was about to discard due to bleach stains. You had carefully created wounds here and there, splattering fake blood all over your arms and clothes. To complete the look, you carried a fake knife with you. Eddie, on the other hand, was going to be dressed as the murderer, making your costumes a darkly intriguing pair.
You couldn't wait to see Eddie in his Ghostface costume, and you felt a bit guilty for confessing that something about Ghostface made you feel an unusual surge of excitement, making you clench your thighs, bite your bottom lip, and flutter your eyelids like a fucking character in a cartoon.
Eddie still hadn't arrived at the party when you finished a drink in leisurely swallows. You used it as an excuse to sneak away from the crowded room. However, given that you didn't know many people at the party, you decided to ask April if she'd accompany you to the bathroom. Steve tagged along, declaring he'd wait in the corridor to keep an eye on April while she waited by the bathroom door, ensuring no one entered since the lock was broken.
You completed your business in the restroom and began washing your hands when the bathroom door swung open, revealing yet another person dressed as Ghostface — you'd already seen a couple of others in similar costumes during the night.
"What the-," you started to exclaim when you locked eyes with April from outside the restroom. Your eyes widened, and your mouth fell open as she had a mischievous smile on her face, which left you utterly perplexed until you took a closer look at the person standing in front of you.
He was wearing Ghostface's mask, but his outfit set him apart from the others. It had been meticulously shredded to resemble a satanic symbol, exposing portions of his chest and abdomen smeared in fake blood. You immediately recognized some of your boyfriend's tattoos peeking through the torn fabric, confirming your suspicions. "Eddie?" Your gaze dropped to his hands, and even though his distinctive rings were there, you would have recognized him without them. "When did you arrive?"
Eddie swiftly lifted his mask, confirming what you already knew, and just as quickly lowered it again. "Just now," he replied, affecting a raspier voice. "You did this to me," he added, pointing to his chest with a theatrical gesture. Then he wedged a small piece of bathroom decor against the door to keep it locked, effectively blocking anyone from entering. Eddie moved closer to you.
You couldn't see his face behind the mask, but you could sense a threatening yet slightly amused and mischievous expression in his posture. "Hello, angel," he said, making you take a step back, your lower back hitting the bathroom sink as he advanced in slow motion. He now had a voice changer. "Do you like scary movies?" His eerie appearance sent shivers down your spine. "What's your favorite scary movie?" He leaned in closer. "You're not scared, are you?"
You shook your head slightly, looking down at his chest one last time, even though you were indeed feeling a mix of terror and adrenaline. "You did this to me," he repeated, pointing to his chest. "Trying to escape from me, so it's only fair I punish you, right?" You could only manage a shrug, your lips dry from the intense arousal Eddie's act had stirred in you. "You really thought you could escape from me, my little angel?"
"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling.
He made a disapproving sound with his mouth. "That's not what I taught you, angel." Shaking his head, he allowed his fake knife to graze your jawline.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Ghostface," you continued, playing along with the macabre charade. He chuckled, and with a nod of his head, he indicated that you should continue. "Please spare my life."
"You know what to do then."
You did.
Within seconds, you found yourself on the ground, fortunate that your pants provided a cushion for your knees as your right hand clasped Eddie's dick. Your hand moved with a leisurely and languid grace, while you gazed at him with innocent eyes. His silence was palpable, his lower lip clearly caught between his teeth as he observed you intently.
"I can't see your other hand, angel." As his deep, modified voice whispered to you, your other hand quickly made its way to his testicles, delicately massaging them so as not to give him too much pleasure.
"Like this, Mr. Ghostface?"
He shook his head, and that simple gesture conveyed his clear discontent. "This isn't how I taught you." He thrust his hips forward. "Mouth." It was difficult not to squirm around, enthralled by the scenario. Your tongue came out to leave a path of saliva around the head after your mouth placed a delicate kiss on the tip. "That's what I meant." His gloved hand ended up on the back of your head, fingers gripping your hair as he pushed himself into your mouth, causing you to gasp and your eyes to widen. "Mmmh, just like that." You hollowed your cheeks, hoping to pump up the sensation.
His other hand also settled behind your head, drawing you closer to him and restraining you from pursuing the desired rhythm. He was exerting pressure, insisting that you match his preferred pace. The one who was driving him insane and making him want to burrow himself deep inside you
Eddie believed you were stunning, and even while on your knees, wearing torn, blood-smeared clothing and tears glistening in your eyes, you appeared angelic.
"Get up." He hadn't come because he didn't want to. No, not yet. Gently, his hand made contact with your cheek, signaling for you to stand up from your prone position. "Hands on the bathroom sink, eyes on the mirror. Now." You followed his instructions, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror with Eddie, also known as Mr. Ghostface, standing behind you.
"Please." Your voice was barely a whisper, but it sent shivers down Eddie's spine because it carried an unmistakable desperation, and that desperation was all about him. It revealed the depth of your desire for him, making him feel reassured that he had ignited a passion in you as intense as the one he felt.
"Please, what, angel?" He was acutely aware of your desires. His fingers deftly worked on the hem of your jeans, unbuttoning them effortlessly without diverting his gaze, and he continued to unzip them while waiting for your response. "I don't remember you having your tongue cut." As both of his hands held the hem, he lowered your jeans until they were at your ankles. "I'm waiting."
"Please." He met your gaze in the mirror, grateful for the mask concealing his face, as his hair clung to his brow, and his cheeks flushed a deep crimson, not because of his outfit, but due to the intense heat he was experiencing in that moment. This roleplaying thing was amazing, especially watching you so desperate while completely forgetting you were at a party. He was immersed. "Please, fuck me." You had spoken similar words countless times, yet each time, a sense of shyness washed over you. It made you feel hesitant until you gained confidence and continued to repeat them.
"Is that what you want?" You hastily nodded in response to his query. "Fuck that, then. Who am I to refuse such a thing to a lovely woman like you?" His hands moved quickly, causing your panties to come to a halt in the same place as your jeans. "You want it fast and hard, don't you? There is no time for foreplay." His remarks nearly made you sob. "And you know what? You can let all those pretty sounds come out because the music is loud and no one will hear you getting wrecked." You agreed again, hoping you could see his body but being turned on by the fact that he was going to fuck you while disguised as if he were Ghostface. "Are you going to scream for me?"
Although you couldn't see his body, the frantic movements of his right hand revealed that he was dropping his trousers and underwear. His other hand firmly gripped your hip, as if he needed the support to stay upright. For a brief moment, Ghostface seemed to transform into the persona of Eddie. "Did you go back to taking the pill, angel?" His voice was unsteady yet pleasant, serving as a poignant reminder that the man behind the mask was the one you loved, intensifying the charged atmosphere between you two.
"Yes." You mumbled in response, overwhelmed by his reminder that you had discontinued taking those medications due to unpleasant side effects. Thankfully, you had found alternatives that worked perfectly without causing you any discomfort.
Eddie was soon deep inside you, not even allowing you to acclimatise to him as he began snapping his hips. His hands were firmly entwined with yours, gripping, squeezing, and quite possibly leaving imprints to serve as a lasting reminder of this memorable day for a while.
"We have to be quick, angel." His thrusts were so forceful that you could see yourself bouncing around in the mirror. Eddie fucking you from behind was incredibly hot. "Our friends already know we are here and if we take long they are going to know I'm wrecking you in this bathroom." Your only answer was a guttural groan. "Do you like that? Won't you be flustered when we come out?"
"Please, Eddie. Go faster."
He chuckled, surprised. "Faster, angel?" "Would you like me to nail you in the sink?" His language was vulgar, yet it had you captivated. Truth be told, even though it had only been a few minutes, you were both so close. "Are you going to walk around the party with my cum inside of you?" His question was jarring, and the way his left hand firmly held your chin, compelling you to maintain eye contact with your own reflection, even as your head hung low, eyes shut and lips agape, was equally unsettling. "Fuck, I'm coming."
Amidst your moans and his grunts, the loud banging on the door intruded upon your intimacy.
For the two of you, it felt like only moments had passed when in reality the knocks had persisted for minutes, prompting Eddie and you to undertake the walk of shame out of the restroom. He quickly removed the mask and handed it to you, wearing a proud smirk, his cheeks flushed, and his face and forehead glistening with perspiration. And you, hot behind the mask, with damp, warm panties, accompanied him, equally flushed with the intensity of the moment.
Steve complained for months, knowing you two had fucked in his bathroom.
WINTER
The bone-chilling cold persisted as you and Eddie returned to the cosy cabin you had rented for your winter getaway with your friends.
It was truly astonishing to witness Eddie's rapid progress in learning snowboarding over just a few hours, impressing you and the rest of the group with his graceful movements. His motions on the snowboard were almost hypnotic as he effortlessly carved through the snow, sending powdery plumes into the air as he descended the mountain. You all watched in awe as he executed spins and jumps, finding it hard to believe that Eddie Munson had such skill in a physical sport, even surprising himself.
In contrast, your own experience on the slopes proved to be more challenging. The hills and mountains presented a formidable opponent, and you found yourself spending a considerable amount of time on your backside. Eddie reacted to each mishap with a good-natured smile and a helping hand. Despite numerous falls, he remained patient, encouraging, and unwavering in his support, making the experience both exhilarating and memorable. On the other hand, Steve struggled just as much as you did, unable to stay on his feet for more than a couple of minutes. However, while you had Eddie's encouragement, Steve received nothing but sarcastic chuckles from your boyfriend, who relished outperforming him, likely because Steve had expressed such confidence in his snowboarding abilities on the way to the mountain.
The day of snowboarding had left both of you utterly exhausted and drenched to the bone. Your clothes were sodden, and the cold had penetrated deep into your bones. As you approached the cabin, Eddie gallantly held the door open for you, allowing you to step inside first. His warm smile and the genuine affection in his eyes were enough to melt your heart. He leaned in for a soft, tender kiss on your forehead, his lips a stark contrast to your chilled skin, sending delightful shivers down your spine this time.
Once inside the cabin, Eddie sprang into action. Without any hesitation, he headed to the small living room, where a rustic fireplace awaited. The room exuded a cosy, rustic charm with its wooden beams, soft rug, and a wide, inviting couch that promised relaxation and warmth. Eddie knelt down, and you followed suit, carefully arranging logs in the fireplace and positioning the kindling just right. His hands worked with confidence, and soon, the fire came to life, casting a flickering, welcoming glow on the cabin walls.
"Oh my goodness," you exclaimed, relieved to see the flames dancing and hopeful that they would soon warm your chilled bodies.
"Come here," Eddie said, seated on the ground in front of the fireplace. As you sat down in front of him, he gently removed your gloves, taking your hands in his freezing ones and rubbing them together as he drew closer to the fire. "Feeling any better?"
"I'm still freezing," you replied, and Eddie chuckled, nodding in agreement as you both shared a laugh.
"Let's get out of these wet clothes." With those words, he swiftly began removing his own attire, without hesitation and without even bothering with his underwear. You followed suit, and Eddie fetched a thick, warm blanket from the couch, draping it over both of you.
The increasing warmth from the fire provided a striking contrast to the cold that had chilled you earlier. Gradually, the room filled with the gentle glow of the flames, dispelling the chill and replacing it with a comforting and serene atmosphere. With its wooden interior, soft lighting, and the crackling warmth from the fire, the cabin became the perfect haven for two weary, wet snowboarders seeking refuge from the winter's cold embrace.
Eddie and you sat together, naked beneath the large, cosy blanket, while the fire crackled and radiated its comforting warmth throughout the cabin. The juxtaposition between the roaring flames and the tranquil intimacy of the cabin was striking. The weariness from the day's skiing adventure had finally caught up with both of you, and the silence between you was occasionally broken by the crackling and hissing of the logs.
You felt the soothing heat of the fire seeping into your chilled bodies as you nestled close to one another. Eddie's arms encircled you in a loving and protective embrace. The blanket enveloped you both, shielding you from the last remnants of cold on your skin. The closeness and shared warmth acted as a balm for your tired bodies and weary spirits.
At this moment, there was no need for words; the tranquil stillness said it all. The day's adventures had been exhilarating, but now it was time to relax and rejuvenate. You both leaned in, finding solace in your shared experiences and the simple joy of each other's company. The only sounds within the cabin were the gentle rise and fall of your chests as you breathed in unison and the subtle crackling of the fire, creating a serene and intimate atmosphere.
Eddie and you decided to recline in front of the fireplace on the soft rug. The plush surface cradled your exhausted bodies, offering a serene place to unwind after a thrilling day.
While lying there, you couldn't resist the urge to explore the contours of Eddie's chest. Your fingertips followed a leisurely and meandering path across his skin with a delicate touch. Your caress was feather-light, almost soundless as it glided over him, yet it left behind a trail of tingling sensations.
The crackling fire provided a soothing background to this tender moment, and as you continued tracing patterns on his chest, the two of you felt a deep sense of connection. The shared stillness and your gentle touch spoke volumes, conveying a profound affection and closeness that went beyond the day's events. In the flickering light of the fire, you discovered a tranquil and intimate bond that required no words, only simple and loving gestures that conveyed comfort, trust, and the warmth of your hearts.
Eddie, his eyes brimming with affection, shifted his position and settled on top of you. With a gentle touch, he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. His caress was tender, his fingers radiating warmth against your skin as he gazed deeply into your eyes with a profound sense of love and connection.
His presence above you was a comforting weight, a reminder of the strength of his love and his desire to be close to you. His fingers trailed down to softly stroke your cheek, his thumb tenderly brushing your lips as he continued to sweep your hair aside.
He bestowed a soft and lingering kiss on your forehead, a charming and kind gesture that warmed your heart. His lips then descended to your cheeks, placing gentle kisses along the way, each one brimming with love and affection.
Eddie's touch was tender and considerate as his lips journeyed across your breasts and down to your tummy. He knew that his love could comfort your weary body and soul. His lips caressed your skin, leaving behind a path of warm, lingering kisses. The sensation was electrifying, igniting a fire within you that was distinct from the one flickering in the hearth.
"What are you doing?" you asked as Eddie persisted in his actions, his kisses descending a little further each time until they reached your navel. There, he playfully nibbled around it, and then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a glance upwards, he continued downward, taking you by surprise as his breath brushed against your sensitive area before planting a quick, teasing kiss on it. "Eddie?" you gasped, your voice filled with surprise and desire.
"Just trying to help you sleep better," Eddie replied, kissing the same spot again, this time with more intensity, eliciting a gasp from you. Your exhaustion was evident, but your anticipation for Eddie's touch was equally strong. "Is that okay?" he inquired, his voice filled with desire and concern.
In response, you let out a contented hum, your left hand supporting your chin, while your right palm descended to gently tangle in his locks.
Eddie's tongue embarked on a slow and sensual dance with your labia. There was no rush, and in the privacy of the moment, your moans and groans went unheard. It was an intimate, indulgent, and unhurried time when the two of you revelled in expressing your profound love and adoration for each other.
He continued for a minute or two, the moist sounds of his tongue intermingling with your own arousal, intensifying the heat between you. Soon, his tongue found the right spot, delicately delving into your core, igniting waves of pleasure that surged as his thumb skillfully teased and caressed your clit in various ways.
You let out a playful giggle as your focus shifted to his thumb, trying to decipher the patterns he was tracing. "Are you writing with my clit that I'm your property?" you teased, your voice laced with humour and desire.
His mouth left you momentarily for you to respond. "No," he said, "I'm writing that I'm yours." Without delay, his tongue returned to its rightful place, and his thumb resumed its sensual strokes.
You bit your bottom lip, your eyes gleaming with desire as you watched your lover pleasure you with all his skill. Eddie's adept movements always had the power to make you reach the pinnacle of pleasure. Even when his actions were deliberate and languid, he could still bring you to ecstasy. The sensual scenario was becoming even more enjoyable than you could have imagined.
Eddie sensed you were nearing the peak when he heard your soft yet trembling voice. However, he maintained the same rhythm. He didn't quicken his pace, nor did he become more forceful. He simply continued with the steady, sensual cadence until you finally reached a mind-blowing climax seconds later.
Eddie lazily lapped at your essence, murmuring as if savoring the most delectable honey ever produced. He licked his lips to ensure not a drop was missed, and then he planted a hasty kiss on your forehead.
Eddie inched himself against your labia, gradually penetrating until he was fully immersed within you. There were no words exchanged, only a silent language of longing and intimacy conveyed through glances and tender touches.
The motions were deliberate and potent, and the heat from the fire had nothing on the intense warmth that passed between his body and yours. There were no kisses exchanged because you both yearned to gaze deeply into each other's eyes and communicate in a language only the two of you understood.
Eddie felt amazing inside you. His warmth and the way he filled you up made it seem as if you had been empty all along. And for him, the sensation was just as pleasurable, if not more so: being enveloped in your warmth and wetness was a pure delight.
It could have been the breathtaking scenery, the promise of many more adventures together, or the thoughts of a shared future that occupied both of your minds, but no words, kisses, or wandering hands, whether on his back or your breasts, were necessary. Nothing else mattered but your togetherness.
Eddie's rhythm intensified, and both of your breaths grew more laboured, creating wisps of white air in the room, if the fire hadn't been ablaze. But it was. Now, in addition to the crackling of the wood and the dance of the flames, the sounds of skin meeting skin, the sensation of wetness, and the rhythm of your breathing all melded to create a harmonious symphony within the cabin.
"I'm close," Eddie murmured, lowering his head to place a brief, gentle kiss on the tip of your nose as the words slipped from your lips. You began to tighten around him, reaching your climax, your eyes clouded, vision blurred, and body trembling with pleasure. The whispers around you grew more melodious.
Eddie felt his balls tighten, on the verge of bursting. He filled you with passion, his mouth near your ear, softly groaning to keep their volume low. Perhaps it was because this moment felt too intimate to express both of your delights openly.
Eddie settled atop you, still inside, and the two of you drifted off to sleep by the warmth of the fire and the heat of your bodies.
.
.
.
Those who asked to be tagged <3 : @ali-r3n - @callmeyn - @zestychili - @hehehhe1d - @kassy-munson - @hideoutside - @tlclick73 - @take-everything-you-can -
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ymiwritesstuff · 3 months
Text
The Urge in Me
HI! Here's a Dark Urge inspired Halsin fic!! I've been playing my Durge playthrough and I really wanna romance Halsin, I just think it would create some nice duality and it also inspired me to write this! Fair warning though, this is NOT for the faint of heart, this one deals with some heavy stuff. General Dark Urge stuff yes, but be sure to look at the warnings thoroughly. Please enjoy!
Baldur's Gate 3
Halsin x Dark Urge!Tav!Reader
Summary: The torturing darkness in you was only growing stronger, and on a certain night you can barely contain it, leaving you fearing for your beloved's life.
Notes: NSFW CONTENT (gore and violence), Angst, DARK THEMES, GORE, EXTREMELY graphic mentions of violence, mentions of death, Blood, Dark Urge stuff, Fantasizing about murder, Hurt & comfort, happy ending, Fluff
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There was dread in the air, carried by the foul stench of death. Bright red, fresh blood pooled on the ground, a river of crimson flowing into the endless depths below, gushing out of bodies that were twisted into the most unnatural and grotesque of positions. Their gruesome appearance showed no regard for the sanctity of life, the sight of it a despicable and unsettling reminder of the reality of the world.
The butchery was vile, done in a hunger. A hunger to kill and bring carnage. It was as if a monster had unleashed unimaginable horrors upon these poor victims, many of them still housing an expression of pure horror frozen upon their faces. Even in death, they feared.
How delicious.
You marveled at the sight of the bloodshed, your body trembling in what you could only describe as ecstasy. How it brought you so much euphoria to see the fruits of your murderous efforts, a feast for your eyes. Your hand ached, a testament to the way it brought these people to their dooms oh so effortlessly. The sharp blade of the dagger you gripped dripped with blood, so deliciously wet with the juices of life.
The sweet smell of slaughter floated in the air, filling your head with a more ravenous desire to bring about another massacre like this one, with even more souls for your taking, with even more blood and guts. How superb it would feel to slice and slash flesh, to hear the screams and pleas of your pathetic victims, only for you to sink your dagger into them again.
And again, and again, again again again! Only for your hunger to remain famished, the never-ending thirst for glorious murder growing with every stab and cut. You would desire more.
More bloodbath… Slaughter of the highest order. Your body tingled at the thought, a vicious cackle ripping from the depths of your throat, ringing in your ears as the lust of slaying grew within you. How wonderful, how sublime. Where would you start?
Perhaps with a family… To hear the screams of the children as their parents met their end by your hand, to feel the rush of frenzy flow through you as your sharp blade works tirelessly, to see the desperation in their eyes as you gouge them-
“My heart?”
You sat up suddenly, breath heaving and sweat dripping down your forehead. For a moment, you did not see anything, or feel anything, however soon, as the warm light of a familiar campfire reached your eyes, as well as a silhouette of a large elf towering over you, you finally came to your senses.
“H-Halsin? What’s going on?”
He looked at you, concern plastered across his features. He remained quiet, his expression somehow managing to tell you that he did not dare to tell you why you were woken up by him. The previous visions were a blur, but the way he eyed you planted a seed of fear in you. What had you done?
Fearing the worst, you frantically looked around, trying to see if everyone was still sleeping, hopefully among the living. “Did… Did I do something? Please don’t tell me I kill-”
“No, my love.” He placed a hand on your shoulder, leaning closer. Looking at him fearfully, you noticed a distant calmness in his eyes. “You’ve done nothing. I simply woke you up as you seemed… distressed.” His voice trailed off at the end, his eyes briefly finding the ground below him.
You noticed a hesitation within him. He was trying to comfort you, but you sensed something plaguing him. Something sinister.
“What did I do?” You were afraid to ask but had to know. The urge had tormented you for some time and only seemed to grow in strength, but you could not afford to pretend to be ignorant, lest you someday did something irreversible and horrid.
Halsin paused, seemingly fighting a battle within himself. “You… weren’t yourself, so to speak.”
He was being vague, most likely for your own good, but it only made you want to know more. You took his hands and looked at him, trying to persuade him to tell you everything that happened.
“Please, Halsin. I want to know. I can’t begin to control my urge if I don’t understand it…” You pleaded with him, fearful of what horrors he might describe but determined to understand this… Sickness of yours. That’s what it was to you.
Halsin sighed deeply, pondering over your words before giving in. It pained him to see you like this and though he would have rather not told you any more than he already had, he understood your struggle, and above all wished to help you in any way he could.
“You tossed and turned at first, seemingly disturbed by something. Soon you began saying words that I did not understand. They were unclear, confused, but loud.”
You swallowed nervously, noticing how his face slightly twisted into a frown at the memory.
“Then you started twisting like your limbs were being snapped and you thrashed around uncontrollably. At this point, I knew I had to wake you up, but then...”
He squeezed your hands and took a breath. You would not be ready for what he said next.
“You laughed. You laughed like a…” He quieted down again, but you had a feeling you knew what he was about to say.
“Monster.”
Halsin did not want to hear you say it. Neither did you, but it was useless trying to deny it. The twisted urge had partially taken control as you slept, fortunately only managing to contain itself within your mind. Still, it brought you a sense of qualm.
The desire for bloodshed had infiltrated your mind before, briefly, but it had always left something behind, a fraction of its dark desires. Even when you looked at Halsin, your beloved, with whom you wished to spend every moment of every day, you were not spared from the invasive thoughts of slaughter.
You wondered how many stabs it would take to pierce that large body of his. How much you would have to twist your knife while it was buried deep within his torso until he screamed in agony. Your eyes wandered to his neck, vision blurred as the sound of your rapid heartbeat filled your ears.
He called to you, but you could not hear it, for all you thought about how lovely it would have been to see that thick neck of his gushing with blood from a deep wound. You grinned. What fun that would be.
Before your sickened mind went any further, you managed to pull yourself from the sea of blood raging within you. Gasping, you looked at him again, no longer fantasizing about his murder. You felt disgusted like you had cruelly betrayed him. You hung your head low fighting back tears that threatened to fall.
“I… I don’t know what to do… I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
You felt his strong arms wrap around you, and one of his hands pet your head gently. He held you tight, almost afraid that you would slip away. The severity of the situation was obvious to both of you, but Halsin, being the kindhearted druid he was, put that aside to help you deal with it.
“Do not worry, my heart. I am here.”
His words hit you like a boulder, finally urging those tears to come out. You quietly sobbed against him, wondering just how you had managed to meet someone like him. Despite the dread, the death, the urge, all of it, he was there for you and made sure not to leave your side.
However, the underlying fear grew the more you thought about it. If you could not control the urge any longer and embarked on a murderous killing spree, who would stop you? What would happen to everyone and most importantly, what would happen to him? It was all covered in a veil of dark mystery, but one thing was more than certain.
You would rather run a knife through your own throat than allow yourself to harm him or anyone else.
“We will find a solution to this yet, my love…” He spoke, voice soothing, almost a whisper. His large hand ran through your hair and his words brought you some hope. You found yourself believing him, if only slightly.
“I would hope so but… Halsin..” You lifted yourself from him, teary eyes looking up at him with another pleading expression. His hand was on your cheek, thumb wiping away the stray tears. “Yes, my heart?”
You took a breath, what you were about to ask was not a light matter, and you debated whether or not you should even begin to ask this of him. It weighed on your heart, but you could not go on any longer wondering when you’ll finally lose control and hurt someone.
“Love… I… I’m fearful… It’s clear that whatever it is in me, can consume me and make me do… regrettable things.” You held onto his shoulders, your voice losing its power as you went on.
“To kill someone… To kill you- It… It’s like a nightmare that I fear will yet become true… So please…”
Squeezing him, your eyes met his, and in the pit of his stomach, you were sure he already knew what you were about to ask of him.
“If I one day lose control, lose myself to this… Dark urge… Promise me-” The words got stuck in your throat. How could you ask this? From him? It felt wrong, all of it felt wrong and suddenly you weren’t sure what to do. The words hung in the air that had become thick and judging by how Halsin looked at you, he knew all too well what you wished to say.
“My heart, listen to me.” Both of his hands were now on your face, hazel eyes frowned in sadness but sparkling with hope. “I can only imagine the torment you are going through, and I do not blame you for considering a more bleak solution.” His voice was gentle, like a spring breeze and the warmth of his hands spread throughout your entire being.
“But that is not how this will end. I promise you, I will not let anything happen to you, or anyone else. Trust me, my heart. You will prevail, we will prevail, together.”
You were stunned. With wide eyes you look at him, his saddened kind smile radiating your dark insides like the sun. You clung to him unsure what to say.
“Halsin…”
Leaning against him, you craved an embrace and he was happy to oblige. You felt safer than ever before, his words affecting you in ways you did not think possible. Suddenly, it did not feel so hopeless anymore. You thought the only possible solution would have been for him to kill you if you ever reached a point of no return but now… Perhaps there was hope. Perhaps you would find the cause of all this.
“I’ll be by your side, love. No matter what.”
Halsin pressed his lips to the top of your head, and you melted in his arms, the fatigue of the night returning to you. The urge was quiet blessing you with its pity as you enjoyed your beloved’s warmth. To be with him was a miracle.
He was a miracle.
~
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goodmorgan · 1 year
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Perfect Strangers
Pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!Reader
Summary: When a stranger appears at your homestead to steal from you, you set out to help him instead.
Word Count: 6.1k  
Tags: NSFW. 18+. Smut, Porn With Plot, Mentions of Starvation, Masturbation, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, Touch-Starved Arthur Morgan, Mutual Pining, Infidelity
AO3 Link
A/N: This will be a fic consisting of multiple chapters.
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Chapter 1: A Man in Need
"Who the hell are you?" you shout as you emerge from your doorstep, pointing your shotgun at his head.
He turns slowly from the apple tree in your front yard, hands now raised to his sides. He swallows nervously like a schoolboy caught in the act as the apple he was holding lands swiftly on the ground. He's tall enough to reach the highest branches with ease, the only ones you've yet to pick clean as you're too lazy to get the ladder.
"I'm... I'm sorry, ma'am." He looks at you pleading with his eyes, one of them almost as black as his boots. His exposed hands and forearms are bruised but healing, you reckon the fight he was in must have been a few days ago. His shirt and pants look like they've been slept in for days, the dirt and the grass staining them worse than the sweat. He is wearing an old leather hat, which frames his chiseled face perfectly, tilted enough so you can see his piercing blue eyes. They might be telling you he is a kind man if it were not for the fact that you've caught him stealing.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You try to pretend you're not frightened by the hooligan now standing in your property. You hope your voice is as demanding as his presence.
"Please don't shoot, ma'am. I'm... I'm sorry. I just..."
"You what?" You cock the shotgun with authority.
"I'm- I'm just... I'm so... hungry." His voice quivers as he utters the last word, barely audible. He looks embarrassed to admit it but hopes his honesty is enough to save him from an early grave. He holds still as a sign of cooperation. His manner seems genuine to you, his confession matching his appearance.
You hold your position as you ponder what to do next. The both of you are still enough that you can hear the fire in your hearth inside. You have just finished peeling the potatoes so you can add them to the stew you're making. You were hoping to have enough leftovers for tomorrow, but you guess there's enough dinner for two.
"Do you have any weapons?" You don't lower your voice or your shotgun.
"Just a pocketknife, ma'am." The man seems truthful.
"Throw it." He obeys and the knife lands by your feet on the porch. You pick it up and pocket it next to yours.
"You have anything else?"
"No, ma'am. Just some cigarettes." He reaches for one of his pant pockets and retrieves them, dropping them on the floor. He shows you the other pocket is empty before being quick to remove his boots, showing you he has nothing to hide. His hands return to his sides once he's finished.
"Would you like some food?"
He takes a breath and swallows air at the mention of it. "Yes... Yes, ma'am. Very much so." The threat of the stranger subsides as you now realize you are standing in front of a famished man. You slowly lower your shotgun from your dinner guest. His hands remain upright as he waits for instructions.
"Put your boots on. I need to get inside to finish dinner."
"Yes, ma'am." He is quick to stand in front of you, waiting for permission to climb the stairs. Even with you standing on the porch, he's almost as tall as you. Up close, he's even more handsome than you had realized.
"What's your name?"
"Morgan. Arthur Morgan, ma'am." He tips his hat awkwardly. His gaze is weary but pleading for compassion.
"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Morgan. My name is Y/N. Please come in. I reckon there's enough food for the both of us." As he climbs the stairs he looks at you like he's being invited to a Saint Dennis' banquet. "Now, don't go thinking it's anything fancy. I don't have much."
"Anything you can give me I'll be grateful till the day I die." He seems just as obedient without a shotgun pointed at him, even though he towers over you. He carries himself with an undeniable raw magnetism, slightly undercut by a sensible restraint, a quiet but powerful virility. You are not immune to its immediate effects.  
"Well, don't die just yet. Don't need any dead bodies on my property." He tries to pretend to be amused but he can only muster an exhale, looking down at you, staring, mouth agape. You're now so close you swear you can smell the whole forest on him. You start to map out the details of his features like constellations in the night sky. You almost reach out your hand to touch them.
You turn around to enter your cottage just as the idea overtakes you. You realize, under the right circumstances, you might be as obedient to him as he's been to you.
"Would you like some water?" you say as you head straight for the kitchen, already reaching for a glass to serve him. His "yes, ma'am" is barely out before he downs the whole glass, letting out slurping noises of urgency and relief. You serve him a few more times before his chugs quiet down and his thirst is quenched. He removes his hat to reveal his sweaty temple and his luscious caramel hair.
"There is a vanity inside if you'd like to wash up while I finish dinner."
"Thank you." He heads towards your bedroom while you put down your shotgun and get the potatoes. Your two-room cottage is quite small, so you can hear him wash while stirring the stew. Water sloshes in the bowl for sometime before it stops. He struggles with something for a while before you hear the brief unzipping of his pants, the quick fastening of his buckle.
He takes his time but he emerges clean, his skin glowing bright by the light of the fire. He has groomed and rearranged his clothes to appear more presentable, his sleeves buttoned and his collar smoothed. He has tucked in his shirt, doing his best to hide the noticeable blood stains. His hair is swept back, you can tell he spent some time trying to comb it with his fingers. He holds his hat in his hands, fidgeting with the brim, patiently waiting for your command, looming over you as you cook. By the attentive way he's looking at you, you wonder if your attraction is reciprocated.
"Nearly done, Mr. Morgan." You raise from the fire to cool yourself as the room heats up with his presence. "I'll just set the table. Take a seat." He watches as you place some of your finest dishes and cutlery, arranging it all as well as you can to impress your guest. You soon pour the meaty stew onto your plates.
He stares at the food on the table for a little while, his mouth salivating at the sight. You figure he hasn't eaten anything for days now, surviving on whatever the forest gifted him. Whatever it was, surely not enough for a man of his stature. He moans after he takes his first bites, each one louder than the last. He tries to eat slowly but soon gives it up, ditching any pretense of civility in favor of sustenance. He holds the spoon for the stew in one hand while holding bread in the other, fetching for more of the other as he eats either one.
You try to eat your own meal as you become enraptured by the spectacle. His animalistic mannerisms are oddly captivating and leave little to the imagination. His piercing blue eyes raise from the food to eye you from time to time, ravishing you as he does his meal.
Arthur is on his fourth plate of stew before he begins to slow down. All the bread you had is gone, much to your regret. After you serve yourself a second helping, you drop the ladle and hear it echo in the nearly empty pot. You finish your meal by you reaching for some fruit for dessert, the last of the apples you were able to reach. You place one in front of Arthur just as he finishes scooping up the last of the liquid on his plate.
"I'm sorry I stole from you." He hangs his head in regret.
"Well, you didn't eat it. So I guess you didn't steal it." The peel of your apple lands as a perfect spiral on your plate.
"You're very kind for feeding me."
"I'd like to think that if the situation were reversed, you'd feed me too."
"I'd be honored if you'd let me repay you, ma'am." You know he means it.
You reach inside your pocket and take out Arthur's pocketknife before you hand it to him. "I'll have to think of something." He grabs the knife and begins to peel the apple as you did. "For now, I think I'll just hear your story."
You're on your second whiskey when you pour Arthur his third, relieved you opened the least expensive bottle. It'll be some time before Arthur gets tipsy given what he's eaten. You, however, have reached your limit.  
He's been telling you about how he was ambushed on the road a few days back. O'Driscolls, he says. A group took him into the forest to beat him and left him to die with just some cigarettes in his pocket, no matches. The hunger wouldn't have been so bad if they hadn't left him without a coat to keep him from the cold. He was losing hope when he stumbled onto your homestead and saw your apples.
You tell him little about yourself and he doesn't inquire much, thinking it's best not to pry. But he keeps staring at you with those hungry eyes of his and you wonder if he can see there's hunger in you too.
When the conversation dies, he rises from his chair to squat by the fire, reaching for a burning twig to light one of his cigarettes. You stare at his broad back, barely covered by his thinly stretched shirt. You wonder how your hands compare to it in size. Perhaps he has constellations on his back that you can map out too. You'd work your way upward, tracing lines with your fingers between his freckles and scars all the way up to his neck, finishing by feeling his big shoulders under your small hands. You'd be interrupted by him swinging you around so he can face to kiss you, passionately and without remorse. He would plant his own large hands on your small shoulders as you feel the weight of his full desire bearing down on you. You'd grab his shoulders again as he enters you.
He rises back to his chair, interrupting your fantasy. "You saved a man from death today, miss. I'm very grateful."
"Well, you just make sure you get some rest tonight. There's plenty of fire to keep warm. And more whiskey too." You lift the bottle to pour him more but he declines. "In the morning, you can take my horse into town. See if you can get in touch with your folks."
"Oh, I can't take more of your generosity, miss."
"Why not? I insist! I won't need the horse for a few days. I might have some money I can lend—"
"I can't possibly accept that, miss." The idea almost offends him.
"Fine, I won't lend you the money. So you'll take the horse then?" You smile as you trick him into charity.
He sighs. "Well, I guess I will." He looks rather defeated.
"Ok, good." You get up. "Now, you stay where you are while I go get linens to make your bed." You rush to your bedroom before he has a chance to object.
You haven't noticed how dark it has gotten until you see the moonlight illuminating your room, bright enough that you can see your way to your dresser. You light the lamp above it and notice the water in the vanity, muddied with dirt and old blood. The towel he used is neatly folded and placed on the dresser, the act of a thoughtful guest. You pick it up to place it with your dirty laundry and you catch a sniff of his smell in it. A mist of wood, grass, and sweat. Without a thought, you linger on it.
You look at your made-up bed and imagine what it would be like to have it drenched with his smell, his sweat staining the sheets after his vigorousness. You wonder if he'd be as loud as he was during dinner or if he would grow quiet, intensely concentrating on his pleasure. Or maybe he'd focus on yours, his lips seducing yours, first above your waistline and then below. Either way, you'd wrap your legs around him, savoring the feeling. You'd grab his shoulders once he'd surface, the two of you connected at the hips, colliding into each other. Afterward, you'd rest in his arms, his broad back taking up most of your mattress. You'd wash the dirty sheets in the morning but they'd still have traces of him. Just like you.
You wake from your stupor when you remember Arthur is outside, waiting for his actual bed to be made. You take from the armoire a blanket and a spare pillow and you wonder if he'll be able to fit in your old davenport. He most certainly will not. He could always take your bed.
You find him standing by the door as if he's leaving. Not courageous enough to leave without a goodbye. He jolts when he sees you emerge from the bedroom.
"Where are you going?"
"Look, miss, maybe it's best if I be on my way. I can walk from here. I'll come back to repay you for your trouble." He looks at you like he's scared of what will happen if you let him stay. You suspect that his head is filled with impure thoughts too, now that the hunger in his eyes is deeper.
"But it's already nighttime. There's no point in leaving now." Please don't leave, you think. You could make it worth his while.
"It ain't proper to bother you no more. Especially a woman by herself."
"It's no bother. Or improper, to help a man in need. Besides, I told you you can borrow my horse in the morning."
"I can't accept that."
"Seriously, Mr. Morgan, take what you need." You go to place the linens on the davenport, which is definitely too small for him.
“I think I've taken enough from you, ma’am.”
When you turn around you see Arthur has already opened the door and is on his way out. You rush to him and without thinking you grab his forearm and force him to turn, his figure filling your doorway, illuminated by the moonlight. He looks down at you, surprised by your boldness, his eyes burning with lust. You feel his heartbeat quicken in your hand.
You're brave enough to caress him with your thumb. "Don't go, Arthur."
He doesn't recoil and looks down at you, clearly wanting to accept your proposition. "It's been a while," he admits. He seems so timid yet so needy.
"Me too."
He hesitates for a few seconds before he finally reaches down to kiss you. His plump lips land on yours, softer than any kiss you could imagine him giving. It's powerful enough to titillate every part of you. You catch the smell of your soap on his skin as he presses closer to you. After a moment, he withdraws, still unsure of himself.
You reassure him again. "Take what you need."
You lose grasp of his wrist and feel both his hands reaching to the sides of your neck. He kisses you deeply now, pushing your lips apart to make room for his. You taste the cheap whiskey you served him when the tip of his tongue reaches yours. You grab onto his shoulders, trying to steady yourself as the pleasure intensifies. They're bigger than you imagined.
You lose yourself in his passion, malleable to his sudden force as he begins to overpower you, wrapping his arms around you while his tongue wraps around yours. He finally starts to take what he needs. You receive what you need, too.
Once he eases on you for a moment, you take the chance to lead him to your bedroom, anxious to enact the dirty daydream you just had in there. He follows your trail while kissing and caressing you, getting more confident as he escalates, gradually lowering his hands, from your face to your shoulders, then to your waist, and to your hips, ecstatically enveloping you. You're by the bed when you feel yourself vibrating with lust for the man that's touching you, getting wetter by the minute.
When your back hits the armoire, his pelvis runs into you and you feel his length already hard against you. You lean into him, savoring the sensation, and you guide his hands to your ass, which he grabs greedily, making you sway closer to him. Both of you exchange gasps in each other's mouths. Like at dinner, he sounds louder with every bite.
As much as it pains you, you slightly push Arthur back to start speeding things along. He watches as you begin to work your blouse, opening the buttons you fastened this morning. If you had known how aroused you'd be tonight, you would never have picked the blouse with so many buttons. You were hoping to strip for him, but your fingers are now clammy from the excitement, so you need an extra hand.
"Help me out, would you?"
He reaches for the button you're trying to undo, the one right between your breasts. Once he has access inside, he gets distracted by the visible part of your tits, already peeking through your chemise. He moves his fingertips over them, touching them delicately. The sensation feels like lightning to you and you let out small whispers of delight. You get louder once you feel his whole hand reaching under the chemise, softly cupping a whole breast, his palm now stimulating your nipple.  
The sensation makes you melt under his touch. In return, you lower your hand to reach the growing erection under his pants, making him draw out a loud groan of satisfaction. You watch as Arthur closes his eyes as you continue to massage him, fully riveted by the sensation. The big size on your hand leaves you no less breathless.
It evidently becomes too overwhelming for him and he abruptly stops you and removes his hand. In a strangled voice, he leans into your ear to whisper. “I think I need another whiskey.”
He goes out the door and you watch as he heads to the table, pours himself a drink and downs it with a frustrated grunt. He pours another, trying to settle his nerves, concentrating on avoiding a premature release. You figure it must be a long while since he's been touched by a woman. His erection must be painfully throbbing by now. He probably has no idea how arousing this is.
You go back in the room to open the drawer of your dresser. You cut the rest of the buttons of your blouse with your scissors, you can always saw them back later. You're finally free to undo the rest of your blouse and remove your skirt and chemise, finally naked and free. You return to your bedroom door to tell Arthur the good news.
You find him staring at the fire as it dies down, the drink still on the table nearby. His shirt has now been removed and so has his modesty, it seems. You watch as he unbuckles his pants and frees himself, at last holding his stiffness in his hand. He takes a moment before he starts pumping, languidly stroking his length while letting out small sounds of relief.
You marvel at the sight of the cowboy letting loose, so you decide not to disturb him. You get wetter at the realization that he's touching an arousal you helped build. Unable to contain yourself, you reach for your own sex, trying to find some much-needed relief. For a few moments, you both touch each other to the same lazy rhythm.
“I can help with that, you know?” You come out of the bedroom once you reach your limit, desperate for his touch.
Arthur freezes in place when he sees you standing there, now fully naked with your hair down. You could swear his cock shifts in his hand at your sight. You join him by the fire and, without permission, you resume his handiwork on your own fist while he lets out his audible approval. He huffs louder when you reach for his tip.
When he seems to unfreeze, he cups one of your breasts, as if to steady himself. He lightly massages your nipple with his thumb as you continue to work on his length.
You continue pumping him, fastening the pace as you feel him panting under you and see him close his eyes. You stop before things get out of control, which brings him back to the room.
"Let's get to bed," you suggest.
You lead him inside until you sit on the edge of the bed. It's now your turn to wait for instructions. But you pick up on some of his earlier hesitation, a man worried about unloading himself on you.
“Take me.” Your tone is almost a pleading one. "Take me, Arthur."
The sound of his name on your lips is enough to rouse him. What follows next is utterly exhilarating as he makes you lie fully on the bed, his hands pushing your shoulders down while his cock presses on your stomach. Once he rises, he instructs you. "Spread your legs for me, girl." You do as your told, trembling at his sudden domineering voice.  
You watch as he stands looming over you, his cock fully erect and twitching with need, an erotic image you won't soon forget. He takes a moment to look at you, spread out with your legs hanging, your core exposed. He's surely saving a picture for himself too.
"Mmm so pretty for me." He reaches down and parts your folds. "So wet for me, too." He drags his index up and down, watching as you writhe under the sensation. You wish that he would linger further on your clit but instead he grabs your hip with one hand and puts the other on his length, aligning the head at your entrance, wetting it with your slick. It's both completely thrilling and not enough at the same time.
"You gonna take me good, girl?" He grips your hip more forcefully. You nod for him as you prepare yourself for what's coming. You hold your arms to the side, just like he did when you were pointing the shotgun at him. Just like him, you surrender.
He enters you messily as he hurries inside, clearly impatient to start. He groans loudly and sloppily, almost like a teenager. You cling to the sheets beside you as you take him, adapting to the feeling of being completely filled. Once he's inside, he takes a second to adjust, clearly savoring being inside another woman again.
"Mmm, so good and tight, girl. Fuck. Fuuuck!"
Once he's fully buried in you, he loses no time and begins to thrust, starting off faster than you expect. He looks at you with unapologetic lust. It takes you some getting used to his rhythm and size, but something about his hungry demeanor arouses you enough to dissipate any discomfort. You soon begin to experience a type of pleasure you haven't felt in a long while.
You can't help but let out whatever moan comes out of you, as your senses surrender to to the hooligan now overpowering you. You have quenched his thirst, relieved his hunger and now you're satisfying his most carnal need. Each time he has repaid you with the most obscene noises and lascivious stares. You hope you're repaying him back in the same way.
His thrusts become erratic, a man in desperate need of release. You try to do your best to please him further, but there's not much you can do once he controls both your hips with his hands, allowing him to bury himself as deep within you as possible. When he further angles down on you, you feel more pressure on your clit, wrapping your knees around him, pressing for more.
His pacing is now reckless as he tries to satisfy his hunger, dripping with sweat over you. You're completely enthralled as this complete stranger fucks you so greedily under the cover of night. You feel yourself getting closer to some edge you barely even knew existed.
By the manner he fucks you, you figure his long-held repression will not make him last long, so you're dismayed but not surprised when you feel him approaching his climax. You haven't reached yours yet, even though you know you're very close. You wish he holds on a little longer, but it's too late once you hear him huff with even less discretion and you feel his muscles tensing around you.
Arthur pulls out of you before he comes, spilling white ropes all over your stomach, stroking his own cock to finish. It's a long and deep orgasm, one he's been needing for sometime. He remains in his position, still holding his cock, mouth opened and eyes closed as he comes down from his high. He goes limp, landing next to you with a thud, exhausted and with his eyes closed, unable to move.
Arthur's climax is no doubt the most erotic one you've ever witnessed and the arousal it creates in you is only a burden once you realize you still haven't orgasmed yourself. You get up to fetch a clean towel, cleaning his spill off of yourself and you watch as he lays there, eyes still closed. His chest begins to settle as his breathing calms.
You get back in bed and kneel beside him, your eyes surveying every part of his incredible physique, his cock now semi-hard after being inside you. You rub two of your fingers in your wetness before you place them on your clit and move them in circles to find your pleasure again. You're still very aroused and it's not long before you feel the beginning of your climax again. You keep staring at Arthur, his body reason enough to titillate you further. You look at his length, already missing having it inside you, so you slip a couple of fingers in you. They're not even close to replacing him but they provide enough pressure to continue building your peak.
You keep watching him and keep thinking of him thrusting into you when you start to let out sharp whimpers, panting as you inch closer to release. They're loud enough to make Arthur wake from his exhaustion and you watch as he props himself up on his elbows, enjoying the view of your self-gratification. But just watching isn't enough for him.
"Let me."
He places his fingers on top of yours, which are now circling your clit at a fast pace. You let him learn the rhythm of the motion and then you remove your hand, squirming as you feel him directly pleasuring you. It happens just in time as it's only a moment until you finally come, erupting wildly under his unyielding touch. He works you through your orgasm until you finally collapse next to him, unconsciously searching for his chest and placing your semi-lucid head there.
You feel him wrap you in his arms, caressing your back as your breathing eases. "That was beautiful, girl."
When you open your eyes after a while, you notice the lamp in your room has gone out and the both of you are now bathing in the moonlight, only accompanied by the sounds of the surrounding forest. You soon notice Arthur's deep breathing under you and you realize he must have fallen fast asleep, exhausted from the ordeal of the past few days, enjoying the safety of your bed. A man now fed, fucked and sheltered.
Although you don't want to, you slowly remove yourself from him. You cover him with your quilt but not before gazing at his full body again, already missing it on top of you. You move to the side of the bed he doesn't occupy, small enough to have you lay on your side by his side. You fall asleep to the sound of his deep loud breathing. Two perfect strangers satiated in the moonlight.
It's a regular morning for you, waking up alone in your bed, eyes opened and staring at the wooden ceiling. But this time you feel your insides a little sore, a welcomed reminder of last night. You turn to look at Arthur's place, now empty but his outline still visible on the sheets. You map it with your fingers as you wonder where he is, still burning with the memory of him inside you.
You get up and dress in clean clothes you pick from your dresser, a simple blouse and skirt with fewer buttons, pretty enough that he might like. You tie up your hair in your usual practical bun. You douse some expensive perfume on your neck, a small strand running between your breasts.
You guess it is about seven by the morning's light outside. You step into the porch as you watch Arthur next to the apple tree, in the same spot where you found him yesterday. He's picking the remaining apples on the top and placing them on a basket. The sight of his chiseled body under his clothes is enough to flare the arousal you thought you'd extinguished last night.
He sees you when he retrieves the last apple, perched over a lower branch. He brings you a full basket with a small grin on his face, a man whose basic needs seem to have been entirely fulfilled.
You can't help but smile too. "You stealing from me again, are you?"
"Wouldn't dream of it, miss. Thought I'd finish what I started and get them down for you." He sets the basket at your feet, like an ancient priest offering it to a deity. "Now no one can try to steal them again."
"Wouldn't want any competition, huh?" You tease him as he approaches you, his hands on his hips, sweat running down his brow.
He licks his lips before answering. "No, ma'am. Wouldn't dream of it."
"You hungry?"
"I'm still full after last night."
You giggle slightly at his insinuation before you lead him back into your kitchen to prepare breakfast.
Arthur helps make coffee while you prepare the bacon, eggs and sausages. The meal feels a little off without some bread, but you barely notice in the presence of your company.
Arthur is telling you an amusing story involving a donkey on his passing through Armadillo, letting you peek inside his previous life before he made it to New Haven. It pleases you that he is a traveling man, besides clearly being a resourceful one. He grows quiet when you ask him what he does for a living. You busy yourself with the dishes to dispel the tension brought on by the vague answer he gives.
He gets up to help you clear the rest of the dishes on the table. "I best get going if I'm gonna make it to Valentine before noon."
The mention of him leaving stings you. "You can go get Amber. She's on the stable out back. She's real friendly."
"May I?" Arthur points to the basket of apples and when you nod he grabs two of them, taking a big bite out of one. You see him drool a little before he walks out the door.
You busy yourself with the dishes before he comes back. All the while you feel a pang in your stomach as you think about him leaving, wishing you could spend the night together again. Flashes of last night burst into your consciousness, making you relieve it deliciously. You feel yourself filled with lust again before it's even eight in the morning.
When you catch Arthur leading Amber to your yard, you realize that if he's a man of his word he'll have to come back to return her safely back to you. Maybe you'll cook dinner for him again. Maybe he'll take you once again. You head out for the yard with your mind made up to ask him to come back.
"It's a nice trotter you got here. Well fed too." He pets her neck, much to her delight, and he feeds her the other apple he grabbed. "That's a good girl." His wording sounds like an echo from last night.  
"She like carrots too. I've put some inside, some beans and corn for you too. Don't want you going hungry again." You hand him a satchel you've prepared for his journey into town.
"Much obliged." He nods in thanks and places it on his shoulder, which barely shifts at the weight of it. He steps forward as he begins his goodbye, halting just as he hovers above you.
"I'm very grateful to you, miss. For everything." He whispers the last part as a dirty little secret that only you two share.
"Well, I'm glad I could be of help." You fidget with your fingers, too afraid to ask him to stay, too cowardly to say goodbye.
"I'll come back to bring Amber. And to repay you. I promise." He emphasizes the last part like it's a sacred vow.
Arthur lingers over you and you wait for his next move. It looks like he's going kiss you goodbye but instead he takes a few steps back and mounts Amber instead. He gives you one last look and one last nod before he urges her to trot and you watch as he gallops out of view. His absence leaves you cold and sullen, mended only by the promise of his return.  
You decide not to spend the day wallowing, instead being grateful for the night of passion you just experienced. You set out to do the remainder of your chores before you resume your knitting. When you finish with the kitchen, you tidy up the rest of the living room. You put away the nearly empty bottle of whiskey. You relight the fire in the hearth. You put away the linens on the sofa that have been sitting there all night, unused.
You turn around in your bedroom to find the bed still unmade, his outline still traceable. You go to remove the quilt from the bed when it hits you. You catch a whiff of his smell again, this time all over your sheets, right where he had you. You catch a few stains of dried sweat where both of you laid, asleep and awake. Traces of his spend and your slick. It's his pillow that most delights you as it smells so intensely of him, it's almost like he's there again.
Like he's there again, pushing you downward, telling you to spread, filling you whole. So pretty for me. Taking you, over and over. So good and tight, girl. Fuck. The memory is too strong for you to resist it, so you lay down again, right where he had you. You use your fingers to try to mimic his movements and vigor. You cannot match them, but they are enough to make you come again, this time while he's still inside you, and you repeat his name out loud as you do it. You lay your head on his pillow as you come down to earth again. That was beautiful, girl. You remember his promise to come back, the possibility of him taking you again surely enough to power you until his return.
It's midmorning when you decide to get up and finally change the sheets, as much as it pains you to lose his scent. You decide to leave his pillow untouched, a souvenir of your unexpected affair, now lying atop the fresh bed linens.
You set out to do the laundry, hoping it dries with the afternoon sun. You wash the sheets first, then your clothes and undergarments, followed by the towels. You take a second to look at the embroidery you stitched on the hand towel you used to clean Arthur's seed off of you.
It's only when you see his initials that you think of your husband. 
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A/N: Already working on chapter 2! Feedback is welcomed!
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