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bitchyycapricorn · 1 year

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Library Scandals

Remus Lupin x Established Relationship Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Word Count:5k+

Synopsis: Remus and Y/N are in a secret yet very committed relationship. Pent up jealousy and sexual frustration leads them to the library part curfew.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Oral (M and F receiving), throat fucking, PIV penetration, unprotected sex, praise kink, pet names, jealousy, mentions of toxic family, “getting caught”, language.

AN: Briefly edited

Remus peers at the marauders map in front of him tracing your every move as you make your way through the castle. His eyes linger over your footsteps and your name which read “Y/N Grey.” His heart skips a beat the deeper you move through the grounds, watching as you swiftly avoid Filch and any other teachers that happen to be on night watch.

It was getting rather late of course and Remus knew those teachers would be retiring to their beds quite soon. Which is why he was rather surprised to see you on the move so early. He watches as your footsteps pause for a moment outside the library before entering the facility.

Remus smirks to himself knowing exactly what you were doing. You were once again off to the restricted section to continue to read about wandless magic and transformations. Remus never liked to leave you alone on these scandalous adventures, which is why he finds himself quickly muttering “mischief managed” as he slips out of his own dormitory.

Remus, unlike you, is smart enough to wait for all professors to go to bed before heading to the library to join you. The moonlight lighting up his path so he didn’t need to use his wand. His journey is quick and he soon finds himself in front of the large doors to the library that you both so desperately love.

Remus quietly creaks the door open, quickly slipping inside and shutting it behind him. He scrambles hurriedly over to the restricted section where he finds you hunched over a book, nothing but a lantern and the moonlight to light the area around you.

“I suspected you’d be on your way,” your soft voice breaks the silence as a smirk plays upon your lips. Remus lets out a soft laugh as he admires the way the soft yellow glow of the candle lights up your face in the dark room.

“I couldn’t let you have all the fun now could I?” Remus replies coyly. A smirk playing on his lips as well. He stands there a moment more to admire you before making his way toward your hunched figure. He places a soft kiss atop your head relishing in this moment alone with you. He knows you aren’t supposed to be together, and you know it as well. It just seems to somehow, and for some reason, worry you less that the two of you are dating.

You come from a strong pure blood line of Grey’s, and your family holds quite high expectations of you. Especially when it comes to your marital status. Your parents usher you to keep your eyes open for a good pure blood boy whose family comes from good money like yours. As a first year, you were quick to make this promise. You hadn’t thought much of such things. But as a 7th year, things have definitely changed.

You’ve fancied Remus Lupin since second year and the two of you had secretly made things official fourth year. The fact either of you have been able to keep it hush hush for this long is beyond Remus, but not you.

You know exactly why things have kept so quiet. Part of it has to do with the constant lies that you feed your family about how you are “changing” Sirius Black from a blood trader to a restored pure blood lover. You made a promise to your mother and father that you fancy him and by the end of 7th year you’d have a proposal.

Now, you had planned to end this facade ages ago, but Remus convinced you this was the only way your parents wouldn’t disown you. You know that a family bond is important to Remus, given his own family troubles, so you agreed to continue the lies. The issue is how absolutely and utterly jealous Remus is becoming. Even now sitting in the library you can tell he is on edge about something again.

“Sirius was hitting on you again,” Remus huffs taking a seat on the table you’re working at.

“Oh?” You question innocently, as if you hadn’t noticed.

Remus lets out a small groan of annoyance as he begins to pick at his nails. “Darling, he was fawning over you at lunch,” Remus whines. His brown eyes are big and pleading. Asking, no begging, for you to stop Sirius’s antics.

“Well my dear,” you chuckle lightly, “perhaps if you finally told the boys we were together Sirius would stop.”

Remus stares at you silently for a moment before finally speaking up. “Y/N, you know how mouthy the boys are… it will get out and to your parents and…”

“Rem,” you softly cut in. “I think you forget this is our last year. It’s going to come out eventually. Why does it matter if it’s now rather than then?” You try to keep your voice as soft and soothing as possible, you know Remus is an anxious person and this conversation in particular always upsets him. It really did surprise you how insistent he was that you keep your relationship under complete wraps until after graduation. Many would suspect cheating, but you know the other reality of why he requests this. Remus fears the way your fellow housemates will treat you.

Remus has already witnessed the relentless attacks on Sirius for being a blood traitor despite not even being placed in Slytherin. He couldn’t bare to imagine the way you would be treated for being a blood traitor being that Slytherin is your house.

Though it didn’t particularly worry or bother you, you refuse to put any more stress on your darling boyfriend. So you allow for things to stay quiet. Between family ties and bullying, you know this was what ultimately makes Remus happy. Even if his whining about Sirius Black drives you crazy.

“No no,” Remus huffs back finally, making you tear your gaze from your book. “Your parents might cut you off financially, or…”

“Remmy, we don’t have to if it worries you okay? Perhaps instead you could simply mention to Sirius that you fancy me? He’ll stop then you know.” You try to offer a kind smile but you know deep down it isn’t doing much.

Remus draws his lip between his teeth before shaking his head. His fluffy brown curls bouncing with the motion as he mutters “no,” a few times under his breath. “Sirius might not care, he might take it as a competition to get you first,” Remus points out as if it were obvious.

“Get me first?” You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at his assertion. “Rem, last time I checked, now I could be wrong, but you actually got me first due to the fact we’re dating.”

“But-Okay yes but if I tell him I fancy you then later he finds out we’re together, he might be mad at me!” Remus pleads. You roll your eyes finally turning your chair to face him completely.

“Remus Lupin,” your voice was a little more stern than intended, but you sure as hell knew he was listening now. “I’m almost positive Sirius Black is currently, as in as if this year, on his way to shagging a good portion of our year. Having said that, I highly, and when I say highly I mean highly doubt that he will care that you are shagging me.” You finish with a small sigh. Your eyes lock with Remus’s and you could see a smile beginning to form on his face. “What?” You question with a small laugh.

“Did you just accuse our best friend of shagging the whole year?” Remus chuckles.

“No!” You squeal in defense. “I said on his way to a good portion of our grade!”

Remus lets out another laugh before attempting to get serious again. “Well, you also said that I’m shagging your which is completely and utterly incorrect,” Remus mumbles lowly.

“Really Lupin? That’s what you got out of that? That Sirius is shagging girls and you’re still a virgin?” You let out an exasperated sigh at how absolutely impossible this boy is.

“Hey! You’re a virgin too!” Remus gasps, pointing at you defensively.

“Remus!” You cry with a small laugh. “Still not the point! My point is that he won’t care! If you want our friend to stop “hitting” on me, you’ve ought to say something.”

Remus locks eyes with you again before letting out a small groan. “I get the point, but now all I can think about is how I’m still a bloody virgin!”

Your eyes immediately flew shut as you burst out laughing at his comment. “Remus!” You wheeze while gripping your stomach. “We’re still virgins because my housemates would have a heart attack if you stepped foot into my dorm and your roommates don’t have a reason to leave, then stay gone long enough for us to do anything. Perhaps if you…”

“Well maybe we’ll just have to do it right here then.” Remus states matter-of-factly. Your eyes widened at his offer as you shake your head slowly.

“We can’t just get naked in the restricted section,” you say slowly.

“Says who?” Remus hums, glancing down at you. You look up again at his figure sitting on the desk before deciding to stand up. You shuffle your way between his legs and plant a soft kiss to his lips.

“Says me, I say we can’t get na-“ and suddenly your voice was muffled by your pajama top being taken off your body.

“What was that about you not getting naked? I’m pretty sure you’re the one with your top off,” Remus teases as he admires your completely bare chest. You let out a huff, unable to form any words as you quickly wrap your arms around yourself as cold air surrounds you.

“Remus it’s cold,” you whin eyeing your shirt.

“Well if you move your arms I can use my hands to warm your tits,” Remus snickers earning him a light flick in the arm.

“If you’re going to be an ass and offer to warm me up you might as well warm me up in the right way,” you growl in response. Remus raises an eyebrow at you, leaning back onto the books behind him.

“Oh?” He questioned, intrigued by your sudden dominance in the situation.

“Mhm. If you want to warm me up, use your whole body Remus Lupin. Go on. Fuck me.” You tempt. The smirk that once sat proudly on Remus’s face fell as he swallows thickly. It was only then that he realizes you were standing in front of him, hands on each side of his thighs, with you tits on full display. It was then that he realizes he’s never seen you naked before.

“Scared?” You whisper.

“Terrified.” Remus swallows.

You step back and slowly slip off your pajama shorts followed by your panties. Remus watches your movements with hawk like precision, his eyes never once leaving your body. He was so focused on how gorgeous your body looked he didn’t even realize you had been standing there waiting for him to say something for almost two minutes.

“Oh my,” Remus breaths. “You look, you look absolutely stunning. You truly are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” His eyes graze over your face, then your neck, and down your chest and stomach. He admires your hips and thighs, before slowly skimming down your bare legs. Remus felt like he was on fire. His whole body burns for you, in fact his pajama pants felt quite tight for you.

“Your turn to strip for me lover boy,” you hum, pulling Remus out of his trance. He nods quickly, sliding off the table to discard his shirt and pants, along with any other garments. His eyes meet yours once again, he looks so nervous.

Remus is in fact nervous, though the nervousness is overpowered by excitement. His body shivers as the cold air envelops his toned body. The moonlight shines on Remus pale skin perfectly, allowing you to see every scar left behind by the full moon. The atmosphere of the room was becoming tense due to you both standing there silent and naked.

“Y/N,” Remus whispers, slowly moving towards you. “May I….” His hand reaches forward but he stops himself just before he can make contact with the soft skin of your waist. May I touch you?” His voice is soft and unsure, like a small child who doesn’t know if they’re about to get in trouble.

But you smile at him, allowing Remus to relax under your loving gaze. “Of course you can touch me Remus, I love when you touch me.” You whisper in a hushed tone. Now you begin to move forward, stepping into his touch.

Remus makes quick work of his hands, running them down your waist and then to your hips before sliding them to you back side so he can gently grip your ass. You let out as soft moan as his lips connect with yours, drinking up the feeling of his body pressing against you. “Rem…” you mumble softly, “Can I please you?”

Your words seem to take Remus by surprise, since he pauses the kiss you were both sharing. His lips detach from yours so he can meet your gaze once again. “I-I would really like that, but only if you’re comfortable!” He quickly adds.

“Remus Lupin,” you sigh, “I’d do anything for you I swear,” your voice is like honey as you drag your hands down his body while dropping to your knees in front of him. You watch as Remus’s cock twitches, tempting you to put it in your mouth.

You decide to take it slow, first grabbing onto the base of his cock and jerking it forward. Remus let out a soft whine at your action, bucking his hips forward. His eyes begging for you to continue. You slowly begin to move your hand back and forth at a steady pace, enjoying the soft sounds that we’re tumbling from Remus’s lips.

After a few more jerks you found yourself leaning in with your mouth open, ready to take his cock.

You could hear his breath hitch as your lips made contact with his tip, sucking lightly on the sensitive head. You swirl your tongue around his tip, making sure to spread around the precum that was leaking from his aching cock.

You slowly lower you head fully onto his base while Remus’s hands fly to your hair, tugging lightly as you choke on his length. Remus was thick in your mouth, making it easy to feel every vein and curve as your head bobs up and down.

Remus feels hot from the pleasure, relishing in the much better feeling of your mouth rather than his hand. He loves the way you look while you suck him off. The way tears are forming in your eyes as you gag around his length. Your head continues to move up and down at a steady pace as you hallow your cheeks. Remus instinctively bucks his hips at the feeling, fucking into your throat.

A small moan escapes your lips at the sensation, wanting Remus to do it again. You pull away for a moment, “do that again Rem, I like the feeling of you fucking my throat,” you hum as your lips wrap around his cock once again.

Remus lets out a long moan, bucking his hips forward, wanting to fill your request. He begins to collect your hair in his hands, which allowed him to hold your head in place as he slowly picks up his thrusts.

You could tell Remus was becoming close by the way his abs flex each time he went deeper down your throat. Along with the way he was pushing you all the way down on his cock and holding you there a moment before thrusting back out again. This pattern continues a few more times before Remus let out a ragged gasp while pushing your head all the way down on his cock. You could feel the heat of his cum shoot down your throat as Remus releases you from his tight grip.

“Fuck, you did so well bunny.” Remus huffs, completely out of breath. He cups your cheek before sliding his hand under your chin to tilt your head upwards. You smile up at him while he smiles back at you. “Come on pretty girl, stand up for me. I want to bury my face in that beautiful cunt of yours to show you just how much I love you.”

A soft moan escapes your lips as you pick yourself up off the ground, leaning into Remus’s embrace to give him a small kiss.

“Come on bunny, up on the table for me,” he says pulling you over to where he was previously sitting. He helps you up onto the desk before dropping to his knees in front of your glistening folds. Spreading your legs, Remus brings your thighs over his shoulders so they can rest there, leaving you to lean back on the books behind you. You let out a moan as you tug at Remus’s soft locks, wanting him to bury his face between your thighs.

“What do you want bunny? Hmm? Use your words for me now,” Remus says with a chuckle.

You let out a small whine before replying with a soft whimper “P-please Remus, I want you to touch me.”

“See that wasn’t so hard now was it?” Remus hums with a smirk. His head slowly dipping between your slick coated thighs. His lips began pressing gentle kisses to the inside of your thighs as he travels upwards to your soaking cunt. With a small kiss to your folds, Remus slips his tongue in and gently licks your clit. Slowly lapping up all of your juices in the process.

“Mm bunny, you’re so fucking wet for me,” Remus coos between licks. Your legs begin to tremble as Remus presses his face deeper into your heat so he can press his lips against your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Oh Merlin Remus, please don’t stop,” you cry as Remus continues to devour you. His tongue flicking your clit at a constant pace as your hips slowly move upwards to meet his mouth. Your hips begin to grind into him, wanting to feel as much friction as possible as Remus softly takes your clit between his lips. You could feel your high coming on, causing your body to convulse under his soft touch. “Oh fuck Remus, please just like that, I’m going to cum,” you plead causing Remus to smirk against you. He maintains his movement as your body begins to convulse above him, your thighs squeezing together as your orgasm spreads throughout your shaking body.

Remus doesn’t stop until you’re whining that it’s too much. His lips only then pulling away from your sensitive cunt.

“You did so good for me bunny,” Remus praises as he kisses you softly. You can taste your cum on his lips making you squirm underneath him at the arousing memory that happened just moments ago.

His hot fingers make their way down your body and to your heat which is dripping from a mix of your orgasm and arousal for Remus. His fingers delicately trace patterns over your sensitive throbbing cunt before he slowly slips a finger into your entrance. You shiver at the sensation, quickly pressing your lips to Remus’s to hide your moan. Remus returns the kiss feverishly as his fingers pump in and out of you. You can feel as his fingers stretch you out, preparing you for his cock.

You let out a few more whimpers before whispering “Remmy please fuck me,” against his swollen lips. Remus pulls your body to the edge of the table, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist while one hand rests around your waist. His other hand rests on your thigh. You can feel the wetness from Remus fingers smear across your thigh as his thumb traces a circular motion into your soft skin. Shuffling forward slightly, Remus enters you with ease, allowing himself to fully press into you. You throw your head back as a strangled moan erupts from your throat at the new sensation. Remus groans and curses as he begins to thrust his hips into yours. Embracing the feeling of your cunt as it squeezes his cock. Remus tries his best to keep a steady rhythm and pace going, but the sensation is overwhelming as he slides in and out of you. His hips snapping into yours repeatedly.

He was overtaken by the smell of your perfume that lingered from earlier that day, along with the smell of your hair wash. Remus could already feel himself getting close for the second time that night, enjoying the sensation of being so close to you. He loves the way you feel, not just the way you squeeze around him but the way you feel in his arms. He loves the way your lips feel on his, the way you sound when you moan for him. Remus knew for a fact he would never want anyone else, he knew this before tonight, but tonight… tonight was worth every rough patch and every moment of hiding your relationship from others. Tonight was everything Remus needed to know that you are his and his alone.

You too felt this deep connection of never wanting Remus to let go of you. If it were possible you’d have him stay like this with you forever- fucking you dumb on the desk of the restricted section. His thrusts were soft yet ruthless, as he pounds into you over and over. You could hear the sound of his skin slapping against yours, the sound of him slipping in and out of your wet cunt. Over and over again Remus fucks into you, relentlessly. You could feel your body begin to shake as you press your chest into Remus’s. Loving the feeling of his body heat radiating off onto you.

“I’m so close Rem, you’re going to make me cum again…oh oh, ugh you feel so good,” you cry, allowing tears to slip down your cheeks as a string of moan flows from your chest.

“Cum for me bunny, cum on my cock,” Remus urges, kissing your lips gently a few times. His lips linger on yours for a moment as the feeling in your stomach finally burst causing a wave of pleasure to overtake your mind and body. You cry out Remus’s name into the kiss, trembling as he helps you ride out your high.

Even in your hazy state you could feel Remus’s cock begin to twitch inside you, signaling that he was close. His moans echoing through the library as his hips jut into you even deeper. Drawing in and out with bruising force. Remus could feel himself getting closer as he desperately chases his high. Craving to release deep inside of you.

His hips moved in a new rhythm, thrusting a few times before hitting deep within you and holding there for a moment before repeating his ruthless motion. You squirm under his touch as his grip tightens on your back.

“Oh fuck,” Remus huffs out, “You feel so good bunny,” Remus continues to praise you. “I’m so close pretty girl.”

A small whimper escapes your lips at the pet names, loving the way Remus continues to praise you as he begins to reach his high.

Within minutes Remus could feel himself beginning to release as his hips snap deep into yours, holding still to fill your cunt up as much as he could. The feeling of pleasure and relief was so overwhelming Remus practically collapses onto you as he comes down from his high. You wrap your arms around his sweaty body wanting to feel him as close as possible.

A small sigh escapes your lips as you breathe in Remus’s scent. “I love you Remus,” you whisper in his ear softly while he moans in response.

“I love you more,” he whispers back after a moment of comfortable silence. You smile to yourself as you pull Remus even closer to your naked body, not allowing him to pull out of you quite yet.

It wasn’t until after another beat of silence that Remus groans and begins to shuffle in your arms. “Let’s go get cleaned up baby, we can head to the perfect washrooms,” Remus coos softly in your ear as he slowly pulls out of you.

You let out a throaty moan at the loss, desperately wanting to feel him back in you. But you also desperately wanted to go with him to clean up. Remus steps away from the desk and quickly slides on his pajamas before picking yours up. Your legs were weak so you stay put on the table allowing Remus to come help dress you.

“Thank you Remmy,” you whisper as he pulls on your pajama shorts and helps you slip on your top. You can feel Remus’s cum drip down your legs but you know there isn’t much you can do until you’re both in the bathroom.

And so you allow Remus to lead you out of the library and into the empty washroom just down the corridor. He turns and makes quick work on locking the door behind him using a charm.

You feel yourself gravitate towards the large bath, turning the handles to allow the water to run while you empty some bubble bath solution into the tube as well. Remus eyes you lovingly, feeling eager to once again strip you, but this time be able to help you wash up. He begins to peel off his own cloths before approaching you to help you do the same. You moan under his touch, allowing for his hands to gently pull the fabric off your sensitive skin. His cool hands run over your bare hips and stomach while you step into the tub. Remus is quick to follow, taking a seat behind you.

You lay with your back pressing against Remus’s chest, simply enjoying the feeling of him. He is quick to lather his hands in body wash so he can run them up and down your body once again. His hands rub gently into your sore shoulders, hips, and thighs, making sure to lather you up well. He then begins to apply the body wash to himself, wanting to smell just like you.

“We have to wash our hair baby,” you say as you begin scooping water up and over your head in order to drench your hair. Remus lets out a soft laugh as he aids you, wetting his hair as well in the process.

“You look beautiful Y/N,” Remus gushes as he begins washing your hair from behind. His fingers gently massaging into your scalp, making sure to wash the sweat away. You hum at the feeling and thank him for the compliment.

“I can wash your hair Rem,” you offer, allowing yourself to turn around in the large tub so you’re straddling him. You squeeze some of the shampoo into your hands and begin to lather it into his wet curly brown locks. You mimic his actions of massaging his scalp in hopes to make him feel as good as you felt.

You hear him let out a sigh of pleasure at the feeling of your fingers working through his hair. He allows his hands to rest at your lower back just above you ass. You feel comfortable this way, relishing in the feeling of being pushed up against each other once again. You like being naked together, even without anything sexual going on. The feeling of simply feeling each other up was enough to give you a warm tingly feeling as you stayed in each other’s embraces.

“I’m going to dip you backwards to get the soap out,” Remus teases suddenly.

A smile breaks out on your face followed by a “don’t you dare Remus Lupin!”

“Then let’s dive under love, this is basically a small swimming pool, we could swim around a bit.” Remus hits back with an evident smirk on his face. You laugh, pushing off of him in order to dunk under the water, resurfacing almost just as quickly. Remus let out a laugh following your lead in going under the water.

You both splashed around for a bit, talking, laughing, and just overall enjoying one another’s presence.

“It’s getting quite late,” you say after almost an hour of you and Remus’s swimming.

“We can head up to bed if you’d like, you can stay in my bed?” Remus offers shyly.

You looked at him surprised, “you-you would let me do that?”

“Of course bunny,” Remus hums pressing a kiss to your warm lips, “I’m not ready to leave your side yet.” He says with full honesty. You nod quickly, excitement coursing through your body at the thought of sleeping with Remus. You want more than anything to fall asleep in his arms tonight and the fact that he was offering brought you immense joy.

Remus helped you out of the tub as you both dry off with a quick drying spell, once again slipping on your cloths quickly.

You hurry out the bathroom and down the corridor wanting to get to the Gryffindor common room as fast as possible. Once you arrive Remus says the code quickly, pulling you behind him and up to his room.

You both sneak in as quietly as possible, making sure not to wake the other two boys. You were the first to make it to Remus’s bed, quickly ducking under the covers as he follows suit.

“Goodnight bunny,” Remus whispers pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Goodnight Rem, I love you,” you whisper back.

“I love you more” Remus coos, snuggling close to your warm body.

+++

You and Remus wake up before the other three boys and head to the great hall for breakfast. Though the boys weren’t too far behind as they took their seats next to you at the table.

“You guys were in the library last night?” Sirius asks looking between you and Remus.

“Yeah we were,” Remus replies casually, trying to be not suspicious as possible.

“How come?” James quips up.

“Oh, I was reading some stuff in the restricted section. I was wondering about wandless magic and transformations. Remus promised he’d help me with my research.” You reply with a smile. Both boys nod and begin to dig into their food.

As the tables begin to fill up with students Dumbledore stands up at his podium calling everyone’s attention. “It has come to my attention that two students were out last night past curfew. We are unaware who these students are, just that they could be heard in the library last night. This is a reminder to all of you that leaving your dormitories past curfew is strictly forbidden and punishable with a detention. On top of this, I also must have the awkward conversation that student’s are not to participate in sexual activities on school grounds, especially in the library or classrooms past curfew. Thank you.”

Dumbledore went to sit down as a hushed whisper came over the students wondering who was in the library last night having sex.

“That’s funny,” James laughs, “weren’t you two in the library last night?”

You and Remus quickly exchange a look as the gears in your three friends brains finally begin to turn.

“Wait a damn minute-“ Sirius begins to stammer.

“Did you…did you shag in the library?” Peter squeaks out.

“Fuck.” Both you and Remus mutter as you quickly gather your things and make a beeline for the exit.

You can both hear the snickers behind you as Sirius hyperventilates about how Remus Lupin shagged his girl.

+++

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prythianpages · 2 months

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The Sun & the Moon | Rhysand x Reader

summary: Rhysand wants to write you the perfect poem for Valentine's Day and calls up Cassian and Azriel for help.

warnings: fluff and some implied smut/mainly suggestive tones.

Happy Valentine's Day! ♡

a/n: So I got a little ahead of myself because this can be read as a stand alone (all you have to know is that reader is a healer from Dawn Court.) But it is a part of my Wanna Be Yours series. All because I saw this tiktok sound of this poem and found it so beautiful. I did not write this poem, all credit goes to this creator. I also wanted to write a scene of Rhys struggling to write a poem (I had some saved on pinterest) in part two but had to scrap the scene out for other ones. Now, it's a win-win situation. Don't worry, there are not really spoilers in here for what I have planned. Just know this takes place after their happy ending (:

Valentine’s Day is approaching and Rhysand finds himself facing an unprecedented dilemma. Getting you a gift. A gift as special and perfect as you.

The pressure is high, and the responsibility lies squarely on his shoulders, particularly given the mating gift he presented to you. An expansive estate, where everything–the architecture, the decor, and furniture seamlessly marries the celestial essence of the sun and moon. The grand house paints an exquisite portrait of dawn, reflecting the enchanting blend of your old court and now new one.

So naturally, given his stress, he calls upon his brothers for help.

“You called us here because you don’t know what to get y/n for Valentine’s? y/n, your mate?” Cassian asked, carrying a mix of amusement and disbelief.

“I thought this was important,” came from Azriel.

Rhysand shoots Azriel a pointed look. “This is important.”

Azriel raises an eyebrow while Cassian grins. The two exchange a knowing glance that hinted at a shared understanding. Just as Rhysand prepared to delve into their minds to unravel their thoughts, they turned their attention back to him, nodding in unison.

"Alright, Rhys," Cassian began, clearing his throat dramatically, "How about flowers?”

Rhysand slumps into his desk chair, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “I get her flowers every week.”

Cassian mirrors Rhysand, seating himself on one of the chairs across from him. He throws his hands up in the air. “Then, I don’t know.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“How about you gift her something a little more sentimental?” Azriel offers. He crosses his arms deep in thought, resting his chin on one hand. “Something small but meaningful.”

Rhysand’s violet eyes light up, the silver specs in his irises glimmering like stars. “Like a poem! Y/n loves poetry."

The library in your home is stocked with a vast amount of poetry. Mainly romantic ones and then, the initial enthusiasm gives way to a fading spark.

Expressing the depth of his feelings verbally comes naturally to Rhysand. His silver-tongued declarations never fail to effortlessly convey how much you mean to him. He is the master of tone and inflection when it comes to expressing his feelings for you and when those are not enough, he loves to show you. Often. With that silver-tongue of his.

However, the transition to writing felt like a different art form altogether. It was challenging because how could he successfully capture the nuances of his love for you in writing? When he'd rather show you...

Rhysand runs a hand through his already disheveled hair, a frown creasing his face. He wants to do this for you but--

“I’ve never written a poem before.”

He looks up to Azriel for help, who in return merely shrugs with a smirk. “I don’t resort to poetry.”

“Oh! I got it!” Cassian, on the other hand, leans forward in his seat with nothing but pure mischief reflected in his gaze. “How about this? Roses are red, violets are blue. y/n, my love, I’m obsessed with you.”

The silence was loud. And then Azriel’s deep laughter fills the air. He finally takes a seat next to Cassian’s, sensing this is going to take awhile. “That is terrible.”

“Absolutely,” Rhysand agrees, his expression defeated. It doesn’t stop him from summoning a quill, ink and paper right in front of Cassian. “But jot that down...just in case.”

As the trio delved deeper into their poetic endeavors, Rhysand's frustration grew. Cassian's attempts became increasingly cheesy. Meanwhile, Azriel just sat back and watched, his shadows peeking curiously over Cassian’s and Rhysand’s papers. He would give his input when necessary, more inclined towards laughter than actually helping.

Nearly two hours later and drowning in parchment full of scribbled attempts at poetry, Rhysand lets out an exasperated sigh, finally excusing Cassian and Azriel. They leave all too quickly, slipping away before Rhysand could retract the words of dismissal that had escaped him.

There’s still a frown in his brow as his eyes graze over all the poems him and Cassian wrote together. He couldn't bear the thought of presenting any of these creations to you. The inked words on paper seemed to mock the depth of his feelings, failing to capture his love for you.

His eyes flutter shut as he allows his thoughts to drift toward you. The clock's hands have nudged past noon, and the familiarity of your daily rhythm dances in his mind. He knows your schedule as you know his. It’s right after your lunch so he knows you’re at your desk.

A mental portrait forms, capturing you leaning forward at your desk. Maybe a touch hunched over as you read over a patient's reports with that adorable furrow in your brow. There’s a window right behind you and given the sun is currently at its peak, he can imagine how it glows upon you like a radiant spotlight.

And when your eyes grow tired from reading, he can already picture the way you’d lean back in your chair, spinning around to face the sun. Your eyes would be fluttering shut like his at this moment. The sun would now be shining on you, its golden hues cascading upon you in an ethereal glow where every beloved feature is highlighted. A living embodiment of warmth and brilliance.

You're his sun but you’re also his moon.

His eyes snap open, his grip on the quill tightening. Before he knows it, words are spilling effortlessly onto the blank parchment in front of him as he lets his emotions flow. He feels a tug down the bond, as if you could sense his thoughts, and with a smile, he echoes the sentiment. He couldn’t wait for you to read it.

Valentine’s day dawns a week later, and Rhysand’s excitement for you to read his poem is palpable. It took all his restraint not to give it to you as soon as he finished it.

Unfortunately, you weren’t able to take the day off. It didn’t matter as your plans for tonight were simple–just a lovely dinner together, made by Rhysand, in the privacy of your home. All that mattered is that you had tomorrow off.

Rhysand waits for you right outside the steps of the clinic, not wanting to distract you from your last reports. He could feel your presence grow nearer and nearer through the bond. He tugs on it, a silent urge to pull you to him faster. The door opens and you’re rushing down the steps to meet him.

Throwing your arms around his neck, you bury your head into his chest, inhaling softly. He feels his heart flutter and he tightens his arms around you, holding you close in his embrace. “Hi, love,” you murmur.

He pulls away, cradling your face in his hands. He smiles and then kisses you, pouring all his love and devotion to you. A promise of what’s to come later. “Hey, beautiful. You ready to go home?”

“Always. As long as it’s with you,” you tell him, voice still breathless as your hand effortlessly entwines with his.

Rhysand’s lips twitch and he finds himself melting at your words. Instinctively, he averts his gaze, warmth flooding his cheeks as he bites his lip. He intended to walk you home as Velaris had decorated the streets with hearts, flowers and pink garland. He gives your hand a squeeze and winnows you both directly to the comfort of your home instead.

He reluctantly lets you go so that you can wash up and change.

When you join him in the dining room, the glamor he had placed earlier lifts, revealing an exquisite dinner that has your stomach growling. Cute hearts, flowers and confetti adorn the table and walls around you, filling your heart with a cozy glow.

As his gaze lifts from the table, his eyes widen, pupils flaring.

“Come here, you,” he breathes, pushing his chair back just enough for you to have space to settle onto his lap.

“I’m hungry,” you say, a small warning delivered with a touch of mirth. His eyes sparkle at you with an unmistakable gleam as he drags a finger up the fabric of your red dress. But your body betrays your words, leaning in to his teasing touch.

“Me too," Rhysand replies with a smirk and it's evident he's not referring to the food plated in front of you.

Your stomach growls and he chuckles, resting his hand on your waist instead. “Let’s eat then.”

The two of you dive into the dinner Rhysand made, feeding each other and catching up with one another. You’re nearly in a food coma, collapsing into Rhysand’s chest when you're done. He rests his head on your shoulder, his strong arms securing their place around your waist.

“I got you something,” he whispers against your neck, lifting his head only to speak his next words. “Well, I wrote you something.”

“You wrote something for me?”

He takes delight in the surprise and excitement in your voice. Raising a hand, he retrieves his valentine card from the pocket realm. The only place he deemed fit to hide his poem for you. He’s too busy pressing his lips against your neck, to hide the giddiness he feels inside, to notice his mistake.

“Roses are red. Violet’s are–”

“Not that one!” Rhysand exclaims, body tensing behind you as he rips it from your hands. “I did not write that one!"

You can’t help but laugh. “Then who did?”

“Cas.”

“Cassian wrote a poem for me?” You reply, eyes widening slightly as you shift in his lap to face him. You're thankful the dress you chose has a loose skirt as it allows you to move freely and settle a thigh on either side of him.

“Gods, no,” Rhysand groans, cursing himself for not discarding that poem once he had written his. He leans forward, burying his head into your chest for a moment to hide his embarrassment.

“I asked Cas and Az for help. I didn’t know what to get you because–well, you’re perfect to me and nothing could ever amount to the love I feel for you. Az suggested I give you something small but meaningful and I know how much you love poems but I’ve never written one so then–”

You interrupt Rhysand with a soft and sweet kiss. When you pull away, Rhysand chases after you but you stop him, pressing your fingers his lips. He plants a kiss on your fingers, holding your gaze.

“Let me read it. The poem you actually wrote.”

“Okay,” Rhysand breathes as he summons another red envelope from the pocket realm. He holds it out to you. “But don’t laugh.”

“Never,” you reassure him as you take the envelope, fingers eagerly tearing it open.

He watches with bated breath, a cascade of emotions swirling within him, as your eyes gracefully traverse from left to right, absorbing every emotion he poured out to you. It's endearing—the tender way your expression, while immersed in his poem, mirrors the very sentiment he wore on his face while crafting it for you. Your lips curve into a radiant smile, and the spark in your eyes begins to glisten with heartfelt tears. In that moment, he can feel the ripples through your shared bond, overwhelming and flooding with an abundance of pure, unbridled love.

“I love it,” you manage to say as you lift your gaze to meet his again. Holding the poem to your chest, you store into the safety of your pocket realm. “I’m going to frame it.”

“I love you,” Rhysand says and then kisses you. “So, so much.”

“I love you, too,” you whisper against his lips and then wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him even closer to you. “Now, it’s my turn to give you your gift.”

this is the poem:

"If the sun and moon had a baby, it would be you.

Cause you are so beautiful.

You radiate light like the sun.

And you bring me calmness like the moon.

You balance me out like the earth and that’s just the beginning of everything you do.

I think that you’re so gorgeous and sometimes it brings tears to my eyes.

Because how could I get so lucky to have someone so beautiful like you in my life.”

a/n: I thought this poem was really cute, especially given the sun/moon theme of this series. It's 11:58pm where I live so technically, I made it before Valentine's Day was over lol. I apologize if there are any typos. I tend to make them a lot and switch words out (like I caught myself writing lips instead of lap) when I'm tired. This is exactly the type of vibe i'm going for, for Rhys in this series. It's a scene from a kdrama, where the male fell hard first for the female and he's totally endeared by her. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

tagging: @minnieoo , @phoenixgurl030 (I know this isn't part two but I tagged y'all just in case, y'all were interested ♡)

#rhysand x reader #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x you #rhysand imagine #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #acotar x you #acotar fanfiction #rhysand fanfiction #rhys wby au

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kaeyachi · 9 months

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NEW CANON KAEYA TIDBITS FROM THE KAEYA HANGOUT PT. 1

The heavy lore post will be posted later! These ones are just more on his personality, likes and dislikes, and brief history hehehe

SPOILERS BELOW!!

I'm doing things in bullet point form coz wow there's a lot

Was the gentle and polite child! Also frequently got sick. Addie frequently took care of him in those times hehe. Is it possible that this is because of his experiences prior to getting to Mond? Travelling as a child would have made him vulnerable to tougher weather and rapidly at that. I doubt that food comes easy too. Additionally, HE WAS LEFT IN A STORM. I still think Kaeya is gentle and polite, though he definitely gives the face of charming and sly (if it benefits him and it works then might as well keep it going!)

Kindness is so inherent in him that he automatically does kind acts. He only acts like he has an ulterior motive, and tbh? I bet that act is only to keep people away. I think I made a oneshot about this saying his biological father may be worried about this tendency? Or something similar. Worryingly enough, Kaeya clearly has a hard time accepting words of affirmation from literally everyone. Heartbreaking to see in action.

Diluc is a menace, asking Kaeya to help him in his mischief, tsk. Kaeya apparently also helps Diluc in the punishments he receives. Kaeya ended up doing the most of it :( (what are the odds of Kaeya also doing Diluc's paperwork while said redhead was out on the field? What if the reason Kaeya wasn't with Diluc and Crepus during that one fateful 18th birthday because he was covering for Diluc's shift...). Tbh? Kaeya never stopped covering for Diluc. Even now, he is still covering for Diluc (DKH).

This one set off alarms in my mind. Kaeya was apparently not a very good liar when he was younger. I now definitely think that Crepus knew Kaeya lied about his origins. The question is, did Diluc know Kaeya was not a strong liar before their fight? Or did he remember afterwards and was immediately faced with even more guilt?

He might actually have a sweet tooth! Dear god look at the number of desserts he ordered. Do note that Death Afternoon is a mixture that lessens the bitterness of Dandelion Wine. Additionally, Kaeya wasn't interested in wine when he was younger, he only grew into it because it reminds him of home after he left :( The Cider Lake drink is also sweet! And I'm guessing plain chicken mushroom skewers weren't sweet enough, so he decided to add fruits to it. I THINK CREPUS ACCIDENTALLY GOT HIM INTO LIKING ALCOHOL AFTER CREATING THE CIDER LAKE DRINK LMAO. Crepus suceeding in preventing alcohol intake from one child and ended up giving it to the other

Fairly sure he was being flirted on here by an entire group of mercenaries and just didn't realize which would make things extremely funny. They saw him and immediately went "we need to see that body in the dance floor ASAP". What if he doesn't realize he is being flirted on until he is slapped in the face with a confession? It's also funny if he flirts up a storm and not realize people are flirting back lmao

So I was right... he was not kicked out. He moved out on his own. Diluc is fine with him frequenting Dawn Winery, expects it even (lol my short 1 shot makes sense now). The staff keep asking him to come back and visit more frequently. Adelinde says that Kaeya is always part of the family. They become so happy when Kaeya comes back, it's like a weight is lifted off of everyone's chests. IT'S KAEYA WHO KEEPS SAYING HE'S A GUEST AND SEPARATING HIMSELF OUGH. He's the one trying to stay away after all :((( Let's summarize this: Kaeya was the sickly, quick to bruise, kind, gentle, and polite child who everyone in the staff (and Diluc) adores and still treats like he is their baby, but said baby of the family KEEPS LEAVING. Go home Kaeya!

Klee keeps looking for Kaeya! And Kaeya reads her bedtime stories!!! Hearing her voice ask where Kaeya was broke my heart, I think I'd like that used for angst purposes. Kaeya is once again letting a mischievous pyro user get away with causing mischief. Kaeya you enabler lmaaaoooo. Kaeya frequently rescues Klee from solitary confinement, done so enough times that Klee now does the same for him (I bet she thinks Kaeya is in solitary confinement whenever he's busy doing paperwork). Not to Kaebedo/Albekae you guys (I am Kaebedo/Albekae-ing you guys), but I'm fairly sure Kaeya and Albedo spend so much time together with Klee. Again, frequent enough that Albedo has tons of drawings of Kaeya (the 3 brushstrokes is a popular meme, but it actually is just a way to say that he has drawn Kaeya a lot. Bet he could draw Kaeya with his eyes closed haha). HE GOT THEM MATCHING GIFTS THATS ADORABLE

Speaking of gifts, he's a great gift giver! He really listens to people's needs and wants. What a thoughtful man (Diluc was right in his letters in hidden strife though. TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF KAEYA). Speaking of, I'm guessing Kaeya is rich? Because I'm fairly sure the gifts were bought with his own pocket money and thus the huge amount of travel funds remaining (the gifts are expensive, surely it should have put a dent to the said funds had he used them)

THAT IS ALL FOR NOW, I MIGHT MAKE A PART 2 BECAUSE I WANT TO TACKLE MORE STUFF BUT THE PHOTO LIMIT GOT TO ME

#kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya hangout #kaeya hangout spoilers #genshin spoilers #other topics i want to discuss are diluc and his blatant big bro weakness of doing what the baby says #dude puts kaeya's gifts on display like a parent who would stick his child's drawings on a freezer #another one is that KOF captains are ALL actually rich and might not have realized that the money flowing around is a lot lol #one more is kaeya's strict distinction between informant and friend. His information network must be insane and frankly? Self-made and grow #we also see kaeya as a quick thinker multiple times and one with great strategies and solutions at that... what a skill #ALL THOSE AND MORE FOR PT 2. DAMN YOU PHOTO LIMIT

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 5 months

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Request from @captainswintersoldier: Can you please write a story where reader goes back in time and meets her boyfriend Bucky in the 1940s?

Word count ~3.3k

Warnings: smut, p in v, mild fingering described, angst, mention of blunt force trauma and cardiac arrest (of original characters) and some comforting Bucky at the end.

A/N: shoutout to @samodivaa for your help and support! Love you!

The mission was simple: go back and gather intel. It was a small change but the team hoped it would correct a lot of wrongs.

You were nowhere near Brooklyn, no chances of anyone recognizing you. The risks were negligible. Or so you thought. You had infiltrated the barracks under the guise of a trained nurse. It wasn’t a tall order, you had almost completed your training and you knew your stuff, but occasionally your imposter syndrome would make you feel a little anxious about your activities.

It wasn’t something that concerned you too much tonight though, as you danced at the center of a throng of burly WWII soldiers. You’d completed your mission and you could relax until the time came for you to return home. There had been multiple offers of drinks but you needed to keep your wits about you. You had duties to fulfill and a cover to maintain.

Duty did call halfway through the evening. Two inebriated soldiers had fallen victim to their own drunken rambunctiousness and one of them needed stitches to their temple. You had to tear yourself away from the festivities to suture up the intoxicated infantry recruit and now had to clean up the mess he had made in your infirmary.

As you worked you sang quietly to yourself.

“The good old days, the honest man,

The restless heart, the Promised Land,

A subtle kiss that no one sees,

A broken wrist and a big trapeze.”

You were in the process of replacing your supply of gauze supply and in your eagerness you'd picked up more than your arms could handle.

“Oh well, I don't mind if you don't mind,

'Cause I don't shine if you don't shine.

Before you go,

Can you read my mind?”

You might have been a little too enthusiastic with your hip swaying because without warning you had stepped back and stumbled over the leg of the examination couch. Several packets of gauze went flying in every direction as you fell backwards. You expected to find yourself lying on the floor, but a strong arm was wrapped around your waist and lifted you back up slowly.

A green uniform came into view and you steadied yourself on a sturdy chest before you came face to face with a pair of dazzlingly familiar blue eyes. A gasp slipped past your lips as you took in the features of the handsome young soldier holding you upright. His eyes were the same as the ones you knew and loved, except they lacked the haunted look you’d come to know. Instead you saw glimmers of mischief and excitement, and was that lust?

“Well hello there, gorgeous. You trying to read my mind?” Bucky flashed you a glittering grin.

“I- what are you doing here?”

Confusion painted your features and you extracted yourself from his arms.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. You'd checked, he wasn't supposed to be here!

“See the thing is, I couldn't just let a gorgeous woman just spend all her time here alone while everyone else is out there enjoying the party.”

His words had you blushing like a schoolgirl.

“You're not supposed to be here, Sergeant Barnes.”

“You know who I am?” His eyes lit up.

You rolled your eyes but your smile gave away the fact that you were charmed.

“I've seen you around,” you lied but your tone said something different altogether.

Stop flirting! Everything about him brought out your playful side.

“And I've definitely noticed you. I've never seen anyone as stunning as you.” He took your hand and lifted it to his chest, just around his heart.

A soft blush stained your cheeks and you could feel your heart fluttering wildly. How was he having such a powerful effect on you? This man in front of you was maybe ten years younger than you were, yet here you were swooning and melting into his arms.

“Say, if you're stuck in here, how about I bring the party to you?”

“Oh? What do you suggest?”

Bucky sauntered over to the window of the infirmary and pushed it open to let in the sound of music.

“May I have this dance?” Bucky put his hand out to you with his palm facing up as an invitation to you.

You couldn’t resist the temptation to take his hand, letting Bucky snake his arm around your waist and pull you into his chest. He smelled exquisite and you closed your eyes to take in his scent. It was only then that you realized that the fingers that he had pressed into your waist were made of flesh and bone. Bucky still had his left arm and he was holding you with it. You ran your hand along it.

“You like what you feel?” he smirked at you.

You shook your head with incredulity at how much confidence and sex appeal that was oozing off the man. It was like he was a totally different person from the man you loved. He probably was. Your Bucky had been through a huge transformation, lost everything he knew and loved. The man in front of you now was the caterpillar version of your boyfriend, but you couldn’t help but be captivated by him. Silently you let him lead as you swayed to the distant music.

As the music finally faded away, Bucky stilled but didn't let you go.

“So are we going to stand here all night?” you asked.

“It's just… I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as beautiful as you.”

“And what are you going to do about it?”

Ordinarily, you would never have been so bold as to speak to a man you’d just met in this sort of tone. But you knew Bucky, even if he didn’t know you. Now you were just testing his boundaries. And true to his form, Bucky leaned into you, holding you close, he pressed his lips against yours. His kiss was exquisite, familiar but different all at the same time. It was exciting and somehow terrifying. For the briefest of moments, you wondered what your boyfriend would think, before you put the thought to the back of your mind and let him kiss you again.

A few days later, you found yourself in the midst of a crisis. One of the new recruits was in the middle of a training session when he was slammed in the chest with a shield as he was brandishing a bayonet. The kid went down like a tonne of bricks, lying unconscious on the floor.

You were walking past when you heard his fellow cadets’ panicked shouts. In a flash you were at his side assessing him. A few shouts in his ear, your ear to his mouth and your fingers on his neck told you that he wasn't breathing and his heart wasn't beating.

“What happened?” you demanded from the scared men standing around watching you as you started CPR.

A few stuttered words and you extrapolated the rest. It was a long shot and you'd only ever seen them successfully perform the maneuver on television, but what the hell!

You lifted your hand and made a fist and brought it down forcefully in the center of his chest. The reaction was immediate, the young boy opened his eyes, gasping and coughing.

Your legs collapsed under you from the kneeling position you'd been in, Your heart wasn't the only thing that was pounding and you thanked your lucky stars that you'd had the guts to make the move. But your job wasn't done yet. The recruits had gathered themselves together and fetched a stretcher and carried their teammate to the infirmary. It took you around an hour to make sure the newbie was stable, but as you worked you could see Bucky hovering around out of the corner of your eye.

“Hey you.” You smiled at Bucky as you closed the door to the now stable and sleeping cadet. “You don't need to worry about Simmons, he'll be just fine.”

“Yeah, I'm sure he will be.” Bucky approached you slowly. “How’re you doing?”

“I'm alright,” you answer, finally noticing the predatory look in his eyes.

The blue of his eyes was darker than you remembered them. It made your heart skip a beat and you wondered if you too needed to be hooked up to an EKG machine like poor Simmons.

“I'm glad.”

His hand came to rest on your waist. Bucky stood in front of you. When had he gotten so close?

“Bucky?” you questioned his subtle approach.

“Hmmm?” he hummed, his other hand was on your hip.

He took another step forwards, pushing you backwards. Again and again until you were inside your office. As soon as the door closed he had you up against it, one hand on the small of your back and the other cupping your face.

“Bucky,” you muttered breathlessly. “What-”

There wasn't time for you to finish your question as his lips claimed yours with a hunger that you'd not seen from the young man before. Until now he had only been sunshine and roses with his words and demeanor.

But here and now, there was no doubt in Bucky's mind what he wanted from you. He was desperate, he was hard, he needed you. His thoughts were different, dirty, downright sinful. They poisoned his mind, like a plague. He was going to take what he wanted, right here against the wall of your infirmary.

You moaned as his lips moved down to your neck. Hands roamed your body as his hips thrusted into yours. There was no mistaking the erection he was sporting. He was making you feel like Niagara Falls under your skirt. Bucky slipped a hand underneath it, pulling aside your panties dipping his fingers inside you.

“Buck-” you tried to suppress a moan.

He answered by spreading his fingers and stretching your walls, making you whimper and whine into his neck. You dug your nails and teeth into his exposed skin as his thumb found your clit. The way he growled your name had you teetering on the edge of an orgasm and your walls fluttered around his fingers expectantly.

“Now why'd ya have to go get ahead of yourself, huh Doll?” Bucky pulled his fingers out of you and licked your essence off them.

“Bucky,” you whined. You started unbuckling his pants, pulling him free from the constraints of his briefs.

His fingers ran over your bare ass and down your thighs as you prepped him with a few pumps. He moved closer so you could line him up to your dripping entrance before he slammed into you with relative ease. You arched your back as he ran his fingers through your hair and tugged at the strands. Even after all this time, you couldn’t get used to his size. Bucky shoved his fingers in your mouth, filling it and muffling your carnal moans. His mouth was close to your ear and you could hear him mumbling a string of profanities into it along with something about how tight you were and how ruined you’d be when he was done with you.

He removed his fingers from your mouth to grab your hips again, pulling you towards him as he slammed into you repeatedly. He lifted your leg, opening you up before pushing deeper inside you. Then his tip brushed over that perfect spot inside you and your mouth was open but no sound left it. You wanted to scream but all you could do was gasp as he fucked the air right out of your lungs.

“Pleeeease.”

“Please what, Doll? Use your words, darling.” His mouth was on yours, swallowing your moans like they were the oxygen his body craved.

“Right there, Bucky. Please.”

You could feel the smirk on his lips as he thrusted his hips to hit your g-spot. And you knew the pace he was keeping would be your undoing.

“Faster Buc-”

Your young soldier had no more smart mouthed comments for you, just rocking his hips faster, his rock hard member filling you completely. Your body quivered dangerously as your orgasm built up, his cock twitched inside you. He was close too, every wanton sound pushed you closer and closer to your release, until you finally climaxed. Your walls clenched around him, legs shaking uncontrollably as he growled curses and filled you up with his white hot cum. You clutched his shoulders tightly as you both rode out your highs, panting until you felt like you could breathe again.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Bucky put a finger under your chin and tilted your face up so you were looking into his eyes.

Why did his dazzling blue eyes have this dumbfounding effect on you? Slowly and gently he pulled out of you, pulling your panties back into place.

“Don’t want to spill anything, right?” he grinned at you before turning slightly to tuck himself away.

His words made you flush in a way that you hadn’t done since he had strutted into your infirmary. Present Bucky had never spoken to you like this, he was so much more restrained than this rapscallion in front of you.

“I have to go.”

He surprised you with a deep but gentle kiss before disappearing as quickly as he had arrived, leaving you feeling a little unsettled.

The next time he came to find you was under different circumstances.

“Hey you,” you greeted him fondly, picking at the collar of his uniform jacket.

He pulled you to the side, one of his hands grazing your back while the other hand wrapped around your arm to guide you around the corner. The absence of his usual swagger should have alerted you to the oncoming storm.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. “Mmm, Buck!” you murmured as you felt something hard pressed against your leg. “Not out here!”

“Well it just so happens that I have a bottle of pretty good rye in my pocket.” He smirked at you.

“Oh and here I thought you were just happy to see me.”

“I’m always happy to see you, Doll.” The smile on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes and you were well versed in reading Bucky’s face, he hadn’t changed as much as you’d originally thought.

“What’s wrong, Bucky?” you asked tentatively.

“What makes you think something is wrong?”

You run your fingers over the small ridges on his brow and around his eyes, the ones you’ve seen far more often than you ever hoped to. And now you could see them on the young soldier’s face.

“I feel like you know me better than I know myself.”

“Maybe I do,” you whispered against his lips.

The gesture was intimate but you’d suddenly been gripped by fear and you wanted to keep him close. He looked down at the floor, not making eye contact with you, his hands were stuffed in his pockets and he shuffled his feet nervously. When he finally looked back up at you, sadness shining in his beautiful blue eyes, you knew why he had come to you.

“Don’t go,” you shook your head.

Bucky sighed. “I have to, Doll.”

“Please,” you begged.

“I gotta go help my friend out, my unit.”

“I’m sure they’d manage fine without you. Stay here with me.” You were clutching at straws.

“When Captain America asks for your help, you can’t say no.”

“You can. I’m sure Steve would understand. He’s your best friend.”

“That’s exactly why I have to go. Someone needs to keep that punk’s nose out of trouble.”

Words failed you, you knew he wouldn’t stay. Not even for you. You flung your arms around his neck, your whole body trembling with fear and anxiety. “Please,” you whispered into his neck, over and over.

Bucky held you close, his hands wrapped tightly around your back until you fell silent. Eventually he pulled your arms down from his neck so he could see your face. His palms cupped your cheeks and he brushed your tears away with the tips of his thumbs.

“Don't worry, Doll. I won't be gone long.”

Fresh tears leaked from your eyes at his words. You knew the truth, what future waited for him. There was nothing more you could say that would change his actions. It would be like a leopard trying to change its spots. Not that you would try, Bucky's loyalty to his friends was one of the things you loved the most about him.

“I'll be back soon. I promise.”

You wanted to tell him not to make promises he couldn't keep but you just stood there, relishing the feeling of his left hand on your face. It felt as though time was standing still, you didn't want things to change.

But just as the thought formed in your head, the moment was interrupted by a distant yell. Bucky turned to the sound of his name being called.

“I gotta go, Doll.” He pressed his lips against yours one last time before backing away slowly until the hand he was holding couldn’t stretch any further.

He flashed you a sad smile. You closed your eyes to blink away your tears and when you opened your eyes again he was gone.

It felt like hours that you stood against the wall, it was the only thing holding you up as you reeled from the loss. The reverie you'd lost yourself in was broken by a strong vibration from the hidden device in your pocket.

It was time for you to go home.

You stumbled into your office and activated the device that would take you back to your own time.

The journey was tumultuous and you staggered out of the other side of the wormhole, collapsing straight in your boyfriend's arms. Sobs wracked your body as he held you tightly and you mumbled muffled apologies into his chest.

Bucky looked around at the others bewildered by your reaction. He felt your arms and legs looking for signs of injuries that might have upset you.

“I'm here, Doll. I'm here. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

He cradled you into his arms and carried you away from the other watching Avengers. Finally your breathing slowed and your tears dried up. You looked up at Bucky’s anxious features.

“Hey.” Bucky smiled down at you.

“Hey,” your voice squeaked as you answered him.

“Wanna talk about it? ‘Cause not gonna lie, Doll, I'm kinda worried. What happened?”

“You weren't… you weren't supposed to be there.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were there, Buck.”

“I was?”

“You don't remember?”

Bucky shook his head. “You saw me?”

“Yeah. You were pretty cute.” You smiled shyly, wondering how Bucky would take this.

“Did I hurt you?”

You hated the fear behind his words.

“No, Bucky, of course not. But I-”

“What?”

You felt ashamed of what you were about to tell him and you looked down at your hands when you made your confession. “I knew that if I stopped you leaving, that I'd lose you here. I'm sorry. I was selfish. Everything you've been through is my fault.”

Bucky sighed, he hated seeing you so upset, especially over something that you were never responsible for.

He took your face in his hands, the same way he had done in 1940. The only difference now was his cold vibranium fingertips against your flushed cheek. “Look, I still have a lot of gaps in my memory from… before. But one thing I know for a fact is that you aren't responsible for what happened. Got that?”

You sighed and let your boyfriend envelope you in his arms. Maybe one day you'd believe him.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #skittle's requests

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myfictionaldreams · 11 months

Note

Hello it's me your bestie! I am here to request some Loki smut! She's tired of Loki's lies and she tries to leave only for him to stop her and they get into a huge argument that leads to rough sex Dom!Loki sub!reader with biting and dirty talk maybe some oral. Also can you do a part with his eyes change and his skin goes blue? Your the best 💓💓💓💓💓

My King // Loki x Fem!Reader

A/N: Hey bestie! Thank you for your request, I hope you enjoy reading!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, manipulation, dom/sub, frost giant!Loki, huge size difference, size kink, choking, oral (f and m receiving), deepthroat, throat bulge, marking, biting, rough sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, dirty talk, pet names, begging

Words: 4.1 k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Loki Laufeyson, the Prince of Asgard, God of Mischief with a silver tongue that had eloquently promised to be your equal in every way that was feasibly possible. His wife, his life soul partner, his equal.

Of course, this was not the truth that came from his wicked mouth, over the last few years, there seemed to be fewer truths spoken.

“You’re my priority”.

“I’m doing this for us”.

“This is the last time I try to get the throne”.

Or your personal favourite: “I won’t leave you again”.

All sickening lies because if you were at all his priority or his equal, he wouldn’t be leaving you all alone for weeks, months or even years as he had been exiled, presumed dead or having to live on a different planet after his plans to take over the throne once again failed and caused a catastrophe for you. You’d had enough, you couldn’t live like this anymore.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Loki’s honeyed voice inquired from where he now stood at the entrance to your shared chamber doors.

“I’m going to stay with my mother,” you revealed without further explanation, not stopping with your motions of packing a few of your favourite dresses into a bag.

The sound of the chamber doors shutting echoed around the spacious golden room but you ignored him, even when his deep chuckle seemed to drift through the air, bouncing off of the walls from every direction. You loathed when he reacted like this, laughing off your words like a dismissal of your feelings as he strutted around with arrogance and confidence to belittle your emotions.

“Are you now, my pet?” he asked in a silky smooth voice.

Your body jolted to a stop at the name, he knew what that name did to you, knew how it caused your core to warm with arousal. Shaking your head to try and stay on track with your plans, you couldn’t let him distract you so quickly from your plan, he had failed to listen to your complaints before so you needed to prove that you weren’t messing around this time and actually get some space at your mother's.

Whilst continuing to fill your bag with the essentials, you maintained your confidence, “I am, and you know exactly the reason as to why Loki, I can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what, exactly?” he pondered from somewhere in the room but you didn’t glance over your shoulder to check.

Your frustrations grew as you huffed out a hot breath, losing more of your patients, pulling on the drawstring of your bag with more strength than you’d needed to. “I can’t keep waiting around for you to return from being exiled”. Turning on the spot to face him directly, you were only met with an empty room, Loki nowhere in sight. Your frustration swiftly turned into anger, not in the mood for his magical tricks, knowing he had hidden from you, “I’m done with your tricks, Loki!”

Without waiting for his response, you quickly walked across the luscious room, shoulders back, bag in hand and deciding that if he said another word, you would just ignore him. However, as you research the door, you were slightly surprised that he hadn’t spoken but isn’t that what you wanted?

Lifting your hands to turn the door handle, your fingertips slide through the golden object as it disappeared before your very eyes. Loki was up to his mischief and you weren’t having it, attempting to push your body against the 15-foot high doors but they were sealed shut.

Burning hot anger rose in the centre of your chest, “You can’t keep me caged in here, Loki!”

His only response was a deep chuckle that once more echoed around the room so you couldn’t tell where it was coming from as you chucked your bad onto the floor, turned to face the empty space and took three large steps until you were away from the door.

“Stop hiding and open the fucking doors, Loki. I’m leaving. I’m fed up with waiting around for you, with your quest to take the throne! I’ve been on my own for too long! Why can’t you just be happy with what you’ve got? With me by your side and as the crowned Prince of Asgard? Why do you have to keep fighting to be the King?!”

A cool hand was suddenly enveloped around your throat and with the sheer size of his long, magical fingers, they nearly wrapped the entire way around your neck. Immediately, you knew you’d said the wrong thing, but with your rising anger, you were bound to say anything to cause a reaction from him which clearly worked as he visualised himself behind you.

Loki never raised his voice around you, even with the numerous arguments shared between you both, he always kept his voice to a balanced level which could be sometimes infuriating as it made you look like the one losing control but it was just another way for him to manipulate you.

So when he began talking in his steady tone, you couldn’t initially tell if he was angry or calm until he finished his sentence. “Do you believe I am unworthy of sitting on the throne then, my love? Is this your big confession after all of these years?”

You were sure he could feel the increase of pounding of your pulse from where he held your neck as your anxiety raised tenfold, trying to recover the words you had said, trying to take them back. “You know that’s not what I meant-”, his hand squeezed ever so slightly harder, not cutting off your airway but more as a warning to remain silent.

“Are you sure about that? Because from what I can interpret, you are unwilling to support my attempts at taking what is rightfully mine”.

This was not what you meant at all, you’d been there every step of the way and he deserved every ounce of glory that he sought after. He was your King, and knowing his hardship with Odin and brother Thor, you supported his journey to the throne but when was it enough? How could you call him your husband if he was hardly even there for you? Attempting to pull free of his grip, you stepped to the side and tried to turn to face him but he held firm, stepping with you so that you still were unable to see him.

Loki tutted, “Oh, there’s no getting out of this one now pet, you’ve betrayed my trust, do you really think I would be letting you out of here again?” You could feel the brush of his lips against the ridge of your ear, causing a shiver to brush through your body as his breath tickled the fine hairs on your face. That damned nickname again, the ownership of it as well as the restraint around your neck was causing your emotions to feel all over the place, mixed between anger and arousal, the submissive part of your brain unsure of what to do. You wanted to make him happy and prove you didn’t mean the words you said, wishing to explain that of course you supported him, you were always loyal but you couldn’t live without him forever, needing to be with him.

Your shoulders visibly sagged in defeat, losing the spark of anger as you were now resorting to back-peddling and trying to apologise for what you’d accidentally said. Opening your mouth, Loki didn’t squeeze his hand, allowing you to talk for a moment. “I just don’t want to be by myself”, you sounded defeated and timid, wanting to lean into his body but once more, his grip on your throat tightened, a sign to keep still again.

Loki’s lips were still hovering close to your ear and you could feel his mouth shape into a grin, “My lonely Princess, have I been treating you unfairly, wife?”

Your eyes shuddered closed at his acknowledgement of your union from all of those many years ago. There was always something so possessive about the way he uttered the word wife, and much like the word pet, he knew exactly what he was doing. Loki rarely said the word wife as well, usually using the pet name “my love”, when referring to you so he was really trying his best to rile you up from angry to aroused.

“Is this what you would prefer instead? For me to stay chained to our chambers and look after my lonely wife, rather than take my claim for the throne? Hmm?” You couldn’t answer even if you wanted to. His taunts were really messing with your mind, confused now between apologising and needing to relieve the tension between your legs at the thought of him naked, waiting in your bed every day just to pleasure you, oh his silver tongue was really tempting today.

Loki then pulled your body flushed against his causing you to whimper with need, wanting to feel more of him. “Shall we find out what you think?” Loki asked with a hint of humour and you already knew what his plan was as his other hand drifted to the top of your thigh, pushing aside material where the open slit was in your long dress. His skin was cooler than your body temperature due to his Frost Giant blood and during your first few years together, you would jump at the touch, but now you welcomed it as his long fingers delved to cup your unclothed cunt.

He always preferred you without underwear and soon you disposed of every pair that you’d owned so he could straight away feel just how slick you were for him, your juices already coating your pussy lips and inside of your sensitive thighs.

Loki audibly sucked in air, “Just as expected darling, dripping wet at the thought of me locked in here with you. Well that’s what you’ve got today dear wife, the door is locked and I am all yours”.

You stumbled slightly as he suddenly released you from his hold as he gave you the opportunity to decide what to do next, continue to leave, shout and argue, or give in to your lust.

You knew and he knew that you would always pick the same one, no matter the situation, the metaphorical choke hold that Loki had on you, the decision was already made.

Without turning to face him, you pushed the straps of your dress off of your shoulders, allowing the material to fall clean off of your body, pooling at your feet, leaving you completely bare for him. Loki sucked in an audible breath between gritted teeth as he looked down your naked spine, lower to the curve of your arse then to your legs, admiring your body and he couldn’t wait anymore.

With a hand on your arm, he turned your body towards him and you jumped into his arms he, was more than ready to catch you with steady hands on each of your thighs, massaging the muscles beneath as your mouth descended on his. All of your passion was put into the kiss, it hurting slightly with how hard you pressed against him, fingers gripping his shoulder-length black hair.

Loki groaned deeply from the back of his throat, tongue pressing against yours to assert dominance and you willingly succumbed whilst subtly trying to grind against his leather uniform, your breasts catching against a strap that twinged your nipples. Releasing his hair, you ran your hands over his shoulders, tugging on his clothing, pulling away from his mouth to make one demand, “Take off your clothes”.

“As my lady commands”, Loki whispered against your lips, lifting a single finger from your body to focus his magic as suddenly your skin was flush against his, lean muscles stretching over his trained body.

You took full advantage of the freedom of materials by tightening your legs that were wrapped around his waist, pushing your wet cunt directly only his abdomen, and rolling your hips to cause your clit to have some stimulation against his body. At the same time, your fingers delved back into his hair, gripping and pulling, forcing his head to snap back and revealing the column of his throat. The overwhelming emotion to mark him, to show that he was yours and as you kissed and sucked on his skin, his deep groan only fueled your plans to make him feel good, once again your submissive tendencies to show him that you believed in him, would always be by his side and you could show that through worshipping him.

You kicked your legs out, trying to pull out of his grasp and he gently placed your feet back to the floor and within a second you were on your knees, hands on the top of his thighs as you marvelled at the proud standing cock you were now eye level with. Your mouth watered, taking in the sight, admiring the veins that were beginning to bulge and the reddening tip that was beginning to leak precum.

You didn’t touch straight away, looking above his cock to Loki whose eyes were closely watching your every move. Smiling slyly, you asked in a sultry voice, “My King, I want to see the real you”.

Loki’s smile turned feral, finger reaching to stroke your cheek in a small sign of reassurance, “Do you think you can deal with it, pet?”

“I can handle anything you are willing to give me, let me look after you my King, let me show you how much I truly love the real you”.

Your husband's eyes changed colour first from their usual pale crystal blue to a blood-pumping red. Sitting back on your heels, you watched Loki shift and change, his legs lengthening, muscles thickening as he grew and grew until he was in his true Frost Giant form skin shifting to deep blue that was lined with lighter shades of raised patterns. You were hypnotised by his true self, the sheer power that he held and the confidence that radiated off of him.

His finger stroked across your cheek once more and your whole body shivered with the contact as his body was now ice-cold. Goosebumps appeared over the skin at the touch, it was such a significant drop in temperature when he was in his frost-giant body so you couldn’t touch him for long but whenever you were willing to, it made Loki incredibly hard.

Reaching up to the tallest height on your knees, both of your hands wrapped around Loki’s shaft that had grown to be proportionate with the rest of his body and could definitely never fit in any of your holes but your mouth would give it a very good go. His skin was just as soft as his Asgardian form and his shaft was still hard and throbbing with your touch but it freezing cold and caused your hands to stiffen in position, almost like when you placed your hands into the snow for too long.

“There’s my King”, you praised and reached to kiss the tip of his giant cock before licking to hole delicately swiping up the precum that was slightly saltier in this form.

“Fuck, my love”, Loki’s voice was deeper now as he watched your mouth open as wide as it could, the skin around your lips stretching slightly as you lay his heavy cock on your flat tongue. “Always feel so good”, he complimented, sighing lowly at the temperature difference as your hot tongue lapped up the underside of his tip over his most sensitive spot.

Even though there was no way you were able to deepthroat Loki with him at this size but you tried your best, wrapping your lips over his tip and sucking, eyes watering as he was already at the back of your throat. This was why your hands were working well, moving up and down his shaft in unison with the sucking of your mouth, tongue swirling over his skin as you tried to ignore just how cold you were.

You wanted to keep going for as long as you could, his words still repeating in your mind of his lack of faith in your belief in him, you needed to prove him wrong. Breathing through your nose, you sucked harder, audibly choking with your efforts to take more of him and the gasps Loki was producing were only spurring you on.

“Doing so well for me Darling, taking my cock more than ever before”, he praised. Your entire body was shivering now, overwhelmed with how cold you were from his body but you didn’t stop or slow down your movements.

Loki could see you were struggling and knew you would speak up, not that you could with his cock in your mouth so he began to shift back to his Asgardian body, body shrinking and warming back to what they were before. Usually, he would always run at a cool temperature but compared to his Frost Giant ice-cold body temp, he felt warm to the touch as you adjusted back to what he once was.

As Loki’s shaft returned back to its usual size, still girthy and long before now at a reasonable size it slipped further down your throat. It was one thing that you were blessed with not having a gag reflex, and your hands rested on the tops of his thighs, allowing them to warm up. You continued to look up at him as your throat bulged with how far he fucked into your mouth and you began to bob your head.

Loki’s thighs tensed under your hands as you move up and down his shaft, quickening in pace, feeling him throb in your throat as you gave a particularly harsh suck.

And then he was pulling out, not uttering a single word as he reached to pull you back into his arms, taking powerful steps towards the bed and then carefully laying you down and you noticed a warm invisible blanket covering your body as he used his magic to continue to heat you up.

Then it was his turn to kneel at the edge of the bed but he didn’t have as much restraint as you, needing to taste your arousal, desperate to hear your moans.

Loki’s wicked tongue pushed through your folds and lapped up everything you had to offer, licking your juices before pushing into your hole, feeling it already clenching around his muscle that tried to reach as far as it could, stroking your walls. His hands were harshly holding your thighs spread wide and inviting for him, feeling them tremble as he swiped across your bundle of nerves.

You reached down to pull on his hair but he quickly snapped on your wrist, holding it down to your hips as his mouth continued to explore your pussy.

“Keep still”, Loki demanded as you tried to roll your hips against his face, seeing if you would listen to his instructions but he knew that you wouldn’t already too lost in pleasure. His teeth grazed over your clit, sending a hot spark into your abdomen, shouting out louder.

“More!” you weren’t sure of exactly what but Loki could read you like a book, removing his mouth from your cunt only so that he could bite on your inner thigh, not hard at first but as you tried to shift your hips closer to him, he increased the pressure. This was how he spent the next few minutes, shifting between licking cunt and sucking along the inside of your sensitive thighs, biting occasionally, leaving indents with his teeth.

“Need…need to cum”, you gasped, still trying and failing to reach for him, your thighs sensitive and sore but the mix between pleasure and pain was perfect.

“You can cum”, Loki rewarded, and he spoke directly against your clit, causing the vibrations to rumble deep into your core and then he was back sucking on the throbbing nub, his chin pushing against your hole, stimulating it and bringing you over the edge.

With the way you were being restrained, all you could do was cry out in ecstasy, your breath getting caught in your throat with how good it felt as your cunt pulsed and Loki’s tongue kept lapping prolonging the pleasure until you collapsed back. Looking down at him with half-lidded eyes, you mewled pathetically, wanting to feel him, wanting more of him, the argument and feelings you were feeling earlier already a distant memory.

Loki listened to your desperate noises and smirked as he began crawling up your body, his cock occasionally bobbing to touch your stomach. Dipping his head down, he grazed along your collarbones with his teeth before caressing with his tongue, “What do you want? Use your words, Darling”.

“Want your cock inside of me, I want you to fill me up, please!” you begged, your hands finally not being held down anymore meant that you could claw at his back, feeling the muscles flex beneath.

Loki smiles hearing your pleas and sets into motion, easing his weight back onto his knees, giving him space to turn you over and onto your front, lifting your hips up so you were perking your ass and cunt into the air for him.

“Good girl”, he praised, seeing you shake your hips to will him to touch you. Easing between your legs, subtly spreading your knees further to give him more room, he smeared his cock up and down your folds, listening to your precious whimpers before pushing into your entrance.

Loki was slow with his initial penetration, giving you time to stretch around him but after that, he was held no restraint as he began fucking you hard. His hips slapped against yours, forcing you to bounce up and down on the bed, his balls grazing against your clit with each thrust and his hands gripped your hips painfully, holding your arse in place.

You wanted to reach for him, hoping to grip a part of his body in some way as you rested your weight on your neck and reached behind but Loki had other ideas as he grabbed both of your hands and held them against your lower back, now using this to help keep you in place.

He felt so good, dominating your body, knowing exactly what you liked, feeling his girthy cock pounding into your pussy, bashing against your cervix.

Loki could feel how much you were beginning to clench around him, and quickly released your arms, deciding that he needed to feel you closer. He pulled you up onto your knees, his arm supporting your body so you didn’t tip forward again, his chest pressed firmly against your spine.

Then he was back nuzzling into the junction between your neck and shoulder. “Mine”, he mumbled possessively against your neck and once more, he knew exactly what the ownership did to you. Your arms reached behind you to grip his hair, holding him against your neck, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“Loki….yes!” you gasped, already sensitive from the first orgasm so the second snuck up on you, especially with this new angle and being so close to him. Thankfully he was strong enough to support your weight as your thighs trembled with the convulsions in your cunt.

You hadn’t even caught your breath before Loki was grunting out what he wanted, “I’m close, need to look into your eyes as I’m filling you with my seed”.

Once more, you allow him to manhandle you, his grip releasing so you toppled onto the bed face first, and then were turned onto your back so you were now looking up at him. His lean body was over yours in a second, his cock slipping back in as his hand held your jaw so you couldn’t look away, not that you wanted to, especially with the way his eyes had softened.

“I’d never leave you, Darling”, he whispered, his lips barely grazing yours and on instinct you reached for him, a hand resting on his back and the other cupping his cheek.

“You’re my king, you’ll always be my king Loki, please know that”, it was his time to find his pleasure, in hearing the devotion in your voice. Loki’s eyebrows knitted together, mouth dropping open, your name pouring out as his thrusts lost their tempo and his cum began coating your cunt.

You hold him to his chest as he relaxes over you, breathing heavily, fingers idly stroking along your sides as you stroked back his hair. Neither of you wanted to move from the spot but eventually Loki rolled off so that he could look you over properly, hand cupping your cheek.

“Do you want me to unpack your bags, darling Wife?”

A small smile spread across your cheeks, “Only if you promise to take me with you when you plan to take over the throne next time”.

“I promise”, he replied, leaning in to kiss you softly.

#loki one shot #loki #loki layfeyson imagine #loki odison x reader #loki x reader #loki smut #marvel smut #marvel one shot #mine*

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goodmorgan · 7 months

Text

Perfect Strangers

Chapter 6: A Ride to Remember

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!Reader

Series Summary: When a stranger appears at your homestead to steal from you, you set out to help him instead. What follows is a reckless relationship with potentially dangerous outcomes.

Previous Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

Chapter Summary: Your relationship with Arthur deepens over the course of several weeks, when vows are made and lessons are taught.

Word Count: 13K

Tags: 18+. MDNI. NSFW. Smut, Porn With Plot, Mutual Pining, Angst, Fluff, Infidelity, Oral Sex (m! and f! receiving), Unprotected PinV Sex, Cowgirl, Semi-public Sex, First Times, Possessive Arthur Morgan

Taglist: @how-the-heck-would-i-know @pinkiec6-rubi

AO3 Link

A/N: I am soooooo sorry for taking this long to finish this chapter. But I've been through somethings in the past few months I hope you understand. To make it up for you, chapter is extra long with tons of smut! It's divided in several parts to ease reading.

You've never been on top before. None of your past lovers ever thought of letting you take charge, much less suggest you actually do it. So when Arthur asked if you could, it took you very much by surprise.

"Think you can handle it, missy? Hmm?" His eyes glimmer with a devilish spark as he invites you into his lap, his back leaned against the headboard of your bed. He squeezes the inside of your thigh in encouragement as you kneel by his flank.

"I think so." You hesitate, unsure if you'll be able to please him in a position you have no experience in. But then you look at his lustful eager eyes and you know you'll never be able to say no. And you have to admit, the idea of riding him has you pretty aroused yourself.

"Come on. I'll help ya."

His back temporarily leaves his rest as his hands reach the side of your waist, guiding you up as you climb over his legs, sitting atop his strong bulky thighs. Your core settles right in front of his fully hard cock, now slicked with his precum as it lies on his stomach, impatient for more after you've spent the last few minutes stroking it. You feel yourself twitching uncomfortably with titillation at the thought of taking it all in.

He removes one hand from you to catch the base of his member, tilting it up, ready for you to mount. "No need to rush, darling. Take your time." He means to put you at ease despite his obvious excitement as the mischief in his smile deepens, the tip of his tongue sneaking out, making you even more eager to start.

You settle your hands on top of his chest, pressing down for support as you raise your rear, angling your entrance above the tip of his cock as you kneel again. Arthur's hand tightens as you hover above him and soon enough you feel him prodding between your folds. You look at him to ask if you can go ahead.

"Easy does it, darling." His thumb caresses the side of your belly to relax you, but you feel his cock shift below you in ardent anticipation.

You move slightly downwards, enough to feel his member peek inside, stretching your opening to make your breath hitch. Arthur removes the hand from his cock, aiding you in your lowering motion with both hands on your hips, supporting your weight so you don't plunge too fast. Inch by inch you lower yourself as you take all of him inside you, your walls stretching in welcomed gratification. Both of you emit soft grunts of pleasure as Arthur's chest vibrates under your fidgety hands. You try to keep your eyes on each other as they flutter from the delightful feeling of carnal intimacy.

Your buttocks finally rest against his thighs when he finally fills you to the hilt. "Oh, fuck, missy." He grabs your ass greedily, as if to reward you for sheathing him inside you, his eyes darting to where your bodies meet. You peer down as you see your soft curls now tangled conspicuously with his. "Don't think I'll ever get used to you taking me like this."

You try to adjust to his large size as you coat him with the wetness he pried from you while fingering you earlier. You mirror his cheeky but sweet smile. "Maybe we just gotta practice a little more."

He chuckles as your hands move aimlessly all over his chest, warming him up before you move. His fingers lightly squeeze your behind to do the same. "I reckon we should. I doubt I'll ever get used to it though."

"Won't hurt to try." Your fingertips brush the area of his nipples. "I'm willing if you are."

"Yeah?" He raises a hand to your face to caress the side of your cheek with his thumb, biting down on his own lip. "Wanna show me how willing you are?"

He's ready to start when you are.

You rush your hands to the sides of his navel, moving your thumbs to pet the area below, twirling some of the black hairs you saw before. The teasing is enough to make the member inside you move and suddenly all you want to do is to countermove. "Seems I'm not the only one willing, am I?"

The first roll of your hips is barely visible but both of you feel it as his cock shifts gently against your walls, a satisfying taste of what's to come. He gets hungry for more as he lowers his hand to join the other, now blending his fingers with the curve of your hips. You take the chance to move them again, this time more noticeably as your folds almost touch the knuckles of your fingers, still skimming the sensitive skin of his groin.

It's the loud exhale he gives you that makes you start to lose your shyness, wanting to hear the sweet noises he makes for you over and over again, even if it's at the expense of your poise. You move your waist more forcefully, nudging yourself closer to his stomach, making you both puff out in delight. Each drag of your hips comes slow and gentle, but you can feel the gradual build of the fire in your core as you try to resist the urge to go too fast too soon.

"That's it, missy. You got it." His fingers press against your soft flesh as he assists your back-and-forth movements, the lechery of his eyes intensifying. "Keep going like that for me, angel."

His encouraging words only enflame your state of yearning, so you pick up the pace a little, moving your hands up to flatten them on his chest. As you move to the new angle, you fortuitously brush your clit against his pubic bone, the feeling so sublime you let out a whine of surprise and elation. You have no choice but to repeat it again, the result only more divine as you let your mouth hang.

"You like that, huh?" He grabs you more vigorously as you start to grind him wantonly.

You look into his eyes again, unsure if this is what he had planned when he asked you to be on top, wondering if he's enjoying it. "This alright?"

"Oh, it's perfect, missy." He lifts himself up to plant an affectionate kiss on your lips, his gaze even darker now. "Take what you need, darling."

His approval is all you require to move your hands even higher, clutching hungrily at his shoulders as your sensitive nub lies even flatter against his skin, the rubbing now so intense it keeps you from staying silent and cogent. You revel in your all-encompassing passion as you feel your walls fluttering against his own responsive arousal, filling you with the overwhelming sense that you are getting closer to the brink of endless wonder.

"Keep going, sweetheart. Almost there."

Arthur's sweet encouragement brings you back to a surprising state of awareness. You've only been intimate a few times, but they seem to have been enough for Arthur to learn when you're reaching your edge, aware of the effect his coaxing words have on you, prying a release from you every single time. Even when it's his choice of position, he still helps you rut yourself over him, making sure you chase your pleasure to completion first.

You must have slowed down your movements as he's compelled to spur you on. "Don't stop, missy. Not now. Keep going." His hands shove your weight forward to pick up the pace again. "Be my good girl and come around me." His wish is your command as you start to move unrestrained against him, your eyes closing shut as delectation devours you. "Come on. Need you to do this. Need to feel you, angel." His fingers bury themselves on your hips as he pushes you over the brink of deliverance. "Let me feel you feel good."

Your climax is heaven on earth as you arch back into the air, your head tilting back in victorious ecstasy as it hangs dreamily on cloud nine. In a thrilling change of pace, you soar up rather than sink your pleasure into the constriction of a worn-out mattress or the bumpy surface of a bale of hay. The only thing anchoring you is the firm build of Arthur between your thighs.

Your hands leave Arthur's shoulders to an aimless destination as you feel his own reach for your back, helping you ride your wave of pleasure, placing soft conciliatory kisses around your chest. Low soft grunts still leave your slack mouth when you slowly open your eyes, feeling your chest puff against an obstruction. When you look down, you see Arthur's face buried between your breasts, sucking gently at your damp skin. You take the opportunity to rest your head against his, feeling him hum with appreciation as he wraps you tightly in his arms.

It's a while before he comes up for air and even then he chooses to kiss your lips instead, his tongue still wet from nuzzling your bosom, hurried inside without ceremony. Rather than letting you come down from your high, it sustains itself with the extension of his enveloping kiss, making you tangle yourself against him in pure bliss.

"That was great, missy." His face slants to look up at yours as elated as you are, drunk on your own rapture as if it were his.

You take the chance to move slightly as you resettle on his lap, your core still sensitive as you brush against him. His member still pulses inside you and you're reminded of the pleasure you still have to bestow him. "It ain't over yet, cowboy." You push his shoulders to make him lean back against the bed, feeling very little resistance as he realizes it's his turn now, giving him a peck on his lips when he settles. "Show me what you had in mind."

His face turns somber, his eyes grow darker and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows your words, preparing to quell the overbearing lust running through his veins. His hands move to their previous place on your hips before you cover them with your own, encouraging him to move you however he desires. You feel the ridge of his knuckles shift as his fingers begin to knead your bruising flesh, his grip tightening as he finally starts to roll you against him. It's not long before your speed hastens and your pulse quickens again, needing to brace yourself on his shoulders, allowing close contact between your loose lips.

"Christ, missy. You're so good to me. You know that?" The meshing of your hips turns noisier by the second as they begin to slam into each other, his hands now directing you in up-and-down thrusts. "I oughta keep ya all to myself."

His member slides easily in and out of you with the blend of your fluids, his release approaching as he repeatedly hits your magical spot, both of you panting from renewed exhilaration.

Arthur keeps his eyes on you as if he's realizing something, you practically see a question form with the furrow of his brow. Suddenly he slows you down, limiting your thrusts without stopping them entirely. You know he's about to ask you something important if he's delaying his own release for it.

"You sleeping with anyone else?"

The question catches you by surprise, but you're quick to reply. "No."

It's the truth. You haven't slept with your husband in months and, when you did, there was nothing about it that was enjoyable or sensual. The last time was a brief tussle to get him off before he left for Annesburg, one where you didn't even pant and he didn't care if you did. You remember vividly feeling empty as he filled you up, the cracks on the ceiling as exciting as his thrusts. Just another passionless night with another heartless man in a list of too many few.

Now that you think about it, nothing can compare to what has happened between you and Arthur in the past few days. Not even close.

Your negative answer earns a purr of satisfaction from him, reaching for your chin with his fingers to pull you in. "Good. Keep it that way, yeah?"

You nod in agreement as you lean into his mouth, his tongue prodding yours to seal your vow of exclusivity as you surrender to the man who wants you all to himself, burying himself deeper within you.

His hands go back to your hips before they settle on your rear, grabbing hungrily as you both resume your lascivious pounding, the feeling intensified by the unceremonious binding of your union. Your breasts bounce wildly in front of him, earning his undisputed attention as he tries to land his lips on them. He stops when he begins to grunt disorderly, leaning his head against the headboard as he prepares to finish.

"Need you to rise, missy. I'm gonna--" He bites down on his lip, his teeth sinking hard as his hands promptly clasp your hips with all the will still left in him, with enough force to remove you from his cock, sitting you on top of his clenching thighs. He manages to stroke himself a few times before the white ropes erupt as he directs them to his stomach, his whole body trembling beneath yours. An earthquake of a deeply satisfied man.

He pants as he opens his eyes, his hands caressing your shoulders as he propels you forward to his kiss.

"So good to me.”

Your breasts dance against the sinful cadence of his heaving chest, his words reverberating close to your beating heart.

“And only me."

Your first ride on top is one to remember.

----

The weeks never passed so quickly before Arthur, much less this blissfully. You keep track of the days since you met for the first two or three weeks. But then the count becomes hazy, blurred by the consuming nature of your passion, the devouring nestling of your thighs, the countless collisions of your lips.

He visits you when he can escape from his other life, twice a week most times, three times if you're both lucky. He usually arrives with the sunset, his shirt still soaked from a hard day's work, his neck dusty from the ride over. You quench his thirst right away, first with your lips and then with a glass of water, watching as he heads to your bedroom to wash away his impurity in your vanity. Just like on the day when you first met.

You usually have dinner ready, repeating dishes he has previously enjoyed, always making sure you have extra potatoes. You try to have a cooled pie waiting for him, one he'll gobble up even after a big meal, regardless of its flavor. But apple remains his favorite, you can tell. He brings sacks full of groceries, bottles full of whiskey, and handfuls of game meat, enough food to feed the both of you and have leftovers. He stuffs himself until he can't take anymore, satisfying a bottomless hunger that only your cooking seems to appease. Just like on the day when you first met.

He makes sure to tap his belly when he finishes, the fabric of his shirt stretching as it swells. "I'm gaining weight from your fine cooking, missy."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't eat so much, Mr. Morgan."

"Can't help it when you cook so well."

"I know a way to burn it off." You know he loves your sly remarks as much as your cooking.

Once his tastebuds are satisfied, he usually grabs your arms, pulling you into his hot embrace or his fidgety lap, tugging from you fervent kisses to try to indulge his remaining need. Sometimes you're able to escape to finish the dishes, most times you aren't, his stomach not the only part of him that stretches after dark.

You always end the night holed up in your bedroom, the many phases of the moon depicted in your window as they change, your lustful connection never once waning. He stretches you out on the mattress, working you with his tongue or his hands, prying you open to receive him. He buries himself in your tightness, sometimes letting you stroke him beforehand, his size always a scintillating marvel when pressed against your fingers or your walls. He envelops you with his whole body or lets you straddle him with your thighs, hungry to feel your release, getting off on your seismic pleasure every time. He's careful to finish out of you, tainting both of your flesh with the white stains of a sinful tryst. You always end up in the iron grip of his loving arms, soothing each other before sleep tames you. Just like on the night when you first met.

He wakes up in the morning next to you, sometimes energetic enough to go again, sometimes satisfied enough not to attempt it, lavishing you with sweet tender kisses instead. He drinks your bitter coffee and eats your runny eggs, his gaze twinkling with the soft light of the morning sun. You brush his hair with your fingers before he covers it with his hat, the hanging ropes on the brim swaying as he kisses you goodbye, the sound of his parting boots heavy in your yard and in your chest. Behind he leaves his vow to come back. Just like on the day after you first met.

And just like a few days after you met, he comes back to keep his word, bringing with him the exciting promise of the sunset and the sensual touch of the night.

----

It is a particularly hot afternoon when Arthur arrives with his shirt covered in blood, the stench nauseating as the sun intensifies, the sight heart-wrenching as you think it's his own spill.

He can tell from your face you’re riddled with anguish. "I'm fine, darling, was out hunting is all." He unloads from his horse the deer he caught, already skinned and prepped for a fresh meal. "You in the mood for some stew?"

He places the carcass on your kitchen counter, chopping it up into sizable chunks as you prepare to salt most of it, leaving a few pieces to cook for dinner. He's thoughtful enough to remove his shirt right away and you draw him a bath to wash away the viscous blood still on his chest and shoulders.

When he's inside the tub, he's insistent that you scrub him. "I can't reach my back, missy. Think you can help me?" You try to hasten the washing as you still have to prepare dinner and wash his clothes, earning a reprimand from him. "Go easy on me, darling. I don't like it so rough."

You soften the swabs of your sponge, enough to hear him relax with deep breaths, his back sinking against the edge of the tub. "That feels real good, missy." You have no choice but to scrub his chest, which turns into a very bad idea once he starts pecking your lips, interrupting your movements as he gets bolder by the kiss. "God, I missed you, sweetheart." It’s been three days since you last saw each other. Your mouths entangle as you feel his wet hands dampen your back. "I miss these lips every single day. You know that?"

When he gets tired of you skidding away from him, ignoring his kisses so you can continue to wash him, you suddenly feel his hands reach the side of your hips, picking you up from the ground to land you with a wet crash on his lap, your skirt heavy with the weight of the water as you soak in his embrace. You try to contain your amusement as he attempts to kiss you, soon edging his tongue into the middle of your lips, satisfied only when you hum in unexpected pleasure.

He stares at you for a few seconds, tracing the shape of your mouth as if he's never seen it before, stretching your lips with a few soft rubs of his inquisitive thumb as if to test their malleability. "Prettiest lips I've ever seen."

"Well, they're all yours, partner." You think your remark is a rather lame flirtation but it turns into much more as his eyes suddenly darken and he inhales deeply before giving you the most selfish kiss, taking your words to heart as he takes what's rightfully his.

"Too pretty for an ugly old fool like me." You splash him with water to reprimand his off-putting self-deprecation, making him grab your hands so you can stay still to continue to ravage your defiant lips.

Somehow you convince him to let you go, promising a belated recompense if he lets you finish your chores. You try to leave the slippery tub with some difficulty, chuckling at his childish pettiness when he refuses to help you up. Eventually you manage to get on your feet, shedding your clothes before going to get some dry ones.

He’s sore enough to complain as you leave the room. “Wish you could leave your lips as easily as you leave me.”

Despite the temptation of returning to his arms, you try to get a move on with dinner, the pot by the fire soon filled with softening venison and herbs. You scrub his bloodied shirt against the washboard in your yard, your hands turning frightfully red in the attempt. It’s pristine blue when you finally hang it on the clothesline.

You turn around to head back inside when you see Arthur standing on the porch, only a loose small towel hanging from his waist.

“Dinner ready yet?”

“Hold your horses, would you? I’m adding the potatoes now.”

“Well, if I can’t have your lips then at least put some food in my mouth, woman!”

You give him a defying look as you pass him on the way in, trying to ignore his clinging. “Running your mouth not enough for you?”

He’s quick to grab you tightly from behind, his breath hot as it blows in your ear. “Not even close, missy.”

You try to break from his embrace unsuccessfully. “Why don’t you put on some clothes and then we can eat?”

“You better eat quick then, 'cause I ain’t waiting long.”

His impatience seems to ease when he finally starts to eat the stew, sitting in his chair with a new set of clothes, still dented from the shape of his saddle. Despite his threat, dinner is not rushed and you actually enjoy it, soothed by the comfort of the food and the pleasure of your company. He even lets you do the dishes first, all while you enjoy some of his unbelievable tales of his time out West.

When you go to get the glasses from the table, he stops you in your attempt and you know you've gone far enough. His grip is strong on your forearms but he verbalizes his wish rather than pull you down. "Sit."

His lap is inviting, spread enough to cushion the width of your rear as you climb on top of him face to face, the feeling familiar once his kisses start pouring, your hands grabbing his neck as you always do. What you don't know is this time won't be like any other.

It's when he pauses the work of his tongue that you know something is off, his eyes staring as he gains the courage to ask you an intimate request. "I want to feel your mouth on me, missy." His thumb returns to the place it was brushing in the tub. "Take me with those pretty lips of yours."

Your face burns hot as you hear him, first from the lewd nature of his wish, second from the realization that you've never done it before. The eagerness in his eyes is ignited and you feel a tingling at the prospect of pleasing him as he desires.

An act so debauched it seems akin to blasphemy. Then again, you've gone this far in your adultery, why not please your lover as he desires.

“Think you can do it? Hm?”

You nod in agreement, ready to cross the threshold of the gates of hell.

"Good. Get on your knees for me, would ya?"

Arthur helps you off his lap, his hands clasping your hips until you're standing, then reaching to undo his pants. You lower your knees to the ground, supporting your hands on his thighs to ease the landing. His cock is in his hand by the time you're down, stroking to grow his size.

His free hand reaches the side of your head, petting you lovingly as he prepares. "You comfortable?"

You suddenly worry that your lack of experience will be too telling, unsure how to bring him to completion this way. You decide that perhaps it's best to be honest, giving him the chance to teach you how. "Arthur." Your hands caress the hard bone on his knees as he looks at you with interest. "I've never-" Your tongue is suddenly sticky with fluster. "I've never done it before."

His face turns somber as his hands suddenly rush to your upper arms, tightly grabbing them to pull you up. “Jesus, darling. Should’ve told me.” His grip is strong but not enough to move you. “Get up, sweetheart. We’ll do something else.”

You rise from your knees to sit on his lap while you protest his decision. “No, I want to, Arthur. Really.” His hands pull you closer to his chest as you sit on him sideways. “You just have to tell me how.”

He looks into your eyes to see if there’s truth in your words, his brow knitting in concern. “You sure? I don’t want you to do something you don’t want.”

“Yeah, I want to.” You kiss him on the lips to sweeten the deal. “Teach me how to make you feel good.”

The tip of his thumb returns to your mouth, swiping it lazily as he ponders how to proceed, making sure you don’t regret your words. His hardness is now resting on your leg, which makes you even more eager to go through with it, kissing him again to see if he makes up his kind. "Tell me how you like it."

“Christ, missy.” He gives you one last peck before he squeezes the softness of your thigh in encouragement. “Let me get up, would you?”

You’re a little confused as to why he’s getting up, but you rise anyway, sitting back on his chair as he directs you down with his hands on your shoulders. He pets the side of you arms and face before he inches backward, soon shedding his clothes unceremoniously, his member stiff as it protrudes from his nakedness. You watch as he clears the table in front of you, piling the remaining tableware on the other side of it, leaving his glass of whiskey behind. He’s so tall he easily sits on the table without barely the lift of his heels, his feet then coming to rest on the side of the chair by your thighs, his erection on the table right in front of you.

His lips glisten with the remaining shot of whiskey he takes, placing the empty glass next to his leg. “If anything don’t feel right you tell me, yeah?” His hand caresses your jaw as he assesses your psyche. You feel yourself getting wetter in anticipation, your heart beating a little faster and your palms getting a little sweaty. You hope to serve him well. “I don’t want you swallowing, ok? Just spit on this here glass. I’ll tell you when it’s time.”

His free hand encircles around his member, pumping lazily to get him ready for you. You take the chance to spread your hands on his thighs, gently caressing him to help him relax, hopefully convince him you’re calm yourself, willing to carry on with his lesson.

“Just do what feels good, missy.” The grip on your jaw tightens as he slightly pushes you forward to him. “Nice and slow, darling. It ain’t a race.” You nod in understanding, his eyes blown with wanting as his thumb brushes your lips for the last time. “I'll let you know what to do. You ready?”

Your yes is enthusiastic and clear, your lips moving against his finger before he drops his hand, pulling himself closer to the edge of the table so you can access him more comfortably. His grip returns to the side of your head to lightly brush your cheek as the other hand guides one of your own to his shaft.

Your palm feels hot and damp at the same time with his slick slathered around the stiffness of his flesh, the one you’ve touched so many times in your erotic nights. His fingers instruct you to resume his ministrations as you feel the ridge of his veins between your heedful fingers, stroking so you get used to feeling him, preparing to take him with your mouth.

His hand guides your head upwards so your lips can meet, savoring you with his full intent, wetting your mouth with the drip of his tongue. When he eases his grip on you, you take the chance to dampen his chin and his jaw, soon reaching for his neck as you lean into the roughness of his beard, settling on the softness of his collarbone. You continue your passage downwards as he continues to brush your hair, his other hand now petting your sinking shoulder, leaving your hand free to fondle his cock in slow but pleasing strokes.

The kisses you leave on his chest are plentiful and dragged until you reach the hollow of his navel when you suddenly feel him grab your hair as his tip brushes against the skin of your throat, a hitched breath leaving his own. You push his member lower so you can begin to kiss the area of his groin, your hand stopping its movements when your chin gets in the way, continuing his pleasure by circling your thumb around his tip. The combination of movements is welcomed as he begins to breathe deeper, both of you quivering with anticipation as you begin to breach the gap between his cock and your mouth, pecking the skin around the base as you wait for instructions.

His thumb caresses your ear in tenderness as he finally speaks. "Use your lips first, darling."

It seems natural to continue to kiss him, your lips landing unhurriedly on his base, his warmth as delightful as the other parts of his skin. But it feels different for him as he takes a deep breath, his fingers curling close to your scalp, urging for more of your touch. You're quick to continue to peck him, leaving a trail of soft kisses along the top of his eager member, stopping before you reach his tantalizing crown.

Unsure how to proceed, you look up at him. You've never seen his eyes so dark, blown with need. The hand on your hair moves, his thumb brushing your lips as he parts them, reaching the inside of your cheek before he swipes the ridge of your salivated tongue, driving it out of your mouth.

"Use your tongue now, missy."

His wet thumb drags against your hair as his hand returns to the back of your head as you move down, both of you anxious to feel the brush of your tongue against his stiffness.

There's nothing gracious when you finally make contact, your taste buds coming alive with the bitterness of his flesh, the hot feeling against your tongue much like the one you felt on your fingers before, the sensation both familiar and new at the same time. You feel resistance against his hardness as you begin to move your tongue in unthoughtful movements, suddenly hungry to stretch it fully to slather as much of him as possible. It must be pleasurable enough for him as it earns his audible approval, his cock twitching underneath the roughness of your tongue, his hand moving with your head as you swirl aimlessly over the length of his shaft.

Your back and forth movements are amateurish, sloppy, crass even, but you hurry them along as you feel his breath hitch, a burning desire building in your own core, holding the base of his cock to hold it closer to your mouth, your other hand squeezing his thigh. You continue to lick him until you finally feel his fingers clasp your shoulder. "Slow down, darling. Easy."

You reduce your tonguing, aiming for a relaxed rhythm that's more attuned to his liking as you hear him grunt deeper and more frequently as his arousal builds. You notice he is particularly sensitive at his tip, his breath hitching further as you lick its underside repeatedly. Before you realize it, the circle of your lips begins to surround his tip as your tongue slides forward, soon taking him deeper into the tightness of your mouth, dragging his flesh along the hunger of your buds.

When a few inches of him are inside you, you feel his hand curl in your hair. "Take it out now, missy." It's the high-pitched breath he gives you when you retract that indicates what he likes, so when his tip touches yours again, you immediately set out to sink him inside you once more until you repeat the motion again.

His hands tighten around your skin and he huffs deeper as you suck around him, your head bobbing to bring him in and out of you, getting him closer and closer to a state of uncontrolled bliss. Somehow, he still has the presence of mind to grab your immobile hand around his base, urging you to pump him as you still work your mouth around him. "That's it, sweetheart." His words are muffled by the prelude of his peak. "Fuck. Don't stop."

As your mouth adapts to the feeling, you begin to ease into your movements, taking him deeper as your mouth waters, your chin soon dripping with excess. As your hand continues its work, you feel your own core swell, needing to slightly graze the seat beneath you to seek some comfort. When you feel none, you begin to rock in the chair, removing your hand from his thigh to your own as you begin to circle your bud. You are so aroused by Arthur's own thrill you're quick to pant yourself, your own moans now engulfing him too as they land on his hot flesh. But they're no match to his, your own pleasure so enticing to him he suddenly gets louder, beginning his ascent into uncontrollable madness.

"It's time."

His words are barely perceptible between his grunts, his muscles flexing and his hands now grabbing you, almost edging on pain as you steady yourself back on the might of his thigh. His release comes quick after that, his member twitching against your cheeks as you finally feel hot fluid reach your tongue, soon flooding the rest of your mouth in depraved novelty, tasting the curious elation of your gratified lover. His spill is bountiful and you're soon fighting back the urge to swallow it, remembering his wish that you spit it out instead.

Once he stops his effusion, it takes him a while to gather composure, his tip still inside you as his grunts overflow, growing quiet with each breath. His hands push you back until you reach the back of the chair, his cock leaving your mouth with a wet noise, dripping with his white release, a few drops landing heated on your thigh. Still overwhelmed with ecstasy, he reaches for the glass by his side before his thumb returns to your lips, either to wipe his seed off of them or to rub it on them more evenly. He then brings the glass right to them.

"Spit, darling."

You gather most of the slick around your mouth before you spit, his remnants still coating much of your insides as it mixes with your saliva. The milky fluid drips into his glass like molasses and he puts it away once he's satisfied with the outcome. His hand returns to your jaw, giving you a few pats before he unexpectedly leans in, taking your wet lips into his as he begins to taste himself on you.

"You did so well, missy." His eyes lock into yours, your hands clutching his hips as you hear his praise. "Such a good girl for me." Your lips smack with the sound of wetness. "Let me take care of you now."

You regret when he leaves your lips, moving backward as he reaches for your hands, removing them from him before his feet hit the ground. He stands as he looks down at you, giving you an extra peck before he places his hands at your waist, pressing your legs to wrap them around his torso, lifting you up without delay. He places you down on the side of the table where he sat, the wood still warm from his own thighs, his hands then moving under your skirt, pulling your bloomers all the way down.

"Take the rest off, darling. I wanna see you."

You're quickly naked for him, your bare bottom close to the edge of the table as he begins to dowse you with wet kisses, from your lips to your breasts to your navel, his movements hurried as you already groan from built-up arousal. When he returns to take one of your nipples into his mouth, you suddenly whine with vexation. "Arthur, please!"

He looks worriedly at you as you lead one of his hands to your core, showing him how wet you are for him, closing your legs around his hand when he begins to rub your clit. "It's ok, sweetheart. I got you."

Arthur gets on his knees in a swift determined motion, his hands stretching your legs open so he can place his head between them. He wraps his arms around your thighs, inching you closer to the edge of the table so he can have full entry to your needy core.

You’re already a slobbering mess when his tongue begins to lavish between your swollen lips, tightly bracing your thighs to hold you steady. You let out deep repressed grunts, your back falling restless against the table as he begins to suck you mercilessly, returning the favor of devouring your flesh, prying delectable pleasure from you. Eating you as famished as he ate his dinner right on the same side of the table.

You’re a sight to see if anyone were to walk into your yard. With the windows open, curtains swaying with the night breeze, the lamps illuminating the sinful romp unfolding inside. You’re splayed on the table, breast bouncing with each panted scream you let out, hands clutched around his hair, thighs and back undulating around him. His face is covered in your cunt, his arms flexed to hold you, his knees rocking against the floor where he kneels. The most sinful act unfolding at the place where you're supposed to say grace, not receive it.

The work of his tongue is overwhelming as you quickly reach the point of no return, further intensified when he teases a finger at your entrance. When it's finally curled inside, you begin to lose control, your unrestrained cries only stifled by the walls, your eyes closing shut in blinding gratification. Your hands leave his hair, flailing around to find some solace, finding none. Instead, you knock down Arthur's glass, his release spilling on the floor below as the crystal breaks. Soon after that, you break too.

Your climax is as ruthless as your journey there, prolonged by his unrelenting need to keep you writhing under his tongue, feeling your whole body quake for him. Your mutual moans of gratification coalesce into a salacious tune that is only broken when you beg for mercy. "Arthur!"

He looks straight into your eyes before he removes himself from between your legs, raising from his position to move to your side, leaning down to kiss you softly, caressing your arms as he attempts to bring you down from your delirium.

It takes a while for you to still, your legs still trembling as they arch on the table, your core still exposed to the breeze coming in, the coarse wood suddenly a nuisance against your bare skin. Arthur somehow manages to read your mind, sitting back on his chair before he pulls you down onto his lap again, resting your spent head on one of his shoulders, soothing your sweaty back as your breaths even again. You stay like that for a while and, when you move, you feel your skin sticky against his, like you're not meant to be pulled apart.

"I think we need another bath." You croon against his ear before you dare to press your lips against his beard.

"Mhm, I guess so." His fingers attempt to comb your damp hair. "You gonna leave those pretty lips of yours with me this time?"

It takes all your strength to pull your head back to see his glowing eyes again, his question still adrift in them. "Maybe I'll leave all of me instead. How about that?"

"Oh? You will?" His kiss tells you what you want to hear, his tongue soon prodding yours as he breathes you in. He breaks when he is satisfied, bringing his thumb once more to the cushion of your bottom lip. "Gonna have to clean the mess I made in you then. Leave you as pretty as I found you."

You nod, your smile widening as you remember the taste of him. But something behind him catches your eye as you look over his shoulder, seeing a wet splatter across your dining room floor. "You're gonna have to clean my floor too, mister."

It's the way he laughs, his joy reverberating on your chest, his hands moving gently along your curves, his hips jiggling you with contentment, his lips stretching into an undisturbed smile, his eyes looking into yours with fearless passion. It's the way he asked if you could please him as he wanted, the way he gave you the same thing in return. It's the way he holds you close after making you feel so euphoric. It's the way he makes you realize you're deeply in love.

----

It was too good to be true. The boundless joy Arthur's given you was bound to break, sooner or later. You'd just hoped it'd be later.

Fetching mail at the Valentine station was always dreadful, your heart always heavy as you climbed the wooden stairs, as you stared at the mustache of the station attendant, waiting for your loathed turn. You'd ache at the sight of another letter from your miserable husband, promising his eventual return, notifying you of a new deposit, defacing written words of inexistent love.

But this time the letter is different, not the usual sandy stationary he uses. Instead, it's a pristine white envelope and the handwritten address tells you immediately who it's from. Your Aunt Caroline always had the prettiest penmanship.

Your feet lead you unconsciously to the nearest bench, sitting down just as you pry open the envelope, smiling as you see your aunt's good wishes. I hope this letter finds you in unbridled joy, my dear. It really does.

Her pleasantries are plentiful as she details her new life in Saint Denis and how much it has aided your uncle's health, who seems much improved with the change of scenery. The heat was bothersome at first but now it seems to suit them quite well. Their social calendar has kept them busy as they have adapted to the city's high society, their connections growing with their substantial wealth. They seem to only want for one thing: the treasured company of their favorite and only niece.

She formally asks you to go visit them in Saint Denis, knowing well that your husband remains in Annesburg while you continue your simple solitary life in New Hanover. The invitation is endearing and for a moment you relish the idea of visiting your beloved aunt and uncle, the people who raised you after your parents passed. Spending a few weeks with them should be invigorating as they spoil you with their genuine affection, even if they might insist on parading you around in uncomfortable dresses at pretentious dinner parties and soirées. After months of solitude, it might be bearable, enjoyable even.

But then you remember Arthur. You suddenly feel the ghost of his hands on your hips, his lips on your neck, his thighs on your own, his breath hot on your ear as he tells you how much he wants you. The thrilling memories of the past few months come flooding in and suddenly your heart breaks at the thought of leaving him, the only lover who's ever treated you right. It'd be foolish to do him wrong.

But then you read more of the letter and your heart breaks even more.

I have written to your dear husband Stanley regarding your visit to Saint Denis. He has informed me that he would like to come see you once you are settled with us, requesting new correspondence once you have arrived. He will make his traveling arrangements then.

The trip is suddenly surrounded with gloom at the mention of seeing your husband, his presence the last thing you need back in your life. Your knee begins to shake involuntarily, the heel clicking and echoing around the unusually quiet train station. The notion of leaving Arthur to return to that scoundrel is revolting, like running from a safe haven to go chase unruly tornados.

But then you read your aunt's following paragraph and you realize you have no other choice.

I really do hope you get to join us here for a time. If not for my sake, at least for your uncle, who seems to yearn to hold his little girl in his arms again. He speaks so fondly of you every day. I'd be jealous if I didn't regard you with the same consideration. Perhaps you'd like to oblige the wishes of a sentimental old couple while you still can. I've never known you to be unkind. You were always the light in your woeful lives. I hope you get to be it once more.

And in that moment you realize your love for them is much bigger than your resentment for your husband. Or your passion for Arthur.

I look forward to seeing your sweet smile again, the one you happily got from your sweet mother. Wishing you were here already, Your Aunt Caroline

You take a deep breath as a sound grabs your attention. It's a little boy sitting down on the bench in front of you, his mother urging him to behave as they wait for the next train. Her caring hand is on his shoulder, petting him lovingly as he calms down, his feet hovering impatiently above the floor. He must be the age you were when your aunt and uncle went to pick you up and took you from the only life you knew, petting you lovingly on the shoulder too.

You rise from your seat, your mind made up as you walk to the station attendant so you can send a letter to begin preparing for your journey to Saint Denis.

You just hope Arthur Morgan forgives you.

----

It's a hot afternoon when you return home, your mare Amber back in the shade of your stable, your skirt brown on the brim from the Valentine mud as you tread up the stairs onto your porch. You're wondering how you might survive the Saint Denis heat when you see a bouquet of fresh flowers resting on your windowsill, begging to be primed on your prettiest vase. There is a note stuck on the closed door, a ripped page from a journal.

Sorry I missed you. A. M.

It saddens you to see Arthur was here and you weren't, unable to receive his eager kisses and his gentle embrace as you tell him how much you like the flowers. Your heart aches knowing that you may not have many chances to do it again.

Upon much reflection, your decision still seems sound as you think of the joy you'll give your uncle as he gets to hug you again, letting you win at cards when he thinks you can't tell. Your aunt will welcome you with her kind and trustful face as she begins her attempts to get you to eat as much as she can, her cakes as soft as the pillows where you'll sleep. It'll be heaven to be with them again.

But you can't shake Arthur from your mind. To pause your love affair seems crass, both to him and to you, especially now that you know each other so well. You can't even bear to think of ending it all together, a thought so cruel it robs most of your night's sleep. When you somehow sleep a wink, you wake up exhausted, dreading the moment you have to tell Arthur the news of you leaving him. Either for now or for good.

It's not surprising he comes to you in the afternoon, barely a day after he missed you, desperate to see you again. He doesn't bring you anything, just the sweet return of his arms and the hunger of his lips, his presence so comforting it makes you swoon with elation. Somehow your doubts dissolve when you feel him breathing you in.

His longing for you is clear as he leaves his saddle quicker than usual, kissing you hurriedly, not even bothering to lead his horse Titus to the stable, hitching him to your porch instead. When he returns to kiss you again, you see why. His pants are tented much more than usual for this time of day.

When your hips meet, his eagerness brushes directly on your waist but he has the need to tell you himself. "Sweetheart, really need you right now."

You toy with the seam of his pants, threatening to unbutton him right then and there. "Missed me, did you?"

"You know I did." He reaches for your hand, urging you to lower it, soon palming his growing arousal over the fabric of his jeans. He kisses you sloppily, shameless lust running through his veins. "Need you now, missy." His breath hitches as your fingers work your magic. "Needed you yesterday too. I can't wait any longer, sweetheart."

You suddenly stop your teasing, placing your hands on his shoulders so you can whisper close in his ear. "Inside."

You watch his confused expression for a moment before you grab him by the hand, walking him up the porch as you lead him inside to the living room, quickly beginning to undress as you sit on your davenport, your boots off as you throw them across the floor. You've never seen Arthur undress this fast, his cock is in his hand as you still work the buttons on your blouse, stroking himself as he watches you toss the remaining clothes.

His breath is already heavy when he settles on the davenport next to you, guiding you onto his lap before he kisses you deeply, once, twice, thrice. His hands run over your body to warm you up, tantalizing your skin with the sweet touch of passion before his fingers focus on your nipples, riling you up for what's to come. He then speeds up his usual slow approach as he begins to circle your clit, his member anxious as it falls on your thigh and you begin to stroke it.

Arthur begins to moan with built-up arousal and you see him getting more impatient by the minute, clutching one of your hips to try to contain himself, hoping he lasts long enough to sink inside you. One of his fingers enters you, trying to open you up for him so you can quench his intolerable ache. Two fingers are inside you when he finally admits defeat. "Missy, I- I need to-"

"Get inside me, Arthur."

He lets out a grunt before you feel his hands at your waist, clasping you tightly before he picks you up with all of his brute force, laying you down on the sofa underneath him, spreading your legs apart so he can place himself in the middle. His breath is loud and frantic as he brings a hand to his beading member, brushing it up and down your slit until he finally gives in and enters you, quicker than either of you had hoped, the feeling strained until you adjust to him, moaning into the thick air around you as he begins to move inside you.

His hands grab your thighs forcefully as he begins to slam himself against you, chasing a high that intensifies with each thrust. Even as he fills you to the hilt, he craves more, trying to deepen himself within you until he disappears completely. Unsatisfied, he places the back of your knees on his shoulders, bending you to his will as your thighs press against his chest, your knees on his shoulders, his face lowered against yours as he finally gets you in the angle he was craving.

Folded underneath his greed, succumbed to his complete will and desire, you feel every muscle in your body come alive with passion, blinding pleasure devouring your every sense in the most salacious position he's had you yet. Face to face in reciprocal vigorous lust, it's not long until both of you are consumed by ravenous sensations of ecstasy and release, unsure of how long you stare into each other's eyes before you both still in satisfaction, both breathing frantically as he rests his foreheads against yours. It takes a few moments before either of you ease on the tight grip you have on each other's flesh, your fingers only easing when your lips wrap in delightful gratitude.

When the time comes for unfurling yourselves, your knees crack from the stretch, your muscles aching with the strain of your stance. Arthur helps you onto his lap as he sits, rubbing pleasingly as he sees you struggle to extend your legs. After a few minutes, you're well enough to head inside to your vanity and begin to wash yourself, his seed sticky as it cools on your stomach. When you finish, you realize you still have to tell him you're leaving, a derangement after the proximity you just shared.

Your skin is still damp when you return to the living room in your nakedness, leaning against the wall as you watch Arthur collect his clothes from the floor, then sitting down once his pants are buttoned, all the while staring back at you.

"Seems I can't enough of you, can't I?" His forehead is still aglow with sweat, his locks darker from the exertion, contentment painting his face as he smiles. But your stomach turns violently.

Your face must show your worry as he suddenly frowns. "What's wrong?"

"We need to talk."

He instinctively holds out his hand for you to take, directing you to join him as he motions you to sit by his side.

And then you tell him.

----

Two weeks are all you have left until your trip to Saint Denis. The letter you get from your aunt a few days later confirms that a hired carriage will take you to the city a week from Friday, your departure from Valentine scheduled early in the morning so you may travel in the comfort and security of the daylight, the trip already paid by your eager aunt and uncle. You are to make use of the remaining time to put your affairs in order. But only one in particular matters.

Arthur took the news of your trip better than you expected. At least initially. He understood your need to take the trip from the moment you told him, encouraging you to do what is necessary to be a good niece. But you could see he was pained when you told him you weren't sure how long you'd be gone, that the trip might take you away from him for several weeks, months even. He looked at you with his disappointed opulent eyes, swallowing hard at the notion of losing you, even if temporarily. Yet his words were nothing if not supportive and unfazed, the hands on your hips claiming you could go.

But it is the way he lingers behind every day until your trip that tells you just how much he's dreading to see you leave. The first few days he leaves for his work in the morning, coming back at night to spend the evening with you. But the closer to the day, the more he delays his departure and hurries his arrival. One day he doesn't even leave at all, staying with you until the time comes to escort you to Valentine.

His presence is more than welcomed as your efforts to close down your small property pile on. He helps you take your chickens to a friendly farmer up north, then boarding up the coop so no wild animals nest there. He mends part of the fence that surrounds your homestead, ensuring it's tall enough so no one can break in while you're gone. He fixes the bent hinges on your front door, so it may close safely and hold until you return to open it. He helps you eat most of the perishable food you still have and helps you sell the rest of it so it doesn't spoil. He offers to help you pack, but he mostly just sits on the bed as he watches you pack your clothes, his sight watching your every move and every fold.

He mostly keeps his hands busy with work until he gets to put them on you, holding you so close to him you think you'll bruise and your aunt's maids will notice when they help you dress. He takes you everywhere he can. On your bed, on your sofa, on your stable, on your dining table again. On the floor of the kitchen when you were stubborn enough to attempt to clean up one night. On the back of your wagon after you sold your remaining supplies in Valentine.

"Someone will see us, Arthur." You whispered as you tried desperately not to come apart.

"Let them,” he dared as he sank inside you again, his own limit verging forward. "Let them see how pretty you are for me."

----

The last day is more emotional than you imagined. None of you speak much, the palpable tension hanging in the air like uninvited mist. You finish packing your bags, tidying up the rest of the house so you can find everything in its place when you return. Arthur is absent most of the day but you figure he must be close by as Titus remains at the stable. You're unsure of what he's doing but you realize how upset he must be if he doesn't even want to be with you. The soup you serve for lunch is as cold as the look he gives you, a man clearly dreading the change about to come.

Your chores are finished as the afternoon begins to unwind, the whole time dreadful as you both loathe the upcoming goodbye. Arthur shows up when you finish placing your bags on the porch, offering to hoist them up to the wagon now led by your mare Amber. You'll leave her to the care of the Valentine farrier until you return.

A bittersweet feeling invades you when you walk through your house one last time before you leave, making sure your windows are closed and the lamps are put out. Every room is flooded with memories of the irresistible time you've had with Arthur, one that is so regretfully about to end. You close the door on your now darkened house and you wonder how different everything will be when you open it again.

Despite his obvious sorrow, Arthur helps you climb the wagon, caressing your elbow once you're settled. "I'll come round here every once in a while. Make sure it remains closed."

His promise to guard your home is comforting and you smile at him, both as a thank you and as a hint to kiss you. But he shies away and mounts Titus instead, leading you out of your yard and into the road of a reality where your dazzling affair ceases to be.

The ride to Valentine is mostly silent, or at least one-sided as you attempt to tell him of your aunt and uncle's burgeoning life in Saint Denis. You barely get a response out of him, his short replies muffled by the raucous of the wheels of the wagon. You're almost at your destination when he utters his most verbose reply yet.

"Those rich folk in Saint Denis… Don't let them change you."

"I won't."

He nods his head swiftly at your affirmation, the leather of his hat shining with the last rays of the parting sun.

It's dusk when the muddy trails of Valentine slow down your wagon, making the trip to the hotel vexing. Arthur drops off your bags at your assigned room before you both head to the farrier, where you woefully say goodbye to Amber. You leave with the farrier's word that he'll take good care of her and you believe him as he begins to count the money you pay him in advance for his service.

Arthur invites you for dinner at the saloon before you retire to the hotel, paying for both your meals despite your insistence to do so. The ambiance is rather noisy as the pianist plays away and the town's drunkards begin to gather at the bar. Both of you eat quickly to leave before the unavoidable ruckus of the night begins.

When the door of your hotel room closes, both of your spirits are solemn and hushed, the tension of the day dragging inside, festering along with the dread of saying goodbye. Arthur stands by the door unlatching his belt before he sits on a chair, watching as you pretend to busy yourself with arranging the luggage, waiting for word on what to do next. You feel his eyes follow your every move, shifting in his seat as he tries to gather the courage to say something. But the impasse drags on as you keep avoiding him, afraid that his heartbroken gaze might break you. You fiddle with the dress you plan on wearing tomorrow, kneeling down on the floor as the tension between you grows to a suffocating standstill, neither of you prepared to end the affair between you.

After a moment that seems to last forever, you feel Arthur’s heavy feet on the floor as he moves towards you, his knees then sinking next to yours on the floor, his hands grabbing you by the hips, his chest warm against the curve of your back. Instead of speaking a single word, his lips find the crook of your neck, getting it wet with the start of his goodbye. You lean back into him to welcome his touch as you realize this is the start of what could be the last time he holds you like you belong together.

His lips busy themselves with whatever part of your skin they can find as you feel his hands roam among your peaks and your valleys, ruffling the cloth that keeps him from kissing the rest of your body. You clutch the side of his thighs as you open yourself to his advances, your head falling on his shoulder as his hands work their way south to pull up your skirt. A stifled groan leaves your throat when he glides through the inside of your legs, warming you up to the sin about to come.

Instead of leaving your thighs, his hands tighten around them, pulling you closer to him as he plants a hungry kiss at your collarbone, now grinding himself against your skirt, your nails clawing at his jeans. You’re lost in the euphoria of the moment as his arms flex and he suddenly picks you up from the ground, your legs going limp as you surrender to his brute tender force.

Before you know it he has you spreadeagled on the bed as he rises above you, his fingers gripping your waistband to remove your skirt in one swoop, returning again to remove your bloomers, the cold of the room hitting as your core and your wetness are exposed. Arthur looms, watching you for a moment before he gets on his knees again to begin kissing your inner thighs, staying on them for longer than you wish, hungry to be lavished but still dreading the departure. Impatient, you grab his hair with force to lead him to your center and he soon wraps his lips around your own, prying from you unadulterated bliss like always.

You are not sure if it’s because you are parting, or if it’s because he knows you so well by now, but your release comes faster than usual, leaving you a whimpering fool at the foot of the bed. Your feet steady on the edge of the mattress, your legs still shaking as you watch Arthur through them. He rises and undresses, his lips still shining with the taste of your cunt. He’s soon naked before you, working his arousal as your chest tries to settle, a futile effort as you realize you’ll soon be panting again.

The sweat still damps your brow when your eyes meet in tandem, the moment before either of you acts on the urge to surrender against each other. His throat contracts with the itch of desire as his hand still works, his feet bringing him closer to the bed. You unbutton the frivolity of your shirt, stripping yourself for him and exposing your breasts just as you expose your yearning for him. Your sore legs extend as you scooch higher into the bed, leaving them open for Arthur to ravish you.

Your eyes never part as he climbs the bed, his hands coming to caress your naked body as he pleases, starting on your knees, your thighs, your waist, your breasts. Like he’s trying to imprint in his mind what it feels like to touch you. His thumb travels up your throat with his usual softness, undercut only by the roughness of his calloused skin. He traces your jaw a few times before he dares to finally bend down to kiss you like it’s the first time. Or maybe the last.

Everything that happens next is both too slow and too fast at the same time as you begin to blend together. It’s both a bittersweet goodbye and an overjoyed gratitude for your time together. The perfect love affair that may never come again.

His kisses turn hungry but deep and slow, his body now overbearing you with the crushing weight of losing him, the only man that has ever made love to you rather than possess you. Your hands pull him closer to you, roaming his physique for a possible way to make him fused into you so you can never let him go. But there is still a part of you that aches for him to go deeper.

His full size is hot rubbing against your stomach, tantalizing you with the remaining part of him he still has to give you. You moan into him as his tongue delights with yours, your hips undulating against each other, rocking the flame of hot desire running through you both, itching to burn into ashes. Your hand slides down from his chiseled back, entering the tight space between you, soon finding a way to the hard pulse of his member. Your fingers resume his efforts to excite him, his mouth opening in surprise as it still wraps around yours, trying to swallow you as he tries to contain his elation. Your hand is steady, enough to get him to open his eyes so he can see yours, begging him to slide down so he can enter you once more.

His strong hands are quick to grab the thickness of your thighs, placing them beside his hips as he positions himself between them, his erection now pressed against the lips he has kissed countless times in the past months. He rubs himself against your folds, tantalizing you with the depth of ecstasy your whole soul desires, eager to feel him pulse inside you, a feeling to be recalled once you're back on your own. His hands settle close to your buttocks as he angles himself down, prodding your entrance with eagerness in his proud but roaming eyes.

The stretch is pondered as usual, perhaps even slower as somehow you feel it more achingly, your body coming alive with the tip of his carnality, soon devoured by breathlessness as he settles deep within you. His chest is high above yours before he moves to close the gap, his lungs soon reverberating atop your breasts, his hands now holding onto your shoulders to finish his burial. A somber pause follows as you look into each other's eyes, closer than two bodies could ever be, the silence only broken by the beating of aching hearts, now realizing the time has come to end their unwanted goodbye.

The sad realization is only broken by your mutual restlessness, the will to finish what you started. The first roll of Arthur's hip comes as natural as the tears forming in your eyes, which manage to escape after a few more of his thrusts. As he picks up the pace, somehow holding you in his arms as you hold him in yours, the sex seems miraculously paced, not too fast so you can’t savor it, not too slow that you can’t quiver with every move. The perfect farewell of an imperfect romance.

The bittersweet rhapsody is only broken when Arthur suddenly speaks.

"Come back to me, missy." Another crash of your hips. "Come back to me."

The weight of his words is not lost even as you start to lose control. In fact, they seem to unravel you faster as you realize his desire for you runs as deep as yours for him. His complete surrender to worship your body and his fixed gaze on you tells you he means it. He keeps his tempo steady to inch you closer and closer to another heavenly release, struggling hard to contain his own. You watch as his muscles flex in restraint, his eyes adamant to watch you unfold into expected bliss, his member repeatedly crashing into your sensitive spot. You try to savor the high as much as you can, wishing it could go on forever, but it becomes unbearable to hold it in. You have no choice but to surrender to Arthur’s parting wish to see you come for him.

You hope that one day you’ll be able to grant him his wish to come back.

----

Valentine grows incredibly quiet once the noise from the saloon quiets down, the night perfectly still for a few hours before the sun breaks, the perfect lullaby to fall asleep. But when the dawn comes, the racket on the street below your hotel window gradually wakes you up as you lie on your side of the bed. The other side is empty.

Arthur’s belongings are gone, his clothes no longer crumpled by the foot of the bed, his gun belt no longer hung by the door. But his aroma lingers behind and you inch closer to his pillow to bury your nose in it. The image of him reaching his peak flashes in your mind, his mouth agape, his eyes strained. You feel the faint sensation of his cock still buried inside you, your walls clenching at the memory. The sheets are stained with his sweat, which left behind a musky smell, now the only evidence of his passion for you during the night. He held you in his arms for a long while after your romp, but neither of you uttered a word, knowing full well there was no better way to say goodbye. You looked into his piercing longing eyes before you fell asleep to the lulling of your quiet valentine.

His absence this morning tells you how hard this is for him. He’d rather abandon a comfortable bed with your naked body than watch you leave, unsure if you’re ever returning to your side of the bed. You can’t tell how he slipped out so quietly, his footsteps are always as heavy as his build. Perhaps he tiptoed until he left the room, scared he’d beg you to stay if he saw you awake. Or maybe the sex left you so satiated your sleep was deeper than his escape, maybe clanging his boots loudly on the floor in the hopes that he’d wake you.

You want nothing else but to seclude yourself under the covers, shielded from the outer world with nothing but the memories of Arthur to keep you company. But by the way the sun begins to shine you can tell it must be a little before seven, so you must not have much time before you are to be ready. You stay still for a few more minutes, his pillow still underneath you, the duvet entangled on your legs as if they were his own. His words still ring in your ears. Come back to me.

Getting dressed is easy even if the dress is not, something more formal so you can enter Saint Denis in a more reputable fashion. Your aunt ought to love the paleness of its blue. It can’t take you more than half an hour to have everything ready, your luggage and your hat ready to put on by the door. You figure you still have a while before your carriage arrives. You give in to the craving of laying back down on the bed, thinking of him right where he had you. You don’t remember closing your eyes when a knock on the door rouses you and you’re still yawning as you go down the stairs, your last piece of luggage being carried by your driver. The smell of Valentine hits your nose as soon as you step outside and you become fully awake.

The carriage is small but very comfortable, the cushions soft but sturdy enough for a long voyage. Since you’ll be traveling alone, there’s room enough to stretch your legs and sleep sideways. But only after the stink of the town stays behind. For now, you think you’ll read the novel that has sat by your nightstand for the past months, untouched since the day a stranger stole an apple from your yard.

As soon as the carriage starts moving you know you’re not gonna be able to read, the words soon becoming blurry by the sway of the wagon. You look outside the window as the farrier comes into view and you hope to get a glimpse of your mare Amber but all you see are brown and black horses inside. She must be kept on the other side of the stable. The Valentine mud gets stickier as the road continues, but the buildings get scarcer and the smell quells once you cross the railroad track.

Nothing but thoughts sit with you inside the car. Thoughts of your aunt and uncle and their faces when they see you arrive, the sweet tender moments you’ll have in the upcoming weeks. Thoughts of a classier life in Saint Denis and how much you’ll miss the perfect solitude of your cabin, the magical stillness of the nature that surrounds it. Thoughts of your husband and the disgust that comes with them, a bitter ache that you might see him again, a painful reminder of a loveless marriage that you’d like to escape.

But more than any other thoughts, thoughts of Arthur. Thoughts of the months you have spent together crowd your every inch as you recall moments you’ve shared, embraces you’ve exchanged, kisses you’ve borrowed, passion you’ve stolen. A lover you’ve earned. He has made you come alive again and again and suddenly it hits you how vital he has been in your life. It’s no longer a question of how much you’ll miss him but how much it’ll hurt to be apart from him. It’s a question of how long your heart will ache while the muscles of your body still recall the respite of his healing touch. Will it be long enough for you to reach Saint Denis? Will you make it there and still feel him on you? Are you doomed to feel him forever? Has the memory of his lips turned into unending despair? The New Haven scenery stretches out before you but your eyes see a blank veil as the wheels of your mind turn in fallen sorrow, crippling thoughts consuming you, setting you on a ride to remember.

The ruminating of your mind is broken when the carriage suddenly slows, stalling when two men on horseback cross the intersecting road. You look out to the right side window and see the edge of the woods. A dead tree stands out, half broken as it lays snapped in half on the ground. The gentlemen emerge from view as they make their way past the carriage. The first is a sullen man, his face covered in deep scars that make him even more menacing. The second is Arthur Morgan.

It’s as if he materializes from your thoughts, as if he knew you needed to see him again. You try hard not to blink for fear he’ll scurry from you again. He slows his horse steadily, his eyes never leaving yours once he finds them, his chest immobile despite the breath he takes as he watches you pass, his leather gloves tightening the grip on the reins. In a few microseconds you feel your throat close and your hands going limp, your body and your soul dumbstruck by the mere sight of your lover.

You both remain still as you watch each other pass, frozen by the flames of passion still burning between you. A few seconds feel like hours as the carriage turns on the road, until suddenly his figure disappears from your window. You snap, swiftly turning your head to look out of the back window, your knees steady to hold you in position as you stare at him once more. His position has moved to watch you leave, his own horse wondering whether he should follow behind you.

But it’s his eyes. His unyielding radiant eyes strike you mad, his irises fixed on your own like he’s trying to tell you something.

Something only you can decipher. Something only you can fulfill.

Come back to me, missy.

Come back to me.

A/N: The next chapter should be out soon enough. It has been written in my head for months now. It is after all, the reason why I made this fic in the first place…

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan smut #goodmorgan #thank you all to those who have given me feedback hoping for more #it has helped me continue :)

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phoeebsbuffay · 1 year

Text

Imagine Anakin Skywalker proposes you.

Warnings: smut and fluff in a very alternative universe. This means no Vader here. Light reading.

Warnings 2: no minors.

Recommendations: “Just Like Heaven” by The Cure; “A Thousand Years” by Christina Perri.

***

When it all began…

It all starts with the day you find out you are having feelings for the great General Skywalker. To realize your attachment towards him crosses the field of a concern from one Jedi to another comes like a punch in your stomach.

In truth, the reason why such perception distresses you lies on your fear of feeling anything at all, particularly when he is nearby.

It takes every force of you to bury it. For your own sake—and because you know how besotted he is with that Senator whom you personally think unworthy of him, but oh well—you keep it to yourself.

So it’s Saturday and you have been released of your missions, though coming back from planet Y/C costed you good nights of sleep and a great deal of being scowled by Master Windu for your recklessness. Yet here you are, at the gardens, when you…feel him close.

Anakin has not been obnoxious to you, though. You ignore that his eyes have been following you more than often—-to the point where Ahsoka rolls her eyes everytime you are around and he is distracted—, that he’s been jealous of how you speak kindly to other men, or even so how annoying it is you cannot tell his fondness for you.

He is also a very observing man. That being said, he’s noticed your change of moods, he’s felt the nights you’ve been sleeping unwell, and what is more hurtful is that you don’t come for him to confide your fears like he does to you. Even though Anakin knows how you feel for him, he somewhat hopes you give the first steps.

So here he is. Leaning against the wall, his blue eyes are set on you, admiring the shades of y/c that color your hair, your y/c skin and the robes that reinforce your curves. Anakin holds back a sigh, and it is only when he comes closer that you joke:

“What’s up, Skywalker? What mischief are you up to today?”

“No big deal”, he lies down over the grass, not too far from where you are. Your eyes remain closed and he smirks at you. “Why are you assuming I am up to no good?”

You try to remain serious, but the moment he says that, your lips part in a smile.

“Because you are always annoying Obi-Wan. But since the corridors have been quiet, I’m assuming you are free today?”

Anakin rolls his eyes but he too smiles.

“Yes. For some odd reason everything is quiet. No trainings or missions. I came after you because for some reason that goes beyond my understanding you’ve been a little off these days.”

That observation makes you open your eyes and Anakin can tell that his remark is the reason why your heart starts beating faster. He tries to hold back a smile, even though presumption is behind his blue eyes.

So maybe there is hope.

“What are you talking about, Anakin? Don’t go assuming things.”

“Why, it’s true, though.” He shrugs his shoulders. “The other day when I asked you a favor regarding Senator Amidala, you told me you could not do it because you’ve been already assigned to another mission. And yet I found you playing cards with Fives. I mean… Really?”

For most things you have a sharp wit, but when it comes to Anakin or men in general, you are slow. You also take time to comprehend the meaning of their actions, once usually these can be ambiguous. Hence why you don’t understand why he’s acting so jealous.

“What? How one thing is related to the other? I did have another mission to which I was assigned, and, unlike you, I wasn’t flirting with Fives.”

“I wasn’t flirting with Fives either!”

You chew your bottom lip as he rolls in the grass laughing. And to worsen your case, you say:

“No, but you were flirting with Senator Amidala!”

Now rolling to your side, he is on his elbows staring at you with those bloody blue eyes and a damn smile that makes you melt inside.

“Was I?”

A faint shade of pink paints your cheeks, and however you try to look away from his intent stare, Maker knows you cannot.

“You know damn well that you were”, you narrow your eyes at him. “Why do you think this is so funny to you, Anakin Skywalker? If you want to break the rules and get yourself expelled, it is not my problem. As long as you don’t come lamenting after my ears how the Council never… Oh, please! Stop laughing!”

It is as if you are a teenager again, always being made fun of by him. Anakin had this terrible habit of teasing you until you got seriously irritated. Seeing he’s to the point where he’s about to succeed, Anakin softens and pulls you down back to the grass as you are about to stand and leave him there.

“What do you think you are doing?”, you ask in between giggles.

It’s when your gazes cross again.

“I was never smitten with Senator Amidala, silly head.” His smile spreads as your blush deepens. “It has always been about you. You, Y/N Y/LN. You alone.”

“Oh.”

He is now dangerously close to you. Part of him is over your body, transmitting you sensations before unknown. But you choose to ignore how his arms in each side of you ignore a spark in you.

“Oh indeed”, Anakin smiles warmly. “How could you think it was about her? She is married to Senator Clovis.”

“Is she?” You don’t dare to raise your eyes for fear they might give in too much.

But that’s what he wants. So he raises your chin and slowly moves his lips against yours.

“Yes. I fell in love with you, princess.”

Any resistance is inutile, so as your hands rest in his sides, dragging him over you, you smile as you correspond the kiss.

“As I did with you, Ani.”

***

‘A secret between us’

It’s been three months since Anakin last saw you. It drives him crazy how each has gone to a different mission. Because the relationship has been kept far from the Council’s knowledge, he couldn’t even ask for you.

And before he finds courage to ask Obi-Wan about your whereabouts, he is sent to planet Y/C to investigate the death of Master Dias. It takes further three months before you and him met again.

“You could have sent me a message, you know”, you tell him right as he comes for you. It’s late night and he is in your quarters. Both of you are exhausted, having arrived mere hours earlier. “I tried to send you, but I couldn’t.”

You barely finish with brushing your hair and you feel Anakin’s arms snaking behind you. You smile before turning around to hold him closer if possible. Your hands cup his cheeks, caressing each as you dive in those blue eyes.

“I know. God damn it, I was bloody preoccupied with you, my darling. Next time I will insist to go with you.”

“Yet Anakin, I detest to be the one to remind you that our relationship is a secret that must stay only between us”, you sigh. “They cannot raise any suspicious…”

“They will not. Leave this to me, all right?”

You rest your head against his chest, embraced by his arms before pulled to kiss his lips. Anakin’s fingers are tangled in your hair, his chin rested over your chin. You two stay like this for a while before going to bed.

“How did the mission go?”, you ask, cuddled against him, voice sleepy.

Anakin smiles at your efforts in struggling against exhaustion to hear about his mission.

“Sleep, angel. We will discuss this tomorrow.” Saying so, he presses a kiss over your forehead and you both fall asleep.

As the Jedis are closer to get to Count Dooku, eventually you and Anakin are assigned to a mission together. That is when you two cross the path of General Grievous.

“I will not let you expose yourself in danger, lass.” He tells you, rather baffled by the suggestions you are bringing to defeat the enemy.

“Oh, please Anakin. I’ve been doing that long way before we…”

“No, Y/N. I am not letting you…”

You smile now fades when seeing how serious. You narrow your eyes in turn.

“Oh yes, I am, Skyguy. I never asked you to be concerned about me in first place.”

And that is precisely the most inappropriate moment for you two get in your first argument.

***

Moonlight.

You miss him ardently. This time it burns your skin, it tortures your soul. You cannot simply accept to be by his side and sleep easily; it is not enough to wait every Friday and pray for the Jedi to be asleep as you tiptoe to his quarters and talk to him until sun rises—and you pay for it by drinking lots of coffee the day after.

He too hates how far away you are from him. He detests how paradise is unreachable for him every single time you are sent away, for it makes him feel an outcast. Anakin is anguished for not breathing your scent, not tasting your tongue pairing in so perfect a rhythm against his, not dwelling in your y/c eyes. His heart aches, his soul breaks when he doesn’t hear from you for weeks.

But today, the Jedi senses a strange urge from you before even landing to Coruscant. At first it distresses him—until he comes to discover the cause of it, he is genuinely concerned about you.

However, the moment he escapes to your quarters, every anxiety dies. Engulfed in your arms, Anakin relaxes and tightens his grip around you.

“Fuck, how I’ve missed you, princess”, he mumbles, kissing your cheek and your neck, there staying, breathing the smell of roses.

“Ani”, you sigh in deep content. “What took you so long?”

“I have great news to share”, he tells you, parting the embrace so he can look at you.

Your hair is lose and you are dressing a blue nightgown with white robes partly open. Anakin cannot help but notice the swell of your breasts, seeing your nipples through the silk. He swallows hard, forcing himself to concentrate as you wait with exciting eyes.

He takes your hand and locks with his before taking a seat at the edge of your bed.

“What is it?”, you ask him, sounding louder than you’d like.

“Good news await us. Count Dooku is defeated and so the plan to knock down the Republic has been discovered.”

You raise a hand over your mouth, shock stamped in your features.

“Holy Maker, Ani! So does this mean we found out who the Sith Lord is? And what his intentions are?”

Anakin flashes a smirk, but by this time his mind has already left the main point behind.

“Can we please discuss this later? I miss my girlfriend.”

You blush lightly.

“Why, please. I’ve missed you too, Anakin.” As you dwell in those blue eyes, you feel your heart lighter and every disturbance that sparks in your body disappears. “Maker knows how much.”

Before he reads well into you, you put your arms around his neck and lean to kiss his lips. What starts as a make up session begins to evolve to something more.

“I don’t think you know how much you mean to me”, you tell him, letting your hands play with his curls before slipping to his cheek.

As his hands move to your shoulders, promptly removing your robes before rubbing your arms delicately as if you are a fragile thing, Anakin bites your bottom lip and says:

“I cannot live apart of you, Y/N. You are mine.”

You shiver at how possessive his words sound to your ears, it turns you on.

“Please, show me how”, you beg him, sensing his smirk against yours.

“So this is what has been troubling my princess?”, he asks you, now parting the kiss to look into your eyes only to find out how needy you are by getting lost in them. Holding your chin, Anakin senses the power you delegate to him. “Tell me, love, you’ve been burning, haven’t you?”

Anakin moves further to your bed. He opens lightly the curtains of a widow so the moonlight helps illuminate your quarters in an old fashion way.

All the whilst, he makes you sit in his lap, your legs wrapped around his waist before he slowly rests his hands over your thighs, moving them to remove your nightgown and tossing aside.

“Fuck”, he curses lightly. Instead of feeling shy, you feel yourself wet under his intent gaze. “You are gorgeous, angel. So beautiful. So ethereal.”

Beneath his words, a spark that ignites a fire. You pursuit his lips, famine for his touch, starving for his affection. Anakin smiles when feeling all of the sentiments you’ve been trying to placate…rather unsuccessfully.

He then flips you carefully, going on top of you just after your desperate hands toss away his clothing.

“Looks like you got me on fire”, you whisper, parting your lips as you moan when he starts to get intimate with you.

“We are burning together tonight, my love. I promise you”, he kisses your neck, slipping his tongue in one trace to your full chests. Anakin devours each nipple, holding you against him in such a dominate manner that you can only plead for more.

And he slowly complies to your demands, though he tortures you with his fingers…and then with his mouth, eyeing you as he eats you out. Yet, when you are about to come undone, he goes back to you, shushing your protests with a fiery, passionate kiss.

“Love me”, you beg him.

Because he knows of your needs, tonight is your night—as much as you try to please him too, he wants to make this night a very special one.

“I love you”, he whispers as he locks hands with you.

When your eyes meet and your bodies lock, your souls speak. It’s all perfectly synced.

***

The proposal.

By waking up by your side is the moment Anakin realizes he is no longer content with this secretive relationship of yours. He wants more. It’s when he decides to make you the future Mrs Skywalker. One question remains, though: how?

As you open your eyes and find yourself cuddled against him, smelling his scent, a mix of sweat and his typical perfume, you know there is no better place to he than in his arms. Ignoring his thoughts, you are somewhat inspired when you lean into him and say:

“I would run away with you. Anywhere you want to go, I will be with you.”

When looking into your eyes, this inspiration finds home in his heart as well. But Anakin needs to hold back his impulsivity or he’d might be accused of lacking sensitivity.

“Maker knows I cannot love any other creature that is not you, Y/N.”

There is so much to be said, but for some reason there is no need to let unspoken words reach each other’s tongues. Not only because in one gaze they could see reflected in their eyes the love one feels for the other, but also the abrupt knock on the door that scares you both, a reminder that there is life beyond bed—and the kind that requests your relationship to remain a secret.

It is tiresome to hid. To pretend that neither is too intimate with the other, to ignore the sparks of jealousy that rises in both hearts and minds, to act cooly before certain situations.

As when for example the day you confronted Darth Maul, defeating him in the process and earning some battle scars that almost freaked Anakin out.

“Babe, I told you not to chase that vile being”, he scolded you then. “You could have contacted me.”

“What for? We’ve been there before, Anakin, and I told you a million times that I can do things by myself, thank you very much.”

But these arguments, endless and repetitive as they were, usually ended in bed so both of you knew how to amend it pretty well.

However, you stood in his shoes when Anakin faced the Sith Lord in person. Although this was an occasion that feared you more than you’d care to admit, you were baffled—as well as many others—that he proved to be the chosen one by defeating Chancellor Palpatine once and for all.

“And you call me stubborn”, you told him, shaking your head in disapproval.

Anakin chuckled as you glared at him. Kisses and sweet words were enough to knock your defenses down, although you were not entirely the one to blame for worrying too much.

So now here you are. Amidst celebrations, Anakin doesn’t appreciate the attention earned. For someone so proud, this only seems to separate him from you. Hence why he sees an opportunity—one he has been planning for a while—to elope with you.

You are in the middle of a conversation to Ahsoka—and today you are very elegant, dressing your best dress and wearing a good make up, wanting to feel beautiful for him—when Anakin shows up.

“Excuse me, ladies. General Y/LN, may I have a word with you?”

Although you try to disguise the amusement in your eyes, every effort you and Anakin pay in omitting the true nature of your relationship goes to nothing because Ahsoka, rolling her eyes and resting a hand in her waist, says:

“Really now? Are we all going to play pretend I’m dumb? Skyguy and Y/Nickname, I know that you are…”

“Shhhhh”, you and Anakin say at the same time, with you putting your hands over her mouth.

“Be discreet, Ahsoka”, you whisper, letting her go after ensuring she is not acting otherwise. “Please.”

“I should have not underestimated your observation”, Anakin sighs. “An adolescent like yourself should be paying attention to interests concerning your age, though.”

“Oh please, Skyguy. This is a huge insult to my intelligence. You are barely trying to be discreet. Anyone can tell you and Y/N are together, though judging by others faces in this room, they either pretend not to see what’s crystal clear or they are just blind.”

Anakin and you exchange disconcerted glances, but you try to intervene by appeasing the situation.

“Can we trust in you to keep this low for a while? Come now, Soka. You know how much you mean to us.”

It works. Ahsoka looks at you with other eyes: in fact, she’d always perceived you as a maternal figure, a role you’ve taken to yourself in the e years she’d been under Anakin’s wig knowing her difficulties with other aspects within the Order she struggled with.

“Very well”, she feels proud of herself for the responsibility delegate to her. “You will not be disappointed.”

Anakin rolls his eyes, but you smile at her and press her forehead a kiss.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

As you go after Anakin, you say:

“What’s with this rush to leave? I thought you’d enjoy to be in the center of attention.”

Once you are in the ship, Anakin flashes you a smirk and says:

“Oh, dear. I couldn’t care less about these boring ceremonies. Now, I think we should enjoy ourselves away from these pompous people. I have a better place to take you to, where I think you’ll love.” He smiles at you before turning the ship on: “Love, this is where the fun begins.”

And that is how he takes you to planet Y/C. Once getting there, you are perplexed by the landscape that draws right under your gaze: a mix of colors that brightens the horizon, brown hills peppered with pink trees—one of the kind you’ve never seen before—amidst small lakes that reinforce a delicately aesthetic.

“It’s so peaceful here, isn’t it?”, Anakin tells you, eyes glued at the expressions your face transmits.

“It is, Ani. Where are you taking me? How’d you know this place?”, you ask him.

He leads you now to the beach. There, Anakin watches with a smile on his lips how you are charmed by the wild nature. That should be the nest of your love, that only grows each day, so he decides.

“I came here only once in that mission concerning Ventress. I always wanted an opportunity to come back, and looks like I have one.”

He pauses, waiting for you to absorb what he is telling you. You take a while to understand, your eyes focused in the purple that paints that ocean, making the scenario so unique and colorful. Never before you felt such a peace.

But when your fingers are locked with his, you slowly comprehend the reason of his subtle getaway from a prestigious ceremony that was praising his great deeds.

“Anakin… What are you saying?”

“For a very long time I’ve been silenced, but I will not tolerate this anymore”, he smiles at you, delighting at your slow discovery. “Allow me to tell you how much I love you, how I cannot spend any more time without you by my side. You are such a precious gift from heavens that I fear to waste away if I don’t…”

He chokes a little with words, thrilled as much as you are.

“Anakin… Ani! Oh, Ani!”, before you can help yourself, your eyes are blurried by tears and you start weeping.

On his knees, he takes a velvet box and opens it right before you.

“I hope these are tears of joy…”, Anakin starts nervously.

You giggle.

“Of course they are!”

“Good”, he clears his throat. “Y/N Y/LN, will you give me the honor of becoming Mrs Skywalker for the rest of your life…?”

He barely finishes the proposal when you throw your arms around his neck.

“Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!”

Anakin beams and so do you. Just after you share a kiss and he places a ring on your finger, he says:

“I’m very happy for choosing the perfect scenario, but can we go elsewhere? I hate sand.”

You laugh and so does he. Locking your arms with his, you say:

“Anywhere with you, Anakin, is going home to me.”

And that is the happiest day of your lives…

***

Epilogue.

…that is until the day you two get married, of course.

It happens in a private ceremony with only C3-P0 and R2-D2 as witnesses. Your hair drops loose in your waist and you wear a traditional white gown you’ve purchased of the planet you came from.

A priest awaits and in front of him, is Anakin. You admire him with eyes already puddled by tears. Your heart skips a bear when setting your gaze upon the man you love with your entire being. He is so handsome with those robes, curly hair dropping over his shoulder—certainly longer than last time—reinforcing an angelical physique that makes you swoon.

“Y/N”, he calls your name as he stands his hand to take yours. As you do so, Anakin, whose eyes are all over you, smiles excitedly. “We are starting a new life now.”

And by saying so, a hand rests upon your stomach.

“How’d you know…?”, you laugh quietly, surprised he noticed before you.

“I know my wife”, Anakin whispers into your ear, pleased to make you blush.

The priest clears his throat, it’s time. As he finally begins, you and him cannot look away from each other. Vows are professed and you are now Mrs Skywalker.

A brighter future awaits for you both, sealed in the form of a kiss…

#star wars #star wars imagine #imagine star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #Hayden Christensen

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multifandom-worlds · 15 days

Note

Fluff prompt 17, Loki, she/her, Eleni

When The Moon Hits Your Eye...

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 957

Warning: NA

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy, beautiful! Thanks for the request! I really enjoyed this!

Tags: @simplyholl @holdmytesseract @ladyofthestayingpower @lokiprompts @dryyoursaltyoceantears @buttercupcookies-blog

“Loki…” Eleni whines, being dragged out of her nice, comfy bed at some ungodly hour by the God of Mischief himself. A deep chuckle bubbles in his chest, listening to her protests as he tosses the blankets aside. He had a plan, not that she knew it, of course.

Taking her hand, Loki pulls her to a standing position, hooking an arm around her waist. “Come on, darling. I have a plan for us that I know you’re not going to want to miss.”

“Does it involve waking up now? Can’t it wait until the morning?” Eleni protests, resting her forehead against Loki’s chest. She wants nothing more than to go back to bed.

Loki chuckled again before grabbing her the change of comfy clothes he had already laid out for her. “Yes, my darling. Now get changed and meet me downstairs in 5 minutes. If you’re not downstairs in 5 minutes, I’m going to come drag you down there myself.” He kisses her forehand before handing her her change of clothes and exiting the room.

Reluctantly, Eleni gets dressed before pulling her hair back into a messy bun and exiting the room. Loki was standing there, leaning against the wall. He smiles, seeing her walk out of their bedroom. “Looking as beautiful as ever, my beloved. Now let’s go.” He smiles, taking her hand and leading her to the elevator.

She followed him, stepping into the elevator with him and leaning against the wall. “Where are we going, Loki? Nothing is open at this hour.” She looked at him, trying to get a read on his plans, but he gave nothing away.

“All in due time, my sweetest one. It will all make sense soon,” Loki smiles, stepping towards her and resting his hands on her waist. “I assure you, I have a reason for getting you out of bed at this time.” He kisses her forehead gently, lingering for a few seconds before pulling away just as the elevator doors open on the main floor. He takes her hand before walking towards the compound doors.

The air was crisp but not necessarily cold as the couple stepped outside, causing Eleni to shudder. Moments later, a warm blanket draped over her shoulder. “Here you go, Darling. Don’t worry; I made sure you were prepared.” Loki smiles as they get to his car. Like the gentleman he can be, he opens the door for her. Eleni steps in before he closes the door and walks around the front of the car before getting in himself.

Starting the car, Loki drives them out of where his surprise awaits. Up on a grassy hill in the New York countryside, a blanket and hot drinks await them, the stars twinkling in the midnight black sky.

Twenty minutes later, the pair arrive, her face lighting up slightly as she sees what his plan ultimately is. “Star-gazing? You remembered I wanted to go star-gazing? Loki... how... why?” she asks as they pull up to the hill.

“I remember nearly everything you tell me, darling. Now come. The stars won’t gaze upon themselves.” He chuckles as he opens his door after putting the car in park. He walks around, opening the door for her before offering her his hand and helping her out of the vehicle. The two of them walk up the hill, hand in hand.

Pillows, blankets, snacks, and drinks lay in wait for them. Eleni lies down, her head resting on a pillow, gazing upwards, the faintest smile on her lips, mesmerized by the ethereal glow painted above her. Loki, however, instead of looking at the sky, his gaze was on her, his beautiful, perfect partner.

“How did I get so lucky?” He whispers to himself, pulling his eyes away from her before joining her on the ground, scooting beside her so their hands are just slightly touching. He looks up at the sky, too, listening to her recount all the constellations and facts about every constellation she could find.

The two drive through the streets of New York in comfortable silence again, watching the city come to life around them. They get back to the still-dark compound, everyone still sleeping peacefully in their beds, unaware of anything around them.

The pair lay in comfortable silence until the sun kissed the horizon in those early morning hours, chasing away the stars and setting the sky ablaze. “We should get going, my darling,” Loki said, carefully beginning to clean up the dishes, placing them back in the bag that he had brought them in.

“Yeah..” Eleni yawns as she rises from the ground. She picks up the blankets and folds them, placing them in a neat pile on the dewy grass and gathering up all the pillows that had been strewn about. She picks up the stack of blankets before sleepily walking down the hill back to the car. He unlocks it and throws everything in the back seat before opening the door so Eleni can take her things and put them in the backseat as well. Once she was inside, he closed the door, walked around to the driver's side and got in.

“Thank you, Loki. Star-gazing was a good idea,” Eleni says as they get inside. “I really enjoyed that; thank you for listening to me ramble random facts.”

“I will always listen to your facts, darling. I enjoy nothing more than to hear you talk about what you love. I love having such a smart, passionate girlfriend.” He pulls her close, wrapping his arms around her lower back. “I love you, and I will absolutely take you stargazing again; just say the word, and we’re gone.”

Eleni looks up at him, a tired smile on her lips, “Tomorrow?”

#loki laufeyson #loki of asgard #mcu loki #loki god of mischief #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki marvel #loki mcu #loki fluff

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fitzs-trained-monkey · 1 year

Text

Err on The Side of Awesome

(Not my gif)

Kol Mikaelson's Daughter Headcanons

Requested by: @katherinereilly19

Here lies my Masterlist

You were adopted by Kol and Davina Claire-Mikaelson at age six from a Catholic orphanage run by nuns who all thought you were some sort of demon child.

See, like your adopted father, you were a witch and had come into your power rather early. Davina had been sensing some odd power flares in the area and, when she and Kol had gone to investigate, there you were - a sweet, little bundle of mischief with more power than you knew what to do with.

To say that you had Kol wrapped around your little finger from the first second he saw you would be no exaggeration. Seriously.

Kol had never thought himself fit to be a husband, let alone a parent. It still baffles him some days that Davina agreed to marry him - most days in fact - it just seemed too good to be true. They traveled the world for a while and then… Well, Davina, she…

She said she wanted kids.

She didn't say that she used to want kids or that she would have wanted them had she married someone else. Davina said she wanted to be a mom. With him. She said she wanted to have a kid with him and she wanted Kol to be that kid's dad.

At first, he almost thought it was a joke. Who in their right mind would trust him with a child? But no, Davina was serious.

And it terrified him.

Kol is well aware of just how miserably his parents screwed up their job and he's pretty sure he couldn't do any worse but that doesn't mean he'd do well.

But the guy took just one look at you and he knew without a doubt that there was no alternative realm, no obscure future, and no minuscule probability in which he could cause you any harm.

For the first little while, you were convinced (thanks to the nuns) that you would have to be an absolute angel of a child in order to be wanted by your new parents. You helped clean things, refrain from using your magic, made your bed, brushed your teeth, and never asked for anything.

Three months in, you dropped a plate and broke down crying, begging Mr. and Mrs. Claire-Mikaelson (because you wouldn't dare call them mom and dad) not to send you back.

What began as your average Tuesday afternoon turned into a deeply formative experience when Kol sat you on his knee, looked you in the eyes, and said:

"Y/N, darling, I want you to listen to me very closely, alright? There is absolutely nothing on this earth you can do or say that will make your mother and I love you any less. There is no such thing as good enough - there is no bar you have to meet - only what you are. Now, a plate is infinitely replaceable, but you are our daughter and I will love you until the end of time. That makes you infinitely more valuable than a plate. Okay?"

"O-okay… dad?"

That was a day you never forgot as you grew older.

Speaking of growing, no matter how old you get, Kol can and will pick you up by the ankle and hold you upside down. It never gets old.

Also, piggy-back rides.

You did go through a phase where you were convinced there was a monster in your closet.

"Dad! There's a monster in my closet and it wants to eat my toes!"

"Really? Well, I must applaud the audacity."

There were quite a few nights you spent cuddled up between them as Davina braided your hair and Kol told you a story until you fell asleep.

Kol always refers to you and Davina as "his girls".

He's always willing to play with you, whether it be a game of tag or a complex drama plot with your dolls. (His personal favorite was when you decided to reenact the French Revolution in Barbie form.)

Daddy-Daughter Days are 100% a thing. The two of you are huge movie and arcade goers. Not to mention huge fantasy nerds. From Deltora Quest to Harry Potter to the freaking Wheel of Time - your fascination with the fantastical never fades as you grow. You never thought yourself too old to be read to at night, so Kol never stopped the tradition.

You're a little (a lot) spoiled. But not in a bad way. You're not ungrateful but let's just say you have quite a few pets.

Auntie Bex is always more than willing to babysit when your parents want some time to themselves. You remind her of Kol when he was a kid and she adores that.

Play-Dates with your cousin Hope mean quite a few headaches for your uncles Klaus and Elijah. Aunt Hayley thinks you're absolutely hilarious while Aunt Cami is convinced you're like 4 different varieties of insane. She might have a point there.

When you're old enough to be in school, you can always count on your parents to help you with your homework. You never would have made it through middle or high school without your dad, Kol is insanely good at math and chemistry. However, when it comes to anything to do with history or government, he passes the torch to Davina because even though he lived through it, he literally never paid enough attention to remember anything.

Parent-Teacher conferences are always interesting.

"Y/N is so intelligent. Truly a joy to have in class."

"Is she now?"

Neither of them buys it for a second. You have a mischievous streak a mile long, the teacher just doesn't know that you're the one putting tacks on her chair. Kol is honestly proud and Davina may try to be the voice of reason but she can't help laughing at just how alike father and daughter turned out to be.

Now, if Hope is "miraculously well adjusted" then you're probably something like a thirty-year-old in an eight-year-old body. You're like the most chill child perhaps ever. However, just like your father, your maturity level varies with the situation.

For example, Klaus once decided it would be a good idea to whip out the "You're not even a real Mikaelson" card at a family reunion. It wasn't long before Davina had thrown Klaus into a wall and Kol and Marcel were at each other's throats.

You honestly weren't even bothered. You knew your parents loved you and that was enough so you simply said:

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

And went back to eating your dinosaur chicken nuggets.

Marcel - apparently still a little touchy on that subject - was the last to sit down again. Little did he know just how proficient you had become with teleporting objects. Naturally, you were smirking when the whoopie cushion did its noble work.

Kol is terrified that he'll lose touch with you as you grow older.

This fear never comes to fruition.

The trust between you and your parents is something every other child ever would envy. They trust your judgment and, in turn, you trust the very few restrictions they put in place for you. It's crazy because they honestly never get mad. Like ever.

However, their disappointment is the worst thing you'll ever endure.

They told you not to go out one night because an old enemy of Klaus' was wandering around town. You went out anyway and you were attacked. Now, you were powerful enough to fight off your assailant and kill him, but you didn't come out of that fight unscathed. You had to limp home and tell your dad what had happened.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No. I've done much worse in my life, for much dumber reasons. To be mad at you would make me a hypocrite. I just know you're better than this - Y/N, you've shown me that you're better than this. I'm not angry with you. I'm just extraordinarily disappointed."

It happens only once and never again.

Growing up with those two for parents ensured that you quickly mastered your magic and became one of the most powerful and skilled witches of all time. But don't think for a second that you would ever be used. They would never allow that to happen.

As you reach middle and high school, a rumor begins going around that your dad is a vampire. You just snort really loud and make no further comment. It leaves everyone wondering.

First boyfriend?

Heaven help the poor sod.

"If you ever lay your hands on my daughter against her will, you will find that you no longer have hands. I will use the bones of them to fashion myself a new pen, with which I shall write your death certificate. Do I make myself clear?"

Once you're old enough, the basement becomes something of a witchy lab space.

Explosions are… frequent.

*Coughing* "Thank goodness your mother wasn't home for that one."

"Think again, Mikaelson."

"Oh shi-"

"Uh… Hi mom!"

You're probably the healthiest Mikaelson.

When the time comes for you to graduate, it's a hard dose of reality for Kol. He understands he has to let you live your life and he would never dream of taking that away as it was taken from him, but it's just hard.

You'll never stop being his little girl.

Special thanks to: @her-violent-delights

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zablife · 1 year

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Hi. I'm wondering if your gif imagines are still open. If so, may I request something cute and fluffy with this gif??:

Because I just got into the fandom and am DESPERATE for fics! Thanks in advance! :)

Hi Jessyca, tysm for the GIF ask! Below you'll find the short blurb I wrote for it. Welcome to the Peaky fandom! If you'd like some additional reading, here's a link to my Masterlist (I write for most characters) and a link to my Rec List for my fave content creators. Enjoy!

Takes One to Know One

You closed your eyes as you attempted to regulate your labored breathing to sound of the steady ragtime music. Placing your hand to your chest, you grasped for the weight of the stolen necklace at your throat, repeating the lie your aunt had rehearsed with you if someone should stop you. I'm Lady Sarah of Connemara, you whispered confidently. By the time anyone realized Lady Sarah didn't exist, you would be long gone. If you could find your way out that was.

The ballroom had grown increasingly crowded and you couldn't be sure of the way you had entered. As you tried in vain to find the exit, an irate looking older man surveyed the crowd and you recognized him instantly as the companion of the woman you'd robbed. You needed cover fast.

Glancing around quickly, you picked the first person you could find. "Dance with me," you insisted, grabbing an unsuspecting man by the arm and dragging him toward the dance floor. A look of confusion swept over his face, but you missed it as you glanced over your shoulder to see if you were still being followed.

You raced to join the throng of people circulating around the floor, packed tightly enough to conceal you. As you pushed your way to the center, your bodies collided with another couple who jeered at you as you passed. Your dance partner apologized briefly before turning to face you, his blue eyes wide as you stepped close to him and pulled his arm to your waist.

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?" he asked with an amused smile.

"Sarah," you replied distractedly, peering over his shoulder. "Lady Sarah....of Connemara," you corrected yourself, nearly forgetting your title. Bringing your full attention back to him, you quickly recovered with a dazzling smile.

"I'm Tommy," he said, eyes dropping to the precious gems at your throat. "That's a very pretty necklace, Lady Sarah," he complimented you.

"Thank you, it's, erm...a family heirloom," you lied, pleased to note you were quickly being carried away from where you started.

As you danced you noted how he carefully moved in time to the music, conversation scarce as he concentrated on the steps of the fox trot. You smiled at his genuine attempt to impress you and as you watched him, you realized he didn't seem as though he belonged there either. His suit was clean and pressed, but it wasn't the finest material available and his haircut was decidedly lower class.

However, you found yourself staring at his chiseled cheekbones and bright eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled. He must have felt the attraction as well, smirking at you knowingly with a hint of mischief in his eye. You giggled as he pressed a hand to your back, spinning you in the direction of the exit.

Despite the fun you were having flirting, you remembered you had a car waiting. Keeping your eye fixed on the door at each turn, you bided your time before dropping Tommy's hand suddenly. Thanking him for the dance, you turned to leave, only to feel him grasp your wrist, pulling you back to him.

Tommy's lips brushed your ear gently, hot breath ghosting over the side of your face as he whispered, "I won't tell anyone about the stolen necklace if you give me your telephone number."

You looked back at him slowly, paralyzed with shock. "I don't know what you mean," you said shaking your head.

A smug grin painted his handsome features as he cocked an eyebrow at you. "You're a thief, love, and not a very good one."

Your mouth dropped open at the accusation, mostly because he'd guessed correctly when you thought you'd done a fairly good job fooling everyone around you. "How did you know?" you asked with a gulp.

"Takes one to know one, I reckon," he said. "Now about that number?"

#zablife ask box #Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x y/n #Tommy Shelby x reader

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kunikuzushithesixth · 5 months

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MINORS DNI

Featuring :- dom!Scaramouche x sub!Fem!reader

TW :- Orgasm Denial, Mention of Punishment, Slight Bondage at the end, honorifics such as Sir, AU, marking, mention of genitalia

Requests :- OPEN

You played a prank on him yesterday. When he came home, you stole all of his clothes and hid them away — upon being questioned you acted innocent, denying any knowledge of the crime but he saw through your lies “You didn't do it..?” He probed further, hoping you would tell him the truth but you didn't. But he knew it already. After living together for so many years, he could easily tell when you were lying. The signs were there. The small childish giggle and how you fidgeted with your fingers — all of them gave you away. And today it was no different. You hid his clothes…. but, that's okay! He wasn't angry. He was just disappointed in you, that's all. He wasn't going to scream at you, or remind you how worthless you were like he usually did.

But, he was going to teach you a lesson. Something that you are going to remember for days to come. A lesson that will stop you from committing the same mistake twice…

Thankfully, he had a spare set of clothes in case an emergency ever rose. He wore it, and went to bed. Not a single word was exchanged between him, and you. It made you wonder if he was actually mad at you. Silent treatments were always the worst punishment for you. The thought of looking at your boyfriend, and not being able to speak with him seemed the worst kind of lesson he could possibly teach you.. But, that wasn't it.

To your surprise, everything was back to normal the next day. He was talking with you again, but something felt different. He wasn't the one to forget a prank so easily. When he said, there's going to be a punishment, there usually is one. So what happened now? You wonder, as your gaze falls on his face, and you see a smile. Nothing ever scared you, but when he smiled… It was like the calm before a storm. You shivered at that thought. What was he planning? If only you could read his mind. Every time, he looked at you, eyes so full of mischief and unpredictability, it made you scared — you wished you’d never played that prank on him. But, it was done. There was no changing the past. All you can do is wait, and accept your punishment.

And just like that, hours turned into days, and days bled into the weeks but he still hasn't done anything. He was talking with you, cooking for you — and looking after you, like a good boyfriend should. You thought he must’ve forgotten about your little prank and the promise of a punishment he had given you. You were relieved.

But, that comfort you felt was short-lived. He never forgets, nor does he forgive. He was just waiting for the right time and soon that opportunity presented itself.

You were at work today. Your boyfriend ; Scaramouche, was at your place, cooking and cleaning it. Or at least, that's what you thought he was doing. Instead, he was preparing an elaborate scheme for you. A punishment for your bad behavior.

That night when you came home, you looked beat. You were exhausted from working all day , and all you needed right now was a warm shower, a comforting set of clothes, and dinner. You were certain Scaramouche had prepared something nice for you, considering how good of a cook he was. Eating his food always replenished your strength, “Baby, I’m home.” You called out but there was no response. You wonder as you lay the sling bag on the table ‘Where is he..?’ You looked around the house, but there was not a single soul. Not even a single bird chirped outside. Maybe they had all gone to bed? It was, after all, a cold night. But, still the silence you heard was uncanny. It gave you jitters.

And, the absence of your boyfriend made it even more prominent, “Where the hell is he?” You say to yourself, the fatigue of an entire day suddenly weighing over your shoulders. Deciding it was almost useless to look for him, you walked upstairs to your bedroom.

You walked inside, and stood in front of the mirror — you were very tired. You could see it in your reflection, the heavy bags that had formed underneath your eyes from countless hours of grueling work. You wanted to quit, but it was impossible. While you kept thinking about it, you started to undress. Slowly, allowing your blouse to fall off your shoulders, you looked at yourself once again, admiring the sight. Hands almost reaching out to your breast, you felt a familiar ache in between your legs — but, you were too tired to act on it.

Instead, you unzipped your pants, tossed them aside on the bed along with a pair of lacy panties, and walked inside the bathroom.

Once inside, you turned on the shower and felt the warm water touch your body almost intimately, chasing the fatigue away. You started to touch yourself everywhere, massaging the sore muscles as you felt like you were reborn. The former tiredness which had plagued you no longer existed. All thoughts about work, you kept aside and enjoyed the warm bath — occasionally singing a melody to yourself. But, while you were enjoying it, something bad was happening outside.

Soon, you were done. You wrapped a towel around yourself, and walked out but something felt amiss. The clothes you had laid out on the bed were gone. Alarmed by it, you opened your wardrobe and as you guessed it, it was empty. Everything was gone. Even the secret closet of underwear you had was empty. Was there a break-in? You looked around, trying to figure out the source from where the thief could’ve possibly entered, but instead of a burglar, your eyes landed on a man — purple hair, indigo eyes, and around 5”3 in height. He had a smile on his face.

“ You are sick…” You say , and look at your boyfriend. It was naive of you to think that Scaramouche had forgotten everything. He never did.

“How about you look outside?” He said to you, and following his direction, you looked outside the window. You couldn't believe what you saw. Red tongues of flame danced against the nightly backdrop, as you watched your clothes turn to ash. Everything you’d bought so far meticulously burned to cinders, leaving you in naught but a towel. The cold winter breeze raises gooseflesh on your flesh, as the flame eventually dies leaving behind charred remains. So, this was the punishment he had been talking about? you look at him — a blend of confusion, and anger across your face. But, it appears Scaramouche wasn't done with his punishment yet, as he slowly approached you.

A wicked smile spread on his face, “You pulled a prank on me, remember? All I did was return the favor with interest. “ He told you, and you felt your body tremble. Whether it was from the cold, or anger — you couldn't tell. And, before you could protest further, your boyfriend’s hand reached out and undid the towel. The only piece of clothing that had protected you from the harsh cold, as you impulsively hide your chest.

“It's pointless.” You heard him croon, and felt that ache return between your legs as you squeeze them together. You were naked — and completely vulnerable to whatever sick fantasies Scaramouche had in mind. But, that feeling of helplessness turned you on. You felt your nipples perk, made worse by the cold wind.

Gods. You whisper. You couldn't take it. You wanted Scaramouche to touch you, and end the suffering but then it wouldn't really be a punishment, would it? Not unless you suffered — you had to repent for every little mistake you ever committed against Scaramouche “I am sorry, Sir. I will do well from now on.” You begged, as the pleasure continued to build, reaching heights you never experienced.

And as you were on verge of collapsing, you felt Scaramouche's lips all over your naked flesh, decorating it with lipstick marks. Was he wearing lipstick? You couldn't think straight — perhaps he was, you thought and immediately felt his hand squeeze your thigh, earning a moan from you. It was impossible to remain quiet. Not when he abused your body like that. His tongue idly runs circles on your nipples, teasing you.

Unable to endure the torture, you grabbed your boyfriend’s hair roughly and shoved your breasts in his mouth.

You could care less about your punishment now — all you wanted right now was pleasure, “Please, Sir.” You heard yourself say, your voice wavering as Scaramouche sucked on your perked nipples. As he did that, you felt his digits dive right in between your legs.

“Fuck.”

You pulled on your bottom lip with your teeth, trying your best to keep the noises at a minimum — the walls were thin, and you didn't want your neighbors to know how much of a whore you were. You had a reputation to uphold, after all. But, Scaramouche was making it hard. With his fingers invading your wet folds, he vigorously abused your clit making you moan. As his fingers thrusted in, and out of you — he started to bite your nipples, bruises appearing all over your unblemished skin.

But you were not satisfied. You wanted more, “I want to cum.” You speak in a feeble voice, burying his face in your chest. Your hand trails down his smooth alabaster flesh, as you try to fish out his cock. His incredibly hard mahood which you felt against your stomach, but before you could take it out, you were stopped. Your wrist tightly grabbed, and tied behind your back with a velvety rope. All of it done before you could realize anything.

“What are you doing..?” You question, as an orgasm threatened to spill out your wet pussy but before you could reach that high, Scaramouche left you all alone. You tried to follow him, but with your limbs tied together, you could hardly move a muscle. All you could do was stare helplessly at the door , as the orgasm settled down.

Now — naked, cold, and left with an ache, you can do nothing but wait ; hoping for Scaramouche's return.

#genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact #gens #scaramouche #oneshot #fem!reader #dom! wanderer #wanderer

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a-d-nox · 6 months

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pac/pap (creature feature: mermaid): what are you clinging to that must run free? are you fighting the tide or moving with it?

welcome to my october pac/pap creature feature series - instead of having a single pac/ pap this month, there will be five! every monday (at 5p / 17:00 EST) this october, a new creature will be coming out to play as the sun begins to set earlier and earlier... keep an out; you never know what is lurking in the darkness..

today's creature is the mermaid: song queued: "rock lobster" by the b-52's! do you live near the water? with the upper body of a human and the lower body of a fish, merfolk are known for their playfulness that borders on mischief. they inhabit the water ways and will seek entertainment in any form that they can get it...

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: succubus: what do you desire but can't express?

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading. options and prices!

pile one

it is likely that you are clinging to the idea that your thoughts, plans, and dreams are not good enough. you need to have some confidence in yourself because you are good enough - you don't need others validation to move forward. do what makes you feel happy, free, and alive. i have the feeling that right now you are doing the exact opposite. trust that your work won't be liked by everyone but that someone will love and appreciate it as much as you do. you can't level up if you are still clinging to others to accept you and tell you that your thoughts, plans, and dreams are worthwhile. you have what it takes - so go on and dive in.

you are definitely fighting the tide. i feel like you are tired - hell my eyes feel tired as i look at my screen and type this. i feel like you might be forcing yourself and your ideas, thoughts, and plans on to someone whose mind is already made up. while i praise you for being forward and aggressive with what you want, i do think it is time to let the waves take you in another direction - to another person/situation.

pile two

i don't feel like you are necessarily clinging to anything - more like "holding". you seem sure of yourself and your situation. but there lies what you might be clinging to subconsciously - control. be generous with others as well as with yourself right now. not everything is set in stone. worry less about what you gain and more about what you are doing.

lol who knows what you are doing - it feels like you are going in multiple directions - or perhaps you are just treading the water. treading water is fine to do BUT do remember the waves of an ocean are going to flow no matter what - you can't stay in this moment. things are bound to change and you will be washed to shore at some point. i vote to let the chips fall where they may - i feel like there is some sort of conflict going on around you at this moment. maybe someone is trying to take your place in a group or at work - don't be afraid to speak up but know that something is bound to change whether you want it to or not.

pile three

i feel like you are clinging to the past, you don't want things to change. but you are going to. change is scary and i do feel like you are stressed or worried about something that is coming up that is bound to change things for you - i am telling you this change is a good thing. you are going to be just fine. have some faith - trust the universe because it has your back. don't be afraid to be your true self right now - express yourself.

you are the only one that i feel is going to swim with the current after reading this post - in fact, it feels like you are a natural swimmer; you aren't even going to try that hard to swim. you're just going with the flow. my only advice to you is not to isolate yourself from other - reach out!

want a personal mermaid reading? tip 2.99 USD with the comment "mermaid" and i will privately get back to you with what you are clinging to but can't express and whether or not you are fighting the tide!

other then that, thank you for reading! don't forget to comment down below which monster you believe is coming to join us next monday?

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star-sparkler · 9 months

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August Character Qs 🦋💫💜

A while back I went through an OC question list and answered a buuuunch for August in my spare time. I don’t think I ever shared it outside of friend groups so! IF YOU WANT MORE AUGUST INFO.....I GIVE TO U MANY, MANY WORDS REGARDING MY CHILD. (Question from here: Link and Other Link) _________________________________________________ 1) What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

-Not Long. August is a Doer and she gets bored fast if there’s nothing to occupy her. Patience is not her forte.

2) How easy is it for your character to laugh?

-Normally quite easy! August is a happy kid in general and easily moved to giggles. She’s one of those people who starts laughing over something a half a second before others sometimes because she anticipates punchlines, so when they’re said she’s already primed to laugh. August loves wordplay especially. Where her dad might roll his eyes at Uncle Leo’s jokes, August absolutely DELIGHTS in them.

3) How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

-August likely has a very specific routine she doesn’t like messing with and might struggle to fall asleep without. It likely involves some form of brushing her teeth, washing her face, hugs goodnight, an eskimo kiss to Uncle Teddy (her plush bear), and maybe some kind of low stakes puzzle game like sudoku if she’s not quite tired enough for sleep. August generally keeps schedules and has pretty healthy sleep hygiene because of it.

4) How easy is it to earn their trust?

-I think August generally trusts until proven otherwise. Obviously she holds “villains” on a different level and takes everything they say/do with a grain of salt. The problem of August trusting people normally lays more in allowing herself to be vulnerable enough to trust IN others. Short answer: she’s inclined to trust but generally keeps herself removed unless it’s a family member.

5) How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

-Very easily. She’ll give second chances but She Will Not Forget.

6) Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?

-August is a Rules person (unless she’s feeling cheeky/curious. In which case it’s more “we have to follow the rules!! But not me as long as i don’t get caught. If I get caught though I resign myself to my punishment willingly) but not really a Laws person (it’s hard to be when you grew up outside the norm). She probably has higher regard for Hidden City laws than NYC laws.

7) What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

-Little echoes of someone - their habits and smells and quirks and interests, stuff like that. It’s an achey feeling she doesn’t like but doesn’t hate because it brings loved ones or moments back for a bit.

8) What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child

-Getting into general mischief/places where she shouldn’t be. August is nosey and curious and that led to a lot of exploring the lab and trying to figure out how things work even after being shooed off. If you tell her No then you need to explain exactly why or she’s going to figure it out herself because you just gave her an Unsolved Puzzle. And puzzles are meant to be solved!

9) Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?

-No swearing! This is where Rules August comes in. She’s adopted a lot of her Papa’s fun swear alternatives though.

10) What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

-August is a BAD LIAR. So any attempts are usually lies of omission or ones that are very easy to immediately sniff out. She often fesses up to attempts at lies with very little pressure.

11) How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

-August always asks. She hates Not Knowing and if she doesn’t get a response that’s satisfying she’ll ask again. If someone can’t help then she starts researching the answers herself.

12) How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?

-If no one else is around she’ll probably use a wall corner tbh. As a kid, she might’ve gone to her family for help.

13) What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

-Regardless of how it looks, August’s favorite colors are teal and purple so she gravitates to them whenever they’re available. Luckily, they match her own colors and each other quite nicely.

14) What animal do they fear most?

-I don’t think August really fears any particular animals? I shall think about this one and get back to it another time. :0a

15) How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

-If business casual was a way of speaking, that’s basically August. She leans toward more formal-ish speak / grammatical accuracy / frequent use of SAT words / not much slang type speech (though she Does occassionally incorporate colloquial phrases. You’re just unlikely to hear her mashing words together). Rehearsal depends who she’s talking to. Usually she speaks impulsively but if she’s anxious she’s more careful with her word choices. If she’s about to ask a big scary question, she will absolutely rehearse it beforehand.

16) What makes their stomach turn?

-Probably gory things. I gotta think about this one cause she doesn’t really get exposed to anything truly unsettling for a long time.

17) Are they easily embarrassed?

-YES. VERY MUCH SO.

18) What embarrasses them?

-Any significant mistake tbh. She struggles with ribbing if it’s not clear that it’s done out of endearment. Basically if something she does makes someone laugh and that was not her intent, she’s not a fan. Laugh with her, not at her, and all that.

19) What is their favorite number?

3.14159

20) If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?

-She would probably just break it down by Latin root words and/or dictionary definitions. 21) Why do they get up in the morning?

-Because it’s morning! (The SKY’S awake! So SHE’S awake!)

22) How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?

-Probably clingy, feeling like she needs to prove her worth and reinforce her presence. She might get a little annoying about it, and mopey if she’s not given the attention she’s seeking.

23) How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)?

-I don’t think envy is something August is prone to. It would probably stay internal if it did.

24) skip

25) What are their thoughts on marriage?

-She has a high regard for the love that marriage represents.

26) What is their preferred mode of transportation?

-Anything active rather than passive. Walking, skateboarding, quick Uncle Leo portals.

27) What causes them to feel dread?

-Realizing she’s hurt someone without meaning to, big mistakes, loved ones in danger/hurt/upset/disappointed (especially in her).

28) Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth?

-NO. She would rather people be real with her. Finding out later she’s been lied to would feel like a huge betrayal and like she can’t be trusted.

29) Do they usually live up to their own ideals?

-August struggles a lot with this as an older kid / teenager - She’s out here trying to wear shoes too big for her just yet. She’ll grow into them but there’s a lot of frustration with herself along the way. I think she’ll make a capable and confident adult though. ;w;

30) Who do they most regret meeting?

-no one that I’m aware of. Yet? hmm

31) Who are they the most glad to have met?

-Depends on the AU but in her cousin one with friends’ ocs then KARA!! (T’s Raph fankid and August un-disputed best friend and closest person) And all of her family rly. Little Casey Jr of her timeline.

32) Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke?

-nah I don’t think so

33) Could they be considered lazy?

-NO, SIR. NOT AUGUSTINE HAMATO.

34) How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt?

-Really, really hard. So hard.

35) How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive?

-August matches the excitement and is generally super supportive of everyone’s endeavours. If she thinks it’s a bad idea though she’ll be honest about that.

_________________________________________________

1) Are they happy with their body?

-Yup

2) Do they have any secret piercings or tattoos?

-nooooope

3) Do they collect anything?

-MAYBE pretty rocks or tiny shells. August isn’t really prone to keeping stuff unless it has sentimental value but she loves the beach and might take home moments from there.

4) What is their favorite music genre?

-pop, j-pop, k-pop, indie, lofi

5) What music genre, if any, do they hate the most?

-screamo probably?

6) What is their phone background/lock screen?

-Probably a selfie of her and a family member in cosplay

7) What is their shoe size?

-who wears shoes in this family

8) Do they have a favorite fabric or texture?

-SOFT plush blankets, cool smooth wooden floors. August is very particular about what textures touch her shell.

9) Do they have a favorite professional sport?

-Ice skating! Long-boarding (and skateboarding). Hockey!!

10) How do they decorate their living space?

-Very tidy and un-cluttered. August isn’t materialistic so she doesn’t keep a lot of THINGS and what she does have is carefully curated or stored in neat boxes. She might display nerdy keychains / stickers / photos of family on cork boards all scrap-book style hung on the wall.

11) Are they messy, or do they clean up?

-Always cleans up after herself. August isn’t a fan of messes.

12) What’s their preferred sleeping position?

-She probably falls asleep curled up on her side but ends up sprawled out on her back, limbs everywhere.

13) Did they have a favorite comfort item as a child?

-Her plush bear, Uncle Teddy, that she got from Uncle Raph as a baby. She still sleeps with it into her teens and hugs it when she needs a boost of courage.

14) Do they have a favorite period in history?

-Feudal Japan

15) Can they cook? What’s their favorite thing to make?

-Noooo. No she cannot cook at all. She can bake well though. From-scratch cookies are her go-to for stress-baking.

16) What food do they hate eating?

-I gotta think about this one gjhgjh

17) Do they have any allergies?

-I haven’t given her one but who knows

18) What was their worst injury?

-She messes up her knee real good on a mission as a teen and that becomes a reoccurring injury / ache later.

19) What movie is most likely to make them cry?

-Fox and the Hound. Or Lion King for the Mufasa scene.

20) What movie or book could they watch/read a hundred times

-Maybe Treasure Planet. Or some kind of engaging/fun science documentary. For book, maybe Journey to the Center of the Earth?

21) Can they dance? Do they like to?

-Choreographed dancing she ROCKS, impromptu dance she’s kind of clumsy and just vibes but she does love dancing.

22) What was their favorite birthday gift?

-Probably something special her dad made just for her.

23) Which birthday do they look back on the most fondly?

-ALL OF THEM

24) What kind of cake or birthday treat would they prefer?

-A light lemon cake or strawberry shortcake. Her favorite is fruit roll cake with lots of mandarins, strawberries, and kiwis on top!

25) What is their favorite animal?

-platypus

26) Do they wear perfume/cologne? What is their favorite scent?

-Nah. Favorite scent is probably just whatever her family smells like tbh. Or something light, subtle, and floral

27) What smell do they hate the most?

-Hot garbage idk fbdbdjf

28) What sound do they hate the most?

-Shrill breaks, pain screams

29) What video game would appeal to them the best?

-Something cerebral, with puzzles. Maybe Professor Layton, LOZ. Or just straight up puzzle games. Sudoku and Minesweeper.

30) How would they relax on a day off/rainy day?

-She might take a nap if she can rope a family member into snuggling with her. Otherwise there’s plenty to do inside to keep busy. Training, books, “helping” in the lab, playing with family. I imagine Donnie has kid-friendly science-y learning activities / projects on standby to keep her busy when she has nothing to do - a bored August is a mischievous August and no one wants that (especially Donnie)

31) Are they combative? What is their fighting style?

-I don’t know if this is literal physical fighting or the emotional side of fighting. I’m gonna skip it for now.

32) Would they be the one to start an argument?

-Probably not intentionally but if she really believes in something she’ll speak up and Will Not Back Down. That could potentially lead to an argument.

33) What is their personal style? Favorite outfit?

-sporty leisure wear, loose and comfy. You know she loves a big soft purple sweatshirt.

34) Do they have a dream job?

-Full fledged Hamato Ninja

35) What do they do if they can’t fall asleep?

-She might do some light exercise. Better to wear herself out some more than lay in bed staring at the wall. If she’s having trouble sleeping it’s probably because she’s stressed about something and needs to get the energy out, in which case she’s heading to the dojo to train the bad vibes out of herself OR to the kitchen to stress bake the bad vibes out of herself.

36) Do they wear makeup regularly? If they don’t, would they consider wearing any?

-Makeup isn’t August’s thing. She might for cosplay situations or special occasions if someone else is doing it for her but I don’t think she’d enjoy the feel of it on her face.

37) Do they prefer to be really cold or really warm?

-Warm!!

38) What recurring dream do they keep having?

-Probably some kind of stress dream about letting loved ones down / being yelled at by them. OR FLYING. The nightmare and the dream.

39) Can they drive? What vehicles are they licensed to operate?

-When she’s a teen I imagine she’ll learn to drive the tank and motorcycles. If the boys are unlicensed then I don’t think she would have a license either.

40) Do they believe in true love? Have they experienced it?

-I think August recognizes love is active and not a given - you have to work hard for it, but romantic love isn’t on her radar. She’s surrounded by tons of familial and platonic love though and feels those deeply for her people.

Did you really read the whole thing??? I’m honoured. I’m giving you a little gold star. Here, it’s for you. ( ; w ; )-⭐ Thanks for caring about my silly lil oc. TwT <3

#AugustineHamato

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