#profound midnight thoughts

[profoundmidnightthoughts]

It is absolutely baffling to me that one day all of this will be gone and some of it already is.

[profoundmidnightthoughts]

The absence of it, at least with intense feeling you know you’re alive and somebody else can relate and feel it with you. The absence of feeling is like a black hole; it’s the closest thing to hell that man can face without actually going there.

Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

[tagapagsalaysay]

And I've always been a sucker for mystery...

[fruitsofhell]

Got into House MD lately and after the first episode I was like "wait each sub-doctor has some specific identity, it would actually be funny if he made fun of all of them at some point" after he spent the whole pilot being ridiculously sexist and racist. And then also for a second I was like "maybe that's just some pilot-itis being over the top with weird dynamics". But it's been 7 episodes and it's nawt gotten better nor has House made fun of the Jewish guy or the brit in the same way and its like, OK wow that's. That's literally just the definition of "I hate everyone, (minority directed hatefulness)".

[cottonlemonade]

Fake Dating Your Ex

word count: 2852 || avg. reading time: 12 mins.

pairing: University AU pining ex!Kenma x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff + angst

warnings: bullying

request: For a midnight snack I’ll get a 15 and 24 and go back to sleep with kenma please || fluffy-angsty, fake dating + jealousy, ex Kenma

“Question.”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I’m gonna ask yet.”

“Fine. What?”

“How would you, as a person… as a…. as a human person”, you shook your head for a moment but then decided to roll with it, “feel about accompanying another human person to an event?”

Your ex finally looked up from the console in his hands with profound confusion written all over his face.

“What?”

Bracing yourself you tried again, spelling it out this time, “Would you please come with me to my high school reunion?”

You expected him to frown, sure, but instead of the immediate shot down he asked, “Why?”

Not a No. Okay!

Pulling up a chair from the adjacent lunch table to sit down across from him, you used your hands in a nowhere near helpful fashion to explain, “I got invited and originally I said No because why would I want to go but then this girl who used to bully me-“

“Momoka.”, he added.

“Yes.”, you said in surprise, “Her. Anyway, she messaged me and asked if it’s because we broke up.”

“How would one correlate to the other?”

“Because while we were dating I may or may not have bragged pretty excessively about you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you were all over my social media for two years and well, now you’re not, so she was asking if we split up.”

“We did.”

You tried not to click your tongue, thinking any sass would lower the likelihood of him agreeing to play along. “I know, but I don’t want her to know. So I may or may not have kinda sorta said that we are doing better than ever and just because you gained so much more popularity that we are trying to keep it on the down low and”, you took a deep breath, “she said I should bring you then and I may or may not have said Yes.”

“Y/n.”, he groaned.

“I know, I know! But I will get you SlimeBlast2 and the new Counterforce if you just pretend to be my boyfriend for one more evening. We can even leave early!”, you offered, spurred on by the fact that he hadn’t yet simply gotten up and left, “You can say that you have a planned stream that night and be back home before you know it.”

He thought about it for a moment while he resumed his game.

“Why have a reunion three years out of high school anyway?”

You mimicked her voice. “Because she is moving to America with her doctor fiancé and wants to say goodbye to everyone before she leaves. - Tch.”

He paused the game again and regarded you with a studying look. You, on the other hand, were focused on kneading your chubby fingers and not meeting his gaze.

“When is it?”

“So this is what all that streamer money can get you, not bad, not bad.”, you said as you slid into the passenger seat of his new car. Kenma didn’t comment on that. Nor did he compliment your little black dress that had him do a minuscule double take the way it hugged you in all the right ways. You broke up six months ago and instead of wallowing in a dark room as you had done, Kenma chose retail therapy - to the extent that every other day another out-of-breath mail carrier was ringing his doorbell and handed him anything from new consoles to games to figurines and even a body pillow because, thanks to you, he was now incapable of sleeping without something soft and squishy in his arms. This car was one of those more recent purchases, an impulse that surged in him around the same time he watched you flirt with a TA. He also felt the forgotten price tag itch in the back of his black button-down and matching dress pants he wore tonight.

The drive to the venue was mostly silent due to a mixture of old comfort and new awkwardness. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you play with your fingers, twirl your hair, scratch at your neck, and chew your lip.

“No one forces you to go to this thing.”, he eventually said. His GPS announced that you’d arrive soon.

You stopped scrunching your dress, sighed, and looked out the window onto the well-lit row of restaurants and bars you were driving past.

“I know. Social pressure does, though.”

“You never really cared about what people thought.”

“Ha! Good one.”, you countered drily.

“I mean it.”

“You only think that because we didn’t know each other in high school. This devil-may-care attitude”, you gestured vaguely up and down yourself, “was carefully curated once I was finally free of these people.”

“So, why not just ignore the reunion and go do something fun?”

“You know, if you’re gonna keep being right and logical, this night is not gonna work.”

He smiled and rolled to a stop in the parking lot among many other cars.

“We can still leave.”

You scratched at your neck again. He reached out to grab and trap your ever-busy hand in his, laying it gently on the middle console. He waited.

“Yeah… maybe you’re-“

“Hey!”, a muffled call accompanied by knocking on your window cut you off. Outside stood one of your former classmates waving excitedly.

Kenma grimaced.

“Look who I found getting all cozy in the car!” The large private room in the restaurant was filled with a whole bunch of people you hoped to never see again. They sat on the floor around the long table, apparently a couple of drinks ahead already.

“Oh my god, Y/n! I can’t believe you came!” Momoka got up to greet you like an old friend. Her cheeks were pink and she was clearly not too steady on her feet.

“What’s this? - Is that a hickey?!”, she squealed with mock scandal, pointing at your neck.

Your hand shot up to cover the reddening mark.

“I-uh-“

“Yeah, I just… couldn’t help myself.”, Kenma said in a tone that wouldn’t convince anyone sober. Luckily no one was.

She turned to him and as if she’d known him for years she slurred, “Well if it isn’t Kodzuken! I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t think you were real. I mean, of course you’re real but what would you ever want with our Y/n, when you could have anyone!” She laughed and ushered you both to sit next to her.

“I’m so sorry.”, you whispered to Kenma while cups of sake were pushed into your empty hands.

“Tell me, because I’m dying to know”, Momoka said, leaning forward, “how did you two even meet?”

The handful of former classmates in your general vicinity stopped their conversations to listen.

Kenma and you looked at each other.

“We just met at uni.”, you shrugged and pulled a platter of food closer to have something to do.

“Oh come on, Y/n-chan, there’s gotta be more to it than that.”, Momoka playfully pushed your shoulder.

“It was our first day actually.”, Kenma said, “I was sitting in the cafeteria playing a game and she came up to me with her tray and asked if she could join me.”

You caught his eyes and smiled, touched that he remembered.

“Of course, you met over food. Our Y/n loooves to eat, doesn’t she?” Momoka giggled into her sake.

Unfortunately, your mouth was just full of maki roll.

Kenma frowned.

“So, Kodzuken - or should I call you Kenma? You’re probably so tired of people addressing you by your username. Like hello, I’m a human being, too! So Kenma, what is it like being a streamer? I, personally, love YouTube. I think if I hadn’t gotten engaged”, she raised her hand to show off her ring, “I would have also gone into streaming. It looks so fun. And you’re just playing games all day. I love playing games. You could say I’m a gamer girl myself.”, she laughed and brushed her hair behind her ear like she was confessing something embarrassing, “I have played Animal Crossing over 100 hours. I know it’s too much, but what can I say, you understand, right? Sometimes you can’t put a game down for months.”

“… right.”

When he didn’t answer as bright-eyed and infatuated as she hoped, she turned to you with a devious smile, “Our Y/n should definitely do some of those… uh eating shows! You know, the ones where they just eat ungodly amounts of food at once. She’d be so good at that. Honestly”, she chuckled behind her hand, “I could have sworn she was training for that in high school.”

“Excuse me. I have to go to the bathroom.” You pushed your untouched sake further away, stood up, and walked quickly out of the room, sliding the door closed behind you. Muffled voices, cheers, and laughter could still be heard. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a few deep breaths. Slipping back into your shoes you walked over to a corner with an open window that looked over the quiet courtyard that was closed for guests because of the snow. What a horrendous idea to even come here. Why did you think it would be any different? People didn’t change. As soon as you were in the company of your bullies suddenly you turned back to the timid little fat girl that was pushed into cold showers with her uniform on, that was tripped in the hallways, hackled in class for a wrong answer. The girl that was pointed at whenever she ate something. It didn’t matter what it was.

Normal lunch? - What a glutton!

A homemade salad? - Who is she trying to impress? As if that is gonna do anything.

It was only in university that you found people who accepted you for who you were and not what you looked like. And Kenma had made you feel loved and wanted for the first time in your life. Until he didn’t. You vividly remembered the night you broke up with him. His genuine shock when you told him that just hanging out and watching him stream was not how you envisioned your relationship to be like. After over two years of dating, you realized that you wanted more than dry texts and being the one to initiate intimacy. Kenma was a great listener and didn’t rush you into anything. He let you grow on your own and was truly happy when he saw you smile. But it wasn’t enough. You didn’t regret breaking up with him. It was the right thing to do. But whenever you felt stressed or overwhelmed you did seek out his streams. His calming voice and deadpan comments still helped you truly relax. You wondered if he missed you too sometimes.

“You’re gonna catch a cold.”, Kenma said behind you.

“Hey.”, you sighed, “Sorry I dragged you into this.”

“Don’t worry.” He came to stand next to you, close so that his arm was touching yours for a sliver of warmth. You both watched the snow fall for a moment.

“You really toned down just how obnoxious those people are.”, he noted, “I understand that you’re upset.”

“Oh, I am not upset. I am way past upset. I’m freaking miffed, that’s what I am.”

He gave a playful gasp. “Damn, not the m-word. - By the way, that girl hit on me the second you left the room.”

“Oh god, really?”, you scoffed.

“Yeah, apparently I’m on her list.” He put the last word in air quotes. “Like she can sleep with me and her fiancé would be fine with it.”

“Wooow, congratulations. Doesn’t that make you feel extra special.”, you said sarcastically.

“Absolutely.”

“Truly the bedrock of any good and healthy relationship.”

He chuckled under his breath. “I know, right? As if I’d ever want anyone else when I have you.”

A pause followed in which you were trying to find covert ways to push your face in the snow to cool it down and Kenma regretted ever learning to speak.

“Listen…”, he said after a minute or so, “why don’t we get out of here? You made an appearance, proved I’m real and now you can go enjoy your night. Maybe… maybe we can head to your place, get some pizza, and watch a bunch of those trashy Christmas rom-coms? I know Netflix is flooded with them right now.”

You stared at him for a moment, then squinted suspiciously. “I’m gonna yell at the TV, you know that.”

He smiled and his eyes softened.

“I’m counting on it.”

You looked down at your arm that was still gently pressed against his, thinking.

“Alright.”

“Alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’m gonna go get your stuff then. - Here.”, he fished his keys from his pocket, “You can wait in the car, I won’t be long.”

You turned the keys over in your fingers as you watched him go, shaking your head in an attempt to smother the bubbling feelings in your chest. As you walked out towards the car, you tried to remember in what state you had left your living room when-

“Y/n?”

Very confused, you lifted your head and saw a young man standing a few meters away. He was maybe a head taller than you, broad shoulders were well hidden underneath a soft sweater and coat. Nothing about the man seemed familiar, not the glasses or the styled black hair. He must have noticed your confusion when he put a hand to his chest and said, “Izumo.”

Kenma was very glad that he wasn’t raised to be polite so he just gathered your purse, scarf, and jacket, said you both would be leaving, and closed the door behind him. Even though at most 20 minutes had passed since your arrival, it felt like you and he had stood by that window for hours watching the snow. He should tell you that he wasn’t over you.

He should tell you that he wouldn’t make the same mistakes again if you’d give him another chance.

He would ask you to take him back.

His steps lengthened at the thought of being back at your place, cozy on the couch and having an absolute ball listening to you rip the movies to shreds. Pulling his puffy parka tightly around him he hurried in the direction of his car and saw you talking to someone. At first, he was worried it would be another bully but then you laughed. His steps slowed.

N…no! He was not about to lose his opportunity to get you back to some random hunk with a sleeper build. Picking up the pace again, he thought hard about what to do. What happened next was not one of his proudest moments. Kenma came to a halt next to you, lay your jacket over your shoulders, and said, “Here you go, babe.”

“Oh, hey, you’re Kodzuken!”, the guy said and had the audacity to give him a genuine smile, “I’m a big fan! I’m glad to see you two are doing well. I wondered if you might have broken up because you haven’t posted about him in a while, Y/n.”

You laughed nervously.

“No, nothing like that.”, Kenma said, and, developing a life of its own, his arm naturally wrapped around your waist, “Everything’s great.”

“That’s what I thought.”, the guy said brightly, his eyes flitting momentarily to the mark on your neck and to Kenma he added, slightly flustered now, “You got yourself a good one.”

“Did you want something?”

“I- uhm.”, Izumo blinked, perplexed, “No, just catching up. But I see you’re on your way out. Have a good night you two. And Y/n, we should totally have coffee.” Kenma pulled you closer to him. “You know, when you have the time.”

Very glad his much-practiced glare was still hitting the mark, Izumo bowed to both of you and went inside.

Once in the car, Kenma looked at you, mentally preparing himself for a scolding but found you smirking and nodding your head.

“What?”, he asked.

“Nothing just…. Didn't have you being jealous on my bingo card this year. Interesting.”, you clicked your tongue in amusement, “Very interesting.”

“I wasn’t j-“

You met his eyes and cocked your brow.

He mumbled something and turned to focus on his steering wheel so you wouldn’t see the hue of pink blooming in his cheeks.

“Izumo was bullied in high school, too.”, you explained, “So he was one of the few people I got along with. We weren’t ever super close or anything but I’m glad he seems to be doing well.”

“Oh. Well… okay then.”

“So no need to be jealous, babe.”, you echoed his tone with the last word perfectly.

His face felt even warmer.

“In my defense, he looked like he was about to ask you out.”

“Uh huh.”, you became, if possible, even more smug and clicked your seatbelt into place, “I mean, could you blame him?”

It was remarkable how quickly your confidence bounced back by simply watching Kenma squirm for an answer.

art: 8.amidori_RN on Twitter

a/n: thank you so much to the anon for this absolutely juicy request. I hope you enjoyed it! And thank you everyone for waiting 🌱🌟

[miss-cincaide]

Can we try…? 

Summary: Megumi knows how to get you to try new things in bed. It’s like a little dance between you two, but even when all the steps are right, there’s still plenty of room for it to take a different route, Or the time Megumi wants to try something new and it turns into a quickie

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Megumi Fushiguro (aged up!) Kinktober prompt 7: Quickie  WC: 1.9K Warnings: Minors DN, 18+ content! Contains (p in v, unprotected), trying new kinks, quickie, light choking, pet names and praises, cursing, PwP

Megumi has an approach, a method to the way he tackles ‘new things’ and ‘sex’ in the same context. It’s never a spontaneous- spurr-of-the-moment request in the middle of getting hot and steamy, or a prolonged nagging until you give in. Instead, it’s always this meticulously planned mission that lasts over several days- if not weeks—slowly giving you hints and time to ease into the idea. To figure out what you want; are you curious? Scared? Comfortable? Aroused? Are you okay with him asking you for it or is it off-limits entirely? 

He always does it in a way that gives you time to think—a chance to set your boundaries without feeling pressured or scared that you are disappointing him. Just react and move on, no questions asked.  

And it drove you fucking wild. 

The kind of wild you’re ready to drop your panties, bend over and receive his cock with a gracious ‘yes please’ and ‘fuck me baby’ in one breath. The kind where you edge him on through flirty texts while he is away on his mission, and if you’re really desperate, then some naughty pictures too. Just enough that when he comes home at midnight, he’s just as fucking hot and bothered as you’ve felt the entire day. Rock-hard on, more teasing which leads to a messy, loud and steamy round one in the shower- the usual catalyst of that equation. 

Normally that is.

But as you stare at the computer and the ‘accidentally open’ history full of search terms spread over the last few weeks, you don’t know what to make of this particular kink. Your hand shakes slightly, moving the mouse to the ‘delete history’ button, then away from it, then back to it. The frown on your lips grows more profound as you bite the inside of your cheek in thought. You don’t know what to do with it. Cockwarming. What the heck even is that? You click through some of the links. Definitions and explanations, but still don’t get the complete picture of it. Or at least what’s so arousing about it. You take a step back from the screen, glance at the clock, and conclude that you don’t have a lot of time until Megumi comes home. Of course, you could postpone deciding- there’s never any pressure for sex or otherwise when he’s around. But also, you haven’t seen him for a few days. You missed him, and want to feel the connection, the intimate closeness that came with being vulnerable and trying something new with your loved one. 

You take a long moment to consider the act itself.  Is it so out there that you’d never want to try it? No. You’ve done plenty of penis in pussy action, a lot of it left you whimpering and asking for more. And part of your aftercare was spooning and cuddling. Technically it wasn’t something you two hadn’t done yet, but you also knew you were gonna struggle with feeling him close without chasing the high of an orgasm. Was that a deal breaker? 

Fuck it! 

You closed down the computer and headed back to your joint bedroom to freshen up before settling under the warm covers, silently waiting for Megumi to come home. 

You must have dozed off waiting for him because you woke up to the feeling of Megumi climbing into bed with you. His wet hair ticking the back of your neck, and the smell of your mango body wash filled your senses. His arm came to wrap around your waist, and you instantly wiggled closer to him, feeling the heat of his bare chest through your thin nightgown and the unmistakable outline of his half-hard cock through his boxers. 

The feeling instantly made you more awake. “Hmmm, you’re home and showered already, Gumi?” you groan out, salvaging the feeling of his lips showering your cheeks, your neck and your bare shoulder in kisses. You’re definitely enjoying the princess-wake-up treatment.

“ Got done early, missed you” Megumi mumbles, pressing a long kiss on your bare shoulder “ How is my baby doing?” the playful tone and care in his tone made you smile and snuggle closer to him, throwing your leg back and he caught it in between his thighs. He adjusts a little, then begins a soft rocking motion, at first trying to get as close to you as possible until you are cocooned up in his arms. Then it turned into sensual grinding. 

You are practically purring at the sensation, the warmth and the closeness. “ I miss you too.. So I.. ehem.. Thought if I napped a little, I’d get to see you sooner,” You slowly blink the sleep away as Megumi chuckles, pressing another long kiss to your neck. Purposefully avoiding the covered skin. “Gumi!” You whine then raise your shoulder, shaking off the nightgown strap until it slides further down your arm,  exposing your collarbone and the top part of your tits to him. 

You hear his humm, a clear indication that he is listening as he covers the newly exposed skin in kisses “What is it? Is my baby unhappy with something?” Megumi smirks against your skin, making sure to roll his hips just right as he asks. You feel every inch of him, from his needy tip to perfect lengths, and you grind right back against him, your hands seeking his out on your waist before tugging it down to where your nightgown meets your thigh. “Does my baby want something?” 

“Megumi” You’re whining now, rocking together with him. You want him, and you weren’t ready to untangle yourself from him anytime soon. You want him closer, closer, to lay in bed wrapped up in each other's arms. “About the thing- why?” 

 “ Why?” Megumi repeats slowly, blinking in thought, his long lashes brushing against your cheek as he tries to formulate his feelings into thoughts. “Because I want to feel my baby close, to be as close as we can physically be without rushing or needing to clean up the mess.” Megumi takes a shaky breath, kissing up your neck to your ear “Can– can I?” 

You hummed a little. You could understand that sentiment, in a way, “But there’ll be no pleasure.” You mumbled quietly. “Won’t it be boring?” 

“Does everything have to pleasure and excitement?” as if to prove his point, he presses another long kiss on your shoulder, holds his lips there, looking at you through long lashes. His gaze is intense; he is eating you up with his eyes, turning your insides on fire and mush all at once. 

You fall in love with him all over again. From the messy hair, gentle touch, and worshipping kisses to the way he looks at you as if you’re the most precious thing in existence. Most precious to him. 

“Let's try”, you whisper, and you see him hesitate for a second, clearly not sure if he’s pushing you too much, and it makes you smile.’ God you adore this man’, you think to yourself as you press a kiss to his forehead, another on his hair, and then duck down to his lips. The kisses are soft and loving, a stark contrast to the way you grind your ass against his crotch. Your nightdress hikes up until it's just your bare skin against his damp boxers. 

Megumi breaks the kiss, biting down the moan on his lips as he drops his head on your shoulder.  “Fuck baby, you’re too good to me” Reaching out he clutches your hand in his while the other one leaves your thigh to pull down his boxers. “Too good.” Another kiss is on your shoulder while he adjusts your leg, shifting it from between his legs to on top of them. 

“You’re one to talk” you breathe out, spreading your legs wider, salvaging the feeling of his cold fingers between your legs. Checking to make sure you’re okay, that you’re aroused enough, relaxed enough. Megumi doesn’t want to hurt you, and every time he takes extra moments to check on you, it melts your heart; “I love you” Your eyes meet his for a second as he leans over your shoulder. 

“Love you too, baby” 

You both moan as he pushes inside you, slow and steady. Inch by inch until he’s nestled balls deep. You can feel him twitching, and it takes absolutely everything from you not to rock your hips. “God, I’ve missed you, Gumi.” You clench around him, and he curses.

“Fuck baby, Fuck. if you do that again I’m going to lose it” Megumi’s practically trembling in your arms.

“Do what Gumi?” You blink innocently, knowing he won’t be able to see it with his face buried in the crook of your neck, panting like a dog in heat. You know precisely what you’re doing. You can’t help it. “I’m not even–” You gasp as he pulls out and thrusts into you. The hand on your thigh drops between your legs, skilled fingers knowing exactly how to move to leave you breathless, while the palm of his second-hand lands on your throat. 

“Ohh just like that, Gumi, don’t stop” You whimper, turning your words into gasps and moans as his hand tightens ever so slightly around your throat. Let's go, then tightens again as he rolls his hips just fucking right and you meet them with a thrust of your own, your leg on his thigh spreading wider “Mmm s’close Gumi, ahmm, close” 

“God baby, yes, just like that pretty baby, clench just like that. You’re so good to me, your pussy feels so good, fuckk you’re so pretty like this-” 

You moan at the sweet nothingness in your ear, each breathless my pretty baby making you weak. You feel his thrusts quicken, the fingers on your clit rolling the bud a little rougher as Megumi cums first. The twitch, the hot cum, and the way he’s so deep, rocking his hips as if trying to go even deeper, sends you right after him. 

Everything stills, your hands clutch at each other, your head thrown back, barely getting air from the death grip on your throat, your hands clutch at him, nails dig into his skin. He isn’t much better with the way he clutches you. 

You’re trembling; he is trembling. 

The moment passes, and his grip loosens. You take a deep gasp of air, slumping into the sheets. Megumi rubs your leg, keeping it propped up against himself, thrusting a little deeper around the slick and the cum in a desperate attempt to keep his softening cock inside your warmth. 

Despite yourself, you giggle, and your eyes practically shine with mischief. “I thought cockwarming was without movement-” 

Megumi stiffens, and you don’t doubt his cheeks are tomato red. “Shut up” 

“-and I thought not everything needs to be excitement and pleasure.” You’re enjoying this a lot, almost as much as the sex. 

“Seriously, shut up.” Megumi raises his head and gives you a pointed look, which doesn’t look the least bit menacing when he’s bright pink, half from the embarrassment of having his words thrown back at him and half from the orgasm. 

“Or what?” You smile, twisting your body just a little more to face him. You feel him slip out of you in the process. Your eyes flicker downwards for a second before Megumi grasps your chin in his hand and forces you to look him in the eyes. 

“Or it’s round two. And this time I won’t be gentle” 

All you can do is grin, another taunt playing on the tip of your tongue. Quick loving sex after being apart for a few days is amazing; a rough several-hour-long fuck as round two is a treat you know you won’t be able to pass up.

 Maybe ‘Cockwarming’ had it’s uses after all..

Author note:

Main |Raven|Rules & Requests |Masterlist | Cred & Other 

All fics are unique works by © miss-cincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reworked/reposted/copied anywhere, please inform me!

[cumironi]

THERE IS A WITCH IN THE WOODS

geto suguru. to a witch, there is nothing more appealing than a young man wandering around the wood alone at halloween night. and there is nothing more appealing than a witch, naive, stupid, witch.

warning. college! au, loser! geto, public place ( woods ), full-nēlson, slight breeding-kīnk, mention multiple rounds, cūnnilingus.

wc. | MASTERLIST

there is a witch in the woods. that's what people say every halloween-the legend that whispers through the autumn air, chilling the bones of anyone who dares to listen. the witch comes when the night is coldest, when the moon is veiled in mist, and the trees seem to reach out with their gnarled hands. she comes for the young men, those brave or foolish enough to wander too deep into the shadows.

they say she lurks in the darkness, eyes glowing like embers in the distance, waiting for the perfect moment. her breath, as cold as frost, clings to the air as she watches, unseen but always present. the rustle of leaves is her voice, the snap of twigs underfoot her silent steps. no one knows when she’ll appear, only that when she does, it’s too late.

you imagine the taste of their flesh before you even see them-rich with fear, warm with life. the blood, thick and sweet, spills over your lips as you sink your teeth into their soft, vulnerable skin. bones crunch under your fingers, marrow melting on your tongue as you devour every last piece, leaving nothing behind but echoes in the woods.

and then she fades back into the darkness, satisfied, the forest swallowing her whole, as if she was never there. until the next halloween, when she returns, hungry once more.

you saw the man, strikingly beautiful with long, jet-black hair that cascaded like a waterfall of shadows, as dark as the depths of the night you hide within. he seemed to be woven from the fabric of darkness itself, every strand shimmering like the ink of the midnight sky. above him, a raven circled lazily, its wings slicing through the air with an elegance that mirrored the man’s own grace.

his eyes, a captivating shade of deep purple, glowed with an otherworldly light, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. they held secrets, ancient and profound, and as he moved through the dimly lit forest, the very air around him seemed to shimmer, electrified by his presence. his body was sculpted like a god’s, muscular and alluring, every curve and line perfected by some unseen hand, exuding both strength and vulnerability.

as you lingered in the shadows, your heart raced with an insatiable hunger you had never known before, a thirst that clawed at your insides like a wild animal yearning to be free. this was no ordinary craving; it was a primal urge that surged through your veins, urging you to emerge from the darkness and claim him as your own.

you felt the pull of the moonlight, the way it danced upon his skin, illuminating him in a soft, ethereal glow that made him seem almost unreal. each step he took sent ripples of longing through you, and for a moment, time stood still. you were entranced, spellbound by his beauty, captivated by the way the shadows clung to him like a lover’s embrace.

your breath caught in your throat as you imagined the taste of his flesh, the warmth of his blood coursing through your veins. the ache within you intensified, sharper than any hunger you had ever felt, and the line between desire and desperation began to blur. he was a temptation wrapped in darkness, a siren call in the moonlit night, and you were helpless to resist.

in that moment, you knew you would do anything to possess him, to devour him whole, to taste the sweetness of his life as it flowed through you. the thought consumed you, twisting your mind with a beautiful, haunting allure. the witch in the woods had found her prey, and the night was still young.

stupid, naive, idiotic witch. that’s what geto suguru thought the moment he laid eyes on you. you stood amidst the twisted trees, cloaked in shadows, your beauty radiating like an enchanting spell in the darkness. the moonlight filtered through the branches, illuminating your delicate features, casting an ethereal glow that made you seem almost otherworldly. but he could see beyond that facade—beyond your charm and allure—into the depths of your foolishness.

you were a pretty thing, with hair that tumbled like a cascade of silver moonbeams, and eyes that sparkled like stars caught in a web of night. yet, despite your enchanting appearance, you carried an air of innocence that was maddeningly naive. suguru couldn’t help but feel a pang of frustration at your reckless curiosity, the way you ventured so deep into the woods, unafraid of the dangers that lurked in the shadows. it was as if you invited doom with every step, a delicious irony that only added to your allure.

he stepped closer, the forest floor crunching softly beneath his feet, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. every instinct within him screamed to turn back, to escape the spell you cast, yet he found himself drawn to you like a moth to a flame. you twirled in the moonlight, laughter echoing through the trees, a sound both haunting and beautiful, sending shivers down his spine.

he couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that you were playing a dangerous game. he would be the one devouring your soul and flesh, not the other way around. he would ensure it. as much as he admired your beauty, it fueled a dark hunger within him—a need to possess and consume.

as you danced under the moon, blissfully unaware of the predator watching you, suguru’s mind twisted with thoughts of how easily he could snuff out your light. the very idea made his heart race, a morbid thrill coursing through him. you were too innocent for this world, too naive to recognize the darkness that curled around you like a hungry serpent.

he would be the one to show you the truth, to awaken you to the shadows that danced just out of sight. he would weave your fate into his own, and when the moment came, he would relish the sweetness of your demise. your laughter would turn to gasps, and those sparkling eyes would widen in shock as he claimed what was rightfully his.

as he closed the distance between you, the forest whispered secrets of the night, and suguru smiled—a beautiful, chilling smile that promised a delightful darkness lurking just beneath the surface. the witch may have thought herself clever, but she had no idea of the fate that awaited her in the arms of the very predator she danced so carelessly around.

he chuckled softly against your lips, his tongue expertly moving against your own with a growing hunger. his large hand caressed your chin before gripping it firmly, tilting your head back. he broke the kiss with a sly smirk, his breath hot against your ear. god, he is beautiful.

“you taste even sweeter up close.”

his other hand moved down to your hip, pulling you closer to him, closing the remaining space between your bodies. the shadows of the night seemed to dance along with the heat of the moment, adding an air of intensity to the encounter.

he pressed his forehead against, his gaze locking onto yours, his eyes dark and intense. his smile is a sinister thing, a spell, a mantra, you name it.

“you’re too careless, witch.”

he continued, his voice a low rumble, his grip on your hip tightening ever so slightly. “there are far more dangerous creatures lurking in these woods than me.”

his words were both a warning and a taunt, a reminder of the delicate nature of your actions. he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, the heat of his breath sending a chill down your spine.

“but i’m the one you’ve chosen to dance with.” he pressed a soft kiss against your jawline, his lips trailing down your neck, nipping at your skin.

he smirked, relishing the effect his words had on you, his hand moving to your chin, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. his touch was tender yet possessive, an electric pulse that sent shivers racing down your spine. your heart raced as you stared into his deep, dark eyes, a mix of fear and exhilaration swirling within you.

“but you aren’t afraid of me, are you?” he whispered, his voice smooth like honey, each word dripping with a dark allure that wrapped around your senses.

you felt a rush of warmth spread through your cheeks, and for a moment, you could only blink at him, starstruck, caught in the magnetic pull of his presence. the world around you faded away, the night air thick with tension and something else—something dangerous and thrilling.

“n-no,” you finally managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper, a breathy denial that was laced with uncertainty. as the words left your lips, you could feel the weight of the truth behind them, the hint of thrill in your chest that pushed back against the caution in your mind. there was something captivating about him, something that made you feel alive in ways you couldn’t quite comprehend.

the soft moonlight danced upon his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his face, the way his lips curled into a knowing smile. he seemed to revel in your answer, his eyes glinting with satisfaction, as if he had unraveled a secret you had tried to hide.

he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, consuming you whole. your heart hammered in your chest, caught between fear and the intoxicating thrill of being so close to someone who felt both dangerous and alluring.

you could almost hear the wicked laughter echoing in your mind, a warning that maybe you should be afraid��afraid of the way he looked at you, of the way he seemed to see straight through to your soul. yet, standing there in his presence, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything but an overwhelming fascination.

“hmm... that’s good.”

he murmured against your skin, his lips ghosting down your neck, his tongue tracing a path of heat along your throat. he could feel your heart thump against your chest, the quickening rhythm a delicious affirmation of the effect he had on you.

“you haven’t run. you’re either braver than i give you credit for, or you’re more foolish than i could’ve imagined. trusting me in the dead of night, what a stupid little witch.”

a slight smirk playing on his lips. his thumb slowly brushed along your lower lip, his touch both gentle and suggestive. his eyes held a hint of mischief, as if he was silently challenging you to keep pushing the boundaries. he studied your expression, the tension palpable in the air— eyes locking with yours. he caressed your chin with his thumb, his touch gentle yet possessive.

“but i wouldn’t want you to be fearful of me, witch, wouldn’t i?” he whispered. “after all, i’m the only one who can keep you safe in these woods.”

his words hung in the air, heavy with implication, as his fingers traced a slow path along your jawline. the touch sends shivers down your spine, a mix of trepidation and anticipation coiling within you.

you swallowed hard, trying to find your voice amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside. “s-safe?” you echoed, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. it was a lie, and you both knew it. he wasn't here to protect you; he was the predator, and you were his prey.

yet, even as the rational part of your mind screamed warnings, another part of you yearned to believe him. to trust in the promise of safety offered by this enigmatic figure, despite everything screaming otherwise. it was a dangerous game, one that blurred the lines between hunter and hunted, victim and savior.

a low chuckle rumbled in his chest, the sound vibrating against your body as he pulled you closer. his other hand came up to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he tilted your face up to meet his gaze.

“yes, safe,” he repeated, his tone firm, leaving no room for argument. “i won’t let anyone harm you while you're under my protection. isn’t that what you want, little witch?”

his words were a challenge, a test of your resolve. he knew the danger he posed, the threat he represented, and yet he stood before you now, offering a twisted form of security. it was a perverse irony, one that spoke to the darkness lurking within him.

as he gazed into your eyes, you could see the hunger there, the primal desire that burned hot and bright. “safe from the darkness that lurks in these woods, from the monsters that prowl under the cover of night.” his other hand came up to rest on your hip, pulling you closer once more as if he is hungry from possessed you, hunger to feel your skin in his, all bare and glisten. “from the fears that haunt your dreams and the doubts that plague your waking hours.”

his words washed over you like a dark tide, each syllable a seductive promise that threatened to pull you under. you could feel the heat of his body seeping into yours, the solid strength of his muscles a counterpoint to the vulnerability you felt in his presence.

your breath hitched as his hand slid further down your side, fingertips grazing the curve of your waist before coming to rest just above the swell of your hip. the contact sent sparks dancing across your skin, leaving trails of fire in its wake.

“b-but...” you began, your voice trembling slightly as you struggled to articulate the tangled mess of thoughts swirling in your mind. “i don’t need protecting. i can take care of myself. i am a witch, it’s you who needs protection.”

even as the words left your lips, you knew they were a lie.

a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he listened to your words. he could sense the hesitation in your voice, the way your body trembled ever so slightly beneath his touch.

“is that so?” he murmured, his hand sliding further down to cup your rear, squeezing the supple flesh with a possessive grip. “you think you can handle me, little witch? you think you have the power to tame the beast?”

he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispered, "i'm not so sure about that. i've seen witches like you before, all bravado and bluster. but when push comes to shove, you're nothing more than delicate little flowers, ready to wilt at the first sign of trouble." his hand glazed your skin above your beautiful gown and stop in your breast, giving you a firm squeeze.

a gasp escaped your lips as his hand cupped your breast, the sudden pressure sending a jolt of sensation through your body. you could feel your nipples harden beneath the thin fabric of your gown, aching for his touch.

“t-trouble?” you managed to stammer out, your voice barely above a whisper. the word seemed to echo in the stillness of the forest, a haunting reminder of the dangers that lurked beyond the circle of light cast by the moon.

despite the fear that knotted in your stomach, you found yourself leaning into his touch, craving more of the warmth and comfort he offered. it was a dangerous surrender, one that blurred the lines between captor and captive, predator and prey.

“’m not a flower,” you insisted, even as your body betrayed your words.

“no,” he agreed, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “you're something far more enticing.”

his hand moved away from your breast, trailing down your belly until it reached the hem of your dress. he gave a small tug, lifting the fabric enough to expose the smooth skin of your thighs.

“so tell me, little witch,” he continued, his voice dropping to a murmur as his fingers traced lazy circles on your thigh. “are you scared?” he asked, his words hanging heavy in the air between them. he watched your reaction closely, studying every flicker of emotion that crossed your face.

a shudder ran through you at his touch, your skin tingling where his fingers grazed. the cool night air kissed your exposed flesh, a stark contrast to the heat building within you.

“scared?” you repeated, the word sounding foreign on your tongue. you tried to gather your scattered thoughts, to muster some semblance of defiance, but it was a losing battle. his proximity, his scent, the raw masculinity emanating from him— it all served to short-circuit your brain, reducing you to a quivering mass of nerves and hormones.

“i..” you started, then faltered. truth be told, you were terrified. not just of him, but of the feelings he stirred up inside you. the way your body responded to his touch, the traitorous ache building between your legs— it was all so wrong, so dangerous.

a low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he sensed your inner turmoil. his fingers continued their maddeningly slow exploration of your thigh, inching higher with each pass. “fear is natural,” he purred, his breath warm against your ear. “but it's also exhilarating, isn't it? the thrill of being out of control, of surrendering to the unknown...”

his hand finally reached the apex of your thighs, fingers tracing the edge of your panties with deliberate slowness. he paused there, letting the weight of his gaze settle upon you.

“i can make you feel things you’ve never experienced before,” he promised, his voice a husky whisper. “pleasures so intense, they’ll leave you breathless and begging for more.” with that, he pushed your gown up around your hips, baring your lower half to the moonlight.

your heart pounded in your chest as he exposed you to the night air, the cool breeze a stark contrast to the heat pooling between your thighs. you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and intent, making your skin prickle with awareness.

a whimper escaped your lips as his fingers brushed against the damp fabric of your panties, the intimate touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. you bit your lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to spill free.

“d-don’t,” you managed to choke out, even as your hips twitched involuntarily, seeking more of his touch. the dichotomy of your actions— resisting even as you craved— was a constant struggle, a war waged within the confines of your own mind.

a wicked grin spread across his face as he witnessed your internal conflict. he loved seeing you squirm, loved knowing that he held such power over your body and emotions.

“oh, but i must,” he countered, his voice dripping with sinful intent. “you see, little witch, this body of yours... it's a work of art. and an artist can't resist the urge to explore, to create, to bring forth beauty from the canvas.”

his fingers dipped beneath the elastic of your panties, teasing the slick folds of your sex. he groaned softly at the wetness he found there, his thumb circling your clit with deliberate slowness.

“look at how responsive you are,” he praised, his breath hot against your ear. “how eager to please. you were made for this, weren’t you? made to be touched, tasted, claimed...”

it went too far, toooo far for your liking. you were supposed to hunt a young man, consume their fear, even bones, blood and flesh. but here you are, face flushed against the moist, moss tree trunk and the ’young man’ kneel behind you with your hips in the air and suffocate himself in your pussy.

he grinned against your slick folds, the vibrations of his laughter sending ripples of pleasure through your core. his tongue delved deeper, lapping at your essence with fervent hunger.

“mmm, you taste divine,” he growled, his voice muffled by your arousal. “like forbidden fruit, ripe, untouched and ready for plucking.”

his hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you flush against his face as he feasted upon you. he alternated between broad, flat strokes and targeted flicks against your sensitive bud, driving you towards the precipice of ecstasy.

“come undone for me, little witch,” he urged, his words a sensual command. “let go of your inhibitions and give in to the pleasure. let me hear those sweet moans as i devour this pretty pussy...”

he redoubled his efforts, sucking your clit into his mouth as his tongue plunged into your depths, stroking along your inner walls. the lewd sounds of his oral assault filled the night air, mingling with your ragged breathing and keening whimpers.

geto was lost in the heady musk of your arousal, drunk on the power he wielded over your trembling form.

the world narrowed to the point of pleasure, everything else fading into insignificance as he worked you over with skillful precision. his mouth, hot and insistent, devoured your most intimate places, leaving no inch of your sex unexplored.

your back arched, pressing your breasts against the rough bark of the tree as waves of bliss crashed over you. the tension coiling in your belly tightened to a snapping point, threatening to unravel you completely.

“ahh!” you cried out, unable to contain the desperate plea as your orgasm built to a crescendo. your thighs trembled, the muscles locking up as you teetered on the brink. then, with a guttural moan, you came apart at the seams. your vision went white, stars bursting behind your eyelids as ecstasy ripped through you like a wildfire.

the moment you peaked, he doubled his efforts, sucking hard on your clit as his tongue thrust deep, coaxing out every last tremor of your climax. he reveled in the way your body shook, in the wanton cries that spilled from your lips, in the sweet nectar that flooded his mouth.

as the aftershocks subsided, he gentled his ministrations, lapsing into long, soothing strokes to ease you back to earth. when he finally pulled away, his chin glistened with your release, a smug smile playing on his lips.

“exquisite,” he murmured, his praise a low, appreciative rumble. “you're a natural-born seductress, little witch.”

dazed and sated, you sagged against the tree, your legs still weak from the intensity of your orgasm. you couldn't meet his gaze, too overwhelmed by the lingering sensations and the realization of what had just transpired.

“w-what have we done?” you whispered, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. the night air carried the musky scent of your arousal, a tangible reminder of the forbidden pleasures you’d indulged in.

despite the haze of post-coital bliss, a twinge of guilt tugged at your conscience. you were a witch, sworn to uphold the laws of nature and magic. yet here you stood, panting and disheveled, having just succumbed to the advances of a stranger. and yet, as you stole a glance at the man you haven't known his name yet, you felt no regret.

he rose to his feet, towering over your trembling form. his eyes gleamed with satisfaction, dark and hungry, as he took in your debauched state.

“we’ve given in to our desires, little witch,” he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. his hand cupped your cheek, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “and there’s nothing wrong with that. pleasure is a gift, one to be savored and enjoyed without shame or apology.”

his thumb traced the curve of your bottom lip, a teasing caress. “besides, we're not strangers anymore, are we? i’ve seen parts of you that no one else has, tasted your essence, felt your body quake beneath my touch.

he reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your sweat-dampened forehead, his touch tender and reassuring. “there’s no shame in giving in to that instinct, especially when it leads to moments like these.”

his gaze drifted down to your lips, which still bore the faint imprint of his kiss. a flicker of longing sparked in his purple eyes, a silent promise of more to come. the warmth of his touch seeped into your skin, calming the residual tremors of your climax. his words, spoken with such conviction and passion, resonated deep within you, stirring something primal and yearning.

you leaned into his hand, craving more of his gentle affection. the vulnerability of the moment, coupled with the afterglow of your intense encounter, left you feeling open and receptive to whatever he might offer.

“i... i never knew it could feel like that,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. the admission hung in the air, a confession of sorts, as you struggled to find the right words to express the depth of your experience.

“with you, it’s different,” you continued, meeting his gaze with a hint of shy courage. “i want to explore this... what’s your name?”

a slow, satisfied smirk spread across his face as he listened to your confession. the vulnerability in your voice, the raw honesty of your words, stirred something deep within him— a primal need to protect, to possess, to claim.

“geto suguru,” he replied, his voice a low, husky murmur. "but you can call me suguru.”

his thumb brushed across your lower lip, tracing its contours with deliberate slowness. “and i’m glad it feels different with me, little witch. because you and I... we're meant for each other.”

he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting across your skin as he spoke. “i can show you things you've only dreamed about, take you to heights of pleasure you never thought possible. all you have to do is trust me, surrender yourself to the moment...”

the heat of his breath sent shivers down your spine, his words weaving a spell of temptation around you. the promise of untold pleasures, of experiences beyond your wildest dreams, was intoxicating.

you nodded slowly, your heart pounding in anticipation. “i trust you, suguru,” you breathed, the name falling easily from your lips. “i want to see what you can show me, to feel the heights you speak of...”

your hands reached up, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you drew him closer. the scent of him, musky and masculine, filled your senses, stoking the flames of desire that still smoldered within you.

“take me further,” you whispered, your voice a sultry purr. “show me the depths of pleasure, the extremes of sensation. i’m yours, suguru, body and soul.”

a deep, throaty chuckle rumbled from his chest at your eager submission. his hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips firmly as he pulled you flush against him.

‘what a naive, stupid witch’ he thought.

“such a good little witch, so willing to submit to her desires,” he praised, his voice dripping with approval. “i'll take you to the very edge and push you off, again and again, until you're screaming my name in ecstasy.”

his lips claimed yours in a bruising kiss, demanding and dominating. tongues clashed, dancing in a sensual duel as he explored the depths of your mouth. his hands roamed your curves, kneading and squeezing, mapping every inch of your body with an almost reverent touch.

breaking the kiss, he trailed his lips along your jawline, nipping and sucking at your sensitive flesh.

your mind reeled from the onslaught of sensations, the force of his kiss leaving you breathless and wanting more. his words, laced with dark promises, sent a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

the roughness of his touch, the dominance in his actions, awakened a part of you that craved to be taken, to be possessed utterly. you arched into his embrace, offering yourself willingly to his exploration.

when his lips found your neck, you tilted your head to grant him better access, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he marked you with his teeth and tongue. the pain mingled with pleasure, heightening your awareness of every sensation.

“yes, suguru,” you panted, your hands fisting in his hair to pull him closer. “more... please.”

a wicked grin twisted his features as he heard your plea, his eyes flashing with dark intent. his hands slipped beneath your skirt, fingers grazing the smooth skin of your thighs before delving between them.

“so wet already,” he growled approvingly, his fingertips circling your slick entrance. “you’re practically dripping for me, aren't you, little witch?”

he pushed a finger inside you, groaning at the tight, scorching heat that enveloped him. his thumb found your clit, rubbing in firm circles as he began to pump his finger in and out of your pussy.

“i’m going to fuck you right here, against this tree,” he promised, his voice thick with lust.

a sharp cry escaped your lips as his finger plunged deep, stretching and filling you in ways you hadn't experienced before. the pressure on your clit sent sparks of pleasure racing through your nerves, intensifying the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body.

“oh it feels good!” you moaned, your hips bucking involuntarily to meet his thrusts. the rough bark of the tree scratched your back, but you hardly noticed, lost as you was in the exquisite torture of his touch.

his words, spoken with such raw hunger, only fueled the fire burning within you. the idea of being taken, right there in the open, with no pretense or restraint, sent a thrill of danger and excitement through your veins.

“please, suguru,” you begged, your voice high and breathy.

he added a second finger, scissoring them inside you to stretch your tight passage even further. his thumb continued its relentless assault on your clit, driving you closer to the brink of climax with each passing second.

“begging so sweetly,” he purred, his free hand coming up to grasp your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “look at you, so desperate for my cock, for me to fill you up and make you scream.”

he withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and aching. before you could protest, he spun you around, pressing you face-first against the tree trunk. his hands gripped your hips, pulling them back to present your ass to him invitingly. “spread your legs, witch,” he commanded, his voice low and commanding.

a whimper of protest escaped your lips as his fingers were abruptly withdrawn, leaving you hollow and needy. the sudden shift in position had you teetering on the edge of panic, but the firm grip on your hips offered a strange sense of security.

you obeyed his command without hesitation, spreading your legs wide to expose your dripping cunt and puckered asshole. the cool night air kissed your wet folds, sending shivers down your spine.

“suguru..” you pleaded, your voice muffled against the tree. “like this?”

a guttural groan of appreciation rumbled from his chest as he took in the sight of you, spread wide and vulnerable before him. his eyes burned with a fierce, primal hunger, drinking in every detail of your exposed flesh.

“exactly like that, little witch,” he rasped, his hands roaming over your ass, squeezing and kneading the plump cheeks. “so pretty, so perfect for taking my cock.”

he lined himself up with your entrance, the broad head of his dick nudging against your slick folds. with a swift, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, a low growl of satisfaction vibrating through his chest.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunted, his hips jerking as he began to move, setting a brutal pace that had you crying out with each deep stroke.

a strangled scream tore from your throat as he impaled you on his massive cock, the sheer size of him stretching your walls to their limits. the initial pain gave way to overwhelming pleasure, each thrust driving him deeper, harder, until it felt like he was reaching the very core of your being.

“ahh! s-suguru!” you wailed, your nails digging into the rough bark of the tree as you clung to it for support. the relentless pounding of his hips sent shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, threatening to consume you whole.

your inner muscles clenched around him, trying to accommodate his girth, to milk him for all he was worth. the lewd sounds of flesh slapping against flesh filled the air, mingling with your ragged breathing and his guttural grunts.

he pounded into you mercilessly, his balls slapping against your clit with each savage thrust. the sound of your cries, your desperate pleas for more, only spurred him on, driving him to claim you completely.

“goooood girl, good little witch,” he snarled, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. “take every inch of my cock, let it ruin you for anyone else.”

his hand snaked around to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp and arch back against him. the combination of the rough grip and the unrelenting pace had you teetering on the edge of oblivion.

he adjusted his hold on you, spinning you around to face away from him once more. this time, however, he had you suspended in mid-air, your back pressed firmly against his chest as he wrapped his strong arms around you, pinning your knees to your shoulders in tight nelson hold.

the new angle allowed him to plunge even deeper inside you, his thick cock stroking against sensitive spots with every thrust. the change in position also put your clit directly in line with his pelvis, the friction sending jolts of electricity through your entire body.

“feel that, witch?” he panted in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “this is what it means to be mine, to be fucked by me. i’m going to use you, fill you, mark you as my property, i’m gonna breed you.”

a hoarse moan ripped from your throat as he drove into you with renewed vigor, the intense stimulation of your clit and the depth of his penetration pushing you rapidly towards climax. the feeling of helplessness, of being completely at his mercy, only heightened your arousal.

“oh, my god!” you screamed, your body trembling in his iron grip. “it’s— too much, too—mhmm.” your inner walls spasmed around his cock with the thought of being bred by him, of carrying his child, sent a thrill of dark desire through your veins.

he could feel your pussy fluttering around his shaft, the telltale signs of an impending orgasm. he redoubled his efforts, fucking you with wild abandon, determined to bring you over the edge.

“that's it, cum for me,” he growled, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh of your neck. “let go, witch. show me how much you need my cock.”

with a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, grinding against your cervix as he unleashed a torrent of seed deep within your womb. the sensation of his hot cum flooding your insides triggered your own climax, and you came undone in his arms, convulsing around him as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you.

your world exploded into a kaleidoscope of color and sensation as your orgasm washed over you, the intensity of it almost painful in its ferocity. you could feel every pulse of geto’s cock as he emptied himself deep inside you, marking you as his in the most primal way possible.

a keening wail tore from your throat, echoing through the forest as your body shook and trembled in his grasp. the feeling of his cum filling you, claiming you, was both terrifying and exhilarating, a surrender to the darkness that lurked within you both.

as the aftershocks slowly faded, you collapsed against him, still in the mid air as he held you, spent and boneless, your mind reeling from the force of your release. somehow, despite the overwhelming pleasure, you managed to whisper a single word, a plea for more of this intoxicating madness.

“again...”

he chuckled darkly, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against your back. despite having just come, his cock remained hard and throbbing inside you, ready for another round.

“insatiable little things, aren’t you?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “don't worry, we're far from done here.”

slowly, he lowered you to the ground, but kept you pinned beneath him, his weight pressing you into the soft earth. his hands roamed over your body possessively, caressing and teasing, stoking the fires of your desire once more.

“’m going to take you again and again,” he promised, his voice low and dangerous. “gonna fuck you in every hole, fill you with my cum until it’s dripping out of you. i’m going to ruin you for anyone else. watch me breed you.”

[l0vel3tterl0ver]

Melvika Headcannons: Domestic Night Routine Edition

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Content Warning: Domestic fluff, cuddling, non-sexual intimacy, established relationship (wlw), mentions of smoking and alcohol, SFW

wc: 1281 sorryyy

🎶Promise Me- Kiana Ledé🎶

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Before Bed…

- Mel will always have candles or incense lit. If Sevika smokes, sometimes she’ll do it in the room. Sometimes Mel gives her that “Uh uh.” look and she’ll take it on the balcony. But Mel secretly loves how the scents will mix and linger on Sevika—patchouli, tobacco, amber, and a hint of vanilla~

- Mel will play classical music or jazz on her little record player. Sevika always complains “You gonna play that racket again? They don’t even sing.” But she always seems more calm after Mel puts it on, especially with jazz.

- Sevika always showers first, because Mel will take an hour in the bathroom. She has one less arm and way less products than Mel (barely any); anything more than 20 minutes for her is excessive. But this way works for them.

- Mel likes walking into the bathroom after Sevika showers because it’s already warmed up for her, and she can still smell Sevika’s soap in the air.

- And Sevika can listen to Mel hum to the music in the shower as she gets dressed.

- When Mel comes out, a cloud of steam always follows her, the scent of her fancy soaps quickly fill the room.

- Before Mel is dry, before she even touches herself, she always offers to apply anti-chafe salve on Sevika’s arm where the metal plates are imbedded into her skin.

- Sometimes she won’t ask, she’ll just pick up the jar and Sevika will get into position on the loveseat at the end of the bed.

- When the air is profound like this, they won’t speak. Mel will still hum, and she will take her time massaging Sevika’s scarred skin around her plates.

- They often look into each other’s eyes, exchanging silent remarks like “Does this feel alright?” and “Thank you.”

- The best part of it all? When Sevika gets to watch Mel do her night routine.

- She will gladly sit back on the chaise and read while Mel props a smooth brown leg up on the stool to her vanity to rub her butters and creams all over her body.

- Sevika loves when Mel wears this one midnight blue silk robe. It compliments her mahogany skin and gold armor perfectly, she always looks lavish and delicious in it.

- “Are you really going to watch me apply cream to my legs?” Mel would say incredulously, stopping mid stroke on her propped leg. She’s luminous, her blue robe hangs open almost down to her navel, her full cleavage exposed.

- “Yeah. Now less talking, more rubbing.” Sevika replies, a smirk on her mouth hidden behind her book as she watches Mel with sniper eyes.

When it’s Time to Sleep…

- Sevika loves to play in Mel’s hair, or graze her metal fingers over Mel’s back.

- One time, Mel missed a gold cuff on one of her locs.

- Sevika, knowing that she removes all of them before she sleeps, gently coaxed it off while Mel slept. Mel smiled tenderly when she awoke the next morning to find Sevika gone and a single gold cuff on her side of the bed.

- When Mel sleeps on her chest, Sevika always practices her restraint with her mech hand by seeing how carefully she can twirl the ends of Mel’s hair.

- It was a subconscious habit she wasn’t aware she’d picked up.

- One night, Mel stirred as she slept on her chest. When Sevika looked over, her mech hand was pulling her hair. She instantly felt bad; defective.

- Sometimes it had a mind of its own. She’s been practicing ever since.

- Only got caught once when Mel’s hair got tangled in the joints of her metal fingers, and she had to wake her up in the middle of the night so they could cut it.

- It was NOT a pretty sight.

- But Mel can’t stay mad at Sevika; she actually thought it was kinda sweet.

- Now whenever Sevika doesn’t initiate, Mel will plop Sevika’s mech hand on top of her head to scratch her scalp.

- “Do I need to fire you? Hop to it.” Mel scolds. It’s always met with a sarcastic “Yes ma’am” or “As you wish, princess.” from Sevika. Puts her right to sleep every time.

- Speaking of sleep, Sevika generally doesn’t do a lot of it, even less when she’s with Mel. Although the Medarda Manor is heavily guarded, Sevika takes pride in staying up to watch over Mel while she sleeps.

- If something were to happen, or if someone were to break in, at least she can be awake and be a last line of defense between Mel and any potential danger. She loves watching Mel sleep.

- Not just to ensure her safety, but also because she’s so freaking cute.

- Sevika will never tell her, and it doesn’t always happen, but Mel talks in her sleep. Murmurs really, but it’s always with the same attitude and inflection as if she were wide awake.

- Sevika loves to watch her eyebrows scrunch or her nose twitch, it’s fucking adorable.

- Sevika knows that sleep is a luxury. In Zaun, you can never get too comfortable, your reflexes have to always be on and sharp. Only someone of such a high status that could afford to be so guarded could sleep so easily, so unaware and relaxed.

- But Sevika liked it this way. She liked when Mel was relaxed, not stressing about the politics of the day or the issues of tomorrow. She liked that Mel felt comfortable enough with her to fall asleep, to dream. Even though Mel was definitely a spoiled princess, Sevika didn’t mind. Mel was her princess.

- They definitely cuddle, no matter what Sevika says.

- And Sevika is definitely the little spoon as much as Mel is.

- Like come on, Mel was on Jayce like a backpack after they banged. She loves to express her affection through physical touch, and Sevika is touch-famished. She loves the feeling of Mel’s skinny little fingers tickling and caressing all over her.

- If Mel does fall asleep on her chest, Sevika loves to reach down with her flesh hand and hook Mel’s thigh over her.

- Mel is more often than not wearing some kind of silk nightgown or négligée, most of them custom made with slits on either side to let her gold armor show through.

- Drives Sevika fucking crazy.

- She loves to kneed her flesh hand into Mel’s strong thigh when they lay like this.

- Sevika can’t fully describe the feeling she gets when she runs her hand over Mel’s armor.

- It feels almost too intimate, closer than being inside her or kissing her.

- Happy? Special? Sevika didn’t know, but it definitely made her feel good that she got to touch Mel this way; that Mel let her touch her this way, that she wanted her to.

- When Sevika does sleep, and it’s a deeper sleep, she snores like a lumberjack.

- Most times Mel finds it endearing or blocks it out, but some nights she can’t take it and Sevika wakes up with a smack upside her head or a pillow over her face.

- “Were you actually gonna smother me?” Sevika asks groggily, rubbing her eye and blinking up at Mel as she straddles her with her pillow in the air.

- “Still considering it.” Mel says as she slides off of her.

- If it becomes too much, Mel will make her a special Noxian sleepy tea, one her older brother would make her when she had nightmares as a child.

- Sevika hates it, and will only drink it if she mixes her whiskey into it.

- Mel lets her, because sleepy bed-headed Sevika holding a tiny tea cup and saucer makes Mel’s heart swoon.

-

I need them together so bad.

[gojossocks]

You’re all I want.

Pairing: Gojo x reader Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, crack at the end because Gojo copes with humor :") Content: Gojo comes home after the Shibuya accident and you try your best to ground him back to you. WC: 1.5k

Satoru steps into your shared home, suddenly feeling the fatigue weighing down on his body. Soft lighting filled the room, courtesy of the gentle glow of the lamps you excitedly asked him to buy. 

It was 2 am and he just came home from Shibuya, and after everything that has happened to him, his arms are itching to hold you. He wanted nothing more than to pull you close and let the beating of your heart lull him to sleep. 

He lets out an audible sigh of relief when he sees your figure curled up on his side of the bed, you were wearing his sweater. You turn your head to his direction when you hear the door open,  “Satoru?” you mumbled sleepily. Then just like always, you stood up to greet your husband. 

“Sweetheart,” he smiles at you, his arms instinctively wrapping around your waist.  “I bought macaroons from a newly opened cafe in Shibuya, you’d love it.” 

He still hasn’t taken off his blindfold, the fabric covering his eyes, putting a visible barrier between you and seeing your husband. He’s putting up his ‘the strongest’ persona so you gently cup his face before taking off his blindfold. “Didn’t I tell you to take off your blindfold when you’re around me?” 

He lets out a chuckle and affectionately nudges you, accompanied by a subtle teasing lilt in his voice. “Can’t hide anything from you, Y/N.”  

You take into his appearance— how certain parts of his uniform are ripped and stained with dry blood. Then you noticed his eyes, how the bright blue irises bore the weight of exhaustion and you knew immediately that this mission is unlike the usual ones. There was a profound sadness that lingered within the depths of his gaze and your heart aches at the thought of what he must have gone through the past few hours.

“I missed you.” he breathed out, the words hanging in the air like a whispered confession. He said it like the words are scarce, as if he was unsure if he really came back home.  “I thought I wasn’t gonna come home tonight. I had to. I promised I would, didn’t I?”  

A soft, almost imperceptible smile plays upon Satoru's lips, but the warmth he gives falls short of reflecting in his eyes. Your fingers instinctively find their way into his, gently squeezing his hand. You press your forehead against his, assuring him that he’s safe and you’re real. “I missed you too, Satoru.”

Satoru leans in and pulls you into a gentle and lingering kiss. and you kiss him back eagerly, ardently— so grateful for your husband keeping his promise to you. you sigh into his mouth, and he breathes you in, 

You press your forehead against his once you pull away, your fingers tracing his cheek, “Thank you for always coming home to me.”  

You are Satoru’s anchor, and you in all your strength, refuse to let him sink. 

Usually, you and Satoru have a routine after his missions. You prepare him a proper meal for dinner, knowing full well he isn’t eating anything healthy when you aren’t around to scold him. You listen to him ramble about his students or the sweets he brings home and you tell him all about your day as he munches on the food you prepared. Then after that, you take a relaxing bath together, washing away all of the remnants from his mission, physically and figuratively. Then, you find solace in each others’ arms. You let Satoru hug you all night while you gently run your fingers through his hair.  The details might shift depending on the mood but the core remains constant— Satoru’s routine wouldn’t be complete without you in it. 

Tonight, you decide to skip the meal part. It was past midnight anyway.  “Bath?” 

As you prepare for your bath, stepping into the shower, you notice the unusual quietness from Satoru. Typically, he’s constantly talking, excitedly telling you anything that comes to his mind. But today he lets himself be vulnerable around you. 

Opening the shower, you invite him in, holding Satoru’s hand as the warmth of the cascading water surrounds the both of you. You take the opportunity to shampoo your husband’s hair, your fingers gently massaging his scalp, having to be on your tiptoes to reach the top of his head. He crouches down a bit to meet you halfway, sneaking a hand to your waist. 

“What’s on your mind, ‘Toru?”  you break the silence, your fingers continuing massaging his scalp. His eyes avoid yours. 

“I just—” He hesitates before he responds, his voice breaking. “I almost got sealed because I got distracted during the fight. Nanami was severely injured and a lot of people died today. We saved a lot of them thanks to my students.  I just hope I’ll be able to protect you forever.” 

Your heart aches at his raw confessions, the gravity of what he’s endured weighs heavily on you both. You attempt to soothe his pain with all that you can,   “It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it right now. I just want to let you know I’m here.” 

You took your time lathering his body with soap, caressing with your soft fingers as they tracing patterns on his skin and he allows himself to feel the exhaustion, finding a momentary respite in the gentleness of your touch. With you, he surrendered. 

He held onto you in desperation and hugged you tighter. Then he released all of his pent-up emotions, quiet sobs filled the room and you held him through it all, feeling his tears as they mingled with the water streaming down on your shoulder. Your other hand finds tracing comforting circles on his back.

“Hey,” you grab both of his hands and entwine your fingers with his, gazing into his eyes sincerely.   “I’m right here, Satoru. We’re alive. I’m safe. You’re safe. Let me carry your burdens with you. ” 

Satoru remains silent but the way he’s holding onto you speaks volumes. You’re certain that he’s clutching onto every word that you utter.  You delicately wipe away his tears, your touch felt divine on his skin.  “We’re jujutsu sorcerers, risking our lives is what we do. That’s why every second that I’m with you matters.” you say gently, offering a small smile. 

His eyes, puffy and red, meet yours with gratitude. Then, unexpectedly, he chuckles. “Damn you for ruining my depressing moment. I was deep in my feels.”

There was your Satoru, him and his theatrics. 

Once you’ve fully brought back your energetic and joyful husband, your bath session becomes less and less productive as he wouldn’t stop lathering soap, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, on your butt. 

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Yes?”

“I’m cleaning it, baby. If anything you should thank me.” He says, feigning innocence. Although his smirk gave him away. 

“Really? Just my ass? You’re squeezing it, Satoru!” you squeal, momentarily breaking away from him only to be pulled into his arms once again. You burst into laughter and he giggles in reply, like a motherfucking child.

He exaggerates a groan and sneaks his hand to your butt cheek once more, resting his head on your shoulder.  “It’s ‘Toru to you! I’m sad and stressed, let me be. Please let me use it as a stress reliever.” He pulls away to look at your face before wiggling his eyebrows teasingly, “and aren’t you the one who suggested this shower?” 

“Because you stink” you mutter under your breath, the words barely audible.

In response, a loud smack resonates around the bathroom.

“Did you just fucking slap my ass?”  you exclaim, a mix of surprise and indignation in your voice. 

“I absolutely did not.” he declares, a mischievous grin lighting up his face.  He hugs you once more,  burying his face in the crook of your neck. In your embrace, his pain and burdens dissolve into your arms, leaving only the love you give him.  You are all that he wants, all that he can think of and he silently wishes— begs any omnipotent god to allow him to get infinite moments with you. 

He pulls away from the hug and cups your cheeks with his hands and you both stare at each other, engraving this moment into your souls, hoping there won't come a time where you’d lose one another. 

“I love you, Satoru.” you say sincerely and of course he responds to it without hesitation. “I love you more, Y/N.” 

“I love you most, then.”  you reply cheekily, grinning. 

A pout adorned his face, huffing at your statement. “That’s not fair.” He protests.

Knowing that he’s losing the fight between your silly banter. He attempts to assert his victory. “I love you mostest then!” 

“Satoru, we both know that’s incorrect grammar” you point out, playfully rolling your eyes.  “I also can’t believe I’m doing this cheesy shit with you.” 

“We have been married for a decade, sweetheart.” 

God, Satoru loves you so much.

a/n: nanami did NOT die in my mind :D hope u guys enjoyed!

wanna read more?

[cc-nadama]

Feelings, It’s Been Too Long Since I Felt

Inspired by a Mustafa Avşaroğlu song

Summary: When a series of innocent encounters with the cleaning lady led to a more intimate relationship, Viktor finds himself absolutely smitten.

Pairing: Viktor x cleaning lady!reader

Rating: Mature

Expected Content: There are no sexual acts depicted in this work. However, there is a passionate kissing scene.

Word count: 2,440

To @the-californicationist, thank you for your kind words and advice. I finally wrote something that I felt proud of sharing.

———

Even in his deepest moments of solitude, there was this undeniable feeling—a yearning that Viktor could never shake. It was this bothersome inkling, incessant in its demand and fervent in its inclination. Forever present in his lonesome existence and forever there to remind him of his growing need for companionship.

With each passing day, the notion remained. It festered like an ill-begotten wound, clawing into his flesh until it gnawed on his weary bones. Soon, his mind became a feverish haze, lost in a stream of consciousness that delved into the primal depths of his imagination.

For hours, Viktor sat. His gaze was turned towards the window, watching the silver light filter into his laboratory. His space was a mess, cluttered with various contraptions and inventions, the metal machinery glinting underneath the pearlescent glow. Somewhere, a faint yet constant hum filled the empty air, a noise that barely kept him from the brink of silence.

Within his hands was a small device, a partially constructed piece that kept his idle hands busy. Yet, despite his best efforts to keep his mind from conjuring visages of you, it was all met in vain.

For a brief moment, Viktor caught a faint whiff of your perfume—the delicate notes of lavender and vanilla flitting in the air until it swirled around him like a tender caress. Suddenly, memories of you rushed into his mind like a babbling brook. Every little detail came to him so vividly. The way you looked into his eyes with that sweet little smile. The lovely sound of your voice while you rambled on about your day. The feeling of your fingers running over his skin.

With a shuddering sigh, Viktor slumped into his chair and closed his eyes. He was fraying at the seam, practically unraveling from the mere thought of you. The moment he had gotten a taste, you became a craving for a man who never knew he was starved. You became his reckoning—the reason behind the fall of a brilliant scientist. If you were to ever disappear from his life, Viktor would be in absolute pieces. You became his everything.

It was a simple yet profound epiphany, one that dawned on him the night you slept in his arms. Your weary head was pressed against his firm chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you to sleep. His slender arms were wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him while the two of you lay on his bed.

Somehow, that night stirred something deep within him as he watched you. His gaze was tender, eyes tracing the features of your face and counting the moles and freckles along your skin. Viktor spent those blissful hours studying every little detail, committing them to memory.

“Viktor? What are you doing, it’s a quarter past midnight.”

Your voice was a delicate sound, one that complimented the peaceful stillness in his laboratory. Amidst the constant humming and thrumming, devoid of the usual clanging and thrashing, your voice was the perfect harmony that soothe his aching heart.

Within an instant, Viktor turned in his seat to meet your gaze. Even under the dim moonlight, the amber in his eyes were smoldering with emotion—something so raw and intense that it left you momentarily stunned. Before Viktor, no one had ever looked at you that way. It was as if you were the definite solution to a once insoluble equation.

For a fleeting second, nothing else mattered. Whatever words you were supposed to utter next had died on your tongue. In the absence of speech was the weight of unspoken meaning—sentiments that were never fully expressed but entirely felt. It lingered heavy in the air, begging for someone to bring it to attention.

Then, Viktor cleared his throat and looked away.

“I needed to finish some work.” He gestured to the device in his hand before placing it on his desk. He spoke in an even tone, belaying the inner turmoil stirring deep within his core. Somehow, a simple cleaning lady was turning him inside out.

Unlike his stoic delivery, what tumbled out of your trembling lips was a sheepish reply,

“Well, you should—uhm—call it a… night.” You suggested, your voice barely even an audible mumble.

You watched the corner of his lips twitch into a crooked smile, his voice sounding softer than when he last spoke. When Viktor met your gaze again, the heat behind his eyes softened—replaced with a promising warmth that made your stomach flutter.

“I suppose I could use the rest.”

Viktor made a small hum before he lifted himself from his chair. His movements were careful, using his cane to support his crippled leg. Even with the subtle hobble in his step, his stride remained purposeful. There was nothing that could stop him from walking towards you. Viktor was always determined to cross the distance, especially when it meant he could be with you in the end.

Soon, the two of you were walking down the hallway side by side. It was a long journey from his laboratory to the dormitory, navigating through several intersections and winding corridors. But, whenever Viktor had you with him, it made the ache in his leg a little more bearable.

You listened to the sound of your footsteps padding against the marble floor, noticing how the tip of his cane would make a soft clack at the same moment. It was an easy melody, one that filled the comfortable silence.

“How have you been?” Viktor finally spoke. His heart was racing—building a thundering rhythm he was sure you could hear.

It was an innocent question. One that either of you would ask on any given occasion. Viktor knew about the misgivings of your work, having witnessed some of it firsthand. Yet, he always loved to hear your recounts—rather, he loved to hear your voice when you did so.

“The usual.” You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, noticing the small smile that curved his lips. It was almost unusual to see him like this—content and at peace. Viktor was a man of relentless ambition. Yet, whenever you were with him, Viktor seemed to forget about his work. Instead, all he could focus on was you. You were what mattered most in that moment.

“The councilors had a gathering earlier. Had to clean after them…” You continued, relaying the events of your day while knowing how trivial it was to a distinguished scientist like him. Yet, unbeknownst to you, Viktor needed to hear something mundane. His mind was like a loom—constantly weaving equations and theorems. He needed to hear something unrelated to his work, something monotonous and ordinary.

“I missed you.” You remarked suddenly.

Within an instant, Viktor snapped his head to the side. He looked surprised, not expecting you to say something so bold. His lips were opening and closing, searching for the right words to say.

“I… I missed you too.” He mumbled a reply. But, beneath the twilight, you saw how his eyes gleamed with sincerity.

Then, the both of you stopped.

“How have you been, Viktor?” It was your turn to ask, and when you did, you saw how his lips curved into another smile.

“Restless—until you came.” It was an honest answer. Because throughout the day, his mind was nearing the brink of hysteria. You were driving him practically insane.

Then, the two of you continued to walk, rounding the corner to where his dormitory was.

It was only when you stood in front of his door did you meet his gaze again, noticing something swimming beneath the amber of his eyes. It was almost indiscernible—yet, it made your core blossom with warmth.

“Would you like some tea?” Viktor inquired as he opened the door, gesturing for you to enter.

“That would be lovely.” You smiled in reply before stepping inside.

A few of the curtains were still drawn from this morning, offering a faint pearlescent glow to an otherwise unlit apartment. He followed you from behind, closing the door until it made a click. Then, he made his way into the small kitchen, pulling the kettle from the shelves so he could boil some water.

Whenever the two of you had your little meetings, it always began with a good cup of tea. It became a tradition—something that Viktor looked forward too.

You ventured deeper into his room and took a deep breath, smelling something familiar. It was his scent—woody, musty, and with a delicate note of vanilla. It reminded you of an old book, where the pages were browning and the ink was fading.

His room reflected his simplicity, keeping to the basic necessities while staying true to his academic pursuits. You walked over to the side of his bed, your hand tracing over the grains of his wooden bookshelf. It displayed a few of his favorite collections, with titles written in his native tongue while others pertained to the sciences.

You undid the front buttons of your jacket, folding it over the backrest of his chair.

Meanwhile, Viktor watched you from the kitchen, his eyes following your gentle movements. While the kettle remained on the stovetop, boiling on low heat, he walked over to you.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, the sound of his cane mingling with the soft patter of his footsteps. Then, it came to a stop just a few paces behind you.

When you turned around, you saw his slender fingers undoing his necktie and the first few buttons of his dress shirt. He gave you a knowing smile before glancing over to the bed.

“I could say the same about you.” You replied, the corners of your lips twitching into a cheeky grin. Even under the dim light, you could see the playful gleam in his eyes.

So, you kicked off your shoes and jumped into bed. Viktor couldn’t help but chuckle at your eagerness, removing his loafers before he settling in beside you.

You lay your head on his chest, a finger tracing a gentle pattern over his skin. His nose was buried in your hair, an arm wrapped around your waist. Viktor pulled you closer to him until your bodies met, pressed impossibly close. Underneath the layers of clothing, you could feel his warmth seeping into your skin, stoking a fire deep within your core.

“I’ve been thinking about you. A lot.” Viktor whispered, his lips grazing your forehead.

You tilted your head back, wanting to meet his gaze. You could see something simmering beneath the amber of his eyes—something so intense. His desire for you was humming deep within his bones, his fingers twitching as it yearned to touch you.

Slowly, you leaned in, closing the space between you by millimeters a second. Then, your lips brushed against his chapped ones, soft and testing, wanting to see whether he would pull away. When he didn’t, you fell deeper into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck to keep him close. The kiss deepened and you could feel the coolness of his fingers against your flushed cheek, hands moving to cup your face.

Viktor hummed in response, his eyes fluttering close as he melted into the kiss. Your head was spinning from the excitement, your heart pounding in your ears. It sent you into a blur of pure want, desperate to feel more of him. Your lips were moving in tandem with his, suddenly feeling something warm prod against your bottom lip. You made a quiet and pitchy sound, almost like a suppressed whine of surprise,

“Mm!”

Viktor hummed and continued his exploration, slipping into your mouth. You could feel his tongue gently moving inside, stirring something deep within your core that made you blush. It was becoming too much for you to handle, your head now dizzy from the sudden rush.

Your breathing became ragged, out of tune with your usual cadence. It was frantic and without pace, sucking in breaths whenever you could. It was only when Viktor broke the kiss did the both of you breathed again, panting heavily like a pair of dogs. Underneath the pale light, you could see his swollen lips glisten and parted while he took in a series of quick and sharp breaths.

“You make me feel things… I never thought possible.” Viktor muttered, his hands still cupping your face. His thumb was brushing your cheekbone, his touch light and tender.

There were no words to describe the feelings you had for him. It was profound, with no words or adjectives to do it justice.

“Viktor…” You whispered his name like it was a prayer, so soft yet reverent. Your voice was shaking, still trying to recover from the last kiss.

Without sparing another moment, his lips crashed into yours. He pulled you even closer, desperate to feel your body pressed against his while he poured his everything into one earth-shattering kiss.

In that moment, nothing else mattered—only you.

His blood was running hot with excitement, his heart blaring in his ears. Viktor felt like he was going insane. All the yearning, all the wanting, has now culminated into one fervent kiss—it was chaotic, overwhelming, like a maelstrom of emotions.

You were sinking into his kiss, completely and utterly ruined from the unrestrained passion he unleashed. You never expected to feel something so fierce from a man like Viktor. He was always controlled and immune to his impulses. Yet, when it came to you, he felt like a crazed man without reservations.

“Miláčku…” He muttered into the kiss, his voice strained and breathless.

You could hear something whistling, something sharp piercing into the quiet night. It took you longer than a minute to realize what it was, not exactly caring for whatever else was happening in the moment—except for Viktor.

Unlike you, the man heard nothing. His frantic movements remained that, fervent in his desire and consumed in the kiss. You muttered something incoherent, trying to catch his attention,

“Viktor… the kettle.”

He only hummed in response, not even stopping to hear you better,

“Viktor… kettle.” You mumbled again, a little louder this time.

His movements stuttered, as if he was beginning to realize that the kettle was indeed piping in the kitchen.

“Let it be.” He replied, his voice scratching deep in his throat. Before he could resume the kiss, you interjected with a more scolding tone,

“Viktor… we have neighbors…”

With a loud and reluctant sigh, Viktor conceded. He pulled away and gathered himself to stand.

“Fine.”

———

[profoundmidnightthoughts]

It is raining outside and I am once again shocked by the fact that God loves me and hears me despite everything.

[connorsui]

“Earth and pine, breath and heart” || Halsin ||

Synopsis: Amidst the quiet nature of the forest, Halsin finds a new kind of peace in your shared intimacy, realizing that you are the missing piece he's been searching for beyond the balance of the wilds.

Genre/warnings: fluff, a tad bit of slow burn, itty bitty soft moments, quiet intimacy, emotional vulnerability, halsin lowkey loving you …no warnings tho …halsin ain't about that angst

Note: halsin has been on my radar for like awhile …I needed to make a fic out of my bear man

w.c: 1.1K

The warmth of Halsin’s breath whispered across your skin, delicate yet undeniable, carrying with it not just the scent of pine and earth but the very essence of the forest itself. His presence was vast, ancient, yet it didn’t overwhelm—you felt steadied, as though in his nearness you had discovered a sanctuary amidst the wilderness of life. The air between you hummed, alive with unspoken thoughts, the silence more profound than any words.

Neither of you dared break that silence, a fragile thread woven from the crackling of the fire and the rhythmic night sounds. Halsin’s eyes, deep and unyielding like the forest at midnight, flickered in the firelight. His gaze held no urgency, no demand—only a patient curiosity, like the pull of the moon on the ocean, inexorable yet gentle.

“You are different,” he said at last, his voice a low rumble, steady as the roots of an ancient tree. It felt as though he were speaking from some place beyond this moment, reaching for something timeless.

A soft smile ghosted across your lips, but you could not hold back the curiosity his words stirred within you. “In what way do you see me, exactly?”

His brow furrowed slightly, a crease forming between his eyes as though he were contemplating something larger than either of you. “In you,” he said slowly, his voice hushed with reverence, “I see a reflection of home. Not the wild, untamed places I’ve known, but a kind of stillness. A peace that settles, like the calm after a storm. You carry it with you, though you may not realize it.”

His words took root within you, warmth blooming in your chest like the first light of dawn. His hand, rough from years spent in the wilds, was surprisingly tender as he turned his palm upwards, meeting your fingers with a gentleness that felt like a promise, unspoken but deeply understood.

"The wilds will always be part of me," he murmured, more to himself than to you, his gaze distant for a moment, as though searching the horizon for something he had long lost. "But lately... I’ve begun to wonder if there’s more. If balance, in all its beauty, is enough." His eyes found yours again, and in them, you saw not the fierce protector of nature, but the man—uncertain, searching, longing. "Now, I find myself drawn to you, as if you’re the part of me I didn’t know I was missing."

There was a weight to his words, a quiet intensity that made your breath catch. The world seemed to still, the sounds of the forest fading until all that remained was the rhythm of your heartbeat and the warmth of his hand in yours. In the space between words, something passed between you—a recognition, a quiet understanding of something neither of you had named, yet both had felt growing, quietly and inevitably.

You smiled softly, a flush rising in your cheeks as your thumb traced slow circles across his palm. It was such a simple thing, this touch, yet it felt like so much more—a bridge between you, a silent affirmation of the connection that had taken root.

What you hadn’t realized, or perhaps had only begun to understand, was that Halsin was as captivated by you as the forest was by the rain. His gaze lingered on the curve of your lips, the way your hair caught the firelight, making the ordinary seem luminous. You spoke, and he listened—not just to your words, but to the melody of your voice, filling the spaces between the trees and reverberating in places within him that had long been silent.

Without thinking, your knee brushed against his, and you didn’t pull away. In that touch, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty. There was only the quiet thrum of connection, as natural and inevitable as the turning of seasons.

Halsin’s breath caught, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. His eyes, dark and fathomless, never left yours, and yet within them, you saw something tender, something vulnerable. Gently, almost hesitantly, he lifted your hand, his thumb grazing the soft skin of your fingers before tilting your chin upward, guiding your gaze to meet his.

Even sitting, he seemed to tower over you, a force of nature contained within a man. Yet, there was no dominance in his gesture, no need to assert power—only a quiet tenderness, as though he had found something precious in you and could not look away.

His thumb brushed your lower lip, so soft it might have been a dream, and in that instant, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in a moment both infinite and impossibly fragile.

The air between you hummed with unspoken possibility, and then, as though drawn by something greater than either of you, he leaned in. His lips met yours in a slow, deliberate kiss—a gentle, careful press that felt like the first touch of spring after a long winter. It was tender, yet full of promise—a beginning, not an ending.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet space between words. His eyes, so often distant and watchful, were soft now, vulnerable in a way that took your breath away.

"You are my peace," he whispered, the words a quiet confession, a truth that had long taken root and was only now finding the light.

The silence that followed was full, rich with meaning, like the stillness before dawn. And as you looked into his eyes, you understood that this was no fleeting moment. It was a seed, planted in the fertile ground of shared breath and whispered words, and it would grow—quietly, steadily—into something deeper, something that would stand the test of time.

Halsin’s thumb brushed your lip once more, lingering, as though he could not bear to let go just yet. "The peace I’ve sought for so long," he said, his voice faltering slightly, "it’s not in the wilds alone... I see it here, in you."

Under the watchful stars, you came to understand that peace was not a destination, but something carried within—growing in the quiet spaces between heartbeats, in the brush of a hand, in the unspoken certainty of a love that needed no words to be felt.

Halsin, with his unshakable connection to the untamed wilds, had found a new home—in you.

I want another kiss like a selfish woman that I am

[serawritesthings]

AS FAR AS DREAMS GO

Pairing | Arthur Morgan x fem! reader Summary | While Arthur found sanction in his dreams, you would fret about them every night. While he longed for the sweet caress of your hands, you were unknowing, fooled by his stoic facade as your dreams only brought you nightmares. Tags |  Angsty, Arthur Morgan pining for the reader, hinting at smut, intimacy, two idiots clearly in love, some sadness ensues Word Count | 10.3k A/N | Hello, lovelies! It's my second-ever fanfic; I hope you like it! Also, I got carried away, so it’s quite long (sorry)… It's loosely based on the mission with Uncle when you rob a wagon, but I have my spin on it. It’ll work more with the story this way. If you want, it can fit in with my recent fanfic about Arthur, but maybe set earlier in their “relationship.” ;D THANKS FOR READING!♡ Part two

Arthur felt you in his sleep last night. 

He remembered the caress of your fingers on his icy skin, leaving scorching traces of blazing fire in its wake as your hearts collided and molded into his deepest longing. Like a strange mirror, it portrayed you as you always were: tender and loving, fiery but forgiving. But it wasn’t you; instead, it was a thought of you. Like when walking down the street and catching a glance of a person that seemed familiar, but with another look, was someone else entirely. Only in his dream-filled sleep could he allow himself the sweet torture of your presence, for in those moments, he didn’t have to think of the consequences his thoughts would bring. His dreams of you overtook his mind, whether he was willing or not. For in his mind, you had carved a path so profound that it would be etched into his senses until his last breath, clouding his sanity, never again being able to differentiate dreams from reality.

Oh, how you held him in your embrace. It made him long for the sun to disappear under the horizon once more when the warm springs of light found him in the chilly dawn. He could still feel traces of your touch in the short period between sleep and consciousness. For a brief moment, it made him question whether it was a dream or if his deepest desire had come true. You were his.

But he would wake up and find that the warmth he held in his hands had dissipated, like hot ash falling between his fingers, making Arthur attempt to dig up what remained of you from the ground. He was left aching with no relief, cold and shuddering in the chilly morning, standing over the remains of your ghost. It was like his heart had been burned with it, only coming alive once more when you returned to him at midnight.

But for you, dreams had trouble finding you at night, if they even found you at all. You could never escape reality to find sanction in the warm blanket of imagination. When dreams did reach you, memories replaced fantasy and washed over like cold, freezing water. You would fret and worry, tossing around wishing you could melt into the sheets and float to where you could become someone else. There was a time when the dreams would bring you solace, whether it was a conjecture of old memories or what your younger self would conjure up. But that was a long time ago, and you find that the older you get, those dreams drift further away. So, you had nowhere to escape, nothing to ease the hardship that daytime brought. So, sleeping is just a blink of an eye nowadays to make the night pass faster.

After a sleepless night, you sat by a tree overlooking the vast landscape. It’s quiet between the trees this morning. It brought a sense of calm to the otherwise quite hectic place. Although chilly, the wind carried a frisk waft, clearing your head. You enjoyed these mornings and often found yourself awake before the others. It’s a habit you picked up through the years, though a younger you would complain about having to rise that early in the morning. It felt like the world was entirely your own. It is even calmer in times like this, where the residents consist mainly of women when the men are out. It brought a sense of comfort to you, for they were the ones that had been kind and welcoming to you. Unfortunately, your time alone didn’t last long, for you have learned that people rose relatively early here. But the time you did get for yourself gave you a chance to ponder the time that had passed up until now.

Sean, a peculiar man, had recently been brought back from being held captive by bounty hunters soon to be transported up the Upper Montana River to a federal prison. You had immensely worried for him, finding his presence over the last few months to lighten your sometimes rather gloomy mood with his ridiculous shenanigans. Some had been unsure if going back for him posed as a good idea, but the thought of leaving him behind saddened you and many others. Somehow, you had managed to convince Arthur to lend a hand, with considerable help from Javier You knew Arthur cared for Sean, even though he’d probably rather die before admitting it.

When you first got wrapped up with these people, you admit that Arthur scared the living daylight out of you. There was a certain air around him that exuded strength and authority, never stopping short of resorting to violence. You were no stranger to what kind of man he was, what they were; neither were you of their business, but you were apprehensive of them more often than not. The womenfolk had told you countless times that Arthur could be immensely ruthless when needed and had done things that would leave your blood running cold. And you didn’t doubt them. Behind those calculating eyes and quiet demeanor lay a long life of violence and hardship. You were sure of it.

That’s why you felt stuck when it came to him. Despite all this, he was a kind man. However, he didn’t speak much when it concerned you. More so, he worked hard, and you rarely spotted him in camp. Freezing your guts out in those mountains was the longest time you had seen his face consistently. You couldn’t do more than respect him, and although apprehensive around him, you had found yourself doing it less because of his dangerous aura and more because he made chills run down your back and a warmth spread in your stomach like wildfire when he set his eyes on you. It wasn’t a fire that spread fast, destroying everything in its path and bringing misery. Instead, a fire dispersed like slow poison, mingling with your blood as it flowed through your body, claiming you bit by bit until you surrendered to its ever-so-prolonged heat.

“I heard you begged for the boys to come get me!” Time had flown by quickly, and soon, you heard the clanking of pots and the sound of steel against the wood. Sean had suddenly spoke up as he neared you, his Irish accent lacing his words heavily. Although you had missed him and didn’t want to leave him to an insufferable fate, you hadn’t forgotten his teasing. He knew very well he was exaggerating, but he wouldn’t let go of the chance to bury you in his flamboyant personality.

“That’s quite the exaggeration, Sean.” A small smile spread on your lips. “Don’t make me regret standing in favor of your return.” A snort left the red-headed man at your words. Pursing your lips, you put your gaze on him as he stood beside your seated form with his arms crossed, gazing out onto the open landscape of Horseshoe Overlook.

“Ah, how I missed ya big words and harmless threats.” You could hear a few snickers at his statement from the people gathering around the campfire. A blush covered your cheeks. You had a reputation for sounding smart sometimes, and people did not stop at anything to tease you, especially the man in front of you.

 “Did ya miss me?” A cheeky grin grew on his punchable face as he raised his eyebrows, expectantly leaning closer to you.

A scoff left your lips, but you didn’t have time to answer him as the sound of hooves drew near. A certain dread always filled you at the sound. Even though you knew it most likely was someone returning to camp, you could never be too sure what state they would be in. You often worked alongside Ms. Grimshaw to help when someone got hurt, having extensive knowledge of tending to wounds and other bodily harm. It worried you, for the possibility of not being able to help someone would someday appear. Like that poor man, Davey. Luckily, you had managed to take care of Marston well enough. But he did look awful these days with that scar adorning his face; there was no denying that.

You and Sean looked up as the horses raced through the path among the trees that led to your whereabouts. You could see Dutch among them, with Arthur and Hosea. Scowls were apparent on their faces as their loud voices broke the solitude in the air, seeming to argue viciously about something.

“What’s that about?” You questioned the man beside you. “God knows, but I’d stay outta it if I were you.” He gave you a knowing look and slouched away to bother someone else. Your curiosity was piqued, but you let it be for now, raising to help Mary-Beth wash some foul shirts she was struggling with—damned Reverend.

The day continued, mindless chatter filling the space between you and the girls as you worked under Ms. Grimshaw’s sharp, watchful eyes. She had been in a terrible mood today, so her reign was relentless.  

“Do you think she would be mad if we threw the clothes from the cliff edge?” A grumpy Tilly spoke up, her hands relentless as she scrubbed the fabric that never seemed to get cleaner. Sadly, it only became filthier the more she worked on it. Karen laughed as she raised her eyebrows, a mocking expression on her face. “Oh no, that won’t do for great Ms. Grimshaw. She would probably throw you right along with it.” Their laughter cut through the air, contagious as you smiled at their exchange, glancing up to see if Ms. Grimshaw had her eyes on you. But instead, your eyes found a pair of blue ones staring at you when you looked up—the brief moment left you unsure where to put your gaze after the contact broke. 

You cleared your throat as you spoke quietly. “Grimshaw means well.” They groaned at you, rolling their eyes. “Sure, Miss Righteous.” They laughed again as you joined them. Before you could hinder yourself, your eyes gazed up at Arthur again, finding him staring at you again; a particular fervency lay deep within them. However, he directed his eyes away from you hastily, like you caught him doing something he shouldn’t have. Seemingly tense, the man grabs a match from his pocket, lighting its phosphorus tip from his booth’s worn leather soles. When he took a drag, he peeked at you again, his head bowed, hiding under his worn hat. 

Dutch and Hosea were in a heated discussion, with Arthur listening in languidly. It probably related to what had transpired before they returned to camp. Although more collected now, there was still a tension in the air. By your observations, they were the “three main men” around here. They had been holding together most of their lives, naturally giving them authority over the gang. When they talked, you listened. Simple as that.

You touched your face discreetly, wondering if you had gotten soot from tending the fire on your cheeks again. What else could be the reason for Arthur’s stare? How embarrassing that would be. He made you somewhat uncertain already; you couldn’t possibly handle his mocking adding to that.

“I wonder what they’re talking about?” The question you asked left the girls perking their heads up and gazing at you before following your gaze, looking at the men arguing. “Yeah, it seems pretty serious,” Mary-Beth said, curious about their exchange. They had been going at it for quite a while now as evening drew closer. You observed them with intrigue. That’s when Hosea’s eyes planted on you, beckoning you over with his finger. He looked cunning as he settled leisurely in his chair, content. You gazed questingly at the girls as they shrugged their shoulders, looking as confused as you.

Dusting off your skirt, you rose from the small barrel you used as a makeshift chair and approached the men. You gave them an unsure smile, still confused, wondering what they could want to bring you into their apparent disagreement. 

“Well, we have a perfect actress with us, gentlemen. I’m sure she could charm our seemingly formidable friends.” Hosea patted your arms as your feet shifted under you when he spoke up. What could they possibly be talking about? Dutch was gazing at you indescribably as Arthur stared at the table. His arms crossed, not meeting your gaze.

“Well, her damsel in distress act has saved us before.” A low chuckle left Dutch as he drummed his fingers on the wooden table.

“May I ask what you’re talking about?” As the question left you, you could see Arthur raise his head to watch you. His expression was blank, but his eyes seemed sullen, the smoke from his cigarette filling the air as he took a drag. 

“Uncle’s received a tip of a supply wagon passing through carrying a payroll, lookin’ to be unguarded. They want you to help us.” His voice was quiet as he observed you, his accent thick. You had helped them on some jobs before, although only smaller ones since you weren’t as acquainted with the work as the others. You mainly had accompanied Hosea on his schemes, finding that both of you had quite the same proficiency in depicting a role. Although you had taken up some theatrics when you were a small child, you had never imagined you would use them to deceive people. You found Hosea to be a spiritful figure despite his age. When thinking about it, he reminded you immensely of your father. He was too stubborn to let himself grow old, and his spark for living and refusal to take on the habits of an older man made him seem immortal to you. But he wasn’t, which became evident to you the older you had gotten.

“Of course, if I can be of help.” You offered them a small smile, surprised they decided on you, not someone else. It didn’t seem scary for you; you would, of course, be accompanied. And they knew what they were doing, which had become apparent to you since they always managed to get out of trouble. Compared to some of the things they did, stealing from a wagon seemed mild. And with Arthur accompanying, you knew you would feel completely safe.

“S’not a good idea.” The words that left Arthur made you furrow your brows. What could be the reason for his doubt? Some parts of you understood that you might not be as proficient as the other women, but as you mentioned, playing the damsel in distress was right up your alley. And you already felt as if you were a burden around here.

He avoided your offended look as he continued, pointing his finger at Hosea. “I ain’t lettin’ h-anyone get hurt just cause Uncle got told a tip from some sad, half-witted lowlife! Now, I ain’t against looking up the lead, but we handle it without the theatrics an’ all, Hosea.” 

You were about to speak up, but Dutch did before you could. “It would give you the advantage to have someone stop the wagon; that way, you have the man unguarded and on the ground.” He gave you a look-over. You leaned slightly away from his calculating gaze, his squinting eyes examining you.

 “Yeah, that’ll do; let Uncle prove his worth this time. Bring Bill and Charles with ya.” With that said, he stood up from his chair and nodded at you with a beaming grin, and sauntered off. Wonder what Molly saw in him. Often, you found him to lean towards arrogancy, the way he let everyone else do his dirty work. But they all seemed to listen to him, which meant what he did gave some positive outcome. 

“Trust me, Arthur, she’ll do good. And she might make up for your dumbness.” As Hosea’s chuckling figure slowly disappeared, you gazed curiously at Arthur, who was scoffing, staring after the man. 

“I know how to handle myself, Arthur. And I know you know that too.”

“Sure.” He dragged out the word, voice mirroring his now grumpy mood.

“So?” You raised your eyebrows. He gave you a questioning look. “What’s the matter?” You asked. 

He let out a long breath. “It ain’t safe. A random tip could be risky. It probably means someone else heard ’bout it, too, if the man was willing to give up the information. Likewise, it could be a setup. We don’t know, do we?” You leaned on the table before him, placing your hand to stead his bouncing knee. You knew what he meant. But every mission was risky, especially these days when you had law coming at you from what appeared to be every direction. Despite this, you had to do it to survive, and you wanted to show them you were capable.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to find out.” Your voice was mild, an undertone of understanding lacing your words. Even if it were Uncle’s idea, it would fall on Arthur either way if things went wrong, as it always did. And you knew he cared, even though he never showed it. Or think he didn’t show it.

He was about to speak, but a loud voice broke through your conversation. “Gotten over me that fast, has she? Already moving on to the gang’s grouch? I’m hurt. Here I walked around thinkin’ you missed me!” You gave Arthur a last look, squeezing his knee to gaze at Sean as he dramatically held his hands to his heart. Laughing at his antics, you stood up. “I’m not sure anyone missed you when you were gone, right Arthur?” You strolled off with the Irish man following you, not noticing the wistful, prolonged stare the blue-eyed man had set on you since you touched his knee with your delicate hand, the feeling of your skin leaving a fire trail he couldn’t douse.

-

“That’s it, Ada.” The grey coat of the Andulasian was silky under your palm as you graced her sun-warmed coat, giving her a carrot you stole from Pearson’s wagon as you distracted him with your mindless chatter the following evening. Her ears perked up at your soft voice, munching. She nickered contentedly as her mane blew under the frisk breeze that wafted around you.

“You know, you should’ve settled for a faster horse instead of an Andalusian. She’ll slow you down.” A gruff voice broke out in the otherwise calm spot as the sound of spurs clanking was accompanied by heavy footsteps. You looked up at the man, noting how he leaned lazily against the empty hitching post and put his hands on his belt. It surprised you, it did. He didn’t usually instigate a conversation with you.

“She’s fast enough, my Ada. And she’s family now, so.” You voiced your thoughts softly, hearing his statement from many others when Arthur, Dutch, and Micha returned to the desolated mining town with two horses and a crying Sadie up in Colter. The horse piqued your interest when you set your eyes on her, and Arthur kindly let you keep her for the time being, planning on selling her when they got the chance. Your disagreement was apparent, and not putting up much of a fight; he let you keep her. Hosea, too, opposed it when he saw the mare, but your stubbornness made him laugh. I’ll let you figure it out on your own then, he had told you.

“Well, at least we’ll know you’re safe if you get attacked by a snake.” A low chuckle left Arthur, still finding you’re choice of a companion foolish. 

“Oh, are you making jokes now?” You looked at him as he straightened and strode towards you. “Cause if you are, it’s not very funny.” You backed away slightly, not used to him being so close. He put his gloved hand on Ada’s soft coat and patted her softly. A waft of smoke reached your nose as he stood next to you, coupled with the smell of a man who did hard labor. But amidst that, there was something else, something warmer and manlier. “Well, she’s real pretty, that’s for sure.” His gaze went down to you before he directed his gaze, fastening the tie strap you didn’t secure well enough.

You rarely saw Arthur with his hat off, his hair usually peaking out from under the well-worn leather. But he didn’t wear it this morning, and you wondered why. It blew softly in the wind, a slight beard adorning his face. It fit him well, adding to his roguish appearance. He was pretty handsome.

You didn’t realize you were observing him as he focused on your not-so-good job putting on the saddle. He didn’t seem as on edge as usual, the constant frown gone and replaced with a serene expression. Arthur didn’t look as frightening this way when he was relaxed, although his advantage in height and bulky form made up for it. 

“Be careful today, yeah?” He gave you a curt nod when you replied that you would, walking over to his horse. You saw Charles walking in your direction, greeting you with a smile when he got close. 

“We should head off as soon as possible; I’m worried we might miss the wagon.” His voice was calm, as it tended to be often. Sometimes, it felt like Charles was a shadow as he kept quiet, primarily to himself. He rarely got into trouble and handled things with a clear mind. You could but only like him, finding his solitude comforting and much like your own. 

When Bill and Uncle appeared, you hoisted yourself into the saddle, giving Ada a soft pat before setting her in motion. Uncle had told you it was just up the road from camp, near the crossroads where an old, ruined church remained. “You ride first and hitch up the horse in the trees behind the church. We will stop near the crossroads to look for the wagon passing through as you get them to stop and get down on the ground.” Arthur said calmly, pointedly looking at you. 

As you rode off, Arthur stared after you as you disappeared between the trees. The worry had settled in his stomach when Hosea brought up the idea for you to tag along. He wasn’t opposed to you doing your share in the gang, but bringing you on such a spontaneous mission made him uneasy.

“She’ll be fine, Arthur, and we’ll have our eyes on her the whole time.” Charles’s hushed voice dragged him out of his thoughts as he secured his gun on the saddle. Even though Charles seemed calm, a slight worry still tainted his words. 

“Yeah, I know. It’s just…” 

“I understand.” They sat in their saddles, heading out after Uncle’s lead. 

“You know, after this, you will realize how much I do for this gang. Looking up this lead has not been an easy feat, gentlemen.” He looked proud in his seat, bringing his hands up like he already had secured the money. “Sure, Uncle, drinking and talking to some bum who just might be lying to you is exactly what this gang needs right now.” Uncle just scoffed at Arthur. 

“You know, you should be nicer to me, Arthur, and you will be after you realize this will bring us a well-deserved fortune.”

“Yeah? And what are you going to spend it on? More booze?”

-

The church where you said goodbye to Ada was no short of run-down. Missing planks, bottles with an unnamed liquid inside, and cigarettes everywhere made you wonder what kind of people sought shelter here. You didn’t have trouble finding it because it wasn’t too far from camp like you were told. Trying not to think about leaving Ada in such an environment, you wandered towards the road you were told they would pass through. 

‘

You hid behind a tree, shielding you from anyone coming down the path. You hoped Uncle was correct; otherwise, things could go south fast. No stranger would let a hurt woman linger on the road; likewise, they wouldn’t let her stumble to the seat with a hurt leg, meaning you would get the driver on the ground. Simple but effective. You only hoped Uncle had been correct, that this would be easy. 

Taking Karen’s advice to loosen a few buttons on your shirt, you revealed some of your cleavage. Make him more willing, quoting her words. The skin now exposed glows in the sunlight from the light layer of sweat coating your skin from the heat. You smile to yourself. This’ll do just fine. You run your hands on the ground to dirty up your skirt like you had been crawling in the dirt. You didn’t want to think about how hard it would be to get it out of the fabric since you likely had to clean it.

Peaking up from the tree, you could spot Arthur, Uncle, Bill, and Charles from a distance, gazing upon your spot as masks adorned their faces. Who were they trying to fool? They looked ominous where they sat on their horses. God, if the driver got the slightest look at them, he would run the other way, and the operation would be over. You felt your hands grow clammy at the suspense as your shoulders tensed, sitting on the ground as you leaned against the tree. 

You took your face in your hands, massaging your temple. “Okay, wagon approaches; I frantically run out from the woods, screaming at the driver to help. He stops and steps down on the ground to ask me what’s going on, hopefully worried. I tell him I’m getting chased by a maniac, and the others will handle the rest.” You breathed out as your heart beat wildly, voicing your plan aloud. “Easy peasy, right?”

That’s when you heard it, the crunch of the wheels rolling in the ground in the distance growing louder. Taking a deep breath, you ruffled your hair slightly and leaped out from the tree, running towards the road like satan himself was after you.

“Mister, please!” Your voice shrieked out, startling the man. With an exasperated expression, you stumbled down after tripping on your skirt, getting dirtier from the mud covering the path. Holding your hand on your leg, you gazed up at the men above you who looked at you alarmed. His face was adorned with small eyes and wrinkles that depicted his old age as he had to squint to see you. It made you question why such an old man drove a fortune alone but pushed the thoughts away. “You have to help me!”

“Miss, what’s happened to ya?” Immediately, he slowed the horses, stepping down from the wagon to inspect the predicament before him. He looked friendly, just like his tone was kind, and worry filled his eyes as he jogged towards you. Kind, but foolish.

“Some men trailed me, oh some god-awful men trailed me, and when I cut through the woods with my horse, she freaked out and bucked me off!” Panic settled in your voice as you looked pleadingly at the man holding your shoulder. “Please, mister, my leg hurts awfully bad; I think it’s broken.” Tears filled your voice, choking up the words leaving your mouth. His hands found your shoulders as he kneeled. “Come here, Miss. We’ll get you home, yeah?” You nodded at him with pleading eyes.

The air around you was calm, and the wind blew softly, contrasting your shrill voice in the early morning as he helped you stand up. With your weight on his shoulders, he didn’t even have the time to turn around before the cold metal of a pistol met the back of his head.

The pistol cocked. Frozen beside you, the hands supporting you grew still as the blood on his face drained, eyes staring into yours like he could see Arthur behind him in the reflection of your eyes.

“Let’s not do that. Why don’t you step away from the woman and throw your gun on the ground?” Arthur’s cold but calm demeanor frightened even you, looking different from the man you were used to. “Real slow now.” His eyes found yours, staring from under his hat as he spoke. A chill went down your spine, now understanding why he had a reputation for coming off as frightening. Behind him, Charles was rummaging through the wagon as Uncle and Bill stood behind him on their horses, acting as lookouts as their rifles were pointed at the man beside you. 

“Listen, I work for Kerosene and Tar, Leviticus Cornwall, alright?” His voice was shaking, but he still tried to scare the men. Bold. You could hear Bill curse in the distance, the name familiar to them. Judging from their reaction, it wasn’t good news, and the anxiety rose in you like wildfire again as you tried to get away from the man holding you, his presence now suffocating.

“Hey, step away from her old man.” Arthurs’s voice grew firmer as the words rumbled in his chest, pushing the gun tighter against his temple when the man grabbed your shoulders harder. When you turned your head towards the elderly man, he looked as frightened as you, shocked by how the situation had transpired.

“Hey, Arthur, I got the money!” Charle’s satisfied voice made you both look up, but as you did, the sight of horses charging towards you in the distance made your eyes widen. Your breath stuck in your throat at the picture, your pulse rising as you struggled to control your quivering palms.

“Aw, shit. Uncle!” Arthurs voiced his annoyance at the downturn of the situation as he hit the elderly man with his gun, his body falling limp beside you as he held his head in his hands. Shocked, you looked at his squirming body as he writhed on the ground. Before you could shake away the shock that nailed your feet shut, you felt a pair of arms shake your petrified form.

“Get your head straight girl!” Amidst the loud sound of hooves filling your ears from every direction, Arthur shouted at you as he grabbed the horn on the saddle and hopped onto his horse. Sitting tall, he placed his arms under yours so he could lift you. Now seated before him, the sudden motion made your head spin as the world around you stayed a constant blur.

“Bill! We’ll split up, make it harder for them to track us. You go with Charles and Uncle to the left, and we’ll go straight! Stay out of camp for awhile!” His shouting brought you back to reality, the sound of bullets heading towards you growing louder the clearer your head got. Bill shouted in agreement as he cursed loudly and took off hastily, rifle in his hands as the three escaped the scene. Making a clicking noise, Arthur urged the horse to move, the force pushing your body forward from the sudden speed. The severity of the situation dawned on you when you glanced back at the riders following you. Your heart beat heavily against your chest; the number of men chasing after you could only be likened to a whole army. 

“There’s so many!” The wind wisped your hair around you as you flew through the country. You glanced back at Arthur. “Yeah, I know! But I think the others got the worst of it!” His statement did nothing to calm your racing nerves as bullets rushed past you. Boadicea’s muscles moved fervently under you as Arthur spurred her on. Fast didn’t seem like fast enough. The pace painted the world blurry as you 

rode on for a long time, the skies beginning to turn dark.

After a long while following the road, Arthur steered off it and up a hill into a tightly grown forest. “I think we’re losing them!” Your voice flew in the air as the wind in your ears whistled when you looked back. Almost stumbling on a rock, you both flew forward as Arthur’s heavy weight fell on you momentarily. A choked sound left your throat as the air left you, and you heard him curse out a sorry behind you. Recovering quickly, Boadicea picked up the pace once again as you gazed behind you, trying to see if they had gained on you.

Why in the world were there so many? Maybe Arthur was right, and it was a setup. After a while, the sound of hooves slowly grew distant, the only noise being your heavy breaths intermingling as you felt the adrenalin still run through your veins. 

“Shit, Arthur. What the hell was that?”

“That is why you don’t trust Uncle’s shit plans!” His voice was sharp like glass as he realized he was right like he usually was. “Foolish-minded fools, the lot of ’em!” He voiced his thoughts angrily. He was tense behind you, every move filled with a raging fury as he swiftly urged the horse forward.

“What do we do now?” You voiced your concerns worryingly. You had no idea where you were; the place was unfamiliar. It had grown chilly as the sun disappeared from the blue sky, the cold wind now apparent as the danger dissipated, and your body grew aware. 

“We find somewhere to hide until the next morning; they’ll probably be out looking for us, seeing as they think we have their money.” You hoped the others were well, even though you weren’t entirely too happy with how things had transpired. If Arthur wasn’t lying, they got the worst of it. You wanted to voice your concerns but decided to keep it to yourself for the time being; not entirely too sure that’s what he wanted to hear right now.

“I know a place where we can hide. It’ll be cold, but we’ll be safe. For now.” Unbeknownst to you, he glanced down at your shivering form. 

After a while, you could feel your breath calm down enough for you to relax slightly. Although you were still sitting up tensely, aware of the position you were in. Arthur was a big man, towering behind you, almost embracing you as his arms held the reigns at your sides. The warmth radiating from him was immense, and the softness of his scout jacket softened the impact of your back to his chest as the horse galloped. It did make you somewhat uncomfortable being that close to the man, but as time passed and the colder the air got, you found yourself sheepishly leaning backward to stop the chills running through your body. You hoped he wouldn’t mention it or, worse, push you away from him. 

The top of your head only reached his jaw when you glanced up at him, leaning your head back slightly. He was focused on the road ahead; eyes squinted angrily as he still grumbled bitterly under his breath. The corners of your mouth raised slightly before you curled your lips under your teeth, turning to look forward. He really was a grump sometimes.

Leaning forward, you ran your fingers through Boadicea’s mane as you patted her neck to try to calm your nerves. “You know, I’ve never been good at riding horses, so thank god you’re with me. No coordination whatsoever.” You laughed, trying to distract yourself from being chased through the now-dark country. Even though you couldn’t see them anymore, they were probably still on your lead. “We should be lucky we didn’t end up in a ditch somewhere. When we stumbled over that rock, I thought we were don-”

“That’s the place over there.” His gruff voice interrupted your nervous blabbering.

Your head perked up at his mention. It wasn’t much to cheer for, run-down seeming like a compliment compared to this place. Although still standing, it looked like it would fall apart if someone as much as touched it. But it had a door, and the windows were barred, protecting it from the winds rummaging through the landscape. I guess that counts for something.

“You sure they won’t find us here?” A gust of smoke from the cold surrounded you when you spoke. Logically, if they had followed your direction, they would probably have gone rummaging through every abandoned house they encountered on the way. The only answer you got was a grunt, and you almost rolled your eyes at him. What splendid company you would have for the rest of the night. Although, he had been right about the whole ordeal, so it wasn’t hard for you to see where he came from. If your previous thought had been correct, all of this would fall on Arthur. With him being in higher authority in the gang, he also held more responsibility and had to make sure the plans went along smoothly.

As you approached the cabin hastily, he stopped the horse in a quick motion, the dirt flying in the air as it surrounded you both. Hopping down from the saddle, he patted Boadicea gently on the neck. “Come ‘ere.” His hands went around your waist as he hoisted you down from the tall animal, fingers squeezing subtly around your waist as he steadied you on the ground, avoiding your gaze. 

“Why don’t you hitch her up by the door? I’ll have a quick look in the cabin.” As he pointed to Boadicea, you gave him a curt nod as you did what he asked. “Will she be alright out here all night?” You blurted out as you fastened the rope against one of the planks in the fence surrounding the cabin’s front porch. A distant reassurance from Arthur could be heard as he ensured you would be alone and undisturbed. Giving the animal one last pat, you stepped up the wooden stairs, wrapping your arms around you. Since the sun had disappeared from the sky, it was dark inside, and your eyes found it troubling to adapt since the moon didn’t light up the room. 

The house was eerie. Furniture still adorned the chipped, wooden planks with thick dust covering the various surfaces. The air was cold, with the smell of wood mingling with the ever-so-slightly scent of moldy food left on the plates. It looked like the people that had been living here had just walked away during their dinner.

“I wonder who lived here.” you thought out loud. Your voice was barely a whisper like the people were still sleeping upstairs. Although muted by the carpet, the floorboards creaked when you stepped inside, the fabric now muddy from your shoes. Arthur was shaking the planks nailed to the windows from the inside, making sure they would stay in their place

“Come on. I’ll keep a lookout for a while, see if I can hear them passing by. Get some rest.” He pointed you toward a botched chair in the corner. It didn’t look like the most comfortable chair, but it would have to do for the night. Not that you had a choice anyway.

“Are you sure? I can accompany you if you want.” Your words grew warm at his selfness, looking at him with a prolonged gaze as he reached to take off his jacket. He held it towards you and, as he secured his hat, bowed his head as he headed out the door.

“Nah, get some rest, alright?” You were left in the darkness as the door closed, trembling from the shivers racking through you with the heavy jacket hanging from your grasp.

-

What the hell was he thinking? He daydreamed about you like he had every right to imagine you that way when you rode with him. Hell, you would probably spit in his face if you knew that most of his thoughts involved you. What a sad man you are, Arthur Morgan, thinking you could ever get your hands on her. Pure and warm, that’s what you were. You were too good. Your care extended further than his ever had, treating him like he deserved your kindness. Deserved you. He kept his distance from you, only speaking to you when necessary to try to make you understand that he wasn’t a good man—but being as close to you as he had during the ride shut off his brain entirely.

The guilt ran through him as he sat on the porch, leaning against the door. Being in the same space as you proved to be too much for him now, the smell of your hair still clouding his mind. Shit, it was impossible to keep you out of his mind. Raising from the coldness of the ground, he swept his hands over his face, leaning his arms to rest against the fence as he observed into the distance. The place was surrounded by trees, somewhat deep in the woods, quite far from the path. He hoped it was far enough, not wanting to put you in more danger than he already had. 

Irritation was still running through him at the outcome of the situation. He knew this would happen. At least they got away with the money. But if Cornwall’s men managed to get ahold of Bill, Uncle, and Charles, it wouldn’t matter. He didn’t feel up for a rescue mission right now; they had far more complicated things to think about.

-

As you sat in the chair for a while, wrapped in the oversized jacket Arthur lent you, your eyes became familiar with your surroundings. Finally, you could breathe out, although the stress from the predicament you just got yourself into raced through your body, making it hard for you to rest. It was dark and cold, and you missed the comforts of falling asleep in your bedroll at the lookout, surrounded by the women’s quiet whispering. Although, you felt safe enough knowing Arthur was outside in case anyone would stumble upon you two. 

There was a large table in the middle of the room where Arthur had placed his satchel and some benches adorning the walls by the stove. A fireplace was by one of the walls with various portraits perched on it, along with some candles and other trinkets. Yawning, you stepped up from the seat, wrapping the jacket tighter around you as you stepped towards the wall, examining the portraits. You wondered who they were as you ran your nimble fingers over the dusty surface, a stoic face now starting to show. You laughed slightly under your breath; the man looked downright horrified as the woman beside him smiled warmly. Was that his wife? You turned the frame, squinting so you could read the writing. 

“Ms.Hevett with son, Mr.Hevett.” Hmm, they both appeared to be very old. Mamas-boy maybe? You giggled again, putting your hand over your mouth to dull the sound. Returning the portrait, you glanced around. Oh, maybe Arthur had a match to light the candle! Well, of course, he had a match; he smoked every chance he got.

You tiptoed towards the door as it creaked when you pushed it open quietly. You called out for Arthur gently, seeing him leaning on the fence. His head turned to yours, alarmed, looking behind you as his hand rested on the gun in his holster. “You alright?” The words flew out from his mouth as he tensed, walking towards you. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wondered if you have a match.” He looked at you for a moment, then furrowed his brows as he grabbed the edge of the door. “A match? Why? You don’t smoke.” 

You glanced sheepishly at him now, realizing you might be bothering him. “Well, there’s a candle in there, and I just, I, would be more comfortable if it wasn’t so dark. That’s all.” He scoffed slightly at your words. “You supposed to be sleepin’; what does it matter if it’s dark?” He asked you in disbelief. You only pursed your lips, staring at him as the moonlight reflected on his face. A sigh left him as he beckoned you inside, giving one last glance around the outside of the cabin. 

“This candle right here. If only we had some firewood, we could also warm the place. See, there’s a fireplace! I imagine the house was cozy when it wasn’t run-down.” You babbled as he followed behind you, reaching for a match in his bag. As he did at camp yesterday, he lights the match at the sole of his boot. Immediately, it casts the room in a warm blanket. It didn’t feel so eerily anymore, and the flame flickered around you softly.

He raised his brows as he spoke. “First, you want me to light this damned candle, and now you want me to go chop us up some wood?” He sounded more amused than his earlier cranky mood, but still, you looked at him unamused. “It was just an observation, alright?”

He chuckled lightly as he looked at you, observing you for a few seconds before speaking up. “You okay to sleep now?” His rough voice spoke the words as he motioned to leave again.

“Um, sure. Arthur, did you know a mother and her son had been living here? It said so on the portrait. I wonder what happened to them?” The words left you hurriedly, looking to say something to make him stay with you for a while longer. It was hard to explain, but you felt safer with him. In here. With you. 

You pointed towards the portrait. He glanced at you shortly before stepping back into the room. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been here a few times.” His answer was short.

“Oh.”

The air was stuffy, and the tension grew thick as you looked at each other. Neither of you knew what to say since Arthur always seemed to get tongue-tied around you, and you were unsure of how to converse with him. You draped the jacket even closer, staring at the floorboards.

“Ya still cold?” He startled you slightly, your head perking up at his words. “Umm, yeah, a little, but the jacket’s helping… so.” He nodded at you, grabbing the belt with his hands, tightening his lips together, his eyes never leaving yours. He looked like he was expecting you to say something, waiting for the words to leave your mouth.

“Oh, sorry, you’re probably cold as well. Here you can have it back.” You stepped towards him, the jacket slipping off your shoulder. 

“No, no. You take it, I’m used to it, alright?” His words were kind and selfless, and you felt terrible for not bringing your own jacket. Of course, he was cold; it was freezing in here. Knowing he cared enough for you to put your comfort before his own made your heart beat slightly faster. 

Once again, he went to exit the door and leave you in the empty house, but the moment he opened it, the words left you before you could stop them.

“Will you stay in here?” It was silent as the raindrops started to fall outside, pattering on the roof as the tension grew suffocatingly thick. Glancing at you with his head bowed, he cleared his throat. 

“It’s just I’ll feel safer with you in here. That’s all.” Feeling the need to explain your sudden outburst, you felt a blush rise at the humiliating situation. He probably thought you were childish, finding your words annoying and demanding.

Giving you a curt nod, he closed the door behind him, pushed one of the side tables against the door, and locked it.

“It won’t rain in, so don’t worry. Now,” He leaned back on the chair by the table in the middle of the room, putting one leg over his other to lean the ankle against it, taking his gun out of the holster and cleaning the dirty metal. “Get some sleep. We’ll set out in the morning.”

You listened to him this time and sat on the chair, bringing your legs up towards your chest as you closed your eyes. You knew it would. be hard for sleep to find you, but you still gave it a chance. 

-

You were wrong; you were able to sleep. But it didn’t last you very long, for the cold had seeped through both skin and bones, leaving you with tremors running through your already shaking body. You could still hear the thunder in the distance and the heavy rain splattering against the wooden roof. You opened your eyes, finding another pair staring right at you. You felt your stomach turn, the display of emotions running deep in his eyes as he observed you. His legs were spread wide where he sat, keeping sight of both you and the door in case someone barged through. The flickering of the faint light hit his eyes, painting his otherwise blue eyes a darker tone. It felt like a dream.

“Alright, that’s enough.” A heavy sigh left the man as he stood up. The floorboards creaked under his weight as he walked over to you. Grabbing under your arms, he lifted you as he sat on the chair. Gently, he placed you on his lap, with your head resting on his neck and legs draped over his thighs. 

“Jesus, woman, you’re freezing.” As he talked lowly, you could feel his voice rumble in his chest, the feeling soothing against you.

Oh, darn it, he was warm. How could he be so warm? No thoughts except warming your freezing frame made you wrap your arms around his waist, the thick jacket covering both of you. You felt his hands run over your arms, trying to warm you up as you moved against him, relishing in the heat from his body as you nuzzled your cheeks in the crook of his neck.

And finally, you fell asleep. 

-

“Arthur.” Jolting awake, Arthur’s eyes widened in the candle-lit room. His whole body tensed up as he gazed down at you, alarmed. 

Seemingly unhurt, a worried expression was on your beautiful face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked you. Shushing him, you placed your hand on his bicep carefully. 

“You were mumbling in your sleep. Is everything alright?” Your eyes were tired but warm as he blinked down at you, now noticing his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you towards him. “Yeah, ’m alright.” His words were low, choked at the sight of you staring this tenderly at him. This was a dream, he told himself.

As his arms relaxed around you slightly, you wrapped yours tighter around his neck. He was so suffocating, his scent surrounding you from every direction as you basked in its grasp. His eyes were intense, the now sullen look he always carried vulnerable, as the folds around his eyes evened out. It still felt like you were in a dream, and you longed for it never to end. Good dreams never found you, but now you had it in your hands as the comforting blanket cloaked around you like Arthur was wrapped around your scorching body.

No words were spoken as you gasped slightly, nimble hands stroking up his arms as the broadness stretched against his shirt. His cheek was warm when you placed your trembling fingers on his scruff, tracing small figures as you observed the scar on his jaw and the slight bend of his nose from getting it dislocated often. As you grazed his skin, your eyes never left him, even when he closed them to revel in your touch. Being this close to him was comforting; the contact was foreign to you but something you had longed for. Feeling wanted by him was what you wanted your dreams to turn into for the longest time. And it finally did.

The world around you grew quiet; only your breathing was audible as his chest moved under you, heavy intakes of breath raking through him. Letting your gaze fall to his lips, yours parted slightly. Through hazy eyes, you closed the small distance between you. A warm surge spread through you as his chapped lips met yours, his slight beard tickling your skin. A low moan escaped at the contact, and your heart burst at the seams, the fire flaring and oozing with each movement. You always wondered what pressing your lips against his would be like, his stoic character making it feel like your wishes were miles away. But now you knew, and it felt better than you imagined. His hands were still around your waist, holding you tightly as you felt all the excitement overflowing in your veins at his apparent contentment of your actions.  

You snuggled into him, holding his cheeks and caressing them with your thumb. Slowly, you leaned your head back, feeling dizzy from the emotions clouding your brain. He followed you as you pulled away, almost as if you hauled him towards you like tied with a lasso. His breath warmed your skin as his lips were placed in the conjecture of your neck as he leaned against you. As you giggled slightly from the tickling sensation, he breathlessly chuckled as he left wet trails up to the space under your ear, caressing the small of your back with his large hands. His gloved hand against the fabric of your blouse felt enticing, your back arching due to his touch, your upper body now pressed flush against him. You held his head close as your hands were buried in his thick hair. His lips found yours again, shifting against you fervently as he moved with more vigor. 

Of course, it was a dream, Arthur thought to himself. It bled into every nightly thought he has had of you now for the longest time. Your scent reached his nostrils. It was so sweet, so you. Small arms were wrapped around him, and your legs were now glued at either side of his thighs as your soft lips touched the skin under his ears in a silent kiss. Shivers wracked through his body as he ran his coarse hand alongside your waist, the soft woolen fabric hugging the curve of your waist tightly. Small gasps emitted from you as your hands ran up his stomach to his chest, planting small, tender packs against the slightly sunburnt skin, looking up at him through hooded eyes. Sinful, that’s how you looked. 

He lifted you slightly, capturing your soft lips in his. The sweet caress of your skin against his felt divine, the wet noise of your tongues finding each other mingling with the sound of the rain outside. As the jacket slid down your shoulder, the man was left staring at the soft curve of your round breasts, revealed from the unbuttoned cotton of your blouse, the slight hardness of your nipples showing through the fabric.

“Arthur”

“Mmh.” He was too far gone now, but he kept assuring himself he was dreaming. You would have never put your hands on him if he wasn’t. He had noticed how you huddled closer to him from the cold when you rode on the horse, your figure nestling against his, curves snug against him. Did you do it on purpose? Were you aware of what you were doing to him? He was still trying to recover from what transpired in his head when you escaped the riders. No, not from the bullets seeking to pierce his flesh, but your bottom. Your soft, tantalizing rear. It had been flush against him as you leaned forward earlier, the round hips taunting him temptingly, almost as if they begged for his hands to caress the soft curves that stretched the fabric that covered it. Damned skirt. What he would have done to push it up your legs and reveal the tender flesh hidden beneath them. Your slit bare against the saddle’s leather as you squirmed, jiggling your cheeks like you were begging Arthur to give in to your desire. Shit. He shouldn’t have been thinking about you like that, not when you were right before him.

Leaning forward slightly, you ran your fingers through Boadicea’s mane as you patted her neck. You spoke, but the words that left your mouth turned into nonsense in his clouded head. 

He had given you some nonsensical answer as he stared down at you through hazy eyes as your hips moved in sync with the horse’s motion, words flexed mindlessly out of his mouth as his restraint seemed non-existent. Your terms of cheerful disbelief grew distant as heat traveled through his body at his unholy thoughts, mouth too dry to give you a coherent answer. His hands moving on the reigns, trying to keep them from indulging your softness against him so he could feel the tremendous friction he was sure would send him straight to heaven. Christ, you riding on a horse should be illegal.

But now you were here, with him, and he had your soft body in his grasp. The tension from his earlier thoughts became apparent, his hands moving on their own as they familiarized themselves with your curves that felt so real. Too real.

Suddenly, you felt his hands on your button as he hastily lifts you. Automatically, your legs seek ahold of his waist, arms around his neck. He moved quickly over the floor as the lightning lit up the room from the cracks in the door, laying you down on the table and leaning down to cover your body with his. He was so close to you now, feeling every part of him press against you—every aspect. 

Snap!

Frozen in place, wide eyes adorn your face from the sudden sound. Arthur was still above you as he sharpened his ears, finding it difficult to hear since the rain hit the ground loudly outside. The snap had been just outdoor, like someone stepping on a branch. Panicked, you tried to find a reasonable explanation: an animal, a branch falling, or maybe Boadicea had moved.

Slowly, Arthur raised his body from yours, leaving you flustered and scared on the table. With a frightened stare, you looked at him as he raised his finger to his mouth, slowly stepping away so the wooden planks wouldn’t creek. Leaning against the door’s side, his hand rested on his pistol. Stay still. His eyes told you to do as he said, and so you did. It’s not like you were able to anyway, your muscles petrified. They had found you. The worst outcome filled your mind; what would they do to you if they got the upper hand? Turn you in, or worse, put a bullet between your eyes?

The loud noise of the door slamming open made you shoot your eyes toward it, finding Arthur standing in the doorway with his pistol pointed out into the dark.

“Aw, shit.” His throaty voice was laced with disbelief, making you lift your head from the table. Your laugh filled the space as the back of your head hit the table with a loud clang, eyes squeezed shut from the sight in front of you. It had seemed like Boadicea had found a friend, the stallion standing still from the sudden intrusion and ran away in haste. “C’mon, get outta here!” The surprised man cursed after the horse, beckoning it out as your hands found your face. The adrenaline still racing through you made your hands shake as the hilarity of the situation made you speechless. Placing your hand on your racing heart, you sat up as the old cutlery clinked underneath you, hearing Arthur’s loud, angry steps hit the porch steps. 

Standing before you, he sighed at your amusement, but you could see a slight smile worm its way underneath his frown. Although it quickly disappeared as he gazed at you before him. Right.

What in the world were you thinking? Now clear-minded, the intimacy you had shared entered your mind. Shame rose in you as your cheeks blazed, taking ahold of your blouse to cover your exposed state.

“Um…” You didn’t have the chance to finish the sentence before he cut you off. Hastily, he grabbed his rifle on the table and the pouch in harsh movements, making sure not to touch you before he went towards the door with big steps.

“It’s soon morning. Stay here until then; we’ll leave in a while.”

After the door slammed shut, the quietness was deafening. Now alone, you could see the slightest bit of light entering the cracks in the walls, but it didn’t ease the heaviness in your chest. It hadn’t been a dream, you thought to yourself. Every minute had been actual: his coarse hands, desperate lips, and body heat. If you closed your eyes and focused enough, you could still feel the traces of fingers over your clothing as his smell reached your nose once again, like he had united with the ghosts of this house and now haunted you. Taunting you. Why had he reacted so yet touched you so fiercely? You felt a pang in your chest at the thought, not understanding. 

Opening your eyes, you buttoned your blouse in shame and put your hands on your cheeks as you lifted yourself off the table. It was still chilly in the room but not as bad as the night before. Mindlessly, you wandered over the space, sat in the chair where Arthurs’s jacket lay, and brought your knees up to your chest, hugging it tight with your arms. The blissful moment you had together faded, the warm touches dimmed into cold, malicious blows to your heart as the hope of finally having a pleasant dream vanished, the moment turning into an all too familiar nightmare.

[octoberautumnbox]

A Little Goes a Long Way

fromis_9 Roh Jisun & all the other frommies :DDDD

Categories: fluff, cooking, really light blood but it shouldnt be too big of an issue

Word count: 1.0k

a/n: prompt by @msafterhours!! im actually a dumbass bc i got the prompt completely wrong lmao but here yall go!! oki i hiatus again byeee

It’s something about the manner in which the knife cuts through meat and muscle–something about how things come together in the pot that makes Jisun happy as can be. Home isn’t home, she’d think, when the kitchen hasn’t got windows that rays of sun enter through on warm mornings, or when the cupboards and cabinets aren’t stocked for visiting friends or midnight snacks. There’s a romance, a magic, a unique rightness in a home where one cooks for both body and soul. 

“Good girl,” she muses, finding the beef sitting in a basin of water on the countertop, “can always count on Jiheonnie.” She replaces the now-cool water with a new pool fresh from the tap, before gathering the rest of the ingredients and getting to work. 

Jisun opens door after door of cupboards, taking out each of the rest of the ingredients in turn: green and brown onions, sesame seeds and sesame oil, sugar and salt, garlic and ginger, red and black pepper. Cute, she thought, that each had a partner. 

The sun watches intently from the other side of the window, filling her kitchen with a calming warmth you'd scarcely find anywhere else. The clouds rein in the too-intrusive rays, while specks of pollen merrily dance across the glass pane. With her celestial audience on the edge of their seats, she gets to work. 

“Yeah it's you, yeah it's you,” Jisun hums under her breath. She measures out each portion carefully, transferring them into tiny bowls that matched colors and handles and rims. It must be something in her bones today, how her step is sprightly and her fingers reach and flex with less poignancy than she's used to. 

It isn't long before she thinks back, a green onion steady between the countertop and her left hand while a knife is secure in her right, that she remembers when Jiwon held them wrong and almost cut her finger open. She recalls Hayoung slicing peppers, followed by onions, rubbing her eyes in between every couple of strokes to push away persistent tears that never seemed to run out. She smiles at the memory of Jiheon not knowing solid and liquid measuring cups were different, and the resultant cake falling flatter and growing firmer than their beloved maknae had liked. 

Her lip finds itself between her teeth, thinking “Good thing they have me,” as the once-long stalk of green onion grows shorter and shorter. “What would they do without me?”

And yet, it was nothing compared to the contrary. It waltzes to the front of her mind, amidst draining the thawed beef of its former frost, how Saerom put her arm under her after a particularly rough day of practice. It shone like the sun, as Jisun mixes the paste, how Seoyeon talked her ear off when Jisun had run out of things to say. The rush of fondness fills her chest remembering how Nagyung complained when Jisun saw herself in the mirror and frowned at the reflection, all the while she works the marinade into the meat.

As she places each strip into the smoking wok, Chaeyoung enters her mind, the same way Chaeyoung entered the practice room in the baggiest pants Jisun had ever seen, only to pull out a Melona for them to share with their backs against the CCTVs. The scent and symphony of sizzling meat fills her kitchen with a profound sense of melancholy, remembering walking with Gyuri one morning before the sun rose, just one lap around the building, and yet it so happened that it was enough to share four years’ worth of troubles with each other. 

She tips the wok over a respectfully waiting plate. The meat steams and settles onto the surface, expelling the tensions of the stove and relaxing into a Jisun-like state.  The green onions fall predictably onto the food, meeting nooks and crannies in the meat with attention that welcomes a tongue seeking solace in homemade comfort. A final touch, Jisun thought, to finish the job, to give the palate something to want to come home to the next time it wanders out into the wide, wonderful world: just a drizzling of honey– not too much, certainly not too little. The viscous liquid spreads all over the dish, sending its enticingness to new heights and bringing the delicacy together. 

At last, her meal is nearly complete. Jisun sets it on the dining table, right in the center of the square wooden surface. She admires it for a moment, the hard work of the past half hour lost on the world but not on her, before she clears her throat to finally, fully, completely allow herself to enjoy the fruits of her labor…

“Girls, time to eat!” She then counts silently, one, two, three– frantic footsteps grow louder and louder until Jiwon and Hayoung come crashing into the room. They both shriek, “I want to sit next to Jisun!” It makes her giggle, just as much as seeing Seoyeon and Jiheon holding hands and walking in step towards the table themselves. Nagyung and Chaeyoung follow, still glued to Nagyung's phone as Chaeyoung points to the screen, “That's the guy I was telling you about,” before they take a seat across from her. 

Jisun takes a deep breath, waiting for one more, and it comes in the form of a comforting hand on her shoulder and a pat on her hair. “Thank you, Jisun,” Saerom whispers with nothing but love in her voice. Her leader takes a piece of the meat and makes a show of eating it, and it's almost comical how much she overreacts. “Holy shit, this is delicious–” Saerom mutters, her hand over her mouth. 

Nagyung pipes up, “Thank you, Jisun-unnie,” prompting a slew of variations from each other member at the table, until a cacophony of gratitude fills Jisun's ears. The warmth of their love spreads through her body, filling her with gratitude of her own.

“You're welcome, girls. Eat well,” she says, as she finally takes a piece of meat for her own, giddy in the anticipation of knowing that it'll be one of the most delicious bites of food she'll ever have. 

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Started writing this on a whim when I saw some fan arts with Sebastian where he has long hair, y'know my heart simply couldn't resist. So yeah, enjoy this short little thing ig <3

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Soft yandere content, kidnapping mention, gn!reader.

"Bastian, I have a silly request to make." You already feel your face heating up, thinking of better ways to say what you've been thinking for the last few minutes. Asking for stuff was still new and somewhat difficult after all those months being deprived of everything.

Sebastian knelt gracefully on the soft carpet before you, the sound of the embers in the fire being the only sound to be heard other than your breathing, his usual predatory glint replaced with a rare softness. Well, it wasn't that rare - on the contrary, you didn't like that look when you saw it. At least, you won't for a few months. Now, that look brought a warm feeling to you. A good feeling.

"What do you need, my dear?" He asked, his voice a melodic blend of curiosity and amusement. His gaze never wavered from your face, capturing every nuance of your expression.

Every anxious thought behind your eyes, how you swallowed as if he was forcing to eat sand, the subtle way in each you were breathing. You were nervous.

"Ah, well, you see... I was wondering if you, like, can grown your hair with your powers so I can braid it?" A small, hopeful smile started forming on your lips as his held your face on his hands, massaging your cheeks with his thumbs. Sebastian used to do this to soothe you.

A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. The request was simple, yet it held a profound intimacy that made his black heart beat just a bit faster. He wondered for a second if you could hear it beating, so loudly and so quickly. He wouldn't mind if you did.

"Anything for you, my love," Sebastian whispered as a silken promise. With a graceful wave of his hand, his ebony locks began to lengthen, cascading down his neck like a midnight waterfall, each strand gleaming in the soft light of the chandelier and the embers.

You looked at him, a bit surprised by how eager he was. Months ago he'd laugh at such request - or, and now you thought, maybe not. If you behaved well, he wouldn't act with any kind of rudeness and violence. He was sweet in every one of his gestures.

You began to braid it, your fingers working deftly through his hair, weaving intricate patterns with practiced ease. Sebastian hummed, accompanying each and every movement you did with a different tune. Each touch, each gentle tug, sent a ripple of pleasure through him, igniting a possessive fire that burned fiercely within his chest.

You got up from your spot by the fireplace and positioned yourself behind Sebastian. Almost instantly you started to gently run your fingers through the silken strands, marveling at their smoothness and the good smell. Sebastian remained perfectly still, his eyes half-closed as he savored the sensation of your touch. There was a possessive glint in his eyes, one that spoke of a deep, unwavering devotion and hunger for any kind of touch you offer him.

He was greedy for you and your love - or your hate. He didn't mind much, any kind of attention was positive for this demon.

What I did was right, he mused. Giving you a better place to live, cooking every meal for you, bathing you in his love. And I'll do everything again if needed. You had come around just like he knew you would.

You couldn't see but Sebastian's lips curved into a contented smile, his usually stoic demeanor softened by the tender, spontaneous moment you shared. He could feel the warmth of your affection in every movement, in every glance you stole at him when you thought he didn't know about, in every smile you send his way. He could almost purr contently.

Finally, you tied off the braid with a delicate ribbon, the color matching the deep red of his eyes.

"Perfect," You whispered, admiring your handiwork with a satisfied smile.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, wanting nothing more that you felt comfortable enough to ask him for anything else no matter how silly or mundane you thought it was. If it's for you, he wouldn't care.

Sebastian's eyes glinted dangerously, there wasn't a mirror nearby but nonetheless he loved the result. He reached out, cupping your cheek gently, his touch as light as a feather.

"Indeed, my love," He murmured while looking at you over his shoulder, his voice a tender caress. "Perfect."

[darlinluxx]

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑’𝐒 | 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐊 ౨ৎ

pairing : saebyeok x fem!reader

fluff

warnings : mentions of alcohol

summary : you and your girlfriend celebrate new years

a/n : let’s ignore how this is days late 😭 i had this fic wrote and then tumblr didn’t save it so i had to rewrite it but i think this version is better

if you have any requests, feel free to message me <3

𝐓he biting Seoul wind whips around you, tugging at the scarf you’ve wrapped tightly around your neck. but you barely notice the chill. your heart is a warm ember in your chest, fueled by the bright neon lights of the city and the hand clasped securely in yours. it’s New Year’s Eve, and you’re walking hand in hand with Saebyeok, the woman whose quiet strength and unwavering gaze have completely captivated you.

as you navigate the bustling crowds, snippets of conversations and laughter float around you, but your focus is solely on Saebyeok. you feel the rough pad of her thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand, a small, comforting gesture that speaks volumes. you glance at her profile, the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp catching the sharp angles of her cheekbones, the determined set of her jaw softening just a fraction as she looks down at you.

“cold?” she murmurs, her voice a low rumble that seems to vibrate through you.

“a little,” you admit with a soft smile, “but not with you here.”

she doesn’t respond verbally, but her fingers tighten around yours, and the corners of her mouth quirk upwards in a subtle, rare smile that always leaves you breathless.

you push through the crowds towards the river, the air becoming crisp and clean as you leave the more congested streets behind. the river stretches out before you, a dark mirror reflecting the dazzling fireworks that have already begun to paint the night sky with bursts of vibrant color.

you find a relatively secluded spot by the river, a little hidden alcove away from the main throng of people. Saebyeok pulls you closer, her body a comforting warmth against yours. she leans against a tree, and you nestle yourself beside her, grateful for the solidness of her presence.

the first fireworks explode overhead — a shower of gold and crimson light that illuminates her face, making her eyes gleam like polished obsidian. you watch her, almost mesmerized, as she calmly takes it all in. there’s a quiet intensity about her, a stoic grace that makes her seem somehow untouched by the chaos around you.

“they’re pretty,” you say, your voice barely a whisper, the words meant for her alone.

Saebyeok turns her head, her gaze locking with yours. there’s a depth in her eyes that always make you want to lose yourself, a hint of vulnerability that she rarely shows the world.

“yeah,” she replies, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “they are.”

silence falls between you, comfortable and easy. you stand side by side, watching the fireworks erupt in a breathtaking display of light and sound. the air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and alcohol, and the cheers of the crowd in the distance create a vibrant backdrop to this private moment you share.

you lean your head against her shoulder, feeling the solid muscle beneath her jacket. it’s a simple gesture, but it brings you a sense of peace and belonging that you never thought possible. you close your eyes for a moment, inhaling the familiar scent of her — a mix of leather and something indefinably her — and a profound sense of happiness that washes over you.

as the clock ticks closer to midnight, the fireworks reach a crescendo, a chaotic symphony of color and light. you feel Saebyeok shift, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hand. it’s a small, unconscious gesture, but it sends a jolt of warmth through your entire being.

“happy New Year,” she murmurs, her voice husky.

you open your eyes and turn to face her, the light from the final burst of fireworks reflecting in her dark eyes. a smile stretches across your face, a genuine smile full of happiness and gratitude.

“happy New Year, Sae,” you reply, your voice a little breathless.

and as the final firework fades away, leaving behind the soft glow of the city lights, Saebyeok leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips. it’s a gentle kiss, full of tenderness and unspoken promises, a moment that seals the start of a new year, a new chapter, a new beginning with the woman you love. the cold fades away completely, replaced by the warmth of her touch, the promise of a future held in her gaze. the city may be celebrating, but in that quiet alcove beneath the fireworks, your heart is already overflowing. this year, you know, everything will be alright. as long as you’re near Saebyeok.