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fangswbenefits · 5 months

Text

Oral Fixation

Summary: Astarion is quite sure you are going to drive him insane from how adorable and clueless you are when eating those juicy fruits around him... and he just has to do something about it.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Oral fixation. Slight corruption kink. Oral sex (m receiving). Innuendo. Cumplay.

Word count: 2k

Astarion was sure he was going to lose his sanity.

Whether it'd be from the tadpole or you, he wasn't certain yet, but he had a vague idea.

He just couldn't tear his eyes away from your lips as you took a bite from an apple.

With each passing second, he could feel his cock harden more and more.

From the way your eyes closed to the way you hummed when swallowing... it was all driving him closer to the precipice.

But what made him more obsessed than ever was just how adorably clueless you truly were of what you were doing.

As he sat down next to you by the campfire, he could tell you felt totally at ease with him.

You trusted his company and he just couldn't tear himself away from you.

A few droplets of juice began dribbling down your chin and along your neck, and he promptly reached out with his thumb to collect them.

You flinched slightly under his sudden touch and glared at him with a smile. "Oh! Didn't notice you next to me."

Gods.

You were too sweet for your own good.

"Yes, you were distracted keeping that mouth of yours busy," he said so casually that others might have missed the innuendo.

And, in fact, you did.

He adored hurling those at you when you least expected, knowing you missed every single one of them as he kept edging himself.

He then brought his thumb to your lips and you quickly parted them, allowing him to slide it in.

His cock twitched violently and he felt the familiar droplets of precum begin to drip from his tip.

The sight of you sucking gently with an innocent look on your face could easily make him come, so he would need to tread lightly.

"Are you still hungry?" he asked, trying to remain as nonchalant as he possibly could.

Your tongue swirled around his thumb as you nodded.

He pulled himself out of you, much to his disappointment, feeling an intense wave of lust take over him.

As adorable as you looked suckling on his thumb, he wanted your lips around his cock.

He needed to feel your warmth and he felt his cock throb at the thought of you struggling to get past the first few inches.

"Gale found some apples and peaches in a nearby cellar," you chirped happily, smiling widely at him. "Wish he wasn't so tired, so that we could all share."

Astarion wasn't bothered by the wizard's absence.

At all.

In fact, he was more than grateful to have your undivided attention this late at night.

"Well, you are our leader, so it seems only fair that you have the best of the best."

He shifted slightly closer to you, grabbing a peach from the basket on the ground, offering it to you.

You gave him a genuine and heartfelt nod of appreciation, leaning in to sink your teeth into its soft skin.

"Does it taste good?" he cooed, nearly wincing from the unbearable increasing tension inside his trousers.

The ripe fruit nearly melted under your hungry bite, its juices pouring down from the corner of your mouth.

"You should use your tongue more," he suggested.

Your eyes met his and he spotted the usual hint of confusion.

"Look. You are ruining your shirt," he explained, tugging at the now stained fabric that covered her chest. "Your tongue can be helpful, ensuring you can keep it all in," he finished, fearing the implication in his words had been too on the nose.

He had certainly gone too far.

But...

You merely chewed your bite away and nodded with a smile.

And he grew even harder, if that was possible.

Astarion felt like a hypocrite as he could feel his own mess down below, and it would take long for all that precum to seep through the fabric unless he found a way to deal with this.

Suddenly, you took the peach from his hand and took another bite, darting out your tongue to collect the overflowing juices.

"Like this?"

He swallowed, bringing his hand to his waistband, trying to discretely tug at it to alleviate the maddening strain from his cock.

"Almost like that."

You frowned. "Then how?"

You were making this too easy for him.

"I could teach you."

The two of you had been quite intimate in more ways than one before, but it had all been quite chaste.

Still, he was more than content with how things had naturally progressed, even if his body yearned for you to loosen up just a bit more with him.

He wanted to truly show you how much of a devoted lover he could be, and he wanted to teach you how to enjoy every single moment of it, while also giving back.

You sat up straighter, looking eagerly at him. "Then tell me. It shouldn't be that hard, right?"

Oh, it's quite hard, alright, darling...

He felt a few more droplets of precum seeping through the fabric of his underwear.

"I could just show you."

You nodded, waiting.

He rose to his feet and offered you his hand. "Maybe in my tent?"

You joined his side, staring at the basked filled with fruit. "Why not here?"

"It's getting quite late."

You nodded.

The shift in positions had him realise just how much precum he had already leaked for you, his underwear clinging to his strained cock.

"Besides, there are other sweet things for you to taste.

Not only that, but he wasn't about to have you take his cock in your mouth in the middle of the camp, risking getting caught.

No.

He wanted you all to himself.

"Oh. Alright, then," you said with a soft smile.

Gods... he wished he could devour you right there and then and turn that sweet smile into a whimper of pleasure.

He guided you to his tent in silence, occasionally glancing around to ensure no one was going to disturb this.

As you walked inside and he closed the flaps behind him, you turned to glare expectantly at him.

"So...?"

He tugged downwards on your hand.

"You want me on my knees?"

He nodded, desperate to free his aching cock.

"Wait... why?"

As you did what he expected from you, you were then able to eye-level with his crotch, the candles providing enough light source.

And then your eyes widened.

"Oh... oh... you're..." Your voice trailed down, and he nearly moaned from the way you gulped.

"Painfully hard? Yes."

Your eyes didn't move and he took the chance to finally undo the lacing of his trousers, letting out a groan of relief as he freed his cock.

What a complete mess...

He was completely soaked in his own precum, a few drops dangling from the tip before hitting the carpeted floor of his tent.

Your eyes widened again and your lips parted. "I've... never... I've never done this..."

He brought his hand to grip your chin, caressing your jaw with tender fingers.

"Would you like to?"

Shifting closer, Astarion watched as his hard cock hovered over her face.

Your eyes met his. "I don't know what to do."

Astarion was quite positive even your worst attempt would effectively bring him to completion.

As a matter of fact, he was already certain he wasn't going to last long just from how you faintly pouted at him and because he knew you were a perfectionist at heart.

That you would struggle to take his cock, but would be too stubborn not to try.

"I can teach you, darling."

You were burning under his touch, contrasting beautifully with the coldness of his own skin.

He then shifted even closer, and a string of precum dripped onto your lower lip.

You immediately darted your tongue out to swipe across the tender flesh, and he couldn't hold back a low growl.

"Open your mouth for me. Wide."

And you did.

Of course you did.

You were always so eager to learn from him.

You had been appointed to lead the group, but in the privacy of his tent, he was the one leading you.

"Tongue out."

He wrapped his fingers around his cock and gave it a tight squeeze, drawing more droplets of precum from it, so he could have them land on your tongue.

In the back of his mind, he wondered how his cum would taste mixed with the sweetness of your mouth after having indulged in those apples and peaches.

He tugged on your chin and pressed the underside of his cock flat against your tongue. "No teeth."

You immediately nodded, resting your hands on your thighs, waiting for him to make the next move.

He really wasn't going to last long.

But he wanted to at least make it to the back of your throat, if you could even take him that deep without gagging.

Your warmth and wetness welcome the first few inches, and he hissed as your hands flew to his clothed thighs for support.

"Easy now, darling... don't bite off more than you can chew," he tutted, caressing your flushed cheek.

His other hand kept you in place, thumb pressing down on your chin, parting your mouth wider for him.

"You can take more, can't you?"

You nodded, but he could tell you were beginning to struggle slightly, breathing heavily through your nose and eyes wavering.

Astarion took pride in being gentle no matter how badly he wanted to reach his peak.

And you deserved that.

You deserved it all.

And so, he took a moment to let you adjust to his girth all the while trailing soft caresses along your cheeks.

"You are doing so well, my sweet," he cooed, loving the sight of your mouth stuffed with his cock. "Just a bit more..."

It took all of his willpower not to buck his hips as you reflexively swallowed around him, trying to ease him in deeper.

He pulled his shirt up just so he could properly watch you take more of him.

Your fingers gripped him tighter and he kept on showering you with praises, unable to look away as yet another inch of his cock disappeared past your lips.

"You look so beautiful..."

Almost there...

But as he was about to hit that sweet spot at the back of your throat, you began tapping on his leg, and he immediately slid out.

He immediately took your face in both hands. "Are you well?"

You coughed, wiping a few tears away, spit mixed with his precum coating your lips and chin. "You're just... too big..."

Astarion was actually average, but your inexperience was truly endearing, and he would still take that as a compliment.

He brushed his thumbs along your cheeks.

"You are doing amazingly, darling."

You gave him a slight pout. "Let me try again."

Stubborn as always.

He nodded, and you resumed your previous stance.

"I am not lasting long," he warned, wanting to make sure you understood the implications of carrying on. "Do you think you can swallow?"

You looked unsure for a while. "Maybe.... you can just come on my tongue and... I'll slowly swallow?"

His cock twitched at your suggestion and he groaned in approval.

By the time he slid back inside, he could feel his peak approaching more and more rapidly.

He wanted to fuck your mouth so badly, but he knew he had to hold back for your sake. After all, he could always make this a regular occurrence.

And practice makes perfect.

You began to tentatively suck and Astarion nearly burst right there and then.

That innocent suckle tied with your eagerness was a powerful combination, and he no longer cared that others might hear his grunts of pleasure.

"Good girl... you can suck harder if you want to," he encouraged, feeling his eyes nearly dropping shut from the overwhelming sensation.

You hummed around him, pressing the flat of your tongue against the underside of his cock.

And Astarion just lost it.

He barely had time to pull out before the first spurts of thick cum were being squeeze out by his hand.

"Tongue..." he barely managed to say before you promptly spread your lips, tongue fully out as he emptied himself on it.

He fucked his hand a few times as he rode out the blinding wave of pleasure, quite surprised he was able to keep his eyes on you the entire time.

He couldn't remember the last time he had come this much.

You did try your best to keep it all on your tongue, but his cum began to dribble from the sides, down your chin, neck and finally staining your shirt.

As he slowly came down from his high, he quickly unbuttoned your shirt, wanting to see the thick liquid coating the top of your breasts.

What a sight...

He could get hard just from it alone.

As he squeezed the final drops onto your tongue, he saw a single string of cum bridging your lower lip to his tip.

"I do apologise for the obscene amount," he said truthfully.

You merely grinned as you allowed some of it to slide down your throat.

But before you could swallow all of it, he got down on his knees and took your lips in his, wanting to taste your sweetness mixed with him.

You pushed some of it against his own tongue and he eagerly swallowed it, caressing your jaw.

He tasted sweet and salty and he reckoned he could get addicted to this.

When you finally parted from him, your eyes kept that expectant glint on them. "So... how was my tongue?"

He leaned in to press a soft peck the corner of your lips.

"Could use some more work, but the road to Baldur's Gate is long, and I believe we can make the time to practice.

A/N: sorry... got carried away.... haha....

Masterlist

#astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion bg3 #astarion

3K notes · View notes

gucciwins · 5 months

Text

Y/N just wants Harry to like her.

Word count: 5964

A/N: Friends!!!!! I am sorry to have disappeared but I am back. Yes, I am aware this is a Halloween/October story but you're getting it now mid November (that has been going by fast). I won't work on any holiday stories because I have no idea what to write. So if you have an idea and want me to write it feel free to shoot me an ask.

Now happy reading! I love you

Many people go to work ready to return home, but not Y/N. No, she walks in every day with a smile and a pep in her step. She greets her coworkers by name and occasionally brings baked goods she knows everyone will enjoy. Y/N loves her job, and she’s happy to go every day.

Y/N went from working in a job she hated because it was filled with men constantly belittling her and gaslighting her that she was doing her job wrong when she was actually excelling. It all got to be too much, and Y/N decided to quit. Thank goodness she did because soon into her job search, she received an email from Carla Crain asking her if she’d be interested in joining her company. Y/N went to the interview, and after basically being pitched her dream job, she accepted and entered as head engineer.

She’d be lying if she wasn’t nervous starting, but the people Carla had hired all shared the same values on work and life. Y/N knew she’d be in safe hands. The company is small but slowly growing. It allows for every employee to get to know each other and everyone to remember that together, they can be successful. Y/N had been at the job for two years and, with time, brought new coworkers.

There is Estrella, who loves to talk to you about astrology, ironically enough. She states that the invisible string theory is real and that if everyone tracked it, they would notice just how small the world is.

Carmy has a tough exterior, but once anyone gets him talking, he never stops. He loves chatting about his family and his pet Pitbull named Daisy.

Maeve is petite, and every other month comes in with a new color in their hair. Y/N enjoys it when everyone in the office places bets on what it will be.

Tatum is from Scotland and loves to remind everyone when they all go out for drinks on the weekend.

Chessy is the only one who works remotely, but when she comes in, she is always laughing in the office. They also all get a basket of fresh fruit and vegetables from her garden.

Overall, Y/N knows she had the best coworkers and wouldn’t change her job for the world, but as their company grows, so does the need in their team. The newest hire is Harry Styles, who has come in as a computer technician to help develop their website and also help with any internal security. Honestly, all she knew was that it was a complex job.

Harry was on the quiet side. She tried to start conversations with him, but he always seemed to brush her off. At first, Y/N wondered if she should take it personally but soon learned he did that to everyone. Even though he didn’t open up to them, they still invited Harry to join them.

The thing was, he rejected all their dinners. Y/N loved going to a Korean BBQ Maeve introduced them to, and Harry claimed not to eat meat (not that she didn’t think it wasn’t true. Chessy was vegetarian, after all.) They would go to a bar and share a few drinks when they knew they would all be having a long weekend off. Harry always claimed he had an early morning. It didn't matter if they offered to meet earlier. Y/N’s favorite nights were trivia nights that happened at a local brewery. Y/N was a beat, especially in history. Harry declined, and this one hurt her the most.

Everyone would ask Harry to join.

Karaoke. Can’t hold a tune.

Bowling. Too loud.

It seems there was an excuse for everything.

Everyone began to stop inviting him out, and while Y/N didn’t enjoy being told no, she would send notes to the office with the time and place of what they would be doing. She’d always keep an eye on the door, but Y/N went home disappointed each time.

The thing was, Y/N was determined to make a friend out of Harry. She soon learned large public settings must be overwhelming for him and decided to find a new way to approach him. Everyone took lunch at the same time in the office except for Harry. Sometimes, they all ate at the sub shop across the street. Most times, Y/N brought food from home, and she cooked. While she liked eating out, Y/N preferred a home-cooked meal. She caught Harry taking his lunch half an hour later than her and used that to her advantage.

They had a conference that always remained empty as everyone preferred the main lounge. Harry went in there every day for his lunch hour. One day, Y/N walks in, smiles at him, and sits as far away as she can. She made sure to only be there for ten minutes. The next day, she stayed for twenty and wished him a nice lunch when she left.

Slowly, Harry begins to spare her glances, but Y/N keeps to herself until the day she sits across from him.

“Hi, Harry. Is it okay for me to sit here?”

No answer.

“I’m going to take that as a yes.”

He fidgets with his fork.

“I saw a lime bike out front. Did you ride that today?”

Harry looks at her briefly before staring back at his plate.

“I’ve always wanted to try one, but I’m honestly scared of being hit by a car. Chessy lets me ride hers when I go down to visit her. She’s got beautiful trails. You’d probably enjoy it.”

Y/N thinks that’s enough for today and excuses herself. She doesn’t realize Harry noticed she didn’t take a bite of her lunch. When she goes back to her desk after using the restroom, she finds three chocolate chip cookies sitting on her desk. Y/N rushes to try one, doesn’t even think of who delivered them or that a green-eyed man was standing right outside waiting to hear her reaction.

With time, it seems Harry is coming to appreciate Y/N’s presence. He has never expressed it, but she knows because he nods when he agrees to something she says or tightens the hold on his fork when Y/N shares something upsetting. Y/N had not gotten more than two words out of him. At this point, Y/N felt like Harry knew everything about her; all she knew was that he had the most beautiful eyes, and his hair always looked soft.

One day, after many lunches together, she finds Harry reading a book. Y/N knows he might want quiet, but her curiosity gets the best of her.

“Any good?”

Harry looks up and grimaces. “Think it’s really boring.”

Y/N laughs because she wasn’t expecting that response. “Then put it down.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t like not knowing the ending.”

Y/N shrugs, “if you don’t like a book, I wouldn’t put myself through the torture of it all. Skip to the end if you're curious.” She understands she spoke too much and excuses herself.

The next day, Harry is sitting in his usual spot, but this time, a new book is in his hand. Y/N bites back a smile.

“What’s this one about?”

“My sister recommended it,” he defends.

Y/N isn’t halted by his harsh tone. “What’s it about?”

“Well, it’s Pride and Prejudice.” He shows her the book cover.

“Like the movie?” Y/N asks.

Harry laughs, and Y/N feels successful. His laughter rings in her ears. It’s a lovely sound, and she wishes to hear it more. “Yeah…I like the movie.”

“Me too,” she gushes. “Do you think I’d like the book?”

He frowns, “if you like Jane Austen.”

“Might have to pick it up next time I’m in the shops.”

Their interactions are solely during their lunches but sometimes spills out during work. Y/N seemed to have an issue with her computer and radioed IT. She needed to submit her document, but her desktop appeared to freeze whenever she opened a new file. Harry knocked on her door, and she welcomed him in. Y/N explained the issue, and Harry was quick to get to work. It was only a few minutes when she noticed that her document was open and her computer wasn’t having a meltdown.

“Thank you so much, Harry!” Y/N cheers, knowing he saved her.

Harry shrugs because it’s his job. “You have a nice photo.” He’s pointing to her picture frame on her desk. It’s a picture of her and a dog in Iceland at the end of her hike. It was taken back when she was nineteen years old.

“Thank you. I took that on my first solo trip.” She bites her lip, hoping Harry takes the bait.

“Where to?” He asks curiously.

She silently cheers, “Iceland.”

“Is that your dog?”

“I actually found him mid-hike and took him back with me. I hoped to see his owner on the trail, but there was no luck. He didn’t even seem worried. Once I returned to the car park, his owner was there. After that hike, I decided I liked the company of a dog and returned home to adopt Tutter, a Jack Russel Terrier who loves to play fetch.”

“Why isn’t Tutter on your desk?”

Y/N feels her face flush, “now, don’t be mean. I love my son, but that trip taught me I can do anything I set my mind to, whether alone or with company.”

Harry gives her the slightest smile. “I-I learned Italian because I always dreamed of having an Italian home.”

Y/N’s eyes brighten. Harry is opening up to her, and instead of pushing, she offers more of herself. “I’ve dreamed of visiting. The Amalfi coast is my dream to swim in. Silly, I know,” she brushes off, trying to downplay her excitement.

Harry doesn’t let her. “You’ll make it.”

He finally excuses himself. Y/N is happy for the rest of the day because she realizes Harry is allowing her in.

September means the preparations for Halloween have begun. It starts with little things, from coasters and mugs to the occasional treat. One day, a tiny spider sits on his desk for a second. Harry believed it was real until it began to glow purple. Harry kept it on his desk next to his sticky notes. He doesn't do anything about it; there’s no need. By the second week, the office is entirely decorated. Harry admits a few decorations have scared him, especially the skeleton in the corner of the restroom.

It’s a quiet day when he’s walking by the break room on his way to the secluded office to have lunch when he hears people talking. Harry pauses because he hears Y/N’s voice mixed in with everyone else.

“But it seems like he doesn’t like us,” Harry hears quietly.

“It’s hard,” Y/N defends. “You’re all extroverts. It can be overwhelming.”

Harry knows she’s trying for them to understand.

“But Carla is all about unity in the office. This is a concern.”

“It’s not, Carmy.” Y/N shuts him down, clearly upset she had to defend him.

Harry decides he’s heard enough and decides to eat lunch alone in his car. He’s thankful it was a sandwich and nothing he had to heat up. For the entire lunch and the rest of the day, all he thinks about are the words of his coworkers.

Y/N looked for Harry, excited to talk about a book she started, but Harry was nowhere to be found. She wouldn’t have been concerned, but it’s clear no one saw him since before lunch. She wishes Harry could confide in her even if a fraction of what she shares with him/

The next day, everyone walks into the office at their usual time, everyone making their rounds together to the break room to prepare their coffees and store their lunch in the fridge. When Y/N walks in, she sees her coworkers huddled around the table and peeks around them to see what has captured their attention. There on the table is a box of Halloween cookies from a bakery uptown with a note attached.

Enjoy - HS

Y/N lets a smile take over her face. She knew Harry cared about them but understood why he finally did something. She tells her coworkers they owe him an apology, and they all agree. Y/N makes sure to head to Harry’s office and thank him for the cookies. Harry tells her it’s nothing. She bounces away to her office, where Estrella, Carmy, Maeve, and Tatum are standing outside her door.

“Can you come with us? Feel like he likes you.” Tatum tells her.

Y/N sighs and tells them to follow her. Once again, she knocks on his door, and they all file in when he welcomes her in. Harry looks at them confused.

“Uh, is there an issue?” Harry asks, concerned.

Carmy starts, “we want to apologize if you overheard us yesterday.”

“Right,” Harry sighs, knowing it might be a good time to share with them. If he trusted Y/N and she trusted them, he knew he could also start to.

“It was wrong of us,” Maeve continues. “Y/N raves about how smart and nice you are, but we don’t get to see that. We’re sorry.”

Everyone else repeats the sentiment while Harry looks at Y/N, who offers him an encouraging smile. She must know his anxiety is through the roof.

Harry takes a deep breath, “right, uh.” He looks down at his shoes, untied lace on his black Adidas. “I struggle with social anxiety and new environments. It’s better than when I was a kid, but it’s easy to get overwhelmed even more when being the new guy.”

“No worries. We get that,” Tatum expresses. “Estrella gets bad migraines.”

“Don’t air other people’s personal stuff,” Y/N reminds them.

“We’re sorry,” they offered one last time. “Thanks for the cookies.”

After that, they hurried out while Y/N stayed behind.

“I wanted to apologize,” he begins.

“You don’t–” Harry cuts her off. “You’ve made me feel comfortable.”

Y/N sighs, letting her shoulders drop. “Not enough, it seems.”

“It can just be too much sometimes.”

“I-I get panic attacks.” Y/N shares, surprising herself. “When I overwhelm myself, it can happen. It’s uncommon and has not happened at work, but I understand.”

“Thank you for sharing,” Harry tells her honestly. “Lunch?”

“See you in a bit then.”

Through September, Y/N and Harry have lunch together every day. They read together, Harry more into classic literature, and Y/N loving to devour a juicy romance that has her pausing every few minutes, trying her best not to scream because the love interest brushed hands. Some days, Y/N will do a sudoku game while Harry does the daily crossword. Y/N likes to solve the Wordle of the day and most times asks Harry for help if she fears she might not get it. Some days, Y/N brings in her laptop during lunch because she is behind and needs to catch up. Harry reminds her to relax. He knows it’s easier said than done, so he tells her about the book he’s reading or asks about her dog and the snacks he eats.

Before she knows if they’ve made it to October. One of the best months of the year. Y/N loves planning events, and this is one she wishes Harry would say yes to. She knocks on his office door, and Harry freezes, staring at his computer screen. He glances at the calendar; it's the first Monday of the month, and Harry knows they’ve planned a fun event.

Harry is practicing his excuse when Y/N walks in with a bright smile, wearing a “Great Pumpkin” shirt with Snoopy and Charlie Brown. She has told him it’s her favorite movie to watch during the month and “The Conjuring” Harry wasn’t sure how the sweetest girl he knew could handle a horror film like that. He had told her she was fearless.

“Hi, Y/N, pretty shirt.”

Y/N looks down at it as if she had forgotten what she was wearing. She beams at his compliment. “Thank you, Harry!”

Harry asks how her day is going and shares how there was traffic on the way down and how she didn’t have time to stop by her favorite coffee shop because there was a line out the door. “Pumpkin spice isn’t even that good, H. I mean, it’s okay, but I wanted my coffee.”

He laughs at her pouting and promises to make her one during lunch. She perks up at his mention of their shared time together.

“Speaking of our time together. We plan to go to a haunted pumpkin patch in the next town over if you want to join us. It’s two weeks from now, so it's the 21st.” Harry could hear the excitement in her voice and didn’t think he could say no to her.

“Everyone is going?”

“We invited everyone, but only Carmy, Estella, Maeve, Tatum, and myself are going. Carla was not for it. Dan is warming up to us but still says no. Though he did agree for trivia next week.”

Before he can stop himself, he says, “yes.”

“You will?” Y/N answers surprised.

“Mhm…uh, it sounds like fun,” he says unconvincingly.

Y/N’s smile brightens, “I’m not hung on haunts, but they’ve got amazing apple cider you’ve got to try with me.”

“Happy to join,” he tells her honestly. “Let me know the ticket cost or if we need to purchase our own.”

She nods eagerly. It’s clear Harry has just made her day.

The day comes faster than he’s ready, and while a part of him is excited, Harry feels his nerves will get the best of him. Y/N had told them no one was dressing up in costume and even went as far as to send him a photo of her outfit to assure him she wasn’t playing a joke with him. She was wearing bell bottoms with a Mickey Mouse in a pumpkin shirt. She told him it was his favorite to wear each year.

Harry knew it would be cold, so he wore a simple Halloween shirt in his closet and loose-fitting jeans. His jacket in his car he knew would keep him warm throughout the night. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone (only Y/N) but also wanted to look nice outside of the office for once. When Harry parked, Y/N told him she’d wait by the entrance for him, and he couldn’t miss her as she had a cute pumpkin headband on.

It seemed Y/N spotted him, too, because she rushed towards him. “Hi, Harry,” she greeted with a cheery smile.

“Hi, you look lovely,” he offered her a small compliment that made his hands sweat.

“You’re too sweet. Come on, we were waiting on you.” She grabs his hand and pulls him along to where everyone else is.

Everyone offers their greeting, and he receives a few compliments on his tame outfit. It’s an old Halloween shirt he got at a vintage shop in New Orleans five years ago. His sister went on a trip and asked him to join. Harry could never say no to her.

Harry notices everyone begins to drift off into conversations, but Y/N stays by his side. He takes the time to admire her as she looks around at all the decorations. There are a lot of people, but it seems they are heading to the pumpkin patch. There are stalls selling sweet treats, and he keeps in mind to buy Y/N a cider, remembering she mentioned loving it. Harry has always thought being in a relationship to be intimidating. He loves love but struggles to put himself out there, to allow someone else to get to know him, but here is Y/N, who managed to worm her way into his life, knocking down all of his walls.

Harry likes Y/N.

It’s something he took a long time to figure out, but when he realized the excitement of seeing her each morning, he looked forward to it. He let it consume him, but he had no idea if she could feel the same way.

“Did you drive here, Harry?” Y/N asks, breaking their silence.

“I did,” he answers.

“Do you think you could maybe take me home?” She brushes her hair out of her face. “I came with Tatum, but she’s been wanting to take the time to connect with Estella, if you know what I mean,” Y/N gestures to them kissing on hay bales.

Harry had no idea that there were feelings between them. “I can do that, Y/N.”

“Great!” She cheers gratefully. “I owe you an apple cider, then.”

Y/N eagerly walks them to the stand, and before she can pay for both, Harry slips the kind older lady a twenty walking away with their drinks. Y/N stays behind, shocked, but quickly catches up, pouting at Harry. “Harry, I was going to pay.”

He shook his head, “my mum would have my head if I let you pay.”

Y/N bends her head, careful to take a sip of the warm drink. “Well, thank you.”

Maeve bounces over to them. “Hi beauties, we’re ready to start if you all are.”

Harry eyes Y/N, waiting to see her response. Y/N offers her friend a large grin, and Harry agrees he’s ready. He throws away their ups, and once he finds Y/N with the group, he slithers to stand behind her. Y/N offers him a tense smile as the group tries to decide who will lead.

“I can go in front,” Harry offers, sensing no one wanting to make the first move. Everyone thanks him and heads to the first maze. Y/N informs him it’s once based on the catacombs in France.

“There’s a movie based on the catacombs,” Y/N shares as they walk together.

“As Above So Below,” Harry says. “It spooked me.”

“You’ve seen it,” she laughs, holding onto his arm for a second, unable to contain her excitement. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“It’s a good one,” he agrees.

They fall into silence as the chatter of their coworker fills the air. Harry sees Y/N get fidgety, but she’s smiling as she leads the way to the short line. “I’m actually really nervous,” she tells Harry.

“We’ll be fine. I got you,” he assures Y/N.

Harry extends his hand, and she accepts it. He intertwines their fingers and pulls her along as the line moves slowly. Y/N does her best not to think about the feeling of his hand, but it fits perfectly between hers. She feels her hand begin to sweat and wants to pull it away, but Harry has a firm grip on her.

“Is it okay?” Harry nods, gesturing to their hands.

“Safe, uh, I feel safe.”

The worker asks how many, and Y/N peeks behind Harry to tell her six. Harry is grateful Y/N knows when to take charge because while he can lead a scary maze and knows everyone is dressed in costumes, he still feels nervous speaking to strangers. Harry squeezes her hand once in thanks. She gives him two quick squeezes in return.

Harry guides them in. Y/N lets go of his hand to hide behind Harry, her hands on his shoulder as she peeks behind him. There is a group ahead where she can hear the people in front screaming, which allows her to prepare for the scare, if that is even possible.

Her eyes widen in amazement as she takes in the darkness of the building. Everything is covered in black cloth. She can see the spots where actors will jump out. Y/N mumbles an apology to Harry for holding on to him tight. Estella is behind her, screaming at everything that moves. Harry steps through the curtain, and she feels her hold on him loosen. As she is stepping closer to reach him, a man screams in her face, making her rush forward and propel Harry into a wall.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Y/N apologized repeatedly as Harry rushed them to finish the maze. She felt her heartbeat in her throat and knew she needed to calm down. One look at Harry, and he rushed her to a dark corner, not concerned about their friends.

“Y/N? I’m okay. You’re okay.” Harry tried assuring her.

She repeated it in her head. They were okay. They got out of the dumb maze, and Harry wasn’t hurt. It took her a few minutes to realize she had a panic attack. Y/N had not even felt it coming and didn’t think a haunted house would trip her into one, but with all the overthinking she had been doing, it made sense it led to this.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” Y/N bashfully looks away from him. She can’t believe she embarrassed herself in front of him like this.

“No apologies,” he brushes her off and doesn’t ask her any questions, only to ensure she is okay.

They rejoin the group after ten minutes by the looks of everyone's sympathetic smiles. She knows they saw her freak out, but they’re her friends. She knows she’s in safe hands with everyone, especially Harry.

“What’s the next maze?” Y/N asks cheerfully.

And so they continue on.

The next maze is much smoother than the first. Carmy leads, tucking Harry and Y/N in the middle with Tatum and Estella in the back. That order seems to comfort Y/N for the next few mazes. Each worker makes her scream but then falls into giggles when Harry traces comforting shapes on her hand. It takes her mind off these scarers trying to get her to scream and instead focus on the gentle touches of her crush.

While doing the mazes is fun, Y/N is soaking up talking to Harry in line. They’re in a new environment where they do not need to discuss work. She feels free to ask him anything, but sometimes she is unsure where to start. Y/N doesn’t know if she wants to hear about his weekend plans or ask him about his favorite movie or who his favorite Muppet character is?

Talking to Maeve and everyone else is easy because she’s gone out with them. She knows them personally, but with Harry, he always kept that guard up, and now she’s unsure what to do if he decides to keep it up.

To her surprise, Harry always starts the conversation with her. Harry shares about a new show he started watching and how it makes him anxious for the main character when they do something out of character. When he asks Y/N if there is a show she recommends, her mind goes blank, and the first thing that comes to mind is “Fleabag.”

“It’s the saddest but most comforting show I have ever seen,” Y/N gushes.

“With Phoebe Waller-Bridge?”

“Mhmm…the second season has Andrew Scott. Irish treasure.”

“Paul Mescal,” he adds.

“Hozier.”

“Saoirse Ronan,” they say in unison before falling into fits of giggles.

“You’ve got taste, Styles.”

“As do you.”

The line moves, and they change conversations to talk about the best musicals they’ve seen. Y/N swears “Waitress” is the best thing created, but Harry tells her “Moulin Rouge” is his favorite. Y/N loves how easily the conversation with Harry seems to flow. He feels like a long-lost friend. Someone who once was in her life has now found his way back to her.

Not only is he getting along with her, but everyone is getting to see the Harry she had come to know. The one who makes cheesy jokes and loves to hear every detail of the story being told. It turns out he and Maeve frequent the same record store. There’s a Stevie Nicks vinyl Harry is on the hunt for, and Maeve promised to keep an eye out for him. Tatum learns Harry can play guitar and asks him to show them sometime. Something he agreed to with pink cheeks. Y/N knew tonight was a big step for Harry, and she was glad everyone made him feel comfortable.

As the night was coming to an end, the maze lines got shorter, and the more Y/N screamed. It made her laugh right after, but still not her favorite part of the night. Before the cold can settle in, they all call it a midnight night. Tatum and Estella head out hand in hand. Y/N can’t wait for the details of that on Monday. Carmy is telling Harry a story, so Maeve uses the opportunity to remind Y/N to make a move.

“It’s now or never, girlfriend.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “please don’t pressure me on this.”

“Y/N that man is, head over heels for you. If I was antisocial this is not an event I would ever do. Unless someone I fancied asked.”

Y/N toes her food in the sand and, in a low voice, asks, “do you really think he likes me?”

Maeve smiles, brushing Y/N’s hair out of her eyes. “That man lit up every time your eyes were on him. I don’t know Harry as well as you do, but I can notice a guy with a crush from miles away. Trust me on this.”

Y/N backs down, relaxing, “okay.”

“Good. Now text me when you get home. Carmy’s got me.” Maeve gives her a tight hug and then pulls Carmy away from Harry.

He walks over to her with a shy smile on his face. “Have a good time?”

“The best,” she tells him. “Though I might need another apple cider. Think my heart needs it.”

“By all means, lead the way.”

After getting one last warm apple cider, they reach Harry’s car. It’s an electric car because he’s conscious of his environmental impact and knows one person can go a long way into the future. Harry opens Y/N’s car door and waits until he sees her seated and buckled to close her door. As he gets ready to drive off, he turns on the heater, knowing if he’s cold, Y/N must be too.

The car ride starts off quietly, Y/N guiding him every so often when to make a turn. Y/N sees her favorite coffee shop and knows she is almost home. “That was fun,” Harry starts. “I’m happy I went.”

“Mhmm…it was a good time. Glad you joined us,” she tells him honestly.

Harry notices at a red light that she’s fidgeting with her hands and thinks he might still be cold. “Do you need me to turn up the heater?”

Y/N shakes her head, “no, sorry, I’m fine.”

Harry drives down a few more streets when Y/N tells him to turn left. “It’s the third one on the right.”

He parks right outside her driveway. From here, he can see her decorations hung up. It’s decorated charmingly. It’s clear no scaring would happen here. She’s got two pumpkins outside her door. One has stars carved all around; the other is a cat on a witch’s broom. Bat lights are hanging up the railing of the steps. She even has a few inflatables. His favorite has to be the one of Mickey Mouse as a vampire.

“Thank you for driving me home. I appreciated it.” She smiles at him, and he returns it. Harry gets out of the car and opens her door.

“Let me walk you up.”

Y/N feels her cheeks burn and leads the way.

“We’re planning trivia soon,” Y/N says, testing the waters.

“Hmm…only if you’re on my team.”

“We would all be on the same team,” his flirting going over her head.

Harry’s face turns pink, “uh, right.”

She laughs, placing her hand on his bicep. “Only joking.”

Y/N pulls him in, whispering good night, except when she pulls away, she locks eyes with his emerald eyes, and it’s like she’s in a trance. She feels herself leaning in closer, and before she knows it, Y/N presses her lips to Harry in an airy kiss.

She pulls back, shocked. “Sorry,” she breathed out. “I-I should have asked.”

“Ask me,” he pleads.

“What?” Y/N isn’t sure if she heard him correctly.

Harry doesn’t care anymore. He raises his hand to rest on her cheeks. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

She feels how close he is. She can feel his breath mixing with hers. “Yes.”

When their lips meet, Y/N swears she feels time stop. Harry is starting slow as he begins to learn what she likes. Y/N places a hand on his chest, needing to have a secure hold as she feels him take her breath away. Her emotions are all over the place. His lips are smooth as they move against hers in a dance that feels like they’ve done a hundred times before. Harry deepens the kiss, pushing her up against the door, making Y/N grab a fistful of his shirt, not wanting him to pull away. Y/N lets herself get wrapped up in all her feelings because she knows that a kiss this special means it won’t be her only one, and she finally allows all her feelings to pour into the kiss.

Y/N isn’t sure how long they spent kissing outside her door. It seems she’s lost track of time since she got a taste of Harry. “I don’t want you to go,” she mutters against his lips when she feels him begin to pull away.

“I’ll see you Monday,” he promises.

“Too far.

Harry laughs, “you can call me tomorrow when you wake up.” Knowing she likes to sleep in, he would rather not wake her up.

“Okay,” she whispers in defeat.

“Good night,” Harry takes a step back.

Y/N bites her lip and gives him a wave. “Do you want a kiss goodbye?”

Harry can’t say no.

Monday morning, Y/N walks in with a large smile. It makes everyone stop and stare. She makes her rounds, wishing everyone a good morning, and saves Harry for last.

“Hi, Harry.” She chirps.

“Morning,” he answers timidly.

Y/N pouts because he didn’t even look at her. She wanted to see his beautiful eyes. “So I was thinking…” she trails off.

Harry turns, giving her his undivided attention, and Y/N’s smile widens. “How does a date sound to you?”

“A date?” He echoes.

“With me,” she giggles.

“Best thing I've heard all day.”

Y/N claps her hands together, “wonderful.”

“How does this weekend sound?”

“Too far,” she teases. “Saturday?”

“I’ll pick you up,” he promises.

“Good. Good.” Y/N lingers by his door.

“Yes, love?”

Y/N feels her cheeks heat up but doesn’t look away from him. “Are we still on for lunch?”

Harry gives her a dimpled grin, “I’ve got a new book for us to discuss.”

Y/N tells him she can’t wait and walks away. Harry watches her go, and as if she can feel his stare on her, she turns around and gives him a wink. Harry knows he’s way in over his head with someone as amazing as Y/N, but he can’t wait to prove each day to her how much he deserves to be with her.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles story #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry story #harry fic rec #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x y/n #harry styles halloween #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #fic rec #harry styles pleasing

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sanguineterrain · 1 year

Text

about a boy - e.m.

Summary: You've never had a boy in your bed. You're not sure what you're meant to do with one.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings/tags: none i don't think? mainly fluff and an overthinking reader (they're so me)

divider by firefly-graphics

There's a boy in your bed.

"M&M?"

You turn your head. Eddie holds the bag of candies to you.

"Okay," you say, and take a blue M&M.

Eddie smiles, about fifteen M&Ms in his own mouth. His attention returns to the screen. You have no idea what's playing.

A boy is in your bed, and he's put a movie on, and now his thigh is pressed against yours, lean and warm.

Eddie's socks are green and have tiny yellow stars on them. He's pulled them over his jean cuffs to keep the cold away. Not that it matters when he has a sleeveless Metallica shirt on.

But Eddie doesn't seem to get cold, anyway. You went for ice cream last week even though it had snowed the night before.

Eddie had paid for your ice cream, which isn't something to look too into. Steve's paid for your ice cream before, because Steve's a nice guy. And Eddie's a nice guy too. So maybe nice people pay for ice cream. And that's all.

Your eyes trace the dip of Eddie's belly, the slice of skin that peeks out between his waistband and shirt hem. His exposed arm and neck is sprinkled with freckles and you can see the edge of the demon tattoo on his breastbone.

Your heart races. That's wrong, isn't it? Looking at Eddie like that? Hoping he'll give you more?

You don't know. You've never had a boy in your bed. There's no guidebook.

Eddie laughs at the screen. You relish in his swelled cheeks and glimpse of fanged canines. You love Eddie's smile; bright and all-encompassing. You can't help but be pulled into his orbit every time you're around him.

You ought to give Robin something for introducing the two of you. A fruit basket, or maybe Vickie Summers in a gift box.

Need curls deep in your chest as you watch Eddie sink further into your pillows. You wonder if he can feel your eyes on him. That would be embarrassing. But maybe he'd be flattered that you're looking at him; that you can't help but.

He's touchy. Affectionate. You're really not, but Eddie takes it in stride. He gives you little half-hugs instead of his usual squeeze-the-soul-out-of-you ones. He bumps your shoulder or simply walks beside you, respecting your space.

And funnily enough, through all that, you've begun to wish Eddie would touch you more.

"'M gonna get more popcorn," he says. "Y'want something else?"

You turn your head in a vain attempt to make it seem like you haven't been mooning over him like a lovesick calf.

"No, no, um, thanks. Thanks."

You cringe at your clumsy mouth. Eddie's oblivious, hopping off the bed and disappearing into the hall.

Are you even allowed to want more? You and Eddie are friends. Maybe even Good Friends, especially after the 'murderous monster tries to swallow Hawkins' crisis died down.

But you don't hang out like this. Where Eddie can see all the Polaroid pictures of trees you thought were good reasons to love the earth and of your mom and of the deer you saw once, and your sky blue wallpaper with clouds painted on it. You wonder if he thinks you're childish or silly.

Why does he even spend time with you? Are you the only one free? Was today a non-Hellfire day and that's why Eddie had agreed to come over? Nothing better to do?

You haven't the slightest idea what's happening in the movie. You should pay attention because Eddie might want to talk about it afterwards, and he'll be cross if you don't know what he's talking about.

Except, that doesn't really seem like Eddie. Still. You've never had a boy in your bed. You don't know if they expect you to pay attention to the movies they play.

You chew on a cuticle. Eddie returns in a couple minutes, climbing onto the bed with his knees. He offers you the bowl of popcorn. You shake your head.

"Everything okay, sweet thing?" he asks.

Oh, don't you just melt over that. You feel like the yellow M&M between Eddie's fingers.

"Yeah, f-fine."

You stare at the foot of space between you. Once, you'd dared to lean on the shoulder of a boy you didn't like that much. Your head hadn't stayed long on his shoulder, and afterwards, you wished you'd been struck by lightning.

What if this is like that? What if Eddie sneers at you and shuffles away. God, you can't handle that. You like this boy in your bed so much, it frightens you.

"This guy, the one in the raincoat." Eddie points. "He's one of my favorite actors. I like the way he talks. You ever get that? Liking the way someone talks?"

You look at him. Eddie looks at you. He's trying to pull you out of your head. He thinks something's worrying you. You're so anxious all the time. And Eddie knows that, so he tries to ground you. You withdraw and Eddie will call out to you and ask you questions. He always sounds lovely. Sometimes, you try to gather the courage to ask him something back. But the words remain lodged in your throat.

"Yeah, I get that." Be brave, be brave. "I like the way you talk."

You wait for lightning to strike.

"Really?" Eddie asks, sounding genuinely curious.

"Uh-huh. You have a nice voice."

Nothing. Not even a rumble of thunder.

"Sweet thing, you're gonna give me a big head," Eddie says with a grin.

He's not teasing you. Once upon a time, you might've thought he was, because it seemed like that's all people were capable of. But Eddie's not. He thinks they're nice, the words you say. You want to say more nice words. You want to keep this boy in your bed.

You also want to close this distance. Be a permanent planet in Eddie's orbit. Be brave.

You stare at that tiny foot of space between you again. You're probably being too quiet and still, and Eddie's probably worried you're stuck in your head again.

So before he can coax you out again, (because he cares about you. He cares about you, and you're just going to have to get used to that, alright?) you scoot an inch.

And another inch. And another.

You move at a glacial pace. You don't think Eddie's picked up on your little scheme. How fiendish you are, attempting to cuddle with the boy in your bed. Wicked!

Now, you're so close you can feel Eddie's body heat. His shirt looks soft and worn. You wonder what he smells like.

You move closer. Now, your chest is touching Eddie's side. He looks at you.

His eyes are dark like the blackest parts of space. If you do this and fail, those eyes might just swallow you up.

You listen for thunder, but the skies are clear.

"What's goin' on, pretty?" he murmurs.

"Do you like me?" you blurt, helpless in his pull.

Eddie's brows lift. He blinks, cocks his head.

"'Course I do, sweet thing."

"No, like." You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, then open them. "You like me enough for a movie, but do you like me enough to let me put my head on your shoulder?"

"Is that all?" he asks, eyes dancing. There's stars in them. "I like you so much, I want your head on my shoulder forever."

Cinnamon. Eddie smells like cinnamon.

You no longer wish to be struck by lightning.

"Oh," you breathe.

Eddie hums and gently taps your head with one finger.

"That what you've been thinking so hard about?" he asks.

"I've never had a boy in my bed," you say.

"'M honored to be the first."

You nod, jittery with hope. "I'm glad it's you."

And then Eddie eases you into his side. It's perfect. It feels like you're young and don't know any better. It feels like you'll never find anything else like it.

Eddie bows his head. His curls tickle your cheeks and shroud you from the rest of the world.

"And will you kiss me too?" you ask.

"As much as you want, pretty."

You think you can get used to having a boy in your bed.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader

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lila-went-missing · 3 months

Text

Because of Her

Small Clarisse drabble I made while watching Are Your Afraid of the Dark? season 3 cause I'll watch anything if Diors in it. It's not that great but I have a fic coming that's slightly similar to this but more frenimies to lovers if that makes sense.

Pair: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demeter!Reader

Clarisse La Rue had a reputation to uphold. She never lost a fight. She was never soft, never kind. Always ruthless, cold, and calculating. She was a daughter of Ares if nothing else, that was for certain.

But that all came crashing down the day she met you. The moment her eyes met yours, she knew she was fucked. Your sweet, caring gaze had her locked in. In an instance she was wrapped around your finger.

She would never admit it, but everyone knew she was whipped. Except you, the one person that mattered.

Over the last four years of you being at camp, you two had become extremely close. The fact that you hadn't realized how infatuated your best friend was with you, baffled everyone you knew. You saw the way she stared at you, but that was normal for best friends, right?

She fell more and more in love with you every day. That's what brought her to the strawberry fields. You were knelt next to one of the bushes, picking the ripe berries and tossing them into your basket. Her footsteps broke you out of your trance as she crouched next to you.

"What'cha doin', pretty girl?" A smirk graces her lips as she looks at you.

"Pickin' strawberries. Where've you been, Clar?" You giggle as you look up from the bush. She swears it's the most melodic thing she's ever heard.

"Training a couple of the new kids, you know how long it can take. How about, I make it up to you? How does that sound?"

"Really? How?"

She doesn't answer, she just grabs your hand and pulls you up to your feet, dragging you away from the fields and into the woods. You laugh as you're led through the trees. After a while she slows, walking side by side with you. Her hand never left yours, pulling you closer to her.

"Where are we going?" You ask, smiling up at her.

"You'll see, we're almost there."

Soon, you came upon a clearing in the woods. There was a blanket laid out with a basket on it, surrounded by flowers.

"It's the anniversary of the day you arrived at camp. I figured we should celebrate." She whispers in your ear, coming behind you with a hand resting on your arm.

"Clar!" You turn to face her, wrapping your arms around her neck. "Thank you!" Her arms come around your waist, pulling you into her. She lifts you up off your feet, carrying you over to the blanket.

“Of course, pretty girl.” Your placed back onto your feet, sitting with her on the ground.

“This had to take you ages!” You marvel as everything she’s brought, lemonade, all of your favorite fruit, minis your favorite kinds of sandwiches.

“It was worth it for you.” Your eyes meet, her hand comes to your cheek, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s all worth it for you.”

The breath is knocked from your lungs as you stare at her. Looking in her eyes feels like swimming in pools of honey, getting lost in the sweetness she only presents to you. The care only you are worthy of. Suddenly her lips are on yours, it takes you a minute to realize and by the time you do she’s pulled back.

“I- I’m sorry..fuck, I don’t know-” She’s cut off by your lips against hers. It’s passionate and soft, yet hot and fiery. The perfect combination of both of you. Her hands land on your cheeks and pull you furth into her. You could get lost in the way her lips feel, the taste of her cherry chapstick on your tongue.

“Clar..” You’re both breathing heavily when you pull away.

“I should’ve done that way sooner.” She admits. You nod in agreement.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t think you liked me like that. Thought you’d hit me and run away.”

“I could never run from you. Even if I wanted to, I think I’m pretty stuck with you.” You smile, your hand moving up to her neck.

“Yeah, you are.” She smiles back, kissing your cheek

“Well, we better not let this food go to waste..” You laugh softly, pulling back. She rests on her hands.” Yeah, this took me hours, you better eat it.”

Another laugh escapes your throat as you pop a piece of fruit in your mouth. “I thought you said I was worth it. Here I was thinking I was special.” Her foot nudges yours. “

“You know you are.”

The food is divine, and you have more fun than you have in a very long time. The flowers around you seem to bloom more, color saturating more, reflecting on your mood. The breeze is warmer. The trees sprout more leaves. And it’s all because of her.

#percy jackon and the olympians #dior goodjohn #x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #percy jackson #clarisse pjo #percy jackson disney+#percy series #demeter #best friends to lovers #pjo series #pjo tv show

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thatsdemko · 10 months

Text

Monaco lover - d.ricciardo

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: Daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

summary: with Daniel not racing, he begins to find new hobbies with his wife.

warnings: established relationships + fluff

a/n: only right I post for daniels bday!!

the basket in his hand is beginning to get heavier by the second, as you keep adding fresh fruits and vegetables from the little local farmers market.

you’re more than hours away from the loud music, busy streets, and the infamous Monaco circuit. your new home is a perfect escape from the city of formula 1.

it was Daniels decision to move away from the big lights and party animals after he no longer had a seat on the 2023 grid. he wanted a reset on life, and there was no perfect way to do it than far away from the cameras.

“you think we have enough to feed everyone?” you look at the overgrowing basket in his arms. leaves of lettuce and kale are hanging out brushing against his thighs as you walk up and down the slow streets.

“more than enough.” he assured you with a chuckle. it’s been weird to have Daniel home so often. you don’t hate it, formula 1 once took the man you loved and wore him down into a shell of himself. now away from the McLaren and happily in a reserve seat for Red Bull, you can begin to see that smile brighten everyday.

“well then let’s go home and wash everything, I’m starving.” you loop your arm through his and let him lead the way to your car, one he knows he won’t get caught or stopped in.

it’s not hard to be recognized, he’s had neighbors stop him while mowing the lawn or gardening with you, but they mostly respect your space unlike the people of Monte Carlo, where the flashing of cameras never stop.

“what are you going to eat first? those strawberries looked really tasty.” he sets the basket in the back seat, before opening your passenger door planting a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I was thinking about those peaches, but now that you say the strawberries, I might have to join you on that.”

“not if I finish them first.”

—

you can’t tell if he’s bored or if he genuinely enjoys cutting the grass, gardening, and the small town farmers markets. you know there’s a certain thrill he’s missing, and maybe he does all these things to occupy his mind of the itch to get back.

but right now, he’s deep into a conversation with your neighbors about the lawn and your backyard garden. he’s showing them the vegetables, herbs, fruits, and flowers he’s planted like they are his children.

it’s weird to you, to see him this way, because all you ever knew was Daniel ricciardo, the racer of fast cars. now he’s the friendly helpful neighborhood hand.

“so you and the misuses are going away next week? where to?” you watch Daniel mock the man’s stance, hands on his hips nodding along as they walk to the backyard.

“just Miami, we shouldn’t be gone for too long.”

“Miami? what are you doing down there?” he asks, quizzical look taking his face. the perks of being away from the chaos of Monte Carlo, meant not everyone in this little small town knew Daniel. and that included your elder neighbors who loved you both dearly.

“just some work stuff, nothing crazy.”

“I thought you were unemployed?”

Daniel laughs, you can hear it from where you sit on the couch, “it’s a lot more complicated than unemployed.” and it truly was, while Daniel was bringing home the big bucks from not driving for mclaren, he anxiously awaits an opportunity for a Red Bull seat this season. some say unemployed delusions, Daniel calls it optimism.

he shakes his head, “you kids these days, you keep me on my toes.” he pats Daniels shoulder, “make sure you two come over later for dessert, okay?”

“oh we wouldn’t miss it.” Daniel waves him off before going inside to find you still wrapped up in the blankets, but this time wide awake with a smile.

“you have fun with your friend?” you sit upright crawling onto your knees to meet him for a kiss. he just laughs wrapping his arms around your neck and pressing s kiss to those lovely lips he calls home.

“I hope when I’m older I turn out to be just like him. tan, happy, and always making dessert.” he laughs a little hoping his future turns out like that. he’s already got the most perfect wife, and soon enough he’ll have the most perfect little family.

“he does make some stellar desserts. his wife is lucky, I wonder when my husband will start making me desserts.” you joke recalling when Daniel attempted to make boxed brownies, and somehow burnt them to a cracker.

“I’ll just stick with growing you fresh fruit and veggies, how about that?”

“I’ll take it.”

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cursedcola · 11 months

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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia(Here!), Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: There may be some comma splicing here and there. Sometimes doing bullet works is more difficult than full fics smh.

Kalim is a dreamer. His mind is full of visions of the past, present, and the future. Why else do we make memories, if not to reflect on them and imagine what is to come?

This is his outlook on life. He doesn't give energy to worries or threats. He physically can't, or else he'd likely fall into an endless abyss of self-doubt. Kalim has no space in his heart for such things.

His happy-go-lucky attitude combined with this free spirit results in a loose lip. He is constantly ranting and raving about his future by your side. Which is lovely, but his over-zealous behavior can cause others not to take him seriously.

Exhibit A: Kalim proposing. Now, is this Kalim *actually* planning to propose, or is it just him beginning his weekly rant about how cute he thinks your kids will look?

Kalim's heart is an open book. He doesn't care about other people's opinions. He loves you, so he's going to say it. Every. Single. Day.

Can you blame his siblings for not believing him? For his parents not taking him seriously? He comes home one random day and spouting a tangent to begin preparing for an engagement party which just sounds like common Kailm behavior.

Not even Jamil believes him. Not after countless years of hearing Kalim's lovesick Jargen. He just groans in exhaustion and signals for everyone to ignore it.

Sweet sunshine doesn't realize that he is being overlooked until he whips out a ring to ask his mother's opinion on it, and suddenly the room is drop dead silent.

Then uproar. All his siblings are crowding around to share his excitement and it's like the room's aura made a complete change. Kalim thrives in the attention and all the well wishes.

He hopes they'll be just as happy once you say yes! If not more!

.....cue Jamil's groan. Again. This time in frustration.

They should have know. Of course he would do all this before asking.

Bless you for your patience. With his parents' blessing, Kalim once again gets wrapped up in his excitement and runs off to visit you.

Moving on. This...overzealous...behavior Kalim exhibits does not only apply to his family and friends.

My dear, he has proposed many times to you in casual conversation. Dreaming of a big wedding with a feast to serve hundreds. He displays tooth-rotting infatuation to you on a daily basis.

Kalim sends flowers and fruit baskets to your home weekly. He cherishes you like you've been dating for months, not years. The man is stuck in the puppy love stage but for him it isn't a 'stage'. It's simply how he will always be. The spark has not dimmed. He still hums as he knocks on your door, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and shoves his shoes off with super speed to tackle you in a hug.

Get it?

This is why you are not taken aback by the rapid knocking on your door. Kalim stopping by on impulse just to see you is not rare. Although, he normally would send a plethora of texts while on his way.

Even so. You don't hesitate to dry your hands from cleaning dishes, and speed walk to the door. You can hear his shoes tap against the outdoor floor in anticipation, and swing the door open with a smile.

On the other side, is Kalim down on one knee with a hand aimed to knock again. When he sees you, the largest grin spreads on his face. You don't even get to question why he is on the ground-

"Marry Me!"

Used to his excitable greetings, you laugh heartily and throw the dishrag in your hand over your shoulder. "Mhm. Mhm. I missed you too," comes out between chuckles, as you turn around so he can let himself in. You miss the way his face falls and his lips purse, before he grabs your wrist and yanks. You twirl and stumble forward, catching yourself on the door frame, hunched over with your wrist still in his grasp.

Kalim is resolute, and you can't help but gawk as he pulls out a ring wrapped in a gold, silk handkerchief from his pocket

"Marry Me," he says again, this time more firm. His ruby hues lock with yours, and he looks both at and through you at the same time, "I love you. I want you. Only you,"

He says no more. There is a lifetime for flourishes, but right now Kalim only wants you to know what is in his heart.

When you don't back away, he slips the ring over your finger. His heart hammers in his chest in a mix of jubilation and happiness. Not a moment later you are in his arms, tackled to the ground in the doorway of your home. Kisses being peppered up your arms from your ring finger to your lips.

{A bright pink diamond sits amidst a sunburst cut, and is surrounded by other pure diamonds on a silver band. The biggest expression of wealth and devotion. This ring costs enough to make you feint, but is chosen with purpose. Many say Kalim is like the sun. Yet in his eyes, you are his sun. There is no comparison. Only fact. Pink diamonds symbolize love, creativity, and romance. You are his sun, with all his love residing at the core. Also, it’s just really shiny}

If mystery was embodied in a man, it would be Jamil. You never know what is going on in Jamil's mind. Sometimes he slips. Rarely. If you can fluster him enough or find him when he hasn't slept in days. Otherwise Jamil is a brick wall when it comes to his true emotions.

Especially when it comes to you. He has always been exceedingly careful. He is still careful. He takes no chances, but he loves your game. The way you can pick him apart, and how he always has to be one step ahead. It’s challenging. It’s exciting. It’s love.

You see how he holds back. That he reigns himself in. In the few years you have spent at his side, you've learned to read him in ways that other people cannot. There are times when you get to see him become overcome with passion. When he is dancing, or when he is broom racing with his dormmates. When he is cooking a new dish or haggling prices on shopping trips.

When he confessed his feelings. It was the greatest surprise since being transported to a new universe. You had no idea how he felt. Not an inkling. Had he not said anything….well, you may have gone your entire time at NRC believing your affections were unrequited. He had no tells. Permitted none for himself.

On one hand, his ability to dilute his emotions has created many opportunities for surprises. Getting to see those little moments of passion; being one. Each action of his has a meaning that only you understand. Every glance as you pass in the halls, the brush of his fingers against yours as you sit together to study, being allowed to braid his hair even if it’s just to “keep you quiet”, all his little quips and murmurs being whispered into your ear instead of under his breath.

On the other hand, there are still barriers. Some closed tightly and no matter how hard you search for a key - there isn’t one. It was broken a long time ago and only Jamil himself can remanufacture it. Sometimes his resilience makes it hard to tell what he is planning…which can be lonely.

In your final year at NRC, many things are uncertain. This place is all you have ever known in Twisted Wonderland. With it being taken away…you do not have a floor to stand on. On the other hand, Jamil looks fine, if not *eager*, to graduate. Neither of you addressed what would become of your relationship after graduating. Jamil had thought of it, no doubt. He thinks of everything. You had as well, but were afraid to ask. When it came to the future, Jamil was always so resolute. He knew his path in life and planned to continue carving it.

The question hanging in the air being if you’d be chiseling alongside him, or in a different direction. Unknown to you, Jamil had this problem solved long before you began to wonder - and he was one step ahead. As always.

A ring. Unassuming and in plain sight, sat on the rim of the windowsill above the kitchen sink. How did it get there? You do not know, but it caught your attention as you cleaned up from breakfast. The morning sun glistened against the band, and you carefully picked it up to twirl between your fingers.

An engagement ring, but whose?

“Well, are you going to put it on or just stare at it?”

You jump and nearly drop the ring in the kitchen sink. In the reflection of the window you see Jamil, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed and his classic unamused deadpan. At your silence, he pushes off and comes to take the ring

“Last time I take advice from - ,” he grumbles and you miss the rest of it, too distracted with how he plucks the ring from your grasp, and holds your hand more gently than you ever thought he could. He stares down at it, content, and surprised you yet again with his tender touch“hmm…it fits. Good”

It slips on your finger smoothly, and he lifts your hand to wave in your face. This time, an unspoken communication passes between you. A promise that you are going to have a lifetime to pick apart those little mannerisms of his - and that he wants you to. He loves this game of secrets just as much as you do.

“Be my spouse. Go where I go, and we’ll be fine. Together….I can’t handle if you’re not near. I’ll lose my hair, do you want that? Want me to go bald?…come with me. You are the one happiness that I refuse to sacrifice,”

{ Rose gold with a floral cut and black gemstone accents. Jamil’s ring is small, unassuming, yet the closer you look the lore detail you will see carved into the gold band. You will note the little gems, upholding the core. Some pure as the ring’s heart and others a sharp contrast - drawing attention to the center. Jamil’s ring is somehow both modest and bold at the same time. A reflection of the giver}

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst #kalim al' asim x reader #twst kalim #twst kalim al' asim #twst jamil #jamil viper x reader #twst jamil viper #twst scarabia #proposal series

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stevethehairington · 1 year

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Robin works herself into a panic because there's this girl, and they've gone on a few dates now, and she's pretty sure this date is going to be the date — as in, the sex date — and she's nervous because she's never had sex before which means she's never eaten someone out before, and she, well, doesn't know how. Not outside of the few very basic mechanics of it all, but she doesn't want to be boring or fumbling. She wants to be good.

So, naturally, she goes to Steve for advice because, well, he does have a reputation. She's heard the whispers, and she knows that Steve takes pride in taking care of his partners (Eddie has made that plenty clear — probably too clear), so she knows they've got to be true. Besides, there's no way so many people would be saying it if it weren't at least a little true.

Robin doesn't beat around the bush (pun fully intended 😏), just sits him down and stands in front of him with her arms crossed and, with all the seriousness she can muster, tells him, "tell me everything you know about cunnilingus."

Steve teases her for using the technical term, but he does (after he gets her to spill why she's asking). He gives her tips and tricks and doesn't shy away from telling her what he's found works for his partners and what doesn't. He reminds her that every girl is different, so his advice isn't necessarily one size fits all — one may like this thing, while another may not, so she's just gotta be willing to try something out and make adjustments as she goes.

Robin thanks him profusely, and Steve tells her she better tell him all about how it went when he sees her next.

Now, I don't know if it would be funnier if:

Robin tells him beforehand that her date is with Nancy, so Steve gives her a few personalized tips, things he remembers Nancy really liking when he was with her. And a few days later Nancy Wheeler shows up on his doorstep with fruit basket and bright pink cheeks as she tells him "thank you." When he asks her what for, her blush spreads and she says crypitcally, "you know." It's then that he puts two and two together. (When he asks Robin if she told Nancy about their conversation, Robin says no. Which means that Nancy knew it was him based off of Robin's technique alone).

If Robin doesn't tell Steve who the date is with because she has a good feeling about this, and she doesn't want to jinx it. A few days later Steve finds a fruit basket on his porch with a little note that reads, "Thank you. You know what for. ;) - Nancy" and that is how Steve finds out that his two best girl friends are an item.

#platonic stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #ronance #stranger things

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ghouljams · 8 months

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PLEAAAASEEEEE just a lil knight smooch on the hand, even just a light kiss to her lock of her hair

EVEN JUST LOVE FILLED GLANCES PLEAAAAASEEEEEEE

or maybe medivel konig romance i am so lovesick i wamt to hear fluff aND UR DENYING US WITH GHOST KNIGHT YEARNING

OK but only because I'm really beating this poor princess down in two other asks.

You spend most of your day with Ghost, he's your escort for every outing, your companion for every event. You'd think you'd get tired of seeing him all the time but you never do. You love seeing him, and you think he likes seeing you too.

"Good morning," you smile up at Ghost as he comes near, your favorite part of your mornings.

"Morning," he pulls out the chair next to you, grabbing a thick slice of bread as he sits. You don't even need to ask your maids to set a place for him anymore, don't need to coax Ghost into joining you for breakfast. He leans his elbows against the table and breaks the bread apart between his hands, as he watches you.

"How'd you sleep?" You ask, too casual, he nudges you with his knee. "Did you sleep well?" You try again. He's worse than your old etiquette tutor sometimes.

"Same as usual, were you alright after the-" he pauses, clicks his tongue, like he's annoyed he doesn't have a polite word for it. He doesn't want to say "tantrum" but you know he's thinking it.

"I- yes. Thank you." You stare down at your hands, embarrassed. You're too old to be acting like that. Ghost stares at you a long moment before setting his bread on his plate. He reaches across the table to grab meat and fruit, filling your plate before you can stop him.

"Eat, you'll feel better." He plucks another slice of bread free of its warm basket and butters it. You watch him slide the little silver knife against the crumb and he stops, pointing the utensil at your plate. "Eat," he's not asking you.

You pick up your fork and knife to do as he says. You really don't know why you bother listening to him, you're in charge, not him. It's just that, you sort of like doing what he says, he always looks so pleased when you do. He doesn't even look at you when you take your first bite, but his eyes still smile and you know it's for you. His smiles are only ever for you.

"Good girl," He mumbles, sliding his bread onto your plate, neatly jam and buttered just the way you like it.

"You're free to leave," you tell your maids, glancing at them over your shoulder. You know they're hovering, waiting to refill your tea or bring another plate of food. You also know they're waiting for more information on last night's... fit. Gossips the lot of them. "You've left the pot, if I need more tea Ghost will serve me. Go."

The maids exchange a glance and drop to curtsy before scurrying out. You go back to eating. Ghost waits a beat before removing his mask and serving himself breakfast. You don't bother with glances or peaking at his face, you look. It's your right to look, he's yours after all.

"You're staring," he grumbles. Astute observation, you think with a smile. You know what he means, you spear a strawberry with your fork and pop it in your mouth.

"I'm eating."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," he hums, ignoring you in favor of his own meal. Does he know that you only breach etiquette to hear him correct you? Does he see you behave as a perfect princess for others and think he did that? No, you think he must know you're teasing him.

You set your fork down and reach to wipe away the crumbs that stick to his lip. Ghost catches your hand before you can touch him, his tongue darting out to do what your finger would have. His eyes hold yours, each of you waiting for the other to pull back. You don’t want to.

His lips are so much warmer than in your dream, softer, more substantial as Ghost bows his head to press them against your knuckles. You tilt your head, watching him turn your hand to kiss your palm and the delicate skin of your wrist. He looks at you with every promise in his eyes, and you love him for it.

"Good morning, my lady," he murmurs, holding your hand to his cheek. Your heart clenches, fingers curling against the stubble on his jaw.

"Good morning, my knight." You whisper back. The breath he lets out is almost pained, far too heavy for breakfast. He kisses your palm again, and you almost understand why before he drops it. I love you, you both seem to think at each other, I love you.

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the-sage-libriomancer · 6 months

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can't stop thinking about Ayame. he's such an outlier to the zodiacs in so many ways:

-the only (adult) zodiac member not living on Sohma grounds.

-the only zodiac member who genuinely likes themselves and actively practices self-love.

-the only zodiac member with a sibling in the zodiac.

-the only zodiac member Akito hasn't harmed either mentally or physically (because she can't stand him lmao).

all of it makes him feel weirdly isolated from the Sohma family's trauma and the story as a whole. he isn't under the Sohmas' thumb. he isn't bogged down by hatred or self-loathing. he's never experienced Akito's wrath the way the other zodiac members have.

and it's fascinating to think about how he must've had a completely different experience from the other zodiacs. when he was growing up, Akito hadn't hurt any of them - Shigure and Kureno both had immunity, Hatori never caused problems, and the rest of them were too young or too obedient. Ayame never hated himself, nor did he ever find himself alone and friendless. he moved far away from the Sohmas, started his own business to make his own money, and hasn't had them breathing down his neck in years. he has, for all intents and purposes, escaped the Sohma family and its mountains of trauma completely unscathed.

and you know. i wonder if that's something else Yuki hates about Ayame. that all of the zodiacs have a horror story about Akito - that Rin got thrown out a window and Hatori lost an eye and even little Kisa was beaten half to death, that Yuki himself had to endure years of intense isolation, psychotic episodes, and literal fucking torture at the hands of Akito -

and Ayame never got hurt.

not even once.

#i have a character analysis of ayame stewing in my drafts #he's the kind of character that makes me ramble like crazy #anyway i do wonder how much ayame knows about akito's reign of terror #bc it's possible shigure/hatori told him about drama in the main house #but it's also possible that they didn't #(either bc they were protecting him or bc they didn't think he'd care)#so like. how much does ayame know ab zodiac trauma at the hands of akito #he's literally never had to deal with akito in crazy mode #he might not know much ab yuki's time with her except maybe vaguely that it was Bad #does he understand what sort of shit yuki went through??? does he fully appreciate the EXTENT of it???#questions that keep me up at night #fruits basket #ayame sohma #yuki sohma #akito sohma #analysis #sage speaketh #edited for your convenience #(<-capitalized names and tweaked some wording)

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dmitriene · 2 months

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THOUGHTS ABOUT CAVEMAN SIMON AND VILLAGER READER.

synopsis: spring has come, and with it the time for sacrifices to someone, who lives far from people and scares everyone who pokes their noses into the forest, and what could be better than bribing the one you fear, so you were chosen as the one who will bear all the gifts deep into the forest.

cw: fluff, comfort, smut, possible dubcon, story set not in modern time and might be unrealistic, not based on real knowledge about cave people, possible ooc simon since he's a caveman, virgin reader, mentions of cannibalism (not in action), biting, licking, groping, simon is rough around the edges, pet names, cunnilingus with dubious consent, simon is inexperienced, male and female intimacy, many mentions of bare flesh, overstimulation, crying, aftercare, kinda kidnapping. pairing: caveman simon ghost riley x villager fem reader

author's note: this idea was born from an absolutely spontaneous conversation with @suimon, and i'm grateful to her, because without her encouragement i wouldn't decide to write such an interesting story, which is kind of new for me, but i still hope those who will read it enjoy, it's my first attempt on writing this kind of plot, that ended up being 4.5k words.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

long melted snow, allowing fresh green grass to break through the once dissipated white fluff of snow, bright flowers decorating endless meadows and forests surrounding the village exactly along the perimeter — all this brings with it spring, warm weather, fresh juicy fruits and vegetables, and after them the time for a sacrifices.

behind the forest clearing, where the trees become thicker and seem to be getting darker, lives one whose cave, the exact location of which not many people know, are afraid to approach, and you never heard the exact answer, the exact reason, but everyone was afraid of this place more than fire, but were justified by a man who was frightening to the point of trembling, as if they had seen a living ghost.

naturally, you had never seen him, and you treated his stories as if they were fairy tales — an attempt to intimidate the kids from going too far during walks, nothing more, or so it seemed to you, until you were chosen as the one who would go to him with the onset of spring with fertile gifts, an attempt to appease the so-called monster, which terrifies the entire village with its very existence, and you couldn’t understand why you should go to the one you’re afraid of, and also with gifts?

but one way or another, it was not in your authority to refuse the election of the head of the village and the people, so you were dressed up in the best dress from your meager wardrobe, the white fabric flowing to your feet seemed as soft as silk, an absolutely light linen, diluted a wreath woven from fresh, sickly sweet flowers, and in your hands a basket of the freshest fruits and vegetables, with a rope on your wrist, a thick plexus leading to the neck of a good, well-fed cow, the devil knows what he will do with the poor, as you would think, animal, but one way or another — your task is to give, even if you looked the most appetizing here.

walking through the forest is difficult, especially when, of all the attempts to navigate, you only have — “go straight ahead and stop when you see the cave„ and the only thing left to do is to listen, periodically stop when the cow bends down to nibble fresh grass, and then walk again until feeling of dull pain in the legs, due to the fact that making your way through trees and large branches with almost bare feet is uncomfortable, a little painful, and you have to pick up the white dress in your hands so as not to get it dirty, trying to maintain a festive look as possible, not drop the basket, and still get to this damned place.

more and more doubts creep into your head, maybe no one lives there at all, or does, but it’s just a wild animal, and villagers just couldn’t see it in the dark clearlier?

but it’s hard to believe that in the thicket, which every time becomes darker and denser, in which there are more and more bushes and broken branches, and somewhere where there are even tree trunks lying — someone really lives, and while thoughts are wandering around your head like a prodigal wind, and the path completely disappears under your feet, you finally reach the right place, meeting your eyes with a stone cave, assembled from stones in a stable structure, sprinkled with greenery, moss and tree trunks.

really someone’s abode, albeit open, and looking as if it could become your undoing.

even the poor animal seems to be enveloped in fear, the cow bursts into a loud moo, resting her hooves on the ground, and with all due respect, you cannot push such a weight behind you, but you will not let her escape, tying the poor thing by a rope and to a tree trunk nearby, allowing her to calm down a little, to be distracted by tufts of grass, while your gaze rushes forward into the darkness of the cave, and your legs tremble slightly.

— “well.. here i come, cave man, huh..„ slips from your lips encouragingly to your own self, although your voice trembles, but you cannot return to the village with the same full hands, and in any case, you will most likely be sent again after this, damn old people, so the only way is forward.

the branches crunch under your feet, it seems to you, until you notice glimpses of animal bones, and it’s as if you are tugging from the inside, your step immediately quickens, and you practically stumble, clutching the basket to your chest and swallowing nervously, saying in your mind over and over — “it doesn't belonged to someone, it doesn't belonged to someone„ but it didn’t get any easier, as if the deeper you went, the more terrible it became, there was only pitch darkness ahead, not planning to make way for you even for a second, so you walk, almost blindly, closing one eye and making your way with the other.

— “is.. is someone there? hello??„

your voice echoes against the stone walls, but it becomes clearer under your feet, and a little brighter ahead, so you continue to walk even despite the dead silence, step by meek step, getting out to the center of the cave, where the walls become wider, and your eyes get used to darkness, letting small details immediately scatter before your eyes — some kind of wooden cabinet, a small rectangular table with a single chair, and above it a shelf with plates, everything is just like in your own house in the village, however, the bed is not very similar to the usual one, full of skins, located quite low, and you hesitantly step deeper, saying

— “hey?.. i'm, uhm.. i mean no harm, hello? someone?„

your voice sounds a little quieter, patient, as you walk to the table and allow yourself to place that same basket on it, carefully adjusting it along with the vegetables and fruits mixed in it, before moving away, smiling at the more welcoming composition, besides, it decorated a small surrounding emptiness, you even forgot for a while that you were in a cave, you felt comfortable, until the moment you turned around, noticing a dark figure in the corner that turned around sharply, and you screamed uncontrollably.

a large, massive figure in the very corner of the cave turns to face you, demonstrating its immensity and body, hidden under only one piece of fabric, vaguely reminiscent of pants, but what catches you, or rather scares you, is the skull attached to his face, and the skull would be less frightening if it belonged to an animal, but the shape was human like, separated from the back and leaving only the front, somehow attached to a dark piece of fabric stretched over the man’s face, showing the world only his sunken, dark eyes.

simon overreacts to the sound, furrowing his brows and clenching his hands into fists that hang on either side of his wide hips, not liking it when someone barges in uninvited, especially like this, but watching you shake like a cornered rabbit , he softens, and at the same time resolutely begins to walk in your direction, without warning, which makes your heart jump right up to your throat and back into your chest when you calm a bit inside, but still take a couple of steps back from approaching figure.

— “uh, h-hi? i'm sorry, i must scared you.. i-i screamed pretty loud, yeah?„

you babble, the words fly out of your soft lips hastily and with an attempt to justify yourself, and he freezes, breathing somehow displeasedly through his nose and causing his bare chest to heave, but still, he grumbles somehow approvingly, tilting his head to the side, as if having mercy on you and giving the opportunity to justify yourself, and you don’t dare to miss it.

— “uh, i was sent from village, you know, not far from here! i brought you some fresh vegetables and fruits, and cow.. you know, that does moo„ the words come out in one breath, while you spin around, pointing first at the basket that suddenly appeared on his table, then towards the exit, talking about the cow, telling him about it as if you were talking to a child, as if mistaking him for a completely savage, and simon squeezes out a rough, dry laugh, crossing his burly arms over his wide, scarred chest, cutting off your explanations

— “i know what a cow is„

his voice is hoarse, tart like coffee beans on the tongue, and you stop, taking a deep breath.

simon has already realized that you are from that stupid village full of fools who take him for some terrible animal, but instead of the usual fear like in other people’s eyes, in yours he sees some doubt and sincere guilt, like in a child’s who was scolded by his parents, and this causes amusement in his gaze, a flutter in his light eyelashes

— “i'm, sorry.. it's just, the villagers acted like you are some kind of wild animal, and i.. i thought..„

the words get confused in your head and on your tongue, one way or another, you, even if not for long, believed to the words of the people living in the village, believed that he was less human than many, now trying to justify his honor and your words, standing under his gaze and trembling as if leaf in the wind, your legs shook as you squeezed them together, feeling his strange, ardent gaze where your plush thighs began behind the thin fabric, and goosebumps ran down your skin as his lips stretched into a wide, wild grin.

you stand before his eyes like a prettiest gift, a prey — you are shaking like a little rabbit, or a newborn doe, as if your legs are about to lose control of your weight and collapse on the stone floor, even though a carpet of someone’s skin lies under your feet, he wouldn’t want you to return back to the village in a deplorable state, or maybe you yourself were sent as a sacrifice?

he doesn't know, because you look incredibly attractive and alluring in that light outfit with just panties underneath, the silhouette of the fabric of which he can see on your hips before his gaze goes up to where your round, soft breasts are hiding under the finest cloth, and up to the strands of your hair, decorated with a wreath of fresh flowers, he knows it by the sweet smell and by the fact that he has already seen such in the forest, and simon has never tasted people, has not eaten human flesh — but looking at you, at the softness, at the sweetness, maybe he should give it a try?

— “i never tasted human flesh before„ words roll off his tongue in advance of rational thoughts, a rich baritone from the thin line of pale lips behind the fabric of the mask and the shape of the skull where he licks them like a predator.

and you are theprey, the one which trembles and whose eyes widen when you hear his unexpected speech, wild, causing the blood in your veins to freeze and your legs to obey the instinct of escape, and you take off from your place, turn around on the thin sole of your sandals and move your body towards the exit and impenetrable the darkness from which you came, which previously let you in — and will no longer let you go without the permission of its owner.

you can’t even hear simon’s steps behind you, because of how adrenaline is pumping in your ears and blood echoes like white noise in the background, as his figure wraps around yours like a shadow and pulls you, he clings to the light fabric with dirty fingers and squeezes with a heavy weight around your waist, first with his fingers, then with his hand, heavy bonds that drag you into the air and there’s no point in even twitching your legs, he immediately turns you around in his arms, places your soft flesh in his palms, relishing in the softness, warmth, fingers greedily kneading the soft, supple skin between his fingers on top of the now slightly stained fabric, pressing you into a cold stone wall as you close your eyes tightly.

your body is trembling, you’re waiting for the touch of someone else’s teeth on your body, a sharp flash of pain, surrendering to the clutches of creeping death in the guise of a person without resistance, having resigned yourself in advance, even on the threshold of this cave, even when the dark, densely trees swallowed you in the depths of the forest, but no pain comes, no sensation of rough, sharp teeth in the skin, just his hands that slide from your butt, where he shamelessly touched you, to your hips and thighs, tracing the skin and bones over your dress, forcing you to twitch, squeezing your legs together.

something inside you is twisting shamefully hotly, curling into a coil in your lower abdomen and setting all your nerve endings on fire, you still don’t look, your eyelashes and eyelids are trembling, and simon takes pleasure in your instinctive fear, akin to the animals he mercilessly catches in the depths of the forest, kneeling in front of you just as he once knelt in front of them, but you were distinguished from a dead animal by your vitality, sweet aroma, soft warm body which he wanted to taste until greedily accumulating saliva in his mouth.

— “pretty„

he growls low from his throat, causing you to flush with a flash of blush, your fingertips prickling nervously, it seems that he’s saying this from a sadistic point of view, not really to you, rather than to your body, to what he will eat, and you refuse to look at the eyes of your fear, even when rough, calloused hands run along your legs until he lays them on his broad shoulders, lifts up the dress that gets in the way, exposes the skin to your thighs and carelessly leaves them rumpled to dangle there, when his bare mouth pierces your skin and licks.

your eyes immediately widen following the hitching breath that flies through your parted lips, and you look at him, this beast, this man, standing in front of you on both knees, and even between your legs he seems immense, but strangely tender, when he licks and gently bites a path to your thighs along the soft flesh, pressing his nose into it, you see it’s slightly crooked form briefly, the black fabric falls to cover everything except his mouth, which greedily tastes you like no one has ever tasted.

his dark eyes meet yours fleetingly, yours are frightened, his are peaceful and satisfied, the corners of his lips rise forward and spread on his face, and you feel every movement of his lips on you in dangerous proximity as he crawls higher and higher, settling between supple thighs with his head, sticking his nose and mouth into a place that attracts him with sweetness and wetness, a small sticky spot on the thin fabric, into which he buries himself greedily, opening his mouth wide and licking the fat stripe along your panty clad pussy, burying his nose in your twitching clit and grinning at the reaction of your body, as well as at the quiet, ringing moan that arose from the depths of your throat.

the light, thin fabric gets wet from the amount of saliva in his mouth, mixing with the moisture that is released from your hot, bothered pussy, causing the gusset of your panties become almost transparent, as simon buries himself deeper, without asking, he just takes it, squeezing your thighs until there is a slight, uncomfortable pain burning on your skin, as your legs kick forward and attempt to squeeze together because of the new sensations that you don’t understand, didn’t experienced before, but he’s not going to let you escape just yet, but you squeak, a shushed, soft sound, which makes him soften nonetheless.

simon's gaze studies you through his light eyelashes, he sees the conflicting emotions on your face, how your chest is heaving, how moisture collects on your lash line, threatening to release and turn into tears, so his arms wrap around and squeeze your legs a little more carefully, stroking the soft skin with awkward, uncertain circular movements of his fingers, he hasn’t interacted with people for a long time, especially in the moments like these, when his face is buried between your thighs while he laps lightly against your panties.

fear slowly leaves your body along with rational thoughts, you lose your vigilance in the hands of a stranger, a person who shamelessly touches your private parts, but touches you so well, so carefully, igniting that warmth in the bottom of your belly more and more each time and allowing you to twitch, squirm as much as it possible while being held half in the air, thus only pushing your hips forward, towards his wet mouth, and shuddering with pleasure and new flashes when his nose nuzzles harder into your little clit, making your toes curl, and he growls.

— “so sweet„

comes out as a muffled growl, and you don’t know if he’s talking about you or your pussy, but he licks you more actively, making your folds stick to the absolutely wet fabric of your panties, while he slurps and sucks your folds and clit, his movements are messy, uncertain, he's been isolated from people and any contact with them with his own hands, but that doesn't stop him from having a taste, as his tongue runs between your folds and he continues to tease you with slow, exploring movements.

you make more and more unusual to yourself sounds, quiet moans, breathy mewls, wet squelches that he swallows whole as your hands find support on his head and you dig your fingers into his mask, as you grow more and more impatient in your movements, just in time when simon gets tired of this unnecessary, wet piece of fabric, a barrier to the sweetest fruit and nectar in his life, so he bares his teeth and clings to the waistband of your underwear, helping himself with his fingertips and tearing them away down your legs, exposing your fluttering, wet hole to his hungry eyes and mouth.

the mere sight leaves him swelling with hardness in his pants, and your gaze catches on the silhouette of his cock, leaning heavily against his meaty thigh and bulging against the thin fabric, one little sight had you swallowwing nervously before your eyes roll back from the sharp contact of his bare lips with your bare cunt, he swipes his thick tongue once, twice, licking your wet folds and slurping your juices as an endless source of quenching his thirst, he licks and licks until you begin to lose yourself in how long you've been in this position, where your folds and clit swell, and simon just presses himself unexpectedly deeper before suddenly diving in further.

a loud sigh and a whiny moan spread through the cave, his tongue curls at the tip, when he accidentally, but with pressure, pushes your folds apart and into your fluttering hole, his tongue flattens against your entrance, before licking and thrusting inside, into the warmth of your velvety walls that tighten around his muscle right there, and he growls with satisfaction, akin to a muffled purr, moving his head up and down, smearing his entire jaw and lips in your slick, surrendering fully to your softness and warmth.

every movement of his tongue inside leaves you trembling, your legs intuitively spread apart further along his broad shoulders, your hips find a natural rhythm and constantly buck forward with every lick of his fat tongue against your walls and his sucking on your clit, noticing what reaction it causes in you and trying to hear more of your absolutely innocent, wanton squeaks and moans, enjoying the knowledge that you act and feel this way because of his actions, so he presses his knees into the stone floor harder and leans forward further.

your stomach twists more and more, and you push his face away from you with sharp, broken whimpers, when his tongue touches your spongy spot again and again, your body seems to be engulfed in flames, your spine arches away from the wall, resting your entire weight on his face and curling over him, breathing loudly and shakily when the tip of his tongue thrust rapidly, abusing your sweet, spongy spot with his hungry, drooling mouth.

he only grunts as you lean your full weight on him, continuing his assault on your throbbing and clenching hole, alternating between grazing his tongue against your folds and clit, or thrusting his muscle deep inside your core in fast, albeit languid movements, just until your loud whimpers and hoarse mewls echo against his stone walls, and your stomach twists and turns as your body convulses in an unexpected feeling of sudden orgasm, cunt clenches and pulsates around his tongue, letting go of your sweet slick and milky cum for him to have, covering his chin and mouth in the huge amount of liquid that he actively drink and lap up, opening his mouth wide and licking you clean, drinking till the last drop.

simon doesn’t stop, as if not knowing the line, which he doesn’t really know, continuing to run his tongue against your slit and cling to your hole, as he sukles on your clit, your whole body is buzzing strangely, your head begins to ache from the endless pleasure and overstimulation that his actions and touches bring, making everything between your legs swell and tingle, you desperately claw his bare back with your hands, adding to the scarred canvas of his flesh, trying to push, resist, but he doesn’t care, right until a loud sob escapes your lips.

he reacts instantly, making something close to a questioning grumble before retreating slightly between your legs, licking his thin lips around the edges and all your fluids on your thighs, you hang on him like a sack of potatoes, trying to grab his back with your hands and at the same time not allowing him to move away from you normally, quietly, pitifully sobbing, which cause him to growl, and with a rough grip of his wide hands on your hips, unhook you from him.

simon holds you more carefully, more gently, his hands are still shamelessly squeezing and pawing your hips, going down to the swell of your plush ass, touching the skin and also pulling down your dress to cover you and provide you with the minimum comfort possible in your position, where your panties lie torn on the floor, and endless salty tears flow down your raw, cowered in slight blush cheeks, and he feels even more sympathy for you than all the times before, frowning his light eyebrows and pursing his lips.

— “don't cry..„

he mutters in frustration, carefully releasing one hand from under your butt to carefully wipe the wetness of tears from your cheeks, while you sniff your reddened nose, your head and body pulsating with a strange surge of fatigue, there's still an uncontrollable throb between your legs, and the very thought of this feeling makes you sad, as your eyelids gradually get heavier with a dissatisfied whine escaping from the depths of your throat.

— “shh„

simon whispers quietly, shamelessly moving his face closer to yours to lick your wet cheeks, making you frown and grimace, resting your hands weakly on his shoulders before he gently begins to rock you in his bulky arms and press you against his chest, changing your position so that he supports you under your knees and your back rests comfortably on his thick bicep, curling up, and you no longer care about everything that happens.

you were in a comfortable, floating state between sleep and consciousness, not struggling or scratching like most of the little preys he meet, allowing him to carry you carefully away from the far wall and to a place that vaguely resembled a human bed, full of soft animal skins and located closer to the floor, on which he lays you down and immediately wraps you in the warmth of various furs, fleetingly touching the top of your head while carefully stroking your hair, reaching to the already slightly tattered wreath with flowers and throwing it away somewhere, to which you don’t even react, on the contrary, you cuddle in response to his touch with your head and face.

this makes him chuckle hoarsely, a sound that makes your skin crawl, but he carefully lays you down more comfortably and strokes your warm cheek, going down to your shoulder and drawing the same awkward circles here with the tip of his finger until you are taken into deep sleep, first with your mind, then with your body, allowing your eyes to close and plunge into darkness in a place unfamiliar to you, going limp and burying your nose in fur that smells sharply of musk, something tartly foresty and reminiscent of him, plunging you even deeper and further in viscious sleep, following the rough whisper, that is contrasting with his careful, soft touches.

— “sleep well, my pretty sacrifice„

simon mumbles practically under his breath, his dark eyes following every flutter of your eyelashes and the sigh that slips from your parted lips, before making sure that you are in a deep sleep and getting himself up from his haunches, the movement is accompanied by a slight crunch of bones and a grumble from his lips, he looks around his own cave, a torn, damp cloth lying on the floor, a wreath with scattered petals and a basket with some sort of offerings on the table, which he will use later.

for now he rests his hands on his hips, licking his slightly dry lips and looking at the prominent weight between his legs, resting against the fabric of his pants and responding with warm, tingling arousal and slight drippling moisture, but he will take care of this later, for now, simon will collect all the unnecessary garbage from the floor and get it as far away as possible, and then take care of the cow you brought with you from the village, even if he doesn't prefer to use meat from someone else's hands, he can definitely let it pass now, because he will need to persuade you to stay with him, as soon as you wake up.

simon will not allow something like you to escape, he has denied himself contact and warmth for too long, and now, having touched the forbidden fruit, he knows one thing for sure — he will never let it go again and will not refuse it, so you are in his abode for a long time.

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