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like something holy

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Haurchefant is… odd. He’s genuine, endearingly eager. He’s kind, almost to a fault, and even upon Violet’s first meeting with him, he seems utterly taken with her. It’s enough to make a pang of guilt stab through Violet, for he scarcely knows her for her yet; only for her as the Warrior of Light, that heavy mantle on her shoulders.

Nonetheless, the more familiar he gets with her, the stronger his affections seem to grow. Whether or not he’s aware of it is a different matter in itself. It’s not something they talk about at first, this mutual interest of theirs; rather, they clumsily stumble through their feelings for some time, stepping around them like broken glass strewn across the floor.

Violet finds herself in Haurchefant’s private quarters rather often, even before they began their relationship in earnest, albeit tentatively. They’ll share a meal, a glass or two of wine. Sometimes it goes further — kissing, touching, rarely more than that, though. Sometimes they simply talk. Tonight is one such night.

“Your brothers,” Violet says, apropos of nothing, “they’re rather… mean to you, don’t you think?”

Haurchefant’s eyebrows raise, clearly taken aback. He waves a hand dismissively, placating. 

Violet doesn’t let him make excuses, cutting off any response he may have had. “You deserve better than that,” she says, gentle but firm. She leans in closer, almost too close, for he can feel her exhales against his skin.

Silence hangs heavy between them for a time, mere moments stretching on as the fireplace crackles. Haurchefant’s eyes flick between her lips, slightly parted as they are, and her eyes, sparkling with inscrutable emotion.

The tone shifts abruptly, their conversation forgotten for now.

“Kiss me,” she blurts out suddenly, passionately.

“That, I can do.”

Their lips meet, rather tentatively yet despite the kisses they’ve already shared. Violet, perhaps not content to let him set the pace, clambors into his lap on the chaise they’d been sitting on, deepening the kiss.

“Violet,” Haurchefant responds breathlessly when they part, a hand on her thigh, “will you please allow me an indulgence?”

“Depends,” comes her smug answer, for she knows where this evening is going. It wouldn’t be their first time.

“Allow me to kiss you” — his hand slides up along her toned thigh to rest between her legs, and keeps it there — “here.”

“How can I refuse such an impassioned request?” Violet responds, stealing another kiss upon his lips. “You may. On one condition.”

“And what would that be?”

“Let me sit on your face,” she responds, just as passionately. 

“Gladly.” Haurchefant says, tone rather victorious.

Scarcely do their hands (or lips, for that matter) leave each other for long enough to make completely undressing a feasible, let alone quick, task. In the end, Haurchefant pulls Violet into place above him, a finger hooking under her smallclothes to pull them to the side. A dewy strand of her slick sticks to the fabric, and Haurchefant eagerly licks it away.

His hands splay over her rear, careful of her tail as he pulls her down to him insistently. He drinks her in as if taking communion, suckles at her clit. Her breath hitches as she breathes in deep, trying to compose herself; Haurchefant makes it his goal to unravel her composure, messily lapping along her folds until her arousal smears itself onto his chin and cheeks. Violet lets out an indecent wail, surely loud enough to hear throughout the manor, as Haurchefant slips his tongue inside her, nosing at her clit.

“Oh, Haurchefant, I’m close, I’m close,” she mewls after some time, spoken between heavy exhales, her hips beginning to rock insistently against him, both hands tangled in his hand.

With renewed determination, he brings her to completion eagerly, lips and tongue working until his jaw aches, for it is but small price to pay it is for the sweet sounds leaving her lips. Violet comes with a shout, thighs tensing around his face, her tail quivering in bliss.

She rolls off him bonelessly into the spot next to him, careful not to make a mess of the chaise. “And you…?” she asks after a moment, not lost on the realization of the tent in Haurchefant’s trousers.

“Will you indulge me some more selfishness, Violet? Your hand, your mouth… I’d be blessed to feel your touch, regardless of how.”

Violet wriggles out of her smallclothes, now soaked with her slick. “You can have more than that.”

Romantic (and rather impulsive) as ever, Haurchefant scoops her up in his arms, drawing a surprised squeal from Violet, as he carries her to his bed and sets her down carefully. “Better, right?”

Violet’s ears twitch fondly. “Hurry up and undress,” she says, with no bite to it at all.

And so he does.

Once he settles on the bed between her legs, he takes Violet’s hand in his own, and with a kiss to her palm, he presses into her. 

“You feel divine, Violet… I could stay like this forever,” Haurchefant sighs, his face now buried in her neck. He inhales deeply, as if committing her scent to memory, then mouths at her neck, tracing a line down to her collarbone.

“Stay,” Violet responds breathlessly, “stay then.”

“Would that a priest were to pass through Camp Dragonhead, I’d wed you right here and now.”

Violet regards him for a moment; he seems to be genuine in his sentiment, not simply clouded by lust. Rather than dwell on it, she arches an eyebrow at him despite the flush blooming on her cheeks at his ingenuity. “We can save this conversation for when your cock isn’t inside me, darling .”

“Your wish is my command,” Haurchefant proclaims, and then his lips seal themselves over hers as he begins to rock his hips into her, slow, deep, steady. His pace becomes frantic soon enough, his restraint crumbling away. 

" Gods, ” Violet wails, all too soon, “I’m nearly there.” Her voice is tinged with desperation and her breath coming short.

As if determined to bring the stars from the night sky down to burst behind her eyelids, a hand snakes between their bodies to rub tight circles around her clit, just the way he knows she likes.

“Halone, forgive me, for you are the only altar I wish to worship at, Violet Roda.” 

And just like that, she comes, biting down on the meat of her palm to keep her scream muffled. Haurchefant fucks her through her orgasm, until the fluttering and clenching of her muscles around him sends him over the edge as well, pulling out to spill over her stomach. He pants heavily as he regains his composure.

“Just a moment,” Haurchefant says as they disentangle reluctantly from each other, and he rises to his feet. He returns with a wet cloth, wiping her clean with a certain degree of reverence. “Will you stay?”

Violet hesitates, unwilling to put him into an unfavourable position, for they have yet to tell a single soul about their relationship. “Just for tonight,” she amends, allowing him to pull her close, their bodies slotting together as he pulls the quilts adorning the bed around them to stave off the Ishgardian chill.

Her limbs grow heavy with sleep and satisfaction, and a sense of security that only Haurchefant can provide. 

As she drifts off to sleep, her heart thrums with affection. I love you, I love you, I love you.