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#that game is forever burned in my head
thebigolbee · 11 months
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Stoked to hear about LISA: Definitive Edition, really looking forward to the new music especially. I dug up some of my old Beltboy sketches to celebrate. Maybe now we can manifest news for LISA: The Hopeful 2…
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secretsimpleness · 1 year
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But I just want to explore the world... Jamandi Aldori, the (to be) Baroness, Amiri, Jaethal, etc / Pathfinder Kingmaker (c) Owlcat Games
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torchiiko · 1 year
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i need Enrichment i need Immersion i need to get incredibly engrossed in smth and lose hours and hours to it befor ei go Nnuts before the shadows creep in and i am infected by the disease of the night yet again
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aashi-heartfilia · 5 months
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The hypocrisy of Jinshi and MaoMao
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*light novel spoilers*
I just love how hypocritical MaoMao's nature is. She yells at Jinshi for being a 'Masochist' and yet we see that she's no different. Now, by definition Masochist is a person who drives sexual gratification from their own pain and humiliation, plus it relates to Jinshi's tendency to do self harm (like burning his skin with a brand)
And what is MaoMao's most favourite thing in this world?
POISON
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She literally takes pleasure in consuming it and no one can convince me otherwise. Plus she uses dangerous plants and animals and snakes whatnot in the name of her so-called experiments. Her dad may call her a 'mad Scientist' but that is a direct indication of self harm.
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And she calls Jinshi a Masochist.
I mean, think about it! The amount of anxiety she gives to Jinshi! She came prepared with a vomit inducing medicine but even she had no idea whether it would work or not. She was just hoping it would work in the salt chapter.
And the same goes for her hand, on which she has conducted countless experiments. One flower even burned her skin and its marks never left her skin. She said it was all for her hobby. What kind of weird hobby is that? Maybe, our little adorable mad scientist is just like that.
One brands his own skin, while the other takes heavenly pleasure in consuming poison.
So my point is, Jinshi and MaoMao are not that different as one might think they are and that's why their dynamic works so well.
Let's look at the excerpts from volume 5:
She didn’t know how long they sat that way. All she knew was that Jinshi was looking down at her with a faintly triumphant expression, as if he saw that the breath had reached every corner of her body now. He wiped away the tears that had sprung to her eyes as she struggled to breathe. It was then that Maomao felt a flash of intense anger. “I said that if you were going to kill me, you should do it with poison,” she told him. “I refuse to let you poison yourself,” Jinshi said, his fingers tracing her lips. “You can’t pretend you didn’t know that you were one of the candidates. As much as I’m sure you’d like to.” He wasn’t done, either: “Who was that man, anyway? I’m sure you’re not a dancer.” So he had been watching them! “I was just paying for my drink,” Maomao said. “It didn’t cost much.” She tried to look away, but with his hand on her head, she really couldn’t.
Jinshi just choked her and yet he refuses to let MaoMao poison herself. A lot of people misinterpret this scene, and don't like it all that much, saying it was just fanservice stuff but this is how I see it: Jinshi wasn't trying to kill MaoMao, he was just trying to make MaoMao submit to him for once (even if the way he did it was very wrong, but guess he's kinky like that). MaoMao is actively trying to harm herself and Jinshi loves MaoMao a lot, he cannot just let her kill herself.
It was more about him trying to exert his dominance in their weirdish - complicated relationship and that also backfires on him as we see in the next volume that MaoMao escapes Jinshi's grasps using Pairin's techniques.
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And then they both continue to avoid each other in the entire next volume! Because they both realised that they have crossed boundaries.
They both are hypocrites.
And they both refuse to accept their feelings.
In one of the later volumes, she gives Jinshi a piece of her mind on how he should tell her everything clearly, unequivocally, what he feels, and he literally declares that "he will make her his wife", which is nice and all but look at the wording MaoMao used here....
Excerpts from LN Vol 7, chapter 19 called "A man and a woman play the game"
"You’re forever telling me I need to use my words, Master Jinshi, but are you in any position to criticize? Everything you say to me, everything you do, it’s like it’s calculated to save you from ever having to actually say what you mean! To make me figure it all out! You know, you remind me of someone. You act exactly like a man who used to come by our brothel all the time. He was in love with one of the girls, but he would never just come out and say it. He thought it should be obvious from the way he acted. He was so sure he had a good thing going with this woman that he never sent her so much as a letter. I remember how forlorn he looked when someone else swooped in and snatched her away! He kept coming to the brothel after that—to get drunk and whine to the ladies. Well, in my opinion, he could have avoided all that heartbreak if he’d told the woman how he felt. Clearly, unequivocally, so that she knew where they stood. It was the least he could have done!”
Everything came out in a torrent. She felt like she’d said it all in one breath. It was strange, she thought, to hear so many words come out of her own mouth. She was mystified. Jinshi was no less startled, but the shock soon left his face, replaced by something else. He got up off the bed and stared down at Maomao.
Shit. Now I’ve done it. She’d given him a piece of her mind, and he was about to give her one back.
“So I should be clear, should I? Unequivocal? I should say what I mean? If I did, would you actually listen to me? Is that what you’re telling me? I’m going to hold you to that! Right this minute. I’ll say it all. Don’t plug your ears—listen to me!” He grabbed her hands as she was in the process of trying to put her fingers in her ears. He took a breath. He was looking at Maomao, but somehow he seemed almost embarrassed. Finally he managed, “Now listen to me, y—I mean, Maomao! Listen close! I am going to make you my wife!”
It's one heck of a chapter and I suggest you give it a go! The title of the chapter says "A man and a woman play the game" as if to emphasize the very fact that both Jinshi and MaoMao are playing the game.
Jinshi has never confessed his true feelings before this chapter and only implied that he wanted to make MaoMao his wife.
The implications were heavy though on Jinshi's part, and as smart as MaoMao is, anyone would have guessed that MaoMao was one of the candidates for Jinshi's consort. Even the clothes she received (the ones she wore to the banquet) were also provided by Jinshi along with the hairpin. It is never stated outright but seeing as the hairpin was from Jinshi, the clothes are also implied to be the same.
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More or less she's always deliberately ignoring the possibility of having anything to do with him, that is more than professional. Some may call it denial, I call it dense. Maybe, to some extent, she herself is not aware of her feelings because she never lets herself feel anything.
Even Suiren pointed it out pretty early in the manga, that maybe it's MaoMao's way of being reserved. We need to keep in mind that MaoMao is an unreliable narrator and it's more of what she does, rather than what she says that makes a difference.
Even in the chapter that I have quoted above, she had every reason to leave Jinshi, she wasn't working for him after all. But she stayed to make tea for him, even after the fact that she had a long day too. She was almost just as exhausted as Jinshi and yet she was there preparing medicinal tea, so that he could get a better sleep.
Maybe she herself is yet to realise just how deep her feelings run. Till vol 12 she seems to have accepted them, but she still is yet to acknowledge their depth. Maybe it's because of her childhood.
It's not a traumatic backstory but MaoMao had a sad childhood nonetheless....
She was raised by her grand uncle and her real father was eccentric, who scared her. Her mother must also appear to be kind of demonic to her, since she was desperate enough to cut MaoMao's Pinky finger and send it to Lahan. So it's safe to say that MaoMao never received proper parental affection. And adding to the fact that, a brothel is not exactly an ideal place for raising a child.... especially when the birth of MaoMao was the one thing that brought the brothel to its knees...even if being born wasn't her choice.
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Plus MaoMao stated it herself that when she was a baby, no one would come to sooth her until their work was finished, implying that even if MaoMao and her brothel sisters are close, they are not that close. A mother's love is different and she never received it. No one can love you more than your mother and MaoMao was deprived of that. She soon realised that no one was coming. Life is hard and she has no choice but to face it!
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So, she got interested in poison.
Maybe she doesn't love herself or her life as much as she says / pretends she does. She's always like "yeah, I would very much like my head to be with my body" and "if I stay low profile maybe I can survive here" etc but maybe deep down that's not the case. Maybe that's why she loves poison so much. The implications are crazy.
And to break MaoMao's shell, Jinshi has no choice but to be a bit more forceful at times? At least that's how I interpret that choking scene. Jinshi was angry at MaoMao because she deliberately suggested him to marry consort Rishu and danced with Rikuson.
Even if Jinshi never said it outright, he was giving hints the entire time.
But well the tables turned and MaoMao topped him instead, lol (vol 7) and later we even see that our little stray cat has accepted Jinshi and she's ready to be in a relationship with him (vol 12).
Plus she is intrigued by the process of birth (she wants to eat her baby's placenta, it's kind of uggghhh.... but anyways, that MaoMao we're talking about, she's just weird that way)
Maybe not after too long she'll realise that if she has to give birth, she can only have it with Jinshi and no one else.
~Sunshine
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msgexymunson · 7 months
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Shotgun
Description: you're on a camping trip with your two friends, and the scariest guy from school: Eddie Munson. A few beers and some weed change the way you look at him however. Maybe he's not so scary after all. Cocky, oh yes, but not scary. Especially the way your legs start to squeeze together at the sight of him. But, does he like you, or is this some cruel game to play on the innocent band geek? 
A/n: do I have 10 WIPs? Yes. Do I have requests I'm working on? Also yes. So logically, I started a one shot from a smutty dream I had, that turned into a freaking long one. Enjoy!
Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll feed you to the fishes. Very smutty, a bit of angst, hella fluff! Reader is AFAB, cocky!experienced!Eddie x Virgin!band geek!fem!reader, very slight dub con in the beginning (touching over panties, explicit consent not given), female fingering receiving, dry humping, female oral receiving, p in v protected sex. 
❤️Reblogs are what keep me going; they keep Tumblr going, and my little black heart beating. Reblog my work and I'll love you forever sweetheart. ❤️
12.5k words (oops) 
Masterlist
"You know you guys can't handle this shit!" 
Eddie laughs, nearly spilling the beer cradled in his hand. 
Steve rolls his eyes, chucking his beer top into the campfire you guys had set up for the evening, the paint sparking briefly. 
"Come on Munson, pass it round, quit being a bitch." 
"Yeah Eddie, share the love!" 
Robin giggles as she clutches her chest dramatically. Shaking your head, you shift uncomfortably on the ground. It's not that you haven't been around this sort of stuff before, people you weren't too keen on have smoked once in your company. It wasn't even a moral thing, you were just a little scared of the effect. That, and the fact you were sitting right next to Eddie Munson. 
Eddie, the guy you've literally been frightened of since you saw him leaping on tables in the cafeteria. That was some time ago, and Robin had assured you he was a good guy. You trusted her judgement completely, hence why you'd even considered going camping with the three of them for the weekend. It didn't help the fact that you were just a band geek, not used to these sorts of get togethers. Hell, your closest friends played chess for fun. This was so out of your comfort zone that you felt like a deer in headlights. Only a week ago you had your first beer, at 21; the proper age. Now you were sucking back a brew in the woods at night, sitting next to the drug dealer of the area. 
It could just be the beer talking, but Eddie looks good right now. Every time he shook his mane of hair out of his face it had you biting your lip. He threw his head back when he laughed and the sight of that stretched neck of his had you clenching your thighs, feelings bubbling up that you'd never felt before. 
So when his hand reached out and his fingertips grazed you, a blunt pressed between his thick ringed fingers, you gasped, pulling your hand away as if it had been burned. 
"Come on, take it." 
Your tongue feels thick and swollen, sticking to the roof of your mouth. Words. Think of words. 
"Can't you, erm, pass it the other way?" 
"No, it always goes to the left sweetheart." 
Sweetheart.
Glad the low light hides your blazing cheeks at the pet name, you dip your eyes downward for fear of them exposing you. You played the flute for Christ's sake. This was not your thing. 
"I-I, well, I-" 
"You not smoked before?"
Robin's voice cuts through the myriad of noises in your head, making you turn violently. 
"I just, I never-" 
"Look at me." 
Those words from him sing through your nerves, making you forget any thought you had, or anticipated. As you turn, Eddie's dark eyes bore into you. 
"You trust me?" 
No. A thousand times no.
"Yes." 
"Come here." 
He shifts and gets up on his knees, joint pressed between pouting lips as he lights it again, the cherry blazing almost as hot as your blood right now. You mimic his movements, rising on shaky thighs to kneel in front of him. 
"Right, I'm gonna take a pull, and blow the smoke, when I breathe out, you breathe in, 'kay?" 
His words are sweet, and a little condescending, an edge of talking down that just stirs up your insides further, guts a puddle. 
"Okay." 
He cups his hands to his face, gesturing for you to do the same. Raising your shaking hands, you touch them delicately with his. He flips his hands so they are on the outside, cupping yours, pushing them together with a lot more force than you did. 
He's close, so close. Your breath hitches in your throat, those deep eyes a couple of inches from yours. Heat radiates from his body, your skin itching almost from its blistering warmth. That could just be from the fire. Or the fire in between your legs. 
He smells good. There's weed there, sure, and the beer you've all been drinking, and some aftershave you couldn't place, maybe bergamot? An undercurrent lies beneath it all, of man and skin, that makes your toes curl. 
He breathes into you then, the swirling smoke trying to escape your cupped hands. 
You inhale deeply, focusing on the feel of Eddie's rough hands, on his touch. You breathe in until there's nothing left and hold it. His eyes don't leave yours, sparkling in the fire light. 
The exhale hurts more. Breathing out smoke, you revel in the fact you didn't cough or startle. The feeling of him letting go of your hands is far worse. 
A ringing, whooping noise finally reaches your ears, between the sound of your own blood pumping. Robin and Steve are cheering like morons, but your gaze doesn't leave Eddie. 
"There you go. Good girl." 
Damn. 
A sharp intake of breath pulls into your lungs and straight to your heat. The pure shock and desire those two words drew from you have you dropping backwards, butt slamming into the pine needle dusted ground. 
"Hey you OK?" Robin's hand on your shoulder distracts you briefly and you flash a weak smile. 
"Sure, just went to my head a little, I'm good." 
Eddie's hand reaches over you, passing the blunt to Robin. You dare not look him in the eye, fearful that everything you felt was written all over your innocent face. Out of your periphery, you can tell he's facing you. Suddenly the fire was extremely interesting. 
Robin has a couple of tokes, and tries a third when Steve waves at her. 
"Quit hogging it!" 
"OK, don't get your panties in a twist!" Passing it to Steve with a loud huff, he takes it and breathes deep. And promptly coughs his guts out. 
Robin and Eddie cackle, and even you can spare a giggle at the irony. 
"Told you Harrington. Even the little band cutie took it better than you!" 
"Fuck off Munson." 
Hell, he knows who I am. And he called me cute.
This is Eddie. Scary, metal head, drug dealer Eddie. Eddie who all of a sudden stirs your insides up and makes your head dizzy. Eddie who you now realise is actually goddamn gorgeous. 
Eddie takes a hit and turns to you. 
"You wanna try smoking it sweetheart?" 
Heart hammering in your ribs, you manage to speak. 
"C-can you do, that thing, again?" 
His smile is dipped in sin as he scoots nearer to you, and you copy him. Suddenly this seems more intimate, sitting on the ground, twisting to face each other, inches away. He takes a hit and holds it, gesturing at you to lean closer. The way he tilts his head, you could almost believe he's going to kiss you. This time, he cups your face, blowing smoke at you. It's so close his lips brush yours ever so softly. 
You're not sure if your inhale was intentional or a shocked gasp, but in the smoke goes. 
Did he mean to do that? 
One look into his eyes tells you yes. There's a cockiness to his grin, the devil dancing across his face. 
So, did he do it because he likes you, or is he just messing with you? Only Eddie knows the answer to that. 
You exhale, less than an inch from his full lips. Time stops. That is until Steve and his loud mouth break the spell. 
"Come on, get a room you guys!" He practically yells, throwing a twig in your direction. 
You snap your head away from Eddie and stare at Steve with wild eyes. 
"I-I wasn't, we- we weren't-" 
"We weren't? Well, that's a damn shame."
As you glance back at Eddie he's leaning on propped up elbows, looking so sure of himself that it's annoying, bordering on making you angry. 
Cheeks flooding with warmth, your mouth forms words without checking with your brain first. 
"Y-you know what you are Eddie?" 
He tilts his head at you, still smirking, and gestures a hand willing you to continue. 
"A cocky mother fucker." 
The grin falls from his face as he looks at you in shock. Robin and Steve practically piss themselves laughing at your sudden outburst. 
"Shit Eddie you better watch out!" Robin laughs out. 
"Yeah, that kitty's got claws dude." Steve agrees. 
Embarrassed at your own words, you risk glancing at Eddie. You were expecting him to be upset, angry even. That's not the case; he looks impressed. 
"Shit, yeah, I can see that. Didn't know you had it in you sweetheart." 
Smiling to yourself, you stretch your legs and wiggle your feet. You impressed him. Your turn for a smug smile. 
Pretty soon the high starts to settle in; a warmth seeps through your bones and a tingle spreads from your head into your body. It feels like you're quivering whilst sitting still. Steve offers you another beer but you turn it down, well aware that being too foggy right now would be a bad idea. Especially since Eddie has been creeping closer. Now you're side by side, hips so close any time he moves he brushes against you. 
The fire dies down, turning to embers. The beer coat has vanished, leaving you shivering. Steve and Robin are already under a blanket; you can see Robin's eyes are close to closing. 
"You ok there sweetheart? Cold?" 
"I-I'm O-OK." 
"No you aren't, you're shaking." 
Without a further word he's taking off his jacket and putting his arm firmly around you. Whatever space there was between you has melted away, sides now flush. 
You could say the same for your face. This may well be the closest you've been to a boy. Well, a man. He drapes the jacket over the pair of you, covering your crossed legs and his lap, and rubs his hand smoothly up and down your arm to warm you. Little does he know how much he's warming your insides, each stroke sending a buzzing desire through your limbs. 
Steve's chatting away; yet another story about Dustin spilling from his lips when you feel Eddie's other hand snaking underneath the jacket, coming to rest on your thigh. 
Eyes wide, you flick your gaze towards him. 
"What are you doing?" You whisper urgently. 
"Just warming you up sweetheart." 
He says it so sweetly, yet it belies the movements of his hand, moving further up your leg to run soft circles just underneath the hem of your skirt. 
You can't hear a word Steve is saying, unable to concentrate on anything but Eddie's touch and the whooshing blood in your ears. No one had ever touched you like this, not once.  
Robin's shrill voice breaks through the fizzing in your head; once again her and Steve are arguing over something. You might have heard Vickie being mentioned but you can't be sure. 
Eddie's hand trails higher, within reach of your panties. Breath catching in your throat, you mean to admonish him but all that comes out is a breathy noise. 
"Eddie…" 
He rests his chin on your shoulder, hot breath fanning your ear. 
"You want me to stop?" 
You don't answer, you can't. You're frozen, unable to move, unable to make a sound lest a moan escape your lips. 
He wouldn't dare, not with Steve and Robin here, would he?
He would. 
Eddie runs a finger gently down the front of your panties. The softest touch, a whisper of a thing. Then he does it again, up and down, pressing the cotton of your briefs into your private parts. 
You can feel your insides fluttering, a burning settling between your legs, being stoked by every barely there touch. Suddenly, he presses down on something that has you softly whimpering and clenching at nothing. A tingle shoots down your legs to the tips of your toes. 
You hear a small noise; it's Eddie chuckling in his throat. It snaps you out of your frozen state and you move to get up. 
"I'm going to bed guys." 
Standing abruptly, you let Eddie's jacket fall from you as he scrambles to keep it over his own lap. 
You turn to your tent and hear Steve and Robin wish you goodnight, and mumble about going to bed soon too. 
"Night guys!" 
"Want any company sweetheart?" 
There he is, sitting with that arrogant look on his face. 
"Goodnight, Eddie." 
You say it firmly, even though your resolve is as substantial as tissue paper. Stomping over to your tent, you turn on your camp light and sit on your double inflatable bed, hugging your knees. 
Now that you're alone you realise how much that weed affected you. You feel airy, light as a feather, fingers and toes still tingling. 
It must be the drugs. 
You focus on the reality of the situation. You just let some guy touch you down there. Eddie Munson touched you over your panties. 
So why weren't you scared? Or angry at him? It's not like he asked. The fact is that  no one's done anything like that to you before, and it felt incredible. Left you aching for more. That thought was making you more frightened than anything else. 
You listen to the group slowly pad their way off to bed, rustles of clothing, mumbled 'goodnights', and tent zips. 
To the left of your tent was the huge six berth Steve had brought for him and Robin. It was fancy, you assume he 'borrowed' it from his parents. On the cusp of hearing there was bickering. You don't know how Robin and Steve became friends, or how they maintained it since they acted like an old married couple most of the time, but it seemed to work. After a few minutes soft snores echoed from the two of them. 
No sound comes from the other side, where Eddie had pitched a little coffin tent. You wonder if he's still sitting by the dying embers of the fire. He's probably smoking. 
Stop thinking about him.
You undress, only pulling an oversized t-shirt on to sleep in since your big sleeping bag is so warm. You'd bought a double one with your birthday money last year because you hated feeling restricted. It was a luxury but with all the camping you did it just made sense. Snuggling into its spacious depths, you attempt to quiet the raging hormones coursing through your veins. 
God, why is he so annoying and smug? It burned you up, but you couldn't deny how much it turned you on. 
You slide your hand between your legs, pressing hard to try and quench the fire. He did something, you're sure of it. This wasn't natural for you, movements unsure and bordering on clumsy. When you run your finger through your naked folds you whimper, and see how wet you are. Gasping, you explore further, and find that spot, a hidden nub that sends a bolt of lightning to your core. 
"Oh fuck," you breathe out in a moan, starting to rub up and down. 
"You alright in there sweetheart?" 
Oh shit, he's right outside the tent. Was he there the whole time? 
"Yeah, what do you want?" 
"I'm cold, can I come in?" 
No.
"Y-yeah." 
He unzips the tent and enters, crouching to accommodate his height. Closing the tent up, he takes in his surroundings, letting out a low whistle. 
"Pretty sweet set up you've got here, your folks rich or something?" 
"No, I just do a lot of camping with the troop." 
"Huh?" He looks confused, falling to his knees to look you in the eyes. 
"The girl scouts, I volunteer as a leader." 
The laughter that comes from him is loud and rich. 
"Fuck, you got that little innocent act down don't you?" 
It's your turn to look confused. 
"What on earth are you talking about Eddie?" 
He scoffs at you, clearly not buying it. 
"The cute little band geek thing, helping out with girl scouts. Shit, the whole 'can you do that thing again?' " He mimics your words from earlier and you flush crimson. 
"Eddie, I honestly don't know what you're going on about. I never smoked before, I hadn't even had a beer before my 21st last week. I've never even- no one's done what you did, outside." 
Eddie's jaw may as well be on the floor. 
"You're fucking with me." 
You shake your head, lips pressed tight. 
"Well, now I feel like an asshole." He huffs out, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. 
"Well maybe you should, you never asked." 
"I'm sorry, I just- I thought you were one of those freaky band kids. You kept looking at me like you were gonna eat me alive, I thought I was in for a rough night." He laughs, shooting a gaze at you. 
"Well you thought wrong." You turn your head, arms crossed firmly over your chest. 
"I'll go if you want. Want me to leave?" 
Yes. 
"No." 
A smile spreads slowly across his face, and he inches closer to you on his hands and knees, palms splayed on the foot of your air bed. 
"So, you want me to stay?" 
"No." 
"So… should I sleep in the doorway?"
A fair question, considering your answer. You laugh, looking back at him. His smile is softer, much less mocking. It's sweet almost, sanding down your rough edges. 
"Yeah, you can be my bodyguard. Protect me from bears and mountain lions and stuff." 
He chuckles and climbs over; you lay back on instinct, further away. Leaning right over you, his face is an inch from yours, hair tickling your cheek. 
"You know, I could protect this beautiful body of yours better if I was in the sleeping bag with you." 
"You don't give up, do you?" You whisper into his skin, sounding braver than you felt. 
"It was the sweet and innocent thing, did me in." 
He plants a soft kiss to your cheek, brushing your skin, and another, to the corner of your mouth that makes you shiver. 
"Tell me to stop." 
"Eddie, kiss me." 
His mouth is on your then, hot and heavy, tongue begging at your bottom lip. You give him an inch and he takes a mile, tongue sliding against yours with practised movements. Not expecting the full force of his kiss, you suddenly realise you're moaning into his mouth, hands coming to wind into his loose locks. 
He breaks away, chuckling at the way you chase his lips. 
"You know, you don't kiss like a good girl." 
Merely whining in response, you try to catch your breath. 
"So, can I get in the sleeping bag? I'm freezing out there." 
"Fine, just, no funny business." You point your finger at him, gasping when he licks it long and slow. 
"Nothing you don't want me to do." He winks, and pulls his t-shirt over his head. 
"What are you doing?" 
He ignores you, pulling his socks off and  unbuttoning his jeans. 
"I'm getting undressed. Why, expect me to sleep in my jeans?" 
You merely screw your nose up in response. Stripped down to his boxers, he clambers his lithe body onto the sleeping bag with you, all elbows and knees. Sighing, you move over to accommodate him but he wraps his arms around you. 
"Eddie, what-" 
"I'm cold sweetheart, just, warm me up a little?" 
Your heart is hammering in your ribcage with the realisation that you're entirely out of control of this situation. You allow him to hold you, and hesitantly rest your arm over him. Your head is snuggled into his neck, feeling more comfortable than you had any right to be. 
"Eddie, your legs are freezing." 
"I know! I wasn't lying, my sleeping bag's shitty." 
He pushes his thigh between yours, and you remember a split second too late that you're not wearing any bottoms. Suddenly, his bare thigh is pressed against your naked heat. You're praying to any Gods that might be listening that he doesn't notice, attempting to stay as still as possible. 
He's warming up slowly, but you're stiff as a post, trying not to focus on his thigh and the slight pressure it's putting on your most delicate parts. 
"So, you gonna tell me what you were doing sweetheart?" 
"What?" You whisper into the soft skin of his neck.
"Well, I came out of my tent to see if you were still awake, and imagine my surprise when I heard moaning." 
"N-no, I wasn't!" 
"Quit lying, I can feel your cunt on my leg." 
You nearly choke on your own saliva. 
"Eddie, you can't just say that!"
You hit him on the chest. He just laughs, dragging your little fist to his mouth to kiss it. 
"I can when you're soaking my leg." 
Opening your mouth to respond, all words escape you. Especially when he grinds his thigh against your folds. Instead of words, a whimper breaks from your lips. 
"Yeah? That good sweetheart?" 
The smugness is back, but you can't find it in you to care, not when he rocks his hips and the force of his leg sets loose a roll of pleasure. He's hard, it's pressing into your hip. 
A lean arm curls around you, his thick thumb finding its way to your chin to lift it upwards. You stare into his darkened eyes as they dart to your lips and back up. 
All resolve is dissolved like ash in the rain as you feel the intensity of his stare and the warmth of him between your thighs. You crash your lips to his desperately, hips chasing friction. When his heavy tongue slips into your mouth you respond in kind, needy and vigorous. 
He takes his thigh away and you huff at the loss, but it's not for long, not when that hand of his is stroking down your front, lightly massaging your hardened nipples and chasing down to your stomach. He cups your mound, one finger pushing down on your swollen nub. 
"Eddie." 
It's a whimper, a plea into his open mouth. Responding by biting your bottom lip softly, he dips his finger lower, circling your entrance gently. His finger slips inside then and you clench around it immediately, moaning at the foreign feeling. It's odd, yes, but it's so good that you cry out. 
"Gotta be quiet sweetheart, don't want anyone hearing me fuck you with my fingers." 
His crude words are peppering your insides with fire, the evidence of your arousal seeping out of you. Humming in response, you bite your lip, clinging desperately to his side. 
He slowly pumps his finger in and out, watching your face. You're slick jawed, eyebrows knitted tight, hips rolling with each thrust of his hand. 
"Fuck you're so tight, can barely fit my finger in." 
"Eddie, no one's ever-" 
"Shhh, I fuckin' know sweetheart. Gonna make you feel really good. Just enjoy it." 
He curls his finger inside you, incessantly stroking at something that's making your legs tense up and your insides flutter around him, the heel of his hand flat and hard against that spot again. 
"Oh my God!" You whisper urgently, fingernails digging into his sides. 
"I know baby, feels good yeah?" 
"Uh huh" you manage to breathe out as your eyes squeeze shut. 
The pressure collating in your tummy is building and building as he speeds up, finger reaching deep inside. It releases, and flows from you, wave after wave crashing down and washing away everything but Eddie. 
You muffle your cries of pleasure in the skin of Eddie's chest, resisting the urge to clamp your teeth into his flesh.
As you come down, he releases his digit with a wet sucking sound that probably would have made you embarrassed five minutes ago, but now it's just inconsequential. 
"Still with me?" He asks softly as he hugs you close. 
"Barely" You mumble; he chuckles at your reply. 
He rolls you on top of him, moving your legs so you're straddling him. His hard on is pressing firmly into your privates, your slick dampening the front of his boxers immediately. 
"Eddie, I'm not- I can't have sex with-" 
"Sweetheart, you trust me?" 
Yes. 
"No."
There's that look again, that edge of mocking that isn't making you annoyed anymore, it's making you want to pull his underwear down and slip him inside of you. 
"I'm not gonna fuck you. Not unless you want me to. Relax sweetheart." 
His hands are on your ass, moving you against him to grind on his rock hard bulge. Your eyes widen, the friction so much better than his thigh. 
He lets out a stifled moan, and damn if it isn't the best noise you've heard in your life. 
His hands trail under your shirt as you take over moving against him, feeling the shape of him under you. Tugging at the hem, he looks up at you with pleading eyes. 
"Can I- can I take this off?" 
All feelings of modesty have fled and you whip your shirt over your head and fling it across the tent. 
"Fuck, look at you." 
Leaning forward he takes your nipple into his mouth and rolls his tongue around and around. 
"Eddie, oh Holy fuck!" 
Your movements become faster and sloppy, so he grabs you by the hips to slow you down. 
"You know what I think?" He says, in between wet open mouthed kisses to your breasts, "I think you are a freak. You just didn't know it yet." He chuckles darkly, and sucks hard at one of your nipples. 
Your moan is loud and bordering on pornographic as you rut yourself against him harshly, all pretence of keeping quiet forgotten as your stomach tightens again in thick knots of pleasure. 
"Oh Eddie, I'm- I'm gonna cum oh fuckfuckfuck!" 
It all undoes at once as you release and clench around nothing, pussy throbbing with ecstasy. The bones in your body seem to disintegrate, muscles a distant memory as you flop against him. 
Eddie's not done. 
"Come on sweetheart, just a little longer." 
He encourages your hips to move again as you lay on his chest, skin glowing with perspiration. You can only grunt in response and start grinding against him again, the feeling so intense it has you clenching your teeth with pleasure pain. 
"That's it, fuck, I'm so close. There's my good girl, just, oh shit, little more." 
His praise bubbles through you and you speed up to meet his rutting hips, your slick sticking to the tops of your thighs. 
"Feel so good sweetheart, oh shit!" 
Lifting your head, you do it just in time to watch Eddie's eyes screw shut, mouth panting open with pleasure as he holds your hips in a death grip. His cheeks and neck are flushed, the vein in his neck pulsing. You press your lips to it softly, leaving feather dusted kisses over his neck and jaw as he comes down from his glowing high. 
"Holy shit." He laughs into you, kissing the top of your head over your hair. 
"Indeed" your reply is breathless as you melt into his front, attempting to ignore the stickiness. 
"As much as I'm enjoying you naked on top of me, I need to, er-" He gestures vaguely at himself with one hand. For a minute you think he's just going to go, but instead he wriggles out of the sleeping bag and whips his boxers down. 
You sit back on your heels, mouth agape as he casually cleans his spend with his underwear, wiping at the matted pubic hair. He's big; you could feel him under you but now you're faced with it you fear your eyes may bug out of your head. 
Glancing down, you can see some of his cum escaped its fabric confinement; a few drops glisten on your lower abdomen. Curiosity gets the better of you as you gather it on your fingers to feel the consistency, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger. It's stickier than you thought. You bring your thumb to your mouth and suck the excess off. It's salty, and strange, but not unpleasant exactly. 
When your eyes meet again Eddie looks awestruck, staring at you with the queerest expression on his face. 
Embarrassed at being caught, you hide your hand behind your back as if scolded. 
"Sorry, was that wrong?" 
"No, fuck no," he chuckles, looking away, "just have to stop looking at me like that sweetheart." 
"Why?" 
"Hell, 'cause you're making me hard again." 
"Oh." 
You shyly put your head down and settle back down in the sleeping bag's warmth. To your amazement Eddie gets in with you. 
"What are you doing?" 
"I thought you said I could stay? Or you had enough of me?" 
"N-no, I just… well, you're naked." 
He laughs hard at that. 
"So are you." 
Nothing about this seems to phase him, but your mind is swirling around and around. You'd just had your first orgasms ever, and now you're going to be sleeping naked with a man. With Eddie Munson.  
He's so much warmer now, skin hot to the touch. Hesitantly, you rest your hand on his chest. He pulls you close, picking up your little camp light with the other hand, fiddling with it briefly before offering it to you. 
"Can you switch this thing off?" 
You reach and press the button, plunging you both into darkness. 
"Night sweetheart." 
"Night Eddie." 
********************
Early morning light wakes you, filtering through the tent fabric, coating everything in a warm glow. 
Eddie is still here, laying on his back, snoring softly with you cuddled to his chest. You'd hate to admit it, but you were glad. Glad he didn't run off in the night. Glad that last night had actually happened and wasn't just your over active imagination playing some cruel joke. 
Laying there, feeling the rhythm of his breathing, you take a second to really think. 
What was actually happening? A part of you is frightened; scared that maybe Eddie sees your virginity as a challenge. Maybe that's why he stayed? You were staying another night after all. Or maybe this is a little holiday romance, something to keep him occupied whilst he's away. You'd had one before at band camp; nothing serious, just kisses and cuddles and radio silence on your return. 
What were Robin and Steve going to say? You contemplated waking him up right now to sneak him back to his own tent, but that thought went straight out the window when you caught the sound of their tent being unzipped. 
A soft bash to your tent startles you and makes Eddie snort himself awake. 
"Hey guys I'm making coffee! Come and join us!" 
Robin sings out and walks away to fuss over the fire it sounds like. 
Oh Holy shit balls. Hey guys?? She knew Eddie was here. And if she knew, Steve knew. 
Eddie smirks down at you as you stare at him with wild panic in your eyes. 
"Guess our little secret is out sweetheart." 
Before you can say a word he's unzipping the sleeping bag and fumbling about for his jeans, slipping them clumsily onto his legs. 
"Eddie!" You whisper urgently. He just chuckles. 
"What, want me to cut a hole in the back of the tent? Tunnel out?" 
He's got a point. 
"Eddie, please just don't-" 
"Hey, I ain't one to kiss and tell, relax." 
Before you can say another word he's perching a cigarette in between his plump lips and making his way out of the tent. 
Fuck. 
You pull on your clothes hastily, a skirt and t-shirt, and slide on your sneakers, attempting to untangle some of the messy bed head that had been created during the night. 
It's now or never. 
You exit the tent, attempting to look as casual about it as you can. 
"Morning guys." 
Steve smiles at you. 
"Howdy cowgirl." 
"Hi?" 
You return his greeting, utterly confused, but by the sound of Robin shushing him violently and Eddie coughing on his cigarette you can only assume he meant something by that which went over your head. Robin breaks the tension, talking a mile a minute. 
"Hey sleepy head! You want a coffee? I just made it over the fire. Crazy! I know it took forever. It'll wake you up. Not that you need waking up you're up and about and it's early! It's not like you had a long night. Well you might have how would I know anyway here's your coffee!!" 
Seems you might have gotten a little loud, why else would Robin be breaking the sound barrier? You don't say a thing, just smile gratefully and take your coffee, entirely avoiding Eddie's eyes, and try to wish the blood away from your darkening cheeks. 
"So, we thought we might have a swim in the lake in a couple hours when it's warmer, you in?" 
Steve asks and you nod, aware your voice right now is not to be trusted. 
So, after a little breakfast and small talk about the cold last night, which you put a particular emphasis on to try and explain away your little situation, you all go and change into your swimwear. 
In your tent you lay out your usual one piece, the plain black one you always wear with the troop, and the other set. The bikini you bravely bought but never wore, deeming it far too skimpy for camp. But this wasn't girl scouts. 
God damn he's already seen me naked, come on, be brave. 
Skimpy number it is. You wear it underneath your clothes and grab a towel and a book, readying yourself to join the others. 
Eddie and Steve walk ahead, talking obnoxiously loud; something you're quite glad of. At least they aren't whispering about you. 
Robin walks side by side with you, practically vibrating. 
"Just, whatever you wanna say, say it before you explode." 
The voice that exits her mouth is so high pitched you're surprised dogs didn't start barking. 
"You had sex with Eddie Munson!" 
"I did not!" 
"Totally did, we saw you!" 
You stop in your tracks, mouth hanging open.
"What the fuck Robin!" 
"Sorry, we didn't actually like, see you see you, we saw your shadows, 'cause of the light in your tent." 
"We- I- I mean, we didn't, like, have sex, we just- did something else." You settle at lamely. 
"Are you going to? He really likes you." 
You scoff at that, continuing your walk. 
"He's just trying to get in my pants, take my virginity. I doubt he'll even talk to me after." 
Robin's hand shoots out to grab your arm. 
"Oh, you don't know, do you?" 
Feeling utterly confused, you turn to face her. 
"What are you going on about?" 
"Eddie likes you, he had a crush on you in high school. He was the one that suggested inviting you and nearly killed me when I actually did." 
Your world turns sideways in your mind; everything is upside down, thoughts smashed, memories cut to ribbons in their wake.
"Huh? How- what?" 
"He was telling Steve like a week ago, I was listening in and opened my mouth as per usual. I tried to tell you, remember?" 
You rack your brains trying to come up with answers when a light bulb switches in your head. 
"Hang on, you said Eddie wanted me to go before, didn't you? I honestly thought you were just joking with me, I didn't think he knew who I was!" 
You reach the tree line and see the two boys a little further on, just on the tiny beach leading to the lake, stripping off their clothes. 
"But he was so- so sure of himself!" 
"Oh he's always like that. Pretty sure it's an act, he's actually super sweet when you get to know him." 
You look up and stare at Eddie in his swim shorts. He'd been naked last night, but with the low light and distraction of seeing his privates for the first time you hadn't had the opportunity to really look at him all over. 
He was lean and tall, but there was a broadness to his shoulders and a sinew to his muscles that made him stand out. Tattoos littered his frame, more than you thought he had but the detail was lost at this distance. You were walking closer, still staring at him, when he captures you. Smiling that smug grin of his he holds his arms out as if on display. 
"See something you like sweetheart?" 
On the edge of shying away, you look down; but then you remember Robin's words. He's the one with the crush on you. Feeling a little braver, bolstered by that thought, you walk closer, a couple of feet away from him, and stop. 
"You look really good Eddie." 
Pulling your t-shirt over your head, you smile at Eddie's reaction. Clearly not expecting such a bold move from you, his cheeks and neck are flushed pink. For once he seems speechless. You slip your skirt off and away, kicking it to one side. 
This leaves you in your tiny baby blue triangle bikini, with delicate daisies embroidered on the hem. For once, your cleavage is fully displayed, and the ties for the bottoms ride high on your hips. You slip two fingers under each tied side and pull them up ever so slightly. 
Eddie's eyes dart down and back up again, and you swear you see him swallow thickly in his throat. 
"Well, you swimming or not handsome?" 
Without a further glance you kick your shoes off and wade into the chilly water. 
OK, keep calm, just look at him now. 
Risking a quick peek back, you see him standing gormlessly on the sand, mouth hanging open. He looks so dorky, so unlike the Eddie you've seen so far that you giggle aloud. 
Steve calls out to him, already in the clear water. He's stumbling into the lake after you then as if a fire was lit underneath him. Robin makes her way in too, and pretty sure you're laughing and splashing each other in earnest, the boys taking turns in dunking each other underwater. 
Steve keeps screaming about his hair, which just makes you all laugh that little bit louder. Soon he's moping about it and swims off surprisingly fast. Robin says she wants to dry out and wanders back to the beach to read a little, leaving you and Eddie alone. 
He swims straight to you, bodies a couple of inches apart. Suddenly the water doesn't feel so cold, warmed by the heat he seems to pull from you just by being close. That ache is there again, wanting to be filled by Eddie. You try and shake the thought away. 
"Seems a little skimpy for a scout leader," he says, gesturing at your two piece. 
"Well, I don't wear this one with the troop," you reply, attempting to look blasé about it. 
"So, wore this just for me, sweetheart?" 
You shrug, but know your eyes betray you, honesty etched into the look you give him. 
"You did, didn't you? That's cute," he responds to his own question, reaching a hand up to hold you by the waist. All of a sudden his breath is in your ear, his other hand reaching up to your chest. 
"You look hot by the way, I like the little flowers," as he says it he runs a finger over the hem of your bikini bra making you shudder. 
"Eddie," you whisper, meaning to scold him but it just comes out a little too breathy for that. 
He continues to whisper in your ear, each word sending a butterfly loose in your swirling stomach.  "Wondering if I can stay in that tent of yours again. To stay warm?" 
You laugh, turning to face him. "That's not all you want and you know it." 
"Yeah?" He comes closer, lips so close to brushing yours, holding your chin between thumb and forefinger. You clench your thighs together as your eyes flutter shut. 
"Seems you want more as well," he laughs, pulling back from you. The frown that appears on your face tells him all he needs to know. 
As he moves away, his hand drops down, knuckles dragging slowly over your nipple, already pebbled by the water. 
"Maybe later princess." 
He turns to get out of the water. Furious with how forward he just was you shout after him. 
"Eddie, you are such-" 
"A cocky mother fucker?" He shouts back, stealing your thunder. 
You clench your fists, nearly losing it treading water, and decide to swim away to cool off. 
You're finding Robin's words hard to believe. He still seems so confident; maybe his little chat with Steve was a rouse to get you here so he could tease you. If he has liked you all this time, maybe it's just a sexual thing. Seduce the band geek. 
When the ache between your thighs is lessened by the burning muscles in your arms and legs you swim back to shore and dry off, laying on your towel to read. 
It's like the universe has it in for you today. A few more pages into your fantasy book and suddenly there's a sex scene. Usually, you'd just skim over the 'fruity bits' as your mom called them but now? Now it was as if Eddie had altered your brain chemistry and you found yourself absorbing every word in detail, thighs clenched together almost to the point of pain. 
"What you reading?" 
You jump visibly and look up to see Eddie couching over you, sodden locks leaving pitter patter drips on your legs. 
"Eddie, you're dripping." 
He smiles mischievously. 
"Am I making you wet, sweetheart?" 
You roll your eyes and replace your bookmarker, putting your book down to one side. 
"Yes, Eddie, I'm soaking wet for you." 
Triumph flashes over your features as you take in his wide eyes; so shocked at your reply he's nearly choking on air. 
"You are strange Eddie. You can give it but you can't take it, can you?" 
His eyebrows raise and he attempts to cover his flustered appearance. 
"I'm just surprised, I thought you were a good girl." 
Ignoring your heart thumping hard in your chest at those words, you shrug. 
"And here I was thinking it was because you've had a crush on me since high school." 
Eddie opens his mouth, and promptly closes it. When he speaks again it's quieter, almost like he's embarrassed. 
"Who- how did-" 
"Robin." 
"Of course." 
He stares at you then, all bravado gone. A moment passes where you both try and work out what this means, what the other is thinking.
Eddie coughs and stands up, breaking the spell. 
"We're heading back to have lunch, if you wanna come." 
He walks off then, not a further glance at you. Wondering if you upset him somehow, you gather your things and head back to camp. 
********************
Later that evening, you're huddled around a campfire again having a couple of beers; or, in the case of Steve, several beers. Eddie had been civil, nice even, but there was no edge to him right now. You're not sure if you miss it or not, realising that you had actually grown fond of the push and pull between you, and that grin of his. 
He'd disappeared at one point, and returned a little later with his acoustic guitar; beginning playing a little aimlessly, just background music to your tiny circle. He played beautifully; it really was mesmerising to watch his fingers dance over the strings. 
"Play me a song, Eddie." You say, before you realise you were saying it aloud. 
"Yeah?" He flashes a small smile and you encourage him by placing your hand on his knee. 
"OK, just for you then sweetheart." 
He breaks into a rendition of Should I Stay Or Should I Go, by the Clash. You're almost certain it's a jab at you because of last night and your failure to make your mind up. You don't mind; listening to the rest of the lyrics you realise you're hoping he means more than just a little in-joke. If you say that you are mine, I'll be here till the end of time.
When he finishes you all clap, Robin as quickly as a bird's wings flutters, and Steve just a little too loudly, probably due to too much alcohol. 
"Thank you Eddie, that was brilliant." You smile softly at him. 
"No problem sweets." He moves to put the guitar away but you wave your arm at him. 
"Can I play something?" 
A sharp intake of breath rings out from Steve and Robin but you pay it no mind. Eddie looks at you like he's sizing you up. Seems he comes to the conclusion that you aren't just going to pull some rockstar move and smash it on the ground, he passes it to you carefully. 
You take it reverently in your hands and get comfortable with it, tuning the G string slightly as it was a little off when you heard it. 
An idea springs to mind and you grin deviously to Robin over the fire, a grin which is reciprocated. She knows what you're about to do. The Band Camp thing.
You start to play the very beginning of a song extremely loudly, singly wildly off key.
"Kumbaya, my Lord-" 
"Don't you fuckin' dare!" Eddie shouts, lurching a hand toward you to clamp over the fret. 
"I'm kidding!" You giggle, prying his fingers away. Robin's laughing and Steve looks like he's about to burst, swaying in his seat. 
"OK, no funny business." 
"Not unless you ask for it." You wink, and start to play what you had intended all along. 
"One pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you small
And the ones that mother gives you
Don't do anything at all…"
You lose yourself in the song, the melody. When you were younger you had just assumed it was nothing but a song about Alice in Wonderland. You knew better now, but it was fun to play and it suited your voice. 
As you came to the conclusion your eyes fluttered shut and you sang out the last couple of lines like no one was even there. 
"Remember what the dormouse said
Feed your head
Feed your head!"
Whooping and clapping finally reaches your ears as you open your eyes. Robin is going insane; Steve is shouting but it sounds slurred. Eddie just looks stunned as you pass his precious guitar back to him.
"You're incredible sweetheart." He looks genuinely impressed, staring at you with such intensity it makes you squirm. 
"It was OK, my strumming's a little sloppy." 
"But your voice! Jesus Christ, I've got goosebumps. You should sing, like, all the time." 
You laugh, swatting him with your hand. 
"I think that might get a little annoying." 
"I'd love to listen to it all the time." 
The sweet moment is broken by Robin gagging loudly. 
"Munson that was so cheesy I'm gonna hurl." 
He just shrugs, unbothered, and puts his guitar away. You didn't think it was too cheesy. In fact, you're breathless, thoughtless. The ache was settling back in, so deep in your bones there was no willing it away. It was clear; you needed him. Biblically. 
As that realisation hits you like a ton of bricks, a soft thud breaks through to you. Steve has fallen backwards, already snoring. 
"Well, looks like he needs to go to bed. Give me a hand guys." 
Eddie stands up and lifts Steve bodily round his waist. Robin and you hover nearby, but he doesn't need your help after all. 
Steve's giggling childishly, slurring words together. 
"Don' wanna go bed, wan' sing too!" 
"Sing in the morning, big guy." 
You help Robin tuck him into his sleeping bag, as Steve mumbles Kumbaya under his breath. 
Robin huffs. "I'll take it from here," and quieter, just to you, she whispers, "I'm putting earplugs in, go have fun." 
"Robin, I-" 
"Shhh you'll wake the baby. Just go, go!" 
You leave the tent and see Eddie sitting by the fire, rolling a joint. 
"Erm, Robin's going to bed too." 
"Oh?" He looks at you, quirking one eyebrow. "Are you?" 
"I'm not tired." 
That shit-eating grin of his is back, tugging at the corners of his mouth slowly. 
You sit down, right next to him, knees touching. He finishes rolling, licking it closed with a pointed tongue you can't help but stare at. 
As he starts smoking, you finally let loose what's been on your mind all day. 
"Why did you act funny with me? After I said you have a crush?" 
He huffs a little laugh, blowing smoke through his nose. 
"I thought that was obvious. I was embarrassed." 
"Really? I didn't know Eddie Munson could get embarrassed." 
He takes another drag and looks away. 
"Yeah, well it happens. I don't like people knowing too much about me. Rather come across as mean and scary and-" 
"-cocky?" 
"Ha, yeah." 
It's quiet again, but not a loaded quiet. You feel comfortable, almost enjoying the silence; just the slight rustle of pine needles in the breeze, and an owl hooting far away. 
"You want some of this?" 
Eddie's touch pulls you back to the moment, rough fingertips grazing you. The touch burns again, but differently this time. This time you melt under it. 
"Can you, do that thing?" You ask in a small voice. 
He smiles wickedly, straightening his legs out. 
"Come here" He says as he pats his lap. You straddle him awkwardly, not sure if this is what he meant, but a firm hand grabs you by the ass and shifts you closer to him so your chests are flush. 
"Like this?" You ask quietly, breathing the question. 
"Just like that baby." 
He takes a long toke and beckons you forward with one finger. When you're in range, nose lightly brushing his, he brings your chin toward him with one firm hand and presses his lips to your mouth. 
Stiffening with surprise, you quickly soften, disarmed by his lips. You part yours and he breathes the smoke into you, allowing you to inhale deeply. Breaking away, you exhale the smoke downwards and look into his deep eyes. 
"Do it again." 
He bites his lip and smiles, flashing his teeth. He repeats the gesture; taking a pull, smashing his lips to yours and breathing into you. He doesn't let you pull away to breathe out; instead he presses his tongue into your mouth. Smoke burns your nose as you submit to him, the kiss becoming filthy and desperate as he grips onto the flesh of your ass. 
Finally he lets up, if only to breathe. You're both panting, electricity in the air passing between and through you. 
"I like it like that." You smile, hand resting on his chest. 
"You keep surprising me sweetheart." He responds, hands kneading at the flesh of your hips. 
A fuzziness rushes through every nerve, all of your body crying out, singing for him. 
"You know, I don't mind cocky Eddie." 
"Yeah? I thought I annoyed you." 
"A little. But it kinda turns me on." You respond, rolling your hips into him.
"Oh fuck sweetheart," he roughly grips you, forcing you to do it again, "you drive me fuckin' crazy." 
He's on your neck, kissing and licking at you almost tenderly. 
"Eddie, please," you whisper, mind abandoning any clarity as he kisses you. 
"Please? What do you need, sweetheart?" 
How can you answer? What do you need?
"Eddie, I-I need you, please," you whisper into his ear, rocking against his hardening bulge. 
He bites down on your neck, eliciting a gasp to spill from your lips. 
"Tent." Is all he manages to say, and you stumble upwards on wobbly legs, to lead him to it. 
Fumbling for the zip, you just about get inside it when you feel his hands on you gently pushing you forward. A small touch is all it takes and you're falling onto the air bed, knees bending as you collapse face forward. 
He's on your back before you can think, firm arms caging you in from behind. 
"You need me? Really?" 
You nod, squirming underneath him, a small hand curling around his forearm. 
"Dreamed about you saying that, fuck." He whispers, lips pressing to your shoulder, "turn around." 
You can't find it in you to not comply. Wobbling the mattress, you twist to face him, engulfed in the intensity of his stare, illuminated by the fading light emanating from the fire. 
"Say it again." It's soft, but ironclad in the centre. 
"I need you Eddie." 
"Fuck" He huffs, moving down your torso, pulling your t-shirt up so it kisses the edge of your breasts. He looks up at you with pleading eyes; a look that turns your insides to mush. 
"Can you turn the light on? I need to see you." 
He sounds so desperate, so in need that you waste no time in grabbing your camp light and switching it on, bathing you both in cool white light. 
As he's pulling your top up, you assist and pull it over your head, flinging it to a corner. 
"You are really beautiful." He says, drinking you in with his eyes, as a calloused hand strokes between the valley of your breasts. You slide under his confident touches, getting more anxious by the minute. 
"Can I taste you?" 
You nod, and he unbuttons your skirt, pulling your panties down with a roughness that makes you flinch. You're entirely exposed. 
"I've wanted this, wanted you, for a long time." 
You wriggle underneath him, and reply. "Didn't you get me like this last night?" 
"This," he says, gesturing to your revealed flesh, "this is different." 
You don't quite get it and want him to explain further, but his lips are on your nipples and all that comes out of you is a heady moan. A firm knee pushes your thighs apart and you bend to his will, allowing him to kiss down, and down, leaving hot pressured mouth trails to your stomach. 
When his lips meet the tops of your thighs you cry out his name. 
He understands, slipping his tongue between your folds and licking at your clit with pointed precision. 
"Oh fuck!" 
A chuckle emanates from his throat as he doubles his efforts, flicking and suckling at you in earnest. Thick fingers tease your entrance and one slides into your glistening opening, pumping slowly. 
It shocks through your body, setting loose tendrils of pleasure so profound it's almost a religious experience. He prods another finger at you, sliding it next to the first and it burns, making you hiss. 
Eddie mumbles platitudes into your pussy, telling you how good a job you're doing, how proud he is, how you're a good girl. His good girl. 
The tension is unbelievable, clenching every muscle as your breath comes in short pants.
"That's it sweetheart, sing for me." 
The fingers curl, stroking something incessantly inside you that rips a sultry groan from deep within your chest cavity, and without further warning your orgasm washes through. It collects and expands, a force of nature that flies out and collides like stars in the universe.
Your back falls to the air mattress, and that's the only signal you have that it ever left. You feel soaked in your own juices, thighs uncomfortably wet. 
Eddie hovers over your face. You're not quite sure when he got there. 
"That OK sweetheart?" 
You don't reply, you can't. Your response can only be carnal, feeding into the biting, gnawing need that still refuses to lessen its grip on your core. Bringing shaking hands upward, you wind them into his hair and pull his face forcefully towards yours, tongue slipping in to taste your slick in his mouth, groaning at the tangy sweet flavour. 
He collapses against you, full weight of his lithe body pressed into yours, but it's not enough. Pulling away and leaving less than an inch of space you voice your frustration. 
"Eddie, please, I- I want you. I want you inside me, please." 
Eddie shakes his head for a second, then deep brown eyes seek yours for any doubt, and come up empty. 
"Are you sure sweetheart?" 
The nod you reciprocate with is painfully fast, hurting the muscles of your neck. He looks uncertain, but discards his clothes, kneeling in front of you in his boxer shorts. 
"I need you to be sure. I can't give it back." 
You let your legs fall further apart, giving him the view of you open and ready for him. 
"Please." 
Underwear has never been discarded quicker. He has his cock in his hand, sliding on a condom from his crumpled jeans at record speed. A second later and he's towering over you, nose brushing yours and dick lined up to your sopping entrance. 
His tip breaches you, so much thicker than his fingers, and you wince. You can tell he's trying to be careful, pushing into you slowly, watching for any signs you want to stop. 
You're so full, and he just keeps going. A moment later and you let out a little startled cry as a sharp pain shoots from deep inside. 
"You OK sweetheart?" He stops his movements, staring at your face with a worried expression. 
"I'm fine, just, go all the way" you manage through gritted teeth. 
He slips the last of it deep, deep inside as you yelp at the suddenness. Then, he's still, grabbing your hand and entwining your fingers with his over your head, his other arm holding him perfectly motionless above you. 
"That's it, you're OK, so fuckin' tight, fuck," he says to you, kissing your cheek. It burns, the feel of him, but a fullness is beginning to overtake that ache. 
"You know, I thought you were afraid of me in high school." He half laughs, kissing the tip of your nose. It's such a sweet gesture from the so-called frightening man that you giggle a little too. 
"I was," you admit, staring into his deep eyes.
"Then, we come here and you look like you're gonna eat me alive. Then, you're all innocent, and now… fuck, I can't keep up." 
You appreciate what he's doing, talking to you, distracting you from the pain. It helps; it's settled into a dull throb and your need from him is outranking it. 
"Eddie, you can move." 
With a peck to your lips he pulls out a little and thrusts back in, setting a slow and steady pace. 
This is so much better than his hands, or his tongue. On every thrust he's massaging at something that makes you moan, again and again. 
"You're doing real good sweetheart, my good fuckin' girl." 
All of a sudden you feel it, all of it. His lean weight comforting over you, the squeeze of his fingers in yours, the throb of his member inside you, his words. It's all too much. Your eyes gloss over and a tear works its way down your temple. 
"Oh shit, you want me to-" He starts as he slows down a little. 
"Don't you fucking dare, please, please, I-I need-" 
He grins at you; that self satisfied look that turns your legs to jelly. 
"What do you need, sweetheart? Whatever you want, I'll give it to you." 
"Harder Eddie, oh God!" 
He snaps his hips into you with much more force; once, twice, three times and you scream his name, pussy clenching him hard, every muscle tense. As everything unravels you go limp, whimpering at the pulse that you can feel pounding in your core. 
When your eyes finally decide to open, he's leaving kisses as light as a butterfly's wings on your cheek. 
"Woah," is all you can say, between breathless giggles. Tears are falling but you don't care enough to wipe them away. 
Eddie unlatches his hand from yours and does it himself. 
"That was so hot. You need to do that again," he whispers, beginning to grind into you slowly.
"I nearly died Eddie, it might finish me off!" 
He laughs back, but doesn't quit; hips still driving into you leisurely. 
"What's life without a little risk?" 
You stare up at him, biting your lip, a question on the tip of your tongue that you're too nervous to ask. 
"What is it?" He asks, brow furrowed, as if you were about to ask him to stop. 
"Can I… wait, don't worry." 
He does stop then, to put his hand to your face and stroke you with his thumb.
"Hey hey hey, come on, what baby?" 
You whisper it quietly, voice small and second guessing. 
"Can I try, erm, being on top?" 
You're surprised that Eddie's face didn't split in half from the sheer wideness of his grin. 
"Holy shit, yes, please." 
He winds his arms underneath your frame and flips you so fast your vision blurs, until he's underneath you. You sit up, his cock still buried within, and you gasp at the new angle. 
"Eddie, Jesus Christ!" 
Palms splayed on his chest, you control your breathing a little. This angle is devastating, pressing harshly against that place inside that has you throbbing around him. 
Eddie chuckles darkly as his hands slide over the flesh of your thighs, rubbing back and forth, until they work their way to your hips and pull you up ever so slightly, only to drop you back down again. 
"Just like that sweetheart, 'Kay?" 
He tilts his head to one side, that mocking tone fuelling the embers of your desire. Rising up on shaky knees you pull off him and slide back down, trying to find some semblance of rhythm. Your clit grazes his pubic hair on one pass and you nearly lose it completely, the feeling sending a bolt of pure pleasure up your spine. 
"Oh my God!" 
"Yeah? That good?" 
You hum and nod, words escaping you, now rolling your hips on each bounce to get that sensation over and over. 
Eddie's talking now, watching how much you writhe and whine at his words. 
"That's it sweetheart. Wanting to- oh fuck- ride me, on your first time. Oh yes, fuck, just like that- dirty, my dirty fuckin' girl." 
"Eddie, oh God, can you, fuck, please-" 
"What is it sweetheart? Anything, you can have anything." 
His words embolden you, and before you can hesitate your hands are gripping one of his and leading it to your throat. You're not sure why, but you know deep in your core that you need it. 
Eddie looks shocked by your moments but quickly recovers, fingers slotting around your throat, squeezing lightly at the sides. 
Speeding up, feeling the pressure of his hand on your windpipe, you throw your body into each movement. 
"Fuck Eddie, harder!" 
He squeezes and you let go of everything, breath leaving you. All composure, all thought. It's just you and Eddie, and his hand, and his cock. Screaming aloud, you fold almost double, collapsing into him with a shocked, delicate whimper. 
His fingers relinquish their firm grip, coming to rest on the back of your head in a comforting, tender hold. 
"I was right, you are a freak." 
Laughing aloud, you have just enough bones left in your neck to lift it ever so slightly. He looks surprised, sure, and really aroused, judging by his hooded gaze. 
"Are you not… done?" You ask, as you feel his impossibly hard length still throbbing inside you. 
"What can I say, I've got stamina." 
That smug face is back, a flash of canines and confidence. You'd roll your eyes if it wasn't so sexy. 
No time for a witty comeback though, as he holds you close to him and thrusts upwards with abandon. Colours swirl in your vision as you try to stay attached to reality, focusing on the feel of his skin, the pounding of his rhythm, and the light in his eyes. 
"Fuck I'm close, I'm so fuckin' close. You're, oh shit, so- oh God, can't believe you're letting me do this." 
Slack jawed and practically dribbling, you let him use you to chase his own release, trying to weakly meet his thrusts. A pulse deep inside is brought to your attention, and it's not yours. Looking at his face, you watch it awash with ecstasy as he holds you tightly and throbs his climax out. 
His muscles melt, holding you still but so loosely that the lack of pressure surprises you, as if you were only aware of how tight his grip had been at this very moment. 
The only sounds are the nightlife of insects around the tent, and panting, heaving breaths. Sliding off of him in an organic gesture, you curl up into his arms, finally feeling sated and at ease. 
Lips are pressed into the top of your head, kissing you over your hair. No words are spoken; none need to be. For a shining moment, this is all you need. To be held, and cared for. 
Minutes go by, and your eyelids begin to feel heavy. Before you drift off, Eddie breaks the spell cast over both of you. 
"Was that OK princess?" 
"That was incredible Eddie." 
He kisses the top of your head again, then seems to remember himself. 
"Fuck sweetheart, just, stay right there." 
Clambering to his feet he pulls the condom off, tying it in a knot and discarding it into a corner to be thought of later. He's back then, spreading your legs. 
'Eddie, you can't just-" 
"I'm just looking after you sweetheart. You got some tissues or something?"
Furrowing your brows, you point to your wash bag near the foot of the sleeping bag. He paws through it wordlessly, and brings out some tissues and wet wipes. 
"Sweetheart I'm so sorry." 
"What's wrong?" You ask, panic riding your words. 
"I've made you bleed." Eddie looks crushed, so upset at your prior pain, anguish etched into his face. 
"It's OK Eddie, it's normal." 
"You should have said. I'm so sorry." 
You laugh a little, touched by his concern. 
"I didn't know! It's alright, it doesn't hurt now." 
Placated slightly by your answer, he cleans you both up as well as he can, before slipping into the sleeping bag with you. 
A thousand questions perch on the edge of your tongue, but it's so warm, so cosy and right, that your body denies all words for a moment. 
When you feel capable of speech you look up at him. 
"Stamina, huh?" 
He flushes, looking down at your smiling face. 
"I may have tactically jerked off beforehand."
"When??" You giggle, fingers flirting over his exposed chest. 
"When I went to get my guitar." 
"Eddie, how did you know that-" 
"OK, OK!" He grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles before hiding behind it, "I didn't know, not for sure. You just looked so good in that little two piece, I couldn't hold it in." 
"Perv," you respond, but your eyes are soft. 
"Yep." 
Giggling, you slip into a calm, contented sleep in his arms.
********************
You wake up a little later than intended, no doubt exhausted from last night. The tent feels empty. Upon realising that Eddie's missing a dread settles in your stomach. Bile rises as you sling some clothes on. Maybe he's had his way with you and that's it.
Exiting the tent, you see he's just by the fire, trying to get it going again, a cigarette dangling from his pouting lips. 
"Oh would you just- come on!" He says as he angrily flicks his lighter, trying to get the wood to catch. 
You smile, relief washing over you, and walk over to help. 
"I'm begging, come on- oh, sweetheart," he looks a little sheepish as he speaks to you, mumbling around his cigarette. "I was gonna make you coffee and bring it to you but the damn fire won't start." 
You giggle, and rearrange the little pile, adding a few twists of paper to the base, and hold your hand out to him. He looks at you blankly for a second, then comes to his senses, placing the lighter in your palm. 
With one stroke the papers alight, and starting to catch the rest of the twigs. The couple of logs won't take long to catch. 
"Witchcraft." 
"Nope, just girl scouts." 
"You can go back in the tent if you want, I'll make you a drink." 
"Eddie?" 
"Huh?" He turns to you, pot of water in his hand. 
"Good morning." You smile shyly at him. He grins, placing the pot on the ground and stubbing out his cigarette. Strong arms slot their way around your waist and you fling your arms around his neck, grinning stupidly at each other. 
"Good morning. Good night?" It's framed as a question, and you know what he's getting at. 
"Great night." 
Smiling wider, he presses a kiss to your forehead. Puckering your lips to ask for a proper kiss, you hear a very loud cough. 
"Good morning love birds." Robin wiggles her eyebrows at you both. You move to break away from Eddie, but he steals a kiss anyway, and pulls you close to his side, arm firmly around you. 
"Is Steve alive?" He asks, looking at Robin. 
"Well, he got up in the night to throw up, just glad he didn't do it in the tent. He's dead to the world right now. He's been singing in his sleep you know. Nearly suffocated him with a pillow." 
You both laugh at that, and then hear a loud groan from the tent. 
Eddie glances at you with mischief and shouts out towards Steve's tent.
"Harrington! Wanna sing for us, big guy?" 
"Urgh." Is the only reply. Robin rolls her eyes and busies herself with the fire. 
After a while, the coffees are ready; you all attempt to rouse Steve but he's gone back to sleep, groaning whenever you call out to him. 
Then, it's just the sad business of taking down your tent. There's a special kind of melancholy reserved for such an occasion; pretty soon there's no sign at all that it was ever there. Afraid that your memories, your feelings, about last night would fade too, you walk over to Eddie who is perched on a stump fitting the last of his things in a bag. 
"Eddie?" 
"Yeah sweetheart?" He asks, still fumbling with his bag. 
Do you still like me? Do you want to see me after this? Was this all a dream?
"Can I get a ride back with you? Steve and Robin are gonna be a while." 
You gesture over to where Steve had finally emerged, whining and packing his stuff, tent still upright. 
"Sure, anything you need." He flashes a tight lipped smile and reaches to grasp your hand briefly. 
The ride back to town with him is chatty, even if it's only surface level stuff. Your rendition of White Rabbit had him fumbling around the glove compartment and pulling out a few older classic rock tapes that you happily listened to; music was a big part of your life, at least you both had that in common. His eyes light up whenever you talk about a band or song that he likes too, gesturing so emphatically with his hand you have to remind him to look at the road. 
Pretty soon you're pulling up to a crossroads, except Eddie pulls over instead. 
"What's wrong?" 
He huffs, smiling at you sadly. 
"If I keep driving forward I've got to say goodbye to you, take you home," he admits. Your heart flutters at the admission. 
"Where do you live, Eddie?" He looks confused, but points to the left turning. 
"Eddie, turn left." 
"Really?" 
"Really. I was supposed to stay at Robin's tonight anyway." 
His grin is downright manic as he pulls back on the road, making short work of the drive to his trailer. 
He bundles you out of the van and opens the trailer door, both of your bags heaved over one of his shoulders. 
The sight of an older gentleman startles you as he potters around the kitchen area. 
"Hey! This is Wayne, my Uncle. Wayne, this is my girlfriend." 
Your eyes widen as he gives your name to his uncle and you shake hands with him, the roughest hand you think you've ever touched, but the softest grip. 
"Pleasure to meet you, miss. I'm heading out today, so I'll see you two later I'm guessing." 
He waves and smiles fondly at the pair of you, and leaves. 
"Sorry, thought he would've left already." He explains, pulling you both to the back of the trailer and into what you assume is his room. 
Allowing yourself to be led, still feeling shell shocked, you perch on the edge of his bed as he dumps the bags on the floor. 
Eddie's talking, saying how he wishes he tidied before he left, how the trailer's not much but it's home, and his uncle…
"Eddie, wait." 
He stops mid flow to look at you. 
"Girlfriend?" 
"Well yeah? I mean, if you want to. I didn't ask, did I?" He flushes pink, hand reaching up to nibble at his thumb. 
"I mean, you don't know me, really." You shrink, almost folding in on yourself. 
"Hey," he sits down next to you, stroking your jaw with his finger, "I know enough. And I let you touch my guitar. We're practically married now." 
Lips press softly to yours, a delicate touch that has all tension flying from your body in a rush. 
"Eddie…" You whisper, giving him a butterfly kiss with the tip of your nose. 
"Hmm?" 
"You smell really bad." 
He laughs and grabs you around the waist, pulling you down sharply to lay on the bed. 
"So do you." 
"A point well made." A response, but you don't move, snuggling deeper into his neck. 
"So, I've got an idea. Let's have showers, get into some comfy stuff, and cuddle. Probably got a movie or two we can watch?" 
The normalcy of the situation is surprising, but most welcome. 
Smiling wickedly, you nip at his neck and whisper in his ear. 
"One condition: we shower together." 
He groans loudly, hands stroking at any skin he can reach. 
"Fuuuck, sweetheart, I've created a monster." 
You laugh, and hold him tightly. Eddie Munson isn't so scary, after all.
Taglist (just some people I thought might like this, hope you don't mind!)
@eddiesprincess86 @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @roanniom @usedtobecooler @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiemunsonfuxks
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saltedpineapple · 4 months
Text
So JJK is over and my LMK brainrot is back , added with the fact i am playing a MOBA game and am being blessed with delicious illustrations it prompted me to make this
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Now i am going to ramble about this because this is the first time in forever where i kinda pushed myself to make a FULL art piece-
I will be standing for this-
Let me tell you, i had no confidence in this and the composition was supposed to be way different, but this still happened. This took two days because i kept procrastinating , walking around my room dreading drawing the background BIG ADVICE FOR BEGINNER ARTISTS Watch speedpaints. You will learn so much by watching the process and that was this for me I have the tendency to kinda burn myself out and finish everything in a day and then never actually finishing. Tried something different for this and made a cheap silhouette of a sketch, then drew over that and used greys and whites fort the shadows. Then i think i colored everything in a base color (and i finally used a palette) and then i tried to find the lighting and shadow colours. It was weird. And what im saying is that i planned most of it instead of diving head in withour a plan. Crazy i know-
I also just learned about dpi PROPERLY and unfortunately made my piece so big that it kept stalling paint tool sai-
let me just post the progress shots
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I also fucked up macaques reference and fixed it in a whim somewhere. You can see it here. I honestly wasn't planning to follow the lmk at style but that kinda happens when you're starring too much at the references.
There's still a mess and i wanted to render it a bit better ,the way i normally do but i didn't. Anyways i did enjoy the process and i actually miss them so much and i might watch LMK all over again Especially Wukong and MK
Btw this was supposed to be a moving illustration and i just didn't
I have Live2D but no
(Btw please check out my profile if you have the chance and thank you for reading this! Love you-)
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aidaronan · 1 year
Text
The years go by. The retail jobs that Steve thinks are temporary keep piling up, but he has no idea what else to do with his life so he just keeps on keeping on.
Until a large tree falls on the lawn of the little house he managed to buy and he gets the quote on removal and the number literally hurts his soul.
He buys a small chainsaw instead. Over the course of a few weeks, he gets most of the branches cut up. He collects some large rocks from down by the quarry and digs out a fire pit in his backyard. On his days off, his friends come over and they sit out back and have a few beers. The pile of wood dwindles. The giant trunk is another story though. His chainsaw isn't big enough for it. Burning it would take forever, and Steve's terrified he'd disappoint Smoky the Bear. He's at a loss.
Until he sees another giant trunk in someone's yard carved into a bear.
He knows what to do then. Not a bear, but something else. Through trial and error, the trunk becomes the rough shape of a woman, the remnants of the branches like a crown on her head. It's not as amazing as the bear he saw, but it's his. He finds he loves the smell of sawdust and the feeling of creating something.
Just like that, Steve realizes what he wants to do. It takes several months and a lot of yard sales, but he scrounges up the tools he needs to start woodworking. He learns to measure twice and cut once. He makes tables and chairs and carves them with art and designs that get better and better the more he learns. Shockingly, people actually buy his pieces.
Even more shocking comes the realization that he's making enough money to do it full time. He puts in his two weeks notice at Melvald's and hands in his assistant manager badge.
He's not sure he's happy, but he is content. It feels good to work hard and actually have things to show for it. It also feels good to work muscles he hasn't used since high school. He carries on for a few years like that, creating and learning and creating some more. Then Eddie Munson blows back into town. Invited back so Hawkins can have their most famous alumnus sing the national anthem at homecoming. Steve's honestly surprised he shows at all. "Can't believe you didn't tell them kiss your hairy ass," Steve says. Because of course Eddie ends up around his fire pit, sipping on Steve's cheap beer like he doesn't have three Grammy awards on his mantel. The years fall away with each drink, reminding Steve of just how much it had hurt when Eddie left. He'd wanted Eddie so bad back then, more than he'd ever wanted anyone. He can feel the echoes of that deep ache across time.
"Pfft. Don't you know all famous people wax our asses now? All the rage in LA." Eddie cuts a look at him and smirks when Steve rolls his eyes, grateful for the lighthearted moment to snap him out of his maudlin nostalgia. "Really though I thought about it, but then I thought it would be way funnier to donate a metric fuckton of money to Hawkins High with the stipulation that it go to the theater and band programs. Kind of bummed they couldn't honor my other request though."
"Which was?"
"My old Hellfire throne. I miss her, but apparently she's not around anymore. Something about water damage."
"Oh yeah. Water main busted a few years back and flooded the theater. I remember that." "Yeah. Had to settle for the promise they'd make a game lounge and stock it with all the supplies a budding young nerd needs."
"That's really nice, Eds."
Eddie shrugs. "I've been known to be nice on occasion. You'll come to homecoming, right? Moral support?"
Steve hasn't been to homecoming in years because he sees the other people who stayed in town all the time, and he has no interest in seeing the people who didn't. He can only answer the same questions so many times. Oh, I'm doing woodwork now. Yep, I still live right here. Nope, still not married, no kids.
He goes though, and he answers the uncomfortable questions. Because Eddie asked him to. Because no matter how long it's been, Steve can't deny that some part of him still...
He says goodbye after, and Eddie leaves again, and Steve tries not to think about that too much in the following days.
He's halfway into the project before he realizes what he's building. He'd seen Eddie's throne quite a few times back when. What he doesn't have memories of, he makes up. He adds his own touches too, making it a throne fit for a rock star, a nerd, a friend.
He carves ornate patterns, he creates scenes of dragons being beaten back by a man with a guitar, crowds of people that could be knights or concertgoers.
It's his favorite piece he's ever done, and his hands are shaking when he dials Eddie's number. He gets an answering machine and stumbles through a message.
"I made you something. I guess it's kind of silly, but it's here in Hawkins if you want it. Or I'm sure you can afford the shipping if you don't want to come. Just, I made you a chair. It's more of a... Well, you'll see. Unless you don't want to... It's Steve by the way." He hangs up before he can embarrass himself even more.
Eddie doesn't call him back. One day passes and then another. Steve tries not to let it get to him. He works on orders and new projects. He enjoys his little backyard oasis. He rents a few movies and thinks they're okay.
He's debarking some wood in his driveway when the rental car pulls up, Eddie stepping out in ripped jeans and an old Metallica tee. "Hi again, Stevie."
"Oh." Steve clears his throat. "The thing's in the garage. I'll..."
Eddie doesn't say anything for a long time, circling the throne, running his tattooed fingers over each little detail.
"You made this whole thing?"
"I did."
"For me?" Eddie looks at him then, one hand still touching the wood like he doesn't want to let go. Even under the harsh lights of the garage, his eyes are such a warm shade of brown that Steve forgets to breathe.
He nods. "For you."
"Why?"
There are a hundred answers Steve could give, but he spent so long not knowing who he was or who he wanted to be. Too long. "Because you'll always be the one that got away. Because some part of me will always want to make you smile no matter how long it's been."
Eddie falls into the throne like he just got the wind knocked out of him.
"You don't have to respond to that," Steve says. "You can just say thank you and take the chair."
"I can." Eddie blows out a breath. "But that would be incredibly stupid considering half my early ballads are about you."
"What?" Unfair. Steve doesn't have a chair to fall into.
"Oh sure, I changed the hes to shes for a while there because..." Eddie waves his hand. "But they're about you, Steve. God, I should've asked you out. I just thought..."
Hearing those words is a lot like seeing that carved bear all over again, something clicking into place that wasn't quite right before.
"Go out with me now then," Steve says. "Or stay in. I've got a frozen lasagna and I rented Contact."
"Steve Harrington? Asking Eddie 'the Freak' Munson on a date? Did hell freeze over?"
"Pfft." Steve takes a step closer toward what he wants most. "Hell froze over in 1986, Eddie. You were there."
Five months and a lot of long distance phone bills later, Steve opens Harrington Woodworking in Los Angeles. That same day, Eddie takes photos for Rolling Stone posing in an ornate throne in his living room. He tells the reporter exactly who made it and what he means. At concerts, he starts singing those ballads the way he always wanted to. More often than not, Steve stands in the wings singing along.
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midnightarcheress · 12 days
Text
thinking of you becoming price's personal lucky charm :)
cw: f!reader. slightly nsfw. very rushed/unedited. idk shit about casinos or card games lol. part one | part two
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when your friend begged you to dress up fancy and go out with them, a casino was not what you had in mind. especially not an underground one, entrance hardly visible in the dimly lit street, where you even needed a password to get in.
despite being far from your definition of a night out, you decide to give one of the games a chance. the roulette seemed the easiest, with seemingly less rules to learn, and to your surprise, you're crushing it. starting with safe outside bets, you make your way to straight bets and stay winning every single one of them. 
at your winning streak, you sense two sets of eyes on you, almost burning your flesh with the heat that crawls to your cheeks. you peek over your shoulder and meet two burly men, one with an icy stare and half-covered face, the other with an adorable boyish smirk and a mohawk. still, both glare at you with an intense puzzled gaze, laced with curiosity and an underlying hunger that makes you shiver. 
suddenly, you feel a rough hand settling on your lower back, nearly making you jump on your seat, “what does the pretty lady think about heading to the vip section?” the man says, pearly smile doing a perfectly good job in luring you in, “all that luck needs to be put to good use.”
you ponder for a second, fearing that once you’re in, all your fortune will slip out your fingers and the beginner’s luck will be gone forever. but his sweet brown eyes are too convincing, and you nod, taking his hand and walking through a mysterious door.
“i– i don’t know how to play poker,” you stutter, brows knitted together at the sight of a round table with piles of chips in the center.
"don't worry, love, you're not here to play," a bearded man says, gruff voice followed by a puff of his cigar. he seems a bit older than the one who brought you inside or the two observers, ocean-blue eyes looking at you tenderly, but the sly smirk on his face doesn't go unnoticed.
he pats his thigh, gesturing for you to sit, "my men say you've been quite lucky out there," a smoke cloud forms in front of him, mingling with the strong scent of his cologne, "let's check."
hesitantly, you comply, plush thighs meeting his firm one. he chuckles at your shyness and pulls you closer to his torso by your waist, positioning your ass right above his growing bulge and you bite back a squeal, "name's John."
the game restarts and you watch the dealer distributing the cards. you glance at his hand and he holds five cards, all hearts, which must be a good sign, given the way he squeezed your hip, certainly hard enough to leave a bruise. not that you minded, considering the damp spot forming between your legs.
"would you look at that, straight flush," he flashes you a grin, cigar dangling from his lips as his laugh echoes amongst the annoyed huffs of other players.
his fingers trace your spine, teasingly edging the waistband of your skirt as you try your best not to squirm, "mighty luck you have, love," he whispers in your ear, beard gently grazing your neck.
he hands you one of his golden chips, "for you, as a thank you," your eyes widen at the number 1000 etched in the back, promptly pushing back the gift. he shakes his head, palm sneaking its way to your inner thigh, "there's way more where that came from."
it's safe to say you might become an avid gambler after tonight.
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cheolhub · 1 year
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LOVE SCENE — LEE SEOKMIN ࿐
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summary. you’re scared that seokmin might want to go separate ways after graduation, but he proves, in more ways than one, that he wants you. forever.
wc. 2.3k
warnings. college au. nerdy soft dom!seokmin, breeding kink xx, obscene amounts of dirty talk, pinch of angst, literal love making, unprotected sex, marriage kink, HEAVY praise, baby talk, v minimal plot im sorry — MINORS DNI 18+
note. DAMN ok i have a lot to say so i’ll keep it short. ONE this was a request but like i kinda didn’t do anything the request asked for and im so sorry, i hope u can forgive me anon. TWO i literally lost sight of the plot so dont ask me abt any missing details ehehb just enjoy seok being hot <3 THREE happy belated birthday to my minnie <3 FOUR thank u to my luvr @rkiv4d for beta-ing. yas ok enjoy
p.s. reblogs and feedback are extremely appreciated— i also love to hear ur thoughts <3
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how seokmin pulled you, the most beautiful girl to ever walk the earth, he has no clue. he’s what people call a ‘nerd’ with his thick-rimmed glasses and his abnormally high IQ and you’re the pretty girl that didn’t understand the simplicity of covalent and ionic bonds who fell head over heels for him. 
you couldn’t help it, he was so smart and so fucking pretty. he was awkward and he giggled when he got nervous and he was so unbelievably goofy that it had you laughing till you cried. nevertheless, he was the most beautiful man ever. 
then you asked him out. he remembers it like it was yesterday. the last day of your chem class– the end of the first semester of your sophomore year– right after your final. you thanked him incessantly, giving him a hug for helping you get a B in the class. you told him you’d rather thank him another way— another way being a date. with you. at your place with a homemade dinner. 
he would’ve been stupid to decline. so he didn’t. and the rest was history. seokmin became your boyfriend, grew more confident in himself, and fell in love with you.
now you’re in your final year, the last few weeks approaching quickly, and you’ve been anxious. anxious about seokmin leaving you, anxious about going separate ways after graduation, anxious that this was all just fun and games till it was time to get serious about life.
seokmin has picked up on your behavioral patterns over the past 2 years. he knows you so well, probably better than anyone else in your life– probably better than he knows himself. 
so when seokmin sees you evading his eyes with his cock stretching you open, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 
“hey,” he whispers, stilling inside of you. when you don’t turn your head and your eyes are still closed, he calls for you. “baby?”
you feel your heart clench at the pet name. “hmm?” you hum.
“baby, do you not wanna do this anymore?” he questions worriedly, ready to pull away from you. “i can pull out.”
you mumble, “i-i do.” 
he cocks his head even more confused, “talk to me, pretty, what’s going on?”
he pushes into you some more, making you gasp and you can feel his expectant eyes burning holes into your face. you then realize he’s not gonna let this go, but it’s partially your fault for letting your mind wander while he was putting away the dinner you guys ate. you decide to just come out with it.
“‘m just… so scared of graduating…” you whimper between your words, eyes screwing tighter. 
he hums, “look at me, baby.” the demand comes out so soft, yet the sheer dominance of his voice makes you clench around him. you turn your head on the pillow, opening your eyes, and finally looking at him. “why?”
you shudder at the eye contact. he looks so pretty, so concerned over you, yet you’re still tense and oh-so nervous. the topic of post-grad has never come up, and now you’re mid-fuck about to tell him how you want to be with him forever. 
“i-i’m scared that… that you’re gonna go off without me,” you pant, hands wrapping around his biceps and holding him to keep you stable. 
“where am i gonna go, beautiful?” he whispers, bottoming out and fully sheathing himself inside of you. 
you whimper again, his massive cock filling you so well. “s-scared you’re gonna go do big things ‘n leave me…” 
he freezes at that, eyes widening, “leave you?” he asks incredulously as if he couldn’t believe that you’d ask that question. “baby, you think i’d leave you?” 
you nod slowly. “i dunno, ‘s just that i’ve been thinking ‘n you’re so smart– gonna go get a real job that’s across the country or something…” 
he’s honestly bewildered. why would you ever think something like that when he’s tried so hard to show you how much he loves you every single day?
“oh, baby, i would never fucking leave you.” he presses his forehead yours, nose rubbing against yours. “pretty fucking thing, i adore you— love you. more than anything.”
your eyes glisten with tears at the reassurance. you feel yourself relax under him, entirely fluttering at his words. “really?”
“yes, really. how can i prove it to you? want me to put a ring on your finger?” he whispers, breath fanning against your face. 
you gasp, clenching around him again, fingers digging into his muscles. he smiles, chuckling airly at your reaction. 
“my pretty baby wants that? you like that idea?” he asks, his sultry voice filling your ears. “you wanna be my wife?”
you nod your head, eyes fluttering shut as you moan, “yeah, w-wanna be your wife.” 
your response has seokmin reeling. he pulls his hips back and slams back into you making both of you moan again. 
“yeah? bet you want my kids, too.” he states boldly, mind cringing at his words and internally freaking out that you’ll get turned off at them. 
you choke, clamping tightly around his length. “f-fuck.” you cry. “d-don’t say things like that, seok.”
“why? ‘cuz i’m right?” he grunts, thrusts growing faster.
you nod your head and seokmin nearly cries, cock twitching at the idea of pumping you full of cum and getting you pregnant with his kids. you’d be such a great mom and he’d love having a mini-seok running around a nice, big house fit to take a family. 
admittedly, he’s been wanting to talk about his future with you. he’s been fantasizing about it since the first time he said he loved you. fantasizing about you being his wife and living together in a big house and having three kids and living happily ever after as if it were some fairytale. he’s imagined your kids and how they would be a constant reminder of his everlasting love for you. he hopes that they’ll look like both of you– kids with your eyes and his nose. he’d kill for that.
“wanna put a baby in you,” he mumbles, lips ghosting over yours. “swear to god, ‘m gonna give you everything you want– ‘ll get you a ring ‘n a house– everything. just say the word.”
you lift your head to press your lips to his, moaning into his mouth like a mad woman. your stomach drops in anticipation, suddenly craving the feeling of his warm cum filling you to the brim, sure to get you pregnant. your legs wrap around him, heels digging into his back and you can’t resist the cry that he ends up swallowing at the new angle. 
seokmin pulls back, panting, “gonna let me give it to you, baby?” 
“uh-huh!” you nod, eyes screwing shut and jaw going slack as his speed increases. “yes, yes, please give it to me.” your response is wavered as you nearly choke on a sob of pleasure. 
and you know the decision is haste– a baby even though you still have a month left of undergrad seems… absurd to say the very least, but you don’t need to think about anything. you know seokmin. you know he’s the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. he's an amazing boyfriend and person in general. you already know he’d make an even more amazing husband and father. 
who would’ve thought the nerdy man with glasses who was insanely good at chemistry would be the one you ended up with?
he lets out a guttural moan, “such a good girl, always saying please.” he praises, slamming into your sweet spot repeatedly.
and jesus fucking christ, your moans and cries are like music to his fucking ears. 
his head falls into your neck, licking and sucking at your skin. “never gonna leave, i promise. gonna make you mine, gonna take care of you.” he mumbles into the skin as he continues to mark and ravage you. 
the stimulation and his words are sending you into orbit as your stomach churns and tightens at the feeling of his cock rearranging your insides. his strokes are impressive, never missing a beat and unrelentingly hitting the spot that makes you crumble. 
he feels you tighten around him, gummy walls squeezing him in and he curses, “shit, is my pretty girl gonna cum already?” his voice borders on condescending, but it only makes the tightrope in your stomach all the more closer to completely unraveling. 
“y-yeah, so close,” you moan breathily as your pants increase, chest rising and falling rapidly. “so fuckin’ close, min, ‘m gonna cum.”
his lips find your ear and he whispers hotly against the shell, “come on, baby, cum for me so i can fill you up.” he gently tugs at your earlobe with his teeth and you can’t resist, back arching with a shiver running down your spine.
your orgasm brings you immense pleasure, white spots filling your vision as you cum with a loud sob. you feel it in your entire body, from your curled toes to your thrown back head. your eyes roll back, calling out his name and raking your nails down the skin of his arms. 
he coos, holding back a groan at the way you get even tighter as you soak him in arousal. “thaaat’s it, baby, just like that. so, so good for me.” he coaxes you through your euphoric high, fucking you through it as he always does. 
“s-so good,” you slur, parroting his words as your mind numbs a bit. 
he moans, letting the sound of your whimpers and the lewd sounds of your bodies meeting fill the room. he buries his head in your neck again, desperately rutting into you so he can let go, too. your eyes flutter closed again and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to you. 
your overstimulated pussy pulses around him as you listen and whine along to your lover's muffled moans. you can tell he’s close. so close to giving you the life you’ve imagined for almost 2 years. so close to being yours forever. 
“seok, cum inside me,” you whisper and his hips stutter, yet they keep moving as if they have a mind of their own. he lifts his head and looks at you– his eyes are clouded over and teary, yet they’re filled with all the love in the world.
he looks so beautiful above you. his face is scrunched up in pleasure, brows knitted, eyes droopy, mouth hung open as pretty sounds exit his loose lips.
“i… fucking love you…so much.” he says in between pants, thrusts growing sloppy. the telltale signs of his fast approaching orgasm becoming heavily apparent. “god, so much, baby, love you so much.”
you nod your head, mirroring his pleasured face. “me too, seok, i love you.” your words are a bit scrambled, but seokmin makes sense of them– understands you so well. 
his eyes roll back a bit at your response, brain momentarily malfunctioning, but he comes back seconds later. “gonna take this load like a good girl, right, pretty? gonna get pregnant and let me marry you?” he moans out breathily, cock now twitching uncontrollably. 
“yes, yes, yes, please, wan’ it so bad!” you beg.
it’s all he needs to press his hips to yours, stilling there, and releasing inside of you while he moans out your name so prettily. it’s a newfound feeling for both of you– his cum coating your cunt, filling you up till it’s spilling on his freshly washed sheets. he’s grown accustomed to finishing on your skin or into a condom, but this? this is all very new. this is something he now can’t live without.
you think the same thing when you feel him spraying your walls with his thick ropes of cum. it feels so good– so euphoric– while it’s leaking out of you. you don’t know how you’ve gone your entire adult life without experiencing this at least once.  
“c-came so much, baby…” you whimper, feeling him pull his cock out of you. 
as soon as he sees his release dripping out of you, he groans softly, already feeling hard again, but he decides to ignore it for now, bringing his attention back to you.
“hey… love,” he says softly, noticing the way you perk up a bit from your tired state just at the sound of your name. “you should’ve told me you felt like that… i hate that you thought i’d just leave you ‘cause we won’t be in school anymore.”
you frown, “i’m sorry, i didn’t know how to bring it up without being awkward… it’s the real world and i dunno… things are different.”
he sighs, hands running up and down your naked sides. “i get it, but like i said, i wanna be with you forever.”
you blush, biting your lip to hide the wide grin that ends up on your face despite the fact. “yeah, i remember… was that a proposal by the way?” you ask meekly. 
he squeezes at your waist, “did you want it to be?” he beams.
“i mean, it was a bit untraditional, definitely not how i expected my wedding proposal to be.” 
“what? you mean you didn’t think you’d get proposed to while i had my dick inside you?” he asks with faux incredulity. “i, for one, thought this was the best proposal ever. i even put a lil baby in you.”
you giggle, wrapping your legs around his body again, “you don’t know that, i’m not pregnant… yet.”
his heart swells at the idea and he smiles brightly at your blushy face, “well, maybe another round can change that, hmm?”
you pull him closer to you by the strength of your legs and say, “make me yours then, seokmin.”
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songsofadelaide · 1 month
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Means Something
There were always two sides to a story. Laios Touden was the worst person to fall in love with. But somehow, Laios Touden knew right from the start that you were the perfect person to fall in love with.
cw: Laios x f!cleric reader, manga spoilers, fluff, reader is so whipped for this man - he reciprocates in kind. No use of yn and instead follows my usual naming convention (I use Imogene as a placeholder for yn since it means maiden, which pretty much means yn too). Mentions of procreation (but not the act itself lol), and inaccurate depictions of the Dungeons & Dragons game. wc: 2.6k
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When you first joined the Touden siblings' party, you had the most difficult time trying to earn the trust of each member, especially Marcille, who had some qualms about your skills as a homeschooled cleric. Chilchuck and Namari had the same concern: the dungeon was no place for a noble girl like you, no matter how good you were with your healing magic. Shuro was quick to defend your entry, though, pointing out that as a daughter of nobility, 'you must have had access to only the finest teachers of magic your family could provide.' He was right about that.   
But their opinions didn't matter much when it was Falin herself who wanted you in the party. She happily welcomed you aboard when she heard about your struggles trying to get a party to accept a rookie cleric in their ranks. And if Falin thought you were a good person, then you were good enough for Laios, too. 
"The more people we have in our corner, the easier the job gets done, right?"  
…And the way he welcomed you with a twinkle in his honey-coloured eyes and a smile that shamed the sun was forever burned in your mind. 
Little did you know that Laios Touden was the worst person to fall in love with. 
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When your family caught wind of your party's disastrous exit from the dungeon, you were promptly summoned back to your estate, as though further proving their point that the dungeon wasn't a place for someone like you. Yet you promptly burned the missive and sought out Laios the first moment you could. 
…And you caught him, Marcille, and Chilchuck enjoying a meal made of monsters on the first floor of the dungeon— along with a new dwarf companion, Senshi, who had the street smarts and a taste for unorthodox gastronomic delights. While Laios was delighted to see you, he was evidently more enthralled by the taste of the hotpot he chowed down to the quick. 
And while it tasted amazing, you couldn't help but be a little apprehensive about the whole set-up. "So we've resorted to eating monsters now?"
"You can always head back to the surface if the thought makes your stomach turn," Chilchuck replied nonchalantly. 
"I-I'm staying! I want to save Falin, too!"
"Then let's hear less complaining and start working a bit more, okay?"
Laios was more apologetic. "I'm in no position to be asking for help, but we'd really appreciate having you around. Though our meals and rations aren't… the usual."
Good grief, you thought to yourself. Laios and his morbid, burning fascination with monsters wasn't new to you. He and Falin were cut from the same cloth, after all. His enthusiasm for the unusual was more endearing than repulsive to you and Shuro surprisingly understood your sentiment well enough to agree. You would pretty much do anything for the Touden siblings— even if they didn't ask.
"You don't have to worry about me, Laios. I… I'll be all right! Now let's go save Falin!"  
And if Senshi could guarantee that the monster meals he cooked were safe to consume, then you were more than all right. 
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When Senshi and Chilchuck surveyed your surroundings and deemed it safe to make camp, you did whatever you could to make yourself useful to the party as you always did. Senshi's aversion to using magic for the most basic tasks made that more difficult than usual because magic is all you've ever known. The dwarf would delegate the simplest tasks to you, though, as if reassuring you that your presence is still very much appreciated. 
Food is fellowship.
…Or at least that's how you felt about everything now— ever since Senshi started whipping up all these amazing meals for everyone. Except it isn't just food. 
He often asks you to hand-wash some monster parts before he starts cooking— before transforming them into nutritious meals— "The heat'll kill the germs and all, but washing these adds an extra layer of protection fer us."
You couldn't help but overhear the rest of the party's discussion when they thought you were still busy washing vegetables and monster parts. Senshi said you were surprisingly diligent with your work, no matter how simple it was. 
"That kind of woman will make a good wife, Laios." 
Chilchuck groaned, and you imagined him shaking his head in disapproval. "Don't give him any ideas, Senshi! Party romances are awful and cause nothing but chasms between members!"
"So you must have noticed it, too, Senshi!" Marcille exclaimed rather excitedly. "You must have seen how Imogene looks at Laios!"
"Me?" The tall-man remarked with a look of complete disbelief, no doubt. "What about me?"
You were certain Izutsumi had no interest in this particular conversation and was supposedly curled up in a corner, one ear perked up in maybe a faint bit of amusement.
"Yes, you, you dolt," she replied. "What do you think of Imogene?"
"And don't think we don't notice how you treat her, Laios," said Chil, who surely had an exasperated expression on his face now. "It's like you never learn!"
That's strange, you thought. Laios always treated everyone in the party equally and trusted everyone unequivocally. And while you never paid much thought to how thoughtful he was… Wait, does he really treat me that differently?!
"Well, I think she's…"
Oh, you couldn't possibly bear the thought of having to hear what Laios thought about you. You were cool with being friends and fellow adventurers, never mind the fact that he was more interested in which monster to pair up with which vegetable and spice. Never mind that you've liked him from the beginning. 
"I-I'm back!" You stepped out of the shadows and squeaked at them as you hauled the basin of vegetables and monster parts next to Senshi. "I, uh, did exactly as you told, Senshi. Washed the mushrooms very carefully a-and…"
"Thank ye kindly," he nodded at you as he took the basin from your hands. "You all right, Imogene? You're a little warm to the touch."
"Oh, no! Are you feeling sick?! L-Let's—!" Marcille asked with a panicked look on her face. 
"I should check your temperature just to be sure, Imogene. We can't have anyone getting sick now," Laios stated as he moved to approach you, but you surprised him and the rest of the party by rebuffing his advance. 
"N-No! I'm fine, really!" You raised your hands in defence. "I-In fact, I'm starving! Like super hungry! Humongous hungry! S-So let's get cooking!"
You usually steered clear of Senshi's warpath when he was cooking, but neither Chilchuck nor Marcille could peel you from his side this time, even though it was clear that the heat of the fire made you incredibly uncomfortable. 
"Y'know, Imogene… I might scald ye if yer not careful where you step," the cook said. "How's about you help Marcille with the bowls instead?" 
"O-Okay, Senshi…"
"And don't avoid Laios. He's pretty dense and all, but you and I both know that he'll notice when something's a li'l diff'rent."
A small, ungraceful whine of protest left your lips when you realised just how Senshi never failed to notice even the most minuscule changes in everyone's movements. Marcille was happy to have you next to her and even made sure that you truly weren't sick like everyone thought. 
The hearty meal was portioned and doled out and your eyes were once more inexplicably drawn to the leader of your band, his monologue about the richness of the flavours dancing in his mouth falling on deaf ears save yours… Laios and his praising comments about Senshi's cooking made every meal more palatable than the last, and it made the thought of consuming monsters all the more bearable for you. 
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Everyone was either asleep in their sleeping bags or trying to, and you fell into the latter category. It wasn't just you, though, because Laios approached your bedding almost soundlessly, sitting next to you far too comfortably that your elbows brushed against each other. 
"How are you feeling, Imogene?" 
"Oh, Laios. I'm all right. No need to worry." 
Even in the light of the small, dying embers of the campfire, his sharp features stood out impeccably— the fine line of his jaw, the length of his neck— now exposed without any of his armour, the breadth of his shoulders slightly stretching his tunic, as though slightly showing the tenseness of his arms… His rigid torso— Wait, snap out of it! 
"I see. Let me just check, then." 
Your closeness did not bother you one bit. This was Laios, after all, and he cared for everyone in your party as—
Looking back, he did offer his hand to you more often than anyone else. He frequently entrusted Kensuke to you since you were the only one who could stomach holding the monster sword, too. And the way he'd tell you to 'watch your step, it's dark' with his voice so grounding and reassuring… 
Laios gently held your cheek as he rested his forehead against your own, his eyes closed for a quiet moment as though in silent observation. 
Oh. Oh, dear. 
"Hmm. You do look all right, but you're a little bit warm… Imogene?"
He opened his amber eyes to the sight of your wide gaze and quivering lip. 
Tact wasn't his greatest attribute, but his slight carelessness and cluelessness were endearing to you, too. 
"A-Are you okay?"
"Geez, Laios, you really have no clue what you do to me," you said with a defeated sigh. "Listen to me for a bit, will you?"
The tenseness left his shoulders as you tenderly reached for his hand that held your face just mere moments ago. You lowered your lashes and determined that you couldn't look at him straight, not with his honey-coloured eyes gazing back at you so earnestly. 
"I like you, Laios. A lot. If you want me to be more specific and scientific about things, I like you and I want to procreate with you. I want to have your babies. Philosophically, I like you so much that if we ever die and be reincarnated, I'd search the entire world just so I could be by your side again."
"Wh—"
"A-And you don't have to respond to my feelings at all! Not yet, at least!" You sputtered at him as you finally raised your eyes to meet his own. "We… Saving Falin is our top priority. Everything else can wait!" 
"But—"
"No b-buts, Laios! I—"
"Imogene."
His larger hand squeezed your own, grounding your querulous thoughts until you steadied your gaze at him again. On his face was a pensive look that suggested the depths of his own thoughts, only for his words to betray him. 
"So you're saying you like me to the point of procreation."
What? 
And the warmth you've been trying to keep at bay simply rose to your face once more in the form of sheer embarrassment. "Was that all you heard from what I just said?!" 
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Laios Touden knew right from the start that you were the perfect person to fall in love with.
When Falin mentioned to him that your curiosity about the world drew you out of your esteemed home— regardless of your family's dissatisfaction with your choice of a career— it was like she found herself a kindred spirit. Him, too, he couldn't help but think. And wow, you were pretty. You were reserved but steadfast, and he understood the way of this world well enough to know that your kindness would get taken advantage of if you joined the wrong crew. 
When he lost Falin to the Red Dragon, he expected that you would be spirited back to your home. Still, he felt a weight lifted off his shoulders when you met on the First Floor of the dungeon, your determination to get back who you lost ablaze even though you were faced with the prospect of consuming monsters for sustenance. 
Senshi didn't have to mention it. You truly were a diligent worker who would make any man happy— any home happy. Laios entertained the thought of a warm home with you by his side— maybe with Falin, too, (and the rest of the party, for some reason) but he knew what he had to do to make that daydream a reality. 
And to think that you liked him back all this time. 
You didn't ask for much on your journey into the very depths of the dungeon, but you remained steadfast and faithful to the mission— even when the party entered a whole different dimension, and even when you were faced with the weight and reality of your nightmares and desires. 
—The same look of disappointment on your parents' face. But there was Laios, too. His ash blonde hair and eyes the colour of the sweetest honey from the comb. His long and sturdy arms encasing you in an embrace, the weight of his body over yours, the tenderness of his kiss— (Your stomach round with a baby that looks just like him.)
Even when he became the Lord of the Dungeon, and even when you were faced with his monstrous, chimera-like form, what anchored you and kept you afloat was your steadfast and profound love for Laios and who he was. 
And when Falin awoke from her deep, deep sleep with a hunger for something unearthly, you remembered just how much you liked her, too. 
When you told Laios that he didn't have to respond to your feelings so soon, he respected your fortitude and eventually returned your sentiments in kind by making you his queen, much to your surprise and chagrin. (He enjoyed procreating with you more than he let on. But he'll let his eccentric, boisterous and lively household do the talking for him.) 
As king, he had a mountain of tasks to accomplish to set things in their proper order, but he was never too busy to share a meal with you, and the rest of your friends, too.
The tale of the love that grew between the king of the sunken kingdom, the Devourer of All Things Horrible, and his beloved queen— who was also his comrade-in-arms— became a classic, cherished romance in their kingdom for aeons to come. 
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— 202X.
[ Dungeons & Dragons Potluck Night. Food is fellowship! Adventure awaits! ]
…Is what the colourful poster says. Something about it made you inexplicably drawn to it, as though your heart is saying 'go!'. You moved to this little island town in search of purpose and meaning, but perhaps all you wanted was a place to belong. 
So when the door to the small community club swung open and heralded your arrival, you presented the bewildered group— a young man around your age, his younger sister by the looks of it, no doubt, a blonde woman with a sharp, intellectual gaze, a slightly older man with a penchant for teasing, a heavily-bearded senior citizen whose observant eyes remain razor-edged, and a girl with a black cat— with some oxtail and tripe stew in a savoury peanut sauce while they were still in the middle of a quest they couldn't quite finish on their own, the coloured dice and makeshift board on their wide table seemingly untouched for the last hour. 
You said you didn't have much experience with the game, but you were willing to learn even more about it if you were welcome. 
The young man with the ash blonde hair and eyes the colour of honey beamed at you with a smile that shamed the sun. 
"We've been waiting for you!" He said. "The more people we have in our corner, the easier the job gets done, right?" 
Whether it was fate or the universe conspiring to bring you to him— like a promise made in a lifetime past, it was already pretty clear that you'd fall in love with Laios Touden in this lifetime, too. 
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✦ Means Something playlist ✦ ✦ AO3 Link ✦
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reverieblondie · 2 months
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Could I request headcanons for Rolan, Haarlep, Gale, Halsin, Wyll, and Astarion with shy gn s/o?
Sorry this took forever! This is my first time doing headcanons and was unsure how to format it. The last bullet point for each character is NSFW just as a warning. I hope you enjoy!
Did the same HCs for Raphael and Zevlor here
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Rolan
When you two first meet, he misread your shyness as apprehension towards him. Now he knows that you are just painfully shy, leaning more towards quiet. The way you two became close was through his siblings Cal and Lia; those two extroverts, of course, were set on becoming friends with you. They will pull you into their family conversations, you will listen to how they lovingly bicker, with a smile. Rolan slowly starts to get used to you being near and finds himself missing you when you are gone, not that he would ever admit that to you however. Your relationship with Rolan will bloom over time the more private time you two share.  
Once together, Rolan is making you blush by pure accident. At first, he didn’t notice what he would be doing until he turned to see your flustered face while his tail curled around your leg, seemingly of its own accord. The first couple of times it happened he would apologize and remove himself from you, it wasn’t until you grabbed his hand and leaned in closer with your cheeks blazing red, whispering how you enjoyed the closeness. At that he decided he would keep doing it more intentionally. 
One of his favorite things to do for you is to write you notes and secretly slip them to you. Rolan can struggle with expressing himself, so writing it for you tends to be easier for him and you. You always look forward to reading the notes as soon as you get them, though sometimes he has to whisper in your ear to read them in private when his words lead towards more intimate confessions that will leave your head spinning all night. 
A date night for you two is a lovely night in which you two share a bottle of wine he carefully selected after much research of what would be the best mix of both your tastes. Then, curling up with you in front of a burning fireplace with a book that you, of course, got to pick out for him to read till the late hours of the night. 
When you and Rolan are in each other's intimate embrace, tangled up together and sharing in soft pants and shy whispers he does anything to make you moan. It makes him feel good to help bring out your shy moans for him, letting him know he is doing a good job bringing you intense pleasure.  
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Haarlep
As they laid eyes on your flushed figure taking in their appearance only one thought crossed their mind; corrupt you. Finds your reserved nature delicious and loves to fluster you in any way possible. At first, it was all just a game but as they kept seeing you more and more they started to get excited by your presents. The teasing never stops and sure they can sometimes push you a bit far that you're practically a melted puddle of feelings but Haarlep just isn't used to such shyness, they love it.  
Loves to make you blush and relish in how you tremble when they whisper filth in your ear. They will brush their lips against the shell of your ear talking about all the ways they want to break you out of your shell, it still makes you fill with shivers of excitement no matter how many times they tease you. Haarlep will even try to sway you to talk dirty to them with sweet coos and sugared promises.
If you do start feeling brave enough to attempt to talk dirty back to them, Haarlep would laugh and tease you with playful kisses and pinches to your sides. Though half the time they can’t make it to that part considering when they watch you try to stumble out the words from your trembling lips they can’t help themselves from leaning in to bite your sweet lips in a passionate kiss. 
For a date night, Haarlep admittedly loves a nice spa night. Sure, they could just take you in bed all night long but they find themselves relishing in the way you two take care of one another for a night. Not used to people wanting to pamper them like you do but is more than willing to accept it. You two will take a nice long bath together, taking the time to wash each other carefully. Then once washed and dried expect long messages with delicate-smelling oils to ease and soften each other's muscles. They will try to slip into some naughtiness but you assure them they don't have to. This is a different level of intimacy they could get used to. 
When you two do find yourselves letting your spa night turn into something spicier Haarlep isn’t just going to let you get away with just getting what you want, no, they want you to beg for it to plead for what you're wanting. They just can’t help but tease their shy little thing, making you come undone with a pleading cry of your desires. 
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Gale
When he first met you he was a bit thrown by your silent nature. So what did he end up doing to compensate for your silence? Rambling on and on to you about everything and nothing trying to get anything from you but only being met with your shy smiles and pleasant nods. Ultimately thought you didn’t like him, which is far from the truth you thought he was interesting but you just are not much of a talker but you noticed the dejected look in his eyes as he left to go make dinner for the camp. Later when you worked up the nerve to ask him for more stories from his youth and studies of the weave he was more than excited to start talking on and on again. Slowly but surely you two clicked with the dynamic of him being the sweet chatterbox and you the calm listener.
Gale always showers you with compliments, always making you blush with how he pours his heart out to you. He is a hopeless romantic and so are you, though sometimes the compliments seem to come from nowhere. You could be standing in the market trying to pick out vegetables for the night's dinner and he would come to you with a smile praising how your face in concentration is a marvel to witness. Instantly your chest warms and the lady who owns the vegetable booth states you are lucky to have such a loving partner. 
When he's not showering you in compliments he's showering you in kisses. This man can not keep his lips off you for a single second, he's entirely devoted to you. Would be more than willing to leave your skin covered in hickeys if you were to allow it, and sometimes despite your meek nature you do. You don’t even mind how the beard slightly scratches your skin, you love that he is so open and so willing to show what you mean to him. 
Gale's very favorite date night between you two is a nice night where you two can prepare a meal together. While you two pour over the recipe together it's a great time to unwind about each other's day while leaving gentle touches on each other. You could be mixing the sauce and as soon as he's done chopping the vegetables you feel his arms curling around your waist while his lips press against your flushed skin. Sure your two might burn the food slightly when you two get caught up in cuddling with one another but nothing a little bit of magic can’t fix. 
Gale loves to press himself against you, you can bet that after dinner he will have you on your back as he grinds into on top of the table. You have already reached that white-hot bliss a couple of times now but Gale keeps going, keeps pressing long strokes into you as hot tears rush down your cheeks, you stumbling and mumbling how it's too much but he just begs for one more…
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Halsin
Clocked your timidness as soon as he laid his hazel eyes on you. He introduces himself to you and asks you questions about yourself listening with a soft smile as you speak, being patient as you at first give short answers then slowly beaming how your answers get longer and longer. Before he knows it you two are being more open towards one another. Loves to see you coming out of your shell and is more than welcoming to your quiet nature. All of nature's creatures are made differently, you would often apologize for being so timid but he would only smile and place his hand over his heart reassuring you that nature makes no mistakes. 
Eye contact is extremely important to him, he considers it disrespectful if he doesn’t look into his partner's eyes. This was an adjustment for you being so shy from him staring as you speak. Loves how your cheeks flush and your sweet voice trembles as you try to keep your resolve and lead the conversion. Halsin loves you no matter what but is proud of your efforts to lead conversions more, he is sure to tell you this always.  
Loves to give pet names to his partner, when he first called you his heart you swear all the air in your lungs was swiftly knocked from you. Halsin, ever observant, saw your startled reaction and asked if the name made you uncomfortable because he is all about your comfort first and foremost. It was his turn to be surprised when you shook your head with a bashful smile saying that now you will have to find a pet name for him in return. 
Completely understands your want for nice quiet dates so he will always take you for late nice hikes to show you the beauties of nature, of course during the walk he will softly hold your hand and talk to you about all the different plants and animals you two would come across. Before you two reach your destination he will carefully cover your eyes and lead you to the spot he wanted to show you since he found it. Uncovering your eyes you see the tall elf smiling as you look out over the cliff and see nature's majesty. Right as you think it couldn't get more incredible shooting stars fall from the sky is a shimmering shower. Oak  father has truly blessed them tonight. 
While you two are undressing to embrace one another he will rake his eyes all over your body. As he lays you down against the forest floor's soft grass, takes his time to kiss and touch every part of your body worshiping to get to see you in your natural glory all for him to partake in. You're not ashamed to admit his hands over your body make you come out of your shell like no other can.   
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Wyll
When Wyll met you he faced your shyness with friendliness to get you to feel more comfortable. When he joined your camp he immediately started helping out in any way he could. Need help setting up tents? He will politely ask to help you and proves himself to be quite resourceful. Loves to tell you stories of his travels to you as you work together and smiles as he sees your eyes sparkle in enchantment with his stories. Going to get firewood he offers to tag along to keep you company. While you two walk together you will share your stories, though in your opinion they are not as grand as his but it doesn't seem to stop him from being engaged as asking you to explain further in detail for him to fully picture it. Before you know it you and him are sitting and chatting for hours like you have been together for years. The vibes and electric energy he radiates are just too contagious to not get wrapped in, and you love it. 
Wyll is all about public displays of affection, he wants to show you off and is hopeful you feel the same for him, which you do. His hand is either in your hand or he somehow has his hand wrapped around your waist. Wants to show you all the love possible. And you can't help but blush as he unapologetically gives you kisses in the street not caring if others see. When you sadly do have to break apart for a moment he blows you kisses as you walk away, you of course catch them and hold them to your heart and sometimes if you are feeling brave you will blow one back.
Loves to have you sit in his lap, not in a creepy way but in a sweet way wanting to hold you close. He doesn't care where you are or who you two are with. If he gets the opportunity he will pull you down to his lap and nuzzle softly into your neck. Sometimes if it is late at night and you two are cuddling by the campfire you will find yourself falling asleep in his embrace, Wyll loves that you have become so comfortable in his arms and will spend the night softly brushing your hair back from your face while you sleep. 
It's no surprise that for your dates you two go out to a local tavern to dance. At first, you shyly admitted to him that you were not a good dancer but Wyll is very patient and will carefully guide you and smile through gritted teeth as you step on his feet. Over time however and through many dates you two become quite the dancing partners. However, if the dance floor becomes too crowded and you start to feel shakenly overwhelmed he will lead you to a private corner and gently sway with you whispering how much he adores you.  
In the late nights of each other's embrace as you two shower each other in devotion, he will whisper honey praises into your ears. How well you take him. How much he loves you. How he wants to be with you forever to see you unravel before him like in this intimate moment of intense pleasure. 
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Astarion
Rolls his eyes as he watches you trying to stumble through conversions. How can someone with no social skills make it through the world? You of course were intimidated by him and when he would speak to you it would always leave you overwhelmed but you never thought poorly of him you understood that it was perhaps how he coped through situations like you go through yours meekly. First Astrion saw your kindness and shyness as weakness, but slowly over time as you two opened up towards each other he saw it as a good thing. Feels safe to be vulnerable towards you and you are more than happy to open up to him late at night when you two can't sleep. Your relationship started through friendship and understanding, but still teases you any chance he gets. 
Teases you endlessly, his favorite is when he gets the chance to sneak up on you and cover your eyes, he never gets over your startled little squeak in surprise at the impromptu game of Guess Who. By now you know that it is Astrion and will guess him quickly as you hold your hands on top of his cold ones. When you two are at the shops or camp he loves to shoot you flirtatious winks from across the way, it never fails to make you blush. Though you will never forget when you saw the look of surprise on his face when you winked back at him before slipping into his tent, he would later tell you it was very naughty of you to surprise him with that. 
After you two had been together and learned about each other's past he found himself needing to just have quiet moments with you. You would be getting ready for bed oiling your skin as you hum softly to yourself. Astarion would lower his book and just watch you for a moment, at a time you had been too shy to even talk to him but now here you two are sharing a bed. Carefully and quickly he would slip behind you and hug you tenderly. At first, you were startled and thought something could be wrong but as you softly ask he simply shakes his head and says he just wants to be close to you for a moment, no games just tenderness. You are more than happy to give him that moment. 
Late-night dates at the rare late-night markets in Baldur's Gate are a real treat and you two are more than happy to go on a shopping date for the night. Astarion will watch as you admire all the exotic merchandise from across Faerun oooing and ahhing at everything. He of course notices that you take particular interest in a fancy-looking ring, but you could not justify buying it for yourself. Later when you two are wrapping up your date for the night he will suddenly stop you kiss your hand then slip said ring on one of your fingers, you would stumble and say how he shouldn't have it and how it was too expensive, but he reassures you that he got a five finger discount. 
You two waited a while before making love with one other, you wanted it to be special and you wanted him to know how much him being  comfortable meant to you before you did. He of course reassures you by kissing you passionately till your two are stumbling into the bed. Though the kisses and the foreplay were ravenous when he finally slipped into your tight entrance, he is slow and soft, constantly asking if you are alright. Through bashful glances you kiss him softly as he lets you adjust to his length, this is truly the definition of making love.
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11vr1 · 11 months
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Still Yours ⭒ Miles Morales
Part one: Been Away
Synopsis › You’re still his. You just need a little reminder.
Pairing › Earth-42! Miles Morales x Reader
Inspo › “Still Yours (feat. Big Sean)” - Bryson Tiller, Big Sean
Includes › ATSV SPOILERS, angst, fluff, swearing, Spanish, toxicity, going back to your ex, man has a staring problem, stalking, mentions of violence, manhandling i think?, kissing, terrible grammar, maybe some continuity errors (don’t think about it too hard)
P.S. › I had to write this part on my phone because my house has no wi-fi. Forgive me.
You were a vision as your head threw back in laughter at something your friend said. Absolute perfection in the way your uniform fits in all the right places and the gentle swoop of your edges framing your glowing skin in the harsh fluorescent lighting. It was aggravating. “When did she get that?” Miles’ rich eyes narrowed at you and your group of friends.
His best friend looked up from his phone in your direction. He didn’t need to ask who she was. “Get what?” he sighed, already sensing where this conversation was headed.
“Her lipgloss.” He tilted his head. “It’s Fenty.”
Ganke couldn’t remember when Miles became a makeup enthusiast, but he knew he was a Y/n expert. “And how do you know that?” he asked in disbelief. Their lunch periods had turned into a sort of Y/n watching session since your mysterious separation. He was over it and tired of watching his friend not-so-subtly stare at his not-ex-girlfriend. It was sad and getting a little creepy.
“It’s her favorite brand, but the shade’s darker. She’s never worn it before.” Miles’ food was left untouched, too preoccupied with the sight of you. You must’ve been doing this on purpose, he thought. Sitting directly in his eye line with your annoying ass group of friends. And Drew Harris, Brooklyn Vision’s resident dickhead jock, sat a little too close to you.
Ganke shrugged, turning back to his game. “I don’t know, man. It looks like the one she always wears.”
Miles tore his gaze away to face Ganke. His eyes hardened to an icy glare. “Why do you know what color she usually wears?”
“Chill, dude,” he rolled his eyes. “This break up is actually making you go insane.”
“We didn’t break up,” he snapped, but who was he fooling? Ganke was spot on. Miles was increasingly on edge, waiting. He’d texted and called multiple times since last weekend when finally spoke to you for the first time in weeks. But you didn’t respond or pick up. At this rate you were going to block him…again. Just when he thought everything was piecing itself back together, you slipped away out of his reach.
Ganke stood up with his trash. He had better things to do than watch his best friend run himself to the ground over a girl who obviously wanted nothing to do with him. “Broken up or taking a break, either way you’re miserable. You need to figure your shit out or move on before you burn a hole in the side of her head.”
Miles waved him off, not showing his words struck a chord. Moving on wasn’t an option. You were on his mind twenty four hours a day, seven days a week without fail. The thought of you waiting for him safe and sound kept him alive while he committed every crime in the book. Everything he did was for you, to keep you protected in this twisted city. Nothing was going to ruin his forever, not even you.
“Why not Drew?” Ellie suddenly asked while they walked the halls away from the cafeteria. You could tell she was enjoying having you back with their friends. “He’s all over you. You guys would be perfect,” she gushed, practically skipping across the tile.
You gave her a stern look, “Ellie.” You hated to burst her bubble, but she was too eager for you to be single. “I’m not interested in Drew Harris.”
“Okay, picky,” she hummed in thought for a moment. “Erik Falls? He’s on the basketball team and I heard he thinks you’re gorgeous,” she tried again. You stopped at Ellie’s locker. You weren’t going to ask where she heard such a rumor or why it seemed she had a mental list of the single male population.
You shook your head. A new relationship was the last thing on your mind. Miles was it for you, the one who made your heart sing, the man who made you believe you could be loved like in the stories. No one could compare, especially not a couple of immature jocks who would eventually become mere blimps in the timeline of your life. If only there wasn't a plot twist. “Despite what you think, I am more than happy being single. A new man is not on my list of priorities.”
“If you say so. You’ve just been so down since…” Ellie’s wide eyes briefly glanced over your shoulder. “I thought you and Miles weren’t together anymore?” her voice lowered to a sharp whisper.
Your response stalled, caught off guard by the question. Did Ellie know you and Miles had spoken? You didn’t want to imagine what kind of hell would be unleashed if she found out. “Of course not,” you forced a laugh. “Why?”
“Don’t look, but he’s at your locker!” she scowled, tossing her books back into her locker. “Don’t worry, girl. I got this.” Ellie pulled the earrings from her lobes along with her stack of bracelets, mumbling something about the “little creep.” She never hid her distaste for Miles, the two bumping heads more than once the duration of your relationship.
Against your better judgment, you looked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. Miles Morales leaned against your locker like he owned it. With his shirt untucked and tie loosened, he never failed to make the butterflies in your stomach flutter.
You stopped her before she stalked off in a fury. “Hold on, let me talk to him. I’m sure it’s nothing.” You didn’t even sound convincing to yourself.
Ellie drummed her fingers, lips pursed as she looked between you and the boy over your shoulder, skepticism written all over her face. “Fine, go ahead, Y/n. But I swear if he tries anything, I’m coming for his ass,” she pointed, making sure to shoot him a steely glower.
“I’ll be alright,” you assured her, already walking away.
You finally approached Miles, rolling your eyes at the enigmatic smirk on his lips. “You ignoring me, ma?” He asked, his gaze never leaving your face as you fiddled with the combination on your locker. “I thought we was good.”
“I wasn’t ignoring you, Miles. I just…” you struggled to explain without sounding like you were in fact avoiding him. Did he really think cornering you in an alley would fix everything? “I still needed a bit of space.”
He was clearly unsatisfied, but held his tongue. Instead he nodded his head. “Let’s take a walk, princesa.”
“I can’t,” you stuttered out, unable to trust yourself around Miles. Ignoring his messages took everything in you, so used to spending hours of your day spamming him with the most trivial things when you weren’t together.
“Yes you can. You have a free period.” Of course he had your schedule memorized. Nothing could get past Miles. He entwined your fingers in his, enveloping you with the rough calluses of his palms and dragging you through the halls without care for the curious stares directed your way.
The usual commotion of the city hit your ears as Miles swung open the rooftop door. Fond memories of your favorite meet up spot came flooding back, the late nights Miles would help you study for a Spanish test or when he simply wanted to sit in silence and bask in your presence. You’d fallen in love here over and over again, the stars and city skyline your only witness.
Miles had yet to release you from his hold, savoring your touch after being starved for so long.
He wasn’t going to let you go, not when you were finally where you belonged. “We need to talk.”
“We’re talking now, aren’t we?” No one wanted to hear those dreaded four words.
Your attempt at humor was not appreciated. His grip squeezed your hands in a gentle, but firm warning. “I’m done playin’ your little games, mami. This back and forth shit ain’t gon’ work. I need you to be straight with me.”
The impending weight of the conversation began to settle on your shoulders. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Miles. That I’m totally fine with you being the Prowler and everything can go back to normal?” You avoided his gaze, choosing the cerulean sky knowing his gaze could pull whatever he wanted from you if you dared to stare too long. “You lied to me for the better part of our relationship. Where you go, what you’re doing, who you are and if you’re okay, like really okay. I can’t trust you!”
Too much had been broken for you to go back. And you tried! Lord knows you fucking tried. You hid your tears when Miles missed a date, coming up with some lame excuse. Or the days he’d return and couldn’t bear to look you in the eye. Your mind turned to the worst. Doubt festered where trust should have been. But you held on just as fast as Miles held onto you now.
Now you know the reality and it scared you more than any possibility you came up with.
Miles listened to the cracks in your pretty voice, seeing the damage he caused. He never hated himself more. Ripping out throats and cracking skulls he could stand, but the sight of those crystal tears nearly broke him. “Mi corazón...” A large pad tenderly wiped a droplet from the smoothness of your cheeks. “Lo siento.”
“Say what you have to say, Morales. You can’t keep wasting my time.” You forced yourselves apart to furiously rid the traitorous tears. He didn’t deserve them.
“‘A waste of time?’” he repeated incredulously. Miles grabbed your left wrist, tugging down the sleeves of your navy blazer to reveal the golden bracelet you wore and its various charms. The cursive “M” dangled in your face, mocking you and your devotion to him. “Is that what this is?” He fished the delicate chain from beneath his own uniform where he wore your name closest to his heart. “Are you done with me? Was all this pointless to you, Y/n?” he nearly shouted, doing his best to keep what little composure he had left.
The answer had never been more simple. “No, of course not,” you said. “I don’t regret loving you. I just can’t keep loving half of you when you already have all of me.”
Shock filled the silence between you. “You love me?”
“Yes, dumbass!” You pushed against his chest. He didn’t budge, too stunned to breathe properly. “I know you won’t say it back but I don’t care. You should already know.”
Miles cradled your head and leaned down, your noses touching, sharing the same air. “Say it again,” he ghosted your lips.
Your knees weakened, his heat creating a haze of solely him in your mind. You studied the gentle contours of his face, the fullness of his lips, the healed scar on the edge of his right brow, someone only as close as you could see. An inch was all you needed to think, but you were snatched back. “Miles,” you gasped in surprise, steadying yourself in his arms. Through layers of fabric, you felt the rapid rhythm of Miles' heart and you were positive he could feel yours.
“Dilo de nuevo,” he commanded, pressing your body against his in a vice and yet you were still too far. “Por favor, para mi.”
“I love you,” you began, but Miles cut you off as he eradicated the damned space between you. Your mouth parted, the taste of spice and uniquely him familiar, like loving Miles was a reflex you’d always succumb to.
You relented to your need to breathe, still cradling Miles’ face in your hands. “Te amo también, mi corazón.” You never thought he would return the words and you’ve never been happier to be wrong. “Let me do it right this time. Be mine again. No more secrets, no more lies. Prometo.”
One chance was all Miles needed to gain access to your heart. You should have kept his number blocked, called the police like you threatened to do, but his determination was endless. He wanted you and here you were in his embrace saying, “I’ll always be yours, Miles.” You reached on your toes to steal another kiss, consuming as much of him as you desired. The pink of his tongue peeked out as he licked the sticky glitter from his lips. You moved to wipe the remaining gloss about to apologize before he took your mouth again, his teeth teasing the delicate skin.
“It is new.”
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writingoddess1125 · 4 months
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I just know Mihawk and Alucare would spoil the baby. I can see her being the princess of the family
Oh absolutely! Spoiled Rotten.
Princess of the House
As Mihawk is based off Dracula I've made him be Romanian 🇷🇴 and included more of the culture
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• Dracule Mihaela
• The Jewel of the Dracule Family
• From the moment she was born, she had the whole family wrapped around her tiny finger.
• She couldn't even fuss without someone to come and wait on her hand and foot.
• It didn't help that she was also a cheerful and pretty baby, A perfect mixture of you and Mihawk.
• You getting so much time to rest and recover after giving birth to her since there where three people who took care of her in your wake.
• Mihawk only allowing you to be woken up or disturbed for feedings. Everything else was handled-
• It took you throwing a fit to be given your own baby back!
• "Damn it Mihawk! She came out of me- Let me hold my damn child!" You argued with your husband, the man glumly handing her over to you to bond with.
• Dark Hair but with your hair texture, your eye shape but with his color, even her complexion a perfect inbetween of you and Mihawk's.
• Perfect in Mihawk's eyes.
• Mihawk also having the habit of holding Mihaela everywhere he went.
• After you recovered and Mihaela started to grow she was spoiled with gifts.
• Stuffed toys from Perona, Jewlery and expensive fabrics from Mihawk and homemade toys from Alucare.
• Mihaela having more gifts them she knew what to do with-
• That paired with each major milestone in her life was met with a celebration of gifts.
• Holding head up? Silver Rattle
• Smiling? Gold Rings for each finger
• Rolling over? Silk onsies
• And so much more!
• You walking into his office, tired and already a bit irritated from waking up and finding your baby missing from what was suppose to be her naptime- Knowing that she was wide awake in Mihawk's arms while he went over paperwork.
• When Mihaela wasn't in Mihawks arms- Then she was with Alucare or Perona's.
• You having to scold both Dracule men (and Perona) for holding her too much-
• Knowing damn well both men would spoil her rotten-
• That was evident When her first birthday came around-
The castle was buzzing, having outsiders welcome for the first time in- Well forever.
"Happy First Birthday My Jewel" Mihawk said happily, watching you walk into the room with Mihaela in your arms. Her dresses in a beautiful white dress Mihaek had made for her, she smiled brightly when she saw him. Waving her arms around happily.
Mihawk pulling our a box from his pocket, a pre-present separate from the mountain of gifts waiting for her. Pulling a dark blue diamond bracelet and slipping it on her little chubby wrist as he kissed her forehead making her laugh.
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"This looks expensive Mihawk-" You muttered, raising a brow at the studded bracelet as Mihaela brought it to her mouth immediately making Mihawk smile.
"That's cause it is"
After that the party started, different games and gifts being brought out. Several other pirates who had young children of their own attending as well so it was a play date for Mihaela to meet and be around others her age. As well as lavish gifts for the toddler being gifted from other powerful pirates-
Crocodile sending a solid gold rocking horse that was shaped like a Giraffe.
Shanks sending a Silver Pacifier.
Even Buggy sending a velvet lined diamond studded box filled with different toys and baby clothes.
With plenty more which made your pockets burn with how much all this could have cost.
Finally it was cake time, a soft cake being brought out for Mihaela to have for herself as a separate one was for the party.
Happy birthday was sung of course as the cake was set infronf of Mihaela after it was done- Which she Dove her face into immediately much to everyone's amusement.
Mihawk sitting next to her with a slice of normal cake for himself as he let his daughter 'speak' with him.
"Shes been babbling all day to you" You mused, watching her smudge cake all over as she babbled at Mihawk excitedly.
"Trying to share with Tată? (Dada)" Mihawk mused as he smiled down at her-
"Tată!" She said cheerfully, holding her arms out to Mihawk with some of the frosting on her hands. The man freezing in place, staring at Miha as he continued to repeat herself as he scooped her up fast, her now grabbing at his necklace to bring into her mouth.
"Her first words!" You cheer excitedly- Clapping your hands in pride as you smile brightly as your little girl. Kissing her chubby cheeks as she giggled loudly and excitedly at the attention she was getting.
"No fair-" Alucare muttered, having been trying to get her to have her first words be his name for months.
"Tată Tată!" She continued as she giggled out.
Mihawk still silent as he stared at her with wide eyes, you looking to him surprised by his lack of reaction. That was till he tightened his hold on her and began to walk outside with her-
"Where is he going?-" Alucare started, a bit miffed by his father's reaction but you held a hand up to your son with a gentle look.
You saw it- For a brief moment as Mihawk turned away from you all to carried Mihaela outside with him..
Tears rolling down his cheek.
He got her a full blown ship afterwards-
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captainfern · 5 months
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141Rugby!au [18+]
• Part Three - Good Girl •
Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader
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You've recently started a new job as a physiotherapist for an English Rugby Union team. It's your job to ensure that all the players are in top shape for upcoming games against other strong teams. This job is absolutely perfect for you: good pay, good hours, a fun and exciting atmosphere to be apart of. But there's just one thing you can't seem to understand– the same four players seem to need more attention than the rest.
chapter summary - after hearing the kind of treatment you're giving his teammates, the number 8 thinks it's only fair for him to receive the same treatment too lol.
rating - 18+
wordcount - 7.5k
chapter warnings - fem!reader, slow-ish burn [but not really cause ik you're here for the porn], oral fixation type beat, oral [m!receiving], dry (wet?) humping, thigh-riding, discussion of m!masturbation, degradation, light dumbification, praise, dacryphilia?? idk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, discussion of foursome/sharing, simon's a little possessive tho, and simon's obsessed with you tbh, and he talks about his dick a lot lol, strong language
disclaimer - physiotherapist, or staff x player sexual relations are not allowed in the real world. but please keep in mind this is fanfiction. it's fake. if you have an issue with inappropriate relations with faculty, blurred morals [etc], then please do not read. additionally, reader be fucking in this series. all four. separately, and at once. it's not cheating, i promise. it's consensual sharing <3
Ghost is a number 8, or eighthman – supports the back line, carries the ball well and tackles strongly. this position tends to be the perfect mix of strong and agile.
see my rugby union introductory for definitions of rugby words
<- part two | part four ->
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"How was dinner?" Simon asked that evening, entering his and Johnny's shared flat, kicking off his shoes near the door.
It was late, nearing midnight, when Simon returned home. He, Price and Gaz had trained for several hours, and then went out to dinner. Simon returned home expecting for Johnny to be occupied, and so he entered tentatively, but he found the Scot sitting on the couch watching some shitty reality TV programme.
"It was nice," Johnny said flippantly. "Yeah... real nice."
Simon raised his eyebrows, coming to perch himself on the couch– the couch that, unbeknownst to him, you had made a mess on just a few hours prior. Simon looked over at Johnny, who ignored the blond and continued watching TV. Slightly annoyed, Simon snatched the remote and shut the TV off, much to Johnny's dismay.
"Hey!" Johnny frowned.
"Tell me about your date." Simon said, and Johnny sat up, leaning back against the plush armchair.
"It wasn't a date," Johnny rolled his eyes. "And I told you, it was nice. She's really nice company, you know."
Simon hummed, intrigued. "I bet..." Then, he waited for Johnny to continue, but he didn't. Simon cocked his head to the side, and Johnny mimicked the movement, a grin on his face. Simon rolled his eyes. "You already know what I'm about to say."
Johnny laughed. "No, we didn't fuck."
"How come?"
Johnny shrugged. "Just the way it went. Dinner was nice, and we talked for fuckin' hours. I could listen to the lass talk forever," he smiled, then continued. "By the time we stopped talking, it was too late, and she had to head home."
Simon narrowed his eyes at his friend, leaning back on the couch and stretching his arm atop the top of the backrest. He drummed his fingers against the fabric. "S'that all you did? Talk and ate?"
Johnny smiled. Simon knew that fucking smile.
Simon raised his eyebrows, imploring Johnny to tell him everything. Johnny cocked his head to the side again, wanting Simon to ask about it.
"Fuck sake," Simon shook his head. "Fine... what did you do?"
"'M glad you asked," Johnny split into a cheeky grin. "Since you really want to know–"
"Really is a bit of an exaggeration–"
"She played with herself while I watched. Right there on that fuckin' couch, Simon." Johnny nodded at the couch, and Simon instinctively looked down at the fabric. Johnny smiled. "Right where you're sitting, actually."
Simon made no effort to move. He looked back up at his friend. "You told her how to touch herself, Johnny?"
"Mhm," Johnny said proudly. "While I fucked my fist, too. Came so fuckin' hard I almost burnt my fuckin' roast."
Simon laughed through his nose. "I don't think the force of your orgasm is what made you almost burn your roast. It more likely had something to do with your distraction."
"It was a bloody good distraction, Ghost," Johnny said around a smile. "You... you need to try her, sometime."
Simon felt his eyebrows pinch together in a subtle frown. "Don't talk about her like that. She's not a toy."
Johnny looked offended. "No, no, didn't mean it like that. I just mean, you know, if you wanted too, she'd... she'd probably let you."
"Let me what?"
"Let you..." Johnny raised his eyebrows. "Let you fuck her."
"Wow, real mature, Johnny," Simon quipped, leaning back into the sofa, adjusting his sitting position with a shift of his hips. "What makes you think I want her like that?"
Johnny rolled his eyes. "I'm not fuckin' blind, Ghost. You fancy her, as do half the fuckin' team, eh? And besides, who wouldn't like her like that. She's perfect."
"Perfect?" Simon mumbled out, looking around the living room.
If he put his head at a certain angle, in a certain direction, he could smell you– the sweetness of your perfume, the fragrance of your shampoo. It managed to linger in the air over top of the smell of roast, and the vague tang of citrus cleaning products.
In the armchair, Johnny shrugged again, eyes wandering. "Well, you know, I could put in a good word for you if you wanted me to."
Simon shot daggers at Johnny, then got to his feet, stretching out his back. His knuckles cracked when he flexed his fingers, a throbbing pain appearing at the base of his fingers. Johnny noticed the way Simon's face contorted into a pained grimace.
"Oh, so the appointment's real?"
"What?" Simon frowned.
"You're really going to see her 'cause you're hurt? I thought you'd made it up." Johnny said, and Simon huffed, annoyed, tossing his Scottish friend an unimpressed look.
"Yes, I'm hurt, you fuckwit," Simon muttered, holding his right hand to his chest. Then, defiantly, he turned back to his friend. "You know what?"
"What?" Johnny was grinning now.
Simon wished he could wipe that cheeky grin off of his friend's face. But he knew he couldn't. Not when his next words made the smile grow tenfold.
"I am going to try her an' see how perfect she really is."
•º•º•
Simon didn't want to come onto you to strong– pun definitely not intended. Not yet, anyway.
He didn't want to crowd you, or stress you out. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable, or make you feel as though he was taking advantage of you. He didn't want that. He admitted telling Johnny he wanted to try you was a fucking prick thing to say, but he didn't know how else to phrase it. Because, well, it was true. He did want to try you. Just like Johnny and Gaz did. The lucky bastards.
His interest piqued when he got a good look at you on the sidelines of one of their first matches. Of course, he saw you on your first day, and around the grounds several days after that, but he really got a good look at you when you were taping up Gaz's wrist all those weeks ago.
Simon was benched, and sitting at the very opposite end to you. He did find himself glancing over in your direction every so often, just to see what the fuss was about. Many of the lads had taken interest in you, but you seemed oblivious– or possibly just immune– to their charm. But, Simon did notice that Gaz's charm seemed to be working.
So Simon took note.
He noted the way Gaz was genuinely nice to you, polite and well-mannered. He didn't flirt with you heavily, not like how the other players described their flirting tactics. Gaz was feather-light with his advances, and he never forced you close to him. He simply allowed you to gravitate towards him.
And so that's how Simon knew he wanted to play it. He had always been a strategist– being a number 8, that line of thinking was critical. He read the play well, picked up on body-language and non-verbal cues– that was his job, basically. So he took note on how Gaz approached you, how he spoke to you, how he spoke about you to the others. The winger was polite, respectful and, above all, successful.
He had told Simon, Johnny and Price all about his little encounter with the team's physio while at the gym a couple of weeks before Johnny decided to give it a go. He explained how he did it, why he wanted to do it– and then proceeded to gush about how much he enjoyed it, how much he enjoyed you.
You, you, you.
That's what triggered Simon's interest in you.
Of course, like he said before, he picked up on a few things while you taped Gaz's wrist that day. You were so gentle with him, smiling and joking, and you did your job so well.
But when Gaz couldn't shut his mouth at the gym that night, and now how Johnny wouldn't stop fucking smiling about you– god, Simon really, really wanted you now.
And usually, when Simon wants something, he get's it. He got the number 8 position in the team. He got player of the year last year. He'll get the team's physiotherapist, too. If Johnny could do it, surely it wouldn't be too hard.
But Simon purposely made it harder for himself to ensure that everything seemed easier on you.
The first appointment he had with you, where you took his hand so gently into yours, running your fingers over his knuckles, his palm, his wrist, he willed himself not to get hard. Willed himself not to pop a fucking boner in his boxers at your touch, at the way your pretty eyes stared up at him, and the way you had that welcoming, warm smile.
That appointment, he made sure he didn't flirt with you. Not one little bit. He kept conversation casual, platonic. The small talk was polite and, dare he say it, mundane. It was his own fault, but he had to stick with it. He asked you about your day, about future appointments. He asked you about why you took the job, and how you were liking it so far. He didn't push it.
But, after booking the next appointment, he headed for the door, looking over his shoulder to give you the simplest of smiles. He then uttered, "Have a nice day, love."
Success. He watched you fidget on the spot at his words. Then he left.
He'd jerk off to your expression in the shower when he got home. But first, he needed to go to the fucking gym.
The next appointment, about a week after the first, Simon knew it was time to start wiggling his way into your mind. Get you thinking about him. He knew you were still thinking about Soap and Gaz– and probably still paying them visits, too– so Simon knew that putting thoughts of him into your head wouldn't be too hard.
So he planted little seeds. Polite, of course, without pressing into any boundary that he knew would make uncomfortable.
But he placed lingering touches– brushing his fingers against yours when you handed him something, or craning his head just a bit closer to yours when he looked over your shoulder as you showed him something on your computer. He wore more cologne so it'd linger in your office. He said hello to you in the hallway before anyone else could. He made sure to do his warm-up stretches in the middle of the playing field where he knew you'd have a good view from your office.
Strategic. Like all number 8's should be.
And he wasn't the best number 8 in the entire UK for fucking nothing.
He noticed it start to work that very same week. The following days after his second appointment, leading up to his third. Days he noticed your eyes light up when he waved to you in the hall; days you smiled from your window while you watched him warm-up; days where you got flustered when he winked at you while you were talking to Johnny.
Johnny noticed it too.
That happened just a few hours before his third appointment– an appointment he scheduled a bit earlier in the week than usual, only a few days after his second. He was so close.
Johnny teased him. "You're on the fuckin' prowl, Ghost."
"Don't say it like that, Johnny, what the fuck," Simon growled. The pair were walking from their flat towards their home stadium. Simon shook his head. "She's a human being."
"She sure is," Johnny said wistfully, as though remembering something he was fond of. Simon guessed he was, something fond of you, so he elbowed the Scot in the ribs as they crossed the road. Johnny laughed. "Alright, that's enough, I get it."
Simon grumbled under his breath as the two friends made their way towards the stadium along the roadside. As cars drove past, he heard the voice of a kid yell, "Ghost! Soap!" which made Simon smile.
After a moment of walking in silence, Johnny cleared his throat. Simon looked at him in annoyance.
Johnny pouted at Simon's expression. "What're you mad for? I haven't said anything yet!"
"You don't need to," Simon said. "I know whatever you're about to say is gonna be stupid."
"Is not."
"Is too."
Johnny grumbled. "You're no fun."
Simon looked at Johnny, then over to the looming stadium, then back to Johnny again. He sighed, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie as he walked.
"Fine," he said. "What is it?"
Johnny smiled. "Have you got a plan?"
"A plan...?"
"Yeah to, you know, woo the lass."
"Woo the lass," Simon echoed with a mouthful of disinterest. "You're a fuckwit."
"Hey, I'm just asking!" Johnny held up his hands in mock-surrender. When he put them back down, he wiggled his eyebrows at Simon. "...So?"
Simon rolled his eyes.
Johnny smiled. "I'll take that as a yes."
Simon sighed through his nose. Johnny was right, but he didn't want to admit that. Simon'd rather hurt his other hand than admit it, because the look on Johnny's face already– and Simon hadn't even admitted anything– was enough. Enough for Simon to shoulder Johnny and force him off the pavement.
Johnny laughed as he toppled over into a row of hedges. He yelled out at Simon as the blond kept walking. "Don't go throwin' me 'round, Simon! Otherwise I'll end back up in doc's office!"
Simon clenched his jaw. Don't bite back.
•º•º•
"How does that feel?" You asked, two hands holding one of Simon's large ones.
Your soft fingers traced over his lower knuckles, pressing gently on the space of finger between those knuckles, and the row in the middle of the fingers. You rubbed circles on each finger for a couple of seconds, and Simon watched you, his gaze unwavering.
You felt very warm.
"That's good," Simon said quietly when you got to his pinky-finger, pressing at the bones and joints and looking up to his face for any flicker of pain. He looked at you as you searched his face. He allowed himself a small smile. "It's good, doc. I promise."
You smiled back up at him and dropped his hand. He frowned.
You didn't notice. "Good, that's good. Alright, so I suppose this is our last appointment..." you meandered over to your computer, sliding into the chair and beginning to type at lightening speed. Simon watched your fingers fly over the keyboard.
"Our... last one?" Simon voiced, tone even and not at all betraying the disappointment he felt inside.
"Yep, our last one," you said. You finished up on your computer and then looked over at him with a beaming smile. "You're all good to go."
Simon slid off of the medical table, not having to drop far. He towered over you, which he knew you liked– based on the way you chewed subtly on your bottom lip when he stood over you.
So, phase one of his plan that, if Soap was somehow listening, definitely did not exist– use his height to his advantage.
You got up from behind your desk to walk him to the door, and Simon took the opportunity to walk directly next to you until you both reached the door. When you opened the door, Simon stepped into the frame and turned around so he could face you, leaning his shoulder against the framing and crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest. He watched the way your eyes followed the movement. You swallowed nervously.
"Thanks for that, doc," he said lowly. "I appreciate it."
"O-oh, yeah, it's no big deal," you stuttered. "Just... just doing my job, you know?"
Your eyes didn't meet his. Not when he was executing phase two– holding eye contact. A soft kind of eye contact, the same Gaz always used. Simon kept a slight crinkle in the corners of his eyes, his lids lowering a fraction as his eyes scanned your face, darting from your eyes to your lips in perfectly timed intervals.
Your throat was drying. You cleared it with a low cough. "Right, well... did you need anything?"
Phase three, the riskier part of the plan–
"You like the way I look at you, doc?" Simon whispered. He felt nerves twisting in his own stomach as he waited an eternity (less than a second) for your response. He looked down at you softly.
You cleared your throat again. "I... I mean, I don't– I don't mind if, you mean– if you meant it like that–"
Phase four, even fucking riskier–
"Answer my question, doc," Simon whispered. "An' use your words, hm? You like the way I look at you? You like the way I'm talking to you?"
And, if his plan worked, if it somehow worked, then the outcome would be–
"...yes." A whisper from your pretty lips.
Perfect. Mission-fucking-successful.
"Yeah?" Simon was still leaning against the doorframe. "How do I make you feel?"
"...warm," you confessed quietly, not meeting his eyes. "You... fucking hell, you give me butterflies."
"Butterflies?" Simon grinned. "Do I? How else do I make you feel?"
Simon walked forward, and you walked backwards. Enough so that he quietly shut the door and then spun the lock. It clicked. Locked.
You swallowed. "I– you–"
"Look at me when you're talking to me, doc."
You looked up at him, his hazy blue eyes and the mosaic of scars running across his face.
"How do I make you feel when I look at you like this?" He asked, moving forward. You were backing yourself towards your desk. He cocked his head at you. "How do you feel when you look at me?"
"Good," you breathed. "Feel's good... I like the way you look at me and... and I like looking at you."
"Yeah? You do, love?" Simon goaded, and your backside hit your desk. "D'you want to know how I feel?"
You nodded quickly. Simon chuckled.
"O'course you do..." He stepped into your space, the lower part of his chest up against the top of yours. He looked down at you, his arms coming to rest on your hips. "Is this okay?"
You nodded. "Yes..."
Simon leaned down until his nose brushed against yours. You closed your eyes in anticipation, your lips just a hair-length apart. You could feel his breath fanning across your face, and your stomach flipped at his close proximity.
"I love the way you touch me," he whispered, his words tickling your lips. "Love the way you look at me, too. Y'look at me like I'm the prettiest thing on earth, don't you? Love the way you look at me with them pretty eyes, like you want me to fuck you, hm?"
Your mouth dropped open in a gasp, and Simon took the opportunity to press his mouth to yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. One of the hands he had on your hips moved upwards to cup the back of your head, moving you closer to him as his lower body pushed yours against the wooden desk.
"That's what you want?" He asked, breaking the kiss and shifting his pelvis against yours. You could feel the hard, large imprint of his cock against your front, and it made you whimper, squirming in his hold. He hummed, closing his eyes as you ground yourself against the growing bulge in his trousers. "Yeah? You want me to fuck you? You want me to fill your tight cunt with my big fuckin' cock, hm?"
You moaned, and Simon swallowed it– kissing you roughly by pulling you into him using the hand he had on the back of your head. His tongue licked against yours, running over the ridges of your teeth, and he groaned. He groaned at the taste of you, the warmth and the wetness of your mouth. His cock twitched in his boxers.
He pulled out of the kiss, placing one quick peck on your lips before pulling his face away. "Got a pretty damn mouth on you, doc."
The hand on the back of your head shifted to the side of your face, and you were blinking back surprise when his thumb brushed over your lips. You opened your mouth when he flicked his thumb against your bottom lip, and he grumbled in his chest– a pleased purr, almost– when he slipped his thumb into your mouth. You wrapped your tongue around the digit, retaining eye-contact as you sucked his thumb further into your mouth, the rest of his hand holding firmly onto the base of your jaw.
Simon pressed his thumb down onto your tongue when you took the digit further back into your mouth. You gagged, but he kept his thumb there. You gagged again, eyes watering, and Simon slowly dragged his thumb back to the front of your mouth, flicking it against the tip of your tongue.
"You wanna suck my cock, love?" Simon asked in a whisper, swiping the pad of his thumb along your teeth, feeling the ridges of your molars and the points of your lower canines.
You whined around his thumb, still sucking gently, nodding as his eyes swept over your face.
"'Atta girl," Simon praised, pulling his thumb from your mouth and then gripping your jaw, smearing your saliva across your cheek. "How about you get down on them knees, doc?"
He spun you both around so that he was now leaning his backside against the desk. He then let go of your head and allowed you to lower yourself to the ground in front of him, your hands resting on the thick of his strong thighs.
He gestured to his fly and button, and you got the hint. Saliva already pooling in your mouth, you popped the button of his jeans and then unzipped the fly, lowering them enough to get a good look at the imprint of his cock in his boxers. There was a small wet patch on the front, and it made your pussy flutter around nothing.
Acting on your own accord, you leaned forward and pressed kisses along the bulge, tongue moving against the cotton, laving over the patch of pre-cum that stained the material. Simon's hand shot down to hold the crown of your head as you kissed the hard imprint of his cock, whimpering in the back of your throat at the warmth against your lips and tongue.
His hips bucked, the stain of pre-cum growing bigger as his cock leaked within the confines of his boxers, twitching as the warm wetness of your mouth pressed open-mouthed kisses over it.
"Fuck, yeah, that's it, love," Simon breathed. "Kiss my cock– use that pretty mouth."
You whined against him, nose sliding over the waistband of his boxers. Your fingers trailed up his thighs until they reached the waistband, and you leaned your head back so you could pull his boxers down far enough for his cock to fall out.
Simon's cock was heavy, curving forward under the weight of his arousal, his balls heavy too, waiting– just waiting– to bust a load all over your pretty face, or in that warm mouth. His tip was flushed red, all the blood flow having travelled down while you kissed him, leaking droplets of pre-cum. And then your favourite part– the dark blond hair of his happy-trail leading to the patch near the base of his cock.
You whined again, bringing a hand to your face and spitting in it, before wrapping your fingers around the girth of his cock. Simon groaned, fingers flexing around the top of your head, holding you still as you began to work your hand up and down.
"Dirty fuckin' girl, that's it," he hissed, your eyes on him as you jerked him off. Your lips were just a whisper away from his leaking tip, and with each laboured breath you panted out, his cock twitched. He looked down at you with a lust-drunk gaze. "Are you going to keep playing with my cock, or are you going to put it in your mouth?"
You answered him by opening your mouth and letting your tongue drop out slightly. He hummed– a deep grumble from his chest– pleased with you, before bringing his free hand down to grab the base of his cock. You dropped your hand away from him, instead resting it against the solid warmth of his thigh.
Simon fisted his cock in front of your face, one hand keeping your head in place. He angled his hips so he could tap the flushed tip against your tongue, smearing pre-cum along the flat of the smooth muscle. A bead of saliva pearled at the tip of your tongue, and he smacked the tip of his cock against it, forcing your saliva to drip out of your mouth and down your chin. You frowned at him, and he smiled, whispering, "so messy."
Your jaw was just beginning to ache when he finally dropped more of his cock against your tongue, the solid weight of it wiping the frown from your face. You continued to look up at the rugby player before you as his cock inched further into your mouth– slowly enough that you could feel the velveteen ridges and veins across the surface of your pre-cum tainted tongue. You whimpered softly as Simon held your head firmer, feeding his cock into your mouth, forcing your tongue to draw back inside and your lips to seal around him.
"Take it..." Simon whispered, his tone soft. The fat head of his cock nudged the back of your throat after a moment, and you immediately gagged around him, tears springing to your eyes. Simon tutted, shifting his hips back and pulling his cock away from your uvula. His fingers massaged the top of your head. "What's 'a matter, pretty girl? S'my cock too big?"
You frowned at him again, your hands tightening against his thighs. Without his instruction, you pushed forward and took more of him into your mouth, the leaking tip nudging near the back of your throat. You withheld a gag, tears blurring your vision as you took most of him, your nose parallel to his pelvis. He was still holding his cock, so your lips pressed flush against his knuckles. You worked your tongue around him, smoothing warmly around the girth of his cock, and he tossed his head back and groaned, hips twitching.
"Yeah, that's'a fuckin' girl, baby–" he growled, head flopping forward to watch you once more. "Yeah, take my fuckin' cock. Take it all in this pretty mouth."
He removed his hand from his cock, instead gripping the edge of your desk for leverage. His other hand remained on your head, gently beginning to guide you. You worked with him– taking him as far back in your throat as you could, coating his cock in saliva, running your tongue along the underside of him until he eased back into your mouth a bit– then, you circled the tip, sucking gently, hollowing your cheeks, before he was pushing further in again. You took one hand, still sticky with your saliva, and pumped the base of his cock– all of which you couldn't fit in your mouth.
He grumbled out grunts and groans, his eyes on you the entire time. You did your best to maintain eye-contact as well, but tears were still fresh in your waterline, and the force of his thick cock sliding down your throat urged your eyelids shut.
A tear slipped from each eye, dropping down your cheeks. As he panted, focused on the warmth of your mouth around his desperately hard cock, Simon moved both of his hands to your face. He cupped both of your cheeks, running his thumbs along your cheekbones and catching the tears, smearing them across your soft skin. You blinked up at him, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he looked down at you. He continued to cup your face, both large hands heavy on your cheeks, as he gently guided your mouth along his cock.
"There you go, that's my girl..." He muttered, pulling your head right down to the base of his cock, your throat constricting around him as you resisted the urge to gag. You whimpered around him, the heady tip of his cock nudging the back of your throat, messing with your oxygen intake. The vibrations from your whimpering made Simon groan above you. "God, love, keep doing that. Jus' like that, yeah... fuck– keep using that pretty mouth."
He continued to look at you– in such a way your stomach was doing flips, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You desperately blinked the moisture from your vision so you could see more of his handsome face, and the way he occasionally drew his lower lip between his teeth, and the way his dark brows pinched together in pleasure.
He still had both hands on your face, guiding you, petting you, stroking your cheeks and thumbing your cheekbones. His eyes never left your face as you sucked his cock. You were the prettiest damn thing he'd ever seen.
Simon groaned at his own thoughts, hips twitching, more pre-cum dribbling out of his slit and down your throat. You swallowed around him, and he groaned again.
"Fuck– fuck– m'close, love, m'so fuckin' close–" Simon whispered, gritting his teeth as he felt his balls begin to tighten, along with the muscles in his lower abdomen. He held your head just a bit tighter. "M'gonna paint your face, doc."
Romantic, you thought, and you couldn't help but let slip a small giggle around his cock. Simon groaned, his hips jerking faster as he held your head in place, essentially fucking your throat. He was still so gentle though, despite the urgency of his thrusts into the warm heat of your mouth. You let him move you along the length of his cock, saliva dripping down your chin, before he was pulling you all the way off of his cock, a string of saliva connecting the tip and your lips.
"Tongue." He said breathlessly.
You stuck your tongue out as he fisted his cock quickly, wet sounds eliciting through your office. He groaned, a hiss of your name, before he was coming across your face. Most of his cum spurted across your tongue and in your mouth, but splatters flecked over you, milky strings along your saliva-slick lower face. Simon groaned the entire time he came, still pumping his cock in a bruised-knuckled fist, dribbles of white dripping from his cock while you curled your tongue back into your mouth and swallowed.
He was breathing hard, stuffing his semi-hard cock back into his boxers and trousers, and reaching down to take you by the upper arms. You let out an involuntary yelp when he effortlessly hauled you to your feet– as though you weighed absolutely fucking nothing– and pulled you with him. Wordlessly, he rounded your desk and sat down in your office chair, yanking you down onto his lap.
"Good girl." He was whispering as he brought his face to yours and kissed you. You hummed a moan against his lips. His tongue coaxed your mouth open, and the warm, wet muscle was smoothing against yours before you could even think.
One of his large hands cupped the side of your face, his thumb smearing a fat droplet of his cum against your cheek, while the other hand held your hip. With that hand, and all while kissing you, Simon guided you to straddle just one of his thick thighs, and slowly began rocking you against it. He tensed the muscle, and immediately felt the warmth of your clothed cunt beneath your trousers.
He broke the kiss to moan against your lips. "Fuckin' hell, doc, you're fuckin' soaked."
You whimpered, almost embarrassed, as Simon gripped your hip harder and ground you against him. He pressed you down heavier against him, revelling in the way he could feel the warm wetness of your core through both yours and his trousers. He kissed you again, rougher this time– a small clink of teeth, and a large amount of cum-tainted spit.
Butterflies in your stomach, you helped his urging movements. You moved your hips back and forth, sliding yourself against the taut muscles of his thigh. A high-pitched noise filtered from the back of your throat as your clit began to throb, your underwear damp against your slit. You tilted your head back, breaking the kiss so that you could mewl quietly into the silence of your office. Simon immediately attached his mouth to your throat, sucking harshly.
He grunted against your throat. "This pussy's all wet from suckin' my cock?" He then angled his head to suck kisses along your jaw, you face still inclined towards the ceiling.
"Yessss–" You whined, moving your hips faster. He let you– smiling against the skin of your jaw– letting the hand he had on your hip keep up with your desperate pace.
The two of you fell into a short, comfortable, lust-filled silence. The sounds of you panting, his grunting against your neck, and the shifting of fabric the only noises in your office. You whimpered as Simon continued sucking and biting kisses along the expanse of your neck and throat, the skin there sticky with his spit. You could still feel his semi-dried cum on your face.
But as you neared your first orgasm, rocking your clothed cunt against his thigh, your noises grew louder. You whimpering turned to stretched-out whines, and your panting increased in volume, coupled with airy moans– sounds that Simon loved and sounds that had his cock throbbing hard in his boxers. But he didn't want to compromise this situation at all.
The hand he had cupping your head moved along your face, two fingers dragging along your cheek and collecting a generous amount of his cum. Then, he simply shoved them past your lips and pressed down on your tongue, cutting you off mid-moan. Your eyes flew open, finding his, as you instinctively began sucking on the digits.
"You're a noisy girl, aren't you?" Simon muttered, eyes mapping every aspect of your face. "A noisy girl, and a messy girl."
You whimpered around his fingers, eyes almost rolling as your orgasm built heavily in your lower stomach. Your thighs quivered alongside his, and he could feel your cunt pulsing against him– all warm and wet and begging for his cock. But not yet. Not fucking yet.
You were so close– your entire body buzzing against him, skin flushed with a layer of sweat, face and neck sticky, lips tender from the force of Simon's kisses. Your orgasm was building, and building, and building still, and you were so close–
"Come for me," Simon ordered in a soft whisper, his two fingers rubbing against your tongue. "Come for me, love."
It was like your body had been waiting for his permission. The band in your lower belly snapped, your orgasm racking through you in forceful waves, your body shaking against him. A loud moan was caught in your throat, his fingers pinning your tongue to the floor of your mouth, forcing you to whimper out to him instead. Your eyes dropped shut, a bead of saliva pushing out from between his fingers and your lips, running down his wrist. He groaned.
But he didn't stop rocking you against him. Even when you tired and your desperate movements slowed, he didn't. He didn't slow. With all the stamina and strength of a good number 8, he kept his hand tight on your hip and continued to grind you against his muscular thigh.
After a moment of realising that he was not stopping, your eyes flew open and found him already looking at you. His eyes had been on where his fingers disappeared into your mouth– and he pushed them in further, until the middle knuckles slid past your lips. You almost choked, moving your tongue around them now that he wasn't pinning them to the bottom of your mouth. His eyes then found yours.
"So pretty..." He muttered. "So pretty when you come. Want you to come again."
You whimpered, frowning. Simon chuckled, a beautiful smile stretching across his face. He leaned in, moving his fingers to one corner of your mouth so that he place a chaste kiss to your lips. When he pulled away, he was still smiling.
"You thought I was done with one?" He asked you, not quite condescending, but enough so to make you pout around his fingers. "No, no, love, we're not stoppin' at one. We're not fuckin' stoppin' until you've drenched my trousers, got it?"
That had your second orgasm creeping up inside you. You nodded wildly, and he pulled his fingers out of your mouth briefly to give you a pat on the side of the face.
"Good girl." He said, and then his fingers were back in your mouth again. This time, he hooked them around your bottom teeth and, with his thumb on your jaw, he pulled your mouth open just a little bit– enough so he could lean in and kiss you deeper than the last time. He licked into your mouth and you squirmed against him, the feeling of his tongue against yours making your hips stutter against his thigh.
He kissed you like that, with his chin resting on his own fingers, until your second orgasm hit you. He pulled away with your spit smeared across his lips as you came, your cunt pulsing against him again. He could almost feel your heartbeat in the warmth of your pussy, making the muscles of his thigh flex again. He continued to rock you through it.
"I think one more will do it," Simon hummed, more to himself than to you. He could feel the heat of your slick soaking through your own trousers, but it was yet to soak through to his. He wanted a wet patch on his fucking leg. "You can do one more, can't you, doc?"
Simon pulled his fingers from your mouth and gripped both of your hips now. He renewed his efforts, dragging you across his thigh, your legs shaking around him as your glazed eyes struggled to stay open. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, brain fuzzy, body warm against his.
You mewled, hoarse and barely above a light whimper. "Simon–"
He groaned. "Fuck yeah, love, want you to say my name like that again. Go on. Say it again while I drag this pretty pussy over my thigh."
You did as you were told, moaning out quietly, your head dropping onto his shoulder. You mewled another "Simon–!" against him as you mouthed at the flushed skin of his neck. You were met with another deep groan, rumbling in his throat.
"Fuck," he grunted. "You– fuck– you have no idea how many times I've fucked my fist to that sound in my head. So many times I've come all over my fuckin' hand thinkin' about this perfect fuckin' pussy."
His accent was thickening. That made you moan.
He ground you harder against him, tensing his muscles tighter. You moaned into his neck, your body shaking.
Simon placed a gentle kiss your damp forehead. "Come on, love, come one more time. Soak my fuckin' thigh. I know you can do it, doc, I can feel how wet you are."
You whimpered. "Simon, please–"
"Look at me."
You did. You picked yourself up and looked at him as he guided you towards your third orgasm– your third orgasm in your fucking trousers only by grinding against his leg. Oh my god–
"When you come..." He began softly, one of his hands moving from your hip to hold your throat carefully. He held your head still, forcing as much eye-contact as he could. "When you come, I want you looking at me with those pretty eyes. Got it, doc?"
You nodded.
He smiled gently and repeated a soft "good girl" for what felt like the hundredth time. But you weren't complaining. It had your stomach twisting, your swollen clit pulsing, and finally your third orgasm washing over you.
Like a good girl, you listened to what he said. You maintained eye-contact as you came, despite the overwhelming urge to shut them. Your body shook against his, your cunt gushing into your underwear. You moaned his name and he kissed you quiet.
He chuckled against your lips– a triumphant smile forming as he felt your arousal dampen the leg of his trousers. He pulled away and lifted your hips lightly, getting a good look at the dark patch on his thigh. He moaned, cock twitching.
"God, what a messy fuckin' girl..."
You mewled, high on pleasure, beginning to palm at his crotch where his bulge pressed up against his zipper. Your hands groped the shape of him, and he hissed, grabbing hold of your hand.
"You want my cock that bad?" He whispered, your foreheads coming together and the two of you staring down at his bulge. "You want my cock in this pretty pussy?" The hand he had on your throat somehow found the wet space between your legs, rubbing his fingers along the seam there. You were so wet. He groaned. "You want my big cock to stuff this wet cunt, hm? Fill you with my cum? Fill you up and ruin you for anyone else?”
"Simon, oh my god." You uttered, still pawing at his hard cock. Your cunt was throbbing so fucking bad.
"This pussy just can't get enough, can she?" Simon mused, still rubbing at your overstimulated core, fingers grinding against the damp material covering your slit. "You fucked Gaz an' Soap, an' now you want my cock? So greedy, baby. Such a greedy little slut..."
His tone was so soft, that you almost missed the degradation. Instead, you shook your head, whimpering quietly as your fourth orgasm built in your lower tummy, the base of your spine tingling.
"No, no, haven't– fuck– haven't fucked them." You whispered hurriedly as he worked his fingers against you.
Simon tutted. "But you'd like that, wouldn't you? You'd love for both of them to fuck you, yeah? Just want three big fuckin' cocks stuffin' this tight fuckin' cunt."
Strong accent, more cussing. You moaned loudly. God, he was hot.
"I bet you want the captain's cock too, eh? Wouldn't be fuckin' surprised."
You moaned again, orgasm building heavier and heavier inside you. You imaged Price for a split second, and you moaned again.
Simon chuckled darkly. "Yeah? Needy girl, wanting four men? Want four cocks? Want us all to fuck you dumb, eh?" 'Course you fuckin' do."
"Please, Simon..." You whispered, body on fire.
He groan from the back of his throat. "But s'just me now, an' I'm the one making you come. So go on, pretty girl, come once more for me."
You came for a fourth time and you swear you almost blacked out. Stars burst behind your eyelids, a long string of whimpers falling from your lips as your cunt leaked arousal into your underwear, wetting your trousers even more. Simon peppered your face with kisses as you came down from your high, trembling, before he gathered you into his arms and hugged you to his broad chest.
"Good job, love," he whispered soothingly, rubbing your back. "Did such a good job for me. Such a good girl."
You were about to reply, something along the lines of– probably– begging for his cock even though you were so tired. But your phone buzzed against your desk, a brief vibration. You turned to look down at your screen to see a reminder flashing. Your eyes grew wide, realising you had another appointment in twenty minutes.
You peeled yourself away from Simon.
"Fuck, fuck!" You cursed. "I have another appointment in twenty minutes, Simon!”
"So?"
You looked at him, annoyed, then gestured to your trousers. "So? So? Simon, I've come four times in my fucking trousers and I'm wet."
He smiled.
"Don't fucking smile."
His smile dropped and he cleared his throat. "Right, sorry, love. I'll get you a pair'a my joggers if you want."
"You're taking the piss." You muttered as Simon got up, adjusting the way his hard cock sat in his trousers. You tried your best to avoid eye contact with it, as well as the large wet patch on his thigh. “Your joggers?”
He passed by you, kissing you gently on the forehead.
"Mhm," he hummed, already unlocking the door. "Anything for you, doc."
He disappeared, and you stared after him, shaking his head. Then, you spared a glance at yourself in the small mirror near the medical bed. You looked an absolute mess, with cum and saliva on your face. You groaned, heading towards the washbasin.
Maybe you had time to pop home and freshen up. Surely the captain wouldn't mind if you were a bit late.
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829 notes · View notes
wileys-russo · 3 months
Note
aitana bonmati, “we can’t get a cat”, mapis apartment
Maybe w a corporate y/n?
not helping II a.bonmatí
"so you are done travelling for the year now?" ingrid questioned from where you stood next to her washing up the dishes from lunch. "hopefully! that conference should have been the last." you sighed, forever popping in and out of the country for work.
"tana will be happy, she becomes miserable when you travel." ingrid rolled her eyes making you smile, knowing exactly how grumpy your girlfriend became when you weren't around.
"i know, i get about a hundred texts an hour demanding i come back home because she misses me." you grinned affectionately, though you knew deep down she'd be far more upset with you if you listened to her and returned, knowing how important your work really was to you.
"tana!" you blushed as suddenly her hand smacked your ass as she walked past, returning from the bathroom. "stop talking about me amor." your girlfriend warned with a smile, joining mapi back in the living room.
"hey! like you can talk." you shoved the norweigen beside you who made a whipping noise with her mouth and flicked her hand. "i am not the one who is whipped, maría is." ingrid grinned, drying her hands as you placed the final plate in the dry rack.
"oh really?" you grabbed the taller girls hand, tapping the small m ring on her finger with a raised eyebrow. "really?" ingrid retaliated by tapping the small golden a necklace around your neck.
"well, guess we're both-" you mocked her whipping noise and gesture from before as the taller girl laughed and shoved you, the two of you returning to the living room where your girlfriends were.
"hola princesa." you chuckled as you sat down and bagheera settled immediately into your lap, finger stroking down her spine. "they say cats are good judge of character." mapi pointed out as she leaned into ingrid.
"clearly bagheera is not." she added on at your expense making your girlfriend laugh as you frowned at the noise. "i think we should get a cat amor." aitana hinted with a smile as you rolled your eyes assuming she was joking.
"so when is your next away game?" you changed topics, bagheera walking from your lap into aitana's who cooed at her affectionately. "two more weeks, next champions league match." ingrid answered you, both your girlfriends too caught up playing with bagheera as you sent her a grateful smile.
"oh! look, bagheeras sister had kittens last week." mapi grabbed her phone off the coffee table and clicked into the photo, your girlfriend melting as she stared at the screen. "oh they are so cute." aitana sighed with a pout.
"bebita..." the brunette handed mapi her phone back and slid closer to you with a smile you knew all too well. "oh no! don't even try it tana." you chuckled, pushing away her hands which tried to tug you even closer to her.
"we should get a cat, a kitten." aitana smiled, eyes burning a hole into the side of your head as you sighed, head thumping back into the soft cushion of the lounge. "no amor, we should not." you shook your head firmly.
"why! you love bagheera." your girlfriend pointed out as the cat in question rubbed herself against your leg which didn't help your case. "sí amor but bagheera is not my cat so part of the reason i love seeing her is that i get to hand her back." you grinned as mapi sent you a glare and snatched back her daughter, holding her close to her chest.
"but we looked after her when they went to norway and it was fine?” aitana continued, arm draping across the back of your shoulders. "sí but again amor we handed her back." you remained firm on your point, shaking your head when she asked again.
"is she interested in selling the kittens?" your girlfriend ignored you, finger tracing circles on the back of your neck in an attempt to distract you as you pushed her arm off. "amor, we can't get a cat." you spoke more firmly.
"i could call and ask her?" mapi offered, the two of them conversing as if you weren't even in the room as you scoffed and looked to ingrid for help who shook her head, staying out of it.
"tana, mi amor we can't get a cat. you're always at training or games, i work all the time, we would never be home to look after a cat. that would not be fair!" you tried to reason with her as finally she looked at you, your resolve softening just slightly seeing the pleading look in her eyes.
"we are out a lot and bagheera is fine. cats like being alone sometimes!" mapi chimed in as you sent her a murderous glare. "not helping león!" you hissed as she shrugged, stroking bagheera.
"i am not trying to help amiga, at least not help you." mapi grinned sending your girlfriend a wink. "bebita por favor. if not a kitten then a cat, a rescue cat maybe! you know you like helping people, why not help a poor innocent cat mi amor?" aitana pouted as you sighed deeply, sensing this was not something you'd not get out of easily.
"we can discuss it at home cariño." your girlfriend smiled suggestively as she squeezed your thigh, and seeing the look in her eyes you knew this wouldn't be a conversation you would win.
"can you send me the number for the lady with the kittens please maps?" you sighed, your girlfriend kissing your cheek repeatedly as ingrid chuckled and once again made the whipping gesture with her hand.
"well it sounds like bagheera is becoming a tía!"
508 notes · View notes
eelnoise · 6 months
Text
deliverance earned, reverence paid
roronoa zoro x afab!reader
NSFW, minors DNI
cw: light bondage, sub!zoro, dom!zoro, dom!reader, sub!reader, titsucking (m receiving), hand job, blow job, reverse cowgirl riding, edging, hair pulling, biting
an: HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZOROOOOOO!!!!!!! let's all remember to love and cherish our boy today!!!!! anyway here's some self indulgent smut. 110cm btw
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“Stay still,” you remind him, somewhat sternly - just enough to garner his attention, if the slight tilt of his head is anything to go by. “You’re making this take longer than it should.”
“Only because you’re takin’ forever,” Zoro grumbles, and you notice that he’s looking everywhere but at you. “Could ya be any slower? Besides, it’s hard with your chest in my face.”
You sneer and finish tying his wrists to the headboard above him. Leaning back, you bring your now free hand to his jaw, holding him in place and gently tilting his head up fully toward you to force eye contact. The soft blush across his cheeks is almost enough to make you forget all of this, to free him from his bonds and allow him to fuck you until your lungs give out.
Almost.
“Then eyes on me,” you purr, the sultry slip of your tongue between your lips making Zoro’s cock throb against you. “Got it?”
Zoro looks away from you for a moment before sighing defeatedly. “Fine,” he mutters, narrowing his eyes, a hint of defiance behind them. “But ya know I could break these,” he adds, that smug, cynical tone returning once more as he motions to the binds above his head. “Pretty easily, right?”
"But where's the fun in that?" you ask, leaning down to hover your lips above his, letting your words brush teasingly against him. "You wanted a good time for your birthday, right?”
“That’s a risky game you’re playin’, sweetheart.”
“Pays off.”
“Hmph,” he huffs, giving you a short nod, his breath catching slightly in his chest at the touch. “I did.” Despite his initial hesitance about not wanting to be tied up, there’s something undeniably thrilling about having you over him this way, tantalizingly out of his reach, knowing he could turn this around at any moment if he truly wished to, something that makes his heart race and sends shivers down his spine.
You kiss him, smiling into it as you wrap your arms around his neck. His arms twitch, as if Zoro’s natural response to this would be to envelop you, to roam your body to his heart’s content, to swallow you whole.
Cute.
He groans into the kiss, rutting his hips into yours when you slide your tongue past his lips. Zoro clenches his fists, trying his damnedest to inch closer to you. Despite the restraints holding him in place, there’s no denying the raw, all-consuming desire that courses through every single fiber of his being - a desire that burns hotter with each passing moment that you’re above him.
You hum, pleased that he’s behaving - for now. The kiss deepens further, growing hungry and wet and just noisy. Tongues twist, lips smack, saliva pools - it’s a downright salacious sight. You grind your hips into his, bodies only separated by thin layers of clothing.
Zoro feels a fire ignite within him - a flame that threatens to consume him entirely. It’s a sensation he can’t describe, exhilaratingly exposed and at your whim, owning him, loving him.
He wants to be closer to you, to slide his hands along your back, your hips, desperate for more of whatever it is that’s coursing through his veins.
Countless saturating kisses later, you part from him - and you swear you hear him whine at the loss of the intimate touch. You drag open-mouthed kisses and slight nibbles of your teeth across his jawline and down his neck, a heavenly sigh efflorescent on his lips, the sound caught somewhere between pleasure and frustration as he squirms beneath you, trying desperately to find a way to return the favor.
The salty-sweet taste of Zoro’s skin is driving you crazy, and when you reach the flesh of his chest, it’s almost intoxicating. Hands trail down his shoulders, tracing delicate patterns into his skin. He hisses when your tongue meets his nipple in a teasingly quick, almost like testing for a reaction.
And he moans emphatically, gorgeously so. When you lock eyes upon him and leave a longer, more exploratory lap across the hardened bud, his back arches into your touch, eye(s) shutting and tilting his head backward in clear ecstasy.
"Shiiit," He groans out, unable to keep himself quiet. The sensation is new, but not unwelcome. "What the fuck, that feels so good."
You giggle, slurping your mouth around him and feeling his reaction go right between your thighs, though apparently, it does something to the man beneath you.
At the sound of your laughter, Zoro’s face turns redder than ever, and he lets out a frustrated growl. “What the hell is so damn funny?” he demands, knowing full well that there’s nothing he wants more than for you to continue your ministrations.
“I like the way you sound,” you grin, gently placing a few apologetic kisses between his pecs. “That’s all.”
Zoro scowls, a hint of embarrassment mixed in with annoyance. “Well, don’t expect me to appreciate it,” he snaps, though his voice is roughened with lust. In spite of his efforts to maintain a tough exterior, it’s clear that he’s enjoying your attention regardless - even if he won’t admit it out loud.
“Right,” you smile, knowing damn well he appreciates it. Returning to your work on his chest, lips now wrapping around his other nipple and your free hand groping the now neglected side, kneading the muscle there and causing him to writhe and shiver under your touch. “Then allow me to do the appreciating, hm?”
He doesn’t reply, simply gritting his teeth and leaving delectable, breathtaking sounds of bliss to echo in your ears. And when one of your hands dips down to palm the outline of the precum-stained bulge beneath his boxers, Zoro curses under his breath, the word breathless and rasp and needy.
You stroke him slowly, feeling him throb beneath your fingers. He can’t help but gently rock against your hand, seeking more friction and stimulation, and with your lips still bound tightly to his chest, you allow him to rut into your grip, savoring each beautiful whine and whimper that harmonizes between you.
Only when you think he’s had enough of the teasing do you slip your hand under the waistband to free his cock, thick and lengthy and leaking, from its confinement and letting it bounce against his stomach. Zoro lets loose a low cry of relief, followed by a string of discordant half-curses and fervid moans as you take his length in your hand and begin to properly stroke him, gathering the precum at his tip with your thumb before letting your fingers drag all the way to the base.
The privilege of freedom sends a chain reaction through Zoro’s veins, and he digs his nails into his palms, a feeble attempt at both a distraction to keep himself from cumming too fast and to sate the burgeoning urge to keep his wrists confined. Still, he involuntarily bucks his hips sharply into your fist, a subconscious reaction to regain control of the situation.
You stop your motions, pulling away from his chest with an audible *pop* of your lips, expression suddenly harsher than before. “Stay still.” You remind him.
He glares at you defiantly, though the look quickly turns into one of confusion when he realizes that you haven’t resumed your charity to his chest. “Why should I listen to you?” he demands, tone low and laced with sheer carnality. Through his bravado, however, he means not to disobey you - especially in this position.
You scoff, feigning surprise at his sudden change of attitude. “I could just leave, you know,” your voice darkens, taking on a more lurid inflection as you press your lips back to his skin and leave a series of kisses horizontally across his chest. “But we both know you’d miss this,” you add, pricking your teeth into the muscle there, your incisors carving their outlines deep enough into his flesh to sting, but not draw blood.
Zoro’s gaze narrows, and he clenches his jaw in response your teeth marking him. “Fine,” he growls, surrendering to the moment and, once again, to you.
With a smirk, you begin to kiss down his chest, leaving long, wet licks down his torso and toward his hips. You come to a stop right before you reach his cock, your hot breath enticing and practically taunting him. “You’re gonna be good, right?”
He hesitates for just a moment, torn between his instinctive desire to resist and the need to satisfy his own desires. Finally, he nods, admitting defeat in the face of your dominance. “Yeah… just get on with it, alright?” Zoro’s flushed, bashful pout does little to quell the rush of yearning that floods inside of you.
Satisfied with his answer, you smile and leave a small kiss to the head of his dick before sliding it between your lips, flicking your tongue up and down the underside of his shaft as you take more and more of him into your mouth. Zoro groans deeply, feeling his control slipping away as you expertly tease and lap at him with a craving that drives him feral. He can’t help but thrust his hips forward, trying to find deeper contact with the lith and dexterous favor you’re showering him with.
You know just what he likes, just how to please him in a way no one else can, and you make use of that knowledge. A hand wraps around him, fingers enclosing around his cock to assist in your motions and allowing you to better focus your attention on making him feel as good as you promised.
Zoro begins to tremble, his hips twitching frantically as the all too familiar sense of relief begins to rise within him. He feels himself slipping into delirium, and it’s taking most of what he has to hold back, though the endeavor is feeble. Despite his best efforts, the wave of pleasure crashes over him like a tidal wave, sending shudders throughout his entire body and causing him to let out a loud moan of ecstasy.
But right before he cums, you pull back, removing both your hand and your mouth from him. The desperate angry wail that he sings out, a lament in anguish of fruitless deliverance.
"Fuckin' tease!" Zoro snarls, struggling against the ropes that bind him to the bedpost and baring his teeth. He knows that only you have the power to bring him to the brink like this, and to deny him release? Vile.
"Calm yourself~” you coo playfully, rolling off of the bed with grandiose, bending over slowly and removing your underwear, giving Zoro agonizingly painful throes of temptation and making a show of such a simple gesture. "You'll get what you want.”
Zoro watches as you remove the the final barrier of sin, his eyes lingering on your exposed pussy for a moment before returning to your face. He knows that you're toying with him, and it only adds to his frustration and arousal. "You better not be fuckin' with me," he warns, his voice rough with emotion.
You're not fucking with him. In fact, you need him just as much as he needs you right now, and you're about to show him just how much that is.
Returning to his side, you crawl over toward him and hoist your legs over his meaty thighs. You straddle his hips with your back toward him, one hand reaches behind you to guide his cock along your drenched folds, languidly aligning him with your entrance.
Zoro looks down as you sink down on him, his expression twisting into one of transcendent salacity. He can feel the heat radiating from your body and slowly does it surround his pulsating and needy cock.
Your inner walls clench and accommodate his fat, heavy length in a way that has you both crying out in pleasure. Once again do you feel his muscles tense with the need to touch you, spurring you onward with fervor.
As you slide down further onto his throbbing cock, Zoro has to close his eye(s), unable to watch as your cunt devours inch after inch of him. The feeling of being surrounded by your warm, wet pussy makes his toes curl, and he can't help but push his hips upward in an attempt to drive deeper into you. He can't resist the urge to move – it's as if every nerve in his body is focused on the incredible sensations coursing through him.
You rock your hips when he finally bottoms out within you, easing yourself into a rhythm comfortable enough to keep your footing. Bouncing up and down his, you begin to add to Zoro's lust filled babble, the sound of your own mirth entwining with his as you ride him.
Skin slaps against skin, and Zoro's full attention is back upon you in an instant as your pace quickens, watching his cock disappear within you with every slam of your ass against his pelvis. The sight is unholy, and it's downright disgraceful that he can't touch you, to grip you by the hip with one hand and pull your hair with the other - to force your eyes on him as he fucks you stupid.
“So fuckin’ tight,” Zoro pants, biting his lower lip harshly, transfixed upon your motions. “Ya feel so good, baby. Feels so fuckin’ goooood~”
His praise goes straight to your core, and with renewed vigor do you lean forward, using his knees as leverage to snap against him faster, a move that rewards you with a satisfied sigh. You feel his cock throb, the tip kissing the bundle of nerves deep within you in your shifted position.
But it's still too slow for Zoro, his growing need threatening to outweigh his patience with you.
“Faster,” he whines, his hips nudging into yours with more and more force. “Need more, please.”
The pleasantry causes you to tighten around him, and you attempt to give him what he wants, now bouncing wildly and crying out in ecstasy as you ride him with all that you can give.
It's not enough.
Far too lost in the act, you don't register Zoro's movements, and it's only when you hear the snapping of his binds and the sudden death grip at your hip do you realize that he's free.
A large, thick fingered hand tangles into your locks and pushes you forward, falling onto your forearms and allowing Zoro to maneuver himself onto his knees to plunge into your cunt from behind. You mewl and writhe under him, forceful thrusts tuning you into singing his favorite canticle, your hymn muffling only when he presses your face into the mattress.
“You’re gonna shut up and take it, yeah?” Zoro taunts, pulling your head back by the strands of hair between his fingers. You nod, unable to form any coherent words due to the assault on your pussy. “Use your words, princess. Gonna take my cock till you can't walk straight, right?” He adds, leaning forward to sink his teeth into your shoulder.
“Yes!” You wail, completely sapped of any will to disobey, melting under the dominance that he so urgently craves. “Need you to f-fuck me stupid, Z-Zoro! Please!” Each word sputters from you pathetically, and you hear Zoro snicker audibly above you.
“Good girl,” he muses, slamming his cock into you at a mouthwatering pace. “Cause it's my birthday, after all.”
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