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luveline · 1 year

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𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

When Eddie asks you on a date, you don’t believe it. He probably meant as friends, right? Spoiler alert — Eddie wants to be more than friends, and he’s willing to prove it. [4k]

fluff, slight hurt/comfort, fem!reader, plus-sized!reader, reader feels undesirable, kissing, obligatory ‘don’t be cruel’ scene, eddie calls you pretty like ten times, requested here

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie has one of those smiles that screams trouble. Every time he looks at you with that smile he might as well have "I'm gonna break your heart," written across his forehead in tandem.

You sneak a glance at him across the atrium. Eddie’s paused bussing tables to talk to a patron, his customer service voice in play with a matching smile. It isn't the one you mean, but it's bad enough to make you flush red-hot. You cross your arms over the bar, regret it for its stickiness, and let your head rest against the crook of your elbow.

You've been working together for a long time now, almost six months, and he's your favourite coworker hands down. He cleans up after himself, he brings snacks that you never accept (lest you look like the greedy chubby girl you worry everyone expects you to be), and he talks to you like a real person.

It's horrifying and it's not fair, but being fat means that sometimes guys don’t want to look at you. They don't want to be in the same room with you, and you can tell; they avert their eyes, or simply don't talk to you directly.

You've never had that feeling with Eddie. He meets your eyes, unflinching, and he sends you one of those pretty smiles and you think Fuck, because he should've been a movie star, he has the cheekbones for it, or a rockstar like that band he's always raving about. He'd have a slim LA girl on both arms, no doubt about it.

He likely wouldn't waste his time with you.

Not someone pretty as he is. Sometimes he'll lean over and expose the flat stretch of his stomach, his v-lines and the dark trail of hair peeking above his jeans, and you feel acutely miserable 'cause you know you'll never get to touch him. Workplace crushes suck.

"Hey, are you okay?" a voice asks, a hand dropping against your shoulder.

You pull yourself up quickly. Speak of the devil, Eddie stands beside you with his hair tied away from his face. He looks more entertained than concerned, his smile unfortunately genuine.

"I'm fine," you say, stepping back. His hand falls away from your shoulder. "Sorry, just tired."

Eddie leans into your space, squinting. You freeze up, but he's only checking the time on the clock behind you. "Gotta tough it out. Still an hour and a half 'til closing."

Which means there's more than two hours of your shift left. Your face must show how unexciting that is —Eddie laughs, warm and quiet, and gives your hand a squeeze.

"You'll live," he promises. "Are you busy tonight? Maybe we could go get pizza or something."

"What, nobody else is available?" you ask.

His head juts back a touch, put upon shock. "And why can't I ask you? I like you and I like pizza, that's a good combination. And even if you don't like me that much, you like pizza, right?"

You know —you know, you do— that Eddie doesn't mean it as a slight. This isn't some thinly veiled insult on how you look. Why wouldn't you like pizza? Most people do, but his comment twists itself into an evil inky ball in your chest anyways, thick and hot as tar.

You shake it off.

"Who says I don't like you?" you ask, steering the conversation away from food altogether.

His smile gets somehow better, which is to say worse. You're being punished for something, a childhood wrongdoing or a future crime, perhaps. Nothing else could warrant the mental torture that is being so close to him while he looks the way he does.

"Good. Good, then we should get pizza. It's a date," he says, nodding.

Morgan the shift manager calls for him to stop distracting you, though the Hideout is abandoned tonight, and there's nothing to distract you from. Eddie stands at full height, with a soldier's salute. "Yes, sir. No more lollygagging." He turns to you when you laugh, and you share a secret smile.

He and Morgan disappear into the back of house. If you strain your ears, you can hear Eddie complaining about having to keep his hair in a bun, as it's totally against what he stands for, dude, it's stifling his self expression.

"Count yourself lucky I don't make you wear a hair net, kid," Morgan says.

You turn back to your sticky bar, numb. It's a date? Did he mean, like, an actual date? A romantic date?

Not a chance in hell. It's a colloquialism. Nothing more.

Despite yourself, you stare into the silver reflection of a beer tap and try to liven up. You fix your hair, check your teeth, dig a lip balm out of your apron pocket and scratch the corners of your mouth just in case. The entire time you're heckling yourself about delusions. Eddie Munson doesn't like you. He's had a girl come around once or twice, and she'd been everything you're not: slender, confident. You'd wanted to dislike her, but she hadn't done anything wrong. There's no crime in being desirable.

For the remainder of the night, you man the bar and serve the occasional patron. It's a Sunday night, so most stick to light beer or soft drinks. The live entertainment says goodnight and the Hideout empties like an opened floodgate. You clean the bar, Eddie buses the tables, and the kitchen staff turn on the radio and get to work cleaning. Soon, you can smell cigarette smoke and reheated mozzarella sticks.

You wander into the kitchen to help.

"Hi beautiful," Leon says, one of the cooks, "you want something to eat?"

"No she does not!" Eddie says, helping the dishwasher Marcie with her last round of plates. Suds drip down to his rolled sleeves as he waves his hands around. "We're going to get pizza."

"Yes!" Marcie says, delighted.

"Where are we going?" Paul asks, another cook.

"We," Eddie says, pointing at you and then himself, "are going to Marletto's. Yeah?"

You startle when you realise he's asking you. "Oh, sure. Anywhere you want."

His head bobs up and down, pleased. He goes back to his dishes. "Anywhere I want," he murmurs to Marcie, though he's saying it for everybody to hear, "hear that, Marc? I'm spoiled."

You wipe down a few counters, label some leftover iceberg lettuce and put it back in the fridge. It's easy work, made better by the camaraderie of your coworkers, but you can't settle down. Your heart races at what's to come. "It's a date," is starting to feel less colloquial now Eddie's dissuading the other from joining you. That's how that works, right? He wants to be alone with you.

It might not mean anything. Maybe Eddie needs something from you he doesn't want the others to know about, like money. Maybe he wants girl advice, finally chasing that pretty girl who drops by sometimes. Or boy advice —there's a guy who comes around too, tall and blond and handsome.

There's a logical solution. Any other girl would hear the word date and take it at face value, but you aren't them. You're you. You can't remember the last time somebody looked at you with desire in their eyes, if they ever have. High school was a shit show and work isn't exactly a hub for romance. Eddie joining the team here is the most excitement you've ever had in your life, for all his gentle squeezes and teasing elbows, his inside jokes and his tendency to burst into an air guitar solo at any given moment. He's a cheeseball, and you like him. It sucks.

"Hi, are you ready?" he asks, coming out of nowhere. You're kneeling down near the lockers tying your shoelaces.

It is a horrible position for him to see you in. You can't imagine what you look like, but you know it won't be pretty. You spring up with your shoelace untied still and smile weakly. "Yeah, I'm ready."

"You need help with that?" he asks, eyes on your shoe.

You burn with embarrassment. "I– no, I–"

Eddie kneels down on the floor and reaches for your shoe. He ties it quickly in a double-knotted bunny-loop and pats the side of your ankle when he's done. When he looks up at you, you're in the middle of hoping a natural disaster will occur and put you out of your misery.

He smiles at you from his position. Does he ever stop?

"Cool," he says, standing up. He grabs his coat from his locker and doesn't bother closing it. "Let's go! I'm starving, man, Leon needs to mess up more often so I can steal the rejects."

You follow him in a daze. Through the lockers and out of the kitchen, waving goodbye to the lingering closers and a grimacing Morgan. You aren't looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow. You're more than sure he'll have something to say about workplace fraternising and general dawdling.

"You okay for us to take the van?" he asks.

Eddie's given you rides home before, and what felt awkward before has lended itself to a familiarity. You nod your agreement and cross the small parking lot out back, your breath rising in the cold night air.

Eddie pulls open the passenger door of his van with a strong-armed tug.

"Been meaning to get the latch looked at. I'd rather it have trouble opening than trouble closing, though, so that's a plus."

He waits for you to climb the short step and sit before he closes the door.

“All limbs inside the ride?" he asks.

You laugh. It comes out weird. You kind of sound like you're being held at gunpoint.

Eddie gets in the van and makes small talk as he starts the engine and pulls her out of the lot. Your mind isn't there, exactly, or rather it's too close. You want to think about your answers but instead you're worrying about how you look while you say them. You're worried about the seat belt around your stomach, and the way you look from the side. Being around Eddie makes you more self-conscious than usual.

Marletto's isn't the best pizza place in Hawkins but it's open until three AM. You and Eddie take the first empty booth you come across, and the agony of ordering in front of someone else begins.

"Meat feast for me, obviously," he says, pulling off his jacket.

The cracked vinyl seat beneath him crunches with his movement. You dedicate yourself to staying still.

"I'll get a margarita," you say, glancing between him and the menu for his reaction.

"Didn't take you for such a bore," he teases. "Drinks? Sides?"

"Just water will be fine."

"Are you sure? I'm paying. If you wanna take advantage of me, now's the time."

You shake your head, pushing your cold hands under your thighs.

Eddie frowns. "If you're sure…"

He gets up to track down the register. You sit there, wondering why you agreed to this, what possessed you, why you could ever think this was a good idea. You don't wanna eat in front of him, you don't know what to say, he's looking at you like everything's normal but this is so not normal, this is the opposite side of the spectrum.

Eddie returns with your water and a coke, all smiles despite your clear nerves.

He puts the drinks down and clambers into the seat with a leg folded underneath himself, his elbows halfway across the table. He looks you straight in the face.

"That guy just looked at me like I was crazy. I'm hungry, sue me. Three orders of mozzarella sticks is a normal human thing to get, right?"

"Three?" you ask.

His hand reaches toward you. If your hand were there, he'd likely squeeze it roughly as he sometimes does, like a playful scolding. "I'm hungry," he repeats. "I didn't get any lunch on my lunch break. What's the point in that? Just sat down in the locker room thinking about it. It was actually worse than working."

"You should've had Leon make you a burger. He's always offering."

"Always offering you, maybe. The rest of us gotta fend for ourselves."

"That's not true. He asks Marcie, too."

"Yeah, well, Leon's a sucker for pretty girls."

You look down at the table.

"I got enough fries for both of us, I know you didn't want any sides but everyone wants fries. I won't be sharing the mozzarella sticks, so if you want some you better speak now." He raps the table with his knuckles. When you look up, his face softens. "Well, alright. Maybe I'll share them with you. I'm a sucker, too."

"What's that mean?"

"What?"

"You know what," you say.

Eddie crosses his arms across the table. His hands and arms are pale, the ink of his black tattoos stark. You could draw them without prompting, that's how often you've fallen into his trap. When he crosses his arms like this, his biceps bulge up a little bit, emphasising the pretty curves and ridges of his arms and the hints of greeny-blue veins hiding under his skin. He tilts his head toward his shoulder, his limp curls dragging against the table.

"It means…" he says, holding your eyes, a gentle smile playing on his lips, "that you're pretty. You're so pretty, I'd do anything you asked me to."

You flinch. You pull your numb hands from under your thighs and cover your stomach with your forearms, glaring at the table between you thoughtlessly.

"That's cruel."

"What?"

"That's cruel, Eddie. You're being mean," you mutter.

"I–" Eddie stammers. "What? I'm just trying to tell you how I think about you– how I feel. I'm sorry if you don't wanna hear it, I'm not trying to be mean."

Hurt creeps into the lines of your face, your eyebrows pulled down and the starts pulled up, your lips pursed. Heat bursts in your throat as a molten lump takes shape there. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you have to.

"I thought you were my friend," you say quietly.

"I want to be more than that."

"You're making fun of me."

"No."

Eddie reaches across the table again. There's nothing for him to grab so he spreads his fingers and presses his palm flat. He ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are ridiculously big, the black of his pupils blown and leaching into his dark irises until they're almost indistinguishable in the fuzzy lighting of the restaurant.

"Come on," he says quietly, "when have I ever done that to you? I mess around, but I wouldn't say shit like that unless I meant it." His fingers lift off of the table. "I mean it. I think you're beautiful." His voice takes on a raw quality.

You bite the tip of your tongue, fully frowning now. "I don't believe you," you say.

"Why not?" he asks, frowning back.

"Because I'm– I'm– I'm fat." You hate yourself for saying it out loud.

People hate that word. Usually, if you admit to it, there's a rushed response. No, you're not. Pretty friends talk you down, loved ones wrap an arm around your shoulder and harp about puppy fat or big bones.

Eddie doesn't do either. He sits back in his seat and smiles hesitantly.

"Why's that a bad thing?" he asks. He shakes his head at himself. "I mean– I'm sorry, I should've said you aren't, you aren't–"

"No, I am," you say.

"You're so pretty," he says again, in a rush. "I don't care what size you are, I really don't. I just think you're beautiful and I wanted to ask you on a real date but I saw you and I couldn't wait anymore." He wraps his hand around the neck of his coke bottles and pulls it towards his chest. "Shit, I've made a huge fucking mess of it."

You lean forward. Your body doesn't know what to do, the whiplash of hurt smothered by his enthusiastic, sincere compliments.

Why's that a bad thing? means more than anything else he said to you.

"You really think I'm pretty?" you ask timidly.

"Drop dead," he says. Hope flickers behind his eyes. "Morgan pulled me aside on my second week, you know that? Said if I didn't stop staring at you he'd put me in the back for the week."

"He did put you in the back," you say, confused.

"Exactly."

Oh. You raise your head properly. Eddie's watching you, just you, obviously waiting for you to speak. The hope on his face is clear as day now, his lips parted, the tiniest peek of his tongue on display.

"You promise you aren't messing with me?" you ask finally.

"I promise." He holds his hand out, palm up. "I swear."

Your heart a hummingbird, you take your hand from your waist and put it carefully in his. His fingers curl around yours like a prince, the tip of his thumb rubbing over your knuckles slowly, half an inch at a time. You exhale out of your nose as goosebumps race up your arm.

He looks like he has more to say, but the pizza and all his sides arrive. You spring apart like teenagers, blood rushing in your ears. The server unloads his tray.

"Alright guys," he says, looking down at you both with a knowing smile. "Anything else I can get you while I'm here?"

Eddie sneaks a look at you that holds way too much meaning. "No, I think we're alright."

There's a tiny, awkward silence. You busy yourself with unfolding a napkin over your lap, not sure what to say to bridge the gap.

Eddie takes the plunge.

He slides a basket of mozzarella sticks at you. "Pretty girl privileges," he says.

You feel insecure eating in front of him, but the sheer ferocity of his compliments discourages any shame. He thinks you're pretty. He held your hand like it was made of glass and he got put in Hideout jail for staring.

"I think you're handsome, too," you say.

Eddie almost chokes on a handful of fries. "Shit," he says, swallowing roughly, hand thumping at his chest. "Thank god for that. I mean, of course you do. My devilish good looks are hard to resist."

He's not wrong.

—

Getting put on kitchen duty isn't half as bad as Morgan seems to think it is. Eddie kind of likes it, the noise, the chaos, the heat. Plus, he can steal fries hot and fresh out of the basket. He's only burned himself once.

"What're you in for?" Leon asks him.

"Staring."

"You're a freak, Munson, you know that?"

Eddie shrugs. "If your girlfriend looked like mine, you'd stare too."

"Uh-huh." Leon grabs up a spatula to flip a burger, pink meat down and brown side up. Fat sizzles dangerously. Neither man flinches. "She ain't going nowhere."

"You don't know that. Some rockstar might blaze through here and snap her up. Who would I be to stop her? She should be a trophy wife, she's a stunner."

"Christ," Marcie says from across the room.

"How the fuck can you hear us?" Eddie asks. Over the sound of the overhead spray and the sizzle of the burners, Marcie must have superpowers or something.

"Uh, 'cause you're fucking yelling," she says.

Eddie looks to Leon for some defence, but Leon agrees. "You are super loud."

"You would be too–"

"If I had a girlfriend as pretty as yours," Leon says, audibly grouchy. "I know."

"Don't be jealous that I got there first."

"How is this fair? You get in trouble and I'm the one punished."

Eddie blows a big breath out of the corner of his mouth, one of his shorter curls dancing away from his warm face. Ridiculous. They're all awful, and jealous, and nobody wants him to be happy. "Losers," he mumbles.

He's kidding, mostly. He knows that everyone is actually very happy for the both of you. How could they not be? Eddie's happier than ever and you've turned to mush. It's his favourite thing in the world.

He thought you were pretty before. These days, you're gold dust incarnate. You see him and smile like you've been waiting for him, no more nervousness (which, he found out, was down to a raging crush on him) (he walked on air for days), no more shying away from his touch. Eddie puts a hand on your shoulder and you don't tense; you melt. Butter in the sun.

It's glorious.

And sure, Eddie ends up in the brig a lot. He 'hovers' apparently. So what? He'll say it again, if any of these guys were in his shoes, they'd fall victim to the same compulsion.

He waits for an opportunity to arise, four dinner tickets and a dishwasher disaster, and sneaks away as silently as he can manage, creeping out of the kitchen and to the bar. You're busy pouring a beer and don't notice him until the customer's left and he's wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Eddie," you scold lightly, leaning forward to accommodate his weight against your back, "come on. You might actually lose your job."

"They can't fire me. I'm the best bus boy ever."

You turn your face to look at him. Eddie wants to put you on TV, you look that sweet.

"No, you're awful, you," —Eddie interrupts you, leaning down for a quick chaste kiss— "distract me, and you," —he steals a second— "don't actually bus tables when you should," you finish, disjointed.

He brings his hand to your soft cheek, stroking a badly behaved baby hair back into place. You go lax like he's some kind of quick fix drug, and your eyes contain a tenderness that makes his chest ache. He covers his heart with his hand.

"You're awful," you murmur.

He takes your face into both hands slowly. One cups your cheek, and the other slides behind your ear. He pulls your face forward and down toward his chin, his lips by your ear. You smell amazing. His eyes close on instinct.

"A little. It's not my fault. You're just–"

"So pretty?" you ask. "Yeah, you've told me."

"I have, have I? Have to let me tell you again." He kisses the skin before your ear, more a press of his lips than anything. "You're beautiful," he mouths.

You shiver, but ultimately end up planting your hands against his chest and ushering him away from you.

"Stop it. I mean it! We're in public, at work, and you're gonna mess me up."

"I want to mess you up," he says easily.

"I know you do."

Eddie sighs, agonised, but heeds your warning. "Alright," he says, squeezing your shoulder in goodbye. You smile and squeeze his elbow in return. It's your new thing, silent conversation in fond touches.

He's a couple of feet away when the urge to turn back is too much. He jogs back to your side, gets his hand behind your neck, and kisses you with enough pressure that your lips part underneath his in shock. He adores the side of your neck with his thumb one sweeping stroke at a time, his nose digging sliding against yours as he inches in further, and further. The dizzy pleasure of your lips can't be understated. Eddie fights back a kiss-ruining smile with all he's worth.

"Sorry," he says, pulling back. Your lips shine and you blink, dazed. "Sorry," he says again, leaning in to kiss them dry.

You laugh quietly, a breath against his cheek, and he's a goner, dropping pecks all over your pretty face until you're giggling and sinking into his arms.

"I really am sorry." He punctuates with a kiss under your jaw.

"No," you say breathlessly. Your hand twines loosely in his hair. "You're not."

No, he isn't. He's never felt less sorry for anything in his life.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! If you did, please consider reblogging, it helps more than you know!! <3

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things fanfiction #fem!reader #eddie munson x plus sized reader #eddie munson x plus size reader

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dark-and-kawaii · 5 months

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༺ 𝒜 𝒟𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 ༻

You never expected a Devil to be your savior, never expected to be cherished by him…

PRT 2 (CLICK HERE) - Fluff - Soft Raphael - Past Talk About Abuse

Gazing outside his balcony, you watched as yet another red storm began to stir throughout Avernus. The wilted trees bend to the will of the fiery winds. The overcast clouding your view of the mountains, and with a deep sigh this dreary day has brought back memories you had thought you’d forgotten. A life full of pain and restrictions… But the devil took you away from it all, and gave you a new life with new meaning.

With a subtle startled expression as you felt your hand graze one of the small buttons on your wrist, you look down with a warm smile as you continue to run your hand along the soft cotton of Raphael’s opulent dress shirt. You nearly had forgotten that on days such as this you quite enjoy stealing his shirts. They always brought you such comfort and joy, who would’ve thought… A devil bringing you such comfort. It’s laughable really. Holding your arm to your lips you can smell the scent of cherries and sulfur, it relaxes your muscles and you can’t help but to thank him aloud to yourself, “Thank you, my devil.”

“For what, pray tell little mouse of mine?”

And just like a tiny mouse, squealing wasn’t the right word for the noise you had just made… But with a tiny cute noise, you hastily turned around on his silken bed to face the devil himself, Raphael… He was always so handsome no matter the form he took, right now though he appeared human. His milk chocolate eyes watching you with interest, his hand resting on his chin. Everything about him was so grandiose and each time you looked him in the eyes your heart would skip a beat.

The Devil wasn’t perfect, he had his flaws just as everyone else did… He also had his own ambitions to rule the 9 hells… But, for whatever reason, those flaws made him even more special to you. Yes, he was the son of Mephistopheles. Yes, he is technically one of the “bad” guys, but… unlike the last villain that had captured you… Raphael was soft with you, treated you as if you were some sort of delicate flower that would break apart if not careful. He had his souls he enjoyed to flail and torture, yet with you it was different… the devil had no need to put you through such horrors. He cherished and protected you like a dragon with its hoard of treasure.

“R-Raphael- I uh-… Thank you… For…”

Just his presence alone made you flustered, it couldn’t be helped.

“It would seem that the cat has caught this little mouse’s tongue.” A small laugh emanated from his chest, “How, precious.”

You grin at his response.

Damn near everyone would disagree with you, but in your eyes, Raphael wasn’t foul, not like Astarion was… This devil you came to know throughout your adventure didn’t hold you by a leash… Didn’t force you down whenever he pleased, or gauge your neck with his teeth to prove a point- Your flushed face reducing to a pale complexion as your hand cups where Astarion left his mark on you. A chill runs down your spine remembering when Astarion the Ascended chained you for days… All because you wanted to run out into the city for some fresh brioche and to say hello to Gale.

Raphael, a devil, son of Mephistopheles… Never chained you nor held you against your will. He let you run out into the real world… Let you do as you pleased. You knew he’d make Korilla follow after you. But it wasn’t due to lack of trust, it was plainly because he wanted to keep you safe and out of the Vampires grasps.

Like a falling feather, you gracefully glide off Raphael’s bed. His shirt on you flowed at the bottom thanks to it being far too big on you making this scene before him look like it was out of a book- and into his chest you fell. Your arms wrapping around him while your cheek pressed against his arm that crossed against his chest.

“What’s better than a devil you do know?” You looked up at him questioning.

“By all means please do enlighten me.” His hand never left his face and his other arm stayed crossed over his chest as you embrace him.

“A devil thats your savior…” -You looked away from him, staring back out the balcony-, “I don’t think you’d ever find a quote like that in a book, but I’m thankful for you, Raphael. Truly. Thank you.” You press your face into him, your lashes fluttering close.

Raphael would never tell you how he waited for your hope to whittled down to the very marrow of despair- how he waited for you to whimper his name between sobs while chained to the vampires personal bed. The Devil would also never admit how it pained him to see such a treasure being handled in such ways, yet he wanted you to call out to him. He’s still a devil after all… So he waited all that year, waited for you to call out his name for help, pleading to sign whatever it is he desired…

“You didn’t belong with such filth.”- you didn’t need to look up to know he was scrunching his face, you could hear it in his voice- “Fine beauty such as yourself belongs in a much more suitable home.” He finally moved his hand from his face to the top of your head. Petting you like some adored pet.

Raphael, from the moment he laid eyes on you, knew he'd make you apart of his plan forever someday. He just didn’t expect you to vanish all of a sudden… The damn vampire had ascended and taken you… All those years you were caged like some sort of animal. Nowhere to go, forced into things you wanted no part of… Living like a rat.

A rarity had shown its face as Raphael peered down at you, you didn’t see it and Raphael could only hope for once that Haarlep didn’t see the concern on his face.

Astarion still walks among the living, and Raphael can’t be everywhere…

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #raphael x reader #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #Astarion #astarion x tav #tav #bg3 tav #bg3 raphael x tav

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ja3hwa · 6 months

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♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟗: 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 [𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫] - 𝐂.𝐒 ♡

My Everything

【Synopsis】 : Rain was pouring, and your heart was aching. You didn't care what the villagers nor that priest thought about him. You loved him, and you were going to prove it.

『Word count』 : 2.14k

-> Genre: Smut. Fantasy. Demon Au

Paring: Gargoyle!San x Human!Reader

[Warnings] : Public sex [in a garden] sex in the rain. Oral [both receiving] fingering, clit play. Cum play-ish. Making out. Swearing. Pet names. Fake names. Demonic and religious concepts. Dirty talk. Cemie pie. Squirting.

Note : The long awaited demon San is here. I'll be honest I was so busy i didn't get time to write this fic, and when Kinktober rolled around, i thought it was what better time than now. So thank you, everyone from this poll for everyone picking San for this concept.

This story is my own flare of the original creators' webcomic. So the lore, characters, and other story design have been tweaked and changed to fit what i wanted to write. Make sure to check out the original author of this wild story.

I want to thank the original creator of this amazing universe and beautiful character's, @ilustrariane . Please check out their work! It's to die for. You can get there full 18+ E-book and its argh my happy place. ♡♡♡

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You ran faster than your legs could carry you, nearly slipping over even bend and turn you took. The pouring rain had soaked your tunic and all of your undergarments. Your shoes were also squelching with every stomp your feet did. You were in a panic, frantically praying that he would be alright. The priest of your village warned you―more like threatened you―about involving yourself with the devil as he put it. ‘Those beasts are not to be trusted. They are demons in disguise. Filth. Inhuman.’

You obviously ignored the old man, having no time with such lies. That beast was the most kindest creature you know. He was more caring than any human you've ever met. He understood you, heard you, got to know you. Everyone in the village only looked at you as the witch's daughter, the spawn of the devil herself. You were nothing and the only way to be something was to submit. Be one with god, marry the priest and prove you were devoted to the lord.

“Sun! Sun where are you!!” You called in the blistering winds, repeating the fake name he gave you when you first met. You see, he was in fact a demon, just like the priest had screamed at you, but he was more. He was a gargoyle, one of Lilith's children, trapped, bound to the ruined castle just beyond the village. One of the priests from the before had managed to get his real name and trap him with a blood curse, locking him to only do the bidding of the said man. But now that Sun was alone, he had no way to break the curse, living the rest of the days in the place he called home, imprisoned by sunlight. You had climbed stairs and rock structures to get up to one of the garden points in the castle, seeing where your lover usually lays, under a concrete arch, empty and bare. Where was he?

You called again but this time your voice got caught in your throat as a giant rumble crashed down to the earth's core. Sun’s wings were spread wide, having landed only mere meters from you. His huge form was hunched over, his palms spread out on the wet pavement. He had tears in his cold eyes. “I told you to never come back! Why do you not listen.” his voice bellowed around you into the forestry beyond, having enough power to shake the trees.

“I can’t leave you Sun. Please.” Your tears were covered by the heavy rain pour, your hair sticking to your red puffy face. You couldn’t just forget about him, not now that he had tainted you. He was yours and you, his. And you were going to fight for it, until your last breath.”Look at me!”

Your yelp got the demon's attention, making him stand at all his height. His fanged mouth growled, annoyed but also riddled with guilt. He would never thought the night he had with you was a mistake. Frankly, it was one, if not the best moment in his lifetime. But he needed to keep his distance from you. He needed you safe. Protected, alive. And he was something that was unable to do so. He was filth. A demon. You are this light. Innocent human. He shouldn’t, he can’t be the one that taints such a delicate flower. “Darling, please. I… I can’t.”

You stomped over to his form pushing on his strong broad chest. He fell with little effort landing on the wet concrete, soaking the fabric that wrapped around his waist. He could have held his ground not letting you move his large body with such ease, but he didn’t want to. He needed you close no matter how hard his mind was fighting him. You wasting no time in locking your lips against his. If talking wasn’t going to work then you were going to show him that he was meant for you. You needed him like the air you breathe and he wasn’t about to make the choice to die and leave you alone on this earth without you trying your best to stop him.

“Don’t leave me.” You whispered against his lips, feeling his long demonic tongue slip into your mouth. You moaned climbing the creature so your legs dangled over each of his crossed thighs. His hand, the same width as your waist, held tightly on your hip while the other cupped your face, holding you firmly in place. His tongue abused your own for a moment, basking in the rain now only lightly pouring. His nose brushed against yours, lips moving from yours, to your jaw, and then to your collarbone.

“I’ll never leave you my flower. I promise. I’m sorry.” His voice was raw, filled with pain and sorrow. He would never want you to fear such a thing but in toe, had made the fear brew from his outburst. You slide down off his lap falling in between his thighs. Your fingers quickly fumble with his cloth before tugging his growing cock free. The cold rain pouring down made the demon hiss, but your warm hands made his mind spin. Your fingers could barely wrap around the almost hardened cock. Now looking at him probably you now wonder how it even fitted in you in the first place. Your mouth took his tip, jaw aching at the sheer size of him. but you bushed forwards sucking on him making him groan, dipping his head backwards. Your mouth felt amazing even if you couldn’t take him whole. Your whimpers and gags vibrated on his cock in the perfect way and your harsh grip was sending him over the edge. “fuck, if you keep going I’m gonna cum down that pretty throat of yours.”

His growl went straight to your pussy, making you try and take more of him in your mouth, letting saliva drip down your chin, soaking his cock along with his precum. You used one hand to continue stroking him while you used another to slip under your soaked dress, pressing your fingers firmly on your clit. Your moans were the perfect missing piece to send him over the edge, emptying his hot seed down your throat. “Fuck!!” his hand that held your face snaked and tighten in your hair, holding your still as he jerked his hips slightly. You pulled away making some of his juices squirt out on your face.

God, was it a sight to see.

Your wide eyes looking at him with nothing but devotion while covered in his cum. How did he ever get so lucky finding you in such a cruel dark world? He sat up quickly, ripping all the fabric on your body, throwing the drenched tattered material somewhere across the garden. His huge hands gripped our thighs tugging you up until you sat on his chest, feeling some of your juices leak out onto his scarred body. You felt embarrassed, but your lover couldn’t think about anything in that moment other than having your pussy over his face. So with his insane strength, he lauds you forward, letting your cunt meet his lips. He pushed you down light so your body could lay on top of his while on your back. Tilting your face to the right you see his hardening cock twitch. His long demonic tongue licked a strip up your slit making your whole body visibly shivers. Your nails digging into his hips trying to hold onto any part of his giant frame. “Ffffucckk please!”

His tongue enters you, fucking you slowly as one of his hands lays flat on your tummy pushing pressure onto your body and making your toes curl. His other hand that still gripped tightly on your inner thigh opens slightly so his large thumb could reach your clit, pressing harshly on your nub. He could eat you for hours and never get tired of the way your body moves, the way it responds to every touch he gives or the way you moan and whimper his name over and over again. It was like an angel singing. Elegant, perfect and pure

“Hmm come.” His voice was almost not audible as he kept eating you like a starved beast making the vibrations hit just the right spot to send you reeling over the edge. He gave you no time to relax after your high though as your demonic lover picked you up with no effort at all and bend you over the concrete statue seat that he would sit at for centuries waiting for freedom. All your clothing had been ripped and torn away at this point leaving you completely baring in the cold dark night. The rain had not stopped but only got lighter for a moment before pouring some more. You would surely get sick after this encounter if you were not to leave at this moment. But neither of you made an effort to find shelter or privacy. No, he needed you now just as much as you to him. “Deep breaths Darling.”

His deep grumble was almost lost under the loud blanket of rain echoing in the night. But luckily you hear him, taking a deep breath, steadying yourself on the rock. The tip of his cock rubbed against your soaked folds, before inching in slowly. The burn was pleasurable but still painful. But you couldn’t care at this moment. Another inch went in and the demon had to pace himself, screaming over and over in his mind not to just snap his hips, making you take his cock in one quick swoop. No, he needed patience, even though he was no patient creature. But he managed to find some, only for you. Once he was able to completely bottoming you out. You were both a panting and moaning mess. Your whines didn’t stop as he started to buck his hips in and out. In and out. Testing the waters, seeing what you could handle. And once he saw a green light, his grip on your hips tightened as he began to ruthlessly fuck you against the rough concrete.

Your screams caught the breeze, shattering through the heavy sound of rain. He had turned you around in one single movement need to to feel your body close to his. Your legs couldn’t even wrap fully around your lovers huge waist as he continued fuck you hard and quick.

“Fuck Darling. You feel so good. So tight. Taking my monster cock in such a small body. Good girl.” he snapped his hips with every word. “My. Good. Girl.”

It didn’t take you long for your band in your tummy to tighten. You were so close to the edge and you needed just a little extra. Just a little more. And The demon seemed to read your body like his favourite book, pinching your clit with his large fingers you whaled his name squirting all over his cock. “PLease fuck argh. Your cock is so good. Fuckkk.”

He growled like an animal, latching his sharp teeth on your soft shoulder, wrapping his muscular arms around your tiny human frame. He picked you up, fucking upwards in a new angle. Your body was like a rag doll, letting him fuck you in any position he seemed fit. His wings caged you, almost like he was protecting you while he also ruining you.

For a beast that seemed to only want to fuck, he cared so much about you. Without him ever saying it, he knew you were the love of his life and he was willing to die for you. Heck, he had already killed for you. And he could kill again if you asked. No matter what the code says about demons hurting humans. He would gladly serve an eternal sentence if it means hurting the ones who hurt you first.

“I’m gonna cum in this ruined cunt of you. Hmm, baby. You gonna take this demon seed?”

“Yes, yes. Please. Give it to me.” and with your soft submissive cries he came deep in your cunt. Filling your full. His come mixed with yours, spilling down his legs, before washing away on the wet floor. His cock slipped out of you but he did not let you down. No, he opened his wings and took off towards the castle without another world. He held you tightly as you watched the garden where he had just defiled you disappear into your view. He was taking you back to his den. The home he had to made for himself. Away from any human or beast's eye.

Were he could tend to you and make sure you were okay and possibly―Most definitely―fuck you some more.

-♥︎

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1800jjbarnes · 4 months

Text

◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟗: 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇

My Everything

【Synopsis】 : Rain was pouring, and your heart was aching. You didn't care what the villagers nor that priest thought about him. You loved him, and you were going to prove it.

『W.C』 : 2.14k

-> Genre: Smut. Fantasy. Demon Au

Paring: Gargoyle!Bucky x Human!Reader

[Warnings] : Public sex [in a garden] sex in the rain. Oral [both receiving] fingering, clit play. Cum play-ish. Making out. Swearing. Pet names. use of the name Soldat. allusion of Hydra in old timey lore. Demonic and religious concepts. Dirty talk. Cemie pie. Squirting.

I want to thank the original creator of this amazing universe and beautiful character's, @ilustrariane. Please check out their work! It's to die for. You can get there full 18+ E-book and its argh my happy place.

Masterlist | Kinktober List

“Soldat! Soldat where are you!!” You called in the blistering winds, repeating the fake name he gave you when you first met. You see, he was in fact a demon, just like the priest had screamed at you, but he was more. He was a gargoyle, one of Lilith's children, trapped, bound to the ruined castle just beyond the village. One of the priests from the before had managed to get his real name and trap him with a blood curse, locking him to only do the bidding of the said man. But now that Soldat was alone, he had no way to break the curse, living the rest of the days in the place he called home, imprisoned by sunlight. You had climbed stairs and rock structures to get up to one of the garden points in the castle, seeing where your lover usually lays, under a concrete arch, empty and bare. Where was he?

You called again but this time your voice got caught in your throat as a giant rumble crashed down to the earth's core. Soldat’s wings were spread wide, having landed only mere meters from you. His huge form was hunched over, his palms spread out on the wet pavement. He had tears in his cold eyes. “I told you to never come back! Why do you not listen.” his voice bellowed around you into the forestry beyond, having enough power to shake the trees.

“I can’t leave you Soldat. Please.” Your tears were covered by the heavy rain pour, your hair sticking to your red puffy face. You couldn’t just forget about him, not now that he had tainted you. He was yours and you, his. And you were going to fight for it, until your last breath.”Look at me!”

God, was it a sight to see.

“Fuck Darling. You feel so good. So tight. Taking my monster cock in such a small body. Good girl.” he snapped his hips with every word. “My. Good. Girl.”

“I’m gonna cum in this ruined cunt of you. Hmm, baby. You gonna take this demon seed?”

Were he could tend to you and make sure you were okay and possibly―Most definitely―fuck you some more.

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doc-pickles · 4 months

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waking up in vegas | matthew tkachuk x hughes!sister (pt.8)

series masterlist

summary: things between you and Matthew heat up… and not in a good way…

warnings: it’s about to get aaaaangsty

a/n: hehehe sorry not sorry. don’t forget my inbox is always open! enjoy!!

xoxo

nina

Matthew had just walked in from morning skate, hair still dripping from his shower as he leaned over the back of the couch to kiss your forehead, “How was practice?”

“Good, I think we’re ready for tonight,” Matthew smirked as he settled on the couch next to you, his hand coming down to cup your belly. “Whatcha working on?”

“Mmm trying to find a lawyer,” you barely looked up from your laptop as you spoke. “The one my dad recommended doesn’t specialize in divorce so now I’m trying to find one that isn’t a total sleazebag.”

There’s silence as you continue to type, but you stopped after a minute to look at Matthew. His face was... expressionless for lack of better words. Eyes trained on your belly he sat silently until he realized you were staring at him.

“That’s uh… Yeah,” Matthew cleared his throat and stood up, running a hand through his curls. “I’m gonna… Go for a run. I’ll be back later.”

You set your laptop aside and follow Matthew towards the door, “Matty, come on. I thought that’s what you wanted? All of this has just been-”

“Been what? A mistake? Is that what you were going to say,” Matthew turned and looked at you, your face blanching when you realized that was what you were going to say. “Thought so.”

“Matthew can we please talk about this,” you reached forward and grabbed his arm, stopping his movements. “That’s not what I meant, okay?”

“No, I get it, it’s fine,” Matthew pulled his arm away and continued toward the door. “I’ll be back later.”

Without another word Matthew walked out the door, leaving you speechless in the entryway of the house. The two of you had grown closer but you had assumed that he’d still wanted a divorce. You weren’t in love, being married didn’t make sense then did it?

You went through the motions of the rest of the day, taking a shower and getting ready for the Panthers game tonight. Matthew had texted and let you know that he went straight to the arena. You wanted to skip the game all together but they were playing the Devils tonight and your mom was going to meet you at the game. Standing in front of your closet you looked between your Devils jersey and the Panthers one you had been wearing for the past few games. With a sigh you reached past both for a black sweatshirt and left the house.

“My baby! Look at you, you’re glowing!”

Your mom’s sweet words helped to relieve some of the pain in your chest from your altercation with Matthew. She hugged you tightly and you held on a little longer than normal before you two headed to your seats. Both teams had just begun to warm up, the players slowly trickling onto the ice from the locker rooms.

“What’s wrong?” At your mother’s words you turned toward her, noting the frown across her face. “Normally you’d be talking my ear off and eating your weight in popcorn. Something is bothering you.”

“Matthew and I got into a fight this morning,” you sighed, knowing that keeping things from your mom never worked in your favor. “We’ve been getting closer since I moved out here but… I don’t know it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if you’re this upset about it, baby,” your mom planted a hand on your thigh, the touch comforting as you took a deep breath. “Whatever it is I’m sure you two can work it out.”

“I told him I was still looking for a divorce lawyer,” you blurted out. “And he got angry about that and left. And I… I don’t know what to do. We’ve been getting closer but it still feels like a marriage of convenience at this point. I mean if I wasn’t pregnant we’d be divorced by now.”

“But you are pregnant,” your mother pointed out as she squeezed your thigh. “And that changes everything. Matthew could want to stay married just for the baby, but I think that there’s something more there. But even if you did stay together for the baby, it wouldn’t be like you were shackled to some stranger. You’ve known him your whole life and deep down I think there’s attraction there on both your parts.”

You sighed, leaning your head against your mom’s shoulder as the lights in the arena began to dim. Leave it to Ellen Hughes to give you the exact advice you needed.

“Do you really think Matthew feels something for me?”

“I think it’s worth exploring,” your mom smirked as she pressed a kiss to your head.

The game started shortly after that and you were filled with a sense of hope about your future with Matthew. You’d obviously need to talk with him about everything, but your mom had encouraged you to take that step and see what lay ahead for the two, almost three, of you.

“Oh my god,” your mom gasped out next to you. You looked back to the ice where a fight had broken out. The benches were cleared as the Devils and Panthers went at it. You couldn’t see Matthew or your brothers, your heart clenching at the realization.

“What happened?”

The question was futile as the jumbotron displayed a playback of Luke taking a dirty hit from…

Oh no.

You watched in horror as Matthew dropped his gloves and socked Luke in the mouth. The two quickly fell to the ice, Jack joining in on the action before the rest of the team joined in as well.

With your mothers hand clutched tightly in yours you both watched as the swarm of players cleared and your brothers appeared again. Luke’s face was bloodied and he held his arm as he skated toward the tunnel. Jack followed him, bloody hands and disheveled hair the only sign he was involved. You didn’t even bother looking for Matthew as both you and your mother got up and rushed down to the visitors locker room.

You arrived home later than you’d anticipated, Matthew’s car already in the driveway. Jack’s hand had been fine if a little bruised, but Luke would be out for a week with a minor wrist sprain. After the events of the day you were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed, but fate had other plans for you.

“Baby,” Matthew stood from his spot on the couch as soon as you opened the door. “I’m so-“

“Matthew I really don’t want to get into this tonight,” your hurt had morphed into an anger that was sitting like a hot coal in your chest.

“Can we please just talk for a second,” Matthew pleaded as you hung your coat up and tied off your shoes. “I just want to talk about today, okay?”

You whirled around to face Matthew, tears pooling in your eyes, “You wanna talk? Fine, we’ll talk. I get that you were upset with me this morning but that’s no excuse for what you did to Luke.”

“I-“

“No Matthew! You don’t get to talk,” your voice was unrecognizable as you stared Matthew down, tears streaming down your cheeks and anger filling every word you spat at him. “You hurt Luke to hurt me and that’s crossing a line. If you want to be mad at me then fine be mad at me. Or maybe use your grown up words and come talk to me. But do not ever bring my brothers into this again or I will walk out that door so fast.”

Matthew nodded, watching you stomp up the stairs without attempting to follow you. When you got to the hallway you stood there for a second, looking between your room and Matthew’s room. You haven't slept in your room in months but tonight you needed the reprieve of putting space between you and Matthew.

You quickly change into your pajamas and lay in bed, all of the hope your mother had instilled in you earlier fading away as you laid in bed alone crying.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk fanfic #matthew tkachuk imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #hockey imagine #nina writes

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cheesesoda · 11 months

Text

I wish I was your boyfriend too.

rookie!leon x detective!reader

not my gif obvs^^^

genre: fluff fluff fluff

cw: drinking? not in a violent way or anything tho

summary: leon’s got a crush he is convinced is unrequited but after a night of drinking, he’s led to believe otherwise.

part 2 is out!! linked here

“alright rookie, and here is your desk.” chris sighs as he finishes the tour of the station. “thanks, officer redfield.” leon smiles. “just chris.” he replies. “chris.” leon echoes. “you’ll be partnered with an officer for the rest of the week so you can get into the groove of things. lucky you, you’re partnered with our head detective.” chris smirks. “ah, speak of the devil.” a woman with h/l h/c hair and deep e/c eyes approaches the two men. “l/n!” chris calls to her. oh fuck. please no. leon thinks to himself. she was so pretty, he wouldn’t be able to think or focus around her. please don’t let her be my guide. “hey chris,” she grins at the officer. “is this the new guy i’m showing around?” please don’t say yes please don’t say yes please don’t sa- “he sure is!” fuck. “i’m y/n l/n, head detective. nice to meet you…?” y/n trails off. “oh- uh- leon kennedy. nice to meet you too, miss l/n- i mean, detective l/n-“ he stammers but she just laughs. “y/n.” she says and he repeats her name again. the way it rolled off his tongue satisfied him.

a year later…

leon had been working at the RPD for a year now and it didn’t get much easier being around y/n. she was kind, brave, nurturing, and intelligent, but she made him so nervous. he liked her. he liked her a LOT. his heart fluttered when he’d think about her and the unlikely event that she felt the same for him. why would she though? he knew it was stupid to think she could ever like a dork like him. “hey, leon!” y/n called over to his desk. “wanna come get drinks tonight?” she asked. “oh- i probably shouldn’t-“ he said. “please?~ it’ll be fun!” she begs. how could he say no to that? “fine.” he grumbled. “yay! thanks, leon!” she cheered, wrapping her arms around him in a hug, accidentally rubbing his face in her boobs in the process (not that he minded).

later that night…

“shut up, chriz!” y/n slurred, giggling to herself. “another round, pleazeee!” she calls to the bartender. “i think you’ve had enough, y/n.” chris slurs, chuckling as well. “shh shh shhhhhhh!” she puts her fingers to her lips lazily. “how many have you had, y/n?” leon asks. “juzt a *hic* feeewwww!” she giggles. “try 7” jill retorts. “holy shit, you’re wasted.” leon says, shock evident on his face. the drinks arrive and before y/n can reach it, leon pushes it out of her reach. “leonnnnnn!” she pouts. “no, we should get you home.” he says. “ughhh! fiiine! bye guyzzzz!” she calls to the rest of the team as leon holds her up.

he hails a taxi and they both get in. they remain silent and he suddenly feels a weight on his shoulder. he looks over to see the detective taking a nap on his shoulder. he blushes but doesn’t move her.

when they finally reach her apartment complex, he helps her up to her apartment. he helps her open her front door and sits her down on her bed. as he’s taking off her heels for her, she lays down. he gets out some shorts and a shirt for her and lays them next to her. “change into these, y/n.” he says softly. “hehe okay, officer~” she sighs and begins to unzip her dress, letting it slink down her shoulders. he immediately turns around. “after i leave!” he stutters. she stands up and walks in front of him, now only left in her bra and underwear. “don’t you wanna see me naked though?” she pouts. he swears he is on the verge of exploding right there. “no!” he exclaims, covering his eyes. “you don’t wanna see me naked?” she says, her voice sounding betrayed. “n-no, i do!” he stammers. “oh~ you do?” her flirtatious voice rings. “no! i- i mean yes- i mean- fuck! i-“ he stutters and she laughs before walking away to put on the clothes. it takes her a while due to her drunken state. “done?” leon asks. “mmmhmm.” she confirms sleepily. he turns around and she’s still sitting on the bed, now in the shorts and shirt. “good night, y/n.” he says after he tucks her into bed. “thank you, leon.” she yawns. she looks so cute like this, he thinks to himself. “you’re so good to me.” she whispers, closing her eyes. his stomach flutters. “wish you were my boyfriend…” she sighs. oh. his face bursts into flames. when he doesn’t respond, she opens her eyes again and looks at him. “y’so sweet.” she caresses her hand against his cheek. “so respectful. so cute, with your fluffy hair and your cute lips.” she giggles and strokes her fingers on his lips. “i always wanna kiss ‘em.” she smiles. he cannot take this anymore. “you’re drunk.” he says. “no, m’not” she mumbles. “good night, y/n.” he says again, walking to the door. “g’night, leon. love you.” she mutters against her pillow. he closes her door when he leaves her room and sighs against it. that’s when he hears the thunder. he looks out the window to see pouring rain. fuck. surely she wouldn’t mind if he just crashed on her couch, right?

he lays on the couch and listens to the thunder and rain outside. a million thoughts roam his mind—all of them y/n. what the fuck was she saying? did she mean it? no, surely it was just the alcohol talking. but they do say drunk words are sober thoughts. all this thinking was hurting his head. he didn’t sleep much that night.

the next morning…

“leon?” y/n’s raspy morning voice fills his ears. what does he say to her now?

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy re2 #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy #chris redfield #leon kennedy x y/n

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sunlightmurdock · 1 year

Text

Here Kitty, Kitty | Firefighter Bradley Bradshaw (18+)

warnings: suggestive comments, borderline smut.

…

“Don’t you dare,” You hook your legs tighter around his hips, crossing your ankles, trapping him against you. The urgent knocking at the front door continues and Rooster lets out a particularly conflicted groan as you lift your head and kiss, wet and longing at his pulse point. Your hand slides along the thick, broad plain of his shoulder and around the nape of his neck, brushing over the short hair there. Squeezing at your new leverage point, your eyes meet his, darkened and oh, so serious.

He smiles at the look on your face.

“I’m serious, her cat gets stuck in that three three times a week — just stay here,” You graze your teeth slowly along the plush of your bottom lip, palm trailing downward, skimming along the taut muscles in his back. Pushing against the bed, you lift your bare chest up into his. Honey-coloured eyes flick quickly downwards, back to you just as quickly. “With me.”

Bradley clicks his tongue, giving your hips a firm squeeze. “Honey… she’s eighty-three years old.”

“And I’m naked,” You remind him, lifting your head to kiss his lips. He chases you back, pressing his body firm into yours, letting his hands skim tentatively upward. Soft, warm flesh under his fingertips. “And just desperate,” Another kiss, deeper this time, pressing the heel of your foot into the small of his back. The motion guides his hips forwards, his sweats grazing against your soaked core. “For a little alone time with my boyfriend.”

He groans again, letting his head fall forwards to rest against your naked chest. Kneeling between your legs on the comfort of your shared bed, his hands come up to knead at your breasts. He barely needs to turn his head before his mouth is on them, gracing each of them with a few gentle kisses. His moustache, his hands, the feeling of his full attention is something that is impossibly warm.

“Bradley? — are you home? Could you help me?” Her sweet, aged voice carries through the apartment with surprising ease. He lifts his head and meets your gaze again. You narrow your eyes at him, lips already tugging into a knowing frown. He keens forwards and leaves you with a chaste kiss, fingers curling around your calf and flipping you onto your front.

“Don’t move, I’ll be right back.” He promises, pressing his lips to the plump of your ass cheek, then tapping it with his open palm. He leaves you with that, still dressed in the gym clothes you had so hurriedly been trying to get him out of as he walks around to the front door, calling back. “Don’t get dressed!”

He adjusts his sweats, tugs open the door and smiles politely.

“What was that?” Mrs. Houseman asks softly, brows knitting together in concern.

“Stressed. Just telling her not to get stressed — you know how hard she works,” Bradley steps out and swings the door shut behind him, “Anyway, how’s Felix?”

Mrs. Houseman lives on the same floor, she’s a sweet old lady that always sweeps your doorstep and brings you baked goods. But she’s got an orange kitten that might just be half Tasmanian devil, and maybe a little crush on your boyfriend. She’s always telling you what a good boy he is, that he reminds her of her husband. It’s sweet.

Just, not when it leaves you hanging like this. He’s back just as quickly as he had promised to be, Felix safely bundled into his owner’s arms and her promising to keep him inside from now on.

You glance up at him, silent as he closes the front door behind him.

“No,” Rooster grumbles immediately, frowning at you. You’re standing by the kitchen counter, fixing yourself a hot drink — clothed. “I said not to get-“

He stops talking as he rounds the counter, eyes landing on your pleasantly naked legs. His lips quirk just slightly as you turn and lift yourself up onto the countertop.

Parting your legs slowly, he stalks towards you, already tugging his t-shirt over his head and letting it fall to the kitchen floor. His adam’s apple bobs, eyes trained in on your still naked core.

“Think you owe me a little something.” You tease him, bracing your palms on either side of you, parting your knees further. He steps between them with a grin, kissing you.

“Yes, ma’am.”

A giggle bubbles out of your mouth as he beams before you, then lowers himself to his knees without complaint. Swiftly, without struggle, he tugs you to the edge of the countertop and presses his open mouth to the apex of your thighs.

…

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #firefighter!bradley

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photo1030 · 2 months

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Leather and Lace - Chapter 21: Because You’re Mine, I Walk the Line

Summary: Arthur treats you to a stay in a hotel in the new town and promises to be on his best behavior.

Warnings: 18+ please. Minors - DNI; NSFW

*This beautiful moodboard is graciously provided by @namesaretomainstream

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

The gang has proceeded to move south to a secure area outside of a town called Blackwater. Winter will be upon the region soon and hopefully it will be a bit warmer by moving away from the mountains. The gang as a whole has not been in this area before, although Hosea worked a few jobs around here many years ago. Arthur and John went on ahead to scout while the rest of you pack up the camp.

The brothers have been gone for over a week before they meet you all along the trail to lead you to where they deem safe and out of the way. At first, you cringed a bit at the thought of Arthur and John being alone together for any extended period of time without any sort of buffer between them. They’ve been arguing a lot lately. While John has been trying to make an attempt at making his relationship with Abigail and Jack work (albeit a sometimes feeble attempt), Arthur is still quick to be irritable and impatient with him. You have to bite your tongue to refrain from reminding Arthur that he himself had a hard time coping with fatherhood when it was first thrust upon him. That is certainly a fight that you just do not want to have with him.

But on a positive note, the whole camp is excited with the new opportunity. A new area means new towns, new people, new goods available. And new jobs. But with that also comes more attention. The pressure of the local law is constantly present upon the gang and seemingly increasing of late. But Dutch seems to think he can continue to stay one step ahead. It’s a good thing for everyone that the Devil himself doesn’t have the confidence that Dutch Van Der Linde has. Otherwise the entire world and heaven above would be in trouble.

After getting everything settled with the new camp, Arthur decides that it’s time to pamper you a little. While out scouting the nearest little town he gets the idea to treat you to a stay at the local hotel for a hot bath, a real bed, and some private time alone for just the two of you. The town of Trimble is new and quaint. When Arthur tells you that he’s already told Dutch that the two of you will be out of camp for the next few days, your squeal of excitement is reward enough.

You are so looking forward to being alone in a hotel with Arthur for the first time. To be away from the prying eyes of camp and to not be interrupted every five minutes for one thing or another.

It's cloudy and overcast the morning that you are to leave. Although the temperature is brisk, you are warm with excitement. You are sure to clean yourself up and fix your hair to look pretty. You want everything to be perfect. You've always been a bit self-conscious of your appearance, but you’ve always managed to put yourself together well. Corsets help, of course. The belief has always been that if you were done up with curled hair and a bit of rouge on your cheeks, it would distract from the way your curves are hidden within a pretty dress. As you stand in your tent and finish pulling at the lavender-colored cotton of your sleeves, you hear a slow whistle behind you.

“Look at you! Pretty like a meadow flower. Ain’t I a lucky man.” Looking over your shoulder, Arthur stands at the opening of your shared tent, one arm slung up to hang from the top of the tent support pole, the other hand tucked lazily into his belt. A grin of approval sits upon his handsome face as his eyes float up and down over your frame.

“Why, thank you,” you giggle, blushing slightly. “Don’t forget to give yourself time to clean up, too, before we go.”

“What?” His face quickly turns to a pout like a confused child.

“Hey, I spent a lot of time getting myself put together for you,” you playfully scold him. Arthur’s eyes follow your nimble fingers as they adjust the delicate earring you are popping into your ear. Thoughts of his teeth nibbling on that same earlobe last night skitter distractedly through his mind.

“That’s your own fault,” he teases, refocusing on the conversation at hand. “I think you look perfect the way you were.”

Oh, how your heart does a somersault at his genuine flattery. No one has ever spoken to you the way that Arthur does. “I’m sure you do. But listen, I want to look nice for you, okay? And, besides, I can’t be the only good-looking one walking around.”

“Sweetheart, that’s going to be the case regardless of what I manage to put together with this.” He waves at himself dismissively. You take notice of the dried mud stains on his faded brown shirt and vest and make a mental note that his threadbare jacket needs mending yet again.

“Shut it, that’s my man you’re talking about.” You shoot Arthur an impish glare as you walk over to him, placing your hand along his ribs. “Now wash yourself up or I’ll be forced to do it for you.” You grab his chin and pull him down for a quick peck on the lips.

Arthur playfully raises an eyebrow at you. “You flirtin’ with me already?”

Your laugh carries through the air as you walk past him out of the tent and head over to where Mary-Beth and Tilly sit. They promised to help you set your hair before you leave.

He grumbles about it, but Arthur concedes to the task, knowing how excited you are for your little holiday. He washes his face in the basin you set out for him in the tent, noting how the dirty water runs over his fingers and cringes at how you were right as usual. He even goes so far as to shave for you. Not too clean, but keeping the beard stubble to the length that you prefer. He wipes his chin with his shaving towel, observing you as you flit about the camp, preparing for your departure. You are absolutely giddy, giggling and whispering with the other girls as they offer to help you primp and prepare for your romantic stay. He smiles to himself, glad that he made that decision to get you out for a bit.

Arthur feels as if he’s finally met his match with you, the one person who is brave enough to love him as he is, and strong enough to handle all of him, even the broken parts. You’ve made it very clear that you don’t want the world, you just want to feel safe and secure in his world. You have made him that one promise that he’s ever needed to hear in his life and that is to never give up on him. And he wants to do whatever he can to make that an easier choice for you.

As you pack your saddle bags and get the horses ready for the ride, Hosea strides over to give the two of you a quick reminder to behave and be mindful. The gang is new to the area and still getting its bearings. You all need to lay low until you know what you’re dealing with.

“Now remember, no fighting. No stealing. No riots. I don’t need to be making a house-call to the local jailhouse to bail you out so soon.” As he speaks, you watch the smoke rise from Hosea’s cigarette and circle his head like a crown, his eyes squinting slightly at the burn.

“We’ll be fine.” Arthur rolls his eyes dismissively at the older man as he finishes tying up Buck’s saddle.

“I’m talkin’ about you specifically,” Hosea stresses, poking his finger into Arthur’s chest. “I’m not worried about Y/N acting like a fool.”

“Calm down. I’ll have her along with me.” Arthur waves his hand towards you. “She’ll keep me straight and make me tow the line.”

“I hope so. But you’re also a bull in a china shop when it comes to her.” Hosea tips his head in your direction. “Just keep your head about you, would you?”

“I got this, ‘sea.” You flash a smile and give the man a kiss on the cheek right below his graying temple. “I’ll make sure Arthur stays in line.”

Hosea’s scowl at Arthur turns to a loving grin at you. “I’m sure you will, my dear. Because you’re the only one with any damn sense around here.” He affectionately pats your hand.

“Hey!” whines Arthur, defensively. Hosea waves him off, giving one last “be careful”, and walks back towards his chair. Arthur turns back to you and swats your arm. “Kiss-ass.”

You can only roll your eyes with a short laugh as you finish packing Blue’s saddlebags.

————————————

The ride to Trimble doesn’t take too long, only about thirty minutes on horseback. The sun is still fighting to break the clouds and the wind kicks up, churning the last remnants of fall leaves on the ground at your horses’ feet. It’s late morning by the time you arrive and the townspeople are already bustling about. Arthur was right, the town is quaint and charming.

As you lead your horses down the street, you look up excitedly at the approaching hotel sign. The two of you get your horses hitched to the post outside just as an idea comes to you and you search the street to see what is around.

You point at the general store which is a couple of doors down. “Before we head to the room, I want to make a quick stop.”

“For what?” asks Arthur as he follows you next door, his gaze lingering on the hotel instead. He is anxious to get to your room and begin your stay together.

“I want to get a few things. Some food, things like that.”

“They have food at the hotel, you know,” he huffs. You can hear Arthur’s boots scrape against the wood of the boardwalk behind you as he slightly drags his feet, reluctant to be side-tracked with any errands.

Pausing just outside the door of the store, you turn with a smirk. You press yourself up against him, purposely pushing your cleavage against his hard chest. “I don’t know about you, but I have no intention of even being dressed, let alone leaving that room for the next two days, mister.”

Arthur’s eyes roll shut, head tilting back for a moment with a groan at the very thought of being blissfully naked for two full days. When he looks down into your beautiful face again, his sapphire eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Woman, I’m gonna make you sing like the angel you are,” he growls out.

“Such things you say, Mr. Morgan,” you purr back with the most unladylike smile.

“I’m trying my best to be a gentleman right now, Y/N. But if you keep lookin’ at me like that with the devil in your eye…we’re fucking on the closest thing I can find to bend you over on.”

Your legs actually quiver at the thought. You know you shouldn’t be excited by such vulgarity. But then again, you can’t help but be tempted to tease this theory of his as he leans over you so close that you can feel the heat beginning to radiate off of him, even in the chilly air.

“I have to warn you, Arthur, I may scratch and I may bite.” Your fingertip runs down his cheek and along his jawline.

“You’ll crawl and beg, too, when I’m done with you,” he promises.

A sultry giggle erupts from your lips as you reach up to place a short, yet heated kiss upon his plump lips. Arthur then dips in closer to place a quick love bite along your neck, drawing a quick little yelp from you.

Your focus is broken when you hear an annoyed tsk from somewhere next to you and you catch the disapproving glances from an older couple who are passing along on the street. You quickly clear your throat, tapping Arthur’s shoulder to indicate that he needs to stop this little scene. You blush, hiding your face into your hands, and lean into his chest with an embarrassed little groan.

“C’mon” chuckles Arthur as he places a kiss to the top of your head, “Let’s get this little errand of yours done so we can get started. Looks like we’re on borrowed time.”

It is a quick shopping trip inside the store for you. The little shop is kept neat and well-stocked, with natural light pouring in through the windows along the front. Dried herbs and woven baskets hang from the ceiling and barrels of various items line the walls. The store has everything from grains to produce, from ropes and hammers to books and socks.

Arthur leans against the sales counter as you walk about the store to grab a few things, such as some fruit, dried meats, a loaf of bread, a small brick of cheese and a bottle of cheap wine. In and out within a few minutes and then you and Arthur head back towards the hotel.

Walking into the establishment, it is warm and cheerful. It is a fairly large open area with the front desk centered along the back wall. To the left is what seems to be a small restaurant-cafe with a mixture of aromas drifting through the enclosed space, and to the right is a sitting room where some of the guests are playing checkers while sipping on coffee. The woodwork is white-washed and simple paintings adorn the walls.

Behind the desk is a short, plump woman, looking to be about in her 50’s. Her hair is pulled back into a bun, with streaks of gray ribboning through it. She sets down the book she is reading and peers over her spectacles when she hears the bell above the door ring as you and Arthur come through the threshold.

“Afternoon, folks,” she greets you with a wide, toothy smile. “What can I do for you?”

Arthur strides up to the desk, placing his hands upon the smoothly painted wood. “The lady and I need a room. We’ve been on the road for a bit, so we’d like some privacy, if you don’t mind,” he stresses. “Peace and quiet, that sort of thing.” He fills out the ledger she pushes towards him on the counter.

“Of course, Mr…Callahan.” She nods as she reads the name scrawled in his handwriting. “Well, I have the room at the far end of the hall that’s empty. No one else on that side.” She points up the stairs and to the right. “It’s the smallest room I got, but it’s going to be the quietest.”

“We don’t need big. We need private,” Arthur says, rather short and curt in his demeanor and the woman gives him a curious look.

“Newly weds”, you quickly interject as if answering the woman’s unasked question with a radiant smile on your lips as your nose wrinkles with excitement. You lace your arms around Arthur’s as you lay your head against his shoulder, playing up the act. Arthur looks over at you with a smirk.

“Oh!” She smiles back. “How sweet.” But her face drops a bit when she looks at your hand. She looks puzzled as you follow her gaze.

“I don’t wear my ring when we travel.” You flutter your fingers for emphasis. “A lot of questionable folks in this area. You understand.”

She smiles again and nods. “Of course. I don’t blame you, Miss. Enjoy your stay.” She slides the room key to Arthur, pointing in the general direction you need to head. You both thank her for her kindness and quickly make for the staircase to head upstairs.

As you walk down the hallway, Arthur leans down to your ear. “‘Questionable folks’? If only she knew.”

“Shh! Don’t worry about that now,” your voice floats with a wispy tone. “We’re not outlaws for the next two days. We’re just-“

“Newly weds.” He smiles down at you.

“That’s right. Newly weds.” You grin ear to ear back at him. “And I think we have some ‘consummating’ to do.”

You come to the end of the hall, arriving at Number 6. Twisting the key into the slightly stubborn iron lock, Arthur pushes the door open for you. You step into the room and survey your temporary lodging. Your mouth gapes slightly, your eyes sparkling with anticipation. It's adorable.

The room is in fact small, but offers enough space to move about comfortably. It’s painted a simple white, bright and airy, to match the lobby with little pitchers of dried flowers on the one small table in the room and on the one dresser that is available. White eyelet curtains swag across the two small windows that flank the bed that sits in the middle of the wall. A beautiful mauve comforter adorns the mattress with a metal frame securing it. You smile wickedly as you have plans for that headboard.

Arthur steps in behind you as he closes the door and heads over to the small fireplace to get a fire going. You set your few things on the small table and make your way to the bed. Your hand runs along the soft bedding, gliding along the surface as if trailing your fingertips through water. It’s been awhile since you've experienced such finery, such as it is. Slowly lowering yourself down onto the bed, you lay backwards, letting the muscles of your back unknot themselves as you take a deep calming breath. The feeling of the fluffy quilt envelops you as if you are floating on a cloud as you sink back, the scent of clean linen wafting in the air.

“Oh, I almost forgot what a real bed feels like.” A deep and lazy sigh exhales from your chest, making the bodice of your dress float. When you open your eyes, you see Arthur watching you intently. “Are you going to join me?”

Arthur’s only answer is a grin as he proceeds to take off his gun belt, laying it across the table next to your bags with a slight thud and strides over to you, his vivid eyes shining. As he approaches the bed, you roll to sit up on your knees, wrapping your arms around his neck with a giggle and sweetly kiss him. His large, warm hands settle on your hips, pulling you closer to him as he smiles into your mouth in return. Suddenly, you stop, pulling back to look at him.

“Do you hear that?” you whisper.

Startled, Arthur’s eyes narrow as he tries to listen. His body stiffens slightly as a defensive reflex.

“Silence”, you breathe even lower. “There’s no one. No Dutch. No Susan. No Sean. And -” you pause for emphasis- “no Micah. Just you and me.” Your eyes gleam ecstatically as you collect his face into your gentle hands.

A huge smile slowly blooms across Arthur’s face as reality has fully hit him now. ‘Just you and me.’ It’s a beautiful little sentiment, isn’t it?

“Well, let’s not waste a single minute of it, then,” he says. He gently forces you back down to the bed as he lays himself over top of you. You giggle as your arms wrap around Arthur’s shoulders, pulling him to you. After a few tender moments of soft kisses, Arthur rolls to lay along your side and his hand splays across your stomach, sliding down to knead the tender skin there. You rotate your hips to press against him, your leg coming up to slot with his. When your hand comes to rest over his heart, Arthur places his own over top of it, holding it there.

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to get lost in your own little universe. Arthur’s hands begin to move faster, just as his lips do. The kisses become more passionate, the moaning and heavy breathing escalates. Grasping and pinching takes hold of your extremities.

The world outside the walls of this tiny rented room ceases to exist and fades away. The only things that matter are you and Arthur. You do not hear the horses and chatter from the street below. You do not smell the dinner being prepared in the kitchen of the hotel. You can only feel the soft bed beneath you and the hot skin of the person you are entwined with. And you only see the loving face that hovers in front of you.

Arthur suddenly stands up to unbutton his shirt and pull his trousers off. While he is occupied, you quickly whip off your blouse and your underclothes along with it. You grab a hold of the strings of your skirt when he abruptly stops you.

“Hold on,” Arthur murmurs, holding his hand out over your fingers. He gets that lustful look in his eyes that you know all too well. “Do it real slow-like. I don’t want to miss a thing.”

Your eyelashes flutter as a crimson-blush floats across the apple of your cheeks. But you oblige, of course, coyly pulling at the strings, your fingers daintily raised in emphasis.

Once the skirt is gone, Arthur tenderly reaches down and lifts your legs one at a time to take off your boots, leaving each foot resting on his abdomen. You curl your toes and flirtatiously extend your legs up to hook them under the collar of his union suit. Deftly using your feet, you push the sides of the fabric down over his muscled arms to expose his chest and effectively spread your legs wide for him in the process.

He pauses at the sight, eyes dark and carnal. He swallows thickly before he even attempts to speak. “Just be warned, I’m about to break you in half, woman.” His fingers trail over your calves in anticipation.

You smile mischievously and run your foot along the front of his thigh. “Oh, I surely hope so, mister. I was counting on it.”

The way Arthur makes you feel about yourself is unparalleled. He makes you feel beautiful and loved. Never in your life have you ever felt so wanted and desired. He is a man who has little in this tumultuous world so he values the things that he does have. And the idea that Arthur treasures you above all things sets your heart to flutter. He is strong and unyielding. And yet, you, simply you, have captured his heart to hold him hostage. While you calm his restless soul, he in turn makes you feel vibrant and alive.

Before you can say or do anything more, Arthur grabs your legs, yanking you closer to him as a squeal escapes from your lips until your rear sits at the edge of the bed. He kneels down in front of you, tossing your legs over his broad shoulders as your thighs slowly fall open for him.

Arthur cradles your leg to him as he places languid kisses along your plush limbs. Starting from your knee, his hot tongue darts in and out as his lips travel along the soft skin to your plump thighs, creeping his way towards your heat. He moves agonizingly slow, but the sheer feeling of it makes time stand still.

You sit up on your elbows and watch him work, delighted in how much he revels in the experience. Arthur fully plans on indulging himself and taking complete advantage of the situation. No interruptions, no nosy eyes and ears. The comfort and warmth of a proper shelter lending to the tender atmosphere. Arthur will covet every little thing and every single moment that he has with you for the next two days.

His strong hands float across the skin of your thighs to meet where his mouth is, coming together at the apex between your legs. Your breath hitches as his thick fingertips gently graze over the tender folds of skin. Your mouth gapes slightly at the incredible sensation. Arthur’s head tilts slightly to the side as he assesses the treasure before him. A quick look up to catch your loving gaze before he dips down, his tongue dragging along the slit of your heat. Your eyes instantly flutter with a staggered breath ghosting from your lips. He begins to wag his tongue back and forth, basking in your taste. Before long, he slides his finger up along the skin, sliding in and out, covered in your wetness.

The two techniques in conjunction cause you to moan loudly. Your head falls back between your shoulder blades causing your breasts to angle up higher for his viewing pleasure. But you bite your lip to try to stifle yourself out of habit, afraid someone will hear.

“Go ahead and make all the pretty little noises you want, Darlin’. Ain’t no one gonna hear ya,” Arthur smirks. He runs his palm over your mound, gently massaging the flesh there.

“We’re not alone in this building, you know,” you pant, trying to catch your breath already. “Someone will eventually hear.”

“No one I care about.” He gives you that wicked wink.

You shoot him a kittenish look as he sets about his work again as if determined to prove his point. His mouth works you over with more force this time, completely encompassing your heat, as a second thick finger is added. Your arms give out as you drop to the mattress. You mewl and moan as you completely give in, and the sounds coming from your panting mouth only encourage Arthur to go faster and deeper. He tightly wraps his arm around your leg, pulling your hips open even more to give him access to your core. His tongue flicks over that sensitive bud, sucking and releasing while his fingers push and retract, curling as they move along the velvety walls inside you.

The muscles in your abdomen tighten as your orgasm explodes within you. You practically scream as your hands fist the blanket under you until your knuckles turn white, your whole body spasming under Arthur’s arms as he holds you in place. But instead of leaving you spent, it makes you crave even more.

“Arthur?” Your voice is breathless and shaky.

“Hmm?” He asks smugly, going back to leaving slow kisses along your thighs again. The feeling of his beard prickling your sensitive skin makes you shudder.

“I’m positive that this is only the beginning of what you have in mind. So whatever you’re going to do next, you had better get started. Because I can’t wait much longer to feel you inside me properly.”

His eyes meet your half-lidded ones, which are lust-drunk and captivating. “You got me wrapped around your pretty little fingers, you know that?”

“You got it all wrong, my love. It’s gonna be me wrapped around you. Now get over here.” You lift your leg to use it to pull him up to you.

The little term of endearment melts his heart and Arthur quickly stands to pull off the rest of his clothing in a hurry before he climbs over you, the muscles of his back rippling as he hurriedly moves to meet your lips. Your hands greedily run into his hair and then fan-out over his broad shoulders. Your legs wrap around his lower half as he sinks down over you. You can feel his hard cock rub against you and you groan into his mouth. He’s hard as a rock, his tip hot to the touch. God, you want him so badly right now. You impatiently reach between you to wrap your soft hand around his member, pumping and stroking him and he hisses in your ear in response, biting on your neck.

Arthur sits up on the bed, resting back on his heels so that he can get a full view of you. Your body writhes lying beneath him, your arms extended to run your hands along his thick thighs and across his lower abdomen. The tips of your fingers trail through the hair that makes its way towards the “v” of his groin.

Arthur teases your opening with his cock, watching as your eyes roll back. Once he’s graced the entrance, he grabs your knees and pushes his hips forward, sliding himself into your warm cunt. You clench around him as if to trap him inside of you, never to let him leave. He is entranced by the way your back arches backwards, practically bent in half, as he pushes inch by heavenly inch, in order to achieve the greatest reach.

“C’mon, baby, dance for me,” he utters.

Arthur studies the beauty of your eyes as he begins to thrust into you. He knows every line of your face from watching you from afar and viewing you up close. Leaning over you, he caresses your cheek. You close your eyes and lean into his calloused hand even more. He cherishes you as he holds your face in his palm. You are totally, and absolutely, his. Sighing deeply with such affection, he gathers your hair in his fist, sliding his fingers back into your locks to pull your head back.

At one point, you try to push him over to take control, but he isn’t having it. Arthur is too lost in his own lust to give up control now. When he feels you push against his chest, he collects your wrists into his much larger hand to pin them over your head into the mattress. He grabs your leg and hooks his powerful arm under it to keep you exactly where he wants you as his thrusts pick up speed and force.

Up until now, you and Arthur have been heated, but nothing like this. He looks down at you, taken in at how you need him just as much as he needs you. He is speechless and suddenly greedy for more. He suddenly pulls himself out of you, and you gasp in disappointment at the sudden emptiness. Your eyes shoot wide open, eyebrows furrowed and questioning his motives. But he acts quickly. Arthur’s hands wrap around your sides as he abruptly flips you over on the mattress and pulls you up on all fours by your hips.

He reaches around and rakes his fingers over your heat, gathering some of your wetness to lubricate himself. Taking himself in hand, Arthur places his throbbing tip against your heat again, but this time from behind, rubbing back and forth to nestle between the sensitive folds. The mewl that drops from your lips is both animalistic and divine as your eyes screw shut as you take him again. He pushes himself into you, a loud grunt of his own filling the air.

You’ve never done it like this before. This was something you’ve heard whispered but never experienced yourself.

With this angle, Arthur’s cock drags along the roof of your cunt, dragging across nerves that are being teased in a whole new way. The upward diagonal direction of his grinding feels different, yet exponentially amazing. He’s trying to be mindful to see if you are okay with this new “experiment”, not wanting to cross a line, but he quickly loses himself. His head is spinning and he shoves himself into you, hips snapping sharply.

Stars begin to cloud your vision as your senses become overwhelmed. You feel him everywhere, inside you and all around you. You feel as if you could burst into flames right now. You’re not sure where your head is at, probably lost in oblivion, but you turn your chin to your shoulder. And watching Arthur’s face contorted in pleasure sets you off on a whole new level of desire. In a surprising act of boldness, with a breathy little whimper, you simply mutter the word “harder”.

Silly girl that you are.

Recognition flashes in Arthur’s eyes as his fingertips dig into your hips. There’s a quick smack to your ass-cheek as if sending his horse into a gallop and he’s off.

Arthur begins to pound into you relentlessly now, knowing that you are enjoying this as much as he is, sending your skin shuttering with each blow. He begins to grunt loudly as his hips snap at an increasingly faster pace. You can feel the bed itself shifting under you from his force.

With the unabated jarring of his pelvis, you lose your balance and your arms give out. Your forehead drops, digging into your forearms, but it also raises your hips even more, adding to the heavenly sensation.

Arthur eventually wraps his arm under your rib cage and pulls you up to hold you against his broad chest. The burly arm wraps around your shoulders while the other snakes down your front to fondle the delicate skin of your heat again. His mouth latches onto your neck, his forehead digging into your temple. In an attempt to grasp onto something to anchor yourself to this planet, your own arm reaches behind you to wrap around behind Arthur’s head, your fingers clenching the thick waves of sandy-blonde hair as you cry out his name. It always sends him into a heated frenzy to hear you say his name laced with such wanton desire. Sometimes, you’ll even simply whisper his name into his ear when you are just sitting by the fire, innocently nestled in his lap.

The air is filled with the scent of sweat, leather, and cigarette smoke, coupled with the rose-water you washed your hair with. Your moaning and Arthur's lustful grunts echo loudly within the small space, the sound bouncing off of the walls like a sinful orchestra.

Arthur’s powerful arms wrap around you like a large jungle snake, restrictive and making it hard to catch your breath. He holds you as if afraid to let go, afraid that you could be taken from him. Or worse yet, leave of your own accord. This whole thing is still so new to him. As wonderful as you are, there is still that sliver, that crack in his black, broken heart, that this is all too good to be true. He is still waiting for that hammer to fall and crush his fragile dream. And yet still, Arthur keeps barreling forward with his cock buried inside of you, hips bucking, until your head snaps back with your second orgasm.

Once you’re spent, your body goes limp in Arthur’s arms. His own pace sputters as he reaches his own climax shortly after you and he pulls himself out to finish on the back of your legs.

Panting heavily, you are lightheaded and collapse onto the bed under you, thankful for the cushioning that catches you.

Arthur slowly leans over you as his chest tries to recapture air into his lungs. His hands rest on either side of your body, allowing his forehead to rest between your shoulder blades. Eventually you can feel his lips leaving soft little kisses along your back.

“Good Lord, Arthur,” you chuckle, you back arching like a cat in response to his lips scattering across your skin.

“I did warn you.”

“That you did.” A satisfied hum leaves your trembling lips as you flip back over and catch him between your legs, trapping him between your thighs. His face and chest glisten with a thin sheen of sweat, even in the chilled room. “Just remember, Arthur, payback is a bitch.” And the look of absolute adoration fills his eyes at your statement.

You find the energy to sit up, propping yourself up on one elbow with the other arm slung around his shoulders. Foreheads affectionately touch together while you both catch your breath. You pepper Arthur’s face with kisses, causing the most adorable chuckle to spring from his mouth.

“This was such a good idea,” you sigh.

“Probably one of my better ones, for sure,” he agrees.

“You realize this is where we live now, right?”

“If only that were true.” Arthur gives you a sweet but sad smile before nudging your nose with his. You’ve noticed that it’s a gesture of affection that he often does with you, one that you know is meant to say ‘I love you’ without having to say it out loud.

“Well, then let’s make the most of the time we have,” you whisper. You gently pull him over you like a blanket, wrapping your arms and legs around him, your lips pressed to his. He sinks into you again with pleasure.

You spend the rest of the evening lying naked upon the bed, staring into each other’s eyes. You talk about different things, snickering and laughing, and just simply enjoy each other’s presence. You make love two more times before falling blissfully asleep in each other’s arms at some point into the very-early morning while the stars still shine in the sky, completely exhausted.

The next morning, as the sun needles its way into your windows, you roll over and bury your face into your billowy pillow. It was a late night and the idea of sleeping-in with no one hollering for you to begin work is so satisfying. You stretch your legs, wiggling a bit into the sheets and blankets. The fabric is soft wrapped around your bare body.

When Arthur’s arm enfolds you from behind, pulling you back and tucking you against him, you begin to smile softly. His much larger frame presses against the entire length of yours, making you feel safe and comforted. If heaven on Earth exists, it is right here in this tiny room, nestled quietly within this little hotel.

And it is in this blissful moment that the overwhelming realization washes over you. That there is so much more to life than simply surviving it. There is Arthur. There’s the two of you, planning and building a life together.

—---------------------------------------

After a day and a half of being holed-up in the hotel room, you and Arthur decide to head out to the saloon for a change of scenery. The fresh air and sunlight will do you both some good.

The last several hours have been spent alternating passionate love-making and catching up on much-needed rest, with Arthur taking some time to work in his journal while you relaxed and read a new novel that Mary-Beth loaned you.

You take your time in getting dressed, with no urgency to be anywhere. You have to keep swatting Arthur’s hand away when he keeps trying to undo the strings of your clothing the minute you have them tied. But eventually, you manage to get yourselves together and head downstairs.

The same woman who checked you in yesterday is sweeping the floor of the lobby and upon hearing footsteps from above, she looks up. But when she recognizes who is coming down, she shyly avoids eye contact, her face red as she sees the two of you descend the stairs. She goes back to her task, dragging the broom across the floorboards at a faster pace to avoid any awkward conversations. At first you don’t understand the behavior, but it quickly dawns on you that she must have heard your amorous activities last night.

“Whoops,” you whisper to yourself under your breath, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as you walk through the lobby.

“Huh?” Arthur looks at you confused.

“Nevermind, just keep walking,” you chuckle, grabbing his arm and pushing him ahead of you and out the front door.

The saloon isn’t too far down, just about a five minute walk. With your arm linked with Arthur’s, you walk into the bar and look around excitedly. Arthur, however, is immediately on high-alert. He notices several heads turn upon your entrance, not to watch him for once, but to curiously eye-up the woman beside him. You are radiant. Your eyes are bright and cheeks flushed with color. You have a natural glow about you due to the past thirty-six hours in your hotel room.

Naturally you don’t notice the lingering eyes of the drunken patrons, but Arthur certainly does. He stiffens a bit in reaction to the gawking stares. But as soon as you wrap your arms around his bicep and lean in to whisper something in his ear, everyone knows who’s arm you’ll be on tonight.

Arthur knows it’s selfish, but for once, he is the envy of everyone. And his chest proudly puffs out a bit as he escorts you with a swagger in his step through the room to a table.

A waitress brings you and Arthur drinks and you sit comfortably in the corner, nuzzling up on each other, minding your own business. But it doesn’t take long for your privacy to be intruded upon.

“Hey, Arthur! Y/N!” You hear John’s raspy voice cut through the noise of the saloon. Looking up, you see him and Abigail making their way to your table. “See? Told you they’d be here,” he says to Abigail.

You and Arthur are a bit speechless at first, not expecting to see anyone you know tonight. “What are you two doin’ here?” Arthur asks.

“Needed to get Abigail out of camp before she plants a knife in someone,” snickers John as he pulls a chair out for the woman to sit before pulling out a second one for himself and tossing his lean leg over it to settle in next to her.

“Damn idiots, being stupid!” she hisses as she plunks down onto the hard wooden chair. You nod in acknowledgement with a sigh, as you completely understand Abigail’s frustration. And although you are disappointed that your time with Arthur is being interrupted, you are happy to see that John and Abigail are trying to spend a little time together, too and you all proceed to have a drink together.

And soon enough, the doors swing open and in walks Sean, Karen, Lenny, and Charles as well.

Arthur’s head turns when he sees them and you are quick to catch his groan and eye-roll. “Damn it,” he mutters under his breath.

With a sigh of resignation, you lean your shoulder into his. “I suppose you’re right, you could never leave the gang and go off on your own. Everywhere you go, they follow.” You nudge your chin in their direction with a slight laugh.

“Oh no, don’t blame me on this. They follow you around just as much as me now,” he teases. “And besides, it’s ‘we’ - we couldn’t go off on our own. It’s you and me, remember?”

“That’s right.” You smile brightly and lift your beer bottle to clink to his in a toast.

“Ah, well would ya look who it is!” exclaims Sean as he wraps his arm around Karen’s shoulders and saunters over to your corner to join the four of you. And before you know it, Lenny and Charles grab a nearby table, dragging it closer to yours and the lot of you settle in for a good time.

The night carries on, with singing, dancing and many drinks to be passed amongst your friends. Lively music fills the air as the amber glow of the oil lamps begins to push back against the encroaching shadows of the setting sun. And all the while, you sit in the corner curled up to Arthur all night.

Abigail observes the two of you together throughout the evening and smiles to herself. She notices that it is the subtle things about the two of you that are so endearing. Arthur comes up behind you, his arm gliding around your waist as you lean back into him. Occasionally his head lowers closer to your cheek and you turn upward, your hand coming up to cup his face as you smile at him. Arthur doesn’t possessively plant kisses all over you in public, but just the slightest turn of his lips towards your temple as you speak. Or it’s his hand on the small of your back as you walk about. Even when he simply pulls your chair out and holds your arm to help you to sit, it is the simplest of loving actions that stand out.

Abigail’s smile widens as her chin sits in her hand. She is so happy for you both, but especially Arthur. He’s been through so much and has been so lonely for so long. She marvels at how different Arthur is now, at how time has changed him. John tries to show his affection in his own way, but nothing as soft and romantic as Arthur. Ironic how Arthur is the larger, more brutish of the two men, yet he is actually the softer of them.

Noticing that more drinks are needed, you head over to the bar to secure another round for your group. You lean on the wooden surface, patiently waiting for the barkeep’s attention when you sense a presence out of the corner of your eye. A man sidles up next to you, standing a little too close for comfort. You can’t help but to notice how his beady eyes rake over you, the smell of whiskey emanating off of him like a cloud.

“Evenin’!” Casting your gaze briefly to your right towards the scraggly voice, you notice the man is greasy and lean. His dark hair is combed back under his hat and he carries himself with a cocky air about him.

You give him a polite but quick, “Good evening.”

“Couldn't help but notice a pretty thing like you in a place like this. You must be new. How much you cost?”

Your lips pull inward, trying not to be offensive in your answer as you feel your face start to burn hot. “I’m not for sale. And even if I was, you couldn’t afford my rate.”

The man’s face drops a bit of its smugness, shifting his weight from hip to hip. “Oh, you’re one of those stuck-up girls, are you?”

“No. Just spoken for, is all.”

“Real shame. I could show you a good time.” The man licks his lips in a disgusting gesture, making your skin crawl. Even Micah is better behaved than this man.

A slow and measured sigh escapes your lips. “I’m already having a good time. With someone else.” Although your words are nice enough, the tone is laced with annoyance.

Meanwhile, Arthur’s eyes never leave you as he is watching very closely how this scene is playing out at the bar. He tunes-out the nonsensical blabbering of Sean sitting next to him as his hand tightens down around the bottle he is holding.

But you’ve decided you've had enough of the cretin’s advances and try to push past the idiot to return to your friends, and more importantly, to Arthur. But the man lays his hand on your shoulder, preventing you from leaving. “Now wait a minute, I ain’t done with you.”

“Oh, but I am done with you.” Your eyebrows raise to accentuate your point. “Now if you will excuse me.”

But he quickly grabs your arm, squeezing harshly. “I said-”

In this split second, time stands still and Arthur’s perception of things slows to a crawl as his vision sees red when your face twists up in pain from the harsh grab of this fool. Arthur springs up from his chair, tossing it backward with the force and a speed that belies his size, and he bolts over to the two of you.

Arthur clamps his massive hand around the man’s wrist with a crushing force, halting him in his tracks and peeling the drunk’s dirty fingers from your arm as he protectively moves you behind him.

“That’s enough. The lady said she ain’t for you.” Arthur steps menacingly toward the man, fists balled and his arm pulls back ready to launch, but he stops short when you place your hand on his forearm as a reminder that you are not supposed to be causing a ruckus while in town. The feeling of your fingers on his skin instantly grounds him, distracting Arthur from the sinister thoughts rolling around in his head.

Reluctantly, Arthur tries his best to calm down before he does something that he’ll regret. “Now you best leave it at that and walk away,” Arthur says, taking a breath.

“She belongs to you?!” the man sneers out as if in surprise.

“She don’t belong to no one, least of all you.”

“Well, if that’s the case, this doesn’t concern you, then. This is between me and the lady.” He waves his hand at you. “So you be the one leave it.”

Arthur takes a deep breath in, Hosea’s warning echoing in his head. “Right now, I need to see the back of your head getting smaller and smaller. Keep in mind that I can make that happen several ways.”

“Arthur, don’t,” you warn. “Don’t waste your time on this stupid fool.” You tug gently on his arm, hoping he will come back to the table with you without incident.

The drunk looks indignantly at you. “Who you callin’ a stupid fool, missy?” He keeps his eyes on you as he addresses Arthur. “You better get your little whore there under control,” lifting his chin in your direction. “Or I’ll have to do it for you.”

That is what lights Arthur’s fuse. “What the hell did you just say to her?” His eyes narrow as he takes another menacing step closer to the man, his shoulders squaring up.

You warily wrap your arm around his waist as another, more pressing physical reminder. “Arthur, you promised.”

“Better listen to the little lady, mister,” the drunk keeps pushing, taunting Arthur even further. “And besides, I’m sure I can take care of her better than you anyway…old man.”

Your eyes widen in shock and the room suddenly goes silent.

“Ah, shit,” John mutters from somewhere behind you. With a sigh, John snuffs out his cigarette and starts to roll up his sleeves. He knows exactly what’s coming next. So much for a relaxing night out.

Arthur’s jaw tightens as his teeth grit painfully together. And yet still, he’s struggling internally not to cross that line. For you.

You are impressed with Arthur’s self-control right now, as he did promise to behave himself tonight. But, you are not going to let anyone talk to Arthur like that.

With a slight nod of acceptance, you lovingly pat Arthur’s chest and carefully withdraw your arm from his waist and take a slow and very pronounced step back from him, effectively releasing your beast upon the saloon.

A menacing smile crosses Arthur’s lips as he realizes that like a once-caged animal, he is now free. The drunk’s face flashes confusion for only a second before Arthur’s fist flies, crashing into his jaw. The man’s body crumples haplessly to the floor, but Arthur is quick to grab him by the collar, landing another crushing blow to his face. And then yet another, causing blood to spatter through the air.

There is a sudden explosion of action all around you. You take several staggering steps backwards out of the way until your back collides with a solid wall of muscle. You gasp in a brief panic. But as you turn, you see that it’s Charles. And he is quick to grab you by the hips and lifts you up to sit on the bar, safely out of the way before heading to Arthur’s side. John is already at the ready, smiling cheekily as he throws punches at anyone that gets into his way.

The saloon quickly erupts into an all-out brawl. Chairs get tossed through the air and tables flip over as angry shouting erupts into the atmosphere. Arthur has already beaten the first idiot senseless and has since taken on two more that ineptly tried to jump him in their friend’s defense.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you watch Arthur’s bloodied knuckles land into yet another man’s ribs, lifting his body clean off the ground with the force of the blow. The poor man’s face contorts as if he is about to throw-up a lung. But he doesn’t have time to, as Arthur quickly heaves the man up and then slams him flat on his back to the floor, knocking him out cold. But Arthur quickly recovers to deliver an upper-cut punch to another approaching brawler, filling the air with the disgusting, gut-wrenching sound of bone cracking.

You cast a quick glance to the corner to check on the safety of your friends to find Lenny and Sean already in the thick of the fight as well. Karen is standing on a chair, cackling and hollering, encouraging the fight, while Abigail has tucked herself safely into a corner.

“Come on, Arthur! Knock his lights out!” hollers Karen, waving her beer bottle towards the surging mob.

While you are preoccupied with your friends’ safety, you are startled back to the action in front of you when a drunk gets thrown into you, his head landing in your lap. You yelp in surprise as you look down and immediately grab a bottle from behind the bar, smashing it on his head. The man is knocked senseless and drops to the floor at your feet.

After about twenty minutes of chaos, the fight ends just as quickly as it began. Arthur stands in the middle of the room, his chest heaving, with men sprawled out in unconscious heaps at his feet. He looks down at his knuckles, annoyed at the cuts and mess, and spits out a bit of blood from his cut lip onto the floor. He and John exchange a grin, an unspoken check that the other one is okay. Arthur then scans the room for Charles and catches sight of him just as he tosses some dimwit to the floor. Sean and Lenny stand next to each other, congratulating the other on a job well-done. All are accounted for and alive. A few new bruises, but thankfully none are worse for wear.

Finally, Arthur’s eyes search for you. He finds you still perched upon the bar. Your eyes are wide in astonishment and your chest rises and falls to catch your panicked breath. Arthur’s lips draw inward in guilt, realizing that he’s broken his promise to you. Shame begins to take hold of him, beating about within his rib cage like a bird in flight.

You are not blind nor indifferent to Arthur’s violent tendencies, but you are always so taken aback when you see it first-hand. He is always so mindful and careful with you. But with others, not so much. Arthur is one of those people where if he likes you, he loves you. If he hates you, heaven help you. And his sheer strength and volatility is a wondrous thing to behold.

Blood thunders in your ears as you stare at him, dumbfounded. Your heart races. And it beats for Arthur. It would bleed for him, too.

And then Arthur witnesses a most incredible thing happening. A smirk begins to blossom across your lips as you hold his gaze. Instead of turning in repulsion from what he’s done, you cock an eyebrow at him as you silently hold your arms out, reaching for him.

Without a word, Arthur walks through the minefield of bodies, stepping over arms and legs that are bent at odd angles. He sets his bruised hands upon your waist and gently lifts you down until your small feet touch the dusty floor. You smile up at him, lifting your thumb to gently swipe away the bit of blood that stains his bruised face.

“Let’s go,” you whisper to him as you tuck your arm around his. He doesn’t say anything, only gives you a slight smile and nods, leading you towards the door.

And as you make your way through the crowd, you pause to stand over that first drunk, the one that started this whole mess. He is still sprawled out unconscious on the floor in a deep crimson pool of his own blood. You look down with a frown and promptly kick him in the ribs before heading to the doors.

As soon as you get outside, the cold air hits you in the face with an exhilarating jolt. Rushing down the few steps of the saloon, you abruptly spin into Arthur’s chest, reaching up to grab fistfuls of his hair as you pull him down to your lips. You hungrily kiss him, your tongue thrust into his mouth and trying to ignore how the taste of his blood from his busted lip excites you even more. When you pry yourself from his face, your bosom heaving with desire, you lock eyes with him. You have never been so riled up in your life.

“We need to get back to our room. Now.”

It only takes a second for Arthur to register the idea. “Right.” And he snatches your hand up into his, dragging you across the dirt street, your feet skipping to keep up with his long strides.

The moment you enter the hotel lobby, you sprint ahead of him, pulling him up the stairs behind you. The two of you bounce off of the walls of the hallway, knocking into meticulously placed picture frames as arms and hands grasp at each other. Lips desperately try to find and land on a patch of skin, any patch will do, in the process.

Reaching the door to your room, Arthur’s attention momentarily leaves you to fumble with the key to the lock, the last obstacle between you and sweet ecstasy. A childish pout graces your face at the loss of his lips on yours, and you are quick to reach up and latch your own to his neck, teeth grazing his beard-stubbled flesh. The moment your teeth sink into his neck, Arthur almost drops the key, a lustful groan involuntarily crossing his lips. His hips reflexively push you against the door for a moment, grinding in an effort to find the sought-after friction he needs. He tastes salty from working up a sweat during the bar fight. And you’ll be working him into a froth before the night is over, for sure. A mumbled chain of expletives drops from his mouth until he can get his fingers to work properly to fit the key into the lock.

He finally manages to free the heavy wooden door from its confines and barrels through the entryway, dragging you with him. You bumble ungracefully into the room which is still warm with the remnants of a fire burning in the small fireplace.

Your lips remain heatedly locked together as your hands make quick work of the buttons of Arthur’s shirt, roughly shoving the fabric back off his shoulders to expose his tanned skin. Your fingertips are already at the buttons of his pants while he is still fumbling with the strings of your dress, his large fingers unable to handle the small knots. Frustrated, Arthur grabs the seams, about ready to pull the damn thing apart and rip it off you when you abruptly stop, pulling back from him and grabbing his face. His eyes shoot open in surprise.

“Don’t you dare rip this dress, Arthur Morgan!” You snap sharply “You already owe me a new dress from the last one you ripped.”

He gives you a frustrated snort, like a bull about to charge, and a scowl of impatience on his handsome face.

A sultry smirk of empathy quickly floats along your face. With your hands placed on his chest, you push Arthur backwards, nibbling on his lips as you do, until his legs touch the edge of the bed. You sweep your foot against his, making him lose his balance as you aggressively push him over. His hat tumbles to the floor as his hands thread behind his head to watch you.

You step back and begin to untie the strings of your dress. You accentuate your movements as the ties become undone and you pull the fabric from your shoulders. You shake your hips a little with a dance as the rest of the dress falls from your supple hips to gather on the floor. Unable to look away from your little show, Arthur draws his hand over his mouth in anticipation. He is literally salivating at the idea of you.

Within moments you are bare as the day you were born and on display for him to take in the view. You pull at the pins holding your hair up and the thick waves tumble down around your graceful shoulders, the tips of the curls dancing across the smooth skin of your breasts. Arthur’s whole body actually shudders, making you smile at the control you have right now.

You stealthily climb over him like a cat stalking its prey, leaving kisses along his abdomen as you crawl along his muscled body. When he runs the back of his knuckles across your cheek, you take a hold of his hand, pausing briefly to assess the damage before placing your delicate lips to the cuts and bruises. You look into his eyes, beholding him with such love and affection.

“Now that you’ve seen what I really am, do you think you'll still keep lovin’ me?” Arthur asks. His question is said both in jest and in earnest.

“I’ve always known what you are, Arthur. I just didn’t realize that you were this beautiful.”

Tears would flood his eyes if he had the time to process what you’ve said. But you quickly pounce before his mind can spiral on you as you place one more heated and deep kiss on his mouth, your teeth pulling on his lips, before you backtrack to hover over his pelvis. He is rock-hard at this point, clearly visible under the denim of his jeans. You fish your hand under the fabric to pull out his large and swollen cock. Caressing it in your hand, you give a few quick pumps before your hot mouth envelops him.

Arthur’s eyes never leave you, raptly watching as you work. The sight of you handling him, of your mouth bobbing around his cock, is the most amazing thing to witness. His mouth falls open and his eyes roll back at the sweet pressure of your lips on his most delicate area, a euphoric mixture of pleasure and pain. Arthur flops back onto the bed, arms wobbly and unable to hold himself up anymore. His large hand comes up to grab a fistful of your soft hair, his palm working open and closed in an effort to pace himself.

You hum as your mouth bobs up and down his shaft and the gentle vibration travels through his skin like electricity, causing him to hiss and groan. Giving Arthur a taste of his own medicine, you pull along his cock faster, tightening the muscles of your mouth to squeeze a bit more, making him harder than ever. Your hand then reaches down to cup his testicles, rolling them gently amongst your soft fingers. Arthur’s breathing becomes increasingly sporadic as his mind is pushed to the limit and about to explode.

When you get to the point where you just can’t prolong your own release any longer, you pull his cock from your mouth with one last lick to the underside of his tip. You walk yourself up on your knees until your hips line up with his. With a wanton little whimper, you lower down onto him, his thick cock filling you to the point where he hits the back wall of your cunt. Your chin dips to your chest as your breath gets sucked in at the ever-tight fit. Likewise, Arthur lets out a hissing groan as his hands shoot upward to grip your thighs tightly.

You pause a moment to collect yourself and then slowly lift your lashes to meet his heated gaze. The outlaw sees his own lustful expression staring back at him in your shimmering eyes and his heart skips a beat because of it. A slow hiss from the back of your throat falls from your shaking lips as you take a moment to try to form coherent words.

Finally, you are able to focus long enough to string together only one thought out loud, which comes out in a husky whisper:

“I am going to ride you like a stolen horse, cowboy.”

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*I tagged people who expressed interest in the continued story. If you’d like to be added or removed, please let me know. There are a few that would not let me link, so I apologize if this doesn’t ping some people.

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader smut #photo1030

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jazminrhode1 · 8 months

Text

Sturniolo vs Sturniolo Sturniolo Triplets x Reader One Shot

Summary: You’re best friends with the triplets and you help them get over a fight.

Notes: N/a

You're at the triplets' house in LA watching Netflix on your laptop while they record the latest episode of their podcast. Over your headphones, you can hear yelling, and doors slamming.

You see Chris storm down the stairs to his room in the basement and Matt follows closely behind. He walks over to you slowly, looking upset, and slumps down on the couch next to you.

"What happened?" you asked, closing your laptop.

Matt lies down, resting his head on your lap. He never acts like this. This is going to be bad.

"I'm done," he says, "I'm done with this.

You're confused and need more information. "What happened?" you repeated.

He rolls onto his back, head still in your lap, looking straight up at you. "Nick and Chris fighting. I can't take it anymore, it's every fucking day" he explains.

Nick and Chris had been fighting a lot more than usual but, you figured it would pass - it always does. Nick was always the leader as the eldest triplet but, you could tell Chris didn't want to play the role of the idiotic youngest brother anymore.

You ran your fingers through Matt's hair and said, "Let me go and talk to them". You stood up and made your way upstairs.

You knock on Nick's door before opening it and hear him scream from the other side of the door, "fuck off, Matt!"

"It's me," you said as you opened the door slowly to avoid being hit by anything he might throw in your direction.

"Oh" he said sheepishly and patted the spot on the bed beside him. You made your way over and sat down next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. "What's going on?" you asked.

"Chris is being a dick and Matt's playing devil's advocate again", he said.

"Why do you think Chris is being a dick?" you asked. Hoping he would come to the conclusion on his own.

"He's so argumentative, he doesn't ever want to do what we want to do and he just sits around pouting whenever we try to film", Nick explains.

You nod slowly because you do understand where he's coming from. "I think that Chris is at a place where he's not a dumb kid anymore and -" before you can finish, Nick says "he doesn't want to be treated that way."

"Exactly" you nod. You sit up and look at Nick, he's shaking his head in disbelief. "We're lucky to have you, Y/n," he says.

"I'm gonna go talk to Chris", you say. "I hope he doesn't throw a fit", Nick replies. "That's what we're not going to do" you say as you leave his room and shut the door behind you.

As you walk past the middle level, Matt is where you left him scrolling through his TikTok at full volume. He looks up at you and raises his eyebrows as if to ask how it went. You didn't say anything just simply nodded and headed downstairs.

Music was blasting from Chris' room - you could hear it from upstairs. You didn't bother to knock before opening the door. Chris was lying on his bed with his face buried in his pillow. You took the remote to the stereo and turned it off.

"Hey!" he yelled. When he saw it was you, he went back to sulking.

'What's going on, Chris?" you asked as you walked over and sat next to him. He didn't reply and you thought you may have heard a sniffle but, you couldn't be sure.

"Chris," you started as he turned his head away from you. "You can't just sit in here and sulk. You need to talk to your brothers" you said.

"Why? They think I'm just a big fucking baby" he spat before burying his face back in his pillow.

"No one thinks that" you reassure him. "Nick thinks that" he says.

"Nick loves you. He's just so used to being the oldest he-", Chris interrupts you before you could finish, "he treats me like a big fucking baby."

"Not anymore," you start. "It might take some time but, he's not going to do that anymore," you say.

Chris turns to look at you and you can see the tears welling in his eyes. He was never good at communicating and would always bottle up his feelings until he exploded. Case in point.

"I hate when he treats me like that" Chris pouts.

"Sometimes, you need to tell him that," you say, "you might be triplets but, he can't read your mind".

Chris nods. He knows you're right no matter how much he hates to admit it. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he wipes his eyes with his sleeve.

"Are you OK?" you ask. He nods, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

He jumps on top of you and wraps his arms around you, rolling over and pulling you onto his chest. At that moment, Nick and Matt walk in confused by what they're witnessing. You and Chris are giggling about how ridiculous he is and Matt piles on to join the hug.

Nick crossed his arms and shakes his head. "This is why I treat you like a child" he exclaims.

Chris frees one arm and tries to swing at Nick, still giggling and feeling much better.

"Get in here", Matt says. "Yeah, you guys should call a truce", you add.

Reluctantly, Nick walks over and flops on top of you all. You all roll until you're laying side by side, staring at the flicker of the ceiling light.

"Thank you", Matt whispers. Chris and Nick nod in agreeance.

"We couldn't do any of this without you, Y/n," Nick says. Chris and Nick shake their heads in unison.

"I love you, idiots," you say, with a smile on your face. "We love you more," Chris says as he rests his head on your shoulder.

345 notes · View notes

nc-vb · 10 months

Text

𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐚, 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐡𝐰𝐚, & 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐡𝐮𝐚 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐬

a long time coming that I've meant to compile a list, but it just kept growing and growing and growing...

the webtoon list includes my very personal & important in-my-heart recommendations. aaaaand the rest are mostly smutty, kinky, and even a little dark.......... do not perceive, just enjoy. and support the official author's work and translations if you can!!

if there are any in this list you'd like a heads up about before reading, feel free to drop me an ask and I'll give you my honest opinion/review.

if you're having trouble locating anything, shoot me an ask (because i have most, if not all, of the links saved).

and feel free to gush to me if you liked any of them!! i'm always happy to talk about mmm's.

[updated july 3rd, 2023] - newly added titles are in green.

𝐵𝐿 = boy's love genre 𝐆𝐋 = girl's love genre 𝟏+ = includes harems & poly relationships ❤ = absolute masterpieces, highly recommended! ! = proceed with extreme caution/heed all warnings

please heed all warnings and tags found within each of these recommendations, as well as my own warnings from the symbol legend above and found throughout this post.

some of these are sfw and some aren't. some of these aren't for the faint of heart and will be marked to be read at your own risk. additionally, not all are translated into English. 𝐵𝐿/𝐆𝐋 are separate from the general list.

𝐖𝐄𝐁𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐍

A Messy Fairy Tale 𝟏+

A Summer Night's Dream

Age Matters ❤

Back to You

Bailin and Li Yun BL❤

Bitten Contract

Boyfriend of the Dead

Castle Swimmer BL

City of Blank

Dating With a Tail

Daytime Star

Devil Number 4 ❤

Devilish Romance

Down to Earth

Dreaming Freedom

Ghost Wife

Ghostly Buddie

Half-Ghost

Harem of LuuAnh

Hello Baby ❤

I'm the Grim Reaper

I Love Yoo ❤

It's Mine

Jeff's Disorders

Kind of Confidential

Little Rain

Lore Olympus ❤

Love Advice from the Great Duke of Hell ❤

Mage & Demon Queen GL

Marry Me!

Maybe Meant to Be

Meow Man

Midnight Poppy Land

Midnight Rain

Mom, I'm Sorry

Morgana and Oz

Muse on Fame

My Beloved Emperor

My Dear Cold-Blooded King

My Four Husbands 𝟏+

My In-Laws are Obsessed with Me ❤

My Lovely Bodyguard

Nice to Meet You

Not Even Bones

Operation: True Love ❤

Pastel-colored Pages

Phase

Scorching Romance

See You in My 19th Life ❤

Selina ~ Moon Bride ~

Siren's Lament ❤

Soleil

Space Boy

Strange and Wild

SubZero

Swimming Lessons for a Mermaid ❤

Take Off BL

The Devil is a Handsome Man

The First Night With the Duke ❤

The Guy Upstairs

The Newlywed Diary of a Witch and a Dragon ❤

The RUNWAY

There Must Be Happy Endings

To the Stars and Back BL

Trapped ❤

Unlovable Replacement

When Jasy Whistles ❤❤

Winter Woods

Your Smile is a Trap ❤

𝐒𝐅𝐖

Abe-kun's Got Me Now! (Abe-kun ni Nerawaretemasu)

A Master, Who Woke Up As a Concubine ❤

And Yet, You Are So Sweet (Na no ni, Chigira-kun amasugiru)

Beloved in-Laws (poor transl.)

Bon Appétit ❤

Don't Blush, Sekime

Forget My Husband, I'll Go Make Money (Aug 2023)

Golden Forest !

I, My, Me, Mine ❤ (アイマイミーマイン)

I Became the Male Lead's Adopted Daughter

I Can't Keep Up With My Stallion Duke ❤❤

I Will Change the Genre

I Will Rewrite the Dead End Novel

In the Clear Moonlit Dusk ❤ (Uruwashi no Yoi no Tsuki)

It's My Destiny to Be the Hero's Saviour !

Kubo Won't Let Me Be Invisible

Love's in Sight!

Loving Yamada at Lv 999 ❤❤❤

Male Lead, I'll Respect Your Taste !

Ookami no Musume ❤❤

Pink and Habanero ❤ (Pink to Habanero)

Protected by My Dragon Knight (Seijo wa Ryuukishi-sama ni Mamorarete)

Scary Faced High Schooler and Miss Plain Jane

Second Life of a Trash Princess

Sinking too deep in your rabbit hole, now I'm drowning in your love

Stella Next to Me ❤ (Tonari no Stella)

The Cunning Princess and the Shark ❤

The Fragrant Flower Blooms With Dignity ❤ (Kaoru Hana wa Rin to Saku)

The Muscle Girl Next Door

The Obsessive Second Male Lead Has Gone Wild

The Reasons We Fall in Love ❤ (Watashi-tachi ga koisuru riyuu)

The Tyrant's Comfort Doll !

To the Dear F-Phantom of the Opera (Shinai naru F e: Opera-za no Kaijin)

Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun ❤ (Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun)

Vampire Lord's Greatest Wife ❤

Welcome to the Yandere Cafe (rating subject to change)

Yojouhan no Ibara Hime

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐅𝐖

あざと可愛い✕くんの執着サド交尾は本物です x!!!

無能力巫女は狛犬の淫紋快楽漬け x❤!

2LDK IKEMEN Tsuki Bukken Arimasu !!

A Dream Between the Sheets ❤❤

A Gentle Sea Monster and a Lonely Girl !

A Predator in a Skirt !

A Sip of Poison !

Boy's Abyss (subject to change, new read) !!

Childhood Friend's Secret Massage !

Consort to the Fox Spirit Lord

Dark Fall !

Depths of Malice !

Devoured by a Bookworm Girl !

Fire in His Fingertips ❤

Former Delinquent Farmer's Sex Appeal is Dangerous!

From Him to Who? ~Sex With My Body-Snatched Husband ❤

Gokudou to Omega - Mukidashi no Katsuai

Hana's Demons of Lust !

Hare-kon 𝟏+

Heat 200 Meters Away (200 M Saki no Netsu)

Honey, I'm Going On a Strike!

How to Make a Frigid Girl Cum

I'm in Love With Mr. Hanabusa

Lady K and the Sick Man ❤❤

Last Order wa Ojou-san de Dekiai Jouren Kyaku ni Kyuuai saretemasu

Junai - Pure Wet Love

Kuma to Tora ~Taikakusa Osananajimi no Hajimete kara, Kemono ni Naru 2-kakan made~ x

Madoka Exorcist ❤!

Mede Little Roy !

Mr. Tada is a Top Performer

Muttsuri Akazukin-kun kara wa nige rarenai

My Cold Co-worker Obsessively Loves Me

Pet Baby Doll

Pygmalion's Savior is a Big But Immature Love Monster !❤

Red Hot Proposal: Surrounded by His Tanned Body

Sadistic Beauty !!!!

Sakaki the Lazybones Shows His Talents at Night ❤❤

Sapphire Dew ~ Infatuated Gentlemanly Boyfriend Seizes the Initiative !

Seishun no Hekireki

Seriously can't pass this up. - Kohai's passionate sex won't stop until morning

Sinful Nun Pays Penitence to the Serpent ❤❤

Spring Amidst My Wintertide ❤

Superstitious Nine ❤

Sweet Lies Layered Like a Mille Feuille ❤

Tadano Renai Nanka de Kikkonai ❤❤

The Golden Forest !

The Goldfish’s Corpse Lies at the Bottom of the Swamp !!!!!!!!

The Greengrocer is a Carnivore in Bed!?

The Man Who Saved Me in My Isekai Trip Was a Killer!!!!!!!

The Neighbor in Room 203 Disappeared Leaving a Key Behind !!!!!!!

The Reincarnated Saint Falls for the Demon Lord

The Tainted Half !

The Virgin Witch

The Weird Senior in the Seat Next to Me ❤❤❤! (Tonari Senpai)

Toshishita Osananajimi ga Watashi o Shibatte Hanasa nai! x

Totem's Realm

Touching is Better Than Looking

Under the Oak Tree

Until the Obedient Bodyguard Exposes the Body and the Lie of the Fake Lady ❤

"Wanna Cum?" The Pure Taiga Advances Slow and Sweet ❤❤

Welcome to the Muscle Salon ❤❤❤

When Beauty Meets Beasts

When You Are Reincarnated As The villain NPC's Girl And Be Loved By The Strongest Prince Who Is Not A Capture Target !!

Wild Eyes

Will You Pledge Your Love to an Incubus?

Wish Upon a Husband

Yaba Ai Instructor !

You're Too Cute for Me to Be Gentle

𝐁𝐋 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒

4 Week Lovers BL

A Handless Day BL!

A Hot Wet Job for Three -Adult Toy Tester- BL, 𝟏+

A Kiss for You, My Shinobi BL

A Tree Without Roots BL❤!

Angel Buddy BL❤❤

Bidou Wakadanna Koi Shitau Wa Koushoku Otoko BL❤

Bitten by Moonlight BL

Black Mirror BL!!!

Blind Play BL!!

Can't Think Straight BL

Cherry Blossoms After Winter BL

Confession Night BL

Dangerous Convenience Store BL

Dawn of the Dragon BL

Dear Door BL

DEATH or LOVE BL

Delinquent Omega Belongs to the Beast King BL

Demon of Lustful Hell BL

Desharow Merman BL❤

Die If You Aren't a Virgin BL

Eat Me Up, My Husband BL!

Ennead

Eunsoo's Good Day BL

Eye Contact BL

Fake Fact Lips BL

Frenemies: Thicker Than Blood BL❤

Friends, Engaged

Fucking in the Dorms BL!

Ghost Gate BL!!!!!

Healing Paradox BL❤

He's a Better Top Than Me?! BL

Home Far Away BL❤!!!

Horeta Otoko wa Shin'yuu de BL!

Housekeeper's Love Affair BL

How to convince your best friend to sleep with you BL

Hyperventilation BL❤❤❤

I Didn't Ask You to Eat Me!

I Love You, Nothing Else Matters BL❤

In an Empty Classroom BL

Indigo BL

I Ship My Rival x Me BL

It's Just a Dream... Right? BL❤❤❤

Jinx BL!

Kabukicho Bad Trip BL

Kiss de Egaku Ittousei BL❤

Kiss Me, Liar BL!

Lala no Kekkon BL!

Liveta BL

Love in Kitsch BL

Love is an Illusion BL!

Love Jinx BL❤

Low Tide in Twilight BL!!

Mad Dog BL❤❤

Miscreants and Mayhem BL

Missing Love BL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (<I cannot express this enough.)

My Delicious Dream Boy BL❤

My Demon Crybaby, Maria BL

My Partner Suddenly Got Younger - An Omega Caretaker Plays Alpha BL!

Natsu no Teppen ni Saku BL

Old-Fashioned Cupcake BL❤❤ (has a j-drama)

Pain, Sweet Pain BL

Passion BL

Payback BL❤❤❤

Pearl Boy BL❤!!!!!!

Pink Heart Jam BL❤❤

Please, Candy! BL!

Roses and Champagne BL!

Sadistic Beauty: Side Story BL!!!!!!

Secret Inside My Head BL❤❤❤

Semantic Error BL (has a j-drama)

Sensei wa Nekketsu ga Areba Juubunda! BL!

Sick BL

Sign BL❤❤❤

Sketch BL❤

Speak of the Devil BL

Steel Under Silk BL❤

Surge Looking for You BL❤

Sweet Trap BL

Tabetemo Oishiku Arimasen BL

Tentacle Recipe BL(?)❤

The Blessed Life of a Retired Nian Monster BL

The Crybaby's at the Mean Devil's Mercy BL❤

The Foxy Mouse's Romance BL

The Origin of Species BL!

The Pizza Delivery Man and the Gold Palace BL

The Pure-Hearted Puppy and the Erotic Tattoo BL❤

The Silent Concubine BL!

The Unquenchable Mr. Kim BL❤

The Words in Your Snare BL❤❤❤

To Take An Enemy's Heart BL!

Tomodachi Engagement BL

Trick Turned Into a Threesome With the Tachibana Brother BL

Under the Greenlight BL

Unexpectedly Naughty Fukami BL❤

Unromantic Romance BL❤

Young Lover BL!!

Your Wish is My Command BL❤

Yours to Claim BL

Zenryaku, Onii-chan wa Seijo ni Narimashita BL!

more recommendations will likely be added as time goes on! feel free to copy these recs for your own checklist of 'to reads'.

hope you enjoy them like i did! :)

#manga recommendation #manhwa recommendation #manhua recommendation #bl manga #bl manhwa #bl manhua #manga recs #manhwa recs #manhua recs #PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS FOR THE EXCLAMATION TAGGED RECS OKAY??? I'M NOT JOKING ABOUT THEM.#i've read some pretty awful things over the past few years... like really awful.#... a lot of them did not make this list.#'Missing Love' has that many !!! and is bolded in red for a REASON-- i've never cried so hard for a MC than i did for Lee Geom.#seriously... it's so awful. and i hate that i found it because i need to know that he eventually has something good happen for him.#i don't really want to discuss it but for anyone's curiosities... i mean... feel free to ask me in dms so i can warn you...#✦ nc vb.

215 notes · View notes

miasmaghoul · 4 months

Note

how about the best to the worst at eating pussy/rimming?

god i was SO hoping someone would ask about this specifically lets ABSOLUTELY FUCKIN GO

best to worst below the cut, as is tradition 😌

Swiss - CHAMPION. this ghoul could do nothing BUT eat for the rest of his time Above and he would not complain for a moment. his tongue is just as sharp when it's between someone's legs, and he's the only one that can lick an orgasm out of Cirrus. high praise, to be certain. he regularly rims Dew to the point of tears and has cum in his pants about it more than once.

Cumulus - she's a close second to Swiss, and Mountain says she has the devil's tongue. the others agree - whether it's Aurora sitting on her face or Aether on his back with his knees draw up, she can wring pleasure from them all in her own special way. she even has routines memorized for everyone - Sunshine likes her taint kissed, Aeon likes having his balls cradled, Dew wants his nipples toyed with while she licks - and she loves to take her time and have fun.

Dew - that warm mouth works wonders. he's a ghoul of two minds, depending on who he's with. sometimes he's aggressive, lots of sloppy kisses and wide passes over his tongue to drag desperate noises from Rain, Aurora, Sunshine or Aeon. other times he's measured and methodical, little kitten licks and gentle presses of his lips to warm up Aether, Cumulus or Mountain before he slides his tongue inside and makes their eyes roll back. Swiss only gets rimmed if they 69, and Dew does not go down on Cirrus unless it's with an ice cube in his mouth to temper the flame.

Mountain - slow, deliberate and thorough. Mountain always eats like he's sitting down to a nice meal, savoring every moment like he's been starved for it. it's lovely, of course, but sometimes it's A Lot - he'll lick until they cum and then for a while after, regardless of his partner's little yips of sensitivity. he praises them throughout, kisses their inner thighs and lower stomach, but he won't be stopping until he's done.

Rain - also slow and deliberate, but in a more torturous way. adores edging his partners with his mouth, licking and suckling and making a whole wet mess of them and himself until they're shaking and breathless and pleading. however, he almost never makes them cum like that - not that he can't, of COURSE he can, he just chooses not to. they don't cum until he does, unless he says otherwise.

Aether - he's good, very good, but Aether ranks lower because he is just such a sucker for eye contact and that can be hard to maintain with your face buried between someone's legs. he has to take regular breaks just to look at them, especially Dew and Cumulus. he's been banned from going down on Cirrus unless he's blindfolded so he doesn't get distracted. he would much rather be within kissing distance.

Sunshine - she's got the enthusiasm, but not the stamina. her jaw aches after just a few minutes, even when she rubs it with nice, warm hands in an effort to give m o r e. she loves the feeling of someone cumming around her tongue more than most anything else, though, so once she's sore she'll just wriggle it into their willing body and finish them off with her hands instead.

Cirrus - perfunctory placement once again as the only one Cirrus will go down on regularly is Cumulus - anyone else has to earn the privilege of her mouth. that's not to say she isn't good, far from it. she'll have Cumulus shaking and sweaty in no time, grabbing at the sheets and soaking her chin. Swiss is the only other one that gets her tongue with any sort of frequency, and that's only because she knows she can overstim him until he's on the brink of safewording out. it's a thrill.

Aurora - likes the reactions it gets, but really isn't the biggest fan of putting in the work. she's impatient, is what is comes down to. it wouldn't be difficult to learn the ins and outs of their bodies, to figure out what makes Mountain howl like a wounded animal or how to make Rain shudder like he's ill. all she would have to do is practice! and maybe one day she will - for now, though, the others will have to make do with the few minutes of lazy (though pleasant) licking they get before they ravish each other.

Aeon - oh, Aeon. poor, sweet Aeon. he tries, he really really tries, but no one has the heart to tell him that the drooling does him no favors. all it does is remove any friction and make a mess, and while it's true that that is less of an issue when a cock is involved, he's yet to discover that those skills are not transferable. he'll get there, though!

#miasma's work #the band ghost headcanons #nameless ghoul headcanons #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #aether ghoul #aeon ghoul #phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #aurora ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette

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mnemomnemonomi · 7 months

Text

Roronoa Zoro x Child Reader : The Sword's Thief

Hello everyone ! I finished translating another One Shot I wrote on Wattpad. It's still in third POV, I might change after finishing all the translation of the "old OS".

Synopsis : Y/n a little child thought it was a good idea to steal one of Zoro's sword to beat up her island's tyran.

Content : NO ROMANCE, Y/n is 8 years old, Y/n is used by a pirate just like Nami was with Aarlong (nothing detailed), the villain is a cartoon's villain, Zoro need a GPS, Zoro centered.

Words : 2.6k

The Sword's Thief

Cries echoed through the bustling streets of an ordinary town as a young girl sprinted, her legs pumping, clutching a paper bag tightly in her small arms. This was none other than little Y/n, known by all as the pint-sized thief of the Wicked Mustachio's pirate’s crew. He had complete control over the town, extorting merchants, menacing the villagers, coercing the homeless into service, and even resorting to violence against men who didn't let their wives entertain the captain...

In short, he was a tyrant.

Little Y/n was aware of this. Despite her tender age, she had attempted to escape by sea, but each time, she never got far. Today was her eighth birthday, or at least the day she had chosen to celebrate it. Being an orphan, she had little information about her family and had been forced to join this abominable man just to survive.

However, his reign would come to an end today, on the child's eighth birthday. This time, she was determined to end it. What was the use of escaping to the sea if she were to die afterward? No, Y/n would become free again, she would learn to sail, and more than that, she would travel the world!

With such determination, her pursuers were quickly shaken off as she sat against a wall in a dark alley. She opened the paper bag she held tightly in her hands and pulled out an apple. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of the shiny fruit, despite the darkness. In a matter of minutes, she devoured the fruit and congratulated herself on choosing to steal something good this time. It wouldn't have been the first time the girl with (e/c) eyes stole a half-rotten or even spoiled fruit.

She ate the other apple in the bag while watching a group of young adults outside a restaurant. They were surprisingly loud for such a simple task as eating, especially the one dressed in red with a straw hat on his head. It was precisely this hat that got the girl thinking. She had seen this young man somewhere before...

It was when she saw the man with green hair and an unhappy expression that she remembered. He was from the famous Straw Hat Pirate crew. As far as she knew, they were very strong pirates who had already defeated a Shichibukai!

She found herself admiring and envying them. There was no doubt that if she had even a quarter of their strength, she could give that mustachioed man a good beating! While watching the pirates eat, an idea came to her. The man with green hair, Zoro the pirate hunter, was known to be very strong. However, he hadn't eaten a Devil Fruit, so how could he be so powerful without any powers? That's when Y/n concluded that his swords were not simple blades; they must surely contain incredible power!

"If I could have at least one, I could show that fatso!" thought the little girl.

Careful not to get caught, Y/n slipped through the crowd until she reached the Mugiwara crew's table. She paid no attention to the faces enjoying their meal, too absorbed in her effort to remain discreet. She examined the three swords rested on a wall near the pirate’s chair. She finally decided which one to take, having a preference for the white one. She gently lifted it, making no noise, and began to move away. She sighed in relief after a few steps, thinking she was far enough when she heard a voice.

"Zoro, someone's stealing your sword," announced the captain, chewing on his meat.

"What?!?" he replied, turning to his swords.

"Oops!" thought the little girl as she started running.

"Hey! Come back, you little brat! Give me back the Wado Ichimonji!" ordered the pirate hunter, chasing after her.

"I'm taking your share, Zoro!" shouted the straw hat as he dug into his plate.

The girl with (h/c) hair hurried through several alleyways, relying on her knowledge of the city to lose the pirate. It didn't take long, and after about three alleys, she was all alone.

"For a famous pirate, he's stupid. He can't even keep up with me," thought Y/n a little bit surprised.

She didn't think much of it and decided to put her plan into action. She was going to end Mustr the Wicked Mustachio's reign! She walked calmly and decisively toward the pirate's hideout. After a few minutes, she arrived at a large square place where tents were set up. She knew that the one in the back, the largest, belonged to the captain. As she was about to enter the place, pirates blocked her way.

"What are you doing here, kid?" asked a brunette man.

"You don't have the right to be here," replied his purple-hatted accomplice.

"I work for Mustr!" she retorted.

"Yeah, right! And I'm Whitebeard!" scoffed the first man.

"I'm Y/n! Mustr asked me to steal from people and give him money!"

"Huh? You’re starting to get on my nerves, kid. Do you want me to put two little holes in your pretty skull?" threatened one of the pirates.

"Wait, her name sounds familiar, and look at this sword. She could never use it to harm us. We have revolvers; she's not inoffensive. Let her in," conceded the man with the hat.

"As you wish, but if something happens, it's on you..."

The little girl entered the square and walked proudly to the large tent, despite the mocking glances from the pirates. She stood in front of a small man who was a few inches taller than her and stared at him with determination. The man got up from his couch and stroked his red mustache with an arrogant smile.

"Hello, my little Y/n, I see you've brought me a sword. Is that all you have? Because it's clearly not enough for what you cost me in food."

"I'm not here for that. I'm going to kill you, Mustr!"

"You? A mere eight-year-old, an orphan no less?"

"Exactly! And you'll beg me to spare you, even your horrible mustache will beg me!"

"What? What did you say about my mustache? Horrible mustache? You insolent little brat!" he exclaimed as his mustache grew and coiled around Y/n.

"I can't move! I need to draw the sword and cut this thing!" she thought, trying to unsheathe the sword from its scabbard.

"Listen well, you insolent child. I am Mustr the Wicked Mustachio! I control this island, and a kid like you won't stand up to me! You wanted to kill me with this sword? What a shame; it's mine now," laughed the mini pirate as he snatched the sword from the girl's hands.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, it's over," mocked one of his henchmen.

"Any last words?" the redhead asked, drawing the sword.

Y/n closed her eyes wishing once again that she was stronger. Even if she died right there, she would curse him to death !

"Hey. You there, the furry one, didn't anyone tell you to not touch people's stuff?" asked a male voice.

"Hmm? Oh, I see. You're the one who owned this sword that this kid stole."

"I want you to give it back to me."

"Sorry, but you see, this kid belongs to me, so everything she has is actually mine. So now, get lost," Mustr replied.

"I won't repeat myself. Give me back this sword, and I promise not to slice you up too much," threatened the green-haired man.

"You're going to slice me? Show me how you’d do that!" mocked the small sized pirate. "Guys, get him!"

"Captain!"

"What?!" he snapped sharply.

"He's already wiped out all our men!" replied the henchman badly beaten up.

"It's impossible!"

"Ittoryu: Shishi Sonson!"

In a matter of seconds, Mustr was cut down while Y/n was released from the pirate's grip. She fell to the ground, coughing, before taking a deep breath. She held her throat, wincing, and watched as the former pirate hunter reclaimed his white sword. The little girl suppressed a tremor when she realized the green-haired man was approaching her with a menacing look.

"You! What were you planning to do with my sword, huh?" he demanded.

"I-I wanted to beat him!" she replied while clenching her small fists with anticipation.

"What? A kid like you with my sword? Let me laugh; you wouldn't even be able to unsheathe it!"

"..."

"Tsss, what an annoying kid. Now I don't know where the others are."

"Um... Mister...?"

“What?!”

“I, um... Thank you for helping me.”

“Huh? I just wanted to get the Wado Ichimonji back.”

“I see…”

“Hey, take me back to my captain. After all, it's the least you can do after all of this, right?”

“Hmm,” Y/n agreed.

And so, the little girl, accompanied by Zoro, set off to reunite with the Straw Hat crew. What should have taken only a few minutes turned into several hours due to the famous swordsman's sense of direction. Fortunately for Y/n, they finally arrived at the port where the Thousand Sunny was anchored. The two boarded the ship when suddenly Zoro teased her.

"Well, you really don't know your city."

"You were the one who got lost!" replied the little girl, momentarily forgetting her fear of him.

"Oi, Zoro! Did you get your sword back?" asked the straw-hatted captain, approaching.

"Yeah, in the blink of an eye," smiled the swordsman.

"Oh, you're the little thief!" the captain noted, extending his neck to be at Y/n's height.

"Aaaaaaaah!" she exclaimed, seeing the abnormal length of the young man's neck.

"What's going on?!" asked a orange-haired woman who emerged from the ship's cabin.

"I don't know; she screamed out of nowhere." replied the one with an abnormal long neck.

"You idiot, you scared her," Zoro retorted.

"Oh, how cute," the young woman admitted.

"H-His neck, it-" stuttered the little girl.

"I'm a rubber man, so it's normal! Nami ! Zoro's here, we can go!" exclaimed the captain.

"Tha-That’s not normal!" pointed the child, hiding behind the swordsman.

"Hey, what are you doing?" he replied watching the kid holding onto his legs.

"He's weird."

"I know, no need to stick yourself to me."

"I wasn't sticking to you!" retorted Y/n.

"Oh, really? Then what were you doing, you scaredy-cat?" smiled Zoro.

"I'm not a scaredy-cat! I was just being careful not to step on you, you know, with the grass!"

"Wha-What did you say, you brat? You want me to slice you like that furry gu-"

"Isn't it over yet?!" Nami exclaimed a bit mad.

"Honestly, bickering with a child, you really are a brainless cactus," added a blond man.

"What, you too? Are you picking a fight with me?"

As the two pirates began to argue, Luffy and Nami approached Y/n. At first, she was wary of them, until the captain made funny faces that could rival even the most experienced clowns. She recounted what had happened, from Mustr's control of the island to today. Nami couldn't help but see a bit of herself in the girl, and she decided to take the little girl wherever she wanted. Of course, Luffy didn't see any problem with it since it was one of his crewmate's wishes.

"Really?! Hum, then the next island!" Y/n asked.

"Are you sure?" asked worriedly Nami.

"Yes, I'm going to go around the world when I’ll be a grownup!"

"We're seriously taking the kid with us?" Zoro complained.

"Does that bother you, Zoro?" Nami threatened.

"Yeah, but I'll get used to it," he replied, sensing the redhead's stern gaze.

A few minutes later, the ship named Thousand Sunny raised its sails for the next island. Throughout the journey, the little girl got to know the Straw Hat crew and found them very amusing, especially the captain!

Her stay was mainly spent with Chopper, whom Y/n liked to call "Fluffy", but also with Zoro. Strangely, she followed him almost everywhere. When he trained with his dumbbells, she did the same, or at least tried to.

"284...285...286...” counted the green-haired man.

“Gnnn... Gnnnngh!”

“What are you doing here, kid?”

“Don’t call me kid! I have a name! It's Y/n!”

“That doesn't answer my question…Kid.”

“Now you’re doing it on purpose! But I'm training,” answered Y/n while trying to calm her anger down.

“Training for what? You won't be able to lift this; it's way too heavy for a kid like you.”

“Of course, I'll be able to! Just sit down and watch me!” countered the child. “Gnnngh!”

“Don't force it. You realize that you can’t lift it, you're clearly an idiot!" he replied, taking the dumbbell from the child's hands.

"Give it back!"

"Why do you want to train so badly?"

"I want to be as strong as a boy so I can protect people from bad people!" she replied with determination.

"So, you want to become a Marine soldier?" summed up Zoro with an arch brow.

"No! I want to become someone people can rely on when they have problems! If there had been someone on my island, nobody would have suffered so much."

"Okay so you want to become a hero. What a good joke! Heroes share everything, even the advantages," he laughed at the child.

"Like what?"

"Let's say I'm a hero, if I had sake as a reward. I'd have to share it with everyone, but I'd rather keep it for myself. You got it now? You still want to be a hero now?"

"But I don't like sake, so it doesn't matter," Y/n innocently replied with a grimace.

"You didn't get it at all! Are you stupid or what?!"

"I-It's you who explained it badly!" blushed the child sensing that she was made fun of.

"What are you implying that I wouldn’t be a good teacher?!"

"Exactly!"

And they bickered constantly. However, Zoro let her be with him; the 'kid' didn't annoy him that much, and she reminded him a bit of Kuina, wanting to be as strong as a man. After a few days, he even prepared some weights for her to lift since his dumbbells were too heavy for the child. Why did he do that? He had noticed Y/n's longing gaze toward his swords. He deduced that she would like to fight with them someday. For that, she needed to build her strength first, so she could carry them without any problems. That's how Zoro became her 'teacher.'

Two weeks on the open sea, and the Straw Hats finally arrived at the new island. They made some quick purchases to survive until the next island and bid farewell to the girl as the ship sailed away from the port.

"Take care of yourself," advised Nami with a maternal instinct.

"Yes!"

"We'll see each other later Y/n!" the Straw Hat captain greeted with a smile.

"Yes, and I'll show you everything I've seen!" she declared determinedly.

"Hmm. You better keep training; otherwise, you won't even be able to lift a toothpick with those arms," Zoro announced.

"I'll show you my progress, and you'll be so surprised that you'll ask me to train you!" Y/n exclaimed.

"Oh yeah? Well, you better start training quickly. You still have a lot to see before you can scratch me!" Zoro grinned arrogantly.

"Goodbye, Mr. Cactus!" the child greeted, holding back her tears.

"Don't call me that, you little brat!" Zoro yelled, irritated.

As night fell, the swordsman couldn't sleep. He left the dormitory and sat against the Sunny's railing, gazing at the moon. "A twig like you, surpass me? Ha! I'm curious to see that!" he smiled.

#zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #One Piece #one piece scenarios #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #straw hat zoro #fluff #one piece fluff #mnemo mnemo no mi #one piece x reader

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pursuitseternal · 3 months

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“Coaxing:” update for “Our Blood is Thicker,” Astarion x Cordehlia 💞(f!Tav)

Astarion x Cordehlia (Tav) | E | 4.2K of romantic, smutty angst

Summary: Defeating the Orthon means Astarion gets the answer to his scar’s meaning, but thoughts of his lover’s mortality niggle harder than the worms in their brains… solutions hopefully present themselves, and soon.

CW: post-battle blood and bloodlust, manipulative devils, secret Profane Rites revealed, mortality angst, proposals (again… part 2)

Previous Ch | Ao3 link | masterlist

For @marimosalad and the brainworm we share 💞

Chapter 11: Coaxing

🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️

The air was still as Cordehlia opened her eyes. Not a bird chirp, not a soft rustle of breeze in the morning air or the caress of dew on the tent walls.

All was dead in these Shadow Cursed lands. But she never felt more alive. His hand already swept over her back, tender little strokes between her shoulder blades. His lips already smiled at her before her eyes even fluttered open. “Good morning, my love,” Astarion whispered, placing a slow and gentle kiss on her lips.

She slid herself closer, raising from where she was tucked into his side to lean across the spanse of his chest. “I love you,” she returned his little kiss with one of her own.

“I love you,” he breathed back into her lips. “And I hope you never tire of hearing that for the rest of your life, Cordehlia.”

“Never,” she cupped her hands on either side of his face. Her touch was warm, gentle, sending all the love in her heart straight into his own, undead as it may be. And his heart panged in dread.

She was worn out, right so, he laughed inwardly, watching her rest her sleepy head back on his shoulder, her eyes fluttering back shut. He had put her through her many, varied paces— and she, him.

He felt her living breath tickling over his skin, listened to every beat of that heart in her chest, calm. And alive. His gut twisted, and not in hunger. In fear. In horror. She would hear his words, feel his love for the rest of her life… but what then. What would be in store for him once she…

No, he stopped. He had to refrain from weighing the fact that outliving his mortal love would only be justice for leaving her long ago. Centuries damned to the same grief, the same loss. Only this time, she would be truly gone. And he would only have memories to comfort him.

The insides of his eyes stung, tears pricking them, tears he wished would disappear.

There had to be something he could do… for her if not for him.

To keep her with him. To bind her to his very being. To give himself to her until the sun itself melted.

He had failed her once, despite the haze over those memories… This time, he would never leave her. There had to be a way. No matter the cost.

“What’s the matter?” she murmured against his chest. “I can feel your tension, Astarion.”

“What happens when I lose you, darling…” He lets the question hang in the air. She lets it too, her arms gripping tighter around his middle, letting the gravity and grief of his words settle into her own bones.

“You won’t,” she whispered, turning her head to face him. There was an edge to her gaze, a sharpness of determination. Exacting. Fearsome. Astarion loved it. A glimmer of his Corvus, he suspected.

“My little raven is going to keep even the enemy of death at bay?” he crooned, caressing her cheek, his pride and arousal at those two intimidating words passing through his touch.

Something at the corners of her eyes hardened, something behind her eyes brightened as her breath grew heavier. “Not even death will keep me from you again, now that I’ve found you once more… now that you… love me again.”

Those last words, they were honey on her lips, nectar of the gods. He couldn’t help but press his mouth to her, hungry to suck that sweetness right off them. Noise crescendoed from outside his tent, clattering pans, muted voices—the others waking.

But ahe was in his arms, and they were already roused from sleep and aroused beyond fear. And he would not wait until night once more to feed on her or reward her for that ferocity and possessiveness once more.

That day, his thoughts of dreading her death hung close to his consciousness. Every trial, every fight, he remained at her side, close enough to guard her back and heal her the moment an arrow so much as grazed her tender flesh.

Blood soaked, gore dripping from their armor and pooling at their feel, they finally took stock of their last battle.

Exacting that demand from the devil. His enemy, the Orthon, lay dead on the floor. And every one of her party panted, drained of energy but elated all the same.

It had been grueling, but they survived. He looked at her beside him. They had all survived.

Astarion prodded his red-skin corpse with the toe of his boot. “One payment exchanged for dark knowledge about what that bastard did to my back,” he turned to Cordehlia, her boots deep in muddy viscera. Her eyes searching his face for her hard-earned reward. “Thank you,” he purred, pulling her flush against his body by the curve of her ass.

“Don’t thank us yet,” Wyll shook his head, cleaning his own blade. “Wait and see if the devil holds up his end of the bargain.” He snorted, both eyes narrowed as he looked up at them. “It’ll be a cold day in Avernus if he tells you everything you need to know. Weigh Raphael’s words carefully, elves, or you might end up selling more than your souls…” he stood from his crouching. “…Please, we all love a good romance. Don’t sour it with greed or by being unwary.”

“When have I ever been selfish, Wyll?” Astairon put on that perfectly innocent expression, hand splayed on his chest, brows raised high above his wet, wide eyes.

No one replied, not with words. A chorus of disgruntled groans just fill the dank cavern as they leave. Astarion just clung to Cordehlia’s waist, savoring the say her armored body clashed against his own. “Darling, was it something I said?”

“No, of course not,” she smirked, her voice rife with sarcasm, though she knew it was what he sought.

“Camp has never sounded so good. I’m thoroughly exhausted, my love,” he leaned in to whisper the next bit for her pointed ears alone, “but fret not, I still have enough energy remaining to… celebrate our victory just the two of us.”

“Hmmm,” she purred in reply, easing herself from the way he gripped her tighter. “Let’s see if or when Raphael should reappear. Gods forbid he catches us with our pants down again…”

“I’m sure it would be quite educational for anybody, even a devil…” his laugh tickled her ear, his gauntleted hand raising to smack her backside once made her armor clang.

“I heard that!” Gale called from just in front of them. He didn’t even need to turn around for them to hear his eyes roll.

“I should hope everyone heard that,” the vampire gloated in reply. “You’ll hear a lot more…”

Another chorus of groans deafened the rest of his provocative discussion.

“They’re worse than newlyweds on their honeymoon,” Wyll whispered to their Druid.

Halsin chuckled back, “They’re worse than displacer beasts during mating season.”

“You’re hopeless,” Cordehlia chided, letting herself be caressed and pulled hard against his side regardlessly.

“Actually, for once, I have hope,” Astarion spoke, softer, more assured. Genuine. “And it’s thanks to you, my lovely Cordehlia.”

She froze in her tracks, looking into those sharp lines of his face to see them soft, wide and sincere. All her words dried on her lips, his mouth twitched, the same for him. Her chest felt tight, her stomach fluttering. And all she could do was smile like a fool.

A fool in love.

It was late, and the two elves had sworn, on both sets of pointed ears, they would keep watch in the dark for their fiendish friend… waiting for Raphael to hold his end of their bargain. And while no one believed they wouldn’t be openly rutting while they waited, the rest of the party was too exhausted to truly care what happened between them once their eyes were shut.

The fire crackled, and Cordehlia made certain they were, in fact, not caught with their pants down. Not for a lack of effort and zeal on her vampire’s behalf. But she resisted all his flirtatious attempts, pulling her into his lap to feel just how hard he was for her, breathing on the back of her neck… all in vain for now. He put on a smile, keeping his hands mostly to himself, even if she could see the pronounced bulge through his leathers. But something kept her keen, watchful. Almost as if she could smell the sulfur gathering, the pinpricks of eyes watching from the shadows.

As if the devil was waiting… hoping for more of a show once again. But their love was too precious to be put on display like that. Not for him. No matter how helpful the devil seemed to be.

Finally, once she leaned into Astarion’s shoulder, letting his arm wrap tightly around her, his skilled fingers slowly starting to caress one breast in his palm…. she heard a single footfall close by.

“I was thinking you two would be… vigorously celebrating the Orthon’s defeat by now. I was so hoping to interrupt,” that velvet baritone rippled from over their shoulders.

Astarion stood first, confident and ready to accept his reward. “We have upheld our end of the bargain, devil,” he smirked slightly. Crossed arms and spread legs making him seem all the more confident.

“And I shall uphold mine, little vampling, for those scars on your back tell such a delicious tale of woe, of the lure of power, and the betrayal of… well,” Raphael paused, those hard ridges of his face twisting even more devilishly. “Perhaps I get ahead of myself, it is rather a grim tale. But one that most assuredly defines your destiny.”

The way his eyes shot between them both gave Cordehlia pause. Something was here, something more than just a story or an answer. Something that could bring about both their destinies. “Tell us,” she chimed in, commanding and exacting as ever. “Why Infernal runes for scars? What business does Cazador have with the hells?”

“Oh, it’s more than business, my Lady Corvus, it is a total shift in allegiances and alliances to dominate Faerûn forever. Cazador Szarr is not the only powerful force in Baldur’s Gate, and those scars on your lover’s ivory skin are the last remaining key to unlocking total domination over the undead in this realm….” The devil paused, watching.

Cordehlia caught her love’s face from the corner of her eye, catching his hand in hers. He felt tight, wound like a trap ready to spring. His ears twitched at the sound of power, body rigid to hear it would be his master’s. “Go on, Raphael,” she smiled, “we have little time for half tales and riddles.”

“Then I’ll tell you all, out of my devotion to you, my lovely lady, all about the Rite of Profane Ascension. Long ago, Cazador Szarr made a deal with the archdevil Mephistopheles to gain unlimited power for his kind. All of his spawn and a handful of other souls to be sacrificed in exchange for the rite so deliciously diabolical, so overflowing with an influx of total, dominating power, no Vampire in the world could resist the temptation to take it for themselves.”

She could feel it, the clutch of his hand on hers even tighter, the pull of his own desire, as if his mouth watered to hear the promise of all that power.

“As Vampire Ascendant, all of man’s desires and appetites will be restored. His reflection, his beating heart will be his again. What’s more, he won’t need a tadpole in his skull to walk in the sun, and…” Raphael paused. He changed his stance to one much more… friendly. Familiar. His hands clasped before him, his shoulders bending towards them both. “Should Cazador Szarr gain all this power, he would not make a good ally against the Absolute, against Ketheric or the other conspirators that seek to dominate souls in this world….”

“And this poses a problem for you in your quaint little circle of hell, does it not, Raphael….” Astarion’s interjection, so perceptive and sharp, caught even the devil before them off guard. “That’s why you sought us out from the beginning, isn’t it? Not to heal our tadpoles or take our souls, or to even offer your hollow praise to my beloved?”

Astarion paused, letting go of her hand, striding a step forward with total confidence. A sway, a swagger as he closed the distance on Raphael. “You need me to stop him…” he grinned wickedly, “for your own benefit as much as mine, as much as Cordehlia’s.”

Raphael merely shrugged. “Whatever happens, happens my friends. I just know that by potentially helping you, I may have given aide to the next most powerful Vampire in the realms… all that power, and no one to take it seems like an awful waste…”

The devil’s smile only widened as his eyes fell on Cordehlia. “And, I hear that lovers don’t last when one is undying and the other… well,” he shrugged again. “Just think of all the possibilities a Vampire Lord possesses for… creation, if you catch my meaning.”

It was a stake in his ribs, the tantalizing incentive to make her… his. Forever. The thought stuck, sharp and lodged in his brain like a thorn in his thoughts, his lips pursed silent as the devil finally dispersed.

He was silent as she pulled him into the darkness of his tent. Their tent. And even as she lifted her own tunic, baring her whole body for him, even as her hands began to tug his off that ruinously handsome frame, he just watched with sharp eyes. Quiet but for a few little noises of approval. Cordehlia squinted, stopping for the moment.”What are your thoughts, Astarion? It’s not like you to be so silent for so long.”

His head hung, watching her hands settle his shirt back down. And even that made his stomach twist into unending knots. “It’s… a tantalizing offer, my love.” He finally commented, forcing his voice full of its usual satin.

“It’s not even half of what you deserve, you know…” she whispered. As if she feared the power of her words. “Though… a handful of souls to be sacrifice does seem vague. As long as yours isn’t one of them.”

“Hmmm,” he paused. “It will take some planning, and chaos… and luck.” He grinned at her, eyes scanning the way she sat on her knees, breasts pert and pink and just waiting for him. It made him lick his lips, the words of her approval sinking deeper than his bones. “And most importantly, it will take you by my side.”

She smiled just slightly, brows furrowed in deep thought, and then she opened her mouth. “What did he mean by a vampire lord’s powers of creation?” she asked, hesitant and unsure for once.

Astarion forced himself not to look away, not to look down at the body he worshiped more than any gods. Forcing himself to only gaze straight ahead in those bright silver eyes. Uncertainty stung in his gut at how she might accept such knowledge. “Vampire Lords have the powers to turn the living into the undead. Spawn are made to be slaves, obedient servants in every sense, compelled to follow the slightest whim,” his words sounded from between grit teeth. His own burden and suffering imbued in his tone.

She said nothing, only resting the warm, supple palm of her hand on his bent knee. A small gesture, but one that eased the suffering instantly piqued.

He breathed before continuing. “Vampire Lords can also create other vampires, draining the living of all their blood and then bestowing their own in return. The effect is to create a full-blooded, equally powerful, potentially threatening creature just like themselves. But…” he paused, frozen by her searching gaze. His swallow gagged him. His hand less than steady as he let one of his rest atop where she still touched him. “There is a third creation, equally connected to their maker as if they were a spawn, equally powerful and free as if they were a Vampire Lord or Mistress in their own right.”

Cordehlia shivered, and not from the cold. This seemed so familiar, the way he said so much and yet nothing important. Or at least not the most important parts. The way he had once danced around asking for her hand, her own youth and innocence too sweet to know just what desires ran under his always-pale skin. His veiled questions… his obtuse flirtations… she had no clue what he had intended for her long ago truly until he finally accompanied her down to the stream that day, saying she would be his, one way or another… Until he feigned returning back home, only to be caught watching her down by the river…

When he first sought to make her his bride.

That word stuck in her brain, striking some long forgotten knowledge of vampiric creatures…

“You speak of the Bride,” she breathed.

One brow twitched as it arched, his lips turning softly. Wistfully. “What if… what if I am able to amend my past transgressions? What if…”

Her hand raised, fingers pressing against his moving lips so quickly. “Don’t say it unless you mean it, Astarion,” she whimpered, voice catching in her throat. All the sharpness of a sob beginning. “I won’t survive again if…”

“I do mean it,” he said, mouth moving fast, but his arms moved faster. He was always faster with his body, his words, his thoughts always playing catch-up. He pulled her flush against his body, laying her down on the mess of pillows and blankets beneath them. His poor excuse for a bed. He said nothing more, letting the warmth of her figure flood into him, seeping through the linen of his ruffled shirt and the supple leather of his trousers. “I mean it, Cordehlia Aquilae, my future… bride.”

But she kept still against his side, her face turned to bury into that valley of his chest and stomach. It was only once her tears had pooled in his center did he even realize she was crying. Her hand fisted against her face, hiding her eyes as she finally took a shaking inhale.

“Oh shit,” he held his own breath. “Did I do something wrong? Say something wrong?”

“No,” she instantly turned that tear-streaked face towards him. Her pale skin mottled from crying, even her silver eyes peered through the gathering puffiness. “I’ve… been longing for this for so long. It, it just must be too good to be true.”

“I’m not leaving you this time,” he rasped, trying hard to reassure her with little caresses of his hand in her hair, coaxing her further. Coaxing her closer. “You said… I’ve seen… in the past, my ambitions stole me away.”

She nodded, swallowing so hard, he could feel it against his stomach.

“This time, my darling Cordehlia, I’m taking you with me,” he purred, stroking a single finger under her quivering chin. Beckoning her to his smirking mouth. “Now… I think I’d like to take you now, too. As if you could lie that perfect body against me, expecting me to resist the temptation.” He shook his head as she slid over him. “Tch,” he purred deeper again, crooking a finger in her face to beckon her all the more. “Come here, and don’t make me coax you more, my sweet… my betrothed.”

She shuddered and thrilled, splaying her legs around his hips, letting the smoothness of his leathers slip beneath her folds. “Always so quick to forget your manners, not that you were ever fluent in using it in your vocabulary,” she chided, taking a moment to wipe her last tears with her shoulder.

“What are you going to do, train my tongue to be more endearing, more polite?”

“There are so many ways to coax out a please from your spoiled lips, Ancunìn,” she grinned, feeling that growing swell in his lap hardening.

“And it seems like we will have all of eternity to make me practice my tongue to your heart’s content,” he purred, leaning closer as she braced her arms about his neck. “Won’t you kiss me, after all…” he gave her a piercing, rakish grin, and Cordehlia doubted he would know it was the same that made her stomach flutter for years, for lifetimes. “…you are my intended, my betrothed.”

“And you are mine.” She felt a surge inside her, something fierce, something dark swirling from days of old. A need to protect. To fight for him. Or because of him. “Cazador will die,” she hissed, “All nine hells will freeze over before we let your old master claim any of that power… I won’t allow it, nor will you, my love.”

“Oh, I love when you snap your razor sharp beak, my little raven…” he crooned, hands sweeping down her sides to hook into the bend of her knees. He pulled her hard, clutching her hard as he thrust up into her. “But enough about him…. I’d rather make you spout such sweet little noises, make you cry my name from your lips…”

One hand splayed on his chest, the other gripped his from her leg to guide it, to coax it into the peak of her folds. “If you wish,” she simpered in reply. “I have many an idea of just how you could do that…”

He tilted his head, those silver locks of his shifting ever so slightly. “Well, darling, I’m all pointy ears to hear them…”

A sliver of their past sliced through her memories… “I want you to make me yours.”

“You already are, my love,” he arches a single brow, confusion wrapped tightly in intrigue and burning arousal.

“I’ve always been yours… but never your own, never forever,” she paused, biting her lip in her hesitation.

“That will all change once we rid ourselves of all this,” he pointed behind his back, splayed on the ground as he was. “But do no doubt for a moment that all of this is mine…” He brushed his touch under her chin, racing his touch down to sweep over her breasts, clutching one in his fingers to kneed it gently. His other hand slipped beneath her wet folds, letting the backs of his fingers graze into her as he tugs loose his breeches’ buttons. She shifted just enough to let him out, to flatten his cock fully into her cunt as she glided over its silken hard length. “And this,” he groaned, matching the buck of her hips just perfectly in time to sheathe himself inside her clenching heat, “this is yours… only yours. Whether you’re my bride yet or not, my darling, I’ll have none but you.”

The way her whole body shook on him, around him, it almost undid him right then and there. Her mouth hung slack, her body dipping down to cover him as she bucked and canted her hips. “Say it again… how I’m yours,” she moaned, the red of her hair falling over her shoulders, “how you’ll make me yours forever.”

“You will be mine…” he growled, one hand pulling at the back of her neck to bring her panting lips against his own. “Your delicious mouth, so eager to please, will be mine…” his hand slid to her cheek, sticking his thumb between her slack lips as he hooked it and tugged it against his own. He bit into her lips, just enough of his fang piercing her flesh to bring blood to their mouths.

Her own hunger flared, matching his kiss suck for suck and lick for lick. Hand clutched at the back of her head, he gripped her harshly, pulling her back and dragging his damp fangs over her neck. “This is mine, your blood will always be mine,” he growled, running his tongue over the scars and lingering wounds from his near constant indulgence of her blood.

“Bite,” she sighed, a slight drag of her hips over his length. “Tell me how I taste,” an order, sweetened in the thick tone of her voice.

He waited for no further invitation, sinking in his teeth in time with a buck of hips to sink himself deeper into her arousal.

Both drew a delicious groan from that throat between his lips as he sucked his fill. “Rich, powerful…” he mumbled between swallows of her essence. He could feel her swallow as he did, hear her breathing grow ragged as he feasted on that blood. A swirl of his tongue, he purred again, “Addictive, nourishing…”

That got her going, her hips driving against him blood from her neck dripping on the cream of his shirt. But even that couldn’t rile him. Fingers wound around both breasts, letting his nails drag into their swaying fullness. Making a little whimper of pain-laced pleasure spill from her lips. “All of you, Cordehlia, will be mine.”

Shattering, spasming, she crumpled into his chest, head braced against his own. Every muscle in her sculpted body gripped him, holding him tightly.

Never to lose him again.

Not like last time….

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waywardrose · 3 months

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THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY 28

stranger things

eddie munson x reader

rated e

spotify playlist

for @punk-in-docs

fem/witch/goth!reader, sweetheart!eddie, magic, slow burn (for me), friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, no y/n only pet names, series-typical horror, period-typical sexism and homophobia, historical inaccuracies and anachronisms, drug dealing and use, smoking, alcohol use, masturbation, mutual masturbation, fantasizing, one-bed trope, making out, fingering, dirty talk, chasing, oral sex, handjobs, condoms, piv sex, reader’s father is a dirtbag, mild spanking, magical violation, mental torture, body horror, blood, aftercare, nightmares, strict parenting, panic attack, past child abuse and abandonment, semi-public sex, break-ups, running away, guns, fist fighting, everyone survives, suicide ideation, fighting and making up

Eddie would have to wait until his lunch break to see this new, hot, weird chick. He wondered which flavor of weird she was. Art weird? Theater weird? Band weird? Weird weird? He shrugged. He liked weird. In other words, you’re the new girl in town, and Eddie is intrigued.

note: This is it, my dudes! The final chapter. No epilogue, because I don't think this story needs it. Thank you for all your comments, likes, and reblogs! Your support has kept me going. I'll post a masterlist directly.

Today’s volunteers had been abuzz with the news of Chief Jim Hopper’s miraculous return from the dead. The story was he’d uncovered a terrorist plot and worked with the government to thwart the radicals. Starcourt Mall had been the unfortunate backdrop of the confrontation.

It was also unfortunate a surviving radical had recognized Hopper. Since Hopper had been in danger, he’d been put in a protection program until the threat had been eliminated.

Rumor had it he’d been involved in defeating the rest of these radicals, who had something to do with Hawkins National Laboratory.

You didn’t bother to point out the specific government agency had been conveniently omitted. Same with the terrorist organization. Over sandwiches in the courtyard, Steve said Hawkins Lab had been closed for over a year when Starcourt’s fire occurred.

Nevertheless, while there had been casualties at Starcourt, they’d been few. Everyone considered Hopper a local hero.

A few volunteers discussed Eddie, too. They felt sorry for him and insisted they’d never believed those ugly rumors. Eddie was an orphan who’d been taken in by his uncle Wayne. Wasn’t that sad? Why, they’d known Wayne Munson for years! Wayne was an upright person. A veteran, too. There was no way he would’ve tolerated Devil-worship under his roof.

Those horrible classmates — bullies, really — must’ve targeted Eddie because he was different. Being different wasn’t a crime! Besides, Eddie had never hurt anyone. He performed at The Hideout with his little band all the time. One volunteer knew The Hideout’s owner, Cliff, who said Eddie was a good, if weird, kid.

You’d nodded and hummed in agreement while sorting donated home goods. There was no point in calling them hypocrites. Perhaps some of them weren’t. You wished you’d gone to that town hall meeting with your parents. Then you’d be able to pick out the liars.

On the way home in Steve’s car, Robin turned in the front seat to face you.

“You know, people want to be on the winning side. They like to think of themselves as smart enough to know who’s telling the truth.”

“But they were blinded by fear,” you said in agreement. “And looking for someone to blame.”

Steve said, “Like the pilgrims burning all the witches in Salem.”

You and Robin shared a look. He was close enough.

“Yup,” she said.

He appeared proud to have contributed to the conversation.

Robin rested her chin on her forearm.

“Eddie’s lucky you found him before anyone else.”

“Outside of the military, yeah, I guess.” You offered a bitter grin. “Who knows what they would’ve done to him if he’d survived Vecna.”

Though you don’t think he would have. Most likely, he would’ve dropped dead with the rest of the hivemind. If you hadn’t died from taking part of Vecna’s curse earlier, you might’ve shared that fate.

Steve said, “God, I’m so glad that fuckface’s dead.”

“Me too.”

“Me three,” Robin said with a grin.

Once at Steve’s, you three talked about dinner. Steve had pulled everything this morning to make a pan of baked ziti with roasted broccoli on the side. Robin made a disgusted face at the mention of a vegetable. You laughed at her scrunched nose and tongue poking out. Robin exclaimed eating broccoli was like eating green farts while Steve opened the front door.

Classical music played from the sunroom’s stereo system.

“Hey, Munson,” Steve said, projecting his voice as he tossed his keys into the bowl on the foyer table.

The music cut off, leaving a silence that felt as if you needed to pop your ears.

Robin kicked off her shoes and hung her jacket on an empty hanger in the closet. She reached for yours as Eddie jogged across the living room.

“Hey, good day?” He didn’t wait for a reply as he said to Steve, “I know this is a pain in the ass, but would you take me to my van? I want to do it before it gets dark. It’s on Coal Mill.”

“Dude, I gotta start dinner.”

Robin held up her hands when Eddie looked at her.

“No license. And the last time I tried to cook in that kitchen, I almost set everything on fire.”

Steve smirked.

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“Yeah? Tell that to your smoke detector that wouldn’t shut up for fifteen minutes.”

You snorted to hide the pang at being Eddie’s last choice and shrugged your jacket back onto your shoulders.

“I guess that leaves me.”

With a pat to your pockets, confirming you had your wallet and keys, you left the house. Eddie bumbled out the front door a minute later, swinging on a navy sport coat that was a size too big. It clashed with his green track pants and untied blue sneakers.

You kept your comments to yourself as you unlocked your car and got behind the wheel. Eddie sat in the passenger seat as you started the engine. The stereo came to life. The Sisters of Mercy simmered through the speakers. You hit the power button, cutting them off.

Sounding amused, Eddie said, “I haven’t heard that in a while.”

“I was in the mood for them the other day.”

“You can turn it back on, if you want.”

“No, it’s fine.” You shifted the car into Drive. “How do I get to Coal Mill?”

“Uh, take a left. We’ll go the back way.”

You nodded and pulled onto the street. He tied his sneakers. At the first intersection, he directed you to go left. The evening sun’s golden light flickered between the trees. This far from the nexus, the woods appeared unaffected by the poisonous ash. You mentioned it. Eddie asked how downtown was faring.

You lifted a shoulder.

“It’s like a war zone and a natural disaster had a horrible, mangled baby.”

He laughed. “Vivid.”

“There’re construction crews all over, and the school gets dusty overnight. We have to cover everything with sheets before we leave. People sleep with masks on.”

“What a nightmare.”

You nodded as you passed the turnoff to Sattler’s Quarry.

After that, the road narrowed and twisted. Eddie navigated you through more intersections and over train tracks. You passed farmhouses with fields of growing corn and pastures for cattle. He had you take a road into the woods where squat houses sat close together.

The road dead-ended with Coal Mill Road T-ing into it. Behind the houses, sunlight reflected off rippling water. He advised you to park in the gravel at the side of the road; his van wasn’t far. You found a wide, flat section and stopped the car. The peaceful neighborhood didn’t seem the place to stash a van.

You then recognized the house reflected in the rearview mirror as the one from the broadcast identifying Eddie as a suspect. That had been a shitty day. Even for you.

Eddie opened the passenger door. You blinked out of the memory, unlatched your seatbelt, and got out of the car. He was quiet as you came to his side. His grim face had you reaching for his hand.

He stiffened at the touch.

You recoiled and looked away. Rather than the quiet hurt you expected, though you were hurt, this white-hot feeling spread through you. Your jaw locked and vision narrowed. Each inhale became deliberate. You wanted to claw at his pretty face.

“Okay, what the hell is your problem?”

That pretty face became dismissive, and he stepped onto the road towards the woods.

Over his shoulder, he asked, “What do you mean, what’s my problem?”

“You’re…” You struggled to find a word as you followed, but the only one came. “Skittish. I don’t know.”

“I’m not skittish.”

A few yards down from your car, he separated two shrubs to reveal parallel tire ruts in the grass.

“You are!” You waved a hand at his back. “You are. You won’t sit next to me. You won’t touch me. Not that I expect you to be all over me, but you don’t reach for me.”

He stepped between the shrubs and held one back for you.

“I—”

“I take your hand, you flinch.” You tramped into the underbrush and onto a rut. “I sit next to you, you make sure there’s plenty of space between us. I make a move, and it’s always wrong.”

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” he said, letting the shrub go.

“Really?”

He went to the other rut. You stopped to glare at him.

Did he not see the irony of maintaining four feet of distance?

“Really?”

“I…” He frowned, though he continued walking. “I don’t want to crowd you.”

“Eddie, you’ve had your dick in me.” You resumed walking. “And I’ve never pushed you away.”

In fact, you had only pushed him away when he’d been under Vecna’s control. When it was just the two of you, the thought never crossed your mind.

He sighed.

“I’ve needed space.”

“Then tell me that. I don’t want you to feel pressured.” That heat inside you vanished. “You’re not obligated to… to do anything.”

“No, it’s not that.” He stopped and glanced at you. “I haven’t felt like myself since…”

“Yeah.”

“No, not like— It’s like…” He sighed again, his face twisting up. “There’s this emptiness.”

What could you say to that? You wouldn’t diminish his experience by saying plenty of people felt that. His was different. It wasn’t anything one could ignore or fill. You remembered dissolving into silence, and how it had swallowed everything.

You said softly, “Like a hunger.”

He met your gaze. In the sepia light and dusty shade, his brown eyes appeared darker and more vulnerable than you’d ever seen them.

“I don’t want it to touch you.”

You shook your head.

“It’s not a stranger.”

He looked away, into the trees, chin quivering. The tip of his nose turned pink. You wanted to kiss it, kiss him, make it better somehow. You took a hesitant half-step to take his hand, at least, but he walked farther into the woods.

With a deep breath, you followed a couple paces behind. The ruts curved around a dead pine and disappeared behind a thicket. Eddie knelt at the far side of the pine to dig into the rust-colored needles. An old camouflage net covered his boxy van from roof to tires.

You pushed up your sleeves while circling the van.

As you came around, he said, “Look, I know you’re too smart to believe the shit Vecna said.” He pulled something from the needles. “But I want… I want you to hear it from me—”

“Eddie.” You shook your head again. “That’s—”

“No, let me get this out. Every shitty thing he said — I said — was a lie.” The metallic jingle of keys punctuated his statement. “I don’t believe any of it. I never thought it.”

While you didn’t doubt Eddie, there was a part of you that wondered if Vecna was right. You were privileged. Your parents could afford to send you to any college. They’d even set up a savings account for you. You didn’t have to worry about a part-time job. You had a car. You’d been protected from the banal cruelty in the world. You’d taken so much for granted over the years. On top of that, you were a witch.

He straightened and looked at you.

“I don’t know how to prove it. All I got is my word.”

“No, no, I believe you,” you said, holding up your hands.

“I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

“What?”

“You saved me, sweetheart.” A corner of his mouth quirked. “Kinda feels like a blood debt.”

You grinned.

“Is that a real thing?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“I don’t know, but, Eddie…” You drew closer to him. “You owe me nothing. You’ll never owe me.”

The keys rattled in his hand. His gaze darted away.

You continued, “I know what I did spooked you, but I did it because I love you. And it’s okay if you don’t…”

You couldn’t finish the sentence. It was hard to breathe or think or control the swelling sob in your chest. A tear rolled down your cheek, and you swiped it away.

Eddie’s head tilted in sympathy, lips thinning. He stepped near and offered his empty hand. It was the first time he’d done that in days.

Your vision prismed with fresh tears as you grasped his hand. The callused pads of his fingers scuffed against your skin. Your sob transformed into a long exhale.

“Vecna took you from me,” you said, and sniffed back the wet clog in your nose and wiped at your eyes. “I did it because you’re mine. Because he hurt us — hurt me.” You barked a laugh. “Now that I say it out loud, I hear how fucking selfish I am.”

You met his red-rimmed eyes. He shook his head like he couldn’t accept you were selfish. Regardless of his belief, you were, but you’d try not to be with him.

You whispered, “Even if we don’t stay together, you’ll never owe me. You’ll always be special to me.”

He tugged you near and put your palm on his sternum with his hand covering yours. His chest rose and fell because he’d pushed Vecna out, because you’d brought him back. That was something you’d never regret.

His voice was a hoarse whisper as he said, “I love you too, and you didn’t spook me. Don’t… don’t hide from me.”

As gently as you could, you said, “I’m not the one who’s been hiding.”

He stared at your stacked hands.

“Jesus Christ, I’ve been fucking up so goddamn bad.” He shook his head, his hair obscuring part of his face. “I hadn’t protected you. God, I actually hurt you. I can’t give you what you deserve. I can’t even fucking graduate.”

If his last statement was an obstacle, you would’ve tripped over it.

He couldn’t graduate? That made no sense. Nothing was official yet, of course, but Dr. Owens hadn’t balked at the party’s insistence of all the seniors graduating. Had no one told him? Hadn’t it been mentioned in conversation?

“Wait,” you said, trying to remember if anyone had brought it up.

He watched you from under his bangs, eyes so fawn-like, a little furrow between his brows.

You said, “I thought Steve told you about the party’s demands.”

He angled his head.

“No…?”

“One was all the seniors graduating, regardless of standing.” You took hold of his coat’s lapel. “What did you have in O’Donnell’s?”

“A low D.”

“D’s passing.” You grinned. “You’re graduating, anyway, but you passed her class. That’s all you needed, right?”

His eyes went wide and lips parted as he nodded. You glanced at his full bottom lip while scraping your own between your teeth. You hadn’t kissed him in ages.

You stepped closer and slid your hand from his lapel.

“Congratulations,” you said before rising and pressing your lips to his.

He gasped. His lips dragged against yours. Then he jolted, pulling away.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Why would you hurt me?”

His gaze slithered from your lips to your neck to the neckline of your shirt in an invisible touch.

“What if I lose control?”

You studied his worried face in the dimming light.

“Is it the emptiness?” you asked.

He nodded, casting his gaze to the side.

You remembered how predatory Eddie had looked with the MP’s blood on his chin. That hadn’t been Eddie. Not entirely. That had been the hivemind of bloodthirsty carnivores.

“Is it…” You didn’t know how to be tactful with this. “Do you want my blood?”

His tongue worked in his mouth, licking his canine, before he said, “I don’t know.”

You cradled his jaw over the scar and eased his head forward. His focus remained to the side.

“Please, look at me.”

His irises swung to meet yours. A flicker of sunlight illuminated them cinnamon sweet. His dark lashes fluttered as he blinked.

“I know you don’t want to hurt me,” you said. “But if you want to try—”

His posture went rigid as he shook his head. His hand pressed yours tighter to his chest.

“No.”

You pressed on.

“If you want to try my blood, I’ll let you.” You grazed the corner of his mouth with your thumb. “I’m not scared.”

He closed his eyes, mouth pinching and brows furrowing.

“Honey, don’t be scared.” You stroked his cheek to his clenched jaw. “It’s just me and you here.”

“Yeah, it’s just me and you.”

You sighed.

“What, you think you can kill me? You think I’d let you? You think I don’t know my limits?”

He opened his eyes, which blazed with anger and frustration and panic.

“What if I don’t know mine anymore, huh?”

Gritting your teeth, you said, “Then we’ll discover them together.”

With your hand on his chest, you pushed him towards the van. He bumbled backwards, dropping the keys. His back collided with a dull clunk. You slid your hand from his chest to the van, boxing him in, and pressed your front along his.

“Fucking trust me.”

“I do.”

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

He nodded, throat bobbing with a swallow.

“Are you sure?”

Again, he nodded.

You closed the distance with a hand on his nape. He angled his head, lips moving counter to yours. The kiss stole your breath and thought. You ravaged, biting his bottom lip. His hands cupped your ass and drew you against him. He plundered, groaning as your tongues slid over each other.

Teeth scraped your lip, yet it didn’t frighten you. Let them break skin. You didn’t care.

Trembling hands snuck under your shirt. He pulled at your waist, making your back arch. You mewled into the kiss and plunged your fingers into his messy hair. His tentative palms skimmed up your back.

You shivered as your nipples pebbled.

You broke the kiss to whisper, “Touch me. It’s okay. I trust you.”

His eyes gleamed as he drew his swollen bottom lip between his teeth. He spread his feet and maneuvered you between his knees. The firm mound of his erection pressed into your belly. He trailed his hands down to your ass. His fingers met at the central seam of your jeans.

“You’re so hot here.”

“Because of you.”

He caught your lips in another kiss. You gripped his hair as the woods went fuzzy. His hands, more confident, skated up your ass, under your shirt, and up your sides. Cool air swept over your skin. You inhaled as he found the band of your unsexy bra. The earlier work at the school hardly warranted anything fancy.

Eddie didn’t seem to mind. A hungry noise came from his chest as he fondled the underside of your breasts through the bra. He sucked on your bottom lip, and the sensation flowed through you like water. Your nipples tightened further. Your cunt clenched.

“God, you’re so soft.”

You caressed the warm skin at his nape, saying, “I’ve missed you.”

Without waiting for a response, you kissed him. His fingers dragged across your breasts until he pinched your nipples between his thumbs and sides of his palms.

You gasped at the wicked frisson, angled your face up to catch your breath, and writhed. You pressed your hips to his, the thick seam of your jeans rasped between your legs. He rocked his erection against you. New heat zinged down to your toes.

Voice husky, he said, “Fuck, I missed you, too.”

He kissed the side of your neck. Each kiss became more open-mouthed. His tongue moved as if he tasted more than your skin. He pulled his sharp teeth across the big tendon in your neck, like he was teasing you both. The threat of a bite had your heart beating double-time and eyes rolling back.

He pinched your nipples harder, making your lower body squirm from the ache. You kept your chest and neck still as you waited to feel what he’d do. He groaned and mouthed his way to the artery under your jaw. He sucked hard at the skin there, mouth scalding. You gasped at the delicious pain.

“Jesus,” he said between pants against the sore spot.

As his saliva cooled on your skin, you swooped down to kiss him once more. His tongue slid over yours as his hands left your breasts. You held his head in place by the hair, losing yourself to the decadent back and forth.

He folded his arms around you when you held his smooth cheek. There was no panic here. There were no monsters. It was only you and him, sharing breath and touch.

“How do you feel?” you asked.

“Good.”

You stroked his cheekbone.

“That’s all that matters.”

“I didn’t… freak you out there?”

“By giving me a hickey?” You smiled with a chuckle. “No.” You brushed your lips against his. “I like wearing your mark.”

His cheeks pinked further. He made a happy sound and buried his face in your neck once more.

“Gonna give me another one, baby?”

Muffled against your skin, he said, “I might.”

Tightening your hold in his hair, you pulled his head back. He looked at you with hazy eyes. His red lips parted, breaths shallow.

“Gorgeous,” you said.

His gaze drifted to the side. He wanted to shy away, but you wouldn’t have it.

“You act like I haven’t seen you, but I have.” You traced the scar on his jaw. “And nothing’s changed for me.”

He met your eyes, his own bright with conviction.

“Me neither, I swear, milady.”

You smiled at the endearment you hadn’t heard in too long.

“Then no more hot-and-cold, good sir.”

He nodded as much as he could.

“I’m with you.”

“No half-assed crap, either. I mean it, Eddie,” you said, relinquishing your grip on his hair and lacing your fingers behind his neck.

His spine straightened as if coming to attention.

“Whole-ass-ing it from here on out.”

“Good, I like your ass.”

“I like yours, too.”

His eyes lit with mischief, reminding you of the Eddie you’d first met. The one who quoted the Scorpions during roll call, who always answered the phone, who howled during concerts.

A hand gripped the underside of your ass-cheek and gave it a squeeze. It put to mind him holding you against the cold wall behind The Hideout and fucking you with hungry desperation. You wanted that with him.

“Wanna go home and prove it?” you asked with a quirk of an eyebrow.

He gave you a toothy grin.

“Absolutely.”

He didn’t release you, nor you him, despite the blue of the sky having faded to ginger and blushing violet. Rose-gold sunlight graced the tree tops. Once gentle shadows were now hard-edged and inky.

You liked the heat radiating from under his thin t-shirt and all the evidence he was alive. He’d survived. You had as well. He must’ve had a similar idea, because he surveyed you with loving eyes.

You swayed.

“Let’s go, Muffin Man.”

He groaned and let his head flop back.

“I swear to God, that’s adorable when we were high, but you cannot say that in front of our friends.”

“Not even—”

His head shot up.

“No.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” you said with an exaggerated pout.

“Oh, well, please continue, sweet lady.”

“I was going to say, not even—” You imitated his dramatics as you said, “The Muffin of Demonic Charm!?”

He laughed. “I only like the ‘muff’ part of that.”

You backed away with a giggle, sticking out your tongue. His hands went to the sides of his head, pointer fingers out, and stuck his tongue out at you.

You said, “You won’t get any part of that out here.”

He fluttered the tip of his tongue.

“Tempting, but no.”

He spread the sport coat and posed like a centerfold to entice, hip canting to the side and his chest arched.

“Oh, if only I had a camera, baby.” You found the forgotten keys amongst the pine needles and dead leaves. “You’d make Goodwill a lot of money in their annual calendar,” you said and tossed the keys at him.

He straightened to catch them, juggling them to his chest.

“I’ll have you know—” He swept his empty hand down his body. “—all of this is House of Harrington.”

“How chic.”

“Very exclusive.” He pointed to the corner of the van for you to help gather the netting. “Not just anyone can say they’ve worn Steve Harrington’s tighty whities.”

You laughed and lifted the corner of the netting.

Together, you uncovered the van. Eddie gathered the netting and kicked it under the thicket before going to the passenger door to open it for you.

“I’ll drop you off at your car.”

You thanked him and climbed into the stuffy van. The scent of old smoke, warmed plastic, and upholstery seasoned with boy invaded your nose. You rolled the window down halfway after he closed the door.

With a glance at the vacant back, you thought of Corroded Coffin’s equipment there. You’d seen little of Jeff, Gareth, or Dougie at school. You hadn’t asked Eddie if they still played at The Hideout. You hadn’t asked him about a lot of things. There was so much you’d missed since New Year’s.

Eddie opened the driver-side door and hopped in. He made a face, then rolled down his window.

He turned all the air-system controls off, saying, “Cross your fingers she’ll cooperate.”

He shoved the key in the ignition and turned it. The engine sputtered and whined and chugged until something aligned, and it roared to life. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, throwing you a laugh.

You smiled back and fastened your seatbelt.

He shifted into Reverse and maneuvered away from the thicket. The tires spun in the layer of pine needles and budding grass before finding traction. The van lurched forward. You hung onto the seatbelt and prayed the van wouldn’t get stuck. It was too old for off-roading. He steered onto the ruts, tires kicking up dirt as they bit into the earth.

Your prayers were unnecessary or maybe something out there listened to you, because a minute later the van was on the pavement and next to your car.

“Your noble steed, milady.”

With a smirk, you said, “I thought that was you, stud.”

He leaned in, eyes sparking.

“I’m at your beck and call.”

You bent close enough to feel his breath on your lips.

“Get me home, sir, and I’ll show my appreciation for your fealty.”

His eyes darted to your lips.

“I can do that.”

Tilting your head as if to kiss him, you said, “I know you can,” and moved away to unfasten your seatbelt.

His head drooped.

He looked at you when you opened the door, expression amused.

You said, “Don’t go too fast, honey, wouldn’t want to get pulled over.”

“Depends on who’s doing the pulling over, sweetheart.”

You smiled, shaking your head at the cheesy line, and left the van. His attention stayed on you as you crossed to your car, like fingers trailing down your spine.

Once in the car, you made a U-turn and followed him to Steve’s. Eddie was something of a lead-foot, but you could keep up easily. He parked in front of the garage at Steve’s. You stopped next to him and locked up.

He met you at your trunk and offered his elbow.

“Not too fast for you?”

You snaked your arm around his bicep.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

He hummed in agreement as he walked with you to the front door.

“Um, I know this is out of left field,” you said, “but I thought about the rest of the band. I hadn’t seen them at school, except in the hallways sometimes. Like, I don’t share any classes with Jeff or Dougie.”

“Last time I saw them was during the last Hellfire meeting.”

“Maybe you should call them? Now that your name’s cleared, it’s safe for all of you.”

“I don’t know…”

“They’re probably worried about you.” You squeezed his arm. “And unlike me, they can’t use magic to track down your ass.”

He bobbed his head once.

“I’ll call them tomorrow.”

“Good.”

You stopped him before he could make his way to the front door. He turned to you, gaze searching.

The blue hour painted him in shades of purple. Warm light from the porch sconces and nearby kitchen window caught in the waves of his hair. He was a fallen angel, halo stripped yet seraphic nature undeniable.

That felt like a line from someone more imaginative. You were no poet, though you wished you were.

Softly, he asked, “What is it?”

You shook off the thought and grinned.

“Nothing, I just… I just like you like this.”

He glanced at himself before giving you a wry look.

“In borrowed clothes with dirty hands?”

“No, butthead.” You jostled him by the arm. “I like you here — with me.”

That wry look disappeared. His eyes rounded, earnest and affectionate. He drew you in with a gentle hand on your nape and kissed you. His lips were tender on yours in silent relief, as though you’d surprised him. While he’d withdrawn after Vecna’s defeat, and you’d been uncertain about a future with him, you still loved him. That had never changed.

You threw yourself into the kiss, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Blood rushed through your veins. Your cheeks burned as the kiss deepened. His other hand clutched your hip to guide you against him.

It was easy to lose yourself with him. It was easy to love him, and he made it easy to let yourself be loved.

He cradled the back of your head like you were priceless. He held you like he couldn’t get close enough. The mark on your neck was a brand of sweet possession.

At an inevitable pause, you said, “Let’s go inside.”

“I can’t sit through dinner.” With a small shake of his head, he said, “I can’t wait.”

“Then we won’t. We’ll go straight to your room.”

“What about…?” He gave you a meaningful look. “Condoms?”

“I got it covered.”

“Sounds like I’ll be saying that later.”

You laughed, playfully shoving at his shoulder. He looked pleased with himself and trotted to the front door. Hand on the doorknob, he glanced back to make sure you were behind him.

You whispered, “Wait,” and drew energy up your body. It had been so long since you’d obfuscated your presence to sneak around, you’d nearly forgotten it as an option. You laced your fingers with Eddie’s, including him in the silent bubble you created.

“Keep close and avoid making too much noise.”

He nodded before easing the door open.

A top-40s station played on the radio in the sunroom. Robin and Steve’s voices floated from the kitchen. They remained out of sight even after you gently shut the door.

You directed Eddie to the stairs and remained a tread behind him as you both climbed. Once on the second floor, you ushered him to his room. He left the door ajar and lights off. You padded to your room, pocketed the couple of condom packets you’d stolen days ago from Steve’s nightstand, and slunk to Eddie’s room.

He sat at the head of the bed, blanket hiding his lower half with his t-shirt covering the upper. You closed the door and locked it. By the meager light coming through the window, you found the nearest lamp and clicked it on.

“You okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, sure, fine, why?”

The sport coat and track pants draped across the armchair. The sneakers and socks lay jumbled by the bathroom door.

“Just asking.”

You crossed the room and set the condom packets on the nightstand at Eddie’s side. He remained motionless, hands hidden in the rumpled sheets. You perched at the edge of the bed while he stared at the condoms.

Something was off. He should be flirting or reaching for you. What had happened between kissing you, saying he couldn’t wait to be with you, and now? Most guys would be naked and panting like a dog for sex.

With a minute shrug, you said, “If you don’t want to…”

“No! No, I do. Trust me, I do.”

“But…?”

He exhaled.

“I don’t… You should know, I don’t look the same.”

“I’ve seen you in only a towel. I’m aware of what you look like.”

“That’s not up close and personal.”

“You think I’m going to run screaming from some scars?”

He said, “Look, baby, I’m a horror show under this,” and plucked at the t-shirt.

You let out an exasperated sound. “Are you trying to push me away? Again?”

“No—”

“Do you not want me?”

“Oh my god, I want you.” He scooted to you and cupped your face. “I’ve wanted you for weeks. Months!”

“Well, me too!” You held one of his wrists. “Anything you got under there is gonna work for me, okay?”

He scanned your face, gaze roaming from your eyes to your lips and back.

The protective blessing you’d placed in his handkerchief had failed you — and him. Your magic had been nothing compared to Vecna’s power. Eddie had pushed out the hivemind on his own. He was so much stronger than he gave himself credit for.

Through a constricted throat, you said, “Your blood soaked through your clothes.” Your eyes pricked with tears. “You di-died in front of me.”

Eddie leaned in, crushing your lips together. You forgot about tears and the feel of his blood thick between your fingers. He tilted your head. His lips, puffy and slick, glided across yours.

“I’m here,” he said, and kissed you again. “I’m right here.”

You kissed him in reply, letting your greed and relief guide you.

You shimmied your jacket off your shoulders. His hands went to your arms to help tug it off. You grinned into the kiss when the fabric caught on your forearms. He huffed, amused, before yanking at the sleeves. You shook your arms free and flung the jacket.

Planting a knee on the bed, you crowded him back onto the pillows. He put his hands at your waist and pulled you onto him. You straddled his hips, the linens bunching between you.

He hauled you up his body to tuck his face against your throat. He mouthed and bit at your neck, all hesitation thrown to the side. You encouraged him with a whimper and fingers gripping his hair. His soft lips left a fiery line as his hands grabbed your ass.

You arched your back. Your ribs pumped with every rapid breath.

“Wanna eat you alive,” he said. “Fuck, you taste so good.”

“Want you, too.”

Teeth scraped under your jaw, catching on the sore hickey there. You gasped, yet refused to shy away. Let him bite and draw blood. Let it hurt. You could heal yourself.

With a groan, he dug his teeth midway down your neck. The sting made your spine melt. His palms slid up your back, taking your shirt with them. Then he sucked, and you felt it between your legs.

You ground against him — as much as you could through the layers of fabric. You needed to feel his heat, taste his skin and scars. Because he was alive, and you were in his bed.

When he released your skin, sensation beyond pain, beyond heat, bloomed through your neck. It rang in your ears, fisted a groan from your lungs, stole your strength. He folded his rangy arms around you and grazed his lips over the spit-wet spot.

You closed your eyes with a hum.

He kissed you from jaw to cheek. He even kissed your chin. You curled to catch his lips in a languid kiss. It went aggressive in a handful of seconds. You couldn’t tell who set it in motion, but you’d follow it through with sucking on the tip of his tongue and biting his lip. He shivered and squirmed and held onto your waist.

You broke the kiss to leave him reeling.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?”

He nodded, eyes half-closed.

“Then let me take care of what’s mine.”

Again, he nodded.

You directed Eddie’s hands to the pillow, letting your fingertips linger on the silky insides of his forearms. His t-shirt sleeves slipped up to expose scarring on his upper arms. You pressed your lips to the delicate scar tissue.

He inhaled sharply.

You whispered, “It’s okay.”

He closed his eyes with a brief nod.

You kissed the scar on his jaw and the faint one at the side of his neck. He angled his chin to expose himself. In reward, you kissed his lips. His muscles unspooled. You brushed your thumbs over his cheekbones.

“I got you.”

“I know.”

You wiggled down his torso and sat up. Oh-so slowly, you skimmed your hands under his t-shirt to his sides. The jagged edge of a bigger patch on his torso peeked from under the t-shirt’s hem. The uneven texture of the scars didn’t feel ugly or rough. They were interesting, and you wanted to see them.

He clapped his hands over yours.

You met his uneasy gaze and waited, keeping your expression open. While you could offer platitudes or compliments, they’d ring hollow. He knew how you felt and how you viewed him. It was only a matter of time for him to gain confidence — or at least trust you.

His hold relaxed, then gradually drifted away.

You followed the taper of his torso until you held his undulating ribs. With the t-shirt bunched at his pecs, you could assess the havoc the bats had wrought. Beyond the patch on his lower torso was a line of bites and healed sutures on his left. A wedge of pink scar tissue defaced the right side of his ribs. Between the larger patches were claw and teeth marks.

You traced them with a light touch before looking at his face. His teeth dug into his lip as his gaze jumped from between your bodies to the side to your face and back again.

“So, this is the horror show you promised?” you asked with a playful look.

He frowned, mouth opening.

Before he spoke, you asked, “Can you feel my touch?”

He wet his lips and nodded.

“Yeah?”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

“You don’t—”

“No, I don’t whatever. I’m not grossed out.”

To prove your point, you bent to kiss the bite mark on his sternum. The satiny, pitted skin wasn’t disgusting. It was just skin — that smelled like him. You nudged the t-shirt higher to get at his left nipple. You teased it with your tongue, and he stilled. You pinched it between your teeth, and he arched against your lips. You soothed the tiny hurt with a kiss, and he gasped.

You inched the t-shirt higher until you propelled his arms up. He took over and snatched the t-shirt over his head. He dropped it beside the bed as you caressed his chest.

Only fragments of his demon-head and black-widow tattoos were visible around a darker scar. You followed the scar’s border with your fingers and pouted at the loss of the tattoos. Not because they were the most beautiful you’d ever seen, but because they’d been Eddie’s.

“You can have these redone.”

“Nah, I’d rather get a cover-up.”

You smiled before bending to pepper kisses on the scar.

“That’s going to be a big cover-up, honey.” You kissed your way from the scar to the dip of his throat. “Maybe I can hold your hand through it.”

He tilted his head back with a soft groan. You angled his chin to the side and sucked at the hot skin of his neck, giving him a faint hickey. You kissed your way up to his ear and sucked on the lobe.

With a near growl, he said, “God, I can’t—” and pulled you into a burning kiss.

You opened for him as he teased your tongue with his own. He kissed your hot cheeks and your forehead. His hands surged down your sides, then under your shirt. You straightened onto your knees and stripped off your shirt and bra. Your nipples puckered in the cooler air.

His hips jerked as his hands gripped your hips. He stared at your chest and licked his lips.

Instead of asking if he wanted to touch, because that seemed obvious, you bent and guided his hands to your breasts. You encouraged him to support them, squeeze them, while you watched his flushed face.

He circled your nipples with his thumbs, his touch graceful yet electrifying. A feeling like goosebumps trickled through your gut and had your thighs tensing. You curved into his caress in encouragement. Your underwear’s saturated cotton grazed your pussy, and you wished it was his cock.

Eddie held your ribs and rose to bury his face between your breasts. He mouthed at the valley between them and kissed the beginning swells. You held the back of his head. He sucked at one nipple, then the other. That goosebump feeling intensified until you were a quivering mess.

He undid your jeans, and your eyes popped open. He looked at you through his pretty lashes. There was a voracity in his dark gaze that said only you could slake his need — and you wanted to be the only one to do it, too.

“This okay?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Y-yeah.”

With no hesitation, his hand slithered between your stomach and underwear. It burned a line down the curve of your belly through your pubic hair. His middle and ring fingers glided between your wet folds. You gripped his shoulders, hard muscle moved under his skin.

The first long stroke to your clit had your nails digging into his skin and sucking air between your teeth. You couldn’t stop the tiny sound you made. He nibbled at your collarbone, teeth scraped your skin. You leaned your weight against him as your watery legs trembled. His free arm held you upright by the waist.

Rather than circle your clit, he kept stroking. The first wash of pleasure fueled you to move your hips counter to his fingers. His calluses pulled at the hood of your clit, then drove it down. He pressed harder, sparking a sensation deeper than your clit.

Your focus narrowed to your rising orgasm and the thought of his cock pumping deep inside your juicy cunt. You wanted to feel his strong hands restraining you, his sweat-slick skin on yours, and his lush mouth between your legs.

An animalistic keen left your throat at the jumble of images. Your heart hammered in your ears. You rode that knife-edge of climax. It was right there.

“C’mon, baby, fuck those fingers.”

You moaned, doing as he ordered, until ecstasy forced its way through you — so hard, so deep. The internal throb of it stole your strength as it went on and on. You crumbled, putting more of your weight on him. He held you without protest.

“Can feel it,” he said, petting your oversensitive clit.

You writhed in his arms and begged for something you couldn’t put words to. He kissed your throat as he lay still pressure on your clit. Your cunt pulsed strong enough that your hips moved of their own volition.

After a moment, he pulled his hand from your underwear and brought his fingers to his mouth. You sat on his thighs to watch him suck at his wet fingers. He hummed in satisfaction. Your cunt pulsed one last time, as though it hadn’t had enough.

Maybe it hadn’t.

He met your gaze and offered his flushed lips for a kiss. You cradled the back of his head and kissed him with unexpected fervor. You tasted the tang of your own come on his tongue. He held your face, sticky fingers on your cheek, and pushed into the kiss. You sucked your flavor off his bottom lip, pulling a moan from his chest.

“Take the rest off,” he said, falling onto his back.

“You too.”

He smirked.

“Not much more to go.”

You let your eyes track from his chest to the wrinkled lump of blanket covering his groin. Despite knowing, intimately, what was underneath, getting him naked continued to be a thrill.

“Good.”

He blushed, and his smirk softened.

You climbed off him to sit at the edge of the bed. You untied your Docs and wrenched them off. Your socks followed. Eddie kicked the blanket away. While he wiggled out of his briefs, you hooked your thumbs in your underwear and jeans, rising enough from the bed to slide them down your hips and off your legs.

You pivoted on a hip to find him reaching for a condom. His eyes went wide with a question. Or like you’d caught him doing something he shouldn’t. You bent a leg on the bed and plucked a condom from the pile before he could.

“You know,” you said, holding the condom like a cigarette between your fingers. “I think I need to get on the pill.” You got on all fours. “Or get an IUD, or something.”

Sounding on tenterhooks, he asked, “Why’s that?”

You crawled between his legs. He spread his thighs to make room for you.

“So I can have you raw.”

He let out a breath, cheeks reddening further, and wrapped a hand around the base of his cock. A thick bead of precome pearled at its slit.

“Would you like that, honey?”

“Shit, you know I would.”

You gave him a playful wink before hunching to lick the tip of his cock. He groaned through a smile, squeezing his cock. You savored the salty taste of him.

You tapped at the back of his hand.

“Let go.”

“I swear, I’m gonna blow in, like, ten seconds flat.”

You sat on your calves with a self-satisfied shrug. He needed to feel as good as he’d made you feel. If that happened quickly, that was fine with you because—

“We got all night,” you said, and tore open the condom packet.

He still hadn’t released his hold.

“Eddie, honey, let go.”

“Just—” He swallowed. “Get it halfway down first.”

You pulled out the lubed condom and discarded the wrapper. He bit his lip, looking as though you were about to perform surgery on him. Keeping your touch light and at the minimum, you pinched the tip of the condom and rolled it over his shaft until it met his fingers.

He shuddered with eyes closed and a crease between his brows.

You said, “Let go.”

He exhaled and thumped his fists to the bed. You wasted no time in rolling the condom the rest of the way down. He panted and keened. His cock twitched in your hand, but you wiped your palms on the sheets before he could embarrass himself.

With a gentle shush, you caressed his hips and ran your thumbs in the shallow groove of muscle on either side. You kept at it until his breathing slowed and tense thighs relaxed.

You maneuvered your knees on either side of him and balanced yourself with a hand on his chest.

“Ready?”

When he nodded, you reached between your bodies to brace his erection. You were so ready, so wet, for this. Even the feeling of the condom didn’t turn you off. You found your hole and eased onto his thick cock, inch by slick inch.

Once you settled, you had to give yourself a moment. You sat with hands on your thighs while you adjusted to the fullness. He felt perfect and delicious. You looked at Eddie to see him watching you, bottom lip between his teeth and fingers digging into the mattress. Emotion filled his bright eyes.

You wanted to soothe him, but if you moved, it would set off a chain reaction he’d been trying to suppress.

“Don’t think.”

Through gritted teeth, he said, “Trying not to.”

If you didn’t take the initiative, he would torture himself for the rest of the evening. You rotated your pelvis. The simple movement made you gasp. It had been so long, and you were so eager for this with him. Under you, he choked on a desperate sound.

“I can’t wait to feel you without any barriers,” you said, rotating your pelvis again. “Feel you come deep inside me.”

He grabbed your hips to propel your movements.

“I’ll fill you up,” he said.

You planted your hands on his chest with a groan and rode him like he wanted you to. You rose only to sink down a second later, never letting him slip out. His hands glided up your sides. With a hum, you encouraged him to touch you — touch you anywhere, everywhere. You couldn’t get enough of his cock, of his nimble hands, of his body tight against yours.

Your need ramped to a boiling fever, some thrilling sickness. You bent to kiss him, sucking on his lip and tongue, as you rolled your hips in a frantic rhythm. Your skin slapped against his, but it wasn’t enough. You hid your face in his shoulder and whimpered when you found no relief.

His arms looped across your back, as if you’d try to escape. Like you could get away from this desire.

You stilled in time for him to roll to the side and on top of you. He pushed his cock deep. You mewled, your thighs stretched around his hips.

His gaze roved over your features.

“I’m gonna fill your sweet pussy.”

You nodded.

He said, “I’ll make you come.”

You closed your eyes as you imagined it. Hands all over you, gripping you, going between your legs, holding you steady as he worked your body. Your cunt clenched at the image.

“Because you’re mine, too.”

You nodded once more.

He adjusted his stance, knees dipping into the mattress. He grasped one of your shoulders as you held onto his arms with shaking hands.

“Look at me and tell me you love me.”

You stared into his eyes. It was all written out there for you to see: no denial, no hiding, and no more doubt.

“I love you.”

He caught your lips and kissed you so thoroughly you forgot anything beyond him. His hold tightened. His hips minutely rocked. His heavy cock kindled that heat hidden inside.

You moaned against his lips and pulled at him. He needed to move. You’d been wanting him for what felt like years. You’d both gone through hell, seen oblivion, and returned to each other’s side. You needed him to move — now.

He buried his face in your neck, lips against the marks he’d left. The rocking of his hips descended into grinding, then full-out thrusting. He fucked you hard. His cock dragged at the underside of your aching clit. The bed springs whined every time he bottomed out.

You couldn’t catch your breath as his thrusts became desperate. He yanked at your hair to bare your throat. His long hair — that smelled of your shampoo — veiled your humid face.

He kissed his marks and murmured something you couldn’t make out. You agreed anyway. He groaned in reply, driving you down while he thrust up. The sheets stuck to the sweat on your back. His hips snapped forward over and over, his cock ramming deep. You tried your best to move with him, but he was too fast.

Then you couldn’t move at all. Your belly quivered and your thighs tensed. His cock was too much. You strained against him, with him, until that fever broke. You shook in his arms. Your jaw clenched. Orgasm burned through you like a geyser. It sizzled up your spine. You couldn’t catch your breath. Hot tears trickled over your temples in rapturous agony.

Eddie fucked you through it, holding you tight. Your cunt throbbed and clamped around his pistoning length. He cursed in needy growls until he seized, breathless. His voice cracked. His thrusts slowed, yet remained fierce, as his cock pulsed with each thrust.

He stuttered a jumble of cut-off thoughts, all of them flattering and loving. You grinned and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hugging his sides with your thighs. He mouthed at your neck lazily.

After a tranquil moment, he kissed you, gentle yet demanding. You felt him — every bit of him. His lips tasted of salt. His hands sheltered and cradled. His gaze warmed you. You could only respond in kind. He melted as you smoothed his hair away from his flushed, glowing face.

He kissed you one more time before steadying the condom and slipping out of you.

You relaxed, allowing your tired limbs to sink to the bed. He rolled to the side and dropped the condom on the heap of his dirty clothes. You wrinkled your nose, but didn’t comment. He flopped beside you and pillowed his head on a bent arm. The heating system kicked on. Your sweat cooled as you contemplated getting out of bed. Instead, you tucked your feet between the folds of the blanket.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie said.

You hummed in acknowledgement and glanced at him.

“I was thinking, and you might not be into this, but you want to go to LA? With me?”

You stared at the ceiling.

Los Angeles: broken glass glittering in gutters, live music every night, fluttering neon, cars with their tops down, a bland apartment with a mattress on the floor, your feet warmed by sunshine as you read the newspaper’s entertainment section, Eddie writing songs at the kitchen table.

A smile spread across your face.

“Hell yeah.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #em tagd #waywardrose writes

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niqhtlord01 · 2 years

Text

Humans are weird: The human test. AKA: Paranoia

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )

“This is survey team six entering atmosphere; touchdown in twenty at target location.”

With his report finished Xinth flipped off the transmitter and went back to bringing down his ship and crew safely. After making back to back landings within the last twenty rotations on six other worlds, Xinth was comfortable that this one wouldn’t be any different.

“We dying today or did I fill out my company life insurance for nothing?”

“You should know by now that when I’m at the helm every flight is safety guaranteed.” Xinth remarked with a smirk.

No sooner had the words left his mouth did the entire ship lurch down some twenty feet before co-pilot Tiktik reached passed him and flicked a on the stabilizer units.

“Safety guaranteed you said?”

Xinth grunted but said nothing as he leveled off the ship again.

The rest of the descent went without trouble and the ship finally came to a gentle landing in a large open clearing. Xinth looked out over a seemingly endless horizion of tall thin red grass like stalks that waved in the wind.

“Let’s go make some money.” Tiktik said over his shoulder as he unstrapped himself and left the cockpit. Xinth followed after taking a quick break to stretch his limbs. Nothing wore him out more than the tediousness of entry landings and he could feel his life essence returning with each crack of his muscles.

Feeling refreshed he passed through several pressure doors and made his way to the central hold where the rest of the team was waiting for him.

Standing atop the walkway lining the upper areas of the central hold he could easily see his entire crew as they were getting ready. Tiktik was next to Yon as he loaded up the mobile transport with the survey gear they would need. Desh and Mim were going over the most recent orbital scans to confirm there were no hazardous weather patterns that would endanger the team while they were off ship. Most importantly of all he saw Anthony tightening up his survival suit near one of the lower hold doorframes.

Taking a mental headcount as he saw each of their faces Xinth paused for a moment before realizing he was missing his newest crewmember. He was just bout to callout to Tiktik about their location when the doorway beside Anthony opened and in walked the devil himself.

Jakhaut had joined the crew shortly after their last survey when they returned to the ship to offload the data. Hi bulk barely fit through the doorframe as he entered. To Xinth’s amusement he could heat the rookie grunting as he squeezed himself into the room. It wasn’t that Jakhaut was fat; more that his muscles were so large that it was a miracle that he could fit through any doorway to begin with.

After several grueling moments of struggling he was finally able to push his way into the hold. Anthony was so focused on getting his suit in working order that he did not see the lumbering alien suddenly now thrust into the room and Jakhaut pushed him aside with a casual shove.

Anthony was thrown to the floor by the shove but Jakhaut merely looked down in disgust. “Human.” The brute muttered, the word dripping from his mouth like toxic slime as he continued by without a single look back. Not one to be pushed around Anthony stood back up and made to follow Jakhaut’s attention when Xinth spoke up.

“Alright everyone,” he said calmly to forestall what would soon be a brawl between the two, “this is our final survey and then we can return home for our fat paychecks and even fatter loved ones.”

A halfhearted cheer came from the crew as Xinth continued.

“Same deal as before; we deploy the scanning gear four kilometers from here, gather the readings and then head to the next marker in the southern hemisphere.”

“Any…..trouble?”

Xinth looked over to see Desh speaking through his breathing tubes. It never was easy to understand him, and from what Xinth knew it was even more painful for the Desh to speak at all; so when he did say something it was often on point.

The other crew members all looked up to him in concern but he shook his head.

“Orbital scans detected no life signs along our path to the scanning site so we I don’t expect any trouble.”

To his lack of surprise none of the crew looked convinced. “However, we will of course follow standard company policy before beginning the survey.”

He motioned towards Anthony as the loading doors lurched loudly and slowly began lowering down to the surface. “If you would be so kind Mr. Anthony?” Xinth asked politely as he motioned toward the door.

“It’s what I’m paid for.” Anthony groaned before slowly treading in his heavy survival suit down the ramp. Out of the entire crew he was the only one to wear such a suit. Not because the environment of the planet was toxic to human or any of the other crew members of the survey team, but because his job was one of the most dangerous of them all.

Nearing the bottom of the ramp Anthony stopped just shy of touching the planet’s surface. The crew watched as the human tilted forward to look at the ground, then leaned back up to scan the surrounding sea of red grass. The plants were as tall as the ship and the wind made each one seem alive in the breeze.

With baited breath they watched as the lone human looked left and right several times silently. “What does the fleshling look for?” Jakhaut asked out loud, but the rest of the crew either glared at him or silenced him with a poignant “Shush!”

Five minutes passed before the human slowly began backing up the ramp; never taking his eyes off the swaying red grass around the ramp door.

“What’s the word, Anthony?” Xinth called down as the human backed into the center of the hold once more.

“Yeah,” Anthony began slowly, “fuck that shit sir.”

The crew looked up at Xinth who rattled his fingers along the guard rail. “You heard him, pack it up.”

With that the loading door began rising once more while the entire crew save Jakhaut kept close watch on it.

“So that’s it?” the newest crewmember blurted out. “The fleshling gets scared and we just skip the survey site?”

“No,” Xinth replied, “it means on Mr. Anthony’s recommendation that we skip the entire planet and return home.”

Utter bemusement was an understatement for the expression to befall Jakhauts face. He turned in disbelief to the rest of the crew as the loading door finally sealed shut once more and they all relaxed.

“You all are okay with this?” Jakhaut asked. “We will not get our full pay without this final survey.”

The crew shrugged and continued back to their stations while Tiktik and Yon began unloading the transport.

“Since its company policy we’ll still get something.” Tiktik replied as he hefted down the drilling array. “Not as much sure, but something is better than nothing.”

“What?” Jakhaut asked dumbfounded.

“Anthony….say……bad.” Desh spoke once more. “No…..go….if….bad.”

Hearing this Jakhaut shoved his way through the crew towards Anthony and hefted him easily into the air with his strong grip. “Then tell them it is good so I can be paid in full.” Jakhaut demanded as he held up Anthony like a rag doll.

“MR. JAKHAUT!”

Jakhaut looked from the human up towards the captain who had shouted. His hand was casually resting on a side arm at his waist while his other was tightly gripping the hand rail. The crew stood frozen, waiting for someone to do something.

Lowering Anthony to the deck, Jakhaut released him and took a step back from the human.

“Mr. Anthony I think that has been enough excitement for today.” Xinth said, his hand still resting on the pistol. “Go back to your quarters and get that stupid thing off; you look like a refrigeration unit with legs.” He motioned to some of the other crew members. “ Desh, Min, go with him to help; Mr. Jakhaut, a word if you would.”

As the pair escorted the human out of the hold Jakhaut scaled the ladders up to Xinth. The gangway groaned under him as he walked upon it but thankfully it was more than capable of sustaining the both of them.

“I know you are new to this line of work,” Xinth began quietly, the sharpness of his tone enough to cut through steel, “but the first rule of any survey ship worth a damn is to never, EVER, threaten the human crew mate.”

Jakhaut was about to ask why when Xinth held up a hand for silence. Clearly the captain was in no mood for a debate.

“You can call it a sixth sense, or telepathy, or even some gift from their stupid floating cloud god; but humans possess the keen ability to sense danger even when all other reasoning says there is none at all.”

Jakhaut looked unconvinced. “I don’t have time to explain every situation a human has saved their crew from unseen death but you should be smart enough to realize that if the company deems every ship to have at least one human crew member, and that it is acceptable to abandon a survey if said human feels uneasy about a survey site; then clearly putting trust in a human is not as crazy as it sounds.”

He leaned forward and whispered “So if you ever lay a hand on our human again, I can promise you this crew will happily leave your scaly thorax on the nearest planet with no means of escape; do I make myself understood?”

Jakhaut nodded in silence and the captain finally took his hand off the pistol. “Good,” Xinth spoke, “now go and help store the gear; we’ll be taking off shortly.” ------------------------------------

Several dozen rotations passed since that event and Jakhaut had kept to the captain’s order. He ignored the human as much as possible, even going so far as to exit the same corridor as the human Anthony.

He was sitting in the mess hall one day when Xinth walked in and dropped a data pad in front of Jakhaut.

“Read.’ Was all he said, and so Jakhaut picked up the pad and began scrolling through the contents.

It was a report from an intergalactic rescue team that had been dispatched to the same planet Jakhaut had thrown his tantrum. A rival survey company had landed, one that did not include humans on every ship, and began work on surveying the planet when they were attacked by predator like creatures.

The report stated that the team was swarmed from all sides when they attempted to navigate through the tall red grass to their first site. The predators disguised themselves as the tall grass and would strike down and impale several of the survey team before hoisting their bodies high into the air as their liquids drained down. Out of a team of eight only one made it back to the ship where they promptly locked themselves in and sent out a distress beacon.

Finishing the report Jakhaut looked up to see the captain still looking down at him. His expression carried no snark for being proven right, nor empathy to show he was teaching a lesson.

Jakhaut nodded in acknowledgement but said nothing. No words were needed to show his understanding.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01

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carminecherry · 7 months

Text

PLAYGROUND | kazutora hanemiya

this is part one of the series put a collar on your pet

⇝ PAIRING: timeskip!kazutora hanemiya x bff fem!reader

⇝ SERIES SYNOPSIS: kazutora has wanted a neck tattoo since middle school. after you get a tattoo apprenticeship in the city, he wants you to be the one to do his neckpiece. however, the neck is an awfully sensitive spot. especially for a first tattoo. some people handle pain better than others. some people even enjoy it...

⇝ PART ONE LENGTH: 2.5k words

⇝ PART ONE WARNINGS: slight nsfw (18+ minors do not interact):

all characters are 20+; AU! where kazutora never got a neck tattoo; cuddling, drinking, a little angst, teasing, chasing, tickling; kazutora is a playboy, you're his bff who he can always count on, you're the last person to admit his charms phase you, he comes to you after yet another break up, would you risk your friendship to confess to your womanizer bff? also, you find out that kazutora is ticklish.

⇝ AUTHOR'S NOTE: lots of spice in the next part, this is mostly for tension and build up, enjoy <3

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU ARE A MINOR. BY CLICKING THE READMORE, YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING ADULT CONTENT.

“C’mon~” He whined. A pout, curving his lips. “I don’t know, Kazu… I just became an apprentice. Shouldn’t you go to someone, I don’t know, more professional?”

You take a swig from the tall can you bought at the convenience store, the tinny metal tainting the taste in a familiar way. Despite being 7% it was making your head swirl pleasantly already.

He sighs, pulling you close to him on the wooden park bench, littered with small carvings and ink; some of which you and the gang have contributed over the years.

It sits in an area that's slightly secluded, a grove of shrubs and trees blocking it from view. It was the perfect spot for smoking or drinking in privacy. Once you and the gang stumbled upon it back in high school, you’ve kept coming back.

You run your fingers over the weathered graffiti, ignoring the man nuzzling into you, finding a spot on the seat. A smile tugs at your lips. It's a little heart with a dagger through it. Basic, but it had been the design of your first flash tattoo.

You remember the night you practiced drawing it here on the bench and how Kazu, Baji, and Chifuyu and volunteered to let you sketch it on them in sharpie.

A feeling of nostalgia warms your chest. You also remember a younger, very intoxicated, Kazu swearing he'd only ever get a tattoo if you were the one to do it. This park, this spot, this bench, holds so many memories.

You take a deep breath in, letting the cool, night air fill your lungs. The sun set a long time ago, but the air still held a slight dampness from the humidity of the day. It’s one of those nights where you can feel fall creeping in.

“I don’t wanna go to just anyone, I want it to be done by you.” You can’t fight the blush that dusts your cheeks, much to your chagrin. He’s always been a huge flirt, that stupid pretty boy. You hate it when his methods have an effect on you. “Yeah, yeah, flattery that’s not gonna work on me Kazu. You just want a discount.” You lie, feeling your heart rate increase with his lingering proximity. He plasters on an innocent face, but the glint in his golden eyes gives him away, it always does.

“Pretty, please. It won’t be right if it isn’t you.” He whines, throwing himself over you in a dramatic display. You huff. He knows what he’s doing, he always teases you like this. Making you put your guard up and shut him down. The helpless flirt, the devil. He rotates his head against your shoulder, making his earring jingle, bringing his chin to rest there comfortably.

You can feel his breath on your cheek, smell his shampoo, his detergent, his cologne mixing together; light but strong- like the crisp, cold air of a shopping mall. You like the smell, though you’d never admit it. You’re wrapped in it, enjoying it for as long as you can before he notices. He’s quick to poke fun at everyone, especially you, a trait you have mixed feelings about.

You hear his soft breathing in your ear, that flustered feeling building. You break first, “I’ll… Talk to my boss. But-” He’s crushing you in a hug before you can finish. “Don’t go getting your hopes up.” You choke out. “Is your boss the hot one? Give her my number if she needs some persuading.” “Ew. No. That’s Amy, and ONE she has a girlfriend, TWO my boss is Rei, big, bald, lots of tattoos, sunglasses, yeah?” “He pouts again, "I’m not super into guys but give him my number nonetheless.” “You’re ridiculous.” You finally shake him off.

You’ve had to make an effort to hold on to moments like this, where the shameless comes through. These sobering moments can help you when you feel the butterflies starting, a reminder of why it would never work between the two of you. He always did this, spoiled the moment.

You’ve walked to that edge before, the boundary of your friendship. Peered into the inky blackness of the unknown below. What would meet you there if you ever garnered enough courage to leap? More times than you can count, the words would bubble up in your chest. What do you think of me, Kazu? Do you think we could ever be more than friends? I want you all to myself. All bitten back by the gripping fear of losing a dear friend, fear of getting your heart broken by the person you care about most.

He curls a hand around your waist, leaning into you. You melt into the heat seeping through his shirt. He usually gets like this, more touchy, after a breakup regardless of who dumped who. He has all of that pent up affection, that physical touch that needs an outlet. And it’s always you. Over and over again you are his rock.

You hate that it’s like this, that he has such power over you. But that doesn’t change anything. You can’t bear the thought of him being with anyone else like this. There is an intimacy to your relationship beyond physical. One that he has never had in his love life, or so he’s told you. Your heart aches, confused. The conversations of the past whirling into a spiral of anxiety and hope.

It’s almost funny. The double standard you’ve slotted yourself into. If one of your girl friends came to you, talking about a guy situation like this, you would tell her to run for the hills with a promise to kick his ass. But you were putty in his hands. Damn it.

You’re brought back from your reverie with him jostling you, “Oi, are you even listening?” “Nah, I tuned out when you couldn’t remember her name.” He makes an indignant noise. “Why are you so hung up on her anyways?” The intrusive thought blurts out before you have time to stop it. “I don’t know, I just feel kind of gross about it…” You sit in silence together, not wanting to pry.

“I guess I feel kinda used.” He admits with faux drama. “I’d say it’s karmic at this point, then.” You shoot back, earning you a shove. “Come on, I mean, how many girls have you hooked up with and dumped? I don’t see how this is any different.” “Those girls didn’t matter.” “Oh wow.” You say only half sarcastically. “Not like that, I mean, it was just for fun. We were on the same page… Most of the time…” You roll your eyes.

He slides down the bench, reclining, resting his head in your lap. Your fingers naturally comb through his soft, dyed hair. The longer, wispy bits tickling the skin of your thighs. He closes his eyes to the pleasant sensation of your nails on his scalp. “It was like… I guess I feel like a pawn… She was just hooking up with me to try and get Mikey’s attention.” His voice sounds distant. You hum, taking another sip of your drink, prying your eyes from his peaceful face. “Sounds very dramatic.” You offer, he laughs humorlessly. “Yeah, it’s shit.”

It’d been a long time since you’d hung out with the guys. Work has been busy since you started as an apprentice at a tattoo studio in the city and the only reason you get to see Kazu is because the two of you live so close to each other. You wonder how the others are doing. Sounds like there's some tea brewing and you’re happy to not be involved.

“I don’t know, getting a tattoo after a messy break up, pretty cliche don’t ya think?” You tease. His eyes shoot open and he looks flustered, it’s rare that you can get a reaction out of him; a shiteating grin spreading across your face. “It’s something I’ve wanted for a long time.” He says, with an earnestness that you don’t often see from him. You lean over him in your lap, “Oh~ What’s a long time to you? Two months?” You continue teasing. “Since, like, middle school ass hat!” He says with a playful shove, your drink sloshing in your hand.

“Ay- watch it!” You say shoving him back. “You’re gonna spill my-” He grabs your wrist that’s holding the can, you wrestle with him but he has that brutish strength, one forged over years of brawling in his younger years. He guides your hand up with ease. “Hey, knock it off!” you say, struggling in his vice grip. He replies only with a devilish grin, opening his mouth in a seductive way, locking eyes with you.

His head rolls back, exposing the column of his neck. He turns your wrist to waterfall the liquid in the can into his open mouth; the stream catching a small glimmer of light from a distant lamppost.

His adam's apple bobs in his throat as the can grows lighter in your hand. A bit of the drink escapes, you follow the slow drip from the corner of his mouth, down to his jaw. He closes his eyes as it slowly rolls down his neck, dripping into your lap. You feel your face heat as you take in the sight hungrily. He shakes your wrist to get the last few drops of the beverage. “Problem solved.”

“You ASS!” You sputter. He releases you with a laugh, wiping the spilled liquid with the back of his hand, before sizing you up in a predatory way. A sharp smile spreads across his face. “Sorry, do you want it back?" He sits up quickly, rearranging your positions, grabbing your face between his warm palms.

He hovers over you on the bench acting like he’ll spit the drink back into your mouth as you fend off his attack, curling into the bench to put some space between the two of you. “Oh mY GOD SICKO LET GO OF ME!” You squeal, fighting off his grip with a laugh.

He relents, chuckling as well. “You owe me a new one.” You say, punctuating the statement with a tinny tap on the can with your nails, the wood scraping against the back of your thighs as you scoot away from him. “Yes, yes, your wish is my command, princess.” The pet name makes your heart skip. Damn him.

He stands from the bench, stretching his long toned arms above his head. “I didn’t mean right this second.” You pout, hiding your blush in the shadows. “So bossy.” He quips back. You wipe the spilled liquid from your leg and rub absently at a bug bite that meets the pad of your finger, the itchiness a welcome distraction. You slap at your chest as you feel the prick of a new bite. Then another on your thigh.

“Fuck, I’m getting eaten alive out here!” You say with annoyance. It is still summer after all. He whips around, pinning you between his arms and the bench. “I’m the only bloodsucker that gets to eat you.” He says in a syrupy joking voice, bringing a nail to scratch at the rising red spot on your collar bone. “Fuck off.” You say kicking at him, he retreats with a laugh.

“Ugh, it’s so itchy now.” You whine, pressing on the warm patch of skin. You rise in a huff, walking out of the little grove. “Aww you poor thing. I can help you scratch any itch, just say the word~” He says , trotting to catch up to you. “Animal.” You spit at him, but your voice lacks venom and the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth takes any punch out of the statement.

He skips ahead of you, blocking your path. You step to the left, he blocks. You step to the right he blocks. You stand to full height, not even reaching his chin, and cross your arms. He crouches slightly like he’s going to charge you. “God, you’re such a kid. Get out of my way.” You say in the sternest voice you can muster.

“Password.” He says, a mischievous sparkle in his eye. “Let me through, ass wipe.” “Nope, two more tries.” “Kazutora is a drunk brat who can’t keep it in his pants.” “Wrong again, only one more chance.” “I’m seriously going to kick your-” “Wrong!”

Then he’s running at you. You break into a sprint, a playful squeal escaping your throat. “OH MY GOD YOU DICK WHAT HAPPENED TO CHIVALRY?!” You run through the grassy field next to the grove, the lush blades of grass lick the skin of your ankles with the slight moisture of dew that’s formed. The cool summer air rushing past you. The child-like thrill of being chased thundering through your veins. You hear him laughing as he sprints behind you.

You know he’s faster than you, he’s letting you outrun him. He loves this, the chase. You duck under some branches, the playground appearing in the distance. You run towards it, sprinting up the slide with a symphony of squeaks, rubber soles on plastic. He runs after you as you jump down the back. You feel the crunch of mulch under your shoes.

The alcohol in your system gives you a pleasant buzz on your skin. You weave between the swings, chains jingling, and make a break for the jungle gym. You make a frantic leap up the stairs, cold metal meeting the palm of your hand. Before you can get in, you feel his arm snake around your waist, prying you from the structure. A high pitched laugh escapes as he swings you around. “Gotcha!”

Your legs flail helplessly, far from the ground. “Let go of me you ass!” You laugh. “I WIN!” He howls. “It wasn’t a game, loser.” “Everything is a game.” He says breathing heavily into the back of your head. You wriggle in his grip but it’s pointless, he’s too strong. “Put me doooooown~” You whine. “What do I win?” He says in your ear. “You win an absolute ass whooping!” “That doesn’t sound like fun.” You feel his lip pout against the shell of your ear.

He adjusts his grip, flipping you over his shoulder easily. “Down! Put me down! Down boy!” You say slapping his back. “You’re the one going on about chivalry, I’ll take you home.” He says with faux indignation, turning on a heel.

You resign yourself and flop down to dead weight. Letting your arms swing like a corpse. They brush against the fabric of his shirt; it’s smooth and thin. With each sway you can feel the tone of his back muscles, flexed carrying your weight. You let your fingers trail more, tracing a pattern in his back.

“Don’t get me worked up, sweetheart.” He jokes, but there’s an edge to his voice. “Oh~” You hum. “Ticklish, Kazu?” You bring your fingers to his side, fluttering them lightly before digging in. He buckles under your attack with a yelp as you tickle and prod the sensitive skin of his sides. He releases you unceremoniously, you stumble to get proper footing. You spin, ready to bully him with this discovery. Before the taunt can leave your mouth your eyes lock with his.

What looks back at you is a face you’ve never seen him make. Is that fucker blushing? “Totally unfair!” He whines, straightening and rubbing his sides. “All is fair in… War?” “That’s not the quote, dumbass.” He fires back. “C’mon.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder and guides you back to the sidewalk. “I can walk by myself, y’know.” You say under your breath.

“It’s my chivalrous duty to protect young maidens from the scary creatures that lurk in the night. Even ones who can’t keep their hands to themselves.” “You’ve just described yourself.” “Just enjoy your scary dog privileges. You don’t know how many other fair maidens wish they were on my arm tonight. Don’t you feel special?” There it is, mood kill. You bite back a sarcastic comment. The two of you make the rest of the walk in silence, feelings swirling in your chest.

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