#some of the things in lenny's room!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

urhoneycombwitch · 4 months

Text

I know what they call you.

🍯 honey flavour: You’re a little lost in your head. Eddie wants to find you.

🐝 the bees: Eddie x shy!Reader, best friends Steve + Robin

wc: 11k

cw: alcohol/weed used as a social crutch, R is hassled by a guy at a party (but her boys back her up), brief vomit mention, implied bad home life for R, light SH by way of tight grip, PTSD, R has breasts+V, praise kink, oral (R receiving), one (1) spank, multiple orgasms (R), soft dom!eddie, overstim, coming in pants (E)

foreword: The healing properties of good head <333 Anyways I labeled this R “shy” but she’s more… introverted? Reserved? this one goes out to the weird and off-putting girlies who have a lot to say but are kinda quiet instead. Timeline may be a bit wibbly but designed it to be early 4th-season era, with R (early 20s) having played an undetermined part in the various Upside Down battles from seasons previous.

Loosely based on this anon every1 say thank you anon!

___

It’s spring break, 1986, and you’re cursing the name of your so-called “best friend” Robin Buckley.

You didn’t even want to go to this stupid kegger in the first place, arguing with her the whole ride over from Steve’s backseat.

“Don’t you think it’s totally lame that you’re basically being chaperoned by two gap-year losers?” you’d said, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the console, seatbelt pulling taut across your Rolling Stones tee. “You’re a big girl, Robin, you don’t need Steve and me to babysit you anymore.”

Robin began protesting but Steve interrupted, tapping at your forearms without looking away from the road- “Sit back, wouldja, that’s not safe. And for the record, it’d only be lame if we were, like, thirty and still going to high school kickbacks. Gap-year drinking parties are a rite of passage.”

You’d sat back against your seat with a huff, arms crossed, unconvinced until Robin turned those big pleading eyes your way over the back of her seat. “You wanna talk about lame? Lame is me getting anywhere within a 60-foot radius of Vickie. I am totally hopeless around that absolute beauty.”

She’d twisted in her seat and reached for your hand, and you gave it to her grudgingly (the two of you ignoring another of Steve’s gripe about vehicular safety) as she said, “You’re like, the best wingwoman I’ve ever met. Please come to the party and help me avoid the natural disaster that is me running my mouth.”

Robin wasn’t just being generous- you were a killer third wheel. Especially when alcohol was involved: the walls that you naturally upheld around your introverted demeanor by day turned liquid as whiskey by night, often scoring you major cool points with your friends for things you barely remembered doing the day after.

So you’d relented, and in turn resolved to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible (in the name of Robin’s aid, of course), but turns out your best friend didn’t even need your help in the first place; within 5 minutes of setting foot in the crammed house party Robin won a spot right next to Vickie on the living room couch, starry-eyed gaze saved only for the redhead that bore no room for your intervention.

Three shots ago, the situation would have struck you as funny, but it’s been a lonely time (what with Steve abandoning you, too, in favor of chatting up some college blonde); drifting from packed room to packed room, sneakers sticking to the floorboards, winding through throngs of sweaty dancing students just to keep on top of your alcohol consumption.

Kind of like hunting in the wild, you muse, leaned against a wall with red solo cup in hand. Flirt with Amy Thacker and her low-cut blouse to access the watering hole (Mystery Punch, green both in color and flavor); let Lenny Baker put his paws on your waist to gain entry to the standing liquor cabinet. The stuff of nature docs.

If this dimly-lit Hawkins party is the savanna, then you are the antelope- grazing on snacks, never staying in one spot for too long, minding your own business and staying way the hell away from the lion’s den (the group of jocks in Hawkins Tigers polos).

Unfortunately, you push off the wall in search of a refill at the same time Lenny Baker decides to sidle up to you, nearly knocking the cup from your grasp when he bends his thick head to shout in your ear above the music.

“Great party, right?” His arms are crossed above his tank of a chest, blocking you from a smooth exit via the kitchen archway.

“If you’re into drunk teens, I guess,” you say back, pointedly, licking a stripe up your wrist from where the punch had sloshed onto your bare arm.

When you look back up Lenny’s still standing there, watching you with a hungry edge that’s starting to make your well-honed antelope-sense tingle. As you not-so-subtly cast your glance around for Steve, Lenny leans in again, close enough to give you a sour whiff of his breath. “I’m legal, if that’s what’s got your panties in a twist. And what’s wrong with having some fun?”

“I’m not into having fun with douchebags who ‘roid away their remaining brain cells to bully my friends,” you retort, flatly. You doubt this guy knows you’re connected to the Hellfire group (de facto sitter, second only to Steve), but the insult seems to land anyways.

Lenny scoffs, going for a low blow to offset the sting of his bruised ego- “If you’re trying to play the part of slut, you were doing a way better job earlier.”

What the meathead hasn’t picked up on yet is your absolute lack of care about him- or anyone else at this stupid fucking party, for that matter. Besides Robin and Steve, obviously, but they’re equally indisposed at the moment. You’re feeling bold enough that you could play dirty: throw the dregs of your drink in his face, make a real scene- but the shots from earlier are hitting you sideways and you’re not entirely confident in your ability to multitask.

So instead, with a wink, you tell him, “At least this slut knows when to quit,” and turn on your heel, abandoning the kitchen escape route for a closer door that leads to the back porch.

You suck in lungfuls of cool night air, trying to clear the fuzz of booze from your vision. When you don’t hear any angry footsteps following in your wake, you sink against the wooden bannister and tip back the last of your drink in one swallow. Maybe Steve doubled back to the car…?

With your empty cup left neatly on the railing, you set off down the couple of steps that separate you from the grass, except the toe of your shoe catches on a hidden groove in the wood, and nothing is within reach to grab onto as you trip and begin to fall.

The stumble should have ended with you facedown in the dirt, but something- someone- solid breaks your downward path, catching the upper half of your body in a sturdy hold even as your legs twist around themselves.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, I gotcha. You okay?”

The voice is instantly familiar, one that you’ve heard ringing out from underneath the drama room door on countless occasions as you’ve waited on your various child wards to wrap up their D&D sessions.

Eddie Munson is holding you in his leather-clad arms, larger than life with that big cloud of hair and doe-eyed gaze matching yours. He helps you stand, properly, dropping his hands once you’re stabilized and taking the warmth of his palms with him.

“You okay?” he asks again, tilting his head, looking at you with fresh concern from under that mop of bangs. “Looks like you had a lot to drink.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you drawl, bravado flooding back in. “Am I really gonna get a fucking lecture on drinking from my local drug dealer?”

Instead of rising to the bait or bristling at your tone, Eddie grins- delighted, wolfish- before letting out a low whistle. “Who coulda guessed: resident Shy Girl has a mouth on her.”

You twist said mouth into your own smile, one that you hope is coy and charming and not dorkily lopsided (because you stopped being able to feel your face after that last drink), and coo, “You thinkin’ about my mouth, Munson?”

He laughs- a full, vibrant sound that lights up the night. There’s a flutter in your ribcage, knocking up a frenzy at the noise, like it wants to get out and at him, but you tamp it down and play it cool.

“You’ve only seen me in the cold, unforgiving light of day,” you continue, as Eddie rifles through his pockets, surfacing with a pack of cigs, eye contact yet to be broken. “My nighttime alter ego is a real riot, all liquored up.”

“Well, I happen to think you’re a riot in the sober light of day, too.” Eddie shrugs a shoulder as he flips the lid of the cigarette box.

You’re unsure if he’s messing with you- he’s gotta be, right? The only meaningful interaction you two have had in the past handful of years has been through the courtesy of the children in your respective care- a few surface-level conversations during carpool pickup, some flirting on his end that you’ve always been too skittish to return.

Well, until now, you guess. Maybe this is a good thing, him seeing you like this- it’ll either scare him away, or you’ll finally make good on the quiet crush you’ve been harboring.

You’re about to speak again when the porch door opens with a bang; you and Eddie swivel at the same time to see Lenny clomping noisily towards the steps, voice booming out over the thrum of bass back inside- “This freak bothering you?”

You look between the metalhead and the jock, eyes wide and mocking as you call back, “No, but you’re starting to!”

“Jesus, talk about poking the bear,” you hear Eddie mutter behind you, but your focus is taken up by the fact that Lenny is tromping down the steps and reaching out to grab your upper arm, his cold and clammy palm taking up a sizeable amount of space.

You can feel that rage, simmering and easily accessed, start to crawl over your skin. You stand your ground in the face of someone much larger than you, sneakers planted firmly, chin tilted in defiance- I’ve killed monsters in alternate dimensions, asswipe. You might’ve scared me back in high school but now I dare you to fuck with me.

Before Eddie can jump to your defense, you’re already going in for the bite, voice dripping with derisiveness. “So glad your right hand found its way off your dick for a change, Len. How about you do me one better and take it far, far away from here?”

Lenny’s face is almost purple with anger as his grip tightens, and you feel Eddie moving in at your back- to do what exactly, hard to say, ‘cuz Lenny’s got about 60 pounds on the lanky DM- but just as fast as the tension has ramped up, it gets diffused with the arrival of one Steve Harrington from around the corner of the house.

He cuts a smooth path through the grass to your other side, Robin’s sweater slung over one arm, twirling his car keys in neat loops around his finger, boasting a casual demeanor that doesn’t match up with the steely look he’s giving Lenny. “You heard the girl, Baker. Time to am-scray.”

Whether it’s the rumors of Steve’s nail bat or the manic look in your eyes or the fact that he’s outnumbered, Lenny’s got plenty of reason now to drop your arm.

Which he does, spitting one last “bitch” at you before hulking off into the night.

The anger in you recedes like a wave. You breathe out a dry laugh, then turn back to the boys, clasping your hands over your heart with faux-dopeyness. “My heroes. How will I ever repay you?”

“Shutting up, for a change, would be a great start,” Steve grouses over the sound of Eddie’s cackles.

“Holy shit. Can’t believe your girl’s feistiness almost landed me in the hospital.” Eddie shakes his head, plucking a cigarette out and sticking it between his plush lips.

“She’s not my girl,” Steve says, even as you wind your arms around his chest from behind, tucking your chin over his shoulder. “She is, unfortunately, my problem.”

“I love when you two talk about me like I’m not here.” You simper at Eddie from your draped position.

He’s watching you with a fondness that feels overly familiar, through the haze of smoke streaming from his nostrils as you pat the chest beneath your hands- “Don’t worry about ol’ Stevie boy. He’s turned into quite the good guard dog after the whole Russian mall takeover last year.”

“Aaaaand that’s enough talking from you,” Steve says firmly, twisting out of your arms and putting his own around your waist. “Say goodbye to your new buddy, we’ve got a Robin to collect.”

As Steve steers you towards the direction of his car you wave at Eddie, a motion that he returns, his rings glinting in the porch light.

“Christ, you really are somethin’ else with some drinks in you,'' Steve fusses, helping you into the backseat, hand shooting up to block the door frame before your head can collide with the metal. “Did you seriously have to bring up the Russians?”

“He probably thought it was a joke, Steve,” you say, exasperated and fighting the twisted middle seatbelt with uncoordinated hands. “You know… those things that you tell people when you wanna get in their pants?”

The crack was aimed at Steve’s recent string of strike-outs in the dating department, but he throws it back at you. “You’re trying to get in Eddie Munson’s pants?”

“No,” you sputter, indignant and feeling suddenly too hot.

Steve knocks your still-struggling hands from the belt, clicking you in himself, before pointing an accusatory finger in your face. “Stay here while I get Robin, and no throwing up in the Beemer.”

He shuts the door, Robin’s sweatshirt hanging from one shoulder while he stalks back into the house.

You let your head fall back against the seat and close your eyes, bright cherry embers of cigarettes between lush-lipped curves dancing behind the dark of your lids.

___

You manage to avoid throwing up in the BMW, saving the worst of it for the downstairs toilet of the Harrington house after Steve drags you and Robin indoors. Once your body is purged of the spirits, you collapse into your usual side of the guest bed, sweaty and exhausted, murmuring an apology to Robin who squeaks at the rocking movement of the mattress. In a few minutes, you’re lulled to sleep by the gentle snores of your best friend.

The morning sun is a very rude awakening, Robin apparently having forgotten to close the blinds before leaving with Steve for their shifts at Family Video. There’s a full glass of water on the bedside table and a few loose Tylenol tablets, the word “DRINK” sprawled on a sticky note in Steve’s handwriting.

You wince, down the meds along with half the water, and start the search for your sneakers.

When you’d signed up to protect a bunch of teens at the end of the world awhile back, it had seemed like a one-time gig. But now, here you were a few years later, loading yourself into your curb-parked junker to willingly cart around the same kids.

While wearing yesterday’s clothes. Even with the sprays of cologne that you’d stolen from Steve’s dresser, you’re pretty sure you’ll be fooling no one.

Evidenced by your first stop in east Hawkins for Dustin Henderson, who clambers into the front seat with a scathing appraisal. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” you reply, shifting the gear to drive and grimacing at the subsequent squeal of metal that pierces into your left temple. “Learn from my mistakes as a washed-up twenty-something and cool it on the teen drinking, all right?”

“Washed up though you may be,” Dustin intones sagely, digging through his backpack and producing two brown-paper bundles, “you are now one Claudia Henderson Breakfast Sandwich Deluxe richer.”

You take the proffered sandwich gratefully, steering with one hand to peel back the oil-stained paper from the still-warm bread. “God. Is your mom looking to adopt?”

“She’s kind of got the perfect child already, but I’ll keep my ear to the ground for ya,” Dustin says around a mouthful of cheese and egg.

The solid breakfast helps your stomach ease back into a place of normality, but with your next stop adding two more kids to the mix, the rowdy bickering that follows puts that Tylenol to work.

“You’re an idiot,” Max is saying to Lucas over the sound of his indignation in the back seat. “You seriously think Indiana Jones would win against Supergirl? She can shapeshift, and she has heat vision.”

“All I’m saying is, it’s really hard to see a whip coming.” Lucas is stretching the limits of his seatbelt in his earnestness to get his girlfriend on his side.

It doesn’t work- Max rolls her eyes and taps at your shoulder. “Help me out here. His logic is totally shit, right?”

Making a turn onto the main road, you nod your assent without looking back. “I think you should listen to your very smart girlfriend, Lucas.”

Max makes a triumphant “hah”, and Dustin adds fuel to the argument’s fire when he drags in some other comic book character that you’ve never heard of.

You hazard a glance in your rear-view mirror at Max, who’s too busy dishing out an enthusiastic rebuttal to notice. Her auburn braids swing with the movement of the car, and you wonder if they were done by her mother before work or if Max had to rely on her own hair expertise again.

You’ve got a real soft spot for Max, always have. While you both have plenty of cause to bond over shitty home lives, it’s also Max’s brash and defiant attitude that drew you to her. She’s got the bravery you can only hope for, something that you are sure to tell her frequently, even though the compliment is hard for her to take.

You score a parking spot that’s right in front of the arcade, calling after the kids already scrambling out of your car that you want to leave at noon, sharp. They all give some form of distracted acknowledgement before disappearing into the building, so you figure the earliest you'll be getting out of here is noon-thirty.

Not like you have much to do today, anyways, besides bother Steve and Robin at work- since the arcade is conveniently located right next to Family Video, it’s a perfect excuse to wait out the kids’ spring break activities in the company of your nearest and dearest.

You’re cutting a swift track up the sidewalk when you nearly collide with Eddie Munson, for the second time in less than 24 hours.

“Hey!” He beams at you, a wide, easy thing that fits on his face so well, like it was made to be there, boyish dimples digging in. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” you agree, trying to smile back but probably landing somewhere in the grimace region as memories of last night float to the forefront of your mind. Small talk. You can do it. Say something. “Um. Were you getting a movie?”

“Nah.” Eddie shakes his head, hooks a thumb at the Family Video doors behind himself. “Keith’s one of my regulars. That guy might actually smoke more weed than me.”

You hum mildly to show you’re still paying attention but really you’re looking at Eddie’s hair, dark curls that shift with each of his movements. His hair isn’t black, like you’ve been led to believe this whole time- with the morning light shining through, highlighting the halo frizz around the edges, it’s actually a deep, chocolatey brown.

Similar to his eyes. Which are trained on you. Because you haven’t talked in a weird amount of time and are now just openly ogling his hair.

Before you can open your mouth to apologize Eddie asks, “You wanna smoke?”

You nod, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, and then stretch on your tiptoes to peer around Eddie’s frame at the Family Video sign. “Yeah, but we gotta be fast unless you want the Wonder Twins joining us.”

His grin slips into a smirk, and he winks before taking your hand in his. “A quickie, then.”

That fluttering thing in your ribs is back. The metal of Eddie’s rings are cool against your palm as he leads you around the side of the building, dropping your hand once you both are leaned up against the red brick.

Trying not to outright stare again, you watch from the fringes of your vision as Eddie lights up and breathes a cloud of smoke into the air. His nails are painted black- they weren’t last night. An image of him- hunched over a kitchen table, tongue sticking out of those pillowy lips in concentration, a nail polish brush held in his long fingers- flits across your mind.

Eddie holds the cigarette out, filter-side towards you, and you shake your head lightly. “No thanks. I don’t actually smoke, I just wanted to talk to you.”

Eddie glows. Before he gets the wrong idea you start explaining, arms crossing tight over your chest in unconscious defense- “I wanted to talk about last night. And say I’m sorry. I’m not usually so…”

“Badass? Charming? Hot?” Eddie fills in when you trail off, taking in another deep drag of smoke.

Christ. You feel heat rushing from head to toe as you ward off his flattery, nails nipping into your upper arms. “I was gonna say… talkative? I guess? I’m normally not one to pick fights, but Lenny was being a dick and I don’t like the way he treats the kids, or you, for that matter, and I was drunk and mouthy but that’s not an excuse to drag you into it and I’m sorry-”

“Hey, hey.” Eddie’s tone is soothing, low, cutting smoothly into your feverish confession. He reaches out and strokes the back of his knuckle across your hand, tiny half-moons from your nails leaving their impression as you soften your grasp on yourself.

He doesn’t seem to mind that you can’t look anywhere but at your sneakers planted in the gravel as he says, “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself when it comes to dickwads like Lenny Baker. And I would say that rescuing fair maidens is part of my job description, but…”

Eddie stubs the half-smoked cigarette out against the brick, flicks it to the ground, and waits until you look up at him again before saying “You don’t seem like you’re in need of any saving.”

That flutter, again, as you hold his eye contact for as long as you can stand it.

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “There she is.”

Mortified, you resist the urge to scream into your hands as you push off from the brick, instead squeezing them into fists at your sides. “Oh-kay. Well. I better head inside or Robin will send out the search party for me.”

Eddie lets you walk past him, but just before you turn the corner he says, “I’m across from the Mayfields in Forest Hills if you ever want some company. Or some good weed.”

Footfalls from his thick-heeled boots recede into the distance, and you take a minute to calm your breathing before pushing your way through the doors of Family Video.

Steve’s stocking a shelf of New Releases at the front of the store, vest-clad torso faced away as the bell above the door signals your entrance. On autopilot he monologues, “Welcome to Family Video, let us know how we can be of service.”

“Aw, I miss the days when you were forced to say Ahoy, mateys!” You tease, Steve turning to give you an irritated frown as you prop your hip against the register counter.

Robin clacks away on the computer, hitting the Enter key a little harder than necessary as she says, “You’re about one mall fire and a bajillion NDA’s too late to ever hear that shit again.”

Keith must be lurking around in the back office, ‘cuz the three of you only refer to last year’s cataclysmic series of events as a “mall fire” when you’re talking in code.

Or if you’re trying to be funny. But based on the dark circles under Robin’s eyes and the harried way Steve’s shoving a hand through his hair as he drifts towards the counter, you surmise that the three of you are very much on the same page this morning with regards to humor and hijinks.

“I didn’t know it was possible to be this hungover,” Robin groans, sinking her hand into a torn-open Skittles bag and popping a handful into her mouth. “Sugar is supposed to help, right?”

You snort, fiddling with a stack of paper brochures as Steve leans against the counter.

“Had any more run-ins with the town riffraff?” He asks, feigning casual, honey-colored eyes roaming around the shop.

“I’m visiting you, aren’t I?” You shoot back, unreasonably defensive.

“Another point for the pretty lady, and Harrington strikes a zero,” Robin totals in her best sports broadcasting voice. “What the hell are you talking about, Steve?”

“Drinky McGee over here was spilling her guts last night to none other than Edward Munson,” Steve replies, looking satisfied when Robin’s eyes bug dramatically.

“Eddie?” Robin hops off the stool, sliding her hands from the other side of the counter to stop your own from ripping the brochures to shreds. “And what, pray tell, were you spilling about with Eddie Muson?”

“Nothing.” You pull your hands from Robin’s, rolling your eyes as if the stakes are low, when in fact the stakes are as tall as the Empire State Building. You can practically hear the wind whistling from this height. “I wasn’t… we barely talked. He was backing me up when some jock started messing with me. That’s all.”

Robin whirls on Steve with animosity- “You left her alone long enough for some meathead to get involved? Jesus, Steve, the hell is wrong with you?”

“Like you shacking up with Vickie after two Tears for Fears tracks is any more responsible!” Steve snaps.

Having spent enough time with both your friends to know their propensity towards petty arguments, you slap a hand against the counter to derail. “Hey! Both of you knock it off. It’s fine, I’m fine, we survived yet another night out on the town unscathed. Let’s just… drop it.”

Steve looks properly chastised, but Robin gets a glint in her eye that confirms she’s not thrown off the scent so easily.

“You know what they call him, right?” she asks you, lowering her raspy voice even further.

“Eddie The Freak Munson,” Steve supplies, but shrinks noticeably when Robin gives him a withering look. “...not that, then?”

“Of course you, Steve The Hair Harrington, would only know him by that name.” Robin shakes her head, disapproving, before turning back to you with a wicked grin. “Word on the street holds Eddie The Munch Munson in very high regard.”

Steve scoffs at this, but you blink, uncomprehending. “Munch, like… he eats a lot of food?”

You feel very suddenly and violently ganged up on when Steve and Robin give you mirrored quizzical looks.

“No, babe,” Robin says, slowly. “Munch as in he eats pussy.”

“Jesus christ.” Heat courses through you as you scan the empty store, even as Steve chuckles and says, “You really are a prude.”

A skittle sails airborne into the side of his temple and he flinches, Robin coming to your aid. “That’s no way to talk to a lady, Steven.”

“I’m so not a prude.” You’re quick to jump to your own defense. “I just… didn’t know what that meant.”

You’d had a boyfriend for 6 months your sophomore year of high school, Ben- nice enough guy, but you’d mostly dated as an excuse to get all your firsts out of the way. Some laid-back hookups have occurred since then- it’s not like you’ve been chaste all these years, for fuck’s sake.

But you certainly wouldn’t give any of those boys a prize-winning nickname for their ability to eat you out.

“It’s all baseless gossip, right?” Steve grabs a nearby wheeled cart and pushes it to the New Releases, resuming his shelf stocking. “I mean, what the hell else are small-townies good for other than trading lies like baseball cards.”

“I dunno,” Robin says, thoughtfully, sucking at her front teeth. “If the token lesbian is hearing about it, then he’s gotta be some sort of sex god.”

Steve’s making a snarky comeback, but you can’t hear him over the whistling in your ears.

You stare blankly out at the parking lot, one hand absently crunching at a brochure, trying really hard to think of anything but those plush lips and all the places you want them.

____

Ever since the events of last year ripped a hole in your found family’s world, you make it a weekly habit to visit Max.

You’re always armed with some excuse- made too much pasta, please take it off my hands and put this tupperware in your fridge; I was on my way to the thrift store and thought I’d stop by, wanna come with and help me pick out some new jeans?- so that it’s harder for Max to deny your company. Slowly, over the last handful of months, by way of secondhand book offerings and slices of leftover pizza, Max has let her guard down enough to let you in.

Even on days like today, when her demeanor suggests active disdain (calling you “mom” with a caustic bite when you ask after her last meal, rolling her eyes when she finds you doing the leftover sink dishes), you don’t take it personal. Her coldness towards little acts of kindness is due to the shitty way other people have failed her. And plus, you’ve put in enough effort to be able to see the warm side of Max Mayfield.

Like now, for instance- she’s giving you a bone-crushing hug on your way out, freshly-braided hair pressed tight to your sternum as you hug her back and sway in the doorway. The hug is quick and fierce, over in seconds as she slips back into practiced indifference

“Stay out of trouble this week and I’ll buy you a pony,” you joke as she pulls away, and the smile that she cracks makes it all worth it.

“Make it a racehorse and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she says, giving you a small wave before closing her front door.

You walk down the dirt path to your parked car, keys in hand. Tonight’s schedule is that of a responsible, sensible young adult- the classified ads on your desk at home need trawling through, and a laundry pile the size of Hoosier Hill waits expectantly on your floor.

But there’s this crawling under your skin, a feeling that tends to flare up every so often, a craving for some sort of release gnawing at the edges. Usually the cure is sad music and masturbation, or some of Steve’s parents’ wine and a cheesy romcom.

Or weed. That tends to work, too.

You’re shoving your keys into the pocket of your denim jacket and walking across the way to Eddie’s trailer before you lose your nerve, scuffing your sneakers against his porch while you knock.

He looks surprised to see you, dark brows raised, leaning into the palm he’s got on the doorframe- “Oh shit. Hi.”

“Hi,” you reply, tracking one foot up the back of your calf, feeling timid under his gaze. “Do you… can I buy some weed?”

When he nods, you duck under his arm and drop to one knee on the carpeted floor to untie your laces.

“Shit, sweetheart, don’t go to all that trouble.” He lets the door close, enveloping you both in the moody lighting of his trailer. There’s a radio playing the local rock station dimly from one of the bedrooms, and as you toe off your shoes you notice a gleaming black guitar leaned upright against the couch.

“Do you play?” You drift over on sock feet to gently brush across the strings, a faint and discordant noise rising and fading underneath your fingertips.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice comes from just over your shoulder as he watches your gentle fingers on his prized possession. “I’m in a band, actually. You should come see us play sometime.”

“That’s cool,” you say earnestly. “I remember when you got in trouble for that talent show performance- your band was totally swindled out of first place, if you ask me.”

When he doesn’t respond right away, you hazard a look at him over your shoulder and find him staring at you again, something you’re still not used to, giggling out a little “What?” as his eyes stay on your face.

“You’re pretty, that’s all.” The Dio logo on the front of his tee ripples when he shrugs a shoulder. As if he knew it would embarrass you, he leaves no room for your disagreement, turning away into the kitchen, stretching tall for the metal lunchbox on the top of his fridge.

His shirt lifts with the stretch, a flash of stomach lined with a trail of dark hair that makes you swallow back the gathering saliva in your mouth.

“So, weed,” he’s saying as he pops the lid on the box, shaking out a small bag of fuzzy-looking green clumps. “I can set you up with a couple of days’ worth, if you want.”

“That sounds good,” you reply, mustering courage to drift to Eddie’s side, pretending to assess the baggie he’s holding, committing to memory the way his long fingers deftly pluck apart bud from stem. “That way I can come back and buy more.”

His fingers pause, halfway to the metal grinder nestled in the lunchbox as he says, “You know, you don’t need to use weed as an excuse to come see me. I think we’ve already established I like lookin’ at ya, so you’d be doing me a favor if you came by more. Just to hang out.”

This offer sits between you as he grinds the weed down, then tips a stripe of it neatly across some rolling paper. His dexterous fingers pinch and tuck until a joint takes shape, a small strip of the paper poking out.

He holds it to your lips, brown eyes shimmering with warmth as he waits.

A Stevie Nicks song starts up on the radio, muffled by the trailer walls but crooning through all the same. This close to Eddie for the first time, you can smell him- balmy and spicy, like bergamot and Irish Spring.

You lean into the joint, licking across the paper in one unbroken motion. Your tongue catches on Eddie’s thumb when you pull away, and there’s a salt-warm taste that settles in your mouth.

“Good girl,” he says, in that low-toned voice, and you have to fight to keep your thighs from pressing together in your jeans.

“Wanna smoke here?” Eddie smooths the spit-damp end of the joint down, giving the end a twist. “Good way to test out the merchandise. First one��s free.”

You shake your head as he extends the joint- “I’m definitely paying you, Eddie. And no, I can’t smoke here.” With you being the unspoken addition to that sentence.

“Aw, shucks, sweetheart,” he drawls, devilish grin creeping back in, “You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” you admit, before you can stop yourself.

His brows shoot up again, then waggle, obscenely. “Afraid I’m gonna be too tempting to resist once you’re in the clutches of the Green Dragon?”

Something like that, you think, wryly, but that fluttering is back and you really want to shut it up, so against your sensible, better judgment, you take the joint from Eddie’s hand.

“Got a light?”

You haven’t smoked in over a month, and with your tolerance so low two hits is all it takes to get you sprawled out on the living room floor, arms akimbo like you’re making a carpet snow angel.

Eddie’s a bit more restless in his high, plucking melodious and listless tunes from the couch with his guitar, one foot propped on the coffee table near your head.

Feeling loose-limbed and confident, you stare unabashed up at Eddie. He’d put his hair into a low bun, earlier, and there are a few dark tendrils swinging free around his neck with the rocking movements of his body to the music.

He hits a snag, string buzzing out a dissonant noise. “Can’t focus with you lookin’ at me.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, except you’re not at all. “Now you know how I feel all the time.”

He sticks his tongue out at you, your girlish tittering in answer; you pat the carpet beside your hip. “Come lay with me.”

His body responds easily to your request; Eddie props the guitar back up against the couch and stretches out next to you with a sigh, a wave of that smokey sweet smell coming with him.

Under your weed-filtered view, the popcorn ceiling above you is moving, whorling and undulating in the muted light. You’re feeling gutsy and sure of yourself as you ask aloud, “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

Your head turns so you can meet Eddie’s eyes, which are dancing across your face- cheek to lips to nose back up to eyes- and he doesn’t make a joke, this time, his words coming with weighty seriousness.

“Yeah, I do. I think you’re beautiful. Always have.”

“Always?” Your echo is a soft and seeking thing.

“Yeah, always,” he confirms, simply, as if it’s a fact of life. “Woulda made a move sooner, but you always seemed so…”

“Unapproachable? Aloof? Bitchy?” You fill the gap in his speech with adjectives that have been used to characterize you in the past- usually by boys in the heat of an argument over inconsequential things that have been lost to time, only the labels sticking around.

Eddie gives you a reproachful look. “No. I was gonna say, you seemed like you were always in your own world.”

This throws you for a loop. Neck on a swivel, you look back up at the ceiling as Eddie continues.

“I wanted to get to know you more, but I’ll be the first to admit I was intimidated by you. I mean, you’re way out of my league-” Eddie ignores the sardonic snort you give to this- “-and I just assumed asking you out would've ended with an epic crash and burn.”

The ceiling stops swaying, and you swivel back to hold Eddie’s eyes again, the weed making honesty easy. “I always kinda thought you were beautiful, too.”

Awash with the bravery that only comes from being in an altered state, you keep the momentum that’s aided by Eddie’s soft smile and push up on your elbows.

“I know what they call you.”

Eddie blinks up at you, then slowly, slowly, pushes himself up onto his elbows too. “Yeah?”

It’s a taunt, a dare, an I bet you won’t.

Shows how much he knows. When you’re drunk or stoned, he’d be hard pressed to find a bet you can’t win.

You say it, unwavering. “Eddie The Munch Munson.”

His lips fall open, leaning in towards you as if drawn by a magnet, and you think he’s gonna kiss you until he falls back against the carpet, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Shit. Fuck. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” You’re a little taken aback, ‘cuz while it’s not an outright rejection, Eddie’s upping the drama, hands pressed into the sockets of his eyes, groaning as he tips into your side.

With his forehead pressed into the curve of your shoulder, he says softly, “I think we’re both a little too stoned to be thinking clearly. And I really, really want you to think clearly when it comes to this.”

“Comes to what?” You’re egging him on now, trailing your fingers up his bicep, coy and angelic.

He rolls away from you, making a pained noise with his face smushed into the carpet before pushing himself off the ground. “You know what, princess. New topic, for the love of god. You hungry?”

You are, actually, and when he extends his hand to help you up, you take it.

Eddie whips up a box of mac and cheese while you sit on a counter nearby, conversation engaging and fluid as he cooks.

Between interjections of ‘scuse me, angel, gotta get into this cabinet and can you take over stirring for a sec? you answer all his questions. You tell him your favorite bands, the states you’d visited on a road trip when you were six, even giving him the whole “my mom’s a nice enough person but we don’t get along” spiel that you don’t usually get to until a third date.

If that’s even what this is. He’s scooping steaming noodles into two bowls, passing you one, leaning up against the counter closest to the one you’re sat on. Your knee rubs against his ribcage as you eat.

In between chews, he lets you ask about himself- his favorite bands, the states he’s never been but wants to travel to someday, the highlights of his golden years with his mom that he misses every day.

There’s a quiet lull, after your bowls are scraped clean and set aside. He helps you off the counter and tells you to pick out a movie; you load The Black Cauldron into the VCR and settle into the couch cushion.

Eddie puts an arm around you, lets you play with his hands for the bulk of the film, running your nails methodically across his palms.

By the last act of the movie, you can feel your high beginning to fade, taking your courage with it; when the credits roll, you’re ready to call it quits and sleep off the hangover in your own bed.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Eddie asks, following after you as you tug your sneakers back on in the hall.

“Yeah, Eddie, I’ll be good. Thanks for the weed,” you say, pulling your jacket tight around your frame. “And for the- for everything.”

The smile appears again; the one that cuts deep dimples into his cheeks as he watches you step onto his porch.

When he says your name, you turn, keys in hand- “Yeah?”

Leaning into the doorframe like he had earlier, he cants his head, streetlight a warm glow across his cheeks. “You wanna know where I got my nickname, you come back in a few days. Sleep on it tonight.” And then he closes the door.

___

So, technically, he told you to come back in a few days, and showing up less than 24 hours later has to hint at being some sort of desperate.

Which, fuck it, you kinda are, at this point. Frankly it’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long what with the whole being plagued with visions of Eddie Munson’s hands and lips and hair and that stupid fucking nickname every waking and dreaming hour you’ve spent apart.

While you can appreciate the honorable nature of Eddie asking you to make a clear-headed decision, you’re wishing for a hundred things to take the edge off as you change out of the PJ’s you’ve been moping in all day.

Black tights stretch over your calves as you think of the whiskey you mom keeps hidden in the downstairs cabinet; denim miniskirt smoothed over your hips as you long for a deep hit of weed; hands shakily plucking your black tanktop into place as the urge to be anything but sober gets swallowed down.

You make the ten minute drive to Forest Hills in silence (relative to the weird engine noises your hunk of metal car decides to make), wracking your brain for silver-tongued excuses but instead drawing blank after blank.

By the time you’re rolling to a stop in front of Eddie’s trailer, you still have no idea what you’re gonna say to him- only that something needs to be said. Max is at the Sinclair’s for the night, one less person to worry about witnessing you slamming your car door shut and walking right up to Eddie on his front steps.

He’s wearing a pair of overalls, grease-stained, shirtless underneath- the tail end of a larger ink piece peeking out against his ribs. There’s a lone bike tire on the ground, held steady by the spokes his boot rests on as he wrenches the middle hub, biceps rippling and flexing with each movement.

Certainly a sight that would have stopped you in your tracks, on any other day. But you’re determined to have it out with the returning wingbeat behind your navel, planting your Converse in the gravel just before the first step that Eddie’s sat on.

He doesn’t seem surprised to see you this time, instead giving you a lazy smile on a half-tilt, wiping the tire oil from his hands onto the front of his overalls.

“What brings a fair maiden such as yourself to this ugly neck of the woods?” Eddie leans the tire up against the steps and rises to greet you.

You’re gonna lose what little nerve you have left if he touches you so you act quick, speaking as you cross your arms- “I need to tell you a few things.”

That stops him up short, just a few feet away as he inclines his head, hair loose around his bare shoulders. “I’m nothin’ but ears.”

A wet, rattling breath catches in your chest. You give a cursory scan around to confirm that the rest of the trailer park citizens are indoors, soft lights from rows of windows luminous against the darkening twilight sky.

“I have a… a thing,” you start, unsure of where to begin, really wishing you’d come up with a polished script on the ride over instead of being forced to flounder through for the right dialogue. “It started last year. With the mall fire?”

When Eddie nods his understanding, you continue, in short starts and bursts, like you’re fighting with the words before they come out.

“Something… happened. To Robin, and Steve, and to- to me. It was really bad, for awhile, and then it got better, but I’m still…” your hands squeeze tight into the flesh of your upper arms, nails stinging. “I’m fucked up from it. And the only way I can talk about it is if I’m fucked up, too. S’why I can only hold a conversation when I’m drunk or flirt while I’m high, like there’s this bad thing inside of me that I can’t look at when I’m sober-”

There’s a frantic edge that’s slipped in to your voice and Eddie steps towards you, as if to soothe, but you’re not ready to give in yet so you take a step back, choking out the last few words- “I just- I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t, not yet, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

From somewhere in the forest behind, a bright chorus of crickets swells as you fix your focus on the ground, as Eddie’s boots crunch forward on the gravel, toe-to-toe with your sneakers.

He moves carefully, as if worried that you’ll spook- lightly brushing his fingers across yours, drawing your awareness to the fact that your nails are dangerously close to drawing blood, a sigh as you release.

“Thank you for telling me.” Unlike your own voice, his is low and sure as his thumbs brush against the red half-moons in your arms. “You’re really brave, you know that?”

He doesn’t leave room for you to dispute this, instead tracing the underside of your jaw with his knuckle, forcing you to hold his gaze, those deep brown eyes soft with empathy as he says, “I don’t have any expectations of you, ‘kay? I’ll be all ears when you need me to be, but you don’t have to spill all your secrets every time you come around. You wanna just watch shitty cartoons and keep my couch warm, that’s fine by me. Nothin’ else needs to happen.”

And it’s his acknowledgement of your admission, his softhearted way of letting you know that nothing needs to happen, that makes you brave.

Brave enough to tilt your chin into the lift of his finger as you say, “I didn’t just come here to apologize.”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob against the taut vein in his neck as he swallows, hard.

“Yeah?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath and turns on his heel, motioning you to follow him up the stairs.

Your eagerness is obvious as you scramble up the steps after him, heart starting to thrum in tandem with the flutters as he shuts his front door behind the both of you.

“Take your shoes off,” is all he says, in a low, strained voice, before turning into the kitchen.

Obedient, you drop to one knee and jerk apart your sneaker laces with trembling hands.

Now on nyloned feet, you step onto the linoleum tile of Eddie’s kitchen. He’s faced away from you at the sink, taut lines of his shoulders rising and falling as he washes his hands.

“You’re sober?” He asks, still at the sink, drying his hands on a patterned teatowel.

When you realize he can’t see your nod, you speak- “Yes. Yeah. As a judge.”

A soft exhale through his nose, amused, as he finally turns to face you. Eddie’s eyes do that hypnotizing dance- skipping from your chin to your eyes to your lips back up again- and you let him, feeling exposed to the point of nakedness with the intensity of his focus.

“I want to hear you say it.”

The sentence winds through the air, joins the wings in your stomach, sits low in your belly as you shift your weight from side to side, a gentle rock to ease your flayed-alive nerves.

You say it. “I want your mouth.”

Eddie takes a step closer, nearly toe-to-toe with you again. Over the familiar layer of bergamot and fresh hand soap he smells like the outdoors, and faintly of mechanic oil, hearty and wild.

“Where?” It’s a single word, but with so much weight- suggestive, a taunt, an offer.

You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed, ‘cuz brave as you’ve been it’s still hard to say some things while looking at him. “Want your mouth… on me.”

He crowds into your space, one hand gliding smoothly to set against your waist, the other fitted against your neck, tapping a thumb to your lips.

You part them, passive and wanting, but he doesn’t press his finger to the pad of your tongue like you’d hoped. Instead, he lets his thumb stroke to the corner of your mouth to make room for his own.

“Where?” he asks again, this time into your mouth. You can feel the tip of his nose graze yours, pinpricks of his hair tickling your cheeks.

“Please,” is all you manage this time, awash with heat when you feel his smile form.

“S’okay, sweetheart. I’ll work you up to it.” It’s a touch condescending, skirting that fine line between tease and mean, the same tone of voice that has your thighs pressing together.

And then, he gives you what you asked for. His plush lips- the ones that you’ve been fantasizing about for what feels like eons- are pressing against yours.

It’s a kiss that starts chaste, tender, but soon devolves into a heady, fevered thing when you push your tongue past the seam of his lips. He melts into you, using the hand he has on your face to keep you steady as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, grazing his teeth into the plush of it before going back to twining his tongue with yours.

There’s an audible wet click as he pulls away, both of your chests heaving in the quiet that follows; Eddie rests his forehead against yours briefly to catch his breath, and then he’s tugging you down the hall and into his room.

It’s pleasantly messy and lived-in, posters and photographs taking up most of the walls, guitar cables snaking and criss-crossing atop his dresser. You take a seat on the bed, hands tightening into the flannel duvet while Eddie begins to undo the buttons of his overall straps.

Wholly fascinated, you watch as he pushes the thick material from his body and kicks it to the side, leaving him in just his guitar pick necklace and a simple pair of black boxers. Now on full display, you drink in the sight of the most skin you’ve ever seen of his- tattoos at his chest and arms dark against the rest of him, pale and gleaming softly in the yellow light of the bedside lamp.

You’re trying to figure out if the larger piece on his ribs is a dragon or some other mythological creature when he moves in to sit next to you, his kisses erasing all thoughts.

Eddie’s making these throaty little noises as you kiss; his hands track lines from your hips to your sides to your shoulders, your chest unconsciously pressing into his touch.

When his thumb catches on the outline of your beaded nipple through your shirt, he hisses lightly, drawing back to look at you again- “Is this okay?”

You nod, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that, tsking as he swipes with his thumb again, watching closely as you react silently to the touch.

“Hard to tell when you’re enjoying yourself if you’re quiet as a churchmouse,” Eddie says, in a tone that’s reminiscent of training a pet. “You gonna let me hear you?”

Your teeth catch on your lower lip as he thumbs across your nipple again, shockwaves coursing into goosebumps as you choke out, “I’m not s-so good at that. Not without- fuck- weed..”

Eddie huffs a laugh, a little derisive but you figure he’s probably got the right, seeing as how you’re this worked up and he’s barely touched you.

“You’re plenty good at this sober, sweetheart. Want me to prove it?”

His hand falls from your breast, extricates one of yours from the covers, and slides it up the meat of his thigh- then to the front of his boxers.

The first noise you make for him is a small gasp, one that matches his own as you cup your palm over the thick jut of his hard cock.

“Told you,” he says, sounding strung-out, his hand still closed around your wrist, “You’re doin’ just fine at working me up.”

You wrap your fingers around the bulge as best you can with the fabric of his boxers separating skin from skin, gaining confidence to explore as his grip on your wrist loosens. The black ink at his ribs expands and shrinks with the bellows of his breath, jolting and stuttering with each stroke of your hand.

Just as he’s drawing in a breath to speak, tightening his hold around your wrist in warning, you still your movements. Delicately, slowly, you slide out of his grasp and take his wrist in your hand, placing his palm on your own thigh.

The whole “reciprocating pleasure with sound” is still a hard one to give in to; maybe you can compensate for your hesitancy by showing instead of telling. You guide his hand up, into your skirt, parting your thighs until his fingers find the wetness soaking through both your panties and tights.

“Fucking… jesus.” Eddie moves with the fluid surety that you lack, middle finger running up the seam of your clothed pussy, your hips jerking reflexively when he catches against your clit. “This all for me, princess?”

In answer, you lean to bury your face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He lets you, taking the opportunity to hook your leg over his thigh, spreading you out as much as your fitted denim skirt will allow.

You pant into the column of his throat as he strokes you through the light layers, the fabrics grinding friction into your clit caught under his fingertip. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, cooing praises that have your stomach muscles tensing.

“That’s it, good girl, such a good girl for me.”

Your clit is throbbing now as he rubs you in small, quick circles, and you’re so close to falling over the edge that you have to pull his hand away.

Eddie picks up on your unspoken plea; he tugs the skirt down your hips then tosses it blindly over his shoulder, reaching for the edge of your tights. He slips them down your thighs, your calves, peeling them off you with reverence. When all that’s left is your best pair of satin panties, he maneuvers you up against the headboard and stretches himself flat on his stomach, nose pressing into your core.

That heat has come back, flashing through you with a vengeance as Eddie mouths at your pussy through the satin, sloppily but with purpose enough to have your cunt clenching around nothing.

You stay up on your elbows, watching that mane of dark hair bracketed by your thighs, but when Eddie pulls your underwear down and off your ankle your weight falls back against the mattress.

The flat of his tongue licks a wide stripe from your weeping hole up to spread the wetness around your clit. When he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your head presses back into the covers, hands grappling above you for something to anchor your grasp.

When Eddie flicks the point of his tongue against that bright spot of nerves your hands find a pillow to grip, and when he moans into your pussy the vibrations have you instinctively pulling the pillow against your face, teeth biting into the fluff, masking the whine that would have been loud in the otherwise quiet room.

You think you might be able to get away with this setup (what with Eddie seemingly focused on making you explode into a million little pieces) but there’s a sharp smack before the outer skin of your thigh is burning, white-hot from the kiss of his rings.

Eddie’s mouth leaves you only for the time it takes for him to rip the pillow from your grasp and scold, “Uh uh, none of that, c’mon,” and then he’s back at your clit, suckling with renewed vengeance.

There are little stars bursting at the edges of your vision, your hands shooting down to grip at Eddie’s hair when he pistons the point of his tongue against you again. Your hips are subtly bucking into his mouth, shaking thighs involuntarily closing around his ears. Normally you’d be concerned about Eddie’s air intake but going off the moans he’s burying in your pussy, you’d hazard a guess that he’s really into it.

As if in confirmation, he pulls off your clit with a wet pop, laving his tongue up the junction where thigh meets pelvis, voice sounding wrecked- “Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Fuck, you got me so hard. Gonna blow a load in my boxers like a teenager, y’taste so good. Gonna let me hear you? Hm? Wanna hear you.”

You’re dizzy with want as you prop yourself on your elbows again, mouth falling open as Eddie sinks two of his fingers up to the ringed knuckle inside your velvet walls.

His other hand comes to rest on the soft curve of your stomach, pinning you in place, before he looks up at you, black pupils nearly eclipsing the chocolate brown.

“What do you want?” he asks again, patiently, as if he doesn’t have two fingers nestled inside your cunt.

Your efforts to grind into him are stopped with his firm hold on your middle, and he tuts at you again- but instead of a reprimand, he seems to soften a bit.

“C’mon, angel,” Eddie says, with such tenderness that makes tears prick at the corner of your eyes. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh before encouraging, “Lemme hear you say it, and I’ll make it so good for you. Promise.”

“Want you to make me come. Please.” Your voice is unsteady, but it’s audible enough.

Eddie rewards you by sinking his fingers further, to the hilt, heel of his palm catching against your clit. When you let out a warbling moan, he nods- “That’s it,”- before setting a steady rhythm for fucking his fingers up into you.

“Fuck, Eddie- fu-uck…” you’re trying, really trying to stay in the moment and not get caught up in the noises you’re making- for him.

When Eddie reattaches his mouth to your throbbing clit and angles his fingers to hit into that soft, spongy spot with each thrust, you feel waves of pleasure start to wash through you. There’s just time for a choked “Shit, Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum,” before you’re spasming around his fingers.

Somehow, you manage to stay on your elbows, bracing your body through the convulsive shocks, white-hot stars joining the wingbeat rhythm as Eddie takes you apart with his mouth and fingers.

He moans, long and low, fucking you through it and then some- your orgasm has been completely wrung out when you push at his forehead, whimpering at the overstimulation.

“No, baby, one more, please. Gimme one more,” Eddie lifts his head to plead with you, sweaty bangs glued to his forehead- and then he’s back between your legs.

It’s this moment that makes you retrospective. Sex with boys, in the past, has always been a quick means to an end: a few minutes of foreplay, tamping down your own pleasure for the sake of blowing off some steam.

But now, pleasure was being given to you in spades by Eddie Munson, and you wanted to give it back to him.

You come on his tongue and fingers, again, stomach tightening beneath his warm palm, and this time you really loose the sounds caught in your chest: a strangled mix of your bliss-soaked whines with his name, Eddie Eddie Eddie.

You feel the bed frame jolt below you both as Eddie’s hips thrust into the mattress in a frenzied tempo.

“Fuck me.” He pulls away, finally, panting into the side of your knee. He rests his head against your leg, lips tinged pink and shining wet, gazing at you with lust-blown eyes. “You are so fucking hot. Holy shit.”

Bashful as your peak wears off, you pull him forward so you don’t have to look at him when you whisper, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, princess,” he says, slumping against your chest and into your arms. “That’s going straight to my long-term spank bank. Number one. For sure.”

You slap playfully at his shoulder, and he rises on his elbows to kiss you- once on the lips, twice on the cheek- warm palms on the outside of your shoulders.

“Are you… d’you need any help?” you ask, reaching to tuck his hair behind his ears, feeling the crush of insecurity leech in. “I dunno if you even- I mean, did you…”

From all the physical activity, your breasts are half-spilled out of your bra, and Eddie bends to kiss at the tops of them, affectionately, shaking his head as he goes. “There is no world in which I would’ve lasted, just now. Very noble of you to assume, though.”

He grins at your giggle, then says- “I dunno about you, but I need some new underwear. Wanna borrow a pair of my boxers? Bet you’d look cute.”

________

Later, when you’re both cleaned up, dressed, and full from a pizza delivery, Eddie invites you outside for a smoke.

You sit with him on the porch couch, legs slung over his, a big flannel blanket shared over both your laps while he smokes with the hand that isn’t on your thigh.

There’s a crunching of wheels on gravel, and Max Mayfield’s bike lamp cuts through the dark.

“Hey, Heavy Metal,” she calls out, undoing her bike helmet and leaning her bike into its kickstand. “Are you done fixing up Lucas’s tires or do I have to keep hauling my ass all the way across town to see him?”

“I’ll have it done tomorrow, Red,” Eddie calls back, giving her a salute.

Halfway to her door, she remarks, “You two are gross, by the way,”

You cross your arms in the sweatshirt Eddie loaned you, slipping into irksome older sister mode easily. “So how’d it go with your boyfriend, tonight, Maxine?”

She flips you both off, but you catch the smile on her face before the front door bangs shut behind her.

Eddie chuckles, smoothing his palm up your thigh, then takes another drag. “You gotta come night smoke with me more often, angel. The streetlights suit you.”

“Gonna get me hooked on nicotine, too?” Your sock foot pokes him in the ribs and he tuts, snapping it up in his free hand and digging his thumb into the arch of your sole.

“Fuck no, your teeth are too pretty to ruin. Want you to come keep me company while I destroy my lungs.”

Another cloud of smoke lifts dreamily around Eddie’s face. His thumb is working wonders on the tense muscle of your foot as you tip your head to rest on the back of the couch. With the nearby streetlamp, his profile is cast in a warm glow; you do a dance of your own, eyes taking in the strong slope of his nose, tracking down to his lips, back up to the wild curls at his temple.

Eddie feels you staring, turns to fix you with a quit it look that you can’t help but laugh at- “What, so you’re the only one who’s allowed to stare?”

“That’s right,” he confirms, leaning forward to set his cig in an ashtray, bullying his way into your space, rings cold under your chin when he tilts your face towards his- “Gotta pay the piper for that obvious violation, sweetheart. Sorry. I don’t make the rules.”

This time, when the flutter within you kicks up, you have a place for it to go- melting softly into Eddie’s lips.

___________________

I wrote the last third of this while blasted please don’t judge too harshly lmao

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x shy! reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #robin buckley #steve harrington #mdni

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phfenomena · 4 months

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❝watching the world from the sidelines.❞ || tom blyth x actress!reader

| request - what about sidelines by phoebe bridgers with tom? i feel like that could be really cute. thank you!

| A/N - i love phoebe so much i can't believe i didn't think of this.

| WARNINGS - eating, heat, tom being a cutie patootie, a m*n serenading you, cringey fluff and an overuse of lyrics,

i'm not afraid of anything at all. not dying in a fire, not being broke again.

your head was lying comfortably on the pillow that you call your boyfriend. he was currently reading 'call me by your name' to you and you hung up to every syllable that slipped past his lips. his eyes transfixed on the page while yours were wandering across his face, memorizing every feature you loved so dearly.

"why are you looking at me like that?" his voice didn't even register as his until you saw him look down at you. "like what?" you retort back to him, playing the innocent role. "like you're obsessed with me or something." he teasingly says as he smiles at you. you turn your head away from his and towards the trees and people walking in the park. "i can't even look at you right now, i'm ignoring you." you reply holding your hand up in the air blocking his view of you.

he chuckles and pushes your hand down. "you're so dramatic" he whispers while passing his hand over your hair, smoothing it out. you smile softly and soak in the moment.

had nothing to prove til' you came into my life. gave me something to lose.

"can you believe rachel chose us to dogsit lenny? i feel so honored." tom says as the dog tugs on the leash, clearly giving tom some trouble. you stifle your laugh at the dog pulling him across the sidewalk.

your sat on your sofa with lenny tucked gently in your arms as you both watch the movie you put on. well you're watching the movie, he's staring at tom on the other side of the sofa typing emails. you look from the dog to tom, and then back to lenny. "i'm getting the vibe that he isn't your biggest fan, tom. he's literally looking at you like you killed his family." you manage to squeeze out in between laughs.

i'm not afraid of getting older. used to fetishize myself now i'm talking to my house plants.

the watering can felt heavy in your hand as you watered the collection of flowers and herbs you grew indoors. “you’re looking so pretty these days.” you whispered to your basil plant. “you’re gonna make my tomato soup so good.” the praises to your plants kept pouring out as you watered them. tom leaned the kitchen doorway and watched you talk to your plants. these small moments remind him in all the way he loves you, and you just make him laugh.

not of being alone in a room full of people, watching the world from the sidelines.

you loved watching tom being in his element, and this was it. a movie premiere where he’s being bombarded with questions and interviews. you’ll stand off to the side and watch him answer the same question for the hundredth time, and it’ll never get old. on the rare occasion someone would ask you something, you’d just look to tom in hopes he’d answer for you. he’s telling the interviewer his favorite snack to have on set, but you’re looking at him as if he’s explaining the secrets of the universe.

your hand is wrapped around his bicep as you walk together and he’s telling you the easter eggs hidden in the movie. you nod and smile but haven’t heard a single thing he’s said, he’s just so adorable talking about his work. you haven’t had a lonely moment since the day you met tom, and you wouldn’t change a single thing.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #billy the kid x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #tom blyth fluff #coriolanus x you #tom blyth x you

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dazednstoned · 7 months

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Modern Rdr2 hcs:

-Abigail dresses like it's the 2000s (I'm talking miniskirts, low rise jeans, heeled flip flops w the fucking sparkles). She will never change too.

-Charles and Arthur go on dates to those adoption events to pet all the dogs and cats

-the whole gang frequently gathers for family bbqs. Every time someone ends up getting punched, passing out, or storming off

-Abigail puts Jack on one of those backpack leashes for kids (John too if we're being honest)

-Tilly, Karen, and Marybeth do full goodwill, garage sale, and vintage market days. They do not mess around either

-the only thing hosea knows how to do on his phone is play chess

-Sean still can't read in modern time

-john plays guitar and writes really horrible love songs for Abigail

-Javier and john r for sure in a band together, they're pretty good when they sing the songs Javier wrote

-Lenny and Sean co-parent an extremely neglected widgetable

-Arthur listens to facebook reels on full volume in public w no shame. Isaac is mortified every time

-john has various tattoos, half of them are god awful. He definitely got Abigail's name or initials tattooed somewhere and she was livid

-Karen gives herself piercings with a really shitty piercing gun

-arthur and John work together in construction, an auto shop, or in the equestrian field.

-Dutch has a very rigid and lengthy skincare routine

-john uses 2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner, but he says it's 3 in 1 bc it also counts as bodywash

-Tilly is the only one of her family to graduate college (Arthur dropped out of hs when Eliza got pregnant and john never went)

-Hosea is one of those old people you just see walking around the neighborhood at like 8am

-john and Arthur don't wear sunscreen or put on lotion. Abigail sometimes manages to force some sunscreen on John's face before he goes to work tho

-bill refuses to go to gay bars but uses Grindr

-Abigail cuts John and Jack's hair bc she refuses to pay for something she thinks she can do herself (she cannot do it herself)

-Kieran is a hair braiding god. I'm talking French braids, fish tails, you name it.

-john owns a really shitty pick up truck. Jack was either conceived or birthed in the backseat of it (maybe both)

-Sean falls for those free iPhone scams every time

-the only videogame charles plays is stardew valley. He thought it would be relaxing, it wasn't.

-Tilly and Mary Beth are in a book club together

-Abigail is the type of parent to not let her kid play w nerf guns or watch pg13 movies (John is the exact opposite)

-Sadie spends her weekends at rage rooms

-everyone's fridges are covered in drawings Jack made for them

-John, Javier, and Sean game together. Violence always ensues

-dutch does not tip waiters

-john tried to play catch w Jack once and ended up getting hit in the groin by a baseball. He didn't know 4 yr olds could throw that hard

-Abigail and Karen (& sometimes Charles) drink cheap wine together every Sunday and discuss the dumb things their boyfriends did that week

-Lenny and Hosea do the wordle everyday

-Jack is in little league soccer. John sits back drinking a beer as Abigail shouts at the referee

-Abigail got a tramp stamp of a little bow when she was 17 (she regrets it)

-Hosea exclusively sends emails

-Abigail hides John's weed socks bc she doesn't want Jack to see and "fall into a life of drugs" when he's older

-Arthur is a hiking dad through and through. While John is a sit on the couch drinking a beer w his kid in his lap kinda dad

-uncle is the old drunk that lived in the same trailer park as Abigail and John did when Jack was a baby. He kinda just stuck around after

-Miss Molly O'Shea would be a makeup god and u cannot convince me otherwise

I might do a pt 2 late in the future!

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omgwhatchloe · 14 days

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STUPID MODERN AU HEADCANONS ALERT

-they all have one hideout they stay at after too many of their apartments kept getting raided. its…its chaotic sometimes.

-bill snores so fucking loud and sleeps on the sofas. he DOES have a bed, he just ‘rests’ his eyes during whatever he’s watching, spreads out and snores like hell. its the most infuriating thing, and arthur does not hold back when beating him with a pillow.

-however if it was lenny or one of the girls who’d fallen asleep on the sofa, lets just say hes sneaking back into the house after late night adventures, and he finds them, arthur would absolutely cover them with a blanket or even carry them to bed depending on how tired he was.

-the men of the gang have differing opinions on drugs, strippers, etc. some will absolutely spend their money on that, others will never even consider it. you gotta remember, this is a gang and theyre criminals.

-movie nights are very random as theyre all constantly in and out, doing this and that, but it is nice when a group of them can settle down and watch something. but you know theyre getting interrupted constantly, because lenny thinks that doesnt make sense and johns hungry and sean thinks theyre hot and tilly cant decide if she wants some of the blanket or not and micah’s just walked in and decided the whole ordeal is very gay etc etc

-STREET RACING. sean, lenny, arthur, john, javier, karen, sadie, even abigail all love it, and it miiiight just be one of hosea’s guilty pleasures.

-leopold strauss does not like dutch’s music. imagine, theyre coming back from a job and he rides with dutch and hosea, who plays ‘old classics’ because dutch thinks thats what theyre into. cut to strauss staring longingly out of the window, watching arthurs car with the roof down and pitbull up. he is a very unhappy old man in that moment. he does NOT WANT to listen to big iron, HE WANTS TIMBER!!

-booktok is lenny’s biggest opp. he likes the classics and to wander around bookshops (sean trailing behind him and picking up random books on weeds and fitness to offer him because he doesnt actually know what theyre about) looking for his own books to read and get his own opinion on.

-sean can read, but does struggle with dyslexia and still dislikes books for this reason. he doesnt mind being read too, but feels overwhelmed and gets upset with himself when actually attempting to read.

-mary-beth loves to watch tv in her room only to fall asleep with it on, causing susan to poke her head around the door and yell at her to turn it off at like 3am. but trust me, the girls seen everything. every dating show, reality show, drama, documentary, she has seen it! she also has teddys/stuffed animals!!

-john never grew out of enjoying sleepovers, but thankfully neither did javier. they’d always get drunk and high together, do dumb shit, snuggle only to deny they did in the morning, and get yelled at to shut up. of course, john’d eventually get to have a sleepover every night with abigail, but he feels like its just not the same…

-charles WILL go to sleep in your car and you cant stop him. arthur finds it cute tho.

-the cupboards do not have snacks because everyone is too possessive over what they want and just keep it in their rooms.

-a lot of the time only a few people are having stew, since the rest are off getting fast food or just not eating.

-sean misses ireland so much, homesickness is a big problem for him (to the point he may actually be sick from upsetting himself so much) and he wishes him and his da never had to leave donegal. though obviously he struggles with booking flights and decides to just not do it instead of asking for help. for a perfect birthday present, lenny booked a trip for them!!

-seans da is not dead!! though he lives quite far from where the gang are staying (different state, not back in ireland) and sean misses him more than he likes to admit. the little irishboy loves to sit in his da’s house with a cup of tea, stealing all the biscuits and yapping on. he used to like to bring lenny too, when they were closer (in distance, not relationship)and his da decided he liked lenny more than sean, joking ofc.

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new-hickory · 3 months

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This magical time of which I’ve spoken with great fondness over the years didn’t get off to the best start. Def Leppard guitarist Steve Clark died on January 8 from a lethal mix of alcohol and prescription drugs at the young age of 30, and three people were crushed to death during an AC/DC concert in Salt Lake City just 10 days later. But things did improve.

Along with the above-mentioned classics, an overabundance of bangers were released throughout ’91, not least including Fly Me Courageous by Drivin N Cryin, 1916 by Motörhead, Doubt by Jesus Jones, Innuendo by Queen (Freddie Mercury’s farewell), The White Room by The KLF, Heart in Motion by Amy Grant (laugh if you want), Out of Time by R.E.M., Arise by Sepultura, Mama Said by Lenny Kravitz, Temple of the Dog’s only album (featuring members of Pearl Jam and Soundgarden), Power of Love by Luther Vandross, Schubert Dip by EMF, De La Soul Is Dead by De La Soul, Don't Rock the Jukebox by Alan Jackson, Spellbound by Paula Abdul (laugh if you want), Gish by The Smashing Pumpkins, Slave to the Grind by Skid Row, Superstition by Siouxsie and the Banshees, For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge by Van Halen, Into the Great Wide Open by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, Of the Heart, of the Soul and of the Cross: The Utopian Experience by P.M. Dawn, Brand New Man by Brooks & Dunn, Cypress Hill’s eponymous debut, Psychotic Supper by Tesla, Ropin' the Wind by Garth Brooks, No More Tears by Ozzy Osbourne, Emotions by Mariah Carey, Ceremony by The Cult, The Low End Theory by A Tribe Called Quest, Diamonds and Pearls by Prince & The New Power Generation, Whenever We Wanted by John Mellencamp, Loveless by My Bloody Valentine, Achtung Baby by U2, and Dangerous by Michael Jackson.

And I probably left some out.

#music #90s #rock #metallica #pearl jam #guns n roses #red hot chili peppers #soundgarden #nirvana

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azures-bazar · 1 year

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Accommodating

Re-uploading this one shot because I wanted to add some changes. I'm experiencing a massive writers block tho, my inspiration is gone (my new job is taking most of my mental energy away but I love it lmao)

Here is some SOFT!Arthur one-shot, again, because boy oh boy it makes me want to write a full story about him going through our current era lol

Don't mind his absolute child-like fascination for modernity, I mean... it's cool to see our tough cowboy happy, isn't it ?

Arthur Morgan x GenderNeutralReader

Word count : 2.9k

Short summary : You make Arthur try some new technologies, and it’s quite funny to watch his large blue eyes gaze at them !

A/Note : I bought myself a galaxy projector not so long ago and wondered how Arthur would react lol. Don’t mind it !

Tags : cute, Arthur discovers modern things, mentions of Avatar, movie-watching, snacks, cute nicknames, cuddles, soft boah is in the modern world, men can also cry

A cowboy in the modern world… what a weird story to tell ! Arthur had been in your life for a few months already, slowly accommodating to your era. Sometimes, it was fun, sometimes it was almost scary, and, occasionally, it could be sad. You knew Arthur was an outlaw, a thirty-six, probably thirty-seven year-old man who had been abandoned on the top of a mountain, but he never really brought the subject to the table. In fact, on a few occasions, he would mourn the rest of his gang, he would mourn his friends he would never see again. You had done your best to cheer him up during his rather sad moments, but nothing could really fill that void.

Arthur missed these folks, a few names were frequently mentioned : Hosea, John, Tilly, Charles, Sean and Lenny. Six people he would describe at times, probably the six people he missed the most from his former life. A father-figure, his siblings, his closest friends… he often wondered what happened to them, to these people becoming distant memories he could only mourn. As of 2023, even little Jack was gone. You wished you could do something, probably beg for Francis Sinclair to come back and drag all these people he mentioned to your time… but Francis was long gone, not even bothering about stepping by your place anymore.

You knew Arthur loved drawing stuff, so you bought him a set of sketchbooks for him to practice. He would hole himself in your now-shared room, sitting on the edge of your window or on your bed, spending about one or two hours sketching figures, animals or even sceneries which appeared to be from a very distant era, mixed with modern buildings and figures he came across while wandering in the streets with you. You often left him alone for him to enjoy his solitude, listening to some blues while sketching his discoveries before he would head to you and proudly show you some of his works. One of your walls had a full set of Arthur’s drawings framed and displayed to the eyes of any guest coming in. After all… it was art ! And nothing could make Arthur more happy than receiving compliments about his sketches he often disliked.

Arthur still had some hard time getting used to a smartphone you had bought him as you thought it would be a good thing to keep in touch whenever you would be away from him. He nearly broke his phone’s screen twice, unable to understand why it would not switch on, struggling to send you correctly written texts. His large fingers did not help much, he would get easily frustrated by not selecting the right letter for his text. You absolutely adored each one of them, finding them incredibly cute by knowing how much Arthur wanted to do things like you. Sending a text usually took you a few seconds, whereas Arthur would roughly spend one minute writing a five-word sentence filled with typing mistakes, some of them being due to his autocorrector.

"Im misqing yoi, Y/N !" was an almost daily message he would send you

At some point, you saw an add of a galaxy projector while scrolling on some social media, right after telling Arthur he would probably get a lot of followers if he decided, by miracle, probably, to create an account for himself. He was handsome, had some sweet-looking traits and could easily model for some alternative brands. He often said he would never do such thing, finding his face too ugly to be shown to anyone. How wrong he was, he was probably the most gorgeous-looking man you had ever met ! But, somehow, you did not want to encourage him to post pictures of himself. Social medias were a rather dangerous place for healing minds, and Arthur still needed time. Besides, he would probably not even be able to post anything due to his lack of ease using his digital keyboard !

You bought that lamp later that night, it got delivered quite fast. You carefully unpacked your new tool and quickly headed to your bedroom, followed by Arthur who had stopped reading a book about extinct species as he saw you wander around your place with this curious thing you held. You calmly placed the lamp on your bed, reading the instruction manual while Arthur touched it several times, not understand what the hell this little thing was and what was its purpose.

"What’s that ?" Arthur asked

"It’s a galaxy projector." you answered.

"Why d’you need that ? Can’t you just look at ‘em stars from your window ?"

"Light pollution prevents it. These are often used to create a cute ambiance at home or to distract kids. Wanna give it a try ?"

"Sure."

Arthur sat on the bed as you switched all lights off, plugging your galaxy projector on, making a large blue and purple light come out of it, filled with laser dots representing stars. The background was moving a little, creating a wave effect which froze Arthur on place. He kept his head up, looking at your now star-covered ceiling. His surprised and mesmerised face was absolutely priceless ! His eyes were shining, his mouth remained half-open as he could not help but stare at these fake stars covering your ceiling. All his troubles were forgotten, making him return to a child-like state. It was such a beautiful thing to see !

"And it can also distract grown-ups." you smiled

Your cowboy-roommate did not even react. His attention was completely focused on the ocean of fake stars he had above his head ! Of course, Arthur knew what a projector was. It would have been awesome to see his reaction if he had never seen such thing before, he would probably have been trying to catch these laser stars like a cat and look confused. But, at the moment, his reaction was pretty cute.

You left Arthur alone in the room to buy a ready-made lunch at the local market. He had a phone and would call you whenever he would need your help, if he would get lucky enough to make his fingers touch the right icon on his screen. It only took you a few minutes to buy some finger food for the two of you to eat while watching a movie, you came back to find Arthur exactly where you had left him thirty minutes earlier, in the same position, with this same amazed facial expression blooming on his face. He was hypnotised by these lights enough to feel suddenly so lost as you opened the curtains of your bedroom.

"Wh… what’s going on ?" he said, placing his large hand over his eyes. "Damn sunlight…"

"I brought us some food. You wanna watch a movie ?"

"Yeah, why not ! Just… just let have my eyes back first, hun."

Arthur rubbed his eyes and shook his head while you smiled. You absolutely loved listening to him giving you cute nicknames, such as hun, sweetheart, lovebug… even calling you boo, sometimes, after he heard about that nickname while watching TV. It took him a few more seconds to leave your bedroom, keeping his eyes partly closed until reaching your living room, helping you placing all the food on the table, still looking surprised you did not have any forks or knives to eat these carrots, chips, mozzarella sticks and cucumbers. He glanced at the chips and took one between his fingers. Since his arrival in your era, he had never seen or had the opportunity to taste chips !

"What’s that thing ?" he asked. "Is that really food ?"

"Oh, that’s a potato chip."

"Really ? Just like fried potatoes ?"

"Yeah, just like fried potatoes, but smaller and thinner. We can eat them for snacks or very random occasions. Try it !"

Arthur nodded, taking a bite of the chip before smiling and taking more of them into his large hand. You could not help but chuckle at his sudden addiction to salty treats, wiping away a few crumbs stuck in his three-day beard with the tip of your fingers. He turned shades darker and smiled, gently taking your hand and rubbing it with his thumb as you launched the movie. Avatar, by James Cameron. Back in a day, that movie had been vastly acclaimed for its large technological progress, and was still pleasant to be watched to this day. You would take Arthur to watch the second Avatar movie someday soon in case he liked the first one.

"Are ‘em blue folks real ?" Arthur asked while pointing a Na’vi on screen

"No, they’re modelled with computers." you smiled, trying to explain Arthur about motion capture in the most easiest way. "Our technologies allow us to record actors and then modify their bodies thanks to computers to morph them into these blue folks, like you call them."

"Is there a planet called Pandora too ?"

"I don’t know. Probably ? The universe in infinite, and we didn’t explore much yet."

The gaze Arthur gave you was adorable. You could see his eyes shine with admiration, it was such a privilege to be able to witness an era which was more than one hundred years ahead of his time, despite its good and bad moments. You had tried your best to keep Arthur away from newspapers in order to help him remain in his rather innocent state of discovery, knowing that a simple glance at the news on TV would probably make him terribly sad and somewhat nostalgic of his own time.

It was quite unexpected, but Arthur cried during the movie. He cried because of its overall beauty, the story appeared amazing to his eyes, the soft melodies and choirs chanting in background soundtracks moved him a lot. He loved the bioluminescent effect of some scenes, the overall atmosphere of the movie, not taking his eyes away from your TV while wrapping his arm around your shoulders, gently kissing your temple at times. He adored that, he adored this moment. Having you close to him while being fully taken into this movie made him forget about all his past troubles.

"D’you also have ‘em guns ?" he softly asked

"Maybe… why ? You want one in case you’d come across blue people ?"

"Mmmm… yeah. Jus’ in case. I miss my good ol' revolver, sometimes."

You rested your head on his shoulder, somewhat amused by his sweet attitude. You would listen to his gasps, his soft squeals, his almost inaudible wows… you could not deny how adorable Arthur was. You could even hear him sniff, his chest trembling a little whenever a scene would be emotional enough to bring him to tears. Who would have thought Arthur could be so sensitive ? Those who knew him much more than you did. Hosea and Charles, for instance, and most probably John at some point, even Dutch. Just by looking at his drawings, you could have guessed he had a soft heart and high intelligence hidden underneath his rather menacing appearance.

The movie lasted for so long… you had time to check your phone about a dozen times while resting against Arthur whose eyes were glued to the screen. You did not even want to bother him, he was absolutely hypnotised by the movie and did not want to be bothered. You smiled at him as the credits rolled, noticing tears streaming on his cheeks as you teasingly poked them.

"Getting a little sensitive, huh ?" you smiled

"That was a beautiful show !" Arthur answered. "I loved every second of it ! Can we watch it again ?"

"Someday, we will. But... let's just take a break, okay ?"

Night came pretty fast, Arthur made you a lavender infusion, you found enough energy to work a little while Arthur sat on the couch and started sketching. Very random figures, some fantasy-like sceneries… and you. You could easily tell he was drawing you by looking towards your direction a few times, then proceeding to sketch something, and looking back again. Another artwork to frame, that was for sure !

"What are you drawing, cowboy ?" you smiled

"Well… I’m trying to sketch you, but I can’t get it right… you’re too gorgeous and my hand shakes too much."

"That’s… that’s really sweet !"

"I mean it."

What Arthur told you made your heart stop beating, you turned shades darker and hid your face behind your hands. Your smile widened enough to cause your roommate to move closer to you, carefully closing your laptop with a large smirk blooming on his face. He made you stand up, slowly uncovering your beautiful face before dropping a sweet kiss on your forehead.

"You’re making me melt, you know that ?" you smiled

"Let’s get you to bed so you’ll stop workin’ on your… weird machine here."

"It’s a computer, Arthur."

"Well, computer or not, you’re going to bed with me ‘cause it’s kinda late."

You shrugged, you didn’t notice how fast time had passed since you decided to get back to work ! Remote-working had its ups and downs, and Arthur had complained a few times about you staying up too late instead of going to bed and hide into his embrace. He could hardly sleep without having you next to him, and there were no ways to escape him that night. How could you resist these puppy eyes and insisting behaviour ? Your arms spread wide for him to lift you up while you dragged your legs around his hips. Arthur loved carrying you around your place, he could easily remain in shape by doing this almost on a daily basis ! You did not mind it. In fact, you loved having him carry you from a room to another. Bridal and koala style, as you called it, were your favourite.

Arthur calmly put you on the bed and proceeded switching all lights off while you changed into some more comfortable wear, slipping under your blanket as Arthur moved next to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He took advantage of you turning yourself towards him to passionately kiss you before making you rest your head on his shoulder. You remained like this for a few seconds, in your pitch-black bedroom, up until Arthur cleared his throat.

"Erm… Y/N ?" he sheepishly asked

"Yeah ? What’s wrong ?"

"Would you mind… switching the galaxy lamp on for a bit ? I… I liked it and…-"

"Sure, sweetheart."

You gasped at your own sudden reaction. "Sweetheart ? Really ?" you scolded yourself, covering your forehead with your palm. You never dared giving Arthur nicknames, not finding anyone of them suitable enough for your time-traveling cowboy, his sole name sounded just fine, you would sometimes call him by his surname. Sweetheart came out of nowhere, and was well deserved !

"S-sorry." you stuttered

"Nah, it’s fine." Morgan responded. "I like ‘em sweet nicknames. "

Arthur smiled, deeply flattered by the nickname you just gave him. His heart pounded faster than expected as you calmly reached out to get the lamp and switched it on. A beautiful fake galaxy suddenly covered your ceiling, filled with laser stars which slowly moved along with the rest of the digital ocean of blue and purple clouds behind them. You analysed Arthur’s reaction and smiled at his sight.

"Why do you like this lamp so much ?" you smiled

"Oh… it just reminds of home." Arthur answered as he moved closer to you, allowing you to place your head back on his chest

"You never slept with a roof over your head before you came here ?"

"I did, at some point… but I got used to fall asleep while gazing at the stars from a corner of my tent, or sometimes from my bedroll when I was away. Gazing at ‘em moving above me was always calming."

"If you want, we could go camping this summer. Would you like that ?"

You heard Arthur moan a little, feeling his heart pound faster. Your head rose a little, allowing you to get a better view of Arthur’s beautiful face. Your hand caressed his chest, drawing circles on them while you kept gazing at him. His eyes kept staring at the ceiling until he felt your gaze, slowly turning his head to you.

"That’d be awesome." he smiled

There were many things left to discover, many things you wanted to show Arthur. The world was full of treasures, modern or ancient, cultures you wanted him to get familiar with, places to visit… Arthur’s health was back to normal, you could now guide him through your own era without bothering about any health issues he would encounter. Indeed, that man was not twenty anymore, but you were ready to do so much for him ! You were ready to guide him, to be with him. Beyond what Francis had first asked you. Your help turned into a beautiful blossoming relationship filled with embraces, kisses and… very noisy nights.

Switching this galaxy lamp became some sort of ritual every single night. Along with waking up to Arthur’s face and his hugs after you would come back from work, your daily embrace in bed facing a fake galaxy was your most favourite part of the day. At times, you would run your fingers into Arthur’s dirty-blonde locks, massaging his scalp with singing some song. Sometimes, he would do the same with you. You adored it, you adored him. No, you loved him… and did not have the courage to tell him just yet, but you knew this day would come soon enough. The world was filled with treasures, mysteries and beauty.

And Arthur was going to find out about them.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #gender neutral reader #modern arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #modern cowboy #soft arthur is the best #azurestales #cute #fluff #rdr2 au #sweet arthur morgan makes my heart melt idk why #red dead redemption #arthur morgan fanfiction

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songforeddiemunson · 7 months

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Things That Go BUMP

Eddie Munson x Reader (description vague for inclusivity, no use of YN, no upside-down).

Summary: Eddie and reader agree to house-sit for a recently widowed woman, and things happen.

Warnings/Tropes: established relationship (this could also be a sequel to Next Summer), no smut, ghost story, talk of accidental death, description of and discussion of death and mortal remains, rather inappropriate funerary banter, dark themes. Avert thine eyes if death talk unsettles you, but this IS a Halloween fic, so, yeah.

Author's Note: this is actually based on a personal experience I had with my boyfriend at the time. True story, my buddies!

Here is a map of the layout of the house. I only included details, i.e. furniture, if it was relevant to the story.

Word Count: 3300

October 1991

Life in Hawkins was peaceful and harmonious, and you were looking forward to your first autumn in rural Indiana with Eddie. You imagined there would be long walks through crunchy leaves whilst scenting the faint aroma of wood smoke as it drifted among the trees. Things, however, didn't quite go as you'd planned.

Lenny Weir, a kind middle aged man that you had built an acquaintance with, was killed in a tragic accident where he was fatally electrocuted while repairing an appliance.

You had been deeply saddened to learn of Lenny's passing. Everyone in Hawkins had heard of the accident; he was a popular fellow among the locals, and was known for helping people when something needed to be fixed or tended to, free of charge. Word traveled fast, and a blanket of sadness enveloped the whole town.

He and his wife Pam chose to remain childless, preferring the company of a tabby cat called Jasper and a particularly intelligent Border Collie named Toby. You knew all of this because you had house-sat for them for a week over the summer when they went on vacation. They lived in an idyllic little cottage framed by flowering shrubs and a stream flowed through their backyard. It really was a lovely place and you had enjoyed staying there immensely.

You attended Lenny's viewing with Eddie. You had never felt very comfortable with death in the past, and you had only been a permanent resident of Hawkins for four months. You didn’t know many people yet, which heightened your feeling of shyness as the other people from town filled the room around you. You sat toward the back, nodding solemnly at the people you saw that you did know, but preferring to stay out of the way.

When it came time for everyone to file past the assembled family and view the deceased, your heart was in your throat. You hesitated, gripping Eddie’s hand tightly.

“Hey,” Eddie whispered, leaning his head conspiratorially toward yours. “I’ve got you. We’ll do this together.”

You nodded. “Okay,” you replied anxiously.

As you moved toward Lenny’s relatives, who were standing near the front of the room next to the casket, you nodded and murmured the usual script of ‘so very sorry,” and “such a tragedy,” until you spotted Pam, who looked composed despite having red, puffy eyes.

“Pam,” you said as you reached her. “This is awful, I’m so sorry, I don't really have the words. How are you holding up?”

Pam shook her head. “I don’t really think it’s all fully registered; I feel like I’m trapped in some kind of awful dream.”

You nodded sympathetically, “I can only imagine. Is there anything I can do?”

“Actually,” she replied, “Next week I’m going away for several days to stay with my sister in Utah and get out of the house for a while. Would you mind staying and looking after Jasper and Toby?”

“Of course I will,” you said without hesitation. “Do you mind if Eddie comes too?”

“Not at all, he’s more than welcome.”

“Great, we’ll be there,” you said with a small smile.

“Thank you Pam,” Eddie added. “I’m so sorry about all of this.”

“Thank you so much,” she said, her voice thick. “Now I guess you’d better go say goodbye to Lenny.”

“Here goes…” you murmured quietly to Eddie as you approached the casket, kneeling down on the provided cushion.

You quickly noticed that the glue holding one of Lenny’s eyes closed was starting to come loose, giving his right eye the appearance that it was partially open.

“Oh god,” you groaned.

“Fuck, that’s not how that’s supposed to look,” Eddie whispered.

“Jesus, should we tell someone?”

“Well I doubt we’re the first ones to notice it, we're among the last people up here…”

“This is why I hate these things. Viewings. It’s all so unnatural…” you broke off with a shudder. You were horrified, and you couldn’t stop staring at poor Lenny's eye.

“Well we started having viewings because we kept burying people alive back in the day. And it kinda looks like Lenny is starting to wake up right now…”

“Dude,” you admonished in a firm whisper.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie said, “it’s just shocking." Eddie paused, his eyes widening in horror. "Oh god, Lenny was electrocuted…do you think anyone told Pam his death was ‘shocking’? Oh man, I hope not.”

“I can’t take you anywhere,” you said. You were mortified, but the stress of everything was making you want to burst out into very inappropriate and ill-timed laughter. “We are leaving right now!”

“Sorry Lenny,” Eddie murmured hastily as you dragged him away.

You arrived at Pam’s house the following week with a duffel bag and Eddie in tow. Pam greeted you at the door and walked you through the house. She reminded you about where the pet food was and all the other things she thought you should know. Before she departed, she left you with some words you would never forget:

“Kids, sometimes weird things happen in the house. I don’t know. I wonder if maybe Lenny hasn’t moved on.”

“Say what now?” Eddie prompted.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, sometimes I just hear things sometimes, and I wonder if things get moved. Either that or I’m losing my mind.”

“Well we don’t want that," you said, and Eddie laughed a little too loudly.

“No, we would definitely prefer ghosts,” he said, making Pam actually laugh a little.

The first few days passed without incident. You and Eddie enjoyed playing with Toby, lounging about outside by the fire pit, watching TV with Jasper curled up on your lap, and picking apples from the gnarled old apple tree in the backyard. Out of respect for Pam and Lenny, you and Eddie shared the large sectional sofa in the living room; it was shaped like a large letter L so there was plenty of room for both of you.

One day, your curiosity got the best of you.

"Lenny was cremated, right?" you asked Eddie.

"Yeah, so I heard."

"So where are his ashes? I wonder if he’s in the house or if Pam scattered him somewhere,” you pondered, and then began looking around the house for an urn.

It had occurred to you that perhaps you were being disrespectful, but Lenny was such a sweet guy and you didn't think he would mind. Besides, part of you just really wanted to know if you were sharing a house with someone’s mortal remains.

Shortly afterward, you came across a small inconspicuous brown box on the nightstand between the couch and the sitting room wall, but it was on a lower shelf that was hidden from view by the sofa.

"Do you think he's in there?" Eddie asked.

"Only one way to find out."

You opened the box. Inside the box was a cylindrical, plain, brass-looking tin. The suspense was killing you both.

"I think that's it," Eddie said almost in a whisper.

"Well if it is," you said, "it isn't very ceremonial. It doesn't look anything like what I would expect an urn to look like."

"I think– well, when my mom died they gave us her ashes in something pretty plain. It’s up to the family to buy something nicer.”

“Oh I’m sorry babe,” you said, giving Eddie’s arm a squeeze. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, it’s okay,” Eddie said with a reassuring smile.

“But if that is Lenny, why is he tucked away out of sight as if she’s hiding him?”

"Maybe keeping it in view is too painful for her right now."

"Maybe it's just candy or something."

You went back and forth on this for a while, but you had to know for sure. You started to open the tin.

"Jesus, don't!" Eddie hissed.

"I’m sorry but I have to know," you said. “Besides, there’s no harm in just looking. I’m sure Lenny wouldn’t mind.”

“Ugh, fine,” Eddie said. "But if you let out a ghost, I'm blaming you."

You opened the tin. Inside the tin was a clear plastic bag containing the cremated remains of Lenny. You and Eddie stared silently at it for a moment. It definitely didn't look like what you had imagined the ashes of a cremated person to look like. You always thought it would look like...well, ashes. It didn't. It closely resembled gravel, and you could see little bits of bone as if someone had smashed up what was left with some sort of hammer. You immediately felt uneasy and replaced the lid.

"Wow. So that's....that's Lenny," Eddie said.

"Yeah," you replied simply. You weren't sure what else to say.

You silently sent an apology into the ether, feeling a little remorseful for prying.

You didn't talk about it much after that and went about your business, but you had the very unsettling realization that you had been sleeping with your head no more than six inches away from Lenny’s remains for days.

The following day it was raining and quite chilly, so you and Eddie spent most of the day inside watching TV. Somewhere around 8pm, the TV abruptly switched off.

"Did you lean on the remote?" you asked.

"No, it's right there on the table," Eddie replied.

That's strange... you thought to yourself. Then Pam’s voice echoed in your mind. Sometimes weird things happen. You shrugged it off.

You turned the TV back on and continued watching. About ten minutes later it switched to snow, then turned off again.

"What the hell..." You and Eddie said in unison.

Suddenly Toby the dog lifted his head and stared into the adjacent kitchen, a low growl emitting from his throat.

"Okay, that's freaky," Eddie said.

"Go look and see what it is," you said with wide eyes.

“Uh, I’d rather not."

You quickly dialed Nancy’s number to get her opinion, who told you your imaginations were running wild and you just had to calm down. She chatted with you for a while and nothing further happened, so you hung up and tried to distract yourself with a bit of making out. You had a hard time feeling interested in sex, however. You had the very unsettling feeling that you were being watched.

A couple more hours passed without anything odd happening, and you were beginning to feel quite sleepy. You realized that you didn't want to turn off the lights, and you also didn't want to keep sleeping on the couch next to Lenny’s remains. Ugh suck it up; what are you six years old? You thought to yourself, and laid down to go to sleep. You did leave a light on in the kitchen, however.

The night passed quietly, though sleep was difficult to find. You tossed and turned, and what little sleep you did achieve was filled with strange and frightening dreams. One dream that stood out consisted of you waking to go to the bathroom. As you passed the room that used to be Lenny’s office on the way to the toilet, you saw him. He was jogging on his treadmill whistling a happy tune, but he wasn't alive. As you paused in the doorway his head turned to look at you. He was burned black; one eye stared at you, and the other was burned away. His mouth was twisted into a horrible grin. For a fleeting moment you wondered how he could whistle with no lips, and then you screamed. You awoke with a start, and stared at the window for the rest of the night, waiting for the morning light.

The next day you spent the majority of it out of the house. You drove around and visited some friends, and grabbed a bite to eat at a local diner. You were avoiding the house, but neither of you would admit it. When you finally did return just before nightfall, you entered the house trepidatiously, as if something was going to jump out at you.

You were greeted by Toby, who wagged his tail and seemed very thrilled by your presence, which was comforting. You found fixings for s’mores in the kitchen, and built a fire in the pit in the backyard. As you sat at the crackling fire, your eyes were frequently drawn to the house, as if you would see someone walk past the window, or worse- a charred face grinning back at you. Eddie gently teased you for getting yourself “all worked up,” but you could tell he was uneasy too.

After a couple of hours the fire began to die out, and it was getting cold. You knew you had to go in, but you took your time gathering up all of your things. As you entered the house from the back door into the kitchen you spotted Toby, who was sitting in the living room at the doorway to the kitchen. It was the first time he hadn't greeted you at the door.

"Hey Toby! C'mere Toby!" you called. He wouldn't come. He didn't growl, he didn't cower, he just stared and wouldn't move.

"That is not like him at all," Eddie said.

"I know," you agreed with building unease.

You both continued calling to the dog, and after no success Eddie walked over to him. He took Toby’s collar by hand and gently pulled, speaking to him in a soothing voice, but he resisted.

He kept looking at you as if he wanted to come because he was a very good boy, but his attention was always drawn back to something else. Something past you, past the kitchen- toward the end of the house that contained the bathroom and Lenny’s office. Your mind was frantically trying to determine what would cause this sweet and intelligent dog to refuse to enter a room in his own house, and it freaked you out.

"Toby! COME!" you yelled.

You regretted shouting at the dog the moment you did it because just as you did, Toby lowered his head and practically crawled into the kitchen to your side where he stood with his tail between his legs, whimpering. You felt sorry for him, but it did nothing to assuage your growing fear.

You apologized to the dog and made your way into the living room, and Toby followed without protest. Too nervous to go right to bed after the event that had just occurred, you turned on the TV. Sure enough, after a few minutes it shut off.

"Maybe the TV is old, and there's something wrong with the wiring," Eddie said, though he seemed unconvinced.

"But how do you explain the rest of the weirdness?"

"Dunno. Maybe Nancy’s right and we're just letting our imaginations get carried away.”

Right after Eddie spoke, a white flash shot past the window.

"Did you see that?" you asked a little too loudly.

"Uh, yeah, I sure did," Eddie replied.

"Probably a white moth reflecting the light from the front porch light." you said. “Right?”

"Yeah, that would have had to be a very large moth.”

“But wait.... the front porch is on the other side of the house."

“You’re not helping,” Eddie said, his eyes darting around nervously.

You sat and stared at the windows for a while. After several minutes, it happened again.

“Alright, what the fuck was that??” Eddie said, his voice increasing in timbre.

"Big white moth, remember?" you weren’t sure why you were trying to convince yourself of this when you didn’t really believe it.

"Right. Big white moth."

Suddenly, right behind your heads on the wall against the sofa you were sitting on, there was a distinctive banging sound. Three distinctive raps, as if someone was pounding with their fist. Thump, thump, thump.

You screamed and Eddie jumped off the couch. The dog barked. It happened again, but it was louder. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP. Toby barked again, but he wouldn't go investigate as one would expect a dog to do. He was scared. So were you.

"What's on the other side of that wall?" Eddie asked.

"The bedroom!" you replied.

"We'll go together to see what it is."

"Are you crazy?!?"

"We have to see if someone is messing with us. What if someone broke in?" Eddie reasoned.

"How dare you use logic at a time like this? Fine. Grab the dog."

As you slowly made your way off the couch and toward the kitchen-- which the bedroom was off of on the left-- you attempted to summon the dog, who would have none of it.

"Forget Toby, he's not coming," Eddie said.

As you neared the bedroom door you heard another sound.

It sounded almost like a tea kettle going off to signify the water is boiling, only it wasn't constant. It fluctuated, almost like a person rubbing their finger across a freshly washed window. But it was loud, and it was in the room with you.

You both screamed and abandoned the bedroom inspection, and instead ran toward the bathroom to put some more distance between yourselves and that awful sound. As you ran past Lenny's study you remembered your nightmare, and squeezed your eyes shut as you hurried by, clutching Eddie’s hand as he guided you toward the bathroom.

The bathroom was at the far end of the house, directly across the hall from the front door. As you neared the bathroom you glanced toward the front door, and then a bolt of terror shot up your spine to your scalp, almost paralyzing you in place.

The front door was wide open.

Eddie was clever enough to grab the cordless phone before your flight to the other end of the house, and you locked ourselves in the bathroom.

"The front door is open! What the fuck? The front door is open!" you stammered in a panic.

"What?!?" Well...we have to close it!"

"I'm not leaving this room!"

"Jesus Christ! We can’t just leave the front door open!"

You called Nancy again. Eddie dialed while you professed your regret– out loud– to Lenny for interfering with his ashes. As usual, Nancy was not impressed. She said you were just being silly and needed to knock it off. Next, Eddie called Steve, who was more appropriately concerned and agreed to come right over, but he lived twenty minutes away. So you waited.

Nothing seemed to happen while you were in the bathroom. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, there was a knock on the bathroom door, making you scream.

"It's just me," Steve’s muffled voice proclaimed from the other side of the door, and you flung it open and practically strangled him with a huge hug.

"You guys left the front door wide open," he said. "You shouldn’t do that; it’s unsafe!"

For the remainder of the week you took care of the feeding and watering duties by arriving solely to do so, and then leaving as soon as you were done. You and Eddie were in agreement that you would not be spending another night in that place.

You told Pam about it, and she said that the strange behavior didn't seem like Lenny at all, but surmised that perhaps he was just trying to get your attention for some reason. Everyone’s heard the stories about people who die sudden deaths feeling confused and unable to move on; perhaps that was the case here. Maybe it wasn't Lenny at all, but something more malicious. You tried not to think about it too much.

Six months later, Pam dreamed of Lenny. In the dream Lenny was standing on a beach waving to Pam. She tried to run to him, but no matter how much she ran she couldn't catch up with him. She then realized with a stab of profound sadness that Lenny wasn't really trying to greet her, but he was actually saying goodbye.

He then turned and walked away from her, while Pam stood and watched. Once Lenny was out of sight, she felt a deep sense of relief. She never dreamed of him again.

A few months later the house burned down.

Thank you for reading! As always, comments and reblogs are the lifeblood of all fic writers. Please show us some love! :)

(yes, this is really a true story)

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson spooky fic

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moralesmilesanhour · 1 month

Text

another dimension.

summary: Miles pays Margo a visit. wc: 970-ish a/n: this mad short but I got rlly busy !! You'll definitely get long3er flowerbyte stuff in the future tho

Margo’s room was so cluttered she couldn’t think.

She’d been letting clothes and unfinished gadgets pile up on the floor and around her desk until you couldn’t even open the door all the way. The realization hit her when she lost a piece of the old vintage radio that Gwen had gifted her to tinker with, and it took her an hour to finally locate it by the foot of her bed.

Margo sat at its edge, re-organizing her gadgets into boxes by size. It made more sense to her than by type or function; when she was restoring an old iPod or laptop, she wouldn’t think, “Where’s the box for tools dedicated to x, y, and z,” she’d be thinking, “Where the fuck is that tiny thing that you need to turn on this other thing?”

At the bottom of one of her hot pink organizers, beneath a tangle of extension cords, Margo felt a round piece of metal. Her fingers brushed over what felt like buttons, and they closed around the mystery device to free it.

It was…oh.

Margo could’ve sworn she had put all of her polaroids and souvenirs in the ‘memories’ box. The memory in question was only a few months old, sure, but it was a memory nonetheless. After Spider Society dissolved, there was no reason for her to use it. At any rate, she had cyber-crimes to stop right here, at her own computer.

Still, she did miss Gwen bringing her old smartphones and wired headphones.

And him.

Margo didn’t like to think about him. Not by any fault of his, but because if she visualized the look he gave her as she tried to send him home, then suddenly those owlish eyes would appear in places they were not supposed to. Then, she would begin to imagine that she saw someone with the same afro pass her on the street, or swear that she heard his voice and wonder if he took his watch with him and kept it.

Margo’s watch was off, but it remained largely intact after The Spot. She stared at it for a moment, before gingerly snapping it around her wrist. She turned it this way and that, letting it catch the dim light of her desk lamp.

E-1610.

Margo had the right dimension this time, all she had to do was just–

She shook her head, hastily taking it off and tossing it back into the box. Now she remembered why the watch had been left there in the first place.

But it was too late, and the image of him grinning at her returned. As she knelt on the floor and resumed her organizing, her mind had begun to weave together a conversation.

Miles would greet her with a “hey”, and she’d “hey” back. Ask him how his parents took the news after everything went back to normal. He’d say he’s grounded, and it’d sound like the funniest thing in the world coming from him. She’d ask him about his hobbies (Miles looked like a gamer), and he would ask about hers. She’d lie and say she didn’t have time for any, and he’d laugh.

“I hear that,” he’d say.

She wondered if her imagination had conjured him up when that familiar flash of blinding light appeared where her closet was and became a spinning portal.

Margo almost didn’t recognize him when he pulled back his hoodie and took the mask off. The high-top fade was gone, replaced by a head of shoulder-length locs that coiled at the ends. But she’d recognize those eyes anywhere.

Her mouth opened and closed as she struggled to locate her words, which made Miles stifle a laugh.

“Miles?”

“Don’t know who else I’d be. Got a minute?”

Slowly reaching back into that same box, Margo breathed,

“Yeah, I…I got a minute.”

“So you’re only Spider-Man when you got the VR thing on?”

Miles called out as he shot another web and catapulted himself off of the roof of a moving truck, and Margo did the same. They landed right on top of Lenny’s Deli, from which they could see a bit of the horizon dotted with skyscrapers in the distance, right where the setting sun started to roll back some of its orange and give way to a wash of coral.

“Pretty much,” Margo answered, catching her breath. “You smell that?”

“Beef patties.”

“I haven’t had one of those in months.”

Miles’ mask squinted mischievously at the eyes. “You want me to get you one, huh?”

“Oh, it’s fine, you don’t have to–”

“I insist!”

Miles was already in the process of swinging down to street level. She shook her head and smiled, sitting with her legs crossed in the meantime.

He was back in a matter of minutes, mask rolled up halfway so that he could carry the brown paper bag from the deli between his teeth as he hauled himself over the ledge where Margo sat.

He opened it and removed his portion before handing the bag to her, but stopped short.

“Hol’ on, can you even eat?”

She threw her head back and laughed.

“You didn’t think about that before you spent your money there?”

“Well, you can take it back with you, probably,” he said as he let her take the bag from him.

“Thanks.”

They sat in silence as only Miles ate his food, watching the world below. Nobody appeared to be committing a robbery at the moment, so Margo eventually broke the silence first.

“So why’d you bring me over here, new guy?”

Miles snorted, “You know I’ve been doing this for almost two years now, right?”

“Well, you’re new to me.”

He leaned back on his elbows and hummed thoughtfully.

“Maybe I’d like to not be so new to you.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

#miles morales #miles morales fic #margo kess #atsv fic #flowerbyte #cybershock #cyberflower #moralesanhour

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katzell · 1 year

Text

Love, but not timing

Midge knows she's in love at the airport, and the realization is devastating.

I've been trying to track how Midge feels about Lenny for years. He's someone she aspires to be like. He's someone she can count on in a tight spot. He's the person guaranteed to make her laugh. And at the same time she craves a kind of intimacy from him. Midge wants his attention and loves that he flirts with her. And of course she's attracted him; she's got eyes. But Midge doesn't necessarily associate those things with love. Love is something women like Midge give to nice boys with day jobs who own property. For the first four seasons Midge is still an outsider in this other world of clubs and gigs, trying to learn its rules and its codes. Lenny is both an aspirational figure and a friend to Midge. But even when they sleep together I don't think she immediately sees it at love, but the natural escalation of a growing attraction. Oh its surprisingly lovely and wonderful. But before Midge can really parse that, Carnegie Hall happens.

At Carnegie Hall Midge loses face not just in the eyes of a lover but a mentor. He shatters her pride and lets her know she's been the one thing a Maisel never should be: stupid. That's a lot to process, particularly when you spend a few days in danger of losing a toe. But the conversation haunts her in a way that is familiar and awful. So Midge ignores it. And she certainly doesn't try to call. Midge wants the time to build herself back up again before she sees Lenny. She wants to come in from a position of strength. But there he is at the airport.

After she spots him, for a second Midge looks ready to bolt. But she can't, because for as much as she is hurting, the idea of ever walking away from Lenny is impossible. So she walks up using all of her willpower. And still, Midge looks like she might unravel when Lenny smiles, and even more when he tells her he's making a semi-permanent move to LA.

"Lucky girl," she says, when Lenny confesses his kid is moving in. Midge knows she's in love when she delivers that line, and also knows she can't possibly ask him not to go.

For his part, Lenny fell in love ages ago in a club in Florida.

To Lenny, Midge was a cute very funny girl who reminded him of the kind of girls he'd grown up with and the kind of girls who never paid him any attention. He revels in her gaze, in her wit, and in the way she thinks he's worth talking to. It's fun not to be the screw-up sometimes. Then Midge looks out for him, supports him, and lets him a little bit into her world, and Lenny has to admit Midge isn't just a girl anymore, but a friend. Everything Lenny learns about Midge is more impressive, more alluring.

In Florida he takes her out to his tv show and then to the club hoping to impress her in turn. He flirts with her because Lenny flirts with pretty girls. But you can see the world tilt under him as they stare at each other across the room. When they dance his ability to speak fails him. And when her head nestles into his shoulder Lenny knows he's absolutely gone.

If Lenny weren't in love with Midge he wouldn't have a problem waking up from a shitty night in her child's bedroom. Lenny isn't that fussy. But it's Midge, and he can't handle what he must look like, especially with this newfound glimpse into her home life. With Carnegie Hall Lenny can reclaim some dignity, let her put him back on his pedestal a little bit. He needs her to be impressed by him. Until, of course, he realizes the damage that little pedestal has actually done. Lenny doesn't call Midge. He's not good for her after all.

But at the airport I think he realizes she loves him back. It's just not enough to change anything. He can't offer her anything right now other than to push her towards her dream.

And maybe in a different world they'd meet again a few years down the line, and they'd fall back into the same dance, as if no time had passed at all.

#the marvelous mrs. maisel #midge maisel #lenny bruce #midge x lenny #luke kirby #rachel brosnahan #I never actually publish my meta #I prefer to just reblog all the people who pithier and cleverer #But if you don't see what you want to read you just got to suck it up and write it yourself #the marvelous mrs maisel

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f0rg3t-me-n0t · 3 months

Text

Shelter

🔞minors do not interact

Arthur Morgan x Reader

Summary: After fleeing to Colter you and Arthur take it upon yourselves to hunt some food for the gang. Everything goes south after a bear surprises you and you both have to take shelter in a small cabin.

Words: 10,3 k

Warnings: slight angst, fluff, one bed, smut, p in v, oral (female receiving), fingering

A/N: It’s been a while since I last wrote something. RDR kinda has me in a chokehold since a few months so I decided to write something for my boy Arthur <3 enjoy!

Masterlist

~~~

The area around Colter was extremely cold. That was the first thing you had learned when you and the gang arrived in the small abandoned mining town after fleeing from Blackwater.

Even inside the small cabin most of the gang stayed at during the day it was freezing. The fire that was burning inside the old fireplace didn’t help much and the general mood around the people was pretty low.

Blackwater had cost too much for nothing. Everything had gone so far south, that you didn’t even know if anything worse could’ve happened. You had lost Jenny and Davey and you had to leave Sean and Mac behind. Hell, you didn’t even know if both of them were still alive, plus, now all of you had a high bounty on your heads. The area around New Austin was completely taboo and the other states wouldn’t be completely safe either.

A sigh left your lips as you brushed your hands up and down your arms desperate for some warmth. Your gaze wandered around the room. Karen and Mary-Beth were talking in hushed voices, Mrs Grimshaw had her usual glare faced towards the snowy scenery outside, Hosea and Lenny were staring into the crackling fire and Abigail was tending to John who luckily had been found a day ago by Arthur and Javier. He had gotten lost in the snowstorm and nearly been killed by wolves.

Finally, you decided that you had to get outside for a bit. Colter was unforgiving. The gray landscape and the quietness and whisper of hushed voices were enough to make your mind go crazy about the last few days. The ache of your trembling body due to being tense constantly didn’t make it any better. You rubbed your hands together, breathing into them as you stepped towards the horses that were hitched in front of the cabin.

„You good, girl?“, you muttered and patted Willow, your horse, who greeted you with a gentle whinny.

You smiled as she nuzzled into you, searching your clothes for something to eat and a soft chuckle fell from your lips.

„I know. Here, that’s all I have.“, you said and pulled some crackers from the pocket of your coat.

Willow curiously sniffed the treat and looked at you a bit disappointed. She was more used to the apples and carrots you normally gave her.

„Don’t look at me like that.“, you sighed and offered her the crackers once more. „We’re all kinda low on food right now. It won’t be long until I can get you some fresh treats. I promise.“

At least you hoped your words were true and you stretched your hand out for her. Again she sniffed the crackers that lay on your flat hand and finally, she took them from you.

„That’s my girl.“, you muttered with a sad smile and gently caressed her neck, then you heard some footsteps.

Curiously you turned your head and noticed Arthur walking over to his horse that stood right next to yours.

„Arthur.“, you greeted him and he gave you a little nod, then his steps slowed down and he gave his mount a gentle pat.

Even though he had lost his trusty mare Boadicea during the mess of Blackwater he still took good care of the old horse that he had picked up when he, Dutch, and Micah had stumbled upon the Adler widow.

You both had never talked much with each other apart from a bit of small talk so it quickly fell silent again and you looked back at Willow who was still chewing on the crackers you had given her.

With a sigh you began to pat her once more, your fingers slowly tracing through her thick and warm fur coat. By repeating the motion you tried to get some warmth off of her but your fingers nearly felt like they were frozen by now.

„Damn it.“, you cursed quietly and rubbed your hands together, blowing against them.

You would kill for some gloves. It had been a few months since you had joined the gang and until then you had only stayed in the warmer region of New Austin. Due to this, you hadn’t been prepared for what was to come after Blackwater and even the girls didn’t have a spare pair for you. „Luckily“ they had been able to give you poor Jenny‘s winter coat, bless her soul. You still couldn’t believe she was dead.

As your thoughts started to wander you didn’t notice Arthur’s gaze on you.

„Y/N.“, his voice finally managed to pull you out of your daze.

„Oh, I’m sorry!“, you flinched a bit and looked at him. „Did you say something?“

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he pulled something from his saddle bags.

„Here.“, he then stepped closer to you. „You can have these. I don’t need 'em anymore.“

Arthur offered you a pair of woolen gloves. There were a few loose threads and they were riddled with holes here and there, but they would surely warm your hands up.

„Oh.“, you muttered softly.

You hadn’t expected this. Especially since the two of you hadn’t exchanged more than a few sentences since you had become part of the gang.

„Thanks…that’s…real nice.“, you didn’t quite know what to say, but you were really thankful.

„Don’t mention it.“, he waved it off immediately, humble as always. „I don’t want you to freeze your fingers off. You still need 'em.“

He stretched his hand out and you finally took the gloves from him to put them on. They were a bit big but you felt better immediately. Arthur gave it a nod of approval, then he set into motion again, heading for the small cabin he, Dutch, Molly, and Hosea were staying in.

„I’ll see you around.“, he said and you could only mumble a quick „Y-Yeah.“.

Your gaze followed him until he was out of sight and you were still pretty taken aback by what had just happened. Sure, he had never given you any reason to think bad of him or make you think that he didn’t like you, but you knew that he was one to be skeptical of new additions to the gang, so it had been quite the surprise.

Slowly you rubbed your hands together again, the woolen fabric leaving a comforting feeling on your skin and another shout of your name made your head turn to the cabin you had left a while ago.

It was Miss Grimshaw. Of course, it was.

„Miss L/N! The work won’t do itself!“, she ushered and you rolled your eyes.

„Coming!“, you shouted back and gave your horse one last pat before you headed back inside.

~~~

The mood around the gang seemed to be getting worse and worse by the day. The Blackwater massacre was still deeply embedded in everyone’s minds and being on the last few rations of food didn’t make it any better.

After doing some chores you had decided to sneak away to escape the rest of the gang for a while. It just felt awful being with grumpy people the whole day and you were longing for some much-needed time to calm your nerves and mind. Strolling around the old abandoned mining town you hoped for some interesting discoveries, but after half an hour you gave up. Colter was just as boring as the gray scenery gave away.

With a huff, you kicked some snow around and slowly made your way back. Miss Grimshaw was surely looking for you by now anyway. Just when you arrived by your horse you overheard a conversation between Pearson, Charles, and Arthur.

„We really need some food.“, Pearson sighed. „I only have a few more supplies and people will begin starving by tomorrow evening if we don’t manage to hunt something. I already sent Lenny and Bill and they found nothing.“

Arthur chuckled after this.

„Well, Lenny's more into book readin' than huntin'. Bill's a fool.“, he snorted and pointed to the mountains in the background. „Unless those mountains are full of game that wanna read... ain't no wonder they found-“

„Enough of this. We'll go find something.“, Charles cut his words short with a sigh and they both started to walk towards their horses, coming closer to you in the process.

„What about your hand?“, Arthur asked and cocked an eyebrow as he looked at Charles. „You can't go hunting with that wound.“

You bit your lip as you eavesdropped. He was right. Charles had burned his hand during the chaos in Blackwater. He wouldn’t be of much use during the hunt apart from maybe helping him to track something.

Should you offer your help? After all, you had often accompanied your father on his hunting trips before your parent had been killed and you had to manage your life on your own.

You gulped hard as the memories came back, but still decided to speak up.

„Arthur. Charles.“, you approached the two men who were still arguing and preparing their horses.

They immediately turned around to you with questioning faces.

„Hello Y/N.“, Charles greeted you and Arthur gave you the usual nod. „What is it?“

„I…uh…I kinda overheard your conversation and…“, you scratched your neck. „I thought I could go with Arthur. I have a bit of hunting experience so it would be no problem for me. You should rest, Charles. Your hand needs time to heal.“

In the beginning, your voice had been a bit meek and shaky but towards the end, it had gotten stronger as you found your confidence. You really wanted to help. Well, maybe not just that. Being away from camp would surely do you good, but you still mostly wanted to contribute to getting some food for everyone.

„You sure?“, Arthur furrowed his brows, while Charles seemed to be pondering about your offer.

„Yeah.“, you nodded eagerly. „I‘ve hunted a few deer and rabbits, one time even an elk.“

It went silent and the two men were deep in thoughts.

„Well….we both know that you can handle a gun.“, Charles then said. „But you really gotta make sure that you catch something. We all depend on you. Are you sure you can do that?“

Arthur nodded in agreement and you went quiet for a moment as you reminisced your previous hunting experiences. You felt their eyes still boring into you as you snapped back to reality and finally nodded.

„I’m sure.“, you then confirmed.

You felt nervous as you said this, after all, it meant that there was no option to fail, but your voice was firm.

„Alright then.“, Arthur muttered and Charles gave in.

„Fine. I‘ll leave you two to it then.“, he said. „Be careful.“

With that, he left the both of you alone.

The relief made you breathe out, a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in and you went over to Willow to get her ready for the trip.

„You ready?“, Arthur asked when you hat mounted her and you led your horse next to his with a nod. „Here. You’ll need this.“

He handed you a rifle that you hung over your torso, then you both finally left Colter. You rode silently for a while, following some leads Charles had given Arthur earlier, but soon Arthur spoke up.

„How come you have huntin‘ experience?“, he asked. „I always thought you were a thief and provided yourself like that. At least that’s what Dutch and Hosea told me.“

You met his blue eyes and sighed.

„You know, I had a pretty normal life before the thievery.“, you chuckled sadly. „I often went out with my Pa. He taught me all I know.“

After you had spoken Arthur just kept on looking at you for a while, his lips tightened and eyebrows furrowed.

„I see.“, he then muttered and didn’t press any further.

It was like he had sensed that this was a sensitive topic for you.

Quietness engulfed the both of you again and you now began to look around for traces of animals since you both were nearing that spot Charles had told Arthur about.

After some time you noticed some dung and tracks in the snow.

„Here. I found something.“, you said and stopped Willow to dismount. „We should continue by foot.“

Arthur was with you seconds later and his gaze wandered over your findings.

„Must be some deer.“, he guessed and you nodded.

„Yeah, I’m pretty sure it is. They must’ve been here recently. Come on, let’s follow the tracks.“

You slowly began to move and Arthur followed right behind you. The snow crunched underneath your boots as you made your way through some trees and soon enough you spotted two does in the distance. Your steps halternd and you gave Arthur a sign to slow down as well.

„There.“, you whispered and pointed towards the animals. „Let’s get a bit closer. Be quiet.“

„Sure.“, he answered in a hushed voice and you both sneaked on.

This time you stopped him by his shoulder when you thought the distance was small enough. He had nearly been a bit too eager to get closer to the wildlife.

„That’s enough.“, you mumbled. „We‘ll scare them away if we get any closer.“

Arthur cocked an eyebrow as he turned his gaze to you.

„If you say so.“, he said, not really sounding like he believed your words.

Of course, he had a bit of hunting experience, and since the does still hadn’t noticed you he would’ve gone a bit farther. Just then the two animals looked up and he fell silent immediately.

„No word.“, you whispered. „You get the right one, I’ll take out the left one.“

You slowly pulled the rifle from your back and aimed for your target, movements calm and precise so as not to scare them away. Arthur did the same and you breathed out deeply before looking at him.

„On three.“, you muttered. „One.“

The both of you turned your gazes back towards the deer.

„Two.“

Your finger began to close in on the trigger.

„Three.“

Two gunshots rang through the air as you breathed out and you held the position until you could confirm that the both of you had managed to kill your prey.

„Would you look at that.“, Arthur seemed pretty satisfied with the outcome and rose to his full height as hung the rifle over his back again.

„We did it.“, you nodded and walked up to the dead animals with him.

„I gotta say.“, he began to speak as he kneeled next to the doe he had shot. „I was a bit skeptical about your abilities at first but I guess you proved me wrong.“

His gaze met yours.

„You did good.“, he added.

There was a barely noticeable smile on his lips and you felt some blush creep into your cheeks.

„T-Thanks, I guess.“, you said and cleared your throat. „I’m just glad that everything turned out well. Would’ve been some real trouble if we didn’t catch anything.“

„Right.“, Arthur chuckled and lifted one of the does. „You had quite some pressure on yourself there. But you managed well. Let’s get 'em back to camp now. The sun will set soon.“

You just nodded and Arthur helped you to stow the other deer on your horse after he was done with the one he had shot, then the both of you set off.

For a while, it was silent until Arthur asked you about your little „adventures“ with your father. You hesitated at first, not quite ready to talk about this still-aching wound but after a few seconds of considering you began to talk.

The talking lasted quite some time and it somehow did you good to talk about these memories. Every thought about your parents had hurt incredibly after they had been killed during a robbery. But talking to Arthur about your father was relieving, that you couldn’t deny.

After you were done with your stories you both rode in silence again. You were dwelling in the past for a bit, your gaze slowly wandering over the landscape in front of you, then it fell on Arthur who seemed to be a bit in thought as well. With a soft sigh, you averted your eyes from him to your hands that were holding the reigns.

For a few seconds, you just started at them, then you said: „Thanks for the gloves again.“

His eyes met yours and he looked a bit puzzled as if he didn’t get what you had said to him.

„I just wanted to thank you for the gloves once more. My fingers would’ve already frozen off if it weren’t for you.“, you repeated yourself and chuckled.

A lopsided smile sneaked its way on his lips and he waved it off like the last time.

„'M glad to help. You’re better off with 'em than I was“, he shrugged.

„Still.“, you insisted. „It’s not your task to look after me but you did nevertheless. I’m grateful for that.“

Now he just looked at you for a bit before he cleared his throat and nodded. He had never been good with people thanking him but you didn’t press it further. You knew he appreciated your words.

It fell silent again and suddenly your horse flinched, making you look at her.

„What is it, girl?“, you looked at Willow who was now tippling around nervously, deep exhales forming vapor from her nostrils.

„Stop.“, Arthur’s stern voice made you face him and he pointed towards the trees next to you.

Your eyes followed the direction and widened when they settled on a bear. It was slowly emerging from some trees. Your heart began to pound faster in your chest and you gripped the reigns tighter.

„Don’t move.“, Arthur whispered and you gulped heavily as you nodded.

Just then the predator noticed the both of you and started to head directly towards you, its steps fastening. Now, Arthur gave you a sign to carefully back away. He reached for the rifle on his back and just when he pointed it at the bear everything happened so fast that you couldn’t react.

Willow whinnied hysterically and the bear let out an angry roar. Immediately your spooked horse started to bolt and you were holding on for dear life as she galloped away with you.

„Shhh, easy girl!“, you tried to calm her down, but it was no use.

The fear had consumed her completely and it was like you were riding a wild beast instead of the calm mare she usually was.

„Calm down, Willow! It’s okay!“, you spoke or well, shouted at her through the turmoil.

She was directly heading towards a patch of trees and you desperately pulled the reigns to stop her, which only made her climb and finally, you fell. The air was pushed out of your lungs as your back hit the ground hard. You cried out in pain and in the corner of your eye you could see her running away as fast as she could, then she was gone.

„Damn it.“, you murmured and sat up, rubbing your back.

„Y/N!“, you heard Arthur’s shout in the distance and looked behind you.

He was directly steering towards you on his horse, the bear still hot on his tail and your eyes widened.

„Oh hell no!“, you blurted out and then you began to run.

As fast as you could you sprinted for that patch of trees, hoping to not end up as that bear‘s dinner, but before you could reach it you were suddenly lifted from the ground. The impact knocked the breath from you again and before you knew it you were sitting in front of Arthur, his arm tightly wrapped around your waist as he ushered his horse to go faster, faster and escape that bear.

„Hold on tight! I’ll get us out of here!“, he assured you as you’re gazes finally met, your eyes staring at him like that deer before you had shot it earlier.

You gulped hard and gave him a slow nod, then you slung your arms around his torso, your eyes peeking over his shoulder as the two of you fled through the slowly falling snowflakes.

Through all the trouble you hadn’t even noticed that it had begun to snow, but now you also felt how the wind increased. Surely another snowstorm was nearing. Just perfect.

Again your eyes fell on the bear. It was slowly falling behind and a few more seconds and even more distance later it finally gave up and headed into the woods.

„It’s gone.“, you breathed out in relief and Arthur slowed down his horse, the grip on your waist loosening.

„Took it long enough.“, he muttered as you leaned back.

Your eyes met his, then they wandered to the tight space between your bodies, noticing how close you were. Immediately blush crept into your cheeks and you cleared your throat, squirming a bit uncomfortably in front of him.

„We need to find Willow.“, you said and averted your gaze from him to scan the landscape for any traces of her.

You had to squint your eyes as the storm had picked up a bit and the sun had begun to set. It would be pitch black soon. Arthur sighed behind you and scooted a bit backwards to give you more space.

„Listen…“, he then said softly. „I know how important that horse is to you, but…we won’t find her right now. Not with those conditions.“

He gestured around with his hands and you looked at him, opening your mouth to insist on finding your mare, but he already spoke again.

„It’s hard to lose a horse. Believe me…I know that.“, he tightened his lips. „But I don’t even know where we are right now. We gotta make sure to find our way back to camp first or find some shelter, plus we gotta wait the storm out.“

He now gave you a sorry look.

„But if you ask me. 'M sure your girl will be fine and already waitin' back at Colter for us. She’s clever.“, he then added, trying to calm your racing thoughts.

You chewed on your lip as you listened to him. He was right. You both just would get yourself killed if you looked for Willow right now.

„Alright.“, you muttered, your shoulders slumping down in defeat. „Let’s try to get back to camp then.“

Arthur hummed and gave your shoulder a gentle pat, then he nodded over his shoulder.

„You wanna change the position? You could sit behind me. 'M sure it’s not that comfortable sittin' on the front of my saddle.“

Immediately you nodded. Your behind did hurt a bit, plus you were nearly sitting on his lap which made you quite nervous. Not that you found Arthur unattractive, but it felt strange with you both never having talked much to each other until this day. A lot had changed now, but it still felt too intimate for your liking.

After your answer, you carefully jumped down from the horse, next, Arthur lent you a hand to help you settle behind him. You sighed in relief when you were finally sat, glad about having your legs on both sides of the animal now and also about a much more comfortable base.

„Alright, let’s go, boy.“, Arthur clicked his tongue after you had placed your hands on both sides of his waist and ushered his horse on.

As you stomped through the storm the both of you kept an eye out for any familiar structures that would help you remember the way back to Colter but the nastier the weather got and the more the night set in you slowly lost hope.

„Darn it.“, you heard Arthur mumble after what felt like hours.

You were shivering badly behind him, trembling against his back that gave you some shelter from the unforgiving snow that was relentlessly falling on you.

„We need to find some shelter. It’s no use keepin' on searchin' without being able to see clearly.“, Arthur finally spoke up. „Also we gotta warm up or we‘ll freeze to death. I can feel you tremblin' in my bones.“

„S-Sorry.“, you answered a big embarrassed through chattering teeth.

You hadn’t thought that it was that bad.

„'S okay.“, Arthur assured you. „Nothin' to be sorry about.“

With that, he led his horse towards the trees to your right. At least you would have somewhat of a shelter from the snow there. You slowly looked around as you rode deeper into the woods and just then your eyes caught the dark outlining of a building.

„Arthur.“, you muttered weakly, the hypothermia already getting to you.

He grunted in response.

„T-There. A c-cabin.“

You stretched out your trembling hand and pointed in its direction.

„Well spotted.“, Arthur muttered and immediately steered his horse towards the little house. „Come on. Let’s get you inside.“

He dismounted and hitched his horse, then he helped you from its back. By now you were trembling so bad that you didn’t have the strength to do it yourself anymore. Gently he reached for your waist and pulled you down, his hand rubbing your back when you finally stood next to him.

„Get in, I’m right behind you.“

Arthur held the door open for you and you gave him a weak but thankful smile before you entered the cabin. It was small. A single bed stood in the right corner, a fireplace right next to it. Not far from the bed was a small table with two chairs and to the left of the entrance you could see an old stove with a cabinet. It all seemed to be abandoned for a while now.

„I’ll start a fire.“, Arthur said after he had closed the door behind you, finally stopping the merciless assault of the cold wind and snow. „Here, eat this. You need to get some energy.“

He reached into his satchel and pulled a tin of salted offal from it. You scrunched your face in disgust as you took it from him, which made him chuckle.

„I know it ain’t exactly what you would prefer right now, but that’s all I have. Pearson gave it to me before we set out.“, he patted your back, then he went to grab some firewood from the stack next to the fireplace, but stopped in his tracks. „Unless you want some deer meat. It’s still stowed on my horse.“

Arthur looked back at you and you sighed before shaking your head.

„I-It’s fine. You’ve been cold long enough, too.“, you said. „I’ll survive…e-even if it means that I have to eat…this.“

You opened the tin with your shaking hands and gave the contents a sniff, which turned out to be a bad mistake. Immediately you had to gag and put the tin down on the table.

„Let me correct myself.“, you muttered sourly. „I’d rather starve than eat this.“

A grin made its way on Arthur’s lips as he watched you and finally, he shook his head.

„Not under my watch. I’ll get us some meat. I gotta eat too and to be honest…nothing will get me to eat that stuff.“, he said and grabbed his hunting knife before he opened the door to head outside again.

„Arthur…“, you protested, but he was already gone, the door closing with a harsh thump.

You softly exhaled and sat down on the chair as you waited for him. Despite your objection, you were thankful that he was getting the both of you some real food.

Just minutes after he finally returned a big chunk of meat in his hand. He had wrapped it in a cloth and handed it to you.

„Hold onto this while I take care of the fire.“, he said and you nodded, then he finally went back to get some wood.

Soon it crackled inside the fireplace as the flames danced around and the both of you sat down in front of it, eager to catch some warmth. The cabin was still pretty cold, but you hoped it would get better now that you had ignited a fire.

„Now for our dinner.“, Arthur looked at you and you gave him the wrapped meat, which he quickly unpacked and diced.

„I reckon it’ll be faster to grill it over the fire instead of heating the stove for it.“, he muttered as he sliced the meat into thinner pieces.

„Sounds good to me.“, you nodded and watched him skewer a piece of meat onto his hunting knife, then he handed it to you and pulled out another knife to use for himself. „Thank you.“

You scooted a bit closer to the fire and held out your hand with the knife to slowly grill the meat. It only took a few minutes and during this time you warmed up immensely from being so close to the fire. A comfortable sigh left your lips after you took a bite and Arthur’s gaze fell on you.

„Feelin' better?“

„Yeah.“, you gave him a little smile as you chewed on your food. „'M glad we found this cabin.“

„Me, too.“, he agreed and pulled his knife back to eye his dinner.

When he was sure it was all cooked through he bit off a piece.

„You know.“, he mumbled while chewing. „I was gettin' real worried about you. You could’ve gone hypothermic, hell, I think you were pretty close, but luckily you still managed to spot this hut.“

„Mhm…“, you hummed softly. „'M still pretty surprised about it, too.“

You chuckled and he gave you a smile after biting off another chunk of meat.

„Well, it probably saved our lives.“, he then said. „Let’s hope the storm calms down overnight. We still gotta make sure to get the rest of that deer to camp tomorrow or else people really will begin starvin'.“

„Right.“, now you sighed and your thoughts wandered to your horse. „Maybe Willow managed to get back. Last I’ve seen, she still had that deer stowed on her back.“

You hoped your words were true. Willow had been your trusty mare ever since you had been on your own and you couldn’t imagine losing her. But Arthur was right. She was a clever girl so it wasn’t that far-fetched that she might already be waiting for you by the time you would arrive back home tomorrow.

„It’s a good thought.“, Arthur murmured and looked at you. „Your girl will be alright. I’m sure of it.“

It was like he had sensed your worries and he patted your shoulder before standing up.

„We should call it a night…regain some energy. We might need it tomorrow.“, he said and nodded towards the bed. „You take this, I’ll sleep on the floor.“

„Thank you.“, your gaze followed him as he went to fetch his bedroll from his horse.

As the door opened you could see that the storm was still raging outside and sighed softly.

Who could’ve known that this day would end like this? Your horse gone and you and Arthur in this cabin, stuck for however long this weather would continue.

You rose to your feet now, too, and walked over to the bed, sitting down on the squeaky bed frame. It wasn’t exactly comfortable but it was surely better than sleeping on the floor. You were really thankful that Arthur was such a gentleman.

Soon he returned and set up his bedroll in front of the fireplace before he grabbed another piece of wood to keep the fire going.

„That’s the last one.“, he sighed. „Let’s just hope we sleep through. It’ll surely cool down fast after the fire is out.“

You hummed in response and watched the flames consume the log for a while, then you looked at Arthur who was getting comfortable on his bedroll.

„Thanks again for leaving the bed to me.“, you said and your eyes met.

„Don’t mention it.“, he waved it off and held the eye contact for a few seconds before he turned his back to you. „Can’t have a lady sleepin' on the floor.“

His answer made you smile softly and you finally laid down, tugging the old blanket over your body.

„Good night, Arthur.“, with those words you closed your eyes.

„Good night.“, you heard him mumble back and only seconds later you were gone, no wonder, the day had really drained you.

~~~

You were awoken by the howling of the wind sneaking its way through the old cabin. Next, you noticed how badly you were shivering again and looked over to the fireplace that seemed to have gone out long ago.

„Damn it.“, you muttered quietly and pulled the blanket tighter around you.

It was riddled with holes so it didn’t really help much and you sighed discontentedly. So much for your hopes of sleeping through.

Your eyes met Arthur’s sleeping form. He must’ve turned during the night because he was facing you again. His facial expression seemed tense and he also trembled barely noticeable. As you kept on watching him you couldn’t help but be thankful that you hadn’t gotten separated by that bear, it was already bad enough that Willow had run away.

„Do I have somethin' on my face or why you starin' at me?“, Arthur suddenly mumbled and his eyes opened.

You flinched a bit and immediately averted your gaze from him as a blush crept into your cheeks.

„S-Sorry, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Didn’t know you were awake, too.“, you apologized and he chuckled softly.

„'S okay.“, he said. „You alright?“

His eyes wandered over your shivering body.

„Yeah.“, you nodded with a sigh. „It’s just pretty darn cold.“

„Mhm, tell me about it.“, Arthur grinned with a pained expression. „Maybe I should look for some wood outside, get that fire goin' again.“

He sat up but you stopped him.

„You really wanna go out in that storm? It’s even worse than when we went to sleep.“, you frowned and he shrugged.

„We need to warm up.“, he said. „Neither us will go back to sleep while shakin' like a leaf.“

You bit your lip and watched him stand up to walk over to the door. He even struggled to open it due to how much snow had piled up in front of it and how strong the wind was. At that moment you pitied his horse who had to stay outside but luckily the cabin had a little covered outside area where Arthur had hitched it so it was at least protected from the snow.

Arthur peeked outside for a moment, then he closed the door again and shook his head.

„Maybe you’re right.“, he said with a soft chuckle and laid back down on his bedroll. „Let’s…let’s just try to get some more rest. Ain’t got any other options, I guess.“

His eyes met yours and you nodded, still huddled up under that blanket. Somehow you both just kept on looking at each other and it seemed like he was pondering.

„You know…“, he mumbled after a while. „I know it…might be an absurd idea…but…we could share that bed. Sharing our remaining body heat could help us both warm up.“

He fell silent, waiting for your answer.

„Only if you're comfortable with it…I know we ain’t exactly close.“, he added.

His words made your heart rate pick up immediately. It had been quite some time since you had last shared your bed with a man. Though it hadn’t been just for sleeping.

„I…“, you began and cleared your throat. „Uh…yeah. That’s okay with me.“

Arthur sat up and cocked an eyebrow.

„You sure?“

You looked at him as he stood up and chewed on your lip, then you nodded.

„Y-Yeah.“

„Alright.“, Arthur came closer and you scooted over to make some place for him.

He lifted the blanket and slipped under it while you turned your back to him, suddenly nervous. You felt him settle behind you and after a few seconds, his arm hesitantly sneaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You gulped hard but you couldn’t deny that you already felt less colder.

„That okay?“, he whispered and you nodded.

„Yeah.“

It fell silent and you closed your eyes, trying to finally fall back asleep and also calm yourself down. Your heart was still pounding far too fast inside your chest but a little part of you also liked how this felt. Arthur was an attractive man and now you had also learned that he was really kind, too. First the gloves, then him comforting you about Willow and offering you the bed, and now this.

Slowly you felt yourself calm down but even though you already had warmed up a bit with Arthur’s body right behind yours you couldn’t help but still tremble. You just weren’t made for this kind of region, not with you living most of your life in the hot area of New Austin.

„You’re still shiverin'.“, Arthur seemed to have noticed it, too.

His hand gently brushed up and down your side.

„Y-Yeah. I’m…really not used to this weather.“, you bit your lip, the feeling of his touch somehow making your heart beat faster again.

He hummed as he acknowledged your words and it was quiet for a few seconds before he began to speak.

„I…uh…I heard sharin' body heat works better with…less clothes.“, he seemed to be clearly embarrassed about his own words. „N-Not that I wanna do…uh…things with you…I just…“

He fell silent, fumbling hard with his words.

„Oh.“, you just managed to say and you blushed hard.

It was uncomfortable how awfully quiet it had gotten now apart from the raging storm, but after some time you nodded. You trusted him, that you had learned today, and you knew that he wouldn’t take advantage of you.

„Alright then.“, you finally answered and sat up.

You didn’t look at him but you could feel his surprised gaze on you before he turned away and began to undo his coat. After discarding your own one you pulled your woolen topper over your head. You hesitated as you reached for the blouse you were wearing under it. It would be the last item of clothing before your torso would be only clad in your undergarments. With a deep breath, you finally discarded it and quickly shimmied your pants off, then you pulled the blanket over your body again, now only dressed in your underwear. From the corner of your eye, you could see that Arthur had stripped down to his union suit and unbuttoned the top part before slipping out of the sleeves so he was bare-chested. Next, he faced you again and your eyes met, you blushing even harder, but you also noticed some faint redness on his cheeks.

„Uh…just…just turn around again.“, he mumbled and broke the eye contact, waiting for you to follow his order.

You quickly did and his hand gently touched your naked skin as he put his arm around your waist, making your breath hitch in your throat. Nervously you chewed on your lip as he scooted closer to you, his chest flush against your back and you could hear him gulp hard.

„J-Just tell me if anythin' makes you uncomfortable, alright?“, he then said.

You could just nod, your voice stuck inside your throat all of a sudden. After another shaky breath, you closed your eyes and it went silent, making you more well aware of everything that was happening. Your heart was pounding fast inside your chest, just like his against your back. Nervous inhales and exhales filled the silence and the touching of your skin made your mind race.

Why the hell was Arthur lying with you making you feel like this? It wasn’t even like anything more than that would happen.

Again you began to chew on your lip and even though the shaking of your body slowly subsided you just couldn’t seem to get some rest. His breath against your neck, his hand on your stomach, his body spooning yours…it was enough to make your thoughts wander, wander further than you had ever thought it would.

How would his lips feel? What would it feel like to be his, your body under his as he slowly pushes his-

You stopped your thoughts there, heavily blushing as you sighed shakily.

Why the hell were you having these thoughts right now? You barely knew him.

„You okay?“, Arthur suddenly asked.

„S-Sure.“, you nodded immediately, trying to not let those sinful thoughts get to you.

„We can…stop if it’s too uncomfortable for you.“, he suddenly said and you looked at him over your shoulder, your gaze meeting his. „I know it must be real strange doing this with a feller you barely know.“

He averted his gaze from you, his hand retreating from your waist, which made you turn around to him.

„It’s…it’s not that.“, you tried to assure him and his blue eyes met yours again. „It’s just…unfamiliar, but I’m not uncomfortable.“

Your voice was barely a whisper. His face was only inches away from yours which you didn’t realize right away, but when his hand settled on your skin again you suddenly became well aware.

„You sure?“, he muttered and licked his lower lip.

Slowly you nodded, not breaking the eye contact and his hand wandered higher to rest against your cheek.

„Me, too.“, he whispered. „'S like…I can’t manage to calm my thoughts around you.“

Now his gaze fell onto your lips.

„Why the hell can’t I stop thinkin' about ya?“

His face came closer to yours and he stopped just before his mouth could meet your own.

You breathed out shakily.

„'S not just you.“, you mumbled, your eyes meeting his one last time before you leaned in to close the gap.

Your lips met in a hesitant kiss and he softly groaned against your mouth, then he pulled you closer into him, kissing you with more intent, and gods did it feel good. You didn’t even know why you had craved this so much but it was unlike any other kiss you had had before.

„What are you doin' to me?“, Arthur muttered against your lips and began to leave little pecks on your jawline, trailing down to your neck.

You exhaled softly and your body automatically arched against his as the kisses became more open-mouthed and sloppy, making more and more want flood your body.

„A-Arthur…“, you whined.

„Please tell me you want me.“, he muttered against your skin, his voice desperate.

You nodded as he then looked up at you.

„Want all of you.“, you whispered and he smiled in relief before he kissed you gently.

„Would’ve never thought that we’d end up like this, but I ain’t complaining.“, he gave your waist a squeeze and you chuckled softly against his lips.

His kisses became more urgent then and his tongue sneaked its way into your mouth, meeting yours gently at first. Before you knew it you both were panting against each other as the kiss turned heated and sloppy, all tongues and teeth. During this he moved on top of you, settling between your thighs, and began to grind against you, making you feel how hard he was for you.

„P-Please…“, you whimpered weakly into the kiss and he chuckled before he looked at you with lust-filled eyes.

„Oh, I know what you need, darlin'.“, he assured you and leaned in again to trail kisses from your neck to your cleavage. „Let’s get this off of you.“

His hands grabbed the bottom of your chemise and slowly pulled it up, revealing your breasts to him and he groaned softly.

„Look at ya…so pretty.“, he mumbled, then his head dipped so he could wrap his lips around one of your nipples, while his hand gently massaged your other breast.

A quiet moan escaped you and you buried your fingers in his hair, tugging at the strands a bit. With a pop he released your nipple to take care of the other one, making his way to it with hot kisses and you squirmed under him impatiently.

„Hold still, darlin'.“, he muttered against your naked skin, his darkened eyes meeting yours shortly. „Gotta get you warmed up for me first.“

A huff left your lips and he chuckled, then he finally descended lower, his mouth grazing over your ribs, and your navel until his teeth nipped on the hem of your bloomers and you somehow couldn’t help but feel nervous all of a sudden.

Arthur seemed to notice it.

„You shiverin' 'cause you’re cold or what’s wrong?“, he asked and sat up, his hands gently caressing your sides in a calming way.

You sighed softly

„It‘s just…been a while since I last laid with a man.“, you then muttered.

He hummed in response and leaned down to give you a gentle kiss on the forehead.

„'S all okay, darlin'.“, he reassured you. „I’ll take good care of ya. You just relax and enjoy it.“

Arthur gave you a lingering peck on the cheek, then his lips connected with yours again in a sweet but also needy kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and making you yearn for more. His hand gave your hip a gentle squeeze as he continued to move his lips against yours, then he sneaked his fingers along your thigh and finally to your aching center. You whined against his mouth when he slowly drew circles on your sensitive flesh.

„That’s it.“, Arthur whispered when you spread your legs more for him, eager to get more of that addictive feeling.

He put a bit more pressure into his touch and continued with this for a few more seconds before he sat up again, you following his lips with a whine, not ready to part from him yet.

„Don’t ya worry, I’ll make you feel even better in a bit.“, he said with a smile, his hand against your cheek before he leaned in and gave you a peck, then his fingers hooked into the sides of your bloomers. „Just need to take these off.“

With that Arthur pulled and you leaned back with a soft sigh, lifting your hips to help him undress you. When he was done his eyes wandered over your naked body in awe and his hand gently traced your curves.

„Such a pretty girl.“, he muttered and dipped his head down to meet the skin under your navel, making you gasp softly as he came closer to where you needed him.

„Please, Arthur.“, you whispered, arching into him, desperate to feel him.

„Patience, darlin'.“, he smirked at you and skipped your glistening heat to kiss the inside of your thighs before he hooked your legs over his strong shoulders.

Your heartbeat quickened and you bit your lip as you watched him slowly kiss his way closer and closer to your folds and just when you were about to beg once more he finally licked a long strip through them, making you moan in surprise. You grabbed into the mattress underneath you as your body grew weak and your eyes rolled back.

„Oh god.“, you whispered and Arthur began to circle his tongue around your little bundle of nerves, his fingers gently caressing your thighs during this.

Again a soft moan escaped you and he hummed in encouragement, his hands spreading you more open to him as he moved his tongue against you harder, faster, intent to get you to that point of no return. Once more your hands found their way into his hair and then you couldn’t help but moan louder, freely, while he smiled against you.

„You sound so fuckin' pretty.“, he muttered against your sex and you blushed hard, but didn’t hold back either.

Instead, you began to grind your cunt into his mouth, desperate to feel more, get there, because Jesus, without much effort he already had you nearly over the edge.

Your eyes met his, face flushed and eyes sparkling at you with lust, then he buried himself even deeper into your heat, like a man starved, ready to devour you whole.

A sound of both surprise and pleasure left your lips and your head thumped back into the pillow, deep breaths coming out of your mouth as you whisper his name like a mantra.

„Come on, darlin'.“, Arthur whispered. „Let go for me.“

His tongue rolled over your clit, again and again, assaulting it sweetly and then he finally had you. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your body convulsed and bucked into him, the waves of pleasure crashing in harshly.

„That’s it.“, you heard him mumble through the ecstasy, his eyes watching as he pushed you over the edge.

When your breathing had calmed down a bit Arthur gently pushed your legs off his shoulders and leaned in to press his lips against yours. You tasted yourself on his tongue, tangy, a bit salty, and sweet.

„Need to work ya open a bit more.“, he then muttered against your mouth, his hand slipping between your thighs, cupping your cunt before you could even answer.

Instead, you mewled into him, breath hitching in your throat as his fingers slowly brushed through your wetness, once, twice, before he teased at your opening and gently pushed them inside. There was no resistance as his fingers sank into you and your jaw grew slack, a helpless sound leaving your lips.

„Taking me so well.“, Arthur praised, his lips tracing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw now.

Gently he began to pump his fingers into you, gliding in and out so easily that it almost made you embarrassed. No man had ever made you feel like this. Your pussy squelched around him and he groaned deeply at the sound of it, adding a third finger that made you gasp because the stretch ached. Not painfully, but so deliciously that your legs began to shake.

„A-Arthur.“, you choked out and he shushed you softly, connecting his lips with yours again and you whimpered desperately as his movements became faster.

„Almost there, darlin'.“, he whispered against you.

You felt the addicting burn inside your belly again and you knew it won’t be long until he would make you reach another high, but just then, just when you were nearly there his fingers slowed down and he pulled them from your slick cunt. A protesting cry left your lips.

„Shh. Just needed to make sure you’re ready for me.“, he quieted you, before giving you a gentle kiss.

You reciprocated it eagerly and Arthur began to undo the last few buttons of his union suit before pushing it down. Next, he broke the kiss and sat up so he could get rid of it completely. You’re eyes fell onto his erect member and now you finally understood why he had been so intent on working you open first. He was really big. He smirked at you as he settled between your thighs again.

„You think you’re ready for me?“, he asked and you gulped hard, but nodded nevertheless.

You needed him badly.

„Alright.“, Arthur whispered, leaning in to press his lips against yours.

Your hands sneaked around his back as he began to grind against you, his cock brushing through your folds to collect some wetness a few times. It rubbed against your sensitive bundle of nerves during this and you whimpered against his mouth, your fingernails digging into his skin and he hissed softly.

„Getting impatient there, darlin'?“, he asked with a chuckle and you nodded. „Well…then…“

He changed the angle slightly and his tip caught on your entrance. Unintentionally you held your breath and looked down between your bodies to watch as he then slowly sank into you. He wasn’t even halfway in when a loud mewl escaped your lips.

„You alright?“, Arthur stopped immediately, his hand finding its way to your cheek.

„Y-Yeah, j-just…ah…“, you were fumbling with your words, mind a blurry mess. „You f-feel so good.“

Through hooded eyes, you met his and he smiled softly, leaning down to catch your lips in a sweet kiss.

„Oh trust me, darlin', you feel just as fantastic.“, he then whispered, lips trailing to your jawline and neck. „So damn perfect.“

And with that, he pushed deeper, your mouth falling open as more and more inches sank into you until he filled you up completely. Soft pants from both of you broke the silence and he nuzzled into the nape of your neck, his soft hair tickling your face slightly as he let you accustom to his size.

„Just tell me when I can move.“, he muttered against your skin which was now covered with a thin layer of sweat.

You nodded slowly and let yourself just feel him for a few seconds, how good he felt even though it was nearly too much.

„Ar-Arthur…please.“, you whimpered then, your hips pressing against his impatiently.

He groaned softly, his mouth trailing back to yours and finally he began to move. Gently he retreated before he ground his length into you again, making you gasp in pleasure, eyes rolling back while your fingers gripped onto his back for dear life.

„That’s it, darlin'.“, he murmured and repeated it one more time, his cock pulling out of your weeping cunt slowly before he pushed back in.

The stretch was so delicious, that you couldn’t help but moan his name and let your legs fall more open, inviting him in like an old friend.

„Just like that.“, Arthur praised you immediately, his lips barely touching yours during this, before he connected them and let his tongue slip inside.

With a soft whine you met him, the kiss turning more eager as his gentle rhythm sped up just a notch. He ground his hips against you with purpose, cock rubbing against that special spot inside of you just right and you had to turn your head to the side, gasping for air. It was like there wasn’t enough of it all of a sudden. All you could consume was him and Christ did it make you dizzy, dizzy from all the pleasure you were feeling.

You hadn’t expected anything to happen today but you sure as hell would’ve never expected this.

Again you whined his name and he gently grabbed your face to turn it back to him, dark blue eyes meeting yours.

„Look at you, so beautiful for me, darlin‘.“, he whispered and one of his hands slipped between your bodies, sneaking its way to your clit to rub it gently.

„O-Oh!“, you moaned.

You were rushing towards the edge again with an immense speed and you began to meet his thrusts that were becoming faster and harder by the minute. Arthur smirked as he watched you.

„Gonna make you feel real good.“, he muttered and a sudden deep and especially hard push made you yelp, but Christ did it feel good.

„A-Again.“, you managed to choke out and he obeyed, hips slamming into you hard and with purpose.

The sweet ache between your thighs was almost unbearable now and you knew it wouldn’t be much longer now. You clenched around him, barely managing to keep yourself from falling over the edge and he groaned loudly.

„Come on, darlin'.“, he panted and his fingers circled around your clit faster, almost abusing it, but that was just what you needed.

He was fucking you so good in that moment, you couldn’t help it anymore and finally you came, crying out his name as your body shook, tensing up from the violent orgasm you were experiencing.

„Such a good girl.“, he praised you and his lips found yours, muffling the sweet sounds that came out of your mouth, his hips not stopping with their movements.

It was getting too much and you whined, squirming under him, but the way his lips moved against yours, tongue licking into you made you forget the pain fast, turning it into pleasure once more.

„Arthur…“, you muttered and his hand caressed your cheek reassuringly.

„You alright there?“, he asked after leaning back just a bit to look at you.

His cock was still trusting into you, now a bit slower and more gentle. You managed to hum in response and he smiled softly.

„Good.“, his lips connected with yours again in a quick peck. „Think you can do it a second time?“

Your mind was all blurry and foggy so it took you a moment to get the meaning of his words, but then you nodded slowly. Right now you would give him everything.

„That’s my girl.“, he whispered and with that he was back at it, his thrust getting faster again, pulling a high-pitched moan from you.

Arthur ground into you hard and deep, but it felt like it still wasn’t all he was capable of and the more the delicious ache between your thighs intensified the more you were craving all of him.

„Don’t hold back.“, you whined into the nape of his neck. „Please.“

In a moment of surprise, he stopped and you cried in protest.

„You sure, darlin'?“, he sat up now, his brows furrowed a bit.

„Please.“, you nodded and stretched your hands out for him, desperate to be closer to him, even closer than just being connected.

He groaned softly at how you were looking at him and it was all it took to persuade him. His lips collided with yours as he finally continued to thrust and you gasped. His pace was unforgiving, skin slapping against skin hard, and when he pushed even deeper you moaned loudly, fingernails digging into his skin, tearing him open as he nearly split you into two.

„Aah-Arthur!“, you cried into his mouth and he grunted, tongue forcing its way between your lips and you knew he was a goner.

His rhythm was getting sloppy, hips just slamming into you like he was desperately looking for something. The bed was creaking under your bodies in protest but right now neither of you cared for that, right now it was just a race to get to that sweet release and before you knew it you came hard around his length. Your pussy clenched around him tightly, his thrusts stuttering and he was barely able to pull out of you when his hot spend already burst onto your stomach.

Heaving he sat in front of you, chest rising and falling rapidly while his eyes were faced to the ceiling like he was praying to god, then he breathed out deeply and he nearly collapsed on top of you.

„Goddamn, woman.“, he panted into the crook of your neck. „You nearly killed me there.“

His words let a laugh bubble from your throat and you gently caressed through his hair with your fingers.

„Sorry.“, you giggled and pressed a kiss to his temple.

He lifted himself with his arms, eyes meeting yours and a lopsided smirk was displayed on his lips before he pressed them against yours.

„Don’t you ever apologize for that again, darlin'.“, he muttered.

His hand cradled your cheek sweetly and he sat up again to finally clean you both up a bit with the blanket, then he laid down next to you and pulled you against him. Silence engulfed the both of you and you hummed softly, your legs shaking a bit from how intense everything had been.

„Don’t tell me you’re still cold.“, Arthur looked at you with a lifted eyebrow and you chuckled while shaking your head.

„No, not anymore.“, you said. „You warmed me up quite a bit.“

He smirked softly.

„Good.“

It went quiet again, the silence only punctuated by your soft breaths and the howling of the storm outside. It must’ve been minutes until you decided to speak again.

„To be honest…I didn’t really expect this when we agreed to share the bed.“, you muttered and your gazes met.

„Me neither.“, Arthur nodded slightly and chewed on his lip. „You…don’t regret it…do you?“

His eyes looked you up and down with a hint of worry behind them.

„Absolutely not.“, you reassured him softly. „It was just surprising…that’s all.“

„Yeah.“, he nodded. „I get what you mean. We didn’t speak much until we went huntin' and now…“

He didn’t have to end the sentence. Both of you knew what he was implying.

„Right.“, you murmured. „Well, didn’t know what to think of you but…turns out you’re quite nice.“

Your words made him laugh and he pressed a kiss to your temple.

„Quite nice, huh? Now that’s somethin'.“, he whispered against your skin. „You know…when we finally leave that damn town Colter…maybe we could go out for a ride…spend the day somewhere nice. What do you say?“

Arthur leaned back so he could look at you. A smile made its way to your lips.

„Sounds good to me.“, you agreed and he breathed out softly, like he had been holding it in.

„Then we have a deal.“, he nodded and pulled the blanket over your bodies. „Now…let’s try to get some sleep until the mornin'. We still have a bit of a journey ahead of us tomorrow.“

„Yeah.“, you hummed softly and leaned your head against his shoulder. „Good night, Arthur.“

You closed your eyes, his body engulfing you comfortably. It would surely warm you through the night.

„Good night, darlin'.“

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan imagine

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aphroditeslover11 · 3 months

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Headcanons: Lenny Miller In Paris

Inspired by this beautiful mood board that I found yesterday, not my work so please go and credit the original artist.

I feel like there would certainly be a visit to the Opera Garnier, he strikes me as the kind of guy who would have no understanding of the music but would go for the experience and the scenery (of course I would never be like this myself!!). He’d like to take the opportunity to get all dressed up and show you off to the world.

He’d definitely take you shopping on the Champs Élysées and absolutely spoil you. He’d probably make a mental note of the things he saw you looking at and then surprise you with a pile of bags in your hotel room. He’d refuse to buy himself anything more than a new tie though.

Long walks through Parisian parks and little picnics for lunch, his favourite would be the Jardin du Luxembourg. He’d try and talk you into a game of boules on one of the many pitches scattered about in the city, presuming he’d just be able to do it, the cocky bastard that he is. He’d be shit though and it would end in frustration when you beat him - Lenny Miller is a very sore loser.

Lenny would certainly take you around all of the galleries, he’d have a background information on some of the art, trying to sneak peeks at the guide books so that he looked more knowledgeable than he actually was. You’d pretend to ignore it to spare his ego.

Getting a portrait drawn of the pair of you in Montmartre as a souvenir of the trip.

Going to Versailles and Lenny saying that you were his Marie Antoinette, taking millions of pictures of you in the gardens and the Hall Of Mirrors and jokingly telling you how to pose. He’s a better photographer than you expected.

“These photos actually aren’t that bad, I’m pleasantly surprised, they may even make it to Instagram.” He chuckles.

“I have had quite a bit of practice over the years.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Photographing bodies at crime scenes mainly”

*cue playful slap on the arm* “You make me feel so special!”

#cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #lenny miller x reader #lenny miller #anna

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queer-irritator · 7 months

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Date Night (Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader)

Prompt: Arthur and fem! reader head to Cotorra Springs for some time alone amidst the chaos of Shady Belle.

Fem reader anatomy, but no gendered language used.

Content warnings: Adult language, smut, assault, violence

Takes place after Impure Thoughts, but not necessary to read first

Not proofread

You were still getting used to living at Shady Belle, it was alright, but being right on the swamp meant tons of bugs. As the newest gang member, you didn’t end up getting a room inside. But that didn’t keep you from crawling into Arthur’s bed most nights. Since you got up the nerve to claim Arthur as your man a few weeks ago shit has hit the fan. Arthur got shot, Jack got taken (and brought home), and Dutch is slowly becoming more unhinged. Perhaps worst of all, Micah is hanging around camp more than normal. Any time you show Arthur any affection and Micah happens to be around, he always has to make some sort of comment. You can tell how much it pisses Arthur off, too. So, with everything going on you don’t have a ton of time together, and the time you do spend together is when you’re both asleep. Even when Arthur was recovering from getting shot, someone else was always hovering around. So, you’ve made a mental plan to escape for at least one night with Arthur, and Cotorra Springs sounds the most relaxing (and romantic). You can’t wait to get him alone. You can’t wait to kiss him without having someone call Arthur’s name, or being interrupted when things just start to get hot and heavy. Although your relationship isn’t necessarily a secret, you also haven’t announced anything, or been overly affectionate in front of others.

You just finished helping out Pearson cut some vegetables for the stew, which was your last chore. Buzzing with excitement, you scan the grounds in an attempt to locate Arthur. It’s fairly early, so you’re hoping no one has pulled him aside for any nonsense.

The sound of wood splitting catches your attention. You head over behind some wagons to spot your favorite cowboy hard at work. You watch him closely as he sets up another log to cut. He’s wearing a red button up with the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone, some black work pants, and suspenders. He swings the axe down with a slight grunt and the wood peels apart with ease.

“Hey handsome.” You greet him.

Arthur turns his head towards you and a smile makes its way onto his face.

“Look who it is.” Arthur lays the axe down and crosses his arms over his chest and turns to face you fully. “You comin’ over here to distract me?” He jokes with you.

“Maybe.” You playfully joke back. “Seems like we need a distraction after the last few weeks.”

“You can say that again.” Arthur sighed and rubbed the side of his face.

A smile appeared on your face, “So, this a good time to ask you on a date?”

“Me? A date?” Arthur raised an eyebrow at you like you were crazy. “Where to?”

“It’s a surprise.” You told him.

“Mmmh, I don’t like surprises.” He playfully protested.

“This is a good surprise.” You promised him. “Come on, grumpy.”

Arthur followed you to where the horses were hitched up. You checked over your horse to make sure you had enough supplies and your horse’s gear was ready.

“Hey, Lenny.” You called to your closest friend in camp as you swung your leg over your horse, “If anyone asks, Arthur is gonna be busy the next day or so.”

“Alright.” Lenny looked up at you, knowingly. “You two have fun.”

He was the only person who really knew about your relationship. He was subjected to hearing your drunk ramblings about how beautiful Arthur is for days on end.

Arthur mounted his horse, not too thrilled to learn that Lenny knows about his personal relationship.

“We will!” You called back to Lenny as you led the way out of camp.

----

The ride with Arthur was nice and peaceful. Except for when he kept badgering you to tell him where you were going.

“We ain’t going up in the snow, are we?” Arthur questioned you, worriedly.

You let out a chuckle, “No, I wouldn’t do that to you… At least without warning.” You assured him.

You finally saw the Cotorra Springs and halted your horse on the side of the trail.

“Ta-da!!” You spread out your arms to present the springs to Arthur.

“Ohhh, the springs?” Arthur looked at you. He couldn’t help a small smile seeing how proud and happy you were to have surprised him. “It’s beautiful, darlin’.”

You were smiling so big your cheeks hurt. Speaking of cheeks, you were sure they had turned a light shade of pink hearing Arthur call you a nickname. You slid off your horse and found a nice spot next to one of the larger springs to start setting up camp. Arthur followed you and quickly took over making a fire. You laid out a bedroll and took in the view.

Arthur got a fire going and turned his attention to you, “So, what are we doin’ up here?”

“Going in the hot springs, duh.” You playfully rolled your eyes at him.

“In our clothes?” He questioned

“Well, no. That wouldn’t be comfortable.”

“… Naked??” He lowered his voice slightly, and began to look at you like you were insane.

You simply nodded your head at him.

“In public? Are you crazy?” Arthur glanced around to see someone passing by on horseback.

“When it gets dark no one will be around, it’ll be fine.” You assured him, “I didn’t know you were so shy, Mr. Morgan!” You teased him.

Arthur scoffed slightly, “Excuse me if I don’t wanna show my ass to the world.”

“It’s not to the world.” You said as you moved closer to him and rubbed his upper arm, “Just to me.” You smiled at him.

Arthur was still looking at you with uncertainty.

“It will be dark, and we’ll be in the water. I promise it’ll be fine, Arthur.” You leaned up and kissed him softly on the lips.

He kissed you back after a moment of hesitation. You wrapped your arms around the brute of a man and pulled away from the kiss.

“I figured we’d eat first though.” You proposed. It’d been quite a long ride up to the springs and the sun was beginning to set. You could have taken a train, but a horse ride seemed more intimate.

Arthur nodded slightly and gave you a kiss on the head, “Alright.”

You called your horse over and got out some venison you brought with you. You sat down next to the fire and unwrapped the meat. You had seasoned it with some thyme and mint earlier in the day. You took out two pieces and placed it on a grill over the fire.

Arthur sat down next to you and placed his hand on the ground behind you. “This is nice. Thank you.”

You turned your head towards Arthur and smiled at him, “Of course. We haven’t gotten any real alone time in a while. And you work so hard, you deserve some rest.”

“You’re too good to me.” Arthur placed his other hand on the side of your cheek and pulled you into a soft, loving kiss. You kissed him back and set one of your hands on his side, leaning into his touch.

You reluctantly pulled away from him after a few moments, “Gonna make me burn our dinner.” You chuckled and flipped the meat with a knife.

Arthur just hummed in response and kissed the crook of your neck. You bit your bottom lip, this man really knew how to turn you on.

“Arthur… we gotta eat.” Your words were of protest, but your body was giving into his touch.

“Rather eat ‘chu.” Arthur mumbled against your skin.

Your cheeks turned red, “Arthur Morgan!” You laughed and swatted at his arm. “Come on…” You sat up straighter and took the meat off the fire.

“Alright, alright.” He finally gave in to you and sat up.

----

By the time you finished eating the sun had fully set and there was a cool nip in the air.

“That was the best thing I’ve eaten in a while.” Arthur complimented your cooking.

“Why, thank you, sir.” You leaned your head against his shoulder. “You ready to get naked?”

Arthur chuckled slightly, “I guess so.” He hadn’t seen any more people riding by since the sun was up.

You smiled and kicked off your shoes and socks then jumped up to continue to undress. Arthur followed your lead, but not nearly as quickly or enthusiastically.

Soon you were bare-butt naked and stepped into a shallow ledge in the hot spring.

“Oh, Arthur, it's so nice!” You looked back at him and he was just starting to unbutton his shirt. You fully submerged yourself in the hot water and watched Arthur.

“Woo! Take it off, hot stuff!” You encouraged him.

“Shut up…” Arthur took off his last article of clothing and joined you in the hot spring.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, “It’s nice, right?”

Arthur nodded, “Yeah, it is.” He put an arm around you and began to relax.

You rested your head on his chest and looked up at the stars.

“I could stay here forever.” You felt so relaxed and at so much peace. Something you haven’t felt in a long time.

“Me too, sweetheart.” Arthur had been admiring your face instead of the stars.

You felt his eyes on you and turned your head to meet his gaze and smiled softly at him. Arthur lifted his hand out of the water and rubbed his thumb on your cheek.

“I think I love you.” He said, so quiet he couldn’t tell if he said it out loud or in his head. He couldn’t tell over the loud thumping of his heart.

Your eyes started to well up from the utter happiness you felt from hearing those words, “I love you too.” You whispered back to him before pulling him into a kiss.

Arthur kissed you back, his hands gripping onto you like he was afraid you’d leave him if he ever let go.

You pressed your body flush against Arthur’s and lowered his head to deepen your kiss. Arthur slid his tongue into your mouth and moved one of his hands to your waist and the other to knead the flesh of your ass. You moaned into his mouth and lightly pulled at the damp hair on the back of his head. Arthur felt his cock harden and he lifted up your legs and hooked them around his waist and began to walk out of the hot spring.

The breeze of the cold air met your skin and gave you goosebumps, but it was the last thing on your mind. You could feel Arthur’s dick pressing into you and it was driving you crazy. Somehow Arthur made it to the bed roll and laid you down, breaking the kiss. The only sound was the two of you desperately trying to fill your lungs with oxygen.

“Arthur, please I want you inside me.” You begged the man above you, looking into his eyes. “A-Are you sure? We don’t have to do that if you’re not ready.” Arthur was searching your eyes for any hint of hesitation, or disgust. He was just waiting for you to realize he was a monster and run away screaming.

“I’m very fucking sure, Arthur. I need you.” You assured him and leaned up to kiss him again.

He nodded and positioned himself at your entrance. He used the tip of his cock to spread open the wetness of your folds.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, darlin’.” He mumbled as he rubbed himself against your clit. “You ready?” He glanced up at you.

Your face went completely red hot and hooked your legs on Arthur’s waist, “Yes.”

He slowly pushed himself into your entrance and groaned slightly from the feeling of your walls around him. Once he filled you up, he started to slowly rock into you. You moans started to fill the air, he stretched you out the perfect amount. Arthur dipped his head down and kissed the crook of your neck and started to pick up his pace. You placed your hands on his back and moaned.

“You feel so good.” You praised him.

Arthur just groaned in response and shifted his angle until he felt your nails dig into his back and you moaned loudly.

“Fuck! Right there baby!” You could feel your orgasm building.

Arthur grunted and began to thrust into the same spot over and over again and he started to feel his own climax creeping up on him.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” he mumbled in your ear.

You couldn’t help the moans escaping your lips and just managed to get out an, “Uh-huh” before you were raking your nails down his back and moaning through your orgasm.

The way your walls clenched down around his cock had Arthur cumming into your pussy.

“Shit, baby.” Arthur said as he lazily rode out both of your orgasms, “Make me feel so goddamn good.” He praised you as he kissed your neck and chest all over. You were panting, trying to catch your breath and dropped your arms to your sides.

“Mhh, you did all the work though.” You retorted.

Arthur chuckled slightly as he slid out of you and laid down next to you and put an arm around you.

You could feel some of Arthur’s cum drip out of you as you moved to lay your head on his chest.

“You know, I do love you, Arthur.” You glanced up at him.

He looked down at you, “I’m the luckiest fool on the planet.” He kissed your head, “An’ I love you too…”

You pulled the top layer of the bed roll over the both of you and closed your eyes. Before you could open your mouth to tell Arthur goodnight, you heard snoring coming from the man beside you. You chuckled, draped an arm over Arthur’s stomach and drifted off to sleep.

----

The next morning you awoke to an empty bed roll. You rubbed your eyes and called for Arthur. When you didn’t get a response, you forced your body to sit up. There was a piece of paper lying where Arthur should be.

Went to try and catch some fish down by the river.

-Arthur

You smiled to yourself, Arthur loved to think he was terrible at everything. When the opposite was true, he surprised you with how many talents he has. You noticed your clothes were in a neat pile next to you, and decided to get dressed. You headed over to the fire pit and started to brew some coffee. Right on cue, you heard footsteps coming up behind you.

“How’d you manage?” you asked, not bothering to turn around.

An unfamiliar voice filled the air, “Manage what? Finding a pretty thing like you all the way out here?”

You spun around to see a man you didn’t recognize. You reached for your revolver but it wasn’t there. You never put your gun belt back on. Your heart started to race as you stood up and backed away from the man.

“If I were you I’d get out of here.” You warned the man. Arthur must be coming back soon. “I don’t think so, sweetie. Why don’t you come into town with me?” He took a step closer to you.

“Fuck no.” You told him as you your hands balled into fists. You’ve never had to punch someone before, but that’s going to have to change today.

“Come on, baby. Don’t be like that.” The man lunged forward to try and grab you, but you punched him as hard as you could in the side of his face. This caused the man to fall backwards and he landed on the campfire.

“Oh, shit…” You whispered to yourself as the man started to scream from the pain of being on fire. You took a few steps back and watched the man try and put himself out, but his entire body was engulfed at this point.

“The hell happened??” Arthur’s voice rang out.

You looked up to see Arthur carrying a fish in his hand. You ran to grab your gun from your belt and walked up next to him.

“I dunno, this guy just started harassing me and I punched him and he fell into the fire.” You quickly explained.

Arthur set down the fish, walked over to grab the bed roll and used it to put out the fire. Somehow the man was still alive. Arthur crouched over him and wrapped his hand around his throat.

“You think it’s okay to come up here and harass people? Hm?” He tightened his grip on the man.

“No! I- I was just trying to get a date!” The man sobbed, “Please, I’ll never do it again.”

“Well, as it turns out, that’s MY date. And you’re right. You won’t do it again because you ain’t gonna be alive for it to happen again.” Arthur threatened the man before punching him in the face repeatedly until he fell limp.

You tore your eyes away from Arthur and strapped your gun belt on and stowed the fish on Arthur’s horse.

“Come on, we should get outta here.” You advised Arthur.

Arthur got up, wiped blood off his knuckles and walked over to you, “You alright?”

You turned to him and nodded, “Yeah. Thanks to you.” You placed a hand gently on the side of his face and gave him a kiss. “Let’s head home.”

You and Arthur started your ride back to camp. You both talked and ate snacks you had left over in your saddle bag.

As you got closer to camp, the more you realized you didn’t want your time with Arthur to end. You slowed your horse down and looked over to Arthur.

“Hey, you wanna do something before we head back?” You asked him.

“Sure, what’chu have in mind?” He questioned you.

“I dunno, but I’m sure we can find some trouble to get into in the city.” You teased him.

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x fem reader

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theresawritesstuff · 3 months

Note

“Oh no, there is only one bed, what will we do now?”

I've been trying to get this one right for a long time. I feel like I wrote the start of at least five different versions before this one... Thanks for being patient 😘

Denver, 1965

“That…” Lenny managed finally. “That is quite the bed.”

The pair of them had been standing at the end of the king sized, pillow laden beast of a mattress for God only knows how long.

Just staring, bags in hand like a couple of idiots.

“Yes it is,” Midge agreed, equally dumbstruck.

“The uh…” She cleared her throat. “The bookings were part of the tour deal. I guess they thought you were Mister Maisel.”

He nodded absently. “Happens.”

“They probably overbooked. Thought they were doing us a favor with the upgrade,” she reasoned.

“Probably…”

They'd been on tour together for about a week with Lenny as her opener. She still couldn't quite believe it but she was now the bigger name out of the two of them.

She understood the how and why. It was just a little hard to reconcile. It didn't feel like it should be real.

Not like this at least…

Then again nothing had truly felt real since that night in San Francisco.

One minute she's chain smoking in the alley, fighting for her life against a panic attack, the next her manager is marching back into that hell hole of a club only to drag Lenny out by his ear to check him into rehab.

But even after he got out and Susie managed to clean up some of his legal messes the clubs still wouldn't touch him on his own merits.

Which is where she came in.

She'd hoped it could be a way for her to repay some of the favors he'd done for her when she’d hit a career low. To show him he still had her support. That she still cared about him, deeply.

She'd never once stopped caring about him. Never would.

She would always love him.

But they'd barely spoken. At least not anything of consequence.

He didn't seem to think they had much left to say…

“I’ll um… You should take it. I can sleep on the couch,” he offered, breaking himself away from the bed to set his suitcase by the dresser.

Before he got any ideas…

They'd had their share of falling into bed with each other over the years but with them working together now he didn't feel like he was in any position to assume.

She'd always been very clear about her feelings on mixing business with pleasure.

And they hadn't exactly been together anytime recently. Things change. She might not want him anymore. He wouldn't blame her.

Certainly not after she and Susie had basically dragged him out of the gutter.

He'd never wanted her to see him like that. To see that he was so far gone. That all was very much not well.

Living on opposite coasts had made it easier to hide.

They'd written a few letters. Shared a couple of phone calls, but he'd never let on just how bad off he was. He could barely admit it to himself.

He didn't want her help.

She gave it to him anyway.

Thank god she was just as stubborn as he was.

“What couch?” Midge wondered.

He looked up, glancing around the room.

Mountain view.

Bathroom.

Absurdly inviting bed…

Coffee table.

Two chairs.

No couch.

“Oh…” he blinked. “Well there were a few promising options in the lobby.”

She looked at him skeptically. “You're kidding.”

“No, they really did look quite comfortable. Nice plush upholstery.”

Midge rolled her eyes, setting her bag down. “I know Susie had to bail on this stop to take care of business in New York, but if she hears you slept in the lobby you and I both will never hear the end of it.”

He let out a sigh, deflating. “You're probably right.”

“You know I'm right.”

He nodded tiredly, swiping a thoughtful hand over his mouth.

Her manager had put in a lot of effort trying to turn his image around.

Their manager, he corrected himself mentally.

He was still having a hard time coming to terms with that one.

He wasn't used to representation that didn't hound him for payment at every turn.

Lenny looked around the room pensively, snapping his fingers towards the sitting area.

“Chair. Chair looks good.”

He sat down, curling his long frame up onto the seat, testing the theory.

Midge sat down on the edge of the bed across from him, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “The chiropractor Susie hired to follow you around is gonna love that.”

“I've had worse,” he replied through a grimace he tried to pass off as a smirk.

A scoff of a laugh escaped her lips as she looked out the window at the storm brewing outside.

“This feels familiar…”

“How so?” he wondered, adjusting his position.

“The snow.” She gestured to the space between them. “You keeping a respectable distance.”

He shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “Seemed like the safe option.”

“Is it because I talk to my shoes? I don't do that in front of just anyone you know,” she quipped.

“Lucky me. Some guys would pay good money for that.”

The chair reclined unexpectedly with a cartoonish clank of metal and springs beneath the seat, becoming even less comfortable than before.

“Lenny…”

“Hm?” he replied, attempting nonchalance.

“You've been avoiding me,” she informed him softly. “Care to tell me why?”

“I would not call going on tour together avoiding you,” he batted back lightly.

She waited patiently for his answer.

He huffed out a sigh, staring up at the ceiling.

“I've been trying to work out why it is that I'm here,” he admitted.

“Here as in the tour or more in a grand existential sense?”

To his noncommittal wave of a hand she replied “I needed an opener, you needed a job.”

“You felt compelled to fix my mess,” he corrected.

Midge blinked, her brow furrowing. “That's not–”

“I'm not angry,” he assured her, sitting up slowly. “I was for a little while, but that was more with myself than anything else. For giving you no other choice but to either turn your back or step in and try to put Humpty Dumpty back together.”

She shook her head, perplexed. “You needed help. We help each other. That's how we've always been.”

He smirked ruefully at the assertion. “I haven't been any help to you in a long time.”

Midge blinked.

She didn't have a comeback for that one.

“It's late,” he reminded her gently, stealing a decorative pillow from the other chair for his head. “You should try to get some rest.”

Her mouth set firmly as she looked back out the window, finding herself uncharacteristically speechless

She wanted to argue. To remind him of everything they'd been through. To tell him exactly what seeing him at his lowest had done to her. What the thought of losing him had done…

But the words just wouldn't come.

Instead she got up from the bed, grabbing her night things from her suitcase to head for the bathroom to get changed.

Once she was alone she exhaled a shaky breath, gripping the sink tiredly.

She never asked Susie what it was she'd said to Lenny that night.

Now she was starting to wish she had…

After a moment, she straightened up to get ready for bed, removing her earrings quickly then reaching around to unclasp her necklace.

Only it wouldn't budge.

She turned to look over her shoulder in the mirror, her fingers fumbling as the metal caught in the lace overlay of her dress.

The more she tried, the more tangled it became.

She begrudgingly turned to look at the door, weighing her options.

Fuck it.

Pride hasn't done either of them any favors lately anyway.

“...Lenny?” she called out sheepishly.

“What?”

She swallowed.

“I need your help.”

He appeared in the doorway a moment later, his tie and jacket removed.

She gestured helplessly, giving it one more attempt on her own. “It's stuck.”

“Yes I can see that…” he chuckled.

She shot him a look.

“Alright, hang on,” he assured her, holding up his hands in a truce.

He came up behind her slowly, standing close so that he could see what he was doing.

Midge stayed quiet, attempting to hold her hair out of his way, the gravity of his presence all too familiar a temptation.

“Need your reading glasses?” she teased, fighting to ignore the butterflies she felt as his fingers brushed incidentally along her neck.

Lenny smirked. “I'll manage, thank you. Your various clasps haven't beaten me yet.”

Like she needed the reminder…

“There,” he said in triumph after a moment, reaching around her to set the necklace on the edge of the sink.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

They stood frozen, neither one wanting to be the first to pull away.

“You, uh,” Lenny hesitated, wetting his lips. “You want help with the zipper too?”

Midge nodded, glancing over her shoulder up at him. “If you don't mind…”

He nodded in the mirror in lieu of reply.

His hand settled tentatively against her dress, one warm and steadying as the other slowly skimmed it's way down, sending a thrilling shiver along her spine.

“This was never about fixing you, you know,” she murmured quietly before he pulled away. “I don't… You're not broken. Not to me.”

“I'm a little broken, hate to break it to you,” he chuckled self-deprecatingly.

She took the hand still resting against her hip in her own, holding it fast.

“No more than I am.”

His eyes grew soft as he looked down at their entwined fingers.

“Can I ask you something?”

She nodded, turning to face him.

“Why did Susie really take me on?”

To her furrowed brow, he reasoned, “Don't get me wrong. The comedy comeback story is good, but if that had been the real reason she would have reached out way before San Francisco.”

Midge looked down at the floor between them, running her thumb softly along his.

“Because I needed her to,” she whispered.

“Why–”

“I couldn't live with the idea of a world without you in it,” she cut off, her voice hoarse with the threat of tears. “You don't love someone for half a decade and then just shrug and throw in the towel while they slowly kill themselves in front of you. And don't try to say that wasn't what was happening because you and I both know that–”

He reached out then, pulling her close as his lips collided with hers in a tender, searing kiss.

Her hands fisted in his shirt as he caressed her jaw, clinging to him, desperate to feel that it was real.

That he was still there, whole and steady, heart still beating beneath her fingertips, and not just a cherished memory.

He pulled away slowly, resting his forehead to hers.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the moisture from the corner of her eye. “Thank you for never giving up on me. You had every right to.”

“And a few very good reasons not to,” she reminded him.

He smiled softly, pulling back just enough to look at her. “So five years, hm?”

She bit back a laugh. “Give or take.”

He smirked. “I think I've got you beat.”

“Oh yeah?” she wondered. “By how much?”

He shrugged. “A bit.”

“Hm.” She nodded, biting her lip thoughtfully. “What do you propose we do about it?”

“Well, you did basically save my life by intervening in it. I suppose we can call it even,” he chuckled, arching a playful brow. “Why, did you have some other ideas?”

She took his hand in hers, pulling him gently towards the bedroom. “We can figure it out in the morning. Until then…Think you can still manage my show corset?”

He grinned, letting her lead. “One way to find out.”

She smiled as her dress slipped to the floor, taking his breath away before coming to reclaim his lips.

He wrapped her in his arms, savoring every inch of her as they stumbled to bed where she reminded him what it feels like to be truly alive.

And just how grateful they both were for it.

#Midgelenny #midge x lenny #Tmmm fic #Fix it ficlet #This was one of those prompt ideas that could have easily turned into a whole multi chapter story #Alas I don't possess the time

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fishsticksloser · 1 year

Note

Hello, Can i request rottmnt platonic hc of mom reader (she's co-parenting with splinter and they're relationship is platonic) and enjoys spending time with her teenager turtle kids?

Like she likes to talk about science stuff with Donnie, she praises leo and boost his confident, she sewing for raph teddy bears and cook with mikey.

But i guess her only down part is whenever she gets kidnap by anybody she immediately pull out her album and show her kids's pictures to other villains, mostly big mama, that's why the kids try to save her faster before their secrets are exposed 😂😂

Mom!Reader

RotTMNT + fem!reader

Warnings: platonic fluff, movie stuff mentioned, vague mentions of nightmares and injuries

A/N: Could you imagine if they had a mom? Donnie and Mikey are 100% a mama's boys and you can't tell me different. Each parent gets a twin (me and my twin are much the same)

Previous | Next

Donnie

Nicknames: DeeDee, Donato (the real name of the artist), Galileo, Aristotle, Archimedes, and much more.

You once called him Grimace when he was upset and he never forgave you

You are the only one allowed to hang out around Donnie's lab

You are the only one who listened to his info dumps

If the others actually listened, they might find it interesting

You might not understand all of what he's talking about, but seeing your son so passionate makes you so happy

You are the one he goes to when he has a nightmare

Donnie enjoys you singing him to sleep, its peaceful

It reminds him of when things weren't off the rails

He installed multiple trackers on you because last time you were kidnapped you showed Hypno pictures of the Turtle Tots

It made Hypno a little nicer, but there were some embarrassing memories

He once threatened to destroy your camera because of you showing the album to anyone near

Leo

Nicknames: Len, Lenny, Blue Belle, Cookie Monster, Ace, etc.

You are his biggest supporter

He goes to you when he needs help, when he's not feeling his best

When he was younger, he often bunked with you and Donnie

He just didn't like being away from his twin

He didn't come to you often when he was little

In fact, he doesn't go to you very often as a teen

Opting for Splinter

But you can't be everyone's favorite, you knew that Leo needs Splinter like Donnie needs you.

Leo isn't embarrassed by the pictures in the album, in fact he looks at it quite often

Mikey

Nicknames: Lino, Angi, Michi, Goldie, Firecracker, Giorgione, Caravaggio, etc.

Cooking with Mikey was always a blast

He was energetic, but serious

Music would be playing while you 2 worked

You could also be found painting with Mikey

Whether it was on the walls of the skate rink or if it was on canvases in his room

Mikey always comes to you for advice

Splinter and his brothers have a tendency to underestimate and protect him, but he knows you won't

You were the person he ran to about his hands after he saved Leo

He cried, but you showed him how strong he was

How even with shaky hands, art can still be made

Why would he be embarrassed by the album? He helped make it

Raph

Nicknames: Rafa, Alfie, Ray, R.J., Bubs, Cuddles, etc.

You and Raph grew apart as he got older, but you still make him sweaters and outfits for his bears

He loves you, he just feels like being 17, he needs to stop relying on you and Splints

When he was younger, he would watch you make him teddy bears

You'd let him name them, write their names down on a heart shaped piece of fabric and place it inside (like Build-A-Bear)

He still had those bears

Although he didn't sleep with them in fear of destroying them,

They sit nicely on the shelf across from his bed

So they watch over him

Absolutely goes nuts when you get kidnapped, knowing you're probably showing whoever it is baby photos of him

He was a cute kid, but not everyone needs to see that!

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ohforficsakelibrary · 5 months

Text

You Brought Me Poison Flowers

Chapter 5: Onion - Never throw onion skins and peelings onto the ground; if you do, you throw away your prosperity.

prev / series masterlist / masterlist

Series Summary: Joel and Ellie settle into life in Jackson, one more easily than the other, until Joel is reminded of what normal feels like. The kind of normal that he perhaps never had. A series of one-shot glimpses into a relationship (no true plot here, people.) Soft!Joel. Two touch-starved babes. Slow-ish burn.

Chapter subtitles taken from Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs by Scott Cunningham. Although herbal preparations are consistent with historic uses, nothing herein is to be construed as medical advice.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Herbalist!OFC (age-appropriate age gap)

Word Count: ~4.2K

Rating: Explicit 18+ / unprotected piv, further tags intentionally withheld. Minors DNI.

A/N: Joel returns a coat because skin is much warmer.

Joel is surprised that the shop is open when he makes his way back there after a late dinner.

A moth to the golden light that spills from her windows into the street.

Lennie is leaned over the counter speaking quietly to a young woman. She doesn’t even bother to angle her eyes over at him when he thuds in on heavy boots, coat draped over his arm.

“Joel, can I get you to step out for a second.”

It’s quick and firm and not a question.

And so he does until the woman breezes past him, throwing “she says you can head back in,” over her shoulder.

Lennie is herself with him again when he returns.

“Sorry about that, Joel. Flip that sign for me?” She cocks her head towards the “Open” sign as she moves to heave heavy blue curtains over the front shop windows.

Trapping the gold inside.

Joel complies, eyes lingering a fraction too long at where her yellow linen dress hikes up her thighs as she reaches for each.

She’s not wearing shoes.

“I won’t stay long,” he clears his throat and rushes to apologize. “Wanted to bring this back.”

Lennie takes the coat from his hands, digging fingers into the leather.

“Thank you,” she smiles in earnest, clutching it to her chest a moment as if to clutch a memory.

Whether it’s of him or her husband he can’t be sure.

“Yeah. ‘Course,” he murmurs softly as she replaces the coat on the mudroom rack.

“Dress ‘s nice,” he gestures loosely in her direction when she returns, thumbing at the corner of his mouth before shoving his hands in his pockets.

She throws him an incredulous look.

“You handing out compliments now, Miller?” Lennie teases before softening. “Thanks. Julie’s trying out some food scrap dye. I believe this is onion skin,” she gestures down the length of her with a flourish.

“Onion skin is your color.”

Lennie huffs a laugh and Joel searches for something else to say.

“She uh, she gonna be okay?” Joel nods at the door.

“Hmm?” She looks up from wiping the bar top, “oh, yeah, yeah she’ll be fine. Sorry to throw you out, some things are just for the girls.” She tosses him a wink.

“Well,” he rakes his fingers through silvered curls with the realization that he’s just been looming in the middle of the room as she flits around him, closing up for the night.

“I just came to return the coat, I’ll get out of your hair. You’ve seen enough ‘a me for the day.”

“You want some gin?”

“Yeah, would love some.”

Flames know more than moths give them credit for.

Getting him to stay is simple because he doesn’t want to leave.

She shuts off the set of lights directly above the bar and disappears to the right of the shop before returning with a bottle and two glasses of ice. Joel fills her glass and then his own as he sinks down onto the bench at her oak table.

“Thank you for your help last night,” she taps her glass to his before taking a sip.

“Didn’t really do much.”

“You kept me from freezing to death, so. I’d say that counts.”

He wants to dig in here but thinks better of it, pursing his lips to keep the words in.

“Thanks for teaching me. And Ellie. She couldn’t stop talking about it over dinner, she loved being able to help. Thought it was the coolest fuckin’ thing ever.” Tight lips split into a grin.

“Oh she did a great job today. A quick study, for sure.”

“You gotta check on her tonight?” Meaning the horse.

“Nah, dosed her about two ago and she should be good till morning. Looks like she’s on the other side of it, but Tommy said he’ll do one more check before he heads in and let me know.”

“Mmh,” Joel grunts in acknowledgement.

For a moment he allows himself to take her in. Her hair is half pulled up, washed and just this side of dry, streaks of silver at her temples curling over her shoulders. Free from hay. The scent of cedar and lavender heightened.

The yellow of her dress draws out the honey in her brown eyes.

“You were asking me something yesterday. When I was here to get coffee, before Ellie came in.”

She hums and smiles through a sip. And she’s nervous for a moment with the way massive chocolate eyes have gone soft. His arms are loosely crossed, elbow resting on the table. Biceps straining against brown and green flannel.

Joel’s tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip.

And Lennie clears her throat.

“I wanted to ask if you’d like…”

And like a demon summoned from a place Joel desperately wishes to send him back to––Tommy knocks on the shop door.

Unfortunately, Lennie gets up to let him in.

When Tommy tosses Joel a curious smile, Joel shoots him the same shut the fuck up stare he’s been throwing at Tommy for the past 40-something years.

When Joel broke that window in the garage with a baseball.

When he snapped the door handle off his truck because he was pissed about god knows what.

When Tommy caught sixteen-year-old Joel’s girlfriend sneaking out the back door at 3am.

It only makes Tommy grin harder.

“Yeah, she’s doing good.” He answers a question that Joel hadn’t even heard her ask. “You brought her through it, Len.”

“Care to join?” She nods at the gin on the table.

If Lennie notices Joel staring daggers over his shoulder at Tommy, her face doesn’t betray it.

And if there’s anything else that Tommy has learned in the last 40-something years, it’s not to interfere when his big brother is teetering on the precipice of being down bad for a girl.

“Nah, I can’t stay. But I wanted to bring you this,” he hands her a small paper bag and it's her turn to grin.

“I’ll add it to the collection.”

“It’s well-earned,” Tommy rakes a hand through thick black hair. “Alright, well––”

His cheeky tone makes Joel bristle.

“Y’all enjoy your night.”

“Night, Tommy,” Joel growls and Tommy smirks as he shuts the door behind him.

“What's that?” He nods at the bag when she returns to her spot opposite him at the table.

Lennie fishes out a snake’s rattle and offers it to him.

“Souvenir.”

Joel takes the hard scales between his fingers, holding it up to the light as she continues.

“I have almost every one that I've managed to heal.” She points over his shoulder to a hook above the doorframe where over twenty rattles are bound together in a bunch.

“Almost?”

“Sometimes they get away,” she takes the rattle he hands back, re-wraps it in paper, and gets up to place it on the bar.

Without thought, Joel reaches out as she passes him, gently catching her wrist on the tips of his fingers.

Lennie looks down, eyes bright and wide and betraying nothing.

It’s maddening, the way she does that. Says nothing and shows nothing in the moments where Joel feels most exposed.

But she hasn’t moved to pull away.

And so he pulls her in.

Joel closes his fingers around her wrist and guides her down onto the bench, facing opposite him. The hand on her arm stays while the other lays the paper bag on the table.

A chill races up her spine.

He slides his fingers up her forearm before weaving under her curls to cup the base of her skull. Dark eyes like saucers lock. Unbreaking.

“What were you saying, Len?”

Her eyes dart down to his lips and linger before meeting his gaze again.

It’s been fifteen? Sixteen? Years since he’s had a ‘first’ anything with anyone but she doesn’t know that because he’s never said anything and he remembers enough to know he doesn’t need pretty words right now.

And he forgets his own question.

“Tell me to let go…”

“No.”

He huffs through his nose, breath from his lungs ghosting across her skin, because she’s defiant in the way she spits it, eyes still bright.

Amused.

“C’mere then,” and he encourages her forward with pressure through his fingers until she can feel gin-warm breath ghost over her lips.

It’s just a brush at first. A brush that turns into a press, a parting, a latch.

She bends until her back hits the oak for better access to his mouth and he twists into her, hand still cradling her head. Holding her firm.

Holding her here against him.

Joel pulls back a fraction and she follows, her eyes flitting up to his.

For any sign that this was his mistake.

That he’s changed his mind.

That his skin isn’t burning the way hers is.

But he’s pulled back because he’s breathless. With eyes closed and he never sees her fear.

“Joel.”

“Tell me to stop and I will,” his forehead thumps hard against hers, and the angle is weird because he hadn’t thought it through, just moved like all the times before.

His chest is heaving and god how she longs to feel the press of it against her own.

“Tell me, Lennie,” he rasps with urgency.

“No.”

And she shifts because she needs him to know that she needs him, propping herself up to sit on the edge of the table as her mouth latches to his once again. He stands abruptly and the bench groans across wood planks where it gives against the backs of his knees, hungry lips and teeth seeking out her jaw. The softness of the skin just under her ear. Her throat. Her hands sweep the breadth of his shoulders to grip the collar of his shirt first, his hair next, as he fits between her legs, one arm wrapped around the small of her back, the other hand cradling her skull.

“The door,” she pants against his mouth, “Joel, the door.”

Because it’s still unlocked from Tommy’s unwanted intrusion and he kicks the bench back further. In two long strides it’s latched with the shade pulled down.

He locks eyes with her across the room, hair mussed, lips plush from his attention.

Fingers gripping the edge of the table she’s perched on.

Two strides more and he returns to her with an urgency that knocks the air from her lungs when they collide. Her hands cup his face before moving to tangle in his hair.

Something gives when he swipes his tongue over her bottom lip.

His begging for entrance granted.

He laps at her tongue and licks at her teeth, feeding her growls and getting moans in return. Lennie pushes his unbuttoned flannel off his shoulders and down to the floor, skating her palms over the heavy muscles of his arms before threading her fingers under the collar of his t-shirt to get at his skin.

And she grows impatient.

She hikes one leg up over his hip and he yanks her to the edge of the table, one hand splayed across her lower back, the other hitched up under her knee, holding her firm to grind his hips against hers. She lets out a gasp and buries her face against his neck when he presses the bulge in his jeans against her with a groan.

He rocks there against her heat, nose crushed against her temple, frantic breath rushing over her cheek.

There’s far too much fabric here but she can feel the searing heat of him and the thick, heavy line of his cock through his jeans.

“Joel,” she breathes, and he thinks for a second it’s too much too fast, but her fingers tug at his belt loops, and skim down over his ass, pulling him closer.

And god he wants to touch her, taste every inch, but right now he’s burning. Scrambling over her thighs to get to the core of her because his brain is sparking with the need to bury himself there until his blood stops simmering.

And Lennie.

Lennie’s on fire.

She shifts to help as thick fingers slide under her dress, yanking cotton panties down her thighs before one side of them snaps, Lennie uncaring as she paws at his belt then the button on his jeans and rips at the too-worn zipper, slipping it and his boxers down just far enough to allow her to take his cock in hand.

His forehead thumps against hers as he moans from deep in his chest.

“Jesus christ…” Lennie murmurs at the size of him, more to herself than anything. She just does it into his mouth. Joel huffs halfway between a laugh and a heady growl at the way her small hand slides over the thick girth of him.

Unable to still the barest rock of his hips into her fist.

Joel grabs at fabric where the hem of her dress is rucked up, tugging hard to urge her up off of it.

“Lean back, Len,” he murmurs against her mouth, pressing her backwards with his chest. His hand replaces hers around his length when she steadies herself with both palms on the table.

He leans against her with one hand on the table as the other leaves his cock to lick his fingers and reach between her thighs, tongue breaching her lips the second his fingers do.

A choked sob catches in her throat.

Joel hums low at the wetness he finds there. He spends a moment, teasing small circles against where she’s already so sensitive to his attention.

There’s no pretense here.

No romantic gestures, no pause to look into each other’s eyes.

Only his lips on her neck as he sweeps the blunt, weeping head of his cock against the slick lush of her and slides home with a strangled cry from them both.

Oh–

–god

She wraps a hand around the nape of his neck and he bends down with her. Back until her shoulder blades hit the table as she arches as best she can under the broad weight of him.

The gold chain of her necklace skitters over tendons as rings land with a dull clink against oak.

The pads of his fingers dig into the wood on either side of her head.

For a moment they just breathe each other in. Humid air delivered through open mouths.

The same molecules shared between two sets of aching lungs.

Lennie wraps her arms around the thick column of his neck that’s gone red with heat, beard prickling against her biceps, turning to a scrape when he angles his head to bite the flesh there.

Joel is a creature that needs touch, desperately.

He’s just walled himself off from it because touch gets you killed.

But now, buried deep. Weight pressed flush. Teeth sunk in.

With this body he’s wrapped in that writhes underneath him.

Her body.

Kind, warm, soft Lennie. Who brought laughter and coffee and scent back into his life again.

Lennie with her wild hair and mirth that collects in the creases at the corners of her eyes.

And Joel wants so desperately to take his time but that Joel can’t come to the phone right now because her hands have worked up under his t-shirt and her nails bite into his back, and her heel is digging into his ass encouraging him to “move, Joel. God, please move.”

He rolls his hips slowly, rocking against her without pulling out, forehead pressed to hers, hissing through clenched teeth because she’s tight around him and it has been so long.

He starts up slow, rolling strokes that drag his cock over every sensitive spot inside her, each thrust longer. Faster.

“Feel…s…so good, Len,” he pants against her mouth and she slips her tongue against his to savor the compliment’s taste. He curls his hips with every stroke because he hasn’t forgotten.

Hasn’t forgotten how to pull a woman apart from the inside out.

Joel preemptively apologizes with a nip at her chin before he rights himself, smoothing his palms down over her ribs, rucking her dress up around her waist, gaze locking a moment at where his thick cock fills her. He curls strong fingers under the wings of her hip bones with a snarl, pulling and tipping her hips to seat himself ever deeper, chasing her high.

One small hand reaches out for a wrist she can’t fully encircle, and the other slides up her chest to knead her own breast. Joel keens at the sight, fingers digging harder into the meat of her hips.

He grits his teeth, growling, pulling her against him and sending her back up the table with each thrust. He shifts her a fraction and the change in angle drags the crown of his cock over her g-spot.

Lennie gasps and presses a palm to her mouth, twisting in his hold.

“No,” Joel growls and picks up his pace. “Let me hear you, Len.” One hand leaves her hips to spread low over her stomach, thumb rubbing circles against her clit.

Her eyes are shut tight with pleasure but his are locked on her face. He watches until her back arches with a moan and her hand slips from her mouth, fingers catching on her bottom lip before searching frantically for his skin. He leans forward and she grabs a fistful of his t-shirt, pulling him back down to her.

He braces one palm against the table, teeth clacking sharp against hers as he finds her mouth again. She cradles his face between her hands until she can’t meet his kisses anymore, tipping her head to the side and offering her collarbone to his teeth.

“Joel, Joel please, yes, yes, yes—” she pants as he adjusts his hand to rub at that sensitive bundle of nerves with his middle and ring fingers.

“Joel… Joel, Jo—oh fuck,” she cries out as her muscles clamp down tight around him, back arched, fingers of one hand clutching at his curls, the other digging into the back of his shoulder as her cunt pulses around his length and it trips him up and tips him over and Joel comes hard on a string of yes-laced profanity as both hands pull on her hips, snarling like some untamed thing, pressing deep and holding there, painting her walls in hot, thick ropes of his spend.

He stays a moment, damp breath filling the shell of her ear before he shifts to lick at the dip of her throat. Lennie lets go where her hand is cramped from fingers gripped in his hair like a tether to the very earth and lets her legs slip lazily from his waist one at a time, the toes of one foot finding the edge of the bench.

She uses the leverage to give a mischievous roll of her hips and Joel moans and smiles, burying his nose in the valley of her breasts where the wrap of her dress has loosened.

She sweeps fingers down his neck under the collar of his t-shirt, humming with pleasure as Joel sucks kisses into her sternum, teeth gently sinking into the curve of her breast.

And then his head clears.

“Fuck.”

Lennie’s eyes snap open.

“Fuck, Lennie…” his voice is an octave higher.

And her heart jumps straight into her own anxieties before it preemptively drops out of her chest.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t…I shouldn’t have…fuck,” and despite his fervor he can’t catch the moan from his throat as he slips his softening cock from her warmth. “I…”

She shudders and prepares for the confession she knows must be coming. The unburdening of himself as he admits the mistake of taking her in his arms.

The we shouldn’t have done that.

The it happened too fast.

The I didn’t mean to.

I didn’t mean you.

For the tucking in of himself and his shirttails and the back of his hand wiped over his lips and the thud of boots and the slam of a door.

It all plays out behind her eyelids and the prickly promise of tears turns to a burn.

Lennie bites her lip because she refuses to let them fall.

If this is that he can’t have any more of her.

Her hands drop from his skin, eyes shut tight to hold in the last time she looked at him and thought he was beautiful.

Emptiness returns to the spaces between her ribs. The vacuum that threatens to collapse her back in on herself.

Maybe she was wrong about Joel Miller.

She reaches to pull down the hem of her dress but he’s in the way, his bare stomach pressed soft against hers and for a moment she wants to shove him off where seconds before she was desperate for the rush of his skin.

Joel rights himself, taking Lennie up with him, helping her to cover herself with her dress.

He notes how she tucks it between her thighs.

Closing herself off to him.

And he discretely reaches down to tuck himself away.

Lennie can’t meet his gaze, staring over his shoulder instead at her jars stacked on the far wall behind him before they start to swirl along with her stomach and she shuts her eyes tight again.

But she’s aware of the broad palms that skitter nervously up her spine. Of gentle fingers that stroke her sides. Of how he delicately brushes errant curls off of her forehead before he cups her face in his warm, rough hands.

Of how his body doesn’t leave hers

He hasn’t sprung away like a thing burned.

“Lennie, look at me.”

Joel presses a soft kiss to her parted lips and for a moment she hopes behind closed lids.

“Please, Len,” he whispers against her mouth and when she does his big brown eyes are full of fear.

And she reckons it must be here on her face too.

And for a moment neither one speaks because they each think that their fear is the other’s truth.

That in the blinding clarity of the afterglow he realized he didn’t want this and he’s two steps away from being out a door that he’ll never walk through again.

That he took pleasure without permission and defiled something sacred when he didn’t pull out and it means she’ll never let him have this—her—again.

And Joel speaks first because Joel’s not a man who doesn’t own up to his mistakes.

“Lennie, I couldn’t catch myself in time. What can I do, tell me, and I’ll do it. What do you need, say the word. Stay right there and let me get it for you…”

It comes out in a rush but it comes out firm. He’s heard rumors of seeds and teas and he hates that he’s never paid attention because he’s always pulled out. Always. Except of course this time with a woman he’d like to not fuck up with before it’s even started.

But Lennie does this, Lennie knows, and maybe some things are just for girls but he did it this time and he’s going to make it right.

And Lennie does the last thing in the world that Joel expects.

She laughs.

Soft and breathy on a sigh of relief at Joel’s confession and he feels her tension melt where his chest is still molded to hers.

“Joel,” her forehead knocks gently against his. “Joel, you’re fine,” she whispers, smiling as she reaches to cover his hands with her own, tipping her face to kiss into his palm.

She’s liquid with relief against him again now, arms winding around his neck, “we’re fine” tucked against the shell of his ear.

“How.”

“I promise,” it’s not an answer but she sucks her promise into his lips and the feel of her is again so divine that he doesn’t catch himself, pressing her tighter to him as though her promise could seep into his bones and make him believe.

“You’re sure.”

Perhaps some things will remain just for girls to know after all.

“I’m sure, Joel.”

He pulls back, still holding her waist in the span of his hands, voice earnest when he continues.

“You were scared, Len.”

She takes his scruffy jaw between her palms.

“Not of that, Joel. Not of that.”

He nuzzles at her nose, whispering against her mouth, “of what, Len?” Joel cradles her skull in and sucks lazily at her full bottom lip before peppering her neck with kisses. “Tell me. Let me fix it. For you.”

She leans back a hair to stare into his eyes.

“Will you come upstairs with me?”

And her voice is so small when she says it. Like she’s asking for something she’s sure he won’t give and if she says it softly enough it’ll feel like she hasn’t said it at all when he says no.

It’ll be so miniscule that they can both just forget about the whole thing.

And she braces for all of it.

Gotta get goin’.

‘S late.

Ellie will be wonderin’.

But Joel’s flushed cheeks go round with a smile and his eyes glitter with mirth looking for all the world like a kid on Christmas morning.

He breaks from her hold to sit down on the bench. Fingers make quick work of unlacing his boots, pausing after he toes one off to lay a nip at her thigh, toeing the other off in seconds.

Joel helps her off the table by the hips when he stands.

“Lead the way, Len.”

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