#like goddamn just let that dog die
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My roommate watched Frankenweenie... which I... disliked tbh...
ANYWAYS: Have a lil Donnie doing some sketchy science stuff <3
#frankenweenie#like goddamn just let that dog die#bro was miserable.#rottmnt#tmnt donatello#tmnt donnie#donnie 2018#rise donnie#sleepy art
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i'll tell you what converted me to being all-in on keeping cats indoors only:
living for a year and a half in a rural area with a sudden feral cat colony explosion on the property.
i moved in with my folks for a bit and at that time, one (1) stray cat mama had taken up residence on the property, but was too feral to let my mother anywhere near her. but especially after she brought three kittens around, mom fed her and the kittens in hopes they'd grow trusting enough she could catch for spay and neuter at the minimum. momcat stayed mean and hella wary, but the kittens would hang around a little nearer and play with my mom via long stick, but still wouldn't come close enough to touch or catch.
unfortunately, two of the three kittens were girls and started having kittens of their own before further progress was made, shortly after i moved in. and that was pretty much instant doom.
there were so many kittens. SO MANY. multiple litters. every time we turned around, more kittens.
we fed them. we hunted for and located the kittens every time anywhere on the property and would move them to a repurposed doghouse anytime a mama cat had them somewhere else, so that they could grow up human-socialized and we could spay/neuter them when they were old enough. (also it was a handy tactic to push the issue of the mamas getting more used to/trusting of us themselves. only really worked with one of them, though.)
and we watched them die.
we watched litter after litter of kittens never make it to the age they could be spayed or neutered. the moms stayed, for the longest time, too skittish to more than briefly touch, much less catch and crate for a vet visit.
it sounds like a silly joke to say i have kitten-related ptsd, but i absolutely do.
too many goddamn times i'd walk out of the garage and find the carport and gravel drive strewn with tiny bodies. others simply went missing, never to be found.
one in particular, i wish i hadn't found, and the visual literally haunts me still, almost a decade later.
i saw so many kittens die of snake bite, spider bite, wild dogs, birds of prey, hit by cars, respiratory illness, covered in fleas and eyes crusted with infection.
and we loved them all. scrimped for antibiotics if the vet could be convinced to give it to us despite our being unable to bring them in. bought flea collars and ointments. we cared for them and fed them and petted them and played with them, brushed their fur and cleaned up their little faces, put ice in their water in hot summer, rigged a heating lamp in their house in the winter.
and they died. horribly. that property is pocked with unmarked graves of kittens and cats.
all the best intentions, not enough resources, and it didn't matter anyways because the population went from three to almost twenty (at times, over thirty) in the blink of an eye.
they died and died and died. our hearts broke over and over again. the stress and anxiety wore us down like sandpaper. i think, by the end of it all, we managed to find less than 10 of them all homes, including batman the disabled kitten i found a home across the country through tumblr.
it was carnage and tragedy, frankly. and we were helpless.
it only ended because they started dying faster than they could be born, and because we finally caught the two remaining mom cats in traps and got them spayed.
the points about outdoor cats being invasive predators devastating to local wildlife populations is true and valid and important.
but i know cat people, and cat people who don't know better than to let cats outdoors. what matters to you is the cat itself, generally. the cat being happy and taken care of.
keeping cats outdoors, letting them outdoors, is not taking care of the cats. it's not protecting them. it's not giving them any happiness or invigoration that couldn't be provided to them as indoor-only pets with just a little research and effort.
they die. they get ill. they get hurt. they're at risk of predators, and cars, and disease, and carelessly cruel children and deliberately cruel adults. they're at risk of disappearing on you because someone else saw a cat outdoors and intervened to give it a better, safer life not in conflict with the local environment.
and if that offends and angers you that someone would just take a cat they saw roaming outdoors, even collared, and that it sounds like i'm endorsing that, i am, but not if you intervene and be that person yourself for your own cat.
if what matters to you is doing right by your cat because it's family and a living creature whose happiness and health and safety is important to you,
keep them indoors. not part time. always. exclusively.
edit: since apparently i need to clarify this, i'm saying cats should live inside, that they should not live outdoors, even part time. visiting the outdoors supervised on a leash or in an enclosed catio is not the same as even part-time living outside, and i am certainly not advocating against it.
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“Why are you wearing cologne?” Dustin asks after barely one second in the van.
“I’m not,” Eddie says, and promptly wants to die at how unconvincing that was. It’s not even technically a lie…
He makes it out of the school parking lot with Dustin saying jackshit, so for a little while, he thinks he’s gotten away with it.
More fool him.
Dustin abruptly lunges to the side, all up in his face like the world’s most dedicated sniffer dog.
“Ew, gross! Get off, man, I’m gonna crash,” Eddie says, even though they’ve been at a stop light for the past minute.
“Okay, correction,” Dustin says, drawing back. “Why are you wearing Steve’s cologne?”
Eddie stares into the middle distance, prays for The Upside Down to come and swallow him up.
An agonising silence.
“Oh my god,” Dustin whisper-screams. “Oh my god.”
“Look, just—”
“Oh my god!”
And yup, ow, that’s definitely become a full blown scream now, and double ow, Dustin has just socked him one in the arm.
“Hey!”
“What the fuck, Eddie?! How could you not—”
“Jesus! Take a damn chill pill, Henderson, I swear to—”
“Since when you do you say shit like—oh my God, Steve says shit like that. You can’t let him get to you like this, Eddie, you’re too young to die.”
“What does that even mean?”
Dustin keeps jiggling Eddie by the arm as he pulls up to Dustin’s house. Even when his stomach is jangling with nerves, he can’t fight a smile at the kid’s antics.
“Holy shit, this is big,” Dustin says with wide eyes, and it bothers Eddie that he can’t get a hold of what sort of expression is on his face. “This is huge.”
And all of a sudden, it doesn’t seem all that funny anymore.
“It’s not,” Eddie says quietly. “It’s really not. It doesn’t have to be, like… look, Dustin, can we just—if it bothers you, just drop it, and we can pretend like—”
“Wait, what? No.” And now Eddie can read the remorse on his face. “Shit, sorry. Eddie, I didn’t mean, like… big in a bad way, I swear.”
And goddamn it, Eddie trusts him. Of course he does.
“Okay.” He lets out a long sigh, tipping his head back in his seat. “Okay.”
“I just meant… like, you know The Royal Family? In England.”
…What.
“Oh, please, run with this analogy,” Eddie says, a mixture of curious and hysterical, “I’m dying to see where it goes.”
“You know, when they have news, they put it outside the… Palace? Like, on a stand. So people know.”
“Are you fucking implying that you are the public to our… wow, I’m so sorry, Henderson.” Eddie can’t take it anymore; he wheezes with laughter, can’t hide how relieved he sounds. “Next time I’ll ruin your front lawn and put a huge fucking sign there, then you’ll know that—”
“I didn’t mean it literally, asshole. I just…” Dustin shrugs. “Just meant if you wanted to, like… mention it. It would be cool. It is cool.”
“Cool,” Eddie echoes faintly.
“Cool,” Dustin repeats, emphatic.
Jesus Christ, I love you so much.
“Aw, Henderson,” Eddie says, “were you gonna make us a card or something?”
“Do you want a card?” Dustin says dryly.
And yeah, he’s being a little shit about it, but there’s also a note of sincerity hiding in there that has Eddie fighting a lump in his throat. He chuckles through it, flicks Dustin’s forehead.
“C’mon, get out before your mom thinks I’ve kidnapped you.”
“She thinks you’re an angel now, and you know it. It’s horrifying.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m a Saint.”
Eddie waits until Dustin’s at his front door before reversing, watches him with silent fondness as he greets his cat.
He says through the side window, “Hey, Dustin?”
Dustin turns back. “Yeah?”
“We’d have told you first anyway. We were gonna, I swear.” Eddie scoffs. Smiles. “Not our fault you’re Sherlock Holmes, man.”
Dustin smirks, but his eyes are soft. “It was pretty elementary.”
#this is so silly. they are so silly. & i love them so#eddie and dustin#steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#dustin henderson#steve x eddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#henderfam
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Operational Log from the Government Institute for Ghost Supervision (G.I.G.S.):
AGENTS: “ImpulseSV”, “Skizzleman”, “Grian”, “GoodTimesWithScar”
SUPERVISOR: [Redacted]
[Impulse has submitted a request for ‘$2000’ for reason ‘Van’]
SUPERVISOR: Hi boys. Pleasure to be working with you. Can you give a better reason than ‘van’ for why you need two fucking thousand American dollars?
IMPULSE: Oh, sorry sir. We just need to replace some things in the van.
GRIAN: By which he means everything in the van.
SUPERVISOR: You lost ALL YOUR EQUIPMENT?
IMPULSE: You’re new, aren’t you, sir. Have you…met Scar?
SUPERVISOR: I have your personnel files. What does this have to do with Scar?
GRIAN: Oh, you’ll find out.
IMPULSE: Our last supervisor just sort of, uh, approved things. I’ve got receipts.
SKIZZ: We’re at the school, guys! Stop chatting and get in there!
IMPULSE: Gotta go!
[crackle]
GRIAN: Okay, so Scar, Impulse and Skizz are in the building. So far we’ve got the power turned on but no clues. There’s a spooky sort of bonfire in the main hall. Got skulls on it.
SCAR: I lit the bonfire!
GRIAN: Breaking news, Scar has lit the bonfire.
SUPERVISOR: Why did you light the bonfire!? You could draw the attention of a ghost!
GRIAN: Yeah, Skizz, why did you let Scar set something on fire? Pretty irresponsible.
SKIZZ: [noise of incoherent outrage] You try stopping him, buddy.
GRIAN: Can’t, I’m in the van. [further noise of outrage from Skizz]. Impulse is reporting EMF Level 5—didn’t anyone set up cameras? What kind of team doesn’t set up cameras? We’ve got a new supervisor to impress.
SUPERVISOR: Cameras should not be set up during a mission! You should have set them up in the daytime!
IMPULSE: We could use some cameras.
SKIZZ: GRIAN, YOU GET IN HERE, BUDDY.
GRIAN: Okay, okay, fine! I’ll get the cameras.
SUPERVISOR: Why are you risking the whole team in the building at the same—
[Scar has submitted request for ‘$5’ for reason ‘glowsticks’]
SUPERVISOR: Why on god’s green earth do you need glowsticks!?
SKIZZ: Scar, those don’t do anything.
SCAR: They keeps you safe from ghosts!
SKIZZ: What, because they’re too cool for raves?
SCAR: I want glowsticks or I’m resigning.
SUPERVISOR: You can’t resign in the middle of mission!
IMPULSE: Haunt! Everyone quiet!
SUPERVISOR: Wait, a real haunt? That’s highly dangerous! Get out!
[crackle]
IMPULSE: False alarm, that noise was Skizz and Scar frying hot dogs.
[Scar has submitted request for ‘$1’ for reason ‘needs salt’]
SUPERVISOR: Not approved! You’re not supposed to fry hotdogs on an eldritch bonfire!
SKIZZ: We were hungry!
GRIAN: Wait, you guys have hotdogs in there? I’m coming in.
IMPULSE: Oh, wait—wait—yep, there’s the haunt.
[crackle]
GRIAN: Well, Scar’s dead.
SUPERVISOR: Oh god! What!
IMPULSE: I was wondering why they didn’t get attacked. Just a slow ghost, I guess.
SUPERVISOR: An agent is dead and you’re joking!?
GRIAN: Oh, he’ll be fine.
SKIZZ: I got some tarot cards here.
SUPERVISOR: Don’t touch the cursed items! Find your colleague’s body!
[crackle]
SCAR: I hate all of you. You left me to die.
SUPERVISOR: What? Just a goddamn minute. That was a joke? Agent Scar is alive?
IMPULSE: Scar, buddy, cheer up.
SCAR: Grian shut a door in my face!
SUPERVISOR: One agent impeded another’s investigation?
SCAR: Yeah! I was impuded!
GRIAN: What! How is this my fault! A ghost was coming at me and I shut a door!
SCAR: And killed me!
GRIAN: That sounds like a you problem.
SCAR: Sir, I want to file a complaint. About Grian.
SUPERVISOR: Well, put in a placeholder and we’ll—
[Scar has submitted file ‘grain Complaint’]
[Grian has submitted file ‘Grian’s Official Resignation Letter’]
SUPERVISOR: Boys, this sounds like it’s gotten heated, let’s take it offline. Agent Scar, we’ll look into this later. Agent Grian, put your resignation on hold.
IMPULSE: They do this a lot.
SKIZZ: It’s affection. You love each other.
SCAR: I love Grian not murdering me.
GRIAN: I love Scar saving me some hot dogs. Oh wait, he didn’t.
SKIZZ: C’mon, fellas, where’s this ghost?
IMPULSE: We gotta use some of these cursed items.
GRIAN: I vote Scar looks in the haunted mirror. Anyone else want to volunteer? No? See, vote carried.
[Scar has submitted file ‘Im Resigning’]
[Grian has submitted file ‘I’m Resigning HARDER’]
[Scar has submitted file ‘No your not’]
[Last 3 requests have been denied]
SUPERVISOR: How on earth do you work with them?
[Grian has submitted file ‘Turbo Resignation Letter’]
IMPULSE: Oh, me and Skizz have got a knack for it, sir. You just have to let them work it out. Or shut one of them up for the ghost to get.
[Last 1 request has been denied]
SUPERVISOR: Boys, this is sounding like a really dangerous situation and I think you should get out of there. I’m calling a retreat.
SKIZZ: Gimme the mirror, I’ll try saying the ghost’s name.
SUPERVISOR: Did you hear me? Is this thing on? Saying the name is EXPLICITLY the one thing that is unsafe to do on missions!
GRIAN: Huh. Maybe we should have read the manual.
SKIZZ: Just let me do it, sir, we get results.
SUPERVISOR: Are you four always like this?
IMPULSE: Oh, no. Usually these missions go much worse.
SUPERVISOR: No! No, nobody is looking in any cursed mirrors! I have eighty successful mission supervisions under my belt—
SCAR: Sounds uncomfortable.
SUPERVISOR: Our department has a clean record of no agent deaths—
GRIAN: Oh damn, I knew I should have submitted our reports.
SUPERVISOR: And I—What reports?
IMPULSE: Don’t tell him about the reports!
SUPERVISOR: Is this data right? You haven’t sent in a report in… five YEARS?
GRIAN: One thing and another, you know.
SUPERVISOR: No! Enough! You are the WORST team I have ever worked with and every practice you have is UNSAFE and I bet one of you is looking in the cursed mirror RIGHT NOW—
[crackle]
[crackle]
GRIAN: Scar’s dead again.
SUPERVISOR: [calming breath] Okay, you lot clearly have your jokes, like last time, but I need you to know that’s not funny.
GRIAN: I can get a picture of how he ragdolled. His head’s on backwards. It’s hilarious.
[Grian has submitted photo file lol.jpg]
SUPERVISOR: … That … that is a man who has been killed by a malevolent spirit! That spirit is deadly!
SKIZZ: Funny, the ones they send us on are always deadly.
IMPULSE: Get him back to the van.
SUPERVISOR: LEAVE IMMEDIATELY! I AM CALLING AN AMBULANCE!
IMPULSE: You don’t need to do that—
GRIAN: Hey! Dots! I just saw dots!
SKIZZ: Yes! Mark off dots!
IMPULSE: Sweet, we’ve got it! It’s a White Lady! Let’s go, guys!
SUPERVISOR: Is anyone listening? Is anyone listening to me?
[crackle]
SUPERVISOR: Come in. Come in.
SUPERVISOR: I know you’re driving back. Answer your goddamn radio.
SCAR: Well, hello there.
SUPERVISOR: This is very serious. I have to report Agent Scar’s death—Agent Scar? Is that you?
SCAR: The one, the only!
SUPERVISOR: You were dead!
SCAR: Oh, yeah, but then they brought me into the van and we left.
SUPERVISOR: How—what—
SCAR: I dunno, ask Impulse! I’m usually dead by this point.
SUPERVISOR: Agent Impulse! How!
IMPULSE: Me and Skizz have been doing this a long time, sir. Guess we’ve just got a knack.
SUPERVISOR: A knack for—a knack for—I’m going to get a drink.
SCAR: Toast our great success. Hey, hey, Grian, that’s my hot dog. I died for that hot dog!
GRIAN: You weren’t looking! Finder’s keepers!
IMPULSE: Careful of the wheel, guys, careful of the wheel—
SUPERVISOR: I’m never working with your team again!
SKIZZ: Yeah? I get ya, buddy. See you next week.
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For 🍯 anon! I accidentally deleted the last draft so this is a quick draft of what I remember! So sorry! 😢
Credit to the comment I saw somewhere that called Jason “kitty-coded”
—
Time Written - 10:10 p.m
—
No other thought came to mind except going back home to his sweetheart, who was in the kitchen from what his exhausted mind could comprehend, cooking up something with a wonderfully delicious aroma of toasty bacon.
His hidden face plastered over a decorative pillow seconds after he dropped lifelessly onto the couch, nearly making the furniture squeak from sudden weight shift. Arms splayed out carelessly from his sides, legs awkwardly draped off along the armrest of the couch he barely fit on, due to the bulkiness of his armor.
He just looked like a sad, red lumpy potato. Barely having an ounce of strength to move so much as a finger.
The urge to make this your phone background was incredible.
“Y’know how tempting it is to pile ontop of you right now?” You call from your amused stance from the kitchen, knowing he had gotten home from the ever so familiar whirr of the living room window being yanked open by a careless vigilante.
“Try it, babe. I’ll roll over an’ make you regret it.”
If the bubbling pot on the stove was just a tad bit louder, you’d have barely heard an ounce of what Jason had said. Wiping your hands with a random kitchen towel, you approach the now slanted couch, smiling at the exhausted bulk of a man cascaded over it, nearly taking up all the space.
You shimmy yourself to sit in the most awkward way possible. Jason had enough upper strength to lift up his head and shoulders, raising his head off the pillow to unclasp his mask from his face.
The same hand carelessly tosses the pillow aside before he shuffles closer, proceeding to let his head drop on your warm thighs with a groan of heavy appreciation.
Your soft giggle warms his heart, making him feel fuzzy with a highschool crush’s giddy embarrassment. You two were together, yet you always made him feel this way.
“Fucking cold out there.” He murmurs into your lap, amusing you as you settle your fingers through his hair after pulling down his hood. Those soft, perfect little fingers worked magic along his damp locks, nails lightly scratching against the back of his scalp.
Dogs had it lucky with their owners, receiving heavenly treatment such as this.
“I’m making soup.” You say to him, smoothing down his hair after tussling small locks all in different directions.
“What kind?” Came his muffled grunt of a question.
“Potato soup.”
Irony never sounded so sweet.
“Loaded, with extra cheese.”
“You’re a goddamn angel,” Jason sighs, knowing he’ll enjoy your cooking in the comfort of a warm sweatshirt and your loving arms, after a graciously hot shower consisting of him standing under ridiculously hot water for ten minutes, rinsing off soap he borrowed from your shower rack.
“What would you do without me?” You lightly rouse his hair into a weak, limp Mohawk of sorts, unable to see his hidden smirk against your soft, flannel pajama pants.
He’d probably die again, for all he knew.
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x fem!reader#dc jason todd#jason todd x y/n#idk what else kind of soup#this was all strictly based off memory!!
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˗ˏˋ Sung Jinwoo x Terminally ill Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
‼️[ TW: Terminal Illness, Angst to Fluff, Solo Leveling Spoilers ]
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Part 2 || Part 1 ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
╰┈➤ ❝ [ We'll Try This Again, Begin Again with Zero. But This Time? I'm Never Letting You Go. ] ¡! ❞
Living felt more like a punishment more than anything. The pain he goes through starts feeling more and more deserving in his eyes. He was pushing himself to the limits when he shouldn't, he's punishing himself over a sin that wasn't really his fault.
But if anyone tells him that, he wouldn't look back at them. He would ignore their concerns.
He has a duty to uphold anyway, a duty that only he can do as a monarch.
Jinwoo has ultimately grown to be a vessel of war thanks to the system.
He didn't really care much, he already placed insurance to his name if anything happens to him.
When he's gone, his remaining family would atleast live off of something.
He has already watched his father die too thanks to the godforsaken monarchs.
What more can he loose?
Over and over again, he puts himself in the battlefield, exhausting himself on purpose, never even sleeping nor eating.
He was just fighting like a dog.
Well, dog's get much more care than what he does to himself, so does it really count?
It doesn't matte,r Jinwoo physically cannot be exhausted.
But mentally? It's a different story.
He wasn't really depressed, at least, that's what he tells himself.
He really felt numb, not exactly sad, not exactly happy either. It's as if his emotions lie in the middle.
Jinwoo felt hollow, completely hollow.
As if he were merely nothing more than a puppet in war.
The only thing that really urges him to move forward is the distant sound of his beloved's voice in the back of his head.
And soon, after he had finally murdered the Monarch of Destruction— He would be granted a wish.
Battered and tired while on the floor, he thought of what he could possibly ask from the rulers.
Thought of?
No, Jinwoo already knew what he wanted.
It was to turn back time.
To meet old friends again, to stop the gates from opening, to have his family whole again
,... To meet you again.
Yes. That's right. All of this was for you anyway.
Jinwoo recalls that memory very clearly, how you were still in the hospital bed and you two were playing a game of cards while he tells you about how he plans to be a hunter soon.
Your words were quite cute really: "I hope Woowoo becomes a really strong man!"
Those silly, innocent words of yours.
Up to this day, he still smiles lovingly whenever he remembers that.
He became this strong not just for himself and his family who needs him, but for you, the brave little soul who endured that illness—
Jinwoo fought for you
And since he is given the opportunity to correct the past, he requiested for time to be rewinded.
Right then and there, a brilliant flash of white would engulf the earth, bathing it in all it's glory. eradicating all traces of the lifeforms and shadows there is to this pathetic universe. For once in a million years, the earth was beautiful again. It looked like a star gleaming along with countless others.
Soon, Jinwoo would wake up to the sound of his baby sister's calling. Jinwoo would sit up, gently smiling at her.
It took a while for everything to sink in, for everything for him to realize that this? All of this was reality.
How badly he wanted to find you in the time he spent, for just a few weeks, he enjoyed being a child again.
Laughing with friends, screaming at others for a vanguard or healer in the pc cafe— He wanted to find you in an instant. But not right now.
He took care of some stuff first.
Your illness wont awaken until then after all.
27 years, he spent time in that goddamn dimensional crack fighting monarchs and all that crap.
When he was done, he finally came home.
Just as he set foot back in earth again, he went straight to the hospital.
April 9th of spring, where the pink petals bloomed and flew around the air— This beautiful but tragic day.
Was the first time you had collapsed and coughed out blood.
It started with your lungs, to your kidneys, to your heart, to everywhere.
You had metastatic cancer.
Coughing up blood was only the start.
And Jinwoo had come home just in time.
He didn't even ask for directions, he just went straight to your hospital room.
He knew this godforsaken place better than the doctors and nurses himself after all.
As he pried open the door, there you were, resting on the bed staring absentmindedly at the pink trees outside your window. When yopu heard the sound of the door, you turned your attention to Jinwoo.
Dazzling and innocent eyes, just as he remembers. Your youthful face, free of any sign of wrinkles. Still chubby and plump that he wanted to just kiss your cheeks all over.
As you called out his name, Jinwoo marched over and embraced you tightly.
"I'm sorry, it took me a while" Jinwoo whispers ever so lovingly as he rubs the b ack of your head affectionately.
You were confused at first, wondering why your best friend is acting all cuddly and sappy when he totally did not disappear off of the face of the earth and come out of nowhere like some sort of boogey man. But regardless, you can't help but notice the traces of tears about to break from lovely grey eyes.
When you reached over to touch his face, his voice broke and he started crying almost instantly.
Panicked and confused, you pulled him to a tight hug.
Jinwoo was crying, and in his tears and broken voice you could hear the amount of anguish he had been bottling up, the brokenness in his heart finally being revealed in the open for you to hear and see. It felt as if Jinwoo was carrying a hundred years worth of burden. And you could do nothing more than to soothe him.
"I'm sorry... Ditching you out of nowhere and acting like a sappy pup wo got kicked" He chokes as he chuckles gently, "I promise, promise, that I won't leave you like that anymore. Just trust me, okay? Here, drink this."
He hands you a weird fantasy-potion thing with red liquid inside. You wanted to deny him of it but Jinwoo stubbornly insisted upon it, as if your life depended on it.
Well, tehnically speaking, it did depended on that potion.
After making sure you gulped down every single drop of the crimson liquid, Jinwoo pressed his forehead against yours.
Mumbling ever so sweetly; "Let's do this again, okay? You and me, goofing around. I'll let you eat as much sweets as you like, I'll show a lot of pretty things. Don't worry about anything else, Woowoo will take care of it."
Somehow, you felt that Jinwoo meant that on a deeper level. You felt like right now, what in front of you wasn't just anyone else, but someone ready to lay down their life for your sake. The person in front of you, you felt as if he was going to follow you to the ends of the earth to the stars above your heads. Somehow, it feels as if his words was a promise that he would follow you wherever you go.
He already lost you once, damned will he be if that happens again.
#∞ ₒ ˚ ° 📎— kyunnya speaks#sung jinwoo#solo leveling#sung jin woo#only i level up#solo leveling headcanons#sung jinwoo x reader#sung jinwoo headcanons#ore dake level up na ken#solo leveling x reader
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how about "are you comfortable?" with stevie and he's just being really needy with reader
✶ ┄ PUPPY !
summary: steve isn't just needy, he's downright insatiable, and he'll take you any way you’ll let him.
pairing: sub!steve harrington / f!reader
word count: 1.5k
warnings: sub steve always needs his own warning, dry humping, r calls steve "puppy" once (spoiler alert: he likes it), smut 18+
a/n: thanks for your request, anon, and for giving me more oppurtunities to write sub!stevie <3
( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )
Steve Harrington was a sweetheart — the sweetest of sweethearts.
All boyfriends were supposed to be nice, but he was perfect and then some. He’s made of marshmallow fluff, all gooey and saccharine. He loves you so much that it’s got him dripping honey.
It’s sweet. He’s sweet. But sometimes all of his mushy goodness is suffocating.
He’s always needing you. It’s like if he’s not touching you, he might die. Most of the time, it’s purely innocent — a hand on your back to keep you close, an arm around your shoulder to press you into him, fingers spread on your thigh to keep you tethered to him.
But there’s always another side of that coin, a far dirtier side, that has him rutting up against you like a damn dog.
Freshly showered and winding down for the night, you lie in the middle of your shared bed on your stomach while you flip through a too big novel.
Steve watches you from the doorway. His step stutters when he catches sight of you. It leaves him frozen where he stands.
Your underwear isn’t anything special, a cotton number he’s seen about a thousand times before, that leaves more of your ass covered than not. Your tank top is possibly older and decorated with a number of dubious stains you've never been able to get out.
And it's not like you’re in the sexiest of positions either, posed in wait for his arrival. It's quite the opposite really. You’re lazing and in your own world, totally sucked into the book you’re reading.
He might've been offended that you didn’t wait for him to come around so you could read to him like you always do, if he weren’t so incredibly hard at the sight of you.
Steve isn’t quite sure how someone could be doing something so mundane, at their most comfortable and more at peace than he’d ever seen, and still be so goddamn beautiful.
It’s just not fair.
He clamors on top of you without saying a word. He presses his nose to your neck, sprinkling tiny kisses onto your skin, while he grinds his hard cock into your ass.
His sweatpants-covered hips drag into you all slow — the feeling makes him exhale sharply in the place of a low moan. Chill bumps erupt at your skin, at the feeling of his warm breath fanning across your shoulder, and the gratification of your boy finding you so irresistible.
It’d be too easy, to roll over and let him take you like he wants. You don’t give in so freely. You rarely ever do. Instead, you take to teasing him, mocking him, because you know he likes that just as much as you simply giving yourself to him.
“Are you comfortable?” you monotone as he rests the bulk of his weight on you.
“C’mon, baby, please,” he all but begs. “I’ll even take a handjob, I just— fuck, you don’t know how hard I am right now.”
“I think I have an idea,” you scoff out a laugh and flip the page, trying your best to ignore the throbbing cock he presses against your ass. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”
“I just love you,” he mumbles into your neck, punctuating his admission with a kiss.
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm…”
You laugh softly to yourself, several exhales through your nose, at the way he ruts into you all needy.
His cock is still prevalent through the thin layers both of you wear, warm and so incredibly hard. You still feel so much of him despite the fabric that separates you. You can tell he went without underwear for the night. It makes the raging hard-on he has for you, that much more prevalent.
It makes you wonder if it hurts. If the stiffness brings about a throbbing and ravenous ache.
“Flattery goes a long way with me, Harrington,” you purr.
You feel his smile contort against the skin of your neck, all proud of himself because he thinks he’s gotten you to concede. “Yeah?” he mumbles before pressing another wet kiss to your shoulder.
“Yep,” you assure. You turn your neck to look at him over your shoulder and it forces him to leave the refuge of you. He’s lit up with anticipation. You’ve got a playful glint in your eye that excites him. “So you can do whatever you want—”
“I like the sound of that.”
“—But you have to keep your pants on.”
His hips still. The smirk on his face washes away like an ebbing tide. His face contorts into a look of confusion — bushy brows furrowed, nose scrunched, and lips quirked. “…What?”
“I’m gonna let you come,” you shrug.
“But I have to… keep my pants on?”
“Yes, Stevie,” you affirm, almost stern as you arch a brow at him. “Do you understand?”
He swallows thickly, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, then nods with wide, twinkling eyes. “Yeah,” he mumbles before clearing his throat. “I understand.”
When he humps his cock into your ass again, it takes little time for him to pick up the pace. He was needy before, heavy with his want for you, but now he’s downright desperate. He grinds his hips into you, holding himself up on his forearm — next to the elbow that props up your chin — while he lets out pitiful little whines into your skin.
He might not be pleasuring you just now, but a similar feeling swirls in the pit of your stomach. You’ll always feel satisfied when he begs for you.
“Fuck, honey, you feel so good,” he murmurs, breathless. “Love you so fuckin’ much.”
“I’m almost done with this chapter. If you’re not finished by the time I’m done, you’ll have to get yourself off, ‘kay?” you warn with a voice that’s far too sweet. You know he’ll be done by the time you’re finished reading. Besides, it’s not like any of the words are sticking in your head, anyway.
But Steve likes a challenge. Give him a time constraint and an obstacle he has to get over, and he’s golden. Your subtle threat, the way you act like you’re not as into it all as he is — like your panties aren’t soaking wet — just makes him need to come more.
“I’m almost there, baby,” he promises under his breath. “I’m almost there— almost there—”
He mumbles it to himself over and over again as pleasure takes over every fucking lobe of his brain. His free hand tightens its grip on your clothed hip, keeping you nice and still for him while he pathetically ruts his weeping, throbbing cock into you.
His wet, pink lips part to let out every heavy breath and low moan. You wish you could see him right now — the glazed look in his honey-tinted eyes before they squeeze shut tight as his orgasm so quickly approaches.
You know that he’s close by the way his hips stutter against you, like he’s fighting to keep his rhythm as his impending orgasm threatens to take control of his body. His sweats go damp and sticky when several loads of come spit from his cock without much warning.
A whine escapes from the depths of his throat and he leans more of his weight against you, still warm and comforting as heavy as he is. His heaving moans are heaven in your ears and stars against your skin.
Steve stays like that, pressed so fully against you, while pathetic whines spill from his mouth. Even on the comedown of his orgasm, just having you so close makes him feel high.
His head is stuck in the clouds until he hears you laughing. Soft, hearty little giggles spill from your mouths — muffled at first like he’s stuck underwater, until he comes back to reality.
Then he’s laughing right along with you, lazy exhales at how good he feels just now.
You shift under him, silently asking for him to roll off of you, and he abides — still so obedient for you. You sit up on your side as he flops onto his back. Your eyes have a hard time leaving his fucked out face, all flushed and glowing red, to catch that darker gray stain at his crotch. Both sights are equally as beautiful. You don’t know which to gape at.
“Was it worth it?” you ask him with an arched brow.
“Every damn second,” he pants with a sloppy grin.
“Good,” you smile back at him, pressing a too innocent peck to his warmed, freckled cheek. “Now go get cleaned up. You’re a fucking mess, babe.”
Steve eyes flit from your face to the wet spot spreading on his gray sweatpants. He’s embarrassed, almost, feeling like a teenager who’s got the stamina of a goldfish. But he’s more so terrified of leaving this room.
To get to the bathroom, he’ll have to walk by Robin and Eddie’s rooms, and he’d rather die than run into them in a pair of come-stained pants.
“How am I supposed to walk out like this?” he wonders, bewildered.
You shrug in response. “You’re the one who made the mess. You figure it out, puppy,” you tease innocently, though you don’t miss the way Steve briefly perks up at the use of the pet name. The feeling of anticipation swims in your stomach all over again.
#published by bug#stranger things x reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington imagine#stranger things imagine#steve harrington fic#steve harrington#stranger things#stevie drabble#st drabbles
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Alastor is such a Gary stu that wants everybody to know that he's "sCaRy" because he can have black eyes and red pupils, turn big, and shoot out tentacles. Like bro. That's not creepy. And most of his lines fucking suck. How does he know about modern slang? Didn't this guy die during the great fucking depression? Not to mention, this guy swears a whole lot. It would've been perfect if the only time he ever swore was when his staff got broken apart. That would've really shocked the audience. I wouldn't mind him saying "fuck" a few times, but when that shit becomes a common thing, that's a problem. Swearing wasn't common in the 1900's. So why is Alastor using it on a daily basis. He no longer stands out from the cast. He's just another edge lord. He says the most corniest lines too like omg everytime he says ONE embarrassing word, I have to pause from watching the show bc the guy gives me second hand embarrassment. He's trying so hard to be terrifying that it's not working. For some reason, Alastor just wants power.... I'm not sure if it was planned from the start, but the execution is dog shit in my opinion. Pilot Alastor was done better than this. The reason why pilot Alastor was so creepy and overall an amazing character, at least in my opinion, was because you didn't really know exactly how he was feeling, or what was going on inside his head. The whole point of him volunteering to 'help' Charlie run the hotel was that he could see sinners fail and give himself some entertainment. He even flat out admits it in the pilot. But then you just have that gut feeling that there's something more going on with Alastor. That he's probably planning something else than just finding entertainment. Let the 'him wanting power' be like a b plot if THAT was the case (explain why he even wants power too bc if he just WANTS it for the sake of it, then that's boring). And I think what was the most exciting thing about his character, was that he was mysterious. Notice how the only times he EVER used his power or lost his cool was when Angel Dust claimed that he could suck his dick, or when Sir Pentious interrupted his song and threatened to literally hurt him. I swear, this guy used his title as the radio demon for times when it was appropriate. That's what I loved about Pilot Al. He wasn't trying to be creepy unless it was needed. In this show, he desperately wants people to fear him. He even tries to pick a fight with everybody, even the ones who are kind to him. He's a complete asshole and a dickhead. And I'm just like "boo, fucking corny, bitch". Idk, man. It's pro just me. But I hate Alastor so goddamn fucking much. At least in the show. He gives me headaches, he's a Gary stu, and I can't believe this mf got away with talking trash to the KING OF HELL like holy SHIT. Why didn't his ass get humbled at the moment there? He just got freewill the whole time during season one without consequences. Besides Adam tearing his ass up.
Alastor is just so- ugh.
I beg for you guys to let me know if some of my points were invalid. I would actively listen to them. I was just in rage the whole entire time while writing this, so my mind was just clouded with 'wtf happened to the cool guy I once loved' and just...RAAAAAH. so please don't hesitate to speak out. I'm aware that not EVERYBODY will agree with what I say. But it's great to hear y'all's opinions about this. Thank you.
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The Stirrings in the Junkyard
Summary: A one-shot set during season 2. Eddie was hanging out in the junkyard when he caught sight of a side of Steve Harrington that no one had ever seen before, and it caused quite a stir in Eddie's secret romantic heart. Also, with a side of monsters.
Eddie was just minding his own business, really. Here he was, late at night, sitting in a junked out old car that he turned into a little fort. Wayne's trailer was occupied tonight. . .their trailer was occupied tonight. He was still getting used to calling it that since he moved in a few months or so ago. Well, officially anyway, he's lived there on and off the last few years since he was eight. It wasn't until his goddamn house burned down due to his own stupid decision-making skills and his father's that he had to move in with Wayne. Not that he was complaining. He loved Wayne. He just missed that house sometimes, the house his mom had picked out herself. He sighed and tried to get the image of his mother's records going up in smoke out of his head and focused on the book he was reading under a flashlight. That's when he heard it, the sound of hushed voices and something. . . something growling.
Shit, was the junkyard occupied by someone else tonight? Eddie sighed and rolled his eyes. He finally found a perfect place to escape to, and someone else was here. God, was it someone doing something sketchy. . .like maybe a drug deal. Eddie snorted. He was the one to talk, considering he had just started selling drugs to help pay the bills. Shit, did he have competition? No, these sounded like kid's voices, and someone was yelling for a guy named Steve. Eddie peered through the broken door frame from the back seat of the car. His eyes widened when he saw what was next to the very car that he was in. At first, he thought that it was a fucked up looking dog but there was no way that this creature belonged here on Earth. There was just no fucking way.
Eddie slapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from yelling out. One sound and he was done for. The creature was black with long, gangly looking limbs. It walked on all four of them, so it was an easy mistake to make, thinking it was a dog. It had no face. No eyes. No nose. No mouth. How did it eat? Oh God, he didn't want to find out. That's when he saw him, out of the corner of his eye. Steve Harrington. He stood in front of the bus like a guardian or a knight, a nail studded baseball bat in his hand and wielding it like a sword. He could see kids' faces peeking out and calling for him. Steve was protecting them. He was a gallant handsome knight, protecting his young charges. He's more like a paladin, really, Eddie thought. Wait, handsome? He must have let out a wimper because suddenly, the creature was trying to get into the car.
"Shit!" Eddie cursed as he backed away from the window and pressed himself up against the other door.
Suddenly, the creature's non face opened up to a giant flowery shaped mouth with thousands of rows of teeth. He was going fucking die. . .or so he thought. A moment later, he saw more creatures approach Steve, and Eddie watched for a moment as Steve took a swing at one, hitting it with everything he had. Eddie couldn't stop watching the swing of his hips. The creature growled and moved away from the window. It joined the others in their fight against Steve. Eddie couldn't stop watching the way he moved. The man was breathtaking, a word he never used to describe a man before, but it was accurate. The word belonged to Steve, and now, suddenly, Eddie could see what so many of the girls were saying about him. He was utterly gorgeous. Yep, Eddie Munson had a crush on a boy. Goddamnit, those stupid jocks were right. He wasn't straight. He wasn't gay either though.
"Fuck," Eddie muttered.
Suddenly, the creatures ran off like they were called away, and for whatever reason, Eddie still couldn't stop watching Steve. Okay, he knew about his crush and the things that go bump in the night, Eddie could look away now. He was in awe of Steve Harrington, though, completely enamored, and he couldn't look away. He watched as Steve ran his hands through his hair, and Eddie's eyes followed his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Eddie licked his own. Steve’s side was turned to him so he could see his profile pretty well in the moonlight. Eddie's eyes followed past his hair and down the curvature of his back. He liked the way his back curved, and Eddie could image running his hands down it until they rested against the small of his back. . .maybe even cupping his well-rounded ass. Holy shit, you could probably bounce a nickel off that thing. That's when he realized he was being watched. Steve’s eyes were on his or were they? He couldn't see him, right? Steve started moving toward the car. Shit.
"Steve, come on, they're heading toward the lab!" A boy shrieked.
"I thought I saw - Nevermind! Wait for me, you little shitheads!" Steve yelled.
Eddie sunk low and laid down against the seat. He pressed a hand to his chest to calm his racing heart. He shut his eyes tight, hoping that it had all been a dream. He wasn't sure when he had drifted off to sleep, but when he had opened his eyes again, sunlight was peaking through the window. Shit! Eddie sat up and quickly climbed out of the car. Wayne was going to be worried. He hopped in his van and drove off. When he got back to the trailer, Wayne was waiting for him out on the couch out front. It was earlier than he thought it was. The sun hadn't quite woken all the way up yet. Eddie plopped down next to him on the couch.
"Your friend leave?" Eddie asked.
"Yeah. You fall asleep in the car again?" Wayne asked.
"Yep," Eddie said, his leg shaking.
"You know, you don't have to keep doing that. Going to the junkyard," Wayne said.
"It's fine. I loved it there," Eddie said.
"You look a little pale there. Is everything okay?" Wayne asked.
Eddie looked at him and debated on whether or not he should tell him. Knowing his uncle and his conspiracy theories, he knew he would believe him if he said anything. It was best to keep it quiet.
"You ever ran away from something because people were telling you that's who you are, and they acted like it was a bad thing, but really, you didn't want them to be right because of your own stupid fears?" Eddie asked.
"Tried to run away from being a Munson when I was younger," Wayne shrugged. "But then I realized it wasn't just my daddy who shared the name but my mama too. She chose to be a Munson even after everything he put us through and even after he died. I ain't ashamed of it no more because you're one too, and I'm happy to share it with you, too."
"The crazy thing is, is that I never thought that it was a bad thing, I just ran away from it, and I don't know why," Eddie said.
"Looking into a mirror and being aware you're looking at yourself can be an unsettling thing. It's hard to open up to people and even harder to open up to yourself," Wayne said. "You want to tell me what this is all about, son?"
"I like women, but I also like. . . ," Eddie said and suddenly pictured his own dad walking out of his life, giving him pause. ". . . I also like men."
He was leaning forward, sitting on the very edge of the couch and trying his hardest not to look at Wayne. Suddenly, he was pulled back, and Wayne was hugging him tightly to his chest.
"You're my boy, and ain't nothing going to change that," Wayne said. "I love you, kid."
"I love you, too," Eddie sniffled as Wayne kissed the top of his head, and Eddie pulled back.
"Besides, you really thought the friend that I invited over here last night was a woman?" Wayne asked.
"You're - "
"Gay. Always have been," Wayne said.
"You never said," Eddie said.
"You never asked. I never asked you either. I figured you would come to me when you were ready," Wayne said.
Eddie sighed, grinning, and leaned back. He sank lower into the couch and rested his head on Wayne's shoulder like he used to do. They watched the sun wake all the way up, shining down over the trailer park as though it was letting them know that everything was going to be okay. For a moment, Eddie believed in the sun, and then he remembered the creatures in the junkyard. The image of the teeth chowing down on Uncle Wayne popped into his head. He couldn't stop the shudder from coming. He wouldn't let anything happen to him.
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
"Are you sure there isn't anything else that you want to talk about?"
"I'm good, Uncle Wayne. I'm all good."
He had been hoping to talk to Steve that very day at school, but he wasn't there that day, nor was he there the following day. The next time he saw him was on Monday, and it looked like someone had done a number on his face. He managed to get him alone when Eddie himself was also going to the bathroom. He had spotted Steve going in first. He waited a moment before following him in there. Steve hadn't noticed him at all, struggling with the lid of a Tylenol bottle. Eddie made sure no one else was in the stalls before locking the bathroom. He swiped the bottle from Steve’s hand and hopped up on the bathroom counter.
"Those are not going to help you," Eddie said.
"And how do you know what's going to help me, Dr. Munson?" Steve scoffed.
"I've been called worse," Eddie said, cackling. "I don't know if you've heard about what I've been doing lately - "
"Selling weed," Steve said.
"Yes, that," Eddie said. "It's going to help you a lot more than these things will."
"I don't have a whole lot of money on me," Steve said, looking embarrassed.
Eddie tilted his head, studying him. He looked weak, pathetic, and sad like the bruises weren't the only things that were hurting him. He was curious about the bruises and it won out.
"What happened to your face, man?" Eddie asked.
"I don't really want to talk about it," Steve winced.
Eddie could tell that he meant that. He wanted so badly to tell Steve about what he had witnessed in the junkyard, but he could see it in his eyes that whatever he went through, he didn't want to talk about it. Maybe another day.
"Okay. Do you still want the weed then?" Eddie asked.
"I told you, I don't have a lot of money on me," Steve said.
"I don't want your money," Eddie said softly.
"What?" Steve asked.
Eddie couldn't believe what he was saying next. He couldn't believe how brave he was being considering that Steve could punch his lights out. Maybe he was just being stupid.
"A kiss," Eddie said.
"A kiss?" Steve asked. "From. . .?"
"You."
"Right. On the cheek or. . .?"
Eddie puckered his lips at him, and Steve swallowed. Oh, this was stupid. Steve was going to kill him. Suddenly, though, Steve was moving closer to Eddie and spreading his legs apart before stepping in between them. Steve grabbed Eddie's legs and slid him closer, very roughly. Eddie wrapped an arm around Steve’s shoulder as the sudden movement, grabbing the back of his jacket. Steve’s face was very close to his, his lips hovering over Eddie's lips.
"I'm not doing this for the weed," he whispered.
And then Steve was kissing him, like actually kissing him. It was like out of a goddamn romance novel, the kinds that Eddie always denies reading when people ask him, the kind that he was reading in the car in the junkyard. He gasped, his mouth opening when he realized he had left his book in the junkyard. Like he always does, he put his name on the inside cover. Steve slipped his tongue in his mouth, and suddenly, every thought fell out of his head. Eddie moved his other hand into his hair, his legs squeezing his hips as he moaned. Steve cupped the back of his head, his large hand cradling him so gently. Suddenly, Eddie became very aware that the hands holding him so delicately, so softly, were man hands. The lips that were on his were a guy's. Eddie broke the kiss with a gasp, feeling very overwhelmed.
"Are you okay?" Steve asked, cupping his cheek.
"Yeah, I just - ," Eddie trailed off.
"This is your first time kissing a guy?" Steve asked.
"Yeah, I'm going to guess that it's not the first time for you," Eddie said.
"Yeah," Steve said.
"I'm sorry, I only just figured out that I like guys, and I thought I was ready, especially when I saw you, but I don't think I'm quite there yet. Sorry, if - " Eddie babbled.
"Eddie," Steve said softly, his thumb stroking his cheekbone. "It's okay. Take your time. Breathe."
Eddie inhaled and slowly exhaled, leaning his face into Steve’s soft touch.
"Thank you," Eddie whispered.
"Take your time, man. When you're ready, come and find me," Steve said. "I'm in the big book."
"The bible?!" Eddie exclaimed.
Okay, yeah, that kiss turned his brain into oatmeal. Goddamnit.
"The phonebook," Steve laughed and grabbed the Tylenol bottle from Eddie. "You're right, I don't need this. I feel much better."
He kissed the tip of Eddie's nose, and he walked out of the room with a spring in his step. Eddie eyes were glued to his backside the entire time he walked away. He ended up leaning so far forward that he fell off the counter and onto the floor. Eddie flopped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.
"Oh, I am in trouble," Eddie said.
It was a statement he repeated a couple of years later, when Chrissy Cunningham died in his trailer and he was hiding out in Reefer Rick's boathouse. He never expected him to show up, and he certainly never expected to see him after Eddie pushed himself away after Eddie distanced himself like a coward that he is. Eddie didn't deny himself after that kiss. He even went up to Indianapolis and discovered the term for himself. Eddie Munson was a full-blown bisexual. He wasn't afraid of that anymore. No, it was the fear of actually getting close to someone in an intimate manner of letting his guard down that kept him at bay. He had hoped that Steve somehow knew. As Eddie pushed him up against the wall of that boathouse, he could see it in Steve's eyes. Steve knew. He cupped Eddie's face and brushed his thumb against his cheekbone.
"It's okay, take your time, breathe. It's okay, Eddie," Steve said softly.
Eddie whimpered, leaned into his touch, and dropped the beer bottle. He buried his face into Steve’s neck. He broke down sobbing as Steve wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just ran," Eddie sobbed.
After that, everything happened so fast. They barely had time to talk except for that little moment in the woods in the Upside Down, where they admitted that they had been jealous of each other's relationship with Dustin. God, he really did love that little dude, and yeah, every time Dustin brought up Steve’s name, he had been a little jealous, but he had also felt guilty about not going to Steve. That one stupid kiss felt so perfect but also final, and it was like he realized he was never going to have a first kiss ever again. They had barely interacted, but when Eddie saw Steve swinging that bat in the junkyard and protecting those kids, he had known in that moment that this guy was it for him. God, did that scare the shit out of him, so he ran away.
"Hey," a magical voice sang to him.
White lights floated above him, and he furrowed his brow in confusion. There's no way in hell. . .
"Am I in fucking Heaven? Who in their right mind would let me through the gate? Oh my God! What's that obnoxious beeping sound? Someone get your fucking food, man," Eddie groaned and then he blinked more clearly to find that Steve was sitting by his bedside. "Yeah, I am in Heaven. There's a fucking angel sitting beside me."
Steve grinned and blushed. Eddie heard giggling coming from somewhere. He looked around and groaned. He was in a goddamn hospital and surrounded by his uncle as well as the members of the party.
"Don't be embarrassed, son. That's not the worst thing you ever said," Wayne told him. "I could tell everyone about the time you got your appendix out, and you told the nurse - "
"Nothing! I told her nothing!" Eddie exclaimed.
"It's good to see you're awake, Eddie," Nancy said as she started to push everyone out of the room.
"Um, okay, I guess I'm not as interesting now that you guys can no longer watch me sleep," Eddie said.
"We're giving you some time, son," Wayne said.
"Time for what?" Eddie asked with wide eyes. "Time for what, Uncle Wayne?!"
He didn't answer, just followed everyone out of the room, leaving Eddie alone with Steve.
"This isn't the first time you woke up, you know," Steve said.
"It's not?" Eddie asked.
"No, you were still pretty out of it. You kept apologizing to me about waiting too long, then something how when you saw me swinging that bat in the junkyard protecting the kids, that you knew I was it for you," Steve blushed. "And you said it scared the shit out of you which, I totally get."
"You do?" Eddie said.
"Do you think that you're the first person who ever ran away from big scary feelings? You're not. I mean, why do you think that I didn't chase after you? I had just gotten dumped, I was still hurting pretty bad, and suddenly, the guy that I've been crushing on since freshman year wanted to kiss me. I pushed you away too because when I kissed you, I knew you were it for me too," Steve said. "It was easier to run than to risk getting hurt again. I think I'm ready to take that risk, if you are."
"Yeah," Eddie said, grinning when Steve took his hand and kissed it.
"So, I guess you never went back to that junkyard after that because when I went there, I found this," Steve grinned.
He pulled out a book from his pocket and wiggled it in front of Eddie. It was his romance novel. With his name writing on the inside cover.
"Oh, no," Eddie said.
"Oh, yes, Eddie Munson likes romance novels," Steve grinned. "Apparently, he has a type, too. You know that guy on the cover looks awfully familiar. I think I've seen a guy like him in the mirror a time or too. I've got better hair, though."
"Goddamnit, how do you make being a bitch look so sexy?" Eddie muttered.
"It's a God-given talent, baby," Steve winked. "Now, let's crack open this bad boy because you're in luck, I happen to love romance novels too, and I haven't read this one yet."
With one hand, he held the book, and the other he held Eddie's. Eddie, meanwhile, gazed lovingly at him as he listened to him read. Steve paused for a moment before pulling out a pair of glasses from his pocket and slipping it onto his face. Oh God. He has glasses. Yep, Eddie Munson was completely gone for this man. Time of Love - wait, there's no fucking clock in this room. Goddamnit. Time is a funny thing. One minute, you're just minding your own business, and the next thing you know, you have got the best thing that ever happened to you reading by your hospital bed. Time, what a mischievous bitch.
#stranger things#eddie munson#stranger things s4#joseph quinn#eddie stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson lives#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#bisexual steve harrington#bisexual eddie munson#bi4bi#wayne munson#good ol' uncle wayne#eddie & wayne#stranger things fanfiction#rueleigh writes
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Idk if anyone else shares this opinion but what they did to toothless’s personality (let alone how they changed his design…) in the third movie was just… so dumb.
He acts like a stupid, horny dog for a majority of the movie, and in ninety percent of the scenes the light fury is in. He doesn’t have the natural, catlike personality he had in the first two movies; and the writers of the third movie’s reasoning for it is because he’s been “domesticated”… like all domesticated animals all act like… overgrown dogs. When none of the other dragons that the Vikings have act anything like toothless.
Why the fuck would an animal that is supposed to be known for its INTELLIGENCE act anything like THIS
Simply because it has been around humans???
And before you yell at me about dogs being like that; modern dog breeds are a far shot from their ancestors. In some cases, dogs like toy breeds have been bred over generations to be nothing but PETS. They do not serve a logistical function, and as such they are very dumb in comparison to other animals.
And even then, I know from experience- an animal like toothless- who shows a wild, more feral and catlike personality is not going to randomly start displaying traits where it acts like a completely different animal because they’ve been “domesticated”. Which they haven’t. Domestication takes years upon years of selective breeding. Toothless has been living in human captivity because for the longest time, he had a disability- and he STILL DOES- that would cause him to be unable to be rereleased into the wild because he is unable to fend for his goddamn self. (Once his prosthetic tail fin breaks HE IS DEAD.)
Wildlife rehabilitation doesn’t work the way httyd3 is trying to portray it does. Realistically, toothless would never have been rereleased back into the wild simply because the person felt that dragons needed to hide. Toothless would eventually die because he did not have someone to care for his tail fin.
I’m sorry this went on for so long… but httyd 3 did literally every single character so damn dirty.
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Maybe I want Him to Bite...(Lucifer Selfie Card Prologue React III) *Spoilers*
You know the drill lovelies...back it up to part 2 if this is the first part you're seeing!! ->
From there you can be linked back to Part 1 if you haven't read that first either. If you've read both, yay you made it to the final part! Let's goooo (༎ຶꈊ༎ຶ╬)
Alright so let's see what' this goofy ahh bitch did...
We done broke all the rules up in here and I'm-
Good LORD he looks like that????
I was startled because I'm like oh no boo you gonna have to warn me before you pull a "jeff the killer, creepypasta, the rake, smile dog" on me. /j
LMAO I can hear this even though MC doesn't have a set voice.
And everyone else was silent asf like not saying a goddamn thing. Even Gamigin who's usually loud as fuck was saying nothing. LMAO
Yes MC, you did. All in order too like? XD Even though this is some shit I'd do personally, I would also be like "Oh damn I didn't die??"
And Lucifer was like "What are you talking about?" and MC was panicking trying to get an answer from the nobles being like hello????? but silently and Marbas and Morax hit em' with the-
"Ah so staring at him and touch his snake doesn't do anything. Got it."
This would have been me.
Because what do you mean?????? YOU HAD RULES AND WAS JUST THROWING MC OUT THERE WITHOUT CONFIRMATION????
This is why I have trust issues. Lol
So it turns out Lucifer was reacting the way he was out of being startled, not because he was going to end someone's life. But I think we all know what he looks like when he actually is out here in murder mode. The event was clear in that regard.
So Lucifer calms down the snake on his clothing, and MC comes up to also touch it out of curiosity. So this tells us, the snake doesn't really cause any harm per say...but I'm sure it does something more so give Lucifer the power to do something.
Snake boi
MC apologizes and well Lucifer doesn't really understand why for a moment (he does laugh at the action though mostly from amusement). But MC lets it be known that they are apologizing to the snake and him.
WAIT WAIT WAIT "Child of Adam?????" AYO? I need more lore about why he said that, which I can only guess why he said that. (and honestly, now I'm thinking of Adam from Hazbin Hotel lmao)
But I mean, this statement just shows he's a least learning to observe MC for their own personality. Not Solomon's.
MC is confused tho, but Lucifer is like "You're amusing"
ANd then????
HE BITE?????
HE BITEEE
h e
b i t e
Stop. Why is this so hot?
HES SO GODDAMN HOT????? BITE ME SOME MORE????!?!?!?!
SO AFTER HE BITES MC HE ORDERS THEM TO TOUCH HIM?
And this is where I was freaking out on that post. Because I had a headcanon I didn't share here, that because of Lucifer's power he could basically order you to do whatever and you'd have to carry that out.
i.e. If he said you aren't allowed to touch yourself ever unless I give you permission, that means no matter how horny you are you can't get off or do anything until he says so and that brings in a whole new kind of foreplay/dominance type thing where literally his word is to be followed. But at the same time....there could be loopholes if you're smart enough to figure them out and want to be a brat.
Whoever gets his card and unlocks the rest of the story?? I'll be waiting patiently.
Okay, so I'm gonna say that from this prologue alone, his selfie card is possibly the best selfie story out of the 5 kings. I was vibin' with Mammon's but this one rightchea?
Phew. Mostly because I wanna see how Luci gets down and it already seems like his venom is some kind of aphrodisiac. Because sheesh MC was getting worked up and horny quite immediately from being bitten and you know what?
I wonder if you can extract the venom and have it applied to foods for the same effect...(Don't tell Bimet he'd capitalize on that shit)
But man. I told you all that once his card released I'd probably stop caring about Juno and transition over and well that happened. (still gonna do the reader fic though)
It's funny also that I did this prologue faster than I did his event which I STILL have yet to post about. lol
But as always lovelies, I thank you for sticking through my crazy reacts
-your lovely admin ♥( ˆ⌣ ˆԅ)
#whb#what in hell is bad#whb lucifer#whb paradise lost bois 🤍#whb gamigin#whb spoilers#L card spoilers#whb selfie cards#part three had a lot of gifs which is fine because lol
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Bit by Bit - Simon "Ghost" Riley x m!reader (mostly angsty)
Continuation of Games btw (Here you go @aliciamorov bro, i gotchu)
"I love you."
"I don't want to love you."
A sentiment he heard from some highschool girlfriend he had for two weeks. Back when love meant skipping your shift at the arcade to buy them Mickey D's.
Back when love was finding peace from your crap father and the butcher shop wouldn't let you pick up more shifts.
He had said it stupidly. In her bed, having done nothing more than drink a beer stolen from her father and his lips swollen from her insistent biting while they made out. Her giggling filling the room, always had a sense of humor that one.
Sitting next to her, hands interlaced, his words slipped out. When she hissed out her reply, he felt a chill run up his spine. Never a fan of snakes.
She liked him nonetheless. She wasn't heartless. But she'd leave for a bloke going to the same college as her next week anyways.
After enlisting, he learned why he was wrong to say what he had said.
Love was strong. And he was weak. He was weak for the way you laughed, for the way your face scrunched up in the morning. He was weak when he yelled at you. He was a weak man. It was shitty to let a girl he can't even bother to remember the name of linger in his mind. But it kept at his brain every second of the day.
When he allowed a thing—No, a person—a person like you into the cracked parts of his being, you filled it with gold. Bit, by bit. You didn't "fix" him. You weren't a psychiatrist picking at his brain and trying to poke and understand why his mindset was "toxic" and "self destructive." You just made him see the beauty he always gloated about.
He wasn't ugly, far from it, but he saw that gnawing pit growing inside him as the ugliest part of him. And that was what was disgusting. It was a part of him.
Yet a man like you never saw him as disgusting. You never saw the chill of 300 bugs crawling inside your skin begging to acknowledge you're a piece of shit on this earth.
You saw a man, in distress.
You didn't tell him to toughen up. You never even touched him if he didn't allow it.
Simon always told himself he'd never allow another man make him feel weak like his father did. It's why he'd find himself fidgeting at your door, wondering if it's even worth it to walk in with those flowers he'd know you'd die for.
But when you open that door, staring at him, and that goddamn dog jumps to meet him, those thoughts leave.
He wants to love you. He wants to be the one to carry the privilege of loving you. But he's weak. And you'll learn to seek better. You're a tough man, and life will fall onto you.
And in his weakness, he'll be unable to carry the burden of hurting you by leaving. So he'll tell himself he's not loving you.
He'll allow you to give him that squeeze in the airport before he leaves. He'll tell you that you'll always be his man. That all his happiness lies with you. He wants it to be true. He knows you'd never want to love him. So he'll protect himself. Internally he'll tell himself he's not in love with the bubbly man who stands in front of him, with their lips connecting.
You see every part of him. And you know he'll realize it's love. He feels what you feel, maybe even stronger.
Bit by bit, he'll realize it.
I DONT WRITE AND I WROTE THIS WHILE IM SAD PWEASE BE NICE :(( (Edit: nobody told me writing #[blank] wasnt the same as tagging your posts i thought i was shadow banned lol)
#cod#ghost#cod x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost fanfiction#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost x male reader#simon riley x reader#male reader#cod x male reader#call of duty#call of duty x reader#y/n#simon x reader#lieutenant ghost#simon riley x you#trans friendly#simon riley imagine#fluff#cod fluff#cod fanfic
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Awful Characters Round 4 (2/4)
Propaganda under the cut!
BENNY
The first thing that happens in new vegas is that benny fucking shoots your character in the face, steals your shit and leaves you in an open grave.
Benny is by all accounts a bastard. He kills you, steals from you, he killed his last boss, he is the single most duplicitous man around. His gang are all about honesty- except him. He's a lying, cheating bastard. The guys who helped him catch you? He skipped on paying them and left them to get shot to death. His new boss, mr.house? He stole his robot, broke it open, got someone to reprogram it and decided to use it to TAKE OVER THE WHOLE OF VEGAS. Benny literally kills people, lies to people, steals their shit and takes charge. That's all benny does. He gets fucking CRUCIFIED if you don't help him out just because so many people fucking hate him.
And yet.
And yet.
Benny is the single most compelling character in the whole game to me. He's just a little guy! He's just there! You can get shot in the head and come back and he goes "what in the goddamn" and then if you try and flirt with him he's like "uhhh sure? Okay?" And leaves you a polite note in the morning. He's fancy. He wears a stupid suit. He has a tiny gun with shitty bullets. He's catholic. He talks like an old timey news presenter. Literally nobody else in the entire game does that. He's got an intelligence of 3. He's my funtime boy. My silly little man. He's so funny. The antagonist in this game is a guy dressed like a tablecloth who looks at all times like a confused dog who doesn't understand what a tv is.
And like. He's compelling. He robs from you, shoots you, but…. he never seems to actually wish you harm. He kills and robs and lies but like. He apologises for doing it to you. When he sees you again he doesn't attack you, he's just… confused. He tries to defuse the situation. You can convince him to talk to you, alone, with no guards and it's not that hard. If you spare his life, he doesn't go after you, like. Even if you sleep with him he doesn't take advantage of that and kill you, even if you try to. He… he just leaves. He gives you an apology. If he gets kidnapped by Caesar He just… apologizes again. He tells you his whole plan to take over the city, too. He thinks he'll die, and he wants something of him to survive. He's happy that you made it. And if you let him free, he just… leaves. He knows he's beat, he doesn't want to cause any more trouble. He walks out and leaves. The NCR will kill you if you cross them. The legion will crucify you. House? He'll blow you the fuck up. But benny, the guy who lies and cheats and schemes, he's honest. He's polite. He's… harmless. You can kill him with a single shot if you want. And he can't kill you. He doesn't kill you the first time, and he'll never really hurt you again. Benny just wanted to win. When he knows he's beat he just leaves. No lingering, no harm, he's off, off into the desert heat, and never seen again.
Isn't that just insane? like have you ever known an antagonist so polite? He just leaves!! He offers you a drink!! His plan is genuinely probably the best one for the people of new vegas!!! He's. Benny is Benny.
Anyway if you want to see some REAL propaganda go to the blog letmebegaytodd and look in the #benny tag. You'll Understand < https://www.tumblr.com/letmebegaytodd/717051175751614464/in-another-life-i-wouldve-really-liked-just> <- look at this shit man
AZULA
Azula explicitly considers herself a monster. She says needlessly cruel things to her brother and friends. She kills the show's twelve-year-old protagonist and masterminds the idea of burning down the entire Earth Kingdom to force them to submit to Fire Nation rule. I have absolutely seen people get called abuse apologists for thinking she's a cool character. But she's also a (canonically) mentally ill fourteen-year-old who was raised by her father to see her ability to be weaponized as her only value. Her mother, arguably the only adult in her life who could have had a positive impact, had a strained relationship with her because she was more difficult than her brother, and then disappeared when she was nine. Her uncle, who was her brother's main healthy role model, took absolutely no interest in her. She watched her father belittle her brother for years and eventually throw him away when he failed to meet his expectations, so that was a threat she was always facing. She really had no chance. And she also has moments that suggest she wants some sort of meaningful connection with another person. She lets her brother take credit for killing the Avatar so he can come back from exile, even though it means she'll be bumped back in the order of succession and offers him advice that seems genuine. Her spiral into a mental breakdown starts when her friends betray her. She's just a much more interesting and multifaceted than a lot of the fandom gives her credit for.
#awful characters tournament#tournament poll#awful characters round 4#fallout new vegas#benny gecko#benny fnv#avatar the last airbender#atla#azula
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Just saw a physically disabled OFMD fan making a post claiming that Izzy Hands's death wasn't at all ableist, and that everyone claiming that it is must be able bodied and I want to be fucking sick.
They said not to argue with them in the comments or reblogs, so I won't.. I'll make my own goddamn post.
Let's talk about it.
We were shown a man losing his limb.
Attempting to end his life in the aftermath of that loss.
Surviving. Even if he never asked for it. Spiraling into depression and alcoholism and self loathing.
LITERALLY CRAWLING ON THE GROUND.
Before he's given new purpose- A new leg, a new place in the world! We see him learning how to accept and live with his disability, and for a short blissful time we had representation of how life can go on!
Of how we can recover against the odds!
Of how life is worth living even if our bodies fail us!
We get to see the whole crew working together to show Izzy that he was still worth loving, worth helping without making him feel weak or useless, worth making their figurehead! The spirit of the ship!! Something meant to protect them!
Guess what! I watched all of that as a physically disabled OFMD fan, myself! I saw that, and I felt so strongly about it- Because before the finale, this season had given me one of the most powerful representations of disability I had ever seen and it resonated so strongly with me, as someone who struggles with my own sense of self worth due to the limitations of my own body..
I watched every time Fang or another member of the crew physically held Izzy up or supported him in some way. I watched him wear his queerness openly and sing his heart out to the crew that love him..
I watched him get just a taste of the life he could have lived, as someone valued by his community, even despite everything he'd lost..
And I watched him die.
It was cheap, and it was rushed. Pointless.
They killed him, and no one said anything at his grave.
Except that he was a fucking nightmare.
They buried Izzy, a lifelong sailor, in their yard like a dog instead of giving him a burial at sea... And they REMOVED HIS PROSTHETIC LEG FROM HIS CORPSE, to use as a headstone. Stripping him of his dignity. Of his role as the figurehead. Of the love that he was given by his crew.. Everything that stupid fucking horse leg represented was taken from him.
Watching that finale left me gutted. For days all I could do was cry. Everything that they gave, and subsequently stole from Izzy Hands, they gave and stole from me as a disabled person- And I CANNOT be the only physically disabled OFMD fan to have been devastated by this loss. In fact, I KNOW I'm not, because I watched this season alongside my partner who is also disabled, and I held his hand in mine so tightly throughout the last episode that it hurt by the end of it. Then we cried ourselves to sleep, after.
Now I get to read posts on tumblr.com saying that Izzy Hands's death was not ableist, and if I think it was that I'm some able bodied idiot using disabled people as an excuse to be mad about a character's death.
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Would love to know your favorite Joey character (also love the way your draw him)
Aw, thank you 🥺🐐🐇💛🤍
But my fav Joey character? Yeah, I guess I can turn this into a mini show and tell, lol 👍
From Starkid: Ted Spankoffski, which is kinda obvious. Is he a terrible person who deserves the title of "Most deaths in the Hatchetfield series"? Absolutely. Is he still my blorbo? Absolutely 👨🐐
This man has no shame and I love seeing him die anytime he appears in a HF story ✨
From Tin Can Bros: Scrags, but mostly because I am unable to rewatch SAF more than once a year, cause it gives me such slaps in my face after act 2 starts that I am emotionally unable to watch it (/pos ofc, I just can't go through sleepless nights over gay spies anymore 🥲)
So sorry Owen lovers, I just like this depressed dog dad more (Especially after the Grunch, go watch it 🐕❄)
From Shipwrecked: Easily Ernest Hemingway, no debating, lol. Funnily it's mostly cause I love his costuming/design, like this brown on brown on brown is really speaking to the artist in me, ugh 🔪🤎🥃
(Also, I own the jacket, and Joey said it's cool I own something he wore and get to make look cool again, but it's so goddamn big on my 5 foot self,,,,,,)
✨Honorable mentions✨
Sergio's design from the SAF Kickstarter, just look at this boy, peak villain Joey design 💣💼
Dash Gunfire, who I've named most of my plushies after and have a crack theory about 🐇🤍🐇🤍 (He and Agent Curt Mega are related. No I won't elaborate, iykyk)
Tripp, the Brom's Babe who is definitely the most dramatic of the three 💞 (Also, I love these three in general??? Let them be gay and do crime and be probably terrible wing men to Brom) (Someone also ask me about all the headcanons I have about them, there's a lot)
Dracula Joey
I JUST LOVE ANYTHING DRACULA RELATED, OK?? ESPECIALLY IF IT'S RELATED TO THE BOOK! IDC IF HE ONLY APPEARED FOR 3 SECONDS, HE'S A REAL CHARACTER TO ME ❤🖤🧛♂️🥀
#ask#This is what you asked for right?#It is now :3#starkid#tin can bros#shipwrecked comedy#you need to watch everything here btw (Especially from Shipwrecked!)#hatchetfield#solve it squad#spies are forever#the case of the gilded lily#headless series#poe party#friends til the end#long post#joey richter
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Moonlight on the Lake
Arthur/f!Reader/Charles
Warnings & Tags: Smut, Swearing, M/M/F, f!Reader, Het Threesome, No Y/N, Enthusiastic Consent, Gentle - as gentle as DP can be, There’s too many specifics to tag - a lot happens, Readers a brat but so am I, Minors DNI
Word Count: 9.2k
Summary: After a night of drinking by the campfire with both Arthur and Charles, you convince the men to take a swim with you. It doesn't take long for the alcohol to take hold and to end up in a situation you never imagined was possible.
a/n: This is how I die. I think I’ve peaked, because I don’t see it getting much better than this. Also my official headcannon for Charles is that he’s a bit of a dog after a few bevs. Thank you imagination for this very vivid dream.
AO3 Link
The last of the campfires' heat crackled and spat and the moonlight kissed the ground in silver.
It had been a long night and even longer day, but after you and most of the boys from the gang made it back to camp with canvas bags stuffed with cash and jewellery, the drinks began to flow.
You had no idea what time it was, nor did you particularly care. The drinks poured, dances were had and now it was just you Arthur and Charles left around the campfire with a bottle of whiskey sharing stories for your earlier lives.
God knows how much you had to drink at this point, but it was certainly enough to give you the warmth behind your eyes and all the giddiness that it usually did.
'By the time Hosea managed to drag John back to camp, well…' Arthur slurred slightly, lighting another cigarette, 'the boy was cryin', screamin', snottin'.'
'Sounds like he hasn't changed much,' Charles said with a laugh as you threw a smile over your shoulder to him.
You were in good spirits, you all were. Hell, Arthur had probably laughed more times in the past few hours than he had since you joined the gang.
'You not sharing now cowboy,' you said with a mischievous grin, as you tapped at the side of Arthur's thigh with your boot.
You were stretched out next to him on the log, balancing on the palms of your hands whilst Charles sat on the ground, throwing his head back in submission to the whiskey.
'Ain't I told ya enough times. Get your own damn smokes,' Arthur said, although not unkindly. No matter how rough his words were, you could see that twinkle in his eye, even in the low light.
'Oh hush, Arthur. You know I only smoke when I'm drunk!'
He was so quick, you didn't even see it coming as the cigarette smacked you square in the face. You let out a small squeal as your hands flayed, trying to catch the white stick as you nearly lost all your balance entirely. It earnt an earthy chuckle from both of the men as you fumbled with the cigarette.
'Now that wasn't gentlemanly!' You said through your abating giggles, as you swung your legs to the ground and with a slight stumble, made your way over to the campfire. Using the last of the embers, you held the cigarette on the crackling white ash.
'Take my smokes but too proud to ask for a flame?' Arthur teased as he waved his match, killing the fire and throwing it with a simple flick in your direction.
'Will you quit it!' You exclaimed, once again taking a jesting kick towards him.
Even with his hat on as he took the bottle from Charles, you could see that shit eating grin of his.
He didn't wear it often, but goddamn, whenever he did… it made you feel like every single one of your organs rearranged themselves inside of you.
'Charles tell him, he's been a pain in my ass all night,' you stood there pouting slightly as you folded your arms looking between the two men.
'I ain't getting involved. I mean, you can handle yourself.' Charles said, pushing the sleeves of his shirt up past his elbow.
Maybe it was the drink, maybe it was just that you hadn't had a man in weeks, but something dark and urgent stirred within you at the sight of his thick forearms.
Swallowing, you tried to shake your thoughts, snatching the bottle from Arthur and taking a healthy gulp.
'So much for chivalry' you huffed, trying to not look at either of them as you tried to quell the intruding desire. Maybe another swing would do the trick.
'You gonna share that?' Charles said, stretching out his hand, beckoning at it with his fingers.
Dear God, you thought to yourself. You knew he was just after another drink but there was a part of you - and not even a small part at this point - that wanted him to do that gesture to you.
Clearing your throat, you shoved the whiskey towards him as you tried to amble back to your seat on the log.
'Thought we were a gang boys, thought we were supposed to share,' you said, a wicked tone creeping into your voice.
You knew you shouldn't have even started on the whiskey. It did always manage to get you in a certain mood.
'"These be my smokes you here!"' You said, in an attempt to mock Arthur, dropping your voice as low and as moody as you could.
Although it earnt a laugh from Charles, to the point where his eyes creased at the side, Arthur didn't look so amused.
'You're drunk,' he said firmly, taking another thick puff on his cigarette.
'Oh and so are the both of you,' you said, shaking your head side to side, stretching your legs out in front of you as you sat down again.
'Besides!' You exclaimed, grabbing your hat and throwing it into the air as high as you could, and calling a 'yeehaw!'
The hat came crashing back to earth as you all followed it with your eyes and Charles scooted to the side and out of the way as it thumped into the dirt.
'Yer tryin' to wake the whole camp up woman?' Arthur hissed at you, earning him his eighth eye roll of the evening. A gesture he would get from you more frequently than not.
'Ain't none of them sorry fools waking up. And for God's sake Arthur, I'm in a good mood,' you said, stretching your arms behind you prostrating yourself on the log.
You threw your head back, looking up at the beautifully clear summers night sky. The stars twinkled, burning tiny holes of white light into the navy that cloaked your world.
You felt the ends of your hair tickle the ground ever so slightly and you gave a soft sigh of relief. You weren't just in a good mood. You were in a great mood. The alcohol had certainly worked its magic as an impish feeling took over you.
As you looked back down, you could see the men staring at you, but not in the way they usually did. They were looking at all of you.
You looked at them each in turn, a smirk toying at the corner lips, threatening to break loose.
'No one ever tell you it's mighty rude to stare at a lady?' You said, internally refusing to move from your stretched out form.
In your drunken mind, you supposed you looked like one of those stray alley cats, stretching and rolling around for an easy meal. Not that it was far off what you were trying to do.
For all the months you had been with the gang, joining just before the Blackwater, it had taken a while to really settle in with them.
Either from spending time with them on jobs or around camp, it wasn't really until after Colter that you began to notice the little quirks of the two men that would make your stomach flip.
Whether it was the steely blue gaze of Arthur, or that little scar that nestled just beneath his lip or Charles's impossibly thick eyelashes and knuckles covered in tiny, pale scars - you still hadn't decided which of the two was more attractive.
In that brief moment of silence -an intense silence - you had already decided that you'd be waking up next to one of them.
'I don't even know why they put the damn campfire on,' Arthur said, breaking the void as you tried to hide your grin in your chest. 'It's July for Christ sake!'
'Well you know…' you said with a small shrug, 'it's pretty. Don't need much of an excuse if somethings pretty.'
You shot Arthur a look, taking the whiskey from the ground and taking another large gulp. Considering the three of you were drinking it, not much had really seemed to go, although it was your third shared bottle of the evening.
Probably for the best, considering your head was spinning - and not just from the liquor. A pure drunk lust coursed through you, enough to even start that familiar throb between your legs.
You narrowed your eyes at the men, a terrible, terrible idea forming in your head as you chewed at the inside of your mouth.
'Well, if you're so warm. Come for a dip, it's a beautiful night for a swim!' you said, slapping your palms on your knees as you stood, 'coming Charles?'
You widened your eyes in a doleful plea, your lips parted ever so slightly.
'Hell, I'm game,' he said, pushing himself off the ground.
With a satisfied nod, you turned to Arthur, taking the bottle from him.
'Come on, Arthur!' You said, almost stamping your feet impetuosity.
'I ain't goin' for no swim,' Arthur said, attempting to pull the bottle back from your grip.
You stumbled forward a few paces, enough to nearly crash into Arthur entirely.
Your stomach turned with excitement, as your heart gave a thump in your chest. You were nervous, excited and God you were turned on. There was no way you were giving up now.
'Come on, Arthur! It'll be fun!' You said, using the exact same spoilt expression you just gave to Charles.
Arthur shook his head, but there was stubborn and then there was you.
You grabbed his hand, tugging at him as he begrudgingly stood up with a slight sway, giving a heavy sigh.
'Besides, the whiskey is coming with us,' you said in a whisper with a sickly giggle.
'Sure. Why not,' Arthur said, defeated as you gave a little prance and spun on the tips of your toes.
You almost skipped off, making your way through the tents with a spring in step as you stole another swig. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the men muttering behind you with the expected drunken gestures. Whatever they were talking about, Arthur seemed to have retreated back to his tightly wound self.
You smiled at the thought of giving him an excuse to loosen up a bit.
As you reached the edge of the lake, your lips were beginning to tingle from the whiskey, its heat burning into your bones as you bumbled slightly, placing the bottle on the sandy floor.
You held your arm out to the side in a weak attempt to keep your balance as you reach for the heel of your boot, pulling it off followed by the other one. Next came your suspenders and belt, and then you took to your blouse, undoing the buttons one by one.
You faced out to the water, the gentle ripples flowing gently across the horizon and it seemed the entire world, aside from the three of you, was asleep.
With a happy sigh, you removed your shirt as the warm summers air brushed across your nipples. For the first time in a long time, you felt free.
You moved to your jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling them and your riding drawers to your ankles as you stood out of them. You didn't look behind you, but you heard the men approaching, their uneven tread breaking their way across the leaves and sticks.
You didn't care if they saw you, hell, you wanted them to see you. Like they were sneaking a look that they both knew neither of them should see. You chewed at your thumb coyly and you made your way into the cool water, utterly brazen in your actions.
The water reached over your breasts, your feet trod lightly on the lake floor as you pushed your arms through the water and kicked your legs slowly behind you.
'Don't go swimming off now!' You heard Charles call from behind you.
'You should be so lucky!' You shot back, closing your eyes and bobbing in the water as it enveloped the entirety of your body, licking every inch of your skin.
You thought there would be a chance that the cool water would somehow calm you down, perhaps even sober you a little. But it did nothing of the sort. If anything, the thought of being utterly naked a mere few feet away from Charles and Arthur just fed the exhilaration.
'Don't forget the whiskey!' You called, looking up at the full moon that hung over your head. It almost seemed close enough to touch, its craters dark across its white glow.
Eventually you heard the splashes of the men entered the water and you turned yourself around, slowly making your way towards them as your fingertips pushed across the water's surface.
'I see you both made it,' you smiled at the both of them as they passed the bottle between them and to you.
'Can't say liquor and swimmin' is usually the best idea,' Arthur said, as you raised your eyebrow to Charles.
'Oh, Arthur,' you said, shaking your head as you sank into the water, the coolness covering you up to your eyes as you took a mouthful of water.
Re-emerging, you saw the look in Arthur's eyes - he knew exactly what you were going to do. Just as he raised his finger in no doubt some warning you pursed your lips and shot a stream of water in his direction.
'For once, Arthur,' you said in a sing-song voice, 'just relax.'
He sighed at you as you took the whiskey from Charles. You made your way over to Arthur, close enough that you could see the freckles that dotted across his thick, hard shoulders. The twitch of his muscles as he passed his arms through the water.
'Here,' you said, holding out the bottle as he reached out for it. However before he could take it from you, you pulled it back, much to his annoyance.
'Only if you promise to have some fun!' You said with a grin.
He dipped his head under the water, breaking the surface in the following second as he brushed back his wet hair and wiped the rest of the water from his face.
God he truly was a sight, it almost caught all words in your throat and before you knew it he had swam close enough to you to snatch the bottle back from you.
'Fine. S'long as you behave,' he narrowed his eyes at you, almost dangerously.
No amount of prayers would be enough to save your soul from the look that he gave you, and in turn, the feeling that stirred throughout your entire body.
'I promise no such thing Mr Morgan,' you said weakley, almost sheepishly as you pushed yourself away, creating a more sensible distance between you.
'I dunno,' Charles said, a boyish grin playing on his lips, 'I think she's earned it Arthur. She did take out five Pinkertons by herself on the train.'
You gave Charles a bashful look, not quite used to the praise as it made you even more light headed.
'Oh well in that case,' Arthur said as he passed the bottle back to Charles.
For the second time this evening, Arthur managed to make you scream as he smacked the surface of the water at you, covering your entire head in the lake's water.
'Fuck Arthur!' You cried and both men laughed at you again, as you tried to wipe the liquid from your eyes. 'I was trying to keep my hair dry!'
'Don't seem much good if you're goin' swimmin',' he chuckled.
You wanted to be mad at him but in reality you just couldn't as you too started laughing.
'How much whiskey we got left?' You asked Charles as your legs started to grow weary from treading water and after the day's events.
''Bout half,' he said, raising the bottle giving it a slight shake. 'You want some?'
'Well, obviously' you said as he kept it up high, 'of for God sake' you muttered. Teasing was one thing, but withholding alcohol was just plain rude.
You made your way through the water with an attempt to grab the bottle but instead he turned to take a swig and held it out to Arthur.
'Oh very funny,' you said, 'goddamn cowboys.'
You made your way over to Arthur who you knew would do the exact same and he did not fail to disappoint. The men both stood over you, their torsos glistening with drops of water like tiny crystals and they smirked and drank all the while teasing you.
'You know full well I can't stand up this close to shore,' you huffed. The water still covering everything from the chest down.
'Oh, so now you're shy?' Charles said, taking the bottle from Arthur over your head.
You couldn't say that even if you were sober, you wouldn’t have risen to the challenge but if there's one thing you knew about men, was never to back down.
'I said, pass it here,' you said, your voice tight as you tried your best to snatch it back. But Charles was too quick, pulling it just out of reach as you stumbled forward.
Thinking was never your strong suit as you leapt forward, nearly crashing your entire and very naked body into Charles. But for a man who was built like a bison, he could certainly move quickly. You stretched out your arms again, clawing for the bottle.
You became almost single minded, as Charles turned slowly in the water, taunting you like you were a mouse with a cube of cheese on a string.
As you tried another feeble drunken attempt, you felt his arm around your waist, holding you with those thick forearms. He pressed into you, his cool skin touching yours. It's a good thing he was holding you otherwise you were sure you would have drowned at the touch.
You looked up at him, your heart beating so fast it could have caused ripples in the water. But you wanted that damn whiskey, as much as you wanted him.
His dark brown eyes fell on yours as you threw your arm around his neck, stepping up to his lips as he pulled you closer into him.
His chilled lips touched yours, a passionate, deep kiss that tasted of the earth. He licked his tongue across yours, just for a second as he stepped between your legs, his cock pressing into the place that needed the most release.
You gave a slight whimper, but with your other hand you pulled the bottle from him and stepped out of his grip. He looked stunned for a second, but only a second as a wide grin spread across his face.
You chewed your lip at him as you returned a beaming smile drinking greedily at the whiskey. You turned around to see Arthur, a lot closer than he was before, his eyes the colour of the ocean narrowed at you.
'What?’ You said, placing the bottle back to your lips with a wicked smirk, taking another gulp.
You moved closer to him, an inch away from his chest as you felt yours heaving with adrenaline.
'Didn't think I'd leave you out, did you cowboy?' You handed the bottle to him, placing it on his chest as he gripped your wrist and then took the bottle from your hand. He took several large drinks from it, nearly finishing the entire thing.
'Think the rest is your Charles,' he said, passing it to his friend, not taking his eyes off of you for a single second.
There was something in his look that almost made you recoil in fear. Almost. As he kept a grip on your wrist you took another step closer, your breast pushing up against him as you parted your lips and looked up at him in a silent plea.
He dropped his hold on you , his hand snaking to the back of your neck as he pulled you into a kiss. It was hungrier than Charles, desperate and ravenous, his stubble prickling against your cheek as he grabbed a handful of your ass, roughly pulling you up against him.
You gasped into his mouth, almost becoming undone there and then. He had none of the patience of Charles, but all the ferocity that he lacked.
And then the fingers traced down your back as Charles stopped at your waist, delicately tracing both his hands up each side as his broad chest hovered over you, encasing you in the two men with lust and want and all those things you didn’t dare entertain in your mind. Yet there you were, helpless in the water being kissed, caressed with so many secret promises of pleasure.
Arthur removed his lips from yours, his grip still firm on the back of your neck, your hair wet dripping across your shoulders as you felt both the men against you.
‘Yer sure you want this darlin?’ He said, almost whispering in your ear.
You nodded pathetically, your eyes half closed with near swollen lips from the kissing.
‘If you want to stop,’ Charles said, his hands snaking across your front, cupping at your breasts and gently pulling you back towards him, ‘just say, beautiful.’
You looked across your shoulder up at him, his dark eyes soft and welcoming.
‘Okay,’ you said breathlessly as Arthur moved his hand and his finger under your chin as he lifted your face to his.
Charles leant down and started to kiss your neck, delicate kisses, kisses of a long lost lover as Arthur stared at you, watching you. His face was only a hair width away from yours as he didn’t even bat an eyelid. Just watching you, your eyes, your mouth as you panted whilst Charles continued to leave a trail of even more wet down the side of your neck and across your shoulders and he softly kneaded as your breasts, almost massaging them as his thumb would flick across your nipple.
They held you there, working at your pleasure but it wasn’t enough. You weren’t sure if what either of them could give you would be enough. But there in the water, the two of them made all of shit outside of camp make sense. It made the whole damn world slot into place as your whole spine turned soft.
You mewled lightly, trying your best to keep your eyes open, to remain with Arthur in that moment but as the tingles ran up and down you from Charles lips, you closed your eyes, licking at you lips as your hand found the way around the back of his neck, your hips slowly beginning to grind in need.
Charles stepped closer to the back of you, his full hard cock pressing up against your ass, matching your motions. Slow, deliberate and teasing.
Working his way up to the base of your ear, he continued to work his lips on you, thick and wet with the occasional brush of his tongue. The moan you made sounded so foreign to your ears, almost distant as you felt yourself slowly becoming one with the darkness, with the water… With them.
Arthur moved his thumb from your chin, wiping it across your parted bottom lips, removing the water left on there from the lake, his rough skin smoothing across the soft texture. You mewled again, willing yourself to open your eyes, to his lustful hooded look as you continued to leisurely grid your ass against Charles’ cock.
You opened your mouth by the smallest amount, your tongue pushing out to meet with Arthurs thumb as you wrapped your lips around it, and moved up and down it as measured as you could.
The change in his eye was subtle, but unmistakable as Charles remained utterly lost on your skin, soft growls emitting every now and then. His breath against your wet skin sent shivers down every limb.
You continued to slowly suck at Arthur’s thumb, his eyes almost tensing in a way you’d never seen any many do before as he refused to lower his gaze. Bringing your hand up, you grabbed at his, his strong knuckles and wide palms making your own hands feel so delicate and feeble.
You pulled his hand away, his thumb giving a slow pop as it left your mouth. His eyebrows furrowed for just a second as his jaw tensed in silence, making his square jaw even more prominent.
Even breathing seemed like a struggle with the sensations that were going on, but you were wet, aching and wanting. He let you guide him, as you put his hand into the water, taking his fingers and putting them exactly where you needed.
Never before had you felt so alive. So desperate and so content with asking for exactly what you craved. Even in your entombed desire, you knew you could trust them, that they would live and die for you. And in that moment you wanted both.
As soon as Arthurs fingers connected with your clit, you moaned, almost losing balance. He had barely even moved, just pressing into the bud of nerves as all breath had left your lungs.
For a fleeting moment you all stopped, just still in a perfect statue of yearning. Charles stopped moving up against you, his lips softly peeled away from you, the feeling leaving you near empty. But then Arthur began to move his fingers. Sickening slowly he circled at your clit, the pleasure seeping and invading in equal measures.
Letting out a long moan, the men gave a breathy laugh as Charles continued to pass his thumb sparingly over your nipples.
‘Still enjoying yourself, darlin’?’ Arthur said, his voice low and sweet.
‘God yes,’ was about all you could muster, as you could feel Charles smile into the crook on your neck.
You continued to cling onto him behind you as those sweet, sweet circles that Arthur continued to make on you nearly made you drop into the water. But then something changed. Arthur moved his fingers down, across the slick of your heat. You didn’t need the water to tell you how wet you were.
With your free arm you grabbed onto his solid shoulder whilst your other still clung around Charles’ neck. Arthur however, continued to stroke you up to the most delicate part down to your entrance, teasing you as he had done all night.
But then, after one last final press on your clit, his fingers made their way back down tentatively placing two of them inside you. At first you panted hard but as he pushed them further into you and curved them deep inside, a long moan burst free from you. He held them as deep as he could for a moment and you could feel yourself stretching around him in the most wonderful of ways.
And then he moved them back out, but not all the way. Just enough for you to stop seeing sparkles in your eyes as he pushed them back into you, right to the knuckle as he earned another whimper from you as your mouth formed a perfect ‘o’.
Charles moved his hand from your breasts, down to the side of your hips, digging his fingers oh so silkenly into your soft flesh as you slowly bucked your hips onto Arthur’s fingers.
‘Let go for a second,’ Charles whispered into your ear as he slowly peeled your arm from his neck by the elbow steering it towards Arthur’s shoulders, ‘we got you, okay?’
You couldn’t even nod, let alone speak as you just let another guttural sound escape you. Arthur continued to move his fingers in and out of you, the water gently stirring around you with the movements.
Charles dragged his hands across the front of your hips, just where your hips bone lay and back again across the curve of your ass, palming a handful and giving you a light squeeze.
‘You ready?’ He whispered into the nape of your neck through your wet hair.
No. No you weren’t ready. But you were happy to comply. To agree to anything that would give you the release you so desperately needed.
‘Y…Yes,’ you said, managing to find some sort of voice, although it was a voice so unlike your own.
His hands travelled further down, to the back of your thighs, grabbing them with the most force he had touched you with tonight as he held you legs up, spread and open. You imagined that the water may have helped, not that it mattered, and you certainly didn’t care as Charles held the underneath of you almost floating as Arthur continued to pump in and out of you.
You felt Charles' knee underneath the back of your thigh, just enough to hold you in place as your feet dangled and Arthur nestled his strong fingers into the very back of your cunt.
Digging into his shoulders, you became utterly unable to hold yourself but thankfully, you were in good hands.
You could feel Charles’ cock pressing against you again, burrowing it between your cheeks as your head fell onto his shoulder.
Time could have passed a hundred years or more and you would have stayed there. In some fleeting vision, you were sure that’s exactly what had happened as Charles held you there, holding your legs open whilst Arthur did the most gratifying things to your cunt.
‘Can’t have you come just yet, sweetheart,’ Arthur mused.
There was some sound, some moan, something that fell from your lips and with every movement you tightened around him, twitching at his knuckles, the coil building and tightening. If he hit just the right spot you would be left screaming and splashing in the water.
‘Let’s get you in the warm, darlin’,’ Arthur said, as you tried to shake your head.
No, not yet. But you were beyond the ability to form the words.
Charles slowly led your legs back down as Arthur removed his fingers. You whined at the utter torture of it all. Unsure of who even still held your weight in the water and your pried your eyes open.
‘You want to carry on?’ Charles said, planting a kiss on your shoulder as you tried to force the blood back to your head to think straight.
‘Please,’ you said, or at least think you did. Either way, you saw them smile as you, both of them. For Godless men they certainly did look like something out of the ancient books. But given all that you felt, you wouldn’t be surprised if they were some sort of deities.
‘C’mon,’ Arthur said, gesturing his head towards the shore as you commanded your legs to move.
Somehow they did, and by whatever miracle that was, you weren’t sure. Before you knew it you were on land again, pathetically picking up your shirt and throwing your arms through the sleeves and grabbing the rest of your clothing. The simple idea of trying to coordinate yourself back into your jeans was far beyond you.
There was a part of you that felt this was a dream. Unsure whether it was the alcohol, all the excitement of the day or whatever had just happened in the water was to blame, but you stumbled behind - your gait uneven as your damp toes curled into the grass.
‘Arthur,’ Charles whispered, his trousers half done up as they hung off his impossibly thick abdomen, ‘take her back to your tent, just grabbing something.’
Arthur gave a curt nod, as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, herding you back to his tent like some orphaned and weak puppy.
‘Here,’ he gestured to his cot as he closed the flap behind him. He too only had his jeans on loosely, as he turned up the gaslamp to a low heat, the orange flame dancing and licking across the canvas walls.
Just as you were beginning to think straight again, Arthur put a heavy weight around you, something warm. Something dry. You didn’t realise how cold you had gotten out in the water, but the warmth was welcome. Thank God it was the middle of summer.
Charles pushed through the tent entrance, his enormous build took up what little room was left in there between you and Arthur. However, it didn’t escape your notice that in his hand was another bottle of whiskey.
He uncorked it with his teeth, giving you a wink as Arthur knelt on the cot next to you, taking the bottle.
‘This will certainly help,’ Arthur said, his voice a low drawl as you heard each thick gulp.
‘I mean, we should get you warmed up,’ Charles said to you, crouching before you in the low light. He placed his hands on your knees, still wet and cold from the lake as he slowly pushed them apart and he crawled between them.
Arthur meanwhile held the whiskey to your lips, pouring in a small amount as you tried your best to not spill it down your chin. Leaning over, he placed the bottle on the floor, tentatively removing the blanket from your shoulders, followed by the damp shirt that clung to your skin.
As you sat there on the edge of the cot, completely naked and legs spread, you gave a small nod, silently signalling to the men that you were ready to continue from where you left off in the lake.
Charles kissed the inside of your knee, then the other. Soft little kisses just as he had done before, except now with an unwavering look at you as he stared up at you from the floor. He continued to work up your leg, taking each one in turn as he pressed his teeth into your inner thigh, you gave a whine as you pushed your hips forward closer to him. You were desperate for his mouth to be just where you needed it the most.
Arthur knelt above you, his thick calloused hand gripping at your cheek, stroking your soft skin with his thumb.
‘We’ll take good care of you, darlin’,’ he said in his usual gravelly tone. His thumb moved down your cheek and onto your neck tenderly, more tender than a man like him had any right too as a shiver visibly ran over you.
Your fingers curled gripping tightly in the bedding as your back arched and your head fell back, exposing the column of your neck, allowing Arthur to brush at the fragile bones.
Then you felt it, the warm velvet flat of Charles’ tongue on your clit, your whole body straining at the touch and your vision blurred behind your eyes.
‘Oh fuck,’ you managed to keen breathlessly, as Arthur chuckled beside you.
Charles began swirling his tongue, lightly at first but then became firmer, more confident in the pleasure he was giving you. You can feel your chest rising and falling with each heavy breath as you let out another stifled whimper, your hips moving with each of Charles’ movements as his hands lay flat on your hips in an attempt to keep you still.
‘Think yer can stay quiet for us, be a good girl?’ You heard Arthur say next to you.
In all honesty, you don’t think you could. Your mind was awash with everything that had happened that evening, what was happening now and couldn’t even comprehend what would follow.
You shook your head as you involuntarily grew louder as Charles brought you up higher and higher, the pressure building as your whole body was ablaze.
‘Was hopin’ yer’d say that,’ Arthur said with a grin, removing his hand from the side of your neck as he reached for his jeans, darkened unevenly by the water.
His hair had mostly dried but you could still see the odd drop that clung to his skin like morning dew in the spring across the coarse hair that coated his chest and just where his jeans sat.
Not that they stayed there long, as he pulled them down to his knees, his thick cock springing free as he grasped it, giving it a few sensual strokes.
He didn’t even need to ask as you grabbed at the back of his thigh, your mouth falling open ready to take as much as you could. Which given what you saw, you wouldn’t be able to take all that much. But God you wanted to try.
You could already taste the pre-cum as you took him in your mouth, trying to concentrate on doing a good job, but Charles certainly wasn’t making it easy. You wrapped your tongue around Arthur’s tip and you slowly began to move your head up and down as much of the shaft as you could.
Arthur gave a groan, a sound that would haunt you until your last breath. You could see him straining to keep his hips where they were, to let you do the work with as little or as much as you were comfortable with.
But as soon as you felt Charles slowly put a finger into your sopping wet cunt, his tongue making a meal out of your clit, you made an animalist cry as you hollowed out your cheeks onto Arthurs cock. And the air around you changed.
It was as though all three of you suddenly changed under the moon, like those beasts from tales and you all became driven by one primal need.
You lifted your legs higher, placing your heels on the edge of the cot, as Arthur cupped at the side of your face, although a little rougher than he probably intended. Not that you minded as his cock filled your throat to the point where you tried your best to breathe from your nose. Your mouth was just as wet and as messy as your cunt.
Charles soon picked up the pace, putting not just two but three fingers inside of you as he drove harder and deeper, his mouth keeping pace as you gripped the top of his hair, the silken locks falling through your fingers.
You were close, so goddamn close as your scalp grew tight, your stomach and cunt tensing as the coil built up in your spine, all your blood pumping to one place and one place only.
It hit you sooner than expected. Your whole body turning numb for just a second as the pleasure soon crashed over you, a wave so life threatening you lost all senses. You couldn’t see nor hear, only feel that sweet release as you sobbed onto Arthur’s cock, saliva and pre-cum falling from the edge of your lips as neither man wavered their pace on you.
After your last spasm, you fell from the clouds. Arthur pulled himself from you with a smile, as did Charles, his lips and chin glistening from your slick.
‘You good?’ He said, planting one last kiss on your inner thigh, as you nodded, wiping your mouth with the back of your wrists.
He moved to the other side of you, his frame towering over you even sitting down.
‘Can you carry on, princess?’ Charles said, stroking your arm with his knuckles as you waited for all good sense to return.
‘Mmhm,’ you sounded, your vision coming back to you as your legs trembled and shook. ‘Please.’
Arthur leant over, grabbing the whiskey from the floor, keeping up with the night's ceremony of passing it between him and Charles for a moment whilst you regained your composure. What little was left of it anyway.
You moved yourself, turning to face Arthur, his cock in your eyeline as you put your back against Charles, your body already screaming at you that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough for you tonight.
Charles wrapped his arm around the front of your shoulders, the bottle in hand as he placed it to your lips. You took the amber liquid greedily, the burning melding with the prickling that still danced on your skin.
He pulled it away, careful enough that you didn’t knock your teeth on it as he tilted it again towards you. But this time, instead of your mouth, he poured it all down your front, the alcohol trickling down your breasts and over your nipples as Arthur gave a wolfish grin.
You barely had time to acknowledge what was happening as Arthur knelt over to you, licking at the whiskey that covered your skin. He kissed at your breasts, taking them with his hands, grabbing, kissing and licking at your pliable flesh and the liquor.
Finding your nipple, he took it into his mouth, biting down on it carefully, as your body jolted already at the point of over stimulation as he sucked and licked at you.
‘Lift your hips up, beautiful. Just a bit,’ Charles whispers in your ear, and you did so obligingly pushing yourself up with your knee.
You felt his hand underneath you, searching for your cunt all over again, as your eyes screwed shut, waiting for the inevidentable. He played with the coated cunt, just as he had done before, nestling his fingers in your puffy warmth and guided your hips back down.
Tomorrow seemed so far away, and yet impossible at the same time as you could have stayed in the moment for all eternity. A never ending life of torturous teasing and orgasm after orgasm and the men played with you, pleasuring you in ways you couldn’t even do to yourself.
You held onto Arthur's shoulders, as he continued to nip and suck at your nipples, the whiskey almost steaming off of your body as you rocked yourself up and down on Charles’ fingers.
Far past the point of making any noise, you ground your hips into the man behind you as he wickedly used your own weight to push deeper into you as his other hand found the small of your back, pushing down on it so he was as deep as could possibly be.
Arthur broke his lips free from you, looking up at you with those piercing blue eyes that held so much danger and hunger. He watched you as your face contoured, how you moaned in front of him and all the gratification you were receiving.
‘Come here,’ he whispered at you, as sat back on the bed, the pillow propping his head ever so slightly as you bent over, allowing Charles to continue whatever magic his hands possessed.
You grabbed Arthur’s cock, it was so hard you thought it might burst and the thought of it inside of you just made you moan harder as Charles found the perfect spot, right at the back of you causing you to whine and whimper all over again.
You stroked at Arthur playfully as he closed his eyes, his head stretched back. Both of them had been so good to you, not just with what they had done to your body but how tentative they had been. Never had you thought that this is what it would be like.
You took Arthur’s cock into your mouth again, finding it easier in your new position as you forced it all the way down your throat until your nose met with the base. He let out a growl so predatory, you thought he would lose all control there and then. But he didn’t.
Instead you continued to work at it, just as you had before as Charles seemingly pushed you from the inside, further onto Arthur.
Perhaps, if it wasn’t for all the alcohol, you would have been untethered all of again, and you suspected so would have the men. However it bought you some time, just enough so the memory would stay with you all forever.
‘Do you need something more?’ Charles said behind you, as you tried your best to nod with a mouthful of cock, prostrating your ass higher in the air, as Charles shifted behind you, his hands gripped around your ass cheeks.
You felt the tip of his cock at your entrance, sliding up and down as you gave a stifled moan, feeling every single throat muscle move against Arthur’s twitching cock. And then Charles found himself inside of you, stretching you open as he slid carefully all the way inside of your cunt.
You were stuff from every end and have never felt better as you began to work harder or Arthur, his abdomen visibly tensing as Charles painstakingly pulled himself from you and right back in again.
Never had you ever felt anything like it before, as your body moved between them, a perfect momentum between all three of you as Charles started to force himself into you harder. For as much as you wanted to show Arthur all the pleasures you had felt, the moaning and movement made it all the more harder to use your tongue against him. But as you moved your head up and down, Arthur returned his hand to the side of your face, caressingly it softly as you continued to suck and slurp with all your might.
‘She feels good Arthur,’ Charles said in a tight voice, the sounds of your love making, slowly beginning to fill the tent. His hands dug harder onto your hips, the feeling of ecstasy soon returned to your body as Charles fucked you from behind.
You slowly moved your lips up Arthur’s cock again, as tight and as firm as you possibly could, as he fell from your mouth as you took a breath, trying your best to not see stars again. But you
knew that was impossible.
‘Yer look mighty pretty like this,’ Arthur said with a smile, his chest moving, falling with yours as you grabbed onto Charles’ hand.
‘One… one second,’ you mumbled, as Charles stopped instantly, pulling himself from you.
‘You hurt?’ He said, the concern as plain as day in his voice as Arthur too, furrowed his eyebrows at you in worry.
‘No, it's not that… it’s…’ you smiled. Utterly abashed with yourself. You knew what you wanted, what your body craved. But to say it? ‘I want both of you,’ you said, almost hiding behind your hair as the words fell from your lips.
‘Yer sure?�� Arthur said, moving himself up onto his elbows slightly.
You nodded, with a soft smile.
‘Please,’ you said, looking between the two men.
They shared a look and for a moment, you thought they would disagree with you but they both gave you a look of affirmation.
‘You can have whatever you want, princess’ Charles said behind you, planting a kiss on your lower back.
You certainly didn’t need to be told twice, as Arthur grabbed for your hand, helping you up the bed as you straddled over him.
‘Let’s see how good yer feel then, shall we?’ He said, as you smirked down at him, placing your hands either side of his head.
He reached down between you and with how wet you were, he barely needed any time as he cock slipped straight into you. As you sat on his cock, you pushed your body flush against his as he wrapped his arms around you.
‘You just tell us if you need us to stop,’ Charles said, his large hand stroking over your ass and hips.
You started to ride Arthur, his cock hit just all the right spots as your clit was already starting to grow warm and tense again. He lifted his hips up into yours as you ground down, your hips snaking up and down as you could feel him gripping his arms tighter around you.
‘Shit woman, you feel incredible.’ He moaned as Charles gave him an ‘I told you so,’ from behind you.
You heard Charles spit, his hand finding his way to your tight hole as he moved the spit across your asshole whilst Arthur still fed your cunt with his cock. You began to slow down, more purposeful and exaggerated in your movements as you looked over your shoulder to Charles to give him a nod to tell him it was okay.
He smiled sweetly at you, even if his eyes had grown black in the low light, like a shark ready to feed. Your nails raked at Arthur's chest, who held tighter onto your hips, your flesh as soft as moss beneath his fingertips.
You felt Charles adjusting himself on the cot, then you, ensuring he got just the right angle. You felt the warmth of his tip on you, smooth and slick from where it had been inside of you previously, as he teased at the entrance prodding it slightly, careful to not take you there too quickly.
‘Please,’ you begged again, as a goddamn fell from Arthurs mouth.
Charles didn’t waste any time as he pushed himself into you, the intrusive stretch filling you up as you gave a throaty cry. He stopped for a moment, just as you supposed he would, letting your asshole settle around him, twitching and clenching.
You all moved painfully slowly, every ridge and vein catching inside of you and Charles slowly pushed his cock further into you, until he finally bottomed out inside of you. All three of you let out a deep moan, as both men were fully hilted in you, touching the centre of your core.
They held still, as you started to move your hips again, trying to find the movement, the perfect way to move yourself on their cocks. Arthur dug his hands deeper, his face screwed so tightly you almost laughed as Charles put his hand onto the small of your back again and delicately started to move in and out of you.
You could barely even remember your own name, waves of pleasure washing over you with every single tiny movement as you all began to find your momentum with the new intense pleasure.
They both slid in and out of you, their gentle movements giving you everything you needed, and before you knew it, you were ready to cum all over again.
Sandwiched between the two men, their warm bodies and strong torsoses sheathed you just as much as you sheathed their cocks as all three of you moved as one with one aim in sight.
You picked up the pace, revelling in the sensation of how utterly filled you were, as the men took your lead and too began to speed up. Arthur’s fingers dug further into you as he bounced you on his cock and Charles continued to fuck you ass.
‘Shit,’ Arthur grunted, and then you felt it. The thick ropes of cum filling you up as you struggled to keep yourself still enough to ward off your own climax.
Arthur continued to fuck himself into you and your legs gave way under Charles and before you knew it, you were screaming into the air, a mess of cum, sweat and unbridled ecstasy.
Charles didn’t last much longer either as you twitched as sobbed, he filled up your ass with a moan and it was as though the whole world turned black.
You stirred the next morning, the sun breaking through the canvas of the tent as the humidity hung around you. A soft thump began at the side of your head as your stomach gave a turn. But for how hungover you were, you were warm and so very comfortable.
Taking in a long breath, you tried to stretch but couldn’t quite find the room as you slowly opened your eyes. The smell of whiskey and musk hitting your nostrils.
‘Shit!’ You cried, springing up, clutching the blanket to your bare breast as you saw Arthur and Charles either side of you. The memories of last night came back to you in an uncoordinated flash as you brushed your hair back from your face.
‘Morning,’ Charles said, as you looked back behind you to him.
‘What time is it?’ you croaked, your voice hoarse from a night of smoking, drinking and well… everything else.
‘Not too late,’ Charles said, smiling, running his hand up and down your back.
You groaned, pulling your knees up to your chest as Arthur gave a small snore.
‘We need to get up before everyone else wakes up,’ you said, resting your forehead against your knee.
‘Good luck with Arthur,’ he said, as Arthur’s mouth hung slightly open, his face the most soft and calm as you’ve ever seen him.
You tried to not think about last night, about them, about them inside of you. But you couldn’t help a small giggle slipping from your lips.
‘Thank you for last night,’ you said with a smile that felt as though it reached from ear to ear.
Charles sat up onto his elbow, placing a soft kiss on your bare back.
‘Anytime. Come on then,’ he said, reaching over and giving Arthur a smack on the arm.
He jumped awake, his eyes feverish before settling.
‘We need to get up,’ you said as he gave a sleepy nod, sitting up and throwing his legs on the side of the bed.
Charles clambered over you, reaching for his jeans as the men started to get dressed.
‘You alright?’ Arthur grumbled, shoving his legs into his jean legs before jumping into them.
‘I could do with a coffee,’ you mused as Charles finished buttoning his shirt as he tied his hair back from his face.
Charles threw your blouse at you, as you turned the still damp fabric the right way round, the blacket dropping to your lap as you fiddled with the sleeves.
‘Arthur!’ A voice called from outside of the tent, as all three of your eyes went wide.
‘Arthur are you still…’ The tent flap was pulled back as you screamed and threw the blanket over your head. Not that it would have concealed you in any capacity.
‘Ah, Arthur,’ Hosea said, as you scrunched your eyes as tight as possible, wishing the earth would swallow you whole. A silence settled around you as you in hid in your not so subtle cocoon.
‘What is it Hosea?’ Arthur said, his voice tight.
‘I… er… Dutch would like to see you,’ he said, the air turning beyond awkward. ‘I’ll see you when you’re decent.’
‘And… Miss,’ Hosea called, the humour evident in his voice, ‘Ms Grimshaw would like some help with a few bits.’
‘Okay,’ you said weakley, on the verge of tears and utterly mortified that Hosea, of all people, had caught you.
After you heard his footfalls retreat, you slowly removed the blanket from your head, your cheeks burning so much that you felt you were being branded.
‘S’pose that cat’s out the bag then,’ Charles said with a smirk as Arthur just shook his head whilst lighting a smoke.
After you finished getting dressed, you left Arthur’s tent very sheepishly, your head still basically in your hands as you made your way across camp towards the rest of the woman.
‘Hosea said you need my help?’ you said, searching the faces to see if there was any sign that your secret had spread around camp. Thankfully, no one gave you any knowing looks as Karen silently dropped a bucket of laundry at your feet.
Picking it up, you began to make your way over to the lake, your stomach giving a flip of excitement as you remember what happened the last time you were there.
#arthur morgan#charles smith#f!reader#arthur morgan x reader#charles smith x reader#arthur morgan charles smith x reader#arthur morgan x you#charles smith x you#arthur morgan charles smith x you#oneshot#arthur morgan smut#charles smith smut#rdr2#rdr2 smut#rdr2 fanfic
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