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flowercrowngods · 4 months

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it's yearning steddie get high with the others and make out about it hours (smut-ish)

Eddie hates being reminded that making promises to himself, and only himself, is pretty much useless if the only person holding him accountable to stick to his promise is one Eddie fucking Munson. Because that guy can’t be trusted.

Especially not when it comes to Steve and his stupid perfect hair, his stupid perfect dimples, his preppy fucking everything, and — perhaps most importantly — the breathy note his voice gets when the boy replaces his beautiful piece of brain with Eddie’s finest weed.

Steve in all his sober glory is unbearable at best, sure, that’s old news. But high? When the pained frown he’s not even aware of until he complains about a headache smoothes out and the tension in his shoulders disappears? When his scars no longer pull at every movement and he can hold himself again in the way he used to before everything — broad movements with a clumsy little edge to them that have Eddie’s heartstrings play rope skipping with his sanity.

That. That’s it. That’s it for Eddie.

And it’s no surprise that it’s also what leaves him helpless in the face of Nancy hopefully suggesting they get high again tomorrow night; all of them. Offering Eddie the chance at getting to see that tension fall away again, and that pale smile be replaced with an easy, genuine, lingering one — dreamy and so fucking pretty.

Luring Eddie with the most beautiful insanity.

So he says yes, despite having promised himself that he wouldn’t. Not after what happened last time. With Steve all the way up in his space, brushing his hair behind his ear with wonderment, trailing his hand down that lock until he forgot what he was going to say. What he was going to do.

Forgetting, too, that Eddie was sober, because he wanted to watch Steve without getting caught — but Steve, all high and sweet and tactile, apparently decided to do the same. He looked. And touched. And smiled and breathed and stayed right there. Fingertips dancing around the frayed ends of Eddie’s hair.

Something shifted — first between them, then around them. And then between them again when Eddie stepped back and turned away, in desperate need of a cool drink to stave off the feeling of being caught, of being trapped, of being so fucking gone on the prettiest god-damn boy in all of Indiana. And of having said boy look at him like that.

They shouldn’t get high again. They shouldn’t.

But he knows it helps with the pain like their meds never do; he knows it helps Nance sleep better, breathe better, exist in this post-apocalyptic world that doesn’t even remember the apocalypse, whose only reminders lie in the scar tissue of some teenagers and some graves that nobody knows are empty.

He knows that if he says no, they’ll find someone else to provide; and he doesn’t like the thought of that. Not one bit.

So it’s not even the thought of Steve’s dazed little smile that gets him to agree, nodding at Nance with an easy smile, saying, “Sure, let’s do it.”

But it is the thought of Steve’s dazed little smile, his breathy voice, his tactile nature that comes out even more when he’s high out of his mind like he knows he’s floating and needs someone to anchor him, and the memory of that stolen little moment, that makes Eddie curse himself to all hells once Nancy’s blooming smile is out of sight and he’s free of judgment to kick the kitchen counter beside him with a hearty curse.

He can do it. He can. All he needs to do is not stay sober this time, take the edge off and get out of his head about all of this, because he’s actually far less likely to do anything stupid under the influence, and also not look at Steve All Eyes On Me Harrington.

Easy.

Right?

Totally.

Except, as it turns out, ignoring Steve is both easier and harder than Eddie expected. The thing is, he’s good at diving into any conversation with just about anyone, making it larger than it needs to be until everyone in the room will give him funny looks but still roll with it, because Eddie Munson is just Like That, right?

But Steve doesn’t give him funny looks. Oh, they’re far from fun. There’s something in there that reminds Eddie of a kicked puppy in those fleeting moments that he lets his eyes meet Steve’s, never letting them linger, never letting them take him in and hold him and bask in the sunlight that is stored in those… Those beautiful, beautiful eyes. And that pretty, pretty face.

A face that shouldn’t look so sad.

He wants to ask what’s wrong, ask him if it’s a bad pain day, ask him if he didn’t sleep last night either, or if something happened. But how is he supposed to ask, to let any words come out of his mouth, when Steve just won’t look away. When he’s looking at Eddie like that again, when the little something that has shifted between them suddenly becomes massive enough to steal all the air away from his lungs and make his arms tingle in a way that he knows will only get better if he gets to wrap them around Steve.

He can’t. So he doesn’t. He doesn’t ask. But he doesn’t look away either, and he knows he’s already lost. He knows he broke this promise he made to himself.

But it’s fine, maybe, if the slight twitch in the corners of Steve’s lips is anything to go by. Like he, too, wants to say something but can’t. Like he knows Eddie is the same. Like his heart is racing, too, and he tried not to look but they’re so stupid and looked anyway and now they can’t—

“Guys?” Robin interrupts their little moment, the bubble bursting with a loud snap of her fingers that makes Eddie physically flinch.

He looks at her, spooked to shit and gasping because he does not do well with sudden loud noises or the impromptu bursting of bubbles — not after everything that happened.

“Shit, sorry, oh my God!” Robin’s there immediately, reaching for his hand, Nancy laying hers on his shoulder, Jonathan making himself known with a gentle little, “You’re fine, man.”

Eddie regains his footing and breathes away the panic, thinking that maybe getting high today wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He hands Robin the baggie and stuffs his hands into his pockets, making himself a little smaller by muscle memory alone.

Steve’s hand comes to rest between his shoulder blades — reassuring and warm. Like a flower, Eddie rises to follow it. He catches Steve’s smile out of the corner of his eyes and wants to rest his face against it. Wants to feel it against his skin. Wants to feel it shift into something deeper. Something real.

God, he’s so hopeless.

Good thing that Robin’s got the blunt under control, because Eddie does not trust his hands right now.

They grab the snacks and drinks and head outside to where Steve and Robin laid out pillows and blankets on the lawn, framed with dimly glowing white Christmas lights that Robin insists upon whenever they do this. Makes it feel a little less fucked up for her. Like we’re doing this because we want to, and not because we need it to sleep or to cope with the pain or whatever, you know? Put pretty lights anywhere, and it’s a choice.

Eddie has to admit that she has a point there, but the truth is he’ll smoke anywhere, fairy lights or no. Although there’s something, a capital-s Something about watching Steve framed by a thousand little lights smoothing out the worry lines on that beautiful face and making him seem all the more angelic for it.

Eddie actually called him angel once — the first time they did it like this. Made Steve smile like nothing else Eddie’s said to him since. Or anyone else for that matter. If he were any better at feeling the ground beneath his feet and the air in his lungs, he’d call him that again. Make him smile like that again.

But the ground is shifting and air is always scarce these days, with Steve’s hands on his body so fleetingly, so accidentally leaving marks on scar tissue, making Eddie wish he could feel more of Steve’s warmth there.

Making him wish he could ask. Touch me higher. Lower. Longer. Make it last. Make it count. Let me feel it, just for a second. Let me feel it where they didn’t steal chunks of my skin and my soul and, apparently, my sanity.

Argyle is the first to spread out on the blankets with a hearty groan that leaves everyone with a fond smile, gathering around him in a semi circle of amusement. He makes grabby hands at Robin, or maybe at the unlit joints she’s safekeeping — but either way, she follows suit, cuddling up to Argyle and in turn making grabby hands at Steve, who does as he’s told and laughs in that gentle, melodic way that they so seldomly hear these days.

Steve’s eyes fall on Eddie then, but a surge of worry and panic overcomes him, half expecting Steve to follow Robbie’s and Argyle’s example and reach for Eddie next. Or not reach for him. Either way, Eddie doesn’t want to find out, his heart beating in his chest at the endless possibilities stowed away in his overactive imagination. Instead of waiting for Steve’s next move, he sits down right here at the opposite end of the blanket, reaching for one of the pillows so he can hug it to his chest and have something to hold on to, just to keep his hands busy.

“Just don’t crush the goods there, birdie,” he grins, watching Nancy and Johnathan find a place to sit, too. He scoots over to make room for them, moving further from Steve in the process and feeling the distance in his chest. It’s so stupid. Fucked up, really.

“Oh, the goods are plenty safe, my dude,” Argyle says, earning himself a giggly groan from Robin that sounds a lot like, Gross!

Jonathan throws a pillow in Argyle’s face, which he deftly catches with just as salacious a grin.

Eddie tunes them out for a moment as he catches Steve’s eyes boring into him. He cocks an eyebrow and inclines his head, silently asking him what’s up in way less magical a way than he has with Robin.

He doesn’t really expect Steve to react in any way other than maybe a shrug or a brief, reassuring smile that really has no meaning other than, I’m fine, except for all the ways you know I’m not.

But Steve doesn’t smile. And he doesn’t shrug. He keeps his eyes on Eddie and fucking pouts. Looks like he’s not even aware of it, his eyes a little glazed already, seeming far away. Far away and right here and looking so fucking sad about it. About the few feet between them and Eddie being all the way over there.

It’s a bit like the moment they shared earlier, with Steve looking so sad and Eddie wanting to do something about it. He couldn’t then. But now…

Eddie’s breath hitches a little as he mirrors Steve’s position, falling backwards and leaning on his elbows., never once dropping his eyes. Stretching out his legs until he can nudge Steve’s ankle with his foot. Watching as those eyes snap down to the briefest contact in surprise, watching as Steve looks caught. And watching, too, as his lips twitch and his foot slowly, incrementally moves closer to Eddie’s like he can’t help it. Like he needs to touch him. Always, always needs to touch him.

And Eddie can feel it there, so he doesn’t move away. He wants to hold his hand, wants to run his fingers through his hair and for Steve to do the same. He wants to breathe him in, wants to live in a Steve-filled world and feel welcomed in it.

But he can’t. Because they’re not like that. And because this moment is not like that. And Steve is… Well, he is like that, he’s pretty sure. But maybe not for Eddie. Maybe not like that.

Steve’s foot is warm against his, pristine white baseball socks so stark a contrast against Eddie’s; threadbare and black, with more holes than fabric these days. He can’t really help the wave of embarrassment that washes over him, or the urge to pull back his feet and hide them in his shoes again. Sacrifice the warmth for safety.

But then Steve seems to notice just a second after Eddie does, and he smiles. Huffs a little with it, like it just bubbles out of him. Eddie wants to lean across the blanket and chase it. Chase the fondness and keep it there forever.

And that’s another thing about Steve that is so very fucked up: he doesn’t let Eddie hide. He doesn’t let him trade warmth for security, because — smile in place — Steve slowly moves his feet along the side of Eddie’s like he’s playing fucking Connect the Dots with the holes in his socks. It’s ridiculous.

It’s ridiculous, and Eddie is helpless. He’s so gone, a hundred percent. He’s so fucked up over that silly boy and the way he smiles at the most lamest of things.

It’s not his fault that he leaves his feet where they are, the warmth of Steve’s slow, teasing touch shooting electricity up his legs that leaves him with goosebumps and a sudden case of uncomfortably tight jeans.

He’s glad there’s still a pillow in his lap. And he’s glad, too, that the night is dark enough, the fairy lights not bright enough, to reveal the flush rising to his cheeks as it feels like the bravest thing he’s ever done stay like this. To have Steve looking at him like this. Eyes hooded and intense. Like he sees right through Eddie. Like he likes what he sees.

With a dull click, Robin’s Zippo pulls him back to reality in what must be the gentlest of ways, and Eddie manages a smile as he watches her gently place the doobie between Steve’s lips before she lights it, one hand on his cheek. Their faces light up, leaving the rest of the world in the dark, and Eddie is struck with how good they are together.

There’s something in the way she lights the joint for him, some kind of love language from the girl who burnt down the hell dimension below them and left it in ashes, and the boy who held her hand through it.

She holds his eyes as the flame dies and something passes between them as Steve slowly closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Takes that first hit.

Eddie’s smile falters as he watches, the glowing cherry coming to life and lighting up Steve’s face, revealing that relaxed little smile on his lips as he holds it in for five, six, seven before exhaling around it in a slow, drawn-out way. He blows it in Robin’s face like he always does, and Robin laughs and shoves him back, like she always does.

And Eddie wants to trade her place. Like he always does. Eyes transfixed on Steve as he takes the next hit and pulls the joint from between his lips. Holding his breath again. And Eddie wants to be held like that. Wants to fill Steve’s lungs like that, wants to leave an aftertaste that is both sweeter and biting as he does to Steve what that first hit does to him. Leaving him all soft and gentle and so, so at ease, his eyes droopy and all those lines of pain and worry smoothed out by him. Eddie. On his lips. In his mouth. Fuck, anywhere, really. Everywhere.

He follows Steve on his exhale, his head getting a little dizzy with the lack of air, but still he is slow to breathe in again. It feels strangely intimate, watching him like this. Watching as that tension falls away and he hums a little around the bud — relaxed and relieved and appreciative. It feels like they’re the only people left in this town, in this state, maybe in the whole world.

Eddie wants to stay alone like this forever, chase Steve’s breath and wish it would hit his face like that, caress his cheeks until the air around them claims it and erases all traces of Steve; but not from Eddie’s skin. Never from his skin.

But they’re not alone. And Steve opens his eyes. And Eddie is caught.

Still he doesn’t move, doesn’t look away as Steve blows out the smoke, sweet and earthy in the air between them as it slowly finds its way to him across the blanket. He imagines that he can feel it as the smell grows stronger, imagines the smoke to feel warm against his cheek as he breathes it all in, holding those hazel eyes in the dark that refuse to look away from him.

It’s like that moment the other day in Steve’s kitchen when he was so close Eddie could smell all of him, frozen as he was, rooted to the spot — too scared to move and reveal himself, reveal all of himself, all the ugly truths and dreams. His wishes. His desires.

Why do you keep looking? Eddie wants to ask. What are you looking to find? Am I just an experiment to you, are you looking at yourself through my eyes? Say something. Anything.

But Steve doesn’t. He never does. Steve Harrington isn’t really the type to just say what’s on his mind, too used to Robin by his side to just read it all and react in her own way. Too used to Dustin, who’d do the talking for him. Too used to just letting his eyes, his arms, his posture convey his message.

Too used to people knowing him. Getting a good read on him. But not Eddie, because Eddie never learned how to fucking read people like Steve Harrington cast in pretty light and relaxation. Angry, he can read him no problem. When he’s pissed, when he’s annoyed, when he’s sad. Tense. Worried.

But not this. Never this. This intensity, this steady gaze resting only on him. He never looks at Robin like that, and he doesn’t fucking look at anyone else lately.

It’s driving Eddie insane.

It’s too much.

He snaps when Steve passes the joint back to Robin, and sits up to pull his feet back to himself, covering them with his hands to pretend the warmth is still there. Frowns at the holes in his socks, feeling more exposed than ever. He curls in on himself a little, pretending to be very fascinated with a little thread that’s come loose in the blanket beneath him while the others hold casual conversation around him.

This was a bad idea. He’s so fucked.

Part of him debates if he should leave, if he should just call it a day and bid them goodnight. The other part of him wants to just close the distance between him and Steve and settle in beside him so the weight of that gaze won’t fucking wear him down any more.

But knowing Steve, that wouldn’t work.

Knowing Steve, nothing works.

Feeling pathetic and small, Eddie lets himself fall to his side, hiding his face behind Nancy, whose hand comes to rest in his hair, combing through it just a little bit. Allowing him to collect himself. This isn’t new, and they don’t really question when Eddie just randomly lies down anywhere, or if he just stops talking all of a sudden.

It’s why they do this, after all. No judgment. No questions. Just the sweet, sweet release of Mary Jane.

It helps, having her hands in his hair like this, grounding him. It helps, finding no question or worry in her eyes as she looks down at him with a little smile — her way of including him in the conversation. He smiles back, just a little bit, and closes his eyes to better focus on her hand rather than the moment. She chuckles when he begins to purr, and then the smile stays a little longer.

After a while, when she offers him the joint, Eddie shifts to lie on his back and gazes up to find the clouds have cleared and revealed the night sky behind them. It’s pretty, the summer sky, and he takes a long drag trying to think of nothing else. A hot wave of smoke hits his lungs, and it tickles a bit just like it always does, but the urge to cough it back out has been gone for years. These days, his lungs allow the warm embrace of the smoke and allow him to hold his breath as long as he wants, feeling a pleasant buzz after the fifth drag. It’s the good stuff after all. Munson’s Finest.

He passes the joint back to Nancy, too comfortable to get up and pass it to anyone else, trusting her to do it without complaint. She does. She’s an angel like that. Puts her hand back in his hair and plays with his overgrown bangs a little while Eddie just stares up at the sky.

Steve’s talking, but the words don’t really translate. It doesn’t matter, though. Just hearing his voice is enough for Eddie to sort of drift into a pleasant sphere of nothingness, his chest tightening a little with it. Always, always tight when he hears that voice. Like his heart has grown three times its size and his ribcage didn’t get the memo that Eddie Munson is hopelessly, helplessly, endlessly gone for a boy who refuses to look away.

The thing is, Steve has always looked. Always. Even in the Upside Down. The first time, and the second. And then, the third. And Eddie wants it to mean something. Wants it to mean everything, or at least carry that possibility.

But there’s no way to find out. There’s only him and the stars and Nancy Wheeler’s hand in his hair after his life took several wrong turns that left him with more scar tissue than skin these days, and the horrible realisation that, after the world ended and rebuilt, he can fall in love. That he can want. That he can have these cravings that he’d always heard everyone else talk about, wondering if that was just another layer of freak to him, or if he was simply Like That.

They’re lonely realisations, he finds. Alienating, in a way. Because not only does he not know how to navigate Harrington, no, he’s a riddle even to himself right now.

All he knows is that he wants to touch. To hold. To kiss. To crawl into him, on top of him, beneath him, and pull his own name from those lips in tiny little gasps that have nothing in common with the frantic gasps of panic after their first stint with the hell dimension. He wants a do-over. He wants a chance. A real fucking chance to have all these smiles, all these looks mean something.

Arm outstretched, he reaches for the blunt again, taking it from whomever has it right now, aiming to shut off his brain a little more. Not to suppress it, but to shut it off. Even if that means he has to finish this thing. It’s fine. They have more. They always have more, because Jon and Argyle have an unreal fucking tolerance.

With a chuckle, Nancy bypasses his hand and puts the joint between his lips and ignores his indignant hum.

“Treat yourself”, she says, her voice wonderfully slow and lower in pitch. “I’ll be right back, yeah?”

“‘Kay.”

The warmth of her hand leaves his scalp, and with her body gone — getting up in way too swift a motion even for sober people — the night air seems a little colder. Eddie shivers a little, refusing to look at anyone, and just takes drag after drag, deciding he’ll finish this one. It’s his weed after all.

By the sounds of it, Robin is already lighting the next one. Good girl. Smart girl. Best fucking girl in the whole wide world.

Thick clouds of hot smoke waft through his lungs and all the way through his body up to his brain, leaving his arms and legs with a tingling feeling and his head with a pleasant buzz and tunes out most everything else around him. It’s great. It’s good. It’s wonderful.

It’s why he doesn’t realise that the air is warm again and a body shielding him from everyone else until there’s a hand in his hair again. He opens his eyes to snark at Wheeler, but—

It’s not Wheeler. It’s Steve. Knees pulled to his chest, chin resting on top as he smiles down at Eddie.

Neither of them says a word, but Eddie’s breath hitches. Stops, stutters. Just like his heart. And yet all he can do is stare up. Wonder if it’s real. Wonder if it’s real.

“Is this okay?” Steve whispers, fingers barely touching Eddie’s skin as he sort of plays with his hair.

After a beat or two, Eddie nods, careful not to move too much. Careful not to chase those fingers and all the things they could mean.

“Good.”

And then Steve pulls the joint from between Eddie’s lips, and Eddie wants to warn him because this one’s close to the end and bound to be stronger, but it doesn’t seem to faze Steve as he just sucks in the smoke like it’s the first lungful of air he gets after a long day stuck inside. Smiling around the bud as it dies between his lips, he presses it into the grass beside him, extinguishing the last of it.

He exhales, and Eddie can make out a tiny cloud of smoke against the night sky, watching as it wanders toward him. He waits for Steve to say something. There is what feels like intent in the movements of his hand, in the sudden appearance by his side, and in the way he— he fucking looks at him again. The sky is full of stars, the backyard full of fairy lights, and Steve Harrington is looking at him.

“You okay?” Eddie asks at last, breaking the silence, wondering if his voice always sounds so small, so quiet, so endlessly tiny. Wondering if Steve even heard.

But he did, because he smiles again. He did, because his hand stills. Touches Eddie’s skin. His scalp, his temple.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, looking from Eddie’s eyes to his own hand with something akin to wonder. Or marvel.

And Eddie shivers again when that hand travels down. Caressing his cheek, definitely with intent. Electricity shoots through his body again, and the intensity in Steve’s eyes leaves him with goosebumps. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t dare. Barely even swallows as Steve bites his lip absently and moves on, trailing from Eddie’s cheek down to his...

He’s touching his lips, and Eddie doesn’t breathe. Steve runs his forefinger along Eddie’s bottom lip, and in another world would he open his mouth and nip on his fingers or gasp at the touch and be better at this, be so much better at everything. But in this one, he lies motionless as Steve just fucking… explores.

And his touch is so light, it’s so gentle, so sweet on the rough scar tissue, and yet so absent, it doesn’t have to mean anything. He could pull back his hands now and claim that Eddie had something there. He could pull back and live his life unchanged. Leave Eddie behind in this state of paralysis, changed irrevocably, and be safe.

But that’s not what Steve does.

Steve was never one to choose safety over bravery, and he has the scars to prove it now. The permanent stiffness of his back that barely lets him feel anything these days. The set in his jaw when he breathes through the pains phantom and real, the crease between his brows when the memory pains flare up.

But his back is hunched in comfort now rather than in pain, and his shoulders are at ease. His lips are lightly ajar around a barely-there smile, and the skin between his eyes is smooth. Eddie wants to reach out and trace it, wants to caress it in the hopes that it’ll stay smooth forever.

He’s so pretty. Golden light catching his skin in all the right ways, leaving him positively glowing with that look he gives Eddie. That look.

Eddie’s never felt so exposed. So vulnerable. Laid bare, ready for dissection and willing to be taken apart in the hopes of letting him find what he wants and take it. Rip it right out of his chest. Now that he has Steve’s hand on his skin in the lightest of touches that’s anything but fleeting, he knows he would let him take anything he wants. Knows he would be helpless to stop him.

Helpless in the face of that gaze that trails down to his lips now, if only to follow his fingers.

“Steve,” Eddie breathes, barely moving his mouth at all around that single syllable.

Golden hazel eyes flit back to his, and they widen a little. Like suddenly it’s Steve who’s caught.

What are you doing? Eddie wants to ask. What are we doing? Don’t stop. Never stop.

But words are for moments lighter than this one. Words are not meant for a world that’s changing.

Maybe that is why Steve puts his hand on Eddie’s chin, tipping it up and turning his face toward him in a gesture so tender it’s almost possessive. Electricity shoots through Eddie again and the air between them is sizzling with it, sizzling because Steve is moving, shifting, dipping his head, his hand coming to rest on Eddie’s throat to keep him from moving away — except there is no force in his touch, and Eddie could still run.

He could. He should, maybe. Like last time.

But he is suspended in time, chained to the ground by the weight of Steve’s gaze and the hand on his throat, and his heart is beating so hard, so fast, that he is sure Steve can feel it. Imagines that those fingers move to find his pulse. Imagines that they find their home there, imagines that they hear the tales of stolen hearts and desires that leave his blood rushing.

Imagines that Steve falters a little, hovering just above Eddie. Dreams of it all, dreams that this is real and that he can have this, just for tonight. He nods, and it’s a tiny little thing, far from enough to ruin this moment or wake him from his dream.

But then Steve captures his lips with such care that Eddie snaps back into his body and realises that this is no dream. Steve is kissing him. Hovers above him with one arm resting in the grass above Eddie’s head, his other hand pulling Eddie’s face towards himself and being oh so gentle about it.

A whimper escapes him when this new reality settles inside his body, leaving him reeling and pulled towards a world of possibilities as those lips, those warm lips, rest so indulgently against his.

No longer chained, Eddie carefully lifts a hand to Steve’s head, because Steve can feel him there, too, and because he doesn’t want this to end. Because he needs to touch. All night, all week, all this time he has needed to touch. To cradle. To hold.

To keep.

Steve hums, and those lips pull into a smile before closing around Eddie’s bottom lip. The first touch of Steve’s tongue has jolts of electricity and arousal zinging through Eddie’s body again, lingering this time and making a home in his legs that begin to tingle with want.

Eddie opens his mouth, tilting his head a little to get a better angle, and is rewarded with the careful, addictive touch of Steve’s tongue against his. It makes Steve smile again, just for a second — but long enough to make Eddie’s heart jump.

He chases those lips when they pull back, capturing them with a little hum as he realises he comes more and more unchained, regaining feeling and control over his body, his mind, his scared little heart. Steve doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate, pushing Eddie’s head down into the grass again with an urgency that Eddie is beginning to understand matches the hunger he’s feeling.

The hunger that is reserved only for Steve. It leaves him breathless, leaves him with the sudden need to gasp for air, but then Steve’s tongue is in his mouth again and maybe he doesn’t need to breathe ever again.

He loses himself in the wet slide of their tongues that feels so sensual it’s almost obscene, and all he can do is tangle his fingers in Steve’s hair and keep him right where he is while Eddie himself lies boneless, all the blood rushing down, down, down. Every nip of Steve’s teeth as he devours Eddie so entirely and yet so innocently, so sweetly, so carefully, and every time he sucks on his lips or his tongue results in another wave of intense arousal. And Eddie is stuck in the riptide of it.

It doesn’t take long for the first moan to break the silence, a gasped little thing, almost like an afterthought, and he’s not sure if that was him or Steve; but he doesn’t really care either way, because he’s so hard, he feels like he can come from just Steve sucking on his tongue alone.

And isn’t that an enticing thought.

“Steve,” he whispers, not entirely sure what he’s going to say, or if that’s really all he needs to say. All that’s left to say. Steve, Steve, Steve.

The only response he gets is a breathy little, “Fuck,” and it sounds like a revelation. Like an epiphany. And Eddie wants to hear it again, wants to swallow all the little noises and murmurs and everything Steve will give him.

“You’re so—“ Steve begins, interrupting himself with another deep, hungry kiss. “Fuck. You’re…”

“Yeah?” Eddie counters, breaking the kiss by pulling on Steve’s hair a little. “I’m what?”

Steve hesitates, panting breaths dancing over Eddie’s skin and he smells so fucking good. Eddie wants to lick the aftershave and perfume and sweat off his neck and keep the taste on his tongue for days. Dark, blown eyes wander over his face, and the hand that was on his throat comes up to rest on his cheek again in a gesture so gentle that it almost gives him whiplash. The hunger is gone — or, not gone, but unimportant now.

Steve smiles, hazy but genuine and so, so sweet, eyes zeroing in on Eddie’s no doubt swollen lips.

“Been wanting to do that forever.”

Eddie’s heart jumps, falters, falls. Just a little. Just the rest of the way. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Wanna kiss you forever.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie breathes, voice barely there because his breath has well and truly been taken away, and this moment feels so fragile. So easily broken by quick movements or thoughts that are just a little too loud, just a little too soon. “‘M not gonna stop you.”

Steve’s eyes snap back to his, and there’s something in there that not even the weed could ease away. “Yeah?”

Eddie nods, frowning a little, wondering what makes him so unsure.

“Cool,” Steve says, and it’s almost nonchalant and definitely charming in that way he always is. Makes Eddie laugh a little, his other hand coming up to wipe a strand hair out of his eyes. “So…” He trails off.

“Hmm?”

“Wanna stay here? Or go inside, or…”

And then it’s not arousal that overcomes him but worry. And guilt. And a bit of fear, because that’s not what this is for him. Not like this. Not when they’re high, not for the first time.

He swallows, schooling his face to cooperate and not give it all away right now, not give away how helplessly gone he is for that boy and how he would do anything Steve wants, how he would take anything he can get and try to make it be enough. But instead of choosing the easy thing and betraying himself, he moves his hand from Steve’s hair to his cheek, melting at the way Steve leans into it, moving his face to press a kiss to Eddie’s palm.

“Steve,” he says, and his voice is shaky again. And small. So, so small. “That’s not what this is for me. I don’t… I wanna kiss you forever. And more. Much more. But not… I don’t—“

“Not while we’re high? Inebriated?” He says the word with a chuckle, referencing the way Robin will always use big words when she’s hammered. There’s a gentle sort of understanding on his face after the chuckle, though, and Eddie melts a little again. “Wanna do it right, hmm? Wanna treat me right and make sure I won’t regret it, angel?”

Eddie whimpers at the sudden use of that nickname, because he’s not, but he does. He didn’t realise until Steve said it how scared he was — is — that Steve will regret this. The kiss. And anything that might follow.

Not trusting his words right now, he can only nod, wondering if his eyes are as blown as Steve’s are. If Steve thinks he’s pretty, too.

“God, you’re unreal,” Steve whispers, coming down again to press a kiss to Eddie’s forehead, brushing them down to the tip of his nose. He leans into those kisses, tips his chin up to chase it, but Steve pulls away again, his thumb tracing the pout he leaves behind on Eddie’s lips.

“You’re one to talk,” Eddie grumbles, watching the delight on Steve’s face and deciding that he’s addicted now. Fuck the weed, fuck everything else. Steve can get him just as high.

Along with that thought, reality works its tendrils into Eddie’s consciousness again, and he looks around the backyard around them — but there’s only him and Steve out here on the blanket, framed as they are by the fairy lights.

“Hang on, where are the others?”

Steve huffs, his face shifting into an expression of fond amusement and gentle annoyance. “Last time I checked, Robin and Argyle were raiding the fridge, Nancy was lying on the living room carpet, marvelling at how soft it is, and Jonathan was just kinda spaced out on the couch with a bowl of chips. Don’t think they’re gonna come out here again in the next half hour or so.”

“How convenient,” Eddie grins, wondering just how obvious the two of them had been all this time. Wondering, too, if it can really be that easy. If he can have this. If they can; after everything they went through.

“Hmm,” Steve hums, his body shifting so he’s half lying on top of Eddie now, positively vanishing any and all thoughts Eddie could have spared anyone else. He would worry about the hard-on he’s sporting, but it becomes obvious very quickly that Steve has the same predicament. It’s enticing, feeling him against his thigh like that, and Eddie has half a mind to do something about that, especially when Steve keeps shifting against him. “So. Do you wanna make out some more before we light the next baggie? It’s fine if not. We can just… I don’t know, cuddle or something.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, pulling on his hair a little bit to underline his deadpan. “What about I wanna kiss you forever was unclear?”

“Hey, I said that first,” Steve retorts, digging his fingers into Eddie’s sides, making Eddie squeal and squirm right into his arms. “I also kissed you first,” he continues, sounding so damn smug about it. Eddie’s never wanted to kiss him more. “So I’m winning.”

“Hmm, I don’t know about that,” Eddie murmurs, pulling Steve all the way on top of him, his hands finding his way to those magnificent thighs, so firm underneath his grip. “‘M feeling pretty lucky right now.”

“You think you’re so smooth,” Steve hums, dipping his head to hover just above his lips.

“Is it working?”

“Unfortunately.”

They’re both laughing when their lips meet again, but that doesn’t deter them from kissing and tasting and swallowing moans like they’ll find new purpose in each other. Like they’ve already found it.

Just like Steve’s hand finds his, weaving their fingers together and pressing him further into the grass. Eddie holds on tight, not ready to let him go anytime soon, and marvelling at how sensitive his hand has become.

There is no urgency in the way Steve slowly begins to move against him, grinding their crotches together in slow, sensual motion like waves of the ocean gently lapping at the shore. Eddie meets him right where they both need it most, not once breaking their kiss even when it becomes open-mouthed panting and moaning that the other is trying to chase and swallow and keep only for himself.

“You feel so good,” Steve rumbles, catching Eddie’s tongue between his teeth and pulling a high-pitched whimper from him. “So fucking good, Eddie.”

“Don’t stop, Stevie, fuck.” He’s panting, his legs tingling with want and need and a weightlessness he’s never known before. “I know I said— We can stop. We can stop, we can, but— fuck, I’m close.”

“Yeah?” Steve taunts, and oh, there’s purpose now in the the way he’s lifting his chest off Eddie, putting his weight behind the way he’s grinding into him. “You gonna come in your pants, baby? While the others are still inside? Means you’re gonna do this with me again later, right? Try again when we’re not high, hmm?”

“Yes,” Eddie rushes to say, working his fingers into Steve’s belt loops to keep him from stopping. “God, yes, I wanna—“

“I’ve got you,” Steve says, kissing the words right out of his brain, chasing his own pleasure, too. “God, you’re so pretty. So fuckin’ pretty, Eddie. Wanna come with me?”

“Uh-huh,” Eddie can only nod and moan around all the words he wants to say, all those cheesy fucking words that leave him all the more vulnerable for how true they are. The tingly feeling builds in his legs, climbing to his core, and he wonders for a split second if Steve can really make him come like this — worries that somehow it’s not enough and that he’ll ruin this, that he’ll fuck it up and make it awkward between them because he doesn’t actually have any idea how his body works when someone else is taking the reins.

But then Steve kisses him like that again, sucking his tongue into his mouth, holding his hand and groaning when Eddie moves in just the right way, and the sizzling pleasure finally finds its release.

Eddie comes with a broken groan that Steve swallows greedily, panting into his mouth as, shortly after, his hips begin to stutter in their movements and he follows Eddie off the brink of this beautiful madness. Steve was always beautiful, there’s no question about that. But like this, face slack, kiss-swollen and spit-slick lips open around a silent moan as he grinds his trapped cock against Eddie’s, wrecked with aftershocks as his orgasm washes over him? He’s a fucking revelation that makes Eddie’s eyes roll into the back of his skull, over sensitive as he is and yet so helpless against Steve’s aborted little motions.

Getting high on weed doesn’t compare to getting high on Steve. It’s a high Eddie wants to chase forever, and he starts by wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him down onto his chest again, just to hold him. Steve purrs as Eddie’s hand finds its way into his hair, combing it away from the sweaty skin it sticks to. He cages him with his legs, too, tingly as they remain on either side of Steve’s body.

It’s stupid, maybe, and a bit much, but he wants to keep Steve like this for a little longer. Putty in his hands, his weight on top of him grounding him after that high, and allowing them both to come down slowly.

“Man,” Steve says after a while, just letting that word hang in the air as he regains conscious thought.

Eddie hums, prompting him to say what’s on his mind even though he’s scared he won’t like what he’s about to hear. Still, it’s only fair to let Steve say what he wants.

“I like you so much.”

Eddie holds his breath as he waits for the but. For the regret. But none follows. That’s really all Steve’s saying; and soon Eddie can’t fight the wave of giddiness that overcomes him.

He hugs Steve a little tighter, not entirely ready yet to look him in the eyes and face this new reality they’ve kind of just created, needing to be a little scared for just a bit longer. But still he laughs, because scared is no longer all he’s feeling. There’s so much more now. So much more.

“I like you so much right back.”

Now it’s Steve who hums, shifting to lift his head and look at Eddie, but Eddie closes his eyes before Steve can catch them.

“Said it first again.” A hand lands on his cheek again, just above the ugly scars that Steve doesn’t seem afraid to touch. “So I win.”

And Eddie is looking now. Dares. If only to drive his point home when he says, “God, you’re so fucking lame.”

“Is it working?” Steve grins, and Eddie never stood a fucking chance.

“Unfortunately.”

@izzy2210 here you go darling hehehe 🤍

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #the spicy six get high together #spicy six #yearning hours #yearning hours but make it smut #steddie smut #i like this one so much #high yearning makeout fic #this takes so many turns and i blame the flu for it actually #tone consistency?? don't know her #dio words

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jflemings · 24 days

Text

— loose lips sink ships

pairing: jessie fleming x reader part 2

synopsis: after portland play seattle, janine accidentally tells you that jessie had been with her ex olivia for most of college after you’d been told that they only dated for a couple of months.

warnings: a lil angst, trust issues (kinda)

a/n: for the sake of the fic, olivia athens is jessie’s ex. took inspo from an ask i got a lil while back

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍁 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

you were looking to break the deadlock when it happened.

one minute the ball was leaving your feet and the next you were on the ground clutching your nose as blood pooled in your hand. you’d gotten an elbow to the nose as you ran up the wing, looking to find sophia who wasn’t too far in front of you.

the tackle had been clean for the most part. it wasn’t mistimed, or malicious, the midfielder had just thrown her elbow back into face after you’d passed it. her foot had hooked around your left ankle as she’d tried to get in front of you and you’d grabbed the back of her jersey. it had been a complete accident. nevertheless, it ended with the two of you on your respective benches, you nursing a hopefully not broken nose and her a badly twisted ankle.

jessie was by your side in an instant when you fell to your knees and leant over into a foetal position, one hand on your shoulder whilst the other tried to gently grasp your hand away from your face. the look of worry in her eyes was enough for you to know that it was bad, or at least that it looked like it was. she’d grimaced when she saw all the blood and soph had gasped from where she was standing behind your girlfriend.

now you hold an ice pack to your nose as you watch both teams shake hands and come off the pitch. portland had won and while you assumed that some form of celebration was in order, you knew that you weren’t going to go.

“swollen face really suits you” janine quips as she walks over to you “she got you good”

you roll your eyes and pull the ice pack off your face briefly “not good enough to break it, thank god” you say stuffily “we got the three points and i’m walking away not needing surgery so i’d say that’s a pretty successful day in the office”

the older canadian nods “i take it you’re not coming out with us?”

“unless you want me to walk around with a cold compress on my face the whole time, no” you deadpan “it’s not a very attractive look”

“i don’t think jessie would mind” she muses with a playful smirk “she doesn’t care what you look like”

“that makes one of us”

janine rolls her eyes and sits beside you, tapping your knee affectionately “kinda funny that jessie’s ex is the one that elbowed you” she says as she half laughs.

you furrow your brows and have the sudden realisation that you don’t actually know where jessie is since she hadn’t come over to you after the final whistle. you scan the area, craning your neck to try to get a better look when you spot her in a sea of deep blue. you spot her easily in portland red and expect her to be talking to jordyn or quinn, but instead find her chatting with olivia athens.

she’s standing over her as olivia sits on the bench. jessie’s hand sits delicately on her shoulder as the two of them talk and laugh in their own little bubble.

the sight of it makes you feel weird.

you tilt your head in confusion “she dated athens?” you question.

“yeah, for most of college. you didn’t know?”

you while your head around to janine, pulling the ice off your face to reveal your swollen nose. she grimaces at the sight before seeing your shocked expression.

“most of college? what does that mean?”

“…that they dated for two and a half years before she moved to london” she answers slowly “you seriously didn’t know?”

“no, i knew that she dated someone in college for a couple of months. not that she dated someone for two and a half years!” you huff

realisation dawns on janine rapidly, her face morphing from confusion to guilt as she thinks over what she’s just said to you. she punches her mouth “jess told you they were only together for a couple of months?”

“and that they’d broken up way before she moved to chelsea”

the canadian suddenly can’t look you in the eye. she attempts to divert her attention elsewhere, trying to find a way out of this conversation before you smack her on the leg.

“janine” you say sternly.

she relents with a sigh “they broke up because of the distance. they both thought it would be better if they split because olivia was going to be playing in the states and they didn’t want— where are you going!?” she cuts herself off abruptly as you stand and make your way towards the tunnel.

“shower” you say shortly, not daring to look at jessie as you pass her on your way.

you staunch into change rooms and grab your shower bag and your clothes before making your way to the showers. everyone was still outside mingling but you knew it wouldn’t be long before your teammates started to trickle in so you took the opportunity as it presented itself and basked in the quiet.

you immediately turn on the hot water and let it steam slightly before ridding yourself of your soiled kit, stepping in and relaxing once you feel the water run down your back. you go through your shower routine almost dazed, the thought of jessie purposefully lying to you lingering in the back of your mind.

when jessie made the move to chelsea you were playing at manchester city with janine. she had insisted that the two of you meet and quickly introduced you to the younger canadian at a small get together at her place.

jessie had made an immediate impression on you. she was a little awkward, yes, but once the two of you got talking you quickly realised that she was incredibly smart and funny. the pair of you spent the whole night chatting and getting to know eachother before exchanging numbers with the promise of meeting up without janine.

a friendship quickly blossomed and you found yourself harbouring secret romantic feelings for the canadian. you kept them under wraps relatively well until janine and lauren hemp spotted you smiling at your phone a little too wide, leaving them to all but squeeze the information out of you. janine promised to keep your secret and to not do any meddling on the condition that you at least tried to make a move.

you, of course, had protested immediately until she started listing off reasons why it was a good idea, accidentally letting it slip that your feelings weren’t one sided in her rushed rant. you did what she wanted and asked jessie out with no mention of the fact that her best friend had been the one to out her secret.

when the topic of past relationships came up jessie had explicitly said that she had dated one person through college and that it had only been for a couple of months, claiming that the two of them really were just better as friends. she told you that they had dated in the beginning of her second last year, that it wasn’t anything serious, and that they had broken up long before chelsea came knocking.

your relationship grew and eventually you decided that it was time to leave the wsl. portland had made each of you an offer that you couldn’t refuse, so the two of you packed up your lives in london and crossed the pond.

replaying that conversation in your head feels like a slap in the face. jessie, to your knowledge, had never lied to you or withheld the truth in anyway, so to find out that she hadn’t been completely honest with you in the very beginning of your relationship had you running hot.

the two of you weren’t a secret in the footballing world, but you knew that it wasn’t something that was well known. the two of you had chosen to let fans speculate about the nature of your relationship whilst being honest with those around you, it was just easier that way.

you didn’t know if olivia knew you were together, or if she knew that jessie was even in a relationship. you didn’t know if they kept in contact, if they still knew eachother well, or if jessie had even thought about her before she clocked you in the nose.

you just didn’t know.

voices interrupt your train of thought and you quickly turn off the shower and grab a towel, drying yourself off and getting changed in hopes that your teammates will be too distracted with themselves to notice you slipping out. as you go to leave to go back to your cubby, you catch janine’s guilty eye. she smiles apologetically at you before turning to get in her own shower, leaving you to what you were doing.

jessie pretty much runs into you on the way to her shower, steadying the two of you as your shoulders collide. her hand squeezes your bicep as she smiles and looks at your nose.

“it’s not broken” you say “it looked worse than what it is”

your girlfriend breathes a relieved sigh “thank god for that” she says as she grabs your jaw gently, moving your head so she can look at your whole face properly “you’re pretty swollen” she observes.

you take your face out of her hand “yeah. i just need to ice it on and off and take it easy and i’ll be fine” you say almost emotionless “nothing to worry about”

the canadian tilts her head and squints her eyes, studying you. even with your nose she didn’t expect you to be so down, your stoic attitude catching her a bit off guard. even if you got injured you were still known to at least attempt to crack a smile if it wasn’t serious. she recalls a time when you had sprained your knee during a city vs chelsea match; you were obviously distraught and in pain when you went down but by the time the game was over you were managing to smile and just be grateful that you hadn’t done your ACL.

your girlfriend squints “are you okay?”

“aside from the nose? yeah, fine.” you say as you pass her.

jessie’s quick to grab your hand and pull you back, her voice minimising to a whisper “y/n” she says

“i’m fine jessie” you falsely assure as you take your hand back “just tired”

she lets you go without much protest, her eyes following you until you’re out of her sight. her mouth flattens into a line and she shakes her head, gripping her jeans and t-shirt tightly as she makes her way to the shower.

janine watches the interaction from across the room and feels the overwhelming urge to go after you, or to at least explain to jessie, but she knows that she’s run her mouth enough for one day.

you walk into your shared apartment and immediately drop your things onto the kitchen bench whilst you raid your freeze for a bag of frozen peas. jessie trails behind cautiously. the car ride had been pretty much silent despite her best efforts to make conversation, leaving her feeling like there was something else that was wrong with you.

she watches you place the peas on your face and close your eyes with a sigh. she’s unsure how to bring up the obvious tension between the two of you, especially since your patience seems to be wearing thin already. she doesn’t like to fight with you but she also doesn’t like feeling the need to walk on eggshells.

she leans her forearms on the kitchen counter “babe” she says into the silence “what’s up? you’ve been frosty since after the game”

“i got an elbow to the face jess” you sass “i’d say that’s a reason to be frosty”

jessie rolls her eyes “that’s not what i meant”

you wave her off quickly and release a deep breath in an attempt to rid yourself of some of the tension “i’m tired and i’m sore, jess, that’s all. seriously”

“okay…” she says slowly “i was going to go out with the team but—”

“no, go” you cut her off as you place the bag of frozen vegetables on the bench “have fun, i’ll be fine”

she stands up straight and runs her hand over the back of her neck “are you sure? because if you don’t want me to i won’t”

the truth was that you kind of didn’t want her to go. you knew that while jordyn and quinn would be there, olivia probably would be too. you heard a few of your teammates say that some of the seattle girls were going to join your team for drinks, and you weren’t too keen on having your girlfriend’s ex hanging around without you there.

it was stupid. really, it was. jessie adored you and you trusted her immensely, but knowing that she had told you something that wasn’t true in the beginning of your relationship had planted small seeds of doubt. you were left wondering what else she could’ve possibly lied to you about, and how it would affect your relationship if any of it was made known to you now.

your need to keep the peace overrides the need to find out the truth. “i’m sure. tell jords and quinny that i say hi” you say softly, walking around the bench and placing a soft hand to her cheek.

she leans into you and kisses the palm of your hand before you walk to your living room and turning on the tv, hoping to find something to take your mind off of everything.

jessie, on the other hand, goes straight to your bedroom to start to get ready. you can hear your wardrobe doors and drawers open and close as she looks for what she wants to wear before she walks out and past you to go to your laundry dressed in just a plain shirt, boxes and socks “have you seen my light wash jeans, babe?”

“which ones, you’ve got a million pairs” you ask as you flick through your streaming services.

jessie goes through dirty and clean laundry as she answers you loudly “the more loose fitted ones. i wore them last week to dinner with sinc and janine”

“bottom left drawer under your dark blue ones”

she’s quick to rush back into your bedroom and grab them, stumbling back into the hallway as she puts one leg on. you watch her struggle before she does up her fly and comes back over to you, kissing your cheek firmly “sam and soph are coming to get me, i won’t be home late and i’ll call a cab if i need to” she says into your skin, kissing you again.

you shake your head “i can come get you”

she brushes your hair back “no, it’s okay. you just try to get that swelling to go down. i promise i’ll only be a few hours”

all you can do is nod as you watch her grab her things and walk out the door, the pit of doubt only growing in your stomach as she shuts it behind her.

#jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming fic #woso #woso x reader #woso fic #woso imagine #jflemings writes #jflemings woso

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wileys-russo · 8 months

Text

dancing the line, what are we? II g.clinton x reader

she's such a cutie, request here dancing the line, what are we? II g.clinton x reader

you tried to hide the happy smile on your face as you noticed grace walk into the change rooms for training, the dirty blonde catching your eye and sending you a beaming grin as she sat down at her locker to change.

"who you eyeballing?" you jumped in surprise as mary dropped down beside you with narrowed eyes. "no one, creeper keeper." you chuckled, attention shifting down to your feet as you laced up your boots. "mmm i know you're hiding something from me, and mark my words child i will find out what it is!" mary warned as you rolled your eyes.

"sorry to disappoint you mum, but there's nothing going on in my life you don't already know far too many details about." you patted the older girls shoulder who had taken you under her wing the moment you made the senior team, mary only scoffing at your choice of words.

"excuse me what have i told you? i am your cool older sister, not your mum! honestly the cheek of you." mary pulled you into a headlock as you whined and tried to pull away, the keeper forecefully dragging you away for training not letting you out of her tight hold.

but your annoyed frown melted away as you again caught grace's eye, the girl glancing up from where her own head was ducked down lacing up her boots, pulling a stupid face at you making you grin before mary yanked you out of the room.

out on the pitch now mary finally let you go, called over to begin training with the other keepers as you lingered around waiting for the rest of the girls to join you being one of the first outside, starting to stretch before warm ups at marcs orders.

"good mornin gorgeous." you smiled as grace appeared beside you, mumbling the last word quietly so only you would hear as the two of you exchanged a soft smile, continuing with your stretches in a comfortable silence as the rest of the girls wandered out.

"gonna be a warm one today." you sighed, closing your eyes as the warmth of the morning sun bathed the training field. "always is when you're round babe." grace retorted quickly, enjoying the blush that crept up your neck at her words, her thick northern accent your favorite sound as you shoved her playfully.

"someone call the babysitters, the children are fighting!" ella teased as you and grace pushed and smacked one another around, you jumping onto her back and wrapping an arm around her neck as she struggled to throw you off.

"oi! stop messing about, the pair of you." alessia warned, smacking both of you on the back of the head sternly as the whistles blew for everyone to huddle up. "sorry mum!" grace mocked, the two of you slinging your arms around one another and marching off as alessia rolled her eyes, her and ella following.

"do'ya wanna be me partner?" grace asked hopefully, practically running over to you as you all returned from your break, pairing off for some passing drills. "nah." you shook your head with a blank face, faking as if you were going to turn away.

"oh how very funny, she's a comedian now ladies and gents." grace clapped sarcastically as you took a bow, the two of you grabbing a ball and wandering off so you were a little more out of earshot of the rest of the team.

"would you like to get dinner tonight? maybe see a film?" you asked the blonde after a few minutes of silence had passed. "is this your way of tryna ask us on a date?" the midfielder teased, but agreeing eagerly right afterwards.

"i think we're past dates clinton once someones tongues been in my mouth i like to think i no longer need to use that word, its just implied." you shot back, smiling victoriously as for once she was the one to blush, forever normally the more confidently cocky out of the pair of you.

"i'll pick ya up later babe, round six or so?" grace proposed, murmuring in your ear as she hugged you goodbye and you nodded, the embrace perhaps lasting a second or so too long as you felt eyes on you.

"we've got an audience." you warned quietly, catching a wary looking alessia and mary clearly speaking about the pair of you as they looked to one another and then back to the two of you.

"let them look, we're only huggin." her taller form vibrated against yours as she chuckled. "besides i'll save what i'd rather be doing with ya for later tonight if you're lucky." she pulled away with a wink, kissing your cheek and darting away before you could hit her for the cheeky comment.

"can i help you?" you bluntly questioned the two older girls whose eyes seemingly refused to leave you as you sat down to pack up your bag.

"don't know, can you?" mary retorted cryptically as you gave her a weird look, quickly stuffing away grace's training jacket you'd stole the other day which poked out the top of your kit bag, trying not to make it obvious you were hiding it.

"that was a...long hug." alessia hinted, leaning back and narrowing her bright blue eyes at you. "do you and tooney not hug enough? oh i'm so sorry lessi, you must be touch depraved." you leaned forward and patted her knee with mock sympathy, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"is that grace on your lockscreen?" the blonde striker questioned again, pointing to your phone as you rolled your eyes and tucked it under your leg. the picture in question was her holding you up as you took a photo in the mirror which was in the entry way of her home.

"none of your business russo." you quipped, the older girl huffing at the use of her last name. "anything you'd like to tell us kid?" mary questioned with a raised eyebrow as you paused to ponder, looking off thoughtfully in the distance.

"umm, you need a shower cause you smell like a wet dog and you need a crash mat taped to your ass since you fell on it so many times today?" you guessed, pointing first to mary and then to alessia.

grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder you sprinted out of the change rooms as they lunged for you, hearing their footsteps and angry shouts after you fade as you were known to be one of the quickest on the team, waving at them with a grin from your car.

"yeah thats right you little shit you better run!"

you tapped your phone screen as you heard a knock at your door, the time showing 5:41pm meaning grace was early.

she wasn't your girlfriend, but she was definitely more than your best friend. though neither of you had dared to even have that conversation with one another yet, much as it bore down on both your minds about what the two of you actually were.

you'd not grown up playing on the youth national teams, as much as you knew that was a huge goal for most professional footballers playing for your country wasn't something you'd ever really dreamt of, much to most peoples surprise.

you'd grown up in a football mad household, which had meant every single game you'd played was always over analysed, if it be by your older brothers or your dad you were always given some sort of harsh ribbing or yelled at for some silly mistake in the car ride home.

that pressure to be perfect, to play as best as you could and leave it all out on the pitch meant your relationship with football had become quite strained at one point, falling out of love with the game entirely for awhile.

but then you'd started at the manchester united academy, making your way up the ranks and slowly starting to adore it once more. but with that lingering pressure in the back of your mind, you'd always opted out of playing anything more than for club even once you made the senior womens team, however still endlessly proud of all your friends and teammates when they put on the kit for country.

with you and grace it all started off harmlessly enough. when she had signed on with united in the summer you were more than thrilled, finally having someone your own age to mess about with, growing tired of all the relentless teasing that came with being the baby of the team.

the two of you had clicked right away, paired up for drills her first training and both talking one anothers ears off you found you had a lot more in common than you'd anticipated beyond just your shared age.

which lead to you eagerly inviting her over for a movie night when you discovered your shared passion for 'childrens' movies, and the fact she had never seen cars which to you was basically committing a crime.

from then on the two of you developed a routine of sorts.

movie nights on wednesdays, going out for breakfast together on sundays, cooking dinner together on mondays, carpooling together to training and grabbing coffee, seated together on the busses to away games making shared playlists or binging whatever show you were hooked on.

then one night curled into one another clutching your stomachs with laughter at some dumb comedy on the tv you were half paying attention to, it happened.

you'd both shared a look as you'd come down from your laughter, not anything uncommon, but unlike any of the others this was the look.

and in that look you suddenly realized the feelings you had for your best friend grew beyond that of being friendly, and you found yourself lifting your chin up a little, hesitating slightly unsure if you were misreading anything.

thankfully you weren't, and so when grace moved to clear that few centimetres left between you, soft lips pressed finally against yours as she'd been wondering about for awhile now, the course of your relationship was altered.

from then on your shared routine shifted slightly. wednesday movie nights were still the same but now were accompanied by lazy makeout sessions as you grew more and more comfortable becoming intimate with one another.

lovesick giggles would fill the air as you mumbled against one anothers lips the most stupid of comments as you cooked dinners together on a monday. somehow still maintaining whatever conversation you were having prior to one of you making a move to commence an onslaught of soft kisses in between each word.

you'd been out together on a few dates but normally preferred the cozy comforts of one anothers homes and your usual routine, falling into step with one anothers habits and personal practices. though either of you were yet to spend the night together at one of your houses.

grace learned you'd often go to the local markets on a saturday, usually accompanied by some of your team mates it was no issue she tag along, but as she noticed you'd buy the same few things each week she learned to map out your usual route.

so when it was just the two of you she would take your hand, interlocking your fingers with hers and guiding you both around, knowing which stalls you'd want to stop at and sometimes darting ahead to purchase you something before you had the chance.

though most times one or two of your teammates would come with and you'd adapt, no longer holding hands but still exchanging knowing looks or flirty little comments in one anothers ears when you had a fleeting moment alone. locking pinkies under the table and playing footsies with hidden grins of glee when you'd all sit down for lunch together afterwards.

you'd learnt giving gifts was one of grace's love languages, little trinkets which evidenced that littered your home like the small jar full of sea shells she'd brought back with her after going away with her parents for the weekend to the seaside.

presenting them to you with a toothy grin and a story of how she'd made sure to hand select only the most beautiful of shells for the most beautiful of girls you'd smacked her for the cheesy comment but still rewarded her with a soft kiss and a thank you, her heart soaring as you did.

given that quality time was one of your own love languages you treasured the time the two of you got to spend together like your movie nights, dinners and little market dates. you could honestly spend every day with the taller girl and not grow bored, the two of you seemingly never running out of things to talk about.

but despite all of that neither one of you had actually come forward and asked what the two of you were, not quite dating but not quite friends you'd danced around the line of making it more or less.

it had seemed that one kiss had seamlessly shifted your already shared routine into one much more intimate, domestic and cozy, but both terrified of actually verbalizing that you'd not dared not to speak about it with one another.

leaving your straighter on to warm up you ran to the door as she knocked again. "hi! i'm not ready yet but technically you're early." you rushed out, stepping aside to let her in with a smile.

"dunno why you bother with all this crap, ya always look beautiful anyway." grace smiled back, gesturing to your half finished makeup as you hit her shoulder lightly.

"i see that eyeliner and concealer gracie, hypocrite." you teased, squishing her cheeks in your hand making her roll her eyes playfully and smack your hand away. "do you want a drink or anything?" you offered as she followed you to the kitchen.

"i'll take a tall glass of you? or well a short one maybe." you turned and her body melted into yours, your back just digging into the edge of the counter as she looked down at you with a pearly white grin, hands gently gripping your waist.

"always with the height jokes, get some new material for your stand up show woman really!" you sighed with a shake of your head. "i'll wear heels and we'll see eye to eye." you challenged as she only laughed.

"no ya won't." "no i won't, i hate heels and i'll be wearing trainers." you grinned, arms coming to wrap around her neck as the two of you just stood in silence for a moment, both with that same look of lovesick pining in your eyes as she leaned down to kiss you.

"oh shit i left my straighter on!" you remembered with wide eyes, pushing her off before she could and running to your room as the sound of her laughter followed.

"would forget ya head if it weren't attached to your body." grace tutted, laying down on your bed as you continued to get ready, the two of you chatting about the upcoming game against leicester city on the weekend.

"oh what film did we wanna see?" grace remembered, pushing her hips up to grab her phone from her back pocket, googling what your options were. after she'd listed them off you hummed and suggested two, telling her to make the final decision.

"why! i hate it." the midfielder groaned, head thumping back against your pillows as you finished your hair, tying half of it up into a loose bun as the rest cascaded down your bed, nodding in satisfaction at your appearance.

"cause i picked where we're goin for dinner. so you choose the film!" you smiled, poking her nose as you rummaged around in your bedside table looking for your favorite perfume. "here." grace reached over and grabbed it from the other side of the bed, holding it up.

though as you smiled gratefully and reached for it she moved it out of your grasp. "think i deserve a proper thanks." she grinned cheekily, tapping her lips with her free hand, still holding your perfume captive in the other.

"such a child." you teased, ducking down and pressing your lips to hers a few times sweetly, stealing your perfume before things went any further. "scuse you babe i'm three months older!" grace scoffed, pulling herself to sit up.

"so you never cease to remind me." you tutted in amusement, arms moving to hug her as you looked up with an adoring smile and her hands gently cupped your cheeks. "ya look gorgeous." grace complimented sweetly, ducking her head and kissing you again, though one hand moving to the back of your neck this time making sure it lasted a little longer.

pulling away once air became an issue, both your cheeks flushed rosy pink you pecked her lips a few more times before you mumbled the two of you would be late, interlocking fingers and heading out to her car.

"oi! is that..." alessia whined through a mouthful of ice cream as mary punched her arm to gain her attention, halting suddenly at the older girls words. "mary!" the blonde scolded, punching her back but following where her finger was pointing.

"sneaky sneaky children." ella whistled with a somewhat proud grin, the three of them spotting you and grace tucked up together in the back of the italian restaurant looking awfully cozy.

"you don't think..." alessia trailed off, looking from mary to ella and back to the two of you again with a raised eyebrow. "what? this surprises you? nah less come on!" ella laughed, though she stopped once she realised it seemed she was the only one not shocked.

"youse two are some of the closest people to them! how did ya not catch on they're seeing one another? thick!" ella smacked both girls with a shake of her head. "how did you know before we did tooney?" mary scoffed, throwing away her now empty cup and spoon.

"cause i've got eyes! you don't see the way they look at each other? stupid little shit eating grins, always hanging out together, always whispering about something, always hugging or touching or holding hands thinking they're being subtle about it." ella rolled her eyes at the secret which was apparently not a secret, her and maya having made a bet from the very first week grace signed on that the two of you would wind up dating.

a bet which it now looked like ella would win and be twenty pound richer because of it.

"oh my god surely they're not about to-" marys eyes widened. "oh but they are." ella nodded knowingly. "how did we not notice?" alessia huffed, nostrils flaring in annoyance at their ignorance.

"lady and the tramp, how disgustingly cliche." ella tutted as you and grace shared a piece of pasta, pecking lips at the end and grinning at one another stupidly.

"i'm just going to the toilet." you spoke, grace pulling a face of mock disgust as you shoved her with a roll of your eyes, the taller girl tugging on the back of your dress and leaning up to kiss you goodbye.

"clingy." you teased, dodging her hands which reached out to pinch you, ducking away to use the bathroom.

finishing up you made sure grace's attention was on her phone as you snuck past the table and to the front to pay, thanking the waiter with a smile as he handed you the receipt.

though that smile was completely wiped off your face as a strange feeling you were being watched settled over you, goosebumps prickling at your arms as you looked around, and thats when you spotted them.

mary shook her head with a unreadably firm stare, ella gave you a proud grin and a thumbs up and alessia quite frankly looked like she wanted to murder you, the three of them all outside on the street by the door clearly awaiting the two of you to leave before they pounced.

hastily turning around you hurried back to the table, dropping down beside grace who scoffed at the docket in your hand. "what'd ya do that for!" she groaned, having wanted to pay for the two of you.

"we have much bigger problems right now." you warned, grabbing her chin and turning her head to lock eyes with the three older girls at the front window as they widened in fear.

"well fuck." "fuck indeed. what do we do? sneak out the back?" "nah they know we're here now. but i don't really fancy a tellin off tonight, do you?" with that she gave you a grin, fear melted away as you tilted your head curiously and she filled you in on her plan.

again thanking the waiter you both exited the resteraunt, hand in hand and shrinking slightly under the unwavering glares of the older girls standing across from you.

"evenin girls." grace grinned, squeezing your hand and making a point to bring it up to her mouth placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles. "whats all this then?" alessia questioned, narrowing her eyes. "just two best mates gone for a feed." grace answered with a sly smile.

"bullshit. you two are in some serious trouble." mary warned sternly, alessia smacking ella who was pulling faces and still giving the two of you a proud thumbs up.

"serious trouble." alessia echoed marys words, fixing you both with a glare as grace squeezed your hand twice like you'd planned. "ah thats a shame. look we'd love to stay and chat girls but-" with that the two of you turned and sprinted off, chased quickly by both alessia and mary as ella stayed behind to cheer you both on, finding endless amusement in the situation.

"c'mere." rounding a corner grace tugged you into her body, ducking the two of you down and out of sight behind a large bin. "where the fuck did they go!" you heard mary huff angrily, trying to catch her breath.

"you two little shits can hide for now but you can't hide forever! we'll see you at training tomorrow." alessia yelled out menacingly, both you and grace holding a hand over one anothers mouths and waiting until you were certain that they'd left.

"where the fuck did they go!" you mocked mary. "we'll see you at training tomorrow." grace mimicked alessia as the two of you collapsed to the ground laughing, clutching at your stomachs. "guess the secrets out." you smiled, head resting against the wall behind your head as you caught your breath.

a comfortable silence fell between the two of you, graces eyes roaming your face with a tender smile, a surge of emotions flooding her body at the thought of the entire team soon knowing you were...well, what exactly?

"will ya be me girlfriend?" the midfielder blurted out suddenly, face flushing bright red at its abrupt nature. "nah." you declined before your face broke out into a grin and you launched at her. "of course." you mumbled against her lips, pressing a searing kiss to them and sending the older girls head into a spin.

"could have asked me somewhere a bit more romantic than on a dirty sidewalk behind a bin though babe."

“we were runnin for our lives together, what’s more romantic than that?”

“good mornin girlfriend!” grace sang out happily as you jumped into her car to go to training, taken aback by the withering glare you sent her way as a greeting.

“whats wrong?” she questioned with a frown as you huffed and moved your hair off your shoulder, clearly showing off the two bright red and purple hickies littering your neck.

“oh.”

“oh!” you mocked, sinking into the chair with a groan, burying your face in your hands. “sorry?” grace smiled sheepishly, wincing at the murderous look you gave her and quickly focusing her attention on the road as she reversed out of your driveway.

after the high of finally making things official last night you’d both opted to ditch the movies in favour of going back to your place to watch one together instead.

however you hardly spent more than five minutes watching whatever grace had put on, still riding out the high of being girlfriends you’d quickly moved to makeout and well, things escalated slightly from there.

it was the first time grace had ever left any sort of mark on you, feeling a brand new sense of possessiveness as she’d hovered over you on the lounge, her face pressed into your neck only encouraged by the noises she’d coaxed out of your mouth, exploring the sensitive area with her lips, then with her tongue, then her teeth.

and well, here you were.

“they’re really not that noticeable babe.” grace tried to assure you, taking your hand as you walked into the training centre and headed for the change rooms.

“plus they’ll be too busy yellin at us for runnin away anyway!”

sure enough the moment the two of you entered the change rooms you were met with an onslaught of teasing which you both brushed off, sitting down together to put your boots on.

though no sooner had you sat down did two shadows loom over you both, alessia and mary. they shared a look and a nod before wordlessly grabbing the two of you, alessia tugging you away by the collar of your training top as mary did the same with grace.

"less! come on it was a bit of fun." you whined as she pulled you forcefully out of the change rooms and down the hall, grace and mary dissapearing out around the corner down the opposite end.

"how long?" the older girl sat you down on a bench, folding her arms over her chest and fixing you with a glare. "since last night." you answered honestly, the blonde raising an eyebrow clearly expecting a different answer.

"honestly!" you shrugged. "i am not in the mood for games." alessia warned sternly causing you to let out a sigh. "we've been...hanging out for about a month now? but she only asked me to be her girlfriend last night, truthfully." you promised with a nod.

"if you hurt her...i will hurt you, and i will make sure it is the last time you ever speak to her. yeah?" alessia warned seriously, leaning down closer to you as you nodded repeatedly.

"i wouldn't, i promise."

"okay. well now thats all out of the way!" you almost had whiplash as the taller girl pulled you up into a tight bear hug. "our little babies all coupled up, so cute." she pinched your cheeks harshly as you grunted and pushed her off.

"why didn't you tell us though! that was the most hurtful part of all." alessia slung an arm over your shoulder with a shake of her head, pulling you into her side as the two of you walked back toward the changing room.

"it wasn't anyones business, it still isn't!" you rolled your eyes, spotting grace and mary returning in a similar position to you as all four of you walked back into the mostly empty changing room.

"you get a shovel talk too then?" grace chuckled, the two of you sitting back down to finish putting your shoes on. "if you hurt her i will hurt you, and i will make sure it is the last time you ever speak to her." you mocked alessia.

"i got; if you harm a single little hair on her head i will not hesitate to break both your legs, you treat her with respect or i make you dissapear." grace did her best to mock mary, but her northern accent made it near impossible as you let out a small laugh.

"idiots, the pair of them." you whispered to her, grace humming in agreement and kissing your cheek causing them to warm up with a slight blush as you kissed hers back.

"ugh no kissing before at least ten in the morning please." alessia fake gagged as the four of you stood to head toward the pitch.

"yeah lets not forget you're both children, our little babies." mary added on with a coo, grace grabbing you suddenly and pulling you into a proper kiss as loud retches echoed around the change room and you smiled against her lips before pulling away.

"oi excuse me what are these? did you do this to her gracie?!" mary grabbed you suddenly, moving your hair out of the way and pointing accusingly at the hickies then back to your girlfriend. "no!" grace scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"you got them from someone else!?" alessia glowered, balling her fists as you shook your head. "of course not!" you shot grace a glare as she sent you a wink, taking your hand and tugging you out of marys grip.

"better get used to it you two, now she's me girlfriend we can do whatever we want."

#grace clinton #woso x reader #woso #grace clinton x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt

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seulrinnie-rinrin · 17 days

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Elevator

SUMMARY | You and Wooyoung are stuck in the elevator with nothing to do but talk. But when you are awfully aware of how close he is, you can’t help but act on your urges. PAIRING | Wooyoung/Reader GENRE | non-idol!Wooyoung, smut with no plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), fingering, oral, vaginal sex, elevator sex RATING | Mature LENGTH | 2593 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | On the shorter side but still smutty~

"Nononono. This can't be happening." You ran a hand through your hair, sliding down the walls of the elevator as it stopped moving. The lights were out and you could barely make out the figure of the man who stood next to you.

Of all days to get a power outage!

"Freaking out like that isn't going to make things better." The man muttered, his voice low and calm. "Breathe deep. Count to ten. Do something productive. Shit. I forgot what to do when things go bad."

He added, not sounding at all sincere.

You didn't need him to tell you to breathe; you'd been doing so since the lights went out in the first place. Your heart was pounding and the sweat on your palms made them slippery. The whole situation was just freaking bizarre and the adrenaline pumping through your body wasn't helping either.

You knew you had a bad feeling when you woke up this morning as you struggled to get out of bed. All your work clothes were in the laundry hamper, a lightbulb went out in your bathroom while you showered, you ran out of coffee and there was nothing left to eat for breakfast besides half an apple that had turned brown overnight.

On top of all that, the bathroom mirror showed that the faint lines around your eyes were more pronounced than usual.

And now you're stuck in the company's elevator with that very attractive employee in your department, one who is probably pissed off that he can't find anything to do while trapped here too.

"I knew I should have called in today." You muttered, burying your face in your hands. "This day couldn't possibly get any worse."

"How worse could it be?" The man asked, looking slightly annoyed but also amused by the sight of you bawling your eyes out on the elevator floor. He took a few steps forward before stopping again, taking another deep breath. "It's just a power outage after all. It happens every now and then."

"True enough." You agreed, raising your head to look up at him. "I just can't believe I'm stuck here with you."

"What's wrong with being stuck in an elevator with me?" He laughed.

"Not funny, Wooyoung." You frowned. "God, I can already hear all the other ladies in our department talking shit about me. Why do I always get myself into these situations? Like I haven't got enough problems as it is."

"I mean there's one way we can deter the shit talking." He smirked, gesturing at himself suggestively.

You groaned and shook your head. You really needed to get out of here soon or else your colleague was going to try to make a move on you and then you'll be really fucked. Not that you weren't interested in the idea, but you've heard some horror stories from friends who hooked up with co-workers and most of them ended badly.

You glanced around nervously, wondering how long the power outage would last and how long you'd be stuck in this elevator. You wondered if they'd think of any contingency plan if they realized how much time had passed since the lights went out. Maybe they'd sent maintenance to fix it? Hopefully someone will come soon.

"What are you thinking about, Y/N?" Wooyoung asked, sinking to the floor next to you. His legs crossed and his arms resting casually on his knees. "Having second thoughts about making a move on me?"

"I am not trying to make a move on you, no matter how attractive you may be." You mumbled. "Are you really sure you want to know what I'm thinking?"

"I have been told I have good hearing." He grinned, nudging you playfully with his shoulder. "Go ahead and tell me. Whatever it is, I won't judge you."

"Just being in this elevator is making my anxiety go up the wazoo." You sighed, sitting back against the wall.

"That's why I'm trying to distract you." He said with a shrug. "So, you really want to tell me what's bothering you?"

"I've just had such a bad day." You sighed. "I struggled to get out of bed this morning. All my work clothes were in the hamper, the light bulbs went out during my shower, I didn't have any breakfast except for a stupid apple that turned brown and I ran out of coffee this morning. Everything seemed to conspire against me this morning and..."

You took a deep breath and stared down at your feet, knowing that if you looked at him, you might let yourself get carried away. Wooyoung squeezed your hands gently.

"This kind of thing doesn't happen to me. I've always got my shit together, but today, everything seems to fall apart. One after the other." You muttered.

"Y/N, don't feel embarrassed about having bad days. Everyone has them." He murmured. "Sometimes life can be cruel and unjust, leaving us to struggle with burdens we never thought we could carry alone. It happens to the best of us."

"Maybe." You sighed. "But sometimes you wish that sometimes those bad days wouldn't happen at all."

"Well, we can't always get what we want, right?" He smiled gently. "But if we accept reality as it is, rather than as we wish it to be, perhaps we'll feel better and cope better with whatever life throws at us."

"Who are you and what have you done to the cocky Wooyoung I work with?" You let out an amused sigh. "Is it possible to see two sides of a person at once? Because I definitely saw a different side of you today. Thank you for being nice to me."

"Oh come on, it's nothing special." He waved his hand dismissively. "But I'd like a kiss as payment for comforting you. That's if...you want to."

You looked at him, eyes taking in his handsome face. His messy hair, slightly tousled from always running his hands through them. Those eyes that made you weak in the knees. The lips that were dangerously close to yours.

"Do you want to kiss me?" He asked quietly, tilting his head to the side.

There was a moment where neither of you moved, staring deeply into each other's eyes until finally Wooyoung leaned closer and pressed his lips against yours softly.

The soft kiss surprised you, making you pull away slightly. But Wooyoung didn't seem fazed by it and instead he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. You returned the kiss, brushing your lips against his before pressing your mouth more firmly against his.

Your lips parted slightly as he continued to press kisses to your lips, opening wider as his tongue slid along the seam of your mouth, exploring every corner until finally parting to allow him entrance. He tasted faintly of coffee, which made you wonder if he drank a cup before he came down here, but his taste was still pleasantly sweet.

"You know I could care less about what our coworkers would say about us." He muttered against your lips. "I only have eyes for you."

His words, along with his closeness and the scent of his cologne filled your senses and slowly your breathing became deeper, almost as though your lungs were expanding and pushing the air inside even further. The electricity flowing between you caused goosebumps to rise on your skin, spreading all over your body as his hands tightened their grip around your waist.

As much as you wanted to deny it, his lips and his touch were sending sparks of pleasure shooting across your skin and a warm sensation rushed to your core.

"Wooyoung..." You moaned, closing your eyes tightly. You felt his lips graze your jawline, before moving lower to nip at your earlobe. A shiver ran down your spine and your knees began to weaken, causing you to lean back against the wall behind you.

"Y/N..." He whispered, nibbling at your neck before he began to suckle your earlobe. "Do you want me to stop?"

The question caught you completely off guard and you opened your eyes to stare into his. In the dim lighting of the elevator, your pupils were drawn into his dark eyes, which seemed to have gone darker, taking on a darker shade.

"No." You breathed, leaning in to press your lips against his.

And Wooyoung seemed equally affected by your kiss. Before you could blink, his hands reached up and grabbed the sides of your face, pulling you towards him so that your lips met once more.

With every kiss, the intensity grew and soon you were lost in the sensations coursing through your body. When he pulled away slightly to give you a chance to catch your breath, your breath hitched and you licked your lips before reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

The man in front of you was no longer the Wooyoung you usually worked with. Instead, he looked like a man who knows exactly what he wants and won't hesitate to take it.

"Don't stop." You breathed out, Wooyoung lifted you in his arms. His face darkened with desire and his breath came out in shallow pants as he gazed down at you with hunger in his eyes. "Please..."

He dropped to his knees, lifting your skirt and tugging your panties aside, revealing your pussy. It was slick with excitement and arousal and you felt your breath quicken. The sight of your cunt getting wetter was arousing and thrilling, as he looked up at you expectantly.

Before you could stop him, he slipped two fingers inside your pussy and began to stroke you, bringing out small whimpers of pleasure. He continued to slide his fingers in and out of you, fucking you with such skill and control.

Your legs began to shake uncontrollably, feeling weak from the pleasure he brought you and you sank back against the wall, needing something to hold onto. He didn't need to be told twice and quickly placed his hand under your knee, bringing it to rest on his shoulder, his face now buried between your thighs.

You let out a gasp when his tongue began to lap at your clit, teasing it and making it throb with pleasure. You closed your eyes and tilted your hips upwards, allowing him better access to your center. Your hips bucked erratically, driving his tongue faster, while his fingers kept pumping in and out of you.

He hummed and thrust his tongue harder against your clit, causing you to moan loudly. You started panting heavily, sucking in your bottom lip as he began to finger fuck you in earnest, fastening his pace. There was no mistaking it anymore. He was totally focused on pleasuring you, intent on giving you mind blowing orgasms.

The combination of the electric shocks from his fingers in conjunction with the vibrations from his tongue was too much to bear. Soon your hips began to buck violently, moaning and whimpering, driven mad by the pleasure that overwhelmed you.

"Fuck!"

It was unlike anything you ever experienced before. As you screamed his name, letting go of all control, all you could do was keep your orgasm coming, flooding his mouth with your juices until your body relaxed against the wall and he withdrew his tongue, licking the last traces of your cum from his lips.

"Holy fuck..." You gasped, catching your breath.

"Good?" He asked, kissing your inner thigh and working his way up to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his lips, but it only added to your arousal.

"So good but now..." Your knees went weak and you rested your forehead against his. "Now I need you to fuck me."

In an instant, he lifted you so that you could wrap your legs around his waist. The position left you open and vulnerable, as he settled himself between your legs and pushed forward, burying his cock deep inside you. You gasped as you took his length fully, enjoying the fullness of him. The feel of him filling you to capacity.

Wooyoung thrust in and out of you, setting a steady pace that made you cling onto him. With each thrust, his pelvis smacked against your clit, making you cry out.

The speed increased as you leaned back against the wall, lifting your ass higher to accommodate him. Wooyoung gripped your hips, moving them back and forth with precision, hitting just the right spot. He pressed kisses to your neck, then your ears before finding your lips again.

The combination of the feel of his hands gripping your hips and the feel of his hard cock pulsating inside you, sent ripples of pleasure shooting through your body, igniting your passion.

"Oh God...Wooyoung..." You groaned, arching your back as his tongue found its way to your earlobe.

"You feel so good. I could fuck you forever." He whispered, thrusting into you harder and harder, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. "Can I fuck you forever?"

"Yes please...Yes. Yes.." You moaned, pressing your body tighter against his.

His moans were growing louder as he thrust into you faster and faster, matching your pace. With every thrust, his fingers dug into your hips, holding you tight against him. Every time you pressed back against him, he let out a long groan, then immediately buried himself inside you, fucking you harder and harder.

"Y/N... Y/N... Come for me..." He groaned against your ear.

It took every ounce of willpower not to let yourself cum, but his moans and the feel of his hard cock deep inside you drove you crazy and you knew you couldn't hold back any longer.

The muscles in your stomach clenched and a tremor coursed through your body as another orgasm ripped through you, leaving you trembling. Wooyoung thrust harder, gritting his teeth and growling as he came with you. The sight of him losing control and calling out your name made your heart skip a beat and make your knees buckle.

But before you could fall to the floor, he caught you in his arms and held you tightly, kissing you tenderly. You were completely spent and all you wanted was to collapse into his arms.

"I got you." He whispered, wrapping his arms around you protectively.

As soon as Wooyoung placed you on your feet, the power kicked back on and the elevator started moving again. The both of you let out a laugh as you fixed your clothes, making sure that nothing had fallen out of place.

"Wooyoung?" You turned to look at him, smiling at him. "Thank you."

He grasped your hand, linking your fingers together as you walked towards the doors. "Anytime."

As the elevator door opened, he let go of your hand, placing his hands on the doors and holding them open for you. He watched as you exited the elevator, giving you one last smile before he followed you.

When you got to your desk and Wooyoung to his, you were both silent, content in the fact that you had each other and no one else knew what had happened between the two of you. And when you turned to look at your phone, you saw a text from him asking if you wanted to get dinner later.

Your heart skipped a beat as your face lit up with a wide smile. The night was still young and there was plenty of time for you and Wooyoung to enjoy it together.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung #jung wooyoung #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader

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petew21-blog · 1 month

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Family fun

"Hi, I'm Simon and I'm an alcoholic." Haha. I'm just kidding. I'm just a normal nineteen year old kid still living with his widowed father and his three brothers. Today I was suppose to go on a trip with my 4 friends - Michael, Nathan, Daniel and Connor. I was ready to leave, but suddenly my - always happy and kind dad - started screaming about me not doing enough for our family, not doing chores and he banned me to go on the trip. I texted my friends, but only Connor replied:"Better luck next time. C ya". Then my dad even took my phone from me. I have no idea what I have done, but I didn't question him right now. Maybe later when he cools off.

My brother Alex came downstairs and offered me to go with him to the store. He acted different. I can't tell why, but he kept teasing me, which he usually doesn't. He is the quiet one.

We got into the store. I went to get some vegetable and when I got back to him. He was standing there completely naked

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Hurry. Give my some clothes!!! I lost them!"

"How can you just loose your clothes you're wearing?!?"

"Doesn't matter. Give me something."

I gave him my jeans, my shirt, leaving me only with my socks, sweatshirt in my hand and my boxers. He put on the rest and then laughed as he took the sweatshirt from my hands and ran away.

I was standing in a storeonly in my underwear. How embarassing. Alex was standing outside of the store with a phone in his hand already recording and laughing

"What the hell is wrong with you today?"

"Haha. Nothing. Just... enjoying life."

We returned back home. Alex went to show my other two brothers how he humiliated me. I went upstairs to find my father in my bathroom completely naked. He held my phone in his hands and tried to take a nude.

"DAD! What are you doing?!"

He wasn't even shocked and kept trying to get a good photo.

"Oh hey, I was going through your phone and I found this Grindr app where most of the profiles had pictures like this. I thought that maybe it is a dating website and I might have a chance. Maybe I'll find someone there."

THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING

"Dad, please. Go away. And don't install that app. I'll explain that to you later."

He checked himself out again and then winked at me

"Don't act like this isn't the dick that made you. You owe me for that, you know"

Has everyone gone crazy this morning or what the fuck is happening?

I went downstairs, ready for some more weird stuff. But fortunately my two brothers - Joe and Kyle fought. Thank god. The most normal thing in our family that could be happening right now. I sat outside on the porch just briefly watching them fight.

But suddenly the fight turned into this

They made out passionately as many couples in love do. But THEY ARE MY BROTHERS!!!

"STOP! SOMEBODY EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!!!"

All four of the stared at each other back and forth. My dad was the first one who started laughing, then the rest did too.

"What's so funny? Have you all lost your mind?"

"Oh come ooooon. It's just a prank, BRO" said my father

"Besides, would your brother that you secretly have a crush on let you do this?" Alex came to me and placed my hand on his abs, just going up and down and finally going down.

"How... Connor?"

"BINGO! You figured it out. We swapped bodies with everyone in your family just to mess with you. We discovered we could do that last night when we arrived at the campsite, but we decided to surprise you. So, what do you think?"

"Wait. What about my dad and my brothers? Where are they?"

"In the campsite hopefully. But they keep calling your phone, so that's why we took it from you. Seems like we might have some explaining to do. So, until we give these bodies back and might never use them again?" All four of them smiled.

I couldn't believe how perverted my freinds are. And I couldn't believe I didn't really protest.

A story from the inbox: Hello! I love your stories😍😍😍 can u write a story about some friends are doing prank by body swapping with his male family members?

232 notes · View notes

psiroller · 8 days

Note

OkOk, so I know you’re currently in the middle of writing who knows how many more dunmeshi fics, but have you considered Tall-man x Tall-man Chillchuck and Laios yet? Maybe for a quick little drabble or something? I feel like that could go somewhere maybe.. If not this is just me rambling 😔, so feel free to ramble back and have a good day <3

oh anon. you found me juuust as i was raring up to procrastinate. you are in luck. CHILAIOS/656 WORDS/TALLCHUCKXLAIOS/CONSIDER THIS BREAK THE LOCK CANON

“Okay,” Chilchuck said, his voice deeper and rougher than Laios was used to. “What’re you staring at?”

Laios blinked. “You, obviously.”

“But aren’t you used to this shit yet? Do I look different now that you’ve changed back?”

Laios cocked his head. The changeling effect had worn off for Laios a few hours ago, but Chilchuck was still a tallman. Maybe because he was lower to the ground, he got a larger payload? Laios had made extra sure they’d scrubbed everything off him, so it was only a matter of time. Laios didn’t like to think about the possibility Chilchuck never changing back, but with his taller stature returned he could properly appreciate the differences. Chilchuck loomed over Laios as a dwarf and was still taller than him now. His cheekbones were higher, his face stretched along a taller jaw, stubble emerging so soon after a morning shave. Yet, besides the slightly sunken and tired look, Chilchuck’s eyes were still the same; pitch dark in low light, amber-brown in front of the fire, intense when met.

“You do,” Laios said, “but you don’t. I keep noticing little things.”

A blush rose on Chilchuck’s gaunt face, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Well, don’t get too invested. It’s gonna wear off soon.” He rubbed the pressure point on his temple. “Hopefully.”

“It will,” Laios assured him, and scooted closer. “But it’s fascinating… I wonder how the changeling spores decide what form to change someone into?”

“I guess whatever’s funniest,” Chilchuck said with a wry grin. “You saw Izutsumi.”

“I don’t think you’re funny looking, though,” Laios frowned, his eyebrows pinching together. Chilchuck pshawed at him and put a hand on his face when he got close. Laios pushed against it and wriggled, an over-affectionate dog held at bay.

“It’s supposed to make me look freakish to everyone else, so I die alone, right?” Chilchuck said. “Half-foot to tall-man makes sense. I’m twice the size of the biggest guy in my family. Imagine if I came home to my kids like this when they were young.”

He frowned at that, the dark humor sucked out of it by frank darkness. “And an elf to a half-foot,” he went on, trying to wipe the annoying concern off Laios’ face, “That’s gotta be a nightmare. We’re the lowest of the low to them, right?”

“Chilchuck.”

Laios was back in Chilchuck’s space, having evaded his hand, or Chilchuck had let him. It didn’t matter. Chilchuck’s hand found Laios’ shoulder but he didn’t shove. Chilchuck hated being observed so closely, but he made endless exceptions for Laios.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. Chilchuck honked out a laugh. “I’m serious!” Laios barked, and Chilchuck petered out. “I mean it, Chil.”

Chilchuck rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s a shame, since you’re never gonna see this face again.”

Laios held his face and turned Chilchuck to face him, to kiss him. Their faces fit together unevenly even though they were the same size now. Laios scratched his fingers through Chilchuck’s stubble and nuzzled their noses together, did that creepy thing where he opened his eyes to watch Chilchuck as they kissed that always drove him crazy. Laios reached up to touch Chilchuck’s ear, finding a nick in his ear that Marcille could never fully heal all the way, and Chilchuck grumbled as he felt—something like it, it was doing something for him, but maddeningly dull compared to his memory.

“That’s just it, Chil,” Laios breathed. “Seeing you like this, as cool as it is…” he grinned sadly. “I miss you as you are.”

When Laios brought up his other hand to cup Chil’s head, there was a rush of something electric. As he drifted back into reality, he was engulfed in Laios’ warm shadow, and they couldn’t easily interlock their hands. Chilchuck gripped the broad gap between Laios’ middle and ring fingers, and thanked the stupid mushrooms for letting them fit together properly again.

#dungeon meshi #chilaios #laichil #ficroller #fic request #IM STILL WORKING ON CHAPTER 3 OKAY I PROMISE I PROMISE I PROMISE

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thesupreme316 · 7 months

Note

Aew reacts to you falling asleep in most random places or falling asleep on them

You can choose either one

Orange Cassidy x Fem!Reader, MJF x Fem!Reader, Kenny Omega x Fem!Reader, Hook x Fem!Reader, Eddie Kingston x Fem!Reader, Ricky Starks x Fem!Reader, Christian Cage x Fem!Reader nick Wayne x fem

AEW STARS React to: You Falling Asleep in Random Places/On Them

Pairings: Orange Cassidy x Fem!Reader, MJF x Fem!Reader, Kenny Omega x Fem!Reader, Hook x Fem!Reader, Eddie Kingston x Fem!Reader, Ricky Starks x Fem!Reader, Christian Cage x Fem!Reader, Nick Wayne x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 937

Supreme Speaks: hey yall, i'm keeping my promise. Hopefully this is the start of making up for lost time, sorry for being away. I miss writing tbh. But antiways, thanks for being patient. NOW BACK TO MY SCHEMES. Plz remember that you are loved and appriecated.

Taglist: @hooks-martin @sheinthatfandom @triscillal @cassie0sstuff @eddie-kingstons-wifey @hookerforhook @batzy-watzy @wwenhlimagines

Warnings: slightly proofread, failed comedy, GIFS AINT MINE AGAIN GIFS AINT MINE (rights are to the original creators)

Orange Cassidy (Random place):

He’s not fazed

Homeboy is impressed that you can fall asleep anywhere

In fact, he joins you

He has seen you in every random place in the house

Bathroom, linen closet, the kitchen, and how you fell asleep on the steps of the porch??

He’ll never know

It’s a regular occurrence to play “Where’s Y/N?”

One time Trent and Kris came over and saw the two of you sleeping on the porch steps

He just left a sign beside y’all that said “come back later”

After your neighbor called the police for a wellness check

MJF (Random Place/On them):

He thought you were joking when you said you can sleep anywhere

But was genuinely concerned about how you fell asleep in the laundry room

Makes fun of you on Twitter and uses your pictures to describe other people’s matches

If you fell asleep on him, he would melt

I think he would show off that his S/O is sleeping on him with a smirk

Would yell at someone for disturbing you and would blame the other person for you waking up

“No babe, it was Adam’s dumbass voice that woke you up, not me.”

Will bring you closer if you move in your sleep

But make no mistake, if his cat falls asleep on him, you’re sleeping on the floor

Hook (On them):

I can see this man being stiff as a log when you fall asleep on him

Strokes your hair to keep you calm

Doesn’t eat chips for fear that they will awake you

He woke you up once…and that was enough for him

Only answer his friends if they’re asking yes or no questions (will only nod)

Drapes a blanket over you if you don’t have his hoodie on

Eventually, he will fall asleep with you

But he quickly moves to sleep next to you cause you a wild sleeper

One time you were boxing him in your sleep…and won…

Eddie Kingston (Random Place/On them):

Mans would try out your random sleeping places before waking up and crawling back in the bed

“I don’t know how lil mama does it…that shit hurt.”

However, he made a ranking list and the best place is the dining room floor

Finds it funny yet very disciplining, might use it as a punishment for when he misses workout sessions

Will carry you to bed with him cause again….he aint doin that shit

When you fall asleep on him, he just becomes a big ole teddy bear

If he needs to argue or tell someone off, he’ll whisper yell

Will make sure that you are warm by wrapping his hoodie over you

Once you’re asleep, Eddie will never move you or himself

Ricky Starks (On them):

I feel like as long as you don’t drool you’re fine

Or leave makeup on his shirt

If you do, you won’t hear anything about it until you wake up

“I love you babe, but next time, there will be a paper towel barrier.”

Tbh, depending on how tired he is, Ricky will fall asleep on top of you

I can see him just talking you to sleep per your request

Even after you fall asleep, Ricky still be talking cause why not

Like those above, he will scold people if they disturb you

Will put your phone on dnd

Kenny Omega (Random place/weird positions):

At first, cause he couldn’t find you, he would be in distress

He would look in every single bedroom or cushion-based location

Would feel better once he finds you in the bathroom tub (cause he heard your snoring)

I think Kenny would catch on to your locations very quickly

But if you find a new one, he’ll add it to your location list

Knowing Kenny, he would make this into a bit on Being The Elite (BTE)

Like every time there is a fight or argument, you are seen sleeping in a weird position (like back twisting or somethin)

“Y/N sleeping so we have to fight in slo-mo”

Christian Cage (On them):

MANS WOULD FEEL SO PROUD AND POWERFUL

He would feel so happy that you feel comfortable enough for you to fall asleep on him

Anytime you get sleepy, it doesn’t matter where you are, he will offer his shoulder or chest as a pillow

Places kisses on your forehead while your sleep

He moves a lot tho, not on purpose

But you quickly got use to it and would snuggle closer to him

Would use you sleeping as an excuse not to fight

“You better be lucky that Y/N is sleeping or I- wait, I don’t need to fight anyways. Luchasuarus, get him.”

Nick Wayne (Random place):

I am 100 percent certain that this man is easily influenced

Therefore

He will follow suit with your weird sleeping habits

If he sees you sleeping, he sleeping too so move over

Like Cassidy, he would actually like the random sleeping places

He would fall asleep anywhere

I feel like when’s he stressed, he would just sleep in a random place…even if he’s at work

Christian and Luchasuarus would be like where is Nick

And Nick would be asleep on a ladder

280 notes · View notes

bella-rose29 · 9 months

Text

Puppy

Request from anon:

hiiiii, first I wanna say that I enjoy reading your works, they're wonderful. <3

Now, I've seen you post about wanting Lockwood requests and I might have an idea. Lockwood and reader are in long-term relationship (they know each other since childhood, the reader is talentless but Lockwood comes to her when he need to relax/help with a plan/whatever), and no-one knows about the relationship besides them. And after some rough case when kipss crew had to help out, Lockwood and co and kipss crew are drinking in a bar to ease up (the reader works in the bar as part-time job) and in the drunken state Lockwood is even more confident than normally so someone makes a bet with him that he won be able to get a kiss out of the bartender (the reader) by the end of the night... I don't really know what after but maybe you'll be able to find a fluffy/funny ending to it?

I hope I'm making sense.

Have a nice day! :)))

First of all, thank you for the love anon, and I hope you have a nice day too!! <3

Second, I am completely in love with this idea (it's totally something Lockwood would do let's face it) and I had so much fun writing this!!!

Hopefully this lives up to expectations my lovely <3

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: descriptions of injury, fight scenes (with dead people), swearing, suggestive comments, drunken activities (mostly Lockwood), everybody is over 18 so they can legally drink in the pub

Tag list: @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @karensirkobabes, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @wandamaximoffbae, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

As always, if you'd like to be added to/removed from the tag list, let me know here <3

(not my gif <3)

Lockwood was tired.

He'd barely slept the night before, despite not having a case, and he'd barely eaten the whole day. It was nearing 7pm now, the sun having set over an hour ago and leaving the city in almost darkness. There would be no sleeping tonight, either, since he and his company had to tackle a Type One in an old lady's house. All Lockwood really wanted was to see her, and have her tell him stories about her day until he fell asleep in her arms, but he couldn't do that right now. Hopefully this would be done quickly, this job, so that he could get to hers before she went to sleep.

Lockwood and Co had been in the kitchen of Mrs Lovey's house for a while now, cups of tea left empty on the counter and the packet of biscuits finished off. Initial readings had been low, giving Lockwood hope that they really would be done quickly, and they'd made note of the likely places for the Source.

"Lockwood? You're staring into space again. You alright?"

He blinked back into reality, pulling himself out of his thoughts of warm rooms and soft kisses.

"Huh? Oh, right. Yeah, I'm alright. Just surprised this Visitor hasn't turned up yet." He checked his watch. "Time for another reading in the living room?"

George nodded. "I'll go first."

The three of them headed in, rapiers at the ready.

"One degree. And a feeling of unease. It's definitely getting close to being here."

"Never mind close, I can see it," Lockwood whispered, taking up a defensive position.

"Yeah, I can hear it, too. Sounds like someone crying. I don't think this is a Type One either," Lucy added, and Lockwood couldn't help but agree.

"Any murders or anything happen here, George?"

"Not that I'm aware of, and I researched for days for this one. Didn't find anything out of the ordinary."

"Male or female, Luce? The voice."

"Uh, hang on, shut up a minute." She closed her eyes, focusing her efforts on Listening. "Male. Definitely. Sounds older, and like he's got some sort of trauma."

"Right. George, you figure out where the Source is. Lucy and I will watch it, make sure it doesn't go for you. Can either of you see it yet?"

"Not really. There's a sort of shiny mist over by that armchair, though," George said, pointing in the direction of the ratty old seat.

"Yeah, okay. That's where it is. Lucy?"

"Same as George. Getting stronger though. Maybe the chair is the Source?"

"Could be. George?"

"You're sure you've got my back, yeah? Because I really can't see it that well right now and I'd rather not die tonight."

"We're sure. Go on, have a poke around."

George did so, hesitantly getting closer to the chair and holding the scanner up. "Yeah, the Source is here somewhere." He prodded the side, and Lockwood saw Lucy flinch.

"It didn't like that at all. God, that was awful. Wait, George, don't-"

She slammed her hands over her ears, trying to block out the scream that even Lockwood could hear now.

"George, get the net," he cried out, rapier moving swiftly as the Visitor grew brighter and aimed for the head of the company.

"Incredibly clear visual, Lockwood! Lucy was right, it's definitely a Type Two!"

"GET THE NET, GEORGE!"

Lockwood had been backed into a corner, arm starting to ache from the continuous motion of the rapier holding off the ghost in front of him. Lucy had recovered (just about), and was picking up her rapier to help him. Sensing a second opponent, the ghost turned, and targeted Lockwood's coworker. The two of them spent the next few minutes sending the Visitor between them while George repeatedly chucked the net over various parts of the chair, expression growing more frantic each time.

"George, what's going on?!" Lucy shouted.

"It's not working! I don't think the chair is the Source! Or if it is, it's inside the chair!"

"Then get searching! Rip the whole bloody thing apart if you have to! But get on with it!" Lockwood gritted his teeth, fighting off the cold unease he felt flooding through his body. He thought of her, and her smile, and her laugh, and pushed back twice as hard against the Visitor. At some point he'd injured himself, the cut on his upper left arm bleeding slightly, but he couldn't think about that until the ghost was dealt with.

"GOT IT!" George shouted, voice triumphant. He slung the net around the object he'd found, and all at once the living room went silent apart from the heavy breaths of the three agents. The ghost disappeared, and the temperature started rising. George sat back on his knees and held the swaddled object up, bits of foam stuffing caught in his curls. "Knife, it's got blood on it. I'd wager she killed her husband. There was a cut already made in the back, made it easier to find." He looked vaguely manic, what with his wide grin and foam-covered hair, but Lockwood couldn't deny his gratitude for his weird friend.

"I reckon we need to have a chat with DEPRAC, then. Mrs. Lovey clearly doesn't live up to her name," he replied, smile matching George's.

~~~

Half an hour later, Lockwood was on his way to hers. He'd left George and Lucy in the taxi, telling them he had something to sort out and he'd be back later, and to not wait up for him, and had caught his own cab to his destination.

He dragged himself up the front steps, knocking on the front door, and couldn't help the smile that appeared when it swung open to reveal his girlfriend.

"Jesus Christ, you look like shit."

"Charming as ever, love. Can I come in?"

Y/n stepped to the side, giving him a peck on the lips as he went past. "Shoes off, then up to my room. I'll be there in a sec. Gimme your coat, I'll hang it up for you."

He pulled himself up to her room, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake her siblings, and collapsed on her bed.

"Look at you. You're like a puppy, all cute and cuddly."

He lifted his head as Y/n walked in, closing the door behind her with a soft click as she balanced a tray in her hands.

"Jacket off. And shirt."

"If you wanted me naked you could have just said so, darling." He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, revelling in her blush.

"Shut up and strip, Anthony," she mumbled.

He complied, smirk turning into smile as he saw the medical supplies on the tray, right next to a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits.

"What even happened?"

"Honestly? No clue. Type One turned out to be a Type Two murder victim though, so that was fun."

"You know, there are times I wish I had Talent. Then you come here looking like this and saying things like that and I wonder why I ever wanted it in the first place. Easy on the shirt, I think it's stuck." He'd winced trying to peel the fabric away from the wound, and Y/n immediately replaced his fingers with hers, touch gentle as she attempted to prise his shirt off. Sucking in air through her teeth as she got it off, Lockwood knew it was bad. It had been a dull throb the whole time he'd been travelling over, too exhausted to think about it more, but now that he had nothing else to think about the pain sharpened.

"This is gonna hurt, okay? I'm just gonna sterilise it, so try not to move. Three, two..." He waited for one, but before she got there, Y/n had placed the cotton wool on his arm, dabbing the alcohol on the wound. He gritted his teeth, asking her about her day. She spoke while she worked, cleaning it out and covering it in protective wrapping. Her voice distracted him, letting him lose himself in her words, and she was done before he knew it, pouring a cup of tea and offering it out to him. "Put this on," she said, passing over an old shirt of his that he left at hers specifically for times like this.

"Do you really want me to?"

"No, but if it means that when my parents inevitably walk in they don't kick you out forever, I'll live with it." He laughed slightly, placing the tea down and pulling the top on, careful not to disturb his wound.

"You know you don't have to do that, right? I'm perfectly capable of looking after my own injuries."

"I know," she shrugged, sitting down next to him on the bed. "But I don't mind. Just another excuse to be close to you, I guess."

"You don't need an excuse for that, love. You know I'll happily give you anything you like."

"Anything?"

He nodded.

"Alright," she said, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips, breaking away when their smiles got too wide.

"I thought you were going to make me dance naked in the street or something." Her eyes went wide as she took in his words.

"Oh my god, I am totally making you do that sometime."

He groaned, unable to fight the smile on his face as she peppered his cheeks with kisses, finally pressing one to his mouth.

"Remind me why I love you?"

"Because I'm amazing, and the most incredible person ever?"

He chuckled, kissing her again. "Yeah. You are."

~~~

"Where the hell have you been, Tony? We've been waiting for you!"

"Just had some last minute things to sort out, don't get your knickers in a twist, Kipps. Oh, thanks Luce," he said, smiling at the girl as she handed him a flask of tea. He'd actually been at Y/n's, spending time with her before her shift at the pub. He'd almost been late, her parents wanting him to stay for dinner (he had politely declined, reminding them that he had a job to go to as well as their daughter), and her younger siblings wanting him to play with them. Lockwood and Y/n's parents had been friends since before either of them were born, at one point the two families living next to each other on Portland Row, and it was only the arrival of the fourth baby five years ago that had made the L/n family move. It had only been natural that Anthony and Y/n started dating, having been childhood friends, and her parents were delighted at the pairing. Unfortunately that now meant that they wanted him to spend every spare minute at their house, which more often than not made him slightly late for work.

"I'm not wearing knickers," the older boy muttered indignantly, clearly unable to come up with a good enough retort.

"Oh, are these the files? Thanks George."

"Wait, have you not even read these?" Kipps said, eyebrows rising.

"Of course I have, just not the whole compiled thing. I'm not stupid." Kipps scoffed at that.

"Yeah, sure you're not, Tony. C'mon. Hurry up and read, we're late because of you and we need to set everything up before it gets dark."

~~~

Three hours later, the two teams were close to death.

Both in the sense that they were run ragged, energy severely depleted and bodies aching, and also in that they were completely surrounded by ghosts, Type Ones and Types Twos blocking every exit. The report had said that there were only meant to be two Spectres in the whole abandoned department store, but before it had even been properly dark Lucy had heard voices crying out and shouting, and Lockwood had seen death glows so bright he'd needed his sunglasses.

"Tony, what the hell are you doing?!"

He was taking a break, eyes aching from the brightness surrounding them and arm protesting the weight of his rapier. He scanned the area, sure that Lucy would have his back for a moment, and spotted something through a gap in the Visitors.

"Lucy?"

"What?!"

"I need you to not kill me and cover me with flares."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to run through the ghosts."

"You're WHAT?!"

"What? What's he saying?" Kipps was trying to get closer to them, rapier cutting arcs into the air and not giving him much headway.

"You're impossible, you know that?" Lucy glared at him, grabbing some flares from her belt.

"Yep. Ready?" She threw, the magnesium creating a break in the swarm of ghosts large enough for Lockwood to cut through. He made it to the other side (although a near miss from a badly aimed flare made him think that Lucy was trying to hit him and not the Visitors), trying to block out the sounds of his team mates yelling as they fought swathes of the undead. He ducked under a chair that a poltergeist had thrown, dodging the knives hurled afterwards. Skidding to a halt in front of a large iron box filled with objects, the lid hanging open, Lockwood slammed it shut, throwing a net over the top for good measure and securing the edges. Within seconds the majority of the Visitors disappeared. A few still remained, including the two poltergeists, but the number was much better.

The two teams spent the next thirty minutes finding the various Sources of the remaining ghosts, all the while trying to not get hit by the items the poltergeists were throwing, and by the end of it when Kipps suggested going to the pub, nobody disagreed.

~~~

Lockwood and Co were in the taxi on their way to the pub when George piped up.

"Why'd you agree to going to the pub with Kipps? I would have thought you'd rather eat your own foot than spend more time with him."

"I need a drink, and he said he'd buy the first round. If it's free, I'll take it. I don't really care who's buying it, even if it's Kipps."

They clambered out the taxi, Lockwood paying the driver and jogging to catch up with the other two just as they entered the pub. Spotting Kipps' team already sat down, the three of them headed over, taking seats and giving their order to the older agent. Lockwood looked around, certain he recognised the building but unsure why, when his gaze caught on the girl behind the bar.

Ah.

Of course the pub Kipps picked was the one that Y/n worked at. Lockwood had been here before, which is why he thought it was familiar, but nobody knew about his relationship with the bartender. Kipps came back with the drinks then, one of the other servers following with the rest and asking for ID. Taking his first sip, Lockwood felt himself relax a little more, happy to not be going anywhere for a while after the gruelling job earlier.

~~~

"You," Lucy pointed at him, "are so drunk right now."

"Seriously, you cannot hold your alcohol, can you Tony?"

"Don't call me Tony, you prick." It was true that Lockwood was a lightweight, and he knew it, but he grumbled about the accusation anyway. Kipps only laughed, not doing much better than his rival in terms of handling alcohol, and took another swig of his beer.

"You're probably rubbish at picking up girls, too. Y'know, you're probably rubbish at every normal guy thing."

"Shut up, I can so pick up girls." He wasn't going to let Kipps tell him he was bad at anything.

"Oh really?"

"Yep. Amazing at it."

"Bet you can't get a kiss out the bartender though."

"Which one," he said, hoping Kipps would pick the right one.

"The one in the blue top, about your age. In fact, I am so confident you'll be shit at this, I'll bet ten quid you can't do it."

"Oh you're on," Lockwood said, knowing already he'd win the bet. Kipps had unknowingly picked Lockwood's girlfriend, and this would be the easiest ten pounds of his life.

"I'll bet a tenner too. I'm looking forward to watching you fail dramatically," Kat Godwin added, smirk on her face. Bobby placed his own bet, and soon enough there was fifty quid on the line, with George and Lucy agreeing with Kipps.

"Off you go, Lockwood," Lucy smiled, giving him a pat on the back. "Try not to traumatise the poor girl."

"Oh, just you all wait," he slurred, pointing a finger at them. "This is gonna be easyyyy." He headed for the bar, confidence filling him and giving him the ability to walk a lot straighter than he would otherwise have. He leaned forward on the wooden surface, fingers drumming against it. "Heyyy," he said, smiling up at his girlfriend as he slid (unsuccessfully) onto a stool.

"Hi... you okay?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm great, and you," he wagged his finger at her, pausing for effect, "are gorgeous." He winked, and she suppressed a laugh, making him pout. "Why're you laughing? It's true!"

"Ant, honey, you are very drunk right now. Please go home," she said, pressing a hand to her mouth to stop the giggles bursting out.

"But I can't go home," he said, suddenly very serious.

"Oh really? Why's that?"

"Because I need a kiss if I'm gonna go home." He puckered up immediately, leaning forward over the bar and closing his eyes.

"Oh my god, Anthony, stop it!"

"Aw, do you not wanna kiss me?" He pouted again, and Y/n couldn't stop her laughter anymore. Lockwood sat back, crossing his arms over his chest and huffing. "Well, I'm not going away until I get a kiss from the prettiest bartender person lady that I've ever seen, so you'll have to get used to me being here."

"Okay, alright! Lemme serve this customer, yeah?" She turned away, leaving Lockwood to stew in his seat at her lack of kisses. Waiting for her to come back to him felt like an eternity, and when she came around the bar to stand next to him, he perked up, half launching himself at her. "Woah! Hold on, Ant! Jesus!" He was still sat on the stool, Y/n being only slightly taller than him despite being stood up, and he pulled her between his legs, arms wrapping around her waist. "Wait, what about your friends? I thought they didn't know?"

"Don't care, jus' wanna kiss you. There's a share of fifty pounds in it for you," he said suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows like he had a few weeks ago when she'd patched him up.

"Oh wow, you really love me, huh? Kissing me for money?" she asked sarcastically, but her eyes were warm. He nodded, dopey look on his face.

"Please? 'Cause Kipps said I can't pick up girls, and he bet money that I couldn't get a kiss out of you, and then the others bet money too, and mostly I wanna prove him wrong, but also I want the money so I can take you on the most amazing date in your life and get you ice cream."

"You are such a golden retriever puppy of a boyfriend, aren't you? Come here." She took his face in her hands, placing a few soft kisses on his mouth. His arms tightened around her waist, holding her closer to him, and Y/n had to brace a hand on the bar so that she didn't fall over from the awkward angle. When she pulled back, he chased her lips for a moment, opening his eyes slowly. His gaze was full of love, and he had a gentle smile on his face.

"I love you, Y/n/n."

"Love you too, Ant. Now get your fifty pounds and drink some water."

"Ugh, but water's boringgg," he complained, frown forming on his face. Y/n chuckled, kissing the crease between his eyebrows.

"I'll give you more than kisses when you come over on Saturday if you sober up." Lockwood stopped frowning immediately, and Y/n could practically feel the happiness radiating off of him.

"Where's the water?"

~~~

"Shit, how'd you do that, Tony?"

Lockwood shrugged. "I'm just really good at picking up girls."

"Sure, is that vodka?"

"Nope, water."

"Why have you got that?" Kipps wrinkled his nose, handing over his portion of Lockwood's winnings.

"Because she told me to drink it," he said, sipping the liquid through the straw he'd asked for (it made drinking boring things more fun, he'd told Y/n).

"Uh... okay?"

"Yeah. I feel like- hang on, Lucy, where's your tenner? Thanks. I feel like it's a little bit unfair, the bet, 'cause she is actually my girlfriend, but- no, you can't take the money back! You made a bet! No take-backs! But thanks anyway."

"So you can't pick up girls!" Kipps shouted, thinking he'd finally found something Anthony Lockwood couldn't do.

"Well technically I can, 'cause I had to pick her up in the first place to get her to be my girlfriend, and also she's not that heavy, so I can definitely pick her up if she doesn't wriggle too much. I know 'cause I've done it before."

Kipps groaned. "Wait... she just told you to drink water, so you are?"

"Yep. She's very persuasive. Basically said that if I drink it all then when I go to her house on Saturday we're gonna have sex," he said casually.

Everybody around the table choked on their drinks.

#anthony lockwood #lockwood and co #lockwood netflix #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood & co #idiots in love #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you

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grandlinedreams · 9 months

Text

You need to sleep.

You know that, the bone-deep weariness of your body and heaviness of your eyes make it more than clear that you need rest. After all, your senses aren’t as sharp as they should be when you’re this exhausted – you’re more prone to mistakes, and the idea of one of your beloved crewmates getting hurt because of you makes you feel sick. It should be easy to lay down and close your eyes, surrendering to dreamland – and yet.

You can’t sleep.

You’ve tried laying down below deck, the usual comfort of it unusually absent, no matter how much you toss and turn, adjusting the position of your pillow and the weight of your blanket. You’ve asked Sanji for tea, thinking that would help – only to stubbornly remain awake even after, no sign of winding down.

You’ve also tried taking a leaf out of Zoro’s book and finding the comfiest place you can out on the deck, hoping the warmth of the sun and gentle, rhythmic lull of ocean waves would help guide you into sleep.

Only to find the deck as momentarily inhospitable as sleeping below deck. It’s starting to frustrate you how easily sleep is eluding you. As a last resort, you end up seeking Chopper’s help. He’s a doctor, after all – hopefully he can find something to help you.

It ends up being a tiny glass vial of liquid, one that Chopper hands to you carefully. “This should definitely help,” he tells you, “It might take a minute to take effect, but after that you should be able to sleep!”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Thanks Chopper, you’re amazing.”

The usual flush appears on his cheeks as he offers a happy shimmy at your praise. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, you know!” He protests as you leave the infirmary, vial in hand. Popping the cork, you give it an experimental sniff and hum. It smells distinctly of cherries, with an herbal undertone.

Tipping the vial to your lips, the medicine empties into your mouth and you swallow, making sure that you haven’t left anything in the bottle before pocketing the now empty container to return to Chopper later. Now to find somewhere to sleep – you’re afraid that sleep will still stubbornly elude you if you pick where you’ve already tried.

There’s already someone in the library when you enter, and you pause when Robin looks up. “Oh, sorry–”

“Don’t be,” she answers, smile tugging at her lips as she watches you. “Did you need something?”

You shake your head, still feeling guilty for interrupting her own downtime. “No, just…looking for somewhere to relax. Chopper gave me something to help me sleep, and I’m afraid that if I try one of the places I already did, it won’t work.”

Out loud, your reasoning sounds silly, even to you – but Robin’s smile doesn’t falter, expression softening a little further as she gestures to the empty space beside her. “I don’t mind the company,” she says when you hesitate.

You still linger at the door for a moment, weighing your options before you move to sit beside her on the couch, tucking yourself to take up as little room as possible.

"Comfortable?" Robin asks, amusement in her tone as she watches you, and you nod. "Come here, I won't bite."

And then there are arms sprouting from you, harmless as they push you to lean over on Robin, another pair retrieving a blanket to drape over you. "There, better?"

It is, but the warmth of her body against yours is making your heart do funny things that you hope she doesn't notice. "Thank-you, Robin."

"Don't mention it," she says with a soft smile. "If you're having trouble sleeping, shall I read to you?" She picks up the book she'd been in the middle of when you walked in. "It's an interesting book, I promise."

Your heart trips into overdrive. "I – sure, I'd like that."

"Okay," Robin opens her book, then looks at you. "It helps if you close your eyes to sleep, you know." She laughs outright when you hurriedly shut your eyes, her attention shifting back to her book.

It takes a moment for her to find a rhythm, but it doesn't take long for the cadence of her voice to help you relax further as the medicine begins to kick in.

Robin doesn't even finish the chapter before you're asleep. She looks over, taking in the peaceful expression on your face, the faint shadows beneath your eyes that she hopes will disappear now that you're getting the sleep you so desperately need.

She reaches up carefully, brushing hair from your face before she leans to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Sleep well."

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #nico robin x reader #one piece scenario #–ml: robin.

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coltermorning · 10 months

Text

When Lightning Strikes Twice (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: You and Arthur pursue a treasure only to wind up switching bodies thanks to an unexplainable lightning storm.

Author’s Notes: This is probably pure chaos to read because of the pronouns but enjoy I tried my best :,)

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, smut, high honor Arthur Morgan, bodyswap

AO3 Link

When Lightning Strikes Twice

Word count: 10876

The sun was baking the ground, the trees, everything it could reach. You included. It was a wonder the heat hadn’t caused an endless scape of brown to stretch into the horizon. It certainly felt like it should, like being an egg on a skillet. Your predicament wasn’t making things any easier either.

“Where’d you say this tree was?”

“Just down this way.”

You followed Arthur on horseback toward some kind of treasure. Hopefully. You normally wouldn’t give a moment’s thought to a map, especially one as ragged and torn as the one you had found, but Arthur mentioned he had found two that turned into treasure—gold. It was at least worth a look. Shit at tracking, you had asked Arthur to come along. You knew it would mean splitting the take, but if said take was as large as Arthur’s previous finds, it would be worth it and then some.

“Think the tree’ll have some kind of clue?” you asked, wiping the sweat from your brow. Your patience was running pitifully thin.

“Map says to go past it. I think I know where.”

Cryptic. Really, you didn’t know why you put up with him. That was a lie, you did—Arthur had become one of your closest friends. It was a bit of an odd pairing, him being so serious and literal and you being so easy-going. But the more you got to know him, the more you brought out that side of him, no matter how deep he tried to bury it.

“Oh, he knows where!” you said to your horse, patting its neck.

“Hush,” he grumbled, earning himself a cackle from you.

Sure enough, you soon reached the tree the map depicted, managing not to melt off your horse in the meantime. It really was unbearably hot.

Arthur stopped his horse next to the tree, studying it. It was definitely the right one—a low limb stuck straight out of its side as if someone had shaped it into an arrow, pointing the way. The bridge behind it was the same one depicted on the map.

“How’d you know where to find this?”

Arthur got down off his horse to get a closer look. “Told you. I get around, note my surroundings. Unlike you.”

“Hey, if I didn’t note my surroundings, we wouldn’t have this map in the first place.”

He chuckled. “Sure.” Circling the whole tree, he studied it closely before getting back on his horse. “This way.”

“Where to?”

He didn’t answer, and you had half a mind to throw something at him. But when he slowed again, pointing out another tree with a funny limb, you pursed your lips.

“Ah. One with the land, he is.”

“Would you stop talking to your horse about me? It’s unseemly.”

“Like you don’t talk to your horse.”

“I talk to my horse plenty. I don’t gossip.”

You laughed. “Sure you don’t.”

Arthur shot you a look before moving on, finding another tree, then another. The map showed the first tree in the foreground, a river beside it, and finally a group of trees that had been burned. So far, the latter two weren’t revealing themselves. That is, until you followed where the last tree had been pointing and found a river snaking by the hillside, sparkling in the hot sunshine.

“Think that’s the one we’re looking for?”

Arthur considered. “Has to be. See that rock in the stream there?” He nodded toward said rock, the same one depicted on the map, and your excitement took hold at the sight of it—maybe all this sweating and waiting would pay off.

You trotted past him before he could start, taking the lead.

“Where you going?”

“I don’t need you anymore,” you teased. “Go right on home, leave the real work to them as can handle it.”

“Like hell I am,” he said with a snort, catching up to ride alongside you.

After crossing the small river, your horses climbed the hill on the other side, coming out onto a worn path.

“That cluster of dead trees seemed to be on a hilltop,” Arthur offered. You looked ahead of you, across the path, to the steep hill that ran upward and nearly out of sight behind the trees.

“Up it is,” you said, leading again. This was a harder hill for your horse to take, but you were soon very high, overlooking the rocky landscape. There was a small settlement just south, one you had never come across before. The people milling about were wild for doing anything other than resting with this heat bearing down on them.

“Butcher Creek,” Arthur said, inclining his head toward it.

“Hm.” You turned, needing for this to be over. Needing to be back in camp with your head dunked in a barrel of water.

Climbing higher still, going north on a small path that snaked through the grass, the pair of you finally came out on the very trees the map depicted. They were all burnt and gnarled, without many limbs to speak of. As if something powerful had snapped them all off.

“Did a fire do this?” you asked, slowing your approach.

“Looks more like lightning to me.”

“Lightning?” As soon as you said it, you felt a shift in the air, a slight breeze where the air had been stiff as hot death a moment before. You looked toward the sky but saw no foul weather to speak of. Your horse still shifted uncomfortably beneath you, something it only ever did during said weather. “Strange,” you muttered, getting off your horse to follow Arthur.

He had approached the trees, looking between their deadened trunks for any sign of something left behind on the ground. There wasn’t much to look for—it was a tiny spot of land, very few trunks left standing in the small patch of rock and infertile ground.

“What are we looking for?” you asked him, knocking against the first tree you came to, checking for hollowness.

“I ain’t too sure. That bit on the back didn’t make much sense to me.” This meaning the back of the map which had a tiny scrawling of words on it. You tried to recall them from memory.

See the sight Utter the word With blinding light It will be heard

Arthur figured this was more nonsense than anything, but you hadn’t brushed it off entirely. “Utter the word,” you mumbled under your breath. Maybe there was a word carved into a tree. You began your search for such a thing when you felt that breeze again, the whispering touch of it making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. You looked up when the wind began moving the tree leaves like a promise of an oncoming storm. But there was still a cloudless sky, the sun bearing down its relentless beat. If it weren’t for the trees moving, you would think you were going mad.

“You feel that?” You looked to Arthur.

“Feel what?”

“That wind.”

“Yeah.” Abandoning his crouching search of the ground, he stood tall, taking in his surroundings. “We’re up pretty high.”

“Still strange.” You looked over at your horse, the way it stepped around unsettled. “This may sound stupid but…lightning can’t strike unless it’s cloudy, right?”

Arthur shot you an unamused look.

“I’m serious. My horse never acts that way.” You pointed to it, drawing his attention. The animal was beginning to get beyond the point of wanting to listen despite Arthur’s horse standing firm beside it. It wouldn’t be long until your mount lost its tether to the ground and ran from whatever was giving it such a fright.

You made for it with hands held up and voice low. “Easy,” you hummed, trying to calm it. The closer you got, the more the horse tip toed away, the whites of its eyes beginning to show. And still, that strange wind picked up. “Easy there,” you repeated. It was useless. The horse finally got scared enough to move, stepping away from you.

“What’re you doing to it?” Arthur said as he approached. “You best grab the reins before it-”

The horse bolted before he could finish the sentence. “Shit. Hey!” you yelled after it. It had never acted so spooky before, especially not toward you. But there it was, galloping into the trees so fast you knew it would take Arthur’s horse to catch it. You set your hands on your hips and let out a sigh. “This treasure better be goddamn worth it.” You looked to Arthur, but when you did, something else caught your eye. Your horse had led you over to a new vantage from which to view the dead trees. And the gnarled trunks all fit together, almost like…

“Look at that,” you told Arthur, pointing to them. He turned, and the wind gave a bellowing howl. It was so strange, such a loud noise for such cloudless weather. Normally wind like that, a cold wind through all this heat no less, signaled rain. But you couldn’t focus on that, not when your heart began to race from the sight before you. “The trees. They look like- well…” Maybe you were reaching. You didn’t want Arthur to think you’d gone as crazy as your horse. But still, that poem on the back of the map talked about a word.

“I see it,” he said. “They spell…”

“Why.” You said it together. And the second you did, the wind drew back in a breath, as if in retreat. Then the sky exploded.

You cowered and fell, knowing nothing but deafening noise and blinding light, entirely disoriented. You held onto the ground beneath your fingers as the howl of wind was swallowed by a crack so loud it tore against your ears. Then there was heat, unfathomable heat. Scorching your skin and any remaining senses you had. Before you could even think to run for your life, all went black.

You moved your eyes around, not opening them. You hurt all over. So much that your entire body felt heavy. You tried to move but groaned in pain. Only, the sound that met your ears was entirely wrong. Your eyes shot open. And before you was…you. On the ground, feet away. Unconscious.

“What the-” You stopped dead at the sound of your voice. At how deep it was. “No…” You looked down to find Arthur’s shirt on your body. No. Arthur’s body. “What the hell?” Arthur’s voice came rumbling out with your every word. “I-” You couldn’t think of what to do. Couldn’t think. You fought through your pain and started crawling, heading for your body sprawled out on the ground. You were dead. You had died. From the looks of the burnt up ground, you’d gotten struck by lightning. But the sky remained relentlessly blue, so at odds with the horror of what you saw before you.

You finally reached yourself, unable to process how strange that was as you reached out with Arthur’s hand and touched your body. Immediately, you jolted awake.

“What’s- what the hell?” You could only stare at yourself, unbelieving, as your own eyes went wide at the sight of Arthur. Of you in Arthur’s body.

“I’m…” You were completely at a loss. How could you be alive in two different bodies? How could you be alive at all?

“You’re me.” The words coming out of your mouth…you had to think hard to come up with who was who, with what that meant.

“Arthur?” you asked lowly.

“How did this happen?” You looked unnaturally still when you said it. When Arthur said it. His mannerisms on your body were absurdly strange.

“I…” You could hardly fight the words out. You could hardly believe what you were seeing. Maybe you had died. “The lightning. The trees.”

At the mention, you looked to the dead trees out from under the brim of Arthur’s hat. They stood there as unassuming as ever, the cloudless sky as still as it had been on the ride up here, the scorching heat returned.

You heard Arthur turn to look at them too but didn’t watch, unsettled by the sight of yourself.

“How the hell did lightning strike us? It’s clear as a bell out here.” You had the sudden urge to laugh, hearing Arthur’s anger pour out in your voice. It sounded ridiculous.

“Beats me,” you answered. “How am I you? Why am I you?” You met your own eyes once more. And the feeling was still so wrong that you tried to stand just to have something to do with yourself. You were weak, like you had taken one hell of a beating. But moving was different. Arthur’s body was considerably stronger than yours. Finally reaching your feet, you looked down from a taller height, noticing every inch of how different you felt for the first time. For one thing, you were a man now. So that was how it felt, standing around with something between your legs. You shifted back and forth on your feet, getting used to it.

“Whatever you’re doing, stop it.” You looked to yourself, to Arthur, and smiled.

“What?”

“Don’t move your hips around like that. It looks ridiculous.”

“What, like this?” you said, shaking your hips back and forth. The sheer weight of his body was an adjustment, your balance catching.

“For the love of-” He grimaced like he normally did, only it looked laughable on you.

“Don’t scowl like that,” you said, still smiling. “I never scowl.”

“Yeah, well, I do,” he said, standing. When he managed it, you did laugh, the sound of Arthur’s rare mirthful laughter piercing the air. You were so short. How had you never noticed how small you were compared to Arthur? “What?” he spat.

“You’re just- you’re so little.”

“And you’re an ugly bastard.”

“Hey! I am not. In fact, I’d say I look pretty good like this.” You posed with chin held high, knowing how much it would irk him.

You immediately felt his—no, your—hands on you as he shoved you. “Cut that out.”

Your grin widened. “Make me.”

You could tell it was taking all his will not to pounce on you. But even he knew it was useless, as tiny as he was probably feeling right now.

“Forget it,” he said with a dismissal wave. “How do we fix this?” He looked to the trees and made for them, trudging up the hill.

You followed, noting how large your stride was. How weird it felt to walk with something between your legs. “Who says we have to fix it?”

“I do,” he snapped. “I ain’t getting stuck like this.”

“Oh, come on,” you said, your words in Arthur’s voice sounding just as laughable. He would never say something so eagerly. “It ain’t so bad.”

“For you maybe.”

You stopped, crossing your arms. It drew his attention.

“What?” he said on a sigh. “And stop standing like that. You’re standing like a woman.”

“You don’t have to be so hateful towards me. I know being me isn’t all that grand, but you don’t have to throw it in my face.”

His expression faltered. Just barely. But you knew your own face well enough to spot it.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he mumbled, turning back to the trees.

You rolled your eyes. Then cracked a grin when you had a sudden idea.

“Prove it.”

“What?”

“Prove it. Let’s go a day like this, see how well you can handle being a woman in a man’s world.”

“No,” he said flatly, looking to the trees again. “Where’d that damn wind go?”

“Seems to have left,” you said with a shrug. “May be stuck like this.”

“This all just a joke to you, is it?”

“It’s certainly amusing enough. Remind me not to get too angry by the way. It’s more cute than it is intimidating.”

When he didn’t respond, you just smiled and turned, making for his horse. It had run a short ways away, likely when lightning had rained down from the cloudless heavens. If it had even been lightning at all. If it weren’t for you walking in Arthur’s boots, you would think none of it had happened in the first place.

You reached Arthur’s horse, the animal nuzzling your hand fondly, not recognizing you weren’t its owner. “There,” you said lowly, liking the sound of your deep voice.

“Hey! What the hell you think you’re doing?” Arthur shouted.

“I think I’ll go for a ride, see what a day in the life of Arthur Morgan’s like.”

“Are you crazy? You’re staying here until we figure this out.

“No, I ain’t crazy. And I’d like to see you stop me.”

Arthur’s hand twitched beside the gun on your hip, like it always did when he was agitated. You barked a laugh. “You gonna shoot me? Shoot yourself?”

“I’m fighting the urge.”

“Really,” you said, beginning to get annoyed. “It’s not that bad. Just give it one damn day, then we can figure this out, go back to being ourselves.”

“I don’t want to. And I don’t want you to. You’ll get me killed, parading around like that.”

“Like what?”

“Swinging your- my hips around. I’ll get shot on sight. Hell, your mouth’ll probably get me shot up if that don’t.”

“Your mouth’s about to get you shot up just fine,” you said flatly, mounting his horse. He was still far enough away that you didn’t have to worry about him catching up. “Enjoy finding my horse after all that lightning.” You smiled through his protests and kicked his horse into a run, riding swiftly away, no longer hampered down by the sweltering heat thanks to your newfound optimism and purpose.

Riding a horse was strange now, having to adjust to Arthur’s heavy-set body. When the town of Van Horn came into view, you were relieved for two reasons, the first being that you’d managed to stay in the saddle. The second rendered you unable to contain your smile. How different it would be to waltz up to the bar, to know other men eyed you with intimidation instead of perversion. Well, maybe waltz was a bad word. Arthur was right about that much—you had to do a better job of playing the part or risk getting him killed. Getting yourself killed. But you had known Arthur long enough to know how to imitate him well enough. All it took was a grimace and averted eyes, walking like you were a bow-legged cowboy. How hard could it really be?

A half hour later, you got your answer. Being a man was the easy part. Being a man like Arthur was where things muddied. Apparently, he drew attention to himself just by being. He was a big guy, and no doubt unfamiliar in these parts. A few nasty looks in your direction was all it took for you to keep his hat slung low over your eyes. No wonder he did that so often.

“What say you and me go have a little fun?”

Never having heard a question like that directed at you, it took you a beat to realize the woman by the bar who said it was asking you. Or Arthur.

You looked to her, trying to hide your surprise. “Maybe another time.” You were almost sure you’d heard Arthur say that before. But it didn’t stop the color from rising to your face.

“No need to be embarrassed, sweetheart. I’ll treat you real gentle.”

Sure she would. Oblivious to who hid under Arthur’s skin all the while. “No, but thank you.”

“Uh huh,” she said tauntingly. “You just let me know if you change your mind.” She walked away, and her words suddenly had your mind turning furiously. What would it feel like to have sex in a man’s body? Just as the thought reached you, the saloon doors slammed open. And in walked you. The sight still made you uneasy.

“You,” Arthur said, his tone in your voice drawing the attention of a few of the other patrons.

One whistled. “You better run, partner. I wouldn’t want to be on the other end of that gaze.”

Arthur heard this and shot him daggers too. It was much less intimidating on your face than his, but it shut the man up all the same. He walked straight to you and took your arm. “We’re leaving.”

You yanked it away. “Hold on, now. I just got here.”

He stepped in close, still so much shorter than you that you almost had to duck to hear. “Don’t go making a scene,” he hissed.

“I ain’t,” you said quietly. Then, leaning back on the bar, “Besides, I got a new friend over there.” You held the woman’s eyes who had called out to you, smiling in that charming way Arthur could.

“Quit it,” he said, drawing your attention back to him. “Those women’ll eat you alive.”

“Maybe I’d like that,” you mumbled, just loud enough that he heard.

“Are you insane?”

“No,” you said, turning around to face the bar, speaking lowly so no one would hear. “And like you ain’t thought about it.”

“About what?”

“About sex. About how it would feel in my body.”

You swore you saw a tinge of redness on your own face. But Arthur charged through his embarrassment like a bull. “No, I ain’t thought about it. This ain’t my body to do what I please with.”

You scoffed. “Now isn’t the time for chivalry, my friend. This is a once in a lifetime gig. You really want to waste it?”

He sighed, tugging on your arm, pulling you toward the door. “Come on.”

You gave in, knowing it was better than letting Arthur cause a scene. As much as he liked to claim you would be the one to do it, you knew damn well it would be him attracting all the attention. And now that he was sporting around a woman’s body, he could slap you as hard as he liked without consequence. You weren’t about to give him the chance.

“Where we going, then?” you asked when you passed through the swinging doors. Your horse was hitched beside Arthur’s, calm once more. You went up to love on it only to see the animal cut you a sideways glance, pinning its ears. You had momentarily forgotten. “Give my horse a little love, would you? Doesn’t like other people.”

“Pipe down with all that,” Arthur spat. You rolled your eyes. Like anyone in this town would ever have the brain power to realize you and Arthur had switched bodies. “Here,” Arthur said, feeding your horse a treat and giving it a few pats on the neck. “Now then, I say we head back to figure out where that wind came from. We don’t know how long we could be stuck like this if we leave it be.”

You groaned aloud then stopped yourself, knowing how wrong it sounded coming from Arthur. “Why you gotta be so uptight about this? Let’s let loose, have a little fun.”

“I don’t think you’re getting how serious this is.”

“I am. It happened. And it could just as easily un-happen. Relax, would you?”

He sighed in frustration before lowering his voice. “You want to be me so bad? Fine. But I’m getting a room and locking you in it so you don’t get us both killed.”

“I won’t get us killed, Arthur. Since when don’t you trust me?”

“Since you decided to parade me around like that,” he snapped. “Since you started making eyes at other women. You don’t know what the hell you’re doing.”

Like hell you didn’t. “Fine,” you said, storming away from him. Your longer stride had him struggling to keep up with you as you made for the mail courier.

“Where you going now?” he asked, your voice taking on a desperate edge.

You didn’t answer, treating him like he always treated you. It was enormously satisfying.

You stepped up to the window and asked for a room, throwing your money down on the counter. It took one look of your pointed anger for the man before you to cower. Damn, did you wish you could make people shrink like that on a regular basis. You rounded, pushing through Arthur like he wasn’t even there. This body had its advantages. You were beginning to understand why Arthur wanted it back so badly.

You stole upstairs and pushed in the door. You were halfway to slamming it in Arthur’s face when he caught it, your own fragile little hand catching on the edge.

“Excuse me?” he said, pushing through it and shutting it behind him. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“You,” you said, sitting down on the bed and turning away from him to shake off some of your anger. “Treating me like a damn child. You never do that.”

“I’m not- I don’t mean to be that way. There’s just…a lot at stake.”

“Yeah, your precious body. I get it.”

“No, it ain’t that.” He sighed, an exaggerated sound. He didn’t talk for so long you looked at him. He had your hands resting on your gun belt like he always did to his. He finally met your eye and said slowly, “I just don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

You scoffed. “What, with that woman back in the saloon? Arthur, you know I’m not that stupid.”

He hesitated. “So you didn’t…”

You narrowed your eyes. His eyes. “Seriously?”

“What?”

You shook your head, turning away again, getting one of Arthur’s guns out to admire it. To take your mind off the idiot at your back. “I’d just turned the woman down before you got there. If that’s what’s bothering you.”

“That’s not…” Arthur said, trailing off. Obviously not wanting to breach the subject of you using his body for your own pleasure.

You relieved him of the burden. “Just drop it. I’ll stay here locked up like a good girl, and we’ll go figure this out in the morning.”

He had the audacity to laugh, and you shot him a sideways glance. He was smirking, your mouth angled upward sharply. “For the love of god, don’t call yourself a good girl in my body. It sounds ridiculous.”

You couldn’t help the corner of your mouth turning upward in response. It was comical how different you were, the glaring differences coming out in speech and mannerism and thought.

“I am a good girl,” you grumbled, and he told you to quit it while laughing outright this time. The sound of your own laughter was strange, like something you had only ever heard muffled before. Now that it was clear and unobstructed, it was smooth. Pretty. It made you smile.

Arthur pointed to the weapon still in your hands. “Put that away, would you? Don’t want you getting any ideas.”

The small weight in your hands was so strange—you had held one of Arthur’s guns before. His were much improved from a regular Cattleman and heavier as a result. But his hands swamped the weapon now, and it felt as light as your own as you cradled it, the power in your hands alone remarkable.

You tucked the gun back in its holster, laying back on the bed. Well, attempting to. “Shit.” You looked to your feet hanging over the edge.

Arthur chuckled. “Move up some. You’ll get used to it.”

You did as he said before eyeing him. He had nowhere to sit.

“You, uh…can sit, or…”

He waved you off. “I’m fine. Thinking about going for a beer. You want one?”

You lit up at that. “You ain’t locking me up then?”

“Oh no, I definitely am. I meant I’ll bring one back for you if you want.”

You scoffed, turning away. Even that slight motion had the bed groaning beneath you from the weight of his body. “Forget it.”

He just laughed, like it was the funniest thing in the world.

“You know, you’re damn lucky I listen to you. Otherwise I’d be down at that saloon with my tongue down some poor girl’s throat by now.”

You met his eye just quick enough to see the blush on your face he tried to hide. “No you wouldn’t.” He was right. You weren’t that kind of woman, really. But such a dramatic change had rendered you enlivened, if a little reckless.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, turning away again. “Bring me a beer then.”

You heard the door snap shut and closed your eyes, noting every inch of unfamiliar body lying flat on the bed. You felt a sudden surge of jealousy so harsh, wishing for a heartbeat you had been born a man. Then again, that might have been because you were attracted to men. Enamored by their muscled bodies, their strength. Arthur was certainly those things. You had never quite thought of him as someone you were attracted to. Partially because he was such an annoying fool, but mainly because you had never allowed yourself to think it. Your friendship was a good thing in a hard life, and you didn’t want to wreck it. That didn’t stop you from wanting to explore every inch of his body.

You let that thought swirl away before it could do any damage, thinking instead of how exactly this had all come about in the first place. A lightning storm in broad daylight. You had no doubt it was what the little poem on the map alluded to.

See the sight Utter the word With blinding light It will be heard

The lightning had struck the moment you and Arthur said ‘why.’ The only thing you couldn’t understand was how on earth that rendered your consciousnesses switched. Maybe that was the joke—the why of it all. Whoever had penned that map was a cruel person indeed.

How you hadn’t died upon contact was another thing entirely. Almost as if the lightning had never really existed in the first place. Maybe you were imagining it all, still knocked out cold on the ground. Or dead. That soured your mood enough that you went back to thinking about Arthur’s body. At least it was a more pleasant thing to consider.

Your curiosity got the better of you, and you reached downward, skimming against coarse muscle all the way down. Christ, did he have to be built so powerfully? Years of work and being on the run tended to instill strength in a man, but this was ridiculous.

You brushed those thick fingers of his against the top edge of his pants, hesitating, debating touching what you really wanted to touch on him. It would be overstepping, you knew. The man had a right to some privacy. But god, did you want to know what every aspect of being a man felt like. Desperately. So you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching down, touching the still clothed part of him that immediately reacted to the contact of his heavy hand. Reacted in a way that made you loose a breath the very second you heard the door handle turn. You panicked, scrambling to throw your too-long legs over the side of the bed and sit up. You watched your body step back into the room, Arthur’s suspicion edging onto your face when he saw how quickly you had moved.

“Forgot to…get my money from you,” he said with narrowed eyes, nodding toward the satchel wrapped around you.

“Oh,” you said, entirely too eager to use the excuse to move and cover your blunder. You reached in his satchel and fingered through countless things you couldn’t put a name to. The bills were stuck in the bottom and you dragged them out, handing them over in a too-clenched first. Arthur eyed the money, then you.

“What?” you asked. You knew better. Really should have stayed quiet.

“Why you acting so funny?”

“I’m not.” You prayed it came off as relaxed, though you couldn’t be sure how it would look on Arthur’s face.

“Really?” he said, entirely unconvinced. “Why’d you jump a mile when I came in then?”

You felt your face heat. You looked away, tipping his hat down to hide your blush.

“I know that move,” he said accusatorially. “Tell me.”

You took a long breath, not knowing what the hell to say. What could you? I was in the middle of touching you, Arthur? In the middle of doing something you just told me you wouldn’t dare do to my body without permission? It was wrong, and you knew it. You couldn’t tell him.

He broke the silence, stepping toward you. “Tell me.” It was every bit Arthur, that commanding presence he held coming through your own voice somehow. It made you cower further, if that was even possible. It was…ungodly attractive, him wielding your body like his very own weapon. Demanding.

The thought had your blood rushing downward, much like it did in your own body. But this was different. This was all-consuming, blocking all thought. And when his manhood began to strain against his pants—your pants—you panicked and spoke.

“Forget it,” you said, still hiding your face, trying to calm yourself down. It was impossible. All you could think about was the need building within you, worse than you’d ever felt as a woman as it couldn’t seem to be reversed. You didn’t know how obvious it would be to adjust yourself in front of him but felt the need to. Or else he would notice exactly what was plaguing you before you could say another word.

He stepped toward you suddenly, and you moved to wave him off. “I’m fine, I-” Too much movement. Entirely too much. Your pants brushed against you, and you grew harder still. Goddamn did it feel so strange, so different, but the desire to make it go away was getting hard to fight off. You knew why too, and you didn’t want to admit it to yourself, though the thought flashed through your mind anyway—Arthur’s body. This was Arthur’s body, and the fact that he was so aroused somehow turned you on. Which in turn resulted in your predicament worsening every second. You let out a shaky breath.

He laughed, the sound out of place enough for you to finally meet his eye. He was staring at your pants, at his own crotch. He knew.

“Dead to rights, I’m afraid,” he said. “I weren’t gone a minute. You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

Shame filled every inch of you. “I didn’t- it’s worse now than it-”

He held up a hand, making your words fall away. “Save it. I ain’t mad. Should have figured, really, how you were talking at the bar.”

“I’m sorry,” you said desperately. “It’s your body, like you said. Ain’t up to me to do as I please with it.”

He chuckled, that charming smile of his somehow working its way onto your face. “It’s fine. You’re just…” He shook his head. “As I said, I should have figured. You being you.”

You normally would have jumped at him over saying that but couldn’t, not when your words were suddenly lodged in your throat. Because he was fine with this. He was okay with you touching him. And the thought had more arousal than before consuming you, enough that your focus was blurring between him in your body and you in his.

He started. “I’ll, uh, leave you be if-”

“No, don’t do that,” you said in a panic.

You watched a smile curve up the side of your face. “What, can’t keep your hands to yourself when I’m away?”

“God, don’t talk like that,” you breathed.

“Why? Turn you on?”

To keep your jaw from dropping, you grabbed his hat and rammed it down farther, hiding your beet red face behind it. Christ alive.

He laughed and moved to the door. “I’m gonna step out. Do whatever you need to, I don’t mind.”

“No.” You were firm on that. You had already overstepped once. You wouldn’t do it again. No matter how much you wanted to.

You looked over at him. He stood at the door, your body so calm and still like only he could make it. He looked at you expectantly, and you realized he was waiting on you to say something, to explain.

“Can you…” You couldn’t finish that question.

“Can I what?” His smile was wicked, your face carved up with it.

“Jesus, Arthur, why do you have to make this so hard?”

“Make what hard? You?”

There was nothing within arms reach to throw, but if there had been, he would already be ducking. He sensed this and kept talking through a laugh. “All right, all right. Relax. I’m just needling you.” He stepped closer. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know. Make it go away.”

He smiled, smugness mixed with a bit of shyness. “I can make it go away all right. But…you sure you want that?”

You panicked slightly. You meant go away as in help calm yourself, not help find your release. But now that he was offering…

“Yes,” you said, so quietly his low voice almost didn’t speak it. You couldn’t believe you admitted it, uttered it aloud.

He gave you a long, unreadable look. Then, after long enough that you were holding your breath, “Okay then.” He stepped forward slowly, his sheepishness finally seeming to catch up to him. “You want…me to show you or…”

Your heart thrummed. “No.” It was in that very moment you knew what you wanted. That it became glaringly real between you—finding your pleasure not only as Arthur, but with Arthur.

You reached for him and were pulling your own body down on top of you before you could form another thought. He made a noise of surprise, but you didn’t hesitate. Not when the weight of him landed atop you and you had to resist the urge to buck your hips into the newfound pressure.

He couldn’t say a word before you crashed your lips to his, keeping your eyes shut tight all the while. You didn’t want to think about kissing your own mouth, only that this was Arthur you were kissing, that maybe you had been wanting to do this all along. Under more normal circumstances.

He broke away. “You…”

“Just shut up,” you said, the low timbre of Arthur’s voice rumbling through your chest as you pulled him to you, kissing him so forcefully his hat fell off your head.

He pulled back again, unable to resist running his mouth. “This is…so strange.” And it was. It was odd to feel yourself against you, but you couldn’t care. Not when this was Arthur’s body reacting so sensitively to it. You wanted to touch yourself, to feel how to wring each ounce of pleasure from him. But you didn’t—couldn’t—because you had pulled him down on top of you, and Arthur started moving back and forth against your thigh. It drove you wild.

You looked down and watched as he propped himself up, making your mouth fall open in his pleasure. Maybe it was because you knew exactly what that would feel like rocking against him, but you felt your—his—cock twitch in response, straining. You couldn’t take it anymore.

You used your newfound strength and flipped him underneath you, surprised to feel how weightless you were under his touch. You laid against him and moved. And god, was it your undoing.

Your mouth found his as you kissed him unforgivingly, grinding against him. The immediate arousal was unshakable. Lightning to the touch. Winding you up so tight you groaned, the sound coming out ragged and deep.

“Easy,” he said, your own breathy voice sounding right into your mouth. “If you want to last, that is.”

That made you hesitate. “You want…me to-”

“Do what you want, I’m just saying,” he interrupted. That was a terrible answer. Because it left it up to you. And as it stood, you wanted to feel each and every way a man could pleasure a woman.

“You sure?” you asked softly. And Arthur’s voice saying those words…

“Yes, I’m sure. And faster than this. Your body has needs too, you know.”

You kissed him, biting his lip for the cheek. He let out a low moan in return.

You continued to grind against him but held yourself up with one strong hand, trailing your fingers down his skin. “I can teach you something about those needs,” you said lowly. Every caress of Arthur’s aroused voice on your ears sent grating pleasure shooting downward.

You moved down and tore your own gun belt away, then your pants, knowing these were the pair that were baggy enough to do it. You made to pleasure your own body beneath your underthings, to make Arthur squirm beneath you, when he spoke.

“I know how to pleasure a woman just fine-” You had brought your thumb down on your clit. And Arthur let his head fall back, his eyes shutting tight. Your thumb was now noticeably bigger, but that didn’t stop you from knowing what to do with it. You dragged it around torturously slow, making his—your—chest heave and fall. You brought your mouth down to your clothed nipple. Normally, this would feel like an odd thing to do, but for some reason it seemed like any other thing. You didn’t care that it was your body. You cared that it was Arthur you were showing all this pleasure to. Arthur taking it all, Arthur helping you find an edge you were dangerously near.

You sat up and tore the rest of your clothes away, leaving him completely bare. You watched as Arthur looked down, admiring you. His head fell against the bed once more as he groaned softly, his hand moving toward your entrance. You wanted that so badly his cock strained again. You wanted to watch him touch you, watch what he would do to you.

You bent down and pressed a kiss to his arm in encouragement. Then he brought his hand low, finally running his fingers along right where you wanted him to. The image of you touching yourself was doing something to Arthur’s body you couldn’t contain. Wild, unbridled need. But that was Arthur’s mouth going slack when he felt your wetness on his fingers, Arthur reveling in how you felt because of him.

You let him do as he wanted and kissed him again, wanting to feel him against you. You knew better than to move your hips against him now—you were wound tight as a coil, and doing so would end this quickly.

He broke away from your kiss, having to take a breath when he began pumping his fingers in and out of you. You went for his neck instead, kissing and licking and mouthing. You wanted him to find his pleasure, wanted him to feel what an orgasm was like in a woman’s body for the sole reason that you could bring him to that precipice over and over and over again—something he couldn’t do quite as fast being a man.

You took his mouth again, demanding. Wanting to work him up into an irreversible need. You knew just what your body craved and knew how to get him there. So you refused to let him away from your mouth, especially when you brought your hand down to drag his own away, using Arthur’s fingers instead. They were bigger, and he let out a moan right into your mouth when you sunk two in at once, right down to the knuckle.

He was trying to breathe, trying to keep his head, but you kept kissing him, pushing his head down into the bed in your fervor. You pumped your fingers in and out slowly, dragging them against your walls just like you liked it. You wished you could feel this yourself, his thick fingers inside of you.

He mumbled something incomprehensible, so you let him take a breath, pulling away just so.

He was a flustered mess. His breathing was heavy, his eyes were blown wide with desire, and damn it all if you couldn’t see Arthur below the surface. Because you could, his mannerisms making you want to take him then and there when they sprawled across your face in deep need.

“What was that?” you said, curling your fingers just right, dragging them slowly still.

“You’re gonna…make me…”

“Come all you want,” you told him. He groaned. You kissed him once more, your tongue tangling with his.

You knew yourself well enough to know you were close, but this wouldn’t get you there. So you quickened your pace, pressing deeper, his beautiful fingers doing more than yours could.

He was panting then, something you didn’t normally do. All Arthur, his pleasure on the brink. So you let his mouth be and ducked your head, latching your mouth around your own nipple in a way that had his back arching. You ran your tongue against him, a slight scrape of your teeth. All the while, you fucked your fingers in deep and fast. Then faster. Then harder. Until you noticed his hands had clasped around your veined forearm, holding on for some kind of tether to keep him from losing himself entirely.

You worked your breast with his tongue, scraping a demanding pull against it, and he snapped.

He let out an exasperated noise somewhere between a feminine moan and and all-out groan. Definitely Arthur. You had never made that noise in your life. The lines between you were blurring.

You released your hold on your breast and watched him, watched your face screw up in pleasure in a way that only he could make it look. You kept pace, using your hand to work him over thoroughly. And you suddenly understood how good this was, making a woman reach her pleasure first. Waiting, basking in this, it was the perfect thing for you right now in the needy state you were in.

He moaned and panted and moved against you but took it all, wanting it all. How strange it must feel, after years of a man’s pleasure. How much more delicate and precise it was.

You finally brought your hand away, smirking at him. “How was that?”

“This was supposed to be about helping you,” he said breathlessly.

“And?”

“And that was goddamn perfect.”

“Good. I do know my own body well. Which is why this,” you said, setting the pad of his thick thumb back to your clit. He squirmed, still coming down from his high. “Is going to make you see stars.”

You moved your thumb, and he let out another groan too deep for your voice. You swirled fast shapes, criss-crossing against that sensitive nub. He was panting and writhing and trying to get away from your touch, and you boxed him in and held his lower body down. It was harsh pleasure, enough that you could almost feel it yourself. You certainly wanted to, if you ever got your body back. Now he knew the ropes. Or you would happily show them to him a second time.

In half a minute, he was so close that you got your balance right and plunged the fingers of your other hand inside, pumping fast as you worked him with your thumb. He yelled this time—actually yelled out his pleasure. And it was your own high-pitched moan that filled the room, something rougher about it. Baser. You continued your abuse of him until he was writhing to get away, whining each breath.

“There,” you said low, his own voice making you ache with desire. You slowed down your pace before finally withdrawing your hands.

You knew what came next, and you were…well, nervous. You knew what your body liked, but this next bit would be your own pleasure swallowing you whole. In an entirely unfamiliar sense.

He heaved in each breath, eyes heavy-lidded. “You’re telling me…you can feel that…as many times as you want.”

“Back to back,” you assured him. “I can make you do it again if you-”

“No,” he said, grabbing your hands to be sure you wouldn’t. “No,” he said more calmly. Then, “Your turn.”

He turned, forcing you to lie on your back. Your nerves flared when you watched him reach for your clothes. But just as you had, he knew what he was doing with his own body. You just got to sit back and watch.

He didn’t bother undressing you entirely, just stripped his satchel and gun belt, unbuttoned his pants and pulled them back along with his undergarments. And you watched with bated breath as he prepared to touch you for the first time, or touch himself, and god, you couldn’t think which was hotter. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was when your tiny hand finally wrapped around his cock. The touch alone was enough to send pleasure through your veins so severe you knew you would have to pace yourself. Then he grabbed your hand, pulling it down slowly. He wrapped it around that impressive length of his, now so achingly hard you had to clench your jaw, and wrapped his own hand around yours. Guiding you.

“Move slow,” he said quietly. His words drew your eyes, and you noted him straddling you before your gaze landed on your small hand around his big one, beginning to stroke his cock together. The sight alone would be your undoing. But the feel of it…

Your head fell back with that image branded into your memory as you stroked yourself. He guided you in pressure more than pace. And you understood better how to keep from hurting a man, being too harsh or too rough against his skin. It was hedonism. Where a woman’s pleasure was finicky but explosive when found, a man’s pleasure was immediate. Constant. Unbearable.

You groaned aloud. Arthur was quieter, less forceful than you had been with him. You couldn’t tell if it was because his body preferred it that way or if he was nervous to bring you to that edge. Either way, it was…torturously good.

He guided you along a little faster, making deep, long strokes all the way down to his base. That was where it felt the best. You tucked that piece of information away. He went faster still, and you pulled your hand away to keep your climax at bay, making him stop and look at you.

“I…want to do this proper.”

His eyes glittered with arousal. You didn’t know how he would feel about it, being on the receiving end. But you wanted to bury his cock so deep inside you he would cry out from it. That much you knew.

He took a moment to answer. Then, “If that’s what you want.”

“What do you want?” you asked. “You’ve been quiet about that.”

He thought on it. Then climbed over you, lining your body up with his. “You really wanna know?”

You nodded, the anticipation eating you alive. For his touch and his words.

“I want my body back. So I can show you all this pleasure myself.”

You clenched your jaw again, your breath quickening. Lord above, did you want that. So much.

“Me too,” you said quietly.

“Really?” he asked, his hand finding you and lining you up with him.

You tried hard to keep focus and watch him as you nodded. “Maybe I…have for a while.” And you had been too damn stubborn to admit it to yourself. Too worried about friendship and lines crossed.

He hesitated. “Me too.” He said it quieter than you had.

Without leaving you any room to answer, he sat, the feeling of pressing into him unlike anything. Your mind went numb. Blank. You looked down and watched where your bodies met, watched him hesitate for a breath before sitting fully, throwing his head back in pleasure when you were joined completely.

Again, it was different. Whereas you would have only wanted him as deep as possible in your body, every inch of you was overcome with feeling now. It was grating.

Arthur started a pace that was much too fast for all you were feeling, so you brought your hands to his hips and slowed him down.

“Move like this,” you whispered, helping him grind slowly back to front, so that his cock never left that sweet spot deep within you.

He fell forward, chasing his pleasure. Then slowed to look at you, almost apologetically.

“It’s okay,” you told him. “Find your pleasure first. I won’t stand this for long.”

It was true. You wanted to bury his cock deep, spill in your body. The thought alone made him twitch.

Arthur continued his brutal grind, making you groan so deep you worried you would come. But you held yourself back, barely. And he was making smaller movements, slowing, taking all of you in a way you knew meant his release was nearing.

You wanted to touch him again, kiss him, but you let him be. You knew how good it felt just the way he was circling his hips and nothing more. So you resisted, and you watched as your own mouth fell open in deep pleasure. Arthur came a third time. It wasn’t like the others. He came around you this time, the smallest tightening and fluttering of those delicate muscles of yours making you hold your breath so as not to find your own pleasure. He was soon panting, moaning, beautiful little sounds. Sounds you wanted to make for him.

He finally stopped, leaning back. “My god.”

“What?” Your hands moved from his hips to his ass. That was an odd thing—almost like Arthur’s body had wanted that, not you.

“Just…different. Perfect.”

You smiled at him, keeping your patience held by a thread. Still buried deep in him, that was quite the task. He seemed to realize this and looked down at you, and before you knew you wanted to say them, words came tumbling out of you. “I want to know what it feels like to…find my pleasure inside of you.”

He scrunched your eyebrows together in an expression only he ever made.

“Just this once,” you whispered.

He was silent a moment. Then, “You sure about that?”

“I’m willing to risk it. If you are.”

He thought again, eyes studying his own mouth. Finally, he met your gaze. “All right then.”

You felt the smile creep over your face, your giddiness returning. Faster than he could react, you had lifted his hips, pulling him off of you. He made a small noise at the movement—one you knew well, the feeling of loss of touch a bitter thing—but you were too busy moving him underneath you to care. You laid him softly on the bed, taking a moment to see those eyes of yours on you, before getting up. You started stripping his clothes away, needing to finish this completely bare. You brought his shirt away first, the broad chest beneath such a handsome sight. Then his boots and socks, then pants. You couldn’t get his layers away fast enough, and when you were standing there staring down at yourself completely bare, you hesitated. His body was beautiful. His strong legs, his lean muscle, his cock pressed up against his belly. You couldn’t resist—you took his length in hand and began stroking him. It was so good you held back a groan. You looked up to crawl back onto the bed but found him watching, an expression of such greedy want on your own face that you couldn’t resist saying something. “Like watching me do this to you?” you said lowly, making your strokes longer, more noticeable.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving your hand around his manhood.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered, crawling back over him. Needing him now. “When we get our bodies back, it’ll be my own hand wrapped around you.”

He moaned. You laughed, the sound low and sensual. Finally, you were lining yourself up with him, the head of his cock pushing against your entrance.

He brought a hand to your shoulder. “Slow.”

“You keep saying that,” you teased, pushing into him. You wanted to be quick about it, to fuck him senseless, but you would do as he asked. You sank into him to the hilt, buried deep. Even though you’d just felt it, it was so good you stopped a moment, taking it in. You brought your head up and gave him a soft kiss, holding his eye for a breath. Then you moved. God above, was the pleasure insurmountable when you moved. Your walls wrapped around his cock so tight you kept letting out involuntary groans.

“Goddamn,” you breathed, bringing one hand to his hip, one to the back of his thigh. It took everything in you to keep the pace slow. Tortuously slow.

Arthur was not without his own pleasure too. His breathing was labored, the sounds he was letting out not unlike the ones you usually made. It made you want to slam into him, make him come around you again.

“Arthur,” you groaned. In warning. He didn’t answer. “Please let me fuck you.”

“Think you can handle that?” he said. Always a damn tease.

“Yes, you bastard.”

He laughed, the sound so like his own for it being in your voice. “Do it then.”

The second he said it, you pounded in deep, making him cry out. Making you grit your teeth. It was so good you couldn’t stand it. You quickened your pace and thrust into him hard, finally allowing your orgasm to build. And build. And consume you whole. You knew nothing but pleasure, like it was a part of you, as you fucked him harshly. You felt his balls go taught, his cock so hard and so sensitive inside your slick that you were letting your own noises work their way into Arthur’s voice.

“Fuck,” Arthur breathed. Then he cried out, and you only knew he reached his pleasure for the familiar way your body went rigid, arching into his. You pounded into him, riding him through it, finally flying over the edge. Your orgasm overcame you in a rush of burning pleasure as you felt his spend spill deep inside. You slammed into him, unmoving. It was the best feeling you’d ever known. All of it drawn out right where you needed it most.

You held there breathlessly, pressed against him so intimately that the moment seemed frozen in time. But there he was, a mess beneath his own body. Because of his own body. Your cunt greedily taking his spend like it was meant to be there.

You groaned at the thought and pulled out, collapsing on your front beside him. So overwhelmed you just breathed, in and out. To remember what fucking planet you were on.

You closed your eyes, listening to his heavy breathing beside you. And after a moment, you were staring at the ceiling. No, you hadn’t moved. You opened your eyes and turned over, and Arthur was staring at the ceiling. That was off-putting. Like you had been yourself again for a heartbeat. You closed your eyes again to see if it would have the same effect, but nothing came to you. Only darkness and the after effects of one demanding high. That was strange too, different. How differently the male body worked, even the come down settling within you deep and constant. Maybe that was why women could bounce back so fast, men needing time to do it. In fact, you even felt tired, like nothing would suit your more than a good night’s rest. Arthur was likely the same. You had made him find his pleasure four times. Four times. You allowed yourself to wonder, just for a moment, if he could do that to you himself. You knew your own body well enough to get you to that place, but now he did too. You were willing to bet if this ever happened again, each of you in your respective bodies, that it would be just as mind-blowing as this had been. Maybe better.

“You okay?”

Your own voice was soft, careful in the dim room. From timidness or from tiredness, you couldn’t be sure.

You opened your eyes to find your face staring back at you, gaze heavy with satisfaction.

“More than okay.” You closed your eyes again. You wanted to be saying those words to Arthur. To his face, not yours. “You?”

“Hell, okay doesn’t cover it. That was…”

“Yeah,” you breathed, the word deep and drawn out. You adjusted yourself, facing him. “I’m sorry I sort of…forced this on you.”

He met your eye again, his own careful expression shining through. “You didn’t force anything.”

“I really did. But, you did too, cornering me like that. You just had to know what was wrong, didn’t you?” you said, grinning at him.

“I’m always that way,” he countered. “What’s your excuse?” He was the one grinning now.

You didn’t have a retort to that, knowing full well there wasn’t one. You had wanted him. Plain and simple.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, and you gave him a small shove for it. It was a little too forceful coming from his strong hand, but he didn’t seem to mind, laughing at you instead. “You like being me, huh? Get to show me who’s boss, shove me around. Pin me down and such.”

The and such part was definitely a plus. But he was wrong about the first part. You met his eye, emboldened by his confidence. “I’ll get my body back, and we’ll see who’s boss.”

“Will we now?” he said, meeting your eye with a mischievous gleam in his own. As a woman, you would have wanted to wipe that gleam away, to climb right back on top of him. But you were tired and satisfied now, and some small part of you still ached from that lightning strike. All you wanted was to curl him against you and sleep.

“We will,” you said, turning and closing your eyes again. For the briefest of seconds, you were looking at Arthur’s relaxed face. Then you came to, still facing the ceiling. If you couldn’t get settled in one body or the other, you would go mad soon.

“What are we gonna do about this?” he asked.

You hummed, not quite in a mood to talk about it now. “Leave it for the morning.”

He chuckled beside you, his laugh through your voice. It was soothing in a way that had you drifting, somewhere between restfulness and sleep. You stayed like this a long time. He eventually said something else, something about lightning, but you gave in to his body’s want and flung over the edge of unconsciousness, unraveling into thought and darkness alone.

You awoke to a warm body beside you. The memories of the day prior came flooding back like a tidal wave, slapping you into alertness. You jerked up to find yourself looking at Arthur. He was looking back, those blue eyes studying you, a smile below them.

“Welcome back.”

You were in your own body. You looked down—still naked, and wrapped up in Arthur’s arms. “I…” You didn’t know what to say.

“I woke up like this too. Myself, I mean. Seems the little lightning strike had a shelf life.”

You couldn’t believe…it couldn’t have been that easy. It couldn’t have all been real. More than that, this couldn’t be your closest friend holding you in his arms.

“You…that did happen, right? I’m not insane?”

He chuckled, the sound a perfect one coming from him this time. “No, you ain’t. Or else we both are.”

“Shit,” you said, turning onto your back. The strangeness of it all…it overwhelmed you. But that didn’t stop you from noticing where Arthur’s hand had landed after your movement. On your bare belly. You looked down at it, and he must have noticed, because his fingers started running circles against your skin, low enough that a familiar heat began building within you.

He leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “What was that you were saying about when we got our bodies back?”

The male smugness in those words…

You pulled him down atop you, kissing him hard. It was everything you wanted, everything you had been lacking the night before. The desire had been there, the mutual need, but this was different. Perfect. It was him atop you, him running his hand down your body, him wanting you as normal as ever. Nothing standing in the way. And you nearly smiled against his mouth at your next thought, when those strange trees crossed your mind—you would get struck by lightning ten times over just to be in his arms. To be you. To be exactly what he wanted.

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