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#also that was such a good fucking trip i look back at it so fondly now :')
silentium-symphony · 8 months
Text
Spoiled Rotten (Link x Reader) SMUT
(a/n) needed a break from now watch me whip, so here's some smut :) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
i didn’t really mean to make a sequel for Starved, it just kinda happened 💀 can def stand alone tho! i don't typically write a dominant reader, but i had a lot of fun trying smth new :) i hope you enjoy ♡
cw: afab!reader, mentioned somnophilia (like one line), swearing, nice and fluffy in the beginning, ya'll being absolute BRATS to each other oml, taking turns dominating the other :), link once again having the dirtiest mouth in the world, spreading you on all fours, riding link like the gorgeous stallion he is
wc: 5.8k
♤♢ ~~ ♡♧
Passerine warbles teased your consciousness from the lands of slumber to the realm of morning. A curtain of colors whisped behind your eyelids and you felt the warmth of the sunbeam conveniently placed on your eyes; cracking them open a smidgen spelled the death of your pupils as you were immediately blinded by its solar glory.
Your head lulled to the side, still very much weighted by sleep, and came face-to-face with your lightly snoring husband. His golden brows were pulled into a relaxed arch, no longer featuring a drawn, terse look. His cheeks, smushed into the pillow, slotted perfectly in your hand and you stroked them fondly. A soft moan left him and you could feel the little bits of tension in his jaw disappear completely. Looking further down, you saw his neck and chest littered with hickeys galore; your lips tingled hotly.
You lifted the arm that was dangled loosely over your waist with great care, gauging his expression for any hint of discomfort or arousal. You were genuinely shocked he didn't slug his arm over you and hug you tighter as he normally would. While setting his arm down in front of you, you saw bright red scratch marks running up and down his arms. Highlights of last night pervaded your mind and it took a considerable amount of mental fortitude to not start grinding against his bare member. Additionally, thinking about how he abused your cunt with his incessant pounding started to fill you up with post-orgasm sleepiness--not what you wanted when you were trying to get out of bed.
And he did all that right after he got back. Y'know... It makes sense why he'd be knocked out.
Your lips ghosted atop his twitching eyelids while you slinked out of bed and oNTO THE FLOOR OH SWEET HYLIA
A hand flew to the corner of your bedstand and you somehow managed to catch yourself before you ate shit. Link really diddly darn fucked you 'til your legs gave out, huh? Can't say you were complaining--
You hauled yourself up, your knees shivering and buckling from the arduous task of existing in an upright position. You scooted closer to your shared dresser, the smooth walls acting as support, and you slipped on one of Link's shirts. His scent wrapped around you comfortingly and was reminiscent of one of his hugs. There was also the added benefit of Link really liking you in his clothes--a fact you very much took advantage of.
With the wall still acting as your cane, you made the trepidatious trip to the kitchen.
♤♢ ~~ ♡♧
You balanced two plates of fried eggs and rice on a small wooden tray, complete with silverware, water, and two mug cakes! You managed to find the recipe haphazardly scribbled down on a random piece of parchment. You thought it looked delectable and hoped he thought the same.
You limped ambled your way to the bedroom and opened the old door as gingerly as possible.
Unluckily for you (and him, now that you thought about it), the wakeful tendencies stemming from the extreme sport of sleeping alone in the wilderness kicked in and his ears visibly twitched, disturbed by the softest sounds from across the room. He shuffled quickly and turned to you, his eyes still drooped with sleep.
"Mm... g'morn..." His nose quivered. "What smells so good...?"
"Breakfast!"
:O
:D
"Breakfast? In bed?" He could barely contain his excitement.
"Breakfast in bed!"
He sat up, propping and fluffing the pillows as you made your way over to him. He clapped and rubbed his hands in glee.
"Oh! Are those...?" The gears in Link's head buffered and churned.
"Mug cakes!" You set the tray down on his lap and saddled next to him.
"Mug cakes!!!" He returned your gleeful energy. "They look delicious, darling."
"Thank you, dear." You shoveled a fluffy mound of rice topped with an equally fluffy piece of egg in your mouth and sighed contently. He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek before dipping to your ear.
"Not as delicious as you though." He breathed, eyeing the plain white shirt hanging from your frame. You gasped at the sensation of heat tickling your neck and your palm connected with the backside of his head.
"Ow!" He pouted. "Unnecessary."
"J-Just eat the damn food!" Clearly flustered, you scraped more food into your mouth and promptly turned away from him. He laughed while smoothing out your bedhead before chowing down on the simple spread before him.
"How're you feeling? I'm sorry for being a bit... rough last night."
Good sir you almost broke my back and yours "a bit?"
He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. "Okay, fine, but my question still stands--how're you feeling?"
"I'm all right! My... Legs were pretty weak this morning." You shrunk, feeling Link's ego swell. You could practically feel the smirk on his face.
"Were you okay climbing out of bed this morning? You didn't fall, did you?"
You were so thankful he couldn't see the imaginary sweat beading down your brow.
"Nope! All good!"
"Glad to hear it."
Your conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence as you both relished in each other's company and the food. While you finished up the main dish, Link dipped his spoon into the gooey mug cake and almost kicked his feet in childlike joy.
"This is amazing! It tastes just like your hugs!"
Your heart simultaneously fluttered and melted into one big goop.
"Heheh... And what, good sir, do my hugs taste like?"
"Hm..." He leaned in and glomped onto you. "Warm... Soft... Sweet..."
While you were basking in his warm embrace, you didn't notice the sly hand sneaking for the hem of your shirt. Warm digits traced up your torso and cusped your breasts; a pleasurable chill shuddered through you.
"Tantalizing..." He husked, lowering you onto your back. "Enchanting..."
He showered your neck with gentle pecks and retraced the bruises and nips he planted on your skin the night before. Your arms wrapped loosely around him, pulling him closer. You could feel his dick begin to throb with heat.
"Mm... Link..."
Guuuurgle...
Oh.
He pulled away from you, light, innocent giggles bouncing between the two of you.
"Let's take our time today, okay?"
♤♢ ~~ ♡♧
After clearing breakfast and cuddling for an hour or so, you both finally got up and started your day. Link volunteered to wash the dirty dishes while you put away the... scattered clothes from last night. Tidying the room to your liking, you came down to meet your husband.
Whose got his lean, toned, battle-scarred back turned to you.
Your love marks from last night were due to join his never-ending collection of scars--at least for the coming weeks. A wicked smile crossed your lips and you stalked toward him, tiptoes feeling around the squeaky floorboards.
He soaped up the water some more and smiled at the bubbles that floated to his nose, humming a happy lil' tune, completely oblivious to your sinful intentions. As he dipped a plate into the soapy basin, arms wrapped around his torso and he felt something warm and soft trace his back and sides.
His next exhale caught in his throat and he sputtered... some type of exclamation. As quickly as it tensed, his sinewy muscles grew lax in your embrace, melting into your touch. He adored the way your mouth hungrily suctioned to his old scars and how divine it felt for your hands to caress him, rubbing soothing patterns into sore spots he never knew he had.
You worked your way up and brushed your lips along the still-fresh scratches on his shoulders. You painted them with tender, loving kisses as your hand drifted lower and lower...
"You're marked up so nicely for me..." Your fingers coasted the prominent bulge in his pants and he bit back a whine. "I'm going to have so much fun with you."
Hands spun his waist around and his eyes flew shut, fully expecting to feel your lips slam into his as you took him right then and there.
...?
Except... You didn't...?
His eyes cracked open to his beloved's absence, confounded. A bright, chirpy whistle had him swiveling his head for a double take and he saw you happily drying the dishes he washed. Like nothing happened.
"You okay, love?" You looked at him through your lashes. "You've got stars in your eyes."
Said eyes twitched.
♤♢ ~~ ♡♧
The sun was still high up in the sky when you finished torturing the poor man with your household chores. The door swung open; Link went out first, bucket and brush in hand, while you stayed at the door for just a moment longer. The open windows couldn't quite demonstrate the soul-cleansing power of the fresh winds and you relished the wind tugging through your hair. Your lungs expanded as much as they could, filling themselves with the scent of home-tinged wilderness, before breathing out.
Epona's happy nickers tickled your ears and you drew closer to the duo. Link was going through her sleek coat, brushing it of dirt and grime while you filled her troughs with fresh hay and clean water. You threw yourself onto Epona and gave her fluttering kisses on her snout and neck, singing praises into the ears of your equestrian friend and thanking her repeatedly for bringing Link back home safely.
Link, smiling, grabbed the bucket and left her stall.
"I'm gonna grab some more water."
You acknowledged him with a bright "mm" and turned your attention to Epona, who was lovingly nuzzling your neck. Your husband rounded the corner and disappeared behind your house--you waited a few moments.
Now was your chance.
You flew out of her stall and veered into your house, cramming as many apples as you could hold in your arms, and practically teleported back to her stall. The sweet mare let out the happiest whinny you've ever heard and pawed the ground with anticipation. You peered over your shoulder as you presented her her favorite treats and prayed to Hylia Link's bucket broke or something. Just... Please Goddess, stall him for a bit.
Link loves hates it when you tease him with the 'nonsense' of Epona liking you more. You remembered the first time you brought up such a notion and Link was quick to scoff at your claims, assuring you that he and Epona share a bond like no other. The sweet, sweet look on his face when Epona responded to your voice and not his that one time never left your mind. To add insult to injury, not only did she straight up ignore the blonde--she clopped away from Link and over to you, leaving her beloved rider in the literal and metaphorical dust. Link reverted back to silence for the rest of the day.
Besides! She works just as hard as Link in keeping Hyrule safe. She deserves all the treats in the world.
Epona made quick work of the bushel and pressed her snout to you for more. You laughed and gently pushed her away, kissing her nose as you did. You turned around, half-expecting to see your husband with a silly exasperated look on his face; no one. You rocked on your heels, keeping a steady stream of pats on Epona's neck as you craned yours to find your beloved. Where was he?
The familiar knot of worry pitted your stomach and, pressing one final nuzzle into Epona, left her stall. You followed the trail your love had taken several minutes ago, careening your neck around the corner. The well sat unattended and the bucket your husband carried laid on its side. You approached the scene carefully, your lips forming into a 'Link?'
A pair of hands dug into your waist; your vision whizzed into a blend of colors, the back of your house bleeding into the scene of a little alcove. You barely had time to think let alone scream before something hot and wet muffled your lips. Your assailant pressed you further into the wall, pinning your arms above your head and coasting his digits up your thigh. Link's handsome features flooded your view and you moaned into the kiss, feeling your core grow hot with need.
He moved himself between your legs and gyrated his clothed tip against your engorged and sensitive bud. Your lips pulled away with a pop and he busied himself tarnishing your neck once again, reinforcing the lighter bruises already beginning to fade and making new ones in previously unexplored spots. His pants grew uncomfortably tight as he listened to the pathetic whimpers dripping out of you.
"Shh..." A playful kiss lapped your collarbone. "Not so loud hun, someone might hear..."
You fussed and squirmed under his treatment, his mischievous, nippy kisses along your skin sending your thoughts into overdrive. You hadn't even noticed your hips rolling faster, sloppier against him as your heat craved that sweet friction. Link felt your juices seep through the thin fabric of his pants and moisten the head of his cock.
"Look at you, making a mess all over me..." He sang, nibbling the lobe of your ear.
His hands left your wrist to find solace at the back of your thighs. With a grunt, he hoisted you into a seated position and pressed his full weight against yours, nullifying any chance for escape. Your legs hung uselessly at his hips as he continued moving against you in both body and lip.
His mouth moved to capture the beginnings of your breasts, suckling the curve of your mound until your chest glistened with his spit. He looked up at you through trembling lashes, committing your hooded gaze, gaping mouth, and flushed cheeks to memory.
The tips of your toes grazed the ground as Link lowered you delicately before he not so delicately spun you round and slammed your front against the wall. The sudden impact knocked what was left of precious air out of your lungs and your brain roared, the organ already doubling over from a pleasure-kissed lightheadedness.
Calloused hands connected with the soft of your inner thighs, flowing it open and dragging a finger, slow and deliberate, across your clothed folds. You all but screamed his name, his previous warnings to keep it quiet muddling with lusty bliss. Wet, hot breaths on bits of your exposed back sent your eyes rolling into your head and you balled your fists at the thought of him taking you here and now.
You felt his weight leave your form and you waited with growing impatience for him to be rid of his clothes. Your eyes were still squinted shut as you whined, trying to push your rear against his tented crotch hungrily.
He's... further away than you expected. How big is this alcove...?
You looked over your shoulder, confusion meddling with your arousal, and caught a glimpse of blonde swaggering away from you as if nothing had happened.
Heart thundering, legs quivering, blood rushing, your bent frame crumbled in on itself as your knees gave out from under you.
"LINK!!!"
♤♢ ~~ ♡♧
Safe to say by the time dinner rolled around, the two of you could hardly look at each other and any attempts at making small talk felt like Ganon shooting his piss into your eyes. Any semblance of Link in your brain always ended up with him either railing you or you fucking him until collapse.
You looked up from your plate to grab the water pitcher before you and you could feel the darkness glimmering in his eyes, heavy with lust and frustration. Your thighs grinded against each other, hoping to satiate the growing need to stimulate yourself even if only a little.
You were one look away from pinning him onto the dining table and fucking him until he was a babbling, crying mess under you. Unbeknownst to you (not really), Link happened to share those same sentiments.
Hylia, you were so horny for each other and your skin felt aflamed by his absence. But... you'd be lying if you said you didn't find a sick pleasure in watching you and him squirm under each other's heavy gaze, seeing how long either of you could last before one of you bites the arrow and takes the other.
"(F/N)."
You jolted at the sound of your own name and looked up into Link's blown-out pupils and barely parted lips, moistened with spit. Not a word was spoken between the two bodies; a velvety darkness took hold of your chest and you absently felt your feet march over to your husband before locking lips with his in messy desperation. Your hands explored the warmth of his skin, rubbing the back of his shoulders, his face, his chest. With a small tug on your wrist, you fell into his lap and he steadied you with level hands. You rolled your hips against his aching cock, teasing his stiffness with every sultry sway.
His lips latched onto your shoulder and his teeth sunk into the soft flesh, feeling your body shiver against his. He moved in time with your motions, rocking you faster against his dick that sweltered with desire. His chair skitted back and his hands flew to your ass, squeezing the soft, plump flesh as he carried you to the bedroom. Your legs hugged his torso to keep yourself up as he blindly fumbled with the doorknob, impatience ticking both your features.
He swung the door open, the shockwave from the sudden slam knocking down whatever trinket or picture was hanging on the wall. You paid little mind to the clamor of knick-knacks as Link tripped onto the bed, his back sinking into the soft mattress and you adding to his weight. You braced your hands on the sides of his head while his found your hips, fondling and diveting the soft flesh.
Languid lips moved with his before traveling towards his jawline and down to the soft skin of his neck, lapping it with butterfly kisses. A shaky breath all but stopped at the base of his throat as he saw you trail red, hot pecks along the dip of his shoulder and down to his chest, assaulting his lust-stricken senses with a campaign of pleasure. You looked up at him teasingly, swirling the tip of your tongue about his perked nipple.
Link's eyes fluttered close as a breathy sigh left him, his hips bucking wildly against your own. He tried so hard to catch his breath, but every roll, every graze, everything flared a white flame throughout his core. His mind was slipping, he could feel it, but by the gods did he do his damnest to savor every little sensation he would feel tonight.
Your hands quickly discarded your undergarments and flew to the hem of your shirt, tossing it aside like you've done hundreds of times before. Link followed suit, doing the extra step of lifting his hips (you still on top) to shimmy his pants off. He kicked the offending fabric off the bed and you both sighed, enjoying the pleasurable tingles the cool night air brought to your hottest spots. You lifted yourself and slowly rubbed your folds all over him, drinking in his dirty mewls like it would be the last thing you tasted. Something dark snapped into your husband's eyes as a hand left your hip to cruelly flick your sensitive bundle of nerves.
A whine lapsed out of your mouth and you bobbed your dripping cunt up and down his tip. A growl countered your moans while his thumb rubbed long, teasing circles about your clit. Nails dug into the swordsman's thighs as tears clouded your vision.
"You want to play this game?" His eyes read. "Fine. Let's see who wins."
You're unceremoniously pushed forward by his limbs and your chest lands squarely atop his face. Link's muffled moans hummed between your mounds and you sighed, head lolling forward. You scooted your hole closer towards his propped thighs, dipping just past his angry head and taking a little bit more of him in your cunt. You whorled your hips slothfully, savoring the way he rubbed every corner of your entrance. Teeth dug punishingly into your nipples and worked the small buds until they were raw and red from abuse. A hot, sloppy tongue swirled around the aching buds, matching the pace with your hips.
It took everything in you to not let out the sweet cry bubbling in your chest as you pulled and twisted his soft golden locks, determined to break this man before he broke you. Without any warning, you rammed your cheeks against his thigh, taking all of him in one go; you both choked as you stretched to accommodate his length and girth while your caving walls sent him to cloud nine.
Link was the first to cry out, with you following shortly after. Still remembering the game you were playing, you slid off him almost completely before slamming yourself down again with a force that got him seeing stars. Knuckles tightened around your waist and nails dug into your supple softness as the man beneath you writhed with untold pleasures. Your throbbing heat begged you to wait, to adjust to his size, but you were so focused on getting him whimpering under you that you brushed the sensual shock off.
Link adjusted himself slightly to naturally hasten your rolls; you also adjusted yourself in a bid to level the control you had over him. You decided your gait, not him. Soft hands went to pry the battle-worn digits off your side but were promptly met with a sharp slap over your wrists, gluing them to one spot. As he positioned you slightly angled above his pelvis, his smirk countered your falling expression as you began to realize the compromising position you were in.
Not wasting any time, Link roughly entered your hole, keeping you right where he wanted you for maximum pleasure. His sudden entrance elicited the sweetest calls for his name and you threw your head back, barely keeping yourself together. Try as you might, you couldn't wriggle free from his grip (though he loved watching your futile attempts, your countenance contorting into the prettiest, sluttiest faces). Your hands twitched and convulsed, wrists writhing uselessly against your side as he hastened his thrusts.
"Nngh! Link! S-Slow--please!"
"Hm? What was that?" He asked coolly, exertion inapparent in his voice.
"T-Too fast--Link, I c-can’t--"
"Oh, but you took me so well last night. Besides, I'm having fun watching you struggle like this." He snickered, watching the rebellious glint in your eyes dull into something lustful. You were trying so hard to pry from his grasp. You thought you could break him first? How cute.
Link's head rolled into the bed as he felt you stretch and expand with every thrust, locking his cock in a vice grip. Gods, you were so tight. And warm. And wet. He cursed under his breath as he watched your juices pool at the base of his cock. His clasp unknowingly began to loosen.
Slackening just enough for you to wiggle free. He gasped, no longer feeling your convulsing hands under his and before he knew it, those same hands that got you under his control were pinned above him. You laughed something wicked as you sat promptly on his dick, stilling his wild pistoning. He felt small under your piercing gaze, like some prey item looking up at its predator. You leaned down and nipped his ear lobe, a soft whine escaping him.
"My turn." You purred, rolling against him painfully slow and giving your abused cunt a much-needed break. A groan rumbled out of him the instant he stopped pounding your insides at unimaginable speeds. You fought the wrists that tried to pull away from you and locked his lips with yours, tongue and teeth mashing sloppily against the other. Frustrated at your own slow pace, you took your rolls up a notch--fast enough to keep his mind from imploding but not enough to give it the release he craved.
"Please, just a bit faster..." He sputtered, pleading.
"Do you really think you're in a position to be giving orders?" You cooed. "Don't rush me."
Your hips lulled into a steady rhythm that was a step faster than what you were previously going. Link turned into a fumbling mess under you, filling your bedroom with his begging whines and gasps for more. With one hand still pinning him down, the other grazed the various scars that littered his abdomen. Your tongue swiped your bottom lip while you watched the outline of his abs convulse with each pleasure-stricken breath. Every one of your touches, every one of your kisses, every sloppy squelch your wet hole made as it took him whole fogged his mind with ecstasy.
"Mm! You've been so good... Letting me use your cock..." You whipped your hips forward, grip tightening around his wrists. The Hero of Hyrule's pathetic little whimpers traveled to your ears and you looked down at the whining man squirming underneath you, tears prodding his eyes.
"You like that? Hm? You like it when I bounce on your hard, hard cock?" You accentuated each word with a snap of your hips. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he let out a cry of pleasure.
"Please... Please, let me touch you--feel you... I need it, please..."
"Not yet darling," you kissed his tears away, giggling as more came to replace what was lost. You felt him swell inside you and you moaned. "Fuck, Link..."
You leaned back, resting on his thighs for support, and gyrated your hips in a circular motion. Link was practically screaming, begging, imploring you to grab you, hold you, anything just please--
"Nuh uh uh," your sing-song voice dripped with a lusty venom. "The moment you lay your hands on me, I stop. Got it?"
"No!" Blue eyes shot up to meet yours, mortified. "Don't stop! Whatever you do, just don't... Ah... Don't stop..."
You fucked and fucked this man until your thighs clung to his with sweat. Link pressed his face into his bicep and his hands balled into pale fists, shaking as he fought the urge to overpower your teasing self and ram his throbbing cock against your sweetest spots.
"You look so pretty, Link... Gods, absolutely gorgeous." You gingerly pulled his face to look at you. "Don't hide from me, I want to see you..."
You sunk your chest into his as your hips lifted and snapped down with a lewd squelch. He let out a noise between a gasp and a yelp and he bucked his hips up to meet your cunt. You hovered in the air, low enough for Link to slip in and out of you but high enough where he couldn't immerse himself wholly. A race of obscenities slurred out of his mouth.
"P-Please (F/N)... Can you come down a little lower for me? I need you... Need you wrapped around me..."
"Mm... I'll think about it." You laughed darkly as Link strained harder to fill you up with his cock. Eventually, his breathing became haggard and you felt his heart thunder in his chest. He threw his head back and chanted your name like something holy. Your lips left bluish welts all over his alabaster skin and you pulled away, admiring your masterpiece.
"So pretty... All right, I'll give you what you want..." You began lowering your hips--barely at first--while Link sang your praises, feeling the lower half of his dick be squeezed by your tight, wet walls.
"You fill me up so well, baby..." You rolled your hips faster, faster, faster. "Fuck, you're so big...!"
Link's abs suddenly crunched up and you yelped, slipping into his lap. Rough hands pulled you off him and spun your body round, faceplanting you into the soft sheets. He scuttled you closer and poised your ass in the air, taking a moment or two to appreciate your hole pulsating with want. His torso dipped into the arch of your back, sending hot breaths up your spine and into your ear.
"It's been fun, but..." He licked the sensitive spot under your ear, melting into your moans. "I'm gonna make you mine now, okay?"
Two fingers curled into your needy hole and thrusted at mind-numbing speeds. You screamed into the fabric bunched at the foot of your bed, fists balling uselessly in response to his merciless onslaught. As if your mind wasn't wrecked with enough pleasure, another hand snaked around your waist and dipped down your pelvis, kneading your swollen clit. The simple motion almost got you coming undone by his fingers.
"I'm gonna make you regret teasing me for so long." He hissed, his sexual frustrations turning into something sadistic.
As quickly as they entered you, his fingers pulled out and rubbed your slick all over his throbbing cock. He pained to feel your tightness vice around him, but Link was a patient man.
"You're such a tease, you know that? Gods, look at you... You're making a mess of our sheets." He hummed, rubbing his twitching head along your folds. "Whatever will you do to make up for this?"
"A-Anything!" The word flew out of your mouth before you could catch yourself. "Just please--please fuck me already!"
He chuckled evilly, prodding your entrance deeper. A whine wrenched from your throat and you tried pushing your cunt against him, but you were kept firmly in place with his hands.
"Begging's a good look on you, darling," He sang sweetly. "(F/N), you're gorgeous... Spread out so beautifully for me..."
Whispers laced with obscene praises overtook your senses as you felt your husband slowly fill you up, making sure you felt every sweet inch seep into your core. No words could explain the unholy heat that spread from your core to your fingers, tingling them with mind-rocking sensations. You felt his pelvis against your ass and you both let out a pent-up sigh.
Not a moment later, his hips snapped to life and you were completely at the mercy of the Hero's thrusts. Your breasts spilled into his hands, a wave of soft flesh lapping the other side of his palm with every forceful thrust. The other hand reached for your abused folds and rubbed your clit, each swirl more feral than the last.
"So good... So good for me... Your body was made for me..."
You were sobbing at this point. Shaking. Screaming. All for your beloved Link. He fucked every sense of coherency from your mind, filling your brain and cunt with nothing but him. He straightened his back and burrowed his fingers into your hips, admiring the little crescents his nails left behind. The air behind you stirred and the burn of a slap seared into your bouncing cheeks, lodging a pained whine in your throat. He rubbed the swollen handmark, loving the red that grew to settle on your skin and traced your relatively unmarked back that was practically begging to be marked by him.
He started with gentle kisses and tonguing here and there, gauging your expression (or moans) for discomfort. A high-pitched mewl acted as permission for him to continue. He followed the natural curve of your spine, teething the soft flesh and suckling so contently. He initially took his sweet time marking you, but the thought of his bruises painting your skin spurred him faster, rougher.
He bit the back of your shoulder and dragged teeth and tongue to your neck, his home. You felt him breath deeply, no doubt getting drunk off your scent and the smell of sex that clung to the air. You suddenly felt a hand burrow into your disheveled, sweaty hair and he pulled you up, pressing your body flush against his. The modified position allowed him to reach even deeper and at speeds he hadn't gone before.
Digits wrapped about your chin and neck, prying them sideways to make way for even more hickeys. Each mark still wrought your skin with a heat you could never get used to, no matter how many times he claimed you. Moist lips covered the shell of your ear as a husky whisper wormed through your thoughts.
"My cute lil' wife... You're taking me so well. Making me feel so good... Do you feel good too? Are you drunk off my cock yet?"
Some messy confirmation stammered out of you as lidded (E/C) met hooded cerulean. The imperceptible knot in your gut began tangling itself into tight ribbons. You were getting close.
He pulled you into a messy kiss raptured with delight, losing any form of standard structure as tongues met and coiled around the other in an intoxicating dance. You were no longer yourself, turned into a mere plaything by your loving, adoring husband. He chuckled at the dazed look in your eyes, nuzzling into your cheek.
"I love you so, so much..." His hand on your clit moved faster and faster. "Come for me, okay? Can you do that for me, my queen?"
The all-too-familiar tension grew and grew in your lower abdomen; your head lolled downward, bopping your nose clumsily against Link's. Your hand wandered to the top of his sopping-wet fingers while the other snaked around his neck. He balanced your forehead against his and locked adoring eyes with you.
"Don't look away... Look at me. I want to see your slutty face as you come..."
His velvety purr was the last push you needed to fall the over edge and into the sweet, white abyss. A scream you didn't recognize sang into his ears as you poured your juices all over his hand, your cunt shaking from the magnitude of release. The delightful twitches shot him over the edge and his eyes fluttered shut, pure unfiltered bliss kissing his features as he brimmed you with his seed.
All the strength in the Hero's legs sapped, you both fell backwards into the plush sheets, sweat and slick binding your limbs into a messy pile. Spent exhales intermitted with each other and neither of you moved, locked in warm, satisfied catatonia.
"I've never..." He breathed out with much effort, "Came so hard... In my life..."
"I think I... saw the gods." Exhausted laughs spilled from the both of you and you felt his loving gaze. You looked over at him as he tucked your sweaty locks behind your ear.
"Makes sense. You're absolutely divine, after all."
A weak slap to his bicep and a chortle.
"Must you tease me?"
"It's not teasing if it's the truth." He rubbed into your neck and sighed, feeling the post-orgasm sleepiness weigh his eyelids; your consciousness was already waist-deep into slumber. In the moments leading up to what would undoubtedly be the best sleep of your lives, he drew you closer and treated your ear with a low, tired whisper.
"I love you, (F/N)... Thank you for being mine."
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eddiernunson · 4 months
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Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader | 18+
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Word Count: 16.9k
Chapter contains: Wedding shenanigans, smut, meeting Hawkins characters, smut, regular kinks, public sex, and lazy writing where i didn't even look up countries to travel to for honeymoons. Also...a haircut... (don't hate me)
I barely got this done in time, and it's also unedited. My editor says she can do it and we'll replace the rough copy lol.
Still thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you and @bebe07011 for always telling what they think and reading for it me first.
I just wanted to share some personal news. I'm 18 weeks pregnant, and I am always so fucking tired, so I apologize for posting a million things one week and nothing for months. The inspiration really comes and goes.
Anyways Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
“I gotta admit, I didn’t expect your wedding to be so soon,” Skyler admits, in the middle of chewing on a salt and vinegar chip, some in her hand in queue to be chomped on next.
You keep your eyes on the movie playing snacking on a peanut M&M, watching Amanda Bynes’ truly unmatched comedic timing. “I am not spending a whole year of wedding planning,” you protest, throwing another chocolate into your mouth, “my mom is far too opinionated for me to be able to handle all of that fuss.”
“Well, you still need to find a dress…” Bethany points out, taking a hit off her vape pen. “And a caterer, someone to marry you, and a wedding photographer, decorate the venue—”
“We have invited close family and friends only.” You remind her, rolling her eyes. “If anything, the reception will turn into one big dance party. Hell, we’re ordering pizza. I don’t need a fairytale wedding. Having him has made my life a fairytale already.”
“Gross.” Skyler comments, sticking her tongue out at you playfully.
“I think it’s cute.” Bethany offers, grinning.
“Also, I might have already decided on a dress.” You hesitantly say, turning your head around and up at them to see their reactions. They collectively stop what they’re doing to scream at you for it. The gist of their uproar was mostly how they weren’t invited to the time you spent looking, but this dress was a happy accident by every definition.
“You found a dress?”
You shrug, pausing the movie so it’s not such a distraction for the conversation. “Yeah…”
The first time Eddie gave you his card and sent you to the mall for him, you were anxious about holding his money and only spent it on things he explicitly said he had wanted.  The entire trip took about an hour, getting home and holding a few bags as you entered the front door. Eddie leapt from the couch, grinning wickedly as he met you in the kitchen. He held your hands as he smirked at you. “How was the shopping trip?”
“Good.” You answered, moving to your purse on the counter to hand him his card.
He put it in his wallet hurriedly, wanting to get back to you. “What’d you get?” He asks, starting to look through the bags.
“I found everything you asked for except for the socks, apparently they’re discontinued.” You answered, leaning onto the island counter.
Eddie’s face falters only the littlest bit, shrugging. “Damn, gonna have to find a new favourite pair then.” He looked through every bag one by one, seemingly looking for something he couldn’t find. “What’d you get?”
Your brows furrowed in confusion, not understanding what he meant. “Um, everything but the socks?”
Eddie’s face broke into laughter, hands snaking themselves around your waist. “Yes, baby, but what did you get for yourself?” His voice was so gentle, smiling at you fondly with a gorgeous lobsided smile on his face.
“Oh, um, nothing…” you answered, eyes flickering to the ground. “It’s your money.”
A hand made its way onto your cheek, intertwining his fingers in your hair. His lips landed on yours, taking your breath away with how dreamy and dizzy it made you feel. As he pulled apart, your knees were weak, mouth half open as you stared up at him in pure bewilderment. After you were able to catch your breath, you finally asked, “What was that about?”
He smiled at you tenderly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You’re just so sweet, my love,” he muses, beautiful brown eyes roaming all over your face. “Sweetheart, you have a ring on your finger. If we’re about to get married, then my money is your money.”
A frown sat on your face, thinking over what he just told you, eyes fleeting all over his hardwood floor. “But…I don’t, I don’t want, I don’t want—”
He hooked a finger under your chin, lifting your chin to look up at him. “I know you don’t want it.” His other hooked around your back, pulling your body against his. “However, I do want to share it with you, just like I want to share everything else.”
You smiled at him, sighing as his hand caressed the swell of your cheek, leaning into it. “I just don’t want you to think I’m with you for any other reason than how much I love you.”
“And how hot you find me, hmm?” He teased, eyes half lidded.
You rolled your eyes playfully, hands petting the nape of his neck. “Of course.” Eddie gave you a big kiss, lips wrapping yours, making you feel only bliss. “So, if I take your card to Sephora and buy a palette I’d had my eye on, you wouldn’t protest?”
Eddie sighed, sticking his tongue out in his true fashion. “You could buy the whole damn store as long as you’re happy.”
You squinted at him, lips pursed as you assessed his gorgeous face. “…How much do you have in savings?”
He smiled, tilting his head playfully. “Enough.” He said, tilting his head and twisting his face comically. “Maybe not enough to buy the whole store, but enough to shop comfortably.”
With his blessing, you started to feel something like trophy wife on the occasional mall trip. Holding his black card as you swipe it unflinchingly at a large bill is so satisfactory as you see the glint of jealousy of the cashier’s eyes.
On your most recent outing, grabbing groceries and making stops at your favourite stores as you browsed, a little boutique in the corner of the mall caught your eye. You’ve never seen it before, a deserted area of the mall that has incredibly niche stores that mostly look like a storefront for a ring of some type. In the very corner is a sweet little boutique with hand made clothes, the kind of clothing one doesn’t come across very often anymore, all made with care with high quality fabric…but not at a designer price.
A dress with embroidered flowers around the skirt caught your eye in the window, and there were only cuter clothes. With several hangers of clothing on your hand, the corner the store comes into view, and the prettiest white dress you’ve ever seen came into view.
As soon as your size was in your grasp, you giddily ran off to the change room. As soon as the zipper is up, your eyes welled up in bridal glory.
All for 85 dollars. (Well, that’s not the whole bill, just the dress.)
Your eyes flicker back to your friends, shrugging. “It just happened.”
“How far is Hawkins, exactly?” Bethany asks, leaning on her elbow on her legs crossed.
“A few states away.” You answer, pressing play on the movie again.
“You’re only inviting close family, right?” Skyler asks.
“Yeah, and you guys and Steve’s family.”
Bethany tilts upside down on the couch, feet resting on the pillows as she watches the movie upside down. “I’m sorry, who’s Steve again?”
You roll your eyes. “Do you guys ever listen to what I say?” They shrug, looking at you expectantly. “He’s Eddie’s best friend.” Still, their looks are completely blank. “You remember the photo I showed you of Eddie? He was the one on the left.”
Their eyes both noticeably bug out of their sockets. “Oh, you lucky bitch.” Skyler chuckles, definitely remembering the one of the left.
You roll your eyes, again. “He’s happily married, you dicks.”
“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it” Bethany accuses, knowing you too well, if you had anything to say about it.
The hesitation says everything. “Okay, maybe once or twice.” You admit, avoiding their eyes. “But again, he is happily married, and frankly unrealistic. Plus, he might be my sister’s father-in-law,” you joke, mostly hoping there’s no truth behind it.
 “Okay, this I gotta hear.” Bethany giggles, leaning in with much intrigue.
-
Hours later into the evening, your friends are taken off to their prospective life commitments. The living room is tidied up and the tv turned on to some background noise as you doom-scroll on your phone. Right on time, the front door to the house slams shut.
His hot breath and sweet kisses on your neck feels like home, titling your neck and humming happily as his arms wrap around your torso from behind the couch. “Hi, baby.”
“Hello, my love.” He greets. Your hand lands on his hair, petting his curls. “I gotta take a shower, then I’ll be right back.”
He bends your head on the back, giving you a deliciously upside down kiss. “Hurry fast.”
A usual shower for him doesn’t take too long, usually sporting sweats and a band tee as he comes back down the stairs twenty minutes later.
It’s only thirty minutes when your patience completely runs out, hopping up the stairs wondering if he fell asleep. He’s not in the room, or the bathroom, so you finally find him in the closet, squatting while he grabs something from one of the low storage shelves.
“Hey, Eddie—”
You forget the English language. Every word you’ve ever known is gone from your brain, nowhere to be seen. He uses his elbows to lean on his thighs, perched on his toes and smiles at your speechlessness.
“Surprised?” He asks, standing up and wrapping his arms around your waist.
You stare up at it, hand petting his scalp. “What did you do?”
He shrugs, spinning his hands in circles in his hair. “Needed a change.”
“That…that’s a big change.” You comment, noting the way his face looks without his hair framing it.
He grins, hand caressing your face sweetly. “What do you think?”
You wonder how you missed the razor with a hair clip on the counter. “I think we might have a problem…”
The panic in his eyes is subtle, but there. Clearly, he’s never had someone who loved him for him, and you’re excited to see his reaction. “Oh?” Eddie asks, doing his best to appear casual.
You smile, admiring the way his hair curls at the nape of his neck, even buzzed all the way to his scalp. “What the hell am I going to hold onto while you go down on me?” You ask, playfully scolding him.
He laughs, his face crumbling in relief. “We’ll figure it out, sweets.” He tugs you into his arms, arms gorgeously tough as he hugs you intensely. “Not the first time I’ve cut my hair, you know.” Eddie tells you, squatting back down to grab what he needed.
You’re honestly unsure if you’ve ever seen a picture of him with short hair, but then again, his social media doesn’t have many pictures of him. “Oh?”
Eddie grabs what he needed successfully, taking off into your shared bathroom. “Yeah, last time was when Dyl was like eight, or something.” Eddie answers, cleaning up the last strands of hair from the counter. How did you miss those?
“Needed a change, then, too?” You ask, now seeing where he placed his shed locks, the damn garbage.
Eddie tucks his lips in, tongue poking out between his lips. “Uh, not exactly.” He starts, hesitating. “Brooke sort of…demanded? I guess? That I cut my hair when long hair was apparently not really cool anymore.” He laughs, putting the razor away. “She wouldn’t let it go.”
Anger is useless, at this point, knowing that dumb bitch was just plain horrible to him. It still stings to know he had to deal with her, regardless. “She seems so lovely.”
Eddie laughs, taking your hand in his as he led you back out the bedroom and back down the stairs. “This time, at least I did it for myself.”
“I can’t lie,” you start, sitting nearly on his lap on the couch. “I will miss it, and our kids will be shocked when they see their dad had short hair in our wedding photos…but it’s hair. It grows back. I will always accept you for who you are, baby.”
Eddie doesn’t know which part to focus on more. He hopes you never fail to make him feel so loved, and honestly, he doubts you ever possibly could. But for the moment he focuses on the first part. “Our kids huh?” He asks as you lean back comfortably against his chest.
“Oh, hush, you know what I want from you.” You rebuke, smiling satisfied as you watch whatever is on TV.
His arm wrapped around you pulls you impossibly closer to him, still expecting the itch of his hair on your neck. “I know, my love. I want the same thing.”
“You get any calls for RSVPs, yet baby?” You ask, sighing happily.
“Steve called, everyone’ll be there, of course.” Eddie answers, grabbing the remote to switch channels.
“Oh, cool, I can’t wait to meet Jocelyn.” You say, still not having met his wife.
“I thought you’d be more excited to meet Eliza.”
“Oh, her, too.” You laugh, nodding. “She will be the cutest flower girl ever.”
Eddie kisses the top of your head, sighing happily as his cheek rests on it. “That, she will be.”
-
Eddie’s hands are intertwined with yours as he flies down the major highway, music blasting through his speakers as the wind sends your hair flying from the open windows. The prospect of flying versus driving to Hawkins was debated for a hot minute, but a long road trip with him was just too good to pass up. Several bags are in the back seat, packed for both the four days you’re spending in Hawkins, and the three weeks for the honeymoon.
He surprised you with a His and Hers matching set of bags, mouth quirked in a smile as he saw the embarrassment take over your face. He knew how excited you were to go take a trip to Cancun with him as newlyweds, and he did his best to make it clear the feeling is mutual.
But before you can take off on a flight with him, comes getting married.
Both your dress and his suit are in garment bags, something you’re all too thrilled for him to see, the prospect of him on the other side of the aisle filling you with a level anticipation you didn’t know was possible.
The trip is long, and you wonder how Steve was able to make it to your parents’ in such short notice, noting you’ll need to extend more gratitude to him. You had offered to drive, but Eddie had repeatedly denied you, insisting you’re his queen, and he planned on treating you like one.
What was that you had said earlier about living a fairy tale?
As you pulled into the small town, Eddie texts a few of his friends to let him know you had arrived safely. He pulls up to the one gas station in town, stretching his back out, walking into the convenient store to pay and take a leak.
When he comes back out of the station there’s an aura of amusement on his face, shaking his head. You meet him at the pump, eyebrow quirked to ask him what he was so smug about.
“He’s still alive.” Eddie chuckles as he puts the pump to start filling it up. He laughs again when your face twists into even more confusion. “Gus, the owner from when I was in high school, he’s still kickin’, and he’s still running the joint.” He pauses, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Probably out of pure spite, if anything.”
You kiss his cheek, petting at the curls now swirling in his hair. You still missed the length, but he looked good with short curls. “Wonder who else has surpassed those expectations.”
His eyes widen at the idea. “If Higgins is still principal…”
You smirk, having several stories about Higgins undeserved vendetta he held against Eddie, having once blackmailed him into dripping out. “God help the youth of Hawkins, Indiana.”
“I don’t blame Arlo for any of his sass in that case.”
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, a text from your mother that she, Viti, your dad, and her had successfully landed in Indianapolis and are currently grabbing their rental. Thank god your mom is acting like a mother again after her brief mental psychosis. 
For the first day in town, Eddie has a whole plan for you, refusing to tell you what he had planned. First, was the singular old folks’ home Hawkins hosted. The receptionist immediately recognizes Eddie, flickering to you with a twinkle in her eye. “Is this?” She asks, pointing to you covertly.
“Sure is.” He answers. “How is he?”
“Very excited.” She answers, placing a pen and paper on the counter in front of you. Eddie signs his name, and hands the pen for you to do the same. “Same room as always.”
Confused, you follow his lead down the hall the opposite way from the rec room where a group of elderly individuals were playing bingo. He’s petting your thumb with his, his eyes flickering between your eyes and the ground.
Is he nervous?
He finally stops at the door second to last on the left, labelled with the number 18. Three knocks on the door and there’s a gruff voice on the other side telling you to come on in. Eddie takes a deep breath and opens it, slowly walking into the room.
The door opens to an older, much older, man with a very thin patch of hair on his head facing the other direction, hands shuffling over a faded deck of cards, slowly categorizing them, supposedly a game of solitaire. Eddie lets go of your hand to approach him from behind, playfully humming, moving one of the cards over the old man’s shoulder. “There ya go.” Eddie says, gentle and smug.
“Christ, you always knew how to beat me.” He mutters, shaking his head. He lifts it to face Eddie, smiling ear to ear as he stands up slowly, relying on the table in front of him for stability. “Bout time you came back to town,” he jokes, tugging Eddie in for a hug.
You can see Eddie’s smile over his shoulder, observing the way Eddie relaxes in his hold. Eddie’s hands on his back are firm, gripping onto him for dear life. You’ve heard stories, only had an idea of how much his guardian meant to him, but from just the looks of this hug, it’s the kind of affection you suppose could only a parent could provide him.
Times like these you wished you knew him when he was younger, just to see more of these vulnerable moments.
Not that you want to cut their reunion short, but you need to get this introduction out of the way because it was the one you’re most nervous about. You clear your throat subtly, only to get their attention. Eddie’s eye’s abruptly open, meeting yours apologetically. “Sorry, sweets.” He says, pulling away from the hug. “Uh, Wayne this is—”
Wayne, the man who has picked up the slack from his deadbeat brother and runaway sister-in-law, turns to face you, smile on his face as he abruptly wraps you in his arms for a hug. “I don’t need an introduction to the woman who brought my son back to life.” He insists, squeezing you tight. You want to feel cocky about this statement, but all you can do is smile into his shoulder. It’s impossible that the affect you have on one another is the same, a lust for life you’ve never have before now ever present, looking forward to the future knowing that you’ll have him for as long as humanly possible.
It's just nice to hear from those who have known him his whole life.
Wayne finally lets you go, the smile lines ever present as he grins at you. “Well, I suppose you two still have a lot of work to do before Saturday, huh?”
You look at Eddie, shrugging in sync. The only thing there really is to do is set a few tables up for the reception and pick up some flowers from the local florist. A small wedding means little to do, especially with good friends in town insisting on helping tie the final pieces together.
“This one isn’t a bridezilla, is she?” Wayne jokes, winking at Eddie’s exasperated eyeroll.
“She could stand to be a bit more decisive, to be honest.” Eddie laughs, a lobsided smile.
To be fair, you just wanted to marry him, it really didn’t matter how the tables are laid out at the reception, or where you take the photos. He could’ve taken you to a courthouse and you would’ve been satisfied, but there is something so enticing about announcing to your close friends and family how much you love and plan to spend all your days with him.
Wayne and Eddie talk, Wayne telling the embarrassing stories you’ve been begging Steve to tell you, yet with no success. The pink blush on Eddie’s face is adorable, watching as he hopelessly protests the stories, but Wayne seems to be the only person out there who doesn’t get intimidated by Eddie’s stern voice. You wonder if the temptation to give the same energy next time you’re being berated by him will be too much to ignore.
Your favourite story that Wayne told you was the one where he was ten years old and attempted to mix his love of hard Metal and Dungeons and Dragons and turned on the song only to forget he had it turned all the way up the day before.
It resulted in snacks everywhere and one of his favourite figurines crashed as he stumbled across the room to try to turn his stereo down. Wayne even had some photos he keeps in a box on his dresser, handing one by one. The best set of photos were Eddie growing his hair, going from a kid with a buzz cut in the halls of a school displaying a rock signal to the camera to a jaded teenager refusing to smile for it.
Yeah, if you knew Eddie in high school you would’ve been down bad.
Eventually, Eddie stops protesting at the stories and just ends up defending the actions of a hormone-driven seventeen-year-old.
“You’re not expecting me to wear a suit, are you?” Wayne squints, leaning back onto the desk.
“Just wear something nice, will ya?” Eddie asks, an aura of affection for his lifelong guardian.
“Yeah, yeah.” Wayne dismisses him.
The nurse is sweet as you and Eddie sign out, Eddie requesting that they get him out of his room to socialize for once. She laughs, insisting that they do his best to get him out, but he is stubborn as he is old. Judging from his silver hair and the vibrant blue veins showing from his paper-thin skin, you can see where Eddie gets a lot of his personality from.
Eddie’s a silent sort of content as he drives down the main street, thumb caressing your hand with purpose and ease. He makes a turn, slowing at the end of the street at a sweet little yellow house. “Where you bringing us this time?”
“Still not telling.”
The front door opens to a woman with short curly hair, crossing her arms as soon as she sees who is on her front step. “Was wondering when you’d stop by.” She says, waving her hands to invite you in. “Come on in, Robin is over for the afternoon.”
“Hi, Wheeler.” Eddie greets her, tugging you in with him.
Oh, Nancy. You’ve heard little about her, only that her determination is scary.
“Yeah, come on in, you groomer.” Comes another voice, a little rough on the edges but said with love.
“Groomer?” Eddie asks, eyebrow tilting.
“You’re lucky that’s all I’m calling you.” Robin, sitting at a table with a cup of tea, playfully shoots back. “Marrying a girl half your age.”
“And like I’ve said on the phone, she’s been making as many of the decisions I have.” Eddie says, sounding tired. “Anyway, this is Robin, that’s Nancy.”
They toast their cups to you, observing how you and Eddie are with each other, his hand around your shoulders and your hand easily intertwined with his.
“They’re uh, they keep me in check.” Eddie laughs, gesturing to them.
“You cut your hair.” Nancy states, a smirk on her face. “Haven’t seen that in a few years.”
“Whatever, do you want to tell her or not?”
Turns out, Nancy and Robin been communicating and texting Bethany and Skyler for ideas on a bachelorette party for you. Your eyes are full of fear as you glance to them full of fear, scared of what they had planned.
Those eyes were a little too smug for comfort. “You haven’t told her anything about the uh… U.D, have you?” Robin asks softly as Nancy shows you a photo album as the friend group from years back. What a friend group to be in back in their heyday.
“Not quite yet.” Eddie shrugs, wondering how is it those faded memories can come back so quickly just because he’s in town.
“You ever plan to?”
“Probably. Won’t wait too long so she doesn’t think I’m senile.” Eddie jokes, but it falls flat.
“I think she can handle it.” Robin admits, now having spent a few hours with you. “Maybe skip the part where your heart stopped.”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “Probably.”
-
Eddie has made several more stops throughout the day, introducing the many colourful characters that flooded his hometown. Felt like right out of a storybook.
The one you most got along with turned out to be Dustin Henderson, the very same one who Steve’s third son is named after. Just from your first conversation surrounded by their goofiness, do you truly understand how dorky, how dramatic he really is. Dustin does have stories to tell you, less embarrassing, more dripped in his dramatic flair for life.
Dustin checks on the habits he still carries, does he still fidget with his fingers, does he tuck in his lips, has his patience gotten better.
Correction, Dustin is one other person you suppose Eddie can’t intimidate. You’ve seen many attempts only met with laughter. “Steve has a bachelor party planned for you, you know.”
You shoot Dustin a glare, charging on him. “There won’t be any strippers, right?”
Eddie’s laughter abruptly stops when you shoot a glare at him, giving you a meek smile. You fucking thought so.
“Don’t worry, Harrington has a death wish, but not that badly. It’s a meticulously planned out campaign.” Dustin chuckles elbowing you. “A few drinking games involved, but no models in bikinis.”
Suddenly Eddie’s in your ear, breath sending shivers down your body. “If you were to show up in a bikini, I wouldn’t protest.” Eddie whispers, planting a kiss on your cheek.
“Tempting, but I think I’ll wait until Cancun.” You answer, grinning cheekily at his widened eyes.
Eddie gets a text that night when you’re in the hotel room with him where the reception was to take place. Most of the wedding was completely figured out, the two of you are ready for a night in before the rush sets in for tomorrow, cuddled up under the blanket as he reluctantly watches one of your favourite romcoms.
His hand pets on your bare thigh, slowly making its way up, smirking at the way you tense under his touch, whimpering as you impatiently wait for him to finally touch you. His fingers finally, finally brushing under your panties and just seeing how wet you are when Eddie’s phone vibrates on the bed. “Don’t you dare.” You protest, clutching in his shirt.
“You’re not in any position to be making demands.” He chuckles, sliding to answer his phone.
You huff, head banging against the head rest.
“Make it fast, Harrington.” Eddie answers. You start to pay more attentive attention to the movie when his hand slips back under your panties. His finger moves easily along your folds, slowly working you. Eddie mutes his phone, “Be fucking quiet, got it?” You nod, forcefully taking a pillow and biting down on it. “Sorry, bud, what was that?”
Eddie listens, face crumbling in annoyance. “And we don’t get any say in this?” He asks, inserting his finger bast the barrier of your entrance. “Yeah, we’ll be an hour.”
Eddie hooks his finger, eyes raking down your body as your back arches in attempt to keep quiet.
“Because you caught us in the middle of something, Stevie.” He laughs starting to speed up. Something Steve says tugs a beautiful sound of laughter from his lips, hanging up and tossing the phone. “Take your panties off, we have an hour.”
You throw the pillow across the room, grinning as you take your panties and the shirt you’re wearing off.
When he slides into you, perfect and relentless, the words he whispers in your ear are how he can’t wait to marry you, how much he wants to see his girl in a pretty white dress just for him, and what a pretty girl he has.
The only words that leave your throat are about how much you love him, on repeat. I love you, I love you, I love you, Iloveyou.
Stubbornly, Steve demanded two of you made your way over as soon as possible. Eddie agrees, but really wishes he could stay with you when he sees the blissed-out expression you wear in the afterglow. Damn him.
You reluctantly go with him, half asleep as your head rests his shoulders when Steve finally opens the door. “Finally, you sluts!” Steve laughs, hand in his front pocket as he opens the door with the gusto only Steve Harrington really can. “Jesus Christ, warn a guy next time you get a haircut.”
You glare at him, rolling your eyes. “If we came all this way just for this, then I will see you tomorrow, Steve.”
“She has a point.” Eddie agrees, also ready to go back to the room and forget you were asked.
“Chill out you two.” Steve insists, “c’mon.”
Well, Steve is one hell of a schemer, because as soon as you reach the living room everyone (and then some) jumps out from their hiding places, a big ass surprise party.
Like the two of you weren’t already having a big party in two days, but this is a large reminder of how loved you are.
This thankfully gave you a chance to mingle with the rest of the Harringtons, Eliza regretfully already asleep upstairs. Immediately, you see the connection between Nicky and Dylan and how much they get along far more than Dylan ever did with Arlo.
Arlo and Viti are mingling a little too close for comfort, her back leaning against the counter as his hand is placed right next to her, nodding as what ever she says is apparently agreeable. Whatever Arlo is planning, he’d better stop that shit.
Jocelyn Harrington is the perfect ying to Steve’s yang, perfectly balancing out his chaotic personality and keeping him in check only the way she can. You ask her to keep an eye out for Arlo, something she promises that she’s tried to do many times in the past, in fact, this his him tamed.
You finally learn who you’ve hired to take the wedding photos, a boy you’ve only spoken to over the phone from Steve’s recommendation. He’s…Nancy’s, ex’s, son, Jeremy Byers, who has apparently picked up his dad’s hobby in photography and, like his father, turned it into something that can pay the bills. His dad is freakishly just like him, sweet and unassuming. What is it with genes in this town? Everyone just copies and pastes.
Somehow, Steve managed to get your parents to show up, somehow finally warming up to Eddie. Still, she’s on thin ice for ever having insulted him to begin with. Apparently, Nancy does remember your mom, having been on the newspaper with her.
Your mom was on the newspaper?
The night is spent laughing in Steve’s massive living room, the air filled with anticipation and pure excitement, actually glad you were forced out of bed. The doorbell rings, opening to face your two best friends as they squeal and wrap you in a hug and everything is right in the world.
Maybe your mom could stop flirting with Steve, though.
-
Finally, you stumbled into the Hotel room at 3am, giggling together as he falls on the bed on top of you. His hand snakes his way under your skirt, tugging them down fast, the sound of him undoing his belt driving you crazy as you giddily and hurriedly help him with his shirt. He’s been teasing you all night, his lush lips wrapping yours and wandering hands making you want to pull him into one of the bathrooms.
The pure want in you right now when you know you’re about to make Eddie your husband is coursing through your body is excessive. There’s a looming question, will you be able to hold back during your wedding? Answer is a definite no, but you’re trying to trick yourself into believing that you will.
His bare skin against yours as he ruts against you is everything, yet even after every orgasm you want more, crave more of him more than you ever thought was possible. You’re extra greedy that night, holding him closer, begging him for more, more, more. His words are a sweet mixture of worship, praise, and just a little bit of degradation. My girl, my sweet love, taking me so well, your sweet cunt, greedy little slut.
You fall asleep with your legs wrapped around his waist, sleepily exchanging sweet nothings in one another’s ear, the rest of the world dissolved completely.
The vibrations of your phone don’t wake you up, but it certainly alerts you to the following vibrations of Eddie’s. The phones didn’t even make it to your chargers, sitting in the mess of clothing on the carpeted hotel floor. Eddie’s body is partially on yours, wrapped in his musk as you stretch, taking in the reflection of the sun on the roof. “Eddie.” You moan, stretching your limbs as you attempt to reach off the king-sized bed. “Phone.”
Another phone is buzzing, somebody clearly relentless in their effort to get a hold of you. Eddie hums, head twisting only the littlest bit in your neck. “Too…too bad.” You slowly crawl out of his hold, rolling towards the scattered pile of clothing. Just when you think you’re successful, Eddie’s strong bicep effortlessly pulls you back, tightening his grip on you. “Stay.”
The sound erupts again. “You don’t think that could be important?” You ask, finger gently trailing along the skin of his back.
His shoulders shrug, lips starting to trail kisses along your neck. “Don’t care.” He mumbles, hands moving across your skin. You can feel his enthusiasm against your leg, tugging him down against you. “Waking up to your beautiful face, gorgeous fucking body, you think I care about anything else?”
When he puts it like that, you suppose you really can’t say no to him, especially when his voice is luring you in like so. You hum, starting to see his point as the buzzing fades into the background. “Then get to it, will ya?” You ask him, hands intertwined in his short curls. As he pushes himself up on his hands, his eyes meet yours, grinning cheekily.
“Get to it, you say?” He asks, hands tugging on your hips your body meets his perfectly. “Somehow last night still left me unsatisfied.” He pushes into you slowly, not giving you any warning or bothering to prep you. As assumed, the slick from last night remains ever present along your folds, allowing Eddie to push in effortlessly. Your mouth opens wordlessly, meeting his eyes and drinking in the pure lust in them. “This pussy baby, you’re telling me I get this for the rest of my life? Am I that lucky?”
As always, he’s crazy to believe he’s the lucky one. “Whenever you want, Ed,” you tell him, fingers clawing up his back and mewling. “Faster, please, please, baby.”
“Pretty voice beggin for me.” Eddie mutters, still granting the wish. “Think your pussy can take more of daddy’s cum?” He asks, hands intertwined in your hair and thrusting harshly. “Thought I already filled it a bit last night.”
“Never enough, Ed.” You gasp, pulling his lips on yours. They’re lush and sweet, but the kiss turns dirty as his hands press harshly and fiercely. “Can never…never get enough.”
Eddie chuckles, curling himself into your neck. “You keep saying shit like this to me and I will never let you leave this room.” His hands slide themselves down to your wrists, sitting up as he pulls your arms down your torso. This position hits a new angle, the pleasure hitting a deeper spot than you knew possible.
“Who said I want to leave?” You laugh, his grip on your wrists tight enough to bruise.
Your legs wrangle themselves against his chest, feet flexing next to Eddie’s face, watching his half open mouth and gorgeous face. “Just what I wanted to hear, sweets.”
His hips are beautifully relentless, eventually turning you around in his grasp, your face hitting the pillow as his hips start impossibly faster. His hand grips itself in your hair, pulling your back against his chest, snaking from your hair back around your neck. “Listen to those sounds you make, love, so desperate for me.”
“What a pretty girl, taking my cock so fucking well.” His other hand clings itself onto your clit, circling it as his hot breaths gasp against your neck. “Feel that sweet pussy dripping all over me, you close, babygirl?”
“So close, Daddy.” You whine, neck stretching impossibly high as the pull in your stomach is strong and intense. His fingers move faster, driving you towards that high more and more. “Oh, my god, Ed.”
Your pussy flutters around him, eyes twitching shut and whining in his hold as his hips never let up. As you just start to come down from it, there’s a loud knock on the door. You fall forward, whining as Eddie doesn’t let up. The knock comes again, faster and louder this time. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind them, and frankly, neither do you, listening to him as his groans grow deeper and longer, reaching backward frantically for his hands. “Gonna fill you up, love.”
The knocks are now rapid, never ending and stubborn.
“One fucking minute!” Eddie yells, voice harsh and aggravated.
Now the voice that’s been shouting is clear who it is, Steve apparently having no patience as he shouts in anger.
You feel him rut a final time, bending over you as he gasps desperately into your ear. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Hurry up, I’ve been calling you guys for an hour!” He yells, you can practically hear his hands placed on his hips.
“You want me to open the door naked?” Eddie asks, grabbing the pair of pants he tossed onto the ground last night.
“Is that a threat, or a promise?” Steve asks, a hint amusement in his voice.
Eddie opens the door, rolling his eyes as he leads him in. You lie under the covers, not caring about the lack of clothing you wear. “What?”
“Oh lord.” Steve grunts once he sees your relaxed posture on the bed, scrolling through your phone.
“I’m sorry, did you not know what you were walking in on? Your ears have mysteriously vanished from your head?” You ask, a half smirk placed on your face at his hand exaggeratedly hiding you with his hand.
“I at least figured you’d have clothes on,” Steve grumbles back, crossing his arms. “I’ve been calling you two for the last hour, we have shit to do before the parties tonight.”
“Parties?” Eddie asks, slipping his shirt on.
“Yes, parties. Hurry, you two.” Steve demands, clapping his hands repeatedly. You stare up at him blankly, still half paying attention to the videos on your phone. “Well?”
You blink at him, stunned. Wasn’t this wedding supposed to be easy? “Get out!” Point angrily to the door of the room.
“I want you two in the lobby in five minutes. We got shit to do.” Steve demands, letting the hotel door slam behind him.
You glance to your fiancé, leaning on your elbow cheekily. “Wanna fuck me again?”
To be honest, Eddie’s jeans were back around his ankles before you even finished the sentence.
-
The feeling of shamelessness as the elevator opens to the lobby fifteen minutes later is refreshing, sporting kiss bruised lips and tussled hair as you cheekily greet him.
Steve looks tired, sitting in a chair in the lobby scrolling through his phone leaning on one elbow. “I should’ve known way better.”
Admittedly, Steve was right. Despite the size of your wedding there was still a stupid amount to do before the Wedding takes place the next day. If it weren’t for him, you’d probably would’ve stayed in bed all day until the realization kicks in. Maybe being as much in love with Eddie as you are is both your saving grace and your downfall.
Steve acts like a wedding planner. You thought your mom is bad, turns out she’s got nothing on Steve Harrington with a goal and a vision.
Flowers picked up, hair stylist and makeup artist booked, the church confirmed, all the t’s crossed and the I’s dotted.
When you’re sitting with Eddie and Steve on the living room couch at the early evening, Jocelyn opens the door, walking in with her daughter running in like a little tornado, her little curls bouncing with every step. Her voice is to the brim with giggles, running up to Steve with glee.
“Daddy!” She yells, hopping into his arms as he catches her effortlessly. Eliza is somehow even cuter in person than she is in any photo you’ve ever seen of her.
Steve hugs her tightly, petting her back like the gentle parent he is. “You see who’s here, yet, Liz?” He asks, nodding towards Eddie and you.
Eliza abruptly leaves his hold, switching her bright green eyes to Eddie. “Uncle Eddie?” She jumps straight for him, forcing the one arm behind you to wrap around her.
“Hello, sweetheart.” He greets, your eyes meeting his over her shoulder. Seeing him talk about her animatedly is one thing, but watching him melt as soon as she’s in his grasp sets your ovaries on fire. “Are you excited to be a flower girl for us?”
Her eyes flicker to yours, shyly smiling, as if remembering there was someone for her uncle Eddie to get married to. “That’s the lady?”
He laughs, hearts in his eyes never leaving as he glances over. “Yep.”
Eliza looks back to him ‘whispering’ in his ear, “She’s pretty.”
Eddie chuckles and places his hand by her ear, pretending to whisper back, “I know, it’s why I’m marrying her.”
The glare you want to give him is drowned out by the warmth that floods your entire body. “You two sharing secrets over there?” You squint your eye, pretending to be suspicious of them.
Eliza giggles, hiding in her hands. “No!”
“Then why are you whispering?” You demand, leaning in.
“We’re not!” Eliza giggles, kicking her feet as she tumbles off the couch.
“If you’re lying, I think a monster is going to come chase you,” you warn her, shaking your head exasperatedly.
Her eyes go bug wide, scared only as a four-year-old can be of a monster coming after her. “N-no, we weren’t whispering!”
You nod at her, smirking at Eddie, hoping it gets the point across. “Uh, oh, Eliza, I see a monster!”
Eddie catches on, dramatically crouching as he bares his teeth and pretends to growl. As soon as she hears it, she squeals, little footsteps taking off into the next room. You watch him run after her, suddenly completely forgetting that it wasn’t his idea to begin with.
How the hell have you just managed to fall for him even harder, you’ll never know. Maybe you want more than one with him.
You sit back comfortably on your chair, feeling completely relaxed from the sounds of their footsteps and giggles alone. Your head feels heavy falling over and suddenly facing Steve’s eyes already dead set on you. You’re startled out of your daze, head perking up quickly and hurriedly. “What?” Steve’s eyes flash up and down, making you feel a tad self conscious. “What?”
“What was that?” Steve asks, nodding towards where Eddie and Eliza are still running around, making loops around the house.
You shrug. “Just playing with your four year old?”
Steve tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed. “When you two have kids, I think the world needs to watch out.”
“Kids?” You ask exasperated. “Who said anything about that?”
“You did. And him. And I know you’ve at least talked about it.” Steve answers, unwavering conviction in his voice. You’re speechless, playing with your nails as you avoid his eyes. “Mmmhmm, that’s what I thought.”
Once Eliza is put to sleep, you’re comfortably on Eddie’s lap as a knock on the door echoes through the house. Jocelyn gives a smirk as she opens the door, and a parade of shouts bursts through the door. The group of men that burst through it are all loud and jeering, their smiles too wide as their hands grab at the man beneath you, picking him up by any body part they can grab. He’s promptly lifted over their heads, all of them ignoring his shouts in protest and threats to dismember them if they don’t let go of him.
Not that you’re mad at Steve for throwing Eddie’s bachelor party onto him, just the opposite. A warning that the next time you’d be seeing him was at the altar would’ve been nice, though. You heard him shouting from the basement, a mixture of glee and anger. Steve gets up from the couch, making his way towards the door to the stairs.
You rush before he goes, blocking the way to the stairs. “Take care of him, won’t you?”
“I promise no lap dances from any of the strippers,” he vows, his face smirking at the glare that lands. “I’m kidding! It’s just drunk D&D, no strippers involved, I promise!”
You hit him on his shoulder, just a little done with his bullshit. “Better not be.”
“I mean if he starts stripping when we get to the tequila, I make no promises on stopping him.”
You stop Jocelyn who is just passing by. “You sure they’re over each other?”
She shrugs, knowing exactly what you mean from 25 years of dealing with the two of them. “Jury’s out on that one, I’m afraid,” she winks, petting Steve’s confused face.
“Make sure he gets there tomorrow on time,” you nod, patting his arm condescendingly.  
“Right, a church in St. Louisville, right?” He asks. You hit him again, harsher. “Oh my god, sometimes you are so easy to piss off.”
You shoot one last glare. “For the moment, I think I have the right to be, you know? Sort of need him there on the other side of that aisle.”
“He’ll be there, he might be a bit hungover, but he’ll be there.”
“Alright. Now go downstairs, Harrington.” Steve startles you by tugging you into a hug, taking a moment in stunned silence before returning it. “Make sure he has fun.”
You sit down on the couch, listening to the crowd of men cheer as Steve finally gets to the bottom of the steps. Your head just hits the pillow on the couch when Jocelyn’s elbows land next to your hair, wearing a smirk you swear you’ve seen on Arlo before.
“Oh, you think you’re in the clear?” She asks, assessing the look on your face. “Come on in, ladies!”
Somehow when Eddie was picked up, you completely missed how there was a whole different group who followed in, sneaking their way into the kitchen. Now the very same ladies who organized the bachelorette party rushed in, grabbing your hands up from the couch as they all squeal in glee. You didn’t know where to look or what to say, surrounded by doting hands, both friends of yours and Eddie’s alike.
“Here,” no one in particular passes you a pretty dress, something you didn’t even pack for yourself. “Put this on, we’re going on a night out!”
“In Hawkins?” You ask, aware of the single dive bar that Eddie spent his nights working at.
They all let out a chorus of “no”, all explaining simultaneously that they rented a party bus and you’ll be travelling to the closest city that has one more than only one bar.
A tight dress, makeup that only other’s hands have put on you and a bit of pregaming, strobe lights are bumping and the bass is loud in while you’re surrounded by all of the hens. You’re extra surprised Nancy and Robin have also joined in on the fun, Robin’s voice scratchy in the speakers as she sings into the karaoke microphone. Your little sister is extra giddy that she was invited to join, too deep with number the drinks she’s already had.  
You’re just glad she’s not with Arlo for the night.
To catch your breath about halfway into the trip you sit down, everyone following your lead with beads of sweat on their foreheads. The music is turned down eventually, all eyes on you.
“So, are you excited?” Skyler asks, poking your hip right next to you.
You nod shyly, a big smile taking over your face. “Of course!”
“Okay, so I just have to know, what’s the craziest thing you guys have ever done?” Bethany abruptly asks on the other side of you.
Your face twists into confusion, giving every pair of eyes staring at you exactly what was going on in your brain; what the hell is she talking about? “Crazy?” You ask, question her, wondering what they could possibly mean. “We really aren’t all that crazy.”
“Oh, come on.” Viti interrupts, crossing her arms as she sits on the seat directly across from you. “You know exactly what she’s talking about.” She wiggles her eyebrows, smirking.
“I happen to know his nickname the Freak is not just a name…” Nancy laughs. “If rumours from High School are anything to go by.”
Your jaw drops, laughing to compensate for the discomfort. “Why do you all want to know so badly?”
“Please.” Skyler protests, leaning forward on her elbow. “The way he looks at you? There is no possible way you guys don’t have crazy, or at least crazy good sex. Spill the beans.”
You ask for a shot glass, downing it straight away. Not that you want to entertain it, but just to protest, you’re gonna need to be a lot less sober than you are right now. “Assuming you are even close to being right,” you start, asking for another shot, “why the hell would I tell you guys?”
“Because our curiosity is peaked.” Viti explains, unwavering in the intense eye contact with you. “Spill.”
“Fine.” You give in, barely holding the laughter that bubbles out from your mouth at their joyful expressions. “Seems you guys are desperate to know, so I will tell you one little adventure. Just one.”
The music is turned down into a low melody, acting as a background when you tell the story of hooking up with him in the dressing room after just moving in with him. Their expressions are slack jawed, all on the edge of their seats as you describe the want and the adrenaline that rushes through you as your face is pushed up against the dressing room wall.
You end the story, laughing with the crowd at the circumstance in which you ended up meeting Steve Harrington. The bus stops, pulling up to the first bar for the evening. You get up easily, ignoring the way all eyes stare at you in bewilderment. “Well, you coming, or what? It is my bachelorette party!”
Robin is the first one to get up, laughter leaving her lips as she follows behind you. “C’mon, if we get her drunk enough, I’m sure that’s not the only story she’ll tell us!”
You wish you could answer the question of how you successfully made your way back into the bed of your hotel room, waking up next to the warm body that is your fiancé. The headache is splitting, waking up to the alarm on your phone that rings loud and clear. “Oh fuck.” You wince, checking the time. Luckily you still have time until your appointments, glad you opted for a later ceremony.
You go for the carry on that rests on top of your bags, knowing it holds extra strength pain killer. You take two, this hangover the worst you’ve ever felt. You refresh yourself in the bathroom, splashing your face with cold water and brushing your teeth.
You stumble back into the main room, greeted by Eddie sat up on the bed with a charmed look on his face. “How you doin,’” he asks, seeming to know more than he let on.
“My head hurts,” you whine, crawling into bed and wriggling your way in his arms.
“With how drunk you were last night, sweets, I bet it does,” he laughs, remembering the way he was barely unable understand the slurred words that came from your mouth. “You were so sweet, my love, and a very sloppy kisser, might I add.”
You hide your face in his chest in embarrassment, the feeling getting worse as you hear his deep chuckles. “What did you see?”
Eddie is in his hotel room by 1:30, the night wrapped up early after too many rounds of shots and a rush of nostalgia from even some of the original Hellfire members joining in on the fun. They weren’t going to the wedding, but they had more than enough fun in making fun of him.
At 3:00, a few light knocks interrupt his late-night rerun. He was already yawning, his age setting in, but still waiting up for you. Through the peep hole, he sees your two best friends holding you by the arms, your eyes half open as your head sways. “Jesus,” he mumbles, rushing to unlock the chain and door lock. He opens the door with wide eyes, facing his fiancée who is giggling and hanging off her two best friends.
“Oh, thank God.” Skyler mutters, praising when Eddie opened the door. “Here, take your wife.”
You stumble forward into his arms, giggling madly when your face sees his. “You’re pretty.”
“Hi, sweets,” Eddie greets you, struggling to hold you up as your legs wriggle under him. “Have fun?”
You nod, wide smile on your face. “Kiss me.” Eddie is overtaken by how much tongue you give to him, hands hurriedly grabbing at the shirt he’s wearing, attempting to take it off and assumingly forgetting about the audience you held in the hallway.
“Whoa, whoa, baby.” He unpeels your hands and stops them, pushing them down. “I think you’re a little too drunk for that, go lie down, I’ll be right there, yeah?”
You nod, slowly staggering towards the bed, landing in a starfish position right in the middle. “So, uh, thought you said you wouldn’t get her too drunk?”
If he wasn’t so concerned for your liver, he’d laugh at the way your friends’ eyes bug out of their skulls. “We tried, we really did, girl was a runaway with a credit card.”
“You didn’t think to take her card away?”
Bethany squeaks, happy for her friend, but never wanting to be on the other side of his protectiveness again. “Oh, we tried. Also, she told us some stories.”
Eddie is afraid he already knows what she means by stories. “Stories?”
“Mmmhmm. We went from begging for one to not being able to shut her up.” Skyler explains, smiling meekly at the end of her sentence.
“Remind me not to send her out on a girls’ night with you two, anymore.” Eddie sighs, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t need her having liver failure by the time she hits thirty.”
“I mean, it was probably the excitement and all…” Bethany tries to mend but gives up at Eddie’s glare. “We’ll pick her up at 9 for the hair appointment?”
“You do that.” Eddie scrunches his face. “Thanks for getting her back safe, but I am seriously concerned for your lack of self-preservation. Goodnight.”
He doesn’t let them respond, closing the door and locking up for emphasis.
He slowly helps you take the dress that fits you extremely well off, assisting you into a pair of pyjamas. When he tucks you in under the blankets, you grab onto his shirt, yanking him in for a kiss. “Want you.”
Eddie doesn’t need any elaboration, feeling the way your hips sloppily grinded up towards him. “I know, baby, but you are way too drunk.”
“Pretty please?” You ask, your voice and face desperate in your want.
He sighs, petting your face gently. “I can make you cum, if that would help my baby?”
You nod, mewling in agreement.
“Okay, just to help you fall asleep, yeah?” You nod again as his fingers slide their way into your soaked panties, working them as he watches you fall apart easily under him.
It took you less than a minute to cum, he didn’t even slide one in. Damn. He was actually looking forward to dipping in your wet heat. You thank him repeatedly, yawning as you turn over and fall asleep in seconds.
He then had a hard on to get rid of, somehow turned on at how even when your mind is foggy all you can do is want him.
He fell asleep with you clinging onto him like a koala bear.
Eddie switches his glance back to you, smirking at the worried expression you wear on your face. “That even when you’re incredibly inebriated, you still just want me.” He chuckles, kissing your forehead. “But, I did want to request that you don’t destroy your liver, I was very concerned for you.”
You peer up at him, taken aback by how much his eyes convey the same message. “Okay.” You plant a clean, sober kiss on his lips, humming when his hands pet your hair. “Only because I never want to wake up not knowing what I did ever again.”
Eddie laughs, wondering what those CCTV cameras must’ve looked like. “Hey, princess?”
“Hmm?”
“Guess what?”
You lie on his chest, petting the patchy hair there. “What?”
“We’re getting married today.”
You can’t help it, grinning madly at this sentence and the pride in his voice. Holy shit, you’re getting married today.
Only ten more minutes of pure bliss, sharing sweet kisses and exchanging words of excitement do you get before the cavalry arrives, both your bridesmaids and Eddie’s groomsmen storming the room together.
He kisses you fiercely as he’s shooed out the hotel room, not able to get enough in before he sees you in that dress. “Love you!”
The door is shut, but you shout it back anyway, suddenly the excitement and the joy of your day settling in.
Holy shit, you’re marrying Eddie Munson, today.  
-
Since you called almost one month ago, the only hair salon in town has been booked for you and your bridesmaids until noon. The stylist is full of questions about how you met, how long you’ve been together, what he does for work, all things you’re more than happy to explain. You didn’t ask for much, only curls that braided into a crown at the base of your head, but you didn’t want to risk spending hours on it.
She leans in as soon as your hair is done, reaching your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror. “Correct me if I’m wrong, you’re the one marrying Eddie Munson, right?”
Your eyes bug, biting your lip. “Mmhm,” you confirm, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap.
“Don’t worry, small town things.” She laughs, taking the cape off you. “Your makeup artist just got here, I’ll let her take care of you in this seat.”
You thank her graciously, appreciating the companionship and conversation she provided, despite the nerves really starting to set in.
Thanks to a string of emails shared between you and the makeup artist, she has a great idea of exactly what you’re wanting, a natural look with the smallest hint of smoke. You find yourself having déjà vu when she asks the same questions, naming the groom to boot. The repetition is oddly comforting, you’d even call it soothing.
“Alright just a finishing touch, and you are all…done!” She hands you a hand mirror, and you couldn’t have done it better if you tried.
No. Seriously. You’ve tried.
Your bridesmaids all get their make up done, too, the group sitting in a circle as they talk absolute nonsense. “Dude, you’re the chilliest bride ever, we don’t have to wear matching dresses and you paid for our hair and make up? To think Skyler thought you were gonna be a bridezilla!”
You quirk your eyebrow at Skyler, who was in the middle of getting her make up done. For free. “Sky?”
“Hey, you were the one who always wanted the fairytale wedding,” Skyler rebuttals, raising her hands up in surrender.
“I said that like, a year ago!” You protest, a little defensive.
Skyler laughs, loud enough to stop all the other conversations in the salon. “Babe, you said that the week before you met your groom!”
Your eyes roll, a little embarrassed from being called out. “Yeah, okay, so before I met someone, I’m willing to give up a fairytale wedding for?”
“I mean he would’ve given you one,” your sister peeps out, having been quiet this entire time. “Pretty sure you didn’t need to give it up.”
“You have any idea how long those weddings take to plan?” You ask crossing your arms in your seat. “I was not going to wait that long.”
“Down, girl.” Bethany laughs, the rest of the salon following suit.
As soon as the stupidly massive bill is paid with a card that bares a name you’ll soon share, you’re brought back to the hotel room.
All you asked from your bridesmaids that they dress in something that makes them feel comfortable, but not something they’d wear to a night out.
As soon as they’re all dressed, they surround you in a circle of love as they help you get into your dress. Not that it requires them to help you out, but the sentiment is certainly there. Just when you thought you looked great in the dress when you initially tried it on, it’s nothing with everything tied together. God forbid someone call you out for being weepy, but you couldn’t help it even if you tried.
“You ready, Miss. Bride?” Bethany, your maid of honour asks, petting your hair as she meets your eyes in the mirror.
“Nope.” You answer, without a lick of hesitation. “Yet at the same time, I have never been more ready.”
“Usually I would harp on you for being cheesy, but that was actually really touching,” Skyler admits. You promise to yourself you wouldn’t hold the mist in her eyes against her, (no matter how hard she makes it.)
Your heel lands on the pavement of the cement, getting out of the car Bethany and Skyler took to the church. In the entrance hall of the church you meet your parents and the groomsmen, Eddie tucked away so he can’t see him, or rather, he can’t see you.
As the groomsmen pair up with the bridesmaids, (Bethany blushing as her arms are wrapped around Steve’s), your dad’s hand lands on your shoulder, kind eyes behind his round classes peering at you. “You, ok, there?”
“I’m so nervous.”
He takes these words in, nodding in consideration. “What exactly are you nervous about?”
A rush of emotion takes over you, resisting the urge to glance down the aisle to where you know Eddie’s about to start making his way down any moment now. “How badly I want this.”
“Nothing else?” You nod your head, no reluctance in it. “Well, then all you have to do is start down that aisle.”
The music you picked, a cover of Can’t Help Falling in Love, starts at 3’clock on the dot, much to the way your heart flutters.
Steve approaches you, arm around Bethany’s. “I helped Eddie sneak through, he didn’t see a single thing, and he’s already on the opposite side of the aisle waiting for you.” You nod, your eyes apparently bug wide. “Breathe. If it helps, he’s been a wreck all day.”
That helps. That helps more than he knows. “Really?”
“It was kind of annoying, honestly.” Steve answers, face twisted up. “Well, we’re about to miss our cue in the song, see you there.”
“Uh huh,” you answer, warm under the kiss he plants on your cheek.
Arm in arm with Dylan, Skyler winks at you as she soon follows.
Did your sister really have to walk the aisle with Arlo?
Your dad’s arm hooks in yours, patting your hand comfortingly. “It’s time.”
But I can’t help…falling in love with you.
There’s only about 30 or so people in the pews, but even as they all stand with their eyes on you, you’re glad there’s so few. However as soon as your eyes meet his chocolate ones on the other end, you forget all the nerves, all the anxiety, all the worry.
First, your mouth curls into an involuntary smile. Not by any means of sadness, does your smile fade and turn to tears. A laugh bubbles from your chest, the mixture of tears and laughter confusing you. Maybe it has something to do with the tears that also reflect in his eyes, and the way you can’t look away from him, but you could swear there’s only the two of you in the church.
The two of you in the world, really.
There’s a squeeze on your arm, your dad reminding you he’s with you every step on the way, but your eyes are glued in place. The closer you get to him, the wider his smile grows, yours growing as a direct answer. A tear escapes, and escape in the sense that you’ve done your best to hold them back, mouthing I love you to him.
If he didn’t have as much pride as he does, you know he’d be just as weepy as you are.
Finally, you reach the end of the aisle. “I’m proud of you,” your dad whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Now, go get married.”
You finally exchange a smile with him, quickly embracing his hug. “Thanks, dad.”
You step up to the altar, eyes raking over the sea, or pond, of people in the pews. Eliza sits with her mom in the front seat, excitedly waving to a couple that only has eyes for one another.
Finally, your hands extend to hold his, switching back to face him. Oh, just when you thought he looked handsome, it turns out he gets impossibly more so when wearing a suit. A gorgeous, black suit, accentuating his slim hips and his hair loosely gelled down.
His eyes rake over you, eyes unable to stay in one place on you. “You look beautiful.” Eddie whispers, voice deep and breathless.
You sigh, another tear leaving your eye. “Unfairly handsome.”
“You been crying?” He asks, holding your face to wipe them away.
Your lean your head into his hand, closing your eyes in sweet relief. “You’ve been, too,” you sigh, noting the single tear streaked down his face.
The person you’ve chosen to marry you has no true significance, and Steve had initially suggested he do it, but who cared. However, the pastor has known Eddie since he was a teenager, more than happy to marry him to you.
His words fade into the background, a few verses about love and anecdote or two about it in his speech. Truthfully, nothing matters but his eyes on yours and the way his gaze makes you feel. 
A chorus of laughter echoes through the church, catching your attention, finally. “Seems we you got back again.” When you both look at him confused, he chuckles deeply. “We understand you’ve written your own vows?” You look at one another, but there’s no hint of any shame. “Eddie, you may go first.”
“I wish that I know how much that one shower would change my life,” Eddie starts, his thumb rubbing over your fingers.  “I got in, stressing about the shop, then I got downstairs, and I loved you from the moment I saw you.” Oh, fuck. “I have to be honest, I know you keep saying you’re lucky, but I really am the lucky one that you saw anything in this old schmuck. Everyday I have done nothing but the best to feel deserving of your love, to make sure you aren’t taken for granted.”
The tears that stream down your face are uncontrollable. “Sometimes I don’t think I have any right to feel any right to feel as protective or possessive over you as I am, until you surprise me by saying something that puts words in my mouth, the same ones I’d have been thinking all that time. To love this much and to be loved the same in return is a miracle that I will never take advantage of, my love. You will never feel taken advantage of, never worry about money or shelter, and never worry about my loyalty to you.
“I love you. I will never be ashamed of it, I will never ask more of you than you can give. You have already given me everything you have, whether I deserve it or not, and I will give you the same, every time. To be honest, I have marvelled over what to say to you, staring at a blank page. All I can say is that you will never doubt my love for you. Ever.”
God, your makeup must be completely ruined by now from the tears and the snot. Halfway through Bethany came in clutch, offering tissues from her brassiere. Your ears could’ve been tricking you, but you swear up and down there are sniffles echoing from the audience.
“Now that we all had a chance to collect our selves, our beautiful bride, your turn.” You nod, blinking in surprise when you notice there’s a wetness in his eyes, as well.
“That’s gonna be hard to follow,” you laugh, the witnesses laughing with you. “Eddie. My love. To say it is a miracle that I love you this much and you love me just as much is an understatement. It’s not just a miracle, it’s a dream come true. A dream I never knew I had. That day also started differently for me, in ways I still regret to this day,” you say, looking behind him to where Dylan stands. “You come downstairs with your wet hair and, well, you, and it is true more than I could describe that I did fall in love with you in that moment, too.” His tears aren’t as messy as yours was, but Steve comes in clutch with a tissue as well.
“Every day I’m with you, all other fears seem to fade and disappear. Nothing else matters, I can truly get through everything with you by my side. It’s no lie that I am outrageously attracted to you, but I don’t think anyone could blame me for it.” He laughs at this, rolling his eyes in dismissal. “It’s the only part of my attraction though, I will deny anyone that could even dare to insinuate otherwise. Until I met you, I never knew I could feel this loved, this happy or satisfied by anyone’s mere existence, alone.
With you, I am happy. Even when I’m not. With you, I am both protected and taken care of. The way you protect me, I will do the same. The way you take care of me, I will do the same. Your sweet selflessness will never be taken advantage of, in any such way. From the moment I saw you, Edward Munson, I knew. I will love you for the rest of my life.”
“Jesus Christ.” It wouldn’t have been too alien to guess that it was Eddie who said it, but the very sniffles and exclamation came from behind him, Steve using his suit jacket to wipe a tear away.
“You okay, bud?” Eddie asks, also using his tissue.
“Just marry the girl, already.”
“Well, we do have some papers to sign.” The pastor escorts you to where your legal papers sit, names written for everything except the date and final signitures.
Steve signs, followed by Bethany, both sporting shiny eyes. She winks her green eyes at you, handing you the pen. When you sign yours, Eddie places a kiss on your neck, sweet and gentle. When he signs his, your fingers cling to the silk material of his jacket.
“Well, I think you two have seemed to wait long enough. I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss your bride.” Eddie doesn’t even bother waiting until the end of the sentence to grab your face and plant a kiss on your lips, knocking the air out from your lungs from the love that surrounds you. He doesn’t care about his audience, barely takes note of the applause that breaks out, kissing you in a way that you normally wouldn’t dare in front of your parents on a good day.
Who fucking cares, you’re announcing your love to the world, they’ll get over it.
The flashes of Jeremy Byer’s camera is in your face as you walk down the aisle of the church together, hand in hand with him, fingers nearly losing feeling in your fingers as he grips onto you tightly.
When you stop in the church corridor, all that can be felt is a sense of celebration. You did it. All you need to do now, is party. “Oh my god, finally.”
He chuckles, wrapping you in his arms. “Can I tell you something, love?” You nod, inhaling his sweet cologne. “The moment I saw you in this pretty dress I got rock hard.”
You lick your lips, eyeing him up and down. “You don’t think your words made me absolutely drenched, Ed?”
“Fuck.” Eddie mutters, kissing you sweetly again.
There wasn’t a moment to escape for a few hours, whisked off to an area surrounded by beautiful flowers and greenery to take pictures, surrounded by the wedding party. On the phone, all you communicated is that you needed someone to take pictures of the wedding party for portraits as well as individual shots of you and Eddie, and Jeremy was a complete gem.
As soon as the portraits are over, every portrait where you look in his eyes not feeling a hint of cheesiness or falsehood, you are to head back to the hotel conference room for a reception.
Traditional receptions usually hold a first dance, speeches, embarrassing moments, cake cutting ceremonies, etc. To be completely honest you don’t trust your best friend or his to make speeches that won’t embarrass the two of you completely. And rather than sit for dull speeches, you told Eddie all you wanted was to celebrate with him and a DJ playing all the songs the two of you love, the wild combination it is.
You told your dad you would dance with him for the song that would’ve been your father-daughter dance, but nearly no traditions kept up for the reception.
The hotel offered a few plates of entrees for your guests before the DJ announces you two as a married couple something you accepted with a small external deposit. Steve oversaw ordering 20 pizzas in varying flavours, the very thing you’ll be doing instead of cake or dinner.
You hold your new husband’s hand in excitement as the DJ announces your arrival, the first announcement of Mr. and Mrs. Munson to some dad-rock song that he personally requested.
Well, the only thing you really splurged on for the reception was the open bar.
You pet the curls at Eddie’s neck, swaying together to the first slow song that the DJ played. Your lips are already kiss-bruised from your long day spent kissing him, but it doesn’t possibly prevent you kissing him any more, every single one he gives you somehow making you dizzier than last.
“Baby.” He grunts, getting your attention. He nods behind you, gesturing to the left. You turn you head to face Arlo and Viti, her eyes shining bright as she stares up at him, dancing even slower than you were.
“I’m gonna have to accept that, aren’t I?” You say, noting the special way her face is cradled by his hand and the way she leans into it.
“Looks like it, sweets.” Eddie says, his eyes still on you when you look back to him.
You sigh, wrapping your hands around his neck. “Hey, I gotta get going, I’m getting exhausted.” You look over to face Wayne, grinning in his plaid and slacks.
“Of course, thanks for coming.” Eddie says, giving him a hug. “So glad you could meet her.”
“Are you kidding, Ed? With those vows? Next time I see you, you better warn me before you make me cry like that.” Wayne laughs winking. “I’m glad you two found each other.”
“Love you, Wayne.” You say, grabbing him in for a big hug. “It was so nice to meet you.”
Wayne hugs him, too, gripping onto him tightly. “Thanks for the open bar, you two.”
The way you surround yourself with your friends and family, dancing up and down as the music bumps, the lights down with strobe lights flashing. In the middle of it, Eddie starts kissing your neck hands roaming and making you feel everything.
Eddie tugs on your hand as he leads you to a crowded hallway, a dead end with nowhere to go to. Your back collides with the wall as he kisses you, feverously and deliciously hungry for you as you are for him. “Oh, sweet love, do you know how crazy you make me in that pretty dress?” His hands hurriedly make their way under the skirt of your dress, ruffling it up as he presses himself against you. “I have been mercilessly hard since the moment you started coming down that aisle, baby.”
“You gonna fuck me in the hallway, Eddie?” You ask, breathless, “Can’t hold back that badly?”
“From the moment I first kissed you, I haven’t been able to hold back from you, love. You think I can hold back when you drive me as crazy as you do?” His kisses trail down your neck, nibbling and simultaneously inhaling your scent. “My wife, my gorgeous, lovely, beautiful, bride.”
You gasp, head tilted up as he effortlessly lifts you by your hands lifting under your thighs. “Need your cock, Ed.”
“Yeah, you need me to fuck you ruthlessly, my love?”
You nod hands shaky as you attempt to undo his dress pants. “Please, Eddie.”
Eddie yanks your panties down your thighs, marveling at the lacy fabric. “Fuck, I need that sweet, tight, pussy.”
Before you knew it, Eddie was lining himself up with your entrance. “Fuck, hurry up, before someone comes for looking for us.”
“You think I care if someone walks in on me fucking my wife?” Eddie asks, and his question sounds genuine. “I couldn’t care less if someone walks in on us, at least they could get a good show, we could give ‘em someone to be jealous of, yeah?”
Hopelessly, you feel impossibly more turned on by his dirty perfect words.  “Then give me your big cock, Ed. Please.”
Eddie pushes into you, filling you completely. “Oh, there’s that cock drunk face I’ve been wanting to see.”
“Eddie, cock, so big!”
He doesn’t waste a second bucking into you, harsh and ruthlessly perfect. “Somehow your pussy gets better every time I fuck you, sweets. How tight you are, how perfect, oh, if I didn’t love it so much I would say it needs to be illegal.”
“The only thing that should be illegal, Ed, is how good you are with words.” Eddie laughs, hot breath down your neck. “God, you make me so happy…”
“Can’t wait to see you big and pregnant, sweets.” Eddie sighs, repeatedly bucking into you. “Wanna fill you with my babies.”
“Want your babies.” You gasp.
“Where the hell did they go?” Down the hall, you hear someone but it doesn’t occur that it even needs to matter. “God, need to put a bell on those two—oh my god!”
Your head turns to the noise, seeing your best friend standing in the hall with her eyes covered by her hands. “Either stay and enjoy the show,” Eddie stops to gasp, “or take off back to the hall.”
“I-I’m so sorry…I’ll see you in the dancing room,”
You giggle, tugging him in for a big kiss. “Sweet girl.” He laughs, starting to fuck you even harder.
“Cum in me, please, Eddie.” You beg, nails digging into the hair on his neck. “Wanna be filled with you.”
“I am going to keep you good and full on the honeymoon, my good whore,” Eddie mutters and you can feel him start to fall apart. “Gonna fuck you everywhere I can, put on a good show for everyone.”
You tighten around him, turned more than ever by his words. “I love you, Mr. Munson.”
He smiles, colliding his forehead against yours. “I love you, more, Mrs. Munson.”
You don’t know what it is about your new name, but it’s what gets the both of you off, Eddie’s cum filling you up deliciously.
Bethany avoids your eye as soon as you get into the room, and you’re sure she’ll get over it, not like you haven’t heard her and her ex-boyfriend many times.
“Hey, heard you traumatized your maid of honour.” Steve laughs, clutching a slice of pizza in one hand, and a drink of whiskey in the other.
You yank the piece, suddenly aware of how little you’ve eaten. “I thought she’d know better to walk in on us by now.” You laugh, taking a large bite.
Steve checks his watch, the very same hand you just yoinked the pizza from. “Doesn’t your flight take off in about the next three-ish hours?”
Eddie checks his, gulping in answer. “Oh, shit.” You check it with him, having a flight out that same night. “Should we get going, love?”
You nod, placing your head in the crook of his shoulder. “Let’s get going.”
Everyone applauds as you walk out in a sweet white dress, ready to take off to Cancun with your husband, walking down the lane surrounded by love.
Everyone gives you a hug, wishing you well on your long honeymoon.
“Don’t expect to hear from us!” You call, getting in the car that Eddie ordered.
-
The heat from sun is beautiful, sandals flopping in sync as you walk from the taxi that brought you to the hotel. “Jesus, Eddie.” You mutter, looking at your extravagant surroundings. “You did not need to spend this much on the hotel.”
“Well, get used to being spoiled, baby girl.” He mutters, leading you to the check in desk.
The check in attendant smiles sweetly, covertly putting one side of her hair behind one of her ears. She speaks with a thick Mexican accent, giving her best customer service smile. “Hi, checking in?”
“Yes, under the name Munson, please.” Eddie says, wrapping his arm around you.
“Oh, the honeymoon suite!” She exclaims, her smile brightening. “Well, to start, congratulations on your nuptials, and every request is completely fulfilled, no problem. As asked, we will not disturb your room unless absolutely necessary, and we have already booked the spa for your wife.”
“Spa?” You ask, eyebrow tilting towards him. “I love the sound of that.”
“Knew you would.”
“And you have a dinner reservation tonight at 7. Any questions, feel free to call the front desk, any time of the day,” she says, handing the card with the room number.
The floor level with your room only has a few rooms. Eddie taps his card on the door to open it, opening to a room with a damn kitchen suite and a separate room for the bed. “What the hell did you spend?” You ask him, mouth gapping open as your bags slip out of your bags.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, love.” Eddie walks to you, hands caressing your face as he pulls you in for a kiss. “C’mon, we have king bed I want to take advantage of.”
“What was that about no interruptions?” You ask him, petting his curls.
“You think we’re leaving this room for the next six hours?” he asks, lightly pushing you towards the double doors that open to the bedroom.
His words make you literally insane, wanting him more than you ever have. “W-what?”
“Baby, I am going to absolutely ravish you for so long you won’t even remember your own name.” He claims, already pulling the zipper down your back. “But you will remember your new last one.”
Your back is laid on the bed, Eddie pulling your panties down, biting on the second pair of lacey lingerie you wear for him in less than 24 hours. “Sweet girl, look how soaked you are for me.”
“Need you.” You grunt, anticipating Eddie finally tasting you from the feel of his hot breath on your pussy, sending shivers down your spine as Eddie places your legs over his shoulders.
Eddie kisses you, nose nuzzling in your intoxicating scent, his hilted nose hitting right up against your clit. “Fuck, are you wet, baby.”
“Can you blame me, I just married the hottest man alive!” You moan, heels pulling him in.
“My wife is the prettiest, and I will be spending my life making sure everyone around me knows how smoking hot you are. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meal to eat.”
Your hands fly into his short curls, lying restlessly as Eddie devours you. Your first orgasm takes over your body, invading every sense with mind numbing pleasure.
By the third one invades your body, everything is too much, feels too good, “Fuck! Eddie I can’t, I can’t!”
“You can, my girl, of course you can. Remember what I said about making you forget your name? I haven’t quite gotten there, yet.” He laughs, thumb circling your clit.
By the fifth orgasm you eventually learn that not even begging will stop him if he can help it. “You got a safe word, use it.”
His fingers hook in your warmth, driving you to another one, to which this point you’ve lost count. You swear you’re speaking to him, but in all truth, it is all incoherent. You’re trying to tell him how much you love him, and how good he makes you feel, but Eddie can’t make a single word out of it.
“What’s your name, hmm?” Eddie asks, spitting on your pussy dirtily.
You tell him, gasping for air.
“I see, still not enough yet.”
It takes 11 orgasms to finally drive you to the point where tears are falling from your eyes, both in happiness and straight pleasure. Eddie’s face is straight up soaked in you, the slick drenching his face like a beard. “Alright, beautiful wife, what’s your name?”
Your head lifts up, loopy at the idea that you even had a name to begin with. All that comes out is desperate gasps.
“There we go.” He mutters, crawling up your body. “Think you can handle my cock, or do you think you’re done, baby.”
Your hand reaches out for him, tugging him by his holiday shirt. You can’t communicate, all words left your brain, but you do know you still want his cock.
“Of course, I will still fuck my good girl.” Eddie answers, wiping the tears that fell down your face away.
You’re limp as he fucks into you, hands gripping your hips ruthlessly. All he can do is mutter how much he loves you, and how good of a girl you just were for him, and he could watch you fall apart all day, especially after marrying you.
He fills you up again, arms wrapping from behind you as you fell straight asleep, still muttering sweet nothings and wishes of his love.
-
The first thing that happens when you wake up, is your knees collapse from under you when you try to get up to use the bathroom.
After the mind numbing pleasure he just gave you, you suppose it only made sense. As you brush your teeth, he walks up behind you, his naked torso against your bare back as he kisses your neck gently. “Feel good?”
You laugh, almost choking on the toothpaste in your mouth. “Yes, baby.” You nod, spitting it into the sink. “It’s not past 7, is it?”
He turns you around to face him, giving you a sweet look of love. “Nope. Actually it’s in about an hour. Get ready, sweet stuff.”
“Actually, one minute.” You giggle, grabbing him by the hand before he can leave the bathroom.
“Hmm?” He asks, face questioning.
“Just need to do one thing…” You couldn’t help it, knowing he spent the better part of two hours just going down on you before you napped together. You get on your knees.
“What—oh, oh! Oh, fuck.”
After being bent over the sink in the bathroom, Eddie and you make your way into the front of the restaurant.
The host leads the way, sitting you in a corner of the dining room.
Eddie orders you a sweet cocktail and him a bourbon, eyeing you over the menu.
You returned the favour, making him cum twice before he finally begged to just fuck you.
The dinner is filled with your hopes and dreams, things you’ve been too worried to tell one another, scared of coming across too much.
Eddie wants to raise three kids with you. You agree, confessing how hard you fell for him after seeing him chase Eliza. He doesn’t plan on moving, but might if you asked him to.
You’re only working because you’re scared of relying on him, or making him feel like a bank. He doesn’t care, you can work or not, it’s completely up to you. Sometimes you worry about him being afraid to tell you when he is feeling too achy, joints too sore, or is not ready for something. Truly, honestly, Eddie is more worried about you thinking he’s too old for you.
It was never a worry to begin with, despite the 22-year age gap.
If you could stop asking yourself how it’s possible to keep falling for someone harder, you would.
When Eddie takes the dress you wear off, he’s whispering sweet promises, somehow even sweeter than the vows he told you.
It was two more rounds before you fell asleep in his arms once more.
-
Camille works her front desk, filling in some paperwork and starting her opening shift duties. “Hi Linda!” She says, greeting one of the maids who has been working there 15+ years. “Morning, Linda! Any updates?”
Linda leans in, as she always does when she has hot gossip. “Were you the one that checked in that newly wed couple yesterday?”
“Uh, Munsons on the eighth floor?” She asks, remembering the way he touched her ass so brazenly in front of her. “Yeah, I remember them.”
“Well every maid has heard them over the last 24 hours, they are relentless with one another.”
Camille resists from laughing, eyes bugging out of her head. “Like…?”
“Yes. Exactly like that.” She looks both ways before leaning in again.
“And trust me when I say they are loud.”
“Well, I guess I know why they didn’t want to be interrupted,” She laughs, barely holding back in laughter.
-
The hot sand lies underneath your towel, one foot bent, the other extended as your sunglasses barely shade you from the sun. One ear pod is in your ear, the other in Eddie’s, listening to a sweet mixture of both your music taste.
Eddie lies almost directly next to you, body in direct touch with yours. You’ve been there for barely an hour, sun cascading down on you. “Hey sweet thing,” Eddie starts, turning towards you, leaning on his elbow.
You take the earpiece out, lifting your head to look at your smoking hot husband. “Hmm?”
“C’mon, we’re going for a swim.” Eddie says, holding your hand out for your earpiece. “C’mon.”
You hand it to him, letting the dress you wear over your bathing suit fall off your body. “It’s unfair how hot you are.” He says, eyes appreciating you blatantly.
One of the only things you’ve kept from your relationship with your now stepson, (still weird), is the bathing suit you wore when you met Eddie. You made sure he didn’t see it until this moment, and it was worth the wait. Even as you run straight to the water, you’re utterly aware of how Eddie is chasing you, giggles invading the otherwise quiet beach as you splash into the water.
As you swim together, you can see the sweat that beads on his skin from the hot sun. You can’t help but splash him, enjoying every moment with him in the eerily blue water. “You like my swimsuit?”
He grabs you so your legs easily wrap around his waist, lips meeting the salt on his skin from the sweat. “Shut up, you knew exactly what you were doing, baby.”
“Oh, and what’s that?”
He laughs, arms pulling you in tightly, so you feel the boner in his trunks. “You don’t think I don’t remember what you were wearing when I first met you, sweets?” One hand slips to your bikini bottom sliding it over. “Those pink strings stayed etched in my mind for days.”
One finger slides in, Eddie watching your reaction carefully. “Been thinking of ways to make you fall apart on a public beach ever since, and this is just one of them.”  He feels you tighten up around him in response, a smile slowly creeping on the face. “Making you cum in the water, no one will be the wiser if you keep quiet.”
You gulp, placing your head in the crook of his neck. “Oh, fuck, daddy.”
“I know you love to be watched, hmm, my little minx?”
You nod, barely holding in any of the gasps that leave your throat. “Love people to see you like this, I just know you do.”
“Gonna make you cum, then we’re gonna fuck hidden away from the rest of them, yeah?” You nod, nails digging into his shoulder.
The feeling takes over you, withering in his arms as you try to stay quiet. The sloshing of the water around the two of you certainly doesn’t help, however. “Eddie.”
“Hmm, if I didn’t know water sex actually feels terrible, I’d have put it in by now.” Eddie muses, still grinding his tent against your cunt, still uncovered.
Eddie eventually finds a little secluded area sort of by the water, yet somewhere people might still be able to cross accidentally. His cock his perfect as it hits the spot repeatedly, and he doesn’t even give up after the first time he fills you up. “Listen to you whine for me like a little slut.” He moans, untying the strings on your neck to reveal your tits. “I bet everyone on that beach can hear you.”
At this point you didn’t even care. “Let them listen.”
He laughs, sighing into your neck. “Whatever you say, pretty girl. Just keep taking this cock, let the chips fall where they may.”
-
It’s a miracle your stuff wasn’t stolen off the beach.
Eddie sends you to the spa, demanding you get everything and anything that tickled your fancy. When asked why he didn’t want to follow you, he gives the vaguest explanation in the world, and unfortunately he’s stubborn enough to wait until you give in.
So, a full body massage, a pedicure, sitting in a mud bath just because you can, and you come back to the hotel room feeling more pampered than you knew was possible. “Hey, Ed—” You stop short as soon as the red flower petals that lead you to the bedroom come into sight. “What--?”
All you can do is follow the giggles that radiate from the room.
The double doors open to him, sitting next to a table with a supper on it. “How you feelin, sweets?”
“Pampered.” You answer honestly, your feet twisting nervously.
“Good.” Eddie answers, picking up a dress you knew he had bought in light of being the only one to ever see you wear it. It’s…revealing…to say the least. “Put that on, then come sit down with me.” As his eyes rake down your body, lucky isn’t even close to how you’re feeling. “Man, I’m good.”
“What’s all this for?”
“Do I need a reason to spoil you?”
You laugh, sitting when he pulls the chair out for you. “No, I’m just—”
“I get it.” Eddie offers, sitting across the small table. “It feels a bit much, to me, too. But man, I need you to know how much I love you, sometimes or I will melt.”
Do I even need to tell you how the evening ended? I’ll give you a hint; love bites that cover your neck, passed your breast, and trailing all the way to your pussy.
-
“Since when do you dance, anyway?” You ask him after he tells you the purpose of your walk for the night.
“Since grinding against you in a club was an option.” Eddie answers, laughter bubbling behind in his voice.
He leads you through a crowd of people dancing to a Latin beat, heavy on horns and percussion. He doesn’t give you a chance to even hesitate, his fingers strong on your exposed hips from the cut out in your dress, his knee planting itself in between your legs.
The heat makes his curls frazzle, the constant salt on his skin sweet. From the last two weeks spent in the sun, he’s starting to get a sun-kissed glow. His hand intertwines itself into your hair, tugging on the scalp as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, somehow still moving his hips against yours simultaneously.
“This is the best feeling.” He mutters, not expanding any more.
“What?” You mewl, your hips truly starting to give in to the beat.
“Knowing I have the hottest girl here.” He states, as if it’s a straight fact.
“Imagine how I feel.” You state, knowing for a fact no one even compares to his level.
Eddie turns you around, mouth kissing against your neck as your hand lands on the curls that now are surprisingly already getting some growth again.
He can’t stop his wondering hands. He never can. As if he has the strength to. They never actually touch anything, but they do grab at your ass, your thighs, even feel your tit up. Eddie loves the heat that radiates your pussy, a signal of how fantastic he makes you feel, and how much you want him, no matter where you are.
As you hop bar to bar, drink to drink, dance to dance, by the time you stumble back into the hotel room together you’re both so revved up, you don’t even bother taking your clothes off.
Your reputation throughout the hotel is how intensely you feel for one another, how badly you love each other, and usually they’d just chop it up to newlyweds, but this was a different intensity. Most of the maids haven’t even seen your faces, but they know for a plenty of intimate details just from cleaning on the same floor.
There’s not a single noise complaint, as the floor of the newlywed suites are basically made to make it your oasis.
By the end of the third week, you get homesick for your little house with him, homesick for your own bed. Eddie has spent all the time in the world ravishing you wherever he can, and it would be a lie to say you didn’t spend a single second on your knees in a public setting.
Camille, a woman who has spent the three weeks recommending local restaurants and helping Eddie with his little schemes, helps you check out and speaks to you over the desk as if you were an old friend. “By the way, I hope you know you two have gained quite the reputation here. Have a safe flight.”
Eddie’s truck is in the driveway when you get home, Steve promising to bring it back as one of his many best-man duties.
As your back hits your back, it’s better than ever to be home, glancing up at the popcorn ceiling. As you’re lying down, you notice a slight ache in your nipples that isn’t very normal for you. No mind, you would grab a test from under the sink and take it just in case.
Is…is that two lines? Is that two lines?
That’s definitely two lines.
“Shit.”
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Taglist for Really Drives Me Mad: @yunnie-f1 @josephquinnsfreckles @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyss @daniellabrandt @lail1010 @spencerssatchel @bl4ckt00thgr1n @ali-r3n @tlclick73 @vintagehellfire @hellfirefiend @kittydeadbones @luumunson @uncxmfxrtablex @eddiesgfffffffffff @hkurbsjundebi @eddies-puppet @joantje @novelnovella @shady-the-simp @lma1986 @mischieftom @strangerfan3691 @crayongirl-linz @dumblittlebunbun @ick90 @emilyshortcake @lemonmintseltzer @joannamuns9n
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velvetures · 2 months
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COD AU: Intro
AN: I love this. I have so many thoughts in my head. So many it’s killing me inside. Please enable me. God I hope at least one of you likes this enough to talk to me about it. To hc, to literally just share my words with. And yes…. There is a very heavy Ghost/romance element… but I’m totally not against picturing the other options ahaha.
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So I’ve been thinking….
An AU where everyone needs to lay low for a while. Maybe they’re all compromised and someone with enough power and money shows interest to take out the 141 forever. And Laswell, being the problem solver that she is, suggests a safe house of someone close to her. Someone who can be trusted. Not just to provide somewhere physically safe, but also keep a close eye on the team while they’re -somewhat- forcibly being cut off from the world.
So the team are flighted into the middle of god-knows-where in the mountains. A tiny little town -if you can call it that- and they meet their contact.
Not only a girl… but civilian.
She refers to Laswell as Aunt Kate and the Captain and Uncle John. Sweet as can be, and so damn helpful that it’s almost infuriating. Especially to Ghost. She hasn’t seen a single thing about them other than what Laswell has offered, and really appears like she couldn’t care less about opening her house up to them. A house just big enough to fit all four men.
Ghost isn’t sure about the whole thing. It feels wrong being holed up in the deep holler of an Appalachian mountain with a girl not twenty-five. Like some kind of fucked-up movie he wasn’t aware of being cast for. It’s all too strange walking inside her house and seeing photos on the walls, a massive rack of cast iron skillets and pots hanging above her kitchen island, and the way she looks at Price so fondly.
Uncle John…
Something about it rubs him wrong. There’s got to be history there… at least enough for her to feel the right to call Price that. But he’s never heard of her before. And this kind of arrangement isn’t one to taken lightly. There are people hunting the 141… A threat so well documented that they couldn’t even just turn a blind eye and wait for the smoke to clear.
The sweet thing doesn’t notice Ghost’s apprehension.
But she does recognize Price’s excitement in seeing her, as well as his slight disappointment that she’d offered to do this. She’s too good to get involved in matters of war, and he’s honestly surprised that Kate let you. But then again, there could only be so much disappointment he could find in seeing his goddaughter. And funnily enough, there’s a sense of relief he has in seeing how well she’s done for herself since he saw her last.
Intelligent, scarily so. But not in an overt way. He can see it in the way she collects rainwater for watering the little garden out back, and the pistol safe tucked under her bed with a thumbprint scanner. He notices the small town she’d bought her home in, and the relatively tight community. Maybe a little old-fashioned… but it’s good in case something goes wrong. And right now, it’s paying off.
Unbelievably welcoming too… but Kate and John always knew there’d come a day when she’d get a chance to ‘mother’ someone. And now she’d have four men to do exactly that for. Even from day one, she’s already made trips to the store, rearranged her whole home, and bought god-knows-what in anticipation for their arrival.
What’s each of your favorite food, I’ll make lists so I never run out of dinner ideas.
Any preferences on how I should come and go around my the house? I don’t want to startle anyone.
Did you need anything you didn’t bring? If I can’t get it in town or online I’ll text Aunt Kate and have her get it…
She’s nearly frantic to get them settled, and everyone reacts in a muted tone of shock save for Price. He’s well-aware thanks to Kate about how excited she is… something about wanting to prove herself. And Jesus if it doesn’t make Price feel a bittersweet burn in his chest as he introduces her to the others. Seeing her wide eyes examining all of them without the slightest hesitation. Memorizing names and faces, and shaking massive, gloved, hands without missing a beat.
She’s got Soap wrapped around her finger on instant. Maybe it’s a big-brother feeling. One like Price holds for her. Since she’s younger than him -unlike his own sisters- there’s something of a chance to be one for a while. Soap almost instantly takes to her Appalachian lilt and bright smile. They’re both too sweet for their own good at times… and Price can tell right away there won’t be a knife sharp enough to cut the two of them apart after this.
Gaz is quietly polite is a way only he can be. Meticulously trying to stay out of her way as she flutters about. Wanting to help her out, but also downright flustered when she demands she be the one to carry their bags to their rooms. It’s a clear sign he’s not used to it… A woman being this damn sweet and intent on ‘helping’ a man. But he takes it in stride. Learning how to help without stepping on her decidedly ‘southern comfort’ style of catering to them. And god if Price doesn’t have to chew the tip of his cigar when she gets on his ass about something. The poor sod looks like a kicked puppy… and he’s certain she’ll end up training him with due time.
Christ above. If Ghost isn’t the most difficult bastard to deal with initially.
He’s much more sour than typical. Lurking in corners, and unable to settle down anywhere for more than an hour. He looks caged in by the comfortable couch and throw blankets. Swallowed by her pleasantly creaky porch swing and sun-couch on the wraparound. Not even her well-used garage housing an old Fold flatbed makes a good refuge for Ghost. She’s all encompassing in a way he can’t come to terms with easily.
Price sees her trying the hardest with him.
The way her voice lowers when addressing him. How she makes a conscious effort to tiptoe around the house after 10pm because that’s when he shuts himself inside his bedroom… She doesn’t exactly know he never sleeps. Dinners are often served close to the time he finally realizes he’s got to come back inside the house… and without fail, she can be found sitting near him.
Not friendly by any means.
But more like a girl who’s found an old bait-dog at the pound and can’t leave well-enough alone. Sitting with her back it to and tossing treats over her shoulder. Hoping silently that the old, scarred, dog will come around. Damn near predatory in a sweet kind of way. Price can tell she means well. She can see the same thing everyone else on the team can… and she’s just going about it her way.
She’s good like that. Maybe a little too good.
But John can’t deny he enjoys seeing it. All of it really. The way she dotes on them individually. Consistently. Hell, she even does their laundry and bought separate baskets to keep things neat and tidy. The fridges -yes… multiple- all are set with their preferences in drinks, and she’s scarily observant when things need replaced. Toothpaste… shoelaces… socks… there’s no missing anything. Brands and sizes don’t seem to be a problem either, to some shock and mortification.
Uncle John, what’s Soap mean when he says he misses Irn-Bru?
His quick and unconcerned explanation goes without another notice… until he sees Johnny taking a long drink from a bottle of it while sitting on a rocking chair on the back porch watching some hummingbirds fight over richly dyed sugar water.
John’s often preoccupied with worrying about the plans of those head-hunting them and what Kate’s doing behind the scenes in the meantime. But it’s clear there’s nothing concerning his goddaughter but whether or not they’re all fed, warm, and comfortable in her house…
Whether Ghost likes it or not.
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Comments are so heavily appreciated on this… I want to make this more of what I talk about & I can’t keep it all on a notebook under my bed.
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mediumgayitalian · 2 months
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prev chapter
———
“Okay,” Will says, when they’re comfortably on the road. This early in the morning, Highway 17 is practically empty; nothing but sunny skies and clear air rushing through the open roof. The emptiness may also be attributed to the fact that it is a random Tuesday. “Pick a number between one and nine.”
“Uh, five.”
“Good choice, good choice.”
He opens the centre console, digging around Nico’s – well, and his, at this point – collection of CDs to find the right one. He makes a little noise of triumph when he finds it, blowing on the back and wiping it on his shirt before sliding it into the port.
“One half-assed polish isn’t gonna fix those scratches, Solace,” he teases.
“If you weren’t such an emo fuck, Playlist Five wouldn’t be so scratched.”
Nico laughs, conceding this round. Will looks inordinately pleased, nose scrunching along with his tiny smile even as Linkin Park starts blasting through the speakers, which he hates.
“Three songs ‘til Britney,” he grouches as Nico starts hollering along to Points of Authority. Nico shakes his head, still grinning – as if he didn’t make these playlists. If he is truly so miserable, he wouldn’t have put the song on at all.
(Nico knows, in the very back of his mind, that Will actually and truly cannot stand Linkin Park. To him, it’s not music at all. He has never been able to get into it, as much as he truly likes music of every genre. If Linkin Park is on this playlist, and they’re on more than one of the playlists Will has made specifically for their shared car rides, it’s because he cares about Nico more than he hates the band. Nico shoves this knowledge deep into the dustiest corners of his mind, because that’s more than he can afford to think about.)
The next couple hours pass by comfortably. There isn’t much to remark on the side of the road except the odd fruit stand, or farm advertising eggs and honey, so onward Nico drives. He keeps an eye on the odometer, but mostly trusts Will’s calculations. If he says they won’t need gas ‘til Anthony, wherever the hell that is, Nico believes him. 
“Highway changes to the 98 through here,” Will says, nodding to the tiny sign that boasts nothing except Ft. Meade CITY LIMITS, right next to the giant banner half the size of the church it's attached to that reads, REPENT OR BURN. 
Ah, Florida. Please one day change.
“Do I need to exit?”
“Nope, the road just changes to a different number.”
He eases off the gas as they approach the tiny town, watching carefully for state troopers. And, like, children, probably. So far he’s passed twelve gun ranges and one school, but whatever. He can have priorities, even if this garbage state doesn’t.
“Hm. 98 is a better number.”
“Absolutely not,” Will tells him, aghast. “17 is a prime number!”
“Ninety-eight is more fun to say. Also, prime numbers suck.”
“You take that back –”
Nico slides up his sunglasses, shaking his head fondly. Nerdiest nerd to ever nerd. He would be embarrassed if he wasn’t so endeared.
He presses back on the accelerator as they exit the town, turning up the music as Will’s rant ends. He shucks off his shoes – Feet off my goddamn dash, Solace – and curls up into his seat, burying himself in a book. Nico glances away from the road to try and read the title, but quickly gives up since the font is bright fucking purple, for some reason, and in some horrible looping shape that he knows will give him a migraine. All graphic designers should be in prison. 
“Hey, there’s apparently a gator reserve forty-five minutes ahead.” Nico squints again at the book. Barely, he can make out “roadside” and “weird”. “‘Weird American Roadside Attractions’,” Will reads aloud, noticing Nico looking. “Such as a very nice and highly rated gator reserve –”
“No.”
“Road trip, Nico. Adventure.”
“I’m super happy to adventure away from living fucking dinosaurs, Solace.”
“Aw, come on, they’re kinda cute –”
“Two thousand pounds per square inch of jaw strength! You are the one who told me that!”
“You don’t think you could take one in a fight?”
Nico stares at his best friend incredulously. He’s got a thoughtful little frown on his face, looking at the sky as he contemplates. Nico notices, vaguely, that the shade of his irises is the exact same colour. 
“No, I do not. Obviously.” He pauses. “You think you could take a fuckin’ gator?”
“I think it’s possible.”
“See, that’s crazy, because fifteen seconds ago I genuinely believed you were an intelligent person.”
“Do not lie to me and tell me you don’t have a list of animals you know you could take in a fight,” Will says, instead of rising to the bait. He waits, meeting Nico’s glare, eyebrows raised.
“An ostrich,” Nico admits, begrudgingly. “I feel like – one good punch to the throat –”
Will smiles smugly at him. “That’s what I thought.” He turns back to his book, fiddling with the corner of a page. “Also, ostriches are more closely related to dinosaurs than alligators. So. Check and mate, motherfucker.”
They pull into Anthony at around eleven, at pretty much exactly a quarter tank – just like Will predicted. He looks inordinately pleased about it, so Nico shoots off a quick prayer to the karma gods. 
He trips on his way out of the Jeep. Nico smirks.
“I’m gonna go stretch my legs,” he says, unaware of Nico’s hand in his humbling. Nico waves him off, attention turned to the gas pump.
Annoyingly, as he pulls out his card and handles the pump, he remembers Will’s scrunched nose and pursed lips as he’d explained, when they were 16, how gas station pumps were frequently more germy than their toilets, and cleaned approximately one hundred percent less. Suddenly, his hand begins to feel grimey.
Twelve bags of chips, a gas station slushie, and a pair of clean hands later, Will is still nowhere to be found. Nico frowns, craning his neck to look around the tiny parking lot as if he somehow missed Will’s neon orange shirt the first time he looked. Still not catching sight of him, he walks hesitantly back to the Jeep, tucking his snacks away and biting his lip, contemplating. Will is both very fast and very easily distracted, but he has enough sense not to go too far in a random town five hours from home. If he sticks by the car and waits, Will’ll be back soon. 
But, on the other hand, waiting is torture.
Easy decision, really.
He locks the door, hopes that no one will show up with a pair of wire cutters and a flathead screw driver, and sets off. The first thing he notices, and he adds it to his mental list of things to loudly complain about when Will is locked in the car with him, is that it is fucking sweltering. In the hours approaching the afternoon, the day has gone to pleasantly warm to so hot the air is actually thick with it, and he doesn’t have wind ripping through the open windows to cool him down. Plus, he’s wearing jeans, and for the first, and hopefully only, time in his life, he envies his friend’s cargo shorts. 
The second thing he notices is that Anthony, Florida, is empty as shit. All the love in his heart to the people who call it home, but also, move, maybe. He’s hesitant to stray too far from the gas station, in case Will comes back and finds him gone, but there are no hills or anything. He can see quite far down the road. The only thing he sees is a possum starting a fight with a poor random guy – which, actually, is kind of fun to watch. 
Perhaps he has judged Anthony too harshly. 
“Nico!” shouts a voice, startling him. He whips around and finds Will, standing in the goddamn centre of the road, the dumbass, waving like a lunatic.
“There is no possible way I was going to miss you,” Nico informs him when he’s close enough. “You are approximately the height of the Washington monument. I could not miss you if I tried.”
“I wasn’t waving to get your attention, I was waving to shoo away the eagles that mistook you for a mouse.”
Nico kicks him in the shin. Will, well used to his violence, dodges, grinning, except in the act of hopping away from Nico’s dangerously hardy boots, he somehow wraps his foot around his own ankle and goes sprawling.
Nico smirks. “Who’s the short one now.”
Faster than he can even follow, Will’s hand darts out, wrapping around his ankle, and tugs, yanking him yelping on the asphalt next to him. 
“Foul!”
“All’s fair in love and war, Neeks.”
Shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up, Nico screams at the alarm bells blaring in his brain, he doesn’t mean it like that and you know it oh shit he’s looking this way quick look normal look normal –
“I can do war if that’s what you want, Solace,” he manages, honestly quite proud of himself for managing speech with approximately fourteen percent of his brain still functioning. Damn.
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway.” He crawls to his feet, offering Nico a hand. He takes it, dutifully fighting the urge to pull Will down again, just to be an asshole. He’s cool like that, and most definitely being normal about the scrape of Will’s callused fingers against the inside of his forearm. “I found maybe the funniest thing I’ve ever seen, and I need you to come look at it immediately.”
“Sick,” Nico says, immediately intrigued. He and Will have their differences, sure, but if there’s one thing they can agree on it’s their sense of humour. 
He follows will down the road, passing the gas station again. (His car, thankfully, remains in one piece and beautifully not-robbed.) They dark across an empty intersection, walking across a yellowed lawn as they approach a run-down, patchy, one-storey bungalow with a rusted sign that reads: The Iron Works.
“Behold,” says Will gleefully, “the Abstract Iron Centaur.”
And behold, Nico does.
Gaping, he observes the structure standing proudly under the sign. Striding proudly, rather, its front legs bent to simulate movement, its human arms poised as if ready to strike. It wears a medieval knight’s helmet, and holds a rusted axe. The entire structure is a little taller than Will, and made of, presumably, iron, rusted into a light roan red.
“Abstract Iron Centaur,” Nico repeats, after several minutes of silence.
Will still looks delighted. “It was in my book. I had no idea what to expect and also I didn’t believe it was real. Isn’t it the greatest thing you’ve ever seen?”
“It’s…something.”
“We gotta take a picture, Neeks. I never want to forget this thing.”
Nico allows himself to be pulled, still somewhat bewildered. It’s not even the oddest thing he’s ever seen, it’s just – he has many questions, like, for example, why? How long has this creature existed? How long will it persist? Who created it? Why is it in Will’s dorky book? Does it house a soul?
“Okay, squish in, this camera is older than your elderly ass and doesn’t have a timer.”
The familiar jab breaks him out of his stupor. “Seven months older than you, fucker.”
“Geriatric.”
Without warning, Will crowds them under the Abstract Iron Centaur’s lifted arm, and then presses his widely grinning cheek right flush to Nico’s, raising his beat-up camera to the air.
Nico’s brain goes static.
“Say cheese!”
“Hnngh,” says Nico, as the camera blinds him.
Luckily for his continuously worsening blood pressure, Will pulls away the second he hears the click, shaking the ejected negative to help it develop, and Nico has a second to remind his lungs that they have a function, actually, get your shit together, I am not dying in fucking Anthony, Florida. 
“You look like a dork!” Will says, delighted. “Look!”
Blinking at the photo shoved one sixteenth of an inch from his eyeballs, Nico indeed looks. The Abstract Iron Centaur looks more foreboding on camera, somehow, but Nico barely notices it – instead, he finds his gaze drawn to the beam so wide it forces Will’s eyes shut, and the dazed, dopey look on his own face; eyes wide, mouth dropped, slightly, and posture undeniably leaning into Will’s magnetism. 
Humming to himself, Will slips his wallet out of (one of) the (many) pocket(s) of his shorts, tucking the photo inside it. Nico melts into a puddle of goo on the dead grass. His mortal soul escapes his body, descending rapidly. His atoms return to star dust. Et cetera.
“Oh, shit, we gotta go if we want to reach Georgia in good time.”
“Right,” says Nico, voice cracking. He clears his throat and tries again. “Let’s go.”
He absolutely does not haul ass to his car. He walks at a normal pace, for normal reasons, thoughts in a normal place. 
“Back on the 75,” Will instructs as they peel out, sliding sunglasses on his nose. “We gotta scoot around town a bit to get to the entrance, but it won’t take long.”
“D’you know this place?” Nico asks, even though he doubts it. As far as he knows, Will was outside of Sarasota one time: in the move from Austin. He supposes his mother might have had a concert up here, or something, and unusually, let him tag along, but he doubts it.
“Nah, just memorised the map.”
Nico hides a smile. “Oh, of course.”
It’s all too easy to tease Will, but there was a reason he was valedictorian. There’s a reason for his many shining scholarship offers, his endless well of ridiculous facts pulled from nowhere. He is, genuinely, the smartest person Nico has ever met.
Even if he genuinely believes he can fight an alligator and win.
“Two hours ‘til we cross state lines,” Will says brightly, shouting slightly over the wind as they merge onto the highway. “And then on to infinity!”
“Onto infinity,” Nico agrees, matching his smile. 
Already, he’s proved Nico wrong. They’re farther now than Will has been since he was seven, and there’s nothing in his expression that suggests he wants to slow down. 
Privately, and quietly, Nico lets himself start to hope. 
———
next chapter
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levmada · 1 year
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Levi being so fucked out, he actually falls asleep for once. On top. Even drooling a little onto your shoulder. When he wakes, the morning is almost over and he feels finger gently brushing through his hair and stroking his bare shoulders. He feels so rested but is also so embarrassed. And he blushes so hard, when he gets told that this will surely happen again.
YESSS I'm all for fucking Levi's brains out. Normally, he would fall asleep after you even if it takes conscious effort to, especially after sex, even if it was vanilla to any extent—slow and tender, praise-filled, or simply fooling around. he wants to guarantee you're cared for after even if it's logically unnecessary. It's the kind of person he is.
But then, one night you have him coming so hard, and draining his balls multiple times in the process, that he dozes off without even showering off first. That's definitely a first for him. outright out of character even.
That night, still bathing in the receding afterglow, your eyes are heavy too, but you can't stop smiling at his peaceful, sleeping face beside you. A loose fist is tucked under his chin and his hair frames his face; with most of the lines gone around his eyes, he looks almost boyish in his sleep.
But you know what will happen if he wakes up a mess. So first you take a trip to the bathroom, clean yourself up at the minimum, and bring out a rag for him.
Somehow Levi sensed your disappearance, so his tender gaze is visible from the head of the bed when you exit the bathroom. He hasn't moved.
"C'mere."
"Where else would I be going?" you croon. The bed sags where you again sit, and wipe his temples of dried sweat, any sticky messes from his navel, and his inner thighs.
He simply grunts, eyes closing again. "Hm."
Once you're finished and back in bed for good, he gravitates to you without any real goal in mind after you tug a thin sheet over you both. His head resting on your soft breast, so his hair tickles your chin; arm draped across your waist, one of his legs intertwined with yours. His breathing slows within a minute.
It's a little like a cat kittylevikittylevikittylevi falling asleep on top of you. It's rare, and if you dare move, it's all over. No disturbing him.
Only late into the next morning, sunlight properly penetrating the curtains, does he stir from a dream he can't remember. He slept like a fucking rock, he realizes immediately, and god, he slept - deep enough to dream, and so deep enough to have a nightmare, but he slept better than he has in weeks. He inhales, and furrows his brow. He's warm. Smells like you, but then sex, too.
Fingers slowly carding through his hair wakes him fully. His head shoots up, in stark contrast to a minute ago when he rested peacefully, and wipes his mouth automatically. How the fuck, he thinks, can you be smiling that fondly at him when he drooled on your shoulder in his sleep. In moments, his face is hot.
"Sorry," he mumbles, and looks down at himself. He's still naked, and he fell asleep before you, which was thoughtless of him.
That has you gaping at him. "Oh, no you don't," you murmur. By taking his shoulders, you drag him back down on his side in front of you this time, and snuggle him from behind.
Once you're settled again, Levi sighs. He's far too embarrassed to fall back asleep, but he relaxes again with the (crazy to him) knowledge that you're okay, even pleased, with what happened.
In a couple minutes, you'll both start the day, but for now, it's peaceful.
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stinkythehutt · 6 months
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an AU idea that i’ve been thinking about lately but i’m not sure i’d ever write is: sidious tries to clone a better version of anakin (without his knowledge) from DNA and matter taken from his severed limbs post-mustafar battle. but, with the sustained damage to the limbs and without the help or technology of kamino, none of it takes very well. only one of the clones actually survives and when tested at around age 3-4 it comes out that he isn’t force sensitive. and, also, he’s inherited a lot of anakin’s more disagreeable traits to the extreme, due to genetic changes and the impact of being raised as an almost-not-quite-dark-lord-of-the-sith from birth.
sidious, in a moment of sidious-like dark humor (and rage at the boy for not being what he wanted), arranges for the boy to be sent to tatooine to live under the ‘care’ of the hutts. this goes as you’d expect until, 7 or so years later, this 10-11 y/o furious, messed-up, came-back-wrong-but-somehow-even-worse, unaware he’s a clone of anakin, kid runs into… obi-wan kenobi, hot off the press of the events of the OWK series.
and obi-wan is like, no. nope. i’m not raising this kid. i don’t know how this happened or what the fuck the galaxy has against me now but no. i’ll figure out a way to free him and i’ll send him to live with the lars but i won’t raise him. so he gets anakin2 freed and they have the galaxy’s most hideous road trip out to the lars’ and they get on terribly and this kid is traumatisingly so like all of the worst parts of anakin with none of the redeeming features. he breaks obi-wan’s landspeeder trying to enhance it and he’s disagreeable and irritable and ungrateful and ungenerous and he isn’t even force sensitive or the chosen one. so obi-wan is straight up just putting up with him out of love for his old friend, who is now literally evil and just recently tried to kill him (again).
only obviously over the few days of their journey they warm to each other just a little. and obi-wan goes to leave 2anakin2skywalker with the lars’ and the kid is furious and hurt and they’re trying to comfort him all wrong and obi-wan is like “wait no he hates when you-“ and realises, fuck. i have to look after this kid. i want to look after this kid. there is nothing actually tying me here and no benefit beyond i kind of care about the little shit now. and i want him to be safe and happy in the same way i wanted anakin to be and i don’t know if i’m good enough to give him that but i have to try. because he needs me.
that, like, exploration of ‘what does this relationship boil down to?’ after all the situational ties are stripped away, all the promises and prophecies and shared histories and goals are gone and instead of in TPM where these two people are bound together by fate, now they are simply bound together by chance and choice and care and love. and how does obi-wan choose to navigate that differently. and how do they both grow and process their own histories. obviously spoiler alert they figure it out and the kid grows up tumultuously happy in the end as a sort of bounty-hunter-rebel type figure and he lives somewhat well on tatooine inciting slave rebellions and getting himself into various troubles and adventures. and he’s never force sensitive and he never joins the official rebellion or learns what happened to old ben who raised him til luke happens to run into him and tell him much later. and there’s no big “wow i’m anakin skywalker! i’m secretly magical and amazing!” moment or anything. he’s just a dude who lives a decent somewhat crazy life out in the sand and fondly recalls the father figure who looked after him when no one else would. the end
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olichat-reads · 3 months
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Imagine | ProHero!Bakugou x Villain!Reader #3
Summary: your sides on the field doesn't waver your loyalties to each other
a/n: i haven't posted any fics in a hot minute so i'll just.. yeah.
🌟
You don't even bother looking up when you heard your front door being unlocked, having gotten the heads up from the distinct way your bestfriend fucking stomps all throughout the hallway before he reached the door to your apartment.
"Oi. I haven't seen you in awhile."
"Mm. I've got a big mission to plan for," you mumbled distractedly, going over the newest tips your informant sent in.
Bakugou gave you a once over before walking over to nudge you aside from your laptop, save the document you were working on and promptly shutting it. "Hey-"
"Ass in the kitchen. Now," he all but demanded you, with an underlying threatening glint in his eyes. How dare he. In your own home too. You scoffed at the absolute gall of this man but begrudgingly shuffled after him anyways.
"You look like shit," He snarked as if your exhaustion was the greatest inconvenience in his life. "Stayed home the past 3 weeks and you didn't have time to look after yourself?"
"Its a big mission, Katsu," you clarified, as you slid into a seat at your little kitchen counter, resting your chin onto the palm your hand, watching your bestfriend squirrel around the kitchen with familiar ease.
"Could've asked me for help," he said, not sparing you a glance as he dug your drawers for forks. You raised an inquiring eyebrow at that.
"Its for work, Katsu."
"And?" The bastard popped a pink mochi- your last pink mochi- left on the defenseless countertop into his mouth, chewing loudly. You felt your eye twitch. How dare.
"My villain work?"
"I am aware," he deadpanned.
You couldn't help but huff fondly at that, taking the box of takeout he offered your direction. You smiled at the sight of your favourite order. He even got you that cream cheese crossoint you loved so much even though he says the price is a crime all on its own. You'll forgive him for the mochi theft. Just this once.
"I'm planning to take down some pretty big names, you know?" You started, snapping your chopsticks to mix your food idly, before raising your gaze to meet his. "Dead or alive."
Red eyes held yours.
"My statement still stands."
You stared at each other for a moment, unwavering, both unwilling to back down from where you stood. Eventually, you conceded first.
"Katsu, you're the number one pro hero in Japan. You can't get caught being associated with a villain. Much less actively help me out with the illegal stuff."
"Who said anything about getting caught? I'm not number one for no reason."
You had to huff a laugh at that. "I doubt the reason is to help a villain though, Ground Zero."
"I'm helping you, dumbass."
You blinked at that, before tilting your head, confused.
"That doesn't change anything? I am a villain." Katsuki rolled his eyes like you were the being so fucking stupid.
"Are you now?"
"Yes? Wh-" you tripped over your own words, apalled at what Bakugou was trying to say. "I am. I'm villain Red. Top 5 most wanted villains in Musutafu. Succeeded in evading three top 10 Pro Hero during the biggest heist in Musutafu in the last decade. Responsible for the serial assasination of multiple big named Pros and political figures. Do I need to go on?"
"Yeah, yeah, no need to read me your entire evil resume-"
"ExcUse mE-"
"It doesn't matter," your bestfriend said with such finality, his eyes blazing with an intensity that made your jaw clicked shut. "You're still that snot-nosed brat I promised to watch her back because her situational awareness is shit."
"First of all. We were 8, Katsu. Secondly, rude. I've gotten way better and you know it."
"You're also the same Y/n that cried herself into a panic attack because you couldn't save that kid, even when it wasn't your fault. The same Y/n who has standards even when it comes to crime and isn't afraid to make it known to the rest of the world, good and bad. You may be gray but I know for a fact your victims aren't as sporadic as you make them seem. You're not the big, bad villain you let the world see. I know that."
You had to huff out a ghost of a laugh at that. Of course the great Ground Zero saw through your facade as a feral assasin with body counts piling up faster than
"Your point?"
"I trust you." with my everything went unsaid, but you heard it all the same. Clear as the day. You couldn't help but falter, any protests or arguments ready to slip of your tongue dissolving into exasperated fondness you had for this stupid blonde in front of you.
"..Thanks, Katsu."
You knew if he ever asked for help for his side of the job, you wouldn't hesitate for a second. It was a risk you're willing to take, every time, if it meant keeping your best friend alive. Sometimes it was hard to believe that this devotion went both ways.
"Ok. Now that we all that gross mushy stuff aside," Bakugou started, making you laugh. "Who are we killing?" And there goes the moment, you sighed, rolling your eyes.
"Katsu, I swear. You need to turn down the condoning crime thing. You're making me nervous."
"Tsk. And to think you were just bragging about being the top 5 wanted villains-"
"I can still make it to top three if I kill you now, you know. So, shut it, Ground Zero," you growled, only to bristle even further at the feral grin that spread over your bestfriend's face.
"There's the big scary villain-"
"I will throw you out the fucking window don't TEMPT me-"
🌟
a/n: i have a bunch of unfinished drafts that i might just post as is and call em drabbles bc CLEARLY. they're not gonna be finished anytime soon :')
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I go a bit crazy when I remember that article mentioning how Izzy wants to be owned, which could be taken as just sexually but also more like belonging to/with someone romantically. If you're ever inclined, it would be very cute to see Izzy melting when his SO calls by possive petnames. As their relationship progresses the more they call him 'my love', 'my dear', 'my darling', 'my sweetheart', 'my Izzy'. He secretly loves it, and not so secretly when it happens during more sexy, intimate activities. Also, your writing has only gotten better and better as you've published. Thank you for sharing your lovely work!
Thank you so much, I hope I'm always improving. There are so many talented people in this fandom! Sorry this is kinda short!
Warnings: short NSFW scene
Your Izzy:
Izzy knew that you were a possessive partner, he liked that you were a possessive partner. What he had to come to terms with was the difference between the possession you expressed and the form of possession that he was used too.
Edward, Blackbeard, had been possessive. Izzy was his first mate, his right hand, his weapon.
Yours was a tender possession, a requited possession. He was yours, fully and wholly, but you were equally his.
You had always been a fan of using pet names, ever since the two of you got together. Izzy wasn't used to it at first, wasn't used to hearing somebody refer to him with such sweet names, meaning it so sincerely. Whenever you called him 'love' or 'hun' or 'sweetheart', you would have this look in your eyes. Something incredibly soft and tender, downright adoring.
It had been a lot but he got used to it, came to adore it. To need it.
Then you had apparently decided that you needed to throw him off again, to make him need you more.
'Love' had become 'My Love', a small change that you never addressed but Izzy certainly noticed. And when you did it the second time, he knew the first hadn't been a slip of the tongue, and then you just continued with it.
All your usual endearments turned possessive. He wasn't just a sweetheart (though he would deny he was anyway), he was your sweetheart. Your love. Your dearest. Your darling. Yours.
It was already too much, more than Izzy thought he could ever deserve, but then you had to completely ruin him.
There you both had been, locked away in his cabin. You had long since stripped him of his clothes, had been edging him for god knows how long. He had lost count of the amount of orgasms you had drew him up to before denying him of it.
With you hand wrapped around him, you had lent in to him. You placed a tender kiss to his cheek, the softness almost making him sob, before mouthing at the shell of his ear.
"So good for me, my love," you cooed, "come for me now, my sweet. My wonderful, sweet, Izzy."
"My Izzy," and that's all it took, Izzy's vision whiting out as he spilled into your hand.
Once he came back to his senses, he was greeted by the sight of you cleaning him up and whispering words of love and care, smiling at him.
"Fuck..." Izzy breathed out, unable to find any other word to describe how he was feeling.
"I bet," you chuckled fondly, pressing a kiss to his lips. "My Izzy," your tone was only half teasing, clearly you had noticed how much it had affected him. And the little hitch of his breath gave it away all over again.
Izzy had nearly tripped over his own feet when he first heard you refer to him as yours to somebody else. It hadn't been aggressive or hostile, it was casual and that's what caught him the most off guard. Sure, if you were laying your claim that would make sense, but you just sounded proud to call him yours.
"That's My Iz, for you."
"I highly doubt My Izzy would have given you a break."
"No thanks, I'm having supper with My Izzy tonight."
You said it like it was the most natural thing in the word, but every time it felt like a declaration to him.
And whenever somebody refers to him as yours in some way, even if it's playful, he makes him feel some sort of way. Like Lucius calling him your Izzy teasingly when complaining about him. Or when you were speaking with Stede and he so sincerely called him your partner.
Izzy didn't think he would like it, thought he would feel mocked or something, but that wasn't the case. It just cemented everything, the whole crew knew he belonged too and he didn't care if the whole Caribbean knew. He might even like it.
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boxdstars · 9 months
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The Tally
In which Sebastian isn’t subtle
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Word count: 1.1k
Sebastian Sallow x Gn!MC
Ft. OC content (not romantic)
MC is chilling in the background, good for them
A/N: fuck it Mara content. Basically, I want more Sebastian & oc antics, but without any romantic strings attached. Also i'm rusty with fanfic, please forgive me LOL
Sebastian wasn’t paying attention. He’s trying to, he really is. But his mind drifts back to… them. And well, how could it not? He fondly recalled their recent trip to the Forbidden Forest before a familiar voice brought him back to reality.
“Eleven..” Mara marks down with a flick of her quill then resumes back to her potions assignment. 
Sebastian frowns. For the past week, his friend has been making a tally. It’s been absolutely unbearable. One moment they’ll be in the midst of a lesson and the next moment she’s muttering a ‘thirteen’ or ‘twenty-seven’ under her breath before jotting it down in the margins of her schoolwork.
It’s insufferable.
And what’s worse - she won’t tell him what she’s counting.
He attempted to look, but Professor Sharp came to their side of the room, so Sebastian returned to his own (notably sparse) notes. It was difficult to pay attention when he was so insatiably curious. The rest of the class was a blur.
It kept on happening. In Herbology, in Defense against the Dark arts, in Charms, even History of Magic. She’d be half awake, face almost plummeting into the desk, and yet Mara would still have the audacity to add to her ever-growing list. 
Fine, whatever. She was jotting down numbers in class. Why did he care? Sure, it was incredibly annoying, and sure, nothing irked him more than her hiding it from him, but still. It’s not as if he was entitled to know.
But then that infernal list came out during dinner. He couldn’t take it anymore.
Mara elbowed Imelda and whispered, “I think it’s at 64 today alone.” To which the other girl snorted, cupping her mouth behind her hands.
He kicks Mara underneath the table, and she nearly skyrockets out of her seat. “So you told Reyes and not me?”
“What are you talking about?” 
His eyes narrow. “You know.”
“Do I?”
“Let me see it.”
She leans back, as if contemplating if she should or not. Eventually Mara relents and pulls out the tiny piece of parchment she’d been furiously scribbling in. She slid it over to him in one fluid motion.
Desperately, he snatched it from her, his brows still furrowed. But she’d given it to him at the very least, which had to count for something.
He opens it up and the short slab of paper unfurls into a long, grandiose scroll that rolls right into his lap. As expected, there’s a lot of numbers written down the middle, but to his horror, right there at the top in bold fancy lettering, read the following:
'How Many Times Sebastian has talked about (and/or looked at)…'
And there it was, their name. In equally fancy lettering: the former new fifth year, current Hero of Hogwarts. The list was long, half as long as it was comprehensive. No, it wasn’t just a string of tally marks, each was grouped into a specific class, on a specific date. With each being totaled at the end of the day. She had put more effort into this than her schoolwork, which was a minor consolation, all things considered.
“It started as a joke, but we just kept going.”
“We?!”
Then he saw, below the title, began the tally. Mara’s chicken-scratch handwriting was prominent, but to his chagrin he noticed several other familiar letterings. Notably, Ominis’ skilled hand had jotted down additional notes in the far left margin. 
“I told you, you have a problem.” She shrugs, and Sebastian has to bite his tongue to argue that this is far more of a problem than his infatuation could ever be.
But then, Sebastian’s eyes skim the very bottom and there it is. It’s a small animated, yet crude drawing of him. The drawing of miniature Sebastian had comically oversized hearts instead of eyes. 
He gapes, “You can’t be serious.”
“Deadly.”
“I admit, she has far too much time on her hands.” Ominis quips from his side, but Sebastian doesn’t need to look at his friend to hear the smirk in his voice.
“Don’t start.” He frowns. “You’ve been in on this too!”
“You’re not particularly subtle, Sebastian.” The boy reminds him.
“The list can’t be this long.” He pushes the parchment away and points a finger accusingly at the girls seated across from him. “You snuck some in here, I know it.” 
Imelda and Mara both give him an incredulous look, as if wrackspurts were growing out of his ears. Had he been that obvious? Clearly.
“I don’t fancy them.” Is all he can sputter out.
Her eyes narrowed. “Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m sure you’ll have no qualms about them going on a date with Andrew Larson tomorrow.” She grins deviously.
She couldn’t be serious. This was all just another ploy. Mara got a kick out of his suffering. It was the quirk of their friendship. There’s no way someone like them would go out with Andrew Larson. Right? But now he couldn’t be sure.
He craned his neck over to look at them, ignoring how that only meant Mara would add her another tally to the list.. and there they were. They wore a bright smile as they combed stray hairs out of their face, laughing alongside the rest of their housemates. Thankfully, no sign of Andrew Larson. 
Still… no - he had to make sure. Surely he could find an excuse to steal them away for an afternoon. Perhaps some sparring practice in the Undercroft, or another hairbrained scheme to sneak into the restricted section. 
But just as Sebastian is ruminating over what exactly he plans on saying, their eyes meet his. Warm and inviting with cheeks slightly flushed from the prolonged eye contact, it takes everything in him not to run over there immediately. Out from under the table, he feels someone kick him. Half expecting it to be Mara, he’s quick to retort but looks over to see it’s Imelda instead.
“Go on, Sallow, make my day.” Her voice couldn’t be more sarcastic even if she tried.
He grumbled but stood up. He had to. What if that infernal list made its way to them, of all people? Not that his three friends would be so malicious as to do that - but the castle walls themselves are ripe with gossip. No, he’ll tell them right now if he has to. If Sebastian played his cards right, this would all be but a distant memory.
It’s only when he’s out of earshot that the three Slytherins fall into their usual gossip, the list of tally marks soon to be foregone entirely. 
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metalheadcowboy · 2 years
Text
"Did you mean what you said that day?"
Steve looked up at Eddie from where his head was laying in the center of the other man's chest, narrowly avoiding a still healing demobat wound on his side, "Huh?" He had gotten so lost in the feeling of Eddie's fingers gently massaging his scalp that the content of their conversation had gotten lost somewhere in translation.
Eddie scoffed a laugh at his boyfriends oblivious nature, "Y'know, in the trailer the day that..." he cleared his throat, looking from Steve back to the ceiling as his head fell onto the barely there pillow the hospital provided from him.
"Yeah," Steve finished for him, sparing him the pain of expanding. If he thought about it too long himself he swore he could feel the pain in his sides, in his throat, tighter and tighter and tighter-
"Anyways, when you were talking to Wheeler, about the RV and the kids, all that shit," Steve let out a soft whine, burying his face back into Eddie's chest, as if he were ashamed he'd ever spoken his fantasy aloud in the first place, "Did you mean it?"
Eddie could sense Steve's embarrassment, stroking his thumb along the soft jut of the brunette's cheekbone, "I mean, sure," Steve finally decided, "But it's just a stupid dream, the crap you make up when you've got nothing better to think about, y'know?" something in his tone shifted, laced with a certain sense of sadness and longing that made Eddie think it was more than just some 'stupid dream'.
"I don't think it's stupid," he remarked, free hand reaching to intertwine his fingers with those of Steve's own resting between his ribs, careful of his IV, "I mean... six kids, yeah maybe." Eddie pinched Steve's cheek earning him a chuckle and a swatting motion, "But traveling the country, seeing the mountains, family life... all that sappy movie shit." Steve poked him in his good side, soft wheeze of a laugh irrupting from Eddie's throat, "Sounds kinda nice."
He smiled down at Steve, chapped lips upturning as much as his bandage covered stitches would allow, "Or maybe they've had me in here so long anything outside of this prison sounds like a trip to fucking Disney World." Steve shifted, nuzzling his face into Eddie's neck, long curls tickling his nose as he grinned fondly, inhaling a scent that wasn't quite his own but familiar.
"Oh! We should go to Disney World, man," Eddie piped up excitedly, voice starting to go hoarse from talking too much, as it did after only a few remarks these days. Gently, Steve pulled at a more ringlet curl near the nape of the older mans neck.
"We should go to Disney World," he agreed, letting his eyes fall closed at the newfound warmth in Eddie's space, and the soothing vibrations coming from his throat, also wrapped mostly in gauze.
"Think Steve Jr. 'd like space mountain?" Eddie questioned, burying his nose in the top of Steve's quaff, hair smelling more like his honey wheat shampoo than of Farrah Fawcett spray these days.
Steve couldn't help but roll his eyes under his lids, but o the inside his heart was gooey and soft at the thought, "Are you kidding?" he inquired, plush lips pressing a chaste kiss to the prickly skin of Eddie's jaw, "He'd love it."
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illussy · 2 years
Note
forgive me if you are done with requests but how about soft yan giorno taking darling’s virginity. just tender lovemaking aaagghhh
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omg i'm sorry i took so long, i went on a trip that had me so busy for days and aaaa!!!! but here i am jfdfgkj this is the first time i write for Giorno so pls excuse me if it's ooc:( I really hope you like it either way🥺💕 (if youre not comfortable with this request, you can always feel free to ask again!!!)
Warnings: aged up character, afab reader, yandere behaviors, loss of virginity, sliiight breeding kink?? and i think that's all♡
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Giorno Giovanna always loves hearing about you and anything you have to say.
He could be listening to hours on end without making any comment himself, just let you talk about the things you love, the things you hate, personal experiences, how you preferred your coffee, your favorite nail polish, and such others that could be boring to some people, but absolutely not for him. He believes people who interrupt your own discourse to talk about themselves are fucking disrespectful and selfish, why can't they wait until you are finished talking? He would never understand that. And he knows you probably had to suffer that a lot. Should he ever see someone doing that in front of him, consequences will be damned. Without making it noticeable to you, blonde be staring deathly at them, making it clear they've fucked up and will make sure they pay back for it. If it's someone you don't know, he won't do much since you'll probably never see them again, but if it is someone you do know, he's getting really mad, how come you could have someone like that as a "friend" in your life? With skilled words, he's already convincing you to be cautious of that said person, explaining with ease why you should not be seeing them anymore.
Should you listen to him or not is up to you, don't act surprised when they don't show up anymore though. At least now you won't have that problem again and you also have him instead of those fake friends, so you can always feel open to blether as much as you wish for.
There's very few things about you that could leave him silent. Giorno is someone who doesn't get surprised easily, no matter the situation he always has something to say to reassure you or make you feel better whatsoever.
And when you shyly decided to tell him that you were still a virgin, it was surely a surprise, not one to leave him with no words, but one that excited him. He did not show that to you of course, he was very poised as he heard you, keeping a neutral expression with a soft, comforting smile, elegance and grace carrying his features, slightly nodding at your words. 
But on the inside, the thought of being the first one to take your innocence away was very dearing. He was lowkey hoping you were a virgin, no one could ever make you feel as good as he can and will make sure you'd never have to worry about your own pleasure.
And so, he wanted to make your first time a very special night, with your favorite scented incense, a slow jazz music if you preferred or just a romantic novel on the TV, a very dim light to entice your features, window slightly open to let the fresh breeze inside, he also got ready with some fruit, water, and a few blankets in case you get cold. Starting with a slow foreplay, eyes roaming all over your naked body sheepishly sprawled on the bed, hands sweetly grazing your thighs, massaging and pinching on the chub, passing by your most needing zone to the stomach, holding on your waist and resisting the urge to give into yet. Eyes locked firmly on yours, cheeks flushed with embarrassment you were struggling to keep an eye contact. A fondly smile found its way into his face, admiring how cute you looked like this.
Leaning in to kiss you sweetly for like the tenth time in the night, the Don limited himself to teasing, slight touches, and little kisses all over your body, not enough to satisfy that lust growing in your throbbing center.
A final look into your eyes to find the encouragement needed for his next action, he went back down to your thighs with languid kisses, enjoying the slight tremble of your warm skin in contact with wet lips. Your flushed cunt begging for the minimal attention, already dripping with arousal, and as his tongue made swift knowing moves on your engorged clit your walls were clenching tightly around nothing, man was completely enjoying in the flavor and scent it provided, eyes closed listening to the sweet moans and whimpers coming from your mouth at his expert tonguing. Squelching sounds could be heard all over the bedroom signaling you were getting closer. Giorno tentatively inserted a finger in, unsure if it would hurt, but when feeling your walls contracting tightly around it and seeing no negative reaction in your body expression, he decided to continue with yet another one, your eager pussy sucking them in quickly. Rapid thrusts with dexterous fingers and nimble sucking on swollen clit, was all you needed to reach a heavy - full orgasm, shoving your hips into his chin as you abruptly started squirting fluids on his face. Shaking and holding onto the pillows above your head, the Don kept on until he felt you getting overstimulated, making sure to drink every last drop before pulling back.
Taking in your disheveled form on the bed, he waited until you opened your eyes to continue. You giggled heartedly as you nodded your head and opened more your legs to let him get in between them, the head of his cock skimming your sensitive clit making you tremble. Giorno smiled at you and caressed your cheeks before kissing you sweetly.
Moving in slowly, chest touching and hands intertwined together, your breath hitched as a swift feeling of pain surrounded your lower body. Wet kisses on the most sensitive part of your neck along a thumb doing circular motions on your clit for a few minutes were enough to relieve from the sharp stinging, giving place to a rich pleasure in copious amounts almost instantly. As he started moving leisurely again, you began to relax more your body, trusting your boyfriend to make you feel good like he promised. Smiling up at him and biting your lip to muffle any sounds, at this view he couldn't help but to fight the urge of cumming right there. It wasn't even probably your intention but god, you looked so hot like this.
Breathing in quickly, he pushed his hips into yours, resting his elbows on the bed to surround your head with his arms and bury his lips in your own. You wrapped your legs around his waist, not capable of holding back your moans anymore, them only being deadened by the noisy kiss. As it continued sharing looks, kisses and touches, you felt yourself getting closer once again. Sounds coming from your mouth only  getting louder each time, the slick gathering inside you making lewd noises after every deep thrust, nails scratching on his back, holding onto him for dear life as his movements become faster and rigged, finally giving himself the long awaited orgasm from all the build up of pleasuring you, just as you felt your own releasing a few seconds later.
It wasn't as powerful and fervid as the first one, but having something bigger as a stimulant than fingers, felt extremely different and erotic. Groaning right besides your ear, you felt as a warm fluid covered your insides, the sensation not exactly enjoyable yet, but comfortable nonetheless.
As Giorno pulled away to look into your blowsy appearance, you were slowly opening your eyes, panting heavily and still holding onto him. With a sweet smile and a loving kiss, blonde makes sure to clean you up and have a warm bath together after, enjoying the rest of the night cuddling with you.
And if you ever felt the need to have a round two, you are more than welcome to ask for it, as Giorno will happily deliver.
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arcplaysgames · 1 year
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yeah because Mitsuo is not the killer, I know this, you know this, we all know this
if finding a fake killer gets me tuna tho i'm in, i'll frame a man every day, i don't care
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WAIT WAIT THE STORYBOOK FROM THE SUN LINK IN P3P GOT PUBLISHED? Man its a dark children's book. Beautiful but nihilistic. You know the kids who read that are going to have a lot of difficult questions their parents do not wanna answer. Good, though.
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Summer Festival! Nanako is adorable. AND GET THIS. BRACE YOURSELVES. MAKE SURE YOU ARE SITTING DOWN AND HOLDING ONTO SOMETHING.
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DOJIMA ACTUALLY SHOWS UP TO TAKE CARE OF HIS DAUGHTER. I KNOW. I KNOOOOOOW. Shocking. Usually this girl is being raised by six teenagers and the human personification of a mascot character.
A STUNNING turn of events!
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Teddie is such a manipulator lmao. First he suggests everyone pair off to enjoy the festival bc That's What You Do At Festivals, then gets the boys deliberating who should go with who, then while everyone is all turned around, he swoops in to take all the girls out around the festival so no one is 'left out.'
lmao. i love Teddie. I'm actually trying to pin down why Yosuke's horny boy bullshit annoys me but Teddie does not. It may be because he's SO flagrant about it, he's SO over the top, you know going in its a Yes, And scenario. Or, you can slap him, lmao.
After, Rise invited me out to a one on one date to the festival. She's very funny and boisterous but I think I'm friendzoning everyone in this playthru. I haven't found anyone I wanna date. And I know there is one more option coming so I don't want to accidentally pen myself in, like with Akihiko and late-comer Aigis. Poor Aigis.....
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Not about to let anyone begin to assume he's a good dad, over in the Hierophant SLink, Dojima reveals that his wife died in a hit and run while Nanako was in nursery school. Which explains why Nanako barely remembers her.
Dojima's whole deal is that he's still working that case, still trying to find out who killed his wife. He claims its for Nanako, that someday in the future, she'll appreciate it.
And listen. The trauma of your spouse being murdered is not a joke. That's really heavy stuff. Your life falls apart as a pillar is just suddenly taken out, and surviving the loss of that kind of load-bearing structure is very fucking hard. I got zero judgement there.
However. Nanako doesn't give a shit. Her mother is a distant figure that doesn't affect her life anymore but via her absence. There is zero doubt in my mind that Nanako would remember Dojima more fondly as a man who stepped up to be her fucking father rather than having the closure for, sorry, a woman she has likely already forgotten the face of.
So again: get your shit together, Dojima.
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SUMMER BEACH EPISODE. lmao poor kanji on his bike. also, Teddy is in bear mode. WHY is Teddie in bear mode? That seems much harder to travel with.
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I'm not even gonna squint at Yosuke. Yosuke, someday, you will look back on your youth and feel so goddamn embarrassed at yourself. You are the very model of a modern repressed bisexual.
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LMAO irl cackling. his response is so blaise. "why would i????" hahaha
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lmao i missed it but chie and kanji were racing at like mach speed.
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Of course because we need shenanigans, Teddie has been pulling at swimsuits to no avail. Well, almost no avail.
Hey, what is with the lightning bruiser boys and their tiny swimsuits, lmao. We are creating such a Specific trope here with them, it's bemusing. The venn diagram is something all right.
(Wait i JUST fucking noticed that Kanji has a fucking scar in the exact same place Akihiko does. What the fuck. That is a WILD coincidence.)
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FUCKING YOSUKE AND REVERIE'S AVERTED GAZES LMAO. gdi teddie.
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the voice acting here is a fucking treat, i cannot tell you enough.
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everyone's doing amazing, sweetie
compared to the spring camping trip, this is a ten out of ten
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lovingsakusa · 2 years
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happy birthday chad @starorbs ilysm and hope today is full of all the good feelings/vibes!! <3 hope you enjoy
nurseydex headcanons:
nursey steals his friends’ clothes always so he already had a Dex Flannel in his closet and also a Samwell Men’s Hockey Team hoodie that reads POINTDEXTER on the back when they accidentally took each other’s sweaters homes over the holidays once [the latter part from this fic]
but after they begin dating nursey acquires another flannel (a very pretty, worn in green one) and an old bruce springsteen t-shirt and regularly wears dex’s hoodies (although they all suspiciously end up in dex’s laundry basket and not nursey’s)
but also it’s not quite like the laundry thing matters bc dex is an Acts of Service person and therefore will help nursey do laundry, especially when he’s stressed or not having a great time with his mental health
when they’re away on holidays, they have google duo or discord open for as long as they can and sometimes they’re just chilling in silence like they do at the Haus and sometimes dex picks up his guitar and plays and nursey sits there quietly with his heart in his goddamn throat
falling asleep on call !!! nursey takes a semester abroad & one of them often falls asleep on call. or during holidays, if dex is having a later night than usual (this mans gets his 7-8 hours of sleep per night if he can) [inspo]
dex like ‘is it gay to want to fall asleep next to your bro and when you can’t do that, the next best thing is falling asleep on call’ and chowder is like ‘bro i love you and i am going to fine you for asking me this shit and also yes, yes it is gay’
they are holding hands and nursey lifts their intertwined hands to kiss dex’s wrist absentmindedly and dex almost combusts on the spot
they are holding hands and nursey intentionally lifts their hands to kiss dex’s wrist, looking him in the eye, and dex once again almost combusts on the spot
dex is not a fan of pda but regularly enjoys and gives out forehead kisses; likes doing the ‘arm behind the seat’ thing as he backs up the car and the ‘hand on the thigh’ thing bc he’s from a small town and that’s peak high school romance ok
nursey likes to put his feet up on the dash bc he’s a heathen and they always bicker about it
bringing extra snacks / extra gatorade for each other on road trips / away games
they watched heartstopper together and they both cried. this was expected for nursey. this was unexpected for dex
in his rare free time dex will sometimes pick up a book that nursey has lying around and read a few pages. so far he has managed to read 3/4 of hamlet, all of the ‘aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe’, 45 pages of ‘the raven boys’, almost all of a little book of neruda poems and 2 pages of dense as fuck foucault analysis
dex really loves reading the annotations nursey leaves on the pages
nursey is a ‘dog eared’ book person, a ‘writes in the margins’ person, a ‘writes on scrap paper / sticky notes if he’s rereading and reanalysing something dense’ person. sometimes there are lipstick stains and dex always blushes a bit, smudging his fingers over them. sometimes there is water damage or coffee stains and dex rolls his eyes and smiles fondly
nursey putting on makeup and dex falling down the stairs looking at him. its the eyeliner, its the lipstick, its nursey’s whole fucking face that is so goddamn attractive and dex is indeed gay and absolutely fucked
nursey with a new tattoo and dex falling down the stairs seeing it [inspo] nursey never lets him live it down, ever !
dex gets a tattoo and does not let nursey come along but they do eat some really good pie after and nursey helps him take care of it while it heals
dex with a flower crown and nursey goes over to lardo and says ‘i cannot do this i am simply too gay’ [inspo]
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yifftwiceplz · 4 months
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do one every ten lines :)
🤝 for a headcanon about a connection with one of the receiver's mutual
big fan of dave (yifftwiceplz) and dave (dj-shitslot) basically looking in a mirror at each other at all times, younger self in awe of "older" self (its just that dj is a guardian / has more responsibility) and older self looking back at younger self fondly. thats the good shit. they dont make shit like that anymore but we do like you pass your 13 year old self on the street and your gut reaction is to light up and say oh my god i love you and your 13 year old self is like holy shit, the parts of myself i always wanted to shine through are right there plain as day, we made it
🌇 for a headcanon about morning- or evening rituals
dave wakes up in the afternoon and mostly just lounges around for a few hours. due to his audhd and dysfunction he cant do Anything in any day unless 1. it was preplanned a week in advance 2. he has his obligatory four hour Do Fuck All time. where mainly he smokes weed and listens to music loud enough you can hear it across the house (even though he's wearing headphones). and then once he feels like a person he'll have breakfast, shower, brush his teeth etc and focus on work
😡 for a headcanon about something that makes them angry
it's so hard to make dave angry. maybe it was easier in sburb but he's genuinely a very happy guy. i specifically decided to RP him after i saw that smile on daves face on the lilypad i thought. my guy can heal now. so mostly any time he gets mad it's probably just that he's overstimulated. which is nebulous and random and hard to predict and he tries to grit his teeth and not show it until he snaps, which isn't ideal but he hates looking sensitive or asking someone to back off him in terms of actual real true anger - i dont think he feels it. maybe for a brief moment if someones attacking his friends - only a moment because immediately following that he's got his body and sword between them
🚗 for a transportation-themed headcanon
this bitch cant drive. bro never drove; they lived at the top floor apartment in a walkable neighbourhood what good would a car do yknow? bro had the hoverboard for any long distance trips actually it would be so moe of him to start skating again maybe i should do that. but anyway mostly he walks everywhere he goes. he FREQUENTLY forgets he can fly because thats like... a super power to him. to be used during a fight. but a long fly doesnt work as well as a long walk to clear your head if you have attention issues and mildly dissociate. hed end up in tennessee
hc + 🚬 for a headcanon about a bad habit
oh boy definitely the drinking is his worst habit. it's well-managed but sometimes gets out of hand which is HARD to recognize because dave does not typo when he's drunk. he says roxy is either weak or faking it. striders in general are high dexterity builds so it doesn't matter if his eyes work or if he's coherent - them fingers are gonna find the keys. but he's also a fun drunk! he and roxy share that trait where you get a little booze in them and it's a little easier for them to laugh and open up and be confident in themselves so dave is really good at playing off being totally wasted with being totally charming. and it leads to people letting him drink more than he should quite frequently. luckily karkat isn't as fond of drinking as he is and has a keen eye for when dave is too far gone
hc + 🎥 for a film/tv-themed headcanon
dave is very passionate about film/tv even with his limited "real" education on it, dude just has an eye for it. good editing / camerawork tickles him to death like in a reality show where the interviewee is oblivious to something and there's a slow camera zoom in... got him seal-clapping and kicking his legs in glee part of the reason he's always so busy and tired (which is hard to see because he's always online and blogging casually - that's just part of his process and he just responds to a couple things at a time) is he's such a perfectionist with his own videos. he will not hire an editor. no one understands his vision.
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skrangerthings · 2 years
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Ronance Drabble - Drive in //
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AN// Ronance drabble based off my Steddie fic Just a Thought, The Four go to a drive in movie and Steve and Eddie ditch
...
Eddie and Steve left the car, slamming the doors behind them. Robin and Nancy sat in the front seat of Steve's parked car, enjoying the drive in movie. Nancy wore Robin's jacket, which was offered when she said she was feeling cold. Nancy's feet were up in the passenger seat, as Robin herself in the driver's seat had her arm behind the back of Nancy's chair. She felt very cozy with Robin as the lights from the projector splashed lights over their faces.
She smiled and picked a piece of popcorn off the top of the box.
"You think tonight will be the night?" Nancy asked Robin who was holding the popcorn.
"That those two love birds move on from staring at eachother longingly and get to second base? Not a chance," Robin smirked and turned her attention back to the screen.
Nancy giggled. "You know, I really like this movie," she said, amused at Robin's interest in the film. She had stressed this was a one night showing and that all four of them shouldn't miss it, despite Steve's complaining. Nancy was curious though, and relieved to have some fun away from work.
"Yeah it's a good one. I've seen it 3 times. I want to learn Hungarian so I can understand what his aunt is saying in Act iii when they drive off in the car-"
Robin begins to babble on about her observations and interest in the black and white indie film that they were watching, Stranger than Paradise. Nancy didn't mind. Nancy had fun with Robin. She liked being around her. Robin was smart, she was honest. Blunt to a fault at times, but Nancy liked that. Some people needed the truth. 'Definitely Steve,' Nancy mused as she stared at Robin from her peripheral. She snuggled down into Robin's puffy jacket.
Robin, still talking, dropped the arm that was resting on the back of Nancy's seat so it wrapped around Nancy's shoulders. Nancy blushed.
"And anyway it's so weird that Willie is like obsessed with Eva - I mean I get it, that's the whole point, his journey on whether to be fascinated with his Hungarian origins or lean into his American identity-"
Nancy let herself lean into Robin and closes her eyes, saying lazily, "Yeah but maybe Eva also represents the idea of temptation itself. She's the hypothetical excitement Willie has been missing in life."
Robin laughed "Nancy Wheeler," she said fondly, "I didn't think you were paying that much attention."
"It's an interesting movie," Nancy yawned and snuggled her head onto Robin. Robin looked down and a smile tugged at her lips. For once, not having anything to say.
Nancy was one of the only people who she could talk to who didn't think she was annoying. Nancy actually bounced her ideas back to her, made her think even more. And Robin loved that about Nancy.
Robin laid one of her hands on Nancy's head, to Nancy's pleasure.
"I think working at the video store fucked me up Nance," she said, "I mean I used to talk about cool shit, now all I talk about is movies. "
"What's 'cool shit?'" Nancy asked, smiling but not opening her eyes.
"Like did you know the male seahorse has the ability to have thousands of babies at once," she said. "Like imagine that Nance, you're a single father one day, and the next you have a thousand babies to take care of."
Nancy laughed lightly, "Yeah that would suck."
Robin looked down on Nancy's sleepy face. "I should take you home huh?"
"What about the movie.." Nancy yawned, "and this is Steve's car. ."
"I think Harrington will survive the trip," Robin smiled and started the car up.
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officecyborg · 9 months
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My in-depth ranking of all the puzzle levels in Ghost Trick, from least favourite to favourite.
Ugh
Prison Escape: The only level I had to consult a walkthrough for, and the only one I don't consider "tight". Apart from being a real-time stealth section where you can't look around the map easily, there are some really unintuitive leaps of logic. Plus the fact that the guards can easily get caught in a loop of falling like 2-3 stories without worrying really takes me out of the game.
Junkyard sniper: If you know the trick it's easy, but if I had to erase my memory and choose between this and the medicine puzzle, I'd pick medicine hands down. It's very easy to get stuck in a whack-a-mole loop, and most of the level is a redux of the tutorial.
Medicine: This seems to be the most widely reviled puzzle, and for good reason. The first section makes you sit still for four minutes before doing one action, which is either funny or tedious. The second section is a no-take-backs puzzle with some deliberately unintuitive object motions, which would be fine if you didn't have to sit through the leadup dialogue every time you repeat it.
Alright
Prison infiltration: The guards section is actively fucking with you, but you get to look around a big cross-section map and have some "oh!" discoveries, so that's alright. (I love a good cross-section.)
Submarine (escape): Mix of elements I love and hate. I love the way this one turns a map that you leisurely got acquainted with on its head, and it has some interesting leaps of logic. The pipes puzzle doesn't trip me up on Switch, but on DS I found it impossible to tell what's going on, so ultimately it ends up here.
Park: I like this one more than most people, it seems--I don't have any problems with the swapping. But the ultimate solution is a little counterintuitive (and I know I got hung up for waaay too long on "slowing him down" with the tire). I enjoy the timing, though, and it's fun when you get it.
Good
Finding the phone next door: It's a nice breather level after a string of tense scenes, and it's funny. Some very satisfying actions (knocking the rat around, the wastepaper basket).
Murder machine: Yeah, it's a difficulty spike, but you feel so accomplished when you get it. First one where you're at the mercy of a schedule that takes you down to the wire, and everything about it feels... thematic. Rubber ball in the works.
Saving Missile: This was the demo for the DS release, and deservedly so. It teaches you about actions that only happen once, but gently, and the solution is well-telegraphed but also requires a little bit of thinking outside the box.
Submarine (torpedo): I think some of my favourite levels are the ones which require you to think, "where did this problem really begin?" This is a good one on that theme. You have to follow characters' actions, and run to unexpected places, plus that nerve-wracking jump to the container. The torpedo itself is a very divisive puzzle (because it's the only one in 3D? because the old walkthrough was exactly wrong about how to complete it?) but I actually find it quite elegant and clever.
Junkyard (tutorial): In fairness to the satisfaction of building your first Rube Goldberg device and finally getting that wrecking ball.
Preventing the execution: Another level where you have to exploit your prior knowledge of a location to get around on a time limit. I felt sooo clever when I figured out the detail with the can, and what you were ultimately supposed to do. Very tense, as well.
Great
Getting the phone to Amelie: When I played it on DS, I was stuck on this puzzle for... half an hour? More? I only found the solution by hitting a ceiling of frustration. But ultimately I look back fondly on this one; as far as the utter chaos you can cause, this is absolutely top-tier. Fire! Rat violence! Falling chandeliers!
Kidnapper's hideout: Another breather level, but one I find very soothing to complete. Like Sissel, I just love the movements of the streamers and the fire.
Final fate change: A simple solution but with some tricky timing. Nice callbacks to previous levels, and that lovely meteor animation. A very good final level.
Cabanela (Red light, green light): Chapter 15 is so involved I feel like I have to divide it in half. Most people get stuck on the bullet--on the DS version, you couldn't see its shape until you were at the crucial moment, and now I don't think you can see it at all LMAO. But the tension! The sneaking! The roller cart! That game over screen!
Best
Chicken Kitchen: As far as levels where you have to go back and diagnose the real problem, this is the ultimate example (apart from like. the basic plot of the game.). The chain of disaster is fun and surprising, and each section has enjoyable tricks. There's sneaking, there's keeping track of schedules and movements in a big cross-section, there's chaos. One of my favourite moments playing the game was the stomach-dropping tension of seeing that chain break, and realizing what they wanted you to do in that last second: "Omigod, omigod--okay, fuck it! JUMP!" Exciting, memorable, a little funny. Cabanela (Pigeon Man): And here we have Ghost Trick at its very best. The shock of moving downstairs and seeing that, the realization of what you really have to do, that spot of hope in the darkness as the situation changes. Not to mention the amount you get done in the last three seconds. There's sneaking and cross-section search surprises and it's all tense as hell. The trash can lid is the best use of Missile's powers in the game.
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