Saberlight1

the plot of yellowjackets

people will scream "fuck them kids!" gleefully from the rooftops, but when I, Ben Scott, light a cabin filled with children on fire, all of a sudden-

Steve and Eddie in the new season 4 trailer

hii! i'm obsessed with your writing and how you write billy 🫶🏻 i wondered if you could do a part 2 of the singer!reader x billy one. maybe they meet again and he asks her out or the next time they see each other, reader is singing a song about him 🎀 i'm sure whatever you decide to write will be stunning

she so totally would sing a song about him bro

it becomes a thing after that second time he comes to see you sing.

no matter how tired, beat up, beat down, sunburned or moody billy is, he’s at that table every single friday night. after the 4th or 5th week in a row, he finally plucks up the courage to ask you out. you even use the word finally, which makes him blush but he laughs all the same.

you become inseparable in your moments that neither of you are busy. as soon as billy is finished with his work for the day, he’s high-tailing it to your little house out in the hills. some days he strolls around town with you, some evenings you two lay out in the grass behind your home, gazing at the stars and grazing hands. much to your surprise and delight, it’s billy who kisses you first.

you two are sitting on a blanket, his favorite place in the world woth you at his side and the sun shining. birds tweet happily in the trees, you scribbling in your leather-bound notebook while he braids together pieces of the tall grass and watches you. he loves to listen to you hum different melodies, testing them against the words you put on the pages. he finds a little flower, probably a weed but its still pretty all the same, and weaves it into the little knot of grass he’s been tying together.

“hey, darlin’,” he murmurs, smiling. you glance up with a chirpy little hm?, grinning and blushing when he tucks the little woven plants into your hair carefully. it looks like a little rosette, with the flower at the center.

“how’s it look?” you ask, matching his grin.

“pretty as a picture,” he breathes, letting his hand cup your cheek gently. when you lean into his palm, his heart does this funny little thing in his chest that it’s only ever done for you.

you rest your own hand over his on your cheek, and the next thing you know, he’s dipping his head to brush his lips against yours. they’re warm and soft on your mouth, sweet from the peach he’d eaten earlier. when you sigh into him and press closer, he thinks he might just be the happiest man that’s ever lived.

and so it goes, billy gives you all his attention and you give him all your affection and vice versa, in this perfect little back and forth. what he doesn’t expect, though, is for you to give him your songs.

he’s parked at his usual spot, humming along to all the songs he knows by heart now. he sips his whiskey and watches you, a permanent little quirk to his lips that betrays exactly how much he adores you to anyone who spares him a passing glance.

“alright y’all, i got one more up my sleeve before i take my bows for the night,” you tell the crowd, grinning. “this one’s new, so i hope you like it! but really, there’s only one person here who’s opinion on it matters to me.” You laugh and wink at him, and he smiles but lifts his brow curiously at you.

and then you’re picking up your guitar, voice soft as a cloud as you sing about blue, blue, blue, and cowboys with rough hands but gentle hearts. funny little hats and maroon sweaters that are warmer than any blanket you’ve ever felt. billy swallows hard and sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, though still he smiles. you don’t take your eyes off him the entire song, and as soon as its done, you slip your guitar off your body.

you don’t even bow or thank the audience this time, you’re walking straight to billy. he stands up and you smile, standing on your tiptoes and yanking him by the collar down to your lips to kiss him until he feels dizzy with it. he wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush against his body, bending you backwards with how fiercely he returns your kiss.

“i love you,” he pants softly against your mouth, not caring about who sees. you break away with a giggle, the sweetest thing billy has ever heard.

“i love you too, cowboy.”

he grins and takes his hat off, placing it on your head. then, he cups your cheeks and kisses your forehead, both of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips one more time. billy bonney is the happiest man who’s ever lived, no doubt about it.

dominic fike hive

nurturing — billy the kid

pairing: billy bonney x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of violence, death, trauma, sickness, established relationship, reader is also a gunslinger, Y/N usage, standard billy the kid warnings.

authors note: yes i love this man so bad. him in billy the kid deadass altered my brain chemistry lmao. this fic is based off of this request— please, continue to send me your ideas and whatnot, i love reading them! i hope you enjoy <3

masterlist

When you woke up, that unusual ringing in your ears, that pounding in your head, and the scratchiness of your throat—you knew you had fallen ill. One of the boys in the gang, or hell, maybe even someone you had came across had given you something—you didn’t really want to know.

You groaned, rubbing your eyes as you pulled the covers closer to you, attempting to sleep away the sickness. You didn’t want to get up to go to the doctors nor did you have enough money to even pay one. So you did what you do best—ignoring the problem completely.

You fell back asleep easily, sleeping the day and night away completely. When your eyes first fluttered open due to the sunlight intruding on your slumber, you thought you were free from the confines of your illness, but you were mistaken.

The second you sat up, all symptoms that were now arguably worse returned within an instant, causing you to get dizzy. You crashed back down instantly, a whine leaving your lips. Your muscles ached from staying in bed all day, and you wanted a damn drink—a real one. And you wanted to see your cowboy.. so bad. But with the pounding in your head feeling just as powerful as your heartbeat, the thought of even moving made you want to throw up.

And it did—you wanted to cry as you were forced to rush to the trash can in the corner. After 5 minutes of throwing up, your stomach finally relented. You carried yourself back over to your bed, the exhaustion taking over once again.

Hours later, a soft yet powerful knock on your door woke you up with a jump. Your eyebrows knitted as you heard the knocks only get louder. Now alert and awake, you slowly reached for your gun-belt that was neatly rested on your bedside table, grabbing your loaded pistol and cocking it. You used the pistol to slightly lift up the curtain to your window—it was raining, and it was night.

No one good could be paying you a visit at this hour.

You crept over to the door, the knocks only increasing in volume. You slowly turned the handle, your gun tightly in your grip—finger ghosting over the trigger. Adrenaline and anxiety coursed through your veins, you didn’t even feel sick anymore.

The door creaked open, and you pointed the pistol at whoever was out there before you revealed your form.

“Jesus, lady.” Billy’s soft laugh hit your ears, making you lower the gun instantly, placing it on the table by the door. “Stayin’ ready, huh?”

A heavy sigh of relief left your lips as you silently walked into his arms, your head resting on his shoulder as your headache began to form again. His arms wrapped around you quickly, the tip of his hat hitting your head when he leaned down to leave a kiss on your hair.

“You alright, honey?” He whispered, still holding you. “Been wonderin’ where you were. Supposed to meet me at the stables earlier.”

You sighed, completely forgetting your plans with the man. “I’m sorry, Billy,” Your hoarse voice whispered. “I’m sick, I been asleep all day.”

His eyebrows knitted together in concern immediately, as he pushed you off his shoulder to cradle your face in his hands gently. “How bad is it?”

“Just feel like shit,” You chuckled, sending a smile to his face. “I’m okay, Billy.”

His eyes clouded with worry. “C’mon, let’s get you in— away from this storm before it gets you sicker.” He ushered you in. “You seen a doctor yet?” He asked.

“Nah, I didn’t think it would get worse, plus it’s not like I got the money to pay one. Tried to sleep it off, I felt too bad yesterday to get out of bed at all.” You responded as you went to lay down. He tucked your gun back into its holster, before he went to refill your water.

He came back a moment later, a glass of water and a wet rag in hand.

“Thank you,” You whispered as you took a sip, as he placed the wet rag on the back of your neck.

He hummed back to you, laying down next you once you put the water aside, bringing you into his arms.

“You gotta tell me when you’re sick, darlin’.” He whispered to you in the moon lit room. “Can’t lose you to somethin’ like that. Happened to me too many times.”

“I’m sorry, Billy.. I— I don’t mean to worry you.” You said, looking up at him.

“You don’t gotta apologize, baby, just tell me next time so I can come take care of you, y’know?” He smiled, a lovey smile on his lips as he bent down to leave a kiss on your nose. “What can of man would I be if I left my woman to lay sick alone?” He pinched your side slightly, a giggle escaping your lips.

“I reckon you’d be a regular ole’ cowboy.” You joked.

“Well, luckily for you, I happen to be an outlaw.” He chuckled as he leaned down to kiss you—but your finger pressed into his lips stopped him. He looked at you, offended.

“I don’t want to get you sick,” You told him, your smile now more teasing.

“I don’t give a damn about some cold, baby.” He pushed your hand out the way, pressing his lips against yours in an instant, the man kissing you passionately—as if you possessed the air he so very needed. He pulled back, his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. “Haven’t seen you in days, missed the feelin’ of your lips.” He muttered against your lips before connecting them again, his words sending shivers down your spine, your arms wrapping around his neck.

You felt comfort in the fact that you’d always have your outlaw to be there to make you feel better, no matter what.

this season being deemed as the most violent by the writers and the cast and this season also being the one where i can finally see the adult yellowjackets in their teen counterparts is so heartbreaking and such incredible acting and story telling

like the Lottie who intiated the hunt at the end of season 2? i couldn't recognize her she was in a coma when they hunted Nat and butchered Javi she was cutting her own finger to protect the others she was taking the punches to keep the peace she was meditating her psychosis away she was such a pacifist she didn't want any violence how could she grow to believe killing someone is the solution? Season 3 Lottie who has had all the atrocities of season 2 pushed on her blamed on her who's growing more and more unstable with trauma after trauma on an already ill mind who sees intruders who might hurt her loved ones and immediately buries an axe in their heads and giggles at a job well done? yeah that's adult Lottie, that smile at the face of violence, that girly little giggle, that awe at the blood, that joy while everyone stands there horrified, that was adult Lottie in the season 2 finale, that's teen Lottie now in season 3

i could see Nat's fashion choices and music taste, "superficial" things, but after she let a child die for her, ate him, made herself lead people when she doesn't know shit herself and finally, finally killed Ben, a man she loved and respected and associated with human kindness and decency, things she will never feel towards herself again, the way her voice deepened as if she went permanently hoarse from crying, that nonchalent gangly almost limp walk, as if she's completely dissociated from her body, the walls of agressivity and indifference she put up and never lets down again, that's Adult Nat

Shauna going through all stages of grief over and over and over and over again until she settles on anger because it's the only stage that makes her feel alive, who laughs when she sees a man's brains leaking on the dirt, yeah i finally see Adult Shauna

lovefool — billy the kid

pairing: billy bonney x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of violence, fluff, Y/N usage, reader is a cowgirl and gunslinger, hints towards murder, one bed trope, standard billy the kid warnings.

authors note: hii!!! i’m so happy to be writing about billy, thank you anon for sending in this request that this is based off of. i loved the show and slowly am getting more obsessed with tom blyth everyday i swearrr. i hope you enjoy!

masterlist

You and the boys damn near fell through the doors of some random boarding house you came across— the lot of you attempting to run away from a rival gang that caught you stealing cattle.

Jesse threw 10 dollars down on the counter, more than enough to get rooms for you all. You had been running around all day— but the smell of gunpowder and crimson blood still clogged your nose hairs and adrenaline still pumped through your veins. You simply wanted a bath and to go the hell to bed.

But, who would you be to turn down Jesse’s smiling face, holding out a shot of whiskey for you.

You sighed, your hat tipping down with your head as you shook it, your hands rested neatly on your gun-belt, cowboy boot tapping softly on the floor as you pretended to weigh your options.

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N.” He held it out for you. “Drink with us!”

You chuckled. “Why not,” You went to sit down at the bar next to them.

“Hell yeah!” Jesse and the rest of the boys who were scattered around the bar cheered— you normally weren’t one for their after hour shenanigans.

“Only for a little bit, though. I’m tired as hell.” You said, downing the whiskey shot.

“Sure,” Jesse waved you off with a knowing look, ordering a couple more rounds for you all. You laughed, going along with his antics as always. You had known Jesse since you were young— he was the one who had vouched for you in this group, who had helped you gain the respect that you had today.

You let out a hiss at the burning feeling of that whiskey going down your throat, slamming the shot glass back onto the table.

“I’ll have what they’re havin’.” You heard that familiar husky voice from next to you. Billy Bonney stood with a small smirk toying on his lips as he sat down on the stool next to you. He nodded at the bartender when he slid him said shot, the outlaw throwing it back without hesitation.

“Where you been, cowboy?” You asked, slightly tipsy.

“Been at the Saloon playin’ Poker.” He responded.

“You win?”

His smirk only grew. “Sure did. It was a big pot too,”

“Good for you, Billy.” You smiled, turning back to grab you and him another shot. “To your winnings.” You cheered, the pair of you clinking your glasses together before downing them.

“Aye, y’all get that cattle?” He asked, leaning closer to you with a quieter voice. “Y’all stink of gunpowder.”

“Nah,” You shook your head. “Their boys came out— the shots scared the cattle away, and we ain’t have enough ammo to fight ‘em off so we had to cut and run. Shot a couple of them, though.”

He hummed. “We’ll get ‘em next time, Y/N, don’t worry.”

“I hope so. Jesse here is runnin’ up his tab right now and we barely got enough cash to buy food.” You shook your head with a bitter smile. “Aye, at least we got liquor.”

“We’ll figure it out— we always do.” Billy reminded with a comforting smile.

“Yeah.” You sighed, trying to push the worries away. You downed one last shot before pushing yourself off the bar stool. “Alright, boys, that bath is callin’ my name. See y’all tomorrow.” You turned, heading to the stairs as you heard a string of good nights.

After washing up, you put on a comfortable nightgown, heading to the room that matched the key Jesse had given you.

You carelessly threw the door open, the towel in your hands still wringing out your wet hair. But said towel almost fell from your grip once you saw a shirtless Billy standing in the middle of your room.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” You apologized as soon as his confused gaze landed on yours, backing out of the room. “Thought this was my room,”

He sighed, throwing on the shirt he was changing into before you walked in. “You’re good. Jesse told me downstairs that he ain’t have enough cash to get me a room— Hope you don’t mind, but I’d rather bunk with you than the one of the boys.”

“Oh, yeah, no, you can sleep in here. I don’t mind,” You nodded, walking in and shutting the door, placing your gun-belt down on the nightstand. Your eyes drifted to the small twin bed before you, your gaze going back up to Billy’s nervously.

“I can sleep on the floor, it’s alright.” He immediately tried to come up with a solution, already knowing what you were thinking of.

“Billy, I’m sure your back hurts just as bad as mine— if not more.” You waved him off. “I don’t want you to wake up even more sore tomorrow. It’s fine.. I ain’t scared of sleepin’ in the same bed as you. Unless you’re scared of sharin’ with me,” You lightly teased, laying down onto the bed, opening the covers for him.

A soft smile crept onto his lips. “Now, why would I be afraid of such a pretty lil’ thing like you?” He poked back, his words sending a blush to your cheeks as he got into bed, taking you up on your offer. The bed was quite small, and to ensure Billy wouldn’t fall off you were kinda hanging off the side.

A giggle left your lips. “There’s no way I’m not gon’ roll off this bed in my sleep and face plant onto the floor.”

He laid on his back, one arm thrown behind his head so he could look down at you. His gaze lingered onto yours for a moment— and you could see the gears turning in his brain. “Here,” He flipped onto his side, his hands slowly tugging you into him so your back was to his chest, his arm loosely hung around your waist. “I won’t let you fall,” He whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Thank you,” You leaned up to blow out the candle lit next to you before snuggling back into his arms, smiling. “G’night, Billy.”

His arms tightened around you, and you could hear a faint chuckle from behind you, the man placing a soft kiss to your head. “G’night, darlin’.”

We don't have enough Lucy Gray fics out there!! 😔 can I request something like they were both with coriolanus but ran together to be safe and now live a peaceful life in the woods?? If you can.

you are right !! lucy gray needs more fics, and i adore this idea!! thank you for your request, i will be writing this soon!! <33

Closer

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 4.4k

summary: You reveal a secret about your sexual preferences to Arthur when liquor has loosened your lips. Later and sober, he brings it up again, and you find yourself in ecstasy with the idea of being edged.

a/n: I wrote this in one day. idk where it came from, sorry not sorry. High honor Arthur loves consent and so do i, here we go!

warnings: nsfw, 18+, smut, minors dni (edging, receiving oral, vaginal sex, you get the idea)

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow

Arthur has opted not to drink tonight. Just a week ago he had taken Lenny to the saloon for a quiet night out, and woken up a day later in jail. He doesn't feel like drinking for a long while. You on the other hand, have had your fill and then some. Sean had been safely returned home earlier in the day, and Hosea had come back with a wagon full of liquor to celebrate. At this point, Arthur has lost count of the number of times you and John have passed the whiskey crate around the fire. Arthur chuckles as you sing along to Javier's song, glancing at him every once in a while. You've been staring at Arthur in between the lyrics, and there's a blaze in your eyes, a heat in your gaze that tells him exactly what you're thinking about. 

Javier's song crescendos to an end, and everyone laughs, hooping and hollering, except for you. You instead are staring at Arthur, biting your lip lightly before leaning down to the whiskey crate, pulling a bottle from it and holding it in your hands as if it's.. something else. You're driving him mad, especially as you squeeze your thighs together, unbuttoning the first few buttons of your shirt, just to get rid of the heat, of course. 

Arthur tries to keep his eyes off you, because your relationship is pretty new and you've only slept together a handful of times. Though they ended up on his list of best nights, he feels it would be a disservice to eye you like this, especially with your drunken state. 

He can't help it though, and some sweat runs down his temple as he rearranges himself to lessen the strain of his cock pressing up against his jeans. Your cleavage is kept hidden from him by your shirt, but the open buttons reveal the beginning of the swell of your breasts, and he wants nothing more than to kiss the sweet flesh there. 

The times you've laid with him you were a bit shy, nervously covering certain areas of your body with your hands. Usually he has to reassure you, coax you from your shell a bit to remove you from your self consciousness. That feeling is gone now. The alcohol has made you brave, bold as you trail your fingers from your knee to your thigh. It's just subtle enough to drive him mad, but anyone else who didn't know your intentions would think nothing of it. Arthur squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, thinking of anything to get his erection to go down. He opens his eyes when he feels your hand on his, and you start pulling him away from the fire. 

"Come on, cowboy." You tease, pulling him towards his covered wagon. Your voice is slurred with drunkenness, and your steps are stumbling. It's then that Arthur realizes just how drunk you are. 

"You tired?" Arthur asks as you pull him into his tent. He's hoping you'll say yes, because he can't give you this tonight, not until you're sober. It would be a disservice to you, not to mention that he's sober, and it would feel wrong. 

"Nope." You whisper, turning towards him with sparkling, half-lidded eyes. Then you lean up and intertwine your fingers into his hair, kissing him. It's drunk and sloppy, but Arthur isn't complaining. Your lips taste like whiskey as you devour him, saving no room for delicacy or the coy demeanor you usually have. Your lips slot against his breathily and with hunger as you press yourself up against him. You can feel his hardness pressing into your hip, twitching as you release his hair with one hand to undo the buttons of your blouse. 

You shove him back lightly, and he lies down on the bed, looking up to you. He concludes that something has taken over you, it must have with the way your actions have flipped from coy to bold. He loves you so much, he wants you, but he can't do this, not while you're drunk. Then you're sitting on top of him. Your blouse is gone, and your jeans have been unzipped the whole way down, leaving nothing to desire because you haven't worn any underclothes. This in itself causes Arthur to curse, and his skin blazes with a burn that only you can create and quell. You're looking down to him, panting. Your pupils are blown, and messy waves fall around your face. You look like some goddess, something divine that he doesn't deserve, surely. His cock aches in his jeans and if something doesn't happen soon, he's going to embarrass himself greatly. 

"Sweetheart-" Arthur is cut off by his own groan as you smile, grinding yourself against his hips. His head tosses back as he thrusts his hips up against you, and you've never been more proud than now, watching him under you. You lean down to kiss his lips again, but you stop, just inches away from his face. He hesitates, breathing hotly as you stare at his lips, then up to his eyes.

"T-take me, Arthur." You whisper, kissing his lips while intertwining your tongues before pulling away again. A clarity pokes through the fog of alcohol as you look into his eyes again. 

"I want you to draw it out. I want you all night, over and over, and over again." You whimper, leaning down to kiss his neck. Arthur can't tell if he's ascended to the heavens or if this is real. He's not sure where his sweet, shy girl has gone, or how she's been replaced by this wanton dominatrix, but he isn't complaining. You kiss up to his earlobe, grinding yourself against him again, moaning in his ear at the slight friction. Then, lips pressed against his ear, you whisper. 

"You know that moment? That moment when you're so close that even the smallest touch will send you over the edge?" 

Arthur nods lightly, losing his composure while his hands grip your hips tightly. 

"That's the best part." 

Arthur's eyes slip closed and he groans. You're so foul-mouthed while drunk, and it's delirious, something he never knew could be so damn attractive. 

"Take me there. Take me there, Arthur and torture me." You beg, just a breath in his ear. 

"Christ alive, sweetheart." Arthur groans, never having seen you so… unhinged. Drunkenness has loosened your lips, and your limbs, and it's then that he remembers his promise to himself. 

You're drunk, and he's not. Having you like this right now would be taking advantage of you. He wants to give you everything you could ever ask for and then some, but only when you're sober. His length throbs against his jeans, and as much as he wants to have you right now, he can't. He could never forgive himself if you woke up upset with him. With a sigh, and a bittersweet smile, Arthur looks up to your lust driven eyes. 

"I can't." Arthur states apologetically, peeling your warm, beautiful body from his. You pull back from him with a shocked expression, and your eyebrows string together forming a tight little crease that he wishes to wipe away from your worried face. His features soften sadly at your expression, and his thumb rubs against your cheek.

"What?" You ask, confused, and a little embarrassed. You hadn't expected him to reject you. Although you'd never ask him to partake if he doesn't want to, you're still a little hurt that he's pushing you away. Suddenly some of the anxiety seeps through into your drunken state, and you wonder if it's your body, or your alcohol ridden lips that have caused him to push you away. You blush, embarrassed, but Arthur only takes your hand in his own, encasing it.

"I'm sorry darlin, I can't. You can't hardly stand up right now, let alone make decisions like this one. N' we're still new to this. I don't want you wakin' up tomorrow, sober, and regrettin this." He whispers, brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. Despite all that he's just said, your foggy brain fixates on three little insignificant words. 

"Y-you dont… You don't want me?" You sigh, hurt and tired and seeing double. Arthur can only chuckle on account of how wrong you are. But whatever altered state of mind you're in that could convince you that he somehow doesn't want you is exactly why he can't go through with this. 

"Oh I want you, alright. But you ain't in the state of mind to be acceptin' that invitation right now." Arthur explains, and you feel a weight slip off your shoulders. 

"Oh." You nod, disappointed, and aching for his touch. But nonetheless, you trust his judgment, even if you don't understand it right now. Sighing, you lay down flat on him, chest to chest. He wraps his arms around you, pressing kisses up to your forehead. It's then that you realize how tired you are, and the way the room seems to spin a little. A question raises itself in your lips, and you prop your chin on his chest to look down at him. 

"But you do want me right?" You ask, just checking. You're not exactly sure what you've just talked about, or what happened. And you're already falling asleep as Arthur answers.

"Yes, darlin." Arthur chuckles, sliding you off of him so that he can lay with you properly. You fall in line with him, back pressed against his chest as he spoons you. 

"Hey, Arthur?" You mumble, eyes closed as you breathe slower and slower, relaxing into his arms. 

"Sweetheart, go to sleep."  Arthur mumbles, one arm snaking around your waist whilst the other lies under your head. 

"Okay but just one thing." You implore, turning around in his arms so that you can nuzzle into his toasty warm chest. Arthur huffs, amused, and so in love that it aches in his bones.

"Go on." 

"Can we try again?" You ask, pressing a chaste kiss to his neck. 

"Yes, we can try again if you want, but first you gotta go to sleep." Arthur chuckles, rubbing his hand up and down your back. You're satisfied enough with that, and you nuzzle into him again with a drunken smile on your lips. 

— — — — 

Two nights later, your hangover is gone. You'd spent the previous day aching, throwing up and sleeping for the most part. Arthur had stayed with you all day, taking care of you. You were grateful, but a little frustrated that he wouldn't let you do anything. Tonight is better, and you lie in bed, unable to sleep. Arthur has been snoring behind you for some time now, but you can't stop thinking about the party. Mostly because you don't remember it. You'd woken up in Arthur's bed, shirtless with your pants completely unzipped, hungover. But you have no recollection, besides what Arthur told you. He had assured you that nothing happened, not that you would have minded. You're just wondering if you made a fool out of yourself, or embarrassed yourself in some way. You sigh, sitting up in bed.

 You can't help but look down at Arthur and his unworried, sleeping expression. With a warm, loving smile, you lean down and press a little kiss to his cheek. Arthur startles, eyes blinking open quickly as he looks up at you. He's shocked for a moment, then worried as he quickly leans up on his elbows.

"Darlin? What's wrong? Why're you up?" He asks, sitting up fully. You feel awful, never meaning to have woken him up. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." You mumble as he pulls you towards his chest, enveloping you into his arms. 

"S'okay, what's goin' on?" 

Arthur's arms are so warm, so big, you could be swallowed up by them entirely and remain content. 

"I just can't believe how much I drank the other night." You sigh, shaking your head in horror. Arthur nods, chuckling lightly as you pull away from him. He takes both of your hands in his own and holds them in his lap. 

"Yeah me neither." Arthur swallows thickly, looking up to you with a question. "You uh- you remember anything you said to me that night?" Arthur asks, and your skin goes pale. 

"No. Oh no, what did I say?" You ask, afraid you'd hurt his feelings or said something you shouldn't have. You wince, dipping your head as you await his response. Arthur pulls your chin up with his finger, coaxing you to meet his eyes as you shiver. 

"Practically jumped me, darlin. Put on quite a show, then you asked me to 'take you, all night long' and the kicker, you asked me to edge you. In fact, you said it was the best part. Asked me to 'take you there n' torture you', if I remember correctly." Arthur says nonchalantly, and you recoil. You're horrified by what you've said, and though it's all true, you can't believe you spoke it so plainly, so early into your relationship. 

"Oh, that's embarrassing, Arthur I'm so sorry." You wince, head falling into your hands. 

Instead of judging you, or mocking you, Arthur lightly pulls you towards him. His lips find the crook of your neck, and he starts kissing there, slow and patient and hot. Your breathing quickens, and you crane your neck to give him better access. Your heart races, you still can't believe he's here, he's yours. He lightly pulls some of your skin between his teeth, and it hurts in the best way as you yelp.  He runs his tongue over the spot to soothe it.

Then, one of his hands snakes up your shirt, and he teases your breasts as you moan. His lips move right against your ear as he whispers. 

"Is it..? The best part?" Arthur asks right against your ear. You blush, not wanting to respond from the embarrassment. He pulls away, cocking his head at your silence.

"Darlin, don't get shy on me now." Arthur chuckles, watching with an intensity as you bite your lip, smirking at him. 

"Yes, it’s the best part. For me anyway, I know it's different for everyone.” You whisper, and then squeak as Arthur quickly pushes you down against the bed, towering over you. Arthurs fingers trail up your hips, you're not wearing anything under your chemise and he growls. He pulls the chemise over your arms and tosses it down on the floor, smirking at the little gasps that leave you. Towering above you, Arthur takes a moment to drink you in. He’s seen you like this before, but only on a few occasions.

“Y’know,” Arthur says, stopping to press a kiss to your breast, “I did make you a promise.” Arthur whispers on your skin. Your hands tangle into his hair as you arch your back, searching for more of his lips against you. 

“And what’s that promise?” You exhale, wrapping your legs around him. Arthur moves downwards, and your breath hitches in your throat.  

“Promised you we’d try it.” He says, and your pupils dilate. Your legs loosen some, faltering around him as you sit up on your elbows. Arthur stands up from the bed, smirking down at you while pulling his clothes off quickly. 

“Ain’t gonna be too comfortable with these on.” He explains gruffly, before crawling back on the bed and leaning over you. A piece of his hair falls down, dangling over your face that you brush behind his ear to better see him. 

“Just remember, you asked for this. Beg all you want darlin, I’m takin’ my time.” He growls, and you shudder underneath him. He rests between your knees, spreading them while latching on to your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. 

Arthur wasn’t exaggerating. He starts painfully slow, kissing your hip and thumbing your thigh. He presses love bites on the inside of your thighs, and you whimper, bucking your hips upwards to try and get him where you need him. 

“Patience.” Arthur growls, the soft flesh of your thigh in between his lips. After a few moments more, you’re squirming, sweating and whining for his touch between your legs. One of his hands reaches up to flick at your nipple slowly, and your back arches. 

“Arthur, please, please touch me already.” You whine, hips fidgeting as he runs his finger featherlight over your lower lips. He has to stop and gather his control from the way you whine his name, fidgeting and arching underneath him. But after a deep breath he gives you what you want.

Arthur leans in to you, and you feel his nose brush against your heat as he just lightly brushes his tongue over your already sensitive clit. You gasp, clenching your muscles as he releases. 

“Oh, Arthur come on, please.” You whimper, and he smirks with satisfaction. His fingers run down your opening, and he stops, groaning when he feels how wet you are. His cock is pressing hard into his mattress, but he ignores it, focusing on you. A finger teases your entrance, and then ever so slowly sinks in to you. He doesn’t move it, watching as you buck your hips to get something. 

“Like I said, you asked for this.” Arthur says, curling his finger just a tiny bit before slipping it out. 

“Fu- I know!” You sort of yell, pulling an amused chuckle out of Arthur. You’re somewhere in between mad and pleased with yourself for suggesting this, but Arthur has no plans on rushing that decision. 

“Yeah, you like this. Don't Cha' sweetheart?” Arthur observes, watching as your hands grip at the sheets when he slips two fingers back in, curling them slowly. 

“God- please go faster Arthur.” 

“Nuh uh, not gonna happen, darlin.” Arthur states before lightly flicking your clit with his tongue, stopping as soon as you start to moan. You cry out, frustrated, gripping his hair, and the sheets and anything as your abdomen clenches and you try to find friction against something. And then in a heartbeat, his lips are on your clit, suctioning and flicking and it’s heavenly. Your back lifts from the mattress as you moan, covering your mouth to keep the Van der Linde’s from hearing you. 

“Oh, like that, Oh my god Arthur-” You moan, bucking your hips against his face as he curls his fingers in you, hitting all of your sweet spots at the same time. No ones ever touched you like this, and he’s turned you into a whimpering, moaning mess. This is just as addicting for him as it is for you, and when he feels your hips start to buck and the clenching of your walls around his fingers, he knows you’re close. It's risky to keep pushing you, but he goes just a few seconds longer, drawing out your ecstasy. You’re stepping over the edge of a cliff, just ready to fall, and then Arthur pulls you back, slipping his fingers out of you and releasing your clit.

“No no no no no, Arthur, no please.” You whimper and cry, feeling so empty from the lack of him. 

“Darlin, I’m sorry. You asked for this.” Arthur mumbles, feeling bad for torturing you like this, but he knows the release will be worth it. He doesn't leave you feeling empty for long, and soon his thumb is rubbing tight, slow circles over your clit. With his mouth unoccupied, he keeps his thumb on your clit, leaning over you. 

“That feel good, darlin?” Arthur asks, watching the way your face slips into pure ecstasy when his fingers stop and continue to touch you. He chuckles lightly, deep in his chest, “Yeah it does, look atcha.” 

Your nails dig into his forearm, feeling the flexing of his muscles as he works at your clit, touching you just right. He leans down to your chest, taking a nipple into his mouth and nipping it, flicking his tongue over the hard peak. You gasp, breaths loud and quick as you feel yourself closing in on an orgasm. You’re in that spot, when it's just about to hit and the heavenly way your body shudders and moans signals so to Arthur. 

“Right here, this what you like darlin? Feelin’ like this?” Arthur asks, watching as you nod, face drawn up as you gasp. Arthur presses a chaste kiss to your chest, stilling the rhythm of his fingers. You cry out in frustration. You were so close, and in the absence of his fingers a few tears drip down your face as you cry out.

“I can’t- I can’t take much more Arthur, please, please!” You whimper, shuddering underneath him, so fragile that a simple brush of skin could push you over the edge that he just will not grant you. Your core aches for release, your mind clouded with the fog of so much pressure that it blurs your vision. He’s going to make you pass out.

He parts your legs again, but this time settles his hips between them. Gasping and panting, you dig your heels into him, needing him in you so desperately that you can scream. Slowly, he pushes himself in just past the tip, groaning at how drenched you are. He’s had plenty of time to wind you up, and a mess of slick is on your thighs, him and the bed, it's a mess.

“Shit sweetheart.” Arthur huffs, leaning down on his elbows to kiss your forehead. Your arms wrap around to his back, and you pull him down to you, leaving red marks on his shoulders. 

“Move, Arthur, I need you to move.” 

And oh, he does. 

Arthur groans, sliding in fully. He takes a breath before slowly pulling the rest of the way out. He sets a steady pace, rolling his hips into you so slow and hard that every thrust hits your cervix and you gasp from the pleasure of it all. You grip onto him, digging your nails into his back as you lift your hips to meet his. You’re so close, teetering, but you try to keep your reactions muted so he doesn’t stop. Arthur’s eyes are on you, watching as your breasts bounce with every thrust, and the way your face is drawn up as you bite your lip so hard it starts to bleed. He smirks, knowing exactly what you’re keeping from him. 

“That’s my good girl, takin’ me so good. So beautiful.” Arthur murmur, hands planted on either side of your head. He picks up his pace, just a bit, thrusting into you fast enough that you barely have enough time to recover from him hitting your sweet spot before he's coming back into you again. 

“Oh, Arthur!” You moan, unable to hold it back anymore. 

“That's it sweetheart, let it go, you can have it.” Arthur growls, feeling a tightening in his abdomen.

“Oh, Fuck, Arthur, Oh please don’t stop-” You pant, and Arthur smiles at your foul mouth, something only liquor can pull out of you, and his touch apparently.

His hand reaches down in between your bodies, raking over your clit just enough for it to send you over the edge finally. A strew of gasps, moans and curses fall from your swollen lips as your abdomen clenches, your walls constricting around Arthur with every thrust of his. It's unlike anything you’ve ever experienced, and you actually scream. Your usual waves of pleasure have been replaced by a tsunami, and all you can do is gasp and pull Arthur closer to you. Arthur is barely hanging on at this point, fighting with everything he has to let you finish before he does. But you look so damn beautiful, grabbing him everywhere and yelling his name out in between strangled moans. Your toes curl, and your thighs clench around his waist so tightly that he struggles to keep pace. 

“Easy, that's my girl, you’re alright.” Arthur coos, still pounding into you as you start to come down. You can already feel the ache in your hips as they slow from bucking against Arthur hastily. You whimper, returning from your heightened state just as Arthur groans deeply a few times. His hands clench tightly around the pillows by your head as he slips out of you just in time. Panting for the breath that you’ve been holding, you reach up to run your fingers through his stubble, watching the way his face draws up and he gasps and groans, spilling his seed over your stomach. Exhausted, he rests his forehead against your own. 

“Holy shit, Arthur.” You breathe out, chuckling lightly at how quickly the whole situation played out. There's a residual ache in your thighs, hips and stomach, and a few bruises on your hips from Arthur’s hands. 

“You were right.” Arthur mumbles, arms shaking from holding himself up above you. He kisses your hair before he stands up, grabbing a rag from his bedside table. Slowly, he walks back to the bed, covered in a sheen of sweat. He wipes you up carefully, cleaning up his mess completely. Then he quickly changes the sheets, tossing the old ones in a pile that you’ll clean tomorrow, god forbid they go to one of the other girls. Once everything is settled, Arthur climbs into bed first, leaving room for you. With a small, tired smile, you lay your head on his chest, intertwining your legs together. 

“Reckon I should get you drunk more often if you’re gonna keep havin’ ideas like this one.” Arthur huffs, running his fingers up and down your spine. 

“It seems so.” You mumble, smiling.  Your hand runs through his chest hair, and you’re so glad to just be with him that part of you wishes you never had to sleep. But alas, your tired, sore body wins over quicker than you would have liked, and your sleepy eyes slip shut. Arthur doesn’t last much longer than you, and shortly the two of you are cuddled up together, equally parts comfortable and satisfied.