🪲corvi🐞

You huffed and puffed in the dressing room, but no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t reach the zipper on your back. 

“Leon,” you hissed through the curtain. 

“Mh?” He came up behind you. 

You turned your back to him, brushing your hair out of the way. “Can you zip me up?” 

“Sure.” His fingers grazed your skin ever so slightly when he reached for the zipper and you shuddered, being especially sensitive to his touch at this point in your cycle. Leon chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to the back of your neck, before pulling the zipper up. 

You drew in a sharp breath. The dress was tight. Tighter than you expected. Especially in the chest area. 

“Holy shit,” Leon breathed, staring at your tits in the mirror, all lifted and pressed together by the fabric.

“Oh man,” you whined. “I can’t wear that.”

“You can’t?” Leon rasped, having a hard time tearing his eyes away from your cleavage. 

“No,” you hissed and took a deep breath in, nearly tearing the fabric in the front. Leon whined softly.

“Why can’t you?”

“I can’t even breathe in this.”

“Do you—” he cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly, “Do you want me to check if they have it in a bigger size?” 

You nodded. “That would be great, thank you baby.” 

Leon didn’t move. When you looked at him over your shoulder, he had his hand down his pants, adjusting himself, checking his crotch in the mirror. “I need a minute.” 

You chuckled. “That’s exactly why I can’t wear this in public. Men are pigs.” 

“Well, I’m allowed. I’m your fiancé,” he said, voice dripping with pride about the promotion from mere boyfriend status.

You cupped his cheek and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. “Yes, you are but no one else is.” 

“I agree,” he murmured, capturing your lower lip with his teeth. “But let me just say, you look so hot in this.”

“If you get me the bigger size, we can move on to lingerie shopping, what do you think?” you whispered.

He let out a low breathy moan at the proposition. “Well, now I’m gonna need two minutes.” 

You chuckled, gripping the front of his shirt and pulled him in for one last teasing kiss. “I think you can deal with it, big boy.” 

Leon went to get the bigger size and you stepped out of the dressing room to look at yourself in better lighting. You did look great in this. The fabric hugged your curves in just the right way, really amplifying your … assets. But you weren’t really looking for a skimpy party dress, you were looking for one you could wear to your elderly colleagues birthday party, which was a family friendly event. All of Rhonda’s grandkids would be there. 

“Well, if that isn’t my favourite ex-girlfriend.” A familiar voice sounded behind you and you turned around. Your face lit up. 

“Chris?” You squealed with joy and let him pull you into a bear hug. Your arms barely reached around his shoulders. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Shopping,” he shrugged. 

“No, in town I mean. You moved to the other side of the country.” 

“I uh,” he murmured, “I missed Claire too much.”

You nodded, knowing full well he was lying. You knew him like the back of your hand. Or you used to at least. But Chris was the kind of guy that didn’t change much. Back when Lottie had been small, he had been like a rock in your life, steadfast, constant. For you to hold on to when life got tough. 

He looked you up and down and you didn’t miss the flick of his eyes to your chest area. “You look great. How the hell have you been?” 

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Still working at the diner.” 

“Ah, come on. A girl like you doesn’t have a story? I seriously doubt that.” 

“It’s kind of a long one,” you said, smiling, trying to figure out where the hell you would even start.

You could start with how you got back with Leon and that you had another baby with him. Unplanned, just like the first one, because both of you both left your brains at the door as soon as Leon thrust into you. You could also start with Leon having missed his son’s birth because of a mission that nearly killed him. Or with Ada making sure he got back to you in one piece. With Leon proposing to you and both of you being neck deep in your wedding preparations, with a freshly baked toddler and a nine year old in tow. It was utter chaos. 

“Tell you what, I’m doing a housewarming this weekend. Please come, I’d love to hear you tell me everything over a couple of drinks.” His eyes glinted with joyful anticipation. 

“Yeah, I’d love to,” you said, gleefully. 

Leon stepped beside you, coat hanger with dress in hand. “You’d love to what?” 

You opened your mouth, staring at him. You honestly almost forgot that he was with you for a second. Your own fiancé. This was bad. 

“Oh, uh,” you scrambled for words. “Chris, Leon, Leon, this is Chris.” You motioned between the two men awkwardly. 

“I know him, he’s Claire’s brother,” Leon said, brows drawn together at the blush appearing in your cheeks. Shit. 

“Right, uh,” you mumbled, trying to remember if you had ever told him about Chris. You must have, right? Back in the day? You had told him about your new boyfriend. Of course.

Leon and you hated each other back then. Well, you hated him. You weren’t sure if he ever hated you or it was more him hating himself for messing things up. You barely spoke outside of planning your lives around coparenting Lottie. But you surely mentioned Chris, right? 

Chris’ eyes caught on Leon’s hand that had come to rest demonstratively on the small of your back. 

“I’m throwing a house warming,” Chris said. “I just invited her for old time’s sake. You should come too.” 

“If we can get a babysitter, right?” Leon looked at you, waiting for a response. 

“I can ask Rhonda?” you suggested. “The kids will be over the moon to have a sleepover with her, they love her.” 

“Kids?” Chris asked, emphasizing the s. “As in more than one?” 

You nodded. “Lottie’s a big sister now.” You were dying inside, your face burning hotter than the sun. 

Chris wrinkled his forehead in thought and nodded. “That’s great, I’m really happy for you. You were always a great mom.” 

You smiled at the compliment. “Thank you,” you whispered. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Leon leaned in, flicking his gaze between you and your ex-boyfriend. 

“Oh no,” you and Chris both said at the same time, falling silent immediately at your synchronicity. 

Chris cleared his throat. “The invitation still stands. It would be great if you both could come.” He nodded at Leon. “Good to see you, Leon.” 

“Likewise,” Leon said, watching the taller man intently as he walked off. 

You extended a hand for the coat hanger in his hands but he pulled it out of reach. 

“Back when Lottie was in pre-k,” he said when Chris was out of earshot, not missing a beat. “You had this boyfriend, right?” 

You nodded. “Yeah. Chris.” You busied yourself with picking an invisible speck of lint off your dress and stepped closer to the mirror. 

“Chris as in Chris Redfield?” Leon went on, meeting your gaze.

“Yeah,” you said again, adjusting the way the dress fit at your waist, fumbling with the fabric. 

He blinked. “When were you going to tell me?” 

“Did I have to?” you asked, a little sharper than you intended. 

“I feel like that’s an important thing to note, yes?” Leon shot back. “Why did you guys break up?” 

“He moved away and we didn’t want to do long distance,” you said, moving on to the hemline of your dress, the most interesting thing you had ever seen in your entire life. 

“But if he hadn’t you’d still be together?” 

“Probably.” Leon froze next to you. “I mean, I don’t know. Maybe? Maybe not? I really don’t know,” you rambled. “Is that important?”

“No,” Leon said, a little too quickly and very calmly.  

“Did you get the bigger size?” you asked. 

He hid the coat hanger behind his back, still clearly visible to you. “They didn’t have it. I think you should get this one.” 

Rhonda didn’t need to be asked twice. She was practically at your house with chicken tenders and sugary snacks before you even hung up the phone. Leon desperately tried to remind her that your kids never had any snacks after dinner and to stick to their bedtime routines but you softly grabbed his arm, shaking your head. It was no use.

Rhonda would do whatever Rhonda wanted. And what she wanted was to absolutely spoil both Lottie and Ollie rotten. It was better if you didn’t think about it too much and just enjoyed your night. Besides, a couple of snacks out of the ordinary wouldn’t do any harm in the grand scheme of things. You could go back to your normal routine when you were back and in charge. 

“Stop worrying about the kids,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to Leon’s lips when you were standing in Chris Redfield’s new house. “They’re in good hands. Rhonda has been babysitting for me since forever.” 

“Yeah for you, but not for me,” Leon said, surrendering to the kiss but not really being present. It was like kissing a dead fish.

“You know what?” You snatched his glass from his hands. “I’ll get you another drink.” 

You didn’t get very far. An arm wrapped around your waist pulled you against Leon’s chest. 

“Absolutely not, you’re not going anywhere without me. Not in that dress,” he rasped, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. 

You bit your lip, chuckling softly. “I told you to get me the bigger size.” 

“And I told you they didn’t have it.” Leon’s hand moved down to your hips, pushing your ass against his crotch as his lips trailed kisses down your neck. 

“Is this why you’ve been all over me the whole night?” You asked, turning your head toward him, brushing your nose over his. “Because you’re jealous?”

“I’m not jealous,” he said. “I know I’m the best.” 

“Then why do you keep staring at Chris?” You followed Leon’s gaze to the other end of the room, landing on a particular ex-boyfriend of yours who was watching the both of you. 

“Because I want him to know that too,” Leon whispered, his hand sprawled wide across your ribcage, his thumb brushing over the underside of your boob. “I want him to know that I’m the one who gets to bury himself deep inside you every night. That I’m the one who gets to listen to all those sweet sounds you make when you’re cumming on my cock, not his. Mine.”

Your lips parted ever so slightly, breath hitching in your throat when you felt him through his jeans, hard and rubbing up against your ass. 

“Leon, there’s people around,” you whispered, breathlessly. Chris was still staring at you, even though he was in conversation with someone else. 

“Yeah,” Leon scoffed. “And I would make every single one of them watch, so they all know you’re mine.” 

A soft gasp escaped you and you squeezed your eyes shut. What had gotten into him? Since when was your fiancé so … feral? 

Your eyes fluttered open and you met Chris’ gaze. It had been years since he last looked at you like that and it sent a jolt of desire right between your legs. He looked like he wanted to bend you over the nearest surface and prove Leon wrong. 

“Look at him,” Leon snarled. “He’s so desperate to have you again.” A low chuckle sent a vibration through his chest and the hand that had previously rested on your hip, dipped under the hem of your skirt. “I can’t blame him. You look so delicious in this dress, my god.” 

His fingertips brushed over the thin cotton of your panties and you felt light headed. Chris staring at you with so much longing in his gaze and Leon’s hard cock pressing into you from behind was too much to bear.

“Leon stop,” you breathed, knowing your panties were already soaked. 

He clicked his tongue. “I’d say he’d like to watch. What do you think?”

“How the fuck would you know what I want, Kennedy?” Chris’ voice sent a shiver down your spine as he appeared next to you, close enough to touch. 

A shit-eating grin spread over Leon’s face. “Lucky guess. Besides, it wasn’t that hard. You're a bit of an open book.” 

“Guys, stop,” you hissed, but it came out more like a moan as your hands rested on both of their chests, pushing them apart, albeit half-heartedly. 

“Oh, you’re loving this,” they both snapped at the same time, looking at you. 

You bit back a moan, shaking your head in disbelief. You were absolutely loving this. The thought of it alone, that you could make both Leon and Chris lose their composure like that made you clench around nothing and helplessly rub your thighs together, desperate for the tiniest bit of friction. 

“You ever come home to her with a cracked rib?” Leon asked. 

“And received the sloppiest blowjob known to man? Oh yeah.” Christ chuckled and your ears turned a deep shade of pink. 

You grabbed both of them by the hand and led them away from the other party guests. You felt like you were dragging two dobermans through the crowd. Or two bulls, leading 380 pounds of pure muscle by their dicks. 

You closed the door behind you. This was a bedroom. Your heart started beating faster. 

Leon didn’t miss a beat. His hand slipped into the front of your dress, squeezing the soft flesh of your breast and his mouth latched on to your neck. You whimpered and Chris chuckled, hands carefully coming to rest on your hips, as his lips brushed the shell of your ear. 

“I missed you,” he whispered and you shuddered.

“What’s happening?” Your voice was barely more than a faint squeak as you let your head fall back, leaning into both of their touches. 

“Nothing you don’t want, baby,” Leon groaned, rubbing his hard-on against your thigh. “You know that. Just say it and we’ll stop.” 

Chris nodded, pulling the zipper on the back of your dress down agonisingly slowly. 

You gasped and they both stilled. “Lock the door,” you whispered, pulling Leon in for a searing kiss. 

Chris did as you had asked while you unbuckled Leon’s belt. Leon smiled into the kiss and pulled your dress over your head. 

Chris drew in a sharp breath. “Oh fuck, you look so much hotter now.” 

Leon smiled into the kiss and turned you around in his grasp so you were facing Chris while still pressed against Leon’s chest. Your fiancé's hand slipped into your panties, expertly finding your clit. 

You writhed under his touch, an arm coming up to hold on to Leon’s neck for stability.

“Oh fuck, Leon,” you moaned, as he played with your most sensitive spot, spreading your slickness all over. 

“Look at him, baby. Look at Chris,” he whispered in your ear and you did as you were told. 

Chris was staring at where Leon’s fingers were buried between your thighs and he reached into his own pants, pulling out his hard cock, all veiny and thick like you remembered and started touching himself.

Chris had never been one to beat around the bush. One of your favourite things about him at the time. Maybe even still. 

Leon pushed a finger into you and a soft moan fell from your lips. He shouldn’t be the only one who wasn’t getting off, you thought and pushed his pants down to free his cock too and started stroking him. 

This was surreal. Two dicks, throbbing and hard for you and within your reach. You must have been dreaming. 

Chris bent down, pushed the cup of your bra to the side and started sucking on one of your nipples. “They're so much bigger than I remember,” he murmured and you whined at how sensitive they were. 

“I’m still breastfeeding,” you whispered and Chris’ head shot up. 

Leon chuckled against your neck and nodded. “Oh yeah and it’s the best thing ever.”

Chris continued to suck on your breast, teasing your hard nipple with his tongue, while Leon was pumping his fingers in and out of you. 

Your brows knitted together and you buried your other hand in Chris’ hair, the pleasure nearly being too much to handle and you hadn’t even really started yet. 

Chris nudged your legs apart so his shoulders would fit and moved lower, pulling your panties down with him. 

You head fell back against Leon’s shoulder. His cock twitched in your hand and a guttural sound of pleasure escaped him. “Oh fuck, baby, let us hear you,” he murmured and rid you of your bra entirely, palming your tits. 

Chris licked up your folds in a broad stroke and pushed his tongue into you. Not one to beat around the bush. Still. 

You arched your back against Leon and moaned loudly. “Yes, just like that,” Leon praised meeting the movements of your hand with a thrust of his hips. 

How was this happening? Chris eating you out while you were holding on to Leon for dear life and touching him? Leon was panting in your ear, capturing your earlobe between his lips, rolling your nipple between his fingertips and you squealed softly. 

“Leon,” you mewled. “Play with my ass, I want to be able to take you both.” 

Chris moaned against your wet flesh and Leon pressed his forehead to yours, as if they were both overwhelmed with how much you wanted this.

Leon reached down and gently caressed your ass, while Chris was licking you in the front and you felt your muscles relaxing without any of them even having to do much. The combination of both sensations was enough to make you incredibly wet and ready. 

“Oh my god,” Leon breathed and halted your hand around his cock. “Fuck,” he cursed, biting down on your neck, sucking hard. You leaned into his touch, chuckling softly. There was another man between your legs, but Leon still couldn’t resist the primal urge to mark you as his. 

Your chuckle was cut off by a loud moan when Chris sucked on your clit and buried his fingers deep inside you. “Oh my god, Chris.” 

“I missed that,” Chris said, looking up at you from between your legs. “The way you taste, the way you sound.” 

“No, don’t stop,” you whined and Leon pushed Chris’ head back down. You stared at your fiancé, eyes all glazed over with lust and you felt like marrying him right then and there. 

Your knees buckled and Leon held you in place so Chris could bring you closer and closer to the edge. 

Just to stop. 

You whimpered, clawing at his shoulders as he came back up and captured your lips in a passionate kiss, you tasting yourself on his tongue. This being the first time you kissed Chris again after years only heightened the sensation. He tasted so good. Even without his mouth being covered in your arousal. 

You pressed your hand against his broad chest, fingers sprawling out over his beefy pectorals. “I want to feel you,” you panted and turned your head over to Leon. “And taste you.” 

Your fiancé bit back a grin and nudged your nose with his. “Whatever you want, baby.” 

Chris carried you over to the king sized bed and you got on all fours, arching your back. Neither of them needed to be asked twice. Chris positioned himself behind you and Leon rested one knee on the mattress, pushing his hips forward so you could close your lips around his tip like a lollipop, looking up at him. He groaned and his fingers threaded through your hair, giving it a gentle tug at the back of your head. You moaned around his cock and your eyes fluttered shut, as you felt Chris prodding at your entrance. He slicked himself with your juices, breathing heavily already.

“Wait,” he panted, head snapping up to face Leon and a gentle hand stabilising you on your hip. “What are we doing about birth control and—?” 

You let go of Leon’s cock with a lewd popping sound. “I have an IUD.” 

“And we’re not doing this on the regular,” Leon added, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re a very special boy, Redfield.” 

You pinched his thigh and he hissed. “Be nice,” you said. 

Chris chuckled. “If I were in his position, I would be jealous too,” he said and pushed into you. You were dragged forward a little, holding on to Leon’s thighs for stability. You had forgotten how much broader the head of Chris’ cock was than Leon’s. 

“Oh,” you cried out softly, getting used to his size again. He pulled out and pushed back in gently, a little more each time. Leon watched him, watched how you writhed and squirmed under Chris’ touch, his cock twitching. 

“Looks like you’re the one who likes to watch, Leon,” Chris panted, thrusting up into you all the way in one languid stroke, coaxing a high-pitched moan from you. “Oh fuck, Chris.” 

“I do,” Leon admitted and grasped your chin, tilting your head up to him. “I fucking love it.” 

You closed your lips around his cock, sloppily licking at the tip, swirling your tongue, letting him slip out again to catch your breath and moan loudly as you watched Chris over your shoulder, rutting into you with deep strokes.

“Mh,” you groaned, Leon twitching in your mouth and you sank down on him further, as Chris pushed into you from behind. Leon let out a guttural groan, hands tangled in your hair, holding you in place. 

“Oh my god, oh fuck, oh that feels so good.” A string of curses fell from his lips and he pulled you off him, saliva coating his cock and drooling out of your mouth.

“Do that again,” he panted, gaze flicking between you and Chris. Chris chuckled, gripping your hips tighter, a low groan falling from his lips. 

You opened up for Leon and he pushed into you, his mouth falling open, his cheeks tinted in a deeply pink hue. 

“I’m so close, baby,” he panted, gripping his own cock, guiding it in and out of your mouth, his other hand still resting on the back of your head. 

You moaned around him, the vibration of it making him let out a strangled moan. “Oh fuck, I want to ah—” 

You knew exactly what he wanted. It was his favourite thing lately. 

Chris thrust into you hard, again pushing you forward on the mattress and forcing you to take Leon deeper. 

Leon whimpered in surprise, his cock twitching in your mouth, his hips snapping forward and you tasted a salty spurt of cum on your tongue. You pulled your mouth off him, making him whine at the loss. Arching your back even more, you opened your chest, one hand coming to squeeze your tits together. A smile tugged at Leon’s lips, as he threw his head back and came all over your chest and collarbone, painting you like his own personal Mona Lisa. 

“Oh fuck, oh god,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut, breathing heavily. “Lean back,” he panted, reaching out, but not for you. He pushed Chris down to lay on the mattress, pulling you with him so you were sat facing Leon, both legs on either side of Chris' hips. You lifted yourself up, sinking down on Chris’ cock and Leon pushed your knees apart as wide as they would go, also lowering himself and latching on to your clit. 

“Oh, fuck,” you groaned, barely able to get any words out, digging your nails into Chris’ thighs as you continued to ride him, Leon eating you out at the same time. You clenched down on Chris’ cock and he let out a guttural grunt, grabbing a handful of your ass. 

Your head fell back and you stared at the ceiling. This was incredible. Every nerve ending was set on fire by the two men pleasuring you and you felt your orgasm come so close it might have washed over you at any moment. 

“Oh fuck yes, ah don’t stop, ah, oh fuck Chris, Leon,” you moaned loudly, voice breaking as you fucked yourself on Chris’ cock. You were still covered in Leon’s cum and when you looked down, you saw the thick ropes of white glistening in the dim light like lotion on your soft skin. 

Leon’s mouth sent you over the edge.

You cried out, your muscles tensing, as you rode out a climax so intense you didn’t think you would ever experience anything like it. Moaning and your inner walls massaging Chris' cock you propped yourself up on his chest, clamping your thighs around Leon's head.

"Oh my god," you choked out, barely able to catch your breath.

Leon came up from between your legs and pulled you into a kiss. Never before had you tasted yourself on two men's tongues back to back. Leon tasted completely different. Softer, more delicate. Chris was more musky and intense.

Your ex-boyfriend came up behind you, tilting your head, also kissing you deeply. You went back and forth between them, until Leon moved down, latching onto your nipple, licking his own cum off it and you felt a sudden warm fullness in your breast. Leon let out a satisfied humming sound as he kept sucking and you knew he wasn’t only tasting his own cum when he swallowed greedily. 

You brushed his damp hair out of his face and leaned back, kissing up Chris’ jaw, until you found his mouth, making out with him. 

This was the most obscene position you had ever found yourself in by far. And you never wanted it to end. 

“Did you cum?” you asked Chris in between kisses. He shook his head, gently cupping your cheeks. “But that was so fucking hot,” he breathed. 

“I missed you too,” you admitted, nuzzling the side of his face, his beard gently scratching your softer skin. 

You could be madly in love with someone and still sometimes miss someone else, right? For old time’s sake. Just because you two had broken up, didn’t mean all the love you once had for each other disappeared into the void. You would never cheat on Leon, or go behind his back, but Chris had just been inside you moments ago. Emotionally, this was a little complicated right now. 

Both men gently lowered you back down on the mattress until you were wedged in between their bodies. 

You reached for Leon. “You know I love you, right?” you asked, suddenly feeling anxious and a little needy. 

He smiled softly, pulling you in for a gentle kiss. “Yes, I know.” 

You nodded. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he whispered, lips barely leaving yours. “This is different. I get it.”

You let out a relieved breath and reached behind you for Chris, slinging an arm around the back of his neck.

“I want you both,” you whispered, your eyes finding Chris’. “At the same time.” 

Leon groaned in anticipation and pressed a kiss to your jaw. 

Chris was still hard. Poor guy. He was the only one so far who hadn’t gotten off yet. You shimmied in their grasps until you were facing him and gently closed your hand around his cock, still slick with his precum and your juices. His full lips fell open and his eyes fluttered shut as he let you pleasure him. 

Leon reached between your butt cheeks, caressing your ass again, gently stretching you with the tips of his fingers, preparing you for what was about to come. 

You bit your lip. While you both loved it, Leon and you rarely had anal sex. Chris and you had done it a lot more often back in the day and you knew how much he loved it, how fast it made him come undone. 

You let go of Chris and pressed another kiss to his lips, before turning over again, sinking down between both men. You reached behind you, positioning Chris where you wanted him and grabbed Leon right after, aligning him with your pussy. 

“Are you sure?” Leon was panting already, on the verge of losing it at the thought alone. You nodded. 

“Yes,” you whispered, and you felt Chris gently push into you. You dug your nails into Leon’s biceps, arching your back. 

“Oh my god,” you groaned, Chris’ breath fanning the back of your neck. He drew in a sharp breath and pressed his face into the pillows. 

“Oh fuck, you’re so tight,” he moaned, pushing in a little deeper, his sounds of pleasure becoming even louder. 

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat. You felt so full already. Chris would never be able to push in all the way. But he didn’t need to. You knew this was as incredible for him as it was for you. 

Leon watched your face contort in pleasure as Chris continued to push himself deeper into your ass, finding a slow but steady rhythm. 

“This is so hot,” Leon breathed. 

“I–” you cried out softly, Chris knocking the breath out of your lungs for a second. “I need you…ah– too,” you whimpered, slinging one leg around Leon’s waist, his arm grabbing your thigh, lifting it and opening you up for both him and Chris. 

He aligned himself with your other entrance and you braced yourself, holding on to his shoulders. 

“Leon,” you mewled, meeting his gaze, silently begging him to be gentle. He captured your lips in a kiss instead of a response and thrust into you carefully.

You cried out. 

Feeling both Chris and Leon buried inside of you nearly send you over the edge right then and there. You felt so full, you didn’t know how you were able to take it all. 

When Leon started moving in sync with Chris and both of their breathy moans filled your ears you melted entirely into pleasure. You didn’t know where you ended and Chris began—or Leon. But you didn’t need to. You had two men taking care of you and you trusted them both with it so fully, that you could completely surrender yourself to the sensation, letting go entirely.

Loud moans filled the bedroom, soft sounds of skin meeting skin while breaths quickened and hearts nearly beat out of their respective chest. This was too much. And not enough. You were way too full and way too empty at the same time, every time one of them pulled out, just to thrust into you again. The loop of it was beyond addicting.

You opened your eyes and Leon and Chris were moving closer and closer together, sandwiching you between them, their foreheads nearly touching above you. 

You cried out in pure ecstasy, clenching down on both of them at the same time. Chris echoed your moan. “Oh fuck, I’m close,” he whimpered, pressing his forehead against Leon’s. 

“Let go,” Leon whispered, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. “I got you both.” 

You gripped Leon’s biceps tighter, your mouth falling open in a desperate cry, Chris’ arms coming around your waist, holding on to you in return.

“Oh fuck, I’m coming,” you sobbed, pulsing around Leon, writhing, completely losing yourself. 

Chris let out a guttural grunt, pulling out, hot semen spurting all over your hip and upper thigh. Leon buried a hand in Chris’ hair, pulling him to him, Chris silencing his choked moan with an open mouthed kiss. 

After all three of you came down, you lay in bed, holding on to each other. You were covered in both Leon and Chris’ cum, more of Leon’s leaking out of you and onto Chris sheets. But neither of you cared. 

“You’re a really good kisser,” Leon whispered, cupping Chris’ cheek, staring at him. 

“I know,” Chris chuckled. 

You quietly opened the door, tiptoeing into the kitchen. Leon slipped in behind you. The birds were singing outside and the sun was slowly rising. You hadn’t slept all night.

Chris had offered both of you to stay over but you had politely declined because Rhonda was still babysitting your kids and you didn’t want to walk in dishevelled, wearing last night’s clothes while your kids were already awake, sitting around the kitchen table for breakfast. 

“Where the hell have you been?” 

You flinched and Leon nearly stumbled. “Holy shit, Rhonda.” 

She stood in the kitchen, in her pyjamas, fists pressed into her wide hips, staring you down like you were two teenagers she had just caught drinking and smoking weed in a field. 

“At Chris’ housewarming like I told you,” you murmured, looking at Leon who nervously scratched the back of his neck. As he did you spotted a massive hickey right under his ear and your eyebrows shot up. That one wasn’t from you. Not that you remembered anyway. 

“You didn’t come home all night, I was worried sick,” Rhonda went on. 

“Those are some big words coming from someone who probably fed our kids candy all night and let them stay up way past their bedtime,” Leon huffed, quietly closing the door behind him. “I’d say we’re even.”

-----

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03 Get me another beer, bitch // sequel pairing; no apocalypse au!Daryl x f!best friend!reader summary; a sequel to the above fic! word count; 4.3k

04 I touch myself //oneshot 🍎 pairing; trailer park au! virgin!daryl x his hand x f!reader summary; With the trailer to himself Daryl does some… self exploration at the thought of his best friend while she washes her car. word count; 1.4k

01 Beep! Beep!// oneshot 🍎 pairing; re9!Leon x wife!Reader summary; Leon comes home from a boring work day and decides to take his wife out for a drive 🤭 word count; 1.4k

02 Go, be a hero.// ongoing series 🍎🍏🐞 pairing; Leon x ex!f!reader summary; on going fic with a complicated relationship and now a baby lol

03 Officer down / oneshot 🍎 pairing; Rookie!Leon x College!f!Reader summary; Inspired by @feralbuni666's fic Call for backup which was so unbelievably peak. Coming out as soon as I stop being busy 😭 word count; ...

01 By the Lake //oneshot 🍎 pairing: arthur

morgan x f!reader summary; A hot afternoon by the lake turns into something far more dangerous when a stranger with a fishing rod interrupts your reading of Romeo and Juliet.  word count: 6.8k  02 When the Man Comes Around // drabble 🍎 pairing; arthur x f!reader summary; a piece of prose about Arthur coming but never stating, I was thinking about Eliza when I wrote it. word count; 600ish

𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ Author Note 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏

This is a work in progress and I’m hoping to add even more characters & fandoms to it as I work on my writing and just try to have fun with it!!

The soft breeze caused ripples to form in the tarp above you  and you smiled faintly, feeling the cool air brush across your face and bare arms.

It had been unbearably hot the last few days, the kind of heat that clung to your skin no matter how still you sat. But down by the lake, beneath the shade of the trees, the air felt lighter. Bearable at least. 

You adjusted yourself against the folded blanket beneath you, one leg bent lazily while the other hung over the edge of the small patch of shade. Above your head, the tarp you’d tied between two trees shifted gently with every passing breeze.

In your hands sat a worn copy of Romeo and Juliet, its corners bent and softened from rereading. 

…My bounty is as boundless as the sea… you murmured quietly to yourself, tracing the words with your thumb.

A splash interrupted you. Not loud. Just enough to pull your attention from the page.

You glanced up.

A man stood several yards down the shore, boots planted near the water’s edge, fishing rod in hand. Tall. Broad-shouldered. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, suspenders hanging loose against a faded blue shirt dampened darker with sweat across the back.

You hadn’t noticed him arrive. But now that you’d see him, it was hard to look away. 

He seemed focused entirely on the lake until he reeled the line in and turned slightly - enough for you to catch sight of the scruffy beard and the shadow cast by the brim of his hat.

Then his eyes flicked toward you.

You quickly looked back down at your book.

The lake went quiet again except for the distant buzz of insects and the creak of your tarp overhead.

You tried to continue reading. Tried not to look back at him. But your mind wandered with every second that passed. 

“Good afternoon. ma’am.” 

The voice drifted across the water low and gravelly, enough to pull your attention from the page without startling you.

Up close - or as close as this distance allowed - he looked less intimidating than he had at first glance. Large, certainly. Broad in the shoulders with a face worn tired by sun and hard living. But his posture stayed easy, careful almost, like he understood a woman alone might not appreciate being approached by a stranger.

You placed a finger between the pages of your book.

“Good afternoon.” You replied politely.

“Never thought books would survive out in this heat.”

“They do if you’re careful with them.” 

“Yes ma’am, guess that makes sense.”

The corner of your mouth twitched faintly.

He reeled his line in a little before casting it back out into the lake with practiced ease. The line whistled softly through the air.

For a minute, neither of you spoke.

The tarp above shifted with another cool breeze, dappling moving shadows across the pages in your lap. You tried to return to your reading.

…My only love sprung from my only hate…

“What’re you readin’, if you don’t mind me askin’?” interrupting your reading again. 

The man tipped his hat politely this time, almost apologetic for interrupting.

“Romeo and Juliet.”

He frowned slightly in thought.

“Heard the name before. Don’t think I ever read it.”

“You’re not missing a happy ending.”

That drew a quiet laugh from him.

“No, ma’am?”

“Everyone dies.”

Arthur blinked once.

“Well. That does seem unfortunate.”

You laughed softly before you could stop yourself.

The sound seemed to catch him by surprise. Not in a bad way, more like he hadn’t expected you to laugh at all.

He looked back toward the lake, though you noticed the faint hint of a smile lingering beneath his beard.

“I suppose fishing isn't much different.” You said abruptly and he furrowed his brow. 

“I let most of ‘em go, keep the big ones for dinner.” he sighed “Haven’t caught a damn thing today.”

“Maybe they sensed your pessimism.”

“Yes, ma’am. Fish are known for that.”

You hid another smile behind the spine of your book.

Silence settled again, easier this time.

You found yourself watching him over the top edge of the pages now and then. The slow roll of his sleeves exposed strong forearms tanned by the sun, and every movement he made carried the kind of unthinking steadiness of someone used to long days outdoors. 

After a while, he glanced back toward your tarp.

“That’s clever.”

You lowered the book slightly. “What is?”

“Your tarp.” He nodded toward the knots tied between the trees. “Keeps the sun off better than most tents I’ve slept in.”

“Oh.” You looked up at it briefly. “Thank you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He paused. “You campin’ out here alone?”

There was no suspicion in the question. Just concern politely disguised as conversation.

“For the afternoon.” 

“Well,” he said after a moment, “I reckon there’s worse ways to spend a hot day than sittin’ in the shade readin’ tragic stories.”

You studied him for a second before replying.

“And there are worse ways than standing in the sun talking to strangers, apparently.”

That finally earned a real smile from him; small, crooked, and unexpectedly warm.

“There are few strangers worth talking to ‘round these parts.” He muttered, readjusting his hat.

“Well I’m glad I made the cut.” 

Arthur huffed a quiet laugh through his nose, eyes lowering for a moment before lifting back to you.

“Helps you’re easy on the eye,” he said, almost bashful despite the words.

Heat rushed into your cheeks immediately, though the warm afternoon sun disguised it well enough. You looked quickly back down at your book, pretending sudden interest in the page.

“I’m only playin’,” he added after a second when you didn’t answer, the back of his hand rubbing awkwardly along his jaw.

You smiled faintly to yourself before glancing back up at him through your lashes.

“I could say the same for you, sir.”

Arthur blinked.

For the first time since you’d noticed him by the water, he seemed genuinely caught off guard.

A flush crept slowly up the back of his neck and into his cheeks beneath the scruff of his beard, and he cleared his throat roughly as though it might somehow recover his dignity.

“Well.” He shifted his weight awkwardly. “That ain’t usually somethin’ I hear much.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, though the crooked little smile tugging at his mouth betrayed him completely.

You watched him glance away toward the lake again, almost shy now, and the sight of a man his size looking suddenly uncertain made something warm twist pleasantly in your chest.

Arthur adjusted the brim of his hat lower over his eyes.

“You flirt with every fella that interrupts your readin’?”

“Only the polite ones.” 

That earned another laugh from him. 

The breeze stirred between the trees again, carrying the scent of lake water and summer rain somewhere far off. Arthur rested the fishing rod against his shoulder loosely, looking back at you after a moment.

“What happens next then?” he asked, nodding toward the book in your lap.

“In the story?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You studied him for a second, amused.

“You want me to spoil Shakespeare for you?”

“Well, I ain’t gonna read it and now I’m invested.”

You smiled, settling more comfortably beneath the tarp while Arthur lingered by the shore listening, the two of you talking as though you’d known each other longer than a single hot afternoon.

You folded the corner of the page carefully before closing the book halfway in your lap. The conversation had become far more distracting than the story.

Arthur seemed to notice.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “Didn’t mean to keep interruptin’.”

“You aren’t.”

His gaze lifted back to yours at that, quieter now somehow.

The breeze shifted again, moving the tarp overhead in soft waves. Arthur glanced toward the shade you’d made between the trees.

“Looks comfortable there.”

“It is.”

“Mind if I stand in the shade a minute?” he asked. “Sun’s tryin’ to kill me.”

You smiled faintly. “I suppose -  as long as you don’t attack me.”

“No, ma’am. I won’t.”

He stepped closer then, slow enough not to crowd you, boots crunching softly against the dirt and fallen leaves. Up close, you could better see the lines sun and exhaustion had carved into his face. There was something gentle hidden beneath all the roughness.

Arthur stopped just outside arm’s reach.

“Much appreciated,” he murmured, tipping his head politely.

“You’re very formal for a man standing by a lake with a fishing pole.”

“Well,” he said, “my mama raised me right before the world got ahold of me.”

The honesty in that caught you off guard.

You softened a little. “And here I assumed you were naturally charming.”

He smirked beneath the brim of his hat before finally taking it off, setting it beside him in the grass near the edge of your blanket. Without it, his hair fell messily from where the heat and wind had flattened it. He pushed a hand back through it, rough fingers combing the strands into something more familiar.

You tried not to stare.

“What's your name then, cowboy?” you teased.

“Arthur,” he answered easily, glancing over at you. “And you?”

You smiled innocently and returned your attention to the book in your lap.

“My mama raised me not to open up to random men.”

Arthur barked a short laugh at that, ducking his head.

“Well, sounds like a smart woman.”

“She was.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He leaned back against the tree trunk carefully, long legs stretched out in front of him. “Though I feel obliged to point out you’ve been talkin’ to me near half an hour already.”

“I never said I was followin’ her advice.”

That earned you another grin, slower this time.

“You always this difficult?”

“Only around cowboys.”

“Mhm.” Arthur glanced toward the fishing pole lying abandoned near the shore. “Thought fishin’ was supposed to be the dangerous part of my afternoon.”

“You approached me, remember?”

“Yes, ma’am, and I’m beginnin’ to suspect that was my first mistake.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head.

Arthur watched the sound leave you with that same quiet fondness creeping back into his expression.

“You got a name I can call you besides ma’am?” he asked after a moment, voice gentler now.

You looked at him over the edge of your book.

“I quite like ma’am actually.” 

Arthur looked back at you, the corner of his mouth tugging upward again.

“Oh, do you now?”

“It makes me sound respectable.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied immediately, the amusement in his voice warm and easy.

You smiled behind the edge of your book. “See? I like the way you say it.”

That seemed to catch him off guard more than the flirting had.

Arthur ducked his head slightly, rubbing his thumb along the brim of the hat resting beside him.

“Well,” he muttered, “suppose I can keep sayin’ it then.”

“How gentlemanly.”

“I ought to be.” 

You studied him quietly for a moment while the breeze moved lazily through the trees. Up close like this, he didn’t seem nearly as intimidating as he first had standing down by the lake. Large, yes. Rough around the edges certainly. But there was patience in him. Carefulness.

Arthur glanced toward your book again.

“You read all them fancy stories often?”

“Only the tragic ones.”

“Any reason?”

You thought for a second. “I think sad stories are romantic.”

“I suppose they are.”  

He squinted slightly against the sunlight breaking through the trees, one forearm resting over his bent knee while the other toyed absentmindedly with a loose thread on his hat. 

“But only when they ain’t happenin’ to you,” he added quietly.

You watched the breeze stir through his hair where his hat sat abandoned beside him, the afternoon light catching against the tired lines around his eyes. He looked like someone who knew sad stories better than he wanted to.

“And what about happy ones?” you asked.

Arthur huffed softly through his nose.

“Don’t reckon folks write many books about happy people.”

“No,” you admitted. “I suppose they’d be rather boring.”

“There you go.”

You smiled faintly, hugging the book a little closer to your chest.

“What about you?” you asked cautiously, fingers idly tracing the edge of the page. “You got a love story?”

The question hung gently between you.

Arthur’s faint smile faded into something quieter.

Not unhappy exactly. Just thoughtful.

He leaned his head back against the tree trunk, eyes drifting out across the lake while the breeze stirred softly through the branches overhead.

“Maybe once,” he admitted after a moment.

Your stomach tightened despite yourself.

“Oh.”

Arthur noticed the shift in your expression immediately and glanced back toward you.

“Ain’t got a girl waitin’ on me, if that’s what you’re askin’,” he said, voice calm and reassuring in a way that made heat creep embarrassingly into your face.

“I wasn’t asking that.”

“Mhm.”

You looked down at your book quickly.

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, though there was no meanness in it.

“She was a long time ago,” he continued more softly. “Good woman. Smarter than me by a fair margin.”

“What happened?”

Arthur rubbed his thumb slowly along his jaw.

“Life, mostly.”

The answer carried enough weight that you didn’t push further.

For a moment neither of you spoke. But the need to ask rose in your throat. 

“You still love her?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

Arthur went still for a second.

Then he smiled faintly,  small enough you almost missed it.

“I reckon you don’t stop carin’ about certain people,” he said. “Even after they stop bein’ yours.”

Something about the honesty of it made your chest ache unexpectedly.

He glanced toward you again then, eyes gentler now.

“But that don’t mean a man can’t keep livin’.”

The words settled warm beneath your ribs.

You looked down, pretending to straighten the pages of your book to hide the smile threatening at your mouth.

Arthur watched you quietly for a moment before speaking again.

“What about you, ma’am?”

You looked back up.

“Got some tragic romance tucked away in your past?”

“No.” You smiled faintly. “Nothing nearly dramatic enough for Shakespeare.”

“Well, that’s probably good.”

“You think so?”

“Yes ma’am.” 

“Well I think it makes me utterly dull.” You muttered, hand running through your hair softly. 

You watched him shift slightly beneath the tarp, careful not to crowd your space despite how comfortably the conversation had settled between you both. His shoulder brushed the tree trunk behind him, large hands resting loosely over one knee.

“You ain’t dull sweetheart,” he said after a moment, voice low. 

The word settled over you far warmer than the afternoon heat ever had.

You looked up from beneath your lashes, caught entirely off guard by how naturally it left him. Not cocky. Not practiced. Just gentle.

Arthur seemed to realize a second later what he’d called you.

A faint flush crept into his face almost immediately, and he cleared his throat softly, glancing toward the lake like it might save him.

“Pardon me,” he muttered. “That just… slipped out.”

You smiled despite yourself. “Did it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” His mouth twitched faintly. “Been spendin’ too much time talkin’ to you, apparently.”

“And what does that do?”

“Makes a man careless.”

The way he said it made your stomach flip pleasantly.

Arthur rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, still looking a little embarrassed by his own boldness.

“I only meant…” He paused, searching for the words. “You got a calm about you. Ain’t many people these days can sit quiet with themselves the way you do.”

Your expression softened.

Most people mistook your quietness for shyness or awkwardness. Arthur spoke about it like it was something worth admiring.

The breeze stirred between you again, lifting strands of your hair across your cheek.

He watched you carefully, his hand twitching instinctively like he was going to tuck the strand behind your ear. 

But he stopped himself.

You noticed the restraint immediately, the way his fingers curled slightly before settling back against his knee instead.

Arthur let out a quiet breath through his nose, almost amused at himself.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “Keep forgettin’ you don’t know me well enough for that.”

Something about the softness in his voice made your chest tighten.

“You ask permission for everything?” you teased gently.

A crooked smile tugged at his mouth.

“Try to.”

“That must get exhausting.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said dryly. “Women tend to appreciate it though.”

You laughed quietly, and Arthur looked pleased with himself for causing it.

The strand of hair blew across your face again.

This time you tilted your head slightly toward him.

Arthur’s eyes flicked to the movement instantly, like he wasn’t sure he’d understood it correctly.

“You can,” you said softly.

For a second he didn’t move at all.

Then slowly, carefully enough that you could’ve pulled away if you wanted - he reached toward you.

His fingers brushed lightly against your temple, rough fingertips impossibly gentle as he tucked the strand behind your ear.

The touch lasted barely a moment. Still, warmth bloomed across your skin long after he pulled his hand back.

Arthur cleared his throat quietly afterward, suddenly very interested in the lake again.

“There,” he muttered. “Much better.”

You smiled faintly. “Thank you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

But his voice sounded a little rougher now.

At some point, your shoulder had settled against his.

Neither of you mentioned it.

Arthur glanced down after a while, noticing your hand resting between you both on the blanket.

Then slowly, cautiously, he turned his hand over beside yours.

An offer.

Nothing more.

Your heart fluttered embarrassingly hard as your fingers slipped against his.

Arthur exhaled softly through his nose at the contact, thumb brushing once over your knuckles.

The air beneath the tarp felt smaller somehow. Warmer. And Arthur sat close enough that your knees brushed every so often when one of you shifted, neither of you bothering to move away afterward.

“You’re starin’ again,” you murmured softly.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The honesty of it made your pulse stumble.

Arthur’s gaze dropped briefly to your mouth before lifting again, restraint written all over his face.

“Tell me to stop,” he said quietly.

You couldn’t.

The breeze stirred softly around you while the lake lapped against the shore in the distance.

Arthur lifted one hand slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, fingertips brushing lightly along your jaw.

“So pretty,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Your breath caught.

Arthur’s eyes lingered on your face openly now, no longer pretending otherwise. His thumb brushed slowly along your cheek, rough fingertips impossibly gentle against your skin.

“Think I've been distracted since the second I saw you sittin’ here,” he admitted quietly.

Heat bloomed through your chest.

“You say that to every woman reading under a tarp?”

A grin tugged at his mouth.

“No, ma’am. Most women ain’t this hard to look away from.”

You tried to hide your smile, but Arthur noticed immediately.

“There it is,” he murmured softly.

“What?”

“That smile.” His eyes flicked over your face like he was memorizing it. “Been tryin’ to get more of those outta you all afternoon.”

Your stomach fluttered embarrassingly hard. Your core aching in  a way only literature could ever make it. 

Arthur leaned a little closer, close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him beneath the summer heat.

“You know,” he said lowly, “when I walked down to this lake today, I thought I was gonna spend the afternoon catchin’ fish.”

“And instead?”

“And instead I found the prettiest thing out here lookin’ at me like she’s decidin’ whether I’m trouble.”

You laughed softly under your breath. “And are you?”

Arthur’s gaze dipped briefly to your mouth before lifting again.

“For you?” he murmured. “Oh probably.”

His voice was making you disgustingly wet beneath your petticoats and you prayed the blush on your face wasn't noticeable. 

“You alright there, sweetheart?” he murmured, clearly noticing your silence.

You nodded far too quickly.

That crooked smile returned immediately.“Mhm,” he hummed softly, unconvinced. “Don’t sound very certain.”

“You talk too much.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His thumb brushed lightly beneath your chin again. “But you like it.”

The fact he said it so confidently made your stomach coil, your thighs squeezing together in a desperate attempt to keep your cool. 

Arthur’s eyes drifted over your face, lingering on every tiny reaction you failed to hide from him. The blush in your cheeks. The way your lips parted whenever he leaned closer. The quick rise and fall of your breathing.

He noticed all of it.

And judging by the look on his face, he enjoyed noticing.

“You get shy when somebody compliments you?” he asked quietly.

“Maybe.”

Arthur chuckled warmly beneath his breath.

“Aw, don’t hide now.” He caught your wrist gently before you could turn away completely. “Been workin’ hard for these reactions.”

“You’re enjoying this far too much.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he admitted shamelessly.

The breeze shifted around the tarp again, but you barely noticed it with Arthur sitting so close.

“You know what’s unfair?” he murmured after a moment.

“What?”

“You got me sittin’ here feelin’ like some lovesick idiot over a woman whose name I still don’t know.”

You smiled despite yourself. “Maybe I enjoy keeping you suffering.”

“Well,” Arthur laughed softly, shaking his head, “it’s workin’.”

The sound rumbled low in his chest, warm enough to make your stomach twist pleasantly again.

You became painfully aware then of just how close he’d gotten beneath the tarp. His broad shoulders angled toward you now instead of the lake. The shade cast soft shadows across him, catching along the muscles in his forearms where his sleeves remained rolled carelessly to his elbows.

Arthur was not a delicate man.

Everything about him felt solid. The kind of strength earned through work instead of vanity. Thick forearms dusted with hair, broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his faded shirt, large hands capable of gentleness despite looking like they belonged wrapped around reins or rough wood instead of your face.

Your gaze dropped before you could stop it.

Down the slope of his chest. The suspenders hanging loose against his shirt. The spread of his thighs where he sat close beside you in the grass.

Arthur noticed immediately.

A slow smile tugged at his mouth.

“Careful now, sweetheart,” he murmured.

Heat flooded your face instantly as your eyes snapped back to his.

“I wasn’t-”

“Yes, you were.” His voice stayed low and teasing, though there was something rougher beneath it now too. “And I gotta admit…”

He shifted slightly closer.

“…I liked it.”

Your pulse fluttered hard when his hand settled beside your hip against the blanket, caging you in without forcing anything.

“You’re very confident suddenly.”

“No, ma’am.” His eyes dipped briefly to your mouth again. “Just think maybe you want me a little too.”

His jaw flexed slightly.

And only then did you notice the shift in him too. The tension settling heavier throughout his body, his posture tighter despite how relaxed he tried to appear. The spread of his legs, the large bulge in his trousers that grew with each passing comment.

A flicker of heat crossed his expression and he exhaled hard. 

“Sweetheart,” he said softly, almost warningly, “you keep lookin’ at me like that and I’m gonna forget how polite I’m tryin’ to be.”

You swallowed hard beneath the weight of his gaze.

“Well,” you murmured, inching a little closer across the blanket, “That’s no good is it?” 

Arthur’s eyes followed the movement immediately.

You could feel the heat radiating from him now, close enough that your knee brushed firmly against his thigh. Neither of you moved away.

“You accuse me of distractin’ you,” you continued softly, “while you sit there lookin’ like that.”

A low laugh escaped him.

“Like what, sweetheart?”

You let your eyes drift deliberately over him again, slower this time.

“The shoulders.” You reached out lightly, fingers brushing the fabric stretched across his upper arm. “The voice.”

Arthur’s jaw tightened subtly beneath the scruff of his beard.

“And you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured.

The teasing confidence in his voice only encouraged you further.

You shifted again, leaning back slightly onto one hand. The movement loosened the neckline of your blouse just enough for the warm breeze to brush against newly exposed skin.

Arthur’s eyes dropped instinctively.

Only for a second.

But you caught it.

A smile tugged at your mouth immediately.

“There it is.”

His gaze snapped back to yours, caught.

“Beg pardon,” he muttered, though his voice had gone noticeably rougher.

“You’re very polite for a man who keeps staring at my chest.”

Arthur let out a breathy laugh, dragging a hand down his face.

“Well,” he admitted quietly, “you’re makin’ that awfully difficult not to do.”

Heat fluttered low in your stomach again.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t attack me if I let you under my tarp.” 

Arthur stared at you for half a second before a startled laugh escaped him, low and entirely disbelieving. 

“I’m tryin’ my hardest sweetheart.” 

You smiled innocently, “Seems pretty difficult for you.” 

“Lean any closer and you’ll see how difficult it really is.” 

Arthur’s hand remained steady at your waist, fingers flexing lightly against the fabric of your skirt like he was constantly reminding himself not to pull you fully into his lap.

“You know,” he murmured, eyes dragging slowly over your face before betraying him and dipping briefly lower again, “most women don’t tease armed strangers in the woods.”

“Most armed strangers aren’t blushing because they saw a little bit of collarbone.”

Arthur groaned softly under his breath, tipping his head back against the tree for a second.

“Lord help me.”

You laughed quietly, delighted by how easily he unraveled for you despite trying so hard not to.

“You’re enjoying this entirely too much,” he muttered.

“Maybe I like seeing you flustered.”

“Mhm.” A slow grin tugged at his mouth. “And maybe I like being teased by pretty women beneath handmade tents.”

A few moments passed as you basked in the heated tension between you both. 

“You keep lookin’ at me like that,” he murmured, quieter now, “and I’m gonna stop thinkin’ straight.”

Your breath caught slightly.

“You already stopped thinking straight,” you replied softly.

That earned a low huff of laughter from him, but it faded quickly into something more serious.

“You’re real good at that,” he said quietly.

“At what?”

“Pushin’ a man right up to the edge… then lookin’ at him like you don’t know what you’re doin’.”

His thumb brushed once along your side.

Slow. Deliberate.

“And I’m bein’ real good about not forgettin’ my manners.”

“You’re being very good,” you said quietly. “Almost disappointingly so.” 

“Yeah?” he murmured.

You nodded faintly.The tarp shifted above you with the breeze, but neither of you seemed to notice anymore.

He leaned in and kissed you like he meant to be careful with it. Like every second was something he could still take back if he needed. His hand on yours, his other on your face - not pulling or pressing, just there, like an anchor he was afraid wouldn't hold. 

His eyes were half-lidded when they opened again, focused on you like you were something he couldn't trust himself with anymore.

The world beyond the tarp seemed far away now: the lake, the trees, the distant hum of insects faded into a blur beneath the pounding of your heartbeat. 

Arthur shifted his thumb against your cheek, rough skin warm where it rested there. 

“You alright?” he asked quietly.

You nodded faintly, the tip of your nose brushing against his. 

His gaze lingered on your mouth again before he exhaled softly, almost frustrated with himself.

“Christ.” he muttered under his breath. 

He kissed you again, deeper this time. His hand sliding from  your cheek to rest against your jaw. His body twitched like he needed the contact more than he wanted to admit. 

When the kiss broke again, he rested his forehead lightly against yours and closed his eyes for a second. 

“Sweetheart,” he said quietly, voice roughed down to something almost intimidating, “you are testin’ every good intention I got.” 

“What are your other intentions, Arthur?” 

For a faint second he said nothing, just kept studying you with that restrained intensity. Then that smile tugged on his lips again. 

“You really oughta stop sayin’ things like that.” he murmured. 

“But you like it.” You teased, your other hand tip toeing up his thigh and moving towards his tucked in shirt. 

His hand slid slowly from your jaw, finger trailing down your neck, before jumping to catch your hand on his midriff. 

The movement drew you closer, your chest adjacent to his - almost touching. 

“You keep lookin’ at me like you want somethin’.” he whispered.

“It isn’t ladylike to ask for what I want, cowboy.” 

“And what is it that you want?” 

You laughed, unable to say the words that came to mind. 

“You’re trouble.” he muttered “You’re handsome.” 

“You know,” he said after a moment, lifting his eyes back to yours, “most women ain’t usually this forward with me.”

“Maybe most women haven’t found themselves beneath a tarp with you- and no one in sight.”

Then, very deliberately, he leaned in and kissed you again. Pushing you backwards so he was the one on top. His broad shoulders blocking out the filtered sunlight overhead. 

You lay on your back now, one hand pinned down by his, the other at your side. The shift pulled a quiet sound from your throat. Your heart hammered painfully hard beneath your ribs as Arthur kissed you deeper now, rougher only in the sense that restraint had begun slipping through his fingers. His breathing had turned uneven, every exhale warm against your mouth. 

“You’re real pretty laid out like this,” he murmured before he could seem to stop himself. 

His lips brushed your cheek first, slow enough to make your pulse stutter before trailing lower along your jaw. Then your neck. Then the exposed skin near your collar where your blouse had shifted loose beneath his hands. 

“Real pretty.” 

A startled gasp escaped you, eyes squeezing shut as his tongue explored.

“C’mon ma’am,” he murmured against your skin “where's all that attitude gone?” 

You swallowed hard, fingers instinctively curling tighter around his. 

“You talk entirely too much.” you breathed. 

“Mhm.” Arthur lifted his head just enough to look in your eyes “There you are, thought I'd stunned you silent.” 

You tried to glare at him, but the feeling of him sucking and lapping at your neck felt too good to deny. 

“You blush so easily,” he said softly, as though he was fascinated by you. 

“And whose fault is that?” “Mine, I hope.” 

His right hand still held you in place while his left grabbed at your waist, wandering down to your skirts. 

“You still alright?” he asked quietly.

You nodded. 

“You sure you’re wantin’ this- me?” he asked, that confident facade fading momentarily. 

“I need you.” you whimpered, biting your lip as you held eye contact. 

“Fuck.” That did it. 

The word left him rough and breathless, like it had been dragged out of him against his will. 

Arthur closed his eyes for half a second, his hand instinctively tightening at your waist, bunching the fabric of your skirt in his fist while he breathed hard through his nose. 

He shifted slightly over you, broad shoulders boxing you safely beneath the shade of the tarp while his right hand moved slowly to your leg, caressing you from knee to upper thigh. 

“So soft-” he mewled, thumb flicking against your clothed core briefly before darting away. 

You swallowed hard as he did, his gaze following every miniscule reaction that crossed your face. 

“Tell me if I go too far.” he said softly. But it wasn’t a question, moreso a demand.

He arched his back and he crawled backwards, bunching your skirts up and revealing your dripping undergarments. 

“Jesus wept woman-” his eyes grew wide.  

“Arthur-” you moaned, biting your lip.

With that he forgot about holding back entirely. His rough hand cupped you softly, two fingers pushing your underwear into your wetness. 

You gasped as you felt them enter just and no more. 

Arthur brought them to his mouth and tasted them, eyes rolling back as he did so. 

“Fuck~” his hand went back again, impatient as he tried to figure out how to get them off. “Ah hell.” he growled, taking both his hands and ripping the underwear in half. 

You gasped loudly, the breeze hitting your wet clit, sending a bolt of shivers up your spine. 

“Need to taste you.” He mumbled, bringing his face towards it. 

When his tongue hit your hole it was over. You were a mess, moaning and writhing as he licked and sucked. The noises he made were equally dirty as the ground he rolled his hips into. 

“So good~” he moaned. “Fuck so sweet~” 

“Don’t stop!” you cried, your hand in his hair. 

You could only see his eyes, wild with passion, as he buried his tongue inside you, his nose rubbing against your clit fervently. 

“Arthur~” you cried, your head thrown back in pleasure. 

He pulled away, leaving you with a soft buzzing in your core. 

“I need you, okay sweetheart?” he knelt upwards, wiping his face with his sleeve and undoing his zip with the other hand. 

His cock was massive, the biggest you’d seen. His girth alone was impressive, never mind the length of it. 

He pumped it a few times as it dripped onto the grass. 

“I haven’t done this in a while but- I’ll be gentle-” he started, but you stopped him.

“Just take me- now.” you moaned, body limp against the blanket. 

“Yes ma’am.” he obliged, his right hand against your waist, the left still pumping his cock. 

When he pushed into you,  tears stung in the corners of your eyes and you cried out as you felt more and more of him fill you up. 

“Thatta girl~” he moaned, “just a little more.” 

When his hips finally met yours, you couldn't help but buck yourself up against him, and he laughed softly. 

“Desperate for me, ain’t you girl?” 

You nodded , your head falling to the side, cheeks glistening with tears. 

“Hey now,” he frowned, his thumb coming up and wiping them away, “you’re okay, I got you beautiful.” 

You cried out as he hit that coil in your stomach, the mix of his sweet words and his cock causing you to writhe. Your body shook with pleasure, his name mixed with moans and sobs falling from your lips as your head flew back.   

“Arthur~” you choked out, eyes still squeezed shut. 

He kept thrusting into you, and when you opened your eyes he had unbuttoned his shirt, clearly too hot for all of this exercise. 

“Sweetheart, you’re so good~” he moaned out, shifting so his hands were either side of your head. “So good f’r me.” 

His relentless attack continued, thrusting harder and further than before. His pace steady, but his arms shaking as he got closer and closer. 

“So pretty ain’t you- what would daddy say if he knew what you were up to.” 

That comment caused you to flush red, you hadn’t imagined Arthur to be a dirty talker - you hadn't imagined him to be anymore than a fisherman. 

“Don’t get shy now,.” He moved a hand to your jaw, tipping it so you were forced to look at him, his thrusting slow and slight. “smart girl like you, bet you wanted someone like me to walk up on you.” 

“Arthur~” you started, but it fell into a crude moan as he tightened his hand around your throat. 

“Pretty girl.” He drawled, using your neck and his other hand as anchors to hold you down as he fucked into you. “You gonna take it?” He teased, but you knew exactly what he meant. 

“Take what?” You batted your eyes, looking up into his storm fuelled eyes. 

“Fuck~ so sweet.” He moaned, head hanging low as he thrusted. “I’m gonna pump you full of me, okay pretty girl?” 

You whimpered your approval and he applied more pressure on your neck, causing you to gasp out and writhe under him.

He stopped and watched you for a moment, your silent pleads for him to release you from his grasp. Then he complied, watching as you gasped and choked. 

“Told you I was holding back beautiful.” 

“More- please” you gasped out, his cock splitting you in two. 

“What? You like that pretty girl?” He whispered and you nodded fast. He laughed. “Want me to fuck you harder is that it?” 

“Fuck~ please-” You mewled, tears still rolling down the sides of your face, your pussy burning as its filled to the brink. 

“You done that before?” he asked, more sincerely this time, and you shook your head. “Oh darlin’, I don’t want to scare you.” 

“A-arthur, I wanna.” you coughed out “I want to be had- taken by you.” 

“God almighty woman.” He looked around, noticing no one was there. “On your front then. I won't ask twice.” 

He pulled out of you and you winced, your hole flooded and open at the lack of him. You flipped yourself over, wiggling your hips in the air.

“Atta girl~ so naughty.” He smiled, smacking your cheek. You cried out, and he grabbed it, pushing into the sore spot he had left. “Uh uh pretty girl, you can do better than that.” 

With that he hit the other, then back to the original, over and over relentlessly as you cried for him, tears dripping, your face, now in the dirt  beyond the blanket. 

“Look at you, so dirty.” He pouted, rubbing his cock against your slit. “What would your daddy say hmm?” 

“Arthur- I-” 

“Shhhh shhhh no sweetheart. You done ‘nough talking.” He put his hand over your mouth and pulled you upwards. His other hand holding his dick, slipping the tip against your entrance. “I’m gonna fuck this pretty pussy now, that what you want?” 

You moaned against his hand. 

“Thought so.” He grunted, pushing himself into you in one swift movement. 

It hurt horribly at first, and you cried whole heartedly into his hand. He knew it hurt too, as he kept rubbing his thumb gently against your cheek, his body language so different from the tone he had taken with you just moments before. 

“Now now, sweetheart, yr’alright.” 

You moaned into his hand, your drool dripping between his fingers. He let go a little, wiping his hand on the blanket before slotting two fingers into your mouth. 

Your pussy leaked at the taste, and you felt your sweet juice drip down your thighs. 

“Smart girls are always the dirtiest.” He grunted, forcing his fingers down your throat as you sobbed  and moaned. “But you like it, don’t you?” 

“Yeah~” you said, muffled around his fingers. 

His pace after this was relentless, your face was smushed into the dirt again as his hands held you down, one on your ass one on your shoulder. 

“Take me, atta girl, take this cock~”  he grunted, hips bucking wildly as his seed released into your tight cunt. You weren’t far behind, cumming around his thick cock and gasping at the sensation. 

Arthur rolled onto his back beside you with a rough exhale, one forearm thrown over his eyes like he couldn't believe what had just happened.

“Christ alive.” he muttered hoarsely. 

The hand not covering his face found your hand instinctively. 

Arthur let out a quiet laugh under his breath. “You’re dangerous, sweetheart.” 

You turned your head toward him, smiling softly, “You’re the criminal here.” 

He huffed, running his hand from his face into his hair which was a mess now. 

“Best afternoon I've had in a long while.” He admitted quietly. Then after a beat, softer, “I need that again sometime.”