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johnny soap mactavish who’s the g o d of after care
- likes to hold you close immediately after
- as in, you’re not going anywhere for 5 minutes, just gotta sit here under his weight and let him kiss your neck soothingly
- just wants to make sure you feel loved and cared for after he’s been especially rough with you
- cause although it feels good for both of you to be hard and fast, he definitely wants to take some time making sure you’re okay when winding down
- johnny’s also super sensitive but doesn’t wanna pull out just yet
- would argue this is better than the sex itself sometimes because of how close he feels to you
- will try to make you laugh while still buried inside you. try not to laugh too hard though or everything will slip out
- super handsy, rubbing them all over your body as if he hasn’t just finished. likes to touch you all over, 1. you just feel good but also 2. it’s soothing to him
- if he stays like this too long though, he’ll just start fucking you again. so it’s one or the other every single time. its usually that
- when he does pull out, it takes some convincing to get him off of you entirely, johnny likes to watch it all leak out of you, admiring your pretty body still. fills him with some sort of pride to see his work and effect on you
- gets up to get a cloth or a towel, something to wipe yourself with. sometimes he does it for you, likes to wipe you down softly, coming to rest himself between your legs once again
- throughly enjoys overstimulating you
- he’ll kiss up and down your soft thighs, over your slit, telling you what a good girl you’ve been for him
- his tongue collecting whatever the cloth missed, you’ll be squirming below him, trying to get away from him (fat chance) johnny just holds you down, making you take all the overstimulation until you’re all cleaned up
- forces his way through your legs and back up to your face where he brings his lips down to yours, kissing you and letting you taste yourself on your tongue
- 9/10 you two go again anyway
- he’s insatiable
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Stalker John Price thot🩵🌼
Stalker John Price who firsts sees you in the library, cute little sundress rising up your thighs as your strain to reach for pride and prejudice on a shelf that’s much too high for you to even try to reach.
Stalker John price who goes behind the shelf and pushes the book out from out from the other side, you thankfully catch it before it falls on your head.
Stalker John Price who uses his military experience to stalk you and not get caught.
Stalker John Price who examines your house while you’re at work to find the perfect hiding spots for him and placing the tiniest cameras around.
Stalker John Price who knows how wrong it is when he’s quick to dart into one of those hiding spaces as you open the door sighing from a long day at work but can’t seem to find a reason to care when you start to strip off your work clothes and change into your fuzzy stitch pj bottoms and hoodie.
Stalker John Price who thinks you look so fucking cute in your pjs. He leans forward almost making the house creak wanting to see more of you. He moves when you do, watching with a grin on his face as you cook your dinner while shaking your hips to music that’s blaring through your speaker.
Stalker John Price who smiles softly when you stuff your face full of pasta, your eyes never leaving the tv screen and soon end up falling asleep on your sofa. He feels it’s safe enough for him to come out.
Stalker John Price who presses a sweet little kiss to your cheek and then leaves your house to go home and set up all the cameras on his computer. He smiles seeing you clear as day on the screen in the same position as before, fast asleep on the sofa.
Stalker John Price who knows exactly how you like your morning coffee. He’s watched you make it 1000 times.
Stalker John Price who notes down in his notebook what your favourite foods and drinks are so he doesn’t forget.
Stalker John Price who confides in Simon about what’s he’s doing only for Simon to assure him he’s doing nothing wrong and it’s all normal even if he feels it’s wrong.
Stalker John Price who goes round your house more often after speaking to Simon.
Stalker John Price who gets painfully hard when you’re first out the shower, fluffy white towel wrapped around your wet body. His blue eyes never leaving your figure as you massage lotion into your skin and spray body mist all over. He inhales holding back from groaning at the scent that clings to you.
Stalker John price who watches you through the crack in your wardrobe doors as you pant and whine and buck your hips against the vibrator buzzing hastily against your little clit.
Stalker John Price who is practically drooling when he thinks you’re done, satisfied but watches you reach for the dildo in your bedside drawer. He was in for a long night of restraint.
Stalker John price who comes up with a plan to be a part of your life because he can’t keep going on without having you for himself. Without keeping you.
Stalker John Price who ‘bumps’ into at your local grocery store and the library and your local bar. Eventual you think it’s fate. Never suspecting he would be a stalker. He’s such a nice, sweet guy.
Stalker John Price who is giddy with excitement when you agree to go on a date with him. He makes it the best damn date you’d ever been on. Dinner, dancing and a show.
Stalker John Price who groans, “Fill my hands with you finally.” When you do eventually let him touch you, his large calloused hands grabbing at every part of you he can. “Finally gonna let me take care of you huh love?” He’ll grin down at you as you nod, so whiny and needy for him. “So fucking perfect and all mine.”
Stalker John Price who marries you.
Stalker John Price who cries when you show him the positive pregnancy test.
Stalker John Price who laughs loudly when your children say that daddy is obsessed with their mommy.
Stalker John Price who after thirty years of marriage, three children and 5 grandchildren never admits that he stalked you but tells you everyday how much he loves you.
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fanfiction isn’t enough, I need to chew on him
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Arthur Morgan Modern Headcannons pt2
Okokok
PART ONE HERE KINDA IMPORTANT TO READ FIRST
Everyone loved the modern headcannons and wanted to have some modern wedding headcannons
As well as some more arthur on the bike wink wonk
So
we’re gonna combine the two, and start with the wedding and work in some of the bike!
Oh and @photo1030 suggested Arthur on a more vintage looking Indian Motorcycle rather than a Harley, so I’ll leave an image of both and write for both!
A LITTLE NSFW SO 18+ ONLY
Keep reading
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land lord könig would deffff get so many secret cameras to watch tenants in every room
Oh, for sure. He's always watching. Watching your every move. 📷
He installs a camera inside of your bedroom, bathroom, and living room, constantly eyeing you up without your knowledge or consent, getting himself off to the most grim and perverted images he captures of you unknowingly. He despises the men you bring home from your night outs and parties, the way you taunt them with your pretty lace underwear and put them in scenarios that König could only dream of. He thinks of you 24/7, beyond desperate to feel your hold around his growing, bulbous shaft.
The thought of having you on your back and gazing up at him, pleading with him to not evict you while he gently pushes inside is something König fantasises about almost daily. He occasionally increases your rent, watching you fumble over your words as you plead with him for an extra couple of days to gather the money. And you quickly realise exactly what he wants from you when he intrudes into your apartment, eyeing you up like a wolf admiring its prey. You want to stay here, right? Offer him something, Mäuschen... Excite him.
He'll bend you over any surface nearby and rut into you for what feels like forever while you whimper and moan out at the agonising ache and concerning stretch between your legs, sending you through disgust and nausea at the splitting sensation of him prodding against your cervix, stimulating you with the head of his weeping, swollen boner.
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when the older man is the one with daddy issues so he's nurturing and careful and indulgent, but he's also so teasing when he's taking you apart. how he draws out the pleasure until you're crying, splintering at the edges, your words coming out in weak babbles. until you're pawing at him, begging for anything - your orgasm, a kiss, him to engulf you in his warm embrace.
but also thinking about how he loves to feed you; cooking up healthy and delicious meals, while you're over there in the living room busying yourself because last time you helped him, the two of you got distracted and forgot that there were potatoes in the oven.
or how he just loves buying you clothes; from shirts and sweaters to pants and skirts, to toques and scarves, down to the things you didn't even know you needed like an extra pair of gloves or stockings cuz you've torn the other one, remember?
and how he starts looking for a bigger house, somewhere with a bigger lot and a wider garage, and more rooms cuz you mentioned that you wanted your own office; that your back is starting to hurt from working in the dining room, with those old but lovingly worn out seats. and this one that he found has a bigger kitchen, with an island and tall, tall windows, and a place for a chandelier.
yeah, he's already imagining cooking for you here while you watch him from the island. this way, you're closer to him; easier for him to reach for a kiss.
and just also thinking about how he always picks you up from work; he's never late and sometimes, he'd even be too early. it's not even like he works odd hours because he should be finishing up at the same time that you do, but he rather bring his work to home - wrap up while you're already in bed, snoozing, not knowing that he crawled back out of it after he's cuddled you to sleep - than not pick you up at all. he loves the drive, anyway, and he's a senior at his position so he's got room for flexibility.
it's just, he is so greedy of every chance he can get to be with you. to be of service for you.
thinking about all of this knowing this is so john price :(
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~A Night of Firsts~
Characters:
Arthur Fleck: A socially awkward, shy man who has been quietly crushing on you for a while. He’s nervous but hopeful about making a good impression on this first date.
Reader (You): The woman Arthur has admired from afar. You’ve noticed his kindness and vulnerability, and now, you’re curious to get to know him better.
Trigger Warnings:
None.
Words: 1016
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Arthur’s hands trembled slightly as he straightened his tie in the dingy bathroom mirror. His reflection stared back at him—nervous eyes, pale skin, and that ever-present tension in his jaw. It wasn’t like this was his first time asking someone out, but it was the first time in a long while that someone had said yes. And not just anyone—you had said yes.
He had admired you from a distance for weeks, watching you on the bus or in the grocery store, always too shy to do more than offer a small, nervous smile. But you were different. You always smiled back, sometimes even said hello, and that simple gesture made his heart flutter.
Tonight, though, was the real test.
“Come on, Arthur,” he muttered to himself, trying to calm his racing heart. “You can do this. You just have to be yourself. Don’t mess this up.”
After a final glance in the mirror, he grabbed his worn jacket and headed out the door, rehearsing in his mind everything he wanted to say, trying to ignore the creeping doubt that whispered he wasn’t good enough.
You were sitting in the small, cozy diner where Arthur had suggested meeting. It wasn’t fancy or extravagant, but it had a warmth to it that felt comforting, much like Arthur himself. You had always noticed something special about him—a quiet kindness that drew you in, even though he kept to himself most of the time.
The bell above the door jingled, and you looked up to see him enter. He was a little disheveled, but he had made an effort—you could tell by the way he had combed his hair and carefully chosen his clothes. When he spotted you, his eyes lit up, though his posture was still tense, like he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands.
You gave him a warm smile, and his nervousness seemed to melt, if only slightly. “Hi, Arthur,” you greeted softly as he made his way over.
“H-hi,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper as he sat across from you. He fidgeted with his hands, glancing down for a moment before finally meeting your eyes. “You… you look really nice.”
“Thank you,” you replied, your smile widening. “You look good too.”
His face flushed, and he let out a small, awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wasn’t sure what to wear… I didn’t want to overdress.”
“You’re perfect,” you reassured him, and you could see a hint of relief in his eyes.
The two of you settled into a somewhat awkward but endearing conversation. Arthur’s words were soft and hesitant at first, but the more you talked, the more he began to relax. You asked him about his day, about his work, and he opened up about his job as a clown for hire, explaining how he tried to bring joy to people, even if he often felt misunderstood.
“I guess I just… I want to make people smile,” he said, his voice tinged with both hope and sadness. “But sometimes it feels like… like no one notices.”
You listened intently, your heart aching for him. There was something so raw and vulnerable about Arthur, something that made you want to protect him from the harshness of the world.
“I notice, Arthur,” you said gently. “And I think you’re doing something really special. It takes a lot of courage to try to make people happy.”
He looked at you, his eyes wide with surprise, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You really think so?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded. “Absolutely.”
A soft, genuine smile spread across his face, and for the first time that night, he looked truly at ease.
As the evening went on, you could feel a shift between the two of you. The awkwardness faded, replaced by a comfortable warmth. Arthur’s shyness was still there, but now it was tinged with something else—something lighter, more hopeful.
After dinner, the two of you decided to take a walk through the city. The streets were quiet, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you strolled side by side. Arthur walked a little closer to you than he had earlier, though he still seemed unsure of himself, as if he didn’t want to make any sudden moves.
But when your hand brushed against his, he didn’t pull away.
Instead, he hesitated for a moment, glancing at you with wide eyes before carefully taking your hand in his. His fingers were warm and slightly rough, and when you smiled at him, he returned it with a shy, almost disbelieving grin.
For the first time, he didn’t feel like he had to hide behind a mask. You saw him—the real him—and you didn’t turn away.
As you reached the end of the street, you paused in front of a small park, the dim streetlights casting a soft glow on the trees. You both stopped, standing in the quiet, taking in the peaceful moment.
Arthur turned to face you, his eyes searching yours with a kind of cautious hope. “This… this was really nice,” he said, his voice low and a little shaky. “I… I didn’t think anyone would ever want to go out with me.”
You squeezed his hand gently, stepping a little closer. “I wanted to,” you said softly. “I’ve wanted to for a while.”
He blinked, clearly stunned by your words, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. But then, something shifted in his expression—a flicker of confidence, however small.
“I… I really like you,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.
Your heart swelled at the vulnerability in his words, and without thinking, you leaned in, pressing a soft, tender kiss to his cheek.
Arthur’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he stood completely still, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. But then, slowly, a soft, genuine smile spread across his face—a smile that was just for you.
“I really like you too,” you whispered back.
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Author’s Note: Thank you for reading this sweet and heartfelt first date between Arthur and his crush. I hope you enjoyed seeing a softer side of Arthur and watching him open up. If you have any feedback or suggestions, feel free to share!
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“fuckin’ look at me.”
the growl of words bounces in your mushy skull, watery eyes blinking till pretty crystal tears drip down the apples of your cheeks.
you’re lost, fluttering eyes fighting the fog, the way he reaches into your guts. it has you struggling and gasping.
yet, when simon’s fingers curl tight round your jaw, thick digits pressing dimples into the fat of your cheeks, you finally start to snap into reality.
“yeah, baby,” he laughs down into your face, teeth glistening in the soft bedside lamp. “i’m here, i’m here.”
and it’s not a sweet coo, it’s a harsh taunting, a mere joke to him to watch your eyes cross, and roll.
“t-too much, si, n-no” and it’s a broken, desperate cry, hands violently pawing at the backs of his thighs when he shoves himself meters into you.
you can feel every ridge, every vein, the way the tip of his pretty cock lays sweet frenchies against your cervix. and he stills, letting you really accommodate to the mere length, the width of him.
“let me see your pretty eyes, baby,” he huffs, breath heavy against your face in a way that does nothing but suffocate you. “you tired? you done?”
and your silence speaks for you, eyes bouncing back and forth from pupil to pupil. you can’t focus, the tips of your toes digging deep into his calves almost angrily.
it feels too good, in a way that has you squirming up like you’re under some spell.
“that’s what i thought,” he coughs up in a laugh, taking you by the lips aggressively. he lets his tongue open you up, and he explores your mouth carefully, hips pulling back as he readies himself. “now just be pretty for me and take it, yeah, hun?”
ion even know, this is so fucked 🤦♀️ send mama requests.
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Ghost: How do I make a date really romantic Price: Be mysterious Ghost: Right *later* Y/N: Where are we going Ghost: None of your fucking business
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Toxic!Gym-Bro!König is the type to excuse his creepy and misogynistic behaviour because you're wearing skin-tight shorts and a sports bra at the gym. :(
Oh, you don't like how close he's getting to you, the way his eyes linger on your figure, fixated on your movements? Well, you shouldn't have worn such a tiny outfit. You can't blame him, it's a natural instinct for men! How can he not "admire" the sight of you like this? It's uplifting, right? To see someone admire you?
And of course, he'll follow you while you do your workouts, offering to spot you while just to stand above you like this, his hefty crotch a couple of inches away from your face and his glare perverted and deranged, your gut-feeling telling you to leave. You feel his calloused, clammy hands wander and roam your body, rough fingertips spreading over the surface of your skin.
And what a coincidence it is that he finishes off his workout at the same time as you, that you're parked so close together, and he seemingly lives in the same direction as you, his car never leaving your sight!
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OCTOBER 31ST — CREEP!KÖNIG. Halloween parties are only fun when everyone's drunk and tipsy, too inebriated to think clearly. Nobody bats an eye when König stumbles into a frat party wearing a mask, dragging an intoxicated woman off alongside him. (NON-CON)
Note: Happy Halloween! 🎃🦇
Photo credits xbruised_peachx on X/🐦
TW/CW: RAPE/INTOXICATION. MDNI 18+
2024 KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. (DAY 31)
Halloween is the one night a year you get to wear practically nothing, get ridiculously drunk, and get away with it. You know you'll find yourself hanging over the edge of a bucket, spewing your guts out in the middle of the night, full of nausea from drinking too much.
However, things are slightly more sinister and taboo for König, who takes advantage of this day in the most wicked way you could think of. This is the one night a year he can wear a mask without question, hiding his identity from those around him. The only night that you don't suspect a real monster to be lingering around. And König has his perverted, predatory gaze on you. A thirty-something year old man stumbling into a frat party, his eyes preying on an inebriated slut wearing nothing but a pair of animal years and a tiny, skimpy skirt, doing nothing to spare you some dignity.
No one would bat an eye at two dressed up strangers pulling each other into the bathroom, practically tugging at each other's clothes in front of everyone. And you're too tipsy to fight back or think clearly, not defending yourself as his calloused hands spread your thighs apart before you can even fully open your eyes again, the smell of booze pungent in the air and burning your nostrils. Disgust overwhelms you, but his reassuring voice is almost claiming, sickeningly sweet as your body reacts to his wet tongue against your hole, your gut feeling warning you to protect yourself before he overpowers you. The door is locked shut, and your back is pressed against the bathroom wall before you're forced over a counter, your vision blurring with your tears and unconsciousness.
“Verdammt, du weißt, was du tust. Du trägst so einen kleinen Rock. Du hast darum gebeten.” A gravelly voice announces from behind you with each sloppy thrust, spoken through gritted teeth and behind a deep and hoarse grumble. You don't see his face, concealed by a dark veil, with two holes for his eyes. You weep through the agony of the stretch, your eyes barely making out the crimson coating your bare skin, dripping from you like a leaking faucet. Your eyes quickly form tears, becoming bleary, your once perfect Halloween makeup now ruined and smudged, the colour of your lipstick staining the girth of his cock.
You're awoken several times, different positions, different horrifying acts being inflicted onto you. He holds a sharpened knife to your nape, whether it's a prop for his costume or not, you're not sure, but you're not willing to test him. You lay there, gagging at his actions and the deep thrusts meeting your rear, the prickliness of his pubes scratching your thighs and the agonising, concerning stretch that feels disgustingly unfamiliar. Your pussy sobs around him; drooling, leaking. Your head throbs, and your throat aches and burns, his seed spurted deep within you earning him a mortified cry.
Oh, you'll regret wearing such a skimpy outfit, won't you? Especially when you're hunched over, panting and coughing up last night's drinks, your entire body aching and his greedy touch staining your skin.
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Silly Halloween comic 🎃 (pretend I posted this on time)
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