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#doubting our own reactions
furiousgoldfish · 3 days
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A common struggle of cptsd is having what we think are 'exaggerated reactions', or 'overreactions' to things; we believe that we should be able to stay calm, collected, peaceful, pleasant and well behaved in any situations. Our common responses of intense anxiety, anger, panic, shock, pain and grief, at situations that other people are able to respond to with minimal emotion, are a source of shame for us. We feel like we don't have it under control enough, we feel like a failure for not being able to stay collected, for having these big embarassing spill of emotions that sometimes stop us from functioning completely.
It feels like it's us who is wrong, if other people are able to have 'rational' and 'appropriate' responses to things, and we don't, it has to be an 'us' problem.
But then we sometimes see people reacting in an unsual or intense way to various things, and we think nothing of it, right? If someone responds with intense laughter or tears or panic at something that might not seem that big of a deal, we don't immediately think it's innapropriate or shameful. We consider that everyone is different, and reacts to things differently. And maybe that person had something happen to them that would cause a reaction like this, maybe they have a specific reason for how they react. And in most cases, we find it normal to accept their reaction and comfort them if necessary.
Sometimes we'll even rationalize or tolerate actually harmful reactions, like people reacting with rage or violence to issues that don't require that kind of response. We take their aggression as just a great intensity of wanting something to go their way, and we dare not criticize or shame it, we understand in that case, that people can't help wanting something, and that it's natural for them to fight for it.
So why is it so shameful and mortifying for us to have reactions of panic and pain, which essentially, are not harming anyone? Because we've been shamed for reacting in any way that inconveniences anyone, and we're used to comparing ourselves to what we believe are 'normal' people, and judging ourselves harshly if we come out short.
I don't think I've felt ashamed or mortified for any reaction I had to anything, until I was getting shamed and punished for it. People in general, don't question their reaction because they have no reason to, they trust their own judgment and their own emotions, if they naturally react badly to something, it's a bad thing, and thats that. But we are often punished and made to question our own reactions, often to cover up the abuse we reacted to. We were made to develop a deep sense of shame for having a bad reaction to abuse, so that another person might abuse us all they wanted, and we would only be able to look down, feel bad, and blame ourselves.
I want to argue that our reactions are appropriate and rational, considering what happened to us. Let's take a simple example: if a dog bites a person, and that person becomes infected, or very ill, or close to death as a consequence of it, this person will naturally become scared of dogs, right? And nobody will judge them or consider their bad reaction to dogs innapropriate. If something almost kills you, you will react badly do it. It's an appropriate reaction considering what had happened.
In that same way, if we suffered continual abuse, that constantly reminded us that we're worthless, incapable of anything, unable to live on our own, cannot be loved, cannot be redeemed, intrinsically evil, and this abuse brought on struggles with anxiety, depression, cptsd, suicidal feelings, it cost us years of our life that we spent in pain and shame, then yes, everything that reminds us of that abuse, everything that causes an emotional flashback or that same feeling of shame, will have an extreme reaction! It would be unnatural if it didn't.
And today's world is filled with disapproval, judgment, shaming, and even vitriol that is used to control others. Even gaslighting is starting to become common. Every dirty look, change of tone in someone's voice, burst of anger, pointing out our flaws, lashing out on us, showing less than perfect satisfaction, all of that is likely to be triggering to a person who's been trough abuse. We would not have been sensitive to it, if it hadn't almost killed us. Our reactions are appropriate, considering what had happened to us.
Even if the rest of the world is hell bent on judging you for having extreme reactions, you don't have to judge yourself. You know that your reactions are there because of what happened to you, because you need to be protected from this. You're not over-reacting, you're reacting in the only way anyone in your circumstances would. If people fail to see or understand the circumstance, that's their problem. You are not here to carry the shame of the world's ignorance.
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drchucktingle · 8 months
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Chuck, how do you deal with people who are rude about you and your work? I write queer romance and I want to put my writing out there for people to read, but I'm a very sensitive person and I know it will be hard not to take insults personally and let them affect me. I don't want to let that stop me from expressing myself and sharing my art, but I'm scared!
very good question buckaroo. i am a good example of this as pretty much EVERYONE was rude about my work for many years calling it 'so bad its good' (it is just good) and 'terrible photoshop' (i think it has a great and instantly recognizable style) and 'intentionally stupid premises' (i dont think there is anything stupid about sex being fun and whimsical and playful). even these days the reaction of the VAST majority of buckaroos who discover chuck have this reaction AT FIRST, and then learn to appreciate the tingleverse in a more sincere way over time.
all that is to say BEING DOUBTED HAS WORKED OUT VERY WELL FOR ME. art that changes meaning over time can be very powerful, so if someones initial reaction to my trot is one thing and then it evolves into another thing, well that is just good art. while it can feel bad to get a bad review, i would say a bad review just means you have entered a realm of tension and change and discord and WE ARE TALKIN ABOUT ART BUD so that, in itself, is very exciting.
i think of what i do as 'punk writing', and a big part of that means pushing against preconceived sensibilities. not many other authors will proudly say 'there SHOULD be some spelling errors in my erotic shorts because i wrote it in a day and edited it once. that is the FEELING i want to create', but that is my way. by creating what is in my soul i KNOW i am going to bother some buckaroos and that is okay.
now i am NOT assuming you are also doing punk writing (that is okay of course we all have our own styles. what i am doing with tinglers is pretty rare), but it still stands to remember that there are 7.8 billion people on the planet of this dang timeline and some of them are bound to be bothered by your creations. that is not a problem, that is just part of baring your authentic self.
the other thing to remember is theres no REAL right or wrong in art. it can be analyzed in different ways and i tend to look at it in a way of comparing intention to result, but even THAT is not strictly correct. therefore any bad review of something you make is not actually BAD it is just someones information and feedback for you to take or leave. a one star review is just another opinion, it is no more right or wrong than your own opinion, and that is wonderful. it is freeing.
if i see a bad review of my own book, lets just say CAMP DAMASCUS for instance, i do not get upset because i know this: that reviewer is not wrong. camp damascus is five stars for me, but it is one star for someone else AND THAT IS OK. THAT IS THE WAY IT SHOULD BE. THAT IS GREAT ART. also MAYBE THEY KNOW BETTER THAN I DO. just because i wrote the book does not mean i am the authority on it, and the conversation and tension between those that enjoy something and those that despise it is a creative act. the audience engaging with your work is just your art emerging from its cocoon and saying 'here i am. lets see where i flutter off to now'
do not fear the river of this timeline sweeping away your creations and carrying them where it will. this is inevitable, but it is also beautiful and freeing. you cannot swim against it and that is okay bud, because YOU HAVE ALREADY WON. you have already created something and given a piece of yourself back to this timeline and that is a great honor and privilege. it is literally all there is
by creating ANYTHING you are proving love is real, and that is something to be proud of
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uno-san · 1 month
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Bill Cipher Vs. Self-Hatred
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Howdy y'all! Today I just wanted to go over some thoughts I had over everybody's favorite triangle that may or may not have occurred to some of you already. Naturally this will contain Book of Bill Spoilers.
To start off our little essay I thought it would be important to first sum up my thoughts on one of Bill's more complicated relationships: Stanford
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Now we've all seen his dynamic with Stanford plenty of times in the show but with recent information coming from both the Book of Bill and thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com more light has been shed on the subject from both Bill's perspective and Ford's.
There's more than meets the eye when it comes to dissecting Bill's interactions and thoughts on Stanford, with the ever enlightening "EVEN HIS LIES ARE LIES" making theorists scratch their heads. Within the Book of Bill are these codes and their meanings: hbh grfwru ri d gliihuhqw nlqg/ zkr zdqw wr pdnh klv sdwlhqw eolqg
eye doctor of a different kind/ who wants to make his patient blind
Qeb alzqlo pxvp/ qeobb pfmp x axv/ tfii jxhb qeb sfpflkp/ dl xtxv
The doctor says/ three sips a day/ will make the visions/ go away
Ixvvb hdwhu/ edeb eloob/ zrxogq'w gulqn/ xqohvv lwv vloob
Fussy eater/ baby billy/ wouldn't drink/ unless its silly
As well as:
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Finding out that both Stanford and Bill have a genetic mutation that made them Black Sheep suggests the possibility that Bill saw a kinship within Stanford. After all, he did make the offer for Stanford to join him. No doubt being able to sympathize with Stanford's situation yet misreading his motivations, causing the rift in their once savable relationship once Bill's lies were uncovered.
Now I'll admit it was others who came up with this theory in particular, especially when drawing comparisons of how Stanford was treated and how Bill allegedly was for having a strange eye. Stanford, in some form of other, might represent how Bill was before he saw the destruction of his world by his hands. A mere outcast looking for his place in the world. To be believed rather than ridiculed or "fixed".
Self-Hatred
And now we get to the Bill we all know today:
The chaos loving and nightmare inducing three-sided maniac, who may be hiding more insecurities than he ever let on in the show, thanks to the Theraprism.
Someone far more traumatized
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Who's had to convince himself to fully be the bastard he is today
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But if the theory that Bill had a type of kinship with Stanford thanks to their mutations was true, then wouldn't it be possible that his relationship with someone else might represent the inner struggle with himself?
For you see, the original title of this post was...
Bill Cipher Vs. Stanley Pines
As my own theory is that Stanley Pines is what Bill decided to project his self-hatred on. Nobody can doubt that the two have similar qualities, yet as I read the Book of Bill and thisisnotawebsitedotcom I couldn't help but notice the absolute malice that Bill has for Stanley whenever he's mentioned.
There have been many opponents before that have strived to take Bill down. Whether that was the Shaman, the Anti-Cipher Society, or Time Baby, none of his interactions with them have appeared as vitriol as compared to Stanley.
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Not even Stanford has this same reaction, who, by really no contest, was the closest to ever defeating Cipher by himself. Both with the gun that he near successfully killed Bill with and the secret of the barrier of Gravity Falls he refused to give up. Bill didn't even have a real interaction with Stanley until the last episode.
Yet it isn't Stanford that causes Bill to break while he's in the Theraprism. It's Stanley.
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"-A resume-inflating, cheap trick loving, past-denying overgrown child protected from failure only by a force field of DENIAL AND shamelessness!"
"Self-pitying"
"Stupid"
"Smug"
"Hack Jokes"
"UNWORTHY"
Now it could be just me, but those are a lot of specific insults to fling somebody's way that you've barely interacted with. Especially if Bill credits the Twin Swap to Stanford entirely as opposed to allowing Stanley the credit.
"STEP RIGHT UP, it's time to play my FAVORITE GAME!! BOOTLEG SIXER over HERE spent a LIFETIME trying to hide his humiliations, BUT I'VE BEEN INSIDE HIS MIND, so NOW they’re ALL YOURS for the low low price of BEING MY NEW PAL! ITS SHOWTIME FOLKS, AND THE ONLY WAY TO LOSE IS TO BE NAMED STANLEY PINES!"
“SHAME:TM - IT'S THE ONE FRIEND WHO NEVER LEAVES!”
This out-of-character hatred doesn't come from the fact that Bill thought Stanley wasn't worthy, it comes from the fact that Bill sees himself in Stan. Who by all means is a lying and conniving screw up. Somebody who let his family down.
This could possibly be proven by the poem Bill had wrote about Stanley:
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The whole poem suits my point but I decided to highlight the sections that caught my eye specifically. That when you put into consideration Bill's clear trauma and regret about the Euclidian Massacre, his own words can clearly be flipped back on him.
That he sees himself as a curse and a mistake. A self-made monster. Someone who's left the past behind when the loss of his home is still on his mind.
And what truly gets under Bill's skin about Stanley Pines?
"He got his life and family back.
His big break, it finally came,
Redemption from a life of shame"
Stanley got back what Bill can't.
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queenariesofnarnia · 7 months
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never underestimate the bunny
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gif not mine!
wc: 642ish
Alastor x f!bunny!reader
warnings: tiny amount of violence, some verbal harassment( not from alastor), a wee bit of blood, and a mildly suggestive ending
🦌❤️ You were a sweetheart no doubt about it and none of your friend s doing out what landed you in hell. Especially as a bunny demon, everyone believed they had to protect you. Until one day you and Angel were out shopping.
“Toots you should get the red dress! it made ya smile sparkle” Angel told you as you tried on a new article of clothing. “Only if you get the matching black skirt with me!” you tell him laughing and he joins in. As you finished up shopping and began to stroll back to the hotel a group of sinners started pestering you. “Come here little bunny” one creep said “I bet you’d make a pretty little fuck toy” another yelled out. You grip your bags continuing on your way. Angel ignoring the thirst thrown his way since he was used to it. Until another one of them yelled at you. “Don’t be a bitch and let us breed you little bunny” the third one yelled. Huffing you place your bags in Angel’s hands. Your ear twitching in annoyance. “Angel be a doll and just head back. I’ll catch up” you instruct your friend. He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind but you gave him a nod of reassurance. You turn around facing the men before pulling a gun out your small purse shooting each man in their dick before pouncing on them ripping into them. Once you were through you placed your gun back in your purse turning away from the bodies to make your way back to the hotel. Angel witnessed it all, once you pulled your gun out he didn’t want to miss a chance to see you fight. “You got some blood on you toots” he gestures to your dress that was now stained. You shrug and laugh it off together. Making jokes about it until you walk through the doors. You receive a normal greeting from everyone until charlie screams. “You’re covered in blood!” she’s pointing at your dress. you just nod at her reaction. “Are you hurt?” Vaggie asked looking you over. “It’s not my blood” you tell them calmly. “Ya should’ve seen it.Cottontail here knows how to hold her own” Angel praises setting the bags by the couch before heading to the bar to bother Husk. He begins telling Husk the story as you head upstairs, you notice a shadow following you and don’t mind it until you get to your room. “You can come in but no telling Alastor if you see more than you should” you joke with the shadow. “Don’t tell me what cher?” the beautiful static voice reaches your ears as he appears in your room. “Well Alastor I was telling your shadows they may not inform you if they see more of me than they should.” you tell him with a smile. “Now my dear bunny, what is the fun in that hmmm?” he asks you stepping closer taking your appearance in. “Might I say you look like quite the dish covered in blood” he compliments his smile not leaving his face. “They probably would’ve tasted awful” you tell him jokingly. it made him genuinely laugh, it’s a rare sound you had the pleasure of hearing. “I’m sure you’re absolutely right my dear. I overheard our lovely spider friend telling dear ol’ Husker how you handled the scum who accosted you.” he steps closer to you caging you in between the dresser and his body. you are place your hands on his chest smiling up at him. “Your’e looking at me like I’m your next meal darling” your voice soft, the term of endearment slipping past your lips with ease. “With the way you look cher. You might be” he places a light kiss on your shoulder before giving you space. “Just say the word”
a/n: here’s pt 2 that no one asked for but i felt like doing :)
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grugruel · 9 months
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Saint, or Sinner.
Parings: Arthur Morgan x f!reader
MDNI/NSFW
Masterlist
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Summary: You've had feelings for Arthur for quite some time now, but little did you know. That he has them for you, too.
After a rowdy night in Valentine, the group flees lawmen and end up in Strawberrys hotel. Whatever will occur?
Word count: 8.9 k
Warnings: Micha being Micah, bar fight/violence, plot with smut, mutual pining, soft Arthur, pinv sex, passionate sex, oral sex (f recieving), praise, pet names (girl, sweetheart), choking, fingering, handjob, creampie, mentioned masturbation.
AN: The words ran away from me, holy shit. It's so much longer than I intended.
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Muffled voices argued in the night, soon growing into angry shouts. Rousing me from my sleep, confused, I put my gown on in a hurry. Sleep ridden eyes in a dark tent were not doing me any favors. I pulled the flap to the side and stumbled out of the tent, the voices creating one hell of a commotion.
Just as I did, most of the camp had awoken and joined in on the argument, gladly contributing their own heated opinions on the matter. All except Duch and Arthur, much to my dismay.
My eyes adjusted to the scene before me, the assailants quickly becoming clear. Standing around the campfire, was Micah of course, the center of attention as usual. Stood half shouting at John, who's pot seemed to be boiling over.
Soon after, John unleashed a rant on Micahs stupitidy, throwing in every word he could manage in his steaming anger.
I rolled my eyes, what could that damned fool possibly have done now?
'You piss ridden, moldy rat bastard.' John shouts, seamingly leaving Micah lost for words.
Bill bursts out laughing, slapping his knee at the insult, 'You big fuckin nuthead Micah. . .' He sighs, catching his breath.
Even Hosea snickers, 'Hes right, and that's coming from Bill of all folk.'
I cover my mouth as a giggle leaves my lips, seeing Micah so dumbfounded really sobered my mood. The rest of the girls have a simular reaction.
Micahs eyes narrow on me, 'What are ya' laughing at sweetheart. I ought to teach ya' a lesson.' He snarls, greasy hair hanging over his face.
The camp falls silent, none too appreciative of his choice of words. My mood turn sour again and a chill runs up my spine. The first to call him out was Sadie, 'Someone hold me back.' She spits, Sean stepping in to fo judt that.
Second was Miss Grimshaw, 'The money and now you threathen the girl, have you gone and lost your mind Micah Bell?' disgust evident on her face.
The money? What money?
John took a threatening step toward him, very displeased with Micahs comment, hands forming into fists at his sides. Hosea too, gave him a a bemused look.
'Try anything Bell, and I'll cut your fucking balls off.' I spit, glaring at him, feeling incredible joy in the way his face falls.
Muffled chuckles surround me, 'Thats my Girl.' Sadie laughs, along with a low, approving whistle from Javier.
'Whats goin' on here?' A gruff voice cuts in, looking between me and Micah.
Arthur, flanked by Dutch.
Arthur, shirtless. Flanked by Dutch.
In all my anger, my eyes cant help but sneak a hasty glance at his broad chest. Then quickly averting it, afraid he'd notice. I clear my throat, trying to keep my thoughts in check, 'He threatened me.'
That was enough for Arthur, not doubting me for a second. Fixed himself straight up with murder in his eyes, then walked at the man, readying his fists for a beating.
Butterflies fluttered within me.
Unsurprisingly, Micah cowered. Taking quick cautionary steps backward before Dutch could jump in, throwing his arm in front of Arthur and stopping him in his tracks. John looks at the two men, directing an accusing finger on Micah, 'Not only that, this blasted idiot took our money.'
The moment of joy from Micahs humiliation disappear, turning into anger once again. The camp giving him a mutual glower.
Arthur runs a hand through his hair, 'I ought to kill you.' He speaks, gritting his teeth, and takes another firm step forward. Pushing the limits of Dutch's patience, who strengthens the hold on Arthur.
'Surely, there must be a reasonable explanation for this?' Dutchs says, forcing a smile and shooting Micah an expectant look. Giving him an undeserved chance at explaining himself. Although he didn't show it, he too, was bemused.
'Well- I wanted to invest it, make it grow. I just wanted to help the camp.' Micah preached, his voice sleazy and confident. Telling the sure as shit, bull of an excuse as if he was the one to feel sorry for. Despite the circumstances.
Sighing, 'He god damned gamled it all away.' John reveals, looking ready to kill the man himself. The camp erupts into a loud argument once again, everyone getting a piece in.
I sneak a glance at Arthur, his chest rising and falling in big breaths, trying his hardest to stay calm. 'Bastard.' He mutters under his breath, Dutch giving him a quick warning glance.
'Shut!–' a hoarse voice calls out, '–Up!' Dutch yells, and obediently, we all fall silent. 'Theres no use, standin' around screamin'. You fools are attracting unwanted attention.' Dutch says, hands on his hips, 'Who won the funds.'
'Some rich bastard up in Strawberry.' Micahs sly voice cut through the night.
Dutch rubs his forehead in thought, 'Then he can do without it, go back there and grab it.' An exasperated sigh leaving him, 'Arthur, John, Bill, Charles.' He rounds the men up, 'You go there with him.' He turns to go back to his tent, but pauses and shouts, 'And no!–' dragging the words out, '–Deaths!' He looks at Micah, knowing damn well he'd otherwise murder the mans entire family in cold blood, then points to Arthur, 'That means you too, Arthur.' He says, a tired tone to his words. Clearly insinuating that he wanted Micah alive.
Everyone scatters, going back to bed on edge. But I linger, tucked away behind the tentflap. I watch Arthur come back out of his tent, in full get up. Silently praying that'd they'd be alright, that he would be. I did not care what happened to Micah, I hoped the man would get shot right between the eyes. I would personally love to see to it, I hoped Arthurs hatred for the man would get the better of him. Dutch always went way to easy on Micah, I didn't understand it, but something wasn't quite right with it.
Abigail kisses John goodbye, it made me happy to see them back together and all made up. I watch Arthur leave his tent in full get up, then stride past my tent. He gets on his horse with the rest of them, and ride past the treeline of Horseshoe overlook. No doubt berating Micah all the way to Strawberry.
I laid down in my bed, trying my damndest to sleep. But worry was keeping me up, eating away at me. Something didn't feel right.
He'd heard his words to her, him threatening her. Horrifying images cloud his mind, filling him with rage all over again. No doubt things he'd done before. He glanced a glare at the man, ugly mut.
Had Dutch not been there to stop him, Micah would've found his face beaten bloody and Arthur grinning on top of him. Had he not been loyal to the camp, to his people, to Dutch. Micah wouldn't be returning from this trip. He would conveniently get a bullet to his head, or found on the bottom of a valley, beaten unrecognizable before the fall had caused the killing blow.
He didnt want any harm coming to her. He'd never felt this for a woman, not ever. He'd steal glances, admire her when she wasn't looking. Damn well kill for her. She was the light he had needed for so long, her charming smile could shine brighter than any star he'd ever seen.
'You taken a likin' to her, Morgan?'
John raised his head at that, paying closer attention to the conversation, to Arthur. Knowing the possibility of him flying off the handle.
'Shut up if you know what's good for you Micah.' Charles scolded.
He scoffed, 'The day I listen to–' Micha looks Charles up and down, lingering on the color of his skin, 'The likes of you,' he continues, 'Will be my last.' Muttering the last words.
Ignoring him, Charles didn't do as much as raise an eyebrow. Micah did not deserve a reaction.
Micah was black rot, down to his core. Destorying everything he touched. We all knew it, but all aren't so keen to admit it. Dutch was the first person to come to mind, I couldn't understand for the life of me why he was so defensive of the man.
'I can see why.' Micah spoke again, 'Pretty little thing, isn't she?' He looked at Arthur, 'Got a big mouth on her too.'
John looked between the two men, noting the way Arthur fisted his reins, no doubt knuckles turning white under his gloves. Along with the way he kept his head straight ahead, focused on not killing the man, 'Micah, keep her off your tongue.' John warned, 'I don't care for you, but I don't want the heat from Dutch when you're found dead.' His raspy voice referring to him and Arthur.
Charles looked at the men in silent agreement, he preferred staying out of camp conflicts. But she was a woman dear to the camp, touching her would bode ill for any man.
And ad usual, the big idiot doesn't listen, 'Wouldn't mind takin' her for a ride one of these nights.' He said, the self-righteous smile he bore evident even in his tone. There was no need to look at him to know it.
Bill had been staying out of it, but he could feel the anger radiating off of Arthur. Enough to switch sides, hanging back, then stearing his horse up next to Arthur instead of Micah. Just in case a bullet would come flying.
And wouldn't you know it, Arthur reached into his holster and pulled his finest revolver, aiming it at the sorry excuse of a man. All in one quick motion, he'd been labeled as a dangerous for a reason. John sighed, now he'd done it.
Micah, dropped his reins. Raising his hands in the air, keeping a smug expression on his face. But beneath, he was scared witless.
'Strawberry up ahead.' Charles called, not caring much for the action behind him. Killing Micah would only do the camp good, but a gunshot would give their location away.
'Not another word of her.' Arthur began, 'Touch 'er–' He warns, 'And I'll let her kill ya'.' His voice gravelly and threatening, but Micah scoffed at the notion.
The familiar click off a safety lever sounds out, and the color drains from Micahs face.
'House is just up ahead.' Charles cut in, 'I'd suggest you wait wait with this til we got the funds.'
With a final glare, he holsters his gun and rides up to Charles. Clearing a hill, the house comes into view. Arthur sighs, 'Damn it Micah, you didnt tell us this feller had security.'
'You scared of a little fightin' pretty boy?' Micah mocked.
With a scoff from Arthur, they hitch their horses and pull up their bandanas, setting about proving the rumors of the infamouse Van Der Linde gang.
I anxiously checked my father's old pocket watch. It had been a few hours now. I put it down, tried to think of other things, and then picked it up again. Another 5 minutes had passed. Christ. I couldn't bear losing Arthur, John or Charles, god forbid all three of them. Bill could be sweet, but only when he needed something. I couldn't even dare imagine John leaving Abigail and Jack behind. What would they do? Stay with the gang, of course, but. . . Goodness, what about Arthur? My thoughts were racing ahead of me.
A few more minutes pass, then I hear hoofbeats, relief flods through me. It's hard to count, but theres at least three horses. God, let it be the right three. I emerge from my tent, along with Miss Grimshaw, Abigail, the rest of the girls, and Dutch. I race up to Abigail, holding eachothers hands as we watch the treeline in silence. Relying on each other for support.
Eventually, they break through. All five horses returning with their men on top of them, secretly I curse. One of the could've gotten lost and the world would've been a better place for it. I stroke Abigails back while John sees to his horse, then walks up to us, taking her in his arms and spinning her in a circle. They laugh, and a tinge of jealousy spark inside me. Yet I'm more than happy for them.
I observe the rest of them, they seem to be unharmed. All except. . . Arthur, his white shirt covered in blood. The terror must've been evident on my face, because–
'Hes fine.' John spoke, 'Most of it aint even his.' He said in an effort to calm me.
I nodded, smiling faintly 'Thank you John.' And sqeezed his arm.
'Well–' Dutch called out, 'How'd it go?' He looked at them, expecting nothing but grandeur.
'We got more than we bargained for. . ' John said, grinning. But there was something else his tone.
Bill unloaded his horse and came carrying several saddlebags, throwing them at our feet, money spilling out 'We got what we came for—' He paused, then pulled out two more bags from vehind his back, 'And more!' He burst out in a self-satisfied laugh.
I had to say, they made the best out of a bad situation. And on top of it all, Micah had barely made a sound, he was strangely quiet.
Dutch patted Bill and John on the back, 'Good work, wake the rest. Let us celebrate!' He clapped his hands together, no doubt imagining Tahiti.
I searched for him in the crowd of people as the camp was waking up, and found him talking to Charles and Sadie at the edge of the camp, clutching his side. Worry gnawed at me. They joined us by the campfire while Arthur headed into his tent, not saying much of nothing to anyone else.
The festivities carried out throughout the night, Arthurs lamp remained turned on. Eventually, I just had to check up on him.
I snuck away from the folk, Abigail and John had already turned in, as had Dutch and Molly. Seemed like the singles were the only ones left drinking, and Micah had disappeared to sulk somewhere. Lucky us.
I left them to it and approached his tent, 'Arthur?' I called, but didn't get an answer. I just heard some huffing from the inside.
I risked his reaction and pulled the flap to the side, 'Arth-' I began, but got cut off by the sight. In front of me was Arthur Morgan, shirt pushed up over his stumache, cowboy hat on, stitching up his own wound. Sitting on a stool, his pants were unbuttoned and folded down by the hip, revealing that beautiful "V" shape along with a happy trail of hair leading down toward, well. . . A new cut stretched from his hip to his abdomen, blood covered his hands and side, groaning as he pulled a needle through his skin. Something set off inside me, a yearning that made my body ache. He scarcely even noticed me, not until I gasped.
He looked up, eyes widening, 'You need somethin' Girl?' He blurted out, taken off guard. His state of undress did not help.
'Arthur Morgan. . .' I sighed, slightly offended, 'You shouldve fetched me, you know im good at stitchin' wounds.'
'I know, I know. 'm sorry sweetheart.' smiling faintly, 'Didnt wanna bother you.' He drawled.
I also noticed a mostly empty bottle of whiskey next to him, hoping he used most of it to disinfect the wound. I put my hands on my hips, 'Will you let me help?'
He nodded and handed me the needle, fingers brushing against eachother as I grabbed it.
Our eyes met, briefly. Sharing a glance that was ment to be stolen.
He leaned back against his dresser, the muscle of his upper body changing and rippling with his movements.
I cleared my throat and stepped closer, 'May I?' I asked, pointing at his shirt.
'You may.' He smirked.
I leaned closer to him, unbuttoning from top to bottom. Then pushing the shirt over his shoulder so it'd stay clear from his wound. I kneeled in front of him, his legs spread so I could get closer to the cut, then resting my elbows on his strong thigh to steady my arms.
I tried to focus on the wound, but it proved hard as I was so close to his crotch and how closely he was observing me.
'Might I ask what happened?' I bit my lip in focus, threading the needle through his skin.
'More men than expected.' He answered with a grunt, looking at my lips. Blood rushing somewhere it ought not to, 'One jumped out on me.' He continued, his voice husky and strained.
'He live to tell the tale?' I asked, searching his gaze. Hoping he'd be sincere.
'He did. . .' He groaned, as I finished another stitch. Making the aching settle in my core, a pulse running through me. Every now and then, when I believed him not to be looking. My eyes roamed his chest, studying his strong pecks and biceps.
'You know anything about Micahs sudden tongue-tie?' I ask, locking eyes with him. He lowers his head with a chuckle, a smirk poking out from under his hat.
'I might've. . . Given him something to think about.' He shrugs, the corner of his lip tugging.
Sighing, a smile spreads over my lips 'Youre a good man, Arthur Morgan.' I told him earnestly, 'Better than most.' I finished the last stitch and looked at him, 'All d-' I began, but he cut me off.
His lips greeting mine in a passionate kiss, lasting a whole second. But it was the best second I'd had in years. He pulled back, a horrified look on his face. Immidietly regretting it.
Surprised, I did not quite know what to say. 'Arthur, Im- You- You're drunk. .' I blurted, thinking it was the alcohol taking action. Nothing else.
'I'm–' He looked at me, searching for words 'You're right, I- I probably am. Apologies miss.' He managed.
I cursed myself, why'd he have to be drunk? He'd never remember that this even happened tomorrow.
'No- no. That's fine, don't worry. I didnt-' I tried, I didn't mind it. In fact I loved it, is that so hard to say? 'I should, uhm- let you sleep, you need to rest.' Idiot.
'I s'pouse so.' Was all he said, shock and regret still lingering between us.
'Well, good night. . . Mr Morgan.' I said, and he winced. Quickly, I took my leave.
'Night ma'am.' He called after me.
It felt like fleeing the scene of a crime. Bashing myself for the the formal good night, we were way past such pleasantires. It felt like a blow to even utter the words, even though I usually call him Mr Morgan. But it's always in a teasing way. Never formal and distant like this was.
Goodness gracious, what had I done?
I tucked myself under the covers in my own tent, thoughts circling my mind. I could not tear myself away from the smell of him, his musk, his broad build. Or the way sweetheart sounded as it rolled of his tongue, the way his tongue felt against my own. A hand snaked between my thighs, relieving myself of the ache he'd caused. Then slowly, I drifted off to sleep. With nothing but him on my mind.
You god damned fool Arthur, why'd you have scare her away? Old bastard, he thought to himself. Seeing her by his tent had startled him, but her gentle touch and sweet voice was all the comfort he'd needed. It took the sting right out of the needle. He'd used the bottle to clean the wound, but letting her think he was drunk was easier than the truth.
He'd took a liking to her from the moment he laid eyes on her, but she would never feel the same way. She'd called him Mr Morgan, as if the last year of building a relation with her had disintigrated within a second. It stung, real bad. Worse than a knife ever would. Yet that kiss made it all worth it her soft lips against his, her sweet taste. Feeling her breath on his skin as she undid his buttons, and seein' you like that? Kneeling between his legs, so close to him. It was a memory he would cherish through thick and thin, a memory that would keep him up at night. A memory that made him hard in an instant, he let out a frustrated groan. Silenty taking care of it, pretty images of her occupying his mind as he did. Finally, he began drifting off to sleep. And he only had one thing on his mind. She'd called him a good man, that's all that mattered to him.
A week passed, and we'd had a few shallow interactions. Nothing serious, but resembling the akwardness we experienced in his tent, it made my heart sore. I always found a reason to talk to him, to be near him. So when to opportunity arrived once again, I jumped on it. We'd had a full day of chores, but needed to head into Valentine for a supply run, to stock up on things like ammo and vegetables. And just generally take a look around town, see what else we could find. But I don't have a horse of my own, and since Lenny and Sean were taking the wagon.
I found myself in need of a ride.
The sun had begun its final stretch before setting, meaning the light was golden and beautiful. The warm spring air was gradually turning chilly, but in the most soothing way. I joined the crew by the horses, 'Who's willin' to give a lady a ride.' I asked coyly.
Arthurs mouth fell open, as if he was about to speak, but quickly closed it again. 'I always got space for you, girl.' Sadie winked.
'Stop that. . You ol' charmer.' I smile shyly. Arthur couldn't help but smile, nothing but admiration I'm his eyes for you.
'Well-' Micah began, and I immediately rolled my eyes. Arthur glaring daggers at him.
'Shut it, and shave that overgrown squirell off your face.' Sadie interrupted him, Sean erupting into laughter at the comment.
'Why are we even bringin' him? We don't need that kind of trouble today.' I pointed out.
'Cause I say so, sweetheart.' He leers, smugness radiating off of him.
My stumache churns, my dinner almost catching its second wind, 'Dont call me that.' I turn serious.
Micah laughs, about to respond-
'You heard her.' Arthur stops him, making him reconsider opening his mouth again. Instead he opts to mutter under his breath, no doubt the most vile and cruel things too.
John joins us to help get the wagon in order, then sen dus off. Changing the subject back, 'Arthur got the most space.' John points out, 'I'm sure he wouldn't mind.' He winks at me subtly, and I blush. John Marston, you godsend.
'That okay with you Arthur?' I ask, looking up at him with big eyes.
'Course, c'mon sweetheart.' He jumps out of the saddle, grabs me by the waist, and helps me onto his tall, dark shire.
I yelp, unprepared for his strength. He gets back on, placing himself behind me, then grabs the reins on either side of me, capturing me in his big frame. I can honestly say, that I've never felt safer. A content smile covers my lips.
Sadie chuckles at the two of us, the chuckle turning into pure laughter when she sees Micahs expression. Gritted teeth and narrowed eyes, glaring at us, probably furious by my blatant approval of Arthurs use of sweetheart.
And with that, we begin our journey into town. Lenny and Sean were singing behind us, Sadie leading the way ahead of us. And Micah? I didn't bother finding out where he was.
Feeling Arthurs warmth behind me was all I cared about, his chest and thighs rubbing up against me with every step of his horse. It was doing something to me.
As the sun dove deeper, the cool in the air grew. Involuntary shivers took ahold of my body, 'You cold, girl?' He asked.
I shook my head, 'No, I'll be fine. Thank you though, Arthur.' My voice hackig as a particularly violent shiver shook my body, making my teeth clattered against eachother.
'Dont you lie to me, you're freezin'.' He says, worry lacing his tone, 'Take the reins.' That was an order.
I did and his hands slid between us, unbuttoning his jacket. Knuckles brushing against my back, all the way along my spine, ending at the arch of my back. Sending shivers in waves all over my body. 'Scooch down.' He orders again. Slightly hesitant, I slide backward. My ass tucked neatly again his crotch and my back flush again his chest. With his jacket still on, he wraps it around my sides, nearly covering my entire upper body. Sharing eachothers heat, trapping it between us.
'Arthur. .' I breathe, lust coursing through me. But it must've sounded as a protest because-
'-Dont start.' He said, 'My jacket is big enough for the both of us. Now hand me the reins, darlin.'
Oh you wonderful, oblivious man.
I gave them back to him and tugged his jacket closer around me, leaning impossibly closer to him. Gradually, my shivers disappeared, all thanks to the large, warm bear of a man behind me.
'See? Told ya'.' His body shook gently with a silent chuckle.
'You're somethin' else Mr Morgan.' I sighed and this time, the words felt right.
He smiled, she didnt see it, thankfully. Everything she did, made him smile. She was so close to him, and he had indirectly caressed her back. He could've leaned back and given her space, but he craved her. It was intimate and special. He'd not felt so peaceful since she stitched him up last week. Everything he did was at her service. Now she sat between his legs, grinding up against him. Not to her knowledge though, she just moved her hips to the step of the horse, riding like a woman should. But unbeknownst to her, she was feeding a hunger he fought hard to contain. Head in the lions mouth and all.
'Whats on that mind of yours Arthur?' She asked, 'I can feel you thinkin' from 'ere.' Shuddering against him, is she still cold?
If she only knew, what was goin' through his mind. How he thought of you every waking moment, a sentiment she would never return.
'Nothin' special, you still feelin' cold? I can feel you shiverin' Girl.'
She froze for a second before she spoke, chuckling under her breath, 'No I ain't cold, but thank you again.' He could hear the smile on her lips.
What was it then?
'Is the cut heelin' good?' She asked, concern and something else lingering in her voice. The memory resurfaced in his mind, his blood setting about rushing places. He shut his eyes, trying to clean his mind before he answered. Clearing his throat first, 'Good, 'is gonna be a nice 'n clean scar.' His voice lightly strained.
'Well, I'm glad. You got enough of em' for my liking.' She huffed, annoyed at the notion of him always hurting himself.
He risked it, and leaned his head forward, almost touching her shoulder but not quite. Breathing in that sweet scent of hers. Telling himself that it wasn't such a strange thing to do. 'I'll survive, I always do. With your fine stitchin' It's impossibly not to.'
She blushed, turning her face away from his, a bit shy at his compliment. He loved the way her cheeks turned rosy, 'Thank you.' She said proudly, another shudder against him.
Damn it, wad she still cold or not?
He opted out of asking again. She'd just tell him no. So he took matters into his own hands, quite literally. He moved the reins into one hand and circled the other around her waist, pulling her closer. Figuring he could blame it on rough terrain, that he didn't want her to hurt her pretty self.
But she didn't protest, on the contrary. She made a sound, almost like she exhaled a moan under her breath. Then grabbed his thigh, rough terrain too, perhaps? 'Arthur. . .' She breathed.
'I apologise miss, I shouldn't ha–' He began.
'No, no. You should've.' Firm in her words. 'You, remember much from last week?' She asked.
'I do.' He breathed, a nervous shake to his voice.
'You werent drunk?'
'No ma'am.' He answered truthfully, 'I lied.'
'Why?' There was hurt in her voice, and something broke inside of him.
He hesitated, choosing his words carefully, afraid he'd hurt her more, 'Thought maybe it'd be best, since I stepped over a line.'
She scoffed, 'You didn't step over anything, Mr Morgan.'
'Well I. . .' He paused, 'You didnt seem to like it, thats all. Didnt want you to think I was takin' advantages.' He rambled an explanation.
'I didn't want to take advantage of you Mr Morgan.' She sounded annoyed, annoyed by this whole missunderstanding, 'Didnt want you kissin' me drunk, if it was, just cause you were drunk.' She explained, 'I thought you were drunk. . .' sighing.
Puzzle pieces were finally falling into place for the both of them.
'We're here!' Sadie called from the front.
Dissapointed, I sighed. Yet, relieved, I smiled.
Arthur jumped off, grabbed my waist and helped me down. His touch lingering as our eyes met, searching eachothers gazes for answers. Wondering, where to go from here. We were finally on the same page, and knowing he kissed me from his own free will put a sping in my step.
The group broke up, I headed with Sadie as the men got about their business. We looked at the guns first and foremost, then headed for the general store. I looked for Arthur as we walked from building to building, and saw him heading into the stables. I wondered if he was gonna treat himself to a new saddle. He deserved it.
We went about our list of things to buy, then gathered by the wagon. Collectively, we decided on a bar run before we rode back to camp. Lenny and Sean were particularly excited about the idea.
We ordered whiskey, drank and laughed. Sadie and Lenny stood between me and Arthur, resulting in a whole lot of meaningful glances. Just wishing we could talk some more.
At some point a woman had approached Arthur, laying her hand on his bicep, clearly flirting. And my blood ran cold.
I stood talking with Sean, who noticed my change in demeanour and looked over at them. 'Dont worry yourself girl.' He laughed, and I furrowed my brows. Not sure what he ment.
'You gonna buy a lady a drink?' The woman asked, her voice sultry. Now, my blood boiled.
Arthur chuckeled, 'I didnt know I was talking to a lady.' And glanced at her hand, which she immediately retracted upon noticing.
She scoffed, 'Aint that a nice way to treat a woman. You taken cowboy?' She asked, her eyes narrowing on him.
'Well. . .' He huffed, 'You could say that.'
My heart swelled at his comment.
'Told ye so.' Sean smirked, and I playfully hit him on the shoulder.
The night went on, and as most nights go in a saloon, a fight was bound to happen. Arthur must've been watching me, because within the next half minute. A man had walked up next to me, and was about to touch what wasnt his to touch. But Arthur appeared out of nowhere, his outlaw instics mustve been on high alert. The man did in fact look sleezy enough to attempt such a thing, Arthur grabbed the mans wrist in a bone breaking grib. 'You keep your hands to yourself mister.' He said, his voice low and threatening.
'Or what?' The man spit, and Arthur let go of him. Lowering his head, chuckling. That shouldve been the mans warning, but he didn't know Arthur like we did.
Backing me up, Sean whispered 'Get ready.' to Sadie, Lenny and me. Nodding to a table of thugs in the corner, they were staring at our group intently, watching the scene unfold.
Arthur jerked his head to the side and smirked under his hat, then in flash he gave the man a lethal right hook. Sending him flying backward. The thugs sprung up, heading for us with firm steps.
Holy shit. A full on brawl broke out, everyone lunged themselves on everyone. I delivered a right hook of my own as two guys were ganging up on Lenny. Another man tried getting handsy with me, he snuck up behind me and grabbed me around the waist. So I elbowed him hard in the side and threw my head back. Headbutting him, I turned around and pushed him off me. Taking great joy in the way his nose was gushing blood, I grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him in the crotch. With a whine, the man fell to the ground.
Even Micah joined in on the action, he'd been sitting still enjoying his whiskey beside us. Until he decided he wanted some fun too, apparently only he could be inappropriate with me. He smashed the glass over the head on the closest man, although im pretty sure he wasn't even apart of the brawl.
As the dust was settling and the lawmen had been called, we flew the coup. Arthur grabbed my hand and rushed us to our horses, not willing to risk leading the law back to camp, we rode hard and fast for Strawberry. Arthur was making a fuss about me on the ride there, asking if I was ok, and I assured him I was. 'Well. . . You got one hell of a hook girl.' He said, and I beamed with pride.
The gang had to act casual as we arrived to Strawberry, which proved futile with cuts and bruises as we asked for hotel rooms. But we ended up conning our way into possession of the last three hotel rooms. Bribing the clerk that is.
Arthur grabbed a key of his own, which nobody disputed. He gave me a meaningful look at and headed upstairs. Sadie grabbed a key and dragged me along with her. Leaving the last three men to argue about sharing a room, 'Shut up Micah, you're sleeping in the hall.' Sean shouted behind us. Turning around, I saw Micah slamming the doors open and storming out.
'I'll find a woman to warm me, dont ya' worry.' He shouted back, muttering under his breath.
We burst out laughing and ran to our room, but before we headed in, I grabbed her arm 'I'm just gonna go check on Arthur real quick.' I said, not thinking much of it.
'I'll not see you til the morning then.' She laughed, our stolen glances had apparently not been so stolen after all.
I rolled my eyes, 'We'll see.' And knocked on his door.
Lenny and Sean walked by, a low whistle accompanied by chuckles as they saw me standing there. But they quickly turned quiet when Arthur opened the door, standing in only his shirt and pants 'May I come in?' I asked, giving him my best puppy eyes.
'Course.' He smirked, and opened the door wider, stepping out of my way. My side brushing against him as I entered. His vest and jacket lay discarded on the bed, along with his hat.
'About before-' I began, my back turned to him. Suddenly feeling his hands slide onto my waist, pulling me into him. I gasped, not expecting it. He leaned into my shoulder, lips gracing my neck, all the way up to my ear. The warmth of his breath fanning over my skin, making me boil on the inside. It made it difficult to think.
'I want you darlin', all of ya'.' He whisperes, 'If you'll have me–' pausing to place a gentle kiss between my ear and jaw, '–'M tired off missunderstandin's.'
In a haze, I turn around and lay my hands on his chest, having to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. I reach one hand to caress his cheek, brushing at his stubble 'So am I.'
He leans into my delicate touch, nuzzling my hand and placing a soft peck on my palm.
One of his hands sinks its fingertips into the flesh at my hip as the other grabs my arm softly, sliding his hand up to my wrist, gently holding it as he places another kiss there, right on my pulse point. His lips linger, feeling my rapid heartbeat. Gently, he experiments. Sucking and pecking the spot.
A deep ache settles in my bones, fortifying with every kiss he places, deepening with every beat of my heart. And for a second, he feels it too. Meeting my eyes with a smirk, he pulls my sleeve up to cover more ground. Immidietly I feel that my clothes are weighing me down, 'Arthur.' I whisper.
'Hmm?' He hums, focused on kissing what skin he has access to.
Clearing my throat, 'Will you–' I breathe, 'Help me unbutton?'
His eyes meet mine again, searching my gaze for certainty. 'I'll spend the rest of my days doin' your biddin' if it makes you happy girl.'
'It would–' I say, and his hands move to my ribcage, pulling me into his frame. His face an inch from mine as his hands snake around my back, making quick work of each button without batting an eye. 'Oh—' I gasp, surprised by his practiced fingers. 'Should I be jealous?' I ask under my breath.
'No ma'am, none could compete with you.' He assures me.
I feel a blush creep up my cheeks, and in the same moment, he finishes with the last button. Stroking his knuckles over the bare skin along my spine, and sighs. Content. As a shuddering breath leaves me.
Arthur wonders for but a second if shes cold again, until he realises.
'You werent cold, were ya'?'
Immedietly getting what hes reffering to, 'In the begginin' I was.' I tell him truthfully, 'Youre wonderfully clueless sometimes, especially for such a experienced man.'
He chuckles, 'You tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered for me?'
'You were rubbin' against me, pullin' me close. How could I not be?'
'I wasnt–' He protests, '–You were on me if anythin'.'
'Oh so youre tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered then?' I throw his words back at him, smirking happily while doing it.
Arthurs mouth opens and closes, unable to think of a comeback.
'Thats what I thought.'
He scoffs a smile, pushing my blouse off of me, leaving me in my undergarments.
His hands move to my arms, sliding upwards, leaving prickled skin in their abscence. He trails them over my collarbones and neck, his eyes following every inch of movement.
I lay my hands on his hips, holding onto him as my knees grow weeker by the second.
Forming his hands into loose fists, he caresses my cheeks with the backs if his fingers. Gently brushing the knuckles over my cheekbones, pushing strands of hair from my face in the same motion. He flattens his hands and cup my face, big hands draping around the sides of my head. Pulling me closer, he leans into my space. Meeting in the middle, his lips ghost over mine.
My breath hitches when he kisses me softly, his thumbs stroking my temples in soothing motions.
I grab onto his shirt, fisting and lightly pulling on the fabric. Arousal taking the reins completley, making it hard to think. I look at him with hazy eyes, admiration clouding every sense I have. '. . 'S your turn mister.' I breathe.
Smiling, he continues kissing me, 'At your pleasure ma'am.'
With a pleased hum, I trace my hands up his abdomen and over his chest, and Arthur groans in response. The aching pulse in my body stiffens at the sound, becoming more compressed. More focused in my core. Kissing him, I easily unbutton his shirt, making quick work of it, and slide it over his shoulders. Now hooked on his arm folds, it hangs around the small of his back. I sigh happily, what a sight it was.
'You expercied taking men's shirt's off?' He jokes, laughing. Then moves his hands to my waist, clawing softly at my skin.
I slide my arms around his neck, up into his hair. Scrathing his scalp tenderly, 'Well–' I begin, but he bites my lip suddenly, warning me. I yelp, accidently pulling on his hair, and a whine escapes him. My core dripping at the sound as I release a shuddering breath, '. .'M a woman Arthur, I have needs.'
'Yeah?' He questions, 'You needin' right now, woman?' The gruffness in his voice making my fingers curl.
'I am. .' Whining, my kisses turn needy, 'I need you Arthur, always.' I moan.
At that he wraps his arms around me, pulling me tightly into his embrace, his fingers digging into my flesh. He kissed me, hard. Hard like he might just die if let's me go.
'Skirt. . .' mumbling against me, 'Needs to go.' He manages. Without another word, I snake my hands behind my back, untying my skirt a let it fall to the floor. Arthur walks forward, forcing me back until my chins hit the bed and we fall onto it. He puts his weight on me, although supported by his forearms. 'Pants.' He orders, but I was already one step ahead. My hands already moving quickly to undo the buttons on his pants as hes kissing his way down my jaw and neck. Focusing on my sweet spot, hes sucks bruises, turning me into a moaning mess under every breath. Meanwhile, I shove my hand into his boxers. He grunts and shoves his forehead into the crook of my neck as I palm him, overwhelmed by my long lusted for touches. His member was already harder than a rock, and leaking juices. I bring my thump to his tip, stroking his seed in circles. He groans breathely into my neck, his warm breath causing further heat to pool in core. He leans onto one arm, sliding the other along the curves of my body. Cupping my breast through my brasier, 'I want to look at you sweetheart.' He groans and unfolds his arm so that hes above me to meet my eyes, 'Can I look at ya'?' He asks, voice pleading.
I nod, '. . 'Course.'.
Waisting no time, he snakes one hand under my back and lifts me up. I gasp, always surprised by his strength. 'Please, ma'am.' He begs, and I take the hint. My hand leaves his his member and move around my back, undoing the brasier. Throwing it on the floor, he sighs in relief, 'Wanted to see ya' for so long.' He breathes, lowering me back onto the bed and himself onto of me. Immidietly taking one breast into his mouth, and palms the other. Squeezing them, playing with my nipples, using teeth, tounge and fingers. Automatically, my back arches. Pushing my abdomen against his, and accidentally making my mound rub against his crotch. He hums under his breath, his hand leaving my breast and slowly slides down my body, then pulls his mouth off of my breast with a pop. 'Now.' He whispers, kissing his way up to my jaw, then leveling his head with mine, 'Wanna se all of ya'.' his free hand cups my cunt. I gasp from the sudden touch, there's no friction, no movement, yet the aching grows stronger from the warmth of his palm alone. I shut my eyes, trying to come up with an answer. But the presence of him takes up my entire mind, all I can manage is a nod.
Not satisfied, he pushes his palm firmly against my core. 'Look at me girl.' He orders, sliding his middle finger over my slit, undergarments creating a barrier. Making my wetness soak into them, and he chuckles when he feels it. Whimpering, I open my eyes to look at him, and he smirks, 'Good girl.' And plants a kiss on my jaw, 'Use your words this time.' He pecks my lips, then slides his finger over my clit. Lately circling it through the fabric, I swallow hard. Jolts of pleasure surge through my body as something finally gives. 'Want. . . You.' I manage.
'Yeah?' He breathes, and I nod. To which he raises his brows, and pushes two fingers against my core in warning.
Another jolt, '!Mmm, meanin'. . .' Humming a stutter, 'Yes–' I pause, '–Please Arthur. I- I want you.'
'Atta girl.' He praises, then begins trailing kisses down my chest, over my nipple and abdomen, ending at my mound, right above my clit.
My back arches, 'Please. .' I whisper, pleading with him. He pushes back, shakes his already half off shirt completley off, and his pants follow. My eyes go wide at the size of him, hello cowboy.
His hands slide up my thighs, giving reassuring squeezes until he gets ahold of my undergarments. Hooking his fingers under them, he gently slides them off, and the both of us gasp. 'Beautiful.' He murmurs, admiring me. Then bends down, kissing his way up my inner thigh. Winding his arms under my legs and grabbing my waist, then hovers over my cunt, giving me one last look before diving in.
He licks one long stripe up my folds, gathering my wetness on his tongue. Then attaches himself to my clit, generously sucking and circling his tongue around it. I'd been on edge since the night in the tent, hyper sensitive from always wanting him, and finally feeling him on me? It's purely magical, I have to bite my cheek to keep from screaming when he shoves two fingers inside me. Thrusting in and out, curling with every withdrawal. I was already close, 'Arthur, 'm so close.' I moan.
He nods, furthering the movement of his tongue, 'Tell me what ya' needin' girl.' He mumbles against my folds, the vibrations of his voice deepness have me gripping my sheets, clawing it them like a wild animal.
'Need you, need you in me.' I blurt out.
He laughs, 'Im already in you sweetheart.' Causing my back to arch again, oh sweet, sweet vibrations. I throw my head back into the pillow, and his hand slides from my hip to my lower abdomen, 'Be good and lay still now.' Then pushing down with his palm. That combined with his fingers, were– were enough. . .
Blinding pleasure surges through me as I come on his fingers, walls clenching, fluids flowing. I breathe heavily as he laps it up, 'In me Arthur, please.' I whine.
'Youre gonna have to be clearer girl.'
I loose my patience, 'Christ, Arthur! I need you cock in me.'
He smirks, 'Well why didnt you just say so?' His hands push my legs over his shoulders and he climbs on top of me, face to face, he kisses me passionately. Tasting of salt.
His tip graces my entrance, 'You sure, aint you?' He asks, kissing my jaw.
I bury my hand in his hair, 'Mmh, 'm sure.' And with that, pushes inside me. A breathy moan leaves our mouths simultaneously.
'Feelin' just as sweet as you taste sweetheart.' He whispers against my jaw, nuzzling his nose into my cheek and forehead against temple. The pulls out, to the tip, and shoves himself back in. Hard and passionate, he sets perfect pace. Rocking our bodies with every thrust, going deeper than I ever thought to be possible.
'Christ.' I groan, he's hitting that spot inside me with every motion. One hand moves though his back, scratching at it loosely, pulling on hip to get him even deeper. He grunts, in my ear. Might aswell be music, wouldnt be able to tell a difference. He snakes one hand up my torso, grabbing my throat gently and squeezing just enough. Brushing his thumb over my my jugular. Outlaw indeed.
I pull on his hair, to level his face with mine, I wanted his lips, his tongue. 'Kiss me cowboy.' I order, and he follows.
Kissing me deeply, in rhythm with his thrusts, In rhythm with the aching that was finally dulling in my body. Finally, I had I'm. Truly had him. Bliss flows through me as the knot in my stumache tightens, on the verge of my second orgasm. And telling by Arthurs thrusts, he wasn't far away either. In a few more thrusts we both topple over with a breathy moans, Arthur whispering, 'Good girl.' Over and over as his seed was filling me to the brim, seeping out around his member as he collapses on me. My legs falling to the bed. We gather our breaths in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the closeness of the other.
He lays and arm around me, pulling me close as we fall asleep. Both thinking of the other, just not having to imagine what holding the other would feel like anymore.
At some point during the night, Arthur had rolled me off of his arm and snuck out. I was to tired to think much of it, especially since he returned shortly after. By morning I had all but forgotten it, brushing it off as a dream.
As we got dressed and ready the next day, I handed Arthur his hat. He took it, but looked at me, 'Put it on, wanna see you in something of mine.' He says, smiling.
'Gladly.' I chirp, and put it on.
His smile slants, turning into a smirk, 'Now, girl. You know what that means don't you?'
'Why'd you think I was glad to put it on. If not just to tell Micah to shove it.' I chuckle.
'It suits ya' He ruffles my hair with the hat.
We walked out and fetch our horses, the grup giving us mixed looks as the spot us. Arthurs hat declaring to the public of his intentions, that I was his and that we would have a busy night. Sadie smirked knowingly, winking at me. While Sean and Lenny looked happy for us, Micah was the only one who glowered.
'I got a surprise.' He says as he saddles his shire.
'Yeah, whats that?' I tilt my head.
He nods to Sean who runs off, I quirk my eyebrow at Arthur, 'Whats all this?' I ask.
'You'll see, keep your eyes peeled sweetheart.'
Eventually, Sean comes back into view, leading a horse I don't recognize. A beautiful mustang, tan coat, and white forhead. I don't connect the dots at first, 'Sean got a new horse?' I ask, confused.
'Now why would I surprise you with a new horse for Sean?' He asks, chuckling. And the pieces snap into place.
'For me?' I ask, dumbfounded. A million questions circling my head.
'Got her yesterday, had Sean ride and get her earlier this morning. Since I was. . . Occupied.' He smirks.
'That's why you snuck out in the night, then?'
He hums, 'Mhm.'
'Well I'll be. . Arthur Morgan, thank you.' I smile, hugging him. He wraps his arm around me, holding me tightly, afraid I'd otherwise slip away.
'. .'S nothing.' He pecks my cheek, 'Go meet her.'
As we arrived back to camp, we got busy. Late into the night we spent in Arthurs tent, defining the meaning of cowgirl.
The next few hours we rode next to eachother on our way back to camp, flirting and laughing as Saint and I got used to eachother.
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reesiereads · 8 months
Text
So I wonder if Husk’s dislike of his form is (at least somewhat) a result of Alastor’s treatment of him?
It’s mentioned on his wiki that Husk does not like his form. He’s essentially a house cat with bird add-ons, which isn’t exactly intimidating.
His dislike could be for plenty of reasons but to me it kinda came across like he’s used to being treated as less than human? Like a pet.
Angel’s “kitty has claws” and “meow” are the flirtations that seem to cause the most visceral reaction out of husk (outside of “I can make those wings flap” which is, again, about Husk’s actual form). Angel was also touching Husk on both situations, moving him in the way he wanted to emphasize his point (tilting and holding Husk’s chin and tilting his wings). Part of Husk’s dislike is definitely because he dislikes Angel’s fakeness and the infringement on his boundaries, but these comments in particular set him off in a way the others don’t. It’s genuine anger over exasperation.
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Then we get the Husk and Alastor scene in Episode 5 where Alastor openly talks down to Husk and scratches him behind the ear like an actual cat. This sets Husk off enough that, even knowing he’s owned by Alastor who is extremely dangerous (because I doubt he’s just forget that), he still snaps back. The first thing he says is “You may own my soul but I’m not your damn pet” and the level of anger here seems to imply Alastor treats him like this with at least some frequency. This is further proven when Alastor responds with a simple “oh, but you are!” Which is what leads to Husk snapping enough that he sets Alastor off.
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Alastor then proceeds to push Husk to the ground and show his chain, pulling Husk closer against his will the same way one might an unruly dog pulling on its leash.
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I think it’s also worth noting that Alastor is not usually a touchy person. This episode is an exception in that he’s being extra nice to Charlie to piss off Lucifer but this is still far from the norm. The only one he’s really touched up to this point is Nifty and that was only because she climbed on him. Him petting Husk was only a move of control, which is probably part of why it set Husk off so badly.
I think this also changes our perspectives on “Loser, baby” and the comparison there, since we now actually know what Husk and Alastor’s relationship is like. Angel may be Val’s toy but Husk is Alastor’s pet. His cat who’s brought in to take care of the mice.
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blaydie · 28 days
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ᥫ᭡ A FOOL’S MISTAKE — “It’s not like him to be so careless.” -> Dan Heng x GN reader.
Word count: 1.2k
Contains: Dan Heng x GN reader, injured Dan Heng, fluff, comfort, affection, reassurance, cuddles, kissing, indirect confession.
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Sprawled across your bed, Dan Heng lays there, scrunching his brows when your hand rubs over the wound he received while with the crew. He was sent back to the Astral Express, advised by Himeko to rest for the remainder of this trip. You’ve been here for a while and are accustomed to everyone’s mannerisms, but even an outsider could tell how frustrated he was for letting his guard down so easily. It’s not like him to be so careless.
“I swear I saw you. You were there.” He grunts, his fingers creasing your sheets with the force he grips them. The ointment coats the damaged skin, aiding repair and prevention of infection.
Whatever he experienced out there has led to a set of delusions. He keeps repeating the same words as though he is in denial about the truth.
“I’ve been here with Pom-Pom the entire time. I haven’t stepped foot off of the Express since our last mission.”
“I tried to—”
“Himeko said you ran straight into the enemies. Mr. Yang called you back, but you didn’t listen to him. Whatever hallucination you had wasn’t real, Dan. I’m okay. I never left the Express.” You speak softly, attempting to calm him from his frenzied state.
“…” His eyes fluttered, releasing his clutch on the sheets. His index finger trails down the length of your arm, searching you for any wounds.
“I’m fine, I swear to you. I wouldn’t lie to you, especially not about something like that.”
“It knew how to get to me then.” He mutters, leaving his hand flat on top of yours. “I thought you were going to die.”
“It was a cruel trick. You know the others wouldn’t let that happen so easily though.”
“Hallucination or not, I wouldn’t let you go like that. I couldn’t just watch it happen.”
“In future, please don’t rush into a hoard of creatures for me without double-checking with the others. You’re worried about me dying, but you could’ve been seriously hurt if that fight wasn’t wrapped up quickly.”
“I’m a fool.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I am. I’m the only one who was unable to resist their manipulation. That hallucination. Everyone must have seen a different one.”
“You were just worried for my safety. I’m sure if anyone else witnessed one of us in danger, they would have had a similar reaction. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
A shaky exhale left his lips while his fingers locked with yours. His thumb brushed over the bumps of your knuckles, grounding himself from the extensive shock his body underwent. He remembers that day when he swore he would never let anything harm you, how you will always be the first one he saves. There was never a moment you doubted him, fully aware of how willing he is to throw away his own life if it means you get to live. 
“I got you a change of clothes when I heard you were hurt. I had to search through your closet, I hope you don’t mind.” You sheepishly push a fresh set of clothes towards him—the ones you usually catch him lounging in while working in the archives late at night.
“No, not at all. Thank you. I’m glad that you’re the first person I saw when I woke up.” Discarding his sombre expression, his lips twist up slightly. A subtle twinge of colour spreads across his face, scooting you aside while he sits up.
“Is the bandage too tight? I can loosen it a little if you’d like.” You glance at his bare torso, eyes lingering on his abdomen for longer than you’d like to admit. Something was alluring about him in your perspective, something that others may not see. 
“It’s fine. I appreciate the effort you put in to take care of me.” He stands to his feet, turning his back to you as he changes his attire.
When fully covered, he returns to your bed. Propping a pillow against the headboard, he pulls a blanket over himself, seemingly getting himself comfortable. It appears that he plans to stay here for the remainder of the evening, something he knows you won’t protest. Pulling you into his side, your head collides with his shoulder, a shared spell of laughter illuminating the darkness that was once cast in your room.
“I need to tell the group chat you’re okay. They were worried sick about you when you fell unconscious.” You reach for your phone, snapping a picture of the very alive Dan Heng beside you. 
Within a few seconds, multiple notifications flood your screen, mainly March and Pom-Pom, the usual dramatics when something like this occurs. Himeko sends her best wishes while Mr. Yang writes a small lecture. He doesn’t mean any harm by what he said, it’s the instinct of being a parent—he will always look out for you all, whether you like it or not. 
“I’m sorry if I frightened you,” Dan speaks up when you turn off your phone, capturing your attention.
“Don’t be. All I ask is that you don’t die without me.”
“I’ll try my best.”
Weaving his arms around you, he held you close in an embrace, the only sound filling the room being your mingled breaths completely in sync. It’s no mistake that out of everyone on the Express, Dan’s strongest connection is with you. You’re the one he turns to when he feels no one else would understand his woes, you accepted him and his stoic ways into your life without trying to change him. For that, he’s grateful. You understand that not every issue can be fixed with a smile, a snack, or a nap.
Shifting his hand from the small of your back, he pushes your chin up. You grin at him, eyes crinkling as he stares back at you. The outline of your lips is a shape he learned how to trace, now able to reconstruct it using his memory when not presented in front of him.
“I’m glad you joined the Express. Travelling through the stars together is romantic when you view it the right way. I wouldn’t want to experience that with anybody else.”
Sealing his sweet speech, he presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss. Allowing him more space, you open your mouth slightly. Dan adored every inch of you, being granted permission to be so affectionate was merely a blessing. The heat radiating from his palms made your skin clammy, a stark contrast to his usual cold hands. 
Pulling away, your saliva remains at the corner of his mouth while he beams at you, his eyes half-lidded. His chest heaves, your lips more pronounced from the puffiness. The look in his eyes speaks words that he is not yet ready to admit, and you understand them all. When the time comes, he’ll tell you properly in the way he has planned. 
Developing an attraction to you felt like a mistake at first, he didn’t want to let you down and paint himself to be someone he’s not. However, you proved to him that you can handle all of his issues and emotions. Every flaw he possesses you manage to see the beauty—memories which used to haunt him don’t dare reside in his mind when you’re nearby. You ease the pain placed upon him.
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cutielando · 2 months
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Hi love the five you do I was wondering if you can do a Carlos x y/n where Carlos is gonna propose or just a day where he spends time with his girlfriend and their son
our little family | c.s.
my masterlist
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Carlos considered himself a very lucky man. He truly had everything he could ever want.
A successful career, an amazing home in Spain, but the most prized possession was by far his family: you and little Matteo.
You and Carlos had been together for a couple of years when you found out you were pregnant with your baby boy, Matteo. You were quite nervous at the beginning when you found out, not knowing if it was the right time for a baby. Especially because Carlos' career with Ferrari had just begun.
But for Carlos, it was a no brainer.
He had wanted a family ever since he was a little boy, and he couldn't remember ever being as happy as he was when you told him you were pregnant. And thankfully, upon seeing his reaction, there was no doubt in your mind that Carlos would be the best father in the world to your baby.
And now, almost 5 years later down the road, you were absolutely standing by that statement. Matteo was the carbon copy of his father, those big brown eyes and that hair undoubtedly inheriting from Carlos.
You could never resist your boys, especially when they would both come to you with those big puppy brown eyes. You were melting in seconds under their shared gaze.
You were the happiest a woman can be, with your boyfriend and your son beside you. It couldn't get any better.
Except it was about to.
Carlos and Matteo had been plotting for a while behind your back, making sure everything was ready for the moment Carlos had been waiting for ever since he met you: asking you to marry him.
He had come up with a whole plan, nothing grand because you liked keeping things simple, but special nonetheless.
The morning of the day began like any other. Waking up with Carlos, getting some cuddles in before the day would start, and Matteo decided to join in on the cuddles as he came running into your bed with his stuffed chili in his hand.
"Good morning, baby boy. Did you sleep well?" you asked Matteo as he settled in on your chest, his small hands wrapped around your waist as much as he could reach.
"I dreamed of you and papa" Matteo said, giggling as you and Carlos shared a look.
"Oh, and what were we doing in this dream of yours?' Carlos asked, sneaking glances at you from the corner of his eyes.
You didn't know it, but Matteo and Carlos had planned this weeks in advance.
"It's a secret" Teo giggled, making you smile and smother him with kisses all over his face, eliciting squeals of joy from the little boy.
The 3 of you sat there in silence for a couple of minutes, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of a family morning. Carlos was nervous, but he was doing his best to hide it from you. He had the whole day planned, and he was going to make sure everything went accordingly.
To start, he had to tell you that he would be taking you on a surprise trip today.
"Mi amor, I have a surprise for you today. But I need you to get ready to leave in about an hour" Carlos said, his voice small as to not disturb the snoozing toddler on your chest.
But that thought was quickly silenced when Matteo opened his eyes, smiling cheekily at his father.
"Where are we going?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. Carlos hadn't mentioned taking you anywhere until now, so it was really out of the blue for you.
"It's a surprise, mama!" Matteo said, giggling as he got up from your chest and sprinted out of the room and to his own bedroom to get ready, putting on the outfit he had chosen with Carlos the night before.
"You heard our little man, it's a surprise" Carlos said, pecking your lips before he got up from the bed and went straight to the bathroom.
Your skepticism was at an all-time high, but you just shook your head and smiled fondly. Even though you had so many questions for both Carlos and Matteo, you couldn't help but indulge them in their endeavor.
Within the hour, the 3 of you were leaving the house, all of you dressed to impress, but still casual. Matteo was the happiest little boy he could be and excited for what was about to happen, Carlos was nervous as hell, and you were oblivious as to what your boyfriend and son had planned.
Firstly, they took you to the hair salon to get your hair done, then they took you to the mall to get your nails done while they shopped for you (albeit doing a very good job at the same time) and then Carlos said you had one more stop on your little surprise journey.
And when you finally made it to the last stop, you felt so many emotions running through you, so many memories suddenly swimming around in your mind.
He had taken you to the hill overlooking Barcelona, the place where he had asked you to be his girlfriend all those years ago.
"It's been so long since we were here" you said when standing on top of the hill, looking around at your home city that stretched out beneath your eyes.
Carlos was standing behind you, having given his phone to little Matteo so he could record what was about to go down.
Matteo started recording and pointed the camera to the two of you, giggling quietly to himself.
Carlos silently took out the velvet box he had been hiding for months, long before he started organizing this whole thing, and cleared his throat, prompting you to turn around.
The realization suddenly hit you, seeing Carlos holding a ring in his hand and your precious son getting the whole moment on camera.
"You cheeky guys" you laughed, tears already flowing down your cheeks like a waterfall.
"Smile, mama!" Matteo said, smiling widely behind the camera.
"Y/N, no words could fairly explain how much I love you and how much better my life has been since I met you. You are the center of my universe, the only woman I could ever dream of spending the rest of my days with, the best mother to our son, the only woman I am going to love for the rest of my life. You made me the happiest man in the world when you gave me our son, and I want to try and make you at least nearly as much as you've made me. Y/N, will you make me and Matteo the happiest guys in the world and marry me?" Carlos finished his speech, tears welling up in his eyes.
You were full-on crying right now, your words stuck in your throat as you tried to compose yourself.
"Say yes mama!!" Matteo yelled from besides you, making both you and Carlos burst you laughing.
"Yes, Carlos" you managed to say, prompting Carlos to scoop you up in his arms, laughing idly in your ear.
"Yay!!" Teo cheered loudly while jumping up and down, making the two of you laugh and bring him into your hug.
Oh, how you loved your little family.
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imfoive · 1 month
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Little Picasso
Chan x Reader (fem.) Genre: Dad! Chan, Established Relationship, Fluff, Slice-of-life Warnings: none! (mention of word “sh*t”), somewhat proofread WC: 3.8k A/N: I had so much fun writing this! Might make a series of dad!skz. Feedback is always welcome, enjoy! ── MASTERLIST
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He had assured her. 
The night before, the morning of.
   “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”
   “Go have fun with your friends. You haven’t seen them in forever.”
It was true. After Mimi was born, Y/N had been so preoccupied with the new chapter of motherhood that her outings had become sporadic, sometimes happening just once a month.
Her husband would urge her, “Babe, please go have some fun with your friends.”
Sure, they had date nights. Chan and she would frequently make time for each other while leaving their daughter in the care of either his parents or hers. Even though her mind would often wander back to thoughts of their toddler, Chan managed to keep her focused on their evening together, allowing them to enjoy each other’s company.
But when it was just her, when she managed to escape to do something she’d always enjoyed, things that didn’t involve errands, lists, or a child on her hip, all Y/N could think about was Mimi.
She wouldn’t say she was a helicopter mom. She wasn’t always trailing behind Mimi. But with their almost four-year-old inheriting her father’s chaotic nature whenever she got a bit too hyper, she couldn’t help but worry. When Mimi got excited, she would spiral out of control, often taking hours to calm down from her sugarless high.
Her husband was different. Bang Chan was always an anchor, level-headed and approaching things in his own orderly but calm fashion, making sure nothing bad would happen at all times. So, while some might think he would handle fatherhood similarly, he was different in that regard. Although he’d always keep a sharp eye out for dangerous situations, he wouldn’t always rush to the rescue as soon as Mimi cried. Instead, he would observe, waiting to see if she was truly hurt or if it was just a reaction to shock. Chan was the type to let Mimi try things that might result in her crashing to the ground or things around her crashing to the ground. 
   “It’s all life lessons. She’ll learn from them and approach things with more caution next time.”
While it was true that Mimi would tackle her failures with a more gentle approach, the worry never left Y/N.
But still, here she was, rethinking her decision about attending a brunch her best friend from college was hosting to kick off her wedding events. She already knew she was going to be included in her friend’s bridal party and would be honored to be a bridesmaid. Yet, on the morning of the event, she stood in front of her closet, staring at the dress she had set out the night before, filled with doubt.
   “Maybe I should tell her I can’t make it?” She questioned, turning to find Chan in the middle of getting dressed.
   “Babe, you can’t flake on her. You promised you’d be there.” He shook his head, reminding her of her best friend’s stern phone call warning that she’d better show up.
She sighed, hands resting on her hips, knowing she wouldn’t be able to actually not show without a guilty conscience. Chan came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and resting his head on her shoulder.
   “We talked about this. Everything will be okay here in your absence.” 
She turned in his arms, meeting his soft gaze. 
   “I know, but I can’t help but worry. Every time I’m out alone, all I can think about is Mimi. I know she’s safe with you or our parents, but she’s become such a handful lately. I worry sometimes.”
Chan couldn’t disagree. Mimi was becoming a walking disaster, and even he felt anxious from time to time. But he was more concerned that if she continued to overthink, she might become overbearing and overprotective, which wouldn’t be good for either Mimi or herself in the long run.
   “It’s part of growing up. She’ll get hurt, she’ll break things. But, even though she’s a little reckless, she’s such a good girl.” There was a proud glint in his eyes, and both his words and gaze convinced her for now.
   “I should start getting ready then.” She sighed.
   “Can I watch?” Chan mused, stepping back and eyeing her figure.
   “Like you don’t already.” Y/N retorted with a roll of her eyes, earning a chuckle from him as he lounged back on the bed.
It was still early, and Mimi was still asleep in her room. She had well over two hours to prepare before she needed to head out, so there was no rush.
   “She had too many of those snacks last night, so please don’t sneak some onto her plate.” She ordered, applying makeup while glancing at Chan through the dresser mirror.
He chuckled and nodded. “Got it.” He remained lounged back, supporting himself with his palms against the mattress.
   “And the rug. I’m still worried about it… maybe we should put it—”
   “Babe, relax. The rug looks great where it is. It’s been three days, and it’s still pristine.” Chan assured.
Which was true. Y/N had been contemplating for two weeks whether it was a good idea to place it out. She had been hauling it in and out of its spot for the better part of the week before Chan got tired of her indecisiveness. The rug was one of those wedding gifts she had forgotten about until she rediscovered it rolled up in storage. Still wrapped, still new and soft.
She sighed, grabbing her blush compact.
He was right. She was probably overthinking. Mimi understood when she told her to be careful on the rug. She even started tiptoeing on it to avoid ruining it.
Truth be told, Y/N was probably more nervous about seeing her group of college friends she hadn’t seen in forever. Besides her best friend, many of the group were much like herself. Married, with children, busy with their jobs and life. It had become harder for all of them to connect frequently. Her best friend’s celebration was a great excuse to bring everyone back together and have some time for themselves, which they hadn’t had in what felt like forever.
Chan noticed the unconscious smile that spread across her face as she thought about brunch. He was glad. She had been jittery since last night, planning her absence as if she were leaving for a vacation and not just a few hours.
   “Which color?” Y/N asked, turning in her seat to hold up lipsticks for him to choose between.
He pondered for a moment before pointing at the right one, only for her to use the other. It still made him laugh, a cute habit of hers that she had ever since the two of them began dating. He still made a choice every time, knowing 9 out of 10 times she was always going to choose for herself anyways.
   “That one is too pink.” She muttered, smacking her lips together, satisfied with her choice.
The sound of footsteps running across the floorboards growing closer made them both turn to the door, where their daughter made her entrance for the day, bedhead and all. Mimi ran into her father’s awaiting arms, still sleepy-eyed. 
   “Morning miss Mimo.” Chan chuckled at the sight of her, clearly pleased that she had slept well.
   “Mommy looks pretty.” Mimi complimented with a groggy hum, watching her mother through the mirror, just like her dad had.
Y/N smiled, ready and all, standing up to show off her flowy dress.
   “It’a green, your favorite color. Do you like it?” She asked, twirling around to reveal the cute pattern.
Mimi nodded, her eyes lighting up.
   “I wanna wear a green dress too mommy!” She’s excited now.
Both Y/N and Chan laughed, and Chan patted down Mimi’s messy hair.
   “Let’s take a bath and then get into our pretty dress. We do have a pretty green dress, right?” He’s looking at Y/N.
She nodded, and Chan immediately stood with arms outstretched for their three-year-old to jump into.
It isn’t until Mimi was getting into the bath, Y/N popped into the bathroom, fully ready to leave.
   “I’m gonna head out now baby.” She said, her hand gently brushing Mimi’s cheek before she turned to Chan.
   “Call me if anything happens. And remember—“
Chan leaned in and pecked her lips, cutting off the barrage of instructions she had been about to give.
   “We’ll be good.” He said with a reassuring smile, turning to look down at their daughter, who was already distracted by the bubbles in her bath.
   “We’ll be good, right Mimo?” Chan asked, and she responded with an enthusiastic “yes!”
Her loud “bye, Mommy!” echoed several times as she splashed in the water. Y/N walked out, calling back a “bye” before finally heading out the door.
As she stepped outside and the morning sun hit her, Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her.
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   “Okay Mimo what should we do today?” Chan leaned against the counter, having just cleaned his daughter’s face from the remnants of their breakfast.
   “Snackies!” Mimi wriggled in her seat, pointing towards the cabinet where her mother usually kept the snacks, out of her reach.
The father chuckled, dropping his head. If he stared at her face any longer, he might cave and actually give her the snacks, which he was specifically instructed not to.
   “You just ate baby. Let’s do something else, hmm?” He ignored her slight pout, picking her up under one arm and hauling her into the living room like a purse. Her fit of giggles was immediate, a distraction that worked like a charm.
The first hour of their morning was spent watching one of those random cartoons Mimi had stumbled upon one day and had become obsessed with since. Chan watched intently, trying to make sense of the random storyline and wondering why his three-year-old wasn’t confused by what was going on.
By the second hour, Mimi had moved on to clattering her toy tea set loudly in the living room. Chan glanced up every few minutes from his place at the dining table, busy with some work on his laptop but keeping an eye on his daughter. When the clattering stopped, he looked up to find Mimi staring at the TV, almost hypnotized.
   “Daddy! Paint!” The child shouted, running to him and tugging at his hands to bring him to the television.
He looked at the bright screen, trying to understand what had his daughter so excited. Mimi was jumping at his side, tugging on his hand. Chan placed his phone down on the coffee table and turned his full attention to the television, his brows furrowing as he tried to make sense of what was happening.
A puppet dressed as a painter stood in front of a canvas with “Picasso’s Corner” messily painted on it.
Great.
Chan wondered how he was going to distract her this time. He knew she was even more excited about painting because she had recently been given a paint set from one of his close friends, which she hadn’t had a chance to use yet.
Stupid Hyunjin, Chan thought.
But as he glanced down at Mimi’s pleading puppy eyes, he immediately caved. He couldn’t blame himself. He was already heartbroken from the first time he had ignored her request for snacks. How could he deny her this fun activity that she was so excited about?
So, Chan cleared the dining table, spreading newspaper across it to protect the wood from any potential spills, which were bound to happen, even if the paints were labeled as washable. Mimi was beaming in her seat, wriggling with excitement and holding brushes in both hands. Chan chuckled at her enthusiasm, handing her one of the mini canvases that came with the kit.
   “You excited Little Picasso?” He laughed, tearing away the plastic and packaging from the bottles of paint.
Another nickname added to Chan’s list of endless, adorable things he called his daughter. Even Mimo came from their game of hide-and-seek, which was strictly called “Finding Mimo” in their household.
   “Yes! So excited!” Mimi’s eyes were wide, and her grin was the biggest Chan had seen in a long time, melting his heart with her adorable expression.
True to her new nickname, Little Picasso dove right in, her brush creating blobs and streaks of green, red, and yellow on the blank canvas. Of course, the paint quickly spread to her fingers, the newspaper, and even her face. Chan noticed the splatter on her dress and quickly checked the label on the paint bottle to confirm it was indeed washable. He sighed in relief when he saw that it was.
   “Daddy, blue please!” Mimi handed him an unopened bottle still covered in its film.
As Chan began to unwrap it, twisting open the cap and removing the silver foil inside, his cell phone rang loudly across the room. He strided over to the coffee table, setting the opened paint bottle that he unconsciously brought with him, down and quickly picked up his phone.
It was a call from his friend, and Chan was already distracted, walking away from the table, and the paint bottle, and the white rug underneath it all. His eyes were fixed on the television, which continued to play in the background while he and Mimi had started their painting activity at the dining area.
Mimi’s eyes widened as she watched the blue paint bottle tip over from the wind of Chan’s swift turn, spilling its contents into a bright pool beneath it. The vivid color began to trickle down onto the rug, leaving a streak of blue that spread across the white and seeped into the fur.
The toddler gasped, sitting up in her chair.
   “Daddy!” Mimi’s voice rang out, her paint-smeared fingers covering her mouth in surprise.
Her shout made Chan look at her, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of her paint-splattered face. But quickly masked in confusion, as he followed her gaze and was shocked to see the blue puddle spreading across the rug he swore wouldn’t get ruined anytime soon.
   “I’ll call you back.” He muttered into the phone.  
Chan rushed to the table, grabbing the blue bottle, now slippery with paint. His frantic hands tried to contain the spill that was freely flowing over the edge of the coffee table.
   “Shit.” He grumbled.
   “Shit—Mimo, pass me a paper towel, please!” He shouted over his shoulder, watching as the toddler scrambled to get out of her seat.
But as Mimi climbed out of her seat, the paper plate that Chan had used as a makeshift paint palette fell to the ground with a splat.
   “Oops.” The child muttered, glancing up to look at her father, who bit back.
   “It’s okay baby” Chan said, trying to keep his voice calm despite the growing chaos. “Just bring Daddy the paper towels, please.”
He wasn’t sure what he was trying to salvage at this point. The bottle had already emptied its contents onto the table and the carpet. All he was really doing now was playing in the mess, his hands and forearms smeared with blue paint.
Mimi handed him the paint-stained paper towels, finger-prints from her own messy hands. The toddler eyes filled with curiosity as she watched him dab at the remaining blue pool.
   “Mommy’s carpet is messy.” She stated the obvious, her feet squishing against the blue liquid on the furry rug as she played in it.
   “I’ll clean over there!” She announced, grabbing some paper towels and running toward the mess she had made back there.
   “Mimi wait—”
But of course, she didn’t stop. Her blue footprints marked every step she took. Chan could only watch in dismay as the mess spread and his daughter, now resembling a walking paintbrush, continued her impromptu cleanup.
He inhaled deeply, trying to keep himself calm.
   “I’m freaking screwed.” He muttered to himself.
────────────────────────
She hummed on her way back, feeling light and refreshed after a delightful morning with friends and the emotional moment of being asked to be her best friend’s bridesmaid. Y/N was glad she hadn’t canceled, as it had been a much-needed breath of fresh air. Plus, she had learned a surprising lesson about motherhood that morning.
But when she entered the house, which was eerily quiet except for the distant animated voice from the television, she narrowed her brows in confusion.
   “I’m home!” She announced, trading her shoes for house slippers.
Before she could even make it past the threshold, Chan slid to a stop in front of her, arms extended to block her path. Y/N stared at her husband in surprise. Parts of his face was smeared in blue, his fingers stained with what used to be paint.
   “Please don’t be mad. I’m sorry.” He pleaded, a guilty expression all over his face.
The stunned wife slowly narrowed her gaze, nudging past him. “What happened—”
And she didn’t get to finish her sentence. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight. Blue splashes covered the rug, vibrant against its white fur. There were blue footprints and red and yellow handprints on the dining table, the chairs, and even the tissue roll holder. Streaks of spillage marked the dark floorboards, cleaned haphazardly.
   “It’s my fault. I put the paint on the table and got distracted, Mimo didn’t do anything.”
Mimi, who had been sent to another room and instructed to count to one hundred, decided she had counted enough. Although she struggled to recall numbers beyond thirteen, she had given up trying to continue. After hearing the mention of her name, she stepped into the living room, observing the quiet, tense atmosphere with big eyes.
   “Is daddy in trouble?” She asked, her small voice full of concern, even though most of the mess was unintentionally her doing.
Y/N turned to find her daughter, now more of a mess than when she had left her. It was clear Chan had tried to clean her up, but she was still stained with paint.
Washable my ass. Chan had muttered, once he had realized the paint wasn’t coming off easily.
Chan thinned his lips, attempting a smile at the toddler, but his eyes stayed anxiously fixed on Y/N.
It wasn’t until Y/N laughed, fingers covering her mouth to stifle her loud cackle at the ridiculousness of the situation, that Chan stood there dumbfounded.
He swore she had finally snapped, that her patience had broken. That she had finally lost it.
   “Oh baby, look at you!” Y/N crouched down, arms outstretched for her three-year-old to come into.
Mimi ran into her mother’s arms, mirroring her laughter.
   “Are…you not upset?” Chan questioned, still not fully convinced.
Y/N glanced back at the rug, then back at her husband.
   “Should I be? I mean, it already happened. There’s not much we can do about it now, can we?” She smiled at the child in her arms, lifting Mimi’s jaw to take in her paint-streaked face up close.
And she was laughing again.
Her words echoed Chan’s usual calm demeanor, but coming from her, they made him nervous. He stood silent, unsure of what to make of her reaction.
Sensing his continued worry, Y/N stood and walked over to him, examining him as she had Mimi.
   “You two look like smurfs.” She said, stifling another laugh as she took his stained fingers, drawing his knuckles closer.
He sighed, gripping her hand gently.
   “You’re really not upset? I know you were really worried about that rug.” He seemed disappointed in himself, upset that he couldn’t prevent the mess.
Y/N shook her head, smiling as she looked back at the ruined rug.
   “Not upset, I promise.” 
Chan wondered what had brought this sudden change in her demeanor. He was sure she would have berated him with “I told you so’s” or remained silent until her disappointment simmered down. That she would have regret ever leaving.
   “I learned something at brunch today.” Y/N said as she returned to Mimi’s side, starting to undo the buttons of her dress for a proper cleanup.
   “All my other friends were telling me about their children and the havoc they caused. I was surprised that our Mimi was an angel compared to the tales I heard.” The mother laughed.
   “Then thinking back to the disasters our daughter caused, I realized our Mimi isn’t reckless, she’s just a little clumsy.” She looked up at Chan, who raised an eyebrow.
   “That’s what I’ve been telling you for so long.” Chan said, though he sounded slightly bemused.
Y/N shook her head. “Yeah, I wasn’t fully convinced.”
Chan sighed, crossing his arms over his chest, still smiling.
   “But you better clean all of this up.” She added, her brows furrowing with the stern expression Chan had expected much earlier.
   “Yes ma’am, I’ll leave this place spotless.” Chan nodded.
While the parents talked, the toddler got closer to the painted rug, crouching down to see if the blue had dried, much like the smudges and streaks on her face and her dress. But it hadn’t, and she stared at it on her finger.
   “Shit!” She exclaimed loudly.
Both parents snapped their heads toward Mimi. Chan, who had momentarily forgotten in his earlier state of frenzy, of how impressionable his daughter was, gulped nervously. He could feel the hot glare his wife was shooting him, too scared to meet her angry gaze.
   “I-it was the creepy Picasso puppet.” Chan attempted to lie, though it was obvious it wouldn’t work.
Her raised brow and crossed arms were clear indication of it.
   “Hey, at least she used it in the right context.” Chan continued, trying to lighten the mood, his wife only stared at him in disbelief.
   “Clean. Now.” Y/N ordered, walking over to pick up her Little Picasso for her second bath, with the tell-tale signs of another cheesy grin on her face.
Seeing which Chan also broke into a grin.
   “Wash me next!” He couldn’t help but laugh, rushing after the mother-daughter duo, his wife playfully pushing him away with a nudge of her arm.
And even though Mimi’s painting skills were what her father liked to call “abstract,” the little canvas of her red, yellow, and green blobs was definitely a family portrait according to Chan, was hung proudly in her parents’ room.
   “A colorful disaster that captured the essence of our family. Our Little Picasso is a genius!”
Again, a proud father’s words we might have to fact check. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ end.
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the-original-skipps · 2 months
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|| When you move in together. || Wind Breaker ||
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sooo uh funny story I actually posted this but it kinda disappeared i really tried finding it so i decided to post it again lol @kajibunny this is for you my love!! you’re the absolute sweetest <333
: Sakura Haruka. Suo Hayato. Kaji Ren. Umemiya Hajime.
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❥ Sakura teared up when you asked him if he wanted to move in together. For the first time in his lonely life he will get to share a home with someone and that someone is none other than his most precious person in the entire world, you. Days leading up to the move, he had certain doubts plaguing his mind that maybe you'd come to regret this decision but you quickly eased his worries with your soothing words and gentle touch. Sakura doesn’t own a lot of belongings himself but the things he treasures are the things given to him by you. So, there wasn’t much to pack for him so instead he spent his time helping you pack your belongings. Stars literally shone in his eyes when he entered his new home, you giggled seeing him run around, inspecting every corner - like a child seeing his first snow. He was excited to unpack everything, asking you where things should go. When you called him out on his enthusiasm, he flushed red, stammering as he tried to deny. You don’t have to do any of the heavy lifting because Sakura insists on doing them all. Once you both settle in, in a rare moment he boldly pulls you into a tight embrace - his eyes glowing with warmth. “Thank you for giving me a place to call home...”
“Look! It’s our very own kitchen! Woah, this bathtub is huge! Is it really okay to call this mine…?”
❥ Suo did not express his happiness by jumping around or shouting at the top of his lungs. However, if he were to describe his reaction to your acceptance, that is what he felt inside when you agreed to move in with him. He'd nod along smiling as you rant on about the many things you'd like to do in the new house. A thought did cross his mind into hiring movers to do all the work (he’s a rich boy), but he figured it would be more personal and meaningful if you both did it. Suo has everything packed neatly and labeled, so you’d both have an easier time settling in. He’d always ask you if this is where you’d like this thing to be put here or not, valuing your opinion above his own. Suo does not mind if the curtains are of a certain color or if a certain furniture has a high price range. He’ll happily provide you with a card to spend to your heart’s delight. He’s just content to see a smile on your beautiful face. It really did not take long for you both to settle in, with strength remaining. Suo had everything planned out from the very beginning after all. Afterwards, Suo hugs you from behind as you both silently bask in the atmosphere of your new home.
“The sofa looks wonderful, my love. Though it would look better with you laying on it.”
❥ Kaji cracked his lollipop in one bite alone, when you asked him if he wanted to move in with you. It took him a moment to cool down his red face and racing mind, to properly give you an answer. When he said yes, you jumped onto him in excitement causing him to hurriedly catch you in his arms with a surprised yell. He wouldn’t voice it aloud but he was just as excited as you are. As he was packing each of his belongings into a box, his mind couldn’t help daydream of the life you’d share together. To wake up every morning to your beautiful face when the sun rises and to kiss you goodnight every night when the stars glimmer. You would no longer have to be separated from one another. He only snapped out of his daydream when the sound of a shutter came from your phone.
“You look adorable smiling to yourself. What were you thinking about?”
“Huh?! I wasn’t s-smiling! Delete that!!”
Instead of his usual headphones, Kaji opted to play music on a speaker, both his and your favorite songs while you both unpacked. You giddy moving around your new home, moving along to the music. Once your favorite song came on you couldn’t help but pull a reluctant Kaji along to dance. After a long day of unpacking, you both lay tired in the middle of your living room side by side - his hand tightly holding yours.
“Where do you want this to go? H-Hey, are you listening to me..?!”
❥ Umemiya is a picture of a man who received the greatest news of his life when you accepted his offer to move in. You had to keep him from bouncing off the walls with his enthusiasm. Not before him pulling you into the tightest hug, real happiness gleaming in his eyes. Umemiya being excited was an understatement, everyday leading up to the big move he would excitedly gush to you of all the new things he would like to do together with you. All the vegetables and fruits he would like to grow in his new garden and maybe even get a pet together. His excitement radiating off of him like the bright sun. You'd have to monitor the packing process because Umemiya would like to stuff everything into one box or misplace a few things. However, when it comes time to move your stuff in he'll quickly usher you to sit down while he brings every box in, despite your protests. He'd even take his shirt off when it gets hot. Even when Umemiya is in the other room, you could hear his animated talking - bringing a smile to your face with how adorable he is. He did not show a moment of tiredness throughout the whole move but once you're both in bed together he pulls you in close with a smile on his face, - drifting asleep.
"Imagine how many get togethers we can have! A barbeque in the summer and a hot pot party in the winter...!"
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aestrayla · 9 months
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cherries or peaches? ft. obey me! brothers
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summary: do they prefer ass or boobs? ft. obey me! brothers x f!reader
cw: highly suggestive, mdni, fluff??, pet names (darling, sweetheart), fondling, groping, MY HUMOUR..
word count: 1.5k
a/n: sorry for some of them being so short, it was actually kind of challenging trying to elaborate on the ideas rather than just plainly stating them out as they are, but i hope u still enjoy them just as much as i enjoyed writing them ^^ also, don't mind my shitty humour in the last two + i haven’t written for most of these characters before so they might sound off idk??
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at first, it was hard to tell whether lucifer preferred ass or boobs.
he would always reply to you with a, "i prefer them both, equally," or a, "why should i choose when i can like them both?"
it drove you crazy because you clearly asked him to choose either one or the other. he was always dodging the question and at some point, you even got the brothers in on this, some bets were made too.
"it's obvious he likes ass more, have you seen the way he looks at y/n when they're wearing that skirt he bought for them?"
"nah he totally like boobs more, he can't keep his eyes off ‘em whenever they're wearin' a tight shirt!"
soon you started to take these signs into account, wearing much more revealing things to try and catch a reaction out of him, but to your demise, he never seemed to crack.
after weeks of bet-making and skin-revealing lucifer had finally had enough. the two of you were both lying in bed, facing one another while his arms were wrapped around your waist.
"y/n," he whispered.
"mhm?" you hummed in response.
"isn't it obvious i like these better?"
he pulled himself closer to you as his face buried against your chest. oh you thought. he had always found comfort sleeping against you like this, his head stuffed between your boobs while his arms wrapped around you tightly, that it became natural and you had almost forgot he did it.
"shit— you should've told me earlier! now we've all lost our bets to mammon!" you whined.
you could hear his muffled chuckles vibrate against your body as you wrapped your arms around his head, squeezing him closer.
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mammon is 100% an ass-loving guy, no questions asked.
with mammon, no matter what you're doing, what you're wearing, where you are, or who you're with, he just loves touching you all the damn time.
whether you're walking through the halls of RAD to your next class or taking a stroll through the devildom while window shopping, he won't hesitate to sneak his hands up your skirt to feel your plump ass.
"mammon stop, we're in public!" you glare as you swat his hands away.
"’m sorry can't help it, just gotta have my hands all over ya!"
oh well, maybe next time he’d be lucky enough to sneak his hands further down your skirt and— who knows, you might just find yourself begging him for more.
and if it's just the two of you in your own company, you'll always find that his hands like to slip past the waistband of your panties just to lay onto your cheeks, rubbing and squeezing at the plump flesh. always smiling in delight as you squirm under his carnal touch.
as much as you like to complain, he always swears that "it's just comfortable!" or "my hands were just cold!"
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there is no doubt in my mind that leviathan wouldn't be on team cherries.
he always lets you sit on his lap whenever he's grinding a video game or on an anime-watching marathon. a recent occurrence you've taken note of is that, almost as if it's a reflex, he'll always end up having a hand or two resting on your boobs, casually squeezing at it as if he owns the thing.
"you must be real comfortable there, levi." you teased, motioning to where his hand laid.
"huh— OH! um, I-I'M SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN TO!" he shot his hands up in defense. "it's just really soft… and warm... I'm sorry y/n." his face was bright red.
"it's fine, i was just teasing you, silly!"
there was also a time where you scolded levi for owning one of those mouse pads where ruri-chan’s the characters boobs would be squishy.
in desperate need to make it up to you, he custom ordered a version with you on it, only because he swears out of all his waifus, you're his absolute favourite.
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it was a rainy night, and in the comfort of the library beside a crackling fireplace, you were messing around on your d.d.d while satan was next to you, reading what you assumed to be a mystery book.
"hey satan?" you put your d.d.d down for a moment, turning to look at him.
"hm?" he hummed, while keeping his eyes glued to the page.
"do you prefer ass or boobs?"
he pauses to look up at you and closes his book, placing it beside him, all while sighing.
"what does it look like i prefer?" he deadpans.
you break his eye contact as you look down to see his left hand buried under your sweater, which was fondling with your boob this entire time.
"so... boobs?"
he replies while picking his book up again, "yes darling, don't ask such foolish questions."
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asmo loves boobs. your boobs to be specific.
don't blame him, your boobs are just so pretty and he loves pretty things.
the way they sit when you're wearing a low-cut garment, or the way they shine when you're having a bubble bath together. he loves it all.
as you know, asmo loves pampering you and surprises you with random gifts whenever he finds something that he'd love to see you in.
one night as he's doing your hair after a bath, he suddenly remembers something and stands to walk to his closet.
"the other day when i was shopping at majolish, i found this super pretty bra i thought you'd look just gorgeous in!" he approaches you with a box wrapped neatly with a ribbon.
as you open the box, you set your eyes on a beautiful red laced bra.
"are you sure i'd look good in this?"
"you look perfect in everything sweetheart, you know i’d never lie about that."
he's always buying you pretty things to wear, and trust me when i say, this definitely isn’t the first bra he's ever gotten you.
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beel could not care less about choosing between your ass or boobs. they're both squishy and feel nice in his hands so it didn't really matter to him. well, not until today.
getting up from the edge of the bed and turning your heel to face him, you asked, "did you know a new cafe opened up in the devildom recently?"
"really? what food do they sell there?" he asked, his eyes looked as if there were stars in them.
"well apparently their cakes are a specialty, they're pretty popular for it."
"cake?" he drooled, "i love cake! hey we should go to the cafe right now, i'm starving." he sat up from the edge of the bed, drooling like a puppy dog.
little did he know, you decided to be a little jokester today.
"oh you're starving right now? then here," you turn around, bending over.
"what are you doing y/n?"
you turn your head back to look at his confused expression, "you said you were starving right? the cake's right here," you pointed to your ass.
he stares at you for a moment. then at your ass. then back at you again.
"so there's no cafe, is there?" he wipes his drool away with the back of his hand.
"nope. but there sure is cake," you smile cheekily while shuffling closer.
he sighs while grabbing ahold of your thighs, dragging you just inches away from his lips, "you're lucky i like this kind of cake too."
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as long as he can sleep on them, belphie will like them no matter what. so when it comes to choosing between your ass or boobs, it can be a hard decision just to choose one.
belphie's "sleepability" criteria is: soft, warm and comfortable; and your boobs and ass were equal competition.
he sighs, "if i have to choose one over the other, i'd rather sleep on your ass all day" his reasoning being because your ass has more of an "even surface" compared to your boobs.
if you're ever just lounging around the house of lamentation, on your stomach specifically, within seconds you'll feel belphie's arms wrap around your legs while he lays his head onto you.
its crazy how instantly he falls asleep on you. he'd stay like that forever if you didn't have to get up to pee or because your legs fall numb.
"c'mon belphie, i needa pee so bad!" you squirm.
"mmmphh," he grumbles, half-asleep, while hugging onto your legs even tighter.
"hurry up or i'll fart on your face!" you threaten him jokingly.
"OKAY, OKAY!" he shoots up from his position and is scrambling to the edge of the bed. you laugh in response because it works every time.
"and i was having a good dream too!" he scowled, while rubbing his left eye from sleep.
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lmk if u guys want a part two ft. the datables!
©2023 aestrayla. do not modify, copy, translate or share.
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undertheorangetree · 9 months
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In The Woods Somewhere
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Summary- Coriolanus does not intend on returning to the Capitol alone.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ DUBCON Female reader. TBOSAS spoilers technically. Reader is essentially Lucy Gray. Porn with plot. Toxic relationship. Possessive Coriolanus. Chasing. Biting. Restraint. Choking. Edging. Overstimulation. Fingering. Cunnilingus. P in V sex.
Author’s Note- Happy holidays! This is not our regularly scheduled programming but I have Hunger Games/Tom Blyth brain rot so here’s this monster. Please heed the warnings and link to the full fic on AO3 below
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She knows the moment he looks up at her, rifle clutched in his hands, that he will not be coming north with her. Not anymore, not now that he has the one thing tying him to this place well in hand.
She isn't a fool. She knows that his feelings for her played only a small role in his agreeing to come with her but she had been willing to overlook that. When he had cupped her face in his hand and swore that he would join her, that they would escape Panem- and their collective noose- together, she had seen the hesitation there. Coryo was not a man built for nature, no more than he was built for the districts, but she loves him and so she had ignored it. Twisted it into something romantic and noble in her head, that he would give up all this, that he would leave behind everything for her. He had promised her earnestly and she had taken him at his word.
But with the look on his face now, some potent mix of elation and relief washing over him like a wave, she knows she never stood a chance.
"It's the gun," he says, and she hates the tone he uses. The way he almost breathes the words, the way he looks up at her with the ghost of a smile on his face. Had she had doubts about what the guns would inspire in him, the look on his face is enough to prove her right.
"The one you fired at Mayfair," she says with a nod, crossing her arms over her chest. It feels almost protective now, as if she can safeguard her breaking heart. "Spruce must have known about this place too. I guess it's not as secret as I thought. We hide that and you're free."
"No more loose ends."
The way he says it, his hands tightening on the barrel as he looks down at the rifle, makes her blood run cold. This is all he wanted, nothing short of a dream come true. She doesn't like it, her reaction just as much as his own, and she fights to push passed it. Tells herself that there is nothing wrong here, not really, that he is entitled to some semblance of excitement, but she can feel that unease gnawing at her gut. It feels like an omen. A warning.
She grins, hoping to seem more at ease than she truly is, and feels her nose scrunch up teasingly as she says, "Besides me."
It's the wrong thing to do. Immediately, he goes rigid, eyes darting up to look at her and she sees the distrust there, akin to a beaten dog. It wouldn't be as startling as it is if not for their conversation in the woods not even an hour before. He is willing to kill if backed far enough into a corner and is that not what she has just done? Reminded him of the power she held over him with this knowledge? Backed him into a corner? And just like that beaten dog, she can see that he is only a moment away from snapping at her with pearly white teeth.
"You wouldn't... tell anyone?"
She feels her eyebrows draw together, all attempt at joking gone. It hurts a little, what seems to be a complete lack of faith in her, and it's almost surprising. Almost. "Course not."
But would she? She doesn’t really know now. The fact that he believes she could, as if she could exchange his freedom for her own, feels like the final nail in the coffin. She could forgive his dislike of the idea of heading north, the relief on his face when he saw the guns. But what he said in the woods- three’s enough for me- and his distrust of her now… she doesn’t think she’s safe with him. All their talk of trust, of how he agreed it was worth more than love, thrown to the wind all for the sake of a duffle bag full of rifles. Because just as easily as those gun could buy her freedom, they could secure his own too. One small step toward returning to his life back in the Capitol. He was going to leave before killing Mayfair, she knew that. And if there’s no weapon linking him to the crime, he could. Because no matter how badly she wants to believe he wants a life with her, she thinks he wants his old one back that much more.
And she isn’t sure just what he is willing to sacrifice to get rid of all those loose ends.
She feels herself smile again, moving on autopilot to fetch the knife she knows is on the shelf near the door. It doesn’t reach her eyes but she isn’t looking at him, gripping the handle of the knife a little too tightly. “I think I’m gonna go dig up some katniss. There’s a good patch down by the lake, don’t know when we’ll come across it again.”
His suspicion only grows at that, lips parted and head tilted in question, and she knows she needs to go. Though his finger has not yet shifted toward the trigger, it hasn’t moved away from it either. He has been a Peacekeeper for no more than two months, but that was more than enough time to pick up all he needed to know about firing a gun. Even if his aim is shoddy, it wouldn’t take much effort to aim in her general direction and hold down on a trigger. She had said it herself, she is the only one left who knew the truth about Mayfair’s death- her murder. If he wanted to go back to the Capitol, he needed to be damn sure there wasn’t a chance of his time here coming back to haunt him. As it is now, she is the only thing standing between him and the Snow penthouse.
“Thought you said they weren’t ready yet,” he protests, that uncertainty still more than apparent.
She prays her smile doesn’t look as forced as it feels when her eyes flick up to look at his handsome face, doing what she can to seem nonchalant. “The world changes awful fast.”
She pulls the door open, the rain pounding against the porch outside, when he calls her name. Her grip on the knife tightens a hair more before she’s turning back to look at him, keeping her eyes wide and innocent as she tilts her head in question. She knows she hesitated, knows he caught her if the look on his face is anything to go by, but rather than let her panic consume her, she focuses on his eyes. The beautiful, brilliant blue of his eyes. That may be the thing she misses most about him, after all this.
“It’s still raining.”
As if a little rain is enough to stop her from saving her own life.
“Well, I’m not made out of sugar,” she grins, taking one last look at him before shutting the door, placing some kind of barrier between them.
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Read the rest here :)
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kentobb · 2 months
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The Bet (Part Two)
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Characters: College!Sukuna x Female Reader
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Foul language, Kiss. Sukuna being an idiot.
Author’s note: Thank you for everyones comment! It meant a lot for me. Did a part two thanks to the feedback 🩷 I love reading your comments. Feel free to leave a feedback or how you feel in the comments.
Part 01 Part 03 Part 04
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Sukuna walked into the library, his heart pounding a little faster than usual. He was there under the pretense of needing help with his project, but deep down, he knew he didn’t really need it. He just needed to make progress with you on this stupid bet with Gojo. As he walked through the aisles of books, he spotted you from a distance. You were sitting peacefully, engrossed in a book. The sight of you so absorbed in your reading made him feel a pang of guilt. He was about to disrupt your tranquility for his own selfish reasons.
He approached you quietly, not wanting to startle you. When you looked up and saw him, you greeted him with a warm smile, ready to help. Sukuna couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed. What kind of person was he to use you like this? Would you mind? Would you not mind?
“Hey,” he said, trying to keep his tone casual. “Thanks for agreeing to help me.”
“It’s no problem,” you replied, closing your book. “What do you need help with?”
“Uh, just some research for our project,” he said, sitting down next to you.
You nodded and opened your laptop, quickly pulling up some documents. “Alright, let’s start with the basics. What part are you struggling with?”
He glanced at the screen, feeling a bit like a fraud. “I guess I’m having trouble narrowing down the sources. There’s just so much information.”
You smiled and began explaining the research process to him, breaking it down into simple steps. You had a way of making even the most complex topics seem easy to understand. As you talked, Sukuna found himself genuinely enjoying the conversation. Your voice was soothing, and your explanations were clear and concise.
“See, it’s not that hard,” you said, looking at him. “You just need to organize your sources and make sure they’re credible.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Sukuna said, smiling. “Thanks…you’re really good at this.”
You blushed slightly. “I’m glad I could help.”
You continued working, and Sukuna found himself relaxing more and more. He started cracking jokes, trying to lighten the mood. You giggled at his comments, and he was immediately struck by how beautiful your laughter was. He felt his cheeks warm up and quickly looked back at his laptop, hoping you hadn’t noticed his reaction.
“So, what do you like about reading?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
Your eyes widened, surprised that he is actually making a conversation with you, that he is treating you like a decent human being…as if you were important. Your heart warms at the thought that someone is actually talking to you. You smiled, “I love getting lost in different worlds and stories,” you said, your eyes lighting up. “There’s something magical about books. They let you explore places you’ve never been and meet people you’d never know otherwise…”
“That’s cool,” Sukuna said, genuinely interested. “Maybe we could go book shopping sometime. You could show me some of your favorite authors.”
Sukuna glanced at you, who didn’t seem to take his suggestion seriously. You shrugged and gave a half-hearted smile. “Yeah, okay,” you said, clearly doubtful.
He felt a pang of frustration. “No, really,” he insisted, trying to sound more sincere. “I’ve been meaning to get into reading more. Maybe you could help me find some good books?”
You raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “You’re interested in reading?”
“Yeah, I mean... books are cool,” he said, mentally cursing himself for sounding so unconvincing. He then had a sudden, seemingly brilliant idea. “How about we go book shopping right now?”
You laughed at his suggestion, thinking he was joking. But when you saw the serious expression on his face, your laughter died down. “You’re serious?”
“Totally serious,” he said as he smiled.
You hesitated for a moment, your sixth sense telling to you bail out and go back to your dorm, to drown yourself in books. Your thoughts want to win, telling you that he is just doing this out of petty, that he is just using you—
“Hey…” he said softly, standing up. “Let’s go. It’ll be fun.”
And this time, you decided to ignore your sixth sense. Slowly nodding and smiling, “Okay, if you say so.”
You both left the library and walked to a nearby bookstore. Sukuna was mentally cursing himself the entire way. This was not his scene at all. But as you both entered the store, he found himself distracted by your excitement? Who would have thought that the shy girl who hides herself from the world is smiling and giggling over some books? You moved through the aisles with ease, picking up books, reading the backs, and smiling at titles that intrigued you.
He watched you, feeling a strange lightheartedness. Seeing you so animated, so genuinely happy, was not as unpleasant as he had anticipated. In fact, it was quite the opposite.
“So, what kind of books do you like?” he asked, trying to sound genuinely curious.
“I love fantasy and adventure,” you said, holding up a book with a dragon on the cover. “And sometimes a good mystery.”
He nodded, pretending to be interested. “That sounds cool. What’s that one about?”
You began to explain the plot, your eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. Sukuna found himself smiling, not because of the book, but because of the way you talked about it. Have your voice been always this beautiful? Have you always been this pretty? He picked up a random book and glanced at the back, not really reading the words.
“This one looks interesting,” he said, trying to keep the conversation going.
You looked at the book he was holding and chuckled. “That’s a romance novel, Sukuna.”
He quickly put the book back, feeling embarrassed. “Right, not exactly my style. What would you recommend for a beginner?”
You thought for a moment, then picked out a book and handed it to him. “Try this one. It’s a good start for anyone new to reading.”
He took the book, looking at the cover. “Thanks, bookworm. I’ll give it a shot.”
Both of you walked to the register together, and he paid for the book. As you stepped outside, he noticed a cozy coffee shop across the street. The warm lights and inviting atmosphere seemed like the perfect place to continue the conversation.
“Want to grab a coffee?” Sukuna suggested, surprising himself with how much he wanted to prolong your time together.
You looked pleased and nodded. “Sure, that sounds nice.”
You both walked over to the coffee shop, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeting both of you as you entered. Sukuna wondered what kind of coffee you would order, trying to guess your tastes. When it was his turn, he ordered a black coffee, simple and strong. You, however, surprised him by ordering a hot chocolate.
The cashier rang up the total, and just as you were about to reach for your wallet, Sukuna handed over his card, paying for both of you.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you said, looking a bit flustered.
He shrugged it off, trying to play it cool. “Consider it a thank you for helping me with the project. And the book recommendation.”
You smiled, your cheeks tinged with a slight blush. “Well, thank you, then.”
Both took their drinks and decided to take a walk, sipping and talking about random topics. For the first time in a long time, Sukuna felt genuinely content. Both of you discussed everything from favorite movies to childhood memories. Sukuna found himself opening up more than he expected, and he was amazed at how easy it was to talk to you. As you walked, Sukuna couldn’t help but compare this feeling to his usual encounters with MeiMei and his other hookups. With them, it was always superficial and fleeting. But with you, it felt different. More real, more meaningful.
Eventually you both arrived back at the dorms, and you turned to him with a grateful smile. “Thanks for today, Sukuna. I had a great time.”
Just as you were about to leave, Sukuna impulsively grabbed your arm, causing you to look up at him with those doe eyes that always made him feel like he was going to melt. He hesitated for a moment, feeling a strange mix of nervousness and excitement.
“Hey, sorry, can I have your number?” he asked, his voice a bit softer than usual.
You blushed and looked down, shyness making you even more endearing. You nodded and took his phone, carefully entering your contact information. When you handed it back to him, fingers brushing slightly, sending a jolt of electricity through him.
“Here you go,” you said, your voice almost a whisper.
He looked at the new contact in his phone and couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, bookworm. I’ll text you later.”
You nodded and you chuckled over your new nickname, still blushing. “Okay, see you.”
As Sukuna walked back to his dorm, he felt an unusual sense of happiness. It wasn’t just that he had a good time—he had plenty of fun at parties and with friends. This was different. He felt a genuine connection, something he hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever.
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Sukuna stepped into his apartment, feeling strangely lighthearted. He placed the book you had recommended, "The Alchemist," on the kitchen island and headed to the fridge to find something to drink. After rummaging through the contents, he settled on a cold soda. Just as he closed the fridge door, Yuuji jumped out from behind it with a loud "Boo!"
"Jesus, Yuuji!" Sukuna exclaimed, nearly dropping his drink. "What the fuck, man?"
Yuuji burst into laughter, clutching his sides. "You should've seen your face, bro! Priceless!"
Sukuna rolled his eyes, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, yeah, hilarious."
Yuuji’s eyes drifted to the book on the island. He squinted, recognizing the title, and then smirked. "Wait a minute... Is that a book? Sukuna, since when do you read books?"
Sukuna felt a blush creeping up his neck. "I read," he muttered defensively. "Stop being stupid.”
Yuuji snorted. "You read, huh? Bullshit. You don’t even read what you eat.”
Sukuna glared at his brother, but Yuuji's smirk only widened. "Saw you today at the library… with this girl… what was her name again? Y/N? Yeah… Y/N.”
The blush on Sukuna’s face deepened, and he struggled to maintain his composure. "We're just working on a project. That’s it."
Yuuji wasn't buying it. He leaned in closer, waggling his eyebrows. "Sure… does that project include going to bookstores and coffee shops? I saw you, idiot. I was buying some shoes next to that bookstore.”
Before Sukuna could come up with a retort, Choso walked in, catching the tail end of the conversation. "What's going on here?"
Yuuji turned to him, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "Guess what? Sukuna’s been hanging out with the bookworm. And he bought a book… because he “reads.” He said sarcastically
Choso raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Sukuna doesn’t even read the bills—”
Yuuji laughed, “Right? That’s what I said!”
"It's not like that," Sukuna protested, feeling cornered. "We're just working on a project together, and she recommended the book. That's all."
Choso nodded slowly, his expression turning mischievous. "Sure….”
Yuuji laughed, clapping Sukuna on the back. "Come on, Kuna, you can tell us. Do you like her?"
Sukuna could feel his face burning. "It's not like that," he insisted again. "We’re just...classmates."
Choso and Yuuji exchanged knowing looks, clearly enjoying their brother’s discomfort. "Sure, sure," Choso said. "But just so you know, if you need any dating advice, your little brothers are here to help."
“She seems like a good girl." Yuuji added with a wink. "I bet dad would like her.”
Sukuna groaned, wishing he could disappear. "You guys are the worst."
Yuuji grinned. "That's what brothers are for. So, when's your next study date?"
"It's not a date," Sukuna grumbled. "And I'm not telling you."
Choso chuckled. "Alright, keep your secrets. Just don’t get too distracted from your actual project."
Sukuna rolled his eyes. "I swear, you guys are so fucking annoying.”
Yuuji and Choso exchanged another amused glance but let the subject drop, for now. Sukuna grabbed his book and retreated to his room, trying to escape their teasing.
When he got to his room, he sat down on his bed, still holding the book and his phone with your number on it. He realized he was smiling like an idiot, but he didn’t care.
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Sukuna found himself smiling at his phone more often than he'd like to admit. You and him had started texting regularly, and he genuinely enjoyed the conversations. You are easy to talk to, and he found himself sharing more about his day than he ever had with anyone else.
He liked updating you on his progress with "The Alchemist," surprising even himself with how invested he'd become in the story. He shared memes, too. You had a surprisingly sharp sense of humor, and your texts always made him laugh.
During practice, Sukuna would sneak glances at his phone, chuckling at your latest meme or comment. His teammates noticed, and curiosity buzzed among them.
"Yo, Sukuna, who are you texting so much?" Geto asked one afternoon, wiping sweat from his forehead.
Sukuna shrugged nonchalantly. "Just a friend."
Gojo, ever the instigator, leaned in with a smirk. "Is it MeiMei? Got a booty call lined up or something?"
Sukuna's smile didn't waver, and he simply shook his head. "Nope."
Gojo raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the genuine smile on Sukuna's face. "Hmm, really now? That smile of yours seems pretty genuine. Are you sure it’s not someone special?"
Sukuna looked up, meeting Gojo's eyes. He knew his friend was fishing for information, but he wasn't about to give in. "Just a friend," he repeated, but the slight blush on his cheeks didn't go unnoticed.
As practice ended and they all headed to the locker room, Gojo exchanged a glance with Geto. "What do you think?" he whispered.
Geto grinned. "I think our boy might actually be falling for someone. And it's definitely not MeiMei."
Back at his apartment, Sukuna sprawled on the sofa, phone in hand. He shot off another text to you, telling you about a particularly funny moment from practice. Almost immediately, your response popped up, and he couldn't help but smile again.
Sukuna: "You won't believe what happened at practice today. Gojo tried to dunk and ended up flat on his face. Classic."
Bookworm :) : "Haha, I can totally picture that. Is he okay?"
Sukuna: "Yeah, he's fine. Just bruised his ego a bit."
Bookworm :): "Poor Gojo. Btw, how's the book going? Any new revelations?"
Sukuna: "Actually, yeah. I'm starting to see why you like it so much. It's kind of... inspiring."
Bookworm :) : "Told you. It's a great read."
Sukuna: "You're a great recommender. Maybe you should suggest my next read."
Bookworm :): "I have a few ideas in mind. But only if you promise to actually read them."
Sukuna: "Deal."
As he put his phone down, Sukuna's thoughts drifted to you. You were different from anyone he'd ever known—intelligent, kind, and genuinely interested in the things he had to say.
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The morning sun filtered through the classroom windows as students filed in, preparing for another day of lectures and notes. Sukuna was already seated, tapping his pen against his notebook, when Mahito walked over, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.
"Hey, Sukuna," Mahito said, leaning against Sukuna's desk. "Big party today at my place. Spread the word, yeah?"
Sukuna nodded, matching Mahito's grin. "Got it. Should be a blast."
As Mahito walked away, Sukuna's eyes drifted across the room until they landed on you. You were quietly arranging your things, completely unaware of the whirlwind of thoughts running through his mind. He knew it wasn’t your usual scene, but the idea of you being there intrigued him. He took a deep breath, gathering his courage.
He needed to make progress on the bet, because… this was about the bet… is not that he wanted to see you, is not that the idea of you has been consuming his mind. As he approached you, he tried to act casual.
"Hey," he greeted you, taking the seat next to you.
You looked up from your notes and smiled, a gesture that made his heart skip a beat. "Hi, Sukuna."
He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. "So, there's this party at Mahito's place today since its a long week. I was thinking you should come. It'll be fun."
Your smile faltered slightly, and you looked a bit uneasy. "Oh, um, thanks, but I'm actually busy tonight.”
Sukuna raised an eyebrow. "Busy? Doing what?"
You hesitated, then sighed. "I'm going to a museum. They have a new exhibit I've been wanting to see."
"A museum?" Sukuna repeated, trying to hide his surprise. "You're going with someone?" He asked, his heart pounding.
"No, just me," you giggled, cheeks turning a light shade of pink.
Seeing your flustered made Sukuna feel a pang of guilt. Here he was, trying to use you for a bet, and you were genuinely one of the sweetest people he'd ever met. "Hey, that actually sounds interesting," he said, surprising himself with his sincerity. "Mind if I tag along?"
You blinked, clearly taken aback. "You... want to come to the museum with me?"
"Yeah," Sukuna said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Why not?"
You looked down, clearly embarrassed. "I don't know, Sukuna. I feel like... it might not be your thing." You gave a small smile, “You’re just being nice…you don’t have to do this.”
He laughed softly. "Maybe not, but I'd like to give it a try. Besides, it's better than going to some noisy party, right?"
You bit your lip, contemplating his offer. "Alright, if you're sure."
"I'm sure," he said, his smile genuine. "So, what time should we meet?"
You smiled and he swear he almost melts.
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The afternoon sun was gentle, casting a warm glow on the bustling city streets as Sukuna and you walked side by side towards the train station. You looked adorable in your floral satin dress, your outfit modest and tracing your curves. Your hair was down, two loose strands framing your face. Sukuna found himself captivated by your natural beauty and the soft, unassuming way you carried herself.
You pulled out a map, your fingers tracing the route you needed to take to reach the museum. You glanced up at Sukuna, a shy smile playing on your lips.
"Thanks for coming with me," you said softly, your voice almost drowned out by the city's hum. "I know you had that party you could have gone to instead."
Sukuna shrugged, a small smirk forming on his lips. "There are always going to be other parties. I'm not worried about missing one." He paused, looking at you earnestly. "I want to create new experiences, you know? Do something different for a change."
You looked at him, your eyes wide with surprise and gratitude. "That's really sweet of you."
You continued walking, the conversation flowing more easily now. Sukuna asked you about your favorite museums and what you liked most about them. You animatedly talked about the different exhibits you have seen and the stories behind them. Sukuna found himself genuinely interested, watching your eyes light up with each new topic.
As you sat next to each other on the train, your shoulders occasionally brushing, Sukuna leaned in a little closer. "So, what's the best part of the museum we're going to?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
You thought for a moment, then replied, "I think it's the interactive exhibits. They make you feel like you're part of the story, not just a spectator."
Sukuna nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Sounds interesting. I like the idea of being part of the story."
You smiled, feeling more at ease. "Yeah, it's a lot of fun. I think you'll enjoy it."
When you arrived at the stop, you continued the walk towards the museum. The city was bustling, but you both managed to carve out your own little bubble of conversation and laughter. Sukuna found himself enjoying your company more and more, appreciating the way you saw the world with such enthusiasm and wonder.
At one point, both of you stopped at a small park to rest for a moment. You took out your map again, double-checking their route. Sukuna watched you, amused by your determination. "You really like being prepared, huh?" he teased gently.
You looked up, blushing slightly. "I just don't want us to get lost."
He chuckled. "Don't worry, I'd follow you anywhere."
Your blush deepened, and you quickly turned your attention back to the map. Sukuna found your reaction adorable, and a warm feeling spread through him.
As you approached the museum, Sukuna could see the excitement building in your eyes. You were practically bouncing on your toes, and he couldn't help but smile. It felt good to see you so happy.
"Ready for our adventure?" he asked, holding out his hand.
You hesitated for a moment, then took his hand, fingers warm and soft in his. "Ready," you replied, your smile bright and genuine.
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The party was in full swing at Mahito’s place. Bodies moved to the beat of the music, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat. Mahito and his friends scanned the crowd, puzzled by the absence of Sukuna. Gojo, always observant, finally spotted Yuuji and Choso lounging by the snack table.
He approached them with a smirk. "Hey, you guys seen Sukuna? Mei Mei’s been blowing up his phone, and he’s MIA."
Yuuji, munching on a handful of pretzels, grinned. "Oh, Sukuna? He’s got a date tonight." He chuckled.
Gojo raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A date? With who? The fuck?”
Yuuji leaned in, lowering his voice dramatically. "The bookworm.”
Gojo’s eyes widened with amusement. He couldn’t believe that Sukuna has actually made progress with you. Was Sukuna able to pull anyone he wanted? He thought to himself "You mean Y/N? No way!"
Choso chuckled, shaking his head. "Yup, that's the one. Heard she is a good girl. She is good for Sukuna.”
Mei Mei, standing nearby, overheard the conversation. Her eyes narrowed with jealousy as she processed the information. Without a word, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the party, leaving a trail of stunned onlookers in her wake.
Gojo, oblivious to Mei Mei’s reaction, clapped Yuuji on the shoulder. "Man, Sukuna must be working hard for those hundred bucks, huh?"
Yuuji’s grin faded, replaced by confusion. "What do you mean, hundred bucks?"
Gojo laughed, taking a swig of his drink. "Oh, you didn’t know? We made a bet. Hundred bucks says he can’t hook up with her."
Yuuji’s expression darkened, his hands balling into fists. "Sukuna did what? He put a price on someone’s feelings? On her? Are you guys fucking insane?"
Gojo, realizing he might have said too much, raised his hands defensively. "Hey, it’s just a bet, man. Nothing serious."
Yuuji rolled his eyes as he searched for his phone, “I swear sometimes yours and his brain are there as a decoration.”
Gojo realized that he may have put Sukuna in trouble and tried to ease problem, “Yuuji, come on. It’s just a silly bet.”
But Yuuji was already dialing Sukuna’s number, his face set with determination. When the call went straight to voicemail, he turned to Choso. "We need to find him. Now."
Choso nodded, his playful demeanor gone. The two brothers pushed their way through the crowd, urgency in their steps. Gojo watched them leave, a sense of unease settling in his gut.
“Fuck…”
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The museum was an eclectic mix of contemporary and classical art, its walls adorned with pieces that ranged from the breathtakingly beautiful to the bewilderingly abstract. Sukuna walked beside you, casting sidelong glances at you as you moved from one exhibit to another with an easy grace. He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride, though he was secretly nervous about how the day would unfold.
As you stood in front of a particularly strange piece of modern art—a series of seemingly random splashes of paint on a massive canvas—Sukuna tilted his head, trying to make sense of it. "I don't get it," he admitted, glancing at you. "What's it supposed to mean?"
You laughed softly, a musical sound that made Sukuna's heart skip a beat. "Honestly? I don't get it either," you confessed. "I like to read about the artists and their intentions. Sometimes it helps to understand what they were trying to convey."
Sukuna felt a wave of admiration wash over him. "So, you learn about it to understand it better?"
You nodded. "Exactly. Sometimes things don’t make sense until you dig deeper and get to know the context behind them."
Sukuna found your words resonating with him on a deeper level. He realized that getting to know someone—or something—often required patience and effort. It was a lesson he hadn't fully appreciated until now.
Both of you continued walking through the museum, and Sukuna found himself genuinely interested in the art, largely because of your enthusiasm and insightful commentary. You moved from exhibit to exhibit, discussing the pieces and sharing both thoughts. As you walked, shoulders occasionally brushed against each other, a subtle but intimate connection that neither of you seemed to mind.
He was starting to enjoy this more than he expected.
At one point, both of you stood in front of a serene landscape painting, both of you lost in its tranquility. Sukuna glanced at you, noticing how the light played off your features, giving you an ethereal glow. His heart pounded in his chest, a feeling of warmth spreading through him. He was falling for you, and it was happening faster than he could comprehend.
After you had explored the entire museum, you stepped outside, only to find that it had started to rain. The drops came down heavily, quickly soaking the ground. Both of you looked around for shelter and found a small alcove with a roof that provided some protection from the downpour.
You shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself to stave off the cold. Sukuna, without a second thought, shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. "Here, take this," he said, trying to sound casual despite the fluttering in his chest.
You looked up at him, your doe eyes filled with gratitude. "T-Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.
Seeing you still shivering, Sukuna hesitated for only a moment before he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. "You're still cold," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "This should help."
Your heart raced, your pulse quickening at the unexpected contact and he could feel it. You looked up at him, eyes wide with surprise and something else—something that made Sukuna's heart ache with a strange, new longing.
Without fully understanding what he was doing, Sukuna reached up and gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your soft skin. Your faces were inches apart, and he could feel your breath mingling with his own. In that moment, everything else faded away—the night, the rain, the cold, the world around you. It was just the two of you, lost in a bubble of warmth and closeness.
Slowly, Sukuna leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, a gentle, tentative kiss that quickly deepened as you both gave in to the feelings that had been building between you. Your hands found their way to his chest, clutching at his shirt as if you needed something to anchor herself to reality. This was your first kiss, and it felt like a dream—one that you never wanted to wake up from.
Sukuna felt his heart swell with emotions he hadn't known he was capable of feeling. He kissed you with a tenderness he hadn't shown anyone before, savoring the sweetness of the moment. When both of you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting against each other as you tried to process what had just happened.
Sukuna was speechless, unable to find the right words to convey the overwhelming feelings swirling inside him. He could only look at you, his eyes reflecting the depth of his emotions.
Just then, his phone began to vibrate, breaking the intimate silence between you. Sukuna fumbled to pull it out of his pocket, glancing at the screen to see Yuuji's name flashing. He hesitated, torn between answering the call and staying in this perfect moment with you.
You gave him a gentle smile, understanding the conflict in his eyes. "Um…you should answer it," you said softly, stepping back slightly to give him space.
Sukuna nodded, still feeling dazed. He answered the call, his voice unsteady. "Y-yeah, Yuuji, what's up?"
“We need to talk. And it’s serious. Go home.” Yuuji said and Sukuna is worried about his brother tone.
His mind kept drifting back to the kiss, to the way you had looked at him, to the warmth that still lingered from your embrace.
You both walked in silence toward the train station, the only sounds between you were the patter of rain and your own footsteps. The air was thick with unspoken words, each of you lost in your own thoughts about the kiss. You couldn't help but feel a pang of insecurity. You worried that Sukuna regretted it, that maybe he saw you as a mistake—an odd, nerdy girl who didn't match his level. You bit your lip, glancing at him from the corner of your eye but finding no clues in his expression.
Sukuna, on the other hand, was wrestling with his own confusion. He had never anticipated falling for the girl he was supposed to win over for a bet. His heart felt heavy with the realization that he had genuinely fallen for you, but he was at a loss for how to navigate these new, intense feelings.
When you arrived at the station, boarded the train, still wrapped in silence. The ride felt interminable, each stop only heightening the tension between you. As you finally reached the stop and walked toward the dorms, Sukuna felt a growing sense of dread. He didn't want this night to end, didn't want to leave things unsaid.
Outside your dorm, you began to take off Sukuna's jacket, but he gently stopped you. “Keep it," he said softly, his voice betraying the turmoil inside him.
You looked up at him with your wide, doe-like eyes, then quickly looked away, misinterpreting his silence as rejection. You thought he must be disgusted, regretting the kiss, and that made your heart ache.
Sukuna watched as you fumble with your keys, a million thoughts racing through his mind. He was about to turn away, but then he heard the lock click open. Something snapped inside him, and he muttered, "Fuck it."
In a few quick strides, he was back at your side. He took your face in his hands and kissed you again, this time more passionately, with all the feelings he had been holding back. The rain poured down around you, drenching you both, but neither of you cared. The wind whipped through the corridor, making the moment feel even more intense.
When you finally broke apart, both of yoi breathless, Sukuna rested his forehead against yours. "You're cute," he said, his voice soft and sincere. "Text me when you go to bed, okay?"
Your face lit up with a genuine smile, your worries melting away. You nodded, unable to find the words to express how she felt.
Sukuna gave you one last lingering look before he turned and walked toward his own dorm. His heart was pounding, and a small smile played on his lips despite the rain and cold.
Yuuji and Choso sat in Sukuna’s apartment, a heavy silence hanging between them. The dim light from the kitchen cast long shadows, making the space feel tense and charged. Yuuji kept glancing at the door, while Choso leaned back on the couch, arms crossed, his face set in a stern expression.
Finally, the sound of keys jingling outside broke the silence. The door opened, and Sukuna walked in, looking tired but content. He paused when he saw his brothers, sensing the confrontation waiting for him.
"Hey," Sukuna greeted, trying to keep his tone light as he shut the door behind him. "What's up?"
Yuuji stood up, his face a mix of frustration and concern. "We need to talk."
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strangererotica · 4 months
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EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI
perv!mean!Hopper, dom!Steve, soft!dom!Eddie x sub!Reader
Includes: MFM relationship, Hopper is a dirty cop/really sleazy human, oral sex, anal sex, guilt/shame/angst, blood mention, surgery mention, abuse of power, vomit, fingering, praise kink, piss, deepthroating, cockwarming, masturbation, swallowing, unprotected vaginal sex, pregnancy, shame, lies, secrets, squirting, and bubble bath sex… 🫨
PART ONE
@wordynerdygurl @eddiesguitarskills
• Our story begins in Chief Hopper’s Blazer, parked somewhere secluded in the woods of Hawkins •
“You got somethin’ to say kid-,” Hopper sighed, irritated. “Just fuckin’ say it.”
He was in a bad mood today…impatient. And honestly, it was the last thing you needed. “Why’re you so quiet anyway?” he asked, his hand sliding between your thighs. “Usually by now, you’d have this sweet little cunt in my fa-.” Hopper stopped speaking when he realized you were wearing underwear.
“The hell is this?” he asked. “You know my rules. No fuckin’ panties when you’re with me.” Hopper cursed, stamping out his burned-down cigarette. “You on the rag or somethin?” he asked, adding “I told you, it doesn’t fuckin’ bother me. There’s towels in the back, and besides-.” Hopper squeezed your thigh, a wry grin on his lips. “-I like it when you make a mess…”
You met his eyes, his deep blue gaze almost sinister with hunger. It would be difficult to say no to Hopper, even with the information you’d been wrestling with since morning.
“Jim,” you began, and he looked at you strangely, since you rarely ever addressed him by anything other than ‘Chief.’
“Yeah?” he asked flatly.
Your heart was racing a mile a minute, as you recalled the way your morning had started…nausea roiling in your stomach on the way to the bathroom from bed, vomit spraying the toilet bowl, and the piece of plastic you’d held between trembling hands, watching as two bold lines of color bloomed in the result area of the test…
“I’m pregnant,” you murmured softly. Hopper stared at you for a moment, before bursting out laughing. “Christ!” he exclaimed, his eyes crinkled in amusement. “How about that?” You watched Hopper light his cigarette, stunned silent by his reaction. “You told him yet?”
“Have I told who?” you asked. Hopper frowned back at you, confused but still smirking. “Your loser boyfriend,” he clarified, snapping his lighter closed. “You told The Freak he’s about to be somebody’s daddy?” Hopper chuckled again at his own words, finding the idea of Eddie being a father hilarious.
The shock you were feeling began to morph into anger. “What if it’s yours?” you asked, a bitter lump rising in your throat. Hopper’s laughter died quickly, his eyes going dark. “It’s not,” he retorted coldly, shifting in his seat to face the road, and not you.
“How do you know?” you asked, and he quickly (almost defensively) replied “because it’s not.” Hopper blew a cloud of smoke at the dashboard, resting his elbow against the driver’s side door. “Can’t be. I had the surgery-.” Hopper made a snipping motion with his fingers. “-Vasectomy. The kid’s not mine…”
You had no reason to believe him. Hopper could see the doubt in your eyes, so he chose to elaborate. “Had it done years ago. After my daughter, uh…” Hopper paused, his voice wavering. “…after my kid died. I decided I never wanted to go through that kind of…” He sniffed, clearing his throat. “…loss, again. So-.” Hopper shook his head slightly, as if shaking away a bad memory. “-I got fixed. Can’t lose a kid I can’t have in the first place, y’know?”
You wanted to believe Hopper. It would relieve at least some of your anxiety, but not all of it. You still wouldn’t be sure whether the baby was Eddie or Steve’s; but at least the affair you were having with Hopper could remain hidden, if the baby couldn’t be his…
“Besides,” Hopper said, interrupting your thoughts. “Can’t risk knocking up a girl like you, right?”
His question caught you off guard. “Like me?” you asked.
“Yeah,” Hopper replied. “One of my girls.”
Your lips parted, a weight sinking in your chest. Hopper’s smile took on a cruel affect.
“Oh?” he teased. “You thought you were the only girl I screw around with out here?” He waved his hand to the window, indicating the forest around you. “Trust me sweetheart,” Hopper continued, taking another drag of his cigarette. “You aren’t the only pretty girl in Hawkins with a boyfriend she wants to keep out of jail...”
His callous attitude was breaking your heart. You felt like a complete idiot for giving so much of yourself to Hopper, far more than your body alone. You’d felt safe with him, for some ungodly reason you couldn’t identify now. Regardless of how good Hopper was at fucking you, the reality of his monstrous character was finally, truly sinking in.
Hopper noticed the look of sorrow that had washed over you, and it annoyed him. “Now let’s get one thing straight,” he told you, leaning closer. “I still own this-.” Hopper slid his hand further between your thighs till he was cupping your pussy, squeezing it so hard you winced. “I still own you,” he added, his tone harsh. “And unless you want Eddie to miss the birth of his kid ‘cause he’s rotting in a jail cell-.” Hopper ripped the crotch of your panties aside and forced two fingers inside you. “-Nothin’ about our little arrangement changes. Understand?”
You nodded resignedly, a tear trickling down your cheek. Hopper rested his cigarette between his lips, using the fingers that had been holding it to pull down your shirt, and your bra along with it. He rolled your nipple between his thumb and index finger, pinching till you yelped.
In some sense, he felt that you were at fault in all of this…that you’d fucked up by getting pregnant. And the main reason Hopper wanted to punish you, was out of fear. Because he knew there was a very real possibility that you were pregnant with his baby. The vasectomy story was a lie, a well-rehearsed one he’d told many girls before you. Hopper really was just a selfish asshole who came in multiple women every week, and didn’t care about the consequences his reckless behavior might cause.
But this time, Hopper was afraid. He’d managed to escape the consequences of his actions for too long now; the truth would eventually come out. Hopper felt like this time, he might have really fucked things up. His bad mood from earlier was now a simmering rage. And he was going to take out all of his frustration on you.
Hopper pulled his fingers out of you with a loud squelch. “Get your ass in the back,” he ordered.
You obeyed.
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Eddie and Steve weren’t stupid. They’d seen you rush to the bathroom that morning, obviously feeling unwell. They’d found it suspicious when you stayed in there for over an hour, blowing them off each time they asked through the door if you were alright.
You’d locked yourself in the bathroom as if guarding a terrible secret inside it. As soon as you’d left to go meet a friend for lunch Hopper for sex, Steve and Eddie had done a bit of investigating. And it didn’t take them long to figure out the reason you’d been hiding in the bathroom, and why you’d looked so upset when you left it.
The positive pregnancy test was thrown into the back of the cabinet under the sink, but Steve managed to find it. Eddie covered his mouth in shock when he saw it, a big smile on his face. Steve was less enthusiastic, but not because he didn’t want you to be pregnant. Steve was uncomfortable with the possibility that Eddie, and not him, could be the baby’s father. If Steve was going to have kids with anyone, he’d want it to be you. The idea of Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson beating him to it…pissed Steve off.
For his part, Eddie was just happy. He was babbling excitedly to Steve about baby names, what the three of you would need to change around the apartment before the baby arrived, etc. He was buzzing with energy, while Steve was taking the news of your pregnancy in stride. He was happy for you, but he wanted to be happy for the two of you...excited for your baby and his. Not your baby and Eddie’s…
While Steve sat on the couch in silent contemplation, Eddie paced back and forth restlessly, chatting away at Steve about all his plans for the baby. “(Y/N)’ll be home soon,” Eddie told Steve. “When she walks in, we should both jump out and be like, hey mama!”
Steve rolled his eyes at Eddie. “Nobody’s jumping out at anybody, okay?” he retorted. “She hid the test, Ed. She didn’t want us to know.”
Eddie’s look of joy faded. He knew Steve was right.
“If she wanted to tell us, she would’ve this morning,” Steve continued. “We have to respect her privacy. God only knows what’s going through her mind right now.” Eddie flopped down on the couch beside Steve, his leg bouncing nervously.
“Why wouldn’t she tell us?” Eddie asked, even though he knew the man beside him didn’t have an answer. Steve shrugged his shoulders in an attempt at indifference. “I’m sure she has her reasons,” he replied. “And she will tell us, when she’s ready...”
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Hopper dropped you off a few streets over from the apartment complex, just as he always did after driving you out into the woods and fucking you. This time was different from the others. You were sore. Hopper had fucked you in the ass today, and not gently. It would take some time to recover, and the most appealing thing in the world to you right now was a warm bath you could lay back and relax in.
Standing outside the door to your apartment, you could hear Steve and Eddie talking inside. Part of you was happy they seemed to be bonding in your absence. Another part of you worried that they somehow knew about the pregnancy…or worse, about your affair with Hopper.
Your worries disappeared as soon as you opened the door. Steve and Eddie were busy in the kitchen making dinner, politely arguing about whether or not the pasta they were boiling was truly al dente. Your keys jingling got their attention. “Hey babe,” Steve called out. “Hope you’re hungry; Eddie and I boiled a shit ton of pasta by accident.”
Eddie held up the empty box the pasta had come from, idly inspecting it. “Yeah,” he commented as his eyes scanned the label. “Turns out one box yields, um…” Eddie pursed his lips, trying to do the math in his head. “…Waaaay more than we need,” he finished with a lighthearted grin in Steve’s direction. “Math was never my strong suit, okay?”
Steve left the stove and approached you, resting his big hands on your shoulders like protective mitts. The gesture was tender, warm, very unlike the affection you were used to getting from Steve. “Thought we’d eat in tonight,” he said, massaging your shoulders softly. “Maybe watch a movie together.” Steve was being so gentle, it took you completely by surprise, in the best way.
Eddie leaned in to your neck, nuzzling you with a soft kiss. “Dinner can wait,” he said, turning your chin to face him. “I think I’m in the mood to have dessert first…”
Steve nodded in agreement- “I second that,” -and let his hands glide down your arms, lingering around your wrists. “What d’you say, (y/n)?”
You realized how lucky you were, in that moment. These two beautiful men were standing there, wanting only to please you. A part of you wanted to reveal your pregnancy, but the possibility of ruining such a tender moment gave you pause. Guilt washed over your heart as you remembered your other secret, the one you were most afraid of confessing: Hopper.
“I think I’d like to have a bath first,” you told them. “And afterwards, I’ll absolutely be ready for dessert…”
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The bath Steve ran for you was perfect. Big, fluffy piles of cotton candy-scented bubbles floated on top of the water, swallowing you in a warm hug as you sank beneath them. You let your hair fan out on the water’s surface, your eyes drifting closed as you tried to relax. A cassette player on the sink played a tape of ambient music that Eddie had chosen for you. The lights were dimmed, with a few candles flickering beside you on the edge of the tub.
It should have been the perfect atmosphere to relax in, but your mind was running circles. Additionally, the work Hopper had done on your ass earlier that day made sitting uncomfortable, even in a warm tub of bubbles. You tried to avoid thinking of the pregnancy, but it was impossible. Over the course of one day, you’d gone from worrying you were falling in love with Hopper to bitterly resenting the power he held over you. Could you really trust him, that there was no way the baby could be his? As much as you wanted it to be true, based on what you knew of Hopper’s character, you had plenty of reason to doubt him.
How could you have been so naive, to think that Hopper didn’t have similar arrangements with other girls? He’d taken such good care of you sexually, fucking you slowly, unselfishly. Maybe it really had been for him all this time; but Hopper made it seem like he was fucking you for your pleasure more than his own. Like he genuinely cared about you. The way he ate you out for hours on end, licking you till the pleasure turned to pain. Why would a man who had so many girls dedicate that much time to your satisfaction? To making sure you came at least six times in one afternoon? Was there something about you that Hopper couldn’t get from all his other girls?
You hated feeling jealous, especially over someone like him. Here you were, sitting in a beautiful bath prepared by Steve and Eddie, about to be fucked by both of them as soon as you were finished. And yet, you were jealous over a filthy son of a bitch that was twice your age and fucking who knows how many other girls?? You shook your head, bubbles fizzing at your ears. A quiet little sob escaped your lips, but not quiet enough for Eddie’s perceptive ears to miss.
He peeked around the doorframe, a concerned look on his face. “You good, (y/n)?” he asked. With a heavy sigh, you managed a smile, and rested your chin on the side of the tub. “I’d be better if you and Steve joined me,” you said.
Eddie’s lips quirked into a grin. He stuck his head around the corner and called for Steve, “get in here Harrington, she wants us in the tub with her.”
When Steve entered the bathroom, he was met with a view of you sucking Eddie off at the side of the tub. The image made Steve’s brain go a little hazy, and all he wanted was to be naked, too. Your eyes left Eddie’s and locked with Steve’s as you sucked. The look on Steve’s face made you grin around Eddie’s cock, the corners of your lips stinging at the stretch. “Fucking look at her,” Eddie marveled, running his fingers through your damp hair. “Look at how good she sucks it…”
Steve removed his shirt and began to work his belt undone. His cock was hard and leaking by this point, wet and ready for the moist heat of your mouth. He removed his pants and his boxers, kicking them aside as he made his way to the tub.
Eddie’s legs quivered as he stood beside the bath, with you on your knees in the tub taking his cock down your throat. Steve watched while masturbating to the view in front of him, massaging his cock in slow, patient pumps from base to tip. He knew he’d get the same treatment from your lips as Eddie, that all he had to do was enjoy the show till his turn came.
The soft gurgling sounds you made around Eddie’s cock had both men groaning. “Good fuckin’ girl,” Steve praised. “Takin’ such good care of Eddie’s cock…gonna take care of mine too, yeah?”
You nodded, your head bobbing on Eddie’s dick. Pulling your lips off his tip with a loud pop, you shifted in the water and reached for Steve. “Uh-uh,” he scolded, swatting away your touch. “No hands. You want my cock? Then find it with your mouth like a good little girl…”
Greedy, hungry to taste the sweet pearly liquid oozing from Steve’s tip, you did as he instructed. Clasping your hands behind your back, you leaned forward till Steve’s cock was bumping your mouth, smearing precum over your lips and chin. “Open up,” Eddie murmured down at you, patting his hand against your cheek. “Take care of Steve’s cock the way you took care of mine, pretty thing.”
As Steve pressed himself between your lips, his girth caused an even sharper sting than Eddie’s. Usually, this was the order you sucked them in; Eddie was a little longer than Steve but not as thick, so he generally went first and got your throat warmed up for Steve.
A hum of pleasure rolled deep in Steve’s chest as he fucked your mouth, watching his cock disappear between your lips again and again with every thrust. Eddie climbed into the tub, reaching for your hips and tugging them to meet his.
As Steve continued to use your mouth, Eddie pulled you onto his lap beneath the water. He splashed away a hill of bubbles to watch your pussy swallowing his cock under the water. Steve lifted his leg and braced his foot against the edge of the tub. This position gave him even deeper access to your throat, his balls slapping full and heavy against your chin as he took you. Gripping your hair in his fist, Steve used it as leverage to fuck your face as rough as possible, till your gag reflex activated and you smacked his thigh, telling him to pull back. Vomit spilled onto the ceramic bathroom tile. Steve wiped your lips clean with a towel and cradled your face in his hands. “You wanna stop, baby?” he asked, and you shook your head ‘no,’ in response.
Steve complied, burying his cock down your throat again without pause. Eddie’s dick was nestled balls-deep inside your cunt as he let you cockwarm him. The urge to buck up into you was deliriously tempting, but Eddie forced himself still, knowing he’d come too soon if he moved even slightly. The sounds you were making on Steve’s cock were beyond pornographic. Gulping, choking, gagging around the thick outline of his shaft, you forced every inch down your throat till you’d swallowed him completely.
Steve exhaled a flurry of curses, his hands in your hair gripping for dear life as his knees went weak. “Oh my-oh my god baby-how d’you-how d’you do that?” he gasped. “I’m gonna-fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna come honey, shit!”
Steve ejaculated so far down your throat, his cum slid straight to your stomach. Eddie completely lost it, watching Steve’s face contort in pleasure as he relieved himself inside your mouth. Unable to hold back any longer, Eddie bucked his hips upward, punching into you with a few hard, breathless thrusts. As Steve staggered back to lean against the bathroom sink, Eddie groaned into your shoulder and painted your pussy with cum. “Oh my god!” he exhaled, falling against the back of the tub, a big smile on his face. “That was…I’ve never come that hard in my life, (y/n)-.”
“Neither have I,” Steve chuckled, finding his breath again. He returned to the edge of the tub and caressed your cheek, smiling warmly down at you. “Good girl,” he said, and then left for the bedroom, ready to pass out in bed.
Eddie lifted you off of him, resting your ass on the side of the tub, and parted your legs over his shoulders. You held onto his hair as Eddie buried his face against your cunt, his tongue searching out and swallowing every drop of his orgasm. Your thighs were shaking, clamped around Eddie’s face as he ate you, licking your cunt clean, hoping to get you all dirty again.
His wish came true less than a minute later. Biting your bottom lip to keep from screaming, you came all over Eddie’s tongue. A mix of cum and piss squirted inside his mouth and ran down his chin in slippery streams, dripping into the tub. Eddie growled into your cunt, his hand furiously working his dick under the water, a second climax overtaking him as he swallowed your release. Thick ropes of semen expelled under the water, clinging to the hair on Eddie’s legs. He pulled you into the tub with him, soaking your bodies in both your cum and his, kissing you so deeply you’d swear Eddie’s tongue touched your soul.
Eddie gently rocked you in his arms, in the mix of bubbles, water and cum. His body stretched across yours and covered you like a protective shield. You felt safer than you ever had before, looking into the eyes of the man you loved more than anything, the man you would do anything for…
…even if that meant doing Jim Hopper, to keep Eddie safe. There he was, that horrible, cruel bastard, forcing his way into your mind again, even as you lay in Eddie’s arms. The urge to tell, at least one of your secrets, became overwhelming.
You held Eddie’s cheek and gently stroked his hair, your words barely above a whisper as you told him: “I’m pregnant.”
His eyes lit happily, the corners of his lips turning up into a grin. “I love you, (y/n),” Eddie said.
And that, you realized, was all the assurance you needed that no matter what happened from here on, things were going to be alright… 🖤
442 notes · View notes
satorusugurugurl · 5 months
Note
This is kinda angsty angst. But what about one where reader got into an argument with jjk boy (maybe either satosogu, nanami, or choso) and they stop functioning or start getting reckless during missions and get really hurt. And they have a lil soft smutty smut to show reader that they love them and want them to stay on this planet.
Maybe I Should!
Pairing: Nanami Kento x FAB!Reader
Warnings: Yelling, fighting, blood, near-death experience, makeup, soft sex, fluff at the end, romance,
Word Count: 3,179
A/N: When I got this request, Nanami was the first to come to mind! I love him so much this request was made for him.
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“You cannot take this mission!” Nanami snapped, cornering you against a wall. “It's too dangerous!”
“It's a grade-one curse! I'm a grade-one sorcerer; it’s an even match!” You shot back, ducking under his arm, reaching for your bags. “I’m not some fragile flower for you to protect.”
Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, following behind you with a scowl. “This is not about me treating you like you’re fragile! I’ve read the case files! I’ve seen the damage that curse had done! This is way out of your league.” The room grew hotter with your growing rage.
“I can handle this!”
“No, you can’t!”
“Yes, I can!”
Nanami’s hand snapped forward, the veins in his arms and wrist flexed as he held onto you firmly. His touch wasn’t painful or too rough; it was gentle, allowing you to pull away at any given moment. For the first time since he told you you shouldn’t go, you stopped, turning to glance up at him. You were expecting to meet pleading eyes begging you not to go, to stay here. That gaze was nowhere to be found. Instead, you were met with a stern, cold look. One that just ticked you off even more.
You looked away as you yanked your wrist from his grasp. “I’m going; I can handle this on my own.” Your boyfriend remained silent. “I’m not one of the children at the high school.” A lump formed in your throat as you tilted your chin to give him a severe glare. “You tend to forget how strong I am. You look at me like I’m some pretty little weak housewife. I’m not!” Nanami scoffed; it was full of annoyance as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Yes, I am aware; if you were my housewife, you would have the decency to at least listen to what I have to say!”
“If that’s what you fuckin’ want, maybe you should go out and find yourself a girl like that!”
“Maybe I should!!”
His words were like an ice pick to your gut. Those three words stole the breath from your lungs, rendering you speechless. Nanami’s honey-brown eyes didn’t meet yours; they glared down at the floor as he clenched his jaw so tight you could see the muscles in his neck twitch. You felt tears burning in your eyes; you struggled to find the words to say.
What was there to say? He had said enough. Maybe the two of you had grown apart from the missions you both kept taking. Perhaps this fight was the end of you and him.
“Love, I didn’t mean—“
“You did.” His eyes finally met yours; they were wide, full of confusion and regret. “You meant every word.” Tears blurred your vision as you wiped angrily at your eyes. “I have a plane to catch; let’s put a pin in—“ you motioned between the two of you. “us ending our relationship right now. I can’t focus on it when I have a mission.”
“Wait!” Nanami called out your name before you stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door.
The conversation, well, the fight, plagued your mind the entire way to Okinawa. His words, the anger that twisted over his face. Thinking of his reaction was a bundled mess of doubt and heartache that sat upon your chest and clouded your mind.
‘Maybe I should!’
Anger fumed within the deepest part of your soul as you lowered a veil around the abandoned shrine you were sent to cleanse. Maybe he should pull his head out of his ass! You weren’t that same high schooler that was a year younger than him! You didn’t run off to be a businessman! You stuck it out and got more scars than you could count! So maybe he should realize you could take care of yourself!
Your fuming anger blinded you as you walked through the halls, glaring around corners, trying to sense the energy of this stupid curse. But Nanami’s stupid face, the rage, regret, the sorrowfulness in his eyes when he said, ‘Maybe I should,’ left his lips crossed your mind. He turned pale when you told him you would discuss ending your relationship. Thinking about him, about what was to come for the two of you, had you stopping in your tracks.
Ending things with Nanami was the last thing you wanted to do. But he needed to come to terms with the fact that you weren’t as weak as he thought. You were as strong as him; you could handle missions independently—even grade-one curses.
A grade-one curse that came out of nowhere and slammed you against the wall so hard you saw black spots. A wheezed, pained gasp escaped you as your eyes widened in shock. It is a curse made out of thick thorns, garbling and swaying. You moved as fast as your body would allow, a thorny arm slashing over your back, causing a wretched scream to crawl up your throat as you ducked and rolled behind a pillar.
Blood soaks into your shirt, coating the fabric as you pull out your talisman paper. Using blood from your cheek, you scribble out ‘purify’ over the parchment before embedding your cursed energy into it. Blue energy flowed around it as you rolled out from behind the pillar, tossing it towards the cursed spirit. Despite the fact the talisman was written on paper, your cursed technique made all your talismans hit your targets like daggers.
As your talisman struck the curse in the center of the face, it screamed in pain before it dissipated into black smoke, fading away. You let out a pained whine as you limped forward, glaring down at its fading form. But as its mouth began to fade, it laughed. It was a laugh that made your skin crawl and goosebumps rise over your skin. Something wasn’t right about this.
Whirling around, you were met face-to-face with another thorn-cursed spirit. This one was larger and stronger than the last. Nanami’s words from earlier ran through your veins like ice.
‘I’ve read the case files! I’ve seen the damage this curse has done!’
Little did the both of you know, this curse turned out to be curses—two of them, both grade one. The first one was strong, but this one, this one was crazy stupid strong. If you didn't move, you'd be killed. You rushed forward, reaching for more paper in your pocket, only to be thrown across the floor, your head hitting the floor with a heavy crack!
With blurry vision, you slowly sat up before collapsing forward as the curse rushed towards you. Thorn-covered limbs and vines wrapped around your legs, yanking you towards it. Its mouth opened, and a large tongue lolled out as you hit the ground with every yank. You screamed in defiance, kicking and screaming, tearing your flesh on the thorns, fighting to grab a piece of parchment out. The curse only seemed to enjoy your pitiful wails as you wrapped around you tighter, its tongue slowly sliding up your back as you drew closer towards its mouth.
That was its first mistake; as it brought inches near its open mouth, you roared, slamming a talisman onto its tongue. The paper burned with cursed energy before the kanji ‘purification flames’ lit up, engulfing the curse in blue fire. As it burned, its grip on you loosened, freeing and allowing you to crawl back, watching it thrash and scream.
You stared into the flames, wheezing roughly as you groaned. A see-through version of Nanami stood there, glaring down at you in disapproval as you struggled to stand. The Nanami said nothing as you gripped your side with a weak chuckle.
“S-See, I was f-fine.” you limped forward, “I could handle it.” Nanami shook his head. “Dead as a doorna-Gaaahk!” Blood spurted from your mouth as a stabbing pain shot through your stomach. Stumbling, you looked down with blurry vision at a large blackthorn emerging from your abdomen. Your blood dripped onto the ground as the throne turned to ash.
‘You were reckless.’ The Nanami before you watched as you fell to your knees, your hands clasped firmly over your bleeding wound. ‘Reckless, weak, not even worthy of being a housewife.’
Either his words or the pain had you collapsing onto your side, blood bubbling out of your mouth. Nanami, your Nanami would never say that. Iron flooded your taste and smell as you watched Nanami fade. Nita came rushing in, falling to her knees and shaking you as you stared weakly into the distance.
Perhaps you should have listened to him instead of fighting with him. He was only looking out for you, trying to keep you safe. But you had taken his adoration and concern for you as him seeing you incapable of taking this dangerous mission on. A weak laugh escaped you as you felt Nita dragging you, screaming into a phone.
Maybe being a housewife wouldn't be that bad. It might have been fun. But you would never get to experience that. Your body was too cold as blood seeped out through your fingers as someone pulled you into a car. Your name turned into humming as you shut your eyes.
“Darling,”
“Hm?” You asked, opening your eyes before shifting slightly against the warm body you were snuggling.
“Hi,” Kento reached down, stroking your cheek with one hand while he held a book in the other. “Did you sleep well?”
“Mhmm.” you snuggled into his side, breathing in the smell of salt water. “I had a terrible nightmare. I almost died.”
Kento’s warm hand brushed gently over your cheek. “It’s a good thing it was only a dream.” He whispered, bring your face up to him. “I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, love.”
“Mhm, I love you, Kento.”
“And I love you.”
Slowly lifting your head, you grinned at him as he kissed you deeply. He was sitting on a beach towel under an umbrella. The sound of ocean waves crashing over the shore had you fading further into the reality you had made. Where you and Nanami finally got out of Japan and made a life on a tiny island somewhere far away.
A beach somewhere far away, where you could spend your days walking the shore, enjoying the sweet ocean air. This was a place where Nanami could be free. Somewhere far, far away from all the blood and death the two of you had faced—a little slice of heaven.
And it was a reality that didn't exist.
Blinking in your summer oasis, your vision became clearer. Ocean waves turned into the chirping of medical machines and heavy snoring. The warmth of the sand was the warmth of blankets covering you. And the smell of Nanami was because your boyfriend was sleeping in a chair beside your hospital bed.
Disorientation overcame you as you sat up, wincing at the stiffness of muscles and pain in your stomach. Your mouth was too dry, and your head was pounding. What had happened? Where were you? How long have you been out?
“Ken?” your voice was hoarse and broken, but the man next to you jolted.
Dark circles had formed under his eyes as he jumped out of his chair, his hands cupping your face. His honey-brown eyes, which had been filled with anger the last time you saw him, were now filled with utter relief. He pulled you into his chest, his hands gently stroking your hair back as you shuddered, a sob working his way up his throat.
“I thought I lost you.” He whispered, his voice broken. “I almost fuckin’ lost you.”
His relief was contagious; you felt yourself easing into him, crying softly into his chest as he crawled into the bed with you. His arms gently wrap around you, cradling you into his body. No words needed to be spoken; the touch and sobs you both shared conveyed every regret and emotion you both had been feeling.
You were lucky to be alive, thanks to Nita’s quick work and the work of the doctors at the local hospital. They kept you in a stable condition long enough for Shoko and Nanami to take the soonest plane to Okinawa. Shoko helped speed up the healing process, and you were released three days later. During those three days, neither you nor Nanami brought up the previous fight. Which you were grateful for until he helped you into your shared apartment. As he shut the door, placing your bags in the living room, you sighed.
“Kento, we need to talk.”
“Yes, we do.” he agreed, following you into the bedroom, where the two of you sat on the bed. “I would like to—”
“No, I'm going to start.” You interrupted, placing a hand on his chest. “Kento, I-I’m so sorry I acted as I did. I was frustrated and angry, and—” You swallowed hard, “I realized you were only looking out for me, and instead of taking your words to heart, I twisted them into something they weren't. S-So if you want to end this, to find a more ideal partner, I understand.”
Nanami gently interlaced his fingers with yours. “I said some terrible things myself. I know you're strong, love, and capable of going on missions and taking care of yourself. But I will always tell you the truth. If something looks difficult to me, that says a lot.” The truth hurts as you nod, swallowing even harder. “That being said, my agreement to find a more suitable housewife was immature and moronic of me. You're the only wife I want in my life.”
He cupped your cheeks, kissing you as softly as he could. “K-Kento? You mean that?” The words came out as a blubbering mess as he laid you down on the bed, fingers grazing under your shirt.
“Every single word, I love you; you're the only wife I want.”
“I-I love you too, Kento.”
Nanami gently pushed you back against the bed, his lips trailing down your neck as his hands gently ran up and down your sides. “I want to worship every part of your body.” Hands slid under your shirt, gently grabbing the fabric, tugging it up and over your head. “You're such a beautiful love. I adore you; you're the best thing that ever happened to me.”
You shivered as his hands trailed over the large scar on your stomach, gently caressing it. “K-Kento~” He sat back, allowing you to remove his shirt before he trailed kisses over every single inch of exposed skin.
“I want to make love to you. I need to caress you,
Feel you, and adore you.”
Nanami trailed kisses over your shoulders as he slotted himself between your legs with a groan. Seeing the arch you squirmed and arched against him was all the encouragement Nanami needed to keep going. He slid his hand into your panties, gently rubbing circles around your clit, making you buck against his hand.
“I can't lose you; I need you in my life.” His sweet words had you moaning louder than his fingers plunging inside of you. “It’s you; it’ll always be you, baby.”
Nanami was true to his words. He worshiped you with his tongue, fingers, and lips. Bringing you over the edge countless times before he finally began passing his thick girthy cock into you with a groan. Once the tip is inside, you both inhale sharply. Your eyes were boring into each other, fingers interlacing.
The air is thick with lust and passion as Nanami slowly sets a steady pace. He was continuing to slide into you before he finally bottomed out. His back muscles twitched as he groaned against your lips, staying buried inside of you as you lazily kissed each other.
“B-Babbyy~”
“Y-You feel so good inside of me, Kento~”
“And you feel fucking perfect wrapped around me, my love.” His lips find yours, slotting against yours in a deep passionate kiss; the sweet lingering fast of coffee and sweetbreads flood your mouth as he starts thrusting deeply into your tight pussy with a grunt.
Nanami is slowly and sensually fucking into you. His mouth against yours, both your whines and moans getting lost in the other's mouth: you had made life countless times before, but this time was different. It was different because Nanami put his entire heart and soul into each kiss and thrust. He was cautious of how tight he squeezed your fingers while paying attention to the quest your body gave him. The man was putting his everything into his movements.
And you could taste it, god, it was so sweet. The gentleness, the softness in his groans as he gently rocked into you. While his hands gently caressed you. This was perfect; it was the literal embodiment of true love. A love that you would never in a million years let slip away.
“K-Kento~ I-Im not going to last m-much longer.”
“Me neither.” he gasped against your mouth as his hips bucked faster, the bed creaking under the two of you with his thrusts. “Cum with me~ I need to feel you cum around my cock~ I need to feel it~ please love, please~”
“K-Ken~! Ken~!” You cried out in-between kisses as he fucked you into an intense orgasm. He gritted his teeth as your walls pulsated around him, drawing him over the edge with you. Your name left his lips like a prayer as he filled you with his cum fucking it as deep as your body would allow.
Kenton only stopped when you both were a sweaty heap of entangled limbs. “M-Mmm, fuck, I love you,” Kento whispered, pushing strands of your hair out of your face. “I love you so damn much~ please don't ever leave me.” he pressed his head against yours, breathing in every breath you exhaled as you both came down from your orgasmic bliss.
“I-I won't.” You whispered against his lips as he moved, grabbing your left hand. “I swear, Nanami.”
He shifted, reaching for something under his pillow. Your heart lurched as you felt him slide a ring onto your finger. Glancing down at it, you choked on your gasp as a glittering diamond ring shone on your finger.
“Say it again.”
“I swear I'll never leave you.” you kissed him deeply. “I love you~ I love you so much~!”
“I love you too, god I love you.” Nanami kissed you, his future wife, as hard as possible without hurting you. “We’ll be together forever.” His hips rocked gently into you.
You made love all day. Gently kissing each other until you both finally laid down to rest in the last afternoon. Nanami softly snored as he held you, and you just laid there, basking in the afterglow of sex and the elation of being engaged. Your diamond ring glittered in the sunlight shining through the window before you curled into Nanami’s chest, sighing happily.
Being with him like this, was your own personal paradise that you never wanted to leave.
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chilschuck · 5 months
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on my hands and knees begging for post-canon confession. reader asks chilchuck what he’s going to do now that laios is king and he’s like “reconcile w my family, work on the union… and hopefully start courting you now that we’re not coworkers?”
`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ THIS MADE ME MELT INTO A PUDDLE ANON. WAHHHHHHH i wasn’t sure where i wanted to go with this lil drabble, but it ended up shorter than i would’ve liked it. i hope that’s okay!!! i felt like it was good to end it where i did, heheh…
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— PLANS: chilchuck x gn!reader.
꒰ warnings: ꒱ none, sfw! fluffy. <3
꒰ wc: ꒱ 483 (short but sweet!!)
✦ once again, i’m so sorry this ended up so short!! but i wanted something really sweet with your concept, and this is where my brain took me. (;;;w;;;) feel free to send in another rq again!! <33
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“What are your plans now?”
It was such a simple question, but it held so much weight in the space between you. The tavern you two were in filled with laughter and chatter, only to never drown out your voice as he heard it. Taking a sip of his drink, Chilchuck sighed softly. Even in all the noise, you managed to make it out.
He knew what you were asking, it was a simple question: Now that Laios was king, what was he going to do? The half-foot knew his answer before he could even think of verbalizing it.
“Well… See my family again, make up and reconcile. Work on the union…” Chilchuck looked down into his mug, before letting that content grin grow on his lips.
Before you could comment, he interrupted with one more addition. “…And hopefully, start courting you now that we’re no longer coworkers?”
You couldn’t help but let your jaw drop. Not only that, but you could feel your chest heat up from his words alone. Chilchuck let out a light laugh at your reaction.
“You— Want to court me?” The words came out so quietly, but your head was reeling. The man you had eyes for this entire time… ended up having feelings for you too?
“Well, yeah. I would like to.” Chilchuck scratched the back of his head, giving you that bashful smirk that always made you melt. Your own glee was evident on your features, the low tavern lighting illuminating your smile. Before you could help yourself, the words left you in a playful rush.
“So… Does this count as our first date?” Chilchuck set his mug down, your statement causing him to bite back a smile of his own.
“I think I’d like to take you somewhere nicer than this.” The way he said your name brought butterflies to your stomach, the excitement of this new relationship making your heart race. His hand found your own under the table, giving it a light squeeze.
It was quiet for a moment, but not in the heavy way it was earlier. Instead, the atmosphere of the tavern paired with the happiness of your newfound relationship made it welcome. Unable to stay quiet any longer though, you asked a question that was occupying your mind.
“How long? I mean, how long have you wanted to take me out?” Chilchuck rested his head in his palm, contemplating your question for a moment. With a hum, he came up with an answer. “Since… Well, let’s just say a while.” He huffed, cheeks warming at the idea of having to confess how long he’d been harboring those feelings for you.
You leaned closer to him, the drink you’d been sipping on making you feel a little braver. “I can assure you I’ve wanted to longer.” The half-foot looked down at his hand that was still holding yours.
“I doubt that.”
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— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <33
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