#drawin them to get back into drawin

[lichenbug]

evil gods silliest soldier

[xxplastic-cubexx]

give me some whiskey and ill draw The Most Thing i can come up with

bonus:

[eggsdrawings]

shuffles in… hiiii klance!!!

[todayisafridaynight]

//screaming//

art for fics that changed my brain chemistry (jo's pov | masumi's pov)

[noireservoir]

Would my 3 note warriors still like me if i started postin my wips on here be bonest

[specialshinytrinkets]

Reminder that love is stored in Browser games and that I might not be. wired correctly

[shotmrmiller]

i'll teach you love, don't worry.

simon x virgin f!reader 2.2k words oops

explicit smut mdni

cbf!simon teaches you everything.

he convinces you to let him be your first kiss. "don't ya wanna know how to kiss when finally get your first boyfriend?"

embarrassing, because you're in college yet still completely inexperienced.

when you bite your lip and give a subtle nod of agreement, a sly smirk graces his lips.

"don't worry love, i'll teach you."

the way he slowly slanted his lips over yours, his tongue gently sliding into your mouth, his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip before pulling away— breaths mingling as he rested his forehead against yours after the searing kiss had your knees weak. if it wasn't for him holding your body up, you would've crumpled to the ground.

-

cbf!simon convinces you to let him teach you how to masturbate. (and kinda eats you out.)

"ya gotta learn your own body first before letting anyone else touch ya."

when you bring up the fact that he'd be touching you for this, simon just said, "yeah, but i'm not jus' anyone, am i love?"

kneeling on the edge of your bed, his warm breath fanned over your bare cunt as he spoke. "ya wanna use the pads of your fingers to touch the little nub tha' peeks out from under your hood." doing as he said, you flinch at the sensitivity of it. "you're just not used to it, is all, you're alrigh'. now, i want you to start drawin' small circles on your clit."

when he sees you wince, he quickly grabs your wrist and pulls your hand away. "oh. you jus' need a bit of lubrication, love. if you'd let me, i can help ya with tha'."

the word yes is scarcely past your lips when he's grabbing onto the supple underside of your widened thighs, gently urging you to lean back— arms instinctively supporting your weight behind you.

he leans forward until his mouth is inches from your cunt, and spits directly on it— the warmth of his saliva on your sensitive bundle of nerves makes your toes curl in response.

he tells you to touch yourself again. "use my spit to rub your clit again, it'll feel much better, i promise."

simon's face remained firmly nestled between your legs, so you would occasionally feel the bristly texture of his stubble grazing your fingers.

each little circle you drew on your slippery bud had the warmth in your lower belly get hotter, your limbs beginning to tighten along with the coil in your stomach. it's a euphoric pleasure that begins to build up, and up, and up. there's an obscene slick noise coming from underneath your fingertips, your thighs are shaking in simon's firm grip, spine curving and toes curling.

you're whimpering and panting, mouth slightly open, head thrown back whatever is happening inside of you. what you do know is that it feels like a rollercoaster and you're starting to reach the peak in the track.

you can feel your core throbbing, pulsing, clenching. your stomach is now painfully tight—

suddenly, your forearm begins to cramp— rapidly.

a pained yet aggravated noise slips from your mouth, and you slump back on the bed to flex your arm— stretching the ligament furiously because you have to stop your pleasure when there's a hot, slippery something in between your puffy folds, flicking at your aching clit and it does it again, and again, and again...

then you feel a suction on your pearl— you're pushed past a threshold you hadn't even known you'd hit.

all of your body's tension just floods out— you're plunged into a pool of blinding ecstasy.

you're letting out choked gasps as your spine tingles in bliss— it's a massive release of emotions, of stress, of responsibility, if only for a few seconds.

you lay in the aftershocks of your climax, limp yet you've never felt more rejuvenated in your life. there's a buzzing in your ears that fades as your soul comes back into your body, and you notice that there are still two rough hands on your quivering thighs— kneading them like a cat.

simon presses a wet kiss to your inner thigh, and you jerk away when his facial hair prickles your delicate skin.

"tha' must've been somethin' else, eh? years of repressed—" You swing a sluggish hand at his head to make him stop talking, and when it connects, he returns the favor with a harsh suckle to your thigh.

"don't make me bite you, pet," he gently warns.

you grunt, then go through what just happened in your head.

"simon. did you use your mouth on me?"

he bites your leg in response.

-

cbf!simon teaches you how to give oral sex (per your request)

he all but ripped his trousers off, eager to get started. simon tells you to kneel on the pillow and find yourself face-to-face with his manhood.

it's fucking huge, there's no other way to put it. he's long, an easy 8 inches— he's so thick you can't wrap your hand completely around it.

jesus.

"look at me, pet," he commands.

you look up at him through your lashes, and he's dropping his head forward— covering his eyes, mumbling out a 'fuckin' hell'.

he takes a second to gather his wits, and then lifts his head again, to lock eyes with you.

"there is no wrong way t'do this, y'hear? the most important thing is tha' you enjoy it too. otherwise, i won't be enjoying it either, alright? now, personally, i like a little twinge of pain. so don't be afraid to graze your teeth on my cock, yeah?"

you nod and begin exploring.

the tip of your tongue licks at his glistening slit, pulling a hiss from simon. he tastes slightly salty, and something uniquely him, delicious. you pump his length with your fist, bunching up the skin on the upstroke under his flared head, then pulling down until you hit the base.

simon remains patient, never rushing you to take him into your mouth, or thrusting his hips toward your face. when you flick your eyes up at him, his dark eyes are glassy, outlined by long, straight lashes— heavy-lidded with lust. his crooked nose is stained with a tinge of pink, the same color as his bitten lips.

he's holding himself perfectly still for you, so you grant him respite. you put the entire tip into your mouth. simon lets out a strangled moan and immediately moves his hand to tangle in your hair.

you remember some of the bad porno videos and imitate what they did. you tease the bottom of his cock with the tip of your tongue, tracing the connective tissue that's right under his head. then you take him in further until he reaches the back of your throat, and the sensation makes you gag, forcing you to pull back.

there's a string of saliva connecting you two when he slips out of your mouth, and you close your eyes to breathe in through your nose. simon runs his fingers through your hair wordlessly, only speaking once you're ready to try this again.

"there's no need to take me in tha' deep, i could come from jus' your pretty lips 'round the tip alone."

you take in one more deep, calming breath before putting him in your mouth again and start bobbing your head. the groans that spill from simon's mouth invigorate you to keep going even as your jaw begins to ache, and your blowjob turns sloppy. there's saliva all over his trimmed pubic hair— your chin is slick with it too. you're drooling all over the hand that's wrapped around his base, and just when you are about to stop, simon begins to babble.

"fuck, fuckfuckfuck i'm so close please don't stop please please, fuck your mouth feels like heaven, god i've been wantin’ to do this with ya f'so long and it's finally happenin', fuck don't," he moans, "don't fucking stop, fuck, fuck—"

his cock swells in your mouth to what feels like an impossible size, one you can't handle so your jaw slackens. the edges of your teeth scrape along his rigid length. his upper body curls forward and lets out a long, guttural moan as he comes— cock twitching violently as he spurts thick, warm, ropes of cum on your tongue. it's so much that it begins to spill from the corners of your mouth, dripping down to your chin.

simon's panting harshly, his breath hitting your face when he swallows thickly, then tips your head up with an unsteady hand.

his voice is hoarse when he asks, "d'you swallow it?"

you keep your eyes locked on his as you do, then stick your tongue out of your mouth to show him. simon's gaze fixates on the display before pulling you in as he firmly grasps the back of your head and draws a tantalizing line across your tongue with his own.

later, you tell him to drink more water.

-

cbf!simon teaches you what it's like to be his (you've been his, why do you think the idiot that you met at the mall ghosted you?)

you're swollen and slick after the 4 orgasms simon gave you with his mouth and are more than ready to take him. it doesn't mean you aren't nervous about it.

"don't worry, love. i'll teach you what real pleasure is," and starts to slowly sink into your virginal channel. it's an uncomfortable feeling, and you can feel yourself trying to push the invader out.

"need ya to relax f'me, pet. the more ya resist, the more pain you'll feel. jus' give in, i've got ya," he coos. you nod into his neck and breathe in, letting your muscles go slack, and like a stone dropping into water, simon sinks to the hilt.

the sensation is too much, you feel too full, so you try to squirm away from under him, but he tilts your head back by the hair to give you a passionate kiss.

you experimentally move your hips and the delicious sensation that licks up your spine has you moaning in his mouth. simon pulls away, throws one leg over his arm, and starts to move.

his thrusts are complete, pulling out until only the tip is buried in your tender walls, and pushes until his balls are flush against your sweaty skin— the tip of his head softly pressed against the entrance of your womb.

simon suddenly changes positions, hooking your other leg over his arm, and begins to shallowly thrust halfway— hitting the sweet spot you didn't know you had until a couple of weeks ago.

he pushes into it with such precision that your vision is white behind your eyelids, and there isn't one coherent thought in your empty head.

"i've been dreamin' to put tha’ cock-drunk look on your face f'years," simon hums, "it's somethin' tha' i'll never forget. now give me what's mine, yeah?" and his hips begin to move with ardour. every drag of his thick cock is pushing you to one last mind-numbing orgasm, and simon knows it because he picks up the pace— he's relentless in his pursuit of your climax, almost as if it was his own. when your channel begins to flutter around him, he hisses through his teeth and looks down at where he disappears inside of you.

there are strings of sticky arousal that connect from your puffy lips to his pubic hair, the sounds your cunt makes are obscene, creamy, wet—

words fall from his lips unbidden.

"come around my cock, squeeze me with your tight cunt, fuck, ya feel so fuckin' good, c'mon baby, give it to me, c'mon baby, c'monbabyc'monbaby—"

you choke back a sob as you're slammed by an all-encompassing avalanche of bliss, nails digging into simon's shoulders as you milk his cock for all he's worth.

all of your senses are focused on the feel of simon pistoning into your abused hole, looking for his release. he fucks you straight through your peak, an incredible show of stamina until you're teetering on the brink of oversensitivity.

as you come down from your high, simon moves your legs that were dangling by his side, hooking them over his shoulders, changing the angle— hitting so much deeper than before.

it feels like his cock is rearranging your guts, and if you looked at your stomach, you'd see a lewd bulge in it. you're not sure how much more of him you can take, your nerves feel raw, exposed— but you hold on because the noises simon is making are something you've never heard before. those high-pitched moans are driving you insane. you honestly feel like you could come from them alone, but then his thrusts turn sloppy. after three brutal, spine-jarring thrusts, he finally stiffens.

his cock is twitching inside of you as he spills his essence, not bothering to pull out, mumbling softly about getting you a morning-after pill tomorrow.

simon gently removes himself from within you, dropping his heavy weight to your side with an oof, and drawing your overheated body towards him. the air in the room is thick and heavy— it smells of sweat and sex. the only sound that breaks the silence is the sound of your labored breathing until you whisper that you have to go to the bathroom.

he quickly gets up and carries you to it, then closes the door behind him.

simon spots the blood stain on his bed and is over the fucking moon.

he's your first and will make sure to be your last.

for my 🪐

[ink-perfect]

obsessed bf!gojo x gn!reader ⋆. based on: 22 - lil candy paint, bhad bhabie

gojo had a bad habit.

a bad habit of blowing up your phone.

it wasn’t the 'three texts in a row' kind of blowing up, either.

oh no, gojo satoru didn’t do small-scale chaos.

it was an art form for him. the type of masterpiece that made your phone buzz off your nightstand at 3 a.m. with thirty consecutive messages that alternated between blurry selfies, close-ups of his sunglasses, and texts like:

“hey👋 (with the intention of getting midnight sushi)”

“do u think panda would let me dye him pink? 🤔”

“pick up plzzz i jsut saw the funniest video on instagram but i accidnetally exited tje app it and cant find it anymore so i'm jsut going to explain it to you in excruciatign detail”

and tonight was no different—except this time, it came after your first real argument.

you couldn’t even remember what had set it off anymore, but it had ended with you storming off and gojo… well, doing whatever gojo does when someone’s mad at him (eating mochi and sulking).

soon enough, after an hour or so of no contact, the first barrage had begun: thirty consecutive texts ranging from the initial

“i’m sorry 🥺👉👈”

to a dramatic

“why do you hate me? 😭💔 (don't answer that.)”

you’d ignored all of them, determined to let him stew.

but then the calls begun.

ring after ring, voicemail after voicemail, starting out with intense professions of love that slowly faded into desperate pleas for you to call him back, text him back, to respond just once.

and when those went unanswered too, he escalated.

your phone buzzed on your nightstand, flashing yet another text. this time, it came with a photo—gojo lying facedown on what appeared to be megumi’s couch, his hand clutching an empty box of tissues. the caption read:

“i’ve been crying for 84 years 😢 come back pls”

you rolled your eyes, but found the corner of your mouth twitching up despite yourself. he was impossible.

another buzz. this one said,

“fine if ur not gonna answer just know ur the light of my life and i’ll literally wither away like an unwatered houseplant if u don’t forgive me soon 😭 also ur socks are still in my room do u want me to wash them or nah”

the buzz after that said,

“actually nah i'm not bothered to wash them"

and then another buzz.

"also u look hotter when ur mad 🥰”

the audacity of this man.

you let your impulses get the better of you and texted back a stern "leave. me. alone."

and not even a second later, your phone screen lit up with gojo's face for the umpteenth time.

you groaned, snatching it up and finally swiping to answer to put an end to all of this.

“gojo, what part of ‘leave me alone’ don’t you understand?!”

“oh my god,” he gasped, his voice overflowing with fake relief. “you’re alive!”

“i—”

“you weren’t answering, so i thought maybe you’d been kidnapped! or fallen down a well! or—”

“i ignored you,” you interrupted sharply. “on purpose.”

“no yeah, i got that,” he said breezily, completely unfazed. “but we're talking now! the devil sure does work hard, but gojo works harderrrrr."

"gojo—"

"so, how much did ya miss me?”

"gojo."

"also did you see my text about the socks?”

"gojo!"

“aaaaand i’m outside your window by the way.”

“you’re what?”

“outside!” he chirped back like it was the most normal thing in the world.

sure enough, when you yanked open your curtains, there he was—gojo satoru, standing on your lawn in a hoodie two sizes too big, clutching a mismatched bouquet of convenience store snacks and flowers that you could just tell he had made himself.

“ta-da~!” he grinned into the phone as you watched him hold up the haul like it was an olympic medal. “i come bearing gifts!”

you gawked at him. “are you serious?”

“deadly,” he said, his smile widening so much you could even see it from your vantage point. “i brought your favourite snacks, and also, i stole these flowers from my neighbour’s garden. don’t tell anyone.”

“oh my god.” you smacked your forehead, torn between laughing and drawing your curtains shut. “it’s three in the morning.”

“yeah, well, you didn’t answer my texts,” he said, pouting dramatically. “do you have any idea how sad that made me? i’m so sad, baby, like, devastated. i swear i saw my life flash before my eyes.”

you folded your arms, mock unimpressed. “what’s sad is that you think this is going to work.”

“it’s already working,” he shot back smugly. “you’re talking to me, aren’t you?”

you hated that he was right. you hated even more that your annoyance was quickly being replaced by amusement. he was lucky he was cute.

“toru, just go home,” you sighed, though your voice lacked its earlier venom.

“not until you forgive me,” he declared, dropping to one knee with such theatrics you were surprised broadway hadn't whisked him away already. “or at least let me in so i can grovel properly.”

“you’re unbelievable.”

“yeah. unbelievably in love with you.”

you threw a pillow at the window, even though it wouldn’t reach him, giving yourself a minute to think.

okay, more like a few seconds.

to be fair, you were sure he had learnt his lesson. and, well...you were craving ramen, which happened to be placed front and centre in his haphazard bouquet.

“fine!" you whisper-yelled into the phone, a smile already creeping its way onto your face despite your best efforts to stay mad. "but if you wake up my neighbours, i swear i'm locking you out.”

his grin practically lit up the yard. “deal!”

and just like that, you were stomping down the stairs, blanket in hand, ready to let in the most exasperating, ridiculous, adorable man you’d ever met.

because, really, how could you stay mad at him?

masterlist

© ink-perfect; est. 2024.

[jo-speaks]

good graces ft. quinn hughes

in which…

quinn hughes realizes you'll be okay, with or without him.

warnings: MDNI. brief smut (again, it's like a paragraph), mature language, mentions of cheating, and i think that's all.

track three in short n' sweet (hughes brothers version) series!

When I love you, I'm sweet like an angel

Drawin' hearts 'round our names

And dreamin' of writing vows, rockin' cradles

“What’re you doing?” Quinn asked, wrapping his arms behind you as you shut the oven door, leaving the sweet treat you made to bake.

You took off your oven mitt before sighing and leaning back into his hold. “Baking cookies. You said you wanted some this morning, right?

He let out a soft laugh, “Yeah. How did you hear that though?”

“It’s not like you’re quiet when you’re on the phone with Conor.”

Quinn rolled his eyes playfully, dismissing your comment about how comfortable he was when talking to his teammate. He set one of his hands to lean back against the kitchen island where he felt a piece of paper under his palm. He furrowed his eyebrows, creasing the sheet slightly to pick it up. 

After a quick examination, he realized it was the recipe you had written down for the cookies. In the top corner of it, he saw his initials next to yours, enclosed in a heart. Quinn felt a warm feeling in his chest knowing you had done that, not caring if he saw it or not.

He held the paper in front of your face, which you had buried in the crease of his right elbow. “What’s this?”

You traced your eyes over the paper, “The recipe for the cookies? Don’t tell me you can’t read all of a sudden.” He gave you a thin-lipped look before tapping his finger over the childish drawing causing your eyebrows to lift in realization. “Oh, that. Got bored, thought it was cute. Something we could show the kids.”

Now it was his eyebrows that rose, “Kids? Like our kids?”

“Yeah, two of them. One of each. We can have them after our billion-dollar wedding.” You stated that like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Quinn knew you weren’t entirely serious. The two of you had this conversation a few months ago and he knew you wanted him to focus on his hockey career while you focused on your career. You both agreed you didn’t want to rush into anything until you were settled. And since Vancouver had been his home for 6 years and yours for 5 of those when you decided to move in with him, maybe it was time to start putting down those roots together.

Don't mistake my nice for naive

“Y/N, please. You’re being ridiculous. You were the one who told me to come in the first place!” Quinn called out to you as you walked away from him.

You stopped and turned back to face him, “Because I thought you’d have fun celebrating with your team here! Not flirt with the bartender the whole night!”

He rolled his eyes, setting you off even more. “I wasn’t flirting with her! I was getting Brock his drink!”

“Whatever, Quinn. I’m going home.” You sighed, not wanting to continue arguing with him in front of a bunch of people.

“I wasn’t flirting.” He mumbled, defeated.

You almost felt bad for reacting the way you did, but you knew him. The half smile and constant nodding all while keeping his eyes on her lips as they moved. 

You weren’t stupid.

I don't waste a second, I know lots of guys

You do somethin' suspect, this cute ass bye-bye

Like, ooh

Baby, you say you really like it being mine?

So let me give you some advice

After the whole bar argument, you decided to repay the favour a few days later when you had gone out to that same bar with your girlfriends. The same night you knew the Canucks would be celebrating their victory there. You watched the door attentively before a tap on your shoulder caught your attention.

“Y/N, this is Josh. He thought you were cute!” Was the only thing your friend said before walking away. The stumbling in her steps was the only thing you needed to explain the situation. 

Josh rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he placed his drink down on the bar and took the seat next to you. He cleared his throat, “Hey. Pretty interesting friend you have there.”

You snorted, “Tell me about it. You should see her sober, she’s still the same way.”

He laughed, “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting alone?”

Before you could answer, you heard the bar erupt in whistles and clapping. You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who had walked in. Josh glanced over your shoulder, getting a view of the team himself. His focus came back to you when you tilted your head to interrupt his view. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. But to answer your question, I’m just here because I’m pissed at my boyfriend.”

You noticed his face drop before returning to the way it was before, “No way. I’m here because I’m pissed at my girlfriend!”

Your eyes widened at his confession, letting out a small chuckle. “Yikes, you’re an asshole.”

“Yeah?” He propped his arm on the bar, “How are you not?”

“Well for starters, I’m not approaching anyone. Second, my boyfriend just got here, so he knows where I am. And it doesn’t take a genius to know that your girlfriend has no idea where you are.” You answered, seeing the team take a seat at the tables next to where you were sitting.

As Josh sat in front of you, stunned at your words, you caught your boyfriend's eyes. He took a double take, not realizing it was you the first time. You looked away, bringing your attention back to the man in front of you as Quinn kept his on you.

“Who’s your boyfriend?” Josh asked.

You smirked slightly, “Quinn Hughes.

Josh’s eyes widened, “Bullshit.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer so you could talk in his ear and look over it to lock eyes with Quinn. “Don’t believe me? You’ll see who walks over to you when I leave.”

You backed up and got off your stool, heading to the bathroom as you kept eye contact with your boyfriend as you passed him. After you did, you heard him get up, his footsteps going the opposite way from where you were heading.

~

“What the fuck was that,” Quinn grumbled as he got into his car.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Quinn scoffed, “This is fucking gold, Y/N. You were all over my ass for doing the same shit on Tuesday, but when you do it’s all good.”

“Yeah, no. See, the difference between what I did tonight and what you did earlier this week is that I actually wasn’t flirting, I just wanted you to see what it was like to feel how I did when I saw you actually flirting with someone else.” You retorted, knowing how ridiculous the words coming out of your mouth sounded to him.

Yet on some level, Quinn knew you were right. He sighed before reaching over the center console to take hold of your hand. 

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t sober, but I still knew what I was doing. I don’t want to lose you over this, so please tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” He whispered.

You turned to look at him, “You like being my boyfriend?”

He nodded.

“Then don’t lie to me.”

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that so fast

'Cause no one's more amazin'

At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2

I won't give a fuck about you x3

That was cool

I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3

Yeah

“She’s the last person I’d want to piss off,” Jack told his brother over the phone as Quinn finished up telling him the whole bar fiasco the two of you had gone through a month ago. 

“Tell me about it. I’m not just saying this because she’s my girlfriend, but she’s literally always right. It’s getting scary.” Quinn confessed, pulling his car into the parking garage of the apartment complex.

Jack sighed, “Well, shit. Good luck with that, bro. Lukey’s calling you later, I gotta go.” 

Quinn said goodbye to his brother, hanging up the phone as he stepped out of his car, grabbing the bouquet of flowers he had gotten you for no reason. After the whole situation, he knew he couldn’t only make it up with verbal apologies. So he went old-school, settling for getting you flowers whenever he felt like they were needed. 

He stepped into the elevator, rocking back and forth on his heels as he reached your floor, walking out the second the doors opened. 

As he unlocked the front door of your shared apartment, he could hear you talking in the kitchen. 

“Yeah, I don’t know. I didn’t want to forgive him, but he’s making up for it.” You said to whoever you were talking to over the phone. 

Quinn stepped in quietly, your back still turned and your AirPods in your ears as you cooked dinner for the two of you. Still unbeknownst to you, Quinn walked to the hallway across from the kitchen, wanting to hear your conversation. 

Was it wrong to eavesdrop on you? Yes. Did Quinn know this? Also yes. Did he care? Not really. 

You let out a sigh, “Listen. He knows better than to do that to me. He also knows that I’m the last person he wants to fuck with because I can switch up incredibly fast. If he wants to cheat on me, he can go right ahead. But he knows damn well I’ll be out replacing him that same night.”

His face dropped. He knew that you were telling the truth, which is what scared him straight. 

“I don’t give a fuck if he wants to go out with Bella Hadid. If he does that without breaking up with me, I’m going straight to his mother and maybe even social media if I’m feeling petty enough.” You laughed, but there was nothing you were joking about. 

By now, Quinn wanted to ignore any woman that came his way.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love him so much. So much to the point where I would get down on my knee and propose to him. But, if so much as lies to me about anyone or anything, he’s gonna need a good lawyer.”

I'll tell the world you finish your chores prematurely

Quinn lined himself up in between your legs, pushing into you completely in one swift movement. You let out a breathy moan as your nails dug into his biceps. He didn’t move, letting not only you but himself adjust to the feeling. 

“Fuck, Q. You feel so good.” You mumbled, your brain foggy from the feeling of him being buried inside of you.

He mumbled something you didn’t quite understand before pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back into you completely. He did this a few more times before letting out a guttural groan, spilling into you.

This caught you completely off guard. Quinn had never finished this quickly before nor had he cum before you did. When he came to, he realized what had happened.

“Shit.” He mumbled, too embarrassed to move or even look you in the eyes.

You cleared your throat, pressing a soft kiss to kiss lips. “It’s fine, babe.” You pushed his body back, pushing him out of you. “I can just use my hand.”

He shook his head, finding his voice once again. “No, let me do it. I don’t- I don’t know what happened.”

Break my heart and I swear I'm movin' on

With your favorite athlete

Shoot his shot every night

Want you every second, don't need other guys

You were scrolling on your phone, swiping up on all the notifications you were getting from Instagram, seeing as you had just posted. 

Quinn was featured in a few of the pictures, drawing the attention of his friends and fans to your account. Your head was propped up on Quinn’s lap as you lay on the couch as he played his video game on the living room TV. 

One notification caught your eye as you furrowed your eyebrows seeing the DM request that had come through. 

‘rjosi90 wants to send you a message.’

“Hey babe? Who’s this?” You asked, turning your phone around to show him the account.

He paused his game, looking down to look. “You don’t know who Roman Josi is? He was that guy you met at the awards ceremony, remember?”

“Oh! The one you never shut up about!” You teased as soon as you remembered the name.

Quinn rolled his eyes, nodding at your words before resuming his game but keeping his attention on your conversation. “What did he send you?”

You opened the message, your eyes widening as you internally debated on telling him the truth, not knowing how he would react. But, you knew you wouldn’t want him lying to you if he got the same message from another woman, so you decided to be honest.

“He said he thinks I’m pretty and that you’re a lucky guy.” You read, eyes quickly flashing back to Quinn.

His cheeks were red and his eyebrows were knitted together. You looked at his hands, which were now gripping his controller so tight that his knuckles were going white. “Are you gonna respond?”

Hesitantly, you shook your head, “Not if you don’t want me to.” 

Quinn had never been an insecure person, but he wasn’t always confident. And your delayed reaction probably didn’t help. You let out a breath before grabbing the controller out of his grip and setting it to the side. 

You sat up, swinging your legs on either side of his lap and taking his face in between your hands. “Hey. I want you. Only you.”

You pressed a kiss on his lips which he barely returned out of his own frustration. Pulling back, you started to litter kisses all over his face in an attempt to cheer him up. Trailing from his lips to his cheeks, then to his jaw, and stopping on his neck. You sucked on a sweet spot that caused his hands to come up and settle on your hips. 

“I don’t want anyone but you, Quinn.”

You do somethin' sus, kiss my cute ass bye

As you stepped into his room, he quickly shut off his phone and turned it face down. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stood in the doorway.

“Am I interrupting something?” You questioned.

He shook his head rapidly, clearing his throat as he rubbed his hands together before walking over to you. “Just caught me off guard.”

You scanned his face. His cheeks were flushed and his face was sweaty. Not wanting the answer you thought it was, you gave him a look before speaking again. “Was just gonna ask if you wanted to watch a movie with me. But if you’re… busy, I can just watch it by myself.” 

Quinn cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. Let me just do something really quick and I’ll be right out.”

You simply shook your head, walking out of his room and heading back to your room and laying down on your bed with your laptop in front of you as you curled up in a blanket waiting for your boyfriend.

Even though the two rooms were separated by a small hallway, the walls were still relatively thin. You heard his door open and close but his feet remained still. You could hear the noise of his phone keyboard in front of your door, typing one last thing out before he walked into your room.

“So what movie are we watching, pretty girl?” He asked, setting his phone on your bedside table.

You eyed his phone before looking at him, “Everything okay?” 

He gave you a confused look, “Yeah, why?”

“Sounded like you were typing something important.” You shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of what could be nothing.

But, his wide eyes told you everything you needed to know. You sat up, raising your eyebrows in a way that said “Tell me what’s going on.”

Quinn shifted on his feet. “My ex texted me. She was saying she wanted to meet me for dinner and…” He cut himself off.

“And what?” You pressed.

“She wants to try again.”

You scoffed, “Okay. What did you say?”

He took a breath before answering, “I told her about us and that I’ll pass on the dinner because I’m very happy with you.” The way his words came out, you didn’t fully believe him. Yet at the same time, his face and body language told you he was telling the truth. You could tell he was nervous telling you, but you knew he wasn’t lying.

You nodded your head, “Okay.”

“Okay? What does that mean? I can show you the texts if you want!” He rambled.

Pulling him down onto the bed with you, you wrapped the blanket around him as well before setting the laptop in a way where you could both see it while lying down.

“I trust you, Q. If you say that’s what you told her, I believe you.” You whispered.

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that so fast

'Cause no one's more amazin'

At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2

I won't give a fuck about you x3

Oh, no

I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3 

Oh

No, I won't

I won't give a fuck about you, no, I won't

(I won't, I won't, I won't) x2

Quinn sat in the parking lot of Roger’s Arena. You had driven home early, wanting to beat the traffic seeing as the score by the middle of the third period was 0-4. 

The loss of the game and your going home early left Quinn thinking. 

You didn’t need him. 

Sure, you loved him and you loved living with him and the company and affection he gave you, but at the end of the day, you were completely fine being alone. 

The realization had Quinn wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks as he started up the engine of his car. He drove back in silence, hoping you’d be showering and in bed by the time he got home. 

As he focused on the scenery around him in the late hours of the night, that feeling of sadness fizzled into a feeling of relief. If for whatever reason Quinn left you, you would be okay. And now that he understood that, he became even more determined not to lose you.

Because regardless, Quinn Hughes didn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t his.

[geneviveleocardius]

arthur morgan romantic headcanons

extended

to the loml..

Arthur isn’t the type to fall in love easily, but when he does, it hits him like a freight train. He fights it at first, thinking he doesn’t deserve you or that his life is too dangerous. But once he accepts it, his love is unwavering.

Arthur’s love language is rooted in action. He’ll sharpen your knives, mend your clothes, and leave little surprises in your belongings—a flower he picked on a ride, a small drawing tucked into your satchel. These gestures are his way of saying..

“I’m thinking of you.”

Arthur would walk through hell and back for you, no questions asked. If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, they’ll be met with a cold, steely glare—and if the situation escalates, Arthur won’t hesitate to step in.

Arthur notices everything about you—how you like your coffee, the way your eyes light up when you laugh, the small things that bring you comfort. He stores this knowledge away, using it to make your life easier without drawing attention to himself.

Arthur finds it hard to express his feelings verbally. When he tries, he stumbles over his words, his cheeks flushing red. Instead, he’ll write you letters or let his actions speak for him. The few times he does manage to say “I love you,” it’s raw, heartfelt, and unforgettable.

Arthur is big, strong, and often a bit rough around the edges, but he’s incredibly gentle with you. His touch is always careful, his words soft, and he treats you like you’re something precious in a world full of chaos.

Arthur has a deep respect for you and your ability to hold your own, especially in the harsh world you both live in. He’ll often tell you, “You’re tougher than most folks I know. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Arthur cherishes the rare times when it’s just the two of you—sitting by a campfire, watching the stars, or riding side by side in peaceful silence. These moments are what keep him going when life feels too heavy.

Arthur doesn’t get jealous often, but when he does, it’s subtle—a tense jaw, a quiet grumble, or a pointed look. If someone flirts with you, he’ll casually sling an arm around your shoulders and mutter something like, “Don’t think they know you’re already spoken for.”

Arthur loves to sketch you. He’ll pretend he’s drawing landscapes or animals, but you’ll often find small doodles of you hidden in his journal. If you ever catch him in the act, he’ll act bashful, muttering, “Just drawin’ what I see..”

Arthur’s protective nature runs deep. He knows the world is dangerous, and he’ll do anything to shield you from it. At the same time, he trusts your strength and doesn’t try to control you—he just wants to be there when you need him.

Arthur believes in being upfront with you, even when the truth is hard to hear. He doesn’t want to hide anything, especially from someone he loves. His honesty might be blunt, but it’s always rooted in care and respect.

Arthur doesn’t expect perfection from you. He knows everyone has their flaws, and he loves you not despite them, but because they make you who you are. He’s always quick to remind you, “Ain’t nobody perfect, least of all me. But you? You’re just fine the way you are.”

Arthur dreams of a better life for the both of you—maybe a little farm, far away from all the chaos. He’s hesitant to share these thoughts at first, afraid they’ll sound foolish, but when he does, his voice is full of hope.

When life gets overwhelming, Arthur is your rock. His presence is steady, his voice reassuring, and his arms feel like the safest place in the world. No matter how bad things get, you know you can always count on him to stand by your side.

Arthur loves to poke fun at you in the gentlest way. If you trip over something or make a small mistake, he’ll smirk and drawl, “Reckon I should start callin’ you Grace.” But if anyone else tries to tease you, he’ll immediately shut them down, saying, “That’s my job, not yours.”

Arthur’s a nickname kind of guy. Whether it’s “darlin’,” “sunshine,” or even something a little more playful like “trouble,” every nickname he uses is laced with affection. If he’s in a particularly good mood, he might tease you by saying, “What’d I do to get stuck with someone like you?” only to follow it up with a soft smile and a quiet, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Arthur’s got a sharp sense of humor, and he’s not afraid to use it. If you’re being stubborn or overly dramatic, he’ll cross his arms and grin. “Oh, so that’s how it is now? I’d better get outta your way before you start runnin’ the whole gang.” He knows exactly how to get under your skin in the most endearing way.

Arthur loves a little friendly competition, whether it’s a shooting contest, fishing, or even racing horses. He’ll mock you playfully the entire time: “You sure you don’t want a head start, darlin’? Hate to see you lose so bad.” But if you beat him? He’ll act all grumpy before grinning and saying, “Alright, alright, you earned that one. Don’t get too used to it.”

After a round of playful banter, Arthur always makes sure you know he’s kidding. He’ll pull you close, brush his thumb over your cheek, and murmur, “Y’know I don’t mean half the nonsense I say, right? Just like seein’ you smile.”

Arthur’s life hasn’t left much room for softness, but he finds ways to be romantic in his own understated way. He’ll carve your initials into a tree, braid wildflowers into your horse’s mane, or bring you little trinkets he finds on his travels. If you ever call him out on it, he’ll shrug and say, “Just seemed like somethin’ you’d like.”

Arthur has a habit of pulling you into sudden dances when there’s music around the camp. He’ll take your hand with a teasing grin and say, “C’mon, we ain’t got all day. Let’s see if you can keep up.” Even if you’re terrible at it, he’ll just laugh and say, “Guess we both got somethin’ to work on.”

Arthur’s protectiveness often shows up in his actions rather than words. If you’re out riding together, he’ll always place his horse slightly ahead, shielding you from any potential danger. If you call him out on it, he’ll grumble, “Ain’t nothin’. Just keepin’ an eye on things, is all.”

When you’re feeling unsure of yourself, Arthur’s softer side shines through. He’ll tilt his head, his voice low and earnest: “Ain’t no one like you, and don’t you dare forget it. World’s better ‘cause you’re in it.”

Arthur can’t help but stare when you laugh. Whether it’s a soft chuckle or uncontrollable laughter, it always tugs at his heart. He’ll grin and tease, “Reckon I should make you laugh more often. Suits you better than that serious look you like to wear.”

Arthur’s flirting is subtle but effective. He’ll lean in close, his voice dropping just enough to make your heart skip a beat: “You keep lookin’ at me like that, and I might start thinkin’ you’re sweet on me.”

After a long day, Arthur treasures the quiet moments with you. Sitting by the fire, he’ll wrap an arm around your shoulders, occasionally breaking the silence to tease you softly: “Think you could stand another day of me? Don’t answer too fast, might hurt my pride.”

Arthur isn’t just your partner; he’s your anchor. Whenever you need comfort, he’s there without hesitation. He’ll hold you close and murmur, “Ain’t nothin’ we can’t handle. Long as we got each other, we’ll be alright.”

Arthur doesn’t brag much, but he can’t help himself when it comes to you. If someone comments on how lucky he is, he’ll smirk and say, “Damn right I am. And she’s lucky I’m lettin’ her stick around.”

When things are tough, Arthur’s voice carries a weight of quiet determination: “Whatever happens, I ain’t goin’ anywhere. You’re stuck with me, like it or not.”

pretty boy

[micahulrichdraws]

I come in peace! I don’t wanna try to convince you to take commissions! But I am curious about why you’re so strongly against them, did you have a bad experience working on one? Anyway, love your stuff, your tarot designs go so hard

Thanks for the love!! The reason isn't a bad experience or some such, it's 19 years of being a professional artist and knowing the field!

TLDR: I'm a traditional pen and ink illustrator, so it's not financially viable or creatively fulfilling.

I'm always down to talk art business, so here's a brief breakdown wall of text:

On the financial side, commission designs are almost always done at a net loss/break even for the artist, and I'm no exception. They're alright for starting out, or if you're looking to incorporate them into your marketing (IE: doing a poster design for a band to gain exposure), but typically they're roughly half the cash-per-hour for any established artist VS making an original design, and creating a print run of it.

Example: while tons of folks would look at someone charging $1k USD for a commission and think that it would be crazy cash, once you break down the math, it's pretty bad. An average design for me takes on average 30-40 hours, and that's because I don't have to communicate with anyone else. I'm just drawin' my idea. Assuming this is a dream client who has the mind-meld with me, wire transfers the $1k straight into my bank account the second it's done, that's roughly $25/hr. Once again - this looks *great*, that's around $50k/yr from drawing custom stuff! But that's not how it works. First of all, most folks would lose their *minds* at paying $1k for a commission - over the years I graphed it out, and back when I was a less-established artist, most folks would start with a budget of $100, have their limits pushed at $300, and outright refuse $500. You have to sift through all of those folks in order to get that reasonable commission. That includes folks who aren't willing to commit to a commission, don't want to say no to the price, but will still take up your time. Roughly, for me at least, 10 hours a week of it. You'll also have to run collections on roughly 20% of your customers - they may pay the deposit, but you'll have to chase them for the final payment. Even if you take the payment *in advance* you'll end up having to chase them down/get ghosted. So, realistically: you end up taking the $500, for *at least* 50 hours of work. On average, it clocked in closer to 65-70. $7.14 an hour. That's less than a third living wage and less than minimum wage. You cannot grow an art practice while actively starving. It's easier to make a design, sell it/license it/etc. to make more cash without losing your mind.

That said - After 2020, I reached a point in my career that when I take on custom work, it's typically from a larger brand with a larger scope and larger budget, ranging anywhere from $5k-$30k. That said - these businesses are typically ones that understand the industry and are far less of a headache to work with than individuals, and will give several months worth of work at a time at a living wage.

On the creative side, I enjoy making my own designs and work as opposed to other folks. I have a ton of drawings and projects I'd rather work on and share with folks of my own that are infinitely more fun than the 200th identical commission request (a biblically accurate angel that also is the grim reaper that is also Baldur's Gate 3 thirstraps/Dark Souls fan art/primarchs because Y'ALL AIN'T CREATIVE BUT MY ASTARION X SANGUINIUS SHIP CAME FIRST.) Also, most of the fun of my career is knowing as many folks as possible get to enjoy my art junk. I'd rather go through a few extra hoops and have thousands of folks see my stuff vs something only one other person gets to see.

If you made it this far, congrats, here is my favorite image I have saved in my camera roll:

[blingblong55]

Like this- Simon "Ghost" Riley

Based on a request: Heyy can you do trad Goth reader x Simon Riley.  Do what ever you want as in fluff or anything, I just want this because in a trad Goth myself!🖤🦇 ---- F!Reader, established!relationship, trad goth!reader, fluff?, boyfriend!simon ----

A/N: this was from august and its sadly the first time I see this request, im so sorry for not seeing this sooner <3

The low hum of the electric light fills the room as you sit cross-legged in front of your vanity, carefully applying the finishing touches to your eyeliner. The deep black flicks curl upwards like the wings of a raven, perfectly symmetrical and bold. The process has become second nature to you, a comforting ritual, but today, Simon lingers nearby, his interest piqued.

“Y/N, how do you get those lines so straight?” His deep voice carries over from where he’s perched on the edge of your bed, his elbows resting on his knees, hands loosely clasped. You glance at him through the mirror, his eyes fixed on your movements with an intensity that makes you smirk.

“It’s all in the wrist, Simon,” you tease, wiggling the hand holding the eyeliner pen. “Years of practice and a steady hand.”

He grunts softly, clearly unsatisfied with your explanation. “Looks like witchcraft to me. Tried drawin’ somethin’ like that once for camo paint and ended up lookin’ like a pissed-off panda.”

You stifle a laugh, imagining him hunched over a mirror, fumbling with face paint. “Well, I’m sure you were a very intimidating panda.”

Simon huffs a short laugh, the corner of his lips twitching upward. “You’re takin’ the piss now.” Despite his words, there’s no bite to them, just warmth in his tone.

The mirror gives you a perfect view of him leaning forward, his elbows resting on his thighs as he tilts his head. His gaze roams over the collection of bottles and compacts on your vanity, his brow furrowing slightly.

“What’s that one do?” he asks, pointing a finger toward a small glass jar of black pigment.

“Eyeshadow,” you reply, holding it up for him to see. “It’s for shading, adding depth. Here, let me show you.”

You scoop a little onto the tip of your brush and reach for him. Simon doesn’t flinch, though his brow quirks in mild amusement. “You’re not paintin’ me up like a panda, love.”

“No pandas, I promise,” you say, stepping closer. He lets you lean in, and you gently dab the brush at the corner of his eye. The contrast of your soft touch against the rough edge of his stoic expression tugs at your heart.

He stays completely still, his eyes locked on your face. When you step back to admire your work, there’s a faint smudge of dark shadow enhancing his already piercing gaze.

“Not bad,” he mutters, tilting his head to get a better look in the mirror. “Makes me look a bit dangerous, doesn’t it?”

“You already look dangerous,” you counter, rolling your eyes. “The eyeshadow just makes you prettier.”

He snorts at that, shaking his head. “Prettier, eh? Don’t let Johnny hear you say that.” You laugh, but the warmth in his gaze when he looks at you makes your chest ache in the best way. He reaches out, tugging you toward him until you’re standing between his knees, his hands resting lightly on your hips.

“I like watchin’ you do this,” he says softly, his thumb idly tracing a small circle against your side. “You’ve got somethin’ special, the way you put yourself together. You don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks.”

His words catch you off guard, and you feel your cheeks heat despite the confidence you usually wear like armour. “It’s just… who I am.”

“And I love it,” Simon murmurs, his voice low and steady. “Every bit of it. You make the world a little less dull.” Your throat tightens at his sincerity. You lean forward, resting your forehead against his. “You’re such a softie sometimes, you know that?”

“Don’t tell the lads,” he whispers, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They’ll never let me live it down.”

“I promise,” you whisper back, your smile matching his. “It’ll be our secret.”

tags: @liyanahelena @johfaam0 @froggy-anon @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @night-mare-owl-79  @alxexhearts @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @defnotlpuluvyou @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik  @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bitter-majesties @Nyx_Flower @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky–bunny @honestlyhiswife @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @anonxasian @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @sleepyycatt  @gh0st-hunt2r @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo @alexaseeraj  @trinthealternate @vampsquerade @azkza @VampyTheGoth @mariededenie

[marvelobsessed134]

“You taste divine”

Pairings: James Hetfield x Innocent!Ulrich!Reader

A/n: back with my innocent!reader brainrot fics I love them so much. Fyi reader is 18 James is like 20 something here so it’s all legal

Warnings: smut, corruption kink, non/dub con, overstimulation, loss of virginity, praise, manipulation, James takes advantage of reader’s innocence, probably not accurate to real life events but it’s fiction so it doesn’t really matter

Ever since James met you, he’s been enamored by you. You’re just so sweet and innocent and he wanted to corrupt you so badly.

It all started when he pulled up to Lars-your brother-‘s house and saw you lying on your tummy in the grass while reading a book under the tree. A delicate white dress adorning your small form. The frontman could feel his mouth watering at the sight. Unfortunately it was interrupted by your brother shouting at him to come inside so they can practice.

“Hey, didn’t know you had a sister.” James said.

Lars shrugged, “Yeah, I usually don’t tell anyone cause everyone wants to bone her. But she doesn’t even know it!” He put his hands in the air as he explained. Meanwhile the guitarists’ pants tightened.

James likes them…oblivious. It was a horribly dark fantasy he has. The need to corrupt a innocent girl.

During practice, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and your sweet aura. Fuck, he had to talk to you. Even if Lars would kill him for doing so.

So one night, while the guys were having a random hangout which turned into a sleepover after they had one too many drinks, James creeped his way up to you room. The soft glow from your light peaked through the hallway and he walked inside to see your very girly pink room.

And there you were, on your tummy again but this time on your bed while you sketched something in a notebook. The blonde closed the door behind him making you jump and your head snap in the direction of the sound.

“James?” Your soft sweet voice sounded through the quiet room.

“Hey Y/n.” He responded before walking over and sitting on your bed, “Whatcha drawin’ there?” He motioned towards your notebook.

“Just some bunny rabbits cause I don’t know.” You blushed and giggled.

“You look like a little bunny rabbit.” The blonde said with a smile as he lightly pinched your cheek. You blushed more “Jamie.” You giggled. Oh god he loves when you call him that. Rarely would he ever let someone use that nickname for him but you? You can use it all you want.

“Hey do you mind if I hang out in here with you tonight? The guys are all passed out.”

“Sure.”

He took his shoes off and got comfortable on your bed. Then he leaned forward and grabbed you by your waist making you squeal in surprise before sitting you on his lap.

“James! You can’t do that!” You scolded but you were laughing.

“And why’s that?” He teased, tickling your side making you laugh and squirm, “Lars doesn’t like when- oh my goodness stop that tickles! When boys touch me.”

“Yeah? Well he’s not here now is he?” The frontman replied, stopping his tickling but moving his hand up your shirt towards your breasts.

“J-James what are you doing?” You asked dumbly.

“I just think you’re beautiful and I want to play with you, is it so difficult to understand?” Of course, you don’t know any better so you let him fondle your breasts making you moan at the foreign feeling.

“Can you take your shirt off for me baby?” You complied, taking your little white lace cami off to reveal your bare chest. His hands both came up behind you and tweaked your nipples, rolling them around in his fingers. “Jamie!” You gasped.

“Feels good doesn’t it honey?” You nodded, still a little unsure.

“Can you lay down for me?” The blonde asked gently and you nodded once again, lying down next to where he was sitting on your bed. He got up and tossed your sketchbook and pencils haphazardly onto the ground and pulled your legs so you’d get close to the edge of your bed. He carefully pulled your shorts and panties off, “Spread those legs for me baby. I just want to see how pretty you look down there.” His tone was so gentle and trusting. You had no idea how he really felt. How he was finally getting his perverse fantasy to come true.

As instructed, you spread your legs. “Oh god, look at that little pussy.” You didn’t know what any of those words meant minus the ‘oh god’ part but you felt like you could trust James, he’d never do anything to hurt you right? He’s older than you and knows more than you.

The guitarist slipped his finger up your folds making you jerk your hips up and hiss. You’re so sensitive down there. He licks his finger clean before getting down on his knees and licking a bold stripe against your pussy.

“Oh!” You moaned in surprise. The singer chuckled against you sending vibrations throughout your body. He continued to eat you out causing you to shiver and shake under him from all the newly found pleasure you experienced.

You felt yourself get overwhelmed with this tingly feeling in your cunt and you tried to back away to make James stop, “Please, James stop! It’s too much I don’t know what going on too tingly n’ itchy- oh!” You screamed out in pleasure as your first ever orgasm hit you like a truck.

“So good baby, oh my god you taste divine.” He moaned as he lapped up all your cum before standing up to check on you. He pressed a kiss to your lips before undoing his belt and letting his jeans and boxers fall to the floor.

His dick sprang to life hitting his stomach before he guided it to your core, rubbing it up and down your folds making you gasp, “What are you doing now?” You asked a little nervously.

“I’m playing with you, remember?” He didn’t want you to know exactly what he was doing to keep a tiny bit of your innocence for his own sick pleasure. He slowly entered your tight hole making you hiss in pain, “James stop! That hurts!” You cried but he kept entering you, staying still for a bit to let you adjust to the feeling.

Once you calmed down he started to thrust himself inside, and the pain you felt quickly turned to pleasure as he hit your g spot over and over. James gripped your hips as he fucked you.

“Fuuuck so perfect for me. Taking my dick so good.” He growled as he upped the pace making you moan and cry out. He didn’t care if anyone heard the two of you, he was too caught up in the moment.

“Jamie!” You cried out as you felt your second orgasm arriving and hitting you again making your vision white for a second. “You’re such a good girl letting your brother’s friend play with you like this.” The vocalist moaned before he pulled out of you to shoot his load on your tummy.

He scooped up his own cum with his finger and brought it to your mouth, “open.” He commanded and you did as he said, taking his finger in your mouth and tasting the salty release.

“Good girl.”

[cosmicdahlias]

She Looks Just Like You

an arthur morgan x reader fic

You’ve unintentionally fallen pregnant and Arthur’s the father.

warnings: pregnancy, birth

alright y’all! so this is my first sfw fic and i chose to spoil y’all with some pregnancy and dad arthur fluff. it kinda jumps around a bit, but hopefully it’s still a good read

You were fully aware with how lazy you and Arthur had gotten with contraception, both mutually agreeing that the linen condoms dulled the experience. You pretended like him finishing inside you was a nonissue, you liked it that way.

You started to become sick as a dog every day for weeks on end, pissing like a racehorse every 30 minutes, and your cycle never came. Abigail, having gone through this before, immediately knew what was going on.

”You need to see a doctor, y/n. You’re for sure pregnant.”

“It’s probably nothing.”

“That’s what I thought too, but look how that turned out for me.”

You let the symptoms persist for another two weeks before you decided you couldn’t take it anymore, you got yourself in with a doctor. It took a short exam of your cervix for him to break the news.

“Well, miss, I can say with 100% certainty that you are indeed pregnant.”

“Ah, I was kinda hoping you’d tell me it was just really bad food poisoning.”

“No, I’m afraid you are, as you say, ‘up the spout’. Now, are you and the father on good terms? Do you know the father?”

“Oh yeah, I know him.”

-

It took a few days for you to muster up the courage to tell Arthur. You were riding back to camp when you decided you couldn’t hide it any longer.

“Arthur, we need to talk.”

“You know I hate when you say it like that.”

“I know, I know, but I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t important.”

He tugged on the reins and halted his horse to a stop, he hopped down and helped you off of yours.

He put his hands on your waist. “Okay, now what was so important?”

You shifted on your feet nervously and took a deep breath.

“Arthur, I’m pregnant.”

He froze for a moment. “You’re sure? For sure, for sure?”

“As sure as the doctor who told me.”

You had no idea what to expect from his reaction. For a second you thought he’d get mad, but instead he wrapped you in a crushingly tight hug, lifting you off your feet.

“Oh my god, I had my suspicions with you bein’ sick and all for so long, but I didn’t wanna pry. You’ve made me so happy, happiest man on earth.”

“Y- you ain’t mad?”

“Are you kiddin’? You’ve given me the greatest gift I could ever ask for.” He said, kissing you.

That night you lay with Arthur in the tent you shared. When you fell asleep he put a hand to your stomach, stroking it with his thumb.

-

Immediately after receiving the news Arthur objected to you doing any jobs that could be even slightly dangerous.

He would always answer your protests with “And what happens if the baby gets hurt?”

“You sure as shit didn’t care when it was just me.” You retorted.

“That’s because I know what you’re capable of, it’s different now.”

-

A month later you had just arrived back at camp when Micah decided to once again participate in his favorite sport, antagonizing the fuck out of Arthur. He watched as Arthur assisted you in helping you down from your horse.

“How do y’all even know if he’s the father?” Micah sneered.

“Watch it, Micah.” Arthur growled, teeth clenched.

“Hey, I’m just sayin’, everyone ‘round here’s had them, even Dutch.”

“For your information, I’ve been faithful since the day Arthur and I got together.” You retorted.

“Yeah you say that, but I think we all now deep down you’re still the same little whor-“

Arthur cut him off with a punch square in his face, breaking his nose. Micah stumbled back.

“You son of a BITCH!”

Micah returned with a blow of his own, connecting straight with Arthur’s mouth, busting his lip.

Dutch overheard the commotion and rushed over, putting himself between them.

“What the hell is with you two? Can’t y’all have a single conversation that don’t end with either of you drawin’ blood?”

“It’s what he gets for not keepin’ his mouth shut.” Arthur spat.

“Just speakin’ the truth, Arthur. You’re gonna find out one way or another.” Micah grinned as blood streamed down his face.

You dragged Arthur away to the tent, Micah called out to get the last word in.

“That whore ain’t gonna be yours forever, Arthur!”

You sat him down on the cot, taking a cloth and dabbing at the blood that seeped from his lip.

“Lord almighty Arthur, you can’t keep lettin’ him get to you. You’re a better man than that.”

He put his hand to yours. “And I can’t let him talk to you that way. I love you too much to ignore it.”

-

Around 5 months in you were dozing off next to Arthur when you felt a flutter in your stomach, you shook him awake and put his hand to you.

“Arthur! Arthur! The baby’s kicking!” You said, full of excitement.

“Huh? Wha- OH!”

He felt the tiny foot against his hand.

He chuckled. “Well how about that? We got a little fighter.”

-

Another 4 months passed you by. Your water broke early in the morning and you were in severe pain all day, contractions kicking your ass. Late in the afternoon you tried to distract yourself by hanging up the washing to dry when you fell to the ground in the most intense pain you had ever felt in your life.

“ARTHUR!”

He ran over. “What? What’s wrong?”

You were breathless, panicking. “The baby, it’s-“

Arthur leapt into action, scooping you up and rushing you back to your tent. He laid you down gently on the cot, taking off your skirt and bloomers. He stuck his fingers inside you, feeling your cervix.

“What in the sam hell do you think you’re doin’?” You barked.

“Seein’ how far along you are. Don’t start pushin’ just yet, it won’t do you any good.”

“Why’re you actin’ like you know what you’re doin’?”

“Cause I’ve done this before.”

Two hours passed as the contractions rolled through you, each one worse than the last.

“Remind me to fuckin’ kill you when this is all over.” You said through gritted teeth.

“I honestly deserve it.”

He returned his fingers inside you.

“Okay, you’re ready, you can push.”

The pain from the contractions was nothing compared to this. It felt like your insides were being ripped apart.

“God, it hurts so BAD.” You said, tears streaming down your face.

“I know sweetheart, you’re doing so good, keep goin’.”

You gripped Arthur’s hand almost hard enough to break it.

“You’re almost there, just breathe.” He cooed.

“I AM BREATHIN’ YOU BASTARD!”

You let out a deafening shriek, there was silence for a moment, then you both heard a cry.

There she was, all 8 pounds of her, face bright pink as she cried. Arthur held her in his arms.

“It’s- it’s a girl, we have a little girl.” Arthur said, tears forming.

He cut the umbilical cord with a knife and holding her for just a moment longer before handing her off to you.

“She’s so beautiful, y/n, she-“

“She looks just like you, Arthur.” You smiled, exhausted.

-

John and Abigail showed up a few hours later with little Jack in tow.

John spoke. “We came to see how y’all are doing. How’s the baby? Is it a-“

“A girl, Dahlia.” Arthur replied.

“Heh, guess I have a niece now.” John smiled.

“It’s a beautiful name, y/n.” Abigail said.

“Aunt y/n, Uncle Arthur, can I hold her?” Jack asked.

“Of course Jack, sit down first.” You responded.

Jack sat on the edge of the cot.

“Now you gotta support her head. Okay, Jack?” Arthur said.

“Okay.”

You handed Dahlia to Jack, he carefully took her in his arms. He extended a finger, she took it in her chubby little fist.

-

That night the men of the camp sat by the fire as Arthur passed out cigars. The women crowded into your tent, sipping whiskey and fawning over your new baby girl. You had to admit, it was nice to have a drink after nine months of involuntary sobriety.

“Well one thing’s for certain, Arthur definitely ain’t gonna be able to leave you now.” Karen laughed, sufficiently intoxicated.

“Arthur’s been crazy about them long before this. You’ve seen the way he looks at them, watches them like a hawk. I think it’s sweet.” Abigail said.

-

Arthur held you as you slept when he heard a whimper, he gingerly got up so as to not wake you. He took Dahlia in his arms, cradling her and holding her against his chest.

“Shhh, you’re okay, your daddy’s got you. I know you probably want your mama, but we’re gonna let them sleep for now. You kinda tuckered them out.” He chucked.

He stepped out of the tent and returned to the fire, John was still there.

He put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Welcome back to fatherhood, prepare to never know a full night’s sleep again.”

Arthur laughed. “It’s worth it, I already love her to death.”

“Despite lookin’ like your ugly mug she really is beautiful, Arthur.”

Arthur looked down and smiled at the baby that slept in his arms. “Yeah, she is.”

[dilf-luvr-4evr]

Very self indulgent as you can see 👹 I’m so mad at him for being difficult to draw that this is probably the quickest writing I’ve ever came up with lol. It’s not a proper fic or whatever more like refuge from feeling like shit 😭 working on ur requests & other better things trust 🙏 mdni!!

You were sure they’re blue. A reflection of the sky at midday. It’s apparent when he’s wearing those soft cotton blue shirts you liked.

Now that you looked closer, they were.. green? Dark on the edges but lighter towards the middle. Light to a point where it’s almost yellow. Like the color of limes.

Not that it mattered. Your gray pencil wouldn’t be able to replicate them anyway. Not even the proper shape of it.

As you kept observing, it didn’t occur to you that his cheeks were nearing crimson.

“Darlin’.. quit starin’ will ya?” He said softly, voice tinged with sleep and a certain kind of high that only you could give. His left arm remained under your weight, fingers wandering along your unclothed back. His head rested on his right. Wasn’t much of a retaliation really. He’d let you bore as long as you’d like if he could stay intertwined with you like this all the time. And it’s not like he’s any different whenever he drew you. He just knows when to look away.

With your forearms still crossed on his bare chest and your chin above them, you shook your head. “When your eyes get easier to draw, maybe.”

A huff of air left his nose as he smiled. “You been drawin’ an old bastard like me?”

He knew you liked his cock. He thinks you liked his body. But he didn’t think you liked his face. And he’s certain you didn’t like him.

Just friends who shared a love for drawing and occasionally fall tangled in each others’ arms.

You nodded, sheepish. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to know that. Left him hanging just enough with the confirmation, without the don’t say that, you’re very pretty. Let the words join in all the things you’ll never say aloud.

He chuckled, eyes creasing at the corners before they close. You didn’t know him enough to know that the rise and fall of his chest wasn’t usually this slow. Or how the second thing that makes his heart palpitate like this is when he runs. First being you.

Only when you were sure he’s fallen asleep, did you kiss him, shifting to join his slumber afterwards.

Only when he’s sure you’re no longer looking, did he smile, holding you closer against his chest. There it is again, the feeling he couldn’t quite draw or write.

my masterlist

thank you for reading!! 🫶🏼

[whowantslovergirl]

Good Graces

track three of the short n sweet series

Nate Jacobs x reader (reader is female with she/her pronouns)

warnings: cursing, nate, y/n being a bad bitch fr

Summary: If Nate wants to stay with you he has to stay in your good graces

posted: Nov. 20, 2024

I won't give a fuck about you

You were after Maddy and Cassie and you were nothing like Nate ever experienced. It’s not like Maddy didn’t have self respect but she still went back to him. But you, you are different. All the shit that slide with Maddy you would never let that slide.

One time you told him straight up if he mess up again you won’t give a fuck about him anymore.

But something about your confidence he was so intrigued with.

When I love you, I'm sweet like an angel

Drawin' hearts 'round our names and dreamin' of

Writing vows, rocking cradles

You and Nate have been dating for five months and you’re already in love. In every class you’ve been drawing hearts around your names.

After school you’re dreaming about vows that you would say to him and he would say to you.

Even babies crossed your mind.

______

Then when you were going to meet him before you guys walk to class together and you see him making this other girl laugh. He sees you and walk up to you with a smile on his face.

“Nate who was that girl?”

“Just a girl in my class.”

“I’m really trying to spare you so don’t mistake my nice for naive okay?” He nodded and wrapped his arm around your shoulder and walk you to class.

I don't waste a second, I know lots of guys

You do something suspect, as cute as "bye-bye"

Yesterday Nate said bye bye and later that night the same girl who he was making laugh posted a video of her in his truck.

He really thinks you’re an idiot.

______

The next day you blocked him and are now talking to another guy and he’s making you laugh.

You don’t really waste a second when it comes to moving on. You know lots of guys who are just waiting for you to text them.

______

Like, ooh, baby, you say you really like it being mine

So let me give you some advice

Nate was in your house begging you to forgive him.

“I really like it being yours and I didn’t know she was going to do that. I’m so sorry please forgive me. And nothing happened she tried but I really was just talking her home.”

You ended up forgiving him. What can you say?

He has a good tongue.

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that, so fast

'Cause no one's more amazing at turning loving into hatred

After he was done you pulled him up by his hair. “This does not mean I forgive you. If you want to be mine or whatever you have to stay in my good graces.”

He doesn’t know how fast you can turn loving into hatred.

(I won't give a fuck about you)

I'll tell the world you finish your chores prematurely

“Yea he only lasts like ten seconds.” Nate fucked up again so you’re telling everyone he finishes early.

You told him not to fuck up so that’s his fault. Not yours.

Break my heart, and I swear I'm movin' on

Nate heard about the stuff you were saying and went to confront you but you were making out with another guy by his locker.

He has no idea how you moved on that fast.

Want you every second, don't need other guys

You do something sus', kiss my cute ass bye-ye-ye

You got back with Nate because other guys were boring.

______

You were getting ready for a date when Nate texted you.

Nate <3

something came up sorry

Y/n

kiss my ass

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that, so fast

'Cause no one's more amazing at turning loving into hatred

When you told Nate to kiss your ass you were going to apologize but that was before you saw him with another girl that night.

So now you officially don’t give a fuck about this or him.

No, I won't, I won't give a fuck about you

He kept trying to make big gestures so you can forgive him but like you told him before you won’t give a fuck about him.

He didn’t actually believe that.

He never dealt with someone like you before.

No, I won't, I won't give a fuck about you

An: im on my grind yall