#saints being way more plant

[gay-artificer]

When they bumped up the price of RW they said it was because they wanted it to better reflect a game they were going to put more work into and like, people on steam keep being rude about that and like, implying its ‘unfinished’ now or that they should be expecting another DLC announcement as if one didn’t come out so newly that they haven’t even gotten it ported to console yet. Like im fairly certain what that meant is that with the DLC release they wanted to do some extra work on the game to address any flaws and other things people might want... Basically “we want to get this exactly how the community would like” kinda thing. Hell there was an accessibility survey posted to the discord and I assume the idea there is to add in a set of tools for specifically accessibility issues vs. the remix options more general controls

[lovelyghst]

soft-tummy simon riley save me… cause you cannot look at that man and tell me he doesn’t love to eat!! like, a constant snacker. and his heart absolutely swells when you indulge so heavily in his needs.

it’s practically his love language, to scarf down anything you put on the table in front of him, and you can certainly tell since now he’s not nearly in the same shape as he was when you found him.

he likes to think you’ve fixed him in a way; spending his evenings cuddling in bed for hours on end with you, rather than heading to the gym for the second time that day to burn off dinner. thanking you for the savory meal with kisses all over instead of fighting off the impulse to purge his usual bland chicken breast and vegetables every night.

and it all hits him far, far deeper than just his gut; feeling it in his heart more than the soft layer of fat blanketing his tummy he has to see in the mirror every morning. just the fact that a sweet thing like you wants to take care of him, ensure he eats plentiful yet still healthy for his work, has him whipped. showering him with endless i love you’s and praising him all up and down until his cheeks tint a light, flustered pink and his dick gets achingly hard in his pants.

he won’t pretend the change was easy on him, seeing the clean-cut abs and fit appearance that made him feel young fade away the further you got into your relationship, but he’d also be a filthy liar if he said he didn’t prefer the pros to his current build way more.

simon begins wearing shirts less around the house on his lazy days, at your lovely request of course, and it does feel quite freeing. especially when he’s able to come up behind you in the kitchen, cage you in with his burly arms, bend you over the counter and fuck you senseless because part of the deal was that his shirts would go to you, and with nothing but your lace panties on underneath.

he can’t help but get riled up seeing you walk around like that, and you’re no saint either when you catch a glimpse of his broad chest and relaxed, pillowy belly as he reads the morning newspaper. you tend to drop to your knees and tug at his boxers faster than he can even greet you properly, showing him just how much you love him.

he loves eating you out more than anything, especially with a full tummy after a late meal. you’ll take his and your empty plates to the kitchen to clean up, but you’re being bent over the counter before you can even wipe it down!! and squealing his name in surprise won’t stop him, nor will your giggles as he’s lifting the skirt of your dress to reveal your pretty ass, getting down on his knees and delving right in.

dragging his tongue through your drenched seam, grinning softly against your skin when you jolt and whine out of sensitivity. tongue-fucking your pretty, tight hole only for a moment before he’s returning to messily play with your swollen clit.

and you just know it’s entirely selfish, simon not even paying mind to the way your legs shake and relentlessly convulse and you can barely stay still because his stubble is unceasingly tickling your inner thighs. making you cum until you can’t anymore, and he’s happily forced to carry your numbed, twitchy body to bed so you can catch your breath and rest while he finishes up the chores.

would probably send you off by say something cliché about you being his favorite dessert. he’s so stupid when he’s horny.

simon is weak for when you ride his stomach, with both his hands planted firmly on your hips as you rub your bare pussy back and forth on his hard abdomen. his hidden muscles become more apparent the longer you go at it and the harder he holds you down, little whimpers spilling from your puffy lips as the light hairs coating his tummy create just the perfect amount of friction to your poor, little clit for that hot, familiar sensation in your lower belly to bubble up.

your hands clawing at his chest and shoulders, leaving lines and crescent indents in his skin that soon turn red in their wake, and the pain only turns him on more, his cock excruciatingly hard, long hums of pleasure omitting straight from his throat as he grits his teeth.

“yeah, that’s it, sweetheart—there’s my dirty girl. jus’ keep goin’ for me now, don’t stop… make yourself cum without me touchin’ you down there, ‘nd then i’ll fuck you real nicely after. alright, princess?”

and you soon follow through with just that, nodding decorously with tears welling at your eyes’ waterlines before you’re lurching forward, crying out his name. thighs giving out and fighting to ride out your orgasm, where simon then saves you with his attentive grip on your hips, finishing the job for you rather recklessly.

“good fuckin’ girl… y’did so well for me, love,” and every other gruff, dragged word of praise in his vocabulary echos in your fuzzy mind as you come down from your high.

you’re still catching your breath, fulling laying on his chest by the time he’s inching you backwards whilst taking his hard dick out from his boxers. lifting your weak hips for you as he whispers small, reassuring hushes right by your ear, soothing your winces as he fully sheathes you on his thick cock, inch by fucking inch.

he fucks himself up into you, not daring to make you overwork your body anymore, and he handles you so delicately you could almost fall asleep on his mattress of a body. you crumble to pieces with the vibrations of his chest from his unending groaning, the feeling of his veiny and rough cock stretching and filling you to the brim almost becoming minute compared to the sleepiness washing over you.

“there ya go, pretty… don’t have’ta do any work now, jus’ like i promised, eh?” he coos, and he could feel you smiling against his collarbone. one of his large hands cradles the back of your head while the other gropes at your ass lovingly. “takin’ me just fine, sweet girl.”

you bury your heated face into his squishy pectoral, whining at the overstimulation to your clit at the particular angle, left so utterly sensitive from your prior orgasm. you’re limp in his strong hold, securer than ever as he lifts your hips up and down his thick cock.

he uses your tender cunt ‘til he’s satisfied, groaning right up against your ticklish ear when he empties his hot cum in your throbbing pussy, the perfect thing milking him dry and turning you exhausted.

he actually sits in the moment for a peaceful while, coddling you against his rising and falling chest and murmuring sweet praises, until eventually his disciplined brain kicks in despite your protests.

“don’t go passin’ out on me yet, sweetheart.” you grumble out a refusing noise which makes him laugh softly, but apparently it’s not enough to win him over. “let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?”

(simon and his size difference & free use kinks go CRAZY in this one. also this instagram reel is so him coded ok bye bye <3 cont.)

[kombuuuu]

Miles 42 headcanons?

no one asked but i’ll deliver !!

Miles!42 x Fem!Reader random headcanons

also a lot of snippets :)

You/Reader: Blue

Miles Morales: Purple

Mama Rio/Rio Morales: Pink

Uncle Aaron/Aaron Morales: Orange

Random/stranger: Black

—

gift giving love language duhhh

Will have you walk with him through malls and whatever you look at for a second too long he buys

You don’t catch on until you’re both eating at a nice restaurant, absentmindedly staring at some plant when a lull in conversation happens.

He purchases the plant.

“Fuck you mean I can’t buy it?”

“Sir, the plants aren’t for sale, this is a dining establishment.”

“Establish the fact I’m gettin’ that plant.”

“Sir—“

50 bucks down and a plant 🆙

He will damn right die if you refuse him. He’ll get all grumpy and pouty when you say he should save for a house, not for you.

convinced you just get shy when bought things (you do).

is even more motivated to buy things

“Miles, baby, you need to save up. Not spend on me!”

“This would look so good on you, Ma.”

“Are you listening??”

“Fuck, and this.”

“Oh my god.”

gets so jealous it’s unbelievable

but only when someone goes too far with you

it’s like 1–100 real quick

he’s not usually the prowling type (ha)

but when someone pushes the line he loses his shit

other than that he’s a supportive bbg all the way

“Wanna go home with me, butterface?”

“Fuck you just say?”

“Nothing homie just get outta here.”

“Say that shit again ‘homie’.”

“Chill the fuck out. Let the lady speak for herself.”

“I’ll fucking speak for my girl all I want, homeboy.”

maybe got a liiiiittle bit of an anger issue

guy went home with a broken nose and a missing tooth

better hope he can afford fill ins

he would never get mad at you though

he gets frustrated you don’t listen sometimes, but it’s never to the point of anger

feel like he has the patience of a fucking SAINT

calm and collected baby u know the deal

“Mami, we gonna have a problem?”

“”

“Didn’t think so.”

a SWEETHEART at times

stand by him being raised right

mama rio taught him to be a romantic

wanted him to take after his dad

so flowers and gifts and chocolates

followed by lovin of any kind

probably a baby for affection but doesn’t show it

so when you get all emotional about being gifted roses for the first time

and hug him and smother him

give him stupid little kisses all over

he’s fainting

poor boy doesn’t know love like u show him

“Baby, are these for me?”

“Yeah, Chiquita. They okay?”

“Wh… They’re perfect.”

“Are you cryin’? I can return ‘em.”

“No! No, no, don’t do that.

I love them, C’mere.”

when you guys get rlly comfortable, like a year and some dating, he ends up getting more chatty

willingly talking w you for hours

feels like you’re the only person he can rlly do that with

rambles so rarely that you kind of just sit in awe when it happens

doesn’t catch himself until he’s trying to name your future kids

“I’ll marry you one day, we’ll have like two, three kids. Get all nice an cozy.

You want a boy or girl? I kinda want both. Definitely not girl first, never having a girl without a brother to protect ‘er.

You’d be such a good Mami.

What’d you wan’ name ‘em? I have a few ideas—“

“..”

“But you could choose the girl cause I don’t know any pretty names. And i’ll choose—“

“..”

“..”

“You gon’ let me keep goin?”

“I love your voice.”

“Tranquila, mami.”

Takes you to every family event he ever has

sits you regularly with Rio and Aaron

they insist you call them uncle and ma

you do, obviously

miles doesn’t need to meet your family if you don’t want him to, but if he ever does he’s totally suave with them

like weirdly smooth

able to get on ur carers good side quick

when you meet his extended family they’re just as loving

his whole family is this bright dash of colour

and you fit right the fuck in

“¡Oh, hija estás preciosa!”

“Dice la estrella de la fiesta!”

“You flatter me, Hija.”

“Miles, come get your girl.”

“You look nice too, Uncle Aaron.”

“..Thanks, kid.”

“Hey Mami, havin’ fun?”

“Aight, I’m out.”

when you find out he’s the prowler you’re not really shocked

he’s hella nervous to tell you and kinda puts it off for a while

as long as you’re not in harms way, nothin matters, yeah?

no

the guilt eats him alive

he’s already lost so much, if he doesn’t do things right with you, then loses you too

he’d probably lose himself

so he tells you

“The Prowler?”

“Yeah.”

“The.. Panther guy I keep seeing on the news-?”

“Mm.”

“Miles are you—

..—Are you killing people?”

“Mami, it’s not like that—“

“oh my god.”

“These men— I kill,”

“Oh my god, oh my god.”

“,They’re bad, you understand.”

“Miles..”

“[Name]. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.. Yeah I understand.”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.”

“…”

“Are you mad.”

“I’m not happy.”

“Okay.”

you’re kind of devastated he’s killing people

but you eventually get it

like it takes a while

say a month or so

but you forgive quick

i mean, who knows what those men are doing, right?

(ur delulu but it’s ok)

he lets you have your space but talking with mama rio when she realises your absence knocks some sense into him

mans is going to GROVEL

he will fucking beg on his damn knees

knocks on your door and is already kneeling

will plead with you to come back to him

like i said a whole ass romantic

you know what’s romantic? a man who can get on his knees

he will suffocate you in gifts and affection

oh you like (insert sanrio esc character) ? look over there at that lifesize plushie woahhhh wonder who that’s forrrrrr

“Hello?”

“Mami, don’t close the door.”

“Miles, go home.”

“And please stop kneeling, the floor is dirty.”

“I’m not leaving ‘til you hear me out.”

looooong sigh

“Okay, fine— whatever, come inside. You have two minutes.”

“God, I missed you. You’re so beautiful Chiquita.”

“Three minutes.”

You talk it out easy, he’s a real smooth talker when he wants to be

“Okay Miles, I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?”

“Yeah, Ma. See you soon.”

“Wh—.. What is that?”

“Ohhh…”

“Why the fuck is it so big?”

“It said “Life Size” on the site? I was thinking like two feet tall.”

“You bought that?”

“Yeah.. I was thinkin’ you wouldn’t let me in. Would have to bribe you.”

“…That’s really cute.”

Annnnnd that’s all i can come up with i’ll probably do more later :P

[astonmartinii]

Could you do a smau where she’s max’s sister and dominating MotoGP the way max is f1. Maybe they have the typical annoying younger sister/protective big brother relationship and he finds out she’s dating one of the f1 drivers? Xx

cherry lip balm | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x motogp!verstappen!reader

the verstappen siblings run motorsport, but the youngest's f1 allegiances may belong elsewhere

f1 and motogp

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 1,405,466 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, yourusername

f1 and motogp: happy international siblings day to max and y/n verstappen, these two have 60 wins between them 🏆

view all comments

user1: my faves i love them

user2: the way jos wasn't gonna let them kids do anything else lol

yourusername: + victoria verstappen the patron saint who puts up with both of us love you 🥰

maxverstappen: you mean putting up with you ? i'm a mature man of the world now

yourusername: girl you are fussier than all of our nephews put together mature MY ASS

maxverstappen1: i am mature and i have BOUNDARIES

yourusername: yeah you have boundaries between all your food you bland man

victoriaverstappen: i think you just proved y/n right

user3: they are the most unhinged people ever i feel so bad for victoria lol

user4: patiently waiting for y/n's championship

marcmarquez93: no marquez representation?

yourusername: you need to serve more

maxverstappen1: you guys don't have the verstappen sass

user5: someone needs to stop them 😭

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 832,771 others

yourusername: the two sides of a race week

view all comments

user6: the way she won this race and was like yeah i need that 0.5 of me drinking coffee actually

yourusername: it's a hot chocolate cause i'm a child

user7: are we all collectively ignoring the whole ass man on the last slide?

maxverstappen1: no we're not Y/N Y/M/N VERSTAPPEN CALL ME THIS INSTANT

yourusername: calm it on the all caps and maybe i'll call you

maxverstappen1: MAYBE?

yourusername: well that's not making it any better maxie

user8: i can't loose this parasocial relationship y/n get that man's hands off of you now

landonorris: y/n please pick up max's call he's threatening to throw my monza trophy PLEASE PICK UP I DON'T HAVE THAT MANY TROPHIES

yourusername: please refer to my previous comment about all caps and then come back

landonorris: y/n may you please call your beloved brother back so my very limited trophy collection does not get destroyed

yourusername: sure just for you lando ❤️

maxverstappen1: STOP FLIRTING PLEASE

yourusername: i just picked up ... and ur still commenting (plus that's not lando in the pic btw he's too skinny to be him)

landonorris: why am i getting bullied by both verstappens today, i'm just trying to help :(

maxverstappen1

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,034,661 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: there's no party like a verstappen party and a verstappen-only party with no BOYFRIENDS because they don't exist :)

view all comments

user14: ahaha passive aggressive max is my fave

yourusername: just cause you're too much of a pussy to ask charles out so i can't have a boy friend?

maxverstappen1: what?

yourusername: what?

user15: max as overprotective brother is my new favourite thing

danielricciardo: i fear y/n is 22 years old and her own woman

yourusername: awwww thanks danny at least one man here has SENSE

maxverstappen1: how much did she pay you to comment that?

danielricciardo: she didn't pay me but my house plant currently at hers was being held at gun point

yourusername: i would never

danielricciardo: so i can delete my comment

yourusername: do that and sheila gets it

user16: i know we should be more concerned with max going insane, but daniel's choice of name for his house plant is the most pressing issue

user17: hear me out but for comedic purposes ... i need y/n's bf to be a driver

maxverstappen1: do not speak that into the universe

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 808,943 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: i like the taste of her cherry lip balm

view all comments

user22: what 😭 the 😭 fuck 😭

yourusername: you don't taste half bad either ;)

oscarpiastri: come back to bed

maxverstappen1: NO NO NO STOP RIGHT THERE OSCAR JACK PIASTRI WHAT ARE YOU DOING DON'T SAY THAT ABOUT MY SISTER

oscarpiastri: how do you know my middle name?

maxverstappen1: i called your mum, anyhow YOU ARE A DEAD MAN

oscarpiastri: how did you get my mum's number?

maxverstappen1: i'm trying to threaten you please stop asking questions

yourusername: maxy please stop trying to be scary i know you still wear footy pjamas at christmas

maxverstappen1: well i hope oscar is terrified by my christmas spirit

user23: i feel like i lose brain cells watching y/n and max talk to each other

user24: we ignoring the fact that max managed to get oscar's mum's number just to ask for his middle name PETTY KING

maxverstappen1: it was more than a middle name, i needed a character witness

yourusername: CHARACTER WITNESS? YOU WORK WITH HIM? YOUR BEST FRIEND IS HIS TEAMMATE?

maxverstappen1: i understand you are making points and no one has a bad word to say about him ... but i've got to stick to the bit now

oscarpiastri: so i'm not going to die in hungary?

maxverstappen1: no. but keep all your business to yourself, i don't need to know what lip balm my sister uses and that you own a bed

oscarpiastri: got it 🫡

user25: well that was dramatic

maxverstappen1

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,203,788 others

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri

maxverstappen1: congrats on your first podium in f1 oscar, welcome to the family i guess ... don't take photos on my phone every again

view all comments

user28: so we can all say oscar has max's approval now?

user29: mans was like wow he challenged me in the race he has the stamp of approval now

yourusername: jokes on you we look great @oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri: and what the people don't know is that max was also doing face masks with us

maxverstappen1: not the serve you think it is i am very secure in my masculinity

yourusername: i'm glad you've gotten over your weird older brother act ... does this mean you'll both come to my next race?

oscarpiastri: i'll be there :)

maxverstappen1: i guess

yourusername: whooooooooop finally

user30: the way i am so happy for oscar i feel like i've been on this journey with him

user31: honestly rookie of the year and it's not even close

user30: i was talking about him and max... but yeah he's doing great !!!

landonorris: can i also get a pass for your next race y/n for keeping it a secret?

maxverstappen1: WHAT

yourusername: ur so dumb i actually can't

oscarpiastri: i'm not helping you here dude i just got approval

landonorris: well now i regret helping you guys

maxverstappen1: open your door lando

user32: is he dead?

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 1,348,300 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri

yourusername: fifth win of the season, my family and the love of my life, what could be better

view all comments

user33: i feel like the shit storm of max and oscar has defo distracted us from the fact that f1 and motogp fans are suffering through a verstappen winning nearly every race

maxverstappen1: i want everyone to appreciate my character growth as i took that gross ass last photo

yourusername: thank you maxy, what a sacrifice

oscarpiastri: thanks dude, you did push me in the water right after though

maxverstappen1: uh you snooze you lose, a verstappen rule of life, you had no phone on you so fair game, i thought you wanted to be part of this family

oscarpiastri: I DO ... does this mean i can push you in next time?

maxverstappen1: absolutely not.

yourusername: do it anyway osc i'll protect you babe

oscarpiastri: idk i'm scared

yourusername: he's ticklish he's so easy to beat

maxverstappen1: THAT WAS A SECRET Y/N

user34: if you told me last season that i'd see max go from wanting to kill piastri to being brothers with him and that i'd know he wears footy pjs and is ticklish i'd laugh in ur face

maxverstappen1: ONLY AT CHRISTMAS

oscarpiastri: don't worry mate i think it's cute

maxverstappen1: okay now i prefer you over y/n

yourusername: who? what? where? when? why?

oscarpiastri: soz babe you snooze you lose

note: ahhhhh i really enjoyed writing this so i hope you enjoy i love writing comment domestics if you couldn't tell lol xx

[jo-com]

🎧₊ ꪆৎ ˚⋆. ➛ The other Woman

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mieux

Summary: You’ve grown tired of the baseless rumors that you’re ‘the third party’— worst part is, Charles and Alex doesn’t defend you.

Genre: A little SMAU, Angst, Poly established relationship

Fc: Alexa Demie

Note: there are some grammar errors and this is not proofread also I figured i do an angsty fiction bcs i always write about fluff and just wanted to switch things up! Hope you enjoy thiis!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist. (Part 2)

─────── ─ ⋆˚࿔☕️ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆─ ───────

Your heart clenched from sorrow as you scrolled further down the comment section— a mixed of different emotions coursing through your mind stream, making your heart and head throb with the growing pain.

Every hurtful banters went straight through your heart, as if they were knives; stabbing you in the most gruesome way.

The tears that you tried to held back is now pushing their way out of your eyelids, ready for them to fall down your porcelain cheeks.

As you red more— the feeling of discomfort subdued your thoughts and was in need of comforting.

So that’s what you did. Finding comfort in something or someone.

You hurriedly exited twitter with shaky hands and went straight to your contacts, ready to find the three of your’s group chat.

Expecting them to make your heart at ease and say nothing but endless affirmations.

…

➛ Message

…

Or so you thought.

You let out a heavy sigh— the stinging sensation in your chest won’t stop and was aching even more with each words that they replied with.

The hurt in your heart caused your pent up tears to pour down your cheeks, making a stream of profound sadness evident in your complexion.

You didn’t get why they were like that to you, i mean they did care even if it were a little, but saying that you’re overreacting is just crossing the line. If it were about them, they’d be all over the place. Things really are just different when it comes to you.

As those thoughts clouded your mind— the fear of being abandoned popped up. Planting an uneasy feeling grow deep in your heart.

…

The following days, you’ve avoided them like the plague— canceling their calls and making excuses whenever they ask you to go out, dismissing them with your lame transparent reasons.

But they didn’t buy it and kept on chatting you in all of your social media accounts.

Even after flooding your messages they still wouldn’t stop, and the same goes with your feelings. The hurt will always stay and keep on following you.

Those days also got you to rethink whether or not your important and do they even have a place for you in their heart. Earning a lot of sleepless days and silent cries; all alone in your own embrace.

The only two person who’ve known about your messy state were lily and alex.

Unlike the two, they were nothing but supportive and was giving you the comfort you needed in the first place. You wished that Alex and Charles was like that;

…

But instead of mopping around all weak, you’ve decided to take Lily’s offer in going out.

Unbeknownst to your two lovers of your whereabouts— still hurt from your previous conversation.

…

Miss.yn

Liked by Lilymhe and 12,789 others

Miss.yn Out of sight, out of mind💋

Tagged; @Lilymhe

View all comments

Username1 ATE THAT DRESS UPP

Lilymhe just wow🤤🤤

Miss.yn Love yaa!!

Username2 they could never make me hate u!!

Francisca.cgomes invites when??

Miss.yn Next time, i promise

Francisca.cgomes 🙄🙄🙄

Lilymhe i wanna go again😢

Miss.yn I know u miss me already🤭

Lilymhe i always do though??

Alex_albon weirdo.

Comments have been restricted

…

After posting your pics and not even 30 minutes have passed when you’ve received countless text messages of Alex and Charles.

…

After that, your whole world seem to be falling apart.

You couldn’t even count the days where you just laid in bed and only stared at the ceiling waiting for the hours to past.

Neither Alex and Charles chatted you after. Leaving a big hole in your heart— a hole that only they can fill.

The break up was a stupid idea but it was either that or stay with a relationship that doesn’t value your feelings. They’ve hurted you, not physically but emotionally and you had every right to be angry.

You just wished that they said something to even comfort your tearing heart.

That’s all you wanted from the start. Words of affirmation and comfort from the ones you love.

Was it too much to ask?

…

Hi i am back, sorry for not posting in a while, i really had this writers block that just couldn’t leave😓😓 hope you enjoyed this angst though!!

[dailyadventureprompts]

Thirsting Grail, Outergod of Wants and Wounds

Artsource

Adventure Hooks:

While travelling the party encounters a once famed surgeon who seeks their help in undertaking pilgrimage to the distant shrine of a death god. When pressed on her motivation, she reveals that through some curse or divine act of cruelty, those she operates on can never die, but also cannot heal. 

There is a tree that grows in the ruins of the old braon’s castle, said to have sprouted from the chopping block upon which he had his wife’s lovers executed. The tree grows no leaves, only flowers, and it’s said that if you make a tea from its blossoms, you will receive a vision of your one ture love.  Beings of woven thorn are said to guard the tree, but there are those who would pay desperately to drink of its boughs. 

A once peaceful kingdom dissolves into a generations long civil war, any hope of peace drowned beneath a tide of violence, ruination, and grievance that none can hope to escape.

Among the outergods there are none more eager to engage with mortals than the entity known as Thisting Grail. It is a thing of violence and appetite, and seems all too eager to lend its power to those most likely to misuse it, whether they sought it’s aid in the first place or not. 

Scholars and madmen have long debated the Grail’s motivations, what goal or ideology it is trying to achieve with the visions and often horrific miracles it bestows. In truth, Thirsting Grail has no goal beyond the pursuit of violence and longing, it is a means without an end, ready to lend itself to any cause that would make the world a bloodier, hungrier place. 

The god is formless, an ocean of boling blood that takes on the shape of whatever “vessel” its followers imagine for it, borrowing their cultural iconography and birthing itself anew each time. There are litanies of these avatars, hundreds more likely forgotten by history;  blood saints and baleful red stars and heart hungry blades. Perhaps because of blood’s ubiquity in ritual and occult practice the Grail’s influence can “seep” its way into the worship of other entities, divine or demonic, and it’s not unheard of for otherwise upstanding and dogmatic worshippers of banal gods to accidentally begin practising the grail’s bloody rites. 

Sanguimancy and other forms of blood magic are the most obvious of Thirsting Grail’s gifts, but it has other more esoteric offerings: smoke from sacrifices or incense mingled with the formless god’s essence can grant visions of desires made manifest, though often twisted through a disturbingly carnal (in both senses of the word) lens. All too often worshippers ( and the cult leaders that encourage them) see these visions as prophetic, leading to the outergod being sometimes called “the mother of truth”.  It can also manifest the objects of desire: succulent fruits, unearthly lovers, weapons of inordinate power, but there is something fundamentally wrong with these creations as they cannot grant true satisfaction, and often leave those that partake of them wanting more than when they started. 

Those who fall prey to Thirsting Grail’s influence can become warped as their own veins become polluted by the entity’s ichor: becoming feral creatures of endless cruelty and appetite, or having their wounds open wider and wider until there is nothing but wound remaining of their swollen flesh. Those so overtaken grow and warp and merge with others until new horrors are birthed from them, a permanent seedbed of 

Titles: Mother of truth, formless mother, font erubescent, the bloodstar.  Symbols: A red grail or fountain, cultural iconography stained with blood.  Signs:  Wounds that bleed but do not heal, plants overflowing or cracking open to expose their innards. Unsettling red dreams.  Worshippers: Those with bloodstained hands be they doctors, butchers, or murderers. Vampires, occultists, and other sanguiphiles. Instatiable gourmands and unfulfilled lovers.   

Inspiration:  I wear my influences on my sleeve with this one.  I’ve been turning the Elden Ring mythology over in my mind for some time partially because I think there’s a lot of fun ideas there but also because I felt like (in typical Fromsoft fashion) there wasn’t enough shown to really scratch my itch for discovery. 

The formless mother/bloodstar was chiefest among these elements: A killer aesthetic with lore that was a little too thin to use as inspiration. After a while that thinness turned into a feature, the idea of an eldritch entity of pain and violence that conformed to the needs of those who worshipped it, granting power to those who would go out and make the world more violent and painful.  I liked the idea that “mother of truth” was a misnomer, and that cultists would ascribe meaning and intent and iconography to a god that didn’t care one way or another. 

Another strong influence is the Grail from Cultist Simulator/Book of hours ( SERIOUSLY, play book of hours you fools), an eldritch entity/aspect of reality that presides over hungers and births be they literal or figurative.  The Blood + Mother connection was obvious here, but the Grail provided some more texture and esoteric aspects to fill out my version’s storytelling potential.

[aemondsbabe]

Love is Patient and Kind

summary: hand holding & dry humping || you aren't ready to take the next step with your monk, luckily for you he has the patience of a saint

pairing: osferth x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dry humping, very fluffy, osferth being cute and understanding and ruining other men for everyone, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 2.5k

a/n: welcome to day one of 12 days of smuff!! hope y'all enjoy this one! Can be read as part 1 to Wind��s Howling or as a stand alone!

12 days of smuff masterlist

gif creds to @thecruel!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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“Are you sure you do not wish for me to carry that, my lady?” Osferth asks for the millionth time, nodding his head at the basket, laden with various herbs and medicinal plants, in the crook of your elbow. 

For the millionth time, you merely shake your head with a crooked smile. “I wish only for your company, monk,” you glance over at him as the two of you walk through the forest, admiring the way the early afternoon sun casts a golden halo through his hair, “I told you as much when we left camp this morning.”

Osferth merely nods in reply; your man is one of few words. A soft blush blooms across your cheeks at the thought – your man, but it was as good as true. Osferth was the first man in Uhtred’s company you felt comfortable with when you joined their cause all those months ago when they’d stopped in your small hamlet in need of a healer; you’d been by their side ever since.

In the months since, your relationship with the monk had steadily grown from hushed whispers around the campfire in the dead of night, when sleep eluded the both of you, to heated glances, delicate touches, and stolen kisses. More recently, Osferth had all but insisted on accompanying you nearly everywhere you went, which is how he’d come to follow you as you walked through the forest to gather the variety of curative plants you need.

A content sigh passes your lips as you tilt your head up, taking in the way the tips of the trees stretch up toward the blue sky. “I had almost forgotten what the sun looked like,” you joke, your heart squeezing proudly in your chest as the monk chuckles next to you, “But hopefully this summer will be dryer than the last.”

“I have prayed many times for sun,” Osferth says with a nod, blue eyes soft as he gazes at you, “Unfortunately, the Lord seems to ignore those requests.” The corner of his lips tilts up as he huffs a laugh at his own joke. 

Suddenly, a branch snaps loudly not too far off the winding path the two of you have been strolling down. Osferth acts quickly, ever vigilant, and takes your hand to usher you behind him as he draws his sword. Your breath quickens as you peek around his shoulder, pressing yourself tightly against his back as your hand grips his; you’d been assured by Uhtred’s scouts that the forest surrounding camp was perfectly safe, but in these times danger seemed to creep up from every corner. 

A buck appears a little ways down the path, followed by two more deer, each sparing you and the monk only a quick glance before scampering into the forest once more. The two of you let out a collective sigh of relief as Osferth sheaths his sword with a shy smile. 

“Perhaps now would be a good time for a break, my lady?” He suggests with a soft smile, “We’ve been walking since morning.”

“I think we’ve earned a break,” you nod, gazing up at him through your lashes, the two of you still close enough that you could make out soft flecks of green in his blue eyes, “I believe I saw a clearing a few paces back.” 

“Lead the way.” Osferth nods, keeping in pace with you as you backtrack to where you’d spotted a lush clearing through the trees only moments ago. As you walk, nearly shoulder to shoulder, the monk silently takes your hand again, his rough fingers threading together with yours. Neither of you speaks, though you can nearly feel his pleased smile from your periphery, twin to your own. 

After only a few moments, you veer off the path as the two of you step into a sizable glade, the trees giving way to a field of tall grass. Your hands stay clasped as you walk together, basket still tucked in your elbow as you lift the skirts of your linen gown to prevent it from snagging on the high blades of grass; your chest tightens once more when you glance down and notice how Osferth takes great care to step over any flowers in his path, the ones that sprinkle the meadow with pops of yellow and lilac. 

Soon, you come to a spot where the ground seems to be drier, however the monk grasps your forearm to stop you as he slips the thin, grey wool cloak off his shoulders and drapes it over the ground.

“Osferth,” you gently admonish, though a smile does creep across your lips at the sweet gesture, “I am perfectly capable of sitting on the ground.”

“A lady should not have to,” he says simply, nodding to the cloak, “Please.”

With a final glance, and a good-natured roll of your eyes, you comply, setting your basket down before relaxing atop his robe. After making sure you’re settled, the monk joins you, setting his sword to the side as he sits and leans back on his hands, scanning the treeline. 

“It’s so lovely here…” you smile as you glance around, a soft breeze causing the grass to rustle around you.

Osferth sits up beside you, a relaxed smile on his lips as he takes your hand and pulls you closer to him. “I find the company to be far lovelier,” he whispers before capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, never taking more than you seem keen to give. The two of you easily fall into a lazy rhythm, your lips moving together as he guides you to lie against his chest. You lay your hand against his chest, right over his heart, thankful that he’s forgone his usual leather armor and chainmail today as you feel his warmth through the soft tunic he wears. 

He sighs against your lips, his fingers gently weaving into the locks of hair at the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine and making you cling to him all the more tightly, his other hand wrapping around your waist before settling in the small of your back, holding you to him. 

After a few moments, the two of you part to catch your breath and he studies you with a warm gaze as you relax against his chest. “We are meant to be stopping in a town tonight.” Osferth says simply. 

“That we are.” 

“We could get a room together,” he breathes, making you gasp as he trails kisses across your jaw, “Just the two of us.” 

Immediately, you tense up and untangle yourself from him, sitting up with a sigh. He quickly sits up next to you and you can feel him eyeing you with concern, though you dare not meet his gaze. 

“My lady, I didn't mean to offend you…” He says hesitantly, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“You didn’t offend me, sweet monk,” you turn to him with a bashful smile, “I am simply…I don’t know if i’m ready.” 

“Ready for what?” His head tilts to the side as he eyes you curiously. 

You chuckle nervously, unsure of how to broach the topic. “Osferth, I have heard enough tales of your…prowess around the campfire to know that my skills do not match your own.” 

The crease between his brows only deepens as he continues staring at you, blue eyes flitting between your own. “My prowess?” 

“With more…intimate relations…” You say slowly, glancing away from him. 

“Oh,” he says softly before his eyes widen comically, a dark blush cascading over his fair cheeks, “Oh!”

You can’t help but laugh softly at his dumbstruck expression, your lips quirking up into a soft smile despite your nerves. 

The hand on your shoulder tightens as he leans closer to you. “My love, you need not fret over it,” he whispers, blue eyes conveying a deep seriousness, “We can get a room at the tavern and not do anything at all.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion – you’ve always been told to expect a very different answer from men. “What?”

He huffs out a soft laugh and pulls you back down to lie on the grass with him once more. “I mean what I say,” he says softly, one hand stroking your hair, “We can get a room and just kiss or cuddle or merely talk, I don’t care.” You look up from where you’ve had your cheek laying against his chest, the emotion in his eyes shocking you for a second, “I just want to be with you.” He whispers finally.

You can feel yourself blushing as he speaks, the apples of your cheeks heating up deliciously under his kind gaze. A girlish giggle erupts from your lips before you can stop it, which only makes him laugh too as you bury your head against his chest and bite your lip, breathing in his familiar scent of leather and campfire smoke. 

After a moment, the two of you calm down and you finally look back up at him, “Kissing sounds good…” you nearly whisper, suddenly shy as he surveys your face.

Osferth merely chuckles, low in his throat, and rolls the two of you over. Normally, this is when you’d be pushing any other man off of you with some mumbled excuse, but you can’t help but feel safe with the sandy haired monk, taking him at his word that whatever you were willing to give would be enough.

“We have time, and plenty of herbs already,” he rasps, his voice thick with an arousal you’d only heard on a very scant few occasions when the two of you had shared frantic kisses in the night once the rest of the men were asleep, “Why wait until tonight?”

A small giggle escapes you once again as the blush on your cheeks extends down, almost all the way to your chest, but you nod nonetheless, your arms coming up to snake around his neck as you pull him down to you. A small whimpery breath escapes you when his lips touch yours yet again, and he responds in kind with a low groan, the sound rumbling from his chest. His lips are soft against your own as the two of you move leisurely; once again, he lets you set the pace, only licking at your bottom lip after you do the same to him first. 

Your thighs spread as your kiss deepens and you moan again when he slots himself between your thighs, the linen of your dress hiked up just above your knees. A shiver rolls through you at the feel of him on top of you, so warm and weighty.

“Is this alright?” He breathes, navy eyes blinking between each of yours as he checks for any signs of discomfort from you, visibly relaxing when he finds none.

Wordlessly, you nod, bobbing your head eagerly as you pull him back down. His hands roam carefully over your body as your lips and tongues move together, breathlessly licking into each other's mouths. You whine into his mouth when you feel a hardness pressing against your center, a pleased hum emanating from your chest at the realization that you’ve affected him this much with only a kiss; the pride in your heart twists into something different, something deeper as a knot forms and begins tightening in your belly.

“My lady –” Osferth mumbles as he starts to pull away from you, an apologetic smile on his handsome face.

“Don’t!” You say quickly, tugging him back to you and surprising even yourself as you wrap your legs around his trim waist, “Please, I – It’s good.” You confirm breathlessly, eyebrows quirked up with need as you look up at him through your lashes. 

“Yeah?” He asks, unable to wipe the pleased grin off his face as he settles back on top of you, careful to keep most of his weight off of you as he presses against your center again.

You nod, already threading your fingers into the short hair at the back of his head to draw his lips back to yours. A breathy, high-pitched moan leaves you at the feel of his clothed length pressing against you, the ties at the front of his breeches only adding to the pleasurable sensations that zap through you as he starts rolling his hips against your own.

His pace quickens as he breaks away from you, panting against your skin as he traces wet kisses down your jaw to your neck. Your head lolls to the side as you whimper and whine underneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel his hard cock twitch against you, even through the fabric of your smallclothes.

You’re quick to match his pace, using the leverage of your legs wrapped around his middle to ruck yourself up into each thrust, earning grunts of pleasure from the monk. 

“My lady,” he groans, one hand fisting into your hair as the other trails down to run appreciatively over the bare skin of your thigh, “Y-You are bewitching.” He gasps, mouthing at your neck, his cock no doubt leaking into the leather of his trousers. 

Your only reply is a choked out moan of his name as your back arches underneath him, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter as the ties of his breeches rub over your pearl deliciously, your smallclothes no doubt soaked. 

Blessedly, Osferth seems to understand the desperation in your voice and movements and pulls back to look at you, both of his hands quickly grasping yours, fingers threading together as he holds them to the earth beside your head.

 “Sweet girl,” he grunts as he gazes down at you, a rosy blush cascading beautifully over his high cheekbones, “P-Peak, my lady, please,” he pants as his fingers tighten against your own, “I’m, God be good, I’m right behind you.”

You nod frantically, your only sound a choked out sob as you tense underneath him when his hips rut perfectly against yours, the knots of his pants catching against your sensitive bud in just the right way to tip you over the edge. You twitch underneath him, white knuckling his hands when you feel your center clenching helplessly around nothing as pleasure buzzes through you. 

Osferth reaches his end mere seconds after you, humping against you two or three more times before tensing, his eyes squeezing shut as his own high washes over him, cock spasming in his breeches as his spend leaks into the waiting fabric. 

“You’re beautiful,” you declare softly, the words tumbling from your lips as soon as you think of them.

The monk blushes somehow more heavily above you, though a soft smile graces his lips. With a soft sigh, he falls to his side, bringing you with him. Your cheek once again finds its home against his chest and you smile at the sound of his heart thumping wildly as he pulls you closely to him, one arm wrapping protectively around you as he tucks the other under his head, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“You flatter me, my lady,” he says lowly, a pleased rasp to his voice. “You are truly an angel,” he continues after a moment, “A beautiful, precious angel.”

You smile contentedly, his heart thudding steadily in your ear as you let your eyes drift shut, happy to stay in this still, safe bubble with your monk for as long as the outside world will allow.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[gurggggleburgle]

I would like to make the joke that this winter you could sacriligously call Shen Yuan a Jesus figure who deserves a spot on your mantle and tree.

And why would we say that?

1) Father Son and Holy Spirit

Okay so we acknowledge the very real fact that Airplane is God of this world and what is the system if not an abstraction of the holy spirit? And I know what you're thinking how does this apply to Shen Yuan? What is his transmigration into Shen Qingqiu if not a Virgin Birth into a son of Airplane's writing who in PIDW is the narrative justification for all of Binghe's hate and also the eventual release of Binghe's trauma and corruption. Both a sacrificial lamb if you will.

2) resurrection

OK so while his deaths (for the sake of comedy accept big dick death) are all for binghe's sake in the end could one not argue strongly that these deaths carry the symbolic nature of self sacrifice, revival, and of course stigmata. The first death is of course the one that starts the novel where the humble Shen Yuan asks for absolution for the characters and the world of PIDW with his astute words of "dumbfuck novel dumbfuck author" in which he notes the fault of Lord Father Airplane and is born so he may die at the hands of his disciple who will ultimately betray them. His second death comes 3 years later and is the process once makes a statement of absolution towards his betrayer and to once again spare his fellow eleven other peak lords and and binghe who you can read as the 12 apostles. He then dies again in order to save both the world and in the process and absolve guilt and sin in the name of love and forgiveness.

3) stigmata

Much like our favorite anime protagonist from Saint Young Men our boy Shen Yuan experiences multiple cases of gaining stigmata. Stigmata in this instant referring to multiple injuries that Shen Yuan receives in one particular hand and visually in the animated adaptation appears to be the palm. Shen Yuan's hand which was used to read the sacred PIDW text and give head pats to his disciples was injured in saving Luo Binghe multiple times. In first gaining a deadly poison that seals his fate, then in being infected with a disease that ravaged the meek and innocent, third he gets plant spores that need to he repeatedly burned out of his flesh. These stigmata are symbols of his devotion and faith.

4) kindness to snakes and the less fortunate

In showing kindness to a snake Shen Yuan is able to restore Zhuzhi-Lang back to a more desired state much like the way Jesus cured disease. His efforts also resorted in saving the life of Liu Qingge who is restored much like Lazurus. These miracles act as proof of Shizun’s miracles. Proof of his acts as savior

5) god why have you forsaken me

Multiple times throughout the novel Shen Qingqiu can be seen raging against the system as well as Airplane which as we've discussed are both aspects of God. Jesus himself raged against God when forced to confront his own death and spoke of feeling betrayed and forsaken. The same can be said for the way Shen Yuan feels towards both his fate or and for the state of PIDW and Airplanes shitty writing.

6) throwing the money lenders from the temple

Honestly this is just an excuse to make a joke about Huan Hua palace and killing the old palace master.

7) knowing his own betrayal

A large element is that Judas's betrayal is not a surprise to Jesus. It is an inevitability he sees coming in much the same way that Shen Yuan sees Luo Binghe trying to kill him in revenge coming. There is an acceptance of an inevitable betrayal that both figures share

7) Gay

Much like Jesus our boy is gay and problematic

[chaossturns]

𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇 | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

⋆⑅˚₊ — synopsis: Matt has been shutting you out due to his personal problems, which is causing problems in your relationship.

“girl , you mean the world to me , yes , you do , ooh” - givēon

⋆⑅˚₊ — pairing: matt sturniolo x poc!reader

⋆⑅˚₊ — warnings: fighting, crying , swearing, angst, and a somewhat happy ending

a/n: i honestly kind of hate this but it’s wtv 😭 , also this is my first time writing angst so it may be a bit rough

a/n 2: @luverboychris saw this first 👀

⋆⑅˚₊ — word count: 0.6k

proofread

The sound of your foot tapping against the car floor and the rain pattering around you filled the silenced car.

Matt was now driving you home after you guys had gotten into a heated argument.

𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊

“Matt, you can’t keep shutting me out like this!” You yell to him, your hands hitting the side of your legs.

“I don’t need to tell you every fucking thing that’s happening right now. I just don’t okay!” He screamed back, turning his gaze from the floor to you.

“Well Matt, this relationship won’t last then will it?” You ask him, letting your anger get to you. “Just please talk to me, I promise we’ll be on the same page if you just open up.” your tone getting a bit quieter as you try to calm down.

“It’s not like you’re a fucking saint either.” He murmurs out, “You've done this before and I left you alone, but when it comes to me it seems like I can’t have that space can I?”

“I just wish you would vanish Matt,” you start. “then we wouldn’t have these fucking problems and arguments.” you say, your voice breaking towards the end, tears beginning to fall from you eyes. Matt’s face drops, his hands reaching towards you.

“Bab-“ Matt begins to say, but you cut him off. “No Matt, just take me home.” you say, slightly brushing his shoulder as you went out his bedroom door, and stomped your way to the car.

𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒��𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊

You turn your body and stare at the window, your mind clouded with thoughts. You loved Matt with your whole life, but he would just get so stressful sometimes, to the point where you thought this wouldn’t work out any longer.

Your eyes begin to water, thinking about all the times you and Matt were happy, laughing, and talking about total nonsense. Tears are now falling against your cheeks, small sobs being heard throughout the car.

Matt glances over at you, regretting his past decisions. He looks back towards the road, the windshield wipers hastily moving as the rain poured harder. His mind was racing with thoughts, not wanting to lose you due to his poor choices.

You put your arm against the car door, resting your head against. The car pulls into your neighborhood, the water covered ground reflecting the lights planted on the sides.

Matt slowly cruises the car down the streets, your house approaching soon. You feel the car come to a complete halt, now looking out the window, and seeing your house. You take your seatbelt off, not saying anything to Matt as you open the passenger door.

The rain comes pouring down against your body as you exit, slamming the car door behind you. You hear Matt’s door open and shut, now picking up your pace, just wanting to get inside.

Matt runs up to you, wanting to get some pressure off of his chest. You feel his cold hand grip onto your upper arm, securing you so you don’t get free.

“Matt let me go!” You yell to him, more tears wanting to break free from your eyes. Matt ignores your plea, pulling you flush upon his chest. You fully break down, not caring about how wet you’re getting from the heavy downpour. He engulfs you in a deep hug, kissing the top of your head while you sob into him.

“I fucking hate you.” You mumble, ragged and shaky breaths leaving your lips.

“I, I know,” he begins, “I’m so sorry.” an exhale of breath following after. You sniffle, gazing up at Matt’s dripping face.

“I got stuff to work on, you got stuff to work on.” Matt says, staring deeply into your eyes, his eyes filled with regret and sadness.

“But, we’re gonna, we’re gonna make it work.” He continues, lifting your chin slightly with his index finger.

“I love you , okay.” He reassures, placing his cold, soft lips against yours. Your lips dance with his as the rain overtakes your bodies, hoping things will work out for the both of you.

tags: @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @sturnsslut @bigbeefybitch @rileysturniolo @itsnotmariahh @summerssover @l0ver-i @thenickgirl @mattssluttygf @hoesformatt

[cutieeva]

Addicted

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞

Female Reader

Warnings : Manipulation. Brainwashing. Sexual assault. Mention of murders. Dubious consent. Detail sex. Blackmailing. Power abuse. Toxic relationship. Cheating. Home Invasion. Stalking.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

❛ 死神 ❜ Meeting Light yagami was a mere coincidence yet the several meetings again and again doesn't seem to be anymore because the more (Y/N) observe the more she realize how fake he is yet she fail to be aware of his twisted desires held for her

To be cousin of Misa is difficult could be understatement because it is much more than that, it's heart-wrenching, gulit, frustration and more complex emotions are mixed because watching her sister even if cousin sister break down into (Y/N)'s arms wailing to be back to her passed away parents is heart-wrenching.

Guilt due to the helpless (Y/N) felt for hopelessly comforting her with words that are lies and even have difficulty to be happy with her alive parents in front of her as if she is taunting her sister.

Frustration on her sister's newfound obsession with the serial killer Kira who's praises of anti-hero could be sang at the same time hatred was there for taking law on their own hands. No, (Y/N) isn't saint to think what the kira is doing completely wrong rather her opinion dances between supporting their way of cleaning filth yet hating how they do as they want which was prove by killing the false detective life simply case he hurt the killer's ego. Also a newfound emotion has planted within her manifesting to grow larger and larger which is : fear. Fear for the safety of her sister's alarming love for the Kira just cause they did a good deed of killing her parent's culprit. Fear of her sister ruining her life just to meet the said killer or being taken advantage of bad people in name of Kira.

However expect her surprise when she met Yagami Light, the most intelligent boy she shared her school with came to her house with her sister introducing to be her boyfriend standing beside Misa who squealing quietly just the same way (Y/N) notice whenever Kira's name is mention.

"How odd". She was beyond confuse of how Light was able to peel her obsession with the Kira because as much as she knows he is the epitome of justice even being the son of Yagami Soichiro, the leading head policer of ongoing Kira case. "They are vastly different. How come she is romantically involved with such man despite fangirling over a serial killer ?" She remembers meeting the boy due to the unusual events of that day.

"I am bored". (Y/N) thought with a sigh, unable to hear the boring theories of the professor are uttering as her (E/C) eyes gaze over the window she was sitting near when a quite grasp left her lips seeing a black notebook written something over it fell from the blue sky. "What the ?" Unable to comprehend she decided as soon as the class ended she would surely go outside to touch the notebook for at least to check.

Bell ring indicating finished last period made her quick to be at her feet holding her small black bag and run through the hallway. "These are the advantage of not having friends". She chuckle finally drumming over the dust and in front of the very same black book she saw earlier. "Death note". She read out loud about to touch when her sight saw someone else's palm hold the mysterious notebook as she look up meeting beautiful bronze eyes belonged to Light, her classmate.

"Is that yours ?" She asked pointing her finger to the notebook.

"Oh ! Of course not. Rather I saw it from the distance while walking outside the gate and thought to pick it up and deliver to the police station". He elaborate smiling gently as she always saw him in front of his friends, professors and each person alike.

"Oh".

"Well, seeing you ask me if it's mine automatically prove it's not yours right ?" (Y/N) shook her head, smiling nervously.

"Okay, then please submit the notebook to the police station for it's rightful owner to claim. I will take my leave". Feeling awkward and having nothing more to converse she decided to leave and finding his nod as a permission she left. Unaware he stayed until her figure disappeared.

"(L/N) ? Right ?" Light's voice ripped her from the clouded thoughts to find the boy sitting in front her, on the desk chair Misa uses.

"Uh, yes". (Y/N) nod, straighting her wrinkled clothes to appear at least presentable when seconds ago she was in mist of drawing a art that occupied her mind when the door burst open revealing cheerful Misa with her least expected classmate.

"Is her aunt your mother ? Judging from the different surnames". He asked further taking a look at her from head to toe discreetly as she sat on her bed.

"Yup ! She looks nothing like the lovesick girl". Ryuk pointed out Light's thoughts.

"Yes. My father is foreigner from (C/N) while mother is Japanese so you could say I am half Japanese". She smiled, still having doubts of their relationship. "So, could you say how you two met ? You know, love story ?" Misa laughed sitting beside her and linking their arms together.

"Well, it was love at fight sight for me". The blond girl shamelessly unraveled looking at her love, her savior, her lover ignoring the fact their relationship is an play. "I was in awe how a man could be both handsome and intelligent so I persistently tailed behind him until he couldn't deny me". Lies spewed her lips so smoothly (Y/N) belived while Light holding the urge to roll his eyes knowing they rehearsal the script beforehand.

"And when we were in relationship he slowly fell for me and I fell more". (Y/N) doubts were beginning to waver and smile soften spotting her cousin's eyes adoring cupid heart and her lips coated with sweet nothings.

"She loves him". Hearing each and every word from her lips speaking proved that, failing to noticing her single moves are observed and calculated by a certain brown head boy. Light from his correct understanding has known the classmate he clearly recall from their first meeting from finding the death note and discovering she is her cousin who has soft spot for Misa could be useful in upcoming events just like the another foolish shinigami, Rem but hopefully she doesn't become a thorn in his way otherwise he must pitifully execute her like the rest.

"Misa, can you bring some snacks from downstairs ? I am hungry". Light narrowed his eyes at the sudden request. "Also Yagami-san, would you like to have some too ?" He nod smiling a little.

"Okay ! Wait for me and oneesan do not try to talk behind my back ! Do you understand". The girl warned walking away giving her a playful glare earning a chuckle from (Y/N) that made Light stare at her.

"She look nothing like Misa nor is her behavior". Light had heard her name from Misa before meeting today yet fault due to not paying attention he couldn't recall her until he came inside the room meeting an familiar face from their few days intractions washing away all the expectation he had of how more irritating her sister could be. "She is gullible enough". He thought.

"So, Yagami-san, do you love her ?" The question was expected since he had re-think multiple questions to begin with. Smiling the perfect facade he replied in beat "Of course".

"And what is the points you like about her ?" (Y/N) watched his perfect facade carefully where he crafted to smile nervously and fidgets his fingers when in reality he is getting annoyed by her piling questions. She is annoying.

"I, like her everything. From her way of dressing to the way she cheerfully talks to her way of handling people and most importantly the fact she is so brave even after her parents has left the world. She is still hanging strongly as ever". The girl's smile dimmed at the mention of her dearest relatives death yet she paid attention to the sincerity unaware of the fact he made just for her to see.

"So, she shared her parent's death with you ?"

"Yes". No. It was the first reason she is attached to his hip. A nuisance death what he thinks.

"If she shared such vital topic that must mean she trust you enough". (Y/N) sigh, looking at his eyes. "Then you must also know her obsession with Kira ?" His muscles tense but he kept the act of nodding.

"Indeed. It was in the first weeks of our relationship I got to know her unhealthy obsession with the serial killer". A bitter taste left by the negative word he used at last.

"What do you think about Kira ?" Now, he won't lie about this question coming expected but that doesn't mean he can't speak the right words in set. The words she might want to hear.

"I will be honest with you". His serious bronze eyes stare at her. "My own moral compass is little bend. Still that doesn't mean what they does is correct instead they only acts upon what they deems is correct and that thinking itself is terrifying and must be put stop to it". Hearing such words from a boy who's son of a national police agency and multiple times announced to the teachers of his dream of becoming one along observed his visible hatred towards criminals should have felt right but why does it feel so wrong ? Her raw human instinct is settling anything but safe and good. All the words sounds distant and wrong.

"Yagami-san, please tell me your real opinion not the one you would tell to hide your real ones". Breaking the silence she didn't know was there flicker her eyes deeply into his. He merely look down and back up with a soft chuckle disregarding Ryuk's raspy laugh.

"Smart girl". He jollily commented already being entertained.

"I guess I was caught". His eyes lifted with his lips. "Okay, I do support Kira's actions of killing criminals but I do not support their killings against innocent civilians because I think the innocents do not deserve such way of death to heaven". Light appeared to be shameful of his way of thinking when in contrast his fingers were itching to write her name on the death note and erase her existence from the earth. She is getting inside his skin. The second person to thoroughly caught his lies aside from the mysterious detective L.

(Y/N) eyes dart at the door hearing the upcoming footsteps of her sister to her classmate. "I understand". She did. Understood her intitution was right about the white lie he spoke moments earlier.

"But could you also share your opinion". Light oddly enough desire to know her thoughts for the sake of knowing her better. Or so he claim.

"Umm...nothing simply than the fact I have observed the person has fragile ego proven the moment he killed the fake detective just cause he was provoked such an impulsive decision". The brown head boy's eyes twitch at that sentences.

"That was good". Ryuk full on indulging the second person who doesn't fall for his facade easily and insult so bluntly at the same time could be the fast reason of her own demise he pitefully felt bad.

"Also I notice how the name Kira means killer at the same time shining in Japanese if I am correct then it must mean if the killer themselves liked to called killer in more fashionable way that proves they are aware they are nothing more than a killer but judging from the past killing of both the fake detective and police officers it seems the killer has forgetting it's identity and wants to be some sort of justice hero". She finished titling his head.

"I like her". The god of death openly admit his favoritism wanting more to see what becomes of her in the near future. Hopefully she survives after this situation for his want of fun. However Light doesn't share the mutual feeling. His lips part to say when Misa barged in holding plate of delicates and snacks.

"Have bites". Little to no noises were made placing the plate on top of the little table.

"Thank you". (Y/N) took one bite into the cookies before diving into what he was suppose to say if Misa didn't came so abruptly little did she know the blonde girl was standing behind the door since the topic came what he likes about her by successfully fluttering her heart and leak hundred butterflies inside her stomach.

For Light after eating and talking some meaningless strings of sentences he care not to remember only seeing red by the moment those words this bitch utter immediately put an natural end to their meeting, waves their hands goodbye, somehow got rid of the another bitch, Misa. He so restelessly want to strangle her neck to the point he could see life fade from her eyes, pale body fall limp for eternal. Once he got home excusing himself with a strained smile and fake soften eyes to his mother and sister.

In no seconds the death notebook was laid open and a pen fist between his fingers tightly about to write her name that no one would stop him expect "I have observed the person has fragile ego proven the moment he killed the fake detective just cause he was provoked such an impulsive decision". It flashes across his eyes itself pausing his movements.

"Ha !" He mockly laughed. Laughed more and more and more and more that it scared the shinigami watching how wicked the laugh turned to his eyes pure evil red. "If she thinks of death was an implusive choice I made then how about I taste her hell ?" He smirk planning to get closer to know about her in order to completely destroy her.

The following day of her colliding with Light Yagami at the school gate to return home was again awkward but this time for the reasons he was romantically involved with her cousin, she still has suspicious about due to all her gut feeling screaming the boy dangrous. A danger.

"Would you like to walk home together ?" He suggested wearing his usual charming smile.

"So direct ?" The god of death snicker.

"Okay". Well, no excuse she has to decline his kind offer other than the fact her house is at different direction from his. Soon she find herself walking with the least expected boy she often seen and came face to face once in a while. The walk itself was silent surrounded by comfortable noises like their walking foosteps, few cars driving, birds chirping on their nest over the tree.

"Why did you invite me for a walk ? We aren't so close enough yet". Her quite voice break the train of thoughts of Light who for the first time after getting hands on the death note has been in peace.

"To get to know you better". (Y/N) was taken aback, flicker to his eyes to find them already intensity watching her. She flinched. He noticed.

"Oh". Quickly her gaze turned away only to fall on top of a cute cafe she has been eyeing for a long time which Light has notice too.

"Want to go inside ?" She glance to check his expression where he smiles and she nods going inside together. Few people were seated and she chose the closest seat to the window. He sat opposite of her. "This cafe is nice". He compliment watching her nod carelessly and look around the cafe. "Seem to be the first time of her".

"Welcome to Cutieeva Cafe, here is the menu for you to order and please press the bell to call an waitress or waiter". A woman wearing her black mix white cloth elaborate smiling ear to ear and place two menu on their table.

"Thank you". (Y/N) thanked her taking one between the two menu to check what she would be ordering to end up with Katsu sandwitch, manju and iced matcha latte while Light ordered egg salad sandwich and iced coffee with milk.

They waited in the same silence boring the god of death.

"Didn't you said you would talk to her ? If you don't talk then how would you know her weakness ?" Ryuk crossed his legs and sat floating in the air with hand under his cheek knowing how the male human ignored him.

"I will charge apples for this boredom". Light tune out the whining of the supernatural creature focusing on the girl in front of him who never ready to met his gaze if not necessary he even remembers being baffled in their first encounter how she run away unlike others he has came across his life to be talking to him in any possible way or reason. The food plate were served and the moment his requested food entered his mouth did he felt the disgust raising. "It's a trash". However he didn't let the negativity express over his face, glancing over to (Y/N) who ate just fine. To ease the disfavour he drank his drink "They didn't add milk and it's bitter". His lips threat to twitch.

"You shouldn't force to eat something you dislike". Light froze. His mind for a second was blank and non-calculative words blurt out.

"What do you mean ?" He stare into those (E/C) he found yesterday night in his dreams.

"The way you only bite some of your food and immediately turned to drink then look at your food makes me think you might not like your order. Maybe I am wrong but I simply want you to know that you shouldn't force yourself to like something for the sake of others". If before he wasn't intrigued then he certainly is now.

"And what would happen if I force myself ?" The words escape eager then he wanted. Looking forward to her next sentence, looking towards to her next expression, to their next eyes met.

"If you do, it will only hurt your own self that might later be forgetton if you are so used to the mask". (Y/N) utter not confident anymore feeling her unspoken secrets exposed by the words she speak from her personal experience. Feeling his burning gaze yet stick to looking at her meal.

"Sounds like an personal experience to me". Click ! His brozon eyes gleefully when she looked at him. At his eyes. Only at him.

"Ah ! What a interesting turns of events". Ryuk observed each little things. Feeling tension built just like his entertainment settling.

"Because it indeed is". (Y/N) look away turning his gleeful to a frown. The first slip up of his expression he is happy to be not caught.

"Could you share with me ? Because sometimes sharing helps to ease the burden". His eyes soften along his voice quiter. After all he would hate to let others know about something that meant only for his ears to heard or else too bad he has know each their names and wipe their existence with the power he have as an new god of the world.

"I—" (Y/N) suck breath. "I think I— will take my leave now". Quickly without checking at the other she took her bag, place her order of payment and left hurried failing to notice his hand in air with the intent to grip her wrist and stood up from his seat watching her back becoming smaller and smaller and smaller. All her mind had filled with her dull past of her friends smiling in front of her but sneering and spatting lies behind her back, preventing others students of befriending her, isolating her before comforting her with web of deceit how others are cruel and mockingly laughing at her face when in dispair she learnt the truth. Even stealing her right of cutting her ties with them instead the trio announced of leaving such a pathetic person as (Y/N) herself when she asked the reason behind such cruelty were offered because "It was fun". A measly toy she was to them when to her they were her friends, her non-blood family.

It left a scare to never able to look at other people with the same pure faith she had on people. Refusing to believe be rewarded by good people and doubting each mutters coming out of their tongues. Paying more attention of their behavior after all what the bitterness of betrayal is given by an alley not an enemy that's the first reason she notice Light's off putting behaviors.

Meanwhile Light was left clenching his jaw and fury rush in his head to whisk away all the plates from the table, lash out his boiling anger. How could she left him ? All alone and not even sharing her past when she talks as if she knows him.

"Someone's angry". Ryuk stood up on his feet, lacing his arms behind his head in an laid-back position in contrast of the human's emotions piling. The death note user held back to glare at the hideous creature he deems and walk to the counter paying both of their order and taking her money on his palm. Touching the corners that her fingers have touched. He gently smiled walking out of the horrible choice of cafe to his house letting his head cool by the breeze kissing his face away and eyes on guard for any followers. This realization made his eyes slightly wide at how dangerous loosen his guard was staying with (Y/N) not care of the world, his world, his concerns.

His sole focus on her locked world he seem to unable to step inside unlike countless others he has done. Within seconds to days his result was the same. Victory but with her he tasted not only failure yet desire too. The desire to be seen, to be known. As much as he despite of someone knowing his true self to exploit or use for their own gain like Misa or expose him as Kisa like the annoying detective L. She is different, she wants to know him, she seen right though him, his unspoken flaws to perfections without a hint of scorch. She sees him for who he is and tell him to embrace it even if it means risking her life by sharing her nagative thoughts. Giggy feeling spread like vines over his body, dipping into his flesh to find it's way to his heart. Just imagining how she would react of him being the Kira, her cousin is obsessed with and the real reason she is with him already makes him yearn for her. Want to see her, see how more these measly feelings could grow ? But if it becomes a obstacle then he must cut the root of it all. Nothing would stop him from becoming the god.

Then how ? How come every single day from the day on he set up accidentally meetings with (Y/N), making time to be with her rather than his usual duty of writing criminal names on his death note to create a better place, be with her than Kira most of the time even going as far as to disguise Misa as a way of entering an certain (H/C)'s head girl house little by little. He simply can't seem to stop this twisted pleasure of inserting himself on the picture life beside (Y/N) without any filth or that bitch inside.

The longer he spends time, the longer those feelings distinct where the god of death teases him when the girl of his wet dreams arrive and she is getting clever with her excuses better than the precious one but how adorable ? When the one being lied is the master of lies himself. He has impressively maintaining the almost perfect double life as a student and the infamous Kira that lies from small to big holds no surprise to him anymore. So, albeit knowing her little amusing lies his patient, one of his strong suit has been helping the thread from being cut off however he is growing impatient. Astonishing him and proving his desire for her was greatly underestimated and that strong suit of his apparently doesn't work related to (Y/N) who is passing day, week is scared for her life.

She might be little oblivious— but not blind to his increasingly uncomfortable advances towards her about inviting her to his home when his parents are out, touching her at every chance he gets, leaning closer than a boy having girlfriend should be, whispering into her ear, creating one-sided plan without Misa, tried holding her hands—claiming it's for her safety from strange men attacking her. Ironic ? when he himself is no better than the 'strange men' he described. Perhaps more dangerous he was because the dreadful day arrived. The day where their pretense of nothing happening is ruined. The say where his patient put to an end along his desire begin to woven the fate of their to seal together. Branding (Y/N) his.

"Good thing I ran out of the class when he was called out by the teacher". She sighed of relief finding no sight of an certain brown head behind her. For some strange reasons the deity might want to punish her or else why the accidental meetings with him keep occurring ? Or "This is a set up ?" No, what would he want from her ? Surely he isn't thinking of cheating on Misa— no. (Y/N) shook her head from digging into the topic far too liking from her.

Ultimately without any difficulties she calmly reached her house, stretching her arms and walking upstairs to her room when her eyes went to Misa's room and memories of her moving to their house after her parents death flooded to how late at night whimpering, wailing could be came from her room and (Y/N) helplessly call her parents to help Misa. Only if her parents weren't killed, if only her cousin lived happily, only if Kira didn't exist, only if she didn't developed unhealthy obsession then perhaps Light wouldn't be able to came into her sister life and have the chance to cheat on her. "No, no. I am again imagining things. He wouldn't cheat on her".

Quickly her toes step upwards to her roon and her fingers touch the cold doorknob only to twist and open it with a creaking noise and the straps of her bag fell with a thud on the ground while her eyes remained on the ground. "I need a shower". She closed the door behind her and about to head her attached bathroom when her (E/C) eyes met his rather red alike ruby eyes fondly.

Light sat on her bed flipping her art pages. "W-what ? A-are you doing ?" He silently spin a key around his finger. Not any key but a key to their house.

"Gifted by Misa". His gently voice revealed however the girl oppose of him felt her head spinning, rounding around her head, heart pumping in fear.

Fear.

Terror.

Disgust.

All the negative emotions she ever felt was surfacing over her face Light could see, he was like an magician reading her thoughts, her emotions, her fears and he would surely use them. Make them his weapon.

"This is disgusting". (Y/N) with a sneer about to run out—

"Do you not fear for Misa's life ?" Her all actions stop in air. Breathing escalated, hard to inhale, hard to feel, hard to express.

"What do you mean ?" She turn to face the man she thought could be trustworthy for Misa. "What do you mean ?" She yelled louder for him to reply her yet all he offered was a wordless smile. A smile nothing alike an polite gentleman instead a victory smile, a smile only those offer when they know all the power of the pawns on a chessboard are on their palms and she was a pawn destined be to at his control. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN ?" She cried, run towards him and yunk his white collar.

"She is your lover ! How could you threat her life ?" How could he ? How dare he ? How heartless he has to be not caring about others ? Especially of his loved ones, the ones who would do anything for him, sacrifice for him, fight for him, be with him. Tears well in her eyes merely imagining Misa's perished body in front of her.

"If you dare to touch my family I will kill you". (Y/N) threaten, fisting onto his thin cloth. A family is what Misa is to her. A sister. A cousin she will do any limits of protect. Even if it means killing hi—

"Even if it means sacrificing yourself ?"

"What ?" Her eyes narrowed.

"I never liked her let alone romantically viewed her. She is nothing but a nuisance, a thone, a mistake, a pest in my life. I never wanted her. She did and forced me". (Y/N) refuse to believe the words coming out of his filthy lips. "The one I want is you. I desire you". He breathless confessed his hidden want. Leaning over her face while her grip on his collar crumble, she lean away astonished.

"No. You don't". She step back gazing at his yearning eyes, cleared bronze eyes held reflection of her, just like his mind filled with her, his heart filled with her. His larger hand grip her wrist from stepping away any further than she already was in the past days. Another hand circle around her waist pulling closer.

"Don't leave me. You must be mine. You should be mine". He mutter leaning his head to her heart, ear pressed to the racing heart, pulses of her veins and his right hand intertwined with hers like their lives were now. "You are the only one who truly understood me. Seen me how I am. Never forced me. Criticized me, always bluntly told my flaws to my perfections. You are someone to be my queen. To be mine entirely and eternally". He closed his eyes pressing against her chest— to her heart racing because of him. Her breathing halted because of him. Her pulse rushing because of him. Everything she feels because of him. He is equally in her roots just like she was in his.

(Y/N) slowly looked at him to find his eye lids opening and all she found was madness, chaos, desire and her reflection. From the moment they met her intitution already announced him danger, bad news and fake. But she brush it off, ignoring the voices within her mind pointing how intensely he looked at her. How he behaved with her but she pretend to be unaware, run away from the reality that something was off with him all for the sake of her sister's happiness attached to this man yet it lead nothing else than her own downhill.

Before she realize the danger surrounded her, it was too late. She was caged. In his palm as a pawn of desires and caged in his arms. "Be with me and Misa will be alright. Be my queen and no harm with be done. My love, you don't know what can I do to disappear a person". Her knees gave up only for Light to hold her. "Do not worry. I am here. Give yourself to me and everything will be alright".

With a thud her back touch her once safety of a bed along the destroyer of her life, the killer of her soul, the ruiner of her body above her. His intelligent gaze replaced with full of lust. Adulation adoration "What would you do if I don't obey you ?"

"Kill Misa and I promise I will get away with it". Light honestly revealed, he has already plan to get rid of the good for nothing god of death, Rem with Misa. The only reason she wasn't dead to his inconvenience of the Rem but to own (Y/N) he will make it possible and crowned her his queen.

School white shirt disregarded baring her upper skin and her breast under the bra. Hungry eyes drank at the sun ray's kissed (S/C) skin. A divine present she is to him. The perfect love of his life. Insteadly he pressed his lips to hers earning a groan from himself due to how good it felt. Her lips were smooth, soft featherly and creamy like the pastries he likes. His tongue invade hers, tasting her tongue, twisting them together and sucking her, taking all her sweetness to himself, blending their saliva together and moving in rhythm of their love song ignoring how she remained unwavered.

When air became a need, a way to breath he decided to separate his lips from her leaving a lace of sliver saliva thread onto their lips— an evidence of his passionate kiss. He smirk finding her (S/C) cheeks decorated with crimson hue, lips gleaming his saliva and tears build on those hatred eyes.

Light insteadly latch Into her skin, curious if her body taste as sweet her lips does and he wasn't disappointed sucking her chin, neck, collarbone banding her his with the butterflies kisses and purple hickeys. However only whimpers, choked tears were tuning his ears unlike the music of moans he was awaiting. How could she ? Contrast to he was in heaven, the hell was brought for her on earth. Torturing her with those burning hands, soul-sucking kisses and purple scars on her body. The ruiner of her ripped the bra she used as an shield presenting her vulnerable and helpless.

Her breath hitched and eyes shut feeling wet lips coating her buds and he indulge his fantasy of his sleepless night come true even better beyond his tricks of imagination. He lovely bite and circle the buds with his tongue to earn any sweet noise from (Y/N)'s pretty lips. Showering devotion to their love making. "She is so perfect". Her head to toe was a goddess in a human's body. All of her flaws and hatred he viewed in her turned into rose tinted glass. Quickly those purple and blue bruises painted over her breast and his other hand kneading her breast as he continue to mark her down and down until his eyes sparkle with excitement and hers with terror.

He slowly dragged her cloth all together letting harsh breeze touch her second most private part which he delightfully touched. "So delicious it looks. All for me to have". Blood painfully rush to his own private part palming her small sex and lean his mouth inside the flesh. Finally the held tears of her roll down, crying at her cruel deity. At the cruel fate written for her. "Please help. Somebody, anybody help". How sad. Pitifully she quiver under Light who was enjoying the taste of her, the liquid she made from, created into.

"I can't". Crazed blood rush into his mind that he no longer take his slow time to worship his queen within a blink of an eye his own lower pants gone and without preparation, without protection he slammed his cock into her virgin flesh filling himself tight around her walls. "How sweet. All your first is me and I will make sure your last is me too". He bite his lips, gripping her naked thighs hard that she felt her bones would break.

"But my soul is broken". She screamed her pain of being raped. Agony of taking his part into her pussy so suddenly and forcefully. It hurts. It hurts more when he moved inside her, thrust again and again. Brim of bile threat to pour out of her throat as he continue to pleasure himself using her body— no a body belongs to him.

"So good, love. You are the sweetest. The most divine queen you will be". He chuckle thrusting faster. In mind to impregnate her. Yes, he will make sure to lock the shackle around her ankle well and the lock will be their sweet child which she soon realize when his hips slowed and strings of white liquid was released inside her womb.

"No. No. No. No. No. No". (Y/N) screamed at his face, red from anger. "I will kill this child if it grew". But all he did was lean and kiss her lips.

"Then I will kill Misa, your family and each person you come to care one by one". He shuss her by kissing her adorable protest only he can heard and see not even that Ryuk who is not here from the beginning busy devouring his addicted apples.

Just like he is slave to his (Y/N) "I am—". He kiss her. "Addicted".

FIN

[emmyrosee]

Ushijima does nothing halfway. Especially when it comes to his daughter.

It’s very adorable to see, there’s nothing quite like her asking him for anything and everything, and him doing it.

For her third birthday, she wanted a pony. When he couldn’t find one, he and Romero dressed up in a pony costume.

When she asks for candy, he gets her two of whatever she likes- one when she eats all her dinner, and one because ‘mommy doesn’t need to know.’

When she comes barreling into your bedroom while you two snuggle, wailing and desperately trying to dry her eyes while you both scramble from the bed to calm her down. He’s quick to reach for the baseball bat next to his bed to ward off any “monsters.”

“What’s wrong, baby?” You soothe, opening your arms for her to leap into. She does, and you hoist her up and onto your hip, her face burying into your neck.

“Jock’s gone!” She sobs, and immediately, you and Wakatoshi tense up.

Jacques, the handmade giraffe Uncle Satori had sent all the way from Paris for Reina’s second birthday had immediately made its presence known in everyday life. Everywhere Reina went, Jacques was close behind or enclosed in her tiny hand: play dates, dinners out or at the table, sitting on the toilet at bath time…

In her arms every time she was going to sleep.

“Oh sweetheart,” you croon. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

“I…I…” she lets out a sniffle and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “I forgot to…”

“We’ll find him,” Wakatoshi assures, and Reina’s eyes light up at her favorite hero.

You gnaw at your lip before looking at the time, “baby, don’t you think we should maybe just try tomorrow?”

“She needs it tonight,” he says simply, planting a kiss to your head before stalking out of the room. “He’s got to be in the house somewhere. Probably just playing hide and seek.”

What a damned game he was playing.

Surely enough, everywhere Jacques would be, or was suspected to be was exactly where he wasn’t; he wasn’t in the bathroom, or in the chair next to hers at the dinner table. He wasn’t in the playroom, nor under her bed, everywhere that Jacques could be, he certainly was not.

“Doya think he ran ‘way, daddy?” Reina wails, fingers clasping onto your pajama pants. A soothing hand cards through her locks, and despite Wakatoshi having the patience of a Saint, you could see it in his eyes it was slowly slipping away.

“It would make more sense than him just not being here,” he mumbles, and you offer him a sympathetic look for his efforts. “Okay, Reina,” he sighs, crouching down to be eye level with her; exhaustion paints his face and his hair sticks up wildly with his anxious carding, “when was the last time you had Jacques?”

She sniffles and wipes her nose on your sweat pants, “I told him to stay and watch the washin’ machine, ‘n come get mommy when it was done, and he never did!”

Wakatoshi blanches and his jaw slacks. You cover your mouth to hide the laughter that desperately wants to bubble out. Reina’s bottom lip wobbles as she unknowingly just took three years off of her fathers life.

“…the last time you had him was in the laundry room?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So… he’s in the laundry room?”

She nods again. Big brown eyes flick up to you, and he sinks his teeth into his lip to stop himself from laughing in a similar vain as you. “Okay,” he says, standing up and scrubbing his face with his large hands. “In hindsight, that should’ve been my first question.”

“Huh?” Reina asks, eyes flying up to you when you finally let a few cackles out, watching as your mammoth of a husband shuffles down the hallway to the laundry room. The light flicks on, then off, and when he emerges, there’s Jacques, dangling from his beefy hand.

“Found him,” he says blankly. Reina gasps and quickly runs over to her father, eagerly clutching the giraffe to her chest.

“You didn’t run ‘way!” She squeals, rocking the plush back and forth before planting a kiss to its head, chirping a sweet little “thank you, daddy!” before shuffling back off to bed, like the last three hours of struggle didn’t just happen.

Wakatoshi looks at you with exhausted eyes, but the minute they lock with yours, he’s unable to fight the wide smile that starts to spread over his face, causing the both of you to break out in loud laughter and snickers. You quickly make your way back into his arms, your head thunking against his chest while it rumbles with his laughter.

“I cannot believe that little snot just outplayed us so hard.”

“You’d think this is our first day,” you snort. Your head turns up to look at him, and you give him a kiss on the base of his jaw as a reward. “You’re so good to her.”

“I almost have to be,” he sighs sleepily. His olive eyes glaze over your face, “there is no way you’d be able to handle her antics on your own.”

“Hey. Just because she likes you more than me does not mean I can’t handle her on my own.”

He offers you a small snort and reaches up to gently stroke the corners of your smiling eyes, “I do suppose so; her ability to give me grey hairs certainly does come from you.”

“Exactly,” you chuckle. Lovingly, despite his slander, you nose at his jawline for him to lean down for a kiss which he happily complies in, his hands gentle on your cheek in the middle of the hallway. You giggle against his lips and nuzzle your nose against his, “I want another one…”

“A kiss?”

“No, a baby.”

Immediately he pulls back, face dropped in a deadpanned expression to contrast your excited one. “Clearly we need to get you to sleep, you’re talking nonsense.”

“Toshi!”

“Come on,” he grunts, hoisting you up and over his shoulder, ignoring your laughter and the banging of your fists against his back. “Bed time. Before the both of you give me an aneurysm.”

[nanaslutt]

Saint Nana, could I have m!reader teaching choso how to give a blowjob while 69ing, A sort of "copy what you feel" situation?

contains: m!reader, inexperienced!Choso, hand jobs, dirty talk, frotting, making out, first orgasm, 69ing, face fucking, multiple orgasms, choking, sooo sloppy and messy, cum eating, blood (choso bites ur neck a little too hard), throat goat Choso, a smidge of assplay :3

note: anyone can read :3 this was so fun to write tysm for the ask

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

“Are you sure you really want this?” You asked, rubbing his already hard cock through his sweats as his lip quivered, watchful eyes on you. “Yes.” He said, his voice accompanied by a nod.

“You’re not forcing yourself?” You asked, gripping his length through the cloth in your hand as you started jerking his cock slowly. He shook his head, gulping hard as his eyes fluttered at the unusual stimulation. “Do you want me to stop touching you so you can really think about it?” You giggled, watching his eyes fight to stay properly forward in their sockets.

“N-no please I.. I want to know what you like.. How.. how to touch you.” He said, taking a deep breath as he spoke clearly, looking into your eyes to make sure you really heard him. “Have you ever touched yourself, Choso?” You asked, making him blush at your question. His dark eyes dropped to watch him stroke his cock, the outline of his cock being too obvious from the way you were grabbing it. "Sort of." He said, looking back up to you for direction. "Sort of?" You asked, encouraging him to expand.

"I don't think I did it right, but I've... touched myself before." He said. He seemed hesitant to talk more about it, so you chalked it up to him either being clumsy or not having made himself orgasm before; both of which were not a problem for you, you were here to show him how it's done after all. "Okay baby, why don't you touch me right now, just like I'm doing to you?" You said, scooting closer toward him on the bed from where the two of you sat on the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor.

"Okay." He nodded after a brief second. He reached a shaky hand over to your lap and felt up the same spot you were groping him at. It took him a second to figure out how your cock was laying under your pants, but he eventually wrapped his own hand around your girth. Choso's breath hitched when he felt your cock twitch in his hold, making you smile at his reaction. "So just.." The curse spoke, wrapping his fingers around his cock the best he could while his thumb rested near the tip.

You felt a dull warmth blossom in your stomach at the feeling of finally getting some form of relief. "Yeah, grab it a little harder it's not gonna break." You giggled, making him blush as he tightened his grip and matched your strokes on his own cock, to yours. "You like it?" You ask, noticing how his gaze was glued to your cock, his tongue occasionally poking out between his lips to wet them-- realizing how empty his mouth was. "Yeah, you're really big." He said like it was nothing. Your cock sure as hell didn't take it like it was nothing-- throbbing under his hand at his praise, you almost felt a little embarrassed.

"You're pretty big yourself Choso." You said, biting your lip as you watched the way a dark patch started forming where the tip of his cock was. "You're so wet 'ur leakin' through 'ur pants already." You giggled, making him pause his efforts slightly as his eyes fluttered in his head when you squeezed your hand on his tip tighter. "Am I not supposed to?" He asked, looking down at his lap as he wet his lips with his tongue, feeling a heat grow in his pelvis the longer he watched you stroke him off.

"Thats not what I meant." You laughed, making him look up at you. With your free hand you grabbed the side of his face and caressed it, bringing your hand down to grab the bottom half of his chin as you leaned in. His eyes rapidly fluttered between your lips and your lust filled eyes the closer you got. He swore his breath stoping coming all together when you leaned inches from his face. "Im saying it turns me on how sensitive you are." You whisper against his lips, making a deep whine spill from his lips before you crashed your mouth with his.

"M-mmm" He moaned into the kiss, his strokes picking up on your cock again. The kiss started off slow and sensual, but quickly fell into a more needy pace, filled with heavy breathing and stuttered moans. Choso's eyes shot open when he felt your warm fingers slide under the band of his sweats and boxers alike, and rub him directly. Your own eyes cracked open to gauge his reaction, the two of you gazing into the others eyes before you closed them once more and giggled into his mouth before pulling away. His mouth tried to chase yours, his jaw slack and face red with the intensity of the kiss as he leaned into you, opting to lay his forehead int he crook of your shoulder when you dodged his kiss.

You used your other hand to pull his sweats down slightly so you could pull his cock out, your mouth watering at how big he really was-- the bulge under his pants barely did him justice. He had a lot of nerve saying you were big when his was twice as thick as at least a couple inches longer than yours. Maybe he really was just that clueless. "Fuck, how have you kept this thing a secret for so long huh?" You practically moaned. His cock was such a pretty shape, and the color of his flushed tip made your own cock drip with pre.

"I don't know-" He said honestly, cutting himself off with a moan when you rotated your hand around his tip and spread his pre down the length of his cock to ease the slide. "Feels really- really good." He said with a shaky voice, biting his lip. He was getting too absorbed in his pleasure, sure you loved making him feel good, and seeing him like this was a treat, but your own cock was aching too and his pathetic squeezes and stuttered stroking weren't doing it for you.

"Yeah? Wanna touch me like this too?" You asked, pushing him along. A grin spread across your face when he nodded. You watched him in real time try to pull himself together for you, he must've remembered he was here so you could teach him how to touch you- not the other way around. Not that you minded much. With no more aid from you, he pulled down your pants the same way you did to him- and held your breath as you felt his calloused hand slide into your pants teasingly and hesitantly before he pulled the appendage free and wrapped his hand around it, his eyes getting a full unobstructed view of your cock.

His jaw fell slack as he watched himself jerk you off. You felt a fat drip of pre slide down his tip and join the rest of the wetness coating his cock, making you smile. "You like what you see?" You asked, studying his face intently as he stroked you off, matching your movements on his own cock. "Yes, Its so warm." He said astonished.

Choso had tried to masturbate before but he always stopped himself right before he came whenever he tried. Part of him was afraid of what would happen, but sometimes he was too stimulated to work himself up to that point of arousal, his strokes always losing that perfect rhythm the closer he got to cumming, which always ended up in a failed orgasm as he unintentionally edged himself repeatedly.

His body jerked forward and his free hand came down to grab your wrist and stop your movements on his cock entirely when you sped up. He squeezed his eyes shut before letting out a shaky breath and speaking, "Could you.. stop touching me for a second?" He asked sweetly. "I cant focus on touching you when you're.." He paused, looking around, "Jerking you off?" You finished for him, making him nod at your words. The way this big man acted so coy around this kind of stuff shouldn't have made you as hard as it did, but he was just so cute.

"Yeah baby, no problem." You smiled, retracting your hand as you placed both behind you and leaned back into them, giving Choso more room to lean in and touch you freely. Now that he had a clearer head, he reached turned his body towards you, folding one of his knees on the bed; heavy cock hanging freely in the air; and wrapped his massive palm over your cock again.

Now that he wasn't actively feeling the pace you had set on his own member, he struggled to find a rhythm at first, but the sloppy movements felt good nonetheless. He watched with his mouth hung open in a small o as your eyes fluttered shut and your head tipped back, revealing your strong adams appple to his observant eyes. He took the chance to freely stalk your body with his eyes. He ran them over your thighs, the veins on your arms, your pecs under your shirt, all of it.

Choso's heavy cock leaked pre cum like a facet all over his sweats and the sheets in front of him. It twitched like crazy from him just watching you feel the pleasure he was giving you. He gulped when you wrapped your hand around his on your cock and helped him find a more suitable rhythm, all while keeping your eyes shut and head back as you absorbed the stimulation. "Squeeze like this- y-yeah just like that-" You groaned when he followed your instructions immediately and to the T, stroking you in a more coherent pattern as he rotated his wrist around your sensitive tip.

He frowned slightly when your hand retracted to perch behind you once again; a sight your eyes missed; but he decided to take the initiative at the absence of your hand. He stroked his hand up to your tip and rubbed his thumb along your slit, smearing the pre-cum that was on the skin there, making your breath hitch followed by a pretty moan that made Choso's stomach turn over. "Do you like that?" You heard his deep voice whisper cautiously into the air.

"Yes baby~" You whined, bucking your hips slightly on instinct into his hand. "I guess you're sensitive too." He said, a small, barely noticeable smile creeping onto his face, which you caught as you tipped your chin down and opened your eyes to smile at him. "It's your fault, you're a pro~" You praised, making him blush as he went back to stroking your cock steadily.

"Can I.." Choso started, licking his lips as he stared at yours, red from how often you had bitten them. "Can we kiss again?" He asked, not waiting for your answer before he started leaning in again, leaning his chest over yours. "You like kissin' me?" you said teasingly, laying back on your forearms as he slowly crawled on top of you, sliding his big thighs under yours, making you spread your legs to welcome him; your cock still being jerked off slowly in his ridiculously warm hand.

"Yeah, it feels good." He said, placing his arm next to your head and biting his lip, placing his lips just centimeters from yours. "You like feeling good huh?" You whispered against his lips, the two of you opening and closing your lips teasingly, licking your lips as you waited for the other to close the distance. He nodded, "Like when I rub your cock~" You continued, lowering your voice as you touched your lips to his but didn't dare move.

Choso's breath was picking up, his hand surprisingly still keeping its slow, tantalizing rubbing on your shaft. "Bet you'll like it even more when you feel it down my throat." You said quietly, making him groan against your lips as you finally closed the distance. His hand sped up drastically on your cock when the two of you started slotting your lips against one another. The both of you panting and whining into the other's mouth, your hands roaming over the expanse of his large back as he jerked you off at the perfect tempo.

"Rub them together." You rushed between kisses, "I'll show you." You slid one of your own hands between your body and grabbed his hand and pulled it off of your own member before you thrust your hips up so your cock nudged his. He panted heavier into your mouth when he felt it touch his. You wrapped your hand around both of your cocks, struggling with how girthy he was. You could barely wrap your hand around him alone, so the both of you was a bit of a challenge.

"Help me out." You whispered against his lips before you licked your tongue out to his, testing the waters. His body jolted at the feeling of your tongue trying to push into his mouth. Choso tried hard to focus on what was going on up top, and down below, it was all too much. He pulled away, gasping for air, and you thought the tongue was too much. "Sorry, not ready for that yet?" You panted, staring up at him with swollen lips and a flushed face; he thought you were the most beautiful person he'd ever seen.

"No!" He said too quickly "No, sorry I, there's too much going on." He said, biting his lip at the feeling of you squeezing the base of your cocks together in your smaller hand. "You're right, sorry baby." You couldn't help but feel bad. You had let the pleasure overwhelm you and cloud your senses. Choso was a virgin, and as horny as you were, you needed to take it slow with him-- for right now at least.

"I know you wanna kiss me, but let's start with this right now." You said, gaining your composure back. "I might be being a little selfish, but I might die If I don't feel your cock rubbing against mine right now." You giggled, easing the tension in the air slightly. He nodded, looking down where the two of you were pressed together. "You're really big, so I need you to help me jerk us off." You said nodding, looking at his flushed face. "Do I do the same thing as before?" He asked, uncertainly as he wrapped his large hand easily over both of your cocks and your hand alike, making your stomach flutter at the realization of how big he was everywhere.

You swallowed and took a deep breath before you spoke, "Yes, just like before." You said. He licked his lips before starting up a pace for the two of you. A 'sclick' sound bounced off the walls at how wet the two of you were. You didn't expect his clumsy movements to feel this good, but you had to actively fight off the whines that wanted to spill from your throat. The two of you stared between each other as you jerked off together, both breathing heavily.

"M-move your hips, pretend you're fucking me." You instructed a gasp leaving your lips when his cock rubbed against yours in a more stimulating way as he met his thrusts with your strokes. "Like this?" He asked, looking at your face for approval. "Yes-yes j-just like that." You groaned, tipping your head back into the sheets as his warm cock humped against your own. "You look so hot.." Choso whispered, "I like when your head rolls back like that.." He shamelessly admits, catching you off guard as his words fluster you.

"Y-yeah?" You ask, not being able to say much as his thrusts pick up. The sudden need to bite the throat you had exposed to him washed over his brain as he leaned forward and placed his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. "Yeah, I can tell when you're feeling good when you do that." his deep voice spoke. You were unable to stop the whine that slipped through your lips at his dirty words, moan after moan falling from them freely now as he fully took. control of what was happening below your waist.

"I like the sounds you make too." He continued, licking your neck with his warm tongue before he sunk his teeth into the flesh. You cried out, placing your other hand on the back of his neck as you gripped your nails into the skin there and pushed him against you. "C-choso!" You whined, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten feeling his teeth break your flesh, quickly the feeling was replaced by his tongue that soothed the marking there.

"I like it when you say my name too, It makes me feel all hot." Where did this bold and shameless person come from? He was giving you whiplash from how he had gone from coy and shy to this overbearing confident man who had taken full control of the situation. "C-choso-" You wined again, feeling his lips suck hickeys into your neck. "Yeah, like that," He mumbled against your sweet skin.

Choso had no idea what he was doing, he was just listening to his instincts and what he thought felt right in the moment. Clearly, he was doing something right because you were squirming under him, your cock was twitching more frequently, and your moans were raising in pitch, the latter making his stomach feel all funny.

"Oh fuck Choso- Im gonna cum-" You moaned, pressing his head harder into your neck as he continued to leave little kisses and bites all over the expanse of your neck. He wasn't totally sure what 'cuming' was, but he was thinking he was going to do the same, the warm feeling in his stomach was getting stronger, something that had happened to him before. This was usually where he would have to stop because the stimulation would make his movement sloppy and not feel like enough-- but with you under him crying out his name, and your own weak thrusts against his cock as you aided in stroking your members was making him spiral into his impending orgasm.

"M-me too I think.. a-ahh-" He whined, sucking your skin into his mouth harder as he bit the same skin to ground himself, his teeth sinking deeper and deeper the stronger the feeling in his stomach grew. "Fuck- fuck me Choso F-uck me!" You whined, gasping into the air. Choso's breath hitched when he felt it, his first orgasm. You must've come at the same exact time because the two of you made similar sounds and movements as your highs washed over you.

Your combined strokes got sloppier and slower as you jerked and humped each other through your highs. Your nails dug into the back of his neck strong enough to break the skin as your jaw dropped and profanities along with Choso's name spilled from your lips. Choso's own moans were louder now agaisnt you as his body jerked forward, his abs clenching under the strength of his orgasm. He released your neck from his teeth as he laid his forehead into the crook of your shoulder, feeling warm spurts of cum shoot out of his cock and land somewhere on your body.

Your orgasm ended before yours, your body going slack against the sheets as you twitched in overstimulation from Choso stroking himself through the aftershocks of his own high. He leaned up from your neck, red faces and crimson smeared on his lip as he sat back on his heels and admired the mess he made. The both of you released your hand from your combined cocks, noticing how the both of you were still hard.

"Fuck, you came so much." You smirked, pulling up your shirt and showing off your stomach covered in Choso and your combined cum as you rubbed it around on your skin. "Sorry." He said, rubbing your thigh as his cock twitched watching you mix the cum together. "Don't be, means you felt good." You smiled, biting your lip as you looked up through your lidded gaze at him. "No, I mean.." The man leaned forward and placed his hand on your neck, rubbing the bloodied spot on your neck with his thumb, "I made you bleed." He said, apologetically.

Your hand came to wrap itself around his wrist and rubbed at the delicate skin there. "It's okay, it felt good." You said, easing his nerves. "Don't say that, it's dangerous." He blushed, pulling his hand away from your throat as he laid it back on your thigh. You giggled, "Worried you'll hurt me?" You bit your lips teasingly as you placed your hand on your chest like you were some delicate maiden. "I'm stronger than you think ~" You teased, making him advert his gaze, instead looking back to your cock that, much like his, was still hard and bobbing in the air.

"You're still hard," Choso said, stating the obvious. "Of course I am, you think a little frotting is enough to satisfy me?" You giggled. "Looks like this wasn't enough for you either, big guy~" You teased, pulling the tip of his cock down with your pointer finger and watching it spring back up between the two of you. The man blushed, gripping your thighs in his strong hands. "What do we do now?" He asked, falling right back into that lost sheep behavior you knew so well. "Wanna learn how to suck a cock?"

--

Choso was now face to face with your dick, just inches away from his mouth as it twitched in front of him. You were on top of the man, facing away from him as you stradled your legs around his chest and came face to face with his own dick as you stroked it slowly in your hands. "Its simple really, just do what I do. Whatever you feel on your own cock, try to replicate on me~" You instructed, poking your tongue between your lips as you kitten licked the pre-cum off of his tip.

"O-okay." He stuttered, feeling way more nervous now that he couldn't see your face. Putting your cock in his mouth felt dangerous, but by the little lick he felt on his cock, he couldn't disagree that it felt really good. "Keep your teeth back though." You added, "I know I said Im strong, but I might pass out if you bite my cock." You laughed, making your cock throb in front of Choso's face. He nodded although you couldn't see him. "Last thing~" You said, arching your back when you felt him wrap his own hand around your cock and begin to rub it. "Let me know before you cum, I don't wanna choke~" You teased, making him blush at the implication of him cumming in your mouth.

With that, you took his cock into your mouth and started sucking. You moaned around the mushroom tip as you wet the first couple inches of his cock with your mouth, stroking what couldn't yet fit in your mouth as you adjusted to the stretch. Choso moaned loudly, making you hum around his girth as you dropped your head lower and lower. Because he was unable to see what you were doing, every touch, lick, suck, and hum felt that much more intense. He had never gotten his cock sucked before, so he didn't know what to expect, but he quickly realized why this was a thing.

Would you feel like this when he did this to you? "Hey, don't leave me hangin' lover boy~" You cooed, popping off his dick and stroking it in his hand before you went back to sucking his cock, taking it deeper down your throat this time around. His eyes rolled back into his head before he focused on the task at hand. The position was a little awkward but he thoroughly enjoyed the view of your full balls and tight asshole right before his eyes.

Taking a deep breath to calm his heart that threatened to beat out of his chest, he aimed your cock towards his mouth and sucked the tip into his ridiculously warm mouth. He felt the vibrations from your pleased moans around his girth as he lifted his head up to take your cock deeper in his mouth, mimicking what you had done. He pushed himself a little too far, too fast as your cock hit the back of his throat, making him gag around your cock.

He stayed strong though, keeping your dick in his mouth he pulled back slightly before using his hand to stroke what he couldn't fit in his mouth. "Jesus christ~ Your mouth is so fucking warm-" You moaned, popping your mouth off of his dick to breath as he rolled his tongue around your head. "Fuckkk- Choso- do that again-" You moaned, your back arching and eyebrows raising as you laid your head agaisnt his thigh, stroking his cock lazily.

He obliged, licking his cock around your head and along the prominent vein that ran down your cock, making you release a long groan of approval. "Fuuuuck baby, Im not gonna last long at alll~" You laughed before picking up your head and taking his cock into your mouth, trying to work him up to his second orgasm of the night so you didn't cum before him.

Choso felt your lips slowly slide down the length of his cock, feeling your hand place itself on his thigh as you sucked him hands-free, taking his massive cock to the hilt and bobbing your head repeatedly over it. It felt fucking amazing, the way you moaned and gagged around him, your throat squeezing him in the process, he wanted you to feel that too.

So he did just that, he removed his hand and placed it on your thigh, right under your ass cheek as he took your cock deeper into his throat. "mhm-mhmmm~" He heard you moan around his length in approval at his ministration, giving him the push he needed to fight through the gags and focus on breathing through his nose, as that seemed to help take your cock easier. You popped off his cock to speak, your voice whiny and strained when you spoke, "C-can I fuck your throat? You can fuck mine if you want too it'll feel soooo good I promise." You begged, turning your head to look at him as you made eye contact.

He nodded his head to the best of his ability, making a lustful grin spread across your face. "Good boy, place your feet on the bed and do what I do, kay?" You instructed, waiting to take him back into your mouth until he had his feet situated on the bed so he was able to fuck your throat easier. "Relax your throat and breathe through your nose, tap my thigh twice if you need me to stop." He moaned around your cock, letting you know he heard your words.

You giggled at how eager he was, not once stopping his ministrations on your cock while you explained what to do. Choso could not get enough of your smell, your taste, your reactions, all of it. He was feeling so dizzy, and it wasn't because of the lack of oxygen. You took his massive cock back into your mouth and braced yourself for what was to come before you started humping your own hips into his mouth.

Choso's head was forced against the sheets as he let you use his mouth, tears forming in his eyes as he fought through the gags and did his best to roll his tongue around your cock as you did the same for him. Tears of your own had already spilled down your cheeks as he fucked his hips meanly into your mouth; the vulgar choking and squelching sounds emanating from the both of you filling the room.

You felt the knot tie itself tighter in your pelvis as you let the large man abuse your mouth with his ridiculous cock, taking breaths in through your nose when you had the chance. What you weren't expecting was to feel his fingers rubbing at the rim of your ass, making your eyes shoot open at the sudden feeling. You reluctantly pulled your mouth off of his cock as your loud wines and moans filled the room, laying your head on his thigh as it jolted around as you relaced your mouth with your hand, making the man hump his cock into your fist.

"Ah- ah- ah-'s" fell from your lips as he rapidly drew small circles against your rim with his fingers, occasionally pressing against it and making you wonder if he was really going to put his fingers inside right now. "Fuck! Fuck Choso- Choso Im gonna cum!" You wined feeling the vibrations of his moans jolt through your sensitive cock as his hips lost their pace into your fist. Thinking fast, you placed his tip into your mouth and stroked the rest of his cock, working him up to his orgasm.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your thrusts growing erratic before your hips stilled entirely and you shot warm roped of cum down his throat. Choso gagged and sputtered around your dick as he tried to swallow your load. His own orgasm not aiding in his efforts to breathe properly as he came hard into your mouth. You stuck your tongue out and jerked him off as hot ropes of cum splattered over your face, your tongue darting out to lick up the streaks on your lips you had missed.

You lifted your hips up as your cock slipped out of his mouth. Immediately the room was filled with coughs and deep breaths as Choso choked down air greedily into his lungs, the hand that was teasing your rim coming down to rub his throat as he gripped your ankle for support. You smiled as you took his cock into your mouth one last time to lick it clean; the man moaned in oversensitivity; before you popped off with a lewd "ahh!" and sat your ass down on his chest.

You turned your body around to sit on his lower stomach and smile down at his messy face smeared with tears, cum, and spit, and his hair all messed up, pointing in every which way while he stared with an open mouth up at you. You giggled, leaning down to wipe your hands over his drenched cheeks and clean him up a bit as he closed his eyes and let you take care of him. "You're such a good fucking boy Choso." you praised, making him crack his eyes open as a crimson blush spread itself deeper across his face.

He silently brought his hand up to your face, collecting his cum on his thumb before he instinctively brought it down to your lips and waited for you to open up. "You know just what you want, huh?" You teased, sticking out your tongue as you let him slide his thumb into your mouth. You rolled it around in your mouth, taking it as deep as you could as you sucked off his salty cum and let him pull it out with a pop. "I really liked that." He said, staring at his now clean thumb in disbelief before he looked back into your eyes.

"I bet you did, thought you were gonna finger me at the end there~" You laughed, smoothing out the damp hair around his face to make him look more presentable. "Sorry, it just looked so.. cute." He said, rendering you speechless. You stared at him incredulously, with an open-mouthed smile on your face before you broke out into laughter. "Well maybe the two of you should get more familiar with each other sometime~" You cooed, giggling as his hands rubbed soothingly on your thighs. "I'd like that a lot." He genuinely smiled back at you.

[sanjisboyfie]

nonchalant and unbothered toji who has the patience of a saint. now, you weren't bratty by any means - not regularly, at least - but there is nothing you could do that will phase this man. he's seen it all and he's experienced it all. he sees you pout your lips at him to win him over and he's cooing over how cute you are. you're tugging on the hem of his shirt, begging him to do something, and all he can think about is how nice your voice sounds like that. you're whining and nagging him about something he was supposed to do around your shared place and he's just thinking about how he wants to kiss you so bad. nonchalant, patient, and unbothered toji for the win!!!

"toji, i told you to do the dishes-" his lips were planted on yours before you could even finish the sentence. he's pulling away after a couple of seconds, a relaxed smirk on his lips.

"you're cute," he says, calm and not at all bothered by your incoming lecture. before you can even begin ranting to him, he's knocking the bottom of your jaw up with his knuckles, to close your mouth, and then leaning in again for another kiss. "c'mere, pretty boy,"

and he's not getting off of you for another ten minutes.

it may seem purposeful, a good escape so he doesn't have to do chores. but don't get it twisted, he really does just want to kiss you for how adorable you're being. at least, 90% of the time that's why (the other 10% is so he can get out of doing chores).

his charm just works without fail everytime. you're happy, he's happy, everyone wins.

another time, you were begging him to come with you to check out some new restaurant in the mall. and toji's a big homebody, so convincing him to go out anywhere could take some effort. and today, it was taking a lot of effort.

"please, babe," you begged, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, "you owe me for that one time! remember?!"

toji hummed, not caring for what you were really saying as he tried to finish his crossword. if you had given him a couple more minutes to complete it, he would have no qualms with going with you anywhere you wanted. but as you continued tugging on his shirt, there was no way he could focus.

so he gazed up at you, giving you all his attention, and looking very unimpressed. then he pulled you in by your waist, making you collapse onto his figure. and he was now holding you up, looking you up and down.

"you look handsome today, have i told you that yet?" toji muses, looking at your outfit and then your blank face, "hm, shame on me. not telling my boy how good he looks," he leans up, meeting you halfway in a peck before kncoking his forehead against yours, "you look cute, baby, 'm so lucky you're all mine."

and you're just stunned into silence at how he's cooing at how handsome you are, suddenly forgetting any and all begging you were doing and planning to do.

or how about how he is almost always the calmer of you two in any given situation. (almost always because sometimes he does lose his temper, not at you, but for you -> such as people giving you a hard time = he's becoming a demon to haunt and intimidate them).

"i can't believe that asshole," you huffed, thinking back on the cashier that was giving toji some weird looks - for some reason. they weren't flirty glances, it more so falled under disgust or disapproval. it pissed you off, while toji on the other hand was only calmly looking at you.

you began to ramble, going on about how dare they disrespect your boyfriend and toji can only hold your hand over the table and listen to you. there was no point in stopping you once you got started. also he thought that annoyed look on your face was adorable.

"seriously, he needs to mind his own business or else i'm gonna make it everyone's problem that he decided to have an attitude. out of nowhere too! he wasn't acting like that at all until you came in, and it's obviously not your fault, it's his for being a judgemental prick. should i just beat him up already?" you were voicing all of your thoughts and toji was listening.

yeah, that look on your face was truly adorable. he almost sighed dreamily at the sight. he was knocked out of his trance when you stopped talking and looked at him expectingly.

"are you really not bothered by it?"

"bun, i'm already used to all that shit, i could care less. i appreciate you thinkin' of me, though, it's real sweet," he smirks, pinching your cheek as if you were a child.

you swat the hand away, giving him a pointed look, "don't 'bun' me, i'm still pissed,"

"don't be pissed at me, bun," he says, the nickname still slipping off of his tongue with ease and no hesitation.

bun, short for bunny. god, he loved calling you that. he loved you so much.

"whatever, i should go over there and take that five dollar tip out of the jar. what do you think?"

"i think i want my boy to stop rambling about other shit and just kiss me," toji decides with ease, alreading leaning forward and looking at you with hooded eyes, "c'mon baby, just one kiss?"

"fuck off,"

"oh, don't make me beg for it, handsome,"

"i'll seriously kill you, you're pissing me off,"

"you're so handsome when you're mad at me, have i ever told you that?"

"you tell me that everytime i'm mad at you."

"cause i know i'm right," toji smirks, leaning in and capturing your lips with his scarred ones with ease. you give into the kiss because obviously you're gonna kiss your boyfriend and he's not the one you're actually mad at.

the world quiets as you two share the moment of intimacy. toji pulls away with reluctance, his hand still squeezing yours.

"feel better, bun?"

"shut the fuck up,"

"oh, i love you more."

nonchalant and unbotherd toji who is just obsessed with kissing you. and with how cute you are. and with you. he's just obsessed with you. toji loves his man a lot.

[cadavercowboy]

O Come, All Ye Frightful

Art The Clown x Reader | WC: 5.3k+ | Explicit Content

Summary: Contrary to popular belief, Santa actually comes way more than once a year. Warnings: 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI. Idk this entire thing feels slightly sacrilegious. Art being criminally hot in the Santa suit while behaving like a Certified Freak. Slightly dubious consent. Handjob. Premature ejaculation. Multiple orgasms (his refractory period is non-existent). Cum as lube. Unprotected sex. Rough sex. Choking & breath play. Degradation if you squint really hard. A/N: In the words of my iconic king...ho, ho, UH OH🎄Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and so on and so forth. <3

The clock hands finally crawl their way past 7pm and you sigh tiredly, knowing you’ll soon be freed from this hellish holiday prison. Christmas music plays quietly from the speaker system and you mouth the words mockingly, tired of hearing the same dozen or so songs repeat over and over during each shift. Between rude, entitled customers and the unruly hordes of children screaming their heads off for a chance to beg a fake Old Saint Nick for crap they definitely don’t need, you’ve just about had your fill of the season.

Outside the store, the rest of the deserted shopping mall has been left in engulfing shrouds of pitch-blackness; the other closed-down and empty shops like a line of pocket-sized abysses. It’s Christmas Eve and everyone else has shut their doors early to spend time with loved ones. You should be home too, but your boss is a heartless prick.

You huff with annoyed boredom, bent over beside the register with your elbows planted atop the counter and your palms cradling your chin. It’s been dead for hours—not a single customer in sight—but you’ve been forbidden to leave until the mall officially closes for the night. A quick glance at the clock says that’ll be in about an hour or so. Just beyond the entryway, a flurry of movement near the floor catches your attention and you lean over the counter to see what it is. 

The dingy strands of an old mop sweep into view and your eyes trace along the wooden handle until they land upon Mike, clad in his loose-fitting uniform. His long legs bring him into view with stuttered steps as he cleans the tiled floors. He spares you a quick glance and a wave which you return, trying to hide your obvious disappointment in the presence of the headphones planted firmly over his ears. You’d kill for some conversation right now. 

Aside from the janitor’s brief visit and the flash of someone dressed all in red in the distance, you’re certain the building is otherwise totally vacant. With that in mind, you decide to pack it up just a little early. What your boss doesn’t know won’t kill him, you muse.

Your back is turned as you straighten merchandise and lock the door to the rear exit, rendering you completely unaware of the noiseless presence lurking and watching you from just around the corner. When you close out the register, your head is buried in the drawer and your attention is too focused on what you’re doing to notice the tall figure which glides sneakily past the shop.

You flip the switches near the door and step outside, reaching over your head to pull down the steel security gate. The heavy contraption slams shut with a resounding clang and you crouch with your key in hand to lock it in place. From your stooped position, you spot a small puddle and several oddly-shaped droplets splashed across the tile floor beneath you; the substance opaque and viscous. You hum contemplatively, knowing Mike had been by not long ago to mop and wondering where the mystery liquid could have come from. With a dismissive shrug, you stand back up and turn to head for your usual exit, the only door you know will still be unlocked at this hour.

A single row of recessed lights remain lit overhead, lending a somewhat spooky atmosphere to the abandoned concourse. You reach up to whip the red-and-green felted elf hat off of your head, the decorative gold bell jingling as you shove it into the pocket of your matching dress. A pair of tight, flesh-toned stockings hug your legs and you long to peel them off. While the uniform is fun and festive, this year you’re feeling decidedly not. In fact, you’d go as far as to deem yourself unjolly. Even as you absently hum along to the tune still filtering through the mall, you aren’t feeling your usual holiday joy.

Passing through the food court, you approach the center of the mall where the massive North Pole backdrop still stands, illuminated beneath the silvery halo of a light that never gets turned off. You laugh to yourself, wondering whether a selfie inside Santa’s sleigh in your silly costume might help to prompt some Christmas cheer. You'd deemed yourself too old to take a photo with the man himself during business hours, but you still deserve to have a little fun on your own time, you suppose.

With renewed energy, you traipse towards the yuletide scenery where you find the zig-zagging velvet ropes blocking your way, but easily slip beneath the blockade between two posts. Once you’ve entered the empty queue, you spy a comically large pair of black boots sticking up from inside the sleigh—propped casually on the curled front. Your heart stops at the exact moment the ambient music cuts off and the wide-open space falls eerily silent. It would appear you aren’t as alone as you thought.

A familiar red hat peeks over the back of the cushioned bench seat and you approach cautiously, admittedly hoping to find the rosy-cheeked man who usually occupies the sleigh. Maybe you’ll be permitted to take a photo with Santa after all, as childish as the notion may be. 

What you actually find is alarmingly opposite of what you expected. The face tucked beneath the fur-rimmed hat isn’t jolly or round, nor is it warm or welcoming. It’s harsh and angular, painted in a stark black-and-white motif; seemingly done up for the wrong holiday altogether. A long, lithe body clad in all the trappings of a traditional Santa suit reclines leisurely in the sleigh, crowding the confined space as if he belongs there. Blackened lips wrap around the blunt tip of a candy cane and upon hearing your startled gasp, a pair of pure white eyes—spectral and inhuman—lock onto your face. The darkened pupils shine like two specks of coal.

Art’s expression twists into one of genuine surprise, having not expected you to come across him quite so soon. Your eyebrows flick upwards and he mirrors the gesture, waiting with barely restrained excitement as the wave of confusion contorting your face is swiftly replaced with the tell-tale signs of apprehension he knows and loves. His stomach knots with gleeful anticipation.

“S-sorry,” you laugh, awkward and breathy. “I thought you were Santa.”

The clown immediately hurls the peppermint candy aside and his oversized shoes come down with a loud thud as he hastily sits upright in the sleigh. Art points frantically to the massive banner overhead that bears the namesake, then gestures to himself; seemingly wanting to indicate that he is in fact Santa Claus. You can only chuckle in amusement, but when he emphatically waves in an attempt to have you join him where he sits, you realize he isn’t joking. 

Your smile falters only a little and with a dismissive lift of your hand, you attempt to politely decline his request. Art is not pleased with this response so he childishly stamps his feet and crosses his arms over his chest as he regards you with an exaggerated and churlish pout. When he tries crooking a beckoning finger in your direction, an actual laugh escapes unbidden. His surly expression of disappointment softens slightly at the sound and his hope renews. He attempts once more to entice you, this time patting a velvet-clad thigh with his hand and even offering an inviting if not unsettling smile.

Something about the animated stranger intrigues you and you find yourself compelled to accept the clown’s invitation. You relent with some hesitation, smoothing your palms over the knee-length skirt of your elf dress and shuffling timidly towards the sleigh. Art can hardly contain himself and twists his body, looking swiftly from side to side as if struggling to remain calm and seated. You lift your foot onto the raised platform and slide your way into the tight space with him.

Art continues to wiggle back and forth restlessly, his knees pressed tightly together as he pats them excitedly with both hands before eventually straightening his spine and adjusting himself until his posture is stiff and proper. A rush of air bursts from your nose as you laugh nervously. The celebratory clapping of his palms is muffled slightly by his fingerless gloves as he waits for you to plant yourself in his lap. You do so gingerly, lowering yourself with as much finesse as you can manage and situating your bottom at the very edge of Art’s bony knees.

You’re perched awkwardly only for a moment because Art promptly yanks you in, spreading his own legs so abruptly that you nearly tumble to the floor of the sleigh between his feet. The jarring movement forces you to reach out, grabbing onto his shoulder with one hand to balance yourself as he wraps an arm around your waist and uses the other hand to nestle both of your legs between his parted thighs. Your hip is so close to his body, you can feel the warmth emanating off of him and notice a distinct lack of the customary belly you’d normally expect to find beneath the velvety soft suit.

“Sorry,” you apologize a second time, clearing your throat with a smile and another awkward chuckle as you fold your hands in your lap. “This is probably weird...me sitting on a grown man’s lap.”

Art responds with a scandalized, open-mouthed frown and a firm shake of his head that makes the white pom-pom sewn at the end of his hat flop back and forth. He blinks his eyes rapidly and swishes a gloved hand in your direction, effectively batting away your concerns. It’s clear he finds little issue in having you perched on his thigh. 

When Art leans uncomfortably close, you stiffen, though he pays it no mind and peers around your shoulders to look at one of the props which comprise the festive scene. It’s a crooked sign whimsically nailed to a red-and-white striped pole that begs the question: What Do You Want For Christmas? He sweeps his hand towards the signage—inviting and expectant—prompting you to provide an answer.

“Hmm,” you stall, having not expected the creepy clown to go through all the motions of the mall Santa experience. You shift with a huff and his arm tightens around you as his other hand pats the outside of your thigh in what you suppose is meant to be some semblance of encouragement. It only serves to distract, filling your head with a disorienting buzz at the near-intimate closeness of this complete stranger. “Guess I haven’t really given it much thought.”

He considers your admittance for a moment, his face slack and pensive before he shrugs. Art releases his hold on your thigh in favor of diving a hand into a pocket in the pants of his red suit. To your surprise, out comes an artfully weathered scroll of paper that he unrolls with a quick flick of his delicate wrist. Evidently another prop, it contains names written in two columns—apparently a naughty and nice list. Art tips his head towards the paper and regards you inquisitively, as if asking which side you belong on.

“Well, I think the nice list,” you offer, happily playing along. “But I’m not entirely sure what it would take to end up on the naughty list.”

The clown tilts his head and regards you like a predator, grinning salaciously and wagging his thinly-drawn eyebrows in a way that causes an undeniable heat to stir low in your belly. You squirm in the clown’s lap and he playfully squeezes your leg just above your knee. Your cheeks prickle with something you’d rather not acknowledge and suddenly you can no longer meet Art’s pale gaze. Endeavoring to assuage your growing discomfort, you redirect your attention back to why you’d come over here in the first place.

“Would you mind if I took a picture of us?” you inquire politely. 

Art acquiesces quite gladly and frantically nods in agreement, his obvious enthusiasm making you smile. You shift your weight to access the deep pocket of your costume and his colorless eyes follow your every move. 

“You don’t talk very much, do you?” 

The conversational question somehow sounds more invasive out loud than it had in your head and you turn to dig around determinedly in your pocket so as to disguise the way you cringe. Luckily, your phone slides out and brings with it the floppy elf hat you’d shoved in there earlier, leaving no time for Art to respond. Not that he would.

The clown moves swiftly, snatching the crumpled felt hat and violently unfurling it with a loud jingle. His mouth forms a perfect circle of delight and he gives the hat several more shakes just to hear the musical tinkling before lifting both arms to gently fit it over the top of your head.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” you say, bending to allow him better access and smirking when he playfully flicks the little gold bell sewn on the end.

He adjusts the hat to his liking, then taps a single long digit on the tip of your nose. You duck your head bashfully, though he doesn’t allow you to hide for long. Two slender fingers hook under your chin and he lifts you by the jaw, forcing you to meet his eyes in a silent stare that stretches on until your pulse increases and your entire body grows hot.

Turning your attention to the phone clutched in your fingers, you beg your hands not to shake as you open the camera app and lift the device to align both yourself and Art in the frame, making sure to include the beautifully decorated tree in the background. The clown is so large, you have to extend your arm to its limit in order to fit him. As you do, his eyes meet your own in the image reflected on the screen and he draws his body even closer to yours. One of his hands drop into your lap and the other rests gently against your lower back. You swallow loudly. 

“Smile,” you command softly, struggling to make your lips lift in a gesture that doesn’t reflect the conflicting feelings of trepidation and attraction brewing within you.

Art’s grin slashes across his face in an instant, a wide set of teeth suddenly emerging from behind his inky lips. His ghostly eyes burst open and his eyelids all but disappear with the exaggerated stretch of his face. The abrupt appearance of the severe expression makes your stomach curl with unease, but you cannot deny the way the thrilling glimmer of fear settles somewhere a little further down.

You snap a couple of photos, then switch the angle to capture a few more. When you drop your arm slightly, Art repositions himself as well. With the hand that had settled in your lap, he reaches up to cup your chin and draw your face nearer to his. This close, your senses cloud with nothing but the clown: the earthy scent of grease paint mixed with something spicy, the warmth of his nearness and touch, the subtle whisper of his steady breathing.

His painted skin is unexpectedly soft when it rests against your own and he goofily purses his lips against your cheek like a teenage girl taking a silly selfie. While the pose appears playful, the painful way his fingertips pinch the flesh of your face against the firm edge of your jawbone is anything but. Shock zings through your body, though the heat it carries isn’t due entirely to surprise. Art holds you with unrelenting force and your smile weakens even further as you fire off several more snapshots.

Before you can lower your phone, Art’s hand ventures from the small of your back until it settles between your shoulder blades. Its counterpart finally falls away from your face, instead reaching for the illuminated screen and switching over to a video before returning to firmly encircle your throat. Your breath catches and you suddenly feel as though you may overheat. The furry cuff of his suit presses against your cleavage, the synthetic material quickly absorbing the warmth that rolls off of your body in waves. Your hand shakes so much, you doubt the recording will even be watchable.

When Art turns his head, the tip of his pointed nose drags sensually along your jaw and his grinning mouth opens with an audible slickness. Humid puffs of breath skitter along your hypersensitive flesh, a prelude to the wetness of his tongue wriggling lasciviously along your cheek and up towards your temple.

You’re paralyzed—arm still hovering parallel to the floor—frozen beneath the disbelief of Art’s seductive attention and held still by the increasing pressure surrounding your neck. You know you should tell him to stop or push him away, but you just can’t bring yourself to put an end to the suggestive way he holds you prisoner and samples the saltiness of your skin.

As quickly as he licked your face, Art stops and you cease filming with your phone, hardly able to comprehend what you’ve just recorded. His mouth snaps shut with force and his hands slip away from your body as if burned by the contact. To your surprise, he carries on as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened and steadies you in his lap as he pitches to one side.

Reaching into a bag stashed near his feet, Art presents you with a single candy cane. Your head is still reeling from the hot, wet drag of his tongue across your skin and it takes a moment for your brain to catch up to what your eyes are seeing. The hooked confection is waved tantalizingly in front of your face before you manage to raise a hand and accept it.

“T-thank you,” your words emerge barely a breathy whisper. 

The cellophane crinkles slightly in your grasp and you robotically stuff your phone back into your pocket. Your body moves on autopilot as you plant your feet and shift to stand, but Art’s sinewy arm bands around your waist and crushes you right back into his lap. It seems to jostle you from your stupor and you blink several times before turning to face the mysterious clown. He reaches out and snatches the candy cane from your hand, causing you momentary concern that you’ve done something to offend him by trying to leave. 

He proceeds to methodically unwrap the candy with theatrical flair, then holds it out to you, indicating a desire for you to eat it here and now. You hum in understanding and attempt to take the candy cane, however Art pulls it away with a chiding look and instead directs it towards your mouth himself. Staring incredulously, you watch with niggling suspicion as the clown nods in encouragement, a glint of something sinister flickering in his white irises. 

Your lips part obediently and though you do so somewhat clumsily, you lean forward and—as requested—allow the candy to slip into your mouth. Sweet peppermint flavor bursts across your taste buds and your mouth instantly begins to water. Art studies you with unflinching and steadfast attention as he feeds you, his pupils expanding into deep, dark pools of hunger. While the act is bizarre and slightly humiliating, you find yourself inexplicably turned on; exhilarated by the pleased way in which Art’s open-mouthed expression seems to silently praise your compliance. 

Perhaps it’s how intimately close you are to his monochrome face or the way he shamelessly watches the lewd swirling of your tongue with such rapt, appreciative awe, but you find yourself clenching your thighs in an attempt to quell the sudden wetness blooming between your legs. Art takes notice of your restless predicament and his body responds in kind, blood rushing to his loins where he begins to harden against you.

Without warning, Art yanks the candy cane from your mouth, giving no thought to the way the sharp, hard sugar scrapes painfully along your bottom lip. He plunges the spit-sheened end of it into his own mouth, savoring the taste of you and coating it with his own saliva before carelessly shoving it past your now-bleeding lips once more. 

You’re unsure what possesses you to behave so wantonly, but you lock eyes with the clown and practically swallow the narrow cylinder of candy whole; being mindful of the slight point your sucking had formed, but taking it deep into your mouth until your lips meet the tips of Art’s fingers where he holds the curved end of the candy cane. For good measure, you even let out a throaty moan that shatters the quiet of the empty mall. 

His drawn-on eyebrows raise so high, they disappear behind the furry brim of his hat and his mouth rounds into a humorous circle of facetious astonishment. This time, he removes the candy cane from your lips more gently, ignoring the thin strand of saliva that follows it. With the list he had procured earlier back in hand, Art takes the pointed end of the candy cane and uses it as a pencil, pretending to add your name to the naughty column. He smiles proudly and fakes a hearty laugh before blindly tossing the props over his shoulder.

You lick your sticky, bloody lips and try once more to slide off of Art’s lap. When he latches onto you this time, something noticeable shifts in his demeanor. Whether it is the darkening of his eyes or the muscles in his body growing taut and coiling like a beast prepared to pounce, it is blatant and frightening. Your skin prickles with apprehensive awareness, though your aching center doesn’t seem to receive the same message. 

A breathy cry escapes you when Art harshly twists your body around, pulling you away from his thigh and settling you directly over his pelvis where you immediately feel an unmistakable ridge of firmness through the thin material of his suit. You have no choice but to allow all of your weight to rest against him as Art holds you down and begins to grind against your ass. He isn’t testing your reaction to his advances like you might have expected, rather the distinct lack of shyness in the unhurried rotation of his hips indicates something more like a warning of what’s to come.

Unsure what else to do with your idle hands, you reach behind yourself and brace either palm on the clown’s writhing hips. Your biceps quiver with the effort to ease at least some of your weight off of Art’s lap, but he’s having none of it. He yanks you down fully and even parts his thighs wider to facilitate more contact between your body and his painfully hard erection. You’re overcome with your own bout of carnal need and reciprocate his enthusiasm, swiveling your hips with determined precision.

Art has only known physical contact though the occasional struggle of a terrified victim’s body against his own and this new sensation is totally foreign to him. The stimulation is overwhelmingly pleasant—a particular faction of indulgent self-gratification yet unfamiliar to him—and he leans into the strangeness of it. His body’s reaction is swift and imminent. Art’s arms twine around you with disconcerting strength that renders you immobile, practically squeezing all the air from your lungs as a powerful shiver wracks his trembling body.

The clown makes no sound, but he hotly exhales the relief of his release against the back of your sweat-dampened neck. His hold is unrelenting, trapping you close to the solid heat of his lanky frame for a moment longer until he recovers. However, his composure does not return and instead he’s burdened with a new and curious hunger which instantly begs to be sated.

Art presses both hands to your lower back and shoves you forward onto his right knee, creating enough space between your bodies to access the elastic waistband of his crimson costume. His gloved hands move with grace and speed, easily freeing himself from the suffocating velvet prison. The consuming fire in your belly beckons you to turn and look at him and in doing so, you fan the flames into a raging inferno of desire.

A light sheen of sweat decorates the narrow sliver of skin that is visible between the disheveled halves of the rumpled Santa suit. Beads of cum still ooze from the tip of his length and evidence of his orgasm smears messily along the pale skin of a thick and still visibly hard cock. With lust-driven bravery, you reach for it, desperate to feel the solid heat of the turgid flesh against your palm and yearning to quench a lecherous thirst of your own.

The tacky streaks of Art’s release wet your skin as you grip his swollen dick and give him an experimental squeeze. You slide your fisted hand from the reddened, shiny tip all the way down the veiny shaft until your knuckles meet the cum-matted thatch of hair at the base. The engorged appendage throbs noticeably in your grasp and Art’s shoulders drop as he throws his head back. His white irises roll and disappear behind his hooded eyelids, his body thrashing with stilted, stuttered jolts as your fingers tighten and you take advantage of the glide of his slick spend to begin steadily jerking him off. 

When your thumb sweeps over the sensitive head, Art flinches at the stimulation and a milky rope of cum spills lazily from the slit. The warm strand of seed splashes across the back of your hand and in a flash, he’s rudely batting your sticky fingers away from his cock with a sharp slap. 

You’ve barely recovered from the harsh contact when his spindly fingers delve under your skirt and tear at your tights until the delicate threads come apart and allow him access to your panties which he yanks unceremoniously down your thighs, the garment tangling in the torn stockings still wrapped around your legs. Art’s hands dig claw-like into the flesh of your upper arms, brutishly twisting and turning you as he pleases; dragging you back into his lap so he can lift your hips high enough to notch the tumescent head of his cock at your center. 

A grating cry rips from your throat and echoes through the cavernous building when you’re violently yanked down and stretched with sudden force around Art’s erected cock. Though unprepared for the size of him, your cunt swallows the clown’s length with little trouble. As your lips part with an unbridled cry of ecstasy, your cheeks sting with shame at how the flood of moisture leaking from your core eases the harsh penetration, the momentum of you taking Art’s cock halted only on account of his considerable girth.

Finally managing to get your feet under you, you scramble to escape the dizzying pressure and overwhelming penetration so you can catch your breath, but Art refuses to allow you a single second of reprieve. He stands abruptly without ever pulling free of your relenting body, sinking his cock unbelievably deeper as he bends you over the curved front of the sleigh. Your elbows crash painfully into the hard surface when you attempt to catch yourself before your face makes contact. As you adjust your position, your hips drop in a way that forces the bulbous head of Art’s length to grind against you with blinding pleasure and your knees grow weak.

With your eyes pinched shut against the onslaught of sensations, you can’t see Art reaching towards the massive Christmas tree to unravel a length of perfectly-strewn ribbon. He yanks the metallic gold material free and gives it a dramatic twirl through the air before lashing it across your back the same way Santa whips his trusty team of reindeer, ushering you to continue writhing so willingly along his slippery cock.

Art quickly grows bored of that and instead takes the ribbon between two fists with a flourish while he continues to thrust leisurely; burying his cock to the root then slowly, tortuously, and teasingly dragging it back out until only the tip remains within your spongy walls. He reaches over your head with the ribbon, taking advantage of your parted mouth to wedge the scratchy material between your lips. It pulls taut and settles between your teeth, becoming the perfect means for Art to wrench your head back at an uncomfortable angle. His eyes widen comically when they meet yours upside down in a taunting stare, holding your gaze hostage as he starts to fuck you mercilessly.

Mounting you like a feral animal, Art becomes desperate with the need to wreck you wholly; driven by the desire to possess and consume you. His hips surge with unforgiving and powerful thrusts that have his heavy balls slapping your clit with each stroke.

You call out on every deep drive of his cock, the unsteady and unpredictable rhythm sending you into a tailspin of pleasure that robs you of the ability to breathe. Drool and tears spill down your face, the harried sounds he forces from you catching in your throat as you gasp for air. The hat crammed down on your head falls sideways, its cadenced jingling a derisive reminder of the depraved things the clown is inflicting on you.

Before long, the frenzied push and pull of his cock isn’t enough for Art and his lips split with a snarl, his teeth bared in a savage display of greed. Nothing but complete surrender will satisfy him and only total ruin could fulfill his recently unmasked libido. He wants to watch you fall apart and the evil motive shines brightly in his unsettling eyes.

Using your tongue, you force the spit-soaked material from your mouth so it falls around your neck. Art gathers it in one hand and pulls tight, fashioning the glittery ribbon into a sort of noose that begins to choke you out. While the position of your head is more comfortable, the lack of oxygen certainly isn’t.

Your grow light-headed both from the inability to breathe and the unrelenting grind of Art’s fat cock. With his unoccupied hand, he grabs your waist with bruising pressure and pins you in place so he can curl his towering frame over top of you. Blanketed beneath the heat and heft of the impassioned clown, your ribcage presses agonizingly against the edge of the sleigh and you can do nothing but accept Art’s brutal usage of your body.

Bending his knees, he leverages his height to fuck up into you with rapid and shallow thrusts before he cruelly buries every inch of himself inside you. Your slick walls spasm around the thick, veiny intrusion as an orgasm slams through you. Art cums with you as your pussy ripples and squeezes, but he has no intention of relenting. He ruts wildly against your ass, fucking you harder and faster until your juices spill around him and your combined fluids form a creamy ring around the throbbing base of his cock.

You bite back a scream when Art pulls out of you with a vindictively mimed laugh. The sudden termination of your pleasure sends you tumbling to the ground on unsteady legs that refuse to hold you up any longer. Twisting as you fall, you’re met with the sight of Art looming tall and ominous above your crumpled form. With his thickening cock in hand, he fists himself like a madman, crowding over you just in time to paint your face with yet another burst of cum. Ropes of opaque fluid splatter messily over your features.

The clown gives his length several harsh shakes, managing to flick a few more measly drops of his release onto your stained skin. Your face twinkles and sparkles in the light coming from overhead, appropriately looking like flecks of snow melted on your cheeks and lips. Clapping happily above you, Art offers you a rather proud thumbs-up of approval, deciding you fit in rather perfectly with the rest of the festive decor.

David Howard Thornton Masterlist || Writing Masterpost

[hellisharchive]

﹒﹒﹒first sight

➤ It was love at first sight. Literally. As soon as you popped in at the pearly gates, you immediately fell for the guardian of it as he asked for your name. After a week of being in Heaven, you visit him again and ask him out on a date and he says yes.

➤ 18+, fluff

➤ Saint Peter x gn!reader

➤ Masterlist | ao3 link

You were somewhere, now you were here. Where was "here" exactly? Well, from what you gather, you had ended up in Heaven. You weren't sad or anything, in fact, you couldn't even remember how you died, you were just confused. Walking down the pathway closer to the gates, it was quiet until a man with blond, swirly hair, wide smile and wings popped up from the podium that was on the side.

"Hiya! Can I get your name please?" You nervously spoke your name and he opened up his huge book- assumedly full of names. It searched for a few seconds before finding it and exclaiming it with glee.

"Welcome to Heaven! Here, we are full of the best of the best and the brightest of the brightest!" His smile was so wide, he was so excited to see another soul in Heaven, you couldn't help but think he was so adorable, you didn't even know his name. Time to rectify that.

"Thank you! Uh, would I be able to get your name?" You asked, which caused the angel to go wide-eyed. He then flew up from the stand with eagerness as he planted himself right in front of you.

"Nobody's ever asked my name before! Well- not anyone of recent...ah. It's Saint Peter! So nice to meet you!" He seemed to excited that someone else was showing interest in him, maybe he's at this gate too long besides himself? It made you feel bad a bit, he seems like a really guy and frankly quite adorable.

"It's nice to meet you too! Are you out here all alone?"

"Oh! Well we usually have shifts! I'm just out here more often than others since I love welcoming people!" He was just a ball of sunshine, you couldn't help but form a crush in him already and you haven't even gotten past the gates yet!

"Well, I hope to see you around Peter! Can't stay at these gates forever...ha" You felt leaving him, but you still had to actually enter Heaven. Making a mental note to visit him when you had time, you watched as his smile turned into frown, the sight made you feel bad.

"Ah yeah. That's right! Well, welcome to Heaven! An angel will be with you shortly to help you get settled in!" With a wave of his hand, you watched as those huge gates opened up into a very beautiful city with angels in all forms enjoying life and flying around.

"Bye!" You smiled and waved as you made your way in and he flew back up to the podium. He smiled and waved back as you stepped foot into your new life and the gates closed behind you. You already started to miss him.

��━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A week had gone by and you settled in fine. You had made a lot of new friends and loved your new life. But you couldn't help but miss Saint Peter, even if you only had talked for a few minutes. Sitting out on the promenade with one of your new friends, you were talking about the new ice cream flavor you had tried earlier when a familiar voice made itself known. You turned and saw Saint Peter flying and saying hello to people.

"Peter!" You called out, hoping to get his attention, and that you did as he immediately heard you and looked over. Smiling, he flew down right in front of you and he looked so happy to see you again. You were very happy to see him again too.

"Hiya! How's Heaven been so far?" He asked, unable to contain his joy as you told him how amazing it was and your friend even joined in. It felt so natural to slip into conversation with him, he loved to ramble about all the good things here and told you many places to visit and other angels that would be good friends with you. You had been debating on asking him on a date for a while, and this was the perfect time.

"Would you want to uh...go on a date? You could show me some places yourself!" You chuckled nervously as you watched his eyes go wide and his smile grow larger. he squealed and grabbed both of your hands, lifting them up in glee.

"Oh my gosh! A date! Nobody has ever asked me that! Of course! Oh! I could take you to the Waterfall of God. Or the replica of Eden. Or the Cloud shopping mall. Or-" You stopped him a laugh and gently squeezed his hands.

"Hey, I know wherever you want to go, I'll love it. Plus, we don't have to do just one date, after all"

[immajustvibehere]

Amidst a Crashing World (3/5)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Summary: Arthur returns to your cabin after you presumed him dead. The time between your last meetings have lead Arthur to a realisation.

tags for this series: fluff, little bit of angst, no-tb-Arthur, literally your love redemption, maybe smut (but probably not), slow burn (but I mean how slow can a story really burn in five chapters?)

masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

6000 words

Sooner than expected, you heard of Arthur. Unfortunately, not because he sent you a note or stopped by again. As you rode into Annesburg three days after wishing him luck for the big score he had planned, the paper boys yelled through the town: "Saint Denis robbers still on the run! What happened to the gang of Dutch van der Linde? Find out in today's edition!"

Normally, you weren't too big on reading the newspaper, but this time…you hadn't never snatched it so quickly out of the boy's hand, leaving him to boast with the change you gave him. Hosea, dead. Lenny, dead. No account of any other names. You weren't sure who "a further gang member was arrested and awaits trial" meant. It only took a couple of days until everybody seemed to talk about it. Your main source of income being doing women's hair, you got a fair bit of gossip about the news.

Everything you heard from the ladies, took with a grain of salt. Either way, nobody ever mentioned Arthur by name. Your anxiety reached its peak when a rather well-off woman, not typically your demographic, had visited family in Saint Denis and brought an unsettling theory with her. Apparently, the most important members of the gang, including the leader, could have fled on a boat and drowned in the storm that was raging over the ocean the same night.

The "they have fled the country"-rumours were the most popular. Drowned in the ocean or not, the version varied based on who told you their theory. With every day you didn't hear the contrary and had no word from Arthur, you believed that you'd never see him again.

That was until one morning. You were working in your garden, busy with fixing the fence that had long stood neglected, when you saw a rider approach. Whether it was the hat or the horse you recognized first, you weren’t sure. But unmistakenly, the man on the horse that lazily trotted towards your cabin was Arthur.

You put your tools down and approached him, forcing yourself to walk calmly. The closer you got, the more unfamiliar he appeared. His beard had grown out, looking unkempt and way too long for what you were used to see him wear. Long strands of hair spilled out from under his hat. Arthur’s skin was darker than usual, even the unforgiving desert in the west hadn't left his skin as sunburned as it now appeared. Most of the red had settled into a golden-brown tan, particularly strong around the area where he cuffed his sleeves. For not seeing him for almost a month, this was quite a change.

A faint smile appeared on his lips when you reached him and walked next to his horse, leading it to your cabin.

"I thought I'd never see you again", you blurted out straight up.

Maybe a “Hello” or “Thanks for stopping by” would have been more appropriate, but the thought that had driven you insane the last three to four weeks just slipped out.

"I know. I'm sorry", Arthur jumped off his horse when you had reached your newly fixed gate. He looked at you, trying to take it all in. He had missed you; he had thought of you so much the last days and weeks, having you in front of him was a little overwhelming. But you looked like he remembered you. You weren’t wearing your fine clothes that you had worn when you caught him in your pond, but the worn jeans and shirt that had seen many fences painted and potted many plants looked good on you. It looked homely.

Arthur cleared his throat before he asked, "D'ya still cut hair?"

It was awkward...the ways he pronounced his question, the uncomfortable manner in which he scratched his way too long beard, seemingly unhappy with its new length.

Before you could answer, he added sarcastically: "Tried finding a barber on the Caribbean island but didn't came across someone I wanted to trust with scissors."

"Caribbean island?", you repeated questioningly, leading him into the cabin.

The tension between you felt peculiar. If tension were a tangible thing, you could have thrown a lasso and seemingly strangled it out of the air. But it wasn’t, so you and Arthur only struggled with finding your rhythm again.

"I came as soon as I could after returning...", Arthur explained apologizing, as if he had to rectify not visiting you sooner.

"Arthur. I thought you were dead", in front of your table, you stopped and looked directly at the man.

"'m afraid I have to disappoint", he chuckled, "Instead I'm here, asking ya for a cheap haircut because we lost...ten thousands in the sea."

"Ugh", you groaned, readying a chair for Arthur to sit on right at the table, "You sound so desperate, I might just give ya that haircut for free."

Arthur placed his jacket on a hinge next to the door and his hat on a free spot on the table. Again, it felt like he knew exactly where to place them, just as if he was coming home after a workday.

"Where d'ya want me, miss?", Arthur asked politely as if he had just entered a barber shop and there wasn't only one chair that looked prepared enough to serve as seat for his cut. You pointed at the chair a little absentmindedly, gathering your equipment and laying it out in the table in front of you.

"How short were you thinking?", you asked, walking around the seated man, ruffling his hair a little.

"Whatever you prefer", Arthur answered.

"What's that supposed to mean?", you asked, letting your finger scrape through his hair. His hair was wet at the roots, so you added surprisedly, "Did you just take a bath?"

"Might 've...", Arthur shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"You didn’t have to”, you reassured him, secretly amused by how endearing you found it.

"You wouldn't say that if you’d seen me before the bath. After three days in the Caribbean, killing half of the Pinkerton's agency and moving camp, you would have shot me on sight", Arthur joked, a bitter smile playing on his lips. Your answer was a soft chuckle.

After combing his hair, you repeated you question: "You're sure you don't want me to tell you how you want your hair done?"

"I trust ya", Arthur said.

"Mh, big mistake", you grinned. You caught Arthur's eye for a moment, and you could have sworn it was admiration in his expression. And trust, which honestly, was seldom for this man.

"I'll just cut it a little shorter than you had it when you first came to collect me", you said, waiting for his confirmation.

"...collect you and failed miserably at that", Arthur added.

"I thank the lord every day for that", you said jokingly. It was no laughing matter, though. You knew that as well as Arthur. The list of people the gang had lost in the last two months was long and you not rejoining was probably the only thing that had kept your name off that list.

You started doing Arthur's hair and one minute in, you decided to carefully pose the question of "What the hell happened the last couple weeks?". Arthur couldn't stop talking. He explained the plan of the bank robbery, explained when it went south. When Hosea was mentioned, he digressed a little. You too ended up sharing some anecdotes of the old man. You had loved him and felt a pang of guilt that you hadn't sent word to him that you were indeed fine. Hosea had been so kind to you when you expressed your wish to be on your own for a while, he had wished you the best and you had never even thought about sending a letter.

Then Arthur mentioned escape from Saint Denis. Your mouth went dry when Arthur recounted the storm, how he went overboard, nearly drowning and not knowing how lucky he was that he washed ashore on a beach. It was uncanny how some of the rumours you had heard mirrored the actual story.

Then came Guarma and everything that happened there. The return, the Pinkertons apparently following someone to Lagras and finally the move to Beaver's Hollow. They had been up there for a couple a couple of days now, and so much had already happened.

You listened, occasionally asked a question, but most of the time you were concentrating on not messing up the haircut. You had never heard Arthur talk that much before. Sober, that is. He can be quite a chatty drunk, but it seemed like he just wanted to get everything off his chest.

"How does that look?", you asked when you were done with his hair, holding a little mirror for Arthur to see.

His only response was a nob and a slight smile.

"Okay then", you spoke gently, "your beard's next."

The whole retelling of the last couple of weeks was what Arthur needed, but it killed his mood the same time. At least, that's what you though he was silent for. You cleared a spot on the table for you to sit on. It was way more comfortable sitting in front of Arthur while trimming his beard, but if you sat on a chair, you wouldn't have the height you needed.

You took a seat on the table in front of Arthur and noticed how his eyes immediately fixed on the ground.

"D'ya mind spreading your legs a little?", you asked. Despite the request confusing him a little, Arthur did as he was told and you put your on foot on his chair, so you wouldn't topple forward. Arthur tried his best to stifle the cough that worked its way up as he choked on his own saliva at this move.

"We're not going for a clean shave, are we?", you asked casually, trying to catch Arthur's eyes. He shrugged: "Whatever's easier for you."

You shook your head and began to trim his beard back to what you remembered he had the last time he visited you. Soon after you started, you noticed Arthur's cheeks getting warm and red. You were well aware that your cleavage was on his eye-level, probably the reason why he decided he was better off inspecting the floor. Meanwhile, you enjoyed gently tilting his head the way you needed it, finding no resistance from the man himself.

You talked only little, answering insignificant questions Arthur posed when the blade wasn't near his face, and he could actually move his mouth. You were almost done, only lining up his beard to give it an overall cleaner look, when Arthur said something out of the blue.

"Y'know, I been thinkin' about you. A lot," Arthur croaked, his throat dry all of a sudden.

"Mhm", you answered, not sure which direction that was supposed to go. You stopped shaving off the stubble on his neck when his Adam’s apple bobbed.

"Uh, I mean...", Arthur clears his throat, forcing you to stop the shave and look at him. Finally, his eyes found yours, "We're...uhm...friends, I hope." He forced a little chuckle that didn't sound genuine, especially under your curious gaze. You gave a quiet hum as sign of agreement.

"'s just that I...look, I understand if ya've found someone else. Hell, I took my sweet time and it wasn't fair how I treated you when you...", Arthur cleared his throat again, the words coming difficult to him, "when ya told me about yer feelings."

This was the point when your heartrate picked up and you felt your hands become sweatier. You had to put the blade down for a moment to wipe your hand on your shirt. Your mind was still caught on the line 'I understand if ya've found someone else'...like that had even been an option for you. For months you had tried to get over this man, then he came back waltzing into your life and you put your own ugly bounty poster on the wall as a reminder. And the you fixed the bedframe that he had fixed rather unsatisfyingly. You hadn't told him it broke the very same night he had “repaired” it. Nothing had changes the last year, you were pining as much for this man as ever...and yet, you didn't quite know how to react.

"I really like ya", he finally said, " I know well I don’t deserve it, but if ya wanted to give me another chance…"

"Morgan", you exhaled, "I got my boot between your balls and a blade at your throat...if you want to pull my leg I suggest you-"

"I mean it", and Arthur's gaze was so intense, this time it was you who struggled to watch him in the eye. You knew he wasn't lying. Hell, you hadn't really expected that he was just pulling your leg, you just said it to say something…to lighten up the mood that appeared so heavy again.

"Okay", you mumbled, barely able to disguise the tremor in your voice. Then you took the blade again, carefully turning Arthur's head upwards so you could better reach the hair you still needed to shave. There was this long and uncomfortable silence that neither of you wanted to break. You heard the birds outside, the blade scratching the skin and a heartbeat...if it was yours or Arthur's, you weren't quite sure.

Arthur thought that Guarma had been hell, but he found that your silence and okay was even more tortuous.

Finally, you were done. With a hairdressing brush you got rid of all the loose hair that decorated Arthur’s face. He gave you a slightly annoyed look as you tickled him behind his ears. Then you took the little towel that had prevented hair from falling into his shirt out in the garden to shake it out.  

The moment you stepped into the cabin again, Arthur's eyes caught yours and they were demanding an answer.

"I've never stopped loving you", the words burned as they left your mouth. The towel was thrown over an empty chair. Saying the words out loud…it changed something. Because as long as you had only thought them, there was this slim chance that they weren’t true. But there was no backing-out now, no denying.  

You continued: "But I can't...I won't rejoin the gang. I want to live here."

You said that because you knew that Arthur wouldn’t leave the gang for you, but you wouldn’t rejoin in either.

"Y/n...this thing is pretty much over", Arthur sighed. He was referring to the gang. He had alluded to it when he had recounted the happenings of the past weeks, especially breaking John out of jail and earning Dutch's disapproval. This was the first time he directly admitted it, "I want the Marstons safe...and the women...then it's done."

"Oh, so 'one more big score and then you can leave everything behind", you mimicked Dutch's voice. A tinge of animosity accompanied your words and this certainly wasn’t lost on Arthur. You couldn’t help but feel a bit unfairly placed in this situation.

"C'mere for a second", Arthur beckoned you, his eyes following every one of your movements until you stood in front of him, your hips brushing against the table. Arthur remained seated in his chair. Glancing at the man quickly, you congratulated yourself on having done a good job; his haircut looked sharp.

Then, suddenly, Arthur took your hand. It was such an unusual gesture, it alarmed you immediately. His hands were warm and rough, but not in an unpleasant way. Arthur held your hand lightly, as if he was afraid of hurting you.

"I promise this is the last time. In a week, we're going to hit a train with army pay. Wednesday evening. After that, I'm done", Arthur spoke earnestly.

"I can't-" believe you, you wanted to say, because you knew it had been the same story with Mary. You knew that once an outlaw means always and outlaw. Not even Arthur's word was enough to ensure that those bonds wouldn't bind him to his old life and to the gang.

"Don’t say nothing yet", Arthur interrupted calmly. He stood up and let your hand slide off his, as he walked to his satchel. He pulled out his journal and carefully put it next to you. With no hesitation, he opened and skimmed through it. You couldn't see most of the pages because he flipped through them so quickly.

"It ain't even half-way done", Arthur assessed, showing you the empty pages, "I'll leave that here 'n collect it in a week."

"What?", you questioned, frowning, "What if I decide to read it as a bedtime story?"

"'s nothing in there that yer not allowed to know", Arthur mumbled, "Contrary. Sometimes I think I'm much better expressing my feelings on paper. I've never been a good talker."

Silently, Arthur opened a page in his journal that had a little dog-ear. The left side was empty and only had smudges of pencil on it, on the right side there was this impressively detailed bounty poster. It had the layout of the bounty posters they have hanging all over town, obviously it wasn't printed, but hand drawn. You recognized your name, your 15-dollars-worth and then yourself, staring back at you. You hadn't imagined Arthur to be one to draw people, let alone portrait style. In the brush of his pencil you recognized that he might be more professed in sketching trees and animals, but it was a perfectly decent drawing of you. Hell, it was even flattering, compared to the atrocity they had on your real poster.

Arthur put the journal away, leaving it on top of a pile of books on your nightstand.

"I jus' need t'know if this is a place I'm allowed to return to", Arthur finally asked.

"Always", you replied without hesitation, your gaze still fixed on his journal. Is he trying in tempting you to read it? Because if that's the case, it was definitely working.

"So I won't be greeted with a gun in my face?", Arthur chuckled.

You sighed, taking a brush that stood abandoned in the corner of the room and started to swipe Arthur's hair out of the house. "If you're going to bring that up one more time, I swear I'll give you a reason to fear me", you quipped.

"Oh, I already fear you a great deal", Arthur said sarcastically.

You shot him an intense gaze.

"You staying for dinner?", you asked in between the sound of bristles scratching on wood.

Arthur shrugged, mumbling: "They won't miss me for another day..."

"Good. Then go hunt something", you asserted, gently shoving him outside by brushing against his boots until he took the hint.

"Yes ma'am...", Arthur mumbled, a hint of amusement in his voice. When you had successfully shoved him outside, you closed the door behind him, not without a bit of force. It left him slightly perplexed and wondering.

You had tried your best to hold your feelings together, but it had become a little much. Since Arthur's confession, your hands hadn't stopped shaking and you hastily put the brush aside, sitting down with your back against the door. There were so many feelings inside you that all needed to be addressed, but you struggled to even detangle them.

First and foremost: You had spent months pining for Arthur, only to be rejected in a cruel way and then again wasting months in trying to get over him. Just when you thought you were getting somewhere, he comes back into your life with a request that suggests anything but care for you. So, he leaves, and appears again. Then leaves again, presumed dead or out of country and now he's here again, asking for another chance as if you even had the power to reject him. You didn't know if Arthur would be able to make you happy. In a way, you feared it might be the opposite because there was still one score...one more score. He might die, or he might stay for another score, and another, and so on.

You stifled a sob. Scenarios played out in your mind, and they all converged into two possible outcomes, ending with Arthur dead or disappeared, disappointing you yet and yet again because one can't just stop being an outlaw. The 5000 on his head won't just disappear, presumed or actually dead - it didn't matter much.

"Son of a bitch", you hissed, mad at the situation.

You just wanted to be happy and find some closure for this surge of emotions that had held you hostage for months, if not years.  

"Y/n?", Arthur's voice was so soft when he called out your name, you almost jumped in shock because you thought he had long gone hunting. But his voice came from right in front of the door.

"You okay?", he asked quietly.

"Yeah", you croaked, and it sounded anything but convincing.

"Ya sure?", he wanted you to confirm.

"I just need some time to think...", you whispered, trying hard not to sob.

"I'll stay close", you heard him state, then there were his steps leading away from the house.

For a while, you just sat on the floor. How to proceed?

By the time Arthur returned, the door to your cabin was wide open again, the sun shining inside. You had made your decision.

"I got us a rabbit", Arthur announced, "already skinned it. Figured it ain’t your kinda work."

You responded with an appreciative nod.

"It’s a real beauty”, Arthur grinned, a wisp of humour in his eyes, “or was, anyhow.  I shot it with a small arrow so I reckon the meat-“ before Arthur could put the rabbit down on the table, you had sneaked in for a hug.

"Oh", Arthur stuttered, carefully placing the rabbit down. He lifted his bloody and dirty hands in the air to make sure not to get any dirt on you. Even though you wore clothes that had seen better days and apparently had been demoted to housework, he still didn’t want to get you dirty. Despite his desire to reciprocate the hug.

"Y/n…", he chuckled apologetically, "I need to get washed up."

At that moment, you suddenly looked up to him, your faces mere inches apart. He noticed your gaze drifting between his eyes and lips, then you leaned in, placing a gentle peck on his cheek.

The blush was immediate. Your hands instinctively found their way to his face and tenderly cupped his cheeks. They were just as warm as they had been when you cut his beard.

"I'm really glad you're here", you said, a smile playing on your lips.

"Yeah, I'm-" Arthur began, but you interrupted him with a proper kiss. It was a brief one, testing the waters if Arthur would be fine with that. As you pulled back slightly to assess his reaction, he didn’t hesitate a second, closing the distance between you once more. "I really …don't wanna get ya…dirty", Arthur mumbled between kisses. He could feel the corner of your lips curving into a smile each time you interrupted him. The man struggled to keep his dirty hands in the air.

The kisses quickly became more passionate, and when your hands left his cheeks, one to rest in the hollow between his shoulder and neck, while the other one boldly explored his chest region. It occasionally shifted to grab his arm and squeezing lightly.

Arthur mumbled your name warningly, twice. Then he couldn't help but put his hand in the small of your back, pushing you closer. His bloody hands would surely leave a mark on your clothes, but neither of you cared about that, as his hands became just as active as yours, sometimes cupping your cheek, at other times allowing himself to explore your body a little.

Arthur had just enough control to not place you on the rabbit, when he lifted you up on the table. When both of you became short of breath, Arthur rested his forehead against yours. Your legs had snaked around his, caging him in.

"Haven't done that in a long time", Arthur's voice was raspy as he tried to apologize for the somewhat sloppy make-out session.

"Me neither", you giggled and placed a final kiss on his cheek, "brushed your hair for nothing", you noted, looking up to Arthur's tousled hair. Your fault.

Arthur backed away a little, as much as your legs allowed him: "Christ." He had left signific signs of blood and dirt all over you.

"Mhh…", you hummed amusedly, "Ain't my fault you can't keep your hands to yourself."

"T'way I see it, darling…", Arthur smiled and tried to brush some dirt off your cheek with his thumb, "it's precisely your fault."

Arthur had headed to a keg outside to get cleaned. You decided to get cleaned up only after butchering the rabbit, as this would get your hands dirty again anyways. As the meat sizzled in the in the pan, you decided it was time to wash up as well. While you put the finishing touches on the dish, Arthur sat at the table, leisurely smoking a cigarette and observing you. He had asked if he could help you with anything, but you had declined, insisting that he had already done his part by hunting the rabbit. It was your turn prepare it.

When you plated the meal, it was really nothing too complicated, and yet, Arthur thought, for a free meal, it was perfect. You initiated a conversation; it was more light-hearted than the one you had when you cut his hair. The weightier themes seemed to have lifted from Arthur’s heart, and both of you sought distractions.

You told Arthur more about how you passed your days, gardening, drawing, riding into town. Really most of the money you earned the honest way, cutting hair and doing the odd delivery job for the grocery store.

It was frightening how easy it was to talk to Arthur. Two or three years ago, you would have never imagined, talking so freely to him. Though he'd always been kind, there was an air of unapproachability that had since crumbled completely after the heartfelt conversation you both shared.

The conversation where Arthur poured out his frustrations and regrets concerning Hosea's and Lenny's death, had brought a sense of liberation. It dawned on him how long it had been since he spoke so openly with anyone. Arthur leaned back into his chair. In front of him was his empty plate, opposite of the table, you sat within arm’s reach, chatting about an interesting traveller that came past your cabin a few months back. Arthur listened attentively, his eyes following the movements of your fingers skilfully rolling a cigarette.

Neither of you ran out of stories to tell the other. Arthur talked about people he had met on his travels, a clumsy photographer, a man obsessed with fast horses and racing.

You only realised how long you had been talking when the light in the cabin became sparse, the sun sinking closer to the horizon.

As the visibility waned, limited to the faint glow emitted by the burning tip of the cigarette, you finally rose to your feet to illuminate the cabin with the warm light of lanterns.

"I'll get my bedroll", Arthur announced, standing up with a grunt. He hadn't allowed himself to be this idle in a long time. All he had done today was sitting still for a haircut, killing one rabbit and then indulging in a lavish meal while engaging in easy conversation. His body had finally caught up with the stress of the last few weeks and he didn't know how to feel about how much his body ached. Despite the sun barely disappearing, Arthur would have been ready for bed. Funny, he thought, admitting one’s feeling for a girl could drain his strength that much.

At his announcement, Arthur noticed that you halted and were about to open your mouth as if to suggest something. But you didn't and let him venture outside.

When he took longer than anticipated, you followed him outside, only to find him leaning against the fence, his eyes in the sky. The sky was in this beautiful transition phase, going from hues of purple to a serene shade of blue with the first stars emerging in the east. You observed Arthur’s profile for a while, he didn't protest or showed any signs of being disturbed by your presence.

He was handsome. Something about his stature made you want to lean into him. But you didn't. Instead, you stood there, finding it hard to peel your eyes off him. Your lips quivered under the urge to say what you had thought earlier. After a big breath, you tried to say as casually as you managed: "I know my bed is too small for two people...but I was thinking if I put the mattress on the floor we could-"

"Y/N", Arthur interrupted you gently. He turned to look at you. Caringly, his hand found your shoulder, "It ain't right just yet."

Lying next to each other, cuddling, hugging, maybe stealing another kiss, you craved it badly. You finally had what you had desired for so long, you wanted it all at once. But Arthur knew that it would be unwise. He thought a lot about you, hell he did. And in his mind, he'd be too embarrassed to admit it of course, you had done way more than just kissed. But he knew it'd be wrong. He didn't want to fully commit just yet, and he didn't want to get your hopes up. It was genuine, when he said that the train robbery was the last score he wanted to do with the gang, but one train robbery is enough to get killed and he wouldn't dream about giving you this kind of pain. If he held it vague, if there was no sleeping close to each other, there was also no missing this proximity...if. Always if.

"Fine", you sucked in a little air, "but you take the bed then."

The two of you headed inside, Arthur with his bedroll clamped under his arm.

He shook his head: "It's your house, I can't jus'-"

"Exactly. It's my house, I can sleep in the bed every damn day. Besides, I don't figure you had a proper bed on Guarma, did you?", you teased.

"No, but-"

"Neither do you have one in camp so please- accept it", you looked up at Arthur rather desperately.

"Fine. You don't come complainin' to me if yer back hurts tomorrow", Arthur quipped.

"Oh, I'll definitely complain", you grinned. Arthur gave you his bedroll to spread in the corner where he had slept the last time. Arthur had sat down on the bed and watched you quietly as you readied your sleeping corner. When you glanced back at him, it was evident how weary he was, his eyes barely open, sitting up only out of politeness.

"You don't have to stay awake for me", you smiled, leaning against the table and studying the exhausted man. You noticed how tired he had become during your conversation. He had at least supressed three yawns.

"I jus'...haven't seen ya for so long, I don't want to waste that time with sleeping", Arthur explained. You found it cute he thought that way.

"You're not wasting anything", 'because we'll see each other again in a week, right?' you added in your mind. "I have this book I want to finish anyways, you just rest", you assured him.

You waited until he had settled in, exchanging a couple laughs about how unstable your bedframe was, and then you did the dishes. It didn't take you long, but Arthur was asleep when you had finished. He was turned towards the wall. On the nightstand was his journal. He had put it on top of the book you were currently reading. You took the book and settled on the bedroll.

You woke up to the sound of the bed creaking and blinked at Arthur, the first rays of the sun casting a warm glow on his frame. At some point during the night, he must have woken up and shed his clothes, as he now rested in the room clad only in his unionsuit.

"'m sorry, darlin'. I didn't want to wake ya", he apologized his raspy morning voice.

"It's okay", you yawned, forcing yourself to throw off your blanket to stand up, "I'll make some coffee."

In a couple big steps, Arthur was at your side: "You sleep some more, it's my turn for breakfast." Arthur squatted next to you and tugged you in before you could protest. You forced your tired eyes to stay on his face and not venture further down, pondering what the thin material might reveal.

When Arthur shot you a content smile, seeing you were up for no protest, a wave of panic washed over you.

"You won't just leave, right?", all of a sudden, you were wide awake.

"I won't", Arthur assured you.

"'cause if you do-", you started, a yawn interrupting your threat. Arthur chuckled at how cute and innocent you looked, happy that your yawn cut off before you could destroy that innocence with another gory threat.

"I'm way too scared of what you'd do", and then, to your surprise, he kissed your forehead. You only relaxed when Arthur had stood up again and indeed started to set up coffee. You were soon off to sleep again, only woken when the sizzling of fat in the pan woke you.

Arthur had made eggs. You ate in silence. A couple of times, Arthur tried to start a conversation, but you weren’t in the mood. He’d be gone in a couple of hours and you’d be left wondering if he’d ever return. Arthur knew that this was what was plaguing you, but he didn’t find the right angle to approach you.

You both did the dishes together, you helped Arthur by saddling his horse and then he had mounted it, looking down at you.

“Ya ain’t so happy about the prospect of me returning in a week, ‘s that it?”, Arthur joked.

“No”, you answered dryly, “I ain’t so happy about you leaving for a week.”

Arthur sighed and steered his horse closer to the fence: “Climb up here, I gotta tell ya something.”

Rather unwillingly, you climbed on one of the horizontal planks that kept your fence together. Arthur offered his hand for support and as an excuse to pull you a little closer. He kissed you, gently, on your lips.

“I promised I’ll be back, didn’t I?”, Arthur mumbled. He wasn’t convinced, and neither were you when you whispered a dire “Yeah..”

You didn’t like the good-bye kiss. In fact, you wished he hadn’t done that. It hurt even more, seeing him disappear between the trees in the distance. For a while, you stood there helplessly, wondering what to do next. Minutes passed before you ventured into your cabin, distracting yourself with some cleaning before your eyes fell on Arthur’s journal. You noticed a piece of paper sticking out. Without thinking, you opened the journal and the loose paper floated to the ground. You didn’t even bother picking it up, your eyes caught the first word written on top of the page. It was your name, written in Arthur’s familiar handwriting.

“Hell no”, you kicked the paper under the bed before you could read any further. You weren’t up for some heartfelt “Good-bye, in case I die I want you to know this”-letter. Frustration and anger bubbled within you as you scrambled into your good jeans and crammed your revolver into its back pocket. With a swift motion, you picked up your hunting rifle, mounted your horse and started to follow Arthur’s track.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x--x-x-x-x-x-x-x

next chapter: here

Shoutout to @little-honeypie who basically wrote the confession scene. I wouldn't have ever finished this if it weren't for them <3

taglist: @photo1030

taglist for this series: @pinkiemme @loveheartarthur @twola @shiokitsune @missredemption @kakashiislut @thewalkingdead1463 @yyiikes @renwai @walk-in-sunshine @rdrlady @ivybeeloved @trinswhimsys @reddedmiller @chiefqueefsosa @sauvignon-velvet @mrsarthurmorgan @readingcoco @pookiesnatcher @gloomdoomraccoon