#the home game now back in stock
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Let’s talk merchandizing.
I would honestly be surprised if sending in an application to be on Danganronpa, the popular television show that literally gets away with murder, did not involve a waiver signing away the rights to your OC.
“The investigation is wrapping up and soon it will be time for another class trial! Virtual World Miu plushes now available in the online store! Squeeze her neck and she’ll say one of ten iconic lines! Order before the class trial concludes and get a Monokub plush free!”
#danganronpa#danganronpa v3#the home game now back in stock#everyone’s wild backstories get released as manga or light novels after their deaths#tsumugi worked hard on those characters and shes making it everyone’s problem
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Your girlfriend had never exactly been "skinny". She wasn't fat by any means (not when you two got together at least), but there was always a certain roundness to her that caught your eye from the beginning. It was just enough to make it clear that she wasn't someone who put in any time at the gym. She didn't have those firm edges and defined angles that muscle would have given her figure... She was too lazy to strive for that. She just wasn't all that motivated by food, so she never ate enough for her weight to really change.
That was before she moved in with you, though.
It wasn't intentional at first. She spent a lot of time at home, since she only worked part-time, and you had always kept your fridge and pantry stocked with a bunch your favourite snacks... which also turned out to be some of her favourite snacks. When she lived alone, she was too disorganised to keep her pantry properly stocked, so snacks were a luxury that diminished fast at her old place. Living with you meant they were always getting refreshed as soon as they started to run out, so she didn't have that natural limitation.
And it started to show.
It was slow enough that it took you both by surprise, but she was getting bigger. Every morning, you noticed how much longer it took her to get ready, even as she remained oblivious to how her routine was adapting. She fought to put on her panties every morning, stretching them to their limit as they were pulled over her rounder ass; she needed to suck in her belly as far as she could just to get her jeans to button up, and the strain they were under was she let her gut spill back out was clear even from where you would watch her; she would need to try on two or three tops before she found one that didn't leave the underside of her belly exposed. She blamed it on the fact you were making sure she drank more water now.
And you... agreed with her.
You knew that wasn't the truth. You always took out the garbage, and always saw the empty bags of chips and chocolate bar wrappers that you definitely knew hadn't been put there by you, but even though the fact she was plumping up from all that eating was obvious to you... You didn't want to reveal that to her.
Because then she'd probably stop eating so much. And then you wouldn't get to see her grow bigger.
You had never had a particularly strong preference about your girlfriend's size. Slim, thick, you loved her no matter what she weighed. But this was more than that. The way she was so oblivious to the way her body was changing, the way her clothes were straining to keep up, the fact that the snacks in your pantry were definitely disappearing faster than they had been when she first moved in... It was pushing all the right buttons for you. Sex had never been better, and she still hadn't noticed that you hands seemed to be spending a lot more time than usual groping her softer ass cheeks or squeezing the fat roll that was forming around her midsection.
So you kept your observations to yourself, and made sure to double your snack purchases to make sure she never ran out of them while she was watching TV or gaming at home while you were out at work. You even started leaving some in the living room sometimes, so that she could indulge her appetite without even needing to think about it. You'd get home in the evening to find her lying on the couch, finishing off her sixth bag of chips, her jeans unbuttoned to make room for the extra belly she was sporting... And then she'd ask what you wanted to do for dinner.
But you weren't fattening her up. You were just making it easier for her to do that to herself. It was all her decision, after all. As far as anyone could prove, you just hadn't noticed that you were buying boatloads of your girlfriend's favourite snacks and leaving them all around the house for her to mindlessly graze on all day long. Her eating habits just totally slipped by you...
That excuse didn't hold up so well when you started bleaching the tags on her clothes so that she wouldn't notice you replacing them with the next size up any time she started struggling to pick out an outfit that she could still fit her fat gut into. But still weren't technically forcing her to eat so much and never exercise any of those calories off. You were just... making sure her clothes stayed comfortable! And that she didn't get self-conscious about rapidly approaching the plus-sized range of clothes! Yeah, you were totally just being a good boyfriend.
You were always on her side when she would complain that your favourite restaurants were sneakily reducing their serving sizes. Of course that's what they're doing, babe! Why else would you still be hungry after your usual order? We'll get you a second dessert though, it's okay...
And you always reassured when she would ask you if you thought she looked a little different lately. You look as beautiful as you always have, babe. I'm sure your face just looks a little rounder because of the way you've been styling your hair lately. Don't be silly babe, you don't have a double-chin, it's just the lighting. Your thigh gap is still there sweetheart, don't worry, your belly just blocks your view of it.
You did so much to keep her spirits up when she got laid off from work, too! Bringing home take-out for her to cheer her up when you'd come home from work, telling her she could spend as long as she needed cooped up in the house, encouraging her interest in taking up baking to fill in her now-abundant free time...
You were just being a good boyfriend. It's not you fault she got so fat...
As you get back from work with the three twelve-inch pizzas she asked you to pick up on the way home though, and watch her struggle to rock herself onto her feet from her position seated on the couch, you do feel a tiny bit responsible for what she has become.
Maybe you did enable her NEET tendencies, just a bit. But she has such a big smile on her face as she waddles towards you in the doorway, licking her lips, so she can't be that bothered by the fact that she hasn't really left the house in the past month...
And maybe she wouldn't be so obese if you didn't make her heavy-cream milkshakes whenever she mentioned being in the mood for something sweet. But could the dozens of pounds of flab and blubber jiggling and bouncing on her frame with every step she took towards you definitely be blamed on those thousands of empty calories?
An argument could be made that telling her that she didn't have to keep wearing clothes around the house if she didn't want to didn't really help her waistline... But you stopped being able to find clothes in her size eventually, and she was going to notice her outfits tearing sooner or later if you didn't do something. You think her new au natural suits her really well, though! You love the fact that you don't have to wait until you get her into the bedroom to see the thick rolls of chub adorning her once-flat tummy, or the thick layers of cellulite coating her ass and thighs, or her pendulous tits that bounce against each other with every step she takes. It's not like she seems to mind the fact that it's so much easier for you to grope every fleshy inch of her, either.
As she reaches you and opens up the first pizza box, she stops for a second, her hand already halfway towards her first delicious slice. She looks at you, and when she catches her breath, she speaks:
"Babe... Do you think I'm getting fat?"
#fat piggy#feedee encouragement#feedee piggy#feeding kink#fat#feedee girl#feedee belly#fat belly#gaining weight#fat pig
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An arranged marriage with James Potter
Something had happened over the summer that made James Potter the most love-sick fool in all of Hogwarts. Purebloods being purebloods, it wasn’t uncommon for children to be paired up early on to secure the bloodline. While this happened mostly between the old-arching Slytherin families, an example being Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black, every once in a while, the other houses would participate too.
Such was the case with James Potter and Y/n L/n. The L/n’s had spanned generations, stretching back to even the Gaunt’s time. But, such as the Gaunt family, the L/n family had run into some bad luck. Stocks didn’t go the way they wanted or something of the sort and now they were in ruining trouble.
Euphemia Potter was usually one to scoff at arranged marriages, wanting the children to find love for themselves, blood status be damned. However, the L/n’s were good friends of hers and James had written home multiple times about their daughter. From his letters, it seemed as if the two were already dating. It was a perfect coincidence. Euphemia and Fleamont agreed instantly, lifting the weight of a thousand bricks off of the patriarch of the L/n household.
However, James and Y/n were not dating. Much to James’ annoyance, the only thing between them was his unrequited infatuation towards Y/n.
So that’s where the pair found themselves at the beginning of seventh year. Y/n L/n trying to fly under the radar and not draw any attention to herself or the new ring on her finger, and James Potter doing everything in his power to show off their relationship and spoil her in front of everyone.
It began at the start of the year feast. James had an arm around Y/n’s shoulder the entire time. When a third year nervously asked if the two were dating, staring reverently up at James, the boy grinned and looked to Y/n. “I don’t know, love, are we?”
Y/n pushed James’ arm off her shoulder and indelicately said, “no. Take him.” The third year blushed and mumbled their way out of the conversation as James clutched his wounded heart.
During classes, James would loudly correct the professors from Miss. L/n to Mrs. Potter. It earned him wry smiles from McGonagall and Sprout, chuckles from Slughorn and Flitwick, and a cold glare from Y/n. The students all looked a bit confused whenever this happened, but chalked it up to the usual antics of James Potter.
In the courtyard or by the Black Lake, James would lay his head on Y/n’s lap, even if she pushed him off or was sitting with her knees up. There were roses on her bed and notes in her bag and it got to the point where Y/n didn’t even question how James had snuck into her dorm.
If Y/n ever went to Hogsmead, James was sure to follow. No matter what she bought, he would pay for. Even if she got frustrated, he would slip the galleons up onto the counter, grinning at the cashier. He wanted to show her that he could provide for her and give her a nice home. As she would walk from shop to shop, he would point out colours of shops, saying, “oh, that would be a good colour for our bathroom. Look at that little cuckoo clock! Y/n, we have to get it.”
He would follow wherever she went, asking what seemed like meaningless questions. Have you ever had any pets? Do you like the country or city better? Any aspirations for your career? What’s a place you always wanted to visit? Y/n thought nothing of it, but to James, her answers were slowly sculpting his future. Would she want a dog or a cat in our home? Where should our house be? I would like the country so our kids could run around more, but we can easily make the city work if she wants. Should I be a stay-at-home dad? Or could we juggle two careers? Where should our honeymoon be?
Quidditch games were no better, because after every goal the chaser scored – and he scored a lot – he would look to the stands, find his fiancée, and blow her a kiss. Before every match, one of his spare jerseys would be laid out on her bed, a small note attached, begging her to wear it. She never did and he always gave her a pout when he realised it. And God forbid she didn’t go to the games. Once, she had been studying for an upcoming exam and hadn’t been able to make it. James had thrown a fit. Sirius had to drag him away from Madame Hooch before he secured an entire year of detention, but the boy still refused to get in the air. Madame Hooch threatened to start the game and make Gryffindor play a catcher down, but thankfully Remus and Peter had just found Y/n and dragged her to the pitch. The moment James saw her, he beamed and kicked off, broom now in the air. They had ended up winning. James spent the afterparty with his head on Y/n’s lap, arms reaching up to encircle her waist. He continuously reminded her how awful it would’ve been if she hadn’t shown up and only shut up when she began running her fingers through his hair.
And every night, no matter if he went to bed first or she did, James would always go over to Y/n and give her a soft kiss on the forehead and a whispered, “sweet dreams.” No matter where she was, this became a daily occurance in Y/n’s life. At first, she tried to avoid it by sneaking off to the library whenever James began yawning and tossing around the idea of going to bed. But he would find her. She tried the kitchens, hoping he didn’t think to look for her there. But he would find her. She tried being in a group with her friends, in animated conversations. But he would weave his way through the group, step in front of her, and still say goodnight. It was like he had this magical map that told him where she was at all times. It was bloody infuriating.
Much to James’ dismay, no progress seemed to be made. At least she was staying faithful to her fiancé, the Marauders reassured him as James griped and moaned. He would sling himself onto a common room chair, conveniently in the earshot of his dearest. Y/n would just roll her eyes.
The majority of Hogwarts didn’t know what to do with them. The girls would swoon when they heard the new thing James Potter had come up with to woo Y/n L/n. The boys would huff and grumble about needing to step up their own game when it came to their girlfriends. James was setting the bar too high. The teachers would sit around, taking time to sip a well-deserved drink, as they complained how if L/n didn’t soon see the boy that was right in front of her, helpless to his love, then Potter was going to have a breakdown.
Yet, Y/n continued to push him away. James could be patient. He had been waiting practically seven years – he could wait a little more, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hurt whenever she brushed him off. She could’ve said no to the engagement. She could’ve punched or hexed him. It didn’t seem like she truly hated him, more like she was embarrassed and tired of him.
“I don’t get it,” James said finally one night. He laid out on his bed, long limbs stretching over the place as Peter and Sirius played Exploding Snap on the floor.
Remus was reading on his own bed. The werewolf sighed, knowing where this was going. “What don’t you get, Prongs?”
“Why doesn’t Y/n like me?” James murmured, looking at his friends with large, hurt eyes.
“Mate,” Sirius said. One of the cards exploded, making Peter flinch. “Listen. She likes you, yeah? How else are you able to get close to her? I swear, you were practically on top of her a couple days ago.” He scoffed and laid down a card.
James groaned loudly and exclaimed, “but I’ve tried everything! Hell, we’re literally engaged! I can’t go through an entire marriage like this. Especially not with the woman I love.”
Peter piped up, smiling sincerely at James. “Hey, I’m sure she’ll realise it soon enough. I think she loves you back. She’s just scared.”
“But I’m me!” James shouted out. “I’m not scary!” He looked around wildly at his friends. “Am I?” he asked pathetically.
“I think if you have to ask if you’re scary,” Remus pointed out, “then you’re not scary.”
Sirius grinned. “Excellent point, as always, Moony.”
Remus sighed and gave James a pointed look. “Perhaps, the best thing to do is talk to her. Since she is your future wife, after all.”
“I do talk to her!” James argued. “I ask her about her day and tell her about our pranks. She- she responds. She’s very sweet, you know, but she never shows any affection.”
“Maybe you’re pressuring her,” Peter commented. “By being all lovey-dovey. You could try being her friend first?”
James didn’t think he could do that. He already thought of Y/n as his wife. He already thought of her as one of his best friends. But what else could he do to get her to feel the same way?
The next week, James took Peter’s words into consideration. Instead of leaving flowers in her dorm, James asked if he could join her in the library for a study session. Instead of blowing her kisses during Quidditch games, he just waved. Instead of envisioning their future, he focused on the present.
It wasn’t until three weeks had passed that James noticed the results. Y/n began coming to him with some questions on schoolwork. Y/n waved back at Quidditch games, shooting him a thumbs up in encouragement. Y/n wouldn’t fiddle with her engagement ring nervously, as if worried someone would spot it.
The girl noticed her changed behaviour too. On a random Thursday, when James came to kiss her goodnight, she paused her conversation and whispered back, “sleep well,” angling her body so he wouldn’t have to reach as far to kiss her temple. Soon after, she excused herself from her friends, flustered. Y/n paced around her dorm, twisting the ring back and forth.
A knock came at the door. “Hey,” James murmured as he pushed open the door. “Are you okay?”
Y/n turned to face him. “You actually care about me, don’t you?” she whispered.
James couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course,” he replied. “Why on earth would you think otherwise?”
She shrugged. “It seemed fake, you know? Like this one big prank to single me out. But then you actually seemed excited and willing to marry me, James. Marriage. This is the rest of our lives and we haven’t even kissed!”
James cracked a smirk. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I can fix that really easily.”
“But you think you’re in this for the long run?” Y/n asked desperately. ��For- for the fights? The late nights? The chores? And we haven’t even talked if we want kids or not!”
“Love,” he interrupted her spiral. “Have you thought about the waking up every morning in my arms? The dancing in the kitchen for no reason? The anniversary dinners where I profess my love over and over again?” He stepped forward, placing his warm hands on her arms soothingly. “And if you want, I would love to have mini replicas of us running around, waking us up in the middle of the night because of a night terror. I would love for them to disrupt our dancing in the kitchen by demanding they want to dance too. And I would love for them to groan when they see me being all sappy towards my wife.”
How could any girl say no when James Potter was standing before her, promising her endless devotion? The kiss was slow, James’ lips slowly moving against hers. He revelled in the warmth of her body and how her head tilted to him as he cupped her cheek gently. All short and lovely and sweet, the kisses were exactly how James had dreamed.
The couple parted and the boy stared down at her. His finger went up to brush her bottom lip before murmuring, “will you marry me?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
#james potter x reader#james potter#harry potter#harry potter fanfic#marauders#maraders era#sirius black#remus lupin#peter pettigrew#james fleamont potter#the marauders#the maraunders map#euphemia potter#fleamont potter#james potter fic#james potter x you#hp#hp marauders#hp fanfic
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complacent - feat. itoshi rin
w/c: 2.5k
synopsis : your brother's friend, rin, comes over after a match to analyse their plays together and hang out. you're busy yelling at your teammates in-game when rin comes in to teach you how to properly aim.
info : NSFW, dom!rin x fem!reader, oneshot, brother's best friend au, smut, gamer!reader, pet names (bunny, princess, good/pretty girl), unprotected sex, slight dry humping, swearing, marking/hickeys, slightly jealous rin, feat. gamer friend!nagi
other : this is my first time uploading my fics here hehe, hope you enjoy!
"Nagi, can you properly smoke off A site for me next time?" The annoyance in your voice seethes through each word.
"M'kay but only if you properly defend the site next time" He retorts.
"Fuck you, Nagi." You sigh, "I'll be back, don't start another match without me I'm gonna get some water". Nagi hums in response as you hear the faint sounds of a Reddit storytime through your headset.
You mute your mic before standing up and stretching your legs, your whole body shaking from the sudden movement. The fabric of your t-shirt reaches your mid-thigh as you ease your body back down. The absence of shorts was so freeing, especially in the brisk afternoons of the blossoming spring season. Unfortunately, your door hinges have been broken ever since you slammed it a little too hard. So when you pull the door open wider, the brief thought of your brother and his friend coming back from their football match enters your mind. You sneak a glance from out of your room, searching for any sign that they're still here when you notice your brother's car keys missing from the bowl near the front door.
Grabbing the empty cup in your room, you step out onto the cold floor of your house with your sights on the kitchen pantry with its newly stocked snacks. With a smile creeping on your face, you open the pantry only to be greeted with… Kikkoman soy sauce and an open multi-pack of instant ramen. The disappointment bites into your stomach. ‘I’ll just steal some of his food when he comes back’ your mind is already planning what he might bring home for himself you.
Luckily, you’re prepared for your annoying brother to do annoying things. Pushing past the random assortment of ingredients and sauces you reach into the cupboard for your hidden stash. You grab your snack and turn around to refill your cup with some water when you hear a creak of the floorboards. Fuck.
Your heart picks up and your eyes follow straight to the turquoise eyes of your brother’s friend, Rin. He’s staring right at you, unsettlingly. It’s not like you guys hate each other, nor are you best friends either. He’s just someone your brother hangs out with, but this is the first time you get to really look at him.
Before, you’d just hide in your room as your brother and his friends would come over, semi-afraid of them and also wanting to give them privacy so your brother could do the same when your friends came over. You’ve seen Rin play when you’d go to your sibling’s matches and his name was often passed around as the best player on his team. However, your brother’s expression would grow stiff with a sense of rage when mentioning Rin’s plays. Jealousy, maybe? Now that he’s standing right there for you to see, you feel embarrassed in the presence of such a highly-praised player.
You dare to look up into his mosaic-like eyes and notice how expressionless he is, as if he were a living portrait. For a moment, you really thought he was inanimate until he furrowed his brows and started to watch each part of you. Analyzing each part of your body like you were prey, he stares at you with that same mundane look on his face.
You quickly turn back to the tap and fill your cup with water, now deadly aware of his stare.
“Hey.” He tries to fill the silence between you two, though his attempt yields more awkward tension than before.
“Uh, hi…”
“You’re uh… his younger sibling?” He asks as if he’s never spoken a word until today. His voice is flat but you can tell there's an air of nervousness around the two of you.
You nod as you begin to walk past him.
“Where’d he go?”
“Somewhere to get take out… I forgot where but, uh, yeah…” He trails off.
God, what is with this awkward silence?
You look back before you walk into the hallway to your room and you see him lean his back against the kitchen countertop, staring into the floor and clasping the sides of his cheekbones with his thumb and index. His dark ivy locks falling above his eyes and the way his body shapes himself against the counter - it’s all so… enamoring.
Glancing at his hand on the countertop, you can only imagine the type of training he does to get his veins running up his forearm like that. The man behind all these super goals - this was him. To avoid his eyes finding yours again, you sneak back into your room, door ajar no matter how many times you try to close it, and now you're back to the light of your monitor and the deafening sounds of the game.
--
Holy shit, she's beautiful.
Rin could barely, fucking, breathe. He knew you were pretty, but he didn't realize you were that pretty. The other members of the team would tease your brother about how they only come over to get a glance at his sister and Rin would scrunch his nose in utter repulse. How could these lukewarm losers ever think of being acknowledged by you? A goddess amongst men. He believed that when the sun hides itself behind the clouds, it's shying away from your radiance. A million lifetimes and yet you exist in his, and oh how lucky he feels to live alongside someone like you.
Almost subconsciously, he walks to your room, his head spinning with all the times your eyes have passed over him during his matches. Whenever he scored, he'd make a quick glance your way, trying to see if you were looking and he was always sourly disappointed when you would be looking at your phone or looking somewhere else. When you were looking, his heart would bounce around his ribcage and his stoic expression would melt into a small smile.
But when you were looking and cheering on for someone else's goal? He'd seethe with malice. His jaw would clench and it didn't matter who had the ball - opponent or not; he'd make sure the next goal would be his.
So, to see you stare at him with your doe eyes, was more than he could take. He watched the way your hair flowed down your scalp, the slight part in your lips, the way your t-shirt covered the parts Rin wanted most, and the scent of lavender in your hair and fresh floral notes on your skin. When his mind started to wander places elsewhere, he had to stop himself from pursuing the thought any further. He wanted so bad to hold you, right there, and feel the way you press against his body. Memorize every part of you.
Before he could process what he was doing, he was already outside your room, leaning against the doorframe. He pushes the door out so you notice him, but your focus is solely on your game. Your legs were perched on your chair and your whole face steeled with concentration. It wasn't until you died, that you noticed he'd been standing out there watching you.
--
"You suck at this game." Rin scoffs.
What is he doing here?
"And you'd be any better?" You glare back at him, but your eyes start wandering and you have to look back at your monitor before blushing at these unyielding thoughts of him.
"Let me play. You're losing anyway." He walks over to you and you begin to notice yourself critically. You begin to notice your legs being squished up against your body as you play or how your posture is harshly curved into a 'C' shape, so you straighten up and start to fiddle with your hair, desperately shaping it into something a little more presentable. Why should I care? He'd never see me like that anyway.
"Fine, one round but if you lose you owe me ice cream." You barter, he nods in response. Satisfied with this deal, you stand up from your chair and watch as he adjusts the chair for himself.
Once the next round starts, his face changes ever so slightly to concentrate on his player movements. Every swipe of the mouse and touch of the keyboard is intentional when he plays, all while being silent. You can hear Nagi through the headset impressed at, what he thinks is, your kill streak. Rin kills the last two guys in quick precise motions that the opponents begin to accuse you of cheating.
"Y/N are you seriously using Aimbot right now?" Nagi asks, dumbfounded at your sudden spike in gameplay.
Rin looks back at you with this smug, self-confident look and you roll your eyes in response.
"Here I'll show you what you're doing wrong." He pats his thigh, motioning you to sit down in his lap. Your heart starts drumming and you sit down on his left thigh. Flustered, your shaky hands grab on the mouse and keyboard to play the next round.
"Uh, is this okay?" You quietly ask, embarrassed as all hell.
"Mhm." He whispers back into your ear and you start to move around to get to a comfortable spot. Your bare thighs are touching his left leg and you can feel his chin resting above his shoulder. When the next round starts, you play as you normally do.
"Here, aim up more." Suddenly, his hand is on top of yours and he aims your crosshair upwards. He's giving you tips on how to play but all you can think about is the way his hand feels against yours. Rougher, but slender and light. He smells of fresh linen and hints of citrus, his body covering yours completely. His arms, fuck, his arms. Strong and muscular, every tendon feeling taught against his shirt. Your fragile heart could barely take it all in. He was overbearingly beautiful.
"Are you even paying attention?" He asks against your ear and you try to move your focus towards the game. His breath was hot against your skin and you tried hard not to think about what it would feel like to indulge in his lips. You find someone camping at their spawn and you shoot, just like you were told. The round ends with you killing the last enemy and you look at him and smile.
He grabs onto your waist, looks back at you, and whispers, "Good girl". His nose is pressed against yours and you're staring into each other's eyes before you move in a little bit closer to hover your lips above his. Moments pass before he hugs your waist tighter and gently places a kiss against your lips. Pure ecstasy. You'd never imagined that this would ever take place, ever - and yet here you are. Kissing Itoshi Rin. You press yourself closer to him, your arms on his shoulders and around the headrest. Permitting yourself to the delicate and slow kisses he leads with, you close your eyes to memorize each movement. You burn the feeling of his hand against your back and the other caressing your thigh into your mind.
Your body aches for him, and his does too. You bite the bottom of his lip, playfully teasing your tongue into his and you start to feel him poking against your thigh. You smile as you kiss him further and when you release your lips from his, you look at his pretty lashes flutter open when he looks back at you. Ah, fuck.
"Please" you whisper into his ear as you grind up against him a little bit more. That's all he needed to hear to slide your panties down, undo his pants and free his needy cock from his boxers.
"Ready, bunny?" He grumbles into your collarbone as you hum a response. His hands place you on top of him, the slick of your wetness and his pre-cum squeezing onto him. Rin's cock twitches as you take him in with gasps and heavy moans. He reaches inside of you, touching the insides of your walls and eagerly trembling for more. Before you can speak, he's already making quick work of your body and easing you up and down.
"Mmngh- R- Rinnie…" He grunts in response and slaps your ass, warranting a moan and for you to clench around him tighter. The sounds of your skin slapping against each other, paired with your beautiful moans were already edging Rin closer and closer.
His cock felt so good. The way it hit the right spots and the way his hands grasped at your body desperately - he made you feel like you were practically melting into him. "You-re a- all mine, okay bunny?" He teases as your pussy tightens around his length. You moan in response and kiss the side of his neck sloppily.
"Fuck, I'm- hngh, close…" He managed to pant out, exasperated by the feeling of your pussy. "Mm~ pl- please… Rin-rin… ple- ah!" He's already bouncing you faster on him, your head spinning with the way he's fucking you. He groans and marks you from your collarbones all the way down to your tits. A knot begins to tighten inside of you and your moans become more erratic and loud as he continues to fuck your insides.
"Come to me, princess." He moans and repeats against your skin and pulls you closer to feel you release against him. You're so tight and he can barely move against your grip as the both of you cum. His warm liquid fills you up, making you feel all sticky inside. "That's a good girl, hm?" He whispers between pants as he slows down and rides out both of your highs. Fuck, he felt so good.
As you begin to kiss him again, you hear your brother's car rumble into the driveway. Ah, shit. Rin rushes to kiss you one more time before sliding you off of him and replacing his cock with his fingers. Your thighs close around his hand as he reaches inside of you again.
"Rinnie- my brother's~ a- ah, he's- mmngh-" His fingers are moving inside and curling perfectly into the spot he just fucked.
"Open wide for me."
Your mouth is open with your tongue out as he places his fingers on your tongue and inside of your mouth. You lick his cum off clean and he pulls your panties back up before zipping his pants back up too. Rin grabs the tissues from your bedside table and wipes the evidence clean. He kisses your forehead and moves your shirt so your brother won't notice all the marks down your collarbone.
"Yo! What're you doing outside my sister's door?" Your brother questions with a bag of takeout in one hand.
"Watching them play that shitty game. They suck at it, by the way." His gaze lingers on you a little longer before following your brother back into his room. Your pussy is still warm and aching from what just happened and it takes a while for you to realize that your team won and Nagi's already pestering you to respond to him before he queues you two into another match.
a/n: aa this is my first time uploading smut hehe I hope you enjoyed! I'd love requests and ideas for more bllk oneshots/ff's :) I adore rin so much hehehe I hope this was enjoyable for any readers out there!
cc: @p0mko100, please do not reupload or redistribute any of my work.
#rin itoshi x reader#rin x reader#bllk x reader#bllk smut#rin smut#itoshi rin smut#itoshi rin oneshot#rin itoshi smut#bllk oneshot#fanfiction#p0mko100
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𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟
pretty paper
husband!joe x fem!reader
summary: you need joe’s help wrapping presents… what better way to get him to comply than asking him to unwrap you after?
warnings: 18+, MDNI. p in v, wrap it before ya tap it!! oral (m. & f. receiving), hair-pulling (slightly), spanking.
word count: 2.5k.
note: merry christmas eve 🎄only one more fic left of fic-mas! it’s been fun. title is from the song pretty paper by willie nelson, but the lyrics don’t really apply here. hope you enjoy this one!
you were going to make joe wrap christmas presents with you.
sure, he’d probably be tired from practice and from the game earlier in the week, but you needed help. it was a blessing and a curse that gift-giving was one of your outgoing love languages.
you’d always been told you were thoughtful and a good listener, and that’s what really helped you pick the perfect gifts for your loved ones. you made a mental note every time someone mentioned something they liked or wanted to you, and then you were really able to let that shine through in moments like these, holidays or birthdays.
the issue with this being your outgoing love language was that you were a bit of an overzealous shopper - you just didn’t know when to stop. you had a mountain of presents to wrap now, and it was going to take you forever, unless you enlisted joe’s help.
you concocted the perfect plan to get him to help you.
you knew precisely when he’d be home, and you planned to have every gift sitting in the den, along with wrapping paper, tape, scissors and bows. you would cook him dinner, offer him to go take a shower if he didn’t at the facility, and then the begging would start. you knew he’d deny you, but you didn’t care. you were prepared to bring out the big guns.
about an hour and a half before joe was set to arrive home you headed upstairs to take a shower, washing your hair and quickly yet carefully running a razor over the parts of your body you wanted smooth.
you got out when you were satisfied, quickly wrapping a towel around your body, and then one around your hair. you lotioned up, put on deodorant and a spritz of perfume, and then you applied a thin coat of mascara.
you dried your hair halfway before getting frustrated with how long it was taking, and you thought half dry would be good enough anyway, so who really cared.
you checked the time on your phone and realized you only had about forty-five left. you quickly padded over to the bedroom and dropped your towel in the dirty hamper before opening your top drawer.
you pulled out the brand new lacy red lingerie set, admiring all the pieces as you laid them at the foot of your bed. you slipped the thong on first, pulling it up and making sure it felt right and was snug in all the right places.
the garter was next, you stepped into it and pulled it up to your waist, positioning it perfectly. you put the bra on last, fastening it on the tightest option to make sure your cleavage looked just right and that you were spilling perfectly over the cups, just a bit like you wanted. you walked to your closet, admiring yourself in the floor length mirror. you looked damn good.
inside the closet you grabbed the last pieces of your attire. you slid on a pair of red thigh-high stockings that had bows just at the top, and you fastened your garters to them.
next you slipped a pair of old gray sweats on, followed by your favorite band tee. you had to play it cool with joe to get this to work, so the most everyday inconspicuous outfit option was the best choice.
once you were satisfied with how you were dressed, you lugged all of the gifts downstairs, placing them on the floor and on the couch. you ran back up to grab the other essentials and then placed them on the coffee table before heading to the kitchen and starting dinner.
you decided on making steak and a few different vegetables, that way it wouldn’t take so long and it’d still be a pretty good dinner. you cleaned your hands and started cooking, seasoning the meat well before tossing it in the pan. you started the vegetables next, and then you washed your hands before grabbing your phone and turning on your favorite playlist to jam while you cooked.
joe arrived home exactly on time, and as he walked through the door you saw him look over at your set-up in the den, giving it a side-eyed glance.
he walked into the kitchen where you were and immediately wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into him and pressing his lips to your forehead. you laid the spatula you were holding down and then wrapped your arms around joe’s torso for a tight hug.
“dinner looks and smells great.” he says. he sounds tired, but he doesn’t seem to be in a bad mood. you’ll take that as a win.
“go ahead and sit down. i’ll make you and plate and then we can eat and after you shower maybe we can watch a movie or two.” you say, knowing that’s not what you want him to do.
joe sits at the dining table, his gaze fixed on you. “i showered before i left, so… i’m good.” you bring his plate and yours to the table before grabbing drinks for yourselves.
he thanks you as you hand over his silverware and starts eating immediately, as do you. you don’t do much talking during dinner, but you never really do. a comfortable silence settles over the room, and you and joe both are content being near each other.
he helps you clean a bit when you’re done eating and then he heads into the den with you on his heels. he side-eyes the presents and wrapping paper again.
“do you have some elaborate plan to get me to help you wrap these or something? tryin’ to butter me up with dinner?” he asks, turning to face you. he pulls you into him again and runs a hand through your hair as he smirks down at you.
“it’s not gonna work, i’m not helping you wrap these.”
he’s still smirking as he speaks to you again. fine, time to bring out the big guns.
“that’s fine. just sit down on the couch and pick a movie. i’ll start wrapping.”
joe sits on the couch and you sit on the floor. you keep your eyes trained on him as he scrolls through the endless holiday movie selection before settling on a mutual favorite, the santa clause.
“this good?” he asks, his eyes still focused on the screen. “perfect.” you answer. you take a small present and a roll of the paper and carefully measure it before cutting. you wrap it up nicely and add a little bow to it, along with writing the recipient’s name in cursive on the top. joe gives you a little glance, but he doesn’t move to help you and he doesn’t say anything.
“ugh. it’s hot in here.” you complain, pretending to be warm. you fan yourself dramatically with your hand. joe looks over at you puzzled. “it feels pretty good to me, you’re hot?”
“burning up actually. i’m just gonna…” you start, your fingers tracing the hem of your shirt. joe stares at you, eager to see what you’re about to do. you lift the shirt over your head in a fluid motion, tossing it in the corner. his eyes nearly pop out of his head.
you lock your gaze with his and he licks his lips before speaking, his voice almost coming out as a croak. “is-is that new?” he asks, leaning forward. his feet are now on the floor rather than propped on the couch, and his elbows rest on his thighs, just above the knee.
you’re still sitting cross-legged on the floor facing him, but you lean back and hold your weight on your hands behind you, giving joe the full view of the lacy red bra and what it’s doing for your cleavage as you toss your hair over your shoulder. he can’t resist, he comes down off the couch and leans over you, taking one of your breasts in his hand while attaching his lips to your neck.
“ah-ah.” you tut, pushing him off. “you only get to unwrap me and the rest of my pretty paper if you help me wrap these gifts.” he rolls his neck and moans as he leans back, the noise sending a thrill straight through your core.
“there’s more? it’s a whole set?” he asks, making no effort to hide the fact that his gaze was lingering on your barely covered chest. “it’s a set.” you say, smiling to yourself.
you knew this would work. now, was bribery okay? not always. but if it meant you got help wrapping these presents AND to fuck your husband afterward… it seemed like it could be okay, just this once.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
joe was wrapping presents like a mad man. they all looked pristine, too. it figured that he’d be great at wrapping presents considering his whole job mostly revolved around his hands, but you were impressed.
once you promised him he’d get to unwrap his present after this, he wouldn’t stop wrapping them as fast as he could and handing them off to you for labels and bows. there were two gifts left to do and you each took one, cutting your paper and taping them up all nice and neat. you placed them into the neat stack and let out a contented sigh before looking back at joe. he was smirking, but you knew he was playing cool. that hard tough exterior was ready to crack any moment.
you stood from the floor, stretching out your limbs, your arms held up over your head. “goddamn.” you heard joe mutter. your fingertips slipped into the waistband of your sweats, pulling them down your legs quickly. you stepped out of them as you stood exposed in front of joe. his mouth hung open as he took in the sight of you, your lacy red lingerie set and thigh high stockings.
“this is the best present i’ve ever received in my life.”
“wanna unwrap me?” you tease, stepping closer to him. you grab his right hand and place it on your breast before grabbing his left and placing it right on your ass. “fuck.” he moans, bringing his lips back to your neck. his tongue leaves a hot, wet trail along the column of your throat as his hands knead your breast and ass, and your hands tug at his hair as you softly moan at the pleasure.
joe breaks away from kissing you to grab your hand and lead you down the hall to your shared bedroom. once inside he starts shedding his clothes quickly, and although it’s not the sexiest way to go about it, you’re still ready to jump his bones. you can see his cock straining in his boxers as you step toward him again. you trace your fingertips along the waistband and he shudders.
you pull his boxers down quickly and fall to your knees in front of him, lightly wrapping your hand around his cock. slowly, you lean forward, taking the tip into your mouth and giving it a small suck. you pull off and trace your tongue along the line of his cock before taking it fully back into your mouth and bobbing your head.
what you can’t fit into your mouth you work with your hand, and joe’s fingers dig into your scalp as he tugs at your hair. you look up at him through your lashes and you moan, sending the vibrations straight through his length.
joe pulls you off and helps you stand, guiding you toward the bed quickly. you get up and lie on your back, watching joe as he stalks toward you like predator to prey. he crawls over you on the bed and unfastens the garter from your stockings so he can pull the thong off you, and he tosses it to the floor.
you spread your legs for him confidently, showing off your glistening folds and the wetness that has spread to your thighs. joe moans again, leaning forward. “you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, you know that?” he asks before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your clit.
your response back is a moan, and you instinctively want to close your thighs around joe’s head, but he holds them open with his large hands. he licks a long languid stripe up your core, licking and slurping as he devours you wholly. his mouth teases you all over, licking and sucking you as you grip the bedsheets with white knuckles.
after what seems like forever he stops, and you whine from the loss of contact as he crawls up your body. you look down and you can see that he’s still rock hard, his cock red and angry.
“that’s enough, princess. i gotta fuck you now.”
“please, joe.” you beg, scratching your nails down his back. his large hands grip your hips and roll you over, and you arch your back as his hands pull your hips into the air. he teases you with the tip for a few seconds before sliding into you fully.
“fuuuuuuuuuuck.” you draw out, your hands fisting the sheets again. joe stays still, but his large right hand comes down hard on your ass, a loud crack sounding through the room. you hiss at the contact and squeeze around him.
joe pulls back fully before gripping your hips and slamming into you again, his pace immediately rough. your moans and cries reverberate through the room as joe slams his hips into you. he watches your ass bounce against him as he fucks you from behind, the sight enough to make him cum almost immediately.
your fingers find your clit as joe continues fucking you, and you rub tight circles over it as joe works you to the edge. “i’m close, joey.” you warn, and he smacks your ass again as he nails you with a particularly hard thrust. that’s all it takes to send you toppling over the edge, your orgasm rushing over your body, heating your skin as if you’d been soaked in hot water or coated in hot wax.
joe cums soon after, you can feel the hot white strands painting your insides as his fingers bruise your hips from their strong grip. he pulls out and you wince, rolling over as you watch him plop down next to you. neither of you say a word for a few minutes, you need to catch your breath. your eyes are heavy, but joe makes a sudden movement that startles you.
he goes back down to the foot of the bed, positioning himself between your legs again as he begins to pull off one of your stockings.
“what’re you doing?” you ask him, his mouth trailing slow kisses up your ankle and calf. “look at all this stuff you’re still wearing,” he says, planting a kiss to your inner thigh. “i only got your panties off.”
his eyes rake over your heat again as he watches his cum drip from your swollen cunt. “i’m not anywhere close to finished unwrapping you yet.”
photos and dividers used are not mine. all cred to owners.
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Till Dawn || Eyeless Jack || part two
SMUT 18+, tw: unrealistic demon sex (sorry not sorry, MASSIVE breeding kink, mentions of eating organs (duh, it’s ej), some blood but nothing too crazy, size kink, all the things you’d expect from a fic with ej tbh
part three is here
EJ avoided you like you had the black plague.
It’s not because he wanted to, not by any means.
In a perfect world he would be tangled in your bed sheets right now, not standing in his bedroom at the mansion.
One hand was keeping him steady from falling over, his hair sticking to his forehead from sweat. His breathing was jagged, from trying to ignore what he knew to be happening.
He tried to avoid the overwhelming feeling, the craving.
Because EJ knew without a shade of a doubt, he was in heat.
EJ’s heats came once a year, right around the beginning of summer. The first time it happened he thought he might explode, his urges almost landing him with a knife in his hand.
(Note to self: don’t try to fuck Jane).
The second summer he as more adjusted, the third even more so. He had grown accustomed of what was going to happen, to the extent where the members of mansion set up precautions for him.
Typically he would stock up on food, then lock himself into his medical lab as if he were a rabid dog.
The slightest movement or sound could make him go feral, the demon unable to control himself.
Every year this had worked, his heat dying down after about maybe a month.
But this year, was different. All because of you.
In previous years he had never had a mate, nor had he truly considered getting one. He thought humans to be too fragile. Not to mention the fact he didn’t know if it was scientifically possible to procreate with one. Which was exactly what his body was screaming at him to do.
You invaded every inch of his mind, his heat refusing to subside for even five minutes to allow him some peace.
EJ knew that if he were to allow himself to enter your town, it would be game over.
That he would be buried inside of you in mere minutes, not caring where you were. If everyone had to see him mate with you, so fucking be it. Logically, however, EJ knew these thoughts were absurd and insane. If he was going to ever see you again, he could not allow himself to see you during his heat.
Yet, he knew where you lived. He knew your schedule like the back of his hand. When you’d be at work, when you’d be at the gym, when you’d be home. In bed. Curled up into an adorable, fuckable ball. The thought sent a shiver down his spine.
A knock on the laboratory door snapped him out of his thoughts, the demon trudging towards the door. He unlocked it, staring down at his fellow resident, Jeff the killer. “Hey fuckface, Ben told me you were running low on food. Consider this a favor,” He said dryly. He held up a brown paper bag, oozing with blood and other unidentified bodily liquids. With one sniff EJ knew that inside of the bag was a heart. Not his favorite, but it’d do.
EJ lifted his arm slowly to grab it from him, muttering a thank you. He acted as if he were afraid to hurt Jeff, unsure of what he would do if the two interacted any way out of the ordinary. “Fuck dude, you don’t look good,” Jeff commented. Jacks hand flew to his face, realizing his mask had been discarded during one of his meltdowns. Out of instinct Jack bared his teeth, a low growl rumbling in his throat. His pale roommate raised his hands, signaling he didn’t mean harm.
“Not trying to get your panties in a wad, you just look worse for some reason this year,” Jeff explained. Truthfully his dark gray skin did look paler, his hair ruffled and sticking to his forehead from sweat. The last person on the face of this planet Jack wanted to admitted this to stood right in front of him. “There’s a girl,” Jack managed to huff out, his voice several octaves deeper then normal.
Jeff’s permanent smile curled even further upwards, producing a genuine one. “Well i’ll be damned, my Jacky boy has finally found a woman. Did you lose your v card yet?” Jeff asked. EJ would’ve rolled his eyes if he had them.
“Jeff.”
“Okay okay alright, well you’re in heat right? Why don’t you go see her?” The pale killer questioned. Millions of scenarios ran through EJ’s head, almost all of them ending with your organs in his hands. It wasn’t just breaking you that he was afraid of, but it was the unavoidable hunger that washed over him after fulfilling his filthy desires. “Human,” EJ managed to choke out, his mouth running dry. The word was something that his fellow residents cringed at, Jeff’s eyes going wide.
“Demon boy is entangled with a human? I must be in the twilight zone,” Jeff muttered. Out of all of the residents in the mansion, Jack was the most likely to break a humans bone by mistake. His strength was incomprehensible, EJ unaware of how harsh his touch could be. Jeff eyed his roommate carefully, evaluating his condition. He usually didn’t care to get involved in Jacks life, the demon preferring to live solo.
Yet, it was disheartening even for him to see EJ like this.
“Look there’s no point in wallowing in misery. There’s no guarantee you’d kill her,” Jeff said. His attempt to comfort EJ was poor, one that made Jack furrow his eyebrows. “Your heat is going to be fucking miserable if you don’t at least try dude, don’t be a pussy,” He stated bluntly. EJ furrowed his eyebrows, before nodding. He had to know. Could he control himself? Would you have him?
He could do it. He could find the will to focus on the lust and not the hunger. He could do it. For you.
EJ huffed in response, grabbing his shirt from a nearby dresser. Jeff put a hand up, stopping the demon in his tracks.
“Dude, take a shower.”
\/
Jack couldn’t get to you fast enough. He took several shortcuts to your house, even venturing as far as to run across several popular roads. He had to see you, to feel you. His body was engulfed in open flames, yours being the only way tame the fire. By the time he got to your house he was out of breath, unsure of how to approach you.
Faintly he could hear your heartbeat, the noise alone making him swallow. He had eaten the gift Jeff had given him before he left, ensuring to scrub every last bit of his mouth with a toothbrush once he was done. But the hunger that haunted EJ needed more than just an organ to be satisfied. Questions circled his mind, unsure of how to approach you. Should he knock on the door? Break in?
His gaze landed on the tree he had previously climbed, the large branch still conveniently in front of your window. Jack decided on the old fashioned way, climbing up the old oak tree. He got an odd sense of deja vu, warmth spreading through out his body at the sight of you. You were in bed, reading a book beside your nightstand lamp. You looked so peaceful, your attention completely engulfed.
EJ considered leaving, letting you continue your peaceful human life. That was, until he realized you were wearing his hoodie. Your legs were curled to the side, your chest concealed by the familiar cotton EJ wore everyday. Maybe it was for comfort? No, you missed him. You needed him. Maybe as badly as he needed you. It was in that moment he decided to be selfish, knocking on the glass.
Your eyes darted up, brightening at the sight of the demon crouching in front of your window. You tossed your book aside, running over to let him in. Your legs were bare, your soft skin exposed to him. There you stood, completely exposed to a six foot demon. And you dared to smile.
“Jack?”
EJ struggled to form any words, slipping into your room. He knew his presence alone was incredibly selfish. You were so small, his body towering over you without even trying. Your eyebrows furrowed, your head tilting to the side. “Jack? Are you okay?” You asked, your voice sounding so small. So soft. EJ couldn’t barely find it in himself to look at you, afraid of the urges that soared through his body.
“I’m in heat,” He managed to say, his voice sounding strained. You hesitantly grabbed his hand, guiding him to the bed. EJ sat down on the edge, purposefully holding his gaze to the floor. You sat down beside him, studying his intense posture. He was breathing deeply, veins poking out of his arms. “You’re… In heat? Like an animal?” You asked, seeking clarification. EJ nodded nervously, ashamed of the lewd confession.
It was as if he had never fucked you, with how embarrassed he felt.
“Okay so, what does that mean, um, exactly?”
Your words were so innocent.
He had to see your face.
He had to admire you.
From the moment he lifted his head, he was on you. In a swift motion he had pinned you to the bed, hovering over you. You smelled so fucking good, it was practically intoxicating. “I can’t control myself, I, I mean, I need-” EJ panted, struggling to find the words to explain his situation. He hadn’t needed to explain his heats to anyone in years, nevertheless a human girl. “You need to fuck something, right? And to cum?” You questioned.
Jack swallowed hard, your legs on either side of his waist. He could practically feel your core throbbing for him, his shaft growing harder in his pants. The sensation made him let out a low growl, before trying to swallow the sounds back down his throat. You had the gist of it, but he didn’t think you truly understood the danger you were in.
“I need to breed,” Jack stated, emphasizing the last word. Your small fingers curled under his mask, lifting it and tossing it aside. Your fingertips traced his jawline, the simple affection making his heart begin to race.
“So breed me then.”
Your words had sealed your fate.
His mouth was on your lips before you could process it, the tension growing hot and heavy within seconds. Jacks large hands trailed up your body, shoving your hoodie over your head. Your bare chest was exposed to him, your nipples hardening exposed to the cool night air. “No bra? You filthy bitch,” EJ grumbled. His lips strayed from yours, his body desperate for release. He tried to remember to be careful with you, to take the time to stretch you out.
He barely fit the first time, nevertheless if he didn’t take the time to do some foreplay. EJ didn’t want to hurt you, even if it meant putting himself through agony. His lips strayed to your neck, sucking harshly at the skin. He had to make a conscious effort to not bite, his teeth grazing your skin ever so slightly. He ensured to avoid any crucial arteries, just in case he cut skin. You whined under him, the smell of your arousal filling his nostrils. But as Jack inhaled, he smelled something else familiar.
“J-Jack?” You whispered, the warm feeling of blood trickling down your neck alerting you. Jack leaned back, taking in the damage. It was a thin line of blood, the crimson red paint staining your soft skin. He swallowed as he leaned back, panting. “No we can’t do this, i’m going to lose control,” He said, speaking a full sentence for the first time in weeks. Jack backed away from you, panting as his boner continued to rage on.
The smell of your arousal, fear, and blood, was enough to make EJ hump a pillow to get off. He put his hand over his face, covering his nose. “What? Jack i’m fine,” You argued. The demon shook his head no, trying to restrain himself. The blood dripped down your neck onto your collarbone, the sight alone mouthwatering. He pressed his back flat against the wall, shaking his head no. You didn’t have any idea how badly he wanted you. The fact that you didn’t only made the situation more dangerous. You placed your hand over your small cut, the wound evident that EJ wasn’t careful enough with you.
“I can handle it, just-” You began. You struggled to find the right words, to convince him to take you. To breed you right there and then. “Just clean it,” You say, unsure if you even said the right thing. EJ’s eyebrows raised curiously, his prey asking him to clean her wound. “Are you sure?” Jack said, his words almost entirely muffled by his hand. You yanked away his wrist, forcing him to fully inhale the overwhelming scent of your blood.
“What did you say?”
Jack licked his lips, tilting his head to the side.
“I said, are you sure?”
You removed your blood stained hand from your wound, nodding.
“I can take it, whatever you give me.”
Fuck.
In the blink of an eye EJ flipped positions, your back being shoved against the wall behind you. His three tongues emerging from his lips. They assaulted your neck, lapping at the wound. He refused to let any drop of your precious blood go to waste. Once he was done cleaning your neck his focus shifted to your hand, licking your palm clean.
“I forgot you had three tongues,” You admitted. Your words reminded EJ of what was happening. That you weren’t a meal, but his mate. Jack allowed himself to smile, chuckling. “Yeah? Do you remember what they feel like?” He asked curiously. Playing along, you shrugged. “I don’t think so, maybe you’ll just have to remind me,” You replied.
Jack had never sank to his knees quicker.
He ripped your panties in half, discarding the fabric across the room. He nudged your knees apart, forcing you to lean against the wall for support. You were practically dripping, the sight only fueling Jacks heat even more. “It’s taking everything in me to take my time with you, little human,” Jack panted. He brought himself to your cunt, his three tongues finally making a grand appearance. Two of them decided to enter you, your walls spasming under the odd sensation. The third stayed focused on your clit, flicking your sensitive bud as if his life depended on it.
EJ’s hand held your legs harshly. As your legs began to tremble, you slowly began to lose your balance. He took this opportunity to pick you up, holding your legs in his arms as his tongues abused your cunt. Your hands tugged at his hair as he held you in mid air, your thighs trembling in his hands. Each tug you pulled only made him fuck into you rougher, his tongues almost seemingly having a mind of their own. “Fuck- right there, please, right fucking there,” You pleaded, your sinful pleas bouncing throughout the hollow house.
With one final flick of your cunt you came on his tongues, each of them lapping up your juices with pride. Jack needed more, he needed something, anything, to prevent him from fucking you on the floor. “On your knees, now,” He growled as he set you down. With how wobbly your legs were you nearly fell anyways, landing on your knees on the hard wooden floor. EJ felt as hot as a heater, his skin radiating unnatural warmth. You stuck out your tongue, maintaining his gaze as he unbuckled his pants.
“You filthy filthy girl,” EJ muttered. He mockingly traced your jawline, shoving his pants and boxers down to his ankles. You had almost forgotten how large his cock was, his length alone enough to break you. “Awe, what’s wrong? Am I bigger than the human boys you play with?” Jack asked teasingly. He tapped the head of his cock against your tongue, shuddering at the warmth of your mouth.
You took his tip in stride, swirling your tongue around it as the demon before you groaned. EJ began shoving his cock into your mouth further, his tip scraping the back of your throat.
He wasn’t even in half way yet.
“You may want to loosen your jaw,” EJ recommended. How far could the human jaw physically extend? You forced your jaw to go slack, struggling to accommodate to Jacks girth as he pushed himself in further. Jack gritted his teeth out of frustration, fuck, this wasn’t fucking working.
Fuck it.
Fuck this.
His large hand snaked down to your hair, yanking you off of him. He dragged you onto your feet with ease, as if you were as light as a feather. “I changed my mind, I want you now,” Jack mumbled. He roughly brought his lips to yours, dragging you back over to the bed. The only thing he needed in the world right now were your ankles dangling over his shoulders. You were struggling to keep up, your heartbeat racing faster and faster.
The sound made Jack’s ears twitch, his desire to fuck you the only thing that kept him from tearing you apart.
“Jack?”
You stared up at him curiously, EJ realizing he was staring at you blankly.
The demon swallowed, trying to hold himself back. His body was practically vibrating, every fiber in him screaming to breed your pretty little cunt, then to swallow your organs whole. Starting with your precious heart. You didn’t know what he ate, right? Or did you? EJ began to rack his brain, his mind spinning. Were you afraid? You didn’t smell afraid. But to be fair though, all Jack could smell was your arousal.
“Jack?”
Your concern made him snap out of his haze, the realization that he was oddly panting above you hitting him like a brick. He licked his dry lips, trying to form coherent sentences. “You don’t want this, you don’t want to be my mate. You-” Jack began. He knew what it would be mean if he did what he wanted, what every fiber in his being was screaming at him to do. “Deserve a nice human life, with a human man,” He rambled.
Your next action caught him off guard, it being something he hadn’t even fantasized about. It was so shocking to Jack, that he hadn’t even theorized it to be possible. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you dragged him down to you, planting your lips onto his. As you kissed him, your small hand reached down to his throbbing cock, running the tip up and down your folds. EJ growled as he pushed you down against the mattress.
“You’ve done it now,” He snarled. EJ swatted your hand away, pumping his length. Teasingly he brushed the head of his cock against your clit, the overstimulation making you squirm. Jack tried his hardest to be slow once he entered you. Honest. But your walls sucked him in your body screaming that you were almost as desperate as he was. This. This was what he had imaged all of those sleepless nights as he pumped his cock, daydreaming of the disgusting things he’d do to you.
And here you were, withering under him as he shoved his cock inside of your cunt. “Such a good whore for me, such a good hole for me to use,” EJ grunted. He could feel his mind going numb, his ability to maintain composure fading away as he bottomed out. He could feel your walls squeezing him, begging him to let you adjust. His cock was visible through your stomach, the outline only fueling the fire further.
“So sorry, I can’t hold back any longer- Have to- Need to breed you,” Jack panted, moving his hips. You bit your bottom lip as he began to fuck you, the pain almost too much. You had taken him before, sure, but he wasn’t this rough with you. He let out low growls as he fucked you, the pain slowly subsiding into pleasure. Jack couldn’t help but nuzzle himself into the side of your neck, inhaling your scent.
Your hands had grabbed his hair, tugging at it as he mercilessly pounded into you. Your moans were mixtures of pleas and incoherent babbles, his name mixed in there somewhere. You couldn’t think straight, Jacks hips having a mind of their own. “Fuck, i’m gonna breed you, you’re going to be mine,” Jack huffed. He licked the side of your neck, the sweat coating your skin flooding his tastebuds.
He could hear your heartbeat speed up even faster, your body struggling to keep up with Jack as he fucked you. “You’re gonna be my mate, you understand? My personal cumdump,” He snarled. The degrading words were the most he had spoken in weeks, his mind screaming at him to cum inside of you. He needed it like he needed air. He needed to see your cunt red and puffy, leaking his cum.
EJ managed to leave the comfort of your neck, watching the outline of his cock slide in and out of you as he abused your cervix. “You’re gonna be such a good mother, gonna take you back to the mansion,” Jack groaned, his words slipping out mindlessly. He grabbed your legs, forcing them to spread wider. You whined as he grabbed your tender flesh, pounding into you. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“You’re mine, my mate to breed, you’re gonna carry my kids, over and over and over,” EJ growled. You could feel yourself getting close, your eyes practically seeing stars. “J-Jack, i’m getting close-” You warned. Jack grinned, his thrust not letting up for a second. “Go on mate, cum for me so I can mark you as mine,” EJ ordered, his words almost muffled by his animalistic growls. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you came, your orgasm only making Jack fuck you harder.
He grabbed your limp body, pounding into you through your orgasm until he found his own high. Loud moans exited his throat as he came inside of you, your cunt now full of the demons sperm. He panted as his heart rate began to settle, his stomach beginning to growl. His eye sockets widened as he realized he could still hear your heartbeat, the sound coming back into focus. He swallowed, your smell making his desire shift to raw hunger.
Jack pulled out of you quickly, relieved to see that you were relatively dazed. Your eyes were closed, your focus on slowing your body back down to normal. As calmly as he could he slid off of the bed, redressing himself. He knew if he alerted you he would owe you an explanation. It would put him at a dangerous crossroad. He would either have to tell the brutal truth, or a painful lie that would no doubt put your relationship in jeopardy.
EJ grabbed his mask, sliding back onto his face as he pulled down the sleeves of his hoodie. He watched his cum ooze out of your cunt and onto the sheets, the sight almost enough to overrule his painful hunger.
Almost.
Jack slipped out of your window quickly, running to the next heartbeat he could hear.
An odd satisfaction washed over him as he ran into the night, knowing you were now his.
#eyeless jack x y/n#eyeless jack x you#eyeless jack smut#eyeless jack x reader#jeff the killer x eyeless jack#eyeless jack x jeff the killer#eyeless jack#creepypasta x y/n#creepypasta x female reader#creepypasta x you#creepypasta lemon#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta smut#creepypasta
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Breaking Point
Pairing: Sylus x MC / fem!reader Rating: Explicit | 18+ Tags: angry sylus, playful struggling, teasing, dirty talk, smut, fingering, mc/reader is a brat, punishment, overstimulation if you squint Summary: You had almost cost Sylus something important tonight and for once, he's pissed. Word Count: 1.3k
The door to Onychinus’s base had barely clicked shut behind you before Sylus has you hoisted over his shoulder, his long strides taking you swiftly down the hallway towards his bedroom. Your heart flip flops uneasily in your stomach when you realize where he’s headed, and you start to struggle in earnest. His demeanor had completely changed the moment you arrived home, though the walk there had been more tense than usual.
“Wha- hey! Sylus, put me down!” You’re suddenly squirming in his grip, your fists drumming uselessly against his back and you lose a heel in the process; the forgotten ornament left behind on the floor. You only stop fighting when his hand slides under the slit in your dress to keep you from falling, and you forget how to breathe as you feel the heat of it between your thighs. Infuriatingly, Sylus hasn’t said a single word and it starts to sink in that you might have gone too far earlier tonight.
It had started out as a simple game under the table at some business dinner he had made you go to. You were bored and he looked so good sitting across from you, but he wasn’t giving you any attention at all. Instead, he was talking to some other woman who kept touching him with increasingly lingering touches that made you reconsider what the definition of assault was. Worse, Sylus seemed to preen under her attention, his honeyed smile blinding in the soft ambience of the room. Jealousy had begun to eat at you and you were half-convinced he was doing it on purpose, but then you had the perfect idea of how to get back at him.
It was time for you to play a little game of your own, kicking off your heel discreetly under the table and running your stocking covered foot underneath the tailored leg of his pants. He managed to keep his composure, his slight flinch of surprise only noticeable to you. When he turned to look at you you were already engaged in conversation with one of your own dinner mates, pretending to be oblivious. His eyes narrowed as your foot slid higher with every pass, coming dangerously close to a part of him that was quickly becoming uncooperative despite the ugly hag he was attempting to extract intel from.
You had almost ruined it all and for once, Sylus was angry.
He dumps you unceremoniously onto the bed and you try to scramble away but he’s on you faster than you can move. He captures and stretches your wrists over your head easily with one hand, his knee sliding between your thighs as he pushes you into the soft mattress. He slides between your thighs and his hips press against yours, trapping you. The warmth of his anger is radiating off him and you can feel how hot and hard he is despite how angry he looks. Had your antics earlier really affected him that much?
You whine and futilely struggle against him until he looms over you and quells your struggles with a piercing gaze.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” His voice was low and dangerous, making you tense with anticipated dread. Oh, Sylus was furious. Still, you’d gone this far, you weren’t going to back down now.
“Only that I didn’t finish the job.” You jut your lower lip out petulantly and his scoff is pure exasperation.
“Fiesty, kitten.” He almost smiles, but then he’s serious again.
“Did you really think I would enjoy the attention of that woman with you sitting across from me?” You refused to look at him and stared at the canopy above his bed, but nodded. “Really?” He murmured, a soft hint of incredulity creeping into his voice. The movement of him sliding against your core left you both gasping as the friction made you dizzy with need.
“You’re the only one who does this to me.” He leans closer and draws your gaze to his, his lips inches from yours. “Only you.”
He doesn’t kiss you. You haven’t earned that and Sylus won’t reward you for your bad behavior, so his lips skate along your jaw and down your throat, sending a shiver down your spine. Sylus will have you a begging, needy mess by the end of the night and you know it, suddenly a little nervous.
“I’m sorry,” you blurted out quietly, but his derisive chuckle against your pulse told you it was too late for an apology–or too soon. His words confirmed it, his hot breath fanning across your skin.
“Try being more sincere, and I might consider forgiving you sweetie.” The pet name drips condescension and you want to smack him, instantly regretting your words. You feel the punishing set of teeth against your throat with a sharp suddenness that leaves you gasping. Your back arches into him as your hands curl around the one that has you pinned, your nails digging into his skin. His mouth felt so good against your frantic pulse and you felt a little dizzy as he soothes the fresh imprint of his teeth with his lips. He peppers your throat in kisses and deliciously teasing love bites, taking his time until you’re writhing underneath him and softly pleading for him to touch you more.
He loves seeing you like this, flushed and wanting, eager for him to do whatever he wants to you. He’s ready to explode from all of the teasing from earlier and he grinds his hips roughly against yours, chuckling softly against your collarbone when you curse him between your gasps of pleasure. It’s been a long time since he's had you underneath him like this and Sylus isn’t known for being patient. But for you? He’d wait for a lifetime. In some lifetimes, he had.
However, tonight you need to be taught a lesson about what happens when you tease him too much and jeopardize his meeting. He almost lost valuable intel tonight, something important enough that if he had fumbled in obtaining it, a lot of people could’ve died; including you.
His free hand slides between your bodies and he’s satisfied to find the front of your panties soaked. His fingers toy with the lacy edge and he has a thoughtful look on his face.
“Sylus, please.” You whine, brushing yourself against his knuckles shamelessly. It makes Sylus chuckle and he pushes them aside, his fingers gliding over your slick folds. One digit dips between them to glide over your clit and it’s agony. Before you can beg, Sylus slides two fingers deep inside of you and curls them over that sensitive spot he knows so well. He brings you to orgasm with a quickness that has your back bowed off the bed, his skillful fingers wringing the pleasure from your body. He does it again without letting you recover and you weakly ask him to wait, pushing against his hand that trapped your own.
“Wait, please–”
He withdraws his fingers and they glisten with proof of how much Sylus affected you, strands of your arousal clinging obscenely to them. His eyes never leave yours as he slides them into his mouth to taste you, his gaze heavy lidded with desire. He pulls them past his lips with a wet pop and his lips brush your ear, his breath fanning against your heated skin.
“Why? They went in so easily, kitten.” He purred into your ear. “Did you want it that much? I would’ve given it to you, you know.” He pushes a few strands of hair out sticking to your face and strokes soft fingertips along your temple and jaw. “All you had to do was ask, but you continue to insist on being stubborn.” He leans back and his lips twist into a sour expression. You know you’re in trouble and you want to take it back, but you also know conceding now will make the consequences worse. Sylus would prey on any weakness you showed now, and you could see it in the way he stared down at you. His smirk was dangerous and you whimpered.
“We’ll see how long that lasts.”
#sylus x reader#sylus x mc#lads sylus#sylus#lnds sylus#l&ds sylus#sylus x you#love and deepspace sylus#sylus love and deepspace#love and deepspace#my writing#sylus fic#sylus fanfiction#lads x you#no beta don't come for me#smut#sylus smut#lads smut#love and deepspace smut
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Me before completing the forest temple: okay I get that ocarina of time is fun and nostalgic for people but it’s a bit of a stretch to call it one of the greatest video games of all time
Me after completing the forest temple: By revealing that Link is not a Kokiri, but a Hylian, the game effectively strips him of his humble origins amongst a group of people that already fail to recognize him in his adult form. Thus, kokiri village instantly becomes a location that is no longer Link’s home in any sense, exacerbated by the fact that the game now loads up in the temple of time instead of Link’s bedroom— he is a stranger in the only place that has ever been familiar to him and he is depressingly reduced to his destiny alone. However, the subsequent introduction of the time travel mechanic, which allows the player to travel from the horrific apocalyptic future back to the idyllic past of Link’s childhood, gives new meaning to the idea of this “destiny”. In effect, Link is not a stock “chosen one”, but a protagonist who consciously decides to fight onwards. Link’s dual existence as a child who knows the grim future and as an adult who was powerless to stop disaster gives a sort of desperation to his character, because while it brings the player relief to revisit the Castle Town that is populated by cheerful villagers instead of lurking zombies, the story can only be progressed through the acknowledgement of reality — the decision to make those seven years pass again. Therefore, both the player and Link as a character must be proactive in their heroism and make the conscious choice to struggle onwards despite the darkness that permeates—
#veesaysthings#ocarina of time#fantasy story: yeah the protagonist can never go home again. Me: OH MY GOD THEY CAN NEVER GO HOME AGAIN#Im dearly sorry for all the Zelda posts#I’m getting my shit rocked by ocarina for real#(no spoilers I literally JUST got to this point in the game)#thank you so much to my friend who is forcing me to play this#I will cry at all the temples though bc I am so awful at puzzles pls I am so dumb
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Closer to Dad pt 2
Part 1 found here
I can’t believe it, I’m uncle Rob! I was still getting used to being a solid 50 pounds heavier, probably even more to be honest. When I dressed up as Rob, I had chosen one of his older football jerseys to feel his stomach pressed against his beefy belly. Each step I took I could feel the fabric stretch to accommodate my new form. I patted it, feeling the jiggle ripple through the rest of my abdomen. This was going to be a fun day.
Normally it would have taken me about 15 minutes to get from Rob’s house back to mine, but with my new longer legs, and the amount of excitement built in, I made it in half the time. Stepping up to the front door, my heart was racing in anticipation. I haven’t spent real quality time with my dad in what felt likes years. To go from being the scrawny son he essentially ignored, to becoming his best friend and brother, was a dramatic shift. However, I let out a long breath of air and pounded on the door with my strong fist.
Dad, I guess I should refer to him by his first name now, Mike, opened the door and looked at me inquisitively. He wasn’t even wearing his usual jersey, just a green t shirt and jeans, his hair messy, with the locks shining in the golden sunlight.
“Rob? What are you doing knocking on the door? You haven’t done anything but stroll in like a bastard for years”. Shit, of course I should have just walked in. Rob’s been coming over to our place for years now to hang out with my dad. I chuckled to try and cover.
“What and not take you up on opening the door for me? Fat chance,” I told him with my best uncle Rob impersonation. He rolled his eyes and ushered me in. I think I can still play this off. Coming into my home as Rob made it feel like a brand new experience, like I was stepping foot for the first time. Though that may just be because I’m about a foot taller and my perception has greatly shifted at this new height.
“You want a beer?” Mike asked, closing the door behind me.
“It can’t even be 8 am,” I told him without a second thought. His eyebrow raised again.
“What took you so long to ask?” I asked him back. He scoffed and wandered off to the kitchen. My heart would not slow down. I can make a couple of recoveries, but what am I supposed to do when he actually starts talking about football? Mike came back, and tossed me an unopened can. I popped the tab and took a swing, almost spitting it right back out. Fuck me, that’s what beer tastes like? At the tender age of 20, I was just shy of getting myself any alcohol of my own. Though also, at the tender heart, I was too chicken to sneak one of my dad’s to try before today.
Thankfully Mike had his back turned to me, otherwise he surely would have seen me grimace from the taste.
“So, game’s not for another hour,” he said, coming back from the kitchen again, this time holding the entire box full of beers. Oh god do I have to drink all of those? I can’t even stomach one.
“How about you make your lazy ass of some use and help me stock the fridge? Especially since you didn’t bring any of your own,” he continued. Was I supposed to bring something? I’m clearly an awful guest. I followed him downstairs to his man cave, one which I rarely stepped foot in.
It was what one would expect of a middle aged man who was obsessed with football. A once plush couch now worn out from years of ass being met with it, a small beer fridge along the side, massive flat screen tv along the back wall. If you pick up a copy of “Man Caves for Dummies”, you’d find this on chapter one. Mike shoved the box of beers at me and I waddled off to the fridge to stock up. Not like there was much space anyways, he always kept it pretty filled.
As I was finishing up the bottom level of the fridge, I felt a hard smack against my ass, almost causing me to shove my whole head into the fridge.
“Hurry up slowpoke, I wanna get these chilled before the game starts,” Mike said, pulling another beer out of the top shelf. He already finished the first one? I was too distracted to even drink mine, now so aroused at my ass getting smacked, and being ordered around by my dad. Don’t get me wrong, I was used to him ordering me around before, but this time it was playful. It didn’t help that my new cock was pressed against the silky material of my jockstrap, hidden under Rob’s set of Wranglers. I was chubbed up since I came in his body earlier today, but the touch of Mike, and the material sliding against it, made me rock hard.
I adjusted my pants to help try and mitigate how much of my cock showed and closed the fridge door behind me.
“Just giving you time to remember how I got the good ass genes from dad,” I told him. I turned and shook my ass at him, smacking it myself. Fuck Rob’s butt really kept up some perk since his old military days.
“Please, the only thing you got from dad was a bad back and a receding hairline,” he said, chuckling to himself. He took a swig out of his beer and I decided to mirror him. This time, I knew what to expect and choked down the ale with less effort. This actually wasn’t too bad after a while. He reclined back on the couch and kicked his feet up on the corner L of the sofa. He was wearing his basketball shorts and his calves were showing. I never looked at my father in a suggestive way from the implication alone, but I wasn’t me right now. Even as his brother it felt like I was somebody entirely different.
I could admire how strong his legs looked, especially when he stretched one of them out to pop his knee. The shorts rode up and a brief glimpse of his thigh bared itself to me. This didn’t help my need to hide my raging boner at all. He turned his attention from the TV and looked at me.
“What are you waiting for? Permission?” He asked. I sat on the opposite end of the couch from him. We had an hour until the game, and I immensely regretted not doing more research before I took over Rob. Mike tried to engage with me about the team, sports, players, and I did my best to rebut against them with jokes and more general comments. He definitely knew something was up though. I drank through the whole thing, feeling my new belly slosh as it contained nothing but beer. The jersey I was wearing started to feel even tighter as I felt my stomach expand to accommodate.
“Jeez Rob are you okay?” He asked me, minutes before the game began. My consciousness was starting to fade some, the alcohol finally starting to kick in. I had to have been 6 beers in by this point, only taking so long due to Rob’s large build.
“What do you mean?” I asked him, blinking slowly to orient myself. He finished his last bit of his drink and threw it into the closest trash can.
“You aren’t yourself. No idea what I’m talking about, stumbling through any conversation, it’s like I’m talking to…” he shrugged, “well, Timmy”. That made me snap into focus. The original plan when I took over Rob was to talk to my dad about anything but football, and hopefully, make him actually like the real me.
“What about Tim?” I asked him. He cracked open a new beer.
“Well you know, he’s a good kid, but I just don’t get him. Always up in his room all day, toying around with those little figures of his.” My figures I paint as a hobby. Something about bringing those little guys to life brought me a lot of calm. I didn’t even think my dad knew they existed.
“Have you tried connecting with him about what he likes?” I asked him. I knew the answer, but wanted to hear him admit it.
“Yeah,” he said. Liar. “I mean, kind of. I just don’t get it. You known when we were growing up we were outside, running around the woods, getting dirty. Tim he just, I don’t know, is just a shut in. We didn’t grow up like that, he actually did things. Like when we kidnapped the Connors’ dog and posted a ransom to buy snacks in the summer. I mean you know, we did a LOT together. Tried new things, grew closer. He doesn’t do anything, just toys away and plays on that damn computer”.
Ouch. Can’t say I’m surprised though, it’s about what I expected him to feel.
“But I wanna connect with him, you know. I want to be his dad, not just his father. I taught him to ride a bike, hit a baseball, how football works. Then he became a teenager and just dropped all of it and became a different kid.” I was about to open another beer, but wanted to be as much of myself as possible.
“You know Mike, I think he may have always been like this,” I told him. He raised an eyebrow in response. “I think, he just wanted to be the person you wanted him to be so you’d love him. But, he found out that he wasn’t happy doing those things, so he just decided to be himself, and hope you’d love him anyway.”
Mike was silent for a long time, not even taking another drink.
“That is, at least my theory,” I said. He shrugged and pondered.
“I mean I do love him, no matter what he does,” he finally said. “He’s my son. He can be a pro athlete or build and sell a computer for a living. I just figured since we had so much fun together and have great memories, that’s how he should do it too. But, maybe I should try and see how we can do what he likes more.”
I could feel the tears well in my eyes. Fuck Dad, why couldn’t you just tell me that.
“Thanks Rob for just letting me- are you crying?” He asked. I wiped the tears away and hid my face from him.
“No no, just, fuck it,” I said, looking for a new beer.
“You fucking softie,” he said, a hearty laugh escaping him. “Here, for you listening to my bitching.” He leaned over the armrest of the sofa for a little while and finally pulled out a new can. He tossed it to me. Raising his own, he opened the tab. I did the same, only to be met with a flare of foam dousing me. He cackled and slapped his knee.
“Fucker!” I yelled at him, already becoming inhibited from all the drinks. “Gotta change this fucking shirt now,” I told him. I could feel the words slurring as the alcohol came on harder. I stood up, stepping back to try and regain my balance. I grabbed the bottom of my jersey with both hands and yanked it up, my head stuck in the hole before finally tugging it off and slamming it to he ground.
I looked down, once again admiring Rob’s hairy chest and beautiful pecs. The years of service he did performed wonders on his body, which he didn’t give up on as he reached middle age.
“Give me a shirt,” I told him, trying to make it to the staircase.
“Rob fucking sit down, you’re fine,” he called out to me. “Let that shit dry and just be half naked for a bit you puss.” I walked back and fell back on the sofa. My cheeks were flaring up and I could feel my heart pounding from the exertion. I put my hand on my chest to feel the heart rate, and couldn’t help but squeeze a little, feeling the pec succumb to my own touch. I chuckled and looked over to my father, who was looking at me intently. I chuckled to him.
“What?” I asked, losing sight in trying to pretend to be Rob at this point. He smirked.
“Nothing, just, all this talk about our childhoods is making me just remember the good old times. You know know, the Connors dog, the woods, the…. late night talks. Ones about girls, and who was hot in my grade, who was hot in yours. How we’d-“ he pulled his own shirt off and threw it on top of mine. “Try to figure out what would make them feel good”.
I admired Mike’s body, not as toned as mine, but certainly he took care of himself as he aged. He own chest displayed a gorgeous set of fur. How did I miss out on just how beautiful he was? How did I not get these genes and looked more like my mother? How is he looking at me so… sexually? He slid down the L of the sofa, laying his head against the back cushion, throwing an arm behind his head to rest it. His armpit was shadowed in a dark bush, which I can only imagine smelled of a strong musk.
Wait what the fuck? This is my dad, or my brother? He’s family, but I did jerk off my own uncle just hours before. He’s my dad, but he’s also not making this weird. He’s.. he’s.. fuck he’s sexy!
“Game’s about to start,” I told him finally, not taking my eyes off his physique.
“They’re playing the Buccaneers, I know how it’ll go,” he said. He got on all fours and crawled to me. Judging from the look in his eyes, the beers had taken their toll on him as well. We were now face to face, mere inches from one another. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he leaned in and planted his lips on mine. I pushed back a bit, but he wouldn’t let me break away. His tongue slithered forward and traced it along my new one. I gave in and wrestled his with my own, my lips moving in sync with his. He placed a hand on my chest and squeezed at my pec, the warm touch juxtaposing with the shivers which shot through me.
I took my hand and placed it on the back of his head, brushing my fingers through his salt and pepper hair. As I gripped at it, he became more aggressive and reached for my throat. He wasn’t rough with it, but placed his thumb just below my Adams apple, pressing firmly. My breath was ragged from his force, and my pants had grown so incredibly tight in futile attempts to restrain my cock. My other hand went on the lower end of his back, guiding him to press into me, the fur on our chests entangling.
He slipped his mouth away from my lips, running them down my neck, kissing me as he lowered himself further down this stolen body. When he got to my belly, he took extra time to take both hands and rub them across it. He worshipped my stomach, kissing at it, gripping, and without a single word, making me know it was his. His hands ran down my stomach to zipper off my hands, toying with it. I spoke back to him with my dick, flexing it to tell him it needed to be released.
He looked up at me and smirked, lowering his head down again to lick at my bulge. It was torture, I needed to produce it to him and have it slide down his throat. I reached my hand down to get to my pants, but he immediately snapped and grasped my wrists.
“Uh uh,” he hushed. “Remember, I’m making you the girl here. And a good girl, lets the man do what he wants.” He released my wrists and finally got his hands back on my zipper. He zipped it down, before finally finishing with a flourish and pulling the Wranglers down to my ankles. He worked to get them kicked off my feet, before being met a silky pink jockstrap, which could snap at a moments notice. It was absolutely soaked in precum, and my dick had pushed it to its limits.
“What the fuck Rob? You sporting these now?” He asked me. I smirked at him.
“Was just remembering the good times,” I told him with a wink. He seemed to hesitate, almost snapping back to reality. However, the lust must have taken over, as he proceeded to take his tongue and lick up the precum which topped off the jock. Just feeling the tip of his tongue hit my cock made me groan involuntarily.
“Shut up, Tim might be home,” he told me. I wouldn’t worry about that, I wanted to tell him, but no words could form at this point. He proceeded to lap at my bulge, seeming to suck off any of the pre which had accumulated. Just as it seemed he was about to pull my jock off, he backed away. Fuck, was something wrong? I looked up and saw him working on getting his own pants off. He was struggling, barely able to move at all.
I assisted him, leaning forward and not taking the same slow care he had given me. I yanked the pants off and discovered two thing about my dad. One, he liked to go commando. Two, he had an impressive cock. Veiny, hard as a rock, and long enough that I knew he could rub out a prostate without even going halfway in. If he was the surprisingly soft and sultry type, I was the ravenous one. I had never actually sucked a dick before, but had watched plenty of films to emulate what others had done. I gripped the base of his shaft, which despite how large my new hands were, still was an intimidating beast.
I licked at the head of his cock, tasing the musky aroma come to life as the sensation of manhood trickled down my throat. He tasted amazing, his own precum starting to mix with the sweat he had built through the day. I licked my lips, lubing them up as I began to take his entire cock into my mouth. The years of study had prepared me somewhat for what it took to take him, but practice made perfect. At first I almost gagged and vomited the half dozen beers which still waved in my stomach, but as I got into a rhythm, it became easier. He leaned his head back and didn’t say a word, but moans were suppressed from his closed mouth.
He raised both arms up, showing off his pits. The smell permeated through the air, filling my nostrils. He must have not showered in the past couple of days, as I could smell the usual scent of my father embody the room. It motivated me to work harder, pushing my lips to the base of his balls and holding them in place. He grabbed the sides of my head and thrust his cock back and forth, skull fucking me as a growls began to erupt from him.
I thought he was about to coat my throat with his cum, but just as he was about to finish, he threw my head back and pushed me to the other side of the sofa. I looked up to find him jerking himself off and staring at me seductively.
“Turn around and show your big brother that hole of yours,” he commanded, sitting up on his knees. I did as he was told, getting on all fours and facing away from him. I felt the couch move below him as he crawled to me. He spit, and the sensation of his saliva against my hole made me shake. With one hand, he spread my ass cheek to the side, and with the other, I felt him guide the tip of his cock. Pressing against my hole, I gripped at the fabric in the couch, my knuckles turning white.
“Easy,” he told me. “Remember, just like we used to practice.” He pushed the tip and my hole reluctantly allowed him in. It was a shock of pain which made me scream. His hand quickly shot to my mouth and covered it, muffling my howls.
“I told you to shut up,” He said. He kept pushing his cock further in, still holding my mouth closed. He inch which slid its way in made me try to yell louder in and louder, but his calloused hand pressed harder against my lips. There was a sensation, a pop. Immediately I stopped yelling and groaned again, this time in ecstasy.
“There you go lil bro,” he told me. “Just like riding a bike”. He pulled out some and pushed his way back in. Fuuuuuuck. Fuck he was so god damn big! He pumped, his cock rubbing against my prostate. Each thrust sent electricity coursing through my body and out the tip of my cock. I hadn’t touched it in ages and wanted to pump in unison with him, but too much of me was just holding on to the couch for dear life. His thrust began to increase in speed, with no room in between for rest.
“Fuck daddy’s gonna cum!” He yelled out, clearly not worried about the noise anymore. He put a hand on each of my shoulder to steady himself.
“Cum in me dad, cum in me!” I yelled out, my lips free from his grasp.
“FUCK!” He yelled out, pushing his balls deep against my bare ass. I felt his cock twitch with his pulse as wave after wave of his cum shot deep into my colon. I counted it out, each pulse getting weaker and weaker, before finally all I could feel was my dad’s stomach resting on my back as he caught his breath. He slid out and fell back on the couch, his legs spread, and while now limp, he cock rested beautifully on his thigh.
I laid on my own back and marveled at him, so gorgeous even just lit by the TV glow. For a second I was worried in his post nut clarity, he would realize what had happened. Instead, I could hear him snoring, somehow already passed out from the exertion. I took the opportunity to finally whip off the jock strap and pump my cock, which had been lathered up in a concoction of my precum and dad’s saliva.
I felt his cum begin to leak out of my hole, running into the couch. I grabbed a small handful and rubbed it between my fingers. It was thick and a stark white, prime for breeding. Prime for lathering up my cock further and… lathering… That, gave me an idea. Releasing my cock, I stepped to my pants he had discarded on the floor. I fumbled with the pockets until I found it, another vial.
Inside was the lotion I had made to slip myself into Rob. I was worried it would wear off while I was here, making me be ejected. So, I brought an extra container in case I had to sip back inside. But, what if I went a step further? Both of us were already naked, so I took the opportunity to pour the contents all over Rob’s body, just as I had done in my real body.
It was a miracle there was enough, as Rob was twice the size as my original body. However, I finally stood in front of my father, silk, lathered up, and ready to experiment. I was just as careful as I was when I took over Rob’s body. Fingering my dad’s hole and enlarging it. Making it able to take one finger, then two, three, until finally my whole hand was inside of him. I think all of the drinking had sedated him, as he wasn’t moving a muscle from all of the activity.
I pushed further, finding the process to be much more difficult than last time. Previously, I was going from a short, lanky form, barely 150 pounds into a man twice my size. This time, while my father was hardly a small man, had less room available to take in Rob’s body. I worked carefully, pushing both arms inside, before taking a deep breath and plunging my head inside. This sensation was the same at least. Pitch darkness, a tight sensation, the beating of his heart echoing around me. The issue was, Rob’s chest was so fucking massive, I had to really push to get inside.
I could still feel my feet outside, so I used them to prop myself up and force myself in further. I could only imagine what it looked like out there. The towering form of Rob, chest deep inside of my dad’s hole as he tried to slam his entire body into him. However, with each thrust, I could feel my body being encapsulated by my father. Eventually I found my whole upper body inside, and I worked to stretch myself out. It was like I was trying to slide into a latex suit that was two sizes too small. Every crevice of mine was suppressed and pushed inward.
It was constricting, my father’s form could barely contain the man who had at least 40 pounds of muscle on him. But surely, I found a way to get both legs inside and curl my feet in too. I felt the hole close and Rob’s body completely be closed in. Having done this once already, I had an idea of what to do next, but the size difference made it all too difficult. I did learn however from last time to adjust my cock first and not cause a panic. With both arms still not in position with my dad’s, I took my cock and slide it into his like a sheath.
Before I aligned them though, I experimented and pulled back and pushed in again. I did this a few times, feeling like I was fucking the inside of my father. It was too good, but I had to push on, the constriction was getting to me. I aligned both feet and legs, arms, hands, and finally head. I slithered my tongue into my father, and pushed the top of my head into his. With one final force, I pushed my cock into the tip of his and felt the transformation complete.
I opened my eyes and surveyed the room, my head groggy as I felt the alcohol trying to hold me still. The glow of the TV still reflected off the walls, but more noticeable than that was the smell of my father’s musk right next to me. I looked to my left and found his armpit right next to my face. I inhaled deeply, now aware that I was my dad! I liked at his bicep, knowing all the while this tongue just moments ago was worshipping me. I sat up, trying to orientate myself.
Everything was the exact same, though now I could see just under me was a pool of the lotion and cum which soaked into the seats. I rubbed my dad’s hole, and found that some of his cum was still leaking out from me. I brought it to my face and lapped it up. It was salty, tinged with the potency worthy of breeding.
I took another scoopful of his, I guess, MY own cum and lathered up my new dick. As I never did actually finish while I was just Rob, I still had a sizable load to get out. I pumped my dad’s cock which had sprung to life once more. I smelled at this pits as I did so, lapping at his biceps and worshipping my new body.
NSFW version found here
From the excitement of today, it didn’t take long before I could feel the eruption coming.
“Fuck I”m gonna cum!!” I yelled in my dad’s voice, before finally letting out the build up of cum spray all over me. Despite getting off just earlier today, it was a cascade as I coated chest. The fur absorbing every drop and sinking into my chest. My cock was bright red, pulsing as each drip soared into the air. But it was over all too soon, and I was left with just myself, the smell of cum, musk, and the football announcers quietly speaking.
I looked down at myself, proud of the mess I had made. Though, I did wonder what this meant. Was I stuck as my father, with Rob gone forever? Would I get ejected as Rob? As myself? The lotion had lasted this long already, I wonder how much longer I had. If it wasn’t long, I wanted to make the most of it. Slowly, I raised myself up and stood, looking to dress myself up. There I found the jockstrap I had Rob wear, still damp. I stepped in and shimmied it up my legs.
It was cool at this point, and made me shiver, but it was so good to be reunited with it. I rubbed my hands over my body, coaxing the cum further into my hair and admired the nice bulge my dad gave the jockstrap. Maybe if I can keep this up for a bit, I’ll have to have dad pick up some new clothes…Something with leather perhaps.
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A bit of a longer story, but hopefully that makes you all enjoy it even further! Would love to hear from all of you as to what you'd like to see more of as I try to get back more into my writing.
Thank you all!
#male bodypossession#male possession#body possession#male takeover#father and son#dad takeover#male transformation#possesion#male bodysuit#uncle and dad
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𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓’𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐘
pairing: Arthur Morgan x F!reader
Summary: ( Based on the stranger mission: ''an artist's way,, in CH4 ) You run into Arthur while on an errand in Saint Denis while he invites you to come with him to Charles Châtenay's gallery. Afterwards you two go out for a drink, then eventually to a local hotel where you find out Arthur had been drawing you in Charles' "style"
Warnings: smut with plot HEAVILY based off the game's mission - Reader briefly mentioned to be a virgin, fingering, unprotected PIV sex, riding, creampie, oral sex M!receiving + F!receiving. Younger woman reader, Arthur's a big boy, canon that he grabs the headboard sorry not sorry.
WC: 10k
More and more you’ve found yourself becoming the gang’s “errand boy”.
This was often Arthur’s job, though he’s been gone more often now, either on bounty’s or doing the dirty work in the gang. So Dutch had you do the clean work. You’d say you didn’t mind it, the running around at least, after all it was one of your only excuses to get away from camp. You’d jump when Pearson needed more herbs or vegetables from the store or if Dutch needed some cigars. You usually went to Saint Denis most of the time, it was the closest to camp after all -and something about running these errands in the city made you feel right at home. The gang was a downgrade from growing up in the city of course, still not completely used to it: the running, it was as if every time you were comfortable everyone had to pack up and move to a whole new location. Hell, sometimes it means crossing states.
You had just walked back to your horse after buying some goods from the general store across the street, packing your purchases into the saddle bags of your hitched horse -some canned fruits and vegetables, cigarettes as per request from most of the people in camp, and some ammo Dutch asked for, just to stock up I suppose. As you worked on buttoning the flap to the saddle bag back down, making sure none of your goods would be seen by people walking by, after all you spent your hard earned -ahem, stolen money- on those things, you could’ve sworn you heard a man ask for directions, a man with a voice as familiar to you as you own.
You looked over your shoulder to see the man, the sandy brown locks under the gambling hat told you enough, why was Arthur in the city? You didn’t think Dutch had any chores for him today, thus why he asked you to go to the store. He held a small card in his hand, looking from the back of it before his gaze fell back on the woman passing, the one he had asked for directions. Once he got them he’d nod to the woman, eyes falling back onto the card as she walked off.
You’d pat your horse on the neck before walking onto the sidewalk where Arthur stood, he didn’t notice you til’ you tapped on his shoulder. “Arthur?” You were sure he nearly jumped out of his skin. If your voice wasn’t so familiar he probably would’ve elbowed you out of pure defense.
“Christ–! you tryin’ to kill me sneakin’ up on me like that?” He’d pause for a moment as if his brain finally processed that it was you. “The hell are you doing here anyway?”
“Good news, you’ve been replaced.”
“Wha–” His brows would furrow together as his mind cranked to figure out your meaning, that was until you pulled your little shopping list out from the satchel swung over your shoulder. “Oh, that.”
Of course he couldn’t care less about being ‘replaced’ in that department. It was usually a pain in his ass –And honestly you were a pain in his ass too. It’s not that he didn’t like you, you were just ultimately too spunky for his nature. He’d gladly admit you were a good shot, a good killer. So with that you made a good member for this gang. Personality wise he couldn’t help but wince at your jokes while others would laugh, the tiniest amount of attitude that laced each of your sentences. He wasn’t one to like immaturity, especially from someone who was an adult. Though, you were barely even that.
“Have fun runnin’ around with that list of yours then. Seems you’re really movin’ on up.” He’d scorn.
He’d look down at the card in his hands, then back up to look around his surroundings.
“Do you know where this is?”
He handed you the card, the finished paper now warm from him holding it for so long now against your fingertips. It was an address to one of the buildings on this street, you were surprised he hadn’t realized by now.
“That woman didn’t tell you? It’s right on this street.”
“No.” He’d roll his eyes. “She looked at me like I lost my mind.”
You’d snicker at that, now walking down the sidewalk with him, both of your boots clicking against the stone sidewalk. Then you stopped in front of the brick building. ”Here, I think.” You’d give that card one last look, noticing the name on the back of the card, you’d squint to see if you were reading it right -Charles Châtenay? you could’ve sworn I heard that name–
My eyes flicked up to the poster on the side of the brick, looks like it was what I thought after all. I usually pick up the paper when I go this route. The route of aimlessly following Dutch’s list as I walk or ride around the city, gives me something to read when I get back to Shady Belle. Seems the artist had an open gallery today. you couldn’t help but snort, the thought of you, Arthur Morgan going to an art gallery full of practically- well, pornography, now that just might be the funniest damn thing you’ve heard all week. -Your immaturity was truly striking.
“Mr. Morgan, Mr. Morgan.” You’d snark. Of course when Arthur wasn’t acting like the man he was -the same man with five-thousand dollars on his head alone, the same who’s murdered more than a person could fathom he was just your regular ol’ suck up.
“Don’t start with that now, I’m already annoyed I gotta go to this thing.” He tapped his boot onto the sidewalk, taking that card back from you and putting it back into his satchel. “Well, ‘less you wanna come in with me. You’d have a field day with this kinda thing. Châtenay seems like a man who’d entertain you anyway.”
You’d think it over for a moment, you could hear chatter already coming from the windows of the building that were open just a crack. Surely you’d find entertainment in it but you were also fond of the arts as well. Though paintings of women laid out nude wouldn’t strike something in you as it would in a man, you’d be surprised if you were the only woman in that building other than the ones on canvas. –At least this would bring some entertainment to your day.
“I’ll keep you company. Lead the way– or, shall I? Seeing you’re horrible with directions.”
“Up the stairs and to the right.” He’d recite the directions written on the back of that card. “I think I can remember that.”
You two walked into the building together, up the stairs and to the right and you were there. The first hall was filled with sculptures, beautiful paintings hung against the blue walls, the next room you two stepped in was Châtenay’s, you and Arthur’s gaze met with women’s breasts and men’s cocks painted with oils on the canvases. It surely was– something. Arthur tugged his collar to clear his throat.
The room had more of a variety of guests than you thought, actually more women than men which came as a shock up until you realized these women were actually the models conversing with the other models. They seemed quite proud of their work, respectably so. Arthur had spotted the french artist across the room chatting one of the models up, he wouldn’t want you to get mixed up in his own charades so Arthur would squeeze your shoulder for your attention just for a moment.
“Why don’t you stay here, pretend to be a model or sumthin’, princess. Wouldn’t want you to get your ear talked off by Charles.”
Your eyes fell on the french artist as he stood distracted across the room, you could barely hear nor understand the words that he was blabbering out through his thick french accent. Something told you maybe it was a good idea for Morgan to handle what he’s gotten himself into with this man before you were stuck talking to someone you could hardly understand, stuck replying with ‘mhm’s’ and ‘uh-huh’s’ as if you knew what he was saying. Although you’d feel a bit awkward standing there and staring at the intimate paintings of both men and women while standing in the same room as the people being portrayed in oil, it’d probably be best for you at least, you were only here to keep Arthur company and today you felt you’d be less of a nuisance to him by obeying his wishes.
“Sure thing.”
You watched as Arthur walked away from you all the way to the other side of the gallery leaving you alone with the model’s dressed in their elegant, expensive attire that you could only dream of owning. And unfortunately due to the paintings you now know what’s under the rich clothing.
– That evening only got more interesting from there on. It was quite ridiculous, you and Arthur couldn’t have been there for more than fifteen minutes before all hell started to break loose. The husbands and wives of the models had practically raided the building before shouting at their spouses, you couldn’t really tell what was happening between Châtenay being attacked by the men and the women, being hit with a variety of chairs, purses, and of course, fists. Before things could get out of hand with you in the mix Arthur came over to you. He had a wide smile on his face, could’ve sworn this was the first time you’ve seen him laugh so hard he had developed tears in the corners of his eyes.
“You should probably get outta here before you get in the mix of fists, sweetheart–” His voice quickly cut off by a crash as he escorted you out of the gallery. “Wait outside.” He’d pat your shoulder, leaving you standing at the top of the stairs as he left to go help the artist.
“Sure– thing.” It was like that turned into your only response.
You didn’t really have time to leave with a jest, or something more than two words, not to be a pussy but you really didn’t feel like being hit by a stray flying chair, so you just walked down the stairs and back outside. You’d laugh to yourself as you walked down the street and away from that brick building, of course the highlight of the day only lasted a short moment, it was quick and rushed, but really you didn’t need to stare at those paintings any longer than you already have. -You felt as if Charles or the gallery wouldn’t be mentioned or thought of again, at least in this moment. But you’d be wrong about that. -The sun was setting now, it looked beautiful against all the buildings that made up the city, you found a bench to sit on, figured you’d read that paper you got earlier while you waited for Arthur. Your eyes would skim the words but nothing would really register.
A little while had gone by and after the sun finally set, the stars scattered against the dark sky as you stayed patiently waiting on that wooden –and quite uncomfortable bench, constantly finding yourself adjusting and shifting to get more comfortable, ‘course it didn’t work . You heard footsteps, looking up from the newspaper you felt you read about a hundred times by now out of pure boredom you were relieved to see that it was Arthur.
“Jesus, I thought you’d never come back. Why’d you take so long?”
“Had to escort the dumbass home so he didn’t get killed. Seems he had a whore waiting for him an’ everythin’.”
You’d let out a short breath at that, not quite a laugh, you felt your body getting a bit tired but you quickly shook off the feeling, rubbing your eyes with the back of your palm before standing from the bench, leaving the paper behind you, you had a bit of a ride back to Shady Belle, wouldn’t want to fall asleep on the back of your horse. You also had to get all that food and goods you bought back to the camp –though you weren’t quite sure how urgent we needed the provision.
You and Arthur started walking down the sidewalk, side-by-side, the night air now nipping at your skin through the thin fabric of your blouse. It had been too long without a good tease from you to purposely annoy him, clearing your throat to prepare to speak.
“How do you know that artist anyway?”
He’d look down at you as he walked, that was a fair question to ask.
“I met him in the saloon –not the big one down the street here, the smaller one. Don’t know if you’ve ever been there.”
You’d shrug. “I’ve passed by it.”
Arthur would nod. “Met him in there and somehow he convinced me to go to that little show. Gave one of his–” He'd stop his words looking down at you before shaking his head.
“Nevermind”
Charles gave him one of his many artworks, a nude woman, an illustration that he embarrassingly kept safely in his satchel since. And now he’d especially not want to tell you, you were already amused that he even went to the damn show which he himself had more fun that he should’ve. Though, to mention, he didn’t start having fun til’ Châtenay was getting his ass handed to him.
You on the other hand were now dying to know what he gave Arthur, –can’t just start a sentence without finishing it. You had a feeling begging him for the answer wouldn’t work of course, you’d try anyway.
“Oh come onnnnnn.” You sneered. “M’sick of you doing that, you’ve been on this earth long enough to realize you can’t just start a sentence without finishing.”
‘N’ I’ve known you long enough to know I shouldn’t be givin’ you any more reasons to laugh at me.”
“I don’t– laugh,” You’d scoff. “Five months isn’t long either, you barely know me.”
Morgan let out a sigh, tying to think of a good excuse to kinda brush away what he said. Something to finish the sentence he started. “He gave me some money, paid me to go to that exhibit. Don’t want you goin’ around thinkin’ I’m a pervert who went for a good time.”
You’d look up to him after he said that. If that’s all it was –money. “I wasn’t thinkin’ that.”
Well, maybe it crossed your mind once or twice. But then again why would he stop himself from saying that? Right now you couldn’t bother to make sense of it, you just shrugged it off. –Now the walk was silent for the most part, there wasn’t really anything to say. Once you got to your horse you’d pat the saddle bag, feeling that your goods hadn’t been stolen, letting out a sigh before turning back to Arthur.
“We should both get back to camp before someone gets worried.”
Really, you didn’t know who would get worried, you’ve stayed the night at a hotel in the city more times than you could count just so you could sleep in a comfortable bed ‘stead of your worn, hard cot.
“No one will be worried. Come on I’m the one who made you stay out here longer than you intended, I’ll buy you a whiskey or sumthin’.”
You’d look at him, almost surprised to hear the offer. It was rare for him to be sweet, if that was the right word for offering you a drink. It sounded good, the thought alone of the cool alcohol burning down your throat already waking you up a bit more than you were.
“That’d– that’d be nice.”
Not too long after those words were shared you and Morgan had made it into the saloon, the faint playing of the piano heard from across the street now loud along with the chatter between people sitting and eating at their tables to the men around their table playing poker. Since it was a bit later in the day –the night now fully taking its course, it was like a signal for men and women alike to flood the saloon. You and Arthur had found a booth to be separated from the crowd at least a little bit. You both set your satchels down on the corners of your seats, Arthur’s finger tapping against the finished wood that made up the table before he took out a cigarette from his satchel along with his lighter, flicking the flame before holding it against his cigarette to light it, Adjusting to stuff the lighter conveniently into the pocket of his pants, inhaling the tobacco into his lungs before blowing the smoke away from the booth.
“I’ll get up, get us some drinks.”
“Mhm.” You’d hum as you watched him shift out of the booth, walking away to go to the bar. You’d notice something in his empty space, a piece of paper had fallen out of his satchel. You didn’t think anything of it of course, didn’t bother reaching over to put it back in for him. Curiosity killed the cat.
A few minutes later Arthur came back with a couple bottles, sitting back down into the leather seats of the booth with a sigh, the bottles clinking against the table as he placed them down.
“Thanks.” You'd nod, popping the cork out the bottle with your thumb.
“Just two beers, don’t wanna get too drunk, not here.”
Boy, was he wrong.
After those two beers Arthur had gotten up again to get another. Once beers were out he went to whiskey. One whiskey was out he grabbed any alcohol they had at that bar. Two turned into four. Four turned into six, –eight… Ten.. Fuck.
To be fair you didn’t have as many drinks as Arthur deciding to play responsible tonight, but it was still enough.
The once clean table turned into a mess of empty bottles, glasses, Arthur’s cigarettes and the ashes from made a mess of the ashtray pushed to the side of the table. Random splashes of golden liquid dripped on the table. Now piss drunk in a booth with an also piss drunk Morgan was… Actually a real fuckin’ good time. A peep could escape your lips and Arthur could double over the table with laughter, same with you.
One idiotic conversation after another you finally thought of it again even through your drunken haze –whatever that artist ‘gave him’ to persuade him into going to the gallery. Why was it clawing at you so much? You usually weren’t so interested in him or his life. Maybe it was because you knew he was blatantly lying to you.
“Now– you tell me the hell that– that artist gave you– remember?”
Finishing the sentence with a hiccup you’d look back at Arthur. Now since you both were a couple more shots away from passing out onto the sea of glasses that made up the table, both of your tongues were loose, of course.
He let out a laugh, shaking his head as he reached into his satchel. “Goddamn, guess you know how to loosen a man up–” He pulled out that piece of paper that was earlier peeking out from the top of the leather. “--Gave me this pretty little drawin’. Ain’t she a fuckin’ ‘beaut, eh?”
The picture he slid over to you from the other side of the table was a photograph of a nude woman of course, her bare breasts on a perfect display as she perched on a chair. You couldn’t help but laugh, was he really carrying this around all this time? Sure– that creep of a man could truly draw, but Arthur wasn’t one to keep aimless gifts close to him, definitely not directly in his satchel for safe keepings –though you couldn’t imagine what he was actually doing with this picture. If it’s what you thought that would be pretty damn pathetic.
“He surely can draw– that man–” You’d slur, sliding the illustration back to Arthur, wasn’t something you really needed to study. “--Now, you don’t–” You’d clear your throat “Surely you don’t–”
“Now princess, I’d need a lot more than a sketch for that.”
You’d laugh, his words melted right off his tongue from the alcohol. Right now you couldn’t even force yourself to think anything of the words he was saying, and anyway, the thought of a man –even Arthur jerking off to a measly sketch of a woman sounded more unappealing than something that’d get you going. Why would it anyway? Arthur was– well, he was Arthur. You’d often be cautious to even call him a friend of yours. Though right about now in the haze of booze that clouded your brain and same his, he’d most definitely call you his friend as an introduction at least.
The music, the chatter, the yelling and hollering in the saloon was echoing through your head. You were sure the pianist practically banging on the keys of the piano would split your ears open if you stayed in that place any longer –you’d ignore it for now, hell maybe even another drink would solve that problem.
“...I didn’t need to know that information.” You’d finally get past your lips with another giggle, slouching over the table with that damned empty bottle still in your grasp, being swung around to enunciate all your sentences.
Arthur raised an eyebrow, he couldn’t help the grin that pulled at his lips –blame the brandy for that. He leaned back into the leather seats of the booth, his arm lazily draped onto the table, tapping his finger against the glass bottle he held –completely empty.
“You asked.”
He shrugged, taking a long sip from the glass bottle, savoring the feeling of the cool liquid slipping down his throat, feeling unnecessarily in love with the burning. You’d pout, tap your finger against the bottle you held, but the corners of your lips betrayed you, a smirk quickly replaced how your bottom lip would stick out from your top.
“Didn't expect an answer– not like that–” hic “–not from you.”
“What are you– drawin’ these types of things too? Psh– maybe you needed the reference.” You’d mock him, that brought a scoff from his lips as if you just said something so fucking absurd, he shook his head, slamming his bottle back down onto the wooden table as you swirled your empty bottle around the table. His gaze was seemingly stuck on the table as if he was examining the grooves and knots in the wood, running his finger along the imperfections.
“No, I–” His voice was conveniently cut off by a bang coming from one of the tables, more loud hollering, yelling –looks like someone won a poker game at least, the table surrounded by wasted men, all a bit too excited to be here tonight. Arthur was clearly getting antsy and the alcohol was even clouding your vision.
Imagine a radio overlapping ten different songs over each other and now replace the songs with the not-so pleasant sounds of men who’d been guzzling booze all night screaming over losing their money by their own stupid and idiotic decisions, women cackling over the city’s pointless gossip– that damn piano! You were ready to smash your beer bottle over the pianist’s head–
You tried to take a swig from your empty bottle before tossing it onto the table with the others. With a groan Arthur buried his face into his worked palms, he seemed just as sick of it as well.
“Goddamn–” He’d groan. His hands pressing harder into his face as if he was desperately trying to wipe away the noise. “Fuck. Fuck…”
You two just couldn’t stand it anymore.
So, why stand it?
You and Morgan made it out of the bar successfully without beating someone with one of the bottles from the mess you had carelessly left on the table –you two getting out of there in time for the bartender to say anything. Swinging your satchels over your shoulders you two left the godforsaken noisebox that saloon had turned on, now all the ‘’hootin’ ‘N’ hollerin’,, was a faint sound heard from the distance as you walked down the sidewalk.
You rubbed your temple with the pad of your thumb, feeling a little better now without all the over fucking excitement.
“Gah– fuck.” Arthur would lean up against the brick building beside him, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand before looking forward, noticing the lit sign for the hotel in the distance. It was quite obvious you two wouldn’t want to be riding your horse back to camp right now. Morgan checked his pocket watch, the arms of the clock pointing to 11:35. ‘Kay, not too late.
“You don’t wanna ride all the way to camp right now, do ya?” His voice deeper than normal from all the drinking, the slurring.
“Not particularly,”
With a pause your head turned to the sign of the hotel, it’d be better just to go right straight there, once again you might’ve gone it anyway tonight just for that comfortable bed that comes with the deal –Hell, two dollars could get you a bed with two rooms if you’re lucky enough.
A hum escaped your throat as you nodded. “I–”
“Dont– don’t worry I’ll be payin’”
As if you didn’t have two dollars to spare you perked up a bit at that. Guess it was all you needed to hear.
No more excuses, you’d be spending the night with this drunken fool.
You two both were wobbly on your feet, of course with the amount of shots and bottles practically swallowed whole you could go figure that. You walked into the front doors as you tried to adjust your clothes, Arthur pushed his hat up so it wouldn’t be slouched over his eyes.
“Ah, may I help you two?” The clerk at the front desk had one of those fake overexaggerated smiles on his face.
“Just lookin’ for a room to stay the night. Nothin’ special.” He’d clear his throat, trying to shake off the drunken slur that was making his voice. “Two beds.”
Of course he had to clarify that– er, it only made sense anyway. It’d be really awkward if you and Arthur had to share a–
“Sorry, we don’t have rooms with two beds here.”
Shit.
Well it was logical at least, why would they? Let’s think. Who actually gets hotel rooms – commonly it’s men who’ve bought themselves a whore for the night or someone looking for a place to rest on their ventures. Not often you have two drunken outlaws stumbling in asking for two beds.
“Fine. M’That’s just– fine.”
Arthur would pass some money over the desk to the man behind, in exchange he received a key to the room.
“Upstairs, first room to your left, enjoy the stay folks.”
Jesus, you could’ve sworn that smile was melting off that clerk’s face as he spoke. You’d rub your temple again as you and Arthur just said a quick ‘’thank you,, in unison.
Both of your boots would stomp heavily up the stairs. – upstairs first room to your left. Once there you turned to it, Arthur put the key in, turned it, opened the door. The rusted hinges creaked as it opened, though despite that sound the door opened to reveal a very nice looking hotel room. The bed was made, a thick quilt and were those– satin pillows?
Surely this was paradise.
Arthur’s eyes looked around the room, other than the bed, a dresser in front, couple nightstands and an oil lamp to give the room a nice warm light –there was an arm chair pushed to the side of the room.
“I’ll take the chair.”
He groaned as he shimmied his coat off of his shoulders, lazily throwing it onto the arm of the chair. Now with this action he also removed his satchel, it hit the nightstand by the bed, narrowly missing the lamp and hitting the edge before his palms met with his forehead again.
“M’gonna try to find a bathroom in this place–”
You’d let a scowl cross your mouth as he said that, watching as he stumbled out the door, closing it behind him.
Well, at least you could get some peace and quiet– is what you would say if there wasn’t the sound of the bed creaking clearly from rocking back and forth and a quick pace wasn’t coming from behind the drywall of your own room. Whatever, somehow that could be easily ignored by you.
You did notice something more interesting than that though –something you couldn’t seemed to ignore: Arthur’s satchel had fallen from where he had thrown it, landing onto the floor as all his things fell all of it –a mess of papers and money, a couple packs of cigarettes too. You’d click your tongue as you went to pick it up, noticing his journal had fallen out too.
You crouched down to start putting his things back into the leather bag, the money, the cigarettes, though your hands lingered on the worn leather back of his journal for a bit longer than they should’ve.
No, you shouldn’t.
But what if you just– one peak wouldn’t hurt.
Arthur would probably take a while anyway figuring he went to presumably empty his body of all the alcohol he had drank in just one evening.
Though as you looked more at the mess on the ground below your knees you’d notice the papers more, one was right side up but underneath the journal, so you’d lift it. Doing so revealed the full drawing done in pencil–
A sketch of a nude woman much like one Châtenay had drawn. But this one– it seemed different. There was more detail, more fluidity to the art, it looked all the more real. Down to the freckles drawn down the valley of her breasts.
You flipped over another stray paper, this one of the same. A naked woman, her breasts on full display, detailed. You’d flip another
And then another.
You’d open his journal.
Flipping through the pages where he’s drawn various things, trees, animals, beautiful scenery of places he’s traveled with the locations written in the corners, some pages filled with chicken scratch of his thoughts– you’d pay no mind to those. You started to notice the pages that were ripped out from his journal yet kept in, more drawings.
Were you going crazy or did these drawings turn from your average woman with long wavy locks and bright eyes to– you…?
You felt a coil in your gut as you looked down at the images, not the bad kind of coil that you’d get while you’re being chased by an armed man or the kinda coil you’d get as a kid when your parents caught you stealing from the cookie jar– no, you could tell it wasn’t that kind from the additional heat that pooled in your tummy.
Your breathing would pick up, your eyebrows knitted closely as you looked down at these drawings. Your eyes. Your lips. Your nose. Quite obviously your hair too–
Fuck. You were beginning to hear footsteps stumbling down the hallway. You’d quickly shove the contents of his satchel back in, you surely didn't have time to worry about where everything went– if it’d just fall out again, if he’d notice it had been ran and rummaged through. Once it was all in there you quickly latched the button and placed it back on the nightstand, quickly standing from your knees as soon as he opened the door.
“Hi–”
How could a two letter greeting sound guilty as ever?
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as a grunt escaped the back of his throat, though now looking at him maybe you didn’t wish you were as drunk as him right now –even if it probably meant you’d be forgetting about those drawings by now, maybe you’d just brush it off.
He closed the door behind him as he coughed into his fist, gently guiding you out of the way so he could get to the satchel on the nightstand–
Fuck.
As he undid the button he reached in to grab a packet of cigarettes when he noticed one of them was missing.
“You take one of these?”
He’d say, popping the last one of the packet actually still in his satchel between his lips before lighting it.
“What– no! No– I don’t smoke…”
He’d look at you with his half-lidded gaze he’s had since the saloon, furrowing his brows at your reaction, frazzled for no good reason.
“Christ, girl. You don’t take your liquor well.”
That was funny, you’d think it was the other way around.
“I think it’s quite the opposite, Arthur.”
You’d see his gaze shift to the floor as he looked around, where could’ve that pack gone? He was sure he had a second one– no, he knew he had a second one since he just went out and bought it earlier in the day and– Ah, there it was. Halfway to being pushed completely under the bed Arthur bent to pick it back up. He was too delirious to think of why it even got there.
You swallowed the lump in your throat as you looked at him, his body– those fingers that you now knew were once holding a pencil to paper, sketching you, what he imagined to be underneath those pretty blouses you wore, those skirts that stopped at your ankles.
This was killing you. Even though you hadn’t said a word to him you still felt like you were lying to him, deceiving him. You never had a problem with that before anyway, why start now?
You knew what else you always were –that damn loud, snarky girl he always hated to be around. The one who’d let any words leave her mouth without a thought and now you’re here, standing in silence, you’d think your mouth was sewn shut.
Under the shadow of the bed Arthur saw something else– a paper.
Shit.
He tapped his boot on top of it and dragged it out, the sound of the paper sliding across the wooden floor heightened your senses again. Course it was one of those drawings, those drawings. It was his turn for his heart to rapidly thump against his ribs.
“Fuck.” You’d hear him groan as he bent down to pick up that paper now, looking it over, it wasn’t one of the drawings of you, one of the quick sketches of a woman he hadn’t named.
“You didn’t–”
…
“I did.”
The room fell silently quickly after that, how could it not? There was no point of you mustering up a flustered, messy defense in a long drawn out blabber that’d escape your lips so you’d just admit it. It wasn’t nothing you did wrong anyway. Arthur sighed, rubbing his hand over his face once more as he shoved the drawing back into his satchel, easily frustrated now he’d just crump it up into a ball before getting it into the leather bag. He braced his hands on the edge of the night stand, taking in a deep long breath before letting out an even deeper and even longer breath out.
You should say something– say something so he could look you in the eye.
“I– didn’t ask for those.”
“I know.” He’d breathe.
“I didn’t even realize you considered us friendly– I had no clue you–”
“I know.”
Your fingers would twitch at your sides, swallowing hard.
“You don’t know what you’re doing to me…”
At first in his head those words sounded– like they could be angry, it might’ve been his brain telling him that. Then he heard that tone– that almost breathless tone in your voice. He finally got the courage back to look you in the eyes, his fingers peeling away from the edge of that nightstand, if his nails dug into the finished wood any harder he would’ve left indents.
“You should be angry with me.”
“I’m not. I mean– I couldn’t be farther from that.”
You’d stop a moment, his breathing was heavy and so was yours. Arthur would push and twist his cigarette into the ashtray to put it out, blowing out the rest of the smoke through his nostrils with a suppressed, small cough.
“What are you then, princess?’
The name he had been calling you all day now sounding completely different in this heavy tone. You knew exactly what you were. Voicing that would be a little difficult. You felt if you did end up blurting something out it’d either kill the moment or kill him. His voice still had a slur to it from the alcohol, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Your own throat ran dry as you flicked your eyes to his plump, pink lips.
A man like Morgan knew what that look you gave meant, he’s had his own fair share of whores over the years, working girls were his usual go-to after Mary at least, before too. I mean, Christ, the man had himself a son once he knew what your eyes alone were saying.
“Why don’t you find out…” You’d finally blurt.
His boots clicked against the ground as he walked close to you, his hand reaching out to cup the nape of your neck.
The way his face slowly, so carefully slowly moved towards yours you’d think he was going in for a slow, gentle capture of your lips– not quite.
His face twitched– leaving you with a brief flash of micro emotion before he would collide his lips against your own, his fingers curling and tangling in your locks of hair.
His tongue delved into your mouth before your own body got the chance to respond, your arms quickly wrapping around his neck as you moaned into the kiss. His hands slid down your shoulders, arms, the curve of your waist, hips, all the way down to your thighs, hands moving to the back of them to hoist you up against his body, his palms laid flat against your ass.
Your legs locked around his hips, finding difficulty to find a place to settle your hands as his tongue fucked your mouth, his shoulders? His arms? You’d eventually give them a home on his vest-covered chest, your fingernails digging into the black leather.
He could feel the denim of his pants stretch around his growing cock, he hoisted you higher, your clothed breasts practically at his lips now, those lips quickly parted from your lips to move down your neck, sucking at your pulse point.
You would never consider yourself noisy, not ever. Your life so far had never called for sex, sure men had given you their eyes, licking their lips seemingly to grab your attention but they never did, failing miserably instead of getting what they wanted from you. Playing with yourself was a lost cause but you’d count it as experience, the frustrated pumps of your own fingers into your pussy weren’t enough to draw pleasure, relieve the ache in your stomach, it only made it tighter.
Arthur had sucked a hickey into your skin, he made sure it’d be hidden by your hair since it was so far up on your neck. His roughened hands still would squeeze your ass cheeks, fingers working you like dough before giving it a quick, hard spank. Almost just muscle memory for him.
With a grunt he’d lower you two down onto the bed, his mouth quickly returned to yours with the same –nearly violent pace. The bulk of his muscles pressing into your more so petite form. His hand roamed your body – your legs, thighs, stomach, moving up to cup then squeeze your soft breast, the pad of his thumb teasing your budded nipple through the thin fabric of your blouse rewarding him with a moan from your sweet lips.
Just the feeling of his clothing rubbing against his body was driving him mad, ‘’uncomfortable,, couldn’t even express it anymore, it was hell. His hands reluctantly pulled away from you, at a quick pace his thick fingers undid the buttons of his heavy vest, when that was gone, quickly discarded to the floor he finally felt like he was gaining - at least some - of his breath back, now it was a matter of his shirt, quickly undoing the buttons of that next. Fuck, he needed you.
He needed you right fucking now.
He shimmied the shirt off of his shoulders, down the muscles of his arms before it dropped to the floor behind him –he was on top of you again. His hips bucked into yours quick and hard. Grinding. Rubbing.
Your hair would splay behind you on the bed, always thought in moments like this your eyes should be closed, that seemed like common knowledge, your half-lidded eyes still refused to fully close, especially now that his shirt was off. You’ve of course seen Morgan with his shirt off before, tending to his wounds, his cuts, bathing in the lake out by camp– close up like this it was different. His biceps pulsing as his hands braced on either side of your head, fingers curling into the blanket. Puffs of hard breaths would escape him, it was almost like a pattern before he’d grab you by the sides of your thighs tight.
Arthur would let himself fall back against the pillows that piled against the bed frame, dragging your body right onto his lap –now it was obvious how hard he was, that mass between his legs pulsating against your ass, your back pressed against his chest as he snaked an arm around you, quickly so fucking fast. He’d begin unbuttoning your blouse, tugging it right off of you, you were surprised he didn’t tear the fabric off of your pretty little body. His hands moved up, groping and squeezing your tits from behind, one of his hands moved down your body, down your sternum, stomach, and past the hem of your skirt, dripping your hand under it before his thick fingers found your panties.
Fucking hell you were soaked.
“Jesus christ… Fuckin’ hell you’re soaked…”
He’d grunt, he hadn’t spoken in a while, so focused on his movements, breathing. This was something he couldn’t ignore. He placed a kiss on your nape before his fingers would slide past your wet underwear, his hips involuntarily thrusting into your ass, squeezing your tit harder as he pushed two of his big fingers into your hot cunt. Your head lolled back against his shoulder as you practically squealed.
“Arthur–!”
Your mouth was wide open, sharp, sinful moans escaping from you as his fingers curled inside you, fuck. If you couldn’t even handle his fingers how would you handle his cock. You can only imagine how fucking big it was. Big hands, muscles, body, it’d be one of god’s greatest jokes if it didn’t live up to the rest of his body.
Your cunt would clench around his fingers- it had been this whole time. His fingernail scraped across the tip of your erect nipple again, you’d squirm in his arms, your own fingers digging into his massive biceps, the tip of your finger tracing the vein that ran down it, his muscle would twitch.
With a wet squelch from your tight pussy Arthur would withdraw his fingers from your walls, you weren’t finished. Wasn’t his concern. The coil in your gut felt like it’d burst any second, your cunt left throbbing, empty without the fill of his fingers.
He was gonna give you something better than his fingers.
“Lift up…”
His mouth was pressed against your ear feeling the hot breath fan onto your lobe. His hands gripped onto your hips, pulling that pretty dark skirt right down the length of your legs, you could hear the clinking of his belt behind you, making your ears perk.
“Up.”
Another command escaped his lips, you’d nod as you shakily got off of him, kneeled onto the bed. Arthur blew out the oil lamp on the bedside table, the room now lit by the paleness of the moonlight that shone through the windows, the curtains spread. It wasn’t like people would see anyway, though it’d be a good show.
Once he had unbuckled his belt he threw it to the ground– Arthur didn’t wear briefs, why would he? They caused him more discomfort, an extra layer of tightness to his balls and shaft. One tug of his work-pants and his hard, thick cock sprung from the confines of the black denim, the light from the window reflecting on the bead of precum that beaded off his cockhole. His size was impressive, sending a signal through your body– you couldn’t control yourself anymore. You ripped your underwear right off of that poor bundle of nerves that it protected, tossing the wet lace down onto the floor.
You practically crawled to him, his hands reached for your hips before pulling you on top of him, walking on your knees over him, his cock shooting straight up as it twitched with your pussy like it was fucking magnetic. You’d sink your body down onto the thickness, moaning his name as you sheathed him into your pulsating cunt. His hand wrapped around the headboard, gripping it for dear life as he pumped his way into you–
“Fuck!” Your hands braced on either one of his hips before one trailed up to his chest.
“That’s it– that’s fuckin’ it, princess.”
His thrusts quickened, his back arching up with each fast pound of his pelvis. His cock slipping deeper into your gummy walls with each snap. His dick curved inside of you, the head of his shaft kissing your g-spot, he felt so painfully good, your teeth bit into your thumb to try to muffle the sounds escaping your mouth, your body shaking.
You didn’t want to let yourself be this –a mess on top of him. Riding him. You had to gain some control even with his cock slapping inside of your sore hole. His eyes opening up, releasing the headboard to trail back to your breasts, those scarred, calloused hands - once again - giving the tender mounds another generous groping. Your hands would run to rest on top of his own big ones, the size of him consuming every sense –not only his dick, his hands, his body. Looking down and seeing the muscles in his stomach tense and twitch, his head arching backwards into the comfortable pillows behind. He was close. Surely you were too.
His hand ran to the small of your back as he helped you a bit, pushing himself up against the headboard so his body was lazily sat up now, your hips rolling back and forth into his as you ground down, making a loud, throaty moan release from the back of his throat, his balls slapped against your ass, now you’ve got it. Bouncing up and down on his cock leaving him with no mercy.
“You’re gonna make me cum, princess– you’re’mmmm–”
His eyes locked onto the sight of your perfect tits bouncing up and down as you took his cock, he felt his sack tighten up, that unbearable sensation deep in his gut, he was gonna cum. He needed to cum. Though you were still chasing that high as his fingers dug into your waist, your skin there raw and pink from the tight hold. The base of his cock rubbed against your clit, the coarse hair crowning it scratched against the sensitive, swollen bud, the sensation making you lose every bit of yourself to him.
With one more curved thrust from him you’d climax, your body collapsing over top of his as you did. Making sure to cry right into his ear. Your trembling fingers clawing and digging into the broad, tense muscles of his shoulders. His eyes rolling back into his skull as his orgasm followed yours, strings of hot semen coating your inner walls as he fucked it into you, making your pussy milk out every hot, thick rope of cum, his head falling foreward between the valley of those pretty tits he’d been admiring all night.
“Oh fuck, princess.”
His voice wavered as he tried desperately to catch his breath back though it seemed it’d all been stolen from his lungs.
“Oh, Arthur…”
That desperate whine squeaked from your lips. A kiss was planted on your clavicle before he’d guide you so you were underneath him again, careful not to jar you too much after all he was well aware of how hard he had just fucked that tight little hole of yours. He’d pull his shaft out from those walls that were spasmed around him just a second ago, watching all that access, hot seed spill out from your pink petals.
Did you think that was it? Surely you had to return the favor.
Arthur had a cigarette lit and hanging from his lips that were wet with his own salvia, your head between his legs bobbing up and down on that thick cock that was still coated with your own juice. His fingers tangled up in your hair, fucking your mouth with the same force as he had with your cunt just moments ago. The cigarette in his hot mouth was the only thing suppressing his noises, taking it between his fingertips just to let out a loud long moan.
You’d gag when his swollen tip hit the back of your throat unexpectedly, your hands digging into his thighs as your eyes held close so fucking tight tears welled up in them, making your vision blurry as you looked up at Arthur, eyes closed, puffing on that cigarette. Your left hand went to wrap around your base as you pulled him nearly completely out of your mouth, your lips still wrapped around his cockhead, your tongue tracing his hole.
“Goooooood fuckin’ girl… Keep going–”
Your hand jerked him off now as your abused throat got to catch a break, though it’d still need to be put up to work, hm? You hopped onto his thigh as your hand now caressed his chest, trickling your fingers down his thick chest hair that covered the tan skin. Your thumb teased his red hot tip, before you kept rolling your hand up and down –he was close, you now leaned to tell when that vein that ran down his low stomach all the way down to the middle of his shaft began to twitch and pump you’d get to milk the man dry a second time. A mix of your drool and his precum dripping down his length.
Your fist tightened around him as your mouth locked with his as he held the smoking cigarette between his forefinger and his middle, his hand wrapping in your hand to the nape of your neck, hips bucking into your palm, he cums again. Hard. Right into your fist.
Arthur was panting like a damn dog, you had jerked him off just right to get his legs to tremble as they spread for you. He broke away from your mouth to catch his breath that you stole from him. You trailed a kiss to his neck, he had been marking you all night you thought it was only fair to give him some too, sucking a purple mark into his skin before trailing your mouth down.
“Good girl— good fuckin’ girl…” He was a mess.
His praise was always a godsend to you, ringing through your ears, you craved it. Your tongue ran down his collar, his shoulder, then down his arm, those pulsing muscles that were smooth to the touch, glistening with his sweat. The way his chest began heaving heavily as you traced the thick vein that ran down his bicep with your tongue.
Receiving was something that his body needed. But giving was something that he craved. Just hearing the sweet moans and cries from a woman’s mouth as it hung agape was something that could get him off more times at just the thought of than a blowy.
–Though now your legs were on his shoulders as he pumped his tongue into your walls, running it up and down your slit as he - messily - ate your pussy, he was starving for it after all. Your back was arching upwards but his hands were too occupied holding your ankles to the dips of his shoulders to touch you anywhere else, his nose pressed against your clit –even his nose could find work. Your pants were hot and labored, all you can let out those sharp, gorgeous whines of his name, the one you’ve grown so accustomed to.
“Arthur!”
Again.
“Fuck- fuck, Arthur–!”
His name learned to roll off your tongue like honey, it seemed to be becoming the thing that came natural to you in life. He loved it, his mouth sucking feverishly at your clit, he knew all those sweet-spots, you weren’t a religious girl, - if you were you wouldn’t be in your right mind to let Arthur do these truly sinful things to you - but you’d thank god to every whore, every woman that taught him these tricks.
Your thighs would squeeze his head til’ it was about ready to pop, though that’s just what Arthur wanted, mumbling praise into your sweet, slick folds as his fingers moved into the mix too, forcing your body to that high you’d been desperately chasing, the pad of his finger pressing against one of your soft spots.
You’d cum hard on his face, your glistening climax now coated his beard as he removed his face from your thighs, looking at your heaving, shaking body now beneath him. Resting your legs down he’d slowly lower himself back onto you, his lips kissing from your navel to your lips, his body - and yours, of course - finally feeling a bit heavy.
“You’re too good f’me, girl…”
At the moment there was not enough oxygen in your lungs to give him a vocal response, you’d just nod, your cheeks flushed a pale pink. His hand moved to brush some hair away from your face, strands stuck to your cheeks, forehead, it was a sight for him. He’d pick you up, pulling you to sit in his lap as he held you to a tight embrace, nipping and kissing at your neck. He was so needy for you.
The night had settled, only a bit. You found yourself tucked in Arthur’s arm with the warm quilt thrown on the hotel bed covering your bodies, both sore and spent.
Arthur had been flipping through the pages of his journal now, it only felt right to shamelessly show you the works he’s done of you now, of course those were only a couple.
“I stopped doin’ them for a while now… Most of them was from when I was drunk. Foolish.”
He’d explain, though it didn’t seem like it needed an explanation anymore, you didn’t care after all though you appreciated it. Your hand would reach out to touch the page, feeling the rough paper beneath your fingertips.
“I don’t mind…”
“Yeah well, maybe now you can model f’me, hm?… I’m always better working with a reference.”
You couldn’t help but giggle.
“It's a date then.”
You two had both fallen asleep shortly after, his sweet praises in your ear til your body was limp against his own, his fingers combing through your hair —a moment of intimacy and peace like this after he had fucked you so thorough. Not a thought of worry in your pretty little head.
'Cept maybe how the ride back was gonna feel on that soreness between your legs–
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan smut#red dead redemption 2#red dead fandom#ao3#dutch van der linde#fanfic#john marston#one shot#red dead redemption community#red dead redemption two#rdr2#red dead 2#smut#female reader#fem reader#x reader#reader insert#target audience#red dead redemption#red dead online#age g4p
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Simon Riley and how he talks about you.. but in the self aware universe
After he had finally gotten out if the damned game and managed to convince you that he was not some weird intruder or your imagination, he did everything he could to show that he was interested in you
He was amused by how you reacted to the most simplest of his touches- especially whenever he kissed your hand or your cheek, mumbling a small 'Thank you, luv' after you did something for him
He didn't have any friends. Soap, Price, Gaz, and all the other friends he had were nothing more than just code in a game and slowly he came to terms with that
At least he's in the real world with you now
He did try to make some and get a job as you had a job, but he couldn't exactly get one as he had no records of him even existing. Whenever you went to work, he would do the grocery shopping. You made sure to get him cash since you couldn't exactly give him his own credit card
You would come home and see your cabinets and fridge were filled to the brim with snacks and foods both of you liked
Over the few months, he eventually made a friend at the grocery store which lead to a group of them at the grocery store. God, sometimes they wished he would shut up about you. Although it was endearing, they never thought such a gruff man could speak so adoring about someone like that
Whenever something you liked ran out of stock he would ask if he could get more in the back and it got to the point where he had the same rights as an employee
They offered him a job, but of course, he didn't take it. Nothing beats his want to go back into the 141..
besides you
#cod#simon ghost riley x reader#call of duty#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader#call of duty modern warfare#simon riley x you#cod mw2#ghost x reader#gn reader#Simon Ghost Riley x reader#Simon ghost riley x reader#Simon Riley x reader#Simon riley x reader#Ghost x reader#Simon Riley x you#Simon riley x you#Simon Ghost Riley x you#Simon ghost riley x you
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Heart V
Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader
Summary: You're sick
Ingrid knew there would be health issues throughout your life. She knew that routine doctor's appointments would happen every year for you. She knew that the medication you took lowered your immune system.
She knew that at some point, you'd get sick.
She didn't realise it would be this quickly.
You woke with the sniffles which turned into a sore throat and then a headache and a bad tummy. It all spiralled from there.
It started on the weekend.
Saturday was spent going to a check up. Sunday was game day but on the drive home, you threw up all over yourself.
Monday was a day off and it was clear that you had no hope of getting better quickly. You were sniffly and tearful and it was an all-around bad time for everyone.
They take it in shifts with you. Ingrid stays with you for one half of the night. Mapi takes the rest of it.
There's twenty minute powernaps fitted in between it all when they can manage but most of their time is spent up with you as you struggle to find sleep.
"Mapi!" Ingrid calls," Come on, we've got to get to the car!"
She paces the length of the apartment with you in her arms. Your nose is all stuffy and you've woken up with the worst case of blocked ears of your life.
It's clear your ears are giving you the most grief. You whine and huff and desperately pull at them as if it will dislodge the build up in them.
Mapi's getting changed from her evening shift with you and Ingrid can do nothing but pace and pat your back in the hope of settling you back down.
It's been another bad night. You slept in short half an hour bursts in between crying, puking and crying some more.
Mapi skids into the room, still in her socks as she throws things into your bag, stocking up on medicine and water and your favourite toys. She hops around the room as she forces her shoes onto her feet before practically sprinting out of the door.
You make it to training just on time despite your awful wails the entire journey.
Patri and Pina both wince as Ingrid walks in with your sobbing form.
"What's wrong with her?"
"She's sick," Ingrid says plainly," Badly. The doctor said it's the flu."
As if to prove her point, you burst into a violent coughing fit and Mapi is instantly trying to soothe your throat with water as soon as it's over.
"Did you give her medicine?"
Ingrid angrily drops her bag into her cubby. "Oh, wow, Patri! What a revolutionary concept?! Giving medicine to my sick toddler! Why didn't we think of that?!" She snaps.
Ingrid sighs deeply as she looks at herself in the mirror.
"Sorry," She says after a long breadth of silence," I'm tired. I didn't mean to shout."
"No," Patri says quickly," You've clearly got a lot on your plate. I hope the little one feels better soon."
There's a respite briefly during training when you decide the hot Barcelona sun is perfect for napping in and you sleep under a tree nearby, wrapped up in a blanket despite the warm weather.
Mapi learnt very quickly not to fight you when you said you were cold despite the fever ravaging your body. All she can do is hope that the extra warmth breaks your fever so you can feel better when you wake up.
She's kind of happy with the outcome of your nap.
You've sweated out your fever which is good but you still feel bad. Your nose is still stuffy and you keep rubbing at your ears to unblock them.
The worst part of this now is that you've got clingier than ever before. You latch onto Mapi as soon as you see her and refuse to let go.
She's kind of glad all they're doing now is general fitness stuff because there's no way she could do anything technical with you still attached.
It's pushing it doing fitness stuff too but Mapi had come prepared.
It was an impulse purchase when you first fell sick and Ingrid had laughed until she cried when it arrived. Mapi was not dissuaded and she brought out her purchase, ignoring the snickering from Patri and Pina behind her.
With you still clingy and wanting nothing more than to crawl into Mami's skin, you let her manipulate your limbs into the toddler carrier.
She straps you in and then straps it to her chest.
She stands and has to find her balance quickly before triumphantly turning around to show everyone her solution.
They all laugh but Mapi doesn't care, not with the way you relax so easily against her and not when you fall into another fitful sleep.
#woso x reader#mapi leon x reader#mapi leon#ingrid engen x reader#ingrid engen#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso
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hello! i absolutely love your writing ☺️
lately ive just been nonstop thinking about needy bf hyunjin… like he comes home from practice with a sly grin on his face and you know exactly where he’s going. he keeps trying to tease you and get you worked up, but you hold off, trying to see if his facade will dissolve - and eventually it does, he admits how much he needs you and you just have the wettest, neediest, sloppiest soft sex ever, calling him baby and hyune as he calls you my love and angel while you cum together, chest to chest and arms wrapped around each other, emitting all the pent up love from the day. i would loveee if you could write something on this, a drabble or if possible a full piece 🫶
FEEL IT - H. HYUNJIN
-> pairing : soft dom!hyunjin x sub!reader
-> words count : 1.6 k words
-> genre : smut, established relation
-> warnings : teasing, praising, dry humping, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie
+ the way i'm depicting hyunjin does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.
-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language
-> author's note : this screams hyunjin, i loved writing this so much, these kind of intimate, steamy sex scenes are my favourites to write ! i hope you'll like it <3
-> masterlist | skz masterlist
You were always eager to go back home early when you knew Hyunjin would come by after practice. Firstly, because you were just glad to leave work, and secondly - and mostly - because your boyfriend was always needy when he just danced for hours, desperate to release the pressure, especially if he hadn’t seen you in a few days. So when he walked into your apartment with that smirk on his lips and that look in his eyes, you immediately knew what he wanted. And he would get it, obviously, but for once you wanted to tease him a little, wanted to see if you could get him to crack before you.
As usual, Hyunjin came to where you were standing in front of the kitchen counter, cutting up vegetables for the dish you were planning on making for dinner, and his hands immediately wrapped around your waist. Soon enough, you felt his lips ghosting over the nape of your neck, his long hair brushing against your skin and making you shiver.
“- How was your day Hyune ?
- Good, we worked well on the new choreo, but I struggled to get some moves at first.”
You hummed as you tried to stay focused on not chopping your fingers off while Hyunjin let his hands slide underneath the hem of the shirt you were wearing. He asked about your own day, but it was hard for you to concentrate when he had pressed his whole body against your back, letting you feel his already hard cock.
“- You smell so good, my love. I missed you.
- I missed you too Hyune.”
You turned around to kiss his cheek and then walked past him to grab the spices you needed to season your vegetables. You could feel Hyunjin gaze on you, and you almost laughed at seeing the obvious frown on his face. Normally, you would let him do whatever he wanted, no questions asked. So why were you ignoring him like that today ?
“- I’m making some fried rice for dinner, sounds good ?
- You know damn well that it’s not what I wanna eat tonight.”
Hyunjin was now pouting as he got closer to you again, not letting you get away from him as he held your waist tightly, his other hand grabbing your face. You looked up at him with the best confused expression you had in stock.
“- What do you mean ? Do you want to order instead ? Or I can make something different if you want.”
Your boyfriend groaned, slowly realizing what game you were playing. He was always the one to make you break first, to make you admit that you wanted him. If all it took was for him to tell you that he needed you, he would.
“- I’m not hungry for food my love, I’m hungry for you. Can’t you feel it ?”
Hyunjin pulled you closer to him, your thigh now pressed against his boner, his eyes glazed by lust as you dived into them. This time, it was on your face that a smirk appeared. You finally wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing his face inches apart from yours, your lips brushing against his when you talked.
“- I know. But can’t I tease my boyfriend a little ?
- Not when I’m horny. And not when I haven’t touched your gorgeous body in days.”
Sensing that his cheesy comment would probably earn him a side eye from your part, Hyunjin decided to simply lean down and press a kiss on your lips - something he had been dying to do ever since he spotted you in the kitchen when he got home. And you let him take control, melting against his mouth as his tongue started to dance sensually with yours. Hyunjin always kissed you in a way that left you dizzy and wanting more, in a way that had you melting in his embrace. And as one of his hands came up to settle at the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair, you whined against his mouth, definitely wet by now.
“- I need you Hyune.”
Your words were enough for Hyunjin to lift you up bridal style and carry you to the bedroom. He was far too impatient to care about closing the curtains, simply dropping you on top of the sheets and immediately laying on top of you, his lips finding yours again in an even messier, sloppier kiss. Hyunjin pushed your legs apart, settling between your thighs with his hard on pressing against your clothed core and he didn’t wait a second before he started to grind against you, drowning your little whimpers and his moans by passionately making out with you.
You tangled your fingers in his hair, trying to bring him closer to you if that was even possible, bringing his lips back to yours every time he tried to step away to breathe. And Hyunjin moaned every time you tugged on his black strand, only speeding up his moves against you, the friction against your clit feeling so good after days without him. His and your lips were red and puffy by now, but it only made him prettier.
“- Wanna fuck you so bad my love, but I can’t stop… Feels so good.
- Don’t stop, please…”
So Hyunjin didn’t, resuming his kisses with even more intensity than before. You could feel drool pooling at the corner of your lips and dripping down to the pillows underneath your head, but you couldn’t care less when Hyunjin was rutting his hips against your own, a noticeable wet spot on his sweatpants being the proof of how turned on he was. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing, aching for your boyfriend’s cock, but at the same time, you were so close to the edge that you were ready to wait a little bit.
“- Hyune, I’m close…
- Me too… Shit, you’re gonna make me cum in my pants.”
Hyunjin’s hands left your cheeks that he was holding to grip at your waist, grinding into you harder and bringing the both of you to your orgasm. You threw your head back when pleasure overtook you, mewling his name as Hyunjin moaned yours, unable to stop himself from driving you and him to overstimulation. When you looked at him again, his face was flushed, his hair was a mess and a layer of sweat was covering his forehead, making him even hotter if that was even possible.
“- Are you going to let me fuck you now my love ?
- Please baby”
He smiled at you while he helped you remove your shorts and underwear, already licking his lips at the sight of your glistening folds, the thought of finally burying his head in between your thighs plaguing his mind. But he could do that later, for now he wanted to feel you clench around him, and to hear you moan his name again and again. As Hyunjin got rid of his clothes too, you threw your shirt away, grabbing his hands to pull him closer to you as soon as he was naked too and his lips found yours once again. As he devoured your mouth, Hyunjin pushed his cock inside of you, drowning out your moans and his by kissing you harder.
“- You feel so good, so wet and tight around me angel
- Feels so good too Hyune, love your cock !
- Fuck… You’re gonna be the death of me.”
Hyunjin buried his head in the crook of your neck as he snapped his hips forward, eliciting another whimper out of you. The lewd sounds he made with every sloppy thrust inside of your cunt were echoing in the room, mixing with your high-pitched whines and his pretty, airy moans. You were feeling so good, desire overtaking every one of your senses and the only thought in your mind being Hyunjin and the way he was fucking you into oblivion.
No words were needed anymore as you wrapped your legs around his waist, Hyunjin adjusting the angle of his hips so that he could hit your sweet spot with every one of his thrusts. He was staring up directly at your face, admiring how gorgeous you looked when you were losing yourself in the pleasure he gave you. Your hands found his, intertwining your fingers to seek even more contact with his hot skin. You were both sweaty, but you didn’t care - you needed to feel as close as possible to him. And his chest pressed against yours, his forehead resting against yours - that wasn’t enough. You needed him to know how much you desired him, how much you loved him.
“- I love you.”
Hyunjin answered with a loud moan, his eyes closing shut as his orgasm washed over him. His thrusts became even sloppier, even messier, but all you needed to cum was to see his ecstatic face, hearing his beautiful voice whining out your name like a prayer. Your nails dug into the back of his hands that you were still holding as you came, squeezing his fingers so tight it sent a tingle of pain through your body. You came down from your high to Hyunjin pushing away some strands of your hair that had stuck to your forehead. You were still trying to breathe normally again when your boyfriend kissed you lazily.
“- I love you too angel, so much.
- I know baby.”
He smiled at you, and your heartbeat that just got steady again was going crazy suddenly. Sometimes, you wondered how it was possible for someone to be this handsome. Sometimes you wondered how you ever got that lucky to get to be with him every day.
“- Can you still make fried rice, though ? I’m really hungry, for food this time.”
The smirk playing on his lips made you giggle as you ruffled his hair even more.
“- Only if you help me.
- Of course my love.”
-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.
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Dancing with Devils
Requested By: @midnightskyeneko
Word Count: 3,856
Summary: While everyone is gone, you put on some music to clean the House of Lamentation and the characters catch you dancing/singing. The Demon Brothers + The Dateables (Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, and Solomon)
You rarely had the opportunity to have the House of Lamentation to yourself. Usually, at least one or more of the brothers were there, desperately trying to gain your attention.
Today, though, everyone had plans. Lucifer had something to take care of at RAD and was the first to leave this morning.
Mammon had a photo shoot and you vaguely recalled him sprinting out of the house this morning, shouting something about oversleeping.
Levi was going to a fan convention today and left the house stocked up with anything and everything he could think of to bring.
Satan had been asked to speak at a highly esteemed book club. He even practiced what he was going to say there on you to make sure it sounded educated.
Asmo had planned a long day at the spa. Massage, facial, mani/pedi. He was planning on doing it all and you were sure you wouldn’t see him until tomorrow.
There was a big Fangol game coming up so Beel wanted to hit the gym and get some extra training in to make sure he was in perfect shape for it.
Unfortunately for Belphie, Beel had begged him to go with him to the gym. He needed a spotter and as much as Belphie wanted to sleep, he couldn’t say no when his twin asked him so desperately.
So it was a quiet day in the House of Lamentation for you. And as much as you wanted to take the day and do whatever you wanted, you had some chores to get done first.
The more you looked around the house though, the more you saw how neglected it was. Dust coating bookshelves, crumbs on the table from meals, the brothers’ clothes strewn about. Barbatos would be livid.
You remembered one time when Barbatos came over and found a rat in the House of Lamentation. He was so furious that day and the threats he made sent a shiver down your spine. He swore if he ever found one again he would burn down the house.
You quickly moved to your room and grabbed the speaker that Levi had gifted you. You turned on some music and decided that you would spend the day cleaning. The house gravely needed it.
At first, the music was mere background noise to keep you motivated to continue the task at hand. But, the more cleaning you got done, the more you had fun with the music.
Eventually, you started singing and dancing to the music. You were shameless in your performance as you cleaned because you knew the house was empty.
Lucifer had come home from RAD with his arms full of paperwork. He had a lot to do and intended to start on it as soon as he got back to the House of Lamentation.
But, the second he stepped inside the house, he was distracted by your figure bounding around the living room while you sang and danced to the music that was playing.
Lucifer was taken aback at first, but soon a smile was breaking out across his lips as he watched you. You looked so happy.
At some point, Lucifer had set down his paperwork in favor of paying you all of his attention. He could catch up later.
You finished dusting off the last bookshelf in the living room just as the song had ended and you let out a gasp as you heard someone clapping behind you.
A deep blush coated your cheeks as you came face to face with Lucifer who was smirking at you.
“That was quite the performance,” Lucifer stated, taking a few steps closer to you. A slow song had started playing on the speaker now, but your music was long forgotten - replaced by your embarrassment.
Lucifer stopped in front of you and held his hand out toward you. You looked up at him in surprise before placing your hand in his.
Lucifer pulled you close to him, his hand resting on your back as you placed your hand on his shoulder.
He smiled down at you as the two of you began waltzing around the room and you let out a small chuckle as he spun you around before bringing you back into his arms.
You laid your head on his chest as the song began to come to a close and Lucifer’s arms only tightened around you.
“My brothers can finish cleaning,” Lucifer stated, not ready to let you go. He wanted to spend the rest of the night with you and you knew how Lucifer was when it came to something he wanted. He was hardly ever defied.
By the time Mammon had gotten back to the House of Lamentation, he was tired and wanted nothing more than to see his human.
It didn’t matter if he had been dragged through the nine circles of Hell, you always found a way to make him feel better and more energized.
But he was not expecting to find you in the way he did when he entered the dorm.
You had no idea he was there, singing and dancing to your heart’s content. And Mammon was biting his lip to keep from laughing.
The music covered up any noises that he did make, allowing him to remain a secret bystander.
You were doing the most ridiculous dance moves and Mammon was loving every second of it.
You turned around to face a new direction when you and Mammon suddenly made eye contact. You immediately froze in your spot, your eyes wide and blushing furiously as Mammon finally let out the laughter he had been containing.
Well - there was no going back from this now. He had already seen your dance moves and he was going to tease you no matter what you did. So, you might as well finish enjoying the moment.
You motioned for Mammon to join you and now he was the one blushing. He refused at first until you gently grabbed his hands, pulling him into the middle of the room.
Mammon avoided your gaze as he scratched the back of his neck nervously. He took another moment to contemplate his decision before breaking out into his own set of dance moves.
They were equally as ridiculous as yours were and it instantly made you forget about your embarrassment as you both broke into loud laughter, continuing to dance with each other.
Lucifer came home during your and Mammon’s concert performance and was torn between laughing at the scene and questioning why that was his brother.
Levi had spent a lot of time at the convention, so he was expecting everyone to be home when he got back.
Imagine his surprise when instead of being met with his brothers, he was met with the sound of music playing loudly somewhere in the House of Lamentation.
Normally, the first thing Levi wanted to do when he got home was go straight to his room. But unfortunately for him, his curiosity was too strong and he found himself wandering towards the noise.
That’s when he found you singing and twirling as you cleaned the house. Levi let out a small gasp as he was torn between covering his eyes and watching you.
He felt like this was something that wasn’t meant for his eyes but he also couldn’t look away.
When you finally noticed his presence, you weren’t sure if you were more embarrassed or if he was as you both began blushing.
You were stuck in a stalemate trying to figure out who would be the first to move when suddenly a song from one of Levi’s favorite animes came on.
You could see the excitement in his eyes when the music came on and you encouraged him to dance with you.
He couldn’t - it would be way too embarrassing. But, then again, there was no one else home and he had already seen you dance. If you decided to say something to one of his brothers, he could turn it around on you.
You had somehow managed to convince him to dance with you and Levi had stolen the show.
Never doubt an otaku’s dancing skills.
Satan came home in a good mood. His speech at the book club had gone very well and the first thing he wanted to do when he came home was to come find you and thank you for your help.
If it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t have been as confident going into that meeting.
He heard music coming from the library and immediately went to the room to find you prancing around as you picked up miscellaneous books and placed them in their rightful place on the shelf.
You held a duster in your hand so you could dust off the shelves as well and you sometimes used it as a microphone, to which Satan couldn’t help but chuckle.
Normally, a library was meant to be a quiet place, but Satan was grateful that today was an exception.
You climbed a small ladder to reach the top of one of the shelves, your hips swaying to the music and Satan couldn’t help but stare at you with admiration.
As the song came to an end, you felt a presence to your left and slowly turned to look.
Seeing Satan standing there made you jump and lose your grip on the ladder. You braced for impact but you were only met with Satan’s arms as he caught you.
He gently set you down on the ground and you avoided his gaze as your cheeks were bright red. Not only had Satan caught you singing and dancing, but you also just fell in front of him. Your embarrassment was at its peak right now.
Noticing your discomfort, Satan gently grabbed your hand before spinning you around. You bit back a smile as you came back around to face Satan who was watching you with excited eyes.
The two of you fell into an easy dance and you soon forgot about your embarrassment from being caught dancing.
After the dance, Satan led you to the couch in the library and pulled you into his lap, pulling out a book.
As much as he loved watching you move around, now he just wants to hold you in his arms.
He hoped you couldn’t hear how loud his heart was beating while you were sitting on his lap.
Asmodeus had come home feeling very relaxed after his trip to the spa. He only wished that you had been there with him.
When he got home and saw you dancing and singing, Asmo immediately started smiling.
He would be the quickest out of everyone to join you in your performance.
He came up behind you and gently wrapped his arms around you, making you tense up slightly until you realized who it was.
“Oh - I didn’t realize you were home,” you admitted a bit sheepishly, slightly embarrassed as Asmo pulled out of the hug.
Asmo smiled as he took your hand and began dancing with you around the room. He tried to show you some dance moves from the Devildom while you showed him some from the human world.
You were both enjoying the closeness of the encounter and Asmo never made you feel embarrassed for dancing in front of him.
He also noticed how spotless the House of Lamentation looked and as the two of you began to wind down, he immediately suggested giving you your own personal spa day for all your hard work.
He spent the rest of the night pampering you and making sure to pay extra attention to your hands and feet since you had been cleaning for so long.
Asmo can’t help the smile that rests on his face as he thinks about the two of you dancing together in perfect rhythm. Like the two of you were made for each other!
Next time though, he’ll suggest the two of you try a dance you didn’t get to do - the horizontal tango.
Beel had just finished his long training session and he was starving.
There was only one thing on his mind when he got home - food.
He immediately went to the kitchen to most likely eat everything inside of it. But he stopped when he saw you there.
He watched as you moved around as if you didn’t have a care in the world, and he couldn’t help but enjoy seeing this side of you.
The thought of food had temporarily escaped Beel’s mind as he felt entranced by you.
But even though his mind wasn’t focused on his current problem, his body didn’t forget the pain it was in.
A loud growl suddenly erupted from his stomach and you let out a small, startled shout as you turned to face the source of the noise.
You had a hand on your heart as you and Beel made eye contact and he looked down at the floor abashedly knowing he had been caught staring.
“You don’t have to stop,” Beel told you, silently hoping that you would continue. He was enjoying watching you dance around like you were having the time of your life.
You gave Beel a small smile, knowing that he would never judge you or make fun of you.
You pulled a snack out of the fridge and handed it to Beel before continuing what you were doing.
Beel happily ate his food as he enjoyed the performance, occasionally offering you his hand to twirl you around before returning to his snack.
Once he was done eating, he offered to help you clean the kitchen and you noticed him moving the slightest bit to the music as he did so.
As soon as the kitchen was clean, Beel wanted to spend more time with you doing other things.
Belphie had gone to the gym with Beel out of twin obligation. But, it didn’t take long for Belphie to get tired and want to go home.
He really did his best to try and help Beel with his workout. But - surely at this point his brother wouldn’t notice if he slipped out of the gym and went home right?
Belphie decided it would be worth the risk and managed to complete his plan. He immediately went home, hoping you would be there so that he could take you to the attic for a nap.
To his surprise, you were already in the attic when he got home, but you were far from ready for a nap. You were bustling with energy as you moved around the room singing and dancing.
You didn’t notice that Belphie had entered the room and you didn’t notice that he had made his way to the bed in the attic, his eyes glued to you the entire time.
Belphie didn’t want to ruin the show, so he simply laid down, thinking this would be a good view to fall asleep to. It would definitely give him good dreams.
Except he couldn’t bring himself to actually fall asleep. He was too enticed by you to close his eyes. He didn’t want to miss a single moment of your dancing and singing.
You let out a small shout when you turned around and saw Belphie lying on the bed, lazily smiling at you.
You immediately paused the music as your cheeks began to turn red.
“Belphie…I didn’t know you were back,” you told him, shuffling awkwardly next to the bed.
“You’re a good dancer,” Belphie replied with a small smirk, only adding to your embarrassment.
He pulled you into the bed with him and immediately laid on top of you before asking, “Do you have any other moves you want to show me?”
You had decided Belphie was determined to try and kill you…again.
Diavolo had come to the House of Lamentation in search of Lucifer. He had knocked politely on the front door, but when no one came to answer it, he got a bit worried.
He heard music playing from inside the house and decided to enter. Lucifer wouldn’t mind if he entered the house if no one had greeted him.
And, if something had happened then it was his responsibility as the future demon king to try and help.
His worries were immediately dispelled though when he saw you dancing around the house as you joyfully cleaned.
A large smile spread across Diavolo’s lips as he watched you, completely entertained by you.
He wondered how a human managed to gain such a strong hold over his heart.
When you noticed Diavolo standing there, you were immediately blushing. You had just embarrassed yourself in front of royalty.
“Diavolo - sorry, I didn’t see you there,” you stated, turning the music down just a bit.
“Apologies - I didn’t mean to intrude. No one answered the door and I was worried,” Diavolo replied.
“Oh, I must not have heard it. Everyone else is gone right now,” you responded and an idea lit up Diavolo’s eyes.
He graciously took your hand in his and pulled you to him. “If no one else is here, then we’ll just have to have some fun of our own,” he told you with a charming smile before moving around the room with you.
Once the initial shock had passed, you found it easy to dance with Diavolo and the moment had turned into an intimate one as you locked eyes with each other.
But then Lucifer came home and interrupted, confused as to what was happening. Did he have a meeting with Lord Diavolo that he somehow missed?
Diavolo was disappointed that the moment was ruined, but he was determined to dance with you again.
Don’t ask questions when he throws an impromptu ball a few days later.
Barbatos had been sent to the House of Lamentation on Diavolo’s orders.
To be honest, since that incident with the rat, Barbatos dreaded coming to the house. But he would never refuse his Lord’s request.
He could tell something was different immediately upon entry to the house. He couldn’t see any dirt or anything that had been misplaced. And it smelled strangely good. Not like food but something else.
Barbatos followed the sound of the music that he heard and all of his questions had been answered when he saw you doing a mix of cleaning and dancing.
Part of him was a bit angry that you were doing all of the cleaning yourself. Couldn’t the brothers at least be bothered to help? Most of it was their mess after all.
You let out a small gasp as Barbatos made his presence known. His intention wasn’t to embarrass you but rather to help you clean. He is the best at it and he couldn’t stand the idea of you doing everything on your own.
You were grateful for the help and the fact that he hadn’t mentioned the dancing.
Even though he didn’t bring it up, Barbatos was replaying your moves in his head. He couldn’t help but cherish the memory as he was the only one there to witness it.
He does attempt to get you to dance and sing some more while he’s there. So he takes the first step by gently moving to the music while he cleans.
You didn’t understand how he could look so perfect doing both tasks at once.
When the two of you made eye contact, you understood the want behind Barbatos’ eyes and soon you joined in with him.
This would be your guys’ little secret.
Simeon was graceful in everything he did. Maybe it was a perk of being an angel - or maybe it was because Simeon was just that perfect.
Either way, one of those things he was graceful at was dancing. Though he didn’t do it too often. Mostly because he rarely had the opportunity to do so.
Simeon had come by the House of Lamentation to ask you a question, and he was so glad that he chose this exact moment to come by.
He watched you with pure love and admiration as you danced around the house. He wondered if you knew how graceful you looked.
Simeon wasn’t afraid to join you and gently grabbed your hand, catching your attention.
You didn’t have time to feel embarrassed as Simeon carefully took you into his arms and started dancing around the room with you.
He noted the way you moved with him and hoped that he would never have to find a different dance partner.
You had a small blush on your cheeks but allowed Simeon to lead you in the dance.
Your chores were long forgotten about as Simeon looked into your eyes, pink dusting his cheeks as well at your closeness.
If he could have you in his arms forever, he would never want anything else.
Simeon had a small frown on his lips as you both heard the front door open signifying at least one of the brothers had come home.
He let out a small gasp as you took his hand and led him to your room. You needed to spend at least a little more time with the angel before you said your goodbyes for the night.
Solomon was a very good dancer.
He had been alive long enough to know almost every kind of dance that had been created - save for the new dances that you showed him on TikTok.
Solomon is one who actually enjoys dancing so when he came to the House of Lamentation and saw you dancing about, he was very pleased.
He wanted to join in, but he also wanted to stand back and watch. It was a mix of wanting to simply admire you and wanting to dance with you.
He didn’t have much of a choice though, because you almost immediately noticed Solomon’s presence and you stopped dancing as soon as you did.
Solomon found the flustered look on your face completely adorable and he instantly moved to your side.
“Was that one of your ‘TikTok’ dances?” Solomon asked and you nodded slightly, your blush deepening.
“Let me show you one of my dances,” Solomon offered with a smile as he suddenly pulled you into a dance.
You let out a small gasp as you flew into his arms and he seamlessly guided you around the room. You had no idea what dance you were doing, but somehow you were doing it.
You saw the grin that Solomon was wearing while he danced with you and you couldn’t help but smile back at him.
When you finished dancing, Solomon asked if he could take you out. And as much as you wanted to go, you had to finish cleaning before the brothers got back.
Solomon doesn’t find that to be a problem though because with a snap of his fingers, everything was magically clean. Now you could go!
As you left with Solomon you made a mental note to ask him to do that trick again for you next time, instead of you spending your entire day cleaning.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me x reader#obey me x MC#headcannons#imagines#oneshots#obey me imagines#obey me fanfiction#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzbub#obey me belphegor#obey me nightbringer#obey me brothers#obey me writing#obey me scenarios#obey me levi#obey me belphie#obey me beel#obey me asmo#obey me mc#anime#fandomsxreader
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Cowboy like me -Philip Graves
creds: @/vhenan_virabelesan on instagram
Based on a request:
i need more graves in my life. like southern cowboy graves who finds veteran reader one day in line for food or something and he just can’t help but talk to her until the blood rushes to his face and flushes red. need graves who never thought he would settle down or get married until he finds himself staring at rings after dating you for 8 months. philip who cherishes his fiery girl by winning stock shows and buying her a new mercedes just because. reader asking him how she can pay him back and he asks her to move in. philip who holds reader so so close to his body, never wanting to hurt her while his cock throbs into her. caressing her hair and clicking his tongue whenever she breaks eyes contact from his good he feels. philip being called away for a two month deployment all of a sudden. two months feel like two years until he can see his beloved peeing the ranch goats and chasing chickens back into their coop. philip who finally gets home and uses his rank to skip the welcome home ceremony, wanting to surprise reader at home since it’s late at night and him speeding home because they’re not going to live their lives through the phone. driving like a maniac until he feels the grind of gravel against rubber and the familiar low glow of the wooden house, until he holds onto her body like how oxygen embeds itself into his lungs. i need him so bad ---- F!Reader, fluff, some smut, boyfriend!Graves, cowboy!Graves, P-in-V, soft sex, soft!dom Graves, veteran!Reader ---- A/N: this is how I know you are a Graves lover, so please my dear..enjoy :)
You moved to the countryside, a small town and a pair of old boots. Life is calm, away from that old and rowdy one you lived as a soldier. This time around, you were told about some new small restaurant in town, decided to check it out and that's when all the stars aligned. He walks in, three days into his break from a long deployment and then, his eyes meet your frame. A small smile on him. Never did he see another woman like you in his part of town. Not as pretty or as captivating. His cowboy hat by his chest as he admired you. You, unaware, order your meal, eager to taste something new.
He walked closer, and the cashier asked for your name. "R/N," you said and he smiles. What a precious name. For days after, he returned to that small restaurant, walked around town and frequented many shops and then he stopped walking. There you were, getting what he assumed was your truck loaded with gravel and some other stuff. You were a local then. He knew the man from the shop, asked around and soon he realised you were the woman who bought a property close to his. Ain't it funny. Your herd dog ran away and into his property, what a fun time Philip would have.
"I'm sorry, he…is a bit of a runner," you chuckle as you get your dog in the truck. "No worries, hun. I'm Philip," he extends his hand and you shake it. "I'm R/N, a pleasure to meet you," you smile. "So, what is a pretty lady like you doing 'ere?" You chuckle, your hat being the perfect sunblock for this sunny day. "I own this land," you answer and he smiles more. "Ah, so that means you aren't just a pretty lady with a dog, that makes you my pretty lil neighbour," he gets closer. You couldn't deny it, he had his charm and it worked on you. "What if instead of keeping you out on this Sun, I keep you out, say Friday night at around 8 pm?" Oh that smile on him, what a dangerous game it played.
And so you accepted. You played the dangerous game with him and it turned into something so calm and beautiful. Now, instead of spending his days or weeks off work alone, he spends them with you. He got to know you, understand you and love all of you. Every day, there he was, at your front porch, wildflowers at hand from his part of the land. Every day, there you were, at the front door, ready to greet him with a kiss. It never was the fact he could buy store flowers, it was the intention, to always bring them to you, pretty or not, he took his time every day to pick them out, to think, 'She'll like them, yeah…this one is perfect,' that is the beauty of him. And, you always fell even deeper for him. That smile, the same one he saw every morning, gave him more reason to go around, plant flowers on his land and when they grow, he will cut them and hand them to you.
It's what all lovers did before him. His eyes, my my my, were they enchanting to look at. He never meant to be a husband, to come home to his pretty lady, to love. He was meant to be a soldier, a commander and to watch himself die sometime far from today, in some dangerous place. Today, he walks around, looks at rings and shakes his head anytime the lady at the jewellery place asks if he likes that ring. "No, don't think my darling would fit this, I need something more…more beautiful…something that matches her beauty, so let's keep looking." But that was a game to never be won. In his mind, no diamond would match your beauty, it just had to at least resemble your natural looks.
His friends were all teasing him for falling in love. It's not bad, they reassure, it's…new..it changed you for the better, they all admit. When he introduces you to them, they all look at each other. "Oh, it makes more sense," one says and the rest agree. You did change him, he has become someone everyone admires more, and he has more reason to do certain stuff now. You and him, it is possibly the healthiest of loves he or you had. The warm feeling in your chest, that feels right. The compliments from his mother, his father and siblings, all feel too well. And you know that maybe you are right, maybe this is love. It's love in the beautiful, the ugly, the immature things you two laugh at, the stare his friends give when they know he find his forever person. It is real…it's love for what humans know love to be.
"My dear, c'mon, calm down," his voice soft, hands on your body as you argue over something that happened at a store. "Babe, you don't get it. That man…ooh that man do I dislike him!" He chuckles, "You know what the deal was and what he said was right-" "No, no it wasn't and you know what, shame on you for backing him up." You push him. "No, don't do that, we don't do that. If I fuck up, you correct me and I do the same for you, we fix each other that way." You huff out and cross your arms. He was right, you did that and now he had to do the same. Anytime he said or did something that wasn't right, you corrected him and he listened and apologised and did better next time. Now, here you were, having to be in his situation. "Sorry…it's just…why…why would that man do that- you're right..sorry"
"It's over, let's move on," his arms wrap around you and you sigh. "I love you," he reminds you and you smile. Your arms now wrapping around him. "I love you too," you whisper and get comfortable in his arms. Slowly, this became the norm, talk it out, don't yell but talk, it's simple and it's what keeps it all comfortable.
Christmas, ten months into loving you, he buys and gifts you a car. Lavish and all for you. For what reason? No motive, he just felt the need to give it. You, being someone who can't just accept these nice acts, shove the keys back to him. "Nope, nope…Phil, you can't just give me this." He shakes his head, "I can and it's rude to deny a gift, my love," he walks to you, the smile on him again. Was he a wizard? To have you so enchanted by his smile? "But-…how can I repay this? This is too much, Phil-" A kiss, is all it took to have you calm down and let him love you more. "Move in, that's all I ask of you." He says between kisses and you smile. Of course, now that is the man you know. A mastermind for a fiance? Now that is something to have yourself get accustomed to.
By Spring, he and you married.
By Summer, he had your back arched, your body and his pressed against each other as he repeatedly made love to you. His cock, deep inside of you as your milked him for every last drop. Your hands, wrapped around his back, owning him and marking him with scratches, ones he would proudly wear. His hands caress your body as if you were some angelic creature. Your eyes close once your body starts to feel euphoric, its pleasure to the greatest it can be. Philip's kisses trail from your lips to your collarbone. Your tits bounce with each thrust he gave you, your eyes closed and then he grabs your face with force. "Don't you dare look away, my love, not now," he grunts and moans.
His fat cock stretches your tight cunt to its limit. You let our whimpers, your orgasm building up slowly. "That's it, be a good girl-" he grips your face again. "Tsk, what i say?" He kisses you and once he is done with your lips, he ensures your gaze never leaves his. Your drunken stare is the one thing that is making him last so long. Your juices leak all over him, his cum deep inside of you, making sure to leave you leaking. It was his way of saying goodbye as he went on yet another operation. Your cunt, throbbing for the abuse and love your dear husband gave you over and over. It was perfection, it is love that he makes to you on a night like this.
Your teary eyes, make him frown and apologise. "I'm sorry, I know…I know darling." he cups your face with his warm hands and kisses you all over that precious pouty face. Your tears dried by his lips. Love is an action or emotion. Right now, in this bed made up of two drunken lovers, he made sure to teach you that he was not like any of the past men you loved. He was sure of it because no other man-made you cum with a stare, a touch, or a lick of your precious and delicious cunt. He isn't most men, he is your man, your other half, the one that has you whimpering over his size. The one that has you lighting candles for when he comes back home.
After that night, he was gone for some time. Not much contact besides the small talk on texts or the quick calls from the base. It was an eternity, to not have him by your side, to not watch you fall over as you tried to feed the animals on the ranch. It was a long night when you didn't have him wrap his arms around you and whisper sweet nothings. But it was the rule, wait and I'll be back to love you more. You were his patient lover, like a woman back in the day, waiting all day for her man. And the second came with the view of the joint estates, he smiles. His pretty darling, his home and all those crazy animals, all waiting for him.
His mates at the base, all begged him to wait just a little longer but he couldn't not when he yearned to be in your arms. He didn't care, it didn't matter if they all wanted a sit-down cookout to celebrate a triumph of an operation. You mattered. You see, the thought of you, laying in bed, with an empty side, his pillow used as a teddy bear as you await for him, that was an image he couldn't let happen anymore. His truck, rushed through the night all to get a glimpse, a touch, a whisper and an 'I love you' from you.
The door, swung open as he hurried up the stairs and into the bedroom. The floor creaks under his step as he silents himself from excitement when he sees your precious face. It was a rush, it's love and glee to know he came home, came home to you. "R/N, doll..I'm home," he whispers as he gently stirs you awake. That smile of yours, oh it can melt a man as mean and cold as him. "Hi," your voice is so soft and small. "Hi," he responds and sits on the edge, watching as you crawl into his arms. "Did you miss me?" but of course, he knew that answer. You nod and bury your face on his chest. What was once an empty bed, is now a bed full of two. Two crazed people, two hearts, one home. "Oh I missed you more," he rubs your back and notices how your body relaxes. He holds you close, so close that it's as if he wants your body to become one.
His boots are under the bed as he settles in with you. Your warmth wrapped him in an embrace. This, this is all he ever needed. It wasn't some drunk one-night stand, it wasn't cheap love or cheap sex. No one could afford this. Don't think he even understood how much he had to afford this kind of love but he can and that is all that matters now.
A/N: I love cowboys....and I love cowboy Graves
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You have to do it! Grocery shopping with Quinn! 🛒 ☺️
Because of those shopping gifs, huh? I know the ones!
"Ready, babe?" Quinn spoke louder than his usual, putting on his flat-billed hat in the mirror while he waited for you at the door. He had been ready to go for a few minutes but would never purposefully rush you, especially for something as mundane as grocery shopping. He really didn't want to go but the house was looking a little bare and the fridge was near depleted of anything fresh. It was simply time to go.
Quinn had told you that he was fine going solo but you had insisted on keeping him company, and didn't think it fair to make him go alone when you used equally as much of everything as he did, if not more especially when he was on the road.
"Yeah, I'm ready!" You said, hurrying from somewhere else in the apartment. You were still buttoning your coat when you got to his side.
"You look cute," he commented, wrapping his arms around you for a moment.
You smiled, "Thanks, babe! You don't look too bad yourself!"
Quinn would laugh and give you a quick kiss before opening the door for you. You had no idea where the two of you were headed, but anywhere with Quinn was a good place to be. Outside, it was much colder than it was normally due to the Artic blast moving through the region, and it made being outside quite uncomfortable. Thankfully, you wouldn't have too far to walk, in any of your errand stops, but when the air hurt to breathe -- it was never ideal.
"I don't think I've ever missed the rain so much in my life," you joked, climbing into the passenger seat.
"This isn't my favourite either," he replied clicking both seat warmers on as soon as the car was started. "Won't take long now. You know you can stay home, babe. No sense in you being cold if you don't have to."
"I know, but I don't want you to go alone!"
Quinn shook his head as he smiled, "Babe--"
"I know, I know, you don't mind," you mocked him playfully. "But I mind, so I'm going with you!"
"You're ridiculous," he laughed. "Alright, well, if you're sure. Off we go."
- - -
"I'm going to drop you at the door then I'll go find a parking spot," Quinn said, pulling into the lot. "And before you say anything, I want you to go inside and be warm."
Mustering the deepest pout you could, you looked at Quinn as the car came to a stop, but he wasn't having any part of it. "Quinn--"
"Babe, just trust me, please."
"Fiiiiiine," you whined, slipping out of the car and going into the store alone. You'd stay just inside the automatic doors and wait to see where he parked. Everyone and their mothers seemed to be out shopping today, forcing Quinn to have to park in the near back lot. He looked so miserable as he rushed toward the store, trying to duck down in to his coat as his hands were buried in his pockets. When the double doors opened, he'd make his way to you, his cheeks red from the harsh air.
"Brrr!" Quinn remarked, putting an arm around you. "It's cold in here, too!"
"Says the hockey player!"
He laughed, sheepishly, "It's not that cold on the ice like it is outside!"
"Fair enough," you teased. "Basket or cart?"
"Probably cart. Stock you up before I go out of town next week."
You looked down at being reminded that Quinn would soon be leaving for more games away from home. Your bed wouldn't be as warm, there would be no one to share a bath with before bed, no one to laugh with over dinner in the evenings, and the apartment would soon be deafly quiet. Being unable to keep your expression from dropping, you would turn your face away from him for a moment to keep from crying in public.
Quinn, always in tune with your usual moods would notice this change and would ask you about it after returning from getting you both a cart. "You got quiet, babe. What's wrong?"
"Nothing," you mumbled, picking up a random item to look at it as if you were interested in taking it home.
"I didn't think you liked peanut butter," he quipped, leaning over your shoulder at the package of fudge you were holding.
"I-- don't," you said, unable to lie, and putting it back on the display you had robbed it from. Your cover was blown before you could even get behind it. Damn Quinn for being so quick sometimes, though you knew he hated when you kept things from you, namely when things were bothering you.
"Did I say something?" Quinn questioned, his hand resting on your waist, hoping you'd look at him.
"No, baby, it's me being sad over you leaving," you finally confessed, only looking at him after you had spoken your truth. "I'm just-- being a baby."
"You're my baby," he would whisper in your ear, in the hopes that it might make you smile if only because of how cringe it had been. "I know you don't like when I leave, and trust me, I know how it feels."
Your eyes were beginning to sting, fighting against your emotions, "I know it's your job, Quinn. I'm not trying to be one of those girls who comes off all spoiled and selfish. I just-- I just miss you."
Quinn smiled, bringing his lips to your forehead while you still faced him. "I know you do, and I don't think you're being selfish. You understand that this is my life. No one says it's easy, sweetheart."
With a sigh you leaned into him, face buried in the curve of his neck. At the moment, you didn't care that you were in public, having an episode of emotional weakness. You were in Quinn's arms and safe, everyone else could kick rocks. They didn't need to understand.
"Do you want to go home, babe?" He asked, leaning his head against yours.
You wouldn't answer him, you'd just shake your head slightly.
"For what it's worth, I'm not gone yet," he said with a smile in his tone.
This would get you to pull your eyes back to his. He had a point, and one that you were thankful for.
"I sorry, Quinn," you apologized solemnly. "I shouldn't be that way."
He kissed you again, knowing it often fixed things when you were feeling down, but he felt that you were struggling. "You're perfectly fine. I should be more careful with my words."
"You don't need to do that. I'll be okay. Maybe one day it won't hurt as bad-- but...I dunno."
Frowning, Quinn would touch your cheek, but his hands were cold. You'd take it in both of yours and try your best to give him a smile. "I love you. Sorry you have to put up with me like this."
"I just hope I help instead of making you sad."
"You do, I promise."
On that positive note, the two of you would finally get back to the reason of why you were there in the first place. "Should we get to shopping?" He laughed.
"Probably!"
- - -
"Bread?" He asked, standing before a literal wall of options.
"Oh, yeah! Sourdough!"
"Which is--," he stammered, watching you pinpoint the loaf you were after before he could finish his question. "That-- was oddly impressive."
"I know my bread!"
"That you do," he laughed, as you placed in in the cart. "What else do you want?"
Looking at the contents of the cart, you wondered if there was anything else that you needed. There was meat, vegetables and fruit, there were even a couple bottles of wine, and nothing else was ringing in your brain that you needed to get. That would likely hit you only after you were home.
"I can't think of anything. Is there anything you want?"
Quinn looked just as lost as you did which is probably why he laughed at your question. "I can't think of anything either."
"Oh! I know!" You said, excitedly. "I've been craving breaded shrimp!"
"Really?"
"Yeah! Remember those sushi rolls I made with the fried shrimp, avocado and cucumber?"
His face lit up at the mention of sushi, "Those were so good! Are you saying we're having sushi for dinner?"
"Of course!"
- - -
"Here, take my card. I'm going to run out and get the car started and then I'll meet you out front and get them loaded, okay?"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah," he said before placing another kiss your forehead. "Wait for me inside, please."
Not wanting to argue with him when he was being so kind and considerate, you nodded while he headed for the harsh world outside the store. It would take a while to get everything scanned and bagged, but eventually the time had come to brace for going back out into it.
Quinn was right where he said he would be, the silver SUV rolling into view when he saw you waiting there. He'd get out and insist on taking the cart while you got into the warmed interior of the car.
"I can help you," you begged, talking to him from the front seat.
"It's alright, babe, you just sit tight. I'm alright. Hockey player, remember?"
You'd roll your eyes at him while smiling. "I offered."
"I know you did, and I appreciate it."
Once everything was said and done, the heat was set on full as the two of you headed off from the grocery; safe and sound from the blistering wind battering the car.
"Anywhere else we need to go?" He asked, a cold hand finding your thigh.
"I just want to go home."
"Home it is."
#quinn hughes#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes one shot#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes fic#hockey imagine#hockey oneshot#hockey fic#hockey fanfiction#💌maven's love notes
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