#felt like doin somethin silly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skylarsblue · 1 month

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★Sugar Cube★

★Red Dead Redemption★ ★Fem!Reader cause I was having a fem! day, use of Y/N(sorry), fluff, a tiny bit of hurt/comfort at the end, silly drunk Arthur at the start, I don't think there's sexual tension here but I could be wrong. The autism has overtaken me and he is all I think about, the depression wave is only kept at bay by this man.★ ★The border in the story is @fairytopea 's, if you'd like me to remove it I will :3★

The world rocked back and forth, a haze over the rolling fields of grass. Arthur slumped his head down a bit, looking at trees passing by. He had to be running, he was pretty sure walking didn’t make the world move so fast. This speed was extraordinary! Since when could he run so fast? He used to be quick in his youth, but nearing forty, his knees had really aged poorly. But here he was, zipping down a dirt road with agility, wind blowing past his face. With such grace too. Then, suddenly a bump, and he felt himself tilt dramatically to the side. Two long blinks and horse hooves hitting the ground came to his ears. He looked forward, seeing his trusty steed he’d been bonding with the past week dodging a tree to continue up the path. Arthur groaned a little and pulled himself right, then he leaned forward, weighed down by his own head. It was bumpy, but he rested his cheek on the horse’s neck, humming in a moment of peace when feeling the horse’s fur rubbed against his stubble. It was soft and warm. He always liked that about horses.

“Heheh, nice horsey.” He slurred, patting the horse’s side. It snorted, slowing down to a prance as the trees became thicker. Arthur continued petting the horse’s fur when it occurred to him that he was saying ‘it’. “Ah you’re not some random horse. Nah nah, I named you, right? Uh…what was it…” He mumbled, looking at the light brown color of the Clydesdale horse. A dusty color. Arthur gasped, a bit choked by his own saliva. “Dusty! That’s what I named ya! Ahh, Dusty you’re the best horse this side o’ the country.” He laid against her again, listening to her snort again, which made him let out a fit of giggles. Deep, short laughs that erupted from his chest. He looked around at the trees, and despite his fuzzy brain, he was able to pick out a landmark.

“Buh, camp. They're gonna make me go do some…stupid…tedious chore or somethin’.” The honey-brown haired man pouted. He huffed out a breath as Dusty went under a broken, spiky tree, approaching a lantern lit spot full of tents. The sun was setting. Dusty stomped past the horse ties and more toward the middle of the camp, catching the attention of some of the gang.

“Arthur Morgan, what the hell are you doin’?!”

Arthur winced at the shrill yell. He blinked slowly, looking in its direction, finding Miss O’Shea stood with her hands situated on her hips and a scowl ever present. He sat up slowly, hands grabbing the saddle so he wouldn’t fall, given how wobbly he was. “Heeyyy, Miss O’Sheaaa. Evenin’.” He nodded, though his head didn’t really come up afterward. The woman scoffed and tossed her hands up in exasperation, falling back to her sides with a smack sound. Lenny snickered from his place at the table. “You have fun at the saloon, Morgan?!” Javiar shouted to him. The man nodded again. The men laughed as O’Shea yelled for him to get down. He almost did until she called him a moron.

“‘Ey! I ain’t no moron! I’m quite smart, I’ll have you know.” He pointed, only for the loss of a stability point to send him leaning forward again. Dusty brayed as he landed against her neck once more. Arthur heard some more laughs from the picnic table but he didn’t open his eyes again. “Arthur Morgan, get your sorry ass off the horse.” She said again, and Arthur replied with a discontent grunt. “‘er name is Dusty, first o’ all. And two, no. Cause you called me a moron.” He replied defiantly, ending his sentence with a small hiccup. O’Shea blinked in awe at the utter sass as Arthur flipped his head over to keep from looking at her.

“Dutch, will you get your boy?” She motioned at the horse. Dutch chuckled around his cigar and held up his hands. “What makes you think he’ll listen to me? He’s a brat when he’s drunk.” He shrugged.

“Who’s drunk?” A sweetened voice asked. Walking around a tent with a bucket of water settled on her hip. “Arthur’s bein’ a brat.” Miss O’Shea huffed. Y/N set the bucket down and looked toward the horse, watching the rough and steely outlaw hum a tune while petting his companion, giggling quietly to himself when Dusty stamped a hoof into the ground and huffed. She laughed quietly behind her hand, watching him hug Dusty and mutter slurred praises. “Ah, I see, he’s drunk.” She nodded. “Drunk and ornery. We need him somewhat put together by tomorrow, so he needs to sleep this off, but the moron won’t get off the damn horse!” O’Shea shouted back at him. “Dusty!” He called back, more concerned about the respect to his horse than himself. Y/N giggled and shook her head. “You’re never gonna get him to listen with all that hollerin’. The way to get a stubborn boy to listen is to sweet talk’im. Lemme try.” She patted O’Shea on the shoulder before walking up to the Clydesdale.

“Arthur, hun, can ya look at me?” She asked. In an instant, he turned his head to look at her, and a goofy grin appeared across his face. “Heyyy, how’re you?” He asked. Y/N smiled up at him, feeling a sense of fondness bursting in her chest. She’d always been fond of Arthur, perhaps to the point of blatant favoritism. She didn’t really hide it either. While she might’ve been generally kind and helpful to the gang as a whole, it wasn’t hard to see when she gave him special treatment. When washing or fixing clothes, she’d take his without him asking, while she’d put up some resistance with the rest. When a petty argument broke out between him and someone else, she’d only really get onto the other party for saying something untoward, while Arthur’d get something half-heartedly scolding. “Let’s try to keep the peace, m’kay? Why don’t’cha go sit down and relax?” While someone like Micha got chewed up like a dog with a bone. Though, honestly, Micha probably had it coming most of the time.

She never outright denied her general adoration for the man, though she never explained it either. Maybe it was because he’d been the one to find her, help her out of the mess she’d been in. Or maybe it was because he was so helpful to her, to everyone. Or, perhaps, she just thought he was pretty. Could’ve been all of the above, really.

“I’m doin’ fine. You look like you could be doin’ better.” Y/N replied. He waved a hand with a light-hearted scoff. “Nah I’m fiiinne.” He went to get off the horse, dismounting with a wobble. He held his hands out in front of him to catch himself, and she readied to catch him if he went backwards instead, even if he was probably too heavy for her to carry. Thankfully, he stood upright, and pivoted with a smile. “See? Fine.” He said, as if he’d actually proven something. Y/N tilted her head and fought off some giggles, unlike the men at the table watching it all. “Sure, Arthur. How bout we get you lied down, hm?” She suggested, gently resting her hand on his arm to help keep him steady. Arthur shook his head and waved his hand dismissively again.

“Naaah nah, y’all got work to finish, I should help.” He said. Y/N sighed, her free hand coming to rest on her hip. O’Shea rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “I told you. Ain’t got no sense when he’s drunk.” The woman complained. Y/N held up a hand, silently telling her to settle down and give her a moment. If there was one thing Arthur was, it was a real bitter life. All iron and blood-soaked palms, tarnished leather and black coffee. It was how he’d been raised, and while it wasn’t something he’d grown to dislike, something being familiar didn’t necessarily make it pleasant. Y/N had seen peeks of something softer.

How tender his voice was when calming a horse, or how careful his lines were when he sketched a landscape, and how gentle his gaze got when left with a moment of peace. All these little moments of softness to help some part of him to stay alive, keep himself from turning into nothing but a selfish, shallow husk. But keeping it alive on his own had to be tough. Y/N had always been the caring type, even when it got her into dangerous situations. She’d grown less naive, but not less sensitive, and that need to let life flourish was something she held onto dearly. Be it a garden or a man who probably hadn’t had a hug in Lord knows how long.

“I think it’s real nice you wanna help, but ain’t you been doin’ a lot recently?” Y/N asked. Her voice was softer, sweeter, and it caught Arthur’s attention almost immediately. “Uh, well…” He trailed off and leaned into her hand, now giving a gentle squeeze to the tense muscle of his shoulder. “All that runnin’ ‘round, pickin’ up the slack. All kinds of stuff you barely got thanked for. Don’t’cha deserve a little rest? Even just a nap?” She asked. His shoulders loosened the more she spoke, like he was being lulled to sleep with a lullaby.

The blue eyed man hummed quietly, then began to nod slowly. “Yeah…Yeah I do a lot, don’t I? I guess a lil rest wouldn’t hurt.” He mumbled. Y/N smiled and slid her hand down to his, holding it carefully, despite the rough calluses and scars. With a cautious pull, she began to lead him, stumbling toward his tent. “I think you’re exactly right. So why don’t we get you situated for bed, hm? Maybe I’ll talk Dutch into gettin’ you some extra hours in the mornin’.” She said. With a look over her shoulder, she grinned proudly at the onlookers. That being the boys at the table, Dutch, and Miss O’Shea. All either with smiles of their own or agape mouths. She snickered before turning her attention back to Arthur, helping him duck into his tent and meander up to his cot.

He sat down with a grunt. “There ya go, ain’t that nicer than standin’?” She asked, reaching to remove his hat from his head. Arthur gave a noncommittal noise back, blinking slowly, trying to remove the haze in his vision. He was very sleepy all of a sudden, and his limbs felt oddly heavy. After dusting some dirt from his hat and setting it down, she pushed the strands of hair that’d fallen in his face out of the way. His hair had grown a bit, starting to reach the lower part of his neck. He let out a shaky exhale when her nails dragged over his scalp, and the sound brought a sorrowful feeling to her heart. It was something so small and quick, and yet it had such an effect. She hesitated to pull her hand back, playing it off as her fixing his hair a bit more as he fought to stay awake. “How bout we get you ready for bed, hm?” Y/N whispered. He peeked up at her, eyelids heavy and barely open to gaze at her features. Even in the dark her face made him feel warm, fuzzy, much like the alcohol he’d imbibed. He gave her a slow nod, yawning as she untied the handkerchief from around his neck. He helped the best he could, using the toe of his right boot to kick off the left one, then repeated the process for the other one. “Think you can manage your belt, hun?” She asked. He looked down at the golden buckle, as if actually considering if he could manage it, before he nodded and gave an affirmative grunt. She laughed under her breath as he struggled for a moment, picking up his boots in order to move them aside, lest he trip over them in the morning.

He managed, with a mild struggle, to get his belt undone and off. She took it from him and set it aside, being sure to remove his gun. He always kept it beside his bed or under his pillow, and she was going to honor that personal rule. “You need anything else, sweetheart?” Y/N asked, approaching him once again. She stood in front of him, close enough to touch, though his hands remained in his lap. She was dimly lit by a burning lantern in the far corner, running low on oil. His head felt heavy, but he forced his chin upward to look at her more. He opened his mouth, though words didn’t leave it. She smiled so sweetly, tucking his bangs back, watching him melt under it.

“Poor thing, all rusty steel and splitterin’ wood, ain’t no one takin’ care of you. You gotta be exhausted.” She said, letting his chin fall into her palm, supporting the weight for him, much to his endearment. He closed his eyes as she stroked his cheek with her thumb, undeterred by the roughness of his stubble. “Ain’t ever been rich enough for sugar.” He grumbled, words still a bit garbled, tongue tied from liquor. She clicked her tongue sympathetically. He unintentionally leaned forward, his forehead coming to rest on her sternum. She shifted her positioning for him to be more comfortable, hands coming up to the back of his head and neck. He just about groaned when she lightly scratched his scalp, and oh how delighted she felt at it. Though how much he’d been deprived of this hurt her heart, the fact he was letting her make up for it felt all the nicer. She’d take bittersweet as a middle ground.

“Arthur.” She cooed his name, getting a grunt in response. She moved her hands to help him tilt his head up to look at her, met with a sleepy gaze, black pupils overtaking the blue she’d come to favor. “Tell ya what,” She began. “Whenever you get sick of the bitter world, and you want a little break, you come tell me. You can get all the sugar ya want, ‘kay? Everyone deserves a little sweetness here and there.” She offered. He stared at her, limp in relaxation. He hummed. “Ya sure?” He asked, feeling her gently guide him off of her and down to the bed. She propped his head on the pillow, putting his hands over his torso. “Mhm, absolutely positive.” She affirmed, covering him with the quilt rolled up at the end of the bed. She gave him another scratch to his temple, seeing as he liked it so much. His eyes fluttered closed, sighing. “Mm, alrighty, I’ll keep that in mind.” He replied, words hushed. “Good, now get some rest, cowboy. You’re gonna need it.” She cooed again. He was out quickly, allowing her to admire him for a moment. He was plastered, she doubted he’d remember any of the conversation they’d just had. But she wouldn’t mind repeating it to him anyway, since she meant it wholeheartedly. Perhaps a little selfishly, she pecked his forehead before leaving his tent, not missing the unconscious smile it got from him.

He hadn’t forgotten. Not the core parts of the night, anyway. Even when he’d woken up with a blasting headache thumping behind his eyes, trying to piece together everything. He remembered the majority of her words, and he couldn’t forget the feeling of her warmth, and the delicate way she spoke. And it humiliated him for the entire morning, but even when he was visibly ashamed she was sweet.

He’d sat up on his cot and put his head in his hands, grumbling to himself about how stupid he was. Flushed across his cheeks and up to his ears. Maybe if he asked John to help him, he could dig a hole and bury himself in it, the man owed him anyway. He called himself a fool, only to hear a giggle that forced his heart to a stop. With a wince, he glanced to the side between his fingers. Of course, there she stood, illuminated by the morning sun, holding a steaming cup of coffee. “A foolish decision doesn’t necessarily make a fool, Mr.Morgan. It’s several foolish decisions that make a pattern, then, that makes a fool.” She said, stepping into the tent. He slid his hands off his face and hesitantly took the cup she held out to him. She was trying to make him feel better, he knew that, and damn it worked.

“How’s your head feelin’, cowboy?” Y/N asked. He grumbled, rubbing his eyes. He could feel his heartbeat in the sockets, and the sunlight certainly wasn’t helping. He heard her chuckle as he sipped at the drink. It’s warmth nothing compared to hers, and shamefully, he wished to feel the heat of her palm on his face again, sober this time. “Asked Charles to grab some tea when he and Hosea had into town today, always helped me with headaches when I had it. I’ll make you a lil if it doesn’t settle soon.” She promised. He thanked her quietly, feeling her pat his shoulder. His tongue felt like metal in his mouth, weighing down the words he needed to use. He swallowed as she pivoted to leave, and he felt his chest tighten as she did.

Y/N paused when he coughed a little too poignantly. She looked over her shoulder, finding him fidgety and shy as he looked at the ground. “Yes, Arthur?” She asked, turning to look at him again. How sweet it was when he could only manage a quick glance before his cheeks flushed again. “I uh, ahem, last night…” He started, bouncing his leg slightly. She nodded and motioned for him to continue. He took in a deep breath. “You uh, you offered uhm…” He was so bad at words, it was one of his many faults. Either he spoke before he thought, or he used the wrong word and messed up the entire sentence, or he’d choke on whatever he wanted to say and they’d get sick of waiting, making him lose an opportunity. She had patience though, and let out another breathy laugh. Fond and kind, not mocking.

“I offered you sugar, yes. I said you could ask, whenever ya wanted, and I wouldn’t mind.” Y/N reiterated. He nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, staring down at the coffee in the little mug in his other hand. “So, uh, does that offer-” “It still applies when you’re sober, mister. Don’t worry.” She confirmed. Arthur swallowed. It felt like syrup, thick and encompassing, making him sluggish. He was still aware of the spiking pain in his skull, and while he knew it was his own fault, he would’ve loved relief. Even if he didn’t deserve it, to feel her nails gently pet at his head again sounded like heaven. He was a man of pride, and as mean as he could be, all rough and guarded, he still had a boyish sense of timidness when asking for something so nice. But she offered, and he wasn’t sure when he’d get another chance. He’d been told before he needed to get better at knowing when he waited too long, and when he went too quick. Now, he hoped he was picking right.

“I uh…this coffee’s kinda harsh.” He held up the cup a little awkwardly. Y/N blinked before her expression softened, and he felt like ice under the heat of a fire as she walked back to him slowly. “That right?” She asked. Arthur cleared his throat and nodded. “Little harsh on the headache ‘s all.” He replied quietly. She tilted her head before her hand rose up, finding its place on his temple. With a little pressure from her thumb, she rubbed small circles, and it helped ease the ache. “So you’d prefer somethin’ a little sweeter, huh?” She asked. His shoulders loosened, and like the night before, his eyelids grew heavy. He nodded slowly, sighing when she lightly scratched at his scalp. “I got’cha.” She whispered, using both her hands to help combat the headache, even rubbing around his eyes, where it hurt the most. At this rate, he might not even need the tea she’d offered. However long she stood there, he relished all of it, the coffee growing colder by the second. When her hands finally stopped, coming to rest on his shoulders, his headache hadn’t vanished but was far more tolerable.

“How’re you feelin’?” She asked. Arthur stared up at her sleepily, face lax, and if you’d asked her, she’d say he seemed drunk again. “Better.” He confirmed. Y/N grinned, giving the muscle of his shoulder a light squeeze. Then her name was called. She winced and looked back at him. “I gotta help fix that wagon Micha’s idiotic ass broke.” She huffed, and he snickered. “I’ll be alright. Thank ya.” He replied. Y/N couldn’t stop grinning, and she was certain her expression showed her adoration, not like she was trying to hide it. “Alrighty then. Just lemme know if ya need anythin’.” She rose her hand to his hair, mussing it up this time. He groaned and went to fix it, listening to her giggle as she left the tent. He caught a glimpse of her right before she disappeared from line of sight, sighing when she was gone. He was a little too familiar with the ache he had to follow her.

“Shit.” He sighed, raising the coffee to his lips again. This time, he winced at the taste. Maybe he wasn’t as into bitterness as he thought he was.

From that day on, he progressively got more and more needy for a shot of something full of sucrose. It was subtle most of the time, mostly to avoid all the teasing the rest of the gang would undoubtedly give. But he’d started to ask even when others were around, and oh how it helped, even on the worst day.

On the third day since he’d arrived drunk off his ass, he’d muttered something about he and his horse missing sugarcubes on hard days. He’d been battered around by mother nature trying to get fish for that night’s dinner, laughed at by Javiar because a trout jumped out the damn river and smacked him in the face. Then Dusty caught sight of a snake in the grass on the way back, turned too quick, and had him slide off the side into the dirt, scraped up his elbow and dent the bill of his hat.

She’d heard him and paused what she was doing, turning to him with that gaze full of sympathy. She used her foot to pull over a stool beside her, motioning with her head for him to sit. When he did, she carried on with her task, but did her best to keep her hand somewhere on his back, caressing light circles in his shoulders as she recounted how grateful she’d been for what he’d done the past week. Unashamedly inflating his ego, and oh how it helped, having him leaning on the table as he listened to her praises.

Then a week passed and he’d gotten caught in the rain, without his horse. It’d been his fault for thinking a walk was a good idea when he knew the clouds in the distance spelled out a storm, but he’d been so sure he could’ve made it back in time. Of course, he didn’t, and he arrived back into camp soaking wet and muddied. The rain had turned to a light sprinkle but he was dripping water and scowling. He’d nearly punched Micha’s jaw off when the man took joy in his misery, until he caught sight of Y/N sewing a hole in Karen’s tights under cover. She saw his sorry state, and just like before, gave him a smile. An aura of ‘you poor thing’ that made him want to curl up in her lap. As if he wasn’t a grown man with more than a few bounties to his name.

He’d trudged over with an expression more akin to a pout than a scowl. She looked up at him as he stood, dripping water. “You know, before the storm hit, I cleaned some of your clothes. Should be dry by now. I even had some of that scented soap left, lavender.” She said. Arthur sighed and nodded, he hadn’t said it, but she knew the ‘thank you’ was in his mind. He went off to his tent, finding the clothes she was talking about laid out and ready for him. The anger that’d built up began to dwindle as he changed into them, hanging them up along with his hat before he made his way back to her.

She looked up from sewing and smiled. She grabbed the stack of clothes she was tasked with sewing and moved them aside, offering up the space beside her. He sat down close enough, their knees touched, sighing when she patted his leg. “Good job today.” She said. Three words, and it made him sink down, eased and peaceful. He muttered his gratitude and listened to her hum a tune, sound mixing with the sound of water hitting the earth.

By the second week, he’d grown accustomed to asking a little more blatantly. Asking if she had anything sweet after dinner, if she knew how much sugar cost at the shop, if she knew of anything candied to chase down the burn of some whiskey. Each time, she’d reply casually, but sneak in her tender touches and merciful gaze. She’d give him a once over and always knew just how much sugar to pour into his cup. On days where he only needed a little, she’d give him encouraging praise and a pat on the back, enough to keep his chin held high. On worse days, she’d overload it, allowing him to lean his head against her as she distracted him from his day with recountings of her own. Oh, and petting his hair, he always seemed to like that.

It’d really gotten more obvious to the gang. Leading to some teasing and hushed conversations, mostly the girls asking if they were sweet on one another. Arthur had flushed bright red, though it’d been hidden by a light sunburn, and waved his hand. Talking over them to make it clear he didn’t wanna hear it. While Y/N, mysterious as always, had shrugged with a cheeky grin and sauntered off. Really, it wasn’t hard to realize why they’d ask. Tilly said she’d seen Y/N look at him like he’d helped raise the sun every morning, Mary-Beth replied with Arthur’s pension for drawing her when he thought no one was looking. A whole page spread dedicated to her, she claimed. Though, none of them were quite foolish enough to try and nab his journal to look and confirm. But, Karen did like the sight of it. As brazen as she could be, she’d always loved romance in books, and she wouldn’t lie and say that the interactions weren’t entertaining.

She slipped her theories to Dutch when she overheard he’d be sending Arthur into a town just past Valentine to check around, see if he could find anything useful. He wasn’t sure who to send with the boy, even if Arthur was pretty capable on his own. Dutch wasn’t one for match-making, and he didn’t like meddling in romantic affairs, not when there were important things to look after. But, Arthur had been good to him, and it wasn’t like Y/N hadn’t done well with all the tasks he’d given her. He couldn’t see the harm in getting them a little alone time. Maybe it’d do Arthur some good.

Thing was, getting there was fairly easy, if you ignored the run in with some men that Dutch had pissed off half-way through. Or the mini dust storm that hit them suddenly. All of which culminated in them getting into town as the sun was setting, something that pissed Arthur off immensely, since he had stuff that needed buying. Chances were the shops would be closed by now.

“Could rob’em.” Y/N whispered as she tethered her horse outside a hotel. Arthur paused the process of rolling his sore neck to look at her, eyebrow raised. “I thought you preferred payin’ shopkeeps.” He replied. “I was kiddin’, Arthur. There are better places to rob and people more deservin’ of losin’ money.” She gently smacked his arm with a snicker. Arthur grumbled, adjusting his hat. “I’ll get the room situation handled, just see if anyone’s open.” She said. “Yes ma’am.” Arthur held up his hands, beginning to walk across the street. “And I mean it! Pay fairly!” She shouted to him whilst she made her way to the hotel door, getting a hand wave in response.

“Good evening, ma’am.” The man behind the counter greeted her. An older man with a thick handlebar mustache. “Evenin’. What’s the price of a room, sir?” She asked. “Two beds is five dollars a night, a single is two dollars.” He replied. Y/N winced and considered her options for a moment. She imagined Arthur wasn’t too picky, but she worried maybe it’d be a little uncomfortable. But, if he really did feel that way, she could simply sleep in a chair. She shook off her worries and nodded. “A single then, please.” She replied, getting a nod. She grabbed her money as he grabbed the key. “Ah, do you have baths? How much do they cost?”

“About 25 cents, a dollar for a wash girl.” The man replied. She shook her head and slipped him forty cents. “I have a friend I’m stayin’ with. His name’s Arthur. Blue eyes, stubble, black hat, covered in dirt. Can’t miss’im.” She smiled. “If you could tell him I paid for a bath and the room, I’d appreciate it. Lord knows he’s earned it.”

The man nodded and pointed back to the bath rooms. Y/N thanked him again. She didn’t plan on staying in there long, just a quick rinse. She preferred not dragging outside into bed with her, gritty sand and dirt didn’t make for a good bed mate. She was out and set up in the room before Arthur arrived, she figured he’d found an open shop, maybe bargaining. He always said haggling was easiest when someone was tired or drunk, and it was best to strike a deal whenever possible. Just so long as you could be away fast enough before they realized how short the straw they drew was.

Her assumption was correct. Arthur managed to buy what Dutch told him too, had his bag heavier than before, weighing on his shoulder. The man bit back a wince when he raised his arm, rolling his shoulder, hoping it’d loosen the muscle. It only caused a sharp stabbing pain to pulsate from under his shoulder blade. He held his shoulder with his opposite hand and pushed into the hotel, finding the keeper about ready to leave. The man looked him over once and then gave a smile. “Arthur?” He asked, making the cowboy’s brows furrow. “Yes?” He replied suspiciously. “Young lady came in and paid for the room, and a bath. You made it just in time too, was about to close up.” The keeper explained, placing a key on the desk. Arthur picked it up and blinked. “A bath?” He asked. “She said you’d earned it. No wash girl though.” Arthur shook his head at that, mumbling a quick ‘thanks’ before making his way back.

The steam that rose from the water wafted in the air and beckoned him. He would’ve been fine washing up in a river, he’d done that plenty, since warm baths were a luxury. But it never stopped being nice when he could get one. He told himself to thank Y/N when he could, feeling the warm water help ease the tension in his back. That knot in his shoulder hadn’t left though, and relaxing almost made it worse. He hissed through his teeth but tried to set it aside, enjoy what he could. But when it came time to wash his hair, he found it hard to lift his hands that high.

He had a high pain tolerance, he’d been shot and stabbed plenty of times, but that didn’t mean he liked pain. If he forced himself, he could’ve done it, but it felt like another stone thrown at him when he’d already been in a rock slide. One last little thing to mess with him, make his day a little worse. He grumbled to himself, rubbing at his shoulder again, cursing the air. He glanced up from the bubbles in the tub when he heard light steps down the hall, then a light knock at the door. He frowned and furrowed his brows. He didn’t pay for a wash girl, and given the time, they’d probably all gone anyway.

“Arthur? You in there?” Y/N’s voice spoke from the other side. His scowl turned into a mix of shock and shame. “Uh, yeah.” He said, coughing away a voice crack. He sank down a little more in the shield of bubbles when the door cracked a little, just enough for her head to poke in. “You took awhile, I was worried somethin’ happened. How long you been in here?” She asked. He shrugged. “Couple minutes.” He replied. He watched her gaze narrow, as if she was struggling to see, trying to make something out. “You ain’t washed your hair yet?” Her question made him sigh and flush pink. “Got a damn crick in my back, hurts to lift my arm. I’ll be fine, just gotta bare it.” He brushed off casually.

“Wh- Gosh, no. You don’t need to go hurtin’ yourself worse than you already are.” Without a moment of hesitation, she stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her. She’d gotten ready for bed, white night gown flowing around her ankles, hair undone. “I’ll wash your hair, sit up a bit.” She motioned. Arthur’s chest felt tight, like his ribs were bars and a rowdy prisoner banged against them, his heart the criminal. “I can’t ask ya to-” “You ain’t askin’, I’m offerin’, sweetheart. You’ve had a hard day, least I can do is help get all that dust out of your hair.” She cut him off, rolling back her sleeves, settling down on the stool. He swallowed. That heavy syrup sensation had returned to the back of his throat, catching words that threatened to break past the barrier of his teeth. Once she was settled behind him, she caught him staring over his shoulder, and sent him a grin.

With a motion of her hands, he sighed, lamenting. It’d been a long time since he’d felt so…boyish, immature maybe. So embarrassed by something like this. He’d had baths in rivers in plain sight of the gang, had a few wash girls do this exact job before, all that never bothered him. Why was it because of her that he felt so shy all of a sudden? He wasn’t the shy type, he didn’t think so anyway. Arthur picked at his nails under the water as she wetted his hair. She used two fingers under his chin, tilting his head back a bit so she didn’t get soap in his eyes. “Relax, Arthur. I ain’t waitin’ to tear your throat out.” She whispered, hushed words sent the hair on his arm standing up. He forced his muscles to loosen as best he could, though forcing didn’t do much good.

He stayed awkwardly stiff until he felt her fingers drag through his hair. Like she’d touched his brain directly, flipped a switch, he eased more into the bath with a sigh, leaning his head back into her palms. She bit back a quiet giggle, scrubbing lightly. “Hair’s gettin’ pretty long, you should let me trim it when we get back.” She said absentmindedly, being sure to drag her nails over his temples and behind his ears. She bit her bottom lip to fight off a laugh again when he let out a little groan from the back of his throat.

“Ya hear me?” She asked. “Huh? Oh uh, yeah, sure sure.” He replied, voice thick and low with tranquility. She kept her loving teases to herself, let him enjoy the moment, she certainly was. Maybe it was because she knew he appreciated it that it felt so fulfilling. Could’ve been that she just liked feeling useful, needed. Whatever the reason, she relished in it, taking her time. Just to make sure she got out all the muck.

Of course, she couldn’t milk it for that long. Eventually, she had to rinse out all the suds, ring out the excess water. He kept quiet but missed the treatment when she stood up. “Need anythin’ else, hun?” She asked, leaning into his line of sight. Like before, he looked up at her lazily, like he’d been floating in the clouds moments before. “Hm…no, I’m alright. Thank ya.” He nodded. She nodded back. Arthur looked back down at the bath, knowing he’d have to get out soon. He heard her step away to leave, glancing up again when she was at the door. “I’ll see you in a bit.” She said before leaving him alone once again. He stared at the door for a while, swearing the room got dimmer when she left, less warm too. He huffed and rubbed his face with his hands, slowly exhaling between his fingers. Cursing to himself.

When he left the bathroom, now in clothes from his bag, hair still damp, he meandered up the steps. His body felt heavy, and if it weren’t for the stabbing throb in his back, he’d be looking forward to dropping on the mattress. He opened the door to the room, met with a lamp on and the quiet humming of a familiar tone. He stepped in and shut the door, finding Y/N with a book in hand whilst sat upon a singular chair. He looked around the room and caught her eye once he was done surveying it. “One bed?” He asked. “It was cheaper. Figured you wouldn’t mind, but if you do, I’ll sleep right here.” She replied. Arthur scoffed. “I ain’t havin’ you sleep in a chair. I’ll sleep there-” “No ya won’t. You’ll take the bed, mister. I’m not negotiating.”

Her tone was firm and she pointed a finger to get her point across all the more strongly. Arthur let his bag slip to the floor, staring at her in disbelief, before he let out a breathy laugh. “Fine. But I’m still not havin’ you sleep in the chair.” He replied, walking to the bed in order to sit down. She tossed her hands up after marking her place in the story. “Alright, ‘suppose I can agree to that.” She laughed, only for her smile to fall when he grunted in pain. “You okay?”

He looked over at her and nodded. “Fine, just my shoulder ‘s all.” He answered. She stared at him for a moment longer, watching him tug at the collar of his shirt, trying to cool himself down. It was the height of Summer, even the nights were getting humid and uncomfortable. “Hot?” She asked. “It’s this damn shirt. Only one I had clean, but it’s made for Winter. I’d take it off but,” He motioned in her direction, much to her amusement. Crinkling her nose, she snickered and shook her head. “You act like it’s some kinda curse. You can sleep shirtless, I won’t mind. It’s not like skin’s gonna kill me, Arthur.”

“Didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable ‘s all.” He retorted. “Well I ain’t, but you certainly are. Go ‘head. It’s not problem to me, but you dyin’ of heat stroke might be.” Y/N motioned with her hand and he tapped his fingers on his knee for a moment. He muttered something before taking her advice. She did her best to remain respectful, though she caught a couple glances, nothing too distasteful. Her face fell again when he hissed about his back again, and when he tossed the shirt away, a series of pops emanated from the muscles, making her wince in his place. “You sure you’re alright?” She asked, standing up, leaving her book in the seat.

“I’ve had worse. It ain’t pleasant but I’ll live.” The man said with a light cough, rolling his neck, that too popped rather loudly. He felt her hand come up to replace his, exhaling when she applied pressure to a specific point of soreness. It hurt, but in the way a stretch in the morning did. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she looked at his sorry state. It always made her ache, especially if it was something she couldn’t help fix.

Arthur wasn’t a good man, she knew that. But it wasn’t like she could judge. He’d never been anything but good to her, did right by the gang as best he could too. Every day she swore he did something else that went either unnoticed or un-thanked, and that killed her. Sure, there were probably men more deserving of kindness, people who didn’t rob and shoot to survive. But she hadn’t fallen for them, hadn’t ever met a man like that of which could compare to Arthur. When God came to judge the man’s soul, she’d gladly plead his case through the bars of the pearly gates. He’d been through enough, and when her mind ran away from her into a place darker than the night, she could sense it wouldn’t be ending any time soon. That hurt to think about. To worry about an unforeseen future likely full of strife of all sorts, things she’d probably have no say in, no ability to save him from.

But she had him safe for a night. In a place with walls and locks on doors, in her sights and close enough to touch. She couldn’t fix every problem he had, but she could make this night a little easier, surely. It was the least she could do.

“You trust me?” She asked. Arthur glanced up at her, a bit confused, but he nodded. She patted his shoulder. “Gonna seem a lil awkward, but just trust me.” She motioned with her head to the mattress. “Lie on your front.” He blinked a few times rapidly, clearly more confused than he was a second prior, perhaps a bit bashful. Y/N snorted and shook her head. “Easy, cowboy. Nothin’ like that.” She reassured. Arthur tilted his head back, tucking his tongue into his cheek as he glanced her up and down. After a short staring contest, he sighed and tossed his hands up a bit, doing as he was told.

“If this is how you plan on killin’ me, I commend your patience.” He commented, cheek set on a pillow. He heard her laugh, and it helped ease the tension in the room. He knew full well she wasn’t going to hurt him, he was just talking to fill the room with something else to focus on, given how uncomfortable it felt. Mostly because he wasn’t sure what was happening. He jumped when her weight ended up around his waist. “Easy, I told you it’d be awkward, but I need you to trust me here, sweetheart.” Her voice said, patting his arm. Arthur scoffed a little. “Pardon me for bein’ caught off guard, ma’am.” He sassed, getting a light thump to the back of his head, which he complained about.

“Hush. And keep your arms down, won’t work if you’re puttin’ stress on’em.” Y/N answered. He let his arms fall, grumbling about her being bossy, before he felt the heel of her palm press against his shoulder blade. His mouth curled into a hurt scowl, inhaling between his teeth. She rubbed a slow circle and hushed him quietly, instructing him to breath. It hurt, but the muscle began to loosen. She could feel the knot of tension under the skin, clicking her tongue sympathetically, it had to hurt like hell. “Okay. I need you to follow my instruction, ‘kay? I want you to take a deep breath, all the way until you can’t fill your lungs no more.” She whispered. Arthur did as told, not really sure where it was going, but he wasn’t up for questioning.

“Good, now, exhale it all. Until your chest is completely empty. Go slow.” Her words helped make him sleepier, more relaxed, which she knew good and well. It was why she was whispering. As he pushed out the oxygen until he was straining to keep doing so, with all her weight, she pushed into his back with her palm. A loud pop sound echoed off the walls with the quick following of a loud groan into the pillow he laid on.

She lessened the pressure and rubbed his shoulder again. “Did I get it?” She asked. Arthur didn’t give words, but let out an affirmative noise, face buried in the pillow. She smiled as he seemed to sink into the mattress the more she worked out the tension. She wasn’t content at just the shoulder though, so she moved over to the other side. Using her knuckles to trace around the bones. Every now and then, she’d stumble across another little knot, working them out with dutiful care.

“You fallin’ asleep on me, Morgan?” Y/N asked after some silence, pulling at the muscle in his lower back. Once again, he simply gave a noise. She snickered when she caught a yawn he let out. When he let out an appreciative noise when she worked at his waist, she chuckled again. “See, no one realizes how much strain we put on our lower backs until you’re in a position like this.” She commented lazily. “Mhm.” He replied. Y/N couldn’t stop smiling again, her cheeks were starting to hurt. She glanced down when she felt a warm touch on her leg, finding his hand turned toward her, lightly holding her ankle. She melted as his thumb carefully caressed the bone, a silent bit of appreciation. She knew full well she couldn’t left it there, but the moment was so sweet, and not easy to come by.

He blinked slowly when she leaned over him, tapping his temple. Her weight was off of him, something that kept him from dozing off. Arthur lifted his chin, looking at her in his peripheral. “Mind flippin’ over, hun?” She asked. He yawned again, nodding slightly. He moved from his stomach to his back, too relaxed to make a cheeky comment about her sitting back down. He rubbed his eye tiredly as she picked up his opposite hand. “Ya know, if someone asked me if you were drunk right now, I’d say yes. You look like you’re gone, mister.” She teased, pressing her thumbs into his palm before dragging the pressure down his wrist. Arthur let his other hand drop down, his vision a bit hazed over. “Might be.” He mumbled, barely opening his mouth to speak.

He smiled slightly when she laughed. He felt the pull of his tendons as she pushed his hand back, cautious to not over do it. “Sorry.” He commented unconsciously, the word slipping out without much thought. Y/N looked at his face with her brows furrowed. “What for?” She questioned, moving her hand up to his bicep. He flinched when the soreness became apparent under her touch. “My hands. Ain’t too nice for holdin’ I know.” He said. “Now why would you think that, Arthur?” She asked, squeezing the muscle that connected his neck to his shoulder. He tilted his chin out of the way as he thought of how to word his answer.

“You got dainty hands, all soft and nice. Mine…mine are all scratched up and tough. ‘s gotta feel like gravel at this point.” He explained. Y/N scoffed, taking his other hand in her own to repeat the process. “Oh shush, that ain’t true. They’re a workin’ mans hands, that’s all. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with’em.” She replied. “They ain’t kind like yours either.” Arthur retorted, making her pause for a second. She shook her head with a sigh, working out the tension in his scapulae muscle. She stopped and moved her hand to his jaw instead, prompting him to look at her.

She looked inviting in the warm lamp light, accentuating the curve of her cheekbones and the color of her eyes. How warm she was, and he could smell the hint of soap. “Robbin’ or not, you’re a good man, Arthur. Maybe not all the time, but you ain’t a monster either.” She said. His face showed he wasn’t buying it. He eased further when her hand dragged up, pushing his hair back. “No I ain’t.” He whispered back. Y/N clicked her tongue and grabbed his cheeks with both her hands, leaned close and eyes intense with the need to convey her point. “Arthur Morgan, look at me.” She demanded. He listened, even if it felt difficult to do.

“I don’t care bout the law’s definition, and I’m well beyond the words of the Holy Ghost. I don’t care how many men out there hope for you to hang, and I don’t care how much blood stains those hands of yours.” She stroked his cheekbone and up beside his eye, running over the lines that had formed in his skin, brought on by years of expressions. Mainly laughter and grins, things she savored every time she saw them. “The Arthur I know is a loyal man, a workin’ man, a brother and a mentor, a leader and a guard. He fights for what needs to be done and earns his keep, and then some. Your hands might be gun wielding but they’re also caring. When you draw in that journal, or when you pet your horse, pat Jack on the back like he was your own blood.”

His eyes had widened by now and his throat felt like it was being gripped, a pressure building up and threatening to break like a damn. It was so much to take in, too much, but looking away felt like blasphemy. He might not have been a man of worship, not to God, not anymore. But to sin against her might be what damned him, and he wasn’t ready for that. He never would be.

“You might be a bad man, but you ain’t been nothin’ but good to me. Whether you like it or not, you will always be a good man to me. And I’ll be damned if I let you go a day not knowin’ it.” Y/N finished, her voice a bit choked by now. She managed to keep her tears down, but her eyes got misty nevertheless. Arthur rolled his jaw and clenched his teeth, at loss for what words to say. She fixed his hair again and sighed. ��Am I clear?” She asked. He stared, fidgety, before he sat up suddenly. She felt his arms wrap around her waist tightly, his forehead resting on her shoulder.

Y/N took a moment to process before she relaxed, bringing her hands to him once again. Her cheek rested on his head, scratching his scalp, the other hand resting on his shoulder. “You haven’t answered me.” She commented. Arthur squeezed her for a moment. “Loud ‘nd clear, ma’am.” He replied, voice a bit hoarse but not any less genuine. She smiled and turned to peck him on the temple. “I’ll keep tellin’ you til it sticks. Mark my words, Arthur Morgan. I’ll keep that bitter man you think you are at bay.” She promised. He managed a choked up chuckle against the fabric of her nightgown.

“I’ll hold you to that, sugar.”

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption x reader #fem reader #female reader #fluff

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rustedhearts · 5 months

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hurting yourself baking christmas cookies with bossy boxer!steve and being pouty about it because i’m feeling a certain way!

“ouch!”

steve jerks awake in his armchair in the living room. the movie he fell asleep to was no longer playing, and the room had darkened to a dull blue hue. how long was he asleep? he checks his watch and rubs his eye all the same.

“fuck, fuck-owww.”

but the anguished whines of his wife in the kitchen had him leaping from his chair and hurrying into across the house. he stumbled into a wall along the way, a little woozy on his feet. when he made it to the kitchen, he found you cradling your hand with a soured expression.

“oh, sweetheart,” he sighed, curling his fingers around your wrist to bring you close. “what’d you do? hmm?”

you unfurled your fingers and showed him the wound: a gnarly burn swelling and pulsing with stinging pain. steve frowned when he saw it, and leaning down to kiss it with a gentle mouth came like reflex.

“it was an accident,” you sniffled, eyes welling with tears. you felt silly, really. “i was just…”

“doin’ too much? stressin’ yourself out?” steve mused, quirking a brow knowingly when he looked up from your hand.

your lip jutted out in a pout. “no. i’ve wanted to make these cookies for days, and-and i’ve been putting them off ‘cause jane’s had all these events—and—“

“sweetheart, sweetheart. why didn’t you ask me to help?”

you huffed, twisting your hand in his hold. “you always burn ‘em.”

steve chuckled. “i could’ve done somethin’ else.”

you shrugged, looking away from him toward the floured counters of cookies, cooling in small batches on racks. you had tins ready for packaging, all hand picked for who they’d go to. you wanted all your friends and family to have a batch of freshly-baked cookies for christmas.

“you were sleeping.” your voice was much softer than you wanted it to be.

“honey,” steve cooed, still holding you by the wrist. he brought his other hand under your chin and tipped it up. “how ‘bout you sit down, okay?”

“no, i have to finish these—“

“no, you have to sit down.”

“but there’s a batch in the oven and—“

“sit. down.”

you wordlessly plopped down at the kitchen island. though, the pout remained as steve opened the far right cabinet near the refrigerator and pulled out the first aid kit. it was his cabinet—designated for migraines and bad days where he couldn’t get through without a little medicated help.

the first aid kit, though, was just for you.

“your face’ll get stuck like that, angel,” steve quipped as he took your hand by the wrist again.

you huffed, watching him squirt ointment on the pad of his forefinger. “no it won’t.”

his chest rumbled and shoulders shook with a chuckle. you hissed when he rubbed the ointment into your palm.

“still so cute when you’re pouty.” he glanced up and nicked you on the chin with his knuckle.

you rolled your eyes. “whatever.”

his gentle touch turned to a stern grab when he snatched your chin again. the amused glint in his eye had hardened to a soft glare.

“and still so mouthy. you’re never too old for some discipline, baby, and m’ not too old to dole it out. y’ hear me?”

cheeks swelling with warmth, you dug your teeth into your tongue and nodded. steve loosened his hand around your jaw, stroking the back of his finger along your cheek. his glare fizzled out just as quickly as it came.

he finished rubbing the ointment into your hand and smoothed a bandage over it just in case. he pressed another kiss to the patch of covered skin.

“thank you, honey,” you murmured.

steve pet your cheek again without word. the egg timer trilled a moment later, and he slipped the pink oven mitts over his hands to grab the cookie sheet from the top oven rack.

they were placed on the stovetop, and the oven was turned off.

“what time’s janey comin’ home again?” he asked.

you looked at your watch. “half an hour. stella‘s dropping her off.”

christmas came early for steve: your daughter’s play date at the munson’s was suddenly his favorite gift. because he had you all to himself, and you were so pouty and sweet. it was one of his favorite ways to have you.

putting the oven mitts back in their drawer, steve turned around and stopped before you at the island. he took your face in his hands, gentle and sweet. you eased into them as his thumbs massaged your cheeks.

“half an hour enough discipline for you, my angel?”

you tongued away a grin, perking up in his hands. “thought i was supposed to be resting.”

steve kissed the tip of your nose. “oh, trust me, honey. you’ll be layin’ down for a while after this.”

you package christmas cookies with a sore ass and a happy steve later :)

#rolly!#boxer!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #boxer!steve blurb #steve harrington fanfiction

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xrcs · 1 year

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wanima bros + female reader

author’s note – i’m just hoping this gets the attention it deserves cause i put my blood, sweat, and tears into this one right here. these two are so underrated but lowkey sexy.

content warnings: threesome. dom keisuke. switch reader. sub junichi. anal and vaginal penetration. overstimulation. masochist junichi??? titty suckin’. clit play. hair pulling. praise kink. (junichi) blowjob. edging. junichi eatin pussy for like 2 seconds. spittin’ a couple times. fingering.

shit, the wanima brothers have been eyeing you for a while now. junichi may not be able to verbalize it. but, you can most definitely see it in his eyes. his brother also caught on quickly, observing the way junichi would look at you.

it slowly became a competition to see who could be with you first. both of them would show off and exaggerate their moves while playing soccer. scoring goals for you, looking at you while running. nobody would’ve ever thought that the brothers would fight over something.

“bro! watch this,” keisuke yelled, heading towards you. you can’t even lie, you’ve been crushing on them. you liked the attention they gave you, it was so silly. but, the effort was cute. keisuke’s footsteps could be heard getting closer, a wide grin on his face.

junichi was chasing after him.

“yo, how’re ya doin’? i wanted ta’ tell ya somethin’ realll important,” keisuke sang, his playful energy radiating. it quickly diminishes when his brother steps over, his whole demeanor towering over you two.

you laugh awkwardly watching the two brothers clash. the silent argument almost makes you wanna cringe.

they’re being so childish. you clear your throat loudly to stop their conflict. both of them looking at you with those googly eyes they have. the shit-eating smirk that was on keisuke’s face was back. keisuke turns his back to and whispers something into his twin’s ear.

it’s incoherent, leaving you confused. they both turn around, smiling brightly.

“hey.. me n’ bro wanna tell you something,” keisuke says with a sinister look. you honestly feel a sense of nervousness, wondering what they have to say. you cock a brow up as you wait for the words to come out of keisuke’s mouth.

he took a deep breath in, “we– ahem. we like ya. n’ we wanna get ta know ya a lil’ better,” a reddish blush spread across the wanima brothers’ faces. lost for words, you kinda just stand there. suddenly, a wave of courage washes over you.

“you know, you guys are kinda cute. i’ve been havin’ a little crush on you two as well,” you state, face getting hotter as your tongue lets out every syllable.

the wanima brothers’ looked at you in shock, “no way! are ya being serious? that’s what bro said,” both of them felt giddy inside, hoping you’re not just playing some silly game.

“yea, i’m being serious, seriously,” you voice firmly.

let’s just say after that day, you three got REALLY close. & they both had to have you. at the same time.

you’re sat on keisuke’s lap, mind all foggy from all the kissing and licking you three have done.

“junichi, c’mere. wanna teach you how ta really please a lady,” keisuke commanded, junichi came closer to the both of you. his eyes scanned your bare pussy, glistening and fat. jesus, his cock was so hard that it hurt. one of his hands went down to palm his cock, to soothe the pain a bit.

his mouth started to water a bit, cocoa eyes telling a whole story.

“stick a finger in’ere. curl it while in n’ out,” keisuke explained, pointing to your pussy. junichi slowly hovered his finger over your pussy before gliding his pointer on it. spreading the slick, making you whimper.

you wiggle in keisuke’s hold, “don’t t-tease me, jun,” he nodded and stuck his finger, the feeling of your warm gummy walls around it makes him wonder how you would feel around his cock. your eyes flutter shut as he starts to curl him finger.

“n’ add more as you pick up the pace,” keisuke described, biting his lip while he hears the lewd squelching of your cunt. junichi adds another finger, curling his fingers into you faster.

your head falls back onto keisuke’s shoulder, mouth wide open.

“touch- agh.. my clit, jun,” you moaned, feeling yourself slipping away from reality. he’s so skilled even with being a little inexperienced. junichi’s blown eyes search for your clit. maybe it’s the thing that looks like a little button? his thumb comes up to stimulate your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion.

gosh, you don’t know how you’re last. junichi’s already pushing you to the edge. the coil in your stomach becoming more and more bunched up, waiting for its moment to snap. he adds another finger, rolling his wrist while curling rapidly.

your back arches, eyes rolling back as bliss takes over. keisuke fondles with your boobs, creating more stimulation to your body. fuck, you’re close.

“yeah, bro! now, nibble on her clit a lil’. that’ll make her go wild,” keisuke laughs, watching how you can come undone so quickly. junichi brings his face up to your pretty pussy, his hot breath tickling her. he starts to nibble on your clit, making you help.

the pleasure, the pain. which one feels better? both do. junichi continues to suck and nibble on your clit while pumping his fingers into you. the coil’s about to snap.

“yes, junichi! fuhhhhck, doin’ such a- ngh good job! you’re s-so good for me,” you scream, rolling your hips in order to get more friction. junichi’s cock twitches, leaking pre as your praised him. he almost let out a pathetic whimper. keisuke smirks as he sees that you’re losing yourself in the pleasure.

junichi’s hyper focused, only thinking about making you cum. but, his cock’s basically purple, he really wants to let a load out. his hand starts to move like a vibrator. changing his pace every few seconds. slow, fast, slow, fast. curling his fingers with intensity. he looks up at your expression and groans into your pussy.

just like that, you cum all over his fingers and face. that extra vibration sent you off the charts, the whole room turning white. your ears ring as you finally come down. all senses coming back. your body starts to convulse as junichi licks all the oozing essence on cunt. making sure he gets every single last drop.

“shit– junichi! ‘m sensitive,” you wince, quickly bringing your hand down to pull junichi’s hair. the burn on his scalp felt so fucking good, he moaned shamelessly. you smirk at his reaction, taking notes in your head. keisuke laughed as he watched his own brother almost nut from hair pulling.

keisuke picks you up with his strong, toned arms, “aye, bro. c’mere. want you to support the other side,” junichi gets up and holds up as well, your legs wrapping around his torso. gosh, this is so erotic. honestly, you could just cum from this position that you’re in right now. squished in between two beefy men, that’s what’s called heaven on earth.

they started to communicate with their eyes, nodding at their telepathic statements. you kinda wish you were in on it but that’s just the fun of it. you never know what’s going to happen. you notice that they started to move a bit but you couldn’t look below you to see what was happening.

their slimy tips glide against your wet holes. you clench around nothing as they tease you with their cocks. just as you were about to complain about their teasing, they stuffed you at the same time. leaving you feeling so full as you had to take their girthy dicks.

they slowly started to move their hips, juinichi’s jaw going slack as he fucks up into your pussy. his mind getting all muddled as he panted over your shoulder. keisuke’s grunting in your ear, thrusting into your tight asshole. he’s using everything in him to not cum right there and then.

both of them ramming non stop into your holes instantly makes your mind go blank.

“feels– nmph.. good,” you whimper, tears rolling down your cheeks. keisuke’s quick to lick them off, letting out an animalistic groan. junichi just can’t get his mind off your pussy, his brain repeating ‘pussy’ a million times in his head. it’s like he’s a virgin again, you just feel so good.

junichi whimpers as he feels you clench around him tightly, making him buck his hips into you roughly. you bite your lip as you look into his pretty, glossy eyes. grabbing a fistful of his hair, you yank it. jun’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he feels the pain turn into instant pleasure.

keisuke growls while rutting into you, biting your shoulder. he can feel every ridge and bump in your hole, only making the experience better for him. shit, even he’s losing it slowly. you moan as he goes deeper into you, balls slapping against your ass and thighs.

“haaah– fuhhhckk, this hole’s real tight. ngh, feels really good,” keisuke groans while drool slips past his lips. you feel like you’re already getting closer and closer to cumming. the intense pounding of both of them makes your body jump up with every thrust.

junichi takes your tit into his mouth to suck to conceal his noises he finds embarrassing. nibbling your nipple while his mind becomes fuzzier, panting heavily why fucking you. the brothers’ look into each others eyes, they’re gonna cum soon.

they can both feel their thighs getting tired. but, that won’t stop them just yet. if one finishes first, they’re the loser. shit, keisuke it in his stomach. he’s gonna cum first. the way you’re clenching around him, the lewd sounds of your voice and your holes are making him weak. junichi chuckles lowly as he sees his brother lose it.

“mmph, gonna cum. shit, i’m gunna cummmm,” keisuke groans as he lets his fat load seep into your hole. his seed coating every inch of your hole. you whimper as you feel his warm substance fill you up. keisuke slowly pulls out, sighing. he passes out and falls on the bed a second later.

you giggle but your focus is now on junichi. his eyes always tell a story, and you can tell that he’s gonna cum soon. quickly, you pull his cock out and push him onto a nearby chair. he makes a confused sound, looking up at you.

“don’t worry, jun. you’re gonna cum eventually,” you whisper while getting down on your knees. your head’s now in between his beefy thighs. you plant wet kisses on them making his cock twitch.

his eyes are begging you to let him cum. it’s like he’s screaming it at this point. you blow onto his tip, making him squirm in the chair. jun’s gripping onto the chair handles so hard that his knuckles are becoming white.

taking his cock in your mouth, junichi moans softly, looking down at you with watery eyes. thank you. that’s what his eyes are saying. he tries to keep his hips in place as you bob your head up and down.

your hot, wet mouth engulfs his cock, making him shiver. he’s about to start crying. he’s so close, let him cum, please!!!

“ngghh– mmpph!” a string a moans and whimpers continue to come out of his mouth. his eyebrows furrowed as he shuts his eyes. gosh, he’s almost there. just a little bit more.

the way you’re swirling your tongue around his length makes him want to burst out into tears. you stop moving your head to tease him, making him buck his hips up. helplessly trying to chase high by fucking your mouth.

you make a popping sound as you take your lips off his dick. he whimpers loudly as looks at you. you start to stroke his cock slowly, looking into his eyes. tears roll down his face again as he feels it in his stomach again.

junichi’s so obvious when he’s about to cum. his moans become pitchier, thighs start shaking, and his tip gets redder. you stop and let go of his cock, making him cry out. his hips trying to find something for his cock to grind on.

the cool air hitting his dick makes his lips quiver, his eyes searching for any kind of mercy in yours. you wrap your hand around his cock again. rubbing your leftover slick all over his cock, making it slimy. your hand’s so soft and plushy, jun’s going crazy.

junichi’s eyes become half-lidded as all he could think about was cumming. his balls start to ache as you keep on playing with his dick. mind going all murky as he fucks up into your hand, shit! he’s almost there again. he can feel it! please let him cum this time!

you let go, again. he whimpers in defeat and tries to grind his length on one of the arm rests of the chair. you slap his thigh, making him wince and look at you with such a pretty, fucked out face. you felt your pussy throb as you saw his expression.

you’re most definitely gonna give it to him now.

“you’ve been so good for me, jun, so good. cum, baby. you earned it,” you say, stroking his length quickly, planting more kisses on his thighs. yes! finally! now’s the time.

jun feels his balls tighten as you keep on going. his muscles tense up as he started to drool. his pink tongue slightly hangs out his mouth, and his eyes are rolled back to his skull. fuck, the coil is snapping.

all white surrounds him while his cock spurts out loads of cum onto your face and hand. you put your mouth on his tip to swallow any leftover cum, making him twitch.

his breathing is fast. you quickly sit on his lap and hug him. playing with his hair as he comes down, humming his favorite tune.

keisuke finally wakes up and smiles.

“let’s get ourselves cleaned up,”

XRCS 2023

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homicidal-slvt · 7 months

Text

"Sweetly Crimson"

MDNI

Inspired by @silverzoomies 'Monster Mash' (Please check out their writing- it's literally incredible)

Peter Maximoff x F!Reader

Vampire!Reader

Warnings: Blood, Possibly OOC Peter

You had grown rather close to the speedster, his playful demeanor dragged you in like a magnetic force. Sure- he was a bit much at times but it was quite cute.

He doesn't know your secret though and if you were being honest- part of you considered never telling him. How would he react?

You'd certainly just die (again) if he were to freak out and leave you... You'd rather crawl into a coffin and never come out- classic vampire from movies mode activated.

Your poor speedy boy just doesn't get it- why do you never want to hang out at night time? It's like every single night you have other plans. He can't help but wonder what you're getting up to.

Curiosity killed the cat.... Well, clearly the cat wasn't fast enough, right?

••

You feel as though you're going to literally starve- and you just might. You have been so busy lately that you carelessly forgot you needed more packs of blood... You aren't about to go out and feed from some random person like a monster! Plus, who knows what diseases they might have... Ew. No way you're chomping on that.

Little did you know that Peter was going to be paying you a surprise visit, several thoughts running through his head at warp speed... He swears his skull is just a jar full of especially spastic bees.

This is a bad idea.

A more rational voice chimes in within Peter's mind, however he figures it's too late to turn back now... Just let's see if you're home, right? I mean... Not like you're doin' some freaky shit- right?

Without anymore thought his hand makes contact with the wood of your door, met with such an eerie silence that all he can hear is the chirping of crickets. He glances around your home and notices the faint glow of a lamp through the window...

"Hey, babe? Ya home?"

Weird... Felt like a chill just crawled up his spine.

Meanwhile you're crouched in the kitchen having hunger pains, hearing Peter's voice creates an internal battle of your own.

He can't see you like this... No... But- you're so hungry... And he always smells so sweet...

A few more knocks and you can't take it, feet carrying you before logical sense can kick in and tell you to stay away. Peter looks a bit startled when you open the door to let him in, his deep brown eyes widening slightly, silvery hair caught in the glow of the nearby street lamp. Woah, he didn't even hear your footfalls as you came to the door. Kinda creepy.

"Uh... Are ya alright? You look a bit under the weather there..."

"I'm fine. Come in."

He does not like how you're looking at him, the way your eyes keep fixating on the side of his neck, it looks like you're about to make a meal out of him... And not in the kinky way.

But- you're his friend. So, even with your concerning behavior he still decides to come in. Your house looks pretty normal, a few decorations here and there...

"Peter, I need to tell you something."

"Yeah? What is it? Don't tell me you're pregnant or somethin'."

He tries to lighten the mood with a joke, you always love his sense of humor or out place comments... Even when they sometimes don't fully make sense. However for once his joke falls flat- like totally crashed and burned.

He swallows nervously locking eyes with you, that same chill crawling up his spine again.... He could just make a break for it, y'know... But what kind of friend would he be if he ditched you like that? After coming here at night unannounced? Dick move.

"I'm a vampire."

You just went for it- deciding that ripping the band-aid off would be easier. He just kinda stands there and stares at you before laughing a bit, stuffing his hands into his pockets... It's October. Of course this is all just some silly prank to scare him!!! You probably decided to do this after he showed up at night like a weirdo.

"Very funny... Ya almost got me! I'm a little too quick for that though-"

"I'm not kidding."

"C'mon- just..."

He trails off while searching your expression and you seem completely serious... However he's just not buying it.

"Okay then... How come ya can come out during the day?"

"That's just an old tale..."

You sigh while gazing into his skeptical eyes, Peter would believe a lot of things but this just was not one of them. There's no way in hell his friend is a vampire!!! How could you hide something like that???

"Do you want me to prove it?"

This gains his interest slightly and you open your mouth, canines sharpened into obvious fangs. He leans back a bit with a baffled expression.

"Nah... No way. Those cannot be real."

You're starving and having to deal with Peter... Great. Why couldn't you have just not opened the door? Pretended to be asleep?

"Do you want me to fuckin' bite you?!?"

A long silence hangs in the air and that sweetness finds its way to your nose again, the temptation that dragged you to the door to begin with. You can't do that to him...

Saliva pools in your mouth and your pupils visibly dilate, you try to redirect your attention but he simply moves in closer.

"Ya mean it, don't you...? You're a vampire?"

There's a hesitant nod and you feel his hand gently brush against your face, guiding you to look up at him and meet his gaze, you can see there's so many questions lurking...

"Ya drink blood...? Gross."

Ah yes... Thanks, Peter. We were having a moment.

"Wow, dude."

You huff and lightly swat his hand and he chuckles a bit, he was a bit bothered at first by the fact you hadn't told him and all that but... He can kinda see why you'd keep it a secret. It's a big deal.

"I mean- come on. Suckin' on people like human juice boxes is kinda gross, babe."

"For your information I don't drink from people. I get blood bags."

That... Just raised so many more questions...

"But I ran out and I'm kinda starving..."

"Wait, wait, wait... Are ya actually askin' to take a bite outta me??? I guess if ya really need too..."

He trails off slightly and he's clearly uncertain about the whole thing, he doesn't exactly like the idea of getting drained like a big live smoothie.

"It won't be that bad... I promise..."

He smells so sweet...

You close in on him and he quickly moves out his hands, he could so easily just dart away and there would be no way for you to catch up but... He just can't do that to you. His hands hover over your sides and he prepares himself.

A slight sting meets his skin as your fangs sink into his neck... Oh crap... He should've asked if this would turn him. Wait- could you drain him dry??? Oh shit why didn't he think this through-

His mind speed runs several worse case scenarios before finally a different sensation sets in, it actually starts to feel kind of good... Your mouth latched onto his warm skin, feeling the thick liquid meet your tongue and the soft vibration of Peter's contented hum.

He tastes so much better than any other blood you've ever had, like crimson candy flowing down your throat. You're dragged back to reality though as you feel him begin to slump back against the wall, quickly you retract your fangs and pull away.

"Shit... Are you okay?"

"Yeah... Yeah. I've lost more blood than that before, don't worry bout' it."

You snort out a soft chuckle at his little grin, still a bit of concern lingers in your eyes though. He raises his hand touching the fang marks on his neck, a flicker of wonder in his eyes.

"So, did I taste good?"

"Gross."

"Aw, c'mon..."

{I know the ending is abrupt and not good but I tried.}

{More Content}

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x f!reader #peter maximoff x you #vee's various works

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agoldengalaxy · 4 months

Text

Bluejay at Sunset

read on Ao3

words: 1631

“He was always…” John sighed. “He was always lookin’ out for me when I first joined the gang. Back then I was just a kid. Dutch and Hosea showed me the ropes, but Arthur was the one who kept me straight, savin’ me whenever I was in trouble. That night, on the mountain, I felt like I couldn’t return the favor. Seeing him like that, so sick and still being the one to save me, I…” he looked down, feeling his eyes burn. “It don’t feel right. I never got to say goodbye.” While he fought the burning in his eyes, a gentle hand came up to rest on his shoulder.. Charles was soft as ever. “It was his choice, John.” That was what made it hurt more.

John pulled on the reins carefully, murmuring a soft word of encouragement to his horse as he approached the ridge. He pat her neck gently, then slowly slid off of the saddle, letting her graze nearby.

His heart was pounding, and he couldn’t quite tell why. It was so small, so inconsequential compared to some of the things he’d done in his life, but this felt like the absolute hardest thing he’d ever have to do. Inhaling shakily, he willed himself to walk forward.

The sun began dipping toward the horizon, bathing the world in golden light. It was almost too bright, but John pushed forward, lifting a hand up to shield his eyes. Finally, he reached the small monument, adorned in flowers that were still blossoming. He wondered if Charles was the one to put them there.

With a long sigh, John knelt down on one knee, reading the name etched into the wood. He could still hear him telling him to ‘be a goddamn man.’ Carefully, he took off his hat, resting it against his chest. “Hey, Arthur.”

A slow breeze blew by, and a small bluejay landed on top of the post, tilting its head at the man. John felt utterly ridiculous, but after all these years, he knew he had to pay his respects, even though he was sure the man in question would be laughing at him now if he could see him.

“Jack’s twelve now. He’s still reading all those silly storybooks, and gettin’ real good at it, too. Abigail keeps asking him to read to her.” He smiled, looking down at the grass. “He remembers more than I give him credit for, I guess. He told me about the time you took him fishin’. He still doesn’t like it, in case you was wondering.”

“And Abigail…well, she and I are getting married in a few days. I mean, for real this time. She thought I was joking, y’know? Guess I can’t blame her. But I’m real happy now. Got a house and a farm. Uncle and Charles have been staying with us for a while. Sadie, too. She’s a bounty hunter now, can you believe it? Well, I’m sure you can. She’s just as fierce and sharp as she was before. She’ll outlive us all. She…she misses you, I think.”

John glanced toward the skyline, the sun still not fully set. The bluejay flapped its wings, but didn’t seem to want to leave. “Hell, I…I miss you, too. I think about you all the time. The entire reason I’m happy, and free, is because of you, Arthur. I’m never gonna repay that.” His voice trembled, and he gripped his hat a little tighter. “I don’t care whether you were good, bad, somethin’ in between. You’ll always be my brother.”

Before he could continue, a twig behind him broke, and he knew it wasn't his horse. His shoulders tensed, his hand drifting toward his belt when a dejected sigh stopped him in his tracks. “Sorry. It’s just me.”

John paused, then glanced over his shoulder. “Charles? What’re you doin’ here? You should be resting.”

Charles glanced down, looking somewhat uncomfortable, but John couldn’t tell if it was because he got caught or something else. “I’m fine. Abigail…wanted me to check on you. Coming here for the first time, she knew it’d be hard. She cares about you, y’know.”

The bluejay atop the wood flapped its wings again. John watched it hop for a moment, his heart twisting with so many different emotions. “That she does.” He inhaled sharply, but let the breath out slowly. “Thanks for appeasin’ her.”

“I only said yes because I wanted to check on you, too.” He hesitated for a moment before walking over, kneeling down beside him. Because it was Charles, John didn't even think about shooing him away. “You know…buryin’ him was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and I’ve buried a lot of folks.”

John eyed him carefully. There were always dark circles under his eyes, and he always looked tired no matter how much sleep he claimed to have gotten. He wondered how many times Charles must’ve visited this site after burying him. He exhaled slowly. “Arthur would be glad to know it was you. He always thought highly of you.” When Charles quickly looked away, John wondered if he’d said something wrong. In any case, he continued. “It’s been years, but I still think he’s gonna show up at the ranch someday, tell me it was all some big joke.”

“I know what you mean.”

While he fought the burning in his eyes, a gentle hand came up to rest on his shoulder. “It was his choice, John.”

That was what made it hurt more, he thought. He could still hear it in his mind. “He said it would mean a lot to him. If I made it out alive.”

“He knew his time was up. I guess he wanted his death to mean something. Helping you was the best way he could think of doing it.” Suddenly, his grip on John’s shoulder tightened. John wasn’t sure why until he watched a tear fall from his face to the ground. Stunned, John reached up to touch his own cheek. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. He was figuring he was more shocked than sad until Charles hesitantly spoke. “Are…you okay?”

The question was a simple one, but it had always been so hard to answer. “Yeah. ‘Course,” he choked, and the floodgates immediately opened.

Suddenly he was twelve years old again. Everyone was big and scary, and he felt so alone. Back then, he had Arthur, begrudgingly sharing his bedroll, offering him a cigarette, telling him jokes. Today, Arthur was six feet below him.

As he tried to force air into his lungs, Charles let go of his arm, and instead scooted closer to place an arm around his shoulders. “It’s okay, John. Let it out. It’s okay.”

John didn’t fight it, squeezing his eyes shut and letting the tears roll. He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but when he opened his eyes again, the sun had completely disappeared below the horizon, and the sky was a deep blue. Charles had been patient the entire time, sitting there, holding him, probably watching the sunset.

When his tears subsided, he didn’t pull away just yet, and Charles didn’t move either. The latter exhaled shakily after a few minutes of silence. “…I loved him, you know.”

Glancing up, he watched the bluejay upon the wood, surprised he hadn’t scared it off with his crying. For a moment, he felt uncomfortable, even felt like he shouldn’t be this close to him, but he trusted Charles with his life. After everything he did for him, whoever he chose to love shouldn’t matter. “I didn’t know you swung that way, Charles.”

“I didn’t either, ‘till I met that poor bastard.” He sighed softly, carefully letting go of John’s shoulders. “Never got to tell him before…well. It was probably for the best.”

John blew out a breath. He couldn’t have been sure about what Arthur was thinking, but he could guess. “Maybe. No matter how he felt, though, I know he liked you. Probably the most out of any folk.” Charles looked away, a blush rising up to his cheeks, and John smiled slightly, wishing things had been different. He decided not to dwell on it much. “Was it you that’s been leavin’ the flowers, then?”

“Yes. I’m…gonna miss visiting him when I leave for the north.”

“Do you really gotta go?” John asked, feeling a little more like himself now that his eyes weren’t leaking. “I mean, you know you can stay as long as you want.”

Charles smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m grateful for that. Really. But I need to…I have to get out there. I have to move on.” He nodded toward the grave. “Seeing you, and Abigail, and Jack…makes me wonder if I could have a life like that. It just won’t happen here.”

“I understand.” Glancing up, he noticed the sky had become deeper blue, littered with faint stars. The bluejay flapped its wings and took off, soaring toward the mountains. John watched it go. “Well, I don’t have any concerns about you havin’ that kinda life. You’ll find a nice lady - or, uh, feller - and you’ll be happy.”

Charles smiled again, this time a bit more genuine. “How can you be sure?”

“‘Cause you’re the best of all of us. If I can do it, you sure as hell can do it, buddy.” Taking a deep breath, strangely feeling much better, John stood up, offering his hand. “C’mon. I got a bottle of whiskey with our names on it back at the ranch.”

“If Uncle didn’t get to it first.”

“If he did, I’ll kill him.” They began walking, but each paused for a moment to look back at the grave one more time. John placed his hat back on his head. “Goodbye, Arthur.”

Together, they mounted their horses, and rode back home, reminiscing fondly, because Arthur would have preferred it to tears.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #john marston #charles smith #arthur morgan #charthur #im so unwell honestly #fucking cowboys #anyway enjoy #john deserves to cry a little #as a treat #my writing #agoldengalaxy #my post

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mephinomaly · 5 months

Text

[TL] PYSCHOBREAK/Chapter 17

[ This post uses Ois~su ♪ ]

Rei: In actuality, during the battle to exterminate the delinquents, not a single one of them showed face. Therefore, UNDEAD won the DreFes by default.

That is how it was supposed to go. In the dream, I was able to identify one of the delinquents that was not originally there.

That boy was our culprit. In our dream, it was only possible to exist if we were close to our bodies.

Therefore, in order for him to rewrite history, he would need to be at least nearby.

He must have sensed we were trying to go back in time to do something, so he grew anxious and came to check on us. At that point I discovered who exactly it was and belayed him.

And that is why I did not immediately go on stage, as I was in the audience searching for the culprit. It wasn’t that I was unmotivated, really really.

Koga: Even in the real timeline you didn’t get on stage.

Kaoru: Right~, it was a once-in-a-lifetime debut live, how could you miss it? That’s what you told me since I used to skip class and stuff a lot.

Adonis: I agree. I felt like that too. I was uneasy and scared, I almost hated Sakuma-senpai for not showing up.

Rei: Eh? What are you all blaming me for everything lately!?

A-anyhow, once I had identified the culprit's face, the rest was quite simple. Once I had returned to the real timeline, all I had to do was find him.

Once we had done as such, he lost control of HELLSING and the bots stopped functioning, leading us to where we are now.

Adonis: So the culprit has been disposed of, and the situation has been fixed…?

Koga: That’s great ‘n all, but what about now? What about this current situation?

We’re in the middle of a live!? The culprit’s bound t’be pissed off, since we stopped his plan— it’ll be bad if HELLSING is stopped now!

Fans from all over the country have travelled here to see us perform!

We can’t stop jus’ ‘cos somethin’ came up!

Rei: Kukuku. You are surprisingly sharp, however on the other hand, you can be surprisingly dim-witted and silly too.

Koga: Haa!?

Rei: Look at them.

Koga: You mean HELLSING?

Rei: Umu. Let us become HELLSING’s representatives. I’m not exactly sure what representing our representatives entails but—

The public is unaware of the existence of these fakes, so to them, HELLSING is simple an offshoot of UNDEAD.

Let’s look at it from the public’s point of view. The real Kaoru-kun, Koga, Adonis-kun and I– us four, make up HELLSING.

Koga: …Yeah but, that’s not possible? Ya know, ‘cos you two wimpy senpais insist on doin’ those variety shows?

Kaoru: Ohh, don’t be silly. Variety shows are a lot of work, you know? Whilst it doesn’t tie directly into what we do on stage, it definitely helps.

There’s already a difference in ability between us, the two main attractions of UNDEAD, and you guys. So I guess it just widens the gap between us?

Don’t hold us back, ‘kay? ♪

Koga: HaA!? Bring it on playboy! Unlike you who slacks off all the time, I practise so hard everyday it could kill me!

Watch out! I’ll have you beggin’ for mercy, screamin’ out like “noooo～I’ll never be able to beat Koga-sama and Adonis-sama!”

Rock’n’roll…!

♪～♪～♪

Rei: Kukuku. You’re rather good at lighting a fire beneath Koga, Kaoru-kun.

Kaoru: I was only copying you～？

Adonis: Fufu. I’m happy. We’re starting to look like ourselves again.

If we have each other, we’ll be okay no matter what happens.

I believe that. Believe me, you can entrust everything to me.

Let us put our body and soul into our song and dance. That is what I can do, and that is my joy and happiness.

I won’t let those vampires, I won’t let anyone take the place where I belong from me!

♪～♪～♪

Kaoru: Woah, it’s rare to see Adonis-kun get this hyped up ♪

Rei: He’s always been a quiet but passionate boy.

Well then. We can’t let our kohai out shine us, can we? Let’s do our best too.

Kaoru: Yupyup. Don’t hurt your back though, old man ♪

I’m also pretty pissed at the culprit, so it’ll be a good stress reliever to sing and dance the best I can.

I have to let him know it’s impossible to replace any of us.

So today, I’ll show him how serious I can be.

♪～♪～♪

Rei: (Kukuku. Bravo, bravo. I was worried how things would go but— in the end, everything ended rather amicably, as usual.)

(That world is nothing more. A happy, propitious ending.)

(Ah, it’s so bright…The stage always has been. The stage is filled with a radiance that could burn me alive.)

(I cannot laugh at the culprit. I too, once averted my gaze from this brightness and turned my back on the stage.)

(However, I have no intention to do that now.)

(I will bask in its brilliancy. Even if it turns me to ash, this is my long-cherished ambition.)

(So what now? Are you watching, you foolish, pathetic criminal?)

(Back then, there was a pitiful adolescent Sakuma Rei who had lost all hope for the world.)

(―Aren’t you jealous of me ♪)

♪～♪～♪

Tonight, we feast! Breath in HELLSING, and let us into your soul—Us, UNDEAD, will grow ever stronger!

We are UNDEAD!

No matter if an army a million men strong attacks us, even if we are consumed by hellfire, UNDEAD will be reborn from those flames again and again! We will be resurrected!

Until my last breath, nay, beyond that! We will burn brightly for eternity, even in the depths of hell! Join us, and allow this enjoyable feast to begin!

If that is what you desire, this radical, immoral, sweet night will never end!

♪～♪～♪

[ ☆ ]

Chapter 16

Epilogue 1

#ensemble stars #enstars #translation #koga oogami #rei sakuma #adonis otogari #kaoru hakaze #undead climax

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saintdark · 1 year

Text

xxGermanBodyShopxx

I have never written a fanfic before! Please be nice, constructive criticism and being rude are two very different things. This is VERY 18+. This chapter has nothing NSFW but several trigger warnings: Abuse, kidnapping, manipulation, age gap, reader is like 18-19 and Strade is like 30 somethin. Everyone is a little OOC, and gender!neutral reader! Also, not very long- still trying to convince myself to actually get out there.

xxGermanBodyShopxx: Hey, just checking in on you kiddo. Need to chat?

xxANONxx: Thanks Strade. Things at home feel like they’re kinda just getting worse but its okay. I don’t want to bother you with it.

xxGermanBodyShopxx: It sounds like it hasn’t gotten better in a while. You’re an adult, why don’t you just leave?

xxANONxx: I wouldn’t have anywhere to go, and my sisters... I can’t abandon them.

xxGermanBodyShopxx: He doesn’t target them, just you. You have me. You can live with me, you know that.

xxANONxx: I’m 3 hours out of your way, I couldn’t.

xxGermanBodyShopxx: Silly Hase. Of course, I’ll get you! You said theres a 711 nearby, correct?

xxANONxx: ..Yeah. Let’s do it.

We met online almost a year ago to this date, the abuse from home began picking up more and more as I turned 18. Online was truly my only escape, no work because no car. No car because no work. It’s such an unfair cycle, how is someone supposed to tooth and claw their way up in this world? That’s when I met Strade, meeting on a 18+ chat. It was sexual, scary stuff some would call it: discussing rape or cnc, blood play, knife play, rope, etc. It grew into genuine fondness and good conversation of unlike things, and most nights we would call or facetime of some sort. I felt so much less alone.

Those calls meant everything to me, he was very charming and outgoing, and I genuinely could never describe myself that way. He took the lead in every aspect, decisive and sure. He was stable and consistent. All I have ever wanted in a person, in life.

3AM at the Gas Station

The anxiety in my body was slowly but surely turning into some severe nausea, and shakiness. The gas station was practically empty aside from one older man and the young attendant who looked high out of his mind. “You’re a cutie! Whatcha doin’ in such a shady place pretty lady?” The older man shouts from around the small bend towards me. I freeze, I was too in my own noggin to even consider that someone might question why I was probably looking suspicious. “Oh-I uhm.” The front doorbell jingles and walks in Strade. It was surreal seeing him in person, and honestly, surprised he came. “Ah, sorry to keep you waiting Liebe. Picked us up some food for the drive back home!” My body finally relaxed as I heard and saw the familiar German, fast paced walking towards him, only to be pulled into a tight embrace. “Let’s go home.”

It's a long drive home, but conversation is smooth and it’s like nothing was different. He was still sweet, talkative, if anything he was just more intense. I tried to ignore the missing door handle, he works on cars, right? Maybe something happened and he couldn’t fix it today? I didn’t want to think of why he wouldn’t have fixed it before I got in the car. “So, Hase. There are several ground rules to you living within my home.” He pauses, waiting for a response but only met with a nod.

In exchange for not working and me taking care of you, housework, cooking, cleaning, and some other projects will be for you to do.

You’re going to be presented to the neighborhood as my fiancé. Play. The. Part.

You’ll need to learn some medical basics. Stitches, bandaging, splints, etc. Don’t ask questions.

Behave, do what I say, and I wont do anything to hurt you outside the bedroom, ok?

Where the fuck did this come from?! “I-I What? I thought..” he chortles. “Yeah. I’m sure you did. You were born to be controlled, and you will live that way too. You never were good at making choices for yourself, little hase.” I feel the connection in my synapses click. I felt safe with him because it wasn’t something I didn’t already know. I loved him because he’d think when I didn’t want to. He listened to gather more information to control, not for love. “I’m actually being VERY kind. You wanted out. I got you out, no? You’ll see, youll live quite well compared to… the others I bring home.” His tone was ice. I believed him. Still thought he was a motherfucker for that though.

#btd strade #btd #strade #boyfriend to death #btd2 #strade x reader #authorhaslotsofanxiety #the price of flesh #cw: gore #cw:kidnapping #cw:abuse #cw: manipulation

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dabisbratz · 10 months

Note

i love your content so much you don’t even understanddddd!

recently i’ve been trying to get into writing but i’m so scared. i write something and overthink so much i delete the whole thing which is crazy exhausting. that also makes me lose motivation

how do you go about writing??

sorry if this sounds stupid but i need some help. And idk if i’m allowed to talk to you this way bc i’m not a mutual but i just admire your work sm! (_･･_)

feel free to ignore this though if you don’t wanna answer (＾-＾) promise i don’t mind!

thankyouthankyou !! bubs this is so unrelated but omgie !!! your layout is sososososo pretty n nice !! so organized!! m’in love !! ꒰♡˃̶̤́ ꒳ ˂̶̤̀ ꒱

first things first !! easiest way tget over your fear of writin … is postin it. sounds kinda silly n counterproductive but !! s’really the only way ycan get used to it!! ycan try postin silly stuff on a burner f’you want!! but really.. most of the anxiety n fear comes from the initial post n before then!! it’s veryvery worth it afterwards, n you’ll be so confused s’to why ywere scared in the first place !! sometimes all yneed is some encouragement, f’theres anyone ywanna share your work with before postin i highly recommend doin that!! gets some nerves out n yget some good words about your writin to build confidence !!

most importantly.. s’jus for fun! ydont have to write this crazyyy detailed, descriptive, shakespearean type novel with big words n scriptures !! it’s all for fun! you’re not writin for anyone but yourself, yknow? if you like it, that’s enough!! speakin from experience.. tryin t’write somethin for other people never goes well. leads to a lot of burnout n confidence issues :c

instead of deletin what you’ve written, save it n make another fic with the same preface! i did that a lot in my nerd!eren series, n i found that the second time around always ‘felt’ better than the first ! it helps with collectin your thoughts n bein able to put ‘em into words! then if you like that better, try incorporatin it into what you wrote in the first draft ! f’you don’t wanna do that, sometimes y’find that first draft works a lot better for a whole different character or plot point ! c; hold onto everythin y’write !!

usually when mwritin for somethin (especially a request) there’s a scene that they inspire that pops right !! into m’head the second i read it. n i get super excited t’write that scene!! soooo!! m’start there!! right the scene you’re realreal excited for, then work around it. most of the time (at least for me) more n more ideas that would work well with it end up bein added!! that’s what gives a fic y’like personally !

not stupid at all !! n of course you are !! anyone can talk t’me!! but jus so yknow.. we’re mutuals now anyway ;p !! f’there’s anythin else botherin you mcan try mbest to help ໒꒰ྀི ´ . .̫ . ` ꒱ྀིა !

#toybox—astrokatsuki #your user is soso cute too !!

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sign-anon · 4 days

Note

[Cough cough don't mind me just doin a lil something that will probably lead to... Somethin... Yeah. Also hai]

*There's a note on the bed.*

Dear Sign.

Hello. And goodbye. I guess. I've written this note over a hundred times and I still don't know if I got it right or not.

Sign, oh Sign. I miss you. So, so much. I miss your laugh. Your smile. Your voice. Your body. I miss you so much. And I fear I'll never be able to get any of that back. I felt so close to finally being loved by you. But it was never going to be true. I was just starting to dream the silliest of dreams, Sign. I was dreaming so much. You were happy. I was happy. Everyone was happy. And we were living together. With our son. And I would always try to teach him how to fly everyday. And I would give you the world whenever you asked. And we would always love each other forever. Oh how I miss those dreams. Those silly, far dreams.

I heard what you said. I know how you feel. You're happy with Avian and you're happy and laughing. And you feel free from my chains. I know. Everytime I look at you or think about you my heart feels like it gets ripped to shreds. I see how you're so happy now and how I always got in the way and how I could never be better for you. I get reminded how bad I was for you and how I never spent time with you. I was so caught up and tied and lost in my fantasies and my friends and crushes and my desire to protect that the only one I should have been protected, I abandoned. I acted a fool. I will live, and I will die, a fool.

I've spent too long trying to move on from you. From us. From all of this mess. It's like a trap. An addiction. I feel as if I must break free but everytime I escape this web of mess and lies. I find myself right back where I started. Scared. Alone. And vulnerable. I've broken you. Destroyed you. Hurt you. And make promises and deals that I never kept. I understand if you might never like me again. And I understand if you don't want to talk to me or think about me anymore. But I feel lost without you. I felt like when I was lost deep in the darkness, I could reach out and find you, so you could light my path. Everyday I try and try and fail again to end this endless loop of what once was. I fear I never will. Im trying to move on from you and trying to see someone else but I don't think it's going to be the same without you by my side. You were such a great partner, better that what I could ever ask for. And you deserve an even better person, even if I beg for you to come back.

But now I'll never be able to dream again. I think about you always. But I know I'll never have you back. I'm sorry. And I wish I wasn't so blind when we had each other. I'm sorry. But I can't bare to even think about you, because it rips me apart. If I'm ever your very last hope, I'll help you. You know where to find me.

Forever yours.

Bob.

*There's a small box next to the note. Inside is a VHS tape.*

*sign pauses as he picks up the tape. he feels weird, reading this. he knows that two months ago, reading this would have sent him running back to bob, crying and apologizing and begging for forgiveness. but two months ago, bob would never have had to give him this. bob would never have even thought of it, because they never could have known that... sign sighs, very gently folding up the note and putting it in a drawer in his desk. then he stares at the tape. he doesnt even have a vcr player, nor does he know anyone who would. how is he supposed to watch this?*

[heyyyyy welcome back! are you doing better?]

#tadc anon

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iwillgiveyoumyhappiness · 2 years

Text

Jeon Wonwoo (전원우)

Happy birthday to you~

Happy birthday, dear Zeta ( @jeonwonhi )~

Happy birthday to you!

You are lovable, you are beautiful, and you deserve somethin’ good in your life. I can’t give you much, but take this Established Relationship!AU Wonwoo fluff as an offering ^-^

You sat at the desk in your home office, tapping away at your keyboard. You sighed, taking a moment to rub your sore neck. You adjusted your glasses, squinting and widening your eyes to see if it was you that was woozy, or the words on the screen.

In the midst of your mission to prove that your Google Docs had grown sentient and started swimming around on its own, you heard the door open. You checked the time with a furrowed brow.

There’s no way he should be home yet.

You spun around in your wheely chair, and before you could even get a word out, Jeon Wonwoo came bursting through the office door, immediately walking over, scooping you up, and tossing you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

You let out a surprised squeak. “Woo?!” you gasped. “What the hell are you doin’?”

Wordlessly, he just hauled you off to your shared bedroom plopping you down on the bed, pulling down the sheets, and tucking you under them. You furrowed your brows in confusion. “Woo, I don’t—”

“Sleep,” he said sternly, pointing at you like some puppy he was teaching to ‘stay’.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s 2PM!” you said. “And I have work, Woo. Don’t be silly.” You started pulling the sheets off and sitting up, but he was quick to push you back down (gently, of course).

“You’ve been working nonstop for God knows how long,” he said, large, warm hands still pinning your shoulders down as he towered above you with a concerned look in your eyes. “You’re tired all the time, you don’t have time for the things you really love, and you’re getting dark circles. You look like a burnt-out panda.”

You weren’t quite sure how to feel. Offended that he just called you a panda, or grateful that he ditched work just because he was worried and wanted to take care of you.

You met his eyes, sighing a little bit. “I appreciate it, love, I really do,” you said. “But I do have a deadline to meet. I can’t just go to bed at 2PM and expect things to finish themselves up.” He seemed to acknowledge that much, his death grip loosening a bit. “Can I get up now?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Not a chance,” he said. He laid down diagonally from you, plopping his legs over your body like a cage and causing you to lose all the air in your lungs for a split second. “I didn’t ditch work just for my plans to fall through. You’re gonna take a nap. 30 minutes, no complaints. That’s all I ask.”

You found yourself laughing again at the ridiculousness of the situation. Though maybe... You were a little twitterpated as well. “I can’t just fall asleep on command!” you insisted, smacking one of his calves.

“Then I’ll put you to sleep,” he said confidently, poking you playfully in the side with his sock feet. You gave him a look that said ‘oh, yeah? try me bitch’, but he still looked sure of himself. “Hand me my book,” he said, gesturing to the one sitting on the edge of the bedside table.

“What’re you gonna do?” you chuckled, handing it to him. “Read me a bedtime story like a little kid?”

He nodded. “Pretty much, yeah.” He gave you a look. “I have plenty of examples of how much you love my voice,” he said, lighting a subtle fire on your cheeks. “Plus, aren’t you the one who said my voice puts you at ease?” he asked, flipping open to the first chapter.

So there he went with his deep, comforting voice reading you your very own bedtime story. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you started to drift off after he got on a roll.

You could barely make out some sweet words directed at you in your half-sleep state, but right before you fell deep into your REM cycle, you were definitely, 100% sure you felt a soft kiss on your forehead.

#Seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #Svt #svt fluff #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #happy birthday #I love you

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chronically-sawyer-pilled · 5 months

Text

TCSM Sissy x Fem!Reader

"Sweet Sugar" Part 3

Part 1

18+, Minors BEGONE (DNI)

Warnings for whole story: NSFW, Murder, Cannibalism, Drugging, Coercion, Slight noncon, Unwanted touching, Abuse, Blood, Knifeplay, Bondage, Kidnapping, Sweat stuff, human faces being worn, pet names (sweetie, sugar, sunshine) general horror themes. This is a work of pure fiction, pure horror fiction - the actions in this story are not to be taken as positive depictions of affection.

The clicking of chains awoke you from your hazy slumber, followed by dim light flooding into the closet as the doors were swung open. You looked over to see Sissy, grinning like a kid who just got a puppy for Christmas. "Hey sweetie, did you sleep well?" She cooed, you tried to respond, but all you could produce was a pathetic moan. "Oh sugar don't worry, you don't gotta talk. Our bond is deeper than words. I'm sorry I had to keep you in here, but I couldn't risk the others findin' you. You're my little secret, and I won't let them take you away from me. ESPECIALLY that Johnny. He won't even touch you." She smiled, pulling you out of the closet and onto the floor, cradling you in your bound form. The pain of all the scrapes, bruises and cuts along your arms made you wince. "Oh you poor little thing. Here, let me help you." Sissy sighed, reaching for a stack of bottles resting on a wooden bench. Still cradling you in her arms, she poured the contents of the bottle onto a brand new rag, humming to herself all the while. "Now, this'll sting a little. That bastard Johnny will get his comeuppance for doin' this to you I promise, but for now, just - relax." She sighed, landing a soft kiss on your forehead before dabbing your wounds with the rag, causing you to hiss and whine into the gag with every touch. It felt like acid was being poured into a salted wound, it burned like nothing you'd ever felt before, even the numbing properties of whatever drug Sissy had slipped you wasn't enough to quell the pain. "I whisper words, you come to me. The song I sing, for all to see. The past is gone, and now I know - inside this cell, nowhere to go~" Sissy hummed, her voice dancing its way into your head, each lyric off her tongue drawing you in, like a hypnotic spell. "Oh love, my love, look at your love~" She continued, her voice was beautiful, like a siren song. You focused on her voice, on the melody, and soon the pain melted away.

When Sissy had finished cleaning your wounds, she placed you gently against the closet, wandering back to her bench, still singing to herself. You tried to vocalise to her, to get her attention, but all that escaped your throat was a dry wheeze. You were so thirsty - the gag mixed with the powder had dried your throat out completely. Sissy turned back to face you, staring into your wide, pleading eyes. "What's wrong sugar?!" She cried, on the verge of tears as she dashed to your side, brushing her fingers across your cheek "What's wrong?! Tell me." "Mmf…" You muttered into the gag "I… I can't hear what you want!." Sissy stared, her tone dropping, becoming irritated and angry. "mmmmf…." "WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME?!" Sissy cried, gritting her teeth as she grabbed at your hair, taking quick heavy breaths that were almost snarls. "Alright. This better be good." She hissed as she pulled the gag from your mouth. "Thirsty…" you whispered, your voice sore and hoarse, all moisture sapped from your mouth. Sissy stared for a moment, the anger fading away as quickly as it appeared. "Ohhh, of course!! Silly me, I was tryna read what your soul was tellin' me, but your body was tryna do the talkin'. Gosh, how could I make such a mistake. I'll get you somethin' sugar, you'll feel right as rain!" Sissy giggled, skipping back over to her alchemy table. You enjoyed your slight reprieve, being able to breathe through your mouth was a welcome feeling despite the dryness. "I got what you need, sugar." Sissy cooed, placing a few bottles down before wandering over to you, swaying her body hypnotically as she moved. She dropped down to her knees, shuffling onto your lap, inching closer and closer to your face, and trailing a finger softly across your cheek, slowly down to your lips, gently opening your mouth. With a sudden movement, Sissy pressed her mouth to yours, parting your lips with her tongue and spitting into your mouth; a strange, sour liquid made its way down your throat, Sissy's tongue collided with your own, circling around, spreading the viscous liquid. You desperately tried not to swallow, all attempts at pulling away were futile as Sissy held your head in place, every moan of protest and desperation was met with Sissy's tongue reaching further down your throat, making you gag and whine. Sissy's free hand parted ways with your cheek and made its way down your neck and into your overalls, her fingers danced their way towards your bra. She squeezed gently, the feeling foreign to you, new. What were only gentle squeezes spread jolts of hot, violent pleasure to every inch of your body, culminating in your groin. Sissy continued to squeeze, touch, prod and poke until she suddenly pulled away, leaving you staring emptily, your tongue lolling out of your lips. "As much as I'd LOVE to continue, I've got somethin' I've got to do." Sissy smiled, fitting the gag back into your mouth, and shoving you back into the closet. "Be a good girl and don't go anywhere." Sissy grinned, closing the closet doors and clicking the chain back into place. Your thoughts were hazy, in fact, you weren't thinking much at all. You just replayed the sensation of Sissy's tongue over and over again, the feeling of her hands, that hot, burning sensation in your groin. You were sweating, your hands were clasped behind your back but you longed to touch yourself, you were desperate for it, more desperate than you'd ever been, however your yearning was cut off by a mans voice from outside the door

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?! THAT GIRL IS STILL MISSIN' AND YOU'RE MEANT TO BE FINDIN' HER!" the man yelled, his voice stressed, he was clearly an older man, much older than Johnny. "DON'T YELL AT ME YOU BASTARD! I'M GETTIN' TO IT! IT'S ALL JOHNNY'S FAULT THAT SHE'S LOST YOU KNOW!" Sissy's voice echoed back "YOU TWO ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME YOU KNOW THAT! IF YOUD'A JUST KILLED THE GIRL OUTRIGHT THIS WHOLE MESS WOULD HAVE BEEN OVER BY NOW! GET LOOKING!" He yelled, his voice disappearing along with Sissy's, followed by the slam of a door and the hum of an engine - they were gone.

You tugged at your restraints, the ropes burning your wrists with each pull, whatever Sissy had drugged you with seemed to amplify all feelings tenfold, the good and the bad. You thought of Sophie, you thought of home. Would you ever see your friends again? Your family? All things once so trivial were now so out of reach. Tears began to well in your eyes, you were trapped here, unable to scream for help, unable to escape. If the others found you they'd kill you, like they killed Sophie. You were scared, so scared, the only times that fear seemed to relent was when you thought of Sissy.

So you thought of her.

#texas chainsaw massacre sissy #sissy tcm #tcm sissy #texas chainsaw game #ttcsm #sissy slaughter #texas chainsaw massacre #sissy x reader #character x reader

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callmeoops · 2 years

Text

Light in the Dark - Chapter Ten

Warnings: Dixon Potty Mouth

Angsty lil’ chapter here. Sowwy.

Olivia wasn’t allowed to sleep in the house, so she slept out in Daryl’s tent. It was weird being alone again, especially knowing that Daryl was nearby. She hoped he was sleeping better in the house than she was out in the tent.

She wished it was something important that was keeping her awake. She wished it was thoughts of her brothers or her birthday in twelve days or…something other than the silly fact that she missed Daryl. It was childish and dumb. Twenty-three years had gone by without Daryl to sleep next to her and she’d slept just fine. Now she was just being clingy. Daryl didn’t seem like he did clingy. And once she got over this high of being in a new relationship, she wouldn’t do clingy either.

But her body wasn’t cooperating, and she was jittery and anxious while waiting for morning’s light.

She had almost fallen asleep when she swore she heard rustling outside the tent. Her eyes closed, trying to hear the noise better. A stick snapped and that was all she needed to get herself up to investigate.

Then a hand fell on the tent. She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. Grabbing her knife, she pushed herself into the corner of the tent to wait. The zipper slowly slid up. Walkers couldn’t do that, could they?

A hand pushed the flap back, Daryl stepping into the tent without a glance, turning to zip it back shut.

“Jesus-“

“The fuck?” Daryl jumped, having not realized that she was awake. “Hell you doin’? Gunna stab me ‘er somethin’?”

Olivia looked at the knife and shrugged, “Gunna stab whoever was breaking into our tent.”

“Jesus woman.” He muttered, rubbing his chest, “Gunna give me a heart attack. M’old ya know?”

“You’re supposed to be resting inside, Old Man.” Olivia teased, putting her knife away and laying back down.

Daryl shrugged, climbing under the blankets with her. He nudged her up so he could put his arm under her. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Olivia’s heart fluttered. She snuggled in closer, gently squeezing his hand, “Me either.”

The next day was nice and lazy and Olivia loved it. Especially since she didn’t sleep much the night before.

Hershel’s farm would be a nice place to stay if she thought the old man would let them. He seemed to be more and more annoyed with their group as time went on though.

She thought about asking to go on a run for antibiotics that Hershel had complained about, but something told her Daryl wouldn’t be open to that idea without going with her and he needed rest.

Andrea stopped by to bring Daryl a book. Olivia sat in the tent and glared at her the entire time, not saying a word.

“What, no pictures?” Daryl asked, flipping through it.

“Look, I know it’s not much. But if there’s anything I can do….” She looked between Olivia and Daryl, “I feel like shit about this whole thing.”

Olivia scoffed. She should feel bad. How many people had told her not to fire? And yet, she did anyway.

“Nah,” Daryl contradicted Olivia’s wordless expression, “you were protectin’ the group. We’re good.”

Olivia rolled her eyes, going back to folding her laundry.

Andrea smiled, moving to leave the pair alone before Daryl stopped her. “Hey. Shoot me again, bes’ pray I’m dead.”

Daryl felt well enough the next day to be up and moving around. Olivia helped Carol make breakfast for everyone. It was only eggs, nothing supremely fancy.

“Nothing compared to T-Dog’s luxury powdered eggs.” Olivia had teased, scooping some onto his plate.

Daryl moved to stand when she finally walked over with her own plate. There weren’t many chairs, but he needed it more than she did.

“Sit.” She told him, placing a gentle hand on his chest, “I’m just fine right here.” She sat down in front of him between his legs so she could lean back against the chair. Her tilted up so she could look at him and smile.

Their peaceful breakfast did not last long as Glenn announced that there were walkers in the barn.

The group hung back while Shane investigated. Wasn’t hard to tell with the noises what was inside though.

Olivia clung to Daryl’s side while Rick and Shane argued about what to do next. She could see their points. It wasn’t safe to stay at the farm, not with walkers. But at the same time, Sophia was still out there, as Carol pointed out.

“I’m close to finding that girl. I just found ‘er doll the other day an’-”

“That’s what you did, Daryl. You found a doll.” Shane patronized, shaking his head.

Olivia released Daryl, stepping forward, “Don’t you dare diminish the work he’s done for that girl, Shane.”

Daryl pulled her back, then tried to jump the other man when he said that Sophia would run in the other direction from Daryl. Olivia wanted nothing more than to punch Shane in the damn face.

She understood that chances were slim, but there was nothing wrong with what they were doing. There was nothing wrong with staying there and searching for Sophia. If they can clear the barn, things will be golden.

“What are you doing?” Olivia asked Daryl later in the morning. He was digging their tent, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder.

“Hells it look like? Goin’ to find that girl.”

She feared that was his response. “How about I go? Andrea and Rick are going in a couple hours too. You need to rest and heal.”

“M’fine.” He muttered stubbornly, brushing past her.

“Daryl, please.” She called after him, rushing to catch up and grab his hand.

He yanked it from her, spinning around to face her. It was clear from the hard gaze his eyes gave her that he was upset with her for asking him to stay back. “J-just let me go in your place.” Her voice was meek under his stare. “If you bust those stitches-“ “Didn’t get no say when you took off with Glenn.” Daryl growled. “Don’t get no say in this.”

“That was different.” She fought back, taking a deep breath. “I had Glenn with me. If you want to go out then let me go with you.”

Daryl broke his gaze then, biting the side of his thumb. “Dun wantcha goin’ out on horse. You ain’t in good shape with yer blood. End up fallin’ like I did.”

“But it’s okay for you to go out, injured mind you, and end up like you did? If you don’t want me to take a horse, I won’t, but Daryl I need you to stay back and heal.”

“That what this is?” He gestured between them, now burning bright, “You bossin’ me ‘round tellin’ me what I can and cannot do? Ain’t nobody’s bitch, ya hear?”

Olivia reeled back. Where the hell did this come from? “I-I’m not trying to…boss you around, Daryl-“

“That’s why yer tellin’ me I can’t go?”

“I’m not saying that! I never said that! I said let me go. You said no. I said if you go, take me with you. You said no. I-I just…I’m trying to find a solution we’re both okay with. You’re hurt Daryl. You need rest.”

“Don’t give a shit what I need.”

“Okay, then care about what I need. I need-“

“Don’t give a shit ‘bout what you need neither! Ain’t my boss and ya ain’t my damn keeper. I’m goin’ out lookin’ for ‘er an’ ya ain’t gunna stop me!” He waved her off, storming away.

Olivia took a deep breath and closed her eyes. He was worried about Sophia. She knew that. He was just worried about Sophia. He didn’t mean it; he was just worried…. How many times was she going to justify people treating her poorly due to their own emotions?

Carol came up behind her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, “You okay? He’s just worried-“

“It doesn’t matter.” Olivia looked at her, “He has no right to do that to me. I understand he’s upset, but he can’t take that out on those of us who don’t deserve it. I-“ Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over onto her cheeks, “I have dealt with that shit too long. I don’t deserve that anymore. If that’s how he wants to be, then fine. But I want no part in it.”

And with that she took off as well, grabbing her bag and her gun and letting her legs carry her wherever they pleased.

.--.

Carol confronting Daryl that morning didn’t go any better than Olivia doing so.

She let Daryl cool off a bit and then followed him along the path by the water.

“Sorry ‘bout this mornin’.” He muttered after pointing out another Cherokee flower. She knew he felt bad. He always did after his fuse blew and he lashed out. But there was someone else who needed the apology more than herself.

“You’re going to drive her away if you keep doing that to her.” Carol told him. He glanced over at her but said nothing, so she continued, “I talked to her after you walked away and Daryl…you can’t do that to her.”

He nodded slowly, the only real sign he was listening. “I know why you do it. She knows why you do it too. But…you gotta find a better outlet for that, honey. You can’t take your emotions out on her.”

She let the words hang in the air, almost waiting for him to blow up at her again. He didn’t though. The raging fire had subsided.

“You’re a good man, Daryl. You’ve done more for my daughter than her daddy ever did for her his whole life.” She reached out slowly and pulled him in to kiss his head, “You’re important too though. That’s all her and I want you to see.”

.--.

“Have you seen Lori or Olivia?” Carol’s voice echoed in the night. His chest tightened just a bit too much at the fact that, no, he doesn’t know where Olivia is and apparently the group doesn’t either.

“Stupid bitch probably went lookin’ for Rick.” Daryl snaps. It’s easier than confronting the mixture of sadness, anger, and now, fear, of the day. “Asked me to go look for him. Told her I was done bein’ an errand boy.”

“Olivia or Lori?”

Daryl swallowed, “Lori.”

“You don’t know where Olivia is? No one has seen her since your fight.”

He took a breath, poking the fire. He didn’t want to think about that. She was probably with someone in the group. She was smart.

“You cannot tell me you don’t care that she’s been missing all day, Daryl.” Carol moved to stand in front of him.

When she got silence as a response, she shook her head and took off with a final sentence, “Don’t take your emotions out on her, Daryl.”

The next time he saw Carol, a few hours later, she was sneaking around his camp.

“The hell you think yer doin’?” He glared at her.

“It’s been twelve hours since we’ve seen her, Daryl.” Carol turned to face him, “You heard Shane. We have 48 hours, that’s four 12-hour windows. One of those 12 hours is gone, Daryl. You don’t have to care about me or my daughter or this group, but Shane is off finding Lori, and someone needs to find Olivia.”

“An’ why is that me?” He yelled, pointing to himself and getting in her face.

Carol stared at him for a long moment, eyes getting sadder and sadder as the seconds ticked by. “Because I though you, of all the people in this group, really, truly cared for her.” She looked down at the ground and took a breath, “But I guess not. I’ll go ask someone else.”

Then she turned around and walked away.

.--.

Light from the flashlight in his mouth wobbled as Daryl followed the trail through the woods. It had been hard to find at first, the group and the events of the day mucking up the tracks. He’d caught it though and hoped it didn’t run cold like Sophia’s.

He kept his eyes strictly on the imprints of her shoes unless he heard a potential walker. Walkers in the woods. Olivia was an adult. An adult with a weapon, hopefully. This would have a better outcome.

The trail suddenly veered off to the left and Daryl paused. He lowered his crossbow, taking the light from his mouth and shining it to see what was ahead. There didn’t appear to be anything of interest. Thoughts of walkers still flashed through his head.

He took a deep breath and followed this new trail.

If she’d been gone for 12 hours then she had to do a lot of walking. A lot of leaving, even.

His heart sunk. Had she been trying to leave the group? Had she been trying to leave him? Carol was right. He drove her away by taking his emotions out on her. He was so stupid sometimes.

Why couldn’t he just do this right? The one thing that he wanted to go right in his life, and he kept fucking it up. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe this was the world’s way of telling him that she was too good for him, that she deserved better than some Georgia redneck.

Still, as much as he tried not to, he did care. Carol had been right about that. The equally broken girl somehow still shone like the ray of light in the dark and the longer he basked in that light, the harder it had been for him break away, to get her off of his mind. Then, when they both almost died at the CDC…how could he die not knowing the full warmth of that little sunshine? How could she die before he told her how he felt?

He didn’t expect her to feel the same way. Not at first. But when, in the midst of nearly dying, she was more concerned with his safety than her own…his mind conjured up possibly scenarios.

When you grow up in a violent home, safety becomes the most important thing to give someone. Care becomes so much more than a social expectation. They’re important; the most vital part of life. The highest gift someone can give. He’d never had people be nice to him or care about him before; his family had too marred a reputation for that in their little town and that same family was too fucked up to give it him themselves.

So, in that moment, when safety was so fleeting anyway and yet she wanted to give the little bit they had to him instead, of course his heart jumped to hopeful conclusions.

And days later, the universe or God or something shifted the world to make those hopes a reality.

But now it was late in the woods and the girl he had tried so hard not to care for was missing and he was learning that, if there really was a God in this world, he hated Daryl.

Soft footsteps turned faint turned cold. Daryl could see the last step she took that he could track. He touched the outline with his fingers, softly marring the print.

He smashed his fist into the ground, the impression of his fist completely covering it. He dropped to his knees, hitting the ground repeatedly until his hands ached and his body heaved with unshed tears.

She was gone. Just like Sophia.

Tags: @azanoni

#light in the dark series #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fic

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luminnara · 3 years

Text

Nesting | alpha!kiribaku x omega!reader fluff

Something soft and fluffy w a/b/o dynamics w kiribaku? Or just one of them if you don’t do poly things

Oh ho ho, don’t you worry I LOVE poly things! I especially love kiribaku x reader because like, how can you NOT lol

I made this super sweet and nice because I crave that feel good fluff! This is SFW but there’s a little mention of some adult stuff. Nothing past that though!

Requests are open!

Warnings: none

Gender neutral reader

Having two alphas wasn’t typical, at least not as far as you knew. Yeah, you were sure that there were all kinds of people and arrangements out there, but you had never really heard of alphas being willing to share an omega. Most of the time, they just got too possessive; when alphas went into ruts or omegas into heats, the pheromones being pumped into the air were sometimes strong enough to ruin entire friendships.

Not for you, though.

When the three of you became a thing, there was no drama. There was no fighting between the two boys, no conflict. You hadn’t really set out to date both of them, but, well...one thing led to another, and next thing you knew, you were all living in an apartment together, and you had two big mating marks on your neck.

It all happened so naturally. It was almost as if the three of you were fated to be together, or something. Yeah, you had your disagreements—Katsuki’s temper was infamous, and Eijiro could almost be too nice sometimes—but what relationship didn’t have a few spats here and there? Your fights never lasted long, and all in all, you were happier than you ever thought possible.

“I’m home!” Eijiro’s voice called, followed by the sound of the door closing.

But of course you already knew. You could smell him the second he walked in, and you were already up and running towards him.

“Whoa, hey!” He laughed as you launched yourself at him, catching you easily and grinning that shark grin of his. “Miss me or somethin’?”

“I always do,” you smiled, hooking your arms around his neck.

His hands settled on your butt as he held you, and he nuzzled into your neck. Both alphas always wanted to be covered in your scent, but Kirishima especially loved it, constantly shoving his nose against the glands and sometimes rubbing his entire head over them. He once told you that he liked being able to smell you on him even when you weren’t around, and the thought of him strutting around at the agency, absolutely reeking of you, made you blush whenever it crossed your mind.

“Is Katsuki home yet?” He asked, walking you down the entry hall and into the living room.

“No,” you sighed. “I think he’s working late tonight...”

You tried not to let your disappointment sound in your voice, but it was impossible to hide anything from Eijiro. He knew how stressful it could be, with both him and Katsuki working as some of the top pro heroes in the city. There were plenty of days where they both came home late, too tired to do anything other than drag themselves into bed and curl up around you. It had a tendency to leave you feeling dejected and alone, and lately, you had taken up a new hobby to try to distract yourself.

Well...hobby was a loose word. It was more just...something you had found yourself with the sudden urge to do, and tonight, the fruits of your labor were finally ready to be revealed.

When Kirishima stepped into the living room, he stopped, and you knew he had seen it.

“Hey, is that...?” He asked, voice trailing off as he stared.

You wiggled out of his arms, beaming up at him as soon as you were standing on your own. “A nest? Sure is!”

The look on your boyfriend’s face was priceless. His eyes were wide, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The living room floor was covered in blankets and pillows, all strategically piled up to form the best, coziest nest you could make. As Kirishima took a step closer, he spotted a few of his shirts and hoodies mixed in, a grin finding its way onto his face.

“Babe,” he finally spoke up, his voice soft, “are you really nesting?”

A small blush crept to your cheeks as you nodded, suddenly feeling shy. “Yeah, I guess so...I dunno where it came from really, I just started getting the urge to make it...”

Suddenly, he swept you up into his arms again, a loud, humming purr vibrating in his chest as he gave you a squeeze with those strong arms of his. “It looks amazing, baby.”

You sighed happily, relaxing against him. “Do...do you wanna come try it out with me?”

He almost dropped you again in shock. “H-huh?”

“Yeah!” you freed yourself from his grip once more and grabbed his hand, giving him a tug.

“Y-you trust me enough...?” his face was adorably surprised, eyes wide as he let you pull him towards your nest.

“Well yeah, duh!” you plopped down in the center of all the blankets and clothes, smiling up at him as he stood over you. “Of course I trust you...you and Katsuki are the best alphas anyone could ask for. Why do you think I felt safe enough to even make a nest?”

You could swear you saw some tears welling up in his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away. “Fuck, I love you so much...”

“Then c’mere, silly,” you laughed lightly, patting the space next to you.

He finally obliged, hunkering down and sighing happily as he surrounded himself with your scent. The nest was cozy, but big enough for three, and as you waited for Katsuki to get home, you found yourself chattering to Eijiro about exactly how it was made, what shirts you had snagged from his and Katsuki’s drawers, why you had piled up those pillows over there and those way over there, why every single plush in the apartment was strategically placed on top of everything else, and why he kept finding more and more of his belongings buried amongst the blankets.

“Babe, this is mine,” he said, holding up an old, fraying wallet.

“Yes, and?” you snatched it out of his hand, tucking it back in its spot. “You never use it. And it smells just like you.”

He chuckled, putting an arm around you and pulling you up against his chest while he continued to explore the nest. “Still can’t believe you went and did all this so quickly. You must have been working nonstop all day.”

You puffed up proudly, but before you had the chance to reply, you heard the door slam open and the sound of heavy boots stomping in. A warm, smoky-cinnamon smell wafted in, and you trilled happily. Katsuki was finally back home, and as you stood up on your knees, you saw him kicking his shoes off and hanging his coat up by the door.

“Oy, I’m home,” he called tiredly, too busy putting on his house slippers to glance over at you yet. “Shitty hair, where are you? You make it back alive today?”

“Still in one piece, Katsuki,” Kirishima laughed, leaning back on his hand as you shot out of your nest to greet your other alpha.

“That’s something, I guess.” Bakugou grunted, turning towards the kitchen. He was moving slowly, like all of his muscles ached and he just wanted to go to bed.

You weren’t about to let him, though. Not yet.

“Katsukiiiiiii,” you called, scrambling up onto the couch to get a better look at him.

“Hey there, kitten.” he tossed his bag down in its usual place at the table, finally looking up at you.

You saw his usually harsh gaze soften as his red eyes met yours, something close to the beginning of a smile tugging at the edges of his lips. Katsuki was a rough guy, always grumpy even while he was out there being one of the best heroes in the city, but at home, he was quieter. Home was a safe place for him, and even though he was still a handful, he was your handful, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world...although right now, you were starting to get irritated by the fact that he had yet to see the nest you worked so hard on.

“What’re you two losers doin’ down there?” he asked, walking towards you lazily. “Fuckin’ on the living room floor, without me?”

“Katsuki, come on.” you rolled your eyes.

“What? It’s a valid question.” he said as he finally reached you, placing his hands over yours where they rested on the back of the couch. He closed his eyes, tilting his head up for you in an open invitation. “Miss me today?”

You nuzzled up against his chin, feeling him relax around you as you pumped out a happy, pheromone-filled scent for him. “Why don’t you take a look at what I spent all day doing, and then you tell me?”

He sighed, grumbling something under his breath as he cracked his eyes open. Then, he fell absolutely still, and when you pulled back and looked up at him, you saw that he was staring, eyes wide in disbelief. He had frozen completely, as if he had absolutely no idea how to process what he was seeing.

“Like it?” you asked, following his gaze back to your nest.

Kirishima was still sitting in the center of it, resting one arm on his knee while he supported his weight on the other. There was a gentle, lazy smile on his face, and as he saw that Bakugou wasn’t moving, he tossed his head. “Katsuki, come see what our little omega worked so hard on.”

“Yeah, Katsuki.” you hopped off the couch, walking around the end of it to take his hand and drag him towards your nest. “Come join us.”

He let you pull him down, and for a moment, all he could do was take a deep breath and inhale the scents of his two mates. Ever so slowly, his face relaxed, and as the three of you snuggled in, he pulled you close and pressed a kiss against your forehead.

“What do you think?” you asked, getting cozy between your two boys.

“It’s fucking perfect, baby.” he said. “You’re fucking perfect.”

“Guess we’re not too bad at this whole alpha thing after all, huh?” Kirishima asked, leaning forward to greet Bakugou with a light kiss.

“Never said we were.” Katsuki huffed, bristling for a moment before he calmed down. “Still...there are some alphas who never get to see their omega’s nest, let alone be invited in. I guess...you must feel pretty safe with us.”

“I do!” you chirped, grabbing a blanket and pulling it over yourself. “I’m happy. Well...I made this nest because I was getting so lonely during the day, and I wanted to be able to smell you guys while you were gone...”

The boys frowned at each other.

“...but just making it made me feel better.”

You heard Katsuki sigh in relief as Eijiro gently headbutted you.

“We have been working a lot lately...” he said quietly.

“So we’ll change that,” Katsuki said roughly. “Our omega comes before anything. If you aren’t happy, what’s the point?”

You couldn’t help the wide smile on your face as you tugged them both down for a kiss, one by one. You spent the rest of the evening cuddled up in your nest, falling asleep on top of your boys, happy to finally, finally be getting the quality time you had been missing so much lately.

#bakugou x reader #kiribaku #Alpha!Kirishima #alpha!bakugou #alpha!kirishima x reader #alpha!bakugou x omega!reader #kiribaku x reader #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

Note

I don’t know if this’ll make the cut, but brothers with an MC wearing their (the brothers) clothes, and I’m talking full ensemble not just a random jacket or accessory (you can delete if you’re not comfortable of course)

So when left with the question of whether this was a full on clothing theft or a cosplay of some kind, I'm going with theft because that's just funnier to me. Just a little MC marching around in Beel's tent of an outfit… Hilarious. 🤭

MC Steals the Brothers’ Outfits

Lucifer

It started out like any other morning, Lucifer woke up early in bed - as he always does - but when he rolled onto his side to stir the MC, he found their side of the bed empty…

Normally, he’d have thrown up the alarm in an instant, but his mind was still groggy as he tried to recall what happened the night before… He could have sworn the MC slept over… unless…

MC: “Good morning, love.”

Their voice was enough to get him sitting up again and he uh… well he was not prepared for what he saw. The MC was sitting with their legs crossed at his desk, attempting to imitate his “I’m-in-Complete-Control-Here” energy as much as they possibly could, but with an added detail…

They were wearing his clothes. His favorite suit to be specific which was tailored to his much bigger frame, resulting in a frankly ridiculously ill-fitting look on their smaller human body...

MC: *picks up a poisoned apple off the desk, continuing their very best Lucifer-impression* “You should get up, love. We have an early meeting today and we can’t keep Lord Diavolo waiting.”

The MC appeared to polish the apple with his sleeve for a moment before taking a bite, looking pleased with themselves before their eyes widened in complete horror. It only took a split second for them to spit the unchewed hunk of apple into a nearby waste basket and toss the apple away in panic.

MC: “Ah FUCK!! I forgot I can’t eat these!!! SHIT!!”

Their panic only grew as Lucifer could no longer hold in his laughter, the booming volume of which is enough to wake up all his brothers throughout the House.

MC: “Lucifer, don’t just sit there laughing!! Bring me some water or something!!! LUCIFER!!!”

Mammon

Look, Mammon always gets up late so not being able to find, like, any of his normal clothes was a serious problem! He’d already dug through half his closest and still couldn’t find anything!!

He had a photoshoot that he had to get to in less than hour and he still needed to take a shower, get dressed, get his stuff together, then bolt halfway across town before-

MC: *literally kicks open his door Kuzco-style* “Yo, yo, yo!! What’s up, Mammon??”

First off, the sudden loud bang of his door hitting the wall nearly scared him out of his skin, but before he could even yell at the MC for their weird entrance his brain had to process what they were wearing….

Good news! He found his missing clothes, the MC had thrown them on while he was sleeping - sunglasses and all - and now stood before him with a toothy grin on their face.

MC: “What's the problem, Mams? Lucifer got your tongu-EEEK!”

Apparently, they weren't expecting Mammon to literally lunge at them and capture them in a tight hug, practically lifting them off their feet with a laugh.

Mammon: “What'cha think your doin', MC?? I'm gonna need those back ya know?”

MC: *laughs loud and bright, throwing their arms around his neck* “I know, I know... But I wanted to surprise you!” *stops laughing suddenly and blinks* “Huh…”

Mammon watched the MC experimentally lift his glasses off their nose then put them back down, repeating the action several times before snickering.

Mammon: *frowns* “What's so funny?”

MC: “Nothing really but… Mammon, do you wear these just to make everything look like gold?”

Mammon actually had to pause before responding, pulling the MC closer with a devilish grin.

Mammon: “Nah… I ‘cause got all the gold I need right here~”

MC: *chuckles and nuzzles his cheek* “Nice save...”

Mammon: *his cheeks flush and he frowns* “I dunno what your talkin’ about... But could ya go put on a t-shirt or somethin’? They’re paying me big for this shoot and I really gotta go!”

Leviathan

Another convention, another cosplay far too complex to ever hope to peel out of… Though Levi would never regret wearing his five piece Lord of Shadow cosplay, it’s a heavy thing and certainly not something he can change out of in a bathroom stall…

When he finally got back to the House, he wasn’t looking to do anything but drag his tired body back to his room and change into some more manageable clothes… but… well…

When Levi opened his door, he saw the MC sitting alone at his computer desk playing a game by themselves. That was all well and good but… WHY IN DIAVOLO’S BLACK HELL ARE THEY WEARING HIS CLOTHES???

When they heard the door, the MC whipped their head back and they both stared at each other in an awkward silence… His clothes didn’t even fit them right!-or maybe they did?? His mind was panicking because they had the collar of his shirt covering their mouth and it looked so moe it was actually ridiculous!

Levi: ……….

MC: ………….

MC: …. “I can explain.”

Levi: ……. “Y-yea?”

MC: “I was having trouble on this one level and you wouldn’t pick up the phone… so I thought ‘What would Levi do?’... and it escalated…”

Levi: “You think??”

Levi felt like he could die right there, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was from embarrassment or happiness… On the one hand, the MC was literally trying to be him in order to get better at video games - which was flatteringly adorable… And on the other, the MC is pretty much cosplaying as him, right in front of him… and looked so damn cute doing it too…

MC: “Is this weird…? This is weird. I’m sorry, I’ll go change-”

Levi: NO-agh! *he throws a hand over his own mouth, surprised by how loud he just shouted* … “U-uh… no it’s fine…”

MC: “Okay...?”

MC: “But could you put your phone down? I think you’ve been taking pictures for the past two minutes…”

Levi looked down at his hand and sure enough he unconsciously pulled out his phone in camera mode and has been spamming the “Capture” button long enough to have his thumb cramping...

Levi: “Oh.” *stops for a moment, then seems to second guess himself*

Levi: “Uh… just one more?”

Satan

When you share a house with Mammon, you grow accustomed to not being able to find things from time to time, but an entire outfit??

When he woke up one morning to find that he couldn't find any of his normal clothes, he blamed Mammon right off the bat…

I guess in hindsight, what would Mammon want with his jacket? But anger doesn't always jump to the most rational conclusion, you know?

After searching for "long enough," Satan stormed out of his bedroom on a warpath. He didn't stop his march until he was banging on Mammon’s door with a closed fist!

Satan: “Mammon!! What did you do with my clothes you useless, money-grubbing asshole!?”

When he didn’t get a reply, likely because Mammon was hiding in his closet or something, he was about to kick the door in when he felt a tap on his shoulder...

When he turned his head, much to his surprise, he found his missing clothes!... They were on the MC - right down to the single sleeve - and the MC met his eyes with a mischievous grin…

They had a book in their hands he recalled seeing once at the library: "101 Ways to Prank Your Partner," open like they'd been reading down the hallway.

MC: … Page 47.

They winked at him before bolting back down the hallway in a fit of giggles and oooh, it was on now.

Satan spent the morning chasing the MC through the House, both laughing and dashing around in reckless abandon. He really needed his clothes back and he wouldn’t mind an extra hour or two with the MC when he got them… 😏

Asmodeus

Asmo isn’t exactly a morning person… Though he forces himself awake so he can perform his wake-up routine, by the time he comes to the table it’s a hit-or-miss on how irritable he’s going to be...

Of course, his favorite outfit suddenly disappearing from his massive closet did not help his mood in the slightest!

Who would take his clothes?? Well, that’s not even a question - surely plenty of his devoted, adoring stans would kill to even have his scarf, so maybe the better question was, “How??” Lucifer keeps all the doors and windows magically sealed at night! (He would know, having been locked out on numerous occasions)

Asmo was tearing through his closet, wracking his brain for any place he might have left his beloved outfit, before he heard someone clear their throat by his bedroom door.

What greeted him was a lovely look at the MC wearing the missing clothing in question, even with all the grace and style he would himself!

Asmo: *jaw-drops* “MC???”

MC: *smirks at his delight and winks at him* “Looking for something?”

They strutted into the room with the confidence of a mock fashion model and took a silly vogue pose in front of the closet, barely holding in a fit of laughter from their actions.

MC: “… Or just at me?”

Asmo, of course, snatched them right up in his arms with a delighted squeal.

Asmo: “Oh. My. Diavolo!! MC, you look just gorgeous!!!- Because you look like me, of course.” 🤭

MC: *laughs and cups his cheeks to pull him closer* “Who wouldn't want to be you, Asmo?”

Asmo: “So true… But you’re already perfect, my love~” 😘

And he went on to prove that to them all morning long...

Beelzebub

Beel didn't even get the chance to notice his clothes were missing. He had a tournament the night before and was sleeping even harder than Belphie that morning...

What woke him up was the smell of food: scrambled shadowhawk eggs, hellboar bacon, pancakes with nightshade syrup….

Beel's stomach had him sitting up long before his eyes ever opened, drawn in by his nose alone.

MC: “Beeeeel. Wake up!”

Beel's eyes dragged open at their request and what he found had his mouth watering... The MC had brought him a dining cart with a complete breakfast spread, brimming with portions only Beel could ever finish, but for once he wasn’t looking at the food.

The MC, for whatever reason, had decided to put on his clothes… And keep in mind that Beel's built like an ox compared to almost anybody. They were absolutely swimming under all that fabric (thank the Devil for his suspenders…)

MC: “Congratulations!!!”

They throw their arms up excitedly, making the unzipped jacket balloon out like a parachute behind them… It's a remarkably cute image.

Beel: *blinks* “Oh.” *he gets a little pink, still very confused* “What did I do exactly…?”

MC: “You won the championship last night, remember? Or did you forget already??”

The MC takes a step to the side and begins pointing at the plates on the cart.

MC: “I thought we'd celebrate with some breakfast! I brought you eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, cereal-”

As they continued their list, Beel's hand naturally reached out towards the cart eagerly, before something finally clicked in his head. WHY were they wearing his clothes??

Beel: “Wait. MC, why are you wearing-...?”

MC *holds their hand up* “Hold on!”

MC: “-oatmeal, muffins, banana bread, annnd…” *they get onto the bed and plop down onto his lap with a grin*

MC: “Me! Congratulations, Beel!!”

They lean up to peck his cheek while his arms automatically wind around their waist. The combination of their scents already bringing out a different sort of hunger in him…

Let’s say if this is his reward, he'll never lose a game again. 😏

Belphegor

Belphie was in the middle of his afterschool nap in the library. The day was exhausting, so he didn’t even bother changing uniforms… The couches there were comfortable and the space was quiet, really nothing should have woken him up...

But somehow, for whatever reason, something did. A tug… Something was chasing away his dreams by tugging on the cow pillow in his arms.

MC: “Beeelllppphie….”

The tugging did not cease and he half growled in response, still keeping his eyes firmly closed.

Belphie: “What now...?”

MC: “I need this…” *they tug on the corner of the pillow a little harder* “Can you let go please…?”

What kind of question is that?? No one takes away his favorite pillow!

Belphie: *hugs the pillow tighter* “Go away, I'm trying to nap…”

MC: “Noooo please…! I need it for something right now…!!”

They started really pulling on his pillow now and he only held on tighter in annoyance. Since they wouldn’t leave him alone, he finally opened his eyes.

Belphie: “MC! Why are… you..?”

His voice trailed off as he finally saw the MC standing there in his usual outfit. His cardigan was so long over their arms that they had to grasp his pillow through its sleeves...

While his drowsy mind tried to catch up, the MC snatched the pillow from his grasp with one swift yank.

MC: *grins* “Mine now!”

They turned to bolt out of the library, but Belphie snatched them by the waist and dragged them back to the couch with him.

Belphie: “Fine, but then I get a new pillow.” 😏

The MC yelped as he flopped on top of them, pulling them close like a body pillow and resting his head into the crook of their neck to enjoy the soothing smell of their scent mixed with his.

MC: “W-wait Belphie…!” *tries to wiggle out from under his surprisingly heavy deadweight* “I was just playing around…! Please don't fall asleep on me!!”

Belphie: *yawns and settles in, already drifting off* “Too late… G'night, MC…”

MC: “Belphie!!!” 😫

They could complain all they liked, he wasn’t going to let them go for a few hours. Cute or not, MC, nobody takes his pillow!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me requests

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