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serawritesthings · 4 months

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hi! Sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. I don't know if you're accepting requests, if you not, just ignore. But I'm wondering how you would write something related to a jealous Arthur Morgan, high honor of course (with smut or without smut sincerely you know what looks best). the way you write is addictive and passionate, i believe anything you write from this would be great.

OUR DEAR, GREEN LITTLE FRIEND

Pairing | Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader Summary | Oh, jealousy. When the thought of you straying too close to the comfort of Charles, the green monster claws its way into Arthur's head. Tags | sexual content 18+ minors dni, tiny bit of angst, description of violence and wounds, fluffy at times, smut Word Count | 10k A/N | Hi everyone! I just HAD to write this request, hope you like it! Also, thank you dearly anon♡

While many found the biting cold of the climate north of West Grizzlies to be bitter–sharp air seeping into your very bones–you saw it oddly liberating despite the current predicament. The circumstance was dire, indeed, and you pondered many times if this would finally be the end for all of you, thinking of the incredible luck you had managed to have so far. Fate, or an astonishingly fascinating knowledge on how to escape the grappling arms of the law with a suspicious amount of people trashing through the roads in utter, sheer panic.

Glancing around you as you huddled closer to the fire, hands rubbing furiously against the wool of your gloves to gain even the slightest warmth to your biting fingers, you were met with the flushed cheeks of your comrades. The skin that now glistened from the melting snowflakes was caressed by the warm, orange glow from the flames lighting up the small hut you had taken residence in.

The road leading to here had been long, and the time spent in the wagon that did nothing to shield you from the penetrating wind that howled into the night, your thoughts had been entirely focused on the man who now lay dead a few meters away, tucked in some fabric to shield the paling flesh of a corpse. While the thought might not make you uncomfortable, it did its thing on the others who looked weary at the covered man.

You had done your best to tend to him amidst the severe trembling of your fingers and numbness spreading through you the longer you rode in the worrying storm, finding his blood still staining the cotton of your gloves–a reminder that you had done what you could to help the poor fellow. Despite not knowing him well enough to shed a tear, death was still a death, and a slight melancholy set its claw in all of you as you tried to regain some warmth.

“Stupid man.” Glancing beside you, you took notice of the dark-haired woman muttering angrily as she held a sleeping Jack close to her body.

“What’s wrong?” You inquired quietly, curious of her obvious disdain.

“John Marston is what’s wrong.” Blazing heatedly into the fire, you could almost see the depths of hell through her furious eyes. “He didn’t come back with the rest.” Shifting her eyes to yours for a quick moment that, although short, showed the worry hidden beneath her anger.

Nodding slowly as you leaned against her slightly in comfort, you realized you hadn’t taken notice of the man’s absence until now. Returning with empty hands and another mouth to feed had instead been the case, no Marston as far as the eyes could see as he probably whirred around in the blizzard somewhere.

“Do you think he…” As you spoke, you trailed off, growing unsure of your words while realizing your comments might be prodded into a sensitive subject.

“No.” Firmly, she sniveled harshly, shaking her head in protest. “No, he wouldn’t leave again.” Although her words were sure, you still felt a lingering doubt cloud your mind, remembering being told of his earlier departure from the gang that caused more scars in their relationships than good–not that it wasn’t faulty from the very start.

As you were about to let your prying win against your common sense, you were interrupted by the door being audibly slammed open, the noisy winds from outside growing louder as snowflakes whirled inside. Walking inside was the prominent figure of Charles, nodding respectfully to its residents as the door shut behind him, once more letting the warmth settle.

“Folks.” He mumbled quietly, treading through everyone huddling by the fire as he glanced curiously at the new woman before settling beside you. You glanced up at him, taking in his snow-covered self before lingering on his hand that rested motionless on his legs, bandages visible under his gloves.

“It’s not too bad; the cold seems to numb the pain.” A slight smile graced your lips at his observance, finding it unique to the man to be so tentative to everyone around him. Letting out a small laugh, you reach to remove your gloves before taking his hand in yours so you could lay it in your lap, unwrapping the bandages to examine the burns covering his skin.

You had given it a quick look-over before you had to tend to Davey, doing the best you could to ease his pain you were sure would be unavoidable. Although the sight was quite gruesome, it didn’t look as bad as you had expected.

“You’re stronger than me, that’s for sure. I would be a crying mess if I burned my hand like that.” Your voice was gentle as you started to rewrap the fabric around his hand, finding it increasingly irritating you didn’t have the tools you usually did that would indeed do a fine job at lessening his pain.

You had managed to gain a slight smile from the otherwise aloof man, probably finding your words humorous. “Let’s hope it’ll never come to that.”

Sharing a look, you heard the door open once again, the irritated voice of Uncle damning whoever was letting in the cold for the second time. Both you and Charles laughed slightly, and as you looked up, you were faced with a pair of squinting, blue eyes, the icy cold from the outside seemingly enhancing their sharpness although making a welcomed warmth spread through you as they gazed over you in a quick motion–departing to look at the hand that rested in your lap.

“A sad loss, folks,” Hosea stated as he stepped onto the wooden planks, speaking out loudly in the otherwise calm hut, groaning as he helped Arthur lift Davey’s lifeless body, limp like a ragdoll.

Glancing subtly, you observed him as Arthur’s bulky form lifted easily, unlike Hosea, admiring how he made it seem so effortless. The others called him the camps workhorse, and you didn’t fail to see why, keeping your eyes firm on the man as he carried him towards the door.

He shrouded you in uncertainty; he did, and you weren’t sure how to behave in his bold presence. You often felt like a goody two shoes, and even though you weren’t the perfect picture of a law-abiding citizen, you could honestly say you were a wimp compared to Arthur.

You should be embarrassed, you really should, but there was something in his eyes– something that made your heart race. Utterly shameless, yet desperate to lock gazes again despite contradicting yourself and avoiding them every chance you could. Before you could get caught this time, you directed your eyes, focusing on tightening the bandages so they wouldn’t come loose.

“Try to be careful, will you, Charles?” You spoke quietly while patting his hand, motioning that he was all set to go, but his hand stayed, giving you a grateful look.

“Thank you.” His soothing voice was hushed as the loud bang of the door slammed shut not long after, ridding you of the tumult after their departure.

–

Oh, it burned. It burned so deep in his loins that it felt like he would erupt into flames any second. Despite the cold surrounding him, he was sure it could be possible the more he was left with his thoughts. The hushed whispers, the soft touches, and the ever-so-gentle look in your eyes made him want to empty the little food in his stomach.

“Sneaky little rat,” Arthur grumbled to himself as he shoveled his way through the deep layers of snow. Here he was, out in the cold, tortured by the howling winds of the snowstorm, while Charles remained inside the warmth of the hut, seated next to you, all because of a slight burn.

He knew what he was up to–what any man would do if it meant getting your attention–and he wasn’t humored. Taking advantage of your good nature was downright uncalled for, bordering on immoral, which Arthur would probably realize wasn’t Charles’s character if his mind didn’t seek to find faults with the man the more his blood boiled.

He scoffed to himself, stabbing the ground maliciously, imagining your warm hands around his instead, the nimble fingers of yours tending to him as you moved in closer, your sweet smell reaching his nose as you gazed up at him, face blushed from the cold with lips begging him to warm them up with his. The thought did nothing more than cover his whole body in shivers, only to be reminded that it wasn’t him that received that attention from you.

“What are you huffing about over there, Arthur?!” Hosea’s strained voice attempted to shout over the loud winds, standing up to rest momentarily.

“Why don’t we just bury him when the storm has settled?!” Annoyance was apparent in his voice, the green jealous monster still wreaking havoc in his mind.

“I told you, the snow will be too heavy tomorrow, so we need to finish it while we still can!” He groaned, starting to shovel once more. “And I’ll be damned, we are going to give Davey a proper burial. He deserves that much!”

As Hosea blabbered on about justice and other forms of respect Arthur had no intent on listening to, he zoned out, feeling sorry for himself as he imagined you might be keeping close to Charles right this moment, warming yourself to his body in a desperate search of bodily heat. Rubbing the melted snow off his face, Arthur damned the heavens above for making him the unluckiest bastard in the West.

Despite Arthur seeming dead set on you being lovey-dovey with a man you barely knew, Charles had left you after making some small talk, mentioning that he would try and get some well-deserved rest after the tumultuous past few days. Many others did as well, attempting to ease their minds from the constant threat against their back amidst the terrible cold.

Although, as days passed and John being back rid you of Abigail’s constant muttering, the cold only seemed to take its toll on you, unlike the others who quickly got used to the environment. Furthermore, the days only seem to get longer up in the mountains, and you wondered obsessively when you would get the chance to leave–damning everyone who thought seeking out Colm O’Driscoll in your compromised state a good idea instead of moving forwards.

Despite your dismay, you put yourself to use like the others, preparing to help Pearson in the grim act of cutting through the poor deer that had been brought back. While the sight gladdened you, knowing you would finally get a meal in your stomach, the brooding aura of a chestnut-haired, blue-coated man seemed to rain over you endlessly.

What could you have done to gain his stinging glare? It was almost cutting through you entirely from the burning that resided deep in his eyes, watching you ferociously, making your hair stand on edge. When he had returned with Charles, it had been nothing short of unpleasant ever since, although thankfully–despite his glare–his harsh words were directed towards Pearson instead of you, which you were glad for.

“How’s the cold treating you?” Glancing away from the two men bickering, you laughed slightly at Charles’s innuendo, dressed worse for wear as you pulled the thick, woolen scarf tighter around your neck, hugging yourself to keep warm.

“Could be worse, I guess,” you said, clouds like smoke surrounding you as you talked.

“I suppose. Still, I don’t want you freezing your fingers off.”

“Mhh,” you nodded thoughtfully, speaking up after silence. “Who would look after your hand if that happened?”

He chuckled heartily at your unsuspected joke, and you glanced up at him bashfully, a light smile covering your face at his apparent amusement. While your embarrassment of being so easily swayed by the cold, it felt nice having someone take notice of your obvious discomfort, even though you would say you were pretty good at keeping it to yourself. You couldn’t be surprised, though, well aware you and Charles were both tentative to your surroundings, always knowing but rarely telling.

“Here.” Taking off the large gloves covering his hand, no doubt doing an excellent job keeping him warm, he grabbed your trembling hands in his, rubbing them between his pleasant temperature hand and bandage-covered skin before gliding the fabric over yours.

“No, Charl-” you protested, trying to stop him from continuing.

“They’ll do you more good than me, I promise. They’re just in the way.” Stubbornly, he planted your hands back into your lap, petting them like you had done to him some nights ago before raising with a huff.

“Thanks for the help, Arthur.” Charles nodded at the now grumpy man observing him as he rested against the wood of the wooden wall with arms crossed, seemingly ignoring Mr. Pearson’s lecture about the navy he felt so strongly about, only providing a quick tilt of his hat before heated eyes were set on you.

Your gaze faltered, the blush on your face from the cold only intensifying the spread of warmth you felt from gaining his profound stare–something you rarely took notice of. It wasn’t that he didn’t look at you; he probably looked too much at times, but he was never so ardent with it, scrutinizing you under their heavy weight–making you feel ten times smaller under his towering height.

“Well, why don’t you skin the deer, Arthur? I’ll help you cut them up in a while, miss.” Mr. Pearson’s words were hasty, and you didn’t miss the bottle glistening under the sunlight as he tried hiding it behind his coat, scurrying away. He would, in fact, not be back; you were sure of that much.

It wasn’t often you found yourself alone with Arthur, and you never strayed too close, finding his presence somewhat daunting. Not that you’ve had many chances to speak amidst all the chaos surrounding you, and being relatively new to the gang meant the trust lacked significantly from both sides. But, the intrigue was always present in every glance and movement.

You felt his gaze fixed on you a moment longer as you stared heedlessly at your hands, rubbing them together anxiously, having no clue what to do with yourself. While you weren’t one to speak the ears of others, you never had any problem socializing with those around you–but Arthur, he was something else entirely. Finally, though, he moved, approaching the hanging carcass.

“How are ya?” His sudden words surprised you, hanging awkwardly in the air.

“Oh, um. Good?” You cringed at yourself, finding the words stuck in your throat as his voice rumbling was loud and confident.

“Cold?”

“A bit,” you said softly, staring at his back as he heaved the skin away from the animal, movements rigid and harsh. “Charles gave me his gloves, so it’s a little less chilly now.” You stumbled over your words, admiring his strength unabashedly as he hauled the skinned deer over his shoulder, slamming it down the table with a loud bang. He gave you no answer, instead bringing out the knife in his belt to do the job you were assigned to.

“Oh, let me!” Standing abruptly from your seat, you stepped towards him hurriedly in shame, feeling like you were just lazying around while Arthur was doing all the hard work.

Grabbing his thick coat to let you take his position, you found him staying right where he was, looking down at you when your hand rested on his bicep. It was unusual for him to be so close, and a blush warmed your cheeks as his towering frame became more apparent when standing a short distance from one another.

“S’alright.” He spoke lowly. “I’ve got it.”

Your breath got caught in your throat as he gazed wholly at you, letting you know he had no problem with helping you. It warmed you, finding his action kind–just like the small acts of kindness he reserved for the other girls. You would sometimes glare after them, intensely jealous that Arthur seemed to have a soft spot for them, yet acting like you didn’t exist.

“Anything else I can do to help since you just did my job for me?” A shy smile found you, peering up at him as he sniveled, glancing at you while you sat on the bench again.

“Well, you’ve already done your charity work for the day, so you’re fine.”

“Charity work?” You wondered, staring at him curiously as he cut through the meat. “What do you mean?”

He only sighed heavily, like you should be able to understand his cryptic words.

“He won’t die from a small burn; it ain’t enough reason to coddle the man like a child,” he grumbled.

It took you a while to get the gears turning, but when you did, you felt yourself grow shy from his statement. “Charles? His hand isn’t looking too good…”

“Yeah? Well, you shouldn’t be so forward. You’ll give the poor man false hope.” He scoffed, stabbing the poor carcass harshly.

Staring at his back in disbelief at the sudden hatred, you had trouble understanding where it came from and why he suddenly grew so invested in whom you diverted your attention. You and Arthur rarely spoke, only changing quick words occasionally ever since you found yourself staying with the gang, and for that reason, you had failed to understand the reason for his hatred.

It seems all you ever did was look after everyone else, paying attention to their various troubles and tribulations regarding bodily harm. It wasn’t strange to you, and by no means did you give anyone false hope, merely trying to find your place with these people, an attempt to prove your usefulness.

“False hope?” You questioned, baffled. “I’m trying to help; I fail to understand how that is a problem.”

“It ain’t a problem!” He grumbled, voice roaring hotly in his chest as he resheathed his knife and began to make his way out, repositioning his hat without glancing at you. You followed him, stopping short by the table as you didn’t want to stray too close to the fuming man.

“Well, it is since you are so angry about it?!” If this was how he carried out every conversation, you were glad the exchange of words wasn’t typical between you, more so the simple fact that your company had never seemed to bring him any enjoyment. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Wha-” He stops short, suddenly turning around and stalking towards you in significant strides. Gasping at suddenly having him so close, you backed away; his sharp eyes penetrated you as the warm blue of his orbs turned ice cold, glaring daggers into your own.

“What’s wrong with me?” He spoke dangerously low as his brows raised, grabbing your upper arms as he hoisted you up the table without an ounce of struggle. “I’m not the one taking every small, insignificant chance to take advantage of your good nature.”

“Charles’s not like that. He’s very kind.” You spoke in his defense, leaning back from his prolonged stare that seemed to cut through you deeper the more he stared. You had always pitied the people who got on Arthur’s lousy side, finding his presence at those times unnerving.

Now, it seemed you were at the receiving end of it, and while it chilled you to the bones, you weren’t sure if your beating heart were because of fear or the thought of him being the closest to you he’d ever have.

You had never quite got to admire his eyes, always hidden under his furrowed brows and squinting eyes. Now that it wasn’t because of the blazing sun down west, it was from the blaring whiteness of the snow surrounding you as you found his eyes glaring at the current climate more often than not–displeased.

His eyes being dead set on you didn’t help as you could hear his breathing grow heavier, the warmth of his breath hitting your cold cheeks as his broad frame blocked the chilly winds from reaching you.

“Kind, huh?” Although momentarily distracted, you recovered as you heard him speak in a low voice, still finding his assumptions wildly out of reach while insulting you and Charles. Times were hard, and if you couldn’t look after one another, it would surely lead to your doom–Arthur, if anyone, should know that.

“Yes, kind.”

Rubbing his eyes with one hand, he backed away from you, shrugging his shoulders while walking away–like your conversation hadn’t happened in the first place.

“Sure.”

–

It wasn’t like Arthur didn’t know how to restrain himself, for he applauded himself for avoiding his apparent anger when Charles had, yet again, stolen away your attention–not that Arthur had any plans on striking up a conversation with you anyway.

It became clear to him that when you two were left alone, you almost turned into a living statue, barely responding to him. It was unlike you, for the time he had spent observing you, you had no problem talking to anyone else–and although it was usually calm, it never deterred you from gaining the likes of the others and liking them in return.

Why did you cringe away from him and not Charles, he pondered, glaring at the picture that plagued his mind. The reason he knew, deep down, but his stubbornness didn’t let him justify your actions. In all honesty, Charles was a more reliable man than himself, intentions often apparent with a slight sense of, well, goodness perhaps—something Arthur didn’t possess in the slightest.

Goodness, in all honesty, wasn’t something he was too familiar with, and he didn’t doubt one second that you found his character to be callous, seeing as the dirty work no one wanted to do fell upon him; work everyone else found to be too cruel to do themselves. He could almost feel your disapproving gaze when he picked up his slack from Mr. Strauss’s poor victims that he always tried to prolong, and while it wasn’t his most favorable way of lending a hand, sometimes he did it out of spite.

If that’s what you thought about him, then he couldn’t do much to sway your opinion, finding it much easier to continue with his ways than realize that your sudden carefulness off him wounded him more profoundly than he let on.

And, he was indeed a harsh man in your eyes, and although his company wasn’t entirely unwished for, he was still grim–ignoring your presence like you weren’t there most of the time. It made you wildly unsure of him, but the allure he had kept bringing you back, always wondering when you would see a glimpse of him again. You chastised yourself for it, more so now that you got a taste of his famously sullen mood that pestered everyone around him, but your eyes were still drawn to him when he was nearby.

Maybe it wasn’t what everyone else would describe him as, but you thought of him as mysterious. Gods, you have stayed with this group for quite some time now. Not once had he spoken to you more than the standard greeting, and you didn’t know much about him besides the sharp-shooting, brutal force of a man who had no problem letting his thoughts be voiced, even though the listeners might be less inclined to its harsh deliverance.

He had been cruel, sure, but you couldn’t help but remember how close you had been before when he spewed words that clung so viciously from his tongue. Faintly, you remembered the deep scent of gunpowder and smoke, something you were certain probably penetrated his skin by now, but also the slightly musky scent hidden underneath. Your head raced in curiosity, wondering how his hands would grab you if it wasn’t in anger. Was he even capable of that, you pondered.

It’s ridiculous you knew those thoughts were born from misconceptions and assumptions. You had heard how he behaved amongst the camp women, forever gentle and careful, and you had sharpened your ear when you’d been told timidly about his earlier flings. He could be more heartfelt than your head let you acknowledge, and the thought made your head spin even more with your endless imagination.

Despite the inner turmoil that filled you from your earlier argument, you had avoided him for some days now, and it seemed to grow easier the colder you got, huddling close to the fire with every chance. It was the only thing keeping your thoughts occupied, wondering when you would get to leave this desolated mining town that grew more covered in snow the longer you chose to stay.

“Do you need help, Hosea?” Just after you spoke, heavy blankets were handed to you, the fabric made from a thick wool that looked heavenly. “Yes, thank you. I take one step outside; I fear that it will be the end of me.” You only stared warmly at Hosea, who patted you on the back. “Don’t you worry, miss. We found more blankets we thought had been lost in that dreadful storm, so we all will sleep warmer tonight.”

“Oh, of course, I’ll help-” Despite the whistling winds that had picked up as the sun shone its last tendrils, you didn’t oppose the idea, but you were interrupted by a mischievous look handed to you by the older man.

“Make sure Arthur grabs one, too; you know how he gets.” Before you could question his meaning, he slunk away, pulling the warm fabric tighter around his shoulders without a glance at you, chuckling merrily. You chose not to ponder too hard on his strange ways, instead making your way to the door, shivering badly as you stepped outside.

Smiles were all you were greeted with as you handed them off, and it was no surprise as it was a welcome sight to everyone to gain some extra warmth to wrap around themselves. Although feeling content by being of help, you couldn’t help but wonder where Arthur could be, a single blanket now left in your hands.

Grumbling to yourself, you stepped out from the hut Dutch and Molly resided in, glancing at a smaller building some paces away, finding the orange glow of a candle lighting up the smaller barn where the horses were kept. A small smile found you, finding it very fitting for him to be where there were fewer people.

Although slightly fearing what could come to be an awkward encounter, you found yourself being too forgiving many times, and you damned yourself for it. What he said hurt you deeply, making you ponder if you had given Charles other signals than intended. It could be a possibility, yet you had never had too many romantic dealings with men to presume that that was the case, but his eyes held something tender the last few times you spoke as you recalled it.

“Arthur…” As you stepped inside after pulsing through the thick snow, you searched for the blue coat you had grown familiar with in this weather. “Are you here?” You asked quietly, wondering if he could hear you.

You cautiously stepped further into the barn, placing your feet steadily on the ground before you so you didn’t slip and embarrass yourself. It was friendly out here, you could admit, the snow muting every sound and almost making every slight sound caress your ears.

As you stepped further inside, it turned out he was here, and he took no notice of you as you rounded the corner to gaze at his seated form, seemingly writing something in his journal. It was an unusual sight. Sometimes, you observed him as he wrote in his journal back at camp, yet you didn’t make a habit of it, too shy to question him at the time.

How he didn’t freeze to death in this climate was beyond you, his fingers bare as he scribbled, fingertips red from the cold and dirty from the chalk. You made a motion to speak up once again but found yourself tongue-tied as you took him in, and as you did, the thought struck you that he wasn’t writing but drawing.

How unlike him, you thought, watching his brows furrowed from time to time, fingers moving expertly while the soft glow of the candle beside him almost softened his features. Your presumptions might be harsh, but you had never found him to be a man well-versed in the creative aspect of life, and while the brutal ways of his life spoke for him, you found it to make him slightly more approachable.

“I didn’t know you draw.” You stated fondly, his eyes fitting into yours the moment the first word left your mouth, growing visibly stressed as the journal was planted into his coat pocket. A rough cough left him as he did, eyes faltering when he saw your observant gaze linger on him unabashedly.

“I don’t.” A small laugh left you at his abrupt words, not teasingly but perhaps warmly, choosing not to bug him since he grew uncomfortable before your questioning eyes.

You were given an expectant look that reminded you of your actual business here as you stepped inside the building, closing the barn door behind you to shut out the wind that somehow managed to find its way through the cracks in the walls.

“Here, we found some more blankets. Hosea asked me to bring you one.” You met his eyes briefly as you stretched out your arms for him to take the blanket, eyes faltering to it at his piercing gaze.

“Hosea, huh?” A scoff left him, resuming his arms to cross over his chest, shaking his head slightly. “You keep it.”

“No, I-”

“Nah, you chattering your teeth keeps us up at night. Take it.”

His words should have taken you back since his voice was stinging, but a light laugh left you, knowing he was right. Wrapping yourself in the soft, warm blanket, you surprised Arthur by sitting beside him, heavily clad shoulders touching each other as you did.

“I don’t understand.” You stated, staring at the large shadows that flickered on the wooden wall before you. “How can you not be cold? I feel like if I spend one more day out here, I’ll freeze to death.”

You turned your head towards him, caught off guard when you felt his gaze already set intensely on you. Your eyes faltered to his chest, growing shy as you always did when you had his attention on you. It wasn’t unwanted, but you didn’t know what to do with yourself in moments like that, unused to the fire that always burned so deep in his eyes.

“Used to it, I guess.” His voice rumbled hotly in his chest, fingers flexing against his will as he took the chance to observe you. He had never had the opportunity to see your face this close. Your wet lashes clung together as you blinked, undoubtedly from the heavy snowfall outside, framing your eyes that Arthur always noticed were so very easy to read, yet at many moments also locked away.

“I don’t believe you.” How could anyone possibly get used to this? It was raw, pure torture.

You didn’t get an answer, and as you returned your gaze towards the wall, Arthur’s eyes found your features again. He had indeed been cold before you came, but it was his only chance to find a moment of peace; the thought of spending another night in that god-forsaken hut with his dear friend and his lover giggling the night away grew incredibly distasteful.

Here, he could finally hear his thoughts, the solitude of the snow muting every sound heavenly; the only noise was the familiar scribbling in his journal as he wrote about the past few days. Though his head was calmer than before, he still dreamt of your fingers encasing his like they had done Charles, the small, elegant touches rising his arms slowly, making him shiver wildly as the scene flashed before his eyes.

He knew he shouldn’t think of you like that, and he certainly had no right to be angry at Charles since he felt so unabashedly filthy things about you, but he couldn’t help it. Your every scent, every motion set his blood afire; small deeds of good you always found yourself doing so harshly contrasted his actions he couldn’t help the fact that you intrigued his whole being.

So good, so… soft and warm. As he stared at you, all he wanted was to reach out and pull you closer to him so he could feel your shivering body close to him, knowing many ways to warm you up. Sighing, he removed his hat, running his fingers through his hair as the thoughts took a turn he always hated himself for.

“Hey, I uh…” Arthur trailed off, finding the words he wanted to speak stuck in his throat. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way, like I did back then.” He stared before him, yet he felt your eyes heavy on his.

He did feel bad, and it had been the reason for his brooding temper since then, not coming to terms with his wrongdoings until now. He had probably scared you, he concluded, and could only assume he was right as you had done your utmost to avoid him as of late.

“Don’t be,” you said with a light smile, not expecting his apology, even though he didn’t say sorry directly. “It’s a lot right now, I understand. But I still don’t understand why you’re so angry at Charles.” You were briefly met with a light sigh, eyes flickering to yours before diverting the flickering candle.

“Nah, forget it. Just me being stupid is all.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid. Maybe you’re mean sometimes and grumpy,” you said, giving him a teasing glance. “But not stupid.”

A scoff left him at your words, yet you could see the corners of his mouth chirp up lightly. “You’d be surprised.”

As your snickering died down, you rested your head on the wall behind you, not wanting to leave the quiet comfort you found yourself in nor the conversation that panned on longer than you had anticipated, much to your surprise.

“Why are you out here if you are so cold, girl?” He questioned you, catching a glimpse of your almost blue lips. “Go on inside; you’ll freeze to death if you stay here.” It would be best for you to return because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if his thoughts progressed like they did before in your presence. As he placed the hat on his head again, he glanced down quickly, doing a double take as he found you staring at him.

Was the cold finally getting to your head, or was it simply being in the presence of the man you were so unsure of but wildly intrigued by? You couldn’t tell, but the warmth spreading in your stomach as he glanced down at you spread ferociously through your stomach, almost warming you to your fingertips.

Suddenly, Arthur moved his arm slightly, and the motion made you jump, leaning away from him as you unconsciously drew closer to him. You couldn’t tell, but it almost felt like your body sometimes contradicted your mind, defying your sense of morality.

“Are you afraid of me?” He questioned, gazing at you unexplainably. Both of your breaths were audible in the quiet night, blowing like smoke out your mouths as the world around you blurred. It wasn’t like Arthur couldn’t contain himself around women, but you were something else entirely. Only in his wildest dreams did you stare at him like that, like you were expecting–waiting– for him to do something.

Yet, you looked guarded, like a cornered lam, waiting for the right moment to sprint away. You pulled away, only to lean in further, the cogs in your head turning something so awful in your mind, observing his every move yet not registering your own that reached out to him.

And gods, did he want to do the same; his internal battle proved to be more difficult as your hand gripped his coat tightly, only wanting to warm your blue lips with his own and show you how he could warm you up better than Charles’s damned gloves ever could.

“Sometimes.” You let on, voice shaking from both anticipation and uncertainty.

Leaning down towards you hesitantly, he felt hot all over when he realized you didn’t shy away from him like expected, mouth only parting further as he drew closer. As you did, you felt your breath hitch when a hand was placed on your upper back, Arthur’s weight only making you glide further down the wall until your head was resting in the crook of his elbow.

“Arthur…” He was so close now you could almost feel his heartbeat through the vast amount of clothing, breath hitting your cold, blushing cheeks as he leaned closer, the calling of his name only drawing him in. He was sure you had bewitched him, for not a single thought in his mind was about anything but the woman in front of him, entirely and utterly overtaken by what was solely you.

And through those few moments between frustration and desperation, all senses of logic disappeared as the skin of your lips conjoined, drawn together like magnets that snapped together like they never wanted to be apart again. Eyes grew shut, the only sound now the deep humming in Arthur’s chest as your hands found his cheeks, caressing the chilly skin under your palm with your thumbs.

It was ragged and scarred, a deep contrast to your own that had never tasted the metal of a gun and the blood of a foe, and the thought made a gasp rise in your throat as his weight fell heavier onto yours, pressing you into the hay-filled, snowy ground.

“Tell me to stop.” He grunted against your now wet lips, only taking a second before joining them again. He was covering your entire body as he lay above you, resting his weight on his elbows as your head rested on his arm.

“No…” You mumbled, words almost not audible against his desperate mouth, feeling just as affected by the desire as he did. You felt his face scrunch up almost painfully before he took the hand that rested on your back to glide under your coat, resting it on the side of your waist as he stroked gently, feeling the curves that hid underneath the damned fabric.

It was torture. It was an unexplainable torture that you would freeze to death if he removed the clothes that covered you, and he would surely go insane if he couldn’t feel the skin he imagined would be so very soft under his rough fingers. Just a taste, he thought sinfully to himself, slowly lifting the fabric of your shirt from under your skirt’s waistband, worming a freezing hand inside to feel the warmth that hid underneath.

You gasped at the sudden sensation but were quickly silenced as his tongue massaged your own, and the slight moan that left you only made a groan rumble loudly in his chest. The feeling of his cold hand rose your skin, stroking every bit it came across as if memorizing it to his brain, mapping out every single inch.

It was too much for you, the sheer desperation and want, not knowing what to do with yourself or how to dampen the intense feelings that nailed your firm to the ground. Every bit of you grew into static, and every touch from Arthur sent shockwaves through your body as his fingers caressed you.

“Come here.” Opening your eyes, you found his, although lidded with desire, gentle eyes gazing into yours, pulling his hand reluctantly from your waist to help you sit up. “I won’t let you lay on the ground.”

You only stared at him as he seated you on his lap, chest flush against his as his hands stroked along your arms as if to warm you up, tightening the blanket around your shoulders. You felt your heartbeat pick up at his actions, your stomach fluttering fiercely as he ensured you stayed warm.

You could tell he grew wildly unsure as you remained silent, clearing his throat as if he had been in a daze before speaking.

“If you’ll have me, that is.” You didn’t give him a chance to say more, hands finding sanction in his hair as the motion knocked off his hat, exposing the sandy locks he always kept hidden underneath it.

“Stupid question.” You mumbled softly against his mouth, pressing yourself closer to him as your fingers started fiddling with the buttons on his coat. You could already feel the heat emitting, and your fingers grew hasty as you tried to move faster, the motion of your lips faltering against his eager ones.

You would have been ashamed if it weren’t for Arthur being just as stressed about getting the buttons of your coat loose, hands wounding their way around your waist and pressing you closer to him the moment they became undone. Likewise, you wormed your arms under his shoulder, gasping as you felt the heat buried underneath the fabric, hugging him close as you placed your face into the crook of his neck.

Breathing in your scent, Arthur revealed in the way you nuzzled against him, feeling a warmth spread in his groin when the thick coat didn’t keep the pressure of your middle away from him any longer. It was heaven, he concluded, trailing his hands down to your backside as he caressed the curves, pushing you flush against his.

Oh, how he reveled in it. He was selfish; there was no denying it any longer, but he craved you so profoundly it would eat him up bit by bit if he couldn’t have you. It wasn’t about Charles any longer; it was about the fact that you had never spared him a glance, almost bordering on fearing him, deciding that everyone else company had been much safer than his own.

He knew it and had seen it in your eyes countless times. Arthur wasn’t unfamiliar with the look of utter horror plastered on people’s faces, for he faced it every day, and he wanted nothing more than to show you that you had no reason to feel that way with him, for he would never put a single finger that was unwished for on you.

And he couldn’t possibly hold it against you, for he wasn’t a good man, quite the opposite actually, and every lingering touch made him hate himself even more, wishing you would find it in you to push away from him–let him know that if he ever touched you again, you would kill him.

But, he would find that you didn’t, instead only pressing yourself even harder against him in the cold of the night, breath shaking something so terribly as he moved your lower region against his in a gentle movement. It only fueled his want for you, hands struggling their way up your skirt, caressing your stocking-clad legs as he did, reaching your undergarments with a content sigh.

His touch lighted a path up your legs, the cold nothing but a memory now even though the brisk air found its way underneath your skirt, following his hands that caressed your inner thighs in soft motions.

It was suspenseful, waiting for the skin to touch the skin, for his strong hands to wound around you as he had already wormed himself around your heart. And as he did, the coil in your stomach grew so incredibly tight you felt like it was too much like his touch alone wounded your every fiber, but instead of hurt, it was an undeniable pleasure that hit you tenfold.

The hand that had crawled its way inside your undergarments stroked alongside your tender parts, never touching you where you wanted him the most–the place that longed for his touch. He had to be teasing you; there was no other explanation as he smiled softly at your expression, gasping for air as you gripped the sides of his arms, trying to push against his fingers.

“Ah, sweetheart.” He only cooed at you, gripping your wrists with one hand as his other finally glided over the wetness of your heat, gazing directly into your eyes with his sharp gaze, admiring your pleasure-filled face that begged him to give you more, to provide you with his all. And, as he spread your folds with his fingers, the filthiest whimper of pleasure left you, laying its noise into the quiet night with no worry about anyone hearing, only fools deciding to stray outside in this bleak, frigid night.

Falling into his arms yet again, you let him enter a finger into your warm cavern, gasping desperately for air as the unfamiliar stretch widened you, dragging wonderfully against your clenching walls. It was vile, the way Arthur reveled in how tight you felt against his finger, and as he pondered on how you would feel when he pushed it you. The thought made a striking, white pleasure shoot through him, making him grunt out against your neck.

“That good?” He spoke out, adding another finger into you while placing wet, hot kisses against your blazing neck, wanting nothing more than to hear your heavenly sound of approval.

You attempted to nod, but the motion was interrupted by the increasingly more extensive stretch from both of his fingers; gasping like a madwoman as you moved against his hands, wishing to pull his fingers even deeper into you, dissatisfied when you realized it didn’t do the job.

He could only groan when he realized your intention, slipping his coated finger from your warm heat, bringing them to his mouth quickly while his other hand found the zipper of his jeans, fumbling in a stressed fashion to get rid of the constraint.

A dissatisfied moan left you as he did, wishing for nothing more than to feel the delicious stretch yet again carry alongside your walls. But, as he fumbled with his zipper, you quickly got your senses together. You helped him undo his suspenders, then slipped underneath the fabric to trail your hand alongside the apparent bulge that stretched underneath, finding his groans to fuel your actions.

For a short while, your eyes met amidst the hurry your bodies experienced, and the moment slowed down to a halt as your lips found each other once more, moving against one another like starved men. You couldn’t be closer to him, and he couldn’t possibly be closer to you, and while you earlier had pondered that this was a good idea, you couldn’t imagine anything else at this moment.

And, as your hand wrapped around him momentarily, Arthur could feel his brain’s short circuit, like he had never been able to hold a single thought in his mind his entire life. You had to have bewitched him, for he complied to your every touch, body moving against your every move like your hand was glued to his body.

“God,” he mumbled against your lips that massaged his own, thrusting against your hand as you stroked him tenderly, gasping against him quietly. It wasn’t hurried but warm and slow, basking in each other’s presence like you had never before discovered the feeling of another’s touch against your own.

“That good?” You replied teasingly, mimicking his earlier words as you smiled a toothy smile, feeling him chuckle lowly at your apparent teasing, giving you a playful slap on your behind as his breathing picked up.

Suddenly, you felt a hand encase your own. As he removed it from his throbbing member, he only grabbed you closer, wounding his arms around your back as he pulled you into a hug, the feeling of him underneath you wonderful as you glided along it–moaning wantonly as the friction shot sharp streaks of pleasure up your body.

“Come on, sweetheart. I’ll warm you up.” As he spoke, he could feel himself shudder as your wet lips encased his tip, groaning audibly as he thought you rubbing against him. You were illegal, he concluded, for nothing could ever be allowed to feel this good–it wasn’t possible.

“Please,” you gasped against his lips, moving your hips slightly as you felt his hands circle your waist. “Please, Arthur.”

He hushed you quietly, finally feeling you wrap your lips around him as he slowly entered your warm cavern, the walls fitting him snugly as a grunt left him unexpectedly, lost in the pleasure you brought him.

While it felt too good to imagine, you could only keep your mouth open at the sensation, wondering how something could ever fill you up quite as good as this. Without a single thought, you sat down entirely, feeling him stretch you wonderfully as you wrapped around all of him, wounding your hands around his neck.

You didn’t need to move much, for he thrust up into you when you had gotten used to his size, feeling yourself being hitched up to his body as the motion made your whole body rise to then fall back down on him, once more filled to the brim. His grunting in your ears filled your senses, and while the slight consciousness entered your mind, wondering what you were doing, you pushed it far back, relishing in how your body responded to his.

Despite the cold that was surely creeping into your bones the more you stayed out here, the sound of skin against skin filling the empty spaces around you made you feel more connected to each other than you had ever felt with anyone else.

You started to move with him, bringing down your hips to meet his while he thrusts into you, growing more desperate by the minute. You found the hands hugging your waist, circling their arms around it, pushing you even further against him as you rested your hands on his cheeks, having no choice but to stare into his lidded eyes as he grunted roughly underneath you.

God, how he wanted to push you down onto the ground and drive into you, damning the snow that covered the ground. Instead, he glided down further from the wall, feeling your weight press against him more as your head found sanction in his neck, feeling his thrusts grow more in power as he pistoned into you harder from the new position.

“Arthur.” You breathed out, feeling the stretch of him grow as the position made him reach even deeper inside you, one arm reaching down to grab your bottom so he could hold you firmer against him.

“I know, honey.” He murmured, head growing dizzy as you clenched around him so wonderfully, mewling sweetly into his ears as you let him take control.

Did it make him an evil man for reveling in what he knew Charles would never gain from you? Maybe it did, but those thoughts were placed far back in his mind as your lips found his, small moans now muted as you grew desperate for his affection, growing insatiable to once more feel the fondness that laid in his every touch.

He had been so angry that someone else had gained the courage to do what he couldn’t, realizing he had been too late. Yet now, as you remain unknowing above him, it only made his lips plant themself firmer against yours, determined to make you understand that nobody could make you feel this way except him.

Grabbing the blanket off your shoulders, he threw it down towards the ground as you gasped, stroking your waist tenderly before slowing his movements.

Your breath heaved something so terrible, your voice shaking as you spoke. “Don’t stop, Arthur. Please.” He felt his stomach coil at your words, throbbing inside you as he moved to a seated position.

“I ain’t stopping, sweetheart,” he let on, leaning you backwards lightly. “Lay back for me, okay?” You did as he said without a protest, the cold now gone as your legs spread from him.

He almost groaned from the sight, taking a moment to observe you as you stared at him through lidded eyes, blushed cheeks so wonderfully red against the whiteness of the snow you almost looked like an angel–your hair spread like a halo around your head where you laid on the blanket.

Crawling over you quickly, he grunted as he felt your hand encasing itself around him, stroking slowly as you guided it to your clenching hole. For a moment, he felt a relief spread through him at the feeling of your walls surrounding him before the sheer and utter desperation set in, beginning to move into you at a faster pace than before.

Your breath hitched at the sudden movement, yet you gripped his arms to keep him there, not baring the thought of him stopping again. Being over you gave him more control, and his primal instincts set in as the coil in his stomach shot burning flashes throughout his body, wanting nothing more than to feel your warm walls around him forever. Maybe it was the desire talking, but he swore that the thought of you being like this with any other man than him would make him heave.

Encasing his arms around you as your hands found his hair, he felt your legs wrap around his waist, now so close he was grounding into you relentlessly. Rough yet tender, he moved into you with care, but you could feel that he was holding back as he panted above you.

“Don’t stop!” You begged him once more amidst his thrusts, pulling on his strands as his lips found the softness of your neck. Why you were begging, you couldn’t say, oblivious to the words leaving your mouth in utter bliss.

“Hm?” He mumbled, smiling lightly from hearing your ruined voice beg him. He felt like a sick man gaining pleasure from it, but his mind was too hazy to take notice, longing to hear those words leave your sweet mouth once more. “What was that?”

“Don’t stop,” you voiced breathlessly as his hand found your breast, rolling the nub softly between his rough fingers. Despite your begging, for his own sickly twisted pleasure his hips ceased their movements, moving torturously slow as he raised his elbows to stare at your tear-filled eyes.

They shot open as he slowed his pace, displeased he didn’t listen as you already felt shameful for sounding so desperate. You couldn’t help it, for it felt too good, and now that he had stopped, you wished he never had. Was he teasing you? The thought made you blush from embarrassment and annoyance, pleading with your eyes.

“No…” You mumbled, trying to move against him, yet his hands held you firm against the ground.

“Say it.” Arthur’s voice was coarse as he spoke, grabbing your hand to place tender kisses on it as your displeased sounds reached his ears. He only got a confused look, smirking slightly at the longing and apparent dissatisfaction plastered on your face. A biting shadowed lust replaced his usually sharp eyes as he watched you, carnal written deeply in his eyes.

“My name, sweetheart. Let me hear you say it.” Suddenly, he pistoned his hips against you, driving up your wet walls as a mewl left you from the sudden force. You felt his intense eyes on you as your eyes shut momentarily, and through your blurred vision, they didn’t stay open for long.

“Arthur,” you moaned, eye-rolling into the back of your head as your back arched, a wave of pleasure shooting through you at his demands. He held the same controlled yet sensual pace, knowing he’d slip out of you if he went any harder. Still, his accuracy was wicked–hitting the right spot with every move.

“That’s it,” he praised you, placing another kiss on your palm as his thrusts increased, grunting roughly as your walls squeezed him tightly. You break into sobs as you reach out to grasp his arms, tilting his head up just enough to let you know he’s watching you, his hazy gaze roving over the devastation on your face.

The snow around you mutes the sound of skin hitting skin as he sets a brutal pace. “I didn’t tell you to stop, sweetheart.” The deep rumble in his chest as he spoke the words laced with possessiveness made your heartbeat pick up faster than it already was, the light ringing in your ears increasing as your body was hoisted up with each of his thrusts.

You call his name like a prayer amidst the pleasure, and satisfaction at hearing his name come so sinfully from your mouth made his eyes roll back, knuckles turning white from gripping the ground so harshly. Oh, you had no idea that every noise you let out from his advances made his heart soar with pride, feeling the softness of your skin under the palm of his hands.

Arthur feels the abrupt stop of movements from your hand, gripping tightly on his arms as you spasm around his cock, clenching tightly as the pads of his fingers come down to rub at your swollen nub as your orgasmed, a loud whine leaving you at the contact. It’s too much for you, the sensation too unfamiliar yet devastatingly addictive–not knowing if you wanted to drive your hips away from his brutal assault or enjoy him even more profoundly.

Even if you had decided on the prior, he didn’t let you, pushing you firm against the ground as he twitched inside you at the noises you let out, groaning lowly as he came inside your warm walls, planting himself deep inside you.

“Christ-” He grunts out, teeth clenched as you feel his cock throb inside you, cum gathering at the base of him as his hips slow to deep thrusts, grinding into you in sheer pleasure as the knot in his stomach unleashed, feeling you placing small kissed on his neck.

The slight motion made him smile amidst his pleasure-filled mind, caressing the curves of your waist as he nestled his head into your neck, still panting heavily. As you both calmed down, it didn’t take long for your hand to find his, fingers wounding themselves around the others in the blissful aftermath.

As you opened your eyes after catching your breath, you found a pair of blue ones already gazing at you. You didn’t speak for a while, both of you trying to digest the situation as tiny snowflakes could be seen falling from the sky through the cracks in the walls. It reminded you of how cold you should have been, but with Arthurs’s broad chest covering you, it felt like you were clinging to a furnace.

“Shit, you must be freezing.” He suddenly let out, shaking his head slightly as if in a daze before rising to pull you with him. As he pulled your skirt down your legs, rubbing them between his hands to warm you up, you could only stare at him in quiet wonder.

“What?” He grumbled out, sniveling lightly as he glanced at you. Had you not wanted this, he wondered, doubt starting to fill his mind. You were too quiet for his liking, only staring at him as he tried to prolong touching your soft skin, fearful of the hurtful words that were sure to come.

“Are you jealous of Charles?”

If crickets had been this far north, they would surely be the only thing audible as Arthur stopped. Bear of a man, hardy and stubborn to many, yet a faint blush could be seen rising to his cheeks as his face lowered–wishing so dearly he could find his hat that had seemingly disappeared so he could hide.

If he had been looking at you, he would have seen the toothy smile covering your face, a tender laugh leaving you as your assumptions became reality. You had to give him credit, though, for he had you completely and utterly fooled.

“No.” He stated firmly, rising on his legs to pull up his pants. He found himself unable to, though, your hand grabbing his suspenders to pull him back down. The same heat that had lessened in his stomach came back as he felt your nimble touch caress him through his pants, gaining a mischievous look from you as you widened your legs.

“Don’t worry, Arthur. I’ll give Charles his gloves back if you stay here and keep me warm.”

Oh dear, that would do it. Whatever thoughts that filled his mind flew out the window, wholly consumed by you as your hands caressed his back, staring expectantly up at him.

“Only me, right?”

“Only you, stupid.”

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption imagine #red dead redemption smut #red dead smut

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mimicmimikyuwrites · 1 month

Text

Loyalty is Hot - Adam (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Reader SMUT

Request: "I was hoping for a fic where Reader is Adam's third wife and they meet Lucifer (maybe in a meeting?) and he states how he could take Reader from Adam as well. Adam is kind of internally panicking as Lucifer states what it took to take his other two wives until Reader gets all fed up and rudely puts him in his place. Causing Adam to get all hot and bothered for his wifey and their loyalty?"

Contents/Possible Warnings: P in V sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, praise kink, creampie, semi-public sex (they fuck in a meeting room), Adam being himself, creampie, slight angst, SMUT, MDNI

You hated meetings, or waking up for them more specifically. It seemed that every time your husband dragged you to one it was at the earliest time possible, a time you'd much rather be spending in bed with him, enjoying the time of day where Heaven was at its most peaceful. It was also the time of day when Adam, sleepy and in a loving mood, was least annoying (which pained you a bit to admit, especially considering how much you loved him.)

"Hey! Wake the fuck up, babe! Don't fall asleep on me, not here." Adam nearly shouted, gently poking at you before you fell asleep on his shoulder in the meeting room. You opened your eyes with a sigh, keeping your head rested against your husband.

"Who are we even meeting with? More importantly, why haven't they shown up yet? It's been at least an hour," You questioned, a rising annoyance in your voice. Adam had sprung this meeting on you at the literal last minute, saying something along the lines of 'I need to show off my hot-as-fuck wife,' before practically dragging you out of bed; no more information given. Being the good wife you were, you accompanied him, albeit with some complaining. The last thing you were expecting, however, was for the meeting to be in Hell.

"We're meeting with Lucifer," He explained, the wide grin on his face shown on his mask. "I can't wait to see that fucker's face when he sees how sexy you are and realizes that you're all mine." One of his hands moved down to place itself on your thigh as he leaned in, smirking. "Who knows, maybe I'll even bend you over and fuck you right here on this table while he—"

You glared at him, smacking his hand away with a hiss of his name. He drew it back, letting out an amused laugh. "We are here on business," You reprimanded, an upset frown on your face. "Could you at least save the horny talk for after the meeting? Y'know when we're not in Hell?" Despite your reaction, you had to admit that the idea your husband had conjured up was kinda hot when you thought about it more in depth.

Fuck, you could see it now, feel it even. Back pressed against the table while your husband loomed over you, beautiful golden eyes staring into yours as you spread your legs for him. His thick cock sinking into you slowly, only for him to start with a quick, animalistic pace–just the way you liked it. Fuck, and the way his hands would reach out, grabbing at whatever he could; your ass, tits, thighs, anything that was soft and grabbable.

You hadn't realized the blush that had spread across your face until you saw your husband's smug grin. "Awww, did that turn you on, baby?" He cooed, almost mockingly. "Remember what you said, 'Save it for after the meeting.' Can't jump on me just quite yet." He leaned back in his chair, the grin on his face only growing as you shot him a harsh glare. As much of a lover of sex as he was, Adam loved teasing you even more.

You opened your mouth to argue back at him, slightly embarrassed by his use of your own words against you, but you were cut off by the sound of the door opening and closing. You turned your head, spotting the King of Hell himself. He looked just the way Adam had always described: pale white skin, rosy red cheeks, golden hair, noseless, and short. So short.

You stood from your seat as Lucifer approached the table, the sound of his boots against the tile of the floor filling the otherwise large, quiet room. You smiled, holding out a hand to shake, your typical behavior for business matters, regardless of who it was. "Hello, Your Majesty," You greeted politely, earning an eye roll from your husband next to you.

Lucifer returned your smile with one of his own, taking your hand and shaking it. "Who might this beautiful angel be, Adam?" He questioned, pressing a light kiss to your hand before letting it go and sitting down. Adam smirked as you sat back in your seat next to him, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you in close; not letting his annoyance at Lucifer's small display of affection be visible on his face.

"This is (Y/N), my wife. She's gorgeous, isn't she? A real hottie. Did I mention she's my wife?" He introduced, taking pride in having you by his side. Lucifer glanced at you, looking unamused by Adam's obvious boast before smiling at you. "Well, I certainly hope she's happy with you. Y'know, considering your history with your other wives." He antagonized, covering it up with a polite tone.

Adam's smile faltered. A sensitive topic had been brought up, one that challenged your husband's confidence. You looked between the two, taking note of how they glared at each other with mutual hatred. Lucifer turned his attention fully onto you, leaning in slightly. "Tell me, dear. Does he even satisfy you? Are you happy with him?" You opened your mouth slightly in shock, taken back by the sudden, blunt questioning.

"Fuck you! Of course she's happy with me!" Adam growled. "She's not like those last two bitches who'd settle for you of all people, you short fuck." Despite his assertion, you could hear the doubt in his voice, like he was trying to convince himself of it, too. Lucifer grinned, sharp teeth on full display, not affected whatsoever by your husband's burst of anger.

"It's not my fault that your wives like me better, Adam," Lucifer replied snidely. "All it took for Lilith was a man who did more than the bare minimum, and as for Eve, all it took was giving her a choice of who she wanted to be with for once, and that someone certainly wasn't you."

Lucifer then motioned to you. "I wonder what it'll take for me to win your third wife over, probably not much, to no fault of her own. You're probably leaving her just as unhappy as you did the last two, Adam." You watched as Adam tensed up at Lucifer's words, any confidence now gone as he struggled to keep up his self-absorbed facade.

"T-Thats not true," He stuttered, one of the few times you had ever seen him do so in all of the years you had known him. The drop in Adam's demeanor was the final straw, and you calmly got up from your seat. Both men's eyes followed you, watching your movements closely. Even with the mask on his face, you could see the fear in your husband's eyes as he watched you approach Lucifer.

"Honey? Baby?" Adam called out to you, watch as your face morphed into one of pure anger; a sight that even scared the King of Hell himself. They both knew that you were far from happy, and that was never a good thing.

"First of all, Lucifer," You hissed, saying his name with pure malice. "I am not Lilith, nor am I Eve. I may have been created with the same purpose in mind, but let it be known that we are far from similar." You slowly got closer to him, almost like a predator stalking its prey in the most terrifying way possible. "Second of all, yes I am happy. Clearly happier with Adam than Lilith was with you, considering how she up and left you and went only God knows where. I also don't see Eve around."

Lucifer's smile fell for the first time that day, and with it, his pride. Adam watched in astonishment as you continued to put Lucifer in his place. "Finally, I need you to understand that you're far from being my type. You're a coward who barely governs his people, yet so proudly calls himself the boss. Then you waltzed in here acting like you knew me better than I know myself, even when we had just met. I love Adam with every fiber of my being, even if he's the most obnoxious jackass I've ever met."

You got even closer, causing Lucifer to lean back in an attempt to escape you. "Oh, and for the record—" You leaned into his ear. "Adam fucks me better than I'm sure you've ever fucked anyone else in your pathetic life. So, yes, he does satisfy me." You whispered. You pulled back suddenly, a smile on your face. "Is that understood?"

Lucifer gulped, nodding in reply. "Lovely." You grinned, moving back to Adam. "Now, I'm afraid we're out of time. We'll have to reschedule this meeting for another day, preferably with someone else. Maybe you can send someone in your stead? Someone who's more politically involved in your Kingdom's workings, perhaps."

Lucifer let out an awkward laugh, standing up before making his way to the door, mumbling something about how we would send his daughter instead next time, before leaving. You stood triumphant, hands on your hips as you watched his departure.

"I—" Adam began, almost at a loss for words. "Are you aware how fucking hot that was!? Holy shit—" He pulled you down into his lap, pulling his mask off before crashing his lips against yours, kissing you eagerly. He pulled you down by the hips, grinding you against him, causing you to feel his growing hard-on through the fabric of his robes. "Fuck–Please, I know you said we have to wait, but please please please let me fuck you right here. Need you now."

You grinded down, a moan escaping both of you. "Why don't you do what you said you'd do earlier, hmm? Fuck me right here on this table, Adam." He bent you over the table, and you let him pull your skirt up just enough for him to be able to then tug your underwear off, tossing it aside somewhere in the room.

"Impatient today, aren't you, hon?" You teased playfully, looking back to find him not even bothering to take off his robes, choosing to pull them up instead. He chuckled, placing his hands on your hips as he lined himself up with your entrance. "Seeing you put annoying little fucks like Lucifer in their place does things to me, baby." He purred, thrusting in.

You let out a gasp at the feeling, his thick cock stretching you out perfectly. His pace was quick from the start, hips snapping against yours as the sound of it all filled the room. "I bet Lucifer couldn't fuck you like this now, could he? No, you need a real man to show you who you belong to." Adam groaned, kissing and nipping at your neck.

"H-He could never," You stuttered, struggling to speak as your mind went foggy from pleasure. "I need—Oh, fuck!" You let out a cry as his fingers found your clit, rubbing at it. "That's a good girl, let all those pretty little noises out." He praised, the sound of your moans more beautiful than any Heavenly choir to him.

"You're so much better than those other whores," He moaned, pounding into you, eyes screwed shut in pure ecstasy. "My perfect fucking wife, the love of my life—Shit—" He let out a growl as you clenched down on him. He let out a sweet laugh, hands moving up to grab at your tits while he fucked into you. "Oh? The praise turns you on, huh? You should be honored to receive it from me."

A mix of your moans and his spread throughout the room as you both drew closer to your climaxes, your shared noises growing louder and louder by the second. "Fuck," He cursed, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he rutted into you. "Gonna cum, 'm gonna fill you up. Maybe I'll even put a baby in you just to show Lucifer how in love with me you are."

"Do it—" You begged, legs quivering as he angled his cock in just the right way for the tip to graze your sweet spot. "Cum inside me Adam, let them know that I'm yours. All yours—A-Adam!" Your orgasm hit you with sudden force, the feeling coursing through you.

"Yesyesyes! Feels so fucking good cumming around me—" The sensation of your pussy contracting around him during your orgasm pushed him over the edge, and he came, shooting thick ropes of cum deep inside of you.

You rested your face against the table, no longer able to hold yourself up by your arms after the energy your climax had used up. Your orgasm subsided, but your body still shook, lightly trembling from the enjoyable onslaught it had just endured. You took deep breaths as Adam pulled out of you, feeling his cum leaking out of your well-fucked cunt.

He pressed soft kisses to your neck, holding you as you both basked in your post-orgasmic bliss together. "I love you," He mumbled against your neck, smiling. "You seriously have no idea how grateful I am for you to be my wife. You're absolute perfection, sweetheart." He pulled himself off of you, sitting back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face. "You think some sinner scum is gonna have to clean our mess up? That shit would be hilarious."

You sighed, shooting him a harsh look that he only laughed at. "Adam," You warned. "Have some respect, would you?" He laughed again, pulling you down into his lap, grinning. "Respect? Baby, we just screwed in a fancy meeting room. We are past the point of failing to show respect."

He leaned in closer to you, mischief in his golden eyes. "Now, why don't we go for a round two?"

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tojisun · 14 days

Text

“ghost,” price’s voice rumbles in his ear, the faint static almost breaking through his focus. there’s a familiar cadence in his captain’s voice, one that drags against simon’s body in miasmic waves—it is, after all, nothing short of a warning. still, none of it matters, and simon continues to march on.

“the mission–”

“stopped being my priority,” simon replies, cutting him off.

there was nothing but a crackle. a quiet whirring. then, “you know this is not what they would want.”

he grunts. “good thing they’re not here then.”

simon slinks into the shadows, ducking underneath the balcony, his eyes frantic as he scans the parameters. it’s safe. quiet. too quiet, in fact.

“location?”

“south of the chapel,” gaz replies with no hesitation. simon hums to himself—price must’ve shifted his directives too, then.

“roger.”

he moves, his boots crunching against the gravel and filling up the dead passage way with just enough noise. there’s still a whole lot of suspicious inactivity, one that makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise up, but he doesn’t get to dwell on the thought anymore. not when a loud bang rips through the silence.

his breath stutters, mind racing—that sound came from the shed.

his legs tense, muscles rippling.

“shots fired!” he reports before he leaps, devouring the vast space between himself and the sounds of scuffling. prayers form on the tip of his tongue, racing down his throat like scalding water.

he’s not even a religious man, but dear gods–

simon passes around the chapel, eyes cataloguing the lit rooms inside what he was told to be a desolate building, before tearing through the wooded shed. he knows he should’ve searched the area for any threat, should’ve probably waited for backup, but simon’s been running on overdrive, his emotions piling. spilling.

he tears the door open, guns poised for easy aim. only–

simon’s body buckles, throat constricting with the words he wishes he can say. but there is nothing else to be said. nothing but thank you’s.

because there, standing in the middle of the chaos, bloody and wounded and banged up to hell, is you. you weren’t even taken for that long but look how much they did to you. they hurt you.

your feet are soaked with blood, your boots and socks having been stripped off of you as though a part of their attempts at making you incapable of leaving. your face is swollen. marked up. cuts trace from the angle of your jaw to the side of your temple, leaving blood to trickle down to your neck, staining your tee. the gash doesn’t look deep, but maybe that’s all the blood covering the actual extents.

simon forces himself to breathe. to stay still.

(everyone has their own triggers, that’s what they were first told when laswell brought you to them.

“remember theirs and be careful,” she said before a pleased smile tugged at her lips. “mommy’s bringing home a new littermate. aren’t you all glad?”

the meeting ended there, just as johnny opened his mouth to complain. price passed around your file and simon memorized every line that night—your tell, your preferred gun, your morning beat.

somehow, he thinks that maybe that night was when his devotion to you started.)

simon watches—he’s always been watching you since the day that you arrived—as you compose yourself. the m9 is still gripped so tightly in your trembling fist, the metal quietly creaking at the pressure. it fills up the space in tandem with your ragged breaths, and he knows you’re still there, trapped in the depths of your mind.

alone. angry. scared.

“status?” price asks.

simon licks his lips. “unstable.”

he hears the faint crackle of johnny cursing from the other end of the line, and simon gets him. he really does. but he thinks they also just don’t understand.

you’re here. alone. alive.

your spiral is just proof of that. proof that even in your loneliness, amidst the pain, you clawed your way to survival.

simon hopes you two were back home—the barracks have been home for years now—so he can reward you. sweetly. fully. you deserve all that and more. deserve to be devoted on. to be adored. to be revered.

you were always beautiful, of course, but there is something sacred in seeing you like this: bloodied, angered, victorious.

he prays that your wounds will turn to scars, if only to give him a map of where to press his kisses from now on.

“ghost?” you finally mutter, and it tears simon from his thoughts. your voice is a weak rasp, like you’ve been parched for eons, and despite that, it spills the tension from simon’s body, his muscles loosening up at finally seeing you return to the topside.

he wants to say your name. he wants to sound it out—aren’t names made to be chanted like prayers, anyway?—but he reels himself in and mutters your callsign instead. the name tumbles from his mouth with the desperation and the worry smothered under the guise of grace.

your lips twitch up in an attempt at a smile. they don’t really get to make it much because of the gash running down the corner of your mouth. still, it makes simon stumble over his feet until he is rushing past corpses and sliding into your space.

“can i–”

he doesn’t even get to finish asking before you’re falling into his arms, tucking in your bruised face carefully on the crook of his neck. he takes your bulk in his embrace, folding you to himself, before he rests his chin on the top of your head.

you fist at his vest, your other hand still tight on the m9, and simon can’t really blame you. even he still feels exposed to any danger from in and out of this shed even when you’ve taken out all of the enemies. so he holds you close and holds you tight, knowing every second is sacred.

he breathes you in, taking in the scent of the leather, gun powder, and iron. it all feels familiar to him; it all smells like you.

simon nuzzles the smooth part of his mask over your temple. then, “let’s go home?”

you shift until you’re peering up at him, and simon takes this as the chance to catalogue the extent of your wounds. his lips purse at finally seeing the gash; you would probably need stitches.

“okay,” you finally reply. your eyes wrinkle as you attempt to smile. “thanks for comin’ back f’r me.”

“always,” simon murmurs, feeling choked up as his exhaustion finally catches up on him. “y’know that, right?”

you hum, nodding, and that was that.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod x reader #cw guns #cw violence #suns #sooooo idk where this came from or why i even wrote it but ALAS

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rs-hawk · 1 month

Note

do you have any tentacle stuff? im thinking maybe an ursula-style octopus merman bf

I don’t have anything tentacle like that but it does sound interesting so-

You always loved the beach so when you were able to book an Air BNB with a private beach, you were ecstatic. Finally you could relax on the sandy ground without anyone bothering you or worrying about having to move.

As you settled onto your towel with nothing on (because everyone hates tan lines, right?), you didn’t notice the curious eyes watching you from the deep waters. When you slipped a swimsuit on, just in case, and plunged into the cool waves, you didn’t realize that there was something just out of sight with his hungry gaze fixed on you. That would change the next day, however.

The next morning, you took off at dawn to the beach. You set everything up, eagerly waiting for the sun to finish rising. In awe, you watched the sunrise the same way that the creature that was creeping up from the depths was watching you. As soon as you’re in the water, tentacles were wrapping around your ankles, your waist. Puckers leaving soft pink marks all over your skin.

“Oh!” you squeak, lifting your legs to look what’s all over you. You gently touch the tentacle around your waist, confused but curious. “What’s this then?”

“Hello,” the octo-man said as he slowly broke the water’s surface. It seemed like he was nervous.

“Hello,” you echoed, looking at him with a tilted head.

He reached out to touch you, and a chill snaked down your back. His hand felt so squishy but also velvety. Kind of like the tentacles. In seconds, his lips were on yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth as if staking a claim.

Your body reacted on its own, curling into his, wrapping your arms around him. In seconds, he dragged you to a small partially underwater cave just a little ways off the shore. The merman set you on a shelf of the cave, leaving you only up to your knees in the water.

“My little trinket,” he muttered as he began to tease your cunt over your swimsuit bottom.

You whimpered softly, bucking your hips slightly against the sucker that was now attached to your clit with only the thin fabric between. He smirked at your obvious need. The tentacle itches away from you before another joined it to strip your bottoms. Your cunt was already getting slick, much to his excitement. His tentacles wrapped around your body, teasing you, prodding you.

Suckers found your sensitive nipples, and another found it’s way back to your clit, making you cry out in pleasure. Your cunt was throbbing, nearly dripping. “Fuck,” you moaned, arching more against his tentacles.

That was all it took for him. His largest tentacle began to push into your cunt, stretching you wide. You whimpered and moaned as he slowly stretched you out, your cunt gripping it as each inch pushed deeper and deeper into you. Another pushed into your mouth, down your throat. You gagged as you were stretched to what you thought was your limit. Then, your lover, his eyes half lidded as he groped and touched your soft human body, began to lift you slightly. His six other tentacles wrapped around you, helping lift you off the shelf. You didn’t think much of it, blissed out and on the edge of orgasm.

Just as suddenly as he lifted you, he unwound one of his tentacles from your waist, pushing it inside of your ass. You cried out against the tentacle in your mouth, but barely anything came out. He laid you down, unwinding another tentacle and shoving it into your already stretched cunt. Soon enough none where holding you as you were laid out on the shelf, your feet only in the water. A sucker was back on your clit, teasing you until you finally pulsed around the tentacles inside of you, drawing them in closer.

“There we go. That’s a good trinket,” he huffed, his sloppy kisses lining your neck.

He pushed his largest tentacle so deeply inside of you that you were certain it was in your womb. A bulge in your stomach seemed to confirm it. He panted as he came, the hot liquid a stark contrast to how cool he felt. Your eyes rolled back in your head, pathetic little whines pushing against the tentacle in your mouth.

The largest tentacle withdrew, dribbling a white liquid. However, the smaller one stayed inside, as if keeping you plugged. The tentacle in your mouth finally let you breath, withdrawing to lazily wrap around your chest. The only one actively thrusting into you now was the one in your ass, slowly and deliberately timing the thrusts to the sucking of the sucker still on your clit.

You don’t know how long you lay there, moaning and begging the merman to keep going, but by the time his cum is leaking out of you and multiple loads have been dumped into your little human womb, it’s sunrise again.

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janitorhutcherson · 5 months

Text

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt

surprise, bitches!!! im giving yall a lil taste of some more writing. im not really on hiatus (obvi, i post every 5 minutes) but i've been sooooo busy that i haven't been able to post half as much. with that being said, here are some more in depth headcanons ab yandere!mike. :p could not have done this without @futturmand literally helping me (coming up w/) most of these. thank u bae.

warnings: drugging, violence, sex, daddy kink, abusive tendencies

------------------

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt was kinda an asshole. to his coworkers, random customers at the mall, anybody who came too close to you, and yes, even sometimes to you. he was the kind of guy who had a semi-permanent grimace on his face. the corners of his mouth would turn into smiles typically only when he was with abby or you two were alone and he could let his guard down. of course, even then, the moment you caught an attitude, that grimace would appear right back on his face. his demeanor was typically gruff. he was the kind of guy most people didn't want to mess with. this meant any male coworkers around you would be tested their fate to even glance at you the wrong way and god forbid mike saw one of them brush something off of your shoulder. that would truly be the end of them.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt is very obsessive over safety. after losing garrett, he has this urge to do nothing but to protect. this means that mike is the type of guy to want your location at all times. not only that, but he wants to know what you're doing, who you're with, and what time you'll be home. he expects a text when you leave, a text when you get there, an hourly check-in, then a text on your way home. it brings him a sense of peace, knowing where you are. he watches life360 obsessively when you're not in his sight, watching your little bubble move through wherever you may be. he's constantly checking the speed of the car you're in, occasionally stalking your friend's instagram stories to see where you are. he's overprotective to the extent that it can be overbearing, but at the end of the day it's endearing knowing he cares that much.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt uses the fact that you're younger than him to manipulate you. he's less about violence or anything physical and instead uses his words. he will constantly remind you how helpless you are without him, how he has so much more life experience than you. he'll point out randomly when you mention not knowing how to do something, saying something like, "see, babydoll, where would you be without me? that's right, nowhere. you need me to take care of you." he's also the kind of guy to eventually make you financially dependent on him if he could ever afford it. he would never put you in that spot until he was comfortable enough to do so, though, meaning it might be a loooong time before that ever happened.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt treats you less like a partner and more like a little sibling, kinda like he treats abby. as strange as it is, he also feels a paternal instinct to protect you. it comes from his deep-rooted feelings of abandonment. he lost garrett, his mom, his dad, and sometimes he feels like abby hates him. he loves that you listen to him, that he can command you to do something and you'd be so good for him. he absolutely adores being able to control different aspects of your life, making you completely reliant on him. it makes him feel special and needed, which he hasn't felt in a very long time. he loves nothing more than when he gets to scold you almost like a parent, your eyes falling to the ground, that adorable wounded puppy look he loves so much taking over your face.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt is incredibly clingy and touch starved. he wants to have a hand on you 24/7. forget having personal space, because you are not getting it with him. he'd follow you around, watching you everywhere you'd go. his hands would grip onto your hips so tightly sometimes it'd feel like they were glued to them. he'd always have his arms around you, kissing at your neck, nipping in a way you felt shouldn't be shown in public. mike didn't care, he wanted everyone to know you belonged to him in every single way. he controlled you, and if he wanted to embarrass you and turn your face red by leaving purple marks on your neck in the middle of a shopping plaza, then so be it. you would take it or be punished.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt who of course uses his sleeping pills on you when you're being a little brat. he isn't violent with you for the most part except for the rare occasion when he will hold you down onto the bed until you'll listen, but otherwise he opts for something simpler. when you're being a little too frustrating for him, going against his every command or you're not feeling like being held, mike will simply crush up his sleeping pills, slip them into your water. he's careful with you once you doze off, never abusing you in any way. all he will do is tuck you into your shared bed and hold your body in his arms, whispering sweet nothings as you're off in your own sweetly drugged up world.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt would most definitely have a thing for being called daddy. sorry guys, it had to be said. hot take, i guess. considering he did want to protect you so thoroughly, he loved when you'd call him daddy. it made him feel like your protector, like you knew he was the one that did everything for you. it was so crazy how such a simple word could change his whole day. he loved hearing it fall out of your lips as he'd brush through your hair or wash your body off in the shower. "thank you, daddy," you'd hum and he'd grin ear to ear. "you're welcome, babydoll," he'd always say, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

#josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson imagine #mike schmidt smut #yandere #yandere mike schmidt #olderbf!mike #olderbf!mike schmidt #olderbfyandere!mike schmidt

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hwajin · 1 month

Text

☆°. — ғɪғᴛᴇᴇɴ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇs ᴘᴀsᴛ ғᴏᴜʀ | hhj

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, fluff

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hyunjin x afab!reader

𝐰𝐜: 3.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, cumming inside

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is barely proof read AND inspired by the bathrobe look in paris but also hyunjin in milan 🫶 hope you like it <333

You could feel his gaze on you. On your figure, your body. On your whole. The clear sound of his 2B pencil dancing along the cheap, store-bought paper echoed quietly in contrast to the music playing somewhere in the back, from the radio, or one of your phones, or from outside your hotel room altogether — it didn’t much matter to you, for his gaze on your body, on your figure, on your whole was all that did.

You weren’t sure if he was aware that you were aware — his eyes on you, the pencil scratching against the paper; you knew you were the object for his current spurt of creativity. The object of his inspiration. The object of his works — his very own and personal muse. You knew, and the knowledge, the very thought alone, made you dizzy, made you lose track of the sentence you were reading in the tour guide provided by the hotel.

Milan was beautiful. You were working your way through page after page, taking in museums and cathedrals, art galleries you knew Hyunjin would die to see. One page, his gaze on you, long, intimate, longing. Another page, eyeing the ‘Pinacoteca di Brera’, putting in a bookmark to later show him, and you felt his eyes on you again. Unbudging. Persistent. He either was unsure of your anatomy, or simply enjoyed to stare.

“I can feel you staring, you know.”

You looked up, and your eyes momentarily locked with his own, dark ones. Sparking. Speaking, without words. His hair had dried a good bit ever since he’d stepped out the shower, the white bathrobe snug loosely around his naked body leaving only so much to imagination. You looked at him, smiling, teasing, and he stared back — aware, and smug. His eyes wandered down to his art again — faint strokes of your face adorning the page and you wondered what had moved Hyunjin to capture you in this very moment — it was mundane, the moment, and you didn’t look any bit different – or, better, for that matter – than you did any other day. You were reading a tour guide, lazy, tired, solemn — you wondered where he saw the beauty in that.

“I know. I don’t mind that you can feel it.”

A pang to your heart, and he looked up from his page again, after adding lines here and there which as though magically transformed into plasticity, into your eyes and nose and mouth. You were fascinated by his art. You grew bashful at his words. And you were enamored by his eyes, his face. His whole; the way he looked. Milan was beautiful — but suddenly you forgot all about the tour guide, about the trip here you had bought for his birthday. You forgot all about the sights and museums and art galleries, for he sat across from you, sight enough, creating the only art you ever wished to look at.

You were sure you blushed, your skin acquainting the same colour of the roses blooming on the table in a vase. You could smell them, their scent spreading all around and luring you into depths so captivating you wanted to exist in them for eternity.

Only now you noticed the red paint by your lover’s side, only after thorough inspection of him. He parted his eyes from your own with a grin and continued on his drawing — on your drawing, ultimately, because you knew he’d gift it to you after finishing touches —; his hands reached after the brush laying beside his paper, and with a dip into beforehand-prepared water he activated the red colour, and let it swim across white paper. You couldn't take your eyes off him. You couldn’t take your eyes off the way his hands controlled the paint on his canvas, how the pigment drowned and spread and melted against the grey lines of pencil. Taking everything in, swallowing details, yet enhancing the object of the art, enhancing features of your face. Your cheeks suddenly shone red now on the white paper — and maybe it had been his aim after all, to make you shy, to make you bashful. Reality materialised onto paper, into art. Love did, for every brushstroke, every further pigment of red paint on white canvas meant love, for every further gaze of his, for reference or his own enjoyment you weren’t sure, meant adoration.

It took Hyunjin far longer to finish the painting than he had intended it to. Not because he was struggling with it — drawing you in all shapes and forms was a second nature to him by now —, and not because of exterior reasons altogether. Yet he sat and painted, away and away, adding a line here, colour there, watching you go back to the tour guide; he was sure that it could not possibly take you so long to finish it. That you were spending far too much time on each page, that you were eyeing Hyunjin far too often after every other sentence you read. That it wouldn’t possibly take you so long to inspect sights and places — but that you and him were set on the same mission, seemingly, on the same, interior goal. Finishing the tour guide, completing the painting — meant ending the moment. Ending the tranquility, discarding, ultimately, from admiring the other in the golden light of the slowly setting sun, shadows of trees and buildings casting paintings on your faces. The moment would end, the sun would set, would stop drowning the ebony furniture in your hotel room in golden showers, snow-white bed sheets in warm rays.

You looked up; Hyunjin looked at you, inspecting, one second, another, before he went back to his painting, as concentrated as he had stared at you. You let your eyes wander to somewhere behind him — you looked out the western window, which blind’s didn't do well in saving you from the blinding sun, though you wouldn't have wanted them to, admired the sunset, the city that laid in it, the foreign neighbourhood, the white sky. Maybe Hyunjin caught beauty there — the rich sun on your face. Your sparking eyes, your gleaming expression. Almost sacred, solemn. Meant for only the two of you.

You caught glimpse of the broken clock on the wall behind him, showing fifteen minutes past four — it had been showing fifteen minutes past four for the past two hours now. Or for the past three? How much later was it now, ever since you had settled into the hotel room? The sun had long started to set behind the horizon, though it had stood at its highest spot when you had first entered the single bedroom for two; yet maybe no time had passed at all. Maybe in his presence love was eternal, unending.

You stood up. You had been looking at Hyunjin for far too long; had been only looking at him, inspected his every move, reciprocated his every long, fixed stare, shuddering beneath it simply. You had studied his ever-drying dark hair, his ever-parting bathrobe, his naked collarbones, his paint-laced fingers. The way he stared you down, the way he left you vulnerable and naked with as much as a gaze – and you felt touch starved. His eyes burned on your skin, though it wasn’t sensation enough to satisfy you – you needed more of him. You would always need more of him.

Hyunjin’s eyes followed your figure as you made your way over to him. Without a rush, walking slowly; you bore all the time the world had to offer in your palms, it felt. You walked slowly, yet the scent of the red roses you passed filled Hyunjin’s senses in the breeze your movements created. The floral sensation all around him, your nearing body, your leisure attire, your hazy eyes – he was convinced this moment alone, the sight of you, the golden sun as though casting a halo above your figure, drowning you in warmth and beauty and love, this moment alone was entirely enough to eradicate each and every of his needs, any wish he’s ever wished and any promise he’s ever made; for this moment alone, and your heaven-sent presence was enough to fulfill all. Needs, wishes, promises. If it was you he could look at for eternities, if it was your body he’d have the privilege of holding close for the end of times he would never dare to ask of anything else.

The red paint on Hyunjin’s paper slowly dried out as you finally stood before him. It wasn’t, Hyunjin thought, the roses on the table in a vase which sent their scent across the room, after all – it was you. You smelt of roses. You smelt of vanilla, of red paint, of smoke, of Milan, now that you stood before him, now that he looked up at you, from beneath glasern eyes. You smelt like you, and you smelt like him; traces of his scent and his touch and his promise on your skin, and Hyunjin basked in it.

You didn’t waste much time before you made moves to take a seat on his lap; and not only did Hyunjin realize your attempts momentarily, he also embraced you without as much as hesitation. He found himself drowning in the feeling of your weight on him, allowing you to swallow him whole, allowing you to let your eyes explore. You let them wander from his face to his neck, from his protruding collarbones to his pointy shoulders – the white bathrobe was almost mocking now, doing so little in covering the man that it was nothing but ironic.

And you felt his hands on you, your body. Secure, sure of their position on your hips. Tall fingers, spacey palms; you felt their entirety on your body, and your red heart picked up its’ speed at that.

And you touched him, too. Your hands, cool and soft, found home on his face, each palming a cheek, closing him in. Your thumbs caressed his flush skin, tickled near his eyes, reached towards his parted lips, his hungry lips. Hyunjin looked at you, let you touch him, his face. Let you look at him. Let you make him wait on the kiss he so badly needed, let you bask in him, for he enjoyed nothing more than that.

Your eyes met, and you weren’t sure who granted the first smile, but both your mouths turned upwards, curling into softening features. Roses, red paint, Milan outside the window; though this moment contained of only you and him, and the broken clock, fifteen minutes past four, timelessness. You showed your teeth, your eyes squinting with your smile, and Hyunjin’s were the same.

“Hi.”

A whisper against quiet music and honking cars, angry passengers outside, and Hyunjin reciprocated with a chuckle. Then, a whisper as soft as the prior one, “Hi.”; and he pulled you in. Or maybe he reached for you, longed for you. Or maybe you both moved only enough for your lips to connect, finally, in soft passion. Vigorously, though not in haste, not in roughness. Forcefully, rather, impatiently forceful as you let your tongue dart out of your mouth so it could explore his, and it didn’t take the man as much as a minute to welcome you in, to invite you into himself. And you let your tongue dance with his own, in a waltz, or something faster than that, something less rhythmic – something freer. Your hands stood ground on his body, fingers digging into his shoulder as his dug into your flesh, in covered flesh by your aching hips. Your mouths moved against one another sloppily, and teeth dragging across lips, tongues easing off the sting right after, wet, loud, swallowing any sound which slipped past your throats. Quiet, still timid, breathy sighs which tasted of chocolate and shaky moans which were barely audible against exterior noise. You saw stars behind your eyelids – if because you squeezed them shut so tight it hurt, or because Hyunjin’s touch on your body, the bite he had just placed on your lower lip, and the way he pulled away right after, only for a second, less than that, to admire you with a smile before diving back into you, you weren’t sure, but there were stars all the same. Stars, and Hyunjin, darkening Milan behind the hotel room windows. Fifteen minutes past four. Timelessness.

Hyunjin pulled you closer. Impatience, or simply the need to have you nearer, more flushed against his body than you already were. His hands lay strong on your body, and he pulled you in, your cores coming in contact, hot, ignited, searching for more than this. Than clothed touches, more than the faint feeling of his erection against your sex. More than his hands in your hair, entangling long, warm fingers there, more than his teeth bruising your lips. You’d always want more – and you were glad that Hyunjin was no different. For his hands wandered, and his lips with them, kissing and nibbling where his fingers danced upon – your neck, your shoulders, then, your chest, unbuttoning your shirt one by one, not without a kiss to your skin with every further act of undressing. One button, a kiss, a gaze up to you beneath his lashes, a faint smile, a smug grin at your scrunched brows and staggered breath. Another button, another kiss, and his gaze fell back to your chest, watching your ever-exposing body, so impatient in his seat yet so unrushed. Taking his time. Feeling your bosom rise and fall against his lips, hearing your breath, your sighs, your heartbeat. Feeling hot – your skin was burning, your body was, and Hyunjin with it.

Your shirt was discarded onto the floor. Long forgotten, along with your shorts; Hyunjin’s bathrobe lay leisurely around him, half-opened, only carelessly shoved off his body yet not having borne enough patience to fully free him from it. Though neither of you cared. You let the fabric hang off the chair you were sitting on, the softness of it the only thing touching your skins besides each other's skin. You were closer now, much closer than before, though you barely deemed it possible. You sat right atop Hyunjin’s erection, his right hand resting against your inner thigh – he wasn’t touching yet, only teasing to, and your body grew hotter yet, needier. Your hips searched for friction, your fingers dug into Hyunjin’s scalp with a force which made the man groan out in deep satisfaction, and you kissed him with a fervor enough to move oceans – and he drowned in it, gave into you, kissed you back as feverishly, as messily.

He touched you, too. Finally, eventually, and you muffled a loud moan at the unexpectedness of it. Two fingers against your clit as Hyunjin’s tongue entered your mouth, as he forced your tongue to push against his own – to which you obliged, gladly. You moaned into him as you reciprocated his kiss, grinded your hips into his touch, into his hand. He answered with a sigh, with fingers which increased their speed, with a bite against your lower lip. It ought to hurt by now, your lower lip, with the way he was nibbling at it, though you believed that your body was immune to feel pain in relation to your lover. So, he bit away, nibbled on the sweet spot of your neck, on the lobe of your ear only to moan right into it, to send shivers down the entirety of your body, and you let him. And there was no better feeling, you believed.

You disconnected your lips from his. There was a second where his mouth searched for yours, where his body hadn’t yet registered the emptiness your parting left, but then he looked at you, leaned back in his chair, eyes glassy, fingers circling around your clit slowly, mindlessly. As though it was a bodily reaction, an instinct. As though he wasn’t actively aware of his movements at all. His breath hitched in his throat, and he looked a mess – pupils blown out, eyes dark as night, hair disheveled, mouth red and puffed and bruising. There were faint love bites blooming on his neck already, ones that would turn a deep red, or a deep purple by the next morning. The sun had almost set behind the horizon, was casting its’ last, weak rays upon the planet – and those last, weak rays of golden light seemed all to land on the man beneath you. He shone, almost golden himself, chest and cheeks flushed red, and he was glowing. Glowing in the way he looked at you, glowing the smile he granted you, genuine, true. He waited on you, waited on a kiss, or on something else, something more, maybe. Yet he let you stare at him, let you admire him in the last, weak rays of sunshine that seemed to have been saved up for him, solely – and then you kissed him, unable to resist wide eyes and longing mouth, and he kissed you back. Touched you, and you let your hands wander down his body, not missing a single line on it, not missing an inch before your hand palmed his crotch. You could sit and kiss him forever, could bask in him and his body for eternity – but you were impatient, too, especially when it came to him, to your lover. When it was him, you lost control of yourself, of your body, of your soul. It belonged to him entirely, all of it.

He let you sink onto him. Hyunjin let you bury your face in the sweatiness of his neck, in its’ sensitivity, let you groan out into his ear as you felt him bottom out entirely. He let you adjust to him, and you let him hold you, against him, against his body, your heart against his own, chest to chest. You let him whisper sweet nothings, promises, and confessions, and entire worlds. You loved his never tiring tongue in moments of intimacy – he talked and talked and talked, words sweeter than honey could ever be, and sounds more sinful than anything you’d ever known.

You screamed out when he moved. Thrusting his hips into your own, up and deeper inside of you, and you struggled to keep your composure. Your arms snug tightly around his body, around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer – you melted into one as he kept moving into you, both hands keeping a steady position on your hips, to hold you in place, or to grant you stability, or to grant himself some. And the room erupted into a symphony of your voices, of your moans and grunts and sighs, whispers and whines of each other’s names. Your senses filled with everything that was him – his voice, deep and longing and loud in your ear, his hand bruising your flesh, groping at you so harshly you saw stars, his scent, his golden body, his mouth on your skin. Everything was him, his erection so very deep within you that it almost hurt, though not quite, his right hand which suddenly found its’ way to your clit again. Drawing figures eight there impatiently as his hips grew frantic, slowly losing rhythm.

Your body ignited. It was hot, it was wet and a mess, and it was fifteen minutes past four. The broken clock on the wall behind Hyunjin capturing you two in its’ timelessness, in its infinity. It had stopped solely for you, for your love, for your souls. Your eyes closed shut when Hyunjin bit against your neck, when his teeth grazed your skin just deep enough to not break it, to not draw blood, and you came against his body in shaking waves, with a broken moan which was swallowed by the man in an instant. You felt him fill you up as he groaned into the kiss, as he let his tongue enter your mouth in lazy manner, careless now of sloppiness, of the lack of coordination. He held you close, he thrusted into you tiredly, he let you hold him. He let you kiss him, just as tired, just as lazy, basking in him, in his taste, in his scent.

Milan was beautiful. Night began to drown the city in darkness, buildings and trees, cars and people and the world losing color, quieting down. But it was still fifteen minutes past four – and you sat in Hyunjin’s hold for an eternity longer, in hushed giggles and shy confessions, and loved each other throughout the entirety of the night.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @wolfennracha @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife

#hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #hyunjin imagines #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz scenarios #hwang hyunjin smut #stray kids hyunjin smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios

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cordeliawhohung · 4 months

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i’m going feral for shy!reader x mafia!underboss simon like i need him flirting with her at johns club and her blushing hard at him lighting touching her cheek but also she doesn’t really know how to flirt and is getting all flustered but he enjoys watching her get flustered while there’s a crowd of people around them

oh i've had an idea about this brewing in my mind for a bit and i'm so glad that i can use you a catalyst to make it everyone else's problem <3 think of this as a part 2 to this drabble here

mafia!141 masterlist

warnings: fem!reader, fluff and flirting, some tension, mentions of alcohol/club settings, reader is too shy for her own good lmao, short-ish drabble/oneshot

The very appearance of the building in front of you spoke volumes, warning you to turn around and run away while you still could. Dark, thumping music sounded more like an alarm than it did something to dance to, and the stench of alcohol was strong even from outside. To make things worse, you were very much out of your depth not only in location, but in the clothes you wore. Some short, scantily dress your friend insisted you borrow from her because a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt simply wouldn't do in a place as high profile as her husband's club. You tried to feel confident, or at least appear so. Tried to straighten your back and relax your face as if you were above everything in that building, but you were never very good at pretending.

However, nothing was worse than the fact Simon fucking Riley stood outside the door to greet the two of you. At first, you almost didn't recognize him with the face mask on and the long sleeves covering his tattoos, but you'd recognize those eyes of his anywhere. So dark in the dim lighting that attempted to illuminate the area outside of the club, you knew you would get lost in them if you stared at them too long.

"Evening, ladies," he greeted. His voice was all too familiar, and you tried not to think about how you still felt his breath on your ear when he taught you how to shoot pool.

"Riley," your friend whined, "don't tell me John sent you."

He crossed his arms over his chest, and you found yourself having to look away from how his biceps bulged with the movement. "Boss's orders."

"So much for girls night," she muttered.

"Don't worry 'bout it," he assured while his eyes flickered to you. "You won't even know I'm here."

And he was right. Mostly, anyway. Once he led the two of you into the building, up past the lower level and up into the elevated and sparsely dense VIP section of the bar, Simon had pretty much blended in with the shadows. You and your friend were unbothered while you enjoyed your free drinks (thanks to either John or Simon, you didn't know for sure) all while you tried to ignore the fact you were in your a place that utterly terrified you.

Of course, all good things had to come to an end. Eventually John emerged from somewhere in the mass of bodies that surrounded you, and your friend, who was more than a little tipsy by that point, hung off of his arm within an instant. And it was kind of cute, watching the way John rested his hands on her hips while she tried to make him dance with her. Yet, at the same time, you got secondhand embarrassment from it, so you averted your gaze as you looked down at the dance floor on the lower level. There were so many people packed together, jumping and dancing to the music, that it looked like a pulsing mass of flesh. The sight of it mixed with the alcohol in your stomach and you started to feel queasy.

"Wanna get some fresh air?"

You hadn't even realized Simon had walked up to you until he was right next to you, arms resting on the railing that separated you from becoming a messy stain on the lower level.

"Huh?" you asked, not because you hadn't heard him, but because you were somewhat perplexed by his offer.

Though his mouth was covered by that black medical mask, you could still see his smirk crinkle the corner of his eyes. Before he explained any further, his hand gently reached up where he grazed his thumb along the flesh of your cheek. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you found yourself utterly frozen by the gesture. You tried not to think about how warm his hand was on your skin, or how your stomach fluttered at his touch just like it had the last time his skin had grazed yours. As you tried to hold back a shiver, you silently prayed no one was looking at the two of you.

"Thought we could give the lovebirds over here some alone time," he finally continued as he pulled his hand away from your face. He flicked his middle finger along the flesh of his thumb, as if he had taken something on your face and was getting rid of it, but since he didn't even bother to look at his hand before doing so, you couldn't help but wonder if there had even been something on your face to begin with.

God, it was fucking hot in that building, and the cool night air was a welcomed feeling on your exposed skin. Towards the back of the VIP section was the entrance to the terrace, where plenty of people still mingled about, but it was significantly more quiet than inside. Simon led you underneath the hanging lights over to a dark corner where the railing looked too sketchy to be safe or up to code.

"You smoke?" Simon asked as he dug his hand into the pocket of his jeans.

You watched him carefully as he took out a pack of smokes and started beating the bottom of the carton against the palm of his hand. His fingers wrapped around the object with ease, and you swallowed hard as you shook your head.

"Good," he hummed as he removed his mask and lazily shoved it into his pocket, "don't start."

You didn't mean to stare, and you really hoped he didn't notice, but it was impossible for you to tear your eyes away from him. How could anyone expect you to when the cigarette sat so perfectly between his lips while he lit it? It only got worse when he held it limply between his fingers and exhaled the smoke out into the night air.

"You look good," he commented as he nodded his head at you.

"Oh, uhm," you muttered in surprise. You stared down at yourself and the obnoxiously sequined dress your friend insisted you wore and self consciously pulled at the skirt. "Thanks. I'm, uh, just borrowing the dress."

He hummed as he placed the cigarette between his lips again. "You'd still look good despite it."

This was strange. Something you weren't used to. Being complimented. Having someone look at you in a way that made your stomach churn, and it only got worse the longer you stood there speechless. And you tried to come up with a response, but the wider his smirk became, the harder it was for you to formulate a sentence.

And god, he wouldn't look away from you, like his eyes were stuck on you for the rest of eternity. Not even as he stepped closer to you. It felt like he was the sun, and the closer he got the warmer you felt until you were rendered breathless. He was so... close and just so... fuck. Fuck you wished he'd stop looking at you like that. Like he wanted to eat you alive, like he wanted to devour you, like-

"We should go back inside." The words left your mouth, no matter how hard you tried to hold them back. It was all too much at once, between the crowd of people, how flustered this man made you; all of it was too much.

"Right," Simon hummed. "Should make sure Mrs. Price isn't getting in too much trouble," he teased.

Yet, neither of you moved. Simon raised the cigarette to his mouth again and took a long drag of it. Instead of turning his head to the side to exhale, he leaned his head back and let the smoke drift up and out of his mouth. And you were stunned, eyes locked on him as he did so, too captivated by the skin of his throat and the curve of his Adam's apple to look away. Then his head rolled back down where his eyes found you once again and his lips pulled into that signature smirk he could never seem to wipe off when he was around you.

He gestured towards the door that led back inside of the club as he flicked the ash off of his cigarette. "After you, sweetheart."

writing this gave me the worst thoughts ever. what if shy!reader is a virgin? someone needs to sedate me at this point. hope y'all enjoyed more of our boy :3

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #mafia!ghost #mafia!simon #mafia!141 #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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shnarky-blogs · 13 days

Text

𝙿𝚘𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚜𝚝-

ᵗᵒᵗˢᵘᵐᵒᵗᵒ ʸᵘᵘˢʰⁱ ˣ (ᵍʰᵒˢᵗ)ᶠᵗᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚈𝚞𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 (𝚢𝚘𝚞) 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎.

ᵃˡᵗᵉʳⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵘⁿⁱ��ᵉʳˢᵉ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉˢ ˡᵃᵈʸ ᵏ.

(based on the story but in my own twist)

"Hey there cutie"

Yuushi spoke out cupping your cold face to pull you into a kiss, his boldness shocked you yes, but does he even fear you?..

He pulled back smirking to himself, blush was clearly visible on your face despite it being covered by your messy tangled hair.

Suddenly you bit him on the face having you time to go back in the darkness to once where you came, this saddens him alot- though he should've just think of a plan before pouncing on you like that, he thinks he made you made.

Sighing to himself, Yuushi got back to the spot on the ground and sat down to smoke.

"I shouldve made a plan.. damn me"

Now he's stuck with a raging boner in his pants, he couldn't help but groan in annoyance.

Yuushi decided to sleep in the closet in hopes of you appearing again before him, so he pretended to sleep in.

Later around 12, you peeked out from hiding to in hopes of scaring him again so he could finally leave you alone, you crawled towards him then hands gripped you waist tightly, the warm skin touching yours made you jump in surprise.

"Gotcha.."

Yuushi whispered to you against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"You don't talk much huh?"

He spoke to himself.

You jumped on him trying to bite his face again to escape but this time he was ready and jerk back quickly before you could even hurt him.

He gave you a smug grin as if to mock you.

"You love biting, don't you?.."

Then his lips crash against yours, kissing you deeply, his fingers gripping on your hair so you wouldn't get away, he got excited from just kissing you again,, his boner already bulging through his pants as his tongue explored your mouth.

Then pulled back noticing how needy you just got from that french kiss, tears already swell up in your eyes as you looked up at him with embarrassment.

"You look so cute~"

He smirked playfully, cupping your face as his thumb caressed you puffy cheeks.

Later on,, he has you down beneath him on his futon- his fingers already playing with your soaked pussy.

"Atta boy, be good to me alright?"

He praised as he pleasures you, your thighs already trembling as his fingers played with your clitoris.

He then pulled his cock out then slide it between your folds to lube it up with your own slick.

"So wet for me pretty boy~"

Smiling lovingly at your form, despite his perverted thoughts towards the man he had legs soread out for him, he actually also wanted to.. take care of him..

He was just so cute, Yuushi thought while pressing his cock against your boy pussy, slick already made his cock glisten.

He was so ready on taking the boy.

Then, his tip slowly drove into your oddly warm depths.. he felt you tighten up around his cock as he slid in.

While going in, his thumb presses against the little nub on your pussy causing you to whimper.

"Ahh.. my little boy seems sensitive when i touch him there."

He smiled at the boy, under him.

He made sure that your legs doesn't close up so he could delve in better.

Once his whole length is inside he was awfully amaze at how great you felt, your boy pussy feels like a virgins and he thought he would just cum immediately after just being inside.

He made you get used to his size first before thrusting slowly.

"Do you feel me?.. do you feel my tip kissing your cervix, pretty boy?"

He grin softly as his pace began to pick up, his hands grope your waist so he could make sure that he isn't just dreaming about this.

Your little whines only fueled his lust even more, his face nuzzled deep into your neck, nibbling unto your skin as he clearly marked you as his.

"That's it my sweet boy.. moan for me.. make your lovely noises louder"

He grunted out as he thrust into you faster, his tip hitting those blinding spots causing your vision to blur out slightly.

He was sweating heavily untop of you, He was so glad to have you in his arms.

All he could think about is the boy's pussy just clenching down on his cock, he just wanna breed you full of his kids! (Only if thats possible).

He wants to fill you up so badly that your leaking with his seed, his thrust became sloppy and hips twitching foreward.

"Im gonna cum.. C-can i cum inside of you? I wanna cum inside you please pretty boy.. F-fuck.. i.. i wanna impregnate you!"

He grunted out before cumming into your boy pussy, his tip kissing your cervix deeply.

Both your fluids mixing as he pumped you full of his warm seed.

Tears leaked down your eyes as you stared up to him through you messy bangs.

Yuushi stood still, trying to take some breath before holding you close with his cock plugged up inside you making sure no cum goes to waste.

"Fuck.. you were such a good boy for me"

He panted out before kissing you deeply full of affection and love, this made your heart swell up with love for him.

So for now on you gladly let him stay so he could fuck your boy pussy whenever he likes♡

#bottom male reader #ftm reader #male x ftm reader #sub male reader #x bottom male reader #x ftm reader #lady k and the sick man #totsumoto yuushi x male reader #yuushi x male reader #male reader smut #x male reader

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xiao-come-home · 14 days

Note

Here me out on this:

Boothill with his s/o who has stuck by his side all this time from back when he was still human, to his early days of being a cyborg (those days were the darkest but they were his shining light) till now. His s/o who has been so patient and understanding with him, reassuring Boothill that they love him no matter what he thinks of himself (he definitely hides how insecure he is deep down). With all that in mind, this makes Boothill go “Yeah figure I might as well propose to them” because his s/o is the only person he’d ever want to spend the rest of his life with. <333

-Sugarcube anon

OW SUGARCUBE ANON IT HURT SO BAD BUT ALSO HURT SO GOOD 😭

Honestly the realization that you've been with him through all of this would hit him on a completely random day, seeing you do something absolutely normal and mundane. Boothill is just sitting there, watching you cook or sew clothes you've meant to for a while, and then... It clicks.

Oh the innocent days back then, when it was all the same, except.. for when he looked down, and saw some scars, cuts or actually seeing his chest rise and fall when he took and released his breath; when that pesky hands of yours tickled him relentlessly, making him unable to hold the laughter that echoed through the room. When he still could feel his own voice vibrate in the depths of his throat.

Even when Boothill opened his eyes and noticed the new weight of his body, the buzzing sounds whenever he stretched his hard, metal fingers for the first time—

You remained by his side.

You remained through his first baby steps, that no longer bore the resemblance of a human. You still kissed him goodnight and wanted him to embrace you from behind, even though the weight of his new arm felt slightly jarring on your side. You still kept saying the words that he won't ever get tired of.

"I love you."

The words seemed to have left Boothill's mouth by themselves with no prior warning.

"What?" Your eyelashes flutter in surprise, stopping you in your tracks; your eyes gaze at his in confusion, encouraging him to speak further.

Boothill only stares at you back, his mouth slightly agape. There's a small glimmer in his widened eyes.

"Boothill? Are you—"

"Marry me."

#CHEFS KISS #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #boothill #boothill hsr #boothill x reader #.thirst #.sugarcube anon

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dixons-sunshine · 15 days

Text

Breathe With Me | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

Summary: With you and Daryl being in a good place, kissing coming naturally to you both and cuddling no longer awkward, it was inevitable that your make out sessions would start to heat up into something else. However, in the heat of what should've been a hot moment, Daryl's mind started to wander to it's usual self deprecating depths. Luckily, you were there to help him through it.

Genre: Kinda angsty but mainly fluff

Era: Pre outbreak.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive themes, self deprecating thoughts, hyperventilation/panic attack.

Word count: 1.2k

A/n: Another young!Daryl fic in a span of not even two days? Who would've thought it was possible? It's mainly because I've been enjoying writing for young!Daryl recently, and I'd be happy to get any requests for this au. Also, I've never personally experienced a panic attack myself and this is all based off of what Google told me, so if any of it is inaccurate, please let me know so I can fix it. Other than that, I hope you enjoy!

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

“Oh, fuck.”

“Shit, girl. Yer gon' be the death of me.”

You giggled against his lips, allowing him to push you down onto the bed. He followed soon after, moving to hover over you before reattaching his lips to yours hungrily. He used one of his hands to hold his weight up, the other one wandering over your exposed stomach. Your shirt was already disposed of and long forgotten, leaving you clad in only your shorts and bra.

To your surprise, when your hands wandered under Daryl's shirt, he only hesitated for a quick moment before withdrawing from the kiss and tugging his shirt over his head. Old and new scars were on display for you, leaving Daryl completely vulnerable under your gaze.

You smiled at him and pulled him down for another kiss, a silent way of thanking him for trusting you. It wasn't the first time that you had seen his scars—you had helped him with his wounds too many times too count, leaving you familiar with all of his scars—but you always tried to make sure that he knew you didn't judge him. You loved every part of him, scars and all.

You gasped against his lips when he let his hand trail down, his fingers lightly tracing over your clothed cunt. His tongue entered your mouth and he groaned at the taste. He pulled back momentarily to look at you, his pupils blown with lust.

“Fuck, yer so perfect,” he whispered, leaning down to leave a trail of kisses from your jaw to your neck.

You moaned when he kissed a particularly sensitive spot, leaning your head back to grant him better access. Your mind was starting to get cloudy, the only thought on your mind being how good Daryl was making you feel. Admittedly, you were also nervous, since this would be your first time doing something like this, but you trusted Daryl. He wouldn't ever hurt you.

In an unexpected move, you managed to roll you both over. Daryl's eyes slightly widened in wonder, before smiling and leaning up for another kiss. His hands settled on your waist, allowing you to take the reigns for the moment.

Daryl was thoroughly enjoying himself. However, when he felt you subconsciously grind your hips against his, his mind zoomed in and focused on one thing—you would regret this. You would regret giving your first time to someone like him. He would be terrible at this and you'd finally kick him to the curb after figuring it out. He didn't deserve to have you in this way, in your most vulnerable state.

You would regret him.

Daryl's breathing started becoming erratic. Although you could've easily misinterpreted it as him simply getting more turned on, something told you it wasn't that. You pulled back from the kiss and looked at him, noticing the slightly pained expression on his face. His breathing was quick and choked off, and he seemed to be in some sort of daze. You instantly knew something was wrong.

“Daryl, hey, look at me,” you whispered, cupping his cheek and gently urging him to look at you. When his blue eyes met yours, you could very clearly see the panic in them.

Instantly, all previous lustful thoughts left your mind, concern for your boyfriend taking root in their place. You knew exactly what was happening; Daryl was busy having a panic attack. You helped him into a sitting position, still straddling his lap. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest right above your heart, hoping to divert his attention away from whatever negative thoughts were plaguing his mind.

Still looking deeply into his eyes, you gently caressed his cheek with the hand that wasn't holding his over your heart. “Try to breathe with me, okay?” you whispered, starting to breathe in a controlled rhythm.

Daryl nodded and began to copy your breathing, his sounding more choked up than yours. He tightened his grip on your waist with his hand that was still resting there, desperately trying to ground himself back to reality. It took a while, with you soothingly rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone and breathing with him in a controlled rhythm, but soon he was calming down.

Daryl felt ashamed of himself. There the two of you were, half naked and sharing what should've been a blissful, enjoyable experience, and he let himself get into his own head. He let his own insecurities get in the way. He should've just sucked it up, but instead he just had to ruin the moment.

“M'sorry,” he muttered, looking down to avoid what he thought would've been a disappointed stare.

You frowned slightly and gently grabbed his face with both hands, urging him to look at you. “Hey, it's okay,” you assured him. When he shook his head in denial, your grip became more firm. “It is okay. Don't blame yourself for something that was out of your control, alright? Do you wanna talk about it?”

Daryl hesitated for a moment, but nodded slowly. “I jus' got into my own head. I was nervous and convinced myself ya would regret givin' yer virginity to me. Started feelin' overwhelmed. M'sorry.”

You pressed a kiss against his forehead, giving him a reassuring smile. “Don't be sorry. I get it. I was nervous too, you know? But I wouldn't have regretted anything. I trust you. There's no one I'd rather do this with. But it's okay if that doesn't happen right now. I'm ready whenever you are.”

Daryl gave you a small smile before leaning forward to rest his forehead against your shoulder. “M'still sorry. I was lookin' forward to this.”

“Me too, but it can wait. Let's get you taken care of, okay? And I don't wanna hear any buts, mister.”

Daryl nodded. “Alrigh',” he agreed, but made no effort to lift you off his lap. Instead, he pulled you closer to him, hugging you tightly. “Thank you fer understandin'.”

“Of course.”

There was a lot of things going through Daryl's mind at that moment. Despite your reassuring words, he still felt awful for what happened, his mind continuing to shame him. However, with your hands now gently threading through his hair to bring him some comfort, not giving a damn that you were still half naked and straddling him, he forced his mind to shut up.

And in that moment, it was confirmed in his mind—Daryl Dixon knew that he was never letting you go.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #young!daryl dixon #young daryl dixon #young!daryl #shopping spree hangout dreams #the walking dead #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

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summerssover · 19 days

Text

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 ⊹ ִֶָ ❲ 𝘴𝘶𝘣!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭❳

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘, in which matt and chris tag along with you and nick to go shopping but matt can’t take his eyes off you.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, sub!matt x dom!reader, matt x bfb!reader, matt x poc!reader

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒, SMUT! suggestive content, language, fingering, backwards cowgirl, overstimulating, drinking in car, no drinking and driving

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓, 2.4K

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙨!

y’all this was a good ass smut day. i tried to get part 2 out the same day but at least yall got it.

we got a lot of new friends HEY BABES WELCOMEEEE promise you can talk to me whenever about whatever my inbox is always open

ENJOYYYY

▐ ❝ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐘 ❞

˚𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

“and you, you sneaky bitch, you could’ve just told me you liked him, i would’ve gladly gotten you guys together but no”

you, matt, and nick were getting into the car, finally able to leave the house after countless screaming and shouting. chris turned to you and nick with a confused look on his face, “the fuck his he yapping about now?”

“oh i’ll tell you what i’m ‘yapping about”

you cut nick off before he could go on another tangent and pusho him in the car by his head. “get your big ass in the car nick, since you want to be father fucking time”

chris and matt laughed as you and nick continued to bicker in the backseat, although chris was still unbelievably confused. “okay, whatever y’all talking about”, he turned to matt, “and why are you so quiet?”

neither you or matt said anything, already being embarrassed enough by nick bringing it up every fucking second you breathed. nick started to laugh obnoxiously at your current expressions. “ha, look at the look on their faces, this is killing me” nick pushes you back and leans over the center arm rest. “you know how i was searching the deepest depths of the fucking earth for this bitch, yea she was in your brothers room the whole time being grown”

“ho, i am grown” you thumped nick’s forehead causing him to dramatically jerk his body towards you and point his finger in your face “you’re on thin fucking ice”

“we can fight if that’s what want”

chris’ jaw dropped and his brows raised high up. he’d been helping matt also gain the confidence to make a move on you, he didn’t expect him to go to the extreme so quickly though. chris was genuinely impressed and shocked at the same time. “matt, no shot you clapped that, let’s fucking go, no disrespect y/n/n” chris playfully punched his brothers chest then ruffled his hair. you could see matt’s shy grin from the rearview mirror, he looked so cute all flustered.

shaking his head matt pulled out of the drive way and made his way down the road. chris was in charge of aux, he always played the best pregame music. nick continued to rant about different topics and still managed to slip a few jokes in about you and matt.

“so i go to look at his profile, like what if he’s cute i could use a sugar daddy, whyy do i see him, his wife, like five kids, and the family dog as his recent post, mother fuckers have no shame these days, kinda like you and matt”

you pull out three mini bottles of tequila and hand one to chris then nick. “that’s fucking wild, drink up baby”

you quickly downed the shot, trying your best to not let the liquor hit your tongue then chugged some sprite for the chaser. your scrunching up your face in disgust, still getting the bitter taste in your mouth.

matt found himself staring at you in the mirror like earlier looking so happy, so beautiful. the street lights reflected off of your face making you glow and the wind from all the windows being down blew your hair in each direction, he still really wanted to fuck you. your body started to loosen and you began to float on a cloud of warmth. the colors around you seemed so vibrant and laugher came easier than it already was with the triplets.

you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or if it really was nicks excruciating shriek but you were almost sure your heart just stopped.

“y/n are you trying to fucking poison me now?” you looked at him with so much fright and confusion, not knowing at all what was going on.

“what is your problem?”

“your tried to kill me” he pointed to the empty bottle on the floor while chris and matt absolutely lost their shit in the front seat.

“what the fuck did you think it was babe” you couldn’t conceal your laughter anymore. you got one of the drinks from the cup holders and gave it to nick who was definitely on one tonight.

“i would like to know what it is i’m drinking before you say drink up, i’m not good under pressure, i just downed that whole thing with no time to brace myself”

“chill the fuck out kid, how do you expect anyone to drive like this” matt chuckled at his brother and shook his head again. he tried his best to focus on the road but his eyes just gravitated to you he felt like he was weirding you out.

soon you and the boys arrive at tara’s house, the function already two hours deep. it wasn’t anything too extreme or matt wouldn’t even be here right now. it was a small get together with a few mutual friends. you and the triplets being pretty good friends with everyone in the house, only a few new faces scattered here and there allowed matt to be comfortable enough to be himself and socialize freely. you and nick danced in the living room with tara, vereena, quen, and larry and chris smoked on kitchen counter with a few others. the whole house was a vibe and everyone was happy which was a first because you guys couldn’t seem to go out without an issue happening with someone.

matt was now sitting on the stairs with chris who’d brought the half smoked blunt from the kitchen to share with his brother. they watched you and nick giggle and dance around with your friends. the sight of you made chris curious as to what actually went down in his room earlier.

blowing out a cloud of smoke chris passed the joint to his brother before speaking again. “how’d it happen?”

matt turned to chris, “huh?”

“what, so you just asked her to fuck or..?” chris chuckled after he trailed off, waiting for matt to open up about the personal topic. he knew his brother and this type of thing was not taken lightly by him, he’d always think deeper about everything.

matt took a moment to contemplate if he wanted to tell the whole truth, yes he did take some action but you were really the one in control, he didn’t want to sound like a bitch.

“uh, she actually came to me, asking if i could help her with her clothes i guess, then it kinda just went from there” there was a pause before matt finished. “we didn’t actually fuck though”

matt could see chris’ shoulders slouch a bit causing him to look down for a second, then back up at chris. “we like, kissed for a while and i took her shirt off but that’s all, thanks not nick’s annoying ass” it felt weird coming out of his mouth and saying it to his brother made it even more uncomfortable for him.

chris took the joint from matt’s fingers as he shook his head. “shit, a wins’ a win” he took another hit, then exhaled it as he laughed, matt joining him. “she’s not weird about it? like you two are cool?”

matt glanced to the living room again hoping to find you but to his luck you weren’t in sight. he blew out the smoke that filled his lungs before explaining. “she smiled at me in the car but we haven’t really talked since we got in the house, i caught her staring at me a couple times too, she never came over though”

“what’re you making her wait for?”

“what do you mean?” matt asked, curious as to what it was that chris knew and he didn’t. chris grabbed matt’s shoulder with his free hand before explaining. “she wants you to finish what you started, so man up go get some fucking pussy” chris laughed out loud. matt looked like he was trying to solve fucking rocket science, meanwhile you were just a few meters from where they were sitting, waiting for matt to come and find you.

chris was the first to leave the steps allowing matt to be alone with his thoughts. he’s told that he’s over complicating things but it all was so confusing, maybe it was just a matt thing. getting up from the stairs matt made his way over to nick to get some guidance who directed him to the backyard.

as of now matt was closing the sliding door to tara’s house, letting the music from inside fade into background noise as he fixed his eyes on you. you sat on a swinging bench that hung under some flowers and lights. the scenery of tara’s backyard was nice, it looked like were posing for a picture or something.

you’d saw matt out the corner of your eye and immediately let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. for a moment you started to think that he was too embarrassed to speak to you and this whole thing was misunderstood. the shake of the bench brought you out of your thoughts and you were met with matt, sitting quite close.

“you found me, only took like half a hour” you chuckled out and shifted to him, placing your hand over his knee. on the inside you were panicking but you were a pro at faking it till you made it, it was how you kept yourself sane. matt felt his heart rate quicken at your touch and he nervously laughed, trying to cover up his shaky voice.

“are you we good?” matt asked off the rip, not wanting to sit in silence any longer, for fucks sake you were just all over him and now you were back to square one.

your brows rose at his bluntness, not expecting that at all. “yea, i’m fine, i was just waiting to get you alone, you looked like you were having fun, didn’t want to just pull you away”

“so your not like mad at me or anything”matt felt a smile start to creep upon his lips, no way chris’ advice worked.

“no, i actually really like you, if you couldn’t tell already from nicks loud ass mouth” you smiled up at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “your smiles’ super cute by the way”

matt felt his cheeks start to heat, making him look away not wanting you to see him all soft. you pulled his face to yours and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, then pulling away. “let’s go to the car, yeah?”

matt rapidly nodded his head and just like that you were propped up on the door, in the backseat of matt’s car with his tongue buried deep inside of your dripping wet hole. you guys were nothing but five minutes into it and you were already chasing your second orgasm.

“oh my god, matt” you moaned and whined while matt swiftly inserted two fingers inside of you, giving him time to to catch his breath.

“you look so pretty like this” matt continued to pump his long fingers at a lightning speed, making your moans high pitched and your head to fall back on the window. “i know sweetheart, your so close”

matt was more than eager to see how you reacted to dick if this was how you were taking his fingers, so desperately, and greedy for more. he could admit that he hadn’t had sex many times, giving himself a generous two bodies, you being the third and eating up every bit of what he gave you. if he wasn’t sure on what he was doing before, he definitely had that reassurance now.

matt blinked and all of a sudden your juices were gushing out of your pussy and onto the back of the driver side seat, some getting on the side of his face. matt’s dick stood straight up, fully erected creating a damp patch in his boxers from the pre cum oozing out his tip.

while you dropped the arch in your back and gathered yourself, matt took this time to sit next to you. pulling his underwear off and giving his cock a few pumps, hoping to be relieved of the aching pain in his crotch area.

“baby come sit, i need you right now” he manhandles you on his lap and bends you over the armrest then slamming a raw eight inches inside you with no warning. you let out a loud scream, almost positive that the whole neighborhood heard matt’s name and he didn’t stop there.

he rapidly slammed you up and down his cock, not being able to break the trance your body had him in. once you adjust to his length you began to bounce your ass on his dick, increasing the wet and smacking sounds.

“fuck, i’ve been thinking about this for so long” matt smacked your ass leaving a print as he whined out. “you feel so good”

he started to whimper loudly they and thrust his hips up, meeting you half way and reaching even deeper into your cervex. you started to leak, making your eyes cross, toes curl, and mouth hanging wide open as you were now verbal. cream gushed down matt’s cock then loads more came crashing after from his release.

he finally slowed down, concentrating as he fucked his kids back into you, only igniting

more fire within his body. your eyes went wide as he started to pick up the pace again.

“matt, matt, no” you could barely breathe and your vision was starting to spot. obviously matt paid no attention to your protest, throwing his head back and trusting into your fucked out body.

gaining the strength, you finally got your arm up to put your hand on his lower stomach, attempting to stop his merciless pounding. “no more, no more, no more please”

matt lifted his head to look at you then immediately pulling out at your current state. “shit, shit, shit, sorry are you okay, did i hurt you princess?”

once matt noticed your not responding, only hearing your heavy breathing. he lifted you off of his lap and on the seat beside him. he allowed you to rest on his chest while he also calmed down and whispered whatever was on his mind.

“you were amazing baby, you looked so stunning from start to finish.. i really, really like you too and i don’t want this to be a one time thing or like an occasional thing. i want to be able to be with you every single minute day” he gently rubbed your shoulder with his thumb as you snuggle in his chest, eyes still closed. “i would love that matt”

matt places a kiss on your temple before laying his head on yours. “we gotta’ clean this shit up baby, you made mess”

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩!- @worldlxvlys @ariieeesworld @muwapsturniolo @esioleren @sturn59 @junnniiieee07 @iluvmattyb @kriissy4gov @patscorner @imsosillygoofylol @sturncakez @nicksmainbitch (comment to join the club!)

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x black reader #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #nathan doe x reader #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #black writers #summersover

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borathae · 9 months

Text

↳ Index [Snippet #37 - Pierced]

“When Jungkook’s lip ring finally healed and you can’t resist each other anymore.”

Genre: Smut, married life!AU

Warnings: switch!Jungkook, switch!Reader, it goes from Dom!Kook to sub!Kook to Dom!Kook, tattooed & pierced!JK, he’s got his lip & nipples pierced, he ties his long hair together nfdnf, muscle & strength kink, lil bit of thigh riding, sex outside on a sun bed, messy oral (f.receiving), some biting, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), creampies, she rides him to an orgasm, body hair kink aye, she smothers him with her tits, nipple sucking, lotsa drool, subby boy tears, dirty talk, praise, a lil bit of degradation, he has such a lose tongue, they are very horny & needy & just wanna fuck, cuddly aftercare, they are in love!!

Wordcount: 5.4k

a/n: there is no thought behind this drabble. it’s a crime that i never wrote about his lip ring until now. enjoy besties, this was created from the depths of my pussy 🧡

You are in the little greenhouse in your garden when Jungkook comes home. Your tomato plants, which you and Jungkook have carefully raised from infant seedlings to healthy six foot plants, are finally starting to flower and you are currently making sure that no bugs or other insects nibble on them. Yes, you are very protective over your tomato plants.

After reading an article about self-sustaining living, you developed an obsession with growing as much of your food as possible. You asked Hoseok for help – given how he is already a complete expert at it – and Seokjin gave you some tips as well. Jungkook called it way too time consuming at first, but soon gave in with a fond smile. He even helped you build the greenhouse and soon after, the plant growing fever took a hold of him as well.

It was when the first of your tomato seed experiments grew a little sprout. You can still remember how Jungkook called you in the middle of your shift with the great news of “babe, you won’t believe what just happened but tomato number ten just grew a sprout.” It was a truly exciting day in your marriage.

Now come early summer and all your vegetable and fruit plants are thriving, ready to be pollinated and later carry fruit.

The glass door opens and Jungkook steps inside.

“Hey there.”

You turn, placing the sheers down on your working table.

“And?” you ask him, eyeing it.

There was something else new in your relationship. It was on Jungkook’s body, his lower lip to be more exact. A small metal ring close to the right corner of his mouth. A lip piercing.

It was a well-thought-through decision of his’, one you completely support. Not only because it is his body and he can decorate it with whatever he wants, but also because you always had a gist that he would look amazing with a lip piercing. And you were correct. He looks so handsome with it. Truly, each day you fall more and more in love with this man.

The only downside came with the healing. No touching except for when he has to clean it. That is what the piercer told Jungkook. Which meant no kissing and truly, it left you feeling unbearably needy for him. Eight long and grueling weeks of not being able to kiss your husband. It sounds like torture and it truly was. Especially because you and he were so used to kissing all the time. Soft little morning pecks, sweet goodbye kisses, the relieved smooch of comfort after a long work day, sleepy kisses, desperate making out or the loving surprise kiss throughout the day. You and your husband love kissing. So to be unable to feel each other’s lips for eight long weeks felt like torture. You tried to kiss him one time, but that ended in Jungkook yelping up in pain and bleeding a little. You apologised a million times with tears in your eyes whilst he assured you that it wasn’t your fault and after that, you never tried to kiss again.

Today however, you hope that he comes bearing good news.

“And? What did he say? Has it healed?”

Jungkook steps closer, but stays silent.

“Talk to me, I can’t take the silence” you whine, shrugging off your gloves.

He takes another step.

“Come on, tell me. I wanna know”, you stress, stomping your foot. Truth was, you have been sitting on needles the entire day, wishing for his quick return. All you did today was take care of your garden and think of Jungkook’s kiss. If he doesn’t answer you soon – or take your face to kiss you stupid – you will burst. You can’t bear the longing anymore.

“Kookie, please tell me”, you plead, staring at his lips.

Jungkook breaks the last of the distance between the two of you, cups your face in his hands and kisses you deeply.

Your knees buckle, a moan slips past your lips. Everything that was wrong is right again. The world finally starts turning and colour returns to your universe. You are kissing your husband! You tilt your body back as Jungkook presses himself into you, your arms hook behind his head. Holy fuck. Yes.

You grab a bundle of his long hair, twisting it to the point where Jungkook moans into your mouth. Or perhaps he is moaning because all he has been craving was your kiss. Driving home from the piercer with news of finally having healed sitting heavily on his heart was torture. All he wanted to be was to be home with you and have you in his arms. Eight weeks without your kiss and Jungkook had reached his breaking point. If he had to live without your kiss for even one second longer, he would have actually combusted.

Jungkook breaks the kiss, breathing just as heavily as you. He didn’t want to break it, but air was sparse in his lungs. Fuck, if he could live on only your kiss, he would. But alas, he has to breathe, running his hands over your face as if it was the first time he ever touches you.

“I missed you”, he whispers, “I missed you so fucking much.”

“Me too, Kook. More, kiss me please.”

Jungkook obeys gladly, kissing you so deeply that nothing could separate the two of you. His strong arm slings around your waist, pressing you into his body. His long fingers close around you, reminding you why it is so nice to be touched by him. He does it with so much tenderness, but also with just enough strength to let you know that he was there. That you were his' and that he intends on never letting you go.

You run your hand down his torso until you can touch his waist. He shivers and pushes you until the back of your legs hit the edge of the work table. Like this, he can cage you in and keep you right there with him. Not that he needs to do anything for that. You want to be with him. This is all you crave.

You gasp for air again. Your faces are barely apart. His cock is hard. Well, not completely but still swollen enough that you can feel it poke your tummy. You grind yourself against it, feasting on the desperate whimper he lets out. You are so turned on yourself. Your desperation is soaking your panties. His kiss and loving touch does that to you.

“Fuck”, he chuckles breathily, “you’re messing with me.”

“I can feel it”, you sigh, “I’m so wet too.”

“It’s been too long.”

“Kook, just fucking take me.”

“Jump.”

You follow instantly. Jungkook catches you safely, tensing his muscles just for you. You fucking love to be in his arms and feel him tense. It gets you so fucking wet. Moaning his name, you cup his face and pull him into a kiss.

The walk back to the house gets difficult, but Jungkook wouldn’t want it any other way. These few seconds without your kiss where you talked felt like torture. He needs your faces to literally melt with each other. He missed you so goddamn much.

Jungkook manages as far as the terrace and then he has to drop you. Not because you grew too heavy for him, but because he needed you so bad that it got impossible to walk. So he sets you down gently, massaging your hips. He breaks the kiss, holding your hips to grind you against him. He makes sure to lift his leg so your pussy was grinding on his thigh. You whimper because of it, looking up at him with glassy, droopy eyes.

“Koo…”

“I need you to lie down, baby”, he rasps, “I fucking can’t wait any longer.”

“The sun bed?”

“Yeah, please. If you want.”

“I want to. You?”

“Baby, I’ve been thinking about you the whole drive home ‘course I fucking want you”, he says and pushes his thigh against your pussy, making you moan, “please. Please lie down for me.”

“You’re so hot, fuck”, you say and step back. You waste no time getting naked. You would have to fumble with your clothes later either way. It’s better to get it over with now and safe yourself the trouble.

“Fuck, sweetheart”, Jungkook moans, watching you with heavy eyes. He tongues his lip ring, driving you mad with it.

You step out of your sundress and panties and finally lie down on the sun bed. You give him a sensual writhe, looking up at him with big, pleading eyes.

“And now?” you ask him.

Jungkook takes off his shirt and shorts. He knows that he won’t be needing them anymore. His cock is completely hard, slapping against his toned stomach and leaking the prettiest droplets of excitement.

“So pretty”, you whine, “Koo, I want you.”

Jungkook takes his heavy cock and jerks it twice, “you can”, he lulls, falling to his knees in front of you. He grabs you by your ankles and tugs you to the edge even if that makes you squeak and later giggle.

“This was so much fun”, you squeal.

He chuckles, eyes glued to your glistening pussy and hands running along your inner thighs, “you’re so cute”, he says and pushes gently, nudging your legs open so he can lower himself to your pussy.

“Oh?” you squeak, tensing up, “o-oh”, you relax in a shudder, arching your back seconds later, “holy fuck.”

Jungkook growls against you, gripping your waist to give it a needy squeeze.

“I missed you”, he moans, “holy fuck, you’re heaven”, he adds and buries his face back in your leaking cunt. He doesn’t think about cleanliness right now. He is messy and sloppy and fucking dirty in the way he eats your pussy and he wouldn’t want it any other way. He can finally have you again, taste you, feel you, experience you and make you moan so fucking sweetly. Eight long weeks without your taste. Jungkook never wants to experience such agonies again. He felt like an addict denied of his favourite drug. And now he needs to be covered in you. It is all he needs.

“Slow please”, you beg with trembling thighs, “Koo, you’re too fast oh god.”

Eight long weeks without feeling his tongue. Bear in mind, you weren’t abstinent from each other. You still touched each other, made the other cum and found yourselves lost in deep rolls of your hips. It never felt truly fulfilling of course because you weren’t able to kiss, but you weren’t completely abstinent from each other. So you shouldn’t be that sensitive right now. But you are. His tongue feels like paradise. A paradise which is currently making your legs shake like there is no tomorrow.

He is so sloppy in the way he eats you out. His tongue can’t seem to stay at one place for too long as greed for more of you always keeps it busy. His lips are sucking and kissing every inch of your pussy until she feels all puffy and sensitive. You can feel his lip ring whenever he closes his lips around you. Hard, thin metal, hot from his body and your pussy and incredibly maddening to experience. There is this little grinding sensation whenever he uses his lips on you. You can’t get enough of it, reaching down to twist his hair.

You mess it up the point where it hangs into his face and gets stuck between his lips and your pussy.

“Baby”, he breaks away, “stop tugging so much, you’re messing up my hair.”

“I can’t help it, you’re so good. Don’t stop, please”, you whine, tugging him closer. More of his hair falls into his face. Jungkook chuckles and with a gentle shake of his head, shakes off your hands.

“No, please”, you beg, trying and failing to reach for him.

He leans back. You look at him with a big pout. It gets washed away instantly as you watch him use his teeth to take off the black hair tie from his wrist. He keeps it tangling between them, staring at you with half-lidded eyes. His lips glisten in your juices, his lip ring is wet from your sex. He reaches behind his own head and combs his hair back. His tattooed, sculpted arms flex and tense as he works, making you whimper because all you need is him. All of him. You need him so bad.

Once he is happy with the style, he holds up the ponytail with one hand and uses the other to get the hair tie. His arms pulsate and flex as he secures it, his chest stretches in the position, his nipple piercings practically beg for your attention.

Jungkook finally finishes the ponytail, giving you a taunting smirk. He is aware how into the little show you were.

“Kook please”, you beg, opening your legs for him.

“I’m obsessed with you”, he growls and grabs your hips. He spits on your pussy only to smother himself with you a second later and slurp up the mess he just made. He uses his entire head for the movements, changing between sucking your pussy and grinding the flat of his tongue against it.

“Kook”, you mewl, reaching for his hands. You know that you can’t hold his hair anymore. He made sure of that when he tied it back. But you still need to hold something of him. He makes you shake so much that you need to hold him for encouragement. He allows you to intertwine your fingers with him, running his thumbs over your skin in a soothing manner. It almost feels like mockery, how gently he soothes you while his mouth makes you shake so uncontrollably. A mockery you enjoy to the fullest because you get to hold Jungkook’s hands and that’s the best thing ever!

“You have no idea how much I needed this”, he rasps, letting his voice vibrate against your clit, “I want you to cum like this, baby. It’s all I need.”

“Soon”, you keen, squeezing his hands.

“Mhhm, baby”, his deep voice makes your thighs shake, “you make me the happiest man.”

And with that he disappears in your warmth again, giving your hands a squeeze and growling into your pussy.

You fall apart on his tongue mere moments later. Everything felt way too good. It is all you needed to be fulfilled.

You sob his name as you climax while Jungkook licks your clit through the fire and squeezes your hands.

Seven times you convulse and tense. Seven times you lose control over your limbs. Seven times and then his tongue feels like too much.

“Break”, you beg him and Jungkook listens.

“Good girl”, he praises, kissing your clit as a reward. You are still pulsating. Jungkook wants more, but knows not to overstep.

Instead, he kisses his way up your recovering body, sucking on your nipples when he reaches them. His big hands cup your softness, massaging you gently. It feels so good to be touched this way.

“Kook”, you mewl softly, tangling your fingers in the hair he left outside. He has so much of it that it still easily hides your hand. The softness of it soothes you like nothing else. Jungkook contrasts it by giving your left nipple a soft bite. It stings, making you keen in pleasure.

He purrs, letting your sensitive bud slip from his teeth just so he can drag his lips up to your face. His lip ring tickles wherever it touches you, leaving you to writhe and whine.

“Look at me”, he says once he is eye to eye with you.

You follow instantly, cupping his cheeks because all you needed was to hold him.

“You did so well for me”, he praises, smiling softly, “but I’m not done with you.”

You whimper, arching your back.

“You made me hard and you gotta be my good girl and take care of it. Yeah?”

You nod your head vigorously.

“That’s my good girl, I knew you wouldn’t deny me”, he says and brushes his thumb over your cheek, “can I get comfy and then you ride my cock? Mhm baby? Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Koo”, you say, trembling in anticipation.

“Thank you, baby. You have no idea how happy this makes me”, he says and rewards you with a kiss.

You moan deeply, hooking your arms behind his head just to make sure he can’t escape. He tastes like your orgasm. Sweet and intense. You want to lick it off of him. He tastes so good. Holy fuck, you need this kiss to never stop.

Jungkook is halfway on the sun bed this way. With one foot he is standing on the ground, while he has the other pulled up on the sun bed, resting his knee between your legs and grinding you against his skin. You’ve got him all sticky and wet like this. Jungkook gets off on the feeling like an addict.

“Koo”, you whimper and wiggle away, “Koo, it hurts. Too sensitive.”

“Hurts?” he lessens the pressure, “I’m sorry, baby. How’s that?”

“Good. Doesn’t….Kook, please fuck me.”

“So needy”, he teases and smiles cockily, “fine, let’s switch places.”

Your places are swapped within seconds. The sun bed is big enough that it can house Jungkook and you comfortably. Your knees have enough space to rest beside his hips and you could even spread them wider if you wanted to. Soft cushioning gives you enough knee support as well. The black fabric has been warmed up by the sun, but it feels comfortable on your skin.

Jungkook falls back and yelps up.

“What’s wrong?” you gasp.

“Ponytail. Uncomfy. It’s poking my literal brain”, he says and sits up. You have to be honest, all you did was stare at his toned abs as he did. They were bulging and shifting like crazy. They still do, because Jungkook opens his ponytail with both hands, using his abs to keep himself lifted.

He is the sexiest man alive.

You reach out and run your fingers over the ridges of his abs. The scorching sun and your body made his skin burn up. The faintest layer of sweat has collected in the valleys of his abs, now sticking to your fingertips and getting spread all over his silken skin.

Jungkook watches you with hungry eyes, lifting himself just a little bit more to make his abs bulge even harder. You gulp, grinding your pussy down on his thick thigh. You are so wet, Jungkook can feel it. Adorable, he thinks, you aren’t even aware of how much you stare.

You dance your fingers down his abs until you reach his happy trail. Jungkook has never been a hairy man. He has his healthy amount of leg and arm hair, can grow out his pits and always keeps his bush well taken care of. But other than that, he has never been one particularly hairy fellow. So his happy trail is faint and you like to call it pretty, but it’s there. Even if just a little bit, it’s there and you are currently dragging your nails through it and Jungkook feels himself shiver at the sensation. You add more fingers once you reach his pubes, burying them deep in them just so you can scratch along his skin. His cock throbs because of you, leaking desperately.

Your eyes finally flit up. They are burning in fiery hunger for him. Your fingers still play with his hair, scratching him just above his cock. He smirks cockily.

“I wanna bounce on your cock till you’re begging me to stop”, you rasp and grab the base of his cock.

His smirk drops as his lips part in a gasp. Jungkook writhes because of how harshly you hold him. The pressure goes straight to his balls, keeping them from leaking any more precum for you.

“Fuck. Sweetheart”, he moans and throws the hair tie to the side. He finally drops down, gripping your thighs to the point where his fingertips dimple your flesh. His hair spreads on the cushion messily. Strands of it fall into his face.

You lift yourself and position your pussy over his cock. You give your clit a soft spank with it, sending a jolt through Jungkook’s legs.

“Ready?”

“Uh...yeah? What a ques-”

You sink down on him in one go.

Jungkook throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut.

“-fuck!”

“Mhhm Kookie baby….you’re filling me up so well”, you moan and begin bouncing on him. You don’t need to get used to him. He fits you like no other. All you need is to fuck yourself senseless on him and steal his sanity while you’re at it.

Jungkook moans loudly, his hands slip to your waist to hold it. He doesn’t guide you. He doesn’t need to because you know what you are fucking doing, but also because he has no strength in him to tell you what you should do. Once he’s on his back and got you on his cock, he is your fucking slave. If you want it fast and rough? Jungkook is happy to get wet and sensitive in your perfect cunt. If you want it slow and deep? Jungkook is more than happy to grow as big as he can and whimper your name. You want his orgasm quick? Jungkook just hopes that he can breathe between all the moaning he has to do. You want to drag it out? Fuck, he’s going to suffer but he’s not going to complain for even a second. He’s your little sexdoll and you can get yourself off as you desire.

“Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck”, he chants, feeling his brain pound behind his skull.

“You’re so big Kookie baby, I can’t get enough of you”, you moan, leaning your weight on his tummy. You know that he can take it. His abs are rock hard under your palms, convulsing each time your cunt meets the base of his cock and your ass slams down on his thighs. “it’s like you’re made for me. My pussy can’t get enough of being drilled by you, baby.”

“Don’t please”, he begs, “either fuck me or talk, don’t do both”, he whines.

“Why?” you chuckle.

“Cause together is too hot”, he mewls, rolling his head to the side and squeezing your waist, “I’m getting fucked so good”, he keens with his voice pitched in utter pleasure.

“You’re adorable”, you say, sliding your hands up his torso until you can rest them next to his head. Like this your tits bounce all into his face, “open your eyes, Kook.”

Jungkook obeys and sobs your name, reaching for your tits instantly just to press them together and bury his face in them. He sucks and licks and kisses, using way too much spit for it which makes it all the more addicting. You know that once he is done, your skin will be covered in sensitive spots where he sucked for too long and your nipples will be throbbing. Just how you like it. You arch your back to smother him even further and stick out your ass. His cock curves in this position, grinding over your favourite spots inside with each movement.

“That’s it, suck my tits. You’re such a hungry little baby”, you taunt him as you wiggle your hips on him in a skilled rhythm. The kind which makes his toes curl and forces him to make the neediest little sounds into your tits, “so good baby, you’ve got the best fucking cock.”

He is stuck on your right nipple. You know that he has no control over it. You are scrambling his brain. He can’t think. Nor move. Sucking on your nipple is an instinctive, dumb reaction to getting his cock bounced on. This isn’t something he does willingly, it’s the only way he can take what you give him. And it’s starting to hurt. Jungkook sucks with such vigour that it’s getting uncomfortable.

You tug him away with a harsh grip on his hair. His spit drips all over his lower face, his eyes open. There are tears sitting on his pretty, dark lashes. His cheeks are flushed pink, his gaze just that little bit droopy.

“I have another nipple too, you know?” you say, “use your brain to think.”

His cock throbs inside you and leaks angrily. He squeezes your waist, curling his toes.

“You’re so mean”, he presses out and arches his back.

“I am? Oh baby, I’m sorry”, you coo, “you know that I don’t mean it.”

Jungkook whimpers and opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue. You know that he is asking for your nipple. But you are in a teasing mood.

You lean down and lick his tongue before you wrap your lips around it to suck on it to the point where he moans into your mouth and scratches up your back. The sensation leaves a slight burn behind and forces you to growl into him like a needy animal.

Jungkook swears that he is going to pass out. You are messing with him way too much. He expected anything but this. Maybe he should have expected it. He is married to the nastiest, most amazing sex goddess after all.

You release his tongue with a purr, claiming his lips next. The kiss is deep and messy. Tongues dance with each other in an unidentifiable rhythm, teeth manage to clash together every so often which results in you giggling and moaning into the other and your lips can’t seem to get enough of feeling the other’s. His cock feels a million times better now that you are kissing him. You don’t feel the need to give him ruthless bounces anymore. Just deep grinding. The kind which shifts his cock inside you and always keeps it pressed to your favourite spot. Your clit grinds against his tummy this way as well. The pressure and his warmth are enough to send a constant stream of electricity through your veins.

Air is sparse in your lungs. You gotta breathe. You break the kiss. Both of you pant for air. Just ten seconds of distance. He uses the time to hold onto your shoulders, you use the time to twist his hair. His lips call you back. You kiss him, concentrating your attention on his lip ring area. Your tongue traces the metal ring, your lips kiss and suck it and you even dare to tug on it with your teeth as carefully as possible.

“Holy fuck”, his talking forces the piercing to slip from your lips.

“What’s wrong? Hurts?” you ask.

“That feels incredible”, he says.

“Mhm. Yeah?” you flick your tongue over it, “not gonna lie, kinda obsessed with it.”

“Just kiss me, mommy”, he whines and hooks his fingers behind your head.

“Did you just call me-”

“Shut up”, he interrupts you and pulls you down into the kiss. He keeps you close with his nails scratching over your scalp and his puffy lips chasing your kiss. He props his feet up on the sun bed and thrusts up into you.

You squeak, falling to your elbows this way. Your tits squish against his chest, rubbing against his nipple piercings and making him whimper. Your sweaty skins melt together. He took over, now slamming his cock into you in a deep and hasty rhythm. You convulse on top of him and break the kiss just to hide away in the crook of his neck and wail his name.

He hugs you against his chest, burying his nose in your hair.

“I love you”, he growls, “holy fuck, I love you so much.”

“I love you too”, you squeak, “Kook, Kookie, Jungkookie oh god baby.”

“I fucking love this pussy”, he grips your ass and uses the leverage to move your hips on his cock, “shit, you feel so good.”

“Oh god”, you sob, “Kook, this making me cum.”

“Yeah? Good”, he spits and moans squeakily. Despite his rough fucking and harsh grip, he moans cutely. His voice is all pitched and breathy, barely wanting to come out from how messed up you got him. The contrast is making your head pound.

“Holy fuck, I’m close”, you get out, “fuck, your cock’s so good. Fuck baby, fuck.”

“Same, fucking same”, he growls, “don’t hold back, baby. Whenever you’re ready.”

“Deeper.”

Jungkook tenses his thighs and fucks his cock as deep as he can go.

“Yes!” you wail, starting to convulse on top of him as your body prepares for the messiest high, “yes! Yes! Yes!”

“That’s it baby, take my cock. Take my fucking cock, you’re doing so good. Oh fuck, I’m gonna nut so hard”, he is rambling. He always does that when he gets too lost in you and his mind is running on nothing but you, “gonna fucking cream your sweet little pussy, god I want you so bad. Fuck baby, you drive me insane.”

“Koo, I’m cumming”, you mewl and break apart, clutching him for dear life as your veins fill with fiery ecstasy.

“Yes baby, fuck holy fuck”, Jungkook’s voice changes in pitch, he barely gets the words out, “oh fuck, you’re squeezing my cock like crazy. God, I love you. My princess, keep cumming, that’s it.”

You have to be honest, you barely take in what he says. You know that he is talking and it’s making you so wet that he barely manages to stay inside, but his words don’t really stay in your brain. You are so far gone in the blissful embrace of your orgasm. He makes you feel just way too good.

“Oh god, baby I can’t hold back anymore”, he mewls and squeezes you tightly, “___!”

His hips drop and still, his cock throbs inside you and the loudest squeaks leave him. You can feel how his hot cum shoots up your pussy and how it’s leaking out of you because you’re milking him like crazy.

Still delirious from your own orgasm, you grind on him messily and without any sort of rhythm. You just want to make him feel good and be with him for as long as possible.

Your bodies naturally slow down. You know each other so well that it is your bodies’ instinct to stop once it turns from pleasurable to uncomfortable. Messy grinds turn into barely there rocks of your hips, these turn into the occasional clench of your walls until even that stops and you are resting atop his chest while both of you are panting for air.

You don’t need to talk – hell, neither of you could – as recovering with each other is already enough to comfort you.

Once those seconds turned into minutes and Jungkook’s softened cock naturally slipped out of you, you are the one to finally break the comfortable silence.

“So that just happened.”

“Yeah”, Jungkook lets out a breathy laugh, rubbing his palm up and down your back, “fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck”, you agree, “that was amazing.”

“It was fucking incredible”, he says and laughs again.

You join him because it feels good to laugh with him. Especially after sex.

“So uhm”, you say, nudging his neck with your nose, “wanna talk about the M-bomb you just dropped?”

“Shut up”, he whines, “I had your tits in my face and you were so sexy, it slipped outta me.”

“No don’t apologise, it was hot as fuck. You just never said that before”, you say and giggle, “you’re cute, baby.”

“Mhhm, it’s ‘cause you messin’ wit’ me”, he lulls and hugs you tightly, “always makin’ me feel so good.”

“Yeah same. You make me feel so good too”, you say and lift your head just so you can finally look at his face. He looks as ruined as you feel. It’s the sexiest look on him, “I’m already obsessed with the lip ring.”

“Yeah same”, Jungkook says, licking over it, “now I gotta think of techniques to use it on you when I eat you out.”

“Mhhm that sounds like fun”, you say, tracing it with your finger, “I can’t wait to explore it with you.”

He smiles, scrunching his nose up. He is so happy when he’s with you. You feel the same. He’s the best thing in your life.

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sashi-ya · 2 months

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a valentine's mini story 𝑻𝑹𝑼𝑻𝑯 𝑺𝑬𝑹𝑼𝑴 trafalgar law x f! reader

🩰 tw: a soft sfw story. spoilers from the last anime episode (not manga). happy valentine's day! 💕 🦢 wc: 923

“I LOVE YOU; I LOVE YOU; I LOVE YOU (NAME)-YA!” “ME???”

If there is something Law has passed are different types of “illnesses”; from amber lead to being feminized against his will. Now, as if that wasn’t enough, the truth serum had been injected into his body and his lips couldn’t get sealed any longer.

Your kneels hit the ground, with widen orbs and opened mouth.

“What- what did you gave him?!” you scream, kicking and trying to be let go. Just two people have fooled you two, and now you are taken hostage by a guy of who knows how many meters tall.

The era of piracy is so full of this random -and annoying- devil fruit users that sometimes it can take you by surprise. Today, was the day a couple of unknown pirates decided to mess with you two.

“Oh, just the Truth Serum. Isn’t it amazing? This fruit came to me like a gift of the Gods!” a lady, quite peculiar, laughs loudly at her victim. Who could have said someone that powerful like Trafalgar Law could be defeated so easily?

Her filthy hand grazes Law’s forehead. He is drenched in sweat, also kneeling down. He is desperate to help you, but her unstoppable tongue can’t stop saying how much he loves you.

And that, to you -but probably not for the rest of the crew if they were there - is surprising.

“He seems to love you, mh? Such good timing for Valentines! Well, then, in order to spare her life, he will cooperate… right? You have those Poneglyph right?” that villainess says, slapping Law’s cheek.

Law feels miserable and absolutely embarrassed; not even his strong Haki can undo the spell of such stupid fruit ability. Or maybe it is also relieving to finally confess to you?

“Law, don’t- don’t worry- I’ll be fine! Don’t give her shit!” you scream, looking away. You, who are also deeply in love with him but never confessed, can’t look him in the eyes.

“No, I won’t let them touch you any longer. You are mine! I won’t let them hurt you!” he shouts, desperate. Never -and probably ever again- you will hear those words being screamed into the world like the public statement of pure romance.

You dare to cross sights with him, even if in pain as that brute is holding you like a kitten by your shirt collar up in the air. Your gazes are so intense, the world around seems to disappear for a moment. Why it has to be in this situation?

“Law! I am in l-!”

You take a big gasp of air, and when your tongue begins moving, ready to give him your own confession… something happens.

“HAYAAAAAAH!!!”

A big ball of white fur covered in bright orange suit appears to save the day; a strong kick to the back of that villain sends her flying away. Law has enough time to break himself the spell, as well as using a little rock to exchange your body for it.

It doesn’t take much more for Penguin and Shachi to give Law his beloved Kikkoku; a blade he uses to slash -but not hurt- both attackers. They both ask themselves why their heads are floating around detached from their necks, but that’s just a little taste of what it means to mess with a man like him.

Soon enough, and to your amusement, his arm surrounds your waist and quickly he runs away from “the scene”.

A coward? Not really. There was something Law needed to do, now that the truth has seen the light.

“L-Law? Are- are you ok? Stop. Stop!” you demand, asking for him to put you on your feet.

He tries to find the farthest spot; the secluded place possible. It’s enough with you listening to his “pathetic” confession -and the rest of the island too.-

When he finally puts you down, his inked hands run through all of your body. He needs to make sure you are fine. You are, indeed, more than fine… you have just realized he loves you as much as you love him.

“Scan!” he takes Kikkoku to asses your body in depth, but your hand intercepts him from doing so.

“Stop…” you sigh. Again, and as always, he is searching for every single way to avoid speaking about his feelings. “Law… it’s ok, I- I do feel the same…” you murmur, softly pushing the hilt of his katana down.

Law takes a deep breath. He can’t run away. Or he can?

The surgeon ponders the possibility of escaping from there. But wasn’t for his own body acting on behalf of his love, he might have probably done it. Luckily, his hand reaches your cheek, and his feet walk towards you.

“I love you too, Law” you repeat, looking down but still enjoying the delicate touch of his hand. A touch that migrates from cheek to your chin, lifting your head up to encounter your lips with his.

“I didn’t plan for this to go this way, (Name)-ya. I had flowers prepared for tonight… I really planned on confessing tonight; it’s just that my plans always get ruined”

“My sweat Law, when will they let you plan in peace? Did the kiss part came into the original plan?” you ask, coming even closer to his lips.

“No… I- I actually didn’t think you could-“

“My bad, it seems I am also going to ruin your plans this time. Now please, kiss me and never let me go”

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deadbeat-motel · 3 months

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ᗩᑎGEᒪ ᗪᑌᔕT ᖇEᗪEᔕIGᑎ

Me going talky-talky below the cut

I wanted to redesign this guy the most because of so many issues I have with his actual design, namely:

The suit is a travesty.... for both his background as a hypersexual porn actor and a previous mafia member. It does not read well as a good design for an Italian mobster of the 1920s. Do you really not think he would rock a pinstripe? I mean come on, those three horizontal lines on his suit look really tacky to me. You should've taken that pinstripe suit from Sir Pentious and given it to him instead. and not only that but it doesn't even read well as a porn actor who has no qualms about being sexualized and pretty much even revels in it. why does the suit basically cover him up like a conservative politician? come on, let him show off a bit more.

WHY A BOWTIE??? WHY??? A SIMPLE GOOGLE SEARCH WILL SHOW YOU THAT A NECKTIE WAS MORE IN FASHION DURING THAT TIME RATHER THAN A BOWTIE. The bowtie was something that pissed me off so much about the design.

He's not a very good spider design. the only thing about him that looks remotely spider-like is that he has those eye dots under the eyes and the many limbs.... nothing else. not the very large abdomen or the actual 4 pairs of limbs a spider is supposed to have. Not even a web pattern on him like Spiderman who embodies "spider" more than him.

YOU TOOK THE FLOOF OFF OF HIM??? THE ICONIC FLOOF???? unacceptable. In retaliation, I'm giving it back bigger than ever you coward!

Anyways, here's the thought process I went through with this design:

He needed to embody his Mafia/porn addict themes through his clothing so I went with an outfit that looks like a slutty Halloween costume of a mobster. Plus it would have also differentiated him from his family who most likely would've had a stronger Mafia vibe than he did.

Gave him a tiny little hat too because i thought it looked cute.

I remember hearing that Angel Dust's most iconic part was his head's unusual shape, so I decided to keep it on him but tweaked it a little bit with his hair covering the other half of his face. (This was for some kind of lore reason, maybe he's insecure about his heterochromia, That's where he was shot and has an X over it, or his eyes are malformed on that side, still thinking about it)

Originally was going to have matching black gloves for his arms too but then it was harder to see what was his arm or leg so I let him have nothing instead to keep the pairs of limbs separated

Gave him some hoop rings too because why not let a bad bitch have one?

I've seen necktie cat collars go around earlier and thought it would fit well for Angel Dust considering I didn't give him a shirt and that i took off his choker as well.

Aside from a MASSIVE flooff, I also gave him a massive spider "butt" with the missing pair of limbs. I decided to make it legs because honestly, It's much harder to think of how he would emote naturally with 6 arms. Plus it was interesting to think about how a 4 legged bipedal would work. Immediately my first thought went to Squidward Tentacles from both the show and the musical but then it wouldn't work because of the complexity of the legs. It's main purpose now is to both hold up the large spider "butt" and be his self-defense when being approached from behind.

Originally was going to have those big ass claw things on his mouth (I'm most likely wrong but the 'chelicerae' thing?) but thought it would clutter the design too much and because there was a big possibility that Val probably ripped them off of him when he had bitten once, if not multiple times, in self-defense.)

I'll probably talk about him more when he pops up in an episode I'm going to go in-depth about or give him his own dedicated rant about how Vivziepop treated his story.

#vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel redesign #deadbeat motel redesign #deadbeat motel rewrite

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ohwowimlonley · 3 months

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nsfw alphabet - s.b

Warnings - f!reader, pinv sex, unprotected sex, oral, nudes, kinda perv!sirius

Notes - these alphabets are gonna be way longer than my origonal ones, so they’re going to take longer to put out, but if you want one specific one first then let me know! I’m trying to get one done for every character on my list :)

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

“Here, baby,” he sits with his back to the headboard, gently coaxing you to sit up with a hand on the back of your neck, just enough so he can tip a mouthful of water past your lips. He rewards you with a kiss on the forehead, before he slips off of the mattress to retrieve his quidditch jersey from atop his trunk, urging you to hold your arms up so he can fold the fabric over your head, tugging it down until the excess material pools around your thighs.

“”Ready for bed, gorgeous girl?” he grins toothily down at you, slipping an arm around your waist and tugging you down until your head hits the pillow, clearly not expecting you to answer him at all. He settles you into your patented sleeping position; you curled up on your left side and Sirius plastered to any and all skin he can reach, chin hooked over your shoulder and lips pressed to your jaw.

B = Body Part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partners)

“Mmph, fuck me,” he throws his head back, battling against the urge to keep his eyes screwed shut, instead reaching over your body, grabbing at your ass and admiring the way it jiggles with the motion, obsessed with the way it looks stuck up in the air while your head is in between his thighs, “look so good down there baby. Gonna let me cum all over that pretty ass of yours?”

“Siri, Siri oh my-” you gasp out, trying your utmost to stifle a scream that threatens to breach past your lips, grabbing and pulling at his hair as he licks all over your sensitive cunt.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

“Siri, m’gonna cum,” you bite into his neck, struggling to keep yourself as quiet as possible, but you can’t help but whine when he pulls away from you, halting your high in its tracks. You sob out of frustration, digging your nails into his back, “no, Siri! Why?”

“You know why, princess,” he tuts, “you don’t cum first, daddy does,”

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

“Oh Siri,” you mumble breathlessly, eyes widening as you dig through his box of ‘keepsakes’ always kept under his bed. There’s all sorts of things hidden away in the depths of it; polaroids (ones you’d taken for him along with those you don’t recognise), a pair of your favourite lace panties you were beginning to think you’d lost and right at the bottom, next to a note you’d slipped to him in potions asking if he wanted a date out in the forbidden forest, is the spare key to your private dorm room. You’d lost it weeks ago, and even asked your boyfriend about it. He claimed he hadn’t seen it, even suggested some places for you to look for it. Maybe this is how he’d managed to get those mysterious polaroids of you, “Sirius Black, you dirty pervert,”

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Sirius knows how to do a lot of things. The first time you guys had sex, he surprised you by pinning you down on his plush bed sheets, anchoring your hips down with his strong biceps and eating you out like a man starved. He knows all the right spots, with no prompting whatsoever.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

“Stay,” his voice is gruff, the sound reverberating over the walls of his dormitory. His hand is right at the base of your neck between your shoulder blades, keeping your face firmly planted in his satin pillows. Your knees keep your ass up high, legs spread as far apart as you can get them while keeping balanced. The rest of your body is as low as possible, and he runs the fingers of his spare hand through your sopping folds, teasing you by never giving you any actual friction, “such a good girl for me, huh? My pretty little show off,”

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

His lips are all over you, on your own, slipping his tongue between your teeth, on your neck, sucking on the skin until it bruises, on the neckline of your shirt, tugging at it with his pearly whites. The two of you pull away at the same time, pulling your shirt desperately over your head. Your arms slip out easily, but your chin gets stuck in the tight neck hole. The two of you stop in your tracks, eyes connecting over the constricting hem of your (about to be thrown away) shirt. There’s a dead silence for a good ten seconds, before Sirius cracks up. His laughter is thunderous, shaking the whole bed with the force of it. You stare at him blankly as he starts crying from the hilarity of the situation. Somehow, through his laughter, he helps you escape your fabric prison and pets your hair to calm himself down, “sorry, love,”

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s laid out on his bed, thighs spread apart and right hand on the back of your head as you push yourself down on his length. He’s gasping out for air, hips jerking up to meet your mouth until your nose is buried in a patch of thick, curly hair. It’s not suffocating, the hair by your nose, but it’s definitely there, tickling your skin.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

“Shh, sweetness,” his lips brush the crown of your head, hands gripping yours, pushing them deeper into the mattress as he rolls his hips into yours. He’s not quite kissing you all the way, what with his breathlessness, but you can feel the subtle cracks in his lips scratching your forehead as he pushes them against you.

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

Steam billows around him in the ensuite bathroom of his shared dorm room. The boys are in the next room, and are almost definitely able to hear him through the old brick walls. He doesn’t care. He can’t get you off his mind and he’d rather the boys hear him over seeing his chubbed up cock through his pyjamas. If he could, he would send you an owl asking you over to help him out, since you always do it so much better than him, but you’re busy with prefect duties.

He squeezes his cock tighter, trying desperately to mimic the suction of your wet heat, but it’s no use, it’s nothing like the real thing. When he finally does cum, it’s weak and dissatisfying. He lets out a pathetic whimper at the feeling, promising himself to never again try and make himself cum without you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

God, he loves watching you cry. It’s one of his favourite things in the world to see; you cry out for him, pools of tears welling in your eyes as he mercilessly rubs his fingers into your sweet spot as he sucks relentlessly on your puffy clit. He just adores the angry lines the tears leave in their wake, sometimes he’ll lean up and kiss along the trail they leave, pout down at you mockingly, and ask if it’s too much for you. It just makes you sob out for him to do something, but he holds out for a little while longer, just to see how desperate you get for him.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Your moans echo all throughout the empty boys locker room, and your nails dig painfully into the worn wooden bench Sirius has you bent over. The boys are waiting for you just on the other side of the door, probably able to hear you through the flimsy door, but neither of you care much. In fact, you suspect Sirius is enjoying it; giving the boys a sample of how good you are to him, but never letting them see the full thing.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

“No, Siri, you’re doing it wrong,” you insist, leaning over his shoulder and pointing at the History of Magic textbook, then moving your finger to his messily scrawled homework, “what page are you even looking at?”

God, that ever so slightly condescending-yet-playful tone in your voice has him bending over slightly in his chair in the hopes of you not catching his growing hard on. He bites his lip to hold back a grin, and writes down yet another nonsensical note in his barely legible handwriting, in the hopes that you’ll roll your eyes at him again, tell him off again, press your tits to his shoulder and tell him what to do again, just so he has an excuse to bend you over his desk and punish you for being rude.

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Sirius is up for a hell of a lot of things, anything you want, he wants, essentially. The only thing he’ll never, ever go near is consensual non consent. He can’t stand the thought of you even pretending like you’re not enjoying what he does to you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

God, he looks so pretty like this; hair scraped back into an almost falling out ponytail, sweat beading down his exposed chest, and muscles tensing in his arms as he grips at your hair. He adores you on your knees for him, looking up at him with teary eyes as you struggle to take his whole length at once. If you let him, his absolute favourite thing to do is fuck your face, his hips stuttering every time you gag at his tip bruising the back of your throat. He always finishes in minutes when you have your mouth around him, filling your throat with his creamy spend.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He starts off rolling his hips against yours slowly, making sure to hit that sweet spot inside of you with every thrust. His head drops to your shoulder, kissing along every spot of exposed skin he can get to without adjusting his position and risk losing his rhythm. His hands are everywhere, wandering over your exposed body as his pace picks up.

As his orgasm approaches, his gentle pace quickle devolves into harsh, sloppy thrusts.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

“Shh,” he insists, slipping his free hand over your mouth so your moans are muffled. The two of you are most certainly going to be late to potions, but you don’t care so long as he keeps slamming himself into your sweet spot at this pace. A mop handle slams down onto the floor next to you, but neither of you pay it much mind, “gotta hurry up n’ cum, princess, or else you’ll have to sit at the back with Snivvelus,”

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

“C’mon, Siri! Just show me!” You whinge, lunging to grab the bag from behind his back, but he’s too quick and holds it over his head so you can’t reach it. You cross your arms over your chest and glare up at him, “arsehole,”

“Hey now,” he tuts, then slips his hand into the black plastic bag and pulls out a pair of pink fluffy handcuffs and dangles them in front of your face, “don’t go bein’ naughty, or else I’ll have to use these on you, hm?”

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

“Please,” you all but sob out, pushing weakly at his shoulder in an attempt to slow his pace down, even by just a fraction, “Siri, s’too much,”

“Be good, sweetling,” is all he responds with, smearing a kiss on the crown of your head as he carries on uninterrupted. You don’t even understand how he’s doing it. He must’ve cum at least three times by now, albeit with small breaks in between where he would delve in between your legs and eat you out ‘til you scream.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Sirius Black loves to tie you up. It doesn’t matter if it’s with handcuffs, a tie he wore to work, the belt he’d forgotten on the dreaded laundry chair, he doesn’t care. Sometimes, if he’s feeling extra mean, he’ll tether your ankles to the bedposts as well with pairs of tights he digs out from your underwear drawer, just to see you struggle to chase after his touch as he tortures you with a magic wand vibrator (he likes the irony of the name).

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

“What’s wrong, baby? You were being so loud earlier,” he grins up at you evilly, nudging his fingers deeper into your tight channel, pressing them against your sweet spot. His calloused palm scrapes against your abused clit, and you know he’s not planning on stopping any time soon. You try to respond to him, but all that comes out of your mouth is a pathetic gasping whine that makes your boyfriends chuckle, “what was that, love? Try’na tell me something?”

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

You’ve never heard your boyfriend make so much noise as when you ride him. He can’t hold back his desperate grunts as you bring your hips down to meet his. He grips onto with a bruising force when you cum around him, letting out a continuous howling moan at your pulsating tightness. The moan fades into a steady groan when you start up again, determined to make him cum. When he finally does, it’s with a high pitched sigh, exhaled right by your ear as you shush him.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

Pulling on Sirius Black’s hair is a special kind of fun. When it’s his turn to take charge and you do it, it spurs him on to fuck you harder, press his fingers into you more, scrape his teeth against your clit a little harder. When he’s playing the submissive however, pulling on his hair makes him turn to jelly. You tug on his hair when he goes down on you, and he loses his goddamn mind, all but suffocating himself in between your thighs as he muffles his high pitched whimpers against your slit.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Sirius Black does not have a massive dick. It’s actually quite regular, standing at not quite six inches, with a good girth you can grip onto between your thumb and forefinger. His tip is hooked a little upwards, which makes it just delicious to ride him, with his spongy head mashing against your g-spot.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Sirius would go all day every day if he could, but realistically, he’ll give you those eyes and pull you away into his room to have you.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

“Okay, sweetheart?” He cranes his neck down to brush his lips across your forehead, looking over to the nightstand you’d slowly invaded during your time of dating to ensure you had drained your glass of water before switching off his lamp and tucking the covers up over your almost sleeping frame with the red quilted duvet and pulls you closer to his side. It’s only when your breathing evens out and your muscles relax completely that he lets his eyes close.

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