beanis-weanis

[beanis-weanis]

*giggling, kick my feet, twirling my hair*

I need more of this post-haste

Movie Nights: He Dreamed of You

Summary: In which movie nights with Ichiban don’t really pan out well and he’s left with some…thoughts.

Words: 1622

A/N: Really was gonna make this spicier but I held back. Feels like it’s too early still for this.

Ichiban started talking to you about a movie theater that showed classic movies. You perked up when he invited you. Just the two of you.

‘Like old times.’ He said.

However, it should’ve come as no surprise that doing something as simple as going to the movies was going to be anything but that.

Your first attempt was…a doozy. A drowsy doozy. You tend to think of yourself as an open-minded person, so when Ichi told you the movie was about a man that danced but never smiled, you were fully ready to give it a shot.

But when you sat down and the movie started, Ichiban started yawning, which, of course, got you started. The two of you fighting sleep at the same time.

To be fair, it wasn’t your fault. It’s not like you could’ve helped it. There was something relaxing about lights being off, and you’ve never sat on such comfy theater seats before. It was like this place was compelling you to sleep. Before you knew it, you had fallen asleep against Ichi’s shoulders while he was struggling to keep himself up.

After a few minutes, you felt yourself being shaken awake gently. Your eyes fluttering open to see the end credits rolling on the screen.

“Welcome back to the land of the living.” Ichiban chuckled.

You glanced over to see his smiling face before straightening yourself, getting in a good stretch and a big yawn. “Did I really sleep through the whole movie?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I was having trouble keeping away myself. This place has a way of getting you in the mood for a nap.”

You sighed. “I really do feel bad, Ichi. Can we try again? This time my treat. Please? Come on.”

“Well, if you’re offering.”

The second attempt was slightly better. Only slightly. While leaving, you had caught a glimpse of a poster for one of your favorite movies. A slasher movie from the late 70s called Bloodbath St. You had gotten excited and asked Ichi if he wanted to see that the next time you came. Even though he seemed caught off guard and unsure, he agreed.

All to see you jump around like a giddy schoolgirl.

So the day came, and it’s pretty safe to say that Ichiban might not be a fan of horror movies.

“We have to get out of here!”

“But what about the others?”

The sound of a chainsaw revving up spooked Ichiban a bit before the killer brought the spinning blades on the two college kids, ripping them to pieces as blood splattered all over the screen, their screams were almost deafening.

Ichiban was tense during this whole experience. You, on the other hand, enjoyed every second of this, chewing on your Twizzler with an unsettling delighted grin on your face.

“You actually enjoy movies like this?” He asked awkwardly. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

You looked over to him and he couldn’t deny that the look of excitement in your eyes was pretty cute.

“Yeah! This movie is great!”

“It’s so…bloody.”

You nodded, “I know, right?!”

Clearly you didn’t share in Ichiban’s disturbed reaction. Every kill just got worse and worse. Your quiet giggling only adding to the haunting atmosphere.

As wrapped up in the moment you were, you weren’t completely oblivious to the fact that Ichiban wasn’t enjoying the movie.

So what was wrong with a third try?

“Maybe something lively enough to keep us up but also something…tame?”

You turned to your friend to gauge his answer. The two of you are currently looking at the collage of movie posters to find something new to watch.

“How about this?” Another voice chimed in.

The owner approached the both of you, pointing at one poster seated at the top with a very bright pink presentation. A movie called The League of Hand Holders and sure enough, the movie’s poster was just two hands…holding each other.

Ichiban tilted his head like a curious puppy. “Looks like a romance movie.”

You shrugged. “Sounds like a good happy-medium.” You looked up at him. “Wanna see it?”

“Yeah sure.”

So the third attempt was set.

DEAR GOD, IT WAS NOT A ROMANCE MOVIE.

The sheer shock and awkwardness were the main glues keeping you and Ichiban in your seats.

Ok maybe it was a romance movie but the poster and the owner fail to inform you about the porn part.

The movie started off tame with a boy meets girl scenario. Then a boy meets girl meets boy scenario. Then boy meets girl meets boy meets boy scenario and it was then that you and Ichiban caught on to what was unfolding.

“Please be gentle~”

The woman did her best meek and innocent voice as the three men loomed over her, each a different degree of naked while the woman was in bright pink lingerie.

“Don’t be scared.” One of them whispered to her as he bent down to her eye level.

Your eyes were glued to the screen, not in fascination—not completely—but more in fear of looking to see Ichiban’s face.

It’s one thing to watch this type of stuff alone or maybe with some girlfriends to joke about but it’s another thing to watch it with someone you’ve had a crush on for years.

But you just didn’t know what reaction you were scared of seeing from him. Disgust? Arousal? How about nothing? What if he was aroused and thinking of someone else? Maybe Eri? Saeko? Maybe Sumire from the workshop?

You were so lost in your own thoughts you failed to hold back the curl of your fingers against the armrests of the chair. Something that Ichiban stealthily took notice of and it made him nervous.

Obviously unaware to you, this is the last movie he’d ever imagine taking you to willingly. He can’t admit this to you but…he’s getting turned on.

What would you think if you saw how stiff he was? In two different ways? Would you think he was a pervert? Most girls would. No one would feel cool around a guy that popped a chubber on a….

‘HOLY SHIT, IS THIS A DATE?’ He suddenly thought.

Without even thinking, Ichiban turned to face you. Catching a glimpse of your strained nervous expression. Like you were on the brink of having some internal panic attack.

If it wasn’t for how you both blatantly looked over 19, your mannerisms would’ve had you two mistaken for a pair of awkward teens.

Ichiban faced forward, feeling the anxiety wash over every part of his being.

Needless to say, the walk home was…awkward. The two of you only engaging in small talk about everything BUT that movie.

When he got back to Survive, he made his way upstairs, telling the others that he was just tuckered. Zhao poked fun at him, curious about how intense the movie was. Of course, he had heard about Ichiban and the horror flick you took him to see.

When he was alone upstairs, he thought about you. Sitting on a bed in a room he’s not familiar with filled with pink lights that managed to set just the right tone. Was it your room? He didn’t know. All he could focus on was how cute you would look with a doe-eyed expression as you looked up at him. Maybe you were in a cute baby doll gown of your favorite color.

“You’ll be gentle with me…right Ichi?”

Nodding slowly was the only thing Ichiban could think of doing in that.

He’s embarrassed to admit that he has no experience. Between serving Arakawa and then going to prison, he never really had time for dating or even sex. The best was a good porno now and then. According to Adachi, that desert has become a water park nowadays.

You did though, right? You got to do most of what he missed out on. He’s been gone for 18 years, there’s no way you didn’t date or had sex. You’d probably be way more experienced than him, right? Maybe you’d be the one taking charge.

Suddenly the dream shifted, with you hovering over him, straddling his hips. Even when you had the power, you looked nervous and shy about the whole thing. Maybe it’s because Ichiban’s older? Would that matter?

“Is this ok, Ichi?” You’d say.

Again, the only thing he could do was nod. Then you’d lean down and softly place your lips on his neck. He wondered how soft your lips were. He’s never realized it til now but they do look soft.

What would you even be into? Maybe you’re into kinky stuff like whips and stuff. Was there any other type other than that?

Then there was a realization.

What if you didn’t even like men and the movie was only awkward for you because you weren’t into that? That’s possible, right? Maybe he shouldn’t be fantasizing about you like this then.

He wished I could’ve written him to be more mature than that and simply clock out for the night but the image of you in his head tempted him back to this fantasy room. Each vision of you is different from the last, all saying things that tempted him to keep dreaming of what a night with you would possibly entail.

“Tell me if you wanna slow down, ok Ichi?”

“Not so rough, ok?”

“Ichi, that tickles~”

If he didn’t have a boner before, he definitely had one now. Ichiban still found himself being embarrassed about this whole thing. The man was in his 40s and he’s acting like those same horny teens from way back.

As much as he wanted to contemplate how you’d react, he had something to take care of.

[beanis-weanis]

When god really hates me, he just makes me disgustingly horny right before i have to leave for work.

[beanis-weanis]

My moral compass slipping as soon as I see an incredibly toxic milf.

[beanis-weanis]

im like if someone who had a fetish for being helpless was also a control freak

[beanis-weanis]

this is my gender

[beanis-weanis]

౨ৎA Night in Valentine౨ৎ

✰ Arthur Morgan x fem!reader ✰

cw 𖦹 suggestive scenes, light body worship

summary 𖦹 You catch Arthur being self deprecating, and are determined to show him he’s wrong

a/n 𖦹 inspired by Arthur being mean to himself in the mirror </3

!18+!

The wooden hallways of the Saints Hotel creaked as you made your way back to your shared room with Arthur, only made possible by you two breaking your small cot after one particularly passionate night. He paid for a hotel room in Valentine only for the purpose of spending the night with you. The idea of sleeping in a bigger bed inside a private, warm room with you in his arms made it easy to convince him to dish out the money. Only for one night of course, you couldn’t convince him to do longer. The two of you took advantage of your one night of complete seclusion, and after you ended up a bit messy, you took advantage of the hotel’s amenities and had a hot bath.

As you rounded the corner and headed to your room, Arthur’s familiar voice carrying into the corridor made you pause. You could just barely make out him saying, “You ugly bastard.” The door was ajar and you pushed it open, dropping the blanket you draped over your nightgown to preserve your decency in the lobby. To your surprise, Arthur was facing the mirror, blue eyes locked on you. He was talking to himself in the mirror.

“Did you really just call yourself an ugly bastard?” You questioned. As Arthur stepped away from the mirror you noticed he was still just in his shirt and underwear.

“I was doin’ that in private. And I’m just sayin’ the truth.” He shrugged nonchalantly. You sat next to him on the bed, grabbing his hand.

“Hey! I don’t want to hear you call my Arthur that, you hear me?” He chuckled at that, while you grabbed his face to force him to look at you. “You are the most handsome man in every way, let me prove it.” Putting your palm on his chest, you lowered him down until he laid on the messy bed, planting kisses on his stubbled face.

“I ain’t complainin’ if this is how you’ll prove it.” He quipped, a hand placed firmly on your waist as you incessantly kissed all over his face, moving down to his neck where your kisses got a bit more heated, and your tongue ran along his skin.

“From your stunning eyes, to your soft hair and all the rest of it… you Arthur Morgan are just dreamy.” You made quick eye contact as you spoke before moving down again, kissing along his broad shoulders and arms. Arthur watched as you straddled him to kiss his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as you did. His head tilted back, a soft grunt forced out of him as you began to kiss his torso, leaving his chest and stomach hair slick. His hand shot out to grip your arm as you kissed along his happy trail, your tongue running over him occasionally.

“Goddamnit..” His breathing grew heavier, and all at once you were aware of how he was still damp with sweat and your saliva, the bedsheets sticking to his skin. The smell of musk and sweat filled your senses, Arthur’s scent always made your mind foggy. Your kisses, becoming deeper and sloppier met his hips now, the fabric of his underwear straining against his hardening cock. You stretched your arms out, running your hands along his body, desperate to feel every inch of skin. There was nothing on your mind at the moment except giving Arthur pleasure, and showing him just how wrong he was.

“I love you, and every part of you,” You looked up, momentarily appreciating the sight of Arthur, his face flushed and chest heaving as he stared down at you with half closed eyes. Continuing to pepper kisses over his skin, you slid yourself down until your lips were were making contact with his warm thighs. “And I’ll kiss every inch of your body until you know it.” As you continued to devote your attention to Arthur, you didn’t notice him move until his large hands were placed on top of yours. Before you could continue smooching every inch of him, he yanked you forward, pulling you up until you laid on top of him. You could feel his heartbeat under you, strong and fast.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” He asked, a smirk on his lips, one hand cradling your cheek and the other wandering down your back, until he cupped your ass. Involuntarily, you pressed yourself against him, the feeling of his arousal against your thigh causing a rush of desire.

“The feeling is mutual.” Tilting your head, you kissed the fingers holding your face, gently sucking on one. Arthur took in a sharp breath, clearly at his limit and ready for round two. In one fast movement, Arthur had you flipped onto your back, and he straddled you, gripping the headboard as he towered over you. You were shocked he had lasted that long without touching you, just observing and enjoying the sensations. Enjoying your attentiveness, his body being adored by the one who knew it best.

“Now, darlin’ I do believe it’s your turn.”

[beanis-weanis]

Programming update

[beanis-weanis]

ꗃ snowed in | arthur morgan ⭐️

summary: arthur finds you out all alone without your horse in the middle of the grizzlies during a bad snow storm.

contents: nsfw! arthur morgan x fem reader, good honor arthur, pre tb, both of them are the definition of touch starved, penetration, reader squ**ts?? hell yeah.

words: 3.5k (?) i have no clue

—

Up in Mount Hagen west of the grizzlies, the fire was going while he set the tent up. It hadn’t snowed in days thankfully. Arthur could tell it would in the morning just by how the temperature dropped severely throughout the night.

“You’re alright..”

His beloved horse Boadicea, shook off the chill in the air and neighed. Arthur got some sleep as best as he could, deciding to wait till dawn to set off.

—

Tracking a bounty all the way up here might not have been the smartest idea. Some lowlife criminal with a fine price on his head, wanted dead or alive. Arthur hoped he would stumble upon the man frozen while out riding. Instead he was met with endless amounts of snow ahead of him.

He couldn’t even get a cup of decent coffee going, day was already off to a bad start. It was now around eleven a.m based off the pocket watch he kept in his satchel. Boadicea kept trekking as best as she could.

Arthur loved to get away from camp whenever he could. None of Dutch’s nonsense, no Micah, no nothing. Only now he wished he could turn around and see greenery and meadows instead of pure white.

Boadicea snorted, the snow seemed to be falling heavier. Arthur couldn’t see ahead of him and it seemed like a blizzard was approaching.

“Just a little more girl cmon..”

The wind roared far out as they continued. The path below them was still visible. Yet, deep in the grizzlies now it was no use going back. He fed Boadicea a carrot hoping her stamina would improve.

Best to keep going, he thought. No way I’m gon make it out of the range till it calms down.

With the storm calming down a bit, Arthur took note of his surroundings. Near the now frozen lake, lake isabella. The trail that adorned the body of water had footprints that looked fresh. Footprints that belonged to someone smaller than Him. His suspicions were about to be confirmed.

He heard sniffing and shuffling up ahead. Rounding the corner he laid eyes on you. On tbe ground picking up the contents that were on e in your basket. Your outwear covered in snow. The basket you were carrying blown across from you, and your crops on the ground.

“Er, you alright there?” He asked cautiously.

You turned around frazzled.

“Who’s there?”

Arthur threw his hands up in defense coming into view, not wanting to scare you.

“Woah there it’s okay ma’am I don’t mean you no harm.”

You nodded. He seemed harmless, you were hoping he kept his word.

“Well it makes no difference now…if the snow doesn’t let up, nothing will grow for the rest of the month.”

“If an outlaw or wild animal doesn’t get me then starvation will.” You continued defeated.

He watched you dust off the snow from your shoulders. Noticing you didn’t have a horse.

“You walked out here all alone?”

Shaking your head yes, you explained to him that you left your horse home knowing how harsh the weather would be.

“She’s too old to be out here in weather like this…thought I could make it before it got real bad.”

Arthur thought that was a stupid idea, you could tell from his face. He felt sorry for you.

“Is your home nearby? I could take you there.” He pointed to Boadicea.

You eyed him wearily. A handsome stranger in the middle of a snowstorm offering to take you home? Too good to be true. He had to be trouble, but something about him seemed honest. His blue green eyes sparkling in contrast to the white all around you two.

“Yes..just a couple of miles. Near the frozen waterfall.”

You watched the gears turn in his head. He was glad he found you before you had froze to death.

“Well, ill erm,” He gathered up his supplies making sure Boadicea was ready to go. Offering a stretched out arm to you.

“Cmon, I gotcha.”

On the way to your tiny cabin of a house you attempted to make small talk. It was a ways to go, a few more turns down the trail.

“So, why’re you out here?” You asked, hands on his lower back hanging on.

“Bounty huntin.”

You took a mental note of that. If he had any plans of robbing you once you got home you were done for. Yet you found humor in this predicament.

“Sure I can trust you?” You chuckled.

“Not a bounty are you?” He rebutted.

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you, halfway through the ride.

“Your horse is beautiful..reminds me of mine when she was younger.”

Arthur smiled, you couldn’t see though.

“My pride and joy. Don’t know what i’d do without her, how long have you had yours?” He asked.

Looking back on the time you first got her it seemed like a lifetime ago. Your Dad made one of his wishes come true before he died, bringing her home from an auction. She was just a foal when you were twelve.

Now twenty eight, Olive got sick last year. You vowed to take care of her as best as you could. Even if that meant coming out in a snowstorm as bad as this one in search of herbs for her.

“Sixteen years and counting I hope.” You said.

“She’ll pull through, long as she’s got ya.” Arthur meant that. You sounded sincere, he respected that.

“I’m right here.” You pointed to the brown wooden cabin hidden by flower bushes. Your house was in front of the waterfall you mentioned earlier.

Arthur got off Boadicea first to help you get down. He rounded the corner to help you. The steadiness of his grip, the way his other hand comes to your waist when your legs wobble slightly upon landing, had you besotted. You were grateful for his touch, even if it burned.

A bone chilling wind came through ruining your moment, almost blowing you away. You stumbled a bit, Arthur grabbed your wrist before you could fall.

“Careful there.” He said smirking under his hat.

“Thanks.”

Gathering yourself, you wondered where he’d be off to now. One side of your brain saying to invite him in, the other saying give him a couple of dollars and send him on his way.

You hadn’t had company in god knows how long. Living out here in the mountains wasn’t for the weak, you considered yourself strong. Especially after your parents passing. It’d be nice to hear someone else’s voice for a while over some tea and bread.

“Hey um, wanna come in for a bit? Just till the snow-”

“Oh ma’am it’s alright you don’t-”

“No no I insist, I only have a few dollars, it’s the least I could do to make up for it.”

“Unless you have somewhere to be.” You added.

Arthur hesitated. He didn’t have anywhere to be. He was probably gonna go back to camp once the storm was over, the last place he’d want to be these days.

“Well, as soon as it stops i’ll be out your hair.”

“Come on in.”

—

Arthur sat at your small dining table taking in your home. Kitchen full of spices, teacups on the shelves, flour on the apron hanging up by your counter. Honing in on the fireplace across from your bed, it was a small space but you made it look big and full of life. Out the window he noticed a small barn behind the house. That must be where Olive is he thought.

“Here’s some fresh bread, made it this morning.”

You set the plate down in front of him. His mouth watering at the sight.

“Want some honey and butter?” You asked while rummaging through your cabinets, back turned to him.

“I’d love some.”

You smiled warmly at him grabbing the honey and butter.

“Hope you haven’t been eating just plain ol bread all the time, where’s the fun in that?”

Guilty.

“Can’t really fit that kinda stuff out here, gotta make room for my coffee.”

You shook your head.

“Foods more important but I understand. My Dad was a coffee drinker, traded anything for a good batch.”

“He’s a good man.” Arthur said as he took a bite of his bread.

“Before he passed he told me where his secret stash was.” You laughed.

Arthur chuckled lightly.

“You can have it if you want. I should’ve offered you that before I asked you to come in.”

“I’m happy you decided to come in though.” You added.

He nodded in agreement. He could tell you meant that.

“This is a nice space you got here. It’s remote, but you can survive here alright. Can do without the snow though.” He said looking around.

“Why thank you. That means a lot. You’ve probably lived your whole life outdoors.”

“A lot of it, that’s for sure.”

“I barely left the city before coming here ya know. People always talk about the simplicity of country life but it can be hard at times.” You said.

“I guess we only know what we know, city life sounds awful.”

“Oh it is. A truly empty and boring existence…but an undeniably easy one.”

“I bet.”

“So what about you? Where are you from?” You inquired.

As the sun sets with no signs of the snow stopping, you settle in for a evening full of stories of Arthurs escapades and card games. Getting to know a bit about the people he calls family.

He tells you about Dutch and Hosea, how much they mean to him. He mentions a man by the name of John who he sees as a brother. He also tells you about Tilly, who he saved a few weeks ago from some bad people. Then he mentions Charles, the man who taught him how to use a bow properly.

“You know... I had a son once. Years ago. I don't talk about him much.”

He didn’t usually open up to people like this. He’d only known you for a few hours yet somehow you now knew little parts of his story.

“Good kid.” Arthur took a sip of his bourbon then handed the bottle to you.

You took a sip. The warm amber liquor burning as it went down. Finding solace in the fact that you guys shared similar experiences.

“I’m so sorry Arthur.” You passed it back to him.

“S-all good. I’ve made peace with it. Miss em like hell though.”

Another instance of comfortable silence settled. The fire crackled in front of you two, warm enough to forget about the cold outside.

“How about that Horse?” Arthur nudged his head towards the window.

“You wanna meet her? We can keep Boadicea in the barn for the night too.” You said giddily.

Arthur took in the excitement from your face. You had a pretty smile.

“I have some medicine in my satchel. Happy to share. Just gotta lead me to er.”

“You’re a good man.”

“You don’t really know me.”

“I know enough. Theres always more to find in ourselves…you helped me to see that.”

“Reckon you’ll be just fine.” He said getting up.

When you get outside the air is a lot calmer with the snow up to your ankles. Arthur offers his arm for you to hold on to as you walk to the barn.

“She’s in here.”

You open the door slowly. Revealing a frail mahogany horse with white spots. She stands slowly after hearing you approach.

“Heyyyy there girl. Sorry I’ve been gone for a while.” Olive neighs in response, receiving the pats you give her.

“She’s a stunner.” Arthur says as he watches you with her.

“Should’ve seen Ol when she was in her prime. I love her even more now though.” You say cooing at her.

“Stallions bring out the best in people.”

Arthur takes the medicine out of his satchel, walking up to her. It’s late night and the orange glow from the barn lights makes him look impeccable. He gently coaxes Olive into taking the medicine, looking totally in his element.

“You’re so gentle with her.”

Arthur smiles at that comment.

It makes you dizzy. Spending the entire day with him was amazing though it went by so fast. The last time you “talked” with someone was at your local butcher about meat prices. Arthur had saved you from getting hypothermia, ate your bread, provided stories, and now he’s helping your horse. Maybe it was the two sips of bourbon but before you could stop yourself-

“Would you be that gentle with me?” You say suddenly with want on your face.

Arthur glances at you and chuckles. He’s been thinking about how your hair looks so soft and how your freckles show up the most when you smile. He can’t forget about how warm your personality is, or your hospitality. That’s all enough for him to entertain you.

“Did I hear you right?” He asks, still tending to her.

You wait with bated breath turning your head to the side in anticipation.

“There you go girl..” Making sure she’s alright, he turns to you walking closer.

He places his hand on your face smoothing his thumb over your cheek. You lean into his touch.

“Only if you’ll have me. And if you want me to be gentle.”

You nod slowly in the palm of his hand, pulling yourself closer into him. Your noses rub together hesitant in wanting to kiss. He takes your chin in between his fingers.

“It’s been so long…”

“Y‘need this as much as I do. Hm?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and whispered in his ear.

“Badly.” Was all that you said.

He took a deep inhale, inhaling your scent.

“I…It’s been a while darlin.”

Your chest ached at the rawness in his voice. You cupped his jaw and pulled him back enough to see his face—eyes needy yet earnest.

"You’re here now," You murmured. "I’ve got you."

That was all the permission he needed.

When his lips finally touch yours, he kisses you, really kisses you, it’s slow, and deliberate at first, like he’s aware of how delicate this moment is. His breath hitches, just barely, but you feel it in the way his hands dig into your clothed hips, dragging you flush against him, no space, no air, just him. He kissed you like a drowning man who just then realized where you two stood.

“Wait a sec. Gotta do this properly.” Arthur said still holding you.

You look confused at first, then you understood. You both couldn’t do this in the barn.

“Such a gentleman.” You laughed, the both of you making your way back inside the house.

So as fate wanted, your bed creaked at the force from Arthur sitting down. Straddling him now, your knees press into the cushion, chest light against his, the steady rise and fall of his breath meeting yours. He marveled at your beauty silently before kissing you again.

The second kiss is different. Sloppier. Needier. His tongue pushes past your lips, dragging deep and wet into your mouth like he’s starving for it, like he needs to savor the heat of you just once before he lets you leave the house. He licks into you slowly, unhurried, groaning softly as he swallows your breath like it’s something sweet on his tongue. You gasped, grinding your hips against the hard length straining in his pants.

“Arthur…” you moan, rubbing your thinly covered core against his rough jeans.

“This darn skirt. Getting in the way of things.”

Helping both of you strip down, clumsily giving up on his own clothes since he was more focused on you. You pressed kisses anywhere you could reach in between.

He dropped to his knees between your thighs on the bed, hands gripping them like he needed to hold on. He wanted to feel every inch of you.

He kissed the inside of your thigh, mouthing at your skin, leaving messy, open-mouthed kisses all over your hips, your stomach, your chest.

"Been dying to taste you," he admitted shamelessly. Breath hot against your core.

“Can I?”

You nodded, and he dove in, tongue lapping at you smoothly, savoring you. Hearing your light airy moans egged him on. He was trying to memorize every inch of you all at once. You felt like a small animal with a predator’s teeth on her neck with the way he looks at you.

"Could stay right here forever.”

His rough hands reached the curls of your most intimate part, running his fingers there as if he were petting it while you watched in amazement. He was a real man.

You whimpered, threading your fingers through his hair, tugging sharply out of embarrassment or something softer. Imagining what it would be like if he did stay here forever.

“So goddamn pretty.” He groaned into you, couldn’t help himself. You gasped.

“Your clothes..wanna see you.”

Arthur lets out a soft chuckle as he straightens up. You watched him undress while you lay on the bed. He could tell how much it was for you, all naked while he was still clothed, the spontaneity of it all. No blankets covering you yet. You felt shy but you were too lustful to show it.

His front and back were rippled with meat and muscle, the type of figure one can only attain through constant hard work and running. His skin littered with scars in different shapes and textures, some fully healed and others jagged. You've never seen a man quite like him. You wanted to ask him about each scar.

“Come here..” You beckoned him. He crawled up your body, his dick rubbing slick and heavy against your thigh. The both of you were drunk off of each-other at this point.

“Still want me to be gentle?” He asked while kissing your neck.

“Do whatever you want.” You moaned when his tip softly went in. Your breath hitched, feeling finally full in who knows how long.

He pushed himself completely in you, noticing your eyes roll back momentarily. Cunt split open and stuffed, you adjusted to his size.

“You don’t even know what you’re askin’ for,” he says quietly, like it’s just between the two of you and always will be. “But I’ll give it to you anyway.”

Your mind was a daze, you just wanted to feel him all around you. Completely enveloping you, all your senses locked on Arthur.

“So good," he choked out. "You can take it darlin.”

He kisses you. Filthy. Deep. His tongue pushes into your mouth before you can breathe, and you melt into it, whining into the hot slide of it as his hands roam low, gripping your ass like he’s already imagining how it’ll feel when you switch positions.

You repeated what he said in a daze. “I can take it…” Wrapping your legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts, each one a little more tantalizing than the last.

He gently takes your legs and puts them up so you could wrap them around his torso. You melted deeper into his body, submissive flares. You weren’t even aware of him moving your hair out of your face. You bit your lip at the gesture

“Jus’need to see you sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

The new nickname had your heart jumping. So happy that you had moved up from being called “ma’am” to “darlin” to now sweetheart. If he stayed he’d come up with even more names.

Suddenly he flipped the two of you over so he’s behind you, shutting you up with another kiss before you can protest. It’s slower and heavier like he’s savoring your desperation.

Legs spreading automatically to make room for him, you look up and bat your eyelashes. The room smells like want. The sweet aroma of honey, wood, sweat and sex. You’re glistening, shimmering under the dim lighting of the cabin. Leaking warmth like a prayer meant only for him.

His growl rumbles up from deep in his chest, a sound that vibrates through the seat beneath you and takes root in your spine. There’s nothing gentle in the way he moves.

Your thighs tremble and a choked, broken moan punches free of your lungs before you even realize it’s coming. Your hand flies to your mouth instinctively, fingers splayed across your lips like you can hold in what he’s tearing out of you. Arthur doesn’t stop.

“Let me hear ya.” He rasps, eyes locked between your legs like they’re tracking the center of the universe. Your hands grip the sheets, as you fuck him back. Begging him without words but with whimpers to never stop.

He groans against you, deep and wrecked, and the vibrations pulse through your cunt like an aftershock. Pounding into you at this rate, your mind goes blank at one point, he’s relentless. He taps your hip with the back of his hand and looks at you like you’re God.

“Not yet sweetheart. Gonna ride me,” he pants, dragging the words out low and rough as you crawl on his lap. Breath hitching as your thighs spread over his, the air between your bodies sharp and electric. Your cunt drags over his shaft, slick and hot. The sound that leaves his throat is pure hunger as he grabs himself in one hand, smearing your arousal down his length. Dragging the head through your folds with purpose, watching your face twist with need.

“Don’t run,” he breathes, his voice barely more than a growl, forehead pressed to yours. “Be good.”

And you are good.

You lower yourself inch by devastating inch, the stretch slow and punishing, your body fighting to take him as your nails dig into his shoulders, your breath coming out in little gasps that sound more like worship. You feel your walls part around him for the third time tonight. Feeling every ridge, every vein, every delicious ache as you sink down and bottom out.

He hisses, biting at your throat. Arthurs hands clenching around your waist like he’s anchoring himself in place.

“Look at you. Fuckin’ perfect.”

You moan into his mouth when he kisses you again, sloppier now. More tongue than lips. And then you move rolling your hips, building the rhythm that will destroy you. Every bounce draws a new groan from his throat, every grind makes your clit drag against the coarse hair at the base of his cock, sending jolts of pleasure through your spine. Your thighs burn but you couldn’t care less.

The bed rocks with the momentum, each thrust pushing the air from your lungs, each slap of skin against skin driving you closer to the edge. His hands find your ass, pulling you down harder, making you take him, and when you whimper, he chuckles dark and low against your throat.

“Yeah, darlin. That’s it. You hear that?” he grunts, pressing his palm to your lower belly, feeling the bulge where he’s buried so deep inside. “That’s me right there.”

You practically wail out, your high and aching body pulsing around him as your thighs tremble from the stretch. The slick of your cunt dripping down him. The musky sound of your bodies slapping together filling every inch of the cabin like heat pressed into fogged glass. Was it even snowing anymore?

Arms wrapped tight around his neck, your face buried against his temple, your fingers tangled in his hair like you’re trying to fuse your body to his. You can feel him panting against your collarbone, open-mouthed and desperate, like he’s biting back something loud, something animal, something barely tamed.

“Christ,” Arthur breathes against your skin, the sound more of a broken moan than a word. His voice wet and trembling. His teeth find your neck again, grazing the sensitive curve where shoulder meets throat, biting down just enough to make your pussy clench around him in response, and he feels it.

He groans against you, lips dragging along the line of your jaw as he grinds you down harder, deeper, every upward thrust punching the air from your lungs.

You’re babbling now, nothing coherent, not even words, just gasps and little broken sobs of pleasure, your hips moving on instinct, chasing something bright and unbearable as his dick grinds right into that perfect, dizzying spot inside you.

“That’s it, ride it out, sweet girl. You sound so fuckin’ pretty when you cry like that.”

The pressure mounts, unbearable. You can’t even fight it anymore. The pleasure barrels through you like a lightning strike, brutal, hot, and fast. You throw your head back as you moan deeply. Completely wrecked and shaking. Your thighs lock around him as your cunt spasms violently, clenching down on his dick like it’s trying to keep him.

And then wetness. Heat. Everywhere.

It’s not just an orgasm. It’s something more. Something primal. You squirt around him, the gush soaking his thighs and the sheets below you. The sound obscene as your slick pours out uncontrollably, drenching his lap as you collapse against him with a sob.

Arthur growls, so loud and feral it rips through the cabin like thunder. He slams into you one final time, cock pulsing deep inside your fluttering heat as he comes, thick, hot, and endless!groaning your name into your shoulder as his body trembles beneath you. He doesn't pull out. Doesn’t even try. Just stays buried to the hilt.

He wants to keep you twitching, leaking, falling apart on top of him until you forget what it feels like to breathe without his dick inside you. Eventually, your hips go still. Your head drops onto his shoulder while his arms curl around your waist like armor. One hand stroking slowly up your spine, the other resting flat against your thigh.

Your walls are still fluttering, milking him gently, your cunt wet and stretched and full, and neither of you move. You cockwarm like that, breathing in sync. Sticky skin with the wind howling outside.

Arthur presses a kiss to your temple. Another to your shoulder. One more just beneath your jaw, slower this time, reverent.

He murmurs something into your skin. Something low. Something that sounds like your name.

“Reckon you could stay for a while? You say looking at him tenderly.

He takes your hand and kisses your knuckes. His touch is soft. He just fucked you like a goddamn animal but is still the only man alive who knows how to hold you after. He just might be.

“I’ll stay till you get tired of me. I have no where else to be sweetheart.” Arthur laughs heartily.

You can’t wait to make coffee together in the morning.

—

first arthur fic!! i love rdr2 so much it had to be done. ty for reading xx <3

[beanis-weanis]

I’m just so excited for summer to start, I’m manifesting with art of mine and my gfs fursona <3

[beanis-weanis]

I am terrified...but intrigued.

Hear-me-out caaaaake

[beanis-weanis]

Yall, a bitch is in desperate need. What's that fic on AO3 with Michael Myers where you accidentally help him and then he ends up raw doggin you outside a motel while the cops are looking for you?

[beanis-weanis]

Wearing His Shirt

Was literally about to go to sleep and was stomped by the idea of Tav wearing only Raphael's shirt, sleepily coming out of the Boudoir to bother him while he drafts a contract.

Raphael x reader (cause I cannot for the life of me write 3rd person) | Drabble

You rolled onto your back, tangled amidst silken sheets upon Raphael's bed. The cambion with whom you'd shared the night was no longer curled beside you. Your skin was still dewed from the heat of his home, the raging fireplaces did nothing to ease the discomfort.

You got up, the marble floor offering a cool touch against your bare feet as you padded towards the doors. Blearily rubbing your eyes, you stooped on your way and picked up a garment which slid easily over your head and gave you a modicum of modesty. A luxurious cotton shirt acting as a tunic upon your body, filling your awakening senses with the musk of your devil.

"Raphael?" You called quietly, the halls outside his protected room still gave you the creeps. You made your way as stealthily as possible towards the light behind the door of his study.

The smell of old parchment hit your nostrils as you eased your way inside and saw Raphael working away at his desk, the clink of metal and glass as he dipped a quill into ink. Raphael marked your entry and raised his hellfire eyes, a brow quirking as he took in your appearance.

"Your own apparel no longer suffices, I take it." Raphael took off his scholarly spectacles, an accessory more affectation than necessity. He leaned back in his seat and reached out to you, a wordless command for you to approach.

You moved into reach and yelped softly as his large hand grasped the front of the shirt you wore and tugged you sharply. You braced your hands against the expanse of Raphael's chest, unsure if you saw disapproval or desire burning in his infernal eyes.

"That is my shirt, sweetling." Raphael rubbed the fabric between finger and thumb, admiring how it fell to the top of your thighs. His tail snaked round your leg, and you jerked at the unexpected sensation.

"You were hardly using it." You protested, gasping when you felt his tail squeeze in response. "It was dark...I wasn't paying attention."

"I hardly am so spiteful as to begrudge you." Raphael took your face in his hand pressing his thumb to your lips, quelling your speech. "Quite the contrary, I could get used to a vision such as this. You are mine, after all." He grinned and kept holding your face firmly as his tail slowly coiled higher. "Brace yourself on the table, pet. You served me a sweet distraction I intend on taking full advantage of."

[beanis-weanis]

Had a dream last night that i was a knight and this bigger scarier knight had me on the ground and right before he swung his sword at my neck he said smth like "i mourn the loss of life for the tree who will become your coffin" which shouldnt have turned me on like it did but alas

[beanis-weanis]

do y'all remember when they found all that tf art in Osamu Tezuka's drawer post-mortem because I think about it often

anyway keep chasing your bliss and draw weird shit, god knows we need that right now

[beanis-weanis]

My moral compass slipping as soon as I see an incredibly toxic milf.

[beanis-weanis]

just me, my fat juicy ass and my delusions against the world