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moonlight-prose · 11 months ago

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smut prompt #8 for logan 👀💗

forty five minutes in the closet

a/n: not me literally writing this in right where you left me ch4. hilarious and iconic timing, because i was fighting the urge to just have them fuck full on in that closet. so here's my chance to do just that. for funsies i'm shoving it into that universe. do not look at me for using that gif. i literally can't deny myself the sight.

summary: an alternative scene to what really happened in that closet.

OR wade wilson forces logan to play seven minutes in heaven. (it was longer than seven minutes if we're being honest.)

word count: 2.6k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, exhibitionism, dirty talk, logan is filthy af and we love that, spit, fingering sort of, p in v sex, quickie, rough sex, biting, he's down bad for his honey what can i say, panty gag, a formal apology for how fucking horny and unhinged this is.

The closet felt smaller than intended—even as your back was pressed to the wall hard enough to feel the cracks in the drywall that stretched to the ceiling. Laughter filtered through the thin wooden door as Wade told yet another joke about shit you couldn't discern. Even if you asked him to explain, you'd still be confused come morning.

Logan leaned heavily against his side of the closet. Approximately two feet of space between you. The tips of your shoes touched his boots. The faint scent of cigar smoke still lingered from where he ripped it out and tossed it in an ashtray. You wouldn't have cared if he smoked in here. You might have asked for a puff.

He insisted on keeping the air clean in case you had to breathe.

Wade claimed you were playing seven minutes in heaven. Seven minutes of alone time with the man who made your head spin. In a proximity close enough to feel the heat of his body from where you stood. Although you'd been standing there for four minutes (you were keeping count via the watch on Logan's wrist) and the group seemed to have forgotten about the both of you entirely.

"Do you—um—know what usually happens here?"

A smile curved on his lips—eyes scrutinizing you with a look that told you he was teasing you. "Yeah. I do. I'm old, not stupid."

"I just wanted to make sure..." In a swift move you barely saw, he rose to his full height and crossed the invisible line holding the two of you on opposing sides. "Oh–"

"Honey." His voice was low, yet you felt as if he was screaming in your ear.

"Yes?" you breathed—eyes fixed on the way his chest took up your space. His flannel was stretched across it and for a moment you wondered if you started salivating at the sight.

"Are you nervous?"

Another raucous round of laughs broke through the darkness that surrounded you. But you could barely hear them over the echo of your own heart. It hammered loudly against your chest—quickening the closer he got. The more his large frame began to engulf you in a warmth you only dreamed of. You clamored to come up with a response, to flippantly push off his advance with a tease of your own.

His hands pressing on either side of your head to the wall behind you killed every ounce of bravery you had left. All your worries and thoughts about what lay on the other side of that door were extinguished. Logan leaned down, his nose brushed yours, and inhaled deep enough to steal the breath from your lungs.

"I can smell you," he rumbled. "Sweet like honey."

A searing heat built beneath your skin, burning from your cheeks down to the tips of your toes. Your mouth opened—words still fighting to be formed—but he didn't need an answer. Not when he could smell the arousal that pooled between your thighs. How you subtly shifted to find a bit of friction in the hopes of something more.

"You mind if I kiss you bub?"

A piece of you fractured in the darkness of that closet—settling comfortably in his own chest. You might ask for it back after all of this, but Logan felt his chances of you walking out as his were growing the longer this went on.

Glancing up—eyes wide and darkened with lust—you bit back the whine that crawled up the back of your throat. "They'll hear us."

He shrugged, shifting close enough for you to almost taste the whiskey off his lips. "Good."

"Logan–"

Lips pressed to your cheek, drawing a soft sigh from your parted mouth. "Somethin' tells me they're just waiting for it." His hand left the wall to trail along your waist, dipping slowly with a kiss to the corner of your lips. "And somethin' also tells me...you like that idea."

It's not as if you were entirely opposed to the idea. Actually most nights (if not every night) was spent with you imagining what it would be like to feel him this way. To be stretched with his cock so much you would feel a delicious burn.

You craved it.

He knew solely from the wanton look on your face. The way your eyes fluttered the further his hand went.

"You gonna let me in or what honey?" he cooed, fingers dipping beneath your skirt to seek out the slick that soaked the lace of your underwear.

Surely the seven minutes had run out, leaving the both of you to make a choice. Stay here and keep going for everyone to catch you. Or walk out, find a room, and continue this in private.

The thought of waiting a second longer snapped at your heels with an air of impatience you let consume you. What the fuck did it matter if they heard you getting fucked against the wall? What did it matter if you'd never live this down as long as you lived?

How could you actually think about shame when Logan's fingers were pressed against your dripping cunt, seeking out your clit through the thin fabric that divided you.

Sagging against the wall with a soft moan, you gripped his flannel in your fist and yanked his lips to yours. He groaned, falling into your body and effectively pinning you to the wall, as his tongue met yours. And suddenly you realized...you liked how whiskey tasted off of his tongue.

He devoured you with the kiss, swallowing each moan and stunted whine as his fingers made quick work of finding your clit. Rubbing quick circles, he plunged his tongue into your mouth - licking at your teeth with a fervor that seeped down into your stomach. It was messy. His spit mixed with yours, staining the skin of your cheek. Your slick coated the inside of your thighs as he pushed the fabric into you roughly.

Yet none of it felt enough to ease the ache that spread rapidly down to the tips of your fingers. Your heart twisted as he gripped the back of your neck—leading you in a kiss that divulged down to nothing but teeth and spit.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, your leg hooking around his hip, in the hopes of dragging him closer. To feel the hard bulge against the rough denim of his jeans.

"Look at you," he mumbled against your cheek. "All pretty and leakin' for me."

A sharp burst of need pulled tight at your stomach—the breath torn from your lungs. "Inside–"

He smiled. "C'mon honey. Use that smart head of yours. Gimme some words."

His words were a brutal tease that scraped against your skin. Yet that coupled with his fingers that seemed to hold an edge of desperation, left you gasping for air. Fingers dug into his shirt, lips found his in the hollow darkness, and you begged for mercy. This was your penance. The altar he intended to bend you across.

Oh how you longed for him to follow through.

"Fuck me," you managed to get out between sharp intakes of breath and heady kisses. "Please Logan. It hurts.

The sound that emanated from deep in his chest could only be described as feral. You'd never heard him like that before. Bordering on the line of unhinged and sanity. A flare of want pulled at your body, echoing loudly in your chest.

You wanted to hear it again. To feel him break beneath your palms as he rutted into you with need. You ached to watch him whittle himself down to the barest of his senses. The animalistic urge of lust he kept hidden for weeks on end.

"Yeah?" His words were a snarl against your ear, teeth scraping your jaw as he ripped his hand away. "'M gonna make it better. Gonna take away the pain."

Nails scratched at the back of his neck when you heard his claws slide out—cutting through the fabric that clung to you. It was sopping wet; proof that you hadn't in fact been lying about your need. Logan felt his cock leak in his jeans at the sight—how your slick clung to his fingers as he swiped along the gusset.

"All for me," he sighed.

"Uh-huh." If you thought you sounded needy before, that was nothing compared to this moment.

He eyed you briefly. The hazel you'd grown fond of now dark and clouded with lust. The plea for more lay on the tip of your tongue—ready to be laved against his skin the longer he took. But then he brought the fabric to his mouth, his tongue running across it with a broken groan. The breath was punched from your lungs—legs shaking as a wave of slick poured out of you.

"Oh fuck–" you gasped, cupping his chin to catch his lips in a kiss.

The clink of his belt buckle echoed like a gunshot in the small space. Your heart began to race. Fingers shaking as you watched him tug his cock free; fisting the red and leaking tip with a throaty moan. Saliva filled your mouth at the mere thought of him sliding between your lips. The image of him feeding you his cock with a smile.

He fanned the flames of your simmering fire, offering you pleasure with ease.

His hand gripped your other leg, positioning it over his hip before pushing you up along the wall. The yelp was muffled by his lips; your hands finding purchase against his hot skin.

"Gotta be real quiet now bub," he mumbled, sliding his cock along your drenched cunt.

The head tapped against your clit once, twice. By the third time your teeth were dug into your bottom lip so hard copper burst on your tongue.

"I promise."

He chuckled, breathless. You joined.

The compact space stretched out before you, expanding with each joined breath and laugh. Passion intertwined in your chest, reaching for him with a tender touch of reverence. And nothing existed but the two of you.

"Hey Logan."

His cock jumped at the sound of your voice so light and airy. "Yeah honey?"

"If I don't tell you after this." Your hips canted into his, grinding towards where he positioned himself. "I had a really nice time tonight."

His heart fluttered as your words settled into his skin—soaking up your warmth. "Me too."

The laughter diminished the second he pushed forward, sliding into you with a slickened thrust that left his body shuddering. You swallowed the sob that wrenched from your chest when he kept going. Stretching you until you felt the burn begin to seep into your body. You weren't prepared for how addicting it felt; how mindless he made you.

Seven minutes had surely blended into fifteen, giving the group no doubt of what you were doing. That only solidified when he bottomed out and you moaned so loud it nearly gave him a heart attack. His fingers clamored for something in his pocket—his lips sliding against yours to silence the endless whimpers. He filled you until you saw white behind your eyes each time they fluttered closed.

"They're gonna hear ya," he muttered. You caught a flash of lace before it was being pressed to your lips—willing you to part them and hold the fabric between your teeth.

Logan gave you one minute to find your brain in the muddled thoughts that filled you, before pulling out. Only to slam back in. Your cry was muffled—eyes rolled back—and he felt a searing triumph begin to form in his chest. At the sight of you in a messy state of bliss.

His hips slapped against yours, the wet slide of your cunt a loud echo. Adding to the symphony of his groans and your whimpered sounds. Your spit soaked into the lace, fingers digging hard along the planes of his back, and he felt you gush at the feel of his teeth sinking into your neck.

"So fuckin' sweet for me," he grunted, cupping your ass to push you back and forth on his cock. A shift in the angle had you going dumb. Eyes wide and glazed with tears. "My pretty girl huh?"

Fuck you wanted to scream. You longed to hear his name bounce off the closet walls and spill into the foyer of Wade's damn apartment. To remind them that time was still passing and their limit had reached the vastness of infinity.

He pounded into you with sharp gasps of praise, words that fell on ears deafened by the rush of blood that ran right to your head. Oxygen felt secondary when his cock kissed the wall of your cunt with such accuracy it left you blinded. Enough to have you sobbing into the spit soaked lace - tears spilling down your cheeks.

"You take it like it was fuckin' made for you yeah?"

You nodded, breasts bouncing as he fucked you along his cock—his other hand pressed to the wall. You took it like it was made for you, because it was made for you. Logan belonged to you. Whether he knew it now or not.

"I can feel you squeezin' me," he gasped. "Gonna cum?"

"Mhm," you mumbled, the squelch of your cunt loud enough to block out the laughter from the outside.

"Then do it honey." His thumb found your clit, swirling it with sharp pointed circles. Your toes curled in your shoes—head falling back to the wall with a soft thud. "That's it. Fuckin' cum for me."

"Mmff–" A sob of what morphed into his name tore from the depths of your body. Rendering you a shaky mess in his arms as you clamped down around his cock.

Slick poured out of you, coating the hair along the base of his stomach in your essence. Logan growled at the sight. His eyes narrowed and teeth bared with each stunted thrust of his hips into yours. Claws punctured the drywall behind you as a way to keep his body level. To ground himself as he came with a hoarse groan he quickly muffled into the top of your breast.

Grinding into you, he emptied himself entirely. Rope after rope of his spend now filling you to the point of dripping down to his balls.

You felt the need to drop to your knees and taste him.

To clean him entirely and place him neatly back in his jeans. But the movement of your body no longer remained an option—your legs numb and back sore from being pounded into the wall.

He removed the gag with a huff, kissing you gently with his thumbs pressed to the tops of your cheeks. A soft caress. A contract to the rough way he manhandled you.

"I can't feel my legs," you sighed into his mouth, tongue swiping along his bottom lip.

"You're not supposed to." The weak slap to his chest had him laughing louder than intended.

"Don't worry. Wade won't notice if you carry me."

He groaned, his teeth scraping at the flesh of your breast. "Don't fuckin’ say his name or I won't be able to fuck you again tonight."

You giggled, running your hands through his mussed hair. "Whiskey dick?"

"Shut up–"

"He's told you–"

Lips sealed over yours, hips pushing yours until the sigh stuttered from your chest. "Don't fuckin' start honey."

You smiled into the kiss. "Or you'll finish?"

A thump rammed against the door, startling the both of you. You half expected it to swing open and expose Logan with his jeans down to his knees and his softened cock still inside you. But all that came through was Wade's laughter—his knuckles rapping on the wood.

"Did he rise babygirl?" he shouted much to the detriment of the group who booed behind him.

"I will cut you open through the door!" Logan snarled. A triumphant laugh rattled the walls as Logan lowered you to the ground. Only for Wade to get the last official word.

"HE ROSE!"

#logan howlett x f!reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x y/n #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #my writing

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clockwayswrites · 4 months ago

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Danny in Metropolis, ch4 p1

aka: Kon is so gay and so gone for this disaster twink

masterpost no concrit/editing please. very headache, very sleepy, very hand hurty <3

For the first time since Kon had started bringing them for him, Danny wasn’t finishing his lunch. It was extra worrying because Danny hadn’t even touched the dried mango slices, which was one of his absolute favorite lunch time items. Kon hated himself a little for knowing that and noticing, but he did and had. He noticed a lot of little things about Danny.

That day Kon was noticing how pale Danny was, that the circle under his eyes were darker, that his eyes were a little glassy. All Kon could think of was that conversation were Clark had asked if Danny had been sick and a list: Gatorade, jello, broth, fake cherry flavoring.

With their other friends at the table, Kon couldn’t even ask about Danny if he was feeling sick. He was sure if he had tried that Danny would just laugh it off. He always tried to laugh things off. Which meant for the rest of the day that Kon just had to worry and notice.

Notice Danny growing more fatigued. Notice how he drooped. Notice the bit of blood crusted around Danny’s nose after he got back from the bathroom in last period.

Kon picked up Danny’s backpack when the bell rung and they stood to leave. Danny looked at him with furrowed brows, but Kon just slung it on his front and raised his chin with a jut. “I’m walking you home—mine or yours, whichever.”

Danny rolled his eyes, but even that motion didn’t have any heart in it. “Don’t want to be a bother.”

“For like the hundredth time, you’re not a bother. My parents love you and Jon can’t wait to bug you about more space facts.”

Danny blushed faintly and rubbed at the back of his neck. “They do not love me.”

“They love you,” Kon said confidently. “You’re a good influence on my or some shit. They think you’re all polite and adorable.”

Danny gave a little snort. “I am polite and adorable.”

Kon gave a little shrug, which was hindered by the two backpacks he had on. “Never said they were wrong.”

Danny sputtered at Kon’s easy response and blushed a little deeper.

“My place then? Lois is making walking tacos which is like, the one thing that she can reliably make and not mess up. I think it’s because it’s just adding taco seasoning to ground turkey. Oh, are you up for meat tonight? We can do chickpeas for you if you aren’t,” Kon said. As long as he kept talking he knew that Danny would just follow. It was a little underhanded, but Kon figured sometimes Danny needed that to take care of himself. “I talked to Jon’s little demon friend and he said that chickpeas were a really good substitution for meat a lot of times. But also there will be baked beans cause we always have those with walking tacos so maybe you don’t want anything else? Anyways, the option is there. Do you even like chickpeas?”

“Chickpeas is humus, yeah? I like them like that,” Danny said after a beat where he was clearly trying to catch up with Kon’s stream of words. “But what the hell are ‘walking tacos’?”

“Oh, ah, Frito salad? Taco bowl? Taco salad? Taco meat, beans, and cheese over lettuce and Fritos. M—Lois will have salsa and sour cream too,” Kon explained.

“Oh. Yeah, my old school used to do those for lunch sometimes. That seems like a weird thing to be good at making,” Danny pointed out.

“Lois says it’s because of the walking part, it’s good to eat on the road between stories,” Kon said. “Convince store food and things you can make in a hotel room are her specialties.”

Danny chuckled at that (the first laugh Kon had heard from him that day). “That’s almost hard to believe. She seems so…big.”

“Big?”

"Danny shrugged. “Larger than life. Big city. Powerful. She’s a whirlwind, like you are.”

Kon blinked. “You think I’m a whirlwind?”

“Yep,” Danny said, popping the P. “I mean, like, where even are we? I don’t know how we got here, I was just caught up in whirlwind Conner.”

Kon snorted. “We’re taking a short cut back to my place so I can make you take a damn nap.”

“Nap. A nap sounds really good,” Danny said dreamily.

#dp x dc #danny/kon #danny in metropolis #still need a real titled #I had one once but can't remember it lol

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smuttysabina · 6 months ago

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A Month With Aespa (Ch 5): A Taste of Winter

(Male Reader x Karina x Winter, 3k Words) Tags: Rampant lesbianism; Excessive foreplay; Immense Creampies; Twintails get used as handlebars, These outfits were honestly wild, they should wear more fishnets; some voyeurism; Vaginal and Oral sex; Threesome; Some Fisting

Read Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4 here!

It had so far been a perfectly ordinary day. You had spent a great deal of your time luxuriating in the gardens that still glistened with the morning's dew, sampling some new delicacies from the kitchen, and had received a somewhat mediocre, if enthusiastic, pleasuring from Ningning (who had insisted upon using her modest breasts to prove her bust's superiority over Karina's; it were not). So, aside from a rather strained painting of an idol's chest with your seed, your day had otherwise been filled with whimsy and the like; you could already hear your maids muttering to themselves about the lack of attention. It was in the late afternoon then that you were strolling through the corridors, eyeing your passing staff to see if any felt particularly fulfilling to well, fill, when you notice Karina scurrying through a service passage. It was surprising enough to see her out and about considering her penchant for staying in her room all day, but it was even more surprising to see doing so dressed like a cheap (well, moderately priced, really) whore. A tightening of your groin indicates that any further consideration about a potential distraction was not required; your darling maids would understand completely.

You follow Karina at a leisurely pace, keeping her barely in sight as you stroll along, giving you only glimpses of her outfit as she darts around corners and down stairways. Her exotic twintails bouncing erratically as she weaves a confusing path through your grandfather's manor; or at least it would be had you not known the place like the rear of your old anatomy teacher (Ms. Hendricks had held a rather hands-on view towards teaching, and her sizable posterior a formidable tool in that respect). As it was, you always managed to keep track of Karina as she wound her way back to where she started, and you find your curiosity further piqued as she seems to hesitate in front of the door of one of your other guests, before softly knocking on the door and slipping inside. Of course, the only other guests in the mansion were the other members of Aespa, so now you were well and truly baffled by the entire scheme of hers'; why bother bustling about if her eventual destination was literally feet away? Your brow furrowed with thought, you hurry to the service corridors yourself, and from there into the servant's passages that honeycombed the walls of your residence. You step quietly over to the peephole that looks into Winter's room, and peer intently through it, keen to discover just what the idols were up to (Hm? I'm sorry, why exactly is the mansion riddled with cuck-holes you ask? Obviously because where is the thrill of illicit love-making if there is not the risk of it getting exposed? Also the maids do love to watch, even if it does leave the place rather damp at times).

The view through the narrow opening was somewhat limited, but fortuitously the two idols had placed themselves upon Winter's bed directly in front of it. Now that she was finally still, you could truly examine in detail Karina's outfit, and found yourself suitably impressed. Her long twintails frames her sizable bust quite nicely, which though shrouded by fabric was still pleasantly arousing, and the black fishnets that led up to her miniskirt were the icing upon the proverbial cake. Winter by contrast was a brighter version of Karina, her fishnets were pink, as was the open skirt around her waist, which was conspicuously lacking anything to cover up her darker-hued panties. Yet more fishnetted lingerie covered her arms and chest, and her more modest twintails were set further back on her head; it was surprising to see them dressed so sensually, neither had bothered since their first days at the mansion. Giselle on the other hand seemed to revel in extravagant outfits, nearly as much as she enjoyed annoying you enough to bend her over in a service corridor, praise be that your maids were experts in removing semen stains! Of course Ningning also could be seen flaunting her body in sleek dresses and shifts, though those were rarely on her body long enough for you to truly appreciate them these days.

But the bemusement at seeing Karina and Winter not in their usual sweats or pajamas was swiftly escalated when the pair begin to make out. Your eyes practically bulge as you watch Karina melting into Winter's arms, their lips locked tightly together as their hands roam each other's bodies. Now this was a truly unexpected development, you had imagined that Aespa would have been carnally familiar with one another, but the manner in which the two were kissing indicated an intimacy that surpassed casual sex. You are surprised to feel a stab of jealousy as Winter freely mauls Karina's ample breasts through her shirt, the latter's constant denials had you feeling a touch possessive in your desires towards her. And Winter's consistent polite coldness towards your advances had made you think it was simply a quirk of her personality, yet with the other idol she showed a gleefully honest lack of restraint. You had thought you would catch the girls gossiping away or the like, and yet here they were, engaging in passionate foreplay that would no doubt soon devolve into outright sex! So, with a rather particular tightness in your pants, you sit forwards to enjoy the show.

You knew that lesbians tended to take awhile with their foreplay, but frankly, this was getting ridiculous. Karina and Winter were still merely kissing and petting one another, why, they had not even moved from that particular spot on Winter's bed! Surely the idols must be so worked up by this point that they were literally dripping wet, you certainly were, but no, the pair spared only the gentlest of touches to their sexes; and remained completely clothed! With an irritable huff you force yourself to settle, indulgent excess was meaningless without restraint, as your dear grandfather had been so fond of saying (He had also been wont to repeat "through anal fornication, comes perfection", so perhaps you should harken too closely to his, ah, wisdom). Yet, nothing happened. It was as if the members of Aespa were putting on a show for none (obviously they would assume their little tryst was going unwatched after Karina's stealthy antics), that, or they were appallingly chaste with one another. There was only so much teasing one could tolerate however, and the only reason why you had not faltered in your determination to copulate with Karina and merely emptied yourself into some passing maid, was that one had not wandered by yet. So you rationalize that it was only your duty as a gracious host that you properly encourage those two to, well, get on with it; some couples do require a helping hand (or member) after all!

Filled with fresh resolve, you retrace your steps out into the main hallway, past several maids who eye your obvious bulge with more than a little interest, and right to Winter's door. After taking a moment to adjust yourself so that your erection was not blatantly visible, you knock briefly before inviting yourself inside, a kindly request for some advice regarding Giselle's mundane habit of leaving her belongings everywhere dying on your lips as Karina and Winter break out of their embrace to glare at you in parodies of shock and surprise. You cough awkwardly at this truly unexpected situation, and fixing a look of benevolent concern upon your face, stride deeper into Winter's room. Surely the idols had not been pushed to engage in such banal intimacies due to inattention on your part, you declare with worry, had you been so poor a host that you had focused too closely upon the other two members of Aespa? You would gladly assist them in remedying this disgraceful failing on your part... Winter narrows her eyes at Karina, subtly indicating that she should be the spokesperson, and the idol duly burbles out a breathless response, "Oh, um, dear host, not at all! We were merely... practicing! Yes, we were practicing," Karina beams innocently, her polite demeanor unable to hide the obvious flush coloring her cheeks. A single raised eyebrow is all the reply you require to prompt her into continuing, "Of course, you are welcome to observe, as is your right," Winter frowns but nods in agreement; ah, progress.

You pull an armchair in front of the bed, leaning back into it before broadly gesturing for the idols to continue with their... "practice"; and are given a front-row view of Karina and Winter once more shyly kissing one another. You are utterly baffled by their behavior, you knew from first-hand experience that Karina was an absolute menace between the sheets, and from your brief interactions with Winter, you could tell that she was beyond experienced when it came to pleasuring both men, women, and everything in between. Undoubtedly the pair had engaged in wanton acts of debauchery together, idols were renowned for their depraved orgies, so your thoughts once again churned as you attempted to solve this knotty problem... As always, the wisdom of the Ancients comes to your aid, why bother untangling this Gordian mystery, when you could simply sever it? With a radiant smile upon your face, you heave yourself upright and stand proudly in front of the bemused idols, who once more ceased kissing to stare at you, courteously awaiting your words. They barely even blink when you unsheathe your sword, its tip bulbous and oozing from the girl's infuriating teasing; Karina's lips seem to quirk slightly before returning to her demure half-smile.

Usually you would engage in foreplay, exploring your lover's bodies while they probed your own, but after nearly an hour of simply watching, you decided to forego such pleasantries. You order Karina to open her legs, which she does with a disinterested sigh, while Winter huffs in disgust, but the latter's eyes widen when you tell her to start eating Karina out. The members of Aespa glance at each other, before Winter shrugs with exaggerated indifference, and leans down between Karina's fishnetted thighs, moving her tight miniskirt up to reveal Karina's glistening slit before her head obscures it. Winter's rear remains upraised however, her gauzy pink skirts shrouding it in an excess of fabric, and you are quick to lift it up over her hips, revealing the thong beneath. Winter looks back at you for a moment, before rolling her eyes and returning to devouring her friends' pussy; who seems to be rather enjoying herself if the squelching noises coming from her crotch are anything to go by. But now it was your turn, and you are almost trembling as your hands roam Winter's pale rear, her skin pleasantly dimpled by the pink fishnets as you squeeze and spread them. You slap your meat against her exposed lower lips, causing runnels of juices to dampen her thighs, and with barely contained excitement, your manhood tastes the final member of Aespa's pussy for the first time.

Unlike her name, Winter's sex was hot, almost uncomfortably so. It felt as if your member was inside of a heater, one that was enjoyable lubricated to be sure, and that voraciously sucked you inside of it, but still. Not that you minded though as you plow Winter from behind, her stuffy pussy already having you on edge from her extensive show- Fresh wetness gushes down your shaft, the idol shudders in your grasp, evidently she had been pushed to her limits by Karina's chaste kisses as well. With a grunt you push forwards, forcing Winter flat atop Karina, her face shoved between her friend's amble breasts as you start to prone bone the idol. Your cock grinding against her sensitive spot with every thrust, sending fresh quivers through her body as her pussy soaks the skirt pooled beneath her groin. No matter how skillfully your movements however, you found yourself unable to resist the burning heat broiling your manhood, and after several more messy slaps you finally allow yourself to let go. Winter lets out a muffled squeal as your semen pours into her, her feet drumming against the bed as your load fills her pussy. You shake as you collapse down onto her, your strength leaving you as pleasure wracks your form, the pair of you shuddering in sympathy as your twined orgasms leave you breathless. Shivering, you unmount Winter, your erection dragging across her buttocks as you rise back onto your knees, leaving behind a glistening trail that leads back to the creamy mess belching from her vagina.

You lay on your side to catch your breath, as the idols untangle themselves from one another, the both of them leaving behind obvious wet stains on the sheets. But before your seed can add to the damage, Karina determinedly takes her own turn between Winter's thighs, lapping up the sperm before using her tongue to clean even deeper inside of the other idol. If you had thought your own efforts had been adept at bringing Winter to orgasm, Karina swiftly put you to shame as her oral techniques soon have Winter blubbering. The usually composed idol was in paroxysms of agonizing pleasure as she held onto Karina's twintails, her face bright red as she drowns Karina in her fluids, until with a undignified shriek she squirts so hard it sprays past Karina's face and all over the bed. Her chest heaving, Winter pats Karina's cheeks affectionately, "Stupid, Cheese Cat," she gasps, and the pair share a smile. But such an impressive display had stirred your lust once more, and now you wanted to try using Karina's twintails as handlebars! Karina's blowjob skills were, of course, perfect. Even as you used her hair to piston her head up and down your shaft, her tongue still plied its underside while her lips wrapped tightly around it. Karina idly masturbates throughout, no matter how hard you fucked her face her fingers continued stirring at an unbothered pace; if only you could keep her forever...

After allowing Karina to slobber all over your manhood without your assistance for a little while, you decide it is only right that you reward her for her efforts. So once again she spreads her lingerie-sheathed legs, but this time it is you who place yourself between them. Karina had been wet when you had made love the first time in the showers a week ago (with more than just steamy water, obviously), but this time she was literally soaking from Winter's efforts. You suppress a groan as Karina's exquisite pussy welcomes you inside of it once more, her folds squeezing your cock tightly as it swallows every inch of it. With your hands beneath her knees, you push her legs back, allowing you to take her in mating press, her voluptuous body squishing against yours, and with a single violent motion you wrench her top up over her breasts. Karina gasps slightly, but gives you an amused smile in response, "How romantic," she says dryly as her cleavage flattens itself against your chest, your body weight pressing you together. Your thighs slam you down into her again and again, and you nuzzle against her neck as she wraps her arms around you, your conjoined sexes squelching loudly as they slap together. A shudder runs through Karina, and a fresh slurry of fluids sprays against your balls as she climaxes, "Oh you vile..." she moans before purring with ill-disguised satisfaction.

Having brought your partner to orgasm, it was only polite then that you gifted her a reward for her efforts today; seeing the elegant idol dressed so lewdly had aroused you more than you had realized, and it was only proper that you showed your appreciation. You groan as pleasure surges through you, and after several more long, determined thrusts, you creampie Karina. Your seed spews deep inside of her, and the idol quivers as she is bred, her enjoyment at the sensation of being inseminated as obvious as your own joy at doing it to her. When your semen has finished painting the entrance to her womb, she coughs, politely reminding you that you are squishing her. You gently scramble off of her, and Karina simply lays there, her chest heaving in a rather attractive manner (It was a struggle to not mount her bodice then and there), before giving you a somewhat pleased smile, "Well that was nice, I suppose. Are you quite done now, or should we wait on cleaning up?" she asks with an upraised eyebrow. With an exhausted wave you indicate that the idols were free to do as they wish, giving them a nod of approval before tottering towards the exit. You had not even finished closing the door before hearing the noisy sounds of Winter slurping your load out of Karina; they did seem to have great experience in cleaning one another out...

You were thoughtful as you slowly strode back to your own chambers, blissfully unaware of the fact that you were still stark naked; though to be fair, that was hardly an unusual state for you to be in. Karina had put a great deal of trouble into scurrying all around the mansion, it was almost as if she had been trying to catch your attention with such a flashy outfit... Any further musing was put on hold however when you open the door to your room and find Ningning elbow-deep inside of Giselle's sloppy cunt; were all of Aespa carnally interested in each other? Ningning glances back at you without a hint of apology on her face, "Oh good, you're back, we got bored with waiting so we started without you," her eyes narrow as she takes in your unruly appearance, and she sniffs the air before scowling, "You've been fucking Karina again, haven't you? I can smell her loose cunt on your cock," Ningning smirks wickedly as she presents her rear for your pleasure, "Why don't you clean yourself in a real idol, you can even dirty yourself in this slut's holes to truly appreciate the difference..."

You sigh inwardly, this was proving to be a touch more exhausting than you had originally anticipated...

#smut #kpop smut #fanfic #aespa smut #aespa fanfic #karina smut #winter smut #kpop fanfic

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atalana · 2 months ago

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also im sure some people have noticed already, but since i haven't seen anything on tumblr about it yet, for people who haven't - kris has 20hp in the light world and so far that bar has pretty much always been full

in chapter four though, after kris beats the soul up, that's no longer the case!

their brief smacking it with the hockey stick/guitar in the normal route drops your health to 18. their vicious kicking the shit out of the soul in the snowgrave continuation drops it to 10. (it drops even further by the end of the chapter in a way that might have something to do with how much health you ended the titan battle with, but im gonna do a couple more ch4 playthroughs and see if i can nail down exactly what the deal with that is, and if it means that the titan can reach across worlds and damage kris' soul in a way no other dark world enemy has been able to so far)

either way, the first thing that happens when they try to move after putting the soul back in, is they stumble and fall and it takes a few seconds for them to even try and get back up. (it looks like they're tripping over the object they threw from certain angles in the normal route, but no this happens no matter how clear their path is)

regardless of whether or not it's their original soul, it is now intrinsic to their life force. any amount of damage done to the soul, even when outside their body, will hurt kris in equal amounts, and they've been doing this long enough they have to know that!

in the normal route that speaks to their level of dedication to whatever their end goal is here, that they will hurt themselves quite significantly to keep susie from finding that note on the guitar (though it's in keeping with chara being one of their two undertale parallels)

but in snowgrave pt 2. god. it speaks to how much they hate us. that route in ch4 reveals that the first thing soulless kris did at the end of ch2 wasn't creating the fountain - there was an unseen timeskip. the first thing soulless kris did after snowgrave was to sneak over to noelle's house, remove the thorn ring (that was controlling her and giving her the ability to kill with ice magic), tell her everything was gonna be okay, but that she should never mention any of this to anyone (because if she said it around kris in the future then the soul would hear)

and kris' worst fears came true. she does bring it up, because she doesn't realise kris is also included in "anyone". and to stay on the snowgrave route, like in ch2, you have to do the worst thing possible, which is manually take control of kris back (this is happening while you're the untethered soul, but kris is distracted enough you can rejoin their body without them fighting you off - but you can see their sprite shaking afterwards as they try to resist what you're about to do), confirm for noelle that all of her dream was real, tell her she's going to get stronger, and force the thorn ring back on her (at which point the screen goes black with red lines like shattered glass, and the segment in noelle's house ends there, so we don't know the full consequences of that yet)

i did talk in a previous post about the shadow mantle boss saying that kris enjoyed the snowgrave route, they just didn't want to admit it to themselves and being possessed by the player gave them a convenient excuse. but after playing this route i no longer think that's even a remote possibility.

because kris wasn't trying to hide or prevent anything by beating the soul up this time. this was pure revenge and disgust over what we did to their friend. and even knowing that whatever damage they did was also going to be done to them, they were willing to beat it within an inch of its life. your vision is blurring the entire time, kris loses half their health from this, they only stopped because asgore nearly caught them in the act. and the burning question on my mind is how much further were they willing to go? if no one interrupted, would they have stopped at all?

(and yeah the takeaway here is that going forward, kris is hurt, in more ways than ralsei or susie can heal. and also do not ever underestimate their love for noelle)

#deltarune #deltarune spoilers #snowgrave #kris dreemurr #noelle holiday #deltarune chapter 4 #i did two playthroughs of ch4 in the normal route - one i ended the chapter with 10hp the other i ended with 5 #(and kris did take more damage from the titan the second time)#but i also forgot to check their health in that brief overworld segment between the two church dark worlds?#and yeah haven't finished my snowgrave playthrough yet #so we shall see!#deltarune weird route

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jaythes1mp · 1 year ago

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This is my first official post, and idk how to feel about it. So any and all comments & reblogs are really appreciated. If it’s bad please comment so I know I have to delete it🙏

Your secrets are ours, Kid

Yandere BatFam x Reader — CH1 -> CH2 -> CH3 -> CH4 -> CH5 -> CH6 -> CH7 -> CH8 -> CH9 -> CH10

Nightwing, who’s known for his impressive acrobatic skills and crime-fighting abilities, has become a prominent figure in the city of Blüdhaven. Renowned for his fearless approach to taking down criminals and has gained a notable reputation among the superhero community.

The guy's identity is a complete mystery, though. Nightwing works alone, leaving many of us to wonder who the man behind the mask really is. — Some say he has connections to Gotham City’s own famous vigilante, Batman.

When the young hero is seen in action, he can be often spotted leaping from rooftops and engaging in daring acts of superheroism, leaving criminals and citizens alike in awe of his skill and courage. Some question if he's a human or something more, while others simply look on in admiration. Despite the secrecy surrounding his identity, Nightwing's reputation seems to grow endlessly.

Then there’s Red Hood, the dark and brooding vigilante of Gotham City, a fearsome sight to behold. His red mask and signature pistols make him easily recognizable, and his actions leave criminals trembling in terror.

Some have speculated him being a former criminal reforming his ways while I believe that he too has ties to our one and only Batman. Despite his dark demeanor and ruthless tactics, it seems clear to me that there is a connection between the two. There has been a lot of evidence submitted for their collaboration, even if they choose to deny it publicly. Though, Batman, known for his strict code of ethics, would not typically associate himself with someone as morally ambiguous as Red Hood. But the circumstantial evidence is too compelling to ignore.

Regardless, Red Hood's impact on the criminal underworld is undeniable. He uses violence and intimidation to enforce his own brand of justice, which is rather admirable, yet causing many to question his brutal methods.

Next up is our one and only Batman himself, the dark knight of Gotham City. He’s a mystery in itself. His tall, imposing stature is enough to strike fear into the hearts of criminals, and his reputation as a master detective and fighter only enhances his mystique.

I have been trying to piece together the puzzle that is Batman's identity. Who is the man under the mask? What drives him to take on Gotham's criminals with such determination?

Though the billionaire Bruce Wayne has long been suspected as the man behind the mask, no concrete evidence has ever been presented. His true identity remains a puzzle, something that adds to his allure and intrigue. Every lead I follow seems to hit a dead end. The playboy is too obvious, too niche. What would motivate a Wayne, someone brought up into filthy wealth, who wastes his money on grand galas and prostitutes, into defending this city? The theory is too far reached.

Next are Red Robin and Robin. Batman’s sidekick-associates. Their partnership with Batman has been evident in their actions and fighting style. However, a rumour has been running around, theorising that the newer Robin was a young child when he had first joined Batman at his side.

Would our beloved hero really force a minor into sighting the dark dangerous streets of Gotham? Would he_

As you sat uncomfortably at the countertop of your kitchen, typing away on your laptop, you were suddenly interrupted by the unexpected sound of someone clearing their throat. You look up from the bright screen to see your roommate standing in the doorway, arms crossed. You raise an amused brow, a grin tugging at your lips at the sight of the other male in pyjamas rather than the usual broody black clothes and leather jacket. You click save and shut off the computer, turning fully to face him. “Yes, Jayson dear?”

Jason’s nose scrunches at the name, even as he stands in the doorway wearing nothing but a thin, well-worn shirt and pants. He looks like a child, which is somehow more than a little endearing. His eyes flickering up and down your frame as he appraises you. Despite the relaxed state his attire provides, his expression is as serious as ever. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of the worn flannel pants he’s sporting, but it does little to make him look anything other than intimidating.

He raises a brow, tilting his head as he looks at you, watching you save your work and then turn to face him. “Don’t ‘yes, Jayson dear’ me, smartass.”

You snort, moving off of the chair and stretching out, the cracks in your back loud enough for him to purse his lips at. “Well aren’t you sour this fine morning.”

Jason scoffs, narrowing his eyes. “It’s four am.” He mutters, crossing the kitchen to get to the coffee pot. He doesn’t really need the caffeine, but he likes the routine. He grabs a mug from one of the cabinets, filling it up with black coffee. He’d just snuck back in after his patrol, not expecting to see you up.

“And I’m not sour,” he says a bit petulantly, taking a sip of the coffee before setting it aside. “I’m concerned.”

Your brow raises higher, turning to the worn down clock practically glued to the wall from all the times you’ve both hit it to get the ticking sound to shut off. It’s a digital, why does it need to make such an annoying sound? “Huh. I guess it is.”

He rolls his eyes, not at all surprise that you would lose track of time so easily when you got lost in your writing. “Yeah, you do that sometimes,” he grumbles, taking another sip of coffee.

He looks you over, studying you intently as he crosses his arms. “How long have you been working?”

You hum, looking out the window into the polluted skies of Gotham. The sun had risen. “What answer will make you the least angry?”

“None of them,” Jason says, a scoff escaping his lips. His jaw twitches slightly as he watches you stare out the window, and he can’t help noticing how tired you look. He’s seen you like this before, pushing yourself to the brink just to finish a project, just to get everything perfect.

“How long?” he asks again, his voice a little softer this time.

“...” you sigh, looking away from the window to face him once more. “All night.” Before he can open his mouth to reprimand you, you cut in. “But! My project is due today. And Tim will decapitate me if I’m late on another assignment...” You rub the side of your face tiredly, displaying an uneven smile.

Jason’s annoyance melts away into concern as you speak. He can tell you’re exhausted, and the thought of you pushing yourself so hard for so long makes him want to wrap you up in a blanket and force you to take a nap.

But he can’t do that. Not when you’re an adult, not when you’re not actually his little sibling. Yet. He settles for crossing the kitchen and putting a hand on your shoulder. “You need to take care of yourself,” he says firmly. “You won’t be any good to your professor if you pass out from exhaustion.”

You grin softly and give a tired nod, fishing out your phone to check the university’s time table. “I only have to go in at nine forty.”

“And then you only have to endure a full day of classes,” Jason says dryly, narrowing his eyes. He gently takes your phone out of your hand and tucks it into his pocket. “No more work until then.”

Your eyes widen at the action, quickly scrambling to get the device back. “You– Jay!” You huff, leaning back against the hard counter. His gaze set sternly on you. You feel small under his gaze, as if he’s your father disappointed in you for stealing a tenner.

Jason crosses his arms once more, his eyes never leaving your face. Looking like the definition of a disapproving older brother. “No,” he says firmly, his voice stern. “You need to rest. I can’t have you passing out in the middle of class.”

He takes a step closer, looming over you as he stares you down. “You’re gonna take a nap, and then you’re gonna eat a proper breakfast. Got it?”

You can do nothing but glare. Cursing under your breath and walking past him. You’ll have to complain to Tim about this later.

He watches you stalk past him, a smirk on his face. He can practically hear you swearing at him in your head. He takes a moment to finish off his coffee before following you into the living room.

“What, no clever comeback? No witty remark?” he teases, leaning against the wall and watching you storm into the living room. “Are you actually listening to me for once?”

You make a show of laying down on his red beanbag, tugging the blanket off of the couch to drape over your form and throwing up the middle finger at him.

Jason can’t help but chuckle at your childish display. He moves towards you slowly, stopping when he’s close enough to look down at your face. He crouches down beside you, a smirk on his lips. He places your laptop on the table opposite you and your phone next to it.

“Real mature, kid.” He says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He ruffles your hair then stands, descending back into the kitchen. “I’ll wake you up an hour before you gotta leave, don’t worry.”

You sigh, mimicking him in an exaggeratedly high pitched voice. “I’ll wake you up an hour before you have to leave, mehmeheh.”

No use of y/n, currently gn leaning towards male.

Things to note: reader is unaware that the Batfamily members are related yet, age is young adult (19-20), everyone is aged up.

Any questions or feedback is appreciated.

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likesomeoneinlovee · 8 months ago

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An Artist’s Way

pairing: Arthur Morgan x F!reader

Word Count: 10k

Summary: You run into Arthur while on an errand in Saint Denis while he invites you to come with him to Charles Châtenay's gallery. Afterwards you two go out for a drink, then eventually to a local hotel where you find out Arthur had been drawing you in Charles' "style"

Warnings: smut with plot HEAVILY based off the game's mission - Reader briefly mentioned to be a virgin, fingering, unprotected PIV sex, riding, creampie, oral sex M!receiving + F!receiving. Younger woman reader, Arthur's a big boy, canon that he grabs the headboard sorry not sorry.

Author’s Note: Based on the stranger mission: '”an artist's way” in CH4!

More and more you’ve found yourself becoming the gang’s “errand boy”.

This was often Arthur’s job, though he’s been gone more often now, either on bounty’s or doing the dirty work in the gang. So Dutch had you do the clean work. You’d say you didn’t mind it, the running around at least, after all it was one of your only excuses to get away from camp. You’d jump when Pearson needed more herbs or vegetables from the store or if Dutch needed some cigars. You usually went to Saint Denis most of the time, it was the closest to camp after all -and something about running these errands in the city made you feel right at home. The gang was a downgrade from growing up in the city of course, still not completely used to it: the running, it was as if every time you were comfortable everyone had to pack up and move to a whole new location. Hell, sometimes it means crossing states.

You had just walked back to your horse after buying some goods from the general store across the street, packing your purchases into the saddle bags of your hitched horse -some canned fruits and vegetables, cigarettes as per request from most of the people in camp, and some ammo Dutch asked for, just to stock up I suppose. As you worked on buttoning the flap to the saddle bag back down, making sure none of your goods would be seen by people walking by, after all you spent your hard earned -ahem, stolen money- on those things, you could’ve sworn you heard a man ask for directions, a man with a voice as familiar to you as you own.

You looked over your shoulder to see the man, the sandy brown locks under the gambling hat told you enough, why was Arthur in the city? You didn’t think Dutch had any chores for him today, thus why he asked you to go to the store. He held a small card in his hand, looking from the back of it before his gaze fell back on the woman passing, the one he had asked for directions. Once he got them he’d nod to the woman, eyes falling back onto the card as she walked off.

You’d pat your horse on the neck before walking onto the sidewalk where Arthur stood, he didn’t notice you til’ you tapped on his shoulder. “Arthur?” You were sure he nearly jumped out of his skin. If your voice wasn’t so familiar he probably would’ve elbowed you out of pure defense.

“Christ–! you tryin’ to kill me sneakin’ up on me like that?” He’d pause for a moment as if his brain finally processed that it was you. “The hell are you doing here anyway?”

“Good news, you’ve been replaced.”

“Wha–” His brows would furrow together as his mind cranked to figure out your meaning, that was until you pulled your little shopping list out from the satchel swung over your shoulder. “Oh, that.”

Of course he couldn’t care less about being ‘replaced’ in that department. It was usually a pain in his ass –And honestly you were a pain in his ass too. It’s not that he didn’t like you, you were just ultimately too spunky for his nature. He’d gladly admit you were a good shot, a good killer. So with that you made a good member for this gang. Personality wise he couldn’t help but wince at your jokes while others would laugh, the tiniest amount of attitude that laced each of your sentences. He wasn’t one to like immaturity, especially from someone who was an adult. Though, you were barely even that.

“Have fun runnin’ around with that list of yours then. Seems you’re really movin’ on up.” He’d scorn.

He’d look down at the card in his hands, then back up to look around his surroundings.

“Do you know where this is?”

He handed you the card, the finished paper now warm from him holding it for so long now against your fingertips. It was an address to one of the buildings on this street, you were surprised he hadn’t realized by now.

“That woman didn’t tell you? It’s right on this street.”

“No.” He’d roll his eyes. “She looked at me like I lost my mind.”

You’d snicker at that, now walking down the sidewalk with him, both of your boots clicking against the stone sidewalk. Then you stopped in front of the brick building. ”Here, I think.” You’d give that card one last look, noticing the name on the back of the card, you’d squint to see if you were reading it right -Charles Châtenay? you could’ve sworn I heard that name–

My eyes flicked up to the poster on the side of the brick, looks like it was what I thought after all. I usually pick up the paper when I go this route. The route of aimlessly following Dutch’s list as I walk or ride around the city, gives me something to read when I get back to Shady Belle. Seems the artist had an open gallery today. you couldn’t help but snort, the thought of you, Arthur Morgan going to an art gallery full of practically- well, pornography, now that just might be the funniest damn thing you’ve heard all week. -Your immaturity was truly striking.

“Mr. Morgan, Mr. Morgan.” You’d snark. Of course when Arthur wasn’t acting like the man he was -the same man with five-thousand dollars on his head alone, the same who’s murdered more than a person could fathom he was just your regular ol’ suck up.

“Don’t start with that now, I’m already annoyed I gotta go to this thing.” He tapped his boot onto the sidewalk, taking that card back from you and putting it back into his satchel. “Well, ‘less you wanna come in with me. You’d have a field day with this kinda thing. Châtenay seems like a man who’d entertain you anyway.”

You’d think it over for a moment, you could hear chatter already coming from the windows of the building that were open just a crack. Surely you’d find entertainment in it but you were also fond of the arts as well. Though paintings of women laid out nude wouldn’t strike something in you as it would in a man, you’d be surprised if you were the only woman in that building other than the ones on canvas. –At least this would bring some entertainment to your day.

“I’ll keep you company. Lead the way– or, shall I? Seeing you’re horrible with directions.”

“Up the stairs and to the right.” He’d recite the directions written on the back of that card. “I think I can remember that.”

You two walked into the building together, up the stairs and to the right and you were there. The first hall was filled with sculptures, beautiful paintings hung against the blue walls, the next room you two stepped in was Châtenay’s, you and Arthur’s gaze met with women’s breasts and men’s cocks painted with oils on the canvases. It surely was– something. Arthur tugged his collar to clear his throat.

The room had more of a variety of guests than you thought, actually more women than men which came as a shock up until you realized these women were actually the models conversing with the other models. They seemed quite proud of their work, respectably so. Arthur had spotted the french artist across the room chatting one of the models up, he wouldn’t want you to get mixed up in his own charades so Arthur would squeeze your shoulder for your attention just for a moment.

“Why don’t you stay here, pretend to be a model or sumthin’, princess. Wouldn’t want you to get your ear talked off by Charles.”

Your eyes fell on the french artist as he stood distracted across the room, you could barely hear nor understand the words that he was blabbering out through his thick french accent. Something told you maybe it was a good idea for Morgan to handle what he’s gotten himself into with this man before you were stuck talking to someone you could hardly understand, stuck replying with ‘mhm’s’ and ‘uh-huh’s’ as if you knew what he was saying. Although you’d feel a bit awkward standing there and staring at the intimate paintings of both men and women while standing in the same room as the people being portrayed in oil, it’d probably be best for you at least, you were only here to keep Arthur company and today you felt you’d be less of a nuisance to him by obeying his wishes.

“Sure thing.”

You watched as Arthur walked away from you all the way to the other side of the gallery leaving you alone with the model’s dressed in their elegant, expensive attire that you could only dream of owning. And unfortunately due to the paintings you now know what’s under the rich clothing.

– That evening only got more interesting from there on. It was quite ridiculous, you and Arthur couldn’t have been there for more than fifteen minutes before all hell started to break loose. The husbands and wives of the models had practically raided the building before shouting at their spouses, you couldn’t really tell what was happening between Châtenay being attacked by the men and the women, being hit with a variety of chairs, purses, and of course, fists. Before things could get out of hand with you in the mix Arthur came over to you. He had a wide smile on his face, could’ve sworn this was the first time you’ve seen him laugh so hard he had developed tears in the corners of his eyes.

“You should probably get outta here before you get in the mix of fists, sweetheart–” His voice quickly cut off by a crash as he escorted you out of the gallery. “Wait outside.” He’d pat your shoulder, leaving you standing at the top of the stairs as he left to go help the artist.

“Sure– thing.” It was like that turned into your only response.

You didn’t really have time to leave with a jest, or something more than two words, not to be a pussy but you really didn’t feel like being hit by a stray flying chair, so you just walked down the stairs and back outside. You’d laugh to yourself as you walked down the street and away from that brick building, of course the highlight of the day only lasted a short moment, it was quick and rushed, but really you didn’t need to stare at those paintings any longer than you already have. -You felt as if Charles or the gallery wouldn’t be mentioned or thought of again, at least in this moment. But you’d be wrong about that. -The sun was setting now, it looked beautiful against all the buildings that made up the city, you found a bench to sit on, figured you’d read that paper you got earlier while you waited for Arthur. Your eyes would skim the words but nothing would really register.

A little while had gone by and after the sun finally set, the stars scattered against the dark sky as you stayed patiently waiting on that wooden –and quite uncomfortable bench, constantly finding yourself adjusting and shifting to get more comfortable, ‘course it didn’t work . You heard footsteps, looking up from the newspaper you felt you read about a hundred times by now out of pure boredom you were relieved to see that it was Arthur.

“Jesus, I thought you’d never come back. Why’d you take so long?”

“Had to escort the dumbass home so he didn’t get killed. Seems he had a whore waiting for him an’ everythin’.”

You’d let out a short breath at that, not quite a laugh, you felt your body getting a bit tired but you quickly shook off the feeling, rubbing your eyes with the back of your palm before standing from the bench, leaving the paper behind you, you had a bit of a ride back to Shady Belle, wouldn’t want to fall asleep on the back of your horse. You also had to get all that food and goods you bought back to the camp –though you weren’t quite sure how urgent we needed the provision.

You and Arthur started walking down the sidewalk, side-by-side, the night air now nipping at your skin through the thin fabric of your blouse. It had been too long without a good tease from you to purposely annoy him, clearing your throat to prepare to speak.

“How do you know that artist anyway?”

He’d look down at you as he walked, that was a fair question to ask.

“I met him in the saloon –not the big one down the street here, the smaller one. Don’t know if you’ve ever been there.”

You’d shrug. “I’ve passed by it.”

Arthur would nod. “Met him in there and somehow he convinced me to go to that little show. Gave one of his–” He'd stop his words looking down at you before shaking his head.

“Nevermind”

Charles gave him one of his many artworks, a nude woman, an illustration that he embarrassingly kept safely in his satchel since. And now he’d especially not want to tell you, you were already amused that he even went to the damn show which he himself had more fun that he should’ve. Though, to mention, he didn’t start having fun til’ Châtenay was getting his ass handed to him.

You on the other hand were now dying to know what he gave Arthur, –can’t just start a sentence without finishing it. You had a feeling begging him for the answer wouldn’t work of course, you’d try anyway.

“Oh come onnnnnn.” You sneered. “M’sick of you doing that, you’ve been on this earth long enough to realize you can’t just start a sentence without finishing.”

‘N’ I’ve known you long enough to know I shouldn’t be givin’ you any more reasons to laugh at me.”

“I don’t– laugh,” You’d scoff. “Five months isn’t long either, you barely know me.”

Morgan let out a sigh, tying to think of a good excuse to kinda brush away what he said. Something to finish the sentence he started. “He gave me some money, paid me to go to that exhibit. Don’t want you goin’ around thinkin’ I’m a pervert who went for a good time.”

You’d look up to him after he said that. If that’s all it was –money. “I wasn’t thinkin’ that.”

Well, maybe it crossed your mind once or twice. But then again why would he stop himself from saying that? Right now you couldn’t bother to make sense of it, you just shrugged it off. –Now the walk was silent for the most part, there wasn’t really anything to say. Once you got to your horse you’d pat the saddle bag, feeling that your goods hadn’t been stolen, letting out a sigh before turning back to Arthur.

“We should both get back to camp before someone gets worried.”

Really, you didn’t know who would get worried, you’ve stayed the night at a hotel in the city more times than you could count just so you could sleep in a comfortable bed ‘stead of your worn, hard cot.

“No one will be worried. Come on I’m the one who made you stay out here longer than you intended, I’ll buy you a whiskey or sumthin’.”

You’d look at him, almost surprised to hear the offer. It was rare for him to be sweet, if that was the right word for offering you a drink. It sounded good, the thought alone of the cool alcohol burning down your throat already waking you up a bit more than you were.

“That’d– that’d be nice.”

Not too long after those words were shared you and Morgan had made it into the saloon, the faint playing of the piano heard from across the street now loud along with the chatter between people sitting and eating at their tables to the men around their table playing poker. Since it was a bit later in the day –the night now fully taking its course, it was like a signal for men and women alike to flood the saloon. You and Arthur had found a booth to be separated from the crowd at least a little bit. You both set your satchels down on the corners of your seats, Arthur’s finger tapping against the finished wood that made up the table before he took out a cigarette from his satchel along with his lighter, flicking the flame before holding it against his cigarette to light it, Adjusting to stuff the lighter conveniently into the pocket of his pants, inhaling the tobacco into his lungs before blowing the smoke away from the booth.

“I’ll get up, get us some drinks.”

“Mhm.” You’d hum as you watched him shift out of the booth, walking away to go to the bar. You’d notice something in his empty space, a piece of paper had fallen out of his satchel. You didn’t think anything of it of course, didn’t bother reaching over to put it back in for him. Curiosity killed the cat.

A few minutes later Arthur came back with a couple bottles, sitting back down into the leather seats of the booth with a sigh, the bottles clinking against the table as he placed them down.

“Thanks.” You'd nod, popping the cork out the bottle with your thumb.

“Just two beers, don’t wanna get too drunk, not here.”

Boy, was he wrong.

After those two beers Arthur had gotten up again to get another. Once beers were out he went to whiskey. One whiskey was out he grabbed any alcohol they had at that bar. Two turned into four. Four turned into six, –eight… Ten.. Fuck.

To be fair you didn’t have as many drinks as Arthur deciding to play responsible tonight, but it was still enough.

The once clean table turned into a mess of empty bottles, glasses, Arthur’s cigarettes and the ashes from made a mess of the ashtray pushed to the side of the table. Random splashes of golden liquid dripped on the table. Now piss drunk in a booth with an also piss drunk Morgan was… Actually a real fuckin’ good time. A peep could escape your lips and Arthur could double over the table with laughter, same with you.

One idiotic conversation after another you finally thought of it again even through your drunken haze –whatever that artist ‘gave him’ to persuade him into going to the gallery. Why was it clawing at you so much? You usually weren’t so interested in him or his life. Maybe it was because you knew he was blatantly lying to you.

“Now– you tell me the hell that– that artist gave you– remember?”

Finishing the sentence with a hiccup you’d look back at Arthur. Now since you both were a couple more shots away from passing out onto the sea of glasses that made up the table, both of your tongues were loose, of course.

He let out a laugh, shaking his head as he reached into his satchel. “Goddamn, guess you know how to loosen a man up–” He pulled out that piece of paper that was earlier peeking out from the top of the leather. “--Gave me this pretty little drawin’. Ain’t she a fuckin’ ‘beaut, eh?”

The picture he slid over to you from the other side of the table was a photograph of a nude woman of course, her bare breasts on a perfect display as she perched on a chair. You couldn’t help but laugh, was he really carrying this around all this time? Sure– that creep of a man could truly draw, but Arthur wasn’t one to keep aimless gifts close to him, definitely not directly in his satchel for safe keepings –though you couldn’t imagine what he was actually doing with this picture. If it’s what you thought that would be pretty damn pathetic.

“He surely can draw– that man–” You’d slur, sliding the illustration back to Arthur, wasn’t something you really needed to study. “--Now, you don’t–” You’d clear your throat “Surely you don’t–”

“Now princess, I’d need a lot more than a sketch for that.”

You’d laugh, his words melted right off his tongue from the alcohol. Right now you couldn’t even force yourself to think anything of the words he was saying, and anyway, the thought of a man –even Arthur jerking off to a measly sketch of a woman sounded more unappealing than something that’d get you going. Why would it anyway? Arthur was– well, he was Arthur. You’d often be cautious to even call him a friend of yours. Though right about now in the haze of booze that clouded your brain and same his, he’d most definitely call you his friend as an introduction at least.

The music, the chatter, the yelling and hollering in the saloon was echoing through your head. You were sure the pianist practically banging on the keys of the piano would split your ears open if you stayed in that place any longer –you’d ignore it for now, hell maybe even another drink would solve that problem.

“...I didn’t need to know that information.” You’d finally get past your lips with another giggle, slouching over the table with that damned empty bottle still in your grasp, being swung around to enunciate all your sentences.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, he couldn’t help the grin that pulled at his lips –blame the brandy for that. He leaned back into the leather seats of the booth, his arm lazily draped onto the table, tapping his finger against the glass bottle he held –completely empty.

“You asked.”

He shrugged, taking a long sip from the glass bottle, savoring the feeling of the cool liquid slipping down his throat, feeling unnecessarily in love with the burning. You’d pout, tap your finger against the bottle you held, but the corners of your lips betrayed you, a smirk quickly replaced how your bottom lip would stick out from your top.

“Didn't expect an answer– not like that–” You’d hic, “–not from you.”

“What are you– drawin’ these types of things too? Psh– maybe you needed the reference.” You’d mock him, that brought a scoff from his lips as if you just said something so fucking absurd, he shook his head, slamming his bottle back down onto the wooden table as you swirled your empty bottle around the table. His gaze was seemingly stuck on the table as if he was examining the grooves and knots in the wood, running his finger along the imperfections.

“No, I–” His voice was conveniently cut off by a bang coming from one of the tables, more loud hollering, yelling –looks like someone won a poker game at least, the table surrounded by wasted men, all a bit too excited to be here tonight. Arthur was clearly getting antsy and the alcohol was even clouding your vision.

Imagine a radio overlapping ten different songs over each other and now replace the songs with the not-so pleasant sounds of men who’d been guzzling booze all night screaming over losing their money by their own stupid and idiotic decisions, women cackling over the city’s pointless gossip– that damn piano! You were ready to smash your beer bottle over the pianist’s head–

You tried to take a swig from your empty bottle before tossing it onto the table with the others. With a groan Arthur buried his face into his worked palms, he seemed just as sick of it as well.

“Goddamn–” He’d groan. His hands pressing harder into his face as if he was desperately trying to wipe away the noise. “Fuck. Fuck…”

You two just couldn’t stand it anymore.

So, why stand it?

You and Morgan made it out of the bar successfully without beating someone with one of the bottles from the mess you had carelessly left on the table –you two getting out of there in time for the bartender to say anything. Swinging your satchels over your shoulders you two left the godforsaken noisebox that saloon had turned on, now all the ‘’hootin’ ‘N’ hollerin’,, was a faint sound heard from the distance as you walked down the sidewalk.

You rubbed your temple with the pad of your thumb, feeling a little better now without all the over fucking excitement.

“Gah– fuck.” Arthur would lean up against the brick building beside him, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand before looking forward, noticing the lit sign for the hotel in the distance. It was quite obvious you two wouldn’t want to be riding your horse back to camp right now. Morgan checked his pocket watch, the arms of the clock pointing to 11:35. ‘Kay, not too late.

“You don’t wanna ride all the way to camp right now, do ya?” His voice deeper than normal from all the drinking, the slurring.

“Not particularly,”

With a pause your head turned to the sign of the hotel, it’d be better just to go right straight there, once again you might’ve gone it anyway tonight just for that comfortable bed that comes with the deal –Hell, two dollars could get you a bed with two rooms if you’re lucky enough.

A hum escaped your throat as you nodded. “I–”

“Dont– don’t worry I’ll be payin’”

As if you didn’t have two dollars to spare you perked up a bit at that. Guess it was all you needed to hear.

No more excuses, you’d be spending the night with this drunken fool.

You two both were wobbly on your feet, of course with the amount of shots and bottles practically swallowed whole you could go figure that. You walked into the front doors as you tried to adjust your clothes, Arthur pushed his hat up so it wouldn’t be slouched over his eyes.

“Ah, may I help you two?” The clerk at the front desk had one of those fake overexaggerated smiles on his face.

“Just lookin’ for a room to stay the night. Nothin’ special.” He’d clear his throat, trying to shake off the drunken slur that was making his voice. “Two beds.”

Of course he had to clarify that– er, it only made sense anyway. It’d be really awkward if you and Arthur had to share a–

“Sorry, we don’t have rooms with two beds here.”

Shit.

Well it was logical at least, why would they? Let’s think. Who actually gets hotel rooms – commonly it’s men who’ve bought themselves a whore for the night or someone looking for a place to rest on their ventures. Not often you have two drunken outlaws stumbling in asking for two beds.

“Fine. M’That’s just– fine.”

Arthur would pass some money over the desk to the man behind, in exchange he received a key to the room.

“Upstairs, first room to your left, enjoy the stay folks.”

Jesus, you could’ve sworn that smile was melting off that clerk’s face as he spoke. You’d rub your temple again as you and Arthur just said a quick ‘’thank you,, in unison.

Both of your boots would stomp heavily up the stairs. – upstairs first room to your left. Once there you turned to it, Arthur put the key in, turned it, opened the door. The rusted hinges creaked as it opened, though despite that sound the door opened to reveal a very nice looking hotel room. The bed was made, a thick quilt and were those– satin pillows?

Surely this was paradise.

Arthur’s eyes looked around the room, other than the bed, a dresser in front, couple nightstands and an oil lamp to give the room a nice warm light –there was an arm chair pushed to the side of the room.

“I’ll take the chair.”

He groaned as he shimmied his coat off of his shoulders, lazily throwing it onto the arm of the chair. Now with this action he also removed his satchel, it hit the nightstand by the bed, narrowly missing the lamp and hitting the edge before his palms met with his forehead again.

“M’gonna try to find a bathroom in this place–”

You’d let a scowl cross your mouth as he said that, watching as he stumbled out the door, closing it behind him.

Well, at least you could get some peace and quiet– is what you would say if there wasn’t the sound of the bed creaking clearly from rocking back and forth and a quick pace wasn’t coming from behind the drywall of your own room. Whatever, somehow that could be easily ignored by you.

You did notice something more interesting than that though –something you couldn’t seemed to ignore: Arthur’s satchel had fallen from where he had thrown it, landing onto the floor as all his things fell all of it –a mess of papers and money, a couple packs of cigarettes too. You’d click your tongue as you went to pick it up, noticing his journal had fallen out too.

You crouched down to start putting his things back into the leather bag, the money, the cigarettes, though your hands lingered on the worn leather back of his journal for a bit longer than they should’ve.

No, you shouldn’t.

But what if you just– one peak wouldn’t hurt.

Arthur would probably take a while anyway figuring he went to presumably empty his body of all the alcohol he had drank in just one evening.

Though as you looked more at the mess on the ground below your knees you’d notice the papers more, one was right side up but underneath the journal, so you’d lift it. Doing so revealed the full drawing done in pencil–

A sketch of a nude woman much like one Châtenay had drawn. But this one– it seemed different. There was more detail, more fluidity to the art, it looked all the more real. Down to the freckles drawn down the valley of her breasts.

You flipped over another stray paper, this one of the same. A naked woman, her breasts on full display, detailed. You’d flip another

And then another.

You’d open his journal.

Flipping through the pages where he’s drawn various things, trees, animals, beautiful scenery of places he’s traveled with the locations written in the corners, some pages filled with chicken scratch of his thoughts– you’d pay no mind to those. You started to notice the pages that were ripped out from his journal yet kept in, more drawings.

Were you going crazy or did these drawings turn from your average woman with long wavy locks and bright eyes to– you…?

You felt a coil in your gut as you looked down at the images, not the bad kind of coil that you’d get while you’re being chased by an armed man or the kinda coil you’d get as a kid when your parents caught you stealing from the cookie jar– no, you could tell it wasn’t that kind from the additional heat that pooled in your tummy.

Your breathing would pick up, your eyebrows knitted closely as you looked down at these drawings. Your eyes. Your lips. Your nose. Quite obviously your hair too–

Fuck. You were beginning to hear footsteps stumbling down the hallway. You’d quickly shove the contents of his satchel back in, you surely didn't have time to worry about where everything went– if it’d just fall out again, if he’d notice it had been ran and rummaged through. Once it was all in there you quickly latched the button and placed it back on the nightstand, quickly standing from your knees as soon as he opened the door.

“Hi–”

How could a two letter greeting sound guilty as ever?

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as a grunt escaped the back of his throat, though now looking at him maybe you didn’t wish you were as drunk as him right now –even if it probably meant you’d be forgetting about those drawings by now, maybe you’d just brush it off.

He closed the door behind him as he coughed into his fist, gently guiding you out of the way so he could get to the satchel on the nightstand–

Fuck.

As he undid the button he reached in to grab a packet of cigarettes when he noticed one of them was missing.

“You take one of these?”

He’d say, popping the last one of the packet actually still in his satchel between his lips before lighting it.

“What– no! No– I don’t smoke…”

He’d look at you with his half-lidded gaze he’s had since the saloon, furrowing his brows at your reaction, frazzled for no good reason.

“Christ, girl. You don’t take your liquor well.”

That was funny, you’d think it was the other way around.

“I think it’s quite the opposite, Arthur.”

You’d see his gaze shift to the floor as he looked around, where could’ve that pack gone? He was sure he had a second one– no, he knew he had a second one since he just went out and bought it earlier in the day and– Ah, there it was. Halfway to being pushed completely under the bed Arthur bent to pick it back up. He was too delirious to think of why it even got there.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you looked at him, his body– those fingers that you now knew were once holding a pencil to paper, sketching you, what he imagined to be underneath those pretty blouses you wore, those skirts that stopped at your ankles.

This was killing you. Even though you hadn’t said a word to him you still felt like you were lying to him, deceiving him. You never had a problem with that before anyway, why start now?

You knew what else you always were –that damn loud, snarky girl he always hated to be around. The one who’d let any words leave her mouth without a thought and now you’re here, standing in silence, you’d think your mouth was sewn shut.

Under the shadow of the bed Arthur saw something else– a paper.

Shit.

He tapped his boot on top of it and dragged it out, the sound of the paper sliding across the wooden floor heightened your senses again. Course it was one of those drawings, those drawings. It was his turn for his heart to rapidly thump against his ribs.

“Fuck.” You’d hear him groan as he bent down to pick up that paper now, looking it over, it wasn’t one of the drawings of you, one of the quick sketches of a woman he hadn’t named.

“You didn’t–”

…

“I did.”

The room fell silently quickly after that, how could it not? There was no point of you mustering up a flustered, messy defense in a long drawn out blabber that’d escape your lips so you’d just admit it. It wasn’t nothing you did wrong anyway. Arthur sighed, rubbing his hand over his face once more as he shoved the drawing back into his satchel, easily frustrated now he’d just crump it up into a ball before getting it into the leather bag. He braced his hands on the edge of the night stand, taking in a deep long breath before letting out an even deeper and even longer breath out.

You should say something– say something so he could look you in the eye.

“I– didn’t ask for those.”

“I know.” He’d breathe.

“I didn’t even realize you considered us friendly– I had no clue you–”

“I know.”

Your fingers would twitch at your sides, swallowing hard.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me…”

At first in his head those words sounded– like they could be angry, it might’ve been his brain telling him that. Then he heard that tone– that almost breathless tone in your voice. He finally got the courage back to look you in the eyes, his fingers peeling away from the edge of that nightstand, if his nails dug into the finished wood any harder he would’ve left indents.

“You should be angry with me.”

“I’m not. I mean– I couldn’t be farther from that.”

You’d stop a moment, his breathing was heavy and so was yours. Arthur would push and twist his cigarette into the ashtray to put it out, blowing out the rest of the smoke through his nostrils with a suppressed, small cough.

“What are you then, princess?’

The name he had been calling you all day now sounding completely different in this heavy tone. You knew exactly what you were. Voicing that would be a little difficult. You felt if you did end up blurting something out it’d either kill the moment or kill him. His voice still had a slur to it from the alcohol, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Your own throat ran dry as you flicked your eyes to his plump, pink lips.

A man like Morgan knew what that look you gave meant, he’s had his own fair share of whores over the years, working girls were his usual go-to after Mary at least, before too. I mean, Christ, the man had himself a son once he knew what your eyes alone were saying.

“Why don’t you find out…” You’d finally blurt.

His boots clicked against the ground as he walked close to you, his hand reaching out to cup the nape of your neck.

The way his face slowly, so carefully slowly moved towards yours you’d think he was going in for a slow, gentle capture of your lips– not quite.

His face twitched– leaving you with a brief flash of micro emotion before he would collide his lips against your own, his fingers curling and tangling in your locks of hair.

His tongue delved into your mouth before your own body got the chance to respond, your arms quickly wrapping around his neck as you moaned into the kiss. His hands slid down your shoulders, arms, the curve of your waist, hips, all the way down to your thighs, hands moving to the back of them to hoist you up against his body, his palms laid flat against your ass.

Your legs locked around his hips, finding difficulty to find a place to settle your hands as his tongue fucked your mouth, his shoulders? His arms? You’d eventually give them a home on his vest-covered chest, your fingernails digging into the black leather.

He could feel the denim of his pants stretch around his growing cock, he hoisted you higher, your clothed breasts practically at his lips now, those lips quickly parted from your lips to move down your neck, sucking at your pulse point.

You would never consider yourself noisy, not ever. Your life so far had never called for sex, sure men had given you their eyes, licking their lips seemingly to grab your attention but they never did, failing miserably instead of getting what they wanted from you. Playing with yourself was a lost cause but you’d count it as experience, the frustrated pumps of your own fingers into your pussy weren’t enough to draw pleasure, relieve the ache in your stomach, it only made it tighter.

Arthur had sucked a hickey into your skin, he made sure it’d be hidden by your hair since it was so far up on your neck. His roughened hands still would squeeze your ass cheeks, fingers working you like dough before giving it a quick, hard spank. Almost just muscle memory for him.

With a grunt he’d lower you two down onto the bed, his mouth quickly returned to yours with the same –nearly violent pace. The bulk of his muscles pressing into your more so petite form. His hand roamed your body – your legs, thighs, stomach, moving up to cup then squeeze your soft breast, the pad of his thumb teasing your budded nipple through the thin fabric of your blouse rewarding him with a moan from your sweet lips.

Just the feeling of his clothing rubbing against his body was driving him mad, ‘’uncomfortable,, couldn’t even express it anymore, it was hell. His hands reluctantly pulled away from you, at a quick pace his thick fingers undid the buttons of his heavy vest, when that was gone, quickly discarded to the floor he finally felt like he was gaining - at least some - of his breath back, now it was a matter of his shirt, quickly undoing the buttons of that next. Fuck, he needed you.

He needed you right fucking now.

He shimmied the shirt off of his shoulders, down the muscles of his arms before it dropped to the floor behind him –he was on top of you again. His hips bucked into yours quick and hard. Grinding. Rubbing.

Your hair would splay behind you on the bed, always thought in moments like this your eyes should be closed, that seemed like common knowledge, your half-lidded eyes still refused to fully close, especially now that his shirt was off. You’ve of course seen Morgan with his shirt off before, tending to his wounds, his cuts, bathing in the lake out by camp– close up like this it was different. His biceps pulsing as his hands braced on either side of your head, fingers curling into the blanket. Puffs of hard breaths would escape him, it was almost like a pattern before he’d grab you by the sides of your thighs tight.

Arthur would let himself fall back against the pillows that piled against the bed frame, dragging your body right onto his lap –now it was obvious how hard he was, that mass between his legs pulsating against your ass, your back pressed against his chest as he snaked an arm around you, quickly so fucking fast. He’d begin unbuttoning your blouse, tugging it right off of you, you were surprised he didn’t tear the fabric off of your pretty little body. His hands moved up, groping and squeezing your tits from behind, one of his hands moved down your body, down your sternum, stomach, and past the hem of your skirt, dripping your hand under it before his thick fingers found your panties.

Fucking hell you were soaked.

“Jesus christ… Fuckin’ hell you’re soaked…”

He’d grunt, he hadn’t spoken in a while, so focused on his movements, breathing. This was something he couldn’t ignore. He placed a kiss on your nape before his fingers would slide past your wet underwear, his hips involuntarily thrusting into your ass, squeezing your tit harder as he pushed two of his big fingers into your hot cunt. Your head lolled back against his shoulder as you practically squealed.

“Arthur–!”

Your mouth was wide open, sharp, sinful moans escaping from you as his fingers curled inside you, fuck. If you couldn’t even handle his fingers how would you handle his cock. You can only imagine how fucking big it was. Big hands, muscles, body, it’d be one of god’s greatest jokes if it didn’t live up to the rest of his body.

Your cunt would clench around his fingers- it had been this whole time. His fingernail scraped across the tip of your erect nipple again, you’d squirm in his arms, your own fingers digging into his massive biceps, the tip of your finger tracing the vein that ran down it, his muscle would twitch.

With a wet squelch from your tight pussy Arthur would withdraw his fingers from your walls, you weren’t finished. Wasn’t his concern. The coil in your gut felt like it’d burst any second, your cunt left throbbing, empty without the fill of his fingers.

He was gonna give you something better than his fingers.

“Lift up…”

His mouth was pressed against your ear feeling the hot breath fan onto your lobe. His hands gripped onto your hips, pulling that pretty dark skirt right down the length of your legs, you could hear the clinking of his belt behind you, making your ears perk.

“Up.”

Another command escaped his lips, you’d nod as you shakily got off of him, kneeled onto the bed. Arthur blew out the oil lamp on the bedside table, the room now lit by the paleness of the moonlight that shone through the windows, the curtains spread. It wasn’t like people would see anyway, though it’d be a good show.

Once he had unbuckled his belt he threw it to the ground– Arthur didn’t wear briefs, why would he? They caused him more discomfort, an extra layer of tightness to his balls and shaft. One tug of his work-pants and his hard, thick cock sprung from the confines of the black denim, the light from the window reflecting on the bead of precum that beaded off his cockhole. His size was impressive, sending a signal through your body– you couldn’t control yourself anymore. You ripped your underwear right off of that poor bundle of nerves that it protected, tossing the wet lace down onto the floor.

You practically crawled to him, his hands reached for your hips before pulling you on top of him, walking on your knees over him, his cock shooting straight up as it twitched with your pussy like it was fucking magnetic. You’d sink your body down onto the thickness, moaning his name as you sheathed him into your pulsating cunt. His hand wrapped around the headboard, gripping it for dear life as he pumped his way into you–

“Fuck!” Your hands braced on either one of his hips before one trailed up to his chest.

“That’s it– that’s fuckin’ it, princess.”

His thrusts quickened, his back arching up with each fast pound of his pelvis. His cock slipping deeper into your gummy walls with each snap. His dick curved inside of you, the head of his shaft kissing your g-spot, he felt so painfully good, your teeth bit into your thumb to try to muffle the sounds escaping your mouth, your body shaking.

You didn’t want to let yourself be this –a mess on top of him. Riding him. You had to gain some control even with his cock slapping inside of your sore hole. His eyes opening up, releasing the headboard to trail back to your breasts, those scarred, calloused hands - once again - giving the tender mounds another generous groping. Your hands would run to rest on top of his own big ones, the size of him consuming every sense –not only his dick, his hands, his body. Looking down and seeing the muscles in his stomach tense and twitch, his head arching backwards into the comfortable pillows behind. He was close. Surely you were too.

His hand ran to the small of your back as he helped you a bit, pushing himself up against the headboard so his body was lazily sat up now, your hips rolling back and forth into his as you ground down, making a loud, throaty moan release from the back of his throat, his balls slapped against your ass, now you’ve got it. Bouncing up and down on his cock leaving him with no mercy.

“You’re gonna make me cum, princess– you’re’mmmm–”

His eyes locked onto the sight of your perfect tits bouncing up and down as you took his cock, he felt his sack tighten up, that unbearable sensation deep in his gut, he was gonna cum. He needed to cum. Though you were still chasing that high as his fingers dug into your waist, your skin there raw and pink from the tight hold. The base of his cock rubbed against your clit, the coarse hair crowning it scratched against the sensitive, swollen bud, the sensation making you lose every bit of yourself to him.

With one more curved thrust from him you’d climax, your body collapsing over top of his as you did. Making sure to cry right into his ear. Your trembling fingers clawing and digging into the broad, tense muscles of his shoulders. His eyes rolling back into his skull as his orgasm followed yours, strings of hot semen coating your inner walls as he fucked it into you, making your pussy milk out every hot, thick rope of cum, his head falling foreward between the valley of those pretty tits he’d been admiring all night.

“Oh fuck, princess.”

His voice wavered as he tried desperately to catch his breath back though it seemed it’d all been stolen from his lungs.

“Oh, Arthur…”

That desperate whine squeaked from your lips. A kiss was planted on your clavicle before he’d guide you so you were underneath him again, careful not to jar you too much after all he was well aware of how hard he had just fucked that tight little hole of yours. He’d pull his shaft out from those walls that were spasmed around him just a second ago, watching all that access, hot seed spill out from your pink petals.

Did you think that was it? Surely you had to return the favor.

Arthur had a cigarette lit and hanging from his lips that were wet with his own salvia, your head between his legs bobbing up and down on that thick cock that was still coated with your own juice. His fingers tangled up in your hair, fucking your mouth with the same force as he had with your cunt just moments ago. The cigarette in his hot mouth was the only thing suppressing his noises, taking it between his fingertips just to let out a loud long moan.

You’d gag when his swollen tip hit the back of your throat unexpectedly, your hands digging into his thighs as your eyes held close so fucking tight tears welled up in them, making your vision blurry as you looked up at Arthur, eyes closed, puffing on that cigarette. Your left hand went to wrap around your base as you pulled him nearly completely out of your mouth, your lips still wrapped around his cockhead, your tongue tracing his hole.

“Goooooood fuckin’ girl… Keep going–”

Your hand jerked him off now as your abused throat got to catch a break, though it’d still need to be put up to work, hm? You hopped onto his thigh as your hand now caressed his chest, trickling your fingers down his thick chest hair that covered the tan skin. Your thumb teased his red hot tip, before you kept rolling your hand up and down –he was close, you now leaned to tell when that vein that ran down his low stomach all the way down to the middle of his shaft began to twitch and pump you’d get to milk the man dry a second time. A mix of your drool and his precum dripping down his length.

Your fist tightened around him as your mouth locked with his as he held the smoking cigarette between his forefinger and his middle, his hand wrapping in your hand to the nape of your neck, hips bucking into your palm, he cums again. Hard. Right into your fist.

Arthur was panting like a damn dog, you had jerked him off just right to get his legs to tremble as they spread for you. He broke away from your mouth to catch his breath that you stole from him. You trailed a kiss to his neck, he had been marking you all night you thought it was only fair to give him some too, sucking a purple mark into his skin before trailing your mouth down.

“Good girl— good fuckin’ girl…” He was a mess.

His praise was always a godsend to you, ringing through your ears, you craved it. Your tongue ran down his collar, his shoulder, then down his arm, those pulsing muscles that were smooth to the touch, glistening with his sweat. The way his chest began heaving heavily as you traced the thick vein that ran down his bicep with your tongue.

Receiving was something that his body needed. But giving was something that he craved. Just hearing the sweet moans and cries from a woman’s mouth as it hung agape was something that could get him off more times at just the thought of than a blowy.

–Though now your legs were on his shoulders as he pumped his tongue into your walls, running it up and down your slit as he - messily - ate your pussy, he was starving for it after all. Your back was arching upwards but his hands were too occupied holding your ankles to the dips of his shoulders to touch you anywhere else, his nose pressed against your clit –even his nose could find work. Your pants were hot and labored, all you can let out those sharp, gorgeous whines of his name, the one you’ve grown so accustomed to.

“Arthur!”

Again.

“Fuck- fuck, Arthur–!”

His name learned to roll off your tongue like honey, it seemed to be becoming the thing that came natural to you in life. He loved it, his mouth sucking feverishly at your clit, he knew all those sweet-spots, you weren’t a religious girl, - if you were you wouldn’t be in your right mind to let Arthur do these truly sinful things to you - but you’d thank god to every whore, every woman that taught him these tricks.

Your thighs would squeeze his head til’ it was about ready to pop, though that’s just what Arthur wanted, mumbling praise into your sweet, slick folds as his fingers moved into the mix too, forcing your body to that high you’d been desperately chasing, the pad of his finger pressing against one of your soft spots.

You’d cum hard on his face, your glistening climax now coated his beard as he removed his face from your thighs, looking at your heaving, shaking body now beneath him. Resting your legs down he’d slowly lower himself back onto you, his lips kissing from your navel to your lips, his body - and yours, of course - finally feeling a bit heavy.

“You’re too good f’me, girl…”

At the moment there was not enough oxygen in your lungs to give him a vocal response, you’d just nod, your cheeks flushed a pale pink. His hand moved to brush some hair away from your face, strands stuck to your cheeks, forehead, it was a sight for him. He’d pick you up, pulling you to sit in his lap as he held you to a tight embrace, nipping and kissing at your neck. He was so needy for you.

The night had settled, only a bit. You found yourself tucked in Arthur’s arm with the warm quilt thrown on the hotel bed covering your bodies, both sore and spent.

Arthur had been flipping through the pages of his journal now, it only felt right to shamelessly show you the works he’s done of you now, of course those were only a couple.

“I stopped doin’ them for a while now… Most of them was from when I was drunk. Foolish.”

He’d explain, though it didn’t seem like it needed an explanation anymore, you didn’t care after all though you appreciated it. Your hand would reach out to touch the page, feeling the rough paper beneath your fingertips.

“I don’t mind…”

“Yeah well, maybe now you can model f’me, hm?… I’m always better working with a reference.”

You couldn’t help but giggle.

“It's a date then.”

You two had both fallen asleep shortly after, his sweet praises in your ear til your body was limp against his own, his fingers combing through your hair —a moment of intimacy and peace like this after he had fucked you so thorough. Not a thought of worry in your pretty little head.

'Cept maybe how the ride back was gonna feel on that soreness between your legs–

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redc0ree · 11 days ago

Text

Like an Animal

Vampire Kris x GN Reader

4k words

Desc: You’re the first real human to move into town, and Kris is made painfully aware of you

Tags: Monsters don’t bleed (we’re ignoring that one scene in ch4), Vampire Kris, This is basically just one big Twilight reference, MC is a little bit of a dumbass, Everybody is a dumbass in this story

CW: Blood (obviously) and some suggestive themes.

When you were first told that you would be moving into a monster town, you were scared out of your mind.

You’ve lived around monsters in your old city, but you didn’t know what to expect being one of the only humans there, standing out like a sore thumb.

But the mayor assured you that you wouldn’t be the only one.

Apparently, there was another human there who was around your age.

That relieved some of your nerves, it also gave you some excitement about who they were.

That excitement faded quickly.

It has now been three months since you’ve first moved in. Surprisingly, you fit in quickly, finding new friends and even forgetting the worries you once had.

You very quickly became familiar with everyone in Hometown.

Well at least almost everyone, there was this one person who you couldn’t reach no matter how hard you tried.

Kris Dreemurr.

They were the only other human in town, so naturally you tried to make a connection with them.

But whenever you tried to talk to them at school, they always either pretended to be busy or give you short, one-word responses until you got discouraged and went away.

It wasn’t even as if they acted like this with everyone; after school, you’d see them chatting and hanging out with some of your mutual friends.

It was almost as if they were purposefully avoiding you for some reason.

Kris wasn’t like the other humans you were used to. There were some things you quickly noticed about them through observation.

Like how they frequently visited the hospital after school, even if there were no patients there.

They also refused to take their hoodie off their head, creating a natural shadow over their eyes.

The strangest thing of all, however, was that one time in chemistry class. You were working with glass beakers with your assigned partner Berdly.

As Alphys was demonstrating what to do, Berdly raised his hand with inhuman speed to make a comment. His wing unfortunately bumped into you, making the beaker you were holding bump against the counter.

The sound of glass shattering filled the small classroom.

You gripped your wrist as you suddenly felt a sharp pain run through you.

You look down to see a giant gash on your palm. Your hand was bleeding… a lot.

Berdly quickly turned around and rushed out a string of frantic apologies as the other students gathered around you.

“Oh shoot…” Your teacher fidgeted with her hands, you could tell she wasn’t equipped to deal with a human student suddenly bleeding out.

“D-do we need to bring you to the nurse—”

“Kris would know what to do.” Noelle said without question as she frantically wrapped paper towels around your wound, very obviously trying her best not to throw up.

“R-right!” Alphys frantically looked around the classroom, “...Does anyone know where Kris went?”

Kris was nowhere to be found.

“Uhm-” Alphys muttered. “D-do you want someone to go to the nurse with you?”

You look up at her.

“I think I’ll be fine, it doesn’t hurt that—”

“I’LL GO!” Berdly yells, pointing his finger at the ceiling in a triumphant pose.

He dramatically kneeled at your feet with one leg, as if he was proposing to you. “It’s the least I could do after causing you so much harm…” He held your hand into his wing.

You looked over at Noelle for help, but she was currently gagging over the trashcan in the corner while Catti held her hair back.

“...G-great! I’ll call the nurse and tell her you’ll be there. Thank you, Berdly.” Alyphys let out a sigh of relief.

You silently groaned, how you wished Kris took you instead.

—

As the two of you walked over to the nurse's office, you overheard a conversation happening from one of the empty classrooms.

There were two voices. One familiar, one not.

“Ms.Toriel, I understand your concerns but we can't just kick a student out of school–”

“This is a life or death situation!” A loud slam on a desk thundered from the other side of the door. You quickly hurry on, catching up to Berdly.

The school nurse sent you home with some bandages and an ice pack, you lived pretty near the school, so you decided to just walk to your house.

Berdly did give out the offer to walk home with you, but the nurse quickly shut him down, reminding him he wasn’t allowed to skip class.

You let out a sigh as you silently thank her.

It was autumn, so the sun set earlier than usual. You put your hands in your pockets as you left the school, feeling the cold breeze in your face.

As you walked home, you started to think about Kris again.

It wasn’t unusual for them to sleep during class, but for them to just skip like that— especially during the middle of a lesson...

Your mind was trying to come to a conclusion that made sense, you eventually settled on them just having to leave early.

Ironically, Kris sheer devotion to avoiding you made you all that more interested in them.

“The day’s getting shorter huh?” A familiar voice echoes from across the kitchen as you enter your house. “Yeah,” you agree as you drop your backpack and jacket on the floor.

You couldn’t help but wince as the pressure touched your wound. But you smile as the smell of your favorite food cooking enters your sinuses.

“Could you crack open the window?” The voice asks.

“Sure,” you finish putting your things away and walk over to the front window.

You freeze.

When you opened the curtains, you noticed a dark figure standing in your front lawn.

It stared directly at you.

Before you could recognize what you were looking at, before you could even scream, the figure made a run for it, leaving your line of sight as soon as it appeared.

You quickly jolt upstairs into your room, not even bothering to eat for the night.

—

By the next morning, the pain in your hand was mostly gone. This time, you asked your family to drive you to school.

During the car ride, you briefly considered telling them about what you saw last night, but you didn’t know how.

You felt like you couldn’t.

Everything was normal at school that day. To your surprise, Kris was there, sleeping on their desk as usual.

Alphys assigned another group project for the class, it had something to do with the chemistry project you’ve been doing all week. She looked over at Kris as she assigned them as your partner.

“Kris…” She glared, doing her best to look stern. “D-don’t skip class again.”

“...please?” She added quickly.

You thought they were asleep, so you flinched a bit when they suddenly lifted their head up.

Kris raised their hand. “Miss, could we pick different partners?” They don’t even turn to look at you.

Ouch.

You’d be offended if you couldn’t laugh at just how bold they were for saying that in front of you.

“I’m… afraid you can’t really ask that.” Alphys said, putting her foot down for the first time ever.

Kris’ brow furrowed in silent frustration, air coming out of their nostrils.

You couldn’t help it, but you smile gloatingly at their dilemma— Kris was stuck with you, and they couldn’t escape, no matter how hard they tried.

As Alyphys pulled up and explained the rubric, you noticed how Kris snuck nervous glances at you whenever they thought you weren’t looking.

Soon enough the bell rang, Kris swiftly slung their backpack over their shoulder and left the classroom. You sigh, the teacher specified that you were supposed to do work with your partner outside of school hours.

You had no time to waste, you quickly packed your bags and followed after Kris. You weren’t about to fail your project because of their strange grudge over you.

Kris was already farther away than you anticipated, they quickly breezed along the sidewalk like it was nothing. You had to pick up your pace as you started to fall behind.

“Kris!” You yell out, speedwalking.

They pretended they didn’t hear you. You yell out again.

“KRIS!”

They kept walking. You expected them to head to the hospital, but they made a sharp turn, seemingly trying to lose you. What the hell was their problem? You keep following them. Your walk turns into a jog, backpack thumping against your shoulders.

You were too tired to even yell, your lungs burned. Kris was headed towards the forest near the shelter… that was new.

You finally give yourself a break as you lean against a tree, taking a moment to collect your breath. Just why was Kris making this so difficult?

You leave your backpack on the grass, deciding that it’d only slow you down.

It was getting dark, so you took out your phone light and followed the path into the shelter. After what felt like an eternity of walking, you finally spot Kris at the roof of the shelter, laying on the raised patch of grass.

You creep up behind them cautiously, not knowing what their next move will be.

“I know you’re here.”

Kris’ voice stops you in your tracks as they jump down from the top of the shelter, turning to face you.

“Please just… leave, it’s almost night.”

That was the final straw, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Just what the hell is your problem with me?!” You blurt.

Kris looks up in surprise at your change in tone, but you only continue.

“You’ve been ignoring me and treating me like shit the whole time I've been here. I’m sorry that you aren’t getting your token human treatment anymore, but I’m not trying to fail this project.”

Rage fills you as you think about all the time you could've spent working in the library being wasted on chasing your group partner halfway across town.

Kris didn’t speak, they could only stare at you as you huff. They tilt their head down, letting their hair drape over their face completely.

“It’s not that- I dont- hate you.” They mumble, words barely audible.

“Then what the fuck is it then?” You cross your arms, you swear you could’ve smacked them across the face at that moment.

Kris bit their lip, absentmindedly fidgeting with the piercings on their face.

“I can’t tell you right now, not at this time. It’s for your own good.” Kris seems to be trying to convince themself more than you. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, I-I swear.”

You exhale.

“Fine.”

Kris looks up in surprise. “…what?”

“Fine.” You raise your hands up in defeat. “If you won’t tell me, I won't bother you with it anymore. I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you really want.”

Kris could only watch as you turned and walked away. You stop in your tracks halfway for a moment, expecting them to speak up, to say something, but they stay silent.

A sigh escapes your lips, you were really starting to hate Kris Dreemurr.

—

You spend the night sitting in your room. You silently think about Kris as you rub your wounded hand. Skipping school, going into the forest at night… just what exactly were they doing? And why did your presence threaten them so much?

They claimed that they were going to explain everything tomorrow morning, but you knew they were just going to give you a fake excuse.

You had to get to the bottom of this, to find out the real reason they acted like this.

—

A part of you knew that it was a stupid idea, that you were walking into pure danger. But your pure spite overridden every sense of reasoning you once had.

You slowly stepped through the dark woods with nothing but your phone in hand.

There must’ve been a reason why Kris hid here.

Your hand covers your mouth as your phone flashlight reveals a small dead animal on the ground. You furrow your brows in pity, you couldn’t help but feel bad for it.

But as you continued through the forest, the carcasses only started appearing more frequently.

You shivered, this wasn’t normal.

It’s not until you shine a flashlight on yet another corpse that you notice something they had in common, They all had singular, large bite marks to them.

Your stomach churned in disgust, you felt sick. There must've been a loose animal hunting in the forest.

What Kris had to do with it, you didn’t understand just yet. But you knew you had to leave, this was clearly not safe.

You freeze as you hear a loud noise from behind.

Something was here with you.

You turn and make a run for it, forgetting about everything you came here for. But the noises only became louder, following. You panted as you sprinted for dear life, but the sound continued tracking you down.

You yelped as a strong force pushed your back against the nearest tree, a stinging pain shooting up your spine. You tried to move, but your hands were held above your head. You didn’t want to open your eyes, but you knew you had to.

The person in front of you, if you could even call them that at all, was Kris.

There was something… different to them.

Only now could you really see their red eyes as they bored into you. They had a slight glow to them in the night, and you could've sworn they were peering right into your body. Their chest heaved up and down as they kept their grip on you, panting like some kind of animal; you noticed the unnaturally sharp tips of their canine teeth pointing out from their mouth.

“Kris…” You barely manage to muster out their name, but through their eyes you could tell that they couldn’t hear a word you said.

You flinch as they lean in closer, cold breath inching closer to your neck. This couldn’t be real. This can’t be real. They're just pranking you…

You tried to find reasoning as your heart was practically beating out of your chest.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you felt their fangs slowly sink into your neck. There was a sharp pain at first, but that slowly went away as your body pumped with adrenaline before transforming into something else.

You felt an unfamiliar heat in your stomach as your blood was being sucked out of you.

It was sick, perverted.

You moved without thinking. You slowly placed your hand onto the back of their head as they gripped your waist, inviting them to take what they needed from you.

What were you doing?

Your mind was dizzying, this shouldn’t feel so good.

After what felt like eternity, Kris was finally done. A whimper escapes you as they lick the wound at the side of your neck.

You could finally look at them through your dazed vision. There was blood all over their mouth, your blood.

The ravenous look in their eyes was quickly replaced by pure horror, as if they just came back from a trance. Kris released their grip on you, slowly backing up from disbelief.

Their mouth opened to say something, but you couldn’t make out a single sound but your name as you faded in and out of consciousness.

Your legs were shaking, you could barely stand up. Without Kris’ body support, your knees gave in as you collapsed onto the cold forest ground— vision becoming black.

—

There was a throbbing pain in your head as you slowly woke up. It was the next morning. You sit up quickly, scouring your surroundings.

You were… in your bed.

A sigh of relief escapes you, that must’ve been a nightmare. You shiver as a gust of cold air enters your room, the window near your bed was wide open.

You quickly get up to close the window, but you almost fall over as you feel your vision fade in and out; punishment for standing up too fast. You grip your nightstand for stability as you regain yourself.

Afterwards, you carry yourself over to the bathroom to get ready for school.

You take a long look at yourself in the mirror. There was… a dark red stain on the collar of your shirt. You lean in to look closer, maybe you spilt something on yourself.

You feel around your neck, and your eyes widen as you notice two small holes imprinted on your skin.

It couldn’t be…

—

You felt nauseous. You told your family that you couldn’t go to school today, that you felt sick. It was a white lie of course, you knew they wouldn’t believe you if you told them the real reason.

The entirety of the morning was spent tossing and turning around in your bed, trying desperately to make sense of things. You realize that you were in the forest, you did see those things, and that Kris…

Kris wasn’t human.

You picked up your phone, filling your internet history with terms like:

‘Do humans drink blood? Are vampires actually real? What to do if bitten by a vampire?’

As expected, the results were practically useless, treating vampires like the mythical beings they should be.

But you know what you saw.

Your hand subconsciously came up to your neck again to touch the bite marks left by Kris. You wince as the memory replays in your head for the thousandth time today. The smell of metal filling your sinuses, the horrified look of Kris when they realized what they were doing.

Kris… Their name was a curse on your mind.

But for some reason, you didn’t exactly hate the experience. You shrink under the covers, covering your head in shame. A sick, masochistic part of you enjoyed it.

Your stomach flutters as you remember the feeling of their mouth on your skin. You wanted to be scared, but you shivered as you kept thinking about the deeper, darker things they could do to you…

A fist comes up to your temple, trying to shake the thoughts away.

You knew no one in town would believe you if you told them Kris wasn’t human, nobody else but you knew what humans were even supposed to act like. You sigh, you really were alone in this.

And if your theories were correct, you accidentally gave Kris their first taste of live human blood.

And once they got a taste of some, they wouldn’t stop hunting you for it.

—

You’ve been full of stupid decisions this week, but this now could be the single most reckless thing you’ve done in your life.

You look at the time, it was 4pm. School was over, and the sun was still up. Based on your recent observations, you should be able to talk to Kris normally.

But you still had to take precautions.

From your knowledge of vampire films, you put on your heavy puffer jacket, making sure not to expose your neck like you did last night. You go downstairs and grab a handful of various supposed ‘vampire repellents’ from the kitchen.

You quickly exit the house before your family is able to ask what was going on.

You’d be lying if you said your heart wasn’t practically beating out of your chest, you were terrified. But you knew you had to do this, that you had to talk to Kris and get answers before they tried to leave town or something.

You headed straight to the forest, keeping your eyes on nothing else. In the afternoon sky, you could see things more clearly.

The animal carcasses you thought you saw littered across the floor last night were still there, though some of them were now gone. You feel a shiver run down your spine as you see the tree where Kris sucked your blood, the tree where you let Kris take you.

Speaking of Kris, they were nowhere to be found. You hover your hand around your pocket, you knew you couldn’t be caught off guard— you saw how fast Kris was able to move last night. But where exactly could they be?

“What are you doing here?” You hear a voice from above.

You grab your weapon and frantically wave it around, treating it as if it was some kind of religious talisman.

After your less than ideal performance, you look up to the source of the voice.

It was Kris.

“I don’t want to hurt you, please just— go.” They spoke to you from on top of a tree.

You sigh in relief, they seemed normal. Unfortunately so normal that they were still doing their best to avoid you.

“No.”

“...What?”

“I said no,” you straighten your posture, hoping you sounded sure of yourself.

Kris looked down at you in confusion. “Do you not remember what happened last night?”

“...I do.” You admit, holding your neck by instinct. “But I also remember when you said you’d explain everything to me.”

“But—”

“I'm not leaving until you come down.” You knew you sounded absolutely insane, but you weren't going to let this go.

Kris was silent. After what seemed like forever, they swiftly threw themselves off the tree, landing perfectly when they hit the grassy floor.

They paused before walking up to you slowly.

“Is that a… spoon in your hand?”

You feel embarrassment rush in as Kris points out your weapon of choice. “I figured that because of the silver it would help…”

“You couldn’t have at least brought a knife?” Their face fell, genuinely seeming to be disappointed by your apparent poor survival skills.

You quickly circle the conversation back to what you wanted to say before you blushed even further.

“Look– Kris.” Your arms cross. “I need you to tell me exactly what the hell you are. Be honest.”

Kris sighs, realizing they can't avoid the topic any further.

“I'm a Vampire… or at least I think I am? It's confusing.” Their hand came up to the back of their head.

You tilted your head to the side. “Then why aren't you burning up in the sun right now?”

“That's what I think.” They clarify. “All I know is that I need human blood.”

That explained the hospital trips.

“So why avoid me so much if you already know what it tastes like?” You ask.

“It's different.” They bit their lip. “The problem is that you're alive, and you’re like— really pretty… I wouldn't know when to stop.”

Kris thought you were pretty?

You could feel your heart beat faster, and judging by Kris'expression, they could sense it too.

“My first ever bite was supposed to kill… you're supposed to be dead.” They mumbled, quickly looking away.

“You seem upset about that.” Your eyes squinted.

“No! it's just—” They quickly shake their head.

“I'm… questioning a lot of things about myself right now, what they told me.”

“Or just maybe…” You suggest. “You had enough self control to stop at the last second.”

“But I won't have any self control after,” Kris sighs. ”I'll keep craving more until my tolerance is built.”

They walk around in circles, seemingly trying to reason with themselves.

“Shit…” Kris cursed under their breath, putting a hand in their dark hair.

“You ruined me.” Something about the low hushed tone in their voice makes something in your stomach flutter.

“...so if you were to hypothetically bite me again…” You try and find a way to bring it up.

“Would it still be fatal?”

Kris stopped in their tracks, mentally searching for a conclusion.

“...no it wouldn't, actually. But there's still a chance—”

You unzipped your jacket slightly, revealing your now-healed wound to them.

“Then bite me again, right now. We can test it out, help you build your tolerance.”

Kris looks at you in shock, trying to find words as their mouth opens.

“Even if it doesn't kill you, there's still a chance I could seriously hurt–”

“Kris.” Your voice was stern. “I don't know how, but you had enough self control to carry me to my bed all by yourself last night. You can do this.”

Kris was speechless.

“You're fucking crazy…”

For the first time, they let out a laugh, fangs peeking through their mouth.

“...So is that a no?”

“I'll think about it.” They look away as a small flush appears on their face.

“Just make sure to buy me dinner afterwards.” You joke, and you could see the corners of Kris' mouth tilt up in a smile.

“You bring the utensils.” They joke back.

It seemed like acting crazy was the only way you could get yourself through to them.

—

You came home feeling lighter than before, not just from the blood loss that happened last night.

You looked at yourself in the mirror once more. Surprisingly, the bite mark was practically invisible; like it was never there.

You sit and think about the bat shit insane deal you just agreed to today.

You were letting some vampire you barely knew have free access to your blood.

You told yourself it was for the better of humanity, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't particularly doing it because you found them attractive.

You really needed to stop watching so many vampire movies.

After hours of thinking, you finally doze off to sleep.

—

Your eyes gently blink open as a dark shape fills your vision. What was this? You couldn't move, and there was this…

You slowly wake up to realize Kris was on top of you.

“I didn't know where else to go— I…” Kris looked at you disheveled, desperate.

“I need to taste you again.”

A soft whine escapes them as they tighten their grip on your wrists, zapping awake something carnal in your body.

“Please…”

AN: Finally finished writing this!! :) I'll start working on KtYH again but if anybody wants a part two to this AU feel free to ask! (It'll probably be more explicit if that’s not ur thing)

#deltarune #deltaruined #kris fics #deltarune x you #deltarune x reader #kris dreemurr x you #kris x reader #kris dreemurr x reader #my fics #kris dreemurr #kris deltarune

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frankent1ts · 2 months ago

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RIDDLE THEORY

Okay so y'know how in the CH3 egg room the Forgotten Man says this nonsense?

Most ppl in the fandom write these lines of dialogue off completely, but I actually think this a riddle. More than that, I think this riddle is the Forgotten Man telling us where the past egg rooms were and where to find future egg rooms.

Let's start off with addressing the whole Thursday-Sunday thing, what do the days of the week have to do with egg rooms? Everything actually! Because guess what? CH1 of Deltarune takes place on a Thursday.

We know this because in CH2 Susie and Kris go to school, but then in CH4 no one's in school because it's the first day of the weekend AKA Saturday.

So if CH4 takes place on Saturday, then CH2 must take place on Friday, and CH1 must take place on a Thursday. CH3 is stuck in a weird limbo bc Kris opened up the TV dark world late at night (probably closer to midnight, as evidenced by this quiz)

So while technically it's Saturday night because it's currently past midnight, it also doesn't feel like the start of a new day. That'll be an important detail so keep that in your noggin.

ANYWAY, let's start with the first part of the riddle.

Now while we obviously don't find the Forgotten Man selling donuts in CH1, we do find a bake sale, a bake sale that sells donuts.

It's worth noting that the bake sale has a teleporter door and the only save point you'll have for the next couple of rooms. These two things mark the bake sale as an important checkpoint. Why is the bake sale so important? Because in the very next room we find a tree identical to the one found in the egg room, hinting that we may find this very same tree again between the bake sale and the next checkpoint.

So that's part one of the riddle down, but what about this next part?

Well, this one's actually pretty obvious. CH2 takes place on a Friday, right? Well, guess where we find the egg room? In-between a sidewalk and a hidden dumpster room. Bada-bing, bada-boom.

Also notice how the dumpster and bake sale both relate to the first two secret bosses, Spamton and Jevil? Above the bake sale is where you find the blacksmith that mends the broken key to Jevil's cell, and we find out that Spamton lives in the hidden dumpster. This draws a very deliberate connection between the secret bosses and the egg rooms. Remember this.

Okay and what about the third part of the riddle?

Well, and this might be a bit weird, but I don't think this part of the riddle refers to the CH3 egg room at all. Remember how I said that CH3 is kinda in a limbo in-between Friday and Saturday because it takes place at midnight? Well, I think CH3 being in-between the days of the week excludes it from this riddle. Plus, beyond the whole time thing, the CH3 egg room doesn't relate to windows at all.

But y'know which egg room does relate to that? The CH4 egg room. Yeah, this one's also pretty obvious but we find the CH4 egg room by going in-between a window and a secret library.

Now before we move onto the last part of the riddle, allow me to spit another theory at ya. Remember how I said that the riddle deliberately connects the egg rooms to the first two secret bosses? Well, right about now you're probably beginning to question that connection. The secret boss of CH4 is Gerson, and the CH4 egg room doesn't have an obvious connection to Gerson at all. So was the connection between the first two egg rooms and the secret bosses just a coincidence?

No.

I believe the connection between the first two egg rooms and the secret bosses was intentional, and I believe that Gerson not being all that connected to the CH4 egg room was also intentional. Why do I think this? Because Gerson is the first secret boss to not slip into darkness.

Let's think about it: what do the first three secret bosses (Jevil, Spamton, and ERAM) all have in common? They're all related to darkness. Jevil is trapped in a dark, lonely cell and talks about how a darkness will consume our hearts. Spamton is forced to live in a dark garbage can and complains about how it's still so dark even in his NEO form. And ERAM is a shadowy figure found in a dark hidden room that gives us an item resistant to dark attacks.

But Gerson isn't like that at all. He tells us that someone gave him the shadow crystal and wanted him to use it, but he refused to. And seemingly because of that, he didn't get lost in the darkness. Unlike the first three secret bosses, Gerson is kind, helpful, friendly, but most of all he isn't consumed by darkness. Hell, he spends most of his time in a comfy well-lit room with a fireplace. He's the absolute antithesis to the first three secret bosses.

And it's because of this that the CH4 egg room isn't really related to Gerson. All the other egg rooms are connected to the secret bosses in some way (even the CH3 egg room is kinda related to ERAM since they're both found through convoluted secrets in retro video games), but because Gerson broke free of that cycle, he didn't become connected to the egg room.

…However, there is still a connection to be made between Gerson and the egg room, albeit a vague one. As I mentioned, the CH4 egg room is found in-between the window and the hidden library. Well, the hidden library actually contains a single book inside. Read it and you get this story: "Something grew from the bitter water. It felt like glass."

Hm. Water, something that looks like glass? Where have I heard all that before?

Ah, yes, the shadow crystal. A piece of glass that moves like water in your hand.

So what does all this mean? Why are all the egg rooms connected back to the secret bosses/shadow crystals? Well, that's because the secret bosses/shadow crystals all relate back to one thing: Gaster.

Jevil met a strange someone that made his view of the world become darker, yet darker. Spamton was always on the phone with someone that made him a big shot, and the phone emitted garbage noise. ERAM is found in the shelter, and the shelter emits the same sound found in ENTRY NUMBER SEVENTEEN. The shadow crystals are impossibly dark shards that don't reflect any light, photon readings negative.

It all leads back to him. But why? Why are the egg rooms deliberately connected to Gaster? Well, I think you know why.

It's because the Forgotten Man is Gaster.

The Forgotten Man is found in-between rooms, and so is the Mystery Man sprite in Undertale. The Forgotten Man is forgotten and obscured, and so is Gaster. The Forgotten Man can only speak in all-caps, and so does Gaster. Gaster has knowledge of the prophecy, and so does the Forgotten Man.

“But the Forgotten Man doesn't have knowledge of the prophecy,” I hear you say. “He never tells us anything about the prophecy.”

But he does.

Let's finally talk about the last part of the Forgotten Man's riddle.

The fifth egg room is going to be found on a Sunday, it's going to be found in CH5. Importantly, it's going to be found in a wheat field. Now obviously CH5 hasn't come out yet, so I don't know what it has in store. But I know for certain that the CH5 dark world will have a wheat field.

How do I know this? Well, during your fight with Gerson, he rattles off the titles and descriptions of the chapters from The Lord Of The Hammer. We find out from Gerson that The Lord Of The Hammer series is based on the prophecy that the Fun Gang are seemingly destined to carry out. The chapters of The Lord Of The Hammer further confirm this fact as they all sound pretty similar to the first four chapters of Deltarune.

But then Gerson tells us of a fifth chapter.

According to Gerson, the fifth chapter will contain a field of pink and gold, a garden that gets burned. Obviously this hints at the CH5 dark world being inside Asgore's flower shop. It's a flower shop with double doors, Asgore had fire magic in Undertale so Asgore's garden being set ablaze would make sense, Asgore could become jealous of Sans having a better relationship with Toriel than he does.

It all adds up. But what does the “Field of Pink and Gold” mean? In Deltarune, pink and gold is often related to the secret bosses (Spamton has pink and gold shades, FRIEND's eyes are pink and gold, the controller Kris uses to play the secret boss game is pink and gold.)

Why is the field in CH5 gonna be pink and gold?

…Well, the Forgotten Man did say you'll find him in a wheat field. A golden field.

The Forgotten Man knows about the prophecy, he knows that Kris will be able to find him in a future plant-themed dark world.

But what did Gerson say about Chapter 5? That it was the last chapter? That the story “swallowed up the author whole”? An author that got killed by their own creation, now where have I heard that before?

And what do you know? The Forgotten Man only tells us about where to find him up til CH5, but not CH6 or CH7. Why is that?

If the Forgotten Man truly is a version of Gaster, then this can only mean that after CH5 we may never see the Forgotten Man again, and (just like Gerson, just like Gaster) the Forgotten Man will be swallowed up by something, something he created.

CH5 is gonna be the last chapter where we'll be able to collect an egg. And these eggs are gonna be the only way we'll be able to remember the Forgotten Man after he's gone.

And the Forgotten Man knows that this will happen. He tells you as much himself.

#undertale #deltarune #gaster #forgotten man #egg #deltarune theory #jevil #spamton #kris deltarune

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syddsatyrn · 1 year ago

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⛧Devotion is Love with Wings⛧ Chapter Two: Emotions Unveiled

Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Alcohol, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, king x servant, panic attack, heartbreak, happy ending.

⛧Words: 2.5K

⛧Summary: Feelings surface and the line between duty and desire begins to blur. Admitting your feelings to the King of Hell could be the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you. Lucifer battles with his own internal struggles in silence.

⛧Notes: Ask and you shall receive, my dears! You all asked me for a part two so here we go! Keep an eye out for my next fic because its time for some Alastor content! My beta reader is @hellfiremunsonn and she deserve all the rainbows and cupcakes.

⛧Tag list: @loslox @tiedyedghoulette @naiadic

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As the soft rays of the morning sun seeped through the velvet curtains, you slowly opened your eyes, blinking a few times, adjusting to the gentle light. Despite the room still cloaked in soothing darkness, you knew you were in Lucifer's room. It takes you a moment to recall last night's events. You feel his breath on the back of your neck and his arm around your midsection. You can feel your face get hotter with every detail you take in. He is comfortably curled up behind you sound asleep. He needs rest, you’re afraid to move a muscle and wake him. You look over at the clock on the wall, you both are extremely late for breakfast.

“...Shit.” You say under your breath. Lucifer begins to move slightly, he lets out a soft hum and holds you just a bit closer. You can’t tell if he’s awake or not, even though you truly did not want to get out of bed, it had to be done. You slowly sit up and turn around, you almost place your hand on his shoulder but you take a moment to admire his sweet sleeping face. Instead, you gently place your hand on his cheek. Lucifer’s eyes flutter open, he meets your gaze and gives you a sleepy smile.

“Good morning…” He says softly while holding your wrist, keeping your hand on his cheek. You wanted to pull away, but his eyes made you want to just crawl back into his arms and go back to sleep.

“G-Good Morning, sir.” You stutter a little, Lucifer’s smile turns into a small smirk, he is amused by how flustered you are. He finally lets go and you try to compose yourself, but it's hard to do so when he looks so cute.

“I’ll go get some coffee, it looks like we slept in.” You finally break the spell he had on you and crawl out of his bed. When you leave, Lucifer immediately misses your presence close to him, having you next to him made a significant difference in his mood and sleep. It was the first time he’d felt the warmth of another person in a long time, and now that he’s had a taste, he wants more.

You head down the hall to your room, when you enter you quickly shut the door, thankful no one saw you. You get dressed in your uniform and head downstairs to the kitchen. While you made coffee, the staff were surprised to see you so late into the morning. You make up a quick excuse, stating you were not feeling well but you’re doing much better now so it's nothing to worry about.

You take two cups of coffee upstairs on a silver tray, and you do your best to mentally shift into work mode, but you can't stop thinking about last night. You return to his room, the king is still in bed, sporting a satisfied look on his face. You hand him his coffee and place the tray on the bedside table.

“Thank you, my dear.” He says and gestures for you to sit on the bed, so you take your cup from the tray and have a seat.

“I want to apologize.” You start, and he looks at you with a raised brow. “I shouldn't have fallen asleep in your quarters. That was inappropriate of me.”

“I’m gonna stop you there, you do exactly what is asked of you. Everything you do is for my benefit. I could never be upset with you for something like that.” He says with a gentle voice. His gold eyes soften as he realizes you’re being serious.

“Thank you…” You reply, just barely above a whisper. His words made you feel a little better, you only want to do what's best for your king…but sometimes you can get carried away. You would do anything for him, that includes bending the rules.

“Now stop sulking.” He says and crawls over to you, sitting beside you on the bed. He is seated rather close, you look away trying to hide your red face. He turns your face back towards him using his index finger and thumb. “You’re too pretty to be so sad.”

“Y-You forget yourself, sir.” You stutter, barely keeping it together. You finish your coffee and return the cup to the tray. When you stand up and walk towards the wardrobe, Lucifer chuckles at your attempt to remain dignified. He is knocking down walls with the way he speaks to you. Breaking down each professional boundary one at a time. His touch was setting you on fire and you were running out of ways to extinguish it.

You sort through his clothes and pull out a black suit with red and white embellishments. You set it on the corner of the bed like you always do. “I’ll make sure I have your lunch ready for you in your study, sir” You say quickly, with a red blush spread across your face, you take the tray and quickly excuse yourself.

You rush down the hall and back to your room. Your chest heaves and you're out of breath. What in the devil's name happened there?! He looked like he was going to kiss you, his face was so close and he called you pretty! What is this idiot doing? You cover your face with your sleeves and pace back and forth in your room.

You always prided yourself on your composure. You navigate life’s twists and turns with a steady hand and a level head. At first, you brushed off these fluttering feelings as a mere passing fancy. You find yourself in front of a mental crossroads, on one hand, there is the exhilarating rush of new emotions. On the other was fear of rejection, an unconventional relationship, and possible heartbreak. If you ruin what you have with Lucifer, you will end up with nothing. All your years climbing the hierarchy would be null and void.

But what if it was possible? No, it couldn't be, there was just no way. As far as you are aware, you’ve never heard of such a situation that ended well. This can’t possibly be happening, you need some time to sort yourself out. But at some point, you are going to see him again today and you’re not sure how you’ll handle it. You always buried your feelings deep within your heart, locking them away like a precious treasure hidden from prying eyes. You’d like to think you're capable of continuing this facade, but this time you are not so sure.

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Lucifer sighs as you leave the room, your reactions are rather fascinating though. He gets up and takes his clothes to the bathroom to dress himself. Lucifer is well aware of the power dynamic here, and he has a habit of pushing things as far as he can. It comes with the territory of normally having anything he wants. He buttons his vest and looks at himself in the mirror. So what if he had a thing for his advisor? He wonders if he’s just lonely and that’s why he’s acting this way…even if that was true, it wouldn’t explain the relief he feels every time you enter a room. He puts on his coat, straightens his hat, and leaves his room to spend time in his study.

He opens the door and notices his lunch is sitting on his desk along with some invoices to sign and an overview of yesterday's meeting. This is unusual, you normally bring him his meal and check in on his daily progress at this time. This is cause for concern, indeed. Was Y/N avoiding him? Surely that can't be true, they would never just ignore him like that. He slumps into his chair, wondering if he messed up somehow.

Did he ruin the years of trust they had built? He still wants her around, he would hate the idea of anyone else taking your place. The more he thought about it the more the pit in his stomach grew. He attempts to eat but can’t put down much food, his nerves are making it difficult to eat. He needs to find you and apologize, he has to make this right somehow.

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Hours go by and you’ve done your best to avoid Lucifer at all costs, but you can't keep this up forever. You are standing on a large balcony in the dining room wearing your pajamas. The sun has set and the stars are visible in the sky, there is a chill in the air. You let out a defeated sigh, you’re going to have to tell him or forget about your feelings completely. You fear that if you confessed your love, the delicate threads that bind you both together would fray and snap. If you forget and try to move on, how bad is it going to hurt when he finds a new love? It would ache so bad you might have to leave his manor entirely, you knew that if that were to happen, it would shatter Lucifer's heart.

You feel a few drops of rain fall on your skin, and as each minute passes the rain becomes heavier and heavier. You look out into the courtyard, it’s getting late and you should be heading inside but you stand there, tears in your eyes. How could you be so foolish and self-centered? You knew the rules and you chose to defy them, it's your own fault you feel so awful.

Suddenly the rain is no longer hitting you, you don't feel the cold drops on your face anymore. You turn around and Lucifer is standing in the doorway, his large wing covers you, shielding you from the rain.

“Hey…Can we talk?” He says with a soft look of concern on his face. You nod while wiping your face with your sleeves, he motions for you to come back inside. He walks slightly ahead of you, leading you upstairs to his bedroom. He opens the door for you and gives you a small half-smile. Lucifer walks over to his desk and pours you both a glass of bourbon. He hands you a glass and you take a seat at the small table next to the window. He sits across from you, you can tell he's a bit anxious because he keeps looking away. You take a sip from your drink, hoping the alcohol will settle your nerves.

The ambiance of the dimly lit room, the soft glow of candlelight danced upon his face. With a hesitant breath, Lucifer cleared his throat.

“I need to apologize to you,” Lucifer says with a despairing look on his face. “I’m sure you’ve felt confused and in distress all day.” He takes a sip of his drink while trying to find the right words. “Before I begin, let me just say that I think so highly of you. Y/N, you’ve been there for me during every awful situation I’ve faced and I am so grateful for you.”

He grabs your hand and his expression changes to a more serious one. “I don't want you to leave my side. I couldn’t bear it if I did something to make you leave.”

“Sir, I–” You try to speak but Lucifer interrupts you.

“Y/N. I need you to drop the formalities for ten minutes, please.” He cuts you off and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Is there something going on between us or am I just a lonely, divorced, delusional, man making it all up in my head so I don't feel so shitty about my life?”

You are shocked by his words, you had no idea he felt that way about himself.

“You’re not delusional, Lucifer.” You answer, it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts and put them in order. “It's all my fault, really. I guess after all this time I’ve developed some feelings.”

Lucifer’s eyes widen, his face softens and he squeezes your hand and you look back into his eyes with a small smile. “I think I just got carried away, I know nothing can happen between us. It would be unacceptable and irredeemable. I’m the delusional one, to think you could ever love someone like me.” You reply while looking down at your drink, your finger toying with the rim of the glass.

Without a word, without warning, Lucifer leaned over the table and grabbed ahold of your shirt. He pulls you close so that you are face to face, leaning over the table. You could feel his breath on your lips as he said, “Love doesn't adhere to rules or expectations, darling. I will choose to defy every convention, every decree if it means I get to spend the rest of my life devoted to someone I love.”

Tears started to well up in your eyes, he slowly closed the gap between you both. His lips softly pressed against yours. Time stopped in that moment, amidst the chaos of entangled emotions. The taste was bittersweet, you’ve only ever dreamed of this. His hand lets go of your shirt and caresses your face. You kiss him back with fervor, a silent confession that speaks volumes. Both of you daring to defy the boundaries of monarchy and courtier.

You lace your fingers with his, he stands up and pulls you out of your seat. You practically fell into his arms, Lucifer held the back of your head, the other arm wrapped around your waist.

Your tears flowed freely as you hid your face in his chest. He holds you tight, offering you silent comfort as you let out quiet sobs. Lucifer strokes your hair and kisses the top of your head.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize…” He says, barely above a whisper. “Just let me take care of you for once, my love.” Before you can protest, Lucifer scoops you up and gently places you on his bed. He climbs in and pulls the covers over you both. He wipes your tear-stained cheeks with his sleeve and smiles at you while you take the time you need to calm down.

“C’mon, babe say something…You’re killing me.” He says, waiting for you to speak with bated breath.

“I love you…” You say between staggered breaths. Your eyes are locked on his, somehow Lucifer blows through the many walls you’ve put up to prevent this and you are left bare and vulnerable. It is terrifying, being this helplessly in love. Bearing the fragments of your heart to the person who held it entirely.

“I love you too, dummy.” His smile is sweet like saccharine, his voice is smooth like silk. Your lips met his once more while your fingers card through his hair. He kept you as close as possible, and in the hush of the night amidst the whispered confessions, you and your king curled up together and fell asleep once again in each other's arms. No sovereign, demon or angel could pull you two apart even if they tried.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fandom #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x y/n #hazbin hotel x you

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