this is in no way sexualizing the real arne. this is just oneshots of my fav demon boy </3
don't own arne !!!
UPDATES:
#4 Arne Johnson
#8 Ruairi O Connor
#3 Conjuring 3
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warnings: smut, degradation, gun play.
I pushed open the door to Arne & I's house, you walk in the room to take your jewelry off.
It had been about a week since you seen your boyfriend, if u wanted to call him that... You've been away due to the fact u were staying with a friend at the ocean.
Trying to shimmy out of your dress that you usually needed a second person to help remove, you suddenly felt a hand on your waist.
"In need of some assistance?" Arne ' heavily says, his presence scaring you. You jump, turning around to face him. Your scared expression melts away quickly, the initial shock wearing off.
"Sure," you agree. His fingers find the zipper to your dress that had a reputation of being jammed. He easily slides it down, pushing the fabric apart once it was fully unzipped.
"I'm glad to see you're back. I was starting to get worried," he says, watching as you push the dress down your body and step out of it so you're left in just your underclothes. "Yeah, things got hectic up there," you reply.
Your eyes briefly scan his body, taking in his usual jeans. Tucked into his pants you saw a strange object.
"What's that?" you ask, standing at your vanity as you wipe your makeup off. He doesn't reply and instead takes the object from his pants. Your eyes were focused on your reflection so you weren't aware of what it was until you heard a gun click.
Your body freezes, the noise of a gun cocking being no stranger to you.
Turning to face him, you saw how he held a gun in his hand. He had always been a jealous man. Arne never liked how you could leave the house at any moment. Especially since what happened recently, you were scared a lot more than usual.
"What's that for?" you ask with naivety. Arne smiles softly, his eyes downcasting onto the revolver he held. "Bruce gave it to me, before he died." he says simply.
Setting down the makeup wipe, you try and act cool as if him holding a firearm didn't bother you. He sighs softly, turning and sitting down in one of the chairs in your room.
"So you're gonna kill me?" you ask with a humorless chuckle. He shrugs. "I certainly find it rather disheartening how much you leave this house, Y/n. I can't help but wonder what you do while you're gone," he explains.
Swallowing thickly, you keep steady eye contact with him. "It's nothing bad. I just can't stay here all the time, Arne. You know that,"
"Don't pull that," he replies quickly, looking more and more fed up. "I've known you for so long. Don't act like I don't understand the itching compulsion to leave me." he waves his gun around while he speaks.
