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appalachiancowboy99 · 2 months ago

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After Dark

Arthur Morgan x CurvyFem!Reader Established relationship, high honor, grumpy Arthur in desperate need of release, 18+, MDNI (Minors DO NOT ENTER)

Arthur comes back to camp later than usual, with nothing but a bad disposition and a desperate need to release his pent-up frustrations.

Warnings: longer read, sexual content (oral, unprotected p in v, rough sex), mentions of violence, mentions of anger, and dabbles in sensual fluff.

Gif by: @sunwingsunset

A/N: Thank you so much to @photo1030 for not only being my sounding board in the never-ending chaos that is my writing process but also for being such a wonderful friend through it all. So grateful for you, don't know what I'd do without ya, C! <3 Thank you so much to @rivetingrosie4 for being an inspiration for my little works and being so supportive of my creative endeavors, not to mention the kind generosity of your friendship! Forever grateful for to have met you! @tortureddpoett I'm so excited to explore this budding friendship with you! Thank you so much for showing so much excitement for my work, IT MAKES ME EXCITED (EEP!). It means an absolute ton to me <3 @mr-inkslinger your friendship has been an absolute delight to explore! Thank you for posting that toe-curling smut that always has me giggling and kicking my feet! So happy to have met ya! And thank each and every single one of you for liking my first drabble and expressing interest in this next one. I'm so sorry it's taken me forever to publish this post, but hopefully, the next ones won't take me as long. I'll forever be grateful for your patience and kindness <3 But now, enough of my babbling, y'all enjoy yourselves with this one- I know I did ;)

Fuck. From the second he opened his eyes, he knew that the day was going to be fucking awful; his neck had a crick in it, his head was pounding from what little sleep he’s received over the last few nights, and now he had to trudge back out into the goddamn muggy heat to work. One disaster after another had piled up; everything that could have gone wrong, went so terribly awry that he wound up farther away from camp than he originally intended and managed to add a solid fifteen-dollar bounty to the mounting collection resting atop his head. Dutch had sent him out on a wild goose chase, following a lead from Micah that, of course, ended up being a complete waste of time. And that meant he was coming back to camp empty-handed, which almost certainly meant he'd be on the receiving end of another one of Dutch's lectures on the endless responsibilities placed upon his shoulders. He dreaded it, wanted to avoid spiraling down another conversation that would end in Dutch questioning his faith in the ever-evolving plan he’s found himself working on these days.

As if he needed any of that horseshit tonight. All he wanted was a moment of peace and quiet, a chance to catch his breath after the disaster of a day he'd just had, but instead, he was headed back to camp with nothing but bruises, a bloody lip, and a bad disposition to show for his efforts. Trees and other bits of scenery whipped by in a blur as Arthur spurred his horse onward, his surroundings melting together into a muddy mess of shapes cast by moonlight. He passed through New Hanover, his furious pace leading him down the familiar roads of Lemoyne, reaching the clearing outside of camp. Lenny and John are the first to spot Arthur approaching the thicket of trees disguising Clemens Point's main entrance. “Hey, who goes there?” Lenny’s voice echoes through the forest, bouncing off the thicket until it reaches Arthur’s ears.

“‘S me.” Arthur grunts out through gritted teeth, clearly not in the mood for any chit-chat. Even underneath the shadow of leaves and limbs, the scowl etched upon his face is easily distinguishable, a clear sign for anyone with any common sense to give him a wide berth for the rest of the night. Lenny and John, both, had a pretty good idea of what might happen when Arthur steps foot into camp and they don't want any part of it. As a result, they give each other a little knowing glance and stay in the treeline, preferring to avoid the impending shitstorm and let Dutch or Hosea deal with it instead. He strides past them in a fit of frustration, dismounting his mare with a jerky movement before she's even come to a complete stop. Kieran spots him and hesitantly approaches. That poor fool. "H-Hey, Mr. Morgan. Would ya like me to unsaddle the 'ol gal here?" Kieran's question was nothing more than an innocent query, but his expression turned the young man into a nervous wreck. If looks could kill, Arthur’s certainly could; his steely eyes are set ablaze with annoyance and irritation as he casts a hateful glance in Kieran's direction. Even Kieran knew better than to talk to Arthur when he was in this state, knowing that it would only lead to suffering at the hands of his unbridled wrath. Kieran’s eyes immediately darted to his feet, desperate to avoid Arthur’s icy gaze as his fingers trembled with the frayed ends of rope in his hands. Quickly as to not start any trouble for himself, Kieran took hold of the mare's reigns and led her away to the field of horses, putting as much distance between himself and Arthur as he could. A slight pang of guilt runs through him when he sees the way that Kieran high-tailed it out of his line of sight. He doesn't want to be harsh to the boy, he's been a useful asset to the gang, but his temper is just too far gone for him to muster up an apology. As fast as the angering thoughts snapping through his mind, Arthur turns on his heels and storms into camp in search of Dutch. His boots furiously hit the grass and reddened Lemoyne dirt as he passes by a few of the wandering eyes from those still awake at this late hour. Charles casts him a wary glance, and so does Sadie, but neither of them cares to look long enough to entertain what's about to happen. He passes by his own wagon and heads straight to Dutch's tent. Dutch is nowhere to be seen, yet the lamp light inside casts its soft golden glow upon the closed canvas flaps of the tent, indicating that he might be inside. Not wasting any more time than he has to, Arthur approaches the tent, not bothering to stop and think until it's too late. His hand raises, readying to peel back the canvas flap, when all of a sudden he hears the sweet amorous sounds of lovemaking echo through the night air. Molly’s sweet voice gasps out between each movement of their squeaking cot, calling out for Dutch as the unmistakable sound of skin slapping skin penetrates through the thin canvas walls, revealing exactly what’s occupying Dutch’s time tonight.

“Oh, Dutch. Don’t stop,” she encourages through strained, unabashed moans of pleasure. Dutch’s deep, husky voice murmurs back something unintelligible, but the increased squeaking of their bed and the filthy little noises coming from Molly are a clear indicator that Arthur should be stepping away to give them some privacy. Embarrassment washes over him, causing a faint rosy flush to heat his face and bloom across his cheeks. For once, he's grateful for the distraction from his current frustration. On most nights, he'd find comfort in your presence, seeking you out to vent his grievances as a distraction from the ever-present aggravation that seemingly follows him around these days. But tonight, he just wants to retreat to his tent, away from everything and everyone, to try to calm down before he says or does something he regrets.

He strides past the dying campfires and tables that are askew from daily camp activities, and his mind tirelessly races from thought to thought, stealing his attention away from his surroundings. If Arthur had even bothered to look, he would have spotted your sleeping form laid out upon his bed the moment he stepped inside. You had been waiting for him all evening. After working yourself to the bone doing laundry, dinner prep, and other camp chores for Ms. Grimshaw all day long, you wandered your way over to Arthur’s tent in search of a quiet place to sit. Part of you wished to find him seated right there on his cot, wanting to simply have a conversation with the man who has stolen your heart, but to your disappointment, he wasn’t anywhere to be found. So, you waited for him.. And waited until the very idea of waiting became too tiresome and you unknowingly fell asleep.

Sneaking away from the gang for private talks with him has been one of your favorite things to do since you joined the gang so long ago. Y'all have always had a knack for avoiding the company of others. But somehow in the midst of squirreling yourselves away, both of you have come to find that you'd prefer being alone together. Eventually, this led to many nights where Arthur would seek you out just to speak his mind, allowing you to see the world through his eyes for a short while. You have not only embraced Arthur's thoughts, but in doing so, you have captured his heart all the same. If it weren't for you, he's certain he'd have lost his damn sanity long ago.

Arthur takes that dusty old gambler's hat off his head and runs his fingers through his hair, taking a moment to calm himself down. His eyes glance over the things laid out upon his bedside table before catching a glimpse of your figure awash by the pale moonlight in his periphery. Your hair is sprawled out over the small blanket you've rolled up into a makeshift pillow; curls flowing like a roaring waterfall, laying a mess, and finally free from the bun that was atop your head earlier in the day. His eyes rake over your voluptuous figure, noting every dip and curve from your plump waist and hips to the ample swell of your breast hidden by a layer of clothing. The moment his mind registers that your presence isn't a dream, his eyes soften and his mind no longer races with anger. You are his peace, the only thing in this world that he cherishes above all else.

Sighing softly, he finally discards his hat from his hand and places it onto his nightstand before working off his worn leather jacket and satchel, resting them on the back of the chair nearest his shaving mirror. And while he's on his feet, he takes the time to carefully roll down the canvas walls of his tent, unraveling them with the quiet precision of a mouse, and securing them in a few simple knots to hide you two away from the world.

It's quite dark by the time he wanders over to the cot, dark enough not to notice himself brush against your legs as he takes a seat on the edge of the old creaking bed. The familiar, welcomed-warmth of his body pressing against your shins rouses you from your restful slumber. Your eyes flutter open to find his figure perched next to you, shrouded in a darkness so thick that you are sure you're still dreaming. His head and broad shoulders are slumped over as he begins working off his dusty boots, caked with remnants of mud and manure.

"Hmm... Arthur?" Your voice floats through the quiet darkness, laden with fatigue and clearly carrying the lassitude of someone who could fall back asleep at the drop of a hat.

He quickly glances over his shoulder at the sound of your voice, his eyes already adjusted enough to the shadows to see your tired face staring back at him with confusion. He silently curses himself for waking you. "Shhh, Darlin'. Don't wake up on my account. I'll be done in just a minute," Arthur lightly grunts out the last word as he struggles to remove his right boot.

Even in your own weary state, the exhaustion in his tone isn't lost on you. Thinking it best to rouse yourself as quickly as possible to free up his bed for him, you sit yourself up and will yourself awake with a slight stretch. "'S okay. You need rest more 'n me."

"No. You was restin' 'fore I got here. Go 'head and lay back down." He isn't having any of your courtesy tonight. He's worn out, far too tired to argue with you about whether or not it's appropriate for you to share his bed for the night.

The rest of the gang, aside from John, Abigail, Susan, and Hosea know nothing about the true nature of y'all's relationship. Although, the rest of the girls have picked up on the changes you've brought about in Arthur since your arrival so long ago now. Seeing him get all soft and doey-eyed at you over these last few weeks has most definitely tipped them off about what y'all really get up to when you're out running errands together. But they catch wind of you sleeping in his tent tonight, it will all but confirm their suspicions. And yet, you just can't bring yourself to move from the comfort of Arthur's cot with him sitting so close to you.

"What time is it?" The question falls from your lips, carried on the soft currents of a gentle breeze pushing through the tent flaps. Fine sinewy muscles flex beneath his shirt as he leans over to work off his other boot and you are powerless to admire the shape of his body beneath.

A muffled grunt escapes his mouth the moment he finally frees his aching feet from the confines of his boots, "Late," he simply replies.

You take a deep, cleansing breath, allowing the tranquility of the night to settle around you like a soft, comforting blanket. Outside these walls, no sounds of chatter or lively activity can be heard, aside from the gentle hum of crickets by the riverbank and the faint sounds of a squeaking cot stopping abruptly. The gang is unusually quiet, the air filled with repose now that Arthur's returned safely to you. Only a few stragglers tend to the campfires, their focus solely on themselves, interested in anything beyond the flickering flames; not even the sounds of Dutch and Molly or Arthur's irritation can disrupt the peaceful bubble encompassing Clemen's Point tonight.

The plush heel of your palm rubs over one of your eyes as you flit them toward the tent entrance, watching how the wind slightly ruffles the bottom of the canvas. It's only then that you realize that Arthur has tied down the walls for privacy on your account. Normally, he wouldn't bother setting up the walls before collapsing on the cot for a few restless hours of sleep. But tonight, he's gone out of his way to ensure your comfort. Your heart couldn't feel any more full of love for this man by your side, a man who puts your well-being above all else, even above his own. Never did you think that love would have been like this for you: sitting in the comfortable silence of privacy for lovers when that luxury is rarely afforded for women like you. But despite your gratitude for his thoughtfulness, a pang of guilt gnaws at you knowing he made the extra effort while you took up residence in his bed, a cot that's barely big enough for the two of you given your plump frame.

In an attempt to make up for taking up so much space, you roll yourself forward along the thin mattress and quickly slide past him, crawling toward the foot of his bed where his trunk of clothing is kept. You've decided to give him his space for the night, even though in your heart, you'd prefer to stay. Before your foot even slides off the trunk to touch the soft grass below, you're reminded of John stopping by Arthur's tent earlier in the day.

Through a half yawn, you speak, not giving Arthur the chance to catch-on to where you're headed, "'Fore I forget: John stopped by while you was out."

Arthur slightly leans back as his fingertips mindlessly fumble with the buckle of his gun belt. The slight clicking of the metal rings out as he works to remove the clunky accessory from his body. His strong back brushes against you as he moves with the comfortable ease he's come to enjoy over these last few weeks of secretly being yours.

"What about it?" His concentration is split half between himself and the presence of your body behind him.

Your words don't register in his mind until he's completely removed the belt from his body. He figures it was that stagecoach job he reluctantly handed off to John; it had completely slipped from his mind until this very moment, much like yourself. The cool metal filigree atop his trunk moves under your feet as you rest them just shy of slipping off its edge, causing the hazy memory to play out behind your tired eyes.

You were just settling yourself in, resting your weary body on the edge of Arthur's cot, just as you're doing now. Little beads of sweat accumulated on your forehead from working out in the intensity of Lemoyne's miserably humid heat. Grimshaw had you and the rest of the women working on camp chores, which you hadn't complained of, since it usually occupies the time until Arthur's usual return. However, the day was far too hot for you to not complain about the harsh conditions she had y'all in. Eventually, evening came and you were finally finished with the laundry, allowing you a moment's rest to seek out the comfort of Arthur's cot.

In the midst of wiping your brow down with one of his neckerchiefs you'd secretly swiped, the hard thump of boots hitting grass caught your attention. You'd anticipated Arthur's arrival, but something didn't feel quite right. The boots didn't move with Arthur's measured stride; they scuffed the grass and dirt, signaling a different, but familiar presence. The moment you look up, you spot John standing at the entrance of the tent, not at all surprised to see you sitting upon his cot as if it were your own.

For a brief moment, his brow furrowed in a mix of frustration and exhaustion. It was as if he was caught between the two warring emotions, each pulling him equally. Clearly, he expected Arthur to be back already.

"He not back yet?" The gruffness of his voice has you believe the former, rather than the latter.

"Not yet," you say in kind, hoping to ease some of his burden. "Was you needin' him for somethin'?"

John did and the news certainly wasn't going to sit well with Arthur at all.

When the thoughts finally coalesce within your fatigued mind, you internally grimace knowing that Arthur isn't going to like the reality of the situation. Gentleness has always been your strong suit, especially when it came to dealing with half of the bull-headed men in camp. So, you lace your words with the softest tone you can manage, "Said it weren't as much as y'all had planned on: about fifty-dollars tied up in what little him 'n Charles found."

And you were right. The news doesn't sit well with him at all. All of the compiled frustration of working a nothing-lead and now knowing that the other job didn't pay well either boils beneath the surface of his skin until he explodes like a whistling kettle. Preventing himself from lashing out at you, Arthur kicks his boot toward the other side of the tent, knocking it into the chair. The loud thunk of its sole hitting wood claps harshly and causes you to flinch, startling you fully awake from the suddenness of noise and his movement.

"Every goddamn day it's some shit," he spits through his teeth.

Although you know he'd never intentionally hurt you, the anger in his voice sends a cold shiver down your spine and your stomach flips and churns in knots. Usually, you'd blame yourself, reprimanding your big mouth for even opening up to mention something that you knew wouldn't bode well for his weary mind. But you're in too much of a shock to even consider self-deprecation as an option. Your wide eyes search through the darkness, watching the shadowed outline of the man you love heave in a deep breath to steal his nerves. His shoulders slump forward and head hangs low as he rests his elbows on his knees, utterly defeated from the compiled anger and exhaustion coursing through him.

It's at this moment that you remember the job Dutch sent him on earlier in the day; Arthur didn't want to go and had very little sleep after working on yet another lead that barely got them anywhere. If it had been left up to you, you would've made Arthur stay right here in this bed to get some rest like he deserves. You would've taken care of him so tenderly, but, as usual, what Dutch wanted would have far outweighed any of your concerns. You've learned to recognize the pattern of these situations by now, and given Arthur's aggression, assuming that today's job didn't go quite as planned would be hitting the nail right on its head. You test the waters with a quiet question, "Lead didn't pan out today, did it?"

The soft shake of Arthur's head, coupled with the shadow of his palm running over his face tells you all that you need to know: no, it hadn't gotten him any farther than where he had started. Another useless effort. Your heart aches watching him struggle with so much weight on his shoulders. No matter how strong Arthur might be, he's just a man struggling to carry his own burdens, let alone everyone else's. Ever since settling down here, Dutch has placed so much responsibility on him that you've wanted to scold the man for even mentioning Arthur's name in passing. He's worked himself thin and thread-bare, barely having any time for himself outside of the time he spends on the road traveling from place to place at Dutch's convenience.

Empathy for the man that you've fallen in love with so long ago breaks your heart, aching in desperation to relieve some of his pain. Instead of walking away, keeping to yourself, and silently shouldering any of the blame for setting him off, you choose to stay the night. Despite knowing full well that the girls will have their gossip circulating by morning, Arthur's needs are far more important than any snickering comment or playful jest that'll inevitably come your way.

You scoot back where you were and lean toward him with less apprehension than what your words had suggested. Resting your delicate palm between the broad expanse of his shoulders, you feel him tense at the soft slip of your tender touch over his shirt. The tips of your fingers glide over his shoulder and silently take purchase on the taut muscle there. With a gentle, yet firm pull, you coax Arthur back toward you.

"C'mere. Lean back 'n talk to me..." Your dulcet tone pierces through his irritation, encouraging him to rest in your awaiting arms.

Arthur slowly reclines back, allowing himself to unwind in your embrace as his much larger body sits snugly against your plump bosom. Relaxing doesn't come easy for him. Hell, you'd be surprised if it had, given the high tensions between him and Micah these days or the tiresome back and forth between the two rival families in Rhodes. He has every right to be terse and tensed up like a snake ready to strike, but you aim to comfort him even if that means you risk getting bit. Silence hangs in the air between you, aside from the gentle breaths and the occasional strained grunt catching in the back of his throat while he struggles to get comfortable against you, due to the remaining stress insisting on clinging to his tired body. Your loving hands splay out over the firm expanse of his chest, feeling the steady and reassuring thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palms as you try your best to soothe your brooding lover. It's as if your mere presence cracks away at the anger lingering in the stiff tendons and taut plains of muscle along his torso until he relents and finally lets go. His body relaxes back into you as if he were sinking into the plush, luxurious drapery and bedding found in the finest hotels of Saint Denis; much like the bedding of the room he'd paid for the very same night he had whisked you away to bed you properly for your very first time.

He's silent for a long while, almost reluctant to burden you with his troubles. So, you take it up on yourself to start the conversation by spilling what had happened to you earlier in the day, thinking it might earn a laugh or two, "Well, I'm sure my day weren't as rough as your'n," you hum. "But I did fall off the dock, landing my hind-end right in that water."

The image would usually cause a humorous snort to escape him, but the irritation still bristling at his nerves prevents him from reacting with anything else other than a huff of annoyance, "I told ya to watch your footin' out there. Ain't no use to nobody if you get yourself drowned."

Fortunately, as he chides you his words begin to lack much of the anger from moments ago. But you sigh softly anyways, relenting to his incessant need to protect you from life's dangers, despite being able to handle your own, "I know, I know..."

With a few buttons of that old blue work shirt popped open by your deft fingers, the smallest opening there is just big enough to slip your hand inside and rest it up on the soft but wiry hairs at the very center of his chest. "You shoulda seen me, though," you murmur as you lean down toward his ear, lowering your tone as you press your cheek to the side of his head. "Was drenched head to toe, clothes clingin' to me like feathers on a wet chicken."

He sulks, trying to stay mad at anything and everything he can to give into the bristling anger at the back of his mind, but he can't. No, not when he can clearly envision you all soaked and surprised from falling into that cold lake. A faint smile curls up the corners of his lips and then, just as he almost chuckles, he clears his throat, holding his laugh back. However, you catch on far too quickly for him to play it off so easily.

You gasp softly in mock surprise as if offended by the idea of him laughing at you, "Arthur Morgan. Are you laughin' at me?"

That's when his temperament breaks, giving way to the huff of laughter rumbling through his chest. "I ain't laughin' atchu, per say..." he counters. "Just maybe at the thought of what ya mighta looked like comin' up outta that water: madder 'n hell, hair clingin' to your head," and as if to illustrate his point, Arthur reaches his hand backward and turns his head to try and catch a glimpse of you in the thick shadows, barely making your face distinguishable to his eyes, as he brushes his fingertips over the bits of hair clinging to your forehead from the muggy heat.

Though you narrow your eyes in mock annoyance, you lean into his calloused fingertips, accepting the gentleness of his touch while a giggle of your own creeps up into your throat, "Oh? Is 'at so? Maybe next time I find you out on that dock, I'll think 'bout pushin' ya in 'n lettin' you see how it feels."

He huffs out a skeptical breath and raises an eyebrow at the very thought of you even trying something like that with him. It'd be a futile effort and one that you truly wouldn't consider without the clear consequence of him pulling you right down with him.

And just as soon as the laughter came, it was gone again, replaced instead with a comfortable silence that settles between you two once more, giving him some space to think about what's happened to himself today. Long before the days of your arrival, Arthur would keep to himself and dwell on the ever-present burdens troubling his mind, brooding for hours. But with you, he feels a safety that men like him are rarely afforded.

"Well, if ya think fallin' in Flat Iron's bad..." he continues, "Try goin' halfway 'cross the state lookin' for a man that don't exist. Then when ya find someplace to get a drink, ya end up catchin' a few stray hits from some drunken bastard."

A soft gasp enters your lungs at the revelation. Another fight? You lean over his shoulder, reaching to take his scarred chin into your hand. It's hard to see through the inky-black darkness of the night, but even in the haziness, your eyes can make out the bruising along his jaw, the harsh scrapes of knuckles cutting over his cheek, and the jagged cut on his upper lip. It isn't a rare sight to have him come back battered and bruised by some job from time to time, but that still doesn't quell the uneasiness in your heart at him going through such pain and aggravation.

Your eyebrows furrow in sympathy for your rugged cowboy, eyes softening to match as you breathe out, "Oh, Arthur."

He's quick to dismiss your concern with a soft sigh, pulling away from you to lean forward and distract himself from your sympathetic gaze, "Ah, don'tchu go 'n worry yourself over me none, Darlin'."

Being fussed over or thought of so tenderly still isn't something he's used to; he's shown you that time and time again. But it never deters you from trying to make things better, to make things easier on him however you can. Whatever turmoil Arthur's got rolling about in his mind is far from the usual and it takes patience to understand; a patience that he finds only you can give.

You reach your hand out toward him. The delicate ends of your fingertips reach up to brush over the nape of his sun-kissed neck, grazing over the ends of his slightly overgrown hair, silently making a note to yourself that you'll trim it for him tomorrow. His body shuffles slightly backward, leaning in to accept your touch while he slips off his suspenders: pulling them down his shoulders heavy with burden, before taking his time to unbutton that tattered old work shirt you're so used to seeing around his muscular frame.

"'Sides..." he starts. "I did have some good that came from today."

"What's 'at?" you hum softly with a lilt of dryness. "Hittin' that feller back?"

He can't help the chuckle rising in his throat at the dry sarcasm touching your words. Arthur shakes his head softly, "Nah, Darlin', " the last word strains from his lips as he rises to his feet with a groan, leaving the safe comfort of your touch as he stands to undo his pants.

He glances over his shoulder, peering down at you through the darkness with a smirk curling up at the right corner of his mouth. Watching as your sweet eyes follow his every movement, Arthur turns to face you, allowing you to gaze at him as he slowly pushes the brass button through the eyelet at the top of his riding pants. The fabric opens effortlessly, revealing the red cloth of his union suit underneath. The sight of him before you, suspenders hanging loosely on either side of his long legs and his pants aching to be peeled from his strong form has your lips parted in awe at the man standing mere inches away from you.

He continues from just seconds before, "Seein' you laid out on my bed, purdy as a dream."

After stepping out of his pants now crumpled around his ankles, Arthur lowers one knee upon the cot nearest your thighs. He leans over you, using his thick fingers to tilt your chin upward, meeting his crystalline eyes. "Was one helluva sight I could get used to seein'."

The low timbre of his voice sends a shockwave of desire straight through your heart and into the aching pit of your stomach. Your lips draw up into a shy smile, and a faint dusting of pink envelops your cheeks just like the moment you'd first professed your feelings for him under that canopy of trees he led you through so blindly. Although it hasn't been long since that fateful night, the closeness of your relationship has escalated so quickly that your head and heart dizzy at the mere mention of his name.

Arthur's calloused thumb brushes over the supple swell of your bottom lip, enticing you to part them just for him. You comply, of course, unable to resist how a ghost of his touch makes you so pliant beneath him. And when he leans down to meet your lips with his own, your heart swells with tender affection. Those warm, slightly chapped, but pleasantly plush lips are heady as they connect with a passion that stokes the burning coals of desire in the very base of your core.

"Been waitin' to use that one for a while, hmm?" You hum contently while blindly guiding your hands toward the flare of muscle encasing his ribs. God, how you could worship this man and never tire of feeling how warm, how strong he is beneath your palms.

"Depends. It workin'?" He murmurs, smirking cockily against your lips.

Your mind begins to spin as the calloused pad of his thumb dips from your chin and swipes over your jawline. His fingers splay out over the side of your neck, fingertips gripping you with tender passion to hold you in place. He could easily break you, bend you with his finger and thumb as if you were nothing more than a twig beneath his rough and weathered hands. Never have you felt so small and fragile, always knowing in your heart that you took up much more room than other women. But, when you're with Arthur, he makes you feel as delicate as the petals on a beautiful flower, something so precious and worth loving; it's so much more than you'd ever experienced in your whole life. He touches you so tenderly as if you were made from nothing more than ash, a veritable pile of matter waiting to slip through his fingers at any moment.

You want to hum your praises to your lover, to let him know exactly how much you've wanted this, how much you've missed him, how well he's kissing you, touching you... But you can't. There are no words. He's stolen them from you, drawing all the air out of your lungs with his lips, leaving you gasping for the air coated in his divine masculine scent: sweet tobacco, wood ash, and mossy earth. He encompasses you, wrapping one arm around your waist as he pulls you close to his body, all the while shuffling himself forward to join you on the small cot. Your back presses against the hard wooden frame of the wagon making up the other half of his tent. He presses against you, holding you close to his strong body as he slides his right hand from your jaw, trailing it down over the soft skin of your neck, and down to your chest, where he heatedly palms your breast hidden just beneath your blouse. To have him touch you like this, like a man frenzied and dying for a taste of intimacy, has your head spinning and your heart on the verge of exploding if it hadn't already; for all you know, you could've died the moment his lips crashed into yours, and all that's left is a heaven you'd only dreamt of.

A low growl of appreciation rumbles through his chest for the plumpness of your body. Most men do not know the fine pleasures that extra curves on a woman can bring. But Arthur sure does. And oh how he worships your full figure, despite your opinions about yourself. His large, calloused palm shifts his attention to your other breast, kneading you tenderly while his lips work from your mouth, and instead, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses over your jawline and supple neck.

His name is a breathless sigh across your trembling lips as you allow your hands to explore his body in return. Touching over the large expanse of his torso and gliding your fingertips over the worn fabric of his union suit, you desperately search for the button that would bare him wholly to you. In the time it takes you to undo one of his buttons, his skilled fingers undo two of yours. Button after button unthreads upon both of your bodies, though his hands are much quicker at ridding you of your layers, leaving them strewn about on the ground until he's stripped you down and laid you beneath him in nothing more than your chemise and bloomers to conceal your decency. Arthur then crawls over you, his movements deliberate and enticingly slow as he cages you in with his hands pressed into the thin mattress on either side of your head. Shadows danced and shifted restlessly, playing tricks on your perception as you try to focus on what little of Arthur you could see through the haziness, making the absence of light feel alive. To feel him above you like this has your stomach in knots, tightening with a firey passion that's ready to snap at any given moment. Hearts are pounding, thrumming wildly against your ribcages like birds desperate to escape the confines of your chests. You hear it, hear how his breath shutters with each wild thump of his heart, and you feel it in his breath as it puffs over your cheek. He's losing himself to you and you him, slipping so quickly that rational thinking is no longer of use. You need him and he needs you.

The flaps of his union suit hang loosely from his body, allowing your hands to reach in and press flat over his heated skin. He shivers slightly at the contact, his muscles tensing and flexing beneath the tender meeting of your palms placed upon his scarred, goose-pimpled flesh. Your fingertips ghost over a scar on the right side of his ribcage, causing your face to crinkle with sorrow for what hardship your lover, this great outlaw, has had to endure in his lifetime. The damaged tissue is the result of a nasty fight he had as a young man: when someone stabbed him with the broken end of a beer bottle; they had aimed to kill him, but he had survived. The spot still aches with the memory of Hosea digging out the shards of broken glass from the angry, bloodied wound. But somehow, the way your delicate touch brushes over that old scar with such love and care causes the outlaw's skin to tingle, and his cock to ache with the pride of knowing that you love him so.

He takes his time with you here, laid out beneath him like a perfect little thing he's captured and kept safe by hiding you away in the privacy of his tent. After the day he's had, he wants to savor every bit of loveliness he's blessed with in your presence, so he can't rush this with you, not now. Arthur takes his time admiring you, letting his eyes rake over what he's able to see, and feeling what he cannot. Leaning down close enough to your face to capture that seductive glint in your glittering, lust-blown eyes, Arthur searches for any change within them as he maneuvers his right hand away from the mattress to trail along your sensitive flesh. The rough pads of his fingers ghost over your thigh, caressing the plump deposit of flesh along your middle, snaking up over your collarbones, and over your neck in search of your delicate face before sealing your mouth with his own in a kiss so tender you whimper from the initial contact.

Shivers of anticipation roll through him as your body responds to his touch: back arching off the bed, hands pulling on the nape of his neck to hold him down and assure that his lips won't leave yours, and the way your bloomer-clad hips roll upward in search of some much-needed friction. God how he could spend hours with you like this, letting his hands roam over your body to make you shiver and plead for any ounce of affection that he can give you. Your needy state is only exacerbated by the slight tremble in your thighs as he snakes his hands down over the pillowy flesh, seeking out the waistband of your bloomers. Ridding you of the cloth separating your pussy from his line of sight is an easy feat: the clad, slightly damp undergarment peels away from your plump hips with ease at the help of his precision; the Lemoyne heat causes the clothing to stick to your slightly dampened skin, but dammit if the temperature pales in comparison to how heated Arthur makes you feel. He tosses them down onto the ground, and places his hands upon your knees, spreading them apart as he sits above you to admire the feeling of your plump body beneath him.

His hand is unhurried and exacting, gently brushing his calloused knuckles down over your inner thigh, then lightly petting them over your soaked need covered by a soft thatch of hair. He can't see you fully, but that does nothing to stop his mind from envisioning how your cunt glistens with slick, all for him. The moment he presses his fingertips to your seam, parting you with the practiced precision of a lover, he lets a low, ragged breath escape his nose in appreciation for how wet you are. You shiver and instinctively try to close your knees from the pleasant surprise of his touch, and fuck does it feel good to have him brush over your folds like that.

"Always so ready, ain'tchya?" He murmurs, a teasing lilt to his voice as he takes his time in savoring the feeling of your slick upon his fingertips.

Your hips involuntarily twitch, bucking upward into his hand, seeking out his fingertips to make him swirl them over your aching little clit. You want him to touch you right where you need him, feel him right on that little spot upon that nub of nerves that makes your mind swirl and your body careen into a blissful orgasm. But he doesn't give that to you, not yet. He wants to work you over slowly, savoring every little sound he can draw out of those pretty lips. You're far too shy to answer him directly, instead favoring to cover your face with your forearms as he takes pleasure in taunting you like this. But the moment his fingertips threaten to part your folds, you let out a delicate little noise, someplace between a whine and a prayer to let him know that you're in no mood to endure his teasing tonight, "Arthur... Please."

Oh, how he loves to hear the sound of you begging; he's already half-hard at the idea of you wanting his touch, let alone hearing how desperate you are for it. He answers your prayer with a long, smooth stroke of his thumb parting your puffy, wet folds. You keen at how just a simple touch causes your stomach to flutter and your slit to clench around nothing at all. Your thighs, thick with strength, covered by a layer of squishy softness, part for him, relaxing lazily as he guides his thumb over each of your labia.

It was nearly impossible to get you to lay like this for him a few weeks ago; you'd been concerned about the unsightly appearance of your inner thighs: scarred over with dimples and imperfections, as well as the slight discoloration of having them rub together after so many years of being a larger woman. Most women that you've seen naked, don't have the same ailments upon their bodies as you have on yours. Just the other day when bathing with some of the girls in the lake, you'd noticed that even on Karen's body, a woman closer to your size, still didn't have the scars or discoloration across her skin in the same way that you have. And that night that Arthur had you laid out for him for the very first time, he'd noticed that apprehension in you, taking it as having second thoughts. But once you had explained how you felt about your own body, he hadn't even given the idea a single thought; his own body is mauled up, covered in old and ugly scars, and carrying more than three colors from all his time spent out in the sun. So, he couldn't have cared less about some scars, a little extra hair, weight, or even the discoloration over your thighs. What he did care about, however, was making sure that you felt loved in spite of it all. And now, it feels no different. To have you spread your legs for him like this, without a single worry holding you back, is a goddamn treat.

Fuck how good it feels to have the soft press of his thumb tease over your cunt, tracing the delicate path between your weeping entrance, to your swelling bud with a pressure so teasing and light that you squirm to feel more. Your plush lips tuck between your teeth to hold back any sounds that give away what you two are doing in here after dark, but it's useless; the lewd sounds of his thumb circling over your clit echo throughout the tent: a dead giveaway to anyone that dare walk by. Holding your breath like this isn't easy, not when the pounding of your heart echoes in your ears and your chest feels as if it's being seared from the inside out. A ragged gasp finally inhales through your nostrils, desperately trying to fulfill your body's need for air when you can no longer restrain your breaths.

He huffs out a low chuckle in amusement at the state he has you in: clearly desperate and in need to have your clit rubbed just the way you like it.

"Hmm.. Hear that?" He rasps out before going silent, letting you hear the sounds of your own slick being spread over your soaked cunt. He only continues when he finally reaches your clit, circling over the throbbing little nerve-ending to make you sigh out in pleasure for him. "So goddamn wet. All for me."

In a blur of movements, Arthur's chapped lips and teeth skim over your knee, slowly working their way down over your inner thighs. He nips at you, earning a few little squeaks and giggles until he kisses over your plump mound. His thumbs take hold of either side of your cunt, spreading you open to let the night air hit your wet skin. It's pleasant like this, to feel yourself spread out beneath him like a meal ready to be devoured and dammit if he ain't starved for a taste. Being eaten out has quickly become one of your favorite acts of intimacy in recent weeks; his tongue is so skilled at finding spots on you, making you come so deliciously, that most days it's all you've been able to think about. Hell, it's all you're thinking about now as his head sinks down to your core and his hot breath fans out over your aching need. His tongue slips out of that perfect mouth and flattens out over your seam, lapping at you once to earn him that little sigh of pleasure escaping your throat.

Your hands immediately seek out his head, combing through his slightly sweat-dampened hair as he swirls the blunt tip of his tongue over your clit.

"A-Agh, Arthur.. N-Not so fast," you whine out in protest, yet your hips bucking up into his mouth says otherwise. But he relents, nonetheless, giving you a moment of reprieve before he delves back in at the same pace.

He's aiming to make you cum quick and hard: slithering his tongue over your clit with the precision of knowing exactly what side and spot makes you writhe beneath him. Just left and then a little upward beneath that little hood of skin and he has you singing for him. Explicitves roll off your tongue one after another in between sweet little sounds that praise him for what effort he's putting in just for you. To hear you, feel you crumble beneath him like this is better than any robbery or score he gets out on the road. But just before he lets you come, he pulls his head back slightly and puffs cool air over your clit, making you whine.

"Shh.. Shh.. 'M gonna let ya cum, Darlin'. Don'tchu worry 'bout that none. 'M gonna take real good care of ya," he hums lowly as his lips and bristly scruff brush over your quivering inner thighs.

His promise isn't far off from fulfillment, not when he sinks his tongue into your heat and presses his opened mouth over the entirety of your cunt. He sucks hard, feeling your walls constrict around the wriggling muscle of his tongue as he laps inside your spongey center. Your thighs tremble with need as he fucks you with his mouth and slurps up your slick, drinking in as much of you as he can and relishing the tangy sweetness of your delectable taste. You throw your head back against the rolled-up blanket you had been using as a pillow earlier in the night, all while he eats you out like a man who's desperate to consume you.

But the aching throb of his cock, constricted by the thin fabric of his union suit, is far too angry for him to ignore. He's got to have you, now.

As he shuffles back up to his knees, leaving your cunt longing to cum on his tongue, you flutter your eyes open and snap your head up to try and catch a glimpse of what he's doing. Clearly, you ain't pleased with him teasing you like this, but when you feel his fervent movements, you realize that he's trying to work off his union suit. He wastes no time it peeling it away from his torso, but the moment he starts to tug it down his thighs, allowing his weeping cock to spring free, he nearly topples over and just about slams head-first into your body. Thankfully, he catches himself in the knick of time, grunting out a few curses as he grows impatient with his incapability to slide that damn fabric off his legs.

Amid his struggle to bare himself, you can't hide the giggle creeping up your throat as he curses under his breath, frustrated with how the fabric insists on clinging to his muscular legs. You help him slide the old red union suit off his body by digging your heels against the back of his thighs and pushing it down the long length of his legs until it reaches his ankles. The undergarment hangs loosely off his feet, causing him to kick it haphazardly off the side of the bed, letting it fall onto his trunk to skirt down on the grass below.

The instant his turgid length brushes over your inner thigh it twitches with the anticipation of feeling your tight, wet walls clamped around him, milking every drop of spend nestled away in his balls; spend that he so desperately wishes he could drain right inside of you. For now, however, just a single brush of your fingertips against him is enough. He has to hold his breath as he guides your delicate palm over his velvety shaft to stroke the needy ache away; if he isn't careful, he'd cum just like this. He hisses, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth as your fingers wrap around him and your thumb seeks out the weeping slit of his blunt tip. Arthur is, by no means, a small man: his legs are long, torso strong and wide, feet and hands are like bear paws, and his cock.. God, his cock is big. You could use both of your hands to stroke him and still, there'd be enough room for his tip to be entirely untouched. But you make sure as you stroke him with one hand, you pay extra attention to his tip, smearing his drooling precum over as much of him as you can, even down to the dark and wiry curls along his base and balls.

He's trying so hard to hold himself back, but with each tender pass of your thumb over that sweet spot along the underside of his tip, the last remnants of his patience crack away. You feel him crumbling like this, crumbling into a frenzied mess of low-hummed breaths and grunts through gritted teeth, and you fucking love it. Before you can even think about the desire roaring in the cavernous pit of your stomach, aching to be quelled, he smashes his lips into yours so hard that you're sure one of you is bleeding. The pain of his busted lip splitting back open is an angry reminder of the frustration still lingering at the back of his mind; he's as tensed up, pent-up, as a taut rope ready to snap.

With a quick movement, he swats your hand away, preventing you from jacking him into a fast climax. Then, in one swift motion, he grabs hold of your thighs and forcefully yanks you toward him, making the round swell of your plump ass plant firmly against the hard front of his strong body. Your thighs spread out, squishing over and conforming to the contour of his hips, the intimate contact leaving you both ragged and breathless. Your heart drums a frantic rhythm in your ears, drowning out all other thoughts and sensations that belong to you alone. It's as if your mind has descended into a tangled web of strangled noises and glorious sensations that only Arthur seems able to untangle or soothe. The faint outline of his body nestled between your thighs is a constant reminder that nothing beyond this moment, beyond him hidden away with you inside of this tent, matters.

The hard length of his turgid pride parts your folds, gliding over the slick thatch of curls usually concealing your cunt from his eyes, but with his sight hindered, he can explore every single nook, roll, and crevice without you shying away. His weight bares down on you as he holds your legs into the crook of his arms, nearly bending you in half as he drags his cock over your seam. It feels so good like this, even though you can hardly breathe with the thickness of your thighs pressing against your already plump stomach, but when the tip of his cock knocks into your clit, it makes the strained pain well worth it. The back of your hand flies over your mouth as he continues on like this, pleasuring himself and you with each agonizingly slow thrust. Hearing your ragged, strangled half-breaths, he releases your thighs, leaving them to splay out lazily on either side of his hips as he leans down to steal a tender kiss.

Upon breaking his lips away from yours, the low hum of his voice finds its way through the haziness of your lust-broken mind as he murmurs against the shell of your ear, "Gonna take ya just like this..."

Chapped lips skim over your jawline and trail to your lips, where he gives you another tender kiss filled with gentle affection: polar opposite to the rough sex-driven outlaw you've gotten a taste of tonight, but aligning perfectly with the man you fell in love with all those years ago. Scraped knuckles skim against your slick heat as he slips his hand in between you both and presses flat over the thick, dark curls at the base of his throbbing length. His fingers spread wide over his pubic bone, holding his cock between his middle and ring finger, stiffening himself outward to seek out your clenched entrance. With a slight pullback of his hips, he guides himself to your slit, catching right on the taut muscle before pressing forward and splitting you open.

A soft cry hums in the back of your throat and he shushes you so tenderly, sliding his hands over your knees and down your shins to soothe the ache he knows you're feeling. You're so fucking tight, hardly different from the first night he took you and bedded you properly back at the Saint's Hotel. It nearly shatters him when your walls flutter around him, squeezing and pulling him in inch by inch as if you were carved out just for him to sink into. He stills only for a short moment, letting you feel him nestled up against your cervix before he slides himself out and enters you again with a sharp snap of his hips. Lingering anger and frustration from the shit day he's had still pulsates at the back of his mind, desperate to be released as the tension in his body rises.

The tight walls of your cunt clench onto him for dear life as jolts of pleasure and pain rack through your body.

Behind the shield of your palm, you cry out, "A-Agh, Arthur!"

You're trying your best to be quiet, to still your ragged breaths and hide your whimpers, but he's making it incredibly difficult. Each slow drag of his cock coming out of you with a satisfying pop, only to pierce you with a hard roll of his hips, sends you reeling. You're seeing stars, shaking from the pleasurable burn of the passionate fire he's stirring within you. Strong hands grip your hips, keeping you still as his thrusts guide you into a steady rhythm that makes the old wooden frame creak and groan with every subtle and sharp movement that your bodies make. Being discreet has left his mind entirely, no longer concerned with what sounds are coming out of his tent as he fucks you good and proper. No, he couldn't care less when the sounds of your slick pussy squelches as he presses himself flush against you and groans against the pulse point of your neck.

"Don't want ya hidin' them purdy sounds, Darlin'. Let 'em out for me," he grunts out between slow but hard thrusts.

Usually, intimacy like this is savored in the shaking breaths and whispered little sounds only audible to your ears, but tonight... Tonight Arthur is something else entirely. Primal. A damn, dirty outlaw. You love this new view of him, but you can't allow yourself to let the others hear. What if someone were walking by? Or Hosea or Dutch hear you two going at it? You wouldn't be able to look at them for a week! But he doesn't give you much choice in the matter: snaking his hand down between your bodies, his muscular forearm presses against your plush belly while his thumb immediately finds your clit.

"O-Oh, God," you whine as the pad of his thumb circles over you, followed by his name dripping off your tongue like the sweetest honey. "At's it... Such a good girl takin' me so deep. Mmm.. Gonna cum 'round me ain'tchu? Gonna give me a real good one, baby?"

God damn him if his mouth ain't filthy. The way he croons out those little praises and words of encouragement has your climax building faster than you ever could have anticipated. And the swirling of his thumb? It has you shaking, whining, pleading, practically begging for your release as he talks you through it, "C'mon, Darlin'... I feel ya squeezin' me real tight," he praises, "'At's it. Focus on me."

With one more swipe of his thumb over your sensitive clit and his cock hitting that sweet spot right against your cervix, you're tensing, digging your heels into the thin mattress, and cumming around him so hard that you see white. It takes everything in you not to scream, but the strangled sound coming out of you is loud enough to warrant some head-turning if anyone were awake. The moment your walls flutter and start milking him, he falls forward and drops down onto his elbows to cage you in. His thrusts are relentless as he takes his anger out on you in this way, using every movement of his body to release the bristling anger clutching onto his mind like a damn vice grip. No matter how fervent and frenzied, he's still careful not to hurt you, always thinking about how good he's making you feel while chasing his own release.

Arthur isn't a man of many words, but when you're gripped around him like this, clutching him with your arms, legs, and your fluttering pussy, he is downright mouthy. "Oh, such a good girl for listenin' to me. Shh.. Shh. I gotchu, baby. I gotchu."

His mouth hovers over yours, claiming your lips as he kisses you hard and possessively. Moans spill out of you, traveling through the expanse of his throat until it hums within his chest and he echoes one back. To talk like this with him, in a language only two lovers could understand, is far more intimate and pleasurable than anyone could ever know. Arthur is yours and you are his, no ownership or proprietary claim, but just the pleasant knowledge that both of you choose to love each other is enough.

With a few more rolls of his hips, he's nearing his own orgasm: length twitching and engorging as his balls tighten. In desperation, he quickly climbs off of you and pulls his cock out from your core. His right hand tightens into a fist around himself, and although you can't see it, you hear the lewd, effortless slide of his hand vigorously pumping over his tip like his life depends on cumming for you.

Finally, his orgasm hits him, working its way out of his tightened balls and spurting over your plump mound and belly. If he could see his spend on you like this, it'd be enough to make him cum all over again. But both of you are far too exhausted to even consider that so soon. You're still shaking, panting heavily as he lowers himself down onto you, not caring that his sticky spend is now covering the front of his body as well, as your sweaty bodies come down from such an enormous height.

His touch traces a slow, deliberate path down your leg until his fingertips reach the softness of your hip, where he gives your flesh a gentle but firm grasp. Reveling in the smoothness of your skin and the feel of your curvy form beneath his palm, he lets out a slow exhale through his nose. The heat of his breath spills over your neck and shoulder, doubled by the heavy breaths leaving his lips as he lazily peppers your clammy skin with kisses.

After a long stretch of quiet spent nestled into his hair, breathing in the comforting remnants of campfire intermingled with his musky scent, your breathing finally begins to steady. Slowly, your senses return to you one by one, like pieces of a puzzle falling back into place. Shock and disbelief jolt through your entire being as it finally hits you how easily he manipulated your body with his own strength and skill as a lover. You'd heard of men being rough with women, but never did you think it could be this pleasurable.

Your voice finally cuts through the relative silence, carrying a deep sense of satisfaction and astonishment with it, "Wh-here in the hell did that come from?"

An amused chuckle rumbles inside his chest, slightly huffing out of his nose as he slightly pushes himself off of you to gauge your reaction, "Reckon I were a little pent up. Why? You like it?"

To say you liked it was an understatement, but you'd like anything as long as Arthur were right there with you to experience it just the same. While his right hand slides up over the plump contours of your body, appreciatively grabbing at the plushness of your stomach and breasts, he lovingly brushes a few stray strands of hair off your forehead stuck there by the sweat covering your body. You hum softly in agreement to his question, deciding that you did enjoy this different side of him you hadn't expected, despite his rough exterior.

"Mhmm.. 'S always good with you," the loving words you murmur cling to his heart and earn you a pleasant kiss that tastes like the remnants of his busted lip.

As his lips trail back down over your jawline, his beard delightfully scratches over your sensitive skin, causing you to hum in appreciation for him loving you like a man who worships the very ground you walk upon. Your own body follows his lead, fingertips glide down the entire length of his back, tracing the contour of muscle that hint at the immense strength lurking beneath. You can't help but marvel at his shape, this man you love so dearly, and how his body was molded for love and carved from such a hard life. While your fingertips glide across his muscled frame, you can feel the subtle shift of his body as he adjusts himself on top of you, notricebly more relaxed than before: a clear testamanet to the calming eddect your touch has on him.

Curiosity peaked, you murmur, "You relaxed now?" as your fingertips idly trace the two little dimples that grace the base of his spine, just above the firm and muscular curve of his ass.

An amused smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, obviously enjoying the path your fingertips are carving out over his back. He'd never admit it, but he loves it when you grab him unabashedly, palming his ass like he so often does to you. The warmth of his cock brushing over your leg, hardening much faster than he expected for a man his age, tells you all you need to know.

He agrees with you, humming softly against your chest as he inches himself down to where his mouth hovers over the plump swell of your breasts, "Thinkin' that we just might need a little more time for relaxin', don'tchu?"

A/N: Big thanks for the divider from @saradika-graphics and the beautiful gif from @sunwingsunset, please go send them some love for their work! <3

Other creators that expressed interest and drew inspiration from: @subpopizzy , @cassietrn , @coltermorning , @redwritr, @zae-heeyyy, @twola , @amorgansgal

Please do go check all the blogs I tagged! You surely won't be disappointed!

As always, sending my love - M. <3

#Thank you for reading - from the bottom of my little Appalachian Heart <3 #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x reader smut #arthur morgan #rdr2 community #grumpy #fluff #arthur morgan rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #john marston #rdr #dutch van der linde #molly o'shea #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year ago

Text

Honey Girl. Chapter Two.

Previous Chapter. Next Chapter. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Pairing - Dad's Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky try to navigate what it means to be soulmates - and how difficult it is to keep your hands off each other.

Warnings - smut. cursing.

Word Count - 4k

Author's Note - part two!! thank you SO much for all of the love on part one - it has made me immensely happy. you're all the sweetest and i'm so grateful. i'm going on vacation in a few days, so i'm taking a hiatus for a few weeks as i won't have cell service. so, consider this my parting gift to you <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3 please, send me your thoughts, predictions, desires!! I will get excited with you!!

Masterlist. Inbox.

Sunlight streams through the billowing white curtains, rousing you slowly. The gentle breeze cools the room, salt sticking to the air. Warmth is seeping into the glass of the windows, encouraging you to kick your sheets to the foot of your bed, limbs stretching and rolling.

You wake, and for a moment, you feel perfectly at peace. You feel light, tranquil, relaxed. You flex your neck from side to side, yawning as you do it. You notice that the sun is already up, beaming into your bedroom. It's going to be a very warm day, you think. I better pack sunblock.

You glance to where your bag is thrown haphazardly on the floor, contents spilling everywhere. It's unlike you, to not put something away properly. You take pride in being a tidy person. You must have been exhausted when you got home last night.

That's when it hits you.

Bucky.

The events of yesterday coming crashing down around you like a tidal wave. Hearts racing, hands interlacing, lips melding. Bodies tangling, breaths matching, knees buckling. Two souls, tied together forever.

Your Tethering.

To Bucky. Your Dad's best friend Bucky.

His absence is suddenly all you can think about. He's not here, and you feel like half of your heart is missing. You ache. There's a discomfort that you know can only be cured by the presence of your soulmate.

You're deep in thought when your phone rings, startling you. It's Bucky.

"Mornin' sugar," he drawls. The low tone of his voice is like molten honey, gorgeous and golden.

"Good morning, Buck."

You hear him exhale at the sound of your voice.

"I know we said we'd meet at ten, but can we make it earlier?" he asks. Then, quieter, "Feel like I can't breathe without you."

He murmurs the last part, as if it's a secret. Something sacred.

"Of course, Buck. I can be ready by nine?"

"Thanks, sweet girl. I'll pick you up?"

"Perfect. See you then."

"See you then."

It's almost painful to hang up the phone. It's like there's a gravitational force in The Universe, willing you against it. You ignore it defiantly and press the red button, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

There's something in your gut telling you that this might just be the first day of the rest of your life. You certainly can't go back to the way things were. You're not sure if you want to.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Bucky arrives at 8:45.

You're in the bathroom with the door closed, so you don't hear him pull up. You feel it. Like a magnetism, alerting you to his whereabouts. You breathe a little easier immediately, knowing he's outside.

You grab your bag and the picnic and pull on your shoes, eager to see him. You feel like a teenager again, giddy with anticipation. Apart from, this isn't your average first date. No, this is your last first date ever. This is a first date with the man you're bound to spend the rest of your life with. No pressure, you tell yourself. One step at a time.

Your heart kicks up in double time, thundering against your ribcage. You inhale deeply, cracking your knuckles. You can do this. It's just Bucky.

You bound down your stairs, practically running to his truck. Bucky's leaning against the passenger door, the wind ruffling his hair, sunlight reflecting off his steely blue eyes. He's wearing shorts and a white button up, which is blowing gently in the breeze. His sleeves are pushed up his forearms, exposing his gorgeous tanned skin. He has several shirt buttons undone, accentuating his broad chest, sunglasses tucked into the breast pocket. He looks so handsome. So classically elegant. Like he belongs in an old movie - a perfect leading man.

He eyes you carefully, gauging your reaction. You can tell he doesn't want to overstep, worried about pushing you too far too fast. You walk over and run your fingers across his exposed chest gently, tracing a path up his neck until you're caressing his cheek. His stubble tickles your fingertips, causing a smile to curl at the corners of your mouth. You finally meet his gaze, and all your stress is forgotten. You feel peaceful again.

"Hi," you whisper.

"Hi, pretty girl," he murmurs back, hands finding your waist. "You alright?"

"I'm okay. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," he grins. "So, how do you feel about a day of sailing? You, me, and the ocean, baby."

"I think that sounds perfect."

He opens the car door for you, helping you up and into the passenger seat. He climbs in, clicking on his seat belt and starting the engine. Before he pulls away, he turns and looks at you, holding your stare for a moment. Bucky reaches for you, lacing your fingers together, resting your intertwined hands on your thigh. He begins to drive away, taking you towards the ocean. Towards your future.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You know nothing about sailing.

Luckily, you don't need to. Bucky's quite content to keep you sitting pretty on the top deck while he does all of the work, pulling and tying and knotting. The crisp white sails billow in the wind, the ocean waves providing a steady, constant soundtrack. Birds fly overhead, sunshine beaming down, the wood underneath you warm and smooth. It's paradise.

You're soaking up the sun rays when you hear a click. You sit up to see Bucky holding his film camera, pointed right at you.

"Creep," you tease.

"Just want to have something to look back on. Our first day as soulmates. It's an occasion, you know," he grins.

He moves across the boat to sit next to you, thigh pressed up against yours. He's so close you can taste the spearmint on his breath. You tangle a hand in his hair, caressing the back of his head.

"I brought you a few new things to try," you tell him. "Some recipes I'm testing. I want your honest opinion. No sugar coating. Promise?"

"I promise," he winks, holding up a scouts honour. "I wouldn't lie to you, honey."

You reach over and grab your picnic basket, unwrapping various beeswax packages and laying them out in front of you.

"Okay - we have white chocolate and pistachio muffins, raspberry and lemon macarons, earl grey and lavender cookies and carrot and cinnamon cake."

You glance over at Bucky, expecting him to be deciding what to try first. Instead, you find him watching you carefully, gentle smile etched across his face.

"What?" you laugh.

"Nothing," he beams. "I just... I love it when you start talking about food. You're passionate. You light up."

"Don't make it weird," you joke, slightly taken aback by his honesty. He did promise not to sugar coat.

He reaches for a macaron, eager to try one after you mentioned them yesterday. He pops one in his mouth, and lets out a groan that can only be described as pornographic.

"Fuck," he moans. "This might be the best thing I've ever eaten."

"You promised you wouldn't lie," you laugh.

"I'm not," he chuckles, placing his hand over his heart. "I swear to you. These things should be used as medicine. They'd cure anything."

"Shut up," you tease bashfully, bumping your shoulder into his.

He tries the other sweets one by one, complimenting you immensely. He's so specific in the way he commends your baking. He comments on certain flavours, and textures, and the way everything melts on his tongue. He really takes the time to think about what he says. It's so intimate.

"You're gonna do this for a living, right?" he asks, turning to face you.

"I hope so," you confess. "It's all I want to do. Going to culinary school was a huge risk, but I did it. It was difficult, but they were also the best four years of my life. I just learned so much. I want to put it all into practice."

"I think you should. It'd be such a waste if you didn't. You're so talented, sugar."

"Thanks, Buck," you grin. "I just don't know where to start."

He thinks for a moment.

"If you could do anything, anything in the world - what would you do?"

He's looking at you so intensely, you almost want to shy away. His steel blue eyes are boring into you, reading your mind, figuring out your soul.

"I'd... I'd open a bakery of my own. I want a lot that overlooks the ocean. With big windows."

Bucky smiles gently, adoration written across his face.

"I'd be your most loyal customer," he vows. "Oh, I have a better idea - I'll be your quality control. I'll taste test everything before you sell it. You know, just in case."

"Just in case," you laugh. "Right."

"It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it," he winks.

The sound of your laughter is like dopamine to Bucky. It fires off neurons in his brain, receptors buzzing and alight. He almost feels drunk off the sound, floating above ground.

You relax into him, laying down and resting your head in his lap. He's warm, and soft, and so comfortable. You could lie here forever.

He runs his fingers through your hair gently, playing with the strands. The repetitive rocking of the boat lulls you into an easy sleep, the sunlight wrapping around you, taking the place of a blanket. Bucky watches you drift off, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

A particularly strong gust of wind wakes you, rousing you from sleep. Your fingers are interlinked with Bucky's, head still resting on his strong thighs.

"How long was I out?" you ask, looking up at him.

"Like, twenty minutes? You looked peaceful, thought I'd let you rest."

"Sorry, Buck," you chuckle.

"Hey, don't apologise. I'll take it as a compliment. You know, they say you only sleep around the people you feel safe with."

"They say a lot of fuckin' things," you laugh, repeating his words from yesterday.

"I do, though," you say after a moment. "Feel safe with you. It's not just the soulmate thing. I always have."

Bucky leans down to press his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. He pulls away and kisses the spot where you were just connected.

"We should talk about us," you murmur, sitting up to face him.

"Uh oh. Are you breaking up with me?" Bucky jokes, nudging your knee with his.

"Yeah, right," you scoff. "As if you'd be so lucky. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."

"I'll survive," he winks. "But we should. Talk about us."

You look at each other for a moment, carefully. You notice that the ocean is reflecting in Bucky's eyes, waves gleaming and blue.

"I don't know where to start," you whisper.

"Maybe start at the beginning," he suggests, reaching out to rest his palm on your thigh, fingertips rubbing comforting circles into your skin.

"I... I think - I think we should do exactly that. Start at the beginning."

He nods at you reassuringly, urging you to continue.

"I want to start slow. Really slow. I know we already know each other, but this... this is different. We don't know each other like this."

"Like soulmates," he agrees. "It's a whole other level. A league of its own."

"Exactly. I know we're Tethered, but, I think we should treat this like a normal relationship. We should date, and just... take this step by step."

"One step at a time," he confirms. "Prepare yourself, honey. I'm about to date the hell outta you."

"Someone save me," you laugh, throwing your head back. "All those poor girls that have come before me - they had to put up with this?"

He laughs with you, the sound rumbling in his chest.

"Trust me, sugar, you're different."

Bucky leans forward and slots his lips to yours, hands going to your waist to pull you closer.

Kissing your soulmate is unlike any other feeling. It's complete serenity. Two bodies, designed by The Universe to fit together perfectly.

Your fingers thread through Bucky's hair as you move to sit in his lap, straddling him. You grind your hips forward, illiciting a groan from the both of you.

Bucky slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting the sugar there. He can't get enough. You're so sweet and soft underneath his hands, underneath his tongue. He wants more.

He tips you backwards, so you're lying flat on the deck. Bucky moves to kneel in between your legs, prying them open gently. He kisses his way from your ankle to your knee, occasionally nipping at your flesh. He likes the idea of there being a mark on you that he left. He feels more protective of you than he ever has of anyone. The feeling vibrates through his bones, fires up his nerve endings. He needs to feel every inch of your skin as soon as possible, or he's convinced he'll burst into flames.

He smooths his hands up your thighs, fingers catching in the waistband of your shorts. He shimmies them down your legs, and inhales sharply at the sight before him. You're laid out on the deck of his boat like a goddess, the white shirt adorning your body matching the white lace underwear underneath. The sun rays are beating down, illuminating you, making you glow from the inside out. Bucky can't breathe, looking at you. He feels like all of the oxygen has been stolen from his lungs, replaced with pure desire.

You're breathless, panting, chest heaving. You're shaking with anticipation, willing him to do something. Anything.

"Bucky," you whine. "Please."

He's never heard a prettier sound. It's like angel song, the way you say his name.

"Patience, sweets. I thought we were taking it slow."

"Asshole," you laugh, poking him in the chest with your toe. "You're a hypocrite."

"Am I?" he smirks, running his fingertips across the inside of your thighs.

"Yes. You can't kiss me like that and then tell me to have patience."

"My apologies, ma'am."

He leans over and kisses you again, biting your bottom lip as he pulls away. Bucky slips your underwear down your legs and tucks them into the pocket of his shorts, ignoring your scoff as you watch him do it.

"Come here, pretty baby," he murmurs, tugging at your hips to pull you closer to him.

He nudges your core with his nose, inhaling deeply. It's filthy, the action, but it makes you ache with want. He licks into the crease of your thigh next, tasting the salt on your skin. Your hand flies to his hair, tugging the chocolate strands. You whine again, and Bucky commits the sound to memory.

He surprises you by sucking your clit gently, causing your hips to buck up towards his mouth. He splays one hand across your stomach, holding you down. He uses his other hand to insert a finger into you, groaning at your warmth. He crooks it up, and you keen.

"I know, baby, I know," he coos, adding a second finger.

You're not sure if it's because of the glaring sunlight or because of Bucky, but there's a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin, dripping down your temple. You're burning from the inside out, white hot heat running through your veins.

He thrusts both fingers in and out of you steadily, curling them on the up stroke. You throw your head back, hips wriggling and writhing.

"Where you going, pretty girl?" he drawls. "Come here - that's it."

He pulls you back to him, fingers never stopping. He looks up at you, and notices that you've thrown a hand over your face, shielding yourself.

"Don't go shy on me now," he practically purrs, smiling when you move your arm away. "Most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Fuck," you moan, suddenly glad you're in the middle of the ocean. The sounds you're letting out are filthy.

"I know, pretty baby. I know."

His fingers push you closer and closer to the edge, speeding up slightly. You're whining, keening, hips bucking up into him. You can't stay still. You feel like you're on fire, red hot electricity running through you. It's never been like this with anyone before. It never will be again.

"You're close, honey, I can feel it. You're almost there," he drawls. "Atta girl. Come on, baby. You got it. Good girl."

His low, honeyed words throw you into your climax, back arching off the sun warmed wood. Bucky talks you through it, encouraging and praising you in hushed murmurs. You see stars, bright white patterns flashing behind your eyelids. The world goes quiet for a moment, and all you feel is peace.

Bucky brings you back to reality by rubbing soothing circles into the bare skin of your thigh, still muttering softly. He lets you catch your breath before leaning over and kissing you gently.

"You okay, sugar?"

You smile at him in a daze, still floating on air.

"I'm good, Buck. Very good, actually."

He laughs at your response, moving your hair away from your face. You sit up to look at him, admiring him carefully.

"You're so pretty," you whisper. "I mean, I've always known it. But now, it's so... blinding. You're the most beautiful person in the world."

He's not sure how to process your words. He's never felt so loved, so safe, so appreciated before. It's overwhelming. He doesn't know what to say - so instead, he kisses you hard.

"You're the sweetest girl in the world, you know that right?" he whispers against your lips.

He moves to sit behind you, so your back is resting against his chest. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He smells like warmth, and salt, and home.

"I don't think we should tell my parents," you say lowly, afraid to ruin the moment. "Not yet, anyway."

"I agree," he reassures. "I think we should figure this out first. Figure us out."

You lean up and peck his lips gently, pulling away to trace your fingertips over the contours of his face.

"It's gonna take a while to figure this out, isn't it?"

"That's the thing, sweet girl. We have all the time in the world."

You relax back into his arms, letting his steady heartbeat lull you into complete tranquility.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You spend all day on the boat with Bucky, soaking up the sun. Your shirts are billowing in the wind, hair blowing in every direction. The ocean rocks you both in routine motion, gentle and calming.

He teaches you the basics of sailing, sitting knee to knee with you while you repeatedly tie knots into pieces of rope. He stands behind you comfortingly as you pull and tug at the rigging, supporting you only when you ask for help.

The two of you sit tangled together on the deck, enjoying your picnic. You take a moment to rub sunblock into Bucky's shoulders, ignoring the heat that rises in your chest when he groans in delight. He's irresistible. This is more than just lust. This is a magnetism, an almost animalistic connection. It's quite literally written in the stars.

The both of you are clearly reluctant to go home. You sit in Bucky's truck outside your apartment for hours, talking about nothing and everything. You don't invite him upstairs. You know that if you do, you'll jump his bones instantly. You've both agreed to take this slow. You have to start being strict with yourselves, or you'll just keep ending up in bed.

Eventually, your stomach rumbles, making Bucky chuckle.

"You should go. Eat something."

"I know. I just... I like being with you."

He leans over the centre console to press a kiss to your lips, revelling in the way you taste like the ocean breeze.

"There's no one else in the world I'd rather be with," he murmurs against your mouth.

You pull away and take a deep breath, preparing to leave Bucky for tonight.

"Thank you, for today. It's been perfect."

"Perfect day for a perfect girl," he winks, making you both laugh.

"One step at a time."

"All the time in the world," he echoes.

"Goodnight, Buck," you whisper, moving in closer to press your forehead to his.

"Goodnight, honey girl," he whispers back, pecking your lips quickly.

He jumps out of the drivers side to help you down from the truck, holding your hand carefully. You smile at the déjà vu. He does too.

You look back at him once more before closing your front door. He's already looking at you, his eyes never once leaving your frame, smile never leaving his face.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You're curled up on the couch when your phone rings, startling you from your peace. You look at the caller ID in confusion.

"Stella? Hey - you okay?"

"Hey, you. Long time no see, huh?"

"It's been a while," you laugh. "I didn't expect a call from you."

"I'm sorry we haven't talked in so long. I've been super busy - I'm opening my own café! It has a bookshop inside it too - oh it's gorgeous, you wouldn't even believe it."

"That sounds amazing, Stella. I'm so happy for you, wow."

"I'm actually calling because I have something to ask you."

"Ask away, Stell."

"I have a sort of... proposition for you. An offer, if you will."

"You're really building the anticipation here," you chuckle.

"Sorry, sorry! So, I'm gonna need a Head Baker. I can't do it, because I'll be manager, and I'm the owner which is a tough job in itself. Opening a café is fucking difficult, you know!" she laughs, before continuing. "You'd have complete creative control - you'd design your own bakes, everything would be completely down to you. There's quite literally only one person in this world that I'd want to do this job, and it's you."

You almost can't believe what she's telling you. It sounds perfect. It sounds like a dream.

"Stella - are you sure? This is a huge deal. You want me?"

"I only want you. I can't picture working alongside anyone else. We made such a good team in culinary school, and we always said we'd find each other in the future."

"I... I don't even know what to say."

"Say yes!" she encourages, giggling down the phone.

"Yes!" you echo, giddy with joy. "God, Stella, yes!"

You're smiling from ear to ear, unable to wipe the grin off your face. Your dream job has been presented to you on a silver platter. You'd be stupid not to take it.

"I mean - when do I start? What should I wear? Do you want a set menu, or can I change it up all the time? Vegan options? Gluten free?"

"I can send you all of the boring stuff in an email - contracts, salary information, all that shit. You can quite literally do whatever the fuck you want, girl. I trust you completely. I trust your culinary skills even more."

"Oh my god, I'm so excited. Thank you, Stella. Seriously. This is just amazing."

"I can't wait to have you here with me again!"

You process for a moment, trying to make sense of what she just said.

"Wait... what? Where?"

"In California. The café is here, in California!"

You can't hear her next words due to the ringing in your ears. Your chest tightens, your hands ball into fists, your breathing becomes ragged.

There's a million thoughts racing through your mind, and you can't quite get a firm grasp on any of them.

Bucky would never leave this place. This is his home. I can't ask him to abandon his life here - I wouldn't want to. We've been soulmates for two days. What about his job? His friends? Would I leave everything behind and move across the country for him? I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I can't have my cake and eat it too. He'd give everything up for me in a heartbeat - I can't let him. It's not fair.

You're suddenly intensely aware - you have to make a choice.

Bucky or your dreams.

Tag List -

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

tag list continued here <3

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muniimyg · 4 months ago

Note

what happens if I ask for more bbydaddy jk? 🍼🍪

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (3) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request closed

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

one thing that you've always liked about jungkook is that he never got in your way.

from the beginning, he has always been supportive and more than willing to compromise (aka accept the short end of the stick) if it was about your happiness. besides, he has always offered and insisted... and it's not a selfish thing to want more for yourself, right? so, you can't help but take it. you're grateful and beyond relieved that the father of your child is such a loving man. you know it. you believe it.

so, it baffles you he finally does it.

jungkook stands in your way.

"hey! what are you—w-what? jungkook, get up."

but it's too late. jungkook falls to his knees, keeping his chin up. he looks at you, glossy-eyed and utterly heartbroken. he has a bouquet of flowers in one hand while the other is placed on top of his heart.

"i'll be miserable if you do this to me."

"but this isn't about you—"

"make it about me."

a moment passes and his pleading eyes speak beyond his four words. you see it. you see how weak he is and how much of his heart he's laying out for you.

jungkook then takes the silence as a sign to continue his confession. "i'm begging you to fucking choose me right now. please, ___. you can be mad at me forever but d-don't—"

"okay, okay," you yield, bending down and cupping his face with your hands. jungkook can smell the perfume on your wrist and remember how you always wore it on date nights.

he sighs heavily, holding back his tears.

"jungkook, i'm not mad at you. what are you talking about?"

truth be told... he doesn't know either.

all he knows is that he isn't ready for this. he can't live with himself knowing that you chose someone else (you haven't and you didn't). it's a fear that plagues jungkook's mind, body, and soul. it's what drives him crazy and what keeps him sane.

he needs to get you back.

"what's going on, honey? talk to me.." you insist, moving your hands to his hair. you push the strands that cover his eyes away and smile at him gently. "come on, jungkook. it's just me."

"i love you," he says ever so sincerely. "i can't... i d-don't think i'm ready for this."

"for what?"

shrugging, he pushes the flowers in between you two. "you want flowers? you want to go on dates? you want to be loved right? god, ___... i can do it. you know i can—"

"jungkook, i know you can—"

"i can be here seven days a week. i can be more than zion's dad. i love it—i love him, really! but i also love his mom and i'm so fucking tired of acting like the past 8 months of our separation is working for me... because it's not. i miss you all the time and i h-hate... i hate that you're trying to move on."

your eyes widen and your heart breaks.

he's right.

the past 8 months have been such a difficult adjustment. you wish you had more time to confide in him, but you don't. life doesn't stop and it's so draining to wait for people to catch up to you.

"i hate this too," you admit. "a-and if you think i'm trying to move on... you're stupid."

he pouts. "if you're not trying to move on, then why are you going on this date? with nam joon at that... seriously? he's the most boring person in your firm."

you laugh.

"my colleagues said they would stop pushing us to be together if i went out on one date with him. do you know how much time they take away from my cases? all they do is gossip about him and i. you know i hate that—"

jungkook glares at you. "then just tell them we're back together."

"you want me to lie?"

"be honest with me," jungkook tugs you close. "one of us is a liar and it's not me."

you gulp.

"it's not that easy—"

"what do you want, honey?" he asks you. his gaze drops to your lips and then back to your eyes. "i can give it to you."

"jungkook..."

he tightens his lips and places his hand on the back of your neck. gently, he inches you closer to him.

"fuck it. to hell with what you want.”

then, he crashes his lips onto yours.

he kisses you like he's missed you his entire life. he places his hands on your waist as you two make your way inside your apartment. he shuts the door with the back of his foot and guides you to the bedroom you both once shared.

there, he sets you on the bed and begins to undress you. he kisses your waist, easing your mind, and earns pretty moans from you. it boosts his ego. it makes his dick so fucking hard.

god, you fuck him up so bad so fast.

once you’re naked, he takes a second to look at you. he deeply inhales and throws his head back. when he looks at you, you roll your eyes and he winces at you.

“my woman is so beautiful. you are so fucking divine, honey. i’m—goddamn. i’m so favoured.”

you stick your tongue out and toss a pillow at him. he dodges it and laughs.

as you relax, he then begins to strip. you watch, hungrily and more than ready for what's to come next. once he's bare, he towers over you. just as he kisses you and slides his fingers between your wet folds, your phone starts to buzz.

you and jungkook turn your attention to the corner of your nightstand. he groans in annoyance as the buzzing continues. reaching over, he checks the notification.

[5:57pm] 7 missed calls: atty. kim nam joon [now] incoming call: atty. kim nam joon

jungkook hisses.

then, he turns to you and smirks. cheekily, he says; "your vibrator still broken? we can use this instead."

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jk smut scenario #jk smau #jk series

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goldfades · 9 months ago

Note

hi i’ve been loving your celly! can i please request 31. "you're such a softie. why do you hide it?" / "i don't really try to hide it, it's just that nobody has ever cared enough to see it." where luke says the first thing to reader? thank you <3

𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | lh⁴³

♡ ─ word count | 652

♡ ─ warnings | comfort/hurt, kinda angsty but becomes fluffy at the end!

♡ ─ ev's notes | ofc, i hope you enjoy!!

Luke's lips curved up into a smile as you spoke, warmth filling his heart. It was a hard week for Luke, practices were hard and after a particularly bad game, it seems like everyone was against him - even his own brother. But as you spoke, none of it seemed to matter anymore. You made him feel okay again, even after the roughest week he's had in a while.

In that moment, the weight of the difficulties he faced seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of comfort and reassurance. The troubles of the world faded away as he focused on the warmth of your presence.

"It wasn't your fault." You whispered as Luke laid on your chest. "Hockey is a team sport and just because you messed up once doesn't mean you're a shitty player, okay?"

Luke closed his eyes, taking in the gentle rhythm of your heartbeat beneath him. He didn't know he needed to hear that until you had said it.

"It's just... hard, you know?" Luke murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I let everyone down, especially Jack."

"Jack isn't mad at you, he's mad because of how the game turned out. No one knew you guys were gonna get your asses beat."

Luke let out a laugh at your bluntness as he nodded. "Yeah, you're right."

The sound of Luke's laughter was like music to your ears, a sign that the self-doubt were beginning to disperse. You continued to run your fingers through his curls, offering a comforting touch as he opened up.

"Jack's your brother and he won't be angry forever, he had a tough loss, too. Give him time, okay baby?" You spoke gently as he gave you another nod. Luke nestled closer, appreciating your warm voice and the gentle strokes through his hair.

"Yeah, I know. It's just hard, you know?" Luke mumbled, his vulnerability laid bare as he continued. "I hate feeling like I disappointed him."

Your fingers traced calming circles on his back as you replied, "I get it. But people who care about you, like Jack does, will understand that everyone has their off days. What matters is how you pick yourself up and move forward."

"I'll give him some space," Luke said, determination flickering in his eyes. "And I'll make it up to him. Show him I'm not defined by one bad game."

A comfortable silence settled in between you before Luke spoke up again with a smile. "You're such a softie, why'd you try do hide it?"

"I don't really try to hide it. It's just nobody has cared enough to see it." You shrugged. Your words hung in the air, a reminder of the vulnerability that laid beneath the surface. Luke's gaze softened, his heart swelling.

"Well, I see it," Luke murmured, his voice filled with honesty. "And I'm grateful for it, more than you know."

A tender smile graced your lips, the weight of Luke's gratitude warming you from within. In that moment, the walls you had built around your heart began to crumble, replaced by the warmth of Luke's love for you.

"I guess you caught me," you replied in a playful tone. "But only because you're worth it."

His hand found yours, fingers intertwining in a silent pledge of mutual support and understanding. Luke felt a sense of belonging wash over him, a feeling he had longed for but never dared to hope would come true. "Thank you," Luke whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "For being you, for being here."

As the world outside faded into insignificance, you allowed yourself to relish in the simple joy of being together, basking in the warmth of Luke's love. In his presence, you felt seen, heard, and cherished, a realization that filled you with a sense of gratitude. With a gentle sigh, you leaned into Luke's touch, savoring the comfort of his presence.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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en-dazedafterdark · 1 year ago

Text

PAIRINGS: established relationship!jake x reader

GENRE: smut, fluff?

SYNOPSIS: In which you help your boyfriend relieve his stress after his schedule

WARNINGS: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), bath tub sex, shower sex, mentions of multiple rounds, oral sex (f receiving), handjob, creampie

WORD COUNT: 4k

A/N: wish this was me </3

The interviewer was asking him a question - something about how preparations for their world tour are going - and he nodded, smiling as if he was paying attention to her. He was answering the questions she was asking, but that was all; his mind wasn't on the interview. The last few weeks of preparation for this tour had been stressful and he'd had a hell of a time keeping up his happy, energetic, cheerful persona.

The only thing on his mind at the moment was going back home to his gorgeous girlfriend. His schedule had kept them apart for way too long and it was all he could do to not just run from the interview, jump in a car, and get the hell home so he could be with her.

"So, Jake," the interviewer asked. "Is there anything you would like to say before we go?"

Jake looked up. They were done? Finally. It had felt like forever, and now he could finally get some rest. "Uh," he said. "Yeah. I guess. Um, I wanna thank everyone who has supported us. And to all our fans, I'm looking forward to seeing you all again."

And to his girlfriend, he thought. I'm gonna give you the best fucking night of your life.

The interviewer smiled and gave the closing remarks, and the cameras were turned off.

The time passed by in a blur, he was so desperate to get home that even his group mates could sense his energy.

"Dude, chill," said Jay. "You're acting like you haven't seen her in years."

"It feels like it," Jake muttered.

"Oh, leave him alone, guys," said Sunghoon. "I'd act the same if my girl was waiting at home."

Jake gave his friend a grateful smile, and they both laughed as Jay and Heeseung made exaggerated gagging sounds.

Mercifully, there was little to no traffic, and they were back home within the hour.

"I'm gonna go see my girlfriend," Jake announced, ignoring his groupmates' good-natured teasing.

"Don't you want to eat first?" Jay asked, opening the fridge and poking around inside.

"I'll order in. See you guys tomorrow," Jake called, already heading towards the door.

The apartment complex wasn't far from the company building, and soon Jake was pushing open the door and stepping into his shared home.

He was met with an immediate wave of exhaustion, and he sighed heavily. It had been a long day.

"Y/N?" he called. There was no answer, but the door to their bedroom was closed.

Jake walked over to the door and opened it, smiling softly. You were sleeping, curled up on top of the sheets, the light from the lamp on the bedside table illuminating your soft skin.

"Jake..." you murmured, not even opening your eyes.

Jake couldn't help the smile that came over his face. "How'd you know I was here?"

"I'd know your footsteps anywhere," you replied sleepily.

Jake laughed. "Of course you would.”

You sat up and stretched, blinking owlishly as your eyes adjusted to the light. "Hey, babe. Did everything go well today?"

"Mmhmm," Jake hummed, walking over to the bed and sitting down next to you. "How was your day?"

"Uneventful. But it's better now."

"Mm, I'll bet," Jake teased, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his lap. “I had a long day and I still need to wash up and eat something. Would you like to join me, or are you too tired?"

"I'm never too tired for you," you replied. "Let me go run you a bath."

Jake let out a contented sigh, watching as you slipped off his lap and padded into the bathroom, the door shutting softly behind you.

Jake was exhausted, but he was also incredibly stressed. His schedule had been packed full the past week, and he'd barely had time to sleep. He'd been trying to be strong and keep up his cheery demeanor, but it was wearing him down, and he was getting more and more frustrated and tired as the days went by.

And you could tell.

You knew Jake better than anyone, and you could see the strain in his shoulders, the tightness in his voice. You could see how hard he was working, and you wanted to make sure he knew how much you appreciated it.

You turned on the water and adjusted the temperature, waiting until the bath was filled with steaming hot water before adding a generous amount of the lavender-scented bubble bath. The scent filled the air and you breathed deeply, inhaling the calming aroma.

The water was just right, and you shut it off, smiling. You turned around, planning to call for Jake, only to see him standing in the doorway, a towel around his waist and his eyes closed, a peaceful expression on his face.

"Babe?" you said, concerned.

Jake opened his eyes, looking over at you. "Sorry," he said, shaking his head. "Just spacing out a little."

You nodded, giving him a small smile. "Your bath is ready. Come on, get in."

Jake followed your instructions, sighing as he sank into the water. He was tired, but he wasn't relaxed yet.

"Are you alright?" you asked, kneeling beside the tub and stroking his hair.

"Yeah," Jake mumbled, closing his eyes again. "Just tired."

"I know," you whispered, gently cupping his face in your hand. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Jake said, leaning into your touch.

"Still," you said. "You've been working so hard. And you're so stressed."

"I'm alright," Jake insisted, smiling at you. "Don't worry."

You weren't convinced, and you knew that if you didn't help him relax, he'd never be able to get a good night's sleep.

You leaned in and kissed him gently, your hands resting on his chest. He responded immediately, kissing you back and pulling you closer.

You smiled against his lips, feeling the tension melt away from him as he wrapped his arms around you and deepened the kiss.

"Mmm," he murmured, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against yours. "Join me.”

"Hmm?"

"Join me," he repeated, smiling.

You raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Please. I wanna hold you."

You couldn't say no to that.

You stood up, and Jake's eyes followed your movements as you stripped off your clothes. His gaze was hungry, and you felt a tingle run down your spine as you slipped out of your pants and panties. You felt a bit shy as you removed the last piece of your clothing, his eyes washing over every bit of your exposed skin.

"Come here," he murmured, and you stepped into the tub.

The water was hot, and the bubbles were thick, covering your body as you settled into his lap. Jake's hands ran down your back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You sighed, and he smiled.

"That feel good, baby?" he murmured, kissing the side of your neck.

"Yeah," you whispered, tilting your head to give him better access.

His hands continued to explore your body, his fingers skimming over your breasts and down your sides. His touch was light, and you squirmed, the sensation sending shivers down your spine.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," Jake murmured, his voice husky.

"Shut up," you mumbled, blushing.

"I mean it," he insisted. "I've never seen a more gorgeous woman."

"Stop it," you whined, embarrassed.

"Never," Jake whispered, his voice low and gravelly. "Not when you're like this."

He leaned in and kissed you, his hands squeezing your ass. You gasped, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

The feeling of his body against yours, his hands on your skin, his tongue in your mouth, his fingers squeezing your ass - it was too much. You felt your arousal pooling between your legs, and you pressed yourself against him, desperate for friction.

“Jakey… let me wash you off."

Jake groaned. "You're killing me, baby."

"Please," you said, kissing his jaw. "You've had a long day."

"Fine," Jake relented, his eyes dark with desire. He turned around, somewhat awkwardly in the small bath tub.

You picked up the bar of soap, lathering it up and running your hands over his back, massaging his sore muscles. He moaned, the sound sending another shiver of desire through you.

"Oh, fuck," he murmured. "That feels so good."

You continued to massage his back, taking your time and making sure you got every part of him. When you were satisfied, you moved onto his chest, and then his stomach, working your way down his body.

His erection was standing tall and proud, and you couldn't resist.

You reached out, taking him in your hand and stroking him gently.

Jake let out a gasp. "Oh, fuck, Y/N..."

"Shh," you murmured, leaning forward and kissing his shoulder. "Just relax."

You stroked him slowly, your grip firm. He moaned, his hips thrusting forward into your hand.

"That's it," you whispered. "Just let go."

"I...I can't," he panted, his hips moving in time with your movements.

"Yes, you can," you cooed, speeding up your pace.

He was so close, and you could tell he was on the edge. You kept stroking him, and he threw his head back, a groan escaping his lips as he came, his seed splashing into the water.

You held him in your hand, feeling him pulse. His head was buried in the crook of your neck, and you could feel him trembling.

"Fuck," he mumbled.

You smiled, letting go of his softening member and wrapping your arms around him.

"You okay, baby?" you whispered, nuzzling his neck.

"More than okay," he murmured. "Thank you, Y/N."

"You're welcome," you replied, kissing his temple.

He stayed like that for a few moments, his breath tickling your skin, his body relaxed against yours. Finally, he sat up, looking at you.

"Now it's your turn," he said, his eyes full of mischief.

You giggled. "Jake, I'm fine."

"No, no," he said, a smile playing on his lips. "I insist. Let me take care of you."

He took the soap, lathering it up in his hands and then placing them on your breasts, massaging the suds into your skin. You gasped, the sensation sending tingles of pleasure through you.

He took his time, massaging your breasts and teasing your nipples. His touch was gentle but insistent, and you could feel your arousal growing.

"Jake..." you murmured, closing your eyes and enjoying his ministrations.

"Feel good?" he whispered, his voice husky.

"Mmm," was all you could manage.

His hands traveled down your body, caressing your skin and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He slipped one hand between your legs, his fingers brushing against your folds.

"Oh, fuck," you gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily.

"That's it," he murmured, his fingers moving against you, circling your clit. Your chest was heaving and if it had been any other time you would’ve been embarrassed at the way your hips were desperately moving against his hand, but at this point all you could think about was him.

"Fuck, Jake, please," you whimpered, your body aching for him. You felt warm all over, heat rising from your legs and spreading to the rest of your body.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he purred, his fingers teasing your entrance.

"I need you," you moaned, unable to contain yourself any longer. "Please, Jake, I need you inside me."

Jake groaned at the sound of you whining his name, and his hands stilled. You opened your eyes, and he was staring at you, his eyes dark with lust.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispered, and you felt a wave of heat wash over you.

You looked up at him, your eyes pleading, and he leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring and dominating, and you couldn't help but moan.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, needing him. He broke the kiss, his breath hot on your lips, and looked down at you, his gaze full of hunger and desire.

“Come closer baby. Straddle me," he growled, his voice low and gravelly.

You did as he said, straddling his hips and positioning yourself above him.

He reached down, his hands gripping your ass, and pulled you down, sheathing himself inside of you.

You cried out, the sudden sensation of him filling you sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. He groaned, his grip on you tightening as he began to move his hips, fucking you slowly.

You were a whimpering mess, the feeling of him inside you, filling you completely, driving you insane. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, as you tried to keep up with his pace.

“Jake Jake Jake Jake..." you moaned, the sound of his name on your lips a symphony to his ears.

He was relentless, his movements fast and powerful, his hips thrusting upward as he fucked you hard and deep. His mind had gone blank as soon as he had felt your walls grip his cock, the only thing on his mind was making you fall apart.

"Look at me, baby," he murmured, and you looked up, meeting his gaze. His eyes were full of hunger and passion, and you felt your orgasm approaching, the intensity of his gaze sending you over the edge.

"Fuck," he gasped, feeling you clench around him.

He continued to thrust into you, his pace unrelenting. You were barely coherent, the sensations too much for you to handle. Your legs were shaking, your toes curled, and you were moaning his name.

"Jake, fuck, Jake..."

"Come for me, baby," he growled, his grip on your hips tightening. “Come around my cock."

You did as he said, your orgasm hitting you hard and fast. Your body trembled and shook, waves of pleasure washing over you.

He continued to fuck you, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. His fingers dug into your skin, and you felt him stiffen, his release coming seconds after yours.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." he muttered, his cock twitching inside of you.

The two of you were still for a moment, basking in the afterglow, before Jake pulled out of you, his softening member sliding from inside you.

"Are you alright, babe?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Yeah," you breathed, your body still tingling.

He smiled, the expression on his face almost boyish. "Good. You're incredible, you know that?"

"You're not so bad yourself," you teased, reaching up and running your fingers through his hair.

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you, too," you whispered, cuddling against him.

You stayed like that for a while, enjoying the feeling of each other's bodies. Finally, Jake spoke up.

"We should get out. We're going to prune. And we should probably wash up some more. We’re sitting in cum water now.”

“Gross! I don't wanna get up," you whined, snuggling closer to him.

"Come on, baby," he said, giving you a gentle squeeze. "Let's get out and shower. And then we can cuddle in bed."

"Fine," you sighed, reluctantly pulling away from him.

You stood up, the water cascading down your body, and stepped out of the tub. Jake followed suit, and you watched as the water dripped off of his chiseled body.

"What are you looking at?" he teased, noticing the way you were ogling him.

"Nothing," you said, a blush creeping across your cheeks.

He grinned, stepping closer and kissing your cheek. "Don't worry, I'll let you stare all you want later. Right now, we need to wash up."

"Okay," you mumbled, feeling silly.

Jake turned on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up before ushering you in. You sighed, the hot water hitting your skin and relaxing your muscles.

"Feel good?" he asked, his hands resting on your hips.

"Yeah," you murmured, leaning back against him.

He smiled, and reached for the body wash, squirting some into his hands and beginning to massage it into your skin.

"Hmmm," you hummed, enjoying the feeling of his hands on you.

"Like that, huh?" he whispered, his voice low.

"Yeah," you replied, the sensation of his hands on your body making you shiver.

His hands slid from your shoulder to your back, slowly reaching to the front and cupping your breasts.

"Mmmm," you moaned, closing your eyes and letting him work his magic.

"Feels good?" he murmured, his breath hot on your ear.

"So good," you breathed, your body beginning to heat up again. “I don’t think you want to just shower right now.”

"No," he whispered, his hands moving lower, ghosting over your belly. "I want to fuck you again. Right here. In the shower."

You moaned, the thought of his hands on you, his cock inside of you, his mouth on your skin making your head spin.

“Can I taste you baby?”

His voice was thick with desire, and you could feel the tension between you.

You nodded, your words failing you, and he wasted no time. He pushed you up against the wall, his lips crashing against yours in a passionate kiss. His hands roamed your body, leaving a trail of heat everywhere he touched. You couldn't get enough of him, the feeling of his skin against yours intoxicating.

He kissed his way down your body, his lips ghosting over your sensitive nipples, sending shivers of pleasure through you. His hands cupped your breasts, gently squeezing and kneading them.

"Oh, god," you moaned, the sensation making your head spin.

"Like that, baby?" he murmured, his mouth trailing lower, leaving a path of kisses down your stomach.

"Yes," you breathed, your head falling back as his hands traveled lower, his fingers teasing your folds.

"You're so wet," he whispered, his voice husky. "So ready for me."

"Please," you begged, desperate for him to touch you, to fuck you, to make you come.

"Patience, baby," he purred, his fingers continuing to tease you, sending waves of pleasure through you.

You were a whimpering mess, the anticipation nearly unbearable. His mouth found your inner thigh, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin.

"Jake, please," you moaned, your body trembling with need.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he said, his tongue darting out to lick a trail up your thigh.

"I want you to eat me out," you breathed, the words leaving your lips in a rush. "I want your tongue inside me."

"As you wish, princess," he murmured, his voice low and sexy.

His mouth found your pussy immediately, his tongue lapping at your folds. The sensation was intense, and you cried out, the feeling of his tongue against your sensitive flesh almost too much.

He explored your most intimate parts, his tongue dancing over your clit and making you see stars. You were a writhing mess, the feeling of his mouth on you pushing you to the edge.

"Jake, fuck, Jake..." you moaned, your hands desperately trying to grasp at the wet tile behind you.

He increased the pressure, his tongue circling your clit and his fingers teasing your entrance.

You were lost in the pleasure, your body overwhelmed by the sensation.

"Please," you begged, your body aching for release. "Please, Jake."

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. He gave your clit a hard flick with his tongue, sending you hurtling over the edge. You came hard, your body convulsing, the pleasure overwhelming you.

"Oh, god," you whimpered, your body trembling as the aftershocks rippled through you.

But Jake didn’t stop. His tongue continued to lap at you, his fingers pushing into you, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you. You were barely able to stand, your legs shaking and threatening to give out.

"Jake, please, I can't take it," you panted, your voice barely a whisper.

"One more," he demanded, his tone commanding. "You can do it baby. Give me one more."

You couldn't deny him, and you knew your body was already responding, the pleasure building again. His mouth worked its magic, his tongue finding all the right spots, his fingers curling inside of you. You were helpless against the onslaught, and before long, you were coming again, the intensity taking your breath away.

"Fuck," you cried, your body shuddering as you came.

He slowed his movements, his tongue languidly licking you, easing you down from your high. When you finally caught your breath, he looked up at you, his face glistening with your arousal.

"You okay, baby?" he asked, his voice rough and husky. You could barely hold yourself up, but you managed a nod.

"Good," he purred, getting to his feet. He kissed you, his tongue parting your lips, tasting you. You moaned, the taste of yourself on his tongue turning you on.

"God, you're so fucking hot," he groaned, his erection pressing against your leg.

"I want you," you breathed, your voice trembling.

"Then have me," he murmured, his hands cupping your ass and lifting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, his cock brushing against your entrance.

He pushed you against the wall, his lips crashing against yours. He entered you in one swift motion, the feeling of him stretching you making you gasp.

"Fuck," he moaned, his hips thrusting into you, burying himself deep inside of you. “Pussy so good, you were made for me weren’t you? So perfect. All mine."

"Yes," you cried, the sensation of him filling you driving you wild. "All yours."

"Fuck, yes," he growled, his hips pounding into you. You clung to him, your nails raking down his back, urging him on.

He was relentless, his hips pistoning into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over again. You were lost in the pleasure, your mind foggy, only the sensation of his body against yours and his cock inside of you registering.

You were moaning incoherently, the feeling of him fucking you taking over. He buried his face in your neck, his lips and teeth teasing your skin. You were on the edge, the pleasure building, the pressure increasing.

"I'm close," you whimpered, the words leaving your lips involuntarily.

"Me, too," he grunted, his hips slamming into you, his pace quickening.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. You felt him stiffen, his cock twitching inside of you as he came.

You were right behind him, the sensation of him coming inside of you sending you over the edge.

You came together, your bodies shuddering, the pleasure taking over. You were a panting, moaning, trembling mess, and the world faded away, the only thing that existed was the two of you and the intense pleasure.

"Holy shit," you finally breathed, when you had finally come down from your high.

"Yeah," Jake murmured, his breath warm against your neck.

You leaned against him, your body still shaking, unable to move.

He held you for a few moments, before carefully setting you down. Your legs were weak, but you managed to stand.

"I think we need another shower," he chuckled, gesturing to the mess the two of you had made.

"I don't think I can handle another round," you said, the thought of him fucking you again making your legs weak.

“Oh we’re not done, baby. I want you in my bed. All night long. But first, we have to actually shower. Then maybe dinner and drinks. And then more fun. You game?"

You nodded, the thought of spending the night with him making you giddy.

"Good. Now let's wash up and get out of here. I'm starving." And a loud grumble echoed throughout the bathroom, which could only be Jake's stomach.

You laughed, and pulled him in for a kiss. "Sounds like a plan."

"Perfect. Because there's so much more I want to do to you," he purred, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Then let's get started," you whispered, a wicked grin spreading across your face.

It would take an hour and three more orgasms for the two of you to leave the bathroom. And that was only the beginning.

#enhypen smut #jake smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen x reader #jake x reader #enhypen imagines #sim jaeyun #jake hard hours #jake hard thoughts

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kalki-tarot · 1 year ago

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CHANNELED LOVE LETTER FROM FUTURE SPOUSE ♡

my readings are for entertainment purposes only! tarot is a divination tool. it is not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i don’t take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. please be mindful of your own choices and actions ♡

PILE 1

Hello beautiful/handsome,

I saw you in the party, where everyone was busy with themselves, with their own groups. And you, you were sitting alone, pouring your own drink. You looked very beautiful to me. Just like a queen/king. Your straightforwardness and dominant behavior, is what I love the most. I crave you, dear. Oh. I can literally fight to win you. You are just like a prize. You have your priorities clear. Even if it's a run and chase, I'll follow you everywhere till my heart stops and i die.

You are very career oriented, you don't bs unnecessarily. I love your perception of life. I love how you stand up for yourself, even if you're alone. You are just like a Queen to me. You seem very distant, as if you're lost in your dreams. You have that dreamy side of yours too? I don't know. I just observe you from afar. You give me such soothing vibes, I just love being around you.

You make me forget my miseries. I love how you don't do wrong to anyone. You are very compassionate and loving. You can give love to even non living objects. You're so full of love. That makes me wanna love you, even more. Sweetheart. I love you. I want to pursue you, i want to make you mine. Do you think the same? Do you love me just the way I love you? I'm waiting for your answer.

Yours faithfully,

Love.

PILE 2

I don't have the right words to truly express what I feel. I'm not in a good place right now. It feels as if everyone has given up on me. I'm sorry if I'm I'm making you uncomfortable but certain situations are out of my hands. I feel left out in the cold. I have the responsibility of my family on my shoulders. I'm trying to make fast changes. I'm trying to do everything on my own.

I'm very repressive of my emotions. I was not taught how to deal with them. Sometimes I try to run away from life. But then I get reminded of you. I look at the night's sky, full of stars and I wonder maybe you are like a star too. Lightening the dark and cold world with compassion and warmth. You give me true strength. And I'm forever grateful for your presence in my life. I'm holding onto a lot of things right now. I know i should let everything free, even myself. It's okay to make mistakes, right?

After every storm, there is a deep silence. Where everything remains silent, destroyed and out of control. No matter what life throws at me, I'll come back to you with ten times more strength, power & especially love and respect for you. It's life after all, right? Everything comes and goes. Maybe these times will pass? But I'll love you more with each passing moment for sure.

Yours Only Forever

💗

PILE 3

I have too much of love and wealth. And that too much is being sucked off by others. I don't know what to do. Money can't buy love, sweetheart. I'm in a toxic relationship. They are taking away my everything. Literally everything.

I don't remember the last time I laughed. The money I earned through hard work, the morals and kindness my family taught me, everything is in vain. Everything is slowly leaving my body. I feel empty from inside. This person is taking away it all.

But I'm working hard, more hard, harder than even. So that I can provide you a better lifestyle. I can't expect anything from anyone. I have to do it all alone. Please remember me in your prayers. I'm afraid to let go. Everything is being taken away from me. I don't know what to do, I'm confused. I'm not sure which road to take. I believe the universe will guide me where I'm supposed to be, near you. I'm depressed nowadays. Very hopeless.

But I'm doing whatever i can do right now. I'm unable to even sleep at night. They lied to me. They deceived me. They were my life partner, but there was nothing "life-like" with them. It was just a relationship built on money. And you know how these type of things end. There is no emotion left in me. I'm blank. I don't know. They left me in the middle of the road.

PILE 4

Hello pretty soul ♡

You know what? I see you every where. Whenever I go, wherever I go. I see you, i get reminded of you, by the flowers, the clovers, the river, the clouds and even the sun! You are a beautiful and positive person! You are such a great fighter! Whatever obstacles comes between our happiness, you remove it all. I get so happy and optimistic near you, my love. I'll fight with literally anyone for you, just for you.

You bring absolute calmness and peace into my chaotic life. You are a sweet breeze flowing softly over my cheeks on a warm, sunny day making me blush. I want to take care of you and love you for eternity. I want to offer you all the love that I have inside me, just for you babygirl/boy. I want to experience new things with you everyday. You make my life feel lively. ✨️

Dear, sometimes I too get lost in my past, that was not, unfortunately that happy for sure. I got lied to, i was betrayed by someone I called mine. I can't sleep properly due to this. I get nightmares and I get so f*king scared. I feel anxious and uncomfortable. But the good news is! I'm forgetting it day by day. Just a little progress makes it a whole lot of progress. I don't want to remember all these with you. I'm working hard, I'm moving forward. And i hope you're too <3

By,

Your one and only . ❤️

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hkthatgffan · 4 months ago

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I've said this before, but this really was one of the greatest days of my life and one I'll remember it for years to come.

1 year ago today was the day me and @fordtato interviewed Alex Hirsch. A year on and having the chance to share this project at last with you all was an incredible moment. I'm forever gonna be grateful to Alex for his kindness and passion for the questions we asked. I also will be grateful for all the people who helped us along the way from @stephreynaart, who made the amazing art for our thumbnails, @brightdrawings for the 3D renders in the trailer and Rev, Lee and Reuben for helping in making the transcript.

But most of all, thank you to Hana. When I approached them with the idea, I never imagined it would become a collaboration to the extent it did and see us both meeting the creator of the show that changed our lives forever. Hana was not just my co-host on this interview, but a mentor, voice of reason and the literal MVP that made this all possible. Without them, I never even probably would have had 30 minutes to talk to Alex...let alone 3+ hours. Hana, you're incredible and I am forever indebted to you for all your help and support through this. This was our project and no matter what, I am forever grateful to have had you on this with me.

I still look back on this interview happy with how it came out. We got to do something few fans probably will ever be able to say they did. It's a moment I'll look back on till the end. Thank you to all the amazing people who helped us make this happen, all of your for watching and supporting it, Hana for being my co-host on this and Alex Hirsch for even agreeing to do this

Gravity Falls is real and it will NEVER die!!

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enhahooninurwindow · 8 months ago

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ENHYPEN WHEN THEIR S/O IS INSECURE

Pairing: enhypenOT7 x reader 🍓MASTERLIST

Genre: fluff

Wc: 250+ per member

a/n: I’ve written a few sentences in third person grammar bc I was saying all this in my head and maybe I typed it in like that sorryyy. Also I wrote this based on some of my insecurities so I hope it helps other insecure people too <3

Tuesday, 19 March. 2024

Heeseung - acne

"Hey beautiful, what's on your mind? You seem a bit off." Heeseung asked you noticing ur face getting dull. "I can't help feeling insecure about my acne. It's been bothering me a lot lately." you reply, not aware of Heeseung heart getting heavy hearing this. "Baby, please, your acne doesn't change how amazing you are to me. You're more than your skin, you're everything I love and cherish." he gently brushes ur hair back and continues, "Your kindness, intelligence, and laughter light up my world. Don't let a few blemishes dim your shine." Smiling softly, you say "Thank you for always being so understanding and supportive. I'm grateful to have you by my side." “You don't have to thank me, love. It's my privilege to be here for you, no matter what. Together, we'll overcome any insecurities and grow stronger. You mean everything to me, and I want you to see yourself through my eyes. You're not defined by any imperfections; you're defined by your resilience, your compassion, and the love you bring into my life every day. I cherish every moment with you, and I wouldn't change a single thing about you." He wraps his arms around u, pulling u into a warm embrace, and whispers, "I promise to always remind you of your worth and beauty, even on the toughest days. You're the love of my life." Feeling comforted you reply "I love you so much hee. Thank you for loving me unconditionally and seeing the best in me, even when I struggle to see it myself." "Forever and always, my love. We'll navigate through any challenges together, and I'll never stop reminding you of just how extraordinary you are." he replied.

Jay - stretch marks

"Y/nah are u alr?? You seem unwell." jay asked you taking a seat on the edge of the bed while u faced ur mirror. "I've been feeling really insecure about my stretch marks. I can't help but think they make me less attractive." "Oh baby, your stretch marks don't change a thing about how beautiful you are to me. They're a part of you, a testament to your strength and journey. I admire and love every part of you, including your so-called imperfections." He gently takes ur hands and continues, "Your kindness, your laughter, and the way you light up a room are what truly make you stunning. Don't let anyone or anything make you doubt that." Tearing up you say “Thank you for saying that. I needed to hear it from you." "I mean every word, my love. I'll always be here to remind you of your worth and to shower you with the love and admiration you deserve. You're perfect in my eyes, stretch marks and all." He softly kisses ur forehead and whispers, "You're not just beautiful; you're extraordinary. These marks are like a map of our journey together, each one a reminder of the moments we've shared and the love that has grown between us. I cherish every part of you, including these marks that tell your unique story." As u hold each other, he plants gentle kisses on ur cheeks and continues, "Let me show you how much I adore you, not despite your marks but because of them. They're a part of what makes you the incredible person I fell in love with. You're my everything, and I'll always treasure and celebrate every inch of you."

Jake - nose shape

As you both cuddled on the couch, Jake noticed a hint of sadness in ur eyes. "Is everything okay, love?" he asked gently. You hesitate before admitting, "I've always felt insecure about my nose. I wish it were smaller and cuter like others." The jake's heart sank, hearing ur words. He pulled u closer, wrapping his arms around u. "Your nose is perfect," he whispered, planting a soft kiss on the tip of ur nose. "It's unique, just like you. I love everything about it because it's a part of you." Feeling ur tense muscles relax under his touch, he continued, "You're the most beautiful person I know, inside and out. Your smile, your eyes, and yes, even your nose, they all add to your beauty. I wouldn't change a thing about you." His loving embrace and words of affirmation melted ur insecurities away. U nestled into his chest, feeling safe and loved. In that moment, u realized that his acceptance and affection were what truly mattered, and his love was the most beautiful thing in the world. He looked into ur eyes with utmost sincerity and said, "You are my everything. Your beauty radiates from within, and every little detail about you is what makes me fall in love with you more each day. Your nose is not just cute; it's uniquely yours, and that's what I adore about it. I promise to always remind you of how special you are and to cherish every part of you, no matter what insecurities may arise." He sealed his words with a tender kiss on ur forehead, reaffirming his unwavering love and devotion to u.

Sunghoon - bloated stomach

At first, when u told him about u being insecure of ur bloated stomach, sunghoon felt a mix of confusion and concern. He wasn't sure how to react at first, as he hadn't anticipated this vulnerability from u. However, as he saw the distress in u eyes, he realized that what u needed most was his understanding and support. Taking ur hands gently in his, he looked into ur eyes with a reassuring smile. "You're beautiful just the way you are," he began, his voice filled with sincerity. "Your body is incredible, and it's natural for it to go through changes. Your bloated stomach doesn't change how I feel about you. I love every part of you, including your imperfections." He pulled u into a comforting embrace. "You're so much more than your appearance," he continued, pressing a kiss to ur forehead. "Your clinginess, unseriousness, and your loving nature are what truly makes u special." Feeling the warmth of his embrace and hearing his words of affirmation, u felt a wave of relief wash over. U leaned into him, grateful for his unwavering support and love. In that moment, u realized that his acceptance and understanding were the most precious gifts u could ever receive. As the evening came, he made sure to shower u with small acts of love and kindness, like preparing ur favorite snacks and playing ur favorite music. He encouraged u to relax and enjoy the moment, letting go of any worries or self-doubt. With each loving gesture and heartfelt word, he reinforced his commitment to uplifting ur spirits and making u feel cherished.

Sunoo - smile

Sunoo's eyes widened with surprise and concern as he listened to u express ur insecurity about ur smile. "Wait, what? Your smile is one of the most beautiful things about you!" he exclaimed, his voice reflecting genuine dismay. You looked down, feeling a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. "I know, but sometimes I feel like it's not as perfect as yours or others," u admitted softly. His expression softened as he reached out to gently lift ur chin, making u look into his eyes. "Hey, listen to me," he said earnestly. "Your smile is unique and genuine, and that's what makes it so special. It's not about perfection; it's about the happiness and warmth it brings to everyone around you, especially to me." He pulled u into a comforting hug, planting a kiss on ur forehead. "I hate seeing you doubt yourself like this. You're amazing in every way, and I wouldn't change a thing about you, especially not your beautiful smile." You felt tears of gratitude welling up in ur eyes as u hugged him back tightly. "Thank you for understanding and for always being there for me," u whispered. He smiled warmly, brushing away ur tears. "Always, my love. I'll remind you every day of how incredible you are and how much I adore your smile, no matter what." After a deep conversation, he suggested a cozy evening of self-care to lift ur spirits. You both snuggled up on the couch with fluffy blankets and soothing music playing in the background. He lovingly applied a gentle face mask on ur face, making u giggle at his playful antics.

Jungwon - body shape

As Jungwon noticed subtle signs of distress, he approached u with gentle concern. "Is everything okay, love?" he inquired, his voice soft and caring. You paused before finally sharing ur feelings. "I've been feeling insecure about my body shape lately," u confessed, ur tone tinged with vulnerability. He listened attentively, offering a reassuring smile and a comforting hand on ur shoulder. "You are absolutely perfect just the way you are," he reassured u, his words sincere and heartfelt. "Your beauty goes far beyond any external appearance. Your kindness, intelligence, and resilience make you truly extraordinary." He then suggested you spend some quiet time together, away from any distractions. You both went for a peaceful walk in nature, enjoying the serenity and beauty around you. Along the way, he continued to uplift u with words of encouragement and admiration. With each step, u felt a sense of comfort. You realized that ur Jungwon's love wasn't based on superficial standards but on a deep appreciation for who u were as a person. In his quiet and steady presence, u found the strength to embrace ur body with newfound confidence, knowing that u were cherished and valued just as u were. As u walked hand in hand, he pointed out the beauty of nature around u. He gently reminded u that just like the diverse flowers and trees you saw, each with its unique shape and form, ur body was a reflection of ur own unique beauty. "You are like a masterpiece created by nature," he said with a soft smile. "Every curve and line tells a story of strength, resilience, and beauty."

Niki - not feeling worthy of his love

Niki noticed a hint of sadness in ur eyes one evening as you both strolled through the park. Sensing ur unease, Niki wrapped his arm around ur shoulders and asked, "What's on your mind, my love?" You waver, fiddling with ur fingers before finally blurting out, "Sometimes I feel like I'm not enough for you." Niki's playful grin softened into a gentle smile as he pulled u closer. "Oh, sweetheart, you are more than enough for me. You're the melody to my laughter, the color in my world, and the love that fills my heart." You looked up at him, ur eyes searching for reassurance. "But what if I can't always make you happy or meet your expectations?" Niki chuckled softly, brushing a hair from ur face. "My love, happiness isn't about meeting expectations; it's about being together, sharing moments, and embracing each other's quirks. You make me happy just by being you." Tears of relief glistened in ur eyes as u leaned into Niki's comforting embrace. "I love you," u whispered. "I love you more," Niki replied, planting a tender kiss on ur forehead. Niki continued to shower u with affection and playful gestures, reminding u daily of ur worth and importance in his life. Your bond grew stronger as u navigated challenges together, embracing each other's strengths and vulnerabilities. You no longer doubted ur place in Niki's heart, finding solace in your love. In that moment, you knew that Niki's playful nature came with a deep understanding and unconditional love, making u feel cherished and truly enough.

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bloodreinasbathwater · 5 months ago

Text

The Lucky Bachelor

Part 2

Luke Hughes x Ex Girlfriend! Reader

a.n: I decided against making a prequel before finishing part 2. this has been a wip forEVER and now I can finally get back to other works. I'll be posting a poll? on my page to see what you guys want next. I hope you guys enjoy and please message me if you have any questions or want to be added to the tag list. <3

warnings: flirting, kissing, cursing, gaslighting (i love this word) mentions of alcohol

Summary: This is their second chance at love, it had been three years since that night in Michigan, three years since they officially split for the better. With some unwanted help Luke knows he will find a way to make her love him again.

word count - 4682

masterlist link

Y/N stirred awake, the gentle crash of waves filtering through the half-open window. For a moment, she basked in the peaceful sounds of the beach house, her mind blissfully blank. Then, like a tidal wave, the memories of last night came crashing back.

Luke's intense gaze. His husky voice. "I want you back. However I can have you." His calloused thumb stroked her lower lip as he inched closer, arousal darkening his eyes to a deep black. "Let me make up for lost time..."

She felt her heart stop as his musky, intoxicating scent enveloped her. Luke's face drifted closer, the heat of his body enveloping her. His lips were a mere hairsbreadth away, their breaths intermingling hotly. She could see the molten want simmering in his soulful brown eyes, setting her pulse racing.

Throwing caution to the wind, Y/N closed the scant distance between them and captured Luke's mouth in a searing kiss. A guttural groan rumbled up from his chest as their lips met in a fiery clash. His hand buried itself in her hair, angling her head for deeper exploration.

Luke nipped at her full lower lip, eliciting a soft whimper from Y/N. She opened for him eagerly, their tongues sliding together in a heated duel. Three years of pent-up longing, hurt, and unresolved desire poured into their passionate embrace.

Y/N melted against the solid wall of Luke's bare chest as his other arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against his muscular frame. She could feel the defined ridges of his abs, sculpted from years of intense training, pressing into her softness.

One of Luke's hands trailed blazing paths down her sides, coming to rest possessively below her waistband. Y/N arched shamelessly into his touch, wanting— needing — to be closer. She hooked one leg over his, straddling his powerful thighs as Luke's calloused palms mapped every inch of her sensitized skin.

Luke's mouth moved to her jaw, her neck, scattering scorching open-mouthed kisses along the way. Y/N threw her head back with a throaty moan as he found that sensitive spot below her ear that drove her wild. "Luke..." she gasped breathlessly, fingers raking through his thick chestnut locks.

The distant sound of footsteps caused them both to freeze, bodies taut as bowstrings. Luke was the first to recover, groaning regretfully as he twisted to hide Y/N from view just as Anastasia's grating voice pierced the heated air.

"Y/N? Are you in here?" The redhead's syrupy voice called out. "Oh, there you are, ugh I've been looking everywhere for you!"

And then—nothing. The moment was lost, leaving y/n stuttering and stumbling over her words and fled the room to follow Anastasia, leaving a visibly frustrated Luke behind.

Now, in the harsh light of day, Y/N's thoughts were a tangled mess.

What was I thinking? she berated herself, pulling the covers over her head. Or rather, why wasn't I thinking at all? It's Luke, for crying out loud. The same Luke who broke my heart a few months after senior year. The same Luke I swore I was over.

But even as she tried to convince herself it was a mistake, her body betrayed her. She could still feel the ghost of his touch on her lip, the warmth of his breath on her face. It sent a shiver down her spine.

Get it together, she thought, forcing herself to sit up. It was just the alcohol and the nostalgia talking. It didn't mean anything. But a traitorous voice in the back of her mind whispered, then why does it feel like everything?

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. How was she supposed to face Luke now? How was she supposed to face anyone? She could already imagine the knowing looks, the whispered conversations that would stop the moment she entered a room.

And Anastasia... Y/N's stomach churned at the thought of the other woman's reaction. She'd noticed Anastasia’s possessive behavior around Luke, the daggers she glared whenever Y/N so much as looked in his direction.

This vacation is going to be a disaster, Y/N thought miserably. But as the smell of coffee and bacon wafted up from the kitchen, she knew she couldn't hide forever. Taking a deep breath, she swung her legs out of bed.

Time to face the music, she thought, steeling herself for what promised to be the most awkward breakfast of her life.

…

Y/N took a deep breath before entering the kitchen, the cheerful chatter inside contrasting sharply with her inner turmoil. As she slid open the door, the conversation lulled for a moment before picking up again, a bit too enthusiastically as all eyes turned to her.

Ethan, who had been in the middle of a story, trailed off. "...and then I— Oh, hey Y/N."

Clarke was at the stove flipping pancakes. She flashed Y/N a bright smile, but there was a question in her eyes. "Morning, sleepyhead! I was starting to think we'd have to send a search party."

"Sorry," Y/N mumbled, making a beeline for the coffee pot. "Guess I needed the extra sleep."

She felt Luke's eyes on her but couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. Instead, she focused on pouring her coffee, acutely aware of Anastasia's fiery red hair in her peripheral vision. y/n decided to settle into an empty chair, coincidentally (or not) right across from Luke, Y/N could feel the others trying not to stare. She busied herself with buttering a piece of toast, trying to ignore the way her hand trembled slightly.

Damien clapped his hands together. "Alright, losers! Beach volleyball tournament today. We need to split into teams."

Ethan groaned. "Can we at least eat first? Some of us are still recovering from last night."

"Lightweight," Jared teased, his dark curls still damp from an early morning swim.

"So, Y/N," Anastasia's saccharine voice cut through the chatter, "you disappeared pretty early last night. Everything okay?"

Y/N's head snapped up, meeting Anastasia's knowing smirk. "Oh, uh, yeah. Just tired from the trip, I guess."

Luke cleared his throat. "Hey, An, could you pass the syrup?"

The use of the nickname wasn't lost on Y/N, and she felt a twinge of... something. Jealousy? Regret?

"Here you go, lukey," Anastasia purred, her hand lingering on his as she passed the bottle.

Emilia rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh my god, get a room you two."

Y/N nearly choked on her coffee, earning a concerned look from Taylor, whose kind eyes crinkled at the corners. "You alright there, Y/N?"

"Fine," she managed, reaching for a glass of water. "Just went down the wrong pipe."

Y/N found herself stealing glances at Luke, his brows were furrowed, jaw tense as he methodically cut his pancakes. When their eyes finally met, the intensity in his gaze made her breath catch, she quickly looked away, feeling a warmth creep up her neck.

Clarke's voice cut through her thoughts. "Y/N, you're pretty quiet this morning. Everything okay?"

Y/N blinked, realizing she'd been pushing her food around her plate. "Oh, uh, yeah. Just..." she paused, searching for words. "Didn't sleep great. Still adjusting to the new place, I guess."

Luke glanced up, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "The waves take some getting used to. They can be pretty loud at night." Y/N nodded, grateful for the save, even as she felt her cheeks warm slightly.

Clarke hummed in agreement, absently twirling a strand of hair around her finger as she leaned against the kitchen counter. "So, are you guys up for some volleyball later?"

Y/N hesitated, her fork hovering over her plate. "Oh, um..." She glanced at Luke, who was watching her with an unreadable expression. The silence stretched for a beat too long.

"Sure," Luke finally said, his voice casual. "Could be fun. Y/N? For old times' sake?"

The double meaning wasn't lost on her. Y/N straightened her shoulders, meeting his gaze head-on. "You're on. Hope you've improved your serve since high school."

A collective "Oooh" went around the table, the others picking up on the charged atmosphere between Y/N and Luke. They exchanged knowing glances, misreading the situation as a rekindling of their old high school competitive spirit.

Anastasia's eyes narrowed. "I call Luke's team," she said quickly.

"Great!" Clarke beamed, oblivious to the undercurrents, as she moved to sit on Damien's lap, chattering excitedly about their beach plans. "This is going to be so much fun!"

The group's attention suddenly shifted as a loud crash echoed through the kitchen. All heads whipped around to see Jared, who had jumped up from his seat a bit too enthusiastically, his chair clattering to the floor behind him. In his rush to right it, he bumped the table, sending ripples across its surface. Y/N's coffee mug teetered precariously before tipping over, its contents spilling directly onto Luke's lap.

"Oh shi—shoot!" Y/N exclaimed, grabbing a handful of napkins and instinctively reaching across to dab at Luke's jeans. It took her a split second to realize what she was doing. She froze, her hand awkwardly hovering over Luke's thigh, their faces inches apart.

"I've got it," Luke said, his voice husky. He took the napkins from her hand, their fingers brushing.

Damien, ever the jokester, couldn't resist. "Whoa there, Y/N! Trying to get Luke out of his pants already? At least wait until after breakfast!"

The table erupted in laughter as Y/N's face turned beet red. She sat back quickly, knocking over the syrup bottle in the process. It rolled across the table and right into Anastasia's plate, splattering her white top with maple syrup and bits of scrambled egg.

"Are you kidding me?" Anastasia shrieked, jumping up from her seat.

In the chaos that followed—Clarke rushing to get a wet cloth, Ethan barely containing his laughter, and Emilia trying to help clean up the mess—Y/N caught Luke's eye again. To her surprise, he was grinning, a mischievous glint in his eye that took her right back to their high school days.

What have I gotten myself into? she thought, both dreading and anticipating the day ahead.

…

After breakfast, Y/N slipped away from the bustling kitchen, her fingers trembling slightly as she grasped the cool metal handle of the sliding glass door. With a deep breath, she eased it open, wincing at the slight squeak of the tracks. The salt-tinged breeze hit her face as she stepped onto the weathered wooden deck, the boards creaking softly under her bare feet.

She glanced back, ensuring no one had followed, before carefully sliding the door shut behind her. The sounds of laughter and clinking dishes from the kitchen became muffled, replaced by the distant crash of waves and the cry of seagulls overhead.

Y/N's shoulders slumped as the facade she'd been maintaining all morning finally cracked. Her steps were heavy, almost stomping, as she crossed the sun-bleached planks to the railing. The peeling white paint was rough under her palms as she gripped it, leaning forward until her forehead rested against the weathered wood.

"Hey," Luke's voice was soft as he joined her at the railing. "You okay?" Y/N tensed, not having heard him approach. She turned her head slightly, catching a glimpse of him in her peripheral vision as he leaned against the railing beside her, leaving a careful distance between them.

Y/N nodded, not quite meeting his eyes. "Yeah, just needed some air."

They stood in silence for a moment, both staring out at the ocean. The salty breeze ruffled Luke's hair, and Y/N found herself fighting the urge to reach out and smooth it down, just like she used to.

Finally, Luke took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling noticeably. He turned towards her, his fingers drumming lightly on the railing. "About last night..."

"Luke, I—" Y/N started, pivoting to face him, but Luke held up a hand, gently cutting her off.

"No, let me finish," he said, his eyes searching her face. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture so familiar it made Y/N's heart ache. "I meant what I said. But I understand if you need time. We can't just pick up where we left off."

She turned to face Luke fully, her eyes tracing the familiar lines of his face, noting the subtle changes time had etched there. "It's not that simple," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "We're different people now. How do we know this isn't just nostalgia talking?"

"I don't think it is," he said carefully, each word measured. "At least, not for me. But I get why you might feel that way."

Y/N sighed, leaning back against the railing. The rough wood pressed into her palms as she gripped it, anchoring herself. "It's just... we have history, Luke. Good and bad." She paused, swallowing hard. "And being back here, with everyone... it's bringing up a lot of old feelings."

Luke nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. She could see the flecks of gold in his irises, illuminated by the morning sun. "I know," he said, his voice low and earnest. "And I'm not asking for any promises, Y/N." He took a small step closer, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him. "I just... I think there's still something here, between us. Something worth exploring. If you want to."

Y/N felt her heart racing. Part of her wanted to throw caution to the wind, to see where this could go. But another part, the part that remembered the pain of their breakup, held her back.

"I don't know what I want," she admitted. "This is all so much, so fast."

Luke reached out, hesitating for a moment before gently taking her hand. "Then let's just... see what happens. No pressure, no expectations. We've got this whole week ahead of us. Let's just enjoy it, and maybe... maybe we can figure things out along the way."

Y/N looked down at their joined hands, then back up at Luke. She saw the sincerity in his eyes, the hope, and felt something inside her soften.

"Okay," she said with a small smile. "Let's see what happens."

Luke's answering smile was warm, and for a moment, Y/N felt like maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.

Their moment was broken by Clarke's voice calling from inside. "Hey, lovebirds! We're heading to the beach. You coming or what?"

Y/N and Luke shared a laugh, the tension between them easing.

"Ready?" Luke asked, still holding her hand.

Y/N nodded, giving his hand a squeeze before letting go. "Yeah, I’m ready."

…

After their talk, the group made their way down to the beach, arms laden with coolers, umbrellas, and bags full of sunscreen and snacks. The sand was warm beneath their feet, and the air was thick with the scent of salt and sunblock.

"Alright, troops," Clarke announced, surveying the stretch of golden sand before them. "Let's set up base camp here."

"Yes, ma'am!" Damien saluted playfully, earning an eye roll and a smile from Clarke.

They fell into an easy rhythm, working together to create their perfect beach spot. Damien and Ethan wrestled with the large umbrellas, arguing good-naturedly about the best angle for maximum shade. "Dude, you're doing it wrong," Ethan grunted, struggling with a particularly stubborn umbrella. "It needs to face east."

Damien scoffed, "East? Are you kidding me? We want it facing south for optimal coverage."

"Guys, guys," Jared interjected, shaking his head as he and Taylor laid out a patchwork of colorful towels and beach blankets. "As long as it keeps us from turning into lobsters, does it really matter?"

Y/N found herself shoulder to shoulder with Luke, the heat from his sun-warmed skin palpable even without touching. They crouched over the coolers, the plastic handles cool and slightly damp under their fingers. The zipper rasped as Luke opened one, releasing a burst of frigid air that smelled faintly of sandwiches and fruit.

As they worked, arranging drinks and snacks, Luke cleared his throat. His voice was low, meant just for her ears amid the cacophony of crashing waves and distant laughter.

"So, uh... a law, huh?" He glanced at her, a half-smile playing on his lips. "Quite a change from the girl who used to drag me to surf at dawn."

Y/N felt a chuckle bubble up, surprising herself with how genuine it sounded. She could taste the salt in the air as she spoke. "Look who's talking, Mr. Hockey player. Whatever happened to being the next Kurt Cobain?"

Luke snorted, running a hand through his hair. A few grains of sand fell, catching the sunlight. "God, was I really that pretentious?"

"Only every other day," Y/N teased, the familiar banter feeling both comforting and dangerous.

Luke shook his head, grinning. His eyes crinkled at the corners, a detail Y/N had forgotten she loved. "Well, I'll have you know skating is way cooler than rock and roll these days."

Their easy banter was suddenly interrupted by the scent of tropical coconut, strong enough to overpower the salty air. Anastasia's voice cut through their conversation, saccharine sweet. "Luke, be a dear and get my back, would you?"

Y/N's eyes flicked up to see Anastasia standing there, all tanned skin and curves in a barely-there bikini. She was holding out a bottle of sunscreen, the lotion inside making a soft squelching sound as she shook it.

Luke hesitated, his eyes darting to Y/N for a split second. "Uh, sure, Ana. Just give me a sec to finish up here."

Y/N felt her jaw clench involuntarily. She busied herself with the cooler, the zipper's harsh rasp matching her mood as she yanked it open with more force than necessary. The cold air that rushed out did little to cool the heat rising in her cheeks.

She pointedly avoided looking up as Luke moved away, instead focusing on arranging bags of chips and fruit with meticulous care. But she couldn't block out the soft murmur of Luke's voice or Anastasia's exaggerated sighs as he applied the sunscreen.

…

The beach stretched out before them, a canvas of gold meeting the cerulean blue of the ocean. Further down, children were building sandcastles, their laughter carried on the salt-tinged breeze.

"Remember senior skip day?" Jared asked, passing around a bag of chips. "When we all came to a beach just like this?"

"Oh god," Y/N groaned, accepting the bag. "Didn't Taylor get stung by a jellyfish?"

Taylor shuddered at the memory. "Don't remind me. I still can't look at Jell-O the same way."

Anastasia's voice cut through her reverie. "Are we going to sit around all day, or are we going to play some volleyball?" There was a chorus of agreement as everyone started to get up, brushing sand from their legs and reapplying sunscreen.

"Here," Luke said, suddenly beside Y/N. He held out the sunscreen bottle. "Don't want you burning out there. Your law friends might think you've been slacking off."

Y/N rolled her eyes but took the bottle, their fingers brushing. "Thanks," she murmured, trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach.

"Alright, let's divide up," Clarke called out. "Luke, Anastasia, Jared, and Ethan on one side. Y/N, you're with me, Damien, and Taylor."

Y/N felt a surge of competitive energy as she took her position opposite Anastasia at the net. The redhead's eyes gleamed with challenge. "Ready to eat sand, Y/N?" Anastasia taunted, tossing her hair.

The game started with Damien's powerful serve. Luke bumped it high, Anastasia set, and Jared spiked—but Y/N was there, diving to save it. The ball soared back over the net, catching Anastasia off guard.

"Point for us!" Clarke cheered, high-fiving Y/N.

The game intensified, each point fiercely contested. Y/N and Anastasia faced off repeatedly at the net, their rivalry becoming increasingly obvious.

"Nice try," Anastasia smirked after blocking one of Y/N's spikes.

Y/N gritted her teeth. "Game's not over yet."

During a particularly intense volley, Luke dove for the ball, sending it high. Both Y/N and Anastasia went for it, colliding mid-air. They tumbled to the sand, the ball bouncing away.

"Foul!" Emilia called from her shaded perch. "I mean, is that a thing in volleyball?"

As Y/N stood, brushing sand from her legs, she caught Luke looking at her with concern. She gave him a small nod, silently assuring him she was okay.

The game came down to match point. Y/N's team was up by one, and the tension was palpable. As Jared served, Y/N found herself face-to-face with Anastasia at the net.

"This point's mine," Anastasia hissed.

"We'll see about that," Y/N shot back.

The ball sailed towards them. They both jumped, their hands meeting at the top of the net. For a split second, it was like electricity coursed between them.

The ball teetered on the edge of the net before finally dropping to Anastasia's side.

"We won!" Clarke screamed, tackling Y/N in a hug. The rest of her team piled on, laughing and cheering.

As they disentangled themselves, Y/N looked up to see Luke offering her a hand. She took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

"Good game," he said, his voice warm.

"Yeah," Y/N replied, slightly breathless. "Good game."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Anastasia watching them, her expression a mix of frustration and something else—something that told Y/N this competition was far from over.

…

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in deep oranges and purples. Sand-covered and sun-tired, the group trudged back to the beach house, their earlier energy mellowed into a comfortable buzz of contentment.

"I call first shower!" Jared announced, making a beeline for the stairs.

"Not if I beat you there!" Ethan retorted, shoving past him.

The others laughed, shaking their heads at the boys' antics as they dispersed to freshen up.

An hour later, everyone reconvened in the living room, hair damp and skin smelling of various soaps and lotions. They settled into the mismatched furniture – Clarke curled up in an armchair, Damien sprawled on the floor, others squeezing onto the worn leather couch.

"Alright, who's up for some drinking games?" Damien asked, producing a bottle of tequila with a flourish.

A chorus of cheers went up, and soon they were deep into a raucous game of "Never Have I Ever."

"If it involves any more physical activity, I'm out," Luke groaned good-naturedly from his spot on the couch.

There was a moment of silence, then a chorus of groans and laughs.

"Where did you even hide that?" Clarke asked, shaking her head but smiling.

As the night wore on, Y/N felt herself relaxing, the warmth of alcohol and friendship melting away her earlier anxieties. She found herself laughing more freely, even sharing embarrassing stories from college that had the group in stitches.

"Never have I ever..." Luke pondered, his eyes twinkling as they met Y/N's across the room. "Gotten a tattoo on spring break."

Y/N groaned, taking a sip of her drink along with Clarke and Jared. "Low blow, Hughes," she teased.

"Oh, come on," Ethan prodded. "You can't leave us hanging. What's the tattoo?"

Y/N felt her cheeks flush. "It's, uh... a small wave. On my hip."

Luke's eyebrows shot up, a mix of surprise and something else flickering across his face.

Before anyone could comment further, Anastasia stood abruptly, stumbling slightly. "Oops!" she giggled, her drink sloshing over the rim of her glass and right onto Y/N's white top.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Anastasia's voice dripped with false sincerity.

Y/N jumped up, the cold liquid seeping through her shirt. "It's... it's fine," she said, trying to keep her composure.

Luke was on his feet in an instant. "Come on, Y/N. I've got a clean shirt you can borrow."

Before she could protest, he was guiding her out of the room and up the stairs to his bedroom.

Once inside, Luke rummaged through his suitcase, pulling out a soft, worn t-shirt. "Here," he said, handing it to her. "It'll be big, but it's dry."

"Thanks," Y/N murmured, suddenly very aware of their proximity in the small room.

Y/N turned away, the floorboards creaking softly under her feet. She could feel the weight of Luke's gaze on her back, raising goosebumps along her skin. With slightly trembling fingers, she grasped the hem of her damp shirt, peeling it off.

As she pulled Luke's shirt over her head, she was enveloped in his scent. It was a heady mixture – something uniquely Luke that brought a flood of memories rushing back. The soft cotton settled against her skin, still warm from Luke's body. Y/N took a steadying breath before turning around.

She nearly gasped. Luke was much closer than she'd anticipated. Those eyes were dark now, intense, filled with an emotion that made her pulse quicken.

"Y/N," he breathed, her name a whisper on his lips. His hand came up slowly, telegraphing his movement as if giving her a chance to pull away. But she didn't. Instead, she found herself leaning into his touch as his palm cupped her cheek, his calloused thumb brushing gently across her cheekbone.

Time seemed to slow. Y/N was acutely aware of every sensation – the warmth of Luke's hand, the soft brush of his breath against her lips, the thundering of her own heart. Luke began to lean in, his eyes flicking down to her mouth.

"Y/N," he breathed, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.

She leaned into his touch, her heart racing. They were so close now, she could feel his breath on her lips. Instead, Y/N stepped back, her cheeks flushed. "We should... we should get back," she stammered.

Luke nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, you're right."

They rejoined the group, slipping back into the easy banter and games. But Y/N couldn't shake the lingering tension, the what-ifs hanging in the air between her and Luke. As the night wore on, Y/N stood to refill her drink. In the kitchen, she found herself alone with Anastasia.

"Having fun?" Anastasia's voice was sharp, all pretense of friendliness gone.

Y/N turned slowly. "Look, Anastasia, if this is about the game earlier—"

"This isn't about some stupid game," Anastasia snapped. "This is about you thinking you can waltz back into Luke's life like the past four years of seperation never happened."

Y/N felt her defenses rise. "You don't know anything about Luke and me."

Anastasia laughed coldly. "Oh, please. I know more than you think. I know why you two really broke up."

Y/N froze. "What are you talking about?"

"Luke told me everything," Anastasia said, her voice low and venomous. "About how uptight and boring you were in high school. How he felt suffocated. He wanted someone who could actually have fun, who wasn't afraid to live a little."

The words hit Y/N like a physical blow. "You're lying," she whispered, but doubt crept into her voice.

Anastasia smirked. "Am I? Why do you think he came to me after you two split? Face it, Y/N. You were never enough for him then, and you're certainly not enough for him now."

Before Y/N could respond, they heard footsteps approaching. Anastasia's demeanor changed instantly, a fake smile plastered on her face as Clarke entered the kitchen.

"Everything okay in here?" Clarke asked, looking between them.

"Just great," Anastasia chirped, brushing past Y/N to rejoin the party.

Y/N stood frozen, Clarke's concerned questions fading into background noise as Anastasia's words echoed in her mind. The joy of the evening evaporated, replaced by a gnawing doubt that threatened to consume her.

As Anastasia sauntered out of the kitchen, Y/N felt her emotions threatening to overflow. She grabbed Clarke's arm, pulling her friend closer.

"Clarke, I need to talk to you," Y/N said, her voice shaky.

Concern immediately clouded Clarke's features. "Of course, honey. What's wrong?"

Y/N took a deep breath, then the words came tumbling out in a rush. "It's Anastasia. She just... she said all this shit about Luke and me, about why we broke up. She said I was boring and uptight in high school, that Luke felt suffocated by me. That he went to her after we split because I wasn't enough for him."

Clarke's eyes widened, then narrowed. "Oh, that little—" She cut herself off, taking a calming breath. "Y/N, listen to me. Anastasia is full of crap, okay? She's just trying to get under your skin."

"But what if she's right?" Y/N whispered, voicing her deepest fear. "What if I really wasn't enough for Luke back then?"

Clarke took Y/N by the shoulders, looking her straight in the eye. "Y/N, I was there, remember? I saw you and Luke together in high school. What you two had... it was real. It was pure."

Y/N felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. "Really?"

"Really," Clarke affirmed, her voice soft but firm. "The way Luke looked at you... girl, it was like you hung the moon and stars. You brought out the best in each other. You challenged each other, supported each other. It was actually kind of sickeningly sweet," she added with a gentle smile.

A watery laugh escaped Y/N's lips. "We were pretty nauseating, weren't we?"

"The worst," Clarke agreed, grinning. Then her expression softened again. "But Y/N, it was also beautiful. You two were so genuine together. Whatever happened between you... it wasn't because you weren't enough. You hear me?"

Y/N nodded, feeling the knot in her chest start to loosen. "Thanks, Clarke. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Crash and burn, obviously," Clarke teased, pulling Y/N into a tight hug. "Now listen, whatever game Anastasia is playing, don't let her win. You're amazing, Y/N. You always have been. And if Luke can't see that, then he's an idiot. But between you and me," she added in a conspiratorial whisper, "I think he sees it clear as day."

Y/N squeezed her friend tightly, feeling grounded and reassured. As they pulled apart, Clarke wiped a stray tear from Y/N's cheek.

"You good?" Clarke asked.

Y/N took a deep breath and nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, I'm good. Thanks, Clarke."

"Anytime, babe. Now, let's get back out there and show Anastasia that she can't ruin our fun, okay?"

With a newfound sense of confidence, Y/N followed Clarke back to the living room. As she settled back into her spot, her eyes met Luke's across the room. He smiled at her, warm and genuine, and Y/N felt her heart skip a beat.

The night continued, filled with laughter and friendship, and Y/N allowed herself to relax and enjoy it, pushing thoughts of Anastasia and old heartbreaks to the back of her mind. For now, she was here with her friends, making new memories, and that was enough.

The next morning, the group dragged themselves out of bed before dawn, yawning and clutching travel mugs of coffee. They piled into two rental cars, following their local guide, Miguel, to the cliff diving spot.

As they wound their way up the coastal road, the scenery took Y/N's breath away. Lush greenery gave way to craggy cliffs, and below, the ocean stretched out in a stunning palette of turquoise and deep blue.

"It's beautiful," Y/N murmured, her face pressed against the car window.

"Just wait till you see it from the top," Luke replied from the driver's seat, shooting her a grin that made her heart flutter.

When they arrived, Miguel led them on a short hike to the cliff's edge. The group fell into easy chatter as they walked, discussing their plans for the rest of the vacation and sharing stories from the night before.

"Alright, folks," Miguel announced as they reached the jumping point. "We're here. Now, remember the safety instructions. Jump feet first, arms at your sides. The water's deep, but stay alert."

Y/N peered over the edge, her stomach doing a somersault at the height. The crystal-clear water below looked inviting, but suddenly, the idea of jumping seemed terrifying.

"Okay, who's first?" Damien asked, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

To Y/N's surprise, Clarke and Damien volunteered to go first. They approached the edge hand in hand, counted to three, and leaped with twin shouts of exhilaration.

One by one, the pairs jumped. Jared and Taylor went next, followed by Ethan and Emilia. Even Anastasia found the courage to jump, paired with Miguel.

Finally, only Y/N and Luke remained. Y/N felt her palms start to sweat.

"Hey," Luke said softly, taking her hand. "We've got this. Just like old times, remember?"

Y/N nodded, memories of their teenage adventures flooding back. "Just like old times," she echoed.

They walked to the edge together, hands clasped tightly. Y/N's heart raced, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through her veins.

"Ready?" Luke asked, his eyes locked on hers.

"Ready," Y/N confirmed, surprised to find she meant it.

"On three. One... two... three!"

They jumped.

For a moment, Y/N felt suspended in mid-air, the wind rushing past her. Then they were falling, the water racing up to meet them. She let out a scream that was half terror, half pure joy.

They hit the water with a tremendous splash, the cool ocean enveloping them. As they resurfaced, Y/N found herself laughing, the adrenaline making her feel more alive than she had in years.

"That was amazing!" she exclaimed, turning to Luke.

He was right there, closer than she expected, his eyes bright with excitement and something else. Without thinking, Y/N threw her arms around his shoulders, caught up in the moment.

Luke's arms encircled her waist, pulling her close. The world seemed to slow down, the gentle waves lapping around them as they gazed at each other. Y/N felt herself leaning in, her eyes fluttering closed...

"Hey, lovebirds! Get a room!" Damien's voice boomed from the cliff above, shattering the moment.

Y/N and Luke jerked apart, both laughing somewhat sheepishly. But as they began to swim towards the shore, Luke reached for her hand underwater, giving it a gentle squeeze.

They climbed out of the water together, their fingers intertwined. As they joined the rest of the group, Y/N couldn't help but feel that something had shifted between them. The thrill of the jump, the almost-kiss in the water – it all felt like the beginning of something new. Or perhaps, she thought with a smile, the continuation of something that had never truly ended.

…

The moon hung low over the ocean, casting a silver path across the gentle waves. Y/N stood at the water's edge, toes sinking into the cool sand, lost in thought. She heard footsteps approaching and knew without turning that it was Luke.

"Hey," he said softly, coming to stand beside her. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Y/N took a deep breath, finally turning to face him. "Luke, I... I'm scared."

His brow furrowed with concern. "Of what?"

"Of this. Us. Of hoping for something and then losing it all over again," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Luke stepped closer, gently taking her hands in his. "Y/N, look at me."

She raised her eyes to meet his, finding them full of warmth and sincerity.

"I know we've both changed," he began, his thumb tracing circles on her palm. "I still have feelings for you. Strong feelings. Being here, spending time with you again... it's made me realize that I never really got over you."

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. "How can you be so sure?"

Luke smiled softly. "Because every day I've spent with you here has felt more right than anything has in years. Because when I look at you, I don't just see the girl I fell in love with in high school. I see the amazing woman you've become, and I'm falling all over again."

Tears pricked at Y/N's eyes. "Luke..."

"I'm not asking for everything all at once," he continued, reaching up to cup her cheek. "We can take it slow, figure things out together. But I know that I want you in my life, Y/N. In whatever way you'll have me."

"I can't go through losing you again,” Y/N whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

"Then let me love you," Luke said, his voice fervent. "Let me cherish you. Y/N, I'll kiss the ground you walk on if you ask me to. I'll do anything to have you back in my life."

He cupped her cheek gently, his thumb brushing away a tear she hadn't realized had fallen. "I know I hurt you before. And I know it's asking a lot to trust me again. But I promise you, if you give me another chance, I'll spend every day making sure you know how much you mean to me."

Y/N leaned into his touch, her fears melting away under the warmth of his gaze. "I want you too," she whispered. "I think I always have."

Luke's smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way she loved. Slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wanted, he leaned in.

This time, there were no interruptions. Their lips met in a kiss that was soft and sweet at first, then deepened with years of pent-up longing. Y/N wrapped her arms around Luke's neck as he pulled her closer, one hand tangling in her hair while the other rested at the small of her back.

When they finally parted, both slightly breathless, Luke rested his forehead against hers. "I love you, Y/N," he murmured. "I never stopped."

Y/N felt a smile bloom across her face, joy bubbling up inside her. "I love you too, Luke."

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writingoddess1125 · 11 months ago

Note

Finished reading your Jessica Rabbit series and,

Knowing buggy, he is absolutely the type of man to wander ass backwards into getting a wife 10x hotter than him.

FALLING UPWARD!

As I call it! He courts a way too attractive of wife simply because he has failed right into her loving arms!

However I'll give credit were credit is due- He seems like quite the charmer ;3

Too Good

Buggy wrapped his arms around his gorgeous wife in their shared bed, a contented goofy smile playing on his lips as he holds you close. "You know," he chuckled, "I still can't believe I snagged someone as stunning as you. I mean, seriously! how did I get so lucky?"

You nestled closer, tracing circles on his blue fuzz chest "Oh please, you're the handsome one here. I'm the lucky one."

He shook his head dramtically, a playful glint in his eyes. "Hell No, you're way out of my league Doll. I must've done something right in a past life to end up with you."

You laughed, "Well, whatever it was, I'm grateful for it every day. Besides I still hold my stance your too handsome for me"

Buggy is silent for a few moments, before kissing the top of your head. Pausing as he takes in your scent and the warmth of your body.

"You're gorgeous in every way (Y/N)" he began "from the way your eyes light up when you're excited about something new to the way your laughter fills the room, making everything brighter."

His fingers tracing down your side as he wrapped himself tighter around you "And let's not forget the irresistible way your nose crinkles when you smile. It's like sunshine breaking through the clouds." You looking up at him, your heart fluttering at his gentle words.

"Buggy-" You breathlessly whisper.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, "Your kindness, your intelligence, and the way you carry yourself with such grace—each one of these things adds to your beauty. You're a masterpiece, my love, inside and out. One that is too good for me, but I'm forever greatful to have"

Your eyes water at his words, Leaning up to kiss him gently on the lips pouring every ounce of love you had into it as he happily returned the gesture.

"I love you Buggy Boo~" You whisper softly against his lips, him smiling against your own.

"I love you too Doll~"

#x reader #one piece #one peice x reader #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #Jessica Rabbit Effect #masterlist

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elaemae · 9 months ago

Text

The premium version of human is here to wreck house, mfs.

[Twst x Obey Me!AFAB!reader]

CHP. 4

PREVIOUS CHP.: PROLOGUE 3

Thank you guys for the likes, reblogs and comments.

Also, to the people who became my followers, I'll be forever grateful for that😊

CW: When MC gets mistaken as a guy, they get referred to as he/him, but the problem is that there's too many males around the MC.

So, I've decided to color the pronouns blue when it's MC that's being addressed. Just to avoid confusion.

CLARIFICATION: The headmaster, and MC knows that Yuu is from another world, so MC decided to play along and pretend that they're from the same world as Yuu. (The human world where MC came from is mostly similar to the human world that Yuu describes. i.e. landmarks, cultural, knowledge, current trends, anime and manga are all mostly the same.)

REMEMBER: Read this before the chapter.

Experience changes people.

If you see MC doing something you think you won't do and you decide to complain about it, remember this:

• You act the way you do because of the things that you've gone through in your life.

• MC is the same.

• They experienced a lot of traumatic events and almost lost their lives a fuck-ton of times.

• Because of that, they've changed. They've diverged from being you into the MC that they are now.

• The life you're living now shall be treated as the MC's canonical past.

• Also, because The Obey Me!cast feels bad from all the times you suffered and almost died because of them, they tend to overcompensate you.

• You get dressed in the finest of fabrics, most luxurious jewels, as well as housed and fed with the best things that the three realms have to offer.

• You don't take them for granted, but years of living with that lifestyle had raised your standards to new heights and changed the way that you act towards certain things.

• You're free to make up your own head canons if you don't like mine, also y'all can give me feedback if you want so I can improve my work.

• This story will be set a few years after the canon of the Obey Me games.

• • • • •

Who would've thought that it would be a bad idea to try to trick someone who literally reeks of luxury to live in an old, bout-to-fall-apart dormitory?

Well, certainly not Crowley.

That fact became known when 'The shady looking dorm leader™' and also, the tablet decided to tag along with you, Yuu and Crowley, but then had to help Yuu in holding you back so that you wouldn't beat the ever living crap out of the headmaster the moment he dared to bring y'all in front of this rustic establishment and say "It had charm". (Too many You's)

Oh really? really?? Oh you'll see real charm when I beat you straight into the afterlife you greasy son of a bitc–

*Ehem*

It did not end well.

So instead of that, the headmaster had to temporarily put you and your fellow stranded-in-dis-school-human into the infirmary as your temporary abode and promised to fix the shoddy dorm so that it can safely house people in it. (Grim will appear in the future, dw)

*Que Azul tryna make you stay in Octavinelle and you vehemently declining that offer.*

Also, you're starting to get creeped-out by the floating tablet that keeps following you around and won't stop with taking pictures. there's also the small maniacal giggles coming out of the device.

• • • • • •

So there you two are, two people that've been kidnapped by this school's fuckin carriage are now bonding in the infirmary and distracting each other by venting about problems back home. (You two are too wary to be able to sleep properly.)

Like, yes Yuu, I'm in a polyamorous with more than a dozen problematic individuals.

Yes, it works out. somehow

Damn, three assignments due tomorrow all from the same subject? Have you ever tried cheating off of your classmates?

Oh— wait what?! a classmate from biology was caught fucking with a professor in a classroom!? Seriously??

No, I unfortunately no longer have a grasp on the concept of private space and poverty.

Yes, maintaining a relationship with a lot of people at the same time can be hard.

A lot of them are rich.

Wait, a seatmate of yours really gave two free expensive sketch pads just because you asked?? Where can I find that person??

Yes they all act like my sugar daddies and my man-children in one way or another.

No, don't you dare pimp yourself out, okay? There may be a lot of people in my life but the important thing is that we all love each other.

We support, comfort, protect, and guide each other to the best we can.

No— that didn't happen in a day, I had to bend over backwards and almost die a shit-ton of times before I managed to wiggle myself firmly into the hearts of those fuckers.

...Q- Questions about our sex life will be automatically ignored.

Just.. be nice to others, even if it's seemingly stupid.

Unless they are absolute scum then just maintain distance.

You just gotta eyeball it to figure out when to stop being nice to someone.

Never and I mean NEVER treat anyone badly unless they did something unforgivable to you.

Don't call me kind. It's easier to have a grasp on other people if you're nice.

Pft— You once saw a book called "How to be a sugar baby 101" in the school library?! And you saw your principal reading it?!

Sure-sure, I'll help you with your math homework— wait a second.. Seriously?? We've been kidnapped, I ain't allowing you to do math. Where the hell did you even hide that thick-as-fuck test sheet anyways?? Up your ass?!

• • • •

You sigh for the third time this hour, looking at Yuu who's making a "Mom.. I threw up in the carpet... I'm sowwy🥺" expression as they stand beside your bed.

"What happened?"

Yuu winced, feeling embarrassed as they hear you talk to them like a disappointed parent, they had failed to appeal to Crowley about becoming a temporary student of this school and now had to be a janitor/errand kid.

"The headmaster said that I'll be the handy-man of the campus while he searches for a way to get us home..."

You feel a vein in your head throb and your eye start to twitch by of the sheer audacity being shown in front of your face.

You are now feeling the immense urge to hex that bird-bitch.

Satan sat straight in his seat, speaking out to the others in the meeting table.

"I can feel irritation and the urge to curse someone again." He said.

It would've been funny if this was another situation.

"That's definitely from MC, isn't it? You mentioned being half-asleep and feeling MC get agitated through your pact mark, right?" Diavolo asked.

"Yes, at least our pacts are still intact..." Satan nodded.

"Great, we can use this to monitor MC even if they're far away." Lucifer stated.

Countless search-parties and interrogations have already been conducted, but they're still clueless on where you can be or who could've taken you.

Even Barbatos couldn't see what had happened.

They're starting to get agitated, MC..

• • • • •

Jade watched as Azul frantically drafts and redrafts a new plan of his.

It seems that something caught the eye of their housewarden in the ceremony today.

"What could be so eye-catching that you're in such a hurry to obtain it, Azul?" Jade couldn't contain his curiosity and asked.

"It's a new student, Jade." Azul started.

"He possesses such a large amount of magical artifacts in his hands, It's unbelievable! They were all high quality too!"

Jade blinks.

"Don't you have enough magical artifacts around?"

Jade is confusion.

"You don't know it because you weren't there." Azul narrowed his eyes at Jade.

"I first thought those jewelry of his were similar to the ones that you can buy with enough money in annual auctions, but then I realized that it's very likely that those jewelry are customized."

"...How so?"

"So I decided to try and take a closer look, but when I actually got closer and almost touched one of them, I felt a strong thrum of magic that I haven't felt before!"

Oh?

Now that got Jade's attention.

Azul has been exposed to a lot of strong, powerful people and magical artifacts over the years that he and his twin were following this dormleader of theirs and yet there was actually an artifact so strong that he can feel strong waves of magic by just almost touching it?

How curious..... If the magic of the artifact was so strong, why didn't Azul sense it up until he literally almost held it in his hands?

Seems like this year won't be boring, after all..

• • • • •

BONUS: Someone has a crush.

"Brother, Your package has arrived— What are you... Are you making fan art of Mr. [L/n]...?"

Idia screams like a dumb girl in a horror movie as he tries to block the screen with his body.

"O-ORTHO?! WH-WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT KNOCKING FIRST??!"

"And... what's with the pose?"

Ortho tilts head innocently, confused on why his brother is drawing a new student in a pose that can often be seen on videos that are called "Thirst traps". he's still confused about why they're called that way.

Idia: "O- ORTHO THIS ISN'T ANYTHING BAD I SWEARAHGJSI—"

*Starts to fuckin steam*

"brOTHER YOU'RE BURNING THE CHAIR!"

"AH CRAP!"

← Pr.3 | Chapter List | Pr. 5 →

Don't forget to like, comment and reblog guys, It's a big help :3

What do y'all think of the chapter? pls respond, I need feedback🥺

I woke up today and decided to kick canon's ass.

Elae: Thanks for reading this far.☺️

See y'all next time~

Next chapter: Prologue 5

@f0urleafedcl0ver

@a-traveling-void-human

@speckle-meow-meow

@leviathans-tail-scales

@citrus-cinnamon

@prefesro

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer x reader #crossover #obey me asmo x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me belphagor x reader #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me simeon x reader #obey me thirteen x reader #obey me solomon x reader #obey me mephisto x mc #twst x reader #twst x obey me #twisted wonderland x reader

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heavenlylie · 1 year ago

Text

how you lost the girl

pairing: jenna ortega x fem!reader

summary: a rainy night makes you think back to your relationship with jenna, but a unexpected appearance interrupts your thoughts.

warnings: angst<3

word count: 3k

a/n: flashbacks are in italics!! heavily based on "how you get the girl" by taylor mother but ofc i had to make it angst..

The rain was relentless, pounding against the windowpane as if mirroring the turmoil inside your heart. Six months had passed since that fateful day when your relationship with Jenna crumbled like a fragile porcelain doll.

The apartment felt empty, its corners echoing with the memories of laughter, whispers, and stolen kisses that had once filled the space with warmth and love.

You chuckled, shaking your head at Jenna's silly behavior. She had just thrown flour all over you while you were trying to bake a batch of cookies using a recipe from your phone. "You are so weird," you said.

As the flour settled on your face, you couldn't help but laugh. She had always been a bit of a troublemaker, but you couldn't deny that her antics always made you smile.

"Alright, alright," you said, trying to hold back your laughter. "I think that's enough flour for one day."

Jenna giggled and brushed some of the excess flour off of her apron. Oh, come on, where's your sense of adventure?"

You rolled your eyes playfully. "I have plenty of adventure in my life, thank you very much."

Jenna smirked. "Oh really? Do tell." You smiled and leaned in closer to her.

"Well, for starters, there's this." And with that, you closed the distance between you and kissed her deeply.

The flour on your face was forgotten as you lost yourselves in the moment. Jenna's lips were soft against yours, and it felt like you could kiss her forever.

Eventually, you broke apart, both of you breathless and grinning from ear to ear. You brushed some of the flour off of Jenna's cheek, and she laughed, looking up at you with those beautiful brown eyes.

"I guess I'll have to clean this mess up," you said, gesturing to the kitchen, which was now covered in a thin layer of white powder.

Jenna smiled mischievously. "Oh let's just leave it for now," she said, stepping closer to me again and placing her hand on your waist.

"Why don't we go do something else instead?" She suggested, looking up at you seductively through her lashes.

You chuckled softly and pulled her closer until your bodies were pressed together. "That sounds like an excellent idea," You agreed. And then you were off into the night, leaving the kitchen far behind you in a flurry of kisses and laughter.

You stood by the window, gazing out at the rain-soaked streets, your thoughts consumed by memories of her. You had tried so hard to move on and rebuild your life without Jenna, but the pain of her absence lingered like a ghost haunting your every step.

The rain made you wonder how everything had gone so wrong. Jenna was the love of your life, or so you thought. But things had spiraled out of control, and now here you were, alone and heartbroken.

"Maybe we could watch a movie tonight," Jenna suggested, her eyes on the road as she drove home after a long day of traveling.

You chuckled and rolled your eyes at her. "Do you seriously have energy to watch a movie after a whole day of work plus flying home from New York?"

Jenna shrugged, a playful grin spreading across her face. "I'll have plenty of energy if the movie is interesting enough."

You chuckled again, admiring Jenna's mischievous spirit. Even after a long day, she was always up for a little excitement. As you pulled up to your house, you couldn't help but feel grateful for having her by your side.

Once inside, Jenna immediately made her way to the couch, scrolling through Netflix with a determined look on her face. You grabbed a couple of sodas from the fridge and settled in beside her, laying your head on her shoulders.

"What do you feel like watching?" you asked, taking a sip of your drink.

"Hmm, how about something with a little action and a lot of sex?" Jenna winked, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

You laughed, shaking your head in amusement. "You never change, do you?"

Jenna leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "Why should I?" She said with a wide grin.

You turned away from the window, your heart heavy with a mixture of anger and longing. How can someone just disappear from your life without a proper explanation?

The hurt ran deep, leaving scars that no amount of time seemed capable of healing. As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door. Your heart raced in your chest as you cautiously approached the entrance. Who would be at your door at 2 a.m. on a Tuesday?

A sudden knock at the door jolted you out of your thoughts. You hesitated for a moment before making your way to the door. You opened it to find Jenna standing in front of you, drenched to the bone by the rain, her eyes meeting yours for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

Your heart skipped a beat as you gazed into her eyes, trying to gauge her emotions. She looked up at you, and for a moment, neither of you said a word, the silence between you heavy with the weight of unresolved emotions.

"Are you insane?" Your voice wavered and your eyebrows furrowed, a mix of anger and vulnerability evident in your tone. "Showing up here like this after all this time?"

Jenna swallowed hard, her own emotions starting to overwhelm her. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have left the way I did. I miss you."

You felt a wave of emotions wash over you―anger, hurt, and a deep, gnawing desire for her. You wanted her to explain why she had left and make things right. But at the same time, you couldn't ignore the intense longing you had for her, the way your heart leapt at the sight of her.

You wanted to pull her into your arms, to feel her warmth and sweet smell again, but you held yourself back. You needed to know the truth before even considering letting her in again.

"Why are you here?" You asked, your voice was cold and distant. As much as you wanted her, she didn’t deserve to see you cry. "You just disappeared without a word."

Jenna took a deep breath, her eyes filling with tears. "I was scared," she said, her voice shaking. "I didn't know how to deal with everything that was happening between us. I needed time to figure things out."

You felt a pang of sadness and hurt at her admission. How could she have just left without telling you? "You could have talked to me, Jenna," you said, a hint of anger creeping into your voice. "We could have worked through things together."

"I know," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I regret it every day. But I'm here now, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right between us."

You shook your head, looking at her with an evident hurt in your face. "And it took you six months to come back? I mean, you left without giving me an explanation or looking back. Can you even begin to understand how much that hurt?" You said with tears in your eyes, holding them back for as long as you could.

Your gaze hardened, but her eyes held a glimmer of something that resembled hope. "A long six months, and you were too afraid to tell me what you wanted. Is that it?"

Jenna looked down, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her wet shirt. "I was afraid," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Afraid of losing you, of losing everything we had built together."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "And you think just showing up here in the middle of the night is going to make everything better?" You asked, your tone laced with a hint of bitterness.

Jenna looked up at you, her eyes filled with tears. "No," she said. "I know it won't. But I had to try. I had to see you, to tell you how much I love you, and to ask for your forgiveness."

You felt a knot form in your stomach at her words. Despite everything that had happened, you still loved her, and the thought of being without her had been unbearable. But at the same time, you couldn't just forget all the pain she had caused and let her back in your life.

The rain continued to pour outside, the drops tapping against the windowpane like a somber melody. You stood there, facing Jenna, contemplating your next move. It was tough to ignore the pain she had caused you, but at the same time, the love you had for her wasn’t going anywhere, and you knew that.

You decide to speak up, knowing staring at her for too long would only hurt even more. "And what do you want, Jenna? You left because you were scared, now what?"

Jenna looked up at you with hopeful eyes, willing you to understand. "I want us to be together again. I want to make it work, to do whatever it takes to make things right between us."

You sighed, feeling torn between your desire to have her back in your life and the hurt she had caused you. "It's not that simple, Jenna," you said, your voice softening a bit. "You can't just waltz back into my life and expect everything to be okay. You hurt me beyond what I could ever even imagined. You are a coward, you should’ve fought for us, for me!" You said in a louder tone, letting your emotions take over, and the tears you were fighting back streamed down your face.

Jenna's eyes filled with tears as she listened to you, her own emotions starting to bubble up to the surface. "I know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was a coward. I should have fought for us, for you. But I was scared, and I didn't know what to do, can't you understand that?"

"No! Because I don't want to be your dirty little secret, I deserve more than that! I deserve a girlfriend who’ll take me to her family’s Christmas dinner, a girlfriend who’s not afraid of what other people in the media will say about her relationship!" You said now crying almost uncontrollably. You wanted to hate her, you deserve better. But she was Jenna—your Jenna.

Jenna shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a mixture of shame and love in her eyes. "I know, I'm sorry," she said. "I want to make it up to you, to be the girlfriend you deserve. Please forgive me."

You sighed. You wanted so much to believe her, but a part of you still felt that she was just trying to make things better for herself. "I don't know," you said, shaking your head.

"I'll do anything you want, I just want to win you back!" Jenna pleaded, tears and drops of rain streaming down her face.

You looked at her, knowing deep down she meant every word, but you still felt the hurt. It was an impossible situation, and you didn't know what to say.

Everything seemed to fall silent for an endless moment once again, and the weight of the situation settled in. The silence was almost deafening, and you felt tears starting to form in your eyes again at the thought of never seeing her again.

You took a deep breath, trying to control your emotions. You knew that Jenna had hurt you deeply, but at the same time, you couldn't deny the love you still had for her. "I need time, Jenna," you said, your voice softening. "Time to think about everything that's happened, and time to decide if I can forgive you."

Jenna's eyes filled with tears once again, but this time they were tears of hope rather than desperation. "I understand," she said, her voice shaking. "I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I deserve your forgiveness."

You nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope yourself. Maybe things could work out between you and Jenna, but it wouldn't be easy. "And I need space, Jenna," you said softly. "I need time to process everything and figure out what I want."

Jenna nodded, her eyes still filled with tears. "It's okay, I get it," she said again. "I'll give you all the space you need. But please don't shut me out completely."

You gave her a small smile, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of not seeing her again. "I won't shut you out completely, Jenna," you said. "But I need to take things one day at a time."

Jenna nodded again, wiping away her tears.

You watched as she turned to leave, her footsteps echoing softly on the hardwood floor. As she reached the door, she turned back to look at you with a sad smile on her face. "I love you," she said softly, before slipping out into the rain and disappearing into the night.

You stood there for a moment, staring after her, unsure of what to do next. The rain continued to pour outside, the drops tapping against the windowpane like a lullaby.

You took a deep breath and let the gravity of the moment wash over you. Jenna had hurt you deeply, but at the same time, you couldn't deny the love you still had for her.

You knew that you needed to take things one day at a time and figure out what you really wanted. Only time will tell if you were willing to take the risk and try to make things work with Jenna again.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna x reader

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