#flaco hernandez x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

a-libra-writes · 4 years ago

Text

The Gang Reacts to You Dressing Fancy for a Job

“Is it okay to ask for the RDR2 gang (or just Javier if it’s too much!) seeing their crush all prettied and dressed up for a job (like the riverboat or Bronte’s garden party)? Would they work up the courage to ask them out? your writing sustains me”

YAAALLLLL THIS LONG AS FUCK BC THIS! IS! MY! RASPBERRY! JAM!

In this imagine, you’ll be impressing: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch van Der Linde, Hosea Matthews, Sadie Adler, Micah Bell, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Javier Escuella, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy, Tilly Jackson, Mary-Beth Gaskill, Karen Jones, Flaco Hernandez

ARTHUR MORGAN

Oh no. When you were volunteered for the job, he had a feeling you’d look charming in one of those big hooped gowns, but … this is like his heart getting hit by a train. The feelings are a little overwhelming, so while the girls add their finishing touches, Arthur tries to stand to the side and not stare. He wants to compliment you, because you look absolutely stunning, but words are completely failing him. Arthur manages to get a compliment out, but you’re totally occupied with how much you love or hate this get-up. Arthur doesn’t even care about what he was forced to wear; he could be in a paper sack and he wouldn’t notice. During the party, he’s distracted by how you seem to float around the room, easily joking with the guests as though you were one of them. Hosea has to knock sense into Arthur more than once, but how can he pay attention when there’s a literal angel in front of him?

When the gunfight breaks out, Arthur is at your side right away, pulling you into his protective embrace and trying to steer you out of the house. It doesn’t matter if you’re a good shot or not, that dress and corset are cumbersome as hell and he’s gonna stubbornly send you home. Arthur wants to be the one taking you back, but he has to stay and fight. He hands you off to Sean, warning him to be careful and get you back to camp in one piece. His tone is actually pretty scary when he says this. Arthur is beyond relieved when he finally gets back. You’re out of the dress, but you’re clearly safe and comfortable, not a scratch on you. He doesn’t care about his own injuries, but he’s pleased when you fuss over them.

JOHN MARSTON

No way John is gonna dress up like some goddamn banker, but he was totally ready to tease you about having to squeeze into a corset and frilly dress. The problem is, you’re gorgeous in it. He doesn’t know shit about women’s clothes or fashion, but something about the color and style just suits you so perfectly, like it was made only for you. He wants to give a sassy comment, but he just … can’t. John goes for a genuine compliment, but his cheeks and ears are tomato red as he mutters “ya look real nice”. If you hate the clothes, it’s a little easier for him to joke around with you, but if you love them and you’re twirling around, as happy as a kid and looking like an actual lady from one of those fancy paintings? He can only take so much sweetness before he has to duck his head and distract himself with something.

When the gunfight breaks out at the party, John is right by your side before you can blink. You don’t know how he moved so fast, but soon his arm is around your waist and getting you back to his horse. John isn’t the most graceful about this, and the dress is meant for dancing, not riding… so it ends up ripping as you two make your escape. Once you’re in a safe place and you can get out of the damn thing, John’s attention goes straight to the tears in the dress, specifically the one that’s showing the stockings and garterbelt you had to wear. The lingerie looks fantastic - it definitely awakens something in him.

DUTCH VAN DER LINDE

First off, he is not sneaky. Not at all. You know exactly why you were asked to play a role in this little con, and it was so Dutch could see you all dressed up. Now, either you’re totally annoyed by this because screw frills and lace, or you’re delighted because you can dress up like some fancy lady and rob rich folks. Also, it’s pretty funny how he pretends not to be interested in the sort of dress and jewelry you and the girls are deciding on. You know he’s trying very hard not to make a suggestion, and just to be a little mean, you made sure he was within earshot when you mentioned the matter of corsets and fancy undergarments to the girls.

Once at the party, Dutch plays at being some rich banker and you’re his young foreign wife. It’s absurdly easy to pull off, even with your terrible accent, and after each conversation you both are trying not to laugh. He’s definitely liking being able to have an arm around your waist and being able to lean in and whisper to you, but he won’t push his boundaries, especially if you’re already uncomfortable being all dressed up and powdered. While you two are dancing, he’ll whisper in that deep voice, praising you for how perfect you’ve been, or reassuring you that it’ll be over soon. When the shooting started, Dutch pulled you to a safe place you could lie low in, but if you bothered him enough he’d hand you a gun and let you join the shootout.

Back at camp, Dutch’s flirting hasn’t dulled in the slightest. He’ll sit close to you as everyone else celebrates, mentioning how wonderful you were and if you need help slipping out of anything. If you let him, he’ll help unlace those fancy boots, even massage your poor ankles and calves since you aren’t used to wearing tall shoes. Isn’t that thoughtful?

HOSEA MATTHEWS

Nearly all of this con was his idea, and you’re glad to help run it. Hosea is playing the part of some eccentric philanthropist and you’re a grand-niece or some relative. The two of you talk so smooth and fast, easily working off each other, that the hosts of the party don’t stand a chance. Hosea wants to avoid any sort of violence, but knowing the gang, who knows what will happen, so he wants you to stay close to him. During lulls in conversation, when you and Hosea are just observing the crowd and deciding who to speak with next, he’ll lean in and whisper something to you. It makes goosebumps break out on your skin, you can feel how warm he is and sometimes he’ll run a hand up your back as he compliments you on what a natural you are, or reassures you that it’ll be over soon. He’ll truly feel bad if you hate having to dress up and pretend like this; so he’s grateful you agreed to come along and help. If you’re thriving off the party and the trickery, he’ll give you knowing grins and winks that make him seem fifteen years younger. There’s a surprising amount of mischief in him.

When the inevitable fight breaks out (he totally called it), Hosea swiftly gets you to a safe part of the house he noticed earlier. From there you two snatch several stashes of jewels and cash and stealthily make your way out. Hosea had to be convinced to steal as much as you both did; he was terribly worried about you, since the dress would be difficult to run in. When you’re back at camp, Hosea isn’t shy about telling you what a great job you did, and how proud he is. He’ll give a kiss to your cheek and he’s very smooth about offering to remove anything that’s giving you trouble.

SADIE ADLER

Thank god she’s not the one in the fucking gown, that’s all she has to say. Well, that, and the jokes and snark she throws your way while you’re getting ready. If you hate the dress just as much, too bad, you were roped into the plan and Sadie is having lots of playful teasing at your expense. If you adore it and start modeling it for her, she won’t admit how cute you’re being… but she will consider wearing a tuxedo and being some “hoity toity” man just to make sure you’re safe. She doesn’t trust the “gentleman” at this party at all, and the closer you both get to the manor, the more antsy she becomes. All her previous humor is gone as she urges you to find her right away if trouble happens. Sadie is absolutely going to bring your favorite gun along and was trying to figure out a way to strap a revolver to your leg until Hosea pulled you away. You promise you’ll be alright, but she doesn’t look reassured.

The expected fight breaks out, and like you promised, you beeline for Sadie. She’s already on you - how the hell did she get into the manor so fast? - and she’s tossed your gun in your hands. Soon enough you both are blasting your way out of the manor. She gets impatient when you fall for the second time and rips the dress herself so you can run easier. It was your horse she brought around to escape, and Sadie hoisted you up, sat herself in the back and kept shooting while you rode to safety. It was… a hectic and messy escape, but neither of you had a scratch. Once you’re at the camp, she doesn’t feel bad for ripping the dress, even if you liked it. It was necessary, and besides, you can’t keep the frilly thing! Okay, she’ll apologize if you pout. If you hated it she’s more than happy to help you burn it.

MICAH BELL

How the hell is he supposed to respond to this? It would be one thing if you caked on make-up like a tart and strapped yourself into some circus tent-looking contraption, he could work with that. His brain just stops functioning for a few seconds when the girls finally unveil the work they did on you. If you hated the dress and it wasn’t something you’d wear unless a gun was pointed to your head, then Micah certainly had choice words to say, teasing and mocking the difference between this and your regular attire… except they were much weaker insults than he usually had. You were too distracted and uncomfortable to even care. If you adored all of it, practically buzzing with excitement as you turned and twirled for everyone, he might even try an attempt at a compliment, although it’d come out all jumbled and flustered. He decides to stay away and just watch you from a distance, both enjoying the view and trying to figure out this stupid knot in his stomach.

At least you two are apart during the party, so he doesn’t have to look at you enjoying yourself and swaying around in that dress. When the fight starts, he can finally have something else to put his mind to … until he sees you get caught in the crossfire. Micah would throw you a gun he pulled off someone, barking at you to follow him. Dutch told him to get you to safety, which he initially bristled at, but then he dutifully put you up on Baylock. He told you to keep shooting while he rode off - and he still got plenty of shots in himself. Once you were back at camp, he wouldn't apologize for dirtying the dress. It had to be done, and now the job is done, so you can get out of it…. and he would absolutely offer to cut it off with his knife. The whole thing, corset and all. He's gonna fantasize about it well after the fact, too.

CHARLES SMITH

If you love getting a chance to dress up and wear jewels, Charles can tell, and he finds your joy just adorable. If you dislike the idea of having to dress up for a stupid party, even if it’s a robbery, he’s very encouraging and reassures you as many times as you need. This kind of con isn’t really his scene, but he knows you’ll do well and he promises to look after you during the whole thing. He’ll even have you ride along with him on Taima if that'll settle your nerves. Once you arrive, Charles helps you down like a gentleman. If you’re still uneasy, he asks you to wait a moment and then comes back with a rose he picked from the garden. He places it neatly in your tied back hair. “Perfect. Don’t worry, you’ll do great, and when things go south, I’ll be there. Promise.”

Once the fight breaks out, Charles is true to his word and helps you escape in the chaos. You have no idea where he came from, but you didn’t refuse the help, or the gun he offered you - at some point he’d packed your favorite one - and you’re pulled up on Taima as gunshots go off all around you. Charles put you on the front of his horse to protect you better, even if it’s harder to shoot from there. It sort of makes you feel like a princess being swept away. When you two return to the camp, he tidies the rose in your hair and offers to help remove the restrictive dress or massage your legs if they hurt … casually, of course. Probably.

BILL WILLIAMSON

When the girls finally unveiled their handiwork, he thought his heart was stopping. You were so pretty - well, you normally were, but now more than ever. You looked like one of those porcelain dolls they put in music boxes. Bill didn’t even want to touch you or stand too close, worried he’d dirty you somehow. He couldn’t believe you wanted him to play the role of the bodyguard that would follow you around the party.... Though he played the part well, his silence combined with his big build made him seem intimidating. If you were clearly miserable in the dress and with the company, he wasn’t sure what to say to make you feel better, so he stayed quiet. If you were loving the dress and just thriving in the party, fooling everyone into thinking you were some high-class belle … Well, he was too distracted watching you, still not able to say much.

Eventually he had to split off from you to join the men, which he didn’t appreciate, but he made a point to bring your gun along with his. When the expected gunfight broke out, Bill beelined for you, practically tossing a man that was too close and handed over your gun. He didn’t expect you to be so grateful, it made him blush in spite of the gunshots going off all around you two.

The fight was more dangerous than expected, so Bill hoisted you up on Brown Jack without warning and raced off. Your dress ended up getting ripped from his haste, and if you really liked it, he feels bad for screwing it up. It’s easy to turn around his mood by complimenting what a good “bodyguard” he was. Just don’t flirt too much, he’s already had a mess of feelings today.

JAVIER ESCUELLA

He was trying to hide his excitement when he found out you were going to be dressing up and joining the others on this con. You’re already an angel, now he’s going to see you dressed in a beautiful gown and decorated with jewels? It fit so perfectly, too, like it was made for you. Javier wouldn’t hide his approval of the outfit, even giving you some suggestions on more comfortable shoes or a better hat. Mary-Beth thought it was adorable and left him to help you out - that made it much harder for him to hide how pleased he was with your outfit. If you truly hated it, he’d understand and would try to reassure you that not only did it look wonderful, you were going to pull the job off perfectly. His warm hands would sit on your shoulders as he said this, hoping you trusted in him. If you’re the sort who loves dressing up and conning, he shares your happiness and will even dance with you a little before you have to leave, relishing in your giggles.

While the party went off well, with you playing your part perfectly, chaos inevitably broke out. You have no idea where Javier came from, but you were damn grateful that he’d seen you and pulled you into a safe corner. Together you both snuck into the manor, stole as much jewelry as you could carry and easily slipped out the back, gunshots still echoing through the place. Javier grinned as he draped all the stolen necklaces and bracelets on you, asking you to keep them safe for now. You clasped your arms tightly around his torso when you rode away with him, resting your head against his back whenever you got tired.

SEAN MACGUIRE

He all but jumps out of his seat with delight when he spots you. Mary-Beth is still fussing with your hair, but the corset under your dress has already done all sorts of magic, and the dress itself hugged you like you were meant to wear it. Of course he can’t resist from fawning all over you. He wants to pick you up and twirl you like a princess, but Miss Gaskill scolds him for dirtying the dress and he gets dragged away by the men. For once Sean was wishing he was away from the action and complained enough that they let him accompany you on the carriage - that is, as the driver. Sean didn’t even notice if you were extremely uncomfortable, he was too busy gabbing about the party and saying what a natural you’d be. When you finally have to leave, he takes your hand and gives you a warm smile. “You’ll do great. I know it.” He didn’t realize how comforting it was.

Once trouble began, you were impressed how quickly Sean scrambled to your side, and with your gun no less. Before you could question how he did it, he was gleefully shooting and directing you away from the fight. As much as Sean wanted to stay and end it, he was far more concerned with your safety, you noticed. He swung you up on his horse with little grace, and even if your dress was ruined with blood and mud and your hat went flying off, you laughed as you wrapped your arms around his torso and listened to the wild man whoop and shoot through the escape. Sean would absolutely be the type to help you off the horse and insist on carrying you around camp, bragging about his “rescue” the whole time.

LENNY SUMMERS

God damn it, he already thought you were cute! Now you’re gorgeous and he’s way too bashful to say anything about it for a while. He’s thankful for the girls fussing over you and the boys dragging him off to discuss the plan, because being around you is too distracting and makes his thoughts short-circuit a bit. He’s normally fine with talking to you! And it’s just a dress, so what’s different? If you really loved the outfit, you’d be a natural in it, and Lenny would find your enthusiasm and confidence very attractive. If you clearly hated it, he’d want to comfort you somehow, but would worry about coming off wrong. It’s a shame you didn’t like the outfit, because you looked fantastic in it. Before he had to leave with the boys, he’d pay you a compliment. “You’re gonna do real well, miss. Um, you … you really fit the role.”

He has a good sense of when things will go south, and when Lenny felt the tension in the air, he made a point to find you in the crowd. Ones the bullets started flying, he found you before you even made sense of the situation. Lenny would rather get you to safety right away, but if you want a gun, he ain’t denying you. All his previous nervousness would be gone as you both would shoot up the place, then find a horse to escape on. Lenny wouldn’t feel that shyness again until you both got back to camp, when he had to help you off the horse. He’ll immediately start joking about your dirty dress and praising your gun skills to keep his beating heart in line. Lenny feels much better when you’re back in your old clothes.

KIERAN DUFFY

He was embarrassed enough watching the girls parade you around, pleased with their work, and they had every right to be - you looked even more beautiful than the women in the magazines. It’s like you walked right out of them. He felt bad if you were forced into the role, knowing you probably hated the whole get-up, but if you absolutely enjoyed it, he was enchanted by how you seemed to beam with happiness. He’d only seen you like that a few other times, and he was pleased to commit it to memory. When you’re getting ready to leave, he can’t help but give you words of encouragement. He can’t imagine you’ll do anything but shine at the party.

Kieran was tasked with staying behind at the camp, as he expected, but at least he was trusted to hold a gun and stay on watch duty. His thoughts often drifted to you, wondering if you were doing well and if you were sick of the party or having the time of your life. When he heard powerful hoofbeats, he snapped at attention, readying the gun and calling out... only to recognize your horse and your silhouette. Your dress was a torn mess, but it was still restrictive, so Kieran wasted little time in helping you down. “Miss, are you alright? You aren’t - is that your blood or someone else’s? Alright, good. C’mon, sit down here.”

You told him about what happened at the party, how things got out of control and you had to flee in a hurry. The boys were likely splitting up to shake the law off them. Kieran was so relieved you were alright, his heart was hammering but outwardly he was calm as he helped tie your sprained ankle and get you some water. He wasn’t his nervous self at all, tending to you and asking questions with confidence ... until you pointed out you needed help getting out of the corset and dress.

TILLY JACKSON

Tilly was initially in charge of “acquiring” the jewelry and accessories you’d wear, but she ended up shooing the other girls away when they kept suggesting ridiculous hair and make-up ideas. She didn’t care what lady’s magazine Karen read, Tilly wasn’t about to turn you into a side-show act. She was always helping you with this or that, you both relied on each other. She always knew how to reassure you, taking your face in her hands as she spoke softly. “Listen, it’s nothin’ you ain’t done before, just wearin’ somethin’ fancy now. And those boys will do their job right and keep you safe, I’ll make damn sure of that.”

If you hate this sort of thing - dressing up and conning others - Tilly would’ve tried to help you get a different role, but ultimately, you had to do it. She’d give you a softer version of her usual tough love. If you loved it, Tilly would be the one teasing you to get your head out of the clouds. Either way, when you were distracted, she’d threaten the hell out of the boys to keep you safe. Even Arthur would get an earful; if you so much as came back with a scratch, she’d have their hides. If you came back a muddy, bloody mess because you couldn’t resist joining in the gunfights, Tilly would have your hide, too. If you came back mostly clean because you avoided the fight, she’d just laugh and tease you for being so “fussy” - but she was relieved you came straight to camp. The dress and jewels are all sold afterward, but Tilly keeps some bits of fabric to sew you both something.

MARY-BETH GASKILL

You have a feeling she’s enjoying this ... a lot. While the both of you were cool as you acquired the dress and jewels to go with it, as soon as you were back at camp, Mary-Beth was giggling and going on about how to do your hair. Soon enough you were dragged off to a tent for privacy and she dressed you up, cooing over your figure in the dress and how nice you looked. She didn’t even notice how flustered you were getting - of course if you enjoyed dressing up, you could share in her enthusiasm and get her advice on how to style it. If you hated it ... Mary-Beth reassured you it looked wonderful, “just like a princess!” Well, that didn’t help, but her obvious swooning was pretty cute. Mary-Beth ended up coming along with the job, dressed up herself and playing the part of your “companion”, since all high-society ladies were about that. You’re pretty sure companions weren’t supposed to be as red-faced or affectionate as she was around their ladies, but you weren’t complaining.

At the party you two were naturals, and what little screw-ups were quickly covered up. If Mary-Beth didn’t know something, you did, and vice-versa. You two were actually quite a team, and you noticed Hosea winking at you in approval from across the room. When trouble was starting, you pulled Mary-Beth aside and you both hastily dug through the manor’s drawers and silver cabinets while the gunshots went off outside. If you needed to defend her, you would, but luckily it didn’t come to that. You were able to steal a horse from their stable and go riding off, Mary-Beth holding tightly and urging you to go faster. You both couldn’t resist keeping two matching bracelets from the robbery.

KAREN JONES

Karen may not be interested in passing as one of those hoity toity girls, but she’s absolutely gonna help dress you up as one. She’s laughing the whole time, throwing out suggestions and distracting the hell out of Tilly and Mary-Beth as they work. Karen was the one who found the dress, and you’re surprised at how well it flatters you and how the color suits you so well. “Didn’t I say I know how to pick ‘em? Now tighten up those laces! Society ladies don’t have fun!” Karen is quite pushy regardless if you want to do the job or not - if you don’t, she’ll all but drag you to the carriage the boys brought and force you in. It’s a hell of a chance to get a lot of money, and she doesn’t want you missing it. If you love it, that’s all the better! She teases you plenty either way while you’re trying to dress, and gives you a big kiss before you have to set out, not caring who sees. You were long gone by the time she turned on the boys and all but threatened them to bring you back safely.

The party was lonely without Karen, you wished she had been part of the plan so you both could talk together instead of mingling with these insufferable people. Sure, she may have been a little too loud and unladylike... but it would’ve been far more fun. You escaped on cue, making a point to steal a gorgeous stallion as you left the manor behind, listening to gunshots ring out through the night. The boys (and Sadie) were doing their part, so it was time to go home. You had not expected Karen to come riding on your horse with a gun. “Damn it, you were takin’ too long! I got worried...”

She tried to hide how worried she actually was on the way back. She helped you out of the infernal buttons, lacing and corset, and gladly snuggled your aching body. By the time the boys returned to camp, you both had fallen asleep in your tent.

FLACO HERNANDEZ

You’d mentioned the plan in passing to Flaco, and he was so worried for your safety he came all the way down from that forsaken mountain to make sure it went off well. He didn’t hide that he disliked you working with “that little gang” when you could just stay with him, but that was for another time. While everyone ran around preparing for the con, he watched with great amusement as you were primped and stuffed into a corset and ballgown, whistling at you and making plenty of jokes. You weren’t going to live this down, ever. Once your outfit and hair was mostly finished, Flaco patted his lap and you sat obediently until it was time to go. Even if you hated the dress, Flaco thinks you look beautiful and will tell you so, kissing your cheek and muttering all sorts of sweet things to distract your nerves. He really doesn’t care about showing you off, if anything, he’s amused by your friends trying to look away.

It was hard not to think of him as the party progressed. You played the role well enough, but soon you were itching to get back to camp. Who knew how long he would stay around before going back to that cold place? The expected gunfight broke you out of your thoughts, and as you made your escape ... you suddenly felt a pair of familiar, fuzzy arms wrapping around you. “I’ve got you now, princesa. Why don’t you come back with Flaco?”

He was able to get you back, but not to your gang’s camp. Flaco had set up his own spot, making a point to bring your horse and your things... the only way the gang knew you were alright is he left word with Miss Grimshaw (after she gave him a thorough ‘questioning’ about his relationship with you). You better believe he’d help you out of that fancy ensemble, but if you really loved it he’d urge you to dance and spin around for him. It’s a rare day when he sees you wearing something other than four layers, after all.

#arthur morgan x reader #john marston x reader #dutch van der linde x reader #micah bell x reader #sadie adler x reader #hosea matthews x reader #charles smith x reader #bill williamson x #javier escuella x reader #sean macguire x reader #lenny summers x reader #kieran duffy x reader #tilly jackson x reader #mary-beth gaskill x reader #karen jones x reader #flaco hernandez x reader #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 preferences #omg i love this prompt but i took forevveerrr es tut mir leid

1K notes · View notes

rodeo-boots · 3 years ago

Note

Could you write something for Flaco x f reader who is really short? NSFW if you want with some size difference, please!

This is entirely NSFW, I hope that's okay!!

Rating: Explicit

Words: 1343

AO3

–––––––––––––––––

You weren't tall. By all means, you sometimes felt tiny while standing next to other people, most of all Flaco Hernandez, who you've been well-acquainted with for a while.

He wasn't your lover, wasn't more than a partner in crime, but sometimes, the both of you helped each other out... wherever you could.

It wasn't rare that he asked for your company, that he asked you to stay the night at his cabin. Sometimes there really was a snowstorm that prevented you from riding back home. But most days, you could easily pretend that was the case.

Tonight was no different.

You had arrived as always, had told him of the job you've finished and refused to take his reward. Because, really, you weren't doing any of this for money anymore. Every time you came to see him, it was a pleasure more than anything.

"So, Miss... is it time to go already?" He asked, his breath shaping clouds in front of his face.

Why he lived up here, in the cold and frost, you had never understood. You doubted you ever would.

"Depends," you replied, resting your hip against the desk he sat on. "Would you like some company tonight?"

You surely would, and you knew him well enough to tell that he thought the same way.

He took you in, eyes roaming your shape, or what was visible behind your layers of clothing. "It would be a pleasure." Always so damn courteous. You had believed him to be nothing but a rough and tough gunslinger, but it turned out he could be sweet as summer wine.

A smile shaped upon your lips, and you settled by his side to stay. After all, the warmth of his body next to yours beat the cold outdoors by lengths.

It didn't take long before things escalated between you two. Really, it never did.

Before the night had fully broken, you were already straddling his lap, his powerful thighs beneath your slimmer ones, and his big palms holding your waist so easily.

He was sucking and nipping at the skin of your jaw, planted kisses along your neck and up to your ear. His lips weren't soft, but they were perfect that way, your lips parting at the ticklish sensation of his mustache rubbing against your skin.

"You're so tiny, little bird," he whispered, teeth pulling on your earlobe until your breath hitched and a shiver ran down your spine. "Always hidin' in those huge coats to look bigger than you are, huh?" His assumption wasn't wrong, though you preferred the thick pelts solely to stay warm whenever you were close to his cabin.

Right now, there was nothing better than taking them off, however, nothing better than to allow him to take you in for what you were. His eyes followed your every motion when he leaned back, admiring you the moment you were left in only a shirt and pants.

"You only show yourself to Flaco, don't you?"

He could get possessive, but if that didn't turn you on, nothing would. "Of course," you mumbled, rolling your hips to offer him some friction. The space within his pants had to get smaller by the second, and you wondered how long he'd be able to stay patient.

Grumbling in apparent satisfaction, Flaco's hands wandered up your sides, fingers teasing at the hem of your shirt. "Think you're ready for me?" He asked, and you had the audacity to smirk and grind down on his bulge again, eliciting a deep groan from his mouth.

Flaco didn't waste a second. He scooped you right up into his arms, carrying you with ease while your legs wrapped around his waist.

While he carried you over to the bed, his lips mapped out the bare skin of your neck, teeth teasing your pulse point. But before you were able to react, to do more than take in another sharp breath, he had already dropped you onto the mattress, climbing over you and covering you entirely with his massive body.

In comparison to you, he was a beast of a man; most of all with his thick coat. You didn't have any complaints about that, however.

"Fuck me," you demanded, out of breath without him needing to do as much as touch you.

A single look of his was often enough to undo you, and right now, you've had plenty of those focused on yourself already.

He grumbled again, fingers hooking under your waistband to pull your pants down a little bit. Just enough to expose your dripping cunt.

You took in another breath, cold meeting your sensitive sex, your legs trying to close while he only pressed them up against your own chest.

Shit. You didn't know you were this flexible.

"Looks like someone's hungry?" The smile was evident in his tone of voice, thick fingers dipping in between your wet folds with ease.

You gasped, unable to deny his statement when your excitement was more than just obvious. If only he'd stop playing with you.

"It'd only be fair to treat my lady well, don't you think?" He muttered, first one and then another finger pushing into your tight heat, stretching you more than your own ever could.

He didn't even have his cock out yet, and you were already close to coming undone, your thighs quivering when he brought his fingers deeper and crooked them to massage your sweet spot.

Your fingers curled in the blankets, lips parting to release a needy moan. "Right there– please." Any sort of challenge had long since left you, your body needing more in this very moment, needing the release you haven't had in quite some time.

But Flaco grew confident at your shameless display, pulling his soaked fingers out and circling your clit only once, before his touch was gone for good.

Unable to squirm much when one of his hands still kept your ankles secure, you could only wait until he had opened up his bottoms, staring at his reddened erection while pre-cum spilled off the tip and onto the blankets.

You liked your lips at the sight, knowing that Flaco wouldn't want to make himself wait now, the man moving closer as he grabbed the inside of your knees, pushing them further down while he thrust in. With one swift stroke, he had bottomed out within you, the breath forcefully knocked out of your lungs at the stretch you'd never grow used to.

Whimpering when he pulled back out, you remained trapped beneath him, blood rushing within your ears while he started to take what was his without any care about your difference in size.

"So tight," he bit out, holding onto you with enough strength to leave bruises, your tangled pants and underwear only rendering you completely incapable of moving.

How he managed to fit, you still hadn't figured out, holding onto the sheets as he started to pick up the pace.

Each deep stroke knocked you backwards, made you gasp out and your vision darken. It felt good, much too good to be true – the fact that he could oh-so-easily crush you under his weight only making your heart race that much quicker.

You cried out, and he took that as his cue to go even harder. His balls slapped against your wet skin with each thrust, the sound of his grunts and groans mingling with your own pleasurable noises.

Of course you didn't last, couldn't hold back when he angled his hips and pounded into the most sensitive areas within your cunt, your body clenching around him when you came near entirely untouched.

Only his cock had gotten you off, your breath harsh and erratic, hips stuttering while he kept going, thrusting deep and hard while your walls milked him for his release.

At the last moment, he pulled out, making a proper mess of your bare thighs and your cunt, his seed dripping down to seep into the sheets upon the bed.

#flaco hernandez #flaco hernandez x reader #flaco hernandez x female reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 requests #rdr2 fanfiction #nsft #size difference #my writing #anon #im sorry this sucks ive been writing something else nonstop and wrote this to take a break lmao

87 notes · View notes

funkwhistle · 4 years ago

Text

Flaco Hernandez Alphabet

Warnings: Read at your own risk - it's NSFW (exhibitionism, mentions of wax play, blood/knife kink, bondage - but only briefly)

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

Will always check on you afterwards

Whether it's just wrapping in you in some blankets to keep you warm to gently massaging your sore muscles; anything he can do to make you comfortable, he will.

Kisses everywhere — peppering you in affection and praise

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Flaco loves your eyes first off — when you're all bundled up in furs they're pretty much the only thing he can see, and they light up whenever you catch a glimpse of him.

But also your legs, and how they always manage to get tangled in his own as you lay there

Or how you use them to hold him deeper into you as he fucks you

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

Depends on his mood, usually loves staying inside you for as long as possible, if that includes coming inside you

But if you ask him, he'd more than happily cum over your stomach (even if he did grumble about how cold it was when he wasn't inside you)

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

He loves cock warming

He heard his men speak about one of the townsfolk doing it once, and Flaco will ask you to do at any opportunity.

Maybe the thrill of doing it in public does something to him, but he firmly believes it actually keeps him warmer

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

Flaco refuses to speak of it, but guessing his legendary status he wasn't a virgin when you met him

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)

mating press — nothing more to add

(and not mattress press)

google it at your own risk — on your own head be it

from something @mallr4ts said ages ago

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

You often find yourself laughing at him, and how seriously he takes himself

But he has been known to laugh a little during sex (mostly when one of you falls over)

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

This man lives in the Grizzlies, do you think he has time to get a full wax?

But in all fairness, he likes to keep it neat (ish) down there

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Eh, depends on — if he hasn't seen you in a while, then the softer side of him goes out the window, that man is nearly always turned on

But that's not to say he doesn't love some tender moments with you

J = Jack Off (Masturbation head canon)

Yes, of course — you're not with him for long, and it's either his hand or travel miles to find you

He's wanted to try mutual masturbation with you one day, but somehow your clothes are on the floor and his cock is in you before he can suggest it

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

As mentioned, cock warming, but he also loves edging you, possibly teasing you for hours until you practically begging for him.

He's heard of most things, but it often takes him a while to warm up to the idea of something new if you suggest it to him

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

I mean, the bed is almost the only thing in the cabin

But fireside on the floor is up there with favourite places — anywhere with you, he'd be happy

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

You taking the lead

Aside from just looking at you, he loves nothing more than you shoving him onto the bed and sinking yourself down on him

Or you pulling him somewhere for an intimate moment

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

Hurt you, in any way

So wax play, blood or knife kinks are completely off the table

He would occasionally tie you up, but only to be fussing over your comfort for the rest of the time

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

Loves (and always has loved) to receive, your lips wrapped around his cock, gagging as it hits the back of his throat — there's nothing which makes the man happier.

But recently he's been going down on you as well, and with his lack of experience you've been helping him

And he's enjoying it more and more now, asking to go down on you without you even prompting him

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

Hazard a guess

Fast, loves the sound of his skin hitting yours, loud enough to embarrass his men outside the cabin

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

yes yes yes

Any moment this man is not having sex, he's thinking about it — so yes

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

As mentioned, if you bring up something new with him, it takes him a while to warm up to it, but is willing to try a lot of things at least once.

“How can you say you don't like something without trying it first?”

But he does love the thrill of public intimacy

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Flaco brings this up frequently, worrying about how he can't keep up for more than one of two rounds now he's older, but you don't mind; he'll make you cum at least once before even thinking about himself

And this man will happily take a break until you're both ready again

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

Nope

I don't think they had vibrators in 1899

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Flaco loves to tease you, to drive you right up the edge before leaving you, whining, on the bed waiting for him

And his hands

Hands everywhere all the time, no mater if you were in front of people, his hands would find themselves stroking circles on your inner thighs whenever he could

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

Not as loud as you thought he'd be, but when he's got more used to you, he'll start being more vocal

W = Wild Card (Get a random head canon for the character of your choice)

While his sex drive is astronomical, he is very controlled about it, preferring not to visit brothels etc

(although in his youth and height of fame it was a different story)

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture, or words)

…

He knows he's bigger than average and will not stop letting you know about it

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

This is man practically lives and breathes sex

Do I need to say any more?

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He'll check on you, but will often find himself snoring peacefully

Particularly after a long round

Something you find very endearing about him, always making sure to tuck him into bed, or curl yourself around him as he sleeps

(big thanks to @a-vast-african-plain & @oatcakebabie for correcting me about the mating press btw)

#flaco hernandez #flaco hernandez x reader #red dead redemption #red dead online #red dead #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption imagine #rdo #rdr #rdr2 #alphabet #flaco hernandez smut #nsft #arthur morgan #funkwhistle

125 notes · View notes

billythecryptid · 4 years ago

Text

Modern!Flaco/F!Reader smut

I am no longer working on this, have at it, I barely made any edits or changes lol, the only difference is our man Flaco gets to get off as well.

-----

"Bebita," Flaco calls out when he reaches over and feels you aren't in bed. The clock on his nightstand glowing 1:30. He sighed, every night it seemed lately. He rolled out of bed and padded down the hallway to find you in the living room perched on the edge of the couch staring off unseeingly. "Bebita," he hums softly. "Are you alright?" You nod but sigh heavily.

"Cant sleep."

"Well let's fix that," he murmurs, kneeling down in front of you. You meet his eye then return his smirk.

"And what do you suggest?"

"A glass of water and a quick orgasm." He winks.

He presses the sweating glass into your hand, the coolness brings you back just a little.

“Drink up bebita, then we can head back to bed huh?” You meet his eyes as you take a sip then smile in thanks. He cups your cheek, thumb lovingly stroking your cheek bone and you lean into it, turning and kissing his palm.

---‐-------

"The way you look, you'd think you were the one that received all the pleasure from this."

He slips your legs over his shoulders before he hooks his arms around your thighs, mouth poised over your pussy as his eyes glisten with excitement up at you.

"I can't help…" he licks a broad stripe up your slit making your thighs shake. "That you have such a sweet little pussy." He licks again this time burying his tongue between your folds and flicking your clit. The sounds he is making are obscene, slurping, sucking and moaning against you, growling when you bury your fingers in his long thick black hair and tug as you writhe and call out beneath him.He brings his right hand around so he can slip his finger into your cunt making you whine.

He reaches with his left hand to pull your pussy lips back to expose your clit better, licking circles around it as he pushes another finger in. “Oh god yes baby,” your needy whine grows into a loud moan as he starts to pump his fingers and you run yours through his hair pushing it back from his face over and over collecting it into a ponytail in your fist. “ Yes baby, yes,” you cry as your hips start to buck at their own accord.

“That’s right, let Flaco hear how good that feels,” he hums against you. The hand not holding his hair reaches back to grab your pillow as he doubles his efforts and you feel your orgasm grow. “Ah, ah, ah baby I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” you are practically grinding against his face, frantic as your orgasm builds. You can feel Flaco hum against you, pushing his fingers deeper and angling them just so. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” you cry out each one going up another octave as your orgasm crests and your body goes ridgid, trembles rippling throughout your tense muscles. Your hips buck a few more times before you are pushing his face away over stimulated. Panting you drop your legs off his shoulders as you sit up a little pulling him by the front of his shirt closer for a kiss. His fingers are still inside you as he leans forward and you give a small cry when he gives them a small thrust, your face burns hearing them squelch but he only hums in pleasure.

“Fuck,” you gasp against his lips as he does it again.

“You got another one for me,” he coos knowing it makes you melt when he talks to you like this in bed. “Hm?” he nuzzles down your chin and up behind your ear. “You gonna cum again for Flaco?” he murmurs into your ear before biting and kissing at your neck. You nod frantically burying your fingers in his hair, keeping his lips on yours as he flexes his fingers inside of you. He loves the way you kiss, and has said as much many times. You are soft but demanding as you bite at his lips and coax his tongue into your mouth. He groans into it as your walls clench around his digits, pleasure recoiling itself tighter than before.

“You are so… what is the word…” he pulls back, eyebrows furrowing as he searches for what he’s looking for, fingers still working inside of you. Your chest warms at the cute look that takes over his face. “Insatiable,” he cheers then resumes his intensity as he leans back down and kisses you breathless before pulling back again. “You are insatiable, after this I bet you will beg for Flaco’s cock, yes?”

“You know me so well,” you gasp out a laugh as his words push you over the edge, your back arches and you shove his fingers free a loud cry leaving your lips. You feel him shift your hips with a tight grip on your thighs, as you are coming down. You are dazed but still take the chance to breathlessly tease him as he pushes your legs back,

“Whenever you’re read-” He thrusts into you, cutting you off, straightening up so he can press down deep inside you. You let out a loud unexpected moan, pussy clenching around the sudden intrusion. It all almost makes Flaco cum on the spot, and he coiled in over you, muscles going taut and trembling. He presses his forehead to yours and you both stare into each others eyes sharing breaths for a moment. You can grab his shoulder as he ruts and grinds down, you pull at his soft cotton sleep shirt whining desperate to feel his skin and he laughs helping you pull it off, straightening up so he can pull it over his head. He tosses it off to the side and you surge up to kiss his hands roaming over his hairy chest.

“Lay back, I want to ride you.”

You straddle his hips your knees barely reaching the bed, you let the straps of your nightie slip off and he pulls it down all the way to rest at your hips. You lean forward pressing your skin against his both of you making all sorts of mewling pleased noises. It had been a while since you’ve had time to do things like this, soft and slow and caring. He pulls you down so your chests are pressed together and thrusts up into you. You nuzzle against him relishing in the feel of his body hair as his hands roam your body.

“Jesus Christo, if you told me that I was going to grow old then find myself a beautiful wife I would have laughed. Even at just growing old-” you cut him off with a deep kiss. You hated when he talked like that, he wasn’t even that much older than you, just had a flair for the dramatic. He rolls the two of you then, arms boxing around your head as he slow as ever thrusts up into you. He breaks the kiss long enough to hear the beginnings of your moan before he swallows it down. He mouths down your jaw to bite your neck hard just how you like and you scream.

“Was that too hard, or did you like it?” he laughs kissing the pain away.

“Yes,” You cry out breasts pressing against his chest as he braces himself over you, arm slipping around your waist to lift your hips, you grab for a pillow already knowing and help him situate it under you.

“Was that to both?” He laughs again, before biting you one more time hips snapping against you, incredible deep at this new angle.

“Yes baby! Yes baby! Yes baby!” You scream as your hips grind against Flaco’s, your orgasm racing towards its peak. “I’m so close-” he pushes your legs back, sending white hot pleasure up your spine and through your limbs, “Fuck!” You scream grabbing his hands where they grip your thighs, throwing your head back mouth falling open.There is no sound, your lungs barely taking in air.

“That’s right, my slutty little princess, are you going to cum again? You going to cum again for Flaco?” He pulls one of his hands free so he can brush your hair back. “Look at Flaco when you come for him, come on, open those pretty eyes bebita.” You do your best to obey, as your orgasm pulses through you.

“I’m cumming! I’m cumming! Please fill me with your fucking seed, please,” you turn your head fisting the blankets bringing some to your mouth to bite as you cry out in ecstasy. Flaco’s hips stutter as your pussy tightens around him tipping over the edge, bucking twice more before stilling, hips flush to yours, a long pleased moan leaving his lips. He presses his sweaty forehead to yours as the two of you work to catch your breaths.

-------

You snuggle down against his side, throwing your leg over his and nuzzling your face against his chest, his arm tightens around your back as he pulls you even closer.

“Feel better bebita bonita?”

“Much,” you tilt your head back, pressing a kiss to his jaw before settling back down, sleepiness washing over you.

#rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #modern rdr2 #flaco hernandez x reader #rdr2 smut #flaco hernandez #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #my writing #im dozing as i write #please dont hate me I just only have crumbs to offer #im doing my best here my friends i promise #if this doesnt get hate i'll post more wips

83 notes · View notes

neon-junkie · 4 years ago

Note

Could I get some of the boys reacting to their male s/o or crush having thicc ass 👌🍑 like would they sneak peaks? 👀 The only one I really want would be Arthur and you could choose the rest! Also if it’s not too much to ask, maybe Flaco too? 👉👈

here's those peachy, spankable, thicc ass headcanons for you 🍑

Arthur

"Damn, Boah! You thicc!"

Of course Arthur is going to sneak peaks; he attempts to be subtle about it, but he's far too obvious. If anybody comments on Arthur peeking at you then he'll get all flustered, and deny it, whilst stumbling over his words.

Low honor Arthur is definitely going to give you a cheeky slap if you two begin flirting/dating.

High honor Arthur prefers to fondle and play with your ass, but only when you two are finally dating.

Both Arthurs love giving you massages just so they can play with you for a while until things begin getting heated.

Flaco

"Ey, watch where you're pointing that thing!"

Flaco is a man of confidence; if he sees something he wants, he takes it (within reason of course.)

So, the second he sees you with that fat ass, he's weaving his way in there. He doesn't bother hiding his peaks, he wants you to know he's after you.

Will definitely smack your bum, but only when you two are flirting/dating; he doesn't want to cross any boundaries.

Always wants you on his lap for obvious reasons; he's glad you have a padded bum, it means his legs won't go numb quickly.

Dutch

"I didn't know we had a new prize pony in camp."

Dutch is surprisingly decent at keeping his sneak peaks private, he's a very subtle guy.

He's a blatant flirt as well, and will offer to 'help you relax' every time you come back from a stressful mission, but we all know what he really means.

Loves having his hand on your ass; he'll pretend he has his arm is around your waist, when really he's slipped his hand into the back pocket of your pants.

He spanks you when you deserve it, it's a punishment thing to him, but if you pretend to be naughty then he'll catch on to what you want. (Steal an apple off him or something idk.)

Trelawny

"That's... quite a behind you have there, my dear."

Trelawny is perfect at keeping his peaks private, he's very respectful and only takes his chance when few people are around.

He personally loves the look of his gloved hand against your naked rear, it's 'artistic' as he calls it.

He's not one for spanking, maybe a few playful slaps when you've been naughty; he prefers to hold and massage you, sensual is his forte.

Like Dutch, he'll often pretend to have his arm around your waist, when really his hand is in your back pocket. He'll give you a cheek squeeze often.

#this is so funny ngl #ive never had a request like this xD #rdrwriting #rdrheadcanon #male reader #m!reader #reader insert #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #flaco hernandez #flaco hernandez x reader #dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #josiah trelawny #josiah trelawny x reader #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #woah-cowboys

128 notes · View notes

marybethsjournal · 4 years ago

Text

Flaco’s Rules (Flaco x virgin f! reader)

Summary: You come back from a long journey without telling Flaco beforehand and he teaches you a lesson.

Word Count: 2624

Warning: smut (also the first time I’ve written smut so lmk if I should write more or not lol

Here is the story link if you prefer ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/29768013

It had been about a year since you and your brother had unofficially joined the Del Lobos. That was quite a long time to y’all, seeing as the two of you didn’t like to commit to other people, y’all had always rode alone. It wasn’t so hard to be an affiliate of the gang, however. You and Billy could go wherever you pleased and not communicate with the gang for weeks on end, as long as you brought money back to the gang and spoke to Flaco when you returned to the Grizzlies. The two of you weren’t exactly the typical Del Lobos affiliates, but you were quick and accurate with a gun and had never snitched before, so Flaco welcomed you and Billy into the gang rather kindly.

This time, you and Billy had been gone for at least a month. You hadn’t intended on staying out that long, but a heist led you to France and it had taken forever to travel there. Upon your return, Flaco demanded to speak to you and Billy. Flaco always wanted to hear from you after your trips but when the Del Lobos told you that Flaco needed to speak to you, they passed along that he was much more tense, almost angry, than usual. Not much scared you in this cruel world, but an angry Flaco did.

You and Billy immediately set off to speak to Flaco in his cabin. It was a very short walk from the rest of the cabins, but the fear in the pit of your stomach made you walk much slower than normal. Billy seemed to have the same feeling.

“What do you think he’s going to say?” Billy asked you.

“He’s probably mad we stayed out this long? What else does he have to talk about? Surely he’s not calling us in to have tea, Billy.” you replied with a shakiness in your voice.

This apparently made your brother quite angry. His face went from fearful to enraged in half a second.

“He doesn’t control us. He can’t tell us what to do. We will never be his workmen. We forge our own path.”

“I agree, but we accepted his offer of protection in the Grizzlies and he expects us to follow his rules, I suppose. Just try not to make a scene. I know how you are.”

“Fuck you, I’ll make a Hell of a scene. Just watch.”

“Billy, stop”

It was too late. The two of you had reached the door to Flaco’s cabin and instead of listening to you, your twin had bust through the door without warning. He always had been hellbent on destroying authority.

“Mr Hernandez, we do not have to answer to you! You think you are better than us but old man, you are far past your prime. In fact, my sister and I have racked up bigger bounties than you already. This superiority complex has to stop or else you will find a bullet between your eyes.” Billy word vomited at Flaco.

You had looked at Billy in confusion the moment he started talking. Superiority complex? Bullet between his eyes? What was this man talking about? Flaco eyes grew dark at the rude words and you cowered in fear, planning on what to do if Flaco tried to kill him.

To your surprise, Flaco began laughing. “Oh, the little boy think he can talk big to Flaco? He think he can scare me, huh? Puffing out your chest, thinking he is a man. You are pathetic. Leave before I shoot you, I will talk with the girl. She is more reasonable than you.”

Billy scoffed. “Who do you think you’re talking to, old man?”

“Billy, go. You have disrespected him.” you said softly.

Billy huffed and puffed but he still ended up leaving.

“Now, what do you want, Flaco?” You asked. Your brother insisted on calling him Mr. Hernandez as a way of “keeping his distance”, whatever that meant, But you, well you had a sort of friendship with Flaco. You definitely had a soft spot for him. You didn’t feel anything but disdain for most men, but you liked Flaco. Maybe more than you would like to admit.

“You were gone for a long time.” he informed you, like you didn’t already know.

“I know, we didn’t mean to. We made our way to France for an art heist and we sure made you a lot of money. Would-”

“I was worried,” Flaco said softly, cutting you off. “I do not care about the money. Your cabron brother is right. You have big bounties on your head.”

You laughed lightly, not showing that you were taking his care for you to heart.

“We can take care of ourselves. Been taking care of ourselves for well over a decade, since we were very little.” you told him, looking at your shoes. You didn’t like to open up to people

“You will have to tell me about that someday. When you are ready. Anyway, don’t care much for the jackass. But you, I care for you. How did your trip go?”

“Fine, made out with a lot of money. Billy’s cockiness got us a bounty over there. That’s a first for us, being wanted in multiple countries.” “Sounds like him.” Flaco chuckled warmly.

“It was good besides that. Ate a lot of the native foods and saw beautiful buildings. I liked it there.”

“Did you find a French lover? That is what they’re known for, eh? Love?”

You laughed at him. “I think that is just a stereotype. I was too busy anyhow.”

“Too busy for love? You have a lot to learn, but you are young and Flaco is old, so it makes sense you are not as wise. Surely you had boys following you around, though? You are very beautiful.”

“I guess so.” you responded awkwardly. Truthfully, several men had followed you around during your time there, yelling things at you that you were glad you couldn’t understand. You assumed they were lewd. It all made you so uncomfortable.

Flaco sensed something was wrong and, not knowing how to comfort you, changed the subject, although not one you particularly wanted to talk about either.

“You did disobey your part of the deal, though. You understand that, yes?”

“The deal?” You asked. You had no idea what he was talking about.

“The deal we made when you joined Del Lobos. When we gave you our protection.”

Oh, that. You didn’t remember there being any specified deal, much less that you couldn’t leave for an extended amount of time, but Flaco looked angry so you decided not to question him further.

“Oh yes, I do. I’m sorry we broke the rules, Flaco.”

“Do not call me that right now. We are not friends. I am your boss. You address me as such. This is a serious thing you have gone and done.”

“I’m sorry, sir?” the term felt foreign on your tongue. You didn’t answer to anybody like this.

“Yes yes. Good. You two need to learn. Your brother, I’m afraid, I can not reprimand because he will make me angry and I will kill him. Poof, no more Billy. But you, I think I can handle you.”

Handle you? What was that supposed to mean?

“I’m not sure I understand. I really am sorry.”

“Sorry is not good enough. I have leniency because you are young and stupid. Any of my men who would do what you did? I shoot them. But you are grown, yes? Old enough to know better?”

You and your brother didn’t explicitly tell people your age for security reasons, so it was a valid question on his part, although you felt you definitely looked old enough for that generally to not be a question. But you were pretty young and you looked it.

“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t be so friendly with you if I was just a kid. That wouldn’t be exactly safe.” You tried to laugh but Flaco’s eyes were narrow and so unkind in that moment that you decided against it.

“Good, then you won’t have a problem taking your punishment.” He smiled wickedly.

“What punishment,?” you asked. Flaco furrowed his eyebrows. “sir?” you added.

He smiled once again, but didn’t let his stern exterior go. He sat down on his cot.

“Lay here.” he patted his lap.

“Oh I don’t think so” you backed yourself into his door. Flaco stayed where he was and looked at you patiently. He wasn’t stopping you from leaving. This was entirely up to you. The two of you stared at each other for a few moments. You could feel the immense tension between you and Flaco. Finally, you walked over and bent over his knee.

“Fine. I guess this makes sense. I did break the rules.” You were mostly reasoning with yourself, not Flaco.

“No, chica. Pull up your dress. You can leave your drawers on.” The request probably should have offended you, but you felt heat in your core at the thought. You tried not to show this on your face, however, and pulled your dress up before laying back down on Flaco’s lap.

“Such a good listener, you are. Wish you would have listened to my rules the first time.” his hand rubbed your ass through your bloomers before striking it abruptly. You yelped in surprise. What was more surprising was that it felt good. You’d never been spanked before, this was all new to you.

“Flaco-” you started.

“Shhh” he brought his hand down again, hard. If he kept spanking you this hard, your ass would be stinging for days.

Yet he didn’t relent. He spanked you seven or eight times, each one harder than the one before. Despite your best efforts, you involuntarily started to let out strangled moans. You cursed yourself after each one. You were in trouble with Flaco, not having sex with him.

Flaco finally stopped and you assumed he was done. However, when you got up, Flaco pulled you back down by your hair. Ugh, why did that feel good too?

“You are not learning your lesson.” Flaco hissed, obviously frustrated, but at the same time it didn’t quite feel like he was frustrated with you.

“No I promise, Flaco.” he smacked your ass once more. “Sorry, sir.”

“I need you to pull your bloomers down.” he told you sternly.

“What? No.” You may be an outlaw, but you were still a lady.

He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look at him.

“Y/n, I’m not gonna make you but-” you nodded at him, signifying that you were okay with it. You never thought you’d be doing this but for some reason, you trusted Flaco. Besides, you secretly wanted him to keep going.

Flaco was visibly confused as to why you had nodded but had made no move to pull down your bloomers. After a few moments, he took the hint and pulled them down himself. You immediately clenched your thighs together, praying that he couldn’t see how wet you were. That however, was a massive failure.

“I think you need to explain something, mi novia.” he said, in the meantime giving you two hard slaps on the ass.

“I don’t know what that means, sorry sir.”

“It means my girl.” he told you in a soft, husky voice.

You shivered at the words. You wanted to be his girl. You wanted it badly. And he seemed to be on the same page as you. He hadn’t done this because you did something wrong and he felt it strongly needed to be corrected. No, he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

“I- well I liked it when you spanked me. I didn’t know I would, I’ve never been spanked before.”

“You’re inexperienced, huh?” Flaco asked, moving his hands from your ass to feel the wetness between your folds.

“Flaco!” you gasped.

“And expressive. I like that.”

“I’m just, oh! I haven’t done any of this before.”

Flaco pulled his hand back abruptly. He was silent and you, sure that you had done something wrong, sat up and looked up at him.

“You aren’t a virgin, are you?” he asked in disbelief.

“Ummm, yeah I am. I’m sorry, I suppose.” you got up from his lap and picked your bloomers off the floor, absolutely mortified.

“Wait, mi angel.” Flaco grabbed your arm. “It’s not a bad thing, not at all. I was surprised, is all. You’re a rough and tumble girl.” he laughed, but it was clear there was meaning behind his words. “Come back here, let ol’ Flaco make you feel good.”

You smiled and laid over him again, this time both of your intentions being clear.

“How about you sit on my lap while I help you? So I can see your face? That should be sufficient payment for the pleasure I will give you, yes.”

You would have jumped over the moon if Flaco had asked you to at that moment, so of course you did what he said and sat in his lap with your legs spread.

You never thought you’d be here, Flaco fucking you with his fingers in his cold cabin (although you felt anything but cold at the moment). You had dreamed of it, sure, but this was real life. You had never considered that Flaco had been attracted to you, but now as you felt his dick strain against his pants, there was no denying it.

Flaco fingered you at different paces depending on what he felt you needed based on your expressions. The higher and more frequent your moans came, the faster he went. When he felt it was becoming too much for you, he slowed down a bit, never losing his rhythm. He didn’t want to overstimulate you, at least this time. Flaco was good at this, surely very experienced, but you tried not to think about that. You focused on the feeling in the pit of your stomach and Flaco’s eyes, which were looking directly into yours. It was a bit intense, but it only added to the experience for you. He seemed to love it, biting down on his lip when you moaned particularly loud. At this point, his fingers were completely slick and you were fucking yourself back and forth on his fingers. The heat in your core was getting more intense and you were becoming desperate. You begged over and over for him to fuck you but he refused.

“No, angel, that is too fast. I have to come up with a way for it to be special.” More special than this? You wanted to protest but he kept fingering you the whole time, bringing you closer to your orgasm the whole time, and you couldn’t find it within yourself to argue back. Besides, a promise to get with Flaco again another time wasn’t so bad.

It didn’t take much longer for you to come undone. Between feeling Flaco’s dick strain against you through his pants and the swift rhythm of his fingers, it wasn’t longer before you threw your head back, moaning his name, and came onto his fingers. He smirked at the scene and kissed you quickly before removing his fingers.

“You were so good mi novia,” Flaco praised you, before adding, “Now put your clothes back on before you catch a cold. You need to stay warm.”

“We can- we’re gonna do this, again, right?” you asked Flaco after you put your skirt and underwear back on and started to walk out the door into the cold.

“Like I could go through this life without having you again. Silly girl.” Flaco told you before picking up a piece of wood off his table and starting to whittle as if nothing had happened.

#Red Dead Redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr #flaco hernández #flaco hernandez x reader #f reader #flachoes

88 notes · View notes

inkrabbit · 4 years ago

Text

About a Cowpoke - Flaco x GN!Reader

Okay, it’s done! A small gift for @mallr4ts I had wanted to finish before her birthday <3 It was originally supposed to be a fluff where Flaco either takes the reader on a sweet date, or simply travels into town to meet them. I ended up going off that path, however, and making it to where Flaco just fantasizes about what he wants to do before confessing. Maybe one day I’ll do the original plan.

Italic words: Mi corazón (my heart), mi vida (my life), my alma (my soul)

Word count: 1,294

Everyone forgot old Flaco.

Oh, but not everyone. Not the one little job hunter who always came up to his old, rickety cabin, rifle ready to go and that look in your eyes. The old familiar fire that burned bright and, in some odd way, always warmed him up. Maybe it was the can-do attitude, or how you would always give him that excited but curt nod before you accepted a job from him. The small smile that splayed across your lips, or how your thumb hooked into your belt, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you listened to his nonsense rambling.

He had studied you every time you entered through that door, quick to shut his old door to keep what little warmth there was inside. He would watch you stomp off the excess snow clinging to your boots, the way the shiver would crawl up your spine and make you tremble. He had offered you to stay a few times, warm yourself up by the fire before you went out into the dreaded cold again. And he noticed how a few deer carcasses had found their way to his doorstep, no doubt a gift from his favorite little errand runner.

Maybe you had finally melted that old, frozen heart of his. As silly as he felt, Flaco found himself awaiting your arrival almost daily. Cleaning his guns, sharpening his knife, whittling away at the piece of wood he worked on day in and day out. Even now, he sits in his old chair, knife carving away pieces of the wood, holding it back every now and then to admire his handiwork. He was almost done, having kept it hidden every time you would burst through his door, looking for more work. Was he a fool for doing this? Making a carving of your faithful horse in hopes it would bring that old smile to your face. Perhaps he was. But truth be told, the thought of you had warmed him more than any fire could.

Everything had gone through his mind regarding how you would accept his feelings. A look of disgust, discomfort or confusion. A relieved expression, confessing you’ve felt the same way. He knew you weren’t much of a talker, something he quite appreciated most of the time. You listened to him, never spoke back, never tried to talk over him. He could tell you the most boring of stories, and you’d stand there silently, listening to everything he had to say – or so he hoped. Maybe you just stood there, slinging every insult in the book at him in your head. He could never know.

The approach of horse hooves catches his attention. Speak of the devil, he supposed. He takes a look at the carving. No, it wasn’t perfect. A gift for a later date, but he couldn’t stand to be silent any longer. He tucks the piece of wood away as you open the door, jacket wrapped tightly around you, a bandana covering the lower part of your face and trapping in extra warmth. He raises his hand, motioning for you to come forward.

“There you are, mi alma,” His voice comes out as a purr, and he can see your eyebrows raise as you draw near. “We got a lot to talk about, you and me.”

He slowly stands from his seat, letting out a soft groan, commenting about his ever growing age. He can feel your eyes on him, watching his every move as he goes to tower over you. He takes in your features, something he had memorized, but was still captivated by. He watches you slowly pull the bandana down, exposing your frozen face.

“I’ve been waiting for you, you know?” he starts slowly. He opens his mouth, intending to continue his talk, but he finds his mouth going dry. It was almost laughable. The “Terror of the Grizzlies” had found himself speechless, almost intimidated by the patient stare you had greeted him with. What was he going to say?

“Flaco…?” Your voice is soft and it snaps him out of his trance. Your eyebrows knit together, searching his eyes for any hint as to what’s going on. His hand almost moves on its own, reaching up to cup your cheek with such a gentle touch, almost like he was scared of breaking you. He’s bent over slightly, lips parted as he finds himself slowly leaning forward. He’s searching for a sign – any sign of you wanting to back out of this. But you never give him one. He feels his heart race. Had you actually been waiting for this? He notices how you slowly lean up, meeting him halfway and pressing your lips against his. Soft and warm, enough to send a shiver up his spine as he lets his eyes flutter shut, using his free hand to wrap it around your waist, dragging you closer. The trembling of your body slowly stops as you reach up to grasp his coat, both of you molding together as the once slow and shy kiss turns more passionate. His sombrero is soon knocked off, one of your hands going to thread through the loose locks of hair. He groans softly against your lips, trailing his hands up and down your body.

It’s not long before he’s taking hold of your thighs, lifting you up and coaxing you to wrap them around his waist, pinning you against the cold, wooden wall of his cabin. He pulls back just enough to admire you, your eyes half lidded and your lips red and parted. His heart is thumping, face tinted red as he brings his face lower, burying it in the crook of your neck and covering every inch of exposed skin with hot kisses and soft nips.

“Mi corazón,” he breathes, his hot breath tickling your skin and making you squirm beneath his touch as his chilly hands find their way inside your shirt. “Mi vida. Mi alma.”

“Flaco,” There’s no question behind his name this time, your head tilting further to the side to allow him leave more marks across your neck. He can’t think properly – can’t even form words in English to tell you how he feels. So he relies on actions, spouting out everything he can think of in a jumble of breathless Spanish. You’re perfect and dependable, a loaded gun with such precision aim it almost reminded Flaco of himself in his glory years, and he makes sure to let this be known. Whether you can understand him or not doesn’t matter to him. What matters is getting his point across, rolling his hips against yours as he trails his kisses lower, nipping at your collar bone and tugging at your shirt as he continues on his tangent.

It’s when the cold breeze hits him does he finally snap out of it. Blinking his eyes frantically, he looks up. He’s no longer got you pinned against the wall. Instead, he’s still seated in his chair, the carving of your horse in his hand as his gaze falls on you. You shuffle inside, a concerned look on your face.

“You feelin’ alright?” you ask, stomping off the snow from your boots as you walk towards him. “Normally you’re on guard, hearin’ me from a mile away…”

“Just thinking, mi corazón,” he tells you softly, straightening his posture and tucking the carving away. The look of concern on your face turns to confusion.

“Mi what?” you question. He shakes his head, waving his hand as he slips his knife back into its sheath. He admires your face, just like he had done in his fantasy. It was now or never.

“We got a lot to talk about, you and me.”

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #flaco hernández #gn!reader #flaco hernandez x reader #flachoes

97 notes · View notes

splat-dragon · 4 years ago

Link

But he was a step above them - he was the boss, he couldn’t just plop down and spread out his wings, ask them to preen him. And none of them dared approach him and offer, either. So, though he never could reach some of his scapulars or secondary coverts, and coaxing free his crooked feathers was more ‘tugging’ considering he couldn’t twist to reach them right, he took care of his wings himself. Maybe they were a bit dusty, a bit too oily, the feathers a bit crooked, but it was the best he could do.

Flaco couldn’t remember the last time he’d had someone preen his wings.

His men preened each other’s wings, of course. They had no women to do it for them, no mates to curl up with and slowly untangle their feathers, coax free the feathers that had broken or come loose. And perhaps to the civilized folk it might have been odd - even illegal, in some places, for a man to preen a man he wasn’t related to’s wings - but they were no such thing as civilized.

He caught you looking at them, sometimes. When he was digging around to get the money to pay you, and he always took great amusement in the way that you blushed underneath your chilled flush when he flared his wings just slightly, showing off his wren’s feathers. And, to his glee, it hadn’t escaped him that you always started to flare your wings in return before catching yourself, giving him an absolutely filthy look before turning on your heel and trotting back out to head down the mountain, nose in the air.

And then you catch him trying to straighten a feather. You’d passed his men in a group preening session, all huddled together and coaxing feathers and taking advantage of the warm (for the Grizzlies, at least) weather to pull off their gloves and rub the oils from the oil gland over their wings. He’d sent you out a few hours passed to ‘handle’ some bounty hunters that had been giving him and his gang some trouble, and hadn’t expected you back quite so soon. He looked at you, hand frozen with the feather half-way out, then flinches as it comes loose with a painful ‘snap!’

You raise the head of the lead bounty hunter as to say ‘job done!’ before dropping it and perking your own wings and waggling them, then gesturing towards his. “Eh?” his eyebrows raise in surprise - after all, preening is a very intimate thing and he isn’t quite sure if you are quite there yet, but he’ll take what he can get - “If you’re sure, pequeña ave ,” and stands to offer you his chair, sitting cross legged at the foot of it. You have to spread your legs to fit him - he’s broad, after all, and after a moment you tug carefully on his rightmost wing to drape it over your lap; and then a moment, and you tug at his thick jacket, Flaco hesitating for a long moment (had you overstepped? you worry) before shrugging it off over his arms and wings and tossing it away, shivering in the cold.

Carefully, you run your hands over the bend of the wing in your lap, flexing it open and closed before leaving it open, his feathers spread across your lap. His feathers, you frown, are a mess, filthy, oily but not in a good way. They’d be pretty, you think, when covered in their natural oils, nice and shiny and straightened out, and at that thought your own wings try to flare but you tamp down the urge, draping them over the back of the chair.

Hours of sitting in the chair haven’t done them any justice, either. The feathers are tangled, twisted and split and matted, some missing altogether, others dangling halfway out and needing to be removed.

You reach over, grabbing a stained rag he’s set aside for just such a purpose, and wipe it clean on your pants leg before beginning to carefully wipe his wing clean, swiping down on each feather gently, the wren shivering, his wing fluttering in your hand. “Soft,” you mutter, and he presses his wing down into your hand, leaning back against your leg, and you set the rag aside, intending on getting all the gnarls and mats and tangles out of his feathers.

And there are so many, “Y’never tend your wings?” you grumble as you carefully coax free a snapped primary, Flaco bracing himself for pain only to sigh when it only tugs a little, like a gentle pinch, leaning back as you go to work untwisting a pair of tangled coverts, smoothing down the ruffled barbs with your thumb. You give his scapulars a wide berth as you go to work smoothing ruffled barbs and sticking-up feathers, humming something tunelessly under your breath as you fall into the instinctual rhythm — you hadn’t realized just how long it’s been since you’ve been able to groom someone, and his feathers feel so nice beneath your fingers. As his eyes go half-lidded with the pleasure your own do the same, the motions familiar, instinctive, as soothing as cleaning and oiling your gun at the end of a long day and before you know it there’s a pile of gently plucked feathers at your side and his feathers are perfectly neat as any ‘gentleman’s’, and all they need are—

—maybe later, that is a bit too intimate. So you nudge him, and the older outlaw jolts awake with a snort, clumsily shoving his other wing in your lap and you do the same to it, wiping it clean before beginning to preen him again, the motions nearly hypnotizing as you fall into that trance, the man slumping back against you and allowing his eyes to drift shut, dozing but not falling asleep. His left wing is almost worse than his right - most of his primaries are rumpled, and getting the barbs back into place is no easy thing - but once they are, a few that are too bent to be saved coaxed into the pile, he looks like a striking bird, though his brown feathers look a bit dusty, if only he’d just let you…

“Flaco?” you ask quietly, tugging your gloves off your hands and setting them aside. And he stiffens - he knows what you’re asking - before finally taking a deep breath and arching his wings so you can access the glistening oil glands at the base of his wings, the man gasping and shuddering as you rub your hands over them, making sure your hands are soaked through before beginning to massage his wings, carefully rubbing each, individual, tiny little feather between your fingers, starting at the top and working your way to his larger feathers, making sure not to miss a single barb. It’s rhythmic, as soothing for you as it is for him, and you only blink back to awareness when his wing is gorgeous, glistening and a rich shade of tan, and he’s all out dozing, your legs asleep where he rests against them. He wakes, just barely, when you tell him to give you his other wing, then dozes off again after the sudden jolt when you soak your hands in the oil of his oil gland, basking in the massage.

You could preen him forever, it is so soothing, but it is so easy to overpreen that you have to force yourself to stop, to wipe your hands clean on the rag (though you’ll have to wash them proper soon unless you want to reek of him) and nudge him awake.

He yawns, and stretches out his wings, giving a satisfied groan, “Aaah, that feels good,” and you can imagine, your own wings itch and it has only been a few months since you’ve been preened, Flaco must have gone years and that sounds agonizing!

Slowly he stands, joints cracking back into place and you try not to grin, though your grin is quickly wiped off your face in your confusion as he turns to you and gestures to the floor, “Well? Sit!” and when you move to stand but not to sit he huffs, grabs you by your arm and guides you to sit with your back between his spread legs. “It’s your turn, pajarita, it’s only fair.”

Any misgivings you might have, he quickly puts to rest.

24 notes · View notes

a-vast-african-plain · 4 years ago

Text

Tears Shed

Flaco/Reader comfort for @mallr4ts

💕💛💕💛

You were late riding up to Flaco’s cabin today. Not that he was keeping track.

Well, maybe he was. But really, who could blame him? You were about the only visitor he had besides a few members of the Del Lobos and the occasional bear, and though he wouldn’t ever admit it, you were his favorite. Flaco had thought he was done with love at his age, but every time you visited, he could feel his chest warm with the telltale signs of affection. He never said anything, sure that you couldn’t possibly return his feelings. Who would fall for some grizzled old outlaw who barely left the side of a mountain? It wouldn’t make any sense. He reminded himself of this over and over. Every time you walked into his little cabin, brushing the snow from your shoulders, every time you warmed yourself by his fire, every time you burst through his door after a successful job, your eyes bright with happiness and your face flushed with cold.

Flaco shook his head, realizing he was lost in thoughts about you yet again. A moment later, a knock sounded on the door and it opened to reveal your shivering form. Well. Speak of the devil.

Flaco leaned forward in his chair as you came inside, quickly shutting the door behind you to keep out the cold.

“Mi pequeña asesina. It’s good to see you. I was starting to worry you had gotten yourself lost.” He chuckled to himself as you approached, setting the knife he had been playing with on the table in front of him. You didn’t respond, your head dipped and your hat pulled low over your eyes as you approached him. He frowned.

“Hey. What’s wrong with you?” Flaco phrased the question bluntly, trying to hide the concern in his voice. You weren’t always talkative during your visits, but something about this felt different. Flaco narrowed his eyes.

“Look at me,” he said as he motioned you towards him.

You sniffed quietly, standing still for a few moments before you finally looked up to meet Flaco’s gaze, your eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Flaco stood up, almost knocking over his chair as he took in the sight of you struggling not to cry. He stepped forward until you were practically chest to chest before he hesitated. What was he supposed to do? He’d never been the best at comfort and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but he couldn’t just leave you like this. He slowly raised a hand to your face, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes.

“Mi corazón...” he trailed off, unsure how to continue. A tear escaped, running down your cheek and he brushed it away with his thumb. You broke at his touch, your tears falling freely as a sob escaped you. You were embarrassed at crying in front of him, but you couldn’t hold back as he cupped your face, his hand warm and calloused. Unable to stand it a moment longer, you dove into his arms and buried your face against his fur coat.

Flaco froze, his arms out and his eyes wide. He had no idea what brought this on, if someone had hurt you or if you were feeling lonely or tired, but he knew one thing. You were here with him. In your time of need, you trusted him, you came to him for comfort and he wasn’t going to let you down. Flaco wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, holding you as you cried. You were so much smaller than him, he noticed, not for the first time. He wished that he could protect you, keep you safe from all the evils of the world. In this moment, with you held tight in his arms, he almost believed he could. For now though, he kept his arms around you, whispering whatever soothing words came to mind.

After a bit, your tears slowed and your grip on Flaco loosened a bit. You stared at the ground, still a bit ashamed of crying in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “I’ve just been feeling a bit self conscious, I guess. I’m sorry for being so much trouble.”

Flaco scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not any trouble. We all need a cry every once in a while, eh?”

You wiped your eyes, smiling softly. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” He looked you over once more, noticing dark circles under your eyes. He cocked his head and put a hand under your chin, lifting your head so that he could see your face more clearly. “You been sleeping?”

You scratched the back of your neck, your eyes darting away from his own. “I’ve been trying.”

Flaco shook his head disapprovingly and you felt the strange urge to defend yourself.

“I’m okay, Flaco. I’ve been working just fine the same as always. I’ll prove it too. You need anything done?”

Flaco rolled his eyes at you. “No. Not until you’ve gotten some sleep. You’re not of any use if you’re falling of your horse from exhaustion. Take my bed and get some rest. And stop being so stubborn.”

You felt a wry smile tug at your lips. “Oh, you love it.”

Flaco grumbled, unwilling to admit how right you were. He felt your hand slip into his own and looked at your nervous expression, a blush evident on your face.

“Would you stay with me? While I sleep, I mean?”

Flaco raised his eyebrows. All this time and you still managed to surprise him. He grinned. “Of course, mi corazón. Come on.”

He walked over to his bed and pulled off his boots and jacket, motioning you over. You did the same before laying down, taking a deep breath to settle your emotions. Flaco laid down beside you, holding out an arm and you smiled as you moved to his side, letting him hold you.

“Sleep tight, mi corazón. I’ll see you in the morning.”

#hope you’re feeling better #and im sorry if this has a bunch of typos #I think everybody could benefit from a flaco hug #I feel like he’d be super warm with that coat lol #flaco hernandez/reader #flaco hernandez #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #savannah writes #flaco hernandez x reader

82 notes · View notes

cosmoeclipse · 4 years ago

Text

I know you don't like the cold

A short little werewolf Flaco x reader blurb, enjoy!

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

"Flaco..." your body was in defensive mode blocking the door, the only exit in the cabin up on the mountains. Your voice was stern and unwavering, you clenched the scissors and brush that were in your hands as Flaco stocked back and forth, growling slightly.

Tonight was Flacos shift and he had promised you last month that he would get the matts out of his fur and take a bath but yet here you are with a matted stinky wolf that you called Flaco that is preparing to break down the door to get away but you weren't going to let him get away that easily, if you had to you would wrestle him down and give him a well needed grooming that he would thank you for later but for now you needed him to stay. still.

"Flaco, sit" you took a step forward "if you break this door with your hunkering form your going to smash it into a million pieces and then you're going to be cold for how ever long it takes you to build a new one" another step forward, you saw Flaco straighten up ever so slightly and lick his chops, contemplating your words. You knew he hated the cold and that you had a good chance of your words convincing him.

Flaco let out a huff of defeat before turning around, circling and dropping by the fire. You weren't fully convinced tho, this could just be a little trick of his to let your defense down then bolt for the door. You took a few tentative steps forward, he didn't move, not a trick? You crossed your legs sitting beside him. Placing the scissors and brush down you gave him a few pats. "You going to be good?" Your voice was soft and sweet trying your best to make your puppy feel as relaxed as possible. He didn't make any sounds just tucked his head further into his paws which you took as encouragement. "Well then let's get this started" you scratched behind his ears and saw the slight wag in his tail.

A few hours had passed and now you had a completely passed out wolf at your feet and mountain of fur at the side looks like a dead animal. Flaco had fallen asleep halfway through, you could tell he felt alot better without all the weight on him.

"Goodnight Love" you kissed the top of his forehead before getting up and stretching before sitting in a proper chair and pulling out a book. You were going to let him sleep through the day, he deserved it, but after you're going to give him a long lecture on proper grooming well making him help you clean up the dead animal that was apparently fur that came off him but for now you were going to let your puppy have the little peace he could.

#flaco hernandez #flaco hernandez x reader #red dead fanfic #rdr fanfiction #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #my work #werewolf au #red dead fandom #red dead community

55 notes · View notes

redemptionbaby · 4 years ago

Note

I absolutely love your Flaco hcs with all my heart like thank you so much ❤❤ If you have time, what would Flaco do when his s/o drags him out of the cabin to go out hunting?

Flaco Hernández

How to put this delicately?

Flaco kinda hates hunting

Well, it’s not so much that he hates the actual hunting part, he just hates that it has to be this whole thing every time

There’s the tracking. The shooting. The scaring of deer and being chased by elk and bears. Then there’s the butchering which is a whole other ordeal. He’s not so bad at it, but it’s still messy. Any idea what it’s like to do laundry in the Grizzlies? It’s awful.

But when you ask him to go hunting with you....

It’s a whole different story

The truth is that while he may seem very aloof, Flaco will take any excuse to look cool in front of you. Sometimes that means getting a clean kill on the deer you’ve been tracking. Sometimes it means taking down a moose that’s after the two of you. Sometimes it means making stew from all of the meat.

Flaco knows what all bitches really want. And that’s stew.

So while he may grumble a little when he has to get up and trudge outside, once he’s out, he won’t drag his feet.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #writing #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #headcanon #flaco hernandez x reader #flaco hernandez

92 notes · View notes

a-libra-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Being the Camp Doctor for the RDR2 Gang

added two characters no one asked for you cant stop me. still tryna get the hang of these guys!

In this imagine, you’ll be fixin up: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch van Der Linde, Hosea Matthews, Sadie Adler, Micah Bell, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Javier Escuella, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy, Tilly Jackson, Mary-Beth Gaskill, Karen Jones, Flaco Hernandez, Mr. Horley

ARTHUR MORGAN

Arthur is grateful and appreciative of you, really! He just isn’t always comfortable going to you for help. He figures he shouldn’t bother you and he should fix his own mess, but all it takes is a stern look for him to sigh and agree to let you have a look. He gets hot under the collar when you lean in so close and touch him so kindly, so he’d really be itching for some small talk on your part. He feels like whenever he starts it, he says weird things, and his train of thought starts leaving the station when he catches a whiff of your perfume.

The whole experience gives him a mess of emotions, especially if you look after him while he’s sick (he ain’t the best patient) but Arthur can’t imagine going to anyone else when he’s hurt. He just likes your gentle touch too much. To repay you in his own way, he’ll bring any medicines and herbs he finds. Heck, you could give him a grocery list of things you need and he’ll come right back with all of it.

JOHN MARSTON

John can’t go a week without hurting himself in some way, but he’s the type to get up, wipe the blood off and ignore it. Or just forget about it - so many times you’ve scolded him for coming to you only when an infection is setting in. It became a joke with the gang that John would mysteriously go missing anytime you went looking for him. You’d have to sneak up on him and pounce, sweetly asking why he’s never mentioned the fingers he broke a week ago. At least when he’s sick, he can’t go anywhere, so he has no choice but to sit and let you check up on him. The attention embarrasses him to no end so thank god for the excuse that the fever is making him red.

However, things were a little different after the wolf attack. You stitched him up neatly, and he was so tired, he let you fuss. You did him a serious favor, he thought, and he felt like he sorta owed you. John wasn’t sure what he’d do to make it up to you, but he could at least sit through your check-ups in the coming weeks, even if they got him feeling all sorts of things.

DUTCH VAN DER LINDE

He doesn't kid himself about what a valuable asset you are to the gang. He’s damn lucky he found you, and luckier that you agreed to work with him. Dutch is loud about telling people to go see you and ensures the medicine cart has what it needs, or everyone is in trouble. He likes to flatter you, both about how appreciated you are and how excellent your skills are. Both points are true, but he mostly does it because you’re cute and he wants to be on your good side. Even if you’re a capable shooter, he’d rather you stay in camp where you’re safe and not in the middle of danger. He’s very stubborn about this.

Dutch rarely gets himself hurt or sick, but he’ll still see you so he has a chance to be fussed over. Obviously, he won’t do it in front of everyone - he’d rather you treat any wounds he gets in his tent. He’s just needy like that and he enjoys watching your nimble hands mix this or stitch that. He might hang around the medicine cart while you treat others to watch you work … and discourage anyone else from flirting.

HOSEA MATTHEWS

Like Dutch, Hosea appreciates you and knows you’re an important part of the gang. He’ll be the one nagging others to see you when they’re hurt and sick and telling them to be still and let you work. You’ve helped him many a time as well, except not just with injuries. When he began to develop his cough, you noticed right away and asked him to try all sorts of comforting teas you put together. He told you not to fuss over him, but he couldn’t refuse something you worked so hard on … and they’re delicious. He has no idea how you made leaf water so appealing.

On a side-note, Hosea likes watching you read your medical books because you have such an interesting expression when you study them. You’ll write notes in the margins and there’s probably a dozen bookmarks in it, it makes him proud in a strange way, like you’re working this hard to help others. He likes to sit next to you and see which chapter you’re working on this time.

SADIE ADLER

You were the one who helped her after she was brought to Colter, and she was in a daze through most of it. Once the group was off the mountain, she stayed close to your medicine wagon, appreciating your calm presence. Sadie finally thanked you then, since you seemed different than the others. She didn’t have much interest in medicine, but helping you was better than dealing with Pearson. Crushing herbs and cutting bandages helped keep her mind off things, and gradually you two began to talk and get to know each other better.

Later when she joined in on the gang’s jobs, she was often visiting you, only half-listening to your warnings to be more careful. Since she helped make your medicines, she knows what ingredients you need, so to make up for her recklessness she’ll often bring you supplies. When you fix her up, she takes good care of the wound so you don’t have to fuss with it later.

MICAH BELL

Even though Micah knew how skilled you were, he never visited you. He’s not the type to seek help even if his insides are melting. He claims he never gets sick and he wouldn’t be so stupid as to get himself shot up - though not two weeks later, you spent an hour digging a bullet out of him. He drank through most of it to avoid showing how painful it was, but your stitches were quick and neat, and they didn’t bother him much. You kept checking up on him too, and you were glad he was taking care of the stitches. Micah wasn’t doing anything, really, he just knew it was stupid to mess with them (your compliment was nice, though).

When you removed them, you were happy that everything healed so well. You kept touching his arm and moving it, he finally had to pull it away because the realization that he hadn’t made anyone that pleased in a while was uncomfortable. After that, seeing you so close to the other men as you helped them tended to get him antsy. He still won’t go to you of his own violation when he’s hurt or sick; he hopes you’ll notice and go to him with that worried look on your face.

CHARLES SMITH

For many years he’s had to take care of himself, no matter if he was hurt or sick. He does … a decent job, but not great, he’ll admit. So when he joined the gang, he was grateful there was someone like you around. Charles appreciates your neat stitches and how careful and considerate you are. When he came down with a small cold, you were right there with some medicine you made, even if he was still new. That sort of consideration just really gives him a pleasant, happy feeling, so he’s more than glad to help you out. Just give him a list of herbs you need, he insists on it. He’ll get some sinew and bone for you to make needles and thread out of, too.

Charles likes to hang out when you’re making your own medicines and ointments. He recalls his mother doing something similar, so it’s very interesting to him. If you wouldn’t mind, he’d like to know how you do it, and how you know what to use. Also, when one of your patients is being difficult, he’s the one to walk over and tell them to behave.

BILL WILLIAMSON

He wants to be the “tough guy” and brush off any injury, even if it really hurts, and he doesn’t want to admit when he’s feeling like death ... But the thing is, you’re nice. Sweet, even, and you have pretty hands and you’re so caring. You worry about him, so he feels rotten for not taking care of himself and going to see you. You check up on him too, make sure everything is healing alright, and it always gets him red-faced and nervous. There’s definitely been a few awkward but well-intended compliments.

Probably because of his crush, he’s a very good patient when he’s sick. He hates feeling that awful so he’ll do whatever you say to get better. Everyone’s very amused at how obedient Bill has suddenly become, since before you showed up he’d just be a pain in the ass. Bill has no idea how to repay you, so he’ll bring you things that he thinks are useful, like some questionable bottles he thought were legitimate medicine.

JAVIER ESCUELLA

Javier likes to stop by your cart for silly things like a “broken heart”, just so he can chat with you and hang around. He appreciates your skills and compassion; he’s sure most of these guys would’ve bled out if you weren’t there, and he tells you so. While Javier played the tough guy in his adulthood and pretended he was fine, sitting with you brings back memories of when he was a kid and getting patched up by his ma. Watching your fingers move so expertly and carefully impresses him, and your compassion at how he’s feeling gets him all fluttery.

He loves that sort of nurturing nature, so he’s an extra obedient patient for you and does his best to look after the injuries you fixed up. And while Javier normally hates people seeing him when he’s snotty and sick, he loves how you take care of him. He doesn’t even hide how pleased he is with your bedside manner.

SEAN MACGUIRE

No surprise, Sean acts tough when he gets the stuffing beat out of him, pretending it doesn’t hurt even as he wobbles. He’ll go to your medicine cart because you must want to chat, not because he’s convinced he broke a rib and he has half a mind to ask if they grow back (he often asks you stupid “medical” questions). He’s his usual big-headed flirty self as you treat him, flavored with plenty of jokes and occasional yelps from pain. So many times Sean has had to go back to you because he accidentally opened his stitches or sprained his wrist again. Hey, he gets to see you again, so it’s not that bad.

Actually, you rarely have to check up on Sean because he likes hanging around your cart even when he’s feeling fine and has other things he should be doing. When he’s actually recovering from something, be it wound or sickness, he trails you like a puppy, asking you to take another look just in case. When he’s totally wasted he’ll steal this legit-looking snake oil and very proudly presents it to you before staggering off somewhere.

LENNY SUMMERS

Lenny is reasonable, he sees no shame in visiting you when he’s needing to be patched up or feeling under the weather. He hates feeling sick so he’s on point with taking the medicine you give him. And honestly … being treated by you, especially for colds and stuff, gets him a little case of the feelings. It reminds him of being back home, taking some remedy his mama put together to help a sore throat or bad cough. You often noticed this sentimental look on his face whenever you made him something.

He’s very interested in the whole process, so sometimes he accompanies you as you gather herbs or make medicine and asks you how it works. Eventually Lenny starts helping you out and being something of an assistant, although patching up bullet wounds and stitching skin makes him a bit queasy. He thinks your medical books are beyond cool and likes to read them, even if the information can be a bit dense. When he’s out he likes to search for similar books and hopes they’re useful to you.

KIERAN DUFFY

You were the one who treated the wounds he received when he was captured - the gang was willing to just leave them be, but Kieran overheard you arguing that you weren’t about to leave a man bleeding all over the place. You sounded tough and he flinched when you showed up with the needle, but once you started patching him up he was in awe of how gentle and careful you were. You kept asking if it hurt, and for the next few days you’d come by with medicine to make sure everything was healing alright. Kieran had never had such kind attention like that since… Well, he couldn’t remember.

Afterward he knew he had to thank you somehow. His theoretical leash was still short, but he could look after the horses that pulled your cart. You realized how knowledgeable he was, so while you taught him about medicine for people, he’d teach you things about helping your horses. It goes without saying he grins like a dork whenever you thank him for it.

TILLY JACKSON

She’s not the sort to be squeamish around blood, but that doesn’t mean she wants to be assigned to stitching up the boys when they get themselves in foolish situations. The good side is Tilly enjoys spending time with you, since you both are usually too busy with different things to chat. So when it’s her turn to be your assistant, she takes full advantage, catching you up with what’s been going on. If you’re more introverted she has all sorts of fun gossip, if you’re more outgoing she’ll encourage you to go on jobs with her and the girls, or just have fun with them. She’s also usually the one washing the blood out of your bandages before you disinfect them, so you have her to thank for that.

Tilly likes helping you gather ingredients to make medicine. Something about it just tickles her, like you know some secret that no one else does. She’s the biggest fan of your teas because nothing else helps her get through a headache, and if that wasn’t already a reason to like you, you’re so nice when she’s sick. She’s never had anyone be so attentive and kind to her when she’s ill, and it gets her a little embarrassed at how happy it makes her.

MARY-BETH GASKILL

Oof, she really doesn’t like helping you clean up blood and guts, or lord forbid digging out bullets (once was enough!). So instead, she’ll steal you some good quality medicines and supplies she spotted, or she takes over your chores so you can rest after a night of patching wounds. A big reason she’s so grateful is because at the orphanage, no one gave a damn if she was puking her guts or gushing blood. The first time she was having horrible cramps she tried to hide it, but you were so sweet and empathetic. You gave her some strange tea, bundled her up with a blanket and set warm bricks wrapped in cloth to soothe the pain. She’d never been so tended to in her life, it made her speechless.

After that Mary-Beth was in your corner. She’ll actually raise her voice and scold anyone who's being a difficult patient! And if someone is feeling even a little off, she’ll push them toward you. Karen teases her for having a crush, but that’s not it at all! She’s just grateful! Of course, this has all inspired her to start writing a romance about a soldier and a nurse he meets, so now you’ll catch her staring and furiously scribbling notes.

KAREN JONES

Karen is a regular visitor because she ain’t about to deal with cramps or a cold if she can help it. She dislikes being slowed down because of her own body, and you’ve also assisted with some morning-after medicine and never told the camp or judged her for it. She respects you, but still likes to tease you about your “bookish” tendencies. She insists you need to stop fussing over everyone and do something for yourself. “Let them boys fend for themselves! Give ‘em a bottle of whiskey an’ a needle, they’ll figure it out.”

Karen doesn’t have patience or steady hands, so she doesn’t help directly with surgery, but she’ll clean up the mess afterward. A little-known fact is she’s the one who's responsible for the tidy way your medicine cart is laid out. It’s like organizing bottles of perfume and make-up, she says, so you can find things much easier now. She knows your teas and medicines work well, but she hates the taste, so she’ll add a shot of whiskey or a dollop of honey to help it go down.

FLACO HERNANDEZ

He’s always looked after himself, as his many scars can attest. He can get the job done, more or less, and he’s dug out a few bullets from himself and others. That’s less of a problem nowadays, considering his remote location, and few things get past his thick coat. Still, Flaco admires your skills. He hasn’t gotten to see you in action too much, but you’ve talked about people you’ve helped and the gang you tend to. He likes this caring, cautious nature of your’s.

You couldn’t believe he didn’t even have bandages in his little cabin, so you put together a little box filled with bandages, ointments and medicines you’ve made yourself. Flaco tries to put on his usual gruff front, telling you not to bother with things like that, but he’s so touched. It takes him way back, reminding him of his mother and grandmother, both respected curanderas. He hasn’t thought of that in a long time. Anytime you brew something for him to help with aches or sleeping, he’ll drink it with a raspy laugh.

MR. HORLEY

Well it's a good thing you have this skill, he thinks, because the lord knows you and your gang get into all sorts of trouble. Anytime Mr. Horley sees neat little stitches on you or your friends, he figures it's your work, and they heal well afterward. He never gets himself hurt, so he hasn't had a chance to see you work, but you'll still offer him some tea leaves you grew. At first he took it to be polite, but he and Mrs. LeClerk actually enjoyed it a lot. Jessica sends him to get more tea and medicine from you, half because she prefers your recipes, half because she wants you both to chat more.

At some point Mrs. LeClerk had need of your skills, so he employed you to discreetly patch up some of her associates. That’s when he got to see you work, and he gave you several genuine compliments you didn’t expect. They were in his usual serious voice, but he meant it. He keeps his eyes and ears out for work you can do, just in case you drop by that day.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #john marston x reader #dutch van der linde x reader #hosea matthews x reader #sadie adler x reader #micah bell x reader #charles smith x reader #bill williamson x reader #javier escuella x reader #sean macguire x reader #lenny summers x reader #kieran duffy x reader #tilly jackson x reader #mary-beth gaskill x reader #karen jones x reader #flaco hernandez x reader #mr horley x reader

731 notes · View notes

rodeo-boots · 4 years ago

Note

omg u opened ur requests!!! may i please get some flaco x reader smut? any gender for the reader :^) thank you <3

it's been an absolute pleasure to write for Flaco, and I hope you'll enjoy it!! I picked a gender-neutral reader for this one :')

Rating: Explicit

Words: 1844

AO3

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Snowflakes whirled behind you as the heavy door to the cabin fell closed, your eyes needing a couple blinks until they had fully adjusted to the darkness within. You released a deep breath, one you hadn't noticed you've held in the first place, dropping the bag with the take to the floor.

"Back already?" The voice permeated through the shadows, a deep tenor that had your little hairs stand on edge. Flaco hadn't moved from his spot, huddled in the corner of his cabin, tucked away where the worst of the wind wouldn't reach him. His hat hid his eyes well, the glass upon the table indicating what he'd been doing during your absence.

You pulled the gloves off your hands, stuffing them into the deep pockets of your coat. "Wasn't hard," you answered, remembering the fright in the traveler's eyes, their readiness to give you all they had at the point of your gun. It left you feeling on clouds, the rush of adrenaline still buzzing beneath your skin.

And maybe you had ridden a little harder than needed. Maybe the prospect of seeing Flaco as soon as possible had driven you more than you cared to admit.

The man stood, floorboards creaking under his heavy boots as he moved closer, picking the bag off the ground to inspect the valuables within. He whistled, weighing his head in a satisfied fashion. "You've done well." His praise got to you as it always did, made the exhaustion and strain dissipate right off your shoulders. After a job done well, there was nothing else you needed than some validation, and Flaco had always been one to supply.

"What're you thinkin' about?" He had caught onto your silence, reaching for your chin to tilt it upwards, dark eyes meeting your own. The bag in his hands seemed forgotten, carelessly dropped again while the contents within clanked and jingled.

Your lips quirked up into a sly smile, the apples of your cheeks cold like your nose. "I'm thinking 'bout my reward," you answered, your hands easily finding their way to his upper arms, fingers digging into the thickness of his coat. He knew how to dress accordingly, seemingly never running into trouble to stay warm – though this man was a furnace all by himself.

His warm breath hit your face, your eyes fluttering shut in expectancy of a kiss. The next gust of hot air left him as a chuckle, however, Flaco reaching up to take the hat off your head and place it aside. "All in due time," he muttered, removing his own next to join yours.

You would never complain about sharing a drink and a talk, about basking in the company of the older gunslinger. He was more to you than a source of income, than a partner in crime. His tips were helpful, sure, but even if he didn't have a job for you, you'd still seek him out at the end of the day. Because no matter what you gave him, the attention and companionship you were more than happy to offer, he would always return it tenfold.

Up here, you were his alone, and you would always know to cherish that.

Teasing never lasted long between you, Flaco being as unwilling to waste his time as you were, straight-forward in more ways than one. Where you had made the first step initially, he preferred taking the lead from there-on out, but who were you to complain?

"That's it." He hadn't waited long after denying your first kiss, had crowded you back against the wall to work on your coat, your own hands mirroring the actions of his. His lips were on your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive and cool skin, your breath hitching when he sucked down over your pulse.

The whiskey on his breath was undeniable, but it was just another part of him, another addition to the intoxication man you couldn't get enough of.

You wanted to touch him, pushing at the heavy coat around his shoulders, fingertips raking up the nape of his neck to slip into his hair. There were too many possible places for your hands to be, a small frustrated noise slipping past your lips when you couldn't feel everything all at once.

Flaco tossed his coat to the floor eventually, not minding the dust and the dirt you had dragged inside, the snow now molten and leaving muddy puddles behind. It all didn't matter to him, nor did it to you, both your minds entirely encaptured with the press of one pair of lips against another, Flaco finally giving you what you'd yearned for ever since stepping into the cabin.

"Let's move this to the bed," you muttered, hands lowering to work on the man's belt, impatiently pulling the leather from it's loops. You palmed him through his trousers, got a good grip on him just to squeeze, sighing at the familiar weight of his heavy cock behind the fabric.

He bit back a curse, muffled his voice in the crook of your neck. By the time you had freed his cock, he was getting ready to speak again. "Why should we?" He asked low and deep, kissing the magical spot behind your ear before briefly nibbling on your earlobe. "If I can take you right here?"

That sent a shiver down your spine, the excitement within you welling up and doubling in intensity, your nod too quick and needy to be brushed off. "Please–" But you didn't get farther than that, Flaco's lips returning to your neck as his fingers slipped under your shirt, warm palms roaming cool skin, eliciting goosebumps and a soft moan from your throat.

He caressed you like you were some treasure, leaving not an inch of skin untouched as he gave your body all the attention it could ever need. While you had loosely stroked his cock all this time, he only gradually began to open your pants now, encouraging you to step out of the fabric before pressing you back against the wall.

You whimpered when your tender skin met the cold air, your arousal bared for Flaco to see. There was no shame in it, however, not when the man in front of you looked like he was ready to consume you entirely.

"Wrap your legs 'round me," he directed, still clad with only his flushed cock on display, standing proud and erected while droplets of pre-cum already rolled off the tip. He held onto you, lifting you in time with your legs finding their designated spot. "Good?" Flaco searched your face for signs of discomfort, humming at the nod of your head.

His fingers dipped low, finding their target right away as he focused on your sex, giving you a taste of the pleasure he would soon allow you to feel. You gasped at the first touch, hips inching closer to his hand, no matter how much you were locked in place by the position.

"C'mon," the tone of your voice was more of a plea than a demand, every part of you aching for more – for everything Flaco would give you. "N-Need you inside," you muttered, your head lolling back at his continuous but slow caress, of the stimulation that barely fell short of being enough.

He hummed again, leaning in to soothe you with a kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth to distract you from the finger entering you. "F-Fuck-" your walls clenched around the intrusion, slowly relaxing when Flaco started to work you open. He added one more finger and another, preparing you thoroughly for what was to come, the sensation of his hard cock against your skin reminding you just how dearly you needed to be stretched beforehand.

You whined when his fingers grazed the tender spot inside of you, instantaneously canting your hips to chase that delightful pressure. But Flaco didn't want you to come without him, pulling his fingers out to replace them with his cock, pushing in steadily to let you adjust to his size.

"Doin' so well," he grunted, resting his forehead against your own when he bottomed out, holding onto the back of your thighs with his balls pressing against your sensitive skin.

He breathed deeply, getting used to the heat and tightness of your walls, gyrating his hips experimentally to watch your response. When all you showed him was unbridled pleasure and need, however, he knew that he had no more reason to hold back.

Your back dug into the wall behind yourself, hands clutching Flaco's shoulders for dear life, holding on as he started to move his hips. He didn't start out slow, didn't build up any more than he already had, his cock dragging out only to be pushed back inside, balls smacking against your skin the more he repeated the action.

The breath was knocked from your lungs just like that, the man's cock hitting all the right spots inside of you, filling you in the exact way you needed. You couldn't hold back the noises from your throat, couldn't withhold anything as you tossed your head back again, eyes fluttering from the sudden rush of pleasure.

Flaco wasn't one to be overly vocal, none to scream his lust into the world for all to hear. But right now, he seemed as lost in his ardor as you were, grunting and groaning, staring at your face to miss none of the expressions that passed over it. "Eyes on me," he demanded, momentarily slowing to reach up and tilt your chin to him, locking your gazes as he continued to fuck you.

You didn't feel cold any longer, didn't feel much else than his cock moving inside of you, the rocking motions that pressed you closer to the wall with each passing moment. The pleasure had built within you all this time, first at the anticipation and now the pay-off, your head spinning while you inched closer and closer to the edge.

Flaco caught on to your impending fulfillment, dutifully reaching down between your legs to stroke you to completion, his fingers dancing over you with practiced ease. "Go on, I'll follow" he buried his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his own sounds of enjoyment, the vibrations of his voice driving you off the wall and into your orgasm.

You came with a sharp moan of Flaco's name, the taste of it still upon your tongue as your pulsing walls made him lose himself inside of you. His hips gave a couple more jerks, breathless curses filtering through to your clouded brain. He still held you in his arms, only slowly letting go of your legs to let you place them on the ground again.

His spent dripped down your thighs after his softening cock had left you, your muscles trembling but pleasantly warm.

"Now, we can move to the bed," he spoke up, his voice a little hoarse and rough, but you loved it either way. After all, you couldn't get enough of everything this infamous gunslinger was.

#Requests #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #flaco hernández #flaco hernandez x reader #reader insert #nsft #nsft fanfic #mallr4ts

70 notes · View notes

funkwhistle · 4 years ago

Text

Home with you

Pairing: Flaco Hernandez x GN!Reader

Warnings: none, all fluff again

Summary: You hadn’t seen Flaco in ages, so decided to pay him a visit.

The cold wind bit at your exposed hands as you swung yourself off your horse, landing in a patch of snow you'd anticipated to be shallower. Cursing a little at the fact there was now snow in your shoes, you walk towards the cabin - massaging the blood into your fingers.

It had been a long while since you'd ridden up this far again, spending most of your time in the warmer climates of New Austin, enjoying the sand everywhere and the definitive lack of hypothermia. But Flaco wasn't so keen on the south, said the heat got to his head but everyone knew it was because he was terrified of snakes. Nevertheless, here you were, visiting him and freezing your extremities off; your horse wasn't happy either - he was tossing his head unhappily in protest.

Stomping your boots on the step by the cabin, you knocked tentatively, this was an impromptu visit and you'd just hoped he'd be home. Night had begun to wrap it's cloak over the sky, and the stars shone much brighter than you could remember them doing at home. You turned around, glancing across the lake which was creaking a little as the temperature dropped, never in all the years you'd been here had you seen it melt. Snow had settled across it over the day, blending it with the forest floor for the unwary traveller who dared to venture this far north.

“Are you coming in then?” he asked grumpily, and you now realised the door was ajar.

Stepping into the cabin, you found he had a small fire going in the grate and several bottles were strewn on the floor around where he'd been sat. Noticing you were shivering, Flaco shepherded you over towards the fireside, wrapping his arms around your midriff; “Wasn't expecting to see you tonight cariño?”

“I missed seeing you,” you said, craning your neck so you could catch a glimpse of his reaction. Instead of saying anything however, he just pulled you tighter to him, sitting you on his lap in his chair, running one of his hands through your knotted hair and the other holding you close over him.

“You need to take more care of yourself,” he observed, moving so you were sitting between his legs on the floor, so he could gently untangle your hair which had matted itself on the ride up. You winced a little at his actions, although did not object; the fire was hot now and warming you nicely. Once Flaco felt as though your hair was tamed enough, he moved so his hands were gentle as they kneaded your shoulders, making you squirm as he pushed at the knots in your back.

The pair of you sat there for a while, you opened a beer from the crate under the chair and you were passing it between the two of you; Flaco massaging your shoulders whenever he remembered. But for the most part, you both stared into the fire, thinking of simpler memories of the two of you, of those years when he was the fastest draw this side of Rhodes. Neither of you needed to say anything to each other, sitting in comfortable silence and listening to the gale outside.

“Is your horse in the hut?” Flaco murmured, stirring you from your daze, you nodded, bringing the bottle to your lips, finishing the remains of it as you stared at the glowing embers on the fire. He hummed in response, before sighing deeply and moving to stand up, pulling you up with him. You dropped the bottle on the floor, entwining your hands together as you stood together, finding comfort in the other's arms.

“Flaco, why don't you ever come south?” he huffed, annoyed, pulling away from you to prod at the fire a little, neglecting to answer your question. “I mean, even down to Strawberry, I don't know how you live up here, all cold,” you continued, ignoring the fact he wasn't listening. Flaco didn't respond, but angrily threw another log on the fire and stood up, looking down at you with a scowl.

“I am a wanted man, even in Strawberry,” he huffed slightly after he spoke, taking pity on you, his scowl softening as he took in you tired eyes and rosy cheeks. As though you were made of glass, he pulled you towards him, pressing his lips to your forehead comfortingly as you lay your head against his chest.

“I'm sorry love,” Flaco moved so he could see your face in the dimly lit cabin, cupping your cheek and moving his thumb over your lip as the corners of his mouth crinkled into a smile. “Maybe one day,” you looked up at him, hiding the sinking feeling you knew was inevitable when you asked him, of course he couldn't go south with a bounty like that on his head, he'd be taken in the second he crossed Mount Hagen.

You mumbled an apology, moving closer so you could brush your lips on his cheek, afraid he was angry about you asking. As you did so, Flaco moved away from you, making you concerned you'd done something wrong but his face was beaming with a devilish grin.

“You didn't think you could give old Flaco a kiss huh?” he laughed a little at his own comment, pulling you so your lips crashed onto one anothers, making you laugh a little as your teeth clashed from the force at which he'd kissed you. In response, Flaco only pulled you closer to him, his hands moving from your face to your lower back as he deepened the kiss.

It had been years since you’d felt like this, as though you were floating as he moved against you, pressing kisses onto your jaw before returning to your lips. Sighing into the kiss, you shifted so you could pull his hat off, running your hands through his short locks, making him groan and press himself against you.

“Flaco-” you broke the kiss upon feeling his hands grabbing your ass, much to the both of your disappointment, to look into his dark eyes. “I'm too tired tonight,” he nodded, although the tent in his jeans told a slightly different story, and it made you grin as you led him to the bed in the corner of his cabin.

Once you were settled under the several furs, Flaco pulled you closer to him so he could nestle his nose in the crook of your neck, his breath fluttering over your pulse, making your stomach turn circles like a teenager again. You moved back, pressing against him to retain some warmth between you both as you heard him sigh deeply.

Even though you were about as far from your home as you could be, you had found home in this grumpy gunslinger, and, for now, that was enough.

A/N: This is the piece I deleted, so the ending changed abit, idk tbh - but I’m happy we got Flaco fluff :) - A very happy birthday to @mallr4ts !

#flaco hernandez x reader #flaco hernández #reader insert #red dead redemption imagine #red dead redemption 2 #red dead #rdr2 #hosea mathews #dutch van der linde #arthur morgan #sadie adler #fluff #bill williamson #micah bell #javier escuella #lenny summers #charles #susan grimshaw

120 notes · View notes