#i forget her name ngl | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

julymusings · 1 month ago

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you're good to me, baby

with the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet, like the ashes of ash i saw rise in the heat. settle soft and as pure as snow, i fell in love with the fire long ago.

or; because the red hood bleeding onto your living room carpet is exactly what you need right now [3.6k]

Jason Todd x fem!reader; based on this lovely ask; ngl this turned into a personal vent jason doesn't show up until 1k words in LMAO; warning there’s blood (duh) and reader is suggested to have heavy anxiety; pre-established relationship where reader doesn’t know his identity + muzzle red hood bc HOT

Compartmentalize. Create baskets in your mind. Analyze the situation, and drop the corresponding emotion in the appropriate basket.

One: You had a fight with your best friend. She called you selfish because you weren’t enthusiastic about her new relationship. She just can’t seem to understand that no matter how happy you want to be for her, it’s painful to see everyone find safety in another person when you can’t. Every attempt at romance is squashed by something or the other that you keep doing wrong. I thought you were hot, your latest dating attempt had said when you ran into him and asked why he never texted back. But you’re kind of a lot. Not something I have the space for right now, you know?

Two: There’s an important presentation today, one that could determine the fate of your position in the company. Your coworker, the one who’s convinced you stole his promotion (he just flirted with the higher-ups while you actually completed the requirements), refuses to let you forget how much is at stake. All it takes is one misstep, one stutter, one hesitation, and he will take it as an excuse to demand your demotion— or worse, termination. You’ve been preparing for this presentation for three weeks. If after all that effort it’s still not good enough, maybe you should be fired.

The emotions here? Frustration. Anger. Exhaustion. Jealousy. Just to name a few. But there’s no time to dwell on anxieties right now, so you shove those thoughts aside. Drop them in their compartments and move on because, after all, if you can strip them down to their bones and find where they stem, you can yank those anxieties from the ground before they have the chance to root. And then there’s no need for unnecessary heartache, right?

(Who cares if the baskets are overflowing, crumpled fragments spilling over the sides like garbage in a landfill? Who cares if the room of your mind is so packed that you’re pressed against the wall and breathing becomes painful.)

The digital clock beside your bed reads 6:12. The numbers blink in and out of the window, their red dots and dashes taunting your heavy eyelids. You still have forty-eight minutes of peace before it will scare you awake. Its beeping will ring so loud and angry that the adrenaline from the startle will power you through your morning routine, and your beating heart won’t dare still to entertain wishes of just five more minutes. 6:13 now. You have forty-seven more minutes of peace, minutes which should be spent sleeping, giving your poor brain a break from itself. But you can’t. Every time you close your eyes and begin to sink below the level of consciousness, your heart pumps a house-special cocktail of cortisol that laces through your bloodstream and convinces you that if you fall asleep you will miss your presentation and you will get fired. The off-grid escape plan formulating in your head switches from hypothetical to tentative when your neighbors, apparently awoken to lust as well as tired by it, start going at it again. You want nothing more than to bang on their door and scream obscenities until they hate each other enough to never touch again, but you resign yourself to consciousness, giving up on the dream of what would now be forty-four more minutes of sleep.

It’s Friday morning; only one more day to get through before the sweet release of the weekend finds you. (The whole weekend will be spent contemplating the start of a project, feeling like two days is not nearly long enough to complete anything, and dreading Monday until it finds you with nothing done and the same, endless cycle awaiting.)

After completing your morning routine 44 minutes early, you use the spare time to go through your presentation once more, just for good luck, wrapping up the third run-through just in time to hear your alarm to leave for work.

The presentation goes decent, at least well enough to quell any doubts about your ability to do your job. Your coworker ate his words for sure, and you might have enjoyed the look on his face had you not mentally checked out as soon as you finished your closing remarks. Rush hour traffic has the ice cream tub you bought at the convenience store dripping condensation all over the passenger’s seat and your hips hurt from being in the same sitting position for most of the day, but you remind yourself that peace is only a few miles out. Stopped at yet another red light, your grip tightens on the steering wheel. Breathe in. Breathe out. The line of cars starts to move forward.

When you get home, your frustration is close to boiling over. You kick off your shoes right at the door, your keys and bag following close behind.

Far be it from you to break down on the floor in the middle of the room, the plan begins to formulate. There’s a box of tissues on your desk– that can go on the nightstand, along with two of the chilled water bottles you keep in the fridge for after you work out. And you’ll need something for the tissues, right? The small wastebasket from the bathroom should be fine. You drag it over to the side of your bed, sitting in your usual spot to make sure you placed it at a reachable distance. You won’t want to get out of bed to wash your face after this, so a washcloth should go next to the tissues. And an extra one, just to be safe.

You keep a set of comfortable clothes ready, the nicest, softest pajamas you own that you only wear after an everything shower. This shower, however, is a quick one, not much more than a few minutes under scalding water to comfort you, if nothing else. The light pink pajamas are a high-quality cotton and you feel like you’re in the clouds when you slip into them. Remaining is the ice cream, which you set out on the counter right before your shower so it would thaw just enough to be soft but not melted, With everything in your room ready, you go to retrieve the ice cream but stop with a startle when you round the corner.

“Jesus,” you mumble.

He’s just sitting there, doing nothing except bleeding out on your cream-colored carpet. He’s spread out on the couch like he owns the place, head leaned back against the wall as he lets his injured arm hang over the armrest and drip blood and dirt onto your cream-colored rug. The liquid seeps into the expensive wool, staining it with reddish-brown hues and the scent of iron, and he doesn’t even notice.

“Hey.” The Red Hood lifts his head when he sees you.

On any other day, you’d be quick to action, hauling him up off the couch and sprinting for the first aid kit under the bathroom sink. Today, your arms are too heavy and your gaze remains rooted on the widening splotch of red against white. Your throat feels dry. “You’re getting blood on the carpet.”

He peers over the armrest. “Oh, shit,” he curses, lifting his arm to hover it over his lap. He sounds robotic through his muzzle mask. His hood, pulled down to reveal his thick black hair curling at the ends from humidity and sweat, rests on his back.

I don’t have time for this, is what you want to say. You want to scream it in his face and kick him out for having the audacity to think he can come and go as he pleases, that you’re nothing more than a drive-through emergency room who will drop everything if he gets so much as a paper cut. But you can’t say any of this, and you do want him to come to you whenever he needs help. God knows he won’t go anywhere else.

Holding back your heavy sigh, you wordlessly walk to the bathroom. He takes that as an invitation to follow.

It’s clinical. Rehearsed. Neither of you speak. It’s a partnered dance long since committed to muscle memory, steps you can take in your sleep. He knows to seat himself on the step stool you got just for him, for nights like these. He knows where to find the first aid kit and which supplies to hand you first. You know the exact steps to follow. Check the palms for abrasions. Antiseptic to the lacerations. Concussion exam.

Maybe he can sense the air of tension surrounding you, because he doesn’t say as much as he usually does (though, granted, it’s still not much). It’s a reflection of your dynamic several months earlier when this arrangement began, back before you’d managed to chip away at the surface of his rough exterior. You notice the way his fingers curl against his thighs when you, somewhat carelessly, wipe the dirt from his skin with more pressure than necessary and the way his eyebrows tilt inward when you work slower than usual. You notice, but you ignore it.

We both know you have at least a dozen people who could do this for you. The words echo in your mind. Don’t act like I owe you this. If anything, you owe me a new carpet. These are things you wish you could say, but never will. Being realistic, you’ll probably never be able to say things like this. You’ll be subjected to all the shitty coworkers and unsympathetic friends and exploitative vigilantes of the world for the rest of your life.

This isn’t his fault, you remind yourself, but still, your lips turn down and your jaw feels tight with the effort to keep your face still, to not burst into tears right on the spot. In the second it takes for you to calm yourself, your hands pause. He notices. He says nothing.

It’s not until you’re finished with cleaning the blood from his arm wound and giving him a wad of gauze to hold against it that he tests the waters and asks, “Is it too bad?”

He sounds automated, but over the last few months, you’ve learned a thing or two about reading even these robotic actions. There's a certain quietness to the beginning of his sentence like he’s debating if he should say it or not.

“It’s fine,” you say, shortly.

“Sorry about your rug,” he says. He tugs at the strap of his muzzle with one finger, rubbing at the skin underneath the leather. “I can get the stain out.”

You retrieve the needle and thread from the kit and don’t respond. You don’t even look at him.

After a moment’s hesitation, he continues. “It’s easy. You just need salt and—”

“Okay.”

He goes quiet.

You don’t mean to be so tetchy, but you don’t have the energy for anything more. Every little thing has you feeling on the edge of shattering. It’s too much. It’s all too much.

It’s when you’re kneeled at his side, staring into the gaping wound on his bicep and trying to thread the needle, fingers trembling from the chill of the tiled floor with nothing but a layer of thin cotton to keep you warm, that it happens. He shifts on the stool, a mere twitch in an attempt to get comfortable, but it brushes his bloody arm against yours. Flecks of fresh red on the light pink fabric. First your carpet, now your pajamas. Your favorite, special, extra soft matching cotton pajama set, a rare splurge after your promotion that stood out among old t-shirts and sweat shorts. Ruined. Again, he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Did I say something?” Hood asks. He waits for your response, but when none comes, he adds, “I’m sorry if I did.” He speaks so quietly you may not have been able to separate his words from the whirring filter of his mask, if not for the chilling silence of the bathroom floor. The insulating brick walls of your old apartment building are something you’re usually grateful for, but tonight you find yourself wishing for the city’s commotion to seep through the walls. Something, anything to buffer his proximity to you.

You hear his inhale as he prepares to say something else.

“Can you just let me work?” You snap before he has the chance to speak again. It’s loud, louder than you’d ever dream of speaking to him, and he flinches. Your eyes shut in apology, but only for a moment before you get back to it. He looks away. His feet point towards the door.

He wants to leave, you can tell, and you don’t blame him. You just messed everything up. But you started this, so now you have to finish it.

You sit in silence for the several minutes it takes for you to clean his wound and stop the bleeding.

He’s not looking at you, gaze transfixed ahead of him on a chip in the paint. At least, you assume. It’s difficult to guess what’s going on behind the milky white covering over his eyes. His subtle body language can be read if you pay close enough attention, you’ve learned, but that’s not something you care to do right now.

(Maybe you noticed in the back of your mind that he’s not exhibiting any body language since you snapped at him, but the compartment in your head for guilt is already overflowing, so maybe you didn’t notice it, you tell yourself.)

You stare at your sleeve, at the patches of blood blooming like ink blots. The red and pink hues blend together behind your blurring vision. You sniffle.

“Are you—” Hood starts. Because now he’s looking at you.

“Excuse me,” you say, pushing yourself off the ground and stumbling out of the room without so much as a glance back at him. You stagger into your room, needle and thread still in hand, and push the door closed. The lights are off, and the darkness is calming, quieting your buzzing thoughts. You close your eyes and lean against the door. Breathe in. Breathe out. You continue this exercise, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth to soothe your sympathetic nervous system, the same way a therapist instructed that one time you went. You wipe away the moisture that has collected in your eyes, roll out your stiff neck, dry your sweaty palms over your thighs. You toss the needle and thread aside, because they are definitely not sterile anymore, and take a few more breaths before opening the door and going back to the bathroom.

You avoid his face, following the lines of grimy grout between the tiles before resuming to your spot at his side. His inspecting eyes burn on the side of your face. You wipe down the forceps with a sterilizing wipe and rip open the plastic packaging for a new needle, holding it up to the wound, but your hand refuses to steady.

Another deep breath. Then another.

Hood sighs. It’s almost chastising. “I think I should go.”

“What?” You’re just surprised enough to be torn away from your thoughts and look him in the eye (mask) for the first time all night.

“You can’t do this,” he says, gruffly. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll let you figure it out.”

You scoff. “Yes, I can. I’m fine.”

Before he can argue, you grab him by the wrist to hold him in place just as he starts moving to get up. He winces, but you keep your grip tight on him. You can feel his scrutiny through the cold, expressionless barrier of his disguise, practically track his pupils as they search your face.

You both pretend he couldn’t break from your hold in an instant if he wanted to.

“You’re shaking,” Hood says. His voice is much softer now.

You follow the turn of his head to your hand where it hovers the needle right over his skin. You are shaking. Trembling, in fact.

“No, I’m not.” It comes out as an empty whisper.

You focus all your strength on steadying yourself, but the harder you try to stabilize, the harder you tremor. Your other hand releases his wrist to clamp over your dominant hand and force it to stay in place. It guides the needle closer to the skin, but now your vision is blurring. You blink rapidly, but it’s not enough. The tears start falling. You look away from him, but a warm hand settles over yours. You don’t dare look at him, unable to bear showing him your shameful face, wet and blushing and screwed up in misery. You turn your face into your sleeve. Clamp your eyes shut tight, thinking maybe if you keep them closed, this darkness will swallow you up and he won’t be here anymore.

But the warmth of his skin on yours is the first feeling of softness, of relief you’ve felt in months, and then it’s gone. Your shoulders are shaking, quaking with the effort to keep your sobs quiet.

One finger ever so gently hooks around your chin, pulling it back up to face him. You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to see him see you like this, but the tears are still streaming. He brushes them away. Whether that makes it better or worse, you can’t be sure, because you cry even harder, snatching your face away from his grasp to muffle your sobs into the back of your hand. You don’t realize he’s pushed himself off his stool to sit cross-legged on the floor until you feel his hand circling your arm and pulling you closer. The tools in your hand clatter on the floor as your palms come up to press against his chest, fighting against him with half-hearted protests murmured through your cries. But even with only one good arm he’s too strong for you, and you’re pulled into him.

He’s so gentle with you, rubbing your back and resting his chin atop your head while you cry and cry and cry into his shirt. Several minutes pass like this, with your face buried in his chest and his good arm holding you tightly against him while the other dangles lamely at his side, throbbing with an intensity he’s trying to ignore.

When your sobs die down, and you’re sure you’re all cried out, you linger against him. He smells like smoke and gasoline, and his shirt is soft and warm from his body heat seeping through. His hand continues to stroke up and down the length of your back, even after you’ve quieted. The edge of his mask digs into your scalp where his chin sits, but it feels worth it. Your hands, still pressed to his chest, slide higher, completely of their own volition, out of a newfound desire to wrap your arms around his neck. You don’t hear it, but you can feel his sharp draw of breath, his chest rising quickly under your touch. Your hands lose their nerve at his clavicle as you hold your breath for fear of the smallest movement drawing attention to your forwardness. You wait for him to rebuff you, to lean away from your touch, or grab your wrists and pry them off. He doesn’t.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. His chest finally falls.

Eyes opening, your thumb swipes over the edge of the red bat symbol just below his collarbone.

His movements pause, lightly gripping the fabric of your shirt for just a moment, before releasing it. “It’s alright,” he tells you.

You pull back from his chest to look at him, the way his cold and unfeeling expression stares back at you. You wonder from time to time what’s under the mask, but tonight the desire is overwhelming; you ache with the want to know what he looks like. The color of his eyes. What his mouth looks like when he winces over a deep cut or chuckles at one of your anecdotes. You wonder if his lips are soft or chapped. If he’d like it if you dragged your thumb across the bottom one.

The metallic odor spreading through the room brings you back to the present, and you hope the flush from your tears hides your cheeks’ growing heat when you realize where your mind had wandered.

“Oh, fuck, your arm.” You speak in a watery voice, wiping at your face as the urgency returns to your senses. Though you try to move away, his firm hand on your back pulls you back in.

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” He says, resuming his caresses up and down your back. “I can take care of it.”

“Then why do you even need me?” You sniffle with a small smile.

He stays silent. But when you search his face, waiting for an answer, his hand moves to your side, palm sliding a fraction of an inch closer to your waist and fingers tensing, you can almost see through the mechanical muzzle to the way his lips shape the words. At least, he wishes you could.

You know why.

this was lots of fun to write and thank u for your patience ik i said i was gonna "knock this out in a day" 2 weeks ago😬😬 also we're gonna pretend they aren't just letting his open wound marinate for half an hour when it should be getting stitched up bc it's fiction ok? everyone say thank you mostly-imagines for proofreading this😚

but anyway happy new year!! it's been barely 2 months but starting this account made my year so much better🫶🫶🫶and ty for 500 followers that's crazy🫣🫢

listen to the inspo song!!!

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midnighvtm4ss · 28 days ago

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Oh you sweet, poisonous thing

summary: just Arthur yearning and being jealous of reader and Javier. Enjoy😽

pairing: arthur morgan x fem!reader

content: fluff, jealousy, a hint of angst maybe ?? idk

wc: 1,8k

a/n: *taps into the mic* heyy,,, how y’all doing *voice echoes, crickets can be heard in the distance* so i kinda disappeared from tumblr ik. I went through a rough period and I thought a lot about what to do with this account. I lost all motivation to write for a while ngl, but after some thinking i decided that no matter what I’ll keep writing and posting here. After all this was and still is my little safe space where i can just forget about my life and post silly things about cowboys sooo yeah have some Arthur yearning because we should bring back yearning in 2025. ok i yapped enough bah byee

The cracking sound of the campfire travels softly in the center of camp, casting long, flickering shadows that stretch and shift over the familiar faces of the gang, dancing on their features to the sound of the soft music leaving Javier’s guitar.

It had been a rare, uneventful day—the kind where, surprisingly, nothing went wrong, and the world seemed to hold its breath afraid to burst the serene and quiet bubble that engulfed all round the camp. The stillness settled over the gang’s members like a balm, soothing old wounds and lifting everyone’s spirits. By evening, an easy carefree air had taken root, boosted by a few shared drinks and Javier’s guitar.

You sit near the fire, sandwiched between Karen and John, the blonde slouched lazily at your side, her cheeks flushed from the too many whiskey glasses she downed. Javier is in a contagious good mood, sitting on the ground near John strumming another lively tune as he leans toward you, his bronze skin glowing in the campfire’s light and he’s grinning like at you like the charmer he is.

“Why don’t you sing with me, cariño,” he says, his voice playfully teasing. A chorus of groans and exaggerated complaints come from around the campfire, the gang all too eager to tease you about the first and fortunately the last time you sang around the campfire in Horseshoe Overlook after you had too many to drink. You remember waking up the morning after with a terrible headache and the sweet memory of laughter shared around the warmth of the campfire.

You laugh at their reaction, shaking your head. “I think I’ll save everyone’s ears this time, thank you.”

Javier chuckles and with that resumes playing, his voice low and smooth. His energy is infectious, pulling easy smiles and a few soft laughs from everyone. But in the back of your mind, you can feel that there’s a subtle shift in the air—a pull, a presence that tugs at your attention like a ping you can’t ignore. It’s faint at first, almost imperceptible, but it grows stronger, undeniable, familiar. You glance toward the edge of camp, and as suspected there he is.

He’s leaning against one of the wooden posts near the horses, half swallowed by the shadows, the dim firelight barely reaching the brim of his worn hat. His broad shoulders are hunched, arms crossed tightly over his chest like he’s trying to protect himself, to keep something away though you’re not sure he even knows what it is. His aqua eyes are sharp even in the shadows, and they’re fixed directly on you.

As the weight of his gaze settles over you like a heavy fog, thick and tangible, despite the distance between you, a shiver runs down your spine. Your chest tightens, as if the very air around him has thickened with unspoken things.

You’ve known him long enough to feel a quiet storm building in the depths of his quiet, unshakable composure. It’s not indifference nor anger. It’s something else—something raw and unspoken but you can’t, and maybe won’t, put a name on it.

When Javier nudges you playfully, you force yourself to focus back on him, offering him a smile that you hope conceals the tension swirling inside of you. Still, the weight of Arthur’s gaze doesn’t leave you, not even as the evening stretches on.

As the night deepens, the fire crackles low. One by one, people begin to drift off, leaving just you, Tilly, Lenny, Javier, and Karen around the fire. Tilly, who had joined your little circle a few hours earlier, is lively chatting with Lenny about some gossip she’d overheard in town, her voice bright with excitement seemingly unphased by the late hour. Meanwhile, Karen has fallen asleep with her head resting on your shoulder, undoubtedly drooling a bit on your blouse. This leaves you and Javier alone, the conversation between you two flowing easily, until he eventually sets his guitar aside with a stretch, breaking the comfortable atmosphere.

“Already going to bed ?” you tease, nudging him gently on the side. “Won’t you play me another song before you go to sleep ?”

He smirks, shaking his head with a wink.

“Tomorrow.” He promises winking at you. He stands up and disappears into the shadows of the night. After a few minutes Karen stirs awake, mumbling something about needing another drink before bed, lazily getting up on her feet, shuffling toward the camp’s supply.

After that it’s just you, Tilly and Lenny sitting near the dying fire. From your peripheral vision you can see the dark silhouette of Arthur sitting at the worn wooden round table under the tall tree in camp. You don’t look at him, not directly, but you feel his presence like a thread pulling between you. You sit there, looking at the fire contemplating if approaching him or calling it a night.

When you finally stand, your feet move before your mind can catch up with your actions. You carefully walk towards him, finding him hunched slightly over the table, his broad shoulders tense as he stares down into the nearly empty glass in his hand.

“Mind if I join you ?” you say pausing a few feet away. The sound of your voice softly filling the cold air around you both.

Arthur doesn’t immediately look up, his focus still fixed on the amber liquid swirling in his glass. You nearly contemplate leaving when after a long moment, he tips his head in a slow, deliberate nod. “Suit yourself.”

You take a seat across from him, your hands folding in your lap playing with a few loose threads as you settle into the quiet. For a long moment, neither of you speak. The noise of the evening has faded away, leaving the camp wrapped in the soft rustle of trees and the distant sound of crickets.

“Tired ?” you finally ask, your voice hesitant, breaking the silence.

Arthur huffs a low breath, his eyes never leaving the glass. “Long day,” he mutters, a simple response that tells you nothing.

You nod, though his answer feels like a wall, a quick, easy way to avoid revealing something deeper. There’s something bothering him, and maybe it’s the alcohol in your system or maybe you simply care too much for him but you’re determined to find out what.

“Javier kept everyone entertained tonight,” you say lightly, your words casual, trying to spark a conversation, though you’re watching him closely.

Arthur’s grip on his glass tightens just enough for his knuckles to go pale against the clear glass. “Yeah,” he replies, his tone flat. “He’s good at that.”

The space between you feels heavier now, filled with something unspoken, a tension that neither of you acknowledges directly. You lean back in your chair, letting the silence settle between you, but you can’t ignore the flicker of his eyes as they meet yours, then quickly shift away like he’s afraid of what might show if he stares at yours too long.

“What’re you drinking ?” you ask after a moment, breaking the quiet.

“Whiskey.”

“‘S that the good whiskey Pearson’s been hiding, or the usual watered down crap ?”

Arthur’s lips twitch, almost imperceptibly, clearly fighting a smile. “Usual crap,” he murmurs. “Pearson ain’t that generous.”

You laugh softly, the sound easing some of the tension that’s built between you. But still, it lingers, just beneath the surface, like something you both know but can’t put into words.

“You seemed quiet tonight,” you say after a pause, studying him closely.

Arthur shrugs, lifting his glass to his lips, the movement slow, as if every motion is carefully measured.

“Didn’t feel like talkin’.”

You watch him, your gaze tracing the line of his jaw, his wet lips and the way his fingers absently trace the rim of his glass. He’s not being completely honest—that much you know, but you’ve learned to read between the spaces of his words.

“Or maybe you just didn’t like the company,” you offer, your tone playful but with an edge to it.

Arthur’s eyes snap to yours, sharp and unmoving. “I didn’t say that,” he replies, his voice low, almost a growl.

He holds your gaze a beat longer than necessary, and you feel the weight of it settle deep in your chest, making your breath hitch. There’s something in his eyes, something raw, vulnerable that makes your heart stutter. You’re not sure if he sees how your composure falters, but he’s the first to look away, tipping his hat lower over his brow to shield his expression.

You’ve always hated when he does that—you’ve always hated the way he uses it to put a distance between you, but now more than ever you hate it because it feels like the wall between you is growing thicker and you’re not sure if you can get through anymore.

“You’re a hard man to figure out Arthur Morgan,” you say softly, the teasing edge gone from your voice. He doesn’t answer right away, and when he does, it’s in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe that’s for the best.”

You bite your lower lip in frustration but then you force yourself to swallow down your disappointment. The conversation shifts then, moving toward more trivial things like the weather, the horses, Pearson’s latest disaster with the stew. But even as you talk, you know that there’s another conversation happening in the spaces between words, in the glances you exchange, in both your body language, in the way the silence sometimes wraps itself around you both.

You don’t speak of it. You don’t name it. Neither of you can, but you know it’s there.

“Good night Arthur,” you say, your voice quieter than you intended. You give him a sweet smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, before you stand, the weight of your own tiredness forcing you to seek the sweet embrace of your bed.

He doesn’t reply right away, just gives a slow tip of his hat. “Night.”

As you start to take a few steps away from the table, you feel his gaze on your back—steady, unwavering. It feels like it’s burning into your skin.

You glance over your shoulder, just once, and meet his eyes. For a moment, they’re distant, almost lost, like he’s somewhere far away in thought. But as your gaze lingers, you catch something else, something in the way his eyes soften, the barely perceptible softening of his eyebrows. It’s not a look of anger or frustration that he gives you, no, he’s looking at you with something deeper, something raw.

It’s the kind of look that makes your chest tighten, a sweet warmth settling between your ribs. He doesn’t need to say anything, you can feel it in the glance between you—the weight of all the things neither of you will dare to speak aloud.

In that brief moment, you understand. And it’s enough to leave you walking away with butterflies storming in your stomach and the strange sense that you’ve just shared something deep, something fragile with him without ever needing to say a word.

#.rira’s posting ౨ৎ ⋆#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fic #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead fandom #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 arthur morgan

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luvyeni · 6 months ago

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HOT MESS ,, 이제노

pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ collegecrush!jeno x reader wc. 2.4k

genre. smut

🦢◞  includes ... oral ( fem receiving ), unprotected sex, praise kink , this is kinda angsty.

request. can u write a "campus crush" fic based on jeno's look at the airport please 🙏🩷

「 authors note 𖹭 」 ngl i didn't expect it to be so angsty but reader literally is me and my brain.

❪ masterlist! ❫

your brain was always on go; constantly it was like it never stopped, even when you would sleep it was like your brain wouldn't turn off— it was never ending, and becoming a college student; living on your own made it worse.

running into your class; the professors back was turned around so you snuck in , sitting down. “you're late again.” yoo jimin, your best friend; the complete opposite of you; she was constantly put together, it was like she had everything together. “i stayed up last night to study.” you whispered, huffing out pulling out your ipad, hair all over the place. “how did it go?” you stared at her stoically. “how do you think?” you said. “point taken.” she said.

“maybe you have like adhd or something.” karina walked next to you; watching you go through your messy planner. “because this can't be normal.” she said. “im sure the doctor has something to cure whatever this was.” you shrugged. “with my luck i would probably be too busy and forget to take it.” she laughed. “probably, you're just a hot mess and that's okay, i still love you anyway.” she wrapped her arms around you, calming you. “messy hair and disheveled clothes that i'm pretty sure you had on yesterday and all.”

jeno on the the hand; he seemed to have his life together— he never came to school looking crazy; even after a night out in which he was black out drunk with his group of friends, he'd turn up the next day, showered, shaven and ready to go on with his date. “it almost scary why aren't you hungover.”

haechan groaned, his head down low. “you out drunk me yesterday; jaemin left you in your dorm unable to pick yourself off the floor.” jeno smugly shrugged, his hair black hair was neatly styled, his outfit that he picked that morning neat on his body.. “i feel fine, maybe you should lay off the alcohol.” the boy would've lunged at the boy if he didn't feel like his head was gonna explode. “haechan look you and yn both look like you had a good time last night.”

jeno turned hearing your name, a small smile on his lips, one no one couldn't unless they were looking really close. “fuck off jaemin.” you huffed sitting down. “except yn looks like that all the time.” haechan said, yelling as you began bang on the metal table. “how's that headache? huh you asshole.” jeno held his hand out , stopping you. “you'll hurt yourself.”

he moved his hand away from you; that didn't really help your rapidly beating heart. along with the stress of school and your everyday life; jeno lee was another thing that raced throughout your already cluttered mind; he sometimes was the only thing that could calm your messy mind— not like he noticed or anything.

“she’ll hurt herself— she hurt me!” haechan cried out. “my head.” holding his head in his hands. “jimin hold me.” you all watched karina fight the whining boy off, you laughter making jeno smile slightly, only stopping when jaemin caught him; wiggling his eyebrows at the boy, jaemin was the only one who knew about his crush on the girl.

“you should ask her out.” jaemin said one day out of the blue. “yn, you should ask her out.” jeno was shocked; he thought he did a good job hiding his infatuation with you. “haechan isn't all the way there and renjun could care less, so of course they don't notice, but bro i'm your best friend , and i can tell , and you don't really hide , you literally write the notes down so she can study.” ever since that day, jaemin never let him live it down.

“yn you have a class soon.” jeno turned to you as you looked down at your phone. “oh yeah i better go.” you shot up. “my professor is gonna kill me if im late again.” you collected your things. “jeno don't you have this class too?” renjun asked, he nodded; calmly getting up, saying goodbye to everyone, before walking away; but walking slowly so you'd be able to catch up to him.

you both made it to the class, you found your seat in the back; jeno took a seat in the front like always, occasionally looking back to check on you— he felt bad, watching you stress out all the time, you could never seem to get anything right in your eyes; but in his eyes you were perfect.

“yn.” your professor stopped you as you were leaving out the door. “yes?” you stopped. “your research paper.” she started. “is there something wrong with it?” you sighed, she didn't have to say anything, but you knew. “listen what if i give you an extra day or two, go over it; read my notes and try again.” she said, you nodded. “thank you ma'am.” you turned walking out of the class, where jeno was waiting. “oh jeno you're still here?”

while waiting for you, jeno overheard your conversation with the professor. “yeah, everything okay?” you nodded. “just need to go home and get my head together so i can get this essay right this time.” he walked silently next to you, before he spoke up. “i can help you.” he said. “go over the essay with you.”

“y-you don't have to, it's all word vomit i don't want to put you through that.” he waved you off. “i don't mind it.” you were about to reject him again when he grabbed your arm, stopping you. “let me help you.” your eyes widened at the sudden touch. “sorry.” he said, removing his hand. “it-its okay.” you said, heart racing. “i can come over to your apartment and go over it with you.” he said. “and it won't be a problem?” he shook your head. “you'll never be a problem, okay?” you nodded. “o-okay.”

“come on let's go.”

it had been so long since you had anyone over besides karina and she was used to your madness; but it had been even longer since you had a cute guy over, and you weren't really planning on having one over— otherwise you would have cleaned your room. “it's a little messy.”

“it's okay, it's just clothes.” he smiled watching you frantically pick up the clothes, shoving them in your closet. “sit.” you pointed to your bed. “please, make yourself comfortable.” you said. “um …” you turned to jeno, your face losing all color— he was holding your bra in his hand. “did you forget something?”

you practically lunged at the boy to grab the item, throwing it into your closet. “let's get started.” you said; he smiled watching you go through your bag to pull out your laptop. “here.” you opened it, pulling up the essay. he took the laptop from your hands, your fingertips touching. “let's see, it can't be that bad.”

it was bad; but jeno didn't let you know that— well he tried. “um, okay.” he said, you frowned. “it's bad isn't it?” he sighed, reading through the essay, looking at you; your eyes were desperate. “i can help you fix it.” he said, you sighed. “it's useless.” taking away the laptop. “if only i can get my brain to stop just for a second , my essays won't be so shit.”

you hated this; your brain wouldn't stop, it was overwhelming. “hey.” jeno called your name, you bit at your nails in stress. “hey.” he stopped you, holding your hands down. “calm down , i told you i'll help you wouldn't i?” he said. “i’ve seen worse essays trust me, jaemin will plagiarize if i let him.” he laughed. “i can help you fix this, but you have to calm down first.” your eyes traveled to where your hands met. “you're so cute but you're a hot mess.”

“me-me? cute.” he chuckled; but you were freaking out inside and out, he shook his head, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge. “let's finish this okay?” you nodded. “o-okay.”

after going over the mess of a essay; reading the notes the teacher gave you and jeno talking you through it; you finally put together an essay that was at least readable and would satisfy your professor. “thank you so much jeno, you saved my life.” you smiled. “it was all you, you'll do good if you just turn that pretty little head off and learn to breathe.”

“that's easy for you to say, your life is so put together.” you said. “i can barely get out of bed on time, it's like you said im a hot mess.”

“you don't want to hear my problems.” you said. “the essay is done and you probably have things to do, you can … mph” before you could get the rest out; jenos lips were on yours in feverish kiss, pulling away to give you enough air before his lips were on yours again.

he pulled away again, ready to kiss you again, but you held his chest signaling him to stop immediately. “did i make you uncomfortable?” he said. “no-no.” you said flustered. “just, it happened so fast, and now my head and my heart is racing.” you were rambling on and on and it made jeno want to kiss you again, you were so cute. “then just turn that pretty head off and let me help you.” he looked at you with so much want in his eyes. “okay?”

you nodded, he held the side of your face, pulling you into another kiss; his lips swiping across your bottom lip, sticking his tongue in your mouth , his grip on your waist, lifting your shirt. “lifting your arms for me pretty.” he took your shirt off , throwing it to the floor. “he-hey just because i use my floor as a hamper doesn't mean you do.”

he laughed, “i'll be sure to fold your clothes neatly the next time i fuck you.” he pulled your pants down, leaving you in your mismatched bra and panties. “baby you really are a hot mess aren't you.” he kissed your stomach once he laid you on your back. “i like that.” he reached for your waistband, pulling them down your leg. “keep them open pretty baby.” he kissed the sides of your thighs. “such a pretty little pussy.”

you felt the warmth of his lips as he kissed your cunt. “j-jeno.” it had been a while since you've felt anything like this, and lord was jeno good at what he was doing , licking your folds , his nose brushing up against your clit, for the first time in a very long time; there was only one thing on your mind— it was jeno.

“fuck jeno!” you moaned, gripping his dark locks. “im… im gonna cum.” you whined feeling him removing his lips for your clit , one of his fingers invading your hole. “you gonna cum for me?” you nodded, he groaned , his cock hard; he was ready to fuck you. “y-yes.” you gasped. “pl-please let me cum.”

“shit.” he cursed, adding another finger, curling them inside you. “so tight baby, go ahead and let go for me, make a mess all over my fingers for me.” you gasped out his name , moaning as you came. “good fucking girl.” he fingered you through your orgasm, until you were holding his wrist , grinding against it. “je-jeno.” he no longer looked put together; his hair messy, clothes disheveled— even his brain was running a mile a minute, he finally knew what it was always like in your head. “you look so pretty when you are cumming.”

ridding himself of his clothes; folding your legs in half, giving him a view of your cunt. “pretty little pussy, want me to stuff my fat cock inside?” slotting his cock in between your folds; moving his hips, the tip of his cock catching your clit , both of you moaning. “pl-please fuck me.” you begged. “shh , baby i got you.”

positioning his leaky tip at your entrance, slipping inside. “fuck.” he sighed, your cunt sucking him in. “so tight.” he gasped as he fully bottomed out. “je-jeno you're so big.” you moaned out; his hand coming up to your throat. “yeah, you like my cock stretching your tiny pussy?” he hissed as you tightened around him, your eyes crossed as he plowed into you. “did i fuck you're pretty head empty?” he questioned, a moan following. “had so much fuck so much going on inside it , now it's nothing but my cock.”

he tightened his grip around your throat; speeding up his thrust. “de-deeper jeno, fuck!” the desperation in your voice , you needed to feel him; the deeper he went , the tighter his hand wrapped around your throat— the less you thought about anything, all your troubles floated away. “je-jeno im gonna cum.”

“yeah?” he speed up, cursing as he chased his orgasm. “hold it just a little baby, fuck , wanna cum with you.” his forehead was pressed against his. “i-i can't , jeno im gonna cum.” you gasped , your fingernails digging into his arms. “ugh , fuck!” he cursed , rubbing your clit. “fuck i'm gonna cum , cum for me pretty baby.”

he made direct eye contact with you as you came , cunt gripping him like a vice. “shit!” he pulled out , roughly stroking his cock as he came, his warm seed splashing on your stomach. “fuck fuck fuck.” he squeezed his base , milking himself, groaning. “shit.”

“you want another?” he toyed with your clit. “your little clit is still desperate for my attention.” you moaned , his finger filling you up. “je-jeno.” your glazed over eyes. “your pretty little mind is floating somewhere else isn't it?” he chuckled. “fucked you too dumb?” you gasped , moving your hips, grinding against his hand. “go ahead, cum for me again, pretty.”

you felt like you were floating; mind empty as you came down from second high. “come back to me, pretty girl.” he coached you back down , a smile on his face. “good girl.” he removed his fingers from your cunt. “you did so good for me.”

“something on your mind?” jeno asked as he watched you pick at your nail beds for five minutes. “there's always something on my mind.” you laughed , about to bite your nails , he grabbed your hand, holding your hand down , rubbing your knuckles. “not when you're occupied.” he smirked , you slapped his naked chest. “it's not that.” you said. “it's you.” he tilted his head. “what do you mean?” you shrugged. “you can tell me.” he said, you sighed.

“when you're around you help me not think, you calm me.” you confessed. “so what you're saying you're a hot mess without me?” you pouted. “why are you making fun of me?” you whined , he laughed , wrapping his arms around your body. “thats fine with me.” he kissed your forehead. “you're a hot mess.”

“but you're my hot mess.”

©LUVYENI

966 notes · View notes

berzahoes · 1 year ago

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manifestation, baby! | tom blyth

summary: fans find out tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes (and she definitely manifested her life)

an: the way i thought about this idea and quickly wrote it down so i didn’t forget it. i used to have an app that made those fake tweets but i’m just tired to make fake profiles 😭 maybe i’ll change it later idk

for the purpose of this imagine, let’s pretend tbosas book was published between 2017-2019

liked by zeglerslove, 444_bri and 35,377 others

tomblythxsnow apparently tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviews books and she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes and she literally manifested her future 😭

lucymygf WHATTT WHATS HER CHANNEL NAME

tomblythxsnow it’s yn’s book corner. she hasn’t posted since 2019 ngl i need her to review a little life because that book destroyed me

nat76_ omg i used to watch her videos!! i’m still subscribed to her 😭 i remember only buying and reading the books she liked because i wanted to be her so bad

j4ckaszlol “if someone ever makes a movie adaptation of this book and casts someone attractive to play snow then i am sorry for the person i become” REALLLLL

graybairdsmockingjay dude the part where she said “i’m calling it now whoever plays young snow will be my boyfriend. movie studios always cast someone attractive as the younger version of a character!” MY JAW DROPPED SHE NEEDS TO TELL ME HER WAYS

“guess what rachel just sent me.” you heard tom say when he arrived to your shared apartment.

“wedding invitations?!” you gasped as you almost stood up from the sofa since you were watching reruns of criminal minds, but tom stopped you.

“no, it’s better!” tom sat beside you and showed you his phone. “why didn’t you tell me you had a youtube channel?” on his phone screen was your review of the ballad of songbirds and snakes, which had become a very popular video over the past couple of days.

you hid your face with a pillow and groaned. “don’t remind me. i just wanted to talk about my books and my family didn’t care. don’t watch it! it’s embarrassing!”

“i think it’s cute. aw look, your dog made a cameo!” he pointed at your old dog you used to have that walked into the frame.

“indi! no, come sit right here. oh . . . and she’s walking away. okay, anyways.” your younger self said in the video

“indi? why Indi?” tom asked you even though you were still hiding from embarrassment.

“after indiana jones. my dad and i loved those movies and he gifted me indi as a birthday present.” you confessed.

“love, don’t be embarrassed. i think it’s cute that you manifested your life according to the comments on instagram,” tom paused the video then cuddled up to you. “i won’t watch it if you don’t want me to.”

“it’s fine, i just didn’t think anyone would find it. we can watch it together.” you uncovered yourself and sat down properly to watch the video with tom. before he pressed the play button and together you watch your younger self review the book.

“i’ve read all the hunger games books at least four times and this one did not disappoint. but i do hope whoever ends up being cast as young snow is someone hot. i’m sorry it’s the rules! and they will be my boyfriend, i’m calling dibs.”

tom smirked at you. “if only younger you could see you now.”

“she would definitely think ‘wow, how did we pull this beautiful man?’ then be confused as to why the hunger games and fnaf is trending in 2023.”

liked by tomblyth, rachelzegler and 1,377,389 others

ynlovesbooks told ya. love you tomblyth ❤️

rachelzegler she is THAT girl

ynlovesbooks no u

everdeenx12 bestie he’s EVIL

ynlovesbooks he’s a walking red flag but my favorite color is red 😍

chamaletproblems pls tell me how you did this

ynlovesbooks i figured out who they were casting and kept him hostage until he agreed to be my bf

tomblyth true

#tom blyth one shot #tom blyth fanfic #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #tbosas

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midnightfantasiez · 3 months ago

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Play With Me | Octoberfest Day 10

➺ Pairing - senior!Hyunjae x f!reader

➺ Drink - Negroni with a hint of amaretto (acquaintance x breeding)

➺ Summary - Lee Hyunjae was known to be the campus heartthrob and is literally the perfect guy to ever exist. Little did you know that he was hiding something behind that lovable smile of his that you have grown to love and admire.

➺ Word Count - 1,366

➺ Warnings - Smut (18+, minors DNI), frat parties yayzers, cursing, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, clothed sex, dirty talk, rough sex, petnames (sweetheart, princess), blowjob, cum tasting, hair pulling, Hyunjae is lowkey a little sadist here (don't read if triggering!!)

➺ Author’s note - dedicating this one to the number one mirae @daisyvisions 💗 happiest birthday daisy i'll never forget the day how i went from being one of your biggest fan / reader to mutuals like it's still so bizarre to me and look at us being besties now huhu 🥺 (here's to more chaos & funsies yay!!) ngl yall i struggled a bit with this prompt bcs idk if i executed the scenario well so pls bear with me 😭

➺ Taglist - @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @mamuljji @synthwxve @j4edo @h0mebody-heaven @tinkerbell460 @nyu-topia @jaminthemiddle @kyaroscuro @daisyvisions @momhwa-agenda @snowflakewhispers (join my permanent taglist here!)

➺ OctoberFest Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You were having second-hand thoughts about agreeing to even step out of your apartment for the night.

The semester had just ended, and your roommates convinced you that it would be best to let loose for the night and attend a frat party hosted by the seniors for the night. As if it wasn’t horrible enough that you weren’t too much of a social butterfly, but hanging out with the guys that were one year ahead of you didn’t sound too comfortable for your liking.

However, your roommates had opinions that contradicted yours—saying that older guys are much better than the ones you have in your classes. They seem to be a lot more mature and are aware of their actions most of the time—often avoiding things that would paint them as immature and get them into trouble.

Reluctantly, you had no choice but to agree as your roommates literally dragged you out of your room and down the block. Immediately, your eyes landed on the scene before you—a house packed with students drinking to their hearts' content and partying like it was nobody’s business.

Slowly, you had to squirm your way into the actual party to get yourself a drink. After all, you were thirsty, and hanging out by the drink station seemed safer than navigating through the house. Just as you expected, your roommates immediately blended into the crowd and were nowhere to be seen. But you couldn’t blame them—they were pretty active on the campus party scene.

Just as you were browsing through the selection of alcohol to satisfy your thirst, you suddenly felt a warm breath on your neck as you turned around abruptly and ready to give whoever it was a lecture.

“Fucking hell! Did your mother never teach you how not to be a creep!?”

Immediately, you started to regret screaming at the top of your lungs when you realised who it was that had gotten your attention. It was Lee Hyunjae—one of the campus heartthrobs that everyone swoons over.

You have always admired his good looks, just like everyone else, but seeing him up close in person immediately gave you butterflies in your stomach—making you think about how this person could be real.

If it weren’t for one of your roommates who just happened to be part of the student council with Hyunjae, you would’ve never got to know who he was. Sure, you have only spared glances and said a few greetings because you would come to pick up your roommate whenever she had to stay a little longer on campus, but that was pretty much it.

That was why you were taken aback when Hyunjae said your name for the first time with his sweet voice. “Y/N, right? Never expected to see you here.”

“Well umm, Savannah dragged me here. I didn’t have a choice,” you bluntly replied.

“Definitely can see her doing that,” he chuckled before he started going through the liquors on the table and pouring different liquids into a glass as he handed it to you. “Care for a drink?”

You hesitated for a bit, but the male reassured you that he had no ill intentions while making it. Slowly, you took in a sip and closed your eyes tightly as the alcohol slowly flowed down your throat. It has been a while since you have had something this strong down your system.

“W-What is this?”

“A good-old Homely Smoke cocktail, definitely fitting for a girl like you,” he winks.

As much as that flirtatious wink of his made you feel a little uncomfortable, you had to admit that you were glad that he made you something sweet instead of a bitter one because you were not ready to puke in front of everyone for the night.

“Damn, is there anything you can’t do? An alcohol connoisseur and part of the student council? A rather deadly combo if you ask me,” you teased before taking another big sip of your drink.

Suddenly, Hyunjae hesitated for a moment before he closed his distance between you both, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “Actually, that’s not all that I’m good at.”

“Oh yeah? Show me what else you are capable of, then.”

“I’m not sure if you can take it, sweetheart.”

You were provoked, and you weren’t going down without a fight. You slowly pushed him up so that you were staring right back at him, responding to his challenge with a smirk.

“Try me.”

Maybe you should’ve been more careful with your words, and provoking the senior himself wasn’t the brightest idea in your books. Because now you find yourself lying on one of the beds in one of the empty bedrooms in the house with your legs placed over Hyunjae’s shoulder as he thrusts his cock within you.

The senior wasted no time crashing his alcohol-filled lips onto yours, kissing you feverishly as he swiftly moved you to one of the nearest bedrooms from the pantry and threw you straight onto the bed. He wasted no time in lifting your skirt and unbuckled his pants before rubbing his tip against your clit for a few moments before pushing his entire length in.

It seemed that he wanted to get to the bottom of this real quick, to the point that he didn’t care if he was sweating through the tight black tank top that he was wearing—he needed to fuck you right now.

“You said you can take me, didn’t you?” He panted as he made that remark against you, enjoying the look that was plastered across your face as you whimpered underneath him.

“H-Hyunjae…I’m sorry…”

“An apology, huh? Maybe I’ll forgive you if you can continue to hold it longer for me,” he growled as he pinned both of your hands above your head before lowering his body slightly to thrust deeper within you.

His cock slowly and roughly reached certain places within you that you never knew existed, eventually hitting your g-spot, making you yelp in agony.

“Hyunjae! I can’t!” You screamed as you balled your hands into fists, trying your best to break apart from his grip, but to no avail.

“Come on, princess. I’m just getting started,” he mocks before picking his pace up. “Tell me, how badly do you want me?”

“Hnngh…d-don’t stop…p-please…keep going…” you begged as you felt tears slowly dripping down from the side of your eyes down your cheeks.

Oh, how badly Hyunjae loved that sight of you.

“You want me? You want me to fill your pussy up with my cum to the point that it oozes out and drips down your thighs?”

“Y-Yes…please…I need it…”

“Louder, princess.”

“Y-YES!! CUM INSIDE HYUNJAE!!”

With those last words, his grip on your wrists and legs tightened to the point you felt his nails digging into your skin as he made his few final thrusts before you both eventually came together. You were feeling a good amount of liquid dripping down your thighs as you came down from your high.

But before you could even process the thought that you had just fucked your senior right here and then, Hyunjae immediately pulled you up and shoved his cock into your mouth—forcing you to clean up every single drip of his cum with your tongue.

“You said you can take me, princess. It’s your job to finish every last drop of what you made me do to you.”

Hyunjae grabbed your hair and pushed you in deeper each second, not giving you any room to take a breather. He made sure you swallowed everything before finally pulling you apart to lean down and give you a little kiss.

Just when you thought it’d all be over, he suddenly flips you around and makes you get down on all fours onto the bed before he adjusts his cock once again on your clit. Before he decided to continue with his little games, he moved forward to whisper again in your ears—making your eyes widen before giving you the biggest challenge you’ve experienced just yet.

“You know, the sudden thought of seeing little miniature versions of us both running around our future apartment doesn’t sound so bad after all.”

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midnite-c6 · 11 days ago

Note

I also wpuld like to be thanos' and nam-gyu's dog ngl! idk nam-gyu just seems like a regular to pet shop and the cashier asks how's your precious girl how's your puppy!! as he's buying some treats and he's muttering yeah real lovely we've been doing some obedience training because she's been troublesome lately.. nam-gyu getting you a dusty pink collar and leash save me..

WOOOF PURRR HISSS BARKK YOURE SO RIGHT its actually so filthy the things id let these two do huhuhuhuhuhu . feral rn.

nam-gyu x hybridpuppy!reader | thanos x hybridpuppy!reader warnings: 18+, DARK content, degradation, sex, READER HAS EARS AND A TAIL!!

nsfw below already -> !!

nam-gyu ʕ⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ

he sighs, "she's been making more messes lately." the pet supplies owner would just laugh at the statement, "oh, sir, you should get used to it by now. but, i thought you've already trained her?" she asks, considering he was a regular, afterall. "i did, but she's been acting a bit more stubborn recently, maybe she just needs a collar now, it's been long overdue." the shop owner would only nod and smile. "ah yes, you should've bought her one when you first got her! a collar helps the dog know who it belongs to, and who is its owner." he chuckles, seemingly lost in thought as he grabs the plastic bag with the pretty pink collar and the matching leash he generously bought you, he bows his head. "well, miss, i'll get going now, thank you." as he heads out the door, the woman could only think how much of a sweet boy he is, taking in the responsibility in taking care of a cute puppy..

except, the puppy was you! like it always has. you'd see him come back, opening the door as you immediately cling onto him, "on your knees, go." he orders, and you immediately comply! you love him so much! and when he puts the pretty collar he bought for you, seeing how his name was engraved on the pendant, you'd truly know who you belong to. now he's easily gotten you into a doggy (ironically) position, he wasn't even moving, the only thing he was doing is tugging on your leash to get you to push in and out of him. you'd obviously choke, but he knows he's trained you at taking a lil' bit more. "ah.. fuck, move will you? my hands are getting tired from tugging you around." but it takes all your energy to move, you were too sensitive down there.

"you don't want me to donate you to the doggy pound, would you now?" "n-no, sir .!" you didn't want that!! you loved nam-gyu as your owner :< "then, do as i say, dog."

nam-gyu was a bit cruel on you, yes, but he wouldn't go as far as be careless with you... he's kept you to be a home dog, only meant to be sheltered.

thanos ʕ⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ

thanos- on the other hand, oh this man is careless with you:< he'd literally treat you like a puppy on the street! he's too busy with clubbing, partying, smoking weed, and being a famous rapper, he forgets his time with you. the nicest thing he does though is he'd buy you pretty clothes, pretty lingerie, but sadly you barely catch glimpse of him when he's sober. he's always high and thankfully happy, but when he's high and not-so-happy... well...

when he comes back from clubbing all night, you'd hear the door finally open, it was your beloved su-bong!! you'd immediately pepper kisses all over his cheeks but he'd push you to the ground. it seems he might've gotten into a fight at the club, or worse, he'd meet the person that scammed him, and you could only whimper, knowing that the best stress reliever is you. and whenever you wag your tail in excitement for anything, it just makes him hard as hell.

he'd have you face down, ass up, so he'd have full view of the wagging tail that was wagging just for him! he doesn't need a leash, he could just painfully tug on your tail! now his hand was pressing a vape past his lips, whilst the other was pressing your head down to the pillows, he loves hearing your muffled moans because you're still so loud even with them! volume down, will you? his dick wet with your slick, his thrusts going from fast and rough to slow and still rough, "are you in heat?" you'd try your best to shake your head. "jeez, you bitch like one" he complains, a particularly harder thrust than the last. even leaning in to take a painful bite onto your puppy ears. "i should definitely train you more, right, princess?" wasn't having his cum dripping out of both your holes enough?? D:

bonus:

you'd obviously only be loyal to one, but if they raised you together, then.. they've trained you to be loyal for the two of them, you can't have one without the other, and when you're too impatient, already humping su-bong before nam-gyu gets home, he'd punish you for that !

HEHEHE I REALIZED I HAVE SM HEOMWORKS THAT I have NOT DONE BYEE.

#squid game 2 #squid game #nam-gyu #player 124 #squid game x reader #squid game season 2 #squid game smut #nam gyu #thanos #namgyu #nam-gyu smut #nam-gyu x reader #thanos x reader #thanos smut #choi su bong

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mamaagirlbehindyouu · 2 months ago

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Fake Dating, Real Feelings Pt.1

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 925

Summary: Your friend Tara invites you to a party, but she has an ulterior motive. (This chapter is mainly build-up to what I’ll be writing in later parts, so if you don’t like slow burns then you may want to wait for later chapters to be released to begin reading <3.)

Warning: A little bit toxic (but will get better in later chapters!!)

A/N: This chapter is kinda ass ngl but more parts will come out later w/ more fluff-heavy chapters (and potentially smut)

You sat in bed, propped up on two pillows, scrolling on your laptop. It was finals season- meaning you were now starting the 9 page term paper that was due tomorrow at 12pm. It wasn’t ideal, but you had enough time to where you were still putting off writing your paper. You weren’t writing your essay on your laptop, you were scrolling through Pinterest.

That was, of course, until you got a text from someone. Picking up your phone to see who the message was from, you instinctively kicked your feet when you saw the name of who it was from. Tara. Your friend tara. The friend you just so happened to have a massive thing for.

Shutting your laptop and properly sitting up, you unlocked your phone to read the message from her.

Tara: Hey, you up?

You stared at the message for a moment, contemplating whether or not to reply. It was already 9:30, you could just leave Tara on delivered and lie tomorrow that you had had an “early night”. After all, your paper needed to get done and you could tell from the nature of Tara’s text that she either wanted to go somewhere or do something.

Yeah right, that would take more self control than you had.

Y/n: Ofc, what’s up?

Immediately after sending the text, you were met with a “Read 9:36 PM”. You watched the gray bubbles dance on your phone screen, before they disappeared and re-appeared.

Tara: Last time I’ll ask this, I swear

Tara: Will you come to a party with me tn? I want to show up like 10:30 😊

You groaned, staring at your phone again before replying. This wasn’t an infrequent request from Tara by any means- she always needs a DD considering the fact that she seems to love getting wasted. With time, the request had become more and more of a chore as she seemed to get drunker and drunker at each party you took her to. Going to parties with Tara wasn’t fun anymore, but you knew she would just find someone else to go with her if you said no and you didn’t want that.

Y/n: I’ll be there in 30.

Throwing your blankets off and setting your laptop on the nightstand, you got up, walking over to the closet. Why did you always go along with whatever Tara wanted? Well, the answer to that was obvious, but you would rather die than admit your feelings for Tara were getting serious.

After throwing on a black miniskirt and tank with a jacket on top and some boots you got into your car and began the drive to Tara’s house. This was a drive you knew all too well, and not for good reason.

When you got to Tara’s house the front door was already open, with just the screen door shut and Tara visible and sitting on the stairs. She was wearing flare jeans and a ribbed blue henley with some white Converse. You couldn’t explain how, but Tara always seemed to make the most basic of outfits come off as breathtaking. Maybe her face card was enough of an accessory.

Spotting you from where she sat on the stairs, Tara leapt up and smiled, waving her hands at you. She opened the screen door, squealing.

“Y/n! You came! Thank you so much!”

Tara’s joy was always infectious, making you forget your original reservations about that night. A smile spread across your own face as you waved back awkwardly, unsure of what to do whenever Tara’s attention was fully on you.

“Of course I did,”

You said, unaware of how un-enthusiastic you came across. You were always excited to see Tara, but being around her often made you feel awkward, frequently making it seem like you have a lackluster temperament.

“Could you act any less excited to see me?”

Tara teased as she held open the screen door for you, allowing you to enter her home.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to-“ you began to speak, but Tara cut you off, noticing how you seemed genuinely apologetic.

“No, I was joking. It’s okay, y/n/n,” she reassured you, offering another smile.

You smiled back and nodded in agreement, not wanting to say anything else about the matter, still embarrassed about the interaction. Tara led you up to her bedroom (not that you were unfamiliar with it).

“I just need to do my makeup real quick and then we can leave,” Tara assured you, aware that it was getting closer and closer to 10:30.

“‘real quick?’” you laughed. “Since when do you do your makeup ‘real quick’?”

“Hey, last time you came over I did my makeup in ten minutes, max- That’s, like, record time for me,” Tara defended herself, raising her hands in the air, primer in hand.

“It was more like half an hour, not ten minutes,” you corrected her as she rolled her eyes. “And why’d you invite me this time? Or was it just to be your designated driver again?” you half-called Tara out, passing it off as a joke, as you took in her features, taking advantage of the fact that she was preoccupied. You loved all of Tara’s features, but her eyes were definitely at the top of the list. How could anyone not love them?

“About that..” Tara said, stopping her makeup application, making an uncomfortable face. “I kind of need you to pretend like you’re dating me.” Suddenly, you were snapped out of your thoughts.

Pt. 2??

Photo Creds: miaolliez and geminiprinc3ss on Pinterest

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #scream vi #scream #x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #slow burn #sapphic #jenna ortega x reader #fem!reader #reader insert #fake dating

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notyourhetloki · 3 months ago

Text

cardio (recom!Miles Quaritch x fem!Reader)

Reader: she/her (fem!Reader)

/NSFW Miles Quaritch x Reader/

Summary: Colonel Quaritch needs to get off some steam, and he knows exactly who could help him with that.

A/N: I'm alive and I'm horny for this alien... I know he's a terrible person and I DON'T support his actions but hey, it's fiction and I can pretend he did nothing wrong, right? Anyway, took me DAYS to write this and I hope you like it! Reblogs are always appreciated!

Tags: smut, mdni, age gap (reader's obviously an adult), Quaritch being Quaritch, but probably ooc ngl, oral sex (f receiving), piv sex (yes I know), unprotected sex, petnames (kid, sweetheart), degradation and praise, dacryphilia, daddy kink, big size difference (human x na'vi), belly bulge, casual sex.

Word Count: 5k

—

Colonel Miles Quaritch; a name you couldn't forget. His impetuous reputation followed him wherever he went, scaring away those who dared to get close. Such a legendary status granted him a sort of fear and admiration combo from his peers and even from you, a scientist who had never even properly met him.

Most of your admiration for him was purely experimental, now that he was a recombinant, after all. You wanted to get close and see for yourself all the wonders the new Na'vi body could provide him.

But you had to settle for watching him from afar. Whenever you crossed the same corridors or observed him in the gym (lifting those stupid oversized weights) you just couldn't help but stare a little, good thing he never noticed... until he did.

"And what do we have here?" You got caught ogling too hard at the blue man's biceps while he stretched. "Like what you see?" He said smugly while flexing his arm at you.

You turned all red and stepped away as quickly as you could, but you could still hear his laugh echoing through the halls. You felt humiliated, and you were sure he would know you as a joke from then on.

One day, one of your colleagues asked if you could cover them on the medbay and do some checkups on the recoms. It wasn't really your area, you worked more in the laboratory but you accepted out of curiosity.

When you entered your designated station you almost gasped in surprise. The Colonel was there, sitting on a stretcher (big enough for his body but low enough so you could reach him). He seemed bored, expression unreadable while he bounced one of his spread legs.

"Alright, let's get this over with–" Quaritch started to speak, but he stopped mid-way after seeing you. He sat up straight, ears up in alert while his tail wagged leisurely. His eyes examined you up and down, mouth slightly agape as he licked his fangs. "Well, hey there..."

The way he slowly pronounced his words sent shivers down your spine, his low gravelly voice echoed through the room and you found it difficult to keep calm. Gosh, your crush on him was bigger than you had imagined.

"Hello, Colonel. My name is (y/n) and I'll be performing your checkup today, any questions?" You tried keeping it professional, but the way he looked at you felt so predatory... you felt like a lamb in a lion's presence. Besides, he was so freaking tall, taller than you had anticipated now that you were so close to him.

"Yeah, I know your name." The memory from your previous encounter made you even more nervous, but he didn't seem to be disgusted by you. He seemed... interested. "And nope. I'm all yours, princess." He leaned back on his hands and puffed his chest, clearly too comfortable.

You couldn't help but blush at his comment, giving him a soft smile while you approached him. Carefully, you prepared some of the equipment you would use, deciding to let your shyness aside.

"Someone here is feeling well-humored enough. Have you had a good night's sleep?" You said, and he never took his eyes off you while chuckling.

"Slept like a baby." His sharp grin and intense gaze had an effect on you, one you tried to deny and repress... but the reality was, you were attracted to him, and it was more than just scientific curiosity.

"Glad to hear that." You asked him to lean down and he obeyed, you checked on his ears, his eyes, and now needed to check his mouth.

"Open up." You proceeded, but Quaritch hesitated.

"Y'know, I'm not used to receivin' orders." He looked down at you, and you couldn't quite decipher his expression. It was a mixture of smugness and severeness, you knew he wasn't completely joking.

"Well, you're under my care now. So you have to listen to every word I say, right, Colonel?" You didn't know what had gotten into you to feel comfortable enough to tease him like that, and you immediately regretted it after the sentence came out of your mouth.

But for your relief, all Quaritch did was laugh. He crossed his arms and stared right into your eyes, lids halfway closed in a relaxed way,

"Yes, ma'am..." He whispered, sending electricity down your body.

To have such an authoritarian figure be so cooperative with you was already a turn-on, but that was none other than Colonel Quaritch. The man exuded so much power and yet there he was, calling you pet names and behaving so well...

"Now, open." You repeated yourself, and he darted his tongue out mischievously, still not breaking eye contact.

Trying to not let his gaze distract you, you performed your examinations and let him close his mouth after a while. He used the pause to take a quick breath from the respirator hanging around his neck and as you got close enough to measure his blood pressure, Quaritch decided to speak into your ear.

"What a pretty blush... is that all for me or do your other patients get you like this often?" He remained still, but his tail brushed the side of your hip as you tried to maintain composure.

Your heart was hammering in your chest, you couldn't possibly believe that was happening... was the Colonel really flirting with you?

"I-I don't have many patients... I'm usually in the lab, actually. I'm just covering for a colleague today..." You tried to explain but all words came out too soft. As you looked up to meet his gaze, he seemed satisfied with his effect on you.

"Covering for a colleague, huh? Such a good girl." The last couple of words came out teasingly slow, dragged out so you could feel every syllable going straight to your sex. The motherfucker knew what he was doing to you.

"I-I think we're done here today, Colonel. You're free to go." You turned around to put some information into the datapad but immediately felt him standing up behind you, his shadow looming over you as you gathered all your equipment.

"Well, guess I'll see you around, kid." Quaritch sighed dramatically before saying, then put one of his large hands on your shoulder as he walked out. "When's our next checkup?"

You looked up, then up again... until you met his gaze. "Hm... in this initial phase, the checkups should be pretty regular, so... maybe next week?"

"Nice. See you there." He squeezed your shoulder before exiting the room.

"But–" You couldn't finish your sentence before Quaritch was out the door, and you knew you probably wouldn't have an opportunity quite like that again... so you decided to just relish the moment and allow yourself to blush even harder at the interaction you just had.

A week and a half had passed and you still couldn't get over your encounter with the Colonel, it had messed you up entirely yet served the purpose of enlightening you on your true feelings. Your little admiration had developed into a full-blown crush and the following nights after the checkup you couldn't help but touching yourself, remembering the way he looked at you and called you a 'good girl'.

You felt insane, victim of your own desires and you just couldn't control it. The thought of him never ceased to appear in your mind, yet fully aware of the taboo weighing on you... he was currently in a different species' body, that alone made you feel like a freak.

But imagine your surprise when one of the nurses came into your lab, all scared face, asking you if you could go the medbay. "Colonel Quaritch demands your presence for the checkup, ma'am..."

Fuck. Why did he want you specifically? Did Quaritch actually want to see you again? That thought never crossed your mind before, but now... it thrilled you.

You strutted your way to the medbay and confidently entered his station, and there he was in all his glory. Seated in a comfortable position, legs spread open and tail slowly wagging. He reminded you of a cat, observing his prey.

"Took your time, huh?" Quaritch's voice resonated through your body, low and severe. He didn't seem as content as the other time you saw him.

"I can assume you didn't sleep so well this time, Colonel." You said as you closed the door behind you, slowly approaching the blue alien.

"I'm all wound up lately, princess. Needin' to get off some steam." The grin he gave you was full of mischief, but he still looked stern and very stressed.

"May I suggest more exercise? Some cardio, maybe? Running on those personalized giant treadmills must feel nice." You innocently proposed, but the look in his eyes turned deep and dark.

"Oh, you could help me with some cardio, alright..." His demeanor transformed into something more playful, turning his head sideways like a puppy in order to get your full reaction.

You gasped lightly at his words, turning completely red at the implication. "You pervert!" You whispered, looking up at him.

The Colonel laughed loudly while holding both his hands up in defense. "Hey, I didn't say a thing! You're the one assuming!" He continued laughing for a bit before you finally decided to avert the situation and take one of your medical instruments to his mouth.

"Open." You said plainly, and he obeyed with a bit of hesitance. "Your throat is sore, have you been screaming a lot?" You hoped the question would throw him off the previous conversation.

"Oh, you have no idea, kid." It worked, and you could see the exhaustion in his eyes as he spoke.

"I'll give you some syrup for that, you'll be good as new in no time." You offered him a smile despite feeling so small in his presence, his intimidating size always getting on your nerves.

"Does it taste like shit?" He prodded.

"Oh, c'mon. Can't handle a bit of medicine?" You teased while measuring his blood pressure.

"Watch it." His voice came with a warning, but you only smirked at him.

As you were finishing the checkup, you turned around from him to update the datapad. Suddenly, you felt something lifting the hem of your dress up from behind, so you looked down and caught the sight of his tail trying to expose you.

"Fuck, that little sundress you' wearin' looks good on you." Quaritch said, looking at your exposed thighs.

You quickly slapped his tail away from you, smoothing down the hem of your dress neatly while gasping in exasperation.

"Oh, you–!" You tried to measure your tone to a low whisper but ended up not being able to control your words. "You absolute bastard!"

His low chuckle only served to turn you on and piss you off at the same time. "Don't call me names, darlin'... I might like it."

You sighed in defeat, opening up the door as an invitation. You didn't know if you should feel harassed or horny... or both. "You're free to go now, Colonel."

He chuckled at you, rising up from his seat and towering over your frame.

"See you next time, sweetheart." Quaritch said while ruffling your hair lightly. The way the pet name rolled off his tongue made your heart beat even faster, and you knew you were going to remember it later that night.

You couldn't concentrate for the rest of the day, feeling the ghost of his presence crawl under your skin. It ignited you to even think he could want you... made you feel seen, desired.

As you got ready to go to your quarters, you remembered the throat medicine you promised to give him... and you had an idea. It wouldn't hurt to try, right? Besides, you just wanted to see him again, maybe gain another compliment so you could touch yourself later thinking about it.

So you removed your labcoat and went with just your sundress, fixing your hair on the way to his chambers.

You hesitated before knocking on his door, but your crush was so intense it filled you with crazed bravery.

Your eyes widened at the sight of a shirtless Quaritch answering the door, who looked quite unhappy until he realized it was you. "Oh, wow. What gives me the honor?" He leaned on the doorframe and crossed his arms, looking down at your face.

"I-I brought the syrup I mentioned earlier... for your throat." Gosh, he was handsome. Blue, tall and muscular, you wish you could climb him like a tree. His big green eyes flickered between your face and the big recipient you were holding, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

He chuckled in response, taking the medicine from your hands. "You're the sweetest thing, ain'tcha?" He seemed to look down at your body before stepping aside and leaving a gap in the doorway. "Come in, kid... don't worry, the filtration system's out so the air is good enough for ya."

Besides your better judgment, you just couldn't simply deny an order from the Colonel. You entered his room and quickly noticed how everything was oversized, big enough for his comfort... you found that endearing.

He closed the door behind you and suddenly realized how crazy that whole situation was. You were in his quarters, alone with the legendary Miles Quaritch... and he was shirtless.

"So... h-how can I help?" You tried maintaining calm, but deep down you were so nervous you couldn't help but stutter at your words.

"Oh, I know somethin' you could help me with." His canines showed in his sharp grin and the vision made you swallow dry, nearly panicking when he trapped you against the wall with his body. He was ducked enough so his face was just slightly above yours, and he seemed even more intimidating than before.

"I don't understand..." You didn't want to seem weak, so you maintained eye contact even though it was proven to be quite difficult.

"Don't act a fool, you know damn well why you're here. I’m tense and I need a hand. I thought a pretty thing like you could help me out." Quaritch looked at you with hungry eyes, the implications of his advance combined with his closeness to you made your panties wet.

But even though you were completely horny at that point, you just didn't want to give in so easily. "I-I don’t think this is appropriate, Colonel..." Your voice came out in a mere whisper, not being able to convince him.

"Oh, cut the crap. I’ve seen the way you look at me in the corridors, the way you blush whenever you’re near me… it’s adorable." He took the opportunity to lift your chin up with his big fingers, forcing you into a more direct stare. "Or do you want me to believe you came all the way here just to give me some medicine?"

You swallowed again as you felt completely exposed, but surprisingly, you weren't ashamed. Instead, you felt even more encouraged to pursue what you had been fantasizing about for weeks now.

"Then, what do you need from me, Quaritch?" You fiddled with the hem of your dress playfully, and he looked down at your body to accompany your movements. "What would you like me to do?" You said softly.

He slowly raised his gaze to your face again, smiling widely while licking his lips.

"I would like you..." Quaritch's tail once again tried to lift your dress up, grazing the skin of your thigh and giving you goosebumps in the process. "to take your clothes off."

Your eyes widened a bit at his request, but you wanted to behave for him. As you slowly removed your dress, you noticed his eyes roaming on your skin, hungry for the sight of you.

"Ah... such a good girl you are." Quaritch's voice was low and raspy, full of desire. He only stood there, arms propped on each side of your head as he observed your every move with much interest.

The way he called you made you blush even harder, not being able to control a low satisfied hum in response.

"You like it when I praise you, huh?" Once your dress was gone, he took it from your hands and tossed it across the room. "You gotta earn it if you wanna hear more... so keep moving."

You nodded your head and decided to try something out while you undid your bra. "Yes, sir..." You said lightly, barely audible.

Letting your bra fall to the ground, you massaged your exposed breasts only to show them off, allowing a playful grin to appear on your lips.

"Oh, you dirty little thing." Soon the Colonel's hands replaced yours, his big palms completely covered your breasts as he squeezed them not so gently. "How many times did you touch yourself thinkin' about this, huh? Thinkin' 'bout me?"

Heat rose to your cheeks and traveled down your belly, the sensation of his hands on you clouded your thoughts. "Ah... m-many times, sir... so many..."

Quaritch appeared really satisfied with your answer, twitching his ears in excitement and wagging his tail. "Oh yeah? You've got toys or somethin'?"

He wanted to know the details and you were going to give it to him, even though it made you blush.

"Y-Yes, I..." You slowly lowered your panties, feeling them slide down your legs. "I got a dildo I use..."

"Really?" His condescending tone only made the ache between your legs grow. "What's the size of that thing?"

"Hm... pretty average, actually." You eyed him with false innocence before he grabbed your ass hard, almost lifting you up.

"Ha, let me tell ya, kid... I think I might be bigger than average." Quaritch inclined his head, inviting you to look down. As you did, you finally saw the bulge in his pants... the thing was huge.

"Holy shit..." You said under your breath, making him laugh. "I-I don't think it will fit, Colonel..."

His laugh was harsh and patronizing. "Nah, we'll make it work." He looked all casual about it, smug as always.

Quaritch took your arm and guided you to his enormous bed, lifting you up and laying you out in front of him.

"Fuck, look at you..." He carefully kneeled in front of the bed, massaging your thighs encouragingly. "Open them for me, sweetheart."

You opened your legs delicately, exposing your slick sex to him.

His pupils widened at the sight of your pussy, and only for a brief moment he looked at your eyes before finally devouring you, diving mouth-first into your sex. The sheer surprise of his action made you jolt a little, granting you a slap on the side of your thigh. "Ah!"

"Behave." He said against you, just a quick pause before he continued. Quaritch licked your entrance up to your clit, kissing his way around your labia and making an absolute mess.

You whined and moaned at his movements, grabbing the sheets around you and caressing the back of his head. Your reaction only encouraged him to tantalizingly insert a finger inside you, making you shake from overstimulation.

"Ah! Quaritch!" Moaning his last name made him smile against you, chuckling to himself and pausing for a quick comment.

"I have a finger up your cunt, darlin'... I think you can call me 'Miles' now..." He used the break to nip at the inside of your thighs, his sharp canines leaving marks as he bit into your supple skin.

"P-Please, Miles... don't stop..." Was all you could say before you felt another finger easing in you, his big digits spreading you open.

"Shh... so needy, ain'tcha?" He moved his fingers in and out carefully, aware of the size difference between you. "Don't worry... daddy's feelin' generous today."

Daddy. That word was your weakness, sending you deeper into a spiral of need and desire you didn't know possible. It was all you needed to send you to the edge.

Miles continued eating you out then, sucking on your clit while fucking you with his fingers. He licked and sucked and drooled all over you, meanwhile, his fingers curled up inside hitting the perfect spot.

"Ah! Please, d-daddy!" You could feel him smiling against you again as you got closer and closer to your climax. "Fuck!"

Waves of pleasure washed over you as your orgasm bloomed, sending electricity all over your body. But even after you came Miles didn't stop, forcing you to pull your hips away from him. "T-Too much..."

Quaritch wasn't exactly pleased with that, but he also wanted to move things along so he allowed it. "Okay, okay..."

He took the opportunity to take a breath from the respirator that laid next to you on the bed, closing his eyes and letting the air revigorate him.

Only then he crawled on top of you, his predatory demeanor causing you to feel even smaller than you already were in comparison to him. Miles bit his lip while lowering his pants, letting his dick spring out free from his boxers.

You couldn't help but gasp at the sheer size of it... could be compared to the size of your forearm, even. The glowy patterns of his skin extended down to his length, and the purple-rosy tip already dripped with pearlescent precum.

"It's rude to stare." He had a ridiculous smile on his face, clearly satisfied by your shocked expression.

Quaritch was slotted between your legs, stroking his dick slowly while admiring your body. "I'm gonna fuck you up, pretty girl."

Shivers went down your body at his low whisper, and you hummed in approval as he started to grind his length against your pussy. The veins and dots served as texture and stimulated your sensitive clit.

When you felt him positioning his tip at your entrance, you looked up at him and saw his concentrated face. Quaritch was intensely staring at where your bodies met, watching as every inch of him stretched you open and penetrated you.

"M-Miles..." You were about to tell him it was too much, but he soon slipped even further into you, causing you to gasp.

"Shh... attagirl." He eased in and out, inch by inch, slowly and precisely. You were pretty wet already but he occasionally would spit down on his dick to lubricate it even more.

You felt so full... his girth stretched you open so deliciously it hurt, making you teary-eyed.

"Daddy... please, ah!" When the first word came out of your mouth, you felt his grip on you tighten even further and you knew you were going to get bruised.

"You like that, huh? Let me see those tears, then." He was kneeling upright on the bed, grabbing your hips and raising them up to his crotch, completely controlling the movements.

The tears you were holding back started to cascade down your face in an instant, the relief of crying easing down the slight pain. You were overstimulated, but you didn't want to stop.

"Yeah... good girl, (y/n)." The sound of your name combined with the praise was divine, making you even more driven to continue such a crazy endeavor.

"I-I can take it, Miles... please." Was all you needed to say. He looked at your eyes for a lingering moment before thrusting his hips onto yours once, then twice... still slow but comparatively harsh.

You gasped at his every move and noticed that the pain slowly faded away, turning into delicious pleasure. Miles noticed that too, you began to moan louder and louder... so he started to thrust deeper, faster.

Soon he was fucking into you with the maximum length he could, making you mewl his name in return. He hovered over you, ears twitching in excitement and tail wagging.

"Such a tight little cunt, ah... taking my cock so well..." He groaned and hummed occasionally, the sounds vibrating in his chest.

You stayed in that position for a while, just taking him like a doll... until he stopped. You looked at him in confusion before feeling him lift you up completely, manhandling you until you were on top of his laid-down frame.

"You do the work now, princess." Quaritch said while inhaling on the respirator, chest quickly rising and falling trying to regulate his own breathing.

"Oh, you lazy bum." You whispered while aligning the tip of his cock into your entrance. You were facing him, cowgirl style as you slowly lowered your hips down onto his big dick.

"Hey!" He smacked your ass a little harder than intended, but didn't apologize. "You're lucky your cunt's been making me real jolly right now." And he smiled that stupid smile of his.

You decided to ignore him and just continue hopping on his cock, making a mess on the sheets as you rolled your hips in circles, up and down.

"Agh... fuck, look at you... such a good little whore." Quaritch's hands traveled your body without a certain destination, squeezing your tits and caressing your back before grabbing at your waist. "Go faster, I wanna see ya jiggle."

Obeying without much thinking, you started to fuck yourself into him faster. After a few thrusts, you felt yourself lowering even further onto him, taking him even deeper than before. Your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, moaning loudly while holding him for dear life.

"Fuck, doll... I'm gonna make you pop like that..." To your surprise, there was a sense of urgency in the Colonel's voice, was he... worried?

"Hmm, I hope I pop..." You said without thinking, too fucked out to even form coherent thoughts.

Miles laughed at that, seeing your expression and hearing your lust-filled voice... he knew you were enjoying yourself way too much. "Wow, you're such a fucking freak, huh? Such a dirty little slut."

The insults just fuelled you into a frenzy, bouncing on his dick faster and deeper and taking him almost all the way up. That's when you noticed his hand resting on your stomach, and you realized he was trying to feel the bulge his cock made in your belly.

"Can feel myself inside ya, kid... fuck." His enormous hand lingered there for a few moments before lowering his thumb to your clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive bud.

You rolled your head back in so much pleasure your vision went dark, moaning obscenely along with the squelching sounds your bodies made. Feeling your second orgasm growing inside, you hopped up and down until he was completely buried inside you. Once you took all his length, you simply started rolling your hips without taking him out. "Ahh...! F-Feels so... so good..."

"Goddammit, (y/n)... keep going." Demanded Quaritch, and you didn't even need the encouragement because you couldn't stop if you wanted to, searching your high frenetically.

For your luck, his thumb didn't stop either, rubbing your clit just right. You were so full and stretched and sensitive that all you could do was mewl for him. "Miles! Daddy... fuck, I'm gonna..."

"Y-Yeah, me too, princess..." He looked at you through half-shut eyes, not being able to hide his own pleasure. His hands squeezed your hips keeping them as close to him as possible, forcing you into him. "Ugh, gonna cum all up inside ya."

And then you felt him twitching inside your walls, spilling his seed and filling you up with his cum as he growled like an animal. You could feel his jizz dripping out of you, slowly oozing from your entrance onto his skin. That feeling alone, of being filled to the brim, made you finish in no time.

You came with a loud moan, throwing your head backward and arching your back. Your orgasm took over you, making you tingle in pure ecstasy... you had never felt anything like that before.

As you came down from your high, you opened your eyes to see Miles watching you attentively. His pupils were blown out while he heavily breathed through his respirator, and he smiled smugly at you.

"How you doing, kid?" He said after tossing his mask aside, rubbing soft circles on your bruised skin, surprisingly tender in his movements.

You slowly moved your hips up inch by inch, removing his now softening cock from inside you. It plopped onto his belly comically as you rolled to your side, climbing up the bed in order to face him. You felt incredibly empty without his girth stretching you, but you were proud of yourself for being able to take him so well.

"I feel amazing..." You confessed, not able to suppress a wide smile.

Quaritch laughed at that, inviting you to lay on his chest. You could hear his rapid heartbeats as he teased you. "Me too, me too..."

You both stayed there for a while, eyes closed while caressing each other until you remembered the air filtration system would start working at any minute. So you quickly got up, cleaned yourself and started to make your way to the door.

"Hey, where d'you think you're going, hm?" A stern voice could be heard from the bed.

"I thought you were sleeping..." You said, coming back into the room.

"Without saying goodbye? Heartless." He said pretentiously, knowing damn well he would do the same. "See you around, sweetheart."

"See you around, Miles." Without much thinking, you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. He didn't smile, but his ears flickered adorably and you took that as a win.

Before you could reach the door, you heard Quaritch call while standing up to reach you. "(y/n)?"

"Yes?" You turned around, looking up to meet his gaze.

"When's our next checkup?" He fumbled on his feet as he tried to pull his underwear up, making you chuckle.

"Honestly? I have no idea. As I said, checkups aren't really my thing." You tried not to stare too much at his body, the memories from the recent events already taking over your mind.

"Right..." The Colonel seemed disappointed at that, but his bright green eyes lit up the moment you started to speak.

"Don't worry, just call me whenever you need some cardio." You said as you winked, gaining a sharp grin from him.

"Yeah, that ain't a bad idea."

—

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#no regrets on this one tbh #miles quaritch #recom quaritch #quaritch x reader #miles quaritch x reader #avatar x reader #na'vi x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #headcanon #self insert #y/n #fem reader #avatar 2009 #avatar the way of water #terato #notyourhetloki

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