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sheyfu · 4 months ago

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yappologist degree holder ༊*·˚

𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗥 𝗩𝗢𝗜𝗖𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 about you.

feat. dan heng, aventurine, luocha, jing yuan, gepard, jiaoqiu, argenti and moze (gn!reader)

cw. ooc (very); jiaoqiu talks a lot; [slight] sexual innuendos

note. TRYING SOMETHING NEW GRAHHHHHH i dont think i captured their personalities correctly but 🙏🙏 WE BALL LAMSDOASDI i hope you guys enjoy it >:DD reader is identified as [name] and uses they/them prns (GANG I TRIED MY BEST LAMSDOAMSD) if you see me use fem prns in this piece please tell me <3 lmk if you'd like a pt. 2 w other chars (WOMEN ASHDUASHDUH)

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ DAN HENG

about [name] [name]? what about them?

chat: significant other [name] is my significant other. aside from the express, they’re one of the only ones keeping me grounded whenever i become… “emo”. their words, not mine.

chat: sleep sleep is something i found hard to come by; everytime i closed my eyes, visions of my past appeared. but now that [name] is by my side, it has become easier to fall to a peaceful rest.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ AVENTURINE

about [name] through a game of life or death is how [name] and i met. hm? unconventional you say? well, it’s one of the reasons why i fell for them.

chat: bet betting has become an integral part of [name] and i’s life. while it’s not a common way of expressing your love for someone, it’s how we do things. whether those bets entail having to have the other run errands or even give your own life up, it sends spikes of adrenaline up our bones resulting in a very fun game of cat and mouse.

chat: loss there are seldom games i lose — and most of the time, i still somehow come out as, partially, a winner. but for some reason, whenever i offer a game of chance against [name], i seem to lose every game we have. i can’t lie, i get somewhat annoyed at how i can’t seem to win a game against them. but then again, life would be dull if it were just an unending series of wins.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ LUOCHA

about [name] [name] is a travelling merchant i’ve come to know over the past years of my journeys as one myself. if i didn't have anyone to rely on before, i've got my dearest to thank now.

chat: bargain as a merchant, it is important for me to know how to bargain, especially when deals presented to me are severely unfair for me. i must admit, i wasn’t very good at striking fair deals when i was starting off my path as a travelling merchant. but over the years, [name] has taught me a lot about this art. by observing their ways of negotiating, i am now able to attain very fair and valuable trades.

chat: aromatherapy with [name]’s upbringing as an herb specialist, i get to experience their family’s aromatherapy service. with every scent i am presented with, i am able to clear my mind and slip in the embrace of solitude and calm.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ JING YUAN

about [name] [name] is someone who can ease my troubled mind with an embrace; the calm in my storm, the light of my life, and the heart of my soul.

chat: birds when little birds flock to my head, my spouse wonders if im this character called… snow white… *sigh* i am not sure as to who that is due to my upbringing as a military leader — i had no time for these trivial tales. but whenever they tell tales about this... gizney? no.. bizney? not quite right either.. ah yes, disney princess, the intent of me being dressed with robes of royalty are reflected in their eyes.

chat: mimi what was once a kitten, has now grown into a ferocious little lion. i remember when i first got her, [name] was all over the poor thing — smothering it with their love and words of praise — mimi didn’t complain though, she let herself get spoiled. and even up until now, she’s still that same, little spoiled lion she is.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ GEPARD

about [name] [name] is my significant other – how i was able to catch their eye? i don’t know. sometimes, i doubt my ability to love, especially with my role as the captain of the silvermane guards. but whenever those thoughts appear in my mind, [name] is there to quell my uneasy mind.

chat: family the way [name] treats lynx makes me feel… funny. i can’t really describe it but my heart beats whenever they entertain my little sister. oh, and don’t even get me started with how serval treats them. *sigh* what should i do to ease this beating heart of mine?

chat: de-stress ways on how to de-stress? well, after a long day i am usually greeted with the embrace of my beloved once i step into our abode… then after that i’m littered with- o-oh.. apologies. i was supposed to give advice. let’s start over again, shall we?

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ JIAOQIU

about [name] [name]? you want to now about them? well you see, as general feixiao’s doctor, it is important for me to have assistants whenever patients visit the clinic in a time when i am tending to duties involving her – this is where my dear [name] comes in. they’ve been with me from the start; us being classmates in the medicinal school we attended and all that. they’re easily one of the very dearest people in my life. most people only know them as my assistant due to their preference of upholding a “low-profile”; of course, i am very much alright with it. but when time comes and they’re ready to reveal our bond to the world, i’ll be the happiest man in the whole entire cosmos.

chat: sweets oh? you liked the sweets i gave you? well, you have my dear [name] to thank. they’re quite the connoisseur when it comes to making them. speaking of sweets, i forgot to mention we have a pastry shop in aurum alley. if you’re able to drop by, i’ll consider giving you a bundle of sweets, and probably other pastries, free of charge.

chat: coriander whatever you do, please do not hand me a bunch of coriander. i will absolutely lose my mind having to deal with a coriander-obsessed lover.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ARGENTI

about [name] my love for [name] transcends even the distant stars of the cosmos. my heart, my soul, and my own being belong to them.

chat: roses roses are my beloved’s favourite flowers, as they are mine. every morning, i wake from my peaceful slumber to see my dear tending to the beds of flowers with a gentle smile on their face that makes me fall in love all over again. *sigh* i miss them so much, trailblazer.. please bring me back to my ship. i would like to sink into my lover’s embrace at this moment.

chat: baking my beloved takes time to make my preference for thick baguettes each and every morning. while it warms me to receive such a valuable gift, i am not sure if i am deserving of their unconditional love for i am just a mere knight of beauty, idiotically searching for the goddess i’ve devoted myself to.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ MOZE

about [name] i am [name]’s lover. i am bound to them by fate and affection which is why you shouldn’t come close to them — unless you’d like to request an audience with the weapon in my hand.

chat: shadow [name] gets frightened whenever i appear randomly — jiaoqiu tells me it’s a normal reaction as he too, gets startled whenever i show my face to him. although.. im not quite sure how my sudden appearance has them stunned...

chat: cleaning [name] and i share the same hobby of cleaning. whenever i am relieved of my duties assigned by the general, i watch them- no. they tell me of the rather… unconventional ways of cleaning our abode.

tagging: @ayrastv, @whatisnerotypical, @lia-loves

🐈‍⬛: thank you for reading! reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!

if you'd like to be part of my taglist, please access the gform below! thank you and hope to see you <3

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i2sunric · 7 months ago

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𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃 (hyung line) — PART 2

WARNINGS: gang bang (fivesome), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), cream pie, blowjob, handjob, p in v, anal sex, deepthroat, rough sex (but not really), cum swallowing, manhandling, pet names (baby, doll, angel, slut), lmk if more → PART 1

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @seunghancore @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries

a/n: i wanted to make a part 2 but i don’t really like how it came out. please LIKE & REBLOG and lemme know your thoughts <3

After the last time, you grew closer to Heeseung’s band mates, occasionally pleasuring them, but only if your boyfriend was in sight. After all, you didn’t want to cheat.

However, Heeseung had to lie if he said seeing you stuffed full of his best friends’ cocks wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever seen, he could get off just by the sight.

Which was why he decided to bring you with him during the new tour.

All four men were full of adrenaline after the concerts, never ready to sleep right away.

They’d come back in the hotel and go straight to yours and Heeseung’s shared room.

You were ready, laying on the bed wearing the white and pinkish lingerie set you knew made Heeseung go beast mode.

Heeseung smirked, dropping his back and walking toward you “All ready for us, mh?”

You bit your bottom lip and nodded, your gaze going from your boyfriend to his three best friends, all watching you with primal desire.

Jake’s hand went to touch your breasts, folding them in his fingers, making you let out a small moan.

“So pretty.” Sunghoon commented “Get on all fours, doll.”

And who were you to disobey? You quickly sat up and then turned around, so you could get on all fours on the fluffy sheets.

Soon, they all had their pants and boxers long forgotten on the floor as you licked their tips.

Sunghoon and Jake stood in front of you while Heeseung decided to have the honour to fuck you first.

You teased Sunghoon’s cock with your tongue, swirling it around the mushroom tip while you pumped Jake’s hard-on with your hand.

Jay stood by your side, watching the scene unfold right in front of his eyes as he palmed his cock, not wanting to pleasure himself too much and spoil the fun.

“Look at you.” Heeseung said, pushing himself into you without a single warning, making you gasp and take all of Sunghoon’s cock down your throat “Such a good slut for us.”

You clenched around Heeseung, the intrusion of his big dick making your nose scrunch as you tried to blow Sunghoon. The sound of your moans sent vibrations through all of his body, making his hips unconsciously buck.

Jake fucked your fist, his hips moving at a messy speed, just like he was always eager to release rather than enjoying the moment.

“Come on Y/N.” He said “Suck me off too.” And without needing a second request, you shifted your mouth from Sunghoon’s tip to Jake’s, swirling a mixture of your spit and the other’s precum on his dick.

“Fuck.” Heeseung groaned from behind you “Your pussy is so tight angel, squeezing my cock so well.”

You hummed, making Jake’s head fall back “I swear you’re like the goddess of sex.”

Jay walked closer to the bed until he kneeled on the mattress, one hand slapping your ass while the other went to play with your clit, stimulating you even more.

Jake gripped the back of your head and shoved his cock deep inside your throat, you could feel it twitch and drops of salty pre-cum drip down it.

You rolled your eyes back and concentrated on not to let the gagging reflex get the best of you as tears ruined your mascara.

“You look so fucking good.” Sunghoon growled, caressing your shoulder as he fucked your fist, seeing how you weren’t able to give him a handjob with two cocks filling your holes “All ruined.”

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” Jake panted “I’m gonna cum, I don’t wanna—“

Before he could even finish his sentence you had hollowed your cheeks and reached one hand to squeeze his balls, making him groan out and empty his load in your throat.

“Shit, baby.” He huffed “I didn’t want to cum so soon.”

You pulled away and licked any drop of cum that escaped your lips, smirking “You always do.”

When you were about to take Sunghoon’s cock in your mouth, Jay said “Nah ah.” And Heeseung pulled out of you.

You let out a complaining noise and Jay manhandled you, lying on the mattress with his back resting on the headboard.

He gently guided you down on his shaft, your hands resting on his shoulders.

A figure hovered behind you, the familiar scent of musk and sweat filling your nostrils.

Heeseung’s breath fanned over your ear “How tight is this hole, mh?” He asked, pressing himself against your ass.

You shuddered, leaning against one of his shoulders as Jay slowly moved your body up and down, making you bounce on him.

“Can I?” He asked, pressing soft kisses down your jaw. You closed your eyes and nodded, your mind already cloudy with lust and desire.

“Good girl.” He murmured, Sunghoon’s icy hand came to spread your asscheeks as Heeseung slowly slid his tip inside your asshole.

You let out a whimper, your eyes squeezing shut as your pussy did the same around Jay.

“Breathe, Y/N.” Heeseung whispered, kissing and sucking on your neck to distract you.

You nodded and tried to take deep breaths as Heeseung pushed all of himself inside your asshole, the stretch was painful yet so sweet combined to Jay’s steady thrusts.

You moaned out loud, rolling your eyes back as they moved together, filling you up to the brim.

“You like it?” Sunghoon asked “You like it, having your holes filled, don’t you, doll?”

You nodded “Like it.” You breathed out “S’full.”

“Yeah?” Sunghoon stood on the mattress “How about how?” He asked, shoving his dick inside your mouth.

You moaned around him, sending waves of vibration on his twitching length.

“S-shit.” Heeseung hissed “So good.”

Jake watched the scene from the edge of the bed, his cock hard again as he jerked himself.

Jay gripped your hips and lifted you slightly, his hips jerking up at a fast pace, his tip hitting your cervix.

“I’m so close, angel.” Heeseung panted, his hips thrusting so harshly, making your body move as you sucked Sunghoon off.

“Good fucking slut.” Jay groaned, cock twitching inside of you, so close to the edge with the way your pussy was clenching around him, knowing you were close to your euphoria as well.

You pulled away Sunghoon’s cock and jerked him off with your hand “Fuck!” You moaned out loud “So good.”

“Shit, Shit.” Sunghoon removed himself from your hand as he shot his load all over your chest, pulling you into a heated make out session that you reciprocated with difficulty.

Truthfully, you were just panting in his mouth while his tongue swirled all around yours, still feeling the aftertaste of Jake’s seed.

Heeseung’s hips also stuttered, cumming deep inside your ass at the same time Jay hit your sweet stop, making your body shudder in release.

Jay fried to hold it back but he wasn’t quick enough to pull out, emptying his load inside of your warm cunt.

You three rode out of your orgasms and then you laid on Jay’s chest, spent.

“What the fuck, man? I told you not to come inside of her.” Heeseung groaned, brows furrowed in anger.

Jay’s breath was still uneven, drops of sweat falling down his forehead “I’m sorry. I didn’t pull out in time.”

“Well, pull out now!” He snapped, making you raise your hand in protest.

You gave him a wary look and slowly lifted yourself off Jay, his cum dripping out of your pussy onto his softened cock.

You moaned and turned around, flopping down on the mattress “I think that was pretty hot.”

“But I’m your boyfriend.” Heeseung frowned. You stared up at him with half-lidded eyes “Yes, you are.”

“So? Aren’t you mad he literally just—“ You shushed hum by nudging his knee with your foot “I’m not mad. I’m on the pill and surely won’t get pregnant by one of your friend’s cream pie.” You chuckled weakly.

Heeseung sighed “Alright,” He gulped “Sorry, Jay.”

“No worries.” Jay shrugged “I get it.”

Heeseung’s gaze fell onto your pussy, the way Jay’s cum mixed with your own wetness had made a mess on the sheets.

And lord if it wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever witnessed— his cock slowly hardened again, twitching in front of him.

You raised a brow at him, “Actually.” He cleared his throat “Why don’t we all take turns and cum inside of you, angel?”

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yeoningz · 11 days ago

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𝓑US𝓣 𝓨𝓞UR 𝓚N𝓔𝓔 𝓒A𝓟S 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 방찬

you can't seem to get away from your ex husband, no matter how hard you try.

⧼ 🩹 ⧽ 一 𝓹a𝓲r𝓲n𝓰 ⸝⸝⸝ ex husband!bang chan 𝓍 fem!reader 𝓲nc𝓵u𝓭e𝓼 ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ unnamed oc daughter

𝓰e𝓷𝓻e ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ non-idol au, smut, angst, porn with plot

𝔀arn𝓲n𝓰𝓼 ⸝⸝⸝ dubcon, street fighter and underground boxer!chan, criminal!chan, mentions of jail and gangs, graphic descriptions of blood and injury, toxic and possessive behavior, toxic ex!chan, manipulation, explicit language and sexual content, soft dom!chan, degredation and praise kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampies, dirty talk, breeding kink, impregnation mentions, clit slapping, daddy kink, squirting 𝔀𝓸r𝓭 c𝓸un𝓽. 6. 2 k | ⧼ 🥊 ⧽ 一 𝓽𝓸 𝓵i𝓫rar𝔂.

♫ 𝓫u𝓼𝓽 𝔂𝓸ur 𝓴nee ca𝓹𝓼 ❪ 𝓳o𝓱nn𝔂 𝓭on'𝓽 𝓵eave 𝓶e ❫ 一 𝓹𝓸m𝓹𝓵am𝓸𝓸𝓼e

[n𝓸𝓽e𝓼.] my first fic on my new blog! something shorter to start out with <3 this took me a little too long to write i'm afraid since it's my first go at angst themes but i'm pretty proud of how this turned out! this isn't proofread, so please lmk if there are any mistakes! feedback is greatly appreciated <3

THE KNOCK ON THE door makes your heart fall to the pit of your stomach, cutting through the peaceful quiet of your kitchen like a knife. You drop the pot you were scrubbing in shock, clanging loudly as you grip the edges of the sink in a futile attempt to calm the pounding of your heart. At first you think— hope— that you were simply just hearing things, your little skyline apartment falling back into an uncertain silence sprinkled with the pouring rain outside, an atmosphere that no longer felt comfortable. But the knocking starts again, loud enough to be mistaken as thunder, ringing in your ears like alarm bells. You nearly jump out of your skin, your hands shaking as they reach out to turn off the water faucet. There’s only one person who would ever show up at your door this late at night, and you’ve done everything you possibly could to avoid him for the past four months.

It couldn’t possibly be him. It had to be someone else, your landlord or a neighbor or a maintenance man or anyone. You hadn’t told him your new address, hadn’t spoken to him since the day you packed up your daughter and what little you had and left him, never looking back. But you hadn’t called for maintenance, and you hadn’t heard from your landlord, and the way that his fist beat on the door as if it had somehow offended him was unmistakable.

You consider, for a split, mindless moment, that you could simply ignore him. He’s just a man, after all— a weak, spineless one at that, underneath that intimidating façade he loves to hide behind. He’ll give up and leave eventually, you try to convince yourself, but you know him far too well to fall into that blind hope. The knocking only gets louder and more aggressive to the point that you begin to worry that he’ll wake the baby.

The thought alone is enough to get your blood boiling, a red-hot anger overtaking any amount of fear or trepidation that kept you back. You refused to let this coward affect your daughter, wake her up without a single thought or care when you had just spent hours gently rocking her to sleep. Not after everything you’ve went through to keep him away from her.

You hurl the sponge into the sink with a scowl before spinning around and storming to the door. You wrench it open mid-knock, leaving the man on the other side of it standing there with his fist outstretched and blinking at you owlishly.

The sight of him shocks you to your core, despite how much you had tried to prepare yourself— blood drips into his bruised, swollen eye from a large cut on his forehead, just barely visible behind his wet hair sticking to his skin. The rain washes it away, down his chin to drip onto your welcome mat, staining it a faded red in the outline of his scuffed sneakers. He’s drenched down to the bone, the sharp ridges of his pecs and abs visible through his white tee shirt, the thin dark jacket he had draped across his shoulders doing little to protect him from the ever-worsening downpour. His dominant hand he curls protectively against his bloody abdomen; the knuckles are busted, and his pinky finger is twisted unnaturally to the side.

You look back up to his face just in time for him to flash you a weak, wobbly smile, a wounded ghost of the ones that used to send your heart soaring and fill your stomach with butterflies. His plump bottom lip is split down the middle, a jagged crater that threatens to open even further with every movement he made.

“Hey.” he croons, dropping his fist to his side, pained little smile dropping into more of a wince.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” you hiss venomously, praying to any god that would listen that he couldn’t tell how badly you were shaking. “How the fuck did you get my address? Go away before I call the cops. I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

“Come on, baby, wait—” you try to slam the door shut, but he catches it with ease, and even one-handed he’s stronger than you could ever hope to be.

“Don’t fucking call me that, Christopher. Answer my question.” You sneer, biting back hot, painful tears.

If any of your words hurt him, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he extends his wounded hand, prying open his fingers with some effort to present you a bloody, crumpled wad of bills.

“For her.” He says simply.

Your eyes rake over the bills as if they were alien, hardly able to muster up the breath needed to scoff at him incredulously. “I don’t want your dirty money.”

You had a sneaking suspicion of just exactly where he had gotten that money from, it was written all over his busted, bleeding face— under no circumstances would you line your pockets with the bettings from street fights, feed and clothe your daughter with money that people had shed blood for. You had told him this when you had left him, given him the choice to leave it all behind or lose everything.

He chose the streets, and you kept your promise.

Yet you don’t have the strength to slam the door in his face, no matter how much you ached with the desire. Chan keeps the bills outstretched, the blood-smeared faces printed on them winking up at you, taunting you.

“Who told you where I live.”

“…A friend. Please, just take it.” He whispers, just short of begging. “I know how badly you need it. He told me you were struggling.”

“You don’t know anything.” you spit, but there’s no fire behind your words anymore. The rain has put it out, left you defeated, feeling betrayed, admiring how the streaks of lightning illuminate Chan’s hunched over silhouette. Your mind wracks itself for whichever one of his goons could have possibly caught sight of you, but you come up empty. You fear he may have found you through an inside source.

Thunder booms in the distance, much like your heart. The helpless, desperate look in Chan’s big brown eyes sends the rest of your defenses crumbling to dust.

he tries to shuffle his way inside, and you let him— everything inside of you yells at you to stop him, shove him away and close the door, never to look at him again. But you don’t. You slide submissively to the side, open the creaking door open further for him to step into your living room. No matter how hard you try to convince your muscles to move or your mouth to open and retort, all you can do is stand frozen by the door, watching with wide eyes as he drips blood onto the carpet.

He tosses the stack of cash onto the coffee table, the bills unfurling and flying everywhere. You count six, maybe seven million won, all those zeroes staring up at you as your mouth goes agape.

You had been losing sleep for days over having to tell your landlord that you would be late on rent for the third time this year. Somehow, you feel like Chris knows that, though it was impossible to tell how— it brought you back to all the times before where you swore that he could read your mind.

It seems that he still could, even out in those dark alleyways, on the other side of the city. Tethered to him. Just what you were afraid of.

“You’re getting blood everywhere,” you finally manage to say, your usually strong voice timid and weak. “at least let me clean you up.”

Mindlessly, you scamper back to your kitchen, bending down to rummage through the cabinet beneath the sink. your first aid kit was still in there somewhere, hidden behind a mountain of cleaning supplies and spare bottles, something from your old life that you had held on to just in case. It was as if you were moving in a trance, just sheer muscle memory, the situation all too familiar; you couldn’t count the amount of times Chan had come home just like this before, back when you were still together, beaten and staggering but grinning victoriously as you carefully clean and bandage him up. It used to excite you, even, in some sick, dark way. He never lost a fight.

But that was before you had gotten pregnant. Before the danger that lurked beneath the surface of your husband’s lifestyle creeped up on you and became all too real.

“I’m fine.” Chan replies gruffly, though the pain in his voice suggests otherwise. “I just want to see my baby girl.”

Your fingers freeze around the first aid kit, all the heat and color draining from your face. “You’re not seeing her.”

“You can’t keep me from her.” Chan replies coldly. “She’s my daughter, too.”

You jump to your feet so fast that your vision goes fuzzy, spinning around to watch with wild eyes as he balances his good hand on the wall and limps his way to the nursery. You hate how he still remembers where it is.

He smears a trail of blood across your tattered wallpaper. The sight of it shocks you into action.

“You get away from her!” You snarl, nearly leaping across the dining table to grab onto the sleeve of Chan’s jacket. “Don’t you dare go anywhere near her!”

He shoves you off effortlessly, his sheer strength nearly sending you flying back against the wall. “Stop acting like I’m going to hurt her.” He growls, making it to the nursery door in the time it takes for you to regain your senses. “You know I’d never let anyone lay a single fucking finger on her.”

He quietly cracks the door open and steps inside, leaving you to follow him biting your tongue— you can’t bear the thought of her waking up, especially now with Chan in the room. She hasn’t seen her father since she was born, and that was only because he had forced his way inside of the delivery room. He was essentially a stranger to her.

And, quite frankly, how she might react if she lays eyes on him again scares the shit out of you.

Chan staggers to the crib, quiet as a mouse, his large frame bending over the railings to look down into it. Your daughter lay on the mattress peacefully asleep, her little chest rising and falling with her soft, steady breaths. You’ve stared at her for hours before, studying every freckle, every wispy eyelash that brushed against her rosy, round cheeks. The way her nose is already starting to look like her father’s, his dimples forming around the upturned corners of her dainty little lips, always giving the impression that she was enjoying her dreams. Whatever they were, you took some comfort in knowing that they were, they’re better than what waits for her when she opens her eyes.

Chan is nothing short of entranced, grabbing ahold of the crib’s railings with both hands, so tightly that his cracked knuckles were threatening to split back open. He gazes at her sleeping little form with a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before— a fire burning, but not one that hurt or destroyed. Not anything like the fire in his eyes you were used to. It was one that warmed and protected, the watchful, dutiful stare of a weathered knight in armor.

Something warm and heady swirls in your gut, unwelcome but in no way unpleasant. You fixate on his face, unable to look away, and watch awe-stricken as your ex-husband refamiliarizes himself with his daughter’s face.

“She’s grown.” He whispers, undoubtedly able to feel you breathing over his shoulder. His voice is flat and lifeless, but it starts to break at the end— he blinks hard, and you swear for a second that you saw his eyes shiny with tears.

“Oh, she’s a monster.” You reply easily, the rampant emotions swirling around in your head calming down at the sight of your baby peacefully sleeping. Talking about her is soothing, almost therapeutic. “Always hungry. The doctor says she’ll be nearly nine kilograms by the time she’s six months.”

“My little girl… she was so tiny in my arms…” Chan laments, lowering his eyes to look down at his hands. It was like he was looking at someone else’s, shocked by the dirty, bloodied state of them. He suddenly wrenches them from the railings and shoves them in his soaked jacket pockets, the act causing him to grimace with pain. In the peripherals of your vision, you see faint bloody fingerprints smeared across the white wood.

You struggle to keep your voice calm. “She’s gotten so big so fast… it feels like that day was just yesterday.”

Chan’s gaze hardens and grows cold again, his head spinning to stare you down with an ironclad sharpness. “Not to me!” he spits, gritting his jaw. “Not when you wouldn’t let me ever fucking see her, wouldn’t tell me where you were, how you were doing. I’ve been looking for you two for months. How am I supposed to keep you safe, my baby safe? I had to track my family down like dogs. What kind of mother keeps a father away from their child?”

Your shoddy mask of calmness cracks, red hot anger flaring back up again and rising to the surface. Your voice trembles terribly, but the disgust in your words is palpable. “She’s not your fucking baby, Chris! That’s my baby. Mine. You made that call before she was even born. You’re not her family, you’re hardly even her father— you’re nothing to her.”

The last comment strikes a chord within him. He stalks towards you, his dark eyes boring into yours, all that stormy emotion churning in them focusing directly onto you. Chan isn’t exceptionally tall, but you feel so incredibly small underneath him; he looms over you like some kind of predator, his lip curling back into a nasty snarl. “I’m nothing to her because you made it that way.” He seethes, his deep voice growing louder and louder. “Don’t you ever try to put it in my baby’s head that I don’t love her. Stop trying to convince yourself, for fuck’s sake— you both are absolutely everything to me, you know that. Everything that I do is for our future.”

You scoff. “If you really care that much about “our future”, you would have stopped this. Fighting for these clubs. The racing, the gangs. You would have listened to me and left it all behind, gotten a real job. Show me that you actually give a shit and aren’t just blowing smoke up my ass. You’re addicted to this, all of it. It’s sick.”

“You don’t fucking get it, do you?” Chan sneers, shoving his face up against yours. “You just can’t get it into your dumb, pretty little head. What kind of “real job” is gonna take an ex-con? Even if they do, I wouldn’t make nearly as much money as I can out on the streets. All I want to do is provide for you and our daughter; can’t you see that? I’m doing what I have to do to survive. My own future is fucking ruined. You two are all I have left.”

“And you’ll ruin ours too!” you laugh incredulously, directly in his face. “With all your blood money and all the enemies you make. You’re going to get arrested and locked up again, destroy mine and my daughter’s lives— fuck, you’ll get us all fucking killed! What if someone you beat wants revenge?! These are dangerous people, Chris!”

“That’s what I’m trying to protect you from!!” Chan roars, slamming his fist against the crib’s guardrail. His voice and the loud thump startles you, all three of you— you and Chan both peer down into the crib to see your daughter’s peaceful sleeping face screw up, her mouth opening to let out a shrill wail as she kicks out her little chubby legs.

Chan’s face falls, all the bitterness and anger leaving his body in a rush, like he had a bucket of cold water poured over the head. He looks the part, anyway, still dripping wet from the rain, tearing his eyes away from your own to stare down at your daughter as if she were a ghost. Your rage overtakes you to the point it can no longer contain it, your entire body shaking as you manage to grit out two icy words;

“Get out.”

Surprisingly, he does. He takes one last long look at your fussing daughter before slowly turning and shuffling out of the nursery. Your eyes bore holes into his back as he retreats, expecting him to turn around at any moment with some more nasty words to sling your way… but he never does. He stays completely silent as he shoulders open the door, doesn’t even turn to look back at you as it clicks shut behind him.

Part of you wants to follow him, chase him out snarling and snapping like some guard dog, but your daughter’s frightened little cries tug painfully at your heart strings. Tears of your own pool in your eyes as you carefully lift her out of her cot and snuggle her against your chest, soothing your hand down her quivering back as she hiccups into your sweater. “Shhh, it’s okay… you’re safe, Mommy’s got you…”

You rock her until she falls asleep again, fighting the entire time not to break out into sobs yourself, and when you finally place her back down into her crib and slip out of the nursery, you’re not at all surprised to see Chan still in your apartment, hunched over on the couch with his head in his hands.

Your apartment looks like a fucking crime scene. For the first time tonight you’re able to take everything in, all the blood dripped on the floor and smeared on the walls. All the muddy shoeprints and puddles of rainwater. The cabinets under the sink are still swung open, your first aid kit left forgotten on the kitchen floor.

You don’t have the energy to be mad at Chan anymore, your gaze lingering back on his weathered frame. You don’t have the energy to feel anything except empty. Depleted.

Wordlessly, you pick the first aid kit off the floor and make your way to Chan. He lets you cup his face without a fight, raise it out of his hands so you can dab an alcohol pad against the cut on his forehead. The sting makes him wince, but he doesn’t try to move away, looking up at you with eyes full of stars as you wipe away the dried blood from his skin. The dim lamp by the couch cast dark shadows across his handsome face, bathing him in a sensual, intimate light. You can’t bear to look back into them, the way they make your heart twist painfully in your chest, deep chocolate brown so effortless to get lost in. You busy yourself with bandaging up his forehead, and then his lip, and then his busted hand.

“Why are you doing this?” Chan whispers softly, the question making you stop in your tracks.

“I… don’t know.” You admit after a long pause. You do it without thinking, just like when he first stepped inside. Your natural response after seeing him hurt so many times before, playing nurse while he boasts to you about his triumphs, fills you with empty promises and proclamations of love. Your hero, swearing to you that you were his savior. Everything in you still aches to soothe him, heal his wounds and numb his pain, be his guardian angel like you used to be before his suffering became your own.

If he were addicted to the fighting, you would be addicted to what came after.

“I know you still love me.” Chan professes boldly, a wild spark in his eye. “I know you do, baby— you know I love you too. More than anything. Why won’t you let this— us—work? Why are you trying to run away from me?”

Your fingers pause in the middle of wrapping up his knuckles in gauze, quivering slightly as you let out an agonized sigh. “It’s not about whenever or not I love you, Chris. I have to put our daughter first. I have to make sure she’ll be safe and happy.”

You barely manage to finish bandaging up his hand, your knotting work far from the best. The minute you let go of him he pulls you right back, his big hands enveloping yours and squeezing tightly. “She will be, I promise. I’ll keep both of you safe, never let anything happen to either of you— I’ve got the means to keep you protected no matter what happens. You’re my everything… I’m so lost without you.”

His bandaged hand slides up to caress your cheek, his skin so bitterly cold. “Channie…” you warn, but you’re the weakest you’ve been all night. Chan can see it in your eyes.

“I was so fucking worried about you.” He continues softly, hushed like he was kneeling for confession. “I’ve missed you so bad… please, baby, don’t ever leave me like that again.”

Breaking feels a lot like letting go. Dropping all your fear and worry, any semblance of rational thought to finally allow yourself to nuzzle into Chan’s touch. He knows you too well, always knows exactly what to say to get your walls to come crashing down, what to do to when the smoke clears and you’re left defenseless amongst the rubble. Because, underneath all the piling resentment and hatred, the divorce, the distance you’ve been fighting for, you truly do still love him. You fear you always will.

Your eyes flutter closed as you bask in Chan’s affection, preen under his loving gaze and delight in the way he cradles you as if you were made of glass— you feel so precious yet so fragile, yielding to a man strong enough to shatter you completely, leave you nothing but a pile of dust and broken shards.

You’ve never felt safer.

“God, you’re so pretty…” he whispers awestruck, under his breath almost as if he were talking to himself. His thumb maps out the curve of your cheekbone, down, down, down to your pliant, pouting lips. The pad of it is hardened and calloused, rough against the soft skin of your bottom lip, but the sensation leaves you aching for more; you open your eyes to bat your eyelashes up at him, open your mouth to invite his thumb to creep inside.

The flash of carnal, animalistic lust in his eyes sends a wave of liquid fire coursing through you, down your spine to where it pools heavy in your belly. You purse your lips around his thumb and suck it in deeper, hollowing your cheeks as if you were sucking on something else entirely. Chan groans deep in his chest, his other fingers curling tight around your chin to pull you towards him. “Fuck. Come here, babygirl.”

You surge forward to capture your lips with his, and he meets you halfway; the pillow softness of his lips are hauntingly familiar against yours, yet somehow they feel completely brand new, like uncharted territory in a land you’ve ventured in countless times before. Any chastity is quickly tossed to the side with the heady sensation of his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, the warmth in your belly heightening into a wild swirl. You’re shocked by your own eager response, opening up immediately to let him ravish your mouth with a forceful domination that left you weak. He pulls you effortlessly onto his lap, your legs spreading to wrap instinctively around his waist, the closeness of your bodies maddening. Your blood pounded in your ears, leapt from your heart with a scalding fire, and made your body tremble, senses reeling as if you had short-circuited. Clashing emotions whirled around in your head, but your consciousness had left you the minute your lips made contact with his. All you can think of is how passionately Chan devoured you, the force of his kiss almost punishing, like a soldering heat that bonds metal. Yet it felt like anything but a punishment, doused in a honeyed sweetness that called to you like a drug, dragged you under the waves of dreamy tenderness, filled your head with thoughts of how good it would feel to let yourself drown.

You kiss him back with reckless abandon, hands reaching out to hold him, anywhere you possibly can— the wispy hairs at the base of his neck, the worn leather of his jacket, the grooves of his defined muscles through the fabric of his wet tee shirt. He crushes you against him, swallows you within his big beefy arms, one of his hands running down the small of your waist to grab a fat handful of your ass. You gasp against his mouth as his touches grow bolder, massaging the globes of your ass and guiding your hips to glide against his. The outline of his half-hard cock pokes at you through his jeans, growing thicker and stiffer with every passing second, pressed perfectly against the curve of your cunt. Your sleep pants are thin enough to where it feels like you’re wearing nothing at all, and when Chan cants his hips up his bulge grinds right against your clit. He does it again, and again, until you’re squirming helplessly against him, panting and moaning into his mouth.

“Chan, we can’t do this…” you manage to stutter out between kisses, the reality of the situation finally beginning to dawn on you again. But Chan ignores your plea, his lips leaving yours to sear a path down your neck and shoulders. He nibbles at your skin, kisses the pulsing hollow at the base of your throat, distracting you enough to slide one of his hands to cup your pussy.

“Yes we can.” He croons against your heated skin, hot tongue escaping between his lips to lick a tantalizing stripe up your neck. “I can feel how wet this pussy is, baby, how needy you are for me. Just let me in, princess, let me take care of you…”

He slides his fingers down your covered slit, your clothes sticking to your mound with your sopping juices, drenched to the point you can’t possibly hide your arousal. Your engorged clit aches, empty hole clenches around nothing… you whimper pathetically in defeat.

“Come on, say it. Say you want me.”

You really were nothing but an addict. Addicted to the power he holds over you.

“fuck, oh f-fuck— right there!”

Chan knows every single spot inside of you to make you scream, his thick cock hitting each one expertly with each of his powerful thrusts. The angle he has you bent in makes you see stars, his big rough hands clasped tight around your ankles to push your legs up against your chest and spread you wide open— he’s never fucked you this roughly before, his feet planted on the mattress to pound into you animalistically, but even then there’s still a bitter tenderness to the way he holds you up against him, gazes down at you in rapture as you fall apart beneath him.

“Yeah? Right there?” He coos, deep Aussie accent dripping with poisoned honey, “Feel me all the way in your tummy, baby? Feel this fat cock splitting you open? Fuck, you’re so tight, sucking me in. Greedy little cunt.” He lets go of one of your ankles to press down on the bulge he’s made in your belly, your trembling leg curling over his shoulder in ecstasy as the pressure in your core increases.

“So deep!” you hiccup stupidly in reply, fisting the sheets as your world explodes and shatters behind your eyelids. His bulbous cockhead slams repeatedly against your cervix in a punishing rhythm, so deep inside of you that you mindlessly fear that he’s pushed through and was fucking your womb. “Deep! S-so fucking big!”

Chan growls like a beast, his efforts doubling in speed and intensity, “Missed this cock, didn’t you, princess? God, listen to how fucking wet you are. Hear how badly this cunt needed me?”

He emphasizes his claim with a particularly harsh thrust, your pussy squelching obscenely around him and filling your dark, quiet bedroom with loud, filthy noises. “C’mon, tell Daddy how badly you missed this.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you worry that you’ll wake up the baby again. Chan fucks you loudly and shamelessly, like he doesn’t care that your daughter sleeps in the room just across the hall... the thought reignites your anger. You want to accost him, defy him, tell him that you didn’t miss him at all. That you weren’t desperate for him to make you cum and finally leave you satisfied after months of frustration. That you didn’t think of him at night when you played with yourself, or when you took another man to your bed, because as much as it agonizes you no other man has ever made you feel as good as he does. But you couldn’t string the words together, could hardly even think with how pleasure coursed through every fiber of your being. Besides, Chan knows when you’re lying.

“M-missed your c-cock,” you admit between whimpers and moans, your face burning with shame and arousal. “M-missed Daddy’s cock so fucking much, needed it so bad— oh, fuck, Chris, Daddy, please—!”

Chan snatches your hips and tugs you roughly towards him, lifting your bottom half up off the bed to fuck into you impossibly deeper. Your mouth falls open in a gasp of sweet agony, arching your back and tossing your head against the pillows. The show of sheer strength gets you impossibly wetter, your juices coating his heavy balls as they clap wetly against your ass. “Good pussy.” He grunts, his fingers digging bruising indents into the flesh of your waist. “Love this pretty little pussy— gonna fuck it ‘til it’s molded to my cock. Gonna ruin you for anyone except for me. This cunt belongs to me, doesn’t it, baby? God, look at you… taking it like such a good girl.”

His words make your head spin, a searing need building in your core, molten lava beneath your skin heating your thighs and groin. It feels divine, better than you ever remember… but it’s not enough to send you over the edge, give you that release you crave so desperately. “Need more,” you keen, “More, Daddy, please!”

“Greedy girl.” Chan chuckles darkly, the sound going straight to your cunt. “Tell me what you need, baby, and I’ll give it to you.”

You can’t respond, fucked so stupid you don’t know what you’re begging for— Chan tsks like he’s disappointed, letting go of your hips with one hand to grab a rough fistful of your hair. He tugs your head up to look at him, dark eyes dripping with lust and delicious dominance; you struggle to keep your eyes open, your vision swimming and your eyelids drooping from the onslaught of pleasure Chan continues to pound into you. “Too dumb on cock to speak? C’mon, pretty girl, tell Daddy what you want him to do to you.”

He tugs on your hair again, pain erupting across your scalp. It blends with your pleasure to create a heady, dizzying cocktail of ecstasy. You cry out in delight, letting go of the bedsheets to scramble for something sturdier to hold on to, ground you— your hands find purchase on your own tits, bouncing with Chan’s thrusts, and you knead the plump flesh with a wanton sob, your fingers twisting and pinching at your nipples hard enough to make you shake.

“My clit!” you finally manage to whimper out, broken and pathetic. “My clit, my clit— touch me, touch my clit, please!”

He does as he promised, leaning back to spit messily on your clit before letting go of your hair to circle the bud with his thumb. Your head falls back limply onto the pillows, hazy eyes rolling back in your head as you sob and hiccup in uncontrollable pleasure.

“Gettin’ close, babygirl? I can feel it, pussy squeezing me so tight— I’m close too, fuck, gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you!” Chan’s thrusts grow sloppy, his chest heaving as he pants open-mouthed like a dog. “How about that, hm? Want me to put another baby inside of you? So everyone knows not to touch what’s mine? I’ll breed this pussy so fucking full you’ll be dripping my cum for days…”

His words should scare you, should break whatever spell he’s put you under and have you begging him to pull out. But you’ve slipped away from reality, floating mindlessly in an erotic fantasy you’ve convinced yourself is too good to be true. You don’t want to wake up, don’t want to think about what lies ahead of you once Chan leaves your bed once again. You babble and beg for his cum, for him to bring you to your own climax, scratching deep red marks into his chest. They look at home amongst all the bruises.

“Tell me you love me.” Chan grunts abruptly, the rhythm of his thrusts slowing down to barely moving, his cock dragging along your gummy walls deliciously buy far too slowly.

You blink up at him in shock and confusion. “H-huh?”

“Tell me you love me and I’ll make you cum.” He repeats, his eyes boring into yours, a knowing look in his eyes like he can see into your soul. “I love you so much, and I’m gonna show it with all this cum I’m gonna pump into this sweet cunt… don’t you love me too? Just say it and I’ll give you what you want, what you need…”

You’re just on the precipice of orgasm, teetering on the edge but unable to push yourself over, and your poor heart feels so exposed and raw… you can’t help but relent to him, succumb to his desires like you always do.

“I love you! I-I love you, Channie, Daddy, love you s-so much— ah!!”

His hips pick up to a speed that seems nearly superhuman, rutting into you wildly like an animal in heat as he grunts and groans, pinches your clit hard between his thumb and forefinger to make you scream. It feels so good, too good, and big watery tears roll down your cheeks as your body begins to vibrate with your orgasm. You’ve never cried during sex before.

“Let go, my love.” Chan croons, slapping your clit lightly. “Let it all out…”

Your orgasm hits you like a tsunami, a tidal wave of explosive hysteria— with a shriek you squirt everywhere, all over Chan’s hand, belly, thighs, creamy droplets flying with every nasty wet thrust. Your gummy walls spasm around his cock, sucking him in deeper as if to ensure you milk him dry. “That’s it, babygirl, cum for daddy!” Chan howls, intent on talking you through it even as he creeps closer and closer to climax himself. “Fuck yes, such a good girl, making a mess for me— gonna cum now, too, gonna breed this pussy! Ready for it? Gonna take it all, right princess?”

“Yes! Yesyesyes, please, please! Give it to me, daddy!”

He shoots his load deep inside of you with an animalistic growl, hot and thick painting your walls creamy white. It feels never ending, fat cock twitching with every spurt of seed he dumps into your womb, filling you up so much that thick globs of it spills out around him and drips down his balls to mix with the puddle forming on the soaked bedsheets. His legs give out and he collapses against you, gasping for breath with his face buried in your chest; you wrap your weak, trembling arms around his neck, and the two of you dissolve into breathless giggles as you slowly grind against each other ride out your highs. When Chan finally pulls out you see a foamy white ring around the base of his softening cock, sticking in his pubes.

You can feel your spent cunt leak his seed, dripping down your ass— Chan stares at in in awe, his fingers sliding up your sensitive folds to collect it and push it back inside.

“So beautiful…” he whispers, grinning as he admires your creamy bred pussy. His fingers at your hole makes you whimper in overstimulation, and you try to close your legs and squirm away, making him laugh. His eyes crinkle in that adorable way you hate to love so much. “You’re so beautiful.”

You don’t have the heart to make him leave, not when he runs you a warm bath and cleans you up so nicely. Not when he strips the bed and changes the sheets for you so you can lay comfortably, holding you close and whispering sweet nothings into your hair. Not as he promises to you that he’ll change, that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you in his arms, that white picket fences are just over the horizon. You feel weightless, floating, satisfied… and that makes you feel sick.

S𝒯RA𝒴 K𝒾DS 𝒯A𝒢L𝒾S𝒯 ⪼ @enigmaticaphrodite , @jellymochii , @dwaekkicidal , @11vr1 , @yunverie, @arcturus444, @love-ning

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jayke0 · 9 months ago

Text

Bunk Up

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem reader

Summary: Arthur invites you on a hunting trip, but you foolishly forget your tent. No harm done, you can bunk up with him, right?

Rating: nsfw, smut

Warnings/Content: a deer gets killed (camp's gotta eat), female masturbation, dry humping, fingering, p in v, breeding kink if you squint, unprotected sex, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).

Word count: 3,132

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.

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Why in god's green earth had you agreed to go on this hunting trip again?

Oh yeah, because you have a hard-on for Arthur Morgan… figuratively, that is.

It'd be alright if you could just tell him your feelings, but you'd prided yourself on liking more respectable, more rich men in the past; that's the easiest way to make a living, at the end of the day. You'd originally intended to go for the gang leader, but that man is oblivious and stubborn as hell, not to mention not actually rich, much to your displeasure.

Then Arthur had introduced himself to you. His stupid snarky remarks and silly outfits and disgustingly beautiful eyes all seemed to merge together into this gorgeous man that loomed in front of you and had your knees almost buckling.

Even worse, he'd noticed the way your demeanour changed and how your body seemed to crumble under the weight of his soft eyes.

“Hey! Are you even listenin’ to me?” His gruff voice breaks you from your trance.

“ ‘course I am, I always listen to your wise words, Mr Morgan.” You remark, looking up at him from the position you'd had your eyes trained on seconds ago. “Yeah, sure.” You feel his rough fingertips turn your chin back towards the deer in front of you, a gesture that makes heat rise in your cheeks all the way to the tips of your ears.

“Take the shot, you got a perfect shot there, can't miss it.”

The cold varnished wood cools your warm cheeks as you bring it close to your face and grit your teeth.

“Always shoot on empty lungs.” His whisper sends shivers down your spine before you take the shot, a loud crack echoing through the trees as a clatter of birds ascends into the sky.

“You did good! That was perfect.” A soft grunt leaves his throat as he gets up and checks the prey. “Think Pearson will make a good meal outta this,” his eyes then meet yours. “Good girl.” he tips his hat to you.

Damn Arthur Morgan, with that shit eating grin that makes your stomach flutter.

“You know I ain't one for pickin’ on people–” Arthur starts, shoveling chunks of peaches in his mouth, “but I don't think I've ever seen someone forget their tent on a huntin’ trip.”

“Ok, for one, you're always picking on people, ‘specially if you don't like ‘em. And for two… just– shut the hell up.” You pull your coat tighter around your body to shield yourself from the cold rain drizzling down your neck, the soft fur bringing you some warmth and comfort to your otherwise shaking body.

“Easy girl, don't be gettin’ mad at me now. Besides, it means you get to share a tent with me, ain't that a dream?” A simple grumble from you makes the man chuckle lowly. “I won't take that personally.”

It was a dream, and you hated admitting that.

Luckily, you'd remembered your bed roll, so at least you didn't have to snuggle up under the cotton sheets with your rugged partner… but, admittedly, a small part of you is disappointed at that.

You try to forget about those thoughts that are festering in the back of your mind and making you squeeze your legs together, but as the cold seeps into your bones and makes yourself huddle further into the sheets, you find yourself backing up against the warm body behind you.

The soft rustle of trees keeps you awake, at least that's what you tell yourself at first, not wanting to give into those filthy images of the cowboy flashing behind your eyelids.

Soon, all too soon for your liking, you find yourself panting. It's barely audible, but it's enough to make yourself embarrassed and look back at the outlaw peacefully sleeping behind you, unaware of the pictures you have playing on loop in your head. It makes you bite your lip; the thought of touching yourself right next to the man you've been meaning to tell your feelings to for months.

Quietly and carefully, you slide your hand over your body and between your legs, rubbing your already damp cunt over the fabric of your underwear. The feeling makes you grit your teeth much like earlier, and a small noise sneaks past your lips. You look back at Arthur again to see his chest still rising and falling slowly… fuck it, what's the worst that could happen?

Your hand slips into your underwear before you're even registering it. It's too cold to take the blanket off, or even your underwear for that matter, so you just run your fingers through your wet folds under the thin fabric. The slick noise it makes sounds too loud in the quiet forest, but at this point you're pretty sure the man is asleep, so you continue teasing yourself.

Your fingers circle your hole as you imagine it being his thick digits instead, or maybe even his tongue, since he's usually so quick with it. Another wet noise fills the tent when your fingers slide inside your needy cunt, buried to your knuckles as you massage that glorious spot inside you. When you pick up the pace, and the noises get louder, you're practically praying, wishing it was Arthur's fingers instead. They'd stretch you wide and fuck you good, the thought makes you shove some of the blanket in your mouth.

You're teetering on the edge at this point, scanning your brain for that final image that'll send you descending down the cliff… but a thick arm wrapping around your waist has you freezing in place.

“What have we got here?” Arthur's low, sleepy voice has the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, raising goosebumps all over your body as if he'd just ripped the sheets from your body.

“Arthur!–shit, I'm sorry–." You start, but his nose pressing against the back of your neck makes you stop in your tracks.

“I ain't judgin’ you, girl. We've all got our urges, desires.” He shuffles up closer to you, closing in on your body till his chest is pressed against your back, and his crotch is angled perfectly against your thighs. “Just wanted to know what you were thinkin’ about.”

God, his voice is so soft and low, it could make you fall asleep if your fingers weren't still knuckle deep inside yourself. “I–uhm…” Should you admit it? With the way he's pressing against you, it makes you think you should.

“You.”

“ ‘s that so? And why ain't you told me about this before, sweetheart?” His breath is hot on the back of your neck, pushing out any coldness that was left in your body as his large hand splays across your stomach and strokes your soft skin.

A huff escapes your nose a little louder than you expected. “Because… I'm embarrassed, I don't wanna be thinking about you like this.” You mumble ashamedly, but as those words leave your lips, you start moving your fingers inside your cunt again; a ‘come hither’ motion that makes you bite your lip to contain your noises.

“Oh, that ain't very nice. You ain't exactly a saint ya'self, Darlin’.”

Fuck, the way his words roll off his tongue makes you roll against your hand with a soft noise.

The action must've pleased Arthur, because he lets out a pant and presses his hips closer to yours, grinding in tandem with you as your hips roll on your fingers.

This feels so strange and wrong, but you aren't sure why. It's not like Arthur is married or even has a girl, he's just as lonely as you, and maybe that's exactly why you're so drawn to each other.

“Mmm, been dreamin’ ‘bout this for months, pressing against you like this.” He groans softly. His chin is placed neatly on your shoulder, cheek pressing against yours as his stubble itches your skin. He feels so warm and big behind you, like he's shielding you from any and every burden, and as his hips rock against yours more, you can't help but do the same. You grind back on him with short, soft pants, tilting your head to just get a glimpse of his blissed out face.

“When was the last time you did something like this, cowboy? You're acting like you're gonna cum in your night clothes.”

That makes a soft chuckle leave his red lips, flushed face pulling away from yours to look down at you.

“Long enough to be needin’ you.”

His words make you shiver, but he's quick to distract you with his hand taking your wrist and swatting your hand away.

“Lemme do it for you, sweetheart, please?”

Before your brain can even question or think about it, your body is telling him yes, your head nodding almost instantly. His fingers are quick to dive into your under garments and slide through your slick folds, a groan from him ringing in your ears.

“Dammit girl, you must have one hell of an imagination to make ya'self this wet… Jesus.” He grunts, looking down at his hand in your underwear with only the dim light of the lantern making your skin glow.

“I always get like this when I think of you, Arthur.” You tell him as your hand wraps around his wrist. “You're the only one that can make me cum.” You moan in his ear, making him dive his fingers into your needy cunt.

The stretch is wonderful, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel it, and it's just how you expected, if not better. His thick digits curl and glide over your walls until he finally feels you squirm against him as they touch that delicious spot.

“Yeah? You like it there, darlin’? Want me to keep goin’?”

Again, your body simply speaks for you, nodding quickly and grinding down on his fingers. You feel him grind his hips against you again, his body seemingly wanting to get impossibly closer to you as he ruts against your ass.

“You're such a pretty girl, y'know that? Been waitin’ to tell you that since the day we met.” He rests his chin on your arm so he can peck the exposed skin and continue curling his fingers inside you.

The tent is once again filled with the filthy sounds of your hole taking two fingers, sloppy wet sounds that would make you feel ashamed if it didn't feel so fucking good. It feels like all your nerves are being stroked at once, each time his fingers brush against your tummy or stroke your walls feels like you can't get enough of the electricity that runs through your body. You grip his thick arm, looking back at him as moans fall from your lips.

“You're damn good… shit.” You whimper as he looks up at you, big round eyes meeting yours to show he's there.

“Well, I appreciate that, comin’ from you.” He chuckles lightly, his own words breathy while his hips start to snap a little faster and become sloppy. “You gotta lemme feel this cunt for myself, please sweetheart, lemme feel this cunt clench around my cock.”

You find it hard to stop rocking your hips when he's talking to you like that, but eventually you take a deep breath and stop yourself. His fingers slip out of you with a lewd sound, and you feel him shuffle to get his night clothes off.

Your own are gone within seconds, your body too hot and needy to worry about if you'd thrown them outside to the wolves to get torn to shreds, all you can focus on is the man behind you.

As much as this position made you wet before, you desperately want to see his handsome face, even if it is barely visible. So, you flip onto your other side and rest your hands on his chest, the warmth spreading through your fingers. You can practically feel his excitement buzzing off of him and through your body, and it makes you giggle a little. “Jesus, you really ain't done this in a while, have you?”

“Not with a girl as pretty as you, sweetheart.” One hand slides over your cheek while his other finally gets his clothes off.

Just his tone alone makes your cheeks heat up, but as he leans in for a kiss, you find yourself taking in a breath of surprise. It's easy to melt into his arms and get lost in the feeling of his lips; they're surprisingly soft and sweet, and they feel like they fit perfectly on yours.

You're so swept up that it takes you a second to notice his hand snaking around the back of your knee and pulling your hips closer to himself.

That's when you feel it.

His length rests against your slick pussy lips, your leg now cocked over his waist to get him close. It feels bigger than you expected, thicker than you expected, it makes you whine softly on his lips.

You hate his little grin that you feel spread across his face. “Impatient, ain't you?” He teases, slowly rocking his hips against yours to let his cock slide through your sopping folds. His tip manages to butt against your clit each time, making you furrow your brows and moan softly on his lips.

Your hand is still resting on his cheek as you feel him push in for the first time, and god are you glad you're holding onto your bedroll with the other, because the stretch and the way he fills you makes you almost cum on the spot, a loud moan spilling from your lips to make you whimper embarrassedly.

“Oh sweetheart, don't be embarrassed. I love the noises you're makin’ for me, they're makin’ me so goddamn hard, can you do it again for me?” He asks as he pulls his hips back before sliding inside your warm, slick walls again.

You're quick to oblige to his plea, your body automatically reacting with a soft choked moan at the surprise of his thick cock stretching you once again. You can feel his calloused fingers still gripping the back of your knee to hold your leg up, giving him the perfect angle for his length to hit every nerve you have inside you and send sparks of arousal up your spine.

“Thaaat’s a good girl, look at'chu.” The man purrs, his warm breath making your eyes flutter shut so you can focus on his cock spearing you with each slow, deep thrust.

“Holy shit, Arthur, f–feels like you're splitting me in half.” You moan as your hands slide over his thick biceps and along his broad shoulders, finding that the perfect place for you to grip on for dear life too.

Arthur groans before leaning forward to press a kiss on the top of your head as he pants softly. “Biggest you've had, huh? Never felt somethin’ like this inside you, have you?” He doesn't accept the simple shake of your head, instead giving you a sharp thrust that has your nails dig into his flesh and a whimper spill from your lips. “No! No, I haven't… I love it, dammit, I love your cock.”

Something inside him seems to click as you say those words, a long moan slipping from his throat as his grip becomes tighter on your leg to pull you closer to him, his cock burying deeper inside you. He doesn't give you time to adjust before his hips are colliding with yours and the sounds of both your arousal soaked thighs are filling your ears and sending waves of pleasure from your head to your toes.

“Listen to those filthy noises, girl, that's all you. That's your wet cunt..” Arthur manages to moan out. He tilts his head down to watch your hips connecting, his head resting against your collar bones. “What a pretty cunt it is too… shit, I ain't ever felt somethin’ as good as this, miss.” His words seem to roll off of his tongue with ease, as if he's a erotic poet reciting the words he's scrawled down on the page. Maybe it has something to do with that journal he's writing in all the time… lord above how you'd love to read that.

“For you, Mr Morgan,” you blabber without even thinking about the words coming from your mouth. “I'm all for you, want you to take me like this over and over–.” It's funny how worked up you get over your own words, but it seems to have an even better effect on Arthur.

His brows knit together as his jaw hangs open a little, and dirty blonde strands of hair fall in his face and stick to his forehead perfectly.

“Shit, girl, you're gonna make me finish inside you if you keep talkin’ like that…” The man groans, his lip finding its way between his teeth to give him something to chew on. Somehow, his thrusts get faster, impossibly better as you feel the molten heat spread through your body and up to your throat to make you moan his name, along with any other expletives that come to mind.

Before you can stop yourself, you're saying dangerous words that, with any other man, would be like handing a loaded gun to a baboon.

“I want you to do that Arthur! Please– please cum inside me–” Your entire body tenses up before you come crashing down, whaling and grasping onto him for dear life as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm and make sharp thrusts that have you whimpering loudly. Your walls clench him tightly in pulsing rhythm, driving him closer and closer to the edge.

It's only a few more seconds before he's tearing his body away from yours and fisting himself, white ropes shooting all over your tummy as groans and growls rumble in his chest and his head throws back.

You watch the whole scene in front of you in awe, as if you're at the goddamn theatre watching a play… no, it's better than that. You'd never had time for the theatre, but you always have time for Arthur, despite how he gets on your nerves sometimes.

You smile softly at him as he lifts his head to look down at you, a smug grin on his face as he leans forward and pecks your lips.

“Hey, what's with the grin?” You huff softly and hit his chest playfully.

“Nothin’ just been waitin’ for you to admit your feelin's for me for a while now.”

An annoyed growl leaves your lips as you feel your face heat up with embarrassment, burying it in his chest instead to save you from his teasing.

“Shut the hell up, Morgan…”

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan smut #rdr2 #rdr2 smut #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader

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arvlelt · 24 days ago

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pretty mechanic.

pairing - vi x fem!reader

cw - reader's attractiveness makes vi nervy, reader is a smarty pants duh, for the sake of the plot vi doesn’t like cait, fluff, teasing, etc. lmk if i missed anything.

request - For Vi, something with a fem reader, who she meets through Ekko. Reader is apart of the Firelights, a mechanic or a healer, and she's getting parts and Vi just spots her rummaging through old stuff that she's intent on using to fix a hover board, and gets all tongue tied because she was expecting some scrawny pack rat kid, not a pretty woman

w.count - 1.1k+

a/n - kinda short did w what i could, also it's not letting me tag the person that requested this so if you see this, this ones for you gang<3 not proofread

"this better not be a waste of our time," grumbled a pretty grumpy violet who was following ekko with caitlyn not too far behind.

they were on their way to maybe find some clues about powder before ekko insisted that they make a pit stop to fix his board.

ekko scoffed, "if you want my help, i'm going to need my board. which needs fixing. so i need to go to our mechanic, genius."

vi smirked, "what, you can't fix it yourself, big guy? need a lil 'ol mechanic to fix it?" her tone was teasing as ekko didn't reply.

vi thought that was the end of that and that her point was proven right at his silence.

so you could imagine her shock when she see's not a scrawny little nerd, but in fact a very pretty and fit woman.

vi felt her cheeks warming up as she eyed the woman bent over, rummaging through boxes of whatever you were looking for, vi wasn’t as fixated on that — and more on the woman in her eye frame.

she couldn’t help her wandering eyes as they examined your curves, taking in all of your body that she didn’t even seem to notice ekko and caitlyn watching her watch you.

she took in your complete outfit, short shorts that showed just enough but not a lot of your ass, fishnets underneath with a few layered t-shirts you had laying around that made you look so good.

vi seemed to sense a presence behind her she turned around with a slightly flustered expression, “who, uhm— who’s that?” she whispered. ekko couldn’t stop the shit eating grin from forming on his face.

you seemed to hear the commotion as you looked over your shoulder for a quick sec, not giving much attention to the newcomers, before going back to your little invention you were working on.

“what happened now, ekko?” he could hear the desperation in your voice as ekko had quite a habit of damaging his board after coming back from raids, which would make you pause whatever you were working on.

ekko moved past vi, caitlyn straying behind him, and walked into your work space, taking a comfortable seat on your desk next to you, "this is our mechanic, y/n! she can typically fix anything aaanddd, she's a huge help around here."

you scoffed at his praise, wiping the sweat off your brow as you turned around and vi fully saw your face.

she swore she could've fallen on her knees right then and there. you were down right gorgeous. and not just that, you for sure had to have brains. it certainly doesn't take the average person to know what they're doing with being a mechanic and fixing equipment.

vi couldn't help the words spilling out her mouth, as she suddenly felt flustered, "she's your mechanic?" sounding a little more loud than she intended to.

caitlyn was quite amused, not quite used to seeing big bad vi so tongue-tied over someone. and it's not like she could blame her.

you tried not to take offense to her little comment but your face betrayed you as you responded, "and what's that supposed to mean?" you had a bit of an attitude as you reached over and grabbed a rag, cleaning your hands of the grease.

vi could understand why, it's not like everyone in the undercity was as accepting of women doing 'man jobs'.

she winced at how she might've sounded, hands coming up in defense and immediately was fumbling over her words, "that's- that's not what i was implying-! you're.. you're just so.." she trailed off, suddenly feeling awkward under your gaze. you were looking at her with a raised brow, waiting for her to finish.

well it's not like she was implying a bad thing, you were just so pretty. and she could never imagine a pretty dainty thing like you getting your hands dirty, and honestly, she found it so hot.

"i'm soo..?"

oh vi was gonna piss herself at the tone of your voice.

ekko cleared his throat in attempt to save vi, "anways! we're here because i once again busted my board. you guessed it. so if you would be so kind," you scoffed and let go of whatever vi was trying to say and looked over at ekko, who was handing you his board.

vi swallowed hard and she could feel sweat forming on her forehead as she watched you two chatting, caitlyn grabbing her attention as she came next to her, "what's got you so.. not.. you...?" she questioned her but she knew very well what the reason was.

she was trying to tease her, honestly.

vi scoffed, rolling her eyes a bit at her question, "oh, please, you know exactly why," she walked out your workspace with caitlyn trailing behind her.

as they walked out you gave a slight glance at where they walked out before looking back at ekko, "who's that pink-haired chick? she got a problem?" you tilted your head as ekko let out a slight chuckle.

"oh, her only issue would be that you weren't trying to get at her," ekko let out a little laugh as your face dropped in shock.

well that's not what you were expecting. it's not everyday that a woman finds interest in you.

and honestly, it kind of intrigued you.

vi and caitlyn came back in, and once again vi couldn't find the will to speak in your presence. you looked at violet, this time taking a good look at her which seemed to make her blush as she felt her cheeks warming up under your gaze as you eyed her up and down.

"can i help you with something else?" your tone was kinder and more inviting as you could feel the nerves basically rolling off of vi.

vi looking to the side at caitlyn before looking back at you, "uh, just wanna know if you guys are done. we need to, uh, head out soon."

you hummed, looking at ekko and signaling for him to borrow your board, "well if it's urgent, ekko can use mine while i fix his," ekko took the courtesy of walking out, caitlyn as well.

which finally left you two alone for a split sec before the nerves got to vi again and she turned on her heel, ready to run for it.

"i didn't catch your name?" vi was going to faint, good lord.

there was no way such a pretty girl was asking for her name.

she turned over her shoulder, giving a shy smile, "violet, vi for short."

you hummed slightly in response and she watched as you moved along your workspace, grabbing ekko's board and placing it on your work desk, "well, vi, you should come by some time. let me get to know you," your back was turned to her as you started working on the disaster in front of you.

vi was going to explode. she couldn't help the little hops of victory she did quietly behind you before replying calmly.

"yeah for sure, that sounds nice."

#vi x reader #arcane x reader #arcane vi x reader #arcane fluff #vi fluff #vi x fem reader #ugh i love her #needthat

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parkersbliss · 2 months ago

Text

if you and the COD men had Instagram

pairing: task force 141 x gender neutral reader (platonic), ft. keegan, alex, konig and alejandro

warnings: totally inaccurate brain rot, some of these people would not have instagram or post them like this LOL, like def OOC but it was funny to me? obvi they don't actually know each other canonically

a/n: I canon ghost would actually vaguely appear in the back of their insta posts with no tag and people just think the grim reaper is coming after them :)

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

Liked by valval, kganrusset, and 226 others

soapify gang and @/lasvargas !!! view all 33 comments

(Y/U/N) ZOO WEE MAMA SOAP UR BICEPSSS 🤤 → soapify glad someone noticed → gatzby one bite? 🥺 → soapify boy.

j.price my men → (Y/U/N) no, MY men :)

gatzby ghost in jeans really completes the vibes → (Y/U/N) imagine ghost is actually smiling behind the mask → user141 I'm not.

lasvargas this is too cold, showing the opps fr → (Y/U/N) @/iphilgraves 😘 → gatzby BITCH U HAVE HIS INSTA?? → soapify do NOT bring his energy on my page. → j.price (Y/N). office. now. → (Y/U/N) awww 🙁 → user141 this doesn't surprise me

Liked by iphilgraves, sandroach and 463 others

gatzby FOAP!! view all 122 comments

user141 Calling an airstrike on you right now. → gatzby NO PLEASE

soapify GHOAP → user141 Die.

(Y/U/N) bros got an overbite fr → user141 I will literally knock out your teeth.

katelasss Never seen this angle of him → user141 And you never will again.

iphilgraves Not so tough with the jaw hanging out, now? → lasvargas gtfo before I bomb you → iphilgraves Thought we were teaming up to mutually bully him → gatzby I BLOCKED U??? → iphilgraves Whoops

j.price Did you take this before we got ambushed? → (Y/U/N) it was funny → j.price Kids 🤦‍♂️

Liked by walkingL, imrudyyyy and 658 others

(Y/U/N) did somebody say serve? view all 99 comments

user141 Serve your country. → (Y/U/N) I am????

soapify serve me a sandwich → (Y/U/N) bitch.

gatzby serve me that ASS → (Y/U/N) say less king

j.price Serve some revenge. → (Y/U/N) sir yes sir

lasvargas we all know this diva

katelasss Can you serve a response to your emails? → (Y/U/N) oops, yes ma'am

alexkellar scrolling feels like a divorce → (Y/U/N) it is

vladmak What core is this? → (Y/U/N) beat ur ass core.

Liked by konig, alexkellar and 833 others

(Y/U/N) he wanted to say hi (we’re stranded at sea) @/kganrusset view all 129 comments

kganrusset YOU wanted to take the photo 🫵 → (Y/U/N) details, details → kganrusset whatever 😒 lmk when you get tired of handing out my number to other bitches → soapify am I included in bitches? → (Y/U/N) are u fucking serious. → gatzby yeah. → kganrusset you can reach me at 348-

j.price How did you end up with Keegan out there? → (Y/U/N) girls trip! → kganrusset Please take them back.

user141 Ghosts crossover before gta6? → (Y/U/N) ghost joining the ghosts when?

soapify the mcu (military commander universe) is expanding → kilokarim ULF crossover again? → iphilgraves shadow company crossover? → (Y/U/N) when? → gatzby (Y/N) STOP. → lasvargas mexican special forces crossover? → konig KorTac crossover? → vladmak Konni crossover? → katelasss No.

j.price Why don't you have half of those people blocked? → (Y/U/N) my bad, cap → user141 They're not blocking them. → (Y/U/N) I like the drama 🤷‍♀️

—

Read more, HERE. Never wanna miss a fic? Join HERE.

taglist: @trxpslxt @looking1016 @the-kakawshi-bird @Bitchyzombietaco @lilwinchester67

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freeabortionslol · 3 months ago

Text

Oscars night (Quinn Hughes x Reader)

hey gang how are we doing on this lovely Wednesday evening? anyways this is my first fic in like forever and it was kind of rushed so don't hate me I just wanted to write something.

summary: fluff, the reader is an actress going to the oscars for the first time with her childhood crush friend Quinn Hughes where there are several tension filled moments between the two until if finally cracks. the reader has a very strong friendship with the Hughes family with Luke looking at her as an older sister

warnings!! cursing, suggestive (???), marijuana, lil bit of angst (maybe), jealousy, mentions of alcohol, kissing, and lmk if I missed any but it's basically just fluffy as hell. I didn't fully proofread and it's lowk rushed but enjoy!!

wc: 4.2k

It was your first awards season with Quinn by your side. The two of you had been friends since you were kids, with you being the same age as Jack. You’ve always just been best friends, but the past couple of months things have shifted and the tension has been stronger than ever. You’re unsure if you're delusional or if he also noticed the way your hands lingered close when he handed you something. The two of you were staying in a hotel room near downtown Los Angeles for the Oscars. You were nominated for best supporting actress, and the film you appeared in was nominated for best picture. Your agent set up the hotel room and when she scheduled the room, she assumed you’d be sharing with your now ex boyfriend. While you and Quinn shared the room, there were two separate beds which disappointed you a bit, but you couldn’t voice it. You stayed in the bathroom getting ready for the night. Your agent wanted to have a hair and makeup team come to get you gussied up, but you insisted that the only person who could make you look the way you wanted, was you. You went for a more laid back look with less bold eye makeup, a blowout, and a floor length green gown with spaghetti straps. You put the final touches on your makeup look and slipped on your dress. The problem was, you couldn’t zip the dress up all the way unless you were trying to dislocate your shoulder. You thought about possibly asking one of your friends to do it when you got there, but the thought of showing up to the Oscars in an unzipped dress was mortifying. You decided to suck up your fears of intimacy with Quinn, and slowly opened the door. Quinn couldn’t hear the door open with the soft sounds of Mac Demarco playing from your bluetooth speaker. He was standing in the mirror fiddling with his tie trying to get it on the right way. You stood in the doorway for a moment just admiring how he looked in his prada suit. His hair hung messily parted in the middle just the way you liked it. You had to beg him to let you do it since he normally opted for the beanie + suit combo. You stared at him as he began to get frustrated. Huffing and puffing as he moved the tie around his neck trying to center it perfectly. You let out a silent laugh with a small smile and walked over towards him.

“Here let me do it.” You grabbed his shoulders with both hands and moved his body to face you. Quinn was speechless as you untied his tie and began doing it your way. Your eyes were focused on the tie around his neck, but his were centered on you in your stunning gown looking beautiful as ever. He had seen you several times in various different articles of clothing including his own, but never like this. He had never seen you so glamorized before, at least never in person. You fit into it so naturally, and he had to remind himself that you were dressed for your world and not his. He had gotten so used to seeing you in the box wearing his jersey with a pair of leggings, and completely forgot what you looked like doing the things that you loved. The nerves of the night came over him like a wave. Worried that he wouldn’t do the right thing or that he might embarrass you, but nothing beat his thought of wanting to see that green gown on his bedroom floor.

“You look beautiful.” He said in his trance-like state which caused you to look up from where your hands were on his tie. Never in his life had Quinn looked at you like this, or even spoken to you like this.

“I-uh…thank you.” You gave him a small closed mouthed smile to which he returned back. You turned your attention back to his tie trying to cover up the red tint that had washed over your face. “You look very handsome.” You could feel his breath on your forehead as he smiled. His face was now painted with the same red tint as yours. “Lucky to have a guy like you as my date.” You finished with his tie and turned around signaling him to zip up your dress. He very gently moved your hair out of the way and began to zip up the dress. His knuckles subtly touching your bare back as he made his way up, which sent shivers down your spine. When the dress was fully secured he grabbed both of your arms and turned you to where you were both facing the mirror. He placed his head on your shoulder admiring the stunning sight in the mirror. He was taking mental pictures in his head and in this moment he declared that this was his favorite spot. Being so close to you knowing that his lips were close enough to leave soft and rough kisses trailed down your neck. The way he could hear your faint breathing against the top of his head and it made him wonder if your heart was racing just as much as his.

“The only lucky person in this room is me.” He planted a soft kiss on your jawline and walked to the other side of the room to retrieve his phone. You, on the other hand, were left standing in the mirror, but that red tint covering your face had become significantly more saturated.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the two of you arrived at the red carpet before the show, cameras flashed at full speed as people were shouting incoherent things at you. Quinn had dealt with cameras at awards shows several times, but nothing as intense as this. He had to remind himself that you were also a star and being an actress came with more publicity issues than being a hockey player. He was nervous. Not visibly nervous enough for everyone to notice, but enough to where you noticed. You felt bad for bringing him to this crazy event, but you knew that things would calm down eventually. Absent-mindedly, Quinn placed his hand on your hip pulling you close. He felt the need to protect you from the flashing cameras, and he didn’t love the photographers yelling at you to pose in a different way. There was one photo that stood out prominently that you knew would be the talk of the internet. You were wearing a small closed-mouthed smile leaning your head towards Quinn, while he had a stare that could kill as his hand held and strong grip on your waist. This was abnormal for him, as he was always smiling during award show pictures. As you moved down the carpet, Quinn’s hand moved from your waist to the small of your back, making sure that his presence was known behind you. You grabbed his free hand with yours, pulling him to where he was next to you as you whispered in his ear.

“You okay?” You asked as he looked directly into your eyes

“Yeah. I’m fine, just not used to all this.” He let out a slight laugh along with a smile that brought your nerves down significantly. You decided to intertwine your fingers with his and you both moved down to an interviewer from entertainment tonight. When you stopped, Quinn took his place standing next to you, but stepped back a bit. His hand found his way back to your hip which was cut perfectly out of camera view. The interviewer asked you several questions about your movie while Quinn stayed back. His thumb was tracing circles on your waist which sent shivers down your spine, but you did your best to hold back those thoughts during the interview.

“So, Ms. Y/Ln, care to introduce us to your date?” You smiled and placed your hand on Quinn’s shoulder to move him up closer next to you

“Yes. This is Quinn Hughes. He’s a defenceman for the Vancouver Canucks. We’ve known each other since we were kids, and I thought why not take him to the oscars.” You let out a small forced laugh and Quinn looked at you and smiled.

“So Quinn, how's your first experience at the Oscars going? Do you love it? Do you hate it? Do tell.” Quinn turned his attention away from you and over to something in the distance, not wanting to make direct eye contact with the interviewer or the camera.

“It’s-uhh…it’s definitely not something I'm used to.” He rubbed his neck and laughed, looking back at the interviewer. “I don’t know how she does this all the time. Truly she’s a champ for being able to walk through this chaos. Put me on the ice in front of thousands of people and I'm fine, but put me in front of a bunch of cameras and I freeze.” You laugh at Quinn’s comment which causes him to crack a smile at you.

“Sooo what’s the scoop here? Are we dating? Boyfriend and girlfriend?” The interviewer asked and you and Quinn immediately froze. Both of your smiles dropped in an instant along with your hearts. Without hesitation, Quinn stepped up to the mic and said “No. We’re just friends. Have been for a long time.” You felt your heart shatter on the red carpet. You knew that the two of you were just friends, but hearing it said out loud? By him? So publicly? It was bound to crush you. You couldn’t stop thinking about how quickly and naturally it came out of his mouth like he didn’t even have to think about it. The both of you said your goodbyes to the interviewer and made your way down the carpet. He made sure to keep his fingers intertwined with yours not wanting you to get lost or taken. He didn’t know why he had that fear, but it definitely showed.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the insane red carpet frenzy, you and Quinn finally made your way inside. His hand was still intertwined with yours as you made your way through the groups of people. You were stopped by several costars and famous actors you wanted to introduce Quinn to. While standing around with Quinn, you excused yourself to the powder room as he went to get drinks for the two of you. The infamous bathroom was filled with women you’ve only ever seen on a screen and you had to fight the urge to ask for a photo while you were washing your hands side by side. You looked up into the mirror, fixing your hair as your hands were shaking. The only thing you could think of was how Quinn answered that question. You were freaking out on the inside and just wanted to ball up on the floor and cry it out, but you couldn’t. Quinn wasn’t the only thing that influenced your nerves, it was also that you were nominated for your first oscar and the thought of losing was killing you. In all honesty, the thought of winning was actually worse. Having to go up in front of an entire room of some of the most hardworking people in the world and read a speech that you wrote in your notes app last night while giggling on the phone with Jack. You held back your tears as you stared in the mirror. You let out a couple deep breaths, each one shakier than the last. Suddenly, as if she was a gift from god, Billie Eilish moved in next to you, hitting her vape pen. The two of you had met on several occasions and have become “Award Buddies” being so close in age.

“Billie.” You let out, trying not to hyperventilate. She looked up from her phone at you.

“Yes?” She gave you a half smile as you stared at her blankly.

“That THC or nicotine?”

“THC.”

“Can I hit it please?”

“Go for it.” Billie handed you her pen and you took a long drag. The smoke already calming your nerves just from the feel of it in your throat. You weren’t a big smoker at all. You only really got high with Luke when he was staying at your house. It was kind of a sacred thing between the two of you, sometimes with Quinn joining along. It was safe to say that your tolerance was low, but you weren’t thinking about that when you took another long hit of Billie’s cart. After three long hits of the pen, you handed it back to Billie, thanked her, and made your way out of the bathroom. You expected to see Quinn at the door when you walked out, but instead you were met with a long line of women waiting for the bathroom. You made your way through the crowds of people standing around, your high still not hitting quite yet. You stopped yourself when you finally found yourself in the eyesight of the bar. Quinn was standing there, two drinks in hand, talking to a beautiful woman. She looked about his age, a bit shorter than you, and her healthy chestnut colored hair fell into flawless curl patterns. Her head flew back in laughter at something he said, his face gaining a smile with teeth which was something he only reserved if he was actually having a good time. You felt your blood boil and your heart sink as you watched this wholesome interaction between the two of them. You watched as her hand reached up to touch the tie that you had put on him just hours before, and you decided that was the final straw. Your territorial instincts kicked in as you pushed through the crowd trying to make your way to the two of them. You reached Quinn and you placed your hand on his back, rubbing it around.

“Hey baby.” You’ve never called him that, but it’s now or never. Quinn was startled by your presence but quickly put his arm around your waist, pulling you close. His touch made your high kick in immediately as you leaned into him. Your body felt like it was melting into his. You visualized laying in his arms at the lake house while Luke and Jack were laughing about something stupid. That’s where you wanted to be right now, not here.

“Hey pretty girl.” He kissed the side of your head and handed you your drink, subtly hinting to the girl that he was taken. The girl only smiled and walked away letting out a “Nice to meet you.” You moved your head into Quinn’s chest and began laughing uncontrollably.

“What? What’s so funny?” He cracked a smile. Your head burying further into his chest as you let out a muffled “Quinny I'm so stoned right now.” You laughed through your words.

“What are you talking about?” He laughed along with you. You lifted your head up slightly so he could see your eyes. Your chin still rested in his chest while your arms were limp.

“Holy shit. You were sober when you left me.” He placed his hand on your cheek and smiled. You leaned into his touch and kissed his hand before looking back up at him with a cheesy grin. He let out a soft laugh and rubbed his thumb against your cheek bone. Quinn knew how overly touchy you got when you were high. Every time the two of you smoked together, you insisted he held your hand, or you leaned your head on his shoulder. The night always ended in you lying on top of him because you liked the way the rise and fall of his chest made your brain feel. He moved his hand from your face down to your waist, to which you responded by holding onto his wrist for dear life. You stared at his facial features as a smile grew on his face.

“I love you so much Y/n, but you have to act sober, or the internet will go crazy.” His words made you immediately lock in, suddenly remembering where you were. You removed your chin from his chest but kept your grip on his wrist strong. You widen your eyes, trying to make yourself look less dopey, but Quinn immediately responded with a cringed face.

“Don’t do that. You look crazy.” He laughed. You stayed there with your widened eyes just staring at him, unsure of what to do. Absentmindedly your mouth parted slightly in response to the lazy state your body was in. Quinn quickly took his index finger to your chin and pushed it up to close your mouth.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Making your way to your seats was a challenge in itself. If Quinn wasn’t there you were sure you wouldn’t have been able to make it. He held your hand the whole way there keeping you close as you attempted to make yourself look sober. Sure, you weren’t the only person there that was high, but you weren’t a big smoker, so you didn’t know how to handle it. Not to mention, you’d never been high in public. When you made it to your seats, you made sure Quinn’s hand never left yours. You were in public, but you were still the same girl that gets high at the lake house with his little brother. You looked over at him remembering that he was just as nervous as you were before. You wished he was in the bathroom with you to hit the pen. His leg was bouncing up and down as the lights dimmed, so you removed your hand from his and placed it on his leg, drawing circles with your thumb hoping to calm his nerves. He looked at you with a soft smile that said “Thank you”. As the ceremony went on, Quinn found his hand behind your back, fidgeting with the strap of your dress, twirling it with his fingers. His touch made your face red and you wondered if there were any cameras on the two of you at this moment. Your hand on his leg, and his playing with your dress. You looked over at him to see him only watching the stage as someone was accepting an award. You leaned in close to whisper in his ear.

“Do you realize you’re doing that?” He whipped his head to face you. Your faces now only inches away from each other.

“Doing what?” He asked. His voice low but not quite a whisper. The feeling of his breath on your nose made your heart ache, as you realized you’ve never been this close to him before.

“The strap of my dress. You’re playing with it.” You gave him a slight smile, your eyes never leaving his. He mumbled out a quick sorry and moved his hand away, but you stopped him before he could do so. “No no. It’s cute. Leave it there.” His face turned pink as he smiled at your comment, and turned to look back at the stage. You cheered to yourself in your head at this sweet, and public, intimate moment between you and Quinn. After an hour of people receiving awards and terrible jokes made by the host, your category was finally up next. The high helped your nerves, but you were still shaking. Quinn removed his hand from the strap of your dress and grabbed your shaking one. Your eyes never left the stage as you sat at the edge of your seat in anticipation. Quinn glanced at you with a side eye. He hated seeing you all amped up like this when he’s so used to your calming presence. He leaned in close to your ear.

“I have a really funny idea to piss off Jack, and throw everyone else off.” You turned to him, your eyes filled with fear, but softening at the idea of Quinn plotting something. It was something the two of you always did together. He was clearly doing it to try and calm down your nerves, but good lord was it helping.

“What?” you asked, leaning back in your seat, letting him whisper in your ear.

“If you win, I get to kiss you before you walk up.” Your heart dropped to your stomach as you flipped your head to look at him. Your eyes were in shock and your mouth parted slightly. You knew Quinn would suggest something crazy, but never THIS crazy. The thought of your first kiss with Quinn being in front of the whole world made you sad. You always wanted it to be an intimate moment, maybe in your apartment or down by the lake, but you also couldn’t pass up the opportunity to finally kiss him. You smiled at him, your faces so close to touching.

“Okay. Deal.” You handed out your hand for him to shake. “Jack is gonna lose his shit.”

The moment eventually came. The presenters were announcing the nominees and you got to see yourself in the camera on the screen. Your posture was slumped, you were leaning into Quinn, and your eyes were slowly falling closed. You quickly fixed yourself at the sight, widening your eyes in the way Quinn said not to do. He laughed slightly next to you. You quickly grabbed his hand with your gaze still locked in on the screen.

“And the Oscar goes to…” The presenter left everyone on the edge of their seats as she opened the envelope. You squeezed Quinn’s hand harder than before and he sent back exactly three squeezes which you knew meant “I love you” You looked over for just a split second to give him a smile, before looking back to the stage.

“Y/n L/n!” Your eyes widened more, if that was even possible. Cheers roared from around the theater. Quinn stood up first, holding out his hand for you to take. You were so caught up in the adrenaline rush of winning that you had completely forgotten about the deal you made with him. You stood up slowly trying not to burst into tears of joy. Quinn’s hands were set on your waist, so you rested yours on his biceps. You let out a little scream and jumped up and down twice. Quinn laughed at your reaction before he grabbed your face and planted a closed mouthed kiss on your lips. It wasn’t how you imagined it would be at all. The kiss wasn’t tension-filled or long like how you wanted it to be. You pulled back, your face red, suddenly remembering the deal. Without thinking, still at the peak of your high, you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in for a longer kiss. You made sure his bottom lip was tucked in between yours, wanting to get rid of his closed-mouthed idea. It was long awaited and hungry. You weren’t thinking about where you were as you moved your lips against his. You pulled him down slightly, letting him dip you. His grip on your waist tightened as you let your hand move to tug his hair. Quinn let out a slight groan as he pulled back and whispered in your ear.

“Not here, Movie Star. Go get your award.” He let out a slight chuckle and you quickly unwrapped yourself from his touch to jog up to the stairs. When you finally made your way up to the stage, all the nerves that had been building up had suddenly washed away. Not only had you just won your first Oscar, but your childhood crush just kissed you in front of everyone. The adrenaline of that was enough to quickly sober you up. Your speech was breathless and short. You made sure to exclaim your excitement through the microphone. You thanked everyone who worked on your movie, your family, and of course your “Sexy Date”. You quickly made your way off the stage, grinning wide with a slight pep in your step. You made it back to your seat looking at Quinn who had the cheesiest smile on his face. He quickly pulled you into a tight hug, burying his head in your hair.

“I love you so much. You’re amazing.” He muffled through your shoulder.

“I love you too. You have no idea how long I've wanted to kiss you like that.” Quinn pulled back from the hug and grabbed your hand to guide you to sit. Your heart began to race as you realized what you’d just said to him. Your mind started running through all the possibilities of what he would say.

“Baby, I want you to kiss me like that everyday for the rest of my life.” He faced you, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. You bit your bottom lip and grinned harder than you ever have before. You shifted your focus back to the stage as you rested your head on his shoulder, his hand finding its way back to your waist. You basked in the glamorous vibe of the celebrity-filled room, realizing the prize wasn’t the golden statue you’d just won, but the man sitting beside you.

Hughes fam & weird neighbor girl

Ellen Hughes: *Picture of Y/n holding Luke when they were kids* Lukey loves his big sister <3 Good luck tonight!!!

lukey pookie: *Picture of Y/n and Quinn kissing at the Oscars* Yeah apparently so does Quinn

jack attack: WHAT DA FUCK

Ellen Hughes: Jack. Language.

captain quinny: What can I say? Couldn’t help myself.

jack attack: Y/n ur bringing me to the next one and I get to kiss you

You: no.

#quinn hughes x reader #nhl hockey #nhl players #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #quinn hughes #freeabortionslol #imagine #canada #vancouver canucks #hockey #fanfic #x reader

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kira-fluff · 3 months ago

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no feelings, just lust - wakasa imaushi x fem!reader

what happens when FWB -> feelings? tw: language, casual sex (obviously), trust issues/mental health issues a/n: hello! you all know the drill, i've been busy with all uni. i've been wanting to write again and i finally had some free time tonight. am i once again venting my own psychological issues in the form of writing? yes. but honestly lets be so fr for a second i feel like some of my other girlies relate to this shit. idk, lmk. i hope i'm not the only one. (i'm scared of men)

wakasa didn't "do" relationships. too much work. too much shit he's got on his plate already. and hey, a girl deserves more in a serious relationship then a guy who doesn't give a shit, right? there are plenty of fuckers who treat their girls like trash just because they want the attention but not the commitment. in all honesty, wakasa didn't do friendships either. it's easier in his line of work to keep everyone at a distance. helps it hurt less when they leave - when they die, or shit, they betray you. but through shinichiro, he met you.

turns out, you weren't really all that into relationships either. it was funny that both of your lack of commitment stemmed from trust issues, but that wasn't something you both exactly said out loud. for you, it was easier not to get hurt or rejected if you never gave someone the chance to get close. so, you would play nice, act the part of a friendship, smile, placate, but at the end of the day, no one was really your friend. they were part of an act you played in your head. you assumed various roles, went through your script, amused your audience. and for what? so people can like you? at this point, you weren't even sure. this, of course, didn't even begin to touch on your commitment issues caused by your struggles in your own identity. you don't know what the fuck you want in a relationship, so whenever shit got serious, you cut it off. you decided relationships weren't your thing because guys didn't deserve to have their feelings played with by someone who approaches them half-heartedly.

when you met wakasa, it was perfect. neither of you wanted anything beyond just casual sex. no commitment. you don't care who else the other is fucking, so long as your clean. you can quit whenever you want. no strings attached and with it, no feelings. there were no expectations. you were free to do what you want, and if it wasn't what you wanted anymore, you could call it off without hurting anyone. you just happen to be satisfying each other's needs. it's both selfish, but in a way, also a symbiotic give-and-take. if it is mutually beneficial, is it really all that selfish? maybe you shouldn't be giving as much thought to the semantics, but your proclivity for overthinking is part of the reason your real relationships are a clusterfuck.

shinichiro introduced you at the club, where you were languidly sipping on a cocktail. "this is y/n, she's chill. comes out to hang with us sometimes." "yeah, when i got shit else to do," you laughed. your gaze met his purple eyes as you blinked slowly. the smell of weed permeated throughout the club, adding a slight fog to the already densely populated club. "wakasa." he said, and that was it. no "nice to meet you" or any of that other shit. yeah, he wasn't up for the play acting either. good. as he ordered a drink, you took another sip, searching the club for anything amusing to pass the time. blaring music, sweaty bodies, lustful and uninvited hands...yeah, it wasn't really your scene. but you were bored, and honestly a little lonely. with that combination, you hit up shinichiro asking if he and his gang were doing anything this weekend. they always are. how do they not get exhausted just being around all these people? it's a task already just spouting off conversation with these braindead fuckers.

wakasa took a seat next to you, surveying the club just as you were. after taking another sip of his scotch, he said, "this shit gets old pretty fast." you smirked. "can't say i disagree." wakasa licked his lips, taking a long look at your figure. "you doin' anything tonight? 'sides sitting here bored as fuck." you turned your eyes to him once more. "what did you have in mind?"

wakasa slammed you against the door to your apartment, kissing you urgently as you attempted slipped off your shoes while just a little bit wasted. you weren't wasted enough to see this guy was fucking hot. and as he rubbed up against you, you realized he had plenty to offer. "so fuckin' hot," he sighed as he kissed you, "i wanna be inside you." you groaned as he licked your lip, then plunged his tongue into your mouth. there, you two melded into a rhythm of twisting tongues, sighing, moaning, drawing back for a breath, and then repeating it all over again. of course, this only lasted so long before wakasa grabbed your ass, lifting you up and carrying you to your bedroom and tossing you onto your bed. as he unbuckled his pants, you make quick work of removing your tight-fitting dress. at last, you basked in each other's well-endowed features. as you looked at him, his purple eyes were nearly pitch black with desire. he wants you. and you can have him. like letting go of a rope, wakasa met your body and slid his cock in between your wet folds. his pace was a steady rhythm as he gazed at you, analyzing what make you feel good. "mmm... harder..." you sighed, to which he quickly responded with more aggressive thrusts, causing the bed to whine as he pounded into you. "yes, oh my god, yes," you sighed. he sucked air through his teeth. "fuck, you're so tight. feels so fuckin' good." as his hips rocked into yours, you couldn't take your eyes off him. your fingers found the nape of his neck, where you pulled at the purple and blond strands, eliciting a groan from him. suddenly he stopped. "fuck, not gonna cum yet. wanna make you feel even better." he pushed your body futher up the bed, then spread your thighs until they touched either side of you. slowly, he leaned his head down toward your pussy, his eyes on you. then, he licked a stripe up, teasingly. you couldn't hold back your whimper. a corner of his mouth turned up as he sucked on your clit, then once again licked up your slick, swirling his tongue around your entrance. you felt your pussy getting wetter as he continued to taste you. "tastes so good. lemme see you cum, baby girl." he moves his fingers inside of you, thrusting them in and out of your pussy at such a rapid pace you began moaning. along with it, he removed his tongue, licking what was left on his mouth, and moved his other fingers to rub against your clit, making slow circles. your breathing became shallow, just gasps of air. your mind went completely blank, only able to focus on the sensations he brought with only his hands. and fuck, those hads were like magic. slowly, slowly, the pleasure built up inside of you until you let out a moan, shaking as you orgasmed. as you sighed, calming your rapid breathing, he eyed you up and down. "you don't think we're done, do you? we're just gettin' started." he said, curling his lips in amusement. you huffed out a laugh, "of course, we wouldn't want you leaving without your dick soaked." his mouth twisted downward, as if he was fighting against a smile. "alright then, make me cum."

you awoke to light stubbornly illuminating your room through the blinds. thank god you didn't have a hangover. you sighed in contentment. you felt so full. it had been awhile since you'd had sex that good. well, fuck, it was great. out of this world. mind-blowing. you lost count of how many hours you were at it, how many times you made each other cum. all you could remember was the sensation of wakasa inside of you and your mouth around his cock. and goddamn, the wonders he worked with that tongue. fuck, did you get his number? you glanced over to the other side of your bed. predictably, it was empty. well, at least he wasn't expecting some kind of morning pillow talk. better to just fuck and be done with it then sit there talking about your feelings. lamenting your oversight, you lazily walked toward your kitchen, thankful for your coffee maker preprogrammed to make you the good shit without you fucking around with the machine when your mind wasn't yet awake. after taking a few sips of your highly-caffienated, highly-sugar-filled coffee, you noticed a slip of paper on the counter. thanks for the fun night. if your up for it some time again, text me. xxx-xxx-xxxx - wakasa you smiled. at least one of you had your head on straight this morning.

pulling out your phone, you typed out "hey wakasa. it's y/n. definitely down for another night sometime." not two minutes after you sent your message, you heard your phone ding. "glad to hear. free sunday night. your place or mine?" "your place. wanna see if your place is as glorious as mine, with the shitty white paint over the holes in the wall from my landlord. ya know, the luxurious shit you get when you can just barely pay the bills." you replied. "sounds good. here's my address: xxxx xxxx xxxxxxx." you pouted. not a laugh? well, he's not really the "lol" type, you supposed. but why did you even care? maybe just because he doesn't have a good sense of humor - what a piece of moldy cheese. but the sex was good, so even if his personality is moldy cheese (just because he didn't think you were funny) you can put up with him. and did his personality even matter? you guys were just fucking. it's just sex. nothing more.

wakasa breathed out a laugh, looking at your text. the corner of his mouth quirked up despite himself, resulting in an eyebrow raise from his unwanted observer. "the fuck you smiling at?" shinichiro asked, grinning. "damn, get off my dick, shin. none of your business." "it's that girl you fucked last night, isn't it?" he said, moving his eyebrows up in down in the most obnoxious way. "well, yeah, we're gonna meet up and fuck again sometime. nothing serious. you're always so interested in making everything sound like some damn romance." wakasa rolled his eyes. shinichiro frowned, replying incredulously, "well, sor-ry for having a fuckin' dream! not all of us can fuck girls left and right." wakasa scoffed. "not my fault your bitchless." "i'm not 'bitchless', i just prefer a girl to like me for more than my cock." shinichiro defended. "it's really not that serious. if you go into it thinking it's gonna be this whole romantic and idealistic shit, it's not. yeah, they want you for your dick. but you want them for their pussy. it works out." it was shinichiro's turn to roll his eyes. "not everyone can just sleep around like it's no big deal. i want someone who likes me for more than just my amazing, gorgeous, sexy body." wakasa shook his head, "well good luck, because you don't even fit that bill either." shinichiro gasped, "shut the fuck up! i can dream, okay?!" with that, he stormed away. wakasa shook his head. shinichiro was always getting his heart broken. how did he not see that keeping things casual was better than wasting your time trying to win someone over for more than just sex? it wasn't worth the time.

for the next few weeks, something idiotic was developing in his mind. after those hours of fucking, wakasa found himself wanting to stay. he thought about coming over earlier so he could try your cooking that you bragged about but probably tasted like dog shit. he wanted to watch the stupid movie you were raving about when you stayed up late talking after a few rounds. he spent sleepless nights thinking about the time when you were drunk and told him that he was so sweet behind all his "bad boy" exterior (whatever she meant by that). more than a few times he awoke to dreams of fucking you senseless. but more concerning were the dreams in which you held his hand, gently smiling at him as you walked toward a street food vendor. it was like, dating shit. he didn't do dates. so why the fuck was he dreaming about corny shit like some walk-around-town time with you? he briefly considering calling the whole thing off. just biting the bullet and texting you he just wasn't feeling it anymore. but then he'd hear his phone ding again, and it was a text asking if he was doing anything tonight. or fuck, sometimes it was just some "cursed image" (as you called it) that made him question your sanity. but also made him smile. like, what the fuck, wakasa? just block her. don't have anything to do with her. you don't need that investment in your life. it was goddamn embarassing how fast he'd grab his phone when he heard his phone ding - hoping it was from you. so he couldn't let go. the sex is too good, he reasoned with himself. he hasn't had this level of physical chemistry with anyone. so, he can't take the chance of hoping to find someone else.

as you sat cuddled against wakasa's side, watching the most iconic movie ever (that you forced him into sitting his ass down and watching), you realized something. you and wakasa were... friends. not fake friends were you had to play the part of whatever the fuck he wanted from you. like, genuine friends. you felt you could be - as lame as it sounds - yourself. after the movie ended, you looked up at him. for some reason, an image of him pushing back your hair to kiss your forehead flashed through your mind. but friends didn't do that shit. and neither did hookups. but eh, everyone gets like that sometimes, right?

"'m gonna order some food. what kinda rice do you want?" "just get me whatever you're having. don't feel like thinking right now." he laughed. "lazy ass." you grinned at your position on the couch, watching him as he leaned against the dining table. "says the guy who lives his entire life on 'minimal effort mode'." "it wasn't an insult." "damn. here i was thinking you were being a big meanie, but you're just a real sweetheart, aren't you?" he rolled his eyes. "shut up. 'm ordering a bunch of shit because i know you always want egg rolls." "this is true. i'm big back and proud." he shook his head, withholding a grin, much to your amusement.

it was such a stupid moment. he was just ordering food while chatting with you idly. but fuck. he has feelings for you. and not just "i wanna fuck you" feelings. the kinda mushy, lame shit shinichiro was always yappin' about. the kind of shit that made him think of the future rather than always looking toward the past. he wanted to be more than just a fuck-buddy. in some ways, he felt like you already were. but how the hell is he supposed to ask that? the whole "what are we?" sounds dumb. but exposing his true feelings sounded even more foolish. with that, he decided, it's better not to say anything. it'll go away anyway.

news flash, your feelings were not going away. and yeah, you knew at this point that things were changing. you looked at him not with soley physical attraction, but also a deep, emotional connection. you felt like you clicked on a whole different level than any of the other guys you'd attempted to date before. it's not like you could help it. wakasa... there was just something so magnetic about him. something inexplicable that drew you to him. that made it impossible to leave him on read. more than a few times you texted until the sun shone through your windows. and it wasn't sexting. it was talking about stupid shit, or sometimes even getting down to a little bit of some of those issues you've been pushing away because it's easier to ignore them than address them and work through all the mountain of garbage you've carried your entire life. you understood each other the way no one else did. falling in love with him - if you dared use that "L" word - seemed like it was set in stone. once you went beyond sex, it was like love was unavoidable. even when you tried to search for reasons to dislike him - any part of him that made you decide was too much of a red flag to have any sort of loss of feelings - you came up empty. sure, he's not perfect, but fuck if he isn't perfect for you. how could you burden him with your feelings? you already knew talking about it would ruin everything. both of you didn't do relationships. how stupid would it be to suggest one?

you both lay panting on either side of your mattress. unexpectedly, wakasa asked, "...are you..." he exerted another breath, "seeing... any other... guys?" your eyes widened in surprise. "...not currently... why?" you hated that a part of you desperately hoped that he was jealous. he glanced away from you. "ah, it's nothin'." you sat up on your elbows. "is it really nothing? waka, are you upset?" he shook his head fervently. "nah, no. it's really nothin'." you raised an eyebrow but conceded. "...well, okay. if you say so." wakasa's eyes found your own. and he stared into your eyes like he never had before. like he was studying them. memorizing every color, every outline, every speckle. his eyes darted from your eyes to your lips, then back again. "can i..." he licked his lips, "can i... kiss you?" you let out a small laugh. "you've never asked before." he looked down. "...nevermind." yet, you understood what he meant. asking.... it was different. it meant something. something deeper than just expressing lust and bodily desire. so, you leaned forward, grabbing the collar of his shirt, and pulled him in for a deep kiss. your mouths moved against each other, yet it was delecate. reverent. like both of you wanted to savor this moment forever, rather than pull apart for something as trivial as air. as you parted at last, after a quick breath, wakasa leaned in for a gentle kiss on your mouth. as he parted, his eyes found yours. and you could no longer deny that your hopes were not unfounded. "i love you, waka." he blinked slowly. "i love you, too."

a/n: rahhhh i think this might be one of my favorites. please share your thoughts!

#tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tokyo revengers x reader #wakasa imaushi #wakasa smut #tr wakasa #tokrev wakasa #tokyo revengers wakasa #tokyo rev #wakasa x reader #wakasa imaushi x reader #imaushi wakasa x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n

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whoreforsexymen · 2 months ago

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Strong Drinks & Broken Links 🍺⛓️‍💥 CH. 1

Gray Hair & The Absence of Care

(Gif creds: me <3)

Pairing(s): Vander x Reader

Pronouns: GN!Reader (for now— please see this post for details)

Rating: SFW, except for strong language and consumption of alcohol (drink responsibly, people). Reader is old enough to drink, despite what Vander thinks.

Word count: 4.7k (the rest are going to be far longer, so be prepared)

Tags: Slowburn, Reader is implied to be 21+ years old, Age Gap, Heavy Use Of Language/Alcohol, Reader might be a little too angsty (I’m sorry), Tense Situations, Vander being the caring mentor type he is but in a poorly thought out way.

Notes: I don't think I've ever posted a fic on this account. So, welcome to my only outlet for the brain rotting obsession I have for this man. ALSO I SWEAR TO GOD NO ONE MENTION ANYTHING ABOUT SEASON 2, OR I'LL FIGHT YOU.

((If any of you want to be added to a tag list for this fic, please lmk!! Ask box is also open for requests/suggestions/comments 🤍 feedback is always appreciated 🤍🤍))

It had been a terrible night so far.

Not only had you been shortchanged more than two-thirds of the agreed-upon pay for a job you’d completed—but that paltry sum had quickly slipped from your grasp entirely, taken by a gang of thugs.

You had to give the undercity credit—it had an uncanny ability to remain a perpetual cesspool. You’d managed to take down two of the muggers, but the third—the one who’d made off with your coin—had slipped away while you were dealing with the others. Just your luck. The payout had been pathetic to begin with, and now you were left with nothing but the bitter taste of failure. It looked like you’d be scraping the dregs of the city to find enough for your next meal, yet again.

That is, unless you decide to drink your dinner. As well as your sorrows, in the process. The idea struck you as you neared the central bar of the undercity, still sulking as you were making your way back to the shack you called home. The Last Drop. A name that said it all. If there was any place where the undercitizens of Zaun gathered, it was here. No doubt the owner had to be the wealthiest man in the area, though that wasn’t exactly saying much in a place like this.

You made your decision. A warm meal might be out of reach, but liquor could suffice—if you drank heavily enough, that is. Or at the very least, it might dull the sting of the night’s failures.

The bar was an eyesore, a hulking building among the rundown structures of The Lanes. A garish neon sign blinked above the entrance, buzzing like an angry fly, casting sickly light on the grime-streaked pavement. Inside, the din of loud music and the clatter of drunken chatter spilled into the street. It was a haven for folks with any background, no matter if they sought business or pleasure within its walls.

You pushed through the door, noting how no one even bothered to glance your way. That was how you liked it—under the radar, always out of sight, always out of the mind of untrustworthy beings.

Then again, you didn’t trust anyone anyway.

You duck and weave through the crowd of rowdy patrons, eyes scanning the bar for a table or booth at which you could hunker down and nurse your drink in peace. Your frown deepens beneath the hood of your jacket when you come up empty-handed. Typical. No matter, though. You’d have to order at the bar anyway, regardless of where you sat.

It’s when your eyes settle in the direction of the bar that luck seems to briefly shine upon you—there’s an empty stool. Without hesitation, you make a beeline for it, not wanting some drunken fool to snag it before you could. You practically dive-bomb onto the seat, landing with a small grunt, air knocked from your lungs. After the night you’ve had, this stool feels like an oasis, despite the new absence of oxygen beneath your chest. You settle into it like it’s the only thing left in the world, clutching the seat as if someone might try to commandeer it if you let your guard down low enough.

The realization dawns on you that, in order to get a drink, you’d have to interact with the bartender. You hold that fact in high regard with contempt.

Chit-chat? Not tonight– or truthfully any night. You’ve never been crazy about casual conversation. The events of the evening have only soured your mood further, and the last thing you need is some eager bartender trying to make nice. Normally, you’d avoid sitting at the bar for that reason alone, yet here you are.

Thankfully, the bartender pays you no mind, his attention fully set on the patron he’s currently tending to. That is, until said patron leaves and the barman finally turns to you, his new source of focus.

The sheer momentum with which you rolled your eyes almost knocked you out of your seat.

“Welcome to The Last Drop. What’ll it be?” His voice is deep, and heavy, garnering a thick accent that clung to every word.

He’s an older man, though exactly how old is hard for you to pin down. His hair’s gray, his eyes tired, the lines of age having etched themselves into his face long ago. However, there’s something youthful about him—something that makes it hard to tell whether he’s an old-looking thirty or a young-ish fifty. Frankly, you don’t care enough to continue your mental evaluation of him. Age shouldn’t matter when it comes to bartenders. They either know how to pour a decent drink, or they don’t.

You don’t waste time with pleasantries.

“Something strong.” You mutter, your voice mostly flat, but with a hint of irritation that danced along the edge.

The bartender scratches at his graying beard, his gaze thoughtful as he considers your request. You grit your teeth, hoping he won’t try to scam you by giving you something weak and overpriced, just to line his pockets with your hard-earned coin. You’d seen it happen to others, and you’d be a damned fool if you let it happen to you.

The bartender studies your face, or at least what he can see of it beneath your hood, before his gaze shifts to the shelves beneath the counter. After a moment of deliberation, he selects a bottle with thoughtful ease, pulling the cork out with his teeth. With his free hand, he grabs a tin cup and pours in a copious amount, sliding it toward you with a swift flick of his wrist. You’d almost call it a generous decision on his part, considering the fact that you hadn’t even paid your dues first. His choice to serve you first goes a long way in easing your suspicion, at least for the moment.

You dig into your pocket, retrieving the few gold coins you’d managed to hold onto when dealing with the aforementioned thugs. They weren’t enough for one measly meal, but they were enough for a drink or two– or three, but who’s going to keep track? Certainly anyone but you. You’d only stop once your pitiful wealth ran out. Without a second thought, you toss them onto the bar top, making it unspokenly clear to the bartender that you were hoping for much more than just this one drink. You grab the cup, lifting it to your lips and downing the lot of it in one quick, greedy gulp. The warmth spreads through you almost immediately, and it feels like a small victory over the obnoxious turn your night has taken.

The bartender watches this with a faint chuckle before you slam the empty cup back down onto the counter. He takes it without a word, refills the tiny tin chalice, and begins passing it back. Without missing a beat, you grab the cup from him, draining the contents in a second gulp before he even has time to set the bottle back down.

“You look like you’ve seen better days,” he remarks casually, his voice low and steady as he finally reunites the bottom of the bottle with the countertop.

“I’ve seen a lot of things.” you mutter, your eyes fixed on anything but him. The words come out flat, though there’s a weight to them. It’s more than just a refusal to talk—it’s a refusal to let anyone look too closely. You avoid eye contact like the plague. Eyes, after all, are the windows to the soul. And letting someone peer through them is a risky gamble you’ve never been apt to take.

You were clearly beyond uninterested in the beginnings of this conversation. The lack of willingness to be friendly reigning clear as you shove the tin cup towards him yet again. He grabs the empty cup and refills it once more—your third drink in under five minutes. He seems reluctant to hand it back. He maintains a grip on it as he eyes you again, this time much more thoughtful.

“Care to chat about it? Might be healthier than drownin’ yourself at the bottom of a bottle,” he offers plainly.

You give him a sidelong glance, not even trying to mask the edge in your voice.

“Doesn’t sound like a good business strategy, encouraging your paying customers to cut back.” You fire back quickly, the sharpness of your words outpacing even your annoyance at the unwanted conversation.

The bartender chuckles again, a spark of amusement flickering in his tired eyes. There’s a glimmer of understanding in his smile—maybe he’s seen more than a few like you in this dive. Or maybe, he knows in the same fashion as you, that sometimes it’s more palatable to fill the silence with alcohol than with words.

“Fair point, but I’d prefer to keep my patrons alive. Helps me sleep at night, y’know?” The bartender shoots back, his eyes fixed on you, all too curious about what’s hidden beneath your hood. The conversation quickly turns uncomfortable, a painful reminder of why you’ve never liked bartenders—they always talk too much and ask too many personal questions. As far as you’re concerned, they should stick to the charade for the sake of their regulars, and leave all unsuspecting customers alone.

The momentum of yet another roll of your eyes causes your head to bob ever so slightly— your hood creeping back towards the line of your hair. The new, incredibly subtle, view of your face made the barman clench the cup in his hands with rigor.

His eyes narrow slightly, the amusement fading from his voice.

“Where’re your parents, kid?” He asks, his voice low and in demand of an answer.

The question hits you like a slap, and for a brief second, you find yourself caught off guard. You’re not someone who’s usually thrown by imbecilic remarks from the residents of The Lanes, but this one? It’s different. Not just the audacity of asking such a personal question, but the clear assumption of your age being made so boldly.

Your head snaps up, and before you can stop yourself, you push your hood back, breaking your own rule about eye contact. Why? Who knows. Today has already gone off the rails, and you’re too far gone to care. The liquor’s sudden grip on your senses began to cloud your judgment, and honestly, it was far from shocking. To be fair, you had asked for something strong… Not to mention having no substantial food in your belly to dilute the potency you sought after. All in all, there was no ignoring how the liquor was starting to pummel you like a brick to the face would.

You meet his gaze, eyes scanning his face for any sign of what he’s gunning after by asking such a question. But there’s nothing obvious behind those gloomy eyes of his. No clear motive. You can’t tell if he’s purposefully trying to get under your skin or if he’s just another fool with a quick tongue.

“Rotting in their graves,” you mutter, voice sharp and, in addition, spiteful.

“Which I’m sure you’ve got one foot in, yourself, Gramps.” You make a mockery of the decades that are clearly stacked against you, hoping to push him back into his corner.

He doesn’t flinch. Instead, he practically snorts, running a hand over his silvery beard as he crosses his arms; resting them across his stomach with the casual authority of someone who’s seen it all. He’s not rattled by your quips—no, not in the slightest.

“How old are you, kid?” His voice is flat now, a hint of something more serious creeping in, though you can’t figure out why. You’re even more unsure now about his intentions. Constantly expecting the worst from people was your lot in life.

“Too young for you.” You snap back, pushing forward with your usual sharpness, trying to regain some control over this ridiculous conversation. You reach for the cup he had refilled for you, but before you can even graze it, he snatches it away, clicking his tongue like a disappointed parent.

“Tsk, tsk,” he tuts at you, as if you’ve done something wrong.

“I asked how old you were.” he repeats, his voice now devoid of any amusement.

He watches you carefully, his gaze inspecting your face as if he’s trying to peel back layers you didn’t even know were there.

You roll your eyes, irritation growing, and narrow them at him, unwilling to back down. You can’t tell if he’s probing for something deeper, or if he’s just getting off on making you uncomfortable. Either way, you’re done playing his game.

“Why are you so curious, huh?” you scoff, leaning in and making a bold decision to double down on your irritation. “I’m just another patron here to drown in my sorrows and drink them away. Not to mention, I’m paying for the privilege.” Your words are bold, and with that same boldness, you reach across the bar and rip the cup from his grasp.

You try to bring the drink to your lips, intent on finishing it off. But just as the cup nears your mouth, the bartender’s large, rough hand slips over the opening of the cup like a solar eclipse.

He glares down at you, his eyes narrowing as he sizes you up with a look that could strip paint. In that moment, something clicks in his mind. The defiance in your voice, the way you’re carrying yourself—it all reinforces his suspicion. You’re not old enough to be here. When you walked in, your hood had obscured most of your face. But now that it’s gone, he can see it clearly: you’re just a kid, trying to score some alcohol. The only thing that kept him from throwing you out on your ass, was your cadence. You looked young, and spoke carelessly, but you sounded grown. If you were in fact grown, he’d ease up.

However, with the way you look—bloodied and bruised, no less—he’s convinced you’re in some kind of trouble. The kind of trouble he doesn’t want being drug through his bar. He doesn’t know where you’ve been, who you’ve pissed off, or what kind of people you run with. But this? This is his bar, and he’s fought too hard to maintain the fragile peace that reigns here. He won’t let you ruin that for him and his loyal patrons by dragging your poor choices in with you.

“Seems I’ve struck a nerve,” he says, his voice no longer playful but flat and serious. “Either tell me your age, or you’re cut off.”

The room seems to hush around you. The muffled chatter of patrons behind you fades as the bartender’s tone sharpens, leaving no room for argument. It’s a quiet threat now, the kind that lets you know exactly how much leverage you have—and how little he’s willing to tolerate.

“You didn’t strike shit,” You hiss. “and I don’t need to answer to shit.” You add.

The bartender bends over the counter, his face inches from yours. The bitter scent of smoke hangs thick on his breath, hot and rancid, and it presses against your skin like a physical weight. The damp air in the bar swirls around you, brushing your cheeks with an uncomfortable warmth that feels suffocating, as if the room itself is closing in.

“Keep talkin’ like that, and I’ll have no problem lettin’ my loyal patrons cut your tongue out for us to hang above the bar.” He says fiercely.

You glance over your shoulder, catching the eyes of the dozens of patrons who have fallen silent, their conversations and business abruptly halted. It’s clear—they’re waiting for a signal, ready to back up their beloved bartender if things escalate.

“You can call off the cavalry, Gramps. I was just leaving,” you retorted, swiping one of your coins from the counter, as if to refund yourself for the drink you’ve yet to have. You release your grip on the cup, almost slingshotting it backwards from the sheer force you two had each been bestowing upon it.

“Sit down.” the bartender commands, his voice low and final, as you attempt to abscond.

You don’t reply, instead moving to shoulder through the row of patrons who are standing like silent sentinels, waiting for the slightest nod from their bar’s gatekeeper. It’s not like you expected them to part, but the way not a single person dares budge makes your blood boil. The crowd might as well be a wall of stone.

“Sit. Down.” the bartender demands again, his tone sharper this time, a razor edge cutting through the haze of the bar.

You grind your teeth, your patience wearing thin.

“I’ll take my patronage elsewhere—”

You don’t even finish your sentence before a hand, seemingly out of nowhere, pushes you roughly back. You stumble, barely managing to stop yourself from falling flat on your ass. The sudden movement sends a rush of heat to your head, the anger spiking through your veins like fire.

You seethed at the touch, the anger burning hot in your chest, every muscle in your body coiled with frustration. But you knew better than to keep pushing your luck. Not today. Not in a situation like this, with dozens of hungry eyes watching, their hands twitching near their weapons of choice, waiting for the slightest excuse to make a move.

Biting back a torrent of curses, you forced yourself to swallow your pride, choosing to stay quiet—at least for now. It wasn’t worth the fight. You could practically feel the heat of their glares digging into your back as you turned on your heel, eyes locking once more with the bartender’s. You reclaimed your seat at the bar with deliberate flair, each movement oozing a sense of defiance and attitude. It was a performance, one you were used to. To you, it felt like you were playing the part of someone tough. But you knew, deep down, that to anyone else—especially the bartender—you probably looked like nothing more than a naive, immature idiot who didn’t know when to shut up. It wasn’t a great look, but at least it kept people from getting too close.

“I’m sat,” you muttered, voice brimming with the remnants of your irritation.

The bartender shook his head slightly, a hint of amusement creeping back into his expression. You could feel the tension in the room dissipate, the energy shifting as the crowd behind you resumed their rowdy conversations. The noise began to swell again, and for a moment, it almost felt like the bar was returning to some semblance of normalcy.

He grabbed a dirty glass from the counter, handling it with practiced ease, and pulled a rag from beneath the bar. As he began polishing the glass, he didn’t so much as glance your way. His focus was on the glass, and for a few moments, it felt like you were nothing more than a background detail to him. You could feel your impatience growing with each passing second. If he had something to say, you wished he’d just say it already. At least that way, you could get out of here—and maybe keep some of your pride intact.

The bartender continued his slow, methodical motions, running the rag around the rim of the glass with an almost exaggerated calmness. He didn’t bother to look up, yet you could feel the weight of his gaze on you through the silence.

“I’m gonna ask you again,” he said, his tone neutral, almost too much. “How old are you?”

You weighed your options. If you didn’t answer, you had no idea what would happen next. If you did answer, you still had no clue. It was a gamble either way.

“(Insert age here),” you muttered, the words slipping out begrudgingly, each one like a weight lifting off your chest.

The bartender scoffed lightly, a soft laugh escaping him that made your skin crawl. Your fingers began tapping impatiently on the bar’s edge, the rhythm a soft counterpoint to the growing tension between you.

“____ years old and still so naive… You really are just a kid, eh?” His words hung in the air, his eyes still locked on the glass in front of him, but you could see the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“There are worse things I could be,” you shot back, your voice laced with a mix of defensiveness and defiance.

“S’pose that’s true,” he replied, finishing up his polishing with the air of someone who had all the time in the world. He set the glass down next to the others—clean, polished, and waiting to be used. With a fluid motion, he slung the rag over his shoulder, then placed one hand on his hip and the other on the edge of the counter. He shifted his weight, leaning just slightly into the bar, his posture relaxed yet somehow still imposing.

“But on the other hand,” he said, his voice dropping to a more serious tone, “what you already are ain’t too good either.”

It wasn’t a threat—more of an observation, one that hung heavily in the air, like the smoke in the room. You felt the weight of it, but you couldn’t quite tell if it was a warning or just another way to mess with you. Either way, you could tell this conversation wasn’t over.

You could feel the first few bubbles of anger rising in your chest, the heat creeping up your neck as your blood threatened to boil. You’d always been quick to anger—an unfortunate side effect of your temper and stubborn streak. They were the crosses you’d carried for as long as you could remember.

You scoffed again, the sound sharp and biting, as if it were the only defense you had left. You had already rolled your eyes a dozen times tonight, but it felt like you were on the verge of an explosion.

“What’s your goal here, Gramps?” you spat, your voice dripping with sass, every word a little jab. You didn’t care to hide your bitterness. You liked to fight with words just as much as you did with your fists, and the bartender was starting to see that loud and clear.

“You got the answer you were looking for. Whether you believe me or not, you’ve already served me twice. If my age was such a concern to you, you would’ve kicked me out long before I even sat down.” Your words hung in the air once more, and you could see the gears turning behind his eyes, but he didn’t speak.

He just let out a quiet laugh, as if your logic amused him. And he didn’t bother to answer, not even in the slightest.

The silence stretched, thick and tense, and it was clear he wasn’t going to explain himself. He wasn’t about to give you the satisfaction of an explanation. He simply leaned back, eyes flicking over to the rowdy crowd behind you.

It was infuriating.

You stayed silent for a beat, but only because you knew you’d have more to say. And damn right, you did.

“Do you do this with every new customer?” You snapped, your voice rising now, the frustration boiling over. “’Cause if you ask me, I’m not sure how this shithole’s still in business. You discourage your customers from drinking, even though this is a fucking bar, and that’s all people come here to do. You make it impossible to drink peacefully, just like you make it impossible to drink at all!”

The words spilled out like fire, each one more forceful than the last. Your temper was no longer something you were trying to hold back—it was running rampant, and it felt good to let it out, even if it was in the form of a scream. You weren’t about to let this bartender—this stubborn old man—have the upper hand. Not when it felt like he was deliberately pushing your buttons.

“So if it’s alright with you, Gramps, you got your answer, and I don’t owe you shit. I’m leaving.” You actually raise your voice purposefully this time, slamming your hands down onto the counter as you push yourself off of the stool once more.

The bartender wasn’t fazed by your outburst. In fact, he’d dealt with feistier, louder, and much more difficult people than you—people who could out-shout you or out-punch you if they had to. He wasn’t bothered by your temper. He had raised four kids on his own, after all. He’d learned a thing or two about handling stubborn personalities, whether they were kids or grown adults who carried themselves like children. And you, in his eyes, were just another brat testing his patience.

“You’re not going anywhere.” His voice was steady, calm, and authoritative, with an edge of finality that cut through the noise of the bar.

Before you could react, his hand shot out faster than you expected, grabbing your shoulder with an unexpected gentleness. He tugged you back into the seat with a kind of effortless force that made your breath catch in your throat.

You shot up from the bar stool in a flash, but his hold was stronger than you anticipated.

Instinct kicked in, and your own hand shot out like a snake, grabbing his wrist with a quick, almost violent motion. You shoved it off your shoulder, irritation flaring up like wildfire.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, your chest heaving as you glared up at him, the heat of the moment burning in your eyes.

You huffed, your fists clenching at your sides, teeth grinding. The room seemed to close in around you, but you weren’t backing down—not now, not after all of this. The tension between you and the bartender was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. You could feel the weight of the crowd’s silent attention being drawn to you once more as they waited for your next move, but you weren’t afraid. You didn’t have time to be.

The man let out a heavy sigh, the sound thick with disappointment.

“Look, kid—”

“By the fucking god’s, I’m not a kid!” you snapped, your eyes flashing a level of ferocity that sliced straight through him.

He pressed his lips into a thin, hard line, his gaze cemented on you still as he took a long, steadying breath. Patience was his virtue, and he was willing to endure this sparring match for as long as it took.

“It’s clear you’re in some kind of trouble,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Maybe, just maybe, instead of lashing out, you could let someone help—”

You cut him off mid-sentence, your words an unpleasant interruption.

“Help? You want to help? Surely that’s the wrong word. Surely, I heard you wrong, cause, from the way I see it, you’ve done nothing except cage me in here, threaten me, and withhold what I paid for. So if it’s with any consolation, take your ‘help’ and fuck off.”

Enough was enough. Without another word, you climbed atop the stool, bracing yourself for what came next. You steadied your balance, then launched yourself toward the crowd with calculated precision. The dismount was quick—intentional, forceful. You tucked your legs in, soaring over their heads in a perfect flip, and extended them just before hitting the ground behind them. Without pausing, you bolted for the door, heart pounding in your chest.

To your surprise, you made it—flying through the door and slamming it shut behind you with a satisfying crash. Finally, you were free, never to be seen within a hundred yards of this bar ever again.

The patrons had made a half-hearted attempt to grab at you as you rushed past, but a sharp, deafening whistle from the bartender stopped them in their strides. He shook his head softly, a silent message that it wasn’t worth the chase. That it was better to let you go. If you were in trouble, it would catch up with you soon enough.

Deep down, the bartender hated seeing someone so young seal their own fate in such a way. But, in the end, there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t save them all—no matter how badly he wished he could.

He couldn’t help but wonder— if maybe, just maybe, he’d been a little too assertive, or downright impetuous with you after all.

But it didn’t matter now. You were gone. All he could do was hope you’d survive out on those streets.

taglist: @blogforhoes @committingcrimes-2047 @dirtandcrime @eternalgoddessofart @woozulo @lutaaaslostacc-d8 @heidiland05 @sugaaawaraaa @glenn-slayer

#arcane #arcane x reader fic #arcane x reader #vander arcane #vander x reader #vander x reader fic #vander x reader smut #vander x gn!reader #vander x reader arcane #vander x female reader #arcane imagine #vander x reader imagine

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anna-proxx · 7 months ago

Note

pretty please can we have arthur morgan falling in love with hyperfem! reader? ur stuff is always so so yummy,, no pressure ofc! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

⭒✧⋆｡guns n' bows ✧⋆｡⭒

pairing: Arthur Morgan x hyperfem!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst (good ending)

summary: Arthur finds himself adoring a dainty woman who joined the gang a while ago. It suddenly becomes clear to him he has fallen in love.

word count: 3294

tags: high honor arthur, fem!reader, (mutual) pining, arthur being a sweetheart

a/n: thank u so much, dolly! i had a few ideas on how to approach this and decided to make it more story-based and focus on arthur's inner process as he realizes he's in love with the reader (as i would imagine it to go). if you'd like something a bit different, lmk! i've been wanting to write a hyperfem fic for a while now, so i had fun with it. also, i'm thinking about writing a pt. 2 where i'd focus more on the reader's pov and have arthur express his feelings more (be a cutie around her) and confess his love. <3

dividers by @saradika / @saradika-graphics

✮ masterlist

Arthur Morgan wasn't used to being gentle with people. His hands were rough and calloused and his muscle memory trained to draw his guns and shoot. They were meant to be a weapon, to protect and harm for the people he considered his family.

Perhaps he had it in him, but there was no reason to be soft and gentle – the world was just as rough as him and he was assigned the burden of fighting against it. The softest he could get was between the pages of his journal as he wrote about his thoughts and sketched owls and beavers and when he patted dogs and talked to his horse.

But most of those were away from prying eyes and frankly, the role of a dense criminal prized for his brawn comfortably fit around his overlooked qualities, as that was all he needed to be. To survive, to fulfill his role.

And yet you saw right through it. Of course you did, you had a good heart, open to whoever you saw goodness in. While some might write Arthur off as a rugged criminal only, you noticed his edges weren't as sharp as he tried making them seem to be.

His duties were violent, sometimes brutal, the earth soaking up blood of his enemies and his image reflecting in their eyes as the last thing before they closed them forever. To some, he was their biggest nightmare. He wasn't a good man, to believe so would be naive and foolish, but he wasn't all bad either, as some would think.

Your heart was big enough to accept his sins and leave the judgment to whatever was above, meanwhile you sought his presence as it brought you a strangely warm sense of security and comfort. Like moth to a flame, his different nature allured you. Hardened on the outside and soft-hearted on the inside.

Perhaps that was the reason you found yourself liking this big outlaw. Scooted towards him at the campfire, or sat nearby and watched him as he lied on his cot and scribbled something into his journal.

You might've been fragile and soft spoken, but you weren't stupid and your intuition on people was like a radar you could wholeheartedly trust. So you did.

Arthur didn't exactly know you sometimes looked for his presence, but he did notice you were comfortable around him.

It baffled him a little – you were so small compared to him, wearing lace and frills and cute little bows in your hair and yet you didn't seem to be intimidated by his appearance or demeanor at all. It sparked joy inside of him whenever you'd come to him blabbering about the rainbow you saw or gave him a soft smile as your eyes met.

You never treated him with judgment or revulsion, despite knowing very well your morals were against everything he was doing. Just how big of a sweetheart were you to do that? He never said it, but it meant a lot to him.

He felt as though you weren't even a part of all this. You were like a gem among roughened stones or a flower growing in gravel, reading in your tent and braiding your horse's mane while he washed blood off his hands.

And truth be told, because of that, he found you to be soothing and healing for his battered soul. It was so different, to be around someone like you.

You brought out a side of him he didn't know he had, one that was more tender than he was used to be. He didn't feel so angry or cynical, even after a job gone wrong. When he was with you, being gentle was easy.

At the beginning, when you first fell with the gang, it was doubt and hesitation he felt towards you. You were so... untouched by the world's cruelty, so innocent and open-hearted.

Arthur assumed you were naive and feeble, not only in the physical sense but mental as well. The world posed a huge threat to someone like you and he was worried you wouldn't survive in such circumstances. He was convinced you'd run after a few weeks but you did no such thing.

As the months passed, you stayed with the gang, patient and resilient while remaining soft and feminine. You helped where you could and offered a listening ear to anyone who needed it; even managed to get Arthur to open up to you when you two were alone. And you barely ever complained, even ate all Pearson's stews though you must've been used to eating fine food. And you lit up the space wherever you went. Your optimism was invincible. How the hell were you managing to do that?

It dawned on him he must've terribly underestimated you and his doubtfulness turned into admiration and intrigue. You were one fascinating little thing.

Things have been going quite downhill, so he kept checking up on you and you always had a warm smile to offer. You were still sweet and charming, even with the law on your tail.

You were his polar opposite, gentle waves of the sea splashing against hard rocks hot from the sun. Soft clouds concealing the sky after a raging storm. A calm rain on a hot summer day.

Arthur had no intentions of falling in love ever again.

But his heart was a sneaky little traitor.

Dusk softly illuminated the lake's surface when he found you sitting on the pier, your feet splashing in the water. You put your shoes beside you and held the skirt of your dress at your knees to avoid getting it wet. It was your favorite, white and pink, the corset decorated with little bows at the front. Your locks curled loosely over your shoulders, a light pink bow tying some of it at the back of your head.

You looked so vulnerable and cute lost in your thoughts like this, your feet creating creases in the water as you idly watched them. You had no company with you, only a couple of ducks swimming nearby and butterflies fluttering their wings around your head.

Arthur wondered what your mind was occupied with and before he could properly think it through, his steps directed towards your small frame lit by warm light.

You were pondering on the events of the past few weeks when the heavy steps on the wooden planks caught your attention. Turning your head to look up at the person coming, your eyes lit up as you saw it was your favorite one.

"Arthur!" you called out, your big doe eyes digging a pit in Arthur's stomach.

"[Name]. How are you?" His gaze lingered on you as he stood before you, his hands placed on the gun belt around his hips. You found the concern sweet. Instead of it being a casual phrase, his eyes studied you for an actual answer.

"Good, I think. What about you?" Your voice was smooth like honey and inviting, giving the outlaw something to lean into.

"'M alright," his voice rumbled as he shifted on his feet, his gaze dropping to the ground. "Ya like this place?"

You shortly looked around, taking in the view of the trees and dim sky reflected back in the peaceful lake.

"I do, it's such a charming spot." You looked back into Arthur's face, catching a hint of a smile on his lips.

"'M glad to hear that."

You could almost hear his goodbye that would follow but before he had the chance, you spoke.

"Come on, join me." You patted the spot next to you and slightly turned your body towards Arthur when he sat beside you.

Arthur was a bit at loss of words, always quick with his witty responses but uncertain around you. Your flowery perfume overcame him, then the sight of your rosy cheeks and full lips. You looked like a doll, looking at him through your long lashes with the most innocent look in your eyes.

For a moment your company made him forget about everything. He felt like just a man instead of a sinner, leaning into the silent acceptance you provided him.

You swung your feet in the water. "What did you do today?" you asked kindly, no trace of judgment.

Arthur sighed, recalling the day's events. "Robbed a stagecoach, had to shoot 'em guards. Met a few of the O'Driscoll boys too."

He wasn't one to sugarcoat things, especially when there was no reason to. You knew what kind of person he was and despite you never expressing disgust, he knew you must've had certain sentiments of him and they were all true. He was no better than the crooks he fought. And yet, with you, he wished he was.

Your gaze found his hand resting over his knee, barely dried blood on his knuckles.

"Oh, Arthur!" You took his hand in his, examining the damage with focus as you held his palm with both your hands, yours small in comparison to his.

Arthur's breath faltered in his throat. A lukewarm feeling settled in his chest and slight panic ran through his mind as he was slow to realize just what was happening. The warm touch of your smooth fingers was unusually intensive and he wished for the moment to never stop, as if he ever cared for such things.

He felt silly for it. What was happening with him? Why did he feel such fondness at your delicate hands cradling his, the slight blush on your cheeks, the flyaway hairs around your head?

He furrowed his brow at the unfamiliar tightness in his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat picking up on pace.

He hasn't felt this way ever since...

"Your poor knuckles," you mumbled while gently running your finger over the bruises. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen them healed."

Your tone was nothing but caring, as if Arthur hadn't used the fist to break someone's jaw. You put his hand away, putting yours in your lap as you continued bathing your feet in the water and watching the thoughtful look on Arthur's face as he softly looked at you.

Arthur cleared his throat, chasing all the crazy thoughts away. "And how's yer day been?"

You tactfully ignored the change of topic and played around with your necklace as you spoke. "Well, it was alright. I've been doing chores almost whole day, then went to Rhodes for some supplies with Tilly and Javier. He also taught me a bit of one Spanish song!"

Oh did he? A pang of jealousy struck him. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Arthur, everything okay?" you asked, your brow furrowed at the sight of his troubled expression.

"Sure, 'm... just tired, that's all."

You nodded, looking at the sky coloring itself in blueish grays. "Yeah, I might go to sleep earlier today as well, I reckon."

Pulling your feet out of the water, you started putting on your shoes while Arthur stood up, offering you a hand by the time you were done. You smiled up at him and accepted his hand, being effortlessly pulled up to your feet.

"Thank you, Arthur."

Your voice wouldn't leave his head, even after you walked towards your tent, disappearing from his sight. He walked to his own one in a trance, left with many unanswered questions in his head.

This wasn't like him, even less to be so confused by his feelings. And yet, as he lay in his cot that night, he kept going back to the moment at the lake, imagining what it would've felt like to brush his fingers through your soft hair or cup your cheek.

Another heavy sigh.

Only yesterday you were still just you. A kind girl they had rescued when she had nowhere else to go, a young woman who–

No, who was he kidding. The warning signs had been there long before; the warmth in his chest whenever he saw you, that little jump his heart did when you said his name, the joy he felt when you asked him for small favors.

It gnawed at him, the sense of knowing he tried pushing away.

He fell in love with you. Somewhere along the way, without taking notice. As complicated and messy it would make things, in a way, admitting to himself the feelings he had for you felt relieving.

How was he so stupid not to realize sooner?

He loved the way you got excited over making flower crowns and how you'd weave some for the girls. He loved when he saw you consoling and comforting Karen into putting the bottle away, or even being kind to that bastard Kieran. He loved when he found you playing with Jack, letting him put flowers in your hair. He loved your feminine gaze, the one that would capture all his attention, or how your kindness towards him made him feel. As if there was still hope for him, as if he wasn't damned after all.

But there was a tight knot in his stomach. He might've set himself up for another heartbreak. How could you want someone like him?

Arthur fell asleep riddled with contradicting thoughts that night.

The new reality of being in love with you gave him a sort of solace. But it wasn't until morning that he decided he could only do one thing – keep his distance. For both his and your sake.

You were beautiful and dainty like a rose, but he was the thorns.

Arthur did as he promised to himself – despite the stolen glances and wishful thoughts split in half, he would avoid you, though it wasn't as apparent as he's been so busy lately. Not like he would complain about that, if anything, it took his mind off you, even if not for long.

Above all he wanted to return to camp after a difficult job and be close to you, talk to you, feel your calming presence.

What he didn't expect with his plan was how much it would wear him down.

But the last thing he wanted was to hurt you, which he assumed would eventually happen, or lose his head for someone who wouldn't reciprocate the same feelings back.

He returned to camp late today. In the middle of the night when everyone was already asleep. He wanted nothing more than to lie down in his cot, his shoulders slouched as he got down from the saddle and patted his horse a good night, unsaddling him to give him some rest too. The night was quiet and tranquil, like peace after a storm, given how Arthur's day went.

It has been weeks since Arthur had realized he had feelings for you by this point and looking towards the tents, he couldn't help but wonder whether you were alright. He hasn't been around much lately, so he could only guess you continued to be true to who you've been since the beginning. With ribbons in your hair and a dreamy look in your face.

He sighed at the image. What a lovestruck fool he was.

He missed your sleepy eyes and the little wrinkle between your eyebrows when you were confused.

As if something listened to his wishes, a small figure emerged from the shadows and he realized it was you.

Wearing your undergarments, bloomers with frills and lace, you made your way straight towards him. Your hair was in two braids tied by pink ribbons, though a bit messy from sleep, and the loose strands of hair tucked behind your ear.

He froze in place, watching you get closer while his heart went a little crazy. A part of him was happy to see you approaching him, whatever the reason for that was. It made him feel fuzzy inside and that scared him more than any gunfight.

"Arthur!" you called out for him with a slightly shaky voice, not stopping your steps until you stood right before him.

Arthur fought the urge to reach out for you as he saw you small and vulnerable, looking up at him with need, his heart struck with fear when he noticed the little tears in your eyes.

"[Name], what's wrong?" There was urgency in his voice, a worried look in his eyes and panic coursing through his veins.

You held a sob as you spoke, hugging yourself with your arms, a few of the loose strands falling into your face.

"J-just a nightmare. I woke up so s-scared." You started to shiver as you recalled the frightening images. As soft as you were on the outside, you had a vivid imagination and your nightmares could get very eerie and gruesome, causing chills to travel up your spine every time the memory flashed before your eyes.

Arthur's instincts now clutched his heart tightly, a knot tying itself in his stomach. He hated seeing you like this, helpless, afraid and trembling. The sight of you awakened every bit of his protective nature and he didn't want anything more than to hold you and never let you go, even put his life on the line just to keep you safe.

He didn't think twice.

"Aw, c'mere," he proposed in a low warm voice, enveloping you in his embrace gently enough to give you the option of changing your mind.

But you snuggled into the hug instead, a small sob escaping you as you wrapped your arms around his torso, your arms barely connecting behind his back.

He was so warm and firm and you have never felt safer in your whole life. The anxiety was slowly mellowed out, filling your heart with affection instead.

Arthur breathed in your scent and it made him feel lightheaded, and to feel your soft warm body pressed against his felt like a dream.

You were so delicate in his arms and your exposed skin made it hard for him to keep his thoughts straight. He was a gentleman of course, but his heart raced nonetheless and he feared you could hear it beating against your ear.

"It's okay, t'was just a dream." His voice was soothing and warm, and it worked like a charm. He consoled you with strokes on your back, his big palms hot through the thin layer of your undergarments.

"What horrible thin' did ya dream 'bout?" Arthur asked, his embrace not loosening around you. He was quite happy like this, protecting you between his arms, as if you always belonged there.

You kept your face nuzzled to his chest, comfortably leaning into the hug.

You started talking about the dream and he listened. A monster, you said, something big and deranged sneaking its way around to its victims. You rambled about the details, your descriptions a mess as you spoke in loose tangles.

Arthur slightly smiled at your stuttering, it made you even more adorable than you already were, though he didn't know it was even possible.

He would kill anyone who'd dare to touch you.

"'M the only scary thing 'round here 'm afraid," Arthur muttered, his chest rumbling under your head.

"As if," you retorted with your voice muffled, certainty in your disagreement.

It caught Arthur off guard a little and nervousness arose in him as he asked the following question. "You ain't scared of me?"

He knew if there was even an ounce of fear in you, it would've killed him.

You looked up at him, your eyes big and glossy. "I feel safe with you, Arthur."

His heart dropped and he looked into your eyes completely baffled, not grasping how such a sweet creature like you could say such a thing to him.

You felt safe with him.

You did.

He felt vulnerable under your gaze; not even heavens could make him feel so exposed. He was afraid you could read his thoughts with that pretty mind of yours as you held the eye contact, that you could recognize how much he was now melting and crumbling inside.

So much for being a tough hardened criminal.

He felt like a teenager again. The sweating hands, tingles in his stomach, it was all back.

Arthur tightened his embrace, cuddling you closer.

As he held you under the starry sky, your tiny arms wrapped around him, he was sure of one thing.

He could do many things. But staying away from you was not one of them.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 fic #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan oneshot #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 oneshot #arthur morgan fluff #☆ annie writes #☆ annie's reqs

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hamzahsonlygirl · 9 months ago

Text

Tease.. (Hamzah NSFW)

- Bsf!Hamzah x f!reader

-Unprotected p! in v!, Dominate!hamzah x sub!reader, oral m! receiving, teasing, backshots, creampie.

-Summary: You and the gang are filming a video when there’s not enough seats and you have to sit in hamzahs lap, things get heated and eventually you and him go back to your place.

-YALL PLEASE GIVE ME REQUESTS IKK YALL WILL LIKE MY WRITING 🙏💕

-Proof read but lmk if i missed anything 🎀

———————-

Pink - Hamzah

Purple -You

Blue -Mandy

Orange -Martin

~~~~~~~~~~~~~🎀~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were sitting next to mandy as Hamzah and Martin returned to the room. You 4 were playing the sims for a video after the viewers wanted to see more of you. You and hamzah has always been close friends and sometimes even flirty but nothing ever too serious. Hamzah has brought you your favorite snacks and threw some snacks at mandy as well. Martin follows him with waters before sitting down next to mandy. Hamzah is left with no where to sit with there only being three desk chairs.

“Why doesn’t hamzah just sit on your lap?”

Mandy suggests while smiling teasingly

“I would crush her what??”

Hamzah says turning to mandy while waving his hands from the top of you head to the bottom to emphasize how small you are.

“Why not just switch?”

Martin said in a tone which means “How did you guys not think of that sooner?”

You look up at hamzah staring down at you. Today you wore a short white dress with a laced up back and a good amount of cleavage showing. Hey it’s was summer, it was cute, yk you would be on camera so you wore it. However you didn’t know you’d be sitting on hamzahs lap.

“You okay with that?”

Hamzah asks with concern obviously not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“Yeah of course, it’s cool!”

you say with a smile while your subconscious starts going to a place it shouldn’t. You stand up and hamzah passes you to sit down. As he sits his shorts ride up slightly, you see hips push up as he readjusts himself in the seat. You watch as his hips jerked up only making your thoughts turn more inappropriate. Mandy and Martin were entertaining the camera by doing a first bite review of their snacks. Hamzah now looking up at you through his dark lashes gave you a half smile before patting his lap gently, ushering you to sit down. You felt something pulse in you when he pat his lap. You brushed the bottom of your dress forward so another layer of fabric would be between your growing lower heat and his lap.

Martin and Mandy finish their first bite review and Mandy starts up the game. The fans loved you because you knew everything about the sims they loved your segment of shopping for cc (custom content) for whatever character the group wanted to make. Mandy pushed the keyboard to your side of the desk, forgetting you were on Hamzah you rocked your hips forward trying to push the chair closer to the desk. You heard Hamzahs breath hitch and his hand flew to your hips holding you still. You remembered who’s lap you were on you turned slightly around, trying not to move too much, and apologized with a half smile all the while feeling very embarrassed. He smirked at you after finally taking a breath in.

“It’s okay, y/n don’t worry”

He reached his left arm around your waist and held you down on him while he scooted the chair closer. Only after you were completely flustered did you relaized he only touched you to help you move closer to the keyboard.

Little did you know Hamzah was enjoying every second of seeing you like this. Even if you were just flirty friends, there were moments when you two were alone and the flirting felt all too real. As you were downloading the custom content and all of you were making jokes back and forth when you felt hamzahs left hand (the one facing the wall) start to fiddle with the hem of your dress which was now at thigh length. He made sure mandy and martin didn’t see by doing it this on the opposite side of them. He traced circles and small shapes on your thighs sometimes exploring slightly higher, always making sure the camera couldn’t see where his hand was going. He picked up his phone with his other hand and typed something as he kept tracing your thigh. Suddenly he laughed then said

“y/n, look at this”

He said with a smile on his face. When he raised his phone to you it showed a note saying “don’t make it obvious on camera 💗.” You pretended to laugh as hamzah put his phone down and yall joined the others convo. You couldn’t help but feel soaked over the fact hamzah didn’t want it to be obvious so he did all of that just to keep teasing you on camera.

Awhile passed before martin spoke up and told everyone how late it had gotten.

“Oh shit guys it’s 11” he scoffed not believing so much time had passed.

Suddenly there was a loud bang downstairs.

“Guys where’s carl?” (Mandy and Martins cat if you didn’t know ^_^)

Mandy asks as she looks around and sees no sight of him.

“fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck”

Martin starts chanting as him and mandy jump up to run down stairs and stop whatever mischief their cat is making. When they’re gone the door slams behind them and you quickly realize it’s just you and Hamzah alone. You don’t say anything as you can feel his eyes on your back. As you think about how it’d feel to have his hands push down your back into an arch position his fingers gently connect with the top of your spine; before slowly making their way down.

“Hamzah…”

You breathe out quietly. He makes no reply expect the change in touch, he took his fingers off your spine and started tracing the criss cross pattern on your open back dress.

“hmm?”

He finally hums. You realize what’s going on and quickly try to stand up but hamzahs hands grip onto your waist and hold you firmly on his lap.

“Please don’t run from me, y/n”

He says softly as he leaves small soft kisses on your spine and shoulders. You could feel something hard underneath you. You moved your hips slightly into his; this made him stop breathing for a second and you knew exactly what the hard thing was that pressed against your clothed heat.

You both could hear Mandy and Martin make their way back up the stairs. You looked over your shoulder at hamzah as he put a finger to his lips giving you the universal sign of “shhh” with a smirk on his lips. As you turned you head back around you couldn’t help but notice how attractive he is. As the couple sat down and are distracted hamzah carefully lifts the bottom of your dress from under you so it pools on his lap. He slowly reachers he hand higher up your body; looking into the camera making sure you can’t see. When he reaches high enough hes met with the surprise of you having no panties on. He leaned forward to whisper in your ear. His soft lips brushed up against your skin.

“you’re such a good girl, y/n.”

In that moment you could feel something leak out of you. You had to get out of there. As if the gods heard your need to not be in a room with Mandy and Martin anymore, Martin spoke up.

“Hamzah can you give y/n a ride home, carl made a huge mess down stairs, we can finish filming tomorrow.”

Hamzah almost jumped at the chance to drive you home but he kept his cool and replied with an almostttttttt too eager sounding

“Yeah, of course..”

The drive back from Martin and Mandy’s wasn’t too far but far enough to the point you didn’t know what to say after what just happened. You turned on the radio and the party and the after party came on. Hamzah side eyed you and raised his eyebrow slightly. You blushed not knowing THAT type of song would come on. He reached over the cup holders between you guys while keeping his eyes on the road.

It was dark blue outside and the road was dead. Hamzahs car was warm and smelled nice. His big hand was cold as he places it just a bit too high on your thigh. Without realizing it a small moan/sigh slipped through your lips which filled hamzahs confidence in a way you couldn’t even imagine.

You stare down at hamzahs huge hand on your thigh. “he’s never touched me like this before” you thought to yourself, imagining all the other ways you’d want him to touch you, to kiss you, be in you. He noticed your eyes lingering on his hand, he pushed your legs open slightly keeping his eyes on the road the whole time.

“What y/n? tell me what you want?”

He said while rubbing his middle and ring finger tips on your inner thigh. You knew he was doing that with those fingers on purpose…but it worked. You imagined how his long fingers would feel on your pulsing clit. This was just embarrassing at this point, you could feel yourself starting to drip onto his car. You stuttered at first trying to get out your needs to Hamzah.

“Please t-touch me hamzah…”

Your voice was barely above a whisper but it drove him insane just hearing you need him so desperately. his lifted your dress slightly higher before running a finger alone your wet folds.

“fuck y/n.” Hamzah breathed out softly after feeling how soaked you were for him.

You arrived at your place as hamzah turned off the car and tried to take his hand away you grabbed his wrist. He could see your half lided eyes and your front teeth sink into the soft flesh of your bottom lip. Your hair slightly messy infront. If he wasent rock hard from feeling how wet you were, he definitely was now. He could feel his cock starting to twitch as he continued to play with your clit and folds. You held his wrist inbetween your legs tightly, he bit his lip before speaking softly into your ear.

“if you think this feels good let me show you inside just how much of a good girl you are”

He said barley above a whisper while he placed soft kisses on your neck. Without a second thought you got out of the car and went inside your place as hamzah followed. When the door shut behind you both he pushed you against it. He studied your face for a moment

“can i kiss you, y/n”

This wasn’t you and hamzahs first kiss but it was your first sober kiss. You thought it was sweet how he asked and made sure. You nodded biting your bottom lip craving to know what his lips against yours felt like. He pulled you closer by your waist before leaning in softly to kiss you. The first few kisses were soft and slow, he wanted to remember this moment, remember how soft your lips felt; He thought about how good they’d feel wrapped around his cock. His mind drove him wild as he picked up and held you against the wall, now kissing you rougher.

You felt the bulge in his pants grow continuously as you grinded against him. You moaned as the head of his cock grinded against your sore clit.

“tell me what you want, baby, let me hear your pretty voice.”

He spoke to you so sweetly you could’ve came right there. You reached down to cup his bulge which made his cock throb under his boxers and shorts.

“i want you in my mouth, hamzah.”

You said to him shamelessly as you started up at him through your dark long lashes. He carried you to your bed and took his shirt off. You left your dress on knowing a white, lacy sundress turns him on crazy. (A fact he shared with you while you were both high out of your mind) You got on your hands and knees and slowly made your way up to his waist. You softly kissed down his stomach and v line. As you kissed his v line you started pulling his shorts down as he stared down at you with half lidded eyes. You bit your lip. His cock was throbbing under his now suffocatingly tight boxers.

“You’re so big, Hamzah”

You said breathlessly as you licked his tip through his boxers. His head fell back and his hands found a place in your hair.

“please y/n, i need you so badly.” He sighed while slightly moving his hips closer to your face.

In this moment you slowly pulled down his boxers letting his cock spring out and hit his stomach. Your eyes widened and he smirked and laughed at your reaction.

“aw cmon. you got this baby, who’s my good girl?”

He asked while reassuring you. He pumped his dick up and down slowly before carefully placing his tip ontop of your soft wet lips. His cock was throbbing and wanted nothing more but to fuck you senselessly but he knew good things come with patience.

“I’m your good girl.”

You said softly with a half smile before opening your mouth slightly and sticking your tongue out balancing his erection on it.

“you look so pretty like this…”

He started saying as he slapped his soft pink tip on your plush tongue. Before placing his cock on your face, enjoying the view of how you were HIS slut.

“…so pretty with my cock on your face. Does that make you horny baby, being treated like this?”

“it’s only cause it’s you treating me like this hamzah.”

You replied before grabbing him at the base and slowly licking your way up making sure to keep eye contact with each painfully slow lick. Your lips wrapped around his tip before slowly taking him all in your mouth. Your throat needed a second to adjust but when it did his moans only got louder. You loved how vocal he is.

“Fuck, fuck, that’s so good y/n. just like that!”

He moaned out as you bobbed your head up and down, quickening your pace. You made sure to focus on his tip and the underside of his cock, sucking his tip softly but hard, and making sure your tongue licks up and down the underside of his cock as he goes in and out of your mouth. He pulled your hair into a ponytail and started rolling his hips in and out of your wet mouth. You couldn’t help but giggle softly while seeing how good he was feeling from using you.

“hm? you think that’s funny?”

He asked in a cocky tone before pulling out from your mouth and throwing you on the bed. He slowly pulled down your dress straps while leaving pecks down your neck till he got to your breast. He looked up at you for consent that he could take your dress off. You smiled at him and he immediately untied the bow at the bottom of the criss cross pattern dress. When the top of the dress fell he stared at your bare tits for a moment before taking one of your nipples between his two fingers and rolling it softly while his mouth cupped around the other nipple and slowly began sucking. His tongue playing with your nipple moving it in every different direction. Your moans started to fill the room as your back arched wanting more and more of him. More of his touch.

“Yeah… not so funny now, right?”

He asked with a smirk on his face. He standing at the the edge of the bed with your bottom half right on the edge. His cock pressed against your wetness by accident as he pulled you closer by your hips. He fell slightly forward from the feeling. He couldn’t believe how wet and warm you were, all for him, and his dick was only rubbing against the outside of your pussy. You needed him inside you so badly you’d do anything, you’d beg for him if he wanted.

“Hamzah, please…please i need you”

You spoke softly almost whining, so desperately and needy it drove him insane he felt like his cock was going to explode if he didn’t fuck you right now.

“Cmon baby, talk to me, tell me what you want.”

He rubbed his tip on your clit, his precum and your wetness mixing on your folds.

“Please fuck m-me hamzah, fuck me like a slut i’m yours.”

You stuttered from the feeling of his head circling your clit.

“That’s my good girl…”

He trailed off before slowly pushing his huge cock into your small pussy. He couldn’t help but moan out your name as he bullied his way into your tight cunt. The feeling of him stretching you out for the first time was unbelievable. You wanted his cock to be in you all the time now. You didn’t even want to imagine how empty you’ll feel without him inside you.

“You okay baby, i’m not hurting you right?”

He asked concerned after hearing you whimpering underneath him. You quickly shook your head wanting nothing more then for him to be fully inside you.

“n-no please go deeper Hamzah. please.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at how desperate you were, he loved how you wanted his cock so bad you were pleading without him even asking.

“It’s only half way in, princess…you sure?”

He said calling you something he never had before. ‘princess’ you felt yourself become even more soaked and your juices coating the part of his cock that weren’t yet inside you. He felt your pussy try to suck him in deeper when he called you that and wasn’t about to let it go unmentioned.

“that turn you on…princess? you like when I call you that.”

He asked innocently before sharply thrusting the rest of his length into you. The wind was knocked out of you as you cry/moaned .

“fuck, fuck please do that again, keep going please hamzah”

You begged him, you needed his cock to hit that spot deep inside you again, however for hamzah that spot wasent so deep because he was so big. Every thrust he made into you felt like it went deeper and deeper. He started off with a slow and steady pace making sure your walls get used to his size. As he thrusted into you he mumbled sweet nothings in your ear.

“so…so warm.” “you’re doing so good for me.” “you like when I fuck you like this?”

Every word and every thrust pushed you further and further till a familiar feeling inside your stomach crept up on you. You felt yourself about to unravel on his cock and he could tell by how loud you were getting.

He flipped you over and arched you back down so you were in the doggy position before slamming his cock back into you and pulling you hips back and forth on this cock.

“yeah fuck yeah, just like that hamzah, fuck, youre so good…”

You moaned out as he pulled your hair back.

“Yeah princess tell me how good my cock feels fucking you..”

He quick ended his pace wanting nothing more but to cum together. He watched your pussy as he thrusted in and out of you. in. out. in. out. in. out. It was mesmerizing, the way your pussy sucked his cock in. So needy.

“Your cock feels so good inside me, baby”

You whimpered.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck hamzah im gonna cum…please please cum in me hamzah!”

You begged for his cum which made him slam his hips into your ass, fucking you at a pace and deepness you didn’t think was humanly possible.

“Yeah princess, cum on my cock, i want to feel that pretty little pussy twitch around me.”

Hamzah had learned you loved words and loved being told sweet nothings.

“i’m gonna fill that pretty little pussy up with my cum, so so deep inside you princess, is that what you want?”

This completely sent you over the edge as you came you begged hamzah to cum deep inside you. With a final few thrust you felt his cock twitch before feeling slightly more filled up than you did before. You could feel his cum move inside you as he slowly pulled out. Your body sank down from an arched position and hamzah carefully laid down and spooned you.

“so maybe we should talk about what all this means.”

~~~~~~~~~~🎀~~~~~~~~~~

Leaving it at that for now!! please send request i need more ideas. I’ll write specific kinks, scenarios rlly anything lol :3 besides anything under the influence, i personally don’t believe you can consent under any substance besides like weed lmao

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n #smut #hamzahsmut #slushy noobz

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flowercrowngods · 11 months ago

Text

“Baby?”

Steve lifts his head off the pillow to look at Eddie, his back arching in a much needed way after lying on his stomach for so long, and he ends up groaning appreciatively as he stretches his back a little more. It makes Eddie smile. All the small things do.

Overcome with sudden but gentle affection, Steve rolls over with a matching smile and comes to a stop lying halfway beneath Eddie, getting a glorious view of his deepening dimples.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been thinking,” Eddie says, his hand coming up to brush Steve’s hair out of his forehead. Steve leans into his warmth a little further, feeling so incredibly loved when Eddie looks at him like that.

It’s infinite, what he feels for Eddie. What he feels with Eddie.

“Oh? ‘Bout what?”

Eddie leans down and brushes a kiss to the tip of Steve’s nose. “You,” he says. “Me. Us.”

Steve hums, wrapping himself in Eddie’s scent as he buries his face in his chest, his arms trapped between them. He can’t move. Can hardly breathe. It’s perfect, and Eddie always indulges his cat-like tendencies, as he calls it.

“Tell me about your thoughts?”

A hand weaves its way into his hair, scratching wonderfully along his scalp in lazy, soothing patterns.

“I’m gonna put pillows on the walls for you.”

“Hmm?”

“When we have our own place. I’m gonna put pillows on the walls for you. In the kitchen even, so you can sit on the floor and still be comfy. You can have a little nook for floor time with Robin. And it’s gonna be padded with pillows, but the ones that are still solid. Only a little soft. Still grounding.” Eddie mumbles, a little lost in thought like he’s still imagining it all unfold.

Steve melts, first rolling further into him and then back, so he can look up and meet those soft, soft eyes.

“That’s what you’re thinking about?”

“All the time. Never wanna tell you about it so I won’t ruin the surprise, but, I don’t know. Wanted to tell you. You’re gonna have bougie-ass wall pillows, angel.”

And Steve doesn’t know how to handle this. How to take it all, take everything Eddie gives him and live his life an unchanged man. His heart is going to burst one of these days. It’s gonna burst and it’s gonna go everywhere, remind the world for all eternity of the love they shared. Built. Shaped and reshaped in all the ways they needed.

“Everything,” he says, his voice weak with the awe he feels, his own hand coming up to Eddie’s cheek.

“Hmm?” Eddie’s nuzzling the palm of his hand, brushing kiss over kiss to the centre.

“You’re— You’re everything. Can’t believe it sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?” Eddie teases, making Steve laugh for the first time in hours. It’s easy. God, it’s so easy.

“Don’t be so full of yourself.”

“Oh, I’m gonna be full of som—“

Laughing, Steve claps his hand over Eddie’s mouth, shutting him up and revelling in the giggle that follows before Eddie nips on his palm.

“I hate you,” Steve grins, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s middle.

“Yeah, well,” he hums, fond affection settling permanently on that pretty, pretty face. “‘M still gonna put pillows on the wall for you.”

Steve sighs, hoping to relieve some of the intensity he’s feeling. It’s overwhelming, even after all this time.

“I love you.”

“I love you,” Eddie whispers, hovering above him in an almost-kiss. “Endlessly.”

@puppy-steve i love you. i’d put pillows on the wall for you 🤍🌷

🤍 permanent tag list gang (i hope this is okay even though it’s only a tiny thing) (and maybe some reprieve from all my current angst): @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer (lmk if you want on or off)

#steddie fic #steddie #dio words #steve harrington #eddie munson #dio’s steddie ramblings #floor time #<- going back to my OG steddie ways even if it’s only implied #they’re soooo in love smh #cj i’m holding you ily so much i miss talking to you (i just suck) but pls this is for you i hope it makes things better 🥺🤍

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ningvory · 11 months ago

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♡ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ME & YOU ┊ kim minjeong

parings: cop!gp!minjeong x criminal!f!reader

synopsis: after the gang you were affiliated with was found, cops came and and killed almost everyone. you were left with having to take them down yourself, just when you thought you thought you got them all, a young woman caught you. that woman being kim minjeong.

warnings: omg!? 1k followers already!? tysm you guys!! it’s only been a month and a few weeks since i started this blog and i had NO experience with writing, means a lot to me so i hope you enjoy this fic!! reader is lowkey a bitch, minjeong is cocky, violent, lotss of profanity, angry sex, minjeong fucks you in her office, oral (minjeong receiving), choking, cum swallowing, minjeong rubs your clit, overstimulation kinda, reader just needed a good fuck fr, unprotected sex (big no no guys!), cockwarming, minjeong’s office is soundproof, reader gets manhandled, they kiss like once, lmk if i missed anything!!

breaking the rules was second nature. you were involved in a gang which could've been the best or the worst choice of your life. you were mainly known for stealing because of how quiet you are. they start to think you're a trained assassin. you never used violence unless it was absolutely necessary, you preferred to keep your hands clean from some randoms blood when doing your job. you always went for luxury items, you're a expensive girl, anything that caught your eye you got it.

the gang you're affiliated had been on the most wanted list for some time. most wanted criminals on the loose ever since some jackass decided to shoot a guy at the club for finding and swallowing the illegal drugs, which the police found after some time of fully inspecting it. when you were notified you wanted to kill the guy off yourself, you weren't into taking drugs so you questioned how hard is it to keep them unnoticed.

no one seem to be aware of the police finding the base so when you heard the sound of a door getting kicked down and gun shots being fired, you jumped. you were half asleep due to it being close to 3 in the morning, they must've picked a late time thinking that you all were asleep so you wouldn't put up much of a fight.

you quickly jumped out of your bed, adrenaline running in your veins as you found a knife and a gun. you wanted to accept your fate but your pride was ahead of you, you aren't going down without a bit of a fight. they would have to take you dead or unconscious.

you ran out your room and was met with chaos. what was known as your home has now became a battlefield, your friends and coworkers were dead on the floor, their blood surrounding them. this just fueled the flame but you knew to keep your composure.

you quietly went downstairs, not making a sound and began shooting at every cop you see. dodging their bullets and using their dead comrades as a shield as you ran toward them, getting close enough so you can stab them.

it was a one woman army, shooting them all until it was only you left standing, white dress gown drenched with their blood as well as the rest of your body. the smell of blood makes you sick to your stomach every time. just when you thought you killed them all, someone attempted to shoot you. making you drop your knife from the shock. the perpetrator took the opportunity to try and pin you down but you were quicker, you kick their side and pulled their hair, bringing their face close to yours.

you inspected the perpetrator, it was a woman who you gotta admit, is stunning with short dark orange hair that was faded to black who stared back at you. you were about to land a punch her way but was met with the feeling us electricity being zapped through you which made you let out a scream.

"bitch! get off of me!" you screamed at the woman you was sitting on your tummy.

your words seemed to phase her because she landed a forceful slap to the side of your face which made you yelp and attempt to hit her back. she was obviously more stronger than your current state because she almost effortlessly pinned your hand above you and used her other hand to choke you.

you were gasping and twisting your body around in a attempt to get her off of you. strangled moans and whines spilling from your mouth and tears filling your waterline, threatening to fall at any given moment. just when you felt you were completely out of air, she let go and placed a cloth over you lips and nose, forcing you to breathe in the substance on the cloth. your struggle evidently grew slower and less frantic and your eyes were half lidded, threatening to close as your vision began to blur until you were met with a void of darkness.

you jumped up from your sleep, breathing staggered and panic filled your eyes as you struggle to manage what all took place. your memories came back to you as you calmed your breathing, you've been caught, you're not even aware if anyone else made it out alive or if they were all killed. you took a look around the unfamiliar room and looked down at your body, you're now wearing an orange prison suit, with what appears to be black sneakers.

"you awake now sleepy beauty?" a husky voice spoke which made you turn your head to the direction of where you heard the voice.

it was the same woman from yesterday, manspreading in a chair in your room.

"were you watching me sleep? ever heard of privacy?" you questioned, attitude laced in your voice.

"say bye to privacy, you get none of that here. wake up 'cause this is your new life." she smirked looking dead in your eyes, fixing her posture in the chair.

"you've slept long, its already lunch time." she spoke again, standing up and walking to the door, which made you stand up when she put her fingers in a "come here" motion.

the woman, which now you know as, minjeong by her coworkers but winter to the prisoners gave you a tour around the prison. showing where everything is, you don't understand why she's doing this. all the prison movies you've seen never shown a cop giving fresh meat a tour.

you don't even know how long your sentence is but you surely hated this lifestyle, the food was so shitty you spit it back out.

"who the fuck is cooking back there because they personally need to get their ass beat for cooking this shit. i'd rather starve." you muttered.

"they'll force you to eat if you don't yourself. they go as far as to stick a tube in your tummy and feed you like that." an inmate told you.

you began chatting with the inmate that you found out was karina, she was totally gonna be your best friend in this hell hole.

the first few days have been okay, you always had an uncomfortable sleep because you were sleeping on literal metal. the other inmates would always look at you creepily which freaked you out a bit, especially in the shower room. but luckily karina came in there with you. with minjeong, you hated her. from her cock ass attitude to the way she would just look so fine. it just pissed you off all together and you made her aware of that. throwing mean words at her anytime you get such as, "bitch, don't touch me." "leave me the fuck alone, bitch." she let it slide but today it seemed she was in a bad mood and she wasn't having none of it.

you woke up and she was in your room, like always. you always poke your fun at her, wanting to hit a nerve so bad so you can laugh in her face.

"you're such a fuckin' creep. don't you have something better to do than be in my room everyday even when i'm sleep?" you questioned, trying to sound annoyed but you do in fact don't mind her in here.

she said nothing but stood up and walked over to you, hooded eyes staring back into your eyes. it startled you, taking a gulp as she walked over to you before grabbing your arm and yanking and you up. dragging you to an unknown place.

"yah! what the fuck — where are we going!?" you whispered not wanting to drag attention to yourself.

she remained quiet, but you felt her hand squeeze your arm, telling you to shut up. so you did, listening to her for the first time letting her drag you to wherever it was that she was taking you to.

you were dragged into what looked like an office, her office. you inspected the area wondering why she brought you here.

"the fuck are we in here for— ah! what the hell?!" you were cut off when you were pushed down to the ground right in front of her black couch.

minjeong stood right in front of you and that’s when you finally saw it, her hard boner pressing against her cop uniform. just the position of you guys had made it visible what she was gonna make you do making you gulp.

minjeong, after making sure you see her problem, started undressing her bottom half. once she took off her boxers her cock rested flat against her tummy, angry red cock leaking precum already.

“go on” she muttered out, patience running thin.

“hah! make me— mph!” the words died down in your throat because she sure as hell did force you.

her hands gripped your head, keeping your head in place while her hips were thrusting wildly into your warm mouth. tears were running down your face while you were gagging on her thick cock, hands on her thighs trying to push you outta her mouth but she was far more stronger than you.

“fuckk! you’re so pretty like th-this, not being a mean bitch. ngh! yea — just keep your pretty eyes on me.” minjeong groaned, forcing you to keep eye contact while she used you as a flesh light.

“fuck! g’na cum! and you’re gonna swallow it all.” she groaned.

her hips began to stutter as she picked up the pace, thrusting wildly into your mouth making you gag until she stopped. your nose was on her pelvis, throat burning while you’re trying to breathe through your nose. she finally came, seed shooting down your throat, more tears prickling your eyes as you swallowed up all of her seed.

she finally pulled out, strings of your spit connected to her cock until the string broke. you were gasping, trying to inhale as much air as you can. she barely gave you a break because she manhandled you on the couch and pushed into you, making you scream she was fucking into you with no prep, you never had something so big in you!

you were screaming trying to run away from her until she pined you to the couch. thrusts were fast and hard making your body push up with every thrust.

“nghh- ah! wait — slow down!!” you cried, eyes shut and back arching with your hands frantically looking for something to grip on.

it was like she didn’t even hear you, her hips had a mind of its own. she growled seeing her bulging your tummy, removing her hand to toy with your clit and the other to press down on your tummy bulge. making you let out pornographic moans which are basically screams until she shut you up with a kiss, all your moans were muffled by minjeong until you came all over her and her couch!

she let you ride out your high, pumping into you until she’s cumming into you, painting your tight walls white.

“you just needed a good fuck, huh?” minjeong said, your attitude was the complete opposite from your regular one with her. you were on her lap, head resting on her shoulder while cockwarming her.

“oh shut up!” you groaned, lightly hitting her making her chuckle.

let’s just say, this affair was between you and her and you both were fucked if anyone ever found out! <33

#ningvory #kpop smut #aespa smut #g!p #wlw smut #aespa x fem reader #aespa winter smut #winter x fem reader #winter smut #minjeong smut

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