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clarionglass · 6 months ago

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here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

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sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine?

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait!

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him.

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs.

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look.

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace.

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign.

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm.

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity.

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor.

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief.

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling.

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!”

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him.

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage.

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps.

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break.

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope.

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still.

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall.

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed.

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw.

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

#game master #sam reich!master #doctor who #dw #dropout #game changer #you know what let's chuck some character tags in here #15th doctor #the master #sam reich #brennan lee mulligan #grant o'brien #kaylin mahoney #clari speaks #clari writes #ah darlings i'm putting my chat down here rather than in the post body for once #so i've thought of this whole saga as 'part three' but i will be a) titling them all and b) just keeping on numbering the parts sequentiall #rather than 'part three part one' etc #otherwise we're getting into homestuck act titling territory and that is ground i do not wish to tread #also fuck i hope i've got the time zones right #i'm planning to post this when an episode of game changer would ordinarily be released. to plug the gap. to tide us over.#(the finale trailer is so delightfully unhinged and i cannot wait til next week)#anyway gang this one was wild #the slight but significant genre shift from 'game changer with doctor who elements' to 'doctor who with game changer elements'#it was fun to write! and hopefully fun to read :)#also i MUST say that eugene northernfireart has a baller comic in the works that this entire thing is based on #this is thousands of words of setup and continuation because the sketch idea was so good it possessed me #and we decided that it had to be a proper dw episode #(hey rtd hire me pls)#anyway eugene is on hiatus bc of life so in the meantime go give him love and be Fuckin Hyped for the comic when it appears bc i know i am

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sky-is-the-limit · 9 months ago

Note

I dunno about you but drunk sex slays and the thought of it with one out of the big red dead four (John Arthur Charles or Javier) just makes me 🌊💦💧

Thank you anon for this:))))))))))

WC: 5,117 words.

P: Arthur,John,Javier and Charles x F!Reader

CW: public sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, cowgirl

𝘈𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘳:

You sat by the crackling campfire, the night draped around you like a comforting blanket, waiting patiently for Arthur to return from his outing with Lenny.

As the minutes stretched into hours, the quiet of the night was suddenly shattered by the sound of husky laughter and stumbling footsteps approaching the camp.

Arthur stumbled into view, his usually composed demeanor replaced by a boisterous energy, his laughter ringing out into the night. You watched as he stumbled towards you, his movements unsteady and his words slurred with intoxication.

"Hey there, sweetheart!" He exclaimed, his voice louder than usual, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he approached you, his arms outstretched in an exaggerated gesture of affection.

"Arthur.." You greeted him with a chuckle, reaching out to steady him as he stumbled forward. "You're drunk."

He grinned at you, his usual charm amplified by the alcohol coursing through his veins. "Just a bit," He admitted with a laugh, his words slurring together slightly. "But I missed you, darlin'."

As Arthur held you in his drunken embrace, he leaned in close, his warm breath tickling your ear and he whispered, "Come with me, I want to show you something."

Curiosity piqued, you allowed him to lead you away from the camp, the darkness of the trees enveloping you like a cloak. With each step, his intoxicating scent of whiskey and cheap cologne hung in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest.

Finally, he stopped, the trees providing enough secrecy around you. Before you could protest or question his intentions, Arthur pressed you against a sturdy tree trunk, his lips crashing against yours in a passionate kiss.

His embrace was fervent and urgent, fueled by the fire of his drunken desire. His hands roamed eagerly over your body, his touch electric against your skin as he pulled you closer, his breath hot against your lips.

///

And that was how you found yourself, dangerously close to getting caught by the rest of the gang, pressed firmly against the rough bark of a tree, stripped naked to his mercy.

The stretch was breathtaking, every centimeter of his length sending electrifying waves of pleasure through you as he pounded away relentlessly. With each rapid thrust, Arthur grunted huskily, his teeth clenched together in sheer determination. His eyes remained fixated on your bouncing form, his gaze intense and unwavering.

"Arthur-" You gasped, your breath coming in ragged bursts, heat flooding your body.

In that moment, every sensation overwhelmed you, yet you yearned for more. There was nothing in this world, in that moment, more important than Arthur Morgan, thrusting into you with an intensity that felt like a primal need with your leg wrapped around his defined torso and his large palms roaming the curves of your body.

''Beautiful-'' He whispered between pants, his voice a husky echo against your skin as he leaned in, his lips tantalizingly close to your quivering flesh.

''You are mine.'' With a possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine, he enveloped one hardened nipple in his mouth, drawing it between his lips with a hunger that left you trembling. His tongue danced with an almost predatory insistence, claiming you entirely in a way that left you powerless to resist.

With each of his forceful thrusts, you reciprocated with equal intensity, your nails digging into his forearms with a ferocity that threatened to break skin, and your teeth grazing against his lips as you captured his mouth in a hungry kiss when he turned his face towards you.

''Please- Arthur, please!'' You knew you were babbling, but the overwhelming sensation coursing through your veins left you unable to form coherent words.

''Quiet, sweetheart. You don’t want anyone to catch us, do you?'' Arthur's voice was low, sending shivers down your spine as you struggled to maintain composure amidst the overwhelming waves of lust. His words ignited a fire within you, the intensity of his gaze leaving you feeling dizzy with desire.

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure, your breath coming in short gasps as you tried to focus on just breathing. With each movement of his hips, Arthur's rhythm intensified, the sensation bordering on maddening as he drove himself deeper into you.

''Can you be quiet for me?'' He whispered, his hand moving from your mouth to rest gently on your lower back. You nodded in response, your teeth sinking into your lip as you fought to stifle the moans threatening to escape your lips.

Your body started to shake uncontrollably, tremors coursing through every fiber of your being. With each passing moment, the sensation intensified, rendering your legs numb and leaving every muscle sore and cramped. Even the slightest movement sent waves of soreness rippling through you, threatening to overwhelm your senses.

Despite the haze of alcohol, he remained attentive to your every move, his hands a steady anchor that kept you upright. With a firm grip, he ensured you didn't falter or lose balance, his eyes never wavering from your features as he sought to understand your every emotion.

Hot tears welled in your eyes, a mixture of pleasure and intense emotion that threatened to spill over with each hard motion of his body. Arthur was so deep, so incredibly deep inside of you that it felt as though he was reaching places untouched, bringing pleasure straight to your soul.

Your muscles twitched and spasmed in time with his relentless thrusts, the rhythm of your bodies syncing perfectly as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Each moan that escaped your lips was met with the wet fabric of his shirt, the sound muffled but unmistakable in the heat of the moment.

"Good girl," Arthur murmured, his voice laced with a hint of amusement, a rare smirk gracing his lips, a sight reserved only for moments like these, fueled by the intoxicating effects of alcohol. ''Good fucking girl.'

The pressure building inside of you reached its breaking point, shattering your senses. In that moment, you clung to Arthur desperately, pulling at his hair and digging your nails into his skin as if he were your lifeline.

Open-mouthed cries of pleasure escaped your throat, the intensity of your orgasm too powerful to be contained. Arthur cursed under his breath, his focus solely on maintaining his movements long enough to ride out the wave of your climax.

He could feel you gushing wetness, squirting on his cock and leaking down both of your thighs. He wasn’t strong enough to resist the pleasure that came with the realization that he’d made you spasm so hard your body couldn’t control itself. He followed, pumping his cum deep inside of you while your folds squeezed the life out of him.

Time seemed to stand still as you clung to each other, reluctant to let go of the moment. When Arthur finally pulled away slightly, you whimpered, clinging to him tighter, craving the comfort and reassurance that only he could provide.

''I know, sweetheart. I know." Arthur's voice was soft and comforting as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. He could sense the weight of your emotions, knowing that you must be feeling overwhelmed in that moment.

"You did so good.'' He murmured, his hand gently rubbing your back in soothing circles.

𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯:

As you slipped out of your dress, the fabric cascading around your ankles, you felt the weight of the day lifting from your shoulders. The dim light of the lantern cast shadows across the canvas walls of your tent, creating a cozy sanctuary amidst the chaos of the gang outside, singing songs around the fire.

With each button undone, you reveled in the sensation of freedom, relishing the cool air against your skin as you prepared to settle for bed. The soft rustle of fabric echoed in the silence as you reached for your nightgown, a familiar routine that brought a sense of comfort to the end of another long day.

But just as you were about to slip into the warmth of your nightclothes, the tent flap suddenly stirred, and there he was, John. His usually rugged features were contorted with jealousy, his eyes clouded with the haze of alcohol as he stumbled into the tent.

"John?" You exclaimed, surprise and frustration warring within you as you struggled to comprehend his state. "What are you doing here?"

He ignored your question, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of desire and accusation. "You've been spending too much time with Javier!" He slurred, his words heavy with bitterness as he collapsed onto the ground beside you, his drunkenness palpable.

You sighed, feeling a pang of sympathy for him even as irritation prickled at the edges of your patience. "John, I told you. Javier is teaching me how to play guitar. There's nothing between us."

But he wasn't listening, lost in his own insecurities and doubts. With a pout that bordered on childish, he reached out to you, his fingers brushing against your skin in a clumsy attempt at affection.

"I wanna teach you something, too.." He murmured, his voice low and husky, his lips trailing along the curve of your neck as he spoke.

You shivered at the sensation, the heat of his touch sending a thrill racing down your spine. Despite the lingering frustration of his outburst of jealousy, you found yourself unable to resist the magnetic pull of his gaze, drawn to him with an intensity that left you breathless.

"What do you want to teach me?" You whispered, your voice barely more than a soft sigh as you surrendered to the hunger that burned within you.

///

You couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards Javier. His presence close to you eventually led you sinking down on your knees as your jealous lover stood before you. It was as if the flames of his possessiveness ignited a primal need within him, driving him to assert his dominance and claim you as his own.

Letting out a satisfied sigh, you drank in the taste of his precum, reveling in the salty sensation as it danced across your taste buds before John rested his large, calloused hands upon your hair, gently guiding your movements with a firm touch.

His eyes were half-lidded, heavy with want, as you worked your magic, eliciting a drawn-out, staticky moan from deep within his chest.

You flattened your tongue more efficiently, eager to please him, to elicit even the slightest tremor of pleasure from his lips.

For a fleeting moment, a sensation of blazing heat washed over the back of your throat as you released him, lowering your head to place a tender kiss at the base of John's throbbing cock.

As your tongue darted out to caress the prominent vein, tracing its path with delicate precision, he struggled to contain the building pressure threatening to erupt within him.

A loud groan escaped John's lips as he lifted his hips slightly, urging you to take him deeper into your mouth. The unexpected motion caught you off guard and you fought against the instinct to gag, your body instinctively adjusting to accommodate him even as tears welled up in your eyes and began to trickle down your flushed cheeks.

''That's my girl-'' He murmured, his voice hoarsed as he tightened his grip on your hair and with a quick thrust, followed by a sharp gasp, he was sheathed fully in your throat.

You desperately tried not to gag as he continued to exert himself, pulling out of your mouth just to slam his length back in you again. He was using you, like a toy to release his pent-up sexual tension and unreasonable jealousy, and you could not have been more aroused.

"These lips belong to me, understand?" He grunted, punctuating his declaration with another forceful thrust into your throat.

The once defiant man now emitted sounds you had never heard before, a mix of a squeal and a moan, interspersed with gasps for air. You reached out to cup his balls through the fabric of his pants, feeling his member twitch under your tongue.

John drooled, his mouth slightly agape, his eyes tightly shut, his breath heavy, like music to your ears.

But what struck you most was the absence of his usual smirk, instead, a slight frown adorned his face as he gasped with each thrust into the recesses of your throat. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was close to release.

Profanities and shameless moans filled the quiet of the night, ensuring that the rest of the gang members close by would hear. John pulled your hair rather harshly, evidently losing control as he maneuvered your head just the way he desired.

The vibrations of your unfiltered sounds spread throughout his sensitive length, further enhancing the tingling pleasure he was feeling.

Without pause, he continued to fuck your throat with each jerk of your head, thrusting his cock down your throat just as he brought your head down to swallow him whole. Your lewd gags were the most beautiful sounds, and even more so, the thick pools of your saliva that connected your mouth to his length, the most beautiful sight.

The ache between your legs pulsed with each passing moment, the next breath that left your lungs rolling out in a trembling whine. Your skin felt as if it wanted to fly off your body into the next star system, consumed by the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

Without warning, he pushed even deeper, and you understood immediately why. His orgasm ripped through him, eliciting another prolonged groan of satisfaction as his essence coated the back of your throat.

As he finally relented, leaving a strand of saliva and semen bridging your lips, he held his still pulsating member against your face, releasing one final burst that streaked across your forehead and hair.

You gazed at John in absolute awe, your senses still reeling from him soring both your lips and throat as he gradually descended from his euphoric state.

His eyes met yours, a smoldering intensity that made your breath catch in your throat and as he looked down at you, still kneeling before him, he reached out to caress your cheek, his touch gentle. His fingers, coated with remnants of his pleasure, traced delicate, wet patterns along your skin.

You watched, transfixed, as he brought his slickened finger to your lips, wordlessly offering it to you. Without hesitation, you parted your lips, tasting the tang of his salty essence as you obediently licked his finger clean.

Then, with a teasing spark in his eyes, he spoke arrogantly, his words dripping with playful suggestion. "Now go say hi to Javier for me. He'll get the message."

''Fuck you, Marston.'' As you rose to your feet, defiance burned in your eyes, though a hint of shyness tinged your voice.

''Your wish is my command, madam.'' Before you could fully process his words or reach out to him, he moved with unexpected swiftness, seizing your face in his hands and pulling you into a passionate kiss.

𝘑𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘳:

You laid on the plush bed, draped in your silky nightgown, the warmth of the crackling fire beside you seeping into your skin.

As you basked in the warmth, Javier's lips began to trail soft, tender kisses along the expanse of your thighs. Each touch sent ripples of pleasure coursing through your body.

The lingering scent of whiskey and cigarettes clung to him, a testament to the indulgence he had partaken in at the hotel bar downstairs earlier that evening.

Despite his intoxication, Javier worshipped your body with a reverence that left you breathless. With every caress, every kiss, he took his time, exploring every inch of your skin as if it were a sacred temple to be cherished. His adoration was palpable, his actions speaking volumes of his devotion to you.

"Déjame probarte, mi amor. Por favor-" With each tender kiss, his drunken need for you intensified, his movements becoming more urgent.

(t: let me taste you, my love, please-)

You chuckled softly as you looked into his eyes, noticing the signs of intoxication lingering in his gaze.

"You're drunk, Javi.." You remarked with a playful smile, gently teasing him as you tried to reason with him. "Maybe we should just go to sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

But he simply shook his head, his determination evident even in his inebriated state. "I'm not drunk," he protested with a lopsided grin, his words slurring slightly as he leaned closer to you. "Solo estoy disfrutando el momento contigo."

(t: I just want to enjoy this moment with you.'')

Despite not understanding a single word, the melodic rhythm of his speech sent shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but admire the way his lips formed each syllable, the passion and intensity in every word.

Lost in the moment, you found yourself running your fingers through his hair, savoring the softness beneath your touch.

''Quiero comerte entera, cariño-''

(t: I want to eat you whole, darling-)

Eventually, unable to contain your curiosity any longer, you gently interrupted him, your voice barely above a whisper. "Javi, can you translate that for me?"

Instead of obliging, he simply chuckled, his eyes glistening with mischief as he leaned in closer to your body.

"Let me show you, instead." He murmured, his voice husky as he spoke.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, he reached for the hem of your nightgown, lifting it slowly until it pooled around your stomach.

''Maybe we shouldn't..'' Your breath caught in your throat as you whispered, the words escaping your lips barely audible.

He just snickered, his laughter a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine, and whatever protest or remark you were going to make died down as the tip of his tongue nudged at your clit.

Your breath hitched in anticipation as you leaned back against the soft pillows, your heart pounding rapidly to the sudden touch. With trembling hands, you eagerly shuffled your legs further apart, offering him better access to your throbbing core.

You felt Javier's face burying itself between your thighs, the rough texture of his skin sending electric pulses of pleasure through your body.

The flat of his tongue started to give little kitten licks up and down your folds, each stroke sending waves of sensation coursing through you, always ending on a tantalizing drag against your sensitive pearl.

"Javi-" A little whimper escaped you, hushed and whining, as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure washing over you.

His amber eyes bore into yours as you swore you could feel him smirk against you, his silent amusement adding to the intoxicating mix of sensations.

''Oh god-'' Another chaste kiss to your clit elicited a gasping breath from you, your idle hand tightening its grip in his messy black hair, fingers tangling in the locks as you encouraged him to continue.

You noticed a subtle change in Javier’s movements, a newfound urgency and dedication as he worshipped your body with his mouth.

Your juices began to coat his chin as he held onto your squirming hips, his eagerness showing in the way he practically pulled you down onto his face. With each suck and lick to your clit, he drove you closer to the edge of ecstasy, his ministrations becoming more fervent and desperate.

More keens and moans spilled from your lips as a graze of teeth sent bolts of pleasure through you, the sensation causing you to grind down onto his mouth in a fervour of need.

''Preciosa- fuck-'' There was a humming sound as Javier groaned beneath you, his own arousal taking over as he pleasured you.

A fog of a different kind of intoxication thickened in your mind, clouding your thoughts as you lost yourself in the throes of his lips.

With a certain tilt of your head, you caught sight of Javier jerking off his cock while he continued to devour you, his eyes half-lidded with desire as his tight fist worked up and down his length. The sight of him, slick with pre-cum fluids and swollen with the need to orgasm, only added to your own desperation for release.

The more ferociously he licked your pussy, the harder he stroked himself, his cock leaking slick from that swollen, reddened tip.

Slowly, Javier's middle finger pressed against you, the anticipation causing your breath to hitch in your throat. With a gentle but firm pressure, it slipped inside, encountering little resistance as it delved deeper. Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp of pleasure, your body instinctively arching towards him as he filled you.

As his finger bottomed out inside you, a low moan escaped your lips, the sound muffled by the New pressure. You could feel the heat building between your legs, your arousal pooling at the point where his finger met your core.

Javier could sense the subtle changes in your body, the way your cunt fluttered and pulsed around his finger. He reveled in the feeling of you, the way you squeezed him tight, every ridge inside your plush walls a testament to your desire. With each gentle thrust of his finger, he explored the depths of your pleasure, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

He seemed to understand exactly how your body worked, his touch deliberate and calculated as he curled his finger just barely, sending you closer to your climax with each motion.

With a deft flick of his digit, he found your sweetest spot, and he didn't hesitate to exploit it. The sensation was electric, a symphony of pleasure that left you gasping for air. Again and again, he brushed against that sensitive area, each stroke consuming you whole.

You were on the brink of coming undone, your body thrumming with anticipation as Javier's touch sent ripples of pleasure cascading through you. But just as you felt yourself on the cusp, he abruptly pulled away, leaving you stunned and breathless.

Shock was displayed all over your features as Javier chuckled softly, his amusement evident all over his face.

And then, with a gentle but deliberate movement, Javier closed the distance between you, his eyes locked with yours as his hands roamed over your body.

''You're going to finish with me inside you, amor.''

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘴:

As you walked towards the tranquil lake, away from the loud celebration of the gang's successful mission, the ethereal glow of the bright moon above casted a shimmering path across the water. The night air was crisp and cool against your skin, offering a welcome respite from the warmth of the fire.

Finding a secluded spot by the water's edge, you sat down and dipped your fingers into the cool, refreshing liquid, splashing it onto your face and shoulders in an attempt to wash away the remnants of the long day but before you could repeat the gesture, a pair of strong, familiar hands settled on your hips, sending a shiver down your spine.

Giggling, you turned to find Charles standing behind you, his breath heavy with the scent of whiskey. Despite his usual resilience to alcohol, it was clear that tonight's celebration had gotten the better of him. He had accepted Sean's challenge to see who could drink the most, and it seemed he had emerged on the losing end.

''Mhm, Charles-'' A whimper escaped your lips as his lips trailed along your skin with a newfound hunger, his breath hot against your neck.

Even in his inebriated state, Charles remained relatively quiet, his usual reticence undisturbed by the alcohol coursing through his veins.

However, there was a noticeable shift in his demeanor as his breath grew louder and heavier against your skin. With each kiss, his tongue teased and tantalized, promising the emergence of vivid purple marks on your skin in the morning.

A sudden gasp escaped your lips as he stumbled backwards, pulling you along with him. With a surprising agility, he managed to find purchase on a tree log, his body sinking onto it as he settled into a seated position with you straddling his thighs.

''Mm, need you, angel.'' Charles cooed softly, his touch tender as he rested his palm under your jaw. With a deft movement, he brought your face closer to his, his intent clear as he sought to capture the perfect view of your dazed eyes.

''Anything for my man.'' You whispered softly, your voice barely above a breath as you cradled his face in your hands

Wordlessly, you moved with anticipation, your hands trembling slightly as you slid down the waistband of his pants. As you did, you felt the warmth radiating from his clothed cock, the heat passing along your cheeks in a tantalizing wave.

With each inch of fabric you peeled away, the excitement grew even more as the cotton material finally wrapped around his muscular thighs.

A low hiss escaped Charles' lips as the brief contact of cold air brushed against his freed cock, causing it to spring to life with eager anticipation. The sound of it slapping heavily against his bruised stomach filled the air, echoing in the stillness of the night as the voices of your fellow gang members seemed to fade in the distance.

He was huge, his length extending well beyond his navel and the thickness of it easily comparable to your wrist.

With delicate precision, you used your fingertips to guide the hard length of him to your entrance, feeling the anticipation building with each passing moment.

As you started to sink down, the bulbous head of his cock dipped into the flesh of your labia, the pressure forcing the meaty lips to spread for him.

''Oh, my-'' A faltering breath escaped your lips as you sucked it in, a desperate attempt to steady yourself against the overwhelming sensation.

The lack of good preparation made the penetration a slow and deliberate process, each inch of him breaching your body with torturous slowness. Despite it all, the searing burn that accompanied his entry, only made you bask in the intensity of the sensation, your senses consumed by the pleasure of it all.

He breached your body one agonizing fraction at a time, the pressure just giving the right amount of painful as he pushed deeper inside you.

Finally, the glans of his cock popped through the first barrier, a primal moan escaping your lips as you stilled above him. With a newfound determination, you bore down on him again, the unbidden sound of your whimpers like music to his ears.

''You feel so-, so good-''Charles responded with a deep, rumbling noise, the barely coherent words reverberating through the air only to fuel your need to please him even more.

You choked on a disgruntled squawk as he lifted his hips, forcing himself another inch or so inside you. The sudden movement caught you off guard, causing you to sway above him, the tension in your loins doubling and threatening to overwhelm you.

''Mhm-'' Groaning deep in the back of your throat, you haltingly pivoted your hips, up, down, up and down.

Each movement a deliberate effort to loosen your passage and coat him in more arousal. With each motion, you felt the tension in your body ease, the sensation of him sliding against your inner walls igniting a fire within you.

As you started to lower yourself again, just a brief moment later, the penetration came easier, Charles' cock slipping effortlessly against your slickened walls until you were fully seated on his lap. With a heady sigh of pleasure, you tossed your head back, the sensation overwhelming your senses.

Taking advantage of your exposed vulnerability, Charles seized the opportunity to squeeze your breast in a tight grip, his touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you.

''Look at you-'' He breathed, his voice heavy with adoration. ''So lovely when you’re enjoying yourself like this.''

Your whole body heaved and lurched at his praise, every single muscle in your shuddering frame locking up as you clamped down on him so hard it physically hurt.

A primal scream tore from your throat, echoing into the night sky as pure, unadulterated bliss rushed in to swarm your senses, completely overriding the faint discomfort of being stretched to the absolute limit.

In response to your climax, Charles groaned, his own pleasure evident as he let you ride out the waves of your ecstasy on his excitedly jumping cock. His hands grasped at your sides, fingers digging into the love handles he found there, holding onto you as if you were a lifeline in the midst of a storm.

Like a wild beast, you clawed at his flesh, your nails leaving red marks in their wake as you desperately sought release. His arms, shoulders, chest, anything you could reach became a canvas for your frenzied need as you bucked and spasmed throughout the throes of your ecstasy.

It was the sporadic squeezing of your cunt that finally milked the orgasm right out of him. You felt him stiffen beneath you, a grunt escaping his tightly clenched teeth as he violently twitched inside your body.

The abrupt pressure on your sweet spot had you seeing stars, your breath hitching as you swayed unsteadily on top of him, both of you lost in the overwhelming intensity of the moment.

It took you a prolonged moment to start coming down from the blinding rush of endorphins, your senses still swimming in the aftermath of ecstasy. Each breath came short and quick, the air feeling heavy against your chest as you struggled to regain your composure.

Your skin was sticky with sweat and it effectively glued you to him, making even the simple act of lifting your head a taxing effort.

As you laid there, basking in the warmth of his embrace, you became aware of Charles gently petting your head, his touch a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves.

His fingers traced delicate patterns through your hair, smoothing down the unruly strands with a tenderness that brought a smile to your lips.

"Should I go thank Sean for this?" You murmured tiredly, the words slipping from your lips in a hazy whisper.

In response, Charles mumbled softly, his voice laced with warmth and affection, "Mhm, funny if you think that I'm gonna let you go anytime soon." The words were spoken with a hint of playfulness, the alcohol clearly waking him up instead of the opposite.

#need to take a few breaks in between John's part cause FUCCCKKKK #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x reader #john marston #john marston smut #john marston x reader #javier escuella #javier escuella smut #javier escuella x reader #charles smith #charles smith smut #charles smith x reader #van der linde gang

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