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gimmeurtmi · 1 year

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no nut november — han (loser #1)

pairing: han jisung x fem!reader

tags: no nut november mini series, established relationship, ot8 inclusive, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, open conversations about sex as an impulse/need, insecure reader for a bit, fingering, oral ( f + m receiving), slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, no nut november as a bet, needy!jisung,

inspo: kaili’s brain <33

notes: @sluttywonwoo and i are finally collabing after like five years :’). i’m so so hyped for this one!!! make sure to tell us what you think and place your bets on the winner🥰 😉

banner by @sluttywonwoo

{ wc: 5246 }

jisung and his friends were close. very close. they saw each other practically every day and would share everything with each other. it was something he cherished deeply, and he loved just how jisung he could be around them.

they never made him feel like he was too much—unlike most of the people he grew up with, and they even indulged him when he’d start talking about his niche interests or when he shared a new song he wrote. they were always supportive.

maybe to a fault.

“so, even though we can’t grow facial hair,” chan concluded, “i think it would be nice if we could at least make a donation to the charity.”

“what charity?” seungmin asked.

“weren’t you listening?” changbin yelled.

“no,” the younger said easily.

“hyung was explaining to us about movember,” felix recaps. seungmin just shrugs.

“i could grow facial hair if i tried,” he challenges.

“that’s not the point!” chan shakes his head. “will you guys make a donation with me or not?”

they all mumbled their affirmations.

“why is it in november?” jeongin quips.

chan just shrugs. “every months has things attached to it, i suppose.”

“november has another thing,” minho says, plainly.

“there’s national cappuccino day,” seungmin agrees with a nod.

“and fried chicken day!” changbin adds.

“yeah, and there’s a challenge to write a whole novel in the month of november,” hyunjin says softly.

“yeah,” jisung says, tone serious as he leans forward, “you’re forgetting the most important one. no nut november.”

minho smirks at him as the pair of friends exchange a look that says ‘you read my mind’.

“yeah, right,” chan chuckles, “the other ones sound like real things though.”

“it’s a real thing!” jisung defends.

“no, it’s not,” chan just shakes his head.

“it is!”

“do you know anyone who actually does it rather than posting stupid memes about it?”

“me,” jisung shrugs confidently.

the room fills with a chorus of laughter so loud, jisung sits there with a shocked face at the reaction he just got.

well, fine, he doesn’t do it. he’s never done it. he’s never even thought about it. but chan doesn’t need to know that, does he?

“why?” jisung said once the laughter calmed down, a few minutes after he last spoke.

“you’re trying to say you’re not going to have sex or do anything for a whole month?” seungmin tried to clarify.

“yeah, why?”

“it’s just…” he holds back his laughter, “…i don’t think you’re capable of that.”

“hey!” jisung exclaims. “i’m not an animal, i can go a month without sex.”

“oh, we all know that,” hyunjin laughs, “we’ve seen you go through a year long dry spell before you found y/n. but you got off every fucking day.”

“uh—i don’t—why do you know that?” jisung could feel himself blushing.

“we share a wall.”

the boys laugh harder. jisung can’t stop himself from cringing.

“hyunjin, please never say that again,” he tries to brush off.

“maybe you can not have sex for a whole month,” minho chuckles, “but you can’t go that long with nothing.”

“it’s not that hard!” jisung insists, unable to accept the fact his friends think so little of him and his self control.

“it is!” chan adds, “we’re used to doing stuff like that all the time, we can’t just stop.”

“yeah,” changbin agrees, leaning forward to give jisung the kind of look he gives him when he’s trying to encourage him. “none of us could do that.”

“hey!” felix quips up, just as seungmin puts his hand up.

“speak for yourself!” the younger adds.

“yeah!” jeongin nods firmly.

“you guys think you could go a whole month?” chan raises an eyebrow at his friends.

“i could, too,” hyunjin shrugs plainly.

“first of all, this isn’t fair,” minho leans closer, as if evaluating the situation. “innie is single. he’s used to not getting any,”

“—hey!—“

“—and most of you have girlfriends so you can’t just decide to do this without telling them.”

“most of us?” changbin quotes back at minho, “like you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“she’s just as competitive as i am, so she’ll do it just to show you guys we’re the best.”

“the best at not getting any?” jisung quips with a raise of his brow. the boys snicker.

“yah!” minho exclaims. “don’t start with me!”

“maybe minho is so confident because she never lets him get it anyway,” seungmin laughs.

“you think i can’t get some?” minho squares up, acting as if he’s about to take out his phone and prove his friends wrong.

“uh,” chan tries, hands up, “i think we’re getting off track here?”

“let’s put money on it,” jisung offers. he’s joking, well, kinda.

now that the boys have all doubted him, while simultaneously agreeing they’d be better than him at something, he has to prove them wrong. even if it is only trivial and honestly pretty stupid. jisung is never not the best.

“how much?” felix rubs his hands together.

“enough for the winner to get a nice weekend away with his partner,” hyunjin suggests, “minho’s got a point. they’ll have to go through it too so might as well treat them.”

“and what does innie get?” seungmin can’t help but ask.

“i’m single, too,” changbin croaks.

“you’re not,” chan rolls his eyes. “being too scared to establish the relationship doesn’t make you single.”

changbin smiles sheepishly at the raised brows around him, trying to ignore the pointed looks his friends are giving him.

“yeah, when are you going to just ask her to be your girlfriend? we’ve all met her already and we love her,” felix encourages with a soft smile.

“why is this about me?” he yells back. “tell jeongin to get his shit together and ask his crush out!”

“that can be his prize. a getaway that’s the perfect excuse to ask her out,” chan offers with a smile.

“so, agreed? no sex for a month and winner gets a weekend away with their lover, undefined partner, or unrequited crush, as a prize,” minho concludes.

“it’s not just sex,” felix points out, “no, uh, fireworks at all.”

“it’s called orgasms, yongbok,” seungmin says bluntly.

“fine,” he rolls his eyes, his cheeks dusted pink, “no orgasms.”

“we should exclude jisung from this,” hyunjin smirks, “since he was gonna do it anyway.”

“poor y/n,” seungmin tsks, “at least our girlfriends will get something nice for this torture.”

“hey hey hey!” jisung lets out quickly, barely breathing as he goes on, “if anything as your inspiration and true role model i should be part of this bet, too. and i’ll have you know i take amazing care of my girlfriend whether i sleep with her or not and no, sleeping with me is not it’s own kind of torture,” he says quickly, before seungmin and minho can say what’s so clearly on their minds.

they both let out a disappointed grunt at his words—confirming jisung knows them far too well.

“but we have to tell them we’re doing this,” chan confirms, “i don’t keep stuff from her and like minho said, it’s just cruel not to tell them.”

they all agree.

jeongin curls in on himself ever so slightly, before he says, “maybe just hyungs should do this, then. i don’t have a girlfriend so it’s an unfair advantage.”

“as the youngest your hormones are most active, so if anything it’ll be harder for you,” hyunjin says, comforting his friend.

what a weird way to comfort someone, jisung thinks. and then he says it out loud.

“it was actually very comforting, thank you,” jeongin glared at jisung, “but it’s fine. i don’t have to be part of the bet. i’d have no one to take to the getaway either.”

“don’t worry,” minho says quickly, “you’re playing. we’re not letting you sit this out just because you haven’t had the chance to make a move on that girl.”

“but—“

“—the more of us play, the harder it is. more people you need to outlive.”

“outlive?” jisung repeats with a gulp. minho simply nods at him, his face expressionless.

“right, shake on it!” chan announces, and all eight of the boys put their hands in the middle of the circle, each grabbing at one or two people’s fingers.

november 2nd

why did jisung ever agree to this? why did he even bring it up?

this was stupid. this was so so stupid. you haven’t had the chance to come over since the month started, and well, jisung got too distracted and engulfed by your presence that he didn’t have a chance to bring the bet up just yet. he didn’t know how to say it, either.

“i bet a romantic getaway with my friends on us not having sex for a month,” felt like a stupid thing to say. well, it was stupid. stupid!

it felt borderline ridiculous when you snuggled up closer to him on the couch, back flush to his chest as you played the next movie on your scary marathon list. halloween was over, but both you and jisung agreed there were far too many good ones to just stop once the holiday was over, so jisung was happy to let you keep working through the list the pair of you curated on your letterbox account.

“you’re so warm,” you said happily, moving in closer to his embrace. jisung planted a small kiss on the back of your neck, squeezing you tighter as you sighed.

“i love being like this with you,” you mumbled, moving your head to the side enough to plant a soft kiss on his equally soft cheeks.

“squeezed to your death?” jisung teased, squeezing at your stomach and your hips, where his hands were casually wrapped around you.

you let out a dramatic huff before you giggled at him, curling a hand underneath his bicep to push his arms away from you. he only let his grip loosen, but didn’t dare move away too much. you kept your fingers around his bicep, slowly pressing into the muscle.

“ji, all the time you spend away from me at the gym really paid off,” you mumbled, leaning down to kiss at his bicep softly.

jisung smiled timidly.

“uh, thanks,” he cleared his throat.

“i feel so safe in your strong arms,” you added.

“why do scary movies always make you horny?” jisung asked.

“what?” you chuckled, “i’m not horny?”

“you are feeling me up,” he pointed out, his chin gesturing at your fingers and the way they wrapped around his muscles.

“i can’t admire the artwork?” you huffed.

“there’s admiring, and there’s drooling,” he said, eyebrows raised.

“since when are you so cocky,” you sighed.

“does that turn you on, too?” jisung smirked. he was moving into dangerous territory, but he couldn’t help it when it was you. there was something so enticing about flirting with you, especially when you were sat so snuggly in between his legs.

“for the record, everything you do is a turn on.”

jisung swallowed. it didn’t go unnoticed to him that your thighs spread ever so slightly since this exchange started, or that you were much closer to his chest than you were a few moments ago. he had to keep it clean. “focus on your film, honey.”

you two still exchanged kisses, you still fed jisung snacks in between jump scares, you still laughed at all the kills together. so, it was just like any other movie night.

except it wasn’t—for the very reason you were pointing out now.

“jisung,” you began, tilting your head to the side slightly as he sat back down on the bed. he cleaned his room from the snacks and came back quickly, but it was enough time to for you to realise what happened.

“jisung? who the fuck is jisung?” he knitted his eyebrows together. “what’s wrong?”

“are you upset with me?”

his face reminded you of a surprised cartoon character, his mouth a perfect circle as his eyebrows met his hair.

“what? no, no. why? why?”

“it’s just,” you blushed, causing jisung to grab both your hands and trail his thumbs against your wrist soothingly. “we’ve never ever had a movie night without your hands down my pants.”

jisung laughed.

“stop,” you groaned. “i’m being serious.”

“my baby! my sweet sweet baby,” he teased, getting closer and closer to your face with his signature shit eating grin.

“it’s like an instinct you have, jisung. we watch a movie and you touch me. it was really weird that you didn’t.”

“stop calling me jisung,” he scoffed, “i’m not your friend.”

“you are now, since friends usually have normal, non-pussy-touching movie nights together all the time!”

“so you didn’t get touched for one movie and i’ve been bumped back down to friend status?” jisung gasped.

“i don’t know, have i?” you counter.

jisung notices the way you don’t quite let him hold your hands, the way that gorgeous glint in your eyes isn’t there. he isn’t too sure you’re just joking about this.

“hey,” he says softly, “are you being serious?”

you nod softly. “did i do something wrong?”

“why would you think that?” jisung exclaimed, pulling you closer to him. “where is this coming from?”

“is it because i didn’t put perfume on today? i know i’ve been getting more comfortable around you, i’m sorry i haven’t put a lot of effort in today i just thought we were gonna have a chill night so i didn’t wear my best clothes and—“

“—hey! hey! stop that now,” jisung shakes his head quickly. “i love that you’re comfortable around me.”

“it’s just, i don’t know, jisung. you’re always—“

“—can you not call me that—“

“—you’re always touching me in some sort of way and then i don’t see you for a week and you’re just not anymore?”

“why are you insecure? you know i love you,” jisung emphasised with all his might, his figure slumping until he met your gaze. you wouldn’t look in his eyes.

“it’s okay if you just weren’t in the mood,” you say quickly, realising your insecurities were indeed leading your train of thought. you owed it to jisung to be understanding—even if his behaviour was painfully uncharacteristic. “i just never see you not in the mood.”

“you’re making me out to be some sort of pervert,” jisung jokes, trying to get you to laugh. or at least let him hold your hand.

“but you’re my pervert,” you pout at him, causing his insides to crunch at the sight.

you always made him weak—and he was holding everything inside him not to tease you during the movie like he always did. but it was only his first try, he couldn’t lose already. and if he touched you, jisung knew he wouldn’t wanna stop until you were both spent and satisfied. he thought so hard about that, he didn’t stop to consider how you might see it. or the fact he never fucking told you.

“i made a bet with the boys,” jisung said quickly.

“huh?”

“we’re doing no nut november so i tried not to touch you because i don’t wanna lose on the second day,” he said in one big breath.

“that was too fast, rapper boy,” you pointed out, unable to catch half the words he said.

jisung repeated himself, slowly, feeling the blush creep up his neck as he spoke clearly and carefully.

“what did you bet on?”

he felt his eyes gap again. that was your first question?

“a romantic getaway for the couple that wins.”

“and where will changbin go for his getaway, do you think?”

“what?” he gasped. “i’m taking you on a romantic getaway.”

“no, you’re not,” you laughed, amused at his incredulous face.

“what does that mean?”

“ji,” you giggled, lacing your fingers together, “i have never met anyone as insatiable as you. even if you can somehow hold off sex for a month, you really think your impatient dick will be able to stay calm for that long?”

jisung felt heat rushing all over his body, coursing through him then all the way down to his crotch.

“i’m sorry i made you feel insecure,” he tries to change the subject, ignoring just how dry his mouth felt all of a sudden, “please never doubt how much i’m obsessed with you.”

you smiled at his words, nodding in acceptance.

you lean forward, capturing his lips in a soft kiss.

jisung wanted to make it up to you, he wanted to make sure you had no doubt at all about how crazy he was about you—he wanted you to know this was just about the bet.

so he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled your body closer to him, deepening the kiss as you sighed contently.

he ran a hand down your back, slowly, cupping your ass softly as he felt you smiling against his lips.

“so obsessed with you,” he mumbles into the kiss, “so obsessed.”

“i’m obsessed with you too,” you sigh, unable to quite finish your sentence before jisung slips his tongue past your lips.

the kiss is still soft, jisung’s tongue moving slowly against yours, but his movements are more urgent as he grabs your hips and pulls you onto his lap.

“my perfect, perfect girlfriend,” he sighs, kissing down your jaw.

jisung wants you. he wants you really bad. and he can have you. why not? the rule is, as felix put it, no fireworks. jisung is not the kind of man that can only have sex if he cums. he can just focus on you. he’ll just take care of you. that’s allowed.

“can i make it up to you?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as he moves your hair away from your face.

“how?” you cock your head to the side.

“i’ll touch you now, give you what you so clearly missed out on,” he chuckled.

you nodded instantly, biting your lip.

“you sure you can?” you ask, no hint of teasing in your words. you know how competitive jisung is, and you also know he really doesn’t have much self control. you wouldn’t want him to lose just because you were feeling a little insecure lately.

“yeah,” he nods. confidently.

you lean down to kiss him again.

jisung doesn’t waste any time pulling your sweats down your legs and helping you shimmy out of them. he slowly presses you down onto your back, pushing at each knee to keep your legs open for him.

he trailed his finger up your thighs, slowly, smirking at the way your eyes fluttered at his action. he’s still jisung, so he’s still a fucking tease, and he circled your lips once and twice, bringing his finger in between your folds casually.

before you think to protest, he dips the tip of his finger inside you, his eyes gleaming at the squelching noise. it’s only the tip of his index finger, but it’s enough to make you want more—so you buck your hips up in a silent request.

jisung leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your hipbone.

“don’t get needy,” he warned, “you know we shouldn’t be going crazy.”

you nod, taking in a deep breath as you focus on the feeling your boyfriend is giving you right now. you know you shouldn’t be greedy.

jisung is spread out in front of you, his whole body on the bed—face in front of your exposed pussy.

he leans his head against your thigh, kissing at the soft skin as his eyes fixate on his fingers—slowly, shallowly, going in and out.

“faster,” you dare.

jisung obeyed instantly, the tip of his finger tapping in and out of your entrance in quick shallow motions.

“ji, fuck baby,” you start chanting, breathing fast as the pleasure starts to consume you.

“more?” jisung raises his eyebrows at you, his smile big and cheeky as a sense of pride follows his movements.

“please, please more,” you pleaded.

jisung climbed up your body as he kissed around your collarbone, planting kiss after kiss after kiss before he pulled your shirt down enough to expose your bare chest.

“no bra?” he gasps.

“i said i was more comfortable around you,” you shrugged.

“fuck, baby,” he chuckled, “be as comfortable as you want.”

he grabbed your tit, kneading the skin before he rolled your nipple in between his fingers—a loud moan escaping you. jisung leaned down, sucking the sensitive bud as you grabbed onto his soft hair.

“ji,” you moaned, “fuck, please. please.”

“what?” he asked, almost genuinely. he knew you quite well at this point and he was doing everything you taught him you liked. what was he missing?

“want you,” you sighed.

“i’m here,” he smirked up at you, kissing your lips softly before turning his attention back to your nipples—tongue moving fast against it.

“can you, uh, would it be okay if you—“ you stuttered, unsure exactly how to ask for what you wanted. usually you just told jisung to fuck you, but you didn’t want to ask that now. still, you weren’t quite sure how to word your next request.

“what is it, baby?”

“can you use your mouth?” you blushed. but jisung didn’t even stop to tease you about it—and instead buried his face in between your thighs without a second to spare.

you squealed at the coolness of his tongue, taken aback by just how fast he was going from the start.

jisung was good at a lot of things—but you didn’t think anyone could possibly be so good at giving head. he proved just how good he was at it every chance he got, and now, he was determined to prove that point one more time.

your fingers carded in his hair, pulling at the strands as he placed his tongue flat against your clit—moving it in a pulsing pattern against the sensitive bud.

you’ve never been with anyone who ate pussy like him.

you weren’t even sure what you were saying, too lost in the feeling to realise you were chanting your boyfriend’s name like a prayer, mixed in with a few swear words and some questionable noises.

but it was driving jisung insane.

he loved knowing he was making you feel good, he loved the compliments that tumbled out of your mouth without you even realising it, he loved how you always said how good he was when he made you cum.

he couldn’t remember the last time you were this loud for him.

as you tugged on his hair again, pulling him even closer to your cunt, jisung grunted. he was rolling his hips into the mattress.

“fuck baby,” he pulled away slightly, catching his breath for a moment, “i’m gonna lose my fucking mind soon.”

he kept rutting into the mattress as he sucked on your clit, moaning against your body and causing another set of swear words to leave your lips.

“such a filthy fucking mouth,” he let out, his eyes hooded slightly as he looked up at you, his hips still rolling against the mattress. “how does someone so pretty sound so dirty?”

“ji,” you whimpered, “ji, your mouth is so good.”

“yeah,” he sighed before getting back to his task.

after a few moments, both of you rolling your hips in search of more friction, you started to whine.

“i’m close, i’m so close,” you said softly.

jisung knew you needed more to be able to cum, and although he could’ve just used his fingers—he was desperate for more, too.

so he climbed up your body and rolled his sweats down his thighs.

“what are you doing?” you asked quickly.

“just let me feel how warm you are,” he all but sobbed, “just for a little bit.”

“are you sure?” you checked, glancing down at his dick. he was swollen, hard, and the tip glistened with precum. you weren’t sure he would stop after a little bit, especially considering he was practically humping the bed until now.

“wanna feel how warm you are baby,” he repeated, kissing your neck, “please. i’ll stop if i get too close.”

you nodded at him. it was all you wanted too, to feel the stretch of his cock inside you, but you could tell jisung wasn’t thinking clearly as soon as you noticed just how blown his pupils were.

either way—how could you care about the stupid bet he made with his friends when the prettiest boy in the world was begging to put his cock inside you?

jisung lined himself up easily, his strong hands on either side of your shoulders before he pushed himself all the way inside you.

the pair of you groaned in unison.

“so fucking tight,” he sighed, “so wet.”

“it’s from how good you are at eating me out,” you moaned, grabbing onto his shoulders as you pulled him closer.

“can i move?” he asked, his nose bumping against your chin before he kissed you sloppily.

“it’s up to you, baby,” you nodded.

jisung thrust up into you. hard.

you yelped.

“more,” you couldn’t help but ask.

jisung repeated his actions, once and then twice, and then he was rubbing your clit fast.

“oh my god,” you moaned, “don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

jisung wouldn’t dream of stopping, not when you looked so good underneath him, moaning and grunting and biting your lip in pleasure.

he was focusing as best he could on thinking about literally anything else to push his own high as far away as he could.

he could do it. he could make you cum on his cock without losing. he knew he could do it.

and soon, your moans were getting high pitched and longer and then—

“i’m cumming!” you announced breathily, and jisung shut his eyes. it was one thing feeling you clench and pulse around him while keeping his focus, but he couldn’t possibly look at your blissed out face right now. he needed to focus.

once he felt you calm down, heard that little sigh you let out as soon as you relax, he knew it was safe to open his eyes.

“ji,” you chuckled, “that was fucking amazing.”

you kiss him, hand cradling his cheeks as you pepper more kisses around his face.

“happy to be of service,” he smirked at you. pride coated his shoulders as he kissed your cheek.

he actually fucking did it.

he took a moment to appreciate your expression, the sweat on your forehead, the way you were still taking in big breaths, your messy hair.

“fuck, i’m so lucky,” he let out. you chuckled in response.

“can i—would you be okay if i did the thing?” you asked, shyly.

only recently did the pair of you discover you both loved tasting your own release on each other. jisung would eat you out almost every time he came inside you, and you loved sucking him off after he fucked you. it wasn’t like you had to do it—but since this discovery, your aftercare reached a new level of hot.

“sure,” jisung nodded, laying down on the bed beside you after he slowly pulled out.

“tell me if i need to stop,” you said before kissing his lips.

“don’t worry, honey,” he smiled, “i got this.”

you nodded before sliding down his body.

you licked his tip softly, testing the waters, and hummed at the taste. the saltiness and your own taste combined together as you took more and more of his dick into your mouth.

you licked the shiny part of his thighs where a bit got away, sucking a small bruise into the skin. and then you licked his balls, and then you took all of him inside you.

jisung was quiet the whole time, his face scrunched in concentration. he wouldn’t even look at you.

“baby, you’re okay?” you asked, rubbing his thigh soothingly as you licked his tip slowly—still tasting yourself on his warm dick.

“yeah, baby, all good,” he grunted as he shut his eyes.

you took that as a sign you could keep going, and tried your hardest not to tease him too much. you just wanted to clean him off.

“there we go, my love,” you hummed, “all done.”

jisung opened his eyes with a smile, bringing a hand into your hair.

“thanks, baby,” he smiled, visibly relaxing in front of you.

“you did so well, ji,” you smiled, “so patient and calm for me. you’re gonna win this for us.”

you gleamed up at him, a big smile on your lips, and instinctively you found yourself bringing your hand around him as you stroked him twice.

“wait, wait, wait,” he said frantically—waving his hands at you.

but before you could question that kind of reaction, or even respond, his thighs had contracted in front of you as cum shot onto his stomach.

it was too late now, so you made sure he at least enjoyed it, stroking him in a pace you knew he liked as you watched the pleasure sink into his body.

“fuck!” he let out as he came down his high. “two fucking days?”

“i don’t understand what just happened,” you chuckled, sitting up. “was it something i said?”

“i shouldn’t have looked at you,” jisung groaned, bringing his hands up to rub his face. “your stupid cute smile.”

“really?” you giggled, “you could fuck me through an orgasm but me smiling at you was the last straw?”

“you know what,” jisung chuckled, grabbing the pillow next to him and launching it at you, “i wish you would bump me down to friend status.”

“you don’t mean that, jisung,” you smirked, reaching over to his bedside table for some tissues. you helped him clean up his now ruined shirt as the pair of you laughed.

jisung leaned up to kiss you, pulling you closer by the back of your neck.

“don’t call me that,” he whined as you pulled away.

“so like, i’m not allowed to call you by your legal name, i can’t smile at you, anything else?”

jisung rolled his eyes at you with a grin, leaning up to kiss you—tasting everything you cleaned up on your lips.

“two fucking days,” he mumbled again as he pulled away.

“get over it, ji,” you chuckled.

jisung huffed at himself, running a hand through his hair before he pulled his shirt off, letting you cuddle into him as the pair of you sighed into each other’s embrace.

his phone buzzed at that—pulling you away from your momentary post sex bliss as jisung read over the text.

minho: so how is movie night going? 😌

jisung: fuck you

“don’t worry, baby,” you said as you giggled at the texts on his screen, “the boys will never find out it was only two days.”

jisung grumbled at that.

“minho is a dick. and we all know he’s gonna win it, too.”

“sure, sure,” you patted his chest, thinking did it really matter that much? “i’m sure whoever wins will use their gift wisely.”

“oh wait, shit,” he exclaimed. you looked up at him curiously. “we were all busy the week of his birthday so chan said i need to plan a party for next week. will you help me?”

“of course, jisung,” you pressed a kiss to his lips.

“stop calling me that!” he chuckled, eyes wide as he shook you around by your shoulders.

you decided kissing him would calm him down, and it did—the pair of you kissing until you were both too tired to go on.

#skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz x yn #stray kids fics #stray kids x reader #han jisung smut #han x yn #han jisung x reader #han x reader #jisung #jisung x yn #jisung smut #han smut #skz smut #nnn #nnn skz #no nut november #all.works

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nyxoz · 2 years

Note

I was thinking for a part 2 to the modern day Eddie x reader sexting could be she goes and hangs out with Jackson and Eddie starts sexting her knowing she's over there 👀

thank you so for your request!!! im so mind blown by the love for this fic. i hope you enjoy this part two.

Eddie Munson x Reader

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: Smut, Vaginal fingering, P in V sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Best Friends to Lovers, Modern AU, Sexting, Swearing, Jealousy, Semi-Public Sex, Unprotected Sex.

Part One

Eddie has been avoiding you.

Well, at least you think he has. He hasn’t contacted you since he said goodbye the night he made you come so hard on your couch you had to lay against him to catch your breath.

You haven’t texted or called him either but that’s not the point. He initiated it. Shouldn’t he be the one to call you?

It’s been three days since that night, which isn’t super long but you and Eddie haven’t gone a day without talking to each other for god knows how long. It’s weird, him not being in your life. Not texting him something stupid or sending him a meme or TikTok you saw. You miss him. But you’re mad at him.

You’re not mad about what happened. You’re mad about how he’s acting (or not acting.). You didn’t expect him to suddenly be your boyfriend or anything, but he could at least fucking text you.

It’s Monday night when you decide to head to Benny's diner alone for dinner.

As you enter the mostly empty diner you see none other than Jackson, sitting alone at a booth lining the window. His head pops up as the bell rings on the door and he’s smiling as he recognises you.

You subtly sigh and smile at him.

“Hey.” He says.

You walk over to where he’s seated, “Hey, Jackson.”

He looks around you like he’s expecting to see someone.

“You eating alone?”

You nod.

“I’d expected Munson to be following behind you like a lost little puppy.” He laughs at his joke. You don’t laugh and he notices calming down his chuckle, “I was just kidding.” He tries to save face.

There’s an awkward silence before he clears his throat.

“How about you take a seat? I’ll buy you dinner.” He asks.

You look at the empty seat across from him and then back at his smiling face. You decide, fuck it, why not? You get a free meal out of it and some okay company.

“Suuure, but I want a milkshake too.” You bargain as you slide into the booth.

He laughs a little, his teeth blindingly white and in full view. “Sure thing, darlin’.”

He keeps smiling at you as you grab at the menu his fingers are fiddling with on the table. Your eyes wander over the page, trying to choose when he starts up that awkward conversation.

“So, Friday night was, like, good.” He says.

You snort, eyes still on the menu. “Good?”

“Hot.” He corrects, “like so hot.”

You finally look up at him after deciding what you want. “I’m glad.”

He laughs, “You’re hard to read.”

Raising a brow and tapping your fingers against the table you smirk slightly. “Am I?”

Jackson leans back further against the booth and runs his hands through his hair. “Yeah, you really are.”

“Alrighty! What can I get you two tonight?” A waitress interrupts your conversation.

You look up at her and see her name tag reads Joan. You and Jackson give your orders to Joan and she grabs your menu before walking back to the counter.

As Jackson asks how your weekend is going, headlights shine into the window as a car parks in front of the diner. You automatically turn to look at the light and as the headlights turn off you see a very familiar green van. Eddie. Of course, he’s here.

You turn back to Jackson and pretend you’re listening to some fishing story he’s telling as you hear the bells of the front door jingle as Eddie enters. You don’t look up at the sound and keep staring head-on at Jackson.

He says something that makes himself laugh and you don’t know quite what it was but you decide to laugh loud and reach a hand forward to touch his arm that’s resting on the tabletop. Eddie walks past just as you do and you can’t help but flick your eyes up at him. He looks at you and then down to where you’re touching Jackson. He doesn’t stop walking until he’s sitting in the booth right behind Jackson, staring directly at you.

Jackson doesn’t seem to notice that Eddie is here, too caught up in your touch and laugh.

“Yeah, so funny right!” He laughs with you.

“Totally.” You smile, staring just past his shoulder into the brown eyes that are staring directly into yours.

Eddie is smirking very subtly at you before he drops his eyes down to the menu.

The next twenty minutes seem to go by uneventfully. You flirt shamelessly with Jackson, but manage to avoid looking at Eddie the entire time. Your food comes out and after you both finish, you decide to split the promised milkshake.

“I gotta say, I’m more of a strawberry milkshake man myself.” Jackson says and you put two straws into the shake.

“People are biased towards vanilla because they think it’s basic, but it’s not! It’s original and iconic. There’s nothing wrong with being vanilla.” You smile at him.

You drop a finger in the whipped cream and bring it up to your mouth, sucking the sweetness off your finger. Your eyes meet with Eddie’s over Jackson’s shoulder.

His eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide taking up the chocolate brown you love so much. He’s rolling his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches you intently.

Your eyes flicker back to Jackson and he’s smiling at you softly, a sheepish look on his face. He leans down and takes a sip of the milkshake and groans as he does.

“Okay, you’re right. This is good.”

“See! Nothing wrong with vanilla.” You repeat before taking a sip yourself.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you fish it out as Jackson takes another sip.

Eddie 7:37pm: do that again.

Your eyes flicker up to Eddie and he’s staring at you. You stare back for a few seconds before you look down at your phone and type out a response.

You 7:37pm: Who’s this?

You can be petty.

He responds immediately.

Eddie 7:37pm: bet it doesn’t taste as sweet as you did.

Your cheeks warm at the thought of him licking your arousal off his own fingers and you keep your eyes down on your phone.

You can’t think of a witty reply. So you lock your phone and keep it face up in your lap, before turning back to Jackson.

“See any good movies lately?” You ask lamely, trying to keep the conversation flowing but too preoccupied by Eddie.

Your phone buzzes again and you ignore it.

“Movies?” Jackson chuckles, “Uh not really. I’ve been focusing on fixing up my truck, honestly.”

“Oh really?” You fake interest with a smile.

Your phone buzzes a second time and your eyes can’t help but flicker down.

Eddie 7:38pm: have you been thinking about me?

Eddie 7:39pm: thinking about my fingers fucking you?

You close your eyes to compose yourself as you look back up at Jackson. He’s too interested in talking about his truck to notice you’re not paying him any attention.

Looking down at your lap you read the flood of texts you just received.

Eddie 7:40pm: I’ve been thinking about you.

Eddie 7:40pm: thinking about how you taste.

Eddie 7:40pm: how you felt when you came on my fingers.

Eddie 7:40pm: I know you’d feel fucking unbelievable coming on my cock.

The last message has you squeezing your thighs together. The thought of Eddie’s cock inside you has been on your mind for the past three days. You’ve touched yourself thinking about it, imagining him taking you against your soft sheets, or in his trailer, van, anywhere really.

“What’re you think?” Jackson asks.

You look up fast and blink a few times.

“About what colour to paint my truck? Red or black?” He clarifies.

“Oh, uh, red?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking that too!” He keeps rambling about the truck tyres or engine, you’re not really sure.

Eddie 7:42pm: would you let me finish inside you? I know you’re on the pill.

Eddie 7:42pm: wanna fill you up and watch my cum drip out of you

That’s the nail in the coffin of your patience. You clear your throat and interrupt Jackson.

“Umm, this has been fun or whatever but I actually have to go.” You say standing up. Your eyes look over quickly at Eddie who is watching you as he eats a few fries.

“Oh? I thought we could maybe go back to mine or something.” He smiles up at you hopefully.

You frown apologetically, “Sorry. I’ll see you later?”

He nods, but his expression shows a tad bit of frustration like his night has now been wasted playing nice with you when he couldn’t get anything out of it.

You ignore him and turn to walk towards the bathroom. You pass the counter, and smile at Joan as you go, pushing open the bathroom door and turning into the ladies’ room.

As you enter the end cubicle, you pull out your phone and sit on the closed toilet, going to scroll through Eddie’s messages again. You read each one, feeling your skin warm and your stomach tighten in arousal.

You can’t believe him. After no contact for three days, this is what you get?

The door to the bathroom opens and shuts with a thud. You can hear heavy footsteps walking along the tiled floor, they get louder as they grow closer. You look underneath the cubicle door, seeing familiar dirty converse standing directly in front of it.

Knuckles rap against the wood in a rhythmic fashion.

“Y/N…” Eddie drags out your name.

You stay silent and watch his feet.

“Little pig! Little pig! Let me in.” He sings, a soft chuckle following it.

You stand up, your clothes rustling and echoing in the quiet bathroom. You step forward, reaching for the lock and turning it slowly. Pulling your hand back, the door opens with a creek, Eddie coming into view inch by inch.

He stands there, looking good enough to eat. He’s wearing his usual leather jacket over a black Judas Priest shirt. His black jeans are ripped at the knees.

He smiles brightly at you, creases forming around his mouth and his brown eyes narrowing.

You’re both quiet for a minute, staring at each other. You feel his eyes roaming your body, goosebumps rising on your skin under his gaze.

“Hey.” He says taking a step into the cubicle.

You give him a look of disbelief. After three days that’s all he’s got to say to you.

You push at his chest, “Asshole!”

He sways a little but stands tall.

You push at him again and he grabs at your wrists as they land on his chest.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“You fucking just ghosted me!”

You struggle against his hold but give up after he shows no sign of letting go.

“I know.”

“Why?” You ask defeated.

He brings your hands up to his face and presses kisses on your knuckles. “I’m sorry.” He whispers against the skin, “I got scared, I don’t know, I just freaked out.”

“Why, though?”

He lowers your hands so you’re holding each other down near your waists.

“I thought maybe you didn’t want me that way.”

You scoff, “I literally orgasmed. I wanted it!”

“Yeah, I realise that now. I thought it through.”

“You’re still an asshole.” You smirk.

He grins back and begins slowly stepping forward, pushing you further back into the cubicle. He lets go of your hand to reach behind him and push the door closed, twisting the lock in place.

He stands in front of you and you take one step back, your thighs hitting the edge of the toilet.

“Maybe I can make it up to you?” He asks, titling his head slightly.

“Maybe.”

He crowds against you, grabbing at your waist and moving you against the wall. His face hovers above you, half an inch away, his deep chocolate eyes flickering over your face.

“Or maybe,” you start, “maybe I can catch up with Jackson.” It’s an empty threat but Eddie’s brows frown at the thought.

“No.” He says. His right hand comes up to grab at your chin, his thumb pulling down your bottom lip a little. “You’re mine.”

“Yours?” You whisper.

His thumb presses harder against your lip, pushing upwards and sliding into your mouth.

You drop your jaw, opening your mouth a little wider. Your tongue flattens out for him to glide his thumb along it.

“All mine.” He murmurs.

You suck on his thumb, pressing your tongue up against it and hollowing your cheeks.

“Fuck.” He sighs, eyes transfixed on your mouth.

Slowly, you draw your head back, pulling your mouth off him, the squelch of the suction breaking is loud in the space between you both.

He licks at his lips as he watches the spit glistening on his thumb.

“Did you like my texts?” He asks.

Your head drops back further to thud against the wall, your hair scratches against you as you nod slowly.

“What do you think, hmm?” His hand comes up to your hair line, pushing the strands back in soft strokes. “Would you let me come inside you?”

Your heart jumps at the question. Swallowing down the spit pooling in your mouth, you nod again.

“Gimme your words, baby.” He says.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

You huff a little, “Yes, I want you to come inside me.”

His free hand splays against your stomach, inching down to the waistline of your jeans. His skilled fingers pop your button open and push down your zipper, the pads of his fingers landing on the soft cotton of your panties.

Slowly but surely, he works his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, trailing down the top of your cunt and pressing his middle finger in between your slit.

You gasp as his finger circles your clit.

He smiles at your intake of breath and slides another finger alongside the first, gliding them between your folds and lapping up your arousal.

He circles your entrance, before pushing two fingers in.

You squeak as he curls his fingers up, searching for the rough spot inside you that makes you clench around him. You moan out as he continues thrusting his fingers into you.

“Eddie.”

He leans his forehead against yours and keeps fingering you.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Don’t want your fingers.”

He smiles and kisses your cheek, “No?”

You shake your head.

“What do you want?”

His fingers come up to rub your clit some more and you cry out.

“I want...” you trail off as he continues to toy with you.

“Yes?” He asks with a smile, nosing at your cheekbone.

“I want your cock.”

He laughs and his warm breath hits your face.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

He pulls his hand out from your underwear, his other hand coming down to your jeans and pushing them down your legs, along with your underwear. You toe off your shoes and slide your jeans and panties off, leaving them on the floor next to the toilet.

You reach forward and grab at Eddie’s belt, unbuckling it and pushing his pants and boxers down over cock. It springs free, hitting his black tee and leaving a spot of precum.

You go to grab at his cock but he grabs at your hand to stop you.

“Wait,” he breathes out, “I wanna…” he looks over your face and then reaches up to take it in his hands, “I wanna kiss you.”

He holds your face so softly in his calloused hands.

You realise, in both these times you’ve been together, you’ve never kissed each other. You’ve never had your lips pressed against his or your tongue in his mouth.

It was a line you both unknowable hadn’t tried to cross. Touching each other was one thing, but kissing felt more personal. Like it could break your friendship if it went wrong.

You look down at his pink lips, wanting nothing more than to touch them with your own.

“Kiss me then.” You whisper.

He takes no time rushing forward and pressing his lips on yours. You inhale against him, breathing him in.

His tongue licks into your mouth, massaging with yours. Your nose rubs against his cheek as you push further against him, wanting to get as close as possible.

Eddie’s hand comes down to grab your left leg, his arm coming up underneath it to hold it up. He pulls away from your lips, pressing his forehead against yours and looking down in between you. You both catch your breath and stare down as his other hand reaches for his cock and guides it towards you.

The head of his cock brushes against your folds, lapping your juices. Eddie’s head drops back and he groans out lowley.

“Jesus Christ.”

He lines up at your entrance and looks up at you quickly, watching your reaction as he slides into you. His arm holding your leg up tenses as your heat surrounds him.

Your mouth drops open and your eyes squeeze shut as he pushes all the way in. Your breathing gets heavier as he bottoms out, his pelvis flush with yours.

Eddie leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling out slowly and pushing back in. He keeps a steady slow pace, his free hand holding your hip.

Your leg aches from the stretch of being held up but it’s all forgotten when he starts moving faster. The echo of skin slapping each other can be heard throughout the bathroom, accompanied by your heavy breathing.

He keeps fucking hard and fast. His hand on your waist trails down to your crotch, sliding to your clit. His fingers begin circling the nub in rhythm with his hips.

You let out a moan, “Fuck, fuck, Eddie.”

You feel the warmth in your core starting to unravel, getting closer to your release.

He smiles at you and presses kisses along your jawline.

A thud of a door can be heard in the distance and Eddie’s hips stop their movements, as he listens out for more noise.

The door to the ladies’ bathroom opens and closes and someone walks in and enters the cubicle next to yours. The side of Eddie’s face is pressed against the side of yours, his mouth hovering over your ear.

“Better keep quiet. Don’t wanna get caught, do ya, baby?” He whispers.

His fingers start playing with your clit again, but his hips stay still, keeping his cock deep inside you.

You bite your lip to prevent a moan as he keeps toying relentlessly with your swollen nub.

You can hear the rustling in the next stall and the toilet flushes. The person very slowly makes their way out to wash their hands and it feels like forever until they finally leave the bathroom.

You release a loud breath as the door shuts.

“Oh my god.”

Eddie laughs and brings a hand up to hold your hip as he starts fucking back into you.

He continues pounding into you, his lips pressing all over your face and then landing on your lips. He licks filthily into your mouth, groaning at the taste of you.

He pulls back slightly, breathing against your mouth. His hips show no sign of slowing down as his hand comes back down to your clit.

“Gonna fill you up.” He says.

You nod at his statement, your noses brushing each other. “I want it.”

His fingers on your clit start rubbing fast and furious, his hips starting to stutter as he gets closer to his orgasm.

Your walls tighten around him and he hisses.

The white heat inside you grows and soon you feel it flowing over. You moan out into his mouth and he breathes it in.

“Fuck! I’m coming, I’m coming.” You cry.

His hips fuck you through your orgasm and he comes undone just after you.

His come paints your insides, filling you to the brim. He moans out your name, breathing heavy against you. He keeps moving slowly inside you, milking himself dry before slumping against you, his face hiding in your neck.

Your hand comes up to cup his head as you both try to catch your breath.

He gently pulls out of you and you feel his come dripping out of your hole. You grimace at the loss.

He lets down your leg, very slowly and you feel the soreness in your thigh radiate down your leg.

You lean against the wall and watch as he pulls his jeans up. He reaches down and grabs your jeans and panties, handing them to you.

As you slide your pants back on he kisses at your neck and face and you laugh as you awkwardly hop into your clothes.

“Eddie.” You giggle.

He laughs too and holds your hips. He tilts his head as he looks down at you and reaches one of his hands up to push your hair from your face.

“You’re beautiful.” He says it almost accidentally, like he can’t keep the words from spilling out.

You smile up at him. “So are you.”

That makes him smile bright, his eyes creasing at the edges.

You stand there with no shoes on in Benny’s diner’s bathroom and stare up at your best friend.

“Back to yours?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” He says before he kisses your forehead.

#modern!eddie munson #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #joseph quinn #oz writes #oz writes eddie munson #nxyoz

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demonbanger · 1 year

Text

𝔇𝔬𝔫’𝔱 𝔣𝔯𝔢𝔱 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 ℑ’𝔪 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 |

ft. sex demon ! 𝗘𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗦 𝗞𝗜𝗗 | 🌶 🔞 MDI

“𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙩, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡.” — E. Kid, to you

synopsis: on a lonely night you decide to get a bit buzzed and think, fuck it, why not try to summon a sex demon? Turns out to be either the biggest blessing, or biggest mistake you’ve made in a while.

♫: click for inspo song

pairing: Incubus! Kid x Fem! Reader (no physical description of reader, except hair that can be pulled)

cw: *inhales* demon summoning, bully Eustass, brat taming, blood + pain play, cunnilingus, drinking mention, predator x prey, breeding, dacryphilia, dumbification, belly bulge, overstimulation, praise + degradation, size kink af with our 6’7 king, use of pet names, insane stamina, gets softer at the end

tags: @goshitshardtohaveagoodname @nikos-a-clown @pinkcrystal-rose

______

You stuff your fingers in your dribbling pussy, but just could not get yourself full enough. You felt like such a horny bastard tonight, with so much sexual desperation, and finally decided you wanted to start masturbating again. But nothing worked like when you first started; you’ve just been single for too long and miss the feeling of real cock.

Even a dildo couldn’t do the trick anymore. You needed the real thing, with pumping veins and harsh thrusts, attached to a heavy man that pressed you into the mattress, with low grunts and dirty words moaned lowly into your ear.

You sigh in frustration and set the toys down, taking a swig out of some whiskey to let it take over more of your senses. The liquor burns so beautifully going down your throat…too bad there wasn’t another hot liquid also sinking down your oral cavity.

The familiar floaty headspace seeps in like an old friend that you keep away at arm’s length, as your heartbeat drums in your warm chest. Buzzed you feels like a dragon waking from a slumber, with old runes in the form of dumb ideas filling your brain.

“Might as well fucking summon a sex demon at this point,” you mutter. The idea rolls over in your head for a few minutes, and the curiosity of trying something crazy and reckless like this gets more and more appealing to your buzzed brain, until eventually you think: Wait. Fuck it, what if I tried it at least? You laugh to yourself.

What would you have to lose anyways? Just your soul? You don’t even feel like you have one these days until you drink good old caffeine.

You tap the safari icon on your phone, to research how one would even go about summoning an incubus, and take another swig to invite the madness more.

A few forums say the same thing. People asking if you actually want to invite such a thing into your life, some dude talking about how his wife cheated on him with one of those entities and was never the same after that. Hahah…cuck.

You scoff. You have existential crises every day, no sex demon can fuck your life up like you feel you can. Demons, where you at? It’s ya boi. You think about the meme and cackle way too hard for something so unfunny and possibly life-threatening.

Then you scroll over a comment that is long with a lot of upvotes on it. It looks serious. Seems legitimate. There are no comments underneath, but it reads like a serious spell book.

Eh, why not? You laugh again. The comment warned against masturbating beforehand to make sure your sexual energy was at its peak to really invite any sexual spirits. Welp, already fucked that up, so if this doesn’t work at least you could have something fun to do and then tire yourself out and call it a night.

Then you read how it involves extracting blood from a few…sources such as the tongue and pussy and you wonder if there’s a better way. A paper cut on any of those things sounds gross. Eek.

You look over YouTube and find the first video that pops up. The speaker sounds experienced, and says that it’s much simpler than any methods. Just make a request to the demon Asmodeus by reaching a meditative state, and adamantly focusing on his name.

Simple enough. You try and make sure your room is a little tidy, burn a couple of cutesy candles, and dress in a black spiked collar and a cute, lacey red lingerie set you got yourself a little while back. Scarlet garters hold up soft thigh highs that bring out your thighs and make your lower body look extra luscious. You take in this moment of feminine confidence. What are you? You’re a bad bitch. And what are you about do? Get fucked.

You sit prettily on your bed, take another swig of the burning drink, shake your hips in excitement, close your eyes, and make the signature meditation pose. You even put the sigil of Asmodeus on your laptop to better reach him. Look at you, doing the most. Then, you bite your lip in concentration and your buzzed brain is slow enough to focus on one thing slowly.

Asmodeus. Asmodeus. Asmodeus, are you with me? You think with intention.

Just as you thought. No answer. You continue.

Asmodeus, I know I never spoke to you in my life. I’m Y/n, I know this is silly but I don’t mind giving up some of my energy to get fucked voraciously by a demon boy. An incubus please. Is that ok?

You wait for an answer, peep at the candles. They’re just flickering normally. You try not to psych yourself into micro analyzing the movement of the little flames. Drunk you could do that all night. But you need to keep focused. Then you continue.

Hopefully it is ok, Mr. Asmodeus. I don’t know if I need to give up my blood n shit. I’m just a little drunk girl and honestly I’ve given up so much life energy to toxic exes at this point, you don’t need to warn me,, I know I’m rambling, but uh, yeah. I don’t give a fuck. But also, respectfully, make sure he wants me too. That shit’s hot. Do you even hear me at this point?

A chill up your spine stops you from thinking further. It’s such a chill that you shiver. It’s the same sensation in your nerves that you’d feel if someone ran a finger along your entire sensitive spine. Your window isn’t open.

There’s no way.

Good talk, you think. Don’t know what the fuck that was.

You sigh, keeping yourself open for answers. Maybe he’s thinking? Who knows. For a second you almost feel a little silly for getting all dressed and stuff.

Then you feel a chill up your spine, only more intense. Your hairs stand on end. It’s kind of spooky. You’re drunk though so you’re in more of a relaxed, “oh no!!! anyways” sort of mindset. But none of your windows are open and you haven’t turned on the AC all day.

You take another swig out of the bottle and your face burns. You’re sure your eyes are a bit bloodshot, face flushed. You think about what a male demon would say if he saw you. Probably something like—Put the bottle down, sweetheart.

You cackle in your mind. Sorry about that, daddy, gotta have fun.

Keep calling me that, I like it, the thought says a bit louder in your mind, purring more sexily than you’ve ever imagined a man sounding. Wait, did you make that up or are you tripping?

Dumbass.

You open your eyes again. So that was your imagination…or was it? There’s a little bit of doubt in your mind. Either way your imagination is vivid and you crack yourself up.

Damn it, you play too much, now your drunk ass can’t even tell what’s someone telepathically communicating to you and what’s you imagining someone telepathically communicating to you.

You clear your throat a little.

“Oi, am I wasting my time? Am I making this up? Give me a sign or show yourself , but don’t like scare me, or else I’m just going to sleep.” You try to speak clearly and confidently.

Your head whips around to the wall at something suddenly in your peripheral, and you notice a little area starts to glow, brighter and brighter. It’s a sigil. The same one you put on your computer moments ago. It’s very slow. Your heart feels like it’s in your fucking throat as you blink extra hard. Nope, still there. Holy fuck??

You swallow, slightly nervous besides your sense of fear being dulled down.

A gasp leaves your throat at a sudden tapping noise coming straight from the sigil. A fist punches through your wall, except not actually punching through its material. The glowing sigl must be some sort of portal. You let out a shocked squeal as the fist shakes around the air of your room. The clawed hand opens and the body attached steps out.

“The fuck was that?”

Oh lord. He’s huge. And above all else, irresistibly sexy.

The demon stands before you, towering over most of your room proudly, a wild crown of red hot hair adorning his head. The candlelight flickers wildly as he looks directly at you. His handsome features complete with sharp eyes like glowing amber surrounded by darkness, almost dragon-like. Is that…lipstick? And guyliner. Another shiver runs through you at how attracted you are to this creature from hell. You must’ve made Asmodeus laugh and scored the jackpot in return. That sharp nose.. with the pretty bumps on the side…you wonder how it would feel riding it.

He’s wearing a coat trimmed with maroon fur, that still leaves little to the imagination as his entire muscular, giant torso is bare with a sheen that accentuates carved abs, perhaps sweat because hell is hot. Black pants with chains hang low on his hips. You don’t see visible wings but are sure he can make them appear if he wanted.

Just, holy shit.

Dark maroon lips smirk. His voice is raspy, a little tired, a little indifferent, but the look in his eyes says otherwise. “So…you gonna just keep staring at me all night and get off that way, or?”

You bite your lip. He’s so fucking smug. Your pussy starts pooling more wetness than already built up.

“I-well, yeah, you just appeared through my fucking wall,” you roll your eyes, not submitting so easily. “The hell did you expect?”

The demon flashes a mouth full of beautiful, dangerous teeth.

“Pretty little minx, and a smart mouth on ya too. I guess he was right it’d be worth bothering the admiral of the legions, can’t wait to fuck the brattiness out of you.”

Black, ornate trousers that appear punk and shredded to bits sway as he steps closer to your bed.

“Oh, Careful—” you warn but one of his beautiful, tall, twisty horns hits your ceiling fan, and you find it comical how a 7 foot tall demon is cursing at hitting his left horn in your room.

His eyes squint at you. “Fucking brat. Laughing at me, not even telling me your name. I could drag a rude little mortal like you to hell and eat you alive for lack of manners,” he drawls, little to no venom in his words, his voice so deep and rich you almost get lost in it for a moment. Little does he know you want him to eat you alive.

“Oh—, I mean you’re right, sorry sir,” you spit out the sorry as sarcastically as possible, “I’m Y/n, what’s your name?”

He eyes your thighs clenching together and a mocking chuckle bubbles in his chest. “Name’s Kid. But you, little thing, can call me Eustass for tonight when I’m impaling you on my cock.”

A little whimper is forced out of you at how dirtily he spoke, like he made an incantation to turn you on instantly. “Eustass,” you try out, making precum drip out of him more than he’d like to admit. Your eyes flit down to his cock that he mentioned, then back up. He knows you were staring. And he’s so damn smug about it too, because the big guy’s bulge looks absolutely huge.

He looks over at the toys on your bed and scoffs, picking up your dildo, and eyeing it snarkily. Your face burns in indignation at his wolfish, leering smirk.

“Oh princess. Might as well throw these—“ he locates your trash bin, “right here. Because I’m gonna fucking ruin them for you. And you can kiss any man’s dick goodbye.” He drops your sex toys into the trash like a mic drop.

And you’re not even mad. Your thighs shift against the fabric of your bodysuit to gain any sort of friction, so turned on from imagining what’s to come.

“Yeah? You like that? I can just smell how much that turned you on. Such a pathetic, needy, desperate slut. You in heat or something?”

You can only nod your head.

He makes his way back to the bed, walking like he has all the time in the world, and you eye him for how beautiful and dangerous he is, oozing sex appeal. He also eyes you hungrily, like a starved carnivore eyeing its new living meal. Heat from hell radiates off of him, and he smells otherworldly; almost sweet; with notes of pure musk, steel, blood, leather, sweat, and desire.

(You don’t know that the pheromones you’re releasing have a similar effect on him, but he wants to make you beg and whimper; mewl, cry, break).

You take in shaky breaths, not because those fangs could rip chunks out of you if he wanted to…well, that’s hot too.

Kid grabs your bottle of whiskey from your mattress, eyeing you with pure hunger as he gets so close to you, and sets it on the floor. “That’s gonna break if it stays on your bed.” He dips his head closer to you, inhales again to smell your arousal, and his eyes roll shut.

“A-are we gonna have a safeword? I’m not paying any hospital bills if you break my body,” you finally speak up, voice pitch heightened from horniness.

He scoffs. “How fucking adorable, such a needy stupid baby, you didn’t even think before making a contract with someone who could do whatever he wants with you no?” the redhead strokes your thigh as he sounds so mean and condescending, large clawed hand gripping your upper leg, squeezing your supple flesh. His breathing is heavy. Fiery eyes peer down into your soul as he pauses.

“Spikes.” He feels your collar, humming in approval. “But just know, you signed up to be fucked. And drained.” His blackened thumb traces over your bottom lip as he holds your chin. “If you can’t handle the heat, you should know better than to booty call hell.”

“Mhmm,” you say, nodding in his hold, tongue darting out to caress his finger. Kid snarls.

Just like that, a large palm presses on your sternum and shoves you down onto the bed. He yanks you by the hips to the edge of the mattress with a bruising grip, and bucks his clothed hips into yours sharply, trouser-covered bulge slapping your pussy roughly, eliciting a whine from your throat.

“Gonna keep your neighbors up with us all night just like this,” he growls, bucking onto you, hands tracing your hips, fingers dipping under your bodysuit to caress your soaking core.

“Wet kitty, so fucking sinful.” He pulls out his fingers, separating them and admiring how your slick strings up and drips down his hand. Then, glowing eyes gaze into yours as a long, sharp, forked tongue licks your essence up, cleaning them in one stroke. You throb. He tosses his trench coat to the floor and you admire his giant, muscular body. Thick neck you want to scratch up. Giant muscles carved of porcelain and littered with scars that you want to bite and paint even prettier. A fallen angel of vermillion, ready to stab you in the dark, drag you down in lust and weeping to your personal circle of heavenly hell.

Without another word, he dips his head down and snaps the crotch of your bodysuit open leaving you with no room to think. He flattens his large, forked tongue and licks a broad, wet stripe over your sopping cunt.

“ ‘s cunny’s mine,” he breathes, and begins his attack on you with his mouth, squeezing your thighs, large tongue teasing into you.

“Yes it’s all—, ohhhh~” He pulls out and shoves two huge fingers with painted fingernails into your entrance, stretching you out and making you arch your back from the sudden stimulation, pussy smushing into his face further. He growls again, feral in nature, the vibrations going straight to your clit as he intently watches your reactions. Wide tongue lapping at your clit, swirling, making you speak in tongues and whimper at how full you are. You do not regret summoning a demon at all.

He adds a third impossibly thick finger and scissors them in and out of you, then impatiently thrusts his tongue back in to fuck you, massaging every little nook and cranny of your textured walls. Swirling up, and up, and up until your brain rots inside your skull and you’re roughly grabbing handfuls of his hair.

You hear him groan a prideful, muffled “Good girl,” as his nose bumps into your clit so snugly. Your eyes roll back at the praise. It’s too much, all of it is too much. And yet, you need more, more, more, please, please, please. His tongue hits a tender spot that makes you jolt and begins to attack it in a full-fledged assault, causing you to snap your gaze back to him and buck your hips greedily into him.

Greedy. He likes that. He likes how greedy your cunt is, because he’s just as greedy for you. Your thighs clench around his head when he shakes his face, soaked in your juices, side to side to rub your clit with his nose pressed tightly to you. “E-Eustass!” you call out for him, all strangled, and a purr rumbles in his thick chest.

In response, he only clenches your thighs tighter around his face, continuing to torture you with his pink tongue that’s long and mobile like a fucking tentacle.

You cry out as talonesque nails dig into your thighs and little pricks of blood come out, but he doesn’t care. And neither do you. You grind on him, head swimming in lust, probably only worsening the pinprick wounds. He leans back with you and completely sits down on the floor beneath, holding the entire weight of your body on top of his face with the strength of a powerful war demon.

He slides you up and down, and you tremble, spots of white flecking your vision as you ride his face, smearing your never ending slick to his insatiable delight.

His amber eyes glare at you, urging you to let go and come undone on top of him. Yet mocking you for needing to cum so soon.

And that’s what you do, shaking violently, curling over him, death grip on his scarlet tresses, as he groans at how delicious you taste. The orgasm washes over you so hard you almost fall slack, almost, as your moans fall silent from your circuits sparking. He drinks up all the essence you have to offer, lips smacking at how delicious you are, deep “Mmmhfuck” causing your nipples to perk.

He stands back up and sets you back down on the bed, unzipping his pants.

You’re lightheaded from the most amazing orgasm of your entire life, gazing at the ceiling as static fills your brain in ocean waves of dumbified pleasure.

Then your mouth gapes open at the sight in front of you. Beautifully red pubes trail right over his giant hand, fisting the biggest cock you’ve seen.

“Ngh, t-too big,” you whimper.

“Oh, I’m shocked you can speak,” he laughs darkly.

“Barely,” you try to prop yourself up on your elbows, but it’s so difficult and you fall back down.

He laughs at you, humiliating you in his stare. “Such a weak kitten,” the demon mocks you in faux sympathy.

You feel as though you nutting just now made you so insanely tired.

“Just lay back, dollface, you’re giving daddy life energy as a snack. Gonna make you even prettier, so dumb you can’t even speak.”

Before you can protest, he’s spearing you with his cockhead, ripping a loud moan from your throat.

He’s merciless, as no god has shown him, a fallen angel, any mercy. So why should he, an incubus leeching off of your sexual energy, show any mercy to a cunt that’s all his and swallows him in just right.

He continues to sink into you, and your nails pay him back by digging into him now, in his meaty forearms.

Kid’s tongue darts out over his crimson lips.

“Keep,” he thrusts out slightly, admiring the way you grip him, “fucking,” he thrusts back in all the way, making you shriek, “taking it.” The pain is so much, too much, the stretch fucking burns at how large of a cock is intruding you, but he hammers into you without regards to your comfort or pleasure. He’s the one using you, fucking you like you’re his breathing flesh light, like you’re the one working for him though he’s the escort demon. Ramming in, threatening to fuck right into your cervix, overload. You’re clamping down, your walls are rejecting him. It makes him curse loudly at how hard it is for him to move, but he’s stronger than a mere human, so ever the sadist, Kid pumps in regardless.

The pain of his unrelenting, selfish thrusts starts to turn slowly into pleasure, and the fullness and overwhelming stretch feels delicious. Your mind turns dumb and you start to whine.

“M-more,” you moan, and he grabs your tit harshly, twisting your nipple painfully, making tears rush to your eyes. He does so to the other tit, then slaps them roughly. You whimper his name, back arching like an exorcism in progress. Except exiting you, this demon is not.

“Yeah? You need some more, you selfish brat?” He growls, pace deepening and quickening. “Don’t you worry, I’m not going anywhere, not until the sun is up.” His hips snap against yours, and his nails rake down your body to fold your thighs against your chest, his crushing weight pinning you to the bed. Your mattress hitting the wall. You struggle to catch the breath that’s knocked out of you in this position.

“Fucking look at me,” he suddenly jibes, and you obediently make eye contact with him. “Now don’t you dare fucking look away or quiet those pretty noises. I want to make you scream.”

He’s going at an inhuman speed, and so fucking deep in this mating press, and hits the spot that made you cum before. His balls slapping against your ass, making you scream.

“Eustass! Eustass! Please, please, please, yes, Nnnn! Please!” You beg him to keep going, as he growls, “fuck yes, beg, princess, beg for this fucking cock,” his thrusts getting sloppier as your cunt tightens around him. Your eyes roll back a little, as he’s fucking you dumb.

“Ah!!!” You yelp, as he roughly slaps your ass.

“What did I fucking tell you?” Eustass snarls, and you bite your lip, face flushed as he glowers at you.

“T-to, to uh, look at you,” you say dumbly, gasping for air.

“That’s a smart girl,” he rubs your clit, making you squirm, and he condescendingly coos down at you, “so why don’t you look at me as I wreck you, hmm?”

His body is so big, so hot, he’s so heavy and wide as your poor legs stretch to accommodate his wide shoulders while he opens you like a flower and pounds into you. He smells so fucking good, you think, and you want him to cum inside of you and claim you as his, and you struggle but do your best to keep looking into his wild eyes. He’s absolutely feral, so intimidating, and your body rocks at his severity so you grasp the base of his horns. A little moan leaves him, and if he wasn’t pressed up so close to you, flooding up all of your thoughts and walls and senses, it would have gone undetected.

A darkness takes over his eyes. “Now you’ve fucking done it,” his voice drops ever lower, and he pulls out. Flips you over onto your hands and knees, pulls your hips to face the ceiling, and bottoms back in in one thrust. The new angle has you screaming and moaning his name, “EU—fuck!!!!” You whimper loudly, and he pushes your head down into the covers.

“Yeah—this pussy—is all—fucking mine—you hear that?” he rumbles in between thrusts, slapping your ass again as he arches your back impossibly, balls slapping your cunt. You’re too dumb to understand what he’s saying and he knows that. Your slick is everywhere between the two of you and it’s making him absolutely drunk and feral.

You’re unable to speak real words, you’re babbling and you claw the sheets as he batters your insides over and over like a battering ram. Tears and drool are soaking the covers beneath you, as you moan while you let him use you. He kneads and slaps your ass again. “Look at me.” He reminds you harshly.

You weakly turn your head to look back at him, blubbering, and his pointy, evil grin sends a jolt straight to your core again.

“You’re my fucking pet, and any man you let have this,” he makes a slicing movement with his finger over his throat. “Got it?”

You’re so gorgeous, hair plastered to your forehead and all wild, face flushed and teary, eyelashes fluttering up at him, gasping, as you whimper, “y-yes, Eustass, I belong to you,” and his deep thrusts slow luxuriously.

“Good girl,” he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you up until your back meets his sweaty inferno of a chest. He rubs more circles on your puffy, abused clit and you squirm from the buzzing overstimulation of another impending orgasm. He eats up how you clench around him, and as your head spins dizzily from him still thrusting up into you deeply, he sinks his teeth into your right shoulder, claiming you.

You cry out weakly from the pain, and spasm around him like a voodoo victim and he lazily fucks you through your second orgasm, enjoying how you make a mess all over his hand.

“Oh, that’s so sexy,” he groans, lapping at the blood on your shoulder, as you squirt all over his arm, and his cock is absolutely drenched, dripping down to his balls. He moans and with a few more thrusts, stills. He fills you up with hot cum.

The giant incubus turns you both around, you still out of breath, dumb, on his cock. “Look here.” He says, like Virgil from Dante’s Inferno showing the writer the lustful circle of hell.

You peer at your reflection in the mirror. You, so fucked out, almost unrecognizable, crying, glowing, lips plump from biting them. A huge bite mark on your shoulder. Bruised hips. Both of you scratched up with a little bit of blood. Legs shaking as you’re sitting pretty on his cock, a bulge evident in your tummy. His huge hands encircling you, him, possessively overshadowing you. He’s so much bigger than you, his width eclipsing you in the reflection.

You lean your head back tiredly. He whispers lowly into your ear. “ ‘M only just getting started with you, but look at how pretty you are as my pet, yeah? This is what I’m gonna see every single night, aren’t you excited?”

You tiredly turn your head to smoosh into his pillowy chest, his smell overpowering your senses, and you look up to him. “This is all I need,” you whisper back.

He sets you down on wobbly legs and holds you up a little. He cups your jaw in his giant hand, and the white of his canines shines. His lipstick is slightly smeared. He looks gorgeous, sinister, a glowing star of red, black, amber, and pale skin.

Then he kisses you, in a way that’s startlingly soft and passionate, in his ferocious way because Eustass is, well, Eustass. He pulls away, eyes glittering darkly.

“That’s the right response, darling.”

———————————————————————-

TO BE CONTINUED 🏴‍☠️ -> part 2!

#[✏️] speaking in tongues #demon papí draws #eustass kid smut #eustass kid x fem reader #eustass kid x reader #one piece x female reader #one piece smut #op smut #zoro smut #sanji smut #law smut #ace smut #Luffy smut

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oleander-nin · 3 months

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Hi how do you think Yandere Leo and Yandere Donnie (together) hcs from rise would act as platonic yanderes friends who don’t wanna share the readers with others , turtles rather keep the reader to themselves , but what if reader got hurt by one of the villains how do the turtles react to that 👀

A/N, not important: Sorry for the late post. I've been busy. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Kidnapping, possession of a friend, manipulation, isolation, losing all friends, toxic behavior, toxic friendship, gaslighting(technically), hint towards murder, yandere behavior

Words: 718

Summary: ROTTMNT Platonic Yandere Leo and Donnie headcanons of when you get hurt

Tag list: @f1oricide @itsyagurlchip @lordfreg @acutiewithagun @rottmnttmnt2012 @lixnininotnay @lexiechr @ssak-i

They’d both be clingy, constantly vying for your individual attention while also trying to not annoy you to the point of attempting to remove them from your life. While they have you in their sights, neither is immediately trying to kidnap you off the bat. They like knowing you’re choosing to come to them. It gives them a superior feeling to the other people you used to call friends, even if they’re the reason you no longer have any other friends.

Neither let you go for very long without seeing one of them. They can’t go a day without checking in on you in person. Text or calls doesn’t cut it.

Leo loves to send you memes and funny videos, and gets upset if you don’t respond/react to them. He’ll probably end up at your window within half an hour of you missing a text, worried something happened to you.

Have slowly driven a wedge between you and all of your other friends, effectively isolating you. Neither Leo nor Donnie even let you hang out much with Raph or Mikey, preferring to keep you as reliant on them as possible. You’re their friend, and they’re the only friends you’ll ever need.

They’ll insist on sleepovers, or you staying over with them a lot. Leo especially likes to guilt trip you into staying over, constantly whining on how you’re avoiding them if you don’t. They’re trying to get you used to staying with them, hoping that the longer you spend with them, the less likely you’ll fight back when they decide you can’t leave.

They’re also incredibly protective of you, always judging who you’re with or who you want to make friends with. They have something on every person you try to form a bond with, trying to feed into your paranoia while painting themselves as your heroes. Donnie and Leo aren’t like everyone else, you can trust them.

Because of the different ways Leo and Donnie handle things with you, it ends up being in their benefit. You’re mad at Leo? Donnie will spend time with you and try to calm you down while making you see Leo’s point of view. You found Donnie’s tracker and are avoiding him? Of course Leo knew nothing about it, but can you blame Donnie? He’s only trying to keep you safe.

Their tag teaming makes it so you will never be able to have a break from them, and you won’t ever be able to be mad at one without the other coming to show you all the reasons you shouldn’t be.

They try their best to keep you away from the dangers of their ‘work’, telling you recounts of their fights while making sure you’ll never see one firsthand. They want to impress you and make you feel like they will be able to keep you safe, but never want you to be in the line of fire. Your safety will always be their top priority.

So when you show up with bruises and scratches one day, they’re both immediately on high alert. Both are nearly immediately up in arms and ready to kill as you tell them what happened. By the time you finish your account, Donnie’s already located the villain responsible and is having SHELLDON track their every move.

Neither of them leave your side until you’re feeling better and patched up. They’re delighted you came to them, and know that if they left now, you’d be upset while having to deal with your pain and fear alone. They’ll set up your favorite movie for you in the projector room, swaddling you in blankets and ordering your favorite take out.

As soon as you’ve calmed down, and hopefully fallen asleep, they’ll both go find who hurt you, and make sure they’ll never be able to hurt a single hair on you again.

When they return, they make sure to not alert you as they finally finish their preparations to the small train car they converted into your new room. The world is too dangerous for you, especially now that they’ve failed to protect you. They swear to never let something happen to you ever again, even if it means never letting you go. Which is fine by them, it’s not like this isn’t exactly what they wanted.

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leighsartworks216 · 4 months

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for the requests, 20 (suggestive) or 47 (non-sexual) with an afab enby reader? thanks!

20 - French kiss; 47 - Tummy kisses

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

I'm soooo kiss starved oh mY GOD

Warnings: nudity, bathing together, very slight angst

Word Count: 546

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Kiss Prompts

“You look ravishing, darling.”

You chuckle and draw your Star closer with your arms around his neck. The water sloshes gently around his body as he kneels between your legs in the bath. A nice, relaxing spa day was long overdue. “Thank you. You’re pretty easy on the eyes yourself.”

He smirked wryly, pinching your side playfully. You squirm away from it, glaring with no malice at the rogue.

He looks so at ease here among the steam and fragrances. The moment you brought up the idea, he’d gone on about which perfumes would suit you best, especially ones that would compliment his usual scent of bergamot, rosemary, and brandy. Now you were actually here, sitting before him, trusting him to take care of you just as he trusted you to do the same, perfumes were the furthest thing from his mind.

Astarion can’t resist the temptation as he leans in and noses your neck, lips brushing along your collarbone. You sigh and tilt your head, allowing him more access to your neck. How strange for you to let a vampire so freely near your neck, and how he loves it.

“We only have a couple hours in here,” you remind him gently, but you don’t stop him. You run your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp as you go. He hugs your waist, squeezing you to show his appreciation for your touch. He couldn’t imagine going even an hour without your fingers brushing along his cheek, a day without a hug. He craved your touch just as much as he craved your blood, if not more.

“I can do plenty in a couple hours,” he teases, voice low. He feels goosebumps travel along your skin in spite of the hot water.

He kisses languidly along your neck, your shoulder, down your chest. His eyes are closed, his movements reverent. He doesn’t worship any god, but he worships you. His mouth leaves loving, chaste pecks along your stomach, until his chin just about touches the water. He sighs as he presses his nose against your tummy, smirking devilishly when you tense under him, tickled by the light touch.

Satisfied, he lifts his head back up. You look at him with such fondness, eyes relaxed and half-lidded not with lust but with contentment. You’re so gorgeous. So precious to him. It scares him; so much could go wrong so quickly. Who knows what will happen after this adventure is over? Would you even still want to be with him after that?

As if reading his mind, you cup his cheek and give him the sweetest smile. He can worry later. For now, he just wants you. He tilts his head into your hand as he claims your mouth. You welcome him easily, opening your mouth with the slightest brush of his tongue along your lip. He meets your tongue with his, tasting you, indulging himself in you. All his senses are devoured by you. Your smell, your sounds, your touch, your taste; even when he peeks at you, you look so utterly gorgeous. He cups the back of your neck with one hand, the other pulling you closer to the edge of the bath seat, and loses himself in everything you can give him.

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @sylverqueencosplay @tototini @ashrio20 @bambamwolf87 @astarion-imagine-archive @thistrashisreadytobash @rosxtinted @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @the-lake-is-calling @nyxmainex @squid-killer @godoffuckedupcats @dontneedbiologytoadopt

#request #requested #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader

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photo1030 · 11 months

Text

Leather and Lace - Chapter16: Feelings Revealed

PART 2 - WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?

Summary: After Arthur’s rejection, tensions run high between the two of you and decisions need to be made.

*As always, special thank you to my best-y @rivetingrosie4 for beta-reading and all the helpful notes & encouragement.

*Full disclosure: The line about “the moon and stars” further in the story is based on a meme I read. And I have images from @red-dead-simp and @regwishesshehadmagic in here.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

*This stunning image comes from @red-dead-simp

Tag List: @rivetingrosie4 @bimbo-dollz @pine4pple-b0i @redwritr @kuri-chans-blog @queer-sadie-adler @joelmillerswifey @gimmethosedaddymilkers @pcotarelo @delilah-grimes @maemortem @wistfulwisteriawitch @lilacxxdreams @mentallyillfrogs @absolutegeek @spurz @sophiaj650 @uniqueclodzinevoid @lookingformaurice @pawoui @randomidk-123 @yyiikes @eddiemetalheadmunson @twola @kmartkiddieisle @red-dead-simp @regwishesshehadmagic

*I tagged people who expressed interest in the continued story. If you’d like to be added or removed, please let me know.

The ride back to camp from the overlook is terribly awkward. Your mind is blank and foggy and your body numb as you sit slightly slumped in Blue's saddle. You are reeling from the preceding events. You keep your horse moving at a quicker pace to stay ahead of Arthur's as you head home. Any time that you hear him approaching closer to you, your muscles tense up and you spur your heels into Blue's side to encourage him to go just a bit faster to maintain the distance between you. You can't even bring yourself to look at Arthur for fear of shattering into inconsolable pieces out of humiliation.

For Arthur, the entire ride back is riddled with regret and second-guessing. He casts his gloomy eyes on your backside the entire way home, without so much as a glance back or sound from you. It causes his heart to break in two. And oh, how he wants to give the other half of it to you. But as he looks down at his gnarled hands and the worn metal of the guns that hang so naturally on his hips, he knows this is the way it has it be. He is going to keep you safe, whether you like it or not. You may hate him for it, but at least you'll be alive to do it.

When you hit the treeline of the camp, you push Blue just a bit faster and lead him to the far end of the hitching posts, determined to stay as far away from Arthur as you can for the time being. You quickly dismount, with the hair on the back of your neck standing up as you feel his eyes watching you, while keeping your back to the man. Once you have Blue settled in for the day, you make haste to head to your tent, walking briskly and keeping your head down. Your eyes stay focused along the soft grass at your feet, desperate to avoid any attention from anyone else in camp. Somewhere in the distance, you can hear Karen calling your name, but you pretend not to hear her. You are not in the mood for visiting and carrying-on with your friends right now.

As soon as you reach your tent, your trembling fingers fumble to draw the sides down, a clear indication that you do not want to be disturbed. You can only hope that no one hears you sobbing quietly within the canvas. You are numb, totally and completely, as you fold your arms around yourself to keep from shaking. You cannot wrap your swimming mind around what has just happened. You poured your heart out to Arthur. You literally begged the man to be with you. And he rejected you. And worse yet, he basically severed himself from you in the process.

Arthur slowly climbs down from his own horse upon arrival, and silently watches you walk away and head to your tent. Regret coats his insides like water pouring over a river rock. But he doesn't have time to wallow too long. The man isn't even in camp for five minutes and Dutch is calling his name. He lets out a heavy groan, accompanied by a long sigh, at the sound of Dutch's voice carrying through the camp. Dutch is the last thing he wants to deal with right now.

Of course, Arthur's heavy footfalls and scowl are lost on Dutch as he approaches the older man's tent. Arthur is his guard dog; Dutch is used to seeing him angry and sullen. In fact, he almost prefers it. Dutch needs him this way. Arthur stands in front of Dutch's tent, his gaze unfocused and mind wandering as Dutch speaks to him. The man's deep voice sounds muffled in Arthur's ear as he half-halfheartedly pays attention to what is being said to him, his mind somewhere else entirely.

"Think you can handle that?" Dutch's words finally catch Arthur's attention, snapping him out of his listless thoughts.

Arthur lifts his eyes to meet Dutch's expectant gaze. "Whatever. Just make sure the tip is solid and I'll make it work."

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

Arthur takes advantage of the quick job Dutch sends him on the day that you have confessed your feelings for him. He smartly uses the opportunity to give you some breathing room and time to calm down a bit. After checking in with Dutch upon his return, he heads over to his tent to put away his things and takes a minute to breathe. Arthur stands with his thumbs hanging from his gun belt as he surveys the camp, checking the state of things. His body naturally falls into this stance whenever he stands still for a moment. And right now, he is more weary than he’s been in a long while.

His wandering eyes eventually find you working alone in your med-tent. Your hair is pulled back and out of your face so you can work, but a few tendrils of soft locks have escaped and dangle to frame your face. Your hands move slowly, practically dancing around the bowl that has enveloped your attention. Arthur takes in the heavenly sight of you, standing in a simple white blouse and green skirt set comfortably upon your hips, mulling over what he should do, as he nervously chews his plump bottom lip for a moment. Eventually, he decides to see how things feel between you two and tentatively makes his way over to your med-tent.

Arthur kneads his thumb into the palm of the opposite hand nervously while he waits for you to notice him standing there outside the tent. He stands with an uneasy grin, fidgeting slightly. "Hey you.”

You briefly look up from the steaming bowl of herbs and boiling water that you are stirring, careful not to look him in the eye for too long. "What can I do for you, Arthur?" Your voice carries none of the usual excitement that he hears when you see him.

Arthur's face drops, disappointed with your short reply. He clears his throat to attempt to dislodge the knot there before trying to continue. "I was out earlier and found some of that yarrow and dandelion root you use all the time. Grabbed some for you." He reaches into his satchel and pulls out a bundle of the fragrant herbs. He carefully unwraps them from the white cotton rag he's kept them in and holds them out to you with his large hands. A hopeful look sits upon his brow as he cranes his neck a bit to see if this peace offering will get you to look at him.

"Thank you. You can set them down on the table there," you instruct softly, pointing to the end of the table with your wooden spoon. Usually you'd jump at the chance to take something from Arthur, seizing any opportunity to touch his hands and for your fingers to teasingly graze across each other’s. But not this time. And this deviation in your behavior isn’t lost on Arthur, either.

"I could take you out and show you where I found it, if you like? In case you need more?" He gingerly sets the bundle of plants down, watchful for your reaction.

“Actually, that bundle there will last me awhile. But thank you.” With a quick and awkward smile, you return your full attention to the steaming liquid in front of you.

“Sure” he murmurs, feeling crushed. Arthur stands there a moment longer, as there is usually some sort of chatter from you. You always try to utilize his attention as much as you can when you have it. But now, you venture nothing else for him. So he turns and walks away, his boots slow to move in the grass. He does not notice that you discreetly reach up to wipe a rogue tear that escapes and cascades down your cheek as he turns away.

And so it goes on this way for a few days. You speak to Arthur only when he speaks to you, and even then, it's simple exchanges. There's no more joking or banter between you. Gone are the stolen glances and discreet blushes when catching each other staring. You have no harshness towards him, of course. But you can't bring yourself to maintain the flirtatious nature of your relationship either. You are not mad at Arthur after your revelation at the overlook, nor are you mean to him. You simply treat him like anyone else. Which, as it turns out, is something that Arthur is not prepared for. He is used to your smiles and greetings just for him. He is used to being special to you. But now, Arthur is just like everyone else in the gang.

This change in the dynamic weighs heavily on Arthur. His feelings aside, he simply misses you. It's been a long time since Arthur has had someone he can talk to and confide in. For someone who is generally annoyed by other people, Arthur has found that he enjoys your specific company. Your conversations and activities together range from the profound and insightful to the delightfully mundane and ordinary. In fact, he has come to need your companionship to balance the negativity of his life. Your softness counteracts the harshness that he experiences every time he is away from you. He craves the blissful distraction that your honey-sweet voice offers him.

One afternoon, Arthur decides to make another attempt to talk about this precarious situation. He catches you by the laundry while you are hanging today's wash to dry. You notice him out of the corner of your eye making his way over to you and you can feel your stomach start to churn as you avert your eyes to the task at hand.

He stops just in front of you as his hand comes up to rub against his chin nervously. "Y/N? Can I talk to you a minute, please?"

With a blank stare, you say nothing in response. You slowly lower your hands from the clothes line, twirling the clothes pins in your hands in distraction.

"Look, I know you're not happy with me right now, and I understand that," he starts. "But I was hoping we could still be friendly and all." Arthur's sapphire eyes search yours, looking for some indication that you are willing to put this unpleasantness behind you both.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you hesitate before you answer him. "Did you change your mind?"

"No," he shakes his head, glancing down at his boots. "No, I can't go about that. But I want things to just go back to how they were between us." Arthur is a simple man, and he is also a creature of habit. He is used to your presence in his life and, more importantly, the impact that you have on it.

“It doesn’t work like that, Arthur." You furrow your brows at him, finally speaking more than a few words at a time. "I understand your reasoning, I suppose. I don’t agree with it, but I accept it." You pause, looking down as your eyes begin to flutter at the emotional wave that you are trying to halt in your gut before you continue. "You’re allowed to feel what you do about it. I suppose I can’t be angry with you for that." Rolling the smooth wooden clothespins between your fingertips and inhaling deeply through your nose, you lift your chin to catch his gaze again. "But don’t expect me to act like nothing happened, Arthur.”

"I just can’t go down that road again, (Y/N)," he says, gesturing with his palm out, imploring you to understand. "Besides, I just want you to have a normal life."

With a slight shake of your head, you look up into his face. "Arthur, I have no interest in a 'normal life'. And besides, my life has been anything but normal already."

His only response is an eye roll before looking off to the side in frustration, trying not to start a fight with you again. The movement causes a pang of annoyance to strike in your chest as your hand plants onto your hip.

"I don't need your constant protection, Arthur." Your statement comes across a little more harshly than you intend to when you notice he is trying not to look you in the eye.

It is a comment that makes him slowly turn his face back to you with a sarcastic scowl. "Oh, I beg to differ on that one." God, the condescension is almost tangible.

You let out a deep and disappointed sigh as you study him a moment. "Nevermind. You just don’t get it." Shaking your head and dismissing this whole conversation, you bend over and harshly snatch up the laundry basket at your feet. You maneuver around him to head back to the tents and leave him standing there.

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

By this point, you have become quiet and melancholy around camp. Everyone notices that you're not your usual bubbly self, as you seem to float through camp now, rather than be a part of it. Always observant, Abigail has had enough and pins you down to ask what the hell is going on with you.

"Why are you and Arthur so odd lately? Did something happen? Did you have a fight or something?" She eyes you suspiciously, handing you a cup of coffee while you and the girls take a break from chores and sit at one of the tables. The weather is still fairly warm today and everyone is bustling about to prepare for the oncoming colder months ahead.

You look over at Abigail with a woeful look as you accept the hot cup. "I told Arthur how I feel about him."

The girls all gasp in excitement, eager to finally talk about this thrilling topic. But your somber expression immediately halts their celebratory giggles.

"I don't understand, (Y/N), why aren't you more excited about this?" asks Tilly, leaning in closer to you from across the table to know more, astonishment draped across her cherub face.

You stare listlessly at the cup in your hands. "He turned me down. He said no."

“He said what?!” Abigail’s eyes shoot wide before quickly screwing down in confusion.

“No! Why would he say that?” breathes Mary-Beth in hushed wonder, bringing her hand up to her mouth in shock. She exchanges a confused glance with Tilly before looking back to you, anxious for details.

You shrug softly with a sorrowful smile. “He doesn’t think he’s good enough for me, I guess.”

“Well, duh, of course he isn’t!” Karen blurts out with a wave of her hand before it slams down onto the table with a loud clap next to you. “But let’s be honest, there probably isn’t a man alive who is.”

“He’s entitled to his decision,” you quietly repeat the worn excuse you had given to Arthur already. “Besides, he’s been hurt before. I suppose I can’t blame him.”

“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard," argues Karen, her pouty red lips frowning. "Do you want me to go talk some sense into him, honey? I’ll put my foot in his ass and set him straight.” Her doll-like eyes burn with intensity as she crosses her arms over her chest in a huff.

“No, no." You can’t help but smile at your friend's defense of you as the image of Karen taking on Arthur makes you chuckle a bit. "I can’t force him to be with me and I wouldn’t want to anyway.”

“It just doesn’t make any sense, (Y/N),” Mary-Beth points out. “I mean, we’ve all seen the way he looks at you. And when you two are dancin’ by the fire… I wish I had that.” Mary-Beth is so sweet and always the hopeless romantic of your circle. And while all of the girls have been pulling for you and Arthur to be together, it is always Mary-Beth who is the biggest supporter of it. When you had your hang-over confession of your crush on Arthur after your drunken night out with Karen, Mary-Beth told you that you and Arthur are like a real-life story out of one of her romance novels. At the time, you dismissed the silly notion as nothing more than a foolish daydream. But, still, it was a comment that made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

With a dejected sigh, your chin lands into the palm of your hand. Your shoulders sink as you lean onto the table. "Well, doesn’t matter now, does it?"

There is an awkward stillness as this discussion settles amongst your little group. Frankly, the girls are speechless. But your quiet moment with the girls doesn't last too long before Ms. Grimshaw saunters over and disperses you all. As long as there is daylight, there is work to do, and she will make damn sure that it gets done. Dividing up the chores between you all, the matriarch ushers you and Abigail over to Pearson's wagon to start prepping vegetables for tonight's dinner. You grab yourself a cutting board and a bowl of potatoes and amble over to a small work table to start peeling.

Once she has Jack occupied, Abigail grabs a bowl of carrots for herself and sits down across the table from you. She watches you with a heartbroken and disappointed look as you set about your task. You and she have become quite close since you've come here to join the Van Der Linde gang. While she certainly cares for Arthur as her own family, she feels just awful for you. She knows how much you care for Arthur. It's so obvious in everything that you do. And she knows that you could make Arthur truly happy, too. 'Damn him,' Abigail thinks to herself. 'Why does he have to be so god-awful stubborn?'

"I’m sorry, (Y/N), really I am." Abigail's voice breaks the painful silence as the two of you work. You look up at her with the eyes of a puppy that's been kicked. "I don’t know what’s gotten into Arthur. I really thought he’d jump at the chance to call you his," she insists tenderly.

You nod in understanding, but honestly, the whole situation is becoming exhausting. You've tried so hard to come to terms with it, but it's becoming harder than you expected. “Maybe it was a mistake to come here," you admit softly, your voice slightly broken. "But back home in the east, I have nowhere to go, and I can’t go back to Rosewood." You reach into the bowl of potatoes again, your fingers working as you precariously drag the knife over the starchy vegetables. "But, I don’t want to be a problem here either, though. I’d leave here but I'm afraid to even do that." You cringe internally at how pathetic you sound, especially complaining to Abigail who has had her fair share of hardship in this world.

She observes you with a sympathetic click of her tongue being the only sound she is able to muster at the moment as you continue.

"You know," lifting your eyes back Abigail, "Arthur said I shouldn’t even be here. Suppose he’s right about that. As usual." You roll your eyes a bit. "I guess I just don’t belong anywhere."

Abigail reaches over the table and wraps her hand over top of yours. "Oh, (Y/N) please don’t say that. Of course you belong here." She affectionately squeezes your hand a bit more. "Don't listen to that fool. You're one of us now." Chuckling, she adds, "Whether you like it or not."

You finally stop peeling potatoes and give her a tired but appreciative smile. "It's times like this that I really miss my father, you know? At least we were misfits together.” Your face drops a bit at the memory of him. You and he came out west together to start a new life and, well, that is certainly what has happened. You have forged a new path for yourself with this gang of thieves and miscreants and found a new family within it.

But still, you miss your father terribly, as he was always your one true and unyielding ally in this world. There have been many moments where you have caught yourself in tears and heartache over his abrupt death. While the members of the Van Der Linde gang have been most gracious in welcoming you into their circle, that pang of sorrow still lingers like a fresh wound. And now in light of this situation with Arthur, it seems to have come back to the surface ten-fold as you're not sure what to do now. Your father was always such a kind and understanding man, very pragmatic. You’d give anything just to have his council again.

After the two of you are done helping Mr. Pearson with dinner, you head back to the privacy of your tent to nurse a throbbing headache, and Abigail wanders over to the fire with Jack in tow. While her boy plays with his wooden figurines at her feet, Abigail sits cross-legged on the ground with her chin in her hand, staring into the crackling flames with a contemplative scowl on her face. Soon enough, an all-too familiar raspy voice catches her attention.

"Oh boy, who's on your shit-list now?" jokes John as he playfully tugs on the few wisps of hair that hang from her loose bun and dance along the nape of her neck. He slowly lowers himself to sit next to her, leaning out onto his knees with his elbows. "I'm hopin' it ain't me." He bumps into her shoulder with a smirk.

She snorts in his direction. "No, for once, it's not you. It's that idiot brother of yours."

John listens to Abigail vent her frustrations out to him as she goes on for a good twenty minutes. (Honestly, it feels good to him to not be the target of her ire for a change.) And after hearing of what is going on between you two, John decides to talk to Arthur about it. He actually agrees with his woman for once and wants to see if he can nudge Arthur in the right direction. You and John may have gotten off on the wrong foot when you first came to join the gang, but since then, he has come to be quite fond of you. He appreciates the friendship you have provided for Abigail, and you’ve helped him to create a better relationship with her. And, as much as he and Arthur bicker, John has to admit that you are good for Arthur. Plus, if he doesn't talk to Arthur, Abigail certainly will. And John will try to spare his brother her wrath that he knows all too well himself.

John finds Arthur over by the horses, getting them fed and watered for the night before everyone settles in by the fires. He saunters over to Arthur, no announcement, no greeting. He just blurts out “Are you crazy?!"

Arthur halts in his movements, looking over his shoulder and giving John a confused look. "What in the hell are you goin' on about now, Marston?"

"You have a woman like (Y/N) throwing herself at you and you say 'no'?! Jesus, I don’t ever want to hear you talk about how stupid I am!” John plants his hands on his narrow hips as he scolds the man in front of him. Arthur just gives him another confused look. "Abigail told me," replies John. "Apparently (Y/N) is all upset and was talking to Abigail about it."

Arthur rolls his eyes to the sky. "Shit..."

"And before you get all mad at (Y/N) for blabbin', Abigail had to drag it out of her," John says quickly. "She was wonderin' why (Y/N)'s been actin' funny the last few days. "

"Oh..." Arthur sighs. He tosses the horse brush that is in his hand into the bucket at his feet and shoves his fingertips into his eye sockets in frustration. Great. Now the whole damn camp is going to know his business. "It ain’t that easy, Marston." He offers John his feeble excuse with a dismissive wave of his arm towards his brother.

John rolls his eyes in exasperation. "Well, what’s so damn hard about it, Arthur? She likes you, you like her - and don't tell me that you don't!" he quickly points his finger at Arthur before the man can even deny it. "It don’t get much easier than that!"

"What if..." Arthur's hand waves haplessly in the air, his eyes scattering across the camp, as he tries to find the words. "What if I get her killed? Huh?" A long, depressed sigh escapes his chest as he turns to lean his burly arms out over top of Buck's backside as he thinks. "Or, what if she decides that she really doesn't like me after all?" His chin turns back over his shoulder to meet John's questioning gaze again. "What then?"

"Well, that's a real possibility. I mean, I've known you for years and I still don't like you," John snickers.

"Don't be an ass," Arthur snaps back.

John proudly places his hand over his chest. "I can honestly say that for once, between the two of us, Arthur, I am not the ass in this situation here."

“She deserves better than the likes of me,” Arthur continues, flipping his hand about wildly again to indicate himself and the camp. And as he hears his own words hanging in the air, Arthur knows he's trying to convince himself more than John right now. Deep down, he's desperately trying to justify the huge mistake he knows that he is making.

“Well, that goes without saying." John walks a few steps closer to Arthur, casually patting Buck's hind quarters as he speaks. "But I say, if you really want (Y/N) to be happy, then just give her what she wants. And for whatever reason, that’s you, jack-ass." He looks his brother in the eye, an impish grin on his thin lips. "(Y/N) is not dumb, Arthur. Did you ever stop to think that if someone like her fancies you, then you can’t be all that bad?”

Arthur thinks on this for a moment, stunned by this idea. He's never considered it from that perspective. His vividly colored eyes dart around as the notion rolls about in his head. "You know, Marston, you may not be all that dense, after all."

John simply snorts in response. "Well, ain't that hard, considering the company that I keep."

"I can't believe I'm taking relationship advice from you of all people," Arthur mutters, as he draws his hand over his face in disbelief.

"I know, right?" John chuckles a bit as he slaps Arthur on the shoulder.

To Arthur's surprise, his talk with John actually makes him feel better. He decides to try to make things up to you, or to at least make the focused effort to go back to how things were before. But to his dismay, you resist his advances. You are trying to keep your distance from him at this point, avoiding him whenever you can, as you find that it's just too painful to be around him. You eat your meals in your tent, and you keep to yourself when you work. You are not unkind or rude to Arthur, using only simple one word answers when you have to talk to him. But there is no fondness or attachment with him as usual. The familiarity between the two of you has dwindled like a dying candle flame about to be swallowed in a bed of used wax.

You strategically place yourself the furthest away from Arthur whenever he is in camp, volunteering for any task that Ms. Grimshaw has available to keep yourself preoccupied. Grimshaw hates it when you girls are interrupted from whatever work she has dictated you to do. So you will use her iron-will to your advantage to shield yourself from Arthur if you can.

Aside from washing laundry all day, you run errands with Mr. Pearson, run scouts with Javier, and try to get out of camp altogether whenever you have the opportunity. You jump at the chance to go hunting with Charles any time he offers. In fact, you have come to rely on Charles quite a bit lately. Charles naturally has a calming presence about him and he has become a great comfort to you. He himself is also a bit of a loner and outsider in this group, and you have found a kindred spirit in him.

At one point you are in your tent cleaning up and turn to head out to find Charles. You are not paying attention, looking down as you shake out the jacket in your hands and you run right into Arthur, almost bouncing off of his chest. He has come to try to talk to you yet again, and corners you by your tent. He is standing in front of you with his thumbs tucked into his gun belt, as he usually does, but this time he has a slight scowl set upon his face, his eyes dark. If you didn't know him better, you'd be intimidated by his demeanor standing there.

You gasp, jumping slightly and placing a hand over your chest in surprise. "Jesus, Arthur! You scared the hell out of me!"

“Figured I had to sneak up on you lest you run away from me again," he retorts, his voice carrying a tinge of annoyance to it. "What, are you trying to make me jealous by hangin' 'round with other men, now?”

You halt at his accusation, your face twisting up. "Excuse me?"

“You’ve been hangin' 'round with Charles quite a bit lately." His eyes level at you with a cold and mirthless stare.

"Have I?" Your reply is sarcastically innocent. You do not care for his insinuation in the slightest, and now it is you who is getting annoyed.

"Yeah, you have," Arthur pushes. "You won’t go out hunting with me, but you’ll go out with him.” He juts his thumb over his shoulder back at the camp behind him.

“I like Charles," you counter harshly. "He doesn’t talk much. I don’t have to worry about stupid shit coming out of his mouth.”

"Is that a fact?" His slow drawl is clearly an indication that he is not amused at your statement.

"Yes, it is. Is that a problem, Arthur?" You are not about to back down from him, no matter how much he towers over you as he steps even closer to you now while you glare up at him bitterly.

He waves his hand at you in irritation. "No. No, you do whatever you damn well want.” You can tell he is getting riled up now, as his eyes are flashing, and you can see his jaw clenching, even under his beard.

“Good, because I plan to," you snap at him again. "Besides, what am I supposed to do?" You toss the jacket that you are still holding onto your cot behind you before crossing your arms defensively over your chest. "And where’s this coming from, anyway, Arthur? I thought you wanted no part of that?"

He just stares at you, not really sure what to say to that. The argument is right there on the tip of his tongue, ready to strike its ugly head. He wants nothing more than to grab you and hold you tight, never letting you go; needing you to just stop lashing out at him for a damn second. But he can’t. He just…can’t. So instead, he stands there like a mountain; silent and not moving.

Anger begins to build in your chest, causing the brows above your beautiful eyes to crease. You can feel your heart beating painfully faster as the adrenaline courses through your body. And you can sense that your mouth is about to pour forth words that will be an unstoppable waterfall.

"First there’s the glances, the lingering touches, taking me out places, talking to me all the time," you start rambling, your composure quickly crumbling now that you are speaking to him again. "Then all of a sudden acting like I'm nothing to you-“

"Hey! I never said you were nothing to me!” he interrupts with a shout as he takes another step closer to you.

"- only to be jealous, now?!" Your voice squeaks as it hits the louder decibel.

“I ain’t jealous and I never promised you anything! You’re the one who made it complicated!” He points his large finger in your face, mere inches from your nose.

"Right, my error. My miserable error for giving a damn about you!" Your arms shoot straight at your sides as your voice continues to rise in anger, your eyes dangerously brimmed with tears that threaten to spill forth and betray your hard front.

You lower your head to your hands, driving your fingertips into your temples, desperately trying to keep your brain from exploding. "What are you doing, Arthur?"

"What?" he snaps defensively.

"What are you doing to me?!," you holler at him, lifting your face back to his. "You want me here, but you don’t want me here. You don’t want me, but you don’t want me with anyone else, either. You can’t keep stringing me like that! What is it that you want, Arthur?!"

"I don’t know what the hell I want!” His voice roars into your face, standing nose to nose with you now, so close that you can feel his hot breath across your cheeks.

"Well that’s obvious," you say flatly.

And as you fearlessly hold his stony gaze, it occurs to you that you're going to have to let this fantasy of yours die. You've tried so hard to make him see what’s in himself, and to see you; to get him to see that your heart is here for his taking and, more importantly, that he deserves to be loved in return.

But he’s a broken outlaw. And you're going to have to come to terms with that and let him go. The reality of this idea painfully nets over your heart as your gaze flutters before it drops from his angry eyes to his heaving chest and finally falls to the ground to his dusty boots.

Defeated, your shoulders drop. You shake your head as you turn away from him, not able to look upon his face anymore. "Just…get the hell out of my tent, Arthur." Your tone is quiet and broken now after all of the yelling. He's done it. He's won the argument and finally gotten what he's been pushing you for. You're done with your childish fantasy of making this fearsome outlaw a partner to you.

Arthur stands there staring at your back for a moment, the corner of his eyes stinging slightly. Rage electrifies and radiates throughout his whole body as his hands flex in and out of a fist at his sides. Finally, he turns and storms away from your tent. "God damn it!" he mutters harshly to himself. Why is it that everything he touches turns to shit?

From where he's been watching this whole exchange, Hosea quickly stands up from his chair, alarmed, as he watches Arthur stalk angrily away from your tent.

“Arthur!” Hosea calls out, his face clearly laced with concern. For an "angry Arthur" is a "dangerous Arthur" for sure.

"Not now, Hosea!" Arthur snaps, waving the older man off without so much as a glance in his direction as he stomps off.

Arthur is so infuriated right now, he's not really sure what to do. He's irrationally upset with you. He keeps replaying that day at the overlook when you revealed your affection for him. Why in the hell did you have to do that? It ruined everything. The two of you could have remained friends, and if he longed for you, he could just do it secretly as he's been doing since he's met you. But no, you had to push the idea and now the two of you are either hollering at each other or not speaking altogether. Why did you have to come here and be so nice to him? Why did you have to make him fall for you?

But he soon realizes how foolish he is being, chastising himself. It's not your fault, but his. He never should have let it get this far. He should have kept his distance from you from the start. He should have known he’d be weak-willed and defenseless against someone as good and pure as you.

Arthur stalks back to his tent and as he does, he looks up and sees Charles sitting outside of his own tent. He's sitting upon a log as a makeshift chair, his attention acutely fixated on the materials in his hands. Looks like he is making more arrows. 'Probably so he can take (Y/N) out hunting again,' Arthur sourly thinks to himself.

Arthur walks over to Charles, knowing he probably shouldn't right now. All of his reasoning argues that he should just stop and try to calm down. But unfortunately, Arthur is not thinking rationally at the moment. Charles casually lifts his head as he sees Arthur approach out of the corner of his eye.

"Arthur." Charles greets him with an air of caution, as he can see the tension on his friend's face. He could hear you and Arthur arguing just a few minutes ago. From where his tent is situated in camp, it is farther from yours, so Charles couldn't hear exactly what was said, only the volume and tone with which it was.

"Charles," Arthur coolly greets in return. "What you workin' on there? Hmm? More arrows to go huntin' with?" He cocks his head to the side as he coldly stares down at the items in Charles' hands.

"Yeah. I promised (Y/N) the next time we go out that we'd work on her bow skills. Been working with her on tracking lately. But she really wants to get a grasp on working with a bow."

Arthur looks on with disdain as Charles’ large fingertips delicately wrap the end of the arrow shaft with feathers.

"Oh, I'm sure she wants to get a grasp on somethin', alright," Arthur retorts bitterly.

Arthur's tone makes Charles hesitate. He looks back to Arthur and measures his words carefully. "You got a problem with me taking (Y/N) out hunting, Arthur?"

"Maybe I do."

Charles is not a violent man by nature, but he will stand his ground if need be. He has no designs to "steal" you from Arthur, if that is what the other man thinks he's doing. He has no intention of fighting over you, either. But Charles will fight for you if he has to. He puts the shafts and string in his lap down on the ground next to his feet. Arthur doesn’t move a muscle of his large frame as Charles slowly stands to square off and meets him at eye level.

“If you got a problem with (Y/N), Arthur, that’s between you two. She and I are only hunting together. That's all." Charles's voice is low and even. He doesn't want to provoke his good friend, but he also resents his tone. "Apparently, she's looking to get out of camp a lot lately, looking for some peace and quiet. And, she's a good shot, damn good shot, in fact. So she is welcome to hunt with me whenever she wants." Charles pauses, standing a little straighter, pushing his chest out a bit. "Besides, she’s my friend, too.”

Arthur cocks a knowing eyebrow at Charles. “Yeah, and we all know how friendships can go.”

“Mind yourself, Arthur,” warns Charles, pointing his finger at his chest and giving his friend a look that is more of disappointment than anger, before he sits back down and calmly resumes his work. He understands Arthur's frustration, and understands that he is not the target of the outlaw's anger. He also knows Arthur is better than this pettiness, too. But more importantly, Charles won't stand for anyone speaking badly about you, regardless of who it is.

Arthur says nothing else, realizing that he is not getting anywhere with Charles. So to avoid ruining yet another relationship that he has come to rely on, Arthur smartly buttons his lips and walks off to sulk in the solitude of his tent.

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

This stunning image comes from @regwishesshehadmagic

The morning following your fight, Arthur is awake before the sun. He watches with bleary eyes as the crisp morning sun begins to fracture into his tent between the opening in the canvas. Not being able to sleep all night, he drags himself to sit up on his cot with a groan, rubbing his hands through his disheveled hair. Despite his overwhelming fatigue, he is so restless, he can’t stand it. Feeling as if he is on the edge of going crazy, Arthur quickly gets himself together and rides out of camp before anyone is aware. He doesn't know where he is going or what he is going to do, only that he has to get out of this godforsaken camp and clear his head.

He spends the next two days out in the woods, thinking about what to do and what he really wants. He is being torn apart by this rift between you and him, torn between what he wants and what he feels is right. Arthur sits among the trees, silent as a statue, while the forest life goes on about its merry way around him, and rolls his doubts and misgivings over and over again in his mind, along with what Micah had said. Torturing himself with angry and hurtful words, the man blames himself for allowing himself to be in this situation to begin with.

As the long day draws out into the night, Arthur still sits, legs stretched out before him as the small campfire illuminates the now-encroaching darkness. And of course, Arthur also thinks of you. He takes his journal out and reads over the entries. Refreshing his memory with thoughts of you, he relives the moments you've spent together. Each passage brings forth a plethora of emotions, each stronger than the last. Your image is scattered throughout the worn pages in various forms, from the details of your eyes and lips, to the graceful curve of your neck, visible when your hair is pulled up, to a full-body likeness of you standing with Jack on your hip. His rough fingers trace over the lines of your face as he sits in deep thought, a small smile involuntarily blooming across his features.

But most importantly, he thinks about what you said at the overlook. His eyes relax and stare unfocused into the dancing flames of his fire, and Arthur's chest tightens as he vividly remembers the look on your face when he declined your affections and sat there and did nothing as he watched your eyes rim with tears. Your voice still booms in his ears: “What is it that you want, Arthur?!”

Arthur’s fingers move as if combing through mud as he pulls a cigarette out of his satchel and lights it. Pulling a long drag off of the end, he lets out an extended and tired sigh. What does he want?

He knows he’s lonely. He hates to admit it, but he is. Cold nights and empty beds; no warm arms waiting to welcome him home. But the fear of exposing himself to love again, only for it to end horribly, is terrifying, even to a fearsome, hard outlaw. Losing Eliza and Issac shattered his heart. And Mary’s rejection has left him bitter and angry. Over the years, Arthur has channeled his hurt and pain into an armor until he has become someone else altogether; a shell of what he once was, and he wasn’t all that great to begin with. He’s no good, like a rotten apple that’s fallen from the tree that no one wants to take. Arthur doesn’t think he has it in him to do it all over again. And now, he is in a position to be stuck between living his life and running from it.

But you are different. You are not as young and naive as Eliza was. Nor are you as self-serving as Mary. Though he cared for and loved both women, Arthur knew, even then, that he was doomed, for these women did not fit with his family and lifestyle. But with you, that burden is removed. Not only do you accept the gang, but you have embraced it. And you are someone who cares for him, not for what he does, but for who he is.

You are delightfully chaotic; quite the beautiful mess, in fact. Arthur finds you to be wonderfully out of place in his life, but maybe that is as it should be. Kind of like when you see the moon during the daytime. You’ve turned your broken into beautiful and made your strength look invincible. You have never asked Arthur for the moon and the stars, but only to lay in the damp grass at night with you to watch them. And to Arthur, this means more than anything. The way your nose wrinkles when you smile. The way your eyes light up when you see him. The way you snort sometimes when you laugh. The way you get impassioned when you speak of something that touches you. Even the way you walk away from the fire at night to head back to your tent. Arthur wants it all.

And it is then that Arthur is hit with a profound realization. His eyes open wide and the air is sucked out of his chest as if he's been thrown from his horse. Arthur loves you. He loves you. And, more importantly, he wants the two of you to be together. More than anything. But can he do that?

He knows it's not the safe path, and probably not what is best for you. But John is right: if this is what you both really want, why not do it? He finally comprehends that he’s spent so much time being strong for everyone else that he’s never allowed himself to be happy. Maybe that needs to change now.

With resolve in his veins, Arthur quickly packs up his makeshift camp, literally tripping over himself in his haste, and heads back home.

As Arthur comes down the path back to camp, his eyes immediately notice that your horse is gone. Disappointed, but not discouraged, Arthur thinks about his next move and decides to ask Abigail and Mary-Beth what to do. If he is going to fix this great divide between you and him, he is going to need help to do it, as so far, he clearly doesn't know what he's doing on his own. He needs to bring "the big guns," as they say. And fortunately, Arthur finds the very two people he needs sitting together at a table.

“Can I talk to you ladies a minute?" Arthur calls over as he walks with purpose in their direction with a very determined look upon his face. The two women halt their conversation upon hearing him, curious about what he could want.

Mary-Beth smiles up at him as Arthur gets close to their table. "Sure, Arthur. What do you need?" He sits down next to Mary-Beth, pausing to organize his thoughts before he just comes right out with it.

"(Y/N) told me how she feels about me. You know, that she likes me an’ all. And like a fool, I pushed her away.” His eyes dart back and forth from both of their faces before shamefully down at his own hands that fidget on the table. "I guess I underestimated how I’d feel about that."

Abigail sits up straighter as a huge smile begins to cross her lips. “Are you saying that you want to be with her then, Arthur?”

"The question was never if I wanted to," he says to Abigail. "But she won’t even speak to me now." He holds his hands up in defeat before letting them fall haplessly onto the table, and looks to the women with a pathetic face, pleading for help. "Every time I try, we end up yellin’, and I make it worse."

Abigail gives him a scolding look. "Well, Arthur, you wounded her pride and broke her heart. What do you expect?"

“Maybe you need a grand gesture?” suggests Mary-Beth, gesturing with her arms in emphasis. Her eyes go wide with excitement, eager to help usher this new relationship into existence. "(Y/N) can be stubborn, for sure. So if she won't talk to you, Arthur, then make her listen. Maybe you need to show her how you feel?"

“If you’re going to do something, you may need to do it soon, Arthur," warns Abigail, tapping her finger on the table. She goes on to tell him that you feel as if you don’t belong and have been distancing yourself from the whole camp.

"She's up and out before anyone else, and when she is in camp, she rarely leaves her tent now." This worries Arthur because what if you decide to leave? Then what? He’s scared to lose you even though you're not his to lose.

Arthur sits quietly, taking in all of this information. He tries to think of what he could possibly do while Abigail and Mary-Beth both stare at him, waiting for the answer. "Thank you, girls. I appreciate your help," he finally says. "Do me a favor though, and don't mention this to (Y/N), please? I don't know what I'm doin' just yet, and I don't want to disappoint her even more than I already have."

"Sure, Arthur. Whatever you say," Mary-Beth answers with a hopeful grin. “Good Luck!”

He then looks to Abigail, who just stares back obstinately.

"Abigail?"

"Ugh, OK fine! I won't say anything. But you had better do something, Arthur Morgan!" as she points her finger at him. "Or so help me-"

"OK, OK!" he holds up his hands in surrender as he stands up. "I don't need two women in camp after me. I'll take care of it." And he smiles to himself as he heads to his tent to plan.

After mulling over his options, Arthur decides to ride back to Rosewood where you came from to see if he can find anything of your father's there. If you are missing your family, as Abigail told him, Arthur is hoping to bring back some sort of remembrance of him for you. After a quick check-in with Dutch, Arthur immediately heads out of camp and on his way to Rosewood. It's a few days' ride, so he needs to get going so he can hurry and get back.

Meanwhile, back at camp, you notice Arthur has been gone intermittently since your revelation, and now he’s been gone for several days after your fight. Things seem to be going from bad to worse. Figuring he’s outright avoiding the camp itself because of you, you don’t know what to do. This is his family, his people. And if you're the one making things difficult, then you will need to be the one to leave. So, you start coming to terms with the idea that you will need to find a new place of your own.

This evening, as the sun starts to crawl back behind the mountains, you find yourself sitting outside of camp by yourself. You stare out into the watercolor-painted sky, thinking over where you'll go and what you'll do. The idea of leaving is terrifying. You'll have to start over yet again. You'll miss everyone in this camp who you have come to love so dearly. You’ll surely miss Abigail and Jack. And of course Hosea. You'll miss Arthur.

You draw your knees up closer to your chin and wrap your arms around them as an overwhelming fatigue cascades over you. You are so lost in your own thoughts that you do not hear footsteps behind you.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing out here?” You hear Charles' soft voice cut through your thoughts. When he didn't see you at dinner yet again tonight, he decided to come to check on you.

You hastily wipe away a few tears from your cheeks and try to smile for him. “Hi, Charles. What can I do for you?”

He cautiously approaches you as one does a wounded animal. His brows knit in concern when, even in the setting sunlight, he can see the red-rim of your wet eyes. "Arthur ain’t gonna be too happy if he finds out we’ve let you wander off by your lonesome.”

You scoff at that. "Oh, I highly doubt that," giving Charles a sad smile. "Although Arthur is the expert on what I shouldn’t be doing, it seems." You turn your attention back to the horizon, watching the last flecks of golden sunlight begin to fade for the day. "Besides, he won't have to worry about it much longer."

Charles freezes before nervously shifting his weight from hip to hip. "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh…nothing. Forget I said anything." You wave off the comment as if it is nothing more than a rambling thought, but you still avoid his dark eyes.

"(Y/N)…you OK?"

"Yeah…sure. I’ll be fine"

Charles steps closer to you, studying your face and countenance, not believing you for a second. "Listen (Y/N), I know you and Arthur are in a weird place right now-“

"Oh, Charles, I really don’t want to talk about Arthur. Really, I don’t,” you insist, shaking your head vehemently. Your eyes have a glassy sheen that causes Charles to cringe in pity for you.

“OK,” He’s silent for a moment. "Can I do anything for you?" His hand tentatively reaches out to you, not really sure what, if anything, he can do.

"No, sweet man, I’m OK. Thank you." You try to give him another smile for reassurance. "Go ahead back to everyone. I won't be out here much longer. I promise."

Charles hesitates a bit longer, before turning to head back to camp. "All right, if you're sure you're OK, then."

When you see him disappear amongst the tents again, you turn back to the horizon. The sun is gone now. The light has been snuffed out, leaving a cold and lonely atmosphere in its wake. The first few pin-pricks of starlight begin to emerge in the purple sky. You sigh deeply as your shoulders drop even more and your eyelids fall like stones.

"I'm not sure of anything anymore," you whisper to yourself.

A/N: *Oh my goodness, half-way there! More drama to come, but I promise, we’re getting there, and it’s definitely worth it (I hope anyway)

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x f!reader #rdr2 #Read Dead Redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader angst

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shygirl4991 · 3 months

Text

Next Step With You Prologue High Rollers of affection

Cover mad by @lizaluvsthis do not repost! A Reboot of the next step! Next chapter Summary: SMG4 and SMG3 relationship changed after realizing their feelings in WOTFI 2023, now together the pair can take the next step together. That is until a strange gift arrives on SMG3's birthday making him face his demons from his past.

Tags: Fluff, Boyfriends, Love Confession, Watch Wotfi 2023 before reading, first love, mention of igloo

SMG4 was giggling as he played club penguin, it was surprisingly a normal day given yesterday SMG3 snap after they failed to stop Mario from taking his notebook. Knowing Mario as long as he has there was no way he was keeping the notebook, given how peaceful it is, the notebook should be back in Three’s hand in no time. He thought too soon as the door to his room flys open to reveal a panicked SMG3 “SMG4!! MARIO STOLE MY NOTEBOOK! I NEED YOUR HELP GETTING IT BACK!” he starts to wave a photo of the notebook at him.

He was facing Three in his computer chair, annoyed and surprised at the fact that Mario kept his notebook “Pfft It's just a notebook, get a new one.” Four wasn’t sure what the big deal was. He knew it meant a lot to the man but losing the notebook doesn't mean the world will end. Three walks in the room visibly nervous “It’s not just any notebook it's got secrets,” he drops to his knees making Four get nervous “Including…” he looks around “Secrets about you and me, and certain events in an igloo.” SMG4's face goes pale as the hidden memory unlocks. The need for food, how they both needed warmth though Three was stubborn and rather die there then cuddle him for warmth. They both thought they were going to die, with this thought in four’s mind he looks at SMG3 he did find him attractive so why the hell not. The event that follows haunts the pair as they agreed to never talk about it again. Remember everything he screams jumping out of the chair “WE GOTTA GET THAT NOTEBOOK!”

After that he runs out of the room to ask a casual question to Melony leaving Three to nervously sit in the room, seeing the man return he runs up to him grabbing his overall straps “What did you learn?” Slowly pulling away from the man he goes to sit on his computer chair “So Melony told me she noticed Mario taking something to some billionaire tycoon which has to be the notebook,” he points to a photo that Melony took of the location “and they both are inside this brand new casino. Its exact location? The CEO office.” SMG4 starts to type something on his computer, using the software Melony used to hack the cameras he connects to one in a safe showing them drilling into the notebook. He was warned that the place was tough to hack and not to stay on the cameras for long, shame they can't hack the cameras down would have made this situation easier. Seeing the drills on his notebook Three chuckles “That’s right, that idiot Mario still needs my secret key to open it!”

Four nods wondering what the key could be as he starts to type in the program “Well..it's not just Mario that's behind this…he’s too stupid to do this on his own.” as he switches cameras Three could only watch in shock that Marty was the one truly behind everything. Why a living cardboard meme that Mario made wants SMG3 notebook Four had no idea, given how badly it wants in the notebook it has to be something huge. “MARTY!? THAT PIECE OF CARDBOARD CRAP IS BEHIND THIS?!?” glaring at the screen he takes out dynamite from his pocket. He throws the dynamite in the air and catches it with a smirk causing SMG4 to smile without noticing “Lets just break in and take it then!” after that he starts to run off only for Four to grab him “Slooow down cowboy.” he throws Three down getting a growl from the man. SMG4 then points to another camera view on the screen “We can't just go in there guns blazing. This place is heavily guarded, I'm talking about state of the art security that will blow our asses up the moment we get detected.” he wanted this notebook back fast but they had to play their cards right. SMG3 slowly blinks looking at the picture on the screen “SMG4..this is just a picture of Mario.”

Four nods pointing at Three “Exactly! So we’ll need to be sneaky and cunning about this! Who knows what that stupid fat Italian has up his sleeve.” After hours planning and Three fighting about Fours idea on letting his subscribers pick how to get his notebook back it was the day of the heist. SMG3 smirks, fixing his fedora and tie “Alright looking fresh!” he winks and snaps his fingers making Fours stomach flip. Something that has been happening ever since the pair became friends, he wasn't sure why it only happens around Three after days of thinking on the subject he assumed it had to do with their link and lived on ignoring the way his heart would race when being near the man. With their spy rizz outfits on they walk to the casino, SMG4 was smiling and waving at the crowd not noticing the loving look Three was giving him. You could ask Three why he was looking at the man like that and you can bet his answer will have nothing to do with how charming he found the man's outfit to be. They walk into the casino with no issue, SMG3 smiles getting ready for the mission only to hear someone humming. Turning he sees SMG4 sneaking as he hums the theme from Mission Impossible, letting out a sigh as he walks up to the man smacking him “Dude, stop it.” four frowns and looks down agreeing to stop.

“Hey!” the pair jumps hearing Mario’s yelling, they turn to see Mario checking everyone coming into the casino. He then pointed at his brother demanding answers, the pair watch as Mario lets Luigi in only to burn him alive for letting out a cough. They slowly turn to each other, nervous about what they just saw before Three shakes himself out of it, they had a mission no time to get cold feet. “Alright, what the hell are we doing here?” hearing Three’s voice, Four looks at their watch to see what was voted. They both nod at the result and put on clown masks getting ready to scare the Italian man, they sneak up to him and start making loud sounds to scare him. Mario slams the table making the men nervous as he gets closer to them as he checks them both out then focuses on SMG4 “Your color schemes look awfully familiar..”

The more Mario stares at Four the more anxious Three feels, then he sees Mario start to drool and reach out to Four. He wasn't sure what was going on with Mario but he was sure it was something stupid and he had to stop him “THATS IT WERE WALKING THROUGH!” he pushes Four causing the mask to fall off. They all stay silent staring at the mask before SMG4 turns to mario “uhh i can explain..” Mario screams, surprising the men “AHHHH A SCARY CLOWN!” SMG4 frowns seeing his best friend run from him, Three throws the mask off “Hey works for me, lets go.” he was going to walk away before four grabbed him “Am…am i really that horrific to look at?” Three felt himself blush as four looked up at him with puppy eyes. He looks away sighing “You look like how you always did, a shit head with a huge ego now can we go?” Four pouts at the comment before moving forward.

They stand in the main lobby looking around to see the cameras in the lobby. “Great…Mario must be surveilling the place intensely, we have to shut off those security cameras.” they nod as they look at the watch. Their eyes go wide seeing the vote that won “Uh heh maybe the watch counted the votes wrong,” Four smacks the watch hoping the choice will change. SMG3 sighs seeing the panic four was going through, he looks around and smirks as he walks over to a booth asking for a song change for the lobby. Four sighs finally admitting defeat then starts to think “Do a sexy dance? How do I even pull that off? Is there a meme dance that could come off as sexy?”

That's when Three grabs his arm pulling him close to his body, SMG4's face turns completely red seeing how close they are “T-Three?” the man moves Fours hand on his shoulder while holding the other one “Your dumb subscribers did the vote lets get this over with so we can get my notebook, follow my lead!” He then placed his hand on Fours lower back causing the man’s heart to start racing. SMG3 makes sure that Four was pressed against his body before moving, Four did his best to follow the steps that the other man was doing.Then tango music started to play making Fours eyes go wide “How is the tango a sexy dance?” SMG3 kept moving to the music then smirks “That idiot seems to get off with us being gay, so if he catches us this close dancing he will freak and knowing that idiot he will end up breaking something!” Four nods understanding where his partner was coming from. As they dance, Three picks up speed as Four attempts to keep focus on his steps, his mind starting to fill with strange thoughts. As he dances his eyes slowly drop to SMG3 lips those thoughts start to play louder in his head, he wants to kiss the man right there and the thought causes him to miss a step.

Mario catches the dance on the camera and zooms in his eyes pops out as he sees the pair, he knows he should have hit the alarm but the close dance made him want to cheer the two in hopes they finally get together. Seeing Four missing the step Three takes the chance to do a final hit on Mario, dipping SMG4 he leans in close, pressing his forehead against the other man making it look like they kissed on the cameras. Four held his breath at how close they were, while Three was looking into Four’s eyes. A strange feeling hit them both, they were on a mission they had to get the notebook and yet Four couldn't help slowly moving his hand to the back of Three’s head. It was the perfect moment to kiss each other, something they both wanted at the moment, only to be broken out of the spell hearing Mario scream in excitement and blowing up all the cameras. SMG3 lifted up Four and smiled seeing that the mission was a success “Great! Let's go!” SMG4 watches Three walks ahead acting as nothing has happened, was he the only one that felt that spark. He follows Three, his thoughts filled with what happened. He takes out his phone and starts to search his feelings. Distracted Four agreed to a plan that Three made without knowing what it was about, his eyes widened as he read what the results showed “A deep romantic connection..me and Three?” he looks up to realize he missed what he had to do and Three was now being taken by Swag and Chris. Four panicked and was going to save Three only to feel something heavy hit him, knocking him out cold.

He opens his eyes and look around the room confused only to see Mario pop up in front of him “Hello mother fucker!” seeing the plumber he starts to scream which woke up Three making him also scream. He turns to see Three was tied down, panic starts to build up inside of him thinking of what they could do to the man. Mario chuckles as he approaches Three “Mario?? LET US GO DUDE!” He was hoping that his call out would bring the man back to him. Sadly the man he is growing a romantic attraction to was SMG3 “AND GIVE ME MY NOTEBOOK BACK YOU ASS!” Mario smirks at the tied up Three making Four wiggle against his restraints. “I’ve been waiting for this! We finally got them, didn't we Marty?” Marty sighs and agrees with Mario, he was annoyed that the plumber let them get away once and was lucky the spies got distracted. Mario turns his attention back to Three “Just give us the key to your notebook SMG3! We’ve tried everything but it wont open yet!” This was all Four's fault for searching on his phone, the guilt was eating him as he watched the scene play out in front of him. Three gives Four a soft look before gaining back his snarky personality “NEVER! I’ll never tell!”

Mario lets out a chilling laugh that caught both men's attention, he takes his phone out smirking, he hits play and starts showing cringe memes to Three. Their avatar knows them too well and had the perfect videos to make Three cringe, the more videos played the more he saw the man break to the point he started shedding tears “NOOO! HE CANT TAKE IT! LET HIM BE!” Mario grins as he pulls up one last video the moment SMG3 sees it he screams. Four’s eyes flicker yellow as he looks around the room “Come on four think of something worse than what SMG3 is dealing with right now!” he focuses on all the cringe he has seen on the internet till he shrivels up from it. Now free from the rope he runs towards Mario he can hear Three about to break “Hey ass!” catching Mario’s attention he throws Eggdog out, the pup attacks the plumber while he runs to untie Three. The moment he unties Three he starts to shout “IM FREE! IM FREE!” rolling his eyes he grabs the man pulling him off the table to run out of the room with Eggdog following.

As they leave room Three turns shaking Four “WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU!?” Four frowns looking down, he starts to play with the button of his vest. “I was feeling strange so…i wanted to look up what was going on because it was distracting.” SMG3 lets four go and sighs giving him a quick look up and down before nodding “you seem fine now, just we are a team talk to me.” He didn't know what to do, Three was rarely this soft and now knowing the strange emotion he has been ignoring is he could feel his heart racing. Taking a deep breath he grabs Three's hand “If my viewers make the choices that land us in green, I have something I need to tell you.” They looked in each other's eyes, seeing how serious four looked the man nodded before they moved forward.

The pair were losing it after being chased by Mario and ending up in a game show forcing them to watch what happened to them in the igloo. After that the pair found Depresso and used him as a distraction to get ready to fight the plumber in which Three was surprised to see Four was good at fighting the avatar out without breaking a sweat. Now they opened the door and were standing across the safe with their prize. Three was going to walk only to be stopped by Four, he then pulls out baby powder and blows it revealing lasers in the room. “Yep, just as I expected! These lasers will probably explode if we touch them.” SMG3 looked at the bottle then back at Four “Why do you have baby powder?” SMG4 sighs “I have a sensitive ass!” with awkward nods they both turn to focus on the lasers. SMG4, seeing the results, smirks “Watch this!” SMG3 watched in awe as he watched the meme guardian front flip, avoiding all the lasers and making it to the other side. He hits the button and winks at his crush making Threes face red “What are you waiting for we got a notebook to save!”

That moment SMG3 wished he had his notebook to doodle the moment he saw, though he was sure those flips and wink will haunt his mind all day. They cheer getting into the safe only to be stopped by Marty and Mario, together with their meme power they manage to put a stop to the pair and grab the notebook. After more attempts by Marty and Mario to stop them, the pair escape and win the day with their watches landing on green. Four smiles seeing how happy Three was, then he looks at the watch nervously knowing what he has to do soon. Hours later they announced to the subscribers that thanks to them they saved the notebook, Three was so happy to get it back he started to smooch the book making Four giggle. After teasing SMG3 about why he was building a new evil lair right next to his castle he lets out a small yawn, who knew doing a heist could take so much out of you. “Speaking of cafes…I’m dead tired.” he gives his partner a small smile “Lets have some coffee.” For the first time since they have known each other things felt peaceful, maybe it was them both being drained from the heist or maybe this whole event brought them closer together. He remembers back a few weeks ago how SMG1 and two told them they had to get along in order for their powers to get stronger, all that event did was give him work to tell the world how they two weren't together due them being caught holding hands thanks to Marios gum.

SMG3 perks up hearing his words “Now we’re talkin!” walking together they sit on a pile of wood waiting to become a part of SMG3 cafe, SMG4 smiles looking at the sunset as SMG3 starts doing their coffee. They smile at each other doing a small cheer as they clink their

cups together and drink, as SMG4 enjoys the warmth of the coffee he notices SMG3 writing in his notebook with a huge smile "What are you writing?" he knew he wasn't going to get an answer but it wasn't going to hurt him to ask you never know what mood SMG3 is in.

He smirks and turns away "I'll never tell!" SMG3 makes sure the other cant see the drawing he is doing of them both with cups of coffee.

With a giggle he nods "Don't worry i wont push it," as he looks back at the sunset his heart starts to beat faster. This would be the perfect moment wouldn't it? He had to admit the closer they got the harder it was for him to keep his feelings in check. When he hears the notebook close he decides now is the time with one last gulp of the coffee he turns to SMG3 "You know...this heist got me thinking,”

SMG3 sips his coffee and stares at his partner "What that we should be full time spies, cause i'm not a fan of the idea of your fans telling me how to live my life," SMG4 shakes his head with a small chuckle "No, nothing like that...just we make a good team don't we?"

He keeps staring at SMG4 feeling confused on what was going on with the man next to him, seeing this SMG4 sighs feeling himself blush. "You know...people ship us together...and uh with all that's happened to us i started to wonder...." he had no idea what he was doing. Every TV show he has seen made confessions look easy, even Axol made it look sweet and easy with the manga he was making before everything.

SMG3's eyes go wide as he also starts to blush "Why are you bringing this up all of a sudden, idiot!!"

SMG4 closes his eyes "WHAT IF WE MAKE IT CANON!?"

Everything was dead silent, he was nervous to open his eyes to see how SMG3 was looking at him. Finally he hears a whisper "you....what?" Slowly he opened his eyes to see a stun SMG3, his face was as red as his eyes, it almost made SMG4 giggle for how cute it was to see him like that. "I..well i like you i figured it out today when we were on the heist, so i was wondering if maybe we can try...the next step?"

SMG4 started to get worried he broke the man for how long it took for him to move again, he watches as SMG3 stares at the floor then his notebook. His heart sank, did the guardian not feel the same as him?

SMG3 gets up and stands in front of him "Fine, i guess i...i like you too! But don't let it get to your head...Baka!"

SMG4 lights up, standing up and hugging him, ignoring the heat on his face, Three hugged his boyfriend back. They separated and gave each other a small smile before Four spoke up “Need a place to crash till the cafe is done..you can stay with me till then.” SMG3 looks at the castle then his hand thinking about the graveyard, staying here they both could figure out this new step easier then him in another location “Yeah that could work..but can we keep this thing with us on the down low not sure i'm ready for the idiots to learn about us.” with a nod they both slowly reach for each other's hand and let out nervous giggles. Now holding hands the pair walk into the castle to move SMG3 in,Little did they know a shadow was watching them from a distance growling at what they just saw.

2/6/24 date written

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