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whygodohgodwhy · 2 years

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Conversation Prompt

“Here to gloat? I’ve been left to die in the gutter, with nowhere else to go. Have you come here to mock me? To watch me grovel for forgiveness and beg for help?”

“Nah. I’ve never been into that. Hideout is still where it always is. Your spot’s still there on the team if you want it. The others might want a little bit of grovelling though. Just a bit, you pissed them off, leaving like that.”

#writing prompt #writing prompts #quote prompt #conversation prompt #betrayal prompt #redemption prompt

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yeehawgust · 9 months

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Yeehawgust 2023: Wide Open Spaces

Howdy, folks, I hope you’ll saddle up and join us for Yeehawgust’s 5th year this August!

Yeehawgust features daily art prompts as well as alternative weekly prompts, for those of us who are a bit slower on the draw. Don’t draw at all? No problem! Submit any art at all, be it illustration, comics, writing, fanfiction, photography, embroidery, sculpture, music, or whatever other creative endeavors you might enjoy. All skill levels are welcome, and this can be a great opportunity to experiment with new styles and techniques.

Whether you love canonically western media like Red Dead Redemption and Fallout: New Vegas, or you’re looking for a chance to make a cowboy AU and put your blorbos in a Stetson and spurs, this is the month for you!

Tag your work with #Yeehawgust and follow along here on the Yeehawgust blog. If you include any external links or directly tag another Tumblr user in your post (which may impact search visibility), make sure to also tag this blog or contact the mod directly so your work will get reblogged!

Check out the “Reblogging Policy and Q&A” linked on the blog for more info about Yeehawgust. The event is also Yeehawgust on Twitter and YeehawgustPrompts over on Instagram, but Tumblr is our first home.

And remember, y’all: be rootin’, tootin’, shootin’, and most importantly, be kind.

#yeehawgust #yeehawgust 2023 #art prompts #writing prompts #western #red dead redemption #fallout new vegas #western au #cowboy #image description in alt text #plain text version of the list and instagram-friendly version of the prompt list to come in the following reblog

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nerdpoe · 23 days

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There's a small-time, just starting out villain staring the Flash down. The villain has an older dog in his arms.

Or he assumes this kid is a villain, seeing as he just stole that dog from the shelter that was literally right behind him.

"Kid," Flash starts, feeling a headache starting up, when another villain comes out from behind the first one.

This one is smaller, a girl, and clearly related to the first.

"Can I at least know why-"

Another one comes out, this one huge, and clearly the father. He has two older dogs in his arms.

"It's a kill shelter! They aren't getting adopted because they're older dogs!" The first villain, a teenage boy meta, explains. Shouts. Both.

"They're precious and cuddly!" The second one, the girl, says, holding up a geriatric and practically rabid Chihuahua.

"Everyone deserves a chance." The final one says, voice just shy of a growl.

Flash sighs.

"Do you have somewhere to put them?"

"Vlad Masters," they all answer with particularly vengeful grins.

Flash decides this must be another relative, and just opts to go pay for the dogs they're leaving with.

And also a bunch of other dogs, swearing to hold onto them until the trio can come back for the rest.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #phanfic #story prompt #Vlad ends up being a Dog Sanctuary #whether he likes it or not #(he actually does it cements his redemption arc)#it started out as a prank but Vlad took it seriously and now it's a Thing

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puppetmaster13u · 3 months

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Prompt 185

No one could get into contact with Constantine.

Now usually that wasn’t that big of a deal, the man constantly disappeared for a few days at a time doing something or other, but he’d been completely silent and unseen for months. Usually he’ll at least answer a call to tell them to fuck off or something.

And they really need his expertise and are getting incredibly worried for their grumpy team member. Yes he’s an asshole, but he’s their asshole, y’know? And he has a habit of getting into Situations (sure he also usually gets out of them, but what if he didn’t this time?!)

So they’re desperate. Kind of really desperate. Desperate enough to use the summoning sigil they found on his fridge. They’d checked it, multiple times, and it should summon the hellblazer.

“You’re not Constantine.” .

The white-haired teen in the circle yawned, stretching and blinking at them blandly with familiar blue eyes before sighing. “Actually I am,” he stuffed his hands into his hoodie as he looked down at the summoning circle. “Well, technically just one of the many Laughing Magicians currently in the Realms.”

He gave a grin, looking more amused than annoyed. “Pretty much every one of us is in the Realms right now for family reunion lol. (Did he just say lol out loud??) So like, you’re gonna have to specify which of us you’re tryin’ to summon. Honestly perfect timing for me thanks, the fruitloop keeps flirting with John and it’s horrific so.”

… That was probably their John, wasn’t it…

#dcxdp #dpxdc #prompts #The Constantine Family exists for fucking over entities & manipulating luck #They adore this scrappy halfa who is doing the same with twice the feral #Danny: Yeah I’m like the changeling child that ended up in the middle of them and they just kept me for the laughs lol #Danny: I’m not allowed to join in the drinking competitions #Danny: Oh no it’s not a responsibility thing; alcohol doesn’t affect me and they say it’s cheating #Why Yes Vlad IS flirting with their Constantine #He’s started his redemption but let’s be honest he’s also a con-man & John is all for fucking over the rich #Danny is disgusted at how well they’re getting along and wanted to get away from their flirting while everyone else ribbed at em #Hence why when they all felt the summoning he decided to go #Well that and also for the laughs because he’s learning magic Undead Constantine style #”Fuckin 'ell yeah the family 'as a necromancer in 'he line again look a' 'im go!” (Lots of ghost & living people drunken cheering)#Danny only half fucking with people: Yeah I’m like their collective undead fae child lmao #danny fenton #john constantine

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ash-and-starlight · 1 year

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what if we eloped in the earth kingdom 👉🏼👈🏼 and we were both girls 🫣😳

for mailee week day 2 // post canon

((heavily inspired by Uemura Shōen’s whispering beauties <333))

[ID: a colored digital drawing of Mai and Ty Lee. they’re drawn from the thigh-up, standing. Ty Lee is behind Mai and leaning close to her, tucking a white magnolia flower behind her ear. Mai’s head is slightly turned, and she’s looking softly back at Ty Lee. they’re both wearing kimonos in tones of green. the drawing is colored to resemble ukyo-e prints]

#also important but not pictured: ty lee is on her tiptoes bc mai is tall af #realized Now it could fit in the hair prompt as well….#what can i say hair is mailee intricate gay ritual #also yes i have. a thing. for gay ppl eloping in the ek look away #ESPECIALLY mailee they deserve a redemption arc AND a gay love arc in kyoshi island #mai #ty lee #my art #maileeweek2023 #oh ALSOOOOOO lesbian companion to the prince & the fool art lmao #ariana grande equality dot gif

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twola · 3 months

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i know arthur is a giver but sometimes i think he’d like being cruel. i have this image of him leaned back in a chair taking a drag out of his cigarette with reader writhing on his lap with tears in her eyes practically begging for him to do anything to her while he watches with feign indifference

Hooo boy. Okay, this is my first shot at a true low honor Arthur.

Lookin' for Trouble

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

The afternoon light was more than enough for you to finally get to reading after getting Grimshaw’s list of chores done. Finally, you’d be able to crack open this book that Hosea lent you all those weeks ago.

All of a sudden, the light is obscured over the pages of your book, and when you look up, you place a hand over your eyes to see the mountain of a man before you, peering down at you with a cigarette hanging off his lips.

“Oh, Arthur, I didn’t realize you’d be back so quick.” You smile up to him, closing the book and moving to your knees to stand up.

An outstretched hand juts into your view, “Ain’t nothin’ interesting in that backwater town.”

You take it and allow him to pull you up, but you frown up at him and don’t let go, turning both of your hands so that his knuckles face the two of you. The skin is broken and oozing a small amount of blood.

“Oh dear, let me clean that up for you in your tent.”

You drop his hand and he follows, smoking that cigarette without a reply. On its head, it must be a funny sight, the grizzled outlaw following your small frame back to his tent so dutifully.

He pulls the canvas down after the two of you enter the tent, tall enough being built off his wagon. The perks of being the enforcer of the group. You make yourself busy looking in the chest at the foot of his cot for some alcohol as you pull a handkerchief from the pocket of your skirt.

Arthur sits down on the edge of the cot, taking that old black hat from his head and dropping it atop the pillow that had seen better days.

“Here we go,” you dab your handkerchief with a bottle of god-knows-what and move back toward where Arthur sits.

He places the still-lit cigarette in the little glass tray at his bedside, the end of it continuing to smolder as he blows smoke toward the top of the tent, away from you.

You frown, twisting your head to change your view of his outstretched knuckles. “It’s an awkward angle, I-”

He cuts you off by making you yelp as his free hand shoots around your hip and pulls you down, your rear colliding with his firm thigh, his hand on your hip balancing you as you regain your composure.

“Oh… thanks…” you blush slightly, having been caught off guard. You return to dabbing at the broken skin of his knuckles, his large hand outstretched and dwarfing yours, as you perch upon his thigh, your back flush to his barrel chest.

“How did this happen?” You ask softly as you pick at the dirt in his inflamed, broken skin.

“Y’know, a bit of this, bit of that.”

You sigh, “I really hope you ain't out pickin’ fights, Arthur.”

Arthur hums dismissively in response, jostling you slightly on his thigh. He props the cigarette between his teeth and his free hand moves forward and begins bunching your skirts up, the hem of your dress being pulled higher and higher.

“Arthur-” You go to scold, but his searching hand gravitates right over where he’s looking for, pressing against your cunt through your bloomers. You give another yelp as his finger digs at the cotton, prodding and stroking and petting.

“A-Arthur, I’m tryin’ to-”

As you go to grip his forearm with both hands, his injured hand darts downward, grasping both of your wrists and holding them away from your body, essentially binding you and leaving you unable to stop his ministrations.

A low, satisfied noise rumbles out through his chest as you pant, his fingers edging the leg of your bloomers open and touching your bare skin. Just barely touching, teasing, as you squirm in his lap, his hold on your wrists as strong as iron.

You honest-to-god whine, tears welling behind your eyes as you squirm in his lap, trying to break free of his hold on your hands, trying to jut your hips into his hand more.

“A-Arthur- god, please-” you gasp aloud, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as you beg. He removes his hand entirely and you nearly sob at the loss.

Cracking your eyes open, you see him pull the cigarette from his mouth and place it in that glass tray, mashing the butt into the ash as he puts it out. He bounces his thigh as his hand returns to your cunt, chuckling darkly as you continue to squirm.

“Ain’t you just the prettiest little thing when you’re all needy like this?”

A fresh set of tears burst from your eyes as his hand snakes into your bloomers again to rub at you.

“P-please-”

“Please what, what d’ya need darlin’?”

He cups your cunt fully and helps you roll your hips over his thigh bone, and it’s all you can do not to sob loudly at the frustration.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Arthur please, please god, please touch me.”

“I am touchin’ ya’.” He responds, pleased with himself as you struggle against his grip, iron-like in its strength.

“In-inside-” you pant, continuing to squirm against him.

“Hmm, like this?”

You are able to bite back the scream you nearly let out as Arthur slides his trigger finger into your dripping cunt. He curls it with a practiced precision, and you buck in his lap, throwing your head back against the curve of his shoulder. Your temple brushes against his days-old beard before he leans in against you.

“There’s my girl,” he nips at your earlobe with haughty pride, fully taking satisfaction with the way you writhe atop him, “Makin’ them noises like a whore.”

There’s no snapping back at him, no retort back at his dry, teasing humor. You are able to do nothing but give a breathy sigh, almost agreeing with his statement.

Arthur grabs your hips and hoists you up to stand, quickly following and pushing you two stumbling steps to the table where a few of his guns are spread out. One sweep of his arm and the guns clatter into the grass before you're abruptly bent at the waist and spread out on the table.

“Arthur-”

One of his large hands splays across your lower back as he fiddles with the buttons of his pants. Essentially keeping you pinned down on the table, you have no option but to lay there and take whatever he is going to give you.

Arthur pulls your skirts up, tossing them over your hips before yanking your bloomers down and over the swell of your ass. His hand is between your legs quicker than you can sputter in indignation, and you bite your lip to keep from moaning as he strokes his thick fingers in and out of your wetness. Your eyes tightly shut as you breathe out your nose, and for a moment, you’re empty as he pulls away.

The hot, blunt head of his cock prods your entrance before he pushes himself inside you, in one strong thrust. Your fingers clamp on the edge of the table as you clench your teeth at the intrusion, fluttering on the edge of pain as his thick cock stretches you. It’s always like this, he’s not much of a gentle man.

“Tha’s it, what a good girl you are, takin’ everything I give ya.” Arthur drawls as he begins to buck his hips forward into yours, unflinchingly setting a rough, fast pace.

You’re unable to last after all the stimulation before, and it’s not long into the slamming of him into you that you begin to get that feeling that your release was imminent.

“A-Arthur-” you gasp out as you reel toward completion, the table squealing beneath you as he rocks his hips into yours faster, harder - punishing - all six foot of him hunches over you as he fucks you into a wet, messy orgasm, you pressing your forehead into the table as you clench around him.

He grunts, jerking his hips backward as his hands clamp harshly around your hips, squeezing so hard you’re sure there will be bruises in the morning. You feel the hot splatter of his spend on your rear as he lets out a long breath through his nose, trying himself to be quiet within the confines of the tent.

You pant, still bent over the small table, your skirts flipped over your hips as your knees shake. You hear Arthur fiddle with his pants before returning to you, his hands grasping at your thighs greedily before pulling at your skirts to right them.

He swats, albeit gently, at your rear before your skin disappears under your skirts.

“You gonna let me finish cleaning you up?” You ask, leaning over slightly to pick up your discarded bloomers from the ground, tucking them into your pocket.

Arthur sits back on his cot, his pants still unbuttoned and open unapologetically, as a sly smile creeps across his face.

“If yer really gonna clean me up, I think there’s a lot less clothing involved.”

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead fanfic #twolafic #arthur morgan smut #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #red dead smut #twola1k #prompt request

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whump-in-the-closet · 4 months

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characters who have to redeem themselves. Except “redemption” isn’t what they expected. They begged for forgiveness and now their every action is monitored. They have to let everyone know that they messed up— they can’t go anywhere without the whispers and dark stares following them.

Once proud, they now walk with head bowed and never never make eye contact. They’ve leaned that much. They have scars where everyone can see, purposefully placed there as a reminder of what happens when they mess up. It doesn’t matter how much they swear they’ve changed, the blows come all the same. Casual now— just backhanded slaps and grabbing and quick orders to shut up—

they’ve learned their lesson. They don’t want redemption.

#whump #whump writing #whumpblr #whump prompt #whump community #whump ideas #whump prompts #whump scenario #whumpee tuned whumper #heehoo #enjoy #corruption arc #rather than redemption

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rookthebird · 8 months

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thinking about redeemed villains who can't cope with how much suffering they caused in their past.

redeemed villains who only allow themselves the bare minimum for survival- plain gruel, a blanket when they sleep on the floor, tattered old clothes- because they don't feel like they deserve anything nicer.

redeemed villains who lie awake at night with every horrible thing they've ever done running through their mind.

redeemed villains who take dangerous risks on behalf of the heroes because they don't feel like they deserve to live.

#whump #whump prompts #whumpblr #writing prompt #writing trauma #villain and hero #creative writing #writeblr #villain x hero #redemption arc

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arthursfuckinghat · 1 month

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Nothing is quite like enjoying the early days of chapter three, then hearing Arthur's first cough to snap you right back to the reality of his fate

#my heart dropped #that first actual cough #not prompted by dust or any other usual thing #it echoes in my brain #and its in a cutscene with dutch #oh man #this game #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #mick squeaks #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 spoilers

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seaside-writings · 11 days

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I hope this prompt list brings you inspiration wherever it is needed, and like always if you do use these prompts please tag me so I can see what you’ve made!

I hope you all stay blessed and safe throughout your day.

Lots of Love & Wishes: Celia 💙🎵

🎵 “I thought I saw the devil this morning… Looking in the mirror, drop of rum on my tongue,” 🎵 “But the blood on my hands scares me to death,” 🎵 “I never meant to start a fire,” 🎵 “My past has tasted bitter for years now," 🎵 “Grace is just weakness or so I've been told,” 🎵 “I'll be good, I'll be good,” 🎵 “For all of the things that I've done all these years,” 🎵 “I've been cold, I've been merciless,” 🎵 “I'll be good, and I'll love the world like I should,” 🎵 “With the warning to help me see myself clearer.” 🎵 “For all of the bruises I've caused in the tears,” 🎵 “For all of the light that I shut out,” 🎵 “So I wield an iron fist,” 🎵 “I'll be a better man today,” 🎵 “For all the sparks that I stomped out,” 🎵 “For all of the innocent things that I doubt,” 🎵 “For all of the perfect things that I doubt,” 🎵 “I never meant to make you bleed,” 🎵 “I'll be good for all of the times, I never could,”

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whygodohgodwhy · 1 year

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Quote Prompt

“I know that you might not deserve forgiveness, but the way you talk about your past - it’s like you don’t even understand that it’s why you turned out like this. And, I think I can offer you a second chance. Or, maybe, in your case, a first. I think the child in those stories might deserve it, even if you don’t.”

#writing prompt #writing prompts #quote prompt #redemption prompt

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hihomeghere · 1 month

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1 and 81 for Charles smut! I’m so excited for these prompts it’s gonna be so fun!

Knight in Shining Armor | Charles Smith/Reader

I really didn't mean for this to be this long, and yet here we are! I hope you enjoy!

Prompt list

Word Count : 3.1k Prompts : 1. "Kiss me" "What-", 81. "Your heart is racing." Warnings/Tags : Mention of abuse, mentions of SH, piv smut, fingering, cleaning of cuts, getting bucked off a horse, cursing, female reader

The Parlour House was bustling with life, beer and whiskey freely flowing. Ever since moving to Clemens point, after that nasty business in Valentine, you had been frequenting the parlor house most nights. Dutch and Hosea had taught you well, pick pocketing was your specialty. It’s how you made your living in the gang, and there were more than enough drunkards to steal from in Rhodes.

Especially with the stupid rivalry between the Grays and Braithwaites. While Dutch and Hosea were dipping their hands into their pockets figuratively, you were literally doing it.

“Honey, that must be so hard.” You cooed, not giving a shit what this Gray was actually saying. It was about the gold, always about the gold. Dutch was always talking about the gold, Hosea was always talking about the gold. Eventually to save your sanity you had to start tuning them out. You trailed your fingers down his chest, expertly slipping your fingers into his pocket, and pocketing his watch.

“You have no idea darlin’.” He sighed, his glassy eyes raking over your body.

“Oh but I do.” You said pouting your lips, your head lolling up and down in an exaggerated fashion. “It must be so tough.” Taking his hand in yours you lifted it to your mouth. Kissing each finger before slipping off his gold band. He wouldn’t be missing it, especially when he was flirting with any woman who would look his way.

“Hey,” He grinned lazily, “You wanna get a room? Get a bath maybe?” He said trailing his fingers up your arm. You fought every urge to vomit, smiling sweetly at him.

“Oh honey I’m not that type of girl.” You said chuckling softly, pulling away from him. His featherlight touches turned firm, his hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Don’t tell me you ain’t been thinking about it.” He says through gritted teeth.

“I haven’t honey, honest.” You whispered, shaking your head. Your eyes dart around the saloon for some knight in shining armor. Your eyes landing on a familiar outline outside.

Why did it have to be him?

When you’ve been fighting feelings for the ox of a man for months.

When he was asked to be your ‘chaperone’ after coming back to camp one too many times bruised from angry men’s fists. Turning down advances became second nature, but most boys didn’t take no for an answer.

Dutch and Hosea had given you two options, stop working or start taking a man from camp to act as muscle in case things got ugly.

And things were starting to look ugly.

You pulled hard against his hand, yanking your hand from his grip. Hissing as his fingernails scraped down your wrist. You turned on your heel, racing for the door. Pushing the doors open, gasping in a breath of fresh air, your eyes turned onto Charles.

“Charles!” You yelled, running into his arms. His large hands landed on your waist as you slammed into the brick wall of his chest.

“Y/n?” His brows furrowed as he looked down at you before his eyes snapped towards the sound of the parlor door busting open.

“Kiss me.” You said grabbing his shirt, pulling him down to your height.

“Wha-“ Was all he managed to get out before you were slamming your lips onto his. He froze, his lips pursed against yours. A disgruntled huff came out of the Gray chasing you, along with a few not so kind words about your character. Although kissing Charles had deterred him, the door slamming behind the man as he headed back inside.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled pulling away from him, “I didn’t know what else to do.” You said tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as your cheeks burned.

“I think you’ve had enough fun for tonight.” He said, clearing his throat, avoiding your gaze. You nodded, swallowing thickly as you both walked back to your horses.

Taima and your newer stallion waited for your return. You set your foot in the stirrup, swinging your leg over your horse's back. You snuck a few glances over at Charles, his brow was set as he climbed up onto the Appaloosa.

You both set off to Clemens point, following the setting sun over the Scarlett meadows. You tried to keep your eyes forward and your mind off his lips against yours. His warm hands squeezing your waist, how they would feel against your bare skin. Shaking your head, you pulled yourself out of your daydream. Glad that Charles was riding behind you, unable to see your flushed face.

It was like time stood still for a moment, your stallions ears pinned back, a started squeal leaving his mouth. Your hands gripped the reins, trying to pull him away from the diamond rattlesnake curled up. He fought against you, bucking you off of his back. You hit the ground, hard. Gasping like a fish out of water as you tried to get the air back in your lungs. Charles was immediately at your side, helping you into a fetal position.

“Deep breath in your nose, out your mouth.” He said softly, his hand resting on your shoulder. You had no idea how he possibly could have gotten off Taima that fast, maybe you had been on the ground longer than you thought. Gasping in small strangled breaths.

Finally you were able to take in a long shallow breath. “There we go.” He said rubbing your arm, helping you into a sitting position. His thumb moved across your cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

“Stupid fucking horse.” You groaned, eliciting a small chuckle from him.

“Well you won’t have to worry about it anymore.” He said getting to his feet, looking down the road.

“I told Hosea he was worthless.” You huffed, taking Charles hand as he pulled you up. You hissed, standing up. Your back burning, no doubt tore up from your fall onto the dirt road.

“I think you have high standards, Glory was a great horse.” He said dusting you off. You sighed, Glory was the best horse, but she didn’t make it out of Blackwater.

“She was.” You sighed, putting your hands on your hips as you looked down the road, “That was a good saddle, too.” You said, shaking your head.

“We’ll find you a new one.” He smiled down at you, his warm eyes meeting yours. “Come on, let’s get you back to camp.” He said, his hand connecting with the small of your back. Pain shot up your back as you let out a low hiss, arching away from his hand. “Everything okay?” He asked, his brows furrowed.

“Think I tore up my back.” You nodded, waving him off, “Get on and I’ll sit behind you.” He nodded, climbing up onto the gray speckled Appaloosa. You grabbed his arm, slowly moving your leg over her back. You wrapped your arms around Charles waist, laying your head between his shoulder blades. You could feel the pounding of his heart against your cheek as Taima started to trot forward.

“Your heart is racing.” You said softly, his chest rumbling as he chuckled.

“You gave me quite a scare, you know?” He said, turning his head slightly to look at you.

“You probably think I’m a mess.” You chuckled nervously, shaking your head.

“No,” He said softly, “I don’t.”

You rode in silence, your hips bumping into his behind with the sway of Taima’s steps. You were glad you were born a female, because there is no way you wouldn’t have gotten a hard on. You didn’t have to worry about your breasts pressing against Charles' back for much longer, the familiar line of trees coming into view.

He led Taima over to the hitching posts, giving her a firm pat before turning to help you off. His hands landed on your waist for the second time. He lifted you off of her back as though you weighed nothing. Setting you gently on the ground, his hands lingering on your waist.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He said softly, nodding as he looked down at you.

“Alright.” You nodded, walking towards your tent. He headed off to grab some supplies while you pulled the canvas flap down. You sat down on your cot, staring at the discolored fabric of your tent. You couldn’t tell if it was anxiety or anticipation bubbling up inside you. You just knew if Charles didn’t get back soon you would explode from it.

He cleared his throat, pulling back the flap as he stepped inside your tent. “Can you take your shirt off?” He asked, “I need to clean your back.” You swallowed thickly, nodding your head.

“Yeah, yeah.” You said looking down, your fingers trembling as you began to unbutton your blouse. You bit your lip as you pushed your shirt off of your shoulders, moving your hair off of your back. The cot sank as he settled his weight down next to you.

“This’ll sting.” Charles said softly, pouring alcohol onto a cloth before pressing against the cuts on your back.

“Shit.” You said through gritted teeth, your knuckles turning white as you gripped the cot beneath you. He mumbled an apology, pulling the cloth away from your back. Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers replaced the cloth. Goosebumps erupting on your skin as they trailed down your back. You felt frozen, wanting more than anything to look back at him, but at the same time you were afraid he would stop if you moved.

You bit the bullet, turning your head to glance back at him. His dark eyes met yours, cautious, like he was afraid to spook you. Although you wanted to shy away from his gaze, you held it, an unspoken exchange passing between the two of you.

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder, holding your gaze. You reached up to cup his cheek, moving as though it was muscle memory. An intricate dance choreographed for you two. He let out a soft sigh against your skin as your hand connected to his face. Your soft palm resting against his scarred cheek. His hands moved to your waist, squeezing softly. His lips laid kisses from your shoulder up to your neck.

“Charles,” You sighed, not knowing what you were asking for. He hummed against your neck, his chest rumbling softly. You turned on the cot, pressing yourself against him. Your nipples rubbed against the cotton fabric of his shirt. You brushed your nose against his, your arms wrapped sweetly around his neck. He took the plunge, pressing his lips against yours.

Warmth flooded your body, like the first sip of whiskey. Heat spreads from your lips down into your belly. Arousal sparking between your legs as he moans softly into your mouth. You part your lips, swallowing his sounds greedily. Your tongue flicks into his mouth, dancing with his. Your hand threads into his dark locks, tugging experimentally at his scalp.

He groans, low and reverberating through his chest. You smirk against his lip, repeating your motions. His hand, calloused and warm, laid over your breast. Kneading it gently, you gasp as his thumb runs over your nipple. You arch into his hand, closing your eyes as you pull him closer.

“Charles I-“ You said breathlessly, looking at him through half lidded eyes.

“I know.” He said softly, ducking his head to take your nipple into his mouth. You moaned, an unabashed whine pulled out of your throat as his tongue swirled around the bud. He pulled away with a satisfying pop, his dark eyes meeting yours as he smiled up at him. “You need to stop with those sounds, sweet girl.” He whispered, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours again. A silent plea for a kiss which you eagerly gave. Your mouth clashed against his, unlike the first sickly sweet kiss you shared.

“I’ll try.” You chuckled softly, looking at him with a lust filled gaze. His eyes only showed adoration, a look that had you faltering. “What?” You asked with a nervous smile.

“You’re beautiful.” He said nonchalantly, as though it was something as simple as saying the sky was blue.

“Shut up.” You said, your cheeks burning as you pulled on the hem of his shirt. He chuckled softly, pulling the blue fabric over his head, throwing it onto the floor.

Your lips met again, your hands laying on his bare chest. Feeling the heat radiating off of his body, feeding the fire between your legs. Your hands mapped a path down his chest, taking in every scar and divot.

“I need you.” You whined, looking up at him. He smirked, a glint in his eye as he laid you back. You hissed, the rough fabric gliding against your cuts.

“That won’t work.” He said pulling you back up, you laid a chaste kiss on his lips before standing. You untied your skirts, letting them pool around your feet. He leaned back on the cot, unbuttoning his pants and shimmying out of them. You slipped your fingers into the top of your bloomers pulling them over the swell of your ass. You bit your lip, your eyes rising slowly to meet his.

“C’mere.” He said reaching for you, you took a step towards him. His hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. His head rested against your stomach, his other hand trailing up your thigh. You waited patiently for him to touch the place you needed him most. He didn’t make you wait long, his large hand cupping your mound. Trailing his fingers through your slick folds, his thumb pressing against the hood of your clit.

Your breath hitched, pleasure shooting through your body. Your hands gripped his shoulders as he laid featherlight kisses on your stomach. His thick finger presses into your cunt, a low whine leaving your chest.

“Shh,” He said softly, starting to pump his finger in and out of you. You bite your lip to stifle your moans, your fingernails digging crescent shaped marks into his shoulders.

Charles knows he shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he is. Knows he shouldn’t like how you dig your nails into him. He knows when tomorrow comes those marks will remain, even if you don’t.

He adds a second finger and your knees start to shake, dancing dangerously close to the edge of your orgasm. You can feel his eyes burning into you, almost willing you to look at him. You’ve never felt this, this yearning for another person, not just for their body. You want Charles, you want all of him. You want him to be yours and you want to be his. You want to scream from the rooftops that you feel the closest to, well love, that you’ve ever been.

And fuck is that terrifying.

Then his thumb circles on your clit and you’re fucking gone. Diving headfirst into a pool of pleasure.

“There we go.” He cooed letting out a satisfied huff. You chuckle weakly, leaning your head against his. A bead of sweat runs down your forehead onto his. “You think you’re ready?” He asked, his deep brown eyes meeting yours.

“I’ve been ready for a long time.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“That’s not what I meant.” He said taking your hand, placing it on his crotch.

Oh.

How was that supposed to fit inside you?

You stroked up his length through his undergarments. You grabbed the piece of clothing separating skin on skin and pulled it down this thick thighs. Your mouth watering as his cock bounced up onto his stomach. Painfully hard and weeping. You spit onto your hand, spreading your saliva over his cock head. You stand over him, letting his hands guide your hips down. His girthy head stretches you open, your breath catching in your throat.

“My girl.” He groans, as you slide down onto his length. My, My, My, My. It’s a constant loop in your head as he fully sheathes himself inside you. Stretching you wider than you’ve ever been before, painful in a good way. You let out a shaky breath, craning your neck back in pleasure. Charles' lips press against your pulse point, a silent apology on his part. Although there isn’t a need for it, your hips rise off of him slightly, before slamming back down.

A near animalistic moan falls out of Charles lips, his hands dimpling your flesh. You clenched around him, gasping as his hips thrusted upwards. Concern flashed across his face before it quickly turned lustful as you grinded down onto him. He let you set the pace, wanting you to enjoy the experience as much as he was. He was along for the ride you could say. If he had it his way he would have buried his head between your thighs until you were crying.

You raised your hips until he was almost out of you before slamming back down. Repeating the motion until you could feel the coil tightening in your stomach.

“Yeah? You close?” Charles asked, sucking a mark that would definitely get you a few stares in the morning onto your neck.

“Mmhm.” You said, your head lolling back and forth. Biting your lip to stop the wanton moans that threatened to break free. He took over, thrusting up into you. Suddenly the coil snapped, you gushed over his cock, slamming your hand over your mouth to muffle your moan.

“That’s my good girl.” He praises, his thrusts starting to get sloppier as he goes on. He quickly pulls out, groaning as he spills his seed onto the ground. You chuckled breathlessly, smiling as you laid your head onto his shoulder. He let out a long satisfied sigh, his hands rubbing soothing circles onto your thighs. “I didn’t hurt you, right?” He asked, looking into your eyes for confirmation.

“Far from it.” You laughed, shaking your head. “That was…” you trailed off grinning.

“Yeah.” He nodded, gently squeezing your thigh. A comfortable silence fell between the two of you. Nothing needed to be said, that was the wonderful thing about you and Charles. But you wanted- no needed to say something.

“Maybe I should get in trouble and fall off my horse more often.” You chuckled, rubbing your nose against his cheek.

“You don’t need to do that again.” He mumbled, a smile spreading across his face. “Just- just talk to me next time.”

“Next time?” You asked, hoping bubbling up in your chest.

“Next time.” He nodded, brushing his nose against yours.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #charles smith #charles smith x reader #arthur morgan #hosea matthews #dutch van der linde #john marston #javier escuella #charles smith smut #hihomeghere #mini prompt

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hidedino · 2 months

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my dissection of q!fit and q!pac's love languages how they lead to q!fit's insecurities.

pac's love language is gift giving. we could've observed this since the day of their first unofficial date when he'd given a rose to fit, albeit the whole idea was prompted by richas. but as their relationship had progressed, pac started showing this tendency more by himself. he kept confirming to fit that he was free to come and take anything from his storage system and also seemed happier than ever when fit had given him the wand he'd accidentally broken or the trident he didn't own until that point. even during the days leading up to the the confession pac was clearly very excited about fit giving him his leftover egg quest cookies and food on multiple occasions. and of course, there was the prison when pac kept giving fit roses or food items whenever he saw him. pac loves showing people how much he loves them by giving them items which he carefully chooses. he also feels overjoyed whenever he receives anything from fit, no matter what its value is because to him those gifts are the biggest affirmation of fit's love for him. and this is where fit's problem arrises.

fit's love language are positive affirmations. of course, he always gives a lot of support to all his friends, but even more so to pac. you can watch segments of compilations which are just 10 clips of fit shouting out every possible compliment at pac during a fight. he always throws in some whenever he hears pac self-deprecating himself or whenever he gets a chance to.

and then pac throws compliments back at him and suddenly he panics and laughts it off. because fit isn't used to receiving any positive affirmations and it pulls out his instincts of guarding himself from vulnerabilities. he becomes embarrassed and shy and turns them back at pac instead of accepting them.

so why does it seem like fit spends so much time by gathering and putting thought into every gift for pac when that isn't even his main love language? insecurities.

because he loves pac more than he loves himself. so he feeds into pac's love language like the amazing partner he is, but doesn't allow himself to let pac do the same.

one thing that had really struck me yesterday was how fit had mentioned he felt bad for not having given pac better gifts than pac got for him. he sees himself unworthy of pac's love because he feels like he can't prove to both himself and pac that he's good enough for him. he's unable to admit to himself that he doesn't need to compete for pac's love and that anything he does for pac only serves to make pac fall further in love with him.

so yes, sure, pac himself is quite insecure and fit is a great match for him in this regard as he naturally seeks to give him unprompted reassurance. but are we talking enough about fit's facade and how his emotional repression is still affecting him?

#this was all prompted by that clip from yesterday i mention at the end #also this is my redemption after having said that fit's love language is gift giving #because it's not #i hope this makes sense #fitpac #hideduo #qsmp hideduo #qsmp #dino.thoughts #qsmp fitpac #qsmp fit #qsmp pac

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puppetmaster13u · 6 months

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Prompt 47

Hear me out. Amity Park gets shifted in universes slightly- maybe it’s from Pariah, maybe it was a wish, maybe they did so on purpose to escape something- and they end up in the DC-verse. The thing is, thanks to the media blackout and the shields, no one in the new universe notices. The Amityville Paekers know about outside, can go on the internet and leave whenever they want, but they’ve all become more than a little liminal. More than a little off. Movements too graceful, eyes too sharp, ears too pointed and teeth more akin to predatory fangs. Skin with a soft glow, hair moving as though underwater or being tussled by the wind- bodies seemingly unaging after a certain point. They’re so ecto-contaminated that they’re unsure they can even be counted as human anymore, and it wasn’t like the city wasn’t already practically self sufficient. Add in a portal or two through the Infinite Realms to get supplies to start a few fields or some fish farms and well, they’re pretty good. Sure it’s resulted in them using a mixture of modern and older money and having several extinct plants and animals running around but that’s fine. There’s magic in this world! Actual magic, that they can learn! And use? Oh this makes rebuilding after a sparring incident go so much faster!

This results in the hero who stumbles across this place to believe they’ve stumbled across some sort of city of fae or elves.

#Vlad gets a redemption arc through being properly socialized #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompts #fae amity au #honestly might have been the outlaws or some speedsters who stumbled across the city #Let's be real Ellie goes out and ends up stealing away clones sometimes too #You can tell who is more liminal by how animated their hair is or if it has white in it #No longer is white hair a sign of age but now ecto-contamination #Usually activated upon death but most end up like revived instantly #the shields made it where the ecto from the portal couldn't leave so it flooded the inside #resulting in everyone getting blasted by ecto 24/7 for several years until they adapted & started producing it on their own

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