mishmasho

[mishmasho]

sub leon… yes…

𝙇𝙚𝙤𝙣 𝙆𝙚𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙙𝙮 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙉𝙎𝙁𝙒 🩶

You and Leon are dispatched on a mission that involves going to Death Island. Upon completing the task, Leon and you run into a rather slimy situation..

Additional Tags : leon under the effects of an aphrodisiac, you have to help him out, sensitive leon, submissive top!character, power bottom!reader

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“Six o’clock!” You shout, loud enough for Leon to shoot the zombie running up behind him full speed. Leon whirls around fast, eyeing his cannibalistic target before aiming.

Bam!

“Thanks,” Leon says, keeping up with your pace as you open the door to the exit.

You raise your handgun instinctively, just in case another undead person creeps around trying to maul you. You take a breath.

“Okay. I think we’re-“ You were rudely interrupted by a sudden swarm of zombies, coming at you from all sides.

“Shit,” Leon mumbles under his breath before reloading his own gun and blowing a few brains out of the skulls of the zombies nearing him. You mimic his actions, taking out the ones blocking your route to get out of this place.

One zombie gets a little too close just when you run out of bullets. In a panic, you fumble around for a spare mag, tripping on one of the bodies around you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Leon swerves around, cocking his gun and landing the final blow. The zombie falls to the ground with a thud. You look up at him in awe.

“Thanks,” You say, struggling to get up. “Shall we go?”

“Yeah,” Leon nods, scanning the perimeter once more before glancing back at you. “You okay?”

“Of course,” you say, your pride a little hurt. This wasn’t your first mission with Leon, and you’ve saved his ass more times than he’s saved yours.

“Okay,” He offers his hand to you and reluctantly, you take it. Leon grabs his walkie-talkie and informs the pilot that the mission is complete.

You reach the helicopter but notice Leon’s stuck in place as a strange substance on the floor clings on to the exposed skin from his ripped pants.

“Leon?” You say, going over to him. “What is that?”

Leon grunts. “I don’t know. It sort of just latched onto me,” He uses his hand to try and remove the substance, which looks to be some sort of black and green goop.

“Here, let me try,” You have gloves on, so you use both hands and pry off the goo, casting it on the opposite side of where you and Leon are.

“That felt kind of.. strange,” Leon mutters, scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” You say.

You and Leon walk back over to the helicopter, but you notice that his legs are getting kind of wobbly.

“Hey, are you sure you’re alright?” You ask.

“Yeah, my legs just feel kind of weak,” He says, getting into the back of the helicopter. You nod and follow in suit.

The back of the helicopter is surprisingly spacious. There was a bed, a table, and even two chairs like it was meant for recreation rather than for missions. Leon must have noticed you ogling the place and cleared his throat.

“I, um, asked for this one specifically because of your reaction earlier,” He says with a straight face even though he’s getting pink. You crack a smile.

“Shucks, Leon, you didn’t have to,” You say and give his arm a light tap, which made him flinch.

“Um, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s happening,” Leon says breathily. You stare at him, noticing his face going from a light pink to red.

“Hey, Leon?” You say, getting in closer to catch a glimpse of his expression. He moves away from you and you begin to have a suspicion. Your hands wander to this thigh which makes Leon yelp out.

“What are you doing?” He sputters, backing away again.

“Just as I suspected,” You mutter. “Leon, I think you’re under the effects of an aphrodisiac.”

“An aphrodisiac?” He blinks. “But.. I haven’t even taken any supplements..”

“I think it was that goo that you stepped in earlier,” You say. You didn’t know much about aphrodisiacs, but you did know that if you left a person with its effects unattended, it could get bad.

“We need to get it out of your system as soon as possible,” You say.

“W..what are you suggesting?” Leon breathes. He’s tugging at the neck of his shirt and repositions his leg to hide his crotch. “I.. I can’t have sex with my partner, y/n! If we go through with this, everything will change between us.”

You ponder it for a second. Sure, you thought Leon was attractive. Who didn’t? Everyone on the team talked about his looks, and anyone who’s asked him out has been flat out rejected. It’s not like you had any chance with him anyway.

“It doesn’t matter,” You say, putting your hand back on his leg, making your way to his inner thigh when he snatches your hand firmly.

“Don’t,” He looks up at you. “Don’t do it,”

You huff out in irritation. “Look, Leon. Unless we get this aphrodisiac out of you, you’ll be dealing with something much more than just a hard-on. We need to do this now.”

He stares at your hand clasped in his, then back at you. He clenches his jaw and lets go of you.

“Fine,” He says quietly. “Just a handjob, okay?”

You give him a small nod and move your hands to unbutton his pants. With a simple pop they come undone, and you pull down his boxer and cargos off at the same time.

You take a moment to admire the view.

Leon Kennedy, who’s usually calm, collected and put together, is in front of you, rock-hard and flustered.

You use your index finger and press down on his tip, making his whole body flinch. You notice the precum leaking like a faucet. His face somehow goes even redder than before and he turns his head away from you.

You let your fingers slide up and down his length a few times, feeling him twitch under your touch. His pants are getting noticeably faster as well.

You grip his cock at the base and begin stroking slowly, just so you don’t overwhelm him on his first orgasm.

Leon seems to notice that your pace is slow, so he grips your leg with all the strength he can muster.

“Y/n please, just hurry,” He croaks. The face he’s making right now is so lewd, you feel yourself getting wet.

“I don’t want you to go completely dumb with overstimulation the first time,” You say, continuing at the previous speed. He chuckles dryly.

“What, you really believe that this pace’ll do it for me?” He says, his tone wobbly. “We’ll be doing this the whole flight back at this rat- agh!”

This must’ve snapped something inside you, because you start pumping faster. You grip tighter as you stroke, causing Leon to let out a loud moan. He quickly covers his mouth and looks up at the ceiling, but you remove his hand.

“Don’t quiet down, Leon,” You whisper directly into his ear, making him shudder.

“Then everyone’ll hear m- nnghh..” He jerks upwards, letting out another stifled moan. You use your other hand on the length of his cock and you twist the base at the same time.

“W-wait!” He drabbles, groaning. “I’m gonna cum, ah..” He shoots out his load onto the floor, and some on the seat. He’s panting heavily and he’s gone limp. His erection hasn’t gone down one bit, however.

“I’m still.. hard,” Leon says, obviously frustrated. He’s shaky and he’s trying to calm down.

You take a breath, staring down at his throbbing girth.

“I’m going to suck you off” You say, already going on your knees and in between Leon’s legs. He jolts, peering down at you.

“You’re not gonna back off even if I say no, right?” He groans, his breath hitching.

“That’s right,” You wrap your tongue around the underside of his tip and you plunge your mouth right in. Leon actually whimpers before thrashing around.

“Wait! W-wait..” Leon can’t even form the next words as he goes inaudible from the sudden sensation of your mouth, all hot and wet, taking his length. You can’t even get all of it in because he’s stupidly big.

You glide up and down fast, using your tongue just as quick to feel up the sensitive top part of his dick. To make up for the length you can’t take in, you wrap your hands around the base and bring stroking as you continue to blow him. Above you, you hear Leon moan and mutter something unintelligible and he grips onto your hair.

“Sorry for this,” He says, and shoves your mouth completely in his dick.

Tears spring in your eyes and you suddenly feel thankful you have a good gag reflex. He pushes your mouth in and out, and just to get back at him for this, you place your tongue on his tip just to stop him from orgasming. He gasps.

“Don’t do that..” He doubles over, like he’s wounded. “Let me c-cum..”

You use your free hand to tap his arm that’s holding your hair and he immediately lets go. You remove your tongue and he climaxes in your mouth with another lengthy moan before letting his back slam onto the wall behind him with a soft thud. His panting makes you feel bad for denying him for a few seconds there.

“You don’t touch me,” You say, glaring and swallowing his seed in one go. He makes a face at you.

“Why’d you swallow?” He says between heavy breaths.

“Just because,” You say. You glance down at his cock, seeing it twitching and rising again.

“Did that turn you on?” You say incredulously. “You whore, you came twice!”

“Look, it’s not my fault,” He says, wincing. “Even air blowing against my dick is making it throb again,”

You, still on your knees, blow on his cock. His exaggeration was actually right. He’s completely hard again.

“Leon,” You say, getting up. “We need to finish this off, now. I’m sorry.”

Leon watches you, baffled as you take off your own shorts and then your underwear, revealing your dripping pussy.

“Y-y/n..” Leon says, looking down at the floor. “What are you going to do?”

You raise your eyebrow. “Well, I’m going to have to ride you,”

Leon’s eyes widen as he begins to fumble for his pants. “No, none of that. You said it would be a handjob, nothing more!”

You scoff. “Yeah, well, it seems as if you can’t wait for me to get on top of you. Look at that thing.” You gesture to his blushing dick, standing up straight as a lightning rod.

Leon makes a groaning sound and covers his face with both of his hands. “Just.. just get it over with,”

You waste no time crawling on top of him and taking his hand into yours.

“Here, put a finger inside me,” You say, as if you were talking about the weather.

“Can’t.. you just put it in?” Leon murmurs, still refusing to make eye contact.

“Do you want me to tear?” You ask accusingly. “It’s almost as if this is your first time having sex.”

Leon looks offended when he huffs out a quiet “No it’s not,” and proceeds to use his index and middle finger to brush around your flaps.

You shudder at the feel. Leon’s radiating heat, and mix that with the feeling of his even hotter hands nearing the inside of your pussy, you can’t help but feel good.

Leon seems to notice the way you’re struggling to keep your composure and, without warning, shoves his two fingers inside you. You gasp, throwing your head into his shoulder and gripping his hair.

Leon sucks in a breath as he works the walls of your vagina, poking and pressing wherever he can. He’s making way for another finger to be inserted, even though you can barely hold back the noises you’re making from two of them.

“L-Leon..” You groan. “Just.. take them out. I can take it now.”

Leon looks up at you, finally. “Are you sure? I’m not small, y’know,”

You scowl, pulling his fingers out yourself.

Too fast, you wince as you finally lower yourself onto Leon’s penis. You struggle to make eye contact with him because his eyes are glued to the sight of your pussy swallowing up his length.

“Stop,” You say, shielding his eyes with your hand.

“But the view’s nic- oh!” Leon shudders as you plunge yourself completely onto his cock. You jolt yourself, feeling every inch of him deep inside your walls.

You plap up and down, gripping hard on Leon’s shoulders as he watches you in complete ecstasy.

“Y/n..” The sound of him saying your name makes you clench around him, making Leon groan out.

“C-can I touch you now..?” He’s asking so cautiously as if you’d say no.

You don’t say anything, just nod once and hai hands are already gripping your waist, shoving you deeper into him. You yelp, falling against his chest and gripping into his back muscles.

“Leon.. s-slow down.. agh-“ Is all you get out before he goes even faster and moans like he’s the one riding you.

You feel yourself getting close to climaxing, and you scratch his back with your nails. He shudders, placing kisses on your hair.

“Y/n.. I’m gonna cum again,” He whispers through whimpers and pants. You get goosebumps at the sound of his breath against your ear, and you both finish at the same time, Leon quickly pulling out and spills onto the floor.

You both are panting heavily, Leon still holding you in his arms.

“You..” He gulps, steadying his breath. “You okay?”

You glare at him. “Like hell I am. My whole bottom half is aching,” He glances down at the mess he made, suddenly flushed again.

“Sorry,” He says sheepishly, gently letting go of you and lying down on the mattress. At least he’s finally gone soft.

“I think the aphrodisiac’s outta you now,” You say, struggling to rise from the bed. Leon grabs your arm.

“Yeah..” He says, not looking your way. “Can you stay? Just for a few minutes.”

You smirk, plopping down next to him. You turn to face him, brushing his hair away from his eyes.

“I’m glad..” He says, turning pink again. “I’m glad it was you. Not some stranger who just happened to be there.”

You smile. “Me too,”

[mishmasho]

i need arthur to live a long tb-free life 🥹💔

A reminder that you can always reject canon if it sucks and write your own fix-it fics

[mishmasho]

Arthur Morgan NSFW

“Oh girl, what’d you do?” She asked, placing a hand on your shoulder, urging you to sit with her on one of the many tables around camp. 

“I read his journal…” You confessed, your chest feeling tight. 

“That boy.. if he don’t want anyone readin’ his journal, he should stop bein’ so careless with it!” 

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

WC: 5,726

Additional Tags: sub!reader, thigh riding, fingering, p i v, creampie, outdoor sex, praise | MDNI

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

    No one was allowed to touch his Journal. He made that very clear. A few years ago, when John was younger and didn’t know any better, he took a peek. Arthur had left the journal in his tent while fishing with Hosea, not wanting to get it wet. When he came back to camp, John was all over him. 

     “Had fun fishing, loverboy?” John grinned, waving Arthur’s journal in his face. 

     “You give that back, Marston!” Arthur lunged at John, reaching for the journal. John jumped back, reading some of the entries out loud. 

     “Mary, I’m a fool. Maybe we both are. How someone like you could choose to love someone like me, I’ll never understand,” John snickered as he evaded Arthur’s attempts to retrieve the journal. 

     “You little shit,” Arthur grumbled, grabbing John’s collar. The commotion caused a few of the other gang members to turn heads. 

     “Let go of me!” John clawed at Arthur’s arm as he raised a fist, so close to punching the younger boy before Hosea interrupted. 

     “Now, Arthur let’s not resort to violence, keep in mind if Dutch finds out you punched a gang member he’ll have you shovelling horse shit,” Hosea scolded, not wanting to deal with bratty teenagers while brushing through his horse’s mane. Arthur reluctantly dropped John, taking the chance to snatch his journal out of his hands, brushing off any dirt and grime that may have stuck to the thing. John stood with a scowl on his face as he watched Arthur stomp off to his tent while muttering profanities under his breath. 

     Another instance was when poor Sean was seen picking up the journal when it lay fallen on the ground. Before even getting a chance to read the journal, Arthur had swung. 

     “Christ, Morgan! I was just picking the damn thing up!” Sean exclaimed, clutching the side of his face as he stumbled backward. 

     “Back off,” Arthur snapped. Normally he wouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like that but he had been in a dark place at the time and didn’t want anyone reading what he’d written. Just seeing anyone near his journal ticked him off. 

     Arthur calmed down in the following years. Even so, the Van der Linde gang knew not to mess with him and his journal—everyone except you. 

     You were new to the gang, having recently joined after Arthur ran into you running from lawmen in the back alleys of Saint Denis. He’d wanted to take a shortcut to get to the trapper in the market to sell some pelts when you had slammed face-first into Arthur’s chest. 

     “Easy there, madam,” Arthur chuckled, helping you stand up straight, “What’s the-,“ 

     !!!

     Arthur’s sentence got cut short by the sound of whistles. 

     “Ah shit, lawmen?” Arthur scoffed, not wanting to deal with the law. He was a wanted man after all. 

     “Fuck!” You winced, not wanting to get a random stranger caught up in your troubles. 

     “Come with me,” Arthur grabbed your hand, beginning to pull you along in the direction of his horse. 

     “Wait, what?” 

     “Do you want to get arrested or not?” Arthur muttered, picking up the pace of his footsteps. You followed behind quickly, thankful for the stranger helping you out. Once you both exited the alley and entered the busy streets of Saint Denis, Arthur jogged towards his horse, a big and beautiful Hungarian Halfbreed named Maverick. 

     “Get on,” Arthur told you, extending a hand outwards to help you up. You took his hand, moving to sit side saddle behind him. 

     “C’mon, boy!” Arthur commanded as his horse began trotting down the street. You wrapped your hands around his waist, holding on tightly as his horse sped up into a gallop. 

     “What’s your name, sir?” You questioned, wanting to know who the man helping you out was. 

     “Arthur. Arthur Morgan,” He responded, gruffly, “Yourself, madam?”

     “Um, ____ ____,” you replied, “thank you for… helping me. I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

     “Don’t thank me just yet, we haven’t left the city, the Lawmen could still be after us,” Arthur said, “So what’d you do anyway?”

     “I.. are you sure you wanna know? It's not very pleasant..” You mumbled, feeling guilty for your crime. 

     “Sweetheart, I assure you I’ve done my fair share of unpleasant things. Things that definitely didn’t go unnoticed by them lawmen,” Arthur tried reassuring. 

     “I killed my fiancé,” You said meekly, chewing on your lip. You hadn’t come to terms with what you did just yet. 

     “Did you now? Why’s that?” Arthur asked, an amused smirk on his face. 

     “He was a.. bad man. Never took no for an answer if you know what I mean..” You answered, your voice quiet.

     “Well, sweetheart, some people in this godforsaken world are just scumbags. So to that I say, good riddance. You did us all a favor,” He joked. 

     “Mr. Morgan!” You gasped, chuckling at his words. 

     It had been a few months since you’d joined the gang. After your encounter with Arthur, he decided to bring you back with him seeing as you had nowhere else to go. The women of the gang took a liking to you immediately, teasing you about coming from a rich family. Dutch was skeptical about you, not being very fond of rich folk. Hosea on the other hand was more welcoming, making sure you felt like you belonged. You liked Hosea. 

     Arthur spent the most time with you. You liked him the most. He would bring you flowers that he picked back from wherever he went during the day, and you’d tease him about going soft despite being an outlaw. Everyone in the gang knew you two had formed a special bond. Everyone in the gang had also forgotten to tell you about how sensitive Arthur was about his journal. 

     Arthur had asked you to fetch gun oil from his tent and as you were about to leave, your gaze drifted to his journal, lying open on his cot. Your interest was piqued. You knew you shouldn’t snoop but you couldn’t help it. You reached for the journal, inspecting the drawings on the pages. Your eyes widened in surprise. 

     “Is that.. me?” You muttered to yourself, bringing the journal closer to your face. Multiple sketches of your face were on the pages. Your facial features were captured beautifully, each drawing with its own caption underneath with the date he drew them. Your face flushed at a particular caption stating the words ‘Pretty ____’. 

     Before you could stop yourself, you were flipping to the next page, this time seeing writing. 

     I don’t know what it is about her. She makes me feel like a good man, I didn’t think that was possible. I’ve done terrible things. Killed, robbed, other shit I don’t even remember. She’s better than me. Way better. I told myself I wouldn’t allow myself to love again, but she made me break that promise. I think—

     “____?” Arthur opened the tent flap, walking in. You jumped, startled. The journal was still in your hand, and your face was absolutely flushed. 

     “You were takin’ too long so I came to check...” Arthur trailed off as his brow furrowed when he saw what you were holding. He was silent. He walked up to you, took the journal from your hands, closed it, and set it back on his cot. 

     “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go through my things, ____,” Arthur said, tone too serious. He turned to leave the tent, taking the gun oil which you had forgotten about when you grabbed his wrist. 

     “Arthur, wait. We should talk-“ You tried to say before he pulled his wrist away. 

     “I’ve nothin’ to say,” He walked out of the tent, going to sit by the main campfire to clean his guns. You left his tent as well, feeling guilty. He loved you and you just invaded his privacy. You felt horrible. Tilly, one of the girls at camp saw Arthur’s face as he left the tent and turned to you. 

     “Oh girl, what’d you do?” She asked, placing a hand on your shoulder, urging you to sit with her on one of the many tables around camp. 

     “I read his journal…” You confessed, your chest feeling tight. 

     “That boy.. if he don’t want anyone readin’ his journal, he should stop bein’ so careless with it!” Tilly noticed your face, you looked so confused. 

     “Tilly.. I think Arthur has feelings for me..” you said quietly, as if you were still processing the new information. 

     “Well ‘course he does! Everyone in this damn camp knows! About time you found out..” Tilly laughed. 

     “What do you mean everyone knows? He’s said it?” 

     “Well no, but you should see the way that boy looks at you. He looks like a teenager in love,” Tilly giggled, “And the fact that he didn’t lash out at you for touchin’ his journal says a lot.”

     “What do you mean by lash out? He’s done that before?” You asked.

     “Yeah. Now I wasn’t around back then but I heard from Ms. Grimshaw that when Arthur was foolin’ around with that Mary girl back then, John read his journal and Mr. Morgan tried swingin’ at him,” Tilly spoke in a hushed voice. 

     “Mary?” You didn’t want to be jealous of a woman you’d never met. Especially not after seeing how much Arthur liked you. 

     “Mhm. You don’t need to worry ‘bout her though, I know he’s only got you in his mind,” Tilly teased. You playfully hit her shoulder, a grin making its way on your face. 

     “He draws me.. in his journal.. I saw so many pictures. He wrote that I’m pretty,” Your face was still flushed, “What do I do, Tilly? He’s… he’s mad at me.”

     “I think you should wait a bit, give him space. Let him cool off. He’s prolly more scared of your reaction to his feelings rather than bein’ mad at you for touchin’ his journal,” Tilly said, carressing your hand to calm you down. 

     You thanked Tilly for her help and walked to your own tent, glancing at Arthur on the way who paid no attention to you. He looked almost nervous. Maybe Tilly was right, you thought. 

     That night, neither you nor Arthur got any sleep. You were trying to figure out a way to approach him and Arthur was bracing himself for your reaction. You had feelings for Arthur as well, strong ones. Ever since he brought you that first flower, the look on his face made you fall instantly. He was so awkward, completely out of character for a tough outlaw. You felt a small smile make its way onto your face at the memory. 

     The next morning, Arthur avoided you. Anytime you even looked at him he turned away. At one point, when you had tried waving to him, he dragged poor Lenny away to go hunting. You frowned, upset that he was trying so hard to avoid you. 

     “This is hilarious,” you heard Javier say from where he was strumming idly on his guitar while leaning on a tree. You narrowed your eyes at him, not appreciating his amusement at your situation. 

     “He keeps avoiding me,” you huffed, walking closer to the man, not wanting the entire camp to hear about your business even if you were sure they already knew.

     “Yeah well, Morgan ain’t exactly a ladies' man,” Javier chuckled.

     “What, like you are?” You teased, crossing your arms before walking away to busy yourself. You heard a scoff behind you, pleasant guitar chords following behind. 

     Once Arthur returned, he made a beeline for Pearson’s wagon. He emptied his satchel, dropping off all the meat he and Lenny had collected, who speaking of which, looked exhausted. 

     You peeked your head out from your tent when you heard Ms. Grimshaw scolding Arthur. 

     “Look at the boy, Mr. Morgan! He looks exhausted! What were you boys up to?” She was loud, the entire camp could hear their conversation. Arthur only chuckled in response.

     “Lenny’s fine, Ms. Grimshaw,” He said, swinging his satchel over his shoulder. 

     “He sure don’t look fine. Well anyway, you better make up with ____, the girls been poutin’ all day—“

     “Ms. Grimshaw, I appreciate the concern, but it ain’t any of your business,” Arthur interrupted. He hadn’t thought of how to handle interacting with you yet. He tipped his hat to the woman before walking away to the edge of Horshoe Overlook, sitting on the rock Strauss normally sat at during the day. Most of the gang members had gathered near the main campfire, eager to enjoy the feast Pearson was preparing with the meat Lenny and Arthur had brought back. 

     Noticing Arthur was finally alone, you slowly approached the man. You were thankful it was dark, you and Arthur wouldn’t draw too much attention should anything happen. 

     Before you could so much as get near the man, Dutch slipped beside him. You groaned, shoulders slumping as you retreated, going to join the rest of the gang at the campfire. 

     The night continued just as you’d expected. Arthur stayed far away from you while you kept trying to get near him. Once you felt the night had stretched out for far too long, you bid farewell to the ladies, thanked Pearson for the meal, and headed back to your tent. 

     “Tomorrow.. I’ll sort this out tomorrow..” You muttered to yourself as you drifted off to sleep. 

     When morning came, rays of sunlight squeezed through the gap in the tent flaps, hitting your resting face. Your eyes fluttered open as you lay, your eyes adjusting to the small amount of light. 

     You stretched, slipping out of your chemise and into your day clothes, ready to start your day. You headed toward Pearson’s wagon to get yourself some breakfast, feeling absolutely famished. 

     “Mornin’, ____!” Mary-Beth greeted. You smiled at her in return as she poured herself a cup of coffee. 

     “Now, the girls and I, or, well I suppose just me and Karen, were wonderin’ if you wanted to come with us down to Valentine. We tried asking Tilly as well but lord knows what Ms. Grimshaw has her doin’ today.” 

     Well shit. You’d wanted to fix things with Arthur today. 

     “Mr. Morgan is taking us,” Mary-Beth added on, as if she knew what you were thinking. You felt flustered, heat creeping up your neck. 

     “Ah well, either way I’d be happy to go.. It’s been a while since I left the camp anyhow.” Mary-Beth was delighted with your answer, even though she knew it was mainly because of Arthur. 

     “Mr. Morgan! ____’s comin’ with us!” Mary-Beth called out, taking your hand in hers as she led you over to the wagon. Arthur didn’t respond, only giving Mary-Beth a curt nod as he stood atop the wagon, extending a hand to help her up. The wagon shook slightly as she sat across from Karen who was eyeing you and Arthur. 

     You looked up at Arthur and watched as he sighed. He swallowed his nerves and helped you up as well, letting you sit beside the other two girls while he sat in the driver's seat, holding the reins in his hand. Karen let out a laugh at the awkward exchange, nudging you in the shoulder as Arthur began leading the horses to Valentine. 

     The short trip from Horshoe Overlook to Valentine was bumpy. Once Arthur parked the wagon, he helped you and the girls get down safely. You had to turn your face away immediately to hide how red your face was. 

     “I’mma head over to the gunsmith, you ladies better stay outta trouble,” Arthur said as he began walking away. You were tempted to follow him but chose to stay with the others. 

     Karen had dragged both you and Mary-Beth over to the saloon for drinks, claiming that you and she needed to have more fun. 

     “Hey Mister, three beers,” Karen ordered, a grin on her face. 

     “You sure, Karen? You get kinda wild when you drink,” Mary-Beth chuckled. The bartender slid three bottles over to you and the girls, each of you taking one. 

     “Oh what the hell,” you muttered, taking a swig. The girls cheered, laughing at the face you made at the beer’s taste. 

     As the day went on, you and the girls got yourselves a table in the corner of the Saloon to privately chat. Arthur had busied himself with some errands and hadn’t spoken to you all day. You frowned at the thought, just wanting a chance to be with him in private for a moment. 

     “So, ____, what’s goin’ on with you and Arthur?” Karen asked you, her beer bottle clanking against the table as she set it down. 

     “It’s… complicated,” you answered, not wanting to get into it. 

     “Is it? ‘Cuz y’all look like idiots in love to me. He needs to grow a pair already,” she scoffed, Mary-Beth nodding in agreement. 

     Just as you were about to speak, a gruff voice interrupted. 

     “Can I buy you a drink, madam?” You turned to look at the man talking to you—he looked to be quite old. The two girls looked amused as they waited for your answer. 

     “No thank you, I’ve had far too many tonight,” you tried your best to be polite. 

     “Oh don’t be like that, how ‘bout just one, hm?” The girls picked up on your discomfort and stepped in. 

     “Sir, she said no, thank you for the offer,” Karen said in a stern voice. 

     “I ain’t talkin’ to you, woman,” the man snapped. As soon as he tried stepping closer to your table, his body got pulled back. 

     “You heard the lady. Now get,” Arthur’s gaze was locked onto the man, almost daring him to continue. The man stuttered, muttering an apology as he stumbled out of the saloon. 

     “Oh my, Mr. Morgan, look at ya swoopin’ in to save your girl,” Karen teased. Arthur ignored her words, shifting his gaze to you. 

     “You okay?” He asked, the concern in his voice evident. 

     “I’m okay. Thank you,” Arthur nodded. 

     “Good. I think you ladies have had enough for today,” he said, leading you and the girls out of the saloon and back to the wagon. 

     The ride back to camp was silent, none of you uttering a word. The tension between you and Arthur was thick, the girls easily picking up on it. Arthur parked the wagon on the side of the trail leading to camp, helping Karen and Mary-Beth down. 

     “Hey, uh.. do you wanna maybe go for a ride?” The words just tumbled out of your mouth before you could decide if asking that was a good idea or not. Arthur looked a bit surprised while you silently hoped he was ready to talk about whatever was going on between the two of you instead of avoiding you. 

     You noticed Karen making vulgar thrusting motions from the corner of your eye, glaring at her before turning your gaze back to Arthur. He exhaled sharply through his nose before answering.

     “Sure,” he grabbed the side of the wagon and pulled himself back up to the driver's seat. You chuckled awkwardly and pulled yourself up next to him. Arthur turned the wagon around, heading back down the trail, away from camp. 

     The two of you sat in silence, the only sounds being the leaves rustling in the wind and the horses trotting. The awkwardness was killing you, wanting nothing more than to just blurt out your feelings. 

     “Lovely…uh, weather we’re having, no?” You cringed at your own question. Arthur didn’t respond verbally, only grunting. 

     “Could I try driving?” You asked, knowing he’d have to respond in some way now. 

     “Really?” Arthur raised a brow in amusement. You weren’t the best driver by any means, having almost crashed a wagon or two the last few times you tried, “Alright, sure.”

     You took the reins from Arthur, the ghost of a grin on your face as you mentally celebrated the small victory. Now that you had the reins you felt it was the right time to talk. You led the wagon off the path and into a trail leading to he forest. Arthur glanced at you from the corner of his eye in confusion but chose not to say anything. 

     “Um, okay, now that we’re alone and you can’t avoid me, let’s talk,” you said, looking around you to make sure you both truly were alone. When the coast was clear you dropped the reins and turned to face him. 

     “Talk?” Arthur could sense where this conversation was leading, his shirt collar suddenly feeling too tight. 

     “I should start by apologizing…” You began, “I shouldn’t have gone through your journal. It was an invasion of privacy, and not okay.” 

     Arthur didn’t say anything. You were chewing your lip, nervous. You were about to say something else before he spoke up. 

     “S’alright.”

     ‘That’s good! He responded, We’re getting somewhere!’ You internally celebrated. 

     “Okay, I uh.. I guess we should talk about.. what I saw,” you said cautiously. You felt Arthur go stiff beside you. 

     “Yeah?” He was playing dumb. 

     “I feel the same,” You blurted out. ‘Shit, was that too straightforward?’ You didn’t wait for him to respond, instead continuing to speak, “I mean, unless I assumed wrong-“ 

     Arthur was speechless. Was he hearing things? He couldn’t believe that you wanted him too.

     “Are you serious?” He asked, looking at you in the eyes for the first time. 

     “Yeah. I’ve been trying to talk to you for the past couple of days to try and figure out how you felt. I wanted to see if you were actually mad at me or if it was something else…” You said, fidgeting with the fabric of your dress. 

     “I ain’t mad at you,” Arthur began, “I was.. I s’pose scared. It’s been a while since I’ve felt like this. I was afraid of how you’d react to what you read.”

     You swore your stomach just did a backflip. Arthur took your hands in his, almost chuckling at the differences. His were much larger and calloused, while yours were smaller, softer. 

     “I wanna be with you, ____. If you’ll have me,” Arthur said, feeling vulnerable. Confessing his feelings for you was hard for him but he was trying his best. You deserved the best.

     “Of course I’ll have you… I wanna be yours, Arthur,” You smiled, one of your hands cupping the side of his face. He leaned into the warmth of your palm, in awe at how he got so lucky. 

     “Are you sure you want someone like me, sweetheart? I ain’t a good man,” Arthur muttered, his tone filled with self-deprecation. 

     Having had enough of him constantly putting himself down, you gripped his shirt collar tight in one hand and pulled him forward. Arthur’s eyes widened as he felt your lips on his. He let his hands rest on your waist, pulling you closer gently, handling you oh so carefully. 

     Kissing Arthur felt heavenly, you felt warmth in your chest from just how gentle he was being, holding you so lovingly. You almost whined when he pulled away, forgetting that if you wanted to continue you both would need air. 

     You noticed that the tips of his ears had turned red, making you try your hardest to bite back a giggle. Arthur didn’t know what about that moment made him snap, but all of a sudden he was all over you. 

     Your amusement got cut short by his lips crashing onto yours, the only difference this time was that you felt his pure need for you. One hand tugged on his hair while the other gripped his shoulder tighter. Both of his hands were on the sides of your face, pulling you impossibly closer as he kissed you like you were the only thing that mattered. And you were, right now, the only thing that mattered to him was making sure you knew just how badly he wanted you; how much he craved you. 

     “You sure you want this?” Arthur pulled away, muttered against your kiss-swollen lips. You reached up, taking his hat off and running your hand through his hair. 

     “I want this. I want you,” Arthur swore he could feel butterflies at how sure you sounded. At that, Arthur crawled into the wagon, his body leaning against the back wall as he pulled you on top of him. Your dress became bunched up around your waist as you moved to straddle him properly, caging his legs with your own. 

     Arthur tangled his hand in your hair, pulling you in for another kiss, groaning into your mouth when he felt your hand trailing down his torso. You felt the heat radiating from his body through his shirt, making your hips subconsciously roll against his. Arthur’s breath hitched, trailing his kisses along your jaw and then down your neck. Every few kisses he’d stop to suck, searching for your sweet spot. 

     You giggled at the feeling of his stubble tickling your neck, feeling him smirk against your skin. He nipped at one spot in particular which earned him a gasp, one of your hands fisting the hem of his shirt. Arthur placed his hands on your waist, moving you to straddle his thigh as he experimentally rocked you against him. 

     “Fuck-“ you let out a shaky exhale, gripping his shoulders as you let him grind you against his thigh. Arthur watched your face, eyes glued to the way your cunt was leaving a wet spot on his pants. It was like he was pussydrunk without having even touched you properly. 

     “Arthur..” You sounded so needy, the sound of your voice going straight to his core. The friction between your clothed cunt and his thigh was too good yet not enough at the same time. You were slightly embarrassed at how lewd you were acting, grinding yourself against his thigh. 

     “I got you. Jus’ like that, doin’ so good f’me,” Arthur praised, one of his hands coming up to tug the neckline of your dress down. Arthur sucked at your collarbone, leaving small marks which he knew you’d scold him about later. 

     “Please.. I need more..” you weakly pleaded. Arthur’s cock throbbed in his pants, obsessed with the way you were begging for him. 

     “Look at you, first makin’ a mess on me then beggin’ for more. Dirty girl,” He chuckled lowly. Arthur leaned back and brought one of his hands between your legs, running his fingers over the damp fabric covering your cunt. 

     Arthur smirked when he heard your quiet whimper as he tugged your underwear to the side. Arthur looked at your face, waiting for confirmation to continue or not. Once you nodded, he brought his thumb to your clit, pressing down gently before rubbing in slow circles. 

     “This okay?” He asked, checking your body language for any signs of discomfort as he slowly slipped one finger into your entrance. You nodded eagerly, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. 

     “I need words, pretty girl,” Arthur said, moving his finger in and out at a frustrating pace. 

     “It’s good- I.. I n-need more..” You were trying so hard to keep yourself together; it was like you were putty in his hands. 

     “Where’d your manners go? No please?” He teased, slipping in one more finger as he began to move his fingers at a faster speed, “You’re grippin’ me so tight.. fuck.”

     You began to grind your cunt against his hand, his palm grazing your clit with each roll of your hips. 

     “Yeah, jus’ like that, ride my fingers. You’re doin’ so good, sweetheart,” Arthur murmured. He curled his fingers inside you, causing your back to arch, pushing your tits in his face. 

     “Oh, fuck!” You cried out. Arthur reached his free hand behind you, unzipping your dress and pulling it down far enough to reveal your brassiere. 

     “You’re such a pretty lil’ thing..” he whispered as he unfastened your bra, your breasts now exposed to him. He cupped one of them in his hands, a shiver running down your spine when his thumb ran across your nipple. You whimpered when he brought his mouth to your nipple, sucking gently, gaze locked on your expression.

     “Ah- mmh- I’m close, Arthur-“ He swore he felt his cock twitch in his pants at the sound of you whining his name. He left your nipple with a wet pop, bringing his hand back down to rub faster circles on your swollen nub. 

     “Yeah? You’re gonna cum? Good girl,” Arthur doubled down on his efforts, pinching your clit to finally push you over the edge. 

     You bit down harshly on his shoulder, trying your hardest to conceal your moan, knowing it would be far too loud. Arthur continued moving his fingers inside you, letting your orgasm draw out. He removed his hand from underneath you, the lewd squelch making you feel flushed. 

     You rested your forehead on his shoulder, breathing heavy as you came down from your high. Arthur rubbed your back soothingly with his clean hand, licking your juices off the other. 

     “You did so good, sweetheart. Taste good too,” Arthur grinned. Although you had just come all over his hand, you weren’t done yet. And from the way Arthur’s erection was poking your thigh, you had a feeling he wasn’t either. You sat back on his thighs, tugging on his shirt, indicating you wanted it off. 

     “Yeah? My needy girl still wants more?” Arthur gently flipped the two of you over, making it so you lay resting on the floor of the wagon as he kneeled in between your legs. You propped yourself up on your elbows, bottom lip in between your teeth as you watched him undress. 

     Arthur smirked as your eyes followed his hands as they carefully unbuttoned his shirt. Carefully, he lifted your head and placed his bunched-up shirt underneath to make you slightly more comfortable. Your heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness, pulling him down to kiss him. 

     Arthur helped you fully out of your dress, taking a moment to fully appreciate your beauty. You felt vulnerable under his gaze, but at the same time so loved. Arthur gently picked up your left leg, placing it over his shoulder while pressing chaste kisses onto your skin. His fingers fumbled with his belt, tugging it off and setting it behind him. 

     He pulled out his cock, his angry tip leaking shiny droplets of precum. You swallowed down your nervousness and wrapped your hand around the base, watching Arthur’s face as he threw his head back with a groan. You gave his cock a few experimental pumps, your thumb rubbing over his slit, spreading his precum around. 

     “Fuck, baby.. no more teasing…” Arthur murmured, wrapping his hand around the one stroking him, stopping you. He leaned forward, arms on either side of your head as he guided his length to your entrance. You bit down on your lip in anticipation, your legs spread wide open for him.

     “Tell me if it hurts, yeah?” Arthur kissed your cheek before slowly pushing in, groaning at the way your cunt was squeezing him. Your jaw fell slack, eyebrows furrowing as you clawed at his back. 

     “Ah shit, sweetheart, you’re squeezin’ the life outta me,” He grunted, pulling his hips back slightly then pushing all the way. 

     “F-fuck, Arthur!” You felt tears cloud your vision at the intrusion. 

     “Greedy pussy’s suckin’ me in, you’ve been wantin’ this all day haven’t you?” Arthur spoke lowly, pushing in and out of you at a slow pace, letting you adjust to his size. 

     “Y-yes,” you dumbly agreed, “faster- please..”

     “Yeah? My needy baby wants me to go faster?” Arthur chuckled, snapping his hips into you sharply. You cried out, leaving crescent shapes on his shoulders from your nails, “You still needa be punished for touchin’ my journal without my permission, don’t you, sweetheart?”

     “I-I apologized,” you struggled to speak as he maintained a fast pace, the leg on his shoulder allowing him to reach much deeper. 

     “You did, but I find forgivin’ you this way more fun,” he teased. He kept up a mean pace, making sure you’ll be bruised enough to remember this for a few days at least. 

     “Ah- mmh- hah- Arth-Arthur.. please-“ you didn’t even know what you were pleading for. 

     “Please? Please what, baby? My girl’s cockdrunk already?” His words made you clench down on him, making him shudder, “perfect. You’re so perfect.” 

     He muttered praises under his breath, bringing one hand to your clit, rubbing quick circles. You were seeing stars, your hips bucking as you felt the coil in your stomach close to snapping. 

     “Gonna- ‘m gonna cum,” you warned. 

     “Do it, sweetheart, cum for me, I got you,” Arthur’s pace faltered slightly as he felt his orgasm nearing as well, “Shit I’m close too, where d’you want it, baby-“

     “I-inside, please- mmh,” You wrapped your other leg around his waist, pulling him closer. 

     “F-fuck, you can’t just.. you sure, baby?” Arthur leaned down, pecking your lips. You finally felt the coil snap, your back arching as you gushed over his cock. 

     Seeing your face as you climaxed was all it took for Arthur to reach his as well, holding your hand in his as he came in you. 

     “You did so good, darling. Beautiful, I’m a lucky bastard,” Arthur peppered kisses all over your face as you came down from your high, breathing heavy. He let your leg down from his shoulder and grabbed a cloth from his satchel, using it to clean you up. He gently cleaned you combined juices off your thighs, smirking at your fucked out state. 

     You lay on the floor of the wagon, staring up at the sky, watching birds fly through the deep orange. You doubted Arthur dealt with people touching his Journal like the way he dealt with you, but you’d never been happier. 

     Once you both got dressed, Arthur turned the wagon around, leading you both back to camp. A content smile on his face while you leaned your head on his shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut from exhaustion. Arthur pressed a kiss onto the side of your head, feeling at peace for the first time in a long while. Although he was overjoyed with the outcome, he’d definitely learned to be more careful with his journal.

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crossposted on ao3 under @mishmasho

[mishmasho]

Peeta Mellark x Reader NSFW

In this NSFW AU, you are the victor alongside Peeta in the 74th annual Hunger Games. This story takes place a week after you come back to District 12, and Peeta has something to confess..

Additional tags : aged up characters, sub!peeta, dom!reader, nipple play, dacryphilia, overstimulation, pleading, aftercare

—————————————————————————

You glance outside your room in the Victors Village, taking in the view of the dull blue sky with clouds covering the sun. Today was a morally grey day for you. Despite winning the Games, you had no family to come back to, nobody to share your riches with. Nobody even bothered to stop by.

That is, until Peeta Mellark was standing outside your door with a basket full of bread in his arms. You watched him for a few seconds, fathoming that someone was actually at your house.

“Peeta?” You ask, befuddled. “What’re you doing here?”

“Just dropping off some fresh loaves,” Peeta smiles warmly. “Could I come in?”

“Yeah,” you say, a little too fast. You clear your throat, and say it once again, “yeah.”

—————————————————————————

Before you know it, Peeta’s already gotten you to sit down and has smeared the loaves with butter on a plate, ready to eat.

“Wow,” you say, eating a slice of the bread. Still warm, you think to yourself.

Peeta lets out a small chuckle, sitting opposite of you. “I’m glad you like it. I find myself baking a lot after coming back home.”

You take a pause from shovelling down the food and look at him.

“How are you? Y’know, after the Games,”

“I think i’ve just been keeping to myself recently.” Peeta says curtly. “The only thing that helps take my mind off of it is, well, you.”

“Me?” you say, taken aback yet again. Since when was he so bold? Is there another reason for him coming to your house?

“Yeah,” He says, a little flushed. “y/n, I need to tell you somethin-“

“Peeta, do you like me?” You say, suddenly understanding what’s going on here.

His eyelids are completely folded back into his eye sockets when you say this, and it causes him to turn insanely red. He lowers his blonde head bashfully, nodding.

Peeta Mellark. The boy with the bread. This guy, whom you’ve crushed on since the beginning of time was infront of you, a shy, anxious mess.

At first, you just thought he was really cute. Big brown eyes, straight blonde hair, and a smile that could light up the sky. This crush had soon turned into something much, much more once you two had been chosen for the Hunger Games. The glances you’d give each other, the fake dating already in motion, the signs were all there.

You were in love with Peeta Mellark.

“Look, I know it was a long shot, and I don’t expect you to accept my feelings just because I said this, but I hope you’ll at least consider-“ You get up from your seat and cut him off with a kiss which causes him to go completely rigid.

You pull away, licking your lips and relishing in the sight of Peeta completely stunned by this action. “H-hey.. what was that? At least let me-“ Again, rudely interrupted by another smash to his lips.

“You talk too much,” You say, caressing the back of his neck. He shudders, not raising his head. You tilt his chin up with your index and thumb, and you make him look you in the eyes.

“Peeta, I like you too,” You finally say. This simple sentence makes him resemble a deer caught in headlights.

“Don’t joke with me. Don’t just say that because I said it,” Peeta says, choking up. “y/n, I really like you. Don’t lie to me like that.”

“I’m not lying,” you say, but then you catch a glimpse of his teary-eyed face.

“Hey,” You say softly, cupping his cheek in your hand and using your thumb to rub his cheekbone.

“Hi,” He says, sniffling. You smile.

“I do like you. A lot, okay?” You say, giving him a kiss near his eye, where his tears fell. A kiss on his cheek and another on his jaw, making your way down to the nape of his neck. His breath hitches and he lets out a soft gasp, like he wants to set you off.

You try your luck and kiss his collarbone, lightly sinking your teeth into the skin before sucking on it. Peeta flinches, but not before letting out a sound so lewd that it tickles your ear and pushes you away.

“I.. I just need a second,” he breathes, but you’re already slinking your arms around him, making him yelp. You tilt your head and rest your face against his chest, feeling his heartbeat pounding in your skull.

“You.. really like me?” Peeta asks, looking directly in your eyes now.

“Yes, I do,” You say. “Stop asking me the same question.”

Peeta gives you a big grin and repositions himself so he can give you a hug. “This.. is probably the best I’ve felt in a while,”

You hug him back, and then push his chest so he leans back in the chair he’s seated in. You take a seat in his lap, and his legs twitch ever so slightly. “W-what’re you doing?” he asks, obviously intrigued by the way you’re beginning to inch up his sweater. You trail your fingers up and down his upper body, which makes Peeta jerk up and back down every time you get close to his nipples.

“I’m going to make you feel even better than you did just a moment ago,” you say, tracing the outline of his areolas. He lets out the sweetest moan, which makes you want to tease him a bit more.

“Do you like it when I touch you around here?” You say, using your nail to get closer to Peeta’s nipples which are already hardening. You glance at the pink circles and back at him, but he’s breathing so heavily and he’s already covered his face. You smirk, and finally give him what he wants. Using your index and thumb, you pinch his right nipple upwards, which makes his back arch while he literally gasps for air.

“y-y/n, please, what are you doing?” Peeta sputters through his yelps of pleasure. “that f-feels weird.. I don’t like it..”

“Really?” you say, giving the pinkish bud a twist and then flattening your finger pad against it. Peeta’s so flushed, squirming under you, and he’s pleading with you to stop touching his chest.

What do you do? Obviously, keep playing with his chest.

Peeta’s moans are getting noticeably louder as you begin to suck on his left nipple, taking the sensitive bud and swirling it around your tongue before you nibble on it gently, then biting down on it and keeping the tip of your tongue on the very top of his swollen bud.

“A-aagh! y-y/n.. please..” Peeta’s eyes are getting glassy, and you snap out of your daze of playing with his chest. You suck on his nipple once more and release with a pop that has Peeta flinching and jerking upwards. You cup his cheek again and kiss him, slithering in your tongue in while he’s struggling to breathe.

“For someone who doesn’t like the feeling, you sure make some cute sounds when I play with your chest,” You begin to make your way down, pressing against his erection. “look at that, I’ve barely touched you and you’re already hard.”

Peeta’s now a bright shade of pink as he fumbles with his hands, ultimately shielding his face so you can’t see. You smirk, and you yank his dick out, making Peeta groan.

“H-hey..” he begins, but you’re already tracing around the base of his dick, letting your nails trail up the tip and back down again. Peeta’s moving his hips on his own at this point, and you’re wondering if he could cum just like this.

You suddenly grip his cock, causing Peeta to whimper. “Please.. go slow,” he mutters, knowing you’re not going to stop until you have your way with him.

“Of course I’ll go slow,” you say, kissing his cheek. You move up and down slowly. Too slow. You keep at this rate until Peeta looks more relaxed, and then you suddenly pick up the pace, making Peeta exclaim. “T-too fast..” he’s barely getting his words out as you grip tighter and stroke it, pressing on his tip right before-

“I think I’m g-gonna cum.. slow down!” Peeta shivers, sinking into the nape of your neck and suppressing his moans as he ejaculates messily into your hands.

He’s breathing heavily now, finally removing himself from your shoulder, facing you. You lock eyes with him and before he can talk, you begin pumping his dick again, your motions faster than the last time. He looks perplexed for a moment before he pummels his head back into your shoulder.

“I-I just cam- ah.. Stop!..” He sputters, trying to remove your hand from his oh-so sensitive cock, but that only causes you to grip tighter and stroke up and down faster. He’s shaking now and you can feel it through his ragged moans and high-pitched whining.

“I-I can’t take it, y/n, please,” Peeta’s sobbing now, trying so hard not to fall onto the bed. “It’s way too sensitive.”

You steady him, running a hand through his shaggy blonde hair. Just once more, hmm?” You whisper directly into his ear, making his back arch. Reluctantly, he nods.

“Good boy.” You’ve only been using one hand to stroke him, but you now remove your other hand that has been holding him up and plop him onto the bed to palm his tip.

Peeta’s whining and whimpering louder than before, struggling to form words as he pushes his face deep into the foam of the mattress. “N-not the tip.. ah.. please..”

You grin and lick the spot right below his belly button and you grind your palm into his tip even harder as you stroke ferociously fast. Peeta’s eyes look alarmed, like he’s never been touched like this.

“W-wait!” He manages to get out. “Stop! s-stop, I feel weird- I think- I think I’m cumming a-again,” He whines into the sheets, desperately trying to hold in his voice.

You kiss him. “Let it out,” He shivers, and he nods once before diving back into the bed’s covers. “P-please..”

You press his abdomen once, using your other hand to grind his urethra, and he shoots out another load almost immediately. Amazed by the amount he’s let out, you glance up at him.

Peeta’s whole face is tear-streaked, the waterworks still going.

“Hey, you okay?” You ask gently, lifting his back up to support his weight as you pull him into a hug. Peeta nods, squeezing back.

“You’re so mean,” He says, sniffling and wiping away his remaining tears.

You smile before planting another kiss on his head, then his forehead, and then his lips. He pulls away.

“I can’t go another round,” Peeta says, dead serious. You can’t help but laugh.

“Alright,” You say, giving him another kiss.

[mishmasho]

Carlos Oliveira x Fem!Reader

Partners. That’s what Umbrella Corp. refered to them as. Seeming to work together effortlessly in the eye of Umbrella, but behind closed curtains, acting like a bickering married couple. Until one mission gone wrong brought the two together…

Pairing: Carlos Oliveira x Fem!Coworker!Reader

Word Count: 2,285

A/N: I <3 Carlos

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Partners. That’s what Umbrella Corp. refered to them as. Countless missions carried out by the ever so reliable duo. Seeming to work together effortlessly in the eye of Umbrella, but behind closed curtains, acting like a bickering married couple. ____ was witty, charming, brave, and Carlos was…well, childish as ____ called him. The two never seemed to get along.

     “Hes a mindless flirt,” ____ huffed into her phone, ranting to her friend as she jogged on her gym’s treadmill. It was a daily routine for her; being a mercenary called for staying in tip-top shape. Strict diet, scheduled work outs and visits to the gun range. She liked it. It payed the bills.      

     “Yeah? And you’re complaining? Have you seen his face?” ____’s friend, Oliver, replied. He wasn’t aware of ____’s unethical occupation, oblivious to the global threats Umbrella had created. ____ never bothered to disclose information regarding her job, simply stating that she was involved in government related things that required her to be physically fit.

     “Oliver, you gotta know that my job has no time for shit like flirting,” ____ began, “It’s too risky and Carlos doesn’t understand that! One slip up, one wrong move, even one second makes all the difference between life and death.”

     “Okay, woah. First of all, what? Are you sure this job is legal?” Oliver questioned, trying to lighten the mood. Unbeknownst to him, ____’s job was far from legal, “Second of all, I think you’re trying too hard to push him away! I think he just likes you, and you’re scared of that.” ____ didn’t like how well Oliver knew her. She muttered a string of curses before hanging up. She continued her workout with an evident frown on her face, causing others around her to keep their distance, fearing the scary woman occupying the treadmill.

     ____ and Carlos were part of U.B.C.S, or Umbrella Bioterrorism Counterattack Service, designed to carry out rescue operations to limit damage in the event of a virus outbreak. Although these outbreaks happened quite frequently all over the world, in the eye of the public, Umbrella was nothing but a simple pharmaceutical company. They had hidden their true intentions under a perfectly crafted mask, keeping the world unaware of how much of a threat they truly were.

     One unfortunate day at headquarters, Carlos and ____ were called in to to wait for their next mission. A sample of a newly developed virus had been handled improperly, causing a minor outbreak in one of the many labs Umbrella operated in North America. Due to the minimal casualties, only the duo had been deployed as the higher-ups believed it would be unnecessary to send more mercenaries than needed.

     “You scared, sweetheart?” Carlos teased. Him and ____ were sitting in a helicopter, waiting to land in the city where the lab was. ____ rolled her eyes at his comment, tired of his teasing. She wasn’t scared, she’d been far too used to the horrors that came with dealing with bioterrorism; the truth is, she’d been thinking about what Oliver had said on their phone call a couple days prior. Did Carlos really like her? He couldn’t. He flirted with every girl around him.

     “You wish,” ____ smirked. Carlos snickered at her reply, readjusting the straps on his utility belt. He could sense something was off. He’d been working with ____ long enough to know when something was wrong, and he was smart enough to know not to push.

     “This’ll be an easy one, yeah? Go in, contain the virus, find survivors, and make it out in one piece, easy,” Carlos sighed, glancing over at ____. She was.. beautiful. And he’d told her so on many occasions, though they were always said in a flirty manner which he assumed had no impact on her due to how often he acted like that.

     Carlos was dead wrong. The mission was far from easy. The two had stepped one foot into the facility and had quickly realised that Umbrella had greatly underestimated the magnitude of the outbreak. The stench of freshly burnt flesh lingered in the hallways, glass had been broken, the tiled floor had been cracked, and waiting to give the duo a warm welcome was a mutated scientist.

     “Ugh, poor guy..” ____ muttered, keeping her grip on her punisher steady. Carlos took one step forward before the mutated man sent a slimy tendril flying towards his torso. Carlos reacted quickly, grabbing his combat knife and slashing the tendril clean off. ____ took that moment as an opportunity to send three quick shots to the mutation’s chest. Gooey blood oozed out of the wounds, making Carlos gag as he stepped over the mass of flesh that has just attacked them. ____ sent one more bullet into the mutation’s head for good measure, before heading forward with her partner.

     “Uh.. hello? Anyone.. alive?” ____ called out, hoping for a response from a potential survivor. As the two journeyed onward, they came across various infected scientists, rats and other test subjects before finding the storage facility where the outbreak had originated.

     “How do we go about this?” ____ questioned, reloading her gun. Carlos pulled up the piece of cloth tied around his neck, a bandana.

     “Cover your mouth. Im assuming this new.. virus.. is some sort of gas. Wouldn’t wanna breathe that stuff in and risk ruining that pretty little face of yours now would you?” Carlos winked, walking forward and busting open the door to the lab using the back of his rifle. ____ did as he said. pulling up her own piece of cloth and tying it around her head. She readied her gun, covering Carlos as she followed him in. Immediately, the two were met with an eerie green gas that filled the lower half of the room. ____ switched on her flashlight, looking around for the briefcase they were told the virus resided in.

     “Got it!” ____ exclaimed, crouching down next to the case. She flicked it open, confirming the presence of the other vials. The two that had caused the outbreak had been shattered, leaving three in the case which ____ carefully sealed up. Carlos stood by, watching her movements. The way her brow furrowd in concentration, the way her fingers worked carefully to secure the clasps that kept the vials protected in the briefcase, the way her hair fell in front of her face so gracefully. He was down bad. ____ stood up, picking up the breifcase and tucking it under her arm, walking over to where Carlos was leaning against the wall.

     “I say we do one quick sweep of the remaining rooms before blowing up the place,” ____ suggested, “I don’t see how else we’d get rid of the gas.”

     “We can get the extraction team to blow it up once they come for us. Right now our main priority is to find survivors if there are any, and get out alive. We can split up to cover more ground.”

     ____ was hesitant to split up, she didn’t know what else might be lurking in these halls. She knew Carlos could handle himself but.. she was worried. Carlos noticed ____’s unease about splitting up and smirked.

     “Now don’t worry, i’m not gonna die on you and leave you in a cold, cruel, Carlos-less world..” He said before walking off to look for more survivors.

     ____ watched him leave, holding in a laugh. “Ridiculous..” she muttered. She roamed the halls, keeping an eye out for survivors, while simultaneously staying deep in thought. Carlos Oliveira..proud mercenary working under U.B.C.S. as a corporal. Carlos who was fifth born to seven brothers, Carlos who learned how to hand Soviet heavy weapons in his teens, the same Carlos who had wiggled his way into ____’s caged heart.

     All of a sudden, ____ heard a loud bang.

     “FUCK!” She heard from the same direction.

     “Carlos!?” ____ immediately turned around and ran towards the direction she had seen Carlos walk in. No, not him! Shit! ____ checked to make sure her combat knife was in an easily accessible location on her belt and that her gun was fully loaded. Once she turned the corner, the grip on her gun tightened. Carlos was backed against a corner, a bigger version of the mutant they saw earlier was slowly walking towards him.

     “Nice of you to show up..” Carlos said, his eyes locked on the mutant, “Handguns don’t work on it, found that out the hard way. You got a shotgun? It swiped my rifle, greedy bastard.”

     ____ gave a short nod at his words, switching out her punisher for her shotgun which she was carrying on her back and aiming for the mutants head. As she was about to shoot—

     “Watch out!”

     The mutant whipped its head in ____’s direction, knocking her off of her feet using a slimy tendril. The mutant snarled, wrapping its tendril around her leg and yanking her toward itself. Carlos couldn’t just stand by and watch, he tried reaching for his knife but much to his surprise, the mutant shot out another tendril. Sharper, longer. It pierced straight through Carlos’s upper thigh, stopping his movements.

     “Ah!” Carlos cried out.

     “Carlos!” ____ kicked at the tendril repeatedly until it eventually gave up, giving her a chance to get her shotgun and shoot the mutant. Carlos, groaned in pain as he reached for his pockets.

     “Here!” Carlos tossed ____ a small grenade. It was perfect for causing harm to small area, not big enough to hurt anything but the target. ____ caught the grenade, opening it with her teeth and rolling it towards the mutant. Carlos had to hold in a giggle. He was into that. Once the grenade exploded, the mutant stumbled. ____ used this opportunity to take down the mutant once and for all using her shotgun.

     Once the mutant fell, ____ sighed in relief. She swung her shotgun over her shoulders before she heard a groan.

     “Oh no- Carlos..” ____ immediately rushed to him, crouching beside him. He winced in pain as ____ ripped off part of her shirt and used it to apply pressure to the wound.

     “Carefull.. It went straight through..” Carlos panted, his hand balled up in a tight fist as he surpressed any sounds of weakness. ____ felt bad. She gently took one of his hands, urging him to press on his wound as she pulled out gauze from her small satchel. She wrapped it around the cloth, wincing as Carlos bit down on his lip.

      “We need to get you out of here. You’re in no position to—“ ____ froze when she saw his eyes fluttering, drifting in and out of consciousness. Her eyes widened as she tried connecting to HQ using her codec-style communication device.

     “No, no, no! Carlos, stay with me!” He was losing too much blood, his body falling limp as he fell unconscious. ____ cursed under her breath, not knowing what to do. She furiously tapped her device, sighing in relief once she heard it crackle to life.

     “Agent ____ to HQ, come in?” ____ said, holding the gadget up to her mouth.

     “This is HQ, copy. Status update?”

     “Um.. Agent Oliveira has been injured, we need the extracting team to come get him, over.”

     “And the briefcase?” ____ furrwed her brows in frustration. Thats so typical of HQ to care more about the viruses than the wellbeing of their loyal mercenaries.

     “—Has been secured, over.” ____ responded.

     “Copy that, the extraction team has been deployed. Head to the extraction point ASAP, over and out.” The device pinged with the notification of the coordinates of the extraction point. ____ mustered up all the strength she could, putting one of Carlos’s arms around her shoulders as she tried her best to carry him over to the extraction point.

     Where am I? Carlos slowly regained consciousness, staring up at blinding white lights. His body ached, his head ponded, unable to recall what landed him in this state.

     “Carlos!” He felt a pair of arms engulf him in a hug far too tight for the condition he was in currently. Carlos winced, his surroundings becoming clearer. White walls, big window, flowers on the side, and… ____. She looked stressed, he noticed; taking in the bags under her _color_ eyes, her messy hair that desperately needed brushing, and her tired yet relieved smile.

     “____...” Carlos whispered.

     “You’re awake..” she replied just as gently, “How are you feeling?”

     “Sore, for the most part,” Carlos chuckled lightly. He knew he had gotten injured on the mission but everything after that was a blur.

     “That’s good. You were out for two whole days, you know?” ____ said, her eyes shifting to the flowers on the side table. A small smile appeared on Carlos’s face; pink peonies, his favorite.

     “I.. I should let you rest,” ____ blurted out. As she was about to stand, Carlos reached for her hand.

     “Thank you.. for the flowers,” He said softly. ____ gazed down at him, an unusual warmth in her chest. Before she had a chance to second guess herself, ____ leaned down and pressed her lips against his. Carlos gasped into the kiss, caught of gaurd. He let one of his hands reach up, tangling in ____’s hair and pulling her closer. When she pulled away, Carlos was breathing heavy, the tips of his ears slightly red. ____ swallowed, pulling herself together.

     “Rest, we can continue once you once you get discharged,” She said, a hint of a teasing tone in her voice. She had accepted her feelings for him and after seeing that look in his eyes, she knew the feelings were mutual. Carlos and ____, partners, in more ways than one.

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crossposted on ao3 under @mishmasho