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chaos-smh · 2 months
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grrr an arranged marriage dutch fic is so tempting to write
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chaos-smh · 2 months
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Dutch Van Der Linde Headcanons
a/n: sorry for the delay in posting! this is probably a bit ooc but dutch is hard to write for phew. hope y'all enjoy!
pairing/s: dutch van der linde x fem!reader
content: suggestive content, smut, dom!dutch, hand kink?, established relationship, d/s dynamics, sub!reader, fluff?, dirty talk
word count: 790 words
minors dni!!🔞
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Dutch can’t keep his hands off you. It almost felt as if there wasn’t a single moment in the day where his dexterous fingers weren’t resting on you, pressing into your supple flesh with his rings cool against your skin. It didn’t matter to him if everybody else was watching when he would crane your neck with his calloused hand and force you to look at him. However, what he savored the most was those moments in the depths of the nights when he would grasp at your flushed face, stifling your breath and muffling your cries of pleasure. The night would usually end with his hands soaked with your own tears and drool. Although, nothing could match your awe for the rings he wore and Dutch loved to tease you about it. “Oh? You want me to keep them on, do you sweetheart?” He would soon have you grasping at him and blushing hard when he curled his fingers inside of you with the cold jewelry soon drenched with your own slick. 
Dutch loves reading to you. Being the type of man that he is, Dutch took a certain pleasure in explaining things to you but he especially enjoyed when he was able to read to you. It surprised him when you had first asked but he was quick to fulfill your request. There was something about the way that the words would roll of his tongue and how his baritone voice would resonate in his chest which you fell in love with. It gave you butterflies when you would rest up against his chest with his arms around you as he read page after page into the late hours of the night. However, you quickly found yourself loosing track of the narrative when you would simply become mesmerized by the way he spoke to you. “You just like my voice, don’t you, my dear?” 
Dutch loves to spoil you. He took pride in the way that he was presented and perceived and he insisted that you should too. The gifts had started off very small but each one came with its own meaning, whether it was romantic or something which would make you to giggle. It became noticeable when the gang started to receive a steady flow of money as bottles of expensive perfume and lavish dresses would find their way to you. He relished in being able to dress you up and show you off like you were his own little doll. However, presents weren’t the only thing that he spoiled you with. Whenever you pleased him enough, he was kind enough to reward you. Dutch would honor you with deep thrusts which would leave you shaking and begging in a puddle of your own pleasure by the end of the night. “You can’t take anymore? But you’ve been such a good girl.”
Dutch always leaves his mark on you. It was clear that Dutch took pride in his work and that included you. There was nothing that gave him more of a thrill than being able to see the chorus of colors that littered your neck after a long night well spent. Your cheeks would burn the next day when you would attempt to go about your daily routine and try to avoid the teasing jokes from the other girls. However, you always caught the smug look and satisfied grin on Dutch’s face as he stood proud with a cigar on his lips and looked over you. Dutch also made it sure that you couldn’t sit. Deep shades of blue and purple smothered your behind as he would smack his ringed hand against the supple flesh for what would feel like hours. He enjoyed watching you waddle around the next day. 
Dutch has a need to always be in control. Whenever Dutch lost control, he always knew at the end of the day that you would be there to submit to him. You would be stupid to challenge his authority or disobey his word. Whether you were strung out over his lap or forced on your knees, he was quick to remind you who was in charge. Your nights together would be spent in deep bliss as he would coax out your submission with long and unforgiving thrusts, making sure to leave you sobbing for your own release. His firm teachings didn’t just remain in the bedroom though, as he made it habit to let everyone know who you belonged to. Dutch adored the blush on your face when you would refer to him as ‘sir’ and he relished in the way you squirmed when he made you sit on his lap.  “Don’t pout now, or do I need to remind you who you belong to.” 
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chaos-smh · 3 months
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new post will be out soon! i’ve been sick & catching up with uni work but i have some things in the works tehe
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chaos-smh · 3 months
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Closure
a/n: i love arthur morgan. this is very angsty. i sorta imagine this as a father/daughter relationship but you're free to interpret :) i would love to make this a longer fic well!
pairing/s: arthur morgan x reader (platonic)
content: mentions of death, grief, lots of angst, cuddly arthur! readers childhood best friend dies and arthur comforts them
word count: 861 words
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Nothing but the flicker of a candle accompanied you as your chest heaved and stuttered with each sob that broke through you. Despite the nearby glow, a certain darkness seemed to shroud you, with your hands shivering against the crumpled piece of paper. Grief had always been a mysterious force that had weaved its way through your childhood but part of you had believed that those days were finally over. From what you had believed, there was hardly anybody left in your life that you held so close to your heart but you had never been so wrong. On some particular day, you had been drawn to the obituaries and there you had discovered that there was in fact someone left. There were hardly any words to describe how the news had left you but you knew that something inside of you had changed. You had always believed that the only form of grief was sadness, with melancholy people shrouding graves and draped in black but nothing could prepare you for the bitter waves of guilt that rattled you. However, with your current occupation, you were forced to bury your grief and managed to cover your mixed emotions with a certain tilt of your hat. You managed to retain your reputation in the gang but the sacrifice you made was becoming too much to handle. The dreary nights grew darker and longer with your heavy heart seeming to suffocate you as you would watch the sun rise day after day.
A brisk cough managed to bring you back towards the glow of the candle, your eyes stuttering through the darkness and towards the entrance of your tent. Part of you desperately wanted to maintain your guard and push through the pain but it suddenly felt too difficult.
“Arthur- I,” You croaked out. “This is too much.”
“Come ‘ere, kid” The older man almost sighed, his voice worn out but with a certain tenderness lingering with in it.
Arthur stepped through the tent with his weathered hand cautiously removing his stained hat as he settled down on his knee in front of where you sat on the cot.
Arthur gently grasped at one of your quivering hands with his thumb tracing subtle circles against your palm. For a moment he paused, unsure of what he could say but he was able to notice how quickly you started to settle down in his touch. Tears continued to spill from your eyes but the chorus of broken sobs eventually descended into quiet whimpers.
“I knew something weren’t quite right with you, kid,” He murmured in low voice, being careful not to disturb the secure silence that had formed between you both.
“Now— what’s happened?”
Despite the ache that lingered in your heart and the grief that clouded your own thoughts, it all started to clear as Arthur spoke softly to you. Even when you had first joined the group and everybody had been so sullen towards you with their persistent stares, Arthur had been there to welcome you. He had taught you many things about their way of life but you barely shared any words and you struggled to reach out in a way that you desperately yearned for.
“We grew up together— I loved her,” You sobbed out as you unclenched your fist, revealing the crumbled strip of newspaper.
There were so many words that swarmed in your mind but you struggled to form any kind of coherent sentence to explain what had happened.
Arthur scoured over the brief passage of text where a young girl’s name was printed in bold with the usual proceedings. When his narrowed eyes flickered over the recent date of death, he tightly squeezed your hand and a deep yet steady sigh slipped from his lips.
“I’m real sorry, y/n,” Arthur finally spoke with his words brief yet comforting. It was the way that he uttered your name that caused your heart to finally warm up.
“You come ‘ere now. I ain’t leaving you alone.”
Arthur reached out towards you but before you could say anything, you were pressed up against his chest with both of his sturdy arms wrapped around you. There was something about the way he hugged you that caused another sob to break through your chest but this time you were unable to tell whether it was your own grief or his sudden affection. Your eyes drifted shut as you focused on the steady beat of his heart and the rhythmic crackle of his chest with the echoey noise seeming to lull you back to peace. The stench of leather and burnt tobacco was strong but for a brief moment it reminded you of your distant childhood and you were suddenly back home, basking beneath the sun on your front porch with not a single care in the world. Despite your fractured cries, you both shared a comfortable silence and for once you felt as if you were finally safe again. He traced one of his coarse hands across your back, his actions almost speaking for him. He was there for you and you were beginning to understand that.
“I got you, kid.”
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chaos-smh · 4 months
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do you think william smokes straights or roll ups
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chaos-smh · 1 year
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my funny little brain making taylor swift songs about saul goodman
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chaos-smh · 1 year
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sad to see @anisbaby deleted their blog but i hope their living best life and are well <3
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chaos-smh · 1 year
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Masterlist
a collection of my works! ♡
minors dni with flagged content.
The Mandalorian:
Dreams
Minors dni!🔞 paring/s: Din Djarin x gn! reader - no pronouns used, first-person content: Hand and fingers kink, very subtle allusion to sex, choking, dom/sub dynamic, dirty talk (?)
Far cry 5:
True Faith
paring/s: Seed!family x original child!character content: mentions of abuse, death and depression
Red dead redemption 2:
Closure
pairing/s: arthur morgan x reader (platonic!) content: mentions of death, grief, lots of angst, cuddly arthur! readers childhood best friend dies and arthur comforts them
Dutch Van Der Linde Headcanons
Minors dni! 🔞 pairing/s: dutch van der linde x fem!reader content: suggestive content, smut, dom!dutch, hand kink?, established relationship, d/s dynamics, sub!reader, fluff?, dirty talk
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chaos-smh · 1 year
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Dreams
a/n: Based off a dream I had due to my medication. Just played around with the idea to fit with Din. Not proof-read. Also a quick shout out to @anisbaby cause I don' t think I'd be writing Din smut without their inspo ♡
pairing/s: Din Djarin x gn!reader (no pronouns used! first person)
content: Hand and fingers kink, very subtle allusion to sex, choking, subtle dom/sub dynamic, dirty talk (?)
word count: 627 words
minors dni!!🔞
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Everything seemed like a haze. Noises and thoughts seemed to be blurred out by the feeling of the older man’s hands as they toyed with the strands of my hairs, drifting down the sides of my neck and across my flushed cheeks. They were cold, the feeling of raised scars and rough fingertips almost harsh against my soft skin yet the sensation was almost inviting. After many nights spent lonely and on the brink of sadness, wrapped up in the empty sheets of our bunk, I yearned for the feeling of Din’s hands on my body again and those brisk yet dangerous words that he whispered beneath my ear through the sanctity of his helmet. 
Goosebumps fluttered across my skin as he continued to trace his bare hands across each exposed section of skin, causing subtle noises of overstimulation to slip through my rosy lips and breaking the comfortable silence which had grown between us. An amused grunt followed my soft noises, that baritone sound allowing the heat on my cheeks to burn even stronger. Din was hardly vocal when we were intimate which only made me cherish those subtle moments which he shared.
“Come here, mesh’la.”
I shuffled against the bed, the darkness of the room almost disguising my movements as I inched closer to the hunter, the back of my head resting against his chest as he sat up right in the bed with my body resting between his legs. His coarse hands resumed their place on my bare skin, slowly tracing circles on my heated cheeks with the tips of his heavy fingers seeming to reach further to my parted lips. Another whine slipped from my mouth as the older man continued to tease me, his actions calculated to keep me wanting even more from him. His foreplay always made that sense of desire even more intense, a feeling which I yearned for but it always made me a mess in his sturdy hands. 
“Hm,” Din almost groaned, his voice vibrating in his chest and carrying through my body. It was a noise of almost intrigue as his harsh fingertips dragged across my bottom lip, his thumb resting in the parting.
With a slow and calculated movement, his thumb fully slipped into my mouth, swirling around the damp space and reaching towards the back of my throat. However, before I could savor the feeling of his invasion, his thumb quickly retreated and rested back on my face. 
“Please,” I breathed out in almost a whine, desperately wanting that feeling back. I reached my head back, my watery eyes catching the tip of his helmet which was now tilted to the side with his attention fully focused on my exposed and shifting body. 
“I want y-”
Before I could even finish my words, his rugged and stained hand covered my mouth with two of his fingers dipping back into the open space. My teary eyes widened as his played with the inside of my mouth, his digits touching the back of throat which prompted me to close my mouth around his fingers. As his hand reached further down, a soft moan accompanied his movements which prompted his other hand to wrap firmly around my neck with his fingertips squeezing at the skin. I struggled to breathe between his large fingers but I chased that hazy feeling of losing control. Heat seemed to spread across my body, that feeling of desire forcing me to squeeze my thighs together in an attempt to cease the burning heat of my core yet I could feel myself becoming more vulnerable beneath his stern gaze.
My tongue swirled around his fingers, drool slipping from the corners of my mouth as I yearned for more. I needed more.
“Just you wait, mesh’la.”
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chaos-smh · 1 year
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hi there !
i go by chaos and my pronouns are she/her
i’m 20 and currently in uni! ♡
pfp: szivoszal
currently open for requests!
ao3!
masterlist!
here are some of the fandoms i’m interested in:
— batman (2022 & arkham!)
— red dead redemption 2
— the witcher (netflix and games)
— gotham (fox)
— far cry 5
— the walking dead
— star wars and the mandalorian
— stranger things
i hope you enjoy my blog! ♡
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chaos-smh · 2 years
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True Faith
a/n: A FC5 drabble I found in my drafts. It isn’t proof-read and the story may be a bit all over the place. Apologies if it’s hard to follow but I enjoyed writing it. First post! ♡
pairing/s: Seed!family x original child!character
content: mentions of abuse, death and depression
word count: 1,117 words
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driven by her own hatred and guilt, lilith finally gives in. her mind and soul crumbled beneath the seed family as she struggles to come to terms with her new life. the road ahead of her never looked more rocky
A humble light fluttered through the warmth of the room, settling like golden blossoms on each piece of ornate yet soft furniture it seemed to drift over. The faint yet inviting aroma of food mixed with the steady chorus of chatter accompanied the gentle glow, enveloping the dining room in a fuzz which seemed foreign and distant to the young and demure girl. Her milky white skin seemed sickly against the welcoming shine of the overhead light and her reluctant yet bitter attitude felt like a stranger to the intimate scene. The past few days had seemed to bleed together with a crude series of events leaving a stinging imprint on the mind of the girl, abandoning her thoughts with a potent mixture of guilt and grief; something which was far from the joyous occasion of the Sunday dinner. Lilith's quivering hands folded neatly in her lap, the bruised ends of her fingers gently toying with the icy fabric of her light floral dress. The youthful garment felt pretty in the young girls eyes however, the length exposed pale legs with a colourful array of marks and bruises splattered like paint across her shins. It was embarrassing - the memory of what had happened seemed as fresh as the grazes on her knees.
A gentle breeze pulled the girl back to reality with the subtle chime of plates and cutlery diverting her attention back towards the delicately garnished dining table. Flowers of the garden were intertwined down the centre of the white cloth, the subtle arrangement of lilies and pure roses seeming to settle the bitter sting of fear which had risen within the young girl. It reminded Lilith of the bouquets that she would gift to her mother whilst she was sick but it was enough to bring a small yet meaningful smile to her gentle face. Even if those moments lingered deep in the past, it was the only proof that the girl had a life before whatever twisted situation she found herself in the present and it was a world she could seem to escape to when in her darkest moments. One which was simpler and devoid of not just complexity of growing pains and the ache of grief but also the Seed family.
The smile on the young girls face seem to falter as her pale eyes drifted across the plate in front of her which was positioned neatly on an intricate lace placemat. It was different, they didn't trust her. Plastic cutlery was presented on each side of the plate with even the knife missing from the set and the food was organised with each portion pre-cut and determined. Her stomach sunk as heat pricked at her skin in a mixture of embarrassment but also anger; she couldn't pretend that all was well when chains still resided around her wrists, binding her deep under the control of the family. Lilith broke from her position on the wooden chair with her trembling hands slamming down on the embellished table as her legs wobbled beneath her. Her actions were quickly followed by a more dominant and abrupt force as the oldest of the three brothers reared up, looming over her broken and frightened figure from the opposite side of the table.
Silence shrouded the table as the outburst disrupted the warmth, covering the table in a dense fog of tension which clouded the young girls thoughts and pricked at her soft eyes. The familiar sting of tears grazed her like the skid of innocent knees against concrete as a fractured series of sobs cracked through her empty chest.
"Jacob - Lilith calm down, come with me."
The gentle yet unusual voice of the Father simmered through the ears of the young girl as she felt his scarred hand sink into her own. She could feel herself being quietly ushered away from the decorated scene of the family, her tired feet aching to find a purpose in the woven carpet as tears pooled deep in her wounds. It was a familiar sting which Lilith could easily recall, it was similar to those moments where she was escorted from the classroom because the bruises that day were too dark. It wasn't the conversation which would hurt, it was the embarrassment that resided within it. A distasteful grunt broke the silence which she had left as the sparse murmur of voices seeped through the dining room in her absence. Tears continued to spill from within her pallid eyes as she was settled down against the kitchen counter, the cluttered surface matching the unsettling comfort which seemed to spread through the house. Lilith's hands quivered as they curled deep within the patterned fabric of her dress, her cloudy eyes following each twitch and flicker of her fingers as they desperately attempted to avoid contact with the Father.
"I- I hate- it here!" She sobbed out, her voice rupturing through her throat in a strained cry; one which was clearly distinguishable by any lingering ears. It seemed as if her heart had leaked through her words after what had felt like weeks of swallowing all of her toxic emotions, yet the ache didn't seem to go away.
"I just wanna' fucking go home!"
A firm pair of hands graced Lilith's flushed face yet the invasion felt almost welcoming and warm, she had expected the hands of man so detached and sadistic to match that of the winter storm which ruptured through her mind - but they didn't.
"Lily," Joseph hushed as he grazed his thumbs across the soft scarlet skin of the young girl, catching the tears which cascaded from her eyes.
"God saw a light within you, one which will thrive and burn bright."
Lilith could feel her heavy head guided up the Father's hands with the wet stains residing on her blushed skin shimmering beneath the golden glow of the overhead light, softening her look of distress.
"You're journey has not been an easy one but God has given you a chance, we're here to guide you."
All the young girl could bring herself to do was utter a gentle nod with the calculated words of the Father sinking deep into her thoughts; the prophecy that he had manufactured disturbed her, she couldn't allow herself to think that she was so special.
"No matter how much you are apart of this family and today, I will not allow you to sit in there and suffer like you are," Joseph admitted in a reasoned voice, the tone of his words seeming to falter ever so slightly from its usual mannerism.
"Why don't you go into the sitting room, we'll join you when we're finished little-one."
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