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#Scrub a Claim
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not to be discoursey but I just cannot stress enough that it wouldn't kill anybody to be mindful and kind and not dehumanize others in online spaces, and especially in fandom conversations, and especially especially in conversations about characters who do not exist.
Like there's a world of difference between "Character X is gross" and "Fans of Character X are gross" and there's no need to continually use language like this that only fuels drama.
It costs you nothing to be kind to people and it keeps fandoms so much safer. I've heard Brené Brown talk about this a few times and I super recommend this so we can all check ourselves and make sure we're still being kind.
Humiliation and dehumanizing are not accountability or social justice tools, they’re emotional off-loading at best, emotional self-indulgence at worst. And if our faith asks us to find the face of God in everyone we meet, that should include the politicians, media, and strangers on Twitter with whom we most violently disagree. When we desecrate their divinity, we desecrate our own, and we betray our humanity.
And like. IS FANDOM AS SERIOUS AS THE REAL WORLD OUTSIDE AND ACTUAL FORMS OF VIOLENCE AND OPPRESSION? Of course not.
But I don't think you can have it both ways. This is either your hobby that you spend hours of your day navigating, or it's not that serious. And your online friends are either the people that you have conversations with every day, or they're not. Just because it's a silly hobby doesn't make the time you spend here less real and doesn't mean you need to be shitting all over the carpet in your own house, yeah? There's already enough stigma from the outside world about your nerdy hobby being a stupid waste of time; you don't have to buy into that when you feel so passionate about the things you make, and read, and the friends you talk to every day.
Like, if you want to be that person, if you like starting drama, if you like hurting people's feelings, idk. That's a You Problem. And you need to work on that and it's not my business. That's such an extreme divorce from my values I'm not sure we have anything to gain from each other. But I'm not interested in harming you. I just want to feel like my hobby is a safe place.
Anyway, be nice to people please. 🫶
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pinata-candy · 7 months
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My 7 children who I love very much <3
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im not someone who needs a completely shipshape living space but if the bathroom had stayed that fucking nasty for another day i wouldve killed myself i wish to god i got any help with cleaning
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sege-h · 10 months
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Alright I need to talk about this because its been on and off pissing me off for months since I first saw it, and I've seen it crop up here and there more since.
Some recent events have made me think about it again.
And the recent realizations of people like me that had never heard of a certain queer video essayist thief and how much what he's spewed has been parroted by young queers on here has made me think about it AGAIN.
Though hes not the source of this particular take. I don't know who is.
This take being "twink gets used in the porn industry, so if you use twink to refer to a character whos a minor, youre a bad person that's sexualizing that character"
I've mostly seen this take in the Sonic fandom, but then again its the fandom i orbit around the most often so I don't doubt it's made it's way to other fandoms.
I don't know where it's come from. But the fact that seeing people yell about it reminds me so much of how people in fandoms would yell 'you cant call that character ace/bi/pan! It implies theyve had sexual experiences, youre sexualizing minors!' circa 2015 isnt a good sign
That it kinda reminds me of the whole still ongoing "queer is a slur" bullshit isn't good either
And that there's now a dumb take like this that tries to go after a word gay men use specifically, after it rose in popularity, is both very concerning to me, and it pisses me off
"Twink gets used in the porn industry!"
So has literally every queer word we have.
So have plenty of words that are descriptors, because thats what twink is! A descriptor! Or are we gonna start claiming fat is a sexual term too(which some people have but yknow lmao)? Or skinny? White? Black? Blonde? Brunette??
Twink, by it's definition, means a skinny gay boy. That's it. It doesn't say anything sexual about them.
And the reason im getting pissed is that once again young queer folks are spreading views that are evangelical sounding af, but theyre not seeing that. Because they saw someone on the internet say 'actually this word is bad and if you call a character whos a minor it youre sexualizing them' and have decided to parrot it without an ounce of critical thinking
If you're wondering what the fuck im on about, ask yourself this;
Why do you find yourself outraged and ready to accuse someone of sexualizing a minor if they say "Sonic is a twink" but not if they say "Sonic is a skinny straight boy"?
(Yes yes 'actually im outraged someone would call Sonic straight' there I made the joke for you)
If youre about to go "well because twink is a porn term!" I refer you back to the fact that all queer words have been used in porn, as have many other words that are descriptors
Twink means 'skinny gay boy'. 'Skinny' and 'gay' have also been used in porn. So has 'straight'.
So again, I'll ask why a character being called a twink/skinny gay boy outrages and disgusts you, but not calling them 'skinny straight boy'?
And will you still be outraged or are you realizing you sound a bit too close to a bigot that says gays holding hands or kissing in childrens media is too sexual, while straight characters doing the same is fine?
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gooeykit · 2 years
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WHY DO MY BEN 10 VIDEOS KEEP CORRUPTING. LAST TIME WAS ON MY LAPTOP, MY PHONE IS NOT LINKED TO MY LAPTOP‼️
(Og audio was Petit Poney)
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beachesgetpeaches · 2 years
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ive seen a few comments on how both joel and marlene take away ellie's choice in the finale BUT let's just be fair and say that one of those was way worse than the other
it's quite literally not the same thing: joel taking away ellie's choice gives her the chance to LIVE and get to some sort of good mental/emotional mindspace, and marlene taking away ellie's choice makes ellie DEAD
with no guarantee that it would have been worth it because neither of those dumbass scientist actually ran any sort of tests to confirm that the cure would be a thing. ellie would be dead FOR NOTHING.
so yknow.
marlene can be a good person all you want, but you cant save the world by sacrificing your own humanity.
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shiggityontherocks · 2 years
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I am not allowed any more days sick at work.  I am not allowed to listen to music at work.  I now have to let clients in to the clinic to yell at me face-to-face when they refuse to wear a mask.  I am not allowed to wear my scrubs that have little christmas owls on them, or rainbows that say ‘love is love’ or my garden squirrel ones, and now have to only where solid colors.  I’m waiting for them to just not fucking pay me and say that I need to come in voluntarily for something. Or pay them or something to work there. 
I literally have to buy more scrubs now which is uncomped and they cost like 50 bucks a pair and I work about 4 days a week. 
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kaijutegu · 8 months
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Alligator Body Language and You, or: How To Know When An Alligator On Social Media is Being Stressed for Views
Alligators are wild animals. Despite the idiotic claims of animal abusers like Jay Brewer, they cannot be domesticated, which means they are always going to react on the same natural instincts they've had for millions of years. Habituated, yes. Tamed, yes. Trained, definitely. Crocodilians can form bonds with people- they're social and quite intelligent. They can solve problems, use tools, and they're actually quite playful. Alligators are also really good at communicating how they're feeling, but to somebody who doesn't spend much time around them, their body language can be a bit mystifying. And it doesn't help when social media influencers are saying shit like this:
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That is not what a happy gator looks like.
That's a terrified, furious gator who isn't attacking because the ogre handling her has her in a chokehold. She's doing everything she can to express her displeasure, and he's lying about it because he knows his audience doesn't even know how to think critically about what he's doing. He knows that because his audience doesn't know anything about these animals, he can get away with it. This I think is why I hate him so much- he deliberately miseducates his audience. He knows what he's doing is factually inaccurate, he just doesn't care because attention means more to him than anything else in the world.
Let's change that! Here are two really important lessons for understanding alligator body language on social media.
Lesson 1: Alligators Don't Smile (in fact, most animals don't)
So what's going on in this video? Jay Brewer is aggressively choking his white alligator Coconut while scrubbing algae off of her with a toothbrush. And make no mistake, he is digging into the creature's throat while she is visibly distressed. He claims she's happy- but she's not. He is willfully misrepresenting what this animal is feeling. That's a problem, because people... well, we actually kind of suck at reading other species' body language. The reason for this is that we tend to overlay our own responses on their physical cues, and that's a problem. For example, let's look at an animal with a really similar face to ours, the chimpanzee. Check out Ama's toothy grin!
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Wait, no. That's not a happy smile. That's a threat display. When a chimpanzee "smiles," it's either terrified and doing a fear grimace, or it's showing you its teeth because it intends on using them in your face.
How about a dog? Look at my smiling, happy puppy!
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Oh wait no, this is a picture of Ryder when he was super overwhelmed by noise and people during a holiday party. He'd hopped up in my sister's lap to get away from stuff that was happening on the floor and was panting quite heavily. See the tension in the corners of his mouth and his eyes? A lot of the time when a dog "smiles," the smile isn't happy. It's stress! Why Animals Do The Thing has a nice writeup about that, but the point is, our body language is not the same as other species. And for reptiles, body language is wildly different.
For instance, look at these two alligators. Pretty cute, right? Look at 'em, they're posing for a Christmas card or something! How do you think they're feeling?
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Well, I'll tell you how the normal one is feeling. He's annoyed! Why is he annoyed? Because the albino just rolled up, pushed another gator off the platform, and is trying to push this guy, too. I know this because I actually saw it happen. It was pretty funny, not gonna lie. He's not gaping all the way, but he was hissing- you can actually see him getting annoyed in the sequence I took right before this shot. Look at him in this first shot here- he's just relaxing, and you can see he isn't gaping even a little bit.
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By the end, he's expressing displeasure, but not enough to actually do anything about it. He's annoyed, but he's comfy and that's where one of the best basking areas is, so he'll put up with it.
Reptiles open their mouths wide for a lot of reasons, but never because they are actively enjoying a sensation. Unless they're eating. No reptile smiles- they can't. They don't even have moveable lips. If a reptile is gaping, it's doing so because:
It is doing a threat display.
It is making certain vocalizations, all of which are threats. Alligators are one of the rare reptiles that do regularly vocalize, but most of their calls aren't made with a wide open mouth.
It is about to bite something delicious or somebody stupid. Check out this video- virtually all of the gaping here is anticipatory because these trained gators know darn well that the bowl is full of delicious snacks. (I have some issues with Florida's Wildest, but the man knows how to train a gator AND he is honest about explaining what they're doing and why, and all of his animals are healthy and well-cared for, and he doesn't put the public or his staff at risk- just himself.)
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It's too hot and it has opened its mouth to vent some of that heat and thermoregulate. This is the main reason why alligators will often have their mouths part of the way open, but sometimes they'll open all the way for thermoregulation. This is what a thermoregulatory gape looks like- usually it's not all the way open, kinda more like < rather than V, but you can't say that 100% of the time. Additionally, a thermoregulatory gape... typically happens when it's hot out. If they're inside, maybe they've been under their basking light for too long. Heat's the dominant factor, is what I'm getting at.
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There is another reason that a captive crocodilian might be gaping, and that's because it's doing so on command. Some places have their gators trained to gape on cue, like St. Augustine Alligator Farm and other good zoos. They have the animals do this in presentations that are genuinely educational. They ask the animals to open their mouths so that they can show off their teeth and demonstrate how their tongues seal off the back of their mouth. They'll also do it as part of routine healthcare, because looking at their teeth is important.
In this case, the animals aren't gaping because they're stressed, they're gaping because they know they're gonna get a piece of chicken or fish if they do it. And what's more, they're doing it on cue. They have a specific command or signal that tells them to open wide. It's not an instinctive response to a situation. It's trained. If the animal provides the behavior after a cue, the situation is much less likely to be negatively impactful.
It's also important to remember that there's a difference between a partially open mouth and a gape! As discussed above, alligators will often have their mouths a little bit open just to maintain temperature homeostasis. It helps them stay comfy, temperature-wise. These guys are all doing thermoregulatory open-mouthed behavior- that slight open and relaxed body posture is a dead giveaway. (That and it's the hottest spot in the enclosure.)
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Lesson 2: A Happy Gator Is A Chill Gator
So if alligators don't smile or have facial expressions other than the :V that typically signifies distress, how else can you tell how they're feeling? One way is stillness. See, alligators subscribe to the philosophy of if it sucks... hit da bricks.
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Basically, if they hate it, they'll leave. Unless, y'know, somebody has their meaty claws digging into their throat or is otherwise restraining them. (Restraint isn't always bad, btw. Sometimes the animal is going through a medical thing or needs to be restrained for their safety- which a responsible educator will explain.)
Let's look at a very similar scenario, in which a captive alligator is getting his back scrubbed.
As you can see, it's quite different. First, he's not being restrained at all. Second, look at how relaxed he is! He's just chilling there vibing! He could simply get up and leave if he wanted to, because he's not being held. Towards the end of the video, as he lifts his head, you can see that his respiratory rate is very even as his throat flutters a bit. I'm not sure what this facility is, so I can't comment on care/general ethics, but like. In this specific case, this is an alligator enjoying being scrubbed! And you can tell because he's not doing anything. A happy gator is content to be doing what they're doing.
Why Should I Listen To You?
Now, you should ask yourself, why should you listen to me? Why should you trust me, who does not own an alligator, versus Jay Brewer, who owns several?
Well, first off, there's no profit for me in telling you that what you're seeing on social media is in fact not what you're being told you're seeing. I'm not getting paid to do this. That's the thing with people who make social media content. The big names aren't doing it just for fun. They're doing it for money. Whether that's profit through partnerships or sponsorships, or getting more people to visit their facilities, or ad revenue, you can't ignore the factor of money. And this is NOT a bad thing, because it allows educators to do what they're passionate about! People deserve to be paid for the work that they do!
But the problem starts when you chase the algorithm instead of actually educating. A "smiling" alligator gets the views, and if people don't know enough to know better, it keeps getting the views. People love unconventional animal stories and they want those animals to be happy- but the inability to even know where to start with critically evaluating these posts really hinders the ability to spread real information. Like, this post will probably get a couple hundred notes, but that video of Coconut being scrubbed had almost 400,000 likes when I took that screenshot. Think about how many eyeballs that's reached by now. What I'm saying here is that it's just... really important to think critically about who you're getting your information from. What do dissenters say in the comments? What do other professionals say? You won't find a single herpetologist that has anything good to say about Prehistoric Pets, I can tell you that right now.
Another reason you can trust me is that my sources are not "just trust me bro," or "years of experience pretending my pet shop where animals come to die is a real zoo." Instead, here are my primary sources for my information on alligator behavior:
Dragon Songs: Love and Adventure among Crocodiles, Alligators, and Other Dinosaur Relations- Vladimir Dinets
The Secret Social Lives of Reptiles- J. Sean Doody, Vladimir Dinets, Gordon M. Burghardt
Social Behavior Deficiencies in Captive American Alligators (Alligator mississippiensis)- Z Walsh, H Olson, M Clendening, A Rycyk
Social Displays of the American Alligator (Alligator mississippiensis)- Kent Vliet
Social Signals and Behaviors of Adult Alligators and Crocodiles- Leslie Garrick, Jeffery Lang
Never smile at a crocodile: Gaping behaviour in the Nile crocodile at Ndumo Game Reserve, South Africa- Cormac Price, Mohamed Ezat, Céline Hanzen, Colleen Downs (this one's Nile crocs, not American alligators, but it's really useful for modeling an understanding of gape behaviors and proximity)
Thermoregulatory Behavior of Captive American Alligators (Alligator mississippiensis)- Cheryl S. Asa, Gary D. London, Ronald R. Goellner, Norman Haskell, Glenn Roberts, Crispen Wilson
Unprovoked Mouth Gaping Behavior in Extant Crocodylia- Noah J. Carl, Heather A. Stewart, Jenny S. Paul
Thank you for reading! Here's a very happy wild alligator from Sanibel for your trouble.
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shrimpmandan · 1 year
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guys I think. i think bowser's penis is lost media
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getvalentined · 9 months
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If you pledged to James Somerton's Patreon, go CANCEL YOUR PLEDGE before you get charged and REPORT HIM TO THE PLATFORM!
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He reactivated his page today with no update to notify his patrons that he'd done so, having scrubbed all but two posts, under the claim (in his shitty apology video) that this is to allow everyone to pull their pledges before they get charged in January. The problem with this explanation is that nobody would be charged if he hadn't reactivated the page in the first place, and a creator can remove patrons from their end at any time—and yet, all 3600+ supporters are still attached to the newly-reactivated page.
James didn't do this to let people revoke their pledges, he did it in the hopes that people wouldn't notice and he could get at least one more month's worth of income from the platform.
Do not give this man another penny of your money. Revoke your pledge and report him to the platform.
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rubys-domain · 1 year
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okay wtf
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Rumor: Scourge's real name is Olgilvie Maurice Hedgehog
send a rumour about my muse and they will both react and respond to the rumours' validity.
"First of all: fuck you, Scourge is my real name. It's the realest fucking name I've ever had."
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"...second of all, it wasn't Olgilvie."
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0mg-bird · 3 months
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Hangman’s Mystery - J Seresin x Fem! Reader
Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Shy! Fem! Reader
Summary: Jake takes you to meet the crew after claims of him hiding you from them. You’re extremely shy and aren’t a fan of lots of people, making Jake be more protective of you. For once, Rooster knows more about Jake’s life than the others do.
Warnings: Mentions of anxiety - protective Jake- Fluff!- language.
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“All I’m saying is it’s a little suspicious.” Payback says, opening his locker up. Jake just rolls his eyes, preparing himself to go through this debate one more time.
“I hate to say this, but I agree with him.” Fanboy pipes in, pulling his flight suit off.
Somehow, the conversations lately always turn back to you. Ever since the flight crew found out Jake’s been seeing someone and it wasn’t a casual hook up, they’ve bugged him about it ever since. It had come up one night at the Hard Deck, when Coyote suggested to a perky blonde, who had been hitting on him, to focus her attention on the southern boy who was playing pool. She eyed Jake up, pleased with what was in her gaze and moved in on him.
Some of the boys gathered around to watch the cocky pilot work his magic. Coyote figured he was doing the pilot a favor since he hadn’t been seen with a girl on his arm in a while. Imagine their surprise when Jake took a step away from the grasp on his bicep.
“What’s he doing?” Payback questions, looking appalled.
“Is he sick?” Phoenix asked as she finished her beer.
Jake had smiled politely and rejected all advances the girl made, sending her away and going straight to his pool game again.
By the time Rooster came around with a fresh drink, the group scrambled to fill him in on the alien sight they just witnessed.
“He sent her away.” Phoenix said with a slack jaw.
“Like a poor puppy.” Coyote joked.
Rooster took a swig of his beer, then shrugged like they were idiots. “Yeah, he already has a girl.”
“What?!” They all exclaimed.
Ever since that night a week ago, Jake was being grilled on it.
As he takes out a fresh shirt to slip on, Jake shakes his head. “Coyote is getting married, and y’all are icing me for having commitment?”
Payback nods. “Well that’s because we knew of his fiancée, you have been hiding this girl like a dirty little secret.”
“I think him and Bradshaw are pulling our leg.” Coyote pipes in. “I think he made her up just to fuck with us.”
Jake laughs out loud. “You are just being ridiculous now.”
Bob, who has been quiet the entire time, ‘lurking’ as the crew likes to say, finally uses his smug voice. “Look, Seresin, I get it. I had a fake girlfriend too one time in high school, it’s embarrassing to admit, buddy.” His words make the guys laugh, and Jake shuts his locker with a loud clank. “She’s not fake! She just doesn’t really like hanging out with dick heads like you guys. She’s real shy.” He glares.
“Well, I’ll believe it when I see it.” Fanboy states. “Yeah, we want to meet her. You bring her to the Hard Deck on Friday night if she’s real, or else we will never stop bugging you about it.” He says, giving Jake a harsh choice.
His hand runs down his face. “I’ll talk to her about it.”
“He’ll talk to her about it, he says.” Coyote scoffs. “Okay Seresin, go talk to your fake girlfriend about it.”
“She’s not fake!”
~~~~~~~
“Baby?” He calls, walking through your front door. Moving to set his small duffle bag on the counter, he toes off his boots, trying to place where you were in the sea side house. It was oddly quiet, maybe you had your head phones in, oblivious to the world outside.
Down the hall he goes, pushing open your cracked bedroom door. Your scrubs were tossed in the corner, almost making it into the laundry hamper. You lay sprawled in bed, hair out of your braid, asleep in one of Jake’s t shirts he left at your house and some boxer shorts.
Slowly, he creeps to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed as he strokes your hair. You slowly start to stir, opening your bright eyes to him. A smile creeps up your pink lips, you take a deep breath in and twist to sit up.
“Hi.” You grin, happy he’s here.
“You alright? It’s only five, you look tired.” His voice was calm, sweet to you as he stroked the under side of your chin with his finger.
You rubbed your eyes. “Long day.” You breathe. “Mr. Johnson passed this morning.”
Jake’s eyes grow heavy with sorrow for you. He knew that this was normal for you because you were an at home nurse and a lot of the time the elderly patients pass. “I’m sorry, honey.” He says, leaning to kiss your forehead.
You lean into his touch. “It’s alright, I should be used to it by now but…I don’t know, Mr. Johnson was a sweet man, I actually adored his company.” You softly laugh. “But, that’s life, I’ll be fine.”
Pushing the covers further off of you, you lean forward and sweetly kiss the man that’s been in your life for five months. Despite the somewhat short time period, you couldn’t imagine life being any different than what it is. Your mother and sister called you crazy for being with an aviator, reminding you that he won’t stay in town forever, that he is quite literally owned by the government and will be wherever he is assigned to. The thought was scary, getting so attached to someone just for him leave when his ship comes in. It made your anxiety tick higher when you thought about it for too long. But, you don’t think you’ve ever been this in love. You’ll be the first to admit that you’ve never been a social butterfly, you were stuck in a shell, hardly bothering to get close to new people. Your handful of friends knew this about you, so it was a surprise when they met Jake and all of his infectious attitude. Somehow, Jake had a way of prying that shell open, his strong hands took you off the shelf and he learned that there’s a light hearted, good time, girl under all the shy innocence. He loved you for both versions, and it made you love him even more.
You declared that if you could, you’d follow him anywhere.
As he takes a shower, probably using your shampoo, you move to figure out what it is that you wanted to make for dinner.
You turn on some music, cracking a beer open and taking a drink. Soon, the kitchen is full of a delicious scent that Jake smells all the way from the bedroom. He follows the waft, sweatpants low on his hips and a casual tank top over her upper half. Finding you stirring some vegetables, he kisses the side of your head, then snatches the half drank bottle from your hand. This is usually the routine, you can never finish the drink you intend to, so he’s there to finish it for you.
“I want to…ask you something.” He says, leaning back against the counter.
You hum in question, and he loves the little look you toss him from over your shoulder.
“You wanna go out on Friday night?” He asks, making you smile. “Sure, where do you want to go?” You ask, unsure why he seems off.
“Well, I think since I’ve met your friends, you should meet mine. Let’s go to the Hard Deck with them, honey.”
You immediately stop your movements, anxiety sweeping over you. “Jake…I don’t know…a bar…”
“I met you in a bar.” He reminds with a smug look.
“That was different.” You turn to face him. “I was dragged there for my sister’s twenty first birthday and you know I hated it the whole time.”
He smiles at your pointed look. “Yes, I know but this will be different. Look, we’ll go, say hi, prove you actually exist, then come home and have sex on the couch.”
Your eyes widen. “Jake!” You gasp at his bluntness.
“Fine, we’ll do it in the shower.”
“Just stop talking.” You shake your head, hiding your smile. “The crew really doesn’t think I exist?”
He comes to grips with your waist. “They think I’ve made you up, like some sad Freshman geek…like i’m Bob or something.”
“Who’s Bob?” You ask with confusion.
His head dips to your neck. “Come to the bar and you’ll figure it out.” He mumbles, inhaling your scent before nipping at your skin. It makes you laugh, desperate to push him away but his strong arms have you locked in.
Something about him could make you forget anything. Sadness, anxiety, tiredness…the veggies that are burning in the skillet.
As his mouth moves up your throat, he’s engulfing you like a starved man. You try to speak before he’s inhaling you deeply, pulling you impossibly closer with his mouth on yours, searing you with a kiss that makes your knees weak.
“Jake- baby- mm.” You battle. “Okay, I’ll go with you. Jake- vegetables are charring.”
He finally lets go of you, grinning at your laugh and the way you stumble slightly as he lets you go.
~~
Clammy hands run down your jeans, once, twice, three times before Jake pulls you towards the entrance.
“They’re not gonna like me.” You stress.
“They’ll love you.” He states, wrapping an arm around your waist.
“They’ll be bored of me in two seconds.” You continue.
“No they won’t, just breathe, honey.”
You’re submerged into a room full of talk and music, some rowdy college kids are being thrown out and you’re sure you stepped in a puddle of spilled margarita. Your eyes are wide, and you shift closer into the larger body beside you. Jake leans down to whisper in your ear that it’s calmer in the back.
By the pool table, a group is gathered there and you immediately assume this is the infamous crew.
Phoenix is the first to notice, she smacks Payback and Fanboy, motioning for them to look alive.
“Well well, here he is, the man himself.” Coyote says smugly, setting his pool stick down.
A shorter pilot approaches you. “How much did he pay you to be here?” He asks, confusing you.
“What?”
“Just joking, I’m Reuben, but everyone calls me Payback, and you’re gorgeous.” He takes your hand in greeting, making your face heat with surprise and embarrassment.
Payback is pushed aside, and replaced by another. “I’m Fanboy, his back seater which means he’d be shit outa luck if he didn’t have me saving his ass.”
You shake his hand too, unsure of what to say.
“So, what’s your name? Wait, what was the last one, Jake? Abbi? Alison? Sorry, he has a thing for A names. Your name start with an A?” His tone is teasing, but he’s so straightforward, it makes things awkward.
Jake’s grip tightens on you. “Cut it out, Garcia.” He slowly said with a warning look.
Fanboy puts his hands up in defense. “Just trying to get to know this mystery girl you hid from us, Hangman.” He claims, then goes back to your gaze. “What’s your name?”
“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” You say softly, brushing him off.
You’re introduced to more guys, all who make some sort of snide comment about your relationship with Jake, well, except for Bob who was utterly polite. To your surprise, you’re introduced to Natasha greets you with a hug.
“Well, you’re real and not crazy so that’s a plus.” She jokes, making you chuckle. “You want something to drink?” She asks.
“You’re sweet, thank you. I’ll just take a beer, I’m not picky.” You say in a grateful tone, she nods, saying she’ll be right back.
Moving in from outside, Rooster makes his appearance.
“I missed the meet and greet? Damn.” He says, making you turn with a grin.
“Bradley, hi!” You greet, stepping away from Jake’s embrace momentarily. Rooster hugs you politely. “Hey girly, how are you?”
The crew grows a sour look.
“You two already know each other?” Coyote asks.
Rooster nods. “I was there when her and Hangman met.” He says so casually.
“Bradley and Ashley come over for lunch sometimes.” You add, making the group look at each other.
“Does no one tell us anything anymore or…” Bob trails off.
The night continues with chatter and worthless bets on pool shots. At no point does your hand leave Jake, whether it’s intertwined with his or on his arm, his back, your finger hooked on his belt loop, anything. It might make you look needy, but it’s something that eases your nerves.
When you do pull away from him with intention of finding the bathroom, he immediately turns when your warmth is gone.
“Where you goin’?” He questions.
“The ladies room, a place you can’t follow me in to.” You tease, starting to walk away.
He’s eyes scan the room, then watch you closely. He doesn’t miss the amount of guys that turn to watch you, scanning you up and down, definitely making comments about how good you fit in your jeans.
His paranoia gets the better of him, he marches across the bar to the hallway where the restrooms are. Back leaned against the wall, he waits, standing guard, in his mind, but the pilots call him a puppy.
“Mystery girl went and made him a golden retriever.” Payback laughs.
Fanboy nods. “We’ve lost him for good. What’s he gonna do when he leaves next month for Po-dunk, Texas- or wherever he’s from?”
They all watch as you and Jake slowly start to walk back to the group. Rooster, who finishes his beer, simply shrugs and leans to line his pool stick up. “He says he’s gonna take her with him and marry her.”
“What?!”
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theafrochick · 1 year
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Every time I clean or fix something I relate heavily to my dad doing his passive aggressive monthly deep clean of downstairs.
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pirateprincessblog · 5 months
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outlaw
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𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: you wish there would be a time you could call your life boring again. before all the mess, before the town fell apart, before your father disowned you. before jeong yunho. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeong yunho x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 11.1k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: wild west theme, cowboy!yunho, bartender!reader 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: praising, claiming, dacryphilia, marking, size kink, oral, unprotected sex, outdoor sex
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: violence, weapons, alcohol consumption, murder, slight gore, attempted SA 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: django performance might be the reason why i switched from hongjoong to yunho after four years of being loyal. NOT PROOFREAD I AM IMPATIENT I HAD TO POST IT BEFORE GOING TO BED! <3
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
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"another one, sweetheart."
i'm not your sweetheart, you wanted to mutter. but you bit your tongue, remembering that your father is somewhere in the room. so you have no other choice but to approach the loud, messy table, and pour the greasy dirty man another glass of whatever alcohol you had in hand. it didn't matter anymore, as long as it filled his stomach.
"that's a good girl," he roars with laughter, heavy hand landing on your bottom and making you jolt.
your eyes seek your father, silently asking for help. but no help comes. instead, he points to a different table that demands attention, and leaves the saloon. you stand still, voices muffling around you. your neatly put bun is now falling apart, strands loose on your face and sticking due to sweat, your clothes are heavy on you, and your hands will soon start shaking if you don't take a break from all the work. from early mornings, to even earlier ones the next day, you are destined to be a servant on your own father's property. you wonder if this will last forever. pouring alcohol, dodging flying chairs and tables, taking the harassment so you can survive for another month.
if this really is your future, then what is the point of living? will he marry you off to one of these men? or will he keep you as his servant until the end of his days? you remember the day everything changed for you. you had just come back from the city, finishing the school day. barely a teen, hand in hand with your best friends. your father sat you in the empty saloon, putting his hands on your shoulders.
"you're quitting school."
just a month after you buried your mother, he told you that. there was nobody to help him, he had to fire his staff, and laid his trust into you. the business was crazy that week. who wouldn't want to come and see the owner's little daughter serving alcohol? those men congratulated your father on your birth, watched you play on the street, went to your mother's funeral and wailed with you, came to the saloon to see you struggle with bottles and glasses, only later to have their filthy hands all over you as soon as you turned eighteen. it doesn't stop, no matter how many times you ask. the pleading only makes them do it more, those sick bastards. and each one of them have a wife waiting at home, and a child comforting her.
"hey, bitch, over here!"
monday was a peaceful day. no work, not at the saloon at least. but a basket full of dirty old clothes awaits by the door, waiting to be washed. it is a cold autumn morning, the sun very low in the sky and not warming at all. you drag your feet across the field, hands red from the weight of the basket and the frost. your dress catches onto various branches and bushes, but you do not look back. you need to be done before noon, so you can make lunch for your father.
reaching the river, you drop the basket on the dying grass. a few flowers are still scattered here and there, fighting their way through the cold morning dew. as you scrub your father's shirt on the washboard, you notice just how old those clothes have gotten. you both need new ones, you cannot be walking around looking like the poorest people in town, while owning a saloon. but your father sees no value in those things. talking to him is like talking to a wall that might hit you if you say something it doesn't like. so you keep your mouth shut.
the used, thin washboard suddenly snaps under your hands, a piece of wood jamming into your skin and making you yelp. your skin being almost frozen from being in cold water, and then getting pierced, makes you finally break down. you hug your knees to your chest, and bury your head into the muddy dress. you're cold, in pain, and you miss your mother. your friends. the life you had, and the life you were supposed to have.
sometimes, you selfishly blamed your mother for dying. if she was still here, you could've had a life just like your friends. finding a job in the big city, a man too, a decent one. not this.
you hide your hands in the ruffles of your worn out dress, seeking warmth. you cannot go back home without washing the rest of the clothes, and the sun is rising faster than you want it to. noon will come by soon, and you will have two tasks unfinished. your father won't be pleased.
a distant neigh and galloping have your attention, your head curiously turning to see who it could be. your heart almost sinks when you see the speed the horses are headed at towards you, but with legs and bum frozen on the ground, you cannot move. all you can do is close your eyes in defeat, hoping for the best.
the gallop stops, now switching to a trot. you open your eyes, and see two shiny horses in front of you. the two men riding them dismount, one of them standing next to his horse and taking the leash from the other one. the taller man adjusts his hat, gaze fixed on the floor, and fastens his holster. you gulp, seeing the shiny revolver resting on his hip. then, he raises his head to finally look at you. you almost forget the potential danger of the situation once you look at his brown eyes. he is tall. very tall. and absolutely gorgeous. you look away, suddenly aware of how you look. heavens, what a perfect timing.
"oh, it's just a doe." he says, voice soft and sweet. he tilts his head, trying to get you to look at him. when you don't, he takes a step closer to you, careful not to scare you away. "came for a morning refreshment?"
you don't respond. instead, you look at the man behind him. he stands still, leashes in his hands. his clothes are a bit more rugged than the ones on the man in front of you, but it fits his image very well. then, your eyes betray you end lay on the man in front of you again. he wears a brown leather jacket with fringes, dark blue jeans, and matching brown boots. his brown hat sits perfectly on his head, giving him a mysterious look. he notices you staring, and only chuckles softly. he reaches into his saddlebag, retrieving something wrapped in a white cloth.
"hungry?"
this time, your stomach is the one that betrays you. it decides to grumble as soon as you shake your head no, making the man chuckle again.
"go on, you can have it. you look like you need it."
he holds it out for you to take, closing the distance further. you step back, remembering your father's words.
"no speaking to other men outside of the saloon. if i see you do that, i will personally declare you a whore. nobody will want to marry you, and you'll be alone for the rest of your life."
charming. the man doesn't give up, as he steps further towards you. you step back again, hunger, fear and curiosity fighting inside of you and making you sick to your stomach.
"it's alright. it's just food, i don't mean you any harm."
but he doesn't know what words ring inside your head. taking another step back, your heart almost stops once again. you have stepped into the shallow river, your body losing balance following. the handsome cowboy drops the item on the floor, and firmly grabs your waist and pulls you back to stand on the grass. you instinctively grab onto his shoulders for support, and he pulls your body into his. you breathe out when your chest collides with his, overwhelmed by the situation.
"clumsy girl," he teases.
you can't make yourself move, not only because you don't want to, but because his grip is firm on your waist. he safely moves you away from the water and removes one hand from your body, only to move the loose strands of hair from your face.
"wyatt," he calls.
the other man steps towards the two of you, not uttering a word.
"you go on. i'll catch up with you."
without protest, he gets on his horse, nods towards his companion, then gallops away. you are left alone with the ridiculously handsome cowboy, now feeling a bit warmer than a few moments ago. the man finally lets go of you, picking up the cloth from the ground. a distant thunder surprises you, and you look over at the scattered clothes. the black clouds over the mountains are covering the blue sky quite fast, and it just seems at this moment that everything is working against you.
you hurriedly collect the remaining dirty clothes, crouching down and brushing it against the half of the washboard as best as you can. your hand is in pain, still dripping red, but your father's consequences are more painful. you'd rather have a hundred more splinters ripping your skin than your father slapping you across the face like he is used to.
the man lets you finish, turning his attention to the horse. in the corner of your eye, you see him caressing the horse's mane. the animal leans into his hand, enjoying the comfort of his warm and caring touch. he looks so tough, yet his actions are a complete opposite.
"if you're done staring, you can join me."
caught red handed, and red cheeked, you turn around to see him sat under the nearby tree, opening the white cloth. he sets it on the ground near him, and folds his arms across his chest. you pick up the now clean clothes, the broken washboard forgotten and floating somewhere further down the field. you sit next to him, the food serving as an imaginary border. he takes his hat off, putting it over his face and rests his head against the tree.
"if you're embarrassed to eat in front of me. now i won't look. eat. please."
and you do. you take a bite of the biscuit, enjoying it like it's your first one ever. you take the chance now that he doesn't see anything to properly look around. his horse is gorgeous, white with brown legs and head. you then look at its owner, still chewing on the biscuit. the more you look at him, the more your stomach feels all fuzzy. is this what it feels like to be attracted to a man? are you finally experiencing a crush?
you should really get home.
thunder grumbles again, causing the horse to become restless.
"shh, you're good." the cowboy says soothingly, not moving from his spot. and the horse listens.
it soothes you too, because you lean against the tree like him, and silently eat. your breathing matches his, and for a moment, you think that he has fallen asleep. until you start feeling drops of rain on your head. you don't say anything. you don't really need to, because the man interrupts his short break by standing up and putting his hand out for you to take. you take it, your hand melting into his as he helps you up. his touch is secure, and gentle. nobody has ever held you this way, and you are afraid you might get used to it. he leads you to his horse, throwing his spare jacket your way.
"i'll take you home."
"no!"
the cowboy scrunches his eyebrows, and abruptly turns towards you. his hand doesn't leave yours, no matter how hard you pull. "she speaks." he says, as if he made an important discovery.
you shake your head frantically, repeating yourself. "no, you can't."
"why?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
"because."
"that's not a valid answer, sunshine."
if your stomach wasn't turning from the difficult situation you have found yourself in, it would turn from the simple nickname coming from his mouth. you aren't quite sure whether you're feeling nervous because of your father, or because of the handsome stranger. you remember that he is just a stranger, no matter in how much awe he has you. if you get on his horse, he could take you anywhere. but if you don't get on his horse, he could simply tie you up and take you with him anyway.
fuck.
"i like to walk." you blurt out, grabbing the basket of clothes and holding it in front of you, as if shielding yourself from him.
"lies."
"please, just leave me alone. thank you for the food, and for, well, not letting me fall into the water, but-"
"does he beat you every day?"
he says it with a tone so serious it has your blood going cold in your veins. his gaze becomes stone cold, dark, and it pierces right through you. seeing your distressed face, he steps towards you again, moving your hair away from your neck. the bruise you thought you so cleverly hid now uncovered in front of him. funny how a potentially dangerous stranger shows more interest in it than the town.
"or only when you do something wrong?"
"i don't see how that's any of your business."
"it isn't. however, if you want it to stop, you might have to make it my business."
you wish for nothing more than for it to stop. but exactly how does this man plan to make it his business? talk to your father? teach him a lesson? or the worst?
"i'll tell you what. i'll bring you just to the hill so nobody sees us, and you think about what i said until then."
you nod, defeated. you really need to get home as quick as possible and get started on the lunch. the cowboy helps you up on the horse, then climbs behind you. this is the closest you've ever been to a man, and if you weren't sneakily reading those short romance stories in the back of the discarded newspaper, you would think that you are becoming ill by how hot your cheeks feel. when he grabs the leash, also helping you hold the basket in the process, you take your time to admire his hands. pretty pale fingers, slightly muddy from maybe hours or days of riding. he smells of whiskey, vanilla and a hint of tobacco. you allow yourself a moment of weakness, closing your eyes and inhaling the scent. it doesn't help the way his warm chest and torso are pressed against your back, rubbing against you with each horses gallop.
when you open your eyes, you are disappointed to see the hill. it means that the short little adventure with the mystery cowboy has come to an end, and that you might never see him again. it's all up to you. and you hate that.
he helps you down, then fixes the ruffles of your dress that were slightly turned upwards from riding while you are occupied with the clothes in the basket.
"well?" he finally says, seeing that you have no intention of speaking first.
"i'll be fine." you lie.
you almost miss the way he bites the inside of his cheek from disappointment. almost. he nods, understandingly, and approaches you. for the last time, maybe. he takes your hand in his, thumb rubbing over the place where your splinter is. "take care of that. wouldn't want such pretty hands to be in pain or have a scar."
he kisses the back of it, eyes not once leaving yours. you almost shiver, from the cold and from his touch.
"thank you for your company, dove. we must part ways now, but i do hope i see you again one day. you are too pretty to forget."
he takes his hat off to say his goodbye, then climbs back on his horse. with a sweet smile and a nod, he gallops away. you stand there and watch, heart swelling with sadness. you watch and watch, until he becomes just a small little dot in the distance.
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weeks pass, and your life dynamic does not change. you still serve drunk perverts, avoid sexual offers, cook, and freeze yourself by the river. only now, you wake up earlier than usual, and keep looking at your surroundings in hopes of seeing a familiar brown hat. but you never see it. it's been almost two months, and not a single sign from him. maybe for the best. he did look like bad news. very handsome bad news.
you currently sit in a dark corner in the saloon, reading last weeks newspaper for the romance update on the last page. the appearance of the main character morphs into the cowboy in your head. no longer short, blonde haired with blue eyes and bulk figure, but dark haired with a short mullet, with brown eyes and a slender figure. you didn't even catch his name, yet you shamelessly daydream about him.
the doors of the saloon aggressively swing, startling you and breaking your bubble. you turn the newspaper upside down, hiding your little secret. a young man, known as denver, stands at the entrance, face pure horror. your father approaches him, putting his hands on his shoulders to calm him down.
"what's wrong, boy?"
denver barely gets his sentence out, before countless gallops are heard outside, accompanied with various screams. "he's here."
"who is?"
"the stallion."
you have never seen your father scared. and that scared you even more. he took a step back, abandoning the young man. the saloon became a mess, everyone pushing each other on the way to the exit, but suddenly coming to a halt. you stand up, taking your place behind the bar. the people are stepping back, slowly, still facing towards the doors. they separate in two groups, making way for the intruder. and when your eyes land on the intruder, you swear your heart could jump right on the bar in front of you.
your cowboy, your mystery man, the man you prayed you'd see again, stands in your saloon. drenched in blood and dust, sweaty, and with a revolver in his hand. the look on his face when he sees you tells you that you weren't meant to see him in this state. but he doesn't say anything. instead, he approaches the bar, along with his companions. they are all a mess, but not as much as him.
"good day, darling."
your stomach twists again, and you have to fight the urge to smile. you can't smile, not when everyone around you is terrified. you clear your throat, collecting any stray thoughts before speaking. "good day, sir."
"two rooms. and two bottles of whiskey waiting for me tonight." he says, a sweet smile on his lips.
"uh, yes-"
"there are no rooms available for you." your father interrupts, making his way to the bar.
the cowboy raises his eyebrow, then looks at your father. "oh?"
"yes. so i'm afraid you'll have to call it a day here."
the young man chuckles, eyes returning to your face. he throws a roll of money on the counter, then pushes is towards your father with his stained revolver. "don't be afraid, we won't."
you feel caged by his gaze, afraid to even move. why are you here, you wanted to ask. and why do you look like that. his clothes might look different, but the look on his face when he looks at you stays the same. in the corner of your eye, you notice someone trying to exit sneakily. but the cowboy also seems to catch it, because he points his trusted weapon toward the ceiling and-
"argh!" the woman screams, pure fear painted on her face.
"nobody leaves, until i get two fucking rooms and two bottles of whiskey. have i made myself clear?" he slams the revolver on the counter, causing you to jolt and step back. "now, if your pretty little daughter said that i can have them, just why the fuck are you meddling?"
defeated, your father takes the money, then nods your way. "show them."
alone?, you wanted to ask. but your tongue feels swollen, and your jaw heavy. you don't say anything. instead, you look at the fearsome cowboy, then proceed upstairs. the three of them follow, not uttering a word. you reach the rooms, opening the doors for them to see. the cowboy nods towards the room, sending them a signal to go in. when the two finally close the door, the dark haired man wastes no time in softly pinning you against the wall, just between the two doors.
"there, there. are you that scared of me, sunshine?"
you swear your eyes couldn't get any wider, and you hate it. you must look like a freak to him. but if you do, he doesn't show any disgust. he removes your hair from your neck once again, letting it fall down your back. his knuckles caress the now yellow spot on the neck, the bruise slowly healing.
his eyes shift from the bruise to your eyes, his gaze softening. "not excited to see me?"
you gulp, figuring which words to use. you are, and you are not. you don't even know.
"that's okay."
his other hand find its spot on the back of your head, slightly tilting it so that the injured side of the neck is more exposed. you feel his warm breath against your skin, growing hotter and closer. you finally let out a noise, it being a whimper rather than a proper word or sentence. soft lips graze your skin, before his tongue delicately swipes across your bruise. your stomach has never felt fuzzier, and your head is in the clouds. all those butterflies you felt while reading the newspaper have now turned into a volcano, waiting to erupt any second. the cowboy continues giving attention to your now sensitive neck, having you tremble in his arms.
he notices, putting his other hand on your waist and pushing you further into the wall, silently ordering you to stay still. he leans his own body into you, warm sensation enveloping you and causing you to moan into his ear.
realizing your horrible mistake, your hands quickly find their way to his firm chest, in an attempt to push him away. but instead, your fingers grip the fabric of his ruined leather jacket, and your head falls completely in his control. his hand massages your scalp, all while his tongue never leaves you. he switches from tender kisses, to kitten licks, and if he doesn't stop soon, you might just drip all over the floor and his shoes. 
as if he heard you, he delivers one final kiss, before he pulls away. "i'll see you downstairs at dinner. thank you for the room, dove. and for the lunch."
hearing the door slam shut, you can finally breathe normally. you are left to tremble against the wall, your neck and underwear wet, all because of him. you rush to one of the empty rooms, at the end of the hallway. you lock it, then toss yourself on the bed. you waste no time in flipping your dress over, your fingers finding the soft folds between your legs. you gasp, more at the state of it than the feeling. you are soaked, your fingers almost slipping from your folds.
you spend a worrying amount of time trying to please yourself somehow, but the buildup is just growing and growing, not giving any signs of erupting soon. no matter how much you picture your handsome cowboy, just a few doors away.
and you don't even know his name.
"did he touch you?"
"what?!"
"i'm serious. did he do anything to you?"
"father-" since when do you care? "he didn't!"
he continues to follow you while you serve the guests, asking questions and demanding to know the truth. "did he say anything?"
"like?"
"anything."
"he asked for a prostitute and i said i'm available tonight."
smack.
nobody turns, already used to your father's free will. you bite the inside of your now stinging hot  cheek, wishing for nothing more than to hit him with the bottle of gin you had in your hand.
"fucking slut. just like your mother. give me that." he yanks the tray from your hands, causing two glasses to fall and shatter. "pick that up, and go to the stables."
"but it's dinner time-"
"judith will help me. go. now."
not only do you end up not eating yourself, but you don't see the man whose lips you're still feeling on you. maybe that's why your father told you to leave, just so you don't see him. is it possible that he knows today isn't the first time you see the cowboy?
you search for his horse, the one you thought was the prettiest one you've seen. but it's not in the stable.
"it got shot. he had to put her down." slowly getting used to sudden intrusions, you turn around. one of his companions sit on a block of hay.
"oh." is all you manage to say.
"a shame, really. especially because she was a present from his wife."
"what?" you turn around, the bucket of carrots falling from your hands.
"ah, he didn't tell you? why would he. he wouldn't be able to get into your pants if you knew he was married. haven't you noticed something shiny on his finger?"
no, no you haven't. because you were so mesmerized by his face and behavior you didn't question whether he has someone waiting for him at home. besides, a married man wouldn't... touch you the way he did?
"ah, poor thing. you thought he had a thing for you? you don't compare to his wife. he's an outlaw after all, our yunho. his wife is a perfect match for him, almost a female version of him. did you know that the bounty on her head is higher than his?"
you feel like you could throw up. from multiple reasons. you let a married man touch you. hell, you touched yourself to a married man. not just an ordinary man, but an outlaw? what if his wife finds out? is she really that dangerous? will you be next on her victim list? not able to contain the emotions any longer, you run to the corner, bending over the blocks of hay and puking on the floor.
"ah, there, there. i'm quite surprised, that was the calmest reaction yet. other women tend to jump at his throat immediately."
other women? the ground sways under your feet, threatening to crumble and swallow you.
"since you're not in a state to speak, i'll answer all the questions in your head. have a seat, please."
you finally take a good look at the man once you sit down, seeing him stand up in front of you. he's no less handsome than the cowboy, yunho, and he is older. but the somewhat evil smirk on his face is off putting. you hold the now empty bucket in your lap, carrots laying on the ground for the horses to feast on. just in case you feel sick again.
"see, while yunho does love his dear wife, she can be a bit of a handful for him. too... dominant for him, one could say. so he seeks submissiveness in other women, just like you. women who are the opposite to lori, women who are, well, nothing. much like you."
his words shoot at your heart, and you know he is right. it just feels disappointing to hear it out loud. were you really a nothing?
"he sleeps with them and whatever, and kindly robs them while they sleep from exhaustion. the rest of us do the same with others, not to worry. it's rude to exclude, don't you think? you know, you should really pay more attention to that notice board next to your house. my head is the third one from the left, right under the mighty stallion."
"why would you tell me this? what's in it for you?"
"my, you speak! what's in it for me? nothing, if i'm being honest. i just happen to be aware of the treatment your father gives you, and i guess the years are starting to catch up to me. i think i feel pity."
"you're going to ask for something in return, aren't you?"
"clever girl, you are." he crouches in front of you, cupping your cheek and caressing it with his thumb. "give me what you wanted to give yunho."
"i didn't want to-"
"you think i'm dumb? like you? i know that if he had only asked you, you would've jumped in his bed right away. therefore, i tell you, give me what i ask."
"no."
the older man scoffs, then stands up again. his hand remains on your cheek, but his thumb stops caressing it. he removes it, only to bring it back with a slap. losing balance, you fall on the ground. the man doesn't give you any time to process what just happened, grabbing you by your shoulders and throwing you on the pile of hay. you open your mouth, letting out a scream that gets cut off by his lips on your mouth. they feel greasy, reeking of onion and beef, not remotely close to yunho's.
your hands are trapped above your head, his hand holding it in place while his other one struggles with the layers of your dress and apron. you kick, as fast and hard as you can, but you only manage to piss him off. he pulls away, only to spit in your face.
"i bet you wouldn't give yunho a hard time like this. why do all women have to be so difficult? all i want to do is make you feel good, baby."
tears stream down your face, words stuck in your throat. even though nothing is blocking your mouth anymore, you don't speak.
"you know, if you just let me... i'd get rid of your father for good. i could take you with me, i'd make you feel good any time you ask. i could-"
his words are left hanging in the air, and you feel hot liquid splash over your face. the shooting noise catches up to you right after the man's body falls on you, lifeless. you finally scream, lungs hurting from the amount of it. your hands fly to your face, wiping off the liquid and staring at it. red drips down your hands, onto your neck, pure terror filling your body as you realize you have someone's remains all over you. short and fast breaths leave your mouth, chest compressed under his heavy figure. it is not until another figure pulls him off you, and puts his hand over your mouth with hushing noises.
"it's alright, love." you recognize the voice as wyatt's, who then helps you up. "hey, you're fine."
you're not. you do not know who to trust. then again, when you don't trust your own father, why bother?
"let's get you washed."
after splashing your face with cold water and wiping it with his handkerchief, wyatt helps you to the back entrance of the saloon, then goes back to the stables. probably to finish the business.
you find yourself laying in the guest bed again, only this time, the sheets aren't wet from arousal, but from tears. you spend at least two hours, eyes fixed on the wooden ceiling . you feel dirty, still feeling his dirty hands all over you. your fingers hesitantly touch your face, afraid that you'll stain them red again. your dress and apron still have droplets of now brown liquid. is this what yunho does? is that why he looked the way he did when he entered the saloon? only the blood on his clothes was still red, still very fresh.
if what the dead man said was true, then you best stay out of the cowboy's way. and just like that, your secret little romance story has turned into a horror one.
the next few days, you don't see yunho much. you see the prostitutes coming down from the top floor, sometimes two or three of them at a time. and you are disgusted. you only see him at breakfast, from afar, and he doesn't show much interest in approaching you. his companions surround him, making the frown on his face bigger every day. were they discussing the strategy of robbing the town? was there something in their way?
for a split second, the man catches your gaze. his eyes soften, and you swear you could see a faint smile on his lips. but you couldn't return it. not when you know the intentions behind it. the soft look is replaced by confusion, which grows even bigger when you only spare him an ice cold glance and move on with your work.
saturday evening, the saloon is full. it is foggy, reeks of cigarettes and alcohol, and is loud. you don't see him or his crew yet, and you are thankful for it. at least one evening of peace. so far.
"it's kind of disappointing, you know? i mean, the sex is amazing. well, you know. you had him yesterday. but it's so sad that the town fears him and wants him dead. wouldn't mind having a piece of that every day. my body is burning, and it's been two days, but i still want more."
"i know, right? what a shame. i wish he'd stick around longer. i don't know about you, but i love that thrill of knowing that he's an outlaw. a wanted man, a gorgeous wanted man, having his way with me? i don't think anything will top that. i mean, did you see his-"
"another drink?" you interrupt, not able to listen anymore.
they giggle among each other before handing you the downed glasses. the saloon quiets down when they hear thuds coming from the stairs. you regret looking up, eyes immediately locking with familiar brown ones. everyone seems to watch their step, ready to get up and free a table if yunho desires it. oh, the amount of power he holds. that isn't supposed to make you feel some type of way. you're supposed to hate him.
but how, when he approaches you so politely, tucking that loose piece of hair that's been bothering you all evening behind your ear. such a simple gesture, which awakes the oceans in you, and probably means nothing to him. just a foreplay, before he finally cages you and fulfills his plans.
slowly, but surely, the music goes on. the people are relaxed once they see yunho doesn't have any thirst for blood tonight.
"gin."
"right away."
the night goes on, with you tending to everyone. and the cowboy follows you with his eyes, so much that the two women at the bar near him start throwing themselves at him just to get his attention.
"say, when are we going to have fun again?"
"yeah, stallion. did you forget us already?"
yunho chuckles, seeing you approach the other side of the bar and mouth their words with a mocking face. you hear him, raising your head enough to look at him. caught red handed, you only awkwardly press your lips in a thin line, continuing to wash the dirty glasses.
"you were never really ones to remember," yunho simply says, bringing the glass to his lips and downing the drink in one go.
he stands up, not sparing the women a glance even after they audibly gasp and start murmuring among each other. he approaches your father, saying something into his ear, then looks at you once again before disappearing upstairs.
"here," a clean washcloth lands on the bar counter by the end of the night.
"what?"
"that cowboy, stallion. he needs a bath."
"so? he can get his own washcloths. why do i need to- oh."
"yeah, oh. we haven't had a single man in a while, so there was no need for edith. now you can go fill her position."
great.
you knock on the door, and use the other hand to fix your hair before you hear him say come in. you do as told, two washcloths secure in your hand as you go deeper in the room. it takes everything in you to stand still not collapse from the sight. his clothes are carelessly dumped on the floor, and he lays still in the wooden basin filled with water. the place is steamy, the fireplace keeping the winter cold away. yunho has his arms hanging from the basin, and his head resting against the edge. the steam has caused his hair to stick to his face, which was shiny. droplets of sweat roll down his neck and into the water, and you think that is the most beautiful sight you've ever seen.
he is so manly, so handsome, and so...
"you gonna stand there and watch while i slowly cook myself into a stew here?"
he is fresh shaven, that is the first thing you notice when you approach him. he lazily opens his eyes, the hot water having relaxed his muscles a bit more than he wanted to. "right, sorry."
you wet one washcloth, then wrap it around a bar of soap. you haven't done this since... ever. yes, you helped wash your sick cousin. but she was sick, and it was different. this? having a whole man naked right in front of you, and you were supposed to touch him?
"go on. i don't bite. not unless you want to."
"i really don't." you murmur, finally pressing the soap against his hot skin.
you exhale, your heart threatening to escape from your chest and jump into the basin with the cowboy. a thin layer of fabric is all that is in the way of you finally feeling him the way you wanted. a fabric that could so easily just slip from your fingers, and you accidentally touch him. and he likes it. and he acts on it. and-
"i see you breaking your back down there. every day. with your father, with all those perverts, with all those jealous women. you deserve better. my offer still stands, you know?"
"i'm fine," you say, just like last time.
"give yourself some time to think."
the next half hour is quiet. peaceful sounds of the wood cracking, water dripping, and yunho's calm breathing. his eyes are locked on you, and you are sweating as much as him, only for different reasons. you fear that he can read your mind, figure out just how naughty the images in your head are getting. but when it gets to a certain point, you are reminded of that night, and you stop. that bastard has stolen your first kiss, and almost stole your first time. if anything, you are thankful that yunho has brought wyatt with him.
"uh... can you sit up straight?"
yunho raises an eyebrow, amused. you clear your throat when he doesn't move, looking around before finally figuring it out.
"could you sit up straight, sir? please?"
"right away, darling."
he does as asked, exposing his back to you. heavens, you want to- you want to- you don't even know what you want. there he sits, a whole meal right in front of you, and all you can do is breathe heavily and act all clumsy. you rub the soap on his back, gently massaging him and feeling every line on his body.
"you missed a spot."
"huh?"
"right here." his warm hand takes your wrist, guiding you towards his chest once again. your hand rests over his beating heart, and if you weren't so foolishly focused on seeing what the missed spot was, you would've seen the look on his face that is yelling to kiss him.
"oh, sorry."
he doesn't get angry. instead, he chuckles fondly. you are so delicate and innocent, it hurts him. too mesmerized by your focused face, he doesn't notice that your hand is traveling to his stomach. he jolts, hand clasping your wrist so tight that it has you whimper. you seem to have found a sensitive spot, not only to the body, but to the mind and heart. the look on his face shifts from a soft to an angry one, and you take it as your cue to step back.
"that's all. you can go." he mutters, looking away from you.
"but-"
"i'll finish up. go."
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coming back to the stables, it takes a lot of energy. you first go during the day, with jongho. he knew, wyatt told him. the rest only knew that wyatt and the man got into a fight and wyatt had to shoot him. jongho is understanding, kind, and doesn't seem to share any of the qualities that the dead man had given them. not only is he not interested in doing any harm to the town and its people, but he is rather helpful.
yunho, again, is nowhere to be seen. you hesitate to ask. you don't know what you did wrong, but you pray that the night isn't your last encounter with him.
you stand in front of the stables, memories flooding your brain once you see the hay blocks. they have been rearranged, some destroyed, possibly by jongho or wyatt. the horses are sitting together in the corner, enjoying the warmth of each other during the first snowy day.
"i can't do it." 
"that's alright. i won't force you. i just don't want one sick man to keep haunting you even when he's no longer here."
"i need time."
jongho only smiles reassuringly, patting your shoulder. he's nice, why doesn't your stomach toss and turn when you see him the way it does when you see yunho?
"i still wonder what he told you about yunho. your behaviour towards him isn't at all like he described it."
"what, he spoke to you about me?"
wyatt subtly kicks his knee from the side, ordering him to stop. but jongho feels rather mischievous today, and is growing annoyed of his leader. they were supposed to move on days ago, not behave like tourists.
"you first. i want to know why you despise him. well, except obvious reasons." the young man turns around, pointing at their companions scattered in the main street, keeping people away and scared.
you sit on the bench in front of the stable, running your hands through your already messy hair before finding the right words to say. "is he married?"
the two men look at each other, their faces not giving you much of an answer. they are extremely good at masking their emotions. wyatt sighs, sitting down to your right. "yes. and no."
"what do you mean? yes or no?"
"well, it's complicated." jongho says, sitting to your left.
"it's also not our story to tell," wyatt adds, looking over at jongho with a warning look, "yunho is the one that should be telling you."
you scoff, making both men look at you in confusion. "does it matter? he'll just sleep with me, you all will do your part of the job, and then you'll leave. i should do it as soon as possible, for both of our sakes. i imagine you can't wait to leave this town, just like we can't wait for you to leave."
"listen, if yunho wanted to harm you, he would. we never stay in one place longer than three days. we've been here far longer, as you can see. i don't know the reason yet, but i know he doesn't mean any harm. did he have a change of heart? doubt it. will he continue his crimes? i don't doubt that. is there something holding him here? yes, yes there is. i might have a guess, but-"
"jongho. shut the fuck up."
"i wasn't going to tell her, wyatt, relax."
the two men bicker over you, random words and sentences traveling to your ears and overstimulating your brain. you start feeling dizzy, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. you stand up and march down the street, leaving the two men to feel bad on the bench.
the next time you go to the stables, it is night again. and it is because your father throws a glass at you. it hits the wall right next to you, breaking, shards flying into your skin. you have nowhere to go, yunho's companions basically running the town by now. you don't need one of them to get a hold of you again. you sit on the new pile of hay, far in the corner. sobbing, pulling at your hair, cursing yourself.
how wise would it be to actually take his offer? would you be able to survive on your own? or would every single man in town finally be happy that you're all alone, unprotected, and out of someone's cage.
it hurts to even think about it, and it causes you to sob even more. your chest hurts, and after what seems like hours of crying, you aren't sure if it's from physical or emotional pain.
the animals seem to feel sorry for you, because soon enough two horses find their comfort in the hay right next to you, shielding your figure from the outside world. you can't help but laugh at the bigger one, his head pushing into your lap and demanding attention.
"aren't you cute?"
your fingers gently caress its neck, lulling it to sleep. it seems like the whole stable was affected, because soon enough they all start laying down one by one, calling it an early night and pulling you to sleep with them. funny how you got way more peace and affection from animals than your own family.
"moonshine."
click. click. click.
"come on, girl."
the warm surface you were laying on moves, following the mouth clicking noises and leaving your head to rest on the hay. you're still asleep, not aware that someone else has joined you in the stable. but the other person isn't aware that you're there either.
"there's my good girl," the man pets the black stallion, which lives up to its name and stands under the moonlight, in its full glory and shine. "aren't you beautiful?"
your eyes peel open, the voice slowly waking you up. you hear crunching, and a bucket rattling. when you finally open your eyes, you see the outline of the familiar figure at the entrance. it is not yet morning, that you figure out by the darkness that has swallowed the place. the only light being the gas lantern hanging from the saloons entrance, you don't see much. but you recognize that hat and figure anywhere.
"i wish you could speak, my pretty moonshine. you'd tell me why blood was spilled, and why my pretty girl won't lay her eyes on me anymore."
his...? his pretty girl? you don't move a muscle, hoping to hear more. the mare only points its head towards the bucket, demanding more food. yunho chuckles, reaching for another apple.
"do you think i scared her away? i made sure she knows i don't mean any harm to her. did someone fill her pretty head with something?"
the mare lets out a noise, as if wanting to confirm. yunho exhales, then sets the bucket aside. he goes further into the stable, walking just past you and grabs the saddle from the corner. going back, his boot gets caught in your dress, and causes him to halt. you shut your eyes, pretending to still sleep.
"heavens." he exhales.
you feel him get closer to you, and almost betray yourself when you feel his knuckles caress your face.
"darling?"
his voice is usually low and pleasant, but hearing him whisper is just something else. why does he have to be so perfect, yet so dangerous?
you stretch, pretending to not notice him yet. finally opening your eyes, you fake a gasp. you lean back into the hay, trying to keep a distance from him. he crouches in front of you, fixing his hat. you can't get over how well it suits him.
"had a good nap?"
"well, yes. had." you mumble, rubbing your eyes.
"that's no place to sleep, dove."
"it's the only place that gives me comfort right now."
he nods, understandingly. he offers you his hand to take, and you only look at him, puzzled.
"i'll take you to a place that will give you more comfort."
"i'm not sure-"
"that wasn't a question." the tone is serious, but the wink he gives you after it relaxes you.
the cowboy stands up, making his way to his mare. you stand up, dusting off your dress and following him. he puts the saddle on the horse, securing it, then offers you his hand again. this time you take it, not yet sure what he had in mind.
"go on, climb her."
"uh... she's quite... bigger than the last one. or any other one i rode on."
"yeah, moonshine is quite something. she's gentle though, nothing to worry about. go on, don't be shy."
with a bit of struggle, and a little push from yunho, you finally sit comfortably on the tall mare. she indeed shines under the moon, black fur reflecting beautifully in the dark night. yunho climbs behind you, taking the leash in his hands and guiding the mare down the street.
"is she fast?"
"she can be. want to see?"
"i don't know. i might scream."
he chuckles. he maintains the pace, gracefully trotting down the quiet sleepy town. you see some of his companions keeping watch, each nodding their heads your way as you pass them. your gaze falls on his hands, searching for the shiny item that was mentioned that night. but you don't see it. was it really a lie? or did yunho somehow know, and took it off? is the wife even real?
"hold on tight." he whispers into your ear, hot breath brushing your neck and cheek.
you grab onto his thighs, instinctively, right before you pass the last house and yunho whips the leash against the mare. it neighs, puts its two front legs up in the air and almost throws you on the grown. you gasp, but manage to collect yourself once the animal returns to its position and starts galloping. it feels like you're flying, and you're enjoying it more than you're scared of it. your hair flies into his face probably, but he doesn't say anything.
you pass hills, past the river where you first saw the man, and into the mountains. you don't remember the last time you went this far outside of town. not only because you weren't allowed, but you had no time or way. it's not as if you had a horse of your own.
his thighs are firm under your hands, nothing but pure muscle. and it suddenly drives you crazy, the way you feel his torso pressed against your back, arms holding the leash and keeping you from falling off along the way, his breath against your ear.
"you alright?"
"yes!"
"how do you feel? scared?"
"this is so much fun! it's scary and fun!"
his laugh is loud over the wind, chest vibrating behind you. the mare slows its pace when arriving on the steep mountain trails, carefully navigating to the top. once there, it comes to a halt. it is not very high, but high enough too overlook the fields, the river, and the distant town. yunho dismounts, then helps you down.
"cold?" he asks, noticing your trembling frame.
"a bit."
this time, he doesn't throw the spare jacket at you like the first time you met. he takes off his own, helping you put it on. it's warm, smells like him, and it's making you so dizzy you might just fall off the cliff. taking a good look at him, you decide that even if he is dangerous, his handsomeness makes up for it. he wears a brown waistcoat, accentuating his thin waist and broad shoulders. heavens, he is so dashing.
you stand still, waiting for his next plan. he pulls a blanket out of the saddlebag, along with the familiar white cloth, and sets it on the ground. the mare continues it's path further up, taking a spot near a boulder, as if used to the situation already. which brings you back to the questions in your head; did he bring other women here?
"sit down, peach. make yourself comfortable."
and you do, right next to him. you both sit still for a few moments, looking at the faint light in the distance. yunho then fidgets with something in the pocket of his jeans, before holding it out for you to take. in his open palm lays a ring, the very ring you've heard about and had your head spinning for days.
"hmph," he laughs through his nose, "figured that was the issue."
"there is no issue. you have a wife. end of story."
"take it."
"no."
"take it."
"i don't want to."
yunho sighs, then closes his hand again. he sits still for a few moments, as if thinking. and then-
"why would you do that?!"
you stand up, watching the shiny piece of jewelry fall from the cliff.
"if you listened and took it, you would've seen how worthless it is."
"i don't need your wedding ring, yunho."
his eyebrows are knit together, and you suddenly realize your mistake.
"you know my name."
"yeah."
"how?"
and you tell him. every detail of it, including the wife story. he listens carefully, face not giving any emotion. typical. by the time you finish, you are laying down and looking up at the shiny sky, tears streaming down your face. yunho is propped up on his elbow, laying on the side and listening. his fingers catch a fresh tear, brushing your cheek in the process. you are left completely baffled when he puts the very same fingers on his lips, tongue peeking out to lick the salty liquid.
"you poor thing." he coos, bringing his hand back to you. he removes the hair from your neck, then smiles with satisfaction once he sees your healed skin. "that's good. seems my medical techniques worked."
you scoff, putting your hair back over your neck with embarrassment. "so, uh... your wife?"
"a psycho."
"oh."
"she stabbed me. almost bled out to death if it weren't for jongho."
he says it so casually, as if it isn't a big deal. "you're still married though, right? that's why you had the ring."
"not quite. we weren't really married. it was just play pretend, so she could have half of everything i was bringing back. once i stopped, the bitch jumped me with a knife. barely made it out alive."
"then... why did you keep it?"
"to keep women away from me. well, those i didn't want."
"but you sleep with them. you use them anyway."
he frowns at the accusation. "no, no i don't. i only rob. i sleep only with prostitues, sometimes. what my companions do is none of my business. we have a deal, and i do not ask about what they do. just like they don't ask about me or what i do."
so, not all of it is true. but then again, can you really trust him?
"i'm so sorry, dove. if i knew that sick bastard would go behind my back, even after threatening them not to touch you-"
"it's fine. nothing happened." you try, seeing him get angrier with every second he spends imagining the situation you were in.
"he stole your first kiss."
"well, yes. but, what's done is done. it was barely a kiss, really. more like mouth to mouth breathing. it was like inhaling a whole onion." you say with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. but yunho doesn't laugh. instead, he unbuttons his waistcoat, then his shirt.
"what- what are you doing?"
"well, since you showed me your bruises, and told me your story, it would only be fair that i showed you mine."
you remember the night you washed him, when you went to touch his stomach and he told you to leave. kneeling in front of him, you finally get to see why. a scar decorates his lower torso, just above the jeans and the v-line. you breathe in, ready to do something you would only in your dreams.
you lean in, hands trembling against the blanket and fingers scrunching it from the nervous state you're in. yunho shivers, feeling your lips press against his scar. you don't stop there, inspired by his own actions. you allow your tongue to graze it, and when you get another gasp from him, you take it as a sign to keep going. his hand finds its place under your chin, raising your head to that you can look at him. and he snaps.
he grabs you by your waist, pulling you up so that you sit in his lap. you don't fight back, you're enjoying it. over the layers of the dress, you feel something poking you, and it makes your cheeks heat up.
"stop looking at me like that." he whispers, lips inches away from yours.
"like what?"
"with those big eyes. like you want me to ravish you right here."
"maybe i do."
"you're saying risky things, sugar."
seeing that he doesn't intend on making the first move, you do. you close the distance, pressing your lips against his. you don't know what you're doing, but try your best. luckily, he gives in, humming into your lips and kissing you properly. his hands on your waist scrunch the fabric of your dress as he contains himself from just pushing you below him and having you his way. he needs to take it slow. you're not like others.
"relax your jaw." he mumbles, and when you do, he allows his tongue to touch your lips, as if asking for permission to enter. and you grant it, parting your lips and unsurely letting your tongue join his.
he massages your muscle with his own skilled one, rubbing it just right and making your thighs rub and seek pleasure. he kisses you slow, and deep, each stroke of his tongue more passionate than the previous one. he feels you get annoyed by something, and is forced to stop.
"what is it?"
"as much as i love your hat, it's in the way."
the man chuckles below you, immediately removing the hat and putting it on your head. "there."
"how do i look?" you adjust it, getting used to the new item.
"like a feast."
with a swift move, yunho pulls your body closer to his face, so that it is between your legs. his hands shuffle through the layers of fabric, finally finding the undergarment and pushing it aside. "what are you doing? i'm going to squish you!"
"sit."
"what?!"
"sit."
you hover above him, not yet listening. this time, he is the one to get annoyed, and puts his hands on your bottom. he slams you against his face, tongue immediately licking a stripe up your already slick folds. you gasp, hand flying to his shoulders for support.
"rock your hips, sunshine. make yourself feel good."
you do as told, rocking your hips back and forth on his tongue, soft moans and gasps leaving your mouth. you tremble in his hands, the newfound pleasure too much for you to handle. "i can't- yunho, it's too much-"
the man only sends you a mischievous look, before taking the situation into his own hands. his plush lips close around your clit, sucking it, while the tip of his tongue teases the tip of your clit. you let out a long and loud moan, body shuddering from the surge of intense pleasure.
"fuuuck-" you whine, hips hopelessly grinding against his tongue.
deciding it's enough, yunho flips you underneath him with a swift motion. "do you want to do this?"
"yes, please."
"then, i'll have to prepare you. since you asked so nicely."
he flips your dress over, exposing your wet bottom to the cool air. you shiver again, his jacket not helping much with the cold.
"this is going to hurt a little. i promise i'll be gentle."
you nod, then go back to abusing the poor blanket underneath you. you bite into it, feeling his long digits intrude your tight walls. it is unpleasant, but not that painful.
"that's a good girl. you're so wet for me, look how easily you're taking me."
he starts pumping in and out, squelching noises having you completely lose your mind and almost drool on the blanket. his fingers are long, very long. how will you survive his-?
"this good, darling?"
"yes."
"yes, what?"
"yes, sir." you moan out, hips moving along with his hand in hopes of more pleasure.
he doesn't speed up. being soft and slow seems to be his way of doing it, and it is a pace you are enjoying very much. it's not fast, like you do it. you do it to get rid of it. he does it for actual pleasure. when he removes his fingers, you can't help but whine at the loss of contact. he turns you around so that you lay on your back, facing him. his hair is a mess, much like yours, and he smiles lazily at you.
"my needy girl." he coos, pressing a kiss to your lips. "can i claim you, sweet thing?"
"what?"
"do you wish to be mine?"
do you? or is it just the horny speaking instead of you? either way, you might end up regretting. so you simply say:
"yes, sir."
"say my name, darling." he pulls himself out of his jeans, the tip of his cock running circles on your sensitive clit.
"yunho."
he hums, slipping his tip past your folds. "again."
"yunho," you gasp, feeling him inch by inch splitting you in half.
"again."
"yunho-"
"more."
"yunho," thrust, "yunho," thrust, "yunho!"
he gets lost in the feeling of your tight warm walls, hips snapping deep inside of you and driving you crazy. you get wetter by the second, even more when you see him so dizzy. it's nice to know that you have him in a chokehold as much as he has you.
"does it hurt?"
"no," you reply.
"that's because you're so perfectly made for me. look at you, you fit in the palm of my hand."
that's not true, obviously. but the way he says it makes you really feel that you could fit, and that you could stay protected there. his hips collide with yours, and your eyes roll back.
"such a pretty pussy," he growls, pace getting sloppier and slower. "wish i could do this all night long."
"me too," you moan.
his hands rip your dress apart, exposing your chest. his lips waste no time in attaching to your skin, leaving bite marks all over it, until reaching the tense nipples. he takes one in his mouth, tongue swirling around it, while his other hand plays with the other. your fingers find comfort in pulling his hair, subconsciously pushing his head into you further.
"my sweet peach," he coos, cock sliding in and out so easily, "my pretty girl."
"so sweet"
"even your moans are so beautiful"
"use me for your pleasure, darling"
you find yourself moving your hips along with his, only in a faster pace. you need to finally feel that orgasm. you feel something build up in the bottom of your stomach, and you're not sure what to do.
"yunho..."
"yes, my love?"
"i don't know how to- how to orgasm."
"you'll feel it. don't think about it. just relax, and let your body do it. let me do it."
you feel the buildup, then you lose it. again, and again, until you whine about it. yunho turns you around again, so that you are sitting on his lap. you feel him deep in your stomach, almost pulsating.
"let's try this."
he helps you up and down, rolls your hips, until he finds what works for you. you hover above him, hopelessly biting into his neck to contain your inappropriate noises. his hips snap into yours with a fast pace, finally hitting the spot you didn't know existed. the buildup starts again, this time not stopping. and when pleasure washes you over, you can't help but pull at yunho's hair mercilessly, moaning into his ear and letting yourself completely go. he helps you ride it out, waves of intense pleasure washing over you as yunho helps himself get closer.
"fuck, darling." he growls, pulling out of you.
"wait, what about you?"
"i'll just- i don't know."
his hand wraps around his cock, which is ready to unleash any moment. the man almost audibly gasps when he sees you kneel in front of him, innocently opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. just how did you know?
"are you sure?"
"positive."
"absolutely sure?"
"yunho?"
"yes?"
"please cum in my mouth."
and it's all it takes. yunho jerks himself on your tongue, or at least tries to. some of it ends up on your face, but you so carefully try to collect every single drop he gives you. you don't miss the way his head falls back, eyes rolling and low moans escaping his pretty lips. coming down from his high with one last pump and moan, he finally looks at you. the texture on your tongue is not the most pleasant one, but you decide to impress him further, and swallow it. he scoffs in disbelief, running a hand through his hair.
"you are just perfect, aren't you?"
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in the morning, the ride back is much more comfortable. you still wear his hat, proudly, and his jacket. he can't help but kiss your shoulder as you ride, having it difficult enough to keep his hands off you. if only he could hold you in his pocket all day.
upon entering the town, you notice the people, your people, standing and waiting. would now be the right time to tell yunho you accept his offer?
he helps you dismount, before taking the revolver in his hand.
"what's this? a rebellion?" he says, mockingly.
"does she know?" your father asks, pointing at you.
you scrunch your eyebrows, looking between the two men. something shines in your fathers hand, and you realize he also holds a revolver.
"there is nothing to know." yunho replies, approaching him and standing in front of you. "you keep your mouth shut."
"oh, but there is. see, my little daughter, if you want to whore around, you could've picked anyone from the town. not your own mother's killer."
blood runs cold in your veins. the sun suddenly doesn't shine as bright anymore, and the man in front of you morphs into someone else. he turns around towards you, shaking his head. "no..."
"he shot her."
"you shot my father!"
"he deserved it!"
"no, the fuck he didn't!"
you step back, tears burning your eyes. did you really give yourself to the man who took your mother away from you? who also took your father away from you?
"listen-" yunho tries, hands reaching to touch you.
"don't touch me."
"he came here to finish the business. but he didn't count that he would fall for the daughter. what a clash of interests."
he doesn't deny it. and it only infuriates you more. so he did have an evil plan after all.
"you came for me, didn't you?" your father presses further, raising his revolver.
"no, i didn't." yunho replies, face changing from a guilty and sorry one to a neutral. "i came for her."
he grabs you by your shoulders, putting his hand over your mouth. you toss, scream, and whatnot, but what are you compared to his grip?
"i assume you won't care much if i took her away. but it would mean much to me. tit for tat."
"you are to never step foot into this town again. not you, not your companions."
yunho nods. and your father puts his weapon away. and it crashes your heart. you know you don't mean much to him, but to give you to an outlaw so easily?
"i came for what i wanted, not to worry. you won't see me ever again."
and just like that, you find yourself tied up and tossed over the black mare.
why did you ever wish for a life other than the one you had?
"you're all mine now, sunshine."
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feedback greatly appreciated! <3
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wiisagi-maiingan · 9 months
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I don't know who needs to hear this but tiktok is not a reliable source of news, medical advice, legal advice, cleaning tips, financial advice, or literally anything else. Don't mix cleaning products, a lot of "financial experts" are making undisclosed ads or trying to get you to join their pyramid scheme, "natural health professionals" (especially anyone claiming to be a hormone expert) are scam artists, and literally anyone can buy a set of scrubs or a lab coat off of amazon.
People online are not correct just because they look and sound confident and a lot of the "advice" that you get online is either complete bullshit or actively dangerous to your health and safety.
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