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sanarsi · 4 months ago

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But daddy, I love him!

older boyfriend!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Your controversial old boyfriend is back from his deployment. Your father is against your relationship. Or Joel fucks you on his motorcycle. Warnings: +18, MDNI, angst, arguing, age gap (reader is 20, Joel is 40), ex-soldier!boyfriend!Joel, rough sex, unprotected PIV, pussy eating, dirty talk, dom!Joel, motorcycle sex, daddy kink, pet names (daddy, sir, baby girl, good girl), hair pulling, no-outbreak AU and no-Sarah Wordcount: 4,5k An: My boyfriend’s back, and he’s cooler than ever. This text inspired me to write this wonder. Hope you enjoyed bestiesss <3 Music I worked with: Lust For Life - Lana Del Rey, The Weeknd

Masterlist

One message made your heart fill with warmth and your lips formed the most sincere smile in months.

Joel: I'm back.

The same message also caused hell in your house.

Screams echoed throughout the house for almost an hour. Your throat and eyes hurt.

Another dose of hot tears ran down your cheeks as you tried to convince your father to let you meet with Joel.

With your controversial old boyfriend who you met right after your eighteenth birthday. And the whole world could be against your love but you didn't care. After all, it was with him that you experienced the most beautiful things in your life.

He was the one who treated you like his princess the moment your father stopped.

"I forbid you!" Another scream from your father echoed through the kitchen.

Your mother was sitting at the kitchen island drinking soothing herbs. She hadn't said a word for several minutes. Just stared blankly into space.

She wasn't defending you.

She was on her husband's side.

Not on her own daughter's.

"I'm not sixteen anymore so you can forbid me from doing something!"

"You're my daughter! I have the right to forbid you from making the biggest mistake of your life!"

And that's how this conversation looked from the moment it started. From the moment your father accidentally saw a message on your phone.

If it weren't for your inattention, you would be sitting in your room now, waiting for another message. Happy that you're about to see your beloved after a few months of separation. Without letting your parents know where you're going, who you're with, and when you're coming back.

"He's not a mistake!" you screamed, more tears streaming down your neck. Your preparation for the meeting went to hell. You looked like seven disasters. Mascara smudged under your eyes, irritated eyes, tears that had washed off your makeup.

Everything was wrong.

Father snorted dryly at your words, sending you an amused look. It hurt.

"Child, this man is using you. He's manipulating you because you're young and stupid," he growled in disgust.

You blinked a few times, not knowing if it was your heart that broke or the cup your mother had dropped. You stared at the man who raised you and was once the most important person in the world to you.

It was amazing how time can change everything.

"Is that what you think of me?" you asked, smiling sadly. "That I am stupid because I fell in love with someone who treats me like an equal? Shows me respect and understanding?" you said, your voice breaking more and more.

"Oh, please," he snorted, rolling his eyes. "Do you really believe that a guy my age can love you and not just want you in his bed?" There was simply hatred in his gaze. There was no compassion or understanding. In his eyes, you were a stupid and disobedient girl.

You snorted sadly, shrugging your shoulders.

"I don't know, you used to," you replied with venom.

The kitchen fell silent. Your mother was afraid to even look up at you. And your father seemed to be on the verge of madness. He was breathing heavily, looking at you with something dark in his eyes.

You felt the vibration of your phone in your pocket and your heart immediately beat faster.

He had arrived.

"Get out of my sight," he growled, pointing his finger towards the stairs leading to your bedroom.

It was a pity that you didn't intend to go back there. Not after the hatred with which your own family treated you. If they could, they would have disowned you and everything you represented.

But looking at your parents, who were together out of habit and not love, you were glad that you were different than they wanted you to be. You weren't the one who was unhappy. You weren't the one who cheated on your partner at the first opportunity. You weren't the one who fell asleep after an argument about who was the worse person.

You loved and were loved.

"With pleasure," you said angrily and left the kitchen.

But instead of going to your room, you went to the hall to put on your shoes and take your backpack. It was amazing that you had packed everything you needed in it.

All your belongings.

"Where are you going?" he shouted, following you.

"I'm getting out of your sight. Just like you wanted," you said indifferently and with one movement you opened the door. You didn't pay attention to how hard the wooden board hit the wall when you went outside.

Your gaze immediately fell on the end of the sidewalk to the man sitting on the motorcycle.

Time stopped for a moment.

There was only him, smoking a cigarette in peace. A gentle wind blew his flannel shirt, jeans hugged his legs and gel held his slowly graying hair perfectly.

He looked even better than you remembered.

Broad shoulders and muscles tensed under the dark green material. The same wrinkle between his eyebrows and that tired look that immediately lit up at the sight of you.

Your father's screams didn't reach your ears.

There was only the strong beating of your heart and that smirk you missed. You felt butterflies in your stomach as you watched him throw the cigarette butt on the ground and reach behind him for helmet.

The helmet he bought specially for you.

"You're not going anywhere with that man," your father growled, tugging on your elbow to get your attention.

That was enough for the endless moment to end.

You looked at him over your shoulder with a hateful look and yanked your hand out of his grip.

"Try to stop me," you said defiantly.

Your father knew who Joel was. And he might have doubted your love, but he couldn't doubt that Joel was capable of protecting you.

That's why when you saw a spark of hesitation in his eyes, you immediately took the opportunity and ran towards the motorcycle.

"Get back here!" he shouted, running after you. Joel started the motorcycle as if on cue. You grabbed the helmet he held out to you and quickly sat down behind him. Your fingers trembled as you try to buckled it.

"I wouldn't come any closer if I were you."

You shivered when you heard the voice you missed so much. You looked up at Joel who was just sending a warning look to your father. The tension between them sent shivers down your spine.

"You're disgusting," he hissed.

Joel snorted under his breath and smiled widely. With superiority.

"Nah, your daughter thinks I'm pretty good," he teased. Your breathing quickened when you finally managed to get the clasp off and you hugged him tightly around the waist. "See ya," he winked, amused at the state he left your father in.

Anger seethed in him and if he could, he would have started to boil. But you couldn't see it anymore because Joel, with a roar of his motor, drove away from your house. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you could barely catch your breath, let alone know what was going on around you. Your arms tightened around him as you pressed your cheek against his back.

Feeling him again after so many months was a completely different experience. It was better than getting high after rehab.

His scent was intoxicating. He smelled like a man you would trust with your life. His muscles felt like a place you never wanted to leave again.

He was like home.

"Hi, baby," he said tenderly, placing his hand on your thigh. You felt shivers when he started stroking your leg in that caring way. He laughed quietly feeling your body tremble.

Everything around you became quieter.

"I missed you."

"Yeah?" he asked teasingly.

"Mhm," you nodded hugging him tighter to which he tightened his hand on your thigh.

"I missed you too."

You smiled at his words which made warmth spread through you.

He missed you.

And suddenly everything in your head calmed down.

All unwanted thoughts and worries disappeared.

There was only the sound of the motorcycle, the wind whistling over your skin, his body against yours and the view of green fields.

You felt good again.

Safe.

"Do you have everything with you?" he asked, calmly leading the way. You nodded. "Just your backpack?"

"Yeah," you replied, swallowing hard. The change in tone didn't escape his notice. He removed his hand from your thigh and slowly ran it over your hand on his stomach.

"That's good. I have more room to maneuver with the gifts," he said with a smile, then took your hand and pulled it to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on it. You shivered at the feeling of his lips and beard on your skin.

You didn't even realize how much you missed it. His words, as always, brought you comfort.

He always took care of you.

From the moment he decided to save you from the aggressive guy at the club. From the moment his worried eyes met your terrified gaze.

From the moment he offered to walk you home after that, you always felt safe with him.

It took so little to fall in love with him.

His gentle smile, warm gaze, and careful touch were enough.

"Want to show you somethin’, sweet girl."

Then there was only a loud growl, acceleration and a tighter grip on his body. The landscape slowly passed before your eyes as you drove fast through almost empty roads.

A feeling straight out of a movie.

That's how you felt all the time when he was around.

His gaze was always on you, making you hot and butterflies in your stomach. With him, you were the main character. Always. Even when you argued, all he wanted was for you to stop looking at him with pain in your eyes.

He treated you like his princess.

Only to treat you like a whore at night.

And he was the best at it.

Motor began to slow down so you lifted your cheek from his back to look around. You were on top of some mountain. The view of the forests and the city stretched in the distance. You had never been here before. You didn't even know this place existed even though you had lived here your whole life.

Joel stopped, turning off the engine and patted your thigh. You knew what to do so you deftly jumped off the seat.

There was silence all around, interrupted by the singing of birds. It was peaceful. Perfect.

You took off your helmet and hung it on the handlebars. A strong arm immediately wrapped around your hips, pulling you closer. You bumped into Joel's hard chest and gave him an innocent look that immediately made him start to harden in his jeans.

His gaze began to carefully examine every inch of your face, as if he was seeing you up close for the first time. But you hadn't changed even a little. The same shiny eyes, firm skin and delicious lips.

His fingers ran down your neck, sending shivers down your spine. A smirk bloomed on his lips as he felt you still react so intensely to his proximity.

You were so damn soft under his rough touch.

"Will you smile for me?" he asked, grabbing your chin. As if on cue, you couldn't help but smile. "That's my girl," he praised, returning your smile. "That's what I missed the most." His thumb slowly ran over your skin until it caught your lower lip. "And that," he added and without waiting, he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. You closed your eyes immediately, melting in his arms.

The longed-for and deep kiss he gave you, easily made your knees tremble. You slowly embraced his neck, pulling him even closer, thirsty for his closeness.

His attention.

His tenderness.

A quiet sigh escaped your lips into his when he tightened his hand on your hip. His touch was domineering and his lips dominant. His desire for you didn't decrease even a little, it actually increased.

You felt a slap on your butt and his fingers digging hard into your skin. You moaned, thirsty for more.

More of his hands on your body.

More kisses on your warm skin.

More of him.

“I missed those sweet sounds of yours,” he whispered against your lips as he slowly pulled away with a blissful smile. You caught your breath licking your swollen lips, and your eyes began to sparkle again as you looked at him.

Unlike you, he had changed.

He had more wrinkles around his eyes. His hair was starting to lose its shine and his beard was turning grey.

He was aging before your eyes.

“You were supposed to go to war, not to a beauty salon,” you said biting your lip to hide your growing smile.

He snorted, looking away for a moment in amusement. This sound was enough to make your stomach clench pleasantly. His smile was the most beautiful sight you could have after so many months of emptiness.

“Are you teasing your old man? Naughty,” he smacked his lips disapprovingly and squeezed your butt harder before he let go of you.

You took a step back, letting him get off the bike. He straightened with a soft groan as his spine cracked.

“I guess it’s been a while since anyone gave you a massage,” you said teasingly as he slowly walked up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Unfortunately, where I was, there weren’t any masseuses as pretty as you,” he teased, wrinkling his nose as he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips.

A few soft kisses.

You giggled as he started kissing your cheek and neck, teasing you with his stubble.

“I have something for you,” he whispered, straightening up and reaching under the collar of his shirt.

A soft jingle caught your attention.

The sun reflected off the silver dog tag that hung between you.

“This was my last mission,” he announced, placing the necklace around your neck this time. “I’m yours now.”

Those words hit you like a bucket of cold water. You blinked a few times, looking at the dog tag. The embossed letters with his data gleamed in the sunlight like a promise. Such a little piece of metal that meant so much. So much to him and now, so much to you.

He belonged to you now.

Your heart almost fell out of your chest when he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him again.

“Now I can take care of you properly.”

The gentleness and certainty with which he said it made you dizzy. And suddenly all those months of waiting turned out to be worth every minute.

Just so he can come back to you, giving yourself on an open hand.

“Will you accept me?”

Willyouacceptmewillyouacceptmewillyouacceptme.

It's the same as 'will you marry me'.

You stared at him expectantly, slowly starting to lose your breath. Did he really- No, he can’t. Or can he?

Joel saw the confusion in your eyes. You were only twenty, you had barely started living an adult life, and he was offering you something that was an obligation until the very end.

And maybe he was old, he didn't have as much strength and will to live as he once did, but he wanted you.

He wanted to take care of you.

He wanted you to be able to rely on him in everything.

So that you wouldn't be afraid to ask him to buy an extra pack of jelly beans or to kill a man for you.

He wanted to help you get through life, protecting you from anything that could hurt you.

“Say yes, my love,” he whispered, stroking your cheek.

Your silence began to drag on. But you didn’t think about the answer. You tried to understand what happiness had just reached you.

“Say yes and I will never let you worry about anything again.”

He needed to hear your consent even though he saw the answer on your face. That's why he wasn't afraid to wait when you were silent for a long time.

He leaned down and gently brushed his nose against yours. His hot breath mixed with yours and even such a small thing made you shiver.

"Say yes and be mine," he whispered, tilting his head so he could run his lips over yours.

Gently like the beating of a butterfly's wings.

Your eyelids began to droop from the feeling of warmth he began to surround you with.

"Y-"

And that was enough for his hand to tangle in your hair, holding you tightly as he pressed his lips painfully against yours.

You moaned, wincing as your teeth clashed and his tongue immediately entered your mouth. Only now could you feel the desire from longing for you.

He kissed hard but slowly, passionately.

He kissed so that you felt a tingling between your thighs.

The tingling quickly turned to excitement as he pulled closer your hips until you could feel his hard cock. You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he gently rubbed himself against you with a soft groan.

After that, everything happened quickly. You had no idea how you ended up on the seat of a motorcycle, without any shorts or panties, while making out with him. But you don’t mind. As long as his hands gripped your body like that, you didn't care about anything.

He growled softly, his fingers gripping your thighs tighter. His thumbs were close to your little slice of heaven, sensually massaging your skin.

And you might have been wet before, but now you were leaking onto the seat.

Joel didn't care that he made a mess. He didn't care about the teeth marks he left on your skin as he went lower and lower. He didn't care about how his cock painfully dug into his jeans, wanting to get out.

He cared about how hard your nipples were standing before he even ran his warm tongue over them.

The animalistic groan that escaped your throat made his balls ache.

"Fuck baby, I haven't even started with you yet and my cock is about to fall off," he mumbled without stopping sucking on your nipple.

Another wave of arousal hit your clit, allowing more juices to flow out of your hole and between your ass cheeks. His teeth began to tease your already oversensitive nipple, making you whimper.

"Joel, please."

He loved hearing your pleas. How beautifully his name sounded on your lips when you were possessed by pleasure. And Joel never refused you. So after a moment he was kneeling in front of you, gripping your thighs, forcing you to spread your legs even wider for him.

“Oh, fuck me,” he groaned at the sight of your cunt. Wet, leaking and throbbing, just for him. “Daddy’s home.”

And he dove in, collecting with his tongue everything that leaked out of your hole with gusto. You moaned loudly watching as he greeted your pussy. Groans of pleasure left his throat every time another dose of your arousal appeared on his tongue.

Like a thirsty man, he dove his tongue into you and your loud moans mingled into one. All your blood began to flow to that one small point, which after a moment was between his lips.

He sucked on your clit with a purr and allowed himself to give it a moment of attention. He made slow circles with his tongue and your legs began to tremble.

"I'm gonna come," you warned him, panting heavily. He glanced up at you, not taking his mouth off you, and you could have sworn that this view should be immortalized in a museum. You could watch for hours as he knelt thirsty in front of you to eat you.

The grimace of pleasure on your face only made his balls boil. He ran his tongue along the length of your slit and sucked on your clit again. You whimpered as you felt your orgasm approaching.

You didn't even have to try, because a wave of pleasure hit you a moment later when he bit down on your nerve nub. Fucking nirvana you could feel again after a few months of separation.

You shuddered, pushing your hips into him as he rode you through your orgasm for as long as he could.

And only when he cleaned everything that had flowed out of you, he let you breathe. He stood up with a quiet groan and immediately reached for his belt.

"My balls are about to fall off because of you, princess," he joked with a quiet snort. You breathed heavily as you watched him unzip his fly and reach under his underwear.

With a sigh of relief, he pulled out his painfully hard cock, which quivered at the contact with the outside world. You swallowed hard as you saw another drop of precum flowing from his head. He pumped it slowly a few times and approached you, positioning himself perfectly between your legs.

He held his cock firmly at the base and with a hiss of satisfaction he slammed it perfectly into your clit a few times. You whimpered, clenching around nothing.

"Yeah, just like that."

He guided the tip down and ran it between your wet slit. His head was soft and warm so your body didn't resist as he slowly pushed a few inches into you. You began to breathe harder, watching as he slowly disappeared deeper and deeper into your pussy.

Joel moaned in satisfaction, feeling your hole accept him perfectly smoothly. As if she was just waiting for his cock to fill her up again.

“Oh god,” you gasped, already feeling full but you could see he had to go in a few more inches. You clenched on him in warning and he grabbed your hips tightly to hold you in place as he slowly pushed deeper into you.

“Good girls take everything their daddies give them,” he gasped, watching you helplessly look at the spot where you were connecting. “You’re a good girl, right?”

You squealed, pressing your lips together tightly and nodding your head eagerly. His cock made you not know if it was better to breathe or not. Joel smiled, pleased with your reaction and with one hard movement, he pushed himself all the way into you. You moaned like a wounded animal as your eyes rolled back and your head fell back.

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned in pleasure, feeling your pussy clench around him in welcome.

And then it started.

His hips slowly pulled back only to thrust hard into you. Joel was never gentle with sex. And you never thought you'd like it. But you did.

His fingers dug hard into your flesh as his hips began to painfully slam against yours. You were barely able to stay in your seat. The loud moans had already scared away the birds and his growls had scared away all other animals. He was pounding his rock hard cock into you, causing more and more juices to spill from your hole.

The wet sound echoed around every time he thrust into you. And he didn't care that you couldn't catch your breath. He didn't care that you had nothing left to scream for. You just existed. Taking everything he gave you. Like a regular fuck doll.

"Fuckin’ take it," he growled.

You slowly started to choke but that only intensified the pleasure that accompanied his cock as he drove it into you all the way. He watched you struggle with the overwhelming feeling of bliss that he gave you. He loved seeing you like this.

His cock literally took your breath away.

But then his thumb appeared on your clit and you automatically gasped for air. You tensed up, moaning throatily until your knees trembled under him. Your pussy immediately became tighter, making his balls shiver.

His thumb made quick circles around your clit and you couldn't fight the feeling that appeared in your legs. You were helpless.

"Yesyesyesyesyesyes," you started to repeat on the edge of your endurance. Your body was fighting the approaching orgasm, making the blood start to boil throughout your body.

His finger disappeared and in return, you felt his hand grab your hair tightly. You weren't even able to hiss in pain when he pulled you to him. You looked at animal instinct in his eyes, feeling how he intensified his thrusts.

"Father didn't want you?" he asked, panting heavily. You clenched your jaw tighter as he jerked you harder. A devilish smile appeared on his lips. "Don't worry, baby. Now I will take care of you."

"Yes," you hissed, fighting the feeling that was slowly overpowering you.

"Yes what?" he growled, tugging harder at your hair. He leaned down, running his tongue over your neck to finally plant a gentle kiss.

“Yes, sir,” you repeated. He smiled against your skin

“Good girl,” he praised you, pleased and bit into the spot right after your ear. And then you were gone.

You moaned like a real slut, coming on his cock. Your legs began to tremble as he continued to fuck you mercilessly.

A wave of orgasm flooded your body, cutting off your access to oxygen, and another wave, flooded his cock. Your juices began to drip down his balls as with a groan, he continued to suck on your skin, marking you.

Moans, sighs and squeals mixed into one as your pussy pulsed around him. And that brought him to the end. He bit painfully into your neck and holding you tightly, thrust into you several times. Hard and deep, filling you with all of his seed.

His throaty groan sent vibrations through your body as he finally stopped. You panted heavily, still pulsating until his cum started to flow out of you too.

"Fuck, I missed you," he groaned pulling away from you so he could look at your face. Tiredness mixed with bliss. But it was your sparkling eyes that said it all.

You smiled lazily as he rested his wet forehead against yours, allowing both of you to calm your racing hearts.

"I would possess you in every way possible and I would never get enough of that sweet pussy of yours."

You snorted helplessly at which a smile blossomed on his lips. And then he just kissed you. Tenderly and slowly. Finally able to enjoy your closeness

#joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal smut #sanarsi fic

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retiredteabag · 16 days ago

Text

Wishful Thinking

arranged marriage with nanami… a continuation

pt. 1 - pt. 2

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

The silence that permeates the car you were shuffled into with your husband is suffocating.

Your life partner had let go of your hand the moment he had reached to buckle you into your seat. You strain your fingers now, hoping the sweat on your palms hadn't been noticeable.

A driver from your clan's estate had been tasked with dropping you and your husband off at your newly arranged space. You knew this man, the man who was seated directly to your left, was not affiliated with any clan, this meant you had no idea where you were headed.

Several shipments of your belongings had been retrieved over the weeks since the higher-up's declaration of marriage for you had been in place. A steady and simple move-in awaited you. Something you weren't particularly happy about.

You thought through a list of things to occupy yourself with instead of awkwardly standing in this stranger mans presence.

As curious as you were about your future arrangements, you truly could not ignore the silence in this vehicle much longer. Had you married any of the expected bachelors, you were sure your ear would be talked off at this point, yet, you did not even know this mans name.

You took in a deep breath, preparing to speak, the blonde fellow, (your literal husband) turned to meet your eyes, likely having expected you to say something. His eyes shock you, and you turn away once more to stare out the window.

You strain your hand into a fist and work up the courage. Turning with an inhale once more, you force out words before you can change your mind, "Terribly sorry..." You start, looking him in the eyes, "Could you remind me of your name?"

You had never been given it to begin with. Perhaps the officiant at your wedding had recited it in his speech, but you had been a little distracted at the time.

"I'm sorry?" He strains his neck in your direction, eyebrows raised.

"Your name? Sorry... I think I ought to know it, right?"

"You don't know my name?" His head shakes a little as he speaks, incredulous.

You hesitate, "...No? I wasn't paying the most attention for it during the ceremony..." You mumble the last bit, waiting for him to cut you off, but he just stares at you.

"I'm sorry-" His hand hovers mid-air, "You weren't given my name?"

Oh no, you've offended him.

"Oh! It's not like that! My family is....very fond of you! And the higher-ups speak very well of you as well! I...well...I erm..." How do you fix this? Stroke his ego?

His hand is firmly on his forehead now. "That is not what I meant. I'm asking you - you were not informed of my name? Who I am? Were you even aware you were to be wed?"

You fumble a bit with the skirt of your dress, "Of course! Yes, I just... well, I didn't know who, but the marriage bit was no surprise."

"But the rest, that is all true? You had no idea you would be marrying me?" He looks frustrated, to say the least. You had no idea this would come as shocking news, someone should have informed you.

He is peeking at you through his hand, "Well...no, but-" He cuts you off now, but he seems to not be speaking to you.

"No wonder you looked so ill up there..."

Okay ouch.

"When did you agree to this marriage? Was this simply... decided for you?

You weren't sure what to say. Had this not been decided for him as well? Speaking frankly, you were not entirely sure of why he had been chosen as your partner, he had no duty to his name. Even so, he looked repulsed at the realization, eyes shot wide.

"Well... it was-" Were you supposed to be talking about this? Should you say this to your husband? "Umm... Well, I'm sure you know the higher-ups are involved with the clans..."

He shifted in his seat to face you fully now, "You...were forced?" He almost looks frighted at the concept. You want to laugh.

Of course, you were. How else did he think marriage worked?

Despite your thoughts, all you said was, "No, it was a mutual understanding that I would be married."

"Yet you know nothing about me." He looks forward at the road.

Was that what this was about? "I'm a quick learner, if you're concerned about that."

He sighs and smacks a hand to his face again. "No...No that is not what concerns me."

You have a litany of responses ranging from, 'I see...' to 'what does concern you then?' but you say none of them. You just sit forward and stare at your palms.

Oddly enough, it does not take long for the silence to be broken once more.

"Nanami." He says.

"I'm sorry?" You hadn't expected him to speak, eyes wide, you turn to him again.

"Nanami Kento. That's-" He sighs, as if it's a real chore to introduce himself, "my name is Nanami Kento."

You look to one another for a moment before you quickly break the connection, gazing out your window, deigning to not look again until you arrived.

"Mmm...thank you." You finally say.

Although you knew the house was not terribly far from your family estate, it felt like hours had passed before you allowed yourself to move once more.

Mr. Nanami had climbed from his seat once the car had halted.

Eager to be away from me it seems.

Only, he had seemed surprised as you climbed from your door as well, having walked around to greet you.

"Allow me," He had said, reaching for the small train case in the back of the car, it had been filled with small wedding gifts and your husband insisted on carrying it for you.

I wonder how long he will keep up this act. You found yourself thinking. Your new residence was sizable. Nice, in an uncomfortably clean way. Perhaps that is how your husband liked it.

As you stepped over the threshold, moving out of "the man of the house's" way. You took it in.

This place must have been chosen by the higher-ups. Your father would not have bought you a home, nor did you expect a man without clan connections to have been able to purchase such a plot of land.

It was only mid-afternoon. Yet your life was impossibly different than it had been only a few hours prior. You had expected the driver to stay and discuss the honeymoon with the two of you but it seemed he had not been instructed with that information.

As many frightening realizations occurred to you, you were able to resign yourself to acceptance, putting aside the...bedding...situation... the concern that stuck with you was dinner plans.

Were you expected to have that prepared? You didn't know what he preferred though....

Thoughts of your...marital duties swam in your head while Nanami was making his way towards the living room.

"Of course," He was saying, "You're free to use whatever you like, these things are as much yours as they are mine..." He had rounded through the sitting area and around the kitchen into the master bedroom, never once turning to look at you.

It was clear that people had come to prepare the area for you two. On his bedside table, you see a comfortable pair of plaid pajama pants and a loose grey shirt. You had not been presented with such. No, on the bed, strewn out for the both of you to see was a... sordid... set of black lacy lingerie.

You stood in silence. A resigned look on your face. Your husband on the other hand, had coughed, spun around, and fully walked from the room in moments.

What was he doing? Was he sickened by you? Did he expect you to appreciate his apprehension? If you were being honest, you would like for him to get this act over with as quickly as possible.

Looking at your marital bed, you were once again reminded of your mother's sobs only this morning. You looked down at the gown that clung to your waist. You had felt pretty today, despite the occasion. You knew you would not feel beautiful in that raunchy piece of string.

How long do I have? You wondered.

Finally moving yourself, you come before the undergarments, sit next to them, and run your hand along the bed's silky duvet.

You sat in silence for longer than you expected to be given. You finally reached your hand up your spine. Unzipping the dress, unbuttoning the clasp at your neck.

You slid it off your body. Walking around the room near-nude to lay the dress along the ladder of a bookcase. It was nice, actually. Maybe you wouldn't mind it here.

You did not rush to dress in the sexy, frilly, underthings. You might not have been perfectly comfortable in your body, but that didn't matter. Not when you had knowledge of the intentions behind your wedding for years.

It was a bit of a challenge to get it on. You weren't sure how to get your arms through at first, and then you swapped them around when you couldn't figure out the neck bit.

What did it matter, it would be coming off anyway.

After dressing, you sat in the same spot on the bed for a while, staring at your hands. You wondered if he was expecting to eat first. Seeing as he had left you alone, however, you figured he would return eventually.

It was cold like this, you hopped he would hurry.

Just as you were beginning to consider moving to look at the bookcase, (panty clad and all) your spine snapped into place when you heard him calling for you. When had you given him your name? You weren't sure.

He was speaking loudly so you might hear through the wall, but not in a frustrated manner, "The kitchen staff is arranging something for us to eat-" He had slowly began to open the door, when his eyes landed on you. Not a moment passed before he dropped whatever he had in his hands. It loudly clattered to the floor and he slammed the door shut. The noise echoed in the room.

"What-??!" He stuttered, "What are you doing?!!"

Your mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a fish. What were you doing? What did he mean? And how exactly do you respond?

"I... uhh-" You looked down at yourself in the ridiculous lace.

You had not been trained in much regarding sex, having been told that the man you would marry would be well aware of how to educate you when it came to your actions. Suddenly self-conscious, you wondered if you had done something wrong.

Nanami calls your name from outside your new bedroom, then repeats it. Firm and unmoving. "What-are-you-doing?"

Your hands flounce around. Stuttering for a response, "I- I don't know!?" You finally force out, the tone coming off a little too questioning for an answer.

After a moment there is a dull *bonk* against the door. You hear no response for a long while. The room is so silent, you can hear your heart pounding. It was so painfully uncomfortable, you reached a hand to your chest to try and calm it. Finally, he clears his throat and calls out to you from behind the door again.

He speaks your name gently, as if calling to a child, "I'm going to come in now, okay?"

You sit upon the bed once more, back straight. "Alright." You nod to yourself.

Unsure of what to expect, you watch the door handle tilt to allow for your husbands entry, but your eyes narrow as he shifts into the room, avoiding your gaze - in fact - avoiding your presence completely.

His arm is shaking off his nicely tailored suit jacket. Still turned to look at the closet, he comes before you, jacket in hand, and reaches out for your shoulders. You almost want to shrink back from this odd behavior but remain still as he wraps you up in his clothing.

After a few awkward seconds, he turns to look at you. "What are you doing?" He repeats, low and calm.

You raise your brows, "What... are you doing?" You reach up to feel the jacket covering your collar and torso, instantly, he drops his hands from your shoulders.

He shakes his head, a hand tugging at his loose blond hair. "I don't... understand." He is no longer looking in your vicinity. His voice shakes and all the air leaves his lungs.

"I'm sorry." You wrap yourself tighter in his jacket, shifting to stare at him, "Was this not... expected?" His apprehension certainly came as a surprise to you.

Suddenly he's back, fully facing you, "Expected?" He raises his brows, "What is this? You're... what? Doing what is expected of you?". Despite the severity of the moment, it is now that you recognize how expressive his features are. His neck, up to his cheeks, up to even his ears are a warm pink. It wouldn't be improbable to assume his chest is a rosy shade right about now as well.

You decide to push the boundary, share your frustration. Why is he upset? If he does not want you, he should just say. It's not as if you desire him in that way. This has been an incredibly stressful and tense day, at least he knew who you were before all of this, you did not have that liberty. If anything, you should be upset with him!

"Is it not?" You speak up, "Forgive me, but I was under the impression that...this" You pull your arm out from under his jacket to motion between you two, "was how this worked."

He makes a face. Revolted.

"You are- we-" He cuts himself off, waving his hands before himself, then covers his face, "no." He gets out, "This is not how this works."

"Well." Now you're flushing, embarrassed. You straighten yourself, balling his suit jacket in your firsts. "What... would you like for me to do? I told you in the car that I learn quickly, if thats-"

"Stop." He spits out, voice suddenly higher than before, "Just...stop."

You swallow. What does he want from you? "Okay." You whisper.

He calls for you gently, and motions for you to stand. He turns away from the bathroom now and shifts in the other direction, looking at your wedding gown strewn across the bookcase ladder. He purses his lips. "Please.... dress yourself." He swallows, motions towards the wardrobes along the wall. "Something comfortable in there. I was... going to ask your preferences, for a meal-for dinner. Let me-"

He clears his throat, moving away now toward the bedroom door, he drops to the floor and picks up what must be his phone, having been dropped earlier, he rubs the screen on his pant leg. "What would you like?"

You stare at him, straight-faced. "Anything you like." You're not a picky eater.

He sighs, looking up at the ceiling, "No. What do you like to eat?

You shrug, "Anything. I don't mind." You shake your head at him and he just looks you up and down. The stupidly large jacket comes mid-thigh.

He takes a deep breath. Then exhales dramatically. Nods. And he's gone. This time, when closing the door, he makes an effort to do so gently.

You had found a soft cotton pajama set in one of the dresser drawers. Having long since removed your previous attire, you wonder what your husband is thinking of as he silently serves two plates of Chinese food.

You wonder what your father would say if he saw Mr. Nanami serving up dinner for his wife as you sat on the living room couch.

You're taken from your thoughts as Nanami places a large wooden tray on the couch, he places the food on it.

It seems you will very much be eating together.

"I hope you enjoy it. Let me know if you don't." He murmurs, seating himself near you in the dimly lit room.

In no world would you complain about the food your husband served you. Even if you disposed it, luckily, you liked Chinese cuisine. Before you can even get out a word of appreciation he is speaking again, "I think we should talk."

You sit up straight. "Alright."

He motions for you to eat, "Feel free. I think we ought to have an open discussion."

You grab your utensils but don't reach for anything until after he takes a bite. Awaiting his words.

"Well... I believe we ought to be on the same page about this. I had been under the impression that we were... but as I can see, that is not the case." He stares at you intently.

He is not speaking down to you, but rather, making space for an open conversation. You set down your chopsticks, and await further explanation.

"I suppose I should know what exactly the higher-ups asked of you."

You raise your brows, "Sorry?"

An apology has become a common synonym for many of your reactions.

"Earlier, you asked me for my name. And just then-" He flushes a little, motioning to the bedroom, "well- you mentioned expectations and I feel I ought to ask you what is is that has been requested of you."

Is this man daft? Is he playing with you?

Before you respond, you test the waters, "What did the higher-ups demand of you?"

The man sighs.

"I am terribly sorry," he calls your name again like its easy, a habit that makes your stomach flip, "It seems that people have not been honest with you, you deserve an explanation. I just expected you to be aware of this before our union."

He pauses for a moment, his eyes watch you and the chopsticks laying on the wooden tray.

Ah.

You reach to take a bite. It's good, and oddly puts the man before you at ease.

"Before this, I was intending to leave sorcery."

He states it as if it is nothing. Your eyes bug out and he pauses, allowing for you to ensure you heard correctly.

"The higher-ups have a large amount of sway in Tokyo, I'm not sure about Kyoto, but they were not fond of this plan."

I can't imagine why that would be. You thought as you recalled the moment you had first seen this Nanami Kento.

It had been an annual meeting between the Kyoto and Tokyo branches. You had heard him refer to sorcery as "a pain". Had he been considering retirement even then?

You simply nod, listening quietly. "It was their intention to find me...a wife." He huffs, "Maintaining a life in sorcery was highly important to them."

Oh, you see. Perhaps he wasn't so different from you after all.

The higher-ups have only had one expectation for you, even since showing promise in the world of sorcery, even after moving up the ranks at Kyoto Metropolitan Curse Technical College. Your job was plain and simple.

To have babies.

Sorcerer babies.

Had they been so afraid of losing one sorcerer to the regular world that he was cornered into loveless marriage? All to keep him from departure? Was that why Gakuganji had been so immediate with his instatement of your husband?

"I see..." You nod once more.

"I would like to know your experience as well. What was it that they asked of you?" He had both hands laid flat on the makeshift table between the pair of you.

You consider what to say. "I...have known-" you try again, "My duty has been laid out for some time now." You tilt your head, he's squinting at you.

"Please. Just tell me. They... forced you - to - to do that?" He points his head in the direction of your room once more.

Now you're confused. You want to speak in a way that doesn't insult his intelligence but he's making is difficult for you. "Did you not... marry me for children?"

He chokes.

Coughing to clear his throat, he wipes his mouth. "That is not- eugh-" he tries again, "They cannot ask that of you. I will not do anything that you are not explicitly requesting of me." He pauses effecting a moment of silence before, "Do you understand?"

But you don't. "Mr. Nanami, are you... not expected to produce children? Is that not why you were chosen to be in this situation?"

He responds quickly and with precision, "I did not marry you for what you could give me. No."

You can't hold in your confused laugh, "Then...why?"

"Was it not the easiest for the both of us?" He smirks at you, his shoulders have eased only slightly after hearing your laugh, "I was informed that your other options were not the most savory."

"You knew you would be marrying me?" You ask, ignoring his reference to your suitors and flummoxed by how easy it is to speak comfortably with a man you had been so recently adverse to.

"Yes. I... cannot believe you were not provided the same..." He pauses, "I was under the impression that this was a mutual decision..."

"Oh." It's all you can say.

Nanami takes in a deep breath from across the couch cushions. "I'm sorry." And you really believe that he means it. "I would not have agreed if I knew." He forms a flat line with his lips.

"I think you're right, though..." He looks at you, addled, so you continue, “This was the easiest choice. I think so too." You're unsure of how else to conclude.

Your wedding dinner had not been what you would have expected and the night, unlike anything you could have predicted.

Nanami Kento, no matter how you denied and tried to shuffle from the bedroom, had sworn himself to a guestroom after collecting the night clothes laid out for him on the bedside table.

He had gently grabbed your shoulders, maneuvering you towards the bed and away from the exit. Pleading with you to remain in the master bedroom. Claiming that he had intended to sleep in a separate bedroom since the beginning.

Though you pulled at his arms to try and swap your standing, telling him adamantly to take the bigger of the bed options, he simply drew close to you, shifted farther from the door and blocked your sights. He lead you softly to the bed, and when you attempted to side step him and make your way to the guestroom, he took one arm, catching you by the waist, and swiftly lifted you from the floor.

"Please. Do not ask me again. Sleep here, alright? All of your things are here. I will be very comfortable in the guestroom."

And before you could get out any complaint, he had you placed upon the duvet. His hands were off you in an instant, but he remained looking in your direction as he backed to the door you had been fighting over.

"Do sleep well." His long strides had brought him to the rooms entrance with no delay, you were still caught up with the fact that he had lifted you like a sack of potatoes, with one arm no less. "We will likely have to arrange the...trip tomorrow."

The honeymoon, that's right.

He said it in a way that sounded like, 'just to warn you' or 'you should know'. But all you could reply with was, "Right."

"Right." He echo's, turning to walk through the door, and looks to you once more. "Sleep well." And there's your name again, leaving his lips as though you are long time friends.

"You too."

But the door has been silently shut.

His touch lingers on your waist from where he had lifted you. Not in the way your fathers hand would linger after he drug you to and from meetings, not the way his fingers would remain painfully on your neck after he would steer you into conference rooms. But rather, in an almost ticklish way.

You shiver.

And run your hands over your new duvet.

When you had made up your childhood bed and left this morning, you had listened to your mothers cries, sure that last night would be the last time you would have the peace of your own bed. Your heart swelled with the knowledge that you had been wrong.

Your fingers traced the stitching on the comforter. Swung your legs from the mattress, and almost-almost grinned.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

tag list @longlivegojo @kitkatlover015 @l0v3rgirl-owo @smailaway (if your name is here but you didn’t get tagged. I think it’s either bc your blog is new/blank/empty or you need to check your privacy settings)

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courtneedsatoru · 2 months ago

Text

Lovesick Puppy | FirstKiss!Satoru x Reader

Summary: Satoru never thought about kissing before, but now he can't stop thinking about how your lips would feel against his. Word count: ~2.1k

Art credit: @courtneedsleep [ me ;) ]

“Have you ever kissed a girl before?” Suguru asks his best friend expectantly.

“Even if I haven’t yet, I’d still be the greatest—“

“So you haven’t,” Suguru cuts him off and waves his hand dismissively. “Well that’s good. Shoko said she hasn’t either. Yet. Aren't you curious about what it's like?"

Well, Satoru had assumed he could just "take" you whenever he wanted, for lack of better words or timing. Technically he could get away with kissing whoever he wanted (Geto included) with the privilege of those blessed genetics. Satoru had not conscientiously thought about kissing you, already acting like you were his and he was yours.

Until now.

Satoru's fingers presses against his lips wondering if yours were softer than his. What if when he kissed you, his lips were chapped which you thought were repulsive? Pshh, no, that's ridiculous- his perfect lips were never chapped? His leg bounces up and down nervously. For the first time, Satoru was floundering.

. . .

Suguru had ingrained the idea of kissing you into Satoru's brain. Something inside him was rewired, and he could not seem to control it. Perhaps he didn't want to control it. Satoru sure didn't mind the way you had permeated all of his senses when he was daydreaming about you.

The sunlight kissed his skin, but it wasn’t the type of kiss that Satoru was craving for. He blinks the drowsiness out of his eyes. In his peripheral field, he freezes at the sight of your resting form slumped over the school desk. He should check what time it is, not run his fingers through the mess of your hair spilled across the surface.

Wait. What was he doing? Why did his hands move automatically to brush irresistible, silky locks of yours?

After all, weren’t you just his classmate? His pretty and smart classmate. His classmate who’s the only one who plays along with his teasing and returns those big goofy smiles back.

Yeah, just a classmate that he wanted to kiss senseless.

Satoru couldn’t help himself. Not when you looked so ethereal, so perfect like this. Not when your oh-so-kissable lips were just slightly parted just for him. Not when he was leaning closer and closer, just for one sample of a taste, his lips hovering right over yours and-

T H W A C K

“Had a nice nap, huh? You fool, you think you’re allowed to sleep in my class?”

Fingers drumming the weapon of choice (a textbook), Yaga throws Satoru a sharp glare that breached past both of their shades. Next to him, Suguru has a coy, not-so-innocent smile on his face.

“What were you dreaming about that made you drop your infinity, Satoru?”

Even without being present, you somehow managed to break through his defenses. Satoru’s barrier was no longer effective when you unknowingly decided to invade his mind and soul. If you were going to be a problem, Satoru is going to have to fix it.

. . .

“You should’ve seen me! I hollow purpled the shit out of that curse! It kinda looked like Suguru but more hair and wrinkly, even though they’re not that much different.”

Satoru follows you around on your campus stroll like a golden retriever with a helicopter of a tail that just won’t calm down.

“Of course, you always win,” you reply with a sweet smile that he could just drink up for days.

“That’s it??” A big pout creases his mouth. “Nothing about how strong or cool I am? Or handsome?”

Your sweet smile is immediately wiped off and replaced with a deadpan expression. “You don’t need my approval, Satoru. You already know that you’re strong.”

“Yeah, but what about cool and handsome? I know it, you know it, why can’t you just say it out loud?”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“My bestest friend?”

“That’s Geto.”

“Just once.”

“That’s enough.”

Satoru wanted to whine and pout, but that would be terribly uncool of him in front of you. At this point, he was almost ready to beg but he had an even better idea.

“That’s fine if you don’t want to show me your affection with words. There are other ways too, you know.” His hand grasps your wrist so you can finally turn around and look at him to give him the attention he deserves. Satoru raises your hand up and ducks his head just underneath. He hums and relishes the weight of your hand against his face. “You should be more nice. You’re the only who’s actually gentle and kind with me.”

Oh. Did he just…

…

“You’re… impossible… and cute, I guess,” you concede not as begrudgingly as you intended to be.

“Cool, not cute,” he corrects. Satoru takes initiative, moving your hand back and forth so he can feel the friction against his scalp until you finally get the hint and pat his head for him.

He’s. Too. Cute.

“This is so uncool, Satoru,” you chide.

“I told you to praise me instead.”

“No.”

“I wanted a reward.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Do you want edamame-flavored mochi?”

“No.”

“???”

“I want a kiss.”

Shit, he didn’t mean that- the words just flew out his mouth without much thought. Your hand stops moving against his fluffy hair. Satoru’s heart bashes against his rib cage. Shit, shit, shit-

You suck in a sharp breath. “Satoru, don’t be a greedy shit. Let’s go get mochi.”

. . .

Satoru is a greedy shit.

He sits on your kitchen barstool watching you microwave popcorn, elbows propped up on the counter. The pout on his face was a thousand times more pronounced with the way his cheeks were smushed together against each palm of his hands.

"Jesus, I didn't know you wanted popcorn that badly." You shake your head oblivious of Satoru's heart yearning for something more than just playful elbowing and banter. No, he didn't want popcorn; he wanted you. The only acceptable way he wants that buttery treat is if you were the one feeding it to him with your lips, mouth to mouth-

Salty and sweet explodes on his tongue as a handful of popcorn is shoved into his mouth.

"Happy now? That should get you all fixed up. You're so out of it lately."

Body moving without thinking, his mouth latches onto your fingers before you get the chance to pull them away. He laps at them like a starved dog. His mouth is so wet and warm… and wet… the hot slick coating his tongue is all you could think about. Goodness, how much was he salivating earlier, and was this all really just from popcorn?

He cleans the butter off your fingers watching the entire time the way your pupils dilated.

“Mm, tastes so good…” His tongue swirls around your index finger for one last good measure. Even after pulling back, a string of saliva connects your fingertip with his tongue. “Even better like this. Can I have another one?”

“I… need to wash my hands.”

You hurry off to the bathroom gripping the edge of the sink until your knuckles were turning white.

Breathe, you try talking yourself out of this haze of lust. But as soon as you close your eyes, Satoru’s lips puckering around your fingers immediately runs its course back into your mind. The temperatures, the textures, the need are vividly hardwired into your brain. Fuck, what if it was your own tongue instead of just your fingers? Your mouth waters at the thought.

Freezing cold snaps you out of your thoughts. The icy water runs for a while until you’re sure enough you can face Satoru again without crumbling in front of him.

Knock knock knock.

Or not.

“What are you doing? I know you’re not shitting.”

“How do you know that?”

“The faucet is running, and you said you’d be right back, not back in forever.”

You open the door and are met with an impatient Satoru. Not him having separation anxiety, whining and chasing his little tail around waiting for you. How the hell is this the same man who acts so independently and wildly and so sure of himself? He could do whatever he wanted, but everytime, he chooses to put himself in a frenzy all over you.

The two of you walk back to the couch for a movie night. But when you check the bowl of popcorn, it’s already empty? What the fuck?

“Satoru?” you ask already knowing what he’s gonna say.

“Yes, princess?”

“I want popcorn.”

“Mm, is that so?”

Someone wipe that smug-ass grin off his face. “There’s no more popcorn. I wanted popcorn.”

“You have popcorn right here, baby. Tastes exactly the same.” Satoru winks and taps his bottom lip. What a tease.

“I meant actual popcorn. Something I can actually chew on.” You walk up to Satoru, plopping the bowl of popcorn crumbs onto his lap. “Go refill it.”

“Who says you can’t chew on this? I don’t mind you being rough.”

Your nails dig into your palms, anything to distract the tumbleweeds in your stomach.

“Don’t go shy on me now, sweetheart. You haven’t kissed anyone before?” Oh, of course, he already knows the answer. He just can’t help but tease you even more.

“Yes, actually,” you retort snidely. Satoru’s jaw drops prepared to accuse you for being a bit fat liar.

“Li- mmph…” But before he gets the chance to reply, you shut him up for good.

‘Rough around the edges’ was an understatement. It wasn’t smooth at all, your lips smashing against his, the inner part of your upper lip folding upwards and the bottom gnashing against his teeth. But neither of you couldn’t care less, whether it was an attempt to get a taste of that popcorn, silence that spewing mouth of his, or perhaps a mix of both. No, you shouldn’t lie to yourself. You’ve been aching to feel those plush lips of his against yours from the start.

Satoru groans. Fuck, right now he didn’t want your teeth, he wanted your lips. He pulls back just a centimeter away before realigning the two of yous’ lips properly and diving in for a proper taste. One he could savor and relish. The way you mold perfectly against him so deliciously shoots Satoru straight to heaven and back.

Your hunched form hovering over his wavered. Hands flying up to stabilize yourself, you grip his shoulders so tightly that your nails were sure to leave red marks on them. Satoru knocks the bowl off his lap, and the crumbs spill everywhere onto the floor and in between the crevices of the couch. How annoying it would be to clean up later. But it was completely worth it to pull you down and have you tucked into his lap, your thighs clenching each side of his own. He’s completely and utterly enveloped by your presence, something which he could bask forever in.

Wooziness begins to cloud your mind. A reminder that you need oxygen because you’re human. But Satoru clearly isn’t. The moment you try to pull back for a breath of air, he’s immediately chasing after you for more, more, more. His hands fly up to the back of your head and neck, lips clinging onto yours in heated desperation.

You can’t help but give in to this lovesick puppy. He’s licking, sucking, and nipping feverishly like a dog scarfing down his dinner and licking the bowl clean.

“More,” he whines and tries to kiss you again when you detach your lips with a loud pop. You turn your head away and block his lips with your hands before he devours you again. When he pries your hand off his needy mouth, you stand up and scurry away from him because you know he’ll never stop.

Satoru pouts at the loss of contact. “You didn’t like it?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s not that.” An evil grin takes place of that bratty pout. “…I j-just need a break. Please.”

Satoru eyes you up and down carefully. The sight of your disheveled hair and the flush that spread from your cheeks down towards what’s visible of your chest did unspeakable things to him.

“Oh, that’s good to hear. Your break’s over, princess.”

“What? Wait, hold on, just a minute-“

You backpedal a few steps back thinking Satoru would follow after you. But he doesn’t, just sitting there with his legs all manspread out waiting for you to take your rightful place on his lap.

“Cursed technique lapse: Blue.”

And in a blink of an eye, you crash face-first onto his lips for round two.

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sistertotheknowitall · 4 months ago

Text

Some guy finds Red Hood annoying.

Masterpost

All Danny wanted was one peaceful day. That was all. What does he get instead? A 6’ foot, jacked, vigilante crime lord. (Anti-hero, is that what he is? Danny wasn’t sure.) Now Danny’s not gonna say that a tall, built, hot as hell morally gray bad guy isn’t always unwelcome. It was just this one. (Unless, apparently, you’re Jazz. “Seriously?” “Look I don’t need saving but if he wants to come to my rescue, who am I to complain.”) They have gotten into many fights since Danny first moved to Gotham. ( He had chosen to live in a crime alley despite being able to afford slightly better. The money from his college fund was dumped entirely into said school and the money he earned went to bills and groceries.) Said screaming matches weren't even really fights; they were closer to the squabbles he’d get into with Jazz as an annoying way to express concern for each other. (A habit they, unfortunately, learned from their parents.) So having these types of arguments with said morally gray crime lord had Danny wondering if it was too late to cancel Jazz’s flight. (She boarded an hour ago.) He didn’t want them meeting, actually he’d like to keep her as far away as possible.

That’s why it was really inconvenient for these guys to kidnap him today. He had to get his sister from the airport and now he had to deal with Red Hood? Really? Other than Dickwing, Red Hood was the last person Danny wanted to see in a kidnapping situation. At least the others didn't make him feel like he was disappointing them. Only Jazz was allowed to make him feel the sting of disappointment at being reckless (and occasionally Sam and Tucker). Now, Danny thought he had decent common sense (“Shut up, Jazz.”), but he would gladly admit that he didn’t have Gotham common sense. He wasn’t afraid to go out at night just because the Riddler got out of Arkham. Honestly, he didn't see why he had to be afraid given any time of day. Danny was pretty sure he was basically immortal. (“Immortality is not dying and coming back as a full ghost.” “Then what would you call it, Jazz!?”) This seemed to frustrate Red Hood to no end as Danny lived in his part of the city and Danny was prone to finding trouble. (It actually seems to find him, Danny’s not actively going out and looking for it. He’s just trying to get on with his life.)

Anyway, yeah, Jazz was flying in for the weekend and somebody had kidnapped him. A perfectly normal Thursday. So, in perfectly normal Thursday fashion, Spoiler and Red Hood had swooped in while Danny was in the midst of a really intense staring contest with the kidnapper across from him. (“You know the staring is flattering when Tim does it but you make me feel icky.” The man didn't move and his hard stare barely wavered. “Alright, but I warn you I’m really good at this game.”) A flash of purple and the goon was no longer standing. Red Hood had come in guns blazing and made quick work of the other two kidnappers as Danny waited patiently to be untied. He could have phased through the chains he was hanging by but he didn't see a reason to. Just because they knew he could turn invisible didn’t mean they needed to know about everything else. (“That’s gaslighting, Danny.” “Technically, Sam, I think it’s lying by omission.” “Tucker.” “Right, not helping.”)

“Sooo,” Spoiler sang once Danny was free. “Who’s Tim?” You know what? Maybe it was Spoiler he should have been dreading. Red Hood made his way over, “yeah, kid, you got a boyfriend you didn’t tell us about?” Mm no, he regrets being in both their presence. Danny waved their questions away as he turned in a slow circle looking for the door. He wasn't quite sure of the time, but he was positive he was late to pick up Jazz. He answered as he made his way to the unconscious body of the guy who lost the staring contest, “a friend, well, a customer - a regular really. Nice guy, cute, has a staring problem.” Danny stooped down and started digging through the guys pockets, “do either of you know where the exit is?” Thankfully the guy was the one with his phone, he didn't want to search all the kidnappers. Turning it on, Danny saw that he was late and Jazz had already caught a taxi back to his place. The text had got increasingly more panicked the longer he hadn’t responded along with an alarming number of missed calls.

Danny shot her a quick text as he followed Spoiler out of the building. Sorry, got kidnapped, am fine now. Please don't call. Will explain later. Love ya <3 He quickly added a selfie that Spoiler photo bombed over his shoulder holding up a peace sign.

The screen immediately lit up with a facetime call. Danny turned it off and stuffed it in his pocket. He really didn't want Jazz meeting Red Hood.

He turned to face his “saviors.” “Okay, this has been fun. Thanks for the rescue, sorry I can’t stay and talk but I am needed elsewhere.” Throwing a quick salute he started down the street. After a block and a half he stopped at the opening of an ally. “You know I hate it when you all just stalk me from the shadows, it's very Babadook of you.” Hood appeared first behind Danny, “what's Babadook?” “A gay icon,” Spoiler drops in front of Danny. “Very true,” Danny high fives her as he hears Red Hood sigh, seeming to mutter to himself, “this is going in the folder.” “Okay,” Danny says, addressing both of them, “you don't need to walk me home.” Red Hood crossed his arms, “you’d rather your ‘Tom’ walk you?” Danny really really didn't want Jazz to meet Red Hood. Danny sighed, “His name is Tim and he’s just a friend and I’d rather nobody walked me home, I’m a fully capable adult.” “Capable huh? That’s what you call last week’s fiasco?” Last week’s fiasco being an incident that may or may not have involved a cult trying to sacrifice him. (He was insulted that they were trying to sacrifice him to a low level demon. He was the king of the infinite realms and they were using him to summon Craig? Really? Not that they knew any of this but still. Rude.) Spoiler placed her forearm on Danny’s shoulder to lean, as if he wasn't a few inches taller then her. “Not to mention tonight's kidnapping.” Danny shrugged her off. “And you two saved me,” he started slowly backing away into the alley behind him, “so, danger avoided.” Red Hood's hand shot out and grabbed Danny by the back of his shirt collar, “uh-uh, you're not pulling the disappearing act tonight.” Danny had indeed been intending to disappear and fly home, now he was being scuffed like a kitten. In hindsight he had pulled that move fairly often with Hood. Crossing his legs Danny refused to be set down on his feet so Red Hood dropped him. “Ow!”One peaceful day, was that too much? (Luckly, they didnt follow him into his building and just watched him enter. Unluckily, he had a worried and very annoyed older sister to face.) (“A selfie, Danny?! Really!?” “I wanted to assure you it was really me!”)

Part 7

#batman #batfamily #batfam #danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom crossover #dc x dp prompt #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #danny is just some guy #Nothing much happened in this one but some tiny things

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nativegirltapes · 4 months ago

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pairing: toxic!rafe x sweetheart!reader

you and rafe always took 'breaks', but they never lasted. when he asked you to meet him in the middle of the night you could never say no.

you and rafe had been on your longest break yet, going on 3 weeks. and you couldn't lie, you'd been doing really good without him. but you missed him, a lot.

you didn't know why you missed him so much, it was almost like a drug you just couldn't live without despite knowing you're better off without it.

2AM, sitting in your room, music blasting through your earbuds, paging through your favorite clothing catalog; you felt your phone vibrate right next to you. thinking it was pope; the cute pogue you had recently befriended and been texting, you had a slight smile on your face.

that smile faded when you realized it was indeed not pope, but rafe. of course from some random number because you blocked him on his own.

252-###-### - It's me. Can we talk? Meet at tanneyhill in 15? PLS. I love you.

you sighed, partly of self disappointment because you knew you were going to do exactly what he wanted. but also partly from relief, this being you and rafe's longest break, you wondered what had been keeping him so busy from trying to reach out to you. on previous breaks he'd be begging to see you a few days in.

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ 🍰 . .

rafe was sat on the front steps of tanneyhill, he looked stressed and upset, but really when wasn't he?

"hey," you said softly, standing in front of him, not wanting to get too close.

"hey." he looked up at you. "thanks for coming."

"yeah." your voice was full of shame. it was embarrassing how you couldn't say no to rafe. you liked to rationalize your embarrassment by convincing yourself that you were doing this for him, that he needed you and how could you say no to someone who needed you? but no, you knew deep down your relationship with rafe was self-inflicted and self indulgent. if you tried hard enough you could say no, but the thing was that you just really didn't want to. and that was the most embarrassing part.

you liked getting treated like you were everything one day, and nothing the next. the feelings rafe made you feel were ones close enough to addiction. the highs were so high, but the lows were low.

rafe patted his lap, signaling for you to come take a seat on his lap. of course you did. "i missed you," rafe placed his hand on your inner thigh.

"missed you too rafe." you were basically now bridal style in his lap, ass on one of his thighs, your legs propped up on the other, and your ams wrapped around his neck. you missed being held like this.

"yeah? how much you miss me?" he had a smirk on his face while looking at you. god he looked so good. you hated how good he always looked.

"i dont know," you giggled softly, "a lot."

"heard you been talking to that pogue," rafe looked into the distance, you could tell he was trying his best to remain calm. "what's his name? pope."

you were confused as to how he would even know that, but to be honest it was probably best you didn't know. "just texting." you immediately defend yourself. "just friendly."

"friendly huh?" rafe scoffs. "do y'know how many guys would love to be 'just friendly' with you?"

"really rafe?" you dropped your legs from his lap. only rafe would invite you over to resolve things just to start another argument.

just as you were about to get up from his lap, he pulled you back down onto it. "cmon don't leave now," rafe moved your hair to the side, leaving the side of your neck that was closest to him on full display. "was just teasin'." his hot breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine.

“i don’t want to be teased.” you sighed under your breath.

“what do you want?”

“i want you to love me.” a singular tear fell down your face, rafe immediately wiping it.

“i do love you,” rafe’s voice was soft in a way you’d never heard before. “i love you more than,” you could tell he was really trying to pick his next words wisely. “i love you more than everything.” rafe kissed you on the cheek, his wet lips colliding with your wet tears.

and maybe that was also half the reason you couldn’t leave rafe. you knew that deep down aside from all the bad things he’s done to you; he has real love in his heart, he just doesn’t know how to show it.

#kind of hate this idk #toxic!rafe #sweetheart!reader #bookshelf #rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader

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pirateprincessblog · 7 months ago

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outlaw

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.

"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.

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."

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?"

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."

feedback greatly appreciated! <3

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