#its tied to another one and another one and another one etc etc

[just-some-random-blogger]

Observant

Being the Hand's young, second wife came with a lot of responsibilities, one of which was mellowing the frustrations of your husband.

Otto Hightower x Reader | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, age difference/age gap, smut (piv, slight dub con, degradation kink, breeding kink, overstimulation, anal fingering, dacryphilia, sadism, praise kink) fluff I guess, typos, etc.

A/N: so i made a poll on what to write and fluff won and this is literally pwp but it has a fluffy ending (???) so it counts HAHAHAH IDK OTTO BRAIN SHOT. LOBOTOMY ME IDC I HAVE TO GO TO WORK NOW BYE. A great day to be an otto fucker amirite HAHAHAH cross posted on ao3

You take in a breath the moment you reach the Hand's office. A chill runs down your spine as the night air seeps through your robe and night dress.

In truth, you figured your husband would have appreciated not being interrupted by you, though his pointed instruction otherwise, but there was another truth you answered to: that is, the ache between your legs that your fingers could not quell.

Even now, there was a heat that spread, which only intensified at the thoughts you knew would come to life the moment you knocked on your husband's office door. So you do.

"Who is it?" the deep voice snapped with as much intensity as a rabid dog.

Your belly instantly rolls. You rub is as you tighten your robe with one hand. The other, which was holding your lamp, shivers under its weight. You weakly manage to muster, "tis I, my lord."

A beat of silence.

You stiffen at the sound of heavy footsteps marching your way. A soft gasp leaves your lips when the door swings open and the face of the Lord Hand was glares at you.

"What is it, girl?" Otto hisses, both his hands resting on the sides of the door opening. His frame overwhelms you. His eyes are tired and his jaw is tense. 

Yes, you did always feel like some petulant little girl under the scrutiny of your much older husband. You lick your lips and exhale deeply to calm yourself. Simply, you remind him of his own words from earlier today, "tis the hour of the owl."

Lord Hightower is unmoved.

"I've come to fetch you."

A vein at the side of his neck threatens to pop. He pulls away and heads to his desk, "I have much to do, thanks to the fucking king."

You purse your lips at his words, thinking about the said man. Aegon was around your age, if not a bit younger, and at some point you had been friends, until you were promised to his grandfather.

You walk up to Otto's side and he rather instantly makes a spectacle of his abundant papers. He rants heatedly about it for a good moment, before turning to you. His face is worn and his shoulders squared, "I will not waste my time further by explaining this to you. Leave."

Otto places a hand on your bum and pushes you off. You budge, for after all, he was a man much bigger than you, even if no longer in his prime. Your hand darts to his desk to keep yourself upright, and the hand holding your lamp grips it firmly so that it would not slip. You return to your previous position as the man continues with his work.

"L e a v e," he drags out with audible vexation, "now."

"No."

He freezes.

"You will leave," you correct "—this room. Tis the hour of the owl."

Otto turns to you, offended, "you command me?"

You clench you jaw, "you command yourself. I am simply your obedient servant, lord husband."

Your lord husband stands. He towers over you and presses close, so close that he takes your lamp and puts it out, leaving it ignored on his desk, "am I not commanding you now?"

Your heart races when he takes your neck, thumb pressing on your throat as he rubs it. He can feel your raging pulse and it excites him, but not as much as your next words do, "you are you unkind when you are exhausted."

"To whom?" 

"To everyone," you mutter, "you must retire."

Otto releases your neck and heads for the door, "I will not."

Your brows furrow as you watch him storm off.

You realize only what he meant after following him into your shared chambers.

He grabs you from behind and sinks his face into your neck. You feel his beard against your skin and his hands eagerly clawing down your body. He pushes you into bed and you manage to look over your shoulder for the few seconds as he undoes his breeches. Not a second later, he pushes you on the sheets and pulls your skirt up.

You whimper into the cushion, bringing your face to the side as he rests his weight between your shoulders. He clenches his jaw as he grabs your hip. You obediently shift on your knees and gasp when he rubs his groin into yours. He sighs out a string of profanities when he feels your wetness. He pulls back and looks at the softness of your thighs, inspecting the pooling lust on your cunt. He rubs your clit, "my cherubic wife, so ready to be taken by her aged husband."

Your belly trembles as he uses your warm slick to flick your sensitive nub, leaving you to do nothing but curl your toes and whine into the sheets.

"Body so eager to be molded by my cock," he mutters. He slowly sinks two fingers into your weeping folds. He stretches you with his fingers and sinks deep, relishing the warm stickiness coating his digits, "so pretty like this. More so with my seed mixed with your arousal, dripping down your puckered cunt."

He continues to serve you with his fingers until pressure builds in your stomach. Then, with no warning and little care, Otto replaces his fingers with his hardened cock and fucks you thoroughly from behind. The hand he hand by your shoulder blades tingle into your hair. His other hand tirelessly works on your clit, expertly rubbing them that your body writhes under his weight.

You are trapped beneath him, however. He need only push on your head and lock your legs with his; you can do nothing else to do but take his cock and his fingers.

The sound of wet slapping skin and your uncontrollable whimpers dampen out the creaking and thudding of your bed against the stone wall. Quickly, your breathing began to grow strained and Otto gave no indication of slowing, especially not when he merited a scream from your lips from the pleasure building hotly in your stomach.

"Otto, Otto-" you begin to whine, nails ripping into the sheets, "w-wait— I-"

He furrows his brows at your words, offended that you would instruct him grant your reprieve. Just as he felt your slick building against his clothes? Even if he wanted to stop to catch his breath, he would not.

Alas, mortal man still was he, and his plowing had to slow. Slow, not stop. Though his arm began to tire, his fingers did not relent their assault on your swollen clit. He made up for any delays with slower but harsh flicks of his hip.

Your peak caught both of you off guard, and you came around his cock with a ghastly noise that made him stab your womb roughly in surprise. He stops moving altogether soon after.

Upon realizing the absolute bliss that seized your form, he puts all of his focus on your clit, wanting nothing but to make you shake and tighten around his wet cock as much as he possibly can.

The wind is knocked out if your lungs and your eyes water at the intensity of it all. And soon, it was all too much for you. It was all far too much, and yet he did not stop.

"Otto," your voice is hoarse as you sob into the dampened sheets, dampened with your tears and saliva.

He does not acknowledge you at all. He continues rubbing your pulsing clit with his fingers no matter how much your belly shook or your thighs trembled. He adores your mousy noises. He pulls your head back by your hair bit and slowly begins to thrust into you until the bed begins to creak at the intensity again.

It's too much, and the noise that rips out of you is nothing but further indication of this.

Your body struggles beneath him, your parted thighs that turned to putty were now shifting frantically in the hope to be free of this overwhelming sensation. You clench and unclench around him, hips pushing forward and back in an attempt to break away, but it, in fact, only makes your heady husband double down on his efforts to keep you in place.

His fingers only then finally leave your abused clit, but any form of recuperation you could get is stolen by the way both his veiny hands grip your hips and his manhood invades your cunny, intent on staking its claim.

He grunts as he looks down at your helpless form. He does nothing but use you for his pleasure and he cares little of whether or not your pretty pussy will tighten and quiver around him again.

Otto rubs your bum then coats his thumb with your slick before pushing it into your vacant rear, enough to hook into you and to make you squeal.

Soon enough, he can feel his legs ache and his belly burn. He ignores the former and his energy is sustained by the promise of filling his shaking bride with his come and watching it drip out of her.

Otto is silent while you noisily protest beneath him. Just as he begins to feel his balls tighten, he feels your cunt squeeze him again. Your neck strains as he bends down to lean into you, "take it, come slut. You know want you want to."

"S't-too much," you whine, tears rolling down your face.

Otto could not care less and begins to rub your clit again. You scream out in response and it's enough to make him reach his peak.

He slams into you with no steady tempo. He cares only for the pleasure raging on his cock and wants only to empty his balls into his warm, raggedly bride. As he does just that, feeling come and sweat drip from your garment to the sheet, he takes a few more thrusts, shallow ones where he does not move out of you very much, to ensure he thoroughly stuff all his heated lust into you.

And ever the dutiful husband, he plays with your clit for as long as it takes to make you scream and spasm into another pretty peak

Your nose is running as you sob, but the twist of your expression tells him that you were enjoying every second of it. He laughs, deeply, contentedly, pinning you against him and the bed. He doesn't listen to you until he is more than assured every bit of pleasure is wrung out of your darling body.

You begin to whine again like the tearful babe you were. You whisper an exhausted plea, "please, no more, Otto. Please."

He shushes you and pinches your clit, just to see you flinch and hear you beg some more. And beg you do, "n-no more, please," through sniffles.

He grips your jaw and kisses your salty cheek. He pulls you both to your sides, unwilling to pull out just yet. He has to ascertain his seed catches in your snug womb. He massages your breasts, imagining them get bigger for the babe he fucked into you. He pinches your nipples, making you whine again.

"O-Otto-"

"All is well, wife," he mutters, releasing his hold, only because you pushed his hand away. You lean into him as he rubs your belly. He rubs your nape with his nose, "good girl."

[demenior]

Belated wip Wednesday:

Fealty Eadwulf and Jester are just so 🥺💕 to me:

“Do you feel safe with me? I want you to feel safe with me.”

Eadwulf’s brows furrow into his trademark scowl, “keeping you safe is my job.”

“No, you take care of Fjord. Who takes care of you?”

Eadwulf scowls at the floor. Jester wonders if he heard her. Then, he glances up, realizes she’s still watching him, and stares at the floor. His scowl breaks.

“…you did. With the pirates.”

“And the healing,” she adds. It strikes her that she’s never hesitated to use her healing magic on him. The rest of the Nein always teased her about being reluctant to waste spells, but it’s never crossed her mind to not heal Eadwulf. The only person she does that to is Fjord.

Eadwulf nods silently.

“Did Astrid take care of you?”

The furrow in his brows is back, but it’s not for his usual scowl.

“Our methods are different.”

“How?”

Eadwulf glances at the blankets strung up over their heads, “not so much coddling.”

Jester stifles a giggle at the thought of Astrid and the other Scourgers making blanket forts. It’s like putting a funny hat on a lion. “No blanket forts?”

Eadwulf’s face relaxes to the point it may even be called a smile, “no.”

“And you took care of her?”

Eadwulf shrugs, “she is the Master. That is my job.”

“I think your Master is supposed to take care of you. Or else what good are they?”

Eadwulf’s shoulders come up, “Trent trained us well. We’re not soft. We don’t need pampering. Don’t mistake me for human.”

“You keep saying that.”

[aq2003]

i saw a post saying boom was good bc it feels like it could be done with any doctor/companion duo and honestly that was one of the things i felt was wrong with it

[saingirl101]

I just realized this knowing about the spoilers for NeverAfter and PiB:TLW

Death "The Wolf":

[abimee]

was wondering why i was hating the writing so bad and found out the creator works on hazbin hotel so it all makes sense now

[unusualshrimp]

hey sorry i can't come to work today im thinking about the various implications of zombie horror and the way it affects people

[nomaishuttle]

well nvm gets scared. made a poll but now im scared bc its music based

[scarletttbitch]

its that time of year when my exes start missing me and i get the weirdest texts with absolutely no context

[waffliesinyoface]

a fun thing in the naruto universe is how names work

because like, in japan, the polite thing to do is call people by their LAST names, with given names being like. a friends/family thing?

except, in the naruto universe, they had the clan wars, which went on for GENERATIONS before the hidden villages were formed. And clan tensions were so tight that if you introduced yourself by your last name, someone might just try to kill you because your clan is allied with a clan thats allied with another clan who is an enemy of the person you're talking to.

obviously, this was a hassle.

so, there was like, an unspoken rule of only giving your first name, as seen with Hashirama and Madara. Because if you didn't know for a fact that someone was a senju or an uchiha, you could just treat them as another ninja and mutually decide not to kill each other. Things like the sharingan or any notable techniques would be a dead giveaway, but as long as you're not fighting, everyone can just. Politely not ask questions.

but also, because clans are important, they still want to have something which ties the clan together, if last names are omitted from conversation with outsiders.

This is less important in the modern era, but it's still present - everyone in naruto's academy class, even students who aren't friends, exclusively use their classmates first names. Even the teacher isn't immune, he's called Iruka-sensei, not Umino-sensei.

Which is why most clans have first names with common, repeated elements, especially where the main line comes in.

Ino/Shika/Chou is the obvious one, but you also have things like the Hyuuga having a history of the first-born having their name start with Hi (Hizashi, Hiashi, Hinata, Himawari, etc.) or the senju having -rama (Hashirama, Tobirama, Kawarama), the Inuzuka being named after animal body parts (Tsume - claw, Kiba - fang, Hana - nose), all sorts of stuff like that.

It works both in universe (clan loyalties and traditions) and out of universe (group similar characters together)!! its really neat!!!

kishimoto did a lot of dumb things with the Lore and consistently forgot details he'd written about earlier on, but when he DOES have a consistent worldbuilding thing it's super cool to think about.

[harmoonix]

🧡 Fever Dream 🧡

🌊 PART II 🌊

🌊¨*•.¸¸🌊*･ﾟ🌊¨*•.¸¸🌊*･ﾟ🌊¨*•.¸¸🌊*･ﾟ🌊¨*•.¸¸🌊*

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Let's celebrate, calling all beautiful creatures

Come spread your wings, dance, and sing songs about

freedom

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🧡 It is known that people with Leo Placements or stellium have beautiful/healthy skin, no matter the skin color, all of them look beautiful

🧡 Scorpio Placements at women may play a big role with their menstrual cycle, healing period, and even surgerys

🧡 Uranus in the 6th, 8th, and 12th houses gives more spiritual growth and intense transformations in the natives life

🧡 Uranus in the first houses (from 1st to the 5th) here Uranus can be the most creative, open to new ideas, taking risks and can create an independent native

🧡 Neptune - Uranus aspects make the native to be in touch with the universe, more spiritual, more awake, higher potential

🧡 Venus conjuct/sextile/trine Neptune makes the native more compassionate, offering a good lasting bound with their partners

🧡 Neptune in the 1st house natives is probably one of the most empathic places to have Neptune in, giving a sensible nature to the native

🧡 Neptune in Aries Degrees 1° 13° 25°" have doubts when believing in themselves because soemtimes Neptune can create illusions about how you're not good enough

🧡 Pisces Moon/12th moon is another of those empathic placements, they can create tied relations with the other people in their lives and often can become needy

🧡 Sun or Moon at 29° is very powerful. Both of these planets indicate that the soul is very old and possibly living its last reincarnation

🧡 Saturn in the 6th/12th is in a place where Saturn needs rest to heal, can get overwhelming fast, stress does no good

🧡 Mercury in the 1st house is beautiful! Vital placement. You can easily adapt to every situation, giving you the aura of a chameleon

🧡 Sun at 10° 22° can make your personality seem more wise behind your years, mature, career focused, talking about work 24/7

🧡 Mercury or Venus in the 3rd house creates a sense of happiness in the natives life, can be their friends, their siblings, or simply their hobbies

🧡 Leo Venus/Leo in the 7H/Leo Moon, somehow you want your spouse to put you as a priority in their lives because relationships - focus can matter so much for you

🧡 Virgo Venus or Moon gives a lot of credit to their love for nature, may love gardering, forest walks, going out in nature

🧡 Saturn or Sun in the 7th house natives, make sure to always set standards for your love life because nowadays, hookup culture is so normalized that it may ruin your views for a potential relationship

🧡 If you have a mercury in the 7H, you probably appreciate honesty in your relationships, hates to be lied by their partners so they rather accept the hard truth

🧡 If you have Pluto in the 7H, you can be manipulated by others.And you may have a hard time understanding what it means to be loved properly and in a healthy way

🧡 Venus in Aquarius or Sagittarius can value freedom in their relationships. They would rather have a very open-minded spouse who can give them the necessary freedom that they need in their lives. Don't chain them up

🧡 Venus in water signs may not crave sex as much as feelings and love. For the water element, the feelings are very important . They may seek more comfort than pleasure, and this probably fits more for Cancer Venus

🧡 Venus in aquarius or venus in the eleventh house can also indicate that maybe there's a chance for you to have online relationships

🧡 Sun at 2° 14° 26° degrees gives earthy beauty features to the native, can be the eyes, the eyebrows, the lips, etc

──────────────────────

One for the jungle família

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🧡 Mercury in sagittarius or gemini, or pisces, may have a desire to learn other languages. Other traditions are other cultures different from theirs

🧡 7th house ruler in the 9th house may crave to explore the world together with their partners. Traveling together *vice versa*

🧡 If you have your Venus in an Earth sign, that's probably the biggest indicator that you really need a stable partner in your life.Someone who can stay for long and someone who can support you in every situation

🧡 You know these people that search for traditional family and traditional relationships and traditional whatever..they probably have Venus in the 4th house or venus in capricorn or a good aspected 4th house in their chart

🧡 Lilith in the 4th/10th or in Capricorn/Cancer can give strict parents, sometimes controlling parents as well

🧡 Lilith square/opposition/conjunct Mars or Venus may indicate getting sexualized, liked only for their bodies and not who they truly are

🧡 Uranus in the 7th house can sometimes indicate a native who dated multiple people in the past or had more relationships

🧡 If you have a fire moon but your chart is full of water placements, the moon may not act as impulsive and rather more emphatic (Fire Moons are known to be impulsive natives)

🧡 Having Neptune in the 9th house is one of the most beautiful placements if you wanna be more connected with the universe

🧡 Jupiter - Ascendant aspects natives are usually lucky even in situations they don't realize, the aspects can bring material suceess

🧡 Jupiter in Cancer they have a big, empathetic heart and a desire to make others feel cared for. They love to share their love

🧡 Jupiter in Taurus brings a stable, secure energy to your life and relationships. It encourages patience, diligence, and hard work, which leads to financial success

🧡 Moon in the 9th house/Moon at 9° 21° degrees. These natives are mostly travel addicts and get emotional satisfaction by exploring new cultures and traditions and broadening their horizons.

🧡 Attracting Happiness - Aspects in the chart (list)

Jupiter - Moon aspects

Jupiter - Venus aspects

Jupiter in the 1h/4h/5h/7h/12h

Sun - Ascendant aspects

Mercury - Venus aspects

🧡 Leo Moon/Rising loveeeee to recieve compliments from others, a thing about Leo placements is that they wanna feel loved and appreciated, is kinda a like love language to them

🧡Having Saturn at 29 degrees can represent that this life can be your ultimate lesson, is a draining energy but its also an ending energy, lots of hugs to you

🧡Capricorn Sun/Moon/Rising, with any of these placements in your chart, you’ll notice the energy of Capricorn come up quite prominently for you in many aspects of life, being more inntrovert, dark, mysterious, loyal, saturn´s lover

🧡Mars - Pluto aspects may show signs of anger - issues, high intensity in the natives life, (If you have them in the same house...hold on dear life)

🧡Mars in the 1st/6th/10th/12th house, the native had to learn to be independent from a young age, they had to grow and mature leading to emotional pain

🧡Uranus in the 1st house is totally a break - free placement, self - improving, rebellious nature and wants to do the things their own way

🧡Sun aspecting Pluto natives have an inner pwerful world. They do not let everyone around them, meaning they have their own social circle and wanna be more hidden because nobody knows that much about them. Keeping everything private

🧡Lilith in the 6h/12h might create a hate - love relationship with other people, sometimes you hate them, sometimes you like/love them. Can also have lots of enemies or bad people around

🌊¨*•.¸¸🌊*･ﾟ🌊¨*•.¸¸🌊*･ﾟ🌊¨*•.¸¸🌊*･ﾟ🌊¨*•.¸¸🌊*

──────────────────────

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

──────────────────────

🌊¨*•.¸¸🌊*･ﾟ🌊¨*•.¸¸🌊*･ﾟ🌊¨*•.¸¸🌊*･ﾟ🌊¨*•.¸¸🌊*

I hope you all have an awesome Friday and weekend. Here is a new post! Enjoy 💙 harmoonix 💙💙💙

[vonlycaonwife]

Hello! I hope that you’re doing well! You were the first one I saw in my search bar, and I saw how dedicated you were about lycaon and the others characters, it’s really cool :D I hope that your requests are open, I would like to ask for a lycaon x shy reader (NSFW) fic, about the progress of their relationship, there can be mention of first time/how do they get along from beginning to now, etc, if it’s okay with you! Please do take your time! I look forward to it (*^^*)

Koi... I just wanted to say that you completely made me insane because I was BLUSHING THE WHOLE TIME WRITING THIS AAAA- also I completely focused on the first time because as soon as I saw those words I locked in lmao.

Also sorry for how long this took to finish

Warning: smut, fingering, knotting, afab reader, partially written before release

You and Lycaon had been in a relationship for a long time at this point, but the both of you had decided to take things extremely slow. Both because of your own insecurities with your body, and with him being sure because of his kind mating for life. Sure you two would do some makeouts and heavy petting, but it had never led to anything further than that.

That was until now, when you both were lip locked into a heated session. His hands were warm against your skin as they traveled under your shirt, your own hands were tightly grabbing at the fur on his neck. You could feel his bulge pressing against you, making you moan loudly. The loudness seemed to surprise him, making him pause and stop kissing you. You both were panting hard, a harsh flush on your faces.

“We should stop here.” Lycaon grunted out, his hands now on your hips to keep you in place.

Your eyes widened a bit, surprised at his words. But you honestly didn’t want to stop, you felt ready to finally take that step with your love. In an attempt to let your thoughts known you leaned forwards, pressing your chest against his as you tried to get the words out. “I…um.”

A small smile made its way to his face, clearly amused. “Use your words.”

“I-I don’t…do we have to stop?” You finally asked, face flushed in embarrassment. Your hands gripped onto his shirt in comfort, slightly trembling from nerves. But soon you realized with a thought that he might not be ready, he might not want to be permanently tied to you for any reason. You began to feel stupid for potentially making him uncomfortable. But before your thoughts could make you backtrack on your words, you felt him suddenly move fast, quickly pinning you down onto the bed below. You were frozen as you stared into his calculating eyes, studying your face and movements. It wasn’t often you saw that look in his eyes, the look of a predator studying its prey. 

“Do you want to continue?” He asked, leaning even closer to you.

“I-I mean we don't have to! I don't even know what I was saying! I-” You stuttered out, trying to take it back. But the way his stare turned slightly harsh and his grip on your waist tightened made you stop with a squeak. The two of you stared at one another for a moment before he finally spoke.

“Just be honest with me.”

You gulped down the last of your remaining confidence. “I…I want to…to uh…”

You could feel the heat from your cheeks as you attempted to word your thoughts. “I want to take the next step…if you want to, that is.”

He doesn't respond for a moment, seemingly to think it over. While you normally would be able to read him most of the time, this was one of those times you couldn't decipher what kind of thoughts were in his head. But luckily he seemed to already make a decision, leaning down to give a quick kiss to your forehead. “Alright, but are you really sure you're ready?”

“I’m just…worried.” He continued. “While I know I’ve warned you plenty of times, I’m not…I just don’t want to bring you any harm.”

“But, you wouldn’t let that happen.” You whispered, knowing his ears would be able to hear your words. You move your hands to cup his face, giving him a soft smile. “I…I really do want this.”

He looked into your eyes one more time, before he smiled back, nuzzling his nose into your cheek. His clawed hand made its way under your shirt, softly moving against your skin. You shivered at the feeling, your hands clutching onto his own shirt. Although you couldn’t get a good look at his face, you could tell he was still studying your reactions. Soon his hand reached just below your chest, traces shapes softly. His other hand had moved to meet with the first, bringing the cloth up along with it. He didn’t make any other moves, making you realize he was waiting for your permission. You nodded, allowing him to remove your shirt.

You could hear him inhale deeply as he studied your body, a small fire in his eyes. He gently moved his hands over your chest, finger tips softly pinching at your nipples. You gasped at the feeling, immediately moving a hand to cover your mouth. He let out a small growl in disapproval. “Don’t.”

You whimpered, removing your hand. You squeezed your thighs together, the harsh sound of his growls always made you more wet. You could tell he knew by the smirk on his face, but before you could say anything he leaned down to seal your lips together in a heated kiss. You gasped in surprise, giving him the opportunity to thrust his tongue into your mouth. Soon you were moaning loud as both his tongue and his hands explored your mouth and chest, occasionally rolling your nipples to elicit even more from you. As he did this you felt his knee press against your sex, adding more stimulation. 

Your hands clutch onto his shirt tightly as he continued his ministrations on your chest, whimpering as you felt your body began to tremble from the pleasure slowly rising. When he released the kiss you could see his smugness in his eyes as he looked at your whimpering state, soon leaving a trail of kisses down your neck. His fangs teased your skin, making you stutter out his name in surprise. As he rarely liked to leave hickeys as for not wanting to go too far, but it seemed right now he had no such reservations.

Without you somehow noticing, probably due to all the new and old stimulus, his hand had replaced his knee and was slowly lowering your shorts. You gasped once realizing, hands clutching even tighter onto him. He paused for a second, seemingly hesitant, before you let out a begging whine, allowing him to remove your bottoms. His fingers gently traced your sex, trying to both not hurt you with his claws, but also lubricate his fingers with your slick. Once wet enough, he slowly inserts a digit, kissing your skin as you gasp.

You could feel his digit circle around inside, exploring where to touch that made you release louder noises. You could also feel him inhale your scent, shuddering a bit. He inserted a second one, carefully moving them so as to not cause any pain. You whimpered at the feeling of your walls being stretched by him, his fingers doing much more than what your own could do. 

He shushes you quietly, kissing your cheek tenderly. “It's okay, just gotta make sure you're prepared.”

“I-I know! It's just-” You moaned loud as he inserted a third finger, barely able to get any more words out as he curled his fingers just right to hit that spot your own could barely reach. You cried his name as the pleasure began to pulse through your veins, making you squirm under his body as a coil tightens inside. You barely heard him groan as you tightened around his digits, legs shuddered as the intense feeling began to become overwhelming.

But before it could reach its breaking point, he stops. Pulling his fingers out carefully, you could feel him tense as you whine out. He kisses your neck once more before lifting himself up to rest on his legs and quickly pulls his shirt off, chuckling when he catches you staring at his physique. He leaned down to give you a quick kiss, before trailing down to your neck, then your chest, and even further down. You clutched the bed sheets below, flustered as he went closer and closer to your sex. As he reaches the area, you yelp as his tongue swipes on your clit, swirling the bud around as he lightly sucked on it.

You could see his ears twitch at your gasps, clearly paying attention to your noises. His hands firmly grasp onto your shaking thighs, pushing them further apart to give him better access. You could feel him groan as he began to dive his tongue into your warmth, his grip tightening slightly. You moaned as the lost pleasure from the before came back at full force, making you shudder and cry in his hold. His nose prodded at the bundle of nerves as he attempted to thrust his tongue even further inside. If you hadn't closed your eyes from the overwhelming feeling, you would've noticed his tail moving behind him as he ate you out.

“A-Ah! Wait!” You tried to warn, but your words were interrupted by your own scream as the building orgasm finally tipped over the edge. Your body shook intensely as your veins flooded in pleasure. Your moans took a higher pitch as you began to feel another building up, back arching as the thirian refused to stop using his tongue to please you. “T-Too much!”

He seemed to not be listening, too absorbed in your taste to register your cries. His eyes were closed in concentration, groaning in pleasure as well. You reached a hand to grab a fistful of the fur on his head, finally snapping him out of his fixation. He growled, opening his eyes to glare at whatever stopped him, before he realized it was you. He stayed frozen as he stared at you panting wildly, barely able to catch your breath. His tight grip loosened, letting your legs some relief.

The look in his eyes was rare, the restraint he always had on him was close to disappearing. His muscles tensed as he breathed, trying to regain control of himself. He opened and closed his mouth multiple times, trying to form some words. But before he could you gestured him to lean closer, kissing him as he complied very quickly. You both hummed, taking in the gentle kiss. Once you both stopped he looked down at you with such tenderness it almost made you cry.

“Are you really sure it's okay?” He asked, his hands cupping your face to keep you from looking away from him. “I don't know how much self control I'll have once we take that step.”

“I'm okay with that.” You responded, voice barely a whisper. “I want you, Lycaon.”

He inhaled at your words, his eyes darkening in lust. He kissed you quickly, diving his tongue once more into your mouth as he took his bottoms off. You whine as he grabs one leg to lift higher, his other carefully lining the head of his member against your folds. He leaned away to press his forehead against yours and look deep into your eyes. “One more chance to stop.”

“Please, just do it already!” You whined out, uncaring of how desperate you looked. Your whole body felt like it was on fire as you felt his fur against your skin. He chuckled, taking you into another liplock as he finally thrust himself inside. You moan into his mouth as he slowly glides deeper and deeper in your warmth, swallowing his own moans. Once his hips meet yours, you both release the kiss but stay close, panting heavily. His hands keep a tight hold on your hips to prevent you from moving, as even the slightest made you hyper aware of how full you felt.

The stretch was something you knew would happen, but it didn't stop you from shivering. You closed your eyes to focus on anything else, adjusting to the feeling. Luckily it wasn't painful, but it was a sensation you weren't used to. You could feel him place small kisses along your jaw and neck in an attempt to soothe you, making you smile at the affection. Soon he began to move, slowly inching his length to and fro. You sighed in pleasure as you adjusted to the feeling of him moving, breath hitching whenever he prodded at that one spot that made you shudder.

But after some time you realized how tense he was, his eyes closed in concentration as the hand that wasn't holding your leg was almost tearing through the sheets. You felt bad at how much restraint he was forcing on himself, clearly still afraid of accidentally hurting you. Making a quick decision, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and opened your lips.

“M-More.” You stuttered, face flushing as he opened his eyes to stare at you. “Please!”

A growl slipped past his lips, his grip tightening. He quickly pressed his face against your neck, inhaling your scent again as if it was the only thing keeping him sane. Soon his pace began to speed up, but it still wasn’t enough for you. You needed more, you needed him to not restrain himself. You plead out to him this and he growls in response.

“Do you know what you’re even asking?” He gets out, both hands now clawing into the sheets. “I can barely hold myself together.”

“Don’t!” You squeaked, his thrusts becoming rougher to emphasize his words. “I-I can handle it!”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes!”

Suddenly you felt his hands grab onto your legs, lifting them over his shoulders as he pressed his chest to yours. You arch your back as you feel him reach even deeper inside you. His hands clasp into yours, preventing them from moving as he bucks his hip with wild abandon. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

All you could feel was him, the way his hips slammed into yours, the way he folded you in half, the way his warmth encapsulated you, the way he held your hands gently yet firmly like it was his lifeline, the way he stared into your eyes with such passionate lust and love. It was beginning to be too much for your emotions, tears falling down your face as you felt your body spasm under him from orgasming. You could barely hear his words of encouragement, his voice soothing you for a moment, before you cried out as the pressure began to build quickly once more. You could even feel his own climax approaching by the way he growled into your hair. You hardly even noticed his knot beginning to swell, prodding at your entrance with every pivot of his hips. When you thought he would lean away, you begged him to stay. Honestly you didn’t even know what you were begging for at the moment, you just wanted him to stay close. 

And it seemed your pleads were what finally sent him over the edge. His teeth bite onto your neck, not deep enough to cause any bleeding but you knew you would feel it later, and his knot slammed inside. You shout as both of your orgasms hit, the pleasure washing over both of you like tidal waves. He quickly removes himself from your neck, pressing his li[s against yours as you both come down from your highs. You squirmed in his hold, the feeling of his seed inside you becoming a discomfort. “Feels weird.”

“Sorry.” He chuckled, nuzzling his muzzle into your cheek. “Give it a few moments.”

And just like he said, soon he removed his length from you. The both of you sighing at the lost feeling of being one. Your eyelids began to feel heavy, but his hands cupped your cheek. “Don’t fall asleep yet, love, let me clean you up.”

“Okay.” You said tiredly, unable to move since your body felt so heavy. He only shook his head and carefully lifted you into his arms, heading over to the bathroom with no hesitation to start the bathtub. He made sure to keep you awake as he softly ran his hands over your body, making sure to be extra careful of any accidental bruises he saw. Once he was satisfied with the cleanliness of both you and himself, he lifted you up into his hold once more and walked back to bed.

He carefully placed you down on the mattress, choosing to ignore the small tear holes for now, quickly laying beside you and tucking you both under the blanket. He wrapped his arms around you tenderly, his tail moving to lay on top of your legs. You snuggled into his fluffy chest, the urge of sleep finally taking its hold on you.

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hatred & Love

"... burn in the same intensity," Gwayne laughs as I walk off. His expression softens but no one but him will ever know. He links his hands together, "or so I'm told, princess."

Gwayne Hightower x Targaryen!Reader | 700< | cw: fem!reader, enemies to lovers, fuck boy!gwayne, fluff ig, when daemon said hightower cunt he meant gwayne because he Serves™, typos, etc.

I saunter down the hall on my way back to my chambers. My ears perk at the sound of laughter from the distance. Immediately, my jaw tightens in recognition, and my feet quicken its pace. I squeeze my hands together, wanting nothing more than to avoid whom I knew I might encounter.

The gods fail me as I spot the aggravating Hightower, merrily loitering in the gardens with his company. Dare they drink in broad daylight? Clad in his sigil and armor, no less.

Tactless.

Apparently, he had won another silly tourney. How irritating of him to celebrate in my home. The Keep would surely benefit from his absence. Gods know the peace I feel when he is not around.

Gwayne's eyes drift. I can feel him looking at my handmaids, at me, as we pass. He laughs at whatever foolishness his friend tells him; the noise grates at me. I scoff under my breath, "barbarian."

Gwayne smirks and calls out, "blessed morn, princess!"

"How can it, when you are here, and it is midday?" I retort, sparing him no glance or pause.

He chuckles as he stands. My face twists as I hear his clanking armour. My heart races at the sound of footsteps accelerating towards me.

My arm is pulled back. I shoot a glare at Gwayne and his stupid face as he releases me. His lopsided smirk aggravates me further as he says, "is a congratulations not in order?"

I snort, "for whom," I raise a brow, "for you?"

"For you," he tilts his head back, placing his hands behind him, "the most temperate princess of all. So comely, so-" his dimples show, "sweet."

I feel my face begin to tighten.

He sticks out his lower lip, "they had no one to crown queen of love and beauty in your absence. Twas a shame."

My head cocks to the side. My brows knit, "you mean you?"

"What?"

"You had no one to crown Queen of Love and Beauty," I step forward.

He stays put as I impose into his personal space. His eyes dart up and down; the muscle on his jaw feathers.

"Were you so anguished by my absence that the victory left a bitter taste in your lips?" I pout and sigh as I bring my hands behind me, effectively mocking him.

Gwayne watches how my chest sinks. His expression chips away a fraction, but it is enough to make me smirk, and I do so happily.

That is, until he licks his lips.

"Tis victory enough that you know of it," his smirk grows. Mine fades as he continues, "my heart sings at the newfound knowledge that you gossip about me, princess."

I chuckle dryly, admittedly louder than necessary, "I need no gossip! Tis not hard to hear about you, when your blabbermouth is audible even in the dungeon's depths!"

His defenses slip. A giddy chuckle escapes his diaphragm, and the rich sound makes my stomach drop. His eyes crinkle and his hands relax to his side. He lets himself relish his amusement before he mutters, "how then would I gain your attention?"

My lips part.

His brows raise.

My breath hitches.

Wind blows my silver hair into my mouth and the sound of me spitting it out snaps him out of his trance. Gwayne shifts on his leg, "perhaps I should pull your hair."

My upper lip curls at his childish response, and he chortles at my look of disgust. "You are a hateful beast," I roll my eyes and turn about.

"Hatred and love burn in the same intensity," Gwayne laughs as I walk off. His expression softens but no one but him will ever know. He links his hands together, "or so I'm told, princess."

[joelscurls]

give in to temptation

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

words: 5.5k

summary: you're in a relationship now — a good, healthy relationship — that doesn't stop you from texting your ex Javi late at night.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, post Narcos s3, porn with plot, smoking, alcohol consumption, explicit smut, sexting, infidelity (I do not condone cheating, but unfortunately it's hot when it's with Javi), reference to masturbation (f), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, use of pet names (cariño, querida, baby, etc.); lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: hi! enjoy 5kish words of dubious morals bc I couldn't get this idea out of my head :)

Humidity clings to the walls, bedsheets strewn across your legs damp with sweat. You kick at them aimlessly, and the cotton grips tighter to slick skin.

In the curve of your palm rests your phone, ringer switched off and brightness turned all the way down — the last thing you want is to wake your boyfriend, dozing next to you as you text another man.

Your fingers are clammy where they wrap around metal, sweat pooling in the divots between your knuckles. 

This is wrong; you know it’s wrong, just like every time preceding this one. But the guilt does nothing to slow the adrenaline racing through your veins. If anything, it makes your heart thump harder.

That, and the words pixelated on the tiny screen of your flip-phone.

Javi [2:03am]:  I’ve been thinking about you all day, cariño. Got me so hard.

You’d met Javier Peña just over a year ago. 

A young woman alone at the bar, you’d drawn him in like a moth to a flame. He had dark brooding eyes and a savior complex that’d been made more apparent with each story he’d shared about his time as a DEA attaché in Colombia, from which he’d recently returned.

Do you miss it? you’d asked, nursing a martini.

Like hell, he’d said. But I have nothing left to give.

I don’t know if I believe you, you’d countered with a wink.

Not an hour later, you’d found yourself in his living room, dress hiked up to your waist as he devoured you. 

Sex with Javi was easy, mindless. For a while, his body served as a refuge for you after shitty days at work and arguments with your overbearing mother. A lone beacon in the fog, he was always more than willing to help you forget the stressors in your life. And your own name.

It was passionate, and filthy, and sticky — left your legs trembling and your head dizzy — each and every time. 

With him, you didn’t have to talk. Didn’t have to think. It was just sex, with no strings and no labels. Your relationship, if you could call it that, was perpetuated by the transcendent pleasure you felt in the spaces between words, when your mouths were preoccupied.

But when your birthday came and went and you found yourself another year older, an aching feeling settled in your gut — a feeling that time had begun to pass more quickly than it used to. And on its heels came the desire for something more, something you knew Javi was not willing to provide: a relationship.

The decision to end things was mutual, amicable. It was the easiest “breakup” you’d ever gone through. Maybe because it wasn’t a “breakup” at all.

A few weeks later, you’d met Nathan, a law student with a polite disposition and an eagerness to settle down. He’d treated you well, the type to open doors for you and ask about your day. On all fronts, he was a good man — a little boring, but good.

After a month, you made it official. After two, he moved into your place.

And you stopped thinking about Javi, about the way his large hand had fit perfectly around your throat, the way he’d been able to coax you to orgasm in two different languages. No, you only thought about the man in front of you, the one with the steadily growing collection of argyle ties and the unstamped passport.

Sex with Nathan was admittedly different. He didn’t make you cum as quickly or as easily; your body didn’t crave his with the same amount of fervor it had Javier’s. But it was loving, sweet, what any woman would want…should want.

And it was normal that you thought about your ex sometimes when your current partner laid his weight on top of you, that you imagined a different mouth slotted against your neck or on your tits. Because certainly, everyone did that every once in a while. It was harmless.

As long as you never uttered his name out loud, he’d remain only in your head, lost to time to exist there forevermore.

But then came the day in the grocery store, on your date to the cereal aisle to restock Nathan’s favorite, bran flakes. He’d materialized like a ghost of good sex’s past.

You didn’t dare speak to him, didn’t trust yourself to. Under the bright fluorescent lights, you’d felt your palms begin to sweat, your throat constrict, eyes glued to the selection of boxes in front of you. But while Nathan debated between store brand and name brand, you’d snuck another cautious glance at him.

Javi’s expression was unreadable. He’d looked between you and Nathan as if he were trying to solve a rubix cube. One he was becoming increasingly frustrated by. He’d gripped the handle of his shopping cart so tightly, the skin on his knuckles appeared near translucent.

And then he’d disappeared, tiny wheels on the carriage screeching, noise barely audible over your pulse.

The first text came later that night.

Are you seeing someone? it’d read.

Yes, you’d replied. But that doesn’t mean we can’t talk. 

You’d quickly established ground rules: messages would only be exchanged after midnight, never two nights in a row, no calls, and — most importantly — Nathan would never find out.

Okay, Javi had said. Just one more rule: don’t use his name with me.

To your right, Nathan snores, the singular catch of an inhale in his throat, and the noise jolts you, face heating as if you’ve been caught.

Then he shifts, turns on his side, away from you. You feel a strange wash of relief. A semblance of privacy that you shouldn’t be after.

You respond to Javier with your tongue between your teeth.

You [2:04am]: thinking about me doing what?

Javi [2:06am]: Riding me. Your tits in my face. My hands on your ass.

 Your breath catches, attention abruptly pulled to the incessant throbbing between your legs.

You definitely shouldn’t sneak to the bathroom and touch yourself. Shouldn’t send Javi a grainy photo of your fingers in your panties. Shouldn’t make yourself cum with your ex-lover’s name on your lips.

Not for the third time this week.

But when your cunt inadvertently clenches around nothing, your judgment is suddenly clouded.

With one last glance at the sleeping form beside you, you clamber to your feet and tiptoe down the hallway, wetness dripping down your thighs as you go.

The bathroom door closes with a quiet click. You fumble for the lightswitch, eyes reflexively squeezing shut when the room brightens. 

You hover over the sink, steadying yourself against porcelain with one hand while you type furiously with the other.

You [2:10am]: yeah? you wanna suck on my tits?

The mirror parallel you reflects something out of a thriller, your pupils fully dilated and your forehead glistening with sweat. You almost don’t recognize the woman staring back at you in all her depravity.

You slump to the floor. Rest with your back to the side of the tub. 

Javi [2:11am]: Dying to. Always felt so fucking perfect in my mouth.

Desperate fingers slip under the hem of your shorts, into your panties. The phone balances precariously in your other hand, thumb stumbling over buttons on the keypad.

You [2:12am]: I miss your cock.

Javi [2:13am]: That’s right, querida. Best you ever had, huh?

You [2:13am]: Yes. Always made me feel so fucking good. 

Javi [2:15am]: Fuck. Are you touching yourself?

You swirl two digits at your entrance, amply coating them in your slick before dragging them up to your swollen clit. You can’t stifle the moan that slips past your lips.

You [2:16am]: yes

Javi [2:16am]: good girl

The phone distractedly tumbles from your grasp, clinking against tile as you begin to work yourself toward the brink.

And then — there’s a knock on the bathroom door.

The room spins, walls suddenly shrinking in on you as you wrench your hand out of your panties. Nathan’s voice on the other side is muffled, by the exhaust fan and by the ringing in your ears. But you can just decipher his words, his voice laden with sleep.

“Babe? Are you okay? I thought I heard-“

“Fine, I’m uh, I’m fine,” you say, scrambling to your feet, wiping wet fingers on your shorts.

The doorknob jostles, and it dawns on you then that you’d forgotten to fucking lock it.

 “No! Don’t come in,” you sputter. The door hitches, less than an inch cracked. “I just had a stomach ache, but I’m okay now. I’ll be back in bed in a minute.”

“Oh.” He yawns. Pulls it shut again. “Okay.”

You brace yourself against the sink, struggling to slow your racing heart. 

With a flush of the empty toilet, Nathan’s footsteps recede down the hall and out of earshot. You wash your hands, then, fingers shaking under the stream of lukewarm water.

You dry them hastily, not bothering to pick up the towel when it slides off the rail and onto the floor.

You [2:21am]: gotta go. sorry. 

Javi [2:22am]: ???

Nathan is far too kind the following morning. He sets a plate of buttered toast and a mug of peppermint tea out for you on the kitchen table, and presses a nauseatingly gentle kiss to your forehead as you eat.

His amber eyes scan you like he’s searching for any indicators that you’re still hurting, fingers anxiously carding through his sandy hair.

You’re sure he’s clocked the dark circles marking your undereyes — not that he knows the real reason for them.

“I’m fine,” you promise when you feel him staring.

“Are you sure?” he probes. “The noise you made was…intense; you sounded really pained.”

Pained? Not exactly.

“I know.” You stuff the last bite of toast into your mouth. Tilt the empty plate toward him.

“But I’m okay; see? Even have an appetite this morning. It was just a weird bug or something.”

The lie burns on the way out, scalds your throat. But Nathan buys it. Doesn’t ask any further questions.

Still, he tells you to take it easy today on his way out the door.

You can’t look him in the eye when you insist that you will.

You call out of work, too sick with self-loathing to show your face in the office. Instead, you mope around all day, attempt to distract yourself with the overflowing hamper of laundry in the closet.

It’s futile though, your brain paralyzed by thoughts of Nathan finding out about the affair, and the clothes remain unwashed.

He returns that evening with a plastic bag in his clutch, the local pharmacy’s logo printed on the front.

“Here,” he says, pulling out a brand new heating pad. “I realized last night that we didn’t have one of these laying around.”

You know, at that moment, that you need to end things with Javi.

Nathan is good to you. He loves you with actions, not just words. Thinks of you before he thinks of himself, in every situation. And you — you’re cheating on him. Taking advantage of him. Not even trying to be what he deserves.

You’ll try harder. To love him, to think of him. No longer will you give in to brainless, animalistic needs. Surely, you can mimic the passion you have with someone else if you just try. 

Try, try, try. You can do it.

Sleep evades you that night, coming in brief stints and leaving you breathless when you wake. 

In those conscious moments, the analog clock in the corner of the room taunts you, glaring red neon making your head pound.

After three straight hours of tossing and turning, you decide it can’t wait any longer.

You fish your cellphone off the nightstand. Snap it open.

You [3:23am]: We need to end this before things get ugly.

You’re sure he won’t be awake this late; not without reason. But then — the screen blinks.

Javi [3:24am]: Nothing’s going to get ugly. Please, cariño. 

You [3:24am]: I almost got caught last night. I don’t want to hurt him.

Javi [3:25am]: Can we talk about this? Javi [3:25am]: In person?

Your heart palpitates. For a moment, you swear it stops altogether.

You [3:26am]: What the hell? No Javi, I can’t.

Javi [3:27am]: C’mon. Just talk. Don’t you think you owe me that?

Your eyes flit to Nathan. 

You watch him for a long moment: the steady rise and fall of his chest, the slouch of his shoulders, the gape of his mouth.

He’s well and truly asleep. You’re sure you could sneak away without him waking. Slip out the door and get a cab to Javier’s, talk things through, and be back in bed before the sun rises — before Nathan even knows you’ve left. 

And then everything will be just as it was before you messed this up. You can leave Javi in the past, where he belongs. 

Of course, you’re not just going to talk. Deep in your bones, you know that. Know that when he’s there in front of you, you’ll be too weak to resist any of his advances.

Still, you play coy. Ignore the spring of excitement tightening in your abdomen. 

In a move of finality, one which you know you won’t be able to come back from, you stand. Make your way into your closet to pull some pants and a t-shirt on, your cell phone clutched in your hand. 

You [3:30am]: Fine.

Javier sends you his address — as if you’d have forgotten it. As if the name of his apartment complex isn’t permanently etched behind your eyelids, along with the wide slope of his shoulders and the plush of his bottom lip.

When the cab pulls up to the curb, the driver is visibly concerned. His bushy, gray brows thread together and his narrowed eyes catch yours in the rearview more than once on the drive across town.

It’s only when you reach Javi’s building and hand over your fare that the man speaks.

“Are you alright, sweetheart? Quite late for you to be out on your own.” 

His voice crackles, the smell of cigarette smoke heavy on his breath, and it’s strangely comforting. 

“Yeah,” you promise as you push the door open and step out.

He rolls his window down, anxiously watching as you maneuver your way to the front door. And then he’s driving off, headlights vanishing into the thick night.

Javier lets you up on the first buzz. He’s waiting for you in the entryway of his apartment, leaning with a large hand pressed to the doorframe.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him: shirtless, bronze skin cast in the dim yellow light of the corridor. 

His eyes rake over you the moment you’re in front of him, lingering when they catch on your collarbone, your breasts, your legs. He looks so imposing like this. You find yourself unable to move; frozen under his silent, lustful gaze.

“Are you — can I come in?” you ask meekly.

He nods then, a slow lift of his chin. Steps backward into darkness. You will yourself to take one step, and then another, following him over the threshold and past the point of no return.

It feels so odd to be here, in his space, with the intention of doing anything other than fucking. If you look close enough, you swear you can make out the shape of your body imprinted in the couch cushions, can hear lingering echoes of climaxes reached with your face shoved into one of his decorative pillows — can feel them, too.

Arousal pulls between your thighs. You ignore it.

You wonder how many other women have been here since you, have taken Javi in their hands or their mouths or their cunts. How many names that aren’t yours has he chanted in the throes of passion? 

And — moreover — why do you care?

You don’t. You definitely don’t.

Javi pours you a glass of wine, fills a crystal with whiskey for himself. He flicks a lamp on, casting the room in an orange glow, and settles into the couch You follow his lead, perching yourself on one of the arm rests apprehensively.

“So,” you start. “About what we’ve been…doing-“

He cuts you off with a quirk of his brow, a flinch of his jaw. 

“Javi,” you try again. “This has to — we can’t-”

“You’re sure you want to break it off, cariño?” His voice comes out low, dark.

And the thing is — you’re not sure. You wish you were, wish you had the strength to tell him definitively that it’s over, to go home to your boyfriend and block Javi’s number on the way out. 

But the flex of his bicep when he hooks his arm behind his head, the knowing smirk playing on his lips, his cock — which you can’t see, but know is long and thick under his jeans — it all makes your head feel heavy. 

You let the weight of it drop between your shoulders, hang there as you silently search for just a particle of sanity left in your being. You come up empty. 

“Fuck,” you hiss, claw your fingers into your scalp. “This is — fuck.”

Leather groans under Javi’s weight. He stands. Steps in front of you.

You don’t dare look at him, not until he pinches your chin between two fingers and forces your gaze to meet his. His eyes are charcoal-black, something devious swimming behind blown pupils.

“Baby,” he croons. “Why did you really come here?” 

You play dumb. “What do you mean? To — to talk.”

His thumb skates along the underside of your jaw, soft and placating.

“We’re not really gonna talk — are we?”

Your head spins, mind clouded by Javier’s words, his touch. You sense yourself losing resolve just as he pulls you upright by both hands. 

You’re so close like this; can taste the whiskey on his breath, can feel the warmth of his exhale against your skin.

His mouth moves to the shell of your ear, voice a mere whisper when he speaks again.

“Wanna know what I think, querida?” he asks, palm flattening at your lower back, pushing you flush against him. “I think you came here because texting wasn’t enough anymore, huh? Think you missed me.”

And the truth is, you have missed him — painfully so. You’ve missed the timbre of his voice, the caress of his hands, the stretch of his cock. All just in reach, tangible for the first time in so long.

Your need for him borders on carnal. The feeling snakes its way up from your stomach into the cavern of your ribcage, splays its weight across your delicate, pounding heart. 

And then the rational part of your brain whirs weakly to life.

What are you doing?

“I have a boyfriend,” you say. You’re not sure who you’re reminding. 

“Mhm,” Javi mutters, deft fingers peeling the fabric of your t-shirt up, up, up your body. You don’t stop him.

“And does your boyfriend —“ he kneels down, presses a kiss where exposed skin meets denim — “make you feel as good as I do, cariño?”

You can’t answer that. It wouldn’t be right. Because any of this is.

“Javi — I,” you try, cut off abruptly by dull teeth in the flesh of your waist. You yelp, the sweet sting quickly dissipating as he pauses. Pulls back. 

“You can say it,” he goads with a wicked smirk. “I won’t tell him.”

“He — no,” the words leave you before you even feel them in your mouth, and then you’re cursing yourself. You can’t take it back — it’s too late. Javi knows, you know. The only one still in the dark is Nathan. 

Javier says your name. His tone is different, soberingly serious. 

“Tell me to stop.” 

Fuck. 

“Tell me to stop,” he repeats, “and I’ll stop.”

“I can’t,” you whisper, so quiet you barely hear yourself. 

“Cariño-”

“I can’t,” you stammer, louder. “I — fuck, Javi. Please.”

“Please?”

He knows what you’re asking for; he just needs to hear you say it.

“Please fuck me.”

In an instant, he’s standing back up, grasping at your sides and impatiently guiding you onto the couch. He brackets you against the cushions, one hand splayed next to your head on the backrest, the other popping the button of your jeans open. 

You lift your ass as he tugs them down your legs, pulls them past your ankles and leaves them in a heap on the floor. And then he’s moving down your body, kneeling at your altar and prying you open for him.

You surrender to him willingly, desperation growing when he pulls your panties aside and gazes at your glistening sex, transfixed by you.

“This gorgeous pussy,” he hums, leaning down to taste you.

“Yeah?” you breathe. “You miss it?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he groans. Dips his tongue into the apex of your heat, refamiliarizing himself with your nectar before licking a languid stripe up to your throbbing clit.

You writhe under him, beg with wordless whines and whimpers for more. He knows your sounds, knows their tells, soothes you with a gentle shh against your cunt. 

His lips wrap around your clit, then, envelope it completely as he starts to suckle, and the sudden sensation makes you buck your hips.

“Javi — fuck, oh — holy-” 

He retreats, mouth shiny with your arousal. “What is it, baby? Your boyfriend doesn’t eat your pussy like this?”

“He doesn’t,” you admit breathlessly. Javi clicks his tongue. Faux-pouts at you. 

His lips reattach to your clit and you curse.

“Fuck, Javi, he — he’s never-“

The half-admission stops him in his tracks. He stares back up at you with narrowed eyes.

“Cariño, don’t tell me he doesn’t go down on you?”

Your face heats. “He — he says he doesn’t like to do it.”

Suddenly, Javi looks livid.

His fingernails dig into the meat of your inner thighs mindlessly. You watch his lip twitch and his eyes roll to the ceiling.

He’s unaffected by much these days — but Javi clearly doesn’t take kindly to a man not pleasuring his woman. Especially when you are the woman in question.

“Pendejo,” he murmurs. 

“Javi,” you whine. “Please.”

Your pleading voice seems to snap him out of it. Or at least remind him of the task at hand.

He returns his attention to your dripping pussy with one final huff. “Gonna take care of you baby, don’t worry.”

You anchor yourself with fingers of one hand twisted in the dark, sweaty curls at the crown of his head. Two digits on the other pinch at one of your hardened nipples, just as Javier begins to swipe his tongue back and forth over your clit.

“Fuck,” you sigh, draping your trembling legs over his shoulders. 

He licks your cunt like he fears you’re going to melt, lathes over your clit again and again with the wide flat of his tongue. The wet squelch of him slurping at you, eager to catch every last drop of your arousal, bounces off the walls obscenely.

You hope, fleetingly, that his neighbors are heavy sleepers. Better yet, that they’re out of town.

Maybe he’s putting in extra effort because he knows now that your boyfriend isn’t doing this for you at home. Or maybe he’s just better at it than you remember. Regardless, you find yourself completely overcome with ecstasy, close to falling apart on Javi’s tongue in a matter of minutes.

As soon as he curls two fingers into your cunt, you’re gone, cumming so hard your vision pulls and your thighs shake.

You sing Javi’s name like a hymn. It rolls off your tongue effortlessly, naturally. Like it’s made for you to recite.

He lets you come down, soothes you with gentle hands stroking along your thighs, soft lips pressed to your sensitive mound. 

When your breathing evens, he lifts off of his haunches, motions for you to lay flat on the couch with your neck supported by the armrest. And then he shucks his pants off, his cock immediately springing up to his stomach, a trail of precum dripping down his navel.

You’d forgotten how gorgeous it was — the heady, pink tip shiny with arousal, veins running along the underside of the thick base prominent. It twitches in interest as Javier leans down to kiss you, prods against your slick inner thigh when his tongue presses into yours.

You hook your legs around his back, desperately attempting to pull him closer, attempting to drag him into your achingly empty cunt.

He grins against your lips, hand moving between your bodies to guide himself to your entrance.

“Impaciente,” he mumbles.

You whine, nails digging into his shoulders. “Please Javi, need it.”

“Yeah?” He pauses with his cockhead right at your seam. “How bad?”

“Fuck — so bad, need it so bad.” Your nails burrow deeper into flesh. He hisses.

“God damn, querida; that much, huh?”

“Yes, Javi,” you groan. “Please just-”

He bottoms out in one deep thrust, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. You moan in unison, his head falling against your shoulder as he slowly begins to move. 

Your cunt sucks him in greedily, clenching around him over and over again. It’s intoxicating, the feeling of his cock nudging your g-spot with every roll of his hips. You wonder how you went so long without this. Fear you won’t be able to again.

He pulls all the way out and snaps into you before setting a new, brutal pace, one that leaves you babbling underneath him. 

The room grows palpably warmer, white heat licking at your neck, your chest, your back — where it sticks to leather. You find yourself lost in the way your bodies move together; a dance you’ve done so many times before; one you’d perfected all those months ago. 

“Shit,” Javi slurs. “Take me so well, cariño. Like you’re — ahh — made for me.”

I am, you want to say. 

“Fuck,” you moan instead, “so good, baby. Feels so fucking good.”

And it does. You’re going to snap soon, going to cum for a second time, soak his cock.

You tighten around him, a silent warning. He slips out and you whine at the loss. But then he’s hiking your legs over his shoulders, spreading you wider for him and delving back in at a new angle that makes you scream.

You can feel it building now, like a snowball in your abdomen. You can’t fight it, can barely warn Javi, his name spilling brokenly from your throat as your orgasm crests.

He talks you through it with praises whispered in your ear. So beautiful, princesa — that’s it. So pretty when you fall apart on my cock. There you go; let it all out, baby.

Fucked-out and boneless, you beg for Javi to please cum inside.

He growls, low and primal, gripping tightly to the flesh of your waist as his thrusts begin to falter. “That what you want, querida? Want to — shit — want to go back to your boyfriend with me dripping out of you?”

“Yes,” you chant thoughtlessly, yes, yes, yes. 

“Dirty. Fucking. Girl.” he grits, each word punctuated by a jerk of his hips. 

He spills inside you with his teeth in the crook of your neck. There’s so much of it, filling your cunt, leaking out around his cock and onto leather. It sates you in a way you didn’t know possible, as if your womb needs to be claimed by him and only him. Nobody else will do.

You almost resent the feeling of your eyesight returning and your breaths steadying. You don’t want to come down — not if it means you need to go home.

But the sky outside is turning purple, bruising with the threat of a new day on the horizon, and you know your time together is nearly up.

“Javi,” you mutter, his chest still heaving against yours, cock softening inside you.

“Up.”

He shifts, pulls out in a devastating loss, and retreats to the opposite side of the couch.

You begin to knead the muscles in your aching calves, Javi fumbling with the pack of cigarettes on the side table next to him. He takes one out and lights it, the end glowing faintly.

“What do we do?” you ask. He rubs at the crease in his forehead, definitely set there by years of chasing after drug cartels. Maybe also by running away from meaningful conversation with you.

“You can’t go back to him,” he mumbles.

You scoff. “I can’t? I have to Javi, Nathan is my-“

“Don’t say his name,” he snaps, abruptly ashing his cigarette and turning to face you. He looks wrecked, his eyes wide and his lips downturned. 

“What do you want from me, Javi?” you bite, pulling your panties back into place and reaching for your jeans where they lay on the floor. “You want me to be at your beck and call forever? Cheat on him until one of us dies?”

“I —“ Javi sighs. “No.”

“Then what?” You pull your pants on: one leg, then the other. Pull your shirt back down to cover your breasts. 

“I — want you.”

You nearly choke on your own saliva.

“What?”

“All of you,” he clarifies. “When I saw you with him for the first time in that grocery store — my heart sank. I didn’t — didn't realize how serious my feelings were for you. Fuck, I shouldn’t have let you end things that day.”

He stands. Braces pleading hands on your shoulders. 

“I know I’m an asshole,” he continues. “I thought I could never be someone’s partner. That I wouldn’t…wouldn’t be good. How could I be when I’ve done so much bad in my life?”

You sink into his touch. His words.

“Javi-“

“No, cariño — I need you to hear this. I want to be good for you, know I can be. I’ll do anything. I just — I can’t let you get away again.”

You feel as if you’ve just been struck by an arrow. Or, more accurately, a train. Your bones hurt and your insides twist.

You’re silent for a long moment, watching as his eyes desperately search yours. You know you need to say something eventually, put him out of his misery, but you’re too afraid to find out what happens next.

The undeniable fact that you want to be with him too is almost too much to bear. You’ll have to break it off with Nathan, split his heart in half. He doesn’t deserve it, you think, over and over.

But then, maybe you don’t deserve to remain unhappy. Unfulfilled.

Maybe you need to hurt him once in order to stop repeatedly hurting yourself.

“You’re good, Javier,” you say then. “You’re a good man. You deserve good.”

“Yeah?” his voice cracks. Tears prick in the corners of his eyes. He retracts them with a deep breath in.

You grab the sides of his face. “Yes. And I — I want you too.”

Javier kisses you, so deep you think your lips might bruise. There’s finality in it — you’re his and he’s yours — and no longer will you pretend that’s not the case.

He drives you back to your place, unwilling to let his girl get in another cab alone before daylight.

Laredo looks beautiful at dawn, all dozing buildings and empty roads. You pass by your workplace and groan at the realization that you’ll have to be back there in a few hours; you can’t call out again. A stack of unfiled reports will surely be waiting for you atop your desk.

That dread doesn’t last long, though, not when you look to the man in the driver’s seat, the one who makes your mouth water and your heart skip.

When he catches your gaze, corner of his mouth turning up at you mischievously, you know for certain that everything will work out just fine.

Javi turns onto your street slowly, moreso than he needs to, a possessive hand gripping your thigh.

“Will you let me know how it goes?” he asks when the car pulls up to the curb.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I mean, I think it’s safe to say it won’t go well, but-“

“I know. But if he gives you any more trouble than he needs to, you call me.”

Your eyes flit up to your bedroom window, blinds drawn up and curtains pulled aside. The room is still dark, Nathan no doubt still asleep.

You’ll go up in a second.  After you kiss Javier one more time.

He seems taken aback when your lips catch his, maybe because it’s crazy to do this here, now. But you can’t help it. Can’t keep your hands — or your mouth — off of him now that you have him.

He relaxes into it after just a second, licking into your mouth to deepen the kiss, his hand moving from your thigh to the back of your head to hold you against him.

And then — he abruptly pulls away.

“Shit,” he curses, staring wide-eyed at the window.

You follow his eyeline, freezing when you see what he sees: Nathan, tall and shadowy, looking straight at you.

“Well,” Javi laughs nervously, “I think he knows.”

end notes: ty so much for reading! pls consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment if you enjoyed :)

tag list: @janaispunk @kajashe @amanitacowboy @planet-marz1 @littlegrungegirlaf @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @wethairjoel @catchallfangirl @pamasaur

[loveydoveysunray]

yandere! pervert pt. 2

T/W : Stalking, profanity, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, yandere tendencies/behavior, jealousy, basic yandere behavior, etc.

nsfw for yandere! pervert, MINORS DNI

fem reader

₊˚⊹♡ Yandere! pervert who loves watching you strip in front of him. Afterwards, he'll quickly ask if he could use your thighs so he can fuck 'em. His cock will be snug right in between your thighs and he'll start thrusting like crazy, moaning and whimpering in your ear how good your thighs feel wrapping around his cock so well and thanking you for making him feel so good. He'd also do it with your tits! He just loves you and your body so much :(

Whenever he fucks your thighs he always asks if he can just slip his tip into you a little but once he does he just ends up fucking you with his arms wrapped around your waist.

₊˚⊹♡ Yandere! pervert who loves when you ride him, whether its reverse cowgirl, cowgirl, or rodeo, he loves watching your tits and ass bounce when you slam down onto his hips and his cock hits all the right places. He loves thrusting up while you slam down onto him.

₊˚⊹♡ Yandere! pervert's favorite positions are cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggystyle, sidefuck, and missionary. With missionary, he loves the feeling of your nails digging into his back and your arms wrapping around him so tight as if you never want to let go. He loves doggystyle because your muffled moans into your pillows and your ass in the air make him so turned on.

₊˚⊹♡ Yandere! pervert who loves to creampie you all the time. He definitely has a breeding kink because sometimes he just watches the mixed cum from your cunt roll down your pussy lips after he pulls out. And when it does drip out he just slams his cock back into your overstimulated pussy to keep it filled up.

He loves the imagine of your pussy twitching and cumming while his cock is still deep and shoved inside of you, filling you up to the brim with his seed. He watches the cum from you both drip out of your sore cunt and onto his thick cock, especially if y'all are fucking in the rodeo/cowgirl position.

He also likes cockwarming you afterwards! His dick is usually still hard so he'll thrust softly while the two of you enjoy the presence of the other. His soft thrusts turn into desperate ones very fast and start changing from soft to desperate, rough, and deep. There begins another round, good luck!

₊˚⊹♡ Yandere! pervert who loves when you take over and have him moaning and humping like a bitch in heat. He listens to whatever you have to order him no matter what it is.

₊˚⊹♡ Yandere! pervert who, when you aren't around to help him with his horniness, fucks in between two pillows with your panties gagged into his mouth. He can't help it! Everything about you is just so sexy he can't get enough. As he fucks in between the pillows he's always muttering your name even with the panties stuffed into his mouth.

₊˚⊹♡ Yandere! pervert who puts your pleasure before his but still cums the first simply because of how good you look on him or under him, it doesn't matter.

₊˚⊹♡ Yandere! pervert who will eat you out every single day of the week if he could. Whenever he does he uses his fingers to spread apart your wet pussy lips and sucks on your clit. With his other hand under your shirt, he'll always softly pinch your nipples to hear your cute moans and whimpers.

He loves having you look down at him and push his face further into your pussy while he looks up at you. The image of your mouth hanging open, moaning for him and him only will always be engraved in his mind whenever he's jerking off alone.

₊˚⊹♡ Yandere! pervert who'll fuck you in any position anywhere even if it's not his personal favorite. Want him to bend you over the counter and fuck into your throbbing pussy until you pass out? He's already got your back pushed up against his chest ready to fill you up to the brim with his warm, sticky cum. Want hin tied up and pathetically begging to cum while you use him for your own pleasure? He's already handcuffed to the bed silly.

₊˚⊹♡ Yandere! pervert who is the absolute best at aftercare. Need to shower? The water is already warm for you to relax yourself. He'll gladly help you wash up with the only intention of being near you more and seeing your pretty body.

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mentions of violence, mention of putting down / death, etc. words -> 2.8K

abstract -> finally we have a home...

y/n's perspective

My hands have been tied with helping San. His memories are still scrambled but better… he’s starting to remember his past, which upsets him. He still hasn’t tried to get to know Wooyoung or Yeosang. Hongjoong and Seonghwa tried not to confuse him by getting too close yet. 

However, another problem is the rivalry that Seonghwa and Yeosang found themselves in. 

“Yeosang, please just learn to get along with him?” I begged as he helped me with my hair. Today Wonyoung was forcing me out to a business party. So I had to leave… I didn’t want to but I did. And now all of my hybrids have forced me to take one of them to protect me. 

As much as I wanted to spend more time with San, he couldn’t come, and neither could Wooyoung, and Hongjoong either. My only option was Seonghwa or Yeosang. I also couldn’t leave San alone… so I chose Seonghwa. Besides, the tiger hybrid looked happy and excited. 

“Why him?” he asked, clearly annoyed and I sighed. “I need you to take care of San, please,” I asked his eyes softened, and he nodded. 

“I just want you to be okay,” he confessed and I smiled. “I will, but I'm worried about leaving you all alone,” I said and he shook his head. “I’ll take care of the overgrown cat” he confirmed and I was happy he agreed. 

“And if anything goes wrong–” “It won't stop worrying, he’s been getting better. He’s starting to remember Wooyoung. He also follows his instinct, he’ll get his memories back,” he said and I smiled. “Hey, don’t cry now. Wonyoung will get mad if you fix your makeup and make her wait even more” he said and I nodded. 

“Yeosang?” I said and he looked at me through the mirror. He was currently doing finishing touch-ups on my hair. “I love you all so much,” I said and he smiled softly. 

“I love you more than you’ll ever believe, angel,” he said and offered his hand as he led me outside my room. “That tiger better have done what I told him” Yeosang muttered and I chuckled. “Give him a break, he seems to like the life of socialites,” I said and he rolled his eyes. “What’s there to like? The alcohol, drugs, views, likes?” He listened and I smiled. 

“The glamor” I answered and he chuckled. “It's not worth it,” he said and I nodded. “But let his obliviousness enjoy it. He didn’t live through it, so let him be happy” I said and he sighed but understood. For some reason the two have stated their rivalry… but I thought it was sweet – well sometimes. 

“I’m ready!” I heard as I saw Seonghwa. He was in the suit that I got him, his hair gelled up and… oh? I didn’t notice it at first. I never got him a collar? I swear that I…

I did buy them… but I was too scared to give it to them. 

“Angel? Are you okay?” Yeosang asked and I nodded. “Can you do me a favor? There's a box under my bed, grab the black velveted one” I said and he nodded as he went to my room. 

“Is there something wrong?” Seonghwa asked and I shook my head. “When hybrids go out they need collars, it's… the rules” I said and his eyes showed disappointment. “Oh… so–” “I actually bought your collars a while ago. When… you guys ended up accepting me as your owner, I knew I needed to get you two one but I didn’t know if it would make you guys feel angry– but you don't have to wear a collar here if you don’t want to its just so they don't–” “You’re rambling” Seonghwa said softly and with a smile and I chuckled. 

“Oh” I let out and he laughed. “I always wanted a collar…” he confessed and I felt my eyes widen. I smiled, “I’m glad then,” I said and I soon saw Yeosnag again. He handed the box to Seonghwa, already knowing what it was. It was the same brand as his and San and Wooyoung. I would have to give Hongjoong’s collar soon.

The rules mandate that if they found a hybrid without a collar they’d take them to an adoption center immediately. Some areas allow non-collared hybrids just because of how expensive hybrid collars are. Luckily the hospital was one so I didn’t get Hongjoong in trouble and besides Jeno or Johnny would’ve stepped in. However, this was different… This was a socialite party. 

San’s collar was a pretty black jeweled one, whilst Wooyoung was beige, and Yeosang’s white. All of them are jeweled, all the same from the same designer. 

He opened it to reveal his… it was a silver chrome color and his smile seemed uncontrollable and it looked like he wanted a hug. I opened my arms and he lifted me up slightly by my waist. “Hey! You’re gonna wrinkle her dress and ruin her hair!” Yeosang scolded us and made us laugh. 

“How long did it take for you to get a collar?” Seonghwa asked Yeosnag and he shrugged. “I ordered one for him the day I got him officially. I knew he envied San’s and Wooyoung’s since he also held meaning for collars. Though you don’t need to have it on the entire time, you can take it off anytime at home just while we’re there you need to keep–" "You're rambling again” he said and I chuckled. 

“I wanna keep it on, but if it gets overwhelming i'll take it off” he said the same thing as San and Wooyoung. They never take it off, neither does Yeosang. However, he had a different meaning to always keep it on, sure he feels comfort on having it but the scar of his last collar showed if he didn’t keep it on. 

“Don’t get lost in your thoughts now” Yeosang said and I chuckled. 

“Yeah, we have a party to go to…” 

seonghwa’s perspective

I didn’t expect to see so many people laughing and drinking in fancy clothes and jewelry. It was nothing like that run-down and dirty circus… it was the socialites. The consumers who bought the expensive tickets to have us do special tricks for them.

Even y/n seemed like a different person here… she socialized and looked like a natural while I stood beside her clearly overwhelmed. With hybrids looking at me in pity… like I was new, and I was. They, however, looked miserable.

“I would’ve thought you’d bring Yeosang” I heard and I saw a woman dressed in a black dress with jewelry. She glared at y/n… who was she? How’d she know the Doberman?

y/n didn’t respond to her instead drank her cocktail and the woman scoffed. “You have so many pretty hybrids, making a collection are we?” she said and I felt uncomfortable. Hongjoong was right, they do look at us like objects…

“I did my research, you know. You were right about your little panther, he was an illegal hybrid ring fighter. That’s quite dangerous for someone like you, aren’t you scared he’d hurt you” she taunted, making my jaw tighten… I wanted to tell her off but for y/n’s sake I couldn't. I may not get along the best with them but for her to talk about them like that pissed me off… She knew nothing about us. 

“And where’d you find this pretty tiger?” she said and y/n scoffed while glaring at the girl. “You never give up do you?” she said and she giggled. “I can say the same thing about you, and how you took Sangie away from me” she pouted… Sangie? Was she talking about Yeosang? 

“You’re lucky I didn’t get you in jail” y/n said and she giggled while glaring. “Well lovely journalist, we did negotiate. You can have the doberman, I don’t care. In fact I'm thinking of adopting another hybrid” she pondered and I didn’t want to make my stance known. 

I was a hybrid… I was y/n’s accessory tonight. I couldn’t cause any trouble. 

“Ooh, by the way that lawyer of yours was cute! Hendery–” y/n son grabbed my wrist and dragged me away. I could hear her laughing from behind me as I was dragged off. 

She looked annoyed and… hurt? “I understand why Yeosang wanted to join you now,” I said and she shook her head. “Sorry, is your wrist–” “I'm okay. It didn’t hurt, are you okay?” I asked and she smiled a tired smile. 

“Please don’t tell Yeosang about her” she pleaded and I was confused. “She’s his old owner right? The one who… sold him?” I asked and she nodded. 

“Never mention her in front of him,” she warned and I nodded. She didn’t seem like it… but she was a witch in disguise. “This is annoying isn’t it?” she said and she laughed it off but before I could respond. 

“Don’t tell me you were going to run off without saying hello now?” I heard and I saw a man. “Jungwoo!” she said as she hugged him. He looked like a model from Yeosang’s weekly magazines. 

“It’s been a while. I also heard you’ve been busy this year” Jungwoo said and she chuckled… 

“Getting three aggressive hybrids, a popular mistreated hybrid, and Wooyoung. Not to mention created a mortal enemy, been undercover twice, and started a book?” he said and I felt my ears flatten a bit. All of the hybrids have decided to stray away from the topic of writing… she was clearly upset with her draft being ripped by Hongjoong…

“Ah yeah…” she said sadly and his eyebrows furrowed now looking worried. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked and she nodded. “I need to rewrite a whole new book, Jungwoo,” she pouted and he sighed. “If anyone can do it, it's you. You’re the best writer I know” he said and she smiled. “I’m the only writer you know” I said and he laughed it off and shrugged. He soon looked at me curiously… What did he want?

“Are you not gonna introduce me to you hybrid?” he asked and I straightened my posture now that the attention was on me… “Ah! This is Seonghwa, he was a part of the Kim Family Circus. Seonghwa, this is Jungwoo, an old friend.” she said in which he offered his hand, and shook each other's hands. “Are you gonna leave so soon?” he asked and I looked at her as she smiled softly at the man and nodded. “As long as you want to go to Seonghwa?” she asked and I smiled. 

I was here because I wanted to… I regret it already but I need to protect her.

By the end of the party, y/n chatted with many people besides the model. She really was a socialite… a completely different person than the hermit writer from the apartment.

“Let's go home, Seonghwa,” she said with a drunk smile. I hated this party. Everyone kept staring at her… men looking her up and down hybrid owners looking at me as if I’d join their collection… hybrids looking at me with pity.

“Seonghwa?” she said and I looked at her waiting for her to continue speaking. Instead, she smiled and hugged me. I could tell she was a little drunk a few cocktails ago but she was fine, and I was by her side protecting her. 

I took off my trench coat and put it around her. I also started carrying on my back on our way back home… home. I smiled thinking about it. I finally had a place like that. 

“I never want any of you to hate me,” she muttered and I froze for a minute… What was she saying?

“Hongjoong… he scares me sometimes, but he’s trying to be around humans for the first time. You keep on treating me like fragile glass… like I’ll explode and throw you out” she said and I sighed… maybe she was right.

“You keep competing for my attention… Yeosang is the same way. I don’t want you guys to fight each other… get along please?” she begged as she gripped my shoulders hugging me tight as I walked… Her words made me feel guilty. 

“I won’t get rid of you… you’re not trash,” she said and I felt tears from my eyes…

“I’m rewriting my book, you know?” she said and I wasn’t shocked at it. Wooyoung said that she might start writing soon with how much she’s been daydreaming. “You and Hongjoong are in it,” she said and I was shocked she’d put us in the book. “Seonghwa?” she said as I stopped to look over my shoulder at her, she smiled prettily at me with her eyes filled with wonder and life almost like stars. 

“You’re more valuable to me than anything I own… the others are just as important. None of you are a collection, you’re my family” she said and I smiled softly at her soft features. 

“Just promise to never leave me,” she said as she started closing her eyes tiredly. 

“I’d never think of it, princess” 

“Why are you two home so late?!” Yeosang yelled only to be smacked by Wooyoung once they saw her on my back their eyes widened. “Is she okay?” Wooyoung asked and I nodded. 

I noticed San behind the two looking at her just as worried… he’ll be back to normal soon. I'll make sure he does... while even Hongjoong was looking from afar, also worried. I sighed before I decided to speak up. 

“Let’s not fight, '' I said and the three hybrids before me and Hongjoong looked at me confused. “She doesn’t like us fighting… we’re a family to her. The least we can do is try to be one” I said and they all nodded. “Yeosang?” I said and he looked at me with an expression I couldn’t understand. 

“I don’t want to fight you anymore. I owe y/n a lot… but I won’t fight you for stupid nonsense anymore” I said and he nodded. “I won’t either… I guess I should try to respect you a bit more. You are very old.” he said and I scoffed. He doesn’t change… I kinda prefer it this way. Our useless teasing…

“You’re right… you’ve been with us for almost a month now. For y/n we should try to get along” Wooyoung said and San stayed silent next to him as we now looked at the tiny tiger. “I agree… we all owe in our different ways. We all want to protect her, and we will for others. It’s useless arguing with each other” Hongjoong said and I agreed. 

“Put her to bed. We should all go to sleep soon now that she’s back” Hongjoong said and everyone listened. I went to her room where I softly put her down… I suddenly hear the door open to see Yeosang. “I’ll undress her,” he said and I agreed.

“What’d she say to make you say that, by the way?” he asked and I smiled. “We’re her family, she said we were her most valuable treasure” I said and his eyes widened. “Her friends said she was lonely… until she adopted San and then it's been busier than ever.” he confessed as he took off her heels while she succumbed to her soft mattress and fluffy pillows. 

“We’re too alike… I come from a world where I was drowning in expensive and luxurious lifestyles… but none of it was worth it until meeting her. You tigers are the same way.” he said and I chuckled. 

“I wished for an owner to pamper me… I saw so many hybrids in shows, lots of them younger ones with their owners. They looked at me like they didn’t know what abuse was. I envied them…” I confessed and the doberman sighed.

“y/n gives us everything… Sometimes I think she’ll get rid of me.” I said and the Doberman sighed. “She wouldn’t ever… I thought the same way. She, however, would never, if she were to get another hybrid I’d feel threatened but I knew she wouldn’t ever replace nor abandon me” he confessed and I nodded. 

“Go so I can put her in something comfortable,” Yeosang said and I nodded. 

“Now get out” he said and I laughed as I walked out to my room I shared with Hongjoong with a smile and for once genuinely of pure happiness…

“You look like a maniac” I heard as I saw Hongjoong… my longest and only companion for a while. I hugged him who hugged me back questioningly… “Are you okay?” he asked and I felt my tail wag uncontrollably.

“We have a family Hongjoong… somewhere we belong” 

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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[sweet-as-an-angel]

I read your yandere dilf post just before going to sleep and had a very interesting dream as a result: yandere Wild West Outlaw!

He takes you hostage to keep the rangers from going after him after a robbery. You’re tied up in front of him on his horse and after riding away from town for a long time he doesn’t set you down somewhere like you expected but takes you with him into his hideout.

Bonus: he‘s (basically) masked > bandana covering half his face and the rim of his hat casting a shadow over his eyes

Yandere Wild West Outlaw! Headcanons

Warnings: Implications of Smut, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Touching, Forced Proximity, Slow Burn, Stockholm Syndrome, Masked Outlaw ;), Petnames, Killing, Mentions of Robbery, Non-Consensual Voyeurism/Surveillance, Description of Injury & Blood, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’, etc.

A/N: Anon, I am in love with this concept !

♡ Yandere Outlaw whose body encompasses yours, his chest to your back and his arms caging you as he grips the horse’s reigns, his breathing steady as if he hadn’t just committed a multitude of crimes. Then again, considering how proficient he was at wiping the inn clean of all its savings and tying you up on his horse before the rangers could even arrive, you suspected this was not the first time he’d done this. Nor would it be the last.

♡ Yandere Outlaw says very little after he abducted you, his last words being sharp commands, laden with a calmness you would never have expected from a man holding an entire building hostage.

♡ And, in your terror, you said nothing to him, your back to his front as he rode to nowhere discernible, the civilised, populated terrain of your home town having melted away hours ago.

♡ No, the Outlaw gave nothing away. Even after days of being forced to travel with him to what you could only pray would be a town – somewhere for him to dispose of you before taking to the canyons again – he said nothing.

♡ He’d offer you food, and, after the first 24 hours of starving yourself out of sheer distrust – or principle, as you wanted to see it – you succumbed to your famine.

♡ Yandere Outlaw would feed it to you before disappearing behind whatever cover lay nearby – oftentimes his horse – and eat.

♡ Whatever lay beneath his bandana was a mystery to you. And it only took you trying to see what he looked like once to see that your endeavour was a hopeless one.

♡ You’d strained and leaned past the point of no return, falling onto your side.

♡ And Outlaw came back into view, adjusting his bandana back over his nose, the shadow cast over his eyes by his hat much like that descending over the valley you now inhabited.

♡ Your heart stammered as he grew closer, the spurs of his boots the land equivalent to the fin of a shark as Outlaw came to a stop before you.

♡ He got to one knee, so quietly that you could see why nobody ever saw him coming, and, brushing a lock of hair from your face with a gloved hand, chuckled.

♡ Low and rumbling, like an earthquake. Or one of God’s many natural disasters. A gruff, brief thing as ephemeral as life itself. 

♡ “Don’t get yourself all scuffed up now, Darlin’,” he says. His hand trails from just behind your ear, tracing your jaw, the tendons in your neck, stopping just short of where your shirt hangs above your collar bones.

♡ You think that you hear him hiss. So sibilant and soft you’re unsure whether you perhaps imagined it and rather heard the conversation of pit vipers laying just below the hard sand beneath your ear.

♡ Outlaw’s head tilts, his face no clearer to you now as it was days ago, especially now with the setting sun casting a misplaced halo about his hat-clad head, his front shadowed. Two sides, one a light facade, the other his true nature.

♡ “You’re no good to me broken.”

♡ Yandere Outlaw whose only elaboration of that cryptic sentiment comes in the form of another day’s travel, during which you remained firmly bound – and gagged at one juncture when you made the mistake of crying for help when you spotted a lone merchant out on the open road.

♡ Yandere Outlaw neutralised that channel of freedom for you very quickly with a crack of a bullet, leaving you glassy-eyed and breathless as he ransacked the merchant’s travel cabin, taking all manner of valuables.

♡ “Why, thank you, Darlin’,” he says, his gloved hand coming to rest on your knee, clapping down on you and making you jump – shriek. And he squeezes with all the familiarity of someone who’s done this before.

♡ “Wouldn’t’a found this here haul if you hadn’t tried to scream your pretty little head off.”

♡ Yandere outlaw knows that’s isn’t quite true; he’s an excellent tracker, and an even better marksman. He’d have found this travelling man on his own eventually; the outcome would have been identical. But you didn’t need to know that.

♡ The gag was practically useless after that, for your desire to keep others from the same fate as the travelling salesman had you quiet as a mouse.

♡ Yandere Outlaw can sense how rigid you are – less so than you were when he’d first taken you, but you still felt…different. You were loose in the way that submission often made people slaves to fatigue, to their fate. And he couldn’t help but wonder if you’d succumbed to yours so soon, especially when, as you finally drifted off to sleep after a day and a half without it, you leaned into his chest, head to his shoulder.

♡ Unwillingly, of course. Your exhaustion weighed you down, lead. You had no control over your unconscious body, regardless of how repulsive you found the pillow you were leaning on.

♡ Yandere Outlaw can’t help but let his gaze drift from the open canyon ahead, gradually giving way to caves and rocky rivers, to your face. You were tranquil in sleep, brew no longer knotted in worry, or fear. Just…sleep.

♡ Yandere Outlaw could feel his hands twitching, the urge to touch you creeping up behind him the longer he stared at your vulnerable form.

♡ Yandere outlaw who, for a second, and a second only, let his hand slip from the reigns and slither, slowly, to your knee, up the expanse of your clothed thigh.

♡ Yandere Outlaw’s heart who, for the first time in a long time, beats at a humming bird’s pace when you shift in your slumber, making him withdraw.

♡ Yandere Outlaw who, watching, waiting for you to settle back into sleep, kept his hands from you the rest of the night. Though temptation beckons him to do otherwise.

♡ Yandere Outlaw shifted behind you, waking you. Only when you were torn from a dream of being anywhere but here did you realise the horse had come to a stop, an unfamiliar breeze settling over you.

♡ Yandere Outlaw who, unsaddling you from the horse, carries you like a bride in his arms, kicking open the door to an abode you didn’t even know was there.

♡ Yandere Outlaw sets you down beside a pole, tying you to it. Tightly.

♡ “Welcome home, Dollface,” he says, hands settling on his belt as he watches your eyes jump from one corner to another, taking in these new surroundings, these new circumstances.

♡ Of course, you don’t accept the conditions Outlaw has roped you into. Not without a fight.

♡ Yandere Outlaw, as a result, had to keep his eye on you when you initially began your residence with him. 

♡ For the first couple of weeks, he’d take you to the waterfall to bathe every other day; would watch you as you did so. At first, bashful and uncomfortable, you’d asked him to turn around as you stood exposed. To which the Outlaw just laughed. “Ain’t much worth lookin’ at,” he’d reassured you.

♡ Yandere outlaw who tells you exactly how the day’s going to go.

♡ “You’re gonna cook whatever I bring back. Y’understand ?”

♡ Yandere Outlaw who initially only lets you chop up vegetables and bread, withholding the excuse to use a sharp knife from you by intentionally not collecting any meat.

♡ Yandere Outlaw who, before taking even a bite of the meal you prepare, makes you taste it first. “I know you little crafty types; poison enough in your veins to kill a horse.”

♡ Translation: “You’re having this first to make sure it’s not going to kill me.”

♡  Yandere Outlaw who, after that initial hurdle, though he won’t admit it, feels his tongue practically bursting with flavour when he tastes your soup for the first time. Though, he keeps it under wraps, his form hidden behind a wall, his bandana pulled down.

♡ Yandere Outlaw who, with little alternative to offer you, makes you sleep in his bed.

♡ “Either that, or you’re sleepin’ outside.”

♡ He still wears the bandana btw, and wears a sleep mask over his eyes.

♡ He doesn’t touch you. Not in intentional ways, it would seem.

♡ Not at first.

♡ A light brush of the hand here and there. 

♡ Sure, the urge to bask in the aura of the most beautiful person he’s ever seen is pretty overwhelming for the Outlaw. Especially since he doesn’t understand why he feels this way, never having felt it for anyone else before.

♡ Sure, he’s taken others, some much more enthusiastic than others (you don’t get to his level of notoriety without attracting a few hundred fans).

♡ So, when you’re asleep, an arm and a leg bound to the bedpost, he watches you.

♡ He tells himself it’s for his own safety, to make sure you’re not going to reach for a weapon and gut him like a pig.

♡ But when he sees your gentle face, he knows you’re incapable of that

♡ He likes to think that you’re incapable of anything without him around. Makes him feel bigger, stronger.

♡ So why exactly was he still looking upon you into the late hours of the night ?

♡ Over time, his resolve begins to crack.

♡ Especially with every aspect of your partnership accounted for.

♡ The baths, the bed sharing, the homemade cooking – it’s just all so…

♡ Domestic.

♡ But, that doesn’t make Outlaw trust you any more than the day he first took you. Not yet, at least.

♡ Despite his confidence in his own ability to keep you here, he knows the indomitable human spirit is strong enough to break through every precaution. And, just in case you do manage to escape, he’s making sure you can’t pick him out of a lineup if you make it to law enforcement – if the vultures don’t pick you off first.

♡ Yandere Outlaw makes you cook every night, under the guise of you “Needin’ your strength to straighten this place out.”

♡ Yandere Outlaw who appoints you as his head housekeeper, making it your sole responsibility to be the “homemaker” of the two of you.

♡ Yandere Outlaw who feels strange when he sees you with one of his shirts tied about your waist – a makeshift apron – who doesn’t even recognise this feeling as domesticity. Warmth. That feeling of security having been deprived of him all his life.

♡ Yandere Outlaw who wonders what you’d look like wearing one of his shirts.

♡ And something in his brain chemistry changes.

♡ Yandere Outlaw who, during your river baths, knocks your clothes into the stream when you’re not looking, offering you his shirt when you’re ready to come out.

♡ “Y’really should be careful,” he tells you, swallowing thickly as the neckline of his shirt dips below your collarbones, drowning you. He looks away, not trusting that the feeling coiling in his lower half won’t spring out at any moment. “Men might take advantage of a pretty lil’ thing like you. Especially when you’re so…” A shiver shoots up his spine. “Vulnerable.”

♡ Your clothes seem to disappear not long after that, leaving you only with whatever consisted of the Outlaw’s wardrobe.

♡ You notice that he seems to disappear at odd hours of the day, leaving you to your chores while he does something.

♡ Little do you know that the something he is doing is a secret he’ll take to his grave.

♡ The sight of you in his shirts, of you in the river, is too much for him.

♡ He takes to hiding out in a densely vegetated patch of land behind the cabin to…relieve himself of his thoughts of you. Thoughts he’s used to sustaining for perhaps a second or two when it came to his prior conquests. Thoughts that, now, a month into your capture, extend long into his nights and speckle his logic when he’s on a mission.

♡ It’s dangerous, he knows; to have his mind elsewhere while he risks his life for the loot he so desires. But he can’t deny that they make him feel human. Normal.

♡ Despite how un-normal this entire situation is.

♡ It takes every ounce of his restraint not to just tie you down and take you while you sleep beside him, make you scream and cry for him as he empties his frustration and, dare he say, lust, into you.

♡ But, he doesn’t want to scare you off.

♡ Doesn’t want to see your eyes light up in fear whenever he enters the room.

♡ He wants something else.

♡ Something that he doesn’t have a word for.

♡ It’s only when he happens across a conversation with you, asking you if you had “A lover boy back home,” that he found the word he was looking for.

♡ You wince at the question, the memory of your life away from this situation salt in an unhealed wound.

♡ “No,” you tell him, your honesty a virtue. “Haven’t been in a relationship yet.”

♡ Relationship.

♡ It felt right to the Outlaw when he heard it; especially coming from you.

♡ It sticks with him the rest of the day, and while you’re cooking dinner, washing the Outlaw’s clothes, dusting the sparse furniture, he’s got one thing on his mind.

♡ How to get you into a relationship with him.

♡ He’s completely unequipped to deal with someone on such an intimate level, so he uses all his knowledge he’s gathered while seducing and bedding others to piece together a game plan.

♡ First, he needs to know what you like. He remembers from that one time a woman hit him with her shoe when he forgot her name ten minutes after meeting her.

♡ So, he starts hanging around you (much) more often, making you sit down and tell him about yourself.

♡ As he makes you spend time in his company, he comes to learn of the fanciful little things you enjoy.

♡ At first, the details are dry and few and far between, with you giving very little about yourself away.

♡ But, as his persistence drags into days, you eventually just start telling him whatever he asks, so long as it’s not too personal.

♡ Or painful.

♡ Whenever the outlaw can see you're starting to become upset, being reminded of your circumstances, he eases up on the personal questions and just asks superficial ones.

♡ “How’re ya feeling today ?” “D’ya eat well this mornin’ ?” “D’ya need me to dust a shelf down or something’ ?”

♡ His miniscule acts of selflessness are extensions of his effort to make you at least not hate him. Though you didn’t know this. His thought process was still an enigma to you.

♡ He also stalks you in his own home.

♡ Listens to you sing while you complete your tasks, your voice the softest thing he’s heard since…well, ever.

♡ Yandere Outlaw who, when he embarks on a hunt, never tells you where or when, and never even the how.

♡ The only clue you’ll ever be given as to his nigh-weekly excursions are trinkets he brings with him. Ones which you thought he’d pawn elsewhere in the county at a later date, or bury in the canyon somewhere.

♡ Until he offers them to you.

♡ At first, you’re not sure what to make of these…gifts ?

The first time he gave you one, he said nothing, only watching you.

♡ You swore you could see his shoulders heaving beneath his jacket, something almost feral in his demeanour. Pressurising.

♡ And, with the possibility of what could happen to you should you decline these acts of…generosity…You just take them, uttering a quiet “Thank you,” before putting them in a kitchen cabinet, unsure of the intent behind them.

♡ The first few times this happened, you were befuddled.

♡ Yet, with how gently the Outlaw placed them in your hands, with how intense his gaze was, even though you couldn’t see it beneath the permanent shadow across his brow, you could feel it.

♡ It was only one evening when the Outlaw returned with yet more loot that the meaning behind the trinkets became apparent.

♡ His hand disappears into the inside pocket of his jacket, and he withdraws a small box; rounded and bejewelled like an idol. He comes to stand before you, and, shoulders pinned abc and rigid, you swallow. Thickly.

♡ He looks down at the box, and,his finger dragging along the edge, slowly, he relinquishes it to you.

♡ And, by pure force of habit, you accept.

♡ You turn the box gingerly between your fingers, the dim candlelight from within the cabin just barely warding off the black of the night, setting the precious stones welded within the metal alight.

♡ “Well,” the Outlaw says, making you jump. You look up at him, eyes wide.

♡ “Open it.”

♡ He says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

♡ Swallowing again, your gaze skitters back to the box.

♡ And, with bated breath, you lift the lid.

♡ A delicate, silver melody slithers from the portal you’ve opened, a serpentine tune wrapping around your mind, vivid, beloved memories riding on its feathered wings.

♡ Your favourite song.

♡ For a moment, one sweet, fragile moment, you’re not here.

♡ You’re back at home, in a warm bed that is yours and yours alone, surrounded by the people who matter most to you, any celebration mankind can conjure not even a whisper of the joy you feel in this scene.

♡ And then, as the wind blows autumn leaves from the human mind, the memory is gone, taken away by reality realising it has neglected you.

♡ You’re looking into nothing now, the apparition of your past slipping from you, your eyes wavered and muffled with…

♡ Tears.

♡ In your periphery, just outside the realm of reality you’re returning to, the Outlaw’s drilling gaze drops from you to the floor ina  rare show of anticipation. A hand comes to the back of his neck, where he squeezes the skin. A stress ball.

♡ “Do you…” he begins, “Do ya like it ?”

♡ Your stare inches from the void up to the outlaw’s hidden face.

♡ Perhaps if he had a discernible human feature, you could sense anticipation there. But as it stood, this was no man, but a phantom.

♡ One which must have heard and remembered that tune you often sang while completing chores.

♡ You couldn’t take it.

♡ To have him acknowledge the memory – to make it more real – nailed your coffin shut.

♡ And you broke down.

♡ When you crumpled into a pile, the Outlaw took a step back, one hand reaching for his holster; a knee-jerk reaction.

♡ And what little solace he could offer came in a most inconspicuous display.

♡ The Outlaw got to one knee, now at your level.

♡ And, with a careful hand, he placed a gloved finger upon your shoulder. Then another. Then another.

♡ Spidery and unfamiliar, foreign, the Outlaw’s actions were jerky, janky, an unoiled machine. But he was trying.

♡ When his hand lay against the curve of your shoulder, you did not move. Did not shunt him off or scream at him to let go.

♡ You remained where you were, weeping into your shirt apron.

♡ And the Outlaw, with a fiery grip encircling his heart, feeling brewing in his centre, stronger than all those implicatures and desires. This was solid, unlike the quicksand foundations upon which the Outlaw’s every emotion was built upon.

♡ Was this…

♡ Empathy ?

♡ His grip on your shoulder tightened, the revelation swarming through him like locusts.

♡ He swallowed. Tried thinking through the orchestra in his mind.

♡ “S’okay,” he said. To you, and to himself. His fingers moved gently, your skin and muscle warm through the leather of his gloves. “You’re okay.”

♡ Things changed after that.

♡ He no longer forced you to sleep in the same bed as him, instead bringing back with him a fine silk cover from one of his trips, gifting it to you.

♡ Yet, you still chose to sleep in the same bed as him.

♡ “It’ll be getting cold soon,” you said. “WIth winter coming, and all.”

♡ And, while this new feeling, raw and fresh, was…nice compared to the emptiness that often lingered in his chest, the Outlaw couldn’t help but feel weakened by this influx of emotion.

♡ When he tried to have his alone time with his thoughts of you, he felt…wrong.

♡ Ashamed.

–

♡ You were used to him disappearing for days at a time. Hell, you'd come to expect it at this point in your captivity.

♡ But something about tonight felt...off.

♡ Not that you'd ever admit it, even to yourself, but with the amount of time you'd spent together these last few months, you no longer hated being in his company.

♡ In fact, on the days he would be gone from the early hours of the morn to the late hours of the evening, you could even say you...missed it.

♡ And, unfortunately, despite your every instinct swaying you otherwise, you find that to be the case now.

♡ But, more than that, you're concerned. Something you'd never thought you'd feel for a murderer, a thief. Your kidnapper.

♡ And your pacing, your lip-chewing, your nail-biting are all proven justified when the Outlaw slams against the front door, stumbling through.

♡ At first, you just watch, ready to yell, to ask where he's been the last few days, until you see it.

♡ A bloodied handprint on the door.

♡ He staggers in, swaying on uneven footing, his breathing stifled,as if through a thin straw. He wheezes, collapsing into the doorframe beside him.

♡ And you rush to him. As if he wasn't the one who put you here to begin with. As if whatever's bringing him to his knees now wasn't justified, provoked.

♡ But you don't think of any of that, your mind filled only with the fact that nobody knows you're out here. Without guidance, you'd be dead before you reached the edge of the canyon encompassing your hiding place.

♡ You needed him alive.

♡ After wrestling him onto his bed, almost buckling beneath his weight, you found the source of his downfall.

♡ A wound; bullet-bitten and bleeding, a rouge flower burgeoning with the promise of extinction.

♡ You tried getting him to talk, to tell you what to do. But his voice was barely a whisper, instead using what little seeping strength that remained to point to a cabinet.

♡ Inside, you found what you knew would be needed to heal him. Whether it – you – could save him, though, was another story.

♡ You tried taking his bandana off to see if he was hurt elsewhere, but to no avail. Despite the life draining from his body, he somehow found it in himself to stop you, to place a gloved, trembling hand atop yours, an imploring aura to the gesture.

♡ Don't.

♡ And, for the first time, beneath the dim light of the cabin, you could see something human on him.

♡ It existed only in the form of a shimmer beneath the shadow of his hat, his face still very much obscured, yet the emotions on it were not.

♡ You recognised this emotion, for you'd worn it yourself, both inwardly and out, for the last three months.

♡ Fear.

♡ In its purest and most carnal form.

♡ And a voice, strained with either agony or disuse.

♡ “Help me.”

♡ Throughout the night, you tended to Outlaw's wound. A maw-like, gaping thing it was, spouting blood as one would bucket water out of a sinking boat.

♡ Luckily, you didn't have to worry about shrapnel; the bullet went clean through outlaw's side, leeaving only the aftermath and not the instigator. You managed to stop the bleeding, use the stitching on Outlaw's shirt (which was basically yours now) to sew the wound closed.

♡ For the first time, Outlaw was uncharacteristically human.

♡ Sure, you'd seen the scars on his back when he bathed, the many brushes with death he'd encountered, some advancing into a dance, much like this night's escapade had been.

♡ But you knew, somewhere, somehow, that without another pair of hands here, Outlaw likely wouldn't have pulled through.

♡ Not this time.

♡ And now, here you sat, at Outlaw's beck and call, his bedside your new home.

♡ You watched over him, the cabin silent, the night just as quiet. Even the crickets seemed to chirp quieter, either out of fear or respect for the almost dearly departed.

♡ And, looking up from the massacre on the bed, your gaze swept the room. And you realise something.

♡ The front door, which neither you, nor Outlaw locked, is unguarded.

♡ Yandere outlaw is riddled with sleep, his agony having stripped him of his energy and his strength.

♡ So...why hadn't you tried to escape yet ?

♡ Looking over at Outlaw, sound asleep, you realised just how easy it would be to walk out that door.

♡ Sure, you might get lost. Might die of hypothermia during the freezing hours of a dessert night, but with enough layers, food and water, you saw no reason as to why you couldn't just leave right now.

♡ After all, it wasn't like you'd be killing Outlaw if you left. Sure he might die of infection, or blood loss if his stitches come undone. But you'd at least tried to help him. So your conscience wasn't going to be the issue.

♡ So what was stopping you ?

♡ Looking back at the Outlaw, you felt strange.

♡ The urge to protect him, to care for him, outweighed even your greatest notion of escape, which explained why the thought to do so hadn't hit you until just now.

♡ You bit your lip, looking between Outlaw and the door.

♡ Both options were tantilisingly easy to pursue, and yet only one would be available to you, the other perishing if you ignored it.

♡ Maybe hours passed. Maybe it was mere minutes.

♡ But watching the Outlaw sleep, at his most vulnerable, with his pleading “Help me,” rattling around in your mind, the choice already seemed to be made for you. You just didn't want to tell yourself exactly why. 

♡ So...you stayed.

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