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majorlysapphic · 3 months ago

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It's brain splurge time once again...! What am I presenting today you may ask?

A glassheart, modern-day celebrity/performer AU!

TW: self-destructive habits.

(This AU is a continuation of my previous big brain splurge post, so I'll be making small references to it at the start, but I'll try my best to write this post in a way so it can be read as a standalone :)) )

Okay, here we go!

So I imagine that Red would have LOVED performing from the earliest moments of her life. Music, dance, acting, modelling; it flows through her veins and has always been her calling. And who can even be shocked by that fact? She's the only child of two of Auradon's most iconic stars in the 80s: her mother being 'The Queen of Hearts', a pop princess with a golden public imagine, and her father being the heart-throb bassist of a punk band ('Uliana's Crew'), James Hook.

It's only natural that the daughter of these two would follow in their footsteps, especially knowing her mother runs one of the most successful music labels in Auradon: 'Wonderland Records'. However, every time Red mentions she wants to start performing, she's told no (and on occasion actively discouraged from following her parents career path). Because 'she needs to prioritise growing up away from flashing cameras' and because 'the life of a performer can be demanding, it's best she focuses on school'. Frustrated, Red does end up getting a normal childhood (barring the pretty strict rules she's living under as even though she hasn't made a name for herself, yet, paparazzi still like to have a field day following her life because of who her parents are), and she's (im)patiently waiting for the day she turns 18 to finally start her career as a performer.

But we all know what Red is like, and when she thinks of an opportunity to get what she wants, she's going to take it. So, she starts anonymously posting her music on social media at the age of 14 under the username 'rebel riot', and she goes viral. People love what she's got, and Red is soaring, because this is proof enough that she can make it. So for the next 4 years, she carries on growing her platform, posting videos (whilst hiding her face with an iconic heart mask and talking with a slightly morphed accent/pitch) and interacting with her growing fanbase. Throughout this entire time, she has always had to reject invitations to perform, but on her 18th birthday she can finally take control. So when she's emailed an invite for 'Rebel Riot' to perform at a charity event, she takes it.

And that's how her official, big debut goes. She's the last to perform from all the artists at the charity concert (which include her own parents, who on occasion take a step out of retirement to perform for charitable causes), and after giving her performance her all, she takes a deep breath: flipping down the hood of her outfit and letting her hair fall down, talking in her normal voice (trying not to note down the shocked looks of Bridget and Hook as they realise who she is) as she properly introduces herself as Red Hearts, whilst theatrically throwing off her mask.

The crowd goes wild. And Red is signed up to a music label that same night, choosing to carry on performing under her stage name.

Now... Onto Chloe's path to stardom!

Chloe grew up not wanting to be in the spot light (to the relief of her mother, a popular 80s riot grrrl, 'Cinderella'). Instead, she dabbled in multiple interests, and whilst she did have fun in her music lessons, she ended up figuring out how much she loved academics. So, she grew up happy and safely tucked away in a countryside estate (meaning she is quite sheltered, but that's something Ella and Charming were willing to deal with so long as she got a normal childhood). Chloe eventually figured out she wanted to become a historian, and started her journey towards that goal - but things didn't quite go to plan. Because the world of academics can be tiring and toxic at times, so once graduating with her diploma at 21, she takes a year out before thinking of applying to masters programs. To deal with her burnout she starts making music.

And she loves it. There's a spark there that wasn't present in childhood, and soon enough Chloe's writing songs and strumming on her guitar. But it's only a small passion so far, so she enters her masters program still set on becoming an academic, but to keep her spirits high she starts posting song covers and some original works on social media.

The next thing she knows she's got a loyal following and finding that maybe, music is something she wants to take more seriously. So she starts playing at a few small indie festivals, and she loves it. So in spite of her parents worried protests, Chloe drops out of her masters program and signs up to a music label, and she finds a gradually growing success over the next few years.

Now, a key plot point: Chloe and Red are signed up to the same music label ('Atlantis City Music Group' - ACMG for short).

There's excitement surrounding the artists ACMG keep signing on, and whilst there's success with touring each of the artists separately, the label decides they want to do something big to appreciate all their stars. So, they announce a world tour with all their singers/bands participating: going from place to place over 3 months of summer in order to host music festivals.

This is how Chloe and Red will meet... And the meeting doesn't go well.

They've been assigned to share a stage for most of the up and coming festivals, and as ACMG is funding it all, they're in the same accomodation/transport/rehearsal spaces/dining areas/etc.

They're still in the starting leg of the tour, and so as stages and stands are being set up in the opening festival of the tour, Chloe and Red are at their shared stage. Chloe's heading on stage for her rehearsal time, and Red is going off. And it's an understatement to say Red is in a bad mood that day; she's dealing with a few overeager fans/borderline stalkers (which she refuses to tell anyone about because she doesn't want people fussing over her, especially her mother) and her trusted friend and backup musician (Maddox) has his flight delayed, meaning she'll start her first performance of the tour solo.

So when Chloe tries to greet her, she's brushed off passive-aggressively. And, ouch. That stings, because Chloe is a fan of Red's work - and has been following Rebel Riot since her early stages of being an anonymous singer online. But whilst it stings, they're both 23 years old and shouldn't be immature enough to hold petty grudges. Chloe can handle this (she's going to be thinking about that one interaction at 2am for at least a month), and decides to just keep pushing forward. First impressions can be deceiving after all.

But as time passes, travelling occurs, and performances go on. And Chloe gets a second impression of Red. And a third. And a fourth. And a fifth.

She doesn't need to wait to give a sixth chance to know she absolutely despises Red. Because Red is loud, impulsive, ignorant of others time, sarcastic, quick to frustrate, and a flirt.

And Chloe knows for a fact that Red doesn't like her one bit either.

In Red's point of view, Chloe is up tight, has an annoying need to placate others, sugar coats things way too much, and is a plain bore.

Because here Red is, forcing herself to stick to the trademark personality of Rebel Riot for the entire summer, whilst Chloe is getting huffy about when Red decides to extend her performance/rehearsal times by just a little bit so she can be perfect for her fans. She's here to sell a performance (something that will leave viewers reeling. Red's been one of the best in the game for years and she'd soon rather drive into a ditch than have the quality of her work decline) and live life to the wildest, and Red will be damned if she'll let some random girls judgement get in her way.

So, they carry on travelling and performing at festivals. They give off snippy remarks to each other, and try to one up each other in performance quality. Red will roll her eyes when Chloe comments about being tired at the end of the day (they all are, it's what they signed up for.), and Chloe will scoff whenever she hears about another person Red's left lovesick and 'heart broken'.

People stay clear of the bickering between the two. Because they have better things to do with their life. And also because there's a growing tension that everyone can feel building up (though Red and Chloe remain ignorant to it) and they don't want to be caught in the cross-fire.

...Then eventually, the worst happens: Red and Chloe are alone together.

It's a small, private jet with just the two of them as they travel to the European leg of the summer tour. There's stony silence. There's poorly hidden glances. There's teasing once said glances are called out. Then there's arguing.

They're in each others face, and it's like electricity is running through their veins with each spiteful word tumbling out. Red can feel Chloe's breath tickle her cheek with how close they are. Chloe's eyes are darting down to Red's lips (a habit she picked up weeks ago). And next thing you know both are silently praying that the flight deck is sound-proofed as they meet in the middle for a bruising kiss.

Once the flight lands, they're both just about presentable for cameras, murmuring excuses to go their separate ways as soon as possible.

They were a one time thing, a moment of weakness. They'll be able to go the next 2 months being perfectly professional. They don't care about what the other does. They don't think about each other at all.

All of the above doesn't hold true. Not in the slightest.

Soon enough, Chloe and Red find out the best way to maintain peace in their workplace and stop being a headache is to just carry on leaving each other breathless - It's a burning summer fling. Something superficial. Where Chloe has to painstakingly shrug on a denim jacket in the July heat to cover the scratch marks Red left behind on her back. Where Red has to aggressively rub away Chloe's tinted gloss off of her stomach before running onto stage. Where they both pull each other into hidden corners/rooms after getting jealous way too easily.

It's casual fun with a time limit.

But it feels a lot less casual the more things go on. Because when it's just the two of them, Red finally drops her trademark Rebel Riot personality and lets Chloe in to know her properly. And they start getting on (really really well). Red learns of Chloe's love for history and will listen to her rants for hours and hours. Chloe learns of Red's adoration for art, praising her sketchbooks contents.

And of course, when they learn the big things about each other, they're bound to start learning about the little things. Red's mind is a wealth of information about Chloe's little quirks and likes (and vice versa). Without knowing it, they're with each other more often than not on this tour (I'm thinking: late night drives on countryside roads singing along to the radio with the windows rolled down, stealing each others wardrobes, baking together, sneaking around in festivals when they're not on stage, having a constant back and forth dynamic on social media posts).

But the turning point for both of them, the moment when they realised that they were in danger, is when they start writing songs about each other. And, fucking hell. They write a lot of songs. There's piles of papers with lyrics about the other girl, which they keep private. Because in no way would they would ever want to share this.

So they carry on ignoring what is obviously going on. But cracks start showing in their friendship.

The jealousy gets worse (especially on Red's side, knowing Chloe tends to be oblivious of how charming she actually is). The need to be around each other is ever growing, deeming their clandestine meetings as insufficient to satiate their urge to be in each others presence (meaning they start hanging out publicly).

And then, there's a final thing that starts causing problems: Red's destructive habits. Because after all this time as Rebel Riot, Red is doing her damn best to keep up with the massive reputation she's created whilst she carries on improving her performance/impressing anyone. And this quest of hers is destroying her as she's taking it at a pace that is way too fast/idealistic to be healthy, but she can't help herself. She needs to be the best. She needs to prove to everyone that she's not weak. She needs to put on a front to show her parents that they were wrong for worrying about her starting her stardom young.

And at first it's 'small' things that Red is having issues with - she starts with skipping meals and sleep in order to practice/improve. But then that spirals and spirals.

Chloe doesn't realise Red's destructive habits until she's driving to a rehearsal studio, only to find out that Red had passed out when practicing a new dance formation earlier in the day. So obviously Chloe does the only logical thing: driving like a madwoman back to their hotel after she learns Red's been sent back to rest for the day. Chloe enters Red hotel room with her spare key (which somehow Red had acquired and decided to give to her) to find a startled Red.

Chloe goes on a miniature rant about how she'd like to know if something happened and how Red should really take care of herself. Because if she needs to start bringing Red breakfast everyday she goddamn will, and-

Chloe pauses at the sight of Red: sat on the hotel bed, straight out of a shower with a bathrobe on, a perplexed expression as if she wasn't expecting Chloe to be concerned for her well-being. But the thing that's stolen Chloe's attention? The mottled bruises all over Red's entire body. Bruises that Red had been hiding with mountains of expensive concealer.

After evading Red's typical responses to change the topic, it's revealed how badly Red's been pushing herself to perfect her performances. That her collapsing today was something mild in Red's mind.

With enough gentle questioning, Chloe gets enough of an idea of Red's state of mind and is the one to suggest that Red should pull out of the rest of the tour to take some time to heal/get help.

Red reacts very badly to this. Like very badly.

'Because she's perfectly fine and doesn't need fixing. Chloe just worries too much - and why should she care so much anyway? They're not that type of close to each other, its unnecessary and suffocating. Red's fine with committing to the the demands of being Rebel Riot as that's what makes her interesting enough for people to remain fans.'

Chloe is obviously furious Red is trying to push her away. And she's even more annoyed that Red can't see that she doesn't need to stick to the Rebel Riot persona, because Red Hearts is just as, if not more, likeable. There's no logical reason to why Red can't give up something that's causing her harm (and Chloe feels like she's being punched in the gut seeing the other girl like this).

They argue. And it's not like their previous conflicts. It's vicious and they're both saying things that they don't actually mean in the heat of the moment. And the next thing they know, what they have is over.

An hour after she entered, Chloe storms out of Red's hotel room. Both of the girls experiencing heartache. It's messy, and they're both back to how they were when they first met each other.

In fact, they're worse than they were before. Because, you guessed it! When there's anguish, more songs are being written. And this time, there's no lyrics about falling in love, instead there's quotes of what each other has said to the other, there's double meanings in the lyrics, there's rage.

And neither seem to quit it, because soon enough they decide to start playing some of these unreleased songs at the end of their set. And then there's glares being shot at each other from across the stage. There's arguing. And oh god, history repeats itself, because they're once again back together (in secret, of course). They can't seem to stay away from each other.

This time though, they are swearing to themselves that they're going to stay out of each others business. They'll only think about each other when they're with each other.

(They're the worst liars ever, because those self-imposed rules don't last more than 24 hours).

But still, Chloe and Red are in an odd place. More than friends, and less than partners. Red will have a reminder on her phone to remind Chloe to take her iron pills and she'll buy all of Chloe's expensive hair care to keep round hers. And Chloe will make sure to drag Red out to lunch everyday and will always be around to hold her at night (as Red seems to fall asleep a lot easier and earlier when she's in Chloe's arms).

But they don't talk about the elephant in the room. But it's getting harder for Chloe to ignore as she sees the tell-tale signs of Red withering away as the festival tour goes on.

And out of all the people Red keeps contact with, it's Maddox who has to point out the two of them are practically dating and to sort it out before everyone on set has to deal with another awkward week of them blowing up.

So... They talk. They have to.

And they don't get together.

Because Chloe highlights the fact that she won't be a bystander AND a girlfriend if Red keeps destroying herself. And Red doesn't want to say goodbye to her Rebel Riot persona. She doesn't want to admit it's time to let go and/or make a change.

They make it to the final week of the summer festival tour with ACMG, and they're pretty much acting like kicked puppies around each other. The cherry on top? Both their mothers are here to support them for their final show of the summer, and they can tell something has happened.

And have you ever told your mother about your summer fling/sort-of-nearly girlfriend/one that may have gotten away/the bane of your existence and the reason you get up in the morning? No? Well neither have Red and Chloe before, and they both feel like digging a small grave when they both end up doing so.

Both get information on why their mothers were so against them becoming celebrities when they first started off. And for Red, this incudes Bridget tearfully telling her daughter that she is so much more than what she can give to people. That she should live for herself and for the people she loves that love her back. And whilst she can't dictate what Red does, she really hopes that she won't make the same mistake she did decades ago.

A lot is going on in Red's mind when she goes up to be the closing act for the final show.

She goes through with her set, hears the cheers of her fans. And once playing her final song, she starts making her way off stage only to meet Chloe's eyes. Chloe who had been watching from the VIP section by the stage, in hopes to find some kind of closure or at least say goodbye. And Red knows what she needs to do.

She goes back, calling attention for one last song. The song she covers? One of Chloe's unreleased songs she had shared a few festivals ago. A song that was about the good in life and the joy she's found with Red.

Red's heard it only a handful of times, but she committed it to memory. And after performing the song, she's looking at only Chloe when she makes a large announcement.

She'll be abandoning her act as Rebel Riot for good. That she'll be taking a hiatus to have some time for herself and others that she loves before releasing new music under her own name, not a stage name.

There's mixed reactions in the crowd. But for the first time, Red doesn't care if she's disappointed her fans. Because Chloe is quickly making her way onto the stage, and she practically runs to Red. And before Red can whisper any apologies for the past, Chloe is bringing her into a kiss for all the world to see.

In that moment, they're only caring about each other. In that moment, they know they'll be okay and they're going to be able to work through this together.

#descendants: the rise of red #glassheart #chloe x red #red x chloe #chloe charming #redcharming #charminghearts #MajorlySapphic'sConcepts

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naeverse · 9 months ago

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Hearts On Fire

A/N: I completely adored writing this—like OMG!!! I just wanted to thank my bestie, @amariiyagurl , before diving into the story since she was the one who gave me the wonderful idea. Once again, I really, really enjoyed writing it, so thank you, girlie!!🤎🧡 Art(s) by: mariammew2 & Pinkiemme

🐴staring: BountyHunterMiguel O’Hara x Fem!SassyVaquera

🌵preview:

“What do ya want from me? To see me lose control? To go against my damn duties?!” The hunter shouted, his face trembling in uncontrollable anger. “What ya find pleasure in that? Seeing me lose my shit?”

“Why, yes indeed..."

🐮summary: Miguel O’Hara is a ruthless and cold bounty hunter of the Wild West, renowned for his sharp wit, perfect aim, and unprecedented tracking skills. He never cared about the outlaws he arrested, sometimes even killed. It was merely business in his eyes, nothing more.

It wasn’t until you revealed your beautiful face as an outlaw of the Wild West that the hunter found himself completely smitten by your gorgeous smile, ravishing body, and sharp tongue, which he both loved and hated.

But you were an outlaw, and he, a bounty hunter.

You and he were like water and oil.

You didn’t mix…

Or so it seemed…

🐴tw/cw: Bed-Sharing, Big Dick Miguel, Bondage, Butt Groping, Cock Bulge, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Doggystyle, Forbidden love, Late 1800s, Missionary, Multiple Orgasms, NFSW, Olfactophilla, Praises, Rough Sex, Squirting, Temperature Play (If you squint), Western Themed, Wild-West Base, 19th-Century

🍺Pet names: Cariño (Darling), Querida (Dear), Miel (Honey), Vaquera (Cowgirl), Bebè (Baby), Princesa (Princess),

🤎Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🌵 Word Count: 14.4k words

"Mierda!"

The curse fell from the lips of the notorious bounty hunter, Miguel O’Hara, upon dodging yet another set of flying bullets being shot at him. He growled, straightening up on his saddle and giving the reins of his ebony horse a sharp snap, pressing the spurs of his boots into its side to urge his adored stallion faster.

He couldn’t let you get away again.

Not this time...

Miguel O’Hara was a famous bounty hunter who was known throughout the Wild West for his reputation as a relentless tracker and unmatched sharpshooter. The mere mention of his name struck fear into the hearts of outlaws, knowing that if you had a hefty price and were on the bounty hunter’s list, you were as good as captured, or in some cases…

Dead.

Although Miguel had an infamous reputation of being the end of many ruthless and cunning outlaws, there was one that always managed to slip through his fingers…

You.

Y/N, the vaquera with the excellent aim, sexy body, and witty tongue always seemed to continuously evade his capture. He couldn’t help but despise the woman just as much as he secretly admired her.

It was always that damn mouth of hers…

She could sweet-talk and charm almost anyone, even the infamous bounty hunter, which was the reason behind his countless missed arrests of the beautiful vaquera.

But not today.

Miguel was going to make sure of it.

"Vamos, Xian! Vamos!" Miguel shouted to his horse, his body leaning forward as his black stallion snorted in response, her hooves thudding faster against the rocky and dry terrain of the desert. Miguel's black durst coat blew behind him in the wind as his mahogany eyes were trained on your figure, riding upon your horse just a few miles ahead.

A wicked smirk spread across the hunter’s lips upon getting closer to you.

‘You aren’t getting away this time.’

Miguel thought, effortlessly, he hoisted his iconic steel six-shooter from its holster, aiming the long barrel directly at you, who was galloping at lightning speed to escape the notorious bounty hunter. With a click of his thumb upon the hammer to cock the gun, he didn’t hesitate to shoot, pulling the trigger.

Only for a second, the piercing sound of the bullet’s release reverberated through the desert, to be followed with a frustrated snarl from the hunter at the sight of you dodging it.

You let out a gasp, one hand flying up to clutch your brown wide-brimmed hat to keep it from flying away, just as you veered your horse to the left to avoid the passing bullet.

You glanced over your shoulder with a taunting smirk on your cherry lips, the sight only making Miguel’s blood boil. “Stop fuckin’ runnin'!” He bellowed, his gruff voice full of rage with a potent Western and Latino accent.

A soft laugh passed your lips at him. “Stop chasin’ me then!” You shouted back with an amused smile that almost took Miguel’s breath away; but in that brief moment of awe, he didn’t notice when the attractive vaquera pulled her gun out, firing at him once more.

His attempt at dodging the bullet was unsuccessful as a loud whine from his horse filled the desert.

“Xina!”

Miguel exclaimed in shock and worry, feeling his stallion stagger in her steps and begin to slow down. His mahogany eyes snapped up to see you getting further away from him, Xina’s whimpers of pain bringing his attention back to his wounded horse as he knew she wouldn’t be able to keep up with you.

Not in this state…

At that revelation, irritation filled Miguel's being. “Shit! I almost had her!” He hissed in frustration, watching the beautiful vaquera ride off into the distance. He clenched the reins of his horse tightly, trying to calm his anger.

“I’ll find you again, Cariño.

I promise you…”

It was now evening, and you were sitting inside a saloon in a town you'd encountered, enjoying a nice glass of whiskey after your successful getaway from the infamous bounty hunter.

“Another glass, and keep ‘em comin’,” you exclaimed to the bartender with a grin as he poured you another glass of the alcoholic drink.

You smiled, bringing the whiskey to your lips when you, suddenly, felt something hard press into your side. You winced at the sensation of the solid object being jabbed harshly into your ribs before a warm and overpowering presence came over you.

"Holler or make any sudden moves, and I’ll gladly put a bullet in ya.”

You bit your lip, instantly recognizing the deep voice of the owner of the gun currently prodding into your inner organs. “Why, if it ain’t Miguel O’Hara. It’s nice to see ya again.” You chuckled in a breathy tone due to the piercing pain, watching the large bounty hunter take a seat on a wooden stool beside you at the bar. His grip on his gun seemed to tighten after your greeting.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips at the sight of the massive, stoic Latino.

Miguel O’Hara was a hunter you’ve never met before—so determined, stern, and versatile. He was honestly a jack of all trades, and one that had greatly piqued your interest upon encountering him for the first time six months ago.

Dressed like a shadow, he was adorned in his usual attire of a black durst coat, collared shirt, pants, and black sturdy boots. A wide-brimmed hat, with a skull, also sat upon his head of coffee-brown curls and tanned, rugged features.

Instantly upon meeting his cold mahogany orbs, you knew he’d be fun to play with—more than the other hunters. But you had to admit, the Latino didn’t get his great reputation senselessly.

He always gave you a run for your money—just like now…

You peered at the silent bounty hunter, trying to suppress the urge to wince from his gun still poking into your side. Your eyes roamed his face, taking in his hardened expression of a clenched jaw and permanent scowl that could curdle milk. His mahogany eyes, hooded by his black hat, traced your seated figure.

You could see the conflict occurring behind those enchanting orbs of his.

He was trying to make sense of you, but he simply couldn’t…

In all of Miguel’s years of being a bounty hunter, you always seemed to surprise him. With a loaded gun pressed into your side that could be fired any moment, you didn’t seem a bit fazed.

He’d seen outlaws that practically shit their pants at being held at gunpoint, yet you continued to drink your whiskey and kick your legs under the table like you were enjoying a nice lil’ ride on a wagon.

The bounty hunter was secretly impressed, but that damn taunting smirk of yours was working his last nerve.

“I can’t say the same 'bout you, chica,” he bluntly replied, leaning in close, as you instsntly felt his anger radiating from his body.

“You not only robbed that fuckin’ train, but you shot my damn horse.” He spat harshly, his voice full of malice. His gun dug deeper into your side, and his face was so close to yours that your breath was practically mixing. “And you hurt my Xina; I should shoot you dead right here.

Right now.”

The bounty hunter threatened through gritted teeth. You rolled your eyes, hearing him say the same thing before. “Then why don't you?” You asked, taking a sip of your whiskey.

Miguel's thick eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your inquiry, his puzzlement only making him angrier. Once again, you were using that sharp tongue of yours to try and screw with his brain. “What shit are you yappin’ now?” He growled, irritation found in his voice.

A snicker left your cherry lips at the hunter’s perplexion. “It's not that hard a question, Miguel.” You giggled, peering over at him from under the hood of your brown hat.

“Why haven't you shot me dead yet, hm?”

You smirked, watching his tan, rugged features scrunch up further in rage, the sight pleasing you immensely.

Miguel's grip tightened upon the handle of his pistol, his teeth clenched so harshly that he believed they'll break any moment. “Perhaps I'd rather see how that pretty face of yers would hold up in prison.”

You laughed, taking note of his compliment. “Whatever you say…” You snickered, turning to take another sip of your whiskey.

"Whatever I fuckin’ say!?" Miguel snarled, unable to believe how nonchalantly you were taking him. Most outlaws’ attitudes would hastily change at the mere presence of the infamous bounty hunter, but here you were, still badmouthing him and acting like this was a joke.

It was only enraging Miguel further…

His scowl deepened as he sharply thrust the barrel of his six-shooter into your side, making you groan. “Here you are playin’ games and talkin’ shit like this is just a fun lil’ evening for ya.”

“Because it is.” You retorted, trying to ignore how your side would surely be bruised with how deep his gun was burrowed into your skin, despite being covered by your shirt.

Miguel figured you'd say that, but it still didn't make him less pissed.

“Then I'll love nothin’ more than to wipe that damn smirk from yer face, especially after what ya did to my precious Xina.” Miguel threatened, his mahogany eyes seeming to become a scarlet red at his seething anger.

You scoffed, shooting him a glare. “This fuckin’ horse again?!” You spat in irritation. “I believe your damn horse is real fine.” You replied, casting a glance at the entrance of the saloon to see his ebony horse standing behind the gated entrance. She looked relatively healthy, aside from a bandage upon the side of her massive black body. “Stop over exaggerating; it looks like just a darn graze to me.”

“And that fucking ‘graze’ is going to cost me a hefty sum of cash,” he sternly said, but despite how angry he was at you…

Damn, you were too sexy for your own good…

He couldn’t help letting his eyes drift down your body, taking in your vaquera attire of a simple pair of dark blue, slim-fitted pants and a matching button-up with brown fringe along your outfit. A set of brown boots and a wide-brim hat sat upon your head. He also took notice of how the outfit seemed to accentuate every piece of you.

Your attire was not only breathtaking, but it broke all the regulations assigned by men when it came to the makeup of a woman. Unlike the proper lady, pants adorned your gorgeous legs instead of the usual housewife skirt.

However, despite how rebellious your entire outfit was, it made you look hotter than a Texas summer; your stunning body was a quality the bounty hunter couldn’t get enough of, and it never failed to stir a wave of conflicting emotions through him.

Miguel cleared his throat, shaking off his adoration and lust for you to replace it with the annoying and rageful traits you shared instead. He leaned in close, his western and Latino-accented voice dropping to a low whisper.

"You must be aware of the hefty bounty on yer head, don’t ya, princesa?” He inquired in a hushed tone, not wanting anyone to overhear.

Miguel's breath fanned against your cheek due to his closeness, the sensation causing tingles to run down your backside. “Indeed, I do.” You simply stated. “A thousand…Correct?”

Miguel laughed darkly at your reply, shaking his head. “After your little shenanigans in that boom town last month, your price has been raised, sweetheart.” He uttered, your sweet natural scent along with the sweat and dirt on your skin filling his senses, igniting his concealed desire.

“Five thousand...”

The hunter stated, causing your heart to drop. However, your face held its usual unbothered expression upon hearing the new price. You looked away from him, snatching up your glass of whiskey in frustration. Miguel smirked, watching you gulp down the rest of your glass in hopes of calming your nerves.

“Five thousand is on your head, dead or alive, querida.” He said, finally taking notice of your adamant attempt to avoid his eyes, the sight angering him.

Without warning, he took your chin in his large, gloved hand, snapping your head to meet his stern and rageful ones. Your eyebrows furrowed in a mix of anger and surprise upon his sudden action.

“Be thankful I haven't filled ya with lead, chica, with yer attitude that option is seemin’ more and more temptin’.” He growled, his eyes roaming the beautiful face that has caused so many problems in the West. Your beauty only fueling his fury.

“You've been a damn thorn in my side since your first robbery down in the Southwest.” He rasped, his gloved fingers tightening around your jaw as with his every word, his barrel pressed deeper into your side, causing your eyebrows to screw together in pain.

You groaned softly, glaring daggers at him, and noticed some of the customers of the saloon starting to look over at the two of you.

“I'll be darn, that's Miguel O'Hara, ain't it. Look, Willy, ain't it?”

“And here I thought you were pullin’ my leg, Hank. That is him—but wait… and that's that cowgirl too, right?”

“Shoot dang, it is!”

The chatter of two loud older male customers filled your ears. Their recognition of not just Miguel but also you really pissed you off.

‘I didn't come here to cause a damn scene and draw attention to myself. Got enough shit to deal with as it is.’

You thought angrily, deciding it was time to make your exit. With an endearing grin, you gazed up at the bounty hunter, placing a hand onto his forearm that grasped your jaw and giving it a gentle caress with your fingertips. “Miguel, dear, we've been at each other's throats for months now…ain't we, babes?” You stated with a pout, continuing to brush the pad of your fingers along his arm with your eyes trained on him.

The bounty hunter completely stiffened at your touch, his mahogany eyes glancing down to your hand before snapping back to you.

He knew you were trying to seduce him with your alluring eyes, hypnotizing touch, and sultry voice, but damn was it hard to resist you. His desire was already growing, and your enticement was only feeding the flames.

“We have…” He practically growled through gritted teeth, the only thing keeping him stable was his grip on his steel six-shooter that was still piercing into your ribs, reminding him of his duties and reputation along with the importance of him detaining you…

Or killing you…

Miguel's eyes, practically red, glared down at you; seeing the bounty hunter angry always seemed to rile you up even more. You bit your lip, running your fingers up to his bare wrist, the only bit of skin that wasn't concealed by his sleeve or leather gloves.

You traced your fingertips along the valley of bulging veins that resided there, keeping your eyes on him. “Indeed, hunter…so perhaps, we can become allies instead of enemies, eh?” You suggested while caressing his wrist.

Miguel's jaw clenched, unable to ignore the wave of heat that was spreading through his being at your touch, and he only became more enraged at his body's adorning responses.

It was always like this with you…

He finally gets you cornered with nowhere else to go, believing he has won before you allure him enough to give him the slip.

Miguel had promised himself that today would be different, that today would be the day he would finally catch you; but with the way you were looking up at him from under your beautiful eyelashes, stroking his wrist and speaking to him so seductively…

He was close to taking you right there at the bar.

“I don't align myself with people, let alone outlaws, miel.” He said, trying to stay focused on his mission and not the growing excitement in his pants.

At his rejection, your pout deepened.

“And here I thought the last time we met up like this was somethin’ special…”

You slyly trailed off with a devious grin, watching, for a moment, as the bounty hunter’s thick eyebrows furrowed in disbelief and shock.

‘She really went there.’ Miguel thought, smirking at the recollection of his previous heated encounter with the beautiful vaquera and how very pleasing it was.

He removed his revolver from your side, tucking it back into his holster but not removing his large hand that encased your jaw. “You think bringin’ that up is going to save your sexy ass?” He inquired with a chuckle, his words bringing a smile to your lips. “No…not with you.” You giggled, batting your lashes up at him. “You are too smart for that.”

Miguel’s eyes narrowed in frustration. He hated how slick that mouth of yours was—it was like an eel dipped in oil, able to outwit and outsmart anyone with just a smile and a little teasing.

And goodness, did you love to tease…

You grinned, looking up at Miguel. “Mmm, but just think of how good it was, Miggy.” You uttered, moving your hands to run along the front of his duster coat, gripping the flaps and pulling him closer to you.

Miguel growled softly, his pants seeming to become painfully tighter the more you spoke and talked to him.

With a glance down, it wasn't hard to miss how aroused the hunter was. The enormity under the black fabric of his trousers demanding attention and yours, in particular. You smirked, finally having him under your control.

“You remember, don't ya?” You whispered, leaning in closely to the hunter's face, his stern expression faltering at your nearness.

Miguel tried hard to resist you, but it was like he was under your spell, feeling your lips ghost along his jaw, up to his ear.

“How good ya felt in my throat and how well I took ya?”

You muttered seductively into his ear while removing a hand from his coat to trail down his chest. Your fingers tracing his bulging pecs and abs as you descended further.

“Just imagine how good yer feel elsewhere? Perhaps…”

Your fingers found what you desired, looping through his front belt loop of his pants, and tugging him towards you with a seductive grin. A gasp escaped his lips, his black-gloved hand landing on your arm, ceasing your movements as his mahogany, slightly dazed, and lustful eyes gazed down at you. Your hands upon his pants, temptingly close to where he wanted you the most, drove him to the edge.

You instantly became surprised, the rare sight of such an expression upon your gorgeous face enough to cause him to stir underneath his briefs; however, he was once again conflicted—not knowing if he should listen to his head or his desires when it came to you.

You were just too risky to let go, and too sexy to lock up…

And there was a wretched part of him that didn't want to see the sexy vaquera in bars, regardless of how much of a pain in the ass you were.

So, what should be done with you...?

You gazed up at Miguel, taking notice of how his stoic expression had returned—that attractive smirk of his gone and replaced with his scowl like before. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

Was he not buying it?

Was he about to arrest you?

Shit, you were nervous as hell.

“Miguel? Babes-”

“Stand up.”

Miguel abruptly said, removing his hand from your jaw and pulling away. You laughed nervously, reaching out for his gloved hand. “O-Oh, Miggy, who knew you were quite the funny one-” Your dismissive words were cut off by the hunter suddenly swatting your hand from him and hastily grabbing your arms, pulling you onto your feet. A gasp passed your lips at his rough actions.

“What the hell?!” You shouted as effortlessly, Miguel tossed your body over his broad shoulder as if you were featherlight. His burly arm wrapped around the back of your thighs to hold you firmly against his massive body.

You scoffed in disbelief, laying upon what felt like a boulder for a shoulder. “What the fuck is wrong with ya! I-If you don't put me down, ya sidewindin’ two-faced piece of shit!” You hollered whilst punching his backside in hopes of him releasing you, but to the hunter, you were like a dust devil—all wind and no impact.

Miguel turned, taking notice of the obvious attention the two of you were bringing—many of the customers now staring. The hunter tipped his hat to the fellow individuals of the saloon in a gesture of apology. “Pardon the ruckus, folks, this just business.” Miguel said in his usual, gruff voice, the vibrations of his tone rumbling throughout his massive body.

With a smirk, the bounty hunter carried you out of the saloon, your loud and repetitive kicks and curses following the two of you.

Miguel stepped outside, taking in the earthy and sagebrush scent of the new town he'd tracked you down to, named Roca Roja. It was a town that he could count on his fingers how many times he'd visited, but currently, he'd never seen so many bodies decorating the streets, especially as the sun was now setting on the horizon.

However, he couldn't exactly enjoy the nice, dry breeze of night with your damn yelling in his ear.

“I don't know what the hell is goin’ on in that thick skull of yer's, but yer've done lost yer darn mind!” You yelled from atop Miguel's shoulder as his black boots crunched under the rocky terrain of Roca Roja.

He continued to ignore your insults and shouts, clicking his tongue to signal his horse that fell into step beside him.

The hunter's Xina, an Appaloosa with a beautiful white spotted pattern down her ebony backside and around her snout, walked next to the both of you. Her loud snorts and clomps of her hooves filled the night and drawing your attention, but what really caught your eye was the nicely wrapped bandage that covered her torso.

You averted your eyes from the horse, feeling slightly guilty, but your demands and protests never ceased while the hunter continued to bring you to this unknown location. “Where are ya even takin’ me!?” You exclaimed, continuing another barrage of heavy punches to his muscular backside to no avail. His boulder of a shoulder digging into your already bruised side, only further angering you.

Your punches and kicks were completely useless to the huge male. Once you became tired, you slumped upon his shoulder, wincing slightly at how it continued to jab into your bruised ribs. You scowled, glaring over at the hunter. “What the hell is the matter with ya? Kidnappin’ a gal like this is a crime too if ya didn't know!” You shouted in annoyance.

Miguel heaved an irritated sigh, not understanding how a sexy thing like you can have such a nasty attitude. “If ya stop ya bitchin' I just might answer yer questions!” He shouted back at you.

A growl passed your cherry lips, finally quieting down to allow the hunter to speak. “Now…what's going through that pretty noggin’ of yer's is correct.

I'm takin’ ya in.”

Your eyes widened at his words, hastily, returning back to trying to escape.

You'll be damned if you go to jail so easily like this…

Swift hands flew to your holsters on your hips to find them empty, your revolvers missing from their places. The dark laughter from the hunter following your discovery only made your heart drop.

“Looking for yer guns, Cariño?” He taunted, giving your ass a playful smack, making you jolt. The sensation left you in a mix of anger and arousal at his spank. “Yer been a bad gal, so no guns for a beaut like you.”

You snarled, glaring at him. “So what!? After everythin’ we've been through, yer just gonna throw me to the wolves? You know what they'll do to me in there!” You exclaimed, trying to hide the worry in your tone at possibly being a part of such an unsanitary place with harsh conditions that could cause any sane person to lose their sanity.

Miguel's arm tightened around your thighs, his heart shamefully tugging. “Don't tell me yer scared, vaquera,” he teased, continuing to walk through town with you over his shoulder. “Shut it, hunter,” you scowled, delivering another punch to his backside in rage that only left him laughing. “Why, if ya do the crime, ya do the time. You know the law,” he replied.

You heaved a sigh, not believing after all your fun you would be sent to a place so hideous and dehumanizing— some jails didn't even separate by genders.

You'll surely lose your mind in there…

“Yer not…seriously goin’ to take me back to Nueva Yorkano in one night, ain't ya?” you inquired, hoping it was a ‘nay.’

Miguel grunted, acknowledging that his horse, Xina, wouldn't be able to make a trip to the town, Nueva Yorkano, where you were most wanted in, without breaks, especially at night. There were many obstacles a traveler could encounter—coyotes, ruthless vaqueros, the harsh elements, and the extreme drop in temperature were all your enemies on a night journey through the desert.

The hunter cast a glance over at his horse whose steps were already starting to slow down. His wounded stallion hurt him more than anything due to him raising her from just a young foal; seeing her like this tore him up inside.

“Nay, we'll be gettin’ a room,” Miguel stated, clicking his tongue and gesturing with his head for his horse to follow him to the right, changing his destination to the nearest inn.

A grin spread across your cherry lips at your delayed arrest.

‘Perhaps, I can escape before we-’

“Fuck! What the hell!?!” You exclaimed at the sharp spank Miguel delivered to your rear, the smack pulling you from your thoughts and leaving an intense sting. “Don't get any funny ideas, chica, I'm still pissed at you about Xina,” he growled. “So try anythin’, I won't hesitate to rough you up, got it!?”

You rubbed your sizzling rear-end, muttering under your breath. “Rough me up…” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You won't dare put ya hands on me,” you said from atop his shoulder as Miguel heard every word, bringing a smirk to his lips.

“Why…there are other ways I can ‘rough’ you up, Muñeca.”

Miguel uttered suggestively; one could dare say the hunter was flirting with you. You chuckled, smiling over at the stoic male. “Well, puttin’ it like that, it sounds like somethin’ I wouldn't mind experiencin’ then.” You giggled.

Miguel grunted in irritation at your comment, trying to ignore how turned on he became at your response. His mahogany eyes located a small inn nearby, its sign holding in big letters:

‘Cobweb Comfort.’

“We'll rest there,” Miguel replied, walking over as you looked over in the direction he was taking you, a groan passing your lips.

“You must be pullin’ my leg, Miguel. Here! Of all places!?” you whined, taking in the rustic and aged inn with paint peeling from its walls from years of neglect and windows layered with desert dust.

The closer Miguel got to the place, you could make out the uneven porch, loud creaking rocking chairs that sat upon it, and the nearby stable that showed many signs of disrepair but held many horses inside.

Everything about the inn was distasteful in your eyes, wishing to reside elsewhere that actually gave some care to the appearance of their establishment unlike this one.

Despite your complaints, the hunter ignored you, signaling for his horse to wait by the door before going into the inn.

The door creaked open, and you observed how the tall hunter's hand clutched his black hat as he slightly lowered to pass under the short doorway upon entering.

The interior of the inn looked quite similar to its exterior, with peeling wallpaper, heavily scuffed floors, and faded landscape paintings upon the walls.

Miguel's eyes took in the lobby of the rustic inn, instantly making contact with a rather familiar man sitting behind a weathered wooden counter. The innkeeper seemed more invested in smoking and reading his book to even notice the both of your arrival.

You scoffed. “Trash-ass customer service too. Darn, didn't see that comin’.” You mumbled sarcastically with an eye-roll, earning an annoyed grunt from Miguel.

The hunter approached the desk, his boots thudding upon the wooden floorboards, causing it to creak with his every step. The wood and smoky scent only intensified the further he walked into the inn.

Miguel peered over the counter, staring intently at the male that looked to be his same age, who was still oblivious to him having customers. Strangely, the innkeeper seemed familiar to the hunter, but due to the few oil lamps that hang from hooks inside the lobby, he was unable to see him clearly.

Miguel cleared his throat, hastily getting the male's attention, his amber eyes glancing up in surprise. “Ah, pardon me, didn't see ya there.” He chuckled, closing his book and standing from his chair, although, upon making eye contact, both men recognized each other.

“Well, I'll be damned, Miguel O'Hara! My buddy!” The guy said, giving the stoic man a friendly pat on the shoulder that the hunter simply glanced at.

Peter B. Parker was a bubbly and too jolly innkeeper that Miguel had saved a few months ago from being shot dead by an outlaw he'd been tailing. On the spot, the auburn-haired man bought Miguel drinks and offered him a free spot anytime at his inn to repay him—but the hunter didn't think he'd ever actually encounter him again…

Miguel gave Peter a mere grunt for a greeting, the male snickering as he exhaled the smoke from his cigarette. “Still not much of a talker, I see.” Peter joked.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise at Miguel actually having friends.

You never would have thought…

You peered over your shoulder at the innkeeper, making eyes with the rugged-featured male that had auburn short, slick back hair upon an ivory skin tone face of stubble with a cigarette hanging from his lips. A dark blue button-up, tan pants, and dark brown boots adorned his rather lean body, except for his plump stomach that was visible through his shirt. You glanced upon the name tag that clung to his top, reading Peter B. Parker.

“Well, I see yer still on the job.” The guy named Peter commented, looking at you as you flashed him a smile and a wink from Miguel's shoulder. The male wolf whistled at the sight. “And a looker too-”

“Peter!”

Miguel barked, his mahogany eyes flashing red. “Give me a damn room and stop wasting my time.”

You chuckled at Miguel's evident sign of jealousy while Peter only shook his head at the hunter's sudden anger. “Fine, fine, seems someone is ready to hit the hay.” Peter said, rummaging around on his desk for his desired items.

“But just wonderin’ if it's your own head that's gettin’ the rest or yer alluding to somethin’ else.” Peter smirked, glancing over at you and then Miguel playfully. “I must warn ya, them walls in this inn ain't that solid.” The innkeeper laughed as you could feel the fuming rage radiating from Miguel's body at the innkeeper's comment. It took everything to hold back from laughing at the rather hilarious interaction.

“Peter…” Miguel growled through gritted teeth, his voice full of warning. “Okay, pardon me, let me see here…” Peter said, snickering to himself while peering through another large hardback that looked similar to a registration book.

Miguel stared at Peter as he located a room for the two of you in his ledger, never in the hunter's entire life did he wish to leave a conversation.

After a while of looking in silence, a disappointed, shoot dang, was muttered by Peter. He shook his head, looking up at Miguel. “There's only one room left.” He said, looking over at you and then at the hunter.

“And it's a singles.”

“Mierda.” Miguel cursed under his breath, looking at you and then at Peter. He was certain that spending a night with you in an enclosed bedroom would lead to nothing but disaster.

One that would only lead in himself and you tangled up in the sheets and experiencing another moment of unashamed passion.

“Why the hell is there only one!?” Miguel inquired in irritation causing the innkeeper to chuckle, raising his hands in defense. “No need to yell at me. I'm just doin’ my job.” He said. “But a few days ago, gold was found along the bank, folks been comin’ from all ‘round to try and get some.” He explained, causing another curse to leave the hunter's lips.

You sighed, glancing over at Miguel. “Told ya, we shouldn't have come here.” You added as Peter looked up at you. “Actually, every inn is real full in Roca Roja, due to the gold strike and everythang.” Peter said, picking up a quill and dipping it into the bottle of ink. “But gotta love it, has my business boomin’ at the moment.” He chuckled, glancing up at the hunter and you.

“So…You stayin’?” He asked, his amber orbs mainly on Miguel, awaiting his response.

The hunter sighed, seeming like he'd hit a trail's end.

He knew Xina would need time to recover—her injury wasn't major compared to what it could have been, but his stallion being on her hooves would only worsen it.

Xina resting up would do her some good.

Taking Peter's word that the inns were all full, Miguel would hate to try his luck and spend the night roaming all of Roca Roja, pushing Xina and hearing more of your yapping, just to end up roomless.

At least here, he wouldn't have to pay…

“Fine.” Miguel growled, watching a beaming smile spread across the smoking innkeeper. “That's the spirit. Here ya be well takin’ care of.” Peter promised, jotting down the hunter's name under a room and handing him the key.

Miguel tucked the brass key into the pocket of his black durst coat. “And Peter, ‘nother request.” The hunter added, suddenly dropping a wad of cash upon the counter, the sight surprising both Peter and you. “I know ya have connections, so find Xina a good doctor and tend to her real nice.” Miguel ordered.

The brown-haired male nodded, tucking the cash into his pocket and walking around the counter. “Of course, I love nothing more than to help my buddy.” He chuckled, thanking Miguel and you for staying at his inn with a pat on the hunter's back and a tip of his hat in your direction before he left to fulfill Miguel's requests.

The hunter heaved a sigh, standing alone with you in the lobby, who was still slung over his shoulder like a sack of flour. He casted you a glance, already feeling a stir inside of him at the mere thought of seclusion with you, and he hated every bit of it…

He already had a feeling that disaster was impending—one he wouldn't be able to stop no matter how hard he tried…

“Yer jokin’, right?”

You asked from your curled position upon the singular bed in your shared room. It wasn't the fact that Miguel had insisted on sleeping in a mere lounge chair across the room that led to such an inquiry; it was the fact of how the hunter believed you'd get any sleep with your hands and legs tightly bound together by rope.

Your eyes were trained on his seated form upon the aged lounge chair of the room, his massive legs spread, and his body dressed only in his black wide-brimmed hat, black button-up top, pants, and boots. His durst coat hung on the back of the raw umber cushion while his mahogany eyes stared back at your restrained being.

He lit what felt like his fourth cigarette since the two of you entered, placing the tobacco between his lips and taking a deep inhale before releasing the smoke through his nose.

He remained silent at your question, simply keeping his eyes on you like a guard dog.

It was quite unnerving…

“Hey Miguel! You there, or are ya lost in the tumbleweeds!?” You shouted at him in annoyance while wiggling upon the bed like a fish out of water.

“What is it?” He said, finally acknowledging you with his words rather than his piercing gaze. You sighed, looking over at him through your long eyelashes and putting on your most pitiful expression. “Oh why…t-this rope is real tight, you see. I-I can't even feel my limbs.” You uttered, laying on your side with a pout. “Can't you maybe…loosen them a tad bit?” You genuinely asked because upon bounding you, Miguel had fastened the ropes so taut that it was practically etching an imprint into your skin and cutting off blood circulation.

“Nay…” Miguel simply stated, taking another puff from his cigarette. At his denial, you growled in frustration. “Why, at least stop your damn smokin'. You're makin’ it hard to breathe in this already dusty inn.” You complained, burying your face into the beige blankets in irritation.

But if only you knew how much Miguel was holding on by a thread.

Upon entering the shared bedroom, he instantly felt it…

The longing.

The arousal.

He never gave a damn about things like that—too busy with his bounty job to care. But ever since you've shown your face and made an appearance as a new fugitive, he began to desire it…

You were always on his mind, even during the times you went into hiding, and he was tracking someone new.

He craved you,

needed you.

Now you were laying upon a bed, bound tightly like a pig being served to him on a platter, and it was taking every fiber of his being to stay rooted in his seat.

Miguel's eyes traced your body, taking in your fallen hat and unkempt hair upon the bed, hands bound behind your back along with your ankles secured tightly together. Your clothes hugged your figure even more than they did before, the sight only leaving Miguel clawing at the armrests of his seat.

He took another huge inhale, watching his cigarette slowly losing its life because of his need for solace when your voice filled the room again. “Hunter, can I ask ya a question?”

“I'd rather you not.” He hastily responded in his dead tone, knowing any signs of flirtation or seduction would have him out of his chair in a blink of an eye.

You rolled your eyes at his words. “Come on, now. I can't sleep; you ‘parrently not going to either, so… let's talk.” You chuckled, looking over at the bounty hunter from your restrained position.

“Since my days of freedom are numbered. Might as well…” You added, causing Miguel to sigh, your words secretly tugging at him. He took his dying cigarette into his gloved fingers, snuffing it out in a nearby tray. “Speak then, but say anythin’ improper, I won't hesitate to put ya to sleep myself.” He threatened, but you couldn't help but have your head go straight into the gutter.

“Put me to sleep, ya say…?” You smirked, biting your lip at the thought of having some other type of restless fun with the hunter. Miguel scowled at your suggestive tone, anger the only thing keeping his arousal at bay. “You know what I mean; now either ask yer question or shut yer mouth and sleep.”

You rolled your eyes, taking in the hunter's booted foot constantly bouncing against the wooden floorboards and the sight of him lighting yet another cigarette. “Are ya stressed or somethin’?” You asked, watching his chest greatly rise due to his massive inhale of the cigarette—his pecs and abdominal muscles becoming accentuated under his shirt.

“You can say that.” He replied, avoiding your eyes to look out the window behind you. “Well, then let's talk 'bout it. What's yer problem?” You inquired with a grin. “What's got ya so antsy that yer glued to that pack of cigarettes?”

Miguel glanced at you, mahogany eyes narrowing in thought of if he should speak about his ‘problem’ or not, soon deciding the latter. “None of your darn business.”

You snickered, expecting him to remain secretive. “Damn…must be real bad.” You assumed, glancing over at him and making eye contact, causing the hunter to hastily look away, a grunt of irritation passing in response.

Miguel was obviously avoiding your gaze, and you couldn't help but find the large male's attempts rather adorable. You grinned, turning your eyes up to the ceiling, allowing a pleasant silence to fill the room, except for the rhythmic bounce of Miguel's sturdy black boot upon the floorboards. You deeply inhaled, taking in a big whiff of the hunter's cigarette smoke before speaking.

“I believe I know what yer ‘business’ is, hunter...”

Miguel's heart dropped at your words, his blood running cold as every part of his body stilled. His tongue fiddled with the cigarette between his lips as he eyed your tied body, taking notice of your ability to maneuver onto your back, now gazing up at the ceiling.

He took in the sight of you, your waves of beautiful hair spread like a tapestry, creating a soft frame around your head. He clicked his tongue, taking another puff of his cigarette.

‘This gal is just tryin’ to get under my skin. She don't know a thang.’

Miguel thought, trying to keep a level head. “Vaquera, you don't know what yer talkin’ ‘bout,” he said dismissively, leaning back in his chair and taking his cigarette into his two fingers, exhaling the smoke through his lips.

You hummed, his avoidance only making you want to poke the bear further. “Oh, I believe I do,” you stated, keeping your eyes on the ceiling.

“Over these past couple of months, yer've been watchin’ me, as I've also been watchin’ you, hunter.” You said in a mysterious voice, Miguel's hardened face faltering at your confession.

A sly grin spread across your lips as you pressed on. “I've read and heard how the great bounty hunter captures and kills many outlaws—never taking him more than a week to complete a bounty and not given a rat's ass about any of ‘em.” You explained. “‘Even toppin’ yer rival, the great, Jessie Owens and her gunslingers on many occasions with yer many arrests.” You chuckled tauntingly.

Miguel felt a mix of emotions, stuck between being flattered and irritated at your constant prodding. He glanced over at you, flicking the ash of his cigarette into the tray, trying to figure out what you were getting at.

The hunter hated when you screwed with his brain and made him feel like a hopeless mutt that you had wrapped around your finger.

He wanted you to get to the damn point…

“And what ‘bout it?” The hunter snarled, glaring daggers at you. You simply giggled as if you weren't being targeted by a raging bull. “Be patient, Miggy, I'm gettin’ there.” You teased, your tone of voice and nickname causing the hunter’s insides to stir.

“What did I tell ya ‘bout that name?” He spat coldly, his voice holding a tone of dominance. You only laughed, struggling over onto your side to get a better view of the hunter. “To not call ya that, but yer should know better than anyone that I don't follow the rules.” You said, giving him a fake pout whilst laying your head upon the soft blanket, trying to find comfort despite being tightly restrained.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes at your fake pout that he couldn’t help but find adorable. “‘Cause yer've never had proper punishment.” He bluntly stated, his cigarette smoke leaving his lips and nose to further encase the room.

You bit your lip, glancing over at the smoking Latino up and down. “And what punishment is proper in yer eyes, hunter?” You inquired, knowing he'd surely take the bait.

Miguel looked at you, your perfect skin, the way you bite your lip, the sight only causing his breath to catch in his throat. It didn't help how tightly your clothing hugged your body, the rope only further accentuating your figure and leaving nothing to imagination of how you looked underneath all that fabric.

He wanted nothing more than to see you in all your glory…

Your eyes darted down at an evident bulge that poked against the hunter’s black pants, the corners of your lips turning up into a devious grin. The Latino, like you anticipated, took the bait, falling right into your trap.

“A proper punishment is tossin’ ya across my lap and bruisin’ that pretty ass until ya learn to behave.”

The hunter said huskily, desire potent in his western-Latino accentuated voice; however, upon seeing your amused smirk and raised eyebrow at what he'd just confessed, he cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “Just…goes to show that yer parents didn't teach ya how to conduct yerself properly. Anyone would believe the same.”

“Mhm…” You hummed teasingly, unable to hold back from laughing. Miguel scowled at you, hating how you always seemed to make him feel like a schoolboy time and time again. His lust and arousal blinding him so greatly that he’ll forget everything—his duties, the consequences, who you were to him.

You were a damn criminal, a dangerous one at that, with your sharp tongue and killer body that can seduce any and everyone. You did whatever it took to satisfy your own wants and desires, so why the hell was it so troubling for him to detain you?! He'd taken down and killed many outlaws, so why?

The hunter’s hands clenched tightly into fists upon the armrests, his knuckles turning white with tension under his gloves. His mahogany eyes appeared redder with his raging fury. “Stop playin’ ‘round and get to the damn point!” He barked, taking another deep inhale of his cigarette.

You grinned at his satisfying anger, the hunter never disappointing you when it came to him showing how evidently you were pissing him off, but you’ve gotten what you were seeking from him— his previous response answering your prediction.

“Fine, ya fancy me…

Don't ya, hunter?”

Miguel's heart skipped a beat at your perfect assumption. It took everything in him to hide his emotions—something he'd never had a hard time doing until now.

He scoffed, averting his gaze. “Ya wish, sweetheart.” He coldly said, snuffing out his fifth cigarette into the ashtray and wetting his lips with his tongue.

You chuckled, shifting upon the bed to soothe the growing ache in your wrists due to the tight ropes. “Well, Miggy, a wish or not, you ain't answer my question.” You emphasized, watching his defined jaw clench and his black, gloved hand enter into his pants pocket once more, fishing for his box of cigarettes.

Miguel's entire body was heating up, feeling like the room was closing in on him; it was taking all of his willpower to not do something that could jeopardize his duties. But with you using that nickname he's told you countless times not to address him by, it was causing his pants to become increasingly uncomfortable around his already swelling member.

The hunter's bushy eyebrows tightened, his mahogany cold eyes trained on you. “Outlaws and hunters ‘re like water and oil—we don't mix, it's why we're enemies for goodness sake.” He sternly said, lighting a match to ignite his sixth cigarette. He took a deep inhale of the tobacco, a sigh of contentment passing his lips. “And I've told ya, I don't experience such feelin’ for people, and definitely not ya.”

“But yet, ya do.”

His head instantly snapped over to you, finding your gaze already on him with a grin upon your cherry lips. “And ‘cause ya do, it's tearing ya up inside…

Ain't it, Miguel?”

A scowl crept upon the hunter's lips, his nose scrunching up in anger at your persistence.

‘What did she want? For me to spill my guts? To see me weak?!’

Miguel pondered, trying to discern your motive behind your pressing questions. He took another huge puff of his cigarette, trying to control himself.

“What game are you fuckin’ playin' at?” He growled, becoming tired of your jokes and giggles.

You laughed, giving him an innocent shoulder shrug, still bound tightly due to his handy skills. “I simply am askin’ questions like yer've allowed me to.” You said, raising an eyebrow from your laid position. “What? Have I struck a nerve?”

Miguel's eyes flashed red at your taunt, and before he could stop himself, he was standing up from his seat and walking over to you. “Don't play fuckin’ innocent with me, smartass” He snarled, his large hand encasing around your throat, effortlessly pulling you up onto your knees on the bed, bringing you face-to-face with him.

A small gasp passed your lips, his grip tight around your throat more in intimidation than harm. You glared back at him due to his sudden rough action, but upon seeing he was clearly holding on by a thread, you couldn't help but give him a flirtatious smile, one that caused his rage to deepen. “What do ya want from me? To see me lose control? To go against my damn duties?!” The hunter shouted, his face trembling in uncontrollable anger. “What ya find pleasure in that? Seeing me lose my shit?”

“Why, yes indeed... ”

Miguel's eyes widened in disbelief at your confirmation, his anger hastily bubbling back to the surface. “What the fuck did ya just say?” He said through gritted teeth, his cigarette hanging dangerously low from his lips, its ash dropping close to your face.

Your eyes roamed his facial features, taking in how furious he was, but you were certain his fury wasn't solely from you.

He was frustrated…

Sexually…

It was like you were a slab of meat to him and he was a starving dog. You were teasing him with your mere presence and honestly…you were enjoying it.

You could never understand why you secretly liked this hunter. Yes, he was the best of the best, and it was so fun to watch him blow his top, but it wasn't what truly led you to want to know everything about him—what kept you yearning for another encounter with him.

It wasn't until now that you finally discovered it…

His resilience to temptation was what you adored. How fascinating it'll be if he was to experience even a taste of what he craved.

It was why you allowed him a little bit of fun during your previous interaction; but even still, he was composed, never losing himself in the moment of you down on your knees for him, granting him the relief and satisfaction he so desperately was yearning for.

But you wanted him to forget your roles of hunter and outlaw and give in to his desires.

That's what you wanted from him, needed even.

You bit your lip, looking up at him from under your eyelashes. “Ya heard me, hunter. I want ya to give in to yer wants, and if that means losing control…

Then so be it...”

You smirked, watching his cold expression falter to one of surprise at your request. You grinned, never before seeing him so speechless. To entice him further, you leaned in close, your hands still bound tightly behind your back and his gloved one still around your throat, the smell of smoke and his natural musk filling your nose, only exciting you more.

“It'll be so good, Miggy to finally let go—to crave that hunger ya have for me.”

You coaxed in a low whisper, your western accent potent in your voice. Your eyes glanced down to his lips that were pulled into its usual scowl, unable to ignore how enticing they looked.

“You know I won’t stop you..."

Miguel groaned softly, his fingers flexing around your throat as his member twitched inside of his pants, begging him to give in to your words—to submit to his desires. The more you gazed up at him, saying all the right things in that sexy voice of yours…

He was tempted to give in…

“Do ya even know what ya askin’ of me?” He inquired, his eyes full of lust as he removed his cigarette from his lips. You nodded, wanting so much to touch him and persuade him. He was so close to submitting—you could feel it.

“Yes…I want ya, Miguel O’Hara. I’ve wanted ya for a long time.” You honestly said, biting your lip and looking him up and down. "Gosh, I’ve never wanted someone to fuck me so badly.”

“Mierda.” He muttered under his breath, his restraint snapping at your words of desperation as he crashed his lips to yours.

Miguel devoured your mouth in an intensity he’d never felt before. His hand tugging you closer to him by your throat to keep you pressed to him, feeling the softness of your body against his firm one was enough to make him lose it. His tongue penetrated your parted lips, finally tasting you after preventing himself for so long.

It was like he was finally tasting the forbidden elixir of the Wild West. Your sweet scent and lips enveloped him and lingered like the aftertaste of a smuggled bottle of top-shelf whiskey, each moment a clandestine sip that descended him more into the depths of no return.

You moaned softly into his mouth, his hunger being what you’ve wanted for so long. His dominance and lust grew with each interlock of your lips, and when he finally parted, you realized how breathless and aroused you were.

Miguel gazed down at you, breathing heavily while taking in your flushed cheeks and glazed eyes. Every time he saw you, you seemed to become even more breathtaking than before.

You looked back at him, panting and feeling a throbbing in your lower belly that longed to be satisfied. Now that you’ve gotten a taste of the bounty hunter, he was like a drug—his roughness and hunger turning you on more than anyone ever had in your entire life.

You wanted so much to touch him, to caress his sharp jawline decorated with a hint of stubble and feel how painfully hard his member was, but you were still, sadly, restrained—hands bound behind your back with your ankles tied together as well. Miguel ensured you wouldn’t be escaping him tonight upon entering your given room at the inn, but you wished for nothing more than to be released.

Currently, you had no desire to leave…

“Miguel…unbind me.” You requested a little desperately through ragged breaths, causing the hunter to chuckle. “Untie ya? That what ya want?” He inquired with a grin, bringing his cigarette to his lips to take another puff, exhaling the smoke. You nodded, wanting nothing more than to be free, so you could touch him in return.

The hunter saw the eagerness in your expression, bringing a smirk to his lips. He couldn’t help but feel satisfied at finally having power over you for once; it was honestly, a good feeling.

He held his cigarette between his lips, his gloved hand slipping into his pocket to pull out his steel pocket knife, effortlessly cutting through the thick rope that covered your wrists and ankles.

You sighed in relief at the sound of snips, along with subtle fibers separating, soon feeling yourself being freed. Usually, you’d instantly feel the desire to escape, to run for the heels with a huge grin upon your cherry lips at being able to outwit the hunter once more…

But not this time…

Your hands found his waist, caressing his taut skin through the fabric of his black collared top. “I knew ya could have fun.” You teased, bringing a rare smile to the hunter’s lips. He took your face in his hand, bringing you closer to him once more.

“Then saddle up, Muñeca. I’m just getting started.” He whispered, inhaling his cigarette once more before pressing his lips to yours, releasing the smoke into your mouth with each kiss.

The sharp, lingering bitterness of the smoke mingling with each exhale, accompanied by the combination of his sweet lips, created the perfect harmony. Each kiss left you breathless and lusting for him even more.

Miguel groaned softly, his thick gloved fingers moving from your neck to begin unbuttoning your dark blue and brown fringe top, revealing your gorgeous skin and assets that had been teasing him from the first time he’d encountered you.

Leaving your mouth, he trailed his lips along your throat, kissing the sensitive spots and not hesitating to push the dark blue top from your body, exposing your bare chest and stomach to him.

Your eyes fluttered at his kisses as you took the lit cigarette from his fingers, taking a drag and relishing in the serene tingles that filled your head along with Miguel’s kisses, sucks, and nibbles along your skin. You felt Miguel smirk at your action, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone before pulling away.

The sight of you gazing up at him, that playful smile on your lips as you smoked from his cigarette had to be the sexiest thing he’d ever seen—his cock throbbing in his pants to be released.

“Vas a ser la muerte de mí.” He muttered, his mahogany eyes dark with lust, as they trailed your body. His face of awe—enough to show how he was feeling.

You chuckled at his expression. “I’ll take it you like what you see?” You teased, bringing a toothy grin to the hunter’s lips. “I’ll be lyin’ if I said I didn't.” He chuckled, his large gloved hands cupping your perky breasts in his massive palms—the pair feeling like soft pillows in his hands.

He savored the soft moans that escaped your pretty mouth, capturing each whimper with a peck to your lips, unable to resist how addicting it was to kiss you.

You were aware that the hunter had experience, but it felt like he knew your body like the back of his hand. His massive palms kneaded your supple flesh, switching between soft and rough squeezes, while his fingers flicked and pinched your hardened pebbles.

In your fingers, you held your shared cigarette, eyes half-hooded. With every maneuver of his hands along your chest, your juices spilled down your thighs. “Ya like that?” He asked with a smirk, gripping your breasts tightly, making you cry out. “Mhm, Yes! Just like that,” you gasped, chest heaving with the growing pleasure.

Miguel growled at your words of satisfaction, feeling the need to be released from his clothes—his cock painfully hard inside his pants. “I have something better for ya,” he said, pulling away to remove his black wide-brimmed hat, tossing it across the room, and tugging his shirt over his head.

You bit your lip, your core pulsating at the mere sight of his defined chest. His chiseled pecs, bulging biceps, and toned abs were covered with dark brown hair, each muscle completely taut from his years of being a bounty hunter. Along his torso were faint scars and beauty marks that only emphasized his attractiveness. “Not bad, hunter,” you laughed, giving his body a once-over. Your gaze followed the happy trail of coarse hair that descended from his navel to dip under his pants towards the massive bulge that was begging to be freed from its confines. At the sight, memories of your previous encounter with him filled your mind, causing your juices to further coat your thighs and drip down your legs.

Miguel smiled, savoring the way you were looking him up and down, appreciating his body. He couldn’t remember the last time he had experienced this, but it felt good to be admired, especially by you. He noticed your eyes focused on his crotch, prompting a chuckle from him. “Don’t be scared, ya seen it before,” he said tauntingly, making you roll your eyes but unable to hide your small grin.

You crawled towards him, placing the cigarette into your mouth and beginning to unbuckle his belt, maintaining eye contact. “I must say, hunter, I’ve missed this,” you snickered, pulling his pants down to release what you’ve desired since your previous encounter.

The sight still left you speechless…

His fully erect, tanned member was presented in front of you, slightly darker than the olive skin tone of his body. A bush of dark brown coarse hair sat atop his veiny shaft, his tip a Tuscan red, with a protruding vein running along the underside that led to a pair of large, heavy balls. The hunter was definitely above average, being very girthy and long as well. You bit your lip, feeling your arousal soaking through your pants, sullying the dark blue fabric.

Miguel completely adored that look of awe upon your sexy face, leaning down to kiss along your neck while lifting you slightly to lay you down upon the bed.

His teeth and lips sucked marks along your skin that you gladly accepted whilst his heavy shaft rested against your stomach, causing your belly to flutter, and a whimper to escape your lips. “Gosh, I-I can’t wait any more,” you whined, wanting to feel him inside of you, the throbbing of your empty core becoming painful.

Your desperation was music to Miguel’s ears, his body needing you as well. “Then, let’s not wait 'round no more, Cariño.” He effortlessly whipped you around to lay you on all fours upon the bed—your forearms and knees holding your body up as your clothed rear end was thrust into the air, left completely vulnerable to him.

Miguel took in your gorgeous backside, an evident trail of your arousal sprouting down your pants like the trails of a passing storm, nature’s delicate brushstrokes down the dark blue fabric that covered your bottom, the sight making his cock twitch.

He licked his lips, reaching over to remove the lit cigarette from your cherry lips to place it in his, inhaling it as he ran his large hand along your clothed bottom. Your eyes fluttered, the sensations seeming to be heightened due to your inability to see him. The hunter groaned, giving your cheeks a rough squeeze, releasing a moan from your throat.

Fuck, ya perfect,” he whispered, feeling his gloved fingers roam along your clothed, drenched folds, adding slight pressure that caused you to further soil your pants—your essence soaking the fabric even more, and revealing the evident outline of your soppy pussy underneath. Miguel groaned, roaming his hands to squeeze your bare hips and caress your rear, soon returning back to where you wanted him the most.

You whimpered softly, savoring how good he was making you feel until the loud sound of a rip filled the room, causing your eyes to snap open.

A rush of air suddenly made contact with your rear end and throbbing pussy as you looked over your shoulder to see that Miguel had ripped your pants open—granting him a clear view of your heavily dripping core.

You were conflicted, not knowing whether to be angry or even more aroused; however, you weren’t able to respond as the hunter didn’t hesitate to grind his massive length along your dripping folds—the wet sound filling the walls. “O-oh fuck,” you moaned, arching your back and moving in sync with him.

Miguel couldn’t get over how wet you were, his thick cock gliding through your folds, testing your saturation. “Hmm…ready?” he asked in a small growl.

You were only able to muster a broken, "Mhm," in response before feeling his massive tip begin to seep inside of your soaking entrance.

A drawn-out moan passed both of your lips, his gloved hand clenching the remnants of your pants that enclosed around your waist, holding you during his insertion. Once he bottomed-out, it took everything in him to not lose himself in how much your pussy was gripping him, the urge to thrust into you with total abandon being very enticing.

Your fingers gripped the beige blankets tightly, eyes rolled into your skull at how much he was blissfully stretching you. It instantly made your mind go blank.

The pleasure only heightened with his slow slide out and breathtaking slam of his cock back in, releasing a loud mewl to erupt from your throat. With each drag of his member inside your dripping entrance, his force and speed increased until he was brutally fucking you like a rabid animal.

Miguel couldn’t help himself; he tried so hard to take it slow, to not harm you like he feared this whole time, but you were too perfect, he swore you were.

You took him so well, too well, that he became lost in the pleasure. Your exquisite pussy gripped his cock just right with each thrust, his hips smacking loudly against your rear.

The room was filled with the echoing of slapping wet flesh, high-pitched moans, deep grunts, and the loud creaking of the bed.

The scent of sex and smoke was potent as Miguel occasionally took puffs of his cigarette. You didn’t even notice the pleasurable and painful tears streaming down your face at the sheer intensity of his pace—switching constantly from erratic and rough to slow and deep.

The ashes from his cigarette occasionally dropped onto your lower back, burning your skin and sending a sting throughout your entire body. The pain only deepening the extreme sensations coursing through your being. Your brain was scrambled, your body trembling, and already releasing for the second time under his influence.

Miguel groaned, brushing your hair from your shoulder to nuzzle into your neck, inhaling your sweet, natural scent, his pace never ceasing. “Fuck, bebé, you feel so good. Mierda.” He moaned into your ear, his cigarette hanging from his lips, as his praises caused the familiar knots to form in your stomach again.

It seemed Miguel had found the weakness to your witty tongue. With his pace, you couldn’t form a word—whimpers, whines, shrieks, and the occasional cries of his name were the only sounds you could muster.

With any other man, you would have felt pathetic, but with him, you’ve never felt so alive.

With a gasp, Miguel pulled out, flipping you to lie on your back. Your dazed eyes blinked, trying to settle your blurry vision on him.

The hunter gazed down at you, your rosy tear-stained cheeks, messy hair, hickey-filled neck, dripping pussy only arousing him once more. He inhaled the rest of his cigarette, pinching the end to snuff the flame before kissing you, his cock entering your eager hole once more.

You moaned into his mouth, the smoky taste, and his lips only intensifying the burning tension in the pit of your stomach. His thrusts were slow and deep while his mouth ravaged yours, exchanging the smoke of his cigarette with you with each interlock of your lips.

Miguel was feeling himself getting terribly close, his balls becoming painfully tight, every clench of your pussy leaving him twitching; but he needed another orgasm from you.

He groaned into your mouth, your kiss becoming more messy. Saliva dripped from your chins whilst your tongues entwined with each hungry mesh of your lips.

With each kiss, Miguel slowly increased his pace—his coarse hair grinding into your swollen clit, heavy balls smacking into your rear along with his gloved hands gripping your hips, angling himself as he pulled you against him in a frenzy.

Your eyes rolled, moans constantly becoming stuck in your throat with each of his deep thrusts. His member constantly attacked your G-spot, causing you to become a moaning, trembling mess underneath him.

Abruptly, your orgasm crashed into you like a stampede. You cried out Miguel’s name through your climax, spraying your juices in thick spurts, haphazardly, into the air, coating your stomach, thighs, and Miguel’s abs and cock with your essence. The loud sounds of dripping and squelching filled the room upon your orgasm.

At your release, your pussy clutched Miguel’s cock tightly, a blissful rush of tingles coming over him. His thrusts became sporadic and inept following you in your climax.

He hastily pulled out, shooting his creamy, white load upon your stomach with a guttural groan, the veins upon his lower belly and thighs pulsated, his mahogany eyes closed whilst breathless grunts passed his parted lips with each release of his essence.

Your eyes fluttered at the warm sensation as you tried to catch your breath and regain your thoughts and strength after the intense moment, but it was no use…

Miguel had fucked you senselessly.

But it was so worth it.

You’ve gotten what you wanted—the hunter to give in to his desires, to grant you the fucking of a lifetime, and he’d done so and even more.

Miguel climbed on next to you, the bed creaking under his heavy weight as he laid down beside you. His burly arms wrapped around your frail body, pulling you gently to his chest. He found your pants and small tremors utterly adorable as he kissed your bare shoulder. You blinked back the dizziness from your previous encounter, glancing over your shoulder at the hunter to find something you couldn’t believe…

You found love in his eyes…

“You okay?” He asked in his usual gruff voice, stroking his thumb across your rosy, tear-stained cheeks, his mahogany eyes roaming your face with a trace of concern. You scoffed at his expression. “Of course.” You chuckled, noticing that he wasn’t at all breathless and tired as you were—simply lying upon the bed like the two of you weren’t just fucking like two animals in heat.

“Did ya enjoy yourself?” You inquired, turning to face him, but with some struggle—your body already feeling sore. He placed a hand on your hip, caressing you with a smile. “Of course, what was not to love?” He genuinely said, making you raise an eyebrow at the flattery. “Oh really now, is the infamous bounty hunter complimenting me?” You asked teasingly, finding his damp coffee-brown curls clinging to his sweaty forehead rather cute.

At your playful remark, hus grin broadened on his tanned face. “You can keep a secret, can’t ya, sweetheart?” He smirked, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Miguel never felt his heart swell so much. He didn’t know what he was feeling, but he didn’t want it to ever stop.

You laughed, gazing up at him. “Of course…At a price.” Miguel snickered, anticipating the response, but it still piqued the hunter’s interest. “And what’s that, miel?”

“Don’t turn me in.”

At your words, meant as a joke, Miguel’s heartfelt smile instantly dropped, bringing him back to the reality of the West.

You were an outlaw…

He was a bounty hunter…

Bounty hunters and outlaws didn’t mix…

He’s supposed to take you in…

“Mierda.” He sighed, every happy emotion he felt draining from his face to be replaced with his usual cold expression of a scowl and dead mahogany eyes.

“Miggy?” You called out to him, your eyebrows furrowed. “Are ya okay?” You inquired, your turn now to ask about his well-being, but it was met with silence.

Miguel had never felt more disheartened and conflicted. He adored his job as a bounty hunter, the thrill of the hunt and the ability to use his exceptional skills to track down any criminal for a hefty amount of gold and cash, but you made him question everything…

It’ll be hypocritical of him to chase down outlaws like a damn dog, arrest them or either kill them depending on their crimes, and do neither to you.

You were a criminal, you’ve robbed and stole from many, and have taken a few heads with you along the way.

But fuck…

He couldn’t bring himself to hurt you or arrest you.

So he’d returned back to the question once more.

What should be done with you…?

He turned over to look at you, taking in your troubled eyes that gazed back at him. His hardened expression softened at your face that showed genuine interest in him in return.

Or were you playing him once more…

The hunter reached out, cupping your cheek in his large gloved one, the action instantly making your heart warm. You leaned into his palm, eyes trained on him. “Ya thinkin’ again. Ain’t ya?” You asked, heaving a sigh.

Miguel stroked your face with his thumb, relishing in how soft your skin was. “How can I not? This is goin’ against everythang I stand for.” He uttered, but unable to pull his hand away, and neither did you wish him to.

Even though you were used to the seduction of many men—only sleeping with most of them for survival or for a means to escape, but now…

You desired the hunter, despite him being your enemy.

He’d killed and arrested many people like you— did it without a blink of an eye, but instead of feeling fearful of that, it oddly, only made you want him more.

You placed a hand on his chest, delicately tracing patterns along the curves of his chiseled and ruggedly hairy pecs, a comforting silence enveloping both of you. Miguel’s deep sigh of contentment escaped his lips as his large hand moved from your face to tenderly stroke your lower back, pulling you closer to him.

“Yer never answered my question.” Your western accent filled the room once more, looking up at him. Miguel's bushy eyebrows furrowed, his mind a little foggy due to your mere closeness and touch. “What question?” He asked, glancing down at you, his confusion making you giggle. “Gosh, how did I remember and not ya?” You playfully teased, believing he’d previously scrambled your brain to no return, instead, it seemed you’ve done so to the hunter.

The corners of his tightly drawn lips twitched to a smirk. “I was just…lost in the moment.” Miguel replied. “But what’s the question I didn’t answer?”

“If ya fancy me or not.” You stated, the hunter’s heart jumping at the reappearance of the question. He grunted, his burly arm enclosing around your waist possessively, pressing his firm body against your soft, supple one. “I shouldn’t...” He whispered with a heavy sigh, feeling with each passing second, he was doing what he’d told himself he’d never do.

Love…

Feel…

“But ya do.” You retorted once more, cupping his face. “So whatcha gonna do ‘bout it?” You asked playfully with a grin.

That smile—that smile was everything to the hunter and always made his heart flutter and his stomach to stir. “That’s what I’m debatin’ in my head, Cariño.” The Latino sighed. “For the first time, in a long time, I don’t know what the hell to do.” A troubled expression crossed the hunter’s face, making you feel sorry for him—you’ve never seen him so conflicted.

"What's yer head sayin'?" You asked, already knowing the answer. "To take yer fine ass in," he replied in a gruff voice, tightening his grip around you, as if he never could let you go.

You hummed, feeling him rest his chin upon your head, another sigh passing his lips. "And how 'bout this?" You asked next, placing a hand over his right pec, where his heart resided.

"What's that cold heart of yer's tellin’ ya?"

Miguel's mahogany eyes snapped down at you, your inquiries seeming to punch him in the gut each time. He kept your gaze, staring into your intrigued orbs.

The hunter wet his lips before cupping your chin between his gloved fingers, leaning close to you, his breath mingling with yours. His eyes roamed your face before allowing his heart to speak the words he'd been holding in for so long.

"To make ya mine."

Miguel said, his mahogany eyes never leaving yours. "I wanna take care of ya, not allow ya to have to steal another coin in yer entire life," the hunter uttered, his fingers caressing your chin and jaw. "I wanna protect ya, love ya, ride alongside ya in the desert—not as enemies with an intent to capture ya…,

But as lovers…"

You stared back at the infamous and cold bounty hunter, not quite believing the confession pouring from his lips.

In all your life of being an outlaw and criminal, you've had moments where you've tangled in the sheets with a few individuals, them speaking similar things as the hunter did, but you never felt the same. Simply flashing them a grin, and upon them falling asleep, hastily finding the nearest exit and riding off into the sunset. However, right now...

You didn't want to run.

"Ya sure?" You asked with a smirk. "I'm quite the handful." You said, tucking a curl of his damp coffee brown hair behind his ear. Your words caused a deep rumble of laughter to erupt from the hunter, one that surprised him. His mahogany eyes that usually held death and coldness in them, now were full of love and affection.

"I reckon I've always been fond of a good challenge." The hunter said, pressing his lips to the top of your head, his kisses always bringing a wave of warmth to spread throughout your body. "I figured as much." You giggled, meeting his loving gaze. "But let me let ya in on a 'lil secret." You grinned, beckoning him closer with a finger. Miguel raised an eyebrow, a small smile upon his lips as he leaned in, awaiting your next words.

"I've always had a soft spot for ya, hunter."

You said in a low whisper, the Latino swiftly pulling away in shock, meeting your eyes to find any sign of deceit, but either you were playing him again, or you were genuine. Either way, his heart swelled at your confession.

"So…whatcha tryin' to do, vaquera?" He asked, his duties, reputation, or him being a hypocrite vanishing to the back of his head. Your confession tugged at him more than he'd expected. It was something he'd always secretly wanted, needed even—for his oppressed affections and missed arrests to not have been for nothing.

That after all this time of exchanging bullets and cutthroat words, you actually felt the same…

The hunter still couldn't wrap his head around the fact you fancied him in return, but he was certain he was willing to do anything for you in this moment.

You flashed him a grin, knowing his duties as a bounty hunter were tied to his very soul, unable to separate from him as your troublesome nature was with yours. "Then how 'bout we try this whole… secret lovers thing, eh?" You proposed, caressing the side of his thick neck and along his broad shoulder.

Miguel hummed at your touch, deep down liking the idea very much. He wanted nothing more than to experience moments with you that didn't end with guns being drawn. "I'll be willin' to give it a go." The hunter replied, not knowing how much his agreement made your heart soar.

You hastily pressed your lips to his, capturing him in a passionate kiss. Miguel smiled, kissing you back with much fervor and pulling you on top of him. His hands caressed your soft flesh while you straddled his hips. Your kiss swiftly became more heated and intense as a small groan escaped the hunter's lips, soon feeling something hard brushing against your thigh.

You parted from him with a laugh, glancing down to find he was heavily aroused once more before meeting his eyes. "Ya want me again, hunter?" You asked in a sultry voice, causing a huge grin to spread across his lips, a sight still so foreign from his usual deep scowl.

"Always…"

He uttered, cupping the back of your neck and pulling you into a long searing kiss. Your evident adoration for each other felt in each deep interlock of your lips.

And in that moment, the hunter knew he loved you, as you knew you loved him in return…

“Ya sure it’s him?”

The rough western accent of a woman uttered through the quiet of the night, the breeze brushing along her ebony skin and running through her thick, black curls.

“Absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt,” the older male replied. “Yeah, he was lookin’ real close with that outlaw back at the saloon, a lil’ too close if ya know what I mean,” the other added, causing a growl to escape the woman’s crimson lips.

“What the fuck are you doin’ Miguel?”

She hissed under her breath, her gloved thumb spinning the caliber of her pistol in thought.

“So…Jessica…what’s the plan?

We gettin’ rid of him?”

“Nay…” Jessica Owens replied, whipping around to look at the two gunslingers. Her cold amber eyes bore into them through her black eyeglasses, and the two straightened up under their leader's harsh gaze.

“I wanna see this for myself…”

A/N: Thanks so much for reading!! I know I've already mentioned it, but gosh, I enjoyed writing this, and to confirm, yes, there will be a part 2. 🧡🐴

Honestly, along with my other stories, Entangled Desires (The kink series), and requests, there is a lot that I'll like to get done, so please be patient with me lol. 😅 Once again, thank you so much, bestie, @amariiyagurl for the idea. Love you so much girlie!! 🫶🏾🫶🏾

Make sure to like, comment, reblog, and follow! If you'd like to add a request to the kink series, Entangled Desire, or have an idea in general, just message me or submit an ask. I hope you all have a wonderful day and stay safe! 🤎🧡

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imissylou · 4 months ago

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Hello, I'm Missy! I've created many challenges in the past, and I'm best known for the Herbs and Spices Legacy, which I co-created with my friend @sunboyish. If you know me, you know how much I love butterflies—I even have multiple tattoos of them! I searched everywhere on Tumblr but couldn't find the original butterfly legacy challenge. If you happen to find it, please tag me so I can give proper credit.

Since I couldn't find the original, I created my own version, and I hope it's refreshingly different for you. I get bored of legacy challenges easily (it's not you, it's me), so I designed each generation to stand out with unique traits and stories. Feel free to skip or modify any parts that don't suit your play style. This challenge includes elements from all the packs (except the Star Wars pack, ew). If it becomes popular, I'll make a base game version or add base game options.

You're welcome to add to this challenge or create graphics for it—just tag me! Without further ado, here are the RULES! [TW: Neglect, Abuse, Substance Use, Murder, Religion, PTSD, Abortion]

Rules and first Generation under the cut!

Click here for the Doc

Butterfly Effect: A Legacy Challenge

Rules

Start out with 0 simoleons or enough to make a starter home then take the money away

Each gen only takes 20% of the funds your last generation accumulated

I love mods, so go ahead and get every mod out there, but just don't make the challenge too easy, trust me it gets boring if its easy

All CC is allowed

You don't have to level up any skills to level 10, they're just there so you have an idea on what you're going to do that generation - mostly from the career you're doing

Must complete each goal before moving on to the next generation, optional goals are optional

You don't have to complete any aspiration, unless it says

Life span can be on any, it's up to you

Make sure you look ahead each gen there may be overlap

You don't have to make this a berry challenge, but i did put a colour pallet if you want to use it

I haven't played through it yet so feel free to comment any suggestions or email me at [email protected]

Please tag me in all posts that are about my legacy - I’m nosey and want to see your lets plays or sim making, if you use insta you can find me @ imissylou5

If you play this challenge please use the #butterflyeffectlegacy or #BEL

Have Fun, this is your game after all!

Let's kick off this legacy with the epitome of elegance and grandeur—the Monarch! As the trendsetter of the family, your fashion sense is unparalleled, radiating style and sophistication in every outfit. Your iconic looks make you unforgettable, setting a high bar for all generations to come. Along with your keen fashion sense, you have an insatiable curiosity and just can't resist getting involved in everyone's business. You may be the first, but you’re destined to be remembered as the most glamorous, stylish, and intriguingly nosy generation. Get ready to strut your stuff, gather all the gossip, and set the runway on fire!

Your Colours - Orange and Black

Traits - Self Absorbed, Perfectionist, Nosy

Aspiration - World-Famous Celebrity

Skills - Writing, Charisma, Photography, and Painting

Career - Style Influencer - Trend Setter Branch

Start as a Young Adult

Date Multiple People - You're Polyamorous!

Become Pregnant as an Adult, but you don't know who the Baby belongs too

Woohoo every partner you have the night you want to be pregnant, so you don't know the other parent

Do this every time you want to be pregnant

All your kids look like you dressed them up (which you do, no kid of yours will be trashy)

Have at least 2 outfits in each category

Go thrifting every weekend to collect all the thrifting clothing items

Get the squeamish trait if it pops up!

Have the Hungry for Love and People Person Lifestyles - Try to keep them throughout your whole life

Everytime you talk to someone, gossip with them

Optional

Travel every time you're stressed - Monarchs travel approximately 4,000 kilometres

@ts4challengehub

#the sims 4 #simblr #sims #gaming #sims 4 #sims 4 challenge #ts4 legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #BEL #Butterfly effect legacy #butterfly legacy #butterfly #ts4 #ts4 simblr #ts4 gameplay

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waitmyturtles · 2 months ago

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Hot Take: Be On Cloud and Sammon out GMMTV-ed GMMTV with that lame-ass 4 Minutes finale

(TW: Ummm, this ended up being a rant, so don't read this if you enjoyed that finale.)

WOW.

This is not the central thesis of this post at all, but I need to get this off my chest, FIRST OF AWL: GET AN ORIGINAL OST. WOW.

LIKE, ACTUALLY, I want to not get into this, but I actually need to talk about this for a second. ICONIC OSTs like, SAY, "Why Don't You Stay" or "Just Friend" (OR THE DARK BLUE KISS THEME SONG, THE BEST ONE) are meant to invoke THE SHOW FROM WHICH THAT SONG HAILS, AND THE FEELINGS THAT THAT PARTICULAR SHOW MADE ONE FEEL. WHAT THE FUCK WAS 4 MINUTES THINKING?! THIS SHOW WAS NOT KINNPORSCHE. NOT AT ALL. I FELT NO KP FROM 4 MINUTES. I hope Jeff Satur sues BOC for copyright infringement. ANYWAY.

I mean, this is gonna be messy, but in yet another case of shippy roooooomance, a kind of rooooomance that's supposed to leave us feeling like the central couple is worth redeeming against both the obstacles that the story gives them, AND/OR a weak script as well (I wrote about this recently during a rewatch of The Eclipse), I mean, BOC and Sammon just threw an otherwise really amazing storyline to the dogs.

We were supposed to get a lot of moral and ethical loops closed here. I would have been okay with a Ton Kla redemption! I would have been okay with Korn living the rest of his life in pain and suffering for neglecting Ton Kla! Instead, they're both "redeemed" by their own deaths?! I get Win being upset, but Win, you knew who you were sleeping with! Come awn!

AND. I'm supposed to believe that Great is worth redemption because he threw a corrupt government minister under the bus and prevented his parents from coming back to Thailand, while we see him walking away from a woman having a heart attack???? Like, THAT'S NOT GOOD!!!! He's had a messy life, but he's not necessarily a good person, folks!!! HELLO!!! "He's a good person?!" TYME?? Like, Great's hot, BUT LIKE, DON'T BE LIKE THAT, TYME, GURL, ACTUALLY LOOK THRU AT WHO YOU'RE DATING.

ALSO, TYME, HIPPOCRATIC OATH, DUDE. I KNOW YOU WANT THAT GUY DEAD, AND HE DESERVES BAD THINGS, BUT YOU CAN'T MAIM HIM PURPOSELY, HOMEY, YOU'RE ABOUT TO BECOME A PROFESSOR.

And LIKE, WHAT THE FUCK, putting a whole new story point about Warit's kidnapping from some dude named Wanchai who we don't even know, and finding out that Warit is a general?!?! It was JUST CONFUSING.

Also, Den dating a patient. I know medical ethics are probably different in Thailand, but they cannot be THAT DIFFERENT, friends, they can't (right? right?).

And. Finally. TYME GOT SHOT MULTIPLE TIMES IN THE CHEST AREA. He survived after two months of recovery?! HE SURVIVED POINT-BLANK SHOOTING?!?!?!??!?!?! AND GREAT SURVIVED HIS POINT-BLANK SHOOTING, TOO?!?!?!?!

LISTEN. LISTEN. I get that BOC wants GreatTyme together. JesBible are a good pair. It's fine Great and Tyme are together. It's nice.

But there was an ACTUAL storyline, told WONDERFULLY for seven episodes, that had these characters in moral and ethical chokeholds that could have received different and very much more appropriate endings. This is fiction, of course, but the moral and ethical prisons these characters were in were very real-to-life by way of what humans value, and how you balance those values against the real-time decisions that humans need to make for themselves and their families.

Instead, BOC took the wild GMMTV playbook of late (The Eclipse, 23.5, Only Friends, Wandee Goodday, even Last Twilight and My Precious) and just railroaded ethical explorations for, my GAWD, guitars and boats. GUITARS AND BOATS! If either Great or Tyme had died, how would the story have expressed regret, uncommunicated feelings, unsolved mysteries?

The ending sucked the mystery out of this series, and frankly, made light of the fact that we were not in a Series Y for seven-eighths of a runtime, only to truly suck us back into Y territory -- real, sugary, cheesy Y territory, GUITARS, THE KP OST OMG -- that just clashed with the tonality of what was shaping up to be a great queer crime murder mystery show. GMMTV already does this. BOC did not need to go there.

Funny that some of us are watching Kidnap now, and commenting (I'm stealing @shortpplfedup's words here) that Kidnap is not a crime BL, but a crime BL. Kidnap knows what it is: it is shaping up to be a fun, unserious Y series that's centered around two himbos not really understanding the consequences of their decisions, and being googly while doing it. It seems to be taking its unseriousness seriously. Good on GMMTV for taking initiative there.

4 Minutes? 4 Minutes needs moral closure, not sappy romance. I could have used a hint that we were gonna get punked earlier. I wouldn't have taken this show as seriously as I did if I had known otherwise.

#4 minutes #4 minutes the series #jesbible #jes jespipat #bible wichapas #greattyme #great x tyme #tyme x great #WOW

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miles-wrightworth · 1 month ago

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Miles and Phoenix headcanon dump

TW for self harm, abuse, disordered eating, trauma, sui attempts, scars, ableism and homophobia mentioned once

put some of your fav headcanons about them in the replies/reblogs and tell me your fav of mine!

these guys are not okay. headcanons below (not all angsty I swear)

Miles

Full Name: Miles Gregory Edgeworth

Gender: demiboy/boyflux, he/they

Appearance hcs:

Really pretty eyes

he has many scars on his shoulder from an incident with MvK

he has some scars from a suicide attempt around his neck (ropeburn)

He has self harm scars on his forearms and thighs. Lots of them

He has scars on each of his wrists from his 1yg suicide attempt

He is VERY pasty. Like he's WHITE ASF.

General hcs:

Has an eating disorder (anorexia-bulimia) because of MvK’s constant harsh criticism of his appearance

Struggles with self-harm (cuts on forearms and thighs)

Has tried to kill himself multiple times

When he left the ‘choosing death’ note, he meant it. He has the scars on his wrists to prove it

Trans. He hid it from MvK and has pretty much been stealth his whole life. He never goes on T, just does voice training and gets top surgery when he ‘chooses death’ in germany. He has to recover alone. (or with Void vk)

Gay. women love him, he doesn't understand wtf they're trying to do

Autistic. He doesn't understand a lot of jokes and social cues. He gets overstimulated sometimes. He has a happy stim where he doesn't flap his whole hand, just his fingers. He has a nervous stim where he grabs something or tightens his hand into a fist and squeezes. He has bled a few times from his fingernails digging into his palms from this.

Has some internalized homophobia and ableism due to MvK >:(

Fav musical is Phantom of the Opera

He uses Earl Grey and lavender scented cleaning products and has an extensive hair care routine.

On that note, his hair is soft asf and Phoenix loves to pet it

Miles is an lgbtq+ icon in Japanifornia. He's a prominent political figure who is openly gay (stealth trans for a while) and he advocates for lgbtq+ rights

He is English and Japanese

He knows English, Japanese, German, French, and Borginian (after aai). He knows at least a little bit of every European language

Plays violin, flute, cello, piano

He is starved for affection (both physical and otherwise)

He hates being touched unless he completely trusts the person touching him

Hates hospitals because of DL6 when he woke up in a hospital (and because of a few sui attempts)

Is a huge cat person, but owns Pess because she’s trained to help him with panic attacks

Favorite food is German cheesecake, likes sweets a lot

Wears gay little garter socks, sleeps in silk pjs

Character development questions:

What does his bedroom look like?

Fancy queen bed with a canopy thing. Burgundy and pink bedspread with plushies secretly stashed in the closet. Has a desk with a whiteboard in front of it. Uses the whiteboard for case notes like those connection boards in police departments. Has a clean mahogany desk with a fountain pen, laptop, tasteful lamp, and legal pad on it. Post-it notes EVERYWHERE.

Any daily rituals?

Has tea at 4pm every day without fail. Gets upset if he is interrupted. Tells Phoenix how his day went every day when asked. Tends to work overtime.

Cleanliness habits?

Very clean. Has a maid when he lives alone and has Gumshoe clean his office biweekly. Once he moves in with Phoenix and Trucy, he ends up cleaning the house frequently.

Eating habits/daily menu?

Tends to skip meals, both accidentally and sometimes purposefully. Has lunch with Phoenix whenever possible. Has tea frequently. Earl gray. Likes sweets and has butterscotch on his desk and in his bag. He eats it occasionally.

Fav way to waste time?

Watching Steel Samurai, writing poetry and fanfiction, listening to music

Book genre?

Psychological horror, the DSM5, gay romance, likes stories set in Victorian era and psychology related books

Long term goal?

Use his influence to make the law as effective as possible and get justice for victims of crimes by punishing criminals

Fav beverage?

Tea. hands down. He also loves virgin strawberry daiquiris

Coping strategies?

Self-harm (before he tries to recover). Once he marries Phoenix, he becomes comfortable going to him for help. He listens to music and watches Steel Samurai to distract himself. Has his blue cat plush that he uses to self-soothe.

Pet peeves?

Liars, slow drivers, slow walkers, has an unnatural and extreme burning hatred for child abusers/bad parents, incompetent people.

What is in his pockets?

Ornate Swiss pocket knife, fountain pen, mini packet of wet wipes, monogrammed handkerchief.

Phoenix

Full name: Phoenix Ryuichi Wright

Gender: genderqueer, he/him

Appearance hcs:

Heterochromiaaaaa! Right eye is brown, left eye is blue

Big puppy eyes

He's pretty tan due to his partial latino heritage

He has a scar on his lip, scars on his hands, and many scars in his mouth from the glass necklace shards

He has a scar on his cheek and hand (very deep scars) from a squabble with Kris

He has large burn scars on his side (where his kidney would be ig) from MvK’s taser

He has many scars from falling off of Dusky Bridge. Some are cuts and some are burns

He’s a chubby guy naturally. He is pretty self-conscious about it and about the fact that it makes him look more feminine.

General hcs:

Adhd. he chews his pen and bobs his leg as stims.

He has really bad abandonment issues due to his mother leaving as well as Dahlia’s betrayal and Miles’ leaving him twice

when he was around 11 his mom just dropped him at a foster center or smth and left (because she was struggling with addictions and didn't want her child to grow up in that environment and she was a single mother so she had nobody to take care of Phoenix) Phoenix grew up as a stealth transmasc in foster homes without any permanent family until he was out of the foster system at 18 and lived in a dorm

Trans. has had top surgery since he was 20. Started T at the age of 21 and got bottom surgery while studying to take the bar at 23. Mia helped him through recovering from both surgeries and she was very supportive.

His hair is naturally spiky but he gels it to make it EVEN MORE SPIKY

During 7yg he becomes an alcoholic (partially due to Kristoph’s influence)

His alcoholism reminds him of his mother so he feels horrible about it and tries his hardest to keep it from Trucy

He has trauma from Dahlia and Kris. sometimes he can't take meds or eat certain foods because it reminds him of past trauma

Phoenix downplays his trauma or feels like it's his fault for trusting Kris/Dahlia cuz he's surrounded by people who have "worse" trauma and he's like 'oh well my parent didn't get murdered in front of me. my trauma is nothing compared to Athena or Miles' he never wants to talk about his own trauma because he feels like its invalid so he just never tells anyone and pretends its fine

He is latino and Japanese mainly (perhaps also greek teehee)

He knows English, Spanish (not as well and EG tho), and a little bit of Japanese

Can actually play piano

Love languages are touch and words of affirmation

After 7yg, he is really paranoid for a solid year or so due to Kristoph

He hates hospitals because he had to be hospitalized after Dahlia’s trial for about a month for healing his throat and stomach as well as for psychological evaluations

Wears random socks, half of the time colorful. Sleeps in boxers and a t shirt

Uses Axe body spray when 14-33, uses coconut old spice once he gets his badge back

Character development questions:

What does his bedroom look like?

Pretty messy. Clothes everywhere, a few plushies, a desk in the corner with a corkboard in front of it. He puts random files, pictures, notes, etc. on it and has some on parts of his wall. Nothing fancy. Just below a queen size bed with two pillows and a blue blanket.

Any daily rituals?

After 7yg, he checks if the door is locked twice when he comes in the house or leaves. Always says hi and bye to Trucy as well. Always asks Trucy and Miles how their days were over dinner.

Cleanliness habits?

He sometimes gets bursts of energy to clean. Usually tries to clean up right after he gets something messy, but forgets a lot and doesn’t clean up his dirty clothes very often. Just below average hygiene and cleanliness.

Eating habits/daily menu?

Doesn’t like to eat crunchy stuff much, but makes an exception for always getting crunchy shell tacos. He usually has an average breakfast (bagel, cereal, bacon). Meets up with Miles to have lunch whenever possible (partially to make sure Miles eats). They usually go to a casual restaurant, eat lunch for an hour or so, and then get back to their jobs. Miles, Phoenix, and Trucy all take turns making/helping to make dinner. They eat out about once a week. Sometimes to celebrate winning a case.

Fav way to waste time?

He likes drawing, annoying Miles, sleeping, and watching those dramatic stupid shows like Dance Moms and The Bachelorette.

Book genre?

He doesn’t like to read. Doesn’t have the attention span for it. But he loves comics and manga. Particularly enjoys medieval setting fictional adventure stories that have a happy ending. Occasionally reads cheesy romance novels to laugh at it.

Long term goal?

His goal in life is to be needed and remembered. He wants to help others and be remembered as a light in their lives. He wants to make a significant positive impact on the lives of the people around him.

Fav beverage?

He likes sweet tea, cream soda, and plain ol’ water the best

Coping strategies?

He tends to ramble and vent to the people he’s close to (Maya, Miles, Larry sometimes) but also tries to push them away somewhat and neglects talking to them as much as he needs to because he’s afraid he’s being annoying or clingy. He ends up pretending it’s fine even though it’s not.

Pet peeves?

People judging others, bullying, people being inconsiderate or ignorant of the needs of others, liars.

What is in his pockets?

Random trash, gum, phone, wired earbuds from a gas station, probably some random 30 cent pen.

#ace attorney #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #narumitsu #wrightworth #headcanon #writing #I guess it counts #tw self destruction #tw self h4rm #tw sui attempt #tw ed descussion #tw eating issues #tw abuse #tw ableism #its only mentioned once

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konigsblog · 1 year ago

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dilf dad bod König with long hair

just the perfect man especially if he has tattoos and piercings and ungodly collection of Legos and motorbikes

dilf dadbod musky long haired metalhead könig (what a beautiful name 🩷, but i'll shorten it to d!db!könig)

tw: mentions of weed use

d!db!könig most definitely has nipple piercings and a few metal barrells on his shaft, as well as his iconic prince albert piercing that he loves to tease you with when he's fucking your slick pussy and bruising your cervix. ;3

he's constantly playing metal music, your poor ears aching as he fucks you roughly and restlessly, going for multiple rounds whilst you pant and heave through exhaustion.

you're just a dumb, little thing for könig to use whenever he feels like it, right...? he fucks you to the beat of the music, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your cheeks raw and wet as he rubs his wet, pierced tip against your clit, soft and slow movements as he teases you for being so damn sensitive. :(((

he's utterly obsessed with having his hair tugged and pulled at... especially if you're riding him after smoking an overpacked bong with him. he's such a horrible influence, and you're so needy! eyelids heavy, lazily ridiculous him and crying into his musky neck.

the way those cold, metal balls drag against your warm, gummy walls for hours on end absolutely drives you crazy, too much for your dumb, little head to comprehend.

and tattoos? he has some on his muscular, fat thighs and his biceps, as well as one on his back. he gets rough accidentally, and you get so dumb off of his big cock so fucking easily... :( half conscious and moaning while you weakly tug at his long, thick, straight hair... :3

“stay awake, mouse,” könig growls out, slapping your cheek hard enough that you're aware and alert. “look at you taking me so well, ja?” he teases, biting your neck while you tangle your hands in his hair, bouncing doen onto him in harmony with his thrusts!!

#orla speaks #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig mw2 #cod konig #konig x reader #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig #konig call of duty

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co-reborn · 2 years ago

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WYR-0525: Good Little Student Wang Yiren Is Secret Porno Slut! Couldn't Resist Fuck During Office Hours With Teacher, Multiple Orgasms Spanking Doggy Style Sex Party!

Yiren x Male Reader

view in AFF

4,246 Words

A/N: Powered through writing this for @praeluxius and special thanks to him and @sinswithpleasure for helping beta-read this fic.

A/N2: Potential TW in terms of dubious consent for a certain part of the fic. I do not condone doing it IRL.

Funny how Wang Yiren has such a strong passion for the camera. The shot of her face when you take her attendance always reminds you of the many times you’ve seen her on the internet long before she became your student. You didn’t want to believe it at first but everything about her felt so familiar. You try to ignore her online persona as much as you can. She distracts you enough outside of class and you can’t have her be a distraction in class too.

Your eyes linger a little too long after you mark her as present. An hour and a half ago, she was dressed all prim and proper. Now at the end of class, Yiren looks like a complete mess. Her top is haphazardly buttoned and her face is flushed with stray hairs sticking to her forehead. You know that look. You can tell what she has been doing during your online class.

Block out any stray thoughts and focus on what’s on hand right now. You finish class with final reminders about other assignments and soon after, your students begin to leave the call. Only one remains. Yiren doesn’t say anything, just navigating her screen before she makes eye contact with you through the screen.

Immediately, your phone receives a notification. The website icon gives you a hint on what it’s about and you tense up for a second. When you look back at your monitor, you’re alone in the online classroom. You heave a sigh and close the app. Your next lesson is a while away so you busy yourself with some emails and marking of assignments. However, the universe has another plan for you. The notification of your phone stares at you. Ignore it.

You can’t.

You pick your phone up to read it proper—WYR uploaded a new video.

Your monitor cursor automatically finds its way to the bookmark bar and clicks the oh-so familiar webpage. Right at the top of the page it shows the latest video—“Class Time Sex Video For Teacher To Watch!”. You check the video length. Thirty minutes. Lunch break ends in an hour. You can finish lunch in fifteen minutes, you have time to spare. Your cursor hovers over the thumbnail. Just click away.

You almost give in to that voice in your head. The video preview starts playing. It shows Wang Yiren’s near-naked body. She has posted several intimate videos on this blog from months prior to being in your class and you hate to admit that you watched every single one of them. Your fingers tremble and ultimately, you go against your morals and get ready to watch the latest release.

The video starts off simple as always—an up-close image of her cute face smiling at her viewers. You’re thinking to yourself, ‘Fuck, she’s so goddamn pretty’. Yiren is easily the cutest student you have come across and if you were her classmate, you’d die to date her.

However, when she takes a step back and you see the manner she’s dressed in, your thoughts change to ‘Fuck, she’s so goddamn hot’. Her uniform top, the same one she was wearing earlier in your class, is halfway undone and she’s giving you a peek down to her cleavage. That sight remains on your screen for the next few minutes, you aren’t exactly sure how long. She stayed in the position for some time, undoing the rest of the buttons and pulling the top open repeatedly in a teasing fashion, plus you couldn’t resist rewinding those few seconds several times.

Then, Yiren takes another step back and turns around. When she leans forward, her skirt lifts just enough for you to see her cheeks peek from below it. Her hands reach for the side of the skirt and an audible zip later, it drops to reveal her skimpy pink panties. You pause the video to take the moment to properly admire her half-clothed ass, even spotting the outline of her pussy. Letting the video continue playing, you watch Yiren pull her panties down her legs. She’s already wet and definitely needy for some action. She follows up by teasing the camera with shakes of her ass mixed with her hands running all over the pristine white skin.

Meanwhile, you’re obsessed with the thought of what it would be like if you were next to her. Digging your fingers into her fine little ass would send you into a frenzy. You wouldn’t stop there. There’s more to enjoy than groping her. You want to spank that ass and ruin the perfect white with red hand marks. That will truly drive you insane.

As if she can predict your thoughts, what comes next is a series of soft slaps accompanied by her soft yelps. Yiren is slapping her own ass, although you would be rougher than that if you had the chance, and the first few moans of the video already have you twitching and leaking. This continues for the next minute or so, her slaps gradually increasing in strength, causing her ass to grow redder.

Yiren then turns back to the camera and smiles as she takes a seat. Slowly, she spreads her legs and your eyes are glued to the screen. You want to get a proper look at her crotch but her hands are covering the view, as if she knows exactly what you want. Keeping up the painfully slow movement, her fingers run across her soaking pussy lips before she fully exposes herself to the camera.

Yiren picks up a dildo off her desk and she winks when she presses the dildo against her entrance. Anticipation is at its peak. You’re staring intently at the screen and waiting for your student to begin fucking herself. Unfortunately, she draws out the moment further by circling the toy around her clit.

You do not have the time nor the patience to watch Yiren tease herself so you spam the arrow key to skip ahead. One click too many and you barely catch the sight of her inserting the last inch of the toy into her pussy. She then pulls it out and her juices staining the toy causes it to glisten. A split second later, the dildo is buried deep inside her one more. In and out the toy goes, a seemingly endless cycle that you’re so accustomed to watching such that you can “watch” with your eyes closed.

You stroke yourself at the same pace as Yiren fucking herself. You wish to be the one fucking her and your mental image slowly shifts.

She’s lying on her back and already spreading her legs. She’s wearing that same “fuck me” look she loves to put on in her videos and beckoning you to get closer to her. You’re pounding her fast and hard and the next thing you know, Yiren has her arms and legs wrapped around your neck and waist. She pulls you into her and you hear her every gasp and moan.

“Faster. Harder.”

You’re fully unaware of how long the video has been going for and eventually, the moaning comes to a temporary pause. You slow your strokes down as well, not wanting to blow your load too early. An abrupt cut later, you’re presented with a new angle.

The dildo is now placed on her chair and Yiren has repositioned herself to face the backrest of the chair. While you’re denied vision to her front, you have the privilege to watch her ass. Her hand steadies herself against the backrest while the other pulls her cheeks apart just enough for the camera to catch the erotic scene. Yiren looks over her shoulder and bites her lips as she sinks downwards onto the toy.

As soon as the dildo is fully in her body, she begins to ride it fervently, not hesitating to vocalise her pleasure. You wish you could watch her face contort in pleasure but you’ll settle for the sight of her ass rippling as she bounces on the chair over and over. If only you get to watch that in the flesh or even experience it for yourself.

You always suppress the thought of fucking her when in class or on campus but in the privacy of your home, your inhibitions no longer hold you back. It would be heaven for Yiren to be on top of your lying figure and riding you. You want to grip her hips and bounce her hard against your cock. You want to fucking use your hot student’s body in any way possible. While your imagination continues to go wild, the pressure in your loins grows as you inch closer to your orgasm.

“Fuck!”

You snap your attention back to the screen when Yiren’s moans grow in volume and frequency. Your eyes are glued to the screen just in time to watch her cum. Her back arches and her head tosses back. Even after she has came, she never stops riding the toy despite the struggle.

By now, you’re more than 20 minutes into the video. You have been edging closer and closer to your peak. Rewind the last few seconds over and over. Watching the sight of Yiren cumming repeatedly is just what sets you off. You cum all over yourself and make a mess of your hands and your crotch. Your eyes shut while the pleasure of your orgasm courses through you and all you can hear is Yiren’s skin slapping on the now-wet chair.

Gently maintain your strokes even when you have stopped leaking while you grab nearby tissue to wipe yourself up. By now, Yiren is facing the camera and is holding her stained dildo. Her tongue circles the girth of the toy as she begins to suck it. If not for the time constraint, you would consider going for a second round.

After you finish cleaning yourself, you look at the video again. The glint in her eyes as she sucks her juices clean off the toy tells you something—she’s not done yet.

Before the video ends, she leans closer to the camera and whispers, “Aren’t I a good little student?”

“Yes, Yiren. Yes you are.”

~~~~~~

An unexpected knock on the door causes you to snap out of your trance and pause the video you were engrossed in.

“Come in.” You shut your laptop and look up.

Oh. It’s her.

Yiren steps into your office. Seeing that she’s wearing the same outfit as that video from days ago, your mind replays clips of her stripping herself, spanking herself, fucking herself. You shake your head and clear the images away.

Standing across the desk from you, she exclaims, “Do you like me?”

You raise your eyebrow, unsure of what she means. She shifts your laptop to the side of your table and lays her bag carefully on it. You frown, confused by her actions. Moving towards your side of the table, Yiren crosses her arms and leans on the edge of your desk, “I mean, sir, do you like watching my videos?”

There’s nothing you can do but sit in confused silence.

“Oh please, I recognise that website icon on your bookmark bar any day of the week.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. In fact, I’m flattered that you watch my videos.” Yiren then places her hands on your shoulders and leans closer to you. “Sir, did you know I started filming myself in the middle of your online classes before?”

You gulp. Of course you remember the times when notifications go off minutes after your class ends and when you watch the videos, she is wearing the very same clothes as during the attendance check. “Y-Yes Yiren.”

“I did that not because I was bored, but because I get so wet whenever I hear your voice. I touch myself thinking about you. I fuck myself imagining it’s your cock I’m riding.”

Your eyes widen at the revelation. Your student lusting after you? This can’t be right.

“I want you, Sir, and I know you want me too. This will be our little secret.”

She finally plants her lips on yours and you immediately reciprocate.

You shut your eyes as you melt into the kiss. Her lips taste so sweet and addictive that it makes you yearn for much more. This isn’t right.

It feels like a match made in heaven. Yiren straddles you and pushes into you to deepen the kiss. Her tongue probes against your lips and you accept it. Immediately, it swirls around yours and explores your mouth. This is wrong.

Your hands roam her body, starting from her thighs up to her waist. So, so wrong.

They continue moving up to her shoulders. You want to wrap your arms around her and pull her tight. Stop now!

Your eyes widen and you push her away instead, trembling while the dilemma of what’s right or wrong sets in. Your last bit of conscience begs you to draw the line and walk away before you make any mistake. Yet where was it all those times when you jerked off to your student’s porn videos and streams and fantasised about fucking her in any conceivable way?

Deep in thought, you don’t even notice that your top is removed. Your body doesn’t register the sudden cold when heat is built up between your legs. The devil is now on her knees. Yiren does everything in her power to tempt you. Her lust-filled eyes are fixated on you and hold yours in place. You feel her hands unbuckling your belt and pulling down your pants but you’re completely powerless to react. Maybe you don’t want to.

Her first touch on your exposed shaft sends shivers up your spine. When she spits on your cock and begins to stroke it, you’re pulled back closer to sin and your rational thoughts are pushed further away. Yiren doesn’t stop there, especially when there’s so much more she can do. She dips her head lower and begins to pepper your balls with light kisses. It becomes so much easier to give in to your primal desires when she lightly sucks them. You manage to hold back a moan but your resistance is crumbling fast.

Your eyes dart up and look at the door. It isn’t locked. In a final attempt to stop, you mumble, “Someone might come in and catch us.”

As if being caught is the only problem with this.

Yiren licks your cock from the base to the tip before she looks into your eyes. “So let them watch.” You twitch in her hands and elicit a smirk from her. “Let them watch how good you fuck your good little student.”

You take a step across the line once again. When she wraps her lips around your girth, you hold her hair and push her lower onto your dick. Taking her time, Yiren takes you into her mouth inch by inch until your full length is in. She keeps you there and loudly gags on your cock, making a mess on your crotch with her saliva. Then, as slowly as she took you in, she peels off you, her lips still maintaining their tight seal around your girth.

Your hands clutch onto your chair, trying to ground yourself into reality. You’re a teacher. Yiren’s your student. She’s sucking you off. She’s giving you the best blowjob you’ve ever had.

“Fuck, your cock tastes so good, Sir.” Yiren continues to lick your slit and leaking precum. “You like my mouth on your cock?”

A groan will suffice. You don’t need any other answer. You only need her skilful mouth pleasuring you.

“Shut up and fucking suck my dick.”

She takes you in her mouth once again, this time letting the tip hit the back of her throat. Her hand rubs your balls and she alternates between deepthroating you and stroking you quickly.

The room is filled with the sounds of Yiren’s sloppy blowjob and your deep breaths. If anyone were to walk by your office, surely you’ll be in deep trouble. However, the fear of getting caught has long slipped your mind, replaced by the ever-growing lust for your student.

You yank her off your cock by the hair and pull her onto her feet. Hastily undo all her shirt buttons and rid her of the top, followed by her bra. You barely get any time to admire her bare chest before she turns around, so your hands roam her body instead, feeling up her waist and her tummy, fondling her breasts and pinching her nipples. This perfect body that thousands watch and dream about touching that only you get the honour of doing so.

Yiren leans against your chest and unzips her skirt. It drops to the floor and leaves her in her panties. You wish to reach into it and finger her but she pushes off you and supports herself on the desk. She repeatedly shakes her ass and pushes it back to you, her clothed ass occasionally brushes against your swollen tip.

Her teasing got to you and you’re too impatient for that at this point. You bend down and peel her panties off her, ridding Yiren of her last article of clothing. You finally get to see her naked in the flesh and even get a close up view. Your forefinger rubs her lower lips to find that she’s utterly wet. Curiosity got to you and you get a quick taste of her essence. Fuck, she’s so delectable.

You wish to bury yourself between her thighs and drown in her juices but you have a better prize instead—your hottest student is aching and desperate for you to fuck her. Having perfectly positioned yourself behind Yiren, you press your tip against her pussy. She looks over her shoulder and bites her lips.

Your heart pounds. You’re about to do it. You’re about to fuck your student. You’re about to fuck the Wang Yiren. Fully entering her body in one go, you're quickly overwhelmed. You want nothing other than to fuck this girl over and over.

“God, you have no clue how long I’ve wanted this.”

“If you had asked, I would let you fucked me earlier.”

“Then we have a lot of lost time to make up.” You kiss her cheek. “I’ll need to schedule more meetings with you.”

Yiren giggles in response and you feel her clench around you even further. As you continue to indulge in her body, more sinful thoughts fill your head, particularly all the things you want to do to Yiren.

Raise your hand and land a slap on her butt. Immediately, there is a reaction—her body tenses up and her pussy clenches around you. Yiren drags out a moan before she turns to you. The glint in her eyes tells you that she wants more. You time your next few slaps with your thrusts. Partially withdraw your cock from her, then land a spank on her. When her body jolts forward, hold her hips and pull her back to yours, thrusting your dick in at the same time. Upon establishing this rhythm, your strength gradually increases and you spank and fuck Yiren harder.

This is addictive. You’ve been “using” her to relieve yourself for months now, watching her put on provocative performances on the internet, but now, you’re truly using her as an outlet for your pleasure without a care about hers, although there is no doubt she’s enjoying herself too. You can’t go back from here. There’s no return to just jerking off to her videos. You need her.

Soon after, you press onto her back to slam her onto your desk and pin her waist against the edge, keeping her writhing body still while you continue to have your way with her. Caught off guard, Yiren yelps in pain. Her walls tighten around you as she gets closer to her peak. She’s so snug, so wet, and you take it as a signal to give her the final push. Digging your heels into the floor, you put more energy into your hips, forgoing strength for speed, all the while not letting up on your spanks. Tug her hair and lean straight into her ear, “Cum.”

Yiren instantly melts into her orgasm and loudly moans as pleasure washes over her. You remain buried deep in her throughout it, her pussy pulsating around your cock and bringing you a step closer to cumming.

Moments later, you pull out of her and fall back onto your chair, your slick-coated shaft still erect and aching for your own orgasm. Yiren remains bent over the table while recovering and you note the shade of red on her ass. It’s even redder than any of the other times she spanked herself on her videos.

Still, you can’t resist giving one last slap to her ass and watching her flesh ripple. She turns around and giggles before leaning over you. Her left hand holds your cheek and pulls you in for a kiss while her right wraps itself around your cock and briefly strokes you.

“Yiren, I want to watch you fuck yourself on my cock.”

“Anything for you, Sir.”

Yiren straddles you and inserts you back into her wet pussy. She holds onto your shoulder and rides you with the sole purpose of milking your cum. She tosses her head back and moans at the sheer pleasure of fucking you.

Your senses are in overdrive. Days ago, the video only showed her riding the toy from the back and you were satisfied already. Now, you get to watch her pretty face contort in pleasure and nothing can beat this view anymore. The feel of her tight pussy is out of the world as her snug walls pulsating around you brings you more pleasure than all her videos combined. Her moans are mixed with your deep groans as well as the repeated sounds of skin slapping, surely anyone who passes by will know what’s going on. The musky scent that fills the enclosed room is one that you wish to keep permanently in your office. Her taste still lingers on your tongue that makes you seek for more.

When she leans further into you, you kiss her neck and down to her chest. Her breasts are a perfect size, all the times she teases her nipples makes you want to nibble on them and now you have the perfect opportunity to do so.

Yiren digs into your skin with each passing second and she picks up the rhythm. You try your best to hold back as you want to prolong this session but her body is just too hot. You don’t know how long it has been since she first entered your office and you don’t know how you have lasted this long.

“Are you going to cum in me Sir?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Fill me up. Fulfil your dreams of cumming in your good little student’s pussy.”

Your willpower has been chipped away and your body starts to crumble and give in. Holding her butt and slamming her petite body harder onto your lap, you thrust your hips up as much as you can.

“Fuck!”

You hold her tight as you do just that. Spurts of cum are shot into Yiren as you experience an orgasmic high like never before. She gently grinds on you throughout, ensuring every drop of cum leaves your body and is buried inside hers.

You sigh after you recover and bits of your conscience come flowing back. You shouldn’t have done that. It felt amazing, but you shouldn’t have fucked Yiren. When she lifts herself off your cock, you struggle to keep a moan in out of the fear that she pulls you in for another session.

She hastily puts on her clothes, leaving her bra and panties in your possession. You follow right after, haphazardly dressing yourself as fear of getting caught begins to seep in. While you’re doing so, Yiren leans against your desk and dips her fingers under her skirt. She scoops some of your cum out of her pussy and licks it clean. “You taste good.”

She then grabs her bag and heads out of your office but not before stopping at the door and turning back to you.

“See you soon, Sir.”

~~~~~~

The rest of the day goes by with your mind wandering about this afternoon’s events. You’re back home and by your desk. Why are you here again?

Your laptop is open. The website is loading. You’re preparing to undress yourself and to watch Yiren’s videos once again. Now knowing how Yiren’s petite body feels under your touch surely makes watching her videos much more enjoyable. The voice in your head quickly gives up and is suppressed. The sinful thoughts prevail once again.

At the top of the blog is her latest release—“Couldn't Resist Fuck During Office Hours With Teacher, Multiple Orgasms Spanking Doggy Style Sex Party!”. Your hand shivers as you click onto it. Eyes widen as you realise she has somehow recorded the session from earlier, capturing the action from multiple angles. Distraught, betrayal and anger fills you. You’d never expect to be set up like that.

But while your blood continues to boil, another feeling resurfaces. An extremely familiar one.

You pull down your shorts and boxers. The video plays and you stroke yourself with each frame triggering memories of her touch.

Maybe Yiren isn’t a good little student after all.

******

A/N3: Thanks for reading :) Please don’t record your sexual acts without your partner’s consent IRL

#kpop fanfic #kpop smut #everglow #everglow smut #wang yiren #yiren smut

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