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pirateprincessblog · 9 days

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outlaw

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: you wish there would be a time you could call your life boring again. before all the mess, before the town fell apart, before your father disowned you. before jeong yunho. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeong yunho x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 11.1k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: wild west theme, cowboy!yunho, bartender!reader 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: praising, claiming, dacryphilia, marking, size kink, oral, unprotected sex, outdoor sex

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: violence, weapons, alcohol consumption, murder, slight gore, attempted SA 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: django performance might be the reason why i switched from hongjoong to yunho after four years of being loyal. NOT PROOFREAD I AM IMPATIENT I HAD TO POST IT BEFORE GOING TO BED! <3

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"another one, sweetheart."

i'm not your sweetheart, you wanted to mutter. but you bit your tongue, remembering that your father is somewhere in the room. so you have no other choice but to approach the loud, messy table, and pour the greasy dirty man another glass of whatever alcohol you had in hand. it didn't matter anymore, as long as it filled his stomach.

"that's a good girl," he roars with laughter, heavy hand landing on your bottom and making you jolt.

your eyes seek your father, silently asking for help. but no help comes. instead, he points to a different table that demands attention, and leaves the saloon. you stand still, voices muffling around you. your neatly put bun is now falling apart, strands loose on your face and sticking due to sweat, your clothes are heavy on you, and your hands will soon start shaking if you don't take a break from all the work. from early mornings, to even earlier ones the next day, you are destined to be a servant on your own father's property. you wonder if this will last forever. pouring alcohol, dodging flying chairs and tables, taking the harassment so you can survive for another month.

if this really is your future, then what is the point of living? will he marry you off to one of these men? or will he keep you as his servant until the end of his days? you remember the day everything changed for you. you had just come back from the city, finishing the school day. barely a teen, hand in hand with your best friends. your father sat you in the empty saloon, putting his hands on your shoulders.

"you're quitting school."

just a month after you buried your mother, he told you that. there was nobody to help him, he had to fire his staff, and laid his trust into you. the business was crazy that week. who wouldn't want to come and see the owner's little daughter serving alcohol? those men congratulated your father on your birth, watched you play on the street, went to your mother's funeral and wailed with you, came to the saloon to see you struggle with bottles and glasses, only later to have their filthy hands all over you as soon as you turned eighteen. it doesn't stop, no matter how many times you ask. the pleading only makes them do it more, those sick bastards. and each one of them have a wife waiting at home, and a child comforting her.

"hey, bitch, over here!"

monday was a peaceful day. no work, not at the saloon at least. but a basket full of dirty old clothes awaits by the door, waiting to be washed. it is a cold autumn morning, the sun very low in the sky and not warming at all. you drag your feet across the field, hands red from the weight of the basket and the frost. your dress catches onto various branches and bushes, but you do not look back. you need to be done before noon, so you can make lunch for your father.

reaching the river, you drop the basket on the dying grass. a few flowers are still scattered here and there, fighting their way through the cold morning dew. as you scrub your father's shirt on the washboard, you notice just how old those clothes have gotten. you both need new ones, you cannot be walking around looking like the poorest people in town, while owning a saloon. but your father sees no value in those things. talking to him is like talking to a wall that might hit you if you say something it doesn't like. so you keep your mouth shut.

the used, thin washboard suddenly snaps under your hands, a piece of wood jamming into your skin and making you yelp. your skin being almost frozen from being in cold water, and then getting pierced, makes you finally break down. you hug your knees to your chest, and bury your head into the muddy dress. you're cold, in pain, and you miss your mother. your friends. the life you had, and the life you were supposed to have.

sometimes, you selfishly blamed your mother for dying. if she was still here, you could've had a life just like your friends. finding a job in the big city, a man too, a decent one. not this.

you hide your hands in the ruffles of your worn out dress, seeking warmth. you cannot go back home without washing the rest of the clothes, and the sun is rising faster than you want it to. noon will come by soon, and you will have two tasks unfinished. your father won't be pleased.

a distant neigh and galloping have your attention, your head curiously turning to see who it could be. your heart almost sinks when you see the speed the horses are headed at towards you, but with legs and bum frozen on the ground, you cannot move. all you can do is close your eyes in defeat, hoping for the best.

the gallop stops, now switching to a trot. you open your eyes, and see two shiny horses in front of you. the two men riding them dismount, one of them standing next to his horse and taking the leash from the other one. the taller man adjusts his hat, gaze fixed on the floor, and fastens his holster. you gulp, seeing the shiny revolver resting on his hip. then, he raises his head to finally look at you. you almost forget the potential danger of the situation once you look at his brown eyes. he is tall. very tall. and absolutely gorgeous. you look away, suddenly aware of how you look. heavens, what a perfect timing.

"oh, it's just a doe." he says, voice soft and sweet. he tilts his head, trying to get you to look at him. when you don't, he takes a step closer to you, careful not to scare you away. "came for a morning refreshment?"

you don't respond. instead, you look at the man behind him. he stands still, leashes in his hands. his clothes are a bit more rugged than the ones on the man in front of you, but it fits his image very well. then, your eyes betray you end lay on the man in front of you again. he wears a brown leather jacket with fringes, dark blue jeans, and matching brown boots. his brown hat sits perfectly on his head, giving him a mysterious look. he notices you staring, and only chuckles softly. he reaches into his saddlebag, retrieving something wrapped in a white cloth.

"hungry?"

this time, your stomach is the one that betrays you. it decides to grumble as soon as you shake your head no, making the man chuckle again.

"go on, you can have it. you look like you need it."

he holds it out for you to take, closing the distance further. you step back, remembering your father's words.

"no speaking to other men outside of the saloon. if i see you do that, i will personally declare you a whore. nobody will want to marry you, and you'll be alone for the rest of your life."

charming. the man doesn't give up, as he steps further towards you. you step back again, hunger, fear and curiosity fighting inside of you and making you sick to your stomach.

"it's alright. it's just food, i don't mean you any harm."

but he doesn't know what words ring inside your head. taking another step back, your heart almost stops once again. you have stepped into the shallow river, your body losing balance following. the handsome cowboy drops the item on the floor, and firmly grabs your waist and pulls you back to stand on the grass. you instinctively grab onto his shoulders for support, and he pulls your body into his. you breathe out when your chest collides with his, overwhelmed by the situation.

"clumsy girl," he teases.

you can't make yourself move, not only because you don't want to, but because his grip is firm on your waist. he safely moves you away from the water and removes one hand from your body, only to move the loose strands of hair from your face.

"wyatt," he calls.

the other man steps towards the two of you, not uttering a word.

"you go on. i'll catch up with you."

without protest, he gets on his horse, nods towards his companion, then gallops away. you are left alone with the ridiculously handsome cowboy, now feeling a bit warmer than a few moments ago. the man finally lets go of you, picking up the cloth from the ground. a distant thunder surprises you, and you look over at the scattered clothes. the black clouds over the mountains are covering the blue sky quite fast, and it just seems at this moment that everything is working against you.

you hurriedly collect the remaining dirty clothes, crouching down and brushing it against the half of the washboard as best as you can. your hand is in pain, still dripping red, but your father's consequences are more painful. you'd rather have a hundred more splinters ripping your skin than your father slapping you across the face like he is used to.

the man lets you finish, turning his attention to the horse. in the corner of your eye, you see him caressing the horse's mane. the animal leans into his hand, enjoying the comfort of his warm and caring touch. he looks so tough, yet his actions are a complete opposite.

"if you're done staring, you can join me."

caught red handed, and red cheeked, you turn around to see him sat under the nearby tree, opening the white cloth. he sets it on the ground near him, and folds his arms across his chest. you pick up the now clean clothes, the broken washboard forgotten and floating somewhere further down the field. you sit next to him, the food serving as an imaginary border. he takes his hat off, putting it over his face and rests his head against the tree.

"if you're embarrassed to eat in front of me. now i won't look. eat. please."

and you do. you take a bite of the biscuit, enjoying it like it's your first one ever. you take the chance now that he doesn't see anything to properly look around. his horse is gorgeous, white with brown legs and head. you then look at its owner, still chewing on the biscuit. the more you look at him, the more your stomach feels all fuzzy. is this what it feels like to be attracted to a man? are you finally experiencing a crush?

you should really get home.

thunder grumbles again, causing the horse to become restless.

"shh, you're good." the cowboy says soothingly, not moving from his spot. and the horse listens.

it soothes you too, because you lean against the tree like him, and silently eat. your breathing matches his, and for a moment, you think that he has fallen asleep. until you start feeling drops of rain on your head. you don't say anything. you don't really need to, because the man interrupts his short break by standing up and putting his hand out for you to take. you take it, your hand melting into his as he helps you up. his touch is secure, and gentle. nobody has ever held you this way, and you are afraid you might get used to it. he leads you to his horse, throwing his spare jacket your way.

"i'll take you home."

"no!"

the cowboy scrunches his eyebrows, and abruptly turns towards you. his hand doesn't leave yours, no matter how hard you pull. "she speaks." he says, as if he made an important discovery.

you shake your head frantically, repeating yourself. "no, you can't."

"why?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"because."

"that's not a valid answer, sunshine."

if your stomach wasn't turning from the difficult situation you have found yourself in, it would turn from the simple nickname coming from his mouth. you aren't quite sure whether you're feeling nervous because of your father, or because of the handsome stranger. you remember that he is just a stranger, no matter in how much awe he has you. if you get on his horse, he could take you anywhere. but if you don't get on his horse, he could simply tie you up and take you with him anyway.

fuck.

"i like to walk." you blurt out, grabbing the basket of clothes and holding it in front of you, as if shielding yourself from him.

"lies."

"please, just leave me alone. thank you for the food, and for, well, not letting me fall into the water, but-"

"does he beat you every day?"

he says it with a tone so serious it has your blood going cold in your veins. his gaze becomes stone cold, dark, and it pierces right through you. seeing your distressed face, he steps towards you again, moving your hair away from your neck. the bruise you thought you so cleverly hid now uncovered in front of him. funny how a potentially dangerous stranger shows more interest in it than the town.

"or only when you do something wrong?"

"i don't see how that's any of your business."

"it isn't. however, if you want it to stop, you might have to make it my business."

you wish for nothing more than for it to stop. but exactly how does this man plan to make it his business? talk to your father? teach him a lesson? or the worst?

"i'll tell you what. i'll bring you just to the hill so nobody sees us, and you think about what i said until then."

you nod, defeated. you really need to get home as quick as possible and get started on the lunch. the cowboy helps you up on the horse, then climbs behind you. this is the closest you've ever been to a man, and if you weren't sneakily reading those short romance stories in the back of the discarded newspaper, you would think that you are becoming ill by how hot your cheeks feel. when he grabs the leash, also helping you hold the basket in the process, you take your time to admire his hands. pretty pale fingers, slightly muddy from maybe hours or days of riding. he smells of whiskey, vanilla and a hint of tobacco. you allow yourself a moment of weakness, closing your eyes and inhaling the scent. it doesn't help the way his warm chest and torso are pressed against your back, rubbing against you with each horses gallop.

when you open your eyes, you are disappointed to see the hill. it means that the short little adventure with the mystery cowboy has come to an end, and that you might never see him again. it's all up to you. and you hate that.

he helps you down, then fixes the ruffles of your dress that were slightly turned upwards from riding while you are occupied with the clothes in the basket.

"well?" he finally says, seeing that you have no intention of speaking first.

"i'll be fine." you lie.

you almost miss the way he bites the inside of his cheek from disappointment. almost. he nods, understandingly, and approaches you. for the last time, maybe. he takes your hand in his, thumb rubbing over the place where your splinter is. "take care of that. wouldn't want such pretty hands to be in pain or have a scar."

he kisses the back of it, eyes not once leaving yours. you almost shiver, from the cold and from his touch.

"thank you for your company, dove. we must part ways now, but i do hope i see you again one day. you are too pretty to forget."

he takes his hat off to say his goodbye, then climbs back on his horse. with a sweet smile and a nod, he gallops away. you stand there and watch, heart swelling with sadness. you watch and watch, until he becomes just a small little dot in the distance.

weeks pass, and your life dynamic does not change. you still serve drunk perverts, avoid sexual offers, cook, and freeze yourself by the river. only now, you wake up earlier than usual, and keep looking at your surroundings in hopes of seeing a familiar brown hat. but you never see it. it's been almost two months, and not a single sign from him. maybe for the best. he did look like bad news. very handsome bad news.

you currently sit in a dark corner in the saloon, reading last weeks newspaper for the romance update on the last page. the appearance of the main character morphs into the cowboy in your head. no longer short, blonde haired with blue eyes and bulk figure, but dark haired with a short mullet, with brown eyes and a slender figure. you didn't even catch his name, yet you shamelessly daydream about him.

the doors of the saloon aggressively swing, startling you and breaking your bubble. you turn the newspaper upside down, hiding your little secret. a young man, known as denver, stands at the entrance, face pure horror. your father approaches him, putting his hands on his shoulders to calm him down.

"what's wrong, boy?"

denver barely gets his sentence out, before countless gallops are heard outside, accompanied with various screams. "he's here."

"who is?"

"the stallion."

you have never seen your father scared. and that scared you even more. he took a step back, abandoning the young man. the saloon became a mess, everyone pushing each other on the way to the exit, but suddenly coming to a halt. you stand up, taking your place behind the bar. the people are stepping back, slowly, still facing towards the doors. they separate in two groups, making way for the intruder. and when your eyes land on the intruder, you swear your heart could jump right on the bar in front of you.

your cowboy, your mystery man, the man you prayed you'd see again, stands in your saloon. drenched in blood and dust, sweaty, and with a revolver in his hand. the look on his face when he sees you tells you that you weren't meant to see him in this state. but he doesn't say anything. instead, he approaches the bar, along with his companions. they are all a mess, but not as much as him.

"good day, darling."

your stomach twists again, and you have to fight the urge to smile. you can't smile, not when everyone around you is terrified. you clear your throat, collecting any stray thoughts before speaking. "good day, sir."

"two rooms. and two bottles of whiskey waiting for me tonight." he says, a sweet smile on his lips.

"uh, yes-"

"there are no rooms available for you." your father interrupts, making his way to the bar.

the cowboy raises his eyebrow, then looks at your father. "oh?"

"yes. so i'm afraid you'll have to call it a day here."

the young man chuckles, eyes returning to your face. he throws a roll of money on the counter, then pushes is towards your father with his stained revolver. "don't be afraid, we won't."

you feel caged by his gaze, afraid to even move. why are you here, you wanted to ask. and why do you look like that. his clothes might look different, but the look on his face when he looks at you stays the same. in the corner of your eye, you notice someone trying to exit sneakily. but the cowboy also seems to catch it, because he points his trusted weapon toward the ceiling and-

"argh!" the woman screams, pure fear painted on her face.

"nobody leaves, until i get two fucking rooms and two bottles of whiskey. have i made myself clear?" he slams the revolver on the counter, causing you to jolt and step back. "now, if your pretty little daughter said that i can have them, just why the fuck are you meddling?"

defeated, your father takes the money, then nods your way. "show them."

alone?, you wanted to ask. but your tongue feels swollen, and your jaw heavy. you don't say anything. instead, you look at the fearsome cowboy, then proceed upstairs. the three of them follow, not uttering a word. you reach the rooms, opening the doors for them to see. the cowboy nods towards the room, sending them a signal to go in. when the two finally close the door, the dark haired man wastes no time in softly pinning you against the wall, just between the two doors.

"there, there. are you that scared of me, sunshine?"

you swear your eyes couldn't get any wider, and you hate it. you must look like a freak to him. but if you do, he doesn't show any disgust. he removes your hair from your neck once again, letting it fall down your back. his knuckles caress the now yellow spot on the neck, the bruise slowly healing.

his eyes shift from the bruise to your eyes, his gaze softening. "not excited to see me?"

you gulp, figuring which words to use. you are, and you are not. you don't even know.

"that's okay."

his other hand find its spot on the back of your head, slightly tilting it so that the injured side of the neck is more exposed. you feel his warm breath against your skin, growing hotter and closer. you finally let out a noise, it being a whimper rather than a proper word or sentence. soft lips graze your skin, before his tongue delicately swipes across your bruise. your stomach has never felt fuzzier, and your head is in the clouds. all those butterflies you felt while reading the newspaper have now turned into a volcano, waiting to erupt any second. the cowboy continues giving attention to your now sensitive neck, having you tremble in his arms.

he notices, putting his other hand on your waist and pushing you further into the wall, silently ordering you to stay still. he leans his own body into you, warm sensation enveloping you and causing you to moan into his ear.

realizing your horrible mistake, your hands quickly find their way to his firm chest, in an attempt to push him away. but instead, your fingers grip the fabric of his ruined leather jacket, and your head falls completely in his control. his hand massages your scalp, all while his tongue never leaves you. he switches from tender kisses, to kitten licks, and if he doesn't stop soon, you might just drip all over the floor and his shoes.

as if he heard you, he delivers one final kiss, before he pulls away. "i'll see you downstairs at dinner. thank you for the room, dove. and for the lunch."

hearing the door slam shut, you can finally breathe normally. you are left to tremble against the wall, your neck and underwear wet, all because of him. you rush to one of the empty rooms, at the end of the hallway. you lock it, then toss yourself on the bed. you waste no time in flipping your dress over, your fingers finding the soft folds between your legs. you gasp, more at the state of it than the feeling. you are soaked, your fingers almost slipping from your folds.

you spend a worrying amount of time trying to please yourself somehow, but the buildup is just growing and growing, not giving any signs of erupting soon. no matter how much you picture your handsome cowboy, just a few doors away.

and you don't even know his name.

"did he touch you?"

"what?!"

"i'm serious. did he do anything to you?"

"father-" since when do you care? "he didn't!"

he continues to follow you while you serve the guests, asking questions and demanding to know the truth. "did he say anything?"

"like?"

"anything."

"he asked for a prostitute and i said i'm available tonight."

smack.

nobody turns, already used to your father's free will. you bite the inside of your now stinging hot cheek, wishing for nothing more than to hit him with the bottle of gin you had in your hand.

"fucking slut. just like your mother. give me that." he yanks the tray from your hands, causing two glasses to fall and shatter. "pick that up, and go to the stables."

"but it's dinner time-"

"judith will help me. go. now."

not only do you end up not eating yourself, but you don't see the man whose lips you're still feeling on you. maybe that's why your father told you to leave, just so you don't see him. is it possible that he knows today isn't the first time you see the cowboy?

you search for his horse, the one you thought was the prettiest one you've seen. but it's not in the stable.

"it got shot. he had to put her down." slowly getting used to sudden intrusions, you turn around. one of his companions sit on a block of hay.

"oh." is all you manage to say.

"a shame, really. especially because she was a present from his wife."

"what?" you turn around, the bucket of carrots falling from your hands.

"ah, he didn't tell you? why would he. he wouldn't be able to get into your pants if you knew he was married. haven't you noticed something shiny on his finger?"

no, no you haven't. because you were so mesmerized by his face and behavior you didn't question whether he has someone waiting for him at home. besides, a married man wouldn't... touch you the way he did?

"ah, poor thing. you thought he had a thing for you? you don't compare to his wife. he's an outlaw after all, our yunho. his wife is a perfect match for him, almost a female version of him. did you know that the bounty on her head is higher than his?"

you feel like you could throw up. from multiple reasons. you let a married man touch you. hell, you touched yourself to a married man. not just an ordinary man, but an outlaw? what if his wife finds out? is she really that dangerous? will you be next on her victim list? not able to contain the emotions any longer, you run to the corner, bending over the blocks of hay and puking on the floor.

"ah, there, there. i'm quite surprised, that was the calmest reaction yet. other women tend to jump at his throat immediately."

other women? the ground sways under your feet, threatening to crumble and swallow you.

"since you're not in a state to speak, i'll answer all the questions in your head. have a seat, please."

you finally take a good look at the man once you sit down, seeing him stand up in front of you. he's no less handsome than the cowboy, yunho, and he is older. but the somewhat evil smirk on his face is off putting. you hold the now empty bucket in your lap, carrots laying on the ground for the horses to feast on. just in case you feel sick again.

"see, while yunho does love his dear wife, she can be a bit of a handful for him. too... dominant for him, one could say. so he seeks submissiveness in other women, just like you. women who are the opposite to lori, women who are, well, nothing. much like you."

his words shoot at your heart, and you know he is right. it just feels disappointing to hear it out loud. were you really a nothing?

"he sleeps with them and whatever, and kindly robs them while they sleep from exhaustion. the rest of us do the same with others, not to worry. it's rude to exclude, don't you think? you know, you should really pay more attention to that notice board next to your house. my head is the third one from the left, right under the mighty stallion."

"why would you tell me this? what's in it for you?"

"my, you speak! what's in it for me? nothing, if i'm being honest. i just happen to be aware of the treatment your father gives you, and i guess the years are starting to catch up to me. i think i feel pity."

"you're going to ask for something in return, aren't you?"

"clever girl, you are." he crouches in front of you, cupping your cheek and caressing it with his thumb. "give me what you wanted to give yunho."

"i didn't want to-"

"you think i'm dumb? like you? i know that if he had only asked you, you would've jumped in his bed right away. therefore, i tell you, give me what i ask."

"no."

the older man scoffs, then stands up again. his hand remains on your cheek, but his thumb stops caressing it. he removes it, only to bring it back with a slap. losing balance, you fall on the ground. the man doesn't give you any time to process what just happened, grabbing you by your shoulders and throwing you on the pile of hay. you open your mouth, letting out a scream that gets cut off by his lips on your mouth. they feel greasy, reeking of onion and beef, not remotely close to yunho's.

your hands are trapped above your head, his hand holding it in place while his other one struggles with the layers of your dress and apron. you kick, as fast and hard as you can, but you only manage to piss him off. he pulls away, only to spit in your face.

"i bet you wouldn't give yunho a hard time like this. why do all women have to be so difficult? all i want to do is make you feel good, baby."

tears stream down your face, words stuck in your throat. even though nothing is blocking your mouth anymore, you don't speak.

"you know, if you just let me... i'd get rid of your father for good. i could take you with me, i'd make you feel good any time you ask. i could-"

his words are left hanging in the air, and you feel hot liquid splash over your face. the shooting noise catches up to you right after the man's body falls on you, lifeless. you finally scream, lungs hurting from the amount of it. your hands fly to your face, wiping off the liquid and staring at it. red drips down your hands, onto your neck, pure terror filling your body as you realize you have someone's remains all over you. short and fast breaths leave your mouth, chest compressed under his heavy figure. it is not until another figure pulls him off you, and puts his hand over your mouth with hushing noises.

"it's alright, love." you recognize the voice as wyatt's, who then helps you up. "hey, you're fine."

you're not. you do not know who to trust. then again, when you don't trust your own father, why bother?

"let's get you washed."

after splashing your face with cold water and wiping it with his handkerchief, wyatt helps you to the back entrance of the saloon, then goes back to the stables. probably to finish the business.

you find yourself laying in the guest bed again, only this time, the sheets aren't wet from arousal, but from tears. you spend at least two hours, eyes fixed on the wooden ceiling . you feel dirty, still feeling his dirty hands all over you. your fingers hesitantly touch your face, afraid that you'll stain them red again. your dress and apron still have droplets of now brown liquid. is this what yunho does? is that why he looked the way he did when he entered the saloon? only the blood on his clothes was still red, still very fresh.

if what the dead man said was true, then you best stay out of the cowboy's way. and just like that, your secret little romance story has turned into a horror one.

the next few days, you don't see yunho much. you see the prostitutes coming down from the top floor, sometimes two or three of them at a time. and you are disgusted. you only see him at breakfast, from afar, and he doesn't show much interest in approaching you. his companions surround him, making the frown on his face bigger every day. were they discussing the strategy of robbing the town? was there something in their way?

for a split second, the man catches your gaze. his eyes soften, and you swear you could see a faint smile on his lips. but you couldn't return it. not when you know the intentions behind it. the soft look is replaced by confusion, which grows even bigger when you only spare him an ice cold glance and move on with your work.

saturday evening, the saloon is full. it is foggy, reeks of cigarettes and alcohol, and is loud. you don't see him or his crew yet, and you are thankful for it. at least one evening of peace. so far.

"it's kind of disappointing, you know? i mean, the sex is amazing. well, you know. you had him yesterday. but it's so sad that the town fears him and wants him dead. wouldn't mind having a piece of that every day. my body is burning, and it's been two days, but i still want more."

"i know, right? what a shame. i wish he'd stick around longer. i don't know about you, but i love that thrill of knowing that he's an outlaw. a wanted man, a gorgeous wanted man, having his way with me? i don't think anything will top that. i mean, did you see his-"

"another drink?" you interrupt, not able to listen anymore.

they giggle among each other before handing you the downed glasses. the saloon quiets down when they hear thuds coming from the stairs. you regret looking up, eyes immediately locking with familiar brown ones. everyone seems to watch their step, ready to get up and free a table if yunho desires it. oh, the amount of power he holds. that isn't supposed to make you feel some type of way. you're supposed to hate him.

but how, when he approaches you so politely, tucking that loose piece of hair that's been bothering you all evening behind your ear. such a simple gesture, which awakes the oceans in you, and probably means nothing to him. just a foreplay, before he finally cages you and fulfills his plans.

slowly, but surely, the music goes on. the people are relaxed once they see yunho doesn't have any thirst for blood tonight.

"gin."

"right away."

the night goes on, with you tending to everyone. and the cowboy follows you with his eyes, so much that the two women at the bar near him start throwing themselves at him just to get his attention.

"say, when are we going to have fun again?"

"yeah, stallion. did you forget us already?"

yunho chuckles, seeing you approach the other side of the bar and mouth their words with a mocking face. you hear him, raising your head enough to look at him. caught red handed, you only awkwardly press your lips in a thin line, continuing to wash the dirty glasses.

"you were never really ones to remember," yunho simply says, bringing the glass to his lips and downing the drink in one go.

he stands up, not sparing the women a glance even after they audibly gasp and start murmuring among each other. he approaches your father, saying something into his ear, then looks at you once again before disappearing upstairs.

"here," a clean washcloth lands on the bar counter by the end of the night.

"what?"

"that cowboy, stallion. he needs a bath."

"so? he can get his own washcloths. why do i need to- oh."

"yeah, oh. we haven't had a single man in a while, so there was no need for edith. now you can go fill her position."

great.

you knock on the door, and use the other hand to fix your hair before you hear him say come in. you do as told, two washcloths secure in your hand as you go deeper in the room. it takes everything in you to stand still not collapse from the sight. his clothes are carelessly dumped on the floor, and he lays still in the wooden basin filled with water. the place is steamy, the fireplace keeping the winter cold away. yunho has his arms hanging from the basin, and his head resting against the edge. the steam has caused his hair to stick to his face, which was shiny. droplets of sweat roll down his neck and into the water, and you think that is the most beautiful sight you've ever seen.

he is so manly, so handsome, and so...

"you gonna stand there and watch while i slowly cook myself into a stew here?"

he is fresh shaven, that is the first thing you notice when you approach him. he lazily opens his eyes, the hot water having relaxed his muscles a bit more than he wanted to. "right, sorry."

you wet one washcloth, then wrap it around a bar of soap. you haven't done this since... ever. yes, you helped wash your sick cousin. but she was sick, and it was different. this? having a whole man naked right in front of you, and you were supposed to touch him?

"go on. i don't bite. not unless you want to."

"i really don't." you murmur, finally pressing the soap against his hot skin.

you exhale, your heart threatening to escape from your chest and jump into the basin with the cowboy. a thin layer of fabric is all that is in the way of you finally feeling him the way you wanted. a fabric that could so easily just slip from your fingers, and you accidentally touch him. and he likes it. and he acts on it. and-

"i see you breaking your back down there. every day. with your father, with all those perverts, with all those jealous women. you deserve better. my offer still stands, you know?"

"i'm fine," you say, just like last time.

"give yourself some time to think."

the next half hour is quiet. peaceful sounds of the wood cracking, water dripping, and yunho's calm breathing. his eyes are locked on you, and you are sweating as much as him, only for different reasons. you fear that he can read your mind, figure out just how naughty the images in your head are getting. but when it gets to a certain point, you are reminded of that night, and you stop. that bastard has stolen your first kiss, and almost stole your first time. if anything, you are thankful that yunho has brought wyatt with him.

"uh... can you sit up straight?"

yunho raises an eyebrow, amused. you clear your throat when he doesn't move, looking around before finally figuring it out.

"could you sit up straight, sir? please?"

"right away, darling."

he does as asked, exposing his back to you. heavens, you want to- you want to- you don't even know what you want. there he sits, a whole meal right in front of you, and all you can do is breathe heavily and act all clumsy. you rub the soap on his back, gently massaging him and feeling every line on his body.

"you missed a spot."

"huh?"

"right here." his warm hand takes your wrist, guiding you towards his chest once again. your hand rests over his beating heart, and if you weren't so foolishly focused on seeing what the missed spot was, you would've seen the look on his face that is yelling to kiss him.

"oh, sorry."

he doesn't get angry. instead, he chuckles fondly. you are so delicate and innocent, it hurts him. too mesmerized by your focused face, he doesn't notice that your hand is traveling to his stomach. he jolts, hand clasping your wrist so tight that it has you whimper. you seem to have found a sensitive spot, not only to the body, but to the mind and heart. the look on his face shifts from a soft to an angry one, and you take it as your cue to step back.

"that's all. you can go." he mutters, looking away from you.

"but-"

"i'll finish up. go."

coming back to the stables, it takes a lot of energy. you first go during the day, with jongho. he knew, wyatt told him. the rest only knew that wyatt and the man got into a fight and wyatt had to shoot him. jongho is understanding, kind, and doesn't seem to share any of the qualities that the dead man had given them. not only is he not interested in doing any harm to the town and its people, but he is rather helpful.

yunho, again, is nowhere to be seen. you hesitate to ask. you don't know what you did wrong, but you pray that the night isn't your last encounter with him.

you stand in front of the stables, memories flooding your brain once you see the hay blocks. they have been rearranged, some destroyed, possibly by jongho or wyatt. the horses are sitting together in the corner, enjoying the warmth of each other during the first snowy day.

"i can't do it."

"that's alright. i won't force you. i just don't want one sick man to keep haunting you even when he's no longer here."

"i need time."

jongho only smiles reassuringly, patting your shoulder. he's nice, why doesn't your stomach toss and turn when you see him the way it does when you see yunho?

"i still wonder what he told you about yunho. your behaviour towards him isn't at all like he described it."

"what, he spoke to you about me?"

wyatt subtly kicks his knee from the side, ordering him to stop. but jongho feels rather mischievous today, and is growing annoyed of his leader. they were supposed to move on days ago, not behave like tourists.

"you first. i want to know why you despise him. well, except obvious reasons." the young man turns around, pointing at their companions scattered in the main street, keeping people away and scared.

you sit on the bench in front of the stable, running your hands through your already messy hair before finding the right words to say. "is he married?"

the two men look at each other, their faces not giving you much of an answer. they are extremely good at masking their emotions. wyatt sighs, sitting down to your right. "yes. and no."

"what do you mean? yes or no?"

"well, it's complicated." jongho says, sitting to your left.

"it's also not our story to tell," wyatt adds, looking over at jongho with a warning look, "yunho is the one that should be telling you."

you scoff, making both men look at you in confusion. "does it matter? he'll just sleep with me, you all will do your part of the job, and then you'll leave. i should do it as soon as possible, for both of our sakes. i imagine you can't wait to leave this town, just like we can't wait for you to leave."

"listen, if yunho wanted to harm you, he would. we never stay in one place longer than three days. we've been here far longer, as you can see. i don't know the reason yet, but i know he doesn't mean any harm. did he have a change of heart? doubt it. will he continue his crimes? i don't doubt that. is there something holding him here? yes, yes there is. i might have a guess, but-"

"jongho. shut the fuck up."

"i wasn't going to tell her, wyatt, relax."

the two men bicker over you, random words and sentences traveling to your ears and overstimulating your brain. you start feeling dizzy, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. you stand up and march down the street, leaving the two men to feel bad on the bench.

the next time you go to the stables, it is night again. and it is because your father throws a glass at you. it hits the wall right next to you, breaking, shards flying into your skin. you have nowhere to go, yunho's companions basically running the town by now. you don't need one of them to get a hold of you again. you sit on the new pile of hay, far in the corner. sobbing, pulling at your hair, cursing yourself.

how wise would it be to actually take his offer? would you be able to survive on your own? or would every single man in town finally be happy that you're all alone, unprotected, and out of someone's cage.

it hurts to even think about it, and it causes you to sob even more. your chest hurts, and after what seems like hours of crying, you aren't sure if it's from physical or emotional pain.

the animals seem to feel sorry for you, because soon enough two horses find their comfort in the hay right next to you, shielding your figure from the outside world. you can't help but laugh at the bigger one, his head pushing into your lap and demanding attention.

"aren't you cute?"

your fingers gently caress its neck, lulling it to sleep. it seems like the whole stable was affected, because soon enough they all start laying down one by one, calling it an early night and pulling you to sleep with them. funny how you got way more peace and affection from animals than your own family.

"moonshine."

click. click. click.

"come on, girl."

the warm surface you were laying on moves, following the mouth clicking noises and leaving your head to rest on the hay. you're still asleep, not aware that someone else has joined you in the stable. but the other person isn't aware that you're there either.

"there's my good girl," the man pets the black stallion, which lives up to its name and stands under the moonlight, in its full glory and shine. "aren't you beautiful?"

your eyes peel open, the voice slowly waking you up. you hear crunching, and a bucket rattling. when you finally open your eyes, you see the outline of the familiar figure at the entrance. it is not yet morning, that you figure out by the darkness that has swallowed the place. the only light being the gas lantern hanging from the saloons entrance, you don't see much. but you recognize that hat and figure anywhere.

"i wish you could speak, my pretty moonshine. you'd tell me why blood was spilled, and why my pretty girl won't lay her eyes on me anymore."

his...? his pretty girl? you don't move a muscle, hoping to hear more. the mare only points its head towards the bucket, demanding more food. yunho chuckles, reaching for another apple.

"do you think i scared her away? i made sure she knows i don't mean any harm to her. did someone fill her pretty head with something?"

the mare lets out a noise, as if wanting to confirm. yunho exhales, then sets the bucket aside. he goes further into the stable, walking just past you and grabs the saddle from the corner. going back, his boot gets caught in your dress, and causes him to halt. you shut your eyes, pretending to still sleep.

"heavens." he exhales.

you feel him get closer to you, and almost betray yourself when you feel his knuckles caress your face.

"darling?"

his voice is usually low and pleasant, but hearing him whisper is just something else. why does he have to be so perfect, yet so dangerous?

you stretch, pretending to not notice him yet. finally opening your eyes, you fake a gasp. you lean back into the hay, trying to keep a distance from him. he crouches in front of you, fixing his hat. you can't get over how well it suits him.

"had a good nap?"

"well, yes. had." you mumble, rubbing your eyes.

"that's no place to sleep, dove."

"it's the only place that gives me comfort right now."

he nods, understandingly. he offers you his hand to take, and you only look at him, puzzled.

"i'll take you to a place that will give you more comfort."

"i'm not sure-"

"that wasn't a question." the tone is serious, but the wink he gives you after it relaxes you.

the cowboy stands up, making his way to his mare. you stand up, dusting off your dress and following him. he puts the saddle on the horse, securing it, then offers you his hand again. this time you take it, not yet sure what he had in mind.

"go on, climb her."

"uh... she's quite... bigger than the last one. or any other one i rode on."

"yeah, moonshine is quite something. she's gentle though, nothing to worry about. go on, don't be shy."

with a bit of struggle, and a little push from yunho, you finally sit comfortably on the tall mare. she indeed shines under the moon, black fur reflecting beautifully in the dark night. yunho climbs behind you, taking the leash in his hands and guiding the mare down the street.

"is she fast?"

"she can be. want to see?"

"i don't know. i might scream."

he chuckles. he maintains the pace, gracefully trotting down the quiet sleepy town. you see some of his companions keeping watch, each nodding their heads your way as you pass them. your gaze falls on his hands, searching for the shiny item that was mentioned that night. but you don't see it. was it really a lie? or did yunho somehow know, and took it off? is the wife even real?

"hold on tight." he whispers into your ear, hot breath brushing your neck and cheek.

you grab onto his thighs, instinctively, right before you pass the last house and yunho whips the leash against the mare. it neighs, puts its two front legs up in the air and almost throws you on the grown. you gasp, but manage to collect yourself once the animal returns to its position and starts galloping. it feels like you're flying, and you're enjoying it more than you're scared of it. your hair flies into his face probably, but he doesn't say anything.

you pass hills, past the river where you first saw the man, and into the mountains. you don't remember the last time you went this far outside of town. not only because you weren't allowed, but you had no time or way. it's not as if you had a horse of your own.

his thighs are firm under your hands, nothing but pure muscle. and it suddenly drives you crazy, the way you feel his torso pressed against your back, arms holding the leash and keeping you from falling off along the way, his breath against your ear.

"you alright?"

"yes!"

"how do you feel? scared?"

"this is so much fun! it's scary and fun!"

his laugh is loud over the wind, chest vibrating behind you. the mare slows its pace when arriving on the steep mountain trails, carefully navigating to the top. once there, it comes to a halt. it is not very high, but high enough too overlook the fields, the river, and the distant town. yunho dismounts, then helps you down.

"cold?" he asks, noticing your trembling frame.

"a bit."

this time, he doesn't throw the spare jacket at you like the first time you met. he takes off his own, helping you put it on. it's warm, smells like him, and it's making you so dizzy you might just fall off the cliff. taking a good look at him, you decide that even if he is dangerous, his handsomeness makes up for it. he wears a brown waistcoat, accentuating his thin waist and broad shoulders. heavens, he is so dashing.

you stand still, waiting for his next plan. he pulls a blanket out of the saddlebag, along with the familiar white cloth, and sets it on the ground. the mare continues it's path further up, taking a spot near a boulder, as if used to the situation already. which brings you back to the questions in your head; did he bring other women here?

"sit down, peach. make yourself comfortable."

and you do, right next to him. you both sit still for a few moments, looking at the faint light in the distance. yunho then fidgets with something in the pocket of his jeans, before holding it out for you to take. in his open palm lays a ring, the very ring you've heard about and had your head spinning for days.

"hmph," he laughs through his nose, "figured that was the issue."

"there is no issue. you have a wife. end of story."

"take it."

"no."

"take it."

"i don't want to."

yunho sighs, then closes his hand again. he sits still for a few moments, as if thinking. and then-

"why would you do that?!"

you stand up, watching the shiny piece of jewelry fall from the cliff.

"if you listened and took it, you would've seen how worthless it is."

"i don't need your wedding ring, yunho."

his eyebrows are knit together, and you suddenly realize your mistake.

"you know my name."

"yeah."

"how?"

and you tell him. every detail of it, including the wife story. he listens carefully, face not giving any emotion. typical. by the time you finish, you are laying down and looking up at the shiny sky, tears streaming down your face. yunho is propped up on his elbow, laying on the side and listening. his fingers catch a fresh tear, brushing your cheek in the process. you are left completely baffled when he puts the very same fingers on his lips, tongue peeking out to lick the salty liquid.

"you poor thing." he coos, bringing his hand back to you. he removes the hair from your neck, then smiles with satisfaction once he sees your healed skin. "that's good. seems my medical techniques worked."

you scoff, putting your hair back over your neck with embarrassment. "so, uh... your wife?"

"a psycho."

"oh."

"she stabbed me. almost bled out to death if it weren't for jongho."

he says it so casually, as if it isn't a big deal. "you're still married though, right? that's why you had the ring."

"not quite. we weren't really married. it was just play pretend, so she could have half of everything i was bringing back. once i stopped, the bitch jumped me with a knife. barely made it out alive."

"then... why did you keep it?"

"to keep women away from me. well, those i didn't want."

"but you sleep with them. you use them anyway."

he frowns at the accusation. "no, no i don't. i only rob. i sleep only with prostitues, sometimes. what my companions do is none of my business. we have a deal, and i do not ask about what they do. just like they don't ask about me or what i do."

so, not all of it is true. but then again, can you really trust him?

"i'm so sorry, dove. if i knew that sick bastard would go behind my back, even after threatening them not to touch you-"

"it's fine. nothing happened." you try, seeing him get angrier with every second he spends imagining the situation you were in.

"he stole your first kiss."

"well, yes. but, what's done is done. it was barely a kiss, really. more like mouth to mouth breathing. it was like inhaling a whole onion." you say with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. but yunho doesn't laugh. instead, he unbuttons his waistcoat, then his shirt.

"what- what are you doing?"

"well, since you showed me your bruises, and told me your story, it would only be fair that i showed you mine."

you remember the night you washed him, when you went to touch his stomach and he told you to leave. kneeling in front of him, you finally get to see why. a scar decorates his lower torso, just above the jeans and the v-line. you breathe in, ready to do something you would only in your dreams.

you lean in, hands trembling against the blanket and fingers scrunching it from the nervous state you're in. yunho shivers, feeling your lips press against his scar. you don't stop there, inspired by his own actions. you allow your tongue to graze it, and when you get another gasp from him, you take it as a sign to keep going. his hand finds its place under your chin, raising your head to that you can look at him. and he snaps.

he grabs you by your waist, pulling you up so that you sit in his lap. you don't fight back, you're enjoying it. over the layers of the dress, you feel something poking you, and it makes your cheeks heat up.

"stop looking at me like that." he whispers, lips inches away from yours.

"like what?"

"with those big eyes. like you want me to ravish you right here."

"maybe i do."

"you're saying risky things, sugar."

seeing that he doesn't intend on making the first move, you do. you close the distance, pressing your lips against his. you don't know what you're doing, but try your best. luckily, he gives in, humming into your lips and kissing you properly. his hands on your waist scrunch the fabric of your dress as he contains himself from just pushing you below him and having you his way. he needs to take it slow. you're not like others.

"relax your jaw." he mumbles, and when you do, he allows his tongue to touch your lips, as if asking for permission to enter. and you grant it, parting your lips and unsurely letting your tongue join his.

he massages your muscle with his own skilled one, rubbing it just right and making your thighs rub and seek pleasure. he kisses you slow, and deep, each stroke of his tongue more passionate than the previous one. he feels you get annoyed by something, and is forced to stop.

"what is it?"

"as much as i love your hat, it's in the way."

the man chuckles below you, immediately removing the hat and putting it on your head. "there."

"how do i look?" you adjust it, getting used to the new item.

"like a feast."

with a swift move, yunho pulls your body closer to his face, so that it is between your legs. his hands shuffle through the layers of fabric, finally finding the undergarment and pushing it aside. "what are you doing? i'm going to squish you!"

"sit."

"what?!"

"sit."

you hover above him, not yet listening. this time, he is the one to get annoyed, and puts his hands on your bottom. he slams you against his face, tongue immediately licking a stripe up your already slick folds. you gasp, hand flying to his shoulders for support.

"rock your hips, sunshine. make yourself feel good."

you do as told, rocking your hips back and forth on his tongue, soft moans and gasps leaving your mouth. you tremble in his hands, the newfound pleasure too much for you to handle. "i can't- yunho, it's too much-"

the man only sends you a mischievous look, before taking the situation into his own hands. his plush lips close around your clit, sucking it, while the tip of his tongue teases the tip of your clit. you let out a long and loud moan, body shuddering from the surge of intense pleasure.

"fuuuck-" you whine, hips hopelessly grinding against his tongue.

deciding it's enough, yunho flips you underneath him with a swift motion. "do you want to do this?"

"yes, please."

"then, i'll have to prepare you. since you asked so nicely."

he flips your dress over, exposing your wet bottom to the cool air. you shiver again, his jacket not helping much with the cold.

"this is going to hurt a little. i promise i'll be gentle."

you nod, then go back to abusing the poor blanket underneath you. you bite into it, feeling his long digits intrude your tight walls. it is unpleasant, but not that painful.

"that's a good girl. you're so wet for me, look how easily you're taking me."

he starts pumping in and out, squelching noises having you completely lose your mind and almost drool on the blanket. his fingers are long, very long. how will you survive his-?

"this good, darling?"

"yes."

"yes, what?"

"yes, sir." you moan out, hips moving along with his hand in hopes of more pleasure.

he doesn't speed up. being soft and slow seems to be his way of doing it, and it is a pace you are enjoying very much. it's not fast, like you do it. you do it to get rid of it. he does it for actual pleasure. when he removes his fingers, you can't help but whine at the loss of contact. he turns you around so that you lay on your back, facing him. his hair is a mess, much like yours, and he smiles lazily at you.

"my needy girl." he coos, pressing a kiss to your lips. "can i claim you, sweet thing?"

"what?"

"do you wish to be mine?"

do you? or is it just the horny speaking instead of you? either way, you might end up regretting. so you simply say:

"yes, sir."

"say my name, darling." he pulls himself out of his jeans, the tip of his cock running circles on your sensitive clit.

"yunho."

he hums, slipping his tip past your folds. "again."

"yunho," you gasp, feeling him inch by inch splitting you in half.

"again."

"yunho-"

"more."

"yunho," thrust, "yunho," thrust, "yunho!"

he gets lost in the feeling of your tight warm walls, hips snapping deep inside of you and driving you crazy. you get wetter by the second, even more when you see him so dizzy. it's nice to know that you have him in a chokehold as much as he has you.

"does it hurt?"

"no," you reply.

"that's because you're so perfectly made for me. look at you, you fit in the palm of my hand."

that's not true, obviously. but the way he says it makes you really feel that you could fit, and that you could stay protected there. his hips collide with yours, and your eyes roll back.

"such a pretty pussy," he growls, pace getting sloppier and slower. "wish i could do this all night long."

"me too," you moan.

his hands rip your dress apart, exposing your chest. his lips waste no time in attaching to your skin, leaving bite marks all over it, until reaching the tense nipples. he takes one in his mouth, tongue swirling around it, while his other hand plays with the other. your fingers find comfort in pulling his hair, subconsciously pushing his head into you further.

"my sweet peach," he coos, cock sliding in and out so easily, "my pretty girl."

"so sweet"

"even your moans are so beautiful"

"use me for your pleasure, darling"

you find yourself moving your hips along with his, only in a faster pace. you need to finally feel that orgasm. you feel something build up in the bottom of your stomach, and you're not sure what to do.

"yunho..."

"yes, my love?"

"i don't know how to- how to orgasm."

"you'll feel it. don't think about it. just relax, and let your body do it. let me do it."

you feel the buildup, then you lose it. again, and again, until you whine about it. yunho turns you around again, so that you are sitting on his lap. you feel him deep in your stomach, almost pulsating.

"let's try this."

he helps you up and down, rolls your hips, until he finds what works for you. you hover above him, hopelessly biting into his neck to contain your inappropriate noises. his hips snap into yours with a fast pace, finally hitting the spot you didn't know existed. the buildup starts again, this time not stopping. and when pleasure washes you over, you can't help but pull at yunho's hair mercilessly, moaning into his ear and letting yourself completely go. he helps you ride it out, waves of intense pleasure washing over you as yunho helps himself get closer.

"fuck, darling." he growls, pulling out of you.

"wait, what about you?"

"i'll just- i don't know."

his hand wraps around his cock, which is ready to unleash any moment. the man almost audibly gasps when he sees you kneel in front of him, innocently opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. just how did you know?

"are you sure?"

"positive."

"absolutely sure?"

"yunho?"

"yes?"

"please cum in my mouth."

and it's all it takes. yunho jerks himself on your tongue, or at least tries to. some of it ends up on your face, but you so carefully try to collect every single drop he gives you. you don't miss the way his head falls back, eyes rolling and low moans escaping his pretty lips. coming down from his high with one last pump and moan, he finally looks at you. the texture on your tongue is not the most pleasant one, but you decide to impress him further, and swallow it. he scoffs in disbelief, running a hand through his hair.

"you are just perfect, aren't you?"

in the morning, the ride back is much more comfortable. you still wear his hat, proudly, and his jacket. he can't help but kiss your shoulder as you ride, having it difficult enough to keep his hands off you. if only he could hold you in his pocket all day.

upon entering the town, you notice the people, your people, standing and waiting. would now be the right time to tell yunho you accept his offer?

he helps you dismount, before taking the revolver in his hand.

"what's this? a rebellion?" he says, mockingly.

"does she know?" your father asks, pointing at you.

you scrunch your eyebrows, looking between the two men. something shines in your fathers hand, and you realize he also holds a revolver.

"there is nothing to know." yunho replies, approaching him and standing in front of you. "you keep your mouth shut."

"oh, but there is. see, my little daughter, if you want to whore around, you could've picked anyone from the town. not your own mother's killer."

blood runs cold in your veins. the sun suddenly doesn't shine as bright anymore, and the man in front of you morphs into someone else. he turns around towards you, shaking his head. "no..."

"he shot her."

"you shot my father!"

"he deserved it!"

"no, the fuck he didn't!"

you step back, tears burning your eyes. did you really give yourself to the man who took your mother away from you? who also took your father away from you?

"listen-" yunho tries, hands reaching to touch you.

"don't touch me."

"he came here to finish the business. but he didn't count that he would fall for the daughter. what a clash of interests."

he doesn't deny it. and it only infuriates you more. so he did have an evil plan after all.

"you came for me, didn't you?" your father presses further, raising his revolver.

"no, i didn't." yunho replies, face changing from a guilty and sorry one to a neutral. "i came for her."

he grabs you by your shoulders, putting his hand over your mouth. you toss, scream, and whatnot, but what are you compared to his grip?

"i assume you won't care much if i took her away. but it would mean much to me. tit for tat."

"you are to never step foot into this town again. not you, not your companions."

yunho nods. and your father puts his weapon away. and it crashes your heart. you know you don't mean much to him, but to give you to an outlaw so easily?

"i came for what i wanted, not to worry. you won't see me ever again."

and just like that, you find yourself tied up and tossed over the black mare.

why did you ever wish for a life other than the one you had?

"you're all mine now, sunshine."

feedback greatly appreciated! <3

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night-raven-tattler · 5 months

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What's your ideal type?

Summary: What would be the best traits for their potential partner to have?

Characters: Octavinelle dorm (Azul, Jade, Floyd) × GN!Reader (separate, romantic)

Other parts of the series: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Warnings: none

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Azul's ideal type would be...

Someone witty. Azul is a smart guy who likes being entertained. While his way of achieving that is less... for lack of better words, aggressive than the tweels', he enjoys a good mental game. If you can carry a good conversation with him, he'll remember you.

Someone who doesn't pressure him into making decisions. He is someone whose independence is very important to him. On top of that, his signature spell literally revolves around choice as a concept, so he understand the importance of it. Someone as stubborn as Azul will keep his distance if anyone tries to influence his free will.

Someone who appreciates music. He's a pianist and a good singer, which are skills that require a lot of practice and hard work, something Azul is known for. He will appreciate any genuine praise, but if you ask him to teach you more about music or, Sevens forbid, you want to duet with him, all of his three hearts are yours.

Someone who doesn't mock him, not even when teasing him. If you really know Azul, you know how bitter he is towards the people who have brought suffering onto him. The words they said are ingrained into his brain, controlling his choices for years after they were spoken to him. I'm not saying to constantly uplift him, but bringing up old wounds will only push Azul away with low chances of getting any closer again.

『••✎••』

Jade's ideal type would be...

Someone whose next move he can't accurately predict. It's kind of easy to catch the attention of any of the tweels, but it's also easy to lose it. The key to keeping Jade's eyes on you is to make him believe he's had you all figured out, then do something unexpected. Being a little unpredictable, even when you think you're outside of Jade's vision, will pique his curiosity.

Someone who plays along his little tricks and schemes. Jade is not an honest person: he always has some ulterior motive, hidden behind carefully worded questions and statements that he uses to poke and prod for information. If you try to help him and his twisted game of detective, he will certainly find you amusing, if not helpful.

Someone who goes exploring with him. Just like his brother, Jade has a fascination for the land above water, and he loves learning things about the fauna and flora. Someone who understands his appreciation for nature and genuinely embraces his curiosity will have a bit more of his appreciation.

Someone who doesn't try to understand him. Jade is very careful not to reveal too much about himself. Being awfully private with himself, he won't open up to just anyone. So he will appreciate someone who doesn't try to pry into his business too much. At the end of the day, Jade can be many things: a bartender, a vice housewarden, an informant, but he'd like to be seen as "just Jade" sometimes.

『••✎••』

Floyd's ideal type would be...

Someone who isn't intimidated by him. It's a surefire way to catch his attention. Even if you just pretend to not be intimidated by him, he'll stick around and try to push all of your buttons, test your limits, squeeze all that he finds interesting out of you.

Someone willing to teach him more about land folks. Everyone knows that Floyd has quite the interest about land folks and their customs. He wants to know more, so don't be afraid to throw random land people things towards him every once in a while. If it's something he didn't know about, he'll tell you to prove it. Congrats, he won't leave your side for a couple of hours.

Someone who doesn't compare him to Jade. Since he's the more polite and responsible one, Floyd gets compared to his brother pretty often, and some people even assume he's the younger twin. It is exhausting to have his other half be given as example on how to behave time and time again. If you reassure him he doesn't have to be like his twin, that being Floyd is just fine, it'll pull at his heartstrings.

Someone who takes his mood swings in stride. From people thinking he is a threat to people who just find him annoying and hard to work with, no one really takes Floyd's mood swings seriously. That doesn't mean he'll open up if you asked him "are you okay" and "what happened". Still, it would be the first time someone outside of his family reacted like that to him. It will baffle him, in a good way.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader

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galedekarios · 16 days

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gale & karlach

i think out of all the dynamics between the companions, i've come to enjoy gale and karlach the most over my time with the game. karlach especially bc she's the only one who genuinely seems to care about and for gale.

she repeatedly checks in on him after the orb reveal and doesn't turn it into a joke about slurping carrots, or sipping wine, or wanting him to be gone entirely from the group.

not only does she advocate for him to stay three times, depending on which dialogue path you pick:

gale's background story reveal & the reveal about the netherese orb

Karlach: Come on. We all have our secrets - and our risks. If Gale leaves, we might as well disband completely. - Karlach: Absolutely. We're all risky in our own ways. We stick together anyway. Right? - Karlach: If having dangerous, otherworldly objects stuck in your skin is wrong, then Gale and I both have to go. We're not really splitting up, are we?

but she's also the only one who repeatedly asks him throughout the game how he is doing, to make sure how he's faring, both in general and with his debilitating condition:

act 2 - shadow-cursed lands banter

Karlach: Doing all right, Gale? Gale: Oh, you know... Still alive and kicking, despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay... devnote: Almost with a sigh. That's just how things are - Grim humour to it. Karlach: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.

act 3 - after mystra stabilised the orb

Karlach: How's the orb treating you, Gale? Gale: Oh, quite well as a matter of fact. Since it was stabilised, it's been humming along nicely. Gale: I have noticed one adverse side-effect. I seem to be losing hair in some, er, unexpected places. Karlach: I can only imagine.

i think it really bears repeating/stressing that no other companion does this. not one checks in on gale like karlach does, after his affliction has become known to his companions - with the exception of the protag potentially.

karlach also arguably has the strongest reaction in response to mystra's demands in act 2, showing again her care for gale, as well as her protective side:

Karlach: Aw, was that Gale's granddad? Player: That was Elminster Aumar - the most famous wizard in the realms. Karlach: Huh. Doesn't ring a bell. But all right! Must've had something important to say to Gale, if he came all this way. Good news, I hope. Player: I don't think it was. It turns out Gale has an explosive bomb in his chest - and Mystra has asked him to use it to blow up the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: Whoa, now. He's got a... well, I guess that would explain a little, but... Mystra... I mean, this is a lot to take in. Karlach: What's he going to do? - Player - Option 1: I think he's going to follow through with it. Karlach: Fuck me. There's devotion, and then there's stupidity. If the god of magic can't handle this without sacrificing Gale, she's no god at all. - Player - Option 2: I don't think he'd do that to himself, even if Mystra commanded it. Karlach: Good. I'm one hundred percent sure there's another way to bring down this cult. No true god would ask such a thing from her faithful. That's for certain. Karlach: Poor Gale. He must be in bits after hearing that. I'll distract him. Tell him I haven't read a book since secondary school, watch his face melt off. - Player - Option 3: I'm not sure. I think he's of several minds. Karlach: Well, tell him to pick the right one. Better yet, I'll do it. Fucking wizards, man! They always need help picking the simple, obvious option. Karlach: If Mystra can't think of another way to stop the Absolute than sacrificing Gale, she's no god worth worshipping. I'll say that to Gale - in, you know, gentle terms. - Player - Option 4: You know that bomb in Gale's chest? Mystra has asked him to use it to explode the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: She what?! Is she mad?! - Player - Option 5: Don't worry about it. Karlach: Karlach doesn't worry, she acts. So if Gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.

i particularly like that last response bc it really echoes throughout her relationship with gale ("karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.").

their banters are often playful, but also genuine. both karlach and gale tease each other, they joke with each other, showing how comfortable they are with each other despite their many differences, but there are also moments of understanding and care between them, allowing them to emphasise with each other:

Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who? Gale: She who thirsts buys drinks the first. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! devnote: Jockeying with Gale (prob supposed to be Joking with Gale) Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines.

Karlach: Just when I was getting used to the sky again... Gale: Fear not, Karlach. Sun, moon and stars will still be there waiting for us. devnote: Reassuring Karlach: Meanwhile, this place is pretty spectacular, isn't it? Gale: No book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice. But perhaps our stories might, when we return to the surface. devnote: Agreeing with Karlach, enjoying the sense of wonder as you explore

Gale: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. Gale: Passionate, primal, capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort, or inflicting the profoundest damage. devnote: Listing the qualities of fire, Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Karlach: That's... pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But now I will.

Karlach: Wouldn't mind a dancing axe of my own. Gale: A simple movement charm wouldn't be too hard to apply to such an object. I could conjure one up for you if you like? Karlach: Yes! I like! Gale: Very wel then. Once the city is saved, Karlach's Kinetic Cleaver will be first on my list.

Karlach: So, Gale - got any book recommendations for me?devnote: With concern Gale: You can read?! devnote: Taking the piss - knows full well Karlach can read, and that she's always claimed not to enjoy it Karlach: Very funny. Yes - I can read. School put me off big boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing. devnote: Friendly rather than flirtatious Gale: Say no more - I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep. devnote: Jumping on the opportunity to give a book recommendation (a favourite hobby) Karlach: Ooh! Something with magic, please. And no devils.

even at his most vulnerable moments, karlach is there to support him:

before the stormshore tabernacle audience with mystra

Karlach: You can do this, Gale. And I'll be right here when you're done.

she allows herself to be protective of him and get angry on his behalf not after when it comes to mystra, but also when he is potentially kidnapped by orin:

karlach's reaction to gale being kidnapped

Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.

once again, it's a good callback to her previous line: "karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me."

she's willing to be needed by him - and he does need her. whether that is as a friend, or (if you chose to play so during an origin pt) as a romantic partner. it's a lovely dynamic either way.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #karlach #karlach cliffgate #karlach x gale #gale x karlach #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #ch: gale dekarios #ch: karlach #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3 #i wanted to focus on a dynamic where a friend/partner focuses on gale #bc from what i see very often #that is neglected entirely #and often focuses more or completely on what gale can do for another #anyhow i love them

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ashtxrie · 2 months

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incognito mode (heeseung)

PAIR. classmate!heeseung x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, implied strangers to lovers WORD COUNT. 1.0k WARNINGS. none! IN WHICH: heeseung receives drawings from an anonymous admirer who decides to not be so anonymous anymore...

heeseung finds the first drawing when he opens his locker, a yellow post-it note among his books and papers. he doesn’t think much of it, not until he pulls out his textbook and it flutters to the ground, landing near his feet.

there’s something on the back, so he bends to pick it up and freezes. there’s a raccoon staring at a hamster opening up his locker, a small speech bubble above the raccoon.

i wish you’d notice me...

heeseung smiles despite himself, tucking the note back into his locker.

he finds the second drawing when he’s standing in line for coffee and rummages in his pocket for spare change. he finds two five-dollar bills, and absent-mindedly hands them to the woman with an outstretched palm, who then hands him his drink.

heeseung is more interested in the slip of paper he feels tucked and folded in his pocket, and he quickly thinks back through his entire day and realizes he has no idea how someone’s managed to put it there.

he pulls it out as he takes a sip of his coffee, hissing as it burns his tongue.

the drawing’s cute, it’s a raccoon staring at the same hamster with hearts in their eyes.

heeseung looks at it for a few moments, then folds it back up, sticking it back in his pocket. he doesn’t realize he’s smiling until he catches sight of his reflection in the windows, and thinks he looks uncharacteristically happy.

the third drawing he finds is during class when he flips his textbook open, frowning as he notices something tucked in one of the chapters in the back of the book. he flips forward, eyes widening as he sees another post-it note.

it’s the same raccoon, staring at the hamster curiously. there’s another thought bubble hovering over the raccoon.

do you like the drawings? i wish you’d talk to me.

heeseung smiles and holds the drawing closer, turning it around to see if there’s any trace of the artist. there isn’t, and heeseung frowns.

how am I supposed to talk to you if I have no idea who you are?

the fourth drawing is tucked into his palm as he’s passing through classes, and heeseung whirls around, eyes wide.

“wait,” he calls, but he doesn’t know who he’s talking to, doesn’t know who to look for.

he’s met with blank faces of people walking past him, and his face falls.

he was so close. so close to figuring out who it was.

he moves to stand somewhere near the edge of the hallway, unfolding the paper. he stares at it for a while, folding and unfolding the paper.

the drawing’s split into two halves. on one side the raccoon presents the hamster with the drawing, beaming. on the other half, the one heeseung has been staring at for minutes, is of the raccoon hiding behind a wall and watching the hamster opening the paper.

heeseung sighs, then sticks his hands in his pocket and walks outside.

the next week, heeseung seems uncharacteristically quiet, and he looks at the first drawing he’s taped to the door of his locker.

he doesn’t know why he’s kept it there, but somehow it makes him feel a little less lonely. he supposes it’s because he hasn’t gotten a drawing in a while.

he frowns as someone bumps into him, and heeseung drops his books. he grumbles and reaches to pick everything up, frowning as he searches for the drawing he’d been holding in his hands.

his eyes widen and he swallows. he didn’t lose it, did he?

someone clears their throat and heeseung looks up, curious to see the person who’d bumped into him holding his last book and the drawing in their other hand. “here,” you say, “i'm sorry.”

heeseung blinks, then breathes out in relief. “thanks.”

you smile warmly, then point to the drawing that heeseung is nearly cradling. “did you draw that?” there seemed to be a knowing lilt in your voice, but the boy in front of you doesn't quite catch it.

heeseung looks up again. “oh, this?” he shrugs. “no, i’ve just been finding them everywhere.”

you laugh. “do you like them, at least?”

heeseung smiles, and part of him is wondering why the hell he’s talking so naturally to someone he’s barely even met. but he does. “yeah. although i’m offended that i’m a hamster.” he grins. “i think i’m more of a deer, at least.”

you laugh again, and heeseung thinks he could talk to you forever. “a deer,” you shake your head, eyes curved to crescents. “okay.”

heeseung stands up again. “i’m heeseung, by the way.”

you smile, and heeseung thinks your eyes are rather pretty. “[name]. i’m [name].”

when heeseung sees the fifth drawing, he loses his shit. he opens up his locker and sees another drawing folded so small that heeseung doesn’t see it until it falls out. he picks it up, his eyes widening.

the raccoon is laughing as the hamster puts deer antlers on its head as a headband.

you’re still a hamster, it says in the text bubble above the raccoon.

heeseung walks out of school late, and pauses as he sees you lingering by the bus stop, standing up to stare at the vending machine.

heeseung can feel his breath in his throat, feels the drawing clenched between his fingers, and he marches toward you.

you turn at the last second, eyes warm. there’s a moment of surprise as you see heeseung, and he thinks you nearly look scared.

but heeseung pulls you toward him and wraps his arms around you. he hears your small gasp of surprise, before you hug him back tighter. so he figured it out, huh? took long enough.

"it was you?" he says, softly. tentatively, as if afraid he was wrong.

you hum and smile at him. "you found me."

"and for the record, you'll always be a hamster to me. you were the sad hamster personified when the teacher said you couldn't eat your instant ramen in class last week."

"i-- hey! ... whatever. at least i look cute in your drawings."

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen blurbs #enhypen fic #enhypen heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #heeseung fluff #heeseung fic #ashtxrie #— ash writes!

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potionpeddlerpatchy · 1 year

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word count: 8.9K

paring: Wolf!Bakugou x fReader

warning(s): cunnilingus, marking (biting and claws), loss of virginity, loss of innocence, some blood (very minor and only mentioned briefly), and dirty talking/slight degradation.

authors note: well, hello again! I'm currently in the middle of writing something new, but I figured it might be a good idea to repost some of my favourite works from my old blog here - especially this one (and another one soon) as I will be adding a sort of continuation to this story; so best to have both in one place - just to tide you over until new pieces are done. Besides I am quite fond of this one, spun three wheels to get prompts (dialog of “Can I just hold your hand?” the trope of Fake Dating, and the AU being Fantasy). I've always enjoyed how this turned out, though it is one of my first works so apologies if it doesn't have the same caliber, and I hope you all do too - I know Bakugou is quite the favourtie~ 🔮

You weren’t from around here.

Bakugou could tell the moment you entered this seedy tavern, the way your boots clicked against the old wood made his ear shift to your direction, His whole head following suit when he could smell the sweet scent that sat on your skin.

You stuck out like a sore thumb. Maybe not to all the other low lives that surround this place, but Bakugou could tell. Your clothing, though it seemed to match that of the other women around, was too well-tailored; the cloth too fine and expensive and the leather used was not worn enough.

And you had jewels; real ones he could tell. Though you did hide them well, he just had very good eyesight. And really that was the main reason he kept his gaze on you. He wouldn’t mind snagging a few of them for himself; it would allow him to live comfortably for a while – and you could spare a few, couldn’t you?

But there was also a hint of curiosity too; a noble-born on the run? What kind were you exactly? A runaway Princess perhaps? No. He rolled his eyes at himself for the thought – there weren’t nearly enough royal guards around searching for you and causing a ruckus for you to be that.

But there were a few. So perhaps a Countess or even a Duchess? His money was on the latter. The way you carried yourself was not as self-assured and haughty as those that were countesses. If he remembered correctly, those women always flaunted their wealth because they had something to prove.

But the way you sat down and paid for a drink made it clear you didn’t have anything to prove; so, a countess you were not.

You were a pretty thing too. A beauty like you didn’t come around these parts often, and Bakugou couldn’t help but want to continue to look at you. He wasn’t the only one, all these lecherous creatures that were around kept glancing your way – their excitement clear as the whole place grew rowdier.

Not like they had a chance with you, not in hell. They would have to stick with the barmaids and brothels full of women to satisfy any of their barbaric needs. And though Bakugou was technically a part of these grotesque creatures, he was more human than anything; most wolves were. If anyone had a chance it was definitely him.

He knew he was good-looking, could probably pass for a Prince himself if it weren’t for the stupid ears, claws, and tail that held him back. Reduced him to living with others like him on the outskirts of the land, to be treated as a lesser than. That’s why he always found joy whenever a noble, like you, wandered around his turf. He loved scaring them, the frightened expressions as they tried to weakly defend themselves always proved that they were the ones that were beneath him.

But you were different. Bakugou didn’t want to scare you into giving him what he wanted, he wanted you to give it willingly.

“It’s rude to stare.” You mumbled, as you picked up the large mug placed before you and brought the frothy drink up to your lips.

“You’re not gonna like it.” Bakugou replied, eyes moving back to stare at his drink, swirling it, like he was doing before you walked in.

You just rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head lightly before taking a sip. The froth was nice and fizzy, but the rest of it all was the most bitter thing you ever placed in your mouth. You grimaced as it slid down your throat, making it burn all the way down to your stomach. You held back your coughs in defiance of the stranger beside you, not wanting to prove that he was right.

“Told you.” He chuckled, his tone mocking as he downed the rest of his drink, he rested the glass back down heavily on the counter before him “It’s the most bitter thing in this whole world, but it gets you messed up the fastest. But I don’t think you knew that, did you, princess?”

“Don’t call me that….” You mumble, bringing the glass back up to your lips – though it was awful it was helping you blend in more “M’not a princess”

“Could have fooled me.” Bakugou purred as he slunk closer to you, forgetting his glass entirely “Then what are you exactly?”

Your exasperated sigh just made his grin, wolfish and almost feral, spread wider on his face as he leaned on the bar counter; your arms almost touching. You shuffled as much as you could away from the stranger, his breath reeked of alcohol, and you weren’t overly comfortable with how close his face was to yours.

“A traveler, just like you.” You kept your tone pointed, trying your best to prove to this stranger that you didn’t want to talk to him or have him as close as he was.

“No, you’re not.”

“Oh really, now?” You asked through gritted teeth, unable to stop your angry gaze to fall back onto him and his shaking head “And how would you know?”

“These clothes….” He started picking at the wrist of your cotton sleeve, sharp claws ran delicately up and down your forearm “Are too nice, too well-tailored. If you really were a traveler then they wouldn’t be as clean and pristine. They would look more rugged like that chick over there.”

You followed his head movement to where a woman, surrounded by a few men around a dark wooden table, sat drinking merrily – not caring that with each shove and playful push would cause half their ale to slosh onto the floor. But the stranger was right, though her clothing looked nearly identical to you, it wasn’t quite as polished. Loose strings would hang off cuffs and hems, the colouring of the fabrics was more dull, not as vibrant. She looked like she had traveled across many lands, you looked like you just started.

“And” You tensed when you felt his breath in your ear and his hand wandering to your waist “Not many people around here have trinkets such as yours.”

You gulped, throat suddenly very dry, as you looked back at his face; the glint in his eyes made you even more nervous. A lamb suddenly in the jaws of the wolf.

“Are you going to rob me?” You asked, voice trembling. Fright filled your being and shook your body in his loose hold, as you watch him lick his lips “Are you going to hurt me?”

“No.” He chuckled, mirth feeling his being over your frightened state “I’m just wondering who you are, and why you showed up here.”

“Why?”

“Call it curiosity.” He shrugged his shoulders, eyes darting towards the entrance of the tavern; watching briefly as two well-dressed and armed men entered “And you better tell me quickly before they figure out you’re here.”

Your head darted to the entrance as well, eyes widening in fear as you saw the insignia engraved on their chest plates; there was no doubt they were here for you. And that bastard who wouldn’t let you go knew it too.

“Can I just hold your hand?”

“What!?” You whipped your head back as you watched him pull away from you, your breathing quickening in pace as your heart was thumping loudly in your chest that you knew that he could hear it.

“Just take my fucking hand!” He hissed at you, a hand quickly grasping yours before you really had a chance to reach it out to him.

He slunk his other arm so it was now encircled around your waist as he nodded his head at your drink; silently asking you to hold it up for him. You did with a shaky hand, the proximity of his entire being – having it wrapped around you like this – was making your cheeks flush red. You had never been this intimate with a man before, let alone with a stranger. It was all so incredibly overwhelming, it didn't help that being this close only made you realize how attractive he really was.

You wanted to take your eyes off his face, especially when you watched his tongue peek out from his lips to lick around his mouth at the few drops of your drink that spilled out due to your clumsy hand not keeping it steady. You could see his eyes darken and it made you want to shy away; out of fear or something else, you were not sure - the weird sensation that flushed your body was foreign and frightening.

You almost forgot all about the armed men hunting for you until you heard one call out to the pair of you; two pairs of boots rushing to where you sat. You wanted to let out a sigh of relief when his eyes moved from your face; but held back the urge.

“What?” His gruff tone proved he was agitated as he glared daggers at them, almost smirking when he saw them be taken aback by him.

“Excuse your tone!” One of them spoke first, chest-puffing out to look more intimidating than he was. “You do not speak that way to a royal guard!”

“Well, sorry” His mocking tone countered the apology “But I don’t appreciate having you assholes ruining the moment I was sharing.”

“Well, that woman-!” The other interjected, clearly not as afraid as his partner as he got into the stranger's face “Is the runaway Duchess of House L/N! And we are on direct orders to bring her back!”

‘Ah, so you were a Duchess’ Bakugou thought to himself as a smirk crept its way on his face; both out of knowing his assumption about you was right and from this dick of a man who thought he could take him on for size.

“Do you really fucking think that?”

“Don’t speak to me that way.” The man’s tone was dark, his teeth on display as he started to draw his sword out, to prove he meant serious business.

“Then don’t speak to me like that!” Bakugou snarled, fangs on display to show he also meant serious business “Or threaten me in front of my mate! Continue to do it and I’ll rip your throat out right here and now.”

The low, continuous, growl that was coming from his chest was breaking the guard’s tough façade – though it was barely noticeable. But Bakugou could tell that he was getting a little frightened by him, especially when he glanced towards your profile and saw you trembling with fear. Though he couldn’t stare at you for long as he watched a clawed hand place itself at the back of your head and pull you into his chest.

“If she really was the person you’re claiming her to be, then why the fuck would she be in here? Why would she be in a situation like this? Why would she let a beast like me this close?” Bakugou narrowed his eyes at the two men before, as if to challenge his logic wrong.

You both could see, though your vision was limited, the guard’s hand trembling on the hilt of his sword; clearly taking this stranger’s word as fact and now debating what to do next. Bakugou could see the conflict in his eyes – clearly not knowing if he should harass the two of you or move one. His partner, on the other hand, took a step away.

“That’s what I fucking thought.” Bakugou muttered, his eyes watching the weaker of the two, “Now if you’re done threatening us, I suggest you leave before this gets real fucking messy”

You had to commend his acting, truly, as the more brash guard stood upright. He muttered something under his breath, though you couldn’t hear, before both pairs of boots walked sullenly away from you; the footsteps becoming harder to hear the further they went until you couldn’t hear them anymore. A sign that they had left the tavern. The coast now being clear.

“They bought it?” You whispered, pulling yourself more upright as you looked towards where they left.

“Of course, they did” He shrugged, taking your drink once more and downing the last of it “They’re not smart. Besides….” You felt sharp claws take a gentle purchase under your chin to turn your head back to him “They wouldn’t want to fight someone like me”

“Aren’t you full of yourself?” You scoffed, moving away from him fully now. Your mind now coming back to you.

“A ‘you’re welcome’ would be fucking appropriate right now, sweetness. Especially seeing as I risk my life to get you out of that bind.”

You felt him grip your wrist again, and when you looked up at him you could see that same self-satisfied smirk back on his face. It made you roll your eyes and look away once more, a clear look of displeasure on your face as your lips formed a scowl.

He was right, he had helped you out of a really tough bind. His on-the-spot thinking meant that you didn’t have to go back to your home kicking and screaming within those guards’ hold. But, at the same time, he kept touching you without permission. Along with his full-of-himself attitude made saying your gratitude feel as bitter as that liquid burning down your throat.

“Thank you.” You finally managed to mutter out, pulling your hand away from his grip, your scowl deepening further.

“That muuuuuch better!” He cooed, his mocking tone made you ball your fists in anger; but that seemed to only spur him on even more “Now come on, pay up.”

“Pay up…?” You mumbled, your eyebrows furrowing as confusion replaced the annoyance “What…?”

“You owe me, sweetness. Did you a huge favor, now you’re gonna repay me in kind” His arms crossed over his chest that was now puffed out in overconfidence “I can think of a few ways you can too, though let’s start with why those losers were after you in the first place, duchess.”

You sighed; you knew that you had no real choice in the matter, there was no way you were getting out of this. He was strong, and though it was a little hard to tell due to his olive coat and baggy clothing, you were sure he could easily overpower you without breaking a sweat. And well, you weren’t made to fight.

“Fine. I –“ You began, only for one of his fingers to press against your lips; effectively shushing you from speaking further.

“Not here, sweetness” He smirked, enjoying that his little nickname made your nostrils flare in annoyance. “As much as I would love to see you plastered off your ass, I’ve had enough of those low-life extras staring at you.”

He tilted his head towards the other patrons. And true to his word a lot of them were giving you, what they thought were sneaky, glances your way. It could be due to the display that just occurred with those guards stomping your way and causing a scene, but with the suggested undertones of the stranger's words made you question those glances as innocent curiosity.

“Good idea…” You nodded, pulling your head away when you felt the tip of his claw tickle your nose.

You watched him get to his feet, offering you his hand after he got a few paces ahead of you; as if realizing that you didn’t know where he was going. You gingerly took hold of his hand and allowed him to pull you from your seat to stand before him. It was at that moment you realized just how tall and imposing he was compared to you. He didn’t really seem that way when he was hunched over the bar counter, but now? Well, it was enough to make a shiver run down your spine when he loomed over you with that wolfish smirk as he wrapped his arm around you and began to lead you out of the seedy place.

“W-wait!” You whispered; voice frantic as you tried to gain some sense of control over this less-than-ideal situation you found yourself in “I need to know your name before we go any further.”

You heard him huff out an annoyed groan, bringing his free hand up to pass through his hair before it fell limply at his side. “It’s Bakugou, now come on.”

He didn’t give you any time to say anything else, or really to process what he just said. His name only ran through your head with certainty when you felt the cool summer night’s air hit your face.

It was cold.

And damp. Though it was to be expected to some degree in the dense forest you were currently being dragged within. It put you on edge, every little thing that moved and seemed to whisper through the branches; made you tense and cause your breath to quicken at points.

Though after the first little leg of the journey you felt silly for being so afraid. Arguably the most fearsome creature within these forests was the one that was walking beside you in the first place, so really what harm could befall you if you had him on your side?

Bakugou.

He was leading you through this place with expert ease like he had done this thousands of times before to the point where it was more memory than thinking. To where, you were not sure, but given the familiarity and ease you could only assume he was leading you to his home; or den, or cave, or wherever it was a creature like him would rest his head.

The moment you began walking, out of earshot of all those around, he asked you to tell your tale; wanting to fill the silence and hear just what led you here in the first place. And though he was quite chatty at the tavern just moments prior, he was quiet now. Trudging along like it was a chore. Listening to you with almost disinterest even though he was the one curious about your situation in the first place.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t listening or found it boring. He was just lost in thought at the details of your story. How overly complicated life was like at court. All those rules and regulations on how to do the most mundane of things, like living and eating, all boiling down to a miserable, controlled, and boring life.

He didn’t envy you at all. If he had to wake up every day and be told what to wear, how to wear it, how to eat, how to talk to people, he may have just ended it all and run away too. No amount of wealth was worth living in such a way.

Though his interest peaked when you brought up the engagement. The straw that broke the camel’s back as it were; the whole reason you ran off in the first place. It caused his ear to stand pointed atop his head as he listened to your mutterings as best he could.

Enji Todoroki, that was the man who had asked for your hand. That was the man your parents more than willingly threw you out to if it meant more land to their name. Bakugou almost laughed at the sudden shift in your tone when speaking about him, with such anger and disdain. A far cry from the soft-spoken women you were moments prior.

But you couldn’t help it. You didn’t want to marry this cruel man. You didn’t want to be sold out to him like cattle simply for more prosperity for your family. The only reason he was interested was because you were a pretty young face, nothing more really.

It made Bakugou roll his eyes. Of course, Enji would be asking for your hand, even someone like him knew the habits of that old man. One recently separated from his wife and was now looking for a younger, prettier, bride. It was all people could gossip about for months. Wondering which woman he was going to propose to – and well it seemed like it was you.

It was ridiculous really. Not only could he be your father, but he also had sons that were of marrying age. In fact, a more suitable match would be for you to marry one of them. You knew that Shoto was your age, and it would still lead to fortune for your family as he would inherit plenty.

But no. Your parents wanted your life, your destiny, to be tied to the older man. To breed and bear his children until another younger and more beautiful thing came around. It happened to his previous wife, and you knew it would happen to you.

“I deserve more.” You declared, your rant about the whole situation over “I won’t even say I deserve love. I just want to be with someone who at least respects me, and I can tolerate sitting in a room with.”

You let out a loud sigh, glancing at your companion who was still as quiet and unreadable as when you started. The only thing that indicated that he was still listening, or just remembering your presence, was the small hums of acknowledgment he would give every now and then.

“I don’t think that’s too much to ask…” You mumble out, feeling slightly awkward from the silence that had now befallen you.

“Your life is ridiculous.” Bakugou finally muttered, bringing a hand up to move a branch out of his way “No wonder you want to fucking leave it. I wouldn’t wanna spend one day as you, let alone deal with that bullshit.”

He had a way with words, one that made you chuckle at how brash and crude they were. No one dared speak that way at court, let alone around a lady. But you found it refreshing that he didn’t care; that he spoke what was on his mind regardless of decorum. That he was honest.

“What are you smiling at?” Bakugou asked, tone irritated as he looked down at you – hating the way your lips turn upwards in that annoying little grin.

“Nothing…” You giggled out, your tone going up in a teasing way as you turned away from him. “You just talk differently.”

“Eh!? What do you mean by that!” He yelled, stepping ahead, and blocking your path with ease.

“I-I don’t mean any harm by it!” You held your hands up in defense to prove your point further “I like it actually…”

The way you mumbled out the last part, and how you bashfully moved your head to look downwards made the man before you smirk. That wolfish grin was back on his face, one that you didn’t know whether you missed or hated, as he leaned down to breathe in your ear. The way you shivered slightly when it hit your ear did not go unnoticed by him.

“If you like that, then you’ll love the way I sound when - !”

You pushed past him before he could even think of finishing that thought; catching him off guard if the little grunt was any indication. Your whole being was too flustered to even want to know where his mind was going.

“D-don’t!” You warned, your voice still sounding nervous but the volume it was at was proof you meant serious business “I don’t want to know!”

You were cute like this, Bakugou couldn’t deny. A little thing so easily flustered by him was refreshing, and it made the animal in him roar loudly. Oh, what he would do to something like you. He would absolutely wreck you, ruin any little part of innocence you had left within you.

His motive now changed. He no longer wanted your trust so you could give him those jewels that were tucked neatly away. He wanted something more precious, more untainted than money. But he would have to play it smart if he were ever going to obtain it.

“Come on,” Bakugou rolled his eyes, trying to seem unfazed by your little outburst “It’s only a little further ahead.”

“What is?” You asked, fidgeting on the spot as you watched him walk ahead and away from you once more – his arm pulling back a branch to clear the path before you.

“My house, dumbass. I want to get out of the cold as soon as possible, so hurry up!”

You didn’t hesitate to scramble yourself forward; feet trying their best to move as quickly as they could to heed his command. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to get out of the cold night’s air and get some rest. Even if it was in the home of the strange man-wolf in front of you.

~ ~ ~

His home was not what you expected it to be.

Not at all.

It was cozy. A small cottage that seemed just the right size for someone to live in comfort, but not with too much space to spare. It looked soft too, the upholstered chairs, his bed, even the bear-skinned rug before his fireplace, all looked so soft. That if you were to touch them you would delve into them – sinking eternally in their plushness.

It really was what you wanted most. You had been running all day, and after that walk through the forest to get here, only proved just how worn your feet and body had become. You sighed out in relief once you had the chance to take off those dreaded boots; watching in curiosity at the wolf before as he placed birch logs into the open maw of the fireplace. Humming constantly when those logs burned and quickly filled the home with a gentle warmth.

“Get over here.” You heard Bakugou growl out, watching him in confusion as he rested back on his haunches; elbows resting on his knees as he rubbed his hands together at the flickering flames.

“Come on!” He urged again, head finally snapping back to you. Rolling his eyes at the witless expression on your face as you continued to stand uncomfortably at his threshold “I know you’re cold, so hurry and get yourself warm.”

You nodded your head, scrambling once more to heed his command. Feet padding gently on the wooden floor before it was muted by the softness of the fur before the fire. When you sat, you couldn��t stop yourself from running your hands through the dense fur, marveling at how it felt under your fingertips. This was possibly the only time you would ever get to touch this kind of beast, and you were going to enjoy it as much as you could.

Though, after a few moments the lure of the fire called your name. Your cold bones were unable to resist the temptation and you found yourself with outstretched arms towards it. Enjoying the warm glow as flames almost seemed to lick and nip at your fingertips.

“What’s your next step?” Bakugou asked, unable to keep himself quiet. Not when he had you all to himself once more “You’re staying the night, obviously. But after that.”

His tone made it clear that it wasn’t up for debate on whether or not you would find shelter here for the night or continue on your way. Not that you were complaining. You would spend every day here in the warm solitude this small cottage provided.

“I’m not sure…” You finally whispered out, after pondering that question in your head for a few moments. “To be honest I didn’t expect to get this far…”

You saw the look he gave you; it was a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. Like he couldn’t believe that you truly had no plan, no thoughts on where you might go and do, as you figured the moment you started to run you would be caged again. It made you pull your hands back into your lap, fidgeting with them nervously, clearly showing you were a little embarrassed by your truth.

“He’s a powerful man.” You reasoned, trying to get him to understand “And I have never known life outside of my family’s estate and court. I wasn’t expecting to get far with the little knowledge I had. Or with his hounds on my tail…”

You chuckled, Bakugou joining you for a moment as well, remembering those idiotic guards you had crossed paths with. How useless they were. Though, after tonight you knew more would be spread out in an attempt to find you. And as the man before you had stated the moment he met you, you stuck out in a crowd. So really, where could you go to hide?

“I have nowhere to go.” You finally admitted, shaking your head. You had been foolish to even think that this would work in the first place “Even if I were able to slip through the border, someone would alert them of me once I tried to sell my jewels. Or they would take them and sell me out for the bounty that will surely be over my head soon.”

“So what? That’s it?” Bakugou retorted, bewilderment in his tone at how easily you were accepting defeat “All that work just to go running back with your tail between your legs!?”

“I don’t have a choice!” You snapped back, eyes narrowing back at his own “I have no friends outside these walls. Only those that wish to see me go back to that horrid fate for a quick coin! Much like you!”

“I don’t want your stupid jewels anymore!” Bakugou defended, hands turning into fists at your truthful accusation – claws digging into his palms.

“So what? You still wanted them the first moment you saw them! Who is to say someone else won’t rob me for what I have on me, and leave me penniless and stranded? Or worse…”

You shook your head at those horrid thoughts. Not wanting to think of those dark and twisted outcomes that may befall you if you were to continue out of these woods. And though returning back to that man was not a fate you wished to have, it was better than whatever may come to you if you continued.

“The safest outcome for me is going back….”

You whispered your sealed fate; taking in a shaky breath to try and calm yourself down, trying your best to ignore the crimson eyes that stared intently at you. Though those breaths quickly turned heated as anger clouded your mind. You threw your fists against the rug as you let out a wail of frustration and anger over that decision; a foot kicking out to topple the small stack of wood that sat before you.

“It’s just not fair!” You declared through clenched teeth “It’s my life! Why can’t I have any say in how it will go!? Why do I have to marry that bastard?”

You took one glance at the man beside you, searching his eyes for some sort of answer. When you could not find one, you sighed out once more before bringing your knees to your chest, resting your chin upon them like a pouting child.

“If you’re gonna have to go back…” You heard Bakugou, his tone softer as if in sympathy for you, as he raked his brain for that solution you were hoping for “Then get even with them.”

“What?” You softly questioned, your face turning back to him – that wolfish grin was back, and it made you nervous at what he was going to say next.

“If you’re gonna have to marry that asshole no matter what. Then the best way to get back at them all is to give up that sweet virtue of yours. And what better ‘fuck-you’ would it be if you gave it to someone like me?”

Your mouth went dry at his words, finding it near impossible to swallow that lump that was now in your throat. He wanted you to do something that was ingrained into you since childhood as sacred; something only to be done to by the person you were to be bound with for the rest of your living days on this land.

And the almost casual way he brought it up, accompanied by those burning eyes – ones that made the fire before you seem mild in comparison – meant that this wasn’t his first time in seducing a lady; to ask her to keep him company for the night.

But a part of you couldn’t help but be seduced by it all. By the thought of going against tradition, against your family, and especially against that man that already broken the sacred oaths before; so why shouldn’t you? Why should you deny yourself this one, and only, rebellion you could dish out? Why should you deny yourself to feel the touch of this handsome man before you? One that seemed to want to give you, probably, the only night of passion and enjoyment you will ever receive?

You couldn’t.

And that was probably why you felt your heart nearly explode in your chest, as a fire ignited in your belly once you felt his warm and slightly chapped lips touch yours.

Your whole body seemed to melt when you felt his palm reach up to caress your cheek and pull you closer, and deeper, into the sweet kiss. A gesture that seemed so small, yet it showed to you a level of tenderness that he had yet to openly give you since you met him. It made you want to return his kiss with fervor.

Bakugou chuckled at your eagerness, finding it endearing at your clumsy and inexperienced actions that were hidden behind your enthusiasm. It meant that you wanted this. And if you wanted this, then it meant that he could show you a night you will never forget. One that you would remember every single time that old bastard took you into his bed at night – that whenever he took you, you would only be reminded of him instead.

That thought made Bakugou growl deep within his chest. For some reason, he really hated that thought. And when he pulled away from the kiss, he couldn’t help himself but duck lower, to your neck, and start to leave his mark on the untouched flesh.

Your whimpers doing nothing but spur him on. He wanted to hear every little sound you could make; wanted you to hear you wail, moan, and scream his name. The animal in him was being set loose, and he was trying his hardest to not let it run free. Though it was proving harder to do when he felt your trembling hands tug at his coat, feeling your hands slip under the fur of his collar to the smooth skin underneath it.

“Kiss me again” You breathlessly whispered to him, your hands pushing down on his neck to bring him closer “Please?”

Bakugou was unable to suppress his low groan at your words, as he brought his head away from your neck back up to yours. Lips clashing with yours in a messy kiss, one that he dominated easily. Who was he to say no to such a pretty request?

Your kisses become more urgent, almost hurried as the moments pass. Unable to let each other part for too long, even if it was to breathe. A part of it was because his lips felt so wonderful on yours, a tantalizing sensation that left you tingling all over. But the other reason was out of bashfulness. Unable to let yourself fully part from him, to look at him, as he slowly untied and unbuckled every piece of clothing you had.

His touches were gentle. The way his fingertips, and claws, would slightly drag over your skin, like a butterfly’s kiss, made goosebumps appear in their wake. Made you shiver and let out shaky breaths as you parted from one another. Your breath mingling with his, and allowing this reprieve, to fully undress.

You bit your tender lip when you felt his heated gaze wash over your skin. It made you squirm; made you place your hands around your chest to hide from his piercing gaze. Unable to stand the heat of it.

He truly was a predator that caught himself a prize, at least that’s how it seemed when he looked at you. He certainly didn’t appreciate you hiding your beautiful skin from him, your wonderful body. A low growl, one that almost mimicked the warning he gave to those guards an hour prior, rumbled into his chest as he pulled your arms away from your chest.

His grasp was firm, but not painful, you could feel the warning in it; telling you to not do something similar again as he laid your nearly bare form down onto the fur. Pinning your arms above your head

“Keep them there.” Bakugou commanded, his rumbling voice that resembled gravel made it clear to you that you had to obey.

And obey you did. You relaxed your arms and turned your wrist inwards as your fingers once again threaded through the bear’s fur. Trying your best to keep yourself grounded, avoiding becoming too sheepish, as to let him continue his ministries.

Swift hands made quick work of your skirts, ridding them and causing you to lay bare before him; the first man to ever see you this was since you were a babe. His gaze was telling more than words ever could at just how wonderful you seemed to look. And though you couldn’t keep eye contact with him for long, he could see the heat in your eyes as well once he started to shed his garments. That smug smirk was the main reason you turned your head away.

Bakugou’s hands started tracing your collarbone, following it along from shoulder to shoulder. His lips came down onto it a moment later to lavish it with wet kisses. You could feel his smirk on your skin when he nipped at a particularly tender spot, enjoying how your hips bucked up slightly into his own.

He was enjoying this as much as you. If the slight breeze of air that came in contact with your legs, the slight brush of coarse hair, caused by the wagging of his tail was any sign. It made you giggle breathless as you watched the appendage pick up speed the lower his lips descended on your body.

He kept up this tender care all throughout your chest. Slowly moving his hands downward, his lips following moments later over the swell of your breasts, allowing the soft kisses to distract you as his fingers pinched at your hardening nipples.

Your mewls spurred him on to take one of the hardened buds into his mouth, eyes glancing up to see if you were liking the way his tongue flicked over it rapidly. Chuckling when you arched your back, and let out a keen, over what he was doing to you. That needy whine sent shivers straight to his cock, as it bobbed up against his stomach.

It was only when his hands slipped themselves down in between your legs that you moved your hands to grasp his wrist. The combination of the low groan that left his mouth mixed with all the wetness that found itself on your thighs was too much for you.

“I said!” Bakugou growled once more, speaking to you through clenched teeth “Keep your hands out of the way.”

He pried your hands off his wrist and moved them once again, this time to rest at your sides. And though you closed your eyes once more in embarrassment, he kept his eyes trained on your face when pressed his hands moved behind your knees to pull them up and apart – baring your weeping cunt to the fire's light.

“Look at me.”

It was hard for you to follow his request, a whimper escaping your throat to show your unease, but finally opening your eyes when he asked once more, tone soft and gentle, to look back down at him. He was handsome and looked so alluring with his hair all mused and ears pointed in between your legs, as he gently caressed your plush thighs in a comforting manner.

You couldn’t help the gasp that came froth, almost in a shrill manner, when you watched his tongue take a long and heavy stripe up your core; not missing the way his claws now dug into your skin, it was almost painful.

“S-stop! Don’t…” You cried out, hands twitching at your sides, trying their hardest to not push him away “Don’t do that, it – it’s dirty down there!”

Bakugou scoffed at your claim, taking a bite out of your thigh to have you look back at him. Once you do he repeats the action, this time accompanying it with a groan – smirking once more at the flush that was now making it down your neck.

“Not dirty at all.” He shrugged his shoulders before settling into a more comfortable position “How can something that tastes as good as you, be dirty?”

You didn’t have an answer for him. Not that you could really, not when your brain did nothing but short-circuit and turn to mush when you felt his tongue swipe up and down at your glistening folds. Unable to hold back any of the mewls and moans that crept out of your throat; especially when his lips found that special bundle of nerves and began to suckle on it.

Bakugou was taking his time, though it was a little bit agonizing. As much as he wished to go faster, to hear the wonton screams that he knew he could make you sing, he knew that you needed this to be as passionate and tender as it could be. So, whenever you would look back on this night, you would not regret allowing him this.

Not that he truly minded. The sounds of your gasps, your twitching thighs, and your bucking hips made up for it. Especially when he slipped a finger into your warmth and felt you tight walls fluttering around the digit. It was delightful, so much so he couldn’t help but let a growl; the vibrations making your hips jump once more. If you felt this good around his finger, he could only imagine how amazing it would feel having your gummy walls around his cock.

After a few pumps, he added another finger. Pushing through your tight entrance to help properly prepare you for his thick member; not wanting it to hurt once he finally got around to fucking you. The sinful, loud, whines you let out as your back arched when he began to scissor his fingers made his head a little dizzy. So aroused by it all that he couldn’t help himself from rutting his hips, and hard cock, on the rug beneath him.

You had the rug gripped between your fingers, your knuckles going white at how tightly you were holding on, as you felt a bundle start to twine in your gut. One that seemed built out of fire and that twisted almost painfully the more he licked, sucked, and played with your weeping core.

“Come on, sweetness” He nearly begs, his voice going hoarse “I can feel you fluttering around me, just let go. I got you.”

You babbled, though you’re not sure of what, as you listened to his gentle command. Unable to resist, you did as he said, and let go of that tight knot deep within you; allowing it to snap and your body to go rigid. Head moving side to side as you whimpered and wept over the overwhelming sensation.

Though it was only now that you truly understood why so many called this feeling ‘le petite mort’ as you felt a part of your soul had died and found its way to heaven. You couldn’t help but want to feel this feeling over and over again until you yourself passed on. Though it was sinful, you had never felt anything so wondrous.

You whimpered when you felt his fingers slowly leave your tender hole, not wanting the feeling of being full to leave you so soon. And neither did Bakugou. He didn’t want to let up when you finally came, wanting instead to continue – to overstimulate you until you were a blubbering, teary-eyed mess, that was begging him to stop. But he couldn’t help himself. He needed to be in you, right now.

“You ready?” He whispered, bringing his hand up to softly caress your cheek, the tip of his cock twitching against your thigh “Cause we can – can stop if you want.”

“No!” You begged, bringing your own hand up to grasp his; kissing his palm “P-please, I want more.”

Your soft confession made Bakugou moan out, hiding his head in the crook of your neck, as he tried to compose himself once more. He knew what he was doing when he started, corrupting your innocence, however he was not expected to become this turned on – affected – by your turning.

He now needed more, want a distant memory from when he began. He placed the blunt head of his cock at your entrance and slowly pushed in, groaning at the tight heat that welcomed him as he slowly, inch by inch, sheathed himself. The stretch itself was a little painful for you, the more he pushed in, but not in a bad way. It simply just felt strange, as you had never felt a man in you before.

Though the more that kept entering you, the more you would whimper out. You had felt full when his fingers were within you, but this was an entirely different sensation; an entirely different feeling of being full. One that made your eyes shut tightly as your mind could only focus on the slightly pleasant burn of being stretched wide.

Bakugou let out a huff, head dangling above yours; some of his hair tickling your cheeks as he allowed you the time needed to adjust to the new sensation. And himself if he was honest. Your cunt was so tight that, mixed with his earlier actions, made him almost cum then and there once he bottomed out.

“You can move now…” You mumbled, pushing his hair back so you could look into his eyes.

He didn’t say anything back, just simply nodded his head as he adjusted your legs to rest upon his hip. It made you moan softly at the shift, his cock feeling deeper in you. Though that moan turned into a hiss when you moved his hips back slightly, your walls still sore from his intrusion; still burned. But Bakugou was careful with his movements, only moving an inch at a time before moving back fully into you.

It was a slow process, but soon he was able to pull almost all the way out before snapping his hips back into yours, quiet pained whimpers turned themselves into cries of pleasure with each thrust. You couldn’t help but bring your around his shoulder, your nails pressing crescent moons into his back with every slam of his cock into you.

The burn of feeling your nails drag into your skin made Bakugou grip your hips ever tighter. You both knew with the way his nails into your flesh, breaking your flesh and having slight trickles of blood run down your legs, meant that there would be scars; ones that your soon-to-be-husband would soon see. And that made you moan out louder, knowing that there would always be a reminder of this night for years to come.

“You like that, don’t you?” Bakugou asked through labored breath, his pace picking up speed as pulled you down to meet his thrusts; salivating at your bouncing chest “You like when I mark your skin? Like when I use your sloppy cunt, use you like the slut that you are?”

Bakugou laughed darkly when you whined at his words and shook your head no. Though you were denying his claims, your body was telling a very different tale; if the amount of slick that dripped down both your thighs was any indication.

“No?” He mocked, a smug smirk forming on his face as your lidded eyes met his “Then why did I feel you clench at my words, huh? Like – ah – like that sweetness? You like when I’m mean to you, don’t you? I told you, you would love how I would sound.”

All you could was keen, brain turning hazy at the sensations he was overloading you with. He was leading you back to that cliff, and you wanted nothing more than to fall over it once again as you brought your legs to lock around his back as you babbled out strings of pleas for him to keep going.

“Yeah, you’re gonna cum again? I can feel it, sweetness, your walls milking my cock.” Bakugou grunted when he felt one of your hands tug the hair at the base of his neck “Come on then, cum. Cum all over my fat cock, milk it – come on!”

He took your hand away from his hair, clasping it into his as he lowered his body onto yours; entwining your fingers together as he continued to say filthy words to help bring you over that edge. When you felt his pelvis rub so deliciously over your clit you couldn’t help but be sent over the edge; pulling him even closer as your body shook at the powerful release.

Bakugou groaned, quickly following suit when he felt your walls clamp down on him. Unable to stop himself from painting your insides white, with rope after rope of his seed, as he bit another mark onto your neck.

You let the moments pass, let it go by serenely as you basked in each other’s afterglow. Not wanting to leave one another so quickly after such an event. You wanted to hold him close as your heart slowly started to beat at a normal rate, and Bakugou wanted to do the same.

Though, once his cock had softened, he felt it was time to get you both cleaned up. And with a soft hiss as he left your warmth, he slowly lifted himself from your warm embrace; suddenly feeling cold even with the fire next to him.

“Be right back.” He mumbled as he got to his feet, not bothering to hide his body like you were as he walked to where his washing room was.

You took this moment to sit up, wincing at the soreness that now encompassed your lower half, as you searched for your shift; wanting to cover yourself, if only slightly. That’s when you found your small leather pouch, the one that contained all the valuables you thought to take with you.

Around the drawstring of the bag, helping to keep the thing closed, was your family heirloom. A giant sapphire broach that was surrounded by silver in an intricate design; a pattern that was designated to your family only. It was invaluable. And you thought that if Bakugou was kind enough to leave you a memento, you should do the same.

You clutched the item to your chest when you heard him step back into the room, washcloth in hand. You continued to hold it close to you, hiding it away, as he tenderly cleaned between your legs and the now dried blood at your hips. A kind gesture that made you relax once more into his touch.

He crawled up your body once more to place a soft kiss on your lips as his arms wrapped securely around you. You yelped when he picked you up, head spinning from suddenly being off the ground. He chuckled at your reaction, it only increased when you scolded him.

He led you to his bed and allowed you to get yourself comfortable before joining you. His heart thumping in his chest, and his tail annoyingly wagging, when you moved yourself to snuggle into his side. Your hands softly wandered over the muscles on his chest, as you gazed up at him once more; a small smile formed on your face.

“Here,” You whispered, holding your trinket out to him, waiting for him to take it. You relished in the soft, gingerly, touch he gave your hand before grabbing hold of your treasure.

“What is this?” He asked, voice still dark and raspy as he inspected it further in the moonlight.

“My family broach. It’s invaluable, probably worth a lot of money.” You explained, rubbing small circles with your fingertips on the skin of his collar bone “It was what you wanted to take when you first saw me. And though you can’t steal me away, you can steal this. As something to remember me by.”

You meant it as a joke, light humor to help ease yourself into more mirthful humor rather than one of sadness over what was to transpire once you woke. You snuggled yourself deeper into the blankets, into his embrace as you placed your head on his chest. The lull of slumber began to swiftly overtake you.

Bakugou couldn’t follow suit though. Couldn’t stop his mind from racing as he looked at the broach. The more he thought about it, as he now looked down on your slumbering face, how sweet and perfect you looked under the moonlight rays, the more he realized that he wanted to keep you. So maybe, just maybe, he would steal you away from them after all.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou smut #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bnha oneshots #mha oneshot #bakugou x you #🔮.the peddler brews #🔮.potion for bakugou

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nariism · 5 months

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a place to call home — k. shinsuke

one bed + childhood rivals/friends to lovers

synopsis. "be kind, shinsuke." that's what yumie always told her grandson. and he would live by those words—even if it meant sleeping on the floor every weekend.

wc. ~2k

— for @mastering-procrastinating & an anon bff! 🫶 | event masterlist ✉️

The day after Kita Shinsuke turns six years old, the vacant house across the street suddenly springs to life with occupants.

His life spirals from being humble and quiet to chaotic in 24 hours. Suddenly, he's responsible for taking care of the bratty kid next door even though they're his age. His bedtime gets thrown out the window because he needs to chase them down to get them to brush their teeth, and his dinner always has some suspiciously missing elements that he never finds.

You become the centerpiece of his entire existence—a floating memory in every crevice of his mind.

Kita hears your laughter in the songs of his childhood; feels your hands roughly pushing him and dragging him around by the wrist; smells the minty toothpaste he forcefully shoved into your mouth after finally catching up to you.

It seems as though you and him were born to be polar opposites. Where he climbs you stumble. Where he sits quietly at the dinner table, you have a never-ending stream of anecdotes to tell Granny (even though half of them are greatly exaggerated—he was literally there to witness it). Where he behaves like a normal child, you can't even sit still during storytime in class.

However, your differences do little to remove you from his life. Where he goes, you go.

It's a consequence of growing up thirty meters from your front door and having you over when your parents suddenly uproot to go on week-long business trips.

And he wouldn't care so much, really, if it weren't for the fact that Granny had equal amounts of love to go around. That, and he would have to sleep on the floor whenever you came around.

For someone so disciplined and grounded, Kita Shinsuke was an envious child. He hated having you in his home, because it meant that his beloved Granny had to split her attention between the two of you. Because she would always tuck you in before him. Because you were louder, more needy, more everything. Because he often woke up with back pains at the ripe age of six years old.

When Kita turns eight, he finally bubbles over.

You're on the swings behind one of your friends, standing on the back of the seat and clinging to the chains. You're being careless, and he would be remiss if you were to hurt yourself.

"Get down from there," he scolds, standing in front of the swing set to stop you from continuing.

"Make me!" You exclaim back, childishly sticking out your tongue and rocking the swing back and forth, gesturing to your friend to keep going.

"Stop."

He comes up behind you and tugs at your shirt, making you wobble.

"Quit it, Shin!"

"You'll hurt yourself!"

He convinces himself that he only cares so much because Granny would have to spend more time with you to patch you up if you fell, and not because he would hate to see your snotty, crying face.

No, it doesn't make his heart squeeze. Not even a little.

Eventually, you end up face first in the wood chips anyway, with Kita hovering over you looking guilty as ever. He hadn't meant to pull you off so roughly, nor had he meant for you to land on the ground like that.

Oh. Why does it hurt him so much?

That night, you don't sleep in his room.

You end up tucked into Granny's bed instead, down the hall. He misses your presence—he even ends up on the floor though the bed is empty for him to take.

He blinks up at the space where you should be and feels bitterness swelling in his throat.

"Shin." His Granny calls softly when she eventually comes into his room. She doesn't sound the least bit angry, but he still aches with nothing but guilt.

"M'sorry." He knows the apology should be for you, but you couldn’t even look him in the eye over dinner.

His Granny only sighs, kneeling down beside his futon with a tired huff. A reminder of her age. He only feels worse.

"Be kind, Shinsuke."

"I'm tryin'," he argues weakly.

She's silent for a pause before she carefully tucks the silver hair from his eyes.

"You'd be lonely too if I were gone all the time, eh?"

"..."

Kita pulls the covers closer to his chin. Yes, he was aware there was a reason you were always here. There was a reason your house was devoid of life despite being filled with furniture. There was a reason you wanted Granny to love you so much, cementing in the gaps where your parents were always absent.

Did you ever want him to love you like that, too?

The next night, he sits you down on the edge of the tub with no complaints. And he's surprised that you accept the toothbrush into your mouth so easily, no resistance and no qualms like you usually have.

He sees the tired defeat in your eyes, feels the awkward tension in the bathroom, and guides your hand to the end of the brush so you can do it yourself.

"I'm sorry," he tells you without elaborating. You never need him to. (When you reminisce about this day, you sometimes laugh to yourself. You always did love how straightforward he was.)

His words are followed by a tense hug, his hands holding your head against his tummy. The brush stops moving in your mouth as you hug him back.

It dawns on him then: he's just as much of a kid as you are—feeling something as petty as jealousy when all you needed was a hug.

One day, he swears, he'll make it up to you. And he'll be nicer, too. It's the least he can do if he's all the company you have until your parents return.

Be kind, Shinsuke. That's what Yumie always told her grandson. And he would live by those words—even if it meant sleeping on the floor every weekend.

The day after Kita Shinsuke turns twenty-two years old, your apartment floods.

Of course he's the first one there, helping you move what you could salvage from the apartment into suitcases and onto the back of his truck. Of course he's the one to offer a place to stay, because if not him, then who else? And of course he's the one who holds you when you're stressing about what to do and where to go, hand firmly on your back as he lets you snot on his shirt like you've done since you were six.

For a brief moment, it feels as though he's just a little kid again with you making a mess of the home he grew up in.

Well, mess is a stretch—you've infinitely matured since starting food wars with him over dinner, but the point stands when he ends up helping you with an assignment. It had been pushed to the backburner with everything going on, whilst you were moving essentially everything you owned into his house as if you paid rent there.

He should have known that some things never change.

"I can't believe you kicked me out onto the floor."

Kita shuffles in the comfort of his duvet, resting atop his mattress. He stares at you with honey brown eyes swimming in conflict from the bed.

You curl tighter into a ball on the futon. And he knows this ploy—knows that you're trying to guilt trip him into swapping places with you. You've always been manipulative when it came to him, and god-forbid he be anything but an angel to you. (Because his Granny told him to, not for any other reason at all.)

"M'not the one who made a bet they couldn't win."

Words straight and cutting as ever, like a blade through your heart. You pout childishly, rolling over so that your back is turned to him.

It was your idea to challenge him when he said you were on your phone too much while working. It was your idea to be a brat and defiantly say that you could finish your assignment by midnight. It was your idea to bet this all on the most beloved yet war-inducing place in the entire house: Kita's bed.

It's hardly his fault that you got distracted with YouTube.

"I hate you, Shin."

"No y’don't."

"I do."

"No. You don't."

"Okay fine, I don't, but can we please swap now? It's freezin’ down here."

He can practically hear the pout still engraved into your face right now. And it takes every ounce of fight in him not to give into you with the snap of a finger. To argue back and list a million reasons why he should be allowed in his own bed.

Yet here he is, slipping out of the sheets almost instantly and crouching down beside the futon. He shakes your shoulder.

"Fine. Get goin' before I change my mind."

Any resolve left in his body melts away when you shoot upright with a bright smile, victorious as ever.

Sometimes you made it hard for him to imagine why he cared about you at all. You were too sly for your own good. How could he ever deny such a smile? It's not fair.

You scurry into his bed instantly, making yourself comfortable where you have hundreds of times before. "You should make sure I'm comfy. I am a guest in your house, y’know?"

Yes, Kita knows this all too well. You're trying to provoke him, to see how far you can push him until he breaks. Stubborn and obedient, he reaches down to slowly pull the blanket over your body.

There's a pause from you as he drapes you in warmth, blinking up at him dumbly as if you weren’t expecting him to do so without complaint.

"I'm..." You seem to choke on your own words, silently contemplating whether or not you should push further. "My face is still cold."

His hands hold your face instantly, warming your cheeks skin-to-skin. You stare at him with wide eyes, looking so surprised that he wonders if what he's doing is a mistake. But then your hands gently cover his, and you tug him closer until his knee is sinking down on the mattress beside you.

"M'super cold."

"It's twenty-two degrees in here," he informs you flatly.

You make a face, nose slightly scrunched in thought and brows pinched. It's such a troubled expression that he can't help but scoot a little closer.

He's being kind, that's all. He's just making sure you're okay as a friend. No, not even a friend—an obligatory companion. The lifelong thorn in his side. The reason why his back still aches some days.

Be kind, Shinsuke.

When did being kind turn into this? Into moving involuntarily, into having a second nature response to you? Into a stubborn body only movable by one soul, one voice, one pair of hands?

"Keep me warm, Shin."

He gives in to your whims without reason, without logic or hesitation. You are the sole person able to break down any semblance of routine that's been methodically coded into his muscles.

He doesn't get you, perhaps he never would. He would never completely understand your wishes, or how your cheeks were so cold yet burning hot at the same time, or why he was submitting to you so easily.

The only thing he knows is that you are still somehow the centerpiece of his life, dancing in the middle of it all like a black hole sucking in everything else; the whirlpool swirling in the center of calm waters; the supernova of his galaxy.

"...'Kay."

Maybe he doesn't need a reason to care about you. Maybe your very existence is reason enough. And he’s okay with that for once in his life. He had never been the type to go with the flow, but your hands are dragging up his neck and pulling his body onto the mattress.

That night, you both fall asleep in the bed.

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owlf45 · 5 months

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romance me with mosquito facts

mosquitoes, when in a condensed enough space, sound like gentle rain.

i work with a specific mosquito species, called the aedes agypti, which carries diseases like dengue virus, west niles virus, and yellow fever. the males are generally smaller than the females, though emerge into adults sooner. you can tell the difference between males and females by the fluffy antennas of the males.

gay mosquitoes everywhere.

mosquitoes tend to be social, if stupid creatures. if you stick two mosquitoes alone in a cage, they probably wont chill (and wont mate). it's just not their style. this is especially frustrating when trying to set up specific genetic crosses.

although i never met them, there used to be a researcher at the lab who did the most batshit stuff. we keep our mosquitoes in mesh cages, so they can't escape but they can feed through the mesh (so we don't have to reach in and out of the cages and potentially let some loose). this old researcher used to grab the morning newspaper, roll up his pants, collapse in a chair and settle his calves over the mesh cages for literal thousands of mosquitoes to feed from him. for hours. i want to meet this man so bad.

mosquitoes are stupid and annoying and prone to killing themselves akin to a goldfish constantly getting stuck in a filter. but strangely enough, you grow to love them. they are simultaneously fragile and durable, easily discernible and difficult to hunt. you can tear their hind legs off and put them through shock a few times and they'll be fine, but a single finger will smush them (quite inconveniently, when you know that bitch could've moved!).

directly after bloodfeeding a female mosquito, if you kill her—often by clapping her directly between your hands (female mosquitoes are the only ones to bloodfeed)—the blood will still be warm.

although i dont screen larvae for traits as often as I used to (I tend to do more database/mosquito caretaking work now), certain gene-linked traits can be found physically in the larvae and pupae stages—sometimes they glow bright blue/green under fluorescent lighting, for example.

like I said though, i mostly work with caretaking. i do the bloodfeeding, i replace their food and water, and i make sure they're in good health and can lay eggs on a proper surface. the mosquitoes under my care live for about a month and a half, though if they're still alive by the time we need to hatch the next generation, we simply fridge them and kill them off. put mosquitoes in the fridge for a few minutes and they'll go to sleep. put them in for a few hours, and they'll usually die— we keep them in for 24 hours to make sure, though.

mosquitoes are difficult to contain. compared to other biochemistry departments, you have tiny creatures that are mobile and can fly, and can't always be seen by the average person unless they're specifically looking for it. I've worked in microbiology labs before, but if there was contamination, it was solely on the researcher. contamination from a loose mosquito is hard to track. this is all to say that I work in a bunker—double doors, minimal vents, no windows.

mosquitoes are the deadliest animals in the world. mosquitoes kill over a million people a year (hence my research). i sit in the back of the bunker sometimes, in the side warm room where we keep our cages of mosquitoes, hundreds of different genetically modified lines in progress at a time, and I have blood on my palms— blood that I fed to my subjects before I squashed them because they escaped from their cages, and I think about the fact that for over 200 lines of this species, I grow them from eggs to adults to death and hatch their offspring again and again and again. i think of lovecraftian horror and I hear gentle rain and remember images of war that keep me up late at night, and I wonder what's the point, for a few numbers in my bank account, and then another mosquito has gotten loose and lands on my arm and doesn't bite me, because it's already full; because i already fed it; because it's just looking for a small, dark place to rest in the folds of my jacket.

mosquitoes love to hide on black surfaces.

#my asks #ego cryptid tree

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bumble-punch · 26 days

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I tend to care about taking a more realistic approach to Riptide in terms of resource management ect, so here's some random thoughts about clothes.

(minor spoilers up to episode #87)

Space management is important on a ship, so pirates tend to stick the essential clothing pieces, and change and wash them less than the average land-dweller.

Pirates don't smell great. This is just something you have to accept.

(except Gillion. Gillion smells of fish and salt and seaweed and the ocean, and never smells sweaty because he doesn't sweat in the human sense, he's just always moist)

Pre episode #87:

Chip has one shirt and one pair of trousers. When he needs to wash them, he will just walk around shirtless or in his underpants depending on what item is being washed. even for a pirate, this is a bit excessive.

he has like three pairs of underpants and he washes them concerningly infrequently

Jay has a change of clothes - she has a spare shirt and trousers, 2 bras that she alternates between, and several pairs of underpants. This is closer to the regular amount of clothes you would expect a pirate to have

After Chip lost his shirt in Allport, he borrowed Jay's spare one since I refuse to imagine him shirtless for the entire Feywild arc. My boy would be cold! :(

Jay is overall the most well-groomed due to her Navy upbringing. However, this isn't something she enjoys - more like something that she feels obligated to do. She finds washing her clothes a pain, and doesn't mind not smelling great or being dirty. As a kid she always hated washing and wearing uncomfortable clothes. As she spends more time on the pirate ship, she becomes less well-put-together and starts to drift more towards a Chip-level of cleanliness - though she promises herself she will never stoop quite as low as him. It's a matter of pride.

She does pick up his habit of walking around shirtless or in her underpants when she can't be bothered to get dressed / it's too hot / whatever. It's a pirate ship, social norms don't matter. Everyone on the ship is family and no-one cares.

She stops wearing bras when they are not on land for the same reason. However, when they come to land, she does make a concerted effort to make herself look socially acceptable and conform to standard norms regarding dress, since she knows this will get them a better reception with the land-dwellers they interact with.

Gillion's was raised to be well-groomed, but didn't have a chance to pack a change of clothes when he was kicked out of the Undersea. His clothes are stiff and encrusted with salt from all the time he spends in the water. There isn't as much of a need to wash items of clothing in the Undersea, as they are in water the whole time, and stains don't show up in the underwater gloom unless they're extremely obvious. Chip and Jay teach him how laundry works easily enough, and Gillion employs a similar strategy to Chip. However, he washes his clothes less frequently than they do as they are always being resubmerged in water anyway.

Post episode #87:

They finally get Gillion a change of clothes. He has an alternate shirt and trousers.

Since they have a bigger ship by this point, the crew has space for a few more fun/luxury items of clothing that aren't for everyday wear. Only a few - ie one special shirt - but it's still nice to have.

(Gillion has an emo band T-shirt) (yes they have emo bands in the fantasy world of Mana) (come on we all know at this point that the world doesn't conform to a consistent time period)

Jay realises she hates her current clothes because the starched sleeveless shirts she has been wearing, though they have become far less starched after a year of heavy use and improper wear, are very scratchy on her skin. She buys two softer woolen sleeveless shirts instead (ie the ribbed design a lot of the fanart of her features). She gives the old shirts to Chip

Chip buys the coat, which keeps his shoulders warm, and so he often prefers to go shirtless to show off his tattoos. However, he will wear Jay's old shirts when his tits get too cold.

#jrwi riptide #jrwi #jrwi show #gillion tidestrider #jrwi gillion #jrwi chip #jay ferin #jrwi jay #chip bastard #chip lastname

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woso-dreamzzz · 6 months

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Pernille's Princesse

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: A look back at your birth from Pernille's perspective

It was, ultimately, a good idea to visit the Wolfsburg team.

Pernille was feeling terribly bad, all fat and bloated. She feels restless too, which is what actually prompts her to drag her heavily pregnant self to the training grounds to get some fresh air.

She's talking with Nilla Fischer, Magda's national teammate, when it happens. She sucks in as pain flares before something that she's been predicting will happen soon, happens.

"Are you okay?" Fischer asks, having caught the wince.

Pernille grabs her upper arms. "My water just broke," She says plainly," Did you bring your car to practice? I'd appreciate it if you drove me to the hospital."

"Oh..er...yeah, sure."

Pernille keeps a tight hold on her emotions as Nilla bundles her into the car and sets off to the hospital. Mainly, because she knows that after she's made this phone call, she'll have to be the calm one of the pair.

"I'll be there soon," Magda's voice says in greeting, a hint of laughter within it," I'm just about to get on the plane."

"You need to call Emma," Pernille says casually even though she's gritting her teeth and squeezing Nilla's wrist over the gear stick.

"What?"

Pernille thinks that Magda might be a little slow today. "You need to call Emma." Her words are short and sharp and it's all she can do from screaming from pain. "And tell her that you'll be sitting the next few games out. You're busy."

"But I'm not?"

Pernille wants to scream and cry but she's trying to stay strong and not have a breakdown in Nilla's car. It doesn't quite work because she snaps at Magda. "You are! Because I'll be damned if I push your baby out and you run back to England a few days later."

She can hear Magda's sharp inhale of worried breath. "But...You can't be having her now! She's early!"

"By two days!" Pernille hisses as another contraction hits her. "I'll send you the hospital address. I don't care how you do it but if you miss this, Magda, I will not be happy."

She drops the call when Nilla pulls into an empty parking space, leaping from the car to help get Pernille out.

"Worried mama?" The receptionist lady asks as Nilla flaps about trying to get Pernille seen.

"Worried friend," Pernille replies as she fills in one last form, handing it back over the counter," The other mama is on a plane to get here right now."

The receptionist winces in sympathy and flags down a nurse to take Pernille to her room.

Nilla comes with her but after a few hours and a text from Magda saying she's landed, Pernille kicks their mutual friend out.

"You're hovering and it's stressing me out!" She snaps as another contraction comes through. "Go and wait outside for Magda!"

Nilla leaving gives Pernille time to calm herself, taking in long and soothing breaths as she rubs her stomach. "Come on, princesse. Just stay like you are for a bit longer or I'll have to kill your Morsa."

She doesn't need to worry though because, no sooner has a nurse confirmed that she's only five centimetres, does Magda arrive.

"Am I late?"

Pernille's lying back on the bed, hand still rubbing circles on her stomach. She deadpans," Does it look like you're late?"

Magda relaxes significantly before saying with a hint of laughter," I think I scared Nilla. I left all my luggage with her."

Pernille waves a hand dismissively. "She's got spare keys. The nurse said I'm only five centimetres dilated. We could be here for a few more hours. Have you called Emma yet?"

Magda's guilty face says everything.

"We have time," Pernille says," Call her now and tell her."

She's right, of course, because your grand entrance to the world doesn't happen until early in the morning. It's absolute hell pushing you out and Pernille's ninety percent sure that she's absolutely wrecked Magda's hand from how hard she was clenching it.

She definitely screamed as well and she also doesn't want to think about the fact that the doctor had a view of her the whole time.

"You did it," Magda says as Pernille slumps back against the pillows," She's here."

Pernille can hear you screaming and she smiles, absolutely exhausted. "She's here."

She watches as the doctor passes a bundle wrapped in your baby blanket to Magda.

You've gone quiet and you're absolutely beautiful, Pernille notes, when you're unwrapped and placed on her chest.

You're rooting immediately and Pernille can do little but stare in awe at you.

●～●～●～●～

Getting you home is easy and Pernille makes Magda drag the cradle into the main bedroom, so they can get you easily at night.

"Look at those legs go. You're going to be such a good addition to Sweden when you're older."

Pernille rolls her eyes as she sits up in bed, having taken a power nap. "You mean Denmark. I'm not raising my daughter to wear a Sweden jersey."

"We'll see."

Pernille picks you up and marvels, not for the first time, at how easily you fit into her arms. She moves to the rocking chair and places you in Magda's arms.

You both look so sweet together, so soft and loving that Pernille has to take a picture - immortalising the moment.

"That's getting framed," She says with a grin," I think I'll put it on my bedside table. So I can remember this moment with you and the princesse." She crouches down to make you wear the hood, caressing your cheeks.

"We need to give her a name soon," Magda reminds her but her eyes haven't left you," We can't keep calling her the princesse."

Pernille thinks of the list they made, the one taped up to the fridge door. They had been going back and forth for weeks. She bites her lip as the name she had heard recently comes to mind.

She hums. "I know it wasn't on the list," She says finally," But I like y/n."

Magda repeats it with a smile, looking down at you. "Is that your name? Are you a y/n?"

You kick your legs, slamming them into Magda and Pernille smothers her laugh.

"That's a pretty powerful strike, princesse." Magda looks up at her. "I think she's giving us her approval."

"I think so too. y/n Harder-Eriksson."

"y/n Eriksson-Harder."

Pernille scoffs and rolls her eyes. "We've got another day before the trip to the embassies. We'll argue about her last name later." Her hand ghosts over your head. "What matters right now is princesse has a name now."

"It's a very pretty name."

#woso x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #hardersson x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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erose-this-name · 3 months

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humans are not the default race

In every scifi and fantasy setting with """races""", humans are the default.

If you're lucky, we're the short-lived, fast-reproducing pests that are all white Europeans for some mysterious reason, and also have disproportionate rates of being raised as undead because we can't be bothered to make zombie dwarf minis or animate a vampire gnome that has to jump up to bite a tall person's neck.

(We've got BOTH human AND elf skeleton warriors! Oh, hey, I just changed the scale, now it's a hobbit skeleton OR a giant skeleton! Such skeleton diversity! No, Khajiits can't be bone boys, a skeleton with a tail and a cat skull is just TOO SPOOKY)

I feel like a lot of people don't realize that we (Homo sapiens) have the longest running endurance of any land animal. Being able to run a marathon is not normal.

(It's because we evolved the very unusual hunting strategy of Slowly Chasing Gazelles Or Whatever While Throwing Sticks At Them Until The Gazelle Or Whatever Collapses From Exhaustion Then Casually Walking Up And Bashing Their Head In With A Rock™).

Even Neanderthals probably couldn't match our tenacity (they were considerably stronger and tougher though, but by no means dumber judging from the size of their brain cavities{which was bigger than ours actually})

(the evolutionary Neanderthal hunting strategy was probably something like Jumping Out And Stabbing An Ice Age Megafauna With A Stick Then Getting Punted 12 Feet Into a Tree Then Getting Up And Doing It Again Until It Dies Because You Have Superhuman Bone And Muscle Density And If You Do Break One Of Your Unbreakable Bones Your Homies Will Take Care Of You Until It Heals™ [Neanderthal skeletons are found with healed fractures surprisingly often despite said bones being much stronger and denser than ours, they just kept evolving denser bones until they couldn't even swim without sinking like a rock and they still got broken all the time])

So given that we, Homo sapiens, actually literally used to be the "species that specializes in sheer endurance, determination, and unbreakable fucking will", I want more fantasy and scifi settings where we are that way! I think the only setting where that's even remotely the case is Undertale. We're not just the "default" intelligent species!

The only reason we're good at everything is because we can make complex tools and can learn and aren't bound by instinct. Which, by definition, all fantasy races would also be able to do. Otherwise, they'd just be considered animals. Like trolls and Redditers.

The "default" species should just be really good at making tools and quickly adapting, but kinda suck in every other category. So I guess gnomes or goblins are the default d&d race.

And Humans are certainly not the Tolkien "that one race that lives short lives and reproduces faster than everyone else and is good at farming" because:

A) we actually do already live relatively long lives for mammals of our size and also GIVING BIRTH CAN KILL US, AND IF OUR PARENTS DON'T RAISE US JUST RIGHT THAT CAN ALSO KILL US, WE ARE SPECIFICALLY VERY BAD AT REPRODUCING

B) we are in no way adapted to farming, and most of our modern health and societal issues stem from the fact that we aren't meant to farm or be civilized, but do it anyways.

We only farm because it helped us survive the ecological collapse at the end of the ice age, now we're in too deep to go back.

When the ice age ended (quite abruptly) the ecosystem couldn't provide for hunters and gathers anymore, a bunch of stuff were getting heat stroke, sea levels rose, hibernation and bloom cycles and reptile gender ratios were out of wack, predators died out because herbivores died out because plants weren't doing well so weren't making as many fruits or seeds. Decomposers like vultures and worms had a field day. Until they didn't (rip condor population). It would take a while for a new equilibrium to emerge and for evolution to fix things.

But farming doesn't need any outside ecosystems except for soil and pollinators, mostly, so that still works. And farming makes more food meaning you can have more people.

But it also means you can't go back to foraging without all the extra people dying of starvation. So anarcho-primitivism would technically be the most deadly ideology if implemented and therefore is not based, unfortunately. Here's hoping for an apocalypse to do that for us! (I would not survive it)

Fun Fact: those isolated tribal societies like the Sentinelese that still do hunting and gathering only spend 15-20 hours a week doing that and another 20 doing camp chores, and the rest of their time forming meaningful relationships and not being depressed.

Notice how most of what they do as "work" (hunting, fighting, hiking, berry/mushroom/etc picking, cooking, camping, arts and crafts, oral history/story telling) are things that we need to do during our limited free time just so that our "work" doesn't drive us insane. If we were good at farming or industry or civilization, then things like math and repetitive manual labor wouldn't be work.

Sure, these foragers die young, but so did medieval peasant farmers who were even less healthy since they had much less diverse diets (a lot of carbs) and got plague more often thanks to cities and their close proximity to livestock. And our modern sedentary lifestyle is bad too.

Hobbits are suited to farming (also Entwives I guess). Hobbits are quite good at it, at the cost of not being as good at much else, they inherently enjoy it quite a bit and most* aren't haunted by the sense they should be anything else, like we are. *(The Took family got that call to adventure 'tism)

We only think that we're not special or can't be anything other than what we currently are because we no longer have anything else to compare ourselves to. The Neanderthals, Denisovans, and irl hobbits died out tens of thousands of years ago and the fucking aliens are somewhere, presumably

We are special, only we survived.

But at the cost of becoming the species equivalent of an abandoned child raised by wolves. We fantasize about these things because we all know that we shouldn't be alone. But our perceptions of ourselves are twisted by our trauma and lack of socialization.

Personally, the realization that having lost our family was probably our fault makes that hurt so much worse.

#writing #writeblr #humans are space orcs #world building #science #not space orcs #A lot of space orc content goes too far with the human are special snowflakes thing #most aliens can probably *eat* or *have microbiomes*#we're just the Jogging With Murderous Intent guys who also Have A Weird Body Plan

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the-kr8tor · 8 months

Note

Can I request Hobie Brown to react to his shy gn crush accidentally sitting on his lap for your fluffy Friday?

Adorable! Thank you for requesting! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mentions, love struck Hobie, spiderperson! Reader, FLUFF

It's Fluffy Friday! (For real this time lol)

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You're talking excitedly with Gwen, food tray in your hands, the Miguel burger sways slightly as you bounce on your feet. The can of soda clinks against the plastic tray.

"Oh! You should absolutely not skip season four even if it's dog shit." Walking backwards to face Gwen, she listens intently to your rambling. "How else are you gonna get the references they throw at you in later seasons?" You say with a cheery smile.

"Are you sure? You literally said it was shit" Gwen raises a brow questioningly.

"Duh! So you can compare how shitty it is to season 5" you turn harshly around, not looking where you're going.

"Shit! Watch out!—" Gwen tries to stop you, but it's too late. You hit a bystander waiting for their meal. You're one of the rare spider people who wasn't gifted with enhanced senses. Cursing at your crappy luck.

Your tray hits the poor guy who was unfortunate enough to be in your way. Pasta lands harshly on their red suit, coating it in bright yellow. The bun from the burger sticks to the spandex, replacing the spider logo to Miguel's mask design.

You crane your neck to apologize to the unusually tall Spider-Man, staring in horror at his scaly face, rows of sharp teeth bearing down at you as he growls angrily. His large shadow looms over you. The tray clunks loudly on the tiled floor, acting as a death bell for you.

"I'm so sorry!" You say weakly, trembling in your suit.

The T-rex steps towards you, footsteps rumbling like little earthquakes. You instinctively walk back, eyes trained on the dinosaur, ready to swing away in case he snaps his jaws at you.

"I'm sorry! I'll get it dry cleaned, please don't eat me–" something hits the back of your knees making you fall on something sturdy. "Oof" you let out, Your back hits someone's chest, strong hands over your waist, steadying you. Craning your neck to the left, you're face to face with someone familiar.

"Falling for me now huh, lovey?" Hobie's fave is mere inches away from yours, brown eyes staring at your flustered face.

"I-uh..hmm?" You could only manage to make noise, noticing how warm his palms are against the spandex of your suit.

Hobie smirks at your reaction, turning his head to address the T-rex that's been hunting you. "Hey big man, they said sorry already. We're on the same team, yeah?"

Spider-Rex huffs out, air coming out of his nose. He drops his head down to your height, you cling tighter on Hobie's torso, much to his satisfaction.

The dinosaur nudges your legs with his snout, as if to say: you owe me dry cleaning.

"Just send me the bill" you chuckle nervously.

Spider-rex huffs one more time, hot air hitting you and Hobie, you try to hide your face on his chest, not caring if the pins on his vest poke your skin. Hobie holds the side of your face, shielding you, his head lays on your temple, piercing cold on your skin.

"Alright! They got it!" Gwen steps in between you and your scaly friend, hands on her hips.

Spider-rex finally leaves, the floor shaking as he moves. Gwen clicks her tongue, tapping her foot in annoyance.

"Fuck, you okay?" Hobie ducks his head to meet your gaze. Fingers fixing your unruly brows that must've ruffled it when the dinosaur huffed and puffed. "He's all bark and no bite. Don't worry he doesn't eat fellow spider-people, usually" he says softly while he rubs your arms comfortably.

"Usually?" You ask in a small voice, slowly realizing you're sitting on his lap. Quite comfortably if you dare add.

He chuckles, "You planning on staying here? I don't mind" Hobie plays it off as he pokes your side.

"Right, sorry" practically jumping off his lap, feet landing back on solid ground, your shyness taking over. "Was I crushing you?" You ask softly.

"Nah," he reassures you. "Come sit down with me" Hobie scooches over, giving you space to sit right next to him.

Gwen drops her tray on the table, clicking her tongue. "I'll get something for you to eat, okay" she pats your shoulder. You nod appreciatively. "Play nice, Hobie" Gwen points an accusing finger at Hobie. "Be right back"

"I'm always nice, Gwendy" He raises his hands in surrender. Hobie notices your apprehension, he gestures for you to sit down across from him this time, as to not make you uncomfortable.

You bravely choose the seat next to him, surprising you both. He smiles when you slide next to him. Your spine is unnaturally straight, muscle tensed. Bashfulness at the forefront.

Hobie wants you to relax so he decides to wordlessly offer you his tray of food. "Wanna share mine?"

A soft smile curls around your lips, affection blooming in your chest. "You sure?"

"Yeah, only if it's with you" Hobie's eyes are soft, gazing at you longingly.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️

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sweetbans29 · 19 days

Text

Greece - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You go on a holiday to Greece with CC and the girls - Based on THIS request

Warnings: none, just some fluff for ya

Word Count: 2.8k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Hi all! Here is a cute one for you!

It was summer break and you and some of the girls from the team decided it would be super fun to go on a vacation somewhere. You all got together to choose where you wanted to go. Jada had the great idea to do that trend of everyone putting a place into a hat and each person would draw at random until there was only one left.

You and Cait had talked endlessly about where you two thought would be fun. Caitlin knew where she wanted to go and was incredibly hopeful about her choice. Meanwhile, you were naming off every place under the sun.

When you both got to Jada's apartment to figure out where you all were headed, Caitlin couldn't contain her excitement. There was a group of 8 of you going which meant that eight locations were going into a hat to be chosen from.

You all sat around her living room and took turns writing down where you wanted to go. You looked over at your girl and saw her writing 'Greece' on her piece of paper. You smile, thinking about all the times she has talked about vacationing off the coast of Santorini.

Caitlin had wanted to go to Greece ever since she was a little girl. There was something about it that just seemed so enticing to her. Ever since you started talking to Caitlin you heard her talking about wanting to go to Greece. Any time you talked about going somewhere together, it always came up in the conversation. It was quite cute.

She put her paper in the bowl on the table. You looked down at your piece of paper and pondered the list of places you were thinking about. Nothing seemed as great as seeing your girl live out the vacation of her dreams. So you secretly write down 'Greece' and place it in the bowl on the table.

After everyone sticks their paper in the bowl, you all take turns pulling out pieces seeing where you will not be going.

As the bowl goes around the room, you hear 'Spain', 'Australia', and 'Japan'. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Caitlin's knee bouncing with anticipation.

'Amsterdam' is read next followed by 'Canada' and 'Thailand'.

It was your turn to pick a place and you already knew how this was going to play out. You pull out a paper and look at it. Caitlin's eyes are intensely staring at you. You give her an apologetic look and show everyone the paper that reads 'Greece' in Caitlin's handwriting.

"Greece," you say as you lean over to kiss Caitlin's temple. Her disappointment doesn't hide well. She tries to compose herself because she is the one who is saying where they are going to be going on vacation.

Little does she know, that her disappointment isn't going to last long. You pass her the bowl knowing that the last piece of paper remaining is yours. And you know you would do anything to bring joy to Caitlin.

You rub her arm as she grabs the remaining piece of paper. You try to hide your smile but are failing. She grabs the piece of paper.

"We are going to..." she begins as she unfolds the paper. A scream escapes your girlfriend and she jumps up on the couch.

"WE ARE GOING TO GREECE!!!" She exclaims as she jumps on the couch like a little girl.

You are so caught up in how Caitlin is reacting that you don't hear that some of the girls are excited and the others say it's not fair that you two can vote the same.

Caitlin jumps into your arms, wrapping her legs around your waist and repeatedly mumbles thank you in your ear. This reaction alone was worth writing down Greece, you can't wait to see what being there with her will be like...

*2 months later*

The time has come and your girl's trip has arrived! Speaking of arrival, your plane just landed in Athens, and are now in a cab on your way to the Airbnb you rented.

Everyone is so excited to be there, especially Cait. It is all she has been able to talk about for the last two months - so much so that you have had to threaten her to get her to stop talking about it. Now that you are actually here, all the work put into planning this trip is paid off.

As the cab pulls up the Airbnb, you all take in how beautiful it is. You all decided to splurge and get a 5-bedroom villa that overlooked the city. It was unanimous when it came to finding a spot - since it was your big trip for the summer, it was worth every penny.

You all run into the villa and being freaking out over how stunning it is. Everyone running and excited about a different thing - Kylie ran to the balcony, Sydney ran to the infinity pool, Jada and Hannah ran to the bedroom with the biggest mirror (those girls and their Tiktok dances), Kate ran to the courtyard that housed a beautiful outdoor patio set, Gabby and Caitlin ran to the living room that was practically a movie theater and you of course ended up in the kitchen.

If there is one thing you love to do, it's cook. Making and serving food is your love language - at least how you express love. When looking at places you were 100% biased to this place because of the kitchen. It housed a beautiful island that had a 4-burner stovetop attached on top of the 6-burner over stove tucked along the wall. Two sinks - one of which was on the island for convenience. A walk-in pantry that was already stashed with all the spices and staples you could ever need. On top of it all, it had one of those foot vacuums where if you dropped anything on the floor, you could push it over to the opening and press a button for it to get sucked up, never to be seen or stepped on again.

As you are falling in love with the kitchen, you feel a pair of familiar arms come and wrap around your torso. Your arms come to rest on top of your girl as you lean back into her. Her head comes to rest on your shoulder and she squeezes you even more.

"I know we just got here but this is the best trip I have ever been on," she says as she turns you to face her. You rest your backside on the island and admire your beautiful girlfriend.

"I am glad you are happy with our choice of summer vacation," you say teasing her.

She pokes at your stomach, which results in a laugh from you.

"Ya, well, I have a pretty amazing girl who would do anything to make me happy," Caitlin says genuinely as she takes hold of your hand. You decide to poke at her some more.

"Well I don't know about anything to make you happy," you say, exaggerating the 'anything'. When she looks down at you, you give her a smile and a peck before grabbing your bags and heading to find the room you will be staying in with Cait.

"I already put my stuff in our room, let me show you where it is," she says as she leads you down a hallway that leads to a whole other wing of the villa. It is like its own separate house within the villa. When you arrive, you notice it is the only room on this side of the Airbnb.

"I chose this room intentionally," Caitlin says. "It is the only room on this side of the villa - completely separate from everyone else." She gives you a suggestive look as she begins to approach you. Right as you wrap your arms around your girlfriend's neck you hear the phone ring.

You both look to see a landline on the bedside table. You pick it up and say 'hello'.

"Hey! You two lovebirds need to come back to the main house - we are going out to explore," Gabby says and the other girls are yelling at you two to hurry up.

"Okay okay we are on our way," you say as you motion for Caitlin to change into lighter clothes. You hang up the phone and begin to change yourself.

Once again, you feel Caitlin's arms wrap around you.

"It's a good thing they won't be near us tonight - because I have some ideas on how I want to say thank you to you and I know you have trouble staying quiet," she says as she kisses your neck.

"Why don't we just stay here and start now," you say as your eyes close and your head leans back into her shoulder.

"As tempting as that sounds, we are burning daylight baby!" She says as she completely removes herself from you, earning a groan.

"Tease," you mumble as you finish changing out of your travel clothes.

The first few days are spent exploring Athens. Going to see different historic sites and museums. The place is beautiful and the food is delicious. Everyone is having the time of their lives, Caitlin especially as you all explore a new city.

The next morning you and a few girls head to a local market. You plan on making dinner that night for everyone. As you are walking around, you buy everything you will need and more. You are overwhelmed with everything they have and have an absolute blast. Jada and Kate are with you and get flowers and other small things that will liven up your stay.

When you get back, you start some of the prep while everyone else is lounging or doing their own thing. Caitlin is sitting on the counter watching you do your thing in the kitchen. Watching you cook is one of her favorite things. She could sit and watch you all day - it’s when you are in your element.

Every now and again you would bounce over to her to give her a little kiss or to squeeze between her legs to be held by her. Being held by your girl makes you melt every time.

Once everything is all done, Cait rounds the girls and everyone meets at the patio table. You come out bringing the last dish. Family dinners are where you feel most at home (the only exception being Cait). Everyone sits and feasts and life is good.

The next few days are for sightseeing. Everyone heads out to different museums and places that hold Greek culture. Some things are done together while others you all break off into small groups, you never leaving Caitlin’s side. It didn’t matter what you were doing, doing it with Caitlin was better than doing any of it without her.

You are all back at the Airbnb enjoying the amenities that are there. Everyone is out by the pool, some in it and some sitting next to it. You are reading a book when you feel a sudden cold reach your legs. You tilt your book to the side to see nothing out of the ordinary - no one is looking at you or acknowledging the fact you made any movement. Going back to reading, you pass it off as a phantom splash until it happens again.

You immediately sit up and look around to find Caitlin in the pool trying to conceal a giggle. A smile forms as you get up from your chair and make your way to sit next to where she is. You sit poolside and dangle your feet in the water.

“Why don’t you come all the way in,” Caitlin says. “We can race!” It was cute how she was playing in the pool like a little kid. Seeing her here in Greece has you believing that this trip is healing a part of her inner child and it makes your heart swell.

“Maybe in a little babe, I’m about to go in to make everyone lunch,” you say reaching over to take some of her wet hair into your hand and combing your fingers through it.

She moves to position herself in between your thighs, leaning her arms on them, and looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. “Please please please,” she begs.

You lean down and kiss her on the top of her head.

“Maybe a little later love,” you tell her. “Actually you should probably get out of the pool and do some packing.” You tell her.

“Pack? Why? We have another 4 days here, I have plenty of time to pack babe,” she says, slightly offended you suggested leaving this wonderful place so soon.

“Not pack to go home, pack to go on a little adventure,” you say with a little smile. She immediately perks up.

“Wait, what?” She says as she tries to get your attention back. You were not leaning back and looking up at the sky. She starts tapping on your thigh and splashing you with water.

“Hey! Don’t splash, I need to make lunch,” you give her a look.

“What do you mean adventure?” She says. She is too cute.

“Well, I thought it would be fun if we broke away from the group for a couple days and headed over to Santorini,” you say with a smile.

“We’re going to Santorini???” She exclaims, jumping up and down in the pool.

“Ya babe, we weren’t going to come to Greece and not go to Santorini,” you say with a laugh.

She gets overly excited and grabs your arms, pulling you into the pool. She wraps herself around you as you instinctively wrap your arms around her. You try to act mad that you literally just told her you didn’t want to get wet because you were going to head in and make food but you can’t keep a straight face when you see how excited she is. There isn’t much you wouldn’t do for this girl.

“Ok now go pack. We leave tonight and you need to be ready,” you say and you pull yourself out of the pool and grab a towel.

You make everyone lunch and make sure Caitlin packs. Before you know it, the two of you are on a plane heading to the beautiful island of Santorini. The second you knew you were all going to Greece, you started booking this little side quest to Santorini. It was fun to be able to get some of the girls' help as you wanted to keep it secret from Cait until you were there. They helped get some details out of her about things she would want to see and do without it coming straight from you.

The two of you have a small little Airbnb that is right in the middle of the classic white hillside. As you are settling in, you tell Caitlin what your next few days look like. The hikes you have planned and the markets she has mentioned to Gabby. Places to eat and you even have a nice little boat ride planned. She is over the moon with all you have managed to plan without her knowing.

The two of you have the time of your lives exploring Santorini. This was literally her dream - to be here. And being here with you was the cherry on top. She has no idea how she could ever thank you for all of this.

It’s your last night in Santorini before you head back to be with the group. You have planned a nice little candlelight dinner overlooking the coast. As the two of you sit there and just take in each other’s presence and the scene around you, you take hold of her hand.

“I hope this has been everything you dreamed it to be,” you say to her as you grab your glass of wine. She gives your hand a squeeze and just looks at you.

“What?” You say beginning to squirm under her eyes.

“You are the most beautiful human being I know,” she begins. “Not just physically, but your heart is so big and full of love for others and the world. I truly cannot believe you have chosen me to love. You are the best thing that has happened to me and I am the luckiest girl in the world to call you mine.” As she finishes, there is a little twinkle in her eye from the moon hitting the tears that have begun to form.

You don’t say anything. Nothing you say could even begin to describe your love for the girl sitting in front of you. So instead you stand, her hand still in hers. You guide her to a little spot near the edge of the patio where you were having dinner and pull her close to you. Your hand free hand coming to her waist, hers coming to your shoulder. You begin to slowly dance in the moonlight, soaking up this moment.

A moment you would never dream of forgetting.

AN: This was a fun one to write! I hope you all enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark imagine #iowa hawkeyes

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kmi-02 · 5 months

Text

Pairing: Husband!Phillip Graves x F!reader

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings/tags: mdni. SMUT, porn w/o plot, fingering, riding, unprotected sex (p in v), no use of Y/N

"Love?" You ask softly, voice barely heard above the buzz of the TV. The side of your body rests on the doorframe, watching your husband's lost in thought expression as different colored lights flash on his face.

He's startled out of thought, not expecting you to be up so late. His eyes find your darkened figure and all he can give you is a tired smile.

"Can't sleep" his hand reaches for the remote and lowers the, already low, volume a little more "Didn't mean to wake you"

"No, just-" you start to explain, letting him know it wasn't his doing. Your arms hug your waist in an attempt to warm yourself, Phillip's flimsy shirt didn't serve as enough coverage when out of bed "Woke up and you weren't there"

"Sorry, darlin'" he replies with an apologetic frown. As his eyes adapt to the darkness, he notices your state: barely dressed; with only his shirt and, probably he thought, panties. His eyes traveled down your naked legs, stopping at the sight of your sockless feet changing weight, attempting not to freeze against the cold hardwood. "Come 'ere" he says as his arms raise, ready to welcome you in their embrace.

Pat-pat-pat is heard as your naked feet step on the floor, you quickly make your way to your husband's lap. You giggle at the action, the short sprint and jumping into Phillip's arms, his reclining chair rocking back and forth; and you're not sure if you kneed his thigh or if it was just the chair, but he didn't seem to care. He smiles and chuckles, the constant I love her thought never leaving his head.

You look at him as you settle on his lap, straddling his thighs– you secretly hope he doesn't notice the lack of underwear. His warm hands rest on your lower back.

"Wanna talk about it?" you ask, hoping the reason wasn't nightmares or worse, his own conscious mind.

He shakes his head, "No, not really". And you know he feels bad for denying you his worries, but there's things you simply should never know about, and you respect it.

"Hm" you hum, warm and sleepy but still aware. Your hands move along his arms and linger on his shoulders. Eyes locked on his, you lean and gently place a kiss on his forehead; sweet but not quite what Phillip wants.

One of his brows raise, questioning, you are barely able to notice it in the darkness of the room, TV lights covered by your form, but you pay it no mind. Your tongue swiftly swipes over your lip, a habit. Hands moving again, they creep over his neck until reaching his face, your thumbs caress his cheeks lovingly. You lean again, lips landing on the bridge of his nose.

"Hey..."

"... What?" You ask in a whisper, feigning ignorance. Your lips morph into a smile at his caution.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" He asks half jokingly, a smile of his own appearing on his face, enjoying thoroughly the gentle caress– the attention.

"Perhaps?" Caught in your intentions, you huff a tiny laugh but continue your ministrations, quickly leaning in and kissing the tip of his nose.

"Ah-" If you weren't as familiar as you are with how noisy your husband can be, you would've thought he sighed, almost frustrated; a protest. But you know better. A sweet, tiny moan, filled with expectation. It let's you know you're doing the right thing; arousing him, railing him up.

You watch his reaction carefully, noticing how his hips shift, how his breathing deepens, how his fingers dig a little deeper into your back. "You like that?" You ask breathy, teasingly, but he doesn't respond. The excitement palpable. Your gaze darts between his pretty eyes and his lips, but as tempted as you might be, you stick to your plan.

You swallow and lean in, lips dangerously close to his as you try to keep your cool. You get so close Phillip wonders if he's imagining the sensation of your lips in his, but he doesn't move, doesn't chase. Your mean lips land directly over his cupid's bow and you hear his breath hitches, hands desperately trying to pull you even closer.

If you were to be wearing panties, you are positively sure they'd be soaked.

You almost miss the breathless God that falls from Phillip's mouth, but the sound makes you so needy that you have to fight a protesting whimper against your own actions. Even if this was your idea, sometimes it surprises you just how strong your lust for your husband can be.

Bracing yourself, you strike again, kissing the corner of his mouth. You could feel the pace of his racing heart while your chests were flushed, he knew what you were doing and he was so turned on by it. He shifted on his seat again, this time with purpose– bucking his hips into yours to get any friction he could against your crotch. No panties he concludes, but the thought is quickly replaced by the angelic sound of a mewl; soft, needy, perfect.

You were so, so close.

"Please" he begs in a murmur, whining.

You close your eyes suddenly, his simple word like a thunder coursing through your body and lighting your cunt on fire. "Next one‐" you start between deep, heavy breaths, "This one's gonna be on the lips, hm?" You warn, expectation high.

He nods firmly as his eyes fight not to close. You move your hands to his neck, thumbs gently following the line of his jawbone while the rest of your fingers thread themselves with the hair of his nape, you were doing everything you could to put him more and more on edge. He groans at the feeling of your delicate fingers.

"Stay still for me, yes?" Your words no more than a whisper, reason no other than to drag this moment just a bit longer. But you knew it was a dumb request, in Phillip's mind there was nothing else than pure compliance– he was giving up control. It was far from a rare occurrence; Phillip leaving the situation in your hands to lead you both to play with pleasure in a slightly different way he would. So, he just waits and listens until you take what's rightfully yours.

The muscles on your thighs tense as you lift yourself off his lap, not much, but enough to look at your husband's face from above. You tilt his head upward and inhale deeply, cruelly taking your sweet time until you hear a, barely there, moan. You notice how his lips part in anticipation, his eyes unable to stay focused on one thing.

You dive in. Lips meeting his on a crashing kiss, wet and messy and so desperate. You moan into the kiss almost immediately, basking on the sensation and the taste of the lips you so much craved. Your arms hug around his neck as you sit directly over his growing, aching cock. You let your tongue venture into his mouth and you feel his heavy hands kneed the flesh of your ass, pushing your hips impossibly closer. You can feel how his chest rises and falls and you suddenly notice how you aren't even breathing, too engrossed to prioritize your own oxygen.

After a couple of seconds, you unwillingly start to pull away. Panting, you gently bite his lower lip and open your eyes to the fucked up expression of your husband– pupils blown, reddened lips. There's no words for a moment, no movement aside from the heavy breathing, the both of you silently processing what just happened. But you're not finished yet.

A sharp inhale breaks the trance, "What do you want, love?" You ask with urgency, "Hm?". You keep talking before he can even start to open his mouth "Want me to tire you out? To help you sleep?".

A long groan scapes Phillip's lips as he finds the strength to respond, a pathetic mumble of "I- I want" that you don't entertain. You cut him off, frowning while nodding in understanding; a condescending expression. But you are well aware of his needs– "Oh, I know baby" you reassure, "I'll take care of you, hm? That's what good wives do".

Your words make desire spark in Phillip's body, a proud smirk spread over his face at the mention of wife. Such an easy-to-please partner, the mere remembrance of your relationship status enough to put him in a good mood. You dive in again, peck after peck over his soft lips, working as a distraction while your hands travel down his toned torso, swiftly finding the strings of his sweatpants and untying it– fingers dive past his boxer's waistband freeing his pretty cock. An amused hum leaves your mouth at the sight, one you could never get tired of. Phillip's mouth falls open as you work languid strokes on him, still delivering sweet little kisses; peppering from his lips down to his jaw and neck, showing your reverence to every inch of skin available until you hear your husband moan, long and sweet. As much as you would love to make him cum here and now, you can't let him have fun alone– your hand stops abruptly and you nearly chuckle at the objecting groan that left Phillip's throat. "Sorry baby" you coo at him, but quickly explain your action by sitting back and hastily grabbing the hem of your – his – shirt, undressing and throwing it to the side.

His hands wander all over your body, marveling over the now naked skin; eyes shamelessly glued to your chest. He pulls you closer to him, his lips landing between your tits, aiming to start working your nipples with his experienced tongue, just how you like it. But you don't let him, not now. Your hands gently push him back against his chair and he looks at you like a kicked puppy– How dare you not let him suck your tits?

Your fingers wrap around the flesh of his wrist, ripping his hand off your hip and guiding it sensually up your torso. He looks mesmerized as you take two of his digits into your mouth, wetting them with saliva even though you're sure you don't need extra lubrication– your slick covered cunt more than ready to receive attention. You smirk mischievously as you take them out of your mouth with a lewd pop and he moans, breafly wishing it was his cock instead. His pretty blues follow every movement, every action; they watch how you take his hand down your body tentatively slow, making his fingers graze your skin and shivering at the sensation. They watch how your mouth falls open as his fingertips ghost over your navel, down over your clit. His pretty blues watch, through shuddering lids, how you rotate his hand and desperately push it upon your cunt, uncaring of the lack of technique applied, just craving his touch.

"Ah-" you moan as your clit feels the pressure of his palm's heel, brows furrowed while you squeeze his wrist, urging him to please you himself. Phillip catches on immediately, too used to your behavior. His hand separates mere centimeters from your heat to bend its wetted fingers and circle them around your needy hole before sinking, knuckle deep, into your cunt. Your head falls back, a satisfied hum sounding through your throat as you bite your lip.

"Don't even need prep, darlin'" he says with a chuckle, his fingers entering your heat with little resistance– still, he lingers a little longer to get you used to him. He takes his hand away, swiftly bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking them clean. God, he's hot.

You sigh at the new emptiness, dizzy with desire. Suddenly, a firm hand wraps around his length, drawing a surprised gasp out of Phillip. You rise to your knees again, cunt eagerly awaiting as you move his tip around your wetness, nudging your clit and making it circle your hole, just like he did with his fingers. His hands fall to your thighs, massaging the flesh as a last resort to keep sanity, your constant teasing driving him crazy by the second.

You sink, seatting yourself completely on his cock.

Phillip's nails dig into your thighs as a loud moan rips through his lips, finally able to feel what he knew he was getting the moment you started with your provoking kisses. His ears fill with your little moans, full of pleasure as his girthy cock nudges its way deep within your walls, deep enough to kiss your cervix. It's fast and impatient, the way your pussy swallows his length in one go– as if you lacked time, as if being rushed.

You sit still for a couple of seconds, tight pussy getting used to the fullness your husband's cock provides. There's no words, they're not needed. Both set of eyes lock onto each other, they take in the state you both are left in: fucked– you feel how Phillip's fingers dig even more into your thighs, how his needy dick twitches inside of you, you notice how his back is slightly arched off the backrest, how his chest heaves. On the other hand, Phillip feels your muscles tensing, your cunt clamping on him like a vice, he sees your puffy, bitten lips, moonlight coming through the window and illuminating you like the angel that you are; for him, at least. He watches as your face gets closer to his and your mouth takes his own, kiss lasting a mere second.

He tries to chase after your lips but you lean back, hands finding his knees, arms locking behind you and supporting your weight as you wickedly roll your hips into his.

"Hmm so good " you say honey thick, laced with lust.

His eyes snap shut at the feeling, all too good but you know it's not enough. Your hands squeeze as you start to lift yourself, brows furrowing in pleasure before you sink back, heavy– testing the waters. A shaky sigh it's all you get. Still not enough, huh? you think, but you take it as a challenge. In Phillip's mind, he couldn't stop cursing himself; too focused on not cumming early as his sweet wife was trying exactly the opposite. He was fucked, he knew, when he opened his eyes and saw that expression in your face, the one you wear when you're not satisfied with something, with an outcome. Maybe when he steeled himself to last longer, too into his head to express correctly the heavenly pleasure you bestowed upon him, you took his, rather tame, reaction as something else. But, well, not much he can do about it now.

Phillip swallows thickly, readying himself. His hands glide across your thighs up to your asscheeks, partly because he loves your ass, partly because he wants to have a good grip around your hips may things go too crazy. You smirk, devilish, before starting a relentless rhythm; your body bounces up and down on his cock, stoping abruptly and sitting yourself fully on him for a couple of seconds while grinding your hips, only for it to start again. Phillip isn't sure if he's in heaven or hell, but, knowing better, he moans and hums and groans unabashedly as you give your best to work him to completion.

"C'mon baby, c'mon baby, c'mon baby... Fuuck " your husband's plea bleeds into a lusty hum as he hugs your hips close to his when you take one of your little breaks, basking in the pleasure– he's completely sure your thighs are on fucking fire but you don't seem to mind. Such a good wife.

"Touch yourself baby," he commands, tone dominant "Show me"

In a show of amazingly fast shift in dynamics, you comply immediately. One of the hands that was on his knees is between your burning thighs and giving your husband what he asked for. He moves his hands slightly up, supporting your lower back and hips with his hands and forearms, providing extra help so you can keep the ruthless pace. He leans back as much as he can, just to watch you work yourself– your digits massage your clit in tight circles, trying as best as they can to time it with the bouncing. The sudden addition of stimulation drives you stupidly close to orgasm, and Phillip knows it.

"'M close-" you blabber in a blissful daze, mind so focused on the pleasure that you feel your body move on autopilot, mind and body two separate entities, one made to receive and the other to give– your mind eager for pleasure and your body working overtime to give it to you.

In a moment of clarity, you remember your husband. Not that you could forget, bouncing up and down on his cock, but it is true that you promised to take care of him. Feeling slightly guilty about the sudden shift in focus, you open your beady eyes to watch him, to assess his state, hoping he's as close to coming as you are.

"Yeah?" He replies breathlessly to your warning, eyes never straying from your soaking cunt; her clit being played with while his big cock spears her open, such a champ.

"Mhm" you nod, your senses overwhelmed. A long groan from Phillip lets you know what you were so worried about, he's definitely close. You retreat your fingers from your clit, hand returning to his knee and keeping you steady, helping you completely focus on his impending orgasm. You can see how he's not please by your action, but you don't care; you can cum after him. His breathing starts to stutter, eyelids fluttering while his mouth falls open, letting loose shameless moans that he can't, and doesn't care to, control– you take the cue, tightening your walls around him in the rhythm of your bouncing.

He spills inside of you with a throaty groan, his hands and arms holding you tight as his whole body stiffens. His hips jerk up, chasing your own as you lower yourself on his cock. You feel the warm cum start to slide out of you, and you take the opportunity to, again, bring your fingers to your clit and finish the job. It doesn't take much, a couple of fast, tight circles over it have you whimpering as you come undone on his cock, the spasms of your walls making Phillip's eyes to snap shut. You can feel Phillip's breath hit against your chest as he pants, and soon after you fall completely limp over his chest.

"Careful" he says softly as he leans back on the chair, cradling you between his strong arms. He sighs, hands moving up and down your back in a soothing manner, letting the comforting silence engulf you both as you come down from your respective highs.

After some seconds, or minutes, you're not sure, and when both's racing pulses had calmed down, Phillip breaks the silence.

"Don't fall asleep on me now, sweetheart" you can hear the smug smirk in his tone, cocky bastard. You place a hand on his chest to help you push yourself out of his embrace, sitting straight– you feel how your thigh muscles twitch in pure exhaustion and a fleeting it's gonna hurt like a bitch later crosses your mind.

"Can we?" you ask softly. "Go to sleep, I mean"

"Hm" Phillip hums, resting his hands on your dying thighs "'Course"

You smile at his response and look him directly in the eyes, as if waiting for him to notice something. After a couple of seconds, he seems to get it "Should I carry you...?"

"Mhm" you reply plainly before chuckling. Your arms move to hug around his neck as he grabs under your thighs and gets up, heading to the bedroom.

Maybe you should worry about getting clean, or getting your husband's softening cock out of you, but you can't muster the energy to really care.

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