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ncteez · 10 months

Text

homewrecked. (j.ww)

Wonwoo doesn’t seem to realize that you’re giving him the best option out of a relationship that doesn’t even involve you. With a cheating best friend on one side, and a loyal Wonwoo loving her from two hours away on another, you decide that home wrecking isn’t always a bad idea. or the one where wonwoo fights internal demons over wanting you bc he’s in a relationship that he doesn’t even realize is falling apart.

ao3 | m.lists | leave feedback and reblog to give wonwoo a boner

minors do not interact.

WORDCOUNT― 12k

PAIRING― wonwoo x afab reader

CONTENT― toxic relationships, fluffy sex?? like it’s very intimate

WARNINGS― infidelity, there’s some angst but it gets fixed with fucking, mentions of reader having tits that jiggle and she’s also shorter than him, alcohol consumption

NOTE― will i ever stop writing smut from his point of view? probably not. we love to know what a man is thinking while he’s balls deep. anyway, this ain’t proof read bye.

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― big dick wonwoo, making out, leg humping lmao, finger fucking, oral [m receiving], “IT’S NOT FUCKING, IT’S MAKING LOVE!!!”, cliche “omg ur pussy was like, meant for me”, mating press position, unprotected sex, cream pie, he’s in love bro–

Wonwoo didn’t know why he needed you so badly and the thoughts ate him up. Day after day, watching you dangle yourself in front of him like you don’t know he’s definitely not the type to take you up on the offer.

The issue is that he would take up the fucking offer if you had done this five months ago before he entered into a long distance relationship with your best fucking friend. She moved out of town, and two hours wasn’t going to stop him from pursuing that relationship. You, however, you were definitely going to make him stop pursuing. Why? Because your best friend is a bitch, and it’s not like she hasn’t texted you about all of the dicks she’s been sucking since she left.

Why not give him the revenge he doesn’t know he needs?

He can feel his eyes burning holes through that thin shirt you're wearing and at this point, it’s painful to try and pretend he doesn’t stare. Even more painful to pretend he’s being nonchalant about it each time you get a little too close to him, each time you bend over directly in front of him, and surely each time you decide not to wear a bra while wearing said thin shirt.

He doesn’t understand why he keeps showing up for you. Before, it was because you were a mutual friend between him and his girlfriend. You were cool, laid back, and fun to hang out with. His girlfriend never seemed to mind when the two of you would hang out alone, then again that was quite a rare occasion before she moved away. Now though, hanging out with you seems to have far more intent behind it than just avoiding boredom on a weekend. Now, you appear to be more interested in what he has to say, what he looks like, how he’s feeling.

Wonwoo can’t quite pin point the moment in time where you started acting this way, but he sure as fuck can pin point the first day you seemed off around him. He thought he was thinking too hard, wondering why you knocked on his door on a cold December evening with no jacket on, but wonderful cleavage offering firm jiggles with each shiver.

It got to the point that by the time spring hit, and he was still hanging out with you on the regular, that he was almost annoyed that the temperature got warmer. Sure, it was more of a reason for you not to wear clothes, but it doesn’t feel as intentional when you’re quite literally dressing for the weather.

Still, you’re here again. In his apartment, sprawled out on his couch with the remote in your hand as if this is your own space. You really do make yourself at home, a little too at home. No bra under that thin shirt, the air conditioning raising goosebumps on your skin and perking up your nipples each time you lift your arms up for a long and audible stretch for him to surely suffer over later.

Hanging out with you shouldn’t feel like this, because he has a girlfriend.

“What do you want for dinner?” He asks from the kitchen, pretending that the two of you don’t seem like a couple on your own, as if he wasn’t just texting his actual girlfriend.

“Dunno,” You shrug, turning your head to look at him and noting his slow response of bringing his eyes from your tits to your face. “We should go out.”

His heart thumps heavily at those words but is very quick to realize that you’re absolutely not asking to be his girlfriend right now.

“Huh?” He asks nonchalantly, averting his eyes back to his near-empty cabinets with a huff.

“Like, go out? To a bar? A restaurant? A club?”

He lets his arms fall from the cabinet as he closes it in defeat and makes his way to throw himself onto the couch next to you.

“You, of all people, should know I don’t go out anymore.” He retorts in a long sigh, averting to the fact that those are options for single men or couples that seek those kinds of experiences together.

“Why not? She still goes out.”

The first secret is out, though you kind of assumed he knew already.

“Oh? Does she?” He asks, seemingly not too bothered. “That’s good, she deserves to go out and meet people considering she moves to a brand new city.”

You nod in agreement, rolling your eyes up to look at his living room ceiling.

“Come on, she knows I’d be there to fend off any girls trying to get in your pants.” You argue with him, or rather, you try to convince him.

“And you plan to go looking like that?” He asks, turning his face to you and once again staring straight at the way your tits leave no room for imagination.

“Uh, yeah? It’s not like I'm the one under lock and key.”

He rolls his eyes at you but offers a small nod, standing to his feet and shuffling to his bedroom.

“At least put on a jacket or something, I think it’s supposed to rain tonight.”

You nod, smiling as you follow him to a room that should be off limits to you. Mostly pleased by the fact that you’re going out with Wonwoo alone, and surely you’re about to be wearing his jacket over the shirt you wore specifically for him to look at.

You were right, you are wearing his jacket as you step past the security at the club. Shortly after the two of you left a small diner, you nearly thought he was going to have cold feet and not want to go, even after taking the time to fix his hair and wear a nice outfit. Thankfully, he didn’t. Thankfully, he’s right at your side appearing as nervous as he was the day he asked your best friend out. Thankfully, he looks like he’s here for you and not to be your wingman.

“Lighten up, we’re just here to have fun.”

He nods, looking at you and the way his jacket looks on you. It shouldn’t look so good, you shouldn’t look so good to him. He can’t help but feel like he’s crossing a line despite learning his girlfriend goes out quite often without so much as telling him about it. Even before he started dating her, it’s not like clubbing was his thing. He just went with you and his girlfriend, occasionally letting his own friends tag along to find some raunchy date for the night.

“You’re right,” He nods again, encouraging himself. “Just gotta get in the mood of things I guess.”

You smile at him and pretend you heard what he just said over the bass of the music, and opt to point with your head toward the bar that holds a short line of people appearing to be ready to drink. He follows behind you, being led from a comfortable distance in a space that should force him up and against you. Consistently, you look back to make sure he hasn’t been lost in the crowd. To make sure he isn’t being grabbed at by all of the people who would surely want to pick him up tonight if they find him standing alone somewhere.

He keeps the pace though, shoving up next to you by the bar so that you both can order your first drink of the night. All you can do is look at him briefly any chance you can get as the two of you wait.

He looks uncomfortable here, but incredibly handsome in the darkened room with the neon LED lighting flashing across his cheeks. You’ve seen him in lighting like this before, usually pressed up against your best friend, but now you feel as though he needs you here for comfort. Then again, he wouldn’t even be in this situation if it weren’t for you arguing that the two of you come here.

Still, you know how he acts when the alcohol hits him, especially in a loud room full of hidden secrets that people are releasing without a single hint of fear. You have some secrets too, ones that you’ve felt bad for keeping, but in a way, it isn’t your job to tell him.

The snide part of you likes seeing him take an interest in you. Someone so entirely loyal shouldn’t be caught up with someone like your best friend. You’re actually shocked he gave in so quickly to even come to this club with you, even more shocked at the way he continued to hang out with you despite your obvious attempts of seduction.

You started doing it a mere day after your “best friend” texted you a selfie, post-sex glow practically dripping out of her sleepy smile within another man’s bed. With an arm wrapped around her, one that did not belong to Wonwoo. You knew it wasn’t him, because she texted that shit the same day Wonwoo had his job interview.

He got that job, and part of you wonders if the excitement in your friend’s voice for him over the excited call he gave her later was really for him getting the job, or if it was because she had some really great sex with some non-boyfriend. Because of course you were at Wonwoo’s house helping him pick a professional outfit, of course you were there letting him recite the things he wanted to present at the interview. Of course that’s what you were doing, you helped him prepare and then waited around his place until he got back with the news. He’s your best friend’s boyfriend, and arguably, he was also your best friend by that point.

After that, all respect for the relationship left you, and instantly you took matters into your own hands. Be there for him, be around him, be a friend to him, and of course, try to get revenge for him. Even if that meant using your own body because for some reason, you felt protective. You felt possessive.

Seeing the way he looks at you, even while being in a loyal relationship, is arguably pushing you past the boundary of just wanting revenge for him. You can see him argue with himself in his head, the doubt of why he’s looking at you this way, the doubt of why you’re doing this so suddenly. It’s attractive seeing him fight a loyalty that his own girlfriend doesn’t even give to him. It’s attractive to see him here, next to you, spouting out his drink order and looking at you briefly as if to tell you it’s your turn.

And you do order, feeling the fabric of his jacket rub against your naked arms, and the zipper occasionally stimulating your breast beneath the thin shirt. Wearing no bra has both pros and cons. The pros being, constant stimulation and Wonwoo keeping his eyes attached to you and telling on himself. The cons, the bar tender and every other fucking person in this club appear to also be staring.

Thankfully, the two of you grab your drinks shortly after and head straight around the dance floor and scout out a small couch in the back. Small as in, a two person seater with a small table in front of it. It’s a lucky snag on a saturday night to find an empty spot that perfectly fits the two of you, but neither of you seem to be complaining.

You sit down next to him, feeling the warmth of his arm radiating immense heat as his eyes travel the loud room of dancing bodies, his drink in a hand that appears to be trying not to tremble.

“Why’re you so nervous?” You whisper yell at him, taking a thoughtful sip of your drink before leaning forward and bringing your head playfully in front of his line of sight.

“Just kind of doesn’t feel right to be here without her, y’know?” He responds, taking his own thoughtful sip and grimacing at how strong the drink is. Still, he continues to sip as he watches you roll your eyes at him in a huff.

“Oh my god, could you be any further up her ass right now?”

He almost feels offended by that comment. Wanting her to be here is not considering being up her ass, if anything, it’s being a good boyfriend. You continue to spit sarcasm at him though, looking dissatisfied with how he’s acting.

“How come she can go out and have fun and you can’t? Here, look.” You say, pulling out your phone and snapping a quick selfie with him. “Watch, she won’t mind.”

You immediately send the selfie straight to her, with the small comment of “he agreed to be my wingman for the night.”

Instantly, she responds with a kissy emoji, wishing you luck on your dick-search. That’s it. That’s all she sends. Even you feel your heart drop a little for him at just how much she doesn’t seem to care considering he’s practically stroking out over the idea of being here.

“See?”

He nods, taking another drink from his cup and nodding even harder. Honestly feeling a bit better that she at least knows he’s here. Mostly because he didn’t even know how to tell her that he’s going out to a fucking club with her best friend.

“I’m so lame, god.” He laughs at himself, practically downing his drink by now and staring into your also already emptied cup. “I’ll go get us more drinks?”

You nod with a devilish grin, watching how his nervousness completely disappears to that of a confident man, in a club, who would have no issue with rejecting every single person who tries something with him.

There’s one issue though. Like, you commend him for that loyalty and you knew this would be a difficult task but, what if he genuinely rejects you too? Surely not, because at the end of the day, you’re the one who knows what’s happening behind his back.

Most people would at least tell him what’s going on before trying to seduce him, and in all fairness, you don’t know why you haven’t yet. You guess you’d rather have him cheat on her back, just to show her that he’s not going to sit here and wait on her like she’s expecting him to.

How is she gonna find out? You don’t know.

The night is good, rain dripping outside is easily drowned out by both the booming music and the loud laughter Wonwoo throws at you every few minutes from people watching. The two of you have barely moved from the love seat, but have continued to drink for hours now. At this point, you’re the one staring at him, and he doesn’t even seem to avert his eyes as he continues to drink.

From your tits to your eyes, to his jacket draped over you, all the way down to your legs and the way you move closer and closer to him, up to the point you throw both legs over his lap and he instantly grabs onto them to hold them in place.

Still, he’s laughing. Playing it off perfectly as if it’s not intimate, as if it’s not something he would avoid if he hadn’t already downed four drinks.

“Wonwoo,” You ask, getting closer to his ear to avoid yelling.

His voice booms back at you, still yelling.

“Yeah?” He responds, turning his cheek to meet yours in this moment of close conversation.

“You look really good tonight.,” You say directly into his ear, hoping he hears you as well as you hear yourself. You’re trying to tip-toe past a boundary, but it’s not like you’re lying.

“What?” He responds again, gripping your legs a bit tighter as he leans closer to you, his other hand reaching to your head to hold your lips closer against his ear. He really didn’t hear you, but it feels– you don’t know. It feels like something.

“I said, you look really good right now.” You half-laugh into his ear, and he responds with a soft chuckle before pulling away from you with a shake of his head.

“You’re being dumb,” He laughs as he continues to shake his head. “You’re just saying that because you’re drunk.”

“No, really,” You smile, playing it off much like he is. As if it’s a joke. Still, you crowd up to him again, lips right up against the shell of his ear and continue to sweet talk him. “She’s lucky, I’m a little jealous.”

You don’t hear him, but you can practically feel his skin go cold at your words. He doesn’t move, and you can argue that he doesn’t breathe for a solid thirty seconds. Which is strange because it’s not like the comment couldn’t be taken a few different ways. It appears he’s finally let it click in his head though. Right now, at this moment.

“Hm?” You continue against his ear.

Finally, he pulls from you, standing to his feet and letting your legs fall from his lap. You watch him nearly lose his balance as he tries to pretend he’s totally being normal about this, and totally not drunk.

“I’m gonna go get us another drink.” He says before walking off and not letting you say another word.

That, he does. He brings back another drink and appears now to be keeping his distance from you. And you, of course, with the alcohol bubbling in your belly, feel a bit too bold and far too interested in what you’re trying to do right now.

“Did she even call you today?” You ask, slowly making your way to the point of her not even texting him once she realized he was out with you tonight.

He shakes his head, then goes back to bobbing it to the music as if to borderline ignore you.

“Did she call yesterday?”

He ignores you.

“The day before that?”

He finally snaps his head over to you, brows furrowed in frustration as he fixes his drunken eyes on yours.

“What are you getting at? She’s busy!” He raises his voice at you, half-laughing at your questions toward him. You can’t tell if it’s because he’s pitying himself or if he thinks you’re trying to get him to cheat on her with you. The sad part is that it would be true either way.

“Oh. Yeah. She’s definitely ‘busy’.” You comment with a roll of your eye, practically downing half of your drink in one gulp before standing up and now trying to catch your own balance.

“If you’re gonna be this uptight, I’m just gonna go find someone else to hang out with.” You say defiantly, somehow hoping that he would get jealous.

He just watches you walk away, unsure of how he feels and instantly pulling out his phone to text his girlfriend. Partly just to see if she would respond, and only half because he hadn’t realized how much her communication to him had dropped.

You’re not having fun with this hot guy you found yourself grinding up against. You can feel the frustration in your bones with each grind, and even worse, you can feel his eyes on you in a way that’s very different compared to Wonwoo.

Sure, your tits are out and on display but it’s not like you did it for this guy. He eats it up in the way you want Wonwoo to. Even if his eyes are softer and full of doubt, this guy shows no shame in what he wants. He could have a wife at home, and still he’s looking at you without guilt.

Not that you support cheating. It’s a strange dilemma. Hating the fact that your best friend is doing it to Wonwoo, then countering her by fucking her man before letting him in on the reason why. It would be easier to just tell him, help him break up with her, and then woo him, but you feel angry enough for him that you prefer a more difficult route. The dramatic route. One that hurts her knowing he’s not bothered by her cheating because he has someone else to fuck now too.

Your drunk brain wonders what the fuck you’re doing here, with a guy that isn’t Wonwoo. So, your eyes wander around the room, landing on him still on that same love-seat, eyes glued to his phone.

Not-so-politely, you break away from the man attempting to shove his hand down your pants and head straight back over to him. You knew he wasn’t going to chase you out onto the floor after how rude you ended up being to him, but you really don’t have it in you to let him just sit in a club alone with a girlfriend two hours away probably taking some dude balls deep right now.

By the time you get to him and plop back down, he looks at you with a pained sort of face.

“Alright, turn it off.” You say, practically babying him as you grab his phone and hold the power button down. “She isn’t always the nicest.” You easily insult her to him, but he seems to agree by this point.

“She left me on read.” He says with an annoyed sigh. “You think she’s gonna break up with me?”

God, the pity you feel in that moment is intensely guilty. Because no, she’s not going to break up with him. It’s the other way around, actually.

“Hey, come on. You’re gonna ruin your buzz if you keep thinking about that.”

He nods to you, very nearly about to become the drunk-cryer before leaning against you with a heavy head, trying not to pay attention to your lack of reassuring him.

“Not sure why you’re jealous though, she hasn’t even let me visit her.” He laughs in a sad way. “Kinda wish she looked at me the way you do sometimes.”

He trails off, feeling you shift from under his head and take in a deep breath.

“You’re pretty attached, huh?” You ask, opting not to pry at this moment, opting not to feel jealous.

“Unfortunately.” He huffs, now lifting up and appearing to shake off his sadness. “Well, whatever happens, happens. At least I got you to hang out with.”

You nod proudly, now throwing your legs back onto his lap and staring at him.

“Yeah, whatever happens, happens.”

Oh boy, did stuff happen.

Stumbling into and out of a taxi happened, wobbling into his apartment happened, feeling him tug against your shirt as he fell into his bed, practically dragging you down on top of him, happened.

The most sobering moment was being entirely too drunk yourself to continue your plan with the night, stopping frozen as he looked up at you with a drunken smile and a small chuckle. The small voice coming from his lips saying, “You know, if I wasn’t with her I’d kiss you right now.”

You remember very nearly kissing him anyway, but opting to playfully cover his mouth and roll over and off of him before promptly passing out directly next to him.

And now you’re lying here at two in the afternoon, back facing him, with his arms clinging to you as if you belong here. You’re a little worried that he won’t remember what he said, and even more worried that he will. The hangover is prominent and booming in your skull, and partially you hope he’ll have a headache too blinding to even realize that the person he’s clinging to isn’t his girlfriend. It’s you.

Only a few minutes goes by before he stirs. His hands gripping you tightly, pulling you back and against him as he groans sleepily against your neck. You can practically feel his deep inhale of comfort by not waking up alone, until he freezes.

“Oh, fuck,” He says suddenly, in a voice more awake than ever. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to like–”

You roll over to look at him with your own sleepy smile, pretending as if you just woke up as well.

“It’s fine.” You assure him, sinking further into the blankets and trying to ignore your headache. “I cuddle with my friends all the time.”

He stays silent, not quite sure of how to navigate the situation but ultimately feeling the sharp pound in his head and throwing his head back against his pillow with a huff.

You’re a little sad that he doesn’t reach out again, but it’s kind of a given. The fact that he doesn’t ask you to leave his bed is enough for you right now.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” He asks reluctantly, internally hoping to god that you don’t. He vaguely remembers saying some stuff he shouldn’t have said, and doesn’t remember at all if he followed through with it or not.

You pick up on his tone of voice, careful and slow.

“Not really.” You say back, acting as if you’re falling back to sleep.

He breathes out a small breath of relief, allowing the silence to take over the room.

“Except for you saying you wanted to kiss me.”

Wonwoo is actually fucking horrified that you remember, reaching a hand to his temple and rubbing harshly in a self-soothing way.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” He says back quietly, feeling the air become heavier and heavier.

“Oh,” You start, feeling a bit of a pull inside of you. “Well, you were drunk, so I didn’t think you did anyway.”

He breathes out another sigh of relief.

“Still, it felt good knowing.” You add.

Wonwoo pauses, feeling the ground beneath threaten to crumble from under him, taking you, him, and his bed with it as he looks over at your back turned to him. Something inside of him is now pulling a bit as he studies the way you breath and lay against his plush pillows. Your voice sounded disappointed, and he doesn’t understand why he’s also disappointed in lying to you about it. He did mean it, but it doesn’t mean you were supposed to be aware of how much he wanted to kiss you. He can’t. He’s loyal.

Nevermind the fact that you’ve never slept over. Nevermind the fact that you’re in his fucking bed.

“I’m not going to tell her, don’t worry.” You say out to the silence, in such a tone that doesn’t really leave room for him to respond outside of feeling bad more for you, than for his girlfriend who can’t seem to give him the light of day.

There’s another long moment of silence, and part of him wonders if you’ve already fallen asleep again. He can feel his headache get louder and louder in his ears and opts to try and sleep more too, because it feels like a better idea than dealing with this heavy atmosphere.

And he’s not sure why he does it, but he very carefully rolls towards you and reluctantly puts an arm around you. It’s just cuddling, nothing more. Friends cuddle all the time, right?

When you shift under him, wrapping your fingers up with his, he’s unsure of why he doesn’t pull back, and even more unsure as to why your hand fits within his better than his own girlfriend’s does.

It’s been a week of silence from Wonwoo since the night you slept over. When you officially woke up, he was still next to you, curled in on himself despite falling asleep in a way that should have been more telling than the silence in the room. You didn’t wake him because you knew he was pretending. The hint was that he didn’t want to talk about it, and he definitely didn’t want to look you in the eye. You took the hint.

So, you went home expecting him to text you at some point during the day. He didn’t. The next day? Also nothing. And now, a week later, still nothing.

You’re a bit in your head. Each work day is filled with menial tasks that do not interest you, mostly because you can’t help but believe you went a bit too far. You were being too pushy, and it resulted in this. Now, even if you were to see him again, wearing those revealing outfits would feel more like a disrespect than a fun little game you’re playing.

It isn’t fair that he’s playing that game with you without knowing, and perhaps it’s time to just get down to the point and tell him. His girlfriend is cheating on him and you’ve been a bad friend to him. You could care less about how she feels about you trying to get her boyfriend in bed with you.

His loyalty never faltered past staring at you and drunkenly admitting that he would kiss you if he wasn’t in a relationship. The task you gave to yourself was stupid, and to think Wonwoo would really pick you over her while still being with her was arguably the worst idea of your life.

Your confidence has faltered beyond belief, to the point that expecting him to text now is null. Even if you were to reach out to tell him what’s happening behind his back, at this point it would just look like you’re trying to pry. Like you’re getting involved in a place you do not belong, and definitely weren’t invited. Possibly even, like you’re lying just to get to him.

And you know, you would have stuck with the plan of silence, the plan of moving on from the situation, until she decided to snap you a billion and one selfies just the night before. Then again, it shouldn’t have surprised you when you opened snapchat this morning to see her, again, in a bed that isn’t Wonwoo’s. She must be out of her damn mind because his bed was warm and his arms were warmer.

She, again, is smiling. She looks drowsy in each photo, the arm held against her gripping her tighter in each photo until you see a glimpse of his face.

It shouldn’t piss you off, honestly, it shouldn’t. But the fact that she’s in bed with that man and not Wonwoo? Huge downgrade. The fact that she’s smiling bigger than you’ve ever seen her smile with Wonwoo? Worst best friend ever.

You don’t even respond to her, and instead screenshot every single photo, ignoring the fact that it will notify her of it, and then you block her.

You get a text at lightning speed from her immediately after taking at least nine different screenshots, catching a glimpse of the first line of text stating “what are you screenshotting for?” before blocking her number as well.

And then you sit, staring at the dirt in your camera roll before pulling up Wonwoo’s text box.

Sitting there on your bedroom floor, you type out paragraph after paragraph explaining yourself and your behavior before dropping the bomb. Drafting it once, twice, erasing all of it and starting over. Then you get anxious and close out the text box, instead writing what you want to say in your head but never quite satisfied with it because, well, even if she’s cheating on him…there is no way to explain it in a way that would excuse how you’ve been acting towards him.

Wallowing in your own self-pity, you seem to lose the point of the matter. Wonwoo is the one being fucked over, seemingly by both of you. Your best friend is taking advantage of him and so are you.

Ding.

Your phone goes off next to you, and part of you assumes it’s your “best friend” texting you from that guy’s phone instead, but your stomach drops the second you see Wonwoo’s name.

Wonwoo: can you come over today?

You almost want to say that you can’t, despite obviously wanting to. You’re anxious, you’re feeling awful, and you’re pissed off at the entire situation.

You: why? what’s up?

Wonwoo: i wanna hang out?

Well, maybe you can take advantage of his ignorance one last time. Surely he feels the intense awkwardness between the two of you, and he’s probably just wanting to put that to rest by hanging out like before. So, naturally, you’re going to go over under the idea of hanging out, and then find a way to tell him. Making no mention of how long you’ve known this to be going on, making no mention of your little mind game, or the revenge.

After all, he deserves to know.

Wonwoo is a little bit surprised that you show up in appropriate clothing. Not a hardened nipple in sight and you’re wearing jeans to cover your legs. He tries not to look at you in disappointment at this moment, and thankfully it goes unnoticed by you because, well, you’re blatantly avoiding looking anywhere near his face.

He doesn’t like that you’re not looking at him. Hates that even an hour into the hangout, you’re offering very little conversation compared to normal. You’re not making jokes, you’re not flirting.

While this is going on, Wonwoo feels like he’s staring far more than usual. Noting little things about you that he hadn’t gotten to pay close attention to before. The way your skin looks, your posture, the way you make a certain face when you seem to be thinking about something.

In his head, he wonders if he prefers looking at you this way compared to simply staring at what your body could offer if he didn’t have a girlfriend. His heart still beats the same steady pace, but it doesn’t change the fact that he feels like, especially after last week, there’s something here and exploring it is something he’s been avoiding for far too long.

It’s been there for a long time, and you never showed much interest until after he started dating your best friend. The fact that you started doing all that stuff after she moved away, while he’s trying to make things work from a distance? It was a hard thought to grasp, a hard feeling to admit. It seems he already admitted it to himself though. Putting together puzzle pieces in his mind that don’t quite fit. Ones where it’s him and his girlfriend, trying to fit your piece somewhere near him. It never fit until it was just you and him.

He never wanted to admit how much he loved spending time with you, how much he loved looking at you, how badly he wanted to touch you. It only got worse after she left, and after you started being around him more without her. He would notice even more things about you that he liked, and the mental gymnastics only drove him to act like an idiot around you. It made him talk about his girlfriend more, as if to mute the thoughts he would have about you.

Now though? He’s had time to think, he’s had time to figure things out, and ultimately, he’s had time to miss you. To see what it would be like without you around him for more than two days.

He really did miss you. A lot. Arguably more than his girlfriend, who lives two hours away and hasn’t even allowed him to visit her. So, as he’s sitting next to you on the couch, he moves closer.

When you get up to grab something to drink, he’s right behind you, absentmindedly placing a hand on your waist to reach up into the cabinet to grab you a glass before you can do it yourself.

When you sit back down next to him on the couch, he scoots even closer, reluctantly throwing an arm over the back of the couch and gently playing with the collar of your shirt.

All of those tiny touches bring your eyes to him a few times. The feeling of intimacy is more overwhelming than the day you lost your virginity. You didn’t have to do anything to get him to do it either. You’re not even trying anymore, and here he is, finding ways to get closer to you. Finding ways to invite you into his personal space.

The air in his apartment feels intense. It feels untouchable to you in a way too, making your anxiety bubble even more as you waver on the line of telling him the truth or just enjoying the way he’s acting right now. There’s too much guilt involved though, as you turn to look at him and this time, you don’t break eye contact.

He can tell you want to say something, but knows that you probably won’t speak your mind.

“What’s gotten into you?” You finally ask after a long moment of staring at him, and he just shrugs.

“I just feel comfortable,” he tries to play it off, his mind feeling heavy with the fact that she hasn’t texted him for three days. “And little frustrated.”

Sexually. Considering he hasn’t touched a single person since she moved away. Not to mention the fact that you have been dressing in a way that made him need physical touch for so long now. Until today, anyway. All of those hang outs where you showed up looking ready to be touched, and then leaving untouched? All of those nights he spent alone in his room trying to get his girlfriend to call him, moan for him, or send him photos? All of those nights without love from either of you, and only love from himself.

“Oh, Why?” You ask, reluctantly. You’re nearly prepared to get up and leave, hoping that his frustration isn’t at you as a person, or about what happened last week.

“She hasn’t texted in a while and I’m starting to second guess some stuff, I guess.”

You look at him with a shocked expression, the guilt rising in you to the point that you very nearly start screaming out the secrets. But you don’t, because he continues.

“You’re not wearing the stuff you usually wear to try and impress me either, so I feel like I may have lost my shot.”

Oh.

You look away, a confused feeling inside of you now. The guilt of the situation turning into that of petty revenge yet again. This is what you wanted. Him making a suggestion, even while in a relationship, to want you, to have you, to need you.

“I want to kiss you, so bad.” He sighs out at your silence, flopping his head against the cushions of his couch and groaning in frustration. He squeezes his eyes shut, a face looking as though he was pained to say such a thing, but it’s more so just the frustration of wanting to kiss you, and never having the chance. Never being able to be in a position to do it. Never being the person you wanted to do it.

“Are you going to do it this time?” You say in a small voice, still looking at him and the way he shows his clear intentions even through the slouched posture on the couch.

The cushions are plush around his head, offering him a comfort that you assume you could never bring to him in a moment like this. Even when he turns his head to look at you, eyes darting across your face to search for your usual cheeky smirk or grin, and finding none of that.

It’s the first time either of you have crossed the line of flirting. There is no flirting to be had here, and only Wonwoo’s reluctant intimacy, his needy suggestions.

“Yeah.” He lets out with a sigh, now taking in a deep breath and still not moving from the couch.

You, on the other hand, unintentionally push the secret to the back of your mind. The sheer idea of him wanting to kiss you, and him actually planning to do it overshadows any other thought in your brain. As if the entire situation never happened, and it’s just you and him with no ties to other people.

As if he’s not in a relationship. As if you’re not actively trying to end that relationship.

It’s silent, and he’s still unmoving after saying that. You look away briefly, trying to muster up the courage to say something else. To encourage him, to do it yourself. Then, before you can even try, you feel the couch dip next to you, and when you turn back to look at him. He’s right there.

You can feel his breath fanning over you, only now noticing that he must have been sucking on that candy before for this very reason. The scent of something fruity and sweet overpowering your senses as the two of you blink at each other.

You watch as his eyes go from open, to hooded, and you feel his palm against your cheek. The warmth of it lulling your own eyes to close.

The first feeling of his lips felt like any other kiss. Plush and warm. His lower lip slots between yours in a simple way, and he stays like that briefly before pulling back and looking at you.

His insides are buzzing, unsure as to why this feels so insane right now. He’s kissed before, so many times. He’s made out, he’s fucked. He’s done everything, but with you, it’s different. And it’s so fucking cliche to think about. Never did he think kissing you would feel any different.

But it does. And maybe it’s because your lips are prettier than his girlfriend’s, maybe it’s because the candy he had made the kiss all the sweeter. Maybe it’s because you’re here, and she’s not.

Or maybe, it’s because he actually likes you.

It only continues from there, his lips falling to yours once more, and then twice more, until he’s managed to cup your face in both of his hands and really kiss you. His tongue slipping in with ease and not at all as reluctant as his hands.

You kiss him back, seemingly trying to take what you can get before he realizes what’s happening and ultimately runs away from this.

With each passing moment, it’s what you expect to happen but, for him, each passing moment is only going further and further past the boundary line. His tongue continues moving against yours, his lips continue to fit perfectly with yours, and he keeps going until he’s breathless.

When he pulls back this time to breathe, his hands go from your face to your shoulders, running down your waist until he grips your hips and pulls you forward. You don’t budge at first, looking at him and his candy kissed lips.

He seems confident when he pulls at you again, and again, until you follow where his hands are pulling you. Directly on top of him.

There, he positions himself much like he did when he said he was going to kiss you. Head pressed back into the cushions, eyes closed before half-opening to look at you with a serious expression. Seeing him from this angle, with your legs thrown on either side of him, straddling him?

That angry feeling inside of you bubbles up again. This is what your best friend can fucking have? And she’s not doing it? She’s not here right the fuck now, sitting on her pretty boyfriend? With his stupid warm hands holding her so delicately on his lap? With his messy hair and pretty lips?

You groan as you look at him, moving your hand to pinch the bridge of your nose and shake your head.

“Hm? What’s up?” He asks, in his own little world with you, his girlfriend so far in the back of his brain that he doesn’t seem to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

“I just,” You start, adjusting your eyes back to him and taking in his image once again. This time feeling like the breath is knocked out of you with the way he’s looking at you. You forgot what you wanted to say.

“Are you worried?” He asks, bringing his hand back up to your face and running the back of his fingers against your lips.

It’s something that makes you feel like he’s not taken. It makes you feel like he wants to be taken though, by you, specifically.

You shake your head, kissing his fingers as they continue to make their way back and forth across your lips. Only slightly sticking out your tongue to lick them, before he runs that hand to the collar of your shirt and pulls you down and against him.

There, before you can even think to pull yourself back up, he’s wrapping his arms around you in a hug, letting your head lay against his shoulder as he talks.

“You really have no idea, do you?”

On the fucking contrary. He’s the one who has no idea.

“How long have I wanted to hold you like this?” He continues, still hugging you too tight for you to lift up enough to look at him. “Do you know?”

You shake your head, digging deep in your brain and finding no hints from him that would indicate such a thing.

“Since before you approached me to meet her.” He says, dropping the bomb that he’s still not yours, all while holding you as if you’re his. “Since that time you asked my friend for help on campus opening your bottle.”

“That was over a year ago.” You comment in disbelief, noting that college life felt so far away despite it not being a distant memory at all.

In fact, you remember the way he wanted to help before his friend did. You didn’t know him until that moment, and only knew his friend from a few classes.

“From the first second, I think,” He ponders, his grip on you loosening as he lets you raise up slightly to look at him. “I think this is what I wanted from then on.”

“Then why are you with–”

He cuts you off, kissing you again and ultimately doing the job of shutting your brain off so well that you can only believe he was meant to be the one doing it.

And there, the two of you sit like that with no goal in mind. Just kissing, just feeling, just enjoying. With each breath you need to take, the kisses only come back more intense, up until you think a solid hour passes.

Never have you made out for this long without a hand in your pants, or your hand in someone else’s pants. Arguably, you feel as if you need your hand in his pants by now, especially because you can feel how aroused he’s been.

He never pushed for more though, with his length sitting directly under you and his little relieved breaths each time you adjusted your body on his to kiss him deeper. You can imagine his legs must be going numb by now too, but he leaves no room for complaints.

None of his little sounds seem to come from pain, and the fact that this alone is enough to satisfy him brings that angry feeling back. You can imagine he must love to go slow. He must enjoy taking his time, and being gentle, sweet, and loving. Your best friend is so fucking different. You’ve heard of her sexual endeavors, you’ve seen them both in photos, videos, and hell, even in the same room as you because the bitch has no comprehension of personal space.

Only now do you realize that during her entire relationship with Wonwoo, she never talked about sex with him. She never sent photos, videos, or was all over him when the three of you hung out. You assumed it was because it was his boundary. You know she doesn’t respect boundaries though, so clearly not.

“I don’t know.” Wonwoo suddenly whispers between kisses, forcing you to search your brain as to what he must be referring to.

“Hm?” You hum into his insistent lips, only giving enough space for him to offer short bursts of conversation.

“Why am I with her, that’s what you were going to ask, right?” He says, pulling back and letting you look at him.

You nod reluctantly, trying not to feel his arousal beneath you twitch against your ass.

He shrugs.

“Does it really even matter?” He asks, now moving his body in a way that suggests you should stand, and you do.

You stay silent, watching him stand to his feet in front of you, looking down at you.

“Does it?” He asks again, looking at you for an answer.

You shake your head, watching him slowly take a step back, and back, and back. Fully aware of the fact that he’s making his way to his room, and knowing you’re going to follow him.

You do, following him until you get close enough that he grabs you again and holds you against his chest, expertly walking backwards in his apartment straight to his bedroom door. You could do that too, if you wanted to, because you’ve been here more times than you can count.

There, he continues to hold you in his grasp, inhaling the scent of your hair, running his hands down and slipping them under your shirt, rubbing your back.

You’re the one who snakes an arm around him to open his bedroom door, and he very nearly trips backwards. The chaos of you falling on top of him wouldn’t be the most awful error, with the way he keeps getting caught up with simply fucking hugging you. Thankfully though, he doesn’t fall.

Instead, he regains the control of his body and turns both of you around, now forcing you to walk back until your knees hit his bed and you’re falling back with him on top of you.

It’s silent again save for a small laugh from him, and he still just stares at you. As if he’s taking you in for the first time each time he does this.

He pulls his arms from under you and adjusts them now to where one is holding up his weight, and the other is once again fiddling with the collar of your shirt. There, he leans down and kisses the side of your mouth before moving down your neck, stopping where his fingers are toying with your shirt.

“I’m so hard,” He whispers against your neck, thrusting his hips forward and against your leg. “Can you touch me?”

You pause at the feeling of your heart fluttering, the warmth of his breath against your skin only heightens the feeling and you intentionally lift your leg slightly to bump against his length.

He lets out a pleased sigh at the feeling, tensing his hips against your leg and kissing against your neck again, beginning to suckle in that same spot.

His hands move up and down your body as he chases the friction your leg offers, slowly lifting your shirt, up until he has to remove his lips from your skin to get it off of you, only to immediately place them right back there, and sucking harder against your collar bone.

You feel his length throbbing against your leg with each little movement of his hips, and the pained feeling of your blood vessels being bursted with his mouth, the feeling of his hands now running up to your bra, intentionally moving the fabric just to free one of the breasts he’s spent too much time staring at before.

When he does that, you feel him release your skin from his mouth and groan out at the first glimpse of real naked flash, now running his lips straight to your nipple and sucking there instead. His hips moving faster against you until he can barely stand it.

He releases your nipple with a pop sound before looking at you, his eyes shining in a new way. He studies the way you lay beneath him, then looks down at his cock chasing the feeling of your slightly raised leg before he laughs at himself. Only slightly, a very small laugh.

“I feel so desperate…” He comments, shifting his hips harder. “and I don’t care.” He adds, reaching for your bra and pulling it off of you without so much as unhooking it. Then he goes straight for his shirt, lifting it off of his body just a quickly before lying against you just to feel the warmth.

“Are you okay with this?” He finally says, in a smaller voice, with a little less confidence.

Of course you are, even with all of the things unspoken about this situation, and what could come of it.

You offer him a small nod, moving your hands up to his hair and pulling a bit, as if to guide his lips back to your nipple. He follows with ease, smiling around the hardened nub and flicking it with his tongue before immediately pulling back and looking at you.

He’s fucking beaming. Never have you seen him look so happy. He’s practically glowing as he looks at you, and it makes you feel like your heart is going to thump out of your chest. You smile back, feeling like you both must look so stupid right now. He’s cheating right now, and you both couldn’t be happier about it.

“You’re so…” You start, your voice coming out cheerful and pleased. “cute.”

He raises a questionable brow at the choice of words there, wanting nothing more than to seem sexy, or like, arousing to you. But he will take it at face value, and hope that someday, maybe he’ll be more than just cute.

He hums, leaning back down to your nipple yet again, suckling it between his teeth before finally moving over to the other, warming up the skin there and leaving no part of you without a tingling sensation.

His hips have stilled, but you can still feel him ache against you, so you make it a point to raise your leg higher, moving it against him until he can’t stop releasing little moans from around your nipple. You keep doing that, up until he releases your skin with a deep sigh, one that feels painful.

“I want you so bad.” He groans, lifting fully from you and towering over you.

You look up at him, eyes trailing his chest and abs before focusing on his hands, which lifts from you and travels to the button of his pants.

It’s going to happen. It’s really gonna fucking happen now. You’re happy, your heart is fucking threatening death on you, and your entire body is reacting to him at this moment in the form of warmth soaking your panties.

He watches you watch him, your eyes practically urging him to do exactly what he’s intending to do, and he’s even more happy to oblige. Making a show of unbuttoning his pants, unzipping, and then pausing.

“Hey, look at me.” He says playfully, watching you struggle to move your eyes back up to his. “Keep looking at me.”

God, it truly is a fucking struggle to keep your eyes on his, despite how much you’ve grown to love how passionate they are when he looks at you. In your peripheral vision, you can see him lower his pants, you can see his hand reaching to pull his cock from his briefs, and you can even see him tug against it a few times, all while he’s smiling directly at you. Knowing you want to see it.

“How does it feel to have someone flash what you want in front of you, but not being able to really look?” He asks, again in a playful voice.

You roll your eyes at him, then dart them straight down and take in a deep inhale at how big he appears to be. Even against his hands, large and slender, his cock is arguably something that will feel new to you in size alone.

Honestly, you can’t fucking comprehend your “best friend” moving away and leaving that behind. Choosing someone else, letting someone else inside of her. Looking at it alone has your entire body in hyper-awareness of how badly you want it. You want him. Not even for revenge, but just to show him that he is fucking wanted. He is desired, and he isn’t worth fucking leaving.

You’re still staring when he shuffles back, landing his hands on your pants to try and get them off of you too, but you stop him. Shooting up from your back and nearly throwing yourself into a dizzy fit before grabbing onto him and pushing him from the bed.

He’s a little shocked, and definitely confused, until he realizes what you’re doing. You shift to lying on your stomach, face level with his hips.

“Oh,” He lets out, noting the way you’re grabbing his hips and bringing him forward again, his knees hitting his bed and the head of his cock hitting your lips. “Oh, shit.” He grits out, feeling you instantly take him into your mouth without even so much as suggesting you wanted to do this.

If there was a line to cross, it was already crossed, but this means there’s no turning back. And he’s fucking fine with it. His “girlfriend” never seemed this excited to do this. She was actually, um, quite boring in bed. Not to compare her to you or anything, it’s just, you know–

You can feel him tremble when you take him deeper into your mouth, honestly just wanting to show him how much you want this. You take him deeper, and deeper, until your throat constricts around him and you feel him tap at your shoulder and slide himself out.

“You don’t have to do that,” He comments, slightly out of breath, a tint of red fanning over his cheeks. “You really, really, don’t have–”

He’s cut off by you ignoring him, doing the exact thing that’s getting him to act like this. Taking more and more until your throat constricts again, and you continue to let your throat stimulate him.

“Fuck.” He moans in another shaky breath, showing that he’s still trembling, much like you are.

He doesn’t argue this time though, instead he opts to find out where the fuck he should put his hands. One lands on your head briefly, before it moves to your cheek to feel how hollowed out they are, then it ends up running through his hair, to amplify the feeling of pleasured insanity running through his body right now.

And when you pull back to breathe, you feel his hips chase the warmth of your throat. Gagging you once more before he sputters out a small apology, heaving in a breath and trying to steady his thoughts of how fucking amazing you are.

You smile at him, wiping the corners of your mouth before planting a kiss to the head of his length, tasting the salty pre-cum that you hadn’t gotten to taste before, considering how deep you took him into your mouth.

He still looks at you, dazed and totally infatuated with the way you look so proud of yourself. His cock twitching in front of your face, his eyes keeping the same passion. Before you can even go back in for more, he’s reclaiming his control.

“Roll over,” He says, not trying to seem demanding.

To you though, it just seems desperate, in a good way. A great way.

You do, rolling over and seeing him lean over you to quickly undo your pants, his cock literally right on your face. You playfully lick the base, feeling his entire body twitch as he laughs.

“Stop.” He chuckles at his own sensitivity, trying to shove your pants down in the awkward position.

“Don’t put it on my face then.” You argue, licking again.

He finally steps back with another laugh, removing his length from the assault of your tongue and throwing himself onto the bed, finishing the task of taking off your pants.

He briefly notes the wet spot on your panties, sighing in relief with a smile before he balances himself on one arm beside your head and leans down to kiss you.

You let him. Feeling entirely desired and wanted by him. The kiss is just as deep as the ones before, but this time you have the breath knocked out of you. You can feel his fingers moving your panties and going straight for your clit.

Your mouth falls slack against his, letting out a sigh that he swallows up enthusiastically.

He continues that, sliding his fingers up and down your folds, circling your clit, kissing you, chuckling to you, licking against your tongue before experimenting with sliding a finger into you.

He only stops kissing you at that moment, looking down at where his finger disappears inside of you, and then searching your face for a reaction. You look back at him with a dazed smile, slightly nodding with another long and drawn out sigh.

Then he slides his finger out, and slides in two, a bit harsher this time. Effectively fucking his fingers into you only twice before you’re pulling him back down and into a rough and messy kiss.

His hand continues to fuck into you as his tongue counters the motion with slow drags of his tongue against yours, as if he’s tasting each moan you give to him. The candied flavor of his lips is more dull now that you think you’ve kissed the flavor out of him. You imagine he can feel exactly how much you want him, with the way you’re grasping him, the way you’re moaning for him, the way you’re kissing with no rhyme or reason.

His hands get rougher and rougher as the minutes pass, up until he can feel you dripping against his knuckles and hopefully onto his bed.

“So wet,” he compliments you through a breathy kiss. “So pretty.” He adds, pulling back to really see how you look while being fucked.

You hum in response, spreading your legs a bit more, now using your own body to fuck against his fingers. Wanting more of him, wanting them deeper.

“Wonwoo,” You sigh out, feeling the slide of his fingers continue to drench themselves into the heat of your pussy. “Please tell me you’re going to fuck me.”

He continues to look at you, his cock twitching at the words as he dips his head in a small and, somehow shy, nod. All he needed was for you to ask. Now all he needs is to feel you stretch around his aching cock, relieving him of the intensity of how badly he’s wanted to be inside of you for so fucking long.

“Just tell me when.” he whispers, letting his fingers continue to do the work.

“Now.”

Well, you don’t have to ask him twice. He smiles, popping one more kiss to the corner of your mouth before lifting from you and staring down at the way you slide yourself on his fingers. Imagining briefly what you’d look like doing that to his cock. Closing his eyes tightly at the image and nearly whining out in pleasure at the image.

You’re a little shocked at first, with the way he pulls his fingers out, removes your panties, and instantly lays his cock against your core. Sliding it through your folds and humming at how wet you manage to coat his length. He does that for a little too long, but you watch him. He’s enjoying the image, staring straight down and seemingly focused on burning the image of his cock sliding against you in his mind.

And when he does finally position himself, he’s quick to grab one of your legs and place it over one of his shoulders, before sliding in slightly, then doing the same with your other leg.

There he stares down as he sinks into you, watching how deep his cock can go, feeling and seeing you pulse around him in a harsh and searing stretch.

Then, he looks at you and the way you’re lying under him with a face that resembles both pain, release, and pleasure. It drives him further, fitting his cock into you as if it was made for you and you alone.

You, on the other hand, feel as though you’re being split in fucking half by the sheer length of him. He just keeps pressing in, deeper, deeper, deeper. Until your legs tremble on his shoulders and he’s quick to turn his face to land a gentle kiss against your calf, as if to soothe you.

He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to though. When he bottomed out on you, all he could do was sit there and feel your pussy adjust to him. It felt so fucking good, so tight, so wet. All of it had him nearly not even thinking with his own brain. It made him want to say filthy things, seeing you stretched out on him, feeling your legs tremble even through his soothing kisses. Seeing your hands weakly grip at the sheets above your head.

Only now, does he slide out to offer you a bit of relief, watching your face and the way you take in deep breaths before releasing them with sweet sounds for him. He slides back in, letting out his own moan before gripping one of your legs to hold it in place and holding your thigh with the other. There, he finds a rhythm. One that has you moaning with each thrust, out of breath, and your legs trembling even more.

One that has him feeling like he could do this for hours. Loving the way he fits into you, loving the way your tits move with each thrust, obsessed with the way your voice translates pleasure for him.

He thinks he might be in love, fucking into you as if his life depends on it. As if his “girlfriend” never laid under him like this. Because she did, and somehow it never felt as good as it does with you.

Even through the silence save for moaning and breaths, it feels more intense than fucking ever has for him and he doesn’t want it to end. He loves the way your pleasure squeezes his length so tightly. He loves the little sounds you make, and fucking adores the way you still try to meet him half way with his thrusts. Like you’re urging for more, like you’re loving it, like you’re loving him.

He does this for a while, internally falling in love with you over and over again with each moan, each clench of your pussy, each fucking tremble. That is only heightened when he manages to move a hand to your clit, fighting your weak hands to push them away from you as he stimulates the sensitivity beyond belief.

You moan out for him, both chasing the feeling and urging him to stop because you don’t want this to end either. He chooses to keep going though, watching you reach your arms up to him, as if you’re calling to him through the intense sensitivity.

He’s so quick to let your legs fall from his shoulders as he intertwines his fingers with yours on one hand, the other keeping up the pressure against your clit. He leans closer to you now, face inches from your as he looks at you

“You’re so fucking pretty like this.” He compliments directly against your lips. “It isn’t fair.”

You can hardly comprehend what he’s saying, feeling his hips pick up intensity now that he’s even closer to you. The angle change makes the slide of his cock feel perfect inside of you, bumping every sensitive spot alongside his fingers caressing your clit, it sends you over edge without so much as a silent warning.

Honestly, it happens before he even realizes it himself. Feeling your pussy stutter around his length and the way you hold your breath as you try to kiss him at the same time. He tries to slow down to feel it, encouraging you to let it go while feeding into the one sided kiss. His fingers are still toying with you, wanting you to give him your all as you release. As he slows his hips, the slow drag of his cock inside of you continues to fuck you through your orgasm until he stops moving completely, unaware of how much you’re stimulating him through your orgasm, he pulls out half way in a panic.

“Hold on–” He breathes against your lips before throwing his head back and trying to convince himself not to come. “Stop clenching, fuck.”

You could argue, but honestly you’re about as stupid as he appears to be right now. Clenching harder at his words and the way his body jerks inside of you as he presses all the way back in again. Prolonging your orgasm past your own comprehension.

You moan louder in surprise, and there he goes.

Losing his goddamn mind inside of you as he releases, almost forgetting where he is as he pumps every single bit of his come into you with full fucking intention. Wanting you to feel it as he kisses you through it, wanting you to know just how much he could give to you, and ultimately feeling satisfied with the way you cling to him as he does it.

Up until both of you are breathless, trembling, and a fucking mess when he pulls out of you.

The silence in the room came back after the two of you caught your breath, Wonwoo was quick to clean both of you up, knowing for a fact that a shower will need to be in the plan within the next ten minutes.

But also, something else has come back to the front of his brain. Since, you know, he kind of lost his mind for a while there.

“Why didn’t you tell me she was cheating on me?”

“How did you–” You start, immediately pulled out of your post-sex daze. The glow of your skin disappearing and replacing itself with guilt and panic.

“When I asked her, she asked if you told me.” He responds, as nonchalant as ever. Showing no anger toward you for knowing.

It seems he figured it out on his own.

“Oh….”

“You could have just told me instead of letting me sit there and suffer abouting wanting you at the same time. Do you realize how awful that made me feel?”

You’re not prepared for this conversation, as much as you’d like to be.

“I was trying to get back at her.” You say in a small voice, feeling ashamed.

“Well, we definitely did.” He starts, tapping the bottom of your chin and forcing you to look up at him. “You should have told me though, instead of trying to take matters into your own hands.”

You look at him, searching for any hint of anger or disappointment and finding none. If anything, you see the frustration, possibly part of what he referred to before he fucked you. Before he definitely didn’t cheat on his “girlfriend” with you.

“We did?” You start, glancing away from him. “She knows we–?” You continue, wondering how the fuck the two of you would have gotten back at her if you only just had sex.

“Oh, right.” He puts a finger in the air. “I kind of jumped the gun and told her not to feel bad because I cheated on her too.”

“What?! With who?” You panic, wondering if the silence of last week was him fucking the sad out of him with someone else.

“You.” he pauses, avoiding eye contact. “Then I hung up and waited a few days to decide on what to do. I ended up texting you to come over so I could make good on my promise.”

“And if I wasn’t interested?”

“You were clearly interested.”

#wonwoo smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #jeon wonwoo smut

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changbunnies · 4 months

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All About You, (18+)

♡ Pairing: Royal Knight/Bodyguard!Minho x Princess!Reader

♡ Genre: royal au, historical au, arranged marriage au (reader only), age gap, angst, kind of forbidden love? (maybe more than kind of), basically porn with plot

♡ Word Count: 7.5k

♡ Summary: You, the princess who ran away from the castle after finding out your father, the king, has finalized your arranged marriage. Minho, your royal knight and glorified bodyguard, tasked with bringing you back home at all costs. When found, you hit Minho with a very interesting proposition- for him to be the one you share all your "firsts" with, instead of your inevitable husband.

♡ Warnings: age gap !! reader is ~23 while minho is in his 40s, please don't read if this makes you uncomfortable!, uneven power dynamics, outdated traditions and views on women to suit the setting, brief reference to death by guillotine, and death in general, mentions of injury and swordfighting

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): lowkey corruption kink, loss of virginity (reader), petnames (princess (mostly as a title), good girl), slight sub + dom dynamics, soft dom minho, submissive reader, a lot of kissing (should be expected from me atp), nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), slight overstim, unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, creampie

♡ Notes: at this point i am determined to write a royal, historical au fic for every member, and my newest offering to you is minho <3 i was literally possessed writing this like once the idea hit my brain i had to get it out asap lmao you can also read the story on my ao3 here, and if you're interested you can also check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Fuck. Minho was absolutely fucked. In recent years, he had one job, and one job only, and that was to take care of the princess. Make sure she’s safe, escort her to where she needs to be and watch over her at all times- that’s all. Not always an easy job, but one of vital importance that Minho took with utmost seriousness. In the 3 years it’s been since becoming your royal knight and glorified bodyguard, he never messed up this critically.

You always had a rebellious streak and challenged authority, everyone in the castle knew that. And part of Minho’s job, apart from keeping you safe, was keeping you in check- and the king made it extremely clear that failing to do so was not an option. So he lost track of the amount of times he uttered the words “Princess, please think rationally,” or “Please consider your responsibility to the kingdom, don’t do this,” in a near desperate attempt to get you to listen to reason.

And today, he fucked up the worst he ever had. He knew you were upset tonight, but he was under the impression he successfully calmed you down, and that you wouldn’t do anything rash. He turned his back to you, thinking the storm had been quelled, and that you’d listen to your father, even if doing so felt like pulling teeth. He underestimated however, just how deep your sadness and anger truly ran, and the very moment you saw an opening, you took it.

You fled from the castle with blind determination, nowhere to go and with little of value in your hands, fueled purely by the desire to escape your unfair circumstances, and live your own life by your own means. You may not believe it, but Minho understood, and felt for you- he really did. But that didn’t change what his duty was, and even if it made you hate him, he had to do his job to the best of his ability.

So now here he was, roaming the streets looking for you, the hours passing in a blur. You must’ve done a good job of concealing your identity, because no one he asked had seen a young woman matching your description, and as the minutes ticked by, and sunset turned to midnight, he was at a complete loss of what to do. He made record time combing the entire bustling town, stopping into places full to the brim with people in the hopes he’d catch a glimpse of you in the crowd, and yet there seemed to be no trace of you anywhere.

It was easy for someone to hide their presence in a crowd, or in the rowdy environment of a tavern, and you were more than intelligent enough to blend into a crowd and divert attention away from yourself. It was entirely possible that Minho had seen you at some point, and simply didn’t realize it, though he liked to believe he’d recognize you anywhere, no matter what you wore. Minho scowled, clenching his teeth as he scanned the dark horizon of the treeline; should he check the outer walls of the town for a clue, or double back and check the streets again?

He doubts you made it out of the town easily, considering you likely had no money on your person and little experience with the realities of the world. You were intelligent, yes, but sheltered; he could easily imagine you quickly getting in over your head, thinking you could make it to the next town without issue, only to end up lost and in need of help, with no one for miles to hear your desperate cries.

Fuck. If he couldn’t find you, his head would most certainly be meeting the cold steel of a guillotine. He had no family who would mourn his loss, but still, he wasn’t ready to face his mortality. And the king, despite being someone he could call a close friend, would spare no mercy if he failed to keep his one and only daughter safe. But really, there was more to it than just the threat of death that kept him searching for you. Believe it or not, he genuinely wanted you safe and well, and he'd do anything to ensure you made it back home, even if it made you curse him for the rest of his days.

As if God himself heard his prayers and decided to grant him a miracle, Minho sees you- there, on the outskirts of town, holding your cold hands up to your face and letting your breath warm them. It’s dark, the street barely even illuminated enough to discern your recognizable features, but he knows without a doubt that it's you standing there in the cold street, because truly, he knows you anywhere.

By the time you realize you’ve been spotted and recognized, it’s already much too late to flee. Minho approached you with utmost haste, reaching out and grabbing your arm, lest you make the foolish decision to try to escape again. His hold, while not rough enough to hurt you, is firm, and it only takes one attempt at pulling your arm from his hold to know this is it; your escape attempt has failed, and you’ll be dragged back to the castle and reprimanded for your “temper tantrum.”

Your father never listens to you, no matter how hard you try to make him understand and see your point of view. Maybe if you were born a boy, your opinions would be important to him, and he’d see you are more than an object to pawn off to whatever man gave him the most political power. “Princess-” “I’m not going home,” you interject before he even has a chance, though you already know it’s in vain. There is no avoiding returning to your glorified prison now that Sir Minho has you in his grasp.

He sighs, but his face changes to one of sympathy, his grip on your arm loosening ever so slightly. “Can we at least go to an inn room? It’s not safe for a young lady to be on the streets at night,” he reasons with you, as gently as he can manage. Normally Minho is quite stern with you, but you get the impression that he feels being stern isn’t the right approach tonight. You’re known for expressing yourself very vocally, even when doing so is extremely ill-advised, and he is well aware of how opinionated and fiery you are.

But treating this display as anything other than a genuine act of desperation, a culmination of years of perceived disrespect and conformity, would be another critical error- one he can’t afford to make. So he will be firm, yes, but gentle in his approach. You frown as you look at him; you’re stubborn by nature, and part of you wants to fight against him until the bitter end, but he’s not wrong about the streets being unsafe for you at night. You know he won’t let you escape again come morning, but that’ll have to be a problem for later; for right now, you really should heed his advice and go to an inn for the night.

“Fine,” you concede, much to Minho’s relief. He could’ve forced you to go with him if he really needed to, but he’d rather avoid doing something so unpleasant. He leads you to a nearby tavern, which is still bustling with activity even at the late hour. He keeps you close as he pushes through the crowd of rowdy drunks to the dual innkeep-bartender, hoping that there is still a room available. The man departs, coming back with a key dangling in hand, “You’re in luck. Last room’s all yours.”

Minho thanks the man and pulls out his satchel to pay him, leaving a few extra coins as a tip before stashing it back in his pocket, along with the key he was given, and the two of you go up the stairs together. “There’s only one bed,” you comment as you step inside the room, though Minho doesn’t seem to care much about that fact. “That’s fine, don’t plan on sleeping anyways,” he says as he removes his leather scabbard from his back, resting it against the back of the chair in the corner of the room.

You frown as you sit on the bed and watch him; he must’ve been in a hurry when he received word you fled from the castle, as he wasn’t wearing any of his armor, strictly in casual wear you’d very rarely seen him in. Probably for the best, you think, because if anyone saw a royal knight desperately searching the streets, multiple alarms would be raised. He lights the fireplace, hoping to quickly spread some heat throughout the cold room, before he sits in the chair, crossing his arms and watching you carefully.

Deserved, you suppose. How is he supposed to trust you’re not going to flee at the first available moment just as before? You certainly don’t make his job easy for him; he can’t take his eyes off you for a second. The silence between you lingers for some time, the crackling of the fire the only sound either of you hear, apart from the muffled patrons enjoying their drinks downstairs. Minho, despite his relaxed posture, looks like he’d be ready to jump up at a moment's notice should he need to.

You sigh; should you just try to sleep? It’d feel awkward and uncomfortable to try to fall asleep with someone's eyes boring holes into you, but you really didn’t give him much of a choice. “Do you want to tell me why you ran away from the castle?” Minho asks suddenly, breaking the tempered silence between you. “You already know the answer to that,” you respond, crossing your own arms now.

“Is marrying Sir Jin really so bad?” he asks, and you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yes, obviously. I don’t want to. Not that you or my father care about me or anything I think.” Minho’s brow furrows, the frown on his face growing. “Princess, you know that’s not true. I do care about you.” “Do you? I haven’t been able to tell in the slightest,” you counter a bit harshly, “and you could help me if you wanted to, you know. I’d be fine out there if I was with you.”

Okay, maybe you’re not being fair to Minho right now. You do know he cares, but realistically, what is he supposed to do? If he disobeyed your fathers orders, he’d be lucky if his only punishment was a swift death. He was assigned to you because your father trusts him to do the right thing and follow orders dutifully, a trust that is usually not misplaced. But he has to admit, the more and more time he spends with you, the more he feels for you.

Minho never knew your father, the king, to be an unreasonable or cruel man, but in your eyes, he might as well be the devil himself. And maybe he is cruel- because how do you strip someone of their freedom and choices for your own gain, and not see the harm it causes, the wrong in it? You are more than a pawn, more than a subject, more than his daughter- you are a person. A person with thoughts, feelings, and opinions as real as any mans, who did not deserve to be treated lesser than for the simple crime of being born a girl.

But what is Minho if not an upholder of the status quo? He was just a single man, and even if he recognized how unfairly you were treated in comparison to the golden child that was your elder brother, what was he supposed to do? He always performed his tasks dutifully and without question, and it wasn’t until he met you that he began to struggle with what he should do, and what he wants to do.

And maybe he could get you out of this town, help you live a quiet, modest life somewhere new, away from the watchful eye of your father. Where he could be your protector, same as now, but without the guilt, burden, or threats. You know you shouldn’t take your frustrations about your life out on Minho, but he’s really all you have. You trust him with your life, and he’s shown you multiple times that he cares about you beyond the duty he has to you, or to your father. He's your only confidant, the only person in the world you can rely on.

Your eyes linger on the scar across his nose- he got it protecting you, the other man’s sword barely missing his eyes and cutting just across his face, and it was only one of many scars he obtained in his service to you. He’d pick you up and run with you in his arms when you were injured, he’d fight off attackers without breaking a sweat, sustain injury after injury all to make sure you were safe. You’d watch his back, always stunned and mesmerized at the ease at which he cut down your enemies, as if they were nothing but paper.

When he’d turn back to you, breathing heavy and sweat only just starting to trickle on his brow, his eyes would turn from the harshest winter chill to the gentle warmth of a spring morning. He was quiet, stern, but his care ran far deeper than one would think just by looking at him, and all you had to do to see the true depth of his feelings was look in his eyes. So you knew it was unfair to accuse him of not caring about you, to expect him to go above and beyond for you, to ask that he go against your father to give you what you want, but you were just so sad, frustrated, angry, that you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Maybe you’ll grow to love him if you give him a chance,” Minho suggests; you both know that’s never going to happen, but what else can he say? He never married, and had no children, dedicated to his duty as he was; he had no real advice to offer someone when it came to love, romance, and the like, but he imagined it wasn’t impossible to fall in love if you just met Sir Jin with an open mind.

But as stated, that’s never going to happen. You’re stubborn to a fault, and once you’ve decided something, there’s no changing it. The best Minho can ever manage to do is get you to reconsider, but even then, you’re still likely to go about things the way you originally wanted to, with no regard for consequences or keeping up appearances. You’re a fiery woman, there was no doubt about it, and you don’t let go of things easily.

“The mere thought of giving that man all my firsts makes me sick, it’s vile,” you scrunch up your nose, making your distaste for the man very clear. Minho doesn’t even think you’ve actually met the man yet, but you’ve already decided you hate him, that you don’t want to marry him, and so you’ll be firmly stuck in your opinion no matter what anyone says.

“Maybe this isn’t advice I should be giving you, but.. You don’t necessarily have to. To give him your firsts, or love him. Find someone you do love, even if you have to keep it a secret, and hold him with all you’ve got. It still wouldn’t be ideal, of course, but.. Well, it’d be something, at least.” Really, Minho is supposed to encourage you to be an obedient daughter and listen to your father without question, but he knows you well enough to know that’s a fool's errand.

You’re never going to listen, never going to be obedient, never going to stop being opinionated. So what’s the next, most realistic piece of advice he can give? Lie, of course. Make your father and inevitable husband believe you’re a good, obedient wife and daughter, and then go live the life you really want behind their backs. It's dishonest as all hell, and there would be consequences if you got caught, but if you’re going to be miserable no matter what you do, you might as well try, right? It’s what Minho would do if he were you, anyways.

“What about you?” you ask and Minho raises a brow in question. “What about me?” he asks, and what you respond with makes him feel like the air has been punched out of his lungs. “What if I gave my firsts to you?” Did he hear you right? There must be some mistake with his ears, there’s absolutely no way you said what he thinks you did. “You.. what?” Surely you can’t be serious about this. You’re the princess, and he’s just the man who happens to be your guard, a man who is your fathers age at that.

But the way you look at him, he can tell you’re not joking in the slightest. “Princess, I couldn’t possibly accept that,” Minho says sternly, his arms no longer crossed but instead resting on the arms of the chair, hands beginning to grip tightly so he can ground himself and try to make sense of this insane situation. “Why not? I’d be happier if I gave it to someone like you. I trust you,” you say so nonchalantly it makes his head reel. What the fuck is happening right now?

Minho was the ideal man, at least in your opinion. He was handsome, mature, realistic and practical, knew how to reel you in without disregarding the root of what you feel or being disrespectful to you. He never dismissed how you felt, made you feel over emotional or like a fool who overreacts; he’d ask you to see reason, sure, urge you to think more before acting, but he never, never made you feel like your feelings were invalid. And he genuinely cared about you, and you liked him, were attracted to him, so if the opportunity presented itself then.. Why not take the chance?

Fuck. Minho was absolutely fucked. You were just freshly 20 when Minho first met you and became your guard, and hard as he tried to never see you beyond the platonic, he’s always viewed you as an attractive young woman. He liked your fiery spirit, liked how you had the bravery and gall to challenge authority, a skill that in recent months he felt he was sorely lacking. Your attitude was refreshing, and despite your circumstances, you never acted like a damsel in need of his help.

In a different life, in another world, maybe you two could have met as equals, not painfully stuck to the rules of an unfair, unforgiving reality. You’d be each other's foil, you, the impassioned dreamer with as many thoughts and ideas as there were stars in the sky, and he the realist, who didn’t dim your light but tempered it into a steady, sustainable flame. You’d take him out on adventures, out of the strict box of his comfort zone, and he’d ground you more firmly to reality, never discouraging your dreams but making sure you took the necessary steps in the right way, responsibly, matching one another perfectly, complementary and meant for each other.

But that’s not your reality, and you both know it. There would never be any coming back from this if you go through with it, and there’s no ideal, happy future for you two to share. “I’m not so disillusioned to think this would be anything other than sex for you,” you continue, and he swallows, mind still racing impossibly, “but it’d be much more meaningful for me with you than some bastard I don’t like in the slightest.”

You’re wrong. So wrong, and you don’t even know it. It would never be “just sex” with you. You mean much, much more to him than you even realize. “You won’t regret asking a man like me? There’d be no taking it back once it’s done,” Minho can’t help but ask, rationality and reason desperately trying to gain control.

Despite what your father may believe, you’re a grown woman capable of making your own decisions. And this is a decision you make with full knowledge of what it means for you, more than willing to accept whatever consequences may arise for committing such a sin. In an ideal world, you’d be allowed to love who you wish, live where you wish, do what you wish.

But this isn’t an ideal world, and if there is only one thing you can ever be granted in this life that feels as if it isn’t even your own, it would be this- to have one night, just one night, where you can be the person you want to be, with Minho by your side. “You’re free to reject me if you’re not attracted to me, but.. My only regret would have been not trying. So I ask, are you not attracted to me?”

He looks you over carefully, grip on the armrests tightening. Admitting that he’s attracted to you may as well be a death sentence. But he can’t lie to you, completely at your mercy. Fuck the king, it’s you he’s really loyal to. All he’s ever done, all he ever will do, it’s always for you. He’s always tried to act in your best interest, to do the right thing, to keep you safe and protected. But does keeping you safe even matter if you’re miserable?

“I am,” Minho swallows, answering honestly despite his better judgment, “You have no idea how attracted to you I am.” “So why hesitate?” you ask, fingers trail down your lap, over your knees, to where the very bottom of your dress lies. He watches you, eyes darting from your hands back to your face. You’re watching him too, carefully, considering his every reaction before you make your next move, impressively calculated.

You take the hem of your dress in your hands, pulling it up leisurely, getting it halfway up your thighs, and Minho is in front of you in an instant, his hands grabbing your wrists and stopping you from lifting it any further. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Princess,” he breathes, voice low and strained; he can’t lose control of his desires, but fuck, you’re making it so hard. You look up at him, meeting his gaze with the same fiery determination you always have, but there’s more there than just that this time. Desire, want, need- all for him.

Fuck it. He’s going to get burned, but maybe it’s worth it. You’ll be his funeral pyre, engulfing him in your flame until all that remains are the ashes of the man he was supposed to be. And what a beautiful way to end his life it will be, lost between your thighs, feeling your nails dig and claw at his skin. He lets go of your wrists, one of his hands coming to cup your face, thumb tracing over your bottom lip.

“Has anyone ever kissed you, Princess?” he asks and you give a slight shake of the head, breathing a soft “No..” He hums, and there’s a twisted sort of pleasure he derives from knowing he’ll be your first in every conceivable way. You’re not “innocent,” he knows you’re not, but there’s something about being your first kiss, your first cock, your first everything that makes him crazy.

“And you want me to be the first one to kiss you?” he follows up with another question, corners of his mouth threatening to twist into a smile when you nod, a soft, honest “yes” leaving your lips effortlessly. He leans down towards you, keeping your head tilted up so he can easily meet your lips. He does so softly, treating you with care. His lips are softer than you expected, and the feeling of them against your own fills you with butterflies.

He carefully tilts you back, and you let your body fall back onto the mattress, head hitting the surprisingly soft pillows. Minho crawls over you, spreading your legs apart just enough to get between them, your dress now hiked all the way up your thighs. He’s hovering over you, looking down at you with so much love and lust and that it leaves you speechless. “I’ll need you to listen to me tonight. Can you do that for me?” he asks, pressing light kisses to your jaw, under your ear, your neck.

You can, because it’s Minho. He’d never hurt you, never try to control you, never make you feel lesser than. So you can listen to him, because you trust him with your care; he’ll take good care of you, you know he will. He smiles when you nod, and you see him smile so rarely that it makes your heart skip a beat; his role always requires him to be so stern and straight faced, that seeing him smile down at you like this is enough to melt you into a puddle.

“You’re a good girl when you want to be, hmm?” he hums against your neck, resuming his trail of kisses against your skin, and you can’t explain why, but the words and tone he says them in makes your stomach flip. If you were in a different world, and didn’t have to return home to the castle tomorrow, he’d take his time marking your neck, filling it with pretty shades of blue, purple, and red, sinking his teeth into your soft, supple skin.

He just knows you’d look so pretty like that, and the way you react when his breath tickles your skin and his lips linger, tells him you’d like it too. His fingers trail down your body, finding the hem of your dress and pulling it up over your chest. You lift your back off the bed when he separates from your neck, pulling your dress off the rest of the way and discarding it to the floor. He kisses you as he fiddles with the straps of your bra, effortlessly unhooking it in the back and pulling it down your arms and off your body.

He may have never married, but he’s no stranger to being with and pleasuring women. And he’ll make sure he makes this a night you’ll always remember for all the right reasons. Capturing your lips in another kiss, his hands take in your now bare breasts, gently kneading and squeezing. You try to squeeze your legs together, but his place between your thighs stops the act from happening, and he chuckles against your lips when he realizes what you’re doing.

“Be patient, Princess, I’ll take good care of you,” he whispers before kissing you again, and you let out a small whine, not knowing exactly what you want but knowing you want something. You gasp when he takes your nipples between your fingers and pinches them, not too hard of course, but enough to give him the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your body shudders, you feel dizzy with pleasure and excitement, and the feeling of his tongue circling yours is impossibly intoxicating.

One of his hands travels down, over your stomach, coming between your bodies to feel your heat over your panties. He’s barely even begun and you’re already soaking the fabric, your eager anticipation for more of his touch palpable beyond all else. He nips at your bottom lip, gently tugging it between his teeth before soothing the sting with kitten licks, his hand slipping inside your panties to feel how slick you’ve gotten directly.

Your body jolts when his fingers run between your folds, and he barely has to move them at all to get his fingers completely coated in your juices. He pulls back to look at you, taking in the sight of your flushed face and swollen lips, pretty and perfect. You’re panting, breathless, overwhelmed in the best way possible. You keen when his fingers rub over your clit in circles, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you lift your head from the pillows to watch.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks, suppressing a grin when you whine and quickly nod your head. “Want more, want you,” you mutter, the most timid you’ve ever been in regards to a man. He coos, giving you a sweet kiss as he continues his stimulation to your sensitive spot. “Remember what I said? Patience, Princess, you’ll get what you want. We can’t rush and have you getting hurt, can we?”

You pout as you concede, and God, he finds that so cute; he’s never seen you actually act shy and pouty before, and it makes him want to give you the entire world. He’ll give you everything you want, anything you ask for, but he’ll have to remember to tease you first so he can see that cute expression on your face before he gives in to your whims. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and ready for my cock, so just be a good girl and follow my lead until then. You can do that for me easily, can’t you?”

Another shy nod, another adorable flushed look that makes his cock throb in his trousers. It was a little intimidating for you, knowing how experienced Minho must be due to his age, and feeling like you must fall short in comparison to other women, women who knew what they were doing, but really, that was just your own insecurity talking. He didn’t mind at all that you were inexperienced; in fact, it excited him for reasons he didn’t entirely understand.

Maybe it was the knowledge that he was the first to touch your skin, or maybe that someone as determined and fiery as you are is allowing yourself to concede control, to let him be in charge of your pleasure, trusting him to bring you to utmost bliss. What bigger display of trust could you ever show him? Your glassy, pleading eyes, begging him for more but still waiting for it just as he asked- you’re too good for him. He’s going to ruin you.

He takes his fingers away, and you have to physically stop yourself from whining at the lack of contact, lest he remind you again about “being patient.” “Open your mouth for me,” Minho requests, and though you are a bit confused, you do as he asks immediately, obeying without question. Fuck, that’s hot; the image of you, mouth open, tongue slightly sticking out and waiting to receive whatever he gives you is something he never wants to forget.

Minho slides two of his fingers into your mouth, instructing you to lick, to get his fingers nice and wet. Truthfully, you were more than lubricated enough to take his fingers without this step, but he couldn’t resist the urge to see you this way. He pushes his fingers in your mouth down to the knuckle, and you persist with coating them in your saliva even as you gag and tears prick the corners of your eyes.

He showers you with praise, slipping his fingers out of your mouth when he feels satisfied with the work you’ve done on them, kissing your cheeks, feeling the heat of your face on his lips. Slipping his hand back inside your panties, he presses the tips of his wet fingers to your hole, and you instinctively suck in a breath, body unconsciously tensing from the anticipation. “You have to relax, Princess, it won’t feel good if you’re tense,” he explains sweetly, shaking his head when you mutter a soft apology.

“Don’t be sorry, not for that. Just focus on me, hmm? On this,” he whispers, his lips lingering on yours in a deep, impassioned kiss. His fingers stay completely still until he feels your body start to release its tension, heeding his advice to focus more on his kisses than the motion of his fingers. He keeps kissing you even as the first of his fingers finally starts to push inside you, and you moan into his mouth, hot pleasure licking your skin.

He moves his finger in and out slowly, making sure you’re well adjusted before he pushes in another one, hooking his fingers to find that delicious sweet spot he knows will have you crying his name in no time. You gasp loudly when he finds it, your hands twisting the sheets beneath you between your fingers, your entire body trembling. It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, and when he picks up his pace, hitting your spot over and over as he brings his thumb to your clit, you know you won’t last long at all.

“M-Minho, I’m- I’m gonna-” you try to warn him, but the words die in your throat, the pleasure too overwhelming to continue to try and form a sentence. He simply hums, continuing his motions until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, sharp, shuddery gasps and moans tumbling from your lips as your orgasm takes you. “That’s it, just let go, just like that, I’ve got you,” he praises, pressing kisses to your hot skin, helping you ride out your high.

Before you can even fully recollect your breath and get your racing heart back under control, he’s pushing a third finger inside, the trembling in your body intensifying from the addition. “You need more to get ready for me,” he tells you, and in your fucked out state all you can do is nod, taking his word as gospel truth, “need to stretch you good to make sure my cock fits.” All you can do is lay there and take the onslaught of pleasure, unable to think of about anything other than how full and good his fingers make you feel.

You don’t even register that he’s moved your down your body and tugged your panties to the side until his tongue is meeting your clit, swirling around it in expertly practiced circles, making you desperately cry out his name. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging harshly as your hips buck up to keep feeling the delicious sensation his tongue provides you. He flattens his tongue and lets you grind against it as you want, the motions of his fingers not stuttering or ceasing despite the movement of your hips.

You feel the familiar heat pooling your stomach, another orgasm approaching quickly, the sounds you release turning into desperate whines and whimpers as you chase the feeling. It only takes a few more rolls of your hips and thrusts of his fingers to have you releasing all over his face, your juices gushing around his fingers. He sits up and pulls his fingers out when your body falls limp, chest heaving and ears ringing as you try to recover from the mind-blowing experience you just had.

Your eyes are closed, and you can feel his weight shift, can hear the soft clink of his belt unbuckling, followed by the rustling of clothes. You open your eyes to see Minho’s cock is now out, his hand lazily pumping it and spreading the pre-cum that accumulated and dripped over his time focusing on you. You reach a hand out to touch it, to replace his hand with your own, but he grabs your hand before you can, instead making you intertwine your fingers.

“Tonight’s all about you, Princess. Don’t worry about taking care of me,” he says, kissing the back of your hand and then holding it down right above your head; you’re not quite pinned, easily able to snake your hand out of his hold if you wanted to, but you have to admit, you like the feeling of his hand keeping yours held down. He rubs his cock between your folds before he lines himself up with your entrance, though you didn’t miss the subtle smirk on his face when you whined from the feeling of his tip rubbing against your clit.

“Squeeze my hand if you need to,” Minho tells you before taking your free hand and bringing it up to his shoulder, “and hold onto me.” Your heart squeezes in your chest; the hidden romantic in you yearns to tell him you love him, to thank him for taking such good care of you, to express how you never want this night to end, but you know that would be a mistake. Neither of you can afford to let your emotions spill out, so you swallow them down the best you can, deciding to just live in this moment, to experience it for all that it is and all that it means for you.

The initial push is slow, and thanks to his diligent preparation, there is little physical pain or discomfort you experience from the stretch of his cock. A slight sting, sure, but nothing you can’t easily handle, and it’s barely even recognizable when compared to the pleasant fullness you feel. So when you squeeze his hand, and your eyes well with tears, it’s not because you are pained; it’s because you finally have something you want, a happiness you thought would forever elude you.

He takes his free hand and wipes away the tears from your eyes, a soft look of concern on his face. “Hurts?” he asks, but you shake your head quickly. “Feels good, I just.. I..” you struggle with the words, knowing you can’t express how you actually feel even if you felt you could. “I know. You don’t have to say it, I know,” Minho speaks to you softly, and the kiss he gives you very nearly makes you sob.

There’s still a few inches left before he’s fully inside you, and he pushes the remainder in slowly as he continues to kiss you, his free hand now rubbing soothing circles on your hip with his thumb. Minho does well at maintaining composure, staying firmly in control of himself and his body despite the way your walls squeeze and suck him in, despite the way you whimper when you feel him throb, or cry out against his lips when his tip kisses your deepest spots.

“That’s a good girl, taking all I give you, doing so well,” he praises you some more, and you love when he tells you how good you’re doing if the way you clench around him is any indicator. “Fuck, Princess-” he groans when he finally starts to move, pulling out and pressing back in much more slowly than he normally would, but the wet friction you provide him is delicious. “Minho, I-” you start, interrupted by a sharp gasp when he finds your sweet spot with his cock.

He looks at you as he stills his hips, patiently waiting for you to continue in case what you have to say is important, or a request for him to stop. You swallow, face heating up but determined to get out what you want to say. “J-Just this once, I don’t want to be the princess. Call me by name, please-” Oh, that’s what you want? He can do that, easily; he’s already groaned your name countless times in the privacy of his room, stroking his cock to the thought of you.

The sound of your name falling from his lips as he resumes the thrust of his hips has you clenching hard, stars erupting in your vision as he picks up his pace, beginning to quickly and mercilessly hit your spot, over and over again. He takes one of your legs and props it up over his shoulder, allowing more of his cock to fill you up, the creaking of the bed and the sound of skin slapping beginning to overpower the noise from downstairs.

Taking his other hand away from yours, you’ll have to forgive him, he licks his fingers and then brings them to your clit, wanting nothing more than to see and feel you release on his cock. It only takes a few more thrusts and circles from his fingers to have you crying out his name as you cum, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you as your body shakes and legs tremble. But Minho hasn’t cum yet, so he’s not quite done with you, not that you mind in the slightest; you’ll let him chase his pleasure as long as he wishes, even if it leaves you a drooling, fucked out mess in the end.

He pulls out of you, just long enough to sit against the headboard, and then he’s pulling you on top of him, guiding you to sink back down on his cock and sit fully in his lap. The new position has you rolling your eyes to the back of your head, Minho guiding the movement of your hips with his hands as he thrusts up into you. He’s quite literally doing all the work, but that’s perfectly fine; this night is supposed to be about you, after all, and he doesn’t want you to lift a pretty little finger. Just let him use you a little until he cums, that’s all he needs.

You’re panting against his neck, head laid on his shoulder and nails digging into the skin of his back beneath his shoulder blades. The sting of your nails in his skin is just how he imagined it to be, and his head is falling back against the headboard, low grunts and groans of your name leaving freely as his cock throbs and twitches, getting closer and closer to his release. He uses one of his hands to grab your face and lift it up to his, crashing his lips to yours in a desperate, impassioned display of love and lust.

A few more snaps of his hips and you feel his cum spurting inside you in long, thick ropes, the sensation sending you forward into yet another orgasm of your own, your desperate sounds muffled only by Minho’s mouth on yours. Your body collapses against his when the moment slows to a stop, both of your chests heaving and breaths heavy as you lie against him, his arms wrapped around you snuggly and keeping you upright against his chest.

You can hear the quick, erratic beating of his heart as he catches his breath, looking up at him to see his eyes closed and sweat trailing down his brow towards his cheek. He looks beautiful like this, you think; you hope he thought the same of you. Even as his cock starts to soften, neither of you move, and though your legs protest and beg to be stretched out, you refuse to leave your spot on Minho’s lap.

“Are you alright, Princess?” he asks once he’s collected himself, pushing your hair from your face and wiping the sweat from your brow. “Mhm, just want to stay like this,” you reply, and Minho smiles softly, rubbing over your shoulders and down your back in a sweet gesture of comfort. You’re silent like this for some time, just simply enjoying the feeling of him, the sound of the crackling fire, the warmth he and this room provides you.

“Does my happiness really have to end here?” you can’t help but quietly ask, and Minho is quiet for a moment, carefully considering before he speaks. In a different world, in a different time, in a different place, maybe the two of you are meant to be. There’s comfort in imagining yourself there, truly happy with Minho, letting him care for you while not snuffing out the flame that is your pride, ambition, and spirit.

It’s not meant to be, you both know that to be true. To be with each other required great risk, sacrifice, hardship. But again he has to wonder, is being safe worth the cost of happiness? Would you even truly be “alive” if your every moment was spent miserably? He doesn’t want to see the very core of what makes you you be snuffed out by selfish, idiotic men and their expectations of what you should be.

You’re much younger than him, and it would be impossible for him to be there for you for the rest of your life, but he can be for the rest of his, at least. “Maybe not,” he answers, unsure of what the future holds for the two of you, but not entirely ready to give up so easily. He could accept his fate, accept that love is something out of his reach, but it’s your happiness on the line that makes him want to fight for it.

There’s a lot he could lose by helping you escape this life you feel trapped in, but he’d rather see you happy than wasting your days away in the castle, subservient to a man you loathe. Your love isn’t meant to be, but that’s okay; he’ll help you all the same. He’s loyal to you, and only you, he’s decided- so if you make your future husband, your father, the entire kingdom your enemy, then they’ll be his enemy too. And it’ll all be worth it just to see you smile for a little bit longer.

#skz x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #skz smut #lee know smut #lee minho smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #not me posting a fic again literally 4 days after my last one i am serious when i say i was possessed to write this #also not posting between the hours of 4-7am for once that is a win for me !!#mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

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bugs1nmybrain · 5 months

Note

Have you heard the song “give your heart a break” by Demi Lovato imagine that as a cute love story for Shigaraki with the female reader?

(I was thinking about just using the song as a story title and then use your imagination and get creative with whatever you choose and just have fun with it?😅)

Give Your Heart a Break - a soft Tomura Shigaraki x fem!reader series

CHAPTER 1 (Minors Don't Interact)

You can read Chapter 2 here.

Notes: You asked for a love story, and you're getting a love story XD. I plan for this to be a continuing series. No overarching goal with this series, just a sweet story about how Shigaraki fell hard for the reader. It will be messy! Shigaraki is not a healthy guy and would be a vile boyfriend, but I will make this as fluffy as possible. Underneath all that homicidal rage is just a boy who was never loved. This is admittedly a very, "I can fix him," kind of story lmao.

Summary: First encounter between Shigaraki and the reader. The whole chapter is literally Shiggy freaking out in GameStop because you walked in and you're so pretty and he wants to talk to you but doesn't know how.

Warnings will come and go as each chapter comes out.

Warnings: The canon of BNHA is altered; quirks still exist but Shigaraki is more of a domestic gang leader than a domestic terrorist lmao. NSFW (no sex in this chapter), Shigaraki is a creep, fluff, blue-haired Shigaraki (season 4ish), CHEESY, Shigaraki hears voices and has very loud intrusive thoughts (they are highlighted in blue and red), POV swings, CLIFFHANGER

Notes about Reader's Appearance and Personality: HEAVILY based off of me. She's shy and polite up front but silly and vulgar with people close to her. She is short and a little thicc. Alternative clothing style and she's messy looking. She is a gamer! She is insinuated to be Shigaraki's age (20), maybe even older. She likes anime! She has crooked teeth.

Tomura wasn't unlike other 20-year-old men in that he found himself checking out girls from time to time. He usually didn't do more than look in his peripheral vision, actually, love and romance and even sex were all things Tomura wasn't acquainted with. There's no way someone so twisted could ever be loved.

Tomura loved giving off the impression that he needed nobody. Even in the League, he isolated a lot while the other members would be doing something together. He'd retreat to his own room and play games or plan out operations, but sometimes he'd retreat so that he could cuddle up with his favorite body pillow and just lay there.

He'd probably kill anyone who ever found out about it, but he was starving for love. To be touched, held, kissed. For someone to play with his hair and be comfortable around him. Everyone's so afraid of him, and that's a good thing! However, sometimes he just wished he had someone, just ONE person who wanted his company. Someone to listen to him rant for hours about how much he hates heroes, someone to play games with, someone to make love to, or someone to just hold for comfort when he was stressed.

He'd commit mass genocide if anyone knew he'd had imaginary girlfriends.

Now, a big scary bad guy like Tomura could get a girlfriend, right?? Just use those scare tactics, hold her by the throat with one finger up, and tell her she has no option but to love him. Steal her, hide her, keep her to himself? Sure, the fantasy was a little hot to him, and he could so easily do it. Tomura didn't want that though. As possessive as he is, he wanted to be loved. Not feared. He's feared plenty.

He'd kill if anyone knew how much pain he's in every time he sees a cute couple walk into GameStop. It pisses him off so bad. Why can't he have that?

"Well, doi, Shigaraki. You're a murderer, a psychopath, and a villain. Just one touch and it's over. What girl is going to want your hands all over her?"

"Whatever."

Shigaraki was currently at GameStop looking for a video game he'd been wanting to play. He picked the game and came up with a few fingers, turning it the other way around to read the details. As he was reading, he heard a ding from the door, meaning someone was entering the store. Shigaraki always looked when it went off because he could never be too sure that some hero bounty hadn't tracked him down. He looked over to the door, expecting it to be nothing special.

Whatever Tomura was feeling right now started in his eyes. Goodness, you were so...colorful. Not even! It was funny, considering you were wearing mostly black. However, your pretty hair that was put up in pigtails and your sharp black eyeliner made you stand out like a sore thumb.

You were little, too. Tomura looked in comparison as you stood at the door, seeing that you were only around the 5' mark on the height scale.

The feeling started going to his brain now. You stepped closer and closer to the store, your pumped boots making you seem all big (even tho ur're small), bad, and mysterious. He worried you were going to walk over to his area, but you made a beeline toward the anime section.

"Hehe weeb."

Tomura didn't want to stand out, so he just stayed put, looking at games he was never going to play. He didn't even read the labels, he merely pretended to so he could observe you. He saw the other losers in the store eyeball you, too. That made him wanna kill them for some reason. He wanted to get a proper look at you, but he didn't want you to know that he was blatantly creeping on you. Even if he just looked at you, you'd probably leave the store like that. After all, he was wearing a black hoodie and the parts of his face that were visible were his rather creepy features. He'd scare you off.

He's planned some pretty crazy missions before, surely he could gather intel on you in your short time in GameStop, right?

He wanted a better look at you, so he switched from the PS area to the T-shirts. He even pretended to do a little "aha" at the shirts to make it seem like he wasn't purposely there so he could see you better. When he could get a solid look, though, he instantly needed to know everything about you.

Goodness, he's a simp, huh? You were just so goshdarn cute. Sure, he saw gothic and alt girls around the mall all the time. You looked a bit silly, though. Your makeup wasn't bad, but it was messy. Your hair could probably use some brushing too. You held a phone that had a case of some anime guy, though he didn't know which one.

"Hehe weeb."

Fuck, you were heading his way. He didn't know if he should leave before you were near him or just stay. You kept your distance anyway, as you were standing very far off to the side. Surely, you weren't able to get a good look at the shirts. He stepped back, hoping that you'd be able to tell he was giving you room. You smiled and said, "thank you," going to step forward.

Now the feeling was going to his nuts.

Now that you were in front of him, he got a nice view of the back of you. Not only could he see up close how small you really were, but he got a great view of your more intimate areas. He could tell from your skirt that you had wide hips and thick thighs, which made him pop a tiny smirk while you weren't looking.

"Grab her."

Oh, come on, not now.

Stupid fucking voices. Though, they had a point. She's small and seems polite enough to manipulate. She's thick but probably isn't that heavy in the grand scheme of things. Alone. And she ain't getting nowhere in those shoes.

While his voice distracted him, you had managed to end up at the registrar with a t-shirt in your hand. Tomura didn't really think as he bolted over behind you, he wasn't ready for you to leave. He already had his game that he had to buy so it wasn't like he was in line for no reason.

The feeling started going into his blood. He felt hot, and it was because of the stupid cashier making jokes with you and being friendly. Your laugh. He could tell it was fake, but you were so warm?

"Pet her hair."

Wow, ok, Tomura thought. Sometimes they'd say very bizarre things. Voices were confusing because he could never tell if they were deep-seated desires of his or if his brain just purposely wanted to fuck him over.

She started to pull out her wallet to pay but ended up dropping something. It landed right at Tomura's feet, so he bent down to grab it. A debit card!

"I'm sorry," you laugh nervously.

Tomura made sure to read your name intently before handing it back to you.

"No worries, hah. Guess I got to be somebody's hero today," he joked. Fuck. That was a bad joke wasn't it?

"That'd be the first time a hero has done anything helpful for me, then, haha."

...!

"That was a jab at heroes, wasn't it?" He thought. Now the feeling was in his chest. Maybe he's running with too little information but that sounded like an "I hate heroes," joke. Oh, now he's really got to know you.

"Yeah, maybe if they got off all those stacks they make they'd actually save a life, huh?"

"Hehe! You get it!"

You were smiling at him. And laughing. But not the fake laugh you gave the cashier. Your cheeks also flushed up as you giggled at his insult to hero society and he even got to see your teeth. Crooked, like his. He felt paralyzed, being able to look at you without sneaking it this time.

"I like your hair," you said to him.

Shit. He didn't even notice his hoodie fell off when he grabbed your card. Hopefully, the shopkeeper didn't know what "Shigaraki" was supposed to look like.

"I don't see many guys with blue hair like yours."

His eyes lit up when you said that. He may have even felt a small blush creep on his cheeks. Tomura knew he had an ugly face, one that made people whisper and steadily move away from him. But you complimented his hair instead of getting creeped out by him. "Really?"

"Yea. I like it a lot. Most people go for dark blue, but your color is prettier."

Pretty?!

He could swear that he can see you flustered. Is he making you blush? He didn't even do anything but have blue hair.

"Sorry, that was weird," you stammer, realizing that the word "pretty" could've offended him.

"Oh, no. You're fine! I like your hair too, the way you styled it is cute," he beams, hoping to earn some flirting points. You flashed him an adorable smile back, so he must've struck a chord.

"Ma'am, I don't mean to interrupt, but there's a line," the cashier says, getting your attention.

"Oh, right."

The way your voice shot down maybe two octaves was so funny to Tomura. You were so bubbly and flustered with him and yet so dry and indifferent with this guy. You were so interesting already. It's a good thing he made sure to remember the name on that card. Your name fits you so well, too.

You paid for your shirt and started leaving the store. Fuck, no! He didn't want you to go just yet.

"Stop her."

"Grab her."

"Tell her she's hot."

"jesus christ shut the fuck up!" Tomura mutters to himself as quiet as he could. He was trying so hard to think of how to get your attention again, but before he could, you had already been no where to be found.

"Stupid short bitch, I'll find you."

He may have thought of that one voluntarily.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki #shiggy x reader

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mayhem24-7forever · 2 years

Text

Cowgirl Lessons

Rhett Abbott (Outer Range) x F!Reader Oneshot

Summary: When she decides to spend her spring break from grad school in Wabang Wyoming, Y/N finds herself getting a little extracurricular education from a dashing cowboy named Rhett Abbott... with important courses like two stepping, cowboy hat law, bull riding, and lassoing/rope work.

Author’s Notes: Firstly, I don’t want minors reading any of my fics, even if they are SFW so this one is especially off limits! I deserve a safe place to express myself so please respect my boundaries. this is super long (like over 15k lmao) but it’s my birthday so #treatyoself. this came out of a conversation with @hyperfixatingmenever and @a-reader-and-a-writer on the top gun discord… so this is dedicated to the server. Big thanks to everyone who helped me out with this including @marvelandotherfandomimagines and @topguncortez. fic divider by the lovely @a-reader-and-a-writer 💕

Content Warnings: bull riding (poor bulls tbh at least this is fake), mentions of injuries from bull riding, people referring to rhett as the town slut/manwhore (because he is and I love him for it), reader is referred to as a “city girl” so i’m very sorry to anyone from the country, small children being embarrassing menaces, overprotective brothers, profanity, drunk guy cat-calling once, drinking, dancing (two-stepping), flirting (like SO much flirting), making out, distracted driving (DO NOT FUCK OR FINGER WHILE DRIVING IN REAL LIFE ITS UNSAFE), fingering, teasing, one (1 singular) spank, dry humping/riding, unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it before you tap it in real life guys even if clean/on the pill), rope bondage, consensual somnophilia (waking up to being eaten out after giving permission the previous night), oral sex (female receiving), shower sex, having trouble walking after getting railed

The tiny town of Wabang, Wyoming was not where Y/N had thought she’d ever willingly choose to take a vacation, especially if she had other more exciting options. Nevertheless, it was where she found herself on her spring break from grad school, having decided to accept her brother’s invitation to spend two weeks there. At first, she had been excited, she hadn’t seen her brother much since he got married to a farm girl and moved to Wyoming to start a family, only getting to see him once or twice a year when he came over for the holidays. She was also excited to finally see his ranch, never having been able to visit before. Of course, she was a little disappointed as she got texts and saw social media posts from the rest of her cohort, practically everyone she knew seemed to have escaped to Miami, L.A., Cabo, or somewhere else warm, tropical and gorgeous. It wasn’t that Wyoming wasn’t beautiful–it most certainly was. From the peaks of the picturesque mountains to the wide open plains straight out of a postcard, it was one of the most beautiful places she’d ever been. But for as amazing as Wyoming was, she couldn’t help but think that she may have made a mistake.

At that very moment, her roommates were likely on a beach, surrounded by shirtless ripped frat bros and gorgeous women in skimpy bikinis, pounding back shots of tequila while grinding on some jacked hotties to a Ke$ha song. All while she was sitting in the uncomfortable metal stands of the Amelia County rodeo ring playing babysitter for her brother’s kids as they watched a bunch of grown men in cowboy hats ride large cows and fall on their asses in the dirt a bunch. While her friends were getting drunk, having sex, and partying, she was swatting flies away from her eight year old niece’s corndog and trying to keep her five year old nephew from dripping his ice cream all over himself and everyone else within a ten foot radius.

“Auntie Y/N?” her niece, Sarah, asked and she turned to look at her.

“Yes, lovebug?” she replied.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” Sarah said.

“Okay, lovebug.” she told her before turning to her nephew. “Come on, Jesse.”

She had never herded cattle before, but if she had to guess, it was probably much like trying to keep two small children focused on the simple task of walking to a bathroom. As they walked down the stairs of the stand, Jesse decided he wanted to run to the top so he could ‘see the bulls in the pens from up high’. After getting him down to the bottom, she realized that Sarah was jumping up and down to try and see over the fence, not believing Y/N when she said that the ring was empty because they were between rides and pouting when her aunt pulled her away.

As they made their way through the crowd towards the porta potties, she tried to no avail to get either of them to hold her hand, meaning she was much more focused on keeping her eyes on them than to the crowd around her. The crowd was thinning a little and the kids were still surging ahead without her, although luckily she could see them heading for the porta potty doors.

“Sarah! Jesse! Come back here!” she called out, too busy watching them to watch her step as she smacked right into a broad shouldered frame.

She was falling backwards for a moment before a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist and caught her before she hit the dirt. She was pulled up to her feet and steadied by the hands as she looked up at the person who had caught her. He was tall and quite handsome with the most striking blue eyes she had ever seen, his ear-length brown hair pushed back below his cowboy hat.

“Are you alright, Miss?” he asked, his voice low with just the hint of a country accent.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going!” she exclaimed, suddenly realizing how close she was to him with her hands on his chest as he still held her waist and she stepped back, embarrassed. “Thank you for catching me.”

“It’s quite alright, Miss. I hope I didn’t get any dirt on your pretty dress.” he replied, dusting off his gloves as she looked past him, relieved to see both kids opening the porta potty doors and stepping inside and he turned to follow her gaze. “Sarah and Jesse giving you trouble?”

“Yes, I-” she began and paused, confused. “How did you know?”

“Sarah is good friends with my niece, Amy, and they live near our ranch so I drive them all home from school on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” he explained before pulling off his glove and holding out his hand. “I’m Rhett Abbott.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” she replied as she shook it, trying to ignore the shiver of attraction that ran through her body when she felt his strong grip.

He smiled at her name and she knew that the grin of that handsome devil could be the death of her. The crowd had thinned out but she still walked closer to the bathrooms so she wouldn’t miss when the kids came out, Rhett trailing behind her. She finally noticed that he was wearing chaps over his jeans and one of the protective vests the riders had to wear over his blue plaid button up, the sleeves rolled up to showcase his well-defined arms.

“Are you a bull rider? I haven’t been able to pay much attention to the rodeo while trying to watch those two.” she asked.

“Yeah, I imagine those two are keeping you busy.” he said with a smirk. “And yes, I’m riding tonight.”

“I have to admit, I’m not entirely sure how bull riding works. I tried asking the kids but Jesse just said ‘you have to ride the bull the best’ and I have no idea what that means.” she said with a laugh and he chuckled.

“Well, there’s all kinds of rules about only using one hand and not touching the bull and tryin’ to earn the most points and the like but the most important thing is to try and last the full eight seconds without falling off.” he explained and she nodded.

“And do you often last the full eight seconds?” she asked, not entirely talking about bull riding any more.

“Oh, I always last far longer than eight seconds…” he replied with a smirk and she knew they definitely weren’t talking about bull riding anymore. “I was wondering if-”

“AUNTIE Y/N!” Jesse yelled as he ran out of the bathrooms and towards her, interrupting Rhett, who looked a little disappointed.

“WASH YOUR HANDS!” she ordered, pointing at the portable sink and shaking her head as he turned around to do as she asked, running back to her when he was done.

“Auntie Y/N, can I have another ice cream?” he asked, tugging on her dress before turning to the man talking to her. “Oh, hiya Mr. Rhett.”

“Jesse, I’ve told you about a hundred times that you can just call me Rhett.” he said, clearly amused by the young boy’s formality.

“Ma told me I have to say Mister and Miss for any adults who ain’t family.” Jesse said firmly before turning back to his aunt and tugging on her dress again, looking up at her with wide, puppy dog eyes. “Can I have another ice cream pleeeease?”

“One is enough for tonight little munchkin, but it was a good try.” she told him and he giggled.

“Listen, I wanted to ask you-” Rhett started but was interrupted once more.

“ABBOTT! YOU GOT FIVE MINUTES BEFORE YOUR RIDE! GET ON IT!” a man called out from near the fence at the back of the bull pens.

“ONE MINUTE!” Rhett called back, obviously annoyed at another interruption, before turning back to her. “I wanted to ask if you’d like to get a drink with me tonight? There’s a bar called the Handsome Gambler over on main street that I usually go to after a ride.”

He was smiling confidently but she could see a hint of nervousness in his eyes that made her feel special. Here was a man who regularly rode thousand pound cows angrily trying to buck him off but he was anxious that she might say no to a drink with him. She smiled.

“I have to get the kids home but if I’m not too tired after that, I think a drink might be nice.” she said coyly and he grinned. “But fair warning, I’m not a beer and whiskey type girl, more of a fruity cocktail kinda girl.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from a pretty city girl.” he replied and she smiled.

“RHETT!” the man called again and Rhett sighed.

“Go on cowboy, you’ve got a bull to ride.” she said, patting his chest before giving him a playful push towards the arena with a wink. “We can talk more at the bar.”

“Looking forward to it.” he said with a smirk before tipping his hat and walking towards the ring.

“Good luck!” she called after him.

“Good luck Mr. Rhett!” Jesse added, waving.

She watched him disappear into the back area of the ring, off limits to the audience and once he was gone, she turned to see Sarah washing her hands.

“Come on, lovebug! We’ve got some bull riding to watch!” Y/N called to her niece who smiled as she ran over to her. “Now, this time, you’re both gonna hold my hands until we get to the stands or you’re gonna be in big trouble.”

Miraculously, they made it back to their seats without either of the kids running off. She was smoothing out her dress skirt when Jesse suddenly started crawling onto her lap.

“What are you doing, you little munchkin?” she asked, amused.

“The seats are so uncomfortable, Auntie Y/N!” he explained with a pout. “Ma and pa always let me sit on their laps.”

“Alright, come here.” she told him and he smiled widely as she took him into her arms and sat him on her lap.

“Time for our last ride of the night, folks!” the announcer said through the crackly old speakers. “And it should be a good one! We have our hometown hero Rhett Abbott, winner of the Wyoming Rodeo competition last year, placed fifth in the semi-nationals, and tonight he’ll be riding the ever ornery bull ‘Napalm’. Napalm has quite the reputation for ending winning streaks and knocking riders out of the competition, and often, into the hospital. If Rhett can last eight seconds on Napalm, he’ll be practically guaranteed to move forwards to the state competition once again this year.”

At the mention of a hospital, Y/N sat up nervously, eyes glued to the back gate where she could see Rhett climbing in a pen, the bull he was mounting bucked wildly even in such a small space. Aside from plenty of nasty looking bruises, the worst injury they had seen that night was a man who broke his leg when he was thrown from the bull but he had been smiling and had his thumbs up as the on-site paramedics had carried him out of the ring.

This bull seemed more determined than any before to throw his rider, looking so angry that he probably wouldn’t want to stop until Rhett was below his hooves. From afar she could see the handlers struggling to keep Rhett upright as Napalm threw itself around the small pen wildly. She put her hand over her mouth and began chewing on her fingernails, a habit she only did before large exams and important presentations at school. Suddenly, she felt a little hand on her arm, pulling her hand down and she turned to see Sarah beside her, looking up at her with a caring expression.

“Don’t bite your fingernails Auntie Y/N, ma says it’s real bad.” she cautioned and Y/N managed a smile as she put her hand in Sarah’s and gave it a light squeeze.

“Thank you, lovebug.” Y/N said before leaning over to press a kiss to her niece’s forehead. “Just a little worried about Rhett, I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“Don’t worry, Mr Rhett is real good at riding bulls, pa always bets on him.” Sarah replied with a big smile at trying to be helpful.

Before Y/N could respond, a loud and low air horn sounded and the gate was thrown open. The crowd rose to their feet, blocking her view as they cheered wildly. Quickly, she shot up, holding Jesse close to her as she looked over the cowboy hats of the men in front of her, Sarah climbing to stand on her seat so she could see too. When she had seen the first bull ride of the night, she thought it was the most terrifying thing she’d ever seen, questioning why anyone in their right mind would do it as rider after rider was thrown from the bucking bulls and into the dirt. But this one made all the rest look like child’s play, the bull bucking higher and faster and harder as it spun, desperate to knock Rhett off.

Everything was happening so fast that it was almost a blur, even though it felt like a lifetime as she watched him struggle to stay on. At some point his hat had flown off and into the dirt and the bull had almost trampled on it. A cloud of dust was kicked up by Napalm’s hooves, making it a little harder to see but still the crowd cheered as Rhett stayed on. Suddenly, a buzzer rang out, signaling the end of the eight seconds. She wasn’t sure if he had jumped or been thrown but in a flash Rhett was on the ground, some handlers helping him up and away from the angry animal as others roped the bull and returned it to its pen.

When Rhett stood up fully, looking relatively unharmed as a handler handed him his hat, she breathed out a sigh of relief, one she hadn’t even realized she had been holding. As he put his hat on his head, he spun around to look at the scoreboard which changed to show him in first place, miles above the other riders in points. The crowd went wild, so loud and passionate that Y/N was certain there were Super Bowls and arena concerts with less excited crowds.

Sarah jumped up and down on her seat, her arms raised as she screamed happily, Jesse pulling himself off of his aunt’s shoulder to holler as well. She shifted her nephew so that she could clap and cheer, smiling down at Rhett’s figure in the ring. He was reveling in his victory but she could see that he seemed to be searching the crowd for something–or someone, she realized when his eyes met hers. His smile spread into a grin and she smiled back as she clapped and cheered. A handler walked up to Rhett and drew him–rather reluctantly–away from the crowd, sparing one last glance over his shoulder as he was led through the back gates out of the ring.

“Another fantastic ride for Rhett that has secured his place in the state competition!” the announcer said as the crowd continued to cheer. “Thank y'all for coming out to tonight’s rodeo, have a safe night!”

With that, the crowd began to file out of the stands and out into the gravel and dirt parking lot as she took a moment to catch her breath and calm her heart rate, so relieved that not only was Rhett okay but that he had seemingly won too. Jesse was beginning to nod off as he came down from his sugar high so she shifted him onto her hip as she led Sarah by the hand, who was rambling about how great of a ride that was and how she knew Mr. Rhett could do it. Y/N had a sneaking suspicion that her niece was harboring a bit of a school girl crush on him, which she found rather amusing.

They stood by the parking lot and played I Spy until her brother’s dirty red pick-up truck pulled up in front of them. Jenna, her sister-in-law, hopped out of the passenger seat to hug her babies, who were definitely very glad to see her. Y/N sat in the passenger seat as Jenna sat in the back between her children’s car seats. As her brother Sam pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, he looked in the rearview mirror at his family.

“Did you have a good time with Auntie Y/N?” he asked and the kids nodded before he turned to his sister. “Did they behave themselves?”

“Yes, they did.” she answered. “How was your date night?”

“Absolutely perfect.” Jenna said happily. “Thank you so much for watching them, we haven’t had a real proper date night in a few years.”

“Of course, it was fun.” Y/N replied, smiling at her sister-in-law.

“How was your first rodeo, sis?” Sam asked.

“Definitely… interesting.” she answered and he chuckled.

“Yeah, it took some getting used to when I first moved out here, Jenna used to say that I looked more scared than the actual riders.” he said and the kids laughed. “Who had the best score of the night?”

“Mr. Rhett!” Sarah piped up. “Mr. Ricky in the speakers said he gets to go to the state competition. He rode the whole eight seconds and he got way more points than everybody else!”

“Well I’ll be damned, looks like I just made twenty bucks off Carl at the seed store.” her brother said with a smile.

“Mr. Rhett and Auntie Y/N are going on a date!” Jesse exclaimed suddenly and Sam struggled not to swerve the car on the road before looking to his sister in disbelief as his son continued. “I heard him ask her to go to the place on main street where mommy says kids aren’t allowed.”

“Rhett Abbott?” Sam asked and she looked down in embarrassment at being ratted out by her nephew.

“I was going to ask if you could drop me off at the Handsome Gambler instead of my hotel.” she said quietly, referring to the little motel room her brother had put her up in because he was still working on building the new addition to the house for a spare room.

“Rhett Abbott?” Sam asked again incredulously and Jenna leaned forward to slap Sam’s shoulder and look at her sister-in-law.

“Rhett’s a nice man, you’ll have fun.” Jenna said before lowering her voice and giving a wink. “And he’s real good-looking too, you chose well.”

“No, no, no!” Sam exclaimed, hitting the steering wheel for emphasis. “My little sister is not going out with Rhett Abbott the…” he trailed off as he glanced into the rearview mirror to see the kids listening in and quietly added “...the M-A-N-W-H-O-R-E of Wabang!”

“Daddy, what does that spell?” Sarah asked.

“I’ll tell you later, sweetie.” he replied before looking at his wife. “I can’t believe you’re encouraging this.”

“Oh, stop it Sam!” Jenna said as she rolled her eyes. “She’s an adult who can make her own choices! Besides, she deserves to have a little fun on her spring break without her big brother ruining it.”

“Fine. But if he hurts you Y/N, I swear I’ll beat his…” he trailed off again as he noticed the kids were watching. “...butt.”

The kids started giggling, thinking that their father saying ‘butt’ was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.

“So, will you drop me off at the bar?” she asked her brother and he sighed before nodding reluctantly.

“Auntie Y/N and Mr. Rhett! Sittin’ in a tree!” Jesse began to sing and Jenna tried not to laugh. “K-I-S-S… I don’t know the rest.”

“It’s ‘K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in the baby carriage!’” Sarah exclaimed helpfully.

“If Mr. Rhett marries Auntie Y/N, do we call him just Rhett ‘cuz he’s family or do we still call him Mr. Rhett?” Jesse asked his mother.

“He’d be Uncle Rhett then.” Sarah corrected, a proud smile on her face.

Y/N felt like she was going to die from embarrassment and stared out the window to avoid looking at anyone as her sister-in-law hushed the children. She couldn’t stop thinking about her brother’s words. Was Rhett really the town slut? He flirted with her so easily that it was obvious he wasn’t new to picking up girls and he was certainly handsome enough to leave a long trail of broken hearts behind him. Rhett was probably just a player looking to get his dick wet but wasn’t that what she was hoping to do too? She supposed that she could keep her heart out of it for her pussy’s sake and have a fun little spring break fling.

Soon enough, they pulled up in front of the bar on main street and she hopped out, turning back to lean through the open window to speak to her brother.

“Thank you for the ride, Sammy, I’ll see you tomorrow morning!” she said but before she could turn around to head into the bar, he reached out and placed a hand on her arm.

“Hey.” he said lowly, not wanting the kids to hear him. “I’m serious, call me if you need a ride or help or anything, alright? I don’t care if it’s at three a.m. or something, just call me.”

“I will, Sammy, thank you.” she assured her big brother, placing her hand over his to squeeze reassuringly before turning to walk towards the door.

“Have fun girlie! But not too much fun, it might be a bit too soon for you to become a momma!” Jenna called out and Y/N laughed as she grabbed the door handle.

The Handsome Gambler was just how she would expect a bar in a small midwestern town to be. It was dim and smokey, with neon signs on the walls casting colored light onto the packed tables of men in cowboy hats and women in cowgirl boots. When she entered, a man in a trucker hat wolf-whistled at her and she had the sudden urge to turn around and leave.

“Shut up Hendricks or I’ll make you eat your teeth!” Rhett’s voice warned and she looked to where the voice had come from.

She locked eyes with Rhett, who was sitting at the bar, hat on the counter and he smiled at her, giving her the courage to continue walking. If she had thought he was handsome in his bull rider get-up, she was blown away with how he made the most casual outfit sexy. Blue jeans (with an unfortunately large belt buckle), a gray henley and a blue flannel button-up should not have been making her squirm but the way he had the sleeves rolled up to display his muscular forearms somehow made her want to climb him right there in the bar.

This feeling was only intensified when she realized that he was wearing a different blue flannel than he had earlier, meaning he had changed specifically for her. A small voice in the back of her head tried to reason that it was likely just because his clothes had been dirty and sweaty from the ring but she chose to ignore it and allow herself to be flattered he was making an effort for her. He stood as she approached, his eyes briefly skimming over her body to admire her dress before returning to her face.

“Apologies for Mr. Hendricks, he’s an annoying asshole who can’t remember his manners when he drinks but he really is harmless. In about ten minutes he’ll be passed out in his usual corner.” Rhett assured her and she laughed.

“I can handle some cat-calls, it’s when they try to get handsy that I bring out my pepper spray.” she said, partially as a joke but Rhett just pursed his lips.

“Well I can assure you no one around here is going to be bothering you. If your brother isn’t enough to deter them, I’ll make sure they get the memo.” he said earnestly and she smiled.

He pulled back her stool and helped her up, surprising her with his chivalry, so unlike the usual skirt-chasers she ran into at the university. Usually men could barely be bothered to text back and yet here was Rhett, treating her like she was royalty. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t like it.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d come but I sure am glad you did.” He said as he sat back down beside her. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Only if you remember what I told you earlier.” she said coyly, testing how much he had actually paid attention to her at the rodeo.

“Kenny, I’ll have a beer.” Rhett said to the man behind the bar with a slight smirk as he added “...and can you make something like a fruit cocktail? I don’t believe the lady likes her alcohol to taste like alcohol.”

“You remembered.” she said with a laugh as Kenny went to get the drinks.

“You sound surprised. Do city boys not listen well?” he asked.

“Not too many of them.” she replied.

“Damn shame, I could listen to your cute little accent all day long.” he said and she blushed at the compliment.

“Some might argue that you have the accent.” she shot back.

“Not when you’re in my territory, sweetheart.” he said with that dazzling smile that she thought could charm the pants off a nun.

“I suppose you’re right.” she said before Kenny returned with a beer bottle and what she believed was an attempt at a cocktail, setting down in front of her a glass of pinkish red liquid and ice with a cherry on a toothpick hanging off the side. “Thank you.”

“That may be the fanciest thing I’ve ever seen Kenny make.” Rhett said when he left them to talk to a customer further down the bar. “How’s it taste?”

She took a sip and laughed, causing Rhett to ask her what was so funny.

“I’m fairly certain that this is just tequila mixed with fruit punch.” she answered.

“Really?” Rhett asked, amused and she slid the drink closer to him so he could have a sip. “Oh, that is definitely just tequila mixed with fruit punch.”

“I will say, I actually quite like it.” she said, pulling it closer to her again before popping the cherry into her mouth and taking another drink.

“So, how was your first rodeo?” Rhett asked before taking a swig of his beer. “Everything you thought it would be?”

“It was…” she trailed off, unsure how to summarize it all. “Well, I don’t think I’ve been as stressed as I was watching you ride since I presented my thesis idea last year.”

“You were worried about me?” Rhett asked and although his smirk was cocky, she could hear the undercurrent of vulnerability, like he was genuinely surprised that she actually cared about if he had gotten hurt.

“Yes, I was. That bull was like nothing I’d seen all night and the way the announcer talked about it had me squeezing Sarah’s hand probably a bit too hard.” she replied. “But I guess I had no reason to be worried because you made it look almost easy.”

“Well, I am real good at what I do.” he assured her earnestly before smirking and suggestively adding “I’m real good at everything I do.”

“Easy there, cowboy!” she said with a laugh, feeling more comfortable with him after five minutes than she felt with most people she had known for years. He was just so easy to talk to, being effortlessly vulnerable yet continually making her laugh like he was starved for the sound a way a man is starved for water in a desert.

“Just trying to keep you on your toes, girl.” he said with a wink.

“So what do you do when you’re not riding bulls or winking at girls in bars?” she asked, changing the subject.

“I work on my family’s ranch and sometimes if I have time, I hire myself out as a farmhand to other local ranchers when they need it.” he answered. “But the rodeo circuits are my main job.”

“You enjoy being thrown off thousand pound cows into the dirt?” she asked. “Do you just really like pain, is that it?”

“You and your damn wit, girl…” he said, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Nobody would ever even know you’re related to quiet old Sam with a wicked tongue like that. But yes, I do enjoy it. Maybe not the pain so much but there’s just something about how exhilarating it feels during those eight seconds. So freeing.”

“Sounds terrifying, I think I’ll stick to bike riding. Or maybe horse riding if I can stop almost falling off the damn thing.” she joked.

“Not having much luck with horses then?” Rhett asked, amused.

“I swear, if Sam wasn’t holding the saddle and walking beside me, I would have fallen off the horse more this week than every rider from tonight put together.” she answered. “I’m trying my best but I don’t think I’m very good at all this cowgirl stuff.”

“Maybe you just need a good teacher.” Rhett said.

“I’m supposed to be on spring break from school.” she replied with a laugh. “I’m supposed to be relaxing and having fun, not learning.”

“Who says you can’t do both?” Rhett purred, his low voice and southern drawl sending a wave of heat straight down to her core. “I mean, you just might need some practice straddling and riding something else.”

“I suppose you have something in particular in mind for your course curriculum?” she asked, leaning in to match his low whisper.

“Maybe one or two things.” he answered with that cocky smirk she couldn’t help but love.

“Then maybe we can start class later tonight…” she said so quietly he could only hear it because she was inches from his face before she pulled backwards into her original sitting position as he groaned and added at normal volume “but I don’t go home with just any old cowboy so let’s hope this date goes well.”

“How am I doing so far?” he asked and she smiled as she sipped her cocktail, ignoring the bulge in his pants that had grown as she had gotten closer.

“Ask me again after another drink or two.” she replied and he nodded.

“Yes ma’am.” he said, eyeing her half drunk drink.

They talked for a long while about their lives, their families, their childhoods. They talked about their favorite music and their hobbies and everything in between they could think of. They were getting to know one another, really hitting it off as the rest of the bar seemed to disappear. As they talked, she had to remind herself not to get lost in his beautiful blue eyes or get distracted by his rugged beauty, so handsome he was like a movie star straight out of one of the old western films her grandfather used to watch. When they had talked so long that her cocktail and his beer bottle were empty, Rhett flagged down the bartender to order another round.

“There’s still one thing I don’t understand.” he said as Kenny placed their second drinks in front of them, nodding a thanks. “Why come out to Wabang, Wyoming for spring break? Don’t college kids usually go to the beach or somethin’ like that?”

“They do. In fact, that’s where most of my friends are right now.” she replied. “But ever since Sam met Jenna and they moved out here, we really only see them when they come over for Christmas and Thanksgiving and stuff. I’d never seen the town that my brother fell in love with almost as much as he fell for Jenna or the little ranch that he’s always talking about on the phone. I wanted to see them all for a little longer than just a few days out of the year. So, two weeks in Wabang sounded pretty nice for a break.”

“And now?” Rhett asked. “Are you disappointed that you’re not on a beach with your friends?”

“Not really… I mean of course I’m a little jealous of all the pictures they’re sending me but Wyoming is really growing on me.” she said earnestly. “And besides, it has some things I couldn’t get on a beach.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” he asked.

“Well there’s one cowboy in particular who’s really caught my eye.” Rhett quirked an eyebrow in amused interest as she continued. “He told me he’d teach me how to be a cowgirl—an offer I’m still considering by the way… oh, and there’s this fantastic cocktail that you just can’t get anywhere but the Handsome Gambler.”

“And how is that tequila and fruit punch treating you?” Rhett asked and she laughed.

“I’ll be honest, it’s better than most of the ‘fancy’ overpriced drinks I’ve ever had at nightclubs with my friends.” she answered.

“I hope you were getting others to buy those for you. Pretty girls should never have to pay for their own drinks.” Rhett said.

“Aww, you think I’m pretty?” she asked teasingly with a smile.

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” he said earnestly, without a single hint of irony and she was taken aback by his candor.

She was so used to men giving cheesy pick up lines and half-baked compliments just so they could get into her pants, that she was thrown off kilter by the realization that Rhett was serious. Evidently, he saw the surprise in her face because he leaned forwards, his blue eyes staring deep into her own.

“I mean every single word. I don’t want you to think that I’m just running my mouth to get you in bed.” he said and she froze under his gaze, struck by just how wrong she had been when she had assumed Rhett was just another player who would say anything to try and get his dick wet. “I mean of course I’d still love to have you in my bed but I really do like you.” She laughed a little at his cheeky addition but was still stunned speechless by his words.

“Rhett, I-” was all she managed to stutter out before blushing and looking down at the bartop in embarrassment. “I really like you too.”

He put his hand under her chin and pushed it upwards to bring her to look at him, his blue eyes holding her gaze intensely.

“Will you dance with me?” he asked with a smile.

“Dance?” she asked, surprised.

“Yeah, dancing. They have that in the big cities right?” he joked and she laughed, looking over at the couples on the dance floor doing some kind of slow dance.

“We do have dancing in the city, just maybe not that kind of dancing.” she said, turning back to him. “It’s more like grinding… you have to be pretty drunk to do it.”

“Well, how about I teach you how to two step and you teach me how to grind?” he replied, flashing that mischievous grin again. “It can be your first cowgirl lesson.”

“I will dance with you but I will not be grinding, I’m far too sober for that.” she answered. “So are you gonna teach me how to square dance? Err, line dance? What is it called?”

“I’ll teach you to two step, I think line dancing may be a bit advanced for a first timer.” Rhett said, standing up, putting his hat on, and holding out his hand.

She took it, memorizing every line and callus of his strong hand against her soft skin, and he helped her down from the stool before leading her over to the area that was serving as a dance floor. They got into a typical slow dancing position, her hand on his shoulder and his hand resting on her waist while their remaining hands joined together. He taught her a simple move called a “two step” and then they were off, waltzing around the dance floor as she tried to remain on beat.

He would occasionally give her a pointer or correction but for the most part he praised her for getting a hang of it fairly quickly. They kept up that simple routine for an entire song and by the time the final notes of “Head Over Boots” played, she no longer had to focus on counting and her steps, instead able to simply enjoy the feeling of his hand on her lower back keeping her pressed up against him.

“Alright darlin’, this next one is a little bit faster.” he warned her with a smile as the next song began to play. “You up for the challenge?”

“Bring it on, cowboy!” she replied and he smirked.

“Alright, I warned you.” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye that made her weak at the knees, distracting her so that when he spun her out and around before reeling her back in, she was caught completely off guard.

She laughed, trying (and failing) to avoid stepping on his boots as she adjusted to the new pace and the added spins but after another song or two, she had acclimated to the dancing quite well. As “Why Don’t We Just Dance” ended, they were both breathing hard through wide grins, her heaving chest pressed against his, grateful to discover the next song was a slow song. They switched from two stepping to simply swaying, catching their breath as some melodic crooning about “Tennessee Whiskey” relaxed them against one another.

“Has anyone ever told you that your hat is sexy?” she asked once their heart rates had returned to normal and their breathing evened out, looking up at him.

“Once or twice.” Rhett replied with a smirk.

“Well, in that case…” she said before reaching up to grab his hat, pulling it off his head and placing it on her own. “How do I look? Sexy?”

“I- err… yes, you do look sexy.” he said, a look on his face somewhere between surprise and nervousness.

“You look like I just took a baseball bat to your truck headlights or something. What is it? Do you not like people touching your hat?” she asked, starting to get a little nervous that she had somehow fucked up in her lame attempt at flirting.

“No… it’s just, uh, around here a girl putting on a guy’s hat means… something special.” Rhett answered.

“Something special?” she asked.

“It’s like a… well, an unofficial rule that if a lady takes a fella’s hat and puts it on herself, then she… she’s supposed to go home with him at the end of the night.” replied, his usual cocky demeanor missing as he seemed nervous to tell her.

“Oh…” she said, understanding the full meaning of what she’d just done.

“But you didn’t know and I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, so I’ll just take it back.” He said, taking his hat off of her head and placing it firmly on his own, reaching his hand back out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “It’s a stupid tradition anyways. Just backcountry nonsense, really.”

She could tell that he seemed nervous, like she’d suddenly just slap him and storm off for daring to suggest that she had to sleep with him. She stared deep into his eyes, touched by the adoration and concern in them, genuinely caring if he had upset her. She took a breath to prepare herself for what she was about to do before launching up onto her toes, throwing her arms around his neck, and pressing her lips to his.

He seemed caught off guard for a moment before smiling against her lips as he deepened the kiss, his hands tightening around her waist to hold her closer. The kiss was so good that she almost forgot why she had initiated it in the first place, reaching up to snatch his hat off of his head, pulling back in his arms to place it firmly on her head with a wink.

“Oh no… It looks like I just have to go home with you tonight.” she purred coyly, giving him a smirk before leaning in and adding lowly “Or I guess you could come home with me since my hotel room is probably closer than your house and I just can’t wait to get my mouth on your cock.”

Rhett looked absolutely stunned, completely in awe of the gorgeous minx in his arms.

“God damn, woman…” was all he could manage to say, tipping the brim of his hat on her head up with a finger so he could hungrily kiss her again, one hand on her waist and the other on the side of her neck.

He kissed her like a man possessed until her chest was heaving against his, breathless from his affection when he pulled back and smirked at the dazed look on her face as she gazed up at him.

“I gotta get you outta here.” he growled before pulling her off the dance floor and towards the door, hand tight on her waist as he called out for Kenny to put the drinks on his tab.

It seemed like half the bar was staring at them as they exited, focused on Rhett’s hat on her head, but she couldn’t find the energy to care as Rhett looked back at her with a devilish grin that made tantalizing promises for when he got her alone. He held the door open for her as they left the bar and his warm palm was flat against her back as he steered her towards the passenger door of a blue pick-up truck. He opened the door for her and leaned in for another kiss, desperately missing the feeling of her lips against his. He had meant for it to be quick, he really had, but they simply couldn’t stop once they’d started. Her hands looped around his neck and into his hair as his hands wandered the silhouette of her body before settling on her ass with a small squeeze. She pulled back to catch her breath and put a hand on his chest as a signal to stop.

“You’d better get me to a bed, Rhett. I’m too classy to let you fuck me against your truck… well, at least not for our first time.” she said with a wink before turning to hop up into the passenger seat.

“Yes ma’am!” Rhett replied smugly as he closed the door and hurried around to get in the driver’s seat.

As he started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot, his hard cock ached, straining almost painfully against the confines of his jeans. The air was thick with sexual tension, the only noises being an old country song playing quietly on the crackly radio and the rumble of the engine. Rhett stared straight ahead at the road because he thought if he glanced at her, he’d likely have to pull over the truck and take her right there on the roadside in the bed of his truck. But he kept himself in check, thinking that she was the kind of girl who deserved to be fucked on the softest bed he could find.

He only lasted about a minute of driving before one of his hands moved from the steering wheel to rest on her thigh, toying with the hem of her dress just above her knee. His fingers wandered her thigh as he slowly pulled her dress up to reveal more and more of her bare skin. She shifted in her seat, squeezing her legs together as she tried to ignore the ever-growing wildfire of desire within her core that hadn’t given her a moment’s reprieve since it had sparked during their first kiss.

“What have we here?” Rhett asked as he caught a peek of her lacy panties as the fabric of her skirt bunched up at her waist.

The hungry rasp in his voice sent a shiver of attraction through her body and she dug her nails into the seat of his truck, gripping so hard that her knuckles were surely turning white.

“How’d you know that’s my favorite color?” he asked with a smirk and she sucked in a breath as his fingers skimmed over the waistband of her panties, and she felt as if they were miles away from the place she wanted him to touch.

“Oh god Rhett, please don’t tease.” she groaned as his wandering fingers advanced towards her clit but retreated just shy of reaching it.

“I’ll take care of you darlin’, just be patient.” he assured her, fingers trailing teasing patterns into the lacy fabric above her pussy. “Fuck, you look so sexy just sitting here all hot ‘n bothered in my truck in your pretty little dress with my hat on.”

She whined, desperately wishing for his fingers to move just inches down to relieve her burning need. Rhett’s teasing had frustrated her enough that she decided to take matters into her own hands, or more accurately, his. She grabbed his hand and pushed it down in between her legs, giving a sigh when she felt the slight pressure against her clit. Rhett chuckled but before she could ask what was so funny, his deft fingers pushed her panties aside and plunged two fingers deep into her wet core. She gasped in surprise and her hands flew to clutch his wrist as he began to slowly drag his fingers in and out.

“So impatient…” he tsked, plunging even deeper. “Do I need to tie your hands up so you’ll be a good girl?”

His words sent a thrill through her body and her pussy clenched at the thought, her walls squeezing his fingers as she let out a slight moan. Her reaction surprised Rhett and he decided to test a theory, still pumping in and out.

“Oh, you like that? You like the thought of being tied up?” he asked, voice low and rough. “You’d look so fucking hot all trussed up in my lasso.”

Once again, her pussy clenched and he chuckled. She was getting wetter by the second and he knew she was just as into the idea as he was.

“Is that what you want, girl? You want me to bring my lasso to bed? Tie you up and take you over and over until you can’t even think?” Rhett asked, stopping his movements completely when she didn’t answer, too lost in the feeling of the delicious drag of his fingers. “I said, is that what you want, girl? I won’t do shit until I know exactly what you want me to do to you tonight.”

“Yes! Oh god yes, Rhett!” she cried out, hands squeezing his wrist as if it would make him continue his movements. “I want you tie me up and fuck me so good, please Rhett!”

“There you go, darlin’. Good girls who use their words get rewarded.” he said, adding a third finger and resuming his movements as she gave a breathy moan. “Fuck, you feel so damn good around my fingers. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock. So god damn wet too, all this for me?”

She couldn’t even answer with anything more than a moan as he finger fucked her but Rhett knew the answer already. His thumb swirled her clit as his fingers thrust in and out of her cunt at a relentless pace and she could hardly breathe as her climax quickly approached.

“Rhett!” she exclaimed, her hands gripping onto his arm as the waves of pleasure finally began to crest.

“Shh, I’ve got you girl.” Rhett tsked like he was trying to calm a spooked animal and it only made her pussy clench down on his fingers harder as she orgasmed. “I don’t know what kind of small city boys you’ve been fucking in the past so I gotta make sure you’re ready to take a big country boy like me.” He rode her through her orgasm, giving one last hard thrust just before it ended and curling his fingers to reach that perfect spot inside before pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth. She watched breathlessly as he sucked his fingers clean of her juices, humming in content as he pulled the truck into the hotel parking lot.

“If you can make me cum like that with just your fingers, I don’t think I’ll survive tonight.” she said and he smirked.

“Let’s see how long you can last riding on my cock. Maybe you’ll make it more than eight seconds like a true cowgirl.” he joked with a wink before hopping out of the truck and heading around to her side.

Still catching her breath, she was vaguely aware of him grabbing something from the truck bed and when he opened her door, she found him hanging his lasso on his belt. She turned to hop out only for Rhett to grab her by the waist and pull her out, setting her down between him and the truck. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss that slowly built in intensity until she was so caught up in the feeling of his tongue that she just barely noticed Rhett spinning her away from the truck and closing the door, walking her backwards towards the motel. They paused briefly so she could gasp out her room number and take the keys out of her pocket, which Rhett quickly took before he resumed steering her in the right direction.

Luckily, her room was on the first floor so they didn’t have to use the stairs, which would have been impossible with the way they were stumbling around blindly, connected at both the lips and the hips. They fumbled their way down the hallway, bumping into walls and doors as they made out with a ferocious hunger for one another. Evidently, Rhett became impatient with how slow their progress to her room was and he begrudgingly pulled his lips off of hers. Before she could whine or ask what he was doing, she suddenly found herself hoisted over his shoulder, looking down at his delicious backside as his strong arms anchored her thighs to his chest.

“Rhett!” she squealed in surprise and he silenced her with a light slap on her ass.

“Hush now girl, wouldn’t want to wake the other motel guests, would we?” he said smugly as he carefully leaned down to grab his hat from off the ground where it had fallen from her head when he had thrown her over his shoulder.

He put the hat back on his head as he hurried down the hallway to her room, briefly swearing as he fumbled with the keys to unlock the door. He swept inside, kicking the door closed behind him and flicking the light switch to turn on the lamps as he headed straight for the bed. She expected him to toss her onto the bed like a sack of potatoes with his hurry and ferocity but was surprised when he carefully laid her on the bed like she was the most fragile and precious thing he had ever touched. Her heart fluttered at how special it made her feel. She gazed up at him through her eyelashes as he chucked off his flannel and his boots, dropping them on the floor before setting his hat and lasso on the bed.

“Didn’t think you knew how to be gentle, cowboy.” she said cheekily, her breasts rising and falling as she caught her breath from the excitement and Rhett smirked as he pulled off her shoes and discarded them.

“I can be gentle if that’s what you want, sweetheart.” he said as he slowly and carefully climbed on top of her, gently brushing a strand of hair out of her face even as he caged her beneath him. “I can be whatever you want, darlin’. Gentle…” he purred, pressing feather-light kisses to her neck, a smile on his lips just barely ghosting over her skin before he moved to her ear. “Rough…” he growled before surging downwards to give her a bruisingly hard kiss that took her breath away before pulling back and leaving her gasping for air, blinking up at his smug smirk. “Somewhere in between…” he said as he returned to her neck, applying a light pressure as he tongued a spot that would surely be a hickey the next morning. It was just perfect and a long moan escaped her mouth involuntarily, her arms wrapping around his neck and threading her fingers into his hair with light tugs and Rhett chuckled against her skin. “Ah, there it is.” he said smugly.

“Don’t stop!” she cried out and he complied, returning to tonguing her skin. “Fuck, Rhett, don’t stop!”

Rhett’s mouth explored every inch of her skin from the top of her neck to the cleavage above the neckline of her dress, taking stock of what spots made her mewl and squirm the most. He pushed her dress straps aside so he could press tender kisses onto her shoulder, finding a particularly sensitive spot near her collarbone that he spent extra time teasing. His hands slipped beneath her body and began to unzip her dress, only getting halfway down her back before the zipper got stuck. He pulled it again but annoyingly it held fast. He yanked it once more, grumbling in frustration against her neck when it refused to come loose.

“Slow down there cowboy.” she warned and he pulled away from her skin to look at her. “You rip my favorite dress and I’ll cut up your favorite hat.”

“Darlin’, I’d like to see you try.” he replied with a smirk but nevertheless his movements slowed to carefully finish removing her dress, the zipper finally giving way and letting him pull it all the way down.

He slipped the fabric off of her body, reveling as more and more of her body was revealed to him, inch by tantalizing inch. He admired every curve, astonished with how she only seemed to get more and more attractive the less clothes she had on. He divested her of her bra much easier than he had with her dress, able to do it one-handed and without looking from a lot of practice. As her breasts were freed, her hands went to cover them instinctually, looking shy and nervous although he simply couldn’t understand why.

“Don’t hide from me sweetheart.” he coaxed, gently pulling her hands from her chest and taking in the sight of her bare breasts and stiffening nipples. She was gorgeous and he felt like he was looking at a goddess, unable to comprehend why she would ever think she was anything other than perfect. “You’re so beautiful, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I mean it.”

She sucked in a breath at his lovely words and the almost irreverent look in his eyes as he gazed down at her body in admiration and she was caught off guard when he stooped down to return to kissing her, capturing her lips with his own before she could even have a moment to think of a response. Without the fabric of her dress as protection, the cold metal of his ridiculously large belt buckle teased her bare skin as it was pressed between their bodies and she wouldn’t be surprised if the next morning, she ended up with an indentation of it there on her stomach.

She realized that Rhett was still completely dressed while she had been stripped all the way down to only her panties. Wanting to even the playing field a bit, she grabbed at the hem of his shirt and began pulling it up, Rhett pulling back from the kiss to remove it completely, tossing it aside. She marveled at his well-toned abs, her fingers skating along the hard lines of muscle. She chuckled at the tattoo of a man riding a bull that he had on his right pec, the black ink a stark contrast to his sun kissed skin even in the low lamplight of the hotel room. He had a bruise on his ribcage that was forming and he knew it would hurt like a bitch in the morning but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he watched her eyes devour him.

“Doesn’t hurt much right now, sweetheart.” he assured her. “This was one of my luckier rides, not as beat up as I usually am even though Napalm was a real mean son of a bitch. Maybe you’re my lucky charm.”

“Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?” she asked tentatively when he winced as her fingertips grazed the tender skin.

“A little.” he answered, dipping down to whisper in her ear. “But I don’t really notice it when I have you to distract me.”

“Guess I better get to distracting then.” she replied with a smirk before latching on to his neck, determined to leave a mark on him to counter all the ones he had given her.

“Tryin’ to mark me up, girl?” he asked, half a chuckle, half a moan. “Let everyone in town know you’ve staked your claim on me?”

She laughed but was cut off as it suddenly turned into a moan, his hands grasping at her breasts. She found herself unbelievably turned on by his wandering hands (and mouth) as they continued to make out, pausing occasionally only to suck a hickey into the other’s neck before returning to their mouths. With his shirt off, her hands were able to explore his body, memorizing the feel of every inch of his skin under her fingertips. Feeling his erection straining against the confines of his jeans as he ground himself against her, she let her hands trail down his body to his belt.

She mentally cursed him for having such a ridiculously large belt buckle, making it ten times harder than it needed to be for her to undo it. After trying and failing a few times, she groaned in impatient frustration, tugging at his belt in angry desperation. She felt him smirk against her lips and before she had time to react, Rhett grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head. She gasped in surprise and wiggled fruitlessly in his grip as he pulled back to admire the sight of her below him.

“Your hands are getting in my way, darlin’.” he scolded playfully. “Do I need to get my lasso out or can you behave like a good girl?”

“Hmmm…” she said, pretending to think before replying with mock innocence. “I’m not sure if I can control myself, Rhett.”

“You sure sweetheart?” he asked seriously, giving her an out she didn’t need.

“I’m sure.” she replied.

“Gonna need a safeword, darlin’. Got one in mind?” Rhett asked, trailing a finger down her front teasingly and she thought carefully for a moment.

“How about ‘Napalm’…” she said, a sly smile spreading on her face. “You know, in the hopes you can last longer than eight seconds with me.”

He laughed and said “I think I know how to put that wicked tongue of yours to better use…” before pulling her in to roughly kiss her.

She got no warning before he ended the kiss as suddenly as it began and he moved to sit up on his knees, roughly flipping her over before returning to straddle her. She didn’t even have time to gasp or whine as he pulled her hands behind her back and leaned over to grab his lasso. He arranged her arms so that they were one on top of the other with her elbows against the opposite wrists before beginning to wind his lasso around them as if he was making a design of some kind.

As he worked, she groaned at the sensation of his clothed erection against her ass. Her head was pushed against the mattress, the cool sheets cushioning her cheek and teasing her hard nipples. He smugly hummed a tune that she eventually recognized at the song that had been playing in the truck on the ride from the bar. She moved her arms and shoulders around slightly to test how sturdy his work in progress was and he reached around to pull her head up slightly, a careful but firm hand on her throat.

“You really need to learn how to behave, sweetheart.” he growled into her ear and she felt a shiver run down her spine in anticipation. “If you can’t stay still until I’m done, I’m gonna leave you tied up to make you watch me jerk myself off and you won’t get to cum again tonight. Got it?”

“Yes.” she replied breathlessly, his hand around her throat gentle to not hurt her or cut off her air but still firm enough to remind her he was in charge.

“Yes, what?” he asked, squeezing just a miniscule amount so she had to take slightly deeper breaths to answer.

“Yes, sir.” she replied and he removed the pressure on her throat so she could breathe normally again, his hand only serving to keep her head up.

“Good girl.” he cooed, pressing a soft rewarding kiss onto her shoulder before lowering her back down and resuming his work.

She stayed still, just enjoying the feeling of the coarse rope on her skin until her arms were completely bound together and Rhett was seemingly pleased with his work.

“Is that too tight, darlin’?” he asked.

“It’s perfect.” she answered before smugly adding “Sir.”

In seconds, he had her flipped back over onto her back, her arms trapped beneath her but she obediently stayed still, gazing up at him faux-innocently as she waited for his next instruction.

“Alright darlin’, test it out.” he ordered smugly. “See if my ropework is adequate enough for your high city standards.”

Following his instructions, she tried to pull her wrists free but only succeeded in wiggling her upper half. With her shoulders back, her chest was pushed out and Rhett seemed very pleased at the sight of her wriggling form, her breasts jiggling lightly. He cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb against her lips teasingly before moving to run his fingers over her nipples.

She was helpless, but in the best way possible. She liked–no, loved–being at his mercy, completely reliant on him to provide for her pleasure. It was strange, she had never given anyone that kind of power over her in bed, not even long-term lovers, she just didn’t trust them. But for some baffling reason, she was not only comfortable but eager to give Rhett, a man she had met only hours earlier, that power.

“Perfect.” Rhett said, so quietly it was almost as if it was to himself, as he gazed down at her and continued to drag his fingernails over her nipples until they were stiff with arousal. “God, you look so fucking perfect all trussed up in my lasso.” Embarrassed by his praise, she averted her eyes as she felt her cheeks heating up but he simply pulled her chin to look back at him. “Don’t hide from me, girl. You need to know just how perfect you are.”

She had no reply, stunned speechless, only able to respond by surging upwards as much as she could to kiss him passionately. He immediately reciprocated the urgency in her kiss, his tongue parting her lips before delving deeper into her mouth. He was laying above her, hands on either side of her head supporting his weight as he wedged his knee between her thighs, pressing directly against her core. Slowly, she began grinding against it, her only way to bring even a fraction of relief to her aching cunt with her hands tied behind her back. She rocked against his knee several times before Rhett realized just what she was doing, pulling back to watch but leaving his knee in place. She wiggled and whined at the loss of his mouth against hers, helpless to do anything but continue humping his knee like a bitch in heat.

“Darlin’, you look so hot trying to ride my thigh like it’s a bull.” he growled as his blue eyes fixed on her intently.

“I’m not an expert like you, I think I might need some pointers…” she said, batting her eyelashes at him sweetly as she continued to desperately buck her hips, feeling the rough denim of his jeans even through the thin fabric of her panties.

“I think you're right, and I do believe I promised you some cowgirl lessons.” he replied smugly.

Carefully he pulled her up with him, sitting against the headboard with his legs spread obscenely as he pulled her to straddle his thigh. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed his cowboy hat, placing it upon her head as she narrowed her eyes at him with an amused curiosity.

“Can’t ride without the hat, darlin’.” he said simply and she opened her mouth to reply but was cut off when his strong hands grabbed her hips and pulled her down onto his thigh so she would moan. “Go ahead and let me see what I’m working with.”

His hands fell from her hips to lie beside him, watching her with hungry eyes as she began to ride his thigh, chasing enough friction against her core to bring her relief. Strangely, she didn’t feel nervous or self-conscious anymore. She had thought that she’d feel silly dry humping Rhett’s jeans like a bitch in heat but when he looked at her the way he did, she just felt sexy. She bit her lip to contain her moans as she shifted her hips back and forth, up and down, and everything in between. Her head fell back slightly but she pulled back up just in time so as not to drop his hat.

“How am I doing? Passing for a cowgirl?” she asked after a minute of dragging herself against his thigh over and over again.

“You’re a natural, sweetheart.” he said, gazing up at her reverently. “Only thing I can teach you is to use your thighs too, not just your hips.”

“Like this?” she asked, continuing her movements but clenching her thighs down against his to keep herself steady.

“Perfect…” Rhett replied, leaning forwards to press sloppy kisses on her breasts as she rode, his large hands warming her skin as they returned to her hips and then traveled up her sides to assist in his assault on her breasts.

“Fuck, Rhett…” she moaned, struggling to keep her rhythm as she got ever closer to her climax, control of her body slipping away as her stamina ran out but her need increased.

Evidently, Rhett noticed her beginning to struggle, dragging his hands back down from her breasts to grab her hips and guide her movements, taking over when she was getting too close to the edge to keep it up. With his grip bruisingly hard on her hips, he helped to keep her riding through the intensely pleasurable waves of her orgasm when it hit suddenly.

“That’s it, baby. I’ve got you.” he assured her as she got lost in the feeling, throwing her head back with a loud cry, his hat flying off her head and onto the floor. She panted, her chest heaving as her orgasm ran its course.

“Good girl.” Rhett purred and despite having just cum, she felt a stirring in her core once again at those words, her body seemingly not satisfied with just the one soul-shattering orgasm.

She slumped forwards in exhaustion against his chest, unable to push herself back up with her hands still tied behind her back. He let her sit there for a moment to catch her breath, her head still spinning as he kept an arm around her waist to pull her against him and keep her grounded, his other hands stroking her hair comfortingly. When she had had enough time to reorient herself, he carefully laid her back down onto the bed, her bound arms trapped uselessly between her body and the bed once more.

She whined, wiggling in disappointment as he got up out of the bed and he paused to lean over and inspect her panties, now drenched with her cum. He traced just the tip of his finger against the fabric, chuckling when she lifted her hips to chase his hand as it retreated.

“Look at that, darlin’... fucking soaked. Even got a little on my pants.” He said before he shucked off his jeans, discarding them to the floor and returning to his place in between her legs. “Sweetheart, are you particularly attached to this pair of panties?”

“No…” she answered, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“Good. I’ll buy you a new pair.” he said, with only that serving as a warning before he literally ripped them off her and she gasped, half in surprise and half in desire. “Well if that ain’t just the prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen.”

“Rhett, I need you…” she moaned, feeling particularly empty as admired her cunt.

“Think you’re ready for me?” he asked and she nodded vigorously, pulling his dick out of his boxers to let her see it for the first time.

Rhett smirked as her eyes widened at the sight, well aware of how above average his dick was and reveled in people’s stunned reactions when they saw it. ‘Of course’, she thought looking at his large member, ‘Rhett not only had movie star looks but he had been blessed with a porn star cock as well’. From his position kneeling between her legs, he let his cock rest on her abdomen, showing her just how deep he would go when fully seated inside of her. It was intimidating but she felt as if she’d explode if she didn’t get it inside her soon.

“You sure you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked again, tapping his cock on her stomach, a bead of precum leaking from it’s head onto her overheated skin.

“Yes Rhett, please!” she whined, wiggling in her bonds desperately.

“Want me to wear a condom? I swear on my mama’s life I’m clean.” he assured her.

“I’m on the pill and I’m clean, Rhett, please just fuck me.” she begged impatiently.

“Shh darlin’...” he said quietly, amused at her desperation but still reaching down to stroke her hair out of her face. “I’m gonna take care of you, I promise. Good things come to girls who are patient, sweetheart.”

“Rhett, please let me touch you, please, please, please.” she babbled and he shushed her again.

“Alright, alright, sweetheart. Take a breath.” he said, reaching under her to untie the ropes expertly with one hand and without a minute, she was free.

Immediately, her hands went to his body, touching every inch of his bare skin that she could, surging upwards to kiss him as if his lips were the air she needed to breathe. She pulled back for air and he cupped her cheek with one hand, the other by her head holding his weight off of her.

“Ready for me, darlin’? He asked, the head of his cock resting against her entrance and she nodded vigorously. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

He entered her slowly and she gasped, feeling suddenly as if all the air had been knocked from her lungs. Rhett moved at a glacial pace, giving her time to adjust to the feeling of his large cock stretching her open. He groaned as he felt her walls squeeze him, grunting when he finally bottomed out in her hot, wet cunt. He stayed still, giving her a minute to get used to the feeling of being stretched so deeply, resting his forehead against hers and murmuring encouragement and praise. He wiped a tear when it fell from the corner of her watering eyes and pressed a sweet kiss onto her lips, reminding her to breathe.

“You alright sweetheart?” he asked lowly and she took a breath, beginning to feel the discomfort fade and the pleasure return.

“Yes.” she said, gazing up into his blue eyes as he smiled down at her.

He began slow, pulling out almost all the way only to push back in at an agonizingly slow pace, increasing the speed just a miniscule amount with each thrust. When he bottomed out in her again after a few thrusts, she moaned and her legs went instinctively around his hips, heels digging into his ass like she was trying to keep him from pulling out.

“Faster, Rhett, please.” she moaned and he obliged, setting a steady pace as he thrust in and out.

As he sped up, she clung to him like a lifeline in the sea, tugging on his hair and raking her nails lightly (for the most part) across his back. The wet slapping noises of their bodies meeting rose in intensity, his grunts and her moans growing louder and louder until it was all she could hear. As he pounded into her, she threw her head back and closed her eyes in ecstasy. Never before had she been fucked so good and so hard and she was surprised at just how much she was loving missionary position, reveling in the intimacy of it instead of the impersonal and quick doggie style fucks most guys went for.

She could feel herself getting closer to the edge and evidently Rhett noticed too as he slipped a hand down between their bodies and rubbed circles on her clit, sending her crashing over into her third soul-crushing toe-curling orgasm of the night. Rhett wasn’t far behind, the feeling of her clamping down on his cock as she screamed in pleasure being enough to push him over the cliff, the pace of his hips stuttering as he came hard buried deep in her cunt. He groaned as he emptied himself into her, taking a moment to breathe and memorize the feeling of her around him before he pulled out and sat back on his heels. He watched in stunned awe as his cum mixed with hers, dripping out of her hole and onto the sheets.

Satisfied with himself, he smirked when he saw her staring up at the ceiling in a dazed bliss, glassy eyes and wide smile on her face. He put on his boxers and went to the bathroom for a washcloth and a glass of water. She vaguely registered him cleaning her up, coaxing her to drink from the cup and felt chaste kisses on her wrists as he confirmed she didn’t have rope burns. She had never felt so satisfied, her mind a pleasurable fog as he put his flannel shirt on her, buttoning it up before he clicked off the lamp and settled into bed beside her.

“You still with me, darlin’?” Rhett asked, pulling the sheets up to cover them both.

“Yeah… I just…” she replied, trying to force her brain to form coherent sentences instead of reveling in the post-orgasmic haze.

“Never been fucked like that by a city boy?” he asked with a grin that revealed he already knew the answer and she laughed as she turned her head to look at him, thoughts finally clearing up.

“Three orgasms in one night? No, no one’s ever done that.” she replied as he reached across her to grab her waist and hold her closer, her hand going to trail mindless patterns on his arm as she spoke. “Usually I’m lucky if I can get one that I don’t have to do myself.”

“That’s a damn crime.” Rhett said. “You deserve to be getting them morning, noon, and night… and a few in-between for good measure.”

“I gotta say you’re pretty good at pillow talk.” she replied.

“It ain’t just talk, sweetheart. You should be waking up with a mouth on your cunt every morning.” he said and she laughed, unsure if he was joking or not.

“I’ve always wanted to wake up like that.” she mused.

“Then that’s how I’ll get you up tomorrow morning.” Rhett replied and when she gazed into his blue eyes and that devilish grin, she knew he wasn’t kidding, a shiver of anticipation running down her spine.

“Careful cowboy, don’t make promises you can’t keep.” she said with a smile as she curled closer into his arms with her head on his chest, slowly letting sleep overtake her as she listened to his steady heartbeat. She was so exhausted that she wasn’t sure if she imagined him pressing a soft kiss to the top of her forehead just before she fell asleep.

She thought it was a dream at first, the feeling of a tongue lapping at her folds, a nose bumping against her clit. It felt heavenly, like she was an angel floating among the clouds, with only two strong arms anchored around her thighs to ground her and keep her tethered to reality. She sighed out a breathy little half-moan and heard a deep chuckle from the mouth at her core, the vibrations against her wet cunt only intensifying the sensations before the mouth retreated from her entirely.

“Ah, there’s my pretty little city girl wakin’ up for me.” A deep voice rasped and she opened her eyelids, still heavy with sleep, to find Rhett grinning up at her like a devil between her legs, the lower half of his face glinting with her slick.

“Rhett?” she asked sleepily. “What are you doing?”

“I promised you I’d wake you with my mouth on your cunt…” he replied. “And I always keep my promises.” He winked before licking a strip on her clit that made her throw her head back and moan.

Surprised that he was not only willing, but eager, to eat her out she moaned for him to continue. He obliged obediently, sucking at her clit as she begged for him not to stop, his strong arms anchored around her thighs to keep her wide open for him. With one hand tugging on his hair and the other gripping the sheets hard, she orgasmed, chanting his name like a prayer as she came on his face. Rhett dutifully rode her through the waves of her orgasm, smiling against her cunt as he was pleased with her pleasure. He licked one last stroke over her folds as she panted in the wake of her orgasm.

He climbed up her body to give her a hungry kiss, the taste of her still on his lips making her head spin before he pulled back.

“I think I just proved I was telling the truth when I said I’m real good at everything I do.” he said

“Are you always this humble?” she laughed.

“Modesty is overrated, sweetheart.” he replied, smiling before he kissed her once more, his fingers swiftly unbuttoning her flannel to give himself better access to her breasts. “My shirt looks better on you than it does on me… but I think it’d look even better on the floor.”

She giggled against his lips as he pulled it off of her, tossing it onto the floor as he continued to play with her breasts. His phone buzzed on the nightstand and he groaned as he rolled off her to check it.

“Fucking Perry…” he muttered and she laughed, remembering he had told her Perry was his older brother. “One sec darlin’.”

She hummed in acknowledgement, taking the time to ogle at his naked torso in the daylight. His bruise was getting worse and she was noticing more in other spots that she hadn’t seen before in the low lamp light. His bull rider tattoo on his right pec looked even better now that she could make out all the little details. She had marked him up with some hickies, no doubt in her mind that she looked much the same. Realizing she had to use the bathroom, she sat up and swung her legs over the edge, pausing to look back at Rhett when he asked where she was going.

“To the bathroom and then maybe a shower, that alright with you cowboy?” she asked sarcastically and he shook his head and smiled.

She went to stand up but her legs were too wobbly and she began to fall, Rhett lunging forwards to catch her, wrapping an arm around her waist and hauling her back up onto the bed, now sitting right behind her. He laughed and she could feel his chest rumbling against her back, clearly proud of himself for contributing to her current state.

“Not funny, Rhett.” she scolded, shaking her head as she was unable to stop herself from smiling.

“You seem to very clumsy sweetheart, that’s twice now I’ve caught you while you’re falling.” he joked. “Maybe I make you a little weak at the knees, huh?”

“Asshole.” she laughed, shoving him away before he swept her off her feet and began walking her to the bathroom, her arms quickly flying around his neck.

He carried her to the bathroom, depositing her on the toilet before stepping to the sink to get a drink. After she finished her business, she stuck her head out the door and batted her eyelashes at him.

“Wanna join me in the shower, cowboy?” she asked coyly and he smirked as she crooked a finger towards him.

“I believe I’m obliged to, someone needs to keep you from slipping and falling again on your shaky little legs.” he joked as he walked to the shower and turned it on.

She should have known that having just an innocent shower was impossible with Rhett Abbott. What started as him washing her back quickly turned sexual when his hands wandered down to her ass and she found herself yet again being railed within an inch of her life by him. Afterwards, she shooed him off so she could wash her hair without him trying to seduce her again and once he ensured that she could stand on her own with a cheeky little smile, he hopped out to get dressed while she finished her shower. When she walked out of the bathroom covered only by a towel, Rhett tried to steal her it to make her laugh before they began making out once more.

“I wish I could just spend all day between your legs.” he groaned, trying to pull himself away from her so he didn’t do just that. “I could show you all the different uses for my lasso that are way better than roping cattle.”

“Tempting offer but I think my brother would break down the door thinking I was in trouble if I didn't come out.” she said with a laugh as she patted his chest and playfully pushed him away. “Speaking of which, you’d better get out of here before he comes to pick me up.”

She quickly got dressed, spying him slipping her ripped panties from the previous night into his back pocket with a cheeky smile out of the corner of her eye.

“Excuse me sir, are you stealing my panties?” she asked with a laugh.

“Well ma’am, I have to know what size and brand to get you for a replacement.” he replied smugly. “That’s all it is.”

“Oh, that’s all is it?” she asked, raising her eyebrows in amusement as she pulled him against her by his belt. “It wouldn’t be because you want a souvenir of your conquest? Because I don’t think it’s very fair that you get one and I don’t.”

“Well, I could give you my boxers but going commando for a day of ranch work might be a little painful.” he said and she shook her head. “So, how about this as a souvenir?” Rhett asked as he placed his hat on her head.

“So if cowboy law says that a girl taking a cowboy’s hat and putting it on her head means she’s going home with him, what does a cowboy taking off his hat and putting it on her head mean?” she asked and he smirked.

“You’ll have to find out by going out with me again tonight.” he replied.

“Hmm.” she said, pretending to think about his offer. “I guess I might be free tonight for some more lessons. Besides, I told you last night that I wanted to get my mouth on your cock and I still haven't so I have some promises to keep too…”

“Damn it woman, you’re really gonna make it real hard for me to leave aren't you?” he asked and she laughed.

“I’m certainly making something hard.” she said with a smirk as she trailed a hand down to palm his hardening bulge before stepping away to open the door in feigned innocence. “See you tonight, cowboy.”

“Can I get your number before I go, darlin’?” he asked as he stepped out the door and a sly smile grew on her face.

“Check your shirt pocket.” she said with a smirk and a wink before closing the door, leaving him dumbfounded on her doorstep when he reached into the pocket of his flannel and pulled out a slip of paper with her number on it, knowing that he’d truly met his match.

Looking through the peephole, she watched him walk towards his truck, a slight spring in his step. She could hear him whistling even through the door and down the hall and she laughed when she realized that it was the same song that had been playing when he fingered her in the cab of his truck, the same one he had been humming when he had been tying her up.

Peering out the curtains of the window, she watched him drive away, her brother’s truck passing Rhett’s exiting one as he entered the parking lot and she could swear that she saw her brother staring Rhett down through the windshield. Quickly, she got dressed and ready to go before heading down to the parking lot, deciding to leave Rhett’s hat on her head to mess with her brother. Sam was checking his phone when she hopped in the front seat, Jenna and the kids in the back seat.

“Good morning!” she said cheerfully and he nodded as he glanced over at her, returning his eyes to the wheel before they shot open in surprise and he had to do a double take.

“Whose hat is that?” he asked sternly. “That had better not be Rhett Abbott’s.”

“In an attempt to stop you from having a heart attack, I’m choosing not to answer that question.” she replied, barely able to hide her smug smirk at her brother’s panic.

“Good for you, girl!” Jenna cried, leaning forwards from the backseat between her children’s car seats to pat her sister-in-law on the shoulder. “Domesticate that wild cowboy.”

“No!” Sam said quickly, turning to look at his wife in stunned disbelief. “There will be no ‘domesticating’ any cowboys, especially not Rhett Abbott.”

“We’ll talk later…” Jenna mouthed to Y/N with a wink as she sat back in her seat.

Sam sighed grumpily, his face contorting into a frown as he shifted gears and pulled the truck out of the parking lot and down the road towards their ranch.

“Auntie Y/N, can I be the flower girl at the wedding?” Sarah asked suddenly from the back seat and Sam just about jumped out of his skin.

“WHAT?” he panickedly sputtered, Jesse laughing at his dad’s reaction. “Sarah Ann Y/L/N, what are you talking about?”

“Wearing someone else’s hat means that you like like them.” Sarah replied, cheerfully. “Chrissy and the older girls told me that her big sister was wearing a guy’s hat and the next week they got married!”

“If there’s a wedding, do I have to wear my sunday clothes?” Jesse whined. “I hate them, they’re so itchy!”

“No one is wearing sunday clothes because no one is getting married!” Sam insisted, his wife and sister struggling not to laugh at how virulently against even the suggestion of his little sister marrying the so-called “manwhore of Wabang”.

Y/N was so amused that she didn’t even try to reassure her brother that she was not going to be getting married after one date, but she also didn’t mention her second date with Rhett later that evening, deciding to give his heart a rest for a while as she thought about what cowgirl lessons Rhett might teach her that night.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x y/n #outer range #outer range fic #lewis pullman #lewis pullman said manwhore rights

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rosemarytrash · 7 months

Text

me drama posting cuz i actually had a really good experience today but it was rly nerve wracking lmao

in case some of you didn't know, i currently live in montana!! it's a nice enough state for its nature and the like, but politically it's kind of a shit show. pros and cons y'know, but as a trans guy it's fairly lame. also, bcuz geography is important, i live in eastern montana, not on the cool western side where all the mountain queers go hang out. that's generalizing a lot but it is what it is so bare with

anyway, back in 2021 there was a bill passed (SB 280) that effectively made it impossible for trans people to change their gender marker on their birth certificate or other identifying documents without having a sex change surgery, while at the same time writing in that no surgery exists to change your sex on a chromosomal level or any of that bullshit. whereas before that bill was passed, montana law was a little more loosey goosey about it. mainly in that it didn't yet have a republican legislature hyperfixated on a culture war to drum up support so trans people weren't really IDENTIFIED by the law, which was ironically kind of easier to navigate. idk, shit weird, i'm no expert

anyway, tbh, i never really CARED about changing my gender marker. i changed my name legally back when i was like 15 or 16 and i believe, at that time, i had the option to simultaneously change my gender marker. for whatever reason, i decided not to. i think it had something to do with healthcare and trying not to fuck up the future possibility of getting on T, which didn't happen for another year for me. i've also always been fairly loose about my gender identity in terms of a full identification with maleness/manhood. like, i'm a guy, i'm a dude, don't call me anything except that, but on a deeply personal level i see myself a little more in between on that kind of scale. maybe something inherently non-binary but no label has ever quite fit the bill, so trans guy with an asterisk will have to do. anyway!!! i don't really recall why i made that call, but i had, and it truthfully never really got me into any trouble. for all the times i later had to flash my ID, even to this date, i can only really recall one time where a gas station clerk gave me a weird look and said "sir... ma'am... sir-ma'am... here ya go" when i was buying cigarettes lmao. i was never questioned about it by employers and as far as i know was never turned away from a job because of it (which is good because montana doesn't have employment protections for trans people (last i checked)). so i truthfully spent a good 7 or so years relatively unbothered by this fact or by the fact that i had an F on my driver's license. it was inconsequential to me

recently though with republicans doing more and more lines of anti-LGBTQ cocaine and more people becoming aware of trans people, it's been unsettling here. y'know just mildly discomforting. and mentally that is fatiguing. i've also only now encountered some bureaucratic bullshit that's like okay, wow, this is actually going to be a bigger problem in the future and i'm not wanting to deal with that. mainly in the form of i'm getting married here soon, we want to try and do some kind of honeymoon adventure in the distant future, so for that i need an passport and from what i've read that can be a real fucking headache for trans people and it can be even harder to change in the future. so like blugh. i'm also in the process of applying to grad school and it's just--kind of annoying to have to identify myself a certain way. it's weird cuz i won't pretend it's put me in some life-threatening situation or there's anything that feels DIRE about needing to change it, but it just feels like there'd be a lot less awkwardness and vulnerability if i did. ironically when montanans were less redpilled i didn't care about changing all my legal shit over, but now that your average grandpa here thinks of trans people as botched teenage girls or child predators in bathrooms and THAT's their reason for getting out of the house to go to the polls next year, well yeah now i give a shit about "deceiving" the system. idk it's dumb

anyway i actually KNOW the girl who is the plaintiff against the govt in the lawsuit against SB 280. she's really cool and it's cool that i know her. i ended up reaching out to her a few months back to ask how that was going and what it meant for changing your gender marker in MT. and fantastically i had found out that late 2022 the judge on the case had issued an order that forced the DPHHS to suspend its practice under SB 280 since it was a fundamentally unworkable law and to return to its original practice prior, which allowed trans people and frankly anyone else with good enough cause to change their gender marker without meeting some bullshit made up requirements by the state.

it then took me months to get the gumption to actually write, edit, and file a petition for it. which i finally did today, and it surprisingly all got done in an afternoon, even though hypothetically the courthouse at 1PM on a tuesday should've been fairly busy. i'll be interested to see how it goes, because just cuz it's filed doesn't mean anything is certain. to my knowledge, LEGALLY, it should be a done deal, i should get an order from the judge that will allow me to get a new birth certificate and a new driver's license and all that jazz. but what do i know? the judge may want to have a hearing about it, which could be incredibly awkward in a courtroom full of other people waiting to have their cases heard, but idfk. my fingers are crossed that it'll go okay.

and it was kind of a good experience? i was as anxious as one could imagine. i'm a bearded dude walking in with paperwork asking kindly for an F to become an M lol. and the gals at the courthouse were momentarily confused, raised a few brows, had to talk to someone to see what the current rulings were in that previously mentioned lawsuit, but they were nice enough about it. they got my shit filed, they took $120 from me rather apologetically cuz that's what shit costs to file a civil petition in the state district courts. i get to find out by email if the judge will just approve the order i drafted or if he's going to want to speak to me. and i'm hoping either of those things happen before the wedding so none of that paperwork becomes a headache.

anyway this is a long post cuz i have a lot of thoughts and either i ramble on and on to my fiancee about it or i just splurge on whatever few unfortunate souls decide to read this :) thx if you do. there's no point really to any of it yk just airing out some thoughts i guess. i'll go draw some gay shit now <3

#personal #mostly txt #for a lazy background that's not too bad huh #i say that as someone who never does backgrounds #anyway gay art time methinks!#feel free not to read this it is not important i just dont have another home for my Thoughts

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twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 2 years

Text

Unit Y-0U

Prologue: Fragmented Memories

Notes: Yuu is Gender-Neutral. No set description of Yuu at all, aside from some mentions of scars and them being on the taller side. (explained in the prologue). The characters in this are a bit older as I made night raven an actual college. This is based off of the Great 7 Parent Au on this blog ans stuff.

This Prologue is entirely optional and just provides some basic worldbuilding for the world Yuu is from. Important stuff will be repeated in later chapters. I based this world on the Mirrorverse game. Also, I fixed Pocahontas because I am native and still enraged. She is a kid too, and not colonized. The Horned King is a forgotten Disney villain which surprises me since he's worse than Chernabog.

This kinda sucks ngl…. It's a series of, well… fractured and corrupt memories that aren't entirely accurate or in their entirety. I hope it gets better from here, but I doubt it. Yuu will actually start to remember things correctly/remember their actual feelings as time goes on. Yuu is generally a pretty kind but traumatized trope that will also tend to push the OBs around more to help them develop. Idk lmao.

Locating Unit Coordinates...

[An error has occurred. Review crash log?]

Rebooting…

Unit coordinates can no longer be tracked. Unit has disappeared.

****

Unit has sustained large amounts of damage. Reviewing backup cache… Fragments of information have been restored. Note: What is seen here may have been altered by unit mental state or devices that can change or alter memory. The following memories are out of order. Proceed with caution.

****

Magic was once the lifeblood of your world. It pumped life into every corner of the universe, bringing balance to all inside. At least, that is what the elders said. Ever since the disappearance of magic, nothing has been the same. As magic began to die, so did the world, causing cataclysmic events.

The fae was the most affected, and their home became a barren wasteland, and with each new generation of fae having weaker magic and mages becoming rarer, there was no guarantee their species would survive. Without magic to balance the world, it came down to the people. Many argued about who should be in charge and how the world should be poised; some sought to control the world through structure and rules. Others turned to violence and discord.

You were born during this apocalypse, or rapture, as many called it. Though, you never really understood most of it as a kid. Your village and your parents taught you more about how to survive. How to hide. How to hunt. How to barter. How to be crafty and frugal. How to run. How to have no waste. How to sneak around. How to read safety diamonds and warning labels. That was your life. Then an invasion came.

****

Mercenaries of the higher powers came in their high-tech armor, and fancier phones, and scary beasts they rode upon because they could afford to feed them.

“The detectors say there is either a mage or catalyst among you filth.” Catalyst? You and the other village kids hid behind the adults, confused by the big words they spoke. “We do need some magic batteries for the city, so give up whoever it is! Cough them out, and I may just let you live.” The man spat, cruel eyes glaring down at everyone atop his high-griffin that swiveled its head around vigilantly.

Behind your parents' back, you recognized a signal. One said, ‘take the other children and hide. You’re the oldest. We believe in you.’ You used the adults as a shield as you grabbed other children by the hand and led them to the safe zone—a hollowed-out tree with rocks and mud covering the opening.

Digging through the rocks and mud, you removed the barrier to safety and slid inside to prepare the inside for the others, making sure it was safe. All those years of skipping meals to keep the younger ones fed made you thin enough to slide in. Through one of the cracks in the trunk, you saw the griffin push over an adult and screech at the group of children.

The last thing you remember is watching the man grab the sword around his waist and his men grabbing blasters. You remember desperately digging your fingers into the mud and rocks and digging till they bled to make the opening wider. While digging, you heard screaming, running, gunfire, violence, and crying.

You were in that trunk for what felt like hours, and not a single other kid made it in. “Men! Find that mage and spare no mercy!” echoed through your head over and over. Your body shivered from both fear and the cold.

****

Happy memories surge forth to try and protect your fragile mind.

“We never cut our hair in our culture. It contains your knowledge and wisdom. That's what my mama told me, at least.” The girl in front of you leans her head back and smiles as you braid her hair. “Really?”

“Mmm-hmm. You could only cut on a new moon when you need to make a change or when you lose a loved one,” Pocohontas leaned back up and stretched her spine. “Sometimes, when the women in my tribe get really stressed, they would braid their hair super tightly and go outside on a windy day. They then undo their hair and let the wind carry away all of their worries!”

You adored listening to your friend and learning about her culture. She was like a little sister to you. Both of you had to grow up too fast. Her face fell as the conversation dwindled. “I miss my tribe….”

****

The sounds of bloodshed continued and continued for what felt like days. Still, no one else came into the shelter. Did you fail…? The only thing keeping you awake was adrenaline and the cold as you shivered in fear. Left in pitch black darkness, hoping to survive—

****

“Some pancakes for you, Mulan.” “Thank you, Kronk.” “And for you too, Merida.” The redhead didn't wait to dig in, thanking the cook through a mouthful of food. “You too, Rapunzel.” “Ooo! Thank you.” “And finally, here's some for you, kiddo; Go on, take a bite. We did make them together, after all.”

You beamed as you bit into a pancake you and Kronk made together. The man has been your teacher in the kitchen and even taught you how to be a proper scout. He even taught you how to understand the woodland creatures within the forest. You adored the tan man and hoped to get as big and strong as him someday. You hope he's safe…

The other girls were also important to you. Mulan was a master at the sword. She carried six on her person, along with a shield that hung off her armored body. She was so kind and taught you some basic blade and footwork. She often went out on missions to help gather materials for the village. If only she was here right now…

The blonde with the long hair was also the village healer. Her hair and singing healed any wound there was. You often ended up in her care, but it wasn’t bad at all. Together, with her chameleon, Pascal, you both painted together. You would make up silly stories with her and sing silly songs. Maybe she can heal the others.

Merida, the redhead with an accent. She taught you everything stealth. Everything hunting. Under her training, you learned to hit bullseyes easily. You often went out with her to practice your hunting skills, and she’d always congratulate you no matter how small your catch was. She should be back from her hunting trip soon you hope…

****

Peaking out of the tree, you saw tents and buildings in ruins. The few vehicles and other technology your village had were either scalped or broken beyond repair. You squeeze out of your hole, head on a swivel to check for any danger as you try to find an adult.

Sneaking slowly you trudge forth into the broken village. Beneath your feet, you step into something warm and sticky. Looking down you recognize the bodies that hugged each other in death as your parents— you can barely remember their faces any more or the name they gave you— and you fell to your knees, letting out a wail. You didn't care who heard, unaware you were being watched.

****

“A catalyst with such potential… how rare…”

A skeletal figure watched from afar, whispering to himself. Running into a potent catalyst was lucky enough, but now he doesn’t even have to put effort into kidnapping or indoctrinating them. He can step in and ‘save’ that child.

The hooded figure approached the kid, standing behind them as they mourned. “You poor thing, all alone with no one left…” His bony hand rested on their back as his honeyed words soothed them. “There, there. I will take you in, I promise.”

****

You held the rotting, bony hand of the man who saved you. The Horned King. You allowed him to guide you through the castle he constructed with his own magic. He spoke of many deranged things in a manic tone. Politics. Power. Desires. Ideals.

Then he stopped in front of the balcony, admiring the red sunset in a grey, smog-filled sky. “The world we are in is dying. But… It can be saved.” Your eyes went wide. “It can?”

The king nodded. “I have been using what magic I have to give my men power to rebuild The Black Cauldron, a magical item that will save us. I have sent my men across dimensions and planets in mechanical space boats to seek a catalyst powerful enough to bring the cauldron. With it, I can rule over the land and bring back the magic this world has forgotten.”

“Catalyst?” You remembered the men at your village, what did that word mean? The horned king’s sunken eyes looked down at you. “A catalyst, unlike a mage, is something that can absorb magic, and redirect it. Like a magestone.” The king paced in front of you. “Catalysts, not to mention powerful ones, are rare. They can handle storing high amounts of magic to be used at a later time.”

The king turned to you. “This is where you come in, little one. I have found seven magic fragments that I cannot use. You, however, just might…” The hooded figure of rotting flesh knelt in front of you. “With your power, we can bring back magic and save the world. What do you say, little one?”

****

Spread on a vivisection table you lay, barely covered up by a hospital gown of sorts. Your chest and stomach hurt, your body was weak, and you can feel the thin, paper gown brush against the sensitive scar tissue on your body hurts. It hurts so bad. You feel your heartbeat in your ears being accompanied by a faint ringing and pulsing. What did they do to you?

A muffled groan echoes in your head, followed by the sounds of cracking and popping. ‘Oh it feels good to be back…’ a gravely voice echoes in the back of your head, reverberating in your thoughts. You can hear additional whispers and laughter in the back of your mind. Please shut up. Please. You can’t take any more noises or voices in your head. You just want some time to yourself. ‘Woah easy there kid, no need to worry…’ The voice purrs, ‘Just give me control, and you’ll be fine…’

You didn’t even know what that meant until you felt your body go slack, twitching by itself as if there was a puppeteer over you. You panicked, trying your best to fight back against the feeling of your eyes drying out from glowing or the weird blue flicker of your hair. You couldn't do much, strapped down to the vivisection table, but damn it if you didn’t try.

Odd power surged through you as you felt your body flicker before going back to normal. ‘What the hell?! Why can’t I take control?! What's goin on? Actually better yet, why am I in you, kid?’ You were too tired to answer, and the energy that flowed through your body early drained you of what little energy you had left, making you pass out. The entire time you swear you can hear a conversation within you. Your body hurts, but you remember what your savior said. “I am sorry for the pain you must endure, but know that it is necessary, and that you are strong enough,”

****

Log 3: Side-Effects

Unit Y-0U has been successfully fused with the 7 mage fragments uncovered from [REDACTED]. The child is now in recovery mode from what appeared to be an extremely painful surgery, I sadly wasn’t present at the time, however, I heard it was done without painkillers. Master said that it was to make sure the weapon becomes resilient by increasing tolerance to pain. Surgery to eliminate pain receptors: Pending.

The Cauldron Mage Unit has remarked about hearing more voices in their head than usual. These voices are apparently very rude and confused. The (Child) Unit seems disturbed. When put on anti-psychotics the new voices did not go away. This must be a simple side-effect of the casting process. I will continue to keep an eye on them

-Yzma Researcher #121000

Log: End

Personal Diary: New Entry

This child has lost all light in their eyes. As time goes on they have become more ill-mannered and rude. I do not blame them. No child deserves any of this torture. I just wonder what The Horned King is thinking, making this kid into some strange ‘cauldron born’ soldier to bring back all of magic. Fucking hell. I regret what I did. I regret working with them. Am I truly doing the right thing? Torturing a child? Ripping the wings off fae and draining them of what little magic they have left? Will this really bring back magic to our world after it disappeared? I have a lot to think about. I’m going to be sick.

If this continues I doubt this weapon would even work with us. I am going to try and sneak it some bread tomorrow, Cedric’s approval be damned. I can disguise it as maintaining the weapon and its cast. I can’t imagine what it is like to wake up in a new body. Poor kid, it doesn’t even have a proper name.

#121000

****

The next few days were odd. You started to hear more voices… But this… This will go away. It will be worth it if you can help your savior save the world! Right…?

****

‘I see… So… I am now stuck inside you, a kid no less…’ You can see a ghost of a hand drag across the specter's face in your mind. ‘Great… Wonderful. How am I supposed to take over Olympus like this?! Did I die? Is this the afterlife for gods?’ The voice snarled in your head, making you flinch, you can feel his rage wash over you, heating the inside of your body.

‘Silence. You are giving me a migraine. I cannot believe that someone like me is trapped inside this… unsightly vessel. I swear no vessel of mine will be looking like a slob.‘ A cruel voice cuts in. Her words harsh, but true.

‘And now I have roommates. Also, what do you mean by your vessel? I woke up first! This thing is mine, get your own!’ ‘Yeah, you tell them boss!’ you hear a few voices mutter. Your chest felt cold as the cruel voice from before became silent. Her rage, icy and cold. ‘Enough, I am not talking to an ill-mannered slob such as yourself. Unlike you, I am actually trying to find a solution.‘

An argument was brewing in your mind, and you can tell a headache was coming on.

****

‘Revived? Inside a child? Tch, it's better than that lamp I suppose.’ the voice sneered.

‘Ah Jafar, what an unpleasant surprise, you’re here as well. Hmph. So you were revived as well. What a shame…’ another voice who called herself Maleficent hissed.

‘Please don’t fight you two. I don't know what happened. I was just told I was going to be fused and woke up like this.’ It was quiet for a minute before a sigh echoed through your head. A new voice came. This one is older, but smooth and soothing despite the words she spits, but before you can hear anything you let drowsiness overtake you as the conversation gets quieter.

****

Your training got harder by the day. Magic theory. Potion craft. Alchemy. Tactics. Sword Fighting. Hand-to-Hand. Dodging. Weight Training. carrying weights for days on end without sleep. Pushing, pushing, pushing.

You were a weapon, a beacon of hope, and you must be strong. You were subjected to experiment after experiment. Regimen after regimen. “Allow them no breaks! We have no time to waste!” The Horned King speaks.

It was the last thing you remember before being attached to a machine. A machine that plugged into the flesh of your neck and kept you active. It would both rest and still train you. Not even in dreams do you escape your work. Your stomach hurts. They forgot to feed you again. Your head hurts from the strange voices in your head that have yet to clear up. Every word they speak is strangled and garbled on some days, yet completely clear the next. As you drift off, you hear a conversation

‘The gall of those mages to hit my vessel. Next time, you are to strike back- no wait. We are going to concoct a poison so potent, that two sorry excuses of mages won't see it coming. they do not know the first thing when it comes to magic anyways!’

‘They speak as if magic is foreign to them and teach poor, pathetic, elementary spells.‘ The new woman's voice muttered. ‘I think if we all long for freedom, we should teach this child how to use our magic, for a price of course…’

****

Personal Log:

I saw the child destroy the only object it had in its room the other day— a mirror. It couldn’t stand looking at itself in its new body. I don't blame it, this new one isn’t designed with any warmth in mind. Just a simple cast to help one achieve being the perfect weapon. I have heard the child scream to shut up multiple times while grasping its head in pain. The voices haven't stopped.

At least it is showing promise of power, recently it has been wielding high-power magic and is now taking on even higher-level training exercises. The weight it can now lift is incredible! Truly a worthy vessel under our king who will turn things back to the way they were before!

I heard they are sending the child out to the wastelands to retrieve more relics. That's good and all but how are we sure they won’t run away? Their handlers refuse to treat them with an ounce of respect, and we barely feed it for the sake of ‘strengthening it just in case the weapon goes too long without food. This feels strange. How long before it gets wiser?

I guess it doesn't matter since I can simply implant better memories in them or remove those fragments temporarily and render them unable to use magic. I'm sure the King wouldn't mind me doing a biiiit of brainwashing.

Anyways, new ships capable of gliding across water and into space have been constructed. Our empire will now grow even stronger. The child will now be sent on missions across dimensions and into space. Now they can truly train for phase 2 of the king's plan. To rule the world with our Cauldron Born army. And with such a happy and kind child showing off their magic and helping villages, no one would dare to oppose us, but rather, welcome us with open arms.

- Cedrick

****

‘You must rest now, otherwise evil and vengeance will never prosper’ The dragon fae soothes you with her words as you rest in a medical tent, the last mission exposed you to some poisonous spores, giving you a fever. A warm washcloth rests on your forehead and you can feel the ghost of her fingers brush against your cheek. ‘I'm not used to just sitting around so idly…’ ‘You should really learn how, it would benefit you’ Scar interjects. You can see the specter of him stretching before lounging on top of you. Oddly enough, you could feel the weight of him on you, along with the strange heat that comes off of him. You can even hear the three hyenas rummaging around beside you.

It's so strange feeling so loved… You remember just a year ago how hostile they were to you. This insolent subject! How dare you refuse a command from me?! You remember the Red Queen yelled at you. You are to obey or it is off with your head! Now you are her ‘Little Crown’ or heir as she sometimes calls you. It’s crazy just how fast things change

****

You came to realize that with the seven in your head, you were being used. No hero would abuse their subjects like the Horned king did. He lacked transparency. He let those scientists hurt you. ‘We should burn him’ Hades replies in your head.

‘Absolutely not. That King’s followers are quite devoted. Furthermore, we are not in a position to fight back.’ Jafar notes. Scar grumbles in agreement, ‘No place to escape to, surrounded by insanely devoted minions… The effort it would take to win…’ ‘Would not be ideal…’ Ursula purrs. ‘Even with our magic combined, the poor guppy here isn’t in the ideal condition to fight.’

You roll in your bedroll within your ‘room’. An observation room in the lab with a one-way mirror taking over an entire wall. Windowless, no decoration or light. The silence and plainness of it all is maddening,

‘Isn’t strange to not take care of your weapons?’ Grimhilde notes. ‘Surely, if your plan relies on one person, you would take care of them…” Her voice became sour at the end, disgusted at the treatment you have endured.

‘Which means, he may know about our loyalty wavering, or he knows that we may rebel…’ Maleficent notes. ‘Well, maybe he wouldn't have to worry about that if he were to have actually treated our precious crown right’! The Queen of Hearts sasses, you can hear the low clicking of the eel twins and the Jabberwock agreeing with the queen.

‘Stay on your toes, young one. Be careful. And look for an opening to escape.’ Jafar whispers to you, and you feel the ghost of his hand cup your cheek.

****

“The village people have constructed a statue of us in the town square.” The king hums. “Really?! I mean— I’ve hardly done anything…” The king looks down at you, rotting, sunken eyes analyzing you. “You have grown so much stronger than when we first met, I knew it was a good idea to take you in on that day.”

‘Tch. What a pathetic attempt at lying. Also do not doubt yourself so much, little dragon.’ Maleficent responds. ‘All those years of dealing with this asshole probably did something to their self-worth, if only someone suggested we kill him sooner!’ You close your eyes in agreement with them. Lies. He never cared. You were just another test run that ended up making it the farthest.

‘Language, Hades. That foolish plan wouldn’t have done well, as for you Vessel. Do not talk down to yourself. I am not letting someone that represents me do such a thing!’ You smile a bit at her words, able to read between the lines to understand that what she really means to say is ‘I care about you so much’. Hades huffs. ‘Whatever Hidey… Now let's focus on what this Underworld escapee has to say.’

Oh right, there's a statue of you in your honor and a few propagandic stories of your tales to make you feel like you’re doing the right thing. All this work just to make sure you don’t fight back. As much as The Horned King hated to admit it, you were stronger than him, and that's terrifying. No one has ever survived this long as a Cauldron Born Unit. At least, when he is done using you, you will be sacrificed to the cauldron, making him the most powerful one of all, and he would no longer have to worry about pleasing you.

Or so he hopes. You see through him. But you will continue to play dumb and take the abuse. But… a very small part of you believes it all. You deserve to be hit. You are doing the right thing. Maybe He was right. Maybe, you truly are worthless...

****

In your room that night, you curled up in your bedroll, hiding the data crystal you swiped from the lab earlier. You were gonna get down to the bottom of whatever the hell these people were doing.

Tapping it, a small screen popped up from it. The beginning of the report was titled “Magic Extractor”. By the description, this was related to fueling both the cauldron and The Horned King himself…

Opening it you began to read, and with each line, you began to feel sick. Your stomach sunk and your heartstrings felt like they were played by a knife as you continued. You knew that the people you served were bad… You never knew it was like this.

All those fae, all those mages, those children…

Something snapped in you that day, and the seven found themselves supporting you. You are done. You are escaping. You will bring hell to all of those to hurt you.

****

“My King! Unit Y-0U has run off and escaped.”

“What?!” The Horned King yelled. “Where are they?!"

“They ran out of the lab without permission and were last seen going to the Magic Extractor.”

The Horned King fumed and immediately teleported off to you. Maybe this was a rebellious phase he needed to hammer out. You were still a kid after all. Maybe he can convince you that what you would see is what had to be done. Maybe he could just simply erase every memory you have.

As he teleported and appeared at the sight, he looked upon the ruins of what remained of the extractor. It was destroyed. Mages, mers, beasts, and fae all escaping out of the prison he built. Many were fighting the workers. The king felt rage bubble in his bones as he searched around for— you. A child amidst it all.

In the middle of it all, fighting with those who want to fight, instructing the others on where to go. Summoning waves to carry the mer away. “YOU! CHILD. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” The king roared, catching your attention.

You gripped your polearm in your hand and turned towards him. “The future you want is one I despise. I never wanted any of this!”

“Do you really think you can defeat me?! I created you!”

“And I am stronger than you.” Fae and beast stood aside as you raised your polearm. From this day on, you bow to no king. From this day on, you declare war on your creator….

….

...

You swear you hear Hades, Pain, and Panic all yell “Viva la revolution” while cheering you on…

#fic idea #idk what to tag this #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #unit yuu #the great 7 parents #twst #twst wonderland #disney twst #disney #i also pisted this on ao3 #yuu #twisted wonderland yuu

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